#found this in my drafts from like 6 months ago lol and nodded along to it

[bthump]

Guts thinks Griffith is a little cruel for keeping the Hawks in the dark about his fake death. He knows they’ll be upset, because they care about Griffith. Griffith, imo, doesn’t really consider this. He sees himself as someone who carries the Hawks up without revealing his “dirty side,” to them, and at this point he’s carried them as far as he’s able to after winning the war. He’s no longer useful to them, so why should they care that much if he seems to die?

Ironically, Guts is cruel himself in a very similar way for leaving the Hawks to go swing his sword against strong opponents alone. The war’s over, the fighting’s over, he’s done all he can to be useful to them, so why should it matter if he leaves?

It does matter, because they matter to their friends, not just for what they can do for them, but because of who they are, because they’re loved just as people.

And Guts and Griffith’s twin fatal flaws are their failures to understand this thanks to trauma and low self esteem. Neither of them are content to just be people - they feel they have to earn every scrap of human connection they can get, through leading people to a better life and through swinging a sword.

Guts leaving the Hawks is also paralleled to the Eclipse. Not because they’re equivalent decisions lol, but because those decisions came from the same place for both of them.

When Guts leaves the Hawks it destroys them. Griffith has a breakdown, this leads to the Hawks being considered traitors, and Midland’s armies surrounding them and attacking them en masse is a parallel to the monsters of the Eclipse, imo. It happens because Guts’ dream is more important to him than his relationships with the Hawks, and it’s more important because he doesn’t consider himself worthy of friendship yet, so he doesn’t see the friendships he already has. He doesn’t think his departure will have much of an effect on the Hawks.

Griffith sacrifices the Hawks in part because the only way he sees himself as having worth is by making the world a better place. His post torture situation was his own personal hell (”To be born, and then to simply live for no better reason... I can’t abide such a lifestyle.”) and at that point, after a year of torture and a lifetime of emotionally distancing himself from people, it makes sense for him to make the sacrifice. Trading lives to achieve the goal that you believe is the only thing that gives you worth in their eyes is the extreme end point of seeing your worth as only what you can do for others, rather than in just being a person who is loved.

Guts and Griffith both essentially make the same mistake and the same decision for the same reason with similar consequences. Griffith’s sacrifice is a dark reflection of Guts’ departure, and it finishes the job Guts inadvertantly started.

[prettywordsyouleft]

The Cowboy - Part 13

Summary: Leaving the city for a rural area called Blayne seemed simple enough. Your task was to convince the people to agree with selling their land for a resort redevelopment. But once there, you soon realise that your city ways are entirely different to theirs. Winning their trust was going to take some effort, and when you start to fall for a local cowboy, you wonder if you really needed Blayne more than the city life after all.

Pairing: Jung Jaehyun x female reader

Genre: cowboy au / drama / romance / if you squint there’s some enemies to lovers up in here.

Warnings: Jung Jaehyun is a cowboy, need I say more? (a bit of angst and drama, and it sometimes might feel like you’re reading a Nicolas Sparks book, so I’m told lol)

Word count: 2450

Preview | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14

“This is crazy!”

Glancing at Natalia next to you in the car as you neared the border for Blayne, you grinned. “I thought you grew up on farms?”

“The kind near the city. Nothing like this. There’s just a whole lot of land out here.”

“I would ask if you want me to turn around and take you back, but after travelling for this long, I want to just be done from being in this car.”

Laughing, Natalia craned her neck to use the side mirror. “I think the truck behind us might find that a little burdensome too.”

“I’m amazed that truck of his made it to the city and back.��

“Aren’t you glad Jaehyun came for you?” she wondered, and you couldn’t hide the genuine smile that spread out your lips immediately. “You’re smitten!”

“You’ve seen him. How could I not be?”

“Blayne’s livestock sure are made of fine specimens,” Natalia teased, and you laughed heartily.

“They do claim to have the best pigs in the nation, but I’m not so sure if that relates to all the men they have, Nat.”

“Well, the two I’ve seen…” She trailed off to kiss her fingers. “Total chef kiss.”

“Avery is single, too.”

“I never asked.”

“You didn’t need to. I could see the wheels turning from here.”

“Do you reckon he’d want a country Belle or-”

You grinned. “For Avery, I think he likes women in whatever way they come.”

“That doesn’t speak much for my chances.”

“Why not, Miss Natalia?” you chimed, and your best friend swatted your arm. “He didn’t even refer to me like that when I met him. Should I be sad?”

“Stop trying to snatch my cowboy away from me. You already have your own.”

Suddenly the truck signalled its horn behind you and you glanced up into the rear-mirror, noticing the indicator of the truck now on. Turning your attention to the side of the road, you couldn’t help but laugh at that gas station you had gone to all those months ago appearing again.

You didn’t need any gas, but it seemed Jaehyun’s truck needed the pit stop. Getting out of your vehicle, you noticed the smoke coming out from under the hood. Walking over to Jaehyun’s side, you gasped noisily. “Looks like it’s finally died on you.”

“She’s not dead,” he grumbled, running a hand through his hair agitatedly after popping the hood. “She needs water.”

“And a retirement,” Avery added on, leaning on the side of Jaehyun’s truck whilst shaking his head. “You and your stubborn ways.”

“I’m not giving up on her,” Jaehyun announced, and you frowned with the level of emotion you heard in his tone. He groaned. “Though, I think I might need to leave her here tonight so she doesn’t overheat further.”

Avery nodded. “I’ll go sort it out with Mick inside the station.”

Kicking the tire gently, Jaehyun turned to look over your shoulder, not quite meeting your eye. Stepping in and placing your hands on his hips, you shot him an encouraging smile. “We’ll come and pick your truck up tomorrow.”

“We?”

“Well, I’d offer to tow it, but my car won’t handle that. I’m sure Avery’s truck will, though.”

“I’m starting to feel nervous,” Jaehyun confessed, and you blinked curiously. “At your return. People are going to talk.”

“I hope they’ve been talking up a storm. And that they are still willing to talk even when I’m there. Nat and I will rely on that talk to get things moving.”

“You’re so certain about this,” he observed, and you nodded once. “Why?”

“Because this is my project. I invested a lot of my time and energy into Blayne and found the deficit too glaring to just forget about it all when your Dad ordered me to leave. Further, I can’t just stop loving you either. You and I still have a lot to discuss.”

Jaehyun nodded thoughtfully, his signature lopsided, dimpled grin appearing. “You’re a formidable woman, Miss Adaptable.”

You didn’t make a big fuss about sitting down for that chat right away once you were back in Blayne. There was a lot to be done, especially around your new residence. You weren’t staying on the Jung’s property this time, even though you wished nothing more than to wake up in your bedroom at the homestead.

Instead, you were the first guests since 1983 to inhabit the inn.

“You sure there’s no ghost stories associated with this place?” Natalia queried as you both ate breakfast in the kitchen a few days after your arrival.

Grinning at your best friend, you shrugged. “Who knows? But if there are any more co-inhabitants here with us, they ought to pick up a broom and give things a good sweep or dusting.”

“We’ve been clearing cobwebs for days. How is this town going to be a hub of change, Y/N?”

“Nothing worthwhile comes without any effort, Natty. This place is kind of charming if you put aside its outdated décor.”

“Charming, you say,” she mentioned, pointing to the dripping tap in the kitchen. Even if the room now sparkled as best as it could from your combined cleaning, you still had repairs that were pressing.

“It could be very charming,” another voice mentioned, and you grinned at Avery’s cheeky appearance. “Sorry for intruding. The back door’s always been easy enough to get in through.”

“So it’s not just your cousin who’s good with getting in and out of places they shouldn’t be.”

“Where do you think I learned it from?” Avery admitted with an easy laugh, and after sending Natalia a wink, he placed a toolbox up on the countertop. “Leaky tap, huh? I guess I ought to fix this for you before it drives you nuts.”

“Will you?!” Natalia asked, graciously smiling in his direction. “It’s not the only one needing repairs, admittedly.”

“It’s a good thing I ran down to the hardware store a town over for some new faucets then, isn’t it?”

“Where’s Jaehyun?”

As he looked for the right tool, Avery answered. “On the ranch.”

“He okay on his own?”

“Sure, if you call being in the company of my grouchy uncle after us leaving Blayne last week caused him to get behind in work, being okay.”

“I actually have to go see Mr Jung today,” you announced and smiled at the pair who stopped staring flirtatiously at each other to look in your direction. “It’s time to get things rolling, don’t you think?”

“Will you be okay?”

“If Jaehyun’s handling his father, then I think I’ll go assist him. I’m half at fault here.”

“I don’t agree entirely with that, Y/N.”

Natalia agreed with Avery. “You aren’t at fault at all.”

“There’s a lot of things I want answers to and a whole lot of information I will need to pass on to him now that I’m here to work on the redevelopment of Blayne for housing.”

“He has a temper.”

“That much I’m aware of already, Avery,” you replied with a grin, picking up your coffee and raising it in a gesture of farewell. “Nat, you stay here and help point out the areas for Avery to work on.”

“Sure, I can do that,” she answered and turned to mouth a thank you at you.

Chuckling as you stepped outside and over to your car, you stopped when you saw Dorothy crossing the road towards you.

“Well, I’ll be damned. Everyone said you were back, but I didn’t believe it until these eyes of mine saw it in person!”

Taking her hand fondly, you cocked your head to the side. “Did you truly think you could get rid of me that easily?! I have work to do here!”

“Are you staying in the inn, Y/N? I’ll make sure to send my Jacob over to help with anything you might need repairing. Lord only knows how that place is holding up.”

Pointing to the building you had just departed, you smiled. “Avery is inside fixing some taps already.”

“Really? Well, he didn’t wait long. I thought everyone was instructed to stay put until Old Jung stopped punishing his boy for bringing you back.”

“Is that how everyone is seeing it?”

“Did I speak out of turn?!” Dorothy asked with a gasp, and you shook your head firmly.

“Not at all, Dorothy. I’m grateful for what you just said. Do let everyone know it was June Jung who I called in regards to returning to Blayne about, however. She’s the one who let me and my best friend into the inn, after all.”

“June?! She’s never the type not to follow along with her husband’s word!”

Shaking your head again, you patted her lower arm. “There’s a lot to Mrs Jung that Blayne folk seem to not know about.”

Greeting June when you arrived at her home shortly after, you grinned brightly at her. She laughed. “I was worried after a few nights in that inn you might decide to leave.”

“It’s nothing like the homestead, but I can see with some effort put in how it can help with our plans.”

“He’s not exactly thrilled.”

You nodded. “I doubt your husband is.”

“But he is listening. I told him to wait for you in his office. He gruffly headed in there five minutes ago.”

“I won’t keep him waiting then,” you assured June, smiling again before taking the same pathway you had a couple of weeks ago.

Inhaling a deep breath, you pushed forward into the office, Mr Jung looking up at you. You smiled politely. “It’s nice to see you again. In case you’ve forgotten, I’m Y/N, Blayne’s new town building specialist.”

Mr Jung ignored the hand you held out to him and cleared his throat but didn’t answer. Deciding to take his silence as not a complete refusal, you sat down across from him and pulled out the proposal you had drafted up for this meeting. And without any hesitation, you launched into it.

He didn’t interrupt your speech, even picking up the copy of the plans you had placed on the table midway through and flicked to the page you were talking about. By the time you reached the end of your planned speech, you were a mixture of relief and curiosity.

You had no idea what Mr Jung was thinking.

Heaving out a breath when you were finally done, Mr Jung nodded softly. “Very well.”

“Is that all?” you asked, and Mr Jung stared over at you. His gaze didn’t make you uncomfortable, rather, vulnerable. It was as if he was trying to pick a way into your brain and figure everything out about you.

Sighing when he didn’t seem to find whatever it was, Mr Jung looked out the window. “My family has been here for generations.”

“I looked into it when initially setting up here,” you confirmed, and he smiled swiftly.

“I suppose you know about my wife then.”

“I do. I believe it’s why she’s been supportive of my stay here.”

“She tells me that you remind her of herself. I don’t entirely see it, though I’m aged and weathered now. My son, however, he’s young.”

“We don’t have to discuss Jaehyun if you are going to berate and accuse me of-”

“My son is the next generation of the Jung family line. He’ll inherit this ranch when I leave this earth, and I hope his children in the future continue to help Blayne remain a fair and happy community. When June and I found we couldn’t have any further children, where I come from a line of ten, I foolishly believed if I shaped Jaehyun from an early age to take on this place, we would continue a successful line. My parents entrusted this ranch to me, the only son. Perhaps if I had daughters too, I would have softened. But I only had one child, and I was too harsh.”

“Why did the fire happen, Mr Jung?” you asked softly, and the man rubbed at his face before leaning back in his chair.

“I told Jaehyun he couldn’t ever leave Blayne. That kid is something else. He always has been. He’s good with the cattle, he’s even better upon a horse. His school got him into rodeo early on, and I thought it would only shape him to have a competitive streak to help our ranch. The first time I saw him do a run, I knew there was more to his riding, though. But he was only twelve then. Teenage years would come, and I assumed he would choose new interests, or feel the weight of the work around the yard. Jaehyun didn’t let go of the barrels and would train even at night if he had to. He never failed to do his chores first, and I grew exasperated that I couldn’t find a way to stop him.”

“As a parent, shouldn’t you encourage his pursuits?” you pointed out, and Mr Jung nodded loosely.

“I was real proud of my boy. He had more trophies and rosettes in that bedroom of his than he had anything else. When he got scouted, he was beaming from ear to ear. I was selfish. We didn’t have anyone to take his spot here if he was going to be away. My father preached to me about how this ranch has been handled by Jung hands for decades. What you assume I did next is correct.”

“You took him out of barrel racing.”

“I thought it was for the best. And then he ran away from home. He caused trouble for a few families here with their kids following him. Avery was almost sent to boarding school because May was worried Jaehyun corrupted him. I had a township to maintain the peace with too. So I took the wrong approach with Jaehyun and cornered him further.”

“Why a fire, though?”

“I told him his only place on earth was Blayne. He said he wished Blayne would stop existing. I didn’t think he’d actually do anything about it. But he broke into the theatre that night, and the fire quickly took hold of our town.”

You merely sat there, trying to battle through Jaehyun’s past anguish and understanding the father who carried deep remorse for his actions.

Mr Jung noticed and smiled sadly. “I tried to take the blame. After all, I had driven my son to choose that path. But the people knew better. So my only approach to Jaehyun, who was racked with guilt, was to use that to hold him here. He’s never thought of leaving or doing anything else.”

Mr Jung stared at you with an indescribable expression. “Until you arrived, Y/N.”

_________________

Part 14

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[excelsi-or]

just a little sweeter (pt. 10)

HELLLLOOOOOOOO~~ are you guys still there? LOL, it’s been like a month and a half since I last posted on here. The end of the semester just really got intense with projects, presentations, and finals. But I’m here and back for at least two weeks. I wanna see if I can bosh out the rest of this series before I move onto another one. 

I hope you’re all well. If you wanna update me on what’s new with you all, I’d love to know. I applied to grad school. I have one more semester left before graduation. Vaccinations have started in my area of the world. I started playing Hollow Knight (if anyone wants to talk about THIS GAME, please do. I love it.) Think that’s kinda it. 

BIPOC reeeeeccccc: N. K. Jemisin’s The City We Became is EXCELLENT. Diversity, racism, feminism, LGBTQ representation. I love it so much. One of my favourite books of the year, hands down. Nicole Crowder on IG does like upholstery and interior DIYs and content. I’ve been wanting to upholster these two chairs in my home and she put up a whole 2 min tutorial on how to do it. 

w.c. 3k (lol, it got really long oops! fluff and mature content, not quite smut, but it was definitely getting there. The first draft of this part was basically just smut, so I chopped and fixed it LOL. hope you guys still like it.)

pt.1; pt.2; pt.3; pt.4; pt.5; pt.6; pt.7; pt.8; pt. 9

“What do you mean you haven’t had sex with him yet?”

She rolls her eyes and sets a bowl in front of her previous roommate. Soobin had moved out months ago, shortly after she’d met Jihoon.

“It’s going really slow.” She slips into the seat across the table. “We haven’t really said I love you yet either.”

“What do you mean ‘haven’t really said’? What? Just ‘cause Woozi’s an idol he doesn’t know how to treat you right?”

She motions for Soobin to tuck into the food. “Jihoon is treating me wonderfully, thank you very much.” She pauses, her chopsticks hovering in the air. “It’s just… slow.”

“He has a whole child!” Soobin chews her noodles as she continues. “You’ve already passed the point of going slow.”

“It’s not as if Eunha is my child.”

“The kid spends more time here than any of our friends or your family.”

“Jihoon’s been busy.” She shrugs. “It’s easier for him to leave Eunha here than take her with him. Plus, you know the Terror likes her.”

Soobin chuckles. “That little horror of a brother of yours likes everyone.”

She smirks. “Okay, fair.” Then she waves her chopsticks between them. “But Eunha’s probably the reason why he’s going slow. We need to see if we’re compatible.” She meets Soobin’s gaze. “The man has a child.”

“It’s been months!” Soobin quickly cuts in before any interruptions. “Seven months to be exact. You would think that the next step at analyzing compatibility is whether you guys vibe in bed.”

She hums. She doesn’t want to admit out loud that yeah, she’s been having fantasies about Jihoon. However, she hasn’t gotten any clear signals from Jihoon that he wants to pursue anything further than making out on her couch after a date. And before she can broach the topic, he’s off to go get Eunha. If Jihoon never wanted to have sex with her, she wonders if that would be a deal breaker. But she really has no idea.

“Have you talked to him about it?”

“Sex? No.”

“So, what do you guys talk about?”

She throws her head back with a laugh. “You say that as if the only thing you and Jae talk about is sex.”

“Well, it came up a lot when we first started dating.”

“That’s because you guys started off having sex.” She sighs, turning her noodles with the tips of her chopsticks. “This relationship is really different. I don’t know how to gauge it.”

“Do you love him?”

“I haven’t told him.”

“But you do.”

“Yeah.”

“And does Eunha put you off wanting to be with him?”

She rests her cheek in her palm. “I honestly thought she would, but she only makes me love him more.”

“Then talking about sex, even if you’re not having it, is the next step.” Soobin gauges her friend’s reaction. “Even if Jihoon is the type not to want it. You should at least know that. He’s obviously done it at one point.”

There’s a pause before they both say, “The child.”

She nods. “You’re right though. We should talk about it.”

Seungcheol knocks on the studio door. “Hey. You needed me?”

Jihoon turns in his chair and nods. “Yeah. I need a second set of ears on this song. Bumzu hyung and Soonyoung are busy.”

Seungcheol nods and falls into the seat next to Jihoon. He notices the book on the desk. It’s been sitting there for a while. “You finish it?”

Jihoon glances at the book. “Oh.” Then, he resumes clicking through the excessive number of files open on his screen. “Yeah.”

And you haven’t returned it?”

“She reads it when she comes over.” Jihoon hands over the headphones and finally catches Seungcheol’s expression. “What? Is there some big meaning behind that too?”

Ever since he started dating, Seungcheol, Jeonghan, and basically everyone in the building has found various meanings in his songs and life that allude to how ‘in love’ he is. He’s not about to tell everyone he’s in love—she doesn’t even know that yet—but not everything going on is about his relationship.

Seungcheol shrugs as he adjusts the headphones on his ears. “You seem to think there isn’t.”

“God.” Jihoon sighs and turns in his chair. He drops his cheek into his palm. “Enlighten me.”

“She’s a big reader and doesn’t like to leave books unfinished. If she’s letting you hold onto it for her, for when she comes over here, that says something.”

“So does leaving my daughter in her care, but we all have something we need taken care of.” He turns back to the screen. “Now, listen to this hook for me.”

Seungcheol settles back into the seat. He bops his head along to the melody until the lyrics play clear in his ears. Wide eyed, he turns to Jihoon and pushes one headphone off his ear. “We’re not putting this on the album, are we?”

Jihoon looks over at him with an eyebrow lifted. “Why not?”

“This is such a… a bedroom… sex song.” Seungcheol shakes his head. “We can’t put this on there.”

Jihoon frowns. “What?” He looks at the file name and feels his cheeks heat up. “Whoa. Not that one.” He quickly closes the file and makes sure that it’s closed. But his checking gives Seungcheol time to see a folder with her name. There’s one for Eunha that none of the boys want to ask about, but his girlfriend? She’s fair game.

“You have a folder of songs for her?” He acts horrified. “And that was one of them?”

Jihoon tries to think of any way out of this conversation and realizes that due to his carelessness, he can’t. “Yeah. I guess I do.”

“How many songs are in there? Do they all sound like that?”

“I refuse to answer those questions knowing that everyone is going to know by tomorrow and it’s already embarrassing that you know about one of them.”

“Hey.” Seungcheol’s voice goes soft. He likes to tease, but he recognizes touchy subjects when he broaches them. “Sorry. I didn’t realize. You know you can talk to me, right?”

Jihoon side eyes him. “I don’t want to admit how I feel about her to you when she hasn’t even heard all the songs on there.”

“What’s the folder for?”

“Just… inspiration.” Jihoon leans back further in his chair. “The songs on the upcoming album have come out of there. At least the less… perverted ones did.”

“There are other songs like that.” Seungcheol tries not to sound too surprised.

Jihoon’s cheeks are so warm that he takes a sip of his iced coffee. “Lately… yeah.”

“Have you…” Seungcheol shakes his head. “No. How could you? You always come home for Eunha.”

At this, Jihoon looks at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well… just that if you guys were having sex, you wouldn’t come straight home to your daughter, would you? Not when all of us would know.” Seungcheol narrows his eyes. “Right?”

Jihoon doesn’t even know how to respond to that except with the truth. “Fine. No. We haven’t yet.”

“Because of her or because of you.”

“Things are going slow. I don’t know… how to broach the topic.”

“Why can’t showing up to her door with passionate kisses be enough?”

“And what? Leave Eunha with you guys overnight?”

“Yeah, why not?”

So, Jihoon does just that and it turns out so much better than he expected.

“Why does this shirt,” he mutters between kisses, “have so many buttons?”

She giggles against his lips and steadies his hands in hers. “You’re excited. Like a child. Calm down.”

Jihoon hums, obsessed with the taste of her lips and her hands around his. She guides him through the motion of unbuttoning her shirt. Once they’re undone, he pulls away slightly. She tips her head. Jihoon is gentle with her shirt, sliding it off her shoulders. Her eyes watch him the entire time, watch him admire her body as the fabric falls to the floor. His hands start from the sides of her thighs up her body, skimming over her underwear, and holding her under the arms, hands right by her breasts.

“You’re really gonna tease,” she chuckles. She closes the distance between them, kissing him and fumbling with his shirt. His shirt is easy, his sweatpants he practically steps out of. It’s once they’re both just standing in their underwear that she stops him.

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

Jihoon kisses her shoulder and up her neck to the base of her jaw. “Why would I want to stop?”

“Eunha?” she hums. The child’s face is prominent in her mind, but becomes hazy every time Jihoon sucks a spot on her neck.

“She adores you. Which gives me permission to also adore you.”

She smirks, arms wrapping around Jihoon’s neck to force him back to her lips. “I’m glad I pass the test.”

Jihoon scoops her up and carries her to the couch. She gasps in surprise, which forces him away again. Spread along the couch are a lot of her art supplies. When she turns back to him, there’s a grin on her face.

“I wasn’t expecting you to jump me tonight. I was planning to paint, so…”

“Do you want to clean first?” he chuckles.

She shrugs.

Jihoon snorts and picks her shirt up off the floor and hands it to her. As much as he wants to sleep with her, it seems tonight may not be the night. He finds his sweatpants and pulls them on then helps her move her art stuff. He sits on the coffee table while she manoeuvres her piece from the floor to the desk.

“Do you want to paint?” he asks.

She shakes her head. “I want to spend time with you.” She moves some stuff to make space for her piece.

“Do you want to teach me to paint?”

She peers over her shoulder at him. “Really?”

“Well, I’m impossible to teach, but I don’t want to leave yet.” Jihoon glances at her bare torso, as she hasn’t bothered to button the top. “And I like the view.”

She rolls her eyes, an amused smile on her face. “Are idols allowed to say stuff like that?”

Jihoon looks around her home. “Unless you have a listening device and turn me in, I’m confident to say how I feel about you.”

A smile blooms on her face at hearing that. She pulls one of her watercolour pads off the desk and motions for him to join her on the floor. She flips past the first two pages, but Jihoon still catches glimpses of them.

He grabs her wrist to stop her. “Were those of Eunha and me?”

“Oh.” She tilts her head and flips back. “Yeah.” The first page is from the night he had come over to learn to cook. The second was their first date.

Jihoon looks to her expectantly and she can only shrug.

“I draw what I like.”

Jihoon doesn’t know why he finds that embarrassing, but his ears feel warm.

She tips her head back in a laugh. “Of everything that’s happened tonight, Jihoonie, I don’t think you need to be embarrassed to hear that I like you.” She returns to the one with Eunha on it and pulls the sheet. “I wanted to give it to you, but I thought maybe it would be creepy if you knew I was painting you and your daughter from memory.”

Jihoon stares at the paintings. He can see Eunha’s expression in them; how happy she had been with the meal and the dessert. If this is what he’d look like that night, he had been extremely relaxed. His finger traces over the skin, amazed at how seamless it appears.

When his eyes lift to meet hers, she seems surprised to see tears.

“What’s wrong?”

Jihoon shakes his head. “Nothing.”

She slides closer to him and her thumb brushes his tears away. “You’re crying.”

Jihoon sighs and his head tips back, as he tries to keep the tears in. “I… it’s just that…” Jihoon’s gaze rests on her again. “No one else has seen Eunha like this. The members do, but they helped me raise her. Which is why sometimes she’s an absolute menace.”

She smiles.

“But…” Jihoon studies the painting, at his baby so beautifully depicted. “I don’t know. This kind of reminds me that maybe I’m doing okay if she looks like this.”

“Jihoon, you’re doing great. She’s happy and she loves you.”

“Sometimes I feel like I’m failing her all the time, and…” The tears appear again. “And I feel like I lost some of who I am, because I had her.”

She eases the sheet of paper out of his hands. Jihoon uncrosses his legs so she can move between them, draping her legs over his thighs. Her hands plant on the floor between them as she leans forward to press kisses to his face. His eyes close at the sensation. “Jihoon, she is all you. Your music is who you are. You live and breathe Seventeen. Just because you became a father doesn’t mean you lost any piece of the Jihoon that was there before she existed.”

Jihoon lifts a hand to the back of her neck to pull her closer. Painting is put on the back burner, as they get lost in the feeling of kissing each other. Jihoon’s legs curl behind her to prevent her from moving away. His free hand slips inside her shirt and finds home on her hip. His thumb moves back and forth across the skin there.

Meanwhile, her hands have pulled him as close she can get him, her fingers tangling in his hair. When she gives the hair at the base of his neck a small tug, he groans. This lets her slip her tongue into his mouth. He tastes like her coffee, unsurprisingly enough. And she has to admit, it tastes better on his tongue than in the cup.

She can feel his growing hard on through his sweatpants. When she pulls away to breathe, she asks, “So we’re not painting then?”

Jihoon hums something incoherent, because she latches her lips against his neck.

“Wait,” he breathes.

She slows her assault on his neck, but doesn’t stop.

“No hickies.”

“Simple enough,” she breathes against his skin.

Jihoon finds himself falling back onto the floor as her kisses trail all over his body. Her hands explore every muscle and memorize them. Jihoon enjoys the treatment, his eyes closing while he lets his other sense take over. She wiggles him out of his sweatpants again and then returns to his lips.

“Bed?” She adjusts her body over his, putting pressure against him, which makes it impossible for him to reply.

Jihoon looks up at her and his eyes are dark, pupils blown wide. She sucks a spot on the soft skin near his jaw, but stops before it can leave a mark. He manages to roll them over.

“You’re making it really hard to think.”

She slides a leg between his, which seems just enough friction for him to grimace. “You’re thinking with something else.”

“Where’s your bed?”

Her eyes dart to her left. He helps her to standing and then lifts her. Her legs wrap around his waist. If there had been other objects in the way, he would have knocked into all of them, because she starts kissing him again. And it seems like his brain shuts off as soon as she does that. He presses her against her bedroom wall and when he ruts against her, her breath catches.

“So, you are needy.”

“Lee Jihoon, you are literally between my legs,” she manages between kisses. “Yes, I’m needy.”

Jihoon pulls away for a moment. “But you’ve seemed so calm and collected tonight.”

She rolls her eyes and gently kisses his cheeks before saying, “If I was ready to pounce on you when you walked in here, would you have wanted to fuck me?”

Jihoon jumps at the blatant term, but he pivots so that he can lay her on the bed. One of his hand sneaks between her legs, his other arm propping his body over hers, and drags his fingers over the fabric. When she squirms beneath his touch, he says, “Maybe not. But… I’ve wanted this a while.” He meets her gaze. “So I don’t think too much have scared me away tonight.”

Her head tilts back as he begins to rub his fingers in circles. He watches her carefully.

“Stop staring,” her breath hitches, “and kiss me.”

Jihoon smirks. “Make me.”

She snakes a hand behind his head to pull him down towards her. Her kisses stutter depending on the speed of his fingers. His kisses trail down to her neck and nibbles the soft skin on her collar bone. She presses her hands into his shoulders to try to keep her bearings. When he kisses back up her neck and sucks the soft spot of her jaw and she moans something beautiful, he knows that’s a sound he’s going to have in his mind long after this is over.

He slows his fingers down. “How close are you?”

Her breath is heavy; she can’t even answer him. Her rut up into his hand is good indication though.

Two of her orgasms and one of his later, he returns from the bathroom with a washcloth and gently cleans her off. Then he lies on top of her again, her hands go to massage his temples.

“So, you’re going to tell your daughter we… coloured when you came over today?” she teases.

Jihoon rests his cheek against her chest, listening to her heartbeat slowing down after the exertion. “I told her she was staying with the members because I was coming over here for a play date.”

She laughs. “I mean, you’re not wrong.”

Jihoon can’t help but smile as he falls asleep.

[scandeniall]

good & the bad [11/12]

| song 11: the good & the bad | good & bad masterlist | prev | next 

pairing: osamu x reader

summary/warnings:  Hang on to the moments when you're flying, he moments when you're crying. Hang on to the ones that hold you down./ straight up manga spoilers lol

wc: 1868

“Samu,” his name comes out barely above a whisper as you enter the dimly lit room shutting the door behind you. “Atsumu let me in. He said you haven’t come out at all today.” You softly say as you make your way deeper into his room, until you're standing at the space next to his desk where he’d been hunched over for the majority of the day. He still hadn’t said anything as you eye the content covering the surface. Lots of numbers. You notice the way he relaxes just the tiniest bit as you rest your hand on his shoulder. “You ok?”

“No.” The shortness of the answer doesn’t come as a surprise given, what’d he’d most likely been working on. You only nod, noticing the way he slides his chair back enough so that you could seat yourself sideways on his lap. “More shop plans?” Your question is only met with a nod. 

You remember when you met the twin. It had been during his second and your first year of university. The two of you crossing paths by mere chance. Essentially being in the right place at the right time. You met at an obscure cafe that you both tended to frequent, just never at the same time. It had been a place that had such few customers, that everyone wondered how it was still in business. However, it’d had the best damn yakitori you’d ever had. It had actually been one of the waitresses who introduced you two. Saying you were the only two people who ever ordered it from there, and that if it wasn’t for you two they’d considered taking it off the menu.

From there the friendship and eventual relationship blossomed. You found out he was in school for culinary arts, with a minor in business in hopes of opening his own food shop, eventually settling on Onigiri. That had been two years ago, and as a recent graduate he was ready to get it up and running. A process that proved to be a difficult one, causing his current stress. 

“I’ve been running these numbers and looking for suppliers all day. Kita said he can help with rice, but there's still fillings, and seaweed, and packaging. And now theres a problem with my location and actually pay for workers if I’m struggling now—fuck. Maybe I should have gone pro with Tsumu.”

He let out more than he’d initially intended and he blames the feel of your fingers massaging his scalp for the word vomit. It feels much better than the tugging he’d done at his scalp as he eyed the dizzying numbers for the millionth time. “Hey. Don’t say that. You know you wouldn’t have been happy doing that.” His gaze shifts from you to the papers covering his desk as you continue talking. “Besides, who the hell said opening a business was easy. If it were, everyone would be doing it-”

“Well it's obviously not,” your hand goes to clamp around his mouth so he wouldn’t interrupt again. “As I was saying. It's not easy, but you’re doing it. And in 80 years when you end up as the happier twin it’ll all be worth it. I know it’s stressful now, but that’s where your superhero volleyball strength should kick in. The same mental strength I’m sure it takes to get through games, physically pushing yourself past your limits is what you need now. It’s The mental strength to see this through Samu. You’ve got it, so just hang in there through the good and the bad.” The quietest of sniffles causes you to let out a laugh. “Wait are you actually crying right now at my stupid speech.”

Your boyfriend’s hands go to try and fail to push you off as you continue laughing. “It’s the hunger. I haven't eaten in hours,” Osamu counters as you roll your eyes. “Yeah, Alright. Come on let’s go get something. My treat tonight.” Hands tighten around your waist as you lean down to press your lips to meet his. The kiss is soft, lips ghosting against one another as you fight yourself smiling. Before you could push it further he pulls away a lazy smile on his face. “You said you were gonna treat me to dinner.”

Your annoyed groan does nothing but amuse him, but as you go to get up you find that his hands don’t loosen. “For someone who wants food you don’t seem to be making the effort to let me go.” Osamu only shrugs. “Thank you. For having my back.”

“Just remember, hang through the good and the bad. And stop being afraid to ask for my help. I’m here, always.”

——

‘I’m outside,’ your eyes gloss over the text before you start packing your backpack. Bidding your friends goodbye you quickly make your way down the steps of your school’s library before slipping into Osamu’s passenger seat. You eagerly accept the quick kiss he offers in greeting. 

“So you think this is the place?” 

“Hopefully. I’m ready to sign a lease already.” You nod humming along to the radio. Right now he was going to take a last look at the potential shop location before hopefully signing for it. You’d offered to go with him since you didn’t have any late classes for the day. Ever since your conversation a month ago he’d been just the slightest bit more accepting of help from others. 

“Oh, my friend gave me some of the logo drafts today. They look pretty good, you might have a winner there.” His hand goes to gently squeeze the skin of your thigh in appreciation. You had a friend majoring in graphic design who was more than willing to gain experience designing a logo for a business. Osamu was grateful for it. That was one last thing he had to worry about. 

“When i decided to do this, I thought i'd be on my own. According to so many people I was letting my talent go to waste going into food instead of sports.” This time your hand goes to offer him a comforting squeeze. “But— I’m thankful. For you, shitty Tsumu, Kita and everyone else helping me. But don’t ever mention that to my brother.”

You can’t help but laugh, swearing to secrecy. You remember how Osamu half told you that him and his twin got into a nasty fight about him quitting sports back in high school. It ended in them betting who would end up the happiest at the end of their life. Thankfully the two got over it as they grew into men, and now Atsumu acted as his brothers ‘official and professional taste tester.’ He’d even gotten some of his teammates to do taste tests for more opinions. 

—-

6 years later

“Thank you for all being here. I wanted to give a special thank you to the person who has held me down and kept me sane from the beginning. At least for the most part, sometimes they’re annoying.” Your jaw drops in a mix of amusement and shock at Osamu’s words. The mid size crowd around you laughs, even more as you go to push the man who doesn’t even falter. 

“The first Onigiri Miya shop opened 6 years ago. And today we’re here to celebrate the grand opening of the largest branch yet here in Tokyo. Thank you for being here, and enjoy.” Osamu quickly bows before cutting the ribbon open to the new shop and allowing people inside. 

As the last person trickles inside your left outside with your boyfriend and his twin, who was looking at you weirdly. He had a stupid smile in his face that seemed unusually genuine. “Would you stop looking at me like a weirdo. Let’s go inside” your walk is stopped by a hand grabbing yours. Your confusion is just marked by Osamu grabbing both of your hands. “Samu— what’s up?”

“This is weird. But not really,” You notice the twin starting to break his usual deadpan persona, even glancing at the blonde counterpart for a moment before taking a deep breath. A thought of what's about to go down briefly crosses your mind, but only for a point of a second, because there's no way. 

“A few years ago you told me to hang on through the good and the bad. To this day, I don’t even think you knew what you were really saying. But you said it, and I did it. I stuck through the long nights where I wanted nothing more than to pull my hair out and give up. At the beginning when everything was going to shit. When I was spending more to run the shop than I was making. When my first shop caught fire and nearly burned to the ground-”

“All about you huh. Way to be self centered Samu,” both of you shot a glare at the blonde. Osamu for the interruption, and you for- well you didn’t even know. You only bit back that maybe he was learning from him, causing a smile to tug at Osamu’s face.

“Anyways- but I also stuck through with the good. From getting enough money saved to open a shop, getting approved for the starter loan, to finding the best vendors and having the chance to sell and grow at professional games. Then I opened up my second, and third and now fifth branch.” You can’t help but smile at the memory as you nod.

“I couldn’t have done it without you. Your love, kindness, and everything that makes you, you. You hung in there with me as you went through your own life. You graduated, started working at your dream company, and started working your way up. All this while supporting me endlessly. You even went as far as putting money down for me, and working at the shop for free. You were there through every step of the way. 

You always told me to feel and don’t be afraid to ask for help, but the help you gave and continue to give is more than anyone could have ever asked for. During one of our midnight talks, you told me to hang on and love the ones who continue to keep me ground. You’re one of those people. The name of the shop. Onigiri Miya always had a nice ring to it.” Your eyes went through several emotions: confusion, realization, and now shock, as your boyfriend took a step back now getting onto 1 knee. You almost feel like you’re going to pass out as your mind runs blank. 

“I love you a whole lot. So, (Y/N) will you make the name on the shop yours as well and marry me.” You don’t even remember the words yes coming out of your mouth or even nodding. Apparently you did because you're met with metal sliding on your finger and obnoxious hollering from a twin who you didn’t even notice was recording the entire time. Arms that circle around your waist and a failure figure hugging yours breaks you out of your state of shock.

“Here's to handling the future together. And sticking through the good and the bad.”

a/n: this series is NOT written in song order which is why the prev/next buttons dont work and wont until its applicable. This is the 3rd installment and my first time writing osamu so this shit seems mad OOC but i also dont know his character that well, but this song made me go to this idea so?????? Also reread and take a shot every time i reference the fucking title god i hate myself

[geminimoonbeamx]

Oh, Baby: Chapter One

A/N: Okay so I’ve literally had this in my drafts for the last...six months or so? And I figured I’d tweak it and edit and post it since I’ve been so AWOL on this site lately, and so that I can give you guys some new content from me.

Word Count: 3k+

Warnings: Heavy cursing. This chapter is pretty PG, talks of mental illness, unexpected pregnancy and contemplating abortion- but she doesnt go through with it. Smut to come. AND LOTS OF FLUFF TOO, I promise lol

Summary: After a drunken night, Y/N finds herself having to face the biggest decision of her life; is she ready for motherhood? And a better question, is Bucky Barnes, her long time friend and womanizer extraordinaire, ready for fatherhood? They’ll just have to go along for the ride and find out together. A Bucky Barnes x Plus Size Reader Story 

Chapter 1/6: The Baby Woe’s and Oh No’s

You knew it.

You’d known something was off, different, changed.

You sit on your toilet, your world spinning as you attempt to wrap your mind around what was going on. Everything seems sludge like, too slow and too fast and not real.

You’re definitely going into shock, you point out to yourself. The catatonic kind. You’ve been staring at the bright, sunny lemon print of the shower curtain, your eyes focused but not seeing. Your elbows rest on your knees and your hands cover the entirety of your lower face.

At least you’re not crying anymore. 

Nope, your body had moved past that-Maybe, it felt like the tears could start rolling again at anytime.

Oh god, what are you going to do?

Why, why, why?

Why you? You’d been a good person- well a decent person at least… You recycled and tipped more than twenty percent. Didnt vote for Trump and ate your vegetables.

And your life was just seeming to even out. You’d somehow landed your dream job a couple months back- every Wednesday night your voice could be heard on WNEX. You we’re making enough money to finally be comfortable- doing what you loved. Gaining a wide audience and wiggling your way into the industry. Your mind was so career oriented, so focused on your end goal that you’d never even considered something like this.

Throwing a big fat wrench in the gears.

One night, it had only been one stupid, drunken night. Hadn't you racked up enough karma coins to cover your ass for one fucking night?

Are you there god? It’s me, Y/N, and I really fucked up this time.

Wanda comes back into the tiled room a few minutes, her dark features soft and a colorful mug in her hand.

“Are you okay?” She gauges, gently, as she reaches out to you.

You snort and shrug, but accept the steaming cup from her anyway. You look down at the swirling, murky drink.

Wishing for just one moment that you could drown yourself in it.

“Look, babe, I know you’re dealing with some major shock right now- but maybe you should go lay down. We’ll figure it out later-” Wanda’s voice is even and you appreciate her being so calm and sure during all of this but you just can't process the situation enough to accept it.

You can't go lay down.

“Why not?” Wanda questions and you didn't realize you’d said that out loud, you hadn't even felt your mouth form the words.

Your head really is swimming. Disconnected from your body a little bit. You force yourself to take a drink of the tea as she gives you a more pointed look.

“Because I have to- I don't know. I have to figure all this out” You protest. You can't hear your voice, how spiked with anxiousness it is.

“There’s not much to figure out” Wanda supplies, unhelpfully as she leans against the counter, arms folded over her chest and you give her a look that’s half between a glare and a gape.

“Um, what the fuck do you mean? There’s so much to figure out, I don't even know where to start” You give a short, sharp, slightly hysterical laugh gripping the mug hard enough to hurt with one hand while cupping your forehead with the other.

“Okay, first things first. And this is the big one: do you want this?”

Well, that whole ‘I'm done crying’ thought you’d had before was a lie. You feel the tears well up once more and overflow, spill down your already swollen cheeks. Your face is hot. Your tummy is full of rocks.

You’d always hated crying. It never made you feel released or freed or lighter like it did for other people. It made you feel icky and stupid. And afterwards it always felt like you’d gotten punched in the nose.

Yes, you did have a therapist to work out those issues with, thanks.

Your mind doesn't know what to do with that question.

You look at Wanda, searching her face as though she might have the answers but she just shook her head and reached out her hand to rub your shoulder. That’s all she could offer. Her support in whatever path you we’re about to embark on.

And then you look down, at the countertop. That was usually littered with stray tubes of mascara or straightening irons. Bobby pins and half lit candles. All the things that resided in the bathrooms of girls in their mid twenties.

In place of those was now four pregnancy tests. All of which read positive.

The first two had been those double lined ones. Two bold lines- both times. Then you’d ran down to the bodega at the end of the block and gotten two more. And those we’re more straight to the point. They literally read the word pregnant- in a font that you don't think you’d ever forget.

Did you want this? Did you want a baby?

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“I dont know- I’m not ready. The timing is all wrong” You croak.

“Okay” Wanda coo’s “well there's alternatives then-” you squeeze your eyes closed at that thought “Either way we should make a doctors appointment to make sure you’re actually pregnant. I’ve read so many stories about how unreliable these things are”

She holds up one of the tests and rambles on about all of the online articles she’d come across. How some woman had taken a dozen of ‘em, gotten all positive results and then went in and had an empty uterus.

“For one, ew. I peed on that” You nod your head at the test in her hand and she rolls her eyes.

“Other side of it- and I held your hair when you got food poisoning from that shrimp shack. I’ve come into contact with worse body fluids of yours”

“For two- I’m pregnant. I know it. I’ve known it for weeks. I knew something was wrong and I just tried to...think it away, you know? Out of sight, out of mind? I sound insane” saying the words out loud makes you realize how...ludicrous those thoughts had been. But still. It was the truth.

She just nods though “You don't”

There’s a moment of silence. Stretching, as you stew in your reality.

“I’d be doing it alone” you whisper into the mug as you sip on it “I really dont think he’d want a baby”

“You would never be alone, you know that. You have so many people in your life that would support you with this” Wanda protests, sad that you’d even say that.

“You know what I mean” You push on. Because having a good group of friends and family wouldn't change the fact that you were possibly looking at the possibility of being a single mother.

If you decided to keep it, that is.

“Yeah I do- and I don't know if I agree with that. Bucky's a lot of things, an arrogant asshole at that top of that list, but he’s a good guy and I think he’d want to be involved. He doesn't give off deadbeat dad vibes”

All of that was true. Bucky is a good guy, at the core of him.

He was kind and decent and the two of you had been friends for years upon years. He was charming, magnetic and women loved him- you’d found it amusing, before you we’re the one in his bed after a drunken night a month ago.

He’d left your messages mostly on seen since then. You’d only sent a few, but still that had stung. Him icing you out the moment he’d gotten into your pants pissed you off, not only because it was rude but because it was expected.

You knew how Bucky was with women, it had been such an idiot move to sleep with him.

It made it all the more complicated that you ran in the same social circles- had all the same friends. Sam’s small promotion dinner a couple weeks ago had been extremely awkward for you, to say the least.

He’d earned himself the cold shoulder from you and no matter how many times he’d try to broach a conversation with you, crack a joke in your direction, or single you out in a group conversation you pretended he didn't exist.

“Damn, re-jec-ted” It had been so obvious that Clint had of course pointed it out, which was uncomfortable but expected because Clint had no filter like that.

Bucky had stopped trying after that- and started flirting back with the waitress that had been throwing herself at him throughout the night. You cut out early, claiming tiredness. And upset stomach. Whatever to get you out of there.

To say it was a shitty night was a bit of an understatement and you hadn't spoken one word to him since.

“I haven't talked to him since that night- and now I’m what, supposed to call him up and tell him I’m carrying his child because he doesn't properly know how to operate a condom?

“I don't know, yeah? It doesn't mean you two need to get married, but if you choose to keep this baby, that’s going to be a conversation you’re going to have to have” Wanda is so annoying sometimes. She was such a sharp thinking human- always grounded and level headed. She claimed it was from always having to be the “good twin” growing up.

Of course she was rationalizing this whole thing while you we’re floundering about it like a fish.

“I think I should make a doctors appointment” You just mutter. You’d rather focus your attention there. It was easier, cleaner for you. A goal you could actually accomplish.

And so that’s what you did.

//////

They were able to get you in at the end of the week, which in overpopulated New York City was a godsend. And still, it felt like far too long. Like the reality of it couldn't sink in until you talked to a medical professional so you we’re left in some kind of fucked up long until then.

You tried to keep your anxious mind busy, throwing yourself into work. Talking to people over the static airways of the radio about their lives; about the world and all of its workings was so much easier than talking to anyone about what was going on with you.

The only person who knew was Wanda and you’d canceled all of your other plans during the week, not able to face anyone. Not yet.

Lots of sleepless nights, staring at the ceiling. Thinking until your brain physically hurt.

And then you’d turned to you journal- maybe if you wrote everything down it would make sense. If you could see it all, inked out, you could make a decision.

Did you want this child?

Wanda had suggested making a pro’s and con’s list and while it sounded crazy and unhelpful, and you rolled your eyes at it ‘As though that will help’, you ended up doing it anyways.

You start with Cons, naturally. Always had been too damn negative.

Cons:

-I have no fucking idea how to be a mom

-Bucky???

-My job. My career. Who’s going to watch the baby while I work?

-How in the fuck am I going to financially support a baby.

-No room in the apartment/My room is fucking tiny and where will we put a baby

(Wanda said we can turn half of the living room into a playroom/makeshift nursery. How fucked up though? Not even a real nursery)

-No car? A baby on the subway? No thank you.

-Weird to explain to people even if Bucky wants to co-parent. All our friends??

-PAIN

-Pregnancy looks so painful. Birth looks scary. My poor vagine.

-Life is basically over

-The baby will not have a grandmother from your side...

You could keep going on, but you decide to stop there. You could go on, make the list pages and pages long but you decide against it.

Pros:

-I’ve always wanted to be a mom. Always dreamed of babies and motherhood, baby fever crashes over me in waves.

-Me and Bucky’s baby is going to be cute AF(and that just pure facts)

-I have a great support system- amazing friends and family who I know will help

-Bucky could want to be involved. He probably will...maybe?

-He has a big family, i think. The baby would have lots of family

-I don't want to have an abortion. All about pro-choice, but I just...don't know if I can.

That had made you bite the end of your pen.

Adoption?

Could you give a child that you went through nine months of pregnancy up for adoption? Knowing yourself- probably not. You cant even get rid of the moth hole ridden clothes at the back of your closet. Not comparing a baby to a jean jacket- fuck, see how unequipped you were for this?

-I’d be a good mom(I think)

-I could swing it financially. Maybe get a second job

-At least I have a good insurance plan now

-My life might have more of a purpose?

You hide the lists away in one of your many journals. Stick it in the wicker basket under your night stand- and revisit it too many times in those days between.

You make a lot of other lists in that time, too. 

//////

One of them sits tucked in your purse as you make your way to the eighth floor- Arms folded across your chest and the inside of your bottom lip speared between your teeth as the elevator takes you up.

Wanda stands beside you, of course. Sipping on her iced americano. You’d tried to tell her that she didn't need to come, that you were perfectly okay with going on your own. You’d gotten about two words out before she shut you down-

“I already took the afternoon off, don't be ridiculous”

You both know you wouldn't admit it, stubborn as you we’re, but you’d let out a big sigh of relief. You really didn't want to do this alone.

The waiting room is standard for this building, looks similar to the one that you sit in when you see your GP- save for a sign hanging about the door that labels it the OB-GYN.

Fake plants and those standard waiting room chairs that had that weird diagonal print on them TV’s that we’re playing the local news and tables stacked with months dated magazines. There was no windows though and it made the back of your neck feel hot.

The receptionists is nice. Middle aged with mild with droning, mellow voice. She checks you in fast and efficiently and tells you that you’ve got about a 15 minute wait on your hands.

Annoying, you think even though you give her a big grin and a sweet ‘thank you’. You’d been right on time. Why in all offices of all kinds is there always a fucking wait?

Wanda has plopped down on a chair in the corner and is fingering through an issue of LIFE, her long legs crossed at the knee. you sit next to her. The office air conditioner is blasting, it had been a muggy May in the city, but you feel overheated. You let the chunky cardigan you’d donned slip down one shoulder, exposing your skin to the chilly air.

You should feel the cold but you’re over heated. Nervous as hell. Why doesnt anyone else in this office seem nervous?

You tend to people watch when you get overly anxious like you are now. Tend to take in every little detail of every little thing around you.

There’s a black couple- the woman doesn't look pregnant but they’re holding hands tightly and they keep whispering to each other. He smiles and nudges her shoulder with his. Then there’s a Latina woman who looks just about ready to pop and is reading one of the kids book to a little boy with her eyes. A white lady, with twin carriers rocks them gently as she chats with a woman who looked to be related to her, maybe. Older and graying.

You feel like a creep but you can't stop looking at them all. Staring at each of the people who are at different stages of the same  life-path you found yourself on.

Wanda clicks her tongue as her dark eyes focus on the magazine. Muttering, her accent thick, about how the lenses they used for the shoot on the page was all wrong.

Her photographers eye was snobby and elitist.

“Y/N?” The nurse calls you back, not butchering your name which is nice and look over at your best friend.

“Are you sure you don't want me to come back with you?” Wanda whispers, big gingerbread eyes searching yours and you shake your head quickly.

You had to do this, on your own. What if...what if you ended up having to do this whole thing alone? You had to be grown, had to face this solo. That’s just how you felt, even if it might not be true.

“It’s just another appointment- I can do it on my own. I’ll live” there's a reasoning lilt in your voice that she doesn't quite buy but she nods all the same. Tells you that she’ll be waiting right there for you as you muster up all your courage and train your face into a smile, following the nurse into the back offices, the door mechanically closing behind the two of you.

The OB’s office is...warmer then you’d thought it would be. Her desk has frames of all types and her walls are plastered with colorful posters, making the alabaster of the wallpaper less daunting. There was even a window in here.

You’re perched up on the exam table/ chair thingy, staring out at the tall buildings across the street, at the people moving fast below on the sidewalks. You wonder what all of them are doing? How many of the have kids?...

When there’s a soft knock at the door your attention snaps back to the present.

Doctor Helen Cho is a petite Asian woman. She has glossy dark hair that's tied up in a clip high on the  back of her head, and her voice is friendly and her expression open as introduces herself to you and reaches out to shake your hand.

“I’m Y/N, it’s nice to meet you, too” You sound so much surer and more confident then you feel. It had always been your party trick- meeting new people and being able to talk to them. Leaving trails of barley there acquaintances in your wake.

“So it says here that you think you’re pregnant, yes?” She gets right to it, and your appreciative for it.

“Yeah, I know I am.  I took four tests and they all came out positive and I...I feel really off” you try to explain it, poorly but she seems to understand.

“When you say off, do you mean like bad feeling off or?” She probes as she sits at her desk, swivels her chair to face you. Her chocolate almond eyes weren't piercing or clinical, just waiting.

“Not really bad? But I’ve just been so tired lately and I’ve had like, zero appetite. And my breasts have been so sensitive that it hurts to put on a bra” as you tell here these things you could slap your head for not assuming you were pregnant before you’d taken the tests.

Dr. Cho hums and nods as she looks over her tablet “Well from the look of these results from those blood and urine tests your nurse went ahead and gave you when you came in, I can tell you that you are definitely about nine weeks pregnant- so those symptoms are right on with where you are”

You inhale and exhale, bigly. It’s real. It’s been real, was a notion, a happening but now...it’s so freaking real.

And there's a real life changing decision to be made-

That you’d already made before you’d even walked into this office but now seemed even clearer. Crystal, in that moment of clarity.

“I want to keep it” Your confident as you say it. Your voice cracks with some kind of emotion you couldn't even begin to explain, but you’re confident. You’re sure.

Dr. Cho grins at you, and stands, congratulating you then, after she’s sure you even want a congratulations. You like her, think you might.

It’s hard to focus on her voice though because all your mind can think of is the next big obstacle, the next big step in all of this.

How were you going to tell Bucky?

Okay guys? I posted? Crazy right? lol give me some feedback! Comment and tell me what you thought of this. I absolutely love interacting with you guys, but I’m sure ya’ll know that. 

Also- the taglist for this story is still OPEN, so if you’d like to be tagged in future chapters just ask!

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