#one cute baby and one colour morph!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

winterarmyy · 8 months ago

Text

Baby, Fever & Cuddles

Glimpses of the grumpy chubby alpha!bucky's love life.

Summary: When Y/N unexpectedly cancelled their date plan, Bucky’s troubled mind seemed to jump right into the worst case scenario, but the reality was not quite what he thought.

Navigation: Prequel || Main Story I || Main Story II || Main Story III

Pairing: chubby alpha!bucky x omega!female!reader

Words: 3.5k++

Warnings: a/b/o dynamics. fluffy and soft feels with our chubby!alpha!bucky.

P/S: My writing is quite rusty after months of not utilizing it, so forgive me for that. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy this short fic and happy reading! 🤍

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Bucky has been staring, or more accurately, glaring at the reflection of himself for far too long now. Completely distracted with the image on the mirror, he did not notice how his well-made bed is now crowded with piles of his clothing items.

Hoodies, jeans, dress-shirts and even the dinner suit that he got last year; they were all mixed up in an untamed way. He might need a couple of hours to re-organize those but it does not matter right now.

What matters is what should he wear for his second date with y/n? So far everything he tried on was either too fancy or too tacky. “For fuck’s sake, it’s just a coffee date. Just pick one and go, Jesus.” Bucky’s inner Alpha has been nagging him to get this over with, because he’s going to be late to the date, especially if he plans to pick-up a bouquet for her.

Now standing in his red Henley, which he deemed was appropriate, he could not look past the soft bulge on his stomach. The bright colour of the fabric did nothing to hide the unflattering shape of his belly. He twisted his body to the side and unintentionally grimaced at the sight.

Bucky instinctively sucked in a deep breath, trying to hide the extra fat of his body; giving a glance of the shadow of his past self when he was but a man with a well-built body.

Bucky sighed out the breath that held, and his belly naturally morphed into the original shape. He really can’t hide his imperfections; not his belly nor his prosthetic arm. As he stares at the source of his insecurities, he remembered the night of his first date with her;

"Because Bucky, you are as lovable as a person can be." She placed his palm on either side of her cheeks, purring as the sensation on skin felt so right, "And I am absolutely honoured and proud to be standing here with an alpha like you." She smiled like she was the happiest omega on earth.

His cheeks heats into shades of red and pink as the memories remind him of her; the softness of her skin against his palms, that cute little purr she made and her sweet scent that he was already addicted to.

Before the blood managed to rush further down to his spine, he shook off the unholy thoughts produced by inner alpha. Bucky glanced at the mess on his bed from the reflection of the mirror and let out a sigh before glaring at himself, “What are you so afraid of?”.

Now that he was standing in front of her apartment, Bucky suddenly remembered why.

His heart pounds, his palms were sweating within his leather gloves, his fingers fiddled with the delicate material of the bouquet wrappings. The second date is different compared to the first; there’s more expectation, which means there might be more disappointment awaits.

Not that he would be displeased with y/n but he is afraid that she will be with him. A few sweet words that she spoke on their first date might work to calm him down at the moment, but it is not enough to make his years worth of insecurity disappear completely.

Bucky gulped nervously as he lifted his hand towards the door; he knew that he was quite early from the promised time, but he couldn’t help it. As much as he is afraid of what will come, he was as excited to see her again. She had been occupying his mind like no other; he misses her. A lot.

When he was about to knock on the door, his phone rang. Slipping it out of his pocket, his phone almost fell from his hands, when he read the name on the caller’s placeholder. Y/N. He took a deep breath and slid the icon across the screen, “Hello. Hi” Bucky’s tongue was already tied with just two words out.

“Hi, Bucky.” she greeted with softly. That alone was enough make his heart skipped a beat. “Hi, y/n.” Bucky could not control the dreamy undertone in his voice, if only she could see the soft haze in his gaze, “What’s up?”

“Really, Bucky? ‘What’s up’?” he mentally scolded himself for this choice of words. A brief silence followed his question. “Was that… hesitation?” a thought popped at the back of his head. “Ummm, listen, Bucky…” her voice dripped with uncertainty.

Bucky’s fist around the stem of the bouquet got a little tighter when she continued, “..I’m sorry. But, I think we should cancel our plans today. Umm, some, uh, something came up and I think I can’t make it...” Her cryptic reasons were just a buzzing sound in his ear now.

What was he expecting? That this time it’ll be different? He’s finally gonna have the happy ending he deserves? No. Of course, not.

“What was I thinking?” Bucky’s head slightly lean forward as he try to recollect himself, “I understand.” He replied. y/n quickly apologised for her sudden decision but Bucky was not really listening.

He was just trying to clear out the dark clouds in head by leaning his head to the apartment door. But when his hand was trying to support his weight against the wall, he accidentally pressed the doorbell.

“Shit!” he cursed under his breath. Panic arose when y/n asked if he could hold for a minute while she get the door. “No wait! y/n don--”, a few milliseconds later, the door was wide open, revealing the omega who's been occupying his mind for weeks.

“Bucky?” Her eyes widened; shocked at first but morphed into a pleasant smile. “You’re here?” she was awfully in glee to see the alpha, especially when she saw the pretty bouquet of carnations in his hand. But the joy only lasted for a short moment, until she realised, “Don’t tell me you were already here when I called you…” a soft gasp came from the smaller, her eyes glistening with guilt.

Bucky thought that there’s no way to go about this other than telling the truth, “Yeah. I’m sure you have a good reason to cancel our date. And since you’re here, umm, here.” hands trembling, he extended the bouquet towards her, his gruff exterior softened by the shy smile on his lips, “….for you.”

y/n’s cheeks flushed with delight as she accepted the flowers, “Awww, Bucky.” She held the soft petals towards her face, inhaling the spicy clove-y scent. Reminded by the time she first met him, the corners of her lips curled upwards into a tender smile before looking up at him with a sparkle of alluring mischief in her gaze.

In that split second, something was triggered at the back of Bucky’s mind. It seemed like he had seen this view before. In fact, it is almost identical. Including this very moment, when she tiptoed upwards, her tender gesture of cupping one side his chubby cheek and her soft lips pressed on the other, "Thank you for the flowers, alpha." She whispered against his skin.

A pleasant shiver crawled all over his body, his cheeks heated up and his ears reddened. Bucky’s eyes soften into a hazy gaze that if she look closely, she might see hearts twinkling in his ocean blues.

He wanted more. More of her lips, more of her gentle touch. More of her.

When the omega looked up at him with that sweet smile on her lips, his inner alpha was ready to pounce on her and it was all from just that one innocent kiss, “You’re welcome, doll” His hand snaked around her waist, pulling her body close to his, “Glad you liked it.” He returned her kiss with his own, a gentle grab on the side of her head and a loving kiss on her cheek.

The omega purred in delight to his gesture, her hand instinctively went to grab on his shoulder; literally melting in his embrace when she lost her stance.

Good thing Bucky had his arms securely around her because if not she would’ve ended up on the floor. Bucky chuckled amusingly when he slowly led her body to lean back, almost dangling on his arm, as his kisses lingered on her jaw.

Before the sounds of their soft laughter could spread, the loud shrieking sound of a crying baby coming from y/n’s apartment startled both of them to a freeze. y/n was quick on her feet, “Oh no, Daisy.” she gasped as she broke out from Bucky’s loose grip.

“Come on in, Bucky.” she shouted when she entered the living room area. Bucky didn’t reject her offer, and stepped into the foyer. Closing the door behind him, he saw how some of her shoes were organised at the entrance; he quietly took off his shoes and slipped into one of the fuzzy guest slippers that was laid on the side.

Stepping further inside, he realised that this was his first time in y/n’s home. He felt a wave of warmth enveloped him like a comforting embrace. His eyes wandered around the corridor, noticing the photographs on the wall; each frame a snapshot of cherished moments frozen in time. Smiling faces gazed back at him, capturing the essence of love and laughter that filled the air.

As Bucky entered the living room, he was met with the sight of y/n tenderly coaxing a crying baby into calmness; swaying the little bundle to the rhythm of her quiet lullaby. His heart skipped a beat at the gentle scene, though he knew instinctively that the baby wasn't her own. Any other normal person would’ve thought the opposite. But the lack of semblance in their scent gave it away.

y/n glanced up, a mixture of apology and relief in her eyes. "This is Daisy, my next-door neighbour's baby girl," she explained, her voice soft with concern. "Her mother caught a high fever all of the sudden, and Mr.Scott is out of town for work.”

Bucky’s steps stopped when he reached by y/n’s side, “The couple is not from here. They just moved from the UK a few months ago. They don’t have any family here.” Bucky silently listened to her explanation as his eyes peered at the baby in her arms; now calmed and curious of the tall stranger next to y/n.

“I volunteered to care for her while the mother went for a checkup at the nearby medical centre." y/n explained as she softly wiped the remaining tears on Daisy's cheeks, "I'm sorry," y/n continued, her tone tinged with guilt. "I know it's selfish of me to cancel our date because of this."

Her teeth sunk into her bottom lips. “I could’ve suggested a day care or something. But instead, I took the job.” She chuckled when Daisy babbled some incoherent words.

Bucky quickly intercepted her before she could come up with other lines of unnecessary explanation. He shook his head, a gentle smile gracing his lips. "No, don't be," he reassured her, his gaze softened as the baby chortled gleefully. "I can see why it's hard to resist."

The atmosphere shifted into something else; sweet and warm until the sound of the oven timer went off. "And that would be my lunch burning," y/n remarked, relief evident in her tone. Without missing a beat, she passed Daisy into Bucky’s arms, and he instinctively cradled her close.

It was his first time holding a baby. He knows that babies are small, I mean everybody knows that. But he never realises how light they are. No wonder people say they are fragile.

When Bucky’s hand reached to touch Daisy’s cheeks, he realised that maybe handling a baby with leather gloves and jacket was probably not the best idea. He skillfully took them off while cradling the baby close to his chest.

When he was done stripping to Henley, he brought his fleshed finger and poked Daisy’s round cheek.

It's the softest thing he ever touched, he could not believe it. So, he does it again and again. Apparently it is amusing to Daisy that Bucky was playing with her cheeks, the little sweetheart squeal and chortle every time he poked his finger on her. There was no denying the fact that Bucky’s heart was tugged in several different directions whenever she shrieked in joy.

Bucky momentarily lifted his gaze and observed the chaos unfolding in the kitchen with a sense of understanding, then turned his attention back to baby Daisy, who gazed up at him with wide, adoring eyes. "How about I stay and help you babysit little Daisy?" he suggested, a warm smile playing on his lips. "Seems like you could use a helping hand."

Y/n’s eyes widened in surprise, touched by his offer. "You would do that?" she asked, her voice tinged with disbelief. "I don't see any reason not to," Bucky replied with a shrug. "We're…" his words halted when he thought about it, "…mates. No, not yet." his mind spoke. Stumbling over the word as he corrected himself. "You, You're my girl, after all."

A blush spread across y/n's cheeks at his words, butterflies fluttering in her stomach. "Plus, I think little Daisy wants me to stay," Bucky continued, “Don’t you, flower?” his smile grew as the baby chortled and gurgled in agreement.

So, both of them took the role of being temporary parents while getting to know more about each other. If Steve was there to see this scene he’d tear up from how beautiful it was. The way they naturally tend to each other’s every need and how natural their chemistry clicked.

It was so effortless, as if they were two pieces of a puzzle finally finding their perfect fit. From the moment they stepped into the cosy haven of Daisy's world, there was an unspoken understanding between them, a shared connection that transcended mere words.

And the time flows like a gentle stream, Bucky and y/n found themselves swept up in the rhythm of their newfound relationship, even in the chaos of taking care of Daisy. Hours and hours passed, and when the sun set in the horizon, they nestled on the floor, a makeshift fortress of pillows and blankets cocooned them from the harsh reality of the outside world. Daisy, the tiny bundle of joy they were entrusted to care for, lay peacefully cradled in y/n’s arms.

As Bucky watched y/n’s gently sway with Daisy, he couldn't help but marvel at the tenderness in her touch. Her eyes sparkled with maternal warmth, a sight that stirred something deep within him. He had never seen such a sight before – so serene, so utterly captivating.

Daisy, in her innocence, reached out with tiny hands, her curious gaze fixating on Bucky’s metal fingers. With a playful gleam in her eyes, she chomped down on the cold material, eliciting a surprised yelp from Bucky. y/n chuckled softly, her laughter like music to his ears.

"Looks like Daisy's taken a liking to you," y/n remarked, her voice soft and affectionate.

Bucky grinned, gently wiggling his fingers out of Daisy’s mouth. His swift movement to wipe the string of saliva from Daisy’s mouth makes it look like Bucky was an experienced father, "Seems that way. Guess I'll have to watch out for that scary toothless mouth of hers."

The moment stretched on, each passing second filled with a quiet intimacy that seemed to enveloped them in a world of their own. Y/n leaned back against a mound of pillows, Daisy nestled contentedly against her chest. Bucky lay beside them, his gaze drifting between his omega and the sleepy child cooing on her chest.

Y/n's gaze lifted, her eyes meeting Bucky’s with a soft, shy smile playing on her lips. As she nestled further into the warmth of Daisy's soft head, a gentle blush crept across her cheeks, adding a rosy hue to her already radiant complexion.

In that moment, Bucky found himself lost in thought. He couldn't shake the feeling of déjà vu that washed over him, a fleeting memory of a similar scene with another woman.

It can’t be. She was a beta and y/n is an omega. It would be impossible. But what if…

"What’s on your mind, Bucky?" she asked, her voice soft and quiet as she settled Daisy into her crib for a nap before sliding back into his arms. Bucky wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close.

"I was just thinking..." Bucky began, his voice trailing off as he searched for the right words. "Yes?" y/n's voice was a soft melody, laced with curiosity as she looked up at him. Bucky hesitated, unsure how to articulate the thoughts swirling in his mind. "Have we met before?" he finally asked, his tone tinged with uncertainty.

A playful grin danced across y/n's lips as she teased, "I don't know. Have we?"

Bucky felt a pang of surprise at her cheekiness, but he pressed on, recounting the memory of rescuing a girl from a dangerous situation in a park. "I can't help but see similarities between her and you," he admitted, his browdls furrowing with concern. "So, you think that I'm her?" y/n's tone was light, teasing, but there was a hint of something more beneath the surface.

He hesitated, grappling with the uncertainty of his own memories. "I'm not sure...I never saw her face," he confessed, his voice tinged with regret. Y/n rolled her eyes playfully, a mischievous glint in her gaze. "Took you long enough to notice," she quipped, her words laced with humour.

Shocked with the revelation, his words stumbled, "But, but she's a beta, and you're..."He trailed off, his voice trailing as he struggled to find the right words. "An omega. Always was, still am," She finished for him, a knowing smile playing on her lips.

"But your scent?" Bucky questioned, his confusion evident in his voice, “It changed?”

"Scent blockers," She explained simply, her tone softening as she reached out to brush a stray lock of hair away from his face. "It's a long story, we'll get there soon enough. But for now..." She trailed off, her gaze meeting his with a warmth that sent shivers down his spine. "How have you been, Alpha?"

Bucky felt his heartstrings pull at the affection in her words, and without hesitation, he pulled her close, burying his face in the crook of her neck as he inhaled her scent deeply. "Better. Much better, 'mega," he murmured, his voice filled with a tenderness that spoke volumes.

Bucky briefly pulled away from her, their eyes locked in a silent exchange and he felt a surge of tenderness wash over him, his heart swelling with affection for this beautiful woman who had stolen his heart. He reached out instinctively, brushing a stray lock of hair away from y/n's face, his touch as gentle as a whisper.

As Bucky leaned in closer, the soft brush of his breath against y/n's lips sent a thrill through her. His eyes, filled with a gentle intensity, held hers captive as he closed the distance between them. With a tender touch, he pressed his lips softly against hers, a delicate caress that ignited a spark between them.

In that moment, time seemed to stand still as their lips met in a sweet and innocent kiss. She felt a rush of warmth flood through her, enveloping her in a cocoon of bliss. His kiss was like a gentle breeze on a warm summer day, soft and inviting, yet undeniably electrifying.

As they melted into each other's embrace, she lost herself in the sensation of his lips against hers; his hands rubbing the naked skin underneath her shirt.

While she was floating in the clouds, Bucky was at the brink of his sanity. He wanted to make his claim on her, to have her entirely to himself. and when the kiss deepened, he couldn’t contain his needy growl. His thick thigh naturally settled in between hers, gently guiding her hips down and her heat against the layer of his jeans.

Y/n herself could feel the steady beat coming from between her thighs, she was pretty sure Bucky could feel it too. Of course he could, and he enjoyed the symphony of longing and desire that pulsed against his thigh. If she ever snuck her tiny hands on his crotch, she would know how much he enjoyed her soft lips; and her pretty princess part.

Just as things began to heat up, a soft whine emanated from Daisy's crib, breaking the spell and bringing them back to reality. They pulled away from each other with shared laughter, their cheeks flushed with embarrassment as they realised they had been caught in the act by their tiny charge.

She glanced over at Daisy with a fond smile, her heart swelling with affection for the little interrupter. "So much for a second date, huh?" she joked, her tone laced with amusement.

Bucky met her gaze with a grin of his own, his eyes twinkling with mirth. "I wouldn't want it any other way," he replied, his voice filled with sincerity; they shared a final kiss, a promise of more to come, before turning their attention back to Daisy, who had already drifted back into a peaceful slumber.

As they settled back into their makeshift nest on the floor, Bucky and y/n knew that their love story was just beginning – a tale of unexpected encounters, stolen kisses, and the sweet promise of a future together.

End.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: im in my soft feels latelyyyyy and i miss this couple 😭 anyway, i hope you enjoyed this short fic 🤍

#bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #alpha!bucky #chubby!bucky #bucky fluff

983 notes · View notes

despazito · 2 years ago

Text

From my personal experience living in Canada and spending time in Russia I wouldn't be too surprised if statistically by volume, owned dogs being kept outdoors in a yard aren't living their most fulfilling lives when compared to an indoor pet dog just because people who lead active lives with their pet dogs are more likely to also have them indoors. and I definitely see how it can be a red flag in certain situations, but in no way are outdoor dogs inherently neglected or mistreated?? Any owner of a northern breed in a snowy climate can attest to dogs loving the cold outdoors and it can be a battle to even get them inside.

I think one should keep in mind that yes LGDs are a thing and many breeds are built for life outside, but realistically i think in this discussion only a very small minority of outdoor dogs here are legitimately working dogs who work. yes watchdogs are technically working, but the sad reality I witness is a lot of people's watchdogs are just spending their lives tethered with very little to do, and their daily lives aren't really comparable to the working LGD or farm/sled dog.

But here's the thing, I think indoor pet dogs statistically aren't all living their best lives either? like I don’t think someone whose dog spends 8 hours alone in an apartment has the moral high ground to call out a dog being kept in a yard. and maybe like 15% of dog owners max should be owning dogs to begin with. Just like how children are the expected next step in having a picture perfect Hallmark life I think many people get dogs for similar reasons without actually wanting the lifestyle that dog ownership entails. Just get a stuffed animal if you only care about the optics of a cute dog.

I also think discussions of race and class are being overlooked in some regards. Now this is more from an outsider perspective looking in consuming the American experience secondhand, but I do think that the breeds of dog being kept as outdoor dogs in America (*cough* many bully types) and the people who own them (*cough* many visual minorities or lower income people) don't exist in a vacuum and i think there is some hidden racist and paternalistic elements in the way folks talk about outdoor dogs.

I don't want to compare dogs as equal to children because they are not and their needs are very different, but seeing as how many white middle class people have fully adopted dogs as surrogate replacements for children and of equal emotional status, I'm not surprised racist sentiments about "why/how many/how" poor and people of other cultures or minorities raise their kids will also morph into critiques over their pet care by those who put equal if not more value on dogs’ lives than people.

The white hegemony has shown time and time again to have an extremely paternalistic mindset that the indigenous, people of colour, and the poor just don't know how to look after their dependents and the state’s favourite solution of course is always punitive measures by means of physical removal or fines instead of material aid and community support.

If an outdoor dog is not living a good life i think it’s always best to first address the issue and try finding solutions if the owner cares, and give them support to succeed, instead of rushing in to shanghai the dog away so you can feel good about yourself for rescuing it and writing up a sob story about its past, nevermind the chances of a second-hand outdoor mutt having a happy ending once it enters the shelter system.

Some people legitimately shouldn’t have their dogs for everyone's sake, but i think we as a society are a little too trigger happy to separate dogs from owners and similarly children from parents if their skin is a certain colour or they don’t have much money.

Idk dogs are just in such a fascinating position in today's western society? They are pets and they are family. But “pets are a privilege”, and family is a right. We fully believe when people say their dog is their fur baby and their entire world, but legally they are property.

But a dog doesn't need to be treated as an anthropomorphized fur baby to live a good well cared for life, and capitalism especially wants us to believe that doing anything short of fur babying our pets is somehow bad.

Then you juxtapose that next to cultures who don't anthropomorphize their dogs to such a degree, whose lives are aesthetically perceived as sub-par from living outside, and there becomes moral outrage even if the dog is living a totally fine life with its needs met. just because it doesn't have unlimited access to the living room couch or your bed. I think the ultimate culmination of this attitude can be seen by folks decrying stuff like the Iditarod as cruel exploitation of dogs all while they spoon feed their french bulldogs recovering from IVDD or airway surgery, disorders that only exist in those dogs because we want the most babyfied looking animal possible.

I really feel like a sizeable group of western middle class pet owners and animal rights people firmly believe that in order to have a good life, an animal needs it's daily nutritional dose of this intangible yet very very specific anthropomorphic, human-grade brand of Love™. And that by not giving them this human-grade Love™ then their lives must be awful and neglected.

It's what makes them think all livestock suffers no matter their living conditions because no farmer who Loves™ their animals would ever slaughter or eat them. And it's what makes a wheezing pug, a fennec fox in an apartment, or a very lame cow strapped into a wheelchair ok. It doesn't matter what the physical quality of life is, I am showering them with Love™, and that’s what’s most important. And any person or culture who doesn’t spoil their animals with this specific brand of Love™ must be evil and uncaring. anyway that’s my unsolicited two cents.

#im not sure what point im trying to make im just musing

170 notes · View notes

cosmal · 2 years ago

Text

𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐨𝐞 — 𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐌𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

day four of my christmas drabbles advent calendar!

summary — you and eddie decorate the trailer. you’re a bit careless about it.

warnings/tags — fem!reader, she/her, bit of a clumsy!reader, eddie is a worry wart

“Jesus Christ, sweetheart, what are you doing?” You can’t see his face, but Eddie sounds like he’s about to have a heart attack.

He scrambles to stable you, hand placed at your lower back, the other curled around the hinge of your elbow.

“This tree’s really tall,” you muse, completely unperturbed with how dangerously you’re balancing on one of the only stools he has in his house. It’s wobbly, one leg shorter than the rest and you’re standing on it with one fucking foot. The other bent in the air.

“It is,” he agrees. Half panicked, because why the fuck did you not wait for him to get home, half adored, and he’s really sorry for it, because you look so cute when you’re determined. Though, he thinks he’s more worried than anything, really.

You slip the yellow star in your hand over the top branch and sigh when you can stand back down on two feet. The stool wobbles and Eddie’s hands tighten in their grip.

“Eddie,” you gasp.

His hand is pressing really firm into your arm. He curses and lets you go. “Sorry, you just really freaked me out.”

He helps you down and only returns to his normal breathing when you’re back safely on the ground. He holds you to his chest for a moment. He’s a total worry wart.

“I’m sorry for scaring you,” you say, not really sounding sorry at all. “It was supposed to be a surprise.”

Eddie smiles, teasing, “Well, considered me freaked, baby.”

You push your face into his chest as he weaves his arms around your back. The bag Eddie had dropped in a rush crinkles at his feet.

He’s hugging you because he hasn’t seen you all day. Not because the thought of you falling had actually made his heart stop for a moment. “I got you a present.”

You pull back and your mouth curls into the cutest smile, “Yeah?”

Eddie hums, bending down to pick up the plastic bag. Maverick’s Craft, in bold, green writing over the front. He reaches in and pulls out two red Christmas ornaments.

He flips them over. Gold, shimmery calligraphy shines over them. Eddie on one, Y/N on the other. You beam, he’s fucking adorable.

“I ordered them other day, and I was going to hang them up when I helped you put the tree up,” he teases again. You can’t find it in you to care, the ornaments are really pretty.

You run your fingers over the embossed writing. “I love them.”

“Yeah?” he sighs, “They’re not too cheesy? I don’t have many decorations.”

You kiss him over his fingertips where they’re holding onto his ornament. “That’s okay. I brought some stuff from home.”

Eddie looks over you shoulder, and surely, there’s bags of tinsels and baubles stacked in the corner. Eddie feels suddenly really lovesick.

“Awesome,” he grins. Cheeks warm. “You’re amazing.”

“You’ll help me set them up?” you ask.

Eddie pinches your side, “Of course.”

You and Eddie set to work. You both finish off the tree and it’s really i’ll-matched. The red and green tinsel hangs awkwardly, falling off in most places. The baubles bunched in places they don’t need to be.

Eddie, obviously, has no problems when you decorate the rest of the trailer. Ribbons of every festive colour. That is until you scale the couch to hang lights over the shelves with all of his and Wayne’s mugs. The couch wobbles and you then you wobble. Eddie’s heart jumps again.

He stables you again just before you’re about to fall. The mugs clatter. “Are you trying to kill me, baby?”

“I’m sorry,” you giggle. You’re oblivious.

“Sure.”

Eddie helps you down once you’ve hung the last set of lights. Once on the carpet, you ask, “If I did fall,” you poke him in the chest, “would you catch me or the Garfield mug first?”

He has to pretend he actually doesn’t know the answer. Your teasing face morphs into one of actual hurt. You gasp and Eddie laughs.

“I don’t know, that’s hard,” Eddie’s face is really, really smug. It makes it worse.

You walk away towards the kitchen, pretending to be actually offended. Eddie chases after you, a sappy apology at the front of his mouth. He catches you in the doorway.

“M’sorry, you. Of course, I’d catch you first,” he says softly. Flexing his fingers around your arms. “Of course, you.”

You look at him, eyes full of mirth, “Good.” They flick up to the doorway. Eddie follows and catches the mistletoe hanging above the arch. Green and a little sad.

“How did you get that up there?” he asks.

“Eddie,” you chide.

“Did you get on that stool?”

“No! Eds...”

“You did!”

You laugh, “Kiss me, you idiot.”

Eddie takes a breath, his face warms. “Right.”

“Yeah.”

Eddie kisses you. Tender and all things soft when he pushes his face into yours. He holds you close like always, kissing you like it might be the last.

You pull back and watch the Christmas lights wash him technicolour. Over his cheek and down the bridge of his nose. His eyes glow and you’re not sure how he gets prettier everyday but he does.

“Thank you for the decorations,” you tell him earnestly.

He kisses you again, “Thank you for the mistletoe.”

He really is thankful. And you know it because he finds every excuse to kiss you under the kitchen doorway for the next month.

#eddie munson #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson headcannon #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfiction

308 notes · View notes

flock-talk · 1 year ago

Note

Old anon from 3-4 months back. Was really sad about major discoloration on my green plet. Was feeding her only pellets with veggies here and there for a long period because of some personal issues... I focused on feeding her veggies daily the last 3-4 months and I'm happy to report molting is almost complete and her feathers are now shiny, glossy and green again. So happy! One of her back feathers is deep blue! That's so cute and unexpected! All green and one deep blue on a female? Hehe

Awesome!

Odd feathers like that seem to happen, I don’t know much about genetics but I would guess it has to do with people selectively breeding for specific colour morphs. If the breeder was aiming for more blue babies the “more blue” genes can pop out in offspring in weird ways. I lived with a green pacific parrotlet who had one singular bright yellow feather in the middle of her back!

Genetics are wild, I’m sure she looks cute as heck!

Also I find that the rump feathers tend to be kinda dull when they’re young, after their first adult moult a lot more of that pigment really shines through, even miss mia had quite the vibrant rump, still not as deep cobalt as males present but a lot of darker feathers for sure!

12 notes · View notes

musicfeedsmysoul12 · 2 years ago

Text

13 Days of AUs- The Sixth Day of Christmas: A Future TokoDeku AU

Summary: On the 13 days of Christmas, Music gave to me… 13 different POTSOD AUs! Each contains a different pairing and different plots but within: a collection of plot line that will appear in the main series… though have fun figuring them out! (Including a few pairings that will appear~)

ON AO3

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

A teenager sits in her room, looking down at a piece of paper. The girl has green hair and eyes and freckles covering her face. She taps a pencil o against her desk and sighs. She leans back in her seat, obviously thinking.

“Izumi?” A maternal voice asks. The door to the room opens to let in an older green-haired woman who smiles at Izumi gently. She smiles back. “I was checking to see how you’re making out,” the woman says kindly.

“Alright, mom,” Izumi says. “Just struggling with this essay. UA is supposed to be the hardest school to get into, and their prompt for this essay feels… so big and confusing.”

“You’re probably overthinking it,” Izumi’s mother informs her daughter. “I trust you’ll figure it out, but you have a tendency to assume the worst or to complicate things.”

“I know,” Izumi says. Her mother suddenly turns and laughs. “Wha-“

“Mama!” A toddler comes into the room. She wears a cute shirt with Gang Orca on it and looks a little like a patchwork doll. Her skin is two different colours, stitched together blockily, and her hair appears like ribbons, button-like eyes blinking as she walks to the teenager.

“Hi, Tomoe!” Izumi says, picking up the girl.

“Mama! Work?” The little girl asks, pointing at the paper. Izumi nods.

“I am, baby. I have to write a paper on two heroes dear to me and why. But only one can be a pro.” Izumi tells her daughter. Tomoe makes a surprised noise.

“Ah, then you are overthinking it,” the eldest woman laughs. “Come on, Tomoe, let’s leave your mother to work a bit longer. We have cookies to make.”

“Cookie!” The toddler cheers, squirming out of her mother’s arms. Izumi laughs and lets her go before turning to her work. She pauses, a look of thought crossing her face as the door closes. She looks at it, and then a smile crosses her face. She turns to begin writing.

“My name is Midoriya Izumi, and I was diagnosed Quirkless at age five,” her voice echoes as she writes. “My life became hell after that. I was bullied, scorned and lost my friends.”

The screen flashes pictures of a green-haired child crying and whimpering as she faces off against a blonde boy, teachers and even what looks like a neighbour.

“I only had one comfort during this time: All Might,” the screen morphs to show the girl watching the infamous debut video of the number one hero, switching to show her running around in a onesie of him and then her gushing over hero merch. “All Might was a god, someone who would think I could be a hero. I loved him, loved him so dearly it felt like life itself was being pulled from me. Then, I met him.”

Izumi is shown to be facing the hero, looking at him with hope in her eyes. A hope that seems to crumble, the screen focusing on her eyes.

“Be realistic.” the hero’s voice says.

“He told me I could not be a hero. That being Quirkless meant I could never be like him. In this way, I felt destroyed, ripped apart, and my pieces were no longer fitting.” the girl is shown walking down a street, crying. “Then, I met him again. It was after an incident at my school where one of the teachers turned out to be working for an organization called Humarise. They tried to kidnap me after paying a bunch of criminals to attack the school. I fought off the teacher and disabled one of the attackers.”

The screen shows the teenager doing what she claimed, slamming a teacher’s face into a wall before tackling a large and intimidating man, using a pen to stab at his neck, teeth bared.

“He told me something different. He said I could be one. I did ask about the change, briefly becoming furious when he mentioned he theorized I am a late bloomer and a false negative. How dare he, I thought, how DARE he try to claim I could become a hero then, with a Quirk. However, he told me that he had been wrong before.”

The screen changes to show All Might bowing to Izumi, the girl looking shocked before it changes to show her hauling trash off a beach.

“I decided to accept his offer of help, his secretary coming to check on me often. I unlocked my Quirk with their help, though I had been training with my friend Tokoyami Fumikage for some time before we met.” The screen moves to show Izumi and a bird-headed teen lifting weights in a gym together, talking. It moves back to show Izumi in her room, still writing. “All Might is my hero because he made a mistake and owned up to it later with me. He may have his flaws, but he’s a good man who is kind and generous. I could never ask for a greater hero in the pro ranks.” The girl pauses and looks around her room. It’s filled with hero merch but also contains pictures of her alongside her mother and daughter. The teenager sighs and nods.

“However, I learned that good people can do bad things young. When I was a child, my mother seemed to be against everything I did. She had an image of me that she wanted to see become a reality dearly. She would block out things she did not like and refused to back away from her ground. At first, anyway.” Izumi sighs, pausing in her writing. “I was once friends with a boy named Bakugou Katsuki. Or, as my therapist says, I was friends with the idea of him. He was a smart boy with a strong Quirk who quickly became the target of praise. My school at the time fully believed that might makes right, and he was praised backwards and forwards. My mother even saw him as a great hero in the making. At least until she caught him and his gang holding me on the ground as they tested their Quirks on me.”

The screen shows the image, the younger version of Izumi screaming as a blonde boy laughs, explosions coming off his hands. But there is her mother, watching this with horrified eyes.

“Mom cracked down, told the boys’ parents and started waking up. She stopped being so focused on image and what I should be. Instead, she allowed me to explore. She started going to therapy for herself and found me one. We began to make moves to a healthy relationship. Then…” The screen goes to Izumi again, the teenager hunched over her paper, shaking. She swallows and begins writing again. “We had a teacher named Yamanaka Hari for math. He was kind, the kindest teacher in school. I felt safe.

“I was eleven the first time he touched me. Twelve the first time he raped me. And thirteen when I gave birth to a baby. My mom knew something was happening, and when I told her….”

The screen changes to show a regular-looking middle school, with people talking and teachers working. A man is in front of a class, teaching math. The door flies open, and everyone jumps. Standing there is Mrs. Midoriya, her eyes almost glowing as she glares at the man.

“You fucking TOUCHED MY DAUGHTER!” she screams, the man suddenly screaming. The screen moves to show Izumi continuing her writing.

“My mom broke seventeen bones and castrated Yamanaka. He’ll never touch another person, and mom got off with a slap on the wrist for her actions. No one cared, not when more evidence of me not being the first came to light. Aldera had two former Quirkless students. And they had tried to speak up only to be ignored. Mom packed us up and moved as soon as the court case finished, my daughter Tomoe in tow. So, my hero, who is not a pro, will always be my mother. For changing for me and doing everything in her power to protect me.”

The screen focuses on the smile of Izumi before it changes to show Principal Nezu reading over the essays. He grins as he reads one.

“Why, Midoriya Izumi, you’re going to be a fun one.” he chuckles.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

-Alright, so in this AU- Inko wised up when she was confronted with the cruelty Izumi went through. It shocked her enough that she got a therapist because she wondered how she hadn’t seen this. Said therapist worked through Inko’s populationist ideals, and then Yamanaka attacking Izumi had her fully break away from her old ideals.

They moved and ended up near the Tokoyami family who Izumi became best friends with. They have mutual crushes, but while Izumi is more adjusted in this AU, neither has made the step forward yet.

-All Might met Izumi mostly the same way at first, and then after more thought realized he fucked up, but couldn’t find her until the attack on her school. (This also has a side effect of making people side eye Humarise more before the bombs)

#bnha #bnha au #boku no hero academia #fem midoriya izuku #tokodeku #tw mention of rape #pulling on the strings of destiny #13 days of aus

8 notes · View notes

ujimoo · 2 years ago

Text

Things I think of when I think of: SVT

notes: these are things I think of when I think of the members of seventeen. these are my own opinions. this has also morphed into them as boyfriends as well, so enjoy both

bonus notes: sorry if this is kinda sucky, I tried my best but ideas haven't been coming to me as easily as they normally. Hope you still enjoy though

permanent tag list: @plutominho @soobin-chois

skz | seventeen

----

seungcheol / s.coups:

FLIRTY !! back hugs, holding hands, cherries (especially cherry flavoured lip balm), oversized jumpers, "LOOK AT MY S/O!!", dog parents, bringing him and the boys food when they have practice, him swooning when you guys to domestic things, wants a family and for his boys to be uncles. take care of him and support him is the way to his heart because he's glad he can have someone to rely on especially when it comes to leading twelve other boys however, he wouldn't change it for the world. Honestly, I also see him screaming whenever you do something cute to him, I mean come on HIS GIGGLES?! Music to your ears. Choi Seungcheol Best Laughter !

jeonghan:

cheating on games, teasing, flirty banter, teaming up to (affectionately) annoy the other members. Cooking for everyone. Watching you and smirking because he knows you're who he loves and he's slightly cocky about it, but he also is just genuinely amazed at how you could love him as much as you do. and make sure he never forgets that. playfully scolding him when he teases the babies a bit too much. texting you random things, but when you text back he leaves you on read only for him to respond two hours later with 'lol, forgot to text you back'. Will spam you with face time calls when he's on tour or just when he's bored.

joshua:

serenading you, gentleman, watching you from across the room with a loving gaze, hand holding, low-key pda, wholesome couple, if spring was a person it would be joshua, I can't tell you why or how I feel this way, but I do. praises you, you guys have photos together, but not many, you as his home screen, a photo of you in his wallet, falling asleep on the sofa watching a movie at night whilst drinking wine, brings you flowers if you like them that is.

jun:

cats, lowkey matching items like rings or necklaces, mood rings, taking bad selfies together just because you can, tops/shirts with long sleeves, visiting cafes together, slow dancing at midnight in the refrigerator light, feeding each other, himbo junhui<3, watching the sunset and just watching the colours reflect onto his face, being so smitten with each other that everything he does just makes you blush and swoon, protective and sweet boyfriend jun = will do everything to make sure you feel loved and safe.

soonyoung / hoshi:

tigers, are we surprised? dancing dates, teaching you the routines for seventeen songs -- and even others that he might know, or he'd learn one you wanted to learn just so he could teach you. the stuffed animal claw machine at arcades. dancing in the rain. sending you selfies and texts anytime he can, helping you take off your make-up when you're tired if you wear makeup that is, CUDDLES, basically attached at the hip, always touching each other in some way. Be his #1 supporter because he's your #1<3

wonwoo:

gaming together, linked pinky fingers, sitting on his lap or between his legs when he plays a game, feeding him snacks, over-sized jumper, reading dates, picking out books for each other, annotating books for each other, winning you a stuffed toy, placing bets on who can win more tickets in the arcade. cooking for him, and enjoying food in general together. he's a quiet but sweet boyfriend, he does things more in actions than words, but his words are also just as sweet.

jihoon / woozi:

sweater/hoodie paws, studio dates, playlists, love expressed more in action than in words, songs about you (a whole separate folder of songs about you), marvel movie marathons, take-out dates aka bringing him take-out to his studio, matching anime pfps, another quieter boyfriend but still loving, he doesn't get jealous often doesn't feel the need to not because he doesn't love you or doesn't care, but he knows you love him and wouldn't do anything that would cause him to be jealous. loves you for you and the way you are and the way you treat his brothers.

seokmin / DK:

love notes on sticky notes randomly spread around your apartment, singing in the shower, daisy chains, the way the sun shines on a warm day, cheek kisses, hand holding, giggling at all times because he’s just so funny, singing on road trips, dancing in the kitchen in refrigerator light, comedy duo, sunshine couple, he has photos of you two in his wallet from a photo booth, him attempting to do your make-up if you wear it, wearing his jumpers cause they're always so warm and smell like him. he's a soft and loving boyfriend, not jealous in any way.

mingyu:

first of all husband material! cooking for you, cooking dates in general, photography dates, hand holding, hand on your waist, hugging you from behind, polaroid pictures in either your phone case or wallet, protective boyfriend! will always stay by your side especially if you're feeling anxious, always willing to go on adventures and to try something. he's also a baby though, so make sure to love and treat him well.

minghao / THE8:

art dates, fashion shows, motivational talks, real-life talks at 2am, realistic advice, photography dates, dancing at the studio and bringing them lunch/dinner, low-key matching outfits, candid photos, painting, and being each other's number one supporter. understanding and communicative. doesn't feel the need for jealousy or anything petty. will tell you things even if you don't want to hear them because he loves and supports you and wants the best for you

seungkwan:

laughter, basically being a two-person comedy show, warm hugs, sassy banter, giving each other (affectionate) glares, teasing when you're around other people, but alone you tell each other all the sweet nothings you could muster. playing with his fingers with you're cuddling and sitting together. can be jealous, but not because he doesn't trust you, but more other people, can glare and be petty towards other people. You're his and you're his favourite person so no one else can have you in a not creepy way.

vernon:

chaos, yet chill. ik it doesn't make sense, but at the same time, it does. colourful clothes, purposely taking bad photos. making memes of each other, having a folder, especially for each other and their photos (and memes), late-night dates where you don't do anything in particular, but just chill, vanilla that's the vibe I get from him, it's not bad and it might be classed as a basic smell, but its also a comforting aroma and that's what I see Vernon as, someone that brings comfort. no need for jealousy here people, vernon knows you and loves you and the same for you to him, so there's no need for that. having a cat baby together, sending photo updates of said cat baby.

chan / dino:

dino’s baby, dance dates whether that's at a class, in the studio or at home. wearing his clothes, getting you to take his photos for his Instagram, movie nights, a lot of laughter, mutual teasing, I don't think he'd get jealous that much but maybe he'd have moments where he'd doubt more himself and not you, streaming all of his danceology videos<3, him as your lock screen and home screen, you're his #1 supporter, you shower each other in this pure love that can make others jealous, wishing they had what you guys have.

456 notes · View notes

soft4gguk · 3 years ago

Text

to build a home | chapter one

pairing: Jungkook x reader. ceo!jk + dilf!jk x nanny!oc

genre: strangers to lovers. angst. loads of plot. eventual smut

word count: 6.8k (y’all need context okay)

warnings: oof. oof. buckle up. angst, loads of angst! (im sorry), touches on subjects such as: depression (hints), postpartum depression, abandonment, mild prescription medication talk, loads of jk crying :(, loads of crying baby :(, swearing

author’s note: hi! this is a very self-indulgent storyline that sort of came to me and I just had to put thought into paper. well, I ended up really liking the plot and my mind started going places and now it’s all I can think about. i do have to say it’s going to be a bit of a slow burn but! not like this chapter though – this chapter had to be informative to set the context. my mans jk did not suffer for nothing! i hope cute baby / loving dad jk made up for all the angst in this! also! It’s gonna get sexy, ~sexy so just u wait! also! I don’t have a set schedule but this story is coming to me in heavy bursts of inspiration so I might be whipping chapters left and right (cross ur fingers). also! (the last one, promise) I hate Ira too :)

This is a work of fiction. Please respect the members and their privacy. x

Chapter One

The digital clock on the console of his car marks six thirty pm on the dot. It makes Jungkook’s gaze shift to the sky – a synchronicity so perfect the sun begins to set right upon his eyes. Spring is easing into Summer and he can’t wait for the longer days and shorter nights the hot season bestows.

“We need one last look-over the contracts to finalize. I think the visit this weekend will finally see us wrapping this up. And then inauguration one month from now.” Seokjin’s voice fills the enclosed space of Jungkook’s car, a slight echo to his voice coming from the speakers.

“Sounds good, hyung. Good work.” He tells his cousin, right hand and the COO of his company.

“Hey, is Ira coming this weekend?” He asks. His question leaves Jungkook wondering. He assumes she will.

“Haven’t discussed it yet, could be good for her though. We can make a getaway of it.” He replies, head already swimming with ideas of how refreshing a family trip could be for the three of them.

“Alright, kid. Send my love.” Seokjin says, making him let out a light chuckle, before the line goes silent.

In the road ahead, the sun resumes its steady descend. His home comes to view at the very end of the street, the colours of the sky dancing against the sleek white walls. It’s been a long day and he’s tired. Now more than ever, with the inauguration of the new addition to his chain of hotels nearing, he craves the grounding feeling of being home – two familiar faces awaiting. One full of unconditional love.

He parks his cls next to hers, the sleek white shade contrasting against his black one. Grabbing his phone and keys from the cup holder, he exits the car, climbing the steps to his front door and inserting the code that unlocks it.

Home. He takes pride in the need he holds for it, how much he craves it, how much he wants to be the backbone of the one he built. The idea of family gets morphed when you’re brought into an immeasurable amount of wealth. His parents, although good intentioned, lacked the warmth he so badly wants to install in his own roots.

He wants his daughter to grow up in a house that doesn’t look like a showroom, a distinctive smell swarming its spaces, one she’ll hold in the back of her memory until she has kids of her own. Home, never lacking the coziness a touch of love can bring a space, no matter how vast. He wants her mother to be half of that love, more than anything. Because he wants that love for her, more than anything.

He heads upstairs, the house eerily quiet. It’s two hours to bed time and he assumes Ira is winding Soori down for the night.

He reaches the top of the stairs and begins walking down the long corridor, passing a room, then two, until he finally reaches Soori’s nursery. The door is wide open and as he steps in, he sees Ira standing in front of her crib, back to him, almost hovering. He sees Soori fast asleep, blanket covering her tiny body, pacifier moving gently to the in and out of her suckling, a tight grip on her favorite giraffe plushie on her chubby baby fist.

“Hey, beautiful.” He says to Ira, though she doesn’t move from the place he found her in. “Why is she asleep so early? Fun day?” He asks, voice filled with hope. He pictures the two of them by the warm sun, basking in the easiness of the season. They’ve been introducing Soori to the water – the idea of the two of them splashing in the big pool pulling his lips upwards in a soft smile.

It doesn’t linger, the smile. Ira turns around, a sombre look to her face, unable to hold his gaze for more than a second as she redirects her eyes to the floor.

“Jungkook…,” She begins, voice barely a whisper, but ever so stern.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asks, approaching her, instinctively resting his hands on her arms before they come up as she holds herself, bracing her front.

“I booked a job. In New York.” She says, eyes finally meeting his.

“Ahh! That’s great! That’s amazing, Ira.” Jungkook says, pulling her into a hug she doesn’t return. He knows how badly she’s been craving this. A breakthrough, a taste of independence – the power of knowing she could hold all titles whilst still being mom. “We can make a trip of it! We could all go.” He muses, excitement lacing his voice as he pulls away, eyes scanning for hers.

“It’s this weekend-” She begins, but his words bring hers to a halt.

“Ah, I have that business trip but hey, you take the plane, alright?” Jungkook knows how much Ira hates flying. Long haul flights doing a thing to her nerves that require a dose or two of her therapist’s strongest prescription drug. This all comes ironically, considering her title – It girl, world-renowned model, Ira Sommersmith.

“No, Jungkook. No.” She says, arms coming to rest at her sides, pushing his hold on them away as she takes one step back, creating distance between them. The action is loud to Jungkook, the emotional space between them being too much to bear for his heart and her actions breaking it all over again.

“Bab-” He stops himself, the pet name fresh on his tongue, remembering how she’s come to despise it as Jungkook began adapting it to Soori, too. “Ira.” He says, his voice a plead, a prayer. He doesn’t know what the prayer entails but he’ll start mentally chanting it, bracing himself for impact.

“I’m leaving, Jungkook. I need to- I need to go. For good.” Her voice lacks hesitation, no pause. He simply stares at her, dumbfounded, numb to the effect his body is taking, cold sweats breaking through him. “I’m sorry. This is- you play this role too well, Jungkook. I just can’t seem to follow the script.”

“It’s not a role.” Jungkook says, voice a whisper that makes his words hard to grasp to Ira, but she knows what he said. She knows he would say that. She takes him in, takes one last long look at his face before it breaks her. She’s not scared of backing down from her plan, she’s scared of seeing his eyes full of heart look into hers, a lack thereof.

And she can accept it. She can wholeheartedly confess she doesn’t have the heart it takes to become selfless, to give into the three that makes the whole – Jungkook’s line that he’s adapted to bring hope into the immense cloud of blue that fell upon her when it all became too real. When the idea of three became a reality one morning after he’d gone to work and she stared at the mirror, a bump bulging at the center of her otherwise lean physique. Her first thought wasn’t that of excitement but of confusion. It felt foreign and it took her aback so frantically she found herself calling her OB/GYN, voice shaky as she repeated, “it came out of nowhere, I just- I wasn’t showing yesterday…” Her panic was received by a faint laugh on the other line, reassuring her pregnancy had no fixed agenda and that her “little one” had decided to make him or herself known. She waited for the doctor’s words to hit, for the excitement to follow, but it didn’t. What truly broke her came next as the doctor took her silence for something else and ended her discourse with a, “surprise, mama!”

Ira brought her phone down, staring at the screen before abruptly hanging up. She’d hope the doctor would blame it on poor connection.

She went about her day in autopilot, waiting. Waiting for the new curvature her body was taking on to simply be an add on in the sea of hopes that her pregnancy had brought until that very morning. But it never came. It never came, and the tears that would stream down her face late at night when the world slept and the darkness accepted her thoughts as they came, weren’t due to the impatience of her heart longing to love the life she was forming inside of her. They came out of fear it would.

Ira’s heart wasn’t fragile. Quite the opposite – it lacked the fragility it requires to love unconditionally.

When Soori came into the world, she made her entrance kicking and screaming. Ira understood; the overwhelm of the space was getting to her, too. At least on that they could agree. Her wails filled the room and muffled her hearing, everything in slow motion as shock set upon her. The pain between her legs from delivering her minutes prior subsided as numbness took over. She could hear her cries nearing and she finally came out of her trance the moment the nurse placed Soori on top of her chest. She looked down at her, arms coming up to hold her tiny frame in place. And when she did, dense silence filled the room as she found comfort in her mother’s arms and her cries came to a rest, opening her eyes for the first time. Ira looked down once again and understood the meaning of unconditional love. Soori was warm against her and that’s when she knew she’d never be able to reciprocate said love. Cold shivers ran down every corner of her body, settling into her heart. She understood it, but she couldn’t feel it.

“I’m sorry,” she says again, “I tried.” The last words fade away as she turns around, taking one last look at her daughter, a part of her tries again, focusing on the heartstrings of her soul, waiting for the pull. Nothing comes and she closes her eyes, breathing in, knowing that'd be the last time she'd take in her daughter. She turns around, looking at Jungkook for a split second. He’s frozen in place, gaze lost, fixated on the pastel pink wall in front of him, unable to look at her. “Goodbye, Jungkook. You-,” she can’t tell if he’s listening but she finishes anyway, “you were good to me. Okay? You-,” she needs to get out of there, now. “Goodbye.” And with that, she leaves. Past the door of the nursery, not a beat behind, without second guessing. She leaves and doesn’t turn back to witness Jungkook’s world coming to a slow, quiet shatter. The sort of silence that settles into your bones uncomfortably.

His world stops and, in the numbness, he becomes hyperaware of his senses. He doesn’t miss her steps down the corridor and back, the sound of wheels against the floor distinct this time, down the stairs and finally, he hears the front door close.

Soori stirs behind him, a faint whine leaving her mouth as she begins to wake up.

Jungkook’s legs feel heavy, glued to the floor, and his eyes haven’t left that spot on the wall they fixated in when he realized that watching Ira leave would make it all that more painful. And so, he stands there, mind empty yet hazy with incoherent thoughts he can’t puzzle together. An ominous cloud fills the space as the sun finally sets and the room goes dark around him. For a minute, Jungkook basks in a thought surprisingly comforting: the worst thing has already happened. It takes him in and cradles him as he goes with that narrative.

It doesn’t last long. Soori’s cries from behind him sound distant, faint, for the briefest of seconds before they fully snap Jungkook out of his trance. His baby. He turns around and sees her little figure propped up against the bars of her crib, looking up at him, pacifier hanging from the string that attaches it to her sleeping gown. Her eyes are red and glassy with tears and he wonders for how long she’s been crying.

“Hey, hey…,” his voice is gentle, a soft coo as he reaches for Soori, flushing his chest to hers once he has her in his arms. His free hand coming up to cradle her head as he softly sways back and forth, “it’s okay, baby. I’m here… I’m here.”

Her crying comes to a halt but she fusses in his arms, little whines escaping her mouth as Jungkook settles into the rhythm he knows she finds soothing. It’s then that it dawns upon him – his brief encounter with comfort was a lie his brain told his heart. Delusion a form of survival. His hold on Soori’s head tightens a bit, almost as if to ease the impact his thoughts might have on her. The worst is yet to come. His tears fall freely now, fear and uncertainty tugging at his chest in a way that takes him aback with how physically painful it is. His hands shake and his legs feel weak, like they won’t be able to hold him, or the burden that settles through him for much longer.

He gives in before they give out, slowly lowering his legs as they cross until he can finally feel the soft fabric of the carpet underneath him. Soori’s tears release yet again the moment the swaying stops, the new position on the floor in her father’s arms making her even more restless. He holds her, whispering a string of sorry, sorry, sorry against her ear as he brings her soft cheek flush to his until their tears form an even stream of droplets falling down their faces, settling uncomfortably on their necks.

He loses track of time and he can feel, ever so distinctively, as his spirit weakens by the minute. Mind still in that haze that makes it hard to distinguish between an empty mind and a racing one. He can’t find the words and as soon as his worries fixate on one thing in particular, he swerves around it. Not really letting his brain linger on just one to nit-pick, instead preferring the overwhelm of them all combined, thrown at him together. He rather not know what exactly scares him the most about this situation.

Usually enticed by challenge, this one finds him unwilling. He wants nothing more than to lower his whole body to the floor, hold his baby and close his heavy lids until he falls into a deep slumber. But he knows he can’t. Soori can’t stay still. Soori crawls. Soori is small but mighty and it would take her a matter of minutes to find her way to the stairs. Soori’s cries bounce on the walls, getting louder and louder. He wonders if she had her night bottle. Soori nibbles on her hand the way she’s come to do as she teethes, face scrunched up in discomfort. Soori needs him.

Soori came into the world kicking and screaming and with a healthy shade of pink adorning her tiny body that finally made Jungkook release the breath he’d been holding from the moment he could see her head from his position next to Ira as he held her hand. His first thought was how small she was, he couldn’t shake the fear of having her in his arms, wondering if she’d fit just right. Her cries restored something inside of him he’d long lost when he was very young and the harshness of the world tumbled down upon him, stripping him of an innocence he knew he’d want his daughter to carry for as long as she could. The overwhelm in his heart when he cut her umbilical chord was the sweetest he’d experience; and when she was finally placed in her mother’s chest and he could allow the world to slow down around him to take in his daughter for the first time, he made an unspoken vow. Love would always be stronger. Hope would always prevail. As long as she needed him, those two would be the root of his every action. Strength found its way to a corner of his heart that was growing by the second the more he stared at Soori. He’d take on the bravery of the world so as to make hers softer. And he’d love her in all of his lives.

He gets up, body feeling lethargic but adjusting his grip on his daughter’s body, putting his whole consciousness there. He doesn’t trust his limbs.

“Are you hungry, baby?” He asks her. It’s rhetoric, for various reasons. “Yeah, you are.” He says, even though he’s not sure. He begins the trip towards the kitchen, forcing a mental strain to go about his every step. To wrap around his every thought. To figure out where to go from here.

He reaches the bottom of the stairs, stopping by the living room first to lay her gently on the couch before removing her sleeping gown, setting her free from the restraints and letting her legs kick at him. Her demeanour changed and when he stares into her eyes, slightly envious of how her tears have seemed to dry, she smiles at him. It’s a wide grin that flashes him her two little bottom teeth that are beginning to come through and his heart melts at the sight. His heart hurts but she nurses the wound slowly and he can’t help but smile back at her. It takes him aback at times – how in nine short months he’s come to grow so enamoured with this fun-sized version of a human that demands so much time, attention and energy from him. But it’s moments like these, when she shines light into his dark corners with just a smile, that he understands. She holds more power in her two peeking bottom teeth than half of the things Jungkook thought gave him purpose nine months ago when she made her entrance into the world. Kicking and screaming and pink.

He cradles her in his arms once again as he stands up and positions her to rest at his waist. She instinctively grabs his ear – another one of the habits she’d picked up recently. Jungkook likes knowing he’s able to soothe her, almost mindlessly. Something catches his eye and he recognizes it immediately. Ira’s phone, resting on top of the coffee table. He leans, tapping the screen until it flashes back at him. Her wallpaper is a picture of her and Jungkook, taken three years prior, at the beginning of their relationship. Their happy faces stare back at him – mocking him. He scoffs. Nothing’s funny but he’s laughing because he can’t allow himself a fit of anger right now. And crying sounds too exhausting, his eyes too tired.

It hits him again, not that he needed much confirmation. It hits him that she’s not looking back. It hits him that she left with every intention to not spare them a second glance. It hit him that wherever she is, their realities are so different now. The moment she walked out that door she left nothing and everything that mattered behind. She freed herself from her role and walked steadily into the direction of whatever she deems as freedom. Ira was never one to ease into things. It used to be something that excited him. He looked at her and at times his brain painted flames of fiery orange seeping through her. Bold, confident – fearless.

He stands in front of the kitchen counter, one handing the process of making Soori’s bottle. Eyes lost, not really following the formula as it goes inside the bottle, the water – its temperature. Too hot? No, too cold. He puts it inside the bottle warmer, pushes the button and waits. He asks himself if he’s surprised or just heart broken. Mentally, he shakes the Jungkook from two hours ago and asks him, “did you not see it coming? Were you trying or were you lying to yourself?” The conclusion he draws feels like not enough. He saw it coming, yes. For over a year now he’s felt like the path he’s been walking went from eggshells to shattered glass – unavoidable, painful, way too fucking loud. So, he knew. He knew his feet would give out. He knew she was going to cut through all of him one day. Yet as much knowledge as he held when it came to his situation, he could’ve never seen this coming. He’d imagine their impending doom hitting him in the face eventually. They weren’t married, she could just leave at any moment. She could leave him at any moment. He’d set her free and he’d still give Soori a home, doubled in love to make up for her parent’s distance and the back and forth she’d have to endure. He would’ve tried. More couple’s therapy, individual counselling, all the help he could muster to get from friends and family. Trips to bond, trips to escape. He did all that and he would’ve done more. Because he loved her. He loves her.

He’s not sure when their love became mechanical, a form of habit. Disappointment tends to do that to people, he reckons. But he still did love her and he tried. Not just because of Soori but because of Ira, too. And because of them. Not the three, but the two they used to be. The same two that rest on top of his coffee table, trapped inside a memory forever, unaware of the future ahead but so hopeful. He loved the love they had and so for that reason, he loved her.

The bottle warmer beeps and he takes it out of the sleek looking machine. Soori bounces in his hold, excited. “Come on, missy. Let’s have dinner.” He tells her and she throws some unintelligible baby noises at him.

He heads back to the living room and sits them down on the couch. He props Soori against a pillow and feeds her the bottle. What are we going to do, he thinks, but brushes the thought away. This weight falls on his shoulders and he makes yet another unspoken vow as he stares down at her. He promises her a soft impact, painless whenever it can. He promises to hold her and coax her through it, to ease the burden and to explain with lullabies when the time is right. He stares at her until her eyes flutter, beginning a sleepy dance as she fights to stay awake, holding her feet in her small hands. A silent tear falls down his eyes and that’s the last sight, slightly blurry because of her long eyelashes, between her heavy lids before she falls into a peaceful slumber.

He paces around the living room. He paces the way he does when ideas are brewing inside his head at work – new locations, new investors, new partnerships. Ideas, ideas, ideas. He’s good at coming up with them. He’s good at quick solutions to whatever problem might arise – it’s what made his father ease so effortlessly into an early retirement after teaching Jungkook the ins and outs of the so-called empire he now calls his.

Soori sleeps on the couch. The pillow she’d been propped up in now besides her, building a barrier between her body and the soft cushions. He knows she’d be off better in her crib but the idea terrified him, made him feel alone.

Ideas, ideas, ideas yet he can’t come up with a single one. A part of him tells him there’s not much left to do. It tells him that it’s been done. That it’s time to move on with his life, with their lives. But the mere idea of taking the leap – of moving on, finds him scared, confused and shatters him more and more. It also reminds him of the way she so casually walked out, like it didn’t matter. She set flame to the fire and didn’t even linger around long enough to watch it burn. It angers him, her carelessness. He’s not like that, never has been, and he’s not going to start now. He knows forcing himself to move on will only repercuss in him breaking even further in the long run. So, his first idea is to face the reality. But he can’t right now, he feels too alone, too small. He has to push his heroic persona aside and admit defeat. And so he does.

His second idea finds him seeking comfort. He can’t be comfort to Soori if he’s just breaking. He knows he’s going to break; he knows this is just the beginning, but he needs there to be more to it. He retrieves his phone from his back pocket, inhaling loudly as he unlocks it. He needs a friend. He has a couple, another thing he takes pride in, but he knows this situation is way too sensitive. He thinks of Seokjin, his contact the most recent call on his phone, but he quickly diverts. Suelgi, his wife, had grown rather fond of Ira and in a way, she’d become her confidant amidst the whirlwind that was motherhood. He doesn’t feel like delivering news that will require him comforting someone else to that extent – he can barely comfort himself, let alone his friend.

His eyes find Taehyung’s name on the screen, also a recent contact on his call history. Yes, good – this is good. Taehyung is good. Him and Mai have been a constant in Jungkook’s life for as long as he can remember. He’s seen them go from high school sweethearts to a painful college breakup that luckily ended up in them finding their way back to each other. It took Taehyung approximately 37 days to ask her to marry him. He’d never seen two people sport a last name with more pride – The Kims. Nowadays they also go by mom and dad. They’re Soori’s godparents and Jungkook’s best friends. He taps on his contact and the first ring against his ear sounds obnoxiously loud. His head pounds against his skull.

“Yo, you’re on speaker phone!” Taehyung’s voice, enthusiastic as always, fills the speakers. Jungkook stays quiet.

“Ggukie, we were just about to call you!” It’s Mai’s voice on the phone now. “Dae is down for the night and we just popped open that bottle of Don Julio 1942 Tae got after the inauguration of the gallery. He had an early mid-life crisis after Monsters Inc had him shedding tears before bedtime.” Jungkook can hear Taehyung’s gasp of offense at his wife’s confession somewhere in the background. He’s unable to make a sound as Mai continues. “He’s insisting we do something crazy to ‘feel young again’ so shots on a Wednesday it is!” she mocks.

“I…,” Jungkook begins – but where does he even start?

Taehyung grabs the phone from Mai, “come on, tell Irie. Soo can sleep in Dae’s old bassinet.”

“Ira’s gone.” He blurts out. It’s abrupt and probably not the best way to break the news but the pet name breaks him and he doesn’t think he can stay in their bliss for a second longer.

“Gone where?” Taehyung asks innocently and even though his question makes Jungkook’s temple throb in pain he doesn’t pin it against him.

But silence is all he can offer.

“Oh…,” Mai starts – intuitive as ever. Her voice is soft, and already Jungkook releases a bit of tension in his shoulders, knowing she understood. “Oh, Gguk…”

“I just-”

“Come over, Gguk. Or we can go – as you wish. Just say the words.” Mai comforts.

“No, I’ll go. I need to get out of here.” And those are the surest words that leave his mouth that night.

He’s gentle with Soori as he straps her into her car seat. She’s a heavy sleeper, just like him, but he still holds his breath as he settles her down and gets her ready for the road. He double checks the diaper bag and when everything ticks off his mental list he heads for the driver’s seat.

Soori sleeps and he tries to focus on the road and just the road. No music on the stereo. Just full focus on what he can see from his windshield as he takes turns on the wide streets of his neighbourhood and mental turns in his head, swerving all the painful thoughts away.

The quiet lasts maybe a total of three minutes before Soori’s wide awake and back to inconsolable crying. She’s not a whiny baby – her demeanour often praised for being so peaceful, big eyes taking in the world around her as she graces it with her softness. But she’s been in and out of sleep, out of schedule, and Jungkook knows she misses Ira.

Because when Ira said she tried, she wasn’t lying. She tried, she did. She breastfed until it was physically painful. She did the exhausting night feeds right alongside Jungkook and then what felt like ten years with no rest as Soori was sleep training. She gave her baths, took her to Thursday brunch with her friends, read her books before bedtime. When they took weekend trips to get away from routine, Ira got this aura about her – something bordering on happiness that she carried so effortlessly. It would leave Jungkook hopeful – but his hopes would crash the moment they settled back home. Her therapists’ suggestions for bonding with Soori all made sense to Ira. In fact, they were so good she almost believed them. Sometimes they would have long days in the sun, fun family gatherings where the affection Jungkook’s parents would give Soori would fill her with something that almost felt like pride. They would sit in the grass of their big garden and watch her play with his family dog and a glimpse of hope would knock on the closed doors of her heart. Those days felt so good, but the sun eventually set and the air would feel sombre again as they drove back to their house. Totheir lives. Deep within, Ira wished she could enjoy the day without having to take it back home with her.

The love Ira gave Soori was also mechanical. But Soori didn’t know better – all she saw was love. And warmth. And the smell of her mom’s clothes as she rocked her to sleep. The sound of her voice as she begged her to, ‘please be good. Please don’t cry. I can’t take it anymore,’ when Jungkook would leave and she’d have a whole day ahead of a life that felt like a chore. All Soori heard was lullabies because she doesn’t know better.

“We’re almost there, baby. Shh, Soo. You’re alright, pretty girl.” He says, but he doesn’t think she can hear him with how loudly she’s crying.

Soori misses her mom.

Jungkook cries, too. And, taking advantage of her high-pitched mewls that fill the confined space, he sobs too.

Jungkook parks behind Taehyung’s car in their driveway. He grips the steering wheel, afraid the moment his friends take them in it will all become too real. He sits there – Soori’s cries less sporadic this time, almost like she gave up on getting her father’s attention. He opens his door, welcoming the soft breeze inside his car for a brief moment before he’s closing it and heading towards the backseat.

Mai had been standing next to her window for the past fifteen minutes. Heir brain had been running around in circles, wondering how exactly things escalated, how they got to this point. She fears for her friend’s sanity, knowing Jungkook had been walking a thin line for as long as her memory remembers her very own excitement over Soori’s prompt arrival.

She sees his car drive in front of her house, taking a swift turn until he’s finally parked in her driveway. She can’t see much but she can paint a mental picture of Jungkook just sitting there, lost – an expression she’s seen him adapt more and more lately. She perks up at the sight of him but her face falls into a frown the minute she sees him walk back to the backseat.

“What-?” she whispers to herself. “Tae, Gguk is here. With… Soori,” she says, watching her little head come out of the backseat of his car.

“Soori?” Taehyung asks, confusion lacing his voice, a frown adorning his face.

Mai walks quickly to the front door, opening it before Jungkook reaches it. His eyes meet hers and he sighs. He notices her eyes fixated on Soori, who’s own are red and swollen from crying, whimpers still leaving her lips. Her breath is erratic and Jungkook feels her little body jolt as she begins to let out another cry. Mai’s confused expression lets Jungkook know that of course, his friends were expecting Ira to leave him. They were expecting Soori to leave him, too, by pure default. That’s just how the narrative usually unfolds, doesn’t it?

But the narrative isn’t catering to Jungkook’s best interests. Their narrative is far from what you would consider normal.

“Come in, Gguk. What-,” she begins, but opts not to bombard him with the hard questions right away. “Come in.”

Taehyung immediately reaches for Soori who falls into his arms seamlessly. “Hey, princess. Hey, you’re alright Soori girl. Come here.” He coos and she begins to soften at his voice, “that’s a big girl. Stop growing up.” He tells her, his last request a whisper, as he brings her cheek to his, holding her in embrace – comforting her.

Jungkook steps inside their home, its warmth embracing him immediately and he’s glad he came here.

Taehyung and Mai got an unexpected influx of money before Dae was born. The gallery they’d been running attracting a different sort of crowd all of a sudden. The curiosity and modernity of the curation they’d put their hearts and souls (and savings) into attracting a crowd of curious yet wealthy collectors, investors and sole lovers of the craft. One turned into two galleries, then three and now recently, four. They amount their success to the faith of the people, the artists and the consumers and the ones that were simply driven by the passion for it. Mai was seven months pregnant when they upgraded from their small one-bedroom apartment to their four-bedroom, white picket fenced home. The very first materialization of that first taste of big-time money.

The first words she let out when she stepped inside were, “I can’t wait for toys to litter these shiny floors.” And litter them they did, giving it a feel of family Jungkook admired and promised himself his own wouldn’t lack. Ira hated clutter though.

“Let’s sit down, okay?” Mai says calmly, holding onto his arm. His steps are a bit hesitant and wobbly – if she didn’t know better, she’d think he was drunk.

“Okay.” He returns.

Taehyung follows behind him, a quiet Soori nuzzled against his shoulder, breath fanning the crook of his neck that grows steadier within the second. Now more than ever, Jungkook is grateful for the soothing effect he has on her.

He sits down, Mai occupying the spot besides him. Taehyung stays positioned on his feet before them, gently swaying Soori from side to side as her body grows limp, temping sleep.

His head comes forward, gaze fixated on his shoes. He breaks. “She left us. She just… left. Said she’d booked a job in New York. I thought she’d be gone for a week at most. But then she said she’d be gone for good. She,” his words get stuck in his throat, pain unleashing inside of him all over again at the fresh memories, “said she tried. Took one last look at Soori and then just… left.”

As soon as his recollection of the story comes to an end, he realizes just how short it was. His life came to an abrupt stop and then took a 180 degree turn in the span of what Jungkook deems to have been five minutes.

He never wants to utter the words she said again.

He’s crying and Taehyung wants nothing more than to hold him, let him know that it will all be okay. But he’s finding it hard to believe it himself, so he leaves the words of comfort to Mai. His arms instinctively wrap tighter around Soori – heart breaking at the realization she’d been abandoned, too.

“Come here,” Mai says, wrapping her arm around him and letting him cry, head against her shoulder, his own shaking as silent tears spill from his eyes.

“Do you think she’ll come back, Gguk?” Taehyung asks, even though he knows the answer. He’s always found it easier to console after knowing the facts, not believing in the whole ignorance is bliss bullshit.

He shakes his head. His voice is quiet when he says, “No. She left her phone behind, her half of the closet was empty. I’m not even sure it’s New York where she was headed.”

Mai shakes her head in disbelief. Her motherly instincts take on flight or fight mode as she tries to grasp just how someone could do something like that.

“Okay…,” Taehyung begins, sitting down next to him. “Listen to me,” but Jungkook’s gaze is still transfixed to the floor. “Jungkook-ah.”

“Huh?” He says, voice distant, eyes still lost.

“We’ll figure it out. Okay? You and Soori- you’re not alone. We’re here and we’ll figure it out. You’ve got us, the both of you.” Jungkook nods at his friends’ words. Taehyung rests his head on top of his shoulder. He’s grateful for his reassurance, even if he doesn’t fully believe it.

They don’t press on any further, well aware this is not the time to dissect the situation. He lets Mai pull him to his feet. She asks him a couple of questions that he can’t fully follow so he shakes his head at every single one of them. With Soori asleep in Taehyung’s arms, he lets himself disassociate.

He follows Mai up the stairs, Taehyung right behind them. He doesn’t complain when the darkness of their guest bedroom impairs his sight slightly, finding comfort in its density. The feel of the bed against his aching body lulls him into something that almost feels like peace – senses calming down slightly, as if telling him the day has finally come to an end.

Taehyung is detaching Soori from his body, lowering her down towards the bassinet besides the bed. Jungkook jumps from his resting position in the bed, startling Mai who tries holding him back instinctively.

“No. Put her here. She- she needs to sleep with me, she-” His voice is frantic.

“It’s okay, Gguk. Look, she’s here.” Taehyung places her in the bed next to her father who follows the baby’s movement as his own head hits the mattress.

Mai builds a makeshift fort of pillows that surround Soori’s tiny frame, stacking one on top of the other for good measure. She makes a mental note to check up on her throughout the night.

“Baby monitor. Just in case he doesn’t wake up.” Taehyung says, placing one of the devices in the bedside table.

“Tae,” Mai starts but she doesn’t really know where the sentence was going. Shock settles upon her.

“I know.” He says.

“Fuck, Tae. What is he-,” Mai makes sure to hear for Jungkook’s soft snores before she finishes, “Soori’s only nine months old. How could she just leave?”

Taehyung wraps his arm around Mai, bringing her close to his chest as the same fear she’s feeling begins taking over him, too. He shakes his head. “I don’t know, baby. I- we’ll figure something out. It’ll be alright.”

Soori twitches in place, letting out a loud sigh that has Mai sure will be followed by another restless string of sobs. But Jungkook places his hand on her tummy, eyes still closed, gently rocking her as he lets out a soft coo, something so faint they can’t quite make up his words. But his daughter relaxes against his touch, falling back into a peaceful sleep.

Fear plagues him but Taehyung is sure of the words that fall past his lips next.

“They’ll be alright.”

~------------~

i hope you enjoyed! stream butter to mend those hearts if you’re hurting as much as me over this mess! if you liked this I would love to know and to chat all about it – or about whatever u want, i want army friends :) lots of kisses!!!! xxxxxx

2K notes · View notes

hwaflms · 3 years ago

Text

pairing⭒bf!choi san x f!reader 𖦹 genre⭒fluff 𖦹 wc⭒0.725k 𖦹 requested !

[10:56 a.m.] "sannie, for the hundredth time, we already have a bed for byeol, stop trying to buy another one!", you scold with a soft smile, dragging san away from the cat bed section.

"but that one looks so cute", he whines in return, letting you pull him along with a pout. "look, that pink bed so fluffy! byeol would be very thankful, i think."

you sigh, patting him on the back sarcastically and continuing to walk, wondering whether bringing him to shop with you was a good idea. the occasion was that you and san had recently moved in together after he admitted that he had been wanting to do so for a while. since it was newly bought, the house was empty and you figured today would be a good day to start shopping for furniture and other appliances the two of you would need.

"babe, we're only in here for a bed and maybe a couch or something? we don't have time to buy other things right now. we can get byeol a toy or something, okay?", you try to compromise and san nods understandingly at you, slipping his fingers through yours and tugging you along the various aisles of the large department store.

"what kind of bed are we looking for?", he asks, eyes roaming over the assorted, fancy looking beds. "maybe a queen sized one? definitely not that one", you reply, face morphing into one of disgust when your eyes land on a hideously coloured bed covered in polka dots of mixed colours. "i think it's sexy", wiggling his eyebrows mockingly, he pokes his finger into the mattress on top of the bed, shaking his head after, deeming it "not soft enough".

you continue to browse through a number of beds, none seemingly fitting your standards. after an hour of searching, you were beginning to feel like you had chosen the wrong store to shop at. "sannie, maybe we should try another place?", you huff tiredly, plopping down on the nearest bed after making sure none of the employees were watching, putting your feet up.

your boyfriend runs a hand through his hair and releases a chuckle, deciding to join you on the bed. "maybe we should, pretty girl", he shrugs, glancing over at you with a smile.

"what?", you ask amusedly, feeling his gaze on you. "nothing, it's just..", he pauses with a meek look on his face. "i can't believe we're finally moving in together. i get to be with you, all day long."

"i even get to shower with you."

you let out a snort, playfully smacking a grinning san on the chest, turning to him. "i can't believe it either. it feels like just yesterday you were shyly asking me out after class." he groans, covering his face with his hands at the memory. "i was nervous okay? you were terrifying!"

you giggle at that, looking at him with a jokingly offended expression. "i was not 'terrifying'", you gasp, placing a hand on your chest. "you were just a loser." it was now his turn to gasp and imitate your actions, feigning indignance. "was not!"

"you were a cute loser, though!", you relent, pinching his cheek endearingly. "thanks, but you were still just terrifying", grinning cheekily, he raises his arms in defense from the whack he knew he was about to receive from you. you stick your tongue out at him and pout, making him wrap his arms around your waist and pull you into him, caging you against his firm body. sighing contently, you lay your head on his chest and slip your arm across his waist, looking up at him from that position. the scent of his hoodie was so sweet and warm, making your eyes feel droopy.

"this is actually a pretty comfortable bed, you know?", you pipe up, wiggling a little to prove your point. he smiles fondly, bringing a hand to stroke your cheek in a soft manner. he slowly leans in, pressing his plush lips to your forehead in a gentle kiss, trailing them down to your ear where his hot breath makes you giggle. "it is a very comfortable bed, baby, but that doesn't matter", he mumbles into your skin, leaving small kisses surrounding the area. "any bed is fine as long as i get to wake up next to you."

643 notes · View notes

thequeertiefling · 2 years ago

Text

Expecting

Summary

With his wife pregnant, Snotlout has new insecurities to battle.

Notes

Arnora is my own oc, I’m adding her cause I can.

Takes place about a year after HTTYD 2 (ignoring THW cause I can)

The small dragon is one of two smothering smokebreaths that belong to Arnora and live in the Jorgenson house

Did onesies exist in viking times? Don’t know dont care, its cute and that's all that matters

Content Warning: Abuse is alluded to, pregnancy, birth scene

Word count: 1 788

Big thanks to @rosiethedragongeek who was a huge reason I'm even posting this, and also for the baby's name

----------------------------------------------------------------------

It was well past midnight when Snotlout shot up in his bed, panting and shaking as his head fell into his hands. Trying to calm himself down, one hand ran through his hair as the other dropped to his side. It was then he remembered he was not alone in the bed, and looked to his side to find his love layed on her side, her back facing him as she slept peacefully. Good, he didn’t wake her.

He decided that he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep, even if he tried, and got up from the bed to leave the room. While traversing the dark room he almost tripped over a munch of metal scraps, making a loud noise that woke their owner in the process. The little dragon looked at Snotlout for a moment and growled quietly before closing it’s eyes again. Snotlout cringed as he looked back at his wife, who was still sleeping despite all the noise.

He managed to find his way to the living room, where he lit up the fireplace and took a seat on the rocking chair near the window, the one he had built for Arnora in just a week after finding out about her pregnancy. He sighed as he looked out of the uncovered window. The sky looked so beautiful at this time. It could almost make him forget about the dream. He sighed again as he looked down at the basket next to him. Inside the basket were knitting instruments, wool, and a half-knit, baby-sized onesie. Recently he had taken up the craft as a way to release his pent-up stress and anxiety, while also making something that his baby would be able to use (nevermind the fact that he built practically everything the future Jorgenson would need)

He took the project out of the basket and started working on it. It was a nice red colour, and the wool was top-notch, only the best for his baby.

Even while knitting he couldn’t get his mind away from his dream. It was the most vivid one he had in a while. Sometimes he barely remembered the dreams, other times, like that night, he could remember every excruciating detail. Sometimes they weren’t even dreams, not really, more like memories. It was never the same dream, but every dream always followed the same formula. A scene would come up where he did something his father didn’t approve of, or was disappointed over, and he would start scolding Snotlout. Sometimes Spitelout would even hit him. But that wasn’t the worst part of the dreams. In every single dream his father would slowly morph, twisting and pulling, until what stood before Snotlout was his own image. A crueller version of himself, but still recognizable as Snotlout.

These dreams reflected his own fears, he knew that. He was so afraid of becoming his father that even his subconscious wouldn’t let him forget it.

He was so engrossed in his thoughts and his knitting that he didn’t notice the light at the corner of his eye until a hand came to rest on his shoulder. He yelped as he jumped, chair rocking in the process, while also holding the, now nearly finished, onesie close to his chest. He turned his head to the side, finding that the hand on his shoulder belonged to his excruciatingly beautiful (his words) wife, Arnora. She wore a small smile as she set down the oil lamp she was holding onto the floor. Both her hands came up to his face, holding him in her hands as her thumbs wiped his tears away. Huh. He hadn’t realised he’d been crying. He practically melted into her hands, one of his one leaving knit-work, which was now on his lap, to be placed over her hand. Her hands were callous, but to him they were softer than the softest silk. He always felt so safe in her hands.

Arnora looked at him with a deep love, and a bit of sadness, and whispered; ”Hey.””Hey,” Snotlout’s soft response was immediate. “How long have you been up?” as she asked this she walked around the chair to stand in front of him, revealing her large stomach. She was 8 months pregnant, another reason for Snotlout to be so stressed. He lifted items off his lap in order to make space for her to sit, which caused the chair to rock slightly. Her hands left his face as she turned around to sit on his lap. His arms wrapped around her, resting the knitwork on her enlarged stomach. “I’m not sure, kinda just woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep. I did get to work on the onesie though, look,” as he said this he lifted the onesie up so that Arnora could see it better,”I made sure to make it slightly bigger, mom said I was a pretty big baby so I just wanted to be sure.” There was pride in his voice, there always was when talking about the baby. Arnora hummed and took the item from Snotlout, so she could inspect it even closer. She was always impressed by his craftsmanship. Snotlout’s hands went back to rest on her bump. They sat in silence for a little bit, just listening to the fire, rocking ever-so-slightly on the chair.

“It was another dream, wasn’t it?” Arnora’s question cut through the silence like a knife. Snotlout’s breath hitched as he shut his eyes and laid his head on her shoulder. A shake breath left his mouth as he replied,”Yeah,” his voice coming out shaky. Arnora turned around, prompting Snotlout to lift his head, shifting herself so she could sit sideways on his lap with one arm hanging over the back of the rocking chair and the other coming up to rest on his shoulder. Snotlout rearranged his own arms so that one wrapped around her back and the other fell to her thigh. She looked at him with so much love and compassion he swore he could cry. Her voice came out softly,”Tell me about it.””It really wasn’t much. Just, the usual,” he hated how weak he sounded. He needed to be strong, especially now. But Arnora understood, she always did. “You know they’re just dreams-””Of course I do,” his voice came out more aggressive than he would have liked,”it’s just.” he sighed and slumped even more, if that was possible,”I just can’t stop thinking about it. What if I’m not cut out for this? I don’t really know what it’s like to have a good father. What if I end up like,” his voice wavered and his eyes turned downcast,”him.”

Arnora knew that look. This wasn’t the first time the two had had this conversation. As the pregnancy progressed Snotlout’s insecurities had only grown with it. She was convinced that his insecurities wouldn’t die down until the baby was here, probably not even then, but she would try her best to try and relieve those insecurities.

“Snotlout-” she didn’t quite know what to say. Sometimes it was easy, but she could see in his face, in his voice, in the way he held her, that this wasn’t one of those times. The best she could do was say what she knew was true, and hope that he believed her.

She was in deep thought, trying to find the perfect words to try and comfort him. “Snotlout, you are a greater man than Spitelout ever was, and you’ll be a greater father than he could ever dream of. You’re a good, kind man. I know that, our friends know that,” she took the hand on her thigh and held it to her stomach, “and they know that.” Almost as to prove her point, Snotlout felt a kick against his hand.

Snotlout’s eyes were glassy and his lips were quivering as he looked down at Arnora’s stomach. He sniffled as his head went to rest on her shoulder, before finally allowing himself to cry, properly. His shoulders shook and his breath shook with it. The hand hanging off his shoulder came up to run its fingers though his hair.

And so they sat, one comforting the other, until the sun rose.

Snotlout felt like he was about to faint.

It had been two hours since Arnora went into labour. Two hours of screaming, panting, and having his hand crushed. Not that he could complain much, after all he was partly responsible for the position his wife was in now, as was so kindly reminding him.

“When this is done,” she panted, “I am going to kill you.” Another contraction hit and Snotlout winced at the grip she had on his hand. He brought her hand up to his mouth and softly kissed it, cringing as another scream left Arnora’s mouth.

One of the three women standing there looked up at Arnora and, in a supportive voice, said, “Just one more push.” She complied, and before long a loud cry flooded the room. The woman from before wrapped the baby up in a warm blanket and gave them to the panting mother, smiling as she told them that it was a boy.

Arnora held their son in her arms. ‘Even like this, sweaty and panting and tired,’ Snotlout thought, ‘she was the most beautiful being in the world.’

She looked up at Snotlout with joyful yet tired eyes, smiling as she shuffled closer to him. “Look,” she said, “isn’t he beautiful?” He was. “Here,” Arnora held the child, his child, out for Snotlout to hold. As he was placed into his father’s arms the baby stopped crying, looking up at him in curiosity. He had Arnora’s eyes. Snotlout couldn’t help tearing up at the sight of his son. His son. He almost couldn’t believe it. In his awe, Snotlout managed to choke out, “Stormlout.” A quiet chuckle filled his ears, “Stormlout?” He met his wife’s amused eyes and, in a teasing voice, replying, “Just let me have this.” Her chuckles died down as her eyelids became heavier. He could see how tired she was, she deserved the rest. “Go to sleep, we’ll be here when you wake up.” Arnora hummed at her husband’s words and allowed her exhaustion to take over, her breath evening out as she allowed sleep to take her away.

Snotlout looked from his wife’s peaceful face, back to his son’s big, curious eyes, his own still wet with unshed tears. “I promise,” he whispered to the boy, “that I will always take care of you, and your mother. I love you both. So much.”

And he knew that he would never break that promise for as long as he lived.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Didn’t know wether or not I should’ve included the whole last part, but I decided to cause I thought it would fit this one shot

#httyd #httyd snotlout #httyd oc #how to train your dragon #snotlout jorgenson

15 notes · View notes

yourssinfullyquiche · 3 years ago

Text

Ixora

Hello, all you beautiful people🥰 This fic is a smutty piece that I've had in my drafts for soooo long, so thank you for patiently waiting😊

Discover these two gorgeous men's weaknesses throughout this spicy headcanon💋

Gavin x You Victor x You

WC: 728

Beta: Quiche TW: NSFW!!! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! 🔞

I hope this piece leaves you feeling hot....😈

Enjoy!

Gavin

Sides of his neck, ears, collarbones

We all know how sensitive he is with his neck wink wink (courtesy to Go See Him).

And I just feel he’s the type to be really sensitive with his ears because it always gets blushy blushy *DIES*.

You softly landed a kiss on his ear lobe, metal clinking against your tongue — that visible hue rapidly appearing.

You licked the outer shell of his ear and whispered sweet nothings causing the blush to spread from his ears to his cheeks.

Him, looking at you, pleading for you not to continue because he knows he’ll end up in a puddle of scorching mess.

Kissing the back of his ear, a faint sound escaped from him. Aww he’s trying so hard not to moan...Baby do you think I won’t make you.

You continued assaulting his ears by sucking, licking and kissing them, noting the soft hums of pleasure escaping from his lips.

You moved further down to the sides of his neck, leaving small smooches before giving a teasing suck to the soft flesh leaving a beautiful reddish-purple mark.

He wanted to stop you but his soft groan said otherwise.

You continued leaving small hickeys — ones that he will remember for days when looking into the mirror, ones that he’ll have a hard time concealing.

His choked groans slowly morphed into soft saccharine moans.

You reached his collarbones, ahhh so perfect, ready to be devoured by purplish marks.

Glancing at his face you noticed his dazed expression, face covered in vermillion hues, defeatingly smiling at your devilish expression.

You licked his collarbone, preparing the canvas to paint your myriads of reds before landing your plush lips against the stretched skin.

You took your time, lapping your tongue against his skin before sucking it hard — wanting to leave a large bruise there.

‘Aaahhhh’ a sweet subtle moan almost like a hard sigh escaped from him, his warm breaths coating your nose.

You pulled back to view a wine red mark blooming before leaning in to lick and kiss it to ease the pain.

His half-lidded eyes widened when you leaned in closer to suck at the same spot again.

An audible moan, released from the depths of his throat while you leave soothing kisses.

You, absolutely loving the colour now — a lighter magnum magenta shade.

Gavin was a mess and he made sure you were a mess too wink wonk.

Victor

Broad chest, nipples, lower abs

Victor’s broad chest is referenced A LOT in the game and for good reason. Cue Swim Date👀

A broad canvas means a mischievous painter is able to “paint” it with a plethora of reds and purples ahem ahem.

Dragging your wet muscle across his milky hue skin, you left sloppy kisses on his skin before sucking the sticky skin, going further and further — leaving a trail of blooming marks — down to meet the buds sticking up cutely.

Victor’s guttural groans filled your spacious room despite him protesting a second ago which only excited you more in your sneaky game.

Mr. CEO seems so classy and elegant, that I’m sure he has some things he would rather not disclose — some that he may not even know.

Lo and behold, you stumbled upon it in your quest.

As soon as you latched your tongue on one of his peach nipples, a sweet high-pitched moan dripped from his lips.

You halted your movements, momentarily surprised by the sudden revelation.

A stark difference to his usual demeanor during sex he was moaning and a loud one.

A pool of excitement bloomed from your core and you wanted to hear more of his dulcet moans.

You began playing with the raised buds — flicking it with your tongue before sucking it playfully; all the while your other hand’s pinching his other bud.

Victor’s gorgeous moans filled the spacious bedroom and his incarnadine cheeks were signs of pleasure.

You could feel his bulge meekly touching your inner thigh

His domineering aura was slowly crumbling under your velvet touch.

After giving his other nipple its due attention, you moved down to yet another playground — his lower toned abs.

Your manicured nails dragged languidly across those defined pecs, feeling rather confident when you eyed him.

Oh, he tried to rein in his dominance but with you cunningly kissing the exposed plane of skin below his navel, grinding against his hard bulge, he’d stopped trying.

You kept teasing him with kisses reaching lower and lower and lower...

A/N: Thank you for reading and welcome new subscribers!❤️ Trivia: Ixora is a flower that some may commonly refer to as “Jungle Flame” or “Flame of the Woods” due to its bright colours, especially red. It represents passion and enhanced sexuality (Google).

Delve into my world

#mlqc gavin #mlqc victor #mlqc gavin smut #mlqc victor smut #mlqc gavin fanfic #mlqc gavin fanfiction #mlqc victor fanfic #mlqc victor fanfiction #mlqc victor headcanon #mlqc gavin headcanon #mlqc smut #mlqc headcanon #mlqc fanfic #mlqc #mlqc li zeyan #mlqc bai qi #mr love queens choice #love and producer #quiche writes

101 notes · View notes

huenjin · 4 years ago

Text

quarter past midnight.

pairing: chan x reader | breakup!au

word count: 6.107 words

genre: angst, smut

tw: heartbreak and break ups, reader is confused af, nsfw content — cunnilingus, overstimulation blowjobs, deep throating, face fucking, unprotected sex. this is just some angsty smut.

note: an old work i edited because i needed to write something angsty with chan and hurt myself, yes. <3

apartment 5005.

you stare at the door for as long as you know, your heart tingling, stretching apart to tear and shatter within you and you know this for sure — you are clearly mad. you are absolutely crazy, but love makes people do crazy things. beyond love, survival instincts to protect oneself in the long run makes people do disastrous things. you are confused, lost and heartbroken. isn't that why you are here? for some clarity in this mist that fogs your mind.

you insert the duplicate key you had into the keyhole and open the door to the abode you once called home, not because it was four walls that provided you shelter but because bang chan lived there.

it was the spring of 2016 when you had fallen in love with this man - the entirety of this man with a crooked smile so cute and a giggle that could open dimensions to him. he stood before a cherry blossom tree with two cones of ice cream, one for you and one for him and asked you out on a date —"let's watch cherry blossoms together, y/n," - and you agreed with not much reluctance. because you were enamoured of chan at the very first glance. a little boy with endless passion and boundless potential all ready to win your heart.

it was a gradual fall from there — falling in love with chan was so easy, so precious. every small action of chan's made you fall for him harder and the fall was steep. you toppled and tumbled happily but the impact of the crash was hard.

It was hard enough for you to have forgotten what breathing was. It was claustrophobic in a room that was wider than an average one. bang chan slowly seemed to have no time for you. so caught up with his own life and to sort that out, he took out his anger at you, the anger he bottled up in front of all the people — almost as if that was normal. funnily, you thought it was normal.

chan loved you. chan loves you. there was no way anything could have changed. the emotions were strong — the emotions are strong — however, it almost seemed like it was contaminated. like the strong colour of potassium permanganate that changes the whole liquid. so exactly, where in the world did you go wrong? how did your relationship reach this stage — this strained stage of your threads ready to snap and let go?

and staring at his open door, you want to know the answer.

you had walk in the rain to reach here. the weather was disastrous. it had rained heavily enough to make you feel more void than you already felt. the rain had hit your body with a certain impact that momentarily snapped you back to reality; yet, you are quick to drift away. with every step you had taken, the world feels like time had drifted to the past, aeons away. the rain merely grows even more intense and your heart sinks.

the rain has left you drenched. your hair strands stick to each other with droplets of water falling from the ends. your vision was blurry and all you had know was to get to chan quicker than ever. like your body being pulled to a force. you had to reach bang chan quick, to ache this void.

and when you do, your heart skips a beat. you take a step back as an act of cowardice and you do not want to knock on his door. you stand in front of his room, puddles of water collecting by your foot from the water that drips from your clothes and your hair. how could you knock when you were conflicted yourself? you couldn't leave chan but you know you had to if you wanted to try finding happiness again. probably with the man himself years later when you both grow up.

it was in the winter of 2016 that you grew to love bang chan for the person he was. that you knew were in love. the innocent, star-eyed boy waited in front of your house unexpectedly in the strong winds of winter. when you come back home late after your work at the grocery store, you find him there, still waiting for you. your heart had ached for the man who sat in front of your house, leaning against your door with his body shivering and his teeth clattering. he was half asleep, holding onto his thick overcoat tightly in an attempt to escape the cold.

"chan," you had called out to him. "chan, baby, wake up."

his delicate eyelids had fluttered open only to see you. the man quickly sprung to his feet, stumbling and losing his balance for a split second. chan fell into your arms and nuzzled himself into your warmth. he looked delicate and everything chan usually tended to not display - of vulnerability, a certain pastel and ethereal kind.

and when his pale arms had wrapped around your waist carefully and weakly and you held him up, you knew for sure that this always chirpy and optimistic man (albeit all the layers of insecurities he had) was going to steal your heart. and he did.

probably that is why it is so hard for you to knock on his door now. the fact that you could set the world on fire with the love you had for him and yet you knew that you had to untie the knot you had in your relationship to find happiness for a while. to find yourself all over again.

after much thought, you knock on his door. you feel cold, both physically and mentally. the water you are drenched in is soaking into your being and you know you are going to catch a cold for sure tomorrow. however, that is the least of your concerns at the moment.

the door is pulled open only for you to come face to face with the man you have fallen so in love with.

bang chan's face instantly morphs into one of concern as soon as he sees you drenched in the rain. he catches hold of your arm and pulls you into his small studio room of his. he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his warmth. you nuzzle into his chest and he gently rubs your back.

"are you crazy?" he asks so softly, that it almost does not feel like he is scolding you. "you walked all the way here in the rain. you are most definitely crazy."

you do not respond, however. chan holds you close and notices your silence. you tug at his shirt and chan keeps you close. it's this warmth you reckon you will miss. for the years you step back, you'll feel like a tourist. you pull apart and you look at him with tears in your eyes, "chan."

he looks at you worriedly. this isn't normal. this isn't normal. this is definitely not normal. you take a step back before continuing, "i'm leaving you."

there. you said it. it's out in the open and you hear it out loud too. the thought that screamed in your head is finally freed and normally, you should have felt lighter. so why is it that you have never felt your heart heavier than this?

you had promised yourself that you wouldn't shed tears yet here you are, unable to stop all those droplets falling from your eyes like a cascade of all those memories.

"what?" chan looks broken.

"i can't do this anymore, chan," you say, looking down, shifting your balance from one foot to another. "it's heartbreaking to be in this relationship. every time i take one step forward now, you hardly have the time to even take two steps back."

"you know my work entitles me to this lifestyle," chan reasons. his voice is cracking and seeing chan this hurt merely makes you want to go to him and shelter and protect him for as long as you live. however, that very act makes you feel lost. not right now. what the two of you need at this minute is a break.

"i know," you look at him with guilt. "i know and yet i can't help but feel a little bit nervous of you never being there. i can't help but realise that your career is definitely way more important to you than i am. i understand that but i can't help but realise that maybe you don't love—"

"don't." chan's voice turns icy. he takes a step forward and you shudder at that moment. why did things turn out like this? why could the two of you not be like any other normal couple out there?

"stay, baby," chan pleads. his hands hold your arms fiercely and he leans over to look at you in your eyes. "i beg of you. stay. we'll make this work, somehow."

"how much more can the two of us try, chan?"

"enough to make this work. you promised me a lifetime of happiness. don't go back on your promise, baby. please."

chan is vulnerable, like a glass ready to crumble into fine dust and you realise how human this man — who seemed to be very nonchalant once — was all his life. in all the time you had dated him, chan had been rarely vulnerable and every time you saw him like that, it made you wonder how the world could ever be cruel to him to put him in such a state. the joke is on you this time for it is you who was hurting the one man you never wanted to let go of, the one man you never wanted the world to hurt.

"i'm hurting, chan. every day i go back home waiting for that one call of yours that never comes. i lay in bed wondering how it was perfect only months back when you pulled me close and rested your head on top of mine as we drifted to sleep. chan, we are not working," you gesture at the two of you, "this relationship is strained, toxic and potentially damaging to our mental wellbeing."

you are crying. your eyes burn and your cheeks are wet. chan looks at you in a shock. his eyes are red and he takes a step back from you, dropping his hands on either side of his body. he looks lifeless for a split moment and you are hurting too much to sort this issue out.

"do you want me to let you go?"

"yes," you say with much pain and sorrow from every word that can rip you away from chan.

"okay." chan takes two steps forward, edging closer to you, "okay. but do me one last thing before leaving me."

you look up at him, wondering if it could be anything that could revoke more memories and hurt you more than it already was. chan couldn't do that. he was in pain too. the two of you manage to be hurting at the same time.

"stay with me tonight. one last time before i say goodbye."

chan closes into you and cups your face delicately. he leans close enough for you to feel his breath fan on your face. his eyes are glassy and they shine in the light. his brown eyes with specks of chestnut hues look pretty. he is so devastatingly pretty.

how is that chan looked so painstakingly pretty to you right before you were about to leave him?

"chan," you sigh his name out like an airy breath of fresh morning hopes. "no."

"why?"

"because then i would want to stay," you whisper into nothing. your heart strings drum and beats quicker. your eyes burn so badly and you want to leave instantly and cry out loudly.

chan presses his lips against yours instantly. his softness melts into yours as you kissed him and he to you like nothing else mattered. you sigh within and bring your hands up only to find home in his soft brown hair. he is everywhere, infiltrating your mind slowly and creeping into everything subconscious.

every contact of his reminds you of everything you had and everything you were ready to miss out on. chan leans closer, and suddenly he is kissing you harder, deeper with a fervent urgent need you had never known.

"chan," you pull away and lean back slightly. "chan, what are we doing?"

"let me make you stay," he whispers into the crook of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.

"but I won't stay," you mumble, sadly. "i can't."

"then, allow me one night to remember everything," chan rasps out. his mouth has found its way to your neck. parting his mouth sinfully, he latches onto the skin at the crook of your neck and sucks. your eyelids close and your eyes roll back.

with chan, it is the small oblivious bliss. with chan, it is possession and yet not. with chan, it is being loved and cherished. with chan, you feel complete and yet crave for so much more.

like the air you blow into a balloon with a hole.

you pull chan closer by his hair and you hear him moan against your skin, the shudder of euphoria running down your spine and only enhancing the heat you felt at your core. yout body needs him as much as your mind craves his being.

chan pulls apart and looks at you, studying your face, every curve and every dip. he wants to remember everything. he begins, "i—" but never continues. rather, he holds your waist and lifts you up. your legs wrap around his waist automatically and almost in an instinct. you wrap your hands around his neck and lean forwards.

your cold thumb grazes the expanse of his cheekbone and your chest contracts. everything is too painful. chan's hand squeezes your waist and you lean forward for your foreheads to touch.

chan still smells like fresh morning with mist and beautiful dew. you blink the tears that threaten to spill as you cup his face. you peck his lips, once, twice and again till you can remember how his lips were with your eyes closed.

chan parts his lips for a sigh and you kiss him. you press your lips against his and you feel him loosen, his arms still on your waist, but this time, his fingers grazed ever so slightly. you let out a whimper when he pulls apart.

the next thing chan does is take you to his bed. He carefully walks across his room, still carrying you and you're looking at him. you look at chan's eyes and you look at his nose. you study his face and your heart aches with every minute you stay.

he places you delicately on his bed and and you watch him stand and pull his shirt up to remove it. the moment seems familiar, the emotion however, is not.

chan matches your body form and you instinctively arch upwards, moaning in the contact of his body heat against yours. you kiss him again and you feel him relax against you, lips softening as he permits you to take his lower lip between your teeth. you suck against his lower lip, moaning into his mouth as he pushes his tongue against yours.

chan's hands trace the sides of your torso, cradling your curves as he finds home in your neck. chan has always liked your neck. his licks, kisses and sudden bites only further enhances your point. your hands go to his hair as you hold him more firmly against you. the swelling of him beneath you makes you gasp and your thighs rub against each other.

chan pulls back for a minute, his fingers playing with the ends of your shirt. you whine greedily and move your hands to pull the shirt off your body. chan helps but he is so slow that you pause and look into his eyes. chan wants this moment to last forever.

he removes the shirt off of you and looks at you, unsure when his fingers trail to your shorts. you place your hands over his and together, you unbutton your shorts. you pull yourself upwards and kissing chan, you say, "i'm staying the night, chan. i'll stay tonight."

the two of you discard the rest of your clothes, undergarments still on, only for him to pause and stare at your breasts, "how did i not notice you not wearing a bra when you were soaked in the rain?" and then he realizes how, pausing for a while. you quickly pull chan closer.

chan rushes to latch his lips back on your skin, sucking and kissing his way from the crook of your neck to the top of your left breast. you rock your hips against his, desperate for some friction. your clit has swollen, moisture already dampening the fabric of your panties.

chan's hands travel to your arse, squeezing the flesh beneath his fingers and grinding you down against the bulge growing in his boxers. a moan escapes your lips even before you could hold it and chan looks distinctly pleased.

"chan," you whine. "chan, please. i need you. touch. kiss. anything. please. i need you everywhere."

he smiles and removes the grasp on your arse, your skin feeling bruised over how tight he was holding you. his fingers trail upwards only to loop around the strap of your panties and he pulls it away from your body slightly only to release it. the strap hits against your skin and you wince.

"you're so delectable," he mumbles and pulls your panties away. you rub your thighs together, feeling your wetness spread. his lips gently graze over your hip bones and land right over your clit, grazing it almost unnoticeably. the sudden contact leads you to grip on chan's arm and cover your mouth to smother your groans.

"do you like this, baby? do you want more of this?" he kisses the skin on your hips, so close to where you craved his attention.

"chan—"

"you could have more of this if you stayed. y/n, just stay, please," he peppers more kisses around, moving his hands up and down your thighs.

"chan, no," you place your hands on his head, tangling your fingers into his hair. "i—"

"why not?"

and then chan's lips find your lower ones and you moan so loud that you didn't know you even had it in you. you pull his hair up of surprise and chan licks your lips up and down slowly and in the most gratifying manner.

"c-chan!"

he doesn't respond. he merely brings his hand down and places his thumb over your clit, pressing down on it as he licks you. he pulls apart to lightly kiss your inner thighs and the sudden loss of contact makes you whine.

"why can you not stay?"

"because it hurts to be with you when you're never around," you sigh, tears rolling down your cheek and chan looks at you from below. he sees you vulnerable and broken and he blames himself. he is as responsible for leading himself to this situation as much as you are.

he holds tight on to your thighs, pulling you closer to him as he plants soft kisses on your dripping core. he sucks and nibbles on the lips before parting them with his tongue, swiping one big stroke and resting on your sensitive nub.

"chan, more, please," you whimper. his sinful tongue feels like heaven on your hot core, and you leave your hands to move around to look for places to grip onto; moving from your hair, to the edge of the bedsheet, until they find their way to his hair again where you make your final grip. you always did like gripping on his hair during sex. it edges him and steers him to do as you pleased. you instantly entangle your fingers through the strands of his locks as you start to move your hips in the same motion as the movements which his lips and tongue are now making.

chan keeps his action of devouring you with hunger, moving his tongue skilfully in and out of you, humming as he went. the vibration only makes you edge a bit more. you close your eyes and focus on feeling him and his motion. and right at the moment, chan feels your grip on him getting tighter. when your whimpers sound more desperate, he moves two fingers inside your walls, curling deep while sucking at your clit. he keeps biting lightly at the swollen nub, making you cry out his name. the moment when he feels you tightening around his fingers, he latches his lips around your clit tightly and sucks, all while thrusting his fingers deep onto your sweet spot, relentlessly, until you see sea of stars from under your eyelids.

"ch—" your breathing shortens and you quake, "oh my god! baby!"

however, bang chan never stops; even when your whole body starts shaking and quivering on his bed. he continues the work of his fingers and his hot, sinful mouth all moving in the same pace, letting you ride out your high until it slowly subsides and you are left, gasping for air, on the brink of overstimulation.

chan finally lifts his head as you open your eyes and you notice. his lips glistening and his eyes sparkling. he runs his tongue across his lips, taking in the last of the remnants of your high. you gulp, admitting that the scene before you is hot. chan doing anything will always be hot.

"fuck my life, i'm so in love with you," chan says and your eyes widen.

"no," you mumble. "you should not be."

"isn't that my decision, baby?" chan says. you lean forward and holding onto his arm sockets, you move him backwards allowing yourself to climb on top of him. you position yourself over his leg and frantically pull his boxers down and away.

"you shouldn't though," you take his cock into your hands. chan stifles a moan. his fingers softly hold your head and stroking your hair as you tease him with your tongue on his shaft. your eyes keep looking up at his face while you drag a slow lick along the base of his member, before swirling your tongue around the tip, earning his subtle grunt and unsteady breaths while he looks at you with darkening eyes.

you lock your gaze on chan and dragging one excruciatingly slow lick, you take his head into your mouth before pulling apart almost instantly. you drag your tongue over your lips and tease, "tell me what you want, baby boy."

chan smiles widely at you and your sudden voice of confidence. he strokes the back of your neck and says, "i want you to stay."

"you're such a buzz—"

"but i know you won't. so i'd rather, just for tonight, have you as a whole. i want your pretty little mouth on my cock, wrapped around it and sucking it. i want you to look like a mess, baby, for me."

you smile at him softly and almost apologetically. shaking your head of any sad thoughts, you place another kiss on the swollen tip of his cock, before giving a long and slow lick at the base of his shaft, coating his member with your saliva, and finally take him completely in your mouth. you hum gladly as your lips move and sink down slowly, adjusting yourself to the size of him, only stopping once you feel his tip touching the back of your throat. the depth and your constant move gifts you with a couple of deep groans coming out of his own lips. you look up to see him, supporting himself up and leaning his head back, enjoying the way your mouth is sucking him tightly. once you are adjusted to the size of his girth, the muscles around your jaw relax a little, permitting you to move your head and sink down low. hollowing your cheeks, you keep sucking him on your way up with flattened tongue, stopping by the time you reach his tip only to sink yourself back down.

"fuck, fuck. fuck, y/n, baby. your mouth feels euphoric," chan groans, his head dropping and his eyes screwing shut. you let out another hum in acknowledgement and respond with another bob of your head up and down his length.

the sound of his ragged breath and his whimpers makes you aware of how fucked out he was. you keep your pace while raking his thigh with your nails from one hand, while you use the other to cup and graze the skin of his scrotum and his uncovered base. until suddenly, he looks down on you while gently stroking the sides of your face with his thumbs before he moves his hips upwards, thrusting deeper into your mouth.

you gag in surprise with his length reaching all the way down to your throat. you whimper against his cock. you keep your tongue still flat and presses against the base of his cock to give him more sensation as he keeps fucking your mouth at a distinct pace. you hold on tightly onto his thighs, scoring them, ignoring the soreness on your jaw and throat to let him chase his high, until he finally explodes inside you. the sudden appearance of his thick, creamy release filling your mouth has you gagging. when chan slows down, you are finally able to carefully swallow every single drop, a few dripping down by the corners of your mouth.

"ah, fuck," he suspires, gradually slowing until he stops and pulls himself out of your mouth. "i'm so sorry— i'm sorry, baby," he tells you between his ragged breaths, sitting up and rubbing his thumb on your face and neck lovingly, over and over again. "did i hurt you? tell me i did not. fuck, i got carried away."

you take hold of his hand and kiss his knuckles, letting out a small chuckle. chan pulls you closer and hugs you and you sit in his warmth. you mumble against his chest, "i hate to be evil, but i hope that no one can give you a blow job or a mind-blowing sex like i could."

chan sighs and holds you tighter, "don't you already have me in your captive?"

the back of chan's hand moves around the edges of your face before he pulls you in and kisses you slowly. he touches the tip of his tongue to yours, teasing at first, before entwining your tongues together. his hand moves down your back and pulls you closer, your core pressed against his cock and you moan against his mouth.

"i'm going to make you come all night. when you tire out, i'll let you rest and have you again," chan whispers against your ear as he pulls apart from your lips.

this was why leaving chan was hard. he was addictive. the taste of his lips, the deep moan he exhaled when he deepened the kiss. you let him intertwine his tongue with yours, let him taste your mouth while you press your palms on his chest to feel his warmth. chan's hand runs freely over the curve of your arse, earning a gasp to escape from your lips, stopping the kiss unexpectedly.

he pushes you back once he had calmed down from his last high and climbs on top of you with a smirk, "i could eat you out again but good lord, you look so fucking delectable that i need to have my cock inside of you — right now."

you gulp and you feel your throat parching. he continues kissing you while settling himself between your shaky legs, groaning against your mouth the moment he could feel your wet folds brushing the tip of his shaft. he leans forward to catch your erect nipple between his lips. he did the same thing to the other breast.

he firmly holds your name and kisses every single part of your body, murmuring softly against your skin, "need to remember. need to remember. fuck, i need to remember you."

you cup his face softly and look at him, breathing slowly in order to force him to do the same, "chan, I love you."

"but you can't stay."

"i can't."

"i need to be inside of you. i need to remember how you felt. i need to engrave it till i know how much you've captivated me and left me miserable," he whispers softly between your kisses, and you buck your hips upward to meet his as a response. you are still mildly sensitive but so needy to feel him inside you.

exhaling, chan pushes his throbbing length between your swollen lips, ever so slowly delving into your hot sex with a low grunt and moan. you instantly hook one leg around his hip, placing both of your palms on his back as you guided him inside you. your soft, hot walls enveloped his length, pulling him in deeper as he thrust his hips against yours and when your being finally envelopes him, he grunts in content.

"i missed this so much," he whispers to you, pressing your foreheads together as you pant softly against his lips, trying to regulate your breathing. "i'll miss you, baby."

chan waits until you adjust yourself to his length. no matter how many times you have had sex with him, his girth still surprises you. you notify him by pecking on his lips with your eyes flickering up to him and staring at him with lust and want, and chan knows you are ready.

he moves slowly in and out of you in a calculated rhythm, almost like he was playing his own music, never looking away. he pulls his hips back and then thrusts forward, filling your hole as much as possible once your body recognises his being.

"fuck," chan grunts. beads of perspiration have formed on his neck and slowly they drop down and you watch. chan looks precious and for a minute there, you want to stay. you want to stay with chan forever, marry him and have his kids. you want to be there in his highs and lows. but you know you shouldn't. he deserved better and so did you.

"oh god, y/n," he moans, gripping your thigh harder. he keeps on grinding his shaft into your wetness with more fervour and all you could do is —

"chan!"

scream his name out for everyone around to know.

he sighs, moving his hips into yours a bit faster as you begin to meet his thrusts with the movements of your hips. he lets go of you and drops both of his hands down to the bed on either side of you, holding himself up and increasing his range of motion; pulling nearly all the way out, then rocking forward to push all the way back into his base.

your fingers keep holding tight on his shoulder and his upper arm, lightly scratching your nail on his skin. he leans down to press his mouth to you, kissing you hungrily. he moves into you harder and even faster, scrunching the sheets up under his palms while driving his shaft deep into you.

your soft moans grow higher in pitch and you bite into your lower lip harshly. you become louder as you feel your high approaching. "chan, baby, fuck," you rasp out and chan kisses your clavicle and licks a stripe, leaving a bruise by its end.

"let go, baby," he moves his hands back on your hip with a tight grip, helping you to move in the same rhythm as his. you grip harder on his arms for leverage. you feel him grinding your clenching walls with his shaft inside of you until you can not take any more, and your entire body shakes from the second climax of the night.

chan starts to slow down yet keeps thrusting forward, so gently and disoriented. he smiles before kissing you deeply once again. he groans at the feeling of your walls clenching hard around his shaft, your orgasm lingering even after your body had stopped shaking so much. leaning down, chan presses his body hard on you while he kisses you, and you can feel his member throbbing within your depths and his heart pounding fast in his chest. his brown eyes look softer tonight and his eyes are glassy. you cup his face and kiss him repeatedly. you hold him steady while he pushes into you languidly. you can't seem to part with him — is this what love does?

you move your hips. you can feel your desire still dripping hot in your core and more than ready to continue on. "keep going. i want to feel you come inside me, chan."

his hips, hitting against your clit repeatedly, makes you woozy with tensed and excess euphoria. it is too much but you couldn't stop. you guide him into you, over and over again even when your walls seemed to scream out of exhaustion. you needed to feel chan in you, fill you up.

you wiggle your hips and raise them to meet his warmth. smiling, you bend your knees up to help him reach his high quicker.

you hold onto the moment he starts to move his hips one more time, drilling inside of you with both of his hands planted on the bed once again for grip. this time, you keep your eyes opened. you gasp and enjoy how beautiful his toned body looks, moving above you fluidly. silently admiring how his skin is glowing from the illuminating moonlight which enters the room through the opened windows, how they had fallen perfectly on his sweaty chest against the background music of the rain hitting the window panes.

you let your eyes capture its beauty, memorising him and everything else the best you still could in your mind. just so you could keep the image of him making love to you for as long as you possibly could in your memories. after all, this is it. this was the end of the lane, the last page in the chapter you shared with him.

you graze chan's chin and watch how he moves into you. you close your eyes for a second - just for a second - to hear distinctly of the squelching sound of his cock entering you and his hips slapping against yours.

he tilts his head and gives you a few sloppy kisses by the edges of your neck and then your mouth. your eyes screw shut with the overload of euphoria. you are oversensitive and tears spill out from your eyes. chan thrusts a few more times into you before reaching his own orgasm that washes over him like a wave. you feel his cock pulsate and a shiver of pleasure runs down your spine. his movements become slower. he grunts and moans in each motion of his and you lean forward to kiss him. after a few deep and long kisses, he steadies himself and pulls out of you carefully. he kisses you a few more times — your lips, neck, clavicles, breasts and everywhere.

chan falls besides you and sighs. he cups your face and looks at you. your eyes are closing in exhaustion and you whimper, "i'll miss this."

chan remembers that this is the last time and pulls you closer, a lone treacherous tear falling on your face. he watches you carefully and you softly smile, "you should sleep. you have practice tomorrow."

"no, it's my last day with you. i'd rather watch you than waste time sleeping," he sounds sad and you move closer into his warmth.

"i really do love you, chan."

"i know and so do i. our circumstances just weren't right. don't beat yourself to it," he mumbles, pushing a strand of your hair from your face.

"nor should you. promise me that you won't overwork yourself?"

"i—"

"chan!"

"just go to sleep, baby. you look tired. i love you," chan coos and you yawn almost immediately. he laughs and rubs your back soothingly and you fall asleep. chan does too, soon after.

and when his eyelids part the next morning, the bed feels cold and his heart feels the void. you are gone and chan is lonely as he has been always.

#straykidsland #chan smut #stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids hard hours #skz hard hours #kpop smut #bang chan smut #bang chan #stray kids #skz #chan x reader #chan fic #chan scenarios #chan imagines #skz imagines #skz scenarios #writings.rue

608 notes · View notes

trueshellz · 4 years ago

Text

First times with Daichi Part 2

Part 1

First time having sex

You were on a mission to seduce your long term boyfriend. You had explored every part of his amazing body, been on your knees for him and had his mouth on you while he bought you to orgasm multiple times but you really wanted him to fuck you. But he had always put it off, not wanting to rush you and wanting to respect your boundaries. Which would be cute as hell but now you were just horny. So tonight, you were going to dress sexily and seduce him... in theory.

Buying some sexy lingerie in his favourite colour, you had bathed and shaved everything and worn his favourite perfume. The lingerie was a cute teddy with matching lace shorts, the cups were sheer and didn't cover much but you guessed that was the whole point. You had invited Daichi over to yours for "dinner" and pulled on a t shirt and some denim shorts to cover yourself.

Under the pretense of dinner cooking, you both sat on the sofa and watched an old movie. Slipping away, you went to your room and undressed, checking your make up one last time you before you quietly went back to the living room. His reaction was comical, spitting out his drink and almost choking as he took in your outfit.

"Ba-baby." He coughed and thumped his chest a few times as you perched yourself on his lap. "Baby, what are you wearing?"

You felt your heart lurch into your throat, looking down at him with a sad face. "You... you don't like it Daichi?"

"Like it?" He stroked a finger over your nipple, rubbing a hand up you thighs and over your ass as he pecked you on your lips quickly. "Baby, I love it. But... what's the occasion?"

Running your hands up his torso, you smiled as you felt him groan. His hands now rubbing the space between your ass cheeks as you slowly grinded on him. You leaned forward and licked his neck, whispering in his ear. "Fuck me. Please?"

Holding you back by your shoulders, he held your chin in his hands. Forcing you to look at him in the eyes. "You sure? You don't owe me, I won't be the type of guy who forces you. I can wait, sweetheart."

You shook your head, removing his hands from your face and tugging at his t shirt, pulling it over his head before tracing his abs and pecs. "I want you, please Daichi." Taking his hand, you ran it over your breasts and down to your pussy, placing it inside your underwear. You breath hitched as he began stroking you slowly, fingers circling your clit as your head dropped forward onto his shoulder.

"You're such a naughty girl dressing up and seducing me y'know that? Here's me thinking you were my good little girl. But you're a little tease aren't you baby?"

Your breath caught in your throat as he reached to the front of your teddy and unclipped the clasp holding your breasts secure. His mouth sucking your nipple deeply as he hummed against your skin.

"Look how wet you're getting, fuck. You want me fill this needy little pussy up huh?"

Holy fuck where had this come from? Daichi had dabbled in some dirty talk with you before, mumbling as you sucked his cock down your throat, but this was something else. His mouth sucked your throat as he licked and bit you skin, your hands threaded themselves in his hair as you began moving against his fingers.

"Fuck baby, lookit you riding my fingers. Need me to fill this pussy up don't you? Hmm?"

You whined as he moved away, bringing his fingers up to his mouth and licking them clean as he flung your outfit to the floor. He picked you up bridal style and walked to the bedroom, laying you down slowly he caressed your legs. Kissing your calves and thighs as he pulled down your shorts, Daichi was determined to make this good for you. He knew first times hurt, but he'd be damned if he hurt you more than necessary.

"Keep your legs open for me okay baby?"

You gasped as he sucked your clit, fingers running up and down your thighs as he licked and flicked it with his tongue. Rubbing your wet hole with his thumb, he pressed in gently and waited, letting you get used to the intrusion.

"If you change your mind you let me know okay?"

You nodded quickly, hands finding purchase in his hair as you titled your hips up, wanting his sinful mouth back on you. "Don't stop please, it feels so good."

Circling your opening, he began moving his thumb in and out, replacing it with a finger instead as he reached for that spot that made you clench around them. Using his free hand to pinch your nipples, you body arched at the multiple assault of your senses.

"So tight baby, I'm gonna have to stretch you to take my cock."

Adding another finger, he started moving them upwards, your body rebelling against the intrusion at first. Not being used to the force he was using, but soon as he began sucking your clit harder. The stretch morphing into a pleasant thrum under your skin as pleasure overtook your senses.

"Daichi...please don't stop." You let out a long groan as he began finger fucking you in the earnest, your hands scrambling for purchase on the blanket as you felt your body tighten.

"Dachi... 'm gonna... 'm gonna cum. Oh God. Ohgodohgod... don't stop please."

Back arching as you.felt your body light up with pleasure, mouth open in a silent scream as you felt your body twitching and shaking.

"Thats it baby, come all over my fingers."

Mannouvering up, he stripped himself of his remaining clothes while keeping his fingers inside you as he pulled on a condom. Rubbing his dick up and down a few times, he leaned over and took your mouth in a hard kiss. Stroking your tongue with his own as he pressed inside you, swallowing your groan as you felt yourself stretch around him.

"Nearly there baby. That's it, take my cock like a good girl."

Hand reaching down you rub your clit, you widened your legs to ease some of the pressure. Daichi using this opportunity to hold your legs open as he pushed into the hilt. God you had never felt so full, you could feel him pulse inside you as he moved slowly at first. Urged on by your whimpers and seeing your hand moving between your own legs, he began fucking you in the earnest. His groans mixing with your own as his hips pistoned inside of you, reaching up to pull him down to your mouth as your leg was flung over his shoulder. This new position hitting a different spot inside you.

"Feel good baby? You wanted my cock didn't you? Wanted me to fuck this greedy little pussy. Can feel how wet you are baby, dripping down my balls as I fuck you."

"Daichi... mmm.. you feel so good. So good, oh my god. Don't stop, don't stop please. Please please please."

You could feel the familiar twinge between your legs spreading all over your body, his mouth swallowing all your gasps and moans as he felt your body stiffen. Arching your back, the feel of your body clenching around him was enough to send him over the edge.

Well, guess that plan worked super well.

First fight

You had planned for Daichi to meet your parents for a while, but they always seemed to be busy. You knew their jobs were demanding but you thought they would want to meet your boyfriend, the guy you loved and were serious about. It took two months of planning for your schedules to match up and you finally managed to organise lunch at a restaurant. You had both dressed up, you in a cute dress with matching heels and Daichi in a fitted suit and tie. You couldn't help but smile as you saw how nervous he was.

"Stop stressing babe. They'll love you because I do."

"Yeah? I hope so."

Lunch had started well enough, you all engaged in small conversation about your lives and dreams. But when Daichi mentioned his life playing volleyball and his dream of becoming a police officer, the mood on the table dropped quickly.

"A police officer? Will you be able to support our daughter?"

"Dad? I-"

"Sir, I don't understand-"

"You think working such a lowly job is going to provide for my daughter? Not only did you waste your life on a useless sport, you're now going into a terrible career with poor job prospects."

"Dad! I can work and help with the bills. Why should it be his responsibility only?"

Your mother who has been quiet most of the dinner, suddenly stood up and placed her napkin on the table. "If you'll excuse us, I'm afraid I've seemed to have lost my appetite."

"Mum! What do you mean? You're joking right?"

The drive back to your apartment was tense, the atmosphere in the car was a huge contrast to the excitement that you had felt on the way there. You could see his knuckles white as he clutched the steering wheel, face drawn in anger as he drove. You jumped as he smacked the wheel with his hand.

"I'm never going to be good enough for you."

"What?"

"Getting a lowly job to support you. Making you work to help us out. Your parents are never going to approve of this relationship."

"Are you serious right now? I love you. I don't care about my parents."

As Daichi parked the car, you rushed to follow him as he stormed to the apartment. Pulling off his tie, you saw him run his hands through his hair and grit his teeth. You couldn't believe how rude your parents were, how judgemental they had been of him. You loved Daichi, you wanted spend your life with him.

"And you!" He whirled around to glare at you, you'd never seen him so angry. "You didn't even defend me."

"What the fuck Daichi? All I did was defend you. They're my parents, what did you want me to do."

"Take my side! Instead you said you'll get a job and made me look even more useless. Now they think you're settling for a poor loser."

You stormed up to him and poked his chest with your finger, you could feel tears of anger and frustration threatening to fall down your face. "Don't you ever say that again. I love you Daichi Sawamura. I don't care about my parents or what they're gonna say. I don't care about money or having a job. I care about you. I wanna marry you. I wanna have babies with you." You couldn't stop the tears this time, quickly the anger blended into sobs as you collapsed into his chest.

Daicho had frozen, not only had he been selfish and made you cry but he tried to digest what you had said. You wanted to marry him? Have babies with him? Him? He felt his throat close up as he tried to swallow the lump in his throat as he held you close.

"Baby, baby look at me."

You shook your head as he pulled you into his chest. His arms wrapped around you and rocked you side to side. You couldn't fathom how this day had turned out so badly, you didn't care about your parents and their thoughts. You had never agreed with their views on society and they had disapproved of alot of things you did. But you thought seeing you happy, they would accept him.

"I'm sorry. Baby, I'm so sorry. I'm such an idiot. Shhhhhh, it's okay. I didn't mean to yell at you."

You sobs became hiccups as your tears stopped, you clutched the back of his shirt as he held you. "I love you Daichi. Fuck everyone else."

"I know baby. I know. I'm sorry."

Daichi promised himself that day that he would spend the rest of his life making you happy. He never wanted to see you cry again because of him.

#daichi x y/n #daichi sawamura #daichi x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu headcanon #daichi headcanon #haikyuu!!#daichi x you

207 notes · View notes

duvetsandpillows · 4 years ago

Text

Lucky One

Pete Davidson x Reader

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Swearing, mention of needles, slight angst, drug use

A/N: This is my first Pete fic but I think I will definitely be writing more. Please let me know what you think!

I sat in bed, joint in one hand, lighter in the other. I’d been staring at the wall for the past half hour or so, drowning in my thoughts, forgetting the joint I’d been fiddling with was there to be smoked.

I was thinking about everything and nothing all at once. Have I taken my antidepressant? What do they do with the bagel holes? You’re gonna be alone forever. Don’t forget your earring is behind the back left leg of the desk. New thoughts beginning before the last one could end. I was exhausted yet I hadn’t done anything to warrant feeling so drained. I’d only left my bed to piss.

“Hey you home?” I glanced over at my door, reality setting back in, before realizing how messy my bed was; sketchbook and pencils scattered everywhere, weed crumbs and ash from not paying attention to what I was doing and empty monster cans. I kicked as much as I could off the end of the bed before putting the long forgotten joint to my lips and sparking it. The door slowly opened, Pete standing in the doorway holding a bag and a coffee.

“Whatcha doing in bed B?” he asked climbing into the bed handing me the coffee. I took a toke and thanked him while passing him the joint.

“I just don’t feel like moving. I feel like shit, my brain won’t stop for just a second. I just want everything to stop.” My voice breaking as I began to fight back tears. He blew smoke into the air, putting his arm around my shoulder, pulling me into his side, handing me the joint.

“Breathe B, you’re gonna be okay. I know that sounds like bullshit but I’m here to help you through it.” I took a take and wiped a stray tear from my eye. “It’s always been me and you hasn’t it, that’s not gonna stop now. Did you take your antidepressant today?”

“I can’t remember,” I squeaked, letting the tears win the battle. Pete put his other arm around my chest and squeezed tight, resting his hand on the back of my head and rubbing his thumb.

He would whisper little pick me-ups every few minutes while I cried. “At least you didn’t walk straight into a street light like I did.” I looked up to see him pointing to a small bruise on his forehead. “I saw a woman carrying a dog in a baby sling thing and then boom! Street Light.” I giggled before taking a deep breath and wiping my tears with my sleeves.

“I guess you could say she threw you off your rhythm.” He rolled his eyes and pushed my head playfully before chuckling.

We’d been friends practically our whole lives, yet it was rare for us to talk about deep shit. Not because we didn’t care but we were good at talking each others minds off all the bullshit.

“Movie, smoke, munch? I brought gushers and twizzlers.”

“Only if I get to pick.”

“Obviously, you always pick.” I scoffed and sat up, rolling my eyes.

“Bullshit, we constantly watching The Mule.”

“Not my fault you can’t appreciate a masterpiece,” he said as he grabbed my rolling tray from the end of the bed and I began flicking through Netflix for something to watch.

“Your hair looks nice by the way,” he mumbled, eyes focused on rolling the joint. I glanced over at my reflection in the mirror, I looked as if I’d just climbed out of the hedge. I smiled and thanked him, deciding to put on Knocked Up.

Pete told me what he’d been up to all week and who the guests were gonna be while we watched the film. I made him a twizzler ring and he attempted to make me a bracelet but he couldn’t work out how to get the knot to stay tight.” After a couple more joints I sat up on my knees and faced him.

“Could... I maybe colour in your tattoos?” I asked, placing my hand on his leg to stay balanced, realizing how high I was after not moving for so long.

“Yeah of course, which one first?” I smiled and pointed to the unicorn on his arm and leant off the end of the bed to grab my pens, Pete grabbing hold of my foot as I almost fell off. After I’d finished the unicorn I moved onto the direwolf underneath. Pete was flicking through the pages of my sketchbook as I added icy blue to the eyes.

“Y’know,” he started, passing me a joint, “I reckon you could be a tattoo artist. You could even practice on me.” I stopped and looked at him a bit taken back.

“I’ve never thought about it before.”

“Maybe you should.”

Once I finished the direwolf I looked up to see Pete had dozed off, I smiled and pulled a blanket over him, moving the sketchbook off his lap. I rolled a joint and glanced at the open drawing of a group of clouds I’d been working on but hadn’t yet worked out what should accompany them.

I thought about what Pete said and picked up the sketchbook and a pencil. I smoked while drawing Frank the bunny’s head from Donnie Darko. It was my favourite film and Pete had watched it with me countless times.

After an hour or so I finished the outline and most of the infill with different shades of blue. I felt Pete roll over and put his arm across my lap. I looked down to see him, eyes half open, observing my drawing.

“That’s amazing.” His voice gruff and low.

“Thank you,” I said passing him a monster from my bedside table. He sat up partially and took a sip before handing it back to me. “Good nap?” He nodded and laid back down into my side.

“You should put that on me,” He kicked his leg out from under the blanket and pointed to the side of his thigh. “Here would be perfect.”

“If you’d like.” He sat up again and gently tore the sketch out of the book.

“Come on then.” I frowned and tilted my head slightly. “There’s a guy that could do this now, you could get one too?”

I stared at him in a bit of shock, not expecting him to actually want one of my pieces on his body. I thought he was saying it just to be nice. Also as I’d never considered getting a tattoo before. Not because I didn’t like them but more because I was nervous; I wasn’t great with needles and if tattoo’s would suit me.

“You up for it?”

“What if I look awful with one?” I blurted, Pete’s smile morphed into confusion.

“Why would you look awful?” You always look great.” I could feel my cheeks getting warm and I couldn’t help but ever so slightly smile. “Plus I think you’d look hot with one,” he mumbled handing me the sketchbook, open to a small drawing of a sheep I’d done high while watching Shaun the Sheep.

“It’s small, if you want it to be hidden then it’s easy.” I looked down at the doodle and thought about it for a moment.

“Fuck it lets go.”

I sat on a chair next to Pete watching as the tattoo artist, Jon, carefully traced over the light purple outline in dark blue ink. I began adding to my sheep. A few clouds in the background, similar to the ones on Pete’s.

“What you doing?” I handed him the paper, glancing over at his leg, in awe at how it was turning out. I looked back at Pete who was smiling at the drawing. I held out the pencil to him, when he didn’t notice I poked his arm with it.

“Ow, dick,” he said pouting and rubbing his arm. “What am I meant to do with this?”

“Add something to it, you got a piece of me,” I pointed to his leg. “Your turn.”

“I can’t draw like you and-”

“And I don’t care. Draw.”

While Pete drew, not phased at all by the needle going in and out of his leg, I chatted with Jon, asking him question about how he became a tattoo artist and what it’s like. I was slowly becoming more interested the more I watched him work. Once he was done he turned to me.

“You ready?” he asked, I nodded nervously and Pete passed him the design. Pete swapped places with me after taking a look at it in the floor length mirror. I decided to get it on my arm as I decided I wanted to always be able to see it now Pete had added to it. I told them I didn’t want to see it until it was finished, wanting Pete’s addition to be a surprise. I looked over at Pete, nerves starting to kick in a little.

“Have I ever told you I’m not brilliant with needles?” He chuckled and took my hand in his.

“Yep,” I winced as the needle hit my skin. “Like the time you gave blood because you thought that nurse was cute and threw up all over him before fainting.” I chuckled before biting the inside of my cheek and gripped his hand tight. “You’re good, just keep your eyes this way,”

Pete kept chatting with me and rubbing his thumb on the back of my hand, keeping me distracted from the pain.

“Should I be nervous with what you drew? It’s just clicked how much trust I’ve given you.” He pursed his lips, holding back either as smile or a laugh. “Pete...”

“Nah nah nah, it’s not that bad, but you said to add a bit of me. Trust me you’ll love it.” I raised my eyebrows before gripping his hand again, feeling a muscle in my arm unintentionally spasm.

“You’re good, it happens sometimes, we’re almost done here.”

After ten more minutes it was all done and he was wiping it up. It was aching it a little but I was really excited to see it.

“You ready to see it?” I nodded and looked at my arm to see the best tattoo I could imagine. The clouds were a beautiful combination of greys and whites, my sheep now with a spliff in its mouth and a second, slightly wonky looking, sheep with a spliff also in its mouth and sunglasses on. It kind of looked like a child drew the second sheep but I loved it even more for that.

“I put our initials at the bottom so we don’t forget who is who.” I giggled looking at his scruffy handwriting underneath. “So... what do you think?”

“I fucking love it!” I said wrapping my arms around him hugging him as tight as I could. “Thank you Pete.” I pressed a kiss to his cheek and let Jon wrap my arm up in cling film.

We grabbed some Taco Bell on the way home, I was designated DJ and he driver. I was, questionably, rapping along to Colson and Corpse’s new song while Pete laughed at me. He slipped his hand into mine, giving it a small squeeze and continued driving and started rapping along as if that was a normal for us to hold hands. I smiled and gave his a squeeze back even though I was a bit shocked. Shocked but yet it felt normal.

“You can roll the next one, my arm aches,” I said flopping onto my bed.

“Is that gonna be your excuse for the next week?”

“Did it work?” I looked up to see him shaking his head and chuckling as he picked up the rolling tray.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.” I smiled and winked as it sat up.

“You’re lucky too, you get to look at this cute face all the time.” Pete leant forward and took my hand, pulling me into his lap.

“What would you say, if I asked you out... to dinner or something?” I wrapped my arms around his neck and furrowed my eyebrows.

“What like a date?” His smile and confidence drained from his face immediately and I had to force myself to hold back a laugh.

“It doesn’t have to be no, I just- aw fuck.” I started pissing myself laughing, holding onto him tight to keep my balance.

“Yes I’d love to go on a date, if you hurry up and roll that joint, I teased winking at him, swinging myself off his lap. “I’ll even put on The Mule yeah?”

“I’m definitely the lucky one.”

#Pete davidson imagine #pete davidson x reader #pete davidson x you #fuffy #angst

198 notes · View notes