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sleepwalkersqueen · 4 years

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(Ignore this post, it’s just fucking... headcanon fluff.)

- Let’s just imagine... what it’d be like, if Enji had been a wholesome dad!

[Calculating 16 years back in the canon: Enji was 30, Toya was 9, Keigo was 7 (Rumi was 11) ]

- Enji saved Keigo from an abusive home, but when the HPSC notices Keigo’s bloody potential and wants to buy him... Enji just - adopts Keigo.

- Rei was angry about his sudden desicion: Because they already had huge responsibility with their other children! - But then she saw the tiny malnourished child who just escaped the abuse, without a home or anyone to turn to- and her heart just snapped.

- Tiny Keigo knew he wasn’t wanted, so he made himself smaller and bowed to her. - But Rei just fell to her knees and hugged him really, really close.

- Toya next to them was like: “Yeah... actually, I wanted a dog - but a bird’s fine too.”

- The whole family went shopping to buy a bunch of wing-fitted kid-clothes. Kei’s just happy to have clothes and’s still too shy to ask for anything specific so fucking Toya ends up deciding what he tries on. Fuyumi next to them is like: “Tou, That’s just black. There’s no color- Wait- I think thats a mini-skirt, what the- What do you want with the lipstick!?” - Enji has to bring half of the clothes back.

- Enji starts to read guidebooks about therapheutic parenting for Keigo, but ends up overwhelming all of his kids with love and attenttion. He talks with Keigo that its okay to cry when he feels like it, but Keigo still just swallows everything down and is scared to make noise.

- Rei and Enji made sure Keigo’d eat and sleep enough, helped him preening his wings and constantly reasurred him that his accidental lil chirps are nothing to be ashamed of.

- But in the first month, instead of playing with his new siblings, Keigo constantly helps with hard work in the house and gardens without getting asked and doesn’t stop until they tell him to. Toya asks him about it at night. Keigo admits that he loves this place more than anything and is horrified of being tossed out again, so he tries to be worth their money.

- Toya punches him (softly, with love) in the face and tells him that he’s part of the family, even if he’d burn down down their house.

- Keigo feels like a stone falling from his chest, but the fear just doesn’t go away. One day he helps Enji do the dishes and he breaks a plate. And his whole world just cracks with that plate. He’s starts trembling and is like- “You can hit me and all, but please don’t toss me out!”

- Toya heared that and he’s like :O And Enji’s like >:O

- And then Toya stares at his father, grabs a plate and smashes it to the floor so it breaks. He grabs Keigo’s hand and screams: “If you wanna punish Kei, you gotta punish me too!”.

- Enji just hugs both of them, holds them really close: “Kei, we won’t ever toss you out, we love you and you’re a Todoroki now. That was just an accident. And Tou- I’d never hurt one of you!” - Touya’s like: “I know, I just wanted to smash a plate”

- After that Enji takes a day off and they all just play in the gardens. And one moment, Keigo just stops and looks at them laughing about a really bad joke he just made and he thinks: “Woa, I’ve a family now!” And he’s so happy, he starts crying. It’s the first time he cried since a long time, and it’s because of joy.

- Enji isn’t the no. 2 hero, since he spends more time with Rei and his kids. So he moves between 2nd and 4th place in the rankings, but he really doesn’t care.

- He is still a kinda-dick to the public, but he actually talks about his family, when you ask him about them. (”Yes, my family is way better than yours. Are you blind?” *Pulls a picture out of his wallet* “Just look at my amazing sons and this pure-hearted angle of a daughter. Now out of the way, my wife said I should grab milk on my way home.”) And when he comes home can’t but smile when he sees Rei and his kids. He is really proud of them.

- Enji helps Natsuo with his homework and he makes soba with Fuyumi, plays referee for a sparring-match between Keigo and Touya. But neither of them accepts their limits or defeat, escalateing their fight until it get’s so heated, that Enji has to put a end to it, because he can’t see his kids hurting each other like this. So he let’s them fight him instead, forcing them to team up, and even though he just fakes defeat, he sees their potential.

- The kids are super scared sometimes that he doesn’t make it home after a huge fight, but Enji always returns to read the bed-time story before giving good-night-hugs, So they don’t have nightmares.

- Shoto is born and he’s allowed to sleep in his parents bed. So the other siblings want the same and they fall asleep in a puppy-family-pile. Enji sleeps half on the floor that night.

- Natsuo sees in a TV documentary that male baby-chickens get often killed instandly after they hatch... And so he freaks out, cries and hugs Keigo, like wanting to protect him. - They need the whole night to reassure him, that Keigo is in fact, not a chicken.

- One day the kids should help move some boxes up the staircase to Enji’s study. - And Keigo’s is like: “We can do that later, right guys? Let’s go see what’s inside first, play with it and then try if we can make it look like we never opened it. That’ll be fun!”; And Toya’s like: “Fucking finally” - Inside were reports about unsolved crime cases in the city. Toya and Keigo talk about it the whole month. They decide that they wanna become heroes together.

- Enji “trains” with Fuyumi, Natsuo, Toya and Keigo - But it’s actually just goofing around and playing villan-attack. (So they know what to do if someone tries to harm them, but he always watches so noone gets hurt.) Toya and Keigo are the only ones to take the play seriously, since they want to become heros for real.

- Enji tells Toya that there’s no need for him to become a hero, if he isn’t fitted for using his quirk. Toya thinks about this, but works out extremly reffined techniques where he uses his fire more defined to avoid burns.

- Toya and Keigo constantly fight about who’s the strongest. (But they are careful not to seriously hurt each other and instandly stop when the other is down. They also teamed up, when a guy in Natsu’s class stalked and tried to bully him. There isn’t much stronger in this world than their big-bro-insticts.)

- Natsuo always cares for their injuries and then Rei gives the two household chores as punishemt.... - And then they fight about who should do the dirtier work.

- Later they met Rumi hanging around in the dangerous parts of the playground and started a fight about a last soda-can. Rumi just obliterated both of them. (since she is 3/6 years older.)

- Toya and Keigo go to UA and both win the sportsfestival first place in their year. They sparr and work-out together with Rumi. They go to different agencies during their internship and try to out-do each other in solved cases.

- They were supposed to babysit Shoto once. The kitched burned.

- Toya becomes a top ranked hero and the todorokis have a big family dinner twice a week. They always cook together and everything is chaotic but in the good way.

- Toya pierces Keigos ears, because Keigo lost a bet. They start a big fight about it on the stage of the Hero-billboard-charts, live on TV. (- But they do team ups on every big mission to keep their backs safe. They’d litterally die giving the other cover.)

- Enji always tries to get team-ups with Toya, but Toya always dodges. (Because it’s kinda fucking embrassing to work with your dad, who has your baby-pictures in his wallet.)

- They are super fucking happy and nothing will ever change that.

EDIT: If anyone feels like writing this into a fic or something... I’d kiss ya feet and read the crap outta that!

EDIT 2: Like, really man. I need that fluff.

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elareine · 3 years

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Tim realizing that since Jason has been in the pit, Jason is always cold. He cant get warm. Tim throws himself into working this out, there has to be something to warm Jason.

Hi, anon, thank you for your patience. I… took the sappy route with this. Since this got longer than 1k, I posted it on ao3, too.

Attempt One

“How’re you doing?”

Tim eyes the bundle in front of him critically. Jason dropped by his safe house thirty minutes ago, teeth chattering after an encounter with Mr. Freeze, and he only looked marginally better. The chattering stopped; that can be a good sign or a very bad one.

Jason gives him a weak grin. “Alright. No danger of turning into an icicle any time soon.”

Hmm. Tim will see that for himself.

When he moves, Jason lifts a hand in protest. “Hey, no—“

Tim completely ignores Jason’s protests—he’d feel worse about it if it wasn’t the only way to handle injured Bats—and sticks his hand between the isolation blanket and Jason’s neck… just to flinch back. “Holy shit!”

“Nah, it’s—“

“It’s hypothermia, is what it is!” Whatever bullshit is coming out of Jason’s mouth, Tim is not listening. “You’re going into shock! We gotta get some extra heat in here, or maybe actually call the hospital; I’m not equipped for this—“

Jason’s hand closes over his mouth. Tim gives him a second to remove it, then he licks it.

Jason just grins. “As I was trying to say: It’s always like that. My body temperature never went back to normal after daying.”

“Nnr?”

“Never.” Jason shrugs. He looks completely unbothered in a way that leaves Tim incensed. That’s just stupid. Did Jason just accept the fact that he’s in constant discomfort as if that’s not a thing there should be—should be—multiple solutions to, what the fuck. Tim is gonna fix this, so God help him.

Tim is so busy coming up with 315 possible solutions that he even forgets to bite Jason’s hand for a moment.

(Only a moment, though. “Ouch!”)

Attempt Two

“I’m not sure how you think piling more blankets on me will help me raise my core temperature.”

“Of course it’s not.”

Jason raises an eyebrow at the three blankets currently on top of him. “Right. Silly of me.”

Tim rolls his eyes. Men. So ungrateful. “Your core temperature is obviously affected. That’s why I brought heating blankets.” Many, many heating blankets. Jason ends up looking somewhat like a disgruntled duck by the end. Tim has pictures to prove it.

Thirty minutes later, Tim takes Jason’s temperature. Still way, way too low for a human. He sighs. That would’ve been too easy, huh.

“You know,” Jason waggles his eyebrows, “there’s a rather more traditional way of warming up under the blanket.”

Tim swats his head. “Keep it in your pants.”

“Even if I wasn’t, you wouldn’t be able to tell under all these blankets,” Jason tells him mournfully.

Tim decides that retreat is the better part of valor. For today. Just until he can stop imagining what Jason could do to… warm up.

Attempt Three

“A hot bath.”

“…you think I haven’t tried that?”

No. No, actually Tim doesn’t, and his expression must adequately convey that cause Jason throws his hands up. “Okay, no, I haven’t, not really. My place isn’t that fancy.”

“It certainly doesn’t have this tub. Now shoo, get out of these clothes.”

“Why, darlin’, you only ever had to ask.” Without ceremony, Jason pulls off his shirt, then begins working on his belt. “Alright, tell me: What makes this tub special?”

“From observation, I conclude that your resistance to high temperatures has also increased,” Tim begins in an excellent mad scientist voice, just to drop it right after. “Or you wouldn’t be able to wear that fucking jacket in summer. So I engineered a tub that will slowly heat up to a temperature just above 50 degrees Celsius.”

“I sure hope so,” Jason grumbles as he climbs in, unabashed in his nudity, “cause right now it’s really fucking cold, babybird.”

Funny cause Tim thinks it’s definitely getting hot in here.

Hoping his face doesn’t heat up—haha—, he looks down at his phone and activates the heat settings on the tub. “At least,” he says thoughtfully, “we don’t have to worry about accidentally causing a heart infarct or anything like with normal freezing victims. I think.”

“I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that.”

“We’ll take it slow, anyway.”

Almost two hours later, Jason’s skin is red and wrinkled and covered in glitter from Tim’s bath bomb. He’s still cold to the touch.

Attempt Four

“Tea? Really?”

“You like tea.” Jason has been hanging around Tim’s place often enough that the younger man knows. (If there’s a corner of the top shelf just dedicated to Jason’s favorite blends, well, they don’t talk about it.) “And anyway, this tea is special.”

Jason put down the cup. “Tim.”

“Yes?”

“Tell me you didn’t get this from Ivy.”

“I didn’t get this from Ivy,” Tim recites just a little too dutifully. Truthfully, he hasn’t—it’s of his own creation in the lab—but seeing Jason squirm is just too funny.

“The things I do for you, babybird,” Jason sighs and exes about half of it. When nothing obviously terrible happens, he drinks the rest in small, careful sips.

“Nothing?”

“A hint of chamomile—I get that one, soothing—and… bergamot?”

“Yeah, that’s your favorite, right?” Tim’s taking down notes and is only half-listening. “How do you feel? Any warmer?”

When Jason doesn’t reply right away, Tim does look up. “Jay?”

The older man has a slight smile on his face. “A little warmer, yes.”

Tim brightens and jumps up. Jason lets him stick the thermometer under his tongue without any objection. Tim is a little disheartened when it climbs up to 33°C and stays there, again, though he tries to stay focused on the positives: “I guess it’s a start, though. After all, the perception of warmth is just as or more important than the objective temperature.”

“Uhuh.”

“Also, you didn’t turn green, so that’s good.”

“Tim!”

Attempt Five

“Okay, if this doesn’t work, I don’t even know anymore.”

“Please tell me you’re not hooking me up to electrodes.”

“Sorry, that’s too dumb a lie even for me.” Tim is about to demand that Jason takes his shirt off again—an unfortunate side effect of this type of experiment, really, how terrible that he has to ogle those pecs and abs again—when he pauses. “Wait. Is that… a bad thing?”

Which is terrible phrasing for Is this something that was used to torture you? but Jason seems to get it cause he shakes his head. “Nah, just didn’t know you’re into that.”

“I’m not!” Tim isn’t.

…at least, he doesn’t think he is? There’s certainly something to be said about the inherent homoeroticism of applying gel to another man’s skin and attaching electrodes. He’s so caught up in the entire thing—and the way Jason’s muscles jump and twitch when Tim applies his own brand of stimulant ray to them—that he doesn’t notice how quiet Jason is, too.

However, in the end, the thermometer still reads 33°C.

“Fuck,” Tim mutters. “I really thought I had it.”

“Guess I can put my shirt back on.” Jason makes no move to do so.

“Yeah.” Tim is looking at his notes again, trying to figure out where he went wrong. His joking words at the beginning aside, there are still options, avenues for him to pursue. It’s just that these are the most promising ones, and Tim can’t bear the thought of failure. The idea that Jason will just—will just have to live like this, forever cold and disconnected—

He lifts his face when he hears Jason putting his shoes and jacket on. “You don’t have to leave. I can still—“

“Nah, it’s fine. There’re only so many sex jokes I can make before even I can take the hint,” Jason sighs. “Thanks, though, Tim. I really appreciate the effort.” He turns toward the window.

It takes 4.7 seconds for Tim’s brain to catch up with that, and then another 2.4 for it to convince his body to move.

“Jay! Wait!”

The Solution

The afternoon sun throws golden rays into their bedroom. Tim can feel her rays tickle his face, his eyes, so he turns further into the embrace that’s been offered to him all night. Jason doesn’t wake up, just snuffles out a slight snore and pulls Tim half on top of him as if his boyfriend is some sort of overgrown teddy bear.

Tim snuggles into the crook of Jason’s neck contently. In his opinion, there’s no better place to be: His lover underneath him, chest rising and falling with every breath he takes, warm and alive and here for Tim…

Wait.

Warm. Jason’s warm.

Tim scrambles up and frantically reaches for his bedside, where the damned thermometer has a place of pride after the last time he got sick, and Jason returned the favor by taking his temperature every five minutes.

“Babybird…?” Jason’s voice is rough with sleep. Tim feels a little bad about waking him up, but: !!!!

The thermometer climbs. And climbs. When it stops, it reads 36°C degrees.

“That makes absolutely no sense,” Tim whispers, awed.

“Nope,” Jason agrees amiably. “You’ll figure it out, though. Can I have some more snuggles first?”

On the one hand, Tim is dying to look this up in the literature and maybe talk to someone who knows Lazarus Pits better. This doesn’t make sense scientifically, so there has to be some magic involved, right? Perhaps the pits are more into metaphors than they thought, or—there are so many possibilities, and Tim can’t wait to explore them.

On the other hand… Jason’s looking soft and warm, opening his arms for Tim, and he’s smiling. It’s no contest, really.

Tim presses a kiss to Jason’s cheek and sinks back into his embrace, scientific pursuits forgotten.

#elareine writes #jaytim

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extratragic · 3 years

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birthday girl

warning: blood, mentions of an injury. nothing graphic but the mc gets injured.

summary: Joel ends up taking care of you on your birthday

word count: 2.5k

a/n: i felt like i needed to post a sweet joel fic after the not so sweet thots i’ve had today :) anyway this is my first hockey fic so pls don’t be mean lol i’m sensitive. also i went through like six gifs cause i couldn’t decide on one lolol

Being with Joel was weird. Not a bad weird, but your relationship was difficult to explain. The quick version was that you were dating without the labels. That was your choice, though, not Joel's. If he had it his way, the two of you would be coming up on your eight-month anniversary.

You were the massage therapist for the Flyers. Well, the assistant massage therapist. It was more like being an intern, but you got paid. Becoming certified wasn't hard and it didn't take long, and it really did help that Martin Roza, the Flyers massage therapist, was a family friend. You’d been with the Flyers longer than Joel had been in the NHL, and you didn’t want a relationship to mess with your reputation. You were older than Joel by four months. Today was actually your twenty-second birthday, and Martin, along with the training staff, decided that your present was going to be you staying with them on the bench that night.

Everything was going great until halfway through the second period.

Travis was a few feet in front of the boards separating the guys from the ice, and one of the Buffalo players skated up to him. You couldn't tell who had the puck or where it was going until it hit you.

You didn't even process it until your hand was on your jaw and you were facing Martin. You could feel the blood on your palm.

"Tunnel, tunnel!" You said, stumbling over your feet as you tried getting away from the bench.

Raffa quickly put his arm around your shoulders and helped you walk away. You had to get out of Joel's sight, at least. He worried about you a lot and he wasn't shy about letting you know how much he hated seeing you hurt. When the two of you were out one night, someone bumped into you and made you fall, ending up with you scraping your knee. You were almost certain that if Claude wasn't there, Joel would've gone after the guy who accidentally caused the cut. As soon as you knew you were out of sight from fans and cameras, you stopped walking and took your hand off of your face.

"Oh my god, I'm bleeding!" You exclaimed, looking up at Raffa.

"Hold this to the cut, okay? That's a pretty good gash," he said, putting a towel on your face. You whined and held the towel, walking with him until the two of you were in the trainer's office.

“How bad does it hurt?” He asked.

“It hurts. Like, I can feel it but it’s not processing yet,” you told him.

The actual pain didn’t hit until you were sitting down.

“Fuck!” You yelled, pulling the towel away from your face.

"No, no. Keep the towel on your face until I'm ready to clean it. Do you wanna get blood all over your shirt?" He asked as he moved around, grabbing a few things from the cabinets and drawers.

"No," you whined, holding the towel to your jaw again. The white Gatorade towel was slowly being stained with your blood the longer you held it to your face. "Can you hurry up? This hurts," you snapped.

"Well, yeah. A puck hit your face at a high speed. It’s gonna hurt, but I’m gonna help,” he said.

You glared at him and he turned to face you, setting a few things on the table next to you. The next few minutes were silent as he cleaned your jaw and neck, eventually stitching the gash.

"How are you this bad with pain?" He asked.

"I message people. I don't do the whole injury thing," you sighed.

He hummed and nodded, feeling around your jaw, neck, and cheek. “I think you're good, just pretty bruised. Does it hurt to talk?” He asked.

“A little bit,” you answered. “I’m just happy you can move your jaw. And I don’t think you have a concussion. You can go to the hospital if you want to, but you seem okay,” he said once he took his hands away from your jaw.

“Thank you,” you mumbled.

“Of course. You wanna go back out or do you wanna stay in here?” He asked, taking his gloves off and throwing them away. “How much time is left?” You asked.

He held up his finger and walked out of the room, looking at one of the televisions in the hallway. “Three minutes until intermission,” he answered once he was back in the room.

“I’ll go out next period. I’m gonna stay here until then if that’s fine,” you said.

He nodded and grabbed a new pair of gloves, slipping them on. He left after telling you that he was going back to the bench. You leaned back in the padded chair and sighed, closing your eyes. You had no clue how the hell the guys went back to playing when they got a puck to the face. This hurt like hell.

Halfway through intermission, the door swung open and hit the wall loudly. The noise made you jump and nearly drop your phone. You looked at the door with wide eyes, seeing Joel looking at you.

“Oh. Hey, Bee,” you said nervously.

“‘Hey, Bee?’ Your face is bruised and that’s all you say?” He asked.

“Hey, Bee. I got hit in the face with a puck. I left 'cause I knew you’d freak out like you are right now. I’m fine, though. Nothing but a bruise, according to Raffa,” you told him.

After the last fifteen minutes of sitting by yourself and scrolling through social media, the pain had gone down some with the help of the pain pill Raffa gave you, and you were feeling pretty calm about the whole thing.

He huffed and walked over to you, getting down on his knees to cup the uninjured side of your jaw. “I didn’t think it hit anyone. But then I saw that you were gone and then Raffa was gone, and I was so fucking worried. I’m gonna beat the hell out of whoever did this,” he said and you gave him a small smile.

“Raffa said it was Teeks. you can’t beat up a dad-to-be,” you giggled.

Joel groaned and stood up, kissing your head before walking out. “Konecny!” he shouted. You stood up and walked out, watching as he walked over to Travis.

“Holy shit,” Nolan said.

“Shh. Joel’s attempting to be intimidating,” you told him.

The two of you, along with half of the locker room, watched as Joel scolded Travis for a few seconds until he started talking.

“You-- watch where you swing your stupid stick. That flying puck? It hit y/n,” he said.

Travis’s eyes went wide and he looked around the room until he saw you standing across from him.

“I’m fine,” you said, waving your hand to the side.

“You sure? That thing’s huge,” Nolan said and you glared at him.

"I’m fully aware. Thank you for pointing it out, Patty,” you said.

He cracked a smile and shrugged. While Nolan was smiling at you and you were glaring at him, Travis walked over to the two of you.

"I'm sorry, y/n. Is it bad? Like, did it do more damage than that?" He asked.

“It’s fine, Teeks. Seriously. It’s just a bruise and a few stitches. You didn’t mean to hit me,” you told him.

“It’s fine? Just like that?” Joel asked, looking at you with wide eyes.

You raised your eyebrows and looked up at him. “I told you that I’m fine, J. I need you to chill out. Travis would never purposely hurt me,” you told him.

He scrunched up his face and you grabbed his hand, pulling him closer to you to put your hands behind your back. Everyone knew about your relationship, and they stopped questioning it and giving the two of you looks after a few months.

"I’m good. Travis is fine,” you said quietly. He nodded and you looked at Travis. “I’m fine, I swear. Raffa said it’s just a bruise. No concussion, nothing broken. You don’t have to apologize,” you told him.

Nolan and Travis left you with Joel, but Claude and Kevin were quick to take their spots in front of you. They were both there to check on you and make sure you were okay, but Kevin was also there so he could talk shit on Travis. Joel went along with the shit-talking and you rolled your eyes, tugging on his hand. Once Kevin and Claude walked away, you pulled Joel out of the locker room so the two of you were alone.

“You’re sure that you’re fine?” He asked, gently holding your face in his hands.

You closed your eyes and smiled softly, nodding. "I’m okay, J. You have another 20 minutes of hockey to focus on, though,” you reminded him.

“You won’t be out there, right?” He asked.

“Of course I’ll be out there. You’re gonna kick ass and I gotta watch,” you told him.

Joel argued with you, of course, but he gave in when you pulled the birthday card on him. He loved spoiling you and hated telling you no, so it was easy to make him accept that you were going to watch the game from the bench. This time, though, you wouldn't be the one closest to the ice.

The Flyers ended up winning 4-1, and now Joel could finally get you to his apartment so he could be the one taking care of you.

"How about a bath?" Joel asked, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand as he drove towards his apartment.

"That sounds amazing. You have the stuff that I like, right?" You asked.

He smiled and nodded, making you smile. "Do you wanna eat?" He asked.

"Nothing that I have to chew a lot. I'll just snack on things, but you can make whatever," you told him.

Joel scoffed softly and squeezed your hand. As if he'd let you snack on things alone. Sure, he was hungry, but he would just snack on whatever he had in his apartment with you.

"I'm not eating a whole meal without you on your birthday. I'll snack with you. At least we had breakfast together," he said.

"Thank you, J," you said softly, bringing your hands to your lips and kissing the back of his hand.

"Always, baby," he said, kissing your knuckles.

When the two of you got to his apartment, Joel went straight to the bathroom to get the bath ready while you made smoothies for now and snacks for later.

"What are we eating?" Joel asked, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind.

"We're having smoothies while we're in the bath. You know that I hate eating in the bath," you said.

He chuckled and kissed your shoulder, watching as you put together two plates full of fruit and whatever food you felt like you could eat on one plate, putting the fruits and some different snacks on the other plate. It was obvious that Joel's plate was the second and he smiled when he realized that you weren't going to let him eat the same thing as you. If you were at Joel's place, he was never hungry. You even bought groceries sometimes since you were over there so much, and he eventually caught on to everything that you bought for him and for you, and he'd do the grocery runs when food was running low.

Once you finished making the plates, you put them in the fridge and went to the bathroom with Joel. While you stripped and got into the tub, Joel only took his shirt off.

"Aren't you getting in?" You asked, pouting at Joel when he turned to walk out.

"Give me a few minutes, okay? I'll be right back," he said, softly pecking your lips before leaving the bathroom.

He was gone for about five minutes before he walked into the bathroom and got into the bath with you. He sat behind you, happily letting you rest against his chest. The two of you sat in silence for a little bit, just soaking in the hot water together.

"Thanks for winning, by the way," you mumbled, playing with his fingers.

He kissed the crown of your head and hummed. "Good birthday?" He asked.

"Top five, easily. Would be top three but I got a puck to the face," you said and he chuckled.

You grinned and tilted your head back, puckering your lips. Joel leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. He kissed your cheek next, placing multiple kisses on your skin and over your bruise, careful to avoid the stitches. You giggled when he nuzzled his face in your neck and placed a few kisses there.

"Want me to wash your body?" He asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

You rolled your eyes and scoffed. "I did that while you were gone. But I could wash yours," you offered.

"Oh, for sure. Switch me," he said, putting his hands on the sides of the tub.

You laughed and slid back, taking his spot after he got out of the tub and quickly climbed back in, laying back against your chest. You grabbed the soap and one of the washcloths, washing his upper body.

"Didn't you do this at the rink?" You asked.

"Like, a basic shower. This is so much better," he said.

You smiled and shook your head, kissing his shoulder when the soap was rinsed off. "Can I lay on you?" He asked. You didn't answer him verbally, choosing to pull him back instead. He sighed when he laid back on you, closing his eyes once his head was on your shoulder.

Once the smoothies were gone, the two of you got out of the bath. You went to get the plates from the fridge while Joel drained the water. You got to his room right before him, your eyes lighting up when you saw what he had done.

"Joel," you said softly, looking around his bedroom.

The soft blanket that was usually on his couch was on the side of the bed that you slept on, along with a heating pad and one of his many extremely soft pillows. Your pajamas- one of his shirts and a pair of boxers- were laid out on your side of the bed. There were two candles, ones that weren't usually in his room, on his nightstand and dresser. All of your skincare products were sitting in front of the mirror. Once you started spending more time at his place, he went out and bought everything that you had in your bathroom so you could have everything at his place, too.

Joel wrapped his arms around your waist, careful to not let your towel fall, and kissed your jaw, the side that wasn't bruised.

"Happy birthday, princess," he mumbled against your skin.

"I'm about to get down on one knee and propose," you said, making him laugh.

“You'd have to be my girlfriend first, y/n," he said.

You leaned back against his chest and he kissed your cheek. "Will you be my boyfriend, Bee?" You asked. You could feel him grin against your skin.

"Always, y/n/n," he said softly.

“Good, now let’s eat. I’m starving.”

#joel farabee x reader #joel farabee imagine #joel farabee #nhl imagine #hockey imagine

224 notes · View notes

aquaticstyles · 3 years

Text

to do list

hi everyone! i know it’s early, but i stayed up all night writing and simply couldn’t wait to post. 4.8k of some bf!harry ahead (including my first attempt at smut... pls feel free to tell me if it sucks). of course, reblogs + feedback make my heart soar 💓💕💖💘💗💞

You think the scene before you cannot be real. Without a doubt, you must be dreaming, sleepwalking, eyes still seeing through a rose-colored, innocent hue that can only belong to your imagination.

Dew drops cling onto freshly cut blades of emerald grass, spray-painting the ground in a silver cast, sparkling, glistening. Birds sing a perfectly pitched hymn, their orchestra being the gentle whistle of the wind that rustles the branches of the trees in your backyard, new with springtime buds the bees generously catered to. There are the roses, sitting pretty in their beds, still slightly drooping from their abandonment of the glowing mass in the atmosphere, pouting in velvet pink. A dragonfly brushes past the French doors in front of you, and you swear you notice it's hesitation, almost tempted by the glass, almost fooled by the facade, almost daring to dart into the comfort of your home, blocked off by the rest of the outside world. Then there's a lone butterfly, fluttering, strikingly contrasting against the green with its pompous red wings outlined intricately in black ink. The sun rises slowly over her horizon, sluggishly being pulled on a string by an invisible hand buried beneath bundles of clouds pocketed throughout the sky turning more blue as each second ticks by. Watercolor, drops of salmon and peach twirling about one another, accidentally on purpose creating an orange hue to the world below, that is now waking again, a fresh start, a new day.

You simply must be dreaming.

Picking apart the clementine you had selected as your sunrise viewing snack, you watch the scene before you unfold, a rubix cube solving itself before your very own eyes. Sweet and sour juices cascade down your throat, and you notice the uncanny resemblance the fruit in your palm mirrors to the morning. You know the picturesque serenity will soon fade away, turning sour as children awake from their slumbers and car engines are started back up again, but you enjoy the sweet while it remains.

Startling you from your daze, you feel a warm body suddenly press up against your backside, arms encircling your waist, cold palms resting against your exposed stomach, creating a valley of goosebumps in their wake. You relax immediately into his touch, snuggling into him and sighing as he rests his chin on your shoulder.

"Your hands are freezing," you whisper to him, careful not to disturb nature.

Without a word, he smooths his palms up and down the skin of your tummy in a fast pace in hopes of warming them. After doing so for a couple seconds, now satisfied with the new temperature, he sinks his hands cheekily beneath the band of your underwear, fingertips resting on each hip, using your cotton panties as a blanket.

You almost snicker at his antics, but choose instead to offer him the last piece of your fruit, hovering it over where you imagine his mouth to be near your shoulder. He happily accepts your donation, chapped lips wrapping around your two fingers, a tongue darting out momentarily, teasingly. Out of the corner of your eye you see a smirk fall upon his face as he munches on the fruit, the deep crevice of a dimple forming for only a second. You focus your gaze back on the sun, who has already risen significantly higher in the few minutes Harry had stolen your attention.

As if to thank you for orange, Harry presses a kiss to your skin, then decides after five seconds that one was not enough, for you feel his lips drag across the expanse of your bare shoulder, making their way to the base of your neck. A sticky residue of juice is left behind as his tongue licks your skin, sucking, nipping, biting, causing your eyes to flutter shut and an appreciative hum to rise from the back of your throat. Your head tilts back, allowing the man showing you his love more access. His palms move from their previous shelter underneath your panties, a single finger ghosting up your skin, poking your bellybutton, until it moves beneath the thin tank top you're sporting, tracing the valley of your chest. Two palms encase your breasts, massaging slowly, and your nipples pebble beneath the all-too-familiar touch. Humming again, you get lost in the way Harry has encased you in your third dream of the day.

"You're bein' nice. Should give you a piece of my orange more often," you snicker as Harry flicks your nipple once before encircling his arms around your waist again, hugging you, sinking into your quicksand. He gently sways the two of you, molten together like two pieces of chocolate underneath a beachy sun, one silhouette.

"Mmm..." he hums, and you know he's about to say something else as he presses one final peck beneath your ear, resting his chin back on your shoulder.

A few minutes pass by in silence, and you patiently await the first mumblings of your boyfriend, expecting the special, raspy voice that belongs to early Harry. Unlike the rasp that occurs after a show, or the rasp after a bitter fight, this one is your favorite, because you're the only one who gets to hear it. You're the only one that gets his mornings.

"Wanna have sex?"

You blink at the sudden abrupt and blunt statement interrupting your sentimental thinking. Chuckling softly at your two contrasting mindsets, you tease him, "Bored already? It's not even 7 yet."

"Not bored," Harry lifts his head, pretending to be shocked at your accusation as he spins your body around in his arms so he can finally get a good look at you. He notices the smile already plastered on your face as you turn into view, and he thinks that he would do anything to capture you in this moment and keep it locked away in his chest forever. "Jus' wanna have sex with you. Love havin' sex with you."

You run your hands up Harry's bare chest and begin to fiddle with the chain hanging around his neck, thumbing over the plated cross that has ironically swung over you countless times, "Gotta check this off the to do list?"

You're only joking, but the sudden frown that washes over Harry's face makes you think he didn't pick up on that. Suddenly ever-so-serious, creases form between his brow, "Sex with you is never something to just mark off my to do list."

"No?" you raise your eyebrows and fold your hands behind his neck, tugging gently at the curls there, twirling them around your pointer finger.

With a quick and firm shake of his head to confirm his sentiment, he places a loving kiss on your cheek, then the other one, then on the center of your pout, lingering there for a moment before sneakily slipping his tongue into your mouth and massaging it languidly against yours, the tangy bitterness of the orange encircling the two of you, making your toes curl and your hands slide into the curled mess sitting atop your lover's head, knots from a deep slumber, a rats nest begging for a comb, but your fingers will simply have to suffice.

"Love you," he mumbles as he pulls away, speaking his mind yet directly from his heart all at once.

You can't help but grin at him, the sunlight from the view you were ogling over mere seconds ago casting a perfect golden hue onto his tanned skin. You're so close you can see every pore, every beauty mark, every scar. If you closed your eyes you would be able to trace his skin with ease, knowing every landmark on his road map, knowing every bit and piece of Harry that makes him Harry. He's so familiar to you, a body you know sometimes better than your own, a body you're always longing for, regardless of the countless of times you've made love by now. There's something so innocently intimate about this moment, something so casual and domestic.

You wish to capture him right now, in this very instant, with curls that have definitely looked worse but definitely looked better, glistening pink lips that are still slightly chapped from their lack of use through the night, a slight stubble around his jaw and below his nose, eyebrows crisscrossed in a chevron pattern that is entirely unnoticeable unless you're peering directly into his sleepy eyes (paired with faint purple circles underneath), in nothing but a pair of briefs, one leg hiked up significantly higher than the other (most likely due to the starfish position he chose to undertake in sleep last night), and lock it away in a special place in your mind forever.

This is Harry. Your Harry. The version of him reserved just for you.

And how could you say no?

"Okay," you smile as you watch his eyes light up like a school boy sneaking his first kiss against the tree on the playground, a million fireworks exploding in a forest.

In one sudden, swift movement, Harry swings your body over his shoulder with ease, as if you weigh nothing more than a sheet of paper. Now seeing the world upside down, you erupt into a burst of giggles, your hair swinging below you as your boyfriend begins to maneuver around your home. The sunrise slowly defocuses, shifting out of your view as the replacement sunshine carries you towards your bedroom.

"I'm perfectly capable of walking you know," you manage to speak out between laughs, and you imagine there's undoubtedly a bulging vein at the center of your forehead from your current position.

"Hush," is all he says in response, paired with a couple pats on your bum that is so conveniently placed on his shoulder. "Bed or shower?"

"Uhhhh," you begin, now having a perfect view of your living room as Harry now stands in the doorway of your bedroom. Drumming your hands on the backs of his thighs in contemplation, you weigh your options, "Last time we did it in the shower you almost slipped and broke your neck so-"

"Your fault for using so much bloody conditioner-"

"Thought you liked my conditioner, said it smelled like roses-"

And then he's throwing you on top of the mattress, your back colliding with the plush duvet, and head sinking into the array of pillows Harry simply has to have (the first night he spent at your place, you only had two. the next time he came over, a dozen new pillows sat crammed in his backseat, claiming it was good for "neck and back support"). You barely have a second to think before he's crawling over you, palms placed on each side of your head, his knees trapping you against your hips. Fanning out, your hair creates a halo around you, making you look even more of an angel the man hovering above you sees you as. Out of the corner of your eye you see one of his rings twinkle in the singular beam of sunlight peaking through your curtains, and you can't help the smile that warms your face.

"What are yeh smilin' at?" Harry grins, peering down at you below him. He looks ethereal, tattoos contrasting and standing out even in the darkness masking the room, thick biceps flexing as they hold his body up above yours, smiling in that way he does only when he's around his other half. He belongs in a gallery, framed in gold trim, available to be studied and fawned over. Yet here you are, selfishly adoring what the masses wish they could view, an unbothered bliss.

"Nothin," you respond, locking your arms behind his neck, scratching his scalp lightly, it feels like the first ten chews of bubble gum, squishing a marshmallow between your fingertips, a fruity piña colada on a hot summer's day, and he hasn't even touched you yet. "just love you."

And you do. So much it consumes you. So much it hurts. So much you'd dive head first into shark infested waters if it meant feeling his palm against your cheek.

And if you thought that smile of his couldn't possible grow any bigger, you're proven wrong yet again. He catches your lips between his, suckling on your bottom lip before slipping his tongue in your mouth, licking into you as if you're the last bucket of water on earth and he's parched, shriveling at the seams. It's like his one mission in life was to move his tongue against yours, and he's perfected his craft flawlessly. His body presses down against yours, needing contact, gently grinding his bulge that is growing with each rotation of his hips against your clothed core.

"Love you so much," he mumbles in between sloppy kisses, noses bumping every so often, causing a few giggles to interrupt the sweet silence.

After removing your shirt in one swift movement, desperate to reveal the miles upon miles of skin he never tires of studying, his lips soon travel south, leaving a piece of his heart in their tracks from the corner of your mouth, to beneath your ear, to your jaw, to your breasts, to your tummy, to your hip bone.

"Can I have a taste darlin'? Please? M'achin' for it," ringed hands run up and down the sides of your abdomen before they encircle your thighs, spreading them apart so a mess of caramel curls can settle between them, nails creating half-moons onto your skin.

A breathy exhale releases from you as he brushes his nose exactly against where he knows your clit is, ghosting the pad of his thumb against it once teasingly. Hooded green eyes peer into yours from their position between you, and you think you'd like to have this photograph etched into your brain for eternity. Your lover, in between your legs, begging to lick you until your thighs shake.

"Can smell yeh angel, makin' my mouth water. Gonna let me taste yeh fo' a bit?" His accent is huskier, low and raspy, shavings of dark chocolate sprinkled on a bitter raspberry tart.

And again, how on earth could you say no?

"Please H," you grasp onto the cusp of a chestnut curl, gripping onto it as your life depends on it as Harry quite literally dives into you.

Your underwear is thrown and forgotten across the room as his lips attack your folds, tongue licking into you and spreading you apart in a way that only Harry can do. You're a watermelon cracked open on the deck of a yacht, juice dribbling onto to sugar-high-chasing chins. Prickles of his facial hair rub against you in the most agonizingly amazing way, and you yelp when he delivers a harsh suck to your clit right off the bat, moaning and whining underneath his touch.

His tongue doesn't miss a single spot, devouring you and causing your heart to thump harshly against your chest. Suddenly and abruptly, Harry inserts a finger into your entrance, curling it inside you and pumping it in and out a couple times before adding another. His fingers and tongue simultaneously work you, and if your brain hadn't turned to jelly, you'd be delivering a speech consisting of his name and various other praises.

"Gimme a good one, lover," he demands, his lips vibrating against you. When his lips move to suck harshly on your clit yet again as his fingers repeatedly hit that one cushiony spot inside you, you're sent over the edge, curling your toes, moaning relentlessly, and jerking your hips abruptly, causing harry's large palms to trap them back down against the mattress.

He's a professional, an artist, painting you with each lick of his tongue against your nerves, each curl of his fingers inside of you, making a masterpiece out of you as you ride out your wave of pleasure, coasting it until it crashes against the shore. His starry night.

And when you finally chase down your high, and Harry's still licking your folds, you tug his roots away from you, wiggling from overstimulation. A whine leaves Harry's cherry lips as he's tugged back to you. A smirk warms his face, a dimple reappearing, and his thumb brushes the corner of his mouth, catching some of your arousal, before it sinks between his glistening lips. Sucking the remnants of you from his finger, he hums, "tastes like clementines."

His words send you into a frenzy, a vampire flung into a blood drive, and you grasp onto his shoulders and flip him roughly onto his back, straddling him and trapping his lips in a kiss before any objections can leave them. His hands encase your back, scratching here and rubbing there. You can still taste you on his tongue as it swirls against your own, and when you take his lower lip between your teeth, he lets out a throaty groan, lifting his hips to rut against your sensitive core to relieve himself for just a moment.

"Achin' aren't you baby?" You ask, tracing your fingers over the butterfly stamped on his chest, to the ferns above his v-line, to the sparse patch of coarse hair right above his underwear that sits low on his waist. Palming over the fabric, you feel how hard and thick he's gotten, and you can only imagine how frustrated he must be.

"Fuck, yeah. Fuck me angel, please. Always achin' for yeh," Harry whimpers, green eyes nearly bulging out of his skull as he watches you teasingly toy with the band of his underwear, tracing the skin right above where he needs you most.

You tap his hip bone twice, and he obliges by lifting his hips, allowing you to drag his underwear to his feet and fling them across the room, undoubtedly joining yours somewhere. He loves when you take charge, loves when you tell him what to do without even verbally saying anything. You could do anything to him, and he'd love it. He's so caught up in your orbit he'd completely miss the asteroid hurtling towards him at a thousand miles per hour.

And when his cock springs up against his stomach, tip red and glistening with precum, your mouth literally waters.

How the fuck can a dick be that pretty?

Crawling back over to him, you gently twist your fingers around his member, giving him a few pumps that causes his head to roll back against the pillow, veins bulging in his neck as a loud groan leaves his open lips. His eyes flutter shut as you stroke him, and you're nearly about to go down on him when he interrupts your thoughts.

"Put me in darlin', won't last if yeh keep doin' that. Wanna feel your pretty cunt wrapped around me, yeah?"

And you don't have to be told twice.

Lining him up with your entrance, you slowly sink down onto him inch by inch, hissing at the faint burn that always comes with him stretching you out like this, especially after his tongue already worked wonderful magic on you mere minutes ago. Harry moans, praising and chanting your name in whispers. His face is pulled in pleasure, eyebrows furrowing, lips open as heavy pants leave them.

As soon as you get to the base of him, you take a moment to adjust before slowly working up a rotation of your hips, circling around him and rubbing your clit on his pelvic bone in the process, sending an overwhelming wave of goosebumps down your spine. Harry's hands move up and down your back, to your ass, to your pebbled nipples, massaging and coasting over every single centimeter of skin he can reach.

Creating a rhythm, you begin to sink up and down on his cock, causing your tits to bounce as you pick up the pace. He's filling you up in the best way imaginable, hitting every spot, encompassing every inch. You can't tell where he stops and you begin, waterfalls inter-joining and cascading down together, intertwined in harmony and mind-numbing pleasure. The sound of your skin slapping together is music to your ears, a sweet symphony of your bodies exuding love.

"Harry god," you moan when his tip reaches that one spot inside you, eyes rolling back, tilting your head in a way that broadcasts the expanse of your neck dotted with purple bruises from Harry's lips, and your chest, breasts glistening with beads of sweat.

"Like that angel? Like when yeh ride me like this?" Harry groans at the sight of you, a masterpiece fucking him so well he nearly forgets his name. You're glowing, a shining mass far too bright for him, and he almost debates jetting off for his sunglasses. "Know yeh do. Fuckin' perfect. Ridin' me so well angel, tha's it."

It's paradise, toes sinking into beds of sand, observing the sun as it sinks into the ocean, leaving an array of creamsicle in its path, a massage from warm palms after a hard week hunched over a computer, finally finishing the book you've started three times, dog-earing the pages with passages that jump out to you, a cold shower when the air-con is out, sweaty bodies lost under the brief escape of the chilling water. It's perfect. It's you and Harry.

He can't take his eyes off you, not wanting to miss a single second of this, barely blinking so he can come back to each frame and rewatch this film over and over and over again. Moving his palms against your sides, he watches as your breasts move up and down, and he can't help the next words that tumble out of his mouth, ""Your tits are fuckin' dynamite have I ever told you that?"

Locking eyes with your lover, you smile widely, pearly whites broadcasted in an ear-to-ear grin at his ability to say something so completely Harry in this intimate moment. You let one giggle escape your lips, briefly shaking your head at the man, causing a lock of your hair to fall out of place and over your eyes.

His knuckles brush the stray away so it doesn't block your view of him beneath you, and then he cups your cheek and grins, an eternal sunshine radiating his heat onto you, "Wha'? It's true. Your tits are fuckin' incredible. Can't believe I get to see 'em."

Feeling nothing but pure adoration, you observe the same look in his eye, his smile sparkling beneath you, eyes twinkling into yours as if a projector is relaying the words "I love you" in a cursive script across his irises. Blinking once, taking a snapshot of his face right now, you lean into his touch and place a kiss to his palm, "Thanks lover."

Clenching your walls around him, Harry loses his train of thought and releases an ear-splitting moan, one that nearly makes you cum in that very instant. His hand moves from your cheek to your side again, both palms squeezing your hips. He bites his lip so hard it almost draws blood, his cock twitching as it buries inside you, skin on skin, absolutely no barriers. "My lover," he mumbles, eyes darting off to where your bodies are connecting, watching your pussy slide up and down his cock.

Your thighs begin to burn, and you feel that all too familiar feeling bubble in your abdomen, foam overflowing a cappuccino. Placing your palms on his chest, you hover over him, grinding your hips repeatedly, "Your lover. The only one."

He wraps his hands around your wrists, bringing them to his lips to kiss the back of your hands, then pecking each one of your fingers, mumbling in between each token of his affection, "Only one that can fuck me like this angel, only one."

Once he releases his hold on your hands, he moves one of his fingers down to your clit, flicking the bundle of nerves in a way that causes you to cry out, "Fuck, Harry, I'm gonna-,"

"There we are," he smirks, watching you lose it before his very eyes, and he knows when your brow begins to furrow that you're close to unraveling again, "go ahead darlin' come on your cock. It's yours."

Your movements become sloppy, no longer fluid and concentrated like before as you run after your orgasm. Still desperate to prolong this feeling as longer as possible, you pick up the pace even more, riding him faster despite your body's oncoming exhaustion. His finger continues to linger where you need it, playing with you and sending wave after wave of pleasure through you.

"Fuck, that's it," Harry's raspy praises causes a flush to rise to your chest and cheeks, "Not far behind yeh lover keep goin'."

He loves the way you look when you come, the way your face twists and your mouth drops in the shape of an O, strawberry lips glistening in ecstasy, begging for a taste. Sweat running down your chest and lingering on your temples, messy hair frizzy from the pillow and his fingertips, golden skin shining in the low-light. But he particularly loves the way you never ever shut your eyes, even though sometimes the waves are so euphorically catastrophic you're tempted to let your eyes rest to absorb the moment fully. Yet here you are right now, candle wax melting above him into a sea of warm rose water, peering directly into his eyes, revealing every word you wish you could say. A whimper, Right there. A moan, I love you.

And once he's viewed the sight beautiful enough to blind him, he's coming as well, his cock twitching as he releases warm spurts of him inside of you. As soon as you feel him soften, you lift up off of him and collapse on top of his sweaty chest, limbs exhausted and body spent from your two orgasms. You rest your head on a swallow, the steady heartbeat of your lover echoing softly into your eardrum, gooey caramel summersaulting over cotton candy skies, a chilling ice cube plummeting and disappearing into a hot tub, steaming, steady, Styles.

Harry presses a kiss to your forehead, lips lingering for a moment, I. two, Love, three, You. One hand rests on your piping back, scratching lightly up and down, while the other strokes your hair away from your face, a touch so soft and delicate as if he'd break you into a million pieces if he's not too fragile. Precious cargo.

"Love you," you mumble, nearly half asleep as his touch sends another wave of soothing calmness through your nerves, unaware that the exact same words were repeating over and over through his brain in this moment.

Harry smiles, a wide, bunny-tooth grin, and even though you can't see it, you know it's there, for his heartbeat quickens ever-so-slightly.

"Love you, angel. So much."

It's laying here, post-sex, in the comforting silence of your home, that you think you quite like these moments more than any others. The ones that are so simple and habitual one would deem them unimportant, a cup of tea gone cold, last Sunday's paper. These moments are what make you feel the closest to Harry, behind closed doors, just you and him, in your own bulletproof bubble, making love, starting and ending each day, together. And you think you quite like the idea of spending forever in that bubble, watching the sunrise, sharing your clementine, and spending the day tangled in sheets with the man that has irreversibly stolen your heart.

Theirs was a brief beauty, autumn leaves before they fall to the ground, trampled on, forgotten. Yours was forever, an easy love, one that didn't have to try, one that flourished, even when the odds were pent against you. An easy love, a flourishing love, a habit you never wish to break. As simple as a well-known recipe, caramel-colored pages wilting from being passed by generations. As complex as learning the avenues and allies, hiding spots and hidden treasures of a new city. He was everything, the light, the dark, the beginning, the end.

And when you wake up the next morning, peering over your shoulder in the doorway of your shared bedroom to see that all too familiar starfish spread out and suctioned to the sheets, you smile, knowing that in only a couple of minutes he'd notice the left side of the bed had gone cold, springing up out of bed in search of his personal radiator, his lover. You trot to the kitchen, and right as you reach to grab a clementine, you notice a note that had not been there the night prior, stuck to the thick peel of the fruit.

"To Do List:

- Go on a run. - Propose to girlfriend. - Have sex with girlfriend fiancé. - Call Mum. - Buy more clementines."

457 notes · View notes

robinofinashiro · 3 years

Text

sypnosis: mini scenarios for a few BNHA boys.

characters: mirio togata, bakugou katsuki, and izuku midoriya

request status: OPENED / all fandoms I write for are pinned to the top of my page as well as my rules! feel free to request as you’d like!

he has to come pick you up drunk from a club:

oh god, mirio is crying from laughter the minute he sees the way you are. the look of being plastered is written all over your face and you couldn’t stop laughing for some odd reason.

Nejire had called him on the fact that you were complaining that Mirio wasn’t here to enjoy the night with you. the reason why was that this was your last night before becoming a married woman and mirio wanted you to enjoy it before the wedding.

a part of his mind knew that this was going to happen though. you got very clingy to him when you drank and although he was hoping that you didn’t get as drunk tonight, the call from Nejire made him know he wasn’t getting what he was hoping for.

he grabbed his shoes, making sure to put all of the medicine you would need in the morning on the night stand before heading out the door. you and Nejire were at a club not too far from where the both of you stayed so the drive wasn’t even more than fifteen minutes.

once he arrived to the club, he flashed his ID to the security outside and walked in. the club was relatively packed for a Friday night but once he saw Nejire’s bright blue hair, he knew exactly where you were and how loud you were being.

when he finally spotted the two of you, he could see how drunk you actually were. you had a cup filled with whatever alcoholic contents you were drinking and singing, actually more like screaming, to one of your favorite songs.

“babe!” he sang, trying to catch you attention. you still hadn’t realized it was Mirio as your eyes were still closed and taking small sips of your drink, “( your name )!” mirio screamed again. finally, you heard your name and turned around, “MIRI!” you screamed, jumping onto him.

he chuckled, wrapping his arms around you, “ready to go home?” he asked, seeing the way your eyes were getting droopy, “you can’t hungover to your final fitting tomorrow,” he informed, grabbing your bag and phone.

“boooo!! i wanna stay and party with you!” you exclaimed, trying to get him to stay, “nope! we gotta get you home or else no wedding,” he saw the way your eyes instantly watered at the idea, “babe! no i was kidding!” he exclaimed, trying to back track on the comment.

your lip stuck out in a pouty way as he grabbed your wrist, “see you tomorrow Nejire!” he said, knowing she’d probably come over after all of you got done with the final dress fittings, “yup! she’s making me dinner actually!” she yelled as he grabbed her own things to head out, “make sure she doesn’t die on me tonight,” she giggled.

“i’ll make sure! see ya!” Mirio said as he felt your weight get heavier. he looked down to see that you were already starting to fall asleep as you walked, “i swear, what am i gonna do with you?” he joked, as he put you in the passenger seat, making sure you didn’t double over in the process.

you accidentally get hurt in front of him:

all of you were doing some simple training on the grounds outside of UA. it was nothing that you hadn’t done before but there was something that was not making you preform at 100%

you noticed a few weeks ago that you weren’t preforming as best as you could because of the weight you gained over the winter break (lmfaoo, this is 100% self projecting). you couldn’t stand the fact that you weren’t skinny as the rest of the girls were and decided to put yourself on a diet.

because of said diet, you were strictly drinking water and a very small dinner.

no one had noticed it but you weren’t seeing the results you were hoping for. at first you thought you had to cut off the dinner portion of your diet but you knew if you had done that, you weren’t going to succeed in your performance either.

you were fighting Kirishima, giving him a decent run for his money as you countered each of his attacks with one of your own but Kiri had noticed how tired you were getting. your attacks were strong but they weren’t as quick as he had seen them before.

“you okay?” Kirishima asked. you nodded tiredly as you stood back up, getting into a fighting position, “nothing i can’t handle!” you exclaimed. he laughed, shaking off his concern before going in for another attack.

as soon as you felt the impact of his punch on your stomach, you knew that this wasn’t going to end well. you instantly fell back, flying a few feet from where you were before and hitting the wall with a giant thud as you slipped down.

at first, Kirishima had thought that you were just messing with him in order to get him riled up but when he saw that your body remained slumped on the ground and you weren’t getting up, he instantly ran over to you. “hey!” he screamed, seeing your eyes closed, “hey, get up!” he yelled a bit louder.

Bakugou, who was fighting with Momo, had saw the interaction from the corner of his eye and instantly dropped the match. he ran over to you to see you still passed out on the ground. Momo caught Aizawa’s attention as he had saw you still not moving, “take her to recovery girl,” he informed Bakugou, knowing that if he didn’t take you, he wouldn’t allow anyone else, “and let me know the extent of her injuries,” he added on.

Bakugou nodded, basically scooping you into his arms and running to her office. once he got there, he pushed anyone who was already waiting for her away and slammed the door open, screaming that you weren’t awake and you had passed out from training.

recovery girl, being used treating Midoriya, sighed and told him to put you on the spare bed as she took out her tools to see what was wrong with you. once she hooked you up to a few machines and let them check your vitals, she instantly saw the issue.

“when’s the last time she’s had a proper meal?” she asked, a bit in disbelief, “her water intake is fine but her food intake is extremely low. it looks like she hasn’t ate a significant meal in a while,” she told Bakugou, showing him the screen. his eye twitched, trying to remember when’s the last time he actually saw you eat.

“i’d suggest you bring her something to eat. by the time you arrive with food, i’m sure she’ll be up,” she said, basically kicking him out of the room until you woke up. Bakugou growled, not wanting to leave you but he knew better than to piss Recovery Girl off and did as she ordered.

it took about an hour for him to come back with something for you to eat when he saw you awake, playing with the blanket and trying not to focus on him. he stared at you, trying to suppress his anger as best as he could.

“what the hell happened?” he asked, setting the plate down and looking at you. it was like a dam breaking as your tears came down in strides. you tried to explain but all Bakugou heard was the hurt in your voice as you basically confessed your insecurities, “listen you idiot,” he scoffed, sitting down on the bed and wrapping his arms around you, “your body is fine. nothing is wrong with you and even if there was something wrong, you should have told me,” Bakugou said.

you nodded, trying to hide your face on his side, “but if you have such an issue with how you look, come and work out with weird hair and i. don’t pull some stupid shit like this ever again,” he warned as he put the plate of food on the small lap table, “and i won’t be leaving you until i see you finish all of that food.”

the two of you run into your ex:

both you and midoriya were running a few errands for his mom while the two of you were visiting her. you had offered to help her with dinner before you were due back at UA and she asked if you and midoriya could run to the store for a few things she was missing.

before you and midoriya got together, you had been friends with him for a while. you, bakugou, and midoriya had attended the same middle school and when all of you got accepted to UA, he confessed his feelings for you after a few months.

you and midoriya were walking down the street, groceries in hand and his other arm wrapped around your shoulder. he had been talking your ear off about some all might facts when he felt you come to a sudden stop and become stiff.

he followed your eye trajectory and realized who it was. it was ex and an ex that you practically had a death wish on. the two of you dated the summer before entering UA and broke up after he made some sly remark about how you didn’t deserve to go to UA with the weak quirk you had.

“lets try to find another way back home,” midoriya murmured. the two of you tried to turn the corner but it was too late. your ex had saw you and basically screamed your name before running down the street to see you, “hey!” he yelled with disgusting happiness.

you turned around giving him a fake smile, “hey,” you whispered, feeling midoriya’s grip get stronger. your ex saw the way he was holding you and frowned, “how have you been!” he asked, trying to ignore midoriya. “okay, just been at UA, training and all that,” you replied.

your ex nodded, trying to get closer to you but midoriya instantly pulled you closer, “so, are you here visiting his mom?” he asked. you nodded, a bit happily, “yeah, ever since we got together, we’ve been visiting his mom more,” you said. he cringed upon hearing you mutter that the two of you were together.

“the two of you....” he implied, “are together?” he asked. you nodded, “yep! we’ve been together for a few months now!” you looked at midoriya and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “i wonder how long that’ll last. not long considering he’s midoriya,” he joked to his friends.

your eyebrows fluttered in anger as midoriya whispered to calm down. you looked to your ex, “well, we should be leaving. we actually have to leave in a few hours to head back to UA. you know, the school you couldn’t get into,” you retorted, making midoriya laugh loudly.

your ex tried to say something back but before he could, you grabbed midoriya’s arm and ran in the opposite direction before your ex could follow you. the two of you ran for a little while longer before agreeing that you both had lost him.

“what an asshole, right?” you asked. midoriya agreed, grabbing your hand and kissing it, “serves him right. he’s always been so rude,” he replied, seeing his house coming into vision, “plus, i think my mom is going to find the story pretty funny.”

you rolled your eyes playfully as you tried not to think on the exchange with your ex any longer and trying to refocus on what midoriya was talking to you about before you ran into him.

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ttttaehyungie · 3 years

Text

lazy day cuddles | ksj x reader

lazy day cuddles | kim seokjin x reader

genre | established relationship, smut summary | As payment for waking you up, your boyfriend owes you cuddles. You’re here to collect that payment. Anything that happens beyond that? It’s not your doing. rating | 18+ word count | 2k words warnings | softttt smut, clit rubbing, nipple play, pwp a/n | i gotta admit, this is just gratuitous smut and cuddles LOL life has been really tough lately and i just wanted to write some soft smut alrite 🙈

Laid stretched out across the tiny couch, your boyfriend’s long legs spill over the wooden armrests, bare feet sticking peeking out from behind the cushions. His breathing, heavy with slumber, fills the living room with an atmosphere of serenity. One arm rests on his tummy, the other over his eyes to shield them from the bright noon sunlight that’s streaming in through your apartment windows.

You’re not surprised to find Jin napping. He was up before dawn for his fishing trip with Yoongi. As quiet as he’d tried to be while washing up, you were too light a sleeper to not have woken up from the running of the tap in the ensuite. Squinty and grumbling, it had taken many minty, damp kisses to your cheeks and the whispered promise of warm cuddles later to appease you. Through the foggy sleepiness, memories of Jin dragged themselves up, hair wet but fresh-smelling from the shower, crawling into bed for a nap after fishing trips. Ok. Cuddles are acceptable payment. With that, you released your grip on the white cotton of his t-shirt and let the waves of sleep pull you back under.

Only, you’d woken up alone today. It seems Jin didn’t make it to the bed this time for his usual post-fishing trip nap.

Crossing to the front of the couch, you kneel before your sleeping boyfriend and take a moment to admire his features, pulling his arm away from his face. The smooth, long breaths that he’d been taking stutters at that, signaling his rousing. You lean forward and pepper kisses across his face, skimming your lips across the smooth skin between pecks, knowing it will bring him to alertness.

Warm hands grasp your face gently, softly, and pull you in to meet plush lips that kiss yours with equal tenderness. Half-lidded dreamy eyes meet yours as you pull away.

“Hey,” he says, voice thick from having just woken up, and he clears his throat.

“Hey,” you parrot with a smile. “Why didn’t you come to bed?”

“Too tired. Didn’t wanna shower.”

“But you promised cuddles,” you whine jokingly. Jin responds by pulling you into him, smushing your face up in the juncture between his neck and shoulder, muffling your cries of not like this! and shaking you as he chuckles at your pleas.

When you break free, heaving a little for air but grinning, your heart is set alight when you catch sight of Jin’s matching grin. He stretches his arms out. “How about cuddles here?” he suggests.

It’s not the lazy cuddles between soft sheets that you originally planned, but it’s lazy cuddles with your boyfriend all the same. He lets out a soft oof as you accidentally elbow him in your enthusiasm to get to cuddling and you hurriedly apologize. He laughs. You and your love for cuddles are too cute for him to stay mad at. Clambering into his embrace to nestle yourself into his broad chest, you squirm around a little to find a comfortable position.

Nose buried in the soft white of his shirt, you take a deep inhale and are met with the floral fragrance of your laundry detergent, slightly muted undertones of ocean brine, and the familiarly thick scent of Seokjin that has become akin to home. With a kiss to his jaw -- which is conveniently within reach without much movement -- you lay your head back down on his chest and hum contentedly. This is what Saturdays are meant for. Soaking up the feeling of mutually shared body heat and relishing the feeling of your boyfriend gently stroking your back, sending goosebumps up your spine.

His hand dips under the fabric of your shirt as it continues its wandering. “No bra?” he asks. You shake your head. “Shameless.”

You scoff and pretend to get up. “I can put one on if it bothers you that much,” you quip, but Jin tugs you back down.

His gentle tracing resumes. “I didn’t say it bothered me.”

“You called it shameless.”

“Maybe I like my girlfriend being a little shameless,” he says, slipping a hand between you to stroke the side of your breast. When you turn to adjust your position, he seizes the chance to pinch the bud. The thrilling jolt of pleasure elicits a gasp from you.

“You’re really handsy today,” you note, but arch further into his grasp, and he takes it as confirmation to continue with his ministrations.

“Yeah, well, having you squirming on my dick and rubbing your soft chest up against mine doesn’t really help anything.”

“And here all I wanted was some cuddles,” you say, and it’s true that this was your only agenda. But the whimpers that escape you as he flicks his thumb against your nipple contradict the innocence to your statement.

“We can still cuddle,” he says. You eye him. You know him better than that. He laughs. “While doing other stuff.”

“And what might ‘other stuff’ include?” you tease, pushing him. He pushes back. The hand that’s unoccupied slips its way down from where it rested on your waist to skim the curve of your butt, till two fingers press firmly against your core. The feeling is muted through the extra layers of your sleep shorts and underwear, but it somehow makes it extra titillating. “Right here on the couch? Shameless.”

“I told you. Maybe I like shameless.”

There’s little space on your tiny couch, so you remain on top of Jin, but you plant your knees down on either side of his waist and lift your hips. With the new angle, your chests are pressed together, leaving him no space for his handsy wanderings on your chest. He pouts. But cuddles, you insist.

He relents and wraps an arm around you. The comforting warmth that emanates from him steadies you as he holds you close. And it’s a good thing it does. Because when his other hand slips under the waistband of your shorts and underwear, painstakingly slow as it slides down to your core, his hold is the only thing keeping you grounded. When he reaches his destination, he cups your mound for a moment. Teasing you. Just as you love to tease him.

“Jin. Please.”

Upon your whimpered plea, he parts your folds. A lone finger takes a long, slow swipe from your dripping hole to your quivering clit. There, it presses firmly as the pad of his finger drags up and down the bundle of nerves, aided by the slick of your own arousal.

You relish in the indulgent richness the ebbing pleasure of his strokes bring. It’s slow. Painfully but deliciously so. But it’s like a sampling that has whet your appetite and soon has you ravenous for more.

Rutting against his finger, you attempt to ramp up the pace. Jin lets you take over, stilling his movements. But before it can build up too much, he withdraws his fingers, the pleasure along with it, and you keen.

“I thought you liked me being shameless,” you huff, all pouty. He tilts his head to kiss your pout.

“I do,” he promises, moving to kiss the crease in your brow. “But I want to try something new.”

He doesn’t explain beyond that, but despite your confusion, you follow his cue as he begins stripping his shirt off and then yours. You trust him. Soon, your clothes are in a rumpled pile by the couch.

When you’re both naked and bare, you lay back onto the couch. You watch as Jin rolls the condom on and joins you to lay side by side this time. With your tiny couch, it’s a wonder that he’s not falling off. But somehow you manage.

Caged in between the soft cushions before you and the hard planes of Jin’s chest flush against your back, you realize there’s few places else you’d rather be. Time seems to have slowed back down to its leisurely crawl after your frantic stripping. It seems that Jin is on the same page, his wandering hands resuming their exploration as they come to fondle your chest once again.

Tilting your head back, Jin’s lips capture yours in a languid kiss. His hand makes its slow descent down to your core. But just as it arrives, it makes a seeming detour to your thigh. He hitches it up to guide it over his hip. Parting your folds in the same unhurried manner, he pushes inside you slowly, filling you up inch by inch.

“Is this okay?” he asks.

You nod. “More than okay,” you assure him.

He kisses your temple softly, and you shudder within his grasp. He eats this up, placing open-mouthed kisses along your shoulder. The feeling is all so much and yet not enough at all.

And then he moves. Carrying on with the stretched-out pace of things, he’s unrushed in his movements. Slipping a hand underneath you, he reaches around to gently squeeze your breast. His other hand finds your clit and he circles it with just the right amount of pressure to set you aglow with a simmering pleasure.

He continues on in this infinite cycle of pulling out, then sinking back into your wet heat, the pace measured and sedate. When you whine and try to increase the pace by bucking your hips against his, he calms your movements down with a hand on your hip -- fingers glistening slightly from your lingering arousal -- until you stop.

“Why?” you whine.

But what he says next is vocalized in such a hushed tone that somehow you catch it. You get what he’s trying to get at. “Just enjoy this moment.” You understand. The bubble of pleasure where he’s so wrapped up in you expands so you’re equally wrapped up in him. The quiet hum of pleasure is enough. It’s not quite a stagnant stasis but it’s not a frenzied chasing of highs either.

Instead, you rest in the confident assurance that your peak will come. Succumb to the bone-melting sensation that his gentle tweaks of your clit bring. And when they slowly, gradually, increase in pace infinitesimally, you clench your walls lightly, pulling a groan from him. The gruffness of it goes directly into your ear with the way you’re positioned, and it sends a new spark of arousal shooting down your spine.

You follow his pace, picking up when he does. But it never goes anything beyond relaxed. Yet, the pleasure builds, accumulating steadily like water behind a dam until it eventually cracks and breaks.

When you crest that peak, it’s like nothing else you’ve ever experienced. Rather than the usual bright flash, a quick high and the breathless, panting descent that accompanies it, your orgasm this time feels entirely different. It’s like you’re back floating in the ocean, casually rocked by the push and pull of the water that cradles you and lifts you ever higher till you ascended on a particularly big wave and now you’re riding it out gently, bonelessly, languorously as the tingling orgasm fills you from head to toe. You can still smell the salty ocean air that clings to Jin’s hair. The aptness of it fills you with a fuzzy warmth.

Soon after, Jin is grunting into your ear, his arms now encircling you and holding you tightly to his chest as he reaches his own peak. Tilting your head back to look at him, you take in the visual of him in his blissful post-orgasmic haze.

When his eyes finally flutter open, he gives you a close-lipped smile. The kind that makes your heart swell as it fills up with so much love for him that it brims over. He holds you in his gaze with galaxies in his eyes and you know he feels the same.

He makes quick work of the condom and helps you get back into your clothes after getting dressed himself. Sipping water from the cup he hands you, you glance at him from over the rim. “Is it bad if I still want to cuddle after this?” you ask.

He laughs at you, knowing your penchant for cuddling. “Hm,” he taps his chin in feigned thought. “After knowing we can have amazing sex while cuddling, I’m not opposed.”

You roll your eyes and swat at him lightly.

But when he proposes round two when you’re tucked under the covers after a quick shower, you don’t refuse.

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cyllaeth · 3 years

Text

jealousy, turning saints into the sea

find it on ao3

Eddie has never thought of himself as a jealous type. He has never felt a reason to be jealous even when he was away, on another mission. It was a rather unfamiliar emotion. It was until he met Buck. Or, to be more specific, until he met Taylor Kelly.

She was exactly this kind of woman he has always been avoiding. Confident (or even too confident), cunning and a little bit vicious. Heʼs not intimidated by strong women—hell, he knows and works with amazing women like Hen or Athena—and he loves them. But Taylor is different, though. Sheʼs more malicious and focused on herself, on her career. Even if Buck claims she has changed, Eddie still doesnʼt trust her. He canʼt trust or like her and he was really trying to accept her. The problem is, sheʼs still very much interested in Buck and she dates him. And thatʼs something Eddie canʼt get past. In fact, theyʼre on a date right now and thatʼs the only thing he can think about.

Oh, Eddie really wants to see his best friend happy... Just not necessarily with Taylor. He wants to be that someone who would make Buck happy. Getting shot helped him realize that maybe his feelings are not as platonic as he thought. Theyʼre as far from platonic as they can possibly be. Which is why he spends his evening alone, sulking on the couch. Christopher has a sleepover at Grant-Nash house, Ana is long gone from his life and Buckʼs on a date. He was concerned earlier about leaving Eddie all alone but Eddie insisted he would be okay.

He really regrets his words now. Heʼs not okay. Heʼd rather spend his evening curled up with Buck, watching some movies. Theyʼve been doing this since Buck kind of moved in to help Eddie with his recovery and take care of Christopher. And Eddie has adjusted to this new reality embarrassingly quickly. He loves being woken up by his best friend, he loves joyous breakfasts with Christopher and Buck, he loves when Buck comes home after the shift and asks how his boys are doing. He loves that Buckʼs so patient and sweet even if Eddieʼs all whiny and cranky. He just loves Buck and itʼs hard to see him with someone else. But he wanted to be a good friend and let Buck enjoy himself instead of babysitting him.

The TV is playing a sappy and dumb rom-com but Eddie doesn’t even notice. He stares at it but he can’t focus. He’s still thinking about Buck and his date—which should be over soon—and wondering what they might’ve been doing. Unsurprisingly, it doesnʼt help and just makes his misery worse.

He almost calls him.

He stops before he touches the dial button and bites his lip.

This is ridiculous and pathetic.

Buck told him to call if something was wrong but is he really that petty and desperate to cut Buckʼs date short and make him come back?

He wants to say no but it wouldnʼt be a complete truth. Heʼs petty and jealous and he really tries not to destroy this date even if itʼs with Taylor Kelly. God, sometimes he really has that strange urge to strangle her just because sheʼs always somewhere hanging around Buck.

Do not embarrass yourself, Diaz, he thinks, carefully putting away his phone on the table.

But what if Buckʼs not coming home tonight?

And there it is, that annoying, pesky voice in his mind, always ready to let the doubt creep in.

No.

He canʼt behave like a whiny, little brat.

He should be better than this.

He should, for Buckʼs sake.

He lets out a long, heavy sigh and he looks at the phone. 9:30 pm. Itʼs still not that late, he doesnʼt really need help. He can hold on for a little longer.

He can, right?

At 10 pm heʼs not that sure about this anymore. Heʼs still sitting on the couch, nervously tapping at his leg and waiting for his best friend.

Fuck it. Heʼll cringe at himself later.

He dials Buckʼs number, biting his lip quite hard.

Heʼs not really surprised Buck picks up almost immediately. He always does it.

“Eds? Are you okay?” He asks, his voice all concerned.

“Y-Yeah, I am. It’s just...” Eddie falls silent for a moment. He shouldʼve thought at least about a good excuse but itʼs too late now. “Iʼm so sorry for calling you on a date but...”

“... You need my help?” Buck finishes. “I told you, you can call me if you need me. Iʼll be home in twenty.” He promises, not even waiting for Eddie to explain why.

“Thanks, Buck.” Eddie says shyly and hangs up.

It... Wasnʼt as bad as he thought it would be. He doesnʼt feel that bad as he expected to. He feels embarrassed, just a little bit, but thatʼs all. Buck is coming home and thatʼs the only thing that matters. He will explain it... Somehow.

The next twenty minutes feel like an eternity of torture but he finally hears the keys jingling and seconds later, Buck coming inside.

“Hey, Eddie.” He says warmly. He doesnʼt seem to be upset about the date and Eddie really hopes he wonʼt be pissed about it. “How are you feeling? Did you take the meds? Are you in pain?”

That sweet concern in his voice and the way he rushes to him to check his pulse, his forehead to confirm heʼs okay, it moves Eddie to the point he almost blurts out I love you.

“No... Iʼm not in pain and I did take my meds. Itʼs... I wanted to change my clothes but I couldn't take off my shirt.” He says instead, looking apologetically at his best friend.

“You really called me to help you take off your shirt?” Buck asks curiously, raising an eyebrow. Eddie blushes and starts to worry that he mightʼve pissed him off after all. But Buck doesnʼt sound angry when he continues. “... After I told you to change your clothes before I go out but you insisted you donʼt see any reason to change it?”

“Maybe?” Eddie admits.

Buck laughs heartily.

“And Iʼm the dumbass one. Now, sit up, Edmundo and let me change it.” He orders.

Eddie does it without hesitation. Theyʼve done it a lot of times already—even though it wasnʼt too easy at first—that they could do it with their eyes closed. Buck carefully pulls off Eddieʼs shirt and his touch is very light, almost like a brush of a feather but Eddie still feels it and it runs shivers down his spine.

“I gotta admit, though, that Iʼm relieved you werenʼt a stubborn mule and didnʼt try to do it all by yourself.”

Eddie scoffs.

“When I was the stubborn mule?”

“You want the exact dates?”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” Buck’s smile is very cocky and confident. “You’re doing so well because you have the best nurse in the world. Who puts up with your stubbornness and constant whining. And you love me for it.”

“I do.”

You don’t know how much, he adds in his thoughts.

Buck helps him put on his favourite sleeping t-shirt, takes a beer from the fridge and bottle of water for Eddie and then settles on the couch next to him.

“It was only an excuse.” Eddie blurts out suddenly. Heʼs not sure why he said it; maybe itʼs because he doesnʼt like to lie.

“What was an excuse?” Buck asks, opening his bottle. He sounds curious, but also a little bit cautious.

“The shirt. I didnʼt want to change my shirt. I was just jealous because you were on a date with Taylor.”

Buck chokes on his beer. He needs a moment or two to process Eddieʼs words.

“Why are you even jealous? Is it because youʼre single again? Do you... Do you miss Ana?”

Eddie looks at him quizzically.

“What? No. I donʼt miss her.” He huffs and falls silent because he doesnʼt know how to say what he means and not to sound like a complete asshole.

“Then why are you jealous? I know you donʼt like Taylor but I swear, sheʼs different now, sheʼs changed now and actually, weʼre not—”

“Iʼm in love with you. Iʼm jealous because Iʼm in love with you.” Eddie interrupts him. He looks at his hands, pretending to find something interesting here. He didnʼt even think about it, it just happened. Heʼs afraid of what he will hear next, what will their friendship look like, heʼs afraid it might be the end of their amazing relationship that theyʼve built.

Buck says nothing, maybe for a minute or two and the panic in Eddieʼs chest starts to rise. The words are out and thereʼs no coming back, he canʼt take them back. He canʼt make Buck forget about this and knowing him, not only he wouldnʼt forget but he would also spend a lot of time analysing them.

Buck touches his chin to force him to look up and look into his eyes but Eddie doesnʼt do it.

“Eds.”

Itʼs quiet, fragile, unsure, pleading. Eventually, Eddie obliges. He sees Buckʼs face so close to his; he can see those cute blue eyes shining with excitement and how the corners of his mouth curl into a sweet smile. Heʼs not horrified, scared or disappointed, itʼs the opposite of it.

“You are a real dumbass, Diaz.” Buck says before he kisses him. Itʼs soft and chaste as if he doesnʼt want to overwhelm his best friend even if he was the one to say about his feelings. Eddie is overwhelmed, not because of the kiss, itʼs rather because he can barely believe itʼs true, itʼs real. He cradles Buckʼs face in his hands, caresses his cheek with his thumb and kisses him back.

Buck moves closer to him and thereʼs something sweet and touching with the way he carefully shifts his position to be more comfortable and not to accidentally hurt him. Eddie wants to say something sassy and flirting, mention something about Buck being the most attentive and caring nurse he’s had but before he opens his mouth, Buck kisses him again.

“Wait, Buck—” Eddie pulls away from Buck (he does it very reluctantly but he needs to know) to look into his eyes. “What about Taylor?”

“Now you’re thinking about Taylor?” Buck asks with amusement. “Taylor is my friend. We’re better as friends rather than a couple.”

“So why did you go on a date with her tonight?”

“I’ve never said I was going on a date. I just said that I’m going out with Taylor. You just assumed it’s a date.” Buck points out, slightly grinning.

“And you didn’t correct me.” Eddie adds accusatory. “You’d spare me a lot of misery.”

“If I had even the slightest suspicion you might be in love with me, I would have acted sooner.”

“I thought I was very obvious. Everyone told me that, even Ana said that I looked like a lovesick fool when she saw us together.” Eddie admits honestly. “I made you Christopher’s legal guardian, wasn’t it obvious enough?”

“Uh, no? I mean… I was wondering if it means more but I don’t want to jump into conclusions and give myself false hope. So I’d rather not think about it too much.” Buck explains shyly. “I didn’t want to destroy our friendship. I could live with unrequited love but not without my favourite Diaz boys.”

“We’re both dumbasses then.” Eddie laughs and kisses his best friend again.

⸙

“I must admit, your ideas might not be the smoothest but they definitely work on Buck.” Eddie hears Taylorʼs amused voice behind his back and he turns around to face her.

Itʼs an early evening but the whole team is at Diaz house (or, to be more specific, at Buckley—Diaz house because Buck has officially moved in a few days ago) to celebrate Eddieʼs comeback to the 118. Taylorʼs here too because Buck insisted on inviting her—even though Eddie wasnʼt ecstatic. He knows that she is no threat to his relationship but heʼs still a little bit cautious.

“What ideas?” He asks curiously.

“Donʼt play dumb, Diaz. You have always found a way to keep me away from him.” Taylor laughs heartily. “I get it, I really get it. You just want to protect him. But you donʼt have to worry, I have no intention of stealing him or hurting him.”

“Okay, maybe I was trying to keep him as far from you as possible. I didnʼt like you, I didnʼt trust you. Hell, I still have trouble trusting you. But Buck likes you and I trust him.” Eddie shrugs. “And maybe, maybe youʼre not as bad as Iʼve thought.”

“I take that as a compliment.” Taylor grins and takes a sip of the drink she has in her hands. “After you were shot... We thought for a brief moment that maybe we should try, be together but it didnʼt last long. Sure, we have a great chemistry but we want different things in life. Buck wants a family and Iʼm not thinking about it. I donʼt think Iʼm a good material for a wife or a mother. Probably not.” She says honestly. Eddie detects a note of regret, maybe a grief in her voice but he doesnʼt want to pry; they donʼt have this kind of relationship to tell about their secrets.

“Youʼre probably too hard for yourself.” He cuts in anyway.

“Maybe.” She chuckles. “But let me finish. My first priority is my work and Buckʼs first priority are his Diaz boys and it was easy to notice it so our relationship wouldnʼt work anyway. Especially after he told me about your will. Something this big as making Buck legally tied to your family would be problematic if you two were in relationships with other people. And the fact that you two are in love. When I met Buck again, I couldnʼt understand at first why you were always so pissed off when I was around. Iʼve tried to be nice but you were always so sarcastic and dismissive. But then I was enlightened... You were just jealous because youʼre in love with him too. Do you know how our dates,” she makes an air quote, “looked like? I was trying to convince him that his feelings are not one-sided and he was repeating that you would never fall in love with him. That was very exhausting.”

“That sounds very much like Buck.” Eddie sighs heavily. “If Iʼm honest, I have fallen for his idiot ass embarrassingly fast. It just took me a long time to realize this.” He admits. “Sometimes Iʼm still surprised he fell in love with me.”

“Youʼre the finest dilf in LA with the softest heart, whatʼs not to love? Itʼs not surprising he fell in love with you.”

“Did you just call me the finest dilf in LA?” Eddie asks, completely surprised and amused at the same time.

“I have eyes, Diaz, and I can admit it even though the mentioned dilf is not a fan of mine.” She answers with a smirk.

“Are you calling my boyfriend dilf?” They hear Buck’s voice and immediately turn around. “If I didn’t know you, I’d think you’re hitting on Eddie.” He adds and kisses Eddie on the cheek. It’s new, fresh and even though Eddie loves Buck’s affectionate gestures, it still makes him blush.

“Please, as if I ever had a chance.” Taylor sniggers. “You two are so disgustingly into each other, I doubt you’d notice anyone else. Oh, and Buckley? You owe me fifty bucks.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow, looking from Taylor to Buck curiously.

“We had a bet and Buck lost it.” The reporter explains and she looks very pleased with herself. “We were betting how long it would take you to ask Buck to move in. I told him you wouldn’t want to waste more time but he didn’t want to believe me.”

Eddie smiles widely.

“You were right, Evan. She’s not that bad at all.”

#911 #evan buckley #eddie diaz #taylor kelly #buddie #buck x eddie #buddie fic #buddie ficlet #buddie fics #buck x eddie fic #911 fic #911 fanfiction #buddie fanfiction #lucy writes #lucy's attempt to write

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greenygreenland · 3 years

Text

What Ray and Norman are like in a relationship (xreader)

-i primarily write for fem reader, but you could always change the pronouns if you’d like -aged up characters

Ray:

-you start out as friends/family -he’s quiet, but makes good jokes -he reads a lot (we all know why) -so it’s a struggle to get him out of his hiding place in the library -if you don’t manage to get him out of there -you sit with him and read instead -sometimes you read to him -sometimes you both read next to each other -or fall asleep together -ray nods off to sleep when his books are boring -you know he doesn’t really like to study

-yet he does it anyway -to make it more bearable, you hum/sing a tune -or keep him company -over time, you grow closer -little moments become more intimate -and you find yourself staring at him more often -ray’s sitting under that tree again? -you’re staring -he’s eating dinner? -you’re staring -he’s so handsome so of course you stare -he’s a bit of a dork sometimes and you find that cute -ray sometimes stares at you, but he knows how to hide it -norman catches him one time -he hasn’t stopped teasing ray about it -’i had a feeling you’d fall for her’ -’shut up norman’ -one time you talked to emma and started gushing at ray -it was completely accidental -’i was reading this book and it reminded me of ray. the main character was so cool and--’ -’you’re all red (Y/n)! do you like ray?!’ -emma can keep secrets when she wants to, but she needs to tell someone -that someone is norman -’(Y/n) likes ray, norman!’ -’i had a feeling she did’ -they decide to set you two up one day -because they KNOW none of you will acknowledge your feelings for each other -and bam, you’re a couple -ray isn’t big with PDA -but he will hold your hand and give you a head pat -he will also let you lean against his shoulder/sleep on his lap (he secretly loves that) -awkward being a couple at first but you both eventually get the hang of it -you’re blushy and flustered a lot in the beginning -and so is ray -he will make the first move tho and kiss you unexpectedly -he’s suave asf -will use cheesy pickup lines for the heck of it -he knows how to make you laugh and smile -will make you feel hot and bothered -smooth criminal but says stupid shiet like this -’are you the sun? because you’re really hot’ -he makes these tho because it makes you laugh -likes taking pictures of you (if you want to) -some are of you smiling/laughing -others are you doing mundane things like sitting and reading -even if you’re not photogenic ray thinks you look beautiful 24/7 -if you have low self esteem he will remind you that you’re amazing -’i look ugly in that one’ -’shut up, you look drop-dead gorgeous in every single one of them’ -’you’re just saying that’ -’are you saying i don’t know what i’m talking about?’ -he’ll write a whole essay to prove why you’re so amazing until you stop doubting yourself -he thinks that’s stupid because you’re The Best -will kiss you goodnight -and accept hugs before bedtime -love you with all his heart and will be overprotective if he needs to be -carefully watched when you’re around other guys -and has never been caught -besides that one time when emma found him hiding under a table

Norman: -you also start out as friends because you gotta take it slow -norman admired you from afar -he’s super smiley around you -and it makes you melt because he’s so soft and beautiful and kind -that’s how you know you’ve fallen for him -you’re absolutely lovestruck -same goes for him -he loves you for your personality (and your looks) -but mostly because you’re you -and that’s what makes you special to him -he’s a great cook so you cook dinner with him a lot -and he loves watching you hum while chopping stuff -or feeding the little ones -during playtime sometimes you sit alone -so he joins you -and listens to you talk about everything and anything -he likes hearing your voice -it’s so sweet and melodic -if it’s not he still loves it -he taught you how to play chess one day -you didn’t get it at first and almost gave up -but he helped you -and now you’re a master at it -but everyone knows that mama is better (whoops) -if you draw norman watches -you teach him how to draw -he picks it up pretty fast and ends up being better than you -’how are you so fast?! it took me years to get to this stage!’ -’i really have no idea...’ -which discourages you but isn’t surprising -you still sing better than him -if you don’t, then at least you can do a split -he tried one time and almost sprained an ankle trying to get up -these small moments eventually get more intimate -and you both recognise your feelings of love -norman wants to confess but he’s worried it might ruin your friendship -ray becomes his wingman -and he helps set you two up -emma cheers you on and becomes your wingman -eventually norman confesses first, but he can’t finish the sentence halfway through -’(Y/n)! I-I...I li--like...’ -he’s so red that you almost feel bad for him -but it’s really cute -you cut him off with a peck on the cheek -’i like you too’ -he nearly faints -i know I write him off as sly and smooth -but we all know he’s a blushy mess -tries to be suave, but always ends up getting too flustered and embarrassed -copied ray one time but failed miserably -you end up being the suave one -if not, then you both are blushy asf at first -eventually you both get the hang of it -but norman still gets flustered easily -he loves running his hands through your hair -and when you sleep you’re so cute -doesn’t mind PDA unless he gets flustered -openly hugs you -a lot -can’t kiss you because it makes him blush too much -gets hot and bothered really easily -if you smile a certain way at him, it will set him off -’stop that’ -’stop what?’ -’th-that. the way you’re looking at me...’ -you tease him for it -norman watches you carefully when you’re around other guys -makes it clear that you’re his -and you make it clear that he’s yours -norman would literally die for you -you’d do the same for him (but he’d never let you)

#ray the promised neverland #norman x reader #ray x reader #the promised neverland #yakusoku no nebarando #ynn #tpn #tpn ray #tpn norman #ynn ray #ynn norman #tpn emma #ynn emma #i always write off #norman as #suave and sly asf #but he probs isn't #unless he wanted to #ray on the other hand

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tobesolonely · 4 years

Text

jealousy

a/n: hello! this is a little one shot that’s apart of my dad!harry universe! you dont have to read the original one to understand this one shot but if you’d like to, ill link it here . i hope everyone enjoys! please reblog and leave feedback if you do<33

summary: y/n and harry have another child, and their first born is a little skeptical on the idea of being a big sister.

warnings: none

word count: ~1.7k

my ko-fi! thank you :)

After hours of excruciating contractions, a backache like nothing you’ve ever felt in your life, and the horrid discomfort that came with pushing, you forgot all about your displeasure when Harry grabbed your hand, eyes sparkling, and said: “He’s beautiful, Y/N. Oliver’s here.”

When you found out you were having a baby boy, you were ecstatic. You and Harry already had a daughter, a fiery six-year-old named Allison, or Ally, as she preferred, and wanted to try for a boy. Girls run on both sides of your family, so you were pleasantly surprised when you found out you were expecting a baby boy. However, your daughter was not so happy about this news.

At first, you and Harry thought that the farther along you got in your pregnancy, the more your daughter would warm up to the idea of being a big sister. Unfortunately, the opposite happened. She became withdrawn and had outbursts that you would describe as “unpredictable and unprovoked.” You tried using your own experience as an older sibling to help your daughter know what to expect. You let her pick the color for the nursery. Harry got a t-shirt made that said, “Best big sister ever!” but she never wanted to wear it. Despite your greatest efforts, nothing changed your daughter’s attitude. She was much like you in that aspect— once she had an opinion on something, it was difficult to get her to see things from a different perspective. Still, you were looking forward to your eldest meeting the newest addition to the family.

After a few hours of skin to skin, feeding, and napping (because everyone knows you sleep when the baby sleeps), Harry breaks the silence. “Told my mum she can come over with Ally and Gem, now. Are yeh okay with visitors?” His voice is scratchy from not speaking for so long, and he’s whispering in an effort to not wake up your son.

“That’s fine,” you respond, rubbing sleep out of your eyes. “Just exhausted. Maybe a short visit?” Harry nods, telling you he already suggested they don’t stay for long. You look over at your son, starting to feel a little anxious. Ally had six months to adjust to the idea of having a sibling, and she was upset about it right up until the very end. When you went into labor, as Harry frantically got the car packed, she stood off to the side and said nothing. When Harry’s mom arrived as you were getting set to leave, the two of you told your daughter to be good, gave her hugs and kisses, and reminded her how loved she was. Still, Ally said nothing. When Anne waved as Harry backed the car out of the driveway, Ally had a look on her face that she didn’t often wear— a look that could best be described as pure hurt.

“What’s on your mind?” While you were lost in your thoughts, Harry moved from the chair near the window to the one next to your bed.

“I’m just worried about how Ally’s gonna react to him,” you gesture toward your son, who was still fast asleep in his bassinet. “Did you see how she looked at us when we left? Hardly said a word to either one of us.”

Harry hums thoughtfully, thinking back on the earlier day's events. “Guess you’re right, now that ‘m thinkin’ about it. She didn’t seem excited at all, did she?”

You shake your head, tears starting to form in your eyes. Harry’s expression softens, and he reaches to gently cup your face. “Hey, don’ gotta cry, lovie. Just wait ‘til she sees him. Promise she’ll fall in love jus’ like we did, trust me.” He wipes a stray tear from your cheek and gives you a reassuring smile.

“You’re right,” you tell him, feeling silly for getting so emotional so quickly. “I know it’s a big adjustment. My mom told me I was the same way when my little sister was born.” Harry nods, retracting his hand from your face and reaching to grab a tissue from the table beside your bed.

“See? Who woulda thought yeh didn’t like your sister when she was born? The two of yeh are inseparable at this point, know she’d be right here beside you if she wasn’t away at university.”

You’re about to respond when a gentle knock at the door interrupts your conversation. Harry’s eyes light up as he turns to see his mother, Gemma, and your baby girl all walk into the room. Gemma is holding a big bouquet of flowers, Anne has a bunch of balloons with “It’s a boy!” written in curly script, and Ally is clutching onto her grandmother’s hand, a stuffed bear that you don’t recognize as being hers in tow.

“C’mere and give Daddy a hug,” Harry immediately stands up and goes to pick up your daughter, twirling her around. “Missed yeh so much, love bug. Were you good for grandma and auntie Gem?” Harry’s voice is still quiet, as Oliver was still sleeping, and no one wanted to deal with a fussy baby at the moment.

“Yes, daddy.” Ally answers quietly and shortly, looking down at the floor. Harry notices this and sets her down, kneeling to make eye contact with her.

“What’s wrong, Ally? Mumma and Daddy have noticed that yeh haven’t been yourself lately. Something botherin’ you?” Harry questions, already knowing why she was so upset but wanting to give her a chance to freely express how she was feeling.

“S’just…” she says, tugging on her shirt and stretching it out, a bad nervous habit she developed. “I don’ think I want a brother, Daddy. Auntie Gem said it would be fun, but I jus’ don’t think so.” Your daughter has a look of genuine worry on her face. At this point, Gemma and Anne have made their way over to you, quietly offering congratulations and gushing over Oliver.

“What makes yeh think it won’t be fun, bug? What are some things you’re worried about?” Harry takes one of her little hands in his, rubbing gentle circles on her thumb. Ally harshly rubs at her eyes, and you know this means she’s about to start crying.

“Jus’ think you and Mumma won’t love me anymore… because you’ll be too busy playing with him,” She looks over in her brother’s direction, not even wanting to say his name. “I bet he’ll get more cuddles than me.”

Your heart breaks at the fact that your daughter thinks you and Harry don’t have enough love in your heart for her and her baby brother. “Ally, come over here and lie next to Mumma,” you call out quietly. Harry picks her up and brings her over to you, laying her on your bed cautiously to make sure she doesn’t accidentally get tangled in any of your IV’s.

“Baby, there’s nothing and no one on this planet that could make me and Daddy love you any less. We have enough love in our hearts for you and Oliver. Do you understand?” You ask. She doesn’t say anything.

“D’ya wanna hold him?” Harry offers, looking at his mom and sister who have hopeful looks in their eyes. They know how difficult it’s been for Ally to accept a new sibling, as Anne and Gemma have both reassured you countless times when you’ve vented to them about it.

“I guess,” she mumbles, looking at her hands. Harry tries a different approach.

“I see yeh had a new bear in your hand when yeh walked in. Is that for your brother?” Ally looks at the bear that she had discarded on the chair and nods slowly.

“Auntie Gem got Mumma flowers, an’ grandma got balloons. So I wanted to get something too,” she tells him, looking between yours and Harry’s faces. He smiles widely at this and reaches to grab the bear.

“That’s so thoughtful of yeh, bug. See? You’re a natural big sister! Did Auntie Gem teach you some things when I wasn’t around?” Ally chuckles at this, playing with the stuffed animal’s legs. “Do yeh wanna hold him and give him the bear, Ally?”

She quickly nods, a noticeable shift in her mood. Harry tries to hide his excitement as he walks over to Oliver’s bassinet, who was now starting to wake up. He coos when Harry picks him up, and you’re relieved when he doesn’t burst into tears like he has been for the past few hours.

“Hold your arms like this,” you demonstrate for your daughter, situating her body next to you so she could hold her brother without hurting him. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Gemma pull out her phone and start recording.

“Ready for him?” Harry questions. Ally nods and Harry slowly places her brother in her arms. “Make sure yeh hold the back of his head, bug. Can’t let it dangle.” You help her readjust her hand placement to offer more support to Oliver’s head. Ally looks up, a dimpled smile on her face.

“He’s so little!” She exclaims, staring back down at him in awe. You and Harry look at each other, tears filling your eyes for what felt like the thousandth time that day.

“He is, isn’t he?” You ask, quickly wiping under your eyes. Anne places her hand on your shoulder, looking down at her grandson with a look of pure adoration in her eyes.

“He’s beautiful,” she gushes, sounding slightly choked up. “He’s got eyes just like yours, Ally.” You see her smile at this, but she doesn’t look up, not wanting to stop staring at her new brother. She reaches carefully with the hand, not supporting her brother’s head to grab the stuffed bear she picked out for him, setting it next to him.

“This is for you, Olly,” she says, placing the bear beside him. “You can sleep with him every night!”

Harry glances at you again, a look of relief on his face. “Olly, is it, bug? He has a nickname just like yours,” he tells her, reaching over you to smooth her hair. “Ally and Olly. I like tha’.” Your heart is full, and your family is complete.

At least, for now.

#harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #dad!harry #harry styles fanfiction #jealousy #thanks for reading!

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ateezmakemeweep · 3 years

Text

richboy!yeosang (part 4)

word count: 7k

fluff

(part 3) (series masterlist)

when you look back on your pregnancy, you’re not gonna remember the rocky start you and yeosang both had.

your immense fear and yeosang’s anger and just an overall feeling of dread and hysteria that comes with an accidental pregnancy.

it’ll be all the little moments in between that stick with you, the cute stuff and the hard stuff and the wide range of emotions that didn’t even fully prepare you and yeosang for what was to come in parenthood.

three months:

“this is cute.”

you look over at yeosang holding a tiny pink onesie with the brightest smile on his face, strawberries and cherries scattered around the soft fabric.

you mirror his smile as you walk closer to him, cocking your head to the side as you narrow your eyes at him.

“just say you want it be a girl already. i know you do.”

it’d been the debate going on between you two for the past few weeks, you not admitting you want a boy and him not admitting he wants a girl; but you can just tell he does, little comments he makes and the things he picks out when you pop in stores during sunday errands.

“because it’s pink? it could be for a boy, too,” yeosang says, “that doesn’t mean anything.”

you bite back the smirk threatening to take over your face, not letting it slip that, sometimes, you’ll hear him talking quietly at night. speaking into the darkness about how much he’s wanted to have a little girl to spoil.

“but you can’t tell your mommy,” he teased, his voice in a hushed whisper.

he now also has a habit of slipping his hands under your shirt (or more often, his that you stole) and splaying his fingers across your warm skin.

your stomach is just starting to show, the slightest indication of a bump forming that made his heart warm way more than he ever expected to feel; he knew he’d love to see you pregnant but he had no idea how much it was really gonna effect him.

watching as your body transformed seamlessly in order to carry his child.

“not that we should keep secrets from mommy, she just already knows everything,” he corrects, grateful to have your face hidden in his chest so he doesn’t see you smile.

“i can’t wait for you to meet her. she’s gonna be a lot better at this than me but hopefully you like me, too, baby girl.”

and you don’t have the heart to tell him you hear him at night, nor do you have the heart to tell him the person growing inside of you won’t be able to hear him for a few more weeks.

but you love how quickly he’s grown comfortable with this idea of becoming a father, finding solace in speaking hushly and sweetly when no one but them are around to hear.

“it has nothing to do with that,” you squeak, poking at his chest and giggling when he grabs your hand. “i just know. i know everything, right?”

his eyes narrow suspiciously and you have to control the laugh threatening to bubble up from your chest, instead giggling more when he tosses the onesie in the cart and guides you in front of the cart.

your back is against his chest as you two push the cart together, lingering in the newborn section for far too long as you excitedly look through clothes, books, and toys you already know are gonna clutter the apartment before the baby’s arrival.

four months:

your eating habits before pregnancy were, admittedly, rather picky.

everyone in your life had always made fun of you for having the palate of a toddler, straying from anything that didn’t look appetizing or produced a mildly unpleasant smell.

that’s why, after tons of research and reading up on the journey of pregnancy, yeosang was humored to hear about ‘unusual cravings’ that come about in the first and second trimester.

“i don’t know, baby, i can’t see you eating anything too disgusting. you’re kind of picky.”

“you’re kind of picky,” you immaturely mock because if pregnancy brain is giving you anything, it’s a lack of witty comebacks and remarks to your smart ass boyfriend.

a snort leaves yeosang’s mouth as he piles fruit into the blender, being sure to add a few extra blueberries after the doctor told you guys it was a good power food to implement into your diet.

it was something that, no matter how hormonal and scatter-brained, you were noticing. how sweet and attentive and just... into the pregnancy he was.

it was almost shocking you, to be honest.

because you knew yeosang was sweet, that the tough guy persona he attempts to put up around others is just a macho act, but this whole journey is really making you see just how caring your boyfriend is.

how he’s so accommodating to you and will drop everything the moment you open your mouth to ask him for something.

how when your parents were, while in the end thrilled to be grandparents, hesitant and nervous and asked if you wanted to move back in for help, insisted he would take care of you and the baby and they’d have nothing to worry about.

how everything that should be difficult during this is just so easy because of him, your level of comfort and happiness exponentially high.

he places your smoothie on the table before leaving a parting kiss on your head, telling you that he’ll be home early and will see you later. you smile and wave happily before resting back on the couch, sipping at your drink as you catch up on school work.

and it’s that same sight that greets yeosang when he comes home a few hours later, emptied cup on the table and your closed laptop resting on your stomach as you nap soundly.

a smile lights up his face and a warmth spreads over his entire body upon seeing you, any stress or irritation from his work day quickly fading away as he makes his way over to you.

he bends down and brushes hair from your face, his eyes roaming every feature; he’s excited to see what your child is gonna look like.

if she’ll (because something is just telling him it’s a girl, or maybe it’s just his wishful thinking and hopes), have your eyes or his nose. if she’s gonna have your personality, sweet and gentle with just enough spunk, or be more like him.

his eyes travel down to your shirt-covered stomach, a small smile on his face as he recalls the first time you noticed the change.

it was after you took a bath, body aching and sore as your body adjusted to morning sickness.

it was something so small and subtle but you had noticed just before wrapping the towel around yourself, your eyes narrowing as you turned to the side.

“yeosang?” he heard from the bedroom, pushing his laptop and books away as he makes his way to the en suite.

there was no sense of urgency in your voice but he still felt the overwhelmingly need to get to you, some innate protectiveness in him spiking anytime you call his name these days.

“yeah, my love?” he hums, his eyes widening and a smirk crossing his face when he’s greeted by your naked body.

“oh?” he hums, making his way over and gripping your bare hips. “i would’ve joined you in here earlier if i knew you wanted to-”

“not that, you perv,” you whine, pushing him away lightly before placing your hand on your lower stomach.

he notices your placement and immediately snaps out of his lustful daze, his eyes watching you carefully for any hint of pain or discomfort; but instead, he’s greeted with the sight of excitement shining in your eyes.

“does my stomach look different to you?” you ask, the small smile on your face making his heat pang in his chest. “there’s a little bump.”

“well no shit, baby,” he teases lightly, his hands going back on your stomach as he looks at you through the mirror. “gotta fit her in there somehow.”

you bite back the smirk on your lips as you meet his gaze, your eyebrow raising before he throws his hands up innocently.

“or him. gotta find them in there somehow.”

you let out a huff before rolling your eyes, turning back to look at yourself in the mirror.

you knew you were gonna see some sort of change soon but it’s like finally seeing it begin is making it all sink in. that you’re gonna get bigger and rounder and really start to look and feel more pregnant.

and while you obviously know that’s a part of this, that makes you a little nervous, too. watching as your body changes and you become more-

“you look beautiful.”

you heart jumps at the compliment still, a small smile on your face as you meet his gaze. it’s soft and warm and sweet and only makes your smile grow bigger, your head cocked to the side as you stare back at him.

he didn’t know if you needed to hear that right now, if the way you were looking at yourself was just curious and accepting or if you’re brain was gonna start becoming insecure, but he just felt like he needed to say it.

you don’t know what to say so you don’t say anything, pressing up on your toes to peck his lips sweetly.

you giggle into this kiss when, after you try to pull away, he drags you back to him and deepens it. a squeal leaves your mouth when his hands grip your thighs and pull you up, your legs wrapping immediately around his waist.

your towel falls to the ground with a plop as he makes his way to your bed, throwing you down and smiling wider as your giggle rings through the air.

the gentle lull of fingers running against your skin stirs you awake, a quiet groan escaping you before your eyes flutter open. an uncontrollable smile crosses your lips when you’re able to make out yeosang, his warm hands on your stomach and his soft eyes staring at you.

“hey baby.”

“hi,” you mumble tiredly, your arms outstretched before he chuckles and collapses on top of you. he makes sure to hold himself above you to not crush yo entirely, burying his face in your neck to press short, ticklish kisses.

“you smell good.”

“i haven’t left this couch, i can’t imagine how.”

he pulls back to look down at you, his hand combing though your messy hair and a laugh threatening to leave his mouth.

“have you had anything to eat yet?”

and he has to hold back a gag when you tell him you’ve only had your peanut butter and cheese, the bizarre craving that left you both shocked and surprised.

five months:

“alright, everyone who thinks it’s a girl, say i.”

you roll your eyes when you hear yeosang’s voice boom the loudest “i,” quickly followed by mingi, hongjoong, seonghwa and san.

“alright, so now everyone’s who correct in thinking it’s a boy, say i.”

“i.”

“i-”

“i! will bet my entire bank account that it’s a girl,” san interrupts, nearly throwing his fork across the table as he points it threateningly toward the ‘boy side.’

it was the day before your 18-week check up and nothing could’ve prepared you for the chaos that was to come.

the boys had made it a point to come over once a week ever since you told them the news, swapping between ordering food and bringing home cooked meals to fully prepare for their new lives as uncles.

it was a healthy mix of of fun banter and arguing before an aggressive explosion of debates like these: guessing the sex of the baby, fighting for spots as godparents and seeing who’s meal is gonna satisfy your pregnant self the most.

“anyone need $40?” jongho asks, him and wooyoung the most confident you’ve ever seen that you’re gonna have a baby boy - you wish you were as confident as all of them, because you really don’t know what’s gonna come tomorrow.

“fuck you!” san whines, a giggle leaving you as your hand rests on your stomach and you watch the boys argue back and forth.

yeosang kisses the side of your head as he gathers the plates and cups, seonghwa and yunho quietly talking to you and asking how you’ve been doing.

they knew it was hard for you to make the decision to not enroll in classes for the spring semester, knowing that the later months of pregnancy and baby’s arrival were far too close to finals time.

but you seem to be happy about that decision it seems, basking in the easy going pregnancy you’ve had thus far.

“i’ll probably go back when she’s one or something,” you say absentmindedly, the plan you started concocting in your head when you and yeosang talked about what you were gonna do.

“my parents said they’d be more than happy to watch her on the days i have class so i think it’ll be okay. i’m definitely going back, though.”

seonghwa and mingi shared a look with matching smiles on their faces, something that went unnoticed to you before the other boys quickly came over and stole your attention away.

“looks like you got her thinking it’s a girl, too,” seonghwa mumbles to yeosang, the boy biting back a smile.

he overheard you and couldn’t control the happiness blooming in his chest, watching with a smile as he watches you giggle and hit san and wooyoung’s arms playfully.

by the time the boys left, absolutely overstaying their welcome as they do every time, you were exhausted. laid out on the couch with your head on the arm, eyes threatening to close before yeosang came over and leant down next to you.

“you okay?”

“yeah,” you yawn, running your fingers through his hair lazily. “they’re just a little exhausting.”

“a little?” he hums skeptically, a smirk crossing your face as you hold your arms out to him.

“what?” he smiles, eyes lighting up as he looks at you.

“help me up.”

he pulls you up before scooping you into his arms, a content hum leaving your mouth as he walks toward the bedroom. he places you gently on the bed before pecking your head with a kiss, mumbling for you to change while he gets you a glass of water.

this was the new night time routine like clockwork, yeosang more often that not carrying your exhausted body in before setting you up with water and waiting until you fell asleep soundly on his chest.

he comes in a few moments later to see you already in bed, a smile lighting up your face that has him speeding up to get to you.

your eyes are drooping with your hold on him tight, soft mumbles of “i love you,” in your ear, about to succumb to sleep before you hear his deep voice begin to speak.

“baby, you still up?”

“hm?” you hum sleepily, your chin resting on his chest as you stare up at him with tired eyes.

he smiles softly upon seeing your face, his hand reaching out to caress your cheek gently.

there’s been something about seeing you like this that makes it feels like he’s falling for you again, unable to fully grasp just how much he loves you sometimes. it’s a feeling he once thought was scary, one that he thought he wasn’t even capable of.

but he sees now that’s not the case at all; that, if anything, the feeling only gets stronger and more prevalent the more you two go through.

“you know i really don’t care if it’s a boy or a girl, right?” he asks, the softness and sweetness of his tone making your tired state lessen. “i’m gonna be happy no matter what tomorrow.”

you can’t even control the giggle that leaves your mouth, reaching up to place a kiss on his lips.

“i love you,” you tell him, humor and amusement heavy in your tone not taking away from how true it is.

and from the slight pinkness on his cheeks and the scoff that leaves his mouth, you think he knows you’re only making fun of him a little.

“of course i know that, silly,” you tell him, his eyes narrowing before you snake your hand down and play with his fingers.

“but i do think you’ve convinced me it’s a girl, too,” you sigh out, your head resting back on his chest and your eyes closing. “i’ll also be happy either way, though. i think...we’re gonna be good at this.”

the words are quiet and sweet and making his heart jump. but when he looks down to meet your gaze again, he sees your fast asleep against his chest.

“so....” san drags out at next week’s dinner, the seven boys around the table looking at you and yeosang expectantly. “did you guys find out?”

you and yeosang share a smile and nod at them, the table erupting into a burst of chatter and demands to be told who was right.

“you’re not gonna tell us, are you?” seonghwa asks, the twinge in both your eyes making him far too skeptical.

a smirk crosses your face as you shake your head no, groans of protest and silent curses filling the apartment. they harass you and yeosang for the rest of the night, going as far as to put up money and chore work to know the answer.

but you insist that you’re keeping it a surprise, not even letting mingi or yunho know even though you and yeosang decided that, if they want t, they’re gonna have to be the godparents.

six months:

"this is pretty," you say quietly, tapping your finger on a light yellow that has yeosang’s face falling into a grimace.

"it's not for a nursery, y/n," he mumbles from behind you, the close proximity of his voice causing you to jump.

you hadn't realized he had moved closer to you as you browsed, his chest now pressed up right against your back. you feel the breath of his words grazing your skin as he looks over your shoulder.

"how 'bout that?" he asks, his arm brushing yours as he points to the most hideous shade of brown you'd ever seen.

"that is so ugly," you bluntly state, his deep chuckle rumbling in your ear as he pulls his arm back to rest on your shoulder. you try not to jump at the open affection and touch he's giving you, his hand ever so often squeezing gently.

"oooh, what about this?" you ask, craning your neck up to show him the color sample.

your cheeks nearly touch from how close your faces are now, holding your breath as you watch him look at it before meeting your gaze. you resist the urge to swallow nervously, his teasing eyes now looking right into yours.

"pretty," he mumbles, "it'll do."

“pretty,” you say, laid out on the floor as your eyes roam the freshly painted wall yeosang just finished. “it’ll do.”

“oh will it? i’m glad,” yeosang quips sarcastically, paint on his face and his hair a mess of waves as you giggle into your hand.

keeping the sex of the baby a secret, unfortunately, meant that you and yeosang had no help in painting the nursery.

it was the second guest room that you two never even touched, the white and beige walls in desperate need of some color for your baby’s arrival.

today reminded you heavily of your and yeosang’s first official date, when you shopped around the store with him to pick out the paint for his pool house.

you remember feeling so nervous and out of your element during that time, his chest against your back as you pushed the cart making your heart pound in your chest.

your cheeks warm when your hear his chuckle, his footsteps moving toward you until his arms reach around you to grasp the bar of the cart.

"you know, you talk a lot of shit one minute and then get unbelievably nervous the next," he lowly mumbles in your ear. "quite easily, might i add."

"i'm not nervous," you snap, placing your hands in the middle of the bar as you to start to push it down the aisle. "what gave you that impression?"

“baby, can you hand me that brush please?” he hums softly, your eyes moving to him atop the ladder.

you nod your head with a small smile, doing your best to get up despite the size of your growing stomach; you had thought at this point you’d actually be a little tired of being pregnant but, much to your surprise, it wasn’t annoying you too much.

yet.

“here you go,” you squeak, throwing it up to him just for it to fly past him and clatter back onto the floor by your feet.

he presses his lips together so he doesn’t burst out laughing, his brow raised before you narrow your eyes. it’s a challenge but you eventually bend down and get it, yeosang’s deep chuckles in the background only making you pout.

“i was gonna start helping you again but i don’t think i should,” you say, defiance and a bratty edge in your tone that he’s secretly missed. “how can you laugh at me?”

“you’re just cute, love, i’m sorry,” he smiles, walking a few steps down and pecking a kiss on your head before continuing with the third wall.

you decided on three pastel blue walls with one accent wall of wallpaper, a mural of animals and pretty landscape where you’ll eventually put the baby’s name.

“we still have to decide on a name, you know,” you hum softly, looking around the room.

it stills fills you with a little disbelief that this is what you guys are preparing for, talking about a name for your child and preparing a room for the baby that’s quickly gonna make their appearance into the world.

“i know,” he smiles softly, eyes roaming your face to see it’s calm and tranquil. his number one goal during these past months was to keep you as calm and content as possible, the shaky start to the pregnancy still making him feel guilty.

he turns back to continue the last bit of paint, eyes tired and body aching from hours of painting up and down the walls. you insisted that they hire someone, knowing you wouldn’t be that much help, but he thought this was better.

because similar to you, he couldn’t help but think back to when you painted his pool house together.

when you two were just starting out and he was every bit as nervous and unfamiliar as you. he didn’t think he was deserving of you but he took you anyway, unable to control the feeling in his chest or overwhelmingly desire to see you.

watch your reactions and how you talk to him, even if most of the time you were yelling or rolling your eyes.

“this looks like the same blue we painted the pool house, no?” he asks suddenly, your head snapping up before a smile lights up your face.

you knew he probably remembered the date but you weren’t sure if he’d been thinking the same thing today too.

“it does,” you smile, walking over and picking up your paintbrush. you dip it in the tray and watch the bristles absorb the pretty blue, peeking up at him to see his eyebrows pinched in concentration.

“i think i like this one a little bit better though.”

“me too,” he hums back, a smile on his face that makes your heart jump.

he finishes the wall a few moments later, you still brushing the paint through the tray absentmindedly. his presence in front of you halts your movements, his hand reaching down to help you up gently.

you giggle and immediately accept his hand, pecking his lips as you apologize for not doing more.

“stop,” he chastises, voice soft and sweet as he places a gentle peck on your nose. “you didn’t have to do anything, i just wanted you with me.”

“yeah?” you quip softly, your bottom lip slipping between your teeth as you stare up at him. his eyes darken ever so slightly and you have to resist the urge to laugh, tightening your hold on the paintbrush hidden behind your back.

“mhm,” he hums lowly, his paint-covered hand reaching out to hold your cheek. “are you hungry? i can make you something or we can-”

and even despite his sweet words and even sweeter intentions, it doesn’t stop you from reaching out and smearing the paintbrush across his cheek.

and that's how the first tragedy started, you so boldly dipping your finger in the tray and poking two blue dots on his face.

he stared at you in shock for a second, like he was trying to decipher if you really just did that, while you held back the laugh desperate to bubble out of your chest.

"you didn't."

"i did," you say playfully, "and it shut you up for a few seconds so i just might do it-"

roller in hand, he's quick to smear it over your entire cheek, wet paint grazing your skin and the stray hairs that have fallen out of your bun. your gasp and open-mouthed stare causes his deep chuckle to echo through the pool-house, a sound so foreign to those walls.

"you got my whole face!" you yelp, holding your own roller out like it's a weapon. "i did two little specks on your cheek."

"two specks too many and now you look ridiculous. so i hope you're hap-"

you quickly roll the paint over both his cheeks now, first the right then the left, before dropping it in the pan and running over to the safe zone in the kitchen.

a smile crosses your face as you look at him with a giggle, the boy just standing there in disbelief before his neck snaps up to look at you.

"you're done," is all you hear his deep voice say, the dark teasing causing excitement to run through you until you see him going over to pick up the roller you dropped.

he only stares at you in shock for a few seconds, eyes flashing and face twisting before he shakes his head and grabs onto your waist tightly.

“you’re done.”

you shake your head as a teasing smile makes it way across your face, attempting to run out of the nursery to prevent another paint tragedy from occurring.

but he catches you gently around the waist before you can get further, his arms quickly scooping you up. he plops you down on the couch despite your protests, watching with soft amusement as you giggle and shake your head rapidly.

the rest of the night goes by in a flurry of teasing from him and giggles from you, sharing pizza and soda before it feels as if you hadn’t slept in hours; but this was one of the first days you’ve gone without a nap, your body on top of yeosang despite the ever-present fear you’re gonna crush him.

“if- if i get too heavy, just tell me to get off,” you mumble tiredly, your legs between his as your head rests on his chest.

he chuckles lightly against your head, wrapping his arms around your back and tightening his hold on you immediately.

“that’ll never happen,” he mumbles against your head, feeling your smile against his chest before your breaths even out and you’re fast asleep.

seven months:

it was at this point in the pregnancy you felt as if the happy glow was wearing off.

your stomach was huge, your back was aching, and any time you looked in the mirror, it’s like you didn’t recognize yourself.

your body wasn’t your body anymore and even your face looked different, cheeks fatter and nose wider in a way that, tonight in particular, was getting to you.

“he hates me. i know he does,” you cry out, mingi and yunho looking at you like you’ve grown five heads.

because after you slightly burnt the cookies in the oven you’d been craving, yeosang out with wooyoung and san helping them set up apartment furniture, you’d been on a hormonal, downward spiral since.

you felt big and ugly and undesirable.

you felt as if you looked miserable and depressed and like you didn’t wanna be a mother at all.

you felt like yeosang didn’t love you anymore, sick of doting on you and putting up with your naps and every thing else you’ve annoyed him with for the past seven months.

“i hate the guy most days, y/n, but i can tell you right now he loves you more than anyone else in the world. it’s the only reason i haven’t actually beat his ass.”

yunho lets out a snort, less at mingi’s words and more so at picturing his sweet fiancé beating someone up. but when the boy shoots his head toward him, he sends a smile and nod his way.

“mingi’s right, babe. he could absolutely beat him up and he hasn’t. because we know how much he loves you.”

“he might love me but he doesn’t like me,” you whine, tears brimming your eyes and threatening to overflow.

usually, the second these two boys see you on the verge of tears, they hate it. will do everything in their power to stop it because they hate seeing you so sad and upset.

but this is making them almost wanna laugh, knowing the hormones that come with the later part of the pregnancy can be very daunting.

“he likes you and he loves you, y/n, i can promise you that,” yunho says, the smile on his face making you pull your eyebrows together and let out more cries.

it’s upon yeosang opening the door a few moments later that yunho and mingi shoot up, rushing toward the boy who looks at them in surprise.

“what the-”

“she’s been crying all day and thinks you hate her.”

“actually, she thinks you love her but don’t like her,” mingi whispers, yeosang’s face twisting into one of confusion.

but before he can ask them to explain, or ask what the hell you even meant by that, he hears cries coming from the couch that have him rushing over before the two boys can say anything else.

“hey, my love. what’s wrong?” he asks, plopping down next to you and pulling you into him.

you slump against him immediately, missing him and his warmth despite the fact he was only gone for a few hours; you were usually clingy and needy at night but it appeared to get worse these days.

you only slump against him and shake your head, suddenly embarrassed and upset and just wanting everything to be over. you just want this baby out of you already, you want your body back to normal and you want to stop feeling like this some days.

the faint sound of the front door closing goes unheard by both of you, yeosang’s arm around you and your head on his chest before he pulls back and looks down at you.

“why’d they tell me you were crying all day?” yeosang questions softly, a frown on his face because the thought physically pains him. “and why do you think i don’t like you? i love you, baby.”

“i know.... i know you love me but i don’t think you like me anymore,” you whine, a smirk threatening to take over his face.

but he knows the last thing to do in front of a pregnant, hormonal woman is to laugh in the face of her emotional breakdown. so instead, he remains soft and gentle, pulling you on top of him and brushing his fingers through your hair as you whimper into him.

“i’m so sick of being pregnant, yeosang. i just feel like i’ve been annoying and tired and sleeping all day. i’m so big and ugly and my face has changed and i-”

“stop.”

his voice is deep and harsh and immediate, the command in his voice that you know means there will be no exceptions.

he sees your eyebrows pulled together in protest, his face softening before he cups yours and gently caresses your skin; he knows he can’t imagine how tiresome it is to go through this process but he also knows by no means are you ugly or incapable of doing this.

“i know you’re tired of this, baby, and i’m sorry. but you’re not ugly. you couldn’t be ugly if you tired, pretty girl,” he says, the pout on your lips making him smile and press a kiss on your mouth.

“and you gotta eat to keep my child healthy and strong, no?” he asks, his eyebrow raised as his hands lower to your round stomach.

he thought the transformation was amazing actually, what the human body could do and watching you become like this just to fit something he put inside you.

“so if you weren’t getting bigger, we’d be having problems. you’re doing so good, baby, you really are. and you’re gonna be such a good mom, too. you only have a little bit more to get through, okay?”

his words calm you as much as they make your heart flutter, the tears now swarming in your eyes one from happiness.

“so you do like me?”

and he didn’t expect that to be the next thing you say after that, a deep chuckle bubbling from his mouth that makes a wet giggle leave your own.

“yes, baby. i like you.”

eight months:

you thought nothing was gonna beat the panic you felt when you first found out you were pregnant.

your shaking hands and pounding heart and the overwhelming fear that you and yeosang weren’t gonna be able to get through this.

now, though, the fears feel much more real and much more terrifying.

knowing that, in just a month, a third person is gonna be a part of your little family. someone you’re gonna be completely and solely responsible for, making sure their needs are met and you raise them to be a good human being.

and it’s really hitting you tonight, after some mild cramping landed you in the doctor’s office where you were assured it was just your body’s response in preparing for labor.

but that was enough to completely scare you. leave you silent on the car ride home with your sweaty palm in yeosang’s and your mind racing a mile a minute.

“you’re quiet,” yeosang hums softly, the air between you thick as his thumb caresses your hand.

he felt a similar surge of panic rush through him when you told him about the mild discomfort in your stomach, all but jumping up and out the door to get you to the doctor immediately.

you make a noise of approval in the back of your throat, the only response other than the way you tighten in his hand in yours.

because right now, with all of these racing thoughts, you just wanna stop.

stop thinking about everything that could go wrong in the next month, the pain of labor and dealing with a newborn.

you wanna stop thinking about you and yeosang not handling the transition well, lashing out at each other after sleepless nights full of the baby’s crying as you try trying to adjust to this new life.

your walk up to the apartment is silent as well, going right into your room and plopping face down on the cold sheets.

the bed dips a few moments later and you make a tired groan when yeosang drags you up toward the pillows, placing you in front of him before leaning you back.

your back rests on his front for a few calming moments, his hands rubbing slowly over your stomach in a way he’s gotten used to over these past few days.

the moment you told him you had cramps, you weren’t surprised when he started doing that.

there hasn’t been a moment throughout this pregnancy when he wasn’t comforting you or assuring you in some way. holding your hand or stroking your hair and just making sure at all times, you were feeling happy and healthy.

but now it’s like you’re so beyond that point, tired and frustrated and just feeling so anxious about what’s to come.

“are you scared for her to come?”

yeosang’s hands stop on your stomach when he hears you utter those words, shifting your body until you’re sitting in front of him.

your eyes are wide and glossy and he can’t help but smile at how pretty you look, taking your face in his hands gently.

“of course i am,” he says honestly, not wanting to sugar coat anything or lie to you. “but i’m also excited to meet her. we’re as prepared as we can be, right? so we’ll just have to figure it out one day at a time.”

“i know,” you sigh out, that piece of advice everyone in your life is telling you. to take the early challenges of motherhood one day at a time; but you think it’s easier said than done, especially with a month left to just sit here and dwell on things.

“but i don’t know.... are we really ready? we’re not even married, yeosang. what if everyone at the hospital is like.... yikes.”

a snort leaves his mouth that he couldn’t hold back, not liking to laugh at the comments and exaggerations you make these days but sometimes not being able to help it.

“again, baby, if you wanna get married right now, i’ll go out and get a ring. but otherwise, no one is gonna say shit.”

“that’s not why i said it,” you whine, pushing him playfully and cracking a smile at his deep chuckle. “i’m just... scared about a lot of things again, yeosang. it was nice in, like, the middle of this. and it didn’t seem too bad. but now it’s all feeling very real again and i....i don’t know if i’ll be able to do it.”

“of course you’ll be able to do it,” yeosang mumbles softly, his fingers tracing shapes on your shoulder. “you made it this far, baby, and you’ve been doing so good. i already told mi that you’re gonna be better at this than me.”

a smile lights up your face as you hear him say your daughter’s name aloud, the long winded decision in picking your child’s name finally coming to an end last week.

you both had gone back and forth about what kind of names you wanted, discussing meanings and how it sounded and voting out what you absolutely didn’t want.

jang-mi was the name yeosang suggested that you immediately loved, could see it fitting right next to yours on a christmas card or shouting it through the apartment when she’s a crazy toddler.

“that’s funny because i told her the same thing,” you chuckle out quietly, letting out a sigh as you roll over and curl into him.

you were soaking in the bath one morning, all but demanding yeosang to sleep in one weekend when you felt her kicking inside you.

the first time you felt it all a few months ago, you remember nearly yelping. alarming yeosang to the severest degree and watching him rush into the living room to see you staring at him shock.

but he was just as fascinated and happy as you, feeling kicks from inside your stomach as prove that there really was a baby growing in there.

you’d gotten used to it though, every time you felt it talking to her quietly or giggling at the sensation.

telling her how excited you are to meet her despite your nerves, sharing stories or readings books and just informing her of the true chaos she’s gonna encounter with her father and uncles.

“i already know mingi’s gonna try to be strict with you but i think you’ll have him wrapped around your finger the tightest,” you predicted, above all else excited to see him interact with a baby.

“and your daddy’s gonna act like he doesn’t know what he’s doing or is bad at it. but i think he’ll be a lot better at this than me, jang-mi. he acts tough and strong and mean but he’s... the best man ever. and i’m happy he’s your dad.”

yeosang doesn’t have the heart to tell you he heard you in the bath that day, remembering how quickly tears were in his eyes and he was, for a brief moment, the happiest he’d ever felt in his life.

“then maybe we’ll both do a good job,” he hums quietly, already knowing full well that, whatever happens, she’s gonna have you both wrapped around her finger.

nine months:

your water broke two weeks early and nothing could have prepared you for the terror of that moment.

how one second, you were walking in the coffee shop with mingi and yunho and the next, wetness poured down your legs and onto the floor below you. the inside of your pink maternity dress was sticking uncomfortably, a confused expression overtaking your face.

“uhhh, guys...”

“i think i’m gonna get a scone,” yunho says, looking up at the menu despite going here for years.

“no, get the cookies again.”

“you never eat them, babe, why would we-”

“guys...”

“doesn’t he never eat the cookies, y/n?” yunho asks, his head turning to side-eye you before he notices your look of discomfort. “what’s wrong?”

and it’s at that that mingi turns his head, looking over your face before catching the wetness on your dress and at your feet. he looks from the floor to you several times, like he’s trying to put two and two together before his mouth hangs open almost comically.

but because he’s mingi, you should’ve known the words leaving his mouth were gonna be even more funny, even if you didn’t think it at the time.

“did you just piss?”

it’s yunho’s delayed realization that kicks everything into gear, his hand bouncing off mingi’s head before he exclaims that your water just broke.

excitement and shock and even a little bit of chaos erupts throughout the coffee shop in the minutes after, strangers asking if they could help and the barista’s you’ve come to know clapping their hands and looking on excitedly.

“call yeosang,” yunho says, flagging down a taxi just as the fear and anticipation start to build in you.

he answers on the 2nd ring when he sees mingi’s name pop up, knowing full well that the boy was spending the day with you; because he was actually guilty in demanding, with the due date just around the corner, that someone was with you at all times.

“hello?”

“yeosang...”

he doesn’t know how but the second he hears your voice, he can just tell something’s not right.

“what happened? is everything okay?”

you lick over your lips anxiously, knowing for the past nine months you guys have been both terrified and waiting for this day. just a few (or many) hours away from meeting your daughter.

“she’s coming.”

the line goes silent for a few moments, just the sound of his breathing before he starts to shuffle and rush toward his boss’s office.

you’re so lost in his words, assuring you that everything will be fine and that he’ll see you soon, you miss yunho and mingi share big smiles with one another, the former excitedly mouthing “it’s a girl,” just as the taxi pulls up to bring you to the hospital.

part 5

tag list: @mirror-juliet @toffee-hwa @valhoez @miatsubaki23 @mydaintydaisy @treasurehwa @markleeyeosang

#my laptop broke so i unfourt cant edit this #dont come 4 me #yeosang #yeosang fluff #yeosang angst #yeosang smut #ateez #ateez fluff #ateez smut #ateez angst #yeosang scenarios #yeosang imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines

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