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#i trust i don't *want* to be crying right now i'm *sorry* okay i just don't know what to do i got given the wrong forms and papers and i
hopleii · 11 hours
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should've said no,
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content: dazai x fem!reader, toxic relationship, lovebombing, gaslighting, manipulating, cheating, fighting, swearing, angst no comfort, kinda ooc but kinda not, semi-proofread, trashy writing
a/n: had a mental breakdown abt my ex so i was like 'our whole relationship would be a good story' so yeah!
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you knew, you always knew that dazai had a way with women. he was handsome and charming, he could easily get any girl he wanted with just a few words, and that's how he got you.
a year ago, you went to a formal event with your friends. you were third-wheeling with them and their boyfriends, as expected. taking small sips out of your glass, enjoying the tart and sweet taste of wine, you sat there unaware that you had caught someone's eye.
"what's a pretty girl like you sitting alone here?" a feathery voice from behind you snapped you out of your thoughts, you turned back to see a brunette man with a handsome face, no, handsome was an understatement. he was gorgeous.
"my, my...you are indeed pretty," he says in a gentle voice as if you'd float away if he wasn't careful. you got a bit shy and looked away, averting your gaze to cover up the flustered look on your face. "hey...look at me." the man whined,
those were the exact same words he said that pulled you back to reality, stopping your sweet moment of reminiscing on the first time you both met, at a party, where you both danced the night away.
and now you barely even hold each other anymore, "y/n...look at me!" he yells as he grabs your chin to face him, "listen to me! god, what is going on with you?" he yells again.
oh...right. the two of you were in the middle of an argument, it all started off with a backhanded comment, now both of you are fighting in the middle of the night. "what's going on with me? what's going on with you!?" you yell back, "you've been staying out late and you don't even tell me why! don't you know how worried i get?"
"how many times do we need to talk about this...I'm out working okay!? I just got home and you're already yelling at me...give me a break, I've had a long day..." he groans as he adjusts the collar of his blouse, a habit he does when things get too heated. but as he adjusts his collar, something caught your eye, something red.
"what is that?" you asked, dazai's face went pale when he hears your question because he knew exactly what you were talking about, "what's what?" he replied, his tone becoming calmer and quieter to avoid suspicions
"that." you said as you walked over to him and pulled down his collar, lipstick marks.
you let go of his collar as you let out a quivering gasp, tears forming in your eyes. "b-baby...it's not what it looks like, okay!?" dazai gently grabs your shoulders before pulling you into a hug, trying to comfort you and stop you from crying, but instead, it only fueled your anger even more because you got to smell the cheap, floral perfume on him.
"it was for a case at the agency okay? i...i had to get information from someone a-and.." he paused, losing the words he was about to say when he saw your face stained with tears as you looked at him with disgust and betrayal. "baby...just trust me, okay? it was for a mission...nothing more, okay? you're the only one i love." he says as he tightened the hug, making soothing motions on your back to try and comfort you, to earn your trust again.
"believe me..please? I'm sorry I didn't tell you...forgive me please? forgive me if you love me, baby...you trust me, right? because you love me?" dazai shaked your shoulders gently, looking at you with pleading eyes, urging you to believe him.
but you were always an understanding girl, weren't you? you always gave people second chances. and that might've been the worst mistake you made.
"y/n..say something!" he shakes you again, "I..I believe you." you say with hesitation, to be honest, you didn't. but he loved you, right? just like he said in that party a year ago...he loved you.
"r-really? I'm glad...you're not mad at me, right? you don't hate me?" he sighed, relief washing over him. his words made him seem so genuine, his face looked so innocent but there was still a part of you that didn't believe him at all. "fuck...you hate me, don't you?"
you get nervous at his words, your heart ached as he said that, "n-no! no, I believe you...I promise. nothing you do could ever make me hate you.."
dazai smiled softly and kissed you on the forehead, his mood shifting as if none of this happened.
months went by after this incident, he still came home late, some nights he didn't even come home. everytime you tried to talk to him about it, he'd get defensive and start yelling at you, calling you stupid to think that he was anywhere else but work, defending himself when all you did was ask him "where have you been?"
your friends warned you, your parents told you, your colleagues tried to talk to you but dazai had messed up your head so much that you were blinded by a false sense of love,
"so you'd rather listen to your friends than your own boyfriend!? why won't you trust me? y/n...come on, trust me!"
dazai's words echoed in your mind, you wanted to believe him. you wanted to trust that the man you loved wouldn't betray you, that there was a valid reason. his late nights turned into weekends away, excuses grew flimsier, and the distance between you widened with each passing day. yet, every time you tried to confront him, he would turn the tables, making you feel guilty for doubting him, for questioning his loyalty.
your friends' warnings fell on deaf ears, drowned out by dazai's promises of love and devotion. you clung to the hope that things would get better, that the man you fell for would return to you.
as the months passed, the weight of your doubts grew heavier, suffocating you with each passing day. you tried to bury them beneath layers of false assurances and forced smiles, but they refused to stay hidden for long.
the click of the door jolted you from your thoughts, but the sight of dazai didn't bring the relief you craved. his expression was unreadable, his eyes avoiding yours as he shuffled into the room.
"hey, i'm home," he mumbled, his voice barely audible above the silence that hung between you.
you opened your mouth to speak, to confront him, but the words caught in your throat. instead, you watched in silence as he moved past you, his presence heavy with unspoken truths.
"we need to talk," you finally managed to whisper, your voice trembling with emotion.
dazai's gaze flickered with guilt, and he nodded wordlessly, the weight of your words settling on his shoulders. you took a shaky breath, preparing yourself for the conversation that would shatter everything you thought you knew.
"hmm? okay..." he hummed as he sat down in front of you, "what did you wanna talk about, pretty? oh, before that, i got you a gift! do you like it?" he says as he presented you a big box of chocolates that would probably take you weeks to finish. he was always like this, wasn't he? showering you with love and gifts, burying you with compliments every time he knows you're about to slip away to make sure you shut up and forget about the messed up things he did.
"it's not about the chocolates, dazai," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.
he frowned, confusion flickering across his features before he plastered on a charming smile. "of course, my love. what's on your mind? you know you can tell me anything," he said, his voice oozing with faux sincerity.
you took a deep breath, gathering the courage to lay bare the truth. "i know about the other women, dazai," you said, your voice trembling with suppressed emotion. "i know about the lies, where you've been going all these nights. i can't do this anymore."
for a moment, there was silence, the weight of your words hanging heavy in the air. and then, with a scoff, he leaned back in his chair, his smile slipping into a sneer.
"oh, is that what this is about?" he said, his tone dripping with condescension. "you really think you can just walk away from me? after everything I've done for you?"
"i deserve better than this, dazai," you whispered, your voice barely audible above the roaring storm of emotions inside you.
but he just laughed, a cold, mocking sound that sent shivers down your spine. "deserve better? you think anyone else would put up with you?" he spat, his eyes ablaze with contempt. "you're lucky to have me, y/n."
with a heavy heart, you rose from your seat, the weight of his words like chains around your ankles. you wanted to scream, to lash out at him for the pain he had inflicted, but you knew it would only fuel his cruel satisfaction.
instead, you turned away, your resolve hardening with each step you took toward the door. his laughter followed you, a haunting echo reverberated in the empty space between you.
"you'll be back," he called after you, his voice laced with venom. "you always come back."
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© — hopleii
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yuribalisms · 2 years
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promise this is my last time bitching about all of this ignore it but
#really truly and genuinely just don't want to exist right now every time i think this situation cannot get worse it somehow manages to#i just cried at the dmv and the lady just glared at me like i was the scum of the earth like maam i don't even cry around people#i trust i don't *want* to be crying right now i'm *sorry* okay i just don't know what to do i got given the wrong forms and papers and i#tried explaining all of that and she just looked at me like i was an *idiot* and wouldn't help me with *anything* it was so humiliating#i can't drive the temporary car until it has plates because if i get pulled over for that it's a $500 fine and if i get hit with that on top#of everything else i literally don't know what i'll do i'll probably end up losing my license#but if i can't drive the car i can't go to work and i also can't afford to not go to work right now#i literally feel sick all the time i can't sleep the last few times i've tried to eat anything i feel like throwing it up#and i just feel... so hopeless right now everything i'm trying isn't working or i think i'm getting somewhere and i hit another wall#and one of the most upsetting parts is i feel like no one is helping me and no one cares how hard i'm struggling right now#i literally just want to be allowed to be upset over this but when i got visibly upset at home everyone accused me of taking my frustrations#out on them and being self pitying and 'it could always be worse'#like i don't even know at this point but if i hear the words 'could always be worse' one more time i'm going to maul the person who says the#no one wants me to be upset that's too much to deal with i am *never* allowed to be upset i just want to vent about how shitty this is and#scream and cry at the unfairness of it for a little bit but literally *no one* is letting me do that#'it could always be worse so stop complaining' or if i am visibly upset at all all that matters is it's inconveniencing or upsetting to the#other person.... not that i'm struggling or need help or anything like that#i just want it to be OVER i want it to end i'm so sick of this every time i feel like i'm scraping to somewhere managable in life#something like this happens and this is the scariest and most upsetting thing yet#and i'm not even allowed to be frustrated or upset or sad or angry because then someone else is upset and that matters more than me#so it all built up and a cried at the dmv and every one stared at me like i was annoying and stupid and i want to KILL MYSELF#i want to melt into the ground i want to stop existing i don't want a single person to talk to me because i hate everything right now#but i also desperately want to actually say all of this to a person and them not get mad at me for and tell me it IS unfair it DOES suck and#i didn't deserve this shitty thing that happened or all the other shitty things that happened beforehand#i would also appreciate just pretending it wasn't a thing for a few hours and doing something enjoyable to me with a friend or two...#but that also feels far fetched and then i would feel guilty for not trying to fix this 24/7 even though at this point there's literally#nothing else i could do#i'm just.... so tired and so SO upset and i feel like nobody cares that i'm upset and i'm so sick of EVERYTHING#i'm tired of living
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peachesofteal · 4 months
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Light On - single mom/neighbor fic - reader POV - cw: grief Simon Riley/female reader
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"Breathe, honey. Try to take a deep breath for me."
Simon is frantic, cradling your face in his hands, pulling away your own to try to look in your eyes, his own wide with horror, worry.
This isn't fair. This isn't right. This is confusing.
"I- I'm sorry." You sob, because it's the only thing you can say, the only thing he can think of, and he shakes his head like he disagrees with you.
"No, no. Sorry for what?" You can't make it make sense, to him, in your own head, and when you try to talk, nothing comes out but a broken cry. "Shhh. You're alright. Just breathe." He tries to soothe you, and it only makes you cry harder, sob welling in your chest. "Are you hurt?"
"No!" you protest. "No, you didn't... I'm not... I-"
"Okay, okay. Hey, look at me sweetheart. I'm right here, I've got you." He coos, still holding you, wiping your tears, keeping you close. "You're okay." You bury your face in his chest, letting him wrap you up, cuddle you close, all while your mind spins and spirals, heart aching like it's been broken all over again. This wasn't supposed to happen. You're not supposed to feel this way. You're supposed to be happy. Aren't you happy?
"I'm sorry." You whisper when you find your voice, and he hums a raspy rebuttal. "No, I... you don't deserve this, to be saddled with this, a-" A widow, and a baby. An emotional basket case. A burden.
"Stop." He looks down at you with sincerity, severe certainty in his eyes, and you gulp at the intensity, shuddering when his lips graze your skin gently. "I don't deserve you, sweetheart. I know that for sure, but not in the way you're thinking right now. I'm not being saddled with anything."
"You don't understand." You shake your head.
"Then tell me." He encourages. "Tell me. I'll listen." He caresses your cheek, touch gentle and caring, devoted, and you close your eyes.
"Okay."
Simon makes you a cup of tea. When he returns to press it into your hands, you're sitting up in bed, donning one of the t shirts you found on the floor.
"Is that my shirt?" He asks, cocking his head, and you nod bashfully, lip tucked between your teeth. "Looks good on you." You reach for the mug with shaking hands, trying to take a deep breath and collect your thoughts. "Take your time." He murmurs. "I'm here. We've got all night." He's not going to want you anymore, once he realizes. Once you tell him how you feel, what you're thinking. You shake the thoughts free, trying to banish them. He said you could tell him. You trust him. You can do this. Just be honest.
"Emmaline's dad died the week we found out we were pregnant." You whisper, unable to look at him. "It was a housing fire, big building. Like this one." You take a sip, watching the way his fingers sit lax in the bed, close enough to touch you, but giving you space. "There was a power surge, or something. Half the city lost electricity and he got called in. It wasn't unusual, he was a Lieutenant, and they're responsible for a crew, a truck. I thought... I thought I'd just go to bed, wake up in the morning, and he'd be there next to me. Like always, on big calls."
"But he wasn't."
"He wasn't. Instead, his Engineer, and his Captain, were at my door with his helmet in their hands." You bite down on your tongue, fruitlessly stalling the tears and the breakdown that's fighting it's way up your throat. "I loved him so much." As soon as you say it, your voice breaks, vision going blurry, and Simon reaches for you, holding your free hand, stroking a thumb across your knuckles. "I haven't been... I haven't been with anyone, since then."
"Oh, sweetheart." You set the tea down on the table next to the bed, pulling air in through your nose as much as you can, trying to regulate your heart rate, your breathing.
"I thought I knew what love was." You whisper, peeking up at him, soft brown eyes watching you patiently. "But this... feels different. It feels like... more. And that... that makes me feel like I'm betraying him. Like I'm dishonoring the love we shared. I feel guilty, and awful, like I'm doing something wrong." You close your eyes, losing your control, your battle, lower lip trembling with a sob. It tumbles out of you, hoarse and raw, everything falling away as you cry. There's a knife, in your chest, in your heart, twisting and sawing and stabbing, and it hurts, it hurts so badly, the sharp ache only soothed when Simon pulls you into his arms, cradling you against his chest, hand smoothing up and down your spine.
"Sh-shhh." He's settled you into his lap completely now, legs and hips and entire body, wrapped up tight, safe and secure. A small amount of tension sags away from your frame, relieved that he's not running, white hot guilt and grief and still burning in the pit of your stomach. "You're not doing anything, anything, wrong, sweetheart." He thumbs at a tear on your cheek. "It's natural to feel grief like this, it's normal. But you're not betraying him, or your marriage. He'll always be a part of you, and Emmaline." He's rocking you, murmuring softly above your ear, and you relax more, letting him calm you, put you back together piece by piece, your tears starting to slow, your chest rising and falling at a more regular pace. "I want to tell you something." He says after a while, once it's been quiet for a few minutes. You nod, trying to encourage him. "My mum is gone." You push off from him, looking up into his eyes. They're sad, and you see grief in them, despair, but also a deep depth of love. "She taught me how to cook, when I was a young lad. Always told me it would come in handy, when I fell in love." He takes a deep breath, burying his face in your neck for a second before coming back up for air. "She never got to see that, me with someone else. In love. And for years, I thought I disappointed her, let her down, even in death."
"Simon." You whisper, heart breaking apart all over again for the pain that's embedded across his face, the torment that bleeds from his expression.
"But, ever since I met you- I've thought, maybe she's lookin' out for me. That she's somewhere, out there, still bein' my mum. Sending me angels." He blinks, lashes wet, the tear that drips down your face mirroring his own. "Sending you, and Emma. And maybe your husband, is doing the same." You close your eyes, remembering the first time you ever saw Simon, on the roof, handsome in the morning light, even though he seemed so exhausted. You remember the way he held Emmaline, the first time he gave her a bottle, your little baby so at home in his giant arms, safe and cuddled against his chest like she just fit there. When he came to your rescue in the park, scary enough to make every scatter but all you felt was safety. The first time he kissed you, on his patio in the snow. And tonight, when he promised to give you everything, when he held you, made love to you, promised to take care of you. Your heart races in your chest, fingers clutching onto him, holding as tight as you can.
"Am I your angel, Simon Riley?" You wondered aloud with wide eyes, leaning into him, nose to nose. He kisses you, face wet with tears, voice hoarse when he answers.
"You're mine, as I'm yours, sweetheart."
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maxtermind · 15 days
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absolutely loved ‘baby, would i still be your lover’, everyone single one got me in my feels! i was wondering would you consider doing a part 2? whether it ends in angst or fluff
I'll tell you the truth, but never goodbye
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★ : summary :: when he accidentally insults you during an argument- aftermath ★ : feat :: max verstappen, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris ★ : genre :: hurt/comfort, hints of angst ★ : word count :: 4.3k ★ : a/n :: thank you so much for the love on part 1 💓 some of these have open ending so you can pick whether you'd like to forgive them or not as a reader!! feedback is appreciated :)
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( part 1 )
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Max Verstappen
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You sighed as you sat down to have your morning tea as usual, trying to pretend that nothing was wrong. As if you hadn't spent all night long getting your phone spammed with calls that you were ignoring.
After mindlessly roaming around for a bit, you eventually decided to crash at your best friend’s place. You lazily waved at her as she frantically got ready to leave for work. However, you were on your tiptoe as soon as the door opened.
A body that was possibly sleeping while leaning against the door fell inside and you heard curses that you were quite too familiar with. Your heart clenched at the sight of your boyfriend - or perhaps now, your ex-boyfriend - on his knees, nursing the wound on his head. The ache of seeing him in pain reignited the anguish you thought you had left behind.
“Okay,” you heard your friend murmur. “I'm gonna let you guys get to it.” She was out the door a second later.
You looked at the closed door instead of the man who was desperately trying to make eye contact with you.
“How long have you…” You trailed off before deciding that you didn't want to know.
“As soon as you turned your phone off, Y/N! I've been here since last night.” "Why?" you choked out, the words barely escaping your lips as tears threatened to overflow. His brows furrowed before he ran his hands over his face and got up to sit right next to you. You saw his hand itching toward yours and instinctively pulled it towards your body. "Because I needed to see you in person, to talk." He took another deep breath and you later realized that he was trying to stop himself from crying. “I realize I messed up, baby. I.. I never should have let you walk out.” But his attempt to mend the shattered pieces of your relationship only served to reopen the wounds, your walls instinctively rising in defense,"Talk? You think a talk is going to fix everything?" Max's eyes were filled with a mix of regret and desperation as he reached out for your hand, his fingers trembling slightly. "No, I don't think a talk will magically fix everything," he admitted, his voice raw with emotion.
"But it's a start. I need you to know that I'm truly sorry for what happened. I hate myself for hurting you, for making you doubt how much you mean to me."
You couldn't bring yourself to meet his gaze, the pain of the previous night still too fresh in your mind.
“How can I trust you again, Max? How can I be sure that this won't happen again?" Your voice was barely a whisper, filled with the ache of betrayal.
Max's grip on your hand tightened, his eyes pleading for understanding. "I know I've messed up, Y/N. But I'm willing to do whatever it takes to earn back your trust. I'll work on my temper, I’ll be better to you, I'll do anything you ask of me. I just need you to give me another chance." “You know you’ve always been the best to me, right? I just can’t believe that instead of talking it out yesterday, you straight up skipped to breaking up wit-” Fresh tears started falling down your cheeks. Max immediately leaned forward to hold you in his arms and you let him because you needed him. But how could you trust him again? How could you be sure that history wouldn't repeat itself? That he won’t throw away your whole relationship just because the anger got a hold of him? As Max held you close, you felt a wave of conflicting emotions wash over you. Part of you wanted to push him away, to scream and shout at him for causing you so much pain. But another part of you craved his warmth, his touch, his presence.
"I'm sorry, Y/N," Max whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I know I messed up, and I hate myself for it. I never meant to hurt you, I swear."
You buried your face in his chest, the tears soaking through his shirt as you struggled to make sense of your feelings.
“I just don't know if I can do this anymore, Max," you admitted, your voice muffled against him. Max tightened his embrace, his arms wrapping around you protectively. "I understand," he murmured, his voice gentle. His admission eased your thumping heart a bit, you were glad to have him back. The storm within you finding a momentary calm.
"I made you feel like our relationship was disposable, like breaking up was no big deal. But that couldn't be further from the truth. You're the most important person in my life, baby and the thought of losing you terrifies me. I'll do whatever it takes to make things right between us, to show you just how much you mean to me. I'll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust if you still want me."
Lewis Hamilton
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The weight of Lewis's words hung heavy in the air, suffocating you as you retreated into the sanctuary of your bedroom. Tears streamed down your cheeks unchecked, your heart aching with a pain you couldn't quite comprehend. How had a day that started with such a promise turned into this? You buried your face in your hands, the sting of Lewis's words feeling like acid running through your veins.
Outside the door, the silence was deafening, broken only by the muffled sound of your sobs. Lewis stood frozen in place, his mind racing as he replayed the exchange in his head.
He couldn't believe the words that had escaped his lips, couldn't fathom how he had allowed his frustration to morph into such hurtful remarks.
Minutes stretched into eternity as Lewis grappled with the weight of his actions, the gravity of his words settling like a lead weight in his chest.
He wanted to reach out to you, to apologize and make things right, but his feet remained rooted to the spot, paralyzed by the magnitude of his mistake.
Inside the bedroom, you were consumed by a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Anger, hurt, betrayal - they all swirled together into an ugly monster, threatening to engulf you whole.
How could the man you loved, the man who had always been your rock, turn on you with such venom?
But beneath the anger and hurt, there was a flicker of doubt, a gnawing fear that maybe Lewis's words held a grain of truth. Maybe you were too insecure, too needy, too demanding. Maybe you were asking for too much, expecting him to be there for you when he had his own priorities and responsibilities. Maybe-
The sound of a soft knock on the door snapped you out of your thoughts, and you looked up to see Lewis standing there, his expression wrought with regret and guilt. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of the unspoken apology hanging heavy in the air. Looking at him distraught made your chest feel worse. How could he make you feel ten fold worse than this and not feel a thing? 
"I'm sorry," Lewis finally whispered, his voice barely audible. "I didn't mean what I said. I was out of line, and I know I hurt you. Please, let me make it right." He rushed through the words.
His words pierced through the haze of your pain, and you felt a bit of heaviness leaving your body. He crossed the room in a few strides, dropping to his knees in front of you, his eyes pleading for forgiveness. 
"I don't know what came over me," he admitted, his voice thick with emotion before your boyfriend took your hand away from your face and kissed your cheeks. "I was so caught up in my own frustrations that I lashed out at you, and I hate myself for it. You don't deserve to be treated that way, especially not by me."
You studied his face, searching for any sign of insincerity, but all you saw was genuine remorse and regret. And despite the pain still raw in your chest, you couldn't deny the love you felt for him, the longing to mend what had been broken between you. “You hurt me,” you whispered but didn’t push him away as he laid down with you, holding you close to his chest. Some of your resolve wavering when you felt his fast heartbeat. “I wanted you there so much.” He nodded as he shushed you, his own eyes dropping tears. “I’m so so sorry, baby. I can't even begin to express how deeply I regret the way I acted the whole day, I know you deserve so much more but-” You shifted slightly, knowing all that you wanted right now was comfort, you didn't want to forgive him or minimize the weight of his actions. "I don't know if I can right now," you replied, your voice trembling with the weight of your emotions.
Lewis's eyes brimmed with tears as he whispered, "Please don't shut me out. I can't bear the thought of losing you."
You felt a pang of guilt at the pain evident in his voice. "I just need some time to process everything," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.
"I understand," Lewis replied, his tone filled with sorrow. "But please know that I'm here whenever you're ready to talk."
You nodded, silently acknowledging his words as you allowed yourself to be enveloped in his comforting embrace. 
"I promise to make it up to you," Lewis vowed earnestly, his voice laced with determination. "I'll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust."
"I want to believe you," you admitted quietly, your heart heavy with uncertainty. Everything was a little too raw right now and your emotions were all over the place.
"I'll spend every moment proving it to you," Lewis declared, his eyes locking with yours in a silent vow.
“I was thoughtless and cruel today, and I never should have let those words leave my lips. You are not insecure, you are strong and resilient, baby. You deserve so much better than the hurtful words I spoke. Please know that I can’t lose you, Y/N. I will work tirelessly to regain your trust and rebuild what I have so carelessly shattered. You mean the world to me, and I will spend every moment striving to be worthy of your love.”
Carlos Sainz
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As you sat nervously in your childhood home, the familiar sights and sounds providing little comfort, your mind raced with thoughts of disappointment and hurt.
For the third time, Carlos had failed to join you in meeting your parents, leaving you to face their questioning looks and unspoken concerns alone. You had rehearsed what you would say to them, how you would explain his absence, but each time, the words caught in your throat, choked by a mixture of frustration and sadness. For the past few days since you walked out of your apartment, you had been ignoring Carlos’ attempts to reconcile with you. The calls and texts he spammed you with were ignored and curses left your mouth as soon as your mind went back to the day of the argument, bringing unwanted tears to your eyes.
In the passing, you saw a Ferrari conference being conducted and as much as you wanted to reach out and talk it out with him, your heart did flips that you were sure you should have visited a doctor for.
Your parents, ever perceptive, noticed your unease as you fidgeted with the napkin in your lap, casting worried glances in your direction. You tried to muster a reassuring smile, but it faltered, betraying the turmoil within you.
How could you explain to them that the man you loved couldn't find the time to meet them, despite his promises and assurances? "What's wrong, sweetie?" your mom asked, concern evident in her voice.
You sighed, hesitating for a moment before replying, "It's Carlos... He like…"
Your dad's brow furrowed. "Is everything okay?"
You tried to muster a reassuring smile. "Yeah, he said that he got caught up with work. You know how busy he is with his racing and all..." Your dad’s brows furrowed when you trailed off, about to ask you what exactly you meant but just as you were steeling yourself to broach the subject, the doorbell rang, startling you from your thoughts.
Your heart sank as you realized it was likely a neighbor stopping by to meet you since you don’t visit that often, you stood up to go greet them. But then, to your disbelief, you heard his voice drifting through the door, before you saw your boyfriend standing right behind it. Your head titled in confusion and you drew a breath that took most of the stress from the previous days away from your body.
"Sorry I'm late," he said, his tone apologetic yet determined. Carlos took your hand and kissed it lightly,"Traffic was a nightmare." “What about the conference that you-” “You’re the most important person in my life, Y/N.” He cut you off before pulling you in and walking to the dining room that was in his vision. As if that was the answer to your question.
You turned to face him, your eyes wide with surprise and a flicker of hope. There he was, looking slightly disheveled but undeniably earnest, his gaze that locked on yours was as if it was seeking forgiveness. You could see the sincerity in his eyes, the regret etched in the lines of his face.
Your parents exchanged a glance, their expressions softening as they took in the sight of Carlos standing before them. 
Despite their reservations about his repeated absences, they couldn't deny the genuine affection that Carlos held in his eyes when he looked at you.
Before you could find the words to respond, Carlos took a step forward, his hand reaching out tentatively. "I'm really sorry, both of you," he said, addressing your parents directly.
"I know how important this is to you, and I should have made more of an effort to be here on time."
His words hung in the air, a silent acknowledgment of his shortcomings and a pledge to do better. You felt a surge of emotion welling up inside you, a mixture of relief, gratitude, and a glimmer of renewed faith in your relationship. "Well, we're just glad you could make it," your dad said, offering Carlos a handshake.
"Thank you for coming, Carlos," your mother said, her voice warm yet cautious. "We understand that life gets busy, but it's important to make time for the people who matter most."
Carlos nodded, his expression earnest as he met her gaze. "I couldn't agree more. Family means putting in effort, I promise to make it up to all of you."
As you sat down to dinner, the atmosphere was tinged with a sense of reconciliation and hope. Your hand still intertwined with his as you saw him charm your family. Despite the rocky start, Carlos's presence brought a newfound sense of unity and understanding to the table. And as you shared stories and laughter, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the opportunity to mend what had seemed irreparably broken.
In that moment, you realized that love wasn't just about grand gestures or sweeping declarations—it was about the everyday moments of connection and compromise, the willingness to forgive and grow together.
And as you looked at Carlos, his eyes filled with determination and affection, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together, hand in hand.
Charles Leclerc
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Charles had apologized right after he had said those words and though you had both fallen back into routine, the underlying bitterness and resentment was still present. You weren’t the one initiating any kind of affection from your side and every time Charles was initiating anything, you half assed your way out of it. Was it childish? Probably. But you were still not comfortable with how easily you had forgiven Charles, burying your hurt just to avoid conflict once again despite knowing deep down that he has hurt you probably more than anyone else ever has. These thoughts were running through your head as you sat beside Charles, your heart still heavy with the weight, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the air. Especially because Charles seemed distant, his mind preoccupied with thoughts, that you couldn't help but wonder what exactly they were. Why had he even asked to go on a date today? To break up with you? Suddenly, Pippa appeared, her presence causing the knot to form in your stomach to get tighter. She approached with a confident stride, a charming smile gracing her lips as she greeted Charles with a hug.
"Hey, Charlie!" Pippa exclaimed, her eyes flickering briefly in your direction before returning to Charles. "Long time no see!"
Charles returned her hug, though his embrace seemed somewhat forced. "Hey, Pippa. Yeah, it's been a while." 
You observed their interaction closely, your unease growing with each passing moment. Pippa's presence always seemed to unsettle you, and you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to their friendship than met the eye. Was he gonna break up with you in public and confess his years long feelings for Pippa? Charles glanced at you, his expression softening as he reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. "I was just out with Y/N today."
You couldn't help but feel a rush of warmth at his actions, his affectionate gesture soothing some of the tension that had been building between you.
"Nice to meet you, Y/N," Pippa said, offering you a friendly smile. "Sorry I didn’t see you next to Charlie."
You returned her smile, though it didn't quite reach your eyes and managed to reply without gagging. "Nice to meet you, Pippa." Charles tightened his grip on your hand, silently reassuring you of his presence and support. "We were just grabbing a coffee," he explained, his gaze flickering between you and Pippa. "Care to join us?"
Pippa hesitated for a moment, her eyes narrowing slightly as she glanced at you before turning back to Charles. "Actually, I was hoping we could catch up alone, if that's okay."
You felt a pang of anxiety at her words, a sense of foreboding settling in the pit of your stomach. Despite your reservations, you nodded, forcing a smile as you released Charles's hand. It was better to walk away yourself than to have Charles dismiss you.
"Of course," you said, though your voice sounded strained even to your own ears. "I'll wait for you outside."
Charles shot you an alarmed look as you stood up,”I’ll see you in a few.” Charles’ hand lingered on yours for a moment longer before you reluctantly let go and made your way to the door.
You leaned against your car and enjoyed the wind for a second. You couldn’t help but catch a glimpse of the exchange between your boyfriend and his best friend sitting inside.
You were half scared to find them kissing or something but, instead a sense of confusion washed over you as you watched the way Pippa was angrily point a finger at Charles and scream at him.
It was a second later when she stormed out before making her way towards you.
"Is he doing this because of you?!" Pippa's accusatory tone sent a shiver down your spine, her words hitting too close to home.
Before you could even process what was happening, Charles emerged from the cafe, his expression determined as he approached you and Pippa.
"Go home, Pippa," he said firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument as he intertwined his hand with yours.
Pippa's eyes blazed with anger, her fists clenched at her sides as she glared at Charles. "You will regret this, Charles!" she spat before storming off, leaving you both standing there in stunned silence.
Once Pippa was out of sight, you turned to Charles, your heart pounding in your chest. "What was that all about?" you asked, your voice trembling slightly.
Charles sighed, running a hand through his hair as he looked at you with apologetic eyes. "I'm sorry you had to witness that, Y/N. Pippa has been... difficult lately."
You frowned, your mind reeling with confusion and frustration. "Difficult how?"
Charles hesitated for a moment, his gaze searching yours as if trying to find the right words. "She's been pushing boundaries, trying to come between us. But I won't let her." 
"Hey," he continued, taking your hand in his. "I told Pippa that I wouldn't be spending time with her alone anymore. If she can't accept you, then it's better for us to not be friends at all."
You blinked in surprise, a rush of gratitude flooding through you at his words. "Really?"
Charles nodded, squeezing your hand gently. "Really. You're the most important person in my life, and I won't let anyone come between us."
Tears welled up in your eyes as you wrapped your arms around him, holding him close. "Thank you, Charles. I appreciate you standing up for us."
He smiled softly, squeezing your hand reassuringly. "I'll always stand up for us, Y/N. You mean everything to me."
Tears welled up in your eyes as you threw your arms around him, holding him close. Despite the lingering bitterness and resentment, you couldn't deny the overwhelming love you felt for him in that moment.
Lando Norris
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As you stepped out of the taxi, the cool night air enveloped you, offering a moment of respite from the whirlwind of emotions that had engulfed you throughout the evening.
Your heart still felt heavy with the weight of Lando's hurtful words, but beneath the pain, a numbness resided- knowing deep down that you might’ve just broken up with your boyfriend.
Before you could take another step, you heard the sound of hurried footsteps approaching from behind. Turning around, you saw Lando rushing towards you, his eyes filled with remorse and his expression wrought with sorrow. Your hand instinctively went to your chest, trying to calm the rapid beating of your heart.
"Y/N, please wait," he called out, his voice pleading as he reached your side, breathless from his haste.
You pulled your face to meet his eyes, uncertainty and wariness etched into your features as you met his gaze. Part of you yearned to turn away, to shield yourself from the pain of his words, but another part couldn't help but hope that maybe, just maybe, he was sincere in his apology.
"Lando," you said softly, your voice tinged with a mixture of hurt and apprehension. You wanted to say more but the damn ball in your throat stopped you doing so.
He took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours as he searched for the right words to express the depth of his regret. "I know I messed up, Y/N. I hurt you, and I can't even begin to tell you how sorry I am for that."
His words washed over you like a soothing balm, offering a sliver of comfort. But still, you couldn't bring yourself to let go of the hurt that lingered in your heart.
"I should have been there for you tonight, supporting you and showing you how much you mean to me," Lando continued, his voice filled with genuine remorse. "Instead, I let my own selfishness and insecurities get in the way, and for that, I am truly sorry."
Tears welled up in your eyes as you listened to him, the sincerity in his voice echoing the ache in your own heart. You were sure you’ll regret letting go of this amazing relationship without at least attempting to work on it.
Despite the pain he had caused you, you couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance to rebuild what had been broken.
"I don't expect you to forgive me right away, Y/N," Lando said softly, his hands shaking and showcasing the intensity of his vulnerability.
"I know I have a lot of work to do to earn back your trust and your love. But please, just give me a chance to make things right. I promise to do whatever it takes to show you how much you mean to me, every single day for the rest of my life."
His words hung in the air, heavy with sincerity and remorse, leaving you torn between the desire to hold onto the pain of the past and the hope for a brighter future. As you gazed into his eyes, searching for any hint of insincerity or deceit, all you found was raw honesty and unwavering devotion.
With a heavy heart and a flicker of hope, you reached out to take his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. "I don't know if I'm ready to forgive you just yet, Lando," you whispered, your voice trembling with uncertainty.
Lando takes a step closer, gently cupping your face in his hands. "I'll spend every moment proving I'm worthy of your love, Y/N. Let me show you how much you mean to me, starting from this moment. I'll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust, even if it means giving you the space you need. Just know that I'm here for you, whenever you're ready."
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©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.
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bet-on-me-13 · 4 months
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Ellie wasn't born a Halfa
So! Jason just found something weird. Or rather. Someone.
A little girl, no more than 6 or 7, crying behind a dumpster in an alleyway. Now, as unfortunate as it is, this isn't that strange a sight in Gotham. Kids are always running away from home, getting lost, being left homeless after a mugging gone wrong, but this time was different.
Because the kid was glowing.
When he found her hiding behind the Dumpster, a medical gown being the only thing she had to protect herself from thr frigid Gotham Winter, he didn't hesitate to give her his Jacket and take her to his nearest safe house.
(Actually it took a little while to convince her to accept the Jacket, and even longer to get her to agree to being taken to his safe house, but they got there in the end.)
When he had finally gotten her set up in a side room of the Warehouse, with the most comfortable bed and thickest Blankets he could find, he tried asking what had happened.
"Daddy lied." She said. "He said he loved me, but then he made another kid and said he didn't care about me."
And, once again, it was unfortunately not that uncommon to see runaway kids from neglectful homes, but the way she said it raised some flags in his head.
"...and, how did you end up in Gotham?"
"I ran. He said I was a spare, and that scared me."
Well, that was even more horrible than he had anticipated. What kind of monster tells their kid that they're a spare?!
"And, I'm sorry if this is a touchy subject but why are you glowing?"
She just buried her face in the Blankets and shook her head.
"Alright then, that's fine. You can tell me when you're ready, or even not tell me at all, I'll accept either or".
For the next few weeks, Jason juggled running his newly created criminal empire and raking care of the kid. He still hadn't gotten a name out of her, but she said to call her "Dp" instead. 'It's the best I'm gonna get', he thought.
It was only after a few more weeks, right before he was about to begin his Plan of confronting Bruce about the Joker still being alive, that she approached him and agreed to tell him everything. He was actually really glad that she finally seemed to trust him enough to tell him.
"Okay Dp, you can start wherever you want."
"...well, I guess I should start with my name..." She started, "...or rather, my lack of one..."
"What?" Asked Jason in a soft voice.
"I, I don't have a name." She explained, "Daddy never gave me one. He just called me DP-2."
"...what do you mean by two?" Asked Jason.
"It-It's my Experiment Number." She said, stuttering a little, "I'm not a normal person, I'm a Clone. I was made to be daddy's perfect child, but I was just the test run. He said that I wasn't needed after he made DP-3, and that all I was good for was spare parts."
Jason felt his throat dry up. Dp was a Clone? Of who? Who made her? What right did that guy have to reject her?! Who in their right mind would make a Clone and then reject the Clone?! How dare he!
The Pits perked up
He felt the Pits rising a little, but managed to push them down. Dp needed support, not the Pits.
"It's Okay kid." He said, holding her had reassuringly. "It's perfectly okay to be different. I accept you as you are, and I'm sure as hell not gonna abandon you that easily. Or, ever really. You're stuck with me, whether you like it or not."
She giggled, and hugged him. A thoughtful look crossed her face, and she pulled away.
"There is one other thing...you know how I glow sometimes?" She asked.
The Pits felt a sense of dread
Jason felt like he wasn't going to like this. "Yeah?"
"Well, when I said I was meant to be a Clone, I never mentioned who of." She explained slowly. "He's a kid named Danny, and when he was 14, he had an accident where he died and came back as a Half Undead."
No...
Jason really wasn't liking where this was going.
"When Da-Vlad tried to make me, he realized that those powers couldn't be cloned..." She paused here, seemingly gathering the courage to continue. "...they needed to be added afterwards."
NO.
He didn't. He had better not have, for his own Fucking Sake, he had better not have done what Jason thinks he did.
"So one day, he took he down to the Lab, and he put me in a big machine." He voice broke a little. "He locked me in there, and then I think...that I died..."
...
For once, Jason felt completely in tune with the Pits. He was going to Kill that guy.
...
Sorry if this feels a little rushed, I kept going back to add or change parts of it.
Basically, Vlad realized that you can't Clone a Halfa. So, he made a workaround. He just stuck his first Viable Clone into a Portal, and let the machine Kill her. When he realized that it worked, he knew he had no use for Ellie anymore aside from spare parts.
And he told her as much, Vlad is a fucking asshole.
Ellie, of course, got scared and ran away. She ended up in Gotham, and was adopted by Jason right at the start of his Criminal Career.
When Jason finally hears about the rest of his kids' Backstory, he decides that Batman can wait his turn. He needs to go Kill that Vlad Bastard.
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flrlgreen · 2 months
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taboo (toji fushiguro x reader) + twt prn link
a/n: i'm finally back and i'm here to stay! i was taking a much-needed break but now that i'm back requests are open and i'll be fulfilling requests that i've already received. as always, thank you for all of the support! (this isn't realistic i almost passed out when i lost my virginity LMAO)
MINORS DNI
content warnings: LEGAL AGE GAP, reader is in college and toji is in his 40s, unprotected sex, toji is manipulative and shitty, dub con, loss of virginity, vaginal sex, toji says mama, baby girl, good girl, baby, etc, talks of breeding and marriage.
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Spending time with your best friend’s dad Toji. At first. Seems innocent enough and there’s no reason to think anything suspicious was going on. Of course, if you ignore the fact that he practically undresses you with his eyes and looks at your soft tits and ass when he thinks you’re not looking.
Tonight was the breaking point. The moment he saw you in the living room watching a movie with your now-sleeping best friend in those tight shorts he loved so much he knew he had to have you. Tonight.
There was a lot of suggestive flirting and before you knew it one thing led to another and you were in the middle of Toji’s big and soft bed with Toji on top of you.
“Been wanting you for so long you have no fuckin’ idea.” He says while licking a long stripe up your neck. A small whine escapes your lips. It goes to his leaking cock that’s now uncomfortably straining against his pajama pants.
“T-Toji wait.” You say nervously. “Hm?” He hums and pulls away from your neck and gives you a look full of concern. “I-I’m a virgin.” You stutter nervously and await his response. His gaze softens when he hears that you’re a virgin. “Aw, ‘s okay Sweetheart. I’ll be gentle and take care of you, ‘kay?” He gives your forehead a tender kiss before putting his forehead against yours and making direct eye contact. “O-okay, I trust you.” You feel like your face is on fire. Toji smiles before leaning in and pressing his scarred lips on yours.
It feels natural to kiss him back. It feels so right. His lips were impossibly smooth and tasted so good, it made you crave more of him. His strong calloused hand played with the hem of your top before it found its way up your tank top. a small mewl left your lips, but he couldn’t help himself. He just wanted to feel you all over. He had been waiting for this exact moment since he laid his eyes on you after all. “Shhhh~ It’s okay Baby lemme take care of you.” He whispers into the kiss. “I promise I’ll make you feel good.”
You knew Toji had a lot of experience with women and he sure as hell knew how to please one. Admittedly, you were a tad nervous but Toji was probably the perfect candidate for taking your virginity. The older man’s large hand found the soft flesh of your breast and your hard nub. “Hmmph! T-Toji!” You cry out and pull away from the kiss. “You’re so sensitive, we need to be quiet, we don't want to wake her, do we Baby Girl?” He whispers and uses his free hand to cover your mouth while kneading the soft flesh of your breasts with the other. You nod and hold back your moans while he begins to rub the sensitive bud. “I need to see these fucking tits.” He huffs.
The hands that were just massaging your breasts and covering your mouth are now at the neckline of your tank top. He’s so desperate to finally see your pretty tits after all this time that his strong hands rip the thin material of your tank top with no struggle. “‘m sorry Baby I had to.” A whistle leaves his lips when he sees your tits on full display for him. “Mmm, such pretty little tits Mama~” Your face turns a shade of bright red when you feel his sharp lustful gaze on your exposed chest.
“Can I Baby?” He licks his lips and looks at you for approval. “Mhm.” You were so shy and it was making Toji’s cock ache. He licks his lips before he lowers himself and leans in. The tip of his tongue nips your hardened nipple. “Fuck!” His mouth leaves your nipple, “Feels so good doesn’t it?” All you can do is whimper while his whole undivided attention is on your tits.
You can’t stop the moans that escape your sinful mouth. His movements switch between suckling on your hardened nipples and squishing your tits together and stuffing his face between them.
“‘M so obsessed with your tits. Even better than I imagined.” He squishes your soft tits together while his green eyes look up at yours. “No one else can touch these tits. Mine.” Toji leaves a soft bite on your right tit before his hand travels lower.
“Can I touch you down here, Sweetheart? I’ll make it feel so good.” He toys with the waistband of your tight shorts. “I bet your little virgin pussy is the sweetest.” Your legs clench when the words leave his lips. “I’m a little scared.” “There’s no need to be. You know I wouldn’t hurt you right, Doll?” The fingers that were toying with the waistband of your shorts were pulling them lower and lower. “I know I can make you feel so good. Just let me ‘kay?” “B-but!” Your shorts and panties are pulled down in one swift motion before you can even retort. Your soft cunt gets exposed.
The man between your legs licks his lips when he sees your soft virgin cunt. Your hand immediately goes down to cover your pussy which Toji wasn’t a fan of. He grabbed your small and weak hand and moved it away. “Let me see.” He demands while lifting your legs so he can see your puffy pussy. “Fuckk- Such a pretty little cunt. All for me too, no one else is allowed to touch you like this Baby.” “This is so embarrassing,” Two hands cover your face while Toji takes in the view of your body completely exposed to him now.
“Don’t be so shy Sweetie, you’re so fucking delicious.” He bites his lip and looks at your glistening folds.
He can’t help it, he wants to touch you now. His pointer finger dips between your slick folds and grazes your clit. “A-ah! Be gentle, pretty please.” Toji can’t help himself. All of your whimpers and mewls make him want to ravish you more and more. His cock needs to feel your tight pussy and needs to breed you full of his cum. He runs his finger up and down your folds.
He uses the fact that you’ve never felt anything like this before to his advantage. He frees his weeping cock of the restraint of his pajamas and damp boxers while you were a sensitive moaning mess from just his finger. He almost feels bad.
His cock is thick and long and he knows that it’s hard to take. Even for the more experienced women that he had slept with. The cold air hit his cock and he couldn’t hold back his soft moan. He also couldn’t help pressing the huge tip on your wet folds. “H-Huh? Is that?” You’re a bit confused, but then the realization hits and you realize what’s touching your wet cunt. “Mhmmm, it’s big isn’t it?” A shit-eating grin is plastered all over his face while he grips the base and rubs it between your wet folds, earning a moan from you. You uncover your face and take a look at Toji’s leaking cock on your pussy. “It’s so big, will it fit?” “Of course it will. If not. I’ll make it fit.” The tip of his cock poked at the small opening.
“Be good for me, yeah?” Before you can even process what’s happening you feel the tip of his thick cock begin to sink into your heat. “I-“ He didn’t even give you the chance to even adjust before his huge cock felt like it was ripping you in half. “Toji! Hurts. It’s not gonna fit!” You practically yell. “That’s only the tip Baby. Be a good girl and be quiet for me.” His tone is now low and almost scary. “Hurts so bad,” Tears begin to prick your eyes while Toji’s thick cock bullies its way into your tight virgin cunt.
“There we go-“ He groans when your pussy finally stretches around the thick length. “Wasn’t too bad was it?” His tone was almost condescending. The stretch was some of the worst pain you had ever felt, you almost regretted losing your virginity to someone that was so. Well endowed. Not that you could have possibly known that. “Hurts so badddd-“ You whine when you feel his coarse pubic hair against your bare pussy.
“Don’t be such a whiny baby,” He gives your clit a harsh slap making you yelp. “I’m sorry. Ah!” The feeling of being full is so unfamiliar, but it’s something you can get used to. His cock was so thick, but it filled you to the brim as bad as the stretch felt you knew it would be temporary. “I’ve never had pussy this tight. I should have fucked you a long time ago.”
When he thinks he’s waited enough time he begins to move his hips. “Your pussy is sucking me in. So perverted.” He bites his lip while he tries to savor the feeling of your tightness.
“T-Toji- Need more~” The pain had subsided and waves of pleasure had begun to wash over your body little by little.
“Do you? Such a needy girl.” He presses your plush thighs together. “I’ll give you more, dirty girl.” Toji wants to make you see stars and make sure you never forget this exact moment. As long as he can leave you a begging and whimpering mess he knows he’s done his job.
His hips slam into you over and over again. His balls hit the fat of your ass whenever he sped up. “I love my sweet little Baby. You’re so good and obedient. You belong to me now.” You could tell by his higher tone that he was enjoying this a little too much and getting carried away with such possessive language.
“You let me in raw, what a dirty girl. I need to breed you and make you a mommy.” He’s getting close and you could tell. “You’d like that, I know you would. Being my little pregnant wife.” His fingernails were digging into your soft thighs while he slams in and out.
“The way you’ve looked at me, I know you want this too.” “Breed me Toji,” You don’t need to tell him twice.
“You’re something else- Oh my god- I can’t hold back.” He groans before he feels pleasure wash over his muscular body.
“My god. I came so much so fast.” He sighs before pulling his softening cock out of your hole.
He watches as his warm seed spills out of your abused cunt. “You old perv, did you actually cum inside?” Silence.
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whumpster-dumpster · 6 months
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100 Ways to say "I Care"
See the original 100 Ways to say "I Love You" list here: [x] I was inspired to make one of my own for caretaking themes 💕
"I'm here."
"Stay still."
"Trust me."
"You're safe."
"I've got you."
"I don't mind."
"I'm not mad."
"Lean on me."
"I understand."
"It's no bother."
"I'll clean it up."
"Take my coat."
"Need a hand?"
"Are you okay?"
"I'll handle this."
"Happy to help."
"Get some rest."
"Can I hug you?"
"I'll get the light."
"I can't lose you."
"Shh, don't cry..."
"My door's open."
"Take small sips."
"Stay behind me."
"I'll walk with you."
"Feel better soon."
"You're not alone."
"How'd you sleep?"
"I just want to help."
"I've got your back."
"Please be careful."
"It wasn't your fault."
"I'm a good listener."
"Let me help you up."
"When I say run, run."
"I'm glad you're okay."
"You're not a burden."
"I made your favorite."
"I'll see what I can do."
"How are you feeling?"
"We'll get through this."
"That's it, just let it out."
"I'm worried about you."
"I'll start a bath for you."
"I'm coming right back."
"I can stay up with you."
"I wish you had told me."
"It's okay to not be okay."
"Your health comes first."
"You need a ride home?"
"Sit tight, I'm on my way."
"I'm not here to hurt you."
"I'm not going anywhere."
"Just looking out for you."
"I'm sorry, I know it hurts."
"Let me worry about that."
"Stay as long as you want."
"I'll take care of everything."
"It's fine, I'll take the couch."
"I came as soon as I heard."
"You really gave us a scare."
"I'm not leaving you behind."
"I'm never too busy for you."
"I'll stay until you fall asleep."
"You don't have to apologize."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"It's okay, it was just a dream."
"You ready to eat something?"
"Don't strain yourself, I'll get it."
"I've missed seeing you smile."
"Do you need another blanket?"
"You didn't deserve any of this."
"Follow my breathing. In...out..."
"Don't scare me like that again."
"I'll wake you in a couple hours."
"It's really me. I'm here, I'm real."
"I won't let them near you again."
"You first, I'll be right behind you."
"Do you want me to go with you?"
"I know I don't have to. I want to."
"You can hold my hand if it helps."
"I've got your next round of meds."
"Let me put on some fresh sheets."
"It's good to see you up and about."
"I'm with you every step of the way."
"I'll be outside if you need anything."
"Hey, you're supposed to be resting."
"You're the strongest person I know."
"Is there anyone you want me to call?"
"If you're not up for this, let me know."
"It's nothing to be embarrassed about."
"I just hate to see you hurting like this."
"Tell me what you need most right now."
"I called off work. You've got me all day."
"You've got my emergency contact info."
"I know you. You don't seem like yourself."
"I have a change of clothes ready for you."
"I'm so proud of you, and how far you've come."
"Call me if you need me. I don't care how late it is."
"They want to get to you, they'll have to go through me."
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inthedoghousern · 3 months
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i miss you, i'm sorry
pairing: lando norris x reader
summary: you and lando break up and a few months later he wants to talk. inspired by "i miss you, i'm sorry" by gracie abrams.
contains: angst
1.9k words
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from: lando (1 new message) december 4, 11:07pm
hey, i'm back in uk for a bit.
You stare at the text for who knows how long. A lump forming in your throat. You had spent hours crying over him. You had spent hours moving back to the UK from the Monaco flat you shared. A text from your ex was the last thing you needed right now.
to: lando december 4, 11:31pm
okay.
A few minutes go by and you get no response. But then your phone lights up with an incoming call, it’s Lando. You stare at it for a few seconds, letting it ring. But you do pick up.
“What do you want.”
Your ex was quiet for a few seconds before he simply replied “I’m just calling to ask how you’re doing.” After this, he was silent for yet another short moment.
“I miss you.”
“Lando…” you trail off. “This isn’t fair.” He was the one who broke things off in the first place. You've been destroyed for weeks, and now just starting to get yourself together.
“I know, I know this is my fault… but just hear me out…” Lando began, but there was a hitch in his voice. He remained silent after this and you could hear his quickening breaths.
“Please… I want us to work this out.”
You're silent for a few moments. “What, you want to just pretend nothing happened? Lando, I don’t think you understand what you’ve been putting me through.”
Lando was silent once more. There was no way he could expect you to instantly forgive him. Your trust in him was shattered and your heart was stomped on.
“No, I don’t want to pretend like everything is fine, it’s not and I know that… please, I just need some time with you so we can talk, that’s all I ask.”
You bite the inside of your lip. This is a bad idea. Hearing his voice is already breaking your heart over and over again. Seeing him might just break you entirely. “I don’t know…”
Lando was still quiet, seemingly thinking about your response. After several seconds, he spoke again.
“Can I come over?”
Again, you're silent for a few moments.
“Fine.”
“I’ll be there soon…” Lando tells you and hangs up.
-
You hear the doorbell ring. You walk over and open the door.
Lando was standing before you dressed in a black hoodie. His curls were messy and you could tell from the way he had his hands shoved into his jacket pockets, that he was nervous.
You open the door wider and move to the side. Not saying anything out loud, but telling him to come in.
Lando stepped into the house and the silence between you two was deafening. He removed his hands from his pockets and glanced around, he had never been inside your new place before. Eventually, his eyes settle on you.
You two don't say anything for several seconds, but the tension in the air is suffocating. This is the first time you have seen each other since the day he broke up with you.
-
Past: August 8th, Monaco.
“Lando, what are you talking about?” Tears are welling up in your eyes and you're trying your best to keep your voice steady.
“This just isn’t working,” he responds. He won’t even look at you.
“Lando,” you plead. “This is out of nowhere, you have to see that.” You take another step towards him, he’s still not making eye contact with you and he doesn’t respond.
“Please just tell me what’s wrong. What can I do?” You're grasping at anything. “Lando look at me.” You gently grab the sides of his face and try to meet his eyes.
Lando finally met your gaze but he wouldn’t hold it for long.
“Neither of us is happy.” Lando’s voice had a hard edge to it, it was clear that he was struggling to keep his voice from breaking.
You let go of him and pull back. His response sends you over the edge, your tears are uncontrollable now.
“What are you talking about?” you sob. “Lando, what is this really about? Don't do this.”
Just the other day you were smiling, tangled up with one another. He was whispering sweet nothings in your ear, you did the same back. Everything was perfect. Everything has been perfect for days, weeks, months, years. He said himself everything is perfect. He said himself that he loved you.
“It has to be like this okay?” Lando replied, his voice cracked with emotion. He was clearly trying to keep himself from crying.
“Then explain! Tell me why. Lando, please we can work this out.” Your voice is shaking and tears are still pouring out of your eyes.
The look on his face is blank, he doesn't know what to say. He couldn’t keep looking at you, it was clear he was trying to keep his composure.
The two of you stand opposite of one another, not moving until Lando finally speaks.
“I’m sorry.”
He says nothing else. You both stand in silence, tears streaming silently from your eyes. They start to fall from his too. “I’m sorry? That’s it?” you finally say in a low voice, with a small hint of anger.
“3 years you’re destroying just like that, and the only thing you can give me is an I’m sorry?”
Lando looks down at the floor, avoiding eye contact with you.
You shake your head and rub your eyes. This can’t be real. “Oh my god,” you choke out with a laugh. A scoff? You're in disbelief. You're pissed. You're devastated.
Lando remained silent. He can't bring himself to respond to you as he knows nothing he can say would make this situation any better. He was a mess of emotions himself, he could feel his head spinning.
You just stand and look at him. Eventually, you turn away and start grabbing your stuff. Essential items at least. You don’t want to start thinking about getting the rest of your stuff out of this flat. Your life that’s accumulated in this space over the past 3 years.
Lando remained silent, he was lost in his thoughts, thinking about what he had just done.
-
Present: Glastonbury, December.
Lando stands in front of you, feeling overwhelmed with guilt and remorse for what he had done.
He broke your trust, he crushed your heart, and now, he's shown up at your doorstep, wanting to talk to you.
You walk into the kitchen and lean against the counter. He follows you, standing in the doorway, watching you.
He knows he shouldn't have come here. He knows he doesn't deserve a second chance with you after how he treated you.
Lando looks at you, his heart aching, wishing he could simply hold you close right now.
“So?” you finally ask.
Lando was silent for a few seconds, looking into your eyes with deep sorrow.
“I…” Lando stumbles over his words momentarily, trying to find the right thing to say.
You don't wait for him to find it.
“Am I ever going to get an explanation? Why you did it.” You can feel tears forming and you're trying your best to hold them back. He’s been here for all of 5 minutes.
The two of you stand in silence, with neither of you wanting to speak. Finally, Lando takes a deep breath.
“I was a mess,” Lando began slowly. He looks at you, his gaze fixed on yours. You could see the sadness in his eyes, he was clearly struggling with his emotions again.
“Racing was pulling me in all different directions. I was losing grip on that balance we had." Lando’s voice was shaky. He couldn’t help but feel like he had made a horrible mistake by ending things and letting you walk out of his life.
“I was overwhelmed, I don't know. Everything just fell apart and I had to choose. You were never anything but supportive. It’s my fault.”
You bite the inside of your lip again. You're really trying to stop yourself from crying. “That’s not good enough.” You cross your arms across your chest. “We-“ your voice breaks. "...We could've talked about it. If that's how you were feeling, we should've talked about it."
“I know that’s not enough…” Lando begins, “There’s so much I want to say… please, just hear me out. I know you must hate me right now but… I still love you.”
You break. The tears start flowing from your eyes because of his last statement. You quickly bring one of your hands to your face, trying to brush the tears away.
Seeing the tears stream down your cheeks immediately makes Lando take a step towards you. He doesn’t hesitate. He takes your hand in his, removing it from your face and wiping the tears off for you.
Finally, his eyes meet yours again, and without saying more, Lando pulls you into a close embrace.
You start sobbing into his shoulder. You've missed him so much. It's like you've had an unhealable wound ever since the day he completely ripped himself out of your life.
Lando holds you tightly, pressing his cheek against your head, and wrapping his arms around you. He could feel your body shaking with your sobs, he had never felt so much guilt before.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered.
You don’t know how long it's been when you pull away. Your eyes meet once again as Lando grabs your face, his thumb running across your jawline.
“I ruined us. I know that. But please, it’s the biggest mistake I’ve ever made,” he says low.
You don’t know what to say. He’s holding you the way you tried to hold him that day. But now you're the one with no words.
You should get more of an explanation. You deserve more of an explanation. But his hands are cradling your face, and you look into his eyes and you want to get lost in them. You want to cry even more.
“I’ve missed you so much,” you finally get out.
Lando could see the emotion in your eyes, your voice was cracking, your entire body seemed on edge. He wanted nothing more than to simply hold you close.
Before any words leave his mouth, Lando presses his lips against yours. The kiss was passionate and deep, he didn’t care that this wasn’t exactly the right moment, he wanted to finally feel you again.
The kiss tastes salty from your tears. But you kiss him back. Maybe you shouldn’t.
You continue to kiss, neither of you wanting to stop, letting your emotions take over as you feel a familiar level of comfort with one another. You both feel a sense of relief at this moment like a weight has been lifted off of you.
You could feel Lando’s heart beating against yours as he continued, one hand on your face, the other on your back, pulling you closer.
When you break the kiss, Lando pulls away slightly, just enough so that the two of you could lock eyes. You both seem to be in an emotional daze as Lando’s hand runs from your face to the back of your neck.
“Can I stay?” he whispers to you, his voice sounding shaky, but you could hear the pleading in it.
You nod as your eyes travel all over his face. You don't want to look away, you're scared if you do he'll disappear again.
Lando kisses your forehead and pulls your body closer, the two of you still in an embrace.
You feel the weight of his body against yours and you sink into him, feeling all of the comfort you missed. Lando was feeling the same thing, not wanting to let you go, not wanting to let this moment end.
You know there's so much more to talk about. So much more he needs to explain. But right now it can wait. Right now, you just want to be with Lando. Right now, he just wants to be with you.
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personasintro · 10 months
Text
monachopsis | 09
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↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; after receiving unpleasant news that doesn’t allow you to grow your family, your husband comes up with an idea that unfortunately involves his brother whom he despises
⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: tattoo artist!yoongi x reader
⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst, fluff, smut, mini series, brother-in-law au
⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, ANGST
⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 16.4k+
a/n: the long wait is over and the new chapter is here 🥹 sit back and enjoy ❤️‍🔥
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The cold and dark night perfectly portrays your inner feelings that dawn on you on the outside too, tears blurring your vision as you angrily wipe them off. Stupid, stupid, stupid. You shouldn't have come here. You trusted Yoongi to help you, maybe you even looked for comfort in him but you never expected he would accuse you of something like that.
Absolutely understanding that it's not his responsibility to comfort you, he could've easily told you to fuck off if he wanted. But still, you hoped he would understand. Your reaction is mainly controlled by your emotions, not with your head that doesn't seem to be in the right place.
Life taught you not to expect things from people, but everyone's got their expectations. Especially when you feel like you know that person at least a little bit. So you expect nothing this time, making your way to the car when you hear your name being shouted on the street. 
You've barely managed to take a few, fast and angry, strolls out of the studio. Glancing back and stopping in your tracks, you notice Yoongi staring at you as he rushes to you. You can't face him now. You turn around and continue in your path with even more eager and faster steps to get to your car.
Yoongi catches up to you though, running after you as the wind gets more intense and makes your hair stick to your wet cheeks. He's not going to let you leave, especially when he stormed out of his studio past his very confused friends. He's not fully understanding what happened, he might've gotten carried away and shouldn't have accused you of such things. But from what you were saying, it was something that made sense.
You're not okay. You weren't okay the second he laid his eyes on you when you were standing at the entrance of his new studio. And you're not okay now when he catches you by your forearm, stopping you from getting away from him and he sees your crying face. 
Fuck. Is that all his doing?
“What do you want?” you snap, shrugging off his touch with an angry frown as you wipe your cheeks with the sleeve.
What does he want? He has no fucking idea. He just couldn't leave you in such a state, knowing you have nowhere else to go. For fuck sake, he doesn't get why you came to him out of all people but you did. And he knows he would feel like a fucking asshole if he let you leave in your current state. The look of you only confirms he has done the right thing. 
“I shouldn't have assumed anything,” he speaks, eyes dancing across your face as you're trying to look angry. Only he feels bad for you, knowing what happened between you and his brother is way more serious. “I'm sorry.”
“I'm sorry I came here. It won't happen again.” you say emotionlessly, ending the conversation there as you turn around.
Yoongi doesn't let you. He catches you again, softly but enough to let you stay as he turns you around. “Where are you going?”
“Why do you care?” The same emotionless tone. It makes his jaw tick. 
“Where are you going?” he asks again, this time more deeper and slower.
“To my car. Now let me go.”
The truth is, you weren't only crying because of what Yoongi said. Sure, the interaction shocked you to the point where you felt disappointment, sadness and anger. You don't even know what emotion dominates. However, it's the awful feeling of loneliness and desperation. You have no idea what you're going to do now.
Yoongi watches you, a realization hitting him. “Fuck, you're shaking, Y/N.”
It hits you too. He's right. You didn't even notice it.
And then you break and a silent whimper leaves your mouth. There's no control over it, your body shaking even more as Yoongi sucks in breath harshly at the heartbreaking sight. He moves automatically, pulling your body to his with no protest from your side as you welcome his warmth. Despite the odd situation and Yoongi's arms around your fragile body, it doesn't dawn upon you he's hugging you until he tightens his grip on you.
“It's gonna be okay.” he mutters into the chilly air.
For a moment you're not able to react in any way, you direct all your focus trying to stop the tears that have welled up in your eyes and rolled down your cheeks. 
“Nothing's gonna be okay.”
“Now that's very pessimistic of you.” He tries to joke lightly, letting out just a light chuckle. But once he doesn't seem you nowhere near amused and in the same state, he gently pulls you off him to get another glance at your teary face.
It's embarrassing that he sees you in such a horrific and vulnerable state. For a solid second you hate him for approaching you. Why couldn't he just let you leave? He said what he wanted to say. The hurt still resonates and even when he gently wipes the tears off your cheeks with his thumb, like you would often see in romantic movies, nothing about this is romantic. You're pregnant, nowhere to go and with no one by your side. 
Yoongi might've apologized already, but his assumption and words still sting and you have a hard time believing him. Is he truly sorry? Or he just didn't expect you to storm out of there like that? And finding you crying in the middle of the street like an emotional wreck?
“Come on, let's get you to the car.” he mumbles under his breath, looking around before he gently tugs onto your wrist. He doesn't let go, almost as if he's afraid of you running. 
“My car's that way.” you point out emotionlessly, stubborn to show any more emotion that you already have.
He was right about one thing. You shouldn't drive in this state. No matter what could've happened, this is no longer only about you. You've got one more person to think about. 
“We're gonna drive in my car.” he simply says and you don't argue.
Once he unlocks his car with a key – the old system of unlocking – you get inside and does it feel odd to be back inside it again? No words are exchanged, the radio playing softly in the background as you allow yourself to lean back and stare out of the window. You're not sure where he's taking you. Oh god, is he taking you back home? You can't go there! Not with Yeonseok there. 
Just as you open your mouth, you recognize the familiar street and the direction you're heading at. 
“Where are we going?” you ask, despite knowing but you still have to ask. Yoongi's aware of that.
“To my place.”
“Yoongi–” 
Still hurt (and upset too) by your latest conversation at his new studio, you're aware of Yoongi wanting to be out of this as much as possible. While you're guessing he must feel bad for you and that's why he's doing this, you don't want him to do this out of pure pity. You would rather be alone in a hotel room until you figure out this mess. 
“You said you have nowhere to go, didn't you?” he reminds you. A little output by his bluntness, your mouth opens and closes before you find words. 
“And you said everything is way past us.” You quote him with an edge to your tone, shooting him a side glance as he keeps his eyes on the road as he lets out a sigh. “Drive me to a hotel. Any hotel is fine.”
You feel his momentarily gaze on you. Too stubborn to look, you keep staring ahead with a clenched jaw. It's not like there's no appreciation of what he's doing on your part. After everything – even if the emotions are too raw and current – you can tell that it's a positive thing that he decided to stop you from driving. As usual, you're absolutely clueless about what's going on inside his head or why he's doing this. You don't think he's got any bad intentions. Regardless of what his parents and your husband say about him, you know Yoongi does have a good heart.
But you've got your own pride as well.
“I know what I said and I'm sorry.” he simply says, continuing in his drive and not changing the direction which you decide not to comment on for numerous reasons. 
The air between you is a little stiff, undoubtedly caused by the misunderstanding (is that what it was?), and the way inside the building and his apartment is spent in utter silence. It's until Yoongi closes his front door and you're met with the familiar scent of oranges and wood, that you finally speak up. 
“Why am I here, Yoongi?” you ask, not taking off your shoes like he tells you to – muttering it almost tiredly to be exact. You ignore him, raising your brow as you demand an answer. 
He takes off his shoes and jacket silently, placing the items to their designated place. He's definitely taking his time but you don't budge, hardening your features even more as he takes a sneaky glance at you. 
“Can we not fight?”
“I'm not fighting!” you exclaim, a little bit too loud which causes him to raise his brow at you this time. “Thanks for driving me but I shouldn't be here.”
“But you came to me, haven't you?” he asks, hardening his features just as much. “You must've wanted help.”
“I needed a friend,” you correct him. “I needed someone who understands.” Your voice wavers and you mentally curse at yourself. 
He has no reaction, simply looking at you until he drops his gaze toward his feet.
“I know we're no friends. I'm aware of that. But I needed someone who's familiar with my situation. It was wrong of me to come up to you. You were right, it looked wrong and I shouldn't have–”
“I was an asshole for assuming the reason for you coming there.” he cuts you off. “It didn't even cross my mind that you needed–that you needed someone who understands.”
“You wanted as far out of this mess as possible,” you point out harshly. “And I can't blame you for it. We all got what we wanted, didn't we?”
He looks up, your eyes meeting for a moment as he understands the double meaning of your words. Poking the tongue inside of his cheek, he looks behind you.
“I don't wanna be any burden to you. I will handle this by myself, somehow. I don't know how yet, but it's not your concern. I'm sorry for coming to you.”
“Don't,” he cuts you off, staring at you sternly. “Just stay here, okay?” he asks, sighing exhaustedly like this entire situation makes him both mentally and physically exhausted. 
It definitely exhausts you.
“Why?”
The question is simple. You don't expect him to give you a proper answer or any at this point. Yoongi might be honest but most of the time, he keeps his thoughts to himself. He's not one to open his heart and if he does, he does it almost emotionlessly. You know it's all an act. The often mentioned build-up wall you named in your mind. 
“Because I wanna help.”
That alone makes your breath hitch. Dryly gulping, you try not to react too much as you stand there not moving an inch.
“Do you, now?” you ask. You're aware of your stubbornness and the fact you're not making any of this easy. You should be happy that he's trying to help. At least someone is. Someone that doesn't need an explanation of what a fucked up deal you made. Someone that doesn't need an explanation of why you left your perfect and loving husband. So yes, he's here trying to help and you should be glad for it. A part of you thinks like that. 
But there's that part of you completely clueless by his intentions or inner thoughts. He's talking but at the same time he barely reveals anything. Perhaps your questioning and attitude is caused by still lingering hurt. 
“Yes,” he answers with a frown. “So let me help you.”
Features softening, you stare into those usually sharp eyes that somehow keep their shape despite the light behind them changing. Hesitantly, you take off your shoes and ignore the fact he's watching you the entire time. Once you're done, he leads you further down his small apartment. Not that he needs you. You know this place well and again, it's not like any of you need that reminder. 
“I can lend you some of my clothes.” he says, motioning for you to sit down on his couch.
You obey, placing your hands over your knees as you look around. Why are you suddenly nervous? Or is that discomfort you're feeling? You definitely imagined all of this to go differently. Still a little shaken up by everything that has happened today, everything starts to take its toll on you. 
“I'm not a tea drinker but I should have herbal tea somewhere. I will make you one.”
He doesn't wait for your response, simply walking away to his kitchen to prepare the tea. He's gone for a few minutes, but you refuse to even look in that direction. You hate that feeling of being alone. As soon as you're surrounded by the four walls and silence, minus the occasional sounds of drawers opening and closing that come from the kitchen, everything starts to replay in your mind like a broken record.
Luckily, Yoongi comes back with a cup of tea, placing it in front of you in utter silence. 
“Thanks.”
He only nods, slowly and carefully sitting down on the separate chair. 
“You can take my bed.”
“I can sleep on the couch.” you inform him. “I'm not fragile.”
He seems like he wants to argue at that statement, he keeps his mouth shut. The couch is nothing but uncomfortable and you both know that. But you don't need him sacrificing himself any more than he already has. 
“Don't fight me on this, alright?” he asks gently. When your stern frown meets his exhausted one, you press your lips into a tight line as you mutter out another thanks. “I've got sessions throughout the entire day, but feel free to do whatever you want.”
“I'll leave tomorrow morning. Thanks for letting me stay the night.” you tell him, meaning every word. 
“You can stay however long you want, okay?” He leans his head, trying to catch your eyes again. And once he does and your gaze naturally finds him, he deepens his stare as if to make sure you understand. “I'm barely at home. You'll have this place all to yourself. Not that there's much to do but…”
You press your lips tightly, a little grin threatening to crack. 
“I'll try to come home quickly. We'll figure it out, okay?”
Looking at him once more, you search his face for any answers that are yet to be answered. 
What do you mean, you want to ask. Since when does he want to get involved?
“I thought you didn't want to get involved.” you say silently, staring at your fumbling hands that rest in your lap. 
“Yeah, me too.” he mutters, his eyes not leaving his form. “I got myself involved the moment I nodded to Yeonseok's idea.”
Flinching at the sound of your husband's name, you clear your throat rather awkwardly. 
“It's not your responsibility to get into this mess. I know in a way you're involved, but you're not entirely involved in my and your brother's mess.”
It definitely sounds messy. The argument started with Yoongi, the entire trail of your thoughts started with him in a way. But he doesn't need to get involved more than that. It was a mistake on your part to come to his new place and search for him, in hope for some comfort. 
“Me staying here is just going to cause a disaster.”
You both know you're talking about your husband here. The look you both share says it all. 
“Yeonseok?” he still asks, chuckling a little.
You nod. 
“I'm not afraid of him.”
“I know you're not but he's… you know how he is. If he finds out I'm here–he probably already suspects I went to you. I'm not sure but I think he does.”
“I'll handle him if he comes here.”
You nervously nibble on your bottom lip. Your stupid decision to seek comfort and support from Yoongi might cause even a bigger mess. 
“Don't worry, okay? I'll handle it. Let me help you.”
After staring at him hesitantly, aware of vulnerability written all over your face, you give him a nod. Something that allows him to relax as he leans back, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. 
“Drink your tea before it gets cold. I'll prepare the bed for you.”
You open your mouth to argue but before you can do that, he's already on his feet walking away. Sighing in disappointment, you reach for the plain black cup nevertheless.
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Yoongi doesn't leave for work too early, but early enough for you two not seeing each other. You wake up later than usual, very well aware your late night staring at the dark ceiling and not blinking an eye has a lot to do with it. No matter how tired you truly felt as soon as you laid into the fresh sheets, your mind just couldn't seem to stop working. 
Yoongi stayed true to his words. He stayed on his uncomfortable couch. Proposing sharing a bed is not something appropriate, despite you've shared a bed before. Things are different now. 
The first thing you did this morning, after blinking off any traces of sleep and staring around Yoongi's bedroom, was turning on your phone. No missed calls. You're not sure whether you're relieved or surprised. Yeonseok is usually very caring and tends to get worried. Deep down you know you expected to see at least a message.
It's better this way. Having him trying to reach you would just make you more uncomfortable. You know he's equally upset and even though you've never been through something like this, you made yourself clear.
Getting out of the bed, wearing Yoongi's clothes which you're trying not to think of much, you find a sticky note on a counter. A messily written note. You imagine him writing it at the last minute, hurrying to leave for work. 
There's some food in the fridge, feel free to make whatever you'd like. It's not much but it should do.
Simple, but effective. 
Turning on the kettle, you prepare a cup and tea. Wow, he really isn't a tea drinker. Choosing the only box he has there, you open the fridge to find good ingredients to make a proper breakfast from. You've never been much of a breakfast eater, but after you got pregnant that has changed. You've been craving more food now, even though you sometimes get sensitive about smells and taste.
You settle on a toast. It takes you around fifteen minutes to prepare everything. You purposely take your time, knowing there's nothing much for you to do for the rest of your day. Maybe you should change back into your clothes and leave Yoongi's apartment while he's at work. As much as he assured you he wants to help, you know that's not what he wanted at the beginning. Not that it matters, but something tells you the inconvenience your stay is going to bring. 
You're not a pity case. You hate the thought of him pitying you.
Regardless of your thoughts, your feet don't cross his doorstep. You're in the middle of watching a movie on his Netflix account (hoping he won't mind you using it) when your phone rings. Brows lift up to your hairline, seeing Yoongi is the one calling you. Pausing the movie, you clear your throat before answering. 
“Yes?”
“Um, hey.” Yoongi starts, clearing his tone from the sudden but apparent awkwardness. “Have you eaten?”
Something about that question makes you snort. 
He groans on the other line. Little do you know he's awkwardly scratching the top of his head. 
“I have.” you say with a smile grazing your lips. 
“I'm gonna buy some groceries after work,” he continues. “There are some flyers on the fridge. Feel free to order dinner, there are uh,” he stops for a second. “A few bucks in my nightstand.”
“Yoongi, I should–”
“Just stay there, okay?” 
He's met with silence. 
“Y/N.” 
Stopping yourself from biting your nails, you lick your dry lips. “Okay.”
Once Yoongi ends the phone call without saying anything else, you stay seated in utter silence – staring at the paused movie. It sounded like he needed assurement you wouldn't leave. You're not sure why he's so determined about you waiting up for him. You wouldn't do anything stupid, it's not like you've got many options to begin with. But you promised him you would stay. 
After all, he's the only person who's helping you at the moment. 
Back in Yoongi's studio, he places the phone back onto a counter with a thoughtful look. Too immersed in his thoughts, wondering what he's going to do once he comes back home, he doesn't notice Jimin coming from the back and joining him in the front. 
“Your next appointment is in five. You alright?” he asks, narrowing his eyes at his friend with a suspicious look. 
“Yeah.”
“Who was that on the phone? Your girlfriend?” he teases the older, laughing at Yoongi's unimpressed glare that tells him enough that he's not in the mood for a dumb teasing. 
Actually, he's not been in the mood since he arrived at the studio and opened it with Jimin's help. While Yoongi's tattooing, Jimin takes care of the phone calls and incoming customers. After he ran after you, his friends were kind enough that they took care of the studio. Without their help, he wouldn't be able to start working and would be forced to cancel his long-waiting appointments. He's not in a position to cancel them. Even after paying his debts, he still needs the money.
His aching back is also a good reason for his sour mood. 
“Don't hate me for asking. You've been quite secretive lately, no wonder we're all a little curious.” Even with Jimin's light grin, there's some truth to his words. 
However, Yoongi doesn't agree. 
He's not been secretive. He's always been the same. And he's sure what Jimin hints at is–
“Does it have something to do with your sister-in-law?” He's met with a tougher glare this time, causing Jimin's hands to lift up in surrender, showing him he means no harm.
“Is she okay though? She stormed out of here looking like a mess and then–”
“She's fine,” Yoongi cuts him off, tone harsher than he intended to which causes the younger's shoulders to drop. “Just some trouble back at home. Come on, the client is coming.” he mutters, walking to the back feeling Jimin's eyes on his back the entire time until he hears his cheerful greeting to one of Yoongi's new clients. 
Despite the lack of Yoongi's will to share any information about what happened in the span of twenty-four hours, Jimin and none of his friends have a clue in what a fucked up situation he found himself in.
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He never said at what time he would be back. 
You've waited long enough for him to come, too embarrassed to admit your ears have been perked up at the littlest sounds, expecting the keys rustling in the lock. But when it was around eight and your stomach started to churn loud enough to no longer be ignored, you listened to Yoongi's words and ordered a delivery. 
At least something seems to go right when you're in the middle of opening one of the containers when you hear the door being pushed open. It shuts in the distance and with soon approaching footsteps, you come into an eye-contact with him. Two bags full of groceries are in his both hands as the delicious smell of fresh food invades his small apartment. He glances at the amount of containers before he looks at you. 
An almost inaudible Hi comes out of your mouth and instead of a vocal greeting, he nods in acknowledgement as he greets you back by it. 
“I ordered some for you.” you tell him, slowly – almost cautiously – sitting behind the table. 
“Thanks.” he says, eyes still lingering on the full table as your eyes widen in realization.
“Oh, I paid for it. I got a little carried away and got us a pizza and chicken wings. There's rice and a few side dishes as well.” 
Yoongi listens for a second, walking to the kitchen counter where he sets the grocery bags before he turns around. He stays rooted in his spot, eyes falling down on you as you give him a sheepish look. 
“I told you there's money in my nightstand. You didn't have to buy all of this.” 
Even with his little pointed look and tone, you know he means well. And perhaps he's too prideful to suck up the fact you paid for it. Yoongi did say there's a few bucks in his bedroom but the order you placed cost more than just a few bucks. Although, you never checked how much money he has there – it didn't even cross your mind – none of it matters. 
“I wanted to buy us dinner. It's my way of saying thanks for letting me stay here. It's the least I could do.”
Holding back any sort of reaction like you're used to when it comes to him, Yoongi sighs and rubs his face tiredly. Then he looks at you and cracks – what seems like an attempt to – smile.
He knows there's no way in arguing with you on this. 
“Thanks. You didn't have to though.”
“I know I didn't. I wanted to,” you assure him right away, smiling in his direction as if to silently say that you're done with this conversation. “Now eat up. I hope you haven't eaten dinner already.”
“I haven't,” he hums, joining you at the table as he looks at the containers opening them. “Just how much did you order?” he asks, lips twitching.
“A lot.” you laugh. 
Yoongi goes to grab utensils, washes his hands before joining you again at the table. The moment of you two sitting behind one table – just the two of you – having dinner feels odd. It feels oddly domestic. Just as the both of you are ready to dig in, Yoongi mutters a soft; 
“Thanks for the food.”
All you can muster is a soft smile without even looking at him, stuffing your mouth with the delicious pizza as you continue to eat in silence. 
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After yesterday's late dinner and during the time he cleaned the kitchen, he asked you for your car keys and documents, so he could bring the car today. Not wanting to argue about that, you agreed to Yoongi's plan – making sure it's no bother which earned a certain type of look from him. Or was it a glare? 
You've had the whole morning to think of your next step. Yoongi had left earlier than yesterday, the only difference is that he informed you about him having to leave very early. Something about his day being fully packed, so the only time he can bring your car is in the evening.
Your entire life is currently a big mess. What was supposed to be the happiest stage in your life, you're spending it at your brother-in-law's place with nothing. All your stuff is back at home. Home. Can you call it that? 
Yeonseok has not contacted you yet. He's probably still upset over the argument and you've no idea what is going on inside his head. Not that you assume he has to contact you in the first place. Actually, you would be glad if he didn't contact you. 
Eventually, the two of you will have to talk. You're not ready. Not after everything that has been replaying in your mind nonstop. Sleep is the only time when you have enough time to rest, and even that is never guaranteed. 
One thing you know for sure, you can't stay here for too long. You don't want to overstay your welcome and despite what Yoongi told you on the phone yesterday, you just know he is going to want this place to himself eventually. Which means, you have to solve this with Yeonseok.
You do have money to stay at a hotel for the time being, but that's not a solution. Just a temporary one. You're pregnant for fuck sake. You're supposed to buy baby clothes and essentials, look around for a good crib and a stroller. Not being in someone else's home, invading their space and privacy and stressing yourself. On another note, it's safe to say that it is completely reasonable for you to stress. Who wouldn't?
The stress has completely invaded your life and while you're trying to keep your cool for the baby, it's bound for it to affect a thing or two. Like forgetting your appointment. 
Good thing is that when you go to check your phone (while trying to give yourself a break from your never-ending stressful thoughts), a reminder pops up on the screen. You've never been one to set reminders on your phone. Just a quick note if there was too much for you. But you've started doing that since going on these appointments that included the baby.
Looking at time, you still have two hours to get there.
But that's where the problem comes. You're without your car, so you're forced to list through your contacts before you dial the only person you've been seeing for the past two days. 
It rings too long to the point you get anxious. You could reschedule the appointment, but with how things have been going so far, you need the assurance that everything is fine with the baby. You haven't experienced anything alarming and concerning that could alarm you, but still. You don't want to neglect anything. If something happened, you would never forgive yourself. 
Whilst in the middle of nibbling on your nails, a gruff voice you've grown to use to reach your ears.
“Um, hi. I'm sorry to bother you, I know you're extremely busy today but–”
“What happened?”
“I'm such an idiot. I just checked my phone and my appointment is today. And you know, my car's not here and I could probably get there by a bus, but I don't know this neighborhood and I'm not sure if I could get there on time.” you quickly explain, not wanting to take much of his time.
You don't know everything about him, but he seems to be the type of person that gets annoyed when someone interrupts him while working.
If he is annoyed, he doesn't show it too much. 
Or it's hard to tell because his usual stoic demeanor can be recognized even through the phone. “What appointment?” he sighs.
“With–with the baby.” 
He stays silent for a moment, “What time is it?”
“It's half past ten.”
“I meant the appointment.”
“Oh,” you let out, chuckling at your mistake as you mentally facepalm yourself. But it's worth it, there's something like a huff of chuckle on the other line which breaks his usual demeanor you mentioned earlier. “In two hours.”
“Ah, fuck,” Yoongi sighs a little, “Okay. I will drive you there.”
“You sure?”
“How else you wanna get there?” he asks, which shuts you up for a moment.
“I mean, that's true but you said you're busy. Maybe I could quickly check the buses and get to your address. My car's there. Oh, how did I not think of it sooner?”
“Stop,” You pucker your lips as you freeze, almost as if Yoongi is right there. “Don't stress yourself. Just get ready, I'll pick you up in like an hour and half.”
“Thank you.” you say, sighing in relief. 
You imagine him nodding as he lets out a humming sound. He excuses himself before he ends the call. Your call falls down on your lap as you stare at the blank screen of his television. Ignoring the thumping of your heart from the entire call, you go get yourself ready.
Yoongi picks you up right on time, his car already parked in front of the building while you walk out of the entrance. When you get inside, you get a greeting in the form of a short nod before he puts the car into drive. Giving him location details, you nibble on your lip for a moment. His car smells like his cologne, mixed with cigarettes and mint. It's an odd scent. Despite you hating the smell of cigarettes, you don't seem to mind this mixture. Besides, the cigarettes' smell isn't that strong. 
“Thanks for coming to pick me up.”
Filling up the silence, you feel like it's the right thing to do because you're not going to spend the rest of the ride in an awkward silence. Glancing at Yoongi, he looks anything but awkward. It's like he's in his own space, distancing from everything and everyone, closing himself off as he focuses on driving.
“Is this the moment where you apologize for bothering me?” he questions, a tilt of teasing in his voice as he says it with the most neutral face. 
You stare at him, mouth agape before he briefly glances at you as he can't hold himself. His lips twitch slightly but you notice it right away. Breathing out a chuckle, you shake your head at him. Min Yoongi is freaking teasing you.
“I mean—you had to get here when you were working.” you point out. 
Though, you weren't planning on apologizing, he's right in a way. 
“But I insisted on leaving your car there. I insisted you drive with me.”
For obvious reasons, you think. Not that you want to admit it, but you're glad he didn't let you drive in the state you were in back then. 
“You don't have your car thanks to me, let's end it with that, okay?”
“Okay.” you agree, turning your head to the window as you stare at the streets and people passing.
Once the road and surroundings become more familiar, the oddness of this all comes to sit in the pit of your stomach. Meanwhile you stare at the tall building you've grown used to, Yoongi finds a good parking spot. Once the engine's off and business of the surroundings can be barely heard through the windows, you reach for the doorknob slowly. 
“You're gonna be fine from here?” he asks, not looking at you when you do glance at him. 
When you don't answer right away, he glances at you before you can find the proper words to tell him that you will be fine.
“You don't need me to go there with you?”
Even if his tone is nonchalant as if he's asking the most basic stuff, he takes you by surprise and makes your brows shoot up. “You would go there with me?” you ask, sounding not totally sold on that idea. 
Looking at him now, he already seems to be wanting to be in a different place. Not in front of a building full of doctors and inside with a bunch of pregnant females. Suddenly, the thought of seeing him there is a little laughable. 
So because of that, you haven't even thought about him being there. Until he said it. 
You do need to admit that you haven't been here alone ever since you got pregnant. Your OB/GYN is here, so you used to go here for check-ups way before that. Yeonseok was the one who joined you right after you got pregnant. Thinking of it now, you're reminded of how excited you were to go for these check-ups, not only to calm down your nerves if everything's right, but to see your baby. Even if you could hardly tell their body parts.
It became the thing between you and him. It's what most expecting parents do, but it became your special thing in a way. Something that you always looked for. Something you've always done together.
But now – it's the first time you're here alone. Yeonseok is not by your side and probably the most distant he's ever been in your life. That's on you though. It would be weird to ask him to come here, after everything that has been said between you and him. 
“I would, if you want me to.” Yoongi replies, catching your attention and as you slowly shake yourself out of your thoughts, you remember what the conversation is about.
“Wouldn't that be weird for you though?” you ask, noticing you still have ten minutes before your scheduled check-up.
He doesn't respond at first, deciding to ignore that question as he sinks deeper into his seat. Elbow coming up to rest against the door, he uses his fingers to rub his chin softly.
“Nothing I couldn't handle,” he decides to say, “You're acting a little weird, that's why I'm asking.”
Clueless to what Yoongi's thinking, he thinks of one of the reasons that could potentially get you acting weird, at least one that's generalized and comes to his mind first. He doesn't even have to think about it too much. You're worried that something's wrong, right? Aren't most pregnant women like that?
Maybe it's better you can't read his thoughts, or else he would get a nasty look in return. You are a little bit more sensitive. 
Should you just tell him? Again, you do not want to burden him in your shit any more than you already do. Telling him about Yeonseok would probably not only put him into a sour mood, but it would mean he would most likely try to understand you. You've figured out a long time ago that he's not bad at all. 
Yoongi is actually a sweet person. Still in his way, but without a doubt, he is one.
Making a decision of just telling him instead, be honest and in a hope he won't think you want to be pitied, you lick your lips as you shrug. “It's because it is weird. Yeonseok used to come with me every time.”
He's silent for a moment, “And now he's not here.” he adds without you having to finish as you nod, confirming his thoughts. 
“Which of course, doesn't mean you have to go with me.” you quickly correct whatever suspicion he might have. 
But looking at him, he looks anything but suspicious. He nods, more to himself than to you or your words, shrugging. “I understand shit about pregnancy, but it probably feels lonely to go there alone, right?”
Well, damn. The look you give him makes him shrug. 
“You don't need to pity me, Yoongi. It's not that big of a deal.”
“I still have to wait for you, right? Need to drive you back.”
“Well, it's up to you.” you mumble, tapping your fingers against your knee. “I don't want you to feel uncomfortable.”
“Around pregnant females?” he chuckles, “How bad can it be?”
“You can come with me, I think…” you nibble on your bottom lip, “I think I would like that.”
He nods.
“But only if you want to!”
By the time you're done talking, Yoongi's already unfastening his seatbelt, motioning for you to do the same. You can't believe you're doing this.
As you approach the building and navigate Yoongi where to go, you're not sure what's weird to begin with. The thought of going here all alone or the thought of Min Yoongi beside you.
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What the fuck.
Pictures of vaginas, uterus and what it looks inside of women's uterus during pregnancy are everywhere. Don't get him wrong, he has seen a fair amount of vaginas and he's quite familiar with it, but not like this. It feels very… odd to be surrounded by a sketched version of it all. Obviously, he's never been in a waiting room like this one.
Sitting next to you soundlessly, he shifts on his spot as you seem to be immersed in your own thoughts. He has no idea why he agreed to this. While he knows you in no way forced him and perhaps you find a weirdness of his presence here as well, he just tried to do the right thing. 
You've been through a lot and as much as he tried to distance from it all, he's got you in his home. Maybe he's not very upfront about it or too enthusiastic, but he does help people that seem in a need of it. Even though he doesn't look like he loves doing it, he just does. Is it important if someone loves or hates helping others as long as they do it? 
Right next to him, legs crossed and fingers playing with your rings, you were right. There are couples, chatting silently with wide smiles as they can't see their little ones forming into a proper life. You were one of those people not long ago. 
You don't allow yourself to feel guilty about it. You did what you had to do to make sure not to hurt yourself or others even more. Only time will show if it was the right decision, but for now, it feels like the best one you could've made. 
On the other hand, you can't believe Yoongi is in a waiting room with you, staring obnoxiously at the image of a uterus. It's pretty laughable though.
Suppressing your laugh, you watch him stretch his legs as his arm rests in his lap. Ignoring the veins that mostly pop up because of the pressure of his posture, he makes himself comfortable. Does he find this weird too?
There is no way he has done this before in his life. Of course, he hasn't. 
“You know,” you murmur silently, just for you and him to hear. He glances at you, giving you his attention but then again, maybe he's glad he doesn't have to stare at the picture any longer. “You don't have to go inside with me.”
As usual, he has no shocked reaction to it. “I didn't even think about it.”
You open your mouth, a little offended look that gives it away as he cuts you off before you can say anything.
“I meant as I'll go and wait with you here.”
He tries to explain in his own nonchalant and informative way. Well, you can't get mad at that. Weirdly, you understand what he means. 
Leaning back and trying to make yourself more comfortable, you hope they'll take you soon so he doesn't have to wait too long. Despite his usually calm demeanor, Yoongi does not look like the type to like waiting. Well, who does? But he surely has no patience for this. Even more so that he has a job that he needs to go back to. 
Luckily, the door opens soon and the nurse you're familiar with calls you in. Some couples like to come early, probably too excited to not mind waiting it out here. Some of them are called as well, since there are more ambulances on this floor.
You grab your things before standing up, making your way inside as the nurse stops you. “Is the young man not going with you?”
Since Yoongi and you were sitting close together, there's a low chance he would be a stranger considering there are free seats on both sides of you. She asks long enough, looking at Yoongi with a welcoming and friendly smile. 
“Ah, that's my friend.”
“We're only screening today. It's up to you though.” she reminds you, smiling widely. You would too if you had her paycheck. It's a private hospital after all.
Not trying to catch too much attention about something so… normal, Yoongi directs his eyes from the nurse to look at you. “It's up to you.”
“As long as you're comfortable with it, Mrs. Min. It was just a suggestion. I know some women bring their friends with them, no matter the gender.” she tries to joke, your smile tight and awkward.
“I'm a family friend.” Yoongi justifies, as if that makes it any better.
It's a look of realization that hits you and you watch it in horrification as her smile grows even wider. “Oh, yes! You do look very familiar. You must be Mr. Min's family, right? It's so lovely of you to come here!”
She's kind and clearly enthusiastic, you can't share it with her though. Staring at Yoongi in pure panic, he gives the nurse an unsure smile as he tries to make things clear – which is not like him at all. 
“I'm his brother.”
You would've guessed he would just keep his mouth shut at Yeonseok's mention, not confessing his relation to him at that. 
“Oh, come on then. Let's look at your niece or nephew.”
You close your eyes, ready to facepalm yourself in front of the entire waiting room as you embrace yourself. You're not sure whether you should laugh at the irony or cry in horrification. 
Yoongi presses his lips tight, nodding awkwardly as he glances back at you, giving you the final decision. 
“I'm okay with that.”
Despite the irony and awkwardness of this all, it would feel less lonely to be inside and look at the baby. Not thinking about the entire biology and blood related thing, Yoongi is a family. Whether we are speaking only metaphorically or taking biology into consideration. If he wasn't fine about it, he would say so, right?
You see he's a little unsure as he stands up, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck as the nurse ushers you both come in. It's hard to decipher what's going on inside Yoongi's head. One thing's sure and that is he's nowhere in his field. He still walks in the room, trailing slowly behind you as another familiar room welcomes you.
Just as your doctor undoubtedly notices Yoongi's presence as soon as she looks up from the computer's screen. 
“It's Mrs. Min's brother-in-law.” The nurse cheerfully informs your doctor, clearly unaware of how much more awkward she is making it for you two. 
You can't be mad at her though. She doesn't know. Yoongi does send her a glare which causes you to inconspicuously elbow him when none of them are looking. He shrugs. After all, it is his fault he admitted his entire relation to you. If he kept his mouth shut and just went with being just a friend, it would be less awkward than this. 
“It's nice to meet you! Let's look at the baby!” Mrs. Kim, the doctor, says as she stands up and motions for you to lay down. 
Trying to shake off any discomfort, you lay down and look at Yoongi for a split second. He stays at the end of the bed, trying to look around as if watching the scene in front of him would make you entirely uncomfortable. It's not like he hasn't seen every inch of you. 
Rolling up your shirt just as Mrs. Kim sits down on her stool and prepares the lubricant gel, you spot Yoongi giving you a side glance. His eyes suddenly turn into a big size, naturally finding the small but evident bump you just revealed. 
You intertwine your fingers together and put them above your stomach, you try to stay calm. 
“This will get slightly cold, you know the drill, Mrs. Min.” The doctor chuckles, squirting a proper amount of the gel onto your lower stomach.
Your attention is turned elsewhere, away from the man who seems so out of place at the moment. You focus it on the screen next to your head, recognizing the familiar sight and colors. However, this time everything's bigger and more visible which makes your chest tight and eyes tear up. 
Whether it's your hormones or current situation that makes you so emotional, all the pressure suddenly leaves for a moment at the sight of your baby.
“Everything seems to be looking just alright, Mrs. Min,” she informs you with a smile, giving you a quick glance as she moves the scanner around your lower stomach. “Come closer, Mr. Min. Have a look.” she urges him, just like the nurse, completely oblivious to everything. 
Yoongi looks like he wants to protest, almost ready to shake his head but when she turns to him with an encouraging smile, he sighs and comes closer. He leans forward.
“There is the head,” she explains to him just like she did to you and Yeonseok before. “And arms and legs.”
He stares, mouth agape. Straightening himself, he clears his throat and gives her a nervous smile. But it comes out crooked. You almost snort at that.
“The baby is on the smaller side.”
“Is that a bad thing?” you question immediately.
“Not at all, it's not anything abnormal or to be concerned about. It mainly depends on the parents.” she explains, calming you down which makes you sigh in relief. “Would you like to know the gender?”
“You can see that?” you almost jump, seeing her smile curve into a wider one.
“Mhm,” she nods, “It might not be a hundred percent accurate, you're still at fifteen weeks.”
“Wow, well–”
“We can wait for your husband if that's what you prefer.” she assures you, a sour taste coming into your mouth as you look at Yoongi. 
“It's whatever you want.” he reminds you silently, the corner of his lips lifting.
By how things look with Yeonseok, you're not sure if waiting for him has any meaning. Fuck. You don't even know if he wants to be the father. How can you possibly just wait it out?
“We could do it on your next scan, it will be more accurate. But I can see it now and I'm eighty percent sure.”
Nibbling on your lip, you literally say fuck it in your head. “Tell me please.”
She chuckles, “From the looks of it, you're expecting a baby girl, Mrs. Min.”
A chuckle of disbelief and joy escapes your mouth, knowing whatever the answer would be, you would be just as ecstatic. It's just knowing the truth and more information about your baby is enough to make you a crying mess. 
“I'm sorry,” you giggle, putting a palm over your mouth as you smile widely. 
“Congratulations, Mrs. Min.” The doctor and nurse speak at the same time.
“Congrats.” Yoongi says, squeezing your ankle. You bite your lip, giving him a slight nod.
The doctor hands you the wipes and lets you wipe the lubricant off your skin. You're taken back when Yoongi offers you his hand when you sit up.
“We'll just draw your blood to run some tests and you're free to go.”
“Are you happy?” Yoongi asks silently once the doctor and nurse are nearby, but not enough to hear you two. The nurse is preparing the needle while the doctor writes the report to your patient card. 
“I am,” you answer with a smile, “I still would be regardless of the gender.”
“A little girl.” he mutters, zoning out for a second.
“A little girl.” you confirm.
You both stare at each other until the nurse comes back and interrupts you, preparing you to draw your blood. “Are you good with needles and blood, Mr. Min?”
He cocks his brow at her, showing her his tattooed sleeve, popped out veins along with it. She blushes in return. She freaking blushes as she laughs a little. You watch the exchange with a deadpan look. He smirks, cockily shrugging when he notices your stare.
She draws your blood, handing you water after she's done just in case. After everything's done, you schedule another appointment before you're free to go. Happily clutching the printed ultrasound, you put it into your purse to keep it safe once you get inside Yoongi's car. 
You're both silent, again, deep in your thoughts until the replay of what happened just a few minutes ago makes you ask. “Why did you tell her about being Yeonseok's brother?”
“Why? Should I have not?” he questions right back.
“I just didn't expect that. You're not exactly too keen on informing others about your relation to him. It just seemed odd,” you shrug, voicing out your thoughts. “It felt… awkward. Y'know, considering everything.”
Yoongi stays silent, lips in a thin line before he sighs. “I panicked.”
“You panicked?” you ask, laughing a little at that. “Because of what?”
“I don't know!” he exclaims, almost whining which makes you giggle. “She kept asking and I just didn't know what to say. Wouldn't it be weird for me to be there as your friend?”
“Hm, I don't think so,” you answer, “You heard her. Many friends come there. She doesn't have to know we're not friends.”
“Ouch,” he tries to play it off, clutching his chest as he keeps his eyes on the road. “Are we not friends?”
“I don't know, you tell me. Bro in law.”
“You did not just call me that.” he cringes, causing you to laugh. 
“You were the one who was adamant of being my brother-in-law instead of a friend.” you remind him cheekily, watching the way he looks away in embarrassment. 
“I panicked.” he mutters rather grumpily causing you to hold your laughter.
After a moment of silence, you look at him again. “Thanks for going there with me. Inside too. It felt nice not having to do that alone.”
“I thought so.” He confesses.
“What do you mean?”
“I thought you might feel lonely,”
You're not sure how to feel about that statement.
“And you're welcome.” he says, though his eyes stay on the road, distant and out of reach.
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Delicious smell flows through Yoongi's home as soon as he opens the front door. After he drove you back to his place, he went to work and listened to Jimin's nagging of being a few minutes late. After today, he felt like he could handle anything so Jimin's scolding did nothing to him. Not that it did before but this time, he decided to ignore him instead saying; Well I'm here now.
Jimin, speechless and annoyed, stayed quiet and only shook his head at his boss and friend. What else for him was to do when Yoongi greeted the client and shut the door behind them, hiding from the entire world.
He loves his work. Partly because he's distracted and has no time to think about unnecessary things. Which came handy especially today.
While he was busy working, you don't have much to do. After staring at the scan for a few minutes and dodging your family's calls, you decided to hop into the nearest grocery store. It's been a while since you baked, you prefer cooking but you've been craving something sweet. At least that's what you told yourself, that's the reason why you decided to abuse Yoongi's kitchen. Not because you wanted to do something nice for him, as another thank you for being there for you.
You've no idea if Yoongi even likes cakes.
So when he suddenly appears between his living room and kitchen, at first you have no idea how to explain the slowly disappearing mess that you've tried to clean off before he arrives. 
“I baked bundt cake,” you inform him, palm spreading and pointing straight at the fresh cake where steam still flows into the air. “I hope you like cakes.”
“Cakes are fine,” Yoongi mutters, watching you wipe off his counter right away.
“I'm sorry about the mess, I tried to clean it before you come.”
“'S fine.” he says, still standing in the same spot. He is not sure what to think of this. 
You finish the last traces of any mess, the good smell, you hope, the only sign of baking remaining. 
“Listen,”
You put the kitchen towel back to place, watching him with doe and curious eyes. 
“I was thinking. Maybe you should get your clothes and stuff.”
You stare, Yoongi clearing his throat as he shakes his head.
“I meant from your home. You don't have much clothes here and it must be uncomfortable not having your things with you.”
“Are you asking me to move in, Min Yoongi?” you tease, trying to hide your natural reaction which you're not sure what exactly is. 
He cringes but chuckles, “You're welcome to stay here.” 
You smirk at his diplomatic response before any traces of amusement are gone, a heavy sigh leaving your lips. “You're right. I probably should do that. The thing is–”
A sound of a doorbell rings through the apartment, your eyes meeting as soon as the sound reaches your ears. “Are you expecting someone?”
He shakes his head. His friends know better than to come unexpected, even though he wouldn't put it past them. Without saying anything, he leaves with a thoughtful look to get the door. Something sits in your stomach, perhaps feeling like something's bad coming.
You barely finish the thought when you recognize the voice of your husband, rushed and angry footsteps. It happens in a millisecond and he's revealed in the flesh, shoving Yoongi in the chest. 
“Where is she?!” he asks, too upset to notice you first but the shock causes you to yelp in surprise, clutching your chest as you watch Yoongi shoving him back. 
However, Yeonseok doesn't reciprocate as the sound coming from you makes his head snap in your direction. He straightens, shocked to see you here but then it turns into a knowing and pained look.
“Of course you're here,” he exclaims.
“Calm the fuck down.” Yoongi warns him. Yeonseok knows better than to react to that, too immersed in you, seeing you in his brother's kitchen. Eyes moving to the freshly baked bundt cake, the one you baked for him multiple times and that's when you see rage coming back. 
“So you live here now?!” he yells, causing you to flinch as you can't move for some reason. You're frozen, unable to move an inch as you helplessly watch the scene in front of you. “Playing a happy family with the man that knocked you up?”
“Someone had to when you couldn't.” Yoongi snaps, a loud gasp leaving your mouth as your palm slap against it, eyes fully wide.
Yeonseok lashes at his brother while you watch in horror as Yoongi is being pushed roughly into the wall.
“Stop!” you yell at your husband, already knowing where this is going. “I came to him! It's not his fault!”
“No, but he welcomed you with open arms, didn't he?” he seethes, clutching Yoongi's shirt in his fists as he throws you a nasty glare. “Waiting for this moment to piss me off and get back at me.”
You don't bother explaining to him that no, it didn't happen like that and from what you can clearly remember, he wasn't too keen on getting himself involved. Whatever it is, he still helped you in the end and that's what upsets Yeonseok. 
“Yeonseok, listen to him,” you grit through your teeth, stepping closer as he refuses to look at you now that you're closer. “I had nowhere to go.”
“Bullshit!” he yells, Yoongi growling at him for raising his voice as Yeonseok only tightens his hold. “Tell me one reason why I shouldn't knock your teeth out right now.”
He is a maniac. Yoongi is a fucking maniac because he laughs in Yeonseok's face, not exactly fighting his hold as if the thought of Yeonseok coming even close to getting violent is a joke itself. Perhaps it is. You've never seen Yeonseok fighting or getting violent. You don't like it. 
“Do it, if it makes you feel better.” Yoongi prompts him with a grin, another gasp yet leaving your mouth.
“Yoongi!”
Yeonseok growls at his brother, throwing Yoongi more into the wall as you cringe at the impact. However, the said man looks unbothered and completely loosen up, showing no resistance. This whole I don't care attitude just pisses Yeonseok even more, prompts him to act violent and upon his anger.
“You're enjoying this, aren't you, huh?!” he yells in his face. Yoongi only scoffs, looking sideways to shield himself from Yeonseok's loud voice hitting him right in the face. “Having my wife in this scrappy place of yours–you've waited for this opportunity.”
Yoongi scoffs, finding Yeonseok's accusation nothing but funny. “The wife you couldn't respect the moment she wanted to break-up.”
Yeonseok's mouth opens in a mild shock, his gaze momentarily falling on you as he stares in utter disbelief. You know how it seems. It's not hard to think what Yeonseok's thinking right now. His assumptions are proved right in his slightly hazy mind. It's not helping with his anger and pain at all. He thinks you really spilled everything to Yoongi. And while you were honest with his brother, it wasn't for some vile reason to hurt Yeonseok. You had to talk to someone and Yoongi would get it. He knows your situation. 
“Aren't you two just lovebirds?”
“Yeonseok–” You sigh, exhaustion prominent on your face and voice. 
“S–” He lifts his hand up to stop you. “Shut up.”
His audacity and the fact he has never spoken to you that way leaves you speechless. You're not able to react but there's barely any time to as Yeonseok seems unhinged, seeing red. 
“Have you fucked her again? Huh? Have you enjoyed fucking her when she's still my wife? We were supposed to be a family. You ruined it.”
“You're delusional if you think I ruined your family.” Yoongi argues, scoffing once again as Yeonseok grunts and pushes him into the wall. 
“Yeonseok, that's a serious accusation. I told you, I came here because I had nowhere else to go.”
“Bullshit!” he yells at you, spits of anger landing in front you as you frown. 
“If you just let me explain–we need to talk. We could still be a family, it's you who said–”
“I know what I said Y/N,” Yeonseok cuts you off, voice angered and powerful. “But I knew you would come running to this–” He looks in pure disgust at Yoongi who only lifts his brow at him. 
“You would what?” Yoongi pushes, “You would want a single mother?”
Yeonseok's face twists in another sign of betrayal and turns into anger. “And you would want her? Is that what you're saying? Take her then. Not so cocky right now, huh?”
Yoongi pushes into him, silently warning Yeonseok to keep his mouth shut. There's nothing you can physically do. You can barely move, watching and listening to the words closely as your heart cracks with each spiteful word your husband says. It's the shock of hearing him talking about and with you like that.
You're not innocent in this at all, but this could've been talked about when everyone's calmed down. Actually, Yoongi shouldn't even be a part of it. Whatever is talked about should be kept between you and Yeonseok. Yet again, you're reminded that Yoongi is currently in this position because of you and your mistake of coming to him. 
“You can't be a father, Yoongi,” Yeonseok mocks him, “You just wanted her for a good fuck, is that it? You wanted to get back to me because you're a pathetic brother just as much as you're a pathetic son.”
“Yeonsoek, that's enough!” you yell, no longer keeping quiet but he ignores you, continuing to spit venom in Yoongi's neutral face.
“Try raising my kid–since you so much helped making it.”
You gasp, face twisting into a glare that's shooting at Yeonseok's back.
“Your kid?” Yoongi laughs.
“Yes, my kid.” Is the one argument Yeonseok doesn't let off. 
“Let's see who the kid resembles when they're born.”
And that's the final line Yoongi gets to say with a smirk on his face, completely provoking Yeonseok to the core as he can no longer stand it. He growls before a punch is thrown at Yoongi's face, causing him to almost slide off the way. He catches himself and while you yelp, hands covering your mouth in a pure shock even though you should see it coming. You've never thought you would witness such a violence, let alone a fight shared between two brothers. 
They've never had a good relationship. Though, you never expected them to come to the point where they actually fight. 
Yoongi straightens himself, thumb brushing the corner of his mouth to wipe off a droplet of blood that is a result of Yeonseok's fists. Everything is silent for a second, besides the harsh breaths coming from Yeonseok's angered state and Yoongi's calm breathing. For a split second, you think everything ended. Literally.
But you would be delusional to think otherwise, to think they're done. Because one second you see Yoongi staring deadly at Yeonseok and before the older brother can react, Yoongi's fist meets Yeonseok's jaw in a loud crack, causing him to stumble into the kitchen counter. You gasp, yelling Yoongi's name as you try to catch Yeonseok, so he doesn't hit the edge of the counter. He shakes you off the moment you get to barely touch him, almost as if you burned him.
Frowning, you step aside. 
“That's for every second you've disrespected her since you came here,” Yoongi spits at his brother, shaking his fist and bloody knuckles.
Yeonseok's too busy holding up his bloody nose. The sight makes your stomach churn, both in disgust and worry.
“And you fucking know you deserve much more.”
Yeonseok's eyes shut in pain, shaking his hand to get some of the blood off it. You watch it stain Yoongi's floor and you immediately cringe at the sight. 
He would have a lot to say, preferably arguing back to Yoongi that it could be an endless fight. This has to end. 
Yeonseok is barely in pain, holding himself bravely though as he straightens himself and stares at Yoongi before he moves it at you. “Fuck both of you.”
He storms out of the apartment, leaving not only a mess on Yoongi's kitchen floor and face, but in your heart too. 
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You're met with a warning glare the moment you press a little too hard. Though, the man in front of you remains silent as none of you dare to speak up. The cake is long forgotten, destined to be thrown away like most things in your life. Besides the blood still covering Yoongi's floor – even if it's just a few droplets – you've moved to his bathroom to take care of his wounds.
He argued not to but you insisted, throwing him a warning glare that made him agree.
“Are you okay?” he speaks up, breaking the silence as you toss away the disinfected cotton wool into the bin.
“Do I seem okay?” you question him, “What were you thinking, Yoongi?” you scold him, frowning once again as he opens his mouth before his own frown settles on his back then calm face. 
“What was I thinking? I'm not the one who barged in here to pick up a fight.”
“You provoked him to hit you, don't tell me otherwise.”
“I won't let him speak to me or to you that way in my home.”
That's a valid point. 
Yet you can't stop thinking that all of this could've been avoided if he just wouldn't provoke him. 
“Yeonseok is not violent, he wouldn't have hit you if you kept your mouth shut.”
“So I'm the bad guy here?” Yoongi exclaims, closing his eyes as he rubs his forehead for a second. “He had it coming and I don't regret it.”
“Yoongi–”
“No. Maybe you're okay with him slutshaming and disrespecting you, but I'm not. I'm not gonna stand there and run his mouth just because he's a fucking pussy.”
“I'm not saying–I get that. But you literally pull on his infertility. That wasn't fair nor nice, Yoongi.”
Yoongi sighs, staring at the ceiling to calm himself down. “That might be right. Wasn't exactly fair, but at that moment I didn't care. And looking at it now, I don't care now either.”
You stare at him in disappointment and sadness, leaning yourself against the sink as you hug yourself with your shaky arms. 
Yoongi watches you, gaze softening. “I'm not perfect either, Y/N. I'm far from it actually.”
“I'm not okay with what he said either. But you don't see me hitting him.”
“He hit me first.”
“Yes, because you provoked him to. And you fucking know it!”
Yoongi stares before an amused smirk makes it on his face. 
“Don't fucking look so pleased!” 
He laughs, shaking his head before his smile slowly drops and you're met with soft eyes again. 
“He would've left if we just–I don't know–but I'm sure there could've been no violence. He's hurt, Yoongi. I left him because I was no longer happy in that marriage. He's heartbroken.”
“Are you making excuses for him?”
“No!” you automatically argue.
“Sure sounds like it.” Yoongi scoffs.
You groan, rubbing the side of your face in frustration. 
“You're here scolding me and raising your voice when he came here and insulted not just me, but you too. And you're still trying to understand him?”
“It's because I know why he feels like that! It doesn't mean it's right! This could've gone so differently–and you just kept going. I told you guys to stop–but you ignored me and provoked him–” You stop yourself, staring at Yoongi who just stands in the middle of his bathroom watching you silently. His brows lift up causing you to sigh in defeat. “I'm sorry. I'm taking it out on you because you're here.”
Yoongi stays silent for a moment, letting you drown in your frustration and regret. His point is proven, he has nothing else to say. 
“Obviously I know he's not right either. What he did was stupid–he already came here angry and to see me here–” You sigh, sniffling a little as you turn around to grip the sink. You breathe through the urge to cry and break in front of Yoongi. “I know we talked about this but I should've never come here. This would not happen if I wasn't here.”
“Stop,” he stops you. Lifting up your gaze, you meet his eyes in the reflection of his mirror. “It's not your fault he acted like an asshole.”
“Yoongi, but in a way I provoked him too by coming here. By staying here.”
“That's messed up to think that,” he still argues back. “You know why you came here. Come on, we talked about this. Stop putting more blame onto yourself. He doesn't do it and you shouldn't either.”
“Because I know what I am saying is the truth.”
“It's your truth,” Yoongi points out, walking closer to you. “Know what I'm sayin'?”
You sniffle, “No.”
He laughs silently, eyes crinkling at the ends as his teeth are on full display. He turns you around by gently gripping onto your shoulder. You're stubborn, not wanting to face him as he nudges your chin to look up at him. His thumbs brushes underneath your eyes, preventing the tears sliding down your cheeks. 
“You know, you're just stubborn.” he muses amusingly and softly, just like his sound is. “Now I'm going to wipe the mess in the kitchen and will make us some tea.”
You stare at him in disbelief, seeing him taking a few steps away from you. He turns his back to you, ready to walk out. But he stops in his tracks. 
“And Y/N?”
You look at him with watery eyes. 
“Don't think of running away.”
It's a simple sentence, a tiny bit teasing on his part and you barely manage to break a smile. He does not stay for any longer, taking care of the mess in his kitchen just like he said he would.
When you join him, you see him wiping the last remains of your husband's blood before his kitchen is just as new. Yoongi tells you to sit on the couch and turn on a movie. You don't argue even though watching a movie is the last thing on your wishlist. He joins you shortly after. The bundt cake sliced neatly on a plate, accompanied with two cups of tea. He munches on the cake throughout the movie, even offers you to eat but you shake your head at him, declining his offer. 
He manages to eat all the slices, handing you a blanket when he sees you hugging yourself. 
“Yoongi?” you speak silently throughout the movie. 
“Hm?” 
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
The side of your face pressed against the couch, you stare up at him. “For everything.”
“Are you getting sentimental for me?” he muses, turning it into fun and you realize, you prefer it that way. It loosens up the entire moment and situation, even if just a little bit.
“No, just thankful. I know it sounded like I blamed you, it was wrong of me. You were just here and I let my frustration out on you.”
He smiles, shaking his head as if silently telling you to let it go. “I told you I'm not perfect. I am to be blamed for a lot of things. But I don't regret it.”
“Even if your knuckles are cracked?”
A silent laugh comes from the side. “They're not fully cracked but yeah, even then.”
For the first time after the fight, you let a laugh out of yourself as well.
“Come on, you should go to bed. We'll talk about it more tomorrow.”
“Talk about it?” you question, swallowing down a yawn that wants to let out. He's right. You're tired and should go to bed. 
“The clothes, you need to get them. I will go with you.”
You sit up, hair a little bit ruffled which makes Yoongi stifle back a laugh. “You will? You sure?”
“Yeah, I don't mind.” 
He doesn't tell you that he doesn't want you to interact with Yeonseok, just in case he's there. Considering how shaken up you're from their interaction earlier, and yours too, you shouldn't go through that alone. You're pregnant for fuck sake. You've been through a lot while carrying a fucking human inside of you. That shit is mental.
He makes it sound easy, so easy that you just as easily agree and stand up to move to the bedroom. You linger at the edge of the couch, thinking about still having to change your clothes and take a quick shower. 
“It's probably weird, especially after Yeonseok's outburst but you should sleep in the bedroom tonight as well.”
“Don't listen to him,” he says simply, “But are you sure though?”
“Yeah, I don't mind.” you repeat his earlier words, smiling at it which causes him to chuckle at your slight teasing. 
“Fine, my back will thank you tomorrow.”
Laughing, you retrieve to the bedroom to get your sleeping clothes that consist of Yoongi's oversized shirt and a pair of shorts. God, you really need your own clothes.
While you're in the shower, Yoongi lets the movie continue without actually paying any attention to it. His knuckles slightly burn, the skin there trying to heal. A side of his jaw hurts but knowing Yeonseok's in a worse state makes it better. It's a little bit childish, he admits that but that asshole deserved it. He thinks he can just punch him and not expect a punch back? 
His parents would curse the shit out of him. Regardless if Yeonseok was the first one to attack, Yoongi would be painted as the one that's violent because he fought back. Fuck. He can already hear their potential words so clearly.
You shouldn't have fought back.
It's your fault he's angry.
They've always seen him in a bad light. Partly, he doesn't blame them. He's always been more controversial and wild than his brother. The thing is it wasn't accepted in the family and was approached with a massive hit of criticism and negativity. Partly, Yoongi blames them for how he turned out. 
Reaching for his phone, he dials Jimin's number without a second thought. He had enough time to think this through and know that he promised something, he can't change it. He would look like a total asshole. Plus, he doesn't want to change it. Somehow, you've grown to like him. It's embarrassing to admit, but seeing you in such a poor state makes him pity you. You would hate him for these thoughts, that much he knows. 
“Bro, it's like night.” Jimin accepts the call with a scolding tone.
“I need you to take tomorrow's appointments.”
“Why? Are you okay?” he asks immediately, tone changing to a confused one. Yoongi has never canceled any of his appointments. A part of keeping his business good and professional, he always dedicated all of his time there. He's not surprised by Jimin's confusion.
“Yeah, I just have some errands to run and I won't be able to be there for a whole day.” He gives a brief explanation, not giving any details. 
It's not like he doesn't want to share. Even though he's not a sharing type and keeps stuff to himself, he doesn't see any point in sharing a huge portion of your mess that is called life. It just doesn't seem fair at all.
“Dude, everyone's gonna be mad. They want you, you know that!” Jimin argues, panicking which is understandable. 
Yoongi doesn't brag about it, but he knows most clients come to him for their tattoos specifically. Everyone in his team is good, he doesn't doubt it. But even they know how some people come to the studio specifically for Yoongi. 
“I can't reschedule them, I'm fully packed.”
“Duh, I know that! What are you even doing Yoongi?”
“None of your business,” Yoongi answers calmly and casually, causing his friend to groan loudly into the receiver. “Just do it. If they don't wanna get tattooed, just give them back their deposit. Or reschedule their appointments, though they might wait months.”
“This better be worth it.” He hears him mumble.
“It's a family emergency.” It's the only explanation Yoongi offers him.
“Family? You don't care about your family.” Jimin points out the obvious, causing Yoongi to purse his lips slightly offended. 
It's not like he doesn't care about them. Sure, he seems like it but it's not exactly the truth. He doesn't blame Jimin for thinking it though. He made it seem and obvious as if he doesn't care about them. In some fucked up twisted way, he does. 
“Thanks, I owe you.” Yoongi ignores his previous words, not putting them any more attention than he already did by listening to them. 
“You bet…” Jimin mutters under his breath, not having enough time to complain as his kind friend ends the call with that.
Later after he takes a shower while you're already in bed, he joins you. He thinks you're asleep but by the sound of your breathing and fidgeting, you're still awake.
“Can't sleep?”
You flinch a little, probably surprised by his sudden voice and the fact he's aware of you being awake. “It's the baby.”
“Is something wrong?” Yoongi asks right away without thinking of it. He lays back, clearing his throat as he stares at the plain ceiling instead. The entire bedroom is swallowed in darkness, letting only moonlight in. He has noticed you prefer sleeping that way and he doesn't have the heart to close curtains. 
“No,” you giggle, “She's just moving a lot. Sometimes even kicks me.”
“She… she does?” Yoongi asks, unsure. He has zero knowledge about babies. Let alone how it properly works inside a woman's uterus. It's pretty laughable because he's that clueless.
“Yeah, probably won't let me sleep for a while.”
“What a brat.” Yoongi mutters and you gasp, elbowing his side as he cackles at you. 
“You did not just say that,” you exclaim, offended as he continues to laugh silently under his breath. “She's been an active baby lately.” 
You've no idea why you're even telling him that. Something just wants you to fill up the sentence. You and him don't talk about the baby a lot. It seems like a taboo topic for understandable reasons and that's solely for not making it too weird.
Yoongi's quiet and while your eyes have adjusted to the darkness, you can clearly see him fully awake with eyes open, staring thoughtfully at the ceiling. You turn to your side, hissing when you feel a light kick in your ribs coming from inside.
“What are you thinking about?”
He doesn't look like he wants to answer, something holding him back. But then he probably seems awkward enough so he swallows, shrugging.
“My mom always said I moved a lot and shit like that. You know–like when she was pregnant.”
The hint of something that has been secretive but very obvious to you from the start causes your breath to catch in your throat. You've never openly talked about the baby being biologically Yoongi's. It's not something you can forget and despite not talking about it, you've been thinking about it almost all the time.
“Oh…”
“Yeah…” he mutters. “Is that weird shit to say?”
“It's not weird,” you assure him softly. Kind of. “I actually find it interesting. If it… if it was a stranger I probably wouldn't know these things.”
“Forget about it, I was just babbling. It just reminded me of that when you said…”
“It's okay, Yoongi.” You laugh at that, feeling his embarrassment. It's practically seeping from him. “Thank you for that. I mean–I'm grateful for that information. Is that a weird thing to say?”
“No, unless we make it weird.” he states, voice different from the usual laid back Yoongi you know. It's kind of cute.
“Okay, let's not make it weird. Let's talk about something else.”
“Talk? You should sleep.”
“I can't when she's moving around so much.” you argue.
It's silent for a moment.
“Does… does it hurt?”
“Sometimes,” you admit softly, “But not so much yet. It probably will get worse once she's bigger.”
“God, why do women go through that?” he mumbles, causing you to snort.
“If your mother didn't go through that, you wouldn't be here.”
“What a lovely life that would be.” he hums thoughtlessly, while you choke back onto your laughter.
“Don't say that!” you scold him. “None of us have asked to be here.” 
“True.”
Again, a little awkward silence is shared between you. Well, you're not sure it's purely awkward but you're both fully awake, not ready to fall asleep just yet. You don't know about Yoongi but…
You groan when the little baby growing inside you starts to move around again. You caress your stomach, feeling as if she has a hiccup. “I think she has a hiccup.”
He probably doesn't care, but you share that thought out loud. 
“You can feel that?” He sounds confused.
“Yeah,” you nod. “You wanna feel it?”
He stays silent. And for a second, you're sure you've crossed a line and he will just go backwards, distancing from you and the entire situation. 
Indeed, Yoongi feels a little awkward about your question. He has distanced himself, not wanting to admit the fact that you're indeed carrying a baby he helped conceive. It's a weird shit to think about. He can't think about it because it automatically makes him feel uncomfortable. He never had a plan to stay in contact with you. 
He would never imagine sharing a bed with you, unless it was for a sex. And you had lots of it. Maybe not as much as he wanted but still. 
If he knew you would be laying in his bed pregnant, he would probably never agree to this. As bad as it sounds. 
This scares him.
But then he thinks of you and your perspective. He has no idea what your thoughts are, well some of them. But something about your innocent and sweet tone makes him rethink. You're here, after an awful day, not crying like he has expected you to do. He sees the light in your tone, one that's caused by the baby growing inside you. You're trying to be friendly, having just as friendly a conversation and Yoongi realizes – he's that for you. 
A friend. 
You need a friend. You've no one else to talk about it, not currently at least. You've distanced yourself from everyone else for understandable reasons, and he can relate to that.
“Won't that be awkward?” he questions. 
“Not unless you make it to be.” you hit him back with his own words, the fact causing his mouth to twitch. 
“Okay, sure. It's a one time experience anyway.”
You snort, “You make it sound as if you won't ever meet a pregnant lady.”
“I've met a few but never had an urge to touch their belly. That shit's weird.”
Giggling, you shake your head at him. “Maybe in the future, you will.”
“Future?” he asks, completely confused. 
“Maybe if you're gonna have a wife or a girlfriend.” you say, slightly unsure of this topic. Is it okay for you to talk about this? Either way, it's too late to not answer his question anyway. 
After all, this specific topic shouldn't be weird.
“I don't want kids,” he informs you, carefully but sternly at the same time. “So that's not happening.”
Sighing, you don't argue about that. If he accidentally gets someone pregnant, he won't be able to control that aspect but you don't remind him of that. He seems stubborn and determined about this opinion of his. And you respect it.
It's silly and you shouldn't have the right to feel this way, but you feel slightly saddened that he's so keen on telling you he doesn't want kids. Even though you've known that for a long time. It's a reminder that he does not want to have anything to do with the baby inside you. It's nothing new but somehow that thought still doesn't sit with you well. 
Instead, you swallow all those feelings and take the duvet off your body. 
“Whatever,” you murmur nonchalantly. “Give me your hand.”
He does, without question. You try not to think about how warm and big his hand feels. You ignore the little fluttering butterflies that set in the pit of your stomach and inside your chest. Your baby is not to be blamed for. 
You move his hand on your stomach but not before pulling up your shirt. You're starting to feel too warm anyway. This way he'll be able to tell the movements more clearly. 
“You feel it?” you ask, holding his hand as soon as it's placed over your swollen stomach.
“No? I ain't feel shit.”
You giggle, “You're an ass.” 
But then, a sudden kick is sent next to Yoongi's hand. It wasn't a direct move under his palm but he had to feel it regardless. A surprised Oh makes it out of his mouth.
“That's so weird,” he mumbles thoughtfully. 
Then she continues again, her little movements more recognizable and becoming slowly familiar to the man laying next to you. 
“She's so active.”
“She is,” you hum, slowly letting go of his hands. He lets it rest there for a moment, taking the cue as he pulls it away slowly. “Could let me sleep now though.” You try to play it cool and calm down your racing heart. 
Pulling the shirt back down and covering yourself with the duvet, you're trying to act cool like before. 
“Wow,” Yoongi says, taken back. “It's weird to think there's another person inside you.”
“Tell me something about it,” you chuckle. “I've wanted to get pregnant for a long time. But nothing could've prepared me for the way it feels. It's weird, I can't describe it.”
He surely can't understand what you're talking about. You don't want him to. You just let your thoughts run free. Some part of you wants to confess those thoughts to Yoongi. Another weird thing to say, but he's like a safe place in a twisted way. You can be honest, even though you're slightly sheepish about it. You can confide in him.
You think he has no idea what he means to you. And even if it's just for a certain time being, you're grateful for it regardless. 
Before you know it, the movements stop and you're finally allowed the tiredness to come in. You slowly drift to sleep, clueless to Yoongi being fully awake as he stares at the ceiling with the weirdest feeling all over his body. 
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It's not as if morning is any better. Surprisingly, you haven't had that much trouble sleeping and you barely woke up. Yeonseok hasn't haunted you in your dreams either, which made it more enjoyable and comfortable. You were too exhausted last night, so a good sleep made it better for you to see today's morning in a better light. 
Yoongi's still asleep, his alarm hasn't ringed yet and you wondered if you should wake him up. Maybe he forgot to set up his alarm, but something tells you that's very unlikely. 
After you've washed your face and teeth, you decided to give him a few minutes and will try to wake him in case he has really slept in. However, the aftermath of yesterday's events and your good sleep, a cause of your positivism, doesn't last too long when your phone rings. 
At first, you don't think much of it. Your father calls you from time to time, he has to when you suddenly go silent. Using busyness as a great excuse when you've been anything but that. He doesn't know that which makes the lie more believable. 
As you get to hear his raspy voice again, you expect him to start the same way.
How are you? 
Why haven't you called?
But none of that comes as he sounds nothing but concerned, even a little skeptic.
“Y/N, is everything okay with you?”
That alone should alarm you and it does, but you remain cool and voice your confusion. “Yes? Why wouldn't I be?”
“Don't lie. What's happening there?”
He doesn't sound upset, he sounds more worried than anything else. “What do you mean? I'm fine.”
“Really? Because Yeonseok called us yesterday, well today, he kept saying something about you sleeping with his brother?”
You freeze, shame washing over you like the coldest bucket of ice.
“Is that true?”
“Dad, I promise you–It's nothing like that.” 
Perfect. Thanks Yeonseok a lot.
“He was also wasted, could barely talk. Called us like two in the morning.”
Sighing, you sit down as you grip your phone tighter. It seems like you can't have a rest for at least one day. Everything keeps biting you in your ass when you think things are getting better. It fucking sucks. 
“We're going through a rough patch right now.”
“And you broke up with him?”
“I–technically yes but it wasn't like that. I promise you, it's nothing like that.” you telling, aiming at Yeonseok's accusation that might not be a complete lie but you know how it sounds. 
“Then how is it?”
“Dad, I really don't want to talk about it. I'm sorry Yeonseok woke you and Barbara,” you say, mentioning his longtime girlfriend who's like your step-mom. You know she's just as worried. You're surprised she's not the one that called. “He has a hard time dealing with our break-up.”
“He said you're staying at his brother's, is that true?”
One thing about your father is that he never really got into your business. If he was curious or even nosy, he never let it known because he respected everyone's space and privacy. So to have him question you like this means he's truly worried and the call he received from your still husband has made him alarmed. 
“Yes–”
“So it's true? Y/N, have you cheated on him?”
“God, no!” You exclaim loudly, taking a deep breath as you release it in a form of loud sigh. Technically you haven't. “I haven't cheated on anyone. Look, it's really complicated. I had nowhere else to go.”
“Nowhere else to go? You could've come here.”
You sigh, rubbing your tired eyes. “I know but I didn't wanna bother you with our issues. Yoongi is familiar with it, so I just decided to come here. It's just for a few nights, I will figure it out. Don't worry.”
“How can I not worry when I found out from my son-in-law that you're not living at home? And that you live with his brother instead?”
“He's not exactly the perfect husband you have him for, dad.”
“What do you mean by that? Did he hurt you?”
“Not like that,” You shake your head. “I had a share on it too. None of us are innocent. Look, all you have to know for now is that I'm okay. I need to figure this out on my own. You've nothing to worry about.”
“You can't just tell me you live somewhere else with Yeonseok's brother, and tell me not to worry!”
“Listen, dad. I love you but I'm very close to hanging up. I understand you're worried but you're not exactly helping me with freaking out. I told you I'm fine, so please trust your daughter instead. I'll handle it and I'll talk about it when I'm ready.”
Well, you're not sure if you should tell him the entire truth. The thought of that is embarrassing and completely uncomfortable. You're not going to tell your dad that you've slept with another man just to get pregnant. Even if Yeonseok agreed to it. 
Overall, you would spare him the details. 
“But you're pregnant. You're carrying his child. You can't just leave and not talk to him.”
“Oh, I talked to him. He's not as interested in being a father as he was.”
“What?!” He yells into the phone, causing you to cringe at his shocked and upset tone. “He said that?!”
“Along the lines,” you mumble, “Don't worry, I'm doing fine. So is your granddaughter.” 
“G-granddaughter?”
That finally gets his mind off Yeonseok. “Yes. I had it confirmed yesterday.”
He sighs, chuckling on the other line. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you.”
“Y/N–”
“Dad–please.” 
He sighs in defeat. “Okay. But promise me you'll call if you need something.”
“I always will, dad. Please don't worry.”
Eventually, you end the call. Just as your phone is being tossed onto the counter, Yoongi sleepily steps into the kitchen with bed hair and narrowed eyes. “Why were you yelling?”
“It's nothing.”
“Y/N…” Yoongi warns, narrowing his eyes through his tiredness.
“It was my dad. Yeonseok called him drunk last night.”
“Fuck,” That has him waking up as he stares you down. “What did he say?”
“That I cheated and I'm staying at your place.”
“What did you tell him?”
“Not much,” you admit, “I don't want him to worry.”
“He's a fucking idiot.”
“Yoongi…”
“No, he is.” He insists, rubbing his chest tiredly as anger twists his puffy face. He looks cute, even with the tattooed sleeve that's on full display. 
“He was drunk,” you point out. “Surely angry and upset.”
“I'm surprised he didn't run to mommy and daddy.”
“Shit,” you exclaim. “What if he did?”
“Would it matter?” Yoongi questions.
You stare at him as if he grew two heads. “Of course! What would they think of me?”
“You really care about that?”
“If he told them the story that I cheated on him with you, I do care!”
Yoongi sighs, leaning against the door frame with arms crossed over his chest. “We know it's not the truth. Not exactly. And we will explain that to them if it ever came down to it.”
“You make it sound so easy.”
“Because it is,” he argues. “And there's no need for you to worry about it too much, alright?”
You give him Really? Look.
“If he called your dad, I really doubt he got our parents involved. Knowing them, they would call or barge in here right away.”
“You think?”
“Oh, I know.” he hums. “So don't worry and get yourself ready.”
That's right. You're supposed to get your clothes today. But you thought it'll be later on, probably when he gets back from work or over his lunchtime. You just need to get your things. It shouldn't take too long. 
“Are you not going to work today?”
“No, I have a day off.”
“Really? You never mentioned anything about having a day off.” you wonder, staring at him straightening himself as he stretches his arms, shrugging.
“Didn't think it's important.”
“Okay,” you sigh. “What if he's there?”
Yoongi watches you for a moment, “That's why I'm going with you.”
“I think that will piss him even more if he sees you there.”
“Should I not come?”
You shake your head, “That's not what I meant. I just–I don't know what's right or not anymore.”
“It's true, maybe he wouldn't get so angry but there's no guarantee he won't get verbal again. I just don't think you should go through that alone.”
Something about his words make your chest warm, an appreciative smile beaming on your lips but you shake yourself out of it as a smirk replaces it. “Are you starting to care about me?”
What you get in return is a mixture of a chuckle and smirk. “I'm serious, Y/N,” he says, more seriously. “I'm going just in case he needs another punch.”
“Please, don't say that.” Your smile drops. 
“I can't promise anything but I'll try to be on my best behavior.”
“Somehow, that doesn't go along with you.” you tell him with suspicious eyes as he smirks. 
“You're gonna have to wait and see.”
“No fights.” you warn him, lifting up your finger at him to make yourself clear. 
“Okay, mom.”
“Ew.” you cringe, walking past him but not before slapping his chest. “Keep it down.”
“Yes, ma'am.”
You walk back into the bedroom, to change your clothes and get yourself ready with an unbelievable smile on your face. You fight the sheets neat and made, a fresh air filling the bedroom that has become too familiar to you. 
With a lighter feeling in your chest, you prepare yourself for what's about to come.
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webslingingslasher · 25 days
Note
I'm dying for there to be a fic where the reader is Stark's daughter and tells Peter that he has to watch her, Peter does it and the more he does it the more they connect the two and end up dating in secret, but one day reader discovers it and then angs to fluff??? Would you do it, i love how you write yes and thank you
*cleaning out my inbox/drafts* this is an old one but i loved it so much mcu peter HAD to make a comeback for this. // a little different than what you asked.
--
you're livid and peter's scared.
your dad had shared a new piece of information in passing but it brought everything crumbling down. peter, your boyfriend, wasn't who you thought he was.
the person you thought was honest and gentle was really just a lying snake. he can wear manipulation well. even now, with wide eyes and a panicked grin you can't picture him hurting you like this. but you can feel it.
'hi, baby.' he knows you're mad, he's trying to approach this calmly.
'you're a fucking liar.' you just brought everything down to a negative level, peter feels his shoulders slump. he doesn't know what he did or how he lied. 'i'm sorry.' whatever he did caused venom to be directed his way and he doesn't like it at all.
'no you're not. you're a filthy, lying scumbag.' he's not trying to invalidate your feelings, but you're being really fucking mean to him and he really doesn't like this treatment from you. he's never been so hurt in his life, the person he loved with everything in him, can't get enough insults out their mouth.
'why are you talking to me like this?' he sounds pitiful and for a moment your heart breaks for him, you know how much you're hurting him right now but he broke your trust.
'my dad told me. i can't believe i fell for your bullshit, or was it all him? you're just some little drone for my daddy?' it was a blur of sarcasm and betrayal, and peter truly has no idea what he's done.
'what did i do? please tell me what i did.' he's pleading, he'd do anything to make it right. you scoff, everything seems so fake.
'my dad planted you into my life and you wormed your way into being my boyfriend.'
peter freezes, his stiff shoulders are your answer. 'it's true?' your voice cracked, the deception has your insides curling. you thought peter would deny it and kiss you a hundred times and tell you he wasn't that type of guy.
but he is and he did it.
'peter, it's true?' why do you want to cry? you were the one that was swindled. it hurts because you trusted him, it hurts because you thought he loved you just as much as you did him.
there's a new feeling, it's rage. you shared so much of yourself with him for nothing, you wasted time on him. you move on your own accord and you push your weight into his shoulders, trying to throw him back, it's useless. he doesn't even budge, but he still lets you try with everything in you.
'you're piece of shit! i... i fucking hate you!' the word has tears pricking your eyes. peter felt his entire heart shatter, he thinks you just told him the worst thing he's ever heard.
'i fucking loved you, peter. you were my everything. i loved you with everything in me, and it was all built on a giant lie. why would you do that to me?'
loved, loved, loved, loved.
peter goes numb, there's nothing to fight for, you didn't love him anymore. you push on his chest, he feels nothing, he moves with your motion. 'fucking say something!'
he blinks, he says the first thing on his mind. the only thing on his mind. 'i love you.' it enrages you even further, does he think it's a joke? 'fuck you, peter.' and with that, you turn to leave his room, his house, him.
peter might've messed up but he can't let you leave without trying to save this. he knows he fucked up. 'wait! don't leave yet, just let me explain it, okay? then you can go back to hating me.' the ending sentence felt like battery acid on his tongue.
you stand still. you’ve been hurt by him but you still love him no matter what you say, and that feels like a kick in the chest to yourself. if he can, you'll let him try and dig himself out of this hole.
'this, what we have, it's real. everything i did as your boyfriend was real. i love you with everything in me, you know i do.' you don't look like you believe it, it looks like you think he's just telling you what you want to hear.
'your dad...' peter doesn't know how he got here, he didn't expect it all to come out. 'look, i've always liked you, okay? you know that, we've talked about how when i first met you i was head over heels for you. your dad knew that too and he hated it. but then you were all sad about your friend so he suggested i just... befriend you.'
'suggested or told?' peter swallows hard, this is tricky even for him. 'i don't know. i just had the opportunity to talk to you and i took it. all your dad did was give me an in, that's it. everything else was all me, i promise.'
you sigh heavily, it sounds like something your dad would do. 'then why wouldn't you tell me this when we started dating?' peter gestures to you and all your fury. 'i didn't want this to happen. i didn't want you to doubt me. us. i didn't want you to doubt us.'
'so he told you to be my friend. nothing else?' peter winces, there's more to it and you're not sure if you want to hear it. 'okay, maybe he said to keep an eye out for you.' your face drops, peter's quick to keep talking. 'but i heard that as befriend! how could i keep you safe if we're not friends, right?'
it's not working, you seem more sad than mad now and peter prefers your anger. 'and when he saw how happy you were with me it changed and he gave me the go ahead to ask you out.' you'll bite your tongue on that one, you know it's because peter's a stickler for a father's blessing.
'when did he back out of the picture, peter?' the question un-eases him, and you have a feeling you know why. you pray it's not what you think, but it is.
'a couple months into dating.' peter jumps to continue, 'he never told me to date you, he just said it was a good thing and he was happy i was keeping you busy and making you happy. he gave me a little money for dates, but that's it, i swear.'
peter was taking money from him?
'so, while i was falling in love with you, my dad was paying you off? nice, peter. that's a real nice guy act.'
peter knows how it sounds, that's why he felt like he couldn't spit it out. the more time went on, the less he felt the need to share. 'that's not what it was, all he wanted was for me to be your friend, i promise. i'm the one that went a step further, i'm the one that wanted to be your boyfriend.'
you roll your eyes, how dumb does he think you are? 'of course you wanted to be my boyfriend, you were getting paid.' you couldn't be further from the truth, peter felt bad taking his money but it was to keep you happy and that's all he ever wanted to do.
he's failing pretty hard right now.
'no, that's not what it was. i was the one that planned everything, everything we built was because of me.'
'right. and he was just sponsoring it?'
peter's never fought harder for anything in his life. you were on the line. 'he pulled out when it started to get real. he said it was on me to take care of you and i did. i have been. i'm not lying, your dad might have put you into my life but every single part of me loving you was real and all me.'
you want to believe him. you want him to be telling the truth. and maybe if it all started because your dad wanted him to look out for you, you could look past it. but for him to double down and start taking money when you were calling him boyfriend makes you feel sick.
peter knows it's not working. 'baby, please-' you cut him off, 'don't you dare call me that, we're done. it's over. hope it was worth it.'
panic fills him, he suddenly feels hot. for a second peter sees black dots, he swears he's about to pass out. 'no, no, no. don't do this, don't do this to me.'
how did peter go from trying to salvage it to ruining it beyond repair?
your arms cross over your chest, it's a way to guard your hurting heart. it's not fair. you gave him so much of yourself just to learn it was all built on a lie, you can't choose between breaking out into a sob or wanting to punch his face.
'i really loved you, peter.'
'you still do. i know you do. you can't just stop loving me out of nowhere. i know i hurt you and i know i broke your trust but you can't stop loving me.'
you feel empty inside. peter was right, he hurt you. he hurt you big time. 'i'm going to try.' you can see how wet his eyes are, if he drops a single tear you'll go back on every word of yours. you have to leave and stand up for yourself because if you don't it'll be proof that he can treat you however he wants.
'please don't do this. i'll do anything, i'll... i'll...' he's drawing blanks, for the first time ever peter doesn't know how to fix anything. 'please don't leave me. i'll be better, i'll be who you need. i love you so much, please don't do this to me.' peter's grasping at straws and you feel your chest rattle when you tell him you're leaving.
peter drops to his knees, he's begging. 'i'm sorry, i'm so so sorry. i should've told you when we first started dating- no! i should've never done it, i should've told your dad to... to fuck off and, and, i'm so sorry! please don't break up with me, please.'
you've lost all edge, you feel just as broken.
'goodbye, peter.'
----
it's been three days of reckoning and you're in a terrible mood. the blame has shifted, after you dumped peter and returned home to your bed you thought long and hard about it and realized that peter would've never done it if your dad didn't get involved.
if your dad didn't drop peter in as an informant, you wouldn't be here. if your dad didn't tell peter to buddy up with you, he'd still be your boyfriend.
you don't hate peter anymore, you're just sad. instead, you hate your dad. you hate how he ruined everything you had and ruined all your trust in him. you've refused to speak to him for three days, this morning he had enough of it when you slammed your door in his face.
he promptly allowed himself in and looked around your disheveled room, he knows something's wrong. 'woah. easy on, teen angst. talk to your dad, what's going on?'
you pretend he's not in the room with you. 'is something wrong? do you want me to call your boyfriend?' of course he wants peter over, he wants him to spy on you so your dad can corner him and sweat him out until peter spills.
you know how peter is and your dad took advantage of that.
'i broke up with peter. leave me alone.' there's a ring of silence, your dad is in shock. it would explain the sudden excuses on why peter can't come over, it would also explain your sour attitude.
'why would you do that?' because of him. because your dad had to get involved in your love life. 'because of you. you planted him in my life and paid him off to date me. i hate you.'
'is that what he told you?'
you don't know why you're talking to him. 'basically.' your dad sighs and sits on the edge of your bed, you resist the burning urge to kick his back.
'is this about what i said the other day? honey, i didn't ask him to date you and i didn't pay him off. i paid him when he helped me redo the lab. he must've gotten confused on the reasoning.'
you think about it. the lab was renovated right around the time you started dating and was finished right around when you became official. and peter did the brunt of heavy lifting and furniture shifting. he even had to reschedule a date because he was going to stay up all night to wrap up all the cords and label them to keep track.
'and for what it's worth, the kid's always liked you. i saw it on his face the second you shook his hand and i told him absolutely not. but the more i thought about it the more i thought why not?'
you're not saying anything but you're holding on to every word he says. 'i got tired of you moping around the place because of that brat you called a friend so i suggested he keep an eye out for you and be a friend if you needed one. honey, i knew what i was doing. i knew what was going to happen.'
peter left a lot of this out. a lot.
'he said you told him it was his job to take care of me now.' your dad laughs. 'yeah, i did. when he came to me shaking and halfway begging to let him be your boyfriend, i told him that he would have to grow a pair and take care of you.'
your dad turns and gives you a light smile, he pats your leg over the blanket. 'i don't think any part of it was a lie, kiddo. i just gave him the greenlight to do what he wanted to do the second he met you.'
tears sting your eyes, you think about how crushed peter looked. you imagine the tear in his heart was far greater than yours. you heard something and made your own assumption and peter can't back himself to save his life so you walked away from it entirely.
you were so mean to him. you belittled him and did the worst possible thing you could do. you told him you hated him. you blink fast to clear your eyes, tears start falling instead. you've been so mad you haven't been able to process what you did but it's hitting now and you feel broken.
'i told him i hated him. i've never said that to him, he was so sad. i was so mean to him, dad. i was calling him names and...' your breath catches, you feel like your throat’s closing up. 'i think i broke his heart.'
you curl up, you want to be left alone, you want to punish yourself. instead your dad tells you to 'get your sorry ass up and go apologize to your boyfriend.' it's a very short pity party.
---
you rushed his front door. you felt like the longer you waited the closer your window closed. you stupidly blocked his number so now you're unaware if he's tried to reach out at all. you're knocking so hard your knuckles hurt.
'oh my good-' you push past may. it's incredibly rude and you'll have to add her to your apology train but the first and most important stop is peter.
'where's-'
peter steps out from his room, he looks at you cautiously and doesn't get halfway through your name before you're running to him and wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing yourself against him. it's a full bodied hug.
'i'm so sorry and i love you. i love you so so much, i love everything about you. i love your voice in the morning, i love how you always give me an extra kiss at night to repel bed bug bites, i love how you never give me shit when i don't bring a jacket to the movies even though i'm gonna steal yours because i always get cold. i love how you always make me a bowl of cereal after we-'
'may.'
'-watch a movie. i love how you grew your hair out because i asked you. i love how you always ask to kiss me first. i love how you love me.' you squeeze him tighter.
'i told you i hated you and that couldn't be further from the truth. i love you so much and i was so mean to you and i just don't want you to think i hate you. i could never hate you, peter. i should've never said that, i can love you and be mad at you at the same time.'
peter quietly shushes you, it settles the bubble of anxiety in your chest. he's calming you down, he's doing what he always does when you're inches away from a panic attack. peter gently pulls at your hands around his neck to move them to his waist, it's instantly more comfortable, you're able to bury yourself into him.
'i don't want to be broken up anymore.' your voice cracks, you don't know what you'll do if he says no. you're spiraling, the consequences of your actions are falling into place. you're going to lose him.
peter pulls you back into reality. he always knows when you're too far gone, you can't imagine life without him anymore. 'calm down for a second, okay? i'm not going anywhere. i'm right here.' he turns his head back to his room, may's doing that thing where she pretends she doesn't see or hear what's going on but she's actually holding on to every word.
'wanna go lay down?' you nod fast and pull away to tug him into his own room, peter swears he sees a frown on his aunt's face. the second he shuts his door you start in on round two, you stop when he cups your face and softly shushes you again.
'please stop panicking.'
'i'll panic until you take me back. i should've never broken up with you, peter. i was yelling at my dad and then he told me what actually happened and we were both wrong and now you hate me.'
peter's eyes are shining, he's getting a little amusement from your distress and you allow it. it's the least you could give him after breaking him down into nothing.
'i told you to stop blocking me when you get mad at me.' you want to hit yourself in the face, you knew you missed out on something. 'never again, i promise. i can't do this again, peter. if i'm about to have a panic attack over something that's a non-issue i'll hate myself forever.'
'you really want to hate someone, don't you?' you seal your mouth closed. he's right, you've been saying it too much. even if he said it with a tilt in his voice you take it seriously.
'since someone is a little reactionary, i'll show you my phone.' peter paws at his back pocket before you have his phone in your hands, sure enough there's five missed messages.
the first one was an hour after you dumped him.
'upon further consideration, i reject our break up. you promised me that you'd never break up with me in the heat of an argument. not after the charity auction thing.'
'therefore, we are not broken up until you come over and do it at a later time.'
'love- your boyfriend <3'
'ps. even though you blocked me, i know you don't hate me.'
'you're just mad and you're soooo gonna regret that later.'
peter's right, you do regret it. your eyes are glossy when you reread the texts over and over, even at your worst he loves you. 'so, you're still my boyfriend?'
soft pokes are placed at your sides, you squirm with his touch. 'duh. i just stayed away until you figured it out.' you pout at him, your attack deemed unjustified.
'he wasn't paying you to take me on dates. he was paying you for renovating the lab. that's why the payments stopped after we started dating.'
peter never took money from your dad and your dad never employed peter. he nods slowly. 'oh, yeah, that would make a lot of sense.' you reach forward for another hug and speak into his chest.
'i'm sorry for being mean and trying to break up with you.'
'it's okay, baby.' you melt at a kiss on your hairline. 'you didn't mean it.'
'i promise i didn't.' you feel like a dog with a tail between their legs, there's not enough ways to say how sorry you are. 'i love you, petey.'
another kiss. 'i love you, too.'
he feels so warm, he feels like home. for the first time in three days you feel comfortable, you press into your boyfriend and he doesn't budge. you love how sturdy he is, you love how you can nearly hurt him with your love.
you squeeze him hard, using all your force and almost shaking you're holding him to you so tightly. when you start limiting his breathing, peter pushes down on your elbows.
'you're about to cuteness aggression me to death.'
'i love you.' you can't say it enough.
peter laughs, 'i love you.'
'no,' you peer up at him, it's been days since you kissed him. 'i really love you.' it's whispered, peter's lips twitch at your blown pupils. you almost purr when he cups your face. 'i know you do.'
peter knows that look. he's the one that created it. 'do you want me to-'
'yes.' you waste no time, pushing up and attacking his mouth with your own. you don't know why it's so harsh, you don't know why you're desperate to swallow him and show him how much you missed him, how much you need him. you want to prove how sorry you are.
'lock your door.' peter's eyes sparkle, that means one thing. he takes off so fast his socks slip on his floor and he catches himself on the wall, his lock flicked in seconds.
peter tugs at the back of his shirt, 'naked kisses?' you bite your lip and nod, 'i could go for a bowl of cereal.' 
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dreamescapeswriting · 8 months
Text
Best Kind Of Aftercare ~ BC
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WORD COUNT: 1.5k
PAIRING: Chan x Fem!Reader
GENRE: established relationships, punishments, bdsm relationshio, soft dom Chan, aftercare, looking after reader whos crying, soft chan
⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - August 2023
⤜MASTERLIST
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The cuffs weren't too tight on you, they never were, Chan always made sure that you were okay before he went ahead with any kind of punishment that he gave to you and tonight was no different. Well, maybe a little.
You'd pushed him a little too far this time with what you'd been doing and now you were having to pay the consequences of your actions. 
"I said I was sorry." You whined out a little, struggling against the cuffs before realising you couldn't do anything with them. The only way out of this was going to be your safe word and you weren't going to use it, not when you still felt completely safe and happy with how things were going. 
"You disobeyed me, again." He growled out, his hand rubbing over your bare ass cheek before roughly slapping down against your skin filling the quiet room with a loud slapping sound and causing you to hiss out. 
"What happens to girls who disobey?" He questioned, your eyes trained on him as you followed him around the bedroom, he was naked and still hard as a rock - no thanks to you. All you'd done was pull away from him whenever he was about to cum, edging him so to speak. It was something you really enjoyed doing to Chan since it would always send him wild for you. It wasn't something you did often but you knew it was one of the things that would wind Chan up so much it would result in a punishment or in him pinning you down so he could finally finish - either way you adored the outcome.
"They get punished," You did your best to hide the smirk that was playing on your lips, if Chan knew you were enjoying this punishment then he would change it and you didn't want that. Spanking was your favourite form of being punished and you weren't about to let him change it out on you, 
"Good," He reached into the small wardrobe where you kept your toys and you kept your eyes on him, waiting to see the black riding crop the two of you would use when it came to spanking but instead your eyes widened a fraction.
"Don't look so scared now, you were the one who pushed me too far." He chuckled darkly. The previous weekend the two of you had taken a trip into the city and stumbled upon a new toy shop, you found a whole new set of toys you wanted to play with and it just so happened Chan found the perfect opportunity to use his. It was a black flogger that had come in a complete bondage set - the same one that the black cuffs you were currently sporting came from as well.
"A flogger?" You sounded nervous and that was because you were, spanking you'd done almost a million times - maybe that was dramatic - but still. You'd spanked with a paddle before, his hand and a riding crop but never a flogger, the two of you had mentioned it once or twice. It wasn't that you didn't trust Chan with it, it was just it had so many more ways to hit someone's ass than a typical spanking toy and you were a little anxious about it.
"We can try it and if you don't like it, we'll stop," Chan was never going to force you into doing something you weren't comfortable with and you knew if you said no right now all of this would stop and go away but a part of you wanted this. 
"I'm ready." You nodded moving toward the end of the bed and arching your back ever so slightly so that your ass was in the car, Chan's eyes finding yours as a smirk took over his lips.
"We're going to count to ten," He told you as he gently ran his hand over your asscheek before lifting the flogger into the air. The anticipation inside of your stomach was beginning to make you feel a little sick but you braced yourself for this, you could do this. Spanking was something you'd always found enjoyable and you saw no reason for it to change now. 
The first time it came into contact with your skin wasn't so bad but you'd whimpered, pulling against the cuffs on your hands and letting out a strangle whine.
"Fuck," You whispered into the sheets, It was hurting a lot more than you thought it was going to but you wanted to keep going.
"Count," Chan ordered in a deeper tone of voice, your head spinning at just how hot he sounded. 
"One," You mumbled, looking over your shoulder at him and watching as he brought the flogger down harder and faster this time. Hot tears sprang to your eyes and you felt them rolling down your face,
"I said count!" He yelled out rather harshly, you took in a deep breath and whimpered as you tried to get your mind to focus on the task at hand. 
"Two!" This time when Chan raised the flogger you thrashed around and moved away from him,
"DON'T! PLEASE! PLEASE DON'T!" You screamed out trying to move around on the bed but panic began to set in as you realised you were trapped right now and had no chance of getting away from him,
"RED!" You added on, whimpering over and over again. As soon as the safe word reached his ears the flogger was dropped onto the floor and the cuffs were released using their emergency release. You scrambled away from Chan, curling up into yourself at the head of the bed as he watched you closely. 
"Deep breaths baby," He whispered to you, showing you his deep breathing so that you would follow along with him. Your eyes found his as you tried to focus on him being there with you, he wasn't the dominant CHan anymore he was the soft and gentle dom with you,
"I'll grab the creams, you going to be okay?" He questioned as you quickly nodded your head at him and watched as he left the room to go into the bathroom. Your heart was racing as you tried to do your deep breathing, your eyes slowly shutting as you pulled the silk sheets up and around your body.
When Chan returned he found you lying on your stomach, tears rolling down your cheeks as he slowly sank down onto the bed beside you.
"Do you want me to apply the cream?" You already knew which cream he was talking about You nodded, not being able to bring yourself to actually speak just yet. You didn't trust yourself not to start sobbing, 
"I'm going to touch you now," He whispered, wanting you to know everything he was going to do before he did it so as to not scare you in any way. The cream he was using was something you used after every spanking session, it was a cocoa cream and some aloe vera to help try and reduce any swelling that was going to happen.
"Ice packs?" You stuttered out when you noticed them sitting beside his lap on the bed.
"I was reading they can be good after using a flogger." He looked at you with a sad smile and he went back to carefully massaging in the cream before placing the ice packs onto each of your cheeks causing you to hiss out.
"I'm so sorry Yn." He whispered as he lay beside you, your eyebrows forming a frown as you stared at him. Why was he sorry? You were the one that felt sorry since you hadn't managed to make it through the punishment?
"Why? I should be sorry, I couldn't do it for you." You looked down at your hands but Chan instantly took your face into his hands and turned your head to look at him.
"You have NOTHING to be sorry for," He told you as he continued to hold onto you, shaking his head. 
"You should never feel sorry for not being able to do something. You tried, you didn't like it and that's fine. Please don't be sorry," He begged you, kissing your cheek softly as tears continued to roll down your cheeks,
"I shouldn't have sprung this on you, I should have spoken to you more about it and waited until we were both ready." You nodded at him with agreement and he smiled weakly, 
"Stay with the ice, I'll run you a cool bath and we can spend the night doing whatever you want?" He suggested making you smile weakly and nodding at him. Chan was a hard dom when the time called for it but he was also a soft dom with the best kind of aftercare that there was for you. It was specialised for the two of you since it wasn't just the one being punished that needed aftercare sometimes.
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Tagline: @chiisaiblog @hanasonmi @sw33tnight @taestannie @acciocriativity @scarletemeterio @halesandy @laylasbunbunny @critssq @lenfilms @btsiguess-kpop @djeniryuu @backintomykpopphaseagain @choisoorin
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rosewritingprompts · 11 months
Text
30 Color Prompts
Red 1. "You're bleeding." 2. "I'm so fucking pissed." 3. "They're so hot." 4. "Don't come any closer." 5. "I want you to kiss me right now."
Orange 1. "Here, I brought you juice." 2. "You're so brave." 3. "I can't wait." 4. "Don't look down." 5. "Please, stop."
Yellow 1. "I can't believe I just did that." 2. "I can't breathe." 3. "Do you see the way out?" 4. "I think I broke my leg." 5. "I can't move."
Green 1. "I feel like I'm going to throw up." 2. "You're safe here, I promise." 3. "Is this okay?" 4. "They can't look at you like that." 5. "I trust you with my life.
Blue 1. "Why are you crying?" 2. "I'm sorry for everything." 3. "Did you take your medication?" 4. "Will you hold my hand?" 5. "I don't know why I feel like this."
Purple 1. "You know you're my best friend, right?" 2. "I'm so alone, all the time. 3. "I don't know how to repay you." 4. "I've never met anyone like you." 5. "Will you sing for me?"
If you enjoyed these, please consider leaving me a tip!
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Note
heyy congrats on 350+ followers (assuming im not too late? haha) i ADORE your hcss omll they make me giggle and kick my feet at 3:00 AM (they also help me sleep at night lol). if its not too much to ask could you do hcs abt Jason Grace x gf!reader in an argument + making up?
✮⋆˙ we do not go to bed angry in this house; jason grace argument blurb
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content: jason x fem! reader argument blurb warning: fighting but resolved with fluff author's note: see im not the only one who wants jason angst but this one ends happy, trust!! i love love the aesthetics for this one but the fight is weak but the child of divorce in me would rather die than write a different kind of fight, ya know???
"ha! that's a joke, right? please, you're not that stupid, jason," you hissed at the boy, slamming the door shut behind you as you guys walked into your shared apartment. you guys had thought it would be fun to go out with friends, hang out and play some pool. all good, right? yeah, it was fine, until this girl just walked up to jason, dragging him away and chatting him up for the whole night. and despite you trying to free him from her grasp, he stayed, even shooing you away at certain points. so, yeah, you were a tad bit mad. okay, you were pissed.
"y/n, i don't understand what the big deal is! we were just talking and you could see me the whole night!" jason insisted, tugging his jacket off and throwing it onto the couch with a sigh. you'd been having the same fight the whole ride home and he was just done talking about it.
"the big deal is that you allowed her to occupy your space! hell, you even wanted her around. jason, do you really not see how that looks to me?" you asked, your chest nearly heaving as you begged him to understand. jason just turned his back, his hands gripping the kitchen counter.
"i wouldn't do that," he hissed out and you squeezed your eyes shut, holding in a sigh. you knew cheating was a sore spot for him, what with his dad and all.
"that's not-"
"it is, though. why else would you care? you know i wouldn't do that, of all things."
"jason, just listen-"
"y/n, i can't when you-"
"jason, that's not fair-"
"we're done for tonight. im sleeping on the couch," jason boomed, slapping a hand against the counter. silence fell over the apartment for the first time since you entered. jason turned to look at you but you put your back to him, a clear sign that you were on the verge of crying.
"i'm sorry i raised my voice," he whispered, taking a hesitant step towards you but you just moved further away.
"go get your clothes so i can go to bed, grace," you muttered, refusing to look at him. you heard a small sigh leave jason's nose before he walked into your shared bedroom - except for, tonight, i'd be your room.
jason took up post on the couch but everything felt wrong. no matter what way he twisted and turned and fluffed his pillow and adjusted his blanket, sleep continued to allude him. he flopped onto his back and stared up at the roof, wishing he'd just heard you out. just let you explain it all and so he could understand and fix all of this. becuase he was quickly realizing the reason he was struggling to sleep was because he missed you. even the things he'd typically complain about; your breathing in his ear, the confusion of your legs tangled up with his, the way you were always freezing in bed. and he was missing it.
and then he heard the bedroom door creak open, causing him to tilt his head to see better. you, utterly exhausted, slumped out of the bedroom dragging a blanket behind you. without exchanging a single word, jason opened his arms wide and you plopped down straight into them. he held onto you tight, ensuring you wouldn't fall during the night. you snuggled into the crook of his neck, hesitantly pressing a sleepy kiss there.
"couldn't sleep," you whispered against his skin before taking a small pause, "...without you."
"same," jason murmured back, his eyes turning droopy now that he had you in his arms, "...im sorry, really. i just...i wasn't thinking about how it looked to you. you know you're the only girl ill ever have eyes for, right?"
"i do, which is why i don't understand why i get so mad. and it's not because im scared you'll...ya know. just the thought of you maybe leaving makes me sick, like maybe you'll find someone better or-"
"no. never."
"my sweet boy," you whispered and jason could feel the twitch of your lips against his neck, "let's sleep, yeah?"
"finally can with you here."
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beautifulfuckup99 · 5 months
Note
Oc and JK fighting so he is giving her the silent treatment till she breaks off crying thinking he will break up with her 🥲
Him proving her wrong later😍smuttyyyyyy
Awe... Okay, okay!
Title: Gotta Trust Us.
Warning(s): Pouty!Jungkook, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort S!x
Author's Note: Enjoy!
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"How could you not tell me?" Jungkook whispers as he sits on the couch. You felt exhausted. This fight had been going all night since you got back from the damn company dinner. From the walk to the parking lot, to the ride home, to right now that you two stepped into the loft apartment. You knew you should've skipped the damn dinner...
"Because..." You shift a bit, not having a clear-cut reason why you kept Jungkook in the dark...
"Because why? How could you do this to me, Y/N? I had to find out about you leaving from all your co-workers? I was the only dummy there who was clueless!" He states.
"I never said I was leaving!" You defend fast.
"Really? Your boss sure thinks so." He states. "Those emails sure say so. That damn letter your boss handed you at dinner tonight confirming you got an interview for the Thailand branch sure as hell shows you're leaving." Jungkook says as he stands up now.
"Nothing is set in stone! I... I was just considering it. Why would I tell you something I hadn't even decided on yet?!" You try, getting fed up with this already. It's like you two were going in circles...
"Because I'm your boyfriend! For four years we've been a team. You and me. You can't just make these damn decisions without me!" He says.
"Bullshit, Jungkook! This is my career! This is my cooperate ladder I'm trying to climb and it has fuck all to do with you!" You say without thinking. Jungkook stares at you and you freeze up, seeing the hurt clear in his eyes.
"I-I just meant-" He cuts you off.
"No. It's you're life. Why should I have a say..." He mutters before heading to the bedroom and coming back with a blanket and pillow.
"You're... Kicking me out of the room now?" You ask in shock.
"No. I'd never do that." He mutters before setting up the couch for himself. You roll your eyes.
"Baby, stop this. Think of your back." You try as he lays down on his side so his back is to you. You open your mouth but groan softly instead.
"You know what? Fine. Goodnight, Jungkook." You huff and walk off towards the room.
This would be over in a day...
You just had to sleep it off.
**********ONE WEEK LATER**********
"Hey, baby. I made dinner." You try the second your boyfriend walks into the apartment. He doesn't even glance your way, walking past the kitchen and to the gym. You sigh at his attitude, annoyed by it already.
"Damn. That whole apartment turned cold." Your best friend says with a shiver to prove her point. You look over at the laptop you had open to Skype so you could talk to her about this entire situation.
"I fucked up. I really fucked up, Tess..." You sigh as you sit back down. You should've told Jungkook your news before it happened, but... It all happened so fast...
"How's work been?" She asks and you roll your eyes.
"Just as good as home life?" She tries and jokes and when you give her a look, she instantly stops. "Sorry, Y/N..." She says gently.
"My boss is pushing me to go to Thailand for that damn interview. I-It's a higher position, you know? With more money, an actual office of my own, better vacation time. I just... I don't wanna leave until I have Jungkook on board, and he hasn't talked to me in a week!" You rant on as your friend just nods along, listening casually.
"I just... I don't want this relationship to end..." You whisper, feeling your heart ache with fear.
"Whoa, whoa! Who said that?" Tess asks in shock, and you look down. "Come on, don't act like that. You two are practically married! You've been going strong for so long! It's just a bump in the road." She assures fast, but you shake your head.
"This feels different. I... He's really mad at me. God, this place feels like my childhood home." You scoff bitterly as you try and blink away some tears. You never wanted the relationship your parents had. You always thought Jungkook would show you the right way to love. And he has. But this? This little 'bump in the road'? You've seen it before with your parents. And you knew how it ended.
"You're spiraling. Y/N, you guys are not like your parents." Tess tries as your bottom lip quivers slightly.
Tess watches with a deep frown before sitting up more. "Why don't you get out of there for a bit. Hm? Come visit me. Distance might help." She tries and you wave a hand at the thought.
"That's running away. I don't do that. I... I can't do that." You state. You couldn't be like your father, running off the second things got tough. You had warned Jungkook when you first got together; you love hard. You stay, you fight, you're loyal. But here he was, shutting you out.
"Think about it, Y/N. You don't have to deal with a grown man's tantrum." She says before you two end the call. You breathe deeply and shake it off.
**********LATER THAT NIGHT**********
You lay in bed, prepping yourself to lay down when you first hear it. A clash of thunder rumbles the loft, startling you in the process.
You gasp loudly and feel every fiber in your being freeze up. "Fuck." You breathe out and shake your head as you try and settle yourself. You look towards the bedroom, waiting to see Jungkook come rushing in like he always did during a thunderstorm. He knew your fear of them. He knew to always drop whatever he was doing to rush in and hold you. But... You hear nothing but the heavy rain.
No footsteps rushing to the bedroom door. No call from him asking if you were okay. Nothing. You feel your heart drop to your stomach. He really was mad.
Was it actually over?
*********************************************
The next day you stand in front of your suitcase on the bed. Were you really doing this? Were you really leaving? You sigh deeply and decide to just get it over with.
You'd be staying with Tess for a bit while you prepped for your interview in Thailand. As you're zipping up your suitcase, you hear the front door open and curse softly to yourself. You thought you'd have more time before Jungkook came home. He should've been distracted at the dog park with Bam all day.
"Whatever." You try and whisper to yourself. He wouldn't care...
Bam comes running in like he usually does after being away all day. He was always so ready to greet you. You pat his head, a frown on your face. You'd miss him.
As you're walking to the hallway, you freeze in your steps when your eyes meet Jungkook since he was in the middle of walking to the gym.
He notices the suitcase in your hand, and you watch his eyebrows raise. "What... What's this?" He asks and you want to laugh. Now he talks?!
"I'm leaving." You whisper and he blinks a bit in shock.
"Y/N. Y-You... You can't be serious..." He tries.
"Deathly." You state. "I-I can't be stuck in a house with a man who... Who wants nothing to do with me. You don't love me anymore, and I... I'm jumping ship before we both drown. I'm tired of going to bed alone." You say as you try to move past him.
"Jumping ship? What? Y/N, stop. I... Of cruse I love you!" He says as he grabs your arm as you shrug him off.
"No! You don't! You've been... Ignoring me all week! I... You wanna break up, I know you do." You say, eyes willing up as Jungkook stares at you in disbelief.
“Y/N. Don’t… Don’t leave me.” Jungkook tries as you stare at him, eyes hard. You couldn’t be here right now.
“You’ve been ignoring me just fine this whole week. Me being gone shouldn’t change much.” You mutter as you yank your hand away and walk off.
***********************************************
"Cheer up, Y/N. Things could be worse." Tess tries as you two lay side by side in her guest bedroom. You can only manage a soft 'mm' noise in response. You didn't trust your voice right now. And your eyes were distracted thanks to the window by your bed, watching the rain pour down. Damn this two-day storm...
You hadn't broken down yet, which you assumed was thanks to your brain not fully grasping the fact that you'd have to move on in life without your 'golden retriever in black cat makeup' boyfriend by your side. You're pulled out of your thoughts by a frantic knock on the front door.
"Who is-" Tess quickly cuts you off.
"I'll get it!" She smiles widely and rushes off. You sit up in confusion as your friend dashes out of the room. What the hell?
You hear the door open and Jungkook's voice carries through the modest apartment. "She's here?" He asks to confirm, and you roll your eyes. Of course, Tess would give you up.
You get up from the bed to try and shut the bedroom door, but Jungkook is faster. His hands press firm on the door, stopping it from closing. You two meet eyes for a moment, and it softens you for a second. A second that Jungkook takes advantage of by pushing on the door.
He's soaked. Drenched to the bone and his bottom lip is trembling slightly. No doubt he's cold. And yet he stands in front of you, shoulders squared.
"Y/N, come home." He tries, tone shaky towards the end.
"No. Did you run here? Why are you wet?" You ask, wrapping your arms around yourself as you eye him up and down.
"Traffic." He says and you pause. Did he get out of his car and run here in the pouring rain?! No! That's ridiculous...
"Jungkook, it's late. I want-" He cuts you off as he makes quick work of his jacket.
"What are you doing?" You sigh softly as you can't help but stare at his toned arms as he winces while taking off the wet black t-shirt that clung to his body.
"Jungkook!" You try hissing to stay strong, but that's when you notice a white bandage wrapped around his left side waist, a little under his chest.
"W-What..." He grabs your hand to pull you closer. You're too confused and concerned to stop him. He pulls your hand to the bandage.
"Take it off." He whispers. You look up at him and then slowly peel the bandage off. You gasp softly as you see the brand-new tattoo on his skin. As you read the words, it dawns on you. This wasn't just any tattoo. This was from your first date.
You and Jungkook had been set up on a blind date, and when you got to the bar and grill, you two sat in the booth not really knowing how to keep the conversation flowing. You were both so shy. At a certain point, Jungkook started writing on a napkin. You two went through all the napkins on the table and actually had to ask sheepishly for more at a certain point.
He'd gotten your last napkin conversation tattooed on him...
'This place is about to close...' He had written and passed it to you. It had made you blush when the realization dawned on you. You'd been here for hours...
'Guess so. Is this you saying goodbye?' You had written back...
'Nope. How long do you think we can keep this date going?' He wrote.
'Jeon Jungkook. Are you hinting at a night cap?' You wrote. You can remember this soft chuckle he'd let out as his tongue messed with his lip ring for a bit while he decided on how to respond.
'What if this date just never ended? How long could we keep it going?' He wrote.
'A week.' You wrote back and stared at him head on. He had frowned a bit at your pessimistic answer, but still responded.
'I think we could go for years...'
'Smooth. You're dangerous with words.'
'I'm also right.'
'Confident. And if you're wrong?'
'Is this turning into a bet? You know I'm competitive...'
'Bring it.'
You had sealed it with your kiss mark which had also been tattooed on him. You stare at the tattoo. "T-Th... That's permanent." You try quietly, in awe.
"Good. You're on me forever." He says as he puts your hand on his chest. You look into his eyes. "I was so stupid. I was childish. I just... It hurt me. You saying I had nothing to do with your job... It's true, but... Y/N, I see us as a team. I-I should've been told about this job opportunity." He says and you sigh softly, shoulders slouching.
"I'm sorry. I was just... I wanted to think it through before I bothered you with it-" He cuts you off.
"It's never a bother." He says gently. "I love you, Y/N. And I'll love you here, and I'll love you in Thailand, and I'd love you on the moon and back, because... I meant what I said that night. We can go for years. And-" You cut him off, grabbing his chin to pull his head down to meet your lips, kissing him deeply.
He kisses you passionately, hands gripping your waist as the kiss turns hungry extremely fast...
It makes you moan. Finally being able to get this kind of attention...
Your hands go to his wet hair as he backs you up against the bedroom door, your hands careful as they move down his body to get to his belt.
"Wait. I wanna... Apologize." Jungkook pants before kneeling in front of you. You blush hard, but let him yank your sweatpants down, eager for more.
With your pants tossed somewhere in the room and your right leg over his shoulder, Jungkook gets to work. He looks up at you as he tenderly brushes his lips against your pantie covered pussy. You hum as your eyes shut, hand resting on top of his head as he pulls your underwear to the side and kisses your clit.
His skin was so cold from the rain, but it felt so good to feel his lip ring against your clit...
He opens his mouth and starts tongue flicking your clit slowly, just to feel it twitch against his tongue. He loved that feeling and it never took long for you to give that to him...
You feel his tongue begin to move all around your clit and it takes you a moment to realize what he's doing...
'I'
'A'
'M'
I A M... I AM?
'S'
'O'
'R'
S O R?
'R'
'Y'
You groan as your eyes roll back, grinding against his tongue as he repeated spells out 'I AM SORRY' against your clit over and over again, not letting up even when you start practically humping his face...
"I-I'm gonna... Oh god!" You cry out softly as you fall apart as Jungkook holds you up against the door to help you ride out your orgasm...
As you shiver while coming down from your high, you feel Jungkook kiss up your body. "Good girl..." He pants.
He picks you up and you gasp at the suddenness...
"Slide down on my cock, baby. It's missed you..." He whispers against your lips as you moan in agreement, raising your hips as much as you can to nudge his tip.
"S-Stay quiet. Tess-" Jungkook cuts you off.
"She can cover her ears. Don't fucking keep quiet. I wanna hear you say my name..." He whispers as he slides into you fully, which makes you melt.
He kisses along your neck hungrily as he starts fucking you against the bedroom door, making you give in to his request.
"Jung... Jungkook..." You whine softly, move closer to pant and gasp in his ear to drive him wild. He groans and bites down on your pulse point, making you cry out, nails digging into his arms and legs tightening around his waist.
"Deeper!" You manage to grunt out through clenched teeth as he wraps a hand in your hair to yank your hair like you like.
He carries you right to the bed and throws you on it, making you giggle as you try to catch your breath.
"Ass up." He whispers and you smile at him.
"Make me..." You whisper. It makes him chuckle as he rubs his face, amused.
"Feeling playful? Hm, baby?" He whispers before he grabs you and puts you right in that position. It makes you giggle bashfully. He moves behind you and you feel him lean over you fully, nuzzling into your ear.
"You forgive me, baby? Hm?" He whispers as he teases your entrance, making you shiver in anticipation.
"Say it, baby..." He whispers and you turn your head to catch his eye.
"Fuck, yes..." You whisper, catching his lips in a deep kiss that's cut short when he thrusts right back into you. You bite down on the sheets as he focuses on fucking you faster and deeper like you'd begged for.
It doesn't take much to build you up again, especially sing his fingers were working over your clit firmly as he pounded you.
"I-I... Yes!" You cry out as he kisses along your face while deep inside of you.
"That's it, baby. You can do it. Cum again..." He whispers in your ear and makes you look at him as your eyes struggle to stay open.
"I love you. I love you..." You whine, so settled in this moment as he works you up. You orgasm hits you hard and Jungkook moans as you squeeze his cock while cumming.
You pull off of his cock fast and turn to suck it clean of your juices, looking up at him as his thick member fills your mouth.
"Oh, baby. Fuck yes..." He pants, head going back and eyes shutting in pleasure as he holds your hair lazily. "Y/N. I-I'm gonna cum. Oh baby, you're fucking perfect..." He praises as you go faster, never using your hands because you knew he got more excited when you worked him with your throat...
"S-Stay... Stay like that, baby. God, I love you..." He groans as he starts to use your mouth as you moan loudly around him so he can feel the vibrations. "Fuck!" He moans as he cums in your mouth, holding your head still so you take every drop.
You moan as you suck hard, wanting every drop. He pulls out and grabs your chin. "Let me see you swallow." He pants, looking at you with dark eyes full of need. You smile as you open your mouth to show him the cum on your tongue before you swallow. He groans.
"Fuck. You were so right, I was wrong. I'm always in the wrong. Don't ever leave me..." He whispers as you blush hard at swat at his chest playfully.
"Dummy..." You mutter before leaning up and kissing him.
"Let me hold you. I can never make up for leaving you to face that thunderstorm alone yesterday... But I can be here now. And for the rest of our lives." Jungkook whispers. You hum.
"Smooth. You're dangerous with your words..." You whisper and he smiles softly, resting his forehead against yours.
"I'm also right." He says and you look at him, the fear clear in your eyes.
"And if you're wrong?" You ask gently. He takes a moment to really look at you, hands holding your face.
"You've gotta trust... That I'd never let you slip away." He says back and you carefully wrap your arms around him, head on his chest as you shut your eyes and breathe deeply.
You'd hold him to that...
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Hope you liked! Also, I'm thinking about starting up a new series. Tell me what you guys think...
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nanamiya3 · 8 months
Note
Hello! As an SA survivor, I really appreciated your story with Naoya. My comfort character is Nanami and I was wondering if you could write something similar? Where reader has an anxiety attack bc of her trauma and finally tells nanami about it? She’s worried that he won’t accept her and nanami reminds her he’ll never do that. It’s a heavy topic so I completely understand if you want to pass on this! I appreciate your writing regardless so thank you for taking the time to write & post these stories :)
hii! i'm sorry it's taken me so long to respond (can you believe my last post was almost half a year ago :0) but thank you for the ask! i made this absurdly long because i love backstories but i hope you like it :)
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nanami x fem reader (she/her pronouns used) - fluff & comfort - pet names (darling, sweetheart, baby) - wc. 7.7k
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please note that there are mentions of SA (nothing explicit/graphic) after the little "exhibit" sections are over. if you aren't comfortable with mentions of past SA (ex: nanami asking if someone has "hurt" reader) please don't read past the little "exhibit" scenarios or don't read/expand the post at all :) again, it's pure fluff in the "exhibit a, b, c" parts, after that SA is discussed/alluded to
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Nanami Kento is an exceedingly patient man.
Exhibit A: The time you were an hour late to your first date.
“Come on, just trust me on this one!” Shoko exclaims as she pelts you with blueberries—your blueberries.
“Hey!” You glare at your best friend, snatching the bowl of fruit away before any more berries end up on the floor. “Do you know how much blueberries cost these days? They’re not in season right now and—”
“Blah blah,” Shoko sticks her tongue out at you. “I’m not saying you have to marry him.. It’s just one date!” She pauses, tone becoming uncharacteristically serious. “I’ve been friends with him since high school… He’s a really nice guy, very respectful.”
“Oh?” You quirk an eyebrow at your roommate, laughter bubbling over your lips. “Very respectful,” you’re giggling now, “I’m sure he’s veryy respectful.”
Shoko groans, hands scrubbing at her face. “You’re unbelievable—I need a cigarette,” she mutters.
“You’re unbelievable! You’re a med student who smokes!” you cry out, flinging an accusatory finger at her.
Shoko just snorts, waving a dismissive hand in your direction as she pats at her pockets for her lighter. “I’m serious though, I think he would be good for you.”
“Sure, he’s exactly what I need,” you reply dryly. “What was his name again? Nanami something—”
“Kento,” Shoko chimes in.
“—Nanami Kento,” you finish, twirling a blueberry between your thumb and index finger. “I’m sure he’s a great person. But you know there’s a reason why I’m never home when your guy friends are over…” You trail off, shrugging as if you’re unbothered, but Shoko sees the way your brows furrow and lips tremble. “Plus, I’m too busy with my dissertation and research to try to have a life,” you huff, easing the tension with some lighthearted humor, popping the berry into your mouth.
Shoko rolls her eyes at you good-naturedly, waggling her brows as she tries to lift your spirits. “What if I showed you a picture of him?”
-
Two photos, a not-so-slick mention of Nanami’s height by Shoko, and a sworn testament to his upstanding character later, you fold.
-
You, 6:47 PM
hey! i’m running late right now, there was an emergency at the lab. can we push the date from 7 to 8? i’m really sorry :(
Nanami Kento, 6:50 PM
Yes, of course. I hope everything is okay, take as long as you need.
You, 6:51 PM
thank you so much! again, i’m really sorry. i should be there by 8 :)
-
Nanami reads your text, slipping his phone into his pocket as he sighs. He had already arrived at the restaurant by the time he saw your first message—it’s too late to leave and come back now. He takes a seat in the waiting area, glancing at the bouquet in his lap. Shoko had threatened to break both his legs if he so much as breathed at you wrong tonight—he hopes you won’t find the flowers too much for a first date.
Nanami thinks back to what he knows about you. He remembers the first time he was at Shoko’s place: you were nowhere in sight (much to the dismay of Gojo, who kept asking Shoko to play matchmaker for him), but Shoko just explained that you were studying late at the library. Every time after that, it was another excuse: Shoko’s roommate can’t come because she’s busy in the lab, busy at the library, busy writing her dissertation, busy running simulations, busy reading papers, busy being a TA, busy meeting with her advisor. He’s only seen you once while at your apartment, and that was because he accidentally walked into your room thinking it was the bathroom: You’d been hunched over your desk, back to the door, and Nanami had immediately walked right back out into the hallway upon his realization that bathrooms didn’t usually contain beds and desks, shutting the door as quickly as possible so as to not disturb you. You hadn’t even turned around by the time he was gone.
That was the first and last time Nanami Kento ever saw you. At least until last week, when he received a text from Shoko detailing your contact info and a winky face, phone lighting up with a call from your roommate moments later.
“Hello?”
“Kentoooo!!! Guess what??” Shoko’s voice is all high pitched and giggly, barely containing her excitement.
Nanami thinks he knows exactly what she’s up to. “What is it?” he ventures.
“My roommate just agreed to go on a date! With you!!” Shoko’s glee is apparent, even through the tinny speaker on Nanami’s phone. “I just sent—”
“I never asked her out,” Nanami cuts in. He’s frowning slightly: not entirely opposed to the idea, just hoping Shoko hasn’t gone and planned your marriage without his knowledge.
Shoko’s sigh echoes loudly over the line, and Nanami winces at the earful he’s sure to be in for. “I know,” she’s rolling her eyes now. “That’s why—if you would just let me finish my sentence—I sent you her number so you could ask her yourself.”
Nanami’s quiet for a moment, thinking it over before he asks, “Why are you doing this?”
Shoko doesn’t miss a beat. “Because you’re both losers with no lives,” she laughs a little at her own joke, then slowly considers her next words. “And… I think you would treat her well—I know you would be good to her, and she deserves that.”
Nanami can tell how much Shoko cares about you, from the way she spoke about you to the way she threatened to buy 51% of his start up’s shares and tank the company if he ever hurt you. Yeah, he really hopes you don’t think he’s coming on too strong with the flowers.
So, Nanami sits in the restaurant patiently, checking his phone ever so often to make sure he hasn’t missed any messages from you, smiling and telling the hostess he’d like to wait a while longer to be seated. And when you do show up—17 minutes earlier than expected—he’s all smiles and reassurances. You’re feeling (and looking) frazzled, apologies spilling out from your mouth like a dam let loose as you follow him and the hostess to your table. But Nanami’s the quintessential gentleman: waving away your guilt and apologetic expression, pulling your chair out for you, handing you the beautiful arrangement of flowers, pouring you a glass of water to help calm you down, insisting you call him Kento.
And though most people wince and attempt to change the topic when you talk research, Kento’s patient as he listens to your ramblings on the roadblocks you face, the students you have to teach, the lack of common sense in the lab. He makes a point to ask questions about your research, finding it interesting because you find it interesting, loving the way your face lights up when you get to describe the implications of your findings.
You hate to admit it, already hearing Shoko’s “I told you so!” in your head as you think to yourself, but Nanami Kento might just be exactly what you need.
Exhibit B: The time you spent 4 consecutive days with your head in a toilet bowl.
Shoko Ieri, 1:58 PM
dude, what the hell are you doing right now???
Nanami Kento, 2:01 PM
What do you mean? I’m working.
Shoko Ieri, 2:01 PM
what could possibly be so important with your company that you’d be working right now??
Nanami Kento, 2:02 PM
It’s 2 PM on a Monday… Am I not supposed to be working right now?
Shoko Ieri, 2:02 PM
you’re so fucking dense you would sink in the dead sea. your girlfriend has been throwing up all day and you’re WORKING?
Nanami Kento, 2:02 PM
Throwing up? What do you mean??
**Incoming call from Nanami Kento**
“Hey assho—”
“What do you mean she’s been throwing up all day?” Kento’s voice is tinged with urgency and worry. “Is she okay? Are you there with her? Can you check her temperature? I’ll be there in—”
“Dude,” Shoko cuts in, “Don’t act like you didn’t know. There’s no way you didn’t know—I mean she’s been hurling like crazy since this morning, and you’re an asshole for not checking up on her.”
Kento’s shocked, and still extremely worried, trying to just get Shoko to focus so he can make sure you’re okay. “I really didn’t know, Ieri, she hasn’t texted me at all today.” His voice is strained, concern evident in his tone. “Please tell me you’re at home with her—is she okay?”
“Well…” Shoko considers how to best put your condition so as to not cause Kento a heart attack, a little confused on why you didn’t tell him anything. “She’s been throwing up pretty steadily throughout the day and she’s got a pretty bad fever.”
“How bad are we talking? I’m driving over right now.”
“104 degrees… 104.6 last I checked,” Shoko winces as she says it, knowing how bad it sounds.
“Oh my god.” The absolute terror in Kento’s voice makes Shoko wince even harder. “Ieri, we need to get her to a hospital—this is serious.”
Shoko shakes her head, reporting dejectedly, “She won’t go. I tried a couple hours ago but she said she doesn’t get paid enough by the school to afford an emergency visit.”
Kento’s at a loss for words.
“She said she’ll be fine since I’m ‘basically a doctor,’” Shoko finishes bitterly.
“T-that’s not… You’re not… Y-you’re just a med student—that’s not the same thing—” Kento thinks he might have a heart attack.
“I know, I know,” Shoko sighs. “But, I don’t think it’s anything too bad. She isn’t throwing up blood, her breath and heart rate are both pretty stable, and she was conscious enough to talk back to me when I tried to get her to the hospital.”
“Okay,” Kento says as he takes deep breaths, trying to not think about you dying or suffering or—“Okay. Okay. Okay. I’ll be there soon, then. We can talk later.”
“Alright. Drive safe—I don’t need another patient to look after,” Shoko jokes before hanging up.
5 minutes later, a stressed Nanami Kento is on your doorstep, rushing in as soon as Shoko answers the door, barely listening to what she’s saying as he moves towards your room. And then he’s inside, kneeling before your bed as his eyes dart over your figure, murmuring a gentle, “Hi baby, how are you feeling?”
You blink your eyes open, trying to pull yourself out of that feverish fog blanketing your mind as you slowly register who’s in your line of sight. No… It can’t be. How did he find out? He’s not supposed to be here—you didn’t tell him for a reason.
“Ken?…” You rub at your eyes, sitting up with a whimper as a wave of nausea hits you square in the stomach. “W-why are you here?”
“Because somebody told me you have a 104 fever, and it wasn’t you,” Kento tuts, tone disapproving but eyes gentle.
“Ieri…” you mumble, shaking your head slightly.
“Ieri,” he confirms, shaking his own head—this time at you. “We’ll talk more about that later… Right now, I need to make sure my darling is feeling okay.”
Your mind is still foggy, but your lips quirk up into a small smile as you tease in a small voice, “Your darling is feeling superb.” You give him a weak thumbs up and cheesy grin. “I feel great.”
“Really? Because there’s a bit of vomit on your chin right now,” Kento deadpans, secretly relieved you’re feeling well enough to joke.
And then you cry out in mock outrage, regretting it almost immediately as you clutch at your middle, the outburst costing you a fit of spasms and pain in your stomach. Kento’s mood sobers instantly as he gently rubs at your back, asks if there’s anything he can do for you, adjusting the pillows behind you to help ease you into a more comfortable position.
“You should go,” you whisper as you reach up to grip his hand.
“Now why would I do that?” Kento asks, smiling softly as he feels your hold on his hand tighten.
You turn your face into the pillows, mumbling out a muffled, “I’m sick… and gross. I can’t let you see me like this.” You groan, turning your head back to look at your boyfriend as you caution, “And you’re going to get sick.”
Kento just smiles as he cups your hand between his own. “You never look gross, and I won’t get sick because I don’t overwork myself.”
You huff out a tired sigh, weakly swatting at the hands wrapped around your own as you slur, “It’s rude to torment the sick and dying,” and turn on your side to face the wall—away from your amused caretaker.
-
For the next three days, Kento—with the help of Shoko, (not quite) M.D.—looks after you as you miraculously manage to regurgitate every bit of sustenance you consume. He’s cleaned that metal “throw-up” bowl on your nightstand—meant to be used in case you couldn’t get to the bathroom in time—more times that he can count. He’s changed your sheets, helped you to the bathroom, and dutifully cooked light soups and stews, spooning them into your mouth before inevitably patting your back reassuringly as you throw it up into the toilet. Most of all, he’s poked and prodded you with that goddamn thermometer: if you had the strength to, you’d steal it right out of his hands and tell him to quit being a mother hen.
But Kento just can’t help his worrying. To take care of you, he’s been staying the night over, sleeping on that couch in the living room he’s definitely too large for. Even Shoko feels a little bad for him, watching him dutifully set alarms for every other hour so he can check up on you throughout the night. The two of them work in tandem to make sure you’re okay, combining the power of Shoko’s education with Kento’s sheer stress to maximize your care.
And when you finally come to—when the haze clouding your thoughts finally clears—he’s just as patient and gentle as he has been over the past few days.
“You’ve gotta stop overworking yourself, sweetheart,” Kento murmurs into the top of your head.
“I can rest when I’m dead,” you protest, twisting from your position on his chest to make a show out of the dramatic wink you send his way.
Kento groans. “That’s what I’m afraid of,” he says with a sigh, helping you curl back up on top of him.
You giggle, breath fanning out against his collarbone, amused by Kento’s exasperation. “Thanks for taking care of me though, Ken. You’re the best,” you whisper softly, turning to pressing a kiss against his neck.
“Of course, darling,” he replies quietly, voice full of love. Then, louder, feigning nonchalance, Kento announces, “But if you don’t start taking better care of yourself, you’ll be on your own, and I’ll just watch from a distance and say ‘I told you so’ when you get sick.”
“You wouldn’t do that to me!” you pout, frowning at the thought of him purposely ignoring you.
Kento sighs, pretending to be upset, “You’re right. I wouldn’t do that.” He reports dejectedly, “I just love you too much,” practically able to feel your smile at his words against his skin. “But—” he leans down and tilts your head up to look at him, thumb and forefinger holding your chin in place to maintain steady eye contact. “—the next time you’re sick or in need of help, you’ll tell me directly.” His voice is serious, as firm as his grip on your chin and it makes you nervous, like you’re in trouble, eyes darting around to avoid his gaze. “No trying to hide it, no making me worry. I shouldn’t have found out about your fever from Ieri—you should have told me yourself. I don’t want you hiding things from me, especially if it’s about your health and well-being. Got it?”
You’ve tensed up against Kento, heart hammering in your throat as you feel a wave of guilt wash over you. His free hand moves to soothe your back—trying to show that he’s not angry with you—as he drops his hand from your chin, eyes tracking the way you hang your head to avoid looking at him.
And then, after a bout of anxiousness, you nod, stealing a glance up at Kento to gauge his mood as you start, “I’m sorry, Ken, I didn’t mean to worry you.” You take a deep breath before you continue, “I just didn’t want to bother you. I knew you’d drop everything if you heard I was sick and it wouldn’t have been fair for me to take advantage of you like that.” You pick at a piece of lint on his shirt, avoiding catching his eye and aiming for humor as you add, “And nobody wants to watch their partner throw up, it’s gross. I couldn’t let you fall out of love with me like that.”
Kento cracks a smile. “Darling, if you think throwing up in front of me is going to make me stop loving you, I need to do a much better job of showing you how much you mean to me.”
You huff out a laugh at that, but he’s not done, cupping your hands with his own as he looks down at you. “And you’re never a bother, baby, ever. I’m never going to be upset with you for letting me know you’re not feeling well—and you won’t be ‘taking advantage’ of me by letting me know. It’s my own choice to take care of you and it makes me happy to do it.”
You’re looking down at where Kento’s hands are wrapped around your own, but you nod, letting his words sink in as you duck your head back down into the crook of his neck. “Thanks, Ken,” you whisper, trying to hide how relieved and emotional him saying that makes you feel. “That means… a lot to me. I’ll promise I won’t hide things from you anymore.”
Your boyfriend smiles, replying with a soft “good girl” as he runs his thumb along the back of your hand. He’s glad you’re opening up, and as you doze off on him, exhausted from your past couple of days and lulled to sleep by the comfortable silence and gentle caresses, he feels a surge of affection settle over his heart.
Exhibit C: The time you he won a stuffed lion at the fair.
Today is a special day. There are no papers to grade, no students to teach, no presentations or talks to prepare, and your research has reached a point where you can confidently take a few days off to rest. Naturally, you decide to optimize this golden opportunity by doing only the essentials: Scheduling a long overdue doctor’s appointment, deep cleaning your apartment, spending as much time with Kento as possible, going to the fair…. Just the essentials!
So—essentially—you’re at the fair with Kento, ignoring your ever growing list of responsibilities in favor of overpriced food and rigged carnival games. Kento’s already sporting a large tote on one shoulder, ready to collect all the prizes you’re eager to win.
Three hours, six stuffed animals, a pizza, two churros, a basket of fries, five rides, and a petting zoo later, you find yourself surveying the prizes on display in front of the cursed ring toss.
“Awww, Ken look at that one!” You’re pointing to a stuffed lion sitting amongst the prizes. “It kinda looks like you, don’t you think?”
The face Kento’s making right now can only be described as… distaste. “No… Love, I don’t see the resemblance.”
“No, no, no, look at the color! It looks just like your hair,” you exclaim, gasping and pointing once more as you realize, “Hey! It even has a little frown on its face! Do you see it Ken?”
“I don’t frown that often,” Kento says with a frown. “I’m quite happy when I’m with you.”
You burst into a fit of laughter, wishing he could have watched himself say that. “Sure, Ken,” you drawl, patting him on the shoulder as you get in line for the game, set on winning his lion-lookalike.
However, after 4 tries and an absurd amount of money, you decide to call for backup.
"Kennn," you singsong as you turn to look at him with big, pleading eyes. "Can you help me win this game?"
Kento's heart sinks, feeling conflicted. On the one hand, he'd do anything to make you happy. On the other hand, if he helps you win the lion, he'll spend the rest of his days hearing "Awww.. Isn't he just so cute?? He looks just like you, baby!" about a stuffed, over-evolved house cat.
But, in the end, the little angel on his shoulder (with a voice that sounds suspiciously similar to yours) wins. As Kento steps up for his try, he half considers putting no effort in and losing the game just so you won’t be able to correlate his good looks to a stuffed animal. Then, he (or maybe the little angel up there) decides he can’t do that to you—it would just be too cruel.
So, Kento gets ready for his turn: rolling his sleeves up, passing you the bag on his shoulder, and sighing without meaning to.
His first try is a failure. Each of the 5 rings supplied magically bounced off the bottlenecks, frustrating him to no end. “This game is rigged, sweetheart. We should find something else to play,” Kento grumbles, turning away from the booth with an irritated expression.
You shake your head, insisting, “But this is the only game we’ve seen that has that stuffed lion!” Then, you bring out the big guns, clasping your hands together and widening your eyes, begging, “Please, Ken..”
Aaaand…. He’s a goner, always so soft and willing when it comes to you.
Reinvigorated by your pleading and determined to make you happy, your boyfriend sets out on a mission to win you that stuffed lion.
After his first try, Kento sighs so hard you think you might physically feel the wind from it tickling at your forehead.
After his second try, Kento turns to you and drops a sweet little kiss on your nose to remind himself why he’s subjecting himself to this frustrating torture.
After his third try, Kento runs a hand through his hair, readjusting his sleeves with more force than necessary as he squints menacingly at the table of glass bottles.
After his fourth try, you tug at his wrist, telling him, “You don’t have to keep trying, Ken. It’s okay.” You feel guilty watching him get more and more frustrated, but he smiles, patting the back of your hand as he tells you it’s okay.
After his fifth try, Kento looks up at the stuffed lion as he takes a deep, calming breath, trying to stay focused on winning the prize and not how annoying this blatantly rigged game is.
After his sixth try, you’re seriously impressed by Kento’s ability to remain calm. You practically had steam coming out of your ears with each of your missed throws, but he’s taking this like a champ—maybe you’ll read some of his self help books to learn his ways.
After his seventh try, Kento curses under his breath, beginning to lose his cool.
After his eighth try, Kento thinks it might be time to start believing in a deity: Maybe he would have won on his first or second try with divine intervention on his side.
And then! After returning to purchase almost ten consecutive attempts and officially creeping out the worker managing the booth, Kento’s fourth ring finally finds its place around the neck of a bottle!!
You jump up and down and clap in celebration, elated by Kento’s victory. He immediately turns toward you, excitement written across his features as he wraps you up in a hug. You’re giggling and pressing kisses onto his cheek, murmuring thank you’s against his skin as you both grin ear to ear—both entirely too old to be so elated over a win at the carnival.
And even as you tease him, holding the stuffed toy up next to his face in comparison, he thinks his patience may have just paid off.
Nanami Kento is an exceedingly patient man.
That’s why, as you break down in front of him, he’s patient.
Just minutes ago, you’d been okay—you’d been more than okay. Seated on Kento’s lap, breath heavy as he scattered kisses across your face—moving from cheek to nose to lips to forehead—you’d been beyond okay.
Nothing had been too out of the ordinary: though Kento wasn’t a voracious and demanding lover, the two of you had shared more than a fair amount of kisses and “makeout sessions.” And you enjoyed these kisses, these “sessions,” but you also enjoyed keeping it at that, never progressing further than a few wandering touches and a lost shirt or two. Kento, always happy to follow your lead, to respect your boundaries, would never press further when you’d break away and ask to go to bed, to watch the movie, to cook dinner together.
Tonight, you planned on spending the night together at Kento’s apartment. Falling asleep and waking up next to Kento might be one of your favorite things in the world: his hair is always perfectly mussed, voice deep and raspy, and touch gentle and loving. You always wake up happy and warm all over when you feel his arm around your middle, breath hot on your ear as he murmurs a low “Good morning, darling.”
So, you show up at Kento’s place at around 6, a bag of groceries on your arm, just like usual. The two of you work together in the kitchen, each spoon feeding the other small taste-tests, just like usual. Dinner is a quiet, romantic affair, intimate and sweet, just like usual. After the wining and dining, you two curl up in bed and watch an episode of that show you’re slowly making your way through together, just like usual.
And when you end up straddling him, TV already shut off, fingers gently twisting in his soft, golden hair, Kento thinks he can get used to this being added to your usual. His hands are splayed out across your back, keeping you close to his chest as he smiles into your swollen, kiss-bitten lips. And when he starts dropping sweet little kisses—like a saint delivering small blessings—all over your face, who are you to hold back that little whimper in the back of your throat? Who is Kento to deny the surge of desire flaring low in his stomach at your reactions? His hands slip underneath your shirt, playing with the band of your bra as you squirm against him and tilt your head up to kiss him again. He moves further—further than he’s ever gone with you—and runs a finger along the underside of the waistband of your pants, brushing a knuckle against the soft skin of your pelvis.
That’s when everything changes.
The second you feel Kento touch you lower than your stomach you freeze up, jerking away from the soft kiss you’d been caught up in. Your eyes go wide and you scramble off of his lap, breath frantic as you try to calm the spike of panic blurring your senses. You’re trying to keep an eye on Kento—on his movements and expressions and demeanor—but it’s hard with how suddenly you’ve become overwhelmed and it makes you feel scared, the way you don’t know what exactly he’s going to do next.
It was just one touch, it’s okay. He doesn’t know, he didn’t mean it, he wasn’t trying to... It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s—
“Sweetheart? Are you okay? I’m not gonna hurt you, it’s okay,” Kento tries to soothe you, but you look at him like you’re… scared of him and he hates himself for frightening you so bad.
What happened?
He thinks he might have an idea of what may have set you off, and as your breathing becomes more and more erratic, he begins to worry.
“Baby,” Kento starts, tone gentle. “Has someone ever… hurt you like this? By touching you?”
The way you flinch at his words is enough to confirm his suspicions, but Kento stays quiet, waiting for you to respond.
You don’t want to tell him. Your eyes keep darting around, nervous gaze cast down onto the blanket as you think about how you should lie—
But, wait. You promised Kento that you wouldn’t hide things from him, that you’d tell him things about your health and well-being. You really shouldn’t lie to him, not about this, but you really don’t want to tell him.
You don’t want to tell him because you don’t want him to say that it was your fault, that maybe you deserved it. You don’t want to tell him because you don’t want him to start treating you like you’re dirty or shameful, like an embarrassing secret. You don’t want to tell him because you don’t want him to get angry at you for not telling him sooner, because maybe he wouldn’t have loved you all this time—wasted all this time—if he knew. You don’t want to tell him because you don’t want him to tell you that it isn’t a big deal, that you don’t have a right to be so upset over something like this, that you’re overreacting. You don’t want to tell him because you don’t want to ruin this peaceful little thing between you and him with your own issues and nightmares. You don’t want to tell him because—
Crap. You’ve been stuck in your own head for too long. The air feels thick with an awkwardly long silence as you scramble to mash together an appropriate response, but Kento’s patient and he waits without judgement, kind eyes filled with worry.
And you really don’t want to tell him, eyes welling up with tears because you’re stressed and anxious and not sure about what you’re supposed to do.
Finally, you decide to just lie, choking out a pained, “No—” as hot tears spill over your cheeks. You feel horrible and guilty for lying, knowing that Kento has never been anything but upfront and honest with you, but you’ve never been as good and brave as him so you let the lie spread its wings and shield you.
Your breath is coming out in short, stuttered pants as you try to fight the wave of anxiety attempting to drown you, hands coming up to cover your mouth in an attempt to muffle your choked sobs.
You feel horrible.
You feel horrible for lying.
You feel horrible because you ruined the moment of fun you were having with Kento.
You feel horrible for this breakdown, even if you know you can’t help it, because Kento doesn’t deserve to have to deal with this baggage he didn’t ask for.
You feel horrible because being with Kento has helped you come so far out of your shell, but now it feels like it’s all been ruined, like no matter how much progress you make, you’ll never be able to fully heal, fully escape.
You feel horrible because you can’t get those memories out of your head.
You feel horrible because you keep thinking about the last time someone touched you where Kento did.
You feel horrible for ever correlating Kento and his goodness to that person, even if it’s just in your head, even if you can’t help it, even if it’s involuntary because you’re scared.
You just feel horrible. You feel horrible about everything. And when Kento reaches for you, moving to try and gently tug at your wrist, worried about your frantic breathing and the way you seem to be trying to stop your breathing altogether with your shaking hands, you feel even worse.
When you see Kento’s hand move toward your face, you flinch so hard you choke, gasping behind your palm as you squeeze your eyes shut, shoulders tightening up with fear. You’re so on edge right now and your vision is too blurry with tears to properly gauge if he’s angry at you or not, so you just figure he is. You figure he’s seen through your lie and he’s upset with you, upset for a multitude of reasons that just overwhelm you further. You figure that if your tears dried you’d look up and find an angry Kento looming above you, brows pulled low and lips stretched into a disgusted sneer.
“Hey, hey, hey,” Kento gently murmurs, pulling his hand back, interrupting your self-destructive thoughts. “I need you to take a few deep breaths with me—think you can do that for me baby?”
Numbly, through all the noise in your mind, you follow Kento’s voice like a lifeline, nodding with an uncoordinated jerk of your neck.
“Good girl,” he praises you kindly. “Now I’m gonna need you to move your hands away from your mouth,” Kento instructs, adding softly, “Gotta stop holding your breath sweetheart, gotta let yourself breathe, even if your breathing isn’t quite right yet.”
Taking a shuddering breath, you nod again, dropping your hands from your mouth. But, once your hands drop, you stop trying to control your gasping breathing and begin to panic at the heavy heaving of your chest. Now, you’re breathing too irregularly and awkwardly: inhaling when you need to exhale and exhaling over your exhales and struggling to just take a solid breath in because your lungs won’t listen.
Because you’re breathing too rapidly, you’re simultaneously suffocating and breathing too much, escalating your panic. You’re scared and getting lightheaded and it’s too much—one hand comes up to muffle your mouth again almost immediately.
However, this time Kento is prepared, and his voice pulls you back to reality as he murmurs, “Ohhh, baby. It’s okay, it’s okay.” His voice is low and sweet and it makes you pause, instinctively wanting to listen. “I know it’s scary, but you have to keep your hand away from your mouth. Don’t try to restrict your breathing—there you go, there’s my good girl.”
You’ve tugged your hand away again, placing it in your lap as you blink up at Kento through watery lashes.
“Alright, sweetheart, now I want you to focus on your breathing. I’m going to take a few deep breaths and I want you to try to match your breathing with mine,” he says gently. “Does that sound okay?”
You nod shakily, panic ebbing slightly as you listen to his familiar voice and begin to follow the slow rhythm he sets.
“Inhale…. Exhale…”
“Inhale…” Exhale.
Inhale… Exhale….
“Good girl, that was perfect. You’re doing amazing, love,” he praises. You know he’s just being kind—your breath is stuttering and you’re involuntarily mixing up the inhales and exhales—but Kento’s reassurance makes you feel safe and calm regardless.
After a few more cycles of breath, the dizziness fades and oxygen begins steadily flowing through your lungs as you follow Kento’s lead.
Inhale… “Exhale…”
“Inhale… Exhale…”
Inhale… Exhale….
As you continue to try to control your breathing, you reach out to pick up his hand, trying to silently bridge the gap between you two, making the small first move to show him that you’re slowly becoming more comfortable and grounded. He lets you lace your hand in his, thumb comfortingly brushing against the skin of your hand, the touch gently reassuring you that you’re safe.
Soon, you feel confident enough to wordlessly move towards Kento, letting him wrap you up in a comforting embrace. Being in his arms always makes you feel better, and now that you’ve calmed down enough to realize that he’s not going to hurt you, you press yourself into his chest, searching for his steady patience and gentle manner. Your breathing has evened out, and your mind has cleared enough for you to begin flipping back on what just happened. Kento stays quiet, letting you sort through the cascade of emotions you just experienced, but the silence doesn’t feel hostile—it’s welcoming and patient.
You were kissing Kento, and then he.. he touched you and it freaked you out, and then he was talking to you and… And then he asked you a question. He asked if… He wanted to know if—
Oh my god. You lied to him.
Oh god. You need to apologize—own up to what you did and tell him the truth. But as you think about what to do, your breath begins to stumble over itself again and your heart rate picks up, anxiety taking over your senses.
Your eyes fill up with tears and you look up at Kento, saying in a small voice, “Ken? I… I lied to you… earlier.” Your words are continually interrupted by an emerging pattern of involuntary breaths and hiccups, but you continue on, “I… When y-you asked… S-someone has hurt—hurt me.. before… I lied to—to you.”
You’re fully crying now, and Kento tries calming you down, rubbing your back carefully, heart sinking at your tears and the way your breathing begins to turn into struggling gasps again.
“Oh, darling. I’m so sorry,” he murmurs into the top of your head, continuing to gently soothe your back. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. Thank you for telling me—my brave, brave girl.”
Kento’s heart hurts. It hurts knowing that you’ve been hurt in the past, that you’re sobbing in his arms because someone hurt you. It hurts knowing that you felt too scared to tell him the truth, and it hurts even more knowing that you feel scared to admit that you lied. He wants you to feel comfortable with him—to know that you should never be scared of him.
“I-Im,” you choke out through gasping breaths, “‘m sorry—I’m sorry, so—sorry. I’m sorry, K-Ken.”
You’re not sure what you’re apologizing for, you just know that you need to be apologizing for something. Maybe you’re apologizing for lying. Maybe you’re apologizing for having been assaulted. Maybe you’re apologizing to try to appease Kento so he won’t be as angry with you for your betrayal—for not being the person he thought you were. Maybe you’re apologizing for not letting him continue to touch you—for stopping before you’re hurt again.
But Kento just shakes his head kindly, patting your back good-naturedly in response. “It’s okay sweetheart. You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. Shhhh, shhhhhh, you’re okay, it’s okay, shhhhh,” he coaxes gently.
“I’m sorry—sorry, ‘m really sorry f-for lying to you.” You keep apologizing, barely registering his words to you. All of your guilt from everything has cumulated, and though you’re apologizing for lying, deep down you’re apologizing for much, much more.
“It’s okay, darling,” Kento tells you quietly, ever so patient as you choke on sob after sob. “I’m not upset with you, it’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong, I’m not angry, baby.”
His voice is so achingly gentle, and the way he rubs circles into your back makes your heart break and shatter. How can a person be filled with so much good? You expected anger and rejection, but Kento is being so accepting and sweet it makes you break down into tears. After being mistreated for so long, it feels odd to be embraced so wholly and kindly, and you feel like you don’t deserve to be treated with so much care.
Kento, however, is on a mission to make you feel better. He gracefully waves off your apologies, insisting that it’s okay, that you have nothing to be sorry for. Instead, he apologizes, bowing his head as he begs your forgiveness for overstepping your boundaries. When you shake your head vehemently, insisting he didn’t do anything wrong, he just scolds you gently, “You don’t need to take the blame for everything—it’s okay to give yourself a break. I know I hurt you, and I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I want you to know that I’m deeply sorry. I pushed you past what you were comfortable with and it’s not your fault, it’s mine.”
That makes you go quiet, the silence split only by your uneven and choppy breathing—remnants of the tears still sporadically tumbling from your lashes. Kento’s apology is earnest, and his insistence that you not blame yourself makes you see the situation in a new light.
Maybe he’s right. Maybe it’s okay for you to give yourself a break once in a while. Maybe you didn’t do anything wrong and you’re just so used to being told it was your fault that you’ve come to believe it. Maybe, even if he didn’t mean you any harm, he still hurt you, and you deserved his apology for the way it scared you.
You’re silent for a little while longer, but then you reach up and pat him on the head, fluffy strands of hair ruffled by the act of affection.
“Thank you, Ken,” you tell him with a sweet, forgiving smile. “Thank you for apologizing, but I don’t blame you for what happened. You didn’t know my exact boundaries and you didn’t mean to hurt me. It’s okay, really.”
However, there’s still one more thing in the back of your mind bothering you.
“But… Do you still.. want to be with me? I mean, does it bother you that—that—” You break off, unable to finish your sentence.
“Hey, hey, hey. Look at me, love.” Kento pulls back slightly, one arm cradling your back as the other moves to wipe at a stray tear on your cheek. “This doesn’t change anything, okay? You’re still the same person I fell in love with, and I’m not ‘bothered’ by anything about you. Nothing about this is your fault, and I would never treat it as such.”
You nod, relief written all over your face as you breathe out, “Okay, okay.”
“Seriously,” he huffs. “Where are you getting these silly ideas from? I would never leave you, especially not over this.”
Kento seems almost offended that you think he’d stoop so low, tapping your nose as he clucks his tongue in disapproval. You just shrug self-consciously, a little flustered by how sincere he’s being.
“Okay, then,” you sigh dramatically, scrubbing away at the last of your tears. “I guess I’ll have to just take one for the team and stay with you forever—since you’re obviously so obsessed with me.”
“Oh yeah?” he murmurs, a smile twitching at the corners of his lips. “You’re quite generous, entertaining this obsession.”
“Yup,” you confirm, waving a dismissive hand as you continue in a conspiratorial whisper, “It’s your lucky day. I’m running a one-night special where I grant the favors of my fans.” A grin is slowly making its way onto your face, and your smile bleeds into your tone when you tease, “Don’t get too excited though—I know it’s big news.”
Kento has the most lovesick look on his face as he looks down at you, shaking his head in amusement. “Well, I’m certainly one lucky fan.”
And you giggle at that, wrapping your arms around his middle as you snuggle into his hold. “You’re my favorite fan,” you mumble into his shirt, pressing your cheek against his chest to listen to his steady heartbeat.
“Hey, does that mean you have other fans you like?”
bonus:
“What are you watching?” You ask, poking your head over Kento’s shoulder to peek at the video he’s watching on his phone.
He jumps up, shutting off the screen immediately, stuttering, “N-nothing, darling.”
You’re unconvinced, reaching for his phone as you squint at him. “Really? You seem awfully jumpy for someone doing ‘nothing,’” you deadpan. Then, you narrow your eyes, accusing, “You better not be watching extra episodes of that kdrama you said you hated without me. I know you secretly love it—it’s okay, you can admit it!”
You’ve got a smug grin on your face and Kento doesn’t even try to fight it as you enter the passcode to his phone (your birthday, of course), accepting defeat and rubbing at his temples as the screen unlocks to the Youtube video he’d been watching. He’d rather endure the teasing than try to wrestle the device away from you and accidentally hurt or scare you in the process.
“‘Helping Someone Who Is Having A Panic Attack,’” you read out loud, glancing up at your boyfriend as your eyes widen, grin slowly fading. You click on his watch history, jaw dropping as you see his recently played videos.
What Is A Panic Attack?
How To Help Your Friend During A Panic Attack
Signs Of Hyperventilation And How To Stop Hyperventilating
Best Breathing Technique To Calm Panic Attacks And Anxiety
What NOT To Say To Someone Who Is Having An Anxiety Attack
“Oh my.. Oh my god. Oh my god, Ken.” Your eyes have welled up with tears. You can’t believe he’s been researching how to help you—you don’t even have words to describe how emotional this makes you feel.
Kento has a sheepish look on his face, a little embarrassed you caught him binging those videos. “Yeah… I uh..” He clears his throat awkwardly. “Just wanted to… yknow…” He shrugs, and it’s pathetic and lame and it makes you love him that much more. “Wanted to make sure I was doing the right thing… Just in case you ever get… scared.. again.” He coughs a little, looking self-conscious. “Not—not that I think it’ll happen again but—”
You cut him off before he can get another word in, practically suffocating him as you wrap him up in a tight hug. Your arms around his neck are squeezing, but Kento doesn’t make any moves to stop you. Instead, he wraps his arms around your waist, turning his head to press a kiss to your cheek as you whisper, “Thank you,” voice thick with emotion.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
if you've made it this far: thank you for reading :) please take care of yourself, and for all of my survivors out there, please know that it's not your fault, never will be your fault, and never has been your fault!! i love you all and i hope everybody has a great rest of their summer :D
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cosmicanakin · 2 months
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Hi, can you do an imagine about pranking vinnie, and telling him to try not to annoy you today, please
pranks.
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pairing. vinnie hacker x female reader.
outline. you prank your boyfriend by telling him not to annoy you and it backfires, which wasn't what you expected.
contains. angst, (are we even surprised?), pranks, emotional distress, crying.
authors note. thank you for requesting anon babe ! i'm sorry if it wasn't exactly how you wanted it but i hope you enjoy <3
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you wake up feeling mischievous, plotting a prank to play on your unsuspecting boyfriend vinnie. thinking up the perfect plan to really mess with him, you can't help the smirk forming as he slowly stirs awake.
leaning over, you whisper in his ear "good morning baby." however, your usually sweet tone holds an underlying edge of irritation that has vinnie blinking in confusion. before he can say anything, you continue in a clipped manner.
"i'm already annoyed so don't bother me at all for the rest of the day, okay? i mean it." his eyebrows furrow, clearly taken aback by your sharp words. searching your face for any sign that it's a joke, hurt washes over him as you give no indication you don't seriously want space.
"okay..." he says hesitantly, hurt flickering in his eyes as he climbs out of bed. part of you feels guilty seeing how your prank is already affecting him, but you're determined to commit fully to the bit. hopefully he'll catch on soon that you're messing with him.
throughout the morning, vinnie keeps his distance as asked, seeming uneasy and unsure what to do to not annoy you further. any attempts at jokes or affection are met with exaggerated irritation, cementing in his mind that you genuinely need space from him.
it grows harder to maintain your façade as his usual cheerfulness fades into guarded silence. by midday, remorse is gnawing a hole in your gut seeing how dejected vinnie appears. when he recoils from your touch with worried eyes, you can no longer take it.
"vinnie, i need to tell you something," you start, grabbing his arm as he tries to walk away. he pauses but doesn't turn, shoulders hunched in defeatedly. "this was all just a stupid prank baby, i don't actually want space from you."
whirling around, hurt and anger flash across his features. "a prank? i thought you were seriously pissed off at me! you had me questioning everything all day," he shouts, hurt turning to rage the longer he processes how badly you messed with him.
"i'm sorry, it was just a joke. i didn't mean to actually upset you,” you scramble to apologize but he brushes past, heading for the door. "where are you going?" panic surges through you, worrying you may have broken the fragile trust between you.
"i just need to be alone for a while, i can't even look at you right now," he spits venomously before slamming the front door behind him. collapsing to the floor, you pull your knees up to your chest as quiet sobs escape your lips.
hours pass with no word from vinnie, your texts and calls going unanswered in a painful silence. night falls heavily, adding to your despair wondering if you pushed him too far this time. just as you're about to give up hope, the door creaks open slowly.
lifting your head, you see vinnie standing uncertainly in the doorway, eyes puffy and red-rimmed from his own tears. without a word, he crosses over and falls into your waiting embrace, holding on for dear life. neither of you speak for a long while, simply taking comfort in being close again.
finally, vinnie pulls back enough to look at you with watery eyes. "i'm still so fucking mad at you but i love you too much to walk away. just promise me no more stupid pranks, okay?” he pleads brokenly.
"i promise, i'm so sorry sweetheart. can you ever forgive me?” you ask, cupping his face gently. he nods, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips in acceptance of your apology. holding each other tightly, you both silently vow to communicate better to avoid such hurt in the future.
your love proves stronger than any misstep could fracture, bonding that transcends fleeting fallouts. here in sanctuary of each other’s arms rediscovered, all remnants of shadows melt under floods of forgiveness' warmth. two souls learn as one, growing through missteps refined to blossoms entwining roots anchored in understanding deeper than any sea. this you vow eternally, to cherish the blossoms arising where hearts intertwine.
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