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[ SMAU + DRABBLE ] 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 ! ( sixth installment ) in which you are forced to plan a corporate event with your office enemy .
୨୧˚ part; one. two. three. four. five. six.
୨୧˚ incl; kento nanami
୨୧˚ cw; profanity , mentions of sex
୨୧˚ an; so sorry if anyone asked to be tagged recently and you didn’t get tagged!! tumblr is being screwy again and i can’t see any of my comments😭😭 also apology time from nanami woo hoo!!!
Nanami stole yet another glance at the expensive watch wrapping around his wrist. Your promptness was certainly an issue; how does she show up nearly thirty minutes late to a meeting she called?
And then he scoffs at himself, giving a little shake of the head. Meeting? There he goes again, speaking in corporate tongue.
But finally, you do show up. Bursting through the entrance of the quiet café, making an embarrassing show of noisiness with your heaving breaths and wheezes. Not that it had been much of a disturbance to anyone else—only two other patrons resided in the small establishment; one too engrossed in her book to care, and the other scrolling mindlessly through his cellphone with a pastry in his free hand. Even so, you bashfully clapped two hands together as you peeked around the room. “Sorry!”
The older woman behind the counter nods in appreciation. Nanami can’t help but exhale roughly through his nose in sort of an almost-chuckle. God, you were a mess, weren’t you?
“Sorry, I’m so late!” You approached the table he resumed, one near the front window like you’d asked for. Your heels clopping against the grainy tile, knee-length dress flowing like water around your legs. He stands, walking to the opposite side of the tiny, rectangular table and pulling out the chair for you.
“Impressively late,” Nanami derides, but it’s not full of any malice. Truth be told, he did have the patience of a saint when situations like these were called to question. He didn’t mind waiting, because despite your utter tardiness, he trusted that you'd show up eventually, rather than ditching him altogether and leaving him to sulk in the humiliation of being stood up over a cup of black coffee. You were scatterbrained at times, yes, but dependable? Always.
Nanami returns to his side of the table after pushing your seat in. It wasn't meant to come across as a romantic gesture; Nanami had made it a habit of serving the women in his life nothing but a respectful demeanor. Whether it be lovers, colleagues, friends, and anyone in between. Though admittedly, his behavior towards you these past couple of months has been anything but respectful. It’s too late to start making amends to things, but the least Nanami can do now is try.
You shudder. Flustered, maybe? “Y’didn’t have to do that,” you tell him, placing your phone and clutch bag onto the table.
Nonsense. “My mother would have my head if she knew I let a lady pull out her own seat.” While true—his mother, bless her heart, raised him to be the gentleman his is today—he also just… wanted to do it. It felt right to serve you a seat.
Your elbow slams rudely on the table, finger reaching across to wag in his face. “Sounds like a good woman!” You laugh, and Nanami gingerly swats your hand away. He’s about to say something, but you beat him to the next sentence. “Hey, what gives? I thought this was supposed to be a day of relaxation?”
He worms under the scrutinized glare you wave up and down from his face to neck to chest to abdomen, finally peeking under the table to gawk at his shoes. Nanami curls his toes, a feeble attempt to shrink away from the judgement casted in your eyes. “What? Stop looking at me like that.”
“You’re dressed in fancy-man clothes.” At that, he takes it upon himself to look down at his wear; an ironed dress shirt clung to his chest, tie resting flat and perfectly centered between his pectorals. His slacks were ashy grey and devoid of any wrinkles, cut and hemmed around his ankles just above those stiff, leather shoes snug on his feet. The matching suit jacket was slung neatly over the backrest of Nanami’s chair, sleeves tucked away into its pockets.
His least expensive suit, sure, but still far too pristine and tidy for a little coffee shop outing. "Is it so bad that I like to remain presentable?" Nanami offers the question while he busies his hands, plucking open the pearlescent buttons at his wrists and rolling back the sleeves off the off-white button down.
"Presentability and discomfort don't always go hand in hand, you know. I mean, look at me," your voice echoes the mocking tone of cockiness, clearly a joke but also not at the same time. With a gesture towards yourself, you beam and shimmy in the simple, breezy dress. It had a floral pattern, Nanami notices. "Cute, stylish, and comfortable."
He isn't jumping to disagree with that. "Sorry, all my sun dresses were in the wash." He surprises himself with the jest, but it has you splitting an unladylike snort, so he doesn't come to regret it.
The toe of a thick, wedged heel jabs into his sock-clad ankle. "You business men are all so sassy." Nanami glowers at the adjective chosen to describe him, but doesn't refute. You sigh. "It's fine, I guess. Nothing we can do about it now. Wear some sweats next time though, would you?"
Next time. There’d be a repeat of this?
“Sure.”
“Great.” Your toothy grin beams over your clutch purse, of which is now wrangled in your grabby hands. Rifling through its unorganized contents, dumping out tubes of chapstick, loose change, and sticks of gum onto the table before fishing out a wallet. “Right, I’m starved. Did you look over the menu any?”
Nanami looked it over five times during the wait, if not for anything other than something to pass time. “Not really. Tell me what you recommend.”
You bite. Rambling about the array of pastries and baked goods that have been worthy enough to be placed in the category of y/n’s favorites. Nanami soaks in your excited, leaning in ever so slightly with open ears a you passionately ramble about cake.
“I take it you come here often?”
The question has you nodding. “Like, all the time man. This is my spot, you should be so grateful that I’m not a gatekeeper.” You look back at the menu once more before verbally deciding: “I want pistachio cheesecake and peppermint tea.”
The man poorly stifles his chuckle, rising from his seat. "Alright then, stay here. I'll go order."
"Oh, okay thanks." You shove your wallet into the wall of Nanami's chest, "take my card with you."
He is bewildered that you would even think he'd let you pay for your own meal. "I've got it," Nanami tells you, gently pushing the leather thing back to you.
"Nanami, stop."
"Stop what?"
"Take my fucking wallet," you gnarr, and he thinks you look much like a soaked kitten in this state of agitation. "Don't make me slap you."
It's an unserious threat, but Nanami plays a long. He raises two thick, blonde eyebrows. "Jesus, okay, you win. Just please keep your hands to yourself.” He revels in your little smirk of satisfaction, snatching your wallet back before making his way to the front counter.
Nanami kindly asked for two slices of pistachio cheese cake and two drinks; for you, peppermint tea, and him a coffee, black. Of course, everything was charged to his card. You didn’t need to know that, though.
You scarfed your portion down with swiftness, slinging spoonfuls of chartreuse custard into your mouth with such savagery that Nanami feared you might choke. He was a much more serene sight, preferring to savor each bite between slow swigs of piping coffee. The dark roast complimented the nutty pistachio flavor stunningly. For such a nameless little eatery, the food was exquisite. He takes another calculated bite of cake.
“You like?” The question was garbled behind a mouthful, cheesecake clinging to your milky teeth as you smiled brightly. A childlike excitement radiated warmly off you, clouding across the table to heat him up, too. It was sweet how wired you were, hopeful that he’d, too, enjoy your choice of confection.
Nanami huffs, amused. “Swallow before you choke.” You make a show of swallowing, a big hearty gulp with your eyes squeezed shut. “And yes, I like it a lot. Your tastes are surprisingly refined.”
“Surprisingly?” You gape, offended.
Nanami wants to crack a quip, something referring to your sub-par taste in men, but this little get together was nice. Yeah, it was really nice, actually. So he refrained from ruining it like the asshole he’d been lately, and drowned the snide remark with another toss of coffee. “Sorry, sorry.”
The remainder of the evening was cushy; you both fell into easy conversation about the randomest of topics. Discussions that never breached corporate subject matter, and he was eternally grateful for that. You spoke in tangents, whistling appreciation for a new movie you caught recently, to describing a long list of bands you enjoy, to lamenting about the headache that your minty iced tea sprang upon you: “Ah, brainfreeze!” Nanami doesn’t add much to the conversation, but he is content to listen and provide little hums of encouragement to urge you to keep talking. His eyes, inquisitive honey-colored things, found your lips and stayed there. Despite the uncouth display in which you carry yourself ( Nanami had been itching to tell you to close your legs, what with the way you sit spread-thighed in your seat donning that dress. So careless and unabashed. If the cafe had been a little more crowded, had a little more men around, and he might’ve slipped his foot over the imaginary boundary line to your side underneath the table and nudged them shut himself ) there was an elegance in the way you spoke about topics of interest. Passion flourished from the little curve of your lips, teeth bared in a great smile because you really were just that happy. Nanami feels envious when he watches you.
“I’m shocked at how well this is going.” You grin cheekily, licking cream from the pad of your thumb. “Kind of makes me sad that we didn’t get off on the right foot, you know? I think we could've been good friends.”
“Is it too late for atonement?” Nanami bites back a frown. “I understand if you can never see me as anything other than an asshole. But I never got to formally apologize for my behavior these past few months, Y/n. And I’d like to, if you’ll let me.” Why was this humiliating? It was a seldom occurrence when Nanami was in the wrong, but he was never one to let his faults drift by unaddressed. You deserve an apology—a proper one, not over measly text messages. Still, he miscalculated how awkward this would be.
You flail. “A formal apology? Nanami please, a simple ‘I’m sorry’ will work. It doesn’t have to be a whole thing, I’m mostly over it anyway.” But that was a lie and an obvious one, at that. You weren’t over it, he could see it in your eyes.
The blonde clears his throat and rubs his hands together mindlessly. “No, please. It’s long overdue, and if we’re going to be working in alliance, then you deserve to feel secure with me.” Though Nanami’s hands wrench restlessly, his gaze never detracts from yours. He bares his sincerity in the intense eye contact, offering a peek into his soul. Vulnerability. “I’ve been nothing but rude and ignorant and vulgar towards you, ever since…”
“That night.” You finish for him. “It really upset you, huh?”
“Yeah, I guess it did.”
“Why? Do you have a revulsion to sex or something?”
“What? Wh—I—No, t-that’s not…” Nanami sputtered, his ears growing warm from your accusation. “I don’t… mind sex?”
You play with the dainty straw flouncing around your drink, seemingly oblivious to Nanami’s flummoxed reaction. “You seem to have a strong opinion of whores, though.”
He groans, embarrassed with himself, and drags a palm down his pallor face. “Who you choose to sleep with does not make you a whore. It never did, I was just being petty and grasping at straws for anything that would get a reaction out of you.” Nanami runs his tongue over the roof of his mouth, inwardly wishing that the mug of coffee before him would turn to water so he could cure the dryness that ached in his throat.
“Why go through the trouble?”
Nanami opens his mouth, then closes it. Then opens again, “I don’t know.”
A piss poor attempt at playing the fool. Surely there was a reason for his unabashed cruelty towards you, but what the fuck was it? “Well, when you figure it out, let me know?” To his utter surprise, your expression doesn’t hold an ounce of animosity; you’re smiling at him. Finding humor in any situation had to be your special talent. Nanami nods dumbly. “In the meantime, you’ll just have to start making it up to me. You were a dick, big time.”
“I know,” he says. “I’m sorry.”
“Hmmm,” you make a comical show of humming, touching your index to the point of your chin, and now Nanami knows you’re fucking with him. “Hmmm, hmmm, hmmm. I guess I can start the forgiving process if…” A pause for dramatic effect? The man raises his brows expectantly. “You and I make this,” you gesture between both bodies at the table, “a weekly thing.”
Nanami was expecting a punishment, but this suggestion was anything but. “I’ll need to take a look at my schedule first.”
“Listen, man, do what you gotta do. But I’m telling you, we are getting together at least once a weekend.” You scrub the corners of your lips with a napkin before crumpling it into a tight ball and discarding it on your empty plate. Nanami looks down at his own to see a healthy portion of his cake left. Wordlessly, he slides his plate across the table, and you accept the offering with open arms. “Oh shit, thanks! Like I was saying, this is fun, what we’re doing here. You’re having a good time, right?”
Sitting in a desolate coffee shop and listening to you prattle on has been the most fun he’s had in a devastatingly long time. “Yes, I am.”
“Good. You look fun-deprived.”
Fuck, I am. “I’m not.”
“Keep lying, I see through them all.” You scoop the last bite of Nanami’s cheesecake into your mouth, sighing with satisfaction and rubbing over your full tummy. “Anyway, I think hanging out would be good for us. Healthy, you know? Besides, I’ve been dying to know what off-duty Nanami looks like.”
He cracks a chuckle. “He’s nothing special.”
Your finger snaps in his face, invading his bubble of personal space, but this time he doesn’t shoo you off. “Another lie!”
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Currently obsessing over "Shadow and Bone"
Once I finish both seasons and start really getting into the books is over for everyone✨✨
Like this post if you’re in The Vampair Series fandom!
(I’m trying to find more people who love this series!)
I haven’t read The Stern Chase yet… but I know there is a wedding. I think it’s with Lydia and Ingvar but I could be wrong. So this is how I envision it going:
Ulf and Wulf are the flower girls. They twisted her arm until she let them.
Thorn acts as both the Father of the Bride and the Maid of Honor. He influenced Lydia’s life so much after what happened in her hometown.
Erak is the officiant. Since he is Oberjarl and is close to the Heron crew.
Jealous suitors of Lydia’s try to crash the reception. They are promptly knocked out.
Karina helps Lydia get ready. She is such a mother figure to her and I love their dynamic.
I will forever be furious that I didn't grow up on kingdom hearts and only first heard of it with the release of kh3 in 2019
Secret Life episode six being unhinged
[previous] [next]

Title: What’s Taking A Life or Two? (If It Means Getting to Keep You)
Pairing: Hanma Shuji/Female Reader
Word Count: 3.6k
Warnings: DC, MDNI AND BLANK/AGELESS BLOGS DNI! Reader illustrates past sexual assault/violence (non-con), and physical violence from her ex. Mentions of a scarification kink, definite manga spoilers if you even care at this point lol, night terrors, and hanma calls reader a c*cksleeve.
A/N: Sorry this took so long guys, I've already started working on the next one. Hoping to get things out sooner this next time around. Thank you to both @kentimestwo and @rosesandtoshi for looking over this piece <3
Part 7 (prev) / Master Post / Part 8 (here)

Nightmares are a norm for you; waking up in a cold sweat, tears falling down your temples and into your ears. Shuddering breaths and cottonmouth are familiar companions to your abrupt awakening.
When you were a toddler, you would cry out for your parents in the middle of the night when a nightmare ripped you from your sleep. Sometimes, if things were nearly petrifying, you would wake up wailing, screaming bloody murder, but you didn’t do that anymore. It had nothing to do with being stronger or older, but everything to do with the real life nightmare you had lived.
Matsumoto Souta is the paralysis demon in your dreams, and for a while you could keep him at bay. Hanma keeps your brain preoccupied. With him, you aren’t scared of someone kicking you until your ribs are broken or knotting their fingers up in your hair to use you like a rag doll. Except now, having seen him and been a victim of his antics once again, you’re thrashing in your sleep, screaming out as tears fall freely.
Hanma tries desperately to hold on to you, arms wrapped tightly around your body as he shouts your name over the sounds of wailing.
“You’re safe!” He yells. “I’ve got you, you’re safe!”
Slowly, through sheer force of will and repetitive words of calming affirmations, you settle in his arms with shuddering sobs.
“I’m sorry,” you croak, turning to face him. “S-so sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.” His hands are on your face now, brushing away the tear tracks as he lays next to you. “You have them too?”
You sniff. “Unfortunately.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“They hadn’t been that bad.” It isn’t really a lie. “The thrashing’s new.”
“Caught me in the chest with an elbow.” He’s smiling, but it upsets you. Before you can apologize, his fingertips cover your lips. “ Don’t .”
“Yes, sir.” You mutter instead, and then he replaces his fingers with his lips long enough to make your eyes flutter shut along with his. “A reward?”
Hanma hums. “For the prompt reply.”
The gentleness of the moment trickles down into one of quiet touches and soft kisses. The tranquility of the moment unlocks a hatch in your throat that locks away the name of the man you dislike with every fiber of your being. Hanma’s touch coaxes the heavy thing open.
“He talked about you.” You whisper, cracking an eye open to peer at him.
His eyes open. “Who?”
“Souta, um, Matsumoto. My ex. When I saw him at the party, he tried to use you to mess with me.”
“How?”
“He said we were a bad match.” You chuckle, and the sound makes you cringe. “And how you had a revolving door of women before me.” You swallow, hoping your spit lubricates the bone dry feel of your throat. “All those little cocksleeves squeezing the cum right outta him.”
“He said that?”
Your eyes meet his. “Yeah.”
Hanma smirks. “He isn’t wrong.”
“Fuck you.” With a grimace, you turn over to face away from him.
It makes him chuckle. “Come on,” he says, cuddling back up to you. “Is that all he said?” He kisses your shoulder.
“No.” You don’t elaborate.
“Are you mad at me now?”
“I don’t like you.”
“No,” he kisses your shoulder. “You don’t.” His hand slides across your bare stomach, tugging you back against him. “You love me though.” You feel his smile against your skin. “It’s alright, baby, you’re the only cocksleeve for me.”
It’s a joke. A tiny ribbing. But Souta’s words had dug up something you thought was deeply buried in dirt inside your chest, and the teasing made it feel like the muk was being tossed back in your face.
“He asked if you beat me for not sucking your dick like he did.” Any sort of movement or playful touch from Hanma grows still. “And he did, Shuji. He would slap me. Kick me. Rip my hair out of my head. Anything to make me cry or scream, he would do it.”
Your voice grows quieter as the words fall, and the wall you’re fixated on morphs. Images of someone black and blue with splatters of red across their body takes its shape.
“He’d collect money from some guys in the operation so they could watch me blow him. ‘Suck me off while they watch, stupid cunt.’” Your fingers curl into the sheets as your body tries to fold in on itself. “And when I’d say no—because I always said no—he’d start hitting me. Then he’d wait until I couldn’t resist anymore to force his cock down my throat.”
Hanma makes sure you’re finished speaking before working your body back open. His palm slides down along your thigh, pressing it down to straighten your leg out, then does the same to the other. Your hands are next—their curled up grip on the sheets and the pillowcase is loosened, gently and slowly. He eases you on your back and hovers over you, one forearm holding himself up as he gazes down at you.
“Do you remember what I said today?”
It takes a moment for your eyes to focus on him and the soft touches to your stomach. His eyes are gentle, but there’s a harsh edge to them. It isn’t directed at you, but someone else he can’t quite yet get his hands on. Still, the threat looms like a thundering cloud in the distance.
“Which part?” You ask.
“When I held your hand.” He takes it again, laying your palm flat against his chest. “What did I say?”
“You said they won’t touch me again.”
Hanma leans down, lips ghosting yours. He whispers, “Do you trust me?”
With a smile, your eyes slip shut. “Yes.”
“Good girl.”
Shuji’s kiss is sweet, and yet filled with destructive promise.

The next day sees an angry Haitani in the house. Rin comes over annoyed and complaining because he wasn’t part of the meeting with South.
“Can’t believe you didn’t have me sit in with you. Sanzu was there instead?” He scoffs. “He doesn’t even like you.”
“I don’t care if he does or not. Why are you upset?” You bunched your shirt up underneath your chest and your pants are down slightly. “I didn’t need an entire entourage there.”
Rin’s helping to change your bandage while Shuji’s out on other business. Despite his annoyance, he’s being kind. Sort of.
“This is gross.” You can practically hear the grimace in his words. “Have you seen this?”
“I’ve seen it in the mirror,” you sigh.
“Absolutely disgusting,” he says, while placing the new bandage over the nearly healed wound.
“Rindou, I’m seriously thinking about stabbing you in the back and seeing how pretty you look after.”
“Oh, I’d look fucking spectacular, Princess.” As you fix your clothes, you turn to see him smirking and his hands gesturing down his person. “Scars on this body? I welcome them.”
You scrunch your face up playfully. “Ew, is that a scarification kink? You fuckin’ weirdo.”
Rin gasps dramatically. “Are you kink shaming me?”
“Yes, Definitely.”
He laughs, ruffling your hair as he does. “It’s healing nicely. Get checked out again, ok? Don’t let it get infected.”
“Ah, Hanma’s been helping me with cleaning it. He’s been rather attentive.” You disappear into the Kitchen, Rin following close behind with the remnants of his first aid. “Lately, he won’t leave until he’s made sure I was taken care of.”
Rin dumps the old bandaging and washes his hands before slightly giggling to himself. “To think he’d allow me the honor of touching you.”
“Shut up,” you laugh, handing him a towel. “But I’m fairly surprised.”
He watches you with curious eyes as you fall into a thought formed from his kiss last night. Shuji’s eyes were different after you told him the abridged version of your grueling time with Matsumoto. When he left this morning, kissing you on the temple as he rushed out the door. You don’t know if it was to find Souta himself or if he found some kind of lead to the larger part of the situation.
A thumb is pressed between your eyebrows, and you blink back to the present.
“I can see the gears turning. What’s going on in that crazy head of yours?” Rin’s got the towel you handed him tossed over his shoulder as he smiles softly at you. “Do you think your husband in insanity is doing unspeakable things right now?”
“No, uh.” You shake your head, turning to the fridge to grab a bottle of water. “I don’t want him acting rashly on my account. He doesn’t think straight when he’s mad and,” you open the bottle, chugging the liquid down until it’s half gone. You exhale heavily. “And most of the time, it has to do with me.”
Rindou nods. “Come with me for a moment.” He throws the towel on the counter and grabs your wrist. “Let me show you something in the study.”
“What?”
He’s practically dragging you up the stairs and in through the heavy door that opens into the study you spend all of your time in. “There’s a box in here,” he says. “One Hanma locked up when he was younger.”
You’re plopped down in Hanma’s incredibly lavish, but horribly uncomfortable desk chair, and watch as Rindou roots around behind books. He mumbles to himself as he does, trying to find whatever box he’s referring to. Something you would have never sought because the thought of Hanma having an item he didn’t want anyone to see never crossed your mind. He had always been unabashedly open and forthcoming with all of his thoughts and feelings. What was so important about the contents of this box that he strayed from the normal path?
A loud noise of triumph comes from Rin as he pushes a fake piece of the wall to the side. Hidden behind a few large, leather-bound books is a medium-sized wooden box with a small metal latch on its front. There’s nothing special about it, nothing that stands out to you as a secret Hanma needed to hide. If Rindou hadn’t pulled it from inside the wall, you wouldn’t have thought twice about it and its contents.
He places it down on the desk in front of you. “Hanma got caught up in someone else before you.”
The words make your heart seize in your chest. “Another woman?”
“No, he’s never taken another woman as seriously as he has you.” He taps the top of the box. “Open it.”
“So it was a man?” You blink, processing, and then a slow smile appears on your face. “Interesting.”
Rin rolls his eyes. “No, that is not what I meant! Yes, it was a guy, but not like that.”
“Hey,” you shrug, flicking open the latch and slowly opening its lid. “I wasn’t judging.”
Inside the box are small mementos and wrinkled letters. A pair of shattered gold-framed glasses and an earring lay on top of everything. Gingerly, you set those two things aside on the desk and begin looking through the miscellaneous things underneath. Letters between friends, brothers, comrades–words exchanged before gang wars and secret plans. Things you would want no one to see, things you would not normally write in case they fell into the hands of the enemy. Things only teenagers would do.
After reading through the fourth letter of hurriedly written words, you look up. “What is all this stuff, Rindou?”
“It was kind of fucked up, honestly. Hanma explained things to us once he joined Bonten. Kisaki Tetta, the guy those things are from, made Hanma his servant, of sorts.” You look back down at the letters in your hands. The banter and camaraderie you’ve read in their words so far tells you something different. “I guess they became friends at some point,” Rindou runs his fingers through his hair, not understanding his own statement. “Because Hanma actually enjoyed the shit Kisaki had him do.”
You settle the letters neatly back into the box and pick up the badly broken glasses. “I’m assuming things didn’t end well for Kisaki.”
“Not at all. He manipulated Mikey, murdered his sister Emma, and tried to organize the murder of a woman who he was in love with because she didn’t love him.”
Your eyes go wide as his words continue. “How did, um–If Hanma had been part of Kisaki’s terror, then why…?”
“Why did Mikey let him in?” You nod. “Well,” he shrugs. “I’m sure you’re more than aware of how Hanma isn’t good at being on his own. Mikey figured if he added him to the fold, then he could monitor him.”
It makes sense. In the time you’ve been here, your role in Hanma’s life has always been one of a caretaker. Yes, he gave you a home, a roof over your head, but he initially kept you around to entertain him. To get rid of the boredom he’s never been able to keep it bay.
“Did Mikey kill him?”
Rindou shakes his head. “He died when we were teenagers.” He walks to the window and squints out into the brightness of the afternoon sun. “Hanma took a lot of hits for Kisaki, just to keep him out of harm's way. He was like a loyal dog, best friends, until the fucker got hit by a car.”
You gasp. “Holy fuck,” the earring and glasses are placed neatly back in the box. “Did Hanma see it happen?”
“No,” he says, turning back to look at you. “At least I don’t think so, but he saw him after it happened. A lot of broken bones, limbs twisted in odd positions. It fucked him up. He joined us after that.” Rindou walks back to the desk and takes the box from you to put it back where he found it. “I think he still visits his grave every year.”
The cuticle around your thumb is torn and bloody. Unconsciously, you’ve picked at the pieces of skin it burned. You take a deep breath in.
“Why did you show me this?”
“To show you how much Hanma Shuji cherishes someone, even after death.” His back is to you while he meticulously fixes the things he’s disturbed. “Most of us would kill someone for the person we love, but Hanma?” Rin turns around and his eyes anchor you in place. “Hanma would burn the world down for you, Princess.”
You remain quiet after that, unable to say another word. You’ve never had a conversation quite this serious with Rindou. It’s always been easy banter and nothing heavier than work. Looking at the adult in front of you, it’s hard to remember he–and everyone else in Bonten–had to grow up more than a decade ago.
“Hey,” Rin calls to get your attention. “I’m supposed to stay with you tonight. Kakucho’s coming by later, too.”
He sees it in your eyes that you already know. The inkling you had in the kitchen wasn’t so much of a simple ‘bad feeling’ anymore. You stand to look out the window and start to ring your hands.
“I’m scared,” you admit quietly, vulnerability clawing at your throat as you try not to cry. “I don’t like not being by his side.”
Rin places a hand on your shoulder, but you don’t look away from the orange sky.
“He’ll be alright,” he says.
“I hope so.” You nod, knuckles popping under the pressure of your own strength. “For everyone else’s sake, I hope so.”

“Can I ask you something?” You whisper, head on his shoulder while your fingers dance slowly down his chest.
“Hm?”
“When I was in the hospital, what were you thinking?”
It takes a minute for him to answer. To bend and morph words to fit into the shapes of his feelings. As someone that has always used his fists to speak, learning to articulate things verbally is proving to be a feat. He inhales deeply through his nose.
“I was angry… at your bedside, I said I hated you.” You remain quiet, wanting him to share whatever he will give you. “After being caught up on things, I was sitting there fucking livid. Thinking if I hadn’t been so fucking prideful and vindictive, then you wouldn’t have gotten hurt.” He audibly swallows. “What if you didn’t wake up? What if you died?” You drift your hand up, fingers stroking the column of his throat. “I didn’t sleep. I didn’t eat.” His arm wraps tighter around you, pulling you in. “If you didn’t survive, I wouldn’t have been too far behind you.”
“Well,” you press your cheek firmly onto his chest, turning to nip at the skin. “It sounds like you love me.”
A deep rumble rolls through his ribcage. “Does it now?”
“Mm, but that might be the leftover effects of the painkillers talking and, ya know, getting my hopes up.”
Hanma tilts your chin up and gazes at you. His eyelashes fan delicately against his cheekbones as he does. You smile softly, muttering a quiet ‘hi’ while he looks. After only slight hesitation, he kisses you languidly, tongue sliding between your lips briefly before he bumps his nose against yours.
“Maybe I do love you.”
Your breath hitches.
“Wouldn’t that be a treat?” Hanma kisses your forehead before letting you lie back on his chest. " Remember when you said you could kill me without hesitation?”
Hanma chuckles. “I also told you I wouldn't be lost without you.”
“Yeah, I remember.” You sit up, rearranging yourself to lay on top of him. He’s looking down at your widely grinning face propped against your crossed arms. “What happened to all that?”
“I’m a fucking horrible liar, sweetheart.”
His left hand smooths across your head as you now watch him. Over the years, you’ve learned what the distinct looks in his eyes mean. The boiling rage, the wild frenzy in a fight, the hard exterior, the sincerity. Except for right now. His eyes are relaying something unknown, something you’ve never been allowed to see.
“If you died-,” Hanma shakes his head. “If I lost you, it would devastate me.”
Realization hits. The emotion you haven’t seen before, the anxious movement of his eyes…
Hanma Shuji is afraid .

“Are you bored?”
Mochizuki is cleaning his empty bar. Shards of glass are still littering the floors of his establishment. Thankfully, they had already replaced the window earlier that morning. When he looks up, Hanma is standing behind the bar, fist around the neck of a bottle of bourbon, and sporting a smirk that long misses his eyes.
“Do I look bored to you, Hanma?” Mochi holds up his dustpan and broom. “I’m finding shards and slivers everywhere.” He dumps the glass in the nearby trash before meeting his uninvited guest behind the bar. “Did you snatch the key off our girl or what?”
“Didn’t even know she had a key. That would’ve been convenient.” Hanma raises an eyebrow while he pours both of them three fingers of the amber liquid. “I just busted the handle.”
“Man,” Mochizuki groans and takes the glass Hanma slides to him. “You’re lucky I don’t knock out a few of your teeth for that.”
“I wanted to ask you something.” He states, ignoring Mocchi’s comment completely.
“And what’s that?”
They circle back around to the front of the bar and sit on the stools. Both of them take a sip, allowing the alcohol to settle warmly in their chests and stomachs before one of them speaks again.
“You didn’t tell me how bad it was.” Hanma says in a low tone, side eyeing his companion.
Mochizuki is visibly confused. “How bad what was?”
“What that motherfucker did to her.”
“Ah, Matsumoto.”
“Who fuckin’ else, Mochizuki!?” Hanma’s voice raises with each word. The quietly boiling lava of his emotions now seeping out his cracked edges. “She told me the shit he did to her–how he forced her. How he beat her!”
“I didn’t know everything–still don’t. She didn’t share the details, but I had eyes. I saw the damage done to her. The bad bruising, the cast-,”
“The cast?” Hanma’s grip could fracture the glass in his hand if he squeezed hard enough.
Mochizuki nods, taking another long drink. “He fractured her wrist. I forced her to go to the doc.”
“Why didn’t you do anything?“
“I didn’t even know who the fuck it was. He never came here, and she never gave a name. But I had a few people fuck his shit up a few times.” He shrugs and swirls the bourbon around in the glass. Not caring when some sloshes out. “I’m guessing you want to kill him?”
“You guessed right.” Hanma knocks the rest back, hissing after he swallows. “If I didn’t think he’d get off on it, I’d fuck her right in front of him.”
Mochizuki snorts. “I don’t want to see that shit.”
“Who said you’d be there?”
“You’re fuckin’ stupid if you think I don’t wanna cut off an extremity or two.”
Mocchi looks over at him and grins. After years of knowing and working beside this man, Hanma likes to think he knows a few things. Like how when Mochizuki is working something over in his head, his eyes seem a little farther off and the muscle near the hinge of his jaw tenses to the slow rhythm of a heartbeat. If there’s a glass in his hand—and more often than not when they’re sitting at the bar, there is—his index finger is tapping against its lip every three seconds.
“Kanji,” Hanma says, tapping his own finger against the bar. “If you’ve got something to tell me, spit it out.”
“Alright, fine.” The larger man huffs. “What if I told you I already know where Matsumoto Souta is hiding out?”
Hanma smiles. “Why the hell do you think I’m here in the first place?” Mocchi raises his brow at an increasingly intoxicated and giddy Hanma Shuji. “Hanemiya Kazutora says hello!”
Mochizuki releases a full belly laugh. “I should’ve fuckin’ known!”

Tagging: @chickentendieboi @omiishii @heroineofcolor @hanayanetwork @touyasside @crown5 @onlyshinji
Jungkook
𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 | Masterlist

Wrong place, wrong time, right person.
Tags/Warnings: Alien!Jungkook, Human!Reader, dystopian AU, space/Sci-fi/cyberpunk-esque, Enemies to lovers, Angst, Violence, Drama, romance, adult, eventual smut
There is no Taglist for this fic.
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■: Full Chapters | □: Drabbles | ◇: Other sidecontent
■ Part 1: Hide me
□ Drabble 1
■ Part 2: Leave Me
■ Part 3: Helping Hand
■ Part 4: Not The Same
□ Drabble 2
□ Drabble 3 [slightly NSFW]
□ Drabble 3.5
□ Drabble 4
■ Part 5: Crossed Lines
■ Part 6: Acceptance
□ Drabble 5
⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅
→ pretty boy — a jeongguk drabble series

alternatively known as the jock!jk universe
drabbles in vague chronological order (more are likely to be added)
pretty boy au playlist 💞
Keep reading
Danny Phantom Headcanons on Ectobiology/Ectophysiology
Many believe that ghosts don't breathe, but they do. They use less oxygen, but they do still require it, otherwise, the ghost zone would not be safe for humans to venture into and live! Ghosts are not actually dead, they just have a different biology and a human may become a ghost in the afterlife if they have strong wills to not let go of their early ties, or it may be completely spontaneous, as the Infinite Realms are mysterious. Afterall, ghosts can procreate as evidenced in the series, so they have to be alive in some shape or form. Boxlunch was born a ghost, a child made of two different ghosts, thus ghosts are living beings because NO WAY can a ghost child just spontaneously arise from two ghosts if the ghosts are both supposedly dead beings. Little swimmers don’t work like that, and Boxlunch proves that it definitely isn’t an asexual kind of reproduction. Also, ghost blood is green not just because of its ectoplasm, but because ectoplasm has a complex makeup where the hemoglobin has a sulfur molecule on it, therefore giving the blood/ectoplasm its green tint. Rare in humans, but those who are more susceptible to taking up sulphur are more prone to becoming ghosts. Kind of like Sulfhemoglobinemia in humans. The iron is still there, but most of their hemoglobins utilize the sulfur, but the ghost zone still has a sufficient O2 supply for their cells that do still require iron and it's safe for humans to breathe. Like ghosts have extreme sulfhemoglobinemia and that’s why their skin tones tend to be ghastly blue/green/white. Ember’s blue flame hair is the result of burning sulfur in the zone. Sulphur is greenish in the ghost zone due to the chemicals it mixes with, chemicals not found in the human world, but not usually deadly or harmful to humans unless mixed with electricity or cola. Human intake of ectoplasmic air is actually beneficial and helps a person get their daily sulfur intake for their own cells. Sulphur is NOT in a gaseous form in the ghost zone. That’s why ghost zone air is a bit thicker. Also elevated levels of copper in their blood. Also, if they were dead, their physique would not change according to age/diet like in the future shown when Dan was present.



Bucky Barnes & Alexei Shostakov in What If...? Season 3 Trailer
best day ever. // myg.
pairing: Idol!Yoongi x Female!Reader {ot7 here too}
summary: The birth of your daughter is memorable for everyone, especially those who lived those last few days pregnancy with you...
words: 24k
warnings: pregnancy, child birth, child birth gone slightly wrong, mental health mentions, struggles of mental health, subtle mention of unaliving oneself, descriptions of anxiety/panic attacks, swearing, mentions of sex/alcohol, MDNI. If I missed anything PLEASE TELL ME.
a/n: This was supposed to be out, like, over a week ago. I apologize for being late, but this was a bitch to get out. I'm proud of it though, and so happy I could touch on this part of this couple's life. Unsure of how it got to be that long, but.... Enjoy. xo. Thank you for your continued support. Life has been hard lately. Stay lovely.

~ August 28th, 2021 ~
Warm water trickled down the length of your shoulders, soothing all of the aches residing in your back- upper and lower. Standing in the center of the shower with your eyes shut directly beneath the water that came down on you like rainfall, you take a long deep breath and let it out with a gravely sigh.
“I don’t wanna wash my hair,” you nearly whined, tipping your chin backward so some water could run over your face.
Taking a step forward rubbing your eyes, you pulled back the pastel blue curtain and peeked out into the steamy bathroom.
“Want me to do it for you?” Sunny smiled, glancing up from her phone where she sat on the floor with her legs crossed under her. Poking out your bottom lip you make her laugh. “Sit down, but let me help you.”
Pushing the curtain open a bit more, you stay put, waiting patiently for Sunny to grab onto your hand that you hold out for her. She took it with a gentle grasp, yet firm as she guided you to sit down on the smooth tiled floor of the shower, placing her other hand on your back to ensure you didn’t lose your balance.
Dressed in dark leggings that accentuated her curvy hips and a cozy cropped t-shirt, your best friend wasn’t the least bit worried if she ended up soaked after this. She’d been staying at your place for about a week now, helping out around the house, keeping an eye on you while Yoongi got his work done, and talking him off the ledge when he threatened to quit his job for you and his unborn child.
Growing up with you, experiencing teenagedom with you, celebrating each other's twenty-first together… Washing your hair for you while you’re stark naked on the floor of a shower nine months pregnant is not something Sunny wanted to miss. She was away for nearly seven of these glorious months, still filming with the Kardashians, so the moment she knew she had a month off she was booking her flight.
It was truly perfect timing- Yoongi had been away for almost an entire week at this point.
The date, the inevitable mark on everyone's calendar was approaching, speeding toward your boyfriend at a tumultuous speed while it seemed to inch by for you.
While you sat peacefully in the bathroom, surrounded by a warm, serene fog as Sunny gave you the best shampoo of your life, Yoongi was stuck in a constant state of panic though he knew you were well taken care of.
Articles upon articles were open in his phone's search history, spending whatever free time he had either calling you or Googling how ‘on time’ first born babies arrived. To his relief every Mommy Blog let him know he had nothing to stress over and that statistically most first born babies were late by a day, or five.
For your sake he hoped your little one wouldn’t wait too long, they just had to wait until he was home.
“You’re so much better than Yoongi,” you sighed, leaning toward Sunny who gave you a giggle. The pads of her fingers scrubbed your scalp vigorously, but with a massaging movement that only a skilled cosmetologist like herself could do.
Dragging the tips of her fingers down to the nape of your neck, she caught your head as it lulled backward into her palms.
“No sleep,” she said at attention, making you regain muscle control. “Wait until we’re out of here, then you can snooze wherever you want, babe.”
Sitting up as straight as you could you flutter your eyes open and blink a couple of times, gazing down at your legs that were tucked beneath you, half hidden by the belly you’ve come to know and love. Sliding your hand up your side and over top of your bump, you give it a careful push, feeling around for your baby and where they were wedged right now.
This morning when you woke up it felt like the little one had a foot in your ribs, letting you know they were hungry and they needed to have some nurungji that very moment or else they’d make you cry. Thankfully Sunny whipped some up… and you cried anyway.
Right now it felt as if the little babe was snug at the bottom of your pelvis, making you wonder if they knew that it was almost time for them to get out of there.
You were due in four days.
August 31st, 2021.
A little Virgo for your little family, one who was ready to send their Pisces father into a daily tizzy, and already doing so without even taking their first breath.
“Tilt back,” Sunny’s voice is soft as she guides your head backward into the warm water, massaging her fingers through your locks to make sure there weren't any bubbles left behind.
Feeling your eyes start to close, you told yourself you wouldn’t fall asleep as you mumbled, “What time is it?”
“Uh, almost ten? I think?” Sunny questioned herself, piecing her answer together based off of when she last looked at her phone, reading a message from Yoongi himself.
Taking a deep breath, you groaned, “He lands in a day.”
Sunny smiled to herself. “Yes he does.”
“Wish he was here now,” you said. Eyes fully closed, you listen to Sunny as she moves to turn off the shower, yanking the curtain fully open to help you out. “I’m too comfy,” you whispered, and she let out a single, boisterous laugh.
“Get your bare ass off the floor, you need to get in bed.” Sunny secured a solid grip on both of your hands and aided in hoisting you to your feet. With a wobble, you smile at her as your knees straighten.
Stepping out of the shower and into a towel that your best friend wraps around you, you fold your hands over your belly and take a long, deep, refreshing breath.
As much as you were ready for it to be over, you truly couldn’t believe that in four days or so, you were going to be a mother. A tiny little bouncing baby, boy or girl, was going to be living in your home, beneath your roof, growing up with your care, and your love. They were going to grow into their own person, someone you’d love no matter who they became, someone you’d support no matter what they chose to do with their lives, or their career.
You no longer felt afraid. The anxiety of having a child, being responsible for another being so tiny and fragile had passed. Now you’re excited, you’re ready for it to happen, and so is Yoongi.
That’s what makes this entire experience incredibly easy. Yoongi. He was the best part, the sugar on top, the icing on the cake. He’s half of your little one, you truly wouldn’t have made it through this without him.
He was really good at hiding his baby meltdowns, and Sunny was really good at keeping it a secret for your sake.
“Four days,” she smiled at you now, the two of you making it into your bedroom where she rifles some sleep clothes from one of your black dressers, tossing them onto the bed.
Dropping the towel into the hamper by the bathroom door, you bob your head and take your time, steadying yourself to slip each leg into the shorts Sunny chucked. Sitting down on the comforter you grab the t-shirt she chose and pull it over your head. It was loose fitted and lightweight, everything you’d been wearing since July began had been just that.
“Four days,” you sighed, pausing to catch your breath. It seemed like every action within the past week exhausted you. Since the third trimester began, actually, everything was exhausting.
The stairs were a nuisance, shoes were pointless, cooking was just too much- you were afraid to make a mistake, you knew you’d sob- cleaning was a procrastinated task, and easy things like washing your hair were simply not worth it. Unless one had a friend nearby with talented fingers, then washing your hair was at the top of the list.
Days ago, before Yoongi left, everything felt perfect. He took care of it all, the chores, the hair washing, the shoe fixing. Things still felt perfect, you were healthy, Sunny was here, and Yoongi was heading home soon… but, you wished he didn’t have to go in the first place.
The night before he left you cried in his arms, right here in bed, for almost a half hour. It completely broke his heart, leaving him feeling incredibly guilty.
You both knew it was coming. You both knew he was going to have to go get work done, the music world waited for no one, no baby. At the start of it all you sat down and mapped out the nine months and what would ensue afterwards. Adjustments could be made where needed, if allowed, and the other parts- like shows, and concerts- you were going to have to live with.
You’ll say it until the day you die, time apart from Yoongi was nothing new.
However, nine months pregnant with his child, insufferably in love with him, you longed for his arms.
“What’re you thinking about, love?” Sunny asked softly, popping a hand on her hip as she leaned on the edge of your mattress. She’d been sleeping in here beside you the past few nights, it felt like the old New York days, and you both loved it.
Shrugging your shoulders you feel your lip threaten to quiver, the corners slipping into a downward pout. “I want him here,” you whispered, sucking in a shaky breath. Trying to withhold tears was no match for raging hormones, the sobs came out quietly.
“Oh, sweetie,” Sunny cooed, moving to sit next to you. She wraps an arm around your back and pulls you in, resting her head on top of yours where you laid it on her shoulder. “I know you do,” she said, dragging a hand over your thigh with a comforting squeeze. “Couple more hours, one more day. I guarantee you, when he’s back he’ll be here for not even five hours, and you’ll be begging me to get rid of him.”
Laughing, you sniffled and said, “He is really overprotective isn’t he?”
Sunny’s eyes go wild. “Girl, I don’t know how you do it. I send this man updates on the hour, every hour, and if I’m a minute late he’s hounding me!”
Tilting your chin up to give her a look, you raised a brow and smized, “Is that why Jin’s your little secret?” Sunny glanced down at you with pointed eyes.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” her tone is hushed. Laughing again, you pick up your head and nudge her with your elbow.
“Whatever you say, Sunita,” you shook your head to which she scoffed.
“Don’t full name me,” she said in a sarcastic offense.
“Listen, alls I’m saying is the two of you really have the ‘I don’t do relationships, but I like you, so I’ll keep you close, but you can also live your life, and do your job, and no matter what we’ll always be each others, but we won’t hold each other back’ thing down. Props to you.”
Her jaw dropped somewhere in the middle of your remark. You read her like a book, but she wouldn’t expect anything less.
“Shut up,” is all she managed to say with a hidden smirk.
Pulling away from you, Sunny crawled up your cushiony mattress to pull down the covers, ushering for you to get beneath them. Following orders you slip your bare leg under the sheets and roll to your side before laying down on the pillows. Your best friend covers you with the comforter and leans over you to press a quick smooch to your forehead.
“Are you gonna sleep here?” you asked quietly. Your eyes begged her to stay, not entirely sure you were ready to be alone for a night or not. Sunny wasn’t ready for bed, not yet at least, but it didn’t mean she couldn’t slip in beside you once she was.
With a small pout she barely reacted and said, “Let me go clean the kitchen and straighten up, okay? Close your eyes, and try to get some sleep.”
“Don’t forget about me,” you mumbled as she shifted off the bed over to the door where she flipped off the light, leaving you in a strip of warm yellow glow from the doorway.
Propping a hand on her hip Sunny sighed with a smile. “Never. Now, rest.”
Two o’clock in the morning. August 29th, 2021.
A black SUV pulled up in front of the house with its headlights off. In the backseat, with his hands over his eyes, bouncing his leg anxiously sat Yoongi. The moment the car was put into park he reached for his phone and sucked in a breath, dialing for Sunny. She doesn’t even need to answer the phone, an alert is all that’s required, and she followed the directions she was given and she opened the front door.
He was home early, and you had absolutely no idea. Once he found out when he was leaving he arranged it with Sunny straight away. He’d surprise you.
As much fun as it was pulling it off, it didn’t take away the bouts of panic he had daily whenever you’d call, making him assume you’d gone into labor, or something baby related. Even on the plane, he couldn’t eat, he couldn’t sleep, not when he wasn’t going to be able to be in contact with anyone for countless hours. For all he knows you could have birthed the entire child while he was in the air.
After he landed, however, Sunny calmed him and let him know you were showering and heading to bed without a single suspicion that you were going to get to see him tonight instead of having to wait a whole other day.
Getting out of the car, well, leaping out of the car, Yoongi bounded up the front stairs to your home and tossed his arms around Sunny for not even half of a second. He’s a total blur to her from the moment he gets out of the vehicle all the way to him dashing up the twisting stairs inside your quiet home. Sunny takes it upon herself to help Branson, the security guard who accompanied Yoongi home, bringing his belongings inside.
He doesn’t speak one word to anyone, and Branson tells Sunny that he had been silent the entire ride home. With his stomach in knots, how was he supposed to pretend to enjoy small talk?! All Yoongi wanted was to have you in his arms. That alone would alleviate his chest pain.
Approaching your bedroom with caution, Yoongi trembled with excitement. Time away from you crushed him, especially now. While you would tell him that time away was normal, and that the two of you handled it like rockstars, he was repulsed by the idea of it every damn time. He wished he’d never have to leave your side.
The door was open a bit, Yoongi assuming Sunny left it this way for your sake, so he tapped it with a finger, pushing it open some more. In the glow of the hallway light he spies your sleeping figure beneath the sheets, on your side of course, with a pillow behind your back for support. He can’t see it, but he knows there’s one between your knees as well. You’ve needed that since the twenty week mark.
Surprised you didn’t stir at the slight creak of the door, Yoongi took two steps into the bedroom and paused. At this point he figured you’d be able to smell him, and you’d wake up. But, you didn’t. You were sleeping soundly, thankfully. Taking a few more steps to the side of the bed, he pouts at the sight of your lashes fanning your cheeks. Your breaths were slightly shallow as your chest rose to accompany each one. A hand rests over your belly beneath your shirt, a hand that Yoongi wanted to be his.
In another flash, he was hitting records tonight, he changed out of his airport clothes and carefully got into bed next to you. The mattress sunk as he moved closer to you, something to finally signal to you that you weren’t alone.
“Knew you…” you begin, opening your eyes a bit to peek at who you thought was Sunny. Your voice trails off when you’re greeted by the smiling face of your boyfriend with a tear slipping down his cheek. “What the fuck?” you mumble, sitting up on your elbow. Rubbing your eyes with the hand that lived on your belly, you blinked many times and sighed.
“Hi,” he said quietly, his bottom lip crinkling the slightest.
Overwhelmed, the only thing you can do is burst into tears and reach your arms out to grab him. A soft laugh escaped him as he buried himself in your chest, slinging an arm around your back. Tangling a hand in his hair, you cling the other to the back of his t-shirt and hold him tight. So tight it’s as if you want to occupy the space he was taking up.
“D,” you mumbled, brushing your nose over his hair, pressing a kiss to his head that he lifted up to smile down at you.
“Hi, baby,” he whispered, touching his nose to yours. Tears welled in his eyes, the sight made you cry again. Yoongi takes a hand to your cheek to wipe away the tears, laughing again. “I thought you’d be happy to see me,” he teased.
Sniffling, you take a quick breath and sobbed, “I am happy, this is happy. You don’t think I’m happy?”
“Okay, okay,” Yoongi smiled, pinching your cheek gently, placing a tiny kiss to the tip of your nose. “I know.”
“I missed you so much,” you whispered, tightening the grip you had him locked under. Yoongi, well aware of the pregnancy super strength, let it happen no matter how much it kinda hurt. He had to make up for the week he missed, and if he got all the hair pulling done in one night, it was worth it.
He had been working like a dog for the past week, being pressed to you was enough to make him instantly sleepy. His anxiety seemed to alleviate the longer he laid here pressing kisses to your cheeks. Brushing a hand through your damp hair, he pauses and looks at you.
“Did Sunny wash your hair?” he asked with a smirk. Having calmed down, you pressed your lips together and gave him a funny look.
“Yeah,” you said. “You jealous?”
“A little bit,” he whispered to your surprise, making you laugh. “I missed doing things for you.”
“Surely you did not miss washing my hair and helping me stand up after I pee,” you giggled, relaxing your grip on his hair to his relief. Yoongi’s eyes go wide.
“I did,” he said with his chest. “I really, really did. Helping you stand up after you pee, putting your hair up for you, taking your socks off, shaving your armpits, massaging random spots on your back ‘cause it hurts-”
“D!” you shouted, rolling your head backward. “I get it!”
“Do you?!” he laughed, kissing your cheek seven times. Taking a deep breath, you hold him carefully and nod.
“I do,” you sighed. Yoongi pulled back and gazed down at you.
“Hm, I like the sound of that,” he mumbled, then pressed his lips to yours fiercely.
~ August 29th, 2021 ~
Peaceful, homey chatter mixed with the upbeat melody of the music playing from the speakers on the wall filled the kitchen. It was half past ten in the morning, the sun was up and blazing down, keeping everyone locked indoors. At the white marble island in the center of your kitchen, you sat in one of the high top chairs on the end beside Yoongi with your feet crossed over his lap while he had his nimble fingers clamped to your ankles, working meticulously to ease their swelling in any way that he possibly could.
Popping the last strawberry from the plate on the counter into your mouth, you savor the sweet, tangy flavor and flutter your eyes shut with a sigh. From your boyfriend's massage to the heightened wonderful taste on your tongue, you’ve never felt more elated.
Sunny was across from you with her elbows on the marble, leaning over toward Yoongi, asking him endless questions about his trip and work. You heard every other word he said. The feeling you were experiencing right now made you want to crack a, ‘Yeah, sex is cool, but have you ever eaten a fresh, crisp strawberry while your hunk of a man massages your swollen pregnancy cankles?’ joke.
For a second you begin to wonder if you’ve actually said it out loud because the two of them laugh. Darting your eyes open you question them with a quirk of a brow.
Sunny’s charming smile finds you first. “This is what I’ve been trying to achieve for a week.”
“What?” you muttered, your glazed over eyes pointing to Yoongi.
His black hair was parted in the middle, sweeping over his dark eyes like a summer's breeze over a field of flowers. The clear, pale skin of his cheeks seemed so soft it made you want to reach out your hand and touch him. He wore a white t-shirt that clung to his chest, defining every muscle, or lack thereof, beneath it. Appearing calm, happy, and proud, his eyes spoke another language. One you were all too familiar with. Or so you thought.
“Baby?” Yoongi asked, and it pulled you out of your thoughts. They had been talking to you the entire time you were drinking in his beauty.
Taking a deep breath, you glanced back and forth between him and Sunny and mumbled, “Wha- Huh?”
The two laugh at you, again.
Unsure as to why they were ganging up on you when you had done absolutely nothing wrong, you kicked your feet off of Yoongi’s lap as his hands had just started to slide up your shins, and sighed heavily.
“Hey, what’s the…” Yoongi began, eyeing you as you slid off your chair, wobbled onto your feet and started to circle the counter. “Baby,” he whined. “Come back.”
A snicker escaped Sunny.
Hearing it from behind her back made it sound utterly condescending. Next to her now, you shoot your boyfriend a glare after you find him giving your best friend a smile. They were literally plotting together and you were standing right here.
“This has also been happening all week,” Sunny mumbled, and you’re not sure whether or not you were supposed to hear it. Either way, it makes Yoongi bob his head with sympathy. As if you asked Sunny to be here, to take care of you while you suffered through the end of this emotional rollercoaster. She brought herself here, you didn’t ask.
Snatching the empty plate, just barely reaching it with your fingertips (your belly not allowing you to move closer), you grit your teeth.
Yoongi muttered something that sounded a lot like, “...almost done…” and it sunk your heart to your knees. Turning away from the counter quickly, you shut your eyes as tears begin to form, and then the next best thing occurs to add to this joyous moment of betrayal.
The plate you grabbed slipped from your fingers, frisbeeing to the hardwood floor in front of the stove, shattering into a thousand pieces. The sound was scary enough to make one jump, and then make you realize you really had to pee, but now you were trapped between Sunny and the ceramic shard minefield.
“Don’t move,” Yoongi scrambled to his feet fast, the sound triggering him to quite literally slide over the counter top on his bottom, landing on his feet behind you. Wrapping an arm around your shoulders, the feeling of his skin on yours makes the tears that were already falling immensely worse. In his grip everything felt okay, but only for a second.
“Here,” Sunny appeared in a flash, having hurried away for a broom that was kept in the closet by the winding staircase in the foyer. “Let me clean this up.”
Yoongi guides you away from the mess, kissing you delicately on the cheek. “Are you okay? You’re not hurt, right?”
Shaking your head back and forth seemingly violently, you sniffled and sobbed, “I gotta pee.” Yoongi laughed, to your dismay. He ushered you toward the bathroom though, shutting the door behind the two of you.
Sliding his hands around your waist to the elastic band that hugged your bump, you smacked them away even though you were squeezing your knees together. Yoongi pulled back, raising his hands in the air like he was being held at gunpoint, and judging by your glare, one would say that he actually was.
“Baby, you’re-”
“I can do it,” you bite, helping yourself, dropping the shorts you wore to bed around your ankles. “Turn around.”
“Are you serious, I’ve seen-”
“Turn around!”
Hushed, he said, “Okay,” folding his hands in front of himself. Adjusting his stance, he stared at the white wood of the bathroom door instead of you, his pregnant girlfriend. His pregnant girlfriend who was due in three days. His pregnant girlfriend who was due in three days, who couldn’t sneeze without peeing, who couldn’t sleep for longer than two hours at a time, who he had left for a week and just came back and ruined a fantastic morning because he was laughing at you with your best friend…
You were crying again. Sitting on the toilet, having done your business after yelling at him, you were crying.
Rocking on his heels a bit, Yoongi glanced over his shoulder, but kept his gaze pointed down. “Are you okay?”
Wiping your cheeks with your palms you shudder through a breath and shake your head. “I can’t stop crying,” you whispered.
“That’s okay,” Yoongi said. “You’re allowed to cry.”
His words warm your heart, but don’t give you enough comfort, because you remembered you tossed that plate across your kitchen. And you broke it. And it shattered into a billion pieces. And then Sunny cleaned it up. Your mess. She cleaned up the mess that you made.
Out of everything you’ve come to experience within the nine months of your pregnancy, sobbing hysterically on the toilet with your boyfriend turned away from you was not on the bingo card. The internet and the books warned you about everything else, every possibility, every event, every change, but they never said anything about this. This had to be an original experience, one that maybe you’d share one day in hopes that someone else has hysterically sobbed on the toilet with their significant other in the room.
Thinking about it all, the entire morning, the last five minutes, it all seemed so small. The little one you carried was the reason it all appeared to be a giant, huge, big deal.
“Do you want to talk about it?” was all Yoongi needed to say to break open the floodgates.
“I was fine, it was all fine, until you guys laughed at me, I mean, I wasn’t even…” An abrupt pause of a deep breath is ripped between nearly every phrase as you power through your lament. “I wasn’t even doing… doing anything! I was just sitting there, what was so funny? It hurt my feelings. And Sunny laughed at me again, and you… you smiled at her like what she said was, like, right, or something! Like… I inconvenienced her into coming here, and I was, I was mean or something? I don’t even remember…”
Yoongi listened with a frown, biting onto his bottom lip to keep a smile to himself. He was well aware of the hormones in the room. If you weren’t carrying his child a laugh in your direction wouldn’t bother you the slightest.
“And, and then,” a sniffle, “And-then-I-threw-the-plate-and-I-didn’t-mean-to,” your words strung together, “I yelled at you, and now I. Can’t. Stand. Up!”
Yoongi swallowed another smile. “Can I turn around now?” he asked gently, asking for permission as nicely as he could to not set off another sob bomb.
“Please,” you whispered, holding up your hands for him to take when he turned to face your tear stained cheeks. Keeping his expression clear of any emotion, he cradles your hands in his and helps you up. He even fixed your clothes for you and dropped a pump of soap in your hands, turning the sink water on to a comfortable temperature.
Standing behind you, he gives you a smile in the mirror, one you attempt to return now that you’ve stopped crying. Analyzing your own appearance you’re not surprised to find your eyes red and a little puffy, cheeks glistening like no other. Looking back at your boyfriend's reflection, he looked like he did in the kitchen. Beautiful. You’ve been without that beautiful face for a week. You wanted nothing more than for him to hold you, and for some reason he wasn’t doing it.
Turning toward him, he copies your pout.
“What do you need, my love?” he asked softly.
You didn’t want to say it, he should know. You didn’t want to tell him, because you were still mad at him for laughing at you. You didn’t want to say it and seem weak, not if he and Sunny were going to play mind games.
That thought alone threatened to make you cry for the millionth time.
So you gave in. Holding out your arms, you close your eyes and beckon him closer, feeling the warmth of his body surround you in milliseconds. He stepped into your embrace quickly, taking you in his arms carefully, yet passionately, holding you against his chest tight enough that you could feel his heart beating.
It’s quiet for a minute or two, you’re not sure, you didn’t count, you wanted to stand here like this for hours. It was quiet, it was peaceful, and you loved him too damn much.
“I’m sorry I laughed,” he said after a while, one of his hands smoothing over your lower back. “I’m sorry I hurt your feelings. You looked adorable, I couldn’t help myself, honestly.
You listened with content, allowing his words to heal the crack in your heart.
“You’re always adorable, you’re always beautiful, but I swear,” he paused, lifting his head to rest his forehead against yours, “I’ve never seen you glow the way that you have been these past couple of months.”
Flickering your eyes to his lips, a smile tugs at your own. “That means it’s a boy.”
Yoongi furrowed his brows, continuing to speak so quietly, keeping the words trapped between your bodies. “What d’you mean?” he asked, his tone rushed.
“Yanno,” you shrugged slightly, then utter quietly, “Girls take away all the pretty, apparently.”
Processing what you’ve just said, Yoongi held in a chuckle for your sake and instead said, “Impossible. You’ll always be pretty. She didn’t take anything.”
A small gasp escaped your lips. “You think it’s a girl?” Your eyes gleamed in admiration.
Yoongi grinned. “I think it’s a girl,” he whispered.
“Me too.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” you sighed, tightening your grip on his back. “I didn’t want to say anything, though. I know we don’t wanna make assumptions.” Yoongi’s eyes widened, and if he could, he would jump up and down.
“Fuck it, let’s assume, I’ve thought it was a girl since January,” he said.
“What!” you half-shriek, giggling in his arms. “Since January!? She wasn’t any gender in January!”
Yoongi’s smile grew, if that was even possible. “You just said ‘she’.”
“Did I?”
“You did.” His eyes were mischievous.
“Shit, I did,” you breathed. The look on his face made you want to melt into a puddle on the tiled floor beneath his feet. “You wanna be a girl dad?”
Parting his lips to speak, he snapped his jaw shut instead, pressing his lips together tight. His eyes flicker between yours, the light within them sparkling with the glow of a thousand stars.
Voice soaked in sappy sweetness, Yoongi whispered, “Yeah… I wanna be a girl dad.”
“Guess we’ll find out soon,” you grinned, nuzzling your nose against his.
“In like… two days.”
“Two days.”
“How’re you feeling?” he asked, taking a glance at your belly that was pressed to his middle.
“Do you want me to be honest, or do you want me to sugar coat it?” you lifted a brow to make him laugh, his hands swimming along your back.
After a quick peck to your nose, he whispered, “Be honest. Always.”
“I’m over it,” you sighed, getting another laugh out of him. The sound wrapped around your heart and squeezed it tight, threatening to make you cry again. “I mean, I just want her here so we can meet her.” Yoongi’s smile softened as he nodded. “Would also love it if she’d stop standing on my bladder.” You laughed together now, Yoongi scooping your cheeks in his hands to plant a kiss to your lips.
“But,” you mumbled, your voice vibrating against the plush pink lips that cradled your own, “I don’t feel like she’s coming anytime soon.” Yoongi pulled away not even an inch to eye you curiously. “She dropped a little, I think,” taking one of his hands, you pressed it to your belly to show him where your little one was laying, “But, she’s comfy. I feel normal.”
A mischievous smirk graced his lips. “Bet I can get her out,” he smized. Dropping your chin as your cheeks flushed, you huffed a laugh and couldn't hold back your smile. Taking a finger to your jaw, your boyfriend lifts your eyes back to his and gives you a small kiss. “I also, selfishly of course, need you.”
Now the tears were a thing of the past. Crying was so five minutes ago.
Yoongi, trailing behind you, chuckled as you just about barreled past him into the kitchen. The floor was clean, as were the counters, like the three of you weren’t occupying this space mere moments ago. Sunny was missing, and though your heart tightened at the thought of her leaving, one glance to your boyfriend checking your phone, then shooting you a devious look made your knees buckle.
“Where…” your voice trailed off. Taking to your back, Yoongi wrapped an arm around your front, gripping your shoulders, walking you toward the stairs. His lips caressed the valley of skin exposed to him below your neck, emitting a low groan from his chest as your head lolled back onto his shoulder.
“Airport,” he answered your unfinished question, gently nipping at the skin his teeth grazed over. “Jin’s here. They won’t be back for a couple hours.”
“And… and then,” you sighed heavily between your words, Yoongi’s lips melting your brain to absolute mush. You weren’t sure you were going to make it up the stairs. You were over pregnancy, like totally ready for it to be done, but you were really going to miss how it heightened everything you felt. “Then… We’ll be the ones who have to leave…”
He chuckled at your breathlessness, kissing your cheek. “They’re totally hooking up, aren’t they?” Your eyes shot open.
“Of course they are, D,” you scoffed. “And so are we,” you grabbed his hand, regaining your balance as best as you could, tugging him to the steps, “If I make it upstairs.” Yoongi pulled you back for a half of a second.
“Couch, babe, if you don’t wanna do the stairs,” he offered, gesturing in the direction of your living room. Glancing to the room with a pout, you shift the puppy dog eyes over to him and sighed dramatically. Your pregnancy speciality. “What?” he hid his laugh of admiration for your emotions sake.
Placing a hand over the back of your hip, you whined, “I can’t lay there, hurts my back.” Your twisted brows make it impossible for him to hide his laugh this time. “I’m sorry!” you attempted to laugh with him, dropping half your body weight onto him. “That’s so not sexy, I’m sorry, oh my god!”
Sliding his arms around your waist with a grin, Yoongi takes you in his arms and digs his fingertips into the spot of your lower back you had grabbed. With your arms circled over his shoulders, you run your fingers through his hair and tangle your digits in the waves. His nimble fingers pressed into the curve of your hip delicately, but with purpose, working out any kink that was causing you pain.
His lips brushed over your cheek, your ear. A warm, gentle breath fanned over your neck, the exposed skin erupting in chills as if it weren’t the end of August. “You could say anything… And, I mean anything… And I’d still want you. Sexy, or not.” A sigh escaped you as his fingers dug deeper into your muscle. “I stand by what I said, I’ve never seen you look more beautiful than you do right now.” The sigh turned into a groan, your lips parting as relief flooded your being. “That feel good?” he whispered to you, kissing your temple.
Tightening your grip on him to not completely collapse, you nod your head, a quiet moan slipping past your lips. “S-so good.”
Yoongi laughed, breathlessly, mumbling a soft, “If we go upstairs I can do so much more.”
“Bet,” you said, pushing away from him, taking yourself over the stairs.
Hurrying after you, Yoongi laughed, placing his hands on your back to help you up the dual level steps. “Did you just say bet?”
“Sure did,” you said, completely serious, huffing with each step. Pausing halfway through your ascent, you turn to him and grip his cheeks between one of your hands, fingers squishing his lips into a pout. Tired already, you take a deep breath and scowl. “You get her out, you hear me?”
He attempted to smile, and said, “I promise,” muffled by the grip you had him held under.
~ August 30th, 2021 ~
The house was quiet. It had been all day.
Even with Sunny and Jin beneath the same roof, it was quiet.
Waking up this morning was easy. Simple. Of course it wasn’t even past four o’clock, but you got up with ease and tiptoed quietly into your baby’s nursery without even knowing Yoongi had barely slept at all. His tired eyes watched you sneak off, his awareness concealed by the soft morning light that leaked through the curtains. Rolling onto his back he folded his hands over his chest and waited for you to come back, wondering where you crept off to, and when it took longer than ten minutes for you to return, he got up to find you, hoping you had fallen asleep elsewhere. He had felt your restlessness all night.
Taking to the hall quietly, Jin and Sunny still sound asleep in the guest room, Yoongi stepped into the nursery knowing there was no way in hell you’d want to go all the way downstairs without anyone to lean on. Sliding himself into the half cracked door, his lips twisted into a soft smile when he found you elbow deep in one of the little’ ones drawers, reorganizing the clothes for the umpteenth time.
This was the third time he’s seen you do it since he’s been back home. Sunny let him know you’d been messing with the nursery all week, unable to leave things alone. Hell, even before he left for work you were starting to go a little stir crazy, but he knew you couldn’t help it.
Taking a deep breath to make himself known so he wouldn’t scare the pants off of you, you still whirled around with a gasp, clutching your belly and squeezing your legs together. “Jesus, D! You want me to pee!?” His smile grew.
“Sorry,” he said quietly, taking slow steps to your side, gazing around the nursery with a warm glow in his eyes. “I can’t get over how cute it is in here, you did a great job.”
“You helped me,” you raised your eyebrows, holding open your arms so he’d take you within his. Slipping his arms under yours, he tapped the open drawer behind your back to shut it, then planted his hands on your backside.
With a glance over your shoulder, you frowned. “No, I wasn’t done,” you mumbled. Following your gaze, Yoongi kept his eyes on yours, settling his brows on his forehead.
“It’s perfect. It’s all perfect,” he whispered. “I promise you.”
Scrunching your face, you look at your boyfriend and bite your bottom lip. You were sick and tired of crying, but there was nothing you could do to stop it from happening. The tears fell quietly. Burying your face in his neck, Yoongi lets you cry. He doesn’t say anything to make it stop, he doesn’t fill you with words you’ve heard many, many times before, he just lets it happen.
A soothing rub of his hand on his back seems to keep you somewhat calm, and the way he took his own deep breaths triggered you to do so as well, to not get yourself too worked up. You felt insanely guilty. Here you were, the day before the estimated date of your child's arrival, and you were sobbing, clinging to your boyfriend who had only been home for about forty eight hours, and you’d been crying for half of those hours.
To be fair, you had tossed and turned all night because the pain shooting up through your back was excruciating. Yesterday you had told Yoongi you felt normal, like your little one wasn’t going to be on her way for a while, but the moment you got into bed for the night the soreness in your back seemed to grow tenfold.
To make matters worse, the back pain was accompanied by a cramping you hadn’t felt in months, and you did not miss that feeling. You felt like you were back in the beginning of your pregnancy, you were tired, you were nauseous, you were cramping, you were restless, you were so many things wrapped into one that you didn’t know what else to do besides move the baby’s clothes around again.
The waiting game was excruciating.
But, if the internet was right, all the discomfort you were feeling meant your little one was almost here.
“I don’t feel good,” you mumbled against Yoongi’s shoulder. “I haven’t felt good for days, Yoongi.” The full name hit him in the heart, and it hurt. Not because he didn’t like to hear you say it, but because that’s how he knew you were in pain. The shaky breath he sucked in made your tears fall faster.
“I know, my love,” he breathed, cradling you tight. “You’re almost there. I’m so proud of you.” He planted a kiss on the top of your head. “You’ve been doing so well.” The gentle praises seemed to have calmed you down some, so he continued. “This nursery is beautiful, baby. So beautiful, ‘cause of you. You did all of this, I just put the furniture together.” A small laugh came from where you laid. Lifting your head to flash him your teary eyes, he pursed his lips and wiped your cheeks clean with his thumbs. “So pretty.”
Offering him a smile, you tip your chin forward to kiss his lips. Your hand slid up his shoulder, his left shoulder. Giving it a decent squeeze you drop your gaze to it and work your fingers into it gently. Yoongi doesn’t say a word, instead his eyes flutter shut and a breath slips through his lips.
“You been okay?” you asked. Yoongi cracked his eyes open. The look he gave you made you laugh.
“Don’t worry about me.”
“I always worry about you,” you whispered.
The air between the two of you swirled with moments of your past, a thousand and one memories surrounding you, drowning you in the depths of nostalgia. Standing here together in the room you put together for your child, you’re reminded within the silence of the years the two of you have braved together.
You’ve seen Yoongi hit his absolute lowest points, and you’ve gotten him back up on his feet. He’s seen you do just the same, and he’s fought for you every time.
Recounting the moments where you’ve had to set aside your own troubles so that you could hold onto him, to make sure he didn’t leave you in this life alone, you can’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude that he was here standing before you, holding onto you. He was everything. The sun, the moon, the stars, whatever the cheesy shit is that people in love gush about… It was him, he was everything.
Amidst your whisper you realize he can see straight into the grinding gears of your mind, reliving it all with you in his arms. In this crazy, whirlwind life he’s seemed to have lived the equivalent of thirty, but none compare to the one he’s created with you. Because of you.
He never once dreamed of what he has now, until he met you. His career, this home you’ve built together, this child you were about to bring into the world, his joy… His life. He owed it all to you.
Inhaling deep, Yoongi bobbed his head a smidge, acknowledging everything. The two of you rarely got sappy with one another, you were both the type to feel what you had to feel then move on, but in the middle of a nursery about to birth a child you would share, it felt right this time.
“I love you,” he whispered.
Pressing a kiss to his lips, you lingered there for a moment. “I love you, too.”
Mere hours later, Yoongi had you camping on the couch. After the moment in the nursery he had brought you downstairs where you got comfy on the sofa, curled up with a blanket and finally shut your eyes. Once he knew you were snoozing he set himself up on the adjacent couch with his laptop and got some work done.
He’d get this third album out eventually. At some point. By the end of this year, hopefully. Although, that was coming quick… He just kept telling himself it wouldn’t take three years to put this project together. But, it’d already been a year since he started…
“What goes on?” Sunny’s voice whispered from the archway. Her natural bouncy curls were out and about as she peered into the living room, nodding toward your sleeping being. Yoongi, sleepy eyes illuminated by the screen of his computer, takes a long, overdue deep breath.
Pushing the screen down with a single finger, he leans forward over his folded knees and takes you in. “Need it to be over,” he mumbled. Sunny shifted where she stood, unsure of how to question him further. “She’s gotta have the kid tomorrow, Sun, I don’t know what we’re gonna do if she goes any longer.”
A soft hum comes out of her as an answer, seeming to agree with him.
“Would she sleep when I wasn’t here?” he asked, feeling like he already knew the answer. Sunny shrugged.
“Barely, I mean, she was so uncomfortable, she is uncomfortable.”
Screwing his brows together Yoongi shook his head. “She’s… not okay. As much as she tries to convince us that she is, she’s not.” Sunny pouted her fuller lips and nodded. “But, fuck, she’s killing this pregnant thing.”
A breathless laugh came out of your best friend. “Hell yeah, she is. Prettiest pregnant person I’ve ever seen.” Yoongi laughed with her.
“Yeah, what’s up with that?” he perked a brow.
Sunny’s smile relaxed into something soft as she eyes the curve of your belly beneath the blanket. With another shrug she said, “She’s happy.”
With the intent to slip away to make herself a cup of coffee now that it was nearing half past eight in the morning, Sunny turned around into a pair of warm, welcoming arms that pulled her close, holding her tight. Never seeing the two interact so intimately before, Yoongi’s eyes widened curiously, smirking, but only because Jin assumed they were down here alone.
“Good morn-“ the man who shared his height with Sunny began with a sultry smile. That is until he caught Yoongi perched on the couch over his lover's shoulder. “Hey!” Jin hasn’t reacted to anything this fast in his entire life, the arms recoiled in milliseconds. Scanning the room with a brief glance, taking it all in, acknowledging that everyone was present, he slipped his tongue between his lips and bobbed his head.
Turning to the woman in front of him, Jin holds out a hand to politely, yet hilariously, shake her hand, muttering a, “‘Sup.”
Shooting Yoongi a glare while wearing a smile, Sunny rolled her eyes and took herself into the kitchen, leaving the boys behind.
“You know you don’t have to do that right?” Yoongi eyed Jin as he circled the couches to plop beside him, almost ruffling your hair as he passed by you, but your boyfriend nearly leapt out of his seat before he could touch you. “No- Oh, god- Jin.”
Laughing behind his teeth, the eldest took a breath, trying to sneak a peek at Yoongi’s laptop. “Any other day I’d do it, just to be a menace,” Jin said quietly, respecting your sleep. “No way in hell I’d mess with her right now,” he eyed his best friend, “But, you on the other hand…”
Yoongi deadpanned at the work on his screen.
“You ready for all this?” Jin asked, his tone drenched in genuinity.
Yoongi resumed his project. “Ready for all what?”
“You’re about to be a dad,” Jin’s grin could light up the room, if the sun weren’t already doing it. Yoongi took a small, barely noticeable deep breath. “You ready?”
“I have to be.”
Jin folded his arms over his chest, sinking further into the cushion to sneak a glimpse of whatever was holding Yoongi’s attention. “I barely got to see you yesterday, you two were in bed when Sun and I got here. Did’ja surprise her like you wanted?”
“Yep.”
“You think she’ll actually pop tomorrow?” Jin glanced at you for only a moment, resting his eyes back on Yoongi’s expressionless work face.
“I dunno.”
“Is that like, a thing? Somebody having their kid on their actual due date?” Jin seemed to babble on mindlessly. “Oh my god,” he almost gasped, an epiphany striking him. “Yanno how some kids are born early, and some kids are born late? What if that sets us up for the future?” Yoongi, unable to focus on anything now, scrunched his fists into balls. “Like, it tells us what kind of person we are before we know-“
“Oh my god, Seokjin,” Yoongi groaned, making his best friend laugh with glee. He finally tore his eyes away from his work to shoot him a hardened glare. “I’m telling them you’re enlisting tomorrow, shut up!”
Jin’s jaw fell open. “Ouch,” he forced out with another laugh. “You don’t mean that.”
Yoongi hesitated, half meaning it and half wishing he could take it back, dancing somewhere in between the two simply out of sleep deprivation. “Sorry,” he whispered, taking one look into his friend's worried eyes before crunching back over his keyboard.
Jin blinked, glancing to where you slept. Without saying a word he rose to his feet and rounded the couches, heading toward the archway to the foyer. Yoongi’s eyes snapped up to his back.
“Where are you going?” He pushed the words out in a hurry. Jin paused, looking over his shoulder with a small smile. Placing a finger over his lips he pretended to lock them with a key, motioning toward your sleeping figure. He was a babbling, energetic gust of whirlwind, but Yoongi couldn’t get through the rest of these days without him here.
Jin left for the kitchen and returned with two mugs, one for Yoongi and one for himself. Reclaiming his spot on the sofa he sat a bit closer to the soon-to-be father and pushed the coffee into his hand. Yoongi watched it happen wearily, giving Jin a quick glance as a ‘thank you’, and took a small sip letting the pure black, bitter, comforting drink take away his worries for all of three seconds.
Going back in for a second one, you stirred where you laid, making both men lurch forward, gasping internally. Well, Jin did.
On your side facing the boys, you crossed your legs differently than before, and then you crossed them differently after that. And then, you did it again. And again.
“Here,” Yoongi said quietly, handing the mug back to Jin, speaking from straight intuition that something was about to happen. Jin, curious, eyed his best friend, then yourself, and when you cracked your eyes open and mumbled your boyfriend's name, the eldest would’ve lost it if you weren’t terribly grouchy. Yoongi’s attentiveness was admirable.
Placing his laptop on the couch, screen facing Jin, Yoongi promptly appeared at your side and took one of your hands in his, crouching beside you on the floor. Rubbing his thumb along yours, Yoongi smiles at you, hiding everything he had been feeling minutes prior. You were awake, he had no time to stress, no time to worry about anything, no time to be anxious. You had his complete, undivided attention.
“D,” you whispered. His smile grew.
“See, now this is an appropriate hour to wake up,” he said. Squinting, you questioned the time, and when he muttered that it was around nine you tried to prop yourself up on your elbow. “No, baby, lay down.” Yoongi’s words were broken with a chuckle.
“Gotta get up,” you breathed, pushing away his hands if they attempted to get you to get you to relax. “Too much to do.”
Yoongi gripped both of your hands tight. You were unable to escape, but to be fair, you were too tired and didn’t feel like putting up much of a fight. “You’ve already done everything,” he smirked. “It’s all done, we said that earlier. Your only job now is to lay here and look pretty.”
“Shut up,” you droned, and Jin snickered. Karma. Jaw falling open, you actually tried to sit up this time. “Jin?!”
The eldest adjusted his posture so you wouldn’t have to move to see him. A loving smile graced his lips. “Guilty,” he said.
“How long have you been here?” you asked as Yoongi slid his hand from your laced fingers up to your shoulder, massaging the skin gently. Jin gave you a shrug.
“Since last night. You guys were asleep,” he said. Shifting your gaze to your boyfriend, both of you share a look. There was no way in hell either of you were sleeping, though it may have appeared that way. These couple hours of shut eye on the couch were attempting to make up for a week of snoozeless nights.
Holding an arm out to Jin, you wiggled your fingers, enticing him to move to your couch. “C’mere,” you mumbled. “I missed you.” Following suit, he plops down by your feet leaving ample space between you, avoiding any bumps. A frown tugs at your lips, and Yoongi laughs. “Come here.” Kicking out a foot you nudge Jin’s arm with your big toe.
“I’d listen if I were you,” Yoongi teased. Your arm swung over to him like a reflex, nudging him as well.
“Shut up,” you groaned, then within milliseconds your eyes softened. Yoongi shook his head, hoping to clog up the waterworks before they began, but his effort had failed. “Oh god, I’m being mean.” A sniffle came from you as Jin wedged himself under your legs, covering you up snuggly with the blanket. “I’m sorry.” A soft cry escaped you. Covering your face with your hands, you take a deep breath. “I don’t wanna be mean,” you muttered into your tearstained palms. “She’s making me mean.”
Jin’s ears perked up. “She?” he asked swiftly, eyes darting from you to Yoongi. “She?” His volume started to rise. “It’s a girl?”
From the kitchen, Sunny’s voice vibrated along the walls, “Hold up!” Her persistence made you laugh, aiding Yoongi to take a breath. Slipper wearing feet shuffled along the floors, getting louder until Sunny came into view, her beautiful self ready to topple over the back of the couch as she latched onto one of your arms. Peeling your hands away, you smiled at her. “It’s a girl!?” Your grin widened. “You knew this and you didn’t tell me? I’ve been living here a week, and you didn’t tell me? It’s- She’s supposed to come out of you tomorrow, and you DIDN’T TELL ME?”
“Sun!” you cackled, ignoring the sharp pain in your abdomen. “We have no idea what they’re going to be, it’s just a guess.” Sliding a hand over your belly, you pressed your fingers over where the pain came from, the dull cramp still lingering. The knot intensifies, rolling around to your back as if your little one themself was stretching out their limbs, running out of room where they’ve been living happily for nine months.
Falling into their own chatter about the baby’s gender and their guesses, your family surrounding you warmed your heart. You’ve needed their support, and you’ve had it every step of the way, up until the very end where they’ve put up with you snapping at them, and saying irrational things out of a blind hormonal rush.
Pressing your fingers against your belly a bit harder to help ease the tightness, it only seemed to make it worse. Arching your back, lifting your entire being up off the sofa by at least an inch, you groan aloud in pain silencing the room. The sharp pain in your lower back could only be best described as somebody hammering a nail into your pelvis, and they weren’t being very forgiving. “Motherfucker,” you gasped, grabbing onto Yoongi, any part of him, and squeezing whatever you had in your grip.
“If your water breaks right now I will freak out,” Sunny said.
Thoughts clouded with pain, sharp, stabbing, cramping, tight pain- You can’t find it in your heart to try to laugh at her, and she doesn’t expect you to. All three of their beating hearts had stopped, watching you anxiously, hoping to whoever they believed in that you wouldn’t pop right here, right now. As much as everyone wanted this to be over, right now didn’t feel like the time. Everyone silently hoped that the day would be tomorrow.
A voice breaks the pain barrier, Yoongi trying to soothe you, coaching you to breathe. With a scrunched up face you suck in air through your nose and push it out of your lips with haste. The knife in your back lets up after a few more breaths that begin to slow down.
Blinking, you take in Jin and Sunny’s eyes wide with worry. Sunny’s brows were settled in the center of her forehead, her full lips pulled into a pout. Jin appeared simply terrified. Yoongi however, was the face of patience. The moment you met his gaze he smiled.
“Better?” he asked. Raising a brow, you relax the fist you had wrapped around his forearm. His cream colored skin is blushing where your fingers just were.
“That was the worst it’s been,” you whispered, dragging your pinky over the mark you had left.
“You’ve felt that before?” Yoongi narrowed his eyes. You nod in response, receiving a silent sigh in return. “Why haven’t you told me?”
“I didn’t want to bother you.”
His expression went wild. One of his hands latched onto yours. “Baby, I’m the reason she’s in there, you have to tell me if you’re in pain, okay?”
Jin snapped his fingers. “You said she again, bro.” Yoongi deadpanned, making you giggle. Turning his focus to his best friend, you look up at yours and find her holding back a laugh as well. “Don’t give me that look, you literally said-”
“Forget what I said!” Yoongi snapped, screwing his face up before he laughed. “She’s not- I mean, we don’t know what she is- Damn!” Jin was hysterical, throwing his head back onto the sofa as he gripped your legs. While your boyfriend shouts, you feel the little one within you wiggle, then kick like mad, as if they wanted to help their father defend himself.
Throwing a hand in the air and one over your belly, you silenced the room and said, “She’s moving.” Jin audibly expressed his grief of you using the wrong pronoun and jutted a hand toward you, but Sunny shut him up, shoving his shoulder.
Three hands slid over your belly, warming you. They waited, quietly egging your little one on to dance about, though they’ve seemed to have acquired a bout of stage fright. Flickering your eyes to Yoongi, he catches your gaze and smirks.
“You want me to talk,” he said, seemingly to no one. Nothing happened. “I am right here,” he glanced around at the audience, “We are all right here.” His tone was the gentlest Jin and Sunny had ever heard. “We can’t wait to meet you, we’re so excited.”
A soft bump tapped Sunny's palm, and she gasped. It wasn’t the first time she’s felt the baby move, but every time felt like the first. “Yoongi, don’t you dare shut up,” she said, her voice nearly inaudible.
“You know you’re killing your mom right now,” Yoongi huffed. Giggling along with him you made your little one go nuts, everyone exclaiming at the dance. “You are so loved, you are so loved.” He paused to collect his thoughts, wondering if this was something he wanted to share out loud. The baby waited, listening for their father. “I never doubted you for a second,” he said. “From the moment I knew… You were something I had to have for the rest of my life.”
Moving your attention from your belly to your boyfriend, you find him not even admiring the bump, but instead, yourself. Blinking away the sting of tears in your eyes, you start to smile.
“It was July, it was hotter than hell,” his eyes were gleaming with pride. “I was… a mess, really, when you found me.”
“You found me,” you whispered. The baby hadn’t eased their kicking, they were happier than ever.
Yoongi gripped your hand tight. “Sure,” he blinked. “But, from that night on, you found me.” He moved your hands over his heart bringing your burning eyes to tears. “We found us. I could never even begin to imagine doing this with somebody else.”
“I love you.” A whisper, just for him.
Yoongi kissed the back of your hand. “I love you.”
“Oh my god.” Sunny pulled her hand off of your belly and wiped her own tears. She took a deep breath and said, “Enough out of you two, let’s go eat, please.” Jin shot her a grin, reaching his hand back to caress one that she placed on the back of the sofa. “Yoongi, you grab the girls, Seokjin let’s go.” She didn’t bother to keep their hands together as she hurried off toward the kitchen.
No one dared to acknowledge her use of girls.
“Come on, you’ve gotta be hungry,” Yoongi said. Standing up he held out a hand to help you up. You responded with a shake of your head. “You haven’t eaten since dinner last night, and even then you didn’t have much.” Another shake.
“Not hungry,” you fluttered your eyes shut, smoothing both hands over your bump. Yoongi studied the unease in your brows, sighing to himself.
“You can have whatever you want, it doesn’t need to be breakfast.” His offer didn’t make it anymore interesting. The idea of ingesting anything at the moment makes you want to be sick. He seemed to catch on by the way your lips pulled down. “How about some water then?”
The pain that moved through you was back, duller this time around, but very much there.
“I don’t want it,” you groaned. “Don’t want anything.”
Yoongi glanced toward the kitchen through the living room archway once, enticing Sunny to come back in here with his mind. If he couldn’t convince you to have something, he was certain your best friend would.
But, she never came back. It was you and him left to the living room, and it was up to Yoongi to get you into the kitchen. Now that he was home he knew that Sunny didn’t want to take up too much of your time, nor did she want to feel your wrath. As much as she was there to help you, and as much as you didn’t want to be a pain in the ass, everyone knew that it was inevitable. It was up to Yoongi. Sunny was off duty, and laughing the morning away in the sunny kitchen with Jin.
You laid on that couch for another three hours, only getting up to use the bathroom. Yoongi would help you up, and back down- and through everything in between. Around noon he offered up another chance to eat, but you refused.
The trio came in and out throughout the day, Yoongi spending most of his time either on the couch beside you rubbing your ankles, or spread out on the floor next to where you laid to get some work done. Listening to some of the songs he had already prepared for his next album, your little one was having the most fun.
“Play that one again,” you mumbled, gesturing at the screen to a file labeled ‘Haegeum???’. “She’s going crazy.”
With a smile he clicked play, letting the bass fill the empty air, and sure enough your baby was bouncing. Flickering your eyes to the corner of his laptop you spied the clock that read 3:37 PM. Your stomach growled. Finally.
You’ve gone this long without eating before, you all have, but you never seem to remember the consequences. The emptiness rumbled with the soreness in your back, both plotting on your downfall, gifting you with a headache, which gripped your vacant stomach with purpose and churned it into mush.
“No,” you groaned, trying to sit up. Nausea haunted you. “Yoongi,” you whispered, reaching for him. The full name. With a smack of his hand to the spacebar he stopped the song and helped you up, holding onto you as you wobbled on your feet. Empty stomach, sore back, nausea, headache- now you were dizzy. “I feel sick.” Your throat tightened the closer you got to the bathroom, Yoongi guiding you there with patience.
At the threshold of the downstairs bathroom you stopped. Taking a deep breath you caught a whiff of something delicious from the kitchen, pointing your focus toward it. Yoongi laughed to himself.
“You need to put something in you,” he said, tone strict, not matching the light smile on his lips. “You’re gonna feel sick if you don’t.” Looking at him, you pouted. He brought a hand to your cheek, dragging a finger down it before fixing your hair. “Please?” he whispered. “Do it for me?” With a sly smirk he added, “Do it for her?”
“Is she up?” Sunny’s voice carried into the hall. “I’m cookin’!”
You smiled, relief pouring over Yoongi. “Do it for her,” you pointed to your belly, then the kitchen, “Or her?”
Yoongi considered, then shrugged. “Both?” He scrunched up his face. “Both.”
Leaning into him carefully so you didn’t tip over, you don’t have to do much to pry a kiss out of him, his lips were magnetic. “I’ll do it for you.” You winked with your whisper.
Following you toward the kitchen where beautiful scents wafted from, going way below the speed limit, Yoongi eyed your figure and took a breath to calm himself. You were up, you were moving, you were smiling, you wanted to eat… And this baby was coming tomorrow. She had to be.
~ August 31st, 2021 ~
“What do you mean you feel fine, you need to be pushing out a baby!” Jungkook’s voice shouted through the speaker from your phone that laid on the kitchen counter. Laughing at his exasperated tone, you fold your arms over your bump and shrug as if he could see you. The almost twenty four year old was on his way home, he had just gotten off a flight with Jimin.
The mention of the boy's name had you and Yoongi side eyeing one another.
“Yesterday was hell, I really thought for sure that last night something was going to happen and you’d be in the air,” you rolled your eyes. You weren’t lying, yesterday was utter hell. After finally eating something you expected your ailments to vanish, but they somehow got worse, and you did eventually get sick. “I woke up today feeling fine, though, it’s weird.”
Yoongi, leaning against the counter on his elbows, bobbed his head. “So weird,” he whispered. Suspicious himself, thinking that it would’ve all gone down last night, when he saw you get out of bed at a decent time with a chipper attitude to start the day, he knew something wasn’t right. He’d spend the rest of the day observing you with that narrow look in his eye.
After breakfast you helped Sunny straighten up the guest room, and even did a load of laundry- of whatever happened to be left. Waltzing around the first floor with your hands planted on your hips and a cautious boyfriend behind you, you contemplated reorganizing something, anything. Yoongi assisted you with the kitchen cabinets, you guys didn’t need anymore broken plates, and he put up with your orders as you watched him redo the fridge.
On the second floor you paraded around the rooms curiously, Sunny forcing you out of hers and into your own. Helping Yoongi change the sheets on your bed, and then change the sheets in the baby’s crib, you dared ask Sunny if she needed hers done- to which she shot you a humorous glare.
“I think I liked you better on the couch,” she joked.
Following your waddle, Yoongi didn’t protest once. All of this walking around would only help the little one come out of you, and if it didn’t, it would at least tire you out so you’d get some sleep. He only put up a fight when you grabbed the doorknob to his office. With a quiet, “Nuh-uh,” he touched your arm to gently pull you into the baby's room.
Puttering around the nursery with you, sharing smiles, taking cute pictures of the room, you both looked genuinely happy. This could very well be the last day it was just the two of you in that nursery, Yoongi prayed.
When the two of you circled down the stairs for lunch, that’s when Jungkook’s name appeared on your phone.
“So, you don’t feel like it’ll happen today?” Jimin chimed in from the background.
“I don’t,” you sighed. Yoongi rubbed his eyes.
“Dammit,” Jimin muttered. “I’m gonna lose twenty bucks.”
Both you and your boyfriend cracked laughs.
“Who bet on my child!?” Yoongi exclaimed, snatching the phone. There’s a squabble happening on the other end of the line, making you laugh even harder, your bladder being squeezed by your baby.
“We all did,” Jimin giggled.
“Hey, I did not!” Jungkook whined. There’s another bustle of muffled noise. Pressing your lips together to hold in your giggles, you and Yoongi share another look. “Don’t put me in your lies, babe.”
Both you and Yoongi’s eyes shot open wide. You definitely weren’t supposed to hear that. Clasping a hand over your mouth, your bladder gets squeezed tighter. Jumping from where you sat at the island, you hurry for the bathroom, whispering urgencies to get there faster.
“Oh boy,” Yoongi laughed, following you soon after you left the room, still listening to his brother's bicker over the phone.
Turning the corner into the bathroom he finds you crouched in front of the toilet with your legs pressed together, laughing so hard that tears were coming out of your eyes.
“What is happening?” Jungkook asked, laughing as well, ignoring Jimin.
“I… I…” you were gasping for air between words. Yoongi squeezed his eyes shut, losing it. “I didn’t make it!”
“Jungkook!” Yoongi shouted, his deep laugh making you laugh even harder. “You just made her pee her pants!”
“I’ve never done this before,” you sucked in a deep breath, grasping your chest. Yoongi followed suit, taking on as well before losing it all over again.
“You almost have,” he said between giggles. Furrowing your brows you question him, but Jungkook and Jimin confirmed what he’d said.
“Wings Tour!” They both shouted into the phone, sounding like the speaker was in their throats. The giggles coming out of Jimin triggered you to laugh all over again.
“Oh god, we were in Sydney!” You gripped the fabric of the t-shirt you had on. Yoongi grinned, laughed and nodded.
“And you were trashed,” he howled, the three boys completely inconsolable for another couple of minutes.
Indeed, years back on one of the boys' tours, it was the end of May, you were in Sydney, Australia and you were having the time of your life. You and Yoongi were both around twenty-four years old, just as Jungkook is now, and you were still insufferably love drunk.
Now, partying with the seven of them and Sunny, you weren’t the only one to have one too many, but you were the only part of the story the nine of you seem to remember and piece together. It’d been a while since this has been brought up, something different triggers it’s retelling each time, and this time it just so happened to be this.
“Okay, okay, I get it,” you groaned with a grin, the boy's laughter keeping you from having a meltdown. “I was drunk, I had to pee, we were in the car- I get it!”
Yoongi gave you a smile of sympathy, then his eyes shot open wide. “That’s the night we tried to-”
“NO!” you shouted, holding a hand up, one that wasn’t shoved between your thighs. He was not about to let a secret the two of you shared slip to either of the boys.
Jungkook snickered. “Oh no, now you have to tell us!”
“What did you try!?” Jimin’s voice shrieked.
Putting on your best frown, you whined aloud and slapped your hand to your side. “Yoongi,” you said sternly, and he snapped out of the laughter. “Help me!” A giggle slipped out of you, making one slip out of him.
“We gotta go,” he said into the phone, and both boys protested. “Come on over later, or something, we’ll be here.” And he hung up without listening to whatever else they had to say. “Let’s go upstairs.” He held open his arms for you to wrap yourself around him, accident or not, he didn’t care. “Shower? With me?” he offered, giving the top of your head a kiss.
“To try what we tried in Sydney?” you giggled.
Yoongi considered, then shook his head, sliding a hand over your bump. “Not with this belly.”
The boys from the phone call showed their faces later that evening around six. Sunny and Jin who had a day out together were back at the house around the same time, filling your living room with laughter and storytelling. Taehyung, Namjoon and Hoseok were called throughout the night, the three of them busy with work and family, though your heart longed for them to come by.
The last day of your pregnancy was coming to an end and you wished to share it with all of them. It wasn’t just you and Yoongi involved here, the seven of them and your best friend were a huge piece of the puzzle. Your family.
But their lives were inevitable, all seven of them. Sunny could even be thrown in that mix now too with the jobs that she’s been working. She spoke of one now, cuddled up between Jimin and Jin with a glass of wine in her ring adorned hand. Waving it about as the boys were enthralled with her words, she gestured it to you and shook her head.
“That night when you told us you were having this baby, I swear, I knew,” she grinned. Jin tossed in an objection, but she swatted his hand away. “Every single time Kourtney was pregnant, or Kim, even Kylie,” a low groan rung out amongst the guys, having to hear about these women whenever they were in Sunny’s presence, “They would get this glow about them, and I’m not talking about the pregnancy glow, I’m talking about a beautiful, starlit glow, like they had some deep, hidden power awoken by the child within them.”
The boy's grumbles of displeasure turned to shock, as did your own. Not one of you had ever heard Sunny speak that way. Yoongi jokingly scurried his hands around for a notebook.
“Wait, wait, say it again, say it again,” he joked, acquiring laughs from the room. Your baby kicked at your belly, three times. Sliding a hand over the spot you reached for one of Jungkooks, who sat beside you, and placed it over top where your little one was making a beat.
His eyes lit up. “Wow,” he whispered, gazing at you. The hair on his head dark as night rested on his eyelashes as they fluttered a couple of times. “You know if she doesn’t come before midnight we’re gonna share a birthday.” He tried to hide his smile, a bit of the eighteen year old you once knew showing himself.
Nodding once, you grinned and whispered, “I wouldn’t want her to share it with anyone else.” Meeting his fingers, you touched the tips of yours together and quietly felt your little one bounce around. Flickering his attention between your belly and you, Jungkook’s smile widened with each kick.
“I’m so happy you did this,” he said.
Lowering your brow, you asked, “Got pregnant by accident?”
Jungkook huffed a laugh and pressed a few of his fingers against the baby. “You kept her.” His voice was small, tone soft enough to slip around you and hug you warmly. Your memories flashed back to that night in the dressing room at the Golden Disc Awards, where you let it slip to him that you were pregnant. If it weren’t for his reasoning that night you weren’t sure you’d be in this position right now.
Yoongi absolutely would’ve helped you through anything and everything, but hearing it come from a friend meant the world.
Jungkook has been there for you through it all, he’s become one of your closest friends in this tight knit group of family you were a part of. When Sunny wasn’t there, Jungkook was. And even if Sunny was around, so was Jungkook.
Those three words he uttered entirely too calmly made you pout, the tears welling up in your eyes as you watched him gape in awe at the way your baby moved.
“You wanna share a birthday with me?” he asked the little one quietly. Giggling after a sniffle, you feel eyes on you and look over to find Yoongi gazing your way with a smile on his face. “You do your mom a favor and come tomorrow, okay? It’ll be the best day ever, we can’t wait.” Yoongi could barely hear what he was saying over Sunny’s stories, but he overheard enough to catch the context.
Blowing air through his lips he shrugged his shoulders, telling you he didn’t know when this was going to happen. Yesterday rolled through like a category four hurricane, and now today, your due date, you felt… nothing. Very little soreness, very little nausea, very little pain anywhere.
If you had to be honest with yourself, this was the easiest day of your pregnancy so far. And you were glad, because if you were miserable when the ball of sunshine who can’t seem to take his hands off your belly came over, you would’ve hated yourself for it.
Having your baby tomorrow was ideal, and you’d love that, especially since it was Jungkook’s birthday… You just didn’t feel like it would happen. First baby’s came late, it was a logical statistic! With the way Jungkook was cooing at these kicks, you couldn’t find it in your heart to share the facts. So you let him believe that your little one would be out of you tomorrow.
~ September 1st, 2021 ~
Jimin and Jungkook left by midnight, and Sunny and Jin escaped to the guest room soon after you and Yoongi went to bed. The six of you stayed up as long as you possibly could just to see if your little one would make an appearance on the day they were expected to come.
They did not. To everyone's disappointment. Well, everyone except Jungkook. The clock struck twelve on his twenty-fourth birthday and he cheered aloud, knowing he had a twenty four hour shot for the baby you carried to come out.
After a birthday squeeze and kiss on the cheek, you followed him out your front door onto the steps and waved him and Jimin off. The two got into the same car, Jimin mumbling something to the youngest about going home the long way before they shut the doors to you and your boyfriends prying ears.
“They are so-”
“Shhh.” You held a finger to Yoongi’s lips. “Don’t speak of it. Not yet.”
Yoongi quirked a brow, then against your finger asked, “Can I speak of it upstairs in our bedroom?” Knowing Sunny and Jin were around cleaning up, you shot your boyfriend a look and winked.
Taking his hand with the one you shushed him with, you tugged him inside and said, “Hell yes, because I want to talk about it, too.”
Halfway to the stairs after Yoongi locked and secured the front door, he drug his thumb over the back of your hand sending a chill up your arm. Turning around to face him, he nearly bumps into you. Following you like your shadow since he’s been home, it wouldn’t have been the first time.
He smiled at you, but it quickly faded to something wicked when he noted how your eyes were devouring him. Darting your tongue between your lips briefly was enough to make him close the space between you and kiss you deeply, hands sliding up your back to hold you beneath your shoulder blades.
Savoring this moment, kissing him slowly, you didn’t want it to end. Your wandering hands drug up his torso exploring beneath his shirt, toying with the elastic band on the pants he wore. He only jumped a bit when you delved a hand into them, exploring beneath the band.
He parted from you with a breath mixed with a laugh, surprised by how quick you seemed to move along. “We want this to be over so we can meet her,” he began, voice half-broken, lifting his chin a bit so you can continue kissing down his neck. “But, I’m gonna miss these quick moments of you just taking me for whatever you need. Using me.”
Leaning back with a smack of your lips, you look up at him with wide eyes. “D, do you have any idea of what you just said to me?” He answered with a slight shake of his head, oblivious as fuck. “Oh, my love,” you smirked, placing a hand to his cheek. “We’ve got a lot to talk about.”
His eyes gleamed in the light of the dim foyer. “After I put you to sleep?”
You squished his cheek between your fingers and pressed your lips together. “Honey, after what you just told me I might be putting you to sleep.”
And you nearly did, as best as you could given the circumstances. Despite your bump being in the way of all that you could do, Yoongi was still blown away, sweaty and whiney… and fucked out.
After a quick shower together, again, you were both in bed around two, pressed against one another in the middle of the mattress praying that sleep would take you under as soon as possible. With very little time remaining before you popped, you’d both need as much as you could get.
For an hour you tossed and turned, along with Yoongi who attempted to keep himself laying toward you. He took your hand when you reached for him and drug his fingers over your palm to try to soothe you to sleep. When your back was facing him he danced his fingers on your skin under your shirt to relax you further… but nothing worked.
“Are you awake?” you whispered in the darkness, flipping over to your boyfriend who had gone static about ten minutes ago. You met his half open eyes, and a lazy smile. “Oh,” you breathed. “Did I wake you?”
“No,” he said, keeping the whispers going. “I can’t fall asleep. Think I will if you do, though.” Grumbling, you close your eyes and take a breath.
“I can’t,” you exhaled heavily. “I just can’t.”
“We’ve done this before,” he mumbled, taking your hand. “You’ll get there. Even if you have to sleep into the day tomorrow, just keep your eyes closed and relax. I’m right here.”
Listening, you started to take slow, counted deep breaths to help quiet your mind. It lasted for all of forty six seconds.
“Think I have to pee,” you whispered, and Yoongi laughed.
“Want me to help you up?” he asked, keeping a close eye on you as you rolled over to your other side to try to get out of bed. Kicking your legs over the edge, he kept talking as if he were the only one in the room. “No? Oh, okay. You’re good, what am I thinking?”
Throwing a smirk over your shoulder you waddled into the bathroom and didn’t even bother turning on the light. The stark white room reflected everything just with the moonlight from the window.
In bed, Yoongi sat up against the pillows and let his gaze dance around the bedroom while he waited for you to come back. Fiddling with his nails, he couldn’t shake the subtle feeling of unease settling in his gut. The more he thought about it, the more it didn’t feel like unease, it felt like anxiety. But, he figured the two went hand in hand.
Since the two of you had been trying to fall asleep, something was off. His heart wasn’t beating steadily, the tightness within his chest would not subside. There was some signal going off in his brain, some instinct telling him that something was wrong, or something was… going to happen. He didn’t want to say anything to spook you, so he kept his worries to himself.
You were fine, you felt fine, you were healthy, the baby was healthy, everything was going to plan-
“ACHOO!” You were sneezing, that had to mean that you were fine.
“Bless!” Yoongi called out to you with a little giggle. A quiet groan, or moan, or some sort of sound came from you from the bathroom. Tossing the covers off of himself, Yoongi figured you needed help standing up again, so he slipped out of bed.
“Yoongi?!” your voice was high pitched, and scared, and concerned. All of the things that sent your boyfriend's heart rate skyrocketing. His feet couldn’t get him into the bathroom fast enough, nor could he flip on the light any quicker.
“I’m here, I’m-”
You were both frozen. Eyes boring into one another's, you were frozen. Paralyzed in place because this wasn’t supposed to happen at, like, three o’clock in the morning.
Your water broke, that much was evident.
“What do-”
“How-”
You both spoke at the same time. Voices hushed like this was a secret.
“I sneezed,” you said. Then you laughed, and repeated yourself. “I fucking sneezed.”
Yoongi tried to laugh with you, but he couldn’t force it out. Instead, he latches onto your arm and guides you out of the bathroom carefully.
Your water broke. It was go time. He was about to be a father.
He studied for this moment, he was ready to go. If your water broke you were to head to the hospital, whether or not you were having contractions yet. It was the doctor's order, and he was too scared to stay home knowing that now it could literally happen at any second.
Helping you change into clean, comfortable clothes, he gave you a long, messy kiss before getting changed himself. Amongst these few minutes very little was uttered, there wasn’t too much to say aside from the mumbling of your friend’s names who were in the bedroom down the hall.
“I’ll wake them, let’s just get you downstairs,” Yoongi nodded, noting your brows that were twisted with a hint of worry. This moment was coming whether you wanted it to or not. You’ve thought a lot about what would happen after your water broke, if that was in the cards for you- you’ve read one too many horror stories.
At the rate you were going, if you didn’t sneeze, you figured you’d be one of them. Forcing an induction was not how you wanted this all to go down. Letting things naturally take their course was the game plan. So far, so good. The little one was on board. You just wished they had waited until you had at least an hour of sleep.
Standing at the top of the stairs in knitted pants and a sweater that belonged to your boyfriend, you grip the railing and take a deep breath hoping to ease the tightness that was settling into the muscles between your hips. It felt slightly different than what you’d experienced before, like your baby was trying to stretch their way out.
“D,” you muttered, barely looking over your shoulder. Yoongi was at the door peeking through the crack he propped it open to. From within it you could see the flashing of the television, but the lights flicked on after a round of hushed profanities.
“I’m right here, I’m coming,” he said to you, giving you his full attention. He was the face of patience. Of grace. Typically able to hide his true emotion from his expression, there was something swirling around him, and you couldn’t tell if it was nerves or excitement. You prayed it was the latter.
“She feels funny,” you said, sliding a hand over your bump. Yoongi smirked.
“Her peace was disturbed, of course she feels funny.”
Your lips pulled into a frown. Tears stung your eyes. “She’s gonna get hurt, what if she doesn’t know what to do?”
He was at your side in a second, grasping your hands, turning you around so that he could kiss you on the forehead. Looking you in the eyes he whispered, “She knows what to do.”
“Promise?” A tear slipped down your cheek.
Yoongi smiled, brushing it away. “Promise. And, later on, when she’s old enough, you can tell her all about this and how she got here.” Your tiny smile relieved some of the tension in his chest. “I think I read somewhere that baby’s do remember this, but they suppress it… Like, subconsciously or something, I dunno, it was pretty cool. We can tell her together. Help her understand it.”
“I’d like that,” you said.
Yoongi smiled. “Me too.”
“Let me in,” Sunny said from behind him, tugging a hoodie over her head. The sight of her, sleepy eyed with no makeup on, aided the flowing of your tears. Pulling you into a gentle hug, nudging Yoongi aside, she kissed the top of your head and took a deep breath with you. “You’re going to be amazing.”
“You’re not coming!?” you said into her shoulder. One of her hands circled your back.
“Love, I’m coming, I promise,” she said quietly. Pulling away from you she gestured over her shoulder. “We both are.”
“They all are,” Yoongi assured you, placing a hand to your back. Your heart sunk down to your knees as you grasped your cheeks and almost gasped. Three out of six of them were god knows where, doing god knows what. Weeks ago all six of the boys promised that they would be in attendance, and here it was, three in the morning on Jungkook's birthday, days after they all just got done working.
“Somebody call Taehyung,” you choked out, your eyes wide. “Joon, Hobi, oh my god. What if Tae’s in Paris, what if Namjoon went-”
“Baby,” Yoongi cut in front of Sunny to grasp you carefully beneath the chin, making you look at him, again showing no sign of panic in his feline eyes. “They’re all right here, I promise you.” Your eyes darted to Sunny who simply nodded. You seemed to be the only one in a tizzy, but you figured it was appropriate. You were the one who had to do all the work when you got to the hospital.
“We got the plan,” Sunny said. “Remember the plan.”
“The plan,” you parroted, looking at Yoongi who still held the underside of your jaw within his soft fingers.
“We’re at the part where we get in the car and go,” he said. “Sunny and Jin will take care of things here, they’ll let everyone know what’s going on, and they’ll be right behind us, I promise you.”
Furrowing your brows, you sniffled and said, “You’re making a lot of promises.” Yoongi huffed a laugh, shaking his head.
“I intend to keep them all,” he whispered, kissing your lips before he dropped his hand and ushered you around to start walking down the stairs. Glancing behind him to Sunny and Jin, who propped himself in the doorway of the bedroom he was sharing with your best friend, he gulped, letting a sliver of his nerves pop onto his face. Sunny lifted her hand to her heart and tapped it twice. Jin winked at him, then gave him a single nod.
It was baby time.
Without Yoongi, this entire morning would’ve been disastrous. Where you were skittish and nervous, he was poised and the voice of reason. The entire drive to the hospital he clung to your hand, reassuring you with a stroke of his thumb or some sort of positive affirmation you weren’t even sure he knew. Half of them you weren’t even sure what they meant, but they came from him, so it meant the world.
The check-in process was smooth, admittance was easy. Aside from you and Yoongi, the place was calm and quiet. People chattered from some open doors down the hallway you were wheeled down after a sweet nurse with short unnatural red hair insisted you get into a wheelchair. For three thirty in the morning, it was pretty silent.
Holding onto your bump, you look up at Yoongi who walked beside you and found him already looking back. Watching you. With a quick widening of his eyes and a smile, he shares his excitement with you.
The room you were brought into was nothing short of a hospital room. It was white, bright and entirely sterile. A single bed waited for you in the middle amongst different machines and electronics you were clueless about. The nurse wheeled you in near one with a screen you were familiar with. It was the same device they used at your monthly ultrasounds.
The nurse left you with a gown to change into and a smile. Yoongi thanked her, shut the door behind her and turned to you, laughing quietly as he caught a glimpse of you waiting nervously in the chair.
Nibbling your bottom lip, your hands were clasped together and you were literally twiddling your thumbs. Eyes wider than ever, you were taking short, shallow breaths, begging your boyfriend with the fear in your pupils to do something.
“Come on,” he said, tone quiet, gentle. He came over to your side and reached for one of your hands, taking it firmly within his. “Let’s change, the doctor will be here soon.” Hesitating, you swallow hard, and barely shake your head.
“I wanna go home,” you forced out of your lips. You weren’t sure he heard you. The twist of his stomach and tug on his heart was very real. He heard you. Kneeling down beside the wheelchair he put on his best face and sighed.
“Me too,” he agreed with you, to your surprise. The raise of your brows made him chuckle. “I’m tired, I’m a little hungry, I’m-”
“You’re not scared,” you said. Yoongi tilted his head in question. “How are you not… terrified? I feel ridiculous that I can’t see straight and you’re… fine.” He listened, he didn’t dare interrupt. “At some point today, hopefully, we are going to be three of us. It’s not just you and me anymore, D, we’re going to have a baby. A real live baby that we’re going to have to take care of, and feed, and raise, and… You’re perfectly fine about it, and I’m shaking, literally. What if I’m not ready like I thought I was, what if I can’t handle this?”
He didn’t speak for a moment, you contemplated if you had shattered his heart or not. It was only when his bottom lip crinkled that you felt a moment of guilty relief.
“I am scared out of my mind, baby,” he whispered. “What you’re about to do? What she’s going to have to go through? I’ve been speaking to whichever god is listening for months now.” One of his hands ran up and down your arm, soothing the both of you. “I used to swear I didn’t have any luck when it came to this shit… When it came to… life. You and I both know what it’s like to be dealt a bad hand.” You shared a small smile with him.
“We get through it together, you know that,” he continued. “You’re not doing this alone, I will be right here… forever. Am I nervous about what comes when we get home? When we take her home and we’re the only ones there? Holy shit, yes. You said it, she’s ours. We’re gonna be responsible for an entire life when not even a year ago we were spending nights getting plastered with everybody at Jungkooks.” He took a breath, the two of you in comfortable silence for a couple of seconds.
“I’m scared shitless that I’m gonna lose you,” he admitted, averting his gaze to the floor. “Scared shitless something will happen to her, too.” You took your hand to his chin, holding him the way he was holding you at home, bringing his eyes back to yours.
“We’re here,” you whispered. “These people are good, we’ll be okay.”
“I didn’t want to tell you how I was feeling, I didn’t want to add more stress to any of this,” he said.
“D, you know you have to-”
“I know,” he scrunched his face up and rolled his eyes. “Talk about it. And now that you’ve heard it?” You drug a finger down his porcelain cheek and tried to smile.
“I feel a lot better, honestly,” you said. Yoongi breathed a laugh. “You and me.”
“Me and you,” he said. “I love you.”
“I love you.”
He took your hand away from his cheek and held it tight. “I can’t wait to see you be a mom.” Swallowing a smile, he took a long deep breath. “As scared as I am, I really can’t believe that this is happening. We’re about to have a baby.” Parting your lips, you couldn’t muster up anything to say, so Yoongi continued, “You’re going to be amazing. You can do this. I’ve never seen you back down from a challenge, ever. I pray our daughter gets your strength.”
“I pray she gets your eyes,” you said, and it makes the both of you laugh aloud. “Your smile, your laugh, oh god, I pray she gets it all.” He blushed right before your eyes, a sight so rare it gets you to giggle.
“Well, even if she comes out an exact clone of either one of us,” he began, “she’s still ours. And that’s pretty fucking cool.”
The smiles dialed down to softness, the room falling so quiet the only sound to be heard was the beeping of machines in other rooms. Gazing at his face, his beautiful imperfect skin and tousled black hair that was days away from being forced into some other color, you're reminded of everything the two of you have been through to get you to this moment.
Since the start of you and Yoongi, you’ve been handed battle after battle, whether it involved your relationship or not. When either of you went through something, you handled it together, hand in hand. Even when you’d butt heads, which wasn’t often, you still found a way to make it through.
“Do you remember when we were filming Fake Love?” You broke the silence with the ghost of a grin. Yoongi closed his eyes and shook his head.
“Don’t remind me,” he groaned.
“No, come on, it’s okay,” you said, wiggling his hand. Opening his eyes he gave you a cautious look. “We were almost at three years.”
“Yeah,” he huffed, then whispered, “And I was at my worst.”
Flickering your eyes all over his face, you studied him intently. “No,” you shook your head. “You weren’t.” He swallowed, flipping his brows over, quizzing you. “You were at your worst way before that, D. Fake Love was when you started to come out of it. Writing your second mixtape, touring, filming… It was a crazy time because you guys were blowing up everywhere. I was worried.”
“Why?” His voice was hushed.
“Because I thought if it got to be too much I would… I would really lose you,” you said. Yoongi didn’t move. “After what you went through, I wondered with the way you guys were taking over the world that you would get caught up in it and do something bad… something crazy. We went through it once, I thought it could happen again at any given moment, and what better than at the height of it all… God,” you sighed, feeling the tears brim your eyes, but Yoongi already beat you there. “We were filming Fake Love, and watching you move, watching you work… I thought, we beat it. The bad thing. It was the start of you… feeling better.”
He only gave you a small nod.
“The things I was thinking that day on set,” you laughed to yourself. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Tell me,” he whispered.
“That day changed everything,” you smiled. “Remember I was a, ‘I dunno if I want kids, or if I wanna get married, or if I wanna be stuck in one place forever,’ type of person?” Yoongi’s eyes widened as he nodded, a smirk appearing on his lips.
“You were a flight risk,” he teased.
“Oh, hush,” you shook his arm, your grin growing. “That’s the day it all changed.” His smile melted, his lips turning pouty. “I wasn’t afraid of anything, except one thing. No longer having you in my life. I was in love with you way before then, but that was the day I knew I had to keep you forever, I realized I was in this for… life. I knew I wanted to live with you, I knew I wanted to make a life with you. I wanted us to grow up together. Grow old. Want to see you… grow old.”
Yoongi curled his lip. “You don’t want that.”
“Yes the hell I do,” you gasped, giggling. Reaching a hand over you squeezed one of his cheeks and messed with his hair. “Wanna see wrinkles and grey hair, Mr. Min. And I better get to see them.”
Yoongi sighed. “Yeah, you better.” His gaze hardened.
Turning your lips up, you whispered, “I promise.”
“Me too,” he whispered in return, shifting to give you a proper kiss. As he pulled away a knock sounded at the door. Jumping a bit, you looked down at yourself and groaned.
“Oh, I’m not ready.” “It’s us,” Sunny’s voice said from the hallway. Yoongi grabbed your knee and squeezed it with a smile. Rising to his feet he pulled open the heavy metal door and invited your friends inside. Both Sunny and Jin wore smiles on their faces, just short of cheesy.
Hugs were exchanged amongst the three before Jin said, “House is good, everythings locked up, everyones been called.” He shot you a funny look to get you to, thankfully, laugh. Thinking about the five other boys getting that phone call, you couldn’t imagine being on the receiving end. It was way too early to have this happen, though you wonder if Jungkook had actually fallen asleep yet. Either way, you figured you could apologize to them all when they arrived.
Standing up out of the chair, Yoongi rushed over to help you transfer to the bed. The tightness in your abdomen was getting worse, and you were starting to believe you’d have preferred it to be the doctor that walked into the room.
“Who has my phone?” you asked anybody. Yoongi reached into his back pocket and handed it over. Your messages were blowing up. Five of your favorite people who were on their way were sending you ample messages, but one was insistent, not stopping until you opened them up.
[kookie:] Did i call it or did i call it!?
[kookie:] I knew it i fucking knew it
[kookie:] Get that baby out today
[kookie:] Please
[kookie:] Pretty please
[kookie:] Best birthday present ever
[kookie:] I love you and will see you soon me and Jimin are on our way
Me and Jimin. Jungkook and Jimin. You smiled at the message and gave it a heart. Baby stuff aside, you were ecstatic those two had finally given in.
The waiting game was excruciatingly painful. For everybody. It had been about five hours since your water had broken and nothing was happening. You were contracting, that much was happening, which was the painful part for you. Yoongi’s was having to watch it all happen and not be able to do anything about it.
You weren’t allowed to eat anything, but you could chew on ice chips, which Yoongi had gone to refill at least more than seven times. You couldn’t sleep because of the contractions, but you were able to shut your eyes and get some type of rest even if it meant teasing your body with REM, your subconscious wanting to drift off into a deep slumber.
Your room was revolving with visitors, especially after each one arrived. After Sunny and Jin, it was Jungkook and Jimin, just like the youngest had said. Then an hour after, Namjoon popped in with a gift for the baby, the sweetest set of tiny purple pajamas, and then when the room was quiet, Hoseok snuck his way inside, ready to give out the tightest of hugs.
The sunshine was in the midst of trying to put together a solo album. Knowing he came here to lose sleep and wait out the birth of your baby with your family brought on the tears. You couldn’t let go of him, he sat on the edge of your bed for almost forty five minutes until Yoongi had to pry him away from you.
There was something about Namjoon and Hoseok that made you hold them a little bit closer to your heart. Age probably had something to do with it, they were right behind you and Yoongi, but they were the two you didn’t get to see much of. They were popular, they had outside friends, they had other hobbies that led them astray from the group for periods of time.
Whenever they came around you had to hold them close, you weren't sure when you’d get to do it again.
Taehyung showed his face shortly after Hobi, peeking his head in the door when you were toying with Hobi’s fingers, listening to him tell you stories about writing and recording. The dark, curly hair didn’t catch your eye until after Yoongi helped Hoseok escape.
The second youngest tiptoed in in a get up you couldn’t believe for this hour of the morning, but Taehyung was always ready for a camera. The boy could wear trash bags and he’d look old Hollywood glamorous. He arrived at your side with a charming smile and tight hug, taking the spot Hobi was just in.
“You’re glowing,” he said, his deep voice quiet. Rolling your eyes, you laugh.
“I’m sweating,” you joked. Smiling, Taehyung hovered a hand over your bump, giving you a look as if to ask if he could put his hand on you. With a small nod you smirk and he rests his hand on you carefully.
“Where’s Jungkook? I figured he’d be stuck to your side,” he said, eyes on your little one, moving his hand around respectfully, feeling where the baby was resting.
Breathing through a laugh, you said, “He and Jimin went for a walk. He was stuck to my side, Jimin had to get him out of here so he could get something to eat.” Taehyung shook his head with a grin.
“Was Jungkook at Jimin’s last night?” Yoongi asked Taehyung, joining the two of you once Hoseok was free of the room. Shooting your boyfriend a soft glare, he shrugged his shoulders innocently in response. Neither of you knew what Taehyung did or didn’t know, hell, neither of you were sure if anyone else had picked up what the two of you have.
Jungkook and Jimin were a thing. They had been for a while. And nobody has said one word about it.
“I think so,” Taehyung answered, keeping his gaze down for a moment before he takes a look at Yoongi. “How’re you doing?” A quick change of subject. Either he knew and didn’t want to discuss it, or he didn’t want to give anything away. His expression didn’t falter either. You weren’t getting an ounce of information out of him.
Yoongi sighed, attempted a smile and reached for your hand. “Fine. Good, doing good.” The nod of his head was sporadic and nervous. It made Taehyung laugh.
“I’m convinced,” he said. He parted his lips to say more, but he was cut off by the door opening and Jungkook himself waltzing inside, alone. “Jungkookie,” Taehyung sung, standing up to give his friend a quick hug. The youngest, chewing on something, threw his arms around Taehyung and shook him side to side with a puffy cheeked smile. “Where’s Jimin?”
“Outside with everyone,” Jungkook said, pulling away from his brother to check out his get up. “You’re lying to me right now, Tae.” The youngest tugged on Taehyung’s button down and smirked. “We’re having a baby, not meeting the Queen.”
“We’re having a baby?!” Yoongi nearly shrieked, the lot of you laughing so loud it prompted Namjoon to stick his head inside the door.
“We okay?” he asked, smiling as soon as he saw everyone else doing so.
Yoongi, throwing his head backward, howled, “What’s with this we stuff!?”
Namjoon crossed the threshold, and right behind him followed Jin, then Sunny, then Hoseok, then Jimin, to which Jungkook waited patiently. His eyes were studying the doorway, his smile fading to something small as he watched for Jimin.
“What’s going on?” Sunny asked, giving you a good look.
“We’re all having a baby, you didn’t know that?” Yoongi twisted his brows and gestured to everyone in the room. Laughter rang out once more, wrapping you in blissful sweetness.
Sunny perched herself on the end of the bed, resting a hand on one of your legs, and Jungkook took his place beside you, handing you the water you were supposed to be sipping on. Yoongi, clutching your hand, caught Namjoons ear, the leader sitting in a chair behind him to ask him all about the morning. Taehyung and Jimin were hanging over Sunny, listening to her talk about experiences you both shared throughout the pregnancy, and how the last two weeks leading up to this moment had gone down.
Jin, lingering around everybody, wandered back and forth, watching everyone speak to one another quietly. With Yoongi’s hand in one of yours and Jungkook watching over the other, all you could do was study him, watch him take everything in with the ghost of a smile on his lips. His gaze fixed on Sunny for a moment, eyes drifting to the bump she was gesturing toward, then back to her bare beautiful face.
You’ve never spoken to Jin about Sunny in depth before, you figured that was their business, but the way he looked at her reminded you of the way Yoongi looked at you the day you agreed to move in with him, to live with him and build a home together. It was years ago now, but you had never seen his eyes full of such deep, unconditional love. Nor had you ever seen Jin this way.
He caught you looking at him, and when your eyes met all you could do was give him a knowing smile. If you could read his mind right in this moment, you prayed that your flighty best friend, afraid of tying herself down, wouldn't screw this up.
Around four o’clock in the afternoon a nurse came into your room while you and Yoongi were snoozing all alone, hand in hand. The last time one of the lovely ladies had come in to check on you, you were only four centimeters dilated, which was not what you had wanted to hear. It was time for your little one to come out, and they didn’t want to.
The nurse didn’t even bother to turn on the light, the sunlight from the windows was plenty for her. Yoongi lifted his head as she came in, giving her a sleepy greeting. Barely opening your eyes, you shifted on the bed to lay primarily on your back and took in the sight of the brand new nurse you hadn’t seen yet today.
Creaking your eyes all the way open, you picked your head up and furrowed your brows. “Who’re you?”
Puttering around the room checking everything out, doing her job like she was supposed to, she smiled and turned to face you. “Anya. Our shifts just changed, I’m taking over for Charlotte, who you had all day today. If you’re still here tomorrow morning, which I hope you aren’t,” Anya and Yoongi shared a laugh, “She’ll be back. I promise.”
Her words didn’t appease you like they did your boyfriend. “She was literally here since I got here, how are you supposed to pick up on everything she was doing with me all day?” You didn’t mean for your words to sound nasty, but you couldn’t help it. How was somebody brand new going to understand what you’ve been through since you had arrived?
Anya nodded, finished what she was doing at one of the monitors, then stepped closer to your side in her sage green scrubs. “I get what you’re saying,” she said, sneaking Yoongi a sideways sympathetic glance. “It’s totally normal to feel that way, especially since Charlotte was literally here all day with you. You got checked in about twelve hours ago, that’s a long time to be with one nurse.”
Taking a deep breath, your glare refuses to soften, even as you feel a contraction pooling within you.
“We aren’t always able to say goodbye when we switch shifts, but I can tell you that Charlotte and I discussed everything. She adored you, and she asked for me specifically to take over your care. I know safety is very important to both of you,” Yoongi dropped his eyes and bobbed his head, “I can tell you right now, I’m coming in here fresh off a good night’s rest, a cup of coffee to keep me perky, and a drive to make sure you get the best care I can possibly give you.”
Your abdomen roared, but you still managed to say, “Day’s rest.” Anya cocked her head in question, folding her hands in front of her. “You said night’s rest. Your a night nurse, you get a good day’s-”
You weren’t even able to finish the joke you were trying to make. In the end it wouldn’t have been funny anyway. The contraction ripped through you like a crashing ocean wave. Unable to think about anything other than squeezing Yoongi’s hand, the brand new nurse by your side talked you through it. By the end of it, after that wave of tight soreness had receded, Anya noted what had happened, then praised you for making it through.
“You’re tough, Mama,” she said. She worked a bit more on things in the room, letting you and Yoongi have a moment together before she turned around to take the pitcher off your bedside table. “I’ll be back with some more ice, if you contract while I’m gone you breathe through it like you just did, you’re doing great.”
Yoongi jumped to his feet. “I can take that, you don’t have to-”
“You sit back down,” Anya said. “There isn’t a reason you need to leave her side today. Let me take care of you.” She left the room with a smile, closing the door quietly.
Back in his seat Yoongi met your gaze and shrugged. “I like her.”
Swallowing hard, you took a breath and said, “Me too.”
Three hours and four centimeters later, you were utterly exhausted. Yoongi had been getting ten minutes of shut eye here and there, and so have you, but your energy was depleted the second you opened your eyes.
Anya continued to be fantastic. The nurse you had all morning and afternoon was good at what she had done, but Anya was going the extra mile. She reminded you of Sunny the way she handled taking care of you. It was motherly, gentle, yet a bit stern, but all the more lovely. The two had a conversation at one point, and sure enough, they got along perfectly.
You learned that the nurse had two kids of her own, a four year old daughter and a one year old son. Her husband was an author who did a lot of work from home, allowing her to come do her job and work long shifts without worry of leaving her children with someone other than one of their parents.
It was important to her and her family that they created bonds with one another, and strengthened their connections, and learned about one another, and helped each other grow… The more you heard about her, the more you loved her. The more she inspired you, inspired Yoongi. You could only dream of your family being a sliver like hers, only your roles reversed.
Yoongi, working longer hours, being away for periods of time while you did most of your work from home where you could watch over your little one instead of leaving her with someone else. Not that it was a bad thing to leave your child with another caregiver, you just preferred it be one of their parents. Considering who Yoongi was, and what world your family was a part of… It was just better to keep your little one with their parents.
Of course there were seven other people you’d trust your child with, one of them was laying beside you right now. Holding one of your hands, massaging the palm, Jungkook was taking deep breaths in sync with you as you laid on his shoulder, complete dead weight hanging on him.
Yoongi had his eyes shut, laying backward in the chair, arms folded over his chest to get a little bit of rest knowing you were in good hands.
“We can get drinks, and greasy burgers,” he was listing things for the two of you to do after you pushed the little one out. It was to ease your nerves, and at the same time give you something to look forward to postpartum. Right now he was telling you what you could do in the states… If you were allowed to go with them.
Eyes fluttering shut, you groaned. “I’m starving, Kookie.”
Jungkook pouted, digging a tattooed knuckle in the meat of your palm. “I know,” he whispered. “As soon as this baby comes out I’ll get you anything you want.”
“Yoongi, too,” you sighed, keeping your voice low. “He hasn’t had anything all day.”
“You’re joking,” Jungkook breathed.
“I’m not,” you said. “He’s either too nervous, or he won’t eat because I can’t.”
Jungkook shook his head. “He’s too good of a man.”
With a giggle you glance at your boyfriend snoozing in the chair. “You’re telling me.”
Jungkook placed both his thumbs at the base of your wrist, massaging the skin there. “He loves you. A lot.” Your head found his shoulder once more.
“I love him too. A lot.”
“I know,” Jungkook smiled. Turning your head so that you could look up at the boy, he meets your eyes quickly, spies the question within them, then directs his attention back to his work on your palm. “You’re funny.”
“Am I?” you asked within a whisper. “You can tell me, Kookie.”
Jungkook gulped. His eyes pointed down, he slows his ministrations, then puts your conjoined hands on the bed between your bodies. His round cheeks and deep brown eyes flashed a thousand different emotions, the gears spinning in his head as he fought for something to say, if he were to say anything.
“It’s… complicated,” he breathed. You remained still, his words paralyzed you. You were afraid if you moved you would scare him off. “He’s…” Jungkook turned to look at you again, a yearning in his eyes. “I’ve loved him since I was seventeen.” Your heart twisted with his words, a warmth accompanied by a pain exploded within your chest.
These were the words you’ve been dying to hear.
“He’s impossible to catch,” he said. Your memories resurface of years past, times when you caught the two in their own world. Each time it was Jungkook pining, and Jimin being Jimin. The oldest of the pair was impossible to catch, that much was true. He was flighty, he couldn’t be held back, he was himself. He was like Sunny, he had to be doing what he wanted to do. There wasn’t a soul that could tell Jimin what to do.
And here was Jungkook. A being that craved that energy, and had some within him that grew stronger whenever the two were together, but Jungkook needed stability, he needed reassurance. He needed somebody who was all for him, and only him. Someone he could count on, someone he could… have a life with.
Jimin was loyal, caring, and a fantastic friend… but thinking it over now, he was the complete opposite of the boy beside you. Even their star signs were Yin and Yang.
“What are you guys now?” you asked in a whisper. Jungkook stilled himself.
“Complicated.” Was all he said.
“Does he know?” you asked, and he knew what you meant. One look from him was confirmation enough. “Does he…” You were afraid to finish.
Jungkook took a long, unsatisfying deep breath. “Yeah. He does.”
A contraction was brewing. You could feel it. And at this point they were unbearable. Tossing his hand onto his lap, you started to take your recommended breaths and threw a hand repeatedly toward Yoongi, beckoning Jungkook to wake him up.
“Okay, okay,” he said quickly, jumping to his feet. “Keep breathing.” The youngest hurried to Yoongi’s side and woke him gently, catching him up to what was going on, and in seconds your boyfriend was at your side, clinging onto one of your hands, talking you through the pain.
Jungkook stood behind him, a decent distance away, biting the nail of his thumb, watching the floor like it was the most interesting thing in the world out of respect, and a little out of fear. He was excited this whole baby thing was happening, but this part scared him. And rightfully so, because once this contraction began to pass, Anya entered the room with a familiar doctor to check up on you, and they told you it was time.
Ten centimeters. Doctor confirmation.
It was time.
Anya’s stunning smile was meant to calm the anxiety that just erupted in your entire being, but it did little. Even Yoongi’s eyes shot open wide, your boyfriend unable to hide what he was feeling.
Jungkook. The only other thought that popped into your brain, he was still in the room. Jungkook’s jaw dropped, and not a single word escaped him. It was around seven o’clock in the evening. If you managed to get this baby out of you soon, they would share a birthday.
The world was a blur, each and every moment that you strived to remember was passing by entirely too fast leaving you with very little recognition of what was even going on. You were transferred into another room, Anya, the doctor and Yoongi going with you. Sunny and Jin were the two to join you in the room, Sunny by your side and Yoongi on the other with Jin behind him for support.
You couldn’t process any of it. The pain, the doctors and nurses speaking, Yoongi and your friends sharing words, speaking praises to you that you couldn't comprehend. Your mind and your body were exhausted. At this point in the day, having laid here for hours without the ability to drift off into a peaceful sleep, you were wrecked. You and Yoongi had arrived at this hospital early this morning without a night of sleep either, both of you were relying heavily on a couple minutes of shut eye, not having slept since the night before this one.
This should’ve been the end. This should’ve been the moment your baby arrived, but she was stubborn.
For two hours you laid in this room, pushing and pushing and pushing. Yoongi remained by your side, but Sunny and Jin were popping in and out, staying for longer than they were gone for. The last time Sunny stepped out of the room was to grab something to pull your hair back with.
Tears graced your cheeks for a couple minutes, your boyfriend sweeping them away as they fell, popping kisses to the top of your head and you squeezed the life out of his fingers. Two hours. He watched you groan and writhe in pain for two hours. Somehow, someway, he was still the poster boy of patience. The moment he stepped into this room he was a composed being, for your sake, though he watched the doctors and nurses like a hawk.
The only time he spoke to Jin was when he muttered to him to call his parents, quietly, hoping you wouldn’t hear him, but you did. You fought away any thoughts of your own and focused on pushing this baby out of you.
Yoongi holding one of your legs, Sunny keeping your hair out of your face and off of your neck, patting your forehead with cool, wet, paper towels, and Jin running the errands in and out of the room, it was excruciating. Two hours.
If it was possible to believe, between each contraction and breaks of pushing, you were falling asleep. Anya was coaching you to stay awake, as was your family by your side. It felt impossible. The pain, the stress, the way you felt as if you couldn’t breathe… It was impossible.
Grabbing hold of Yoongi’s shirt, balling it up in your fist between a contraction, you heaved a sob and pulled your boyfriend close to you. He leaned over you, kissing your sweaty forehead and placed his there for a second. “I can’t do it,” you mumbled, lip quivering. Yoongi gazed down at you, feeling his own fear bubble up before he placed a hand on top of your hair. “I can’t, D, I can’t. I’m sorry.”
“Shhh,” he soothed, kissing your forehead again. “Don’t apologize, baby. You can do this. You are doing it. They said she’s almost here, you just have a little bit more, and then we can meet our daughter.”
Sucking in a quick, shaky breath, feeling the next contraction on the way with little time to rest, you shut your eyes tight and cried. “No-no-I-can’t-do-it-I-can’t-I-can’t-”
Sunny took you by the shoulder, her own forehead sweaty, her eyes glimmering with tears. Anya was right behind her watching over you. “You look at me right now,” she said, her tone strict, packing a punch. Following directions you meet her beautiful face. “You need to breathe. If you don't, you're gonna make yourself sick.”
Beeping sounded from somewhere in the back, a noise that triggered Anya to hurry away from you. Sunny’s warm eyes held yours. “You are the last person I know who would admit she couldn’t do something. I know you. You can take this like it’s nothing. Do not let that inner voice take this away from you, take your child away from you. Do you hear me?”
Another sob came from your chest. Just as Sunny was about to say more, your boyfriend was raising his voice at the doctors and nurses speaking quietly to him and one another. Whipping your head in his direction, the contraction almost at full blast, you find him angry, tight lipped, and terrified beyond belief. Jin had placed a hand on his shoulder for comfort.
“You’ll have to scrub up,” Anya said to him before turning to you, coming close enough to hold your hand. “You’re rocking it, sweetie. There’s little to worry about right now, okay? We’ve got this all under control, I just need you to listen to me.” A small nod from you was enough. “Baby’s heart rate keeps dropping. A little too much for our liking. And seeing as though she does not want to come out this way, we’re going to need to do an emergency cesarean. A c-section.”
Nausea. Dizziness. Your chest tightened. “What?” you gasped. Anya nodded. Yoongi’s voice was carrying over everyone else's, but you couldn’t make out anything he was saying. You could hear Jin speaking as well.
“Look at me,” Anya said softly, getting your attention back that had started to drift, either into sleep or toward where your boyfriend was. “For you and the baby. I promised to keep you both safe.” Your throat tightened as tears spilled onto your cheeks. “Do this for her.”
Your breath picked up, the kind that fed into the dizziness. Panic flooded your senses. All you could do was barely nod, and mumble a convincing, “Yes.” The look on Yoongi’s face was one you never wanted to see ever again. You had to do this for him. You had to do this for your baby. She had to come out safely, you had to make it through this safely.
Taking Yoongi’s hand before you were rushed from the room, he pressed a kiss to your lips and let his tears fall. You mustered up enough energy to tell him three words that Anya had given confirmation to. “It’s a girl.”
In the waiting room of the hospital, just down the hall from where you’re supposed to be having your baby, five sleepy, antsy boys are waiting for one of their friends to rush over to tell them the news.
Jimin, dozing off on Jungkook's shoulder while the youngest let his thoughts eat away at him, had cuddled up to him a little over twenty minutes ago when Jin gave confirmation that you were still pushing. He did his best to hide his worry, but it didn’t work. Jin was conscious, and able to hear clearly when the hospital staff spoke. It wasn’t looking too good.
You and the baby were both… not going to do well if they continued on this way. Jin knew it was going to end in a c-section. It was the only way.
Namjoon, Taehyung and Hoseok sat in a circle on the floor. Empty food containers and cans sat around them, the crew finishing their dinner that they had to fight down. Everyone was so anxious, it was hard to do anything else other than sit and twiddle their thumbs, cracking the occasional stiff air clearing joke.
Jungkook stared off into space, finding interest in his boots, trying his best to not think about Jimin on his shoulder, or you, down the hall in pain. He was hoping that Jimin finding sanctuary on him would ease some of the stress he was dealing with, but it seemed to add more. On his own damn birthday, he couldn’t catch a break.
You having your baby on his birthday, that was exciting, and he couldn’t wait for it to happen. He couldn’t wait to meet your child, hold them, watch them grow up. But, the person he loved like an older sister, a figure who aided in his upbringing for so many years of his life now, was in pain, and hurting, and going through something unimaginable.
He couldn’t imagine how Yoongi felt if it was tearing him up like this. Having to watch it all happen, and not be able to do anything about it…
A quiet sob carried down the hall to the five of them. Jimin lifted his head. Their attention was pointed at the corner, waiting to see who was turning around it.
Jin, with a crying Sunny tucked into his chest. The beauty had her eyes down and a hand covering half of her face. The five boys sat up at attention, watching the couple find a seat, Sunny curling into Jin's body to cry quietly as he held her close.
Jungkooks heart sank so deep it could’ve fallen out of him. His eyes were wide and full of fear as they stared at Jin, waiting for him to say something. Anything.
The eldest looked around at the boys. He took his time to take each one in before he said, “C-section.” A sigh of relief came out of four, all except Jungkook. Jin assumed they were waiting for horrific news. When he found Jungkook’s terror filled eyes watching him, he sent the youngest a small smile and nodded. “She’s okay. She’s going to be okay.” Jungkook looked at Sunny to ask why she was a mess. Jin’s smile turned cheesy. “She’s tired,” he said, rubbing a hand on her back.
“And I can’t go with her,” Sunny cried, sitting up to look at her pouting audience. “I’m supposed to be there with her, she wanted me there.” Jungkook felt tears pool in his eyes. Sunny was the one bit of family that you had left from home. He completely empathized.
“We’ll hear from them soon,” Jin said, easing Sunny back into him. “Yoongi’s got her. You know he won’t let anything happen to her.”
“Truth,” Namjoon nodded, everyone else agreeing with Jin in some way or another.
You were Yoongi’s everything. He would do everything in his power to keep you safe.
On September 1st, 2021 at nine thirty-eight at night, your baby girl was born.
From beyond the curtain that divided you from the doctors, where Yoongi was able to watch the whole thing while remaining by your side, you both got to hear her cry. The sound was sharp and ragged, yet tiny, like she was angry that the doctors had disturbed her slumber. Crying with her, you and Yoongi both, the doctors hurried her away to make sure she was alright, then they swaddled her up and popped her into your boyfriend's arms.
His eyes lit up, full of love, full of pride. He didn’t waste a second. Crouching down he held her between you, pressing her bare cheek to your own, and you swore your heart melted. Unable to feel a thing but your daughter's smooth baby skin against your own, you couldn’t help but begin to cry. Calm now, eyes open just a bit, she gazed up at her father, a carbon copy of him.
“Let me kiss her,” you whispered, voice broken. Yoongi lifted her over you, where you pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek. “I wanna hold her.”
“Soon,” Anya said, still in the room with you. “We’re going to get you back to your room, okay? They’re going to take Baby Girl for more tests, and she’ll be in your arms in no time.” You frowned, your tears continuing to fall.
“Why are they taking her?” you whined. Yoongi held onto your daughter and eyed Anya carefully, already feeling protective over his girls.
The nurse smiled. It took a special person to do her job. You already knew if you had to deal with yourself you would not be this calm. “To help her. To make sure everything is okay. I’ll be right there, and then I’ll be back to check on you.”
Yoongi kissed his daughter's head and slipped her into Anya’s arms hesitantly. “Be careful.” Anya’s smile remained.
“Why don’t you go tell your family she’s here,” she suggested, gesturing to the door. Yoongi looked down at you for an answer. He hadn’t left your side the entire day. In fact, he hadn’t left your side in almost five days. He was about to agree until he watched your eyes flutter shut.
“Hey,” he said quietly, placing a hand to your cheek. Your sleepy eyes opened for a moment, then began to close once more. “Baby, stay awake.” Anya could make out the fear in his tone. Taking the baby where she needed to go, she hurried back to help him out.
“She’s okay,” she soothed, taking his arm. “I promise you, she’s okay. She’s exhausted, and so are you.”
“But she’s-”
The doctors were finishing their work, did they even know you were… falling asleep?
“She’s exhausted,” Anya pointed to a machine beeping in the corner. “If it were anything else, that thing would be going crazy.”
Yoongi followed her finger, and took a deep breath. Looking down at your half open blinking eyes again, he sighed heavily.
“I want a burger,” you whispered before closing them completely.
Anya stifled a laugh, then turned to your boyfriend. “You heard the girl,” she raised her brows. “Go get her a burger. And tell your family your daughter has made her debut in the world.”
The clock read eleven fifteen at night. Your daughter was just over two hours old. Back in the room you started the day in, you were sitting up with her cradled in your arms fast asleep, still swaddled up in the little blanket the doctors had put her in. Yoongi sat on the bed next to you, one of his hands resting on your thigh, watching you watch your baby, eyes full of love the way he was when she was handed to him a couple hours ago.
A styrofoam container with a half eaten burger sat on the bedside table, as did a vase of flowers that came from the boys in the lobby. Yoongi followed instructions and did as he was told, rushing out of the operating room to the angsty boys and Sunny in the waiting room, jumping up and down twice as he cheered the news.
Jungkook and Sunny had leapt to their feet and hurried over to Yoongi, throwing their arms around him. Jin was next, hugging Yoongi entirely too tight, not letting his relief show too clearly. He kept a strong face all day for his best friend. He didn’t need him to know he was scared shitless as well. But, you made it. You both did. Your little family did.
The moment you were back in your room with your baby, your crew gave you twenty minutes maximum alone before they were knocking at the door, softly begging to come in and meet the baby, and of course to see you.
A chorus of soft coo’s echoed in the air when they were allowed in, Yoongi doing the hosting while you recovered in bed cradling your daughter. When Jungkook's feet met the tile of your room his eyes were on you, wide and attentive. He barely gave the baby a glance as he tried to not look like he was rushing to your side.
Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he released a breath he had been holding since Jin told him you were going into surgery. You were okay. You were sitting here in front of him, holding your baby, doing okay.
“I’m good,” you had told him. All he could do was nod, then look down at the baby girl cradled in your arms. His lips parted in awe, his eyes softening.
“She’s you,” he said, looking up at Yoongi. Everyone had stopped their chatter, their attention focused on Jungkook, the baby, and you. They shared their hushed agreement. It was more than evident that your daughter looked just like her father with her already prominent feline features. “Can I hold her?” he asked with hope, turning toward you.
With a glance to Yoongi who was nodding his head, you gestured him closer as you shouldn’t be doing too much movement, and slowly shifted your girl into his muscly arms. His lips formed a small ‘o’, pouting as she stirred a bit. His eyebrows flipped over. You were watching big, bad, tattooed, now twenty-four year old Jungkook melt into a puddle.
Jimin tiptoed behind him and leaned against his back, resting his chin on Jungkook's shoulder. “She’s beautiful,” he said, giving you and Yoongi a smile. Jungkook turned to look at him, the two sharing a quick, close second, one that someone could've missed if they blinked, and then their eyes were back on the baby.
Everyone had gotten the chance to hold her. Everybody was there who needed to be there. It was a beautiful, horrific, relentless, unforgiving, glorious day. Your daughter was here. The three of you were officially a family.
Now, at this hour of the night, just the three of you in the room, it felt real. It seemed to be hitting you all at once now that it was quiet. Your body was exhausted, as was your mind, but you couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of happiness, one so strong you had never felt it before. The love you didn’t know you had for this little one could drown you.
Yoongi shifted closer to the two of you, resting a hand on the bed behind you so he could look down at his twin. You studied him, taking in how his heart seemed to burst out of him as well. He met your gaze and smiled.
“I’m so proud of you,” he whispered, fighting away the quiver in his voice. Your eyes stung with tears, but you weren’t sure if you had any left. “That was the most badass thing I have ever seen you do.” He brushed a thumb over your cheek to swipe away a tear, then he leaned in to kiss you, one long and full of love. Then, he placed one on his daughter's cheek, one soft, and gentle, just barely touching her delicate skin.
“She’s perfect,” he whispered, keeping his voice low for the sleeping baby. You smiled, holding in a laugh.
You gazed at him lovingly and said, “She’s you.” Jungkook had said it, and he was right.
“But, she’s half of you,” he countered, eyes dancing over your face. “Two halves of us.”
“I hope she got the good halves,” you joked, then regretted it when you saw Yoongi’s expression falter.
“You’re telling me,” he said, looking down at his girl. You reached out to tuck some of his hair behind his ear and offered him a smile.
“It’s like you promised me at home,” you began, making him lift his eyes to meet yours. “Like how we’ll tell her all about today?” He nodded. “We can tell her all about us. Everything we’ve been through. Being a person is hard, we have to help her.”
Yoongi gave you a small smile. “Together. We’ll help her together.”
“Of course,” you smiled.
The door to the room opened slowly. Both you and Yoongi looked toward it thinking it was Anya coming to take the baby to the nursery, but you were instead greeted by a smiling Jungkook. Yoongi released a gentle sigh, then stood up waving the boy into the room.
“They haven't taken her yet, right?” he asked, walking over to you, holding something behind his back. Looking from him, to the baby, back to him, you smiled. “Thank god.”
“What do you have?” you asked smugly as he sat down where Yoongi had been. Your boyfriend hovered by your head, watching the scene ensue. Jungkook, who couldn’t take his eyes off your daughter, grinned and took it out from behind his back. A small, sage green blanket that was rolled up nicely, tied together with a matching ribbon. He handed it over to you, the soft fabric touching your skin making you sigh.
“Oh my god,” you muttered, trying to unroll it with one hand. “Take her,” you said, looking at Jungkook who jumped into action with a grin, scooping your baby from your arms, holding her close to his chest. Unraveling the ribbon, you unrolled the insanely soft fabric and groaned in disbelief. The blanket was small enough that it would last her a few years before she grew out of it. It was a stunning shade of sage green that matched her bedroom… and Anya’s scrubs.
Looking up at Yoongi, he was already smiling. With a nod he let you know that he already knew what you realized. Pointing your attention to Jungkook who was nearly nose to nose with your daughter, he was admiring her so intently, you hold the blanket to your heart.
“Thanks Uncle Kookie,” you said, and his eyes widened.
“She can call me that?” His question almost came out all at once.
“Course she can,” Yoongi said, then gave the youngest a big smile. “Happy Birthday, Kook.”
Jungkook’s lips pulled down, but he quickly gulped away his tears. Looking from Yoongi, to you, to your daughter, he kissed the top of her head and whispered, “Happy Birthday, little one. Best day ever.”

VEGAS TAGS! <3
( I feel as thought I haven't updated in a while. If I missed your tag please let me know. )
@jewelrnicorn @yoongisducky @all-american-fangirl @funkylittlebisexuall @ahewlett @damn-u-min-yoongi @my-dark-happy-place @wobblewobble822

thank you for reading, I hope you’ve enjoyed this piece!
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Gt WAC Day 7

In reference to @evieismol The Big Bend

BLOOM. °˖✧✿✧˖° (ongoing)
She made him bloom, but he made her wilt. All he wanted was for her to bloom… to make her bloom. Only for him.
Jeon Jungkook x fem reader
꧁Chapter list꧂
⚘Intro
⚘1. Wilt
⚘2. Wild Flower
⚘3. Flower or Weeds?
⚘4. Spring is Gone
⚘5. The Change in Seasons
⚘6. Planting the Wrong Seed
┏━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━┓
✿ Synopsis: Y/N has been hooking up with Jungkook for quite some time now, and despite the fact that it was supposed to remain casual, things didn’t turn out that way. It was supposed to be a single night together, but one night just wasn’t enough once Jungkook got a taste. Lust quickly blossomed into love, and they grew closer over time. The only issue is that Jungkook is married, and Y/N is plagued with guilt. She thought she could handle it, because her love for him was much stronger than any reservations she had in the beginning… but she recently started realizing how wrong she was, how wrong they were together. What started as two flowers growing on separate sides of the fence, turned into vines becoming intertwined and mutated as the two flowers desperately tried to reach each other on the other side. One flower flourished and bloomed beautifully even as their roots melded together… the other flower wilted slowly over time under the weight of another. The only way to save herself, to save both of them, was to cut the cord. No matter how badly she wanted to watch him bloom forever, this couldn’t go on. If only they knew how impossible it would be to stay away from each other. Fate is a bitch sometimes, karma is all the time.
✿ Pairings: cheater/photographer/married!JK x fem/mistress!reader
✿ Genre: Forbidden love
✿ Disclaimer: This story does not in any way reflect the character of those who are mentioned through out the story. This story is fiction and just for fun, nothing is real.
✿ Warnings: 18+ only, MDNI, for mature audiences. This story will contain lots of emotion, sensitive subjects, angst, fluff, and smut. The smut will vary, but there will be a warning on each chapter which will state what to expect and be aware of when reading. Although this story does contain quite a bit of smut at times, it is NOT meant to be just smut. This story is based around infidelity and will be showing the consequences of cheating on each persons side. It will reflect how cheating can happen, how it can escalate, how it can affect everyone involved, and how karma truly is a bitch at times. But, that is not all that it is. There will be lots of twists and turns, drama, as well as more sweet sides to the story. If you don’t want an emotional and drama filled story, this may not be for you.
✿ A/N: Hello! If you saw my previous drabble, you know that I mentioned I have a lot of drafted fanfics. This is one of them!
I wanted to provide some backstory on this before you read it lol. Don’t judge me too much but this was actually inspired by a conversation I had with a bot on C.ai 💀 but also, about two years ago I got out of a five year relationship to the dude I swore I’d marry, because I found out he had been cheating on me.
This entire experience was very rough for me, I had a lot of unresolved trauma and resentment from that relationship for the first year, and I started writing this as a way to sort of cope? Idk, I know it may sound weird but during that time I started writing a looot of different stories with different plots to just kind of get my mind off of the hurt, and this is one of them! I started writing this as kind of a way to see things from another side of the situation.
But a huuuge disclaimer, I do not support cheating, do not agree with it under any circumstances, and think it is wrong. With that being said, everyone is different. I am not one to judge. This story does not really reflect the way I was cheated on, although I may have things in common with Y/N. As I said before, I wrote this as a way to cope. Please keep in mind throughout this story that it isn’t real, it’s just for entertainment! Kind of like those crazy dramas you see. If you’ve ever seen the K-Drama “Love Ft. Marriage and Divorce” you know what I mean. It’s one of my favs. Anyway, I hope you like it, it is going to be a rollercoaster that’s for sure. Thank you for reading the intro, the first chapter will be posted shortly after this! 🥰
This story is meant to illustrate the consequences of cheating on all sides, but also is meant to show how having a relationship that lacks honesty, communication, and love can effect those involved as well. Communication is sooo important when you’re in a relationship, honesty too, and lacking both of those can seriously ruin you and your partner.
If you take a look at the picture above, it should give you the feel of what the vibes will be in this story. (I worked really hard on that I hope you like it LOL). This story is called Bloom for a reason, it has a lot of references to flowers, the way they grow and die, etc. Also photography will be prominent in this story, you’ll understand the more you read, but that’s why there are Polaroids.
Each chapter will also have at least one song (or more, but one minimum) listed before reading. I highly recommend listening to the song while reading or before because it gives you a feel for the chapter ahead, kind of sets the mood, ya know?
Overall I have kind of an attachment to this version of JK, despite the fact that he’s a cheater. But maybe that’s just because I love JK always? My lover… 😫 When I’m not writing pure smut, I tend to write more emotionally charged stories. I have a few other fics I’ll be releasing in time but wanna start slow.
I truly hope you like this story, but I know it isn’t for everyone. If any of you have read Silk Sheets (changed my life, read it on WP if ur a slut for Jimin) you know that that story got a looot of mixed feelings, it’s why my above warning is so thorough. BUT if you like drama and twists and turns and forbidden love, I think you’ll love this.
Thank you for taking the time to read this! ❤️
┗━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━┛
No disrespect to the original post whatsoever! I just wanted to say something stupid along the lines of “huh.. why does this remind me of the main character from Heaven Official’s Blessing?”
You’re a deity of something small and seemingly unimportant. You’re the first one the people stop praying and sacrificing to when things get dire. Oh, what fools they are.
he found a poster for a phineas and ferb theme party and just. decided to go. oh my god 😭
Rereading the Lord of the Rings series recently, and it's so fascinating to me how much the series is a denial of the typical juvenile power-fantasy that is associated with the fantasy genre.
Like, the power-fantasy is the temptation the Ring uses against people It tempts Boromir with becoming the "one true king" that could save his people with fantastic power. It tempts Sam with being the savior of Middle Earth and turning the ruin that is Mordor into a great garden. It tempts Gandalf and Galadriel with being the messianic figure of legend who brings salvation to Middle Earth and great glory to herself.
The things the Ring tempts people with are becoming the typical protagonists of fantasy stories that we expect to see. and over and over we see that accepting that role, that fantasy of being the benevolent all-powerful hero, is a bad thing. LotR is about how power, even power wielded with benevolent intent, is corrupting.
And its so fascinating how so much of modern fantasy buys into the very fantasy LotR denies. Most modern fantasy is about being that Heroic power-fantasy. About good amassing power to rival evil. But LotR dares not to. It dares to be honest that there is no world where anyone amasses that power and remains good.
I guess that's one of the reasons its so compelling.

Pokémon Trainer: Flying-Type 🦇 Inspired by @alelelesimz trainers!
-ˋˏ✄ ━━━━━━━━━━━━ ⊱⚰️⊰ ━━━━━━━━━ 「 cc ↓ 」 ━━
Genetics Hair + Ombre + Overlay | Eyes | Teeth Clothes Dress Accessories Earrings | Bracelets | Necklace | Pokéball



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C R E A T O R S
Genetics @squea @icchixxxxxx1 @tricoufamily @poyopoyosim
Clothes @strangestorytellersims
Accessories @nolan-sims @natalia-auditore @shandir
Pokémon Zubat, Golbat & Crobat by Fontoura3d Woobat by model3d42 Swoobat by TheAdorableOshawott Noibat by zzzMonkiezzz
𓆩☆𓆪 Oh, baby!

- A girl dad!kuroo anthology -
Notes: this will be a series that will be uploaded in parts over time sporadically! There’s no set date for anything I upload, it’s just a universe I’ve created here. I’ve been really excited to share this so I hope you all enjoy!
Reblogs and interaction much appreciated!

☆baby fever [nsfw]
synopsis: a coworker brings their baby to work, and that sets off the gears in kuroo’s head to have some of your own
☆ glass heart [fluff]
synopsis: kuroo meets his newborn daughter for the very first time and contemplates the meaning of fatherhood
☆baby shower mayhem [fluff, angst]
synopsis: when a former school rival of your husband's shows up to your baby shower, you can only hope that things won't turn upside down. but with the reveal of some secrets of your own, it's unlikely it'll stay that way.
☆ mother’s day [fluff, angst]
synopsis: kuroo fathoms how his childhood has affected his life growing up into adulthood, and ultimately fatherhood
☆suit & tie [fluff]
synopsis: your daughter is roped up in kuroo’s scheming nature
☆a guide to being married to a pretty man [fluff]
synopsis: navigating outings with your babies and gorgeous husband who’s (tragically) too distracting for the public
☆remembrance [nsfw]
synopsis: kuroo reminds you how beautiful you are after having two kids, also tries to convince you to have a third
☆ fruit of the loom [fluff]
synopsis: kuroo has a very interesting choice of costumes for you and your family
