#IM OVERFLOWING WITH JOY | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mononijikayu · 2 months ago

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puddin’ pop — kamo choso.

GENRE: alternate universe - modern au!

WARNING/S: fluff, romance, opposites attract, female! reader, not safe for work (nsfw), r-18, smut, body praise, kissing, rough sex, p-i-v sex, pet names (puddin' pop, sweetie and others....), societal prejudice, love, overflowing cuteness, slice of life, humor, light-hearted, being in love, romantic gestures, healthy relationship, tender affection, sexual intercourse, aftercare, boyfriend – girlfriend relationship, depictions of sexual acts, depiction of body praise and care, depiction of naked bodies, mention of sexual innuendo, mention of alcoholic consumption, mention of sexual intercourse, metal head bf! choso, pastel girlie! gf reader, pastel girlie gf! loves her metal head bf! choso so much, everyone if you're looking for love, make sure its as stinking cute and loving as this one, its what everyone deserves!!!;

WORD COUNT: 7.8k words.

NOTE: this entire thing was inspired by this art made by the lovely ushy on twitter!!! i was just dazzled and in love with the possibilities of who metal head bf choso could be like. i was enthralled. so, a lot of credit goes to ushy for creating such spectacular art that inspires me and others well!!! please check out ushy's art and support them too!!! anyway, this is the first time choso won the polls so im happy!!! i hope you all enjoy this!!! i love you all <3

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if you want to, tip! <3

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

YOU LIKE THE FACT THAT YOU BOTH WERE DIFFERENT. Because it compliments you both so well, almost like yin and yang. At least that’s what Choso likes to say. And you agree with him. Choso and you couldn't be more different on the surface.

You were the pastel princess of the campus, always draped in floral skirts, baby pink cardigans, and bows in your hair. Everywhere you went, you seemed to bring a little sunshine and joy, something that stood out against the often drab college environment. People on campus often teased you, calling you a "walking cotton candy" or a "flower fairy."

Your boyfriend Choso, on the other hand, was a looming presence. Tall and muscular, his arms were covered in dark tattoos of skulls, serpents, and symbols no one dared to ask the meaning of. He wore black band shirts—Slayer being a favorite—ripped jeans, and chunky boots. His piercings glinted under the sun, and his eyeliner gave him a perpetual brooding look. Kamo Choso was the guy you didn’t approach unless you had to.

And because of this, people always wondered how you two could possibly be together. You couldn’t have been anymore from different worlds, galaxies entirely. Whispers never failed to follow you both wherever you went on campus, speculating that you must be too sweet for him or that he was just putting on an act. No one could see how you fit until today. And if you were being honest, you could care less about their invalid opinions.

Today was Choso’s concert with his metal band, and you hadn’t seen each other all day due to classes. And you can tell that it was already getting to you. It was fine to text him and all, but you like having your boyfriend around. You like holding him and kissing his cheeks. And he was warm. And it was getting colder. As you stood chatting with some friends outside the student union, the heads started to turn.

“Is that Choso?” one of your friends whispered, wide-eyed.

You turned, and there he was, his black combat boots stomping across the quad toward you. Your face flushed, your eyes bright eyed. Your lips peaked into a smile. But you noticed the look on his face and you couldn’t help but blink.

His face was still set in that familiar grimace that made people nervous, but you could tell immediately something was different. His hands were hidden behind his back, and his eyes flicked to the ground every few steps, like he was nervous.

“Hey, sweetie.” Choso said, his voice a soft contrast to his intimidating appearance. You could feel people watching you both, but Choso didn’t seem to notice. He reached behind him and pulled out a black band T-shirt—one with a matching Slayer skull logo to the one he was wearing.

“Uh, I was wondering if you... y’know, wanted to match tonight?” he asked, his face flushing red under the tattoos. He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, as if he wasn’t the lead guitarist of one of the loudest, most intense bands on campus. He was just your beloved boyfriend Choso, looking like a shy boy asking for a favor.

There was a moment of stunned silence from the people around you. You could feel their confusion, the gears in their heads turning as they tried to reconcile the image of the “scary goth guy” with the one standing before you, blushing and fumbling over his words.

You giggled, clicking heels as you stepped closer and took the shirt from him. “Of course, babe! I’d love to match with you tonight.” You leaned up to kiss his cheek, making his blush deepen as a soft, content smile spread across his face. “I’m thankful you thought of me at all, babe. Thank you so much.”

“I always think of you a lot, sweetie.” He says to you in reply, which only made you swoon even more as you let your body embrace his own as you squealed about how much you loved him. And he smiled, as though the world was the most beautiful place.

That was when everyone seemed to get it. They saw the way Kamo Choso looked at you like you were the most precious thing in his world, how gentle he was with you despite his intimidating exterior. They realized that underneath all the black clothes, makeup, and tattoos, he was a gentle giant—soft, sweet, and completely devoted.

The campus finally understood why you worked. And yet all at once in the same breath, still not understand it at all. But you could hardly care.

As you slipped into the matching shirt, a wave of excitement ran through you. The black Slayer logo against your usual pastel aesthetic was jarring, but you loved the idea of supporting Choso in his world. Even if metal concerts weren’t your usual scene, being there for him made it all worth it.

You walked hand in hand toward the venue where his band would be performing later that evening. You enjoyed having his fingers intertwined with yours and his skin rubbing against you. You looked at him and grinned, which he returned. You both just enjoyed each other’s company, no matter what. Well, that’s what happens when you’re each other’s world.

Onlookers still stared, trying to wrap their heads around how the “campus goth king” and the “girly sunshine queen” made sense together. It wasn’t long before one of your friends caught up with you, curiosity bubbling over.

“Okay, I have to ask. How does this even work?” she asked, her eyes bouncing between Choso’s heavy chains and your flower-printed purse. “You guys are, like, total opposites.”

Choso chuckled softly, his thumb gently rubbing the back of your hand. You smiled up at your beloved boyfriend, feeling the warmth in his gaze before answering. You didn’t even want to stop looking at him. Your boyfriend was the prettiest, loveliest boy you ever laid eyes on. And everytime you looked at him, you just fell more deeply in love.

“Well, it’s pretty simple, really.” you started, glancing at him for confirmation. He nodded for you to continue. “We balance each other. He’s got this tough look and I’m more on the bright and bubbly side, but it’s what’s inside that really matters.”

Choso squeezed your hand and added, “She brings me a lot of peace. People think I’m all dark and broody, but if there was any color in me, its my sweetie, here. She’s the one who helps me stay grounded. And honestly, I don’t think I’d ever smile this much without her.” His eyes softened as he spoke, showing a rare vulnerability. “I just….love my sweetie, you know?”

Your friend’s expression shifted from confusion to understanding, the pieces falling into place. “That’s actually... really sweet.” she admitted, looking at Choso with a bit less intimidation and a lot more curiosity. “I guess it’s just surprising because you both seem so different on the outside.”

You laughed, nudging Choso playfully. “Well, I’ve always believed it’s what’s on the inside that counts, right?”

Choso smiled shyly, looking a little embarrassed but happy. “Yeah, and we love each other. Doesn’t matter if we’re all black or pastels. We’re happy together. That’s it.”

By now, more people around you were starting to take notice, seeing the softer side of Choso they’d probably never expected. It became clear to everyone that your differences weren’t a problem—they were the reason you worked so well together. You could be the sunshine in his life, and he could be the calm, steady presence in yours.

As you approached the venue together, You could see that Choso’s bandmates were setting up the stage. They were all dressed in their usual dark, edgy attire, but they greeted you with warmth and fondness. It’s been like this for as long as you remember. They’re really the nicest people you know. And you’re happy because it means your boyfriend will always be surrounded with good people. And because of that, you would be too.

“Looking good in that shirt!” one of the band members teased, smirking at Choso as if to say, You really got her to match you, huh?

Choso grinned sheepishly, clearly proud but trying to play it cool. “Yeah, well, she’s supporting us tonight. Best girlfriend ever, right?”

You giggled and nodded, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. “Only for you, my baby.”

Before the show started, you found your place in the crowd. It was always the same one. Choso alway insisted that you always be near him as possible to not only make sure he knows you were safe — but so he can always see you and wink at you. And then you would blow back a kiss each and every time. It’s your boyfriend’s favorite part of the show.

You take a sip of your drink. People smiled at you and greeted you. You were a regular at the shows already. But it was always surreal being surrounded by people dressed in all black, while you, with your pastel skirt peeking out from under the band shirt, stood out like a daisy in a field of midnight roses. And all of them were happy to see you there too. Choso’s shows were always such a happy, safe space for you.

But as the music started, something magical happened.

The moment the first riff tore through the air, it was as though Kamo Choso transformed before your eyes. His quiet, reserved demeanor melted away, replaced by an electrifying energy that radiated from the stage. The powerful riffs and heavy beats pulsed through the venue, reverberating in your chest, and you could feel the intensity of every chord he struck. His hands, the same ones that were always so soft and tender when they held you, moved with precision and power across the strings, commanding the music with effortless grace.

Despite the raw energy of the performance, there was something oddly calming about watching him like this. Seeing him completely in his element, doing what he loved with such passion, brought you a quiet sense of pride.

Every note, every beat, seemed to echo the essence of who he was—fierce, strong, but also thoughtful and deeply connected to his art. And in that moment, it became clear just how much of himself he poured into his music. You could tell that the stage was where he felt most free, and watching him there made your heart swell.

As the concert progressed, the crowd was fully immersed in the music, their energy feeding off Choso’s commanding presence. But every now and then, amidst the chaos, his eyes would seek you out.

Between songs, during brief moments of stillness, he'd glance over in your direction, his gaze softening when he found you in the crowd. It was his silent way of making sure you were okay, that you were enjoying the show, and it warmed your heart to know that even in the middle of performing, he was still thinking of you.

And then, you noticed the shift in the crowd.

People started glancing between the two of you—first at Choso, then at you, as if they were piecing together something they hadn’t quite understood before. They saw the way he’d search for you with his eyes, the subtle smile that would tug at his lips when he spotted you. They saw how your face lit up, your cheers louder than anyone else's, a beacon of support and pride for him to latch onto.

It was as if, in that moment, the connection between the two of you was undeniable. The bond you shared became as visible as the music that surrounded you, a harmony of its own. Choso’s fans, who had admired him for his talent and stage presence, were now witnessing a softer side of him—a side that belonged solely to you. The glances from the crowd turned from curiosity to understanding, like they finally saw the deeper layers of the person who held their admiration.

And as the music swelled and the concert reached its climax, you could feel it too: the unspoken love that bridged the gap between the stage and the audience, a love that was yours and his, seen in every stolen glance, heard in every note. In that moment, it was as if the whole room was in tune with the rhythm of your connection, an energy that transcended the music itself.

When the final song came to an end, Kamo Choso walked over to the edge of the stage, still holding his guitar, and mouthed, “I love you.”

Your heart swelled as you mouthed it back, your cheeks hurting from smiling so much. You just love him so much, and it made you the happiest person alive.

After the show, a few students from campus came up to you both, clearly still surprised but now more accepting of your relationship. One girl, who you recognized from your sociology class, shyly approached you.

“You two are actually kind of... adorable together, you know?” she admitted. “I didn’t get it at first, but seeing you both... it makes sense now.”

You smiled, giving her a nod of appreciation. “Thanks. We may seem like opposites, but we’re perfect for each other.”

As you and Choso headed home later that night, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride in how you’d shown everyone that love doesn’t have to look a certain way. It doesn’t matter if you’re a pastel-wearing girly girl or a tattooed metalhead. Love is about finding someone who understands you, who balances you, and who makes your life better just by being in it.

And that’s exactly what you and Choso had—something perfectly imperfect, something that made sense in all the ways that really mattered.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

AFTER CLASSES SEPARATED YOU BOTH, YOU FINALLY CAME TOGETHER. You haven’t seen Choso since he got stuck for his violin recitals, so you were bored. It’s not like you weren’t doing anything in fashion classes, but you wanted to see him.

He was your energy boost. Just as much, he was your happy pill. And with a deadlock with your project, you needed to see him to freshen up. So, he finally had free time, he told you he’d come see you.

That’s also how you and Choso decided to go on a date, something simple yet special—just the two of you wandering through the city, hand in hand, without a care in the world. You were dressed in your usual soft pastels, a baby blue sundress fluttering around your legs as you walked, while Choso, in stark contrast, wore his typical all-black outfit. His band tee hung loosely over his broad frame, and his boots clunked with each step beside you.

As you entered the small café, people couldn’t help but glance in your direction, eyes widening at the sight of the unexpected pair. You were the picture of sweetness, like something out of a fairytale, while Choso looked like he just stepped off the stage of a rock concert. The two of you couldn’t be more different visually, yet anyone who took a closer look could see the way your fingers intertwined so naturally, how Choso’s eyes softened every time you spoke.

You found a cozy corner booth, and as you sat down, Choso immediately slid into the seat beside you rather than across from you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. He pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, and you smiled up at him, already feeling the warmth of his presence.

“What do you want, puddin’ pop?” you asked sweetly, your voice loud enough to catch the attention of the café staff nearby. The barista paused mid-order, eyes darting toward Choso, as if unsure she heard you right.

Choso, the ever-serious and brooding figure, glanced down at you with a soft chuckle, his fingers tracing light circles on your arm. “Whatever you’re getting is fine, babe.” he murmured, his tough exterior melting away completely in your presence.

The barista, clearly stunned by the interaction, couldn’t hold back her curiosity when she came to take your order. “You two… are so cute together!” she said, hesitantly at first. “I mean, I never would’ve guessed, but… it works!”

You laughed, used to the surprise reactions by now. “Thank you! Yeah, we get that a lot.”

The barista smiled, her nerves relaxing as she took your order. As she left, you turned back to Choso, your grin wide and playful. “See? Even she thinks you’re sweet, puddin’ pop.”

Choso rolled his eyes good-naturedly, though the faint blush on his cheeks betrayed how much he loved the nickname. “You and that nickname…” he muttered, but the smile tugging at his lips told you he didn’t mind one bit.

“Well, you are my puddin’ pop, aren’t you?” you teased, leaning into his side. “You’re like pudding—soft and sweet—and a lollipop, ‘cause you’re a treat.”

Choso groaned playfully, covering his face with his free hand as if embarrassed, but the warmth in his voice gave him away. “You’re gonna make me lose all my street cred, you know that?”

You giggled, giving him a peck on the cheek. “You’ll always be the cool goth guy to everyone else, but you’re my sweet puddin’ pop.”

As the two of you enjoyed your time together, sipping on drinks and sharing pastries, people in the café couldn’t stop sneaking glances. They saw the stark differences in your appearance but couldn’t deny the undeniable connection between you.

Choso’s tough exterior was all but gone when he was with you, replaced with soft smiles and gentle touches. To them, it was unexpected, but to you, it was perfectly normal. Choso, for all his darkness and edge, was the sweetest person you’d ever met, and he showed it in every little way.

But that didn’t bother you. You and your beloved boyfriend continued to talk about things that interest the two of you. Recently, he told you about his progress in some violin concertos and you told him about your progress on your final project for the design class you were in. The world was an echo when your Choso was talking, after all.

As you left the café hand in hand, Choso gave you a loving glance. “You know I’d do anything for you, right?” he asked, his voice quieter now, like it was just meant for your ears.

You smiled up at him, heart fluttering. “I know. And that’s why you’ll always be my puddin’ pop.”

And as the two of you strolled through the city, the sight of the goth guy and the pastel princess, people couldn’t help but admire how well you fit together. You were a perfect, unexpected match—proof that love doesn’t have to look a certain way.

As you and Choso wandered through the city, you could feel the occasional glances from passersby, but by now, you were so used to it that you didn’t even pay them any mind. Choso, however, always kept his guard up just a little, glancing sideways at anyone who looked too long. Not out of annoyance, but more out of protectiveness. Even though he was soft with you, he still liked to make sure no one thought they could mess with his sunshine.

You led him into a little boutique that had caught your eye, one filled with pastel-colored dresses, accessories, and things that practically screamed “you.” As soon as you walked in, you heard a small group of girls gasp near the entrance. You caught a snippet of their whispered conversation:

“Oh my God, is that him? The goth guy from campus?”

“Wait, that’s his girlfriend? I didn’t know they were actually dating. They’re so... different!”

“But look how cute they are together!”

You giggled softly, squeezing Choso’s hand as he rolled his eyes, his face slightly red from the attention. He wasn’t much for the spotlight when it came to your relationship, but it was hard to avoid it when everyone seemed so fascinated by the contrast between you two.

As you browsed through the racks, you couldn’t help but pull out a pastel pink sweater with tiny hearts embroidered on it. “This is so cute!” you exclaimed, holding it up for Choso to see.

He gave it a look, raising an eyebrow. “It’s… definitely you, sweetie.” he said with a smirk, though his tone was affectionate.

“Of course it is! What do you think, puddin’ pop? Would you wear it if I bought a matching one for us?”

Choso let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Yeah, no. I’ll stick with my black, sweetie. Thank you though."

You pouted playfully, nudging him. “Come on, just once? For me?”

Choso softened, and you could see the internal battle playing out on his face. You knew he’d do anything to make you happy, even if it meant stepping way out of his comfort zone. “Alright, fine sweetie.” he relented, sighing dramatically. “But only because you’re cute.”

Your eyes lit up, and you threw your arms around him in a quick hug. “You’re the best!”

The girl at the counter couldn’t stop staring as you and Choso approached to pay. She looked completely bewildered, like she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. “I—I love your outfits….” she stammered, scanning the pastel sweater. “You two are really… um, adorable.”

Choso, clearly flustered, mumbled a quiet “Thanks!” while you beamed and responded. “Aren’t we? He’s my sweet puddin’ pop, after all.”

The cashier blinked in surprise, probably not expecting the goth guy who looked like he belonged in a metal band to be called something so cute. But as she handed you the bag, you caught the faint smile tugging at the corner of her lips. It was as if she’d just witnessed a secret that made perfect sense in some strange way.

After leaving the boutique, Choso let out a deep breath, clearly relieved to be out of the spotlight. “I can’t believe you convinced me to get a pink sweater.”

You giggled, taking his arm and leaning your head against it. “You’re gonna look so cute, though! I’ll take a picture of us together and keep it forever.”

Choso groaned, but there was a smile on his face as he shook his head. “Only for you. I swear, you’ve turned me into a complete softie, sweetie.”

You looked up at him, eyes sparkling. “But you’ve always been a softie. You’re just finally admitting it.”

He gave a soft, resigned laugh. “Yeah, yeah… whatever you say.”

The two of you continued your walk, eventually ending up at your favorite park. As you found a bench to sit on, the sun began to set, casting a golden glow across the trees and flowers. It was quiet and peaceful, and you felt Choso’s arm wrap around your shoulders again, pulling you close.

For a moment, everything was perfect. You didn’t care about the stares or the whispers or the way people seemed to be so fascinated by the two of you. All that mattered was how you felt when you were with him—like the world was a little brighter, a little softer.

You glanced up at him, resting your chin on his shoulder. “You know, no matter how many people are surprised by us, I still think we’re perfect together.”

Choso smiled down at you, his eyes filled with a warmth that only you got to see. “I know. I wouldn’t trade this for anything, sweetie.”

And as the sun dipped below the horizon, the two of you sat there in comfortable silence, content in your own little world where opposites didn’t just attract—they completed each other.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

YOU HAD FREE TIME, AND HE DID TOO. So, it was just right for him to come by and cuddle with you. It was a quiet evening when Kamo Choso walked into your apartment, his usual black boots clunking against the hardwood floor as he made his way to where you were curled up on the couch. You looked up from your book and smiled when you saw him, your pastel-colored socks contrasting with the dark, brooding aura he carried everywhere.

"Hey, puddin' pop." you greeted sweetly, holding your arms out for him.

Choso's lips twitched into a soft smile as he walked over to you, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. He settled beside you, his arm casually draping around your shoulders as you snuggled into his side. For a moment, the two of you just sat there in comfortable silence, but you could tell there was something on his mind.

He cleared his throat a little awkwardly, running his hand through his messy hair. “Hey… so, I, uh… I wrote a new song, sweetie.” he started, his deep voice a little unsure.

You sat up, instantly interested. “Really? That’s amazing! What’s it about?”

His eyes darted away for a second, the usual confidence he exuded seeming to falter as his cheeks tinted pink. “Well… it’s about you.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, your heart doing a little flip at his words. “Me? You wrote a song about me?”

He nodded, clearly trying to play it cool, but you could see the faint blush creeping up his neck. “Yeah, I mean… I’ve been working on it for a while. It’s for the band. I wasn’t sure if you’d be into it, though, since, you know, you’re not really big on metal.”

Your heart practically melted at his bashful tone. Choso, the brooding goth guy who looked like he could crush someone with a glance, had written a song about you? It was like every romantic dream you never knew you had was suddenly real.

“Oh my gosh, puddin’ pop!” you squealed, your hands grabbing his arm in excitement. “I want to hear it! I don’t care if it’s metal, I’ll love it just because it’s from you!”

He chuckled, a little nervous but clearly pleased with your enthusiasm. “Are you sure? It’s kinda heavy, sweetie…”

You practically jumped up from the couch, tugging him along with you. “I’m sure! Come on, I need to hear this!”

Choso laughed as you dragged him to his guitar, which he had brought over for practice. He picked it up, settling it on his lap as you sat back down, eagerly waiting for him to start. The way your eyes sparkled made his heart swell with affection. He strummed a few notes, tuning the strings before looking at you with a small smile.

“Alright, sweetie….” he said softly, his voice gentle in contrast to the deep rumble of the guitar. “Just… keep an open mind, okay?”

You nodded eagerly, clasping your hands together as if you were about to witness the performance of a lifetime. Your eyes were shining brighter than ever before. Your face was focused on him, awestruck already. It’s as if you had decided that it was already the best song in the world (which to you, it was.)

Choso took a deep breath before he started playing, the guitar riff heavy and intense, but there was a surprising tenderness woven into the melody. It was raw, powerful, but there was an undercurrent of emotion that made your chest tighten.

He began to sing, his voice low and gravelly, but the lyrics were… beautiful. They spoke of love, of safety, of someone who brought light into his dark world. Each word made your heart race faster as you realized just how deeply his love for you had inspired every note, every line.

Even though you weren’t as big into metal music as he was, you could feel the emotion behind each chord. It was him, pouring his heart into the music in a way only he could. You watched him, completely enraptured, as he sang about how you made him feel—how you were his bright spot, his calm amidst the storm.

When he finished, there was a brief silence, the air between you both charged with emotion. He glanced up at you, a little hesitant, waiting for your reaction. “So… what do you think, sweetie?” he asked quietly, his tough exterior cracking just a little as his vulnerability showed.

You didn’t even know how to put your feelings into words, so you did the only thing you could think of. You launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck in a tight hug. “Oh my sweet sweet puddin’ pop! That was beautiful! Oh my God, I can’t believe you wrote that for me! I love it, I love you!”

Choso’s arms wrapped around you instinctively, his deep chuckle vibrating through his chest as he held you close. “You really liked it? Even though it’s, you know… metal?”

You pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes, your smile wide and full of love. “It doesn’t matter what genre it is! You put your heart into it, and I could feel it. It was perfect.”

Choso’s smile softened, and he leaned in to press a kiss to your lips, his hand cradling the back of your head. “I’m glad. I just… wanted you to know how much you mean to me. You’re everything, you know?”

You felt your heart swell, your love for him overflowing. “You’re everything to me too, puddin’ pop. I can’t believe you wrote me a song,” you gushed, still in awe of how deeply his love for you translated into everything he did.

Choso blushed again, clearly not used to being fawned over like this. “Well… you inspire me, sweetie.” he mumbled, his voice gruff but full of affection. “Always.”

You grinned, resting your head against his shoulder as he held you close. “I’ll always be your biggest fan, no matter what. Even if I’m not the biggest metalhead.”

He chuckled, pressing another kiss to your hair. “That’s all I need.”

You stayed wrapped in Choso's arms for a while, the warmth of the moment lingering between the two of you. His heart was still pounding against your cheek, and it was clear that even for someone as stoic as him, sharing the song with you had meant the world.

"I can't believe you were nervous about showing me that, hm?" you whispered, tracing little circles on his chest. "It was so beautiful. The way you turned your love into music... you’re amazing, puddin’ pop."

Choso let out a soft, almost bashful chuckle. “Yeah, well… it’s easier to play it in front of a crowd than just for you. I wanted it to be perfect, sweetie.”

Your heart melted at his honesty, and you squeezed him a little tighter. "It was perfect. And it just makes me love you more."

Choso smiled softly, the tough-guy act completely dropped as he tilted your chin up to meet his gaze. “Good.” he said quietly. “Because I’ll probably write a dozen more songs about you.”

You laughed, your cheeks flushed with warmth. "Promise?" you teased, raising an eyebrow playfully.

“Promise, sweetie.” he murmured, leaning down to kiss you again, slow and tender.

There was something about Choso’s kisses that always made you feel like the world had stopped for just a second—like the two of you were the only ones who existed. And in moments like this, it didn’t matter if you didn’t share his love for metal music or if your pastel wardrobe clashed with his dark, edgy style.

When the kiss ended, you both settled back on the couch, with Choso resting his guitar against the wall. You nestled into his side, your fingers laced together. The silence between you was comfortable, but you could tell there was still something on his mind.

“I’m thinking about playing it at our next gig, sweetie.” he finally said, glancing down at you. “I’d want you there… if you’re up for it.”

Your eyes widened with excitement. “You want me there when you play it? Of course, I’d love to be there!”

Choso looked relieved by your enthusiasm, though there was still a hint of nervousness in his eyes. “It’ll be loud, though. Probably going to be louder than our last gig since it’s with other metal bands.”

You grinned, nudging him gently. “I’ll bring earplugs, don’t worry. But I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I want to be there when you play our song, you know?”

Choso’s gaze softened, and he squeezed your hand. “You don’t know how much that means to me, sweetie. It’ll be the first time I’ve played a song that personal.”

You smiled, leaning your head against his shoulder. "Well, now it’s personal to me too. I’ll be there, cheering you on in my pastel outfit, and I’ll make sure everyone knows I’m the one you’re singing about."

He chuckled, imagining the sight of you in the crowd, all sweetness and sunshine, while his band rocked out on stage. “You’ll definitely stand out, sweetie.” he said with a teasing smirk.

“Good! I want everyone to know I’m your biggest fan, puddin’ pop!” you replied with a grin.

Choso kissed the top of your head, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on the back of your hand. “You always have been.”

The rest of the night was spent in quiet contentment. You stayed wrapped up in each other, talking about his band, the upcoming concert, and the thought of hearing your song live for the first time. Choso shared little stories from his rehearsals, his voice full of excitement whenever he mentioned the moment he’d finally reveal the song to the audience—and to you.

“I’m already planning my outfit!” you joked, imagining what you’d wear to one of his gigs. “Something cute but not too out of place.”

Choso laughed, pulling you closer. “Wear whatever you want. I’ll be proud to have you there, no matter what.”

You looked up at him, your eyes full of love. “I’ll be there in the front row, cheering for you. And afterward, we’ll celebrate with a giant lollipop, since, you know, you’re my puddin’ pop.”

Choso groaned, his cheeks turning a faint shade of red, but the smile on his face didn’t fade. “You’re never gonna let that nickname go, are you?”

You giggled, shaking your head. “Never. It’s part of the deal.”

He rolled his eyes, but the fondness in his voice was undeniable. “I guess I can live with it… as long as you keep being my inspiration.”

And with that, the two of you fell into a peaceful silence again, your hearts full of love. As the night continued, you couldn’t help but think about how lucky you were. Choso might’ve been tough on the outside, but underneath all of that was the sweetest, most caring person you’d ever met. And now, knowing he’d written a song about you, you felt even closer to him than ever before.

No matter how different you seemed on the outside, Choso’s love for you translated into everything he did—from his quiet moments with you to the powerful music he created. It was all a reflection of the way he saw you, and it made you fall even deeper in love with your sweet, tough, and tender-hearted puddin’ pop.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

IT’S BEEN A WHILE FOR BOTH OF YOU SINCE ITS FINAL WEEK. Your metalhead boyfriend Choso finally arrives at your dorm, his presence immediately filling the room with warmth. He steps in close, his strong hands wrapping around your waist, pulling you gently but firmly against him. His breath is warm on your skin as he leans down, his lips softly grazing the sensitive area around your ear.

"Want to do it, sweetie?" he murmurs, his voice husky, a teasing grin tugging at the corners of his lips because he knows your answer already. “I missed you….”

“I missed you too, puddin’ pop.” You whispered back, a sly smile on your lips. Your eyes lustfully gazing back at him. “So so so much….”

“Just how much, sweetie?”

“A lot.” You whispered as your fingers trailed onto your thighs and a little bit lower. Choso was already sure what he’d find down there. He knows you too well. His little sweetie. “Help me, puddin’ pop. I need you.”

As soon as you give him the slightest confirmation, he effortlessly scoops you up, cradling you in his arms like you weigh nothing. His lips never leave your skin as he walks you towards the bedroom, each kiss a little more insistent, a little more needy. Between the kisses, he leans in close to your ear, whispering the dirtiest, most wicked things, his words making your skin tingle.

As Choso carries you, his lips trail down your neck, leaving a path of heat with every kiss. His grip tightens slightly around your waist, the tension building with each step toward the bedroom. The way he whispers into your ear, voice low and raspy, sends shivers through your entire body. His words are teasing, laced with promises that make your mind race, each one more wicked than the last.

He lays you down gently on the bed, his body hovering over yours, eyes dark with desire as he drinks in the sight of you. His hands roam your body, slow and deliberate, as if savoring every moment, every inch of your skin. His kisses grow deeper, his whispers more urgent, as his desire for you becomes undeniable.

"You're mine tonight, sweetie." he breathes, his voice thick with lust.

You smiled. “I always was, puddin’ pop.”

Choso’s lips crash against yours, the intensity building as his hands explore your body with purpose, claiming every inch of you. His touch is firm yet careful, as though he’s memorizing the way you react to each kiss, each graze of his fingertips. His words, laced with that rough edge, never stop.

“I’ve been thinking about this all day, sweetie.” he mutters between kisses, his breath hot against your skin as he trails his lips back down to your neck. “You drive me crazy, you know that?”

He pins your wrists gently above your head, holding you in place, his eyes locking onto yours with a burning intensity. He leans down again, his lips brushing your ear as he growls softly, “I want to hear you say my name… over and over.”

His words send a rush of heat through your body as he lowers himself, every movement slow, teasing, deliberate, until the anticipation becomes almost unbearable. The room feels electric, the air between you charged with desire, as he continues to whisper the dirtiest, most enticing things.

Choso’s hands slide down your arms, his grip firm yet tender as he keeps you pinned beneath him. His breath is hot against your skin, his lips finding yours in a hungry kiss before trailing back to your neck, down to your collarbone, teasing with every move. The way he takes his time with you, savoring each reaction, has you breathless.

"You're so perfect for me, sweetie." he whispers, his voice thick with lust and affection. "I love watching you like this."

His hands move lower, fingers tracing your sides, sending shivers down your spine as he leans in closer, his body pressing against yours. He kisses you deeply again, the kind of kiss that makes your head spin, before pulling back just enough to meet your eyes.

“I’m not stopping until you’re completely mine tonight, sweetie.” he growls softly, his words dripping with intensity. The way he says it sends a rush of anticipation through your entire body, making you ache for his touch even more.

Without breaking eye contact, he lowers himself further, his kisses moving lower, trailing heat in their wake. Every touch, every word leaves you feeling completely consumed by him, the world around you fading away until it's just you and him, tangled together in this moment that feels both endless and electrifying.

Choso’s kisses become more intense, his pace deliberate yet teasing, as if he’s relishing the control he has over every inch of your body. His hands trace slow, burning paths along your skin, each touch igniting a fire inside you. He knows exactly how to make you melt beneath him, every movement calculated yet filled with raw passion.

He leans back up, his eyes locking onto yours, dark with desire. "I love how you react to me, sweetie." he murmurs, voice dripping with a mix of dominance and affection. "The way your body responds... it drives me wild."

His fingers trail lightly across your chest before grabbing hold of your waist, pulling you even closer, his breath ragged with anticipation. His lips return to your ear, teeth gently grazing the sensitive skin as he whispers, "You're going to scream my name tonight."

The way he says it sends shockwaves through your body, the desire in his voice leaving you aching for more. His hands grip you tighter as he kisses you deeply, his passion consuming you entirely. Every whispered promise, every soft growl, every lingering touch leaves you yearning for more, completely lost in the moment, knowing he’s not letting up until you’re both completely spent.

"You’re mine, just mine." he growls, his voice low and possessive, making it clear that he’s going to fulfill every wicked promise he’s made tonight.

Choso’s lips crash against yours once more, each kiss more urgent and consuming, as if he’s claiming you entirely. His hands grip your hips firmly, guiding your body beneath his, the heat between you growing unbearable. The intensity in his eyes makes your breath catch, his gaze full of need, raw desire, and something deeper — a craving that goes beyond the physical.

He presses his body closer, his breath hot against your skin as he continues to whisper the dirtiest, most intimate words in your ear, his voice sending shivers down your spine. “You don’t know how much I need you right now, god…..” he murmurs, his words laced with desperation and control.

His touch becomes rougher, more insistent, as he moves in rhythm with the tension building between you. Every kiss, every graze of his fingertips, pulls you deeper into the moment, making you forget everything else. It’s just you and him, the weight of his body pressing down on you, the way his voice rasps your name in between breaths, each sound sending a jolt of pleasure through you.

"Say my name, sweetie." he growls, his voice husky, lips hovering near your ear. "I want to hear it. I want to hear how much you need me."

“Cho, cho—” You choked in pleasure as he continued to find him satiating you with pleasure over and over. “Baby, p–puddin’ pop. Please. Oh—”

You feel yourself slipping, losing control as his words become more possessive, each touch pushing you closer to the edge. The room feels smaller, the air heavy with heat and desire as Choso claims you again and again, each time more intense than the last.

And just as you think you can’t take any more, he leans down, his lips brushing your skin as he whispers, “You’re mine. Only mine. Sweetie, you know that right?” His words linger in the air, echoing through the haze of pleasure that surrounds you both, sealing the night with a promise only the two of you can understand.

“I do, I do.” You moaned out in a frenzy. “Baby, my puddin’ pop, I do. O–only, uh…only yours!”

Choso’s pace quickens, his movements becoming more urgent, more desperate, as if he’s on the verge of losing control himself. His grip tightens around your waist, fingers digging into your skin as he pulls you closer, the weight of his body grounding you while pushing you to the edge of sensation. His lips are everywhere—your neck, your collarbone, your lips—claiming you with every kiss, every touch.

Your breaths come in ragged gasps as the tension builds between you, the heat reaching an unbearable peak. He groans softly, his voice thick with need as he whispers, "I’m right there with you... just let go for me." His words are a command and a plea all at once, and the sound of his voice is enough to push you to the brink.

With a final, shuddering thrust, the world around you seems to fall away, the pressure inside you finally releasing in a wave of pure ecstasy. Choso’s name tumbles from your lips, over and over, exactly the way he wanted. His own breath hitches as he follows you into that climax, a deep, guttural groan escaping his throat as his body tenses against yours, the pleasure overwhelming him too.

He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his breath warm and ragged against your skin as he rides out the last waves of pleasure, holding you tightly as if he never wants to let go. His fingers gently stroke your skin now, soft and soothing in contrast to the intense passion you just shared.

For a moment, everything is quiet, just the sound of your mingled breathing filling the room, the intensity of the moment settling into a soft, shared intimacy. Choso presses a tender kiss to your forehead, his voice a low whisper as he says, “You’re everything I need, sweetie.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. epilogue

As the intensity fades and the world starts to come back into focus, Kamo Choso gently eases himself beside you, his arms never leaving your body. His expression softens, all the hunger and fire replaced with tenderness as he looks at you, his thumb brushing over your flushed cheek.

"You did so good, sweetie." he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. His touch is slow, deliberate, as he strokes your hair, helping you come down from the high. He wraps the blanket around both of you, pulling you into his chest, his body warm and comforting against yours.

He reaches for a water bottle on your bedside table, offering it to you with a small smile. "Drink up, hm?" he says gently, knowing how much you need it. After you take a sip, he tenderly kisses your temple, his fingers tracing soothing circles along your back.

The atmosphere shifts into something soft and intimate, his hands carefully massaging your sore muscles, making sure you feel cared for. His voice is low, murmuring sweet reassurances, "I've got you… I’ll take care of you."

Once he's satisfied that you're comfortable, Choso shifts so you're nestled in his arms, your head resting on his chest. He stays close, his fingers gently stroking through your hair, his heartbeat steady beneath your ear. There's a certain peace in the quiet moments after everything, and you feel completely safe with him, wrapped up in his warmth.

"You know I’m not going anywhere tonight, right?" he says softly, his voice laced with affection. He leans down to kiss the top of your head, his arms tightening around you protectively. "I’ll be here, all night, right next to you."

The two of you lie there, tangled in each other, as the night settles around you. The outside world doesn’t matter anymore—just the warmth of his body, the steady rhythm of his breathing, and the way he holds you as if you’re the most precious thing in the world.

As sleep starts to pull you in, Choso whispers, “I love you, sweetie.” his voice barely audible but filled with sincerity. And in that moment, everything feels perfect, knowing he’ll be right there when you wake up. Your beloved metalhead boyfriend.

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kooberist · 7 months ago

Text

. . . . ⋆.˚ when i see you cry it makes me smile~ ♪ 𔓘

nerd!jungkook x crush!reader

non con, sadistic jk, crying, mentally ill jk? jimin being the devil on jks shoulder

His lips purred into a smile so wide that they parted and his eyes squinted, teeth showing. His smile was almost angelic, as if he held a secret that could brighten the darkest of days.

Your face did the opposite. Lips quivering as tears overflowed your waterline and made your eyelashes all soggy and your eyebrows all furrowed.

This was all going on at the same time. Jungkook was smiling because you were crying, something he found inexplicably joyful.

Why? Why did he find joy in your tears?

Jungkook's heart beated for you, and his lungs expanded just for you. He felt euphoric when he saw you, but all of it came to a halt like a cog was missing in a clock.

"Would you like to be friends?" Jungkook studied; he knew he wanted to be more, but this was a baby step in the right direction. A sour expression crept on your face as you heard his question. "no thanks." Your words cut through his heart like he was in a slasher movie, leaving him feeling rejected and hurt, but one more thing consumed him: hate.

Jungkook sat on his best friends' beds as he contemplated how to deal with this new emotion. "You want to fuck her, right?" Jimin asked with a smile. Jungkook shyly nodded, and that's when Jimin said what Jungkook secretly had in the back of his brain. "Then rape her." He stated that it was a simple task. With a little help from his friend, he found a light in the tunnel at the end, and that was revenge. He had no choice.

Browsing through the campus library, trying to scurry as the clock almost reached the closing hour and the dim place slowly got empty, nobody left except you and the young pink-haired person at the desk down on the bottom floor. Fastly looking through the big books in the empty, dark island, a boy in a big black hoodie tapped your shoulder.

"Would you like help?" His voice was soft and calm. You shear your head no and go back to searching and he felt like a genius as his prediction to your reaction was spot on

He tapped your clothed shoulder again, and when you turned around, his hand that was once on your shoulder flew to your neck in a tight grip.

He felt ecstatic as you gasped for air and your face shifted to fear and panic.

"Im sorry." He lifted you off your feet with ease while his free hand undid his belt in a swift motion along with your skirt, and your mind raced, desperately searching for a way to escape his grasp. The room seemed to spin as you struggled to break free, your heart pounding in your chest.

Pants dropping along with his boxers. He groans as he strokes his throbbing cock about twice before sticking it in your wet heat with a soft and quiet moan..

"Ah, fuck," he groans. Was he really losing his virginity to rape right now? He told himself it was your fault in low groans as he thrust in and out. Tears are now streaming down your face, and moans of pain are escaping your mouth loudly. His fat cock thrusting in and out as his legs shook and his forehead met his, and sweat beamed down his forehead. Pre-cum and slick juices mixed together, creating a slippery sensation. The room filled with a mix of desperation and pleasure as he continued to move with increasing intensity.

"help" You cried out in a raspy voice. The intensity of the situation weighed heavily on your mind as you desperately pleaded for help, hoping someone would hear your cries. Each passing moment felt like an eternity as you struggled to comprehend how this could be happening to you.

"Sorry," he said in repeated whispers, but when you started to ugly cry, his guilt flew right down to his dick, making him on the brink of orgasm. His legs are shaking due to the sound of your moan-ish cries.

The knot breaks the rope in your stomach as you cum all over his cock in an extremely loud cry. The sweet music in Jungkook's ears echos through the big library, and you grow limp in his hand. His hips speed up at an inhumane pace, and his cum fills up your womb as his eyes shutter and his hand lets go of your neck, causing your energy-less body to fall to the rough carpeted floor of the isle full of books.

His lips purred into a smile so wide that they parted and his eyes squinted, teeth showing. His smile was almost angelic, as if he held a secret that could brighten the darkest of days.

Your face did the opposite. Lips quivering as tears overflowed your waterline and made your eyelashes all soggy and your eyebrows all furrowed. Sitting in the chair of an office and trauma comes back as you retell the traumatic memory. Jungkook innocently smiles as he knows you are just crying at the memory of what he did while he peeks through the glass window of the dim office.

Maybe you will think twice about being an asshole next time.

©kooberist 2024

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ninibeingdelulu · 5 months ago

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A kid’s dream ✧

Plot: You find 5 years old Bachira playing alone, so you decide to join him.

A/N: Can I say im proud of this post ? Cause I am. Oh and if you didn’t understand you’re a kid too, like the same age as him.

The late afternoon light cast a warm, honeyed glow across the empty sandbox, creating wispy shadows that danced and flickered playfully with the faintest breeze.

A chubby-cheeked little boy with a tousled mop of messy black curls bounded around the sun-dappled area, kicking a battered soccer ball in exaggerated, uncoordinated motions.

Despite his cherubic features and bright sapphire eyes sparkling with pure glee, something melancholic emanated from the small figure.

A cloud of perpetual isolation, as if the tiny boy orbited on a plane just adjacent to all his peers - forever the outsider peering in.

"Haha! Did you see that shot?!"

Meguru shouted to no one in particular, tiny chest heaving from exertion as he beamed proudly at the ball now rolling to a stop several feet away.

Before he could race after it again, a soft voice piped up from behind causing the young boy to pivot with those big doe eyes blown wide.

"Whatcha doin'?"

You toddled across the sandy pit, downy hair ruffled by the balmly zephyrs tickling your round cheeks.

Despite the cherubic picture of innocence you painted, Meguru immediately bristled - shoulders hunching as if bracing for the inevitable round of mockery that always accompanied any overtures at friendly interaction.

He lifted a chubby arm to vigorously rub at his button nose, regarding you with open suspicion laced through those crystal azure pools.

"Um...playin' soccer?"

A puzzled nose-wrinkle creased your brow at Meguru's inexplicable wariness to so simple an inquiry.

"All by yourself?"

The little boy merely nodded, muddy cleats scuffing the sand as he shuffled in place - clearly prepared for the teasing jabs that typically followed such observations from other kids.

Realizing he wasn't going to supply any additional details unprompted, you simply traipsed nearer, wide-eyed with youthful curiosity.

"But that seems lonely..." You cocked your head to one side, round features scrunched in consternation.

"Do you wanna play together? I'm not very good yet, but I can try!"

Meguru froze, mouth parting with unspoken surprise at your words - so averse to the ugly responses long imprinted on his young psyche.

Was this some cruel joke? A setup to deliver an even more brutal punchline mocking his desires for friendship?

Frantically his gaze searched yours for any trace of trickery or meanness, finding only the most openly earnest and disarmingly sweet expression mirrored back at him.

You simply waited, clumsily fidgeting with the hem of your shirt as minutes ticked by suspended in breathless hope.

That strange, untapped warmth began radiating through Meguru's tiny chest as the reality cemented in his mind. Not only did you wish to play with him...but there was no scorn or malice in your proposition whatsoever!

Within seconds, his whole demeanor transformed in a blinding shift as happiness and disbelieving joy erased all lingering uncertainty.

Scrambling closer to you, the little boy's sun-kissed features split in a megawatt grin of purest elation so overflowing, it seemed to eclipse his entire miniature frame.

Those big sapphire eyes sparkled like crystalline dewdrops, all radiant hope and heart-bursting affection.

Eagerly Meguru reached for your hand, bouncing on the balls of his tiny feet with infectious enthusiasm.

"Yeah!! Yeah, I wanna play together!!"

He squeezed your fingers tight, as if trying to fuse your joined souls into an adamant tether even at this tender age.

Giggling at his exuberance, you gave a reciprocating squeeze as the two of you tumbled onto the sand in a whirl of kicking legs and peals of carefree, tinkling laughter.

Any apprehension evaporated in the golden warmth of this newly-forged comradeship encircling you both in its glow.

For Meguru, it was as if the universe itself had rewarded his earnest desires with the ultimate miracle - a friend, one who could see the boundless depths of his spirit beyond cold, callous judgements.

In those fleeting moments, the young striker felt buoyantly weightless and complete, untethered by solitude for the first time in his short life so far.

His whole world shifted onto an exciting new axis the instant you graced it with simple, radiant innocence and acceptance. In that moment, nothing else in existence could touch him but the breathtaking potential for adventure and belonging stretching into the horizon...

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livlaughloveluke · 1 year ago

Text

𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐲- 𝐞.𝐥

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: ethan’s mysterious sickness leads to an unexpected confession

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: sickness, pills (advil)

𝐚/𝐧: was kinda rushed and also tumblr was acting up when i was trying to write this, but i hope you enjoy!

ethan woke up to a sudden feeling of nausea, and a headache that pounded relentlessly. you and him were supposed to go study in the library later that afternoon, but there’s no way he would get anything done in this condition.

he managed to lift himself out of bed, feeling extremely weak. he trudged to the bathroom, every step seeming to add exhaustion to his already tired self.

he arrived, and lazily opened a cabinet to grab the thermometer and some advil. he reached to the back where the medicine usually was, only to find nothing. he looked around, searching for something that would bring relief, however nothing was there.

in the meantime, he grabbed the thermometer and stuck it under his tounge. he waited patiently, as the numbers kept going up.

103 degrees fahrenheit. a decent fever, and if he didn’t take medicine soon, it might go up. he exited the bathroom, hoping to find chad.

ethan was too sick to go out, so chad would have to pick up some advil for him.

unfortunately, chad was nowhere to be found. ethan pulled his phone off the charger to call him. he clicked on chads contact, and waited as the phone ringed.

chad picked up shortly. ethan was more of a texter, so he knew something must have been wrong. before chad could mutter a word, ethan began talking.

“hey man, have you seen the advil?” ethan grumbled, sounding sickly and sleepy.

“i just finished off last week. midterms had me stressed, man. it should be on the grocery list. are you sick?” chad responded. ethan looked, and it was in-fact on the shopping list, next to the goldfish.

“yeah i feel like shit and have a fever. where are you?” ethan asked, hoping chad was near, and could run by the pharmacy and pick some up.

“dude, i told you this last week. me and mindy drove up north to visit some family this weekend. im sure y/n would gladly pick some up for you, though.” chad replied, and ethan could sense his smile through the screen. ethan thanked chad, before hanging up.

you and ethan were good friends, although he wished you were more. he was talking to chad one night, when he accidentally let it slip that he had a huge crush on you.

chad, being the blabbermouth he is, immediately told tara. when tara found out about ethans crush, she almost overflowed with joy. she knew the feelings were reciprocated, as you talked about him all the time. ever since that night, tara and chad had been trying to get you together.

however, every time tara mentioned you asking ethan out, you shut her down. you told her that he probably didn’t feel same, and that you valued your friendship with him to much to ruin it. tara fought the urge to tell you about what chad had said, but she promised she wouldn’t say anything, so she kept her mouth shut.

ethan felt bad, but he knew he had to text you. you were curled up on the couch, watching netflix, when a notification popped up on your phone.

ethan 🪼

hey! im think im sick,

so im going to have to cancel

on our study sesh :(

you read his message, and your heart filled with worry.

you

im sorry you don’t feel good,

eth.

do you need anything?

ethan 🪼

actually if you don’t mind,

could you pick me up

sone advil? we ran out and

i was supposed to go the

grocery store today.

you

of course

send me your grocery list and I’ll pick everything up 4 you

ethan 🪼

you really don’t have

to do that y/n

you

seriously, it’s nothing. plus, i was at your dorm yesterday and there was literally no food

ethan 🪼

thank you so much

*one image attached*

you rush and throw on some baggy grey sweatpants, pairing it with a navy blue sweatshirt that drapes over one shoulder. you throw your uggs on, and rush out the door. you try your best to be as quick as possible, knowing of ethan’s poor condition.

the grocery list was filled with mainly junk food, so you decide to buy some fruits for the roommates. you also buy ingredients for your homemade chicken noodle soup, hoping it will help with his health.

you pay and head to his dorm, while you stress over his condition the whole ride. you park your car in the parking garage, and carry the several bags of groceries up to his floor. ethan had given you a spare key a couple weeks ago, so you fumbled with your keychain until you found it and unlocked the door.

the door flung open, and you found ethan on the couch, looking like a zombie. a show played quietly on the tv in the background. you rush to the chaotic kitchen, and set the items down on the counter. you fish around in the bags, looking for the meds. you found the bottle of pills, and set them down beside the groceries. you open the cabinet and find a large water bottle, and fill it up to the brim

you take the water and the advil over to him, placing it on the coffee table. he’s half asleep, so you shake him a little, so he is aware of your presence.

“hey. take your medicine, and make sure to drink some water. i’ll clean up around here.” you whisper to him quietly.

he groans in response and swallows the pills, before laying back down on the couch. you head back to the kitchen, and start putting away groceries and cleaning up his previous messes. you wipe every surface down, until everything is completely spotless.

then, you move onto his room. you rip the sheets off his bed so you could wash them, and grab the spare ones from his closet. you neatly make his bed, and fluff up the pillows. besides his bed, almost everything else was put away and it looked nice. you disinfected his table and all of the door knobs, then went back to the living room.

you shook him a little again, waking him up, and you led him to his bedroom. he immediately plopped down on his bed, chasing sleep. you grabbed his phone and the water bottle from the other room, and placed them on his nightstand for when he woke up.

you then went to clean up the living room, which surprisingly wasn’t that messy, besides a few pillows and blankets scattered across the floor.

it was around one pm, so you started making lunch, and it would probably be dinner, too.

you poured the chicken stock into a pot, and then placed it on the stove, heating it up.

you swiftly dice some vegetables, and throw them into the pot, along with some shredded chicken. you seasoned it to perfection, and then added the uncooked pasta once it was boiling.

while it was cooking, you cleaned up the mess you had just made, and did the dishes. it was weird how easily and efficiently you tightened up his apartment. normally you would dread doing these chores, but since it was for ethan, you didn’t mind.

you turned down the heat once the noodles were fully cooked, and tasted your delicious creation. just on time, ethan woke up from his nap and entered the kitchen. he looked a lot better now, not nearly as delirious.

“seriously y/n, you didn’t have to do any of this.“ he says, yawning a little.

“like i said, it was nothing. are you feeling any better?” you respond back, now ladling the soup into a bowl for him.

“a little. thank you, really.” ethan said. you handed him his lunch, while reassuring him that it was no big deal.

you made your own portion, making sure to turn off the stove once you were done. you took your bowl and sat next to him at the table.

“wait, i might get you sick.” ethan warns.

“we’ve spent every day for the past week together. if it’s contagious, i probably would have gotten it by now. also, i don’t mind getting sick if it means i can spend this time with you.” you respond, looking at his gorgeous coffee brown eyes. you needed to tell him how you felt.

“ethan, i care about you so, so much. way more than a normal friend should.” you say to him, but he just tilts his head in confusion.

“what im trying to say is that i really like you. i want to be more than friends. i know you haven’t dated anyone before, and i’m perfectly okay with taking it slow. if you don’t feel the same way, please just tell me now.” you confess to him. now it was ethans turn to spill his guts.

“i’ve liked you since the day we met in econ, y/n. i want to be with you, no matter what happens. would you wanna go out sometime, officially?”

“more than anything.” you say, a smile now plastered on your face.

ethan drags you back to his bedroom so he can take another nap, and you decide to read. you sit crisscross on his bed, back leaning on the bed frame. he cuddled up to you, laying his head in your lap. a couple minutes later, he was fast asleep. you pull out your phone to snap a photo, them text tara.

you

turns out you were right

#ethan landry #jack champion #ethan landry angst #ethan landry smut #ethan landry x reader #jack champion x reader #jack champion x y/n #fanfic #jack champion x actress! reader #liv’s writing !

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the-offside-rule · 6 months ago

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Declan Rice (Arsenal) - Triumph

Requested: yes (THIS WAS REQUESTED IN LIKE SEPTEMBER IM SO SORRY IM ONLY GETTING AROUND TO IT NOW)

Prompt: just cute girl-dad Declan

Warnings: none tbh

The sun was setting over the Emirates Stadium as the final whistle blew, sealing Arsenal's victory and clinching the Premier League title. Declan Rice, clad in the red and white of his beloved club, couldn't contain his joy. He hugged his teammates, exchanged high-fives, and then spotted his wife, Y/n, and their adorable daughter, Lily, waiting for him on the pitch. Lily made her way quickly to her father who in turn was running towards her with open arms. "Daddy!" She squealed as he neared her. "Oh my darling, how are you? Did you see that? We won!" Declan exclaimed as he scooped up his daughter, who was wearing a tiny Arsenal jersey with her name printed on the back.

Y/n smiled, her eyes sparkling with pride. "We saw, didn't we, sweetheart?" Declan looked up and pressed a gentle kiss onto his wife's lips. "Ah, I love you." Declan sighed as Y/n reached around his neck. "I love you too. I'm so proud of you." Lily tugged at her dad's jersey and pointed towards the shiny trophy the players had been going around with. "Do you want to go see it, darling?" Declan asked. Lily nodded enthusiastically as the trio made their way towards the other players.

As they approached, Kai and Martin had turned and hugged Y/n, talking with her briefly as Declan held onto Lily. All the while, Lily couldn't take her eyes off the trophy gleaming. It only took a minute or so for Declan to notice her and he chuckled. "We'll get a photo now, okay?" Lily gasped. "Yes!" She exclaimed, making the other players laugh alongside Y/n. "Sorry lads, I'll have to borrow her for a quick photo and you can have her back." Declan smiled as he turned towards the photographer.

Lily giggled and clapped her hands, her cheeks flushed with excitement. She reached out towards the gleaming Premier League trophy, her tiny fingers almost grazing its surface. "Not yet, Lily. Let's take some photos first." Y/n said, pulling out her phone to take a photo of Declan and Lily first before quickly running back to get a photo. Declan grinned and posed with his family, the trophy gleaming in the background. Lily squirmed in his arms, eager to explore the pitch. "Okay, okay, darling. Let's see what you've got." Declan chuckled, lowering Lily to the ground.

Lily toddled off towards a group of other players' children, her Arsenal ball bouncing happily beside her. Declan and Y/n followed closely behind, enjoying the celebratory atmosphere. "Y/n!" She turned to see Kai's girlfriend Sophia walking towards her with a smile upon her face. "Sophia! Did you grab a photo with the trophy yet?" As they mingled with other families, sharing hugs and congratulations, the crowd suddenly erupted into cheers. Declan and Y/n exchanged puzzled looks, then turned to see what had caused the commotion.

Their hearts swelled with pride as they watched Lily, determined and focused, waddle towards an empty goal with her miniature football. "She's going for it!" Declan grinned from ear to ear, his chest swelling with love for his fearless daughter. "Go on, Lily! Shoot!" With a determined kick, Lily sent the ball rolling into the net, her face lighting up with joy as the crowd cheered just as loudly as if her dad had scored the winning goal.

Y/n and Declan laughed as they watched Lily get closer to the fans with her arms held high just as her Dad would have done, followed by her falling to her knees in an attempt of a knee slide. "She's her father's daughter." Y/n joked, wrapping her arms around Declan's waist. Declan hugged her tightly, his heart overflowing with love for his family. "We need to get her into football properly." He murmured, pressing a kiss to Y/n's forehead. Y/n hummed in response. "Maybe she'll even put you into retirement." Declan rolled his eyes playfully. "I'll be long gone by then. I'll be in a rocking chair beside you watching her from the living room." Y/n rubbed his chest as the walked towards Lily on the far end of the pitch.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the stadium, Declan, Y/n, and Lily played together, basking in the warmth of their shared victory. For in that moment, they were not just celebrating Arsenal's triumph, but also the joy of being champions together.

#football #football imagines #football blurbs #football x you #football x y/n #football x oc #football x reader #declan rice imagine #declan rice imagines #declan rice x reader #declan rice x y/n #declan rice x you #declan rice blurb #declan rice fanfic #declan rice fluff #declan rice

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project-sekai-facts · 1 year ago

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the way i only JUST realized that in An's "The Overflowing Feelings" card behind her isn't An's reflection no that is NAGI.....

and im pretty sure there is a bunch more symbolism in it because like. i think nagi is wearing a hospital gown in that card instead of her regular clothes but it is kinda hard to tell

sometimes i see an ask and think "i could make this so much worse" and this is one of those times.

that's not a reflection, that is straight up ghost Nagi. if you notice the grunge texture is actually overlaid over the entire illustration, not just behind the fence. it's not a mirror, it's a fence that separates the living (an) and the dead (nagi). i also like how everything except Nagi on the dead side is blurry even the plants that are right next to her. i can't give an actual explanation because annoyingly this set didn't get a blog post, but my personal interpretation of this is that it's meant to show how Nagi is still close to An even after she's gone (personally I like to connect it to An carrying her memory of Nagi in her heart becase she's clutching her shirt over her heart, but i think you could interpret it as Nagi watching over An from the spirit world too if you want).

i think it could be a hospital gown based on general appearance and the way it ties at the back, but as you said it's hard to tell. it would make some sense though since she died in hospital. but it could just be a generic black dress, since it doesn't look like the hospital clothes she wore in the story. also if you look closely you'll notice her lineart is in a white-grey color which makes her look more ghostly than An.

Also notice how all the other pillars have the red flowers on them (the ones from the gekokujo jacket). I believe these are gerberas, which are sometimes used as funeral flowers. i.e the flowers placed on the other pillars are to say goodbye, but she's actually right there with An.

i think i can still make this worse.

contrast with An's card from Vivid Old Tale. y'know, the one all about her relationship with Nagi and the first time they actually implied that Nagi's dead (they subtly hint at it in BFBY but it was far more obvious in VOT).

This set actually did get a blog post so I can go on about the symbolism. The cards in this set were based on the theme of "warmth and nostalgia", which heavily connects to the event being about An looking back at her childhood and time spent with Nagi, and how much she loves her home.

Sunflowers obviously tie in to that warmth, but they also symbolise positivity, happiness, and hope (the color yellow does as well). These connect with both her dreams in the present and memories of the past.

Also this part of the interview:

The people she loves have seen her grow up and smile compared to when she was a kid and crying after running away. Now while people she loves who have watched her grow up could be her mom or dad, or even Taiga, considering the untrained card...

The person she's smiling at is Nagi.

And that's what makes the LUTF set so fucked up because just LOOK there's so much contrast between them. Sunflowers representing VBS' hope compared to the despair in the LUTF set caused by their defeat to Taiga. The bright colors next to greyscale (and red, which has several different connotations multiple of which are applicable here), how cold the LUTF set is next to the VOT set. An holding flowers in both but in one they're flowers symbolising joy and in one they're flowers symbolising grief. The VOT set is youthful and lively but in the LUTF set everyone is angry, despairing and grieving a life lost.

The fact that the POV in An's VOT card is probably Nagi watching her all grown up (which she never got to do in reality) vs Nagi being dead and separated from An in her LUTF card, not to mention that Nagi is not watching her anymore but instead facing away because she's left An behind (but was she ever really with An in the VOT card in the first place?). An crying in both untraineds but in one she's being comforted by Nagi and in one she's crying because Nagi is gone.

In some ways it's like the VOT set is An's idealistic look at what life will be like when Nagi gets home and the LUTF set is An coming to terms with the reality.

this card fucks me up.

#they should bring back mafuyu's medium powers with ghost nagi /j #asks #mod talks

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berryhobii · 1 year ago

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Hiiiii i just absolutely love your work and your representation for us black fans/readers thank u sm!!! im also extremely obsessed with Late for Work couple but this could go for any of the couples. im not sure if youre still taking requests (if not im so sorry not trying to be pushy kdjsks) but i wanted to know how would you think reader x Jungkook handle being an interracial couple in korea?! esp w her being a black woman? like reader feels a moment of insecurity or something and JK feels angry that someone made her feel that way and just loves her and makes her feel better? pure fluff or smut, ik you'd capture it perfectly 🥺💞 love you keep up the amazing work and take it easy!!!! xoxoxoxxxxx 💜💜💜

Hi! Thanks so much for your request! It really inspired me because I definitely understand being in an interracial relationship and the prejudice and problems we as black people face when he decide to date outside of our race. To my black people, WE ARE BEAUTIFUL. We have always been beautiful. People who hate on us fear our beauty because they know they could never replicate us or do what we do. Again, thank you for your request and I hope you enjoy! I made it a angsty but with fluff and just a tiny little piece of smut at the end. I also set this with the LFW Couple during their engagement phase🩵🩵🩵

Being a black woman, you’ve faced a lot of hate and turmoil. Some from your own community, some from others and even some self deprecation from yourself.

Regardless, you had amazing parents and friends who always assured you that your skin was beautiful and that you were beautiful. You were a black woman—the blueprint, the most elegant and graceful, the most envied.

You should be proud and you were.

Despite having so much overflowing confidence, there were moments where you could feel that little monster called insecurity crawling up your spine.

The most recent moment you could remember was a few months after you got engaged to your now wonderful husband, Jungkook.

He had taken charge of a lot of the wedding planning, saying he had a lot of good ideas and since he spent a lot of time at home anyway, he’d do most of the searching and calling. Of course, you’d come home and give some of your ideas as well.

“It’s your day, baby. I want you to have everything you want.”

Your heart and tummy soared with butterflies at hearing that. He really treated you like a princess. It was both of your wedding but Jungkook wanted you to have the wedding of your dreams. He didn’t care if you wanted him to wear pajamas or dye his hair orange, he’d do it if it meant you’d be happy.

With wedding preparations came things like makeup consultations and hair trials. As a black woman in Korea, there wasn’t a lot of options for makeup that fit your skin or people who understood your natural hair so you knew you’d probably be relying on yourself a lot for the time being. Good thing you knew how to do your own makeup and hair but doing it yourself kind of took away the magic and experience of wedding planning.

Thankfully, with some hard searching, you found a salon with a black employee. You could have cried tears of joy, seeing as her skin complexion was close to yours and that she had experience with wedding makeup.

Her name was Jazz and she was actually born in South Korea. The salon she worked at was owned by a close friend of her parents and she’s been working there for a few years.

“So, tell me about your fiancé. Is he handsome?” She asked you in English as she detangled your hair. Your Korean was pretty good but you sometimes preferred English.

You smiled just thinking about him, pulling up a photo of him on your phone. It was a selfie you two took after getting engaged—your left hand raised to show off your ring and him cheesing hard at the camera.

Jazz made an ‘oooo’ sound, looking a little closer at him. “He is very handsome. How’d you bag someone like that?”

With candy crush, you thought.

“Yeah. He’s amazing. He’s so kind and sweet too. I can’t imagine life without him.” You chattered dreamily. Your life had barely started with Jungkook but you wanted to live the rest of it with him. You wanted to laugh with him, to scold him for staying up too late, to argue with him and then make up later, to experience every joyous moment with him.

You only wanted him. For the rest of your life.

Jungkook came to pick you up after your appointment, waltzing into the shop like he owned it. You bit your lip at the sight of him—he’s being growing his hair out, claiming he wanted to see how it would look before the wedding. He asked how you’d like it and you insisted you’d love his hair any kind of way but you were secretly wishing he’d grow it out and wear a ponytail. Fingers crossed!

When you started spending more time together, you noticed how many hours he spent in the gym. You’d FaceTime him sometimes and he’d often be boxing or lifting weights, sweat dripping down his neck and muscles bulging. And yes, the first time you two had sex was after one of those calls. You had given yourself a 90 day time restraint, just to make sure he was pursuing you for more than just sex. 89 days was pretty close though so you considered it a win!

He scrunched his nose in a cute smile when he saw you, long legs carrying him over to where you were getting some final touchups by Jazz. She noticed him approaching, jaw dropping at your fiancé.

She leaned down to whisper scream in your ear, “girl he is fine as hell!”

You chuckled. “I know.” Standing to your feet, you greeted your sexy fiancé. “Hi baby.” You greeted in Korean.

Once he was close enough, he pulled you into a hug, inhaling the scent of your clean hair and all the products Jazz used. He pulled away to get a good look at you.

“You look beautiful baby.” He complimented and you smiled even wider, feeling all giddy under the praise. “Do you think this is the hairstyle you want for the wedding?”

“I like it but I don’t know. I’m gonna come back.”

“Please do!” Jazz chimed from behind you, making both of you laugh.

“Jungkook, this is Jazz.” You introduced. He smiled politely at her, reaching out a hand for her to shake.

“Nice to meet you.”

“The pleasures mine. I have so many ideas for the wedding and I just know your fiancé will look amazing in anything.” She gushed.

You felt Jungkook’s hand squeeze at your waist, looking down at you with soft eyes that made your heart flutter.

“I know she will too.”

You wanted to plant a smooch right on those lips, squeeze him tightly and never let him go.

Jazz’s grin was wider than the damn Joker. Ah, she loved love.

Jungkook’s eyes widened slightly as he remembered something, turning to Jazz, he inquired, “hey, do you guys dye hair here? I’m thinking of going purple.” He followed an excited Jazz over to the wall where they kept hair dye samples.

You smiled endearingly at both of them. They both gave off golden retriever energy. You hoped they’d be friends.

While they did that, you went back to the waiting area. You had seen a wedding magazine that you wanted to show Jungkook.

There were 2 older Korean lady’s sitting there, chatting to each other and reading magazines as well. They looked up when you entered, giving you looks that you’ve grown used to living here. It wasn’t really disgust or anything, it was more like a “what are you going here” kind of look.

You smiled at them, bowing your head a little in respect before shifting through the magazines for the one you were looking for. You found it, flipping through the pages to search for the centerpieces you saw.

“She’s marrying him? How distasteful.” You heard one of them say. You paused for a second. Were they talking about you? No, right? They were already having a conversation before you walked up. They were probably talking about someone else.

Just mind your business, you thought.

“It’s bad enough one of them is working here. I don’t want her touching my hair but Sunhee insists she knows what she’s doing. I don’t believe it. They can barely take care of their own hair. Just look at it.”

There was no way you could doubt that. They were definitely talking about Jazz. She had hair that appeared shorter, compliments of shrinkage. She showed you a photo of her hair straight and it was very close to her butt. You knew of the negative implications behind natural hair, especially when it came to shrinkage and the stereotypes surrounding it. You wished people understood more about black hair but ignorance had no bounds.

“I’d never let my son marry one of her kind. Look at her. She looks dirty. Just imagine their children. Ugh.”

Dirty? You weren’t dirty. And what was one of your kind? They were talking about you like you were less than human. You’ve experienced a lot over the years living here in South Korea—fetishization, discrimination, even people randomly touching you but you’ve never had anyone be that bold to speak about you right in front of you. They must have heard you speaking English with Jazz and assumed you didn’t understand them. Or they could very much well know you spoke Korean and just didn’t care.

You didn’t even realize Jungkook approaching you, startling a little at his hand on your back.

“You alright, baby?”

You managed a convincing smile. You didn’t want to cause a scene or anything. Jungkook was very overprotective of you. He didn’t tolerate disrespect and your comfort and safety was his number one priority. He was quick to remove you from any situations that he thought you’d be unsafe in and he was even quicker in shutting someone down who tried to embarrass or disrespect you.

You trusted him with your whole heart so why was it so hard to tell him? You took one look in those doe like eyes and you never wanted to see them harden in anger or get misty with tears.

So you smiled and reassured him. “I’m fine. I wanted to show you these centerpieces. Aren’t they nice?”

“They’re wonderful. I really like that arrangement. Let me take a picture of it.” He pulled out his phone and snapped a quick photo. “Ready to go? Taehyung and Namjoon invited us out to dinner.”

“Yup. All ready. Let me just say bye to Jazz.”

He nodded and let you go. Your smile dropped when you turned around, speed walking over to Jazz who was cleaning her station.

She noticed you walking up. “Oh, your fiancé already paid for you. He also made an appointment to dye his hair purple. Can you believe it? I personally think red would suit him better but-“

You cut her off by pulling her into a tight hug. You know you just met her so this was probably strange but you just needed her to know something.

She did think this was the tiniest bit weird but she still reciprocated your hug. You were a really nice person and she loved knowing of another black woman living in the same area.

“You okay?” She asked.

You pulled away and smiled at her. “I’m wonderful. And you’re beautiful.”

Her expression softened. “Thank you. So are you.”

“Here, take my number. I’d love it if you could come to my wedding.”

The entire car ride home, you were quiet. You had turned on the music to avoid any conversation. You knew if Jungkook started questioning you about what happened at the salon, you’d break and tell him about those women. You also knew it was stupid of you to hold it in but you just couldn’t tell him. You’d just forget and move on.

Yeah, that wasn’t happening.

When you got home, Jungkook went to take a phone call and you went to the bedroom to stare at yourself in the mirror.

You loved your hair. You loved yourself. You loved your skin. Those women were just ignorant. You shouldn’t let them get to you.

But you couldn’t stop thinking of what they said about you and Jungkook.

“I’d never let my son marry one of her kind.”

Did Jungkook’s parents think that of you? They were very kind to you and never made you feel not welcomed. You spoke to his mother all the time about the wedding. She’s even taught you how to cook Jungkook’s favorite meals. His father was a bit more stern but still a very kind man.

And what about Jungkook? Did he have an issue with you being black? You don’t think he would have dated or proposed to you if he didn’t, right? You never assumed he had an issue with your race just like you didn’t have a problem with his. Of course, you acknowledged he was Korean and you did your best to respect him and his culture. He was always so open, assuring that you could ask him anything and you did the same.

He admitted you were the first non Korean woman he’s ever dated and he didn’t want to do anything to offend you. Like he assured you, you told him that you weren’t much different from others. You still expected him to treat you well in this relationship and vice versa. Your differences in your races and culture didn’t really change very much.

So moments like these really made you wonder if you were too different.

“Baby, we have a few hours before dinner. Did you want to play It Takes Two with me?” Jungkook asked as he entered the bedroom. He noticed how you were staring at yourself but not in the normal admiring way you often did.

This time, your face looked somber. Was something bothering you?

“Baby? Are you okay?”

You looked at him through the mirror.

You couldn’t keep it from him any longer.

Sighing, you turned to face him. He had moved closer to you so now he was just inches away.

For some reason, you couldn’t lift your eyes to meet his. Shame burned at you.

Jungkook pouted his lip and tilted his head, reaching out a hand to cup your cheek and raise your head. Your eyes met and suddenly that dam broke.

He could see how your eyes began to tear up and he panicked. “What’s wrong? What happened?” He racked his brain for anything he could have done to upset you but nothing was really coming to mind. Was this one of those times you wanted him to pick up on hints? He could be a little dense sometimes which you thought was cute. You were good at communicating which helped both of you avoid any unnecessary problems.

So what was wrong?

“Jungkook…..do you….have a problem with me being black?”

Wow. Not what he was expecting. Then again, he didn’t really know what to expect. You hardly cried so he hasn’t gotten very good at determining your types of crying.

He was baffled by your question. “What? What are you talking about?”

You sighed again. “Well, I overheard these women talking at the salon. They were talking about me and Jazz. They called me dirty and said that they’d never let their sons marry one of my kind….” You inhaled a shaky breath, looking away from his eyes. If you looked any longer, the tears would fall.

Jungkook felt two emotions well up in him. The first was pure rage because how dare someone speak about you like that? He wished he had heard it because he would have given those women a piece of his mind. Respecting your elders was an important part of his culture but he didn’t give a damn about that when someone was disrespecting you.

The second emotion was sympathy because he hated seeing you doubt yourself. You were such a wonderful person, surefooted and with an unflappable spirit. You let comments roll off your back like water, only looking ahead and never letting people taint your energy. He knew you used to struggle sometimes with self love, especially trudging through the world as a black woman but he never saw it get to you and he admired that about you.

So to see you ready to cry over this made his heart ache for you.

“Sweetheart, look at me.”

You blinked your tears away, slowly shifting your gaze to stare back at him. A gentle smile was on his face, one you only ever saw during moments like this—those moments where he could fully open his heart up to you.

“Do you really think I would have even pursued you if I had a problem with that?”

You shrugged your shoulder. “I don’t know….” You mumbled, averting your gaze again but he moved his head a little to make you look at him again.

“I think you’re the most stunning person I’ve ever laid eyes on. When I first saw you, all I could think was how could such a gorgeous person exist? Naturally, I noticed your skin but only because it was glowing. You were brighter than anyone in that restaurant.”

You choked out a watery laugh. You remember that day. It was one of those days where you felt particularly hot. You weren’t expecting to meet someone but there was Jungkook, a little awkward but so charming. He caught your attention immediately. No one knew but receiving those flowers from him solidified your attraction to him and a part of you knew you’d be together in the long haul.

“I don’t care about you being black.” Then he realized what he said and backtracked a little. “Well, of course I care but you know, I don’t and….wait let me start over.” He stumbled, making you laugh again. That boyish awkwardness always managed to rear its head but it only made you fall for him even harder.

“I get what you mean.”

He sheepishly grinned before continuing, “I care about it because I care about you but I also don’t care because that’s not all you are. You’re sensible and bright and clever and so self assured. Not to mention, your ass is absolutely amazing and I want it tattooed on my forehead.”

You snorted a laugh, playfully smacking him on the chest. He was so silly but he knew if it was possible, he’d do it. He was that obsessed with you and everything about you.

“You’re ridiculous.”

He wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you closer to him, sparkling eyes blinking up at him.

“And your laugh is goofy and you’re bad at reading directions for furniture and you put your freezing cold feet on me at night which drives me insane.” He huffed.

“Socks are uncomfortable.” You defended.

“But…” He leaned down to brush his lips over yours. “I love all of that about you. I’ve never once doubted that. I love you, all of you.”

The tears finally fell but they weren’t because of your insecurity, not anymore. They were because you adored this man in front of you and you felt so unbelievably lucky to have him in your life.

“I love you too.”

Your lips met in a kiss that reminded you that he was what you needed. He was the only person you wanted.

And as you made love that night, sweet whispers of his love warming your skin, all of those previous anxieties had completely dispersed from your mind. His cock stretched you open, your arms holding him tightly and his hands grounding you to this reality. His lips blazed hot kisses across any skin he could reach, hips pushing slow and deep inside of you and bringing you closer to euphoria.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispered, gripping your thighs that were wrapped around his waist and keeping him close.

“Jungkook….” You breathily uttered his name, not knowing what else to say but he didn’t need you to. He could feel all of your emotion through his name and he wanted to hear more of it.

“I got you, baby. Always.”

That little monster was locked back in its cage for now. You couldn’t guarantee it wouldn’t break free again but you knew Jungkook would be there to help you through everything.

Everytime.

#bts #bts smut #bts x black reader #bts fic #askberryhobii #jungkook smut

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alearicci · 1 year ago

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“estie... our daughter is perfect” – EO31

pairings: esteban ocon x wife!reader; esteban ocon x wife!y/n

summary: while Esteban performs at the Grand Prix and merges into one with speed, he does not even suspect that his wife y/n ocon is about to give birth to their long-awaited daughter.

warnings: pregnancy, the birth of the first child, a lot of emotions and reflections, comfort, tears

note: the second part is already in the profile. im crying. I really love estie and this theme of story. expect a lot of stories about family daily 🥹

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ♡ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

Every cell of his being wanted to be near his wife y/n, to meet their newborn daughter Amelie, who entered this world while he was racing.

With the festive champagne still sparkling on his racing suit, Esteban wasted no time. He hurriedly headed to the hospital, his mind consumed by a mixture of joy, anticipation and an insatiable desire to hug his daughter for the first time.

Already sitting in his car, Esteban started it and hurriedly taxied the sports car onto the main road. Keeping his hands firmly on the steering wheel, he involuntarily thought about everything that was happening.

He's been dreaming about his daughter all his life. Not even about my son, although he also dreamed of him, but about my daughter. Vowing to be the best father he could be, he felt a huge determination to give her everything she deserved— love, support and opportunities that he may have missed out on as a child.

Memories of his own childhood came flooding back to him, when financial difficulties sometimes loomed over his head. To fulfill his dream, his parents had to sacrifice too much. The realization that he could now give his daughter the life he could only dream of lit a fire in him.

With every ounce of his being, Esteban promised himself that his daughter would never experience the difficulties he faced in his childhood. He will work tirelessly to secure her future, ensuring that she will be surrounded by the comfort, stability and resources necessary to realize her dreams.

I wonder what her dream will be?

But it wasn't just about material goods. He was fully aware that it is possible to be a great father regardless of financial capabilities. He sought to build a deep emotional connection with his daughter, to be close to her in every possible way. His thoughts wandered over the precious moments they would share, from bedtime stories to teaching her how to ride a bike, from cheering her on at school plays to being her unwavering support in difficult moments.

It was a pain in the heart that they would have to part often because of Ocon's career. As soon as this thought popped into his head, Esteban bit his lower lip and tightened his hands on the steering wheel. Now we need to think not about this, but about how their first meeting will happen.

As he sped along the road, the roar of the engine mixed with the stream of thoughts that dominated his head. "Amelie," he whispered to himself, savoring the sound of her name coming off his tongue. Chords of pride and overwhelming love began to intertwine in his thoughts, mixing with the responsibilities and dreams that lay ahead of him as a father.

Time seemed to pass at a snail's pace as he anxiously made his way through the crowded streets to the maternity hospital. The roar of the crowd and the impetuous atmosphere of the circuit were replaced by a serene calm that engulfed his thoughts. With each passing milestone on the way, his heart was filled with expectation.

Every red light, every turn and every passing car only fueled Esteban's impatience. He couldn't wait to hug y/n to soothe her with a gentle hug after a long wait. His heart was fluttering with anticipation, overflowing with love for the woman who stood by his side no matter what.

Finally reaching the hospital, Esteban hastily parked the car and rushed to the entrance. Nurses and doctors in smocks and masks greeted him with understanding smiles, recognizing the famous Formula 1 racer. However, at that moment he was just a nervous father-to-be.

Finally the moment has come. Esteban entered the hospital room, his gaze immediately stopped on y/n. He caught his breath when he saw her, her face shining with a mixture of fatigue and pure happiness. Their eyes met, conveying a deep message of love and gratitude that could not be expressed in any words.

Esteban distinctly felt moisture begin to accumulate in the corners of his eyes. He laughed faintly and covered his eyes with his hand, not wanting to show his weakness to his beloved wife.

She smiled faintly and muttered.

"Come to me, my love"

Ocon obediently walked over and sat down on a chair next to y/n's bed. She reached out her hand and gently stroked his cheek. Esteban sniffed and put his hand on hers.

"We did it, l'amour de ma vie. (love of my life)"

"No, you did it, y/n. She's everything we could ever dream of, honey. I can't believe how lucky we are to have her in our lives. I'm so proud of you, my love. You brought our beautiful girl into this world."

Esteban smiled tenderly and leaned towards his wife to leave a light kiss on her lips. He didn't want to disturb her and decided that he would have time to kiss her properly a little later.

"I'm going to cry, Estie."

This intimate and personal moment was interrupted by the arrival of the doctor.

"Mr. Ocon, good evening. Your baby is strong and healthy, the nurse can bring her here or you can go to her. Do you want to see her?"

"Yes, Doc, a thousand times yes."

"Let the baby be brought here," y/n said softly. "I want to see them."

"Okay, then wait a bit."

The doctor left and in just a few seconds a nurse entered the room with a baby in a special transparent box.

"Will you take her in your arms?"

Esteban exhaled loudly and did not dare to look at his child. He was both ready and not ready to face this little miracle.

"If possible."

"Of course. Take off your T-shirt, it will be an important ritual in forming your bond. Hold it, just be careful."

"Of course," Esteban replied and took the baby in his arms.

She was light. Like a feather.

His heart seemed about to pop out of his chest.

The sight of her delicate, delicate features on her face filled him with awe and a sense of deep responsibility. Tears welled up in his eyes when he realized the incredible privilege granted to him — fatherhood.

His hands were shaking as he pulled her to him. When her tiny gentle warmth touched his skin, a wave of emotions overwhelmed him. In that infinitesimal moment, he felt an indissoluble bond forming, forever binding his heart to the heart of his daughter. He admired her innocence, her beautiful soul and the amazing mixture of herself and y/n that lay before him.

"Welcome to this wonderful world, my sweet Amelie," Esteban whispered, his voice full of tenderness and reverence. He admired the miracle of life and the connection he instantly felt with his daughter.

He gently cradled the newborn Amelie in his strong but gentle arms. With a soft smile on his face, he leaned a little closer and whispered to her in a soothing voice, trying not to disturb her sleep and peace.

"You are already loved more than words can express," he whispered, his voice filled with an overwhelming sense of awe and joy.

Ocon couldn't help but admire the miracle of life and the incredible journey that his daughter was going to have. He spoke softly, sharing his hopes, dreams and aspirations for her.

"I want you to know that you can become anyone. You already have my mom's strength, determination and talent to cope with any challenge that gets in your way," he muttered with unshakable faith in his voice.

He continued to share his love and admiration, his words were filled with warmth and encouragement.

"You see, my little one, life will be filled with ups and downs, triumphs and failures, but always remember that I am here for you. I will be your guiding star, your greatest support, ready to cherish every moment with you," he whispered, his voice laced with unwavering commitment.

Speaking to her, Okon could already imagine how many adventures they were going to have together. From race tracks to family gatherings and ordinary, everyday moments, he promised to be present at every stage of her life.

"And whenever the world makes you feel depressed or insecure, just know that you can always find comfort in my arms. I will hold you, comfort you and remind you of what a great girl you are," he shared, his voice filled with unconditional fatherly love.

With a gentle and loving touch, Formula 1 driver Esteban Ocon cradled his newborn daughter Amelie in his strong arms. The dimly lit room became a serene backdrop for this precious moment, when Esteban quietly whispered to his tiny bundle of joy.

"Welcome to this world, my sweet Amelie," Esteban whispered, his voice full of tenderness and reverence. He admired the miracle of life and the connection he instantly felt with his daughter. Looking into her eyes, he wondered what adventures awaited them.

"You are the most precious gift, Amelie. I promise to protect you, guide you and love you with all my heart," Esteban continued a little louder than a whisper. He knew the challenges and uncertainties that lay ahead, but he was determined to be the best father and role model for his little girl.

Esteban gently stroked Amelie's delicate cheek, tracing the contours of her face with his fingertips. He admired her tiny features and the perfect harmony she seemed to embody. At that moment, time stopped when he was overwhelmed by a wave of overwhelming love.

"Tu fais partie de moi, Amélie, et je fais partie de toi (You are a part of me, Amelie, and I am a part of you)," Esteban whispered, a mixture of excitement and a sense of responsibility in his voice. He was thinking about the legacy he wanted to pass on to his daughter—a legacy of perseverance, dedication and striving for a dream.

As Esteban continued to cradle his daughter, he whispered secrets about the world they would explore together, ranging from the breakneck speed of the race track to the tranquility of nature. He talked about the different cultures they would encounter, the lessons they would learn, and the memories they would create.

"You see, mon petit ange (my little angel), life is an incredible journey, and I will be by your side every step of the way," Esteban whispered, his voice a mixture of unshakable determination and deep love. He imagined the two of them overcoming difficulties, supporting each other and celebrating victories, both big and small.

While Amelie was peacefully dozing in his arms, Esteban Ocon's adoration for his daughter grew immeasurably. In that quiet moment, he knew that this bond they shared would be unbreakable.

With a final whisper, he whispered, "Amelie, my precious, you are my world, and I will love you forever."

With every whispered word, Ocon created a connection that would last a lifetime. He knew that Amelie would grow up to be as strong, resilient and determined as her father.

In that precious moment when he cradled his precious daughter and shared his heartfelt feelings, Esteban Ocon became a beacon of love, inspiration and support for his beloved Amelie.

In this hospital room, surrounded by the love of his wife and the newfound joy of his daughter's presence, Esteban realized that winning the race was just a chapter in a much grander adventure. The real victory lay in this precious family, now united by a common love that will last for their entire lives.

Cradling Amelie in his arms, Esteban Ocon felt a deep sense of gratitude for the journey that had brought him to this unusual moment. The upcoming path of a loving husband and devoted father promised countless victories, trials and unceasing love.

Esteban had forgotten that in addition to him and his daughter, there was a nurse and his wife in the room. When his gaze fell on them, the nurse was sitting on the edge of the patient's bed and handing her paper handkerchiefs with which she wiped her tears.

Looking at them, Ocon couldn't help smiling and gently, barely perceptibly, kissed his treasure on the forehead.

crying part two?

#esteban ocon #esteban ocon x reader #fatherhood #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula 1 #oneshot #formula one #family #child #popular #estie bestie #oco31 #f1 #drabble

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