:

𝓜𝓲𝓼𝓼𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓗𝓸𝓶𝓮🔞❤🔗🐾:

➡"I don't mind at all."

Idol!OT7 x Hybrid!Reader (Yoongi x Reader focus in this Drabble)

.｡.:✽ It started off as a business arrangement, a simple act of calculated activism to gain public favor and to help a good cause- who would've thought they'd all fall in love with you, and keep you for real?

-> Or alternatively: you seek out Yoongi and end up making biscuits.

.｡.:✽Genre: Hybrid AU, Romance, slight Angst, Fluff, Adult themes none in this drabble!

.｡.:✽Other Tags: tooth rotting fluff and lots of love

.｡.:✽Story type: Drabble Series

.｡.:✽Wordcount: less than 1k

.｡.:✽Masterlist: Click

..............................................｡.:✽:.｡.............................................

Yoongi has been battling to find back into a regular sleeping schedule for what seems like years at this point. It's not as simple as laying down and shutting your eyes- but it's been getting better these days.

It's quiet in his room where he intends to take a short nap, before the blankets move and mattress dips in from the weight of something- or rather someone- making their way next to where he's trying to rest on the couch.

He doesn't need to open his eyes. He's not even in the slightest alarmed. He knows it's you.

It's always you.

You're slowly making your way to lay down next to him, before you boldly move his arm to sneak underneath it and into his embrace. You take a bit to get comfortable, as always trying out multiple positions before you're satisfied with how you lay. Your hands find the fabric kf his shirt, fingers digging into the material before you bring your hand into a fist- just before letting go and smoothing it out again over his stomach. Your head is laying on his chest, calm breaths escaping you without noise, while your chest is quietly rumbling with purrs. The action of your hand is lazily but firmly repeated.

Grabbing. Holding. Letting go. Repeat.

Yoongi chuckles.

His hand finds your tail, let's it run through his palm from the base until the tip slips from his fingers- then he repeats it, just to grin at the way it smacks against the couch every time it escapes his hand.

"Are you tired?" you wonder, and he shrugs, not giving a clear answer. Sometimes he simply doesn't have one he can give you- you've come to learn to accept that, and simply work with what he offers. Yoongi sometimes reminds you of a cat hybrid as well. He doesn't need verbal explanations sometimes. It's odd.

But so are you.

They smell like home.

You push your face into the crook of his neck, running the tip of your nose over the skin that's not covered by his shirt. He smells nice. Everyone always smells nice. It's cause you love them- and they love you too.

"Everything alright?" Yoongi asks, and you don't answer either now, tables turned it seems, because this time you're the one who doesn't have the answer. You're not sure what's it with today, but somehow you just feel off. Like the day is going both too slow and too fast, not enough time to so something valuable, but too much time to waste around.

He runs his palm over your back. From the base of your tail up to the middle of your shoulders. Once. Twice. Then it rests on your bare arm. His thumb draws circles on your skin.

"Do you mind if I nap here with you?" you ask, and he chuckles again. You like that sound. It reminds you of the first time you met. How much warmth his eyes had held for you right away, even though he didn't even know yet that he'd end up as your partial owner- and lover- down the line.

"I don't mind at all." he answers, and you smile, hands grabbing the material of his clothing again. It makes him grin, brightly so, his hand squeezing your arm for a second before he pulls you closer. You agree in an instant. Yoongi is always warm. You like napping with him. "Are you making biscuits?"

No one knew back then, but it happened after all.

His hair had been shorter back then. Natural black. His face was a bit younger. He matured since then- not much visually, but mentally.

"I can't help it." you apologize a little embarrassed, well aware it's no proper human behavior. You know they all don't mind those quirks you have. But old habits die hard. Sometimes you still fall back into the way you've been taught.

"It's cute." he says, pressing a kiss to the top of your had before getting comfortable again. Yoongi doesn't use petnames much, and he has a hard time voicing out affection. But the way he acts speaks loud enough. "now sleep." he mumbles, and you nod quietly, eyes closed as well now as you try and join him in sleep.

Your hand still grabbing his shirt.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Holy shit this was amazing 😍

CONGRATULATIONS ON GETTING THROUGH THE PRESENTATION DARLING!!!

I'm here coz the picture requests 👉🏻👈🏻

And here's my contribution

His concept says murder but his smile says cuddles. Do with this what you will.

I love this concept 😭😭 thank you, darling!

Deachwita!Yoongi x concubine!reader

Warnings: mentions of kidnapping, murder (Yoongi shoots a dude but it's not detailed and he kinda deserves it), mentions of sex but no explicit detail, Yoongi is surprisingly soft, brief moment of physical attraction, strip tease??, I think that's it. It's not that bad. Unedited.

It's cold and you're barefoot. But that doesn't deter you from the goal at hand.

Escaping.

A year ago, you were stolen from your home, taken to be a concubine in the King's Palace because he considered you beautiful, and other pleasures had proven to bore him. Other pleasures being his other concubines.

It is a well known fact the King gets bored easily, most girls only lasting a few months within the palace walls before they are tossed aside, discarded, or left to fend for themselves, unable to marry and no longer supported by family.

The night is dark but nearly as dark as the man approaching you now. With your back pressed to the brick wall and barriers surrounding you on all sides, it seems your attempt at freedom is ruined.

No matter if you've lasted longer than any previous concubine, no matter if the King has shown you particular affection, your life will be forfeit once the King gets word of your treason.

Bolting forward, you clench your dress in your hands and dive passed the large guard, only to be caught by the waist.

"Let me go!" you fight and squirm in his hold, but to no avail.

He had a hand around your throat and an arm hooked around your waist. He's simply too strong for your undernourished body, kept weak and easily overpowered for the King's convenience.

A gunshot fires suddenly from the dark. A gasp is all you can respond with, limbs failing you when the man collapses to the ground, bringing you with him.

"Are you alright?"

Equally as dark eyes peer down at you as you push the large man off your torso.

Your rescuer is significantly smaller than your attacker, but he carries a significantly stronger weapon. Common folk are not permitted guns so your first impression of this man is that he's either a soldier or thief. Looking at his less than stellar appearance, you can only assume he's the ladder.

"I'm fine." You stand without the assistance of his hand.

"You're not going to thank me. I just saved your life," he points out, confidently showing off his gun before slipping it into the back of his trousers.

You stand as tall as you can, which is not very tell to be honest.

He eyes your hand, expression falling. Even in this dim lighting he can make out the familiar gold pattern printed on the back of your knuckles and wrist, following the carefully painted lines into the sleeve of your dress.

"What is a palace concubine doing all the way out here? At this time of night?"

You're not sure you should answer him. But despite your verbal refusal to respond, he reads the nervous air around you and the desperate plea in your eyes.

"Are you...running away?"

You nod.

He adjusts his jacket on his shoulders, a likable smile on his pretty lips. "You're brave."

Brave? You've never been depicted as brave before. But it's pleasant that someone thinks something positive about you after only being taught you're only as good as your body for the past year.

It's also worth noting that this man could easily kill you and his demeanor suggests that he might. However, his words and actions so far cause you to believe he's actually quite...gentle.

He offers you his hand. "Yoongi."

The action in and of itself is a declaration. He doesn't care for your title or supposed position. Touching the King's property is putting yourself in line for execution (and everyone knows how much the King loves adding to collection of severed heads).

You take his hand, expecting him to shake it or bow, when out of nowhere, he pulls you into himself, supporting your lower back with his other hand and flashing a confident smirk. Eyes captured and voice soft, unlike his grip around your waist.

"Shall I help you escape?"

"You'll help me?"

"For a price," he whispers, leaning down close to your lips, hovering just inches from your skin.

Three words nearly destroy your entire impression of him. He is a man, just like the rest of them, fueled by their desire for one thing.

From the corner of your eye, you see him hold up a golden charm, one that was attached to your dress as a decorative jewel. He shows it to you before slipping it into his pocket.

"A fair payment for putting my life on the line for a concubine, wouldn't you agree?" He releases you, urging you to follow him. "Come on. There's a ship leaving for the North tonight but we must hurry if you're going to make in on board. That is where you were planning on escaping, isn't it?"

Yes, that was your plan indeed.

Through the thickness of the night and the ever growing darkness nearing the port, Yoongi guides you through back alleyways and around hidden corners. You had forgotten about these secrets paths, brainwashed in the palace to forget the details of your past life and convinced life inside those walls was far more enchanting than it truthfully was.

Without looking, Yoongi slips his hand into yours, helping you make a sharp corner. He comes to a sudden stop, squeezing your hand tightly to indicate his actions.

"Shhh..." he looks back at you with a finger to his lips. "Look."

You lean around him to see past the wall.

Six? No, you count eight guards surrounding the boardwalk to the ship.

With a defeated sigh, you fall against the wall. "There's no way onto the ship with all those eyes watching. I've failed. Not only must I return to the palace, certainly my life will not be spared after what I've done."

"You're awfully pessimistic for a woman so determined." Yoongi stands in front of you, coming in close so as to stay hidden in the shadow of the wall and hide your figure from watching eyes. "We'll get you on that boat. I promise. You will escape."

"How can you promise that when the odds are so slim? Look at all those guards, there's no possible way--"

"There's always a way." He shrugs, not at all discouraged by the odds. "Trust me."

"Trust you?"

You haven't heard that word in a year, let alone practiced it. The foreign concept is frightening but somehow this stranger causes your heart to calm. His eyes are soft despite his tough exterior and when he smiles, you sense an aura of carefulness.

A thief and a murderer. Never in your life did you suspect you would be encouraged in the audience of someone considered by society to be such a menace. This man is not good in any typical definition to the word, but you feel a goodness in his air that you can't deny.

"Okay," you whisper, watching his eyes, "I trust you."

"Good. Now strip your dress."

"What--?"

"Trust me," he reminds you, removing his jacket.

You've come this far, been chased, shot at, rescued. There's no going back. Pushing down your embarrassment, you turn to face the wall.

"You'll have to untie me," you indicate, pointing at the ties lining the back of your dress.

Yoongi pauses, eyeing the extensive ribbon designs from the base of your neck to the curve of your spine. You pull your hair to the side of your neck and look over your shoulder.

"Have you never undressed a woman before?"

He clears his throat, choosing not to answer your sassy remark. His fingers take the delicate ribbon, pulling the criss-cross design apart piece by piece until the back of your dress begins to open and reveals a thin layer of white silk.

If it were any brighter, Yoongi may be able to see through the material but for now all he can make out is the shape of your body as your dress falls to the ground.

You wait for a moment, calming your heartbeat. Yoongi stands behind you, a hand reaching out to brush your arm, prompting you to turn around. When you do, he's unexpectedly close, dropping to his knees in front of you.

He grabs your slip.

"Wha-- wait a second!"

The sound of ripping fabric send you into nearly a panic. Yoongi rips your slip one way and then take each side and rips them again, creating four strips around your legs. Then he ties two pieces around each of your calves to create pants.

"Here, put this on." He stands and drapes his jacket on your shoulders, pulling the hood over your head to hide your face. "It's not perfect, but you look less suspicious and it'll be easier for you to run in case you need to."

"Except for this," you reply, showing him the painted gold symbol on the back of your hand.

He considers it for a moment and then brings your hand to his lips, placing a open mouth kiss to your knuckles and erasing the mark from your skin with a rub of his thumb.

You can't believe that worked! You've tried everything to remove the paint, water, oil, heat, medicine, but nothing has ever proven effective.

Saliva. How did you never think of saliva?

His mouth starts at your wrist, slowly working it's way up your forearm to the crook of your elbow, soft lips and a powerful tongue, erasing every last line of gold and claim the King put on you.

You're utterly entranced with his softly closed eyes, the gentle way his kisses across your skin. His lips are very soft, unlike the King's harsh teeth. You shiver at the memory. Or maybe you shivered due to Yoongi's eyes looking up at you.

He lifts his head when he finished, using his sleeve to wipe off the remains of gold paint on your skin.

"All clean."

"Thank you."

"Come on, the ship is about to depart."

You're not sure what influence Yoongi must have, but whatever tactic he uses convinces the postman to allow you on the boardwalk, given he doesn't see your face or bare feet somehow. Hiding behind Yoongi's arm until you reach the boarding plank, he urges you forward with a hand on the small of your back.

"Your jacket."

"Keep it," he says, playfully pulling the hood over your eyes and ruffling the top of your head, "you need it more than I do."

"Why did you help me?"

He gives you a soft smile. "One day, when the King dies and the land is better, will you come back?"

"I don't know," you reply honestly.

"Well, if you do...I hope we find each other again." He holds the golden charm he stole from off your person earlier, tosses it in the air and catches it. "Until then."

"Wait!"

He stops at the bottom of the plank and looks up at you.

"I never told you my name."

He chuckles, "You want me to remember it so I can dream about you or something?"

"Maybe."

You can't see through the night but his shuffling feet and his timid smile, it's not wild to imagine pink on his cheeks.

"Alright then, what's your name?"

"___."

He rolls his lips and nods, flapping his arms innocently before his hands land in his pockets. "Okay, ___," he bows, "until we meet again. Good luck."

"Yeah," you bow back, wrapping his jacket further around yourself for the warmth and scent, "you too, Yoongi."

::

This is sooo fucking cuteeee😭😭

(Also this reminds me of myself because I can never resist myself if I find a cat)

3:13pm(Yoongi)

"Cat!" You happily scurried over to the stray tabby, stroking his head affectionately as you cooed over what sweet boy he was and how he was too precious for this world.

"You realize that's the third cat you've stopped for." Yoongi commented, watching you with mild amusement.

"Is that a problem?" You asked, giving the feline a farewell pat.

"Not yet, but if you find the fourth, we're gonna be late to lunch with the guys." He said, taking your hand to keep you from wondering away from him again.

"I can't help it, they need to how loved and appreciated they are." You said lightly.

"Do they?"

"Yes, all cats require praise, it's a proven fact." You said.

"Hm." Was all he replied.

You walked in relative silence for a minute, until your humor got the better you.

"Cat." You chimed, poking his cheek.

He shot you a deadpan look.

"I will dump your ass right now." He said with mock severity.

"You will not!" You retorted.

"Why not?" He quirked a brow at you.

You let out a small 'hmfp' as you pouted at him, making him chuckle.

The two of you walked for a bit without saying anymore, til you felt a gentle poke against your cheek.

"Cat."

One of my favourite hybrid fanfic. So glad the new chapter is here

Eunoia // Ch. 24

eunoia (noun): beautiful thinking, the possession of a well-balanced mind, which exhibits goodwill and kindness

Pairings: Hybrid! BTS x reader

Summary: You are a world famous director and you have dedicated your life to your job.You have everything you could ever dream of; wealth, recognision, talent, your friends and family. But loneliness isn’t cured by success. So what happens when you somehow rescue seven hybrids? Can they fill the void?

Genre: Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, eventual smut

Word Count: 8.2k+

Warnings: past abuse, past sexual abuse, cursing, past violence, mentions of blood, panic attacks

Masterlist

Chapter 1, Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23

If you read this, please take some time to vote for BTS at the MAMAs on the Mnet Plus app and for the AMAs on the website VoteAMAs.com or on Twitter.

The taglist is now closed.

There was a deep lull after dinner, surrounded by fairylights on a late summer night with your bellies full of delicious food. You and Seokjin had cooked Michelin-level lasagna and for dessert the best custard tarts you had ever tasted. Seokjin truly was extraordinarily talented at cooking and baking. He could have been one of the best chefs in the world. The only obstacle was his DNA. There were no famous hybrid chefs, probably there were no hybrid chefs at all. For most people it was near impossible to look past the animal ears and tails.

“What are you thinking about?” Seokjin asked. You were the only ones left at the circular bench around the table. You were laying with your back against his side and your head on his shoulder.

“Nothing. Everything,” you said.

You couldn’t see his smile but you imagined it lighting up his face. Seokjin was always beautiful, he was one of the most beautiful people you had ever met. But when he was smiling, he was magical.

“You can never turn it off, can you?” he asked, bumping his hand with yours. You didn’t hesitate to take hold of it and intertwine your fingers. 

You looked up at the stars. Away from the heart of the city, they were bright and endless. “I don’t think that’s possible. It’s part of my charm.”

That pulled a laugh out of him and you reveled in it, in the ordinary sanctity of the moment. You took in the view of the garden and hybrids scattered around.

Namjoon and Hoseok were sitting by the pool, their feet dipped in the water, while Hoseok spoke excitedly about something moving his hands around, his tail wagging behind him. Namjoon listened to him like he didn’t want to miss a word falling from his lips. Jimin was curled around Yoongi on the grass, his eyes were closed and you could tell that he was purring without having to hear him. Yoongi was gazing at the stars peacefully, his arms at his sides. Further away, Jungkook and Taehyung were flipping through Jungkook’s latest sketchbook. Taehyung would stop him from turning the page sometimes to run his fingers over a sketch.

Taehyung was still reserved but he was slowly but steadily bonding with the other hybrids. Jungkook had happily told you that they had spent the afternoon painting together and proudly showed off their masterpiece, an artistic mess of colorful lines and funny faces that wouldn’t have looked out of place at a modern art gallery. You had said you were going to hang it up in the gallery unless Taehyung—whose cheeks had turned red for the first time—wanted to keep it. Timidly and in the best english he could master, he asked if he could take it to his room. While the lasagna was in the oven, you and Jungkook put it up on the wall above his bed.

Keep reading

Always a sucker for some angsty fic

Forever Home | KNJ

Summary: Namjoon’s love for your baby runs deeper than you could have ever imagined in your wildest dreams. When a hint of your own past shines through the cracks, will he be able to assure you that he’s here to stay?

Pairing: Namjoon x Female!reader

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Genre: Dad!Namjoon, working mum!reader, the reader has daddy issues (NOT a daddy kink)

Word count: 4k

Warnings: baby vaccinations, fluff, comfort, sounds angsty but isn’t really(?), lots of comforting, smut love making, mentions of abandonment, did I mention COMFORT??

A/N: Lately Namjoon has just been giving off the biggest husband/dad vibes and it has me feeling some sort of way. I wrote this fic to console and remind myself that the boys aren’t leaving us forever. So please use this fic to comfort yourself from everything that’s been going on lately. 

Tagging @whoisbts​ as a fellow dad!Joon enthusiast (lmk if you want to be in the tag list)

——————————————————————————

You had at least twelve more things you needed to get done before it hit noon. You look at the time on your monitor. 10:49 am. Shit, you were already behind.

The reason? Your beautiful baby. Your Bora. 

Keep reading

Not a Replacement

Pairing: Idol!Yoongi x Clothing Designer!OC

Genre: angst. BIG angst. slight fluff near the end(?)

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: mentions of still birth, pregnancy, surrogacy, and grief. also vague hints at death and drinking as well as bad relationships with parents. This story was super heavy so just...be warned

Summary: After the death of their first baby, Yoongi and Rosaelia don't plan to try again. That is, until one of their friends offers to carry their baby for them. This doesn't stop Rosaelia from worrying about the outcome, though.

Rosaelia paced the living room.  This was it.  This was either the end or the beginning of the rest of her life, and she wasn’t sure which was worse.  Jasmine had been seated on her couch for over ten minutes now, patiently waiting for Rosaelia to be ready to hear which way the news swung.  She was so sweet, and Rosaelia almost felt bad for even allowing her to do this to begin with.

It had all started almost three years ago.  Rosaelia had never wanted kids, but she’d discovered she was pregnanat.  It had been right after Jin and Jasmine’s wedding, and when she and Yoongi had announced the news, everyone had been thrilled at the idea of having a baby around.

That pregnancy had ended in tragedy, though, and Rosaelia had been advised to never get pregnant again.  That was ok.  She could live with that.  She’d never put it into her head to have kids, so the thought of not raising a kid shouldn’t have hurt her at all.

Except it had.  It had taken a while for it to hit her, but when Jasmine’s son had been born, everything had hurt.  Rosaelia couldn’t hold Namu.  She couldn’t hold Esme’s daughter Elise four months later either, or even nearly a year after that, she couldn’t bring herself to hold Zelda’s baby boy.

As much as seeing her best friend have a kid hurt, seeing Namu and Zoro hurt way more.  Seeing both of them had reminded her of that tiny baby boy who had come into the world sleeping.  Antonio.  He’d been born weighing less than a pound, and her time with him had been none at all.  Somehow, despite, the pain, it had sparked in her the desire to be a mother.  It made no sense.  She’d never wanted kids but losing one she’d never even planned to have had made her want that life.

She’d apparently informed the girls of such a thing that drunken New Year’s Eve.  It hadn’t been brought up again until recently, though.  Sweet Jasmine was the only one who had had the courage to mention it after a whole year and a half.  Not only had she brought it up, but she’d proposed an offer.

“What if I carried the baby for you?”

It had always blown Rosaelia’s mind how a bunch of girls from all over the world were so nice to her.  Jasmine was like the older sister she never had, Yuna shared her love for companionable silence, Esme was the best friend she’d always dreamed of, Astrid was always reaching to pull her out of her comfort zone, Zelda very much resembled her younger sister, and Nubia was ever the sweet voice in her ear.

But this?  This was beyond imaginable for Rosaelia.  Jasmine would carry her baby?  Whoa.  Whoa.  The sheer shock of such an offer had been enough to get her to agree.

That had been three months ago.  They’d already tried twice, with no success.  Rosaelia had been willing to try again, but only because she was told this happened often.  Three was their average for how many tries it took.  So, after three, if it didn’t work, she was done.

This was number three, and Jasmine was waiting on the couch to listen to the voicemail they’d received.  This was what they’d agreed on, but Rosaelia somehow wasn’t ready.  She was terrified.  She wanted a positive, but she wasn’t sure she was ready for that.

“Rose, I know you’re stressed, but I have to go in ten minutes, and I really don’t want you to stress about this overnight.  Can we please listen to it?”

“I don’t think I want to know, honestly.”

“You do.”

“But what if it’s negative?”

“What if it’s positive?”

“I’m not sure I’m ready for that either.”

Jasmine patted the couch next to her, and Rosaelia sat down.

“Rose, I don’t think you’re ever going to be ready for this.  Either way it goes, we’ll know eventually, so we might as well know now, right?”

She nodded. “I guess.” She sucked in a deep breath. “Ok, play it.”

Jasmine hit the button to start the message, and the two of them held their breaths.

“Hello Miss Kim, I’m calling about your blood test results.  We are very happy to inform you that the IVF worked, and you are currently three weeks pregnant.”

There was much more to the message, but Rosaelia tuned it all out.  It had worked.  The IVF had worked.  She was going to be a mom.  This was actually happening.

“Rose?  Rose?  Hellooooo?  You there?”

Rosaelia blinked herself back to the present, but it was too much for her.  She burst into tears.

“Aw, Rose, come here.” Jasmine pulled the younger girl into a hug. “How are you feeling?”

“Terrified,” Rosaelia breathed.

“Of what?”

“What if this was a mistake?  What if I end up being a bad mom?”

“You won’t, Rose.  I think the fact that you were willing to try for this is enough proof already.  No one tries this hard for a baby they don’t want.”

And just like that, Rosaelia’s world had flipped on its head again.  And this time, there was a very big chance of success.

◇◆◇◆◇

“Rosa, stop pacing.  You’re just making yourself more nervous.”

Rosaelia sighed and glanced over at Astrid. “I just don’t know what to do.  I’m scared that I’ll have more hope if we have a gender reveal.”

“And why is that a reason not to have it?”

“Because.  If we lose this one too…it’ll be so much worse if I know.”

“You’re going to find out either way eventually, Rose.  And besides, it’s ok to have hope.  Even if it doesn’t last, you’ll have enjoyed it for a while.”

Rosaelia sucked in a breath. “So…I tell Jasmine yes?”

“I think you should.  You don’t have to, though.”

Rosaelia wrung her hands as she considered it.  She was so terrified.  She wasn’t sure she had the mental strength to lose another baby, but she knew she should be more confident that this was going to end well.  The problem last time had been that her uterus wasn’t strong enough to carry the baby, and that issue was remedied by the fact that Jasmine was carrying this one.  That didn’t mean something wouldn’t happen, though.

Despite this, she informed Jasmine that she wanted to know.  She knew that this time she had so much more support than she’d had last time.  She remembered how awful the last time had been.  Her water had broken at 21 weeks.  That was way, way, way too early for a baby to be born, but it had happened anyways.  After it was all said and done, she hadn’t known who to tell.  It wouldn’t take long for someone to notice something was wrong, but how did she tell everyone?  How do you tell everyone you just lost a baby?

Of course, the news had come out eventually.  She’d told Esme nearly immediately, but she wasn’t sure how to tell the rest of them.  There were so many other things going on – Jasmine was expecting soon, and Zelda was planning a wedding.  Could she even tell them?

And then, Yuna had brought it up one night near the end of July.

“Rosa?  I hope…this isn’t rude.  If you don’t want to answer this question, that’s fine, but we’ve all been a bit worried.  You haven’t…talked about the baby in a while…and you don’t really look pregnant anymore.  Did something happen?”

This has surprised Rosaelia.  First of all, she’d been surprised anyone had even noticed.  She’d been doubly surprised that Yuna had been willing to ask about it.  It was just the two of them tonight, so she felt a bit more willing to tell her than she had if they’d been in the presence of Jasmine or Zelda.

“We lost the baby.  In June.”

“Oh,” Yuna gasped.

Rosaelia nodded. “I went into labor, and…well…he didn’t make it.”

Yuna rubbed her shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Rosa.  I shouldn’t have asked.”

Rosaelia shook her head. “It’s ok.  I needed to tell everyone eventually.”

It hadn’t taken long for her to tell everyone after that.  Yuna and Esme had both encouraged her to do so, and she’d felt more relived after everyone knew.  Of course, this didn’t mean it hurt any less, but the weight of having to tell everyone was lifted off her shoulders.

Somehow, that hurt was still there two and a half years later.  It didn’t hurt as bad to see all her friends’ babies, but it still saddened her to see little boys.  They all reminded her that in some other reality, she would’ve had one of those little boys now.  Had he been born near his due date, his second birthday would be coming up soon.

◇◆◇◆◇

The oddest thing happened.  Jasmine had planned the gender reveal.  This, of course, was not odd.  She was the one carrying the baby, and she’d wanted to be the one to make the cake.  The odd part had been the date she’d planned the party for.  October 24th.  It just so happened to fall on a Sunday this year, which was the absolute best day for a party.  But…it was Antonio’s due date.  Jasmine probably didn’t remember this.  It had been mentioned in passing nearly three years ago now.  But Rosaelia sure remembered it.

By the time that date rolled around, Rosaelia wasn’t feeling so great.  Even though it wasn’t his death date, it felt more like a death date to her than June 17th did.  This was the third year his due date had come around, and every time it did, she remembered how horrifying that one June day had been.  She remembered how deathly silent the room had been when he’d been born, and she remembered the lingering warmth on his skin when she’d held him.  She remembered how bitterly she’d cried.  He’d been so tiny, and he’d looked more like a little doll than a newborn baby.  He’d had Yoongi’s nose, but none of his other features had been quite as defined.

She’d sat there for hours just holding his little body, Yoongi right by her side.  Both of them had been in tears, and she’d realized she’d only experienced this kind of grief once before.  This was different, though.  Nothing hurt more than holding a baby you’d never get to raise.

“Rosa?  What’s wrong?” Yoongi asked, settling his hands against her shoulders.

Apparently she’d been in their bedroom long enough to be considered worrisome, because he’d came to find her.  She glanced up at him, feeling far too embarrassed about being caught crying.

“I…I don’t know if I can go…today.  It should be Antonio’s second birthday.  It…” she sobbed, and then her voice dropped to a whisper. “It feels like we’re betraying him by having another baby.”

“Oh, Rosa.” Yoongi crushed her in a hug. “We’re not betraying him.”

But it felt like a betrayal.  Just like falling in love again had at first.

“But…he was supposed to be our first baby.”

“He was our first baby.”

Those words stilled her.  She’d never thought about it that way.  It hadn’t felt like he was her first baby because she’d never seen him alive.  She’d remembered Jasmine talking about Namu’s birth not too long after that.  She’d talked about his big, tired eyes as he’d looked up at her for the first time.  Rosaelia had never had that.  Her baby had been gone before the world had even welcomed him.

“He was?”

“He was.”

She could remember knowing he was alive.  She’d felt his tiny flutters in her belly for a few weeks before that awful accident had happened.  It had barely been noticeable, but it had been there.  There had definitely been a tiny human in there, alive and active.  Antonio had been alive.  He’d been there before his premature birth had stamped the life out of him.

She sighed into Yoongi’s shoulder, finally giving into the tears. “He’s been gone for two years, Yoongs.  Why am I not over it?”

“Because we lost our child.  We’ll never be over it,” he replied, and she realized he was crying too.  He pulled away from her just enough to look her in the eyes. “How about we go upstairs now?  Even if not for us for Jasmine?  She’s doing such a big favor for us already, and now she’s planned this party, so how about we go to it?”

Rosaelia nodded, fresh tears sliding down her face.  Yoongi thumbed at them in an effort to clear them off her face.  “Ok…ok.  Let’s go upstairs.”

◇◆◇◆◇

Jasmine was the best at planning baby showers.  She’d planned all but one of the ones they’d had so far, and that one had been her own.  She’d made a cake, and the girls had helped her decorate the roof.  It all felt so special, and it made Rosaelia feel so sad.  It was awfully reminiscent of her first gender reveal, and that one had ended in tragedy only a few weeks later.

She was glad Yoongi was there with her and that it was only the few of them.  If they’d invited other people, Rosaelia would’ve felt way worse.  Barely anyone knew that it was her baby that Jasmine was carrying.  They’d all agreed not to tell anyone for Rosaelia’s peace of mind.  She didn’t want to have to go around with people knowing she’d lost two babies if this one died too.

She wasn’t sure she was ready to cut the cake when Jasmine handed her the knife.  She didn’t know if she wanted to know.  If it was a boy…she’d just be reminded of Antonio all over again, and if it was a girl…well, maybe that would be good.  Esme’s daughter could have a little best friend soon.  It would just remind her of Bianca…and Julia.  Bianca, the little sister she’d let go of when she’d left México, and Julia, the girl she’d lost so many years ago.

She needed to not think about it for too long.  Either way, she was having a baby, and that was what mattered.  It was just a baby.  Not Antonio.  Not Bianca.  Not Julia.  Just a baby.

When she cut into the cake and it came out pink, she couldn’t help but smile.  One glance at Yoongi told her that he was grinning.

“We’re having a little girl, Rosa.”

“We are.”

It made her happy, but she was sad all at the same time.  She couldn’t even explain it.  She wasn’t even sad that Antonio wasn’t here anymore.  This was something else entirely.  She remembered Bianca talking about being an aunt one day.  She’d never wanted to her children of her own, but she’d always hoped that Rosaelia would have children.

They weren’t in contact anymore, though.  Bianca had sided with their parents in the arguments that eventually resulted in Rosaelia leaving the country, and every conversation they’d had since had resulted in Bianca trying to get Rosaelia to talk to them again.  So, Rosaelia had practically stopped talking to her too.

◇◆◇◆◇

The next few months seem to go by too slow and too fast all at the same time.  Esme’s second daughter was born merely a week after the gender reveal, and somehow, this made Rosaelia all the more nervous for her baby to be born.

Once the 28-week mark had passed, Rosaelia was a bit calmer than she had been for the whole time.  Jasmine had made it to the third trimester, and each week was one step closer to a baby who could actually survive the outside world.

The only issue left in Rosaelia’s mind was a name.  What was she going to name this baby?  She’d named Antonio when she’d been only 16 weeks pregnant, that was, as soon as she’d known he was a boy.  But she hadn’t been so ready with this baby.  Naming the baby would make her more attached, and she didn’t want to make it even harder on herself if she lost it.

The thing was, there was less than three months until they’d be greeting a little baby for sure, and she could come sooner than that.  And…Rosaelia had some sort of idea.  She just wasn’t sure if it was a good idea, though.  It had been on her mind since she’d first been pregnant with Antonio, and now it was especially present as she thought about naming a little girl.  Julia’s namesake had already been honored once in a clothing line Rosaelia had developed…but.

“My middle name is Isabel.  After my grandmother.  Mamá said it means perfection.  Funny, isn’t it?  She’d think I’m far from perfect now.”

Of course, if Julia were here now, Rosaelia wouldn’t even be having this baby.  But she also wouldn’t have wanted Rosaelia to name the baby after her.  “Give her a special name.  Don’t name her after me,” she would’ve said.  But she’d departed from this earth thirteen years ago, and Rosaelia wanted to remember her.  Not that she’d ever forget her.

Rosaelia told Yoongi she was naming the baby after an old friend.  They’d be calling her Isabella.  Not quite Isabel, but close enough.  Rosaelia had had full intent of giving their daughter a Korean name as well, but Yoongi had insisted they give her Rosaelia’s own middle name.  Maria.  Isabella Maria.

So, it was decided.  They’d be greeting a little tiny girl named Isabella Maria on April ninth.  Or…somewhere around there.  Babies were rarely born on their due dates.

Rosaelia felt a bit heavier once they’d named her.  She knew that likely, this baby would make it.  But the knowledge that there was still an ‘if’ made her uneasy.

“Hey, Rose, what’s wrong?” Yoongi asked as they lay in bed one night.  He could tell she’d been uneasy for days – weeks, even – and he wanted to know what was up.  The only issue was that they never seemed to talk about their feelings, so it was a bit awkward broaching the subject.

She took a big, deep breath. “Just…what if we lose her?  She doesn’t even seem real to me sometimes.  I mean, I’m not carrying her, so how is she my baby, you know?”

He hummed. “I think it’ll feel very real when you’re holding her in your arms.”

Her eyes filled with tears. “What if it never happens, though?”

He thumbed at her tears. “It’ll happen.”

“But we lost Antonio.  We could lose her too.”

“We could.  We could lose anyone at any time, Rose.  We can’t dwell on that, ok?”

“Yoongi….”

“What is it?” he hummed.

“I don’t want to lose her.”

“We won’t.”

◇◆◇◆◇

By the time April rolled around, Rosaelia was much more confident in Isabella’s survival, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t insanely freaked out when Jasmine went into labor.

It was long.  Much longer than Rosaelia’s labor had been with Antonio.  And while Jasmine was completely fine with this, Rosaelia just spent hours pacing the hospital.  Jin had told her that everything was fine, and that Jasmine’s labor had lasted this long with her own son, Namu, so it was completely normal that it was taking this long.  Apparently.

It was nearly eleven pm by the time the tiny girl made her appearance, and she was loud about it.  This astounded Rosaelia.  She’d never heard a newborn scream before.  Maybe most parents didn’t like the sound of that, but to her it was a scream of life.  Isabella had made it.  She was alive.

Holding her a few minutes later was a completely unreal experience for Rosaelia.  Isabella was tiny, but she was nearly six times the size her brother had been.  Rosaelia finally understood the wonder of having her baby look at her.  And, strangely, Isabella was resemblant of what Rosaelia had thought Antonio would look like had he been born when he’d been supposed to.

She had Yoongi’s eyes, with the slightest crease over her eyelids.  She had his little nose too, but Rosaelia was sure her skin was a tanner shade than his was, and her lips were a touch too pouty to have been his.  She was the most adorable baby Rosaelia had ever seen, even more adorable than Antonio had been.  She had the blankest stare as she looked up at Rosaelia, but she was still so beautiful.

“Hey, look,” Yoongi chuckled. “It’s me.”

Rosaelia let out a soft laugh. “I never want to let her go.”

He laughed. “Maybe for just a few minutes so I can hold her?”

“Maybe….”

They’d be taking a little baby home soon, and it seemed surreal.  Isabella was really theirs.

This is part of the Dad!BTS series that can be found here

A/N: uh...so yeah this is finally getting posted. Honestly I started this months ago and thought it would never see tumblr

It would be greatly appreciated if you reblogged the story if you liked it!

Taglist: @jiminie-and-his-pinky-finger @jinnie-forthe-winnie @thornedswan @kookstempo @armys-dna @fly-you-dam-fools @aianloveseven