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#despite chris not being their dad
astraystayyh · 8 months
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pieces of you
single dad!chan. x fem!reader
genre : neighbors!au. fluff. angst. slow burn. mutual pining. 8.7k wc
summary : In which you and chan are each other's missing pieces. Alternatively, Chris and his daughter come knocking at your apartment asking for flour, and he's no longer embarrassed when you open the door.
a.n. : my chris best girl dad agenda is going strong!!!!!! my second fic for the winter falls collab with my writer xi hehe i hope you will all enjoy reading!! feedback is highly appreciated 🤍 the song chris will write for sowon is light by sleeping at last, highly recommend listening to it!!
winter falls masterlist.
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i. 
“I can’t believe you’re making me do this.”
“Shh, daddy smile.”
Soft murmurs linger just beyond your door, elusive words that could easily be dismissed as figments of your imagination. However, any doubt in your mind dissipates with three resounding knocks, jolting you from your momentary contemplation. 
A reluctant groan escapes you as you glance down at your attire—a loosely hanging oversized hoodie, a testament to the numerous times it has been tugged down, and a pair of pajama pants whose matching top has mysteriously vanished. Clearly, you don't feel presentable enough to welcome anyone at this late hour. So, you remain motionless, futilely lowering the TV volume in hopes that whoever's behind the door will just continue with their night. But the knocks persist against your wish, so, with a resigned sigh, you rise from your seat, your blanket cascading to the ground in a soft descent.
“What–” the words dissolve in your mouth like a sweet nectar as you open the door, your eyes beholding no one in your periphery. A slight tug at your pants draws your attention downward, only to find the most adorable child your eyes have ever laid on. She's clad in Rapunzel-themed pajamas, wolf slippers bumping into your plain ones, and, to your surprise, a whisk cradled in her small hand. 
“Hey there,” your voice softens as you crouch to meet her warm gaze. You find an innocent happiness gleaming in her eyes, a radiant spark shining even beneath the corridor's muted light. Two dimples adorn her cheeks as she smiles at you. 
“Hi, my dad wants to tell you something,” she says, pointing with her whisk to the very end of the hallway. You crane your neck, trying to catch a glimpse of the elusive figure. 
“Your dad?”
“Mm. He’s a bit shy, that’s why he’s hiding,” she confides in a whisper. But, despite her earnest attempt, her words still resound loudly in the vacant space, causing giggles to spill out of your mouth. 
“And you aren’t shy?” you inquire, tilting your head. 
“Nu-uh,” she shakes her head with conviction as someone emerges behind her. She instinctively wraps an arm around their leg, nestling her cheek against their thigh. 
She isn't shy because she feels protected.
You rise from your place, eyes locking with a familiar shade of brown. Only these hold a mesmerizing quality to them making your very breath catch in your throat. Kindness pours from his gaze as it travels down your face, a sentiment that further materializes as delicate smile lines stitch around the corner of his eyes.  
He’s beautiful. 
Your eyes trail down to two pairs of dimples, mirroring the ones of his daughter perfectly. She is his living portrait, sharing his eyes, lips, and smile. Yet, his cheeks blush in a hue she does not possess, while his left hand fiddles with his earlobe, in an unspoken, timid gesture. For some odd reason, it pierces straight through your heart.
“Sorry for bothering you,” a smooth Australian accent rolls off his tongue, similar to rich butter spread on warm bread- it infuses your being with tingles pulsating from the base of your toes. You suddenly no longer miss your blanket.
“I'm your next-door neighbor. We were just making cookies and we realized we actually  don’t have flour,” he explains, a bashful smile imprinted onto his lips. 
“You didn’t check beforehand?” you ask, laughter tinting your voice. 
“I forgot,” he admits, but his tone sounds almost sad as if beating himself over it. A fleeting shadow veils his face briefly, dissipating like a passing cloud grazing the sun.
“Can we borrow some from you? I told Sowon that we could go to the store but she said it’s too cold out,” he asks, his hand resting on his daughter’s shoulder soothingly. 
“It is too cold out,” you agree with a frown, looking down at Sowon to which she smiles brightly, happy to have your support. 
“And of course, I'll bring you flour. Don’t worry about it. Do you want to come in meanwhile?”
“It's okay, we'll wait here. Don’t want to intrude.” 
“Thank you!” Sowon beams, her missing tooth in full display. 
“Yeah, thank you so much…” he trails out, tilting his head as if to silently inquire about your name.
“Yn. And you?”
“Chris.”
“Nice to meet you, Chris,” you smile, shaking his extended hand. His fingers wrap around your palm, and it feels as if you’re grasping thunder, crackling with an electricity that your eyes can’t behold, yet your soul does, suddenly illuminated from within. 
Your smile grows as you detach yourself from his hold, before bending forward to bop Sowon’s nose. “And nice to meet you too Rapunzel.” 
Your words make her hide behind her father’s leg, peeking out slightly to look at you. 
“See I'm not the only one who gets shy,” Chan chuckles, and Sowon whines in complaint, further burying her face in her dad’s grey sweatpants. 
Adorable, so much it stirs a long-forgotten melancholy within your being. 
“She gets a pass, she's still young, right Sowon?”
“Are you calling me old then?” Chan fakes outrage, bringing one hand to his chest while the other cradles Sowon’s back. 
“Old enough to forget about flour,” you wink and he laughs, looking down at your slippers. 
“Touché.” 
A few minutes go by before you come back, a recipient full of flour in your hands. The sight before you makes you pause in your tracks– Chris, leaning against the wall, Sowon propped on his hip, her arms loosely hanging around his neck, her eyes closed. 
“Did she…” you whisper and he turns to you. 
“Yeah, fell asleep,” he smiles fondly, tucking a few strands of her hair behind the curve of her ear. “She’ll be disappointed when she wakes up to no cookies. She wanted us to have a baking holiday tradition.”
“You don’t know how to make them?” 
“No, I was counting on a six-year-old to assist me,” he chuckles quietly, prompting a snort from you. 
“Well, keep the flour, in case you need it again.” 
“Thank you, Yn,” he grins, the smile taking over his entire face, grabbing the recipient from you. 
“You’re welcome Chris,” you say, as you both linger around the door still, not making any attempt to move. 
Your eyes refuse to peel away from his, as if there were a magnetic force drawing you to him, telling you that your gaze belonged to rest on him.
“Uhm,” he clears his throat, leaning away from the wall. “I'll get going.”
“Yeah, sleep well, Chris.”
“Thank you,” he smiles before turning around. 
An idea brews in your head, a germ sprouted by the clear adoration in which Sowon gazed at her dad, and the disappointment in his face as he said he would no longer be making cookies. Had you wished to dig a little deeper, you would’ve also found a long-buried feeling of a little girl who would have loved holiday traditions as well. You close the door before heading straight to your kitchen. 
One hour later 
You knock softly on Chris’ door, fidgeting from one foot to another. You almost retract back to your apartment after your fourth knock, when the door finally opens, Chris coming into your line of sight. 
“Hi,” you greet, hands behind your back. 
“Hey,” he smiles, leaning his arm on the doorway, right above your head. He tilts his head to the side, silently wondering what you want. The words dissolve in your mouth at the way his eyes fixate on you as if trying to peer behind your irises onto your mind. 
“Cookies,” you bring the plate before him, as his eyes grow wide, an incredulous smile drawn on his lips. 
“You made them?” 
“Yeah, didn't want Sowon to be disappointed,” you shrug and his eyes grow wild, racking all over your face in disbelief. 
“You didn't have to do this,” he finally says, tone softening, syllables ringing like a sweet sonnet in your ears. 
“I know. I wanted to. and I'm a baker so making cookies comes easily to me, don't worry about it,” you shrug sheepishly, biting your lower lip slightly. You felt scrutinized by him in ways you haven't felt before. 
“Thank you, Yn, I don’t even know what to say,” he says, his smile resembling a beam of light. A surge of pride courses through you at managing to bring it forth. 
“No need to say anything. I hope I didn't wake you up,” you smile sheepishly and he shakes his head. 
“No, I- I was working in my studio and Sowon is asleep. It's just us two. Always has been,” he adds, tone slightly changing, air growing heavier between you both. It's just them two. 
“Studio?” you inquire, hoping to dispel the tension latching around you both. 
“I'm a music producer,” he clarifies. “I made a studio here so I could stay the night with Sowon.” 
“I'm sure she appreciates that,” you say as you hand the plate to him. His fingertips brush against your own, and a slight electricity courses through you at the touch, the hallway suddenly brighter from the fireworks ricocheting off of you both.
“I…. I'll get going.”
“Yeah, yeah, don't want to take more of your time.”
“I'll see you around.” 
“Yeah, I'll see you,” he says, words not ringing carelessly into the air, sounding more like a promise. He'll see you, he'll make sure of it. 
ii. 
“Can you wait!” a voice echoes near the building entrance, and you prevent the elevator doors from closing as hurried steps near you. 
You recognize the voice easily by the light tingles running down your spine, the Australian accent shooting straight through your heart. Its owner materializes, Chris— leather jacket hugging his muscles snuggly, black t-shirt tucked into a pair of blue jeans, cap nestled on his head, rebellious strands of ebony hair peeking behind it.
You find the breath knocked out of you once again at his sight. He's beautiful, even more so in broad daylight, where every feature of his comes to life, beckoning, demanding your sole attention. 
“Hey, Yn,” he smiles in delight, uttering your name in a familiarity that infuses your being with warmth. Even though you've only talked once, two days ago. 
“Hey, Chris,” you greet back, pressing the fourth elevator button again. you face the mirror to find Chris already looking at you, his eyes instantly locking with yours. 
“The cookies were good,” he smiles softly and you grin. “I'm glad you think so.” 
“Where is your bakery? I need to taste more of your baking.” 
The butterflies in your stomach tone down at his words, your attraction momentarily forgotten as gratitude coats your heart instead.
“I can text you the address?” you propose. 
“Yeah, here,” he takes out his phone, a picture of him and Sowon set as his lock screen— their cheeks are pressed tightly to one another, messily done eyeliner on both their eyes. you giggle to yourself as you grab the device.
“Cute picture,” you muse and he brings an arm to his neck, scratching the side of it timidly. 
“She insists on trying her makeup on me.” 
“She makes you look better,” you giggle and he rolls his eyes, tongue poking against his cheek. 
“She wants to become a stylist,” he explains, as the elevator doors open. He lets you out first, arm stretched forward.
“I find her passion really cute so I buy her anything she asks for,” he shrugs and you chuckle, pointing to the bag of pink ribbons he is carrying. 
“Let me guess, she wants to use these on you?”
“Yeah. She also said that I quote ‘need to learn new hairstyles because her friends always come to class with intricate braids, and she can't go to class with a simple one.’” He repeats, tone growing slightly high-pitched as he mimics his daughter's words. Yet, the fond smile on his face is louder, screaming of his love for her. 
“She has you wrapped around your finger,” you muse, leaning against your door. The keys in your bag are long forgotten. 
“She can be very scary for such a little girl.” 
“What does she threaten you with?” you ask, feigning horror. 
“No goodnight kisses,” he whispers, as if scared she'd hear him beyond the wooden door. 
“Torture,” you gasp, placing your hand on his shoulder reassuringly. Yet, the smiles slip out of your face instantly. Was it normal for clothes to dissolve under your touch, layers of cotton and leather doing nothing to stop the warmth of his skin from seeping through you? Was it normal to be so affected by such an innocent touch? 
“Uhm,” you clear your throat, “I can help you. with her hair, I mean.” 
“You don't have to. I already took too much from your time with the cookies,” he seems truly apologetic, his tone sobering as if despising others doing things for him. You see yourself in him, in the way he wants to carry the world’s burden on his shoulders. It is a reflection you wish to mend. 
“I don't mind, I remember feeling jealous of the other girls in my school so I made myself learn all the braids.” 
And then you see his gratefulness, the twinkle in his eyes that you can only grasp for a millisecond before they disappear into moon crescents. Happiness looks grand on him, overtaking his entire face, brightening his features with a glow too ethereal to be of mankind, as if they were carved to translate joy. You find yourself willing to give up more of your time to see it.
“Thank you,” he breathes out and you nod, a grin taking over your face as well. 
“You’re welcome. Let me just change my clothes.” 
☃︎⋆꙳•❅
“And then, you pull the right strand all over to the middle one. Then you repeat, this way the ribbon is braided into the hair,” you explain to a very concentrated Chris, his eyebrows furrowed as he follows your movements. 
“It looks easy when you do it,” he frowns and you giggle, handing the mirror to Sowon so she'd be able to look at her hair. 
“Do you like it,” you ask, a tad apprehensive and she beams, dimples that almost swallow her chubby cheeks surging forth. 
“Pretty!” she exclaims and you giggle, bopping her nose. “You are pretty.”
“And you are pretty too. right, daddy?”
You turn back to find Chris watching you, a smile so fond on his face that it renders your insides putty, coats your cheek in the palest shade of pink.
“Very much so,” he says, tone quieter, his eyes never leaving yours. 
Sowon suddenly climbs on her dad’s lap, star and moon stickers in hand. She places them all over his face, and he sits there diligently, arms wrapped around her midriff so she won't slip away. Every carefully placed sticker is punctuated by a soft gasp from him and a small giggle from her. You could feel the love radiating from both of them, a feeling so strong it made your heart twist in your chest. 
Were there red neon exits you weren’t aware of in your being? Ones through which love trickled away all these years ago? Were the spaces between your fingers carved to hold someone’s hand, or to make everything you've ever wanted slip from your grasp?
“What do you think?” Sowon startles you and you force a smile on your face, willing the heaviness in your heart to dissipate. There were questions you'd never find the answers to, you had to make peace with that.
“I love it!” you grin and Sowon nods, satisfied. You look down at your lap as Chris fixates his eyes on you, a worried crease growing between his eyebrows. 
“Fun is over, you need to do your homework, Miss Bang,” he scolds and you snort, as Sowon rolls her eyes slightly. 
“Did you just roll your eyes at me?” he fakes offense and you giggle as Sowon huffs slightly. “Dad, I told you I have no homework. I already did it with uncle Felix.” 
“Oh, right,” he deflates slightly before brightening up once again, “then, you should put away all these hairbrushes and ribbons, okay?”
“Will you watch a movie later with me?”
“Of course, baby.”
“Okay then,” she grins, quickly standing up to start putting away her things. you smile, getting up your turn to leave. Chris understands and stands with you on cue. 
“You can stay and watch the movie with us.”
“It's okay, I have some things to work on,” you turn around, but then you feel his fingers wrapping around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. 
“Are you okay?” he asks, hand still burning straight through your skin, igniting a million nerve ends with a simple touch. You avoid his eyes, looking down at the ground. It seems to be response enough for him. 
“We’re conditioned to say yes even when we aren’t, right?” he speaks softly, his words travel through your veins in a rapid course against the current of your blood— which one will reach your heart first and flood it? 
Your facade cracks. His voice wins. 
“So, you don't have to reply now,” his thumb swipes once across your pulse. “But I'll be here if you ever wish to tell the truth.” 
iii.
You’ve grown exceptionally fond of Chris in the span of mere months, more than you would like to admit to yourself. It was an easy task, as natural as the current of a waterfall. Yet, you did not plan for it, for a new emotion to settle on top of your lungs, to make you more aware of your heart and how it beats, slightly faster, around Chris. But it happened serendipitously, against all odds, when he knocked on your door at 10 p.m. asking for salt.
“Should I start buying groceries for you?” you joked, and it took Chris a millisecond longer to respond, his gaze wandering across your face, as if discovering the world’s eighth wonder, hidden in plain sight all these years. 
“For my defense, I have a daughter that likes experimenting with cooking,” he smiled, and you raised an eyebrow at him. 
“Just with salt?”
“She added four teaspoons of it in an omelet. Then forced me to eat it because I always tell her food shouldn't go to waste,” he shudders at the memory and you chuckle loudly. 
Chris knocks on the doors of your heart, once.
It happened when you spotted a cockroach the size of your palm on your bedroom wall. You would’ve killed it, you were going to, except it started flying towards you and you let out a loud shriek you didn’t know your vocal chords were capable of conjuring. So, you called Chris. 
“Can you please come over,” you murmured, crouching near the entrance door, a pair of slippers in your hand.
“Why are you whispering? are you okay?” he sounded worried, and you heard the turning of a lock as he opened the door to his apartment. He didn’t ask questions, instantly coming to your aid. A sudden urge to weep filled your being at his gesture. 
“There is a cockroach. a flying one,” you precised, horror dripping from your tongue and his laugh flooded your ear, tiny squeaks that made your hold on the slipper grow limp. 
“I'm from Australia,” he knocked on your door, and you stood up promptly. “I've seen worse,” he said once you finally opened it, his eyes softening incredibly when they met yours. 
He did kill the cockroach, by spraying your insect repellent enough times to asphyxiate you too. “I don't think I can sleep in there tonight,” you sighed, gulping down ice cold water, “why does it feel like we went through war?” 
“We? You were behind my back all the time.”
 “I was cheering you on, from afar. Spiritually.”
 “I can’t believe a cockroach scares you this much.”
 “You literally screamed when it flied towards you too.”
 “I didn't scream! I made a very manly, non-terrified sound.”
 “Mm, sure,” you giggled, voice softening at the blushing of the tip of his ears. Chris didn't have to force the door down to your heart, you willingly opened it for him. 
And after that, it was a race to find the silliest excuses to see one another. Chris suddenly taking up an inkling for baking, you manifesting a newfound interest in music, Sowon needing her makeup done for a dance, Chris visiting you in your bakery, Sowon craving your cookies and you teaching her the recipe, Chris knocking on your door and you knocking on his. The same giddy smiles on your faces as you usher each other in. And it always, always ending with a movie night. 
“Let's watch Tangled,” Sowon exclaims, clapping her hands excitedly. 
“Baby, we watched this movie for the past…” he looks at you for support. “Three,” you whisper, a bashful smile on your face. “Yeah, for the past three movie nights,” he whines slightly.
“But I love it,” she says, her pout morphing into a huge grin. “Again! Again! Again!”
“Fine,” he concedes, mouthing “save me,” from afar to you. You giggle softly while Sowon cozies up to your side, your arm naturally draping across her body while her legs stretch atop Chris’ lap, naturally, as if having you both by her side was the way things have always been. The only reality she’s ever known.
It is a fleeting fifty minutes as the three of you watch the movie, Sowon reciting excitedly the lines that she seems to remember. But then the quiet is replaced by her soft snores, her body growing light against you.
“She fell asleep,” you whisper, tapping Chris’ shoulder to catch his attention. He tilts his head to the side, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as his eyes land on his daughter. 
“I'm sorry you have to watch the same movie every time,” he says apologetically and you shake your head. 
“I don't mind. Tangled is a good movie.” 
“Are you here just because of the movie?” he smiles, dimples peeking through. The juxtaposition between the weight of his words and the soft expression on his face makes a buzzing warmth spread through you. He’s cold and hot, in and out, yours but not. 
“What do you want me to be here for?” you throw back, squeezing his shoulder slightly. 
“The company.”
“I do find Sowon entertaining.”
“Just her?” he pouts and you giggle, tipping your head back. 
“And you too, I suppose, by extension.”
“By extension, mm,” he hums, as he gathers Sowon in his arms, freeing her from your hold. “Then I guess I shouldn't come visit you in your bakery anymore. Since you only enjoy my presence by extension.”
“So sassy,” you shout-whisper as you both walk to Sowon's bedroom, “I like your company too, idiot.” 
“Yeah?” he turns back to look at you, tone a tad bit too hopeful. He doesn’t care that he sounds eager for your approval, not when he feels as if he can only truly breathe when you're near. 
“Yeah, Chris, I really do,” you speak earnestly, and Chris bites his lower lip slightly, suddenly overwhelmed by the gentleness of your tone. Your eyes follow his action instantly. 
He lowers Sowon gently onto the bed and she stirs awake, blinking repeatedly at the both of you. “Yn,” she calls out quietly once her eyes land on yours and you kneel before her bed. Chris watches from the door entrance as Sowon cups her hand near your ear, before whispering something to you. He notices your body stiffening, your gaze fleeting to him before you relax, pressing a kiss to her cheek. 
He wishes he could freeze time, stitch this moment into his eyelids until it is the only thing he sees when he goes to sleep. Loneliness is too big of an enemy for one person to fight off, but it seems more harmless when you are near. 
Chris sees you right here, every night, not forcing your place into his family, but falling seamlessly into place. Perhaps you were the missing piece that’ll soothe the burn in his heart. Perhaps he’d let you in, even as fear paralyzes his being at the mere thought of asking you to stay. 
One week later. 
You've grown used to the knocks on your door at ungodly hours of the night, Chris seeking your company each time you both fail to fall asleep. Except this time, there is a chilling premonition in your heart as you walk to your home’s entrance, anxiety coiling like a steel ball in your throat. 
“What’s wrong?” you ask upon opening the door, locking eyes with Chris's bloodshot gaze.
“Sowon,” he heaves, tone laden with fear, so different from how he usually pronounces her name. The syllables pierce through your heart like an arrowhead dipped in alarm. 
“Sowon?” you question, peering behind him to his slightly ajar apartment door.
“Yes, she has a high fever, and it won’t come down. I tried everything, and I-I don’t know what to do anymore. She’s shaking, but I can’t—”He trembles, his quivers akin to delicate chinaware on the precipice of an earthquake, poised to shatter at your feet. You'd plunge to the ground first, anything to soften his impending collapse.  
“It’s okay,” you soothe, your voice soft as you grasp his wrist. “Let’s go see her, okay?”
“It's her first time being this sick,” he whispers, clearly distraught, one hand running through his freshly dyed blonde hair. 
“It's okay. Don’t panic, it happens. Did you give her medicine?”
“Yes, a few minutes ago,” he replies as you guide him towards her room.
“Good, it'll start working soon,” you reassure, opening the door and crouching before Sowon.
“Hey, Rapunzel,” you coo softly, and Sowon attempts to muster a smile. Her cheeks flush, eyes dim like withered petals.
“How are you feeling?” you ask, pressing your hand to her feverish forehead. You cast a wary glance at Chan, who's anxiously biting his thumb.
“Cold,” she whispers, and you nod, peeling off her blanket. “I know you are, but you have a high fever. We need to let it cool down, okay?”
“I-I’m shaking,” Sowon sighs, lower lip protruding and trembling, both from the iciness clawing at her frail being, and the tears welling in her waterline, like a cup on the brink of overflowing. 
“Shh, don't cry. It will pass, it's okay,” you murmur soothingly, cradling her face on your lap, gently moving damp strands of her hair behind her ear.
“Chris, can you bring me a towel and a bowl with cold water?” you ask softly, and the man startles, painfully peeling his eyes away from his daughter, as if doing so would consign her to a dark fate.
“Sure. Sure,” he repeats, scurrying out of the room.
Sowon buries her cheek in your thigh, small hands clinging tightly to yours. You tie her hair up into a loose bun as Chan hurriedly comes back, a bassinet in his hand.
“Thank you,” you smile, as he kneels beside the bed, his hand resting on Sowon’s knee gently.
“Hey sweetheart,” he coos softly, and Sowon blinks at him, light spilling over her face. 
“Hey daddy,” she replies as you dip the towel into the water, before squeezing the fabric to remove any liquid excess. 
“You're being so strong. I love you so much my pretty girl,” he says, bringing her small hand to rest upon his cheek, bestowing a gentle kiss on her palm. 
The moment feels so intimate, so tender, that you almost feel like an intruder. You imagine this is what thorns on roses must feel like, so out of place amid delicate petals and stems. 
“I love you too,” she grins, and you remain silent, diligently wiping her face and neck with the dampened towel. You soon lose track of the number of times you've repeated this motion, but Sowon’s eyes are now closed and her body is no longer trembling. 
You rest your palm upon her forehead, a sigh of relief escaping your body as you realize that her fever has gone down noticeably- the medicine finally taking effect.
“It's better now,” you smile reassuringly and Chris’s eyes widen, irises shaking as he looks back to his daughter. 
“Will she be okay?” 
“She will be. She just needs to sleep a bit.” 
“Okay, thank you.” 
“Can we prepare her something to eat meanwhile?” 
“Mm,” he absentmindedly nods, his fingers trailing down Sowon’s features delicately, resting upon her round cheeks. 
"She looks just like you," you softly smile.
"I know," he admits, not with pride but in surrender, as if his reflection was nothing but a cursed fate. His voice tastes like ocean water, salty, acid, suffocating.
“Chris…” you trail off and he shakes his head, abruptly standing up. 
“Let's make her chicken noodle soup. She loves it,” he says and you nod. A ticking bomb resides in his veins, devoid of a countdown, leaving you unsure of when he'll finally explode. 
You get your answer soon after—it takes two minutes and thirty-three seconds for the first tear to roll down Chris’s cheek. You spot it as you retrieve carrots from the fridge, averting your gaze as Chan angrily wipes it away.
A few seconds later, five tears follow the same agonizing trail, and now the knife is shaking in Chris’s hands. He squeezes his eyes shut as if frustrated by his pain, by the emotions escaping through the cracks in his heart.
You stay silent, bringing the water to a simmer.
The clank of metal against the counter snaps your attention, and you see Chris with his head lowered down, his hands tightly clutching the counter.
Your tongue moves before you can order it to speak. 
"Chris," you call out, your hand finding its place on his back. An ugly sob escapes his lips, a raw cry unearthed from the depths of the soil where he buried his feelings, never allowing himself the grace of grieving, then moving on. 
“I'm a horrible father,” he utters so brokenly as if this idea were cemented into his head, woven into every thought of himself—an adjective that lingers like a phantom each time Sowon calls him dad.
“You're not, what are you saying?” you gently turn him around so he'd face you. But his eyes remain downcast, as if ashamed to meet your gaze. 
“I didn't know what to do. I panicked. I-I wasn't enough to help her.”
“It's okay, you can't know everything, you are trying your best-”
“No, no, no, it's not just about this!” he snaps,  despair clinging to his eyes as he finally looks at you. “It’s hard. It’s so hard to be here alone, and I- I try but it's not enough, I can't do everything and I'm not a good enough parent for her, there will a-always be something missing.” 
“You're wrong,” you say but he shakes his head in disagreement. “Chris, you're wrong,” you cradle his face, taking you both by surprise. Your thumb swipes gently underneath the skin of his eyes, wiping his cascading tears. 
“You love Sowon. And she can feel it, she can see it, she can hear it. Everyone can. A parent can't be perfect, but they should love. And you love her.” 
“What if I can't even love her enough for a father? How will I ever fill the role of two parents?” he's leaning onto your palm, hanging onto your every word. You'd sit for hours and untangle every thread of his mind if you have to, until you single out the infested one and burn it away. 
“She loves you Chris. She looks at you as if you hang every star in the sky. As if you're responsible for every good thing that happens in our world. She loves you and you love her.”
You gaze up at the ceiling, tears welling in your eyes. Chan notices the subtle tremble in your hand against his cheek.
“If I had someone who loved me as much as you love Sowon when I was a child, I would've turned out so differently,” you smile bitterly, swallowing down the lump in your throat. 
“You won't be a perfect dad. You can't be. But she won't grow up with a throbbing heart, pulsating because of a void that cannot be filled. Her veins won't be poisoned by hate and abandonment. Because she knows what it's like to be loved,” you pause, as your voice breaks, traitorous tears rolling down your cheeks. “To be cared for.” 
Your eyes hold his in a silent conversation, secretly telling him what your tongue cannot speak of— Sowon, an untarnished blossom, won't unfurl into a solitary flower the way you did.
“I'm sorry,” he whispers after a while, eyes softening in understanding. His knuckles brush gently against your cheek. 
“Why are you apologizing?” 
“So you'd find a reason within you to forgive,” he says, as he leans forward to press a tender kiss on your forehead. And somehow it feels more intimate than any way you've been touched before. 
Five days later.
chris [11:32 p.m.]: you up?
yn [11:32 p.m.]: i just got bad flashbacks to my college years
chris [11:33 p.m.]: ajaksjsbsbbs
chris [11:33 p.m.]: i didn’t mean it like that ㅠㅠ 
chris [11:33 p.m.]: wanna come over? i'm in the studio but im not feeling inspired 
yn [11:34 p.m.]: and how will i help? 
chris [11:34 p.m.]: i find your presence inspiring 
You don’t reply, instead putting on your slippers and walking over to his apartment. He opens the door before you even have the chance to knock. 
“What are you working on?” you ask once you’re settled atop his chair, spinning around slightly. He looks down at the pillow on his lap, lightly plucking its pink fur. “A song for Sowon,” he admits softly and your eyes grow a little wide. 
“That is so sweet,” you pout, inching closer to him. “How is it going?”
“I've finished the melody and now I'm working on the lyrics. There is just.. so much i want to tell her, i'm unsure if ill be able to express it well.” 
“Can I read what you wrote?” 
“Yeah. Yeah, sure,” he searches through his papers. “Here.”
May these words be the first to find your ears
The world is brighter than the sun now that you're here
I'll give you everything I have
I'll teach you everything I know
I promise I'll do better
I will soften every edge
I'll hold the world to its best
And I'll do better
Tears spring to your eyes unexpectedly, you try to stop their flow but they fall upon the paper, splattering like a broken mosaic, mimicking the brokenness of your own heart. 
“I'm sorry,” you spin around, your back to him as you attempt to dry your tears, and yet they show no desire to stop. Chris is in your heart and he’s kicking every other emotion out, forcing you to make amends with your sadness, the one you buried years, years ago. 
Chris gently grabs the back of the chair, pulling you back to him before spinning your chair once again until you are facing him. You bury your face in your hands and his rests reassuringly on your knee, squeezing it slightly. “Is it so bad it made you sob?” 
“Shut up, you know this isn’t the case.” 
His hand delicately traces up your arm, gently lifting your fingers from your face. He kneels before you, his thumb tenderly wiping away the traces of tears on your cheeks.
“Talk to me?” 
“It's so beautiful, so warm, so loving. Everything a parent should think of their child,” a traitorous hiccup escapes your lips. “Everything my parents never felt for me.” 
Chris’ mouth morphs into a pout, eyebrows scrunching tightly. You shake your head, smoothing down the worried crease between his eyes. 
“I don't feel sad over things I can't control and I love myself enough now to compensate for what I didn't have, but sometimes-'' your voice breaks, Chan’s hold on your hands tightens. “It stings to remember what could’ve been.” 
Stings was an understatement, it is rather a pulsating void, throbbing in ache every day, calling out for its missing piece. How can I fill you with what was lost when it chose to walk away? 
“Come here,” he whispers, coaxing you to your feet, his arms enveloping your body as he guides your head to the crook of his neck. His body runs warm, the material of his sweatshirt soft, and he smells nice too, the contours of his muscles tailor-made to complement the ridges of your own. 
“You grew up well, Yn. You did well.”
You clutch his shirt, tightening your grip as you fist the fabric in your palm. He's patting your back, and time slows down to match the rhythm of his touch. 
“Love can be hard, I know. Especially when the people who left are the ones supposed to be staying.” 
He understands, more than anyone you know. He missed out on a different kind of love too, two facets of the same coin. 
“You’re doing well too, Chris. You shouldn’t doubt yourself as much,” your arms trail up to encircle his neck, as his nose tickles your hair. You're the one hugging him now. “Sowon is really smart, she told me that she loves you a lot. She can feel it. She sees everything you do for her.”
“Is that what she told you that movie night?”
“Partly,” you whisper, and Chris leans away slightly, his warm palms still pressed to your waist, holding you close. 
“What else did she tell you?” he asks, curiosity barely hidden in his tone.
You pause for a while, eyes going over the entire room before finally locking on him.
“She thanked me, said that I make you smile more.” You suck in a deep breath, gathering your courage. “Do I?” 
“There are smile lines that don’t show on my face until you're near.” 
“Oh.” That is the only coherent response you can formulate, and Chris giggles, a tiny squeak escaping his lips in a huff. “Cute,” he murmurs, planting a tender kiss on your temple. His lips linger, holding onto the moment a beat longer than necessary, causing your eyes to close in delight. Both of you find yourselves blushing as he leans away, a shared warmth coloring the space between you.
“Sorry, didn't mean to make the mood somber,” you say sheepishly as you sit back down, eyeing Chris’s laptop. “I wanna hear this,” you quickly point to a random track on his screen before he can reply, hoping to make the sadness flee away.
“This one? It’s not really good, let's listen to something else,” his rambling and eagerness to change the track pique your curiosity and you quickly click on the song before he can stop you.
connected.mp3 starts playing. 
Sultry beats inundate your ears, weaving through your veins and whisking you away to the pulsating rhythm of a dance club. You knew Chris produced good music, yet you never fathomed that his voice could be so luxuriously rich, cascading over you like molten wax. You feel a blush rise to your cheeks at the suggestive lyrics, the innuendos peeking behind every word. And then, a sudden jealousy claws at your heart, at the thought of Chris hunched in his studio, fantasizing about connecting with someone who isn’t you. 
You wished to be the only one Chris liked. 
“It’s a- a demo for one of my clients,” he explains through a stutter once the song is done, and you nod meekly, willing your body’s temperature to go down, for the possessivity crinkling in you to fizzle out. 
So, you put on your best taunting smirk.
“I know you want me don’t crumble.. No need to be desperate we’re just getting started,” you sing-song back. “You were feeling so cocky when you wrote this, right?” you grin, inching your chair closer to his. “Feeling yourself, Mr. Bang?”
He chuckles with a hint of annoyance, running his tongue along the expanse of his lower lip. Leaning back into his chair, he casually spreads his legs a bit wider, a gesture that suddenly leaves you feeling dizzy, on him.
“It’s cute how affected you seem by it,” he throws nonchalantly, crossing his arms before his chest.
“I'm not,” you smile, although your erratic heartbeat spoke of a different tale, you just didn't need to voice it to him. “I think you were the one getting all hot and bothered in your studio,” you stand between his legs, hovering over him as he leans back fully in his chair. 
“I was thinking of a pretty girl.”
“Yeah?”
“Mm,” he suddenly grabs your waist, you feel like your entire body is ablaze. “The prettiest.”
"Who is she?" you exhale, teetering on the edge of crashing your lips onto his, like an incoherent love poem, hastily scrambled on a notebook in a fit of anger.
“y–” The door suddenly opens, Sowon’s small frame standing by the door, she’s rubbing her eyes tiredly, her chick plushie dangling from her hand (a gift from her uncle Felix as she explained to you). You quickly scramble away from Chris as he clears his throat loudly.
“Daddy, I can't sleep,” she says faintly, a tiny pout drawn on her lips, and you can see Chris physically melt at her words, at the way she paddles to his chair, and tries her best to climb up his legs. She fails to do so, so he quickly scopes her up his arms until she’s buried in his hold. Her small hands wound up around his neck, and he tenderly pats down her hair, his gaze never wavering from her frame.
“Want me to sing to you, sweetheart?”
“Yes,” she whispers, before making grabby hands at you, your heart softens like clay dough as you scoot closer, enclosing her fingers in your hold. 
“Sleep well, Sowonnie,” you whisper. 
“Can’t you stay with us?” she asks and you feel your blood freeze in your veins, your heart skipping three beats at once.
To stay. What a frightening concept. Even more scary when you realize that you aren’t opposed to it. 
You yearn to stay, for the first time in years, you wish you could. 
You swallow the growing lump in your throat, before smiling reassuringly. “I'll stay till you fall asleep.” 
Conditions, it is the way it has always been for you. staying till you’re no longer useful, staying till you're no longer wanted. Staying, but always with a time limit, always with an expiration date. 
iv. 
You’re avoiding him. 
Chris knows you are, since you no longer come over to his house, claiming that you’re tired, or that you have an important order to bake for the next day. He would have believed you had he not seen you only once in the past three weeks. 
Those were excuses, and each one of them weighed heavily on Chris’ heart, on his home too, his studio particularly, the one that got used to the sound of your laugh. 
He misses you. He never thought he’d miss someone again, craving you presence as if every breath leaving his body depended on you. He wasn’t a stranger to intimacy, fleeting hookups every now and then. Strangers invited him to their bed, knowing what they were signing up for– one night of pleasure, never to be seen again, their faces blurring into an indistinct mass in his mind, like an impressionist painting where no features stand out. Yet, with you, every detail is etched in his memory. 
He could pick you out of a crowded room, recognize the delicate curve of your neck, the fullness of your lips, and the way your nose scrunches when you smile.
He could draw the moles scattered on your body from memory alone, recognize your scent from miles away– your cotton shampoo and the specific laundry detergent you love to use and a hint of vanilla that never truly leaves you. 
He’d remember the curve of your lashes and the cascading of your hair, the airy giggles you leave across like a trail for him to follow everywhere, and your eyes– the way they gazed at him, softening slightly around the edges, shining brightly as if crafted from stardust, the way they softened even more when you looked at Sowon, voice growing slightly high pitched as you listened to his daughter’s rambles.
How did you manage to make his home yours without ever living in it?
“Dad?” Sowon calls out and he snaps his head up, locking eyes with his little girl. She’s sitting on a high stool, munching on her pizza, a pensive look on her face.
“Yes, sweetheart?” he asks, walking over to her side.
“Where is Ynnie?” she asks in a small voice and he freezes, mulling over his response. He settles for the truth.
“I don't know, baby.”
“Does she not want to play with me anymore?” Sowon whispers, and he doesn’t remember his daughter ever being this tentative about voicing a question. 
“No!” he's quick to reassure, cradling Sowon’s face between his much larger hands. “Of course not baby she loves you a lot.”
“Okay…” she nods, a small pout drawn on her lips still. Chris senses his heart physically crack in his chest.
“Do you wanna work in the studio with me?” he says in a joyful tone, and she instantly cheers up, the twinkle in her eyes found again. “Yes!” 
“Finish your food first, okay Wonnie?” 
“Okay!” 
In Chris's life, regrets have been scarce, and certainly not in the form of Sowon, his beacon of hope, as he named her. Having her was beholding a sun wherever he went. However, a fear lingers, a whisper in his heart, suggesting that letting you go might be his one true regret.
So when his daughter falls asleep, he knocks on your door once again. He's suddenly transported into that cold night, months ago, where he asked you for flour. Had he known you were behind it he would’ve knocked much sooner. 
“Hi,” you greet softly once you open the door. He takes a step forward, his wolf slippers matching with Sowon’s bump into your plain ones. You avert your gaze, finding anything but him to fixate on.
“You're avoiding me,” he says matter-of-factly, voice soft, resigning to you.
“I'm not,” you contradict, even as your eyes remain on the ground. He finds himself missing the color of your irises.
“Look at me, hm?” he implores, and you stay rooted in place. A soft sigh escapes him as he cradles your right cheek with his warm hand, his thumb gently sweeping across your cheekbone. “Yn, please, I want to look at you.”
Maybe it is the pleading tone of his voice or the way his thumb tenderly grazes your skin, but something about Chris makes your resolve unravel, threads of fear unknotting before your eyes. So, you finally look at him. An exhale of relief escapes him. 
And then you speak.
“You asked me if I was okay, and I didn't reply, back then,” you say, leaning your head further against his palm as tears well up in your waterline. “Do you still want to know my answer?”
“Of course, always.”
“I'm happy. With you, with sowon. I feel this warmth that I have never known before when I'm with you. It was almost easy to forget I've known you during winter,” you chuckle dryly, “but it is all an illusion, I lie to myself thinking I could stay, I… I can't, I-“
“What if I ask you to stay?” he brings your hand to his heart, where it beats erratically, pulse seeping through your skin.
He’s as scared as you are.
“Chris…”
“What if I told you, Yn, please stay with me,” he breathes out, guiding your hand to gently cup his cheek. “Would you? Would you stay?”
“I'm terrified,” you whisper, as he tilts his head, bestowing a tender kiss on your palm. 
“I know, so am I. But, you make me believe that even my bruised parts are worthy of love.”
He wins, before years of skeletons and piled up doubts, he wins. 
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“I'm staying.”
“You are?”
“I am,” you giggle lightly and he staggers back, the sun pouring into his smile. 
“Um, wow, okay. Thank you for staying,” his voice sounds airy, happiness floating in his tone, and you find it contagious, imprinting into your own.
“Thank you for asking me to stay.”
“You made it less daunting,” he pats your head, smoothing your hair down. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too.”
He giggles in response and you can't help but mirror the sound. “Why are you so nervous?”
“Whaaat? I'm not,” his tone grows high-pitched and you roll your eyes amusedly. 
“What happened to connected Chris?” 
“He is flustered by the girl he wrote about.”
Your cheeks tint red as he places a hand above your head, caging you in place. 
“I think the girl should get paid for being the muse.”
“Oh yeah?” he smirks, “I'll think about it.” His grin softens, as a content expression washes over his face. You know you must look the same. “Let's talk more tomorrow, okay?”
“Okay,” you grin, before placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. “Good night, Chris.”
“Good night, yn.”
You quietly watch as he walks to his apartment door, his hand settling on the door knob. He pauses, for a few seconds where the air around you stills, before swiveling around and walking over to you again. 
you win. 
“I forgot something,” he breathes out, before crashing his lips onto yours, furiously, as if needing to imprint his essence onto you, tainting your soul the way you have tainted him, permanently altering the composition of his being. His lips move on yours as if they've done this before, a dance they have rehearsed countless times, perhaps in all the dreams Chris visited you in. Yet, nothing compares to how it feels to have him touch you, lick your lower lip and drag his hand up your hips, press you against your apartment door, and nibble at your neck. 
Nothing could have prepared you for the passion he shows you, for how delicious it feels to be pressed against him, for the storm that your lips conjure, swirling in your heart in vibrant shades of red. Then, for the softness of his lips as they slow down their course, plump and rosy as they meet your own, tenderly, more gently, one kiss after the other. “My hope,” he whispers, as his lips find yours again, “my missing piece.”
He’s hot and cold, in yet seeking no out, finally yours.
bonus (one year later). 
“So I brought the eggs, milk, sugar,” Chris enumerates as he takes out the groceries, and you turn to look at Sowon to find her already gazing at you, a mischievous look on her face. 
“How much do you wanna bet he forgot flour?” you whisper and she giggles, burying her face in her hands to stifle her laugh.
“And… Wait, where is the flour?” he trails off and you burst out laughing, as you and Sowon high-five each other excitedly. 
“Daddy, you are really bad at groceries.”
“Am I?” he smiles sheepishly, fiddling with his earlobe in a manner that still makes your heart melt, renders your insides butterflies speaking of Chris’ name.
“Yes, it’s good Mom bought it,” she says naturally, looking down at her iPad. You and Chris freeze in your tracks, eyes instantly locking with one another, yours and his, glossy with emotion, a loving tide enveloping you both. 
It's her first time calling you mom. 
You swallow down the lump in your throat, crafted not by thorns but by petals, not by ache but with love, before placing your chin on the small of her shoulder, murmuring softly. "Mm, will you help me bake, baby?"
“Yes! I wanna be a baker when I grow up, just like you.”
“What happened to being a stylist?”
“I can't be both?” she frowns innocently. 
“You can be anything you want, princess.” you bop her nose and she giggles, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek. 
In the grip of winter, Chris discovers a warmth that defies the season, casting off years of cold from the recesses of his bones. A soft smile graces his lips as he gazes at you, his hopes, his girls, the three of you clad in wolf slippers.
He’ll propose to you tomorrow.
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mattluvr · 2 months
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⋆·˚ ༘ * a pure smut matt sturniolo oneshot !
( dad!dom!matt with a raging breeding kink, oral — f!receiving, edging, dirty talk, praise )
matt wants another baby.
you do not. even if the sex to conceive your daughter had been some of the best you two had ever had, the dirty words matt had uttered that night still engraved into your brain, you’re adamant that you don’t want another child.
your daughter, now two years old and goddamn adorable, wreaks havoc at every opportunity, despite her angelic appearance; your brunette ringlets and matt’s bright blue eyes she’s inherited are a mere deception.
so often, when you and matt clamber into bed after a long day trying to prevent your kid from seriously injuring herself, you’re too tired to even entertain the idea of sex, let alone trying for another baby.
but today is your fifth anniversary with your boyfriend, whose insanely annoying charm has managed to change your perspective on a second pregnancy in the space of a romantic dinner at an italian restaurant.
so now you’re laid on your bed, spread eagled as matt kisses the burning flesh of your collarbones, your dress unzipped and being rolled down teasingly slowly. you moan into the thick air as one of his hands comes down to tweak your nipple through the flimsy material of the lingerie set you’d specially chosen; blue, his favourite colour.
“shit, matt.” you mumble, arching your back into his touch with a low moan. “makin’ me feel so good.”
“that right?” matt smirks, pinching your nipple harder to push your stimulation. you whine in response, stretching your neck to the side to invite matt to make more marks, not having to restrict the sounds pouring out of your mouth.
on the rare occasion that the pair of you share moments of intimacy, it’s rushed and usually restricted to mutual masturbation to reduce the risk of your daughter walking in and being scarred for life. but she’s staying with uncle chris and uncle nick, who are most likely feeding her way too much ice cream past her bedtime, so you don’t have to worry about anybody walking in.
“so fucking good.”
matt smiles, pleased with himself, and hungrily removes your dress completely, practically drooling at the full lingerie set reveal. he works quickly to pull the straps of your bra down, hands reaching round the back of you to undo the clasp, the tips of his fingers calloused but gentle. then, matt works on your panties, trimmed with baby blue lace, pulling them down, the material tickling your skin.
you buck your hips up as all three pieces of material float to the foot of the bed, starting to become impatient. you crave matt’s dick inside you, core pulsating as your boyfriend begins to move away from your chest, pressing kisses along your stomach until his mouth is level with your heat.
he doesn’t wait a second; lips are latched onto your clit before you have a chance to register what’s going on, a loud whine erupting from your throat as you let your head fall back on the pillow behind you. matt hasn’t eaten you out in months, and you’ve forgotten how talented he can be with his tongue.
as soon he latches onto your swollen clit, oozing arousal, you start to feel the familiar pit of longing form at the bottom of your stomach, close to release already. embarrassing; you must’ve been overly sensitive, making you easy to push to the edge, matt’s harsh kitten licks over your pulsing bud not helping matters.
your boyfriend picks up the pace of his ministrations against your bundle of nerves, gripping your thighs tighter as you begin to shake, on the verge of releasing. “matt,” you warn, whimpers spilling past your lips. “i’m close.”
“already?” his degrading tone and the laughter that follows only heightens your embarrassment, covering your face with your hands. immediately, matt is jumping to remove them, one hand lingering to grip your jaw. he sighs before diving back in, his next words muffled. “fine, just make it a good one.”
but as soon as he gives you permission, your orgasm right fucking there, matt pulls away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“matt!” you cry out, using your thigh to hit his head, mouth wide open in disbelief. “i can’t believe you just did that.”
“don’t talk back to me.” he hisses, the hand that was still loosely on your jaw now squeezing your lips shut. you rarely see the dominant side of him this extreme, glad that he’s restricting your words in your state of speechless.
“you can cum once i’ve fucked this second baby into you. no complaints.”
and then he starts thrusting into you, roughly and relentlessly; you hadn’t even noticed him slip his lower garments off, pushing his way inside you, suddenly aware of how he fills you up and the pleasure you’re receiving from his length and girth.
you moan, legs instinctively widening, the sensitivity of being edged mere seconds before still raging, the knot in your stomach threatening to snap. matt is also getting sloppy, his thrusts weak as he struggles to restrain his release. he still has his hand pressed firmly against your jaw, muffling all your noises as you edge close to your orgasm.
“fu-uck.” matt’s breath hitches, his eyes trained on you as he pumps in and out; he already looks fucked out, his hair sticking to his forehead. “you gonna let me make you pregnant again? huh?”
you nod, eyebrows drawing together, the pleasure overbearing. you need to cum and you need cum now. matt is still whispering dirty things in your ear is he hovers over you, the boy’s legs shaking yours. “i’m gonna cum soon, baby, okay? you’re not gonna let a drop out.”
you nod again, your whole body tensing in your effort to hold back your orgasm. you’re willing matt to hurry up, silently due to matt’s continued clamped hand, the bed creaking mercilessly.
“oh, right there.” matt groans, his orgasm now on the edge too; you can feel it in his body movements. “god, sweetheart, i’m gonna…”
he trails off, head thrown back, hand dropping from your chin as he braces himself on either side of you. “cum!”
and he does, messily but in strong waves, painting your insides white with guttural moans. and, with your mouth finally freed, you’re able to orgasm as loud as you want, your body shaking as your high rolls over you.
once you’ve both come down from your shared peaks, matt pulls out of you, using his index finger to push the cum that trailed out after him back up into you; he evidently wants that second baby more than anything, and whilst you’re exhausted looking after one, there’s nobody you’d rather have multiple kids with than the boy now collapsed by your side, panting.
in your tangle of bare skin, you caress your boyfriend’s cheek, your words a soft whisper. “i’m excited now.”
“for what?” matt raises a quizzical eyebrow, placing the hand that had been gripping your jaw roughly minutes before over yours.
“for our daughter to have a sibling, duh. if we’re not pregnant after that, then i want a refund.”
and matt’s smile in response could’ve lit up a million stars.
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heauxplesslydevoted · 3 months
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Eddie being forced to grow up and mature early at multiple points (helping to raise his sisters and being the “man of the house” when his dad was away, becoming a dad and husband at 19, going to the military) during his adolescent years, being seen as stoic and reserved despite being goofy and a silly little goose at heart, and Buck being treated like he’s young, dumb and naive despite being very mature, introspective and intelligent.
Buck brings out the youthful effervescence and always provides a safe space for Eddie to indulge in his silliness (poker night, the bachelor party, making dumb corny jokes on calls, little game nights and jokes with them and Chris, etc), while Eddie grounds Buck and lets him prove his competency (ya know, helping him raise Chris, no big deal), and I think that’s beautiful.
I’ve never seen two more soulmate shaped people in my life, it makes me kinda dizzy.
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55sturn · 29 days
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✮ LOSER!CHRIS AND MEAN GIRL!READER BLURB 0.1
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warnings: swearing, suggestive comments and content, smoking, mentions of drinking, mentions of harder drugs [ cocaine ].
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it was nearing midnight when y/n had called chris, demanding that he meet her at the 7/11 in the middle of their two communities that was a little over a ten minute walk or skateboard ride. chris knew she wanted him to buy her a pack of malboro reds, knowing that the manager would snitch on her to her dad, despite her being twenty-two. chris, dejectedly, agreed. unable to find it in him to deny her demands that she uttered in that sickly sweet voice that made his head spin and blood rush to his cock.
chris swerved between the few pedestrians that littered the sidewalks, pushing himself forward with his right food as he huffed his strawberry elf bar, yet another thing that y/n had gotten him hooked on. he had been avoiding her for the last few days, given their last interaction, he was stumbling around the party that they were both at, hoping to find her but after he opened the door to the basement and went down a couple steps, he had caught her face first in the table, a dollar bill rolled tightly between her fingers as she snorted the thin lines of powder. as she tilted her head back, letting the drug flow into her system, she made eye contact with chris, her heart slightly breaking at the saddened look in his eye.
but in true y/n fashion, she was quick to glare at him and roll her eyes, tuning back into whatever conversation had been going on before chris came down, but when she looked back toward the staircase, she was met with an empty spot where chris had been. the look that had glazed over his eyes stirred up the guilt in her stomach, the bitter feeling eating away at her that she forced herself to ignore.
as she stood out the 7/11 she told chris to meet her at, she felt her stomach swirling with butterflies, both out of nervousness and excitement, she was excited to see him, hoping they could head back to his place, smoke a blunt or two, and then fuck, but as chris approached, his shoulders taut and his forehead creasing in frustration, she worried that she wouldn’t be getting what she wanted.
“hey, here’s the cash, you know what to grab right?” she hums, grabbing a couple twenties from her purse, folding it into chris’ hand as he nods curtly, not wanting to spend too much time talking to her. he’s in and out of the convenience store in the blink of an eye, tossing three of the four packs into her hand, keeping one for himself as he picks up his board.
“what you’re not gonna stay and talk?” she pouts, hoping to somehow convince him to stay.
“what would i say? it’s not like you listen anyway, y/n.”
“wow no princess or sweetheart, i really must’ve made you mad.” she chuckles, trying to lighten the tension between them as he stares at her with a miffed expression.
“you did, i never sold that shit to you for a reason, y/n. that shit is dangerous and i actually give a fuck about you, whether you want me to or not.” he sighs, rubbing a hand along his jaw, ignoring how it clicks in frustration as she rolls her eyes, stepping closer to him.
“i know, okay. i know, and i’m sorry. i just wanted them to keep liking me. i won’t do it again, i swear.” she mumbles, knowing full well that she was just trying to manipulate him so he would take her back to his place, but she also knew she didn’t have her claws in him just yet.
“if you wanna convince me, you gotta try harder than that, sweetheart.” he chuckles, stepping close enough to her for their chests to touching, his eyes not straying from hers as he tucks a piece of hair behind her ear.
“i pinky promise.” she giggles, sticking out her pinky to him, watching as he loops his around hers before he leans down to whisper in her ear.
“okay, let’s head back to mine, you’ve got some making up to do.” he hums, his lips ghosting along the shell of her ear, sending shivers down her spine as she swallows thickly and nods.
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STARS CORNER i’m excited for the next lil segment of this series
FIC TEASER HERE
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astralis-ortus · 4 months
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you are my sunshine
✱ a bang chan headcanon
— you'll never know, dear, how much i love you.
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w.count → 0.6k genre → slice of life, fluff warning → just watching chan (chris) being a parent :> a.n → something light because brain.exe couldn't handle words atm :> also, would you believe me if i said the actual idea behind this was this specific tiktok... lolㅠ ⋆ see masterlist
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growing up, you were always sure you didn’t want to have any kids. you have your reasons, but ultimately, you’re scared you couldn’t be the kind of parents you wanted to be and you don’t want another soul to have to bear those sort of consequences after your inability to be one. you should be the one carrying them, even if it meant people will judge you for it.
being together with chris, however, had changed your mind.
no, not because he coaxed you into wanting one or anything like that—you knew he wanted to have kids, but he wasn’t even bothered when you told him about the matter when the topic of marriage came up. but then, whenever you see him doing even the most mundane of things... you just knew you’d be just fine raising a child together with him.
chris would be very hands on as soon as your baby arrives. he knows the best temperature for the baby formula, he knows how to wash and sterilize the baby bottle, he knows how to change your baby’s diaper—heavens, sometimes you even wondered if chris was a walking encyclopedia for any baby related matters.
chris would also be the one taking care of your baby throughout the night. ‘i’m already up anyway, you deserve the night’s sleep’ he reasoned, and being a man of his words, you would actually sleep through the night as chris would go as far as setting a bassinet in his home studio to make sure he’d be able to keep an eye on your baby while he works.
as your child grew up, chris would make sure to attend as many of the parents-teacher meeting as he possibly could. he knew the nature of his work would cause him to be away for quite a period of time when he had to, but he when he could, he would even collude with your kid to ask you to let their dad be the one to take part for the next meeting. he just loved to be present when he could, and you could see it through the way he laugh with your kid.
your child’s puberty hits chris the hardest—your kid did not grow distant in any kind, they still look for their parents a lot, but for chris who used to be attached to your kid like a stamp on an envelope, letting your kid learn how to slowly become their own person felt like he’s slowly losing the little sunshine who used to only look for him. chris knew it’s going to happen eventually, but for the time being, he’ll keep himself busy with the tons of pictures and videos he took when his baby was younger.
another big wave of blue hits when chris had to send off your now young adult child to college. chris wouldn’t let you nor your child see, but you know the tears his studio had seen after you two had gone home from the airport, mere hours after your child flew thousands of miles away to chase after their dreams. despite the amount of calls and texts your family groupchat exchanged, it wasn’t the same without your child being home.
lastly, chris would finally let his tears be known when he had to let his little sunshine start off their own little family. the realization that the little baby who once fits in his arms is now ready to become a parent themselves were proven a little too overwhelming for chris—but everyone understood. everyone saw the mountain that is chris’ love for his child, and they understood.
not to worry, though—because now whenever your child visits with their own little bean,
chris had found himself another sunshine to take care of.
©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡
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imagineshere-forall · 4 months
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- staying with mom pt. 2 ✰ e. diaz
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Summary/Request: For a part 2 to Staying With Mom, maybe they’re at the hospital getting Mom checked out and both Chris and Eddie keep calling her mom. The reader is just having all the feels and she just loves it and Eddie loves it too. If you need more detail just let me know.
Genre: Fluff
Warnings: poor medical knowledge and tooth rotting fluff
Pairing:  Eddie Diaz x fem!reader 
Word Count: 1.3k
Notes: Not super happy with how this turned out, but oh well, I missed writing and wanted to write some more. Please send requests im up to s7 of the walking dead, so am also taking requests for that! Also in this Shannon never came back, she left and Chris has no memory of her.
part one
The journey in the ambulance had been uneventful, despite there being a paramedic in the back of the van with you and your boys, Eddie had taken over your care. The paramedic that had been accompanying in the van had mostly just sat back and let him take over, occasionally pointing out where some bits of equipment were.
The pain in your leg was still excruciating, and it didn’t help that Eddie was shining a light in your pupils every few minutes to check the reactions. Once he realised your leg injury was not your only injury, and you had been knocked unconscious by debris, he had become frenzied urging the driver to go faster while he kept checking your vitals. You hadn't even told him you hit his head, but when he helped you to get a bit more comfortable on the stretcher he noticed the blood that stained his hand after he held your head.
“Eddie, I’m fine, my leg is just hurting” You said, pushing the torch away from your face after Eddie started checking your eyes again.
“Fine? Babe your head is bleeding and your leg is looking a bit squashed,” Eddie sighed. He was clearly worried about you. 
Chris had remained curled up to your side on the stretcher, clutching your middle, scared to let go. Despite the stressful situation, his heart had warmed at the sight in front of him. 
Once you had arrived at the hospital you were placed in the urgent waiting room. As you were still conscious and talking, people who had been more injured in the earthquake had taken priority over you. Due to the state of your leg the ambulance staff had placed you in a wheelchair and disinfected the stretcher before they headed back out to help more people. 
“How are you feeling?” Eddie asked, once again. 
“Chris, your dad is crazy,” You said, ignoring Eddie looking at the boy slouched over the arm of your wheelchair. Eddie rolled his eyes and smirked at this. 
It wasn’t much longer until you were called to be seen by a doctor, and your boys quickly stood up and wheeled you into the room with the doctor. Chris held onto your hand and walked alongside you as Eddie pushed you.
“How are you feeling?” The doctor asked as soon as she shut the door to the private room.
“Mom got hurt in the earthquake,” Chris spoke first. He was so quick that you hadn’t had the chance to speak yet. 
“Well, we better check mom out then,” The doctor said, smiling at Chris.
For the rest of the appointment, you were referred to as mom as the doctor tried to reassure Chris, and it just warmed something in your heart. Unknown to you but it also made Eddie’s heart swell. 
Despite you feeling fine, the doctor wanted to keep you for observation overnight and you had managed to convince her to let Eddie and Chris stay with you. Chris went back to being snuggled into your side once you were given a bed, and promptly fell asleep. 
“How are you feeling, mom?” Eddie whispered, putting emphasis on the last word. 
“Apart from the broken leg, I feel amazing,” you whispered looking down at the sleeping boy tightly curled into you. “I can’t believe he called me mom.”
“He loves you so much, as do I.” Eddie smiled as he leant forward to give you a small kiss “Which I guess means I've got to do something.”
You looked puzzled as Eddie leant over and shook Chris awake. 
“Eddie, he was asleep, what are you doing?” you ask, very confused, but your question was ignored.
“Chris, do you remember that thing I said I was going to ask mom one day, it’s time.” Upon hearing this Chris shot up, filled with so much energy and sat up at the end of your bed.
“Your jacket is over there dad” Chris pointed to the chair in the corner of the room. Eddie quickly stood up, and hurried over to the chair, almost slipping over on the clean hospital floors.
“Be careful Eddie, we don’t want both of us injured,” you sighed.
“It’s all good mom, don’t you worry,” he smiled.
Eddie sat down in the chair next to your head, jacket folded over on his lap, and took your hands in his.
“What are you doing?” You sit up a bit more in your bed, confused as to what was happening.
“It’s okay mom,” Chris said. It was hard to feel worried when he called you mom, it made you so happy. You turn back to Eddie who has your hands in his. 
“y/n, you have made both mine and Chris’s life so much better. There isn’t anyone I’d rather be Chris’s mom, and my wife.” Eddie paused, reaching into the inside zip pocket of his jacket. You wanted to ask what was happening, but you were in such shock you were speechless. In Eddie’s hand was a small velvet box. While holding the box, he went back to cradling your hand. 
“y/n will you do me the absolute pleasure of being my wife” Eddie’s voice started to crack. 
“And my mom!” Chris shouted.
“Yes, and Chris’ mom. Will you please marry me?” At this point, Eddie’s voice was wobbling while he awaited your answer. 
You struggled to speak, eyes streaming, your spare hand over your mouth in shock. Unable to get the words out you just nodded. 
“Yes?” Eddie questioned.
“Yes.” you nodded. 
Eddie quickly grabbed your hand and placed the sparkling ring that was once in the box on your ring finger, and then kissed your face all over before placing on last kiss on your lips while cradling your face in his hands. 
“Eddie, have you just been carrying around this gorgeous ring?” you asked as you began to admire the jewellery adorning your finger. 
“For about a year and a half,” he shrugged looking down at your hand. 
“We’ve only been together a little over 2 years,” you laughed. 
“I would’ve had it sooner, but it was really hard to get your ring size without being obvious.” he smiled.
“You are crazy Edmundo,” you laughed.
“Crazy for you, and now you’re stuck with me forever.”
“I wouldn’t want anything else, now get your butt on this bed, I want to have a cuddle with my boys,” you said as you shuffled making space for the three of you. Once Eddie was on the bed, you helped Chris get in the middle of you, it was tight and uncomfortable, but you didnt want to be anywhere else. 
“I love you guys, and now you’re my boys, forever.” you smiled as you placed a kissed on each of their heads.
“I love you mom” 
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dollfacefantasy · 4 months
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RESIDENT EVIL MASTERLIST ♡
everything on this list is mdni (18+)! | ☆ = one of kenny's favs
★彡[ʟᴇᴏɴ ᴋᴇɴɴᴇᴅʏ]彡★
RE2R Leon: Restless Dreams (18+) Leon's been working a lot lately. He comes home late one night when you're sleeping and tries to make it up Playing to Win (18+) / Part 2 ☆ Your new stepdad asks you to call him daddy despite being near your age Like Lovers Do (18+) Bored of the RPD banquet, you pull Leon away for some fun
RE4R Leon: Sleepy (18+) You wake up early in the morning with Leon sleeping on top of you Wash His Hair (fluff) You wash Leon's hair and help him unwind Daddy's Home (18+) You let the d word slip during sex and Leon won't let you live it down Just Like the Movies (18+) Leon dons the ghostface mask to let you live out a fantasy And If the Sun Comes Up (18+) Vampire Leon has to show you that the two of you are meant to be Leon Marks You Request (18+) Leon gets jealous and has to mark you as his Sweater Request (18+) You and Leon do the deed while he's wearing a turtleneck Chubby Reader Request (18+) You're feeling insecure, and Leon just can't have that
Infinite Darkness Leon: Let Them See (18+) Leon teases you in public then pulls over to deal with the problem he's created Baby Bunny (18+) / Part 2 Leon helps his sweet baby bunny through her heat End of the Night (18+) Leon finds comfort in his pregnant wife after a long hard day of being in the mob Needy Girl (18+) You're a needy little thing, and Leon just can't get enough of you Precious in Pink (18+) Leon plays with his precious puppy girl by watching her tail wag
RE6 Leon: Hold My Calls (18+) ☆ Leon takes a call on his flip phone while the two of you are doing it Blue Jeans (18+) Leon looks extra fine in his jeans and you can't stop staring Some Extra Lessons (18+) ☆ Professor Leon deals with his feelings for one of his students Under My Thumb (18+) Leon tries out a new toy with you during a dinner date
Vendetta Leon: You Make Me Cry Every Time (18+) Leon is going through a rough patch and takes it out on you Cool Rider (fluff) Leon gets you ready for a ride on his bike
Death Island Leon and older: Video Games (18+) You're playing video games when Leon starts feeling needy Can't Help It (18+) ☆ Your dad's coworker needs a house sitter and you need him inside of you Cowgirl + Praise Kink Request (18+) Leon's got a praise kink and you ride him Down For the Count (18+) Play fighting with Leon gets a little intense Special Day (18+) Your husband wants to give you a special present for your birthday this year Did You Say Something? (18+) / Part 2 ☆ Spankings aren't working anymore. Leon's gonna have to use a different form of punishment Get Him Back (18+) ☆ Your ex boyfriend's dad comforts you after you and his son break up
Misc. Drabbles: Just Can't Resist (18+) The First Time You Squirt (18+) Passing Out (18+) Quiet Night (18+) Kennedy in the Making (18+) Dimples Blurb When You Wanna Turn Your Brain Off (18+) Shower Sex (18+) Bulge Kink (18+) Blowjob on the Phone (18+)
★彡[ᴄʜʀɪꜱ ʀᴇᴅꜰɪᴇʟᴅ]彡★
Puppy Games (18+) ☆ Chris develops a soft spot for the hybrid he's taken in and wants to make her birthday extra special
Teddy Bear (18+) ☆ Not even sleep will cockblock Chris
Pretty When You Cry (18+) Request for overstimulation and daddy kink with Chris
Dad-Bod Chris (18+) Must I say any more?
Playing Without Permission (18+) Pussy spanking drabble
That's What Daddy's For (18+) ddlg drabble
Past the Limit (18+) You misbehave and your boyfriend has to correct you. Even if his friend Leon is right there.
Thigh Praise Drabble (18+)
★彡[ᴀᴅᴀ ᴡᴏɴɢ]彡★
May I? (18+) Ada teaches you how to be self-sufficient
★彡[ᴍᴜʟᴛɪ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ]彡★
Sharing is Caring (18+) / Prequel / Part 2 Your boyfriend wants you to get a little more comfortable with his friend
Better Than One (18+) Leon and Ada take care of their needy puppy before your heat arrives
Room for One More (18+) ☆ Tensions run high when you're forced to share a motel room with your current boyfriend and your former mentor
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libraryofloveletters · 7 months
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Helping Hands
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Ruben Dias x Fem!Reader
Warnings: ruben and reader have a kid! (he's 5), boy dad!ruben, most of the man city squad is in this (kalvin too even tho he's not here anymore lol), mr pep makes an appearance, birthday surprises (yes I know ruben's birthday isn't until may lol), sweetness all around, reader and the guys have a good relationship, one big family vibes.
Word Count: 1.9k
Author's Note: is it really a big shock that this one is for @themandaloriansdiaries - I only ever write ruben when she asks lmaooo.
--
"Mama! Come on!" Chris, your son, tugged on your hand as you carried the bags.
Ruben's birthday was today and the two of you had gotten up to wish him happy birthday before he left, even making sure to make birthday pancakes - Chris's request, despite it being his father's birthday.
Your husband had gone in for training today and he wasn't aware that the two of you were coming with a special surprise for him. Once you're checked in at the front, Chris makes a beeline for the stairs, running up and straight to the office of none other than Pep.
You didn't get a chance to stop him before he opened the door, not bothering to knock as he knew he had Mr. Pep - his nickname for the man- wrapped around his finger.
"Chris!" The man smiled when he saw the little brown-haired boy running into his office. He picks him up, giving him a good squeeze before putting him down.
"Hi Mr. Pep! Do you have any candy?" The boy looks around, peeking into a bowl on the desk. "Check the drawer, kid." He retells him, walking over to hug you hello.
Chris had made himself comfortable in Pep's chair, munching on a Kit Kat while spinning around.
Pep's hand rests on your arm, smiling at you. "What brings you two in today?"
"Just setting up a few things for Ruben's birthday. Chris wanted to celebrate with him and the guys."
"Oh," Pep nods. "Do you need help? Do you want me to get some of the stuff to help you?"
"No no, that's okay. Don't disturb them, it's just hanging up a few balloons and a banner Chris made, we got it. Right buddy?"
Chris nods, giving you a thumbs up with sticky, chocolate covered fingers.
Pep laughs, walking over to wipe Chris's hands with a tissue. "Okay, let me know if you need anything."
You and Chris were off to the cafeteria, taking the long way around as you knew Ruben would be in the gym right now. Chris sits himself down by the window, looking out in the pitch as you unpack the stuff from the bags, passing the balloons to him to start blowing them up; it would keep him occupied for long enough that you could set up whatever else you needed too.
As you tried to unravel the banner Chris was making at home, you heard footsteps behind you and Chris got up, running over to whoever was over there. You turn to see John, balancing the cake in one hand and rubbing Chris's brown hair with the other hand.
"Hi uncle Johnny!" Chris smiled at the man, John smiled back at him. "Hi buddy, how are you?"
"Good! It's daddy's birthday today!"
John nods, "I know, I got the cake, see?" He bends down to show Chris the cake before taking it into the kitchen to put it in the fridge so it doesn't melt.
"Thank you for picking it up," you tell him when he comes back, Chris holding his hand and bringing him over to the table where he was sitting.
"Anytime."
"Help me blow up balloons, uncle Johnny!" Chris passes him a handful of balloons, sitting on his chair as he starts on his own.
Despite having to get to the gym, John sat with Chris and blew up all of the balloons. For every 6 balloons John blew up, Chris blew one. The boy passed the slobbered covered balloon to his uncle who happily tied it; even if he had to wipe his fingers off on his pants after each one.
Once they're done, John gets up. "I have to get to training, buddy. I'll be back at lunch time and I'll bring your dad with me, okay?"
"Okay!" Chris gave John a five high before turning his attention back to the balloons. You wave John off as you start to attempt to bundle the balloons together.
"Baby, why don't you finish up on your banner for daddy? The crayons are in the green bag over there." You nod towards the bag on the chair, Chris nods and walks over to get the crayons before sitting where you had spread out the banner.
You managed to get a few balloons bundled together before you started on the arch, your back was turned to the doorway and you hadn't heard anyone come in.
Kyle had seen Chris about to get up and signalled for him to stay sitting and to be quiet, pointing to you and motioning surprise with his hands. Chris got the just of it and nodded, his little hand covering his mouth to stop him from giggling.
The cold fingers pinch your shoulders, causing you to jump. "What the f- fudge!" You stopped mid swear, shouting before turning to see who it was. Both Kyle and Chris were giggling now, you smacked Kyle on the head with a balloon.
"You're so annoying, Kyle." Groaning, you turn your attention back to the balloon arch you were assembling. The man ignores your comment, making his way over to Chris at the table.
His arms on either side of Chris's chair as he stands behind him, his chin on the boy's head. "Whatcha working on, bud?"
"A banner for daddy! Look how cool my football is," he points towards the football he had drawn in the corner.
"That's really good, I couldn't even draw a circle." He laughed. "Who are these guys?" Kyle asks him, pointing out the few guys Chris had drawn around the ball.
"Well this one is Eddie," he points to the man by the net, wearing bright green. "This one is daddy, uncle Jack, uncle Johnny and this one is you, uncle walks." He points to the one on the left.
Kyle stifles a laugh. "Chris, why is my head so big?"
"Because mama said you have a big head." Chris shrugs, going back to working on his drawings.
The man looks over at you with a raised eyebrow, and you shrug just as Chris did. "It's true, now come be useful and hold this." You stuck the end of the arch out to Kyle, the man coming over to hold it as you filled in the extra balloons that needed to fit in.
He helps you get it up and over the window, along with the streamers before you thank him and climb down from the chair. When you turned around, you found more of the guys had come in as it was pretty close to lunch time.
Jack was sitting with Chris, the two of them chatting about some cartoon they both watch when Jack comes over while Kalvin helped to colour in the letters that Chris had traced.
Everything was coming together, all that needed to be done was put the banner up and get the cake out from the fridge. Erling had come in with Kevin and Kevin offered himself to get the cake as he knew Erling and Jack would probably start bickering about something as soon as he saw the taller man make a bee line for his friend.
Ederson and Stefan were the next two that came in. Erling and Stefan hung the banner up, Jack handing pieces of tape to Chris to stick on the banner. Ederson had Chris up on his shoulders so he could reach it and Rodri gave them thumbs up of approval, letting them know that the banner was hung straight.
Kevin sets the cake on the table, taking it out of the box while you search for the candles in the bag. "Oh crap, I forgot the candles at home."
"I think we have some from John and Kyle's birthday last week," Nathan tells you, walking over to the cabinet to search for them. He returns a moment later with a half pack of candles and a lighter.
Chris helps Nathan stick the candles into the cake; all 27 which is how old he was turning this year.
Everything was set, the rest of the players had come in and even pep had made his way down for the little celebration. All of you were by the window, waiting until you heard someone coming to light the candles.
The big banner above you read happy birthday daddy! in several different coloured crayons, all coloured in and out of the lines - depended on who coloured it.
You look at Chris, fixing his shirt as Ederson held him and you made sure he looked okay. You brushed away the cookie crumbs from earlier before looking around to make sure everyone was there. Jack, who was beside you, also had the same cookie crumbs on his shirt and you brushed those off too.
The sound of John's laughter came from the hallway, followed by the clicking of Bernardo's slides as he never wore them properly. That meant Ruben would be right behind them.
"What are you recording for?" You hear your husband's voice, one of his friend's had their phone out as they were coming in.
Bernardo and John push the double doors open, John stepping into the room to catch Ruben's reaction.
"Surprise!" Everyone shouts, the boys cheering, clapping and whistling for their friend.
Ruben stood there shocked, taking it all in. The handmade banner, streamers, balloons, the cake, all his teammates and most importantly, his wife and his son.
Ederson put Chris down, the little boy running to his dad who picks him up. "Do you like it?!" Chris practically shouts in his dad's ear. Ruben chuckles, nodding. "I love it, Chris. Thank you."
He gives him a hug, putting him down. "Do you like the banner? And the colours I picked?"
"You used all my favourites." He ruffles Chris's fluffy brown hair, identical to his own. Chris clapped, grinning at his father as he ran over to Jack. "Told you!" You hear Chris tell Jack, the two of them laughing.
You walk over to your husband, hugging him. "Surprise, baby."
Ruben kisses your head, "thank you, babe. You didn't have to do all this, you know."
"I know," you say. "I had some help." You nodded towards his teammates behind you.
Ruben leans down to kiss you, his hand on your jaw as he does. "Okay okay, break it up." Kevin calls for you two, "the candles are gonna melt."
You hold Ruben's hand, bringing him over to the table with the cake, Chris standing on the chair on the left to his dad and you're tucked under Ruben's arm on the right. All of his teammates on the other side of the table, John was still recording as Jack started the horribly off key rendition of happy birthday, which was being sung in at least 5 different languages at the moment.
Ruben pulls you and Chris with him, blowing out all 27 candles on the cake. "Happy birthday, babe." You kisses his cheek, Chris swiping some frosting and rubbing it on the other side of his dad's face.
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megalony · 5 months
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Poorly Baby
This is a Evan x reader x Eddie holiday imagine, based on a lovely anon request. I hope you all like it, please let me know what you think and keep sending in the holiday ideas.
Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17 @zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone
Eddie Diaz Masterlist
Evan Buckley Masterlist
Summary: It's the couple's first holiday with their toddler, but things don't exactly go to plan when their daughter becomes ill. And they run into a few rude people at the airport.
Enjoy.
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A sigh burned past (Y/n)'s lips and she closed her eyes, tilting her head back as if looking towards the sky to give her strength.
Her right hand moved to cradle the back of Evie's head while she tilted her chest back so the toddler was leaning into her. She bent her knees and started swaying her little girl from left to right, moving her up and down to calm her down and try to cease her cries.
It didn't work.
The toddler sniffed before she let out another wail into (Y/n)'s neck. Her hands batted up and down against (Y/n)'s chest and shoulder and she started swaying her legs as she howled. Bubbling, sniffling cries wailed past Evie's lips as tears drenched her face and her skin started to burn from how overworked she was making herself.
"Baby, shh come on it's okay-"
"I want daddy!" Her little voice turned into a screech and she sniffed at least five times to draw in a deep enough breath so that she could let out another cry.
"I know, I know baby and he won't be long, the boys are coming." (Y/n) leaned her cheek on top of Evie's head and continued to sway, trying to shush her.
She had moved to stand near the drinks bar to be hidden in the shade and be out the way of the other people. The last thing everyone nearby needed was to listen to Evie screaming her little head off.
The two year old wasn't feeling well today.
This was her first time abroad. They were used to taking Chris away on holiday at least once a year but the last two years hadn't gone to plan. (Y/n) had been pregnant on their last holiday and she hadn't felt very well. And they skipped going abroad last year because Evie was only a baby and it would have been too much for them all.
Now she was two, they thought she would enjoy going abroad. She hadn't liked the airport, at all. And the plane ride had been long and tiring for her, but she had done well. But their two week holiday had been a right mixture since Evie had gotten sick.
The temperature change didn't sit well with her, the newfound heat had made her sick for the first few days. Then when they thought she was getting better, they went out for a walk round and the heat made her pass out. To top it off, for the last two days Evie had been sick and when she was sick, she wanted to be held, cuddled and carried by either one of her dads.
It was their last day today because tomorrow dinnertime they would be heading back to the airport to head home. But their holiday had been fun and exciting despite Evie not feeling her best, and it had been great for them to spend two full weeks together as a family.
"Shh, baby, okay." (Y/n) murmured into the top of her head as she continued to sway from side to side.
With it being their last day and a small amusement park being over the road, Eddie and Evan had taken Chris to go on the rides. It wasn't (Y/n)'s sort of thing and Evie wasn't well enough to go on the baby rides or to watch the boys like she normally would. She would of been fine wandering round with some sweets and a drink, but not today when she was feeling unwell.
So they decided the boys would go on the amusements and (Y/n) had taken Evie in the soft play area in their hotel and then to the toy shop.
"Here they are, look. Who's that?"
Evie lifted her head from (Y/n)'s shoulder, still sniffing and whimpering while she looked around for her dads and her brother.
The boys had got back from the amusements twenty minutes ago and they had gone to get changed into their swim gear since they all wanted one more dip in the hotel pool. The pool was massive. And the cold water would do Evie the world of good, it had made her feel better every other day they spent in here.
"Found them!" Chris pulled on Evan's hand and pointed ahead to where (Y/n) was stood cradling Evie, leaning back against the bar.
Chris was wearing his aqua blue swim trunks with sharks dotted all over them and he had already taken his glasses off and put them in the bag Eddie was carrying, full of their change of clothes and towels. He practically dragged Evan over until they got towards (Y/n).
A tender smile flooded (Y/n)'s face as she looked over her boys. Chris was jumping up and down, desperate to get in the pool already. It had been hard to get the kids out the pool these past two weeks whenever they came down here.
The outdoor pool was spaceous. There was a shallow end with fountains and a little lookout tower for little kids. There was a deeper end for adults, at the far back there were a few slides. Two hot tubs were at the back and all around the pool was a rapid river with currents for people to cruise along in with floats and rubber rings.
(Y/n) dragged her eyes across Evan and Eddie who looked like the sun and the moon. Evan was wearing white and blue striped swim trunks, showing off all the tattoos glittered around his arms and his torso. Including (Y/n)'s favourite which was Evangeline in large italics beneath his collar bone with Evie's footprints stamped beneath her name in purple ink from when she was born.
And she noticed Evan was wearing his knee brace. The amount of walking, swimming and running they had done on this holiday was enough to aggravate his scarred leg so he had brought his brace along. It was waterproof and the tight tension stopped him from limping.
Then there was Eddie. Grey cargo-like trunks with large baggy pockets and blinding white draw strings through the middle. His hair was spiked up, his black sunglasses were perched on his nose and (Y/n)'s eyes found her favourite tattoo on Eddie's skin.
He had Chris and Evie's date of births in a scroll on the lower left side of his abs.
"Looking good," Evan murmured while he let his eyes wander all over (Y/n)'s frame.
It didn't matter how many times he and Eddie had seen her in her swimsuit this week. It was their new favourite. A low cut, strapless strawberry red suit with little white hearts dotted all over.
(Y/n) tilted her head back so she could peck Evan's lips before she took a step closer to Eddie with her arms outstretched. "Thank God. She won't settle for me, she's been screaming for you."
"For me? Aw, baby girl."
They reached out and did a swap. (Y/n) took the bag from Eddie's shoulder while he carefully scooped Evie up from her and turned her around so she was facing him. He saw the light sparkle in her little eyes when she realised who it was that now had hold of her. He was a little surprised she was crying out for him when Evan had been the one who had slept with her on his chest last night instead of leaving her coughing and sulking in the crib.
As soon as she was bundled up against his bare chest, Evie stopped crying. She turned to little gasps and sniffs and deadlocked her arms around Eddie's neck. Her nose brushed up against his neck and made him shiver while she curled up against him.
She looked a little cutie, despite the snot and tears drenching her face and the heat radiating off of her. Evie's hair was gathered up in a scrunchie and she was wearing her navy blue Fireman Sam swim costume because she thought it was both her dad's in cartoon form.
"How's she been?" Evan curved his free arm around (Y/n)'s waist and let Chris lead them towards the pool.
"Well, she's not been sick and she found a new firetruck in the toy shop which will be in the cot with her tonight, I'll bet."
It had been no secret at the station that Evan held it over Eddie's head that Evie preferred the fire truck to the ambulance. They got her a few toys of each because she was always at the station to see the team and her family. But she loved the fire truck. It didn't matter when Eddie told her about the ambulance or that he drove the ambulance whereas Evan rarely drove the truck.
And when they went to the toy store and she saw a fire truck that was just the right size for Evie to hold and cuddle like it was a teddy, the toddler wouldn't let it go.
(Y/n) had a gut feeling that when they got back to the room, Evie wouldn't let the truck out of her sight. She would fall asleep with it.
"That's our girl."
"You're burning, baby girl." Eddie spoke quietly against the top of her head while he smoothed his hand up and down her back. "Let's get you in that pool, hm?"
"Hot," Evie murmured while she drooled on Eddie's chest. She was a lot calmer now she was in his arms and she was panting from how badly she had been crying.
"I know, poorly baby." Eddie cooed with his lips against her temple and he shivered when he stepped into the pool. The contrast of freezing cold water lapping at his heels and the burning hot toddler on his chest sent his heart into a frenzy and made him shiver.
He followed after his partners, grinning when Chris flopped down onto his stomach and started crawling and shimmying further into the water.
When the water rose to his knees, Eddie slowly lowered himself down until he was sat down in the shallow end. He stretched his legs out into the water and gently lowered Evie down until she was sat on his lap with the water up to her tummy. A smile pulled at Eddie's lips when Evie shivered and gasped but the cold water seemed to make her feel better instantly.
She splashed her hands out at her sides and hit the water around Eddie's knees.
"Happy now, baby?" He whispered softly when Evie slouched down against him so her chest was submerged in the water. Her head pressed back into his abdomen and she grinned a toothy smile up at him as she began to kick her legs out and swatted him in the thighs.
After a few minutes, Eddie gently moved his hands beneath Evie's back and her head so she was laid floating up in the water. He weaved her through the water as she squealed, kicking her legs and flapping her arms while Eddie started to move more towards the middle of the pool towards his partners.
"Hey, pretty baby." Evan kissed the top of Evie's head before he leaned over to steal a kiss from Eddie.
He had his arms wrapped around (Y/n) and moved his chin back to perch on (Y/n)'s shoulder while Chris began swimming at their side. He swayed them from side to side before he leaned back in the water and pulled (Y/n) so she was laid between his thighs in the water.
(Y/n) let her head flop back onto Evan's shoulder and she attached her lips to the side of his neck, feeling his chest vibrate with a growl. Both their heads turned to the right when they heard Chris.
"Pops! Pops, floats." He was already swimming off to the side, trying to point and swim at the same time towards the large donut ring floats he could see that no one had grabbed yet. There weren't many of them around and they usually had to wait a while to find one around the pool.
"She stays with you two if we get those." (Y/n) gave a warning look between the boys and shook her head when she saw them grin.
When they came in the pool the other day and finally got four floats for them all, (Y/n) had sat Evie on her lap in one. It had been a mistake when Evie thought she was about to fall off and scrambled to hold onto (Y/n), whose swimsuit was strapless. She almost dragged (Y/n)'s suit down her chest if Evan hadn't reached out in time to swoop Evie up.
"Yeah, no flashing." Evan murmured in her ear and tightened his arms around (Y/n)'s waist while his hands travelled up to her chest. He gave her a squeeze and pressed a kiss to the side of her head before he detangled himself from her and swam over to Chris to help him.
"Are we gonna go on the rapids, baby?"
Eddie gently lifted Evie up from the water and settled her down on his chest. He felt her hands splash down on his shoulders and she nuzzled her face into his chest. He was relieved to see she was starting to cool down but he didn't want to think of the tantrum she was going to have when they eventually had to get out the pool.
"There's only three, who's bunking up?" Evan had one float hooked over each shoulder while Chris was slumped over the third one. Kicking his legs out at Evan to get towards the sectioned off water where there were currents and buckets that tipped water across them.
"Me and mum." Chris answered before any of them had the chance to say anything.
He grinned when (Y/n) ruffled his damp curls and kissed his temple before she held onto the float and steered it in the right direction so Chris didn't have to.
"Alright, in you go."
Evan held the float steady while (Y/n) dipped under the water and climbed up into the float. She secured her legs over either side and smiled brightly when Chris scrambled up too. He sat on the opposite end with his legs strewn over (Y/n)'s lap and his hands reached out to hold hers while Evan gave them a nudge into the water.
(Y/n) slouched down a little move and splashed her feet in the water over the side of the float while Chris used the wall to push them further ahead into the current. She could see Eddie following just behind them, sat like a royal with Evie curled up on his chest. She had her head tucked just beneath his chin, her hands patting his chest and her legs coiled up on his stomach.
He leaned his head back, soaking up the sun while his hand smoothed up and down Evie's back.
"Alright back there, loner?" Eddie tilted his head a bit further back, making sure he didn't tip the float over, so he could look behind him at Evan. He saw the way Evan pretended to laugh and stuck a middle finger up at him.
Eddie used his foot to kick the wall on the right and it spun the float round so he and Evie were facing backwards. Not that Evie cared right now, she was so settled he wondered if she was going to go to sleep.
"Oh no," He muttered and leaned forward, pressing his lips to the top of Evie's head as his arms curved around her tighter when he noticed the water buckets up ahead. (Y/n) and Chris sailed through them, but Eddie could see they were about to tip and pour water onto him. If Evie got splashed in the face she would scream. The chlorine stung her eyes and she couldn't handle water in her ears.
A groan spluttered past his lips when the water crashed down on the back of his neck and soaked through his hair and all across his shoulders.
"Daddy!" Evie wriggled against him, managing a little smile when she realised Eddie was soaked but she had remained mostly dry, at least her head did. He smiled down at her and shook his head whilst trying to keep his glasses perched on his nose.
When he heard the others laughing, Eddie took a calculated look around to see who was closest to them. It happened to be Evan who was only a foot away.
With a little strain, Eddie stretched his leg out towards Evan's float and gave it a swift kick. But his jaw dropped and a quiet 'ooh shit' passed Eddie's lips when he kicked the float a little too harshly.
Evan toppled out.
"Eddie!" (Y/n) pressed a hand to her mouth and tried not to laugh, but she could already see Chris tossing his head back with a cackle. Poor Evan flipped backwards and dunked under the water. "Go, go." She whispered to Chris, helping him reach for the wall and propell their float further down the river stream towards the people ahead of them. They needed to get away before Evan tried to retaliate and get his own back.
Eddie had to admit Evan looked rather fetching when he broke through the water. His curls stuck to his forehead, water cascaded off the end of his nose and dripped down his lips that were a very dark shade of red. He was panting for breath and his shoulders were hunched up, tensing and morphing the tattoos across his body.
"You little-"
"No, no! Hey, I've got the baby- I've got the baby don't you dare!" He curled his hands around Evie and shuffled her a little higher up his chest so her chin was perched on his shoulder. Although his lips morphed into an open-mouthed grin as he tried to move their float to get away.
Evan couldn't tip him over or splash him or pull him from the float because he had Evie in his arms. If she went under the water she would scream and flap about and cause a scene. He would have to wait until Eddie didn't have Evie in his arms if he wanted payback.
"I'm sorry babe."
***
Leaning forward, (Y/n) pressed her temple into Evan's back and closed her eyes for a few seconds. She could feel herself smiling when he reached behind to hold her hip and give her a gentle squeeze.
She reached her right hand out and smoothed her hand up and down Evan's waist while her left hand juggled Evie and moved the toddler a bit higher up onto her chest. She could feel Evie drooling into her shoulder and the little pants she let out told (Y/n) she was barely awake. That's what they wanted. They wanted Evie tired and subdued so they could get through customs and get on the plane without a fuss.
The temperature change from the boiling heat outside to the chilled aircon in the airport had made Evie cry and feel ill. And it wasn't doing (Y/n) any favours either.
"Are we nearly there?" (Y/n) didn't bother lifting her head from Evan's back. It was a comfort to feel his tense back in front of her and to breathe into his shirt and inhale his scent.
It felt like they had been queuing in this line for hours. They were going to miss their flight if they waited much longer. All it was was a bag check and a scanner to make sure they weren't bringing anything back or taking a bomb onto the plane. They hardly had to queue back home when they were at the start of their holiday. Now it was the end, things were dragging out.
"Yep, just about."
Evan gave her hip another squeeze while he leaned forward and perched his chin on Eddie's shoulder to look at the queue. They were just about at the scanner. Finally.
When Eddie started to get plastic tubs for him and Chris to put their things into, Evan leaned forward and grabbed one for himself and one for (Y/n). He dumped his bag into the box and took out the electronics, smiling to himself that (Y/n) was still cosied up against his back. And he could feel Evie snuggled between them too.
He felt (Y/n) press a kiss between his shoulder blades before she reluctantly pulled away, but she still stood close to him.
She struggled to keep Evie in one arm and take off her bag and sling it into the tray Evan had placed down for her. They had another few feet to go before they would be in the scanner, so (Y/n) wasn't in a hurry to take off her shoes or unpack the electronics from her bag.
Her breath hitched in her throat and she tensed up when she felt a shoulder nudge into her back.
Great. She had a pushy couple behind her.
Moving her hand to cradle the back of Evie's head, (Y/n) cuddled her daughter closer and took a step closer to Evan until she was practically meshed up against his back. She didn't want to be stood close to strangers, it was why they had walked around the airport with (Y/n) in between the boys while she carried Evie. So no one else would get close.
A gasp tumbled from her lips and she pushed up against Evan when the man behind her leaned over her.
She could feel his chest press into her back when he roughly leaned over her shoulder to grab a tray for his own items. He wasn't even next to the bag scanner yet and he was trying to get ready. It wouldn't make the queue speed up or make (Y/n) move any faster, she could only go as fast as everyone else.
She shivered and tilted her head up when Evan turned. He glanced over his shoulder and looked down at (Y/n) first, but she saw something burn in his eyes when he realised why she had stumbled into him.
"It's okay." (Y/n) muttered quietly and reached out to give Evan's bicep a light squeeze.
The man behind her had grabbed a tray but he was back to waiting in line behind them now. (Y/n) didn't want Evan to start a fight, not so close to the security guards in case they caused a scene or got delayed. They couldn't miss this flight when their luggage was already boarding the plane and they all wanted to get home.
She watched Evan huff and lock his jaw tight and his gaze burned into the couple behind them before he turned back round. He busied himself snapping his belt from his trousers and dumping it in the tray along with his shoes.
And he stayed tense and straight while (Y/n) held his arm and leaned into his back so she could slip off her shoes and put them in the tray.
(Y/n) took to humming while she rested her lips against Evie's temple and gently rocked her from side to side. She stayed close to Evan and shuffled forward with him while he took her tray and placed it on the conveyer belt on their right.
"Oh!"
(Y/n)'s arms tightened around Evie and she snapped her eyes closed when the man behind her pushed her once again. Only this time, with a little more force and (Y/n) was sure he'd done that on purpose to make her move.
Her elbow clattered against the conveyer belt and her head bashed into the back of Evan's arm. But it was Evie's cry that made her wince. Poor Evie slammed into Evan's back too and got squished between both parents. The abrupt motion woke her up immediately and she began to whimper, wondering what was going on.
"Do you mind?" Evan's voice snapped through the air like the jaws of a crocodile.
His hands were desperate to curl into fists but he refrained and moved both hands to hold (Y/n)'s arms when he turned round. He kept her and Evie tucked into his chest while his eyes bore down into the short but stocky man stood behind his girls.
He didn't react when he felt Eddie's hand on his waist, trying to see around him to find out what was wrong.
"What?"
"You've just pushed my partner and she's clearly got a child in her arms. Why don't you try being careful?" He looked down and moved his hand to indicate to Evie who was whimpering in (Y/n)'s arms.
When he didn't get an answer or even an apologetic look, Evan sighed. He moved his hands down from (Y/n)'s arms to hold her hips and turned them round so she was in front of him. Keeping both his girls wedged between him and Eddie so they were safe from another stumble.
He could see Eddie giving him a certain look, telling him to leave it at that, but Evan couldn't help himself. He turned to look over his shoulder and stared down at the stranger who was glaring daggers through him.
"Push me, pal. See what happens."
It was a dare more than a threat, but it did the trick because when Evan turned around, he could feel two feet of space between him and the stranger. He didn't want to take the risk and find out.
***
"Shh, good girl, there we go." Eddie pressed his lips to the top of Evie's head and rubbed his hand slowly up and down her back.
He could feel her snotting and whimpering into his neck while her hands fisted in his shirt and pulled it to her chest. She hadn't been best pleased when Eddie told her he couldn't take it off on the plane. Throughout their holiday she had been used to cuddling up to Eddie and Evan without their shirts on. She liked the skin contact.
If he could of snuggled Evie under his shirt, he would have.
He sat up straighter in his chair and gently swayed Evie up and down on his chest as she continued to whimper quietly. She didn't feel well, and the turbulence frightened her. Eddie was surprised she hadn't been sick yet, but then again, she threw up just before they got on the plane.
"Wanna go sit with mum and papa for a while?" He spoke against her temple before he glanced over at Chris who was sat on his right and was finally happy playing a game.
Chris hadn't been happy that they weren't all sitting together. On their first flight at the start of the holiday, the four of them all had seats together at the very back of the plane. Chris had sat next to Evan and only a small aisle separated them from (Y/n) and Eddie while they passed Evie between them throughout the flight.
This time, Chris and Eddie were in the middle row while Evan and (Y/n) were a row in front on the left row. So Chris couldn't lean over and see them properly whereas Eddie had to lean over the aisle and strain his neck to get Evan's attention.
It wasn't ideal, but at least they were paired up.
When Evie murmured into his neck, Eddie slowly stood up in the cramped space and shifted onto the aisle on his left. He took three steps forward and leaned his hips against Evan's seat.
He could see (Y/n) was half awake with her head slumped on Evan's shoulder and an arm bound around her waist. She didn't feel well. Whereas Evan was slouched down with his legs stretched out in the aisle. He and Eddie didn't exactly fit in the seats properly which was why they both sat on the aisle seats so they could stretch out.
"You sitting with us, baby?" Evan reached his arms up and eased Evie down onto his lap. He smiled when Eddie gave his shoulder a squeeze and pecked his temple, whispering a quiet 'thank you' before he headed back over to Chris.
(Y/n) smiled tiredly, keeping her right hand curled around Evan's bicep while she moved her left hand to rub up and down Evie's back.
She closed her eyes and shuffled down in her seat, curling more into Evan until she was almost sitting on his lap along with Evie. (Y/n) didn't like sitting next to strangers. It was a Godsend that the arm rests folded up so (Y/n) could shuffle closer to Evan. She had nothing against the elder man sat next to her, but (Y/n) would rather cuddle up into one of her partners than be close to a stranger.
And it wasn't as if Evan could comfortably sit- or even fit- in the middle seat which was why he and Eddie were on the end seats.
"Wanna watch a movie?" Evan looked down at Evie with a smile, but she shook her head and whimpered. She didn't have the attention span for a movie, she didn't feel well and she didn't know what to do with herself.
She stayed perched on his lap with her eyes fixated on Evan's arm. He had his right arm around her waist to keep her settled on his lap while his left arm stayed between him and (Y/n). Right where Evie could see and start to glide her fingertips across his tattoos to keep herself occupied.
Evan started to jitter his leg up and down which made Evie smile, if only for a few seconds. Her chin tilted down into her chest and she messed around with his arm which made Evan grin, he loved the sensation when either Chris or Evie started to draw patterns on his skin or trace his tattoos. He watched her contently for a few minutes while (Y/n) closed her eyes and tried to ward off the sickness she felt.
But (Y/n)'s eyes snapped open and Evan's smile faded when the seat in front of him moved.
Whoever was sitting in front tried twice to recline his chair, but it wouldn't go back any further. The way he bashed his frame into the chair caused it to jolt into Evie's back. It wasn't enough to hurt her, but it was enough to scare her into crying out and her big doe eyes looked up at Evan in fright.
"Papa…"
"S'alright, come here, look."
Evan moved his hands to Evie's sides and gently lifted her up from his lap so he could lean her on his chest instead. She rested her cheek on his shoulder and looped her arms around his neck, bending her knees into his stomach. He looped one arm around the back of her legs and ran his other hand up and down her back in slow circles.
They could just have a cuddle for a while until Evie fell asleep or settled enough to watch a movie or listen to some music.
(Y/n) dug both hands into Evan's bicep and meshed her face into his shoulder, holding her breath when the plane shuddered. She could feel the turbulence rocketing through to her heart and her throat tightened when it felt like the plane was going to drop down out of the sky.
A shudder ran through Evan's neck and he winced when Evie screamed. She wasn't as frightened as Evan thought she would be since this was their first time taking her on holiday and on a plane. But they all knew any turbulence was going to frighten her. She didn't understand what was happening.
Her nails scratched Evan's neck and she scrambled to press further into him as if she thought she could mesh herself into his chest, somehow.
A loud wail left her lips and she began to cry, breaking off every few seconds to scream when the plane gave another jolt to the left or rickoted up and down.
"Shh, baby shh it's okay, you're okay." Evan smothered his lips against Evie's cheek and moved his hand up and down her back while he rocked her back and forth. He could feel her little body trembling against him and it made him want to cry. But he was glad she was sat with him. Eddie was a good flyer, but he didn't like turbulence either. Eddie would be sat stiff in his seat right now, praying for a smooth flight.
When the plane finally levelled out, Evan glanced down at (Y/n). She had stopped shaking too but she didn't lift her head from his shoulder. He didn't mind.
His lips stayed meshed with Evie's cheek and he continued to hum and shush her while leaning from left to right to see if it would help. But his eyes locked with the man sitting in the window seat beside (Y/n). He thought for a moment that the man was going to tut or roll his eyes, but instead, he just smiled.
"You good?" Evan looked down at (Y/n) when she lifted her face from his shoulder so she could rest her cheek on his arm instead. She nodded, but he could see she was uneasy and she still looked sick.
The plane shook again, but it was only a little tremor this time.
"Alright, you're okay baby." He murmured again into Evie's cheek as she continued to whimper into his neck.
But Evan's attention diverted to the chair in front when the man slammed back in his seat again. It was as if he thought bashing around in his chair would somehow make it recline further but if that happened he would be laying on Evan's lap. He gave it another shove with a loud grumble that made (Y/n) open her eyes to see what was going on.
"Oh for fuck's sake."
The stranger's loud remark made (Y/n)'s stomach churn and she darted her eyes up to look at Evan.
Another round of expletives left his lips in a mixture of 'fucking plane' and 'bloody stupid' amongst other things. When he either hit his chair or slammed his elbow back into it, both (Y/n) and Evie quivered.
What was he doing? Was he desperate for a power nap so early into the evening like this?
When he swore again, Evie lifted her head from Evan's neck and looked up at him. She knew those were bad words but she didn't know who was saying them or who was getting angry. The panic was written across her face as her eyes creased and a cry tumbled past her lips as she looked at Evan in fear.
Evan coiled his left arm around Evie to keep her stood up on his thighs with her body slumped against his chest. He smoothed his hand up and down her hip as she wrapped her arms back around his neck and began crying into his shoulder. Even with (Y/n) leaning into her and cuddling her, Evie continued to shake.
"Stop." Reaching forward, Evan planted his right palm flat against the chair in front and gave it enough of a shove that the man jolted forward.
"What are you doing?"
The man leaned around the side of his chair so he could look behind him at Evan. The disgusted look on his face made Evan arch a brow and curl his lips in anger. He didn't look much older than Evan, late thirties, early forties at a push. But the anger and frown lines on his face could have aged him ten years.
"Your swearing and mouthing off is upsetting my daughter. Give it a rest please." Evan sighed through his words while he leaned his chin on his right hand and stared blankly at the man in front of him.
He wouldn't sit here and continue to let this stranger mouth off and frighten Evie when she wasn't well and she was already petrified of being on a plane.
And surely this man's disruptive behaviour was irritating or upsetting a few other people on the plane, not just them.
Eddie leaned to the left with his elbow on the arm rest and his head tilted up so he could look down the aisle. He knew Evan's voice, he could recognise his boyfriend's voice a mile away and he knew that tone. Evan was both losing his patience and getting worried at the same time and that was never good. Eddie could feel his stomach flooding with adrenaline as he watched the man in front of Evan leer at him and look him up and down with scrutinising eyes.
"I thought that was his kid?" The moment those words passed through the stranger's lips and he pointed towards the back of the plane in Eddie's direction, that was it.
"Stay here." Eddie whispered firmly to Chris as he got up and thundered down the aisle. He barely stood beside Evan before the stranger started again.
"And she's not exactly quiet, is she? Screaming her fucking head off since we took off."
(Y/n) took a deep breath and kept both arms coiled tightly around Evan's arm when he looked like he was about to get up. He couldn't retaliate when Evie was whimpering in his arms. The toddler could sense an argument was about to break out and it was frightening her.
But when (Y/n) looked up and realised Eddie was already hovering beside them like a dark omen, she bit her lip.
Her heart thundered in her chest when Eddie roughly grabbed the back of the man's seat and gave it a harsh shove to get his attention. His fingers were almost ripping through the material as Eddie leaned on the chair and leaned down until he was level with the man in front of him.
"I don't know who you think you are, but if you talk about our daughter like that again, you'll be flying home with the air rescue."
Eddie didn't care one bit who this man was or who he thought he was. He had no right to talk to any of them like that or speak about Evie as if she was some silly teenager playing up on purpose. She was a toddler, she was only two years old. How could this man sit there and honestly expect her to be quiet or calm or happy when she was petrified?
"Listen mate, I-"
"No, you're gonna listen to me now. She's a sick little child who's frightened, you're just a prick with an attitude. Show some respect or prepare to be taught a lesson."
Eddie's callous voice and his intensifying gaze had the man stunned to silence. It was very clear what Eddie was saying. If he didn't stop being so disrespectful, Eddie would punch him. He would start and end a fight right here on this plane and he didn't care if they had to make an emergency landing in order to do that.
He wouldn't have someone talking to his family like that and upsetting his daughter.
Eddie took such a deep breath he felt like he was going to pass out. He straightened up until his head was almost touching the roof and he watched as the stranger sank down in his chair and turned to look at the screen in front of him. He wasn't giving Eddie the satisfaction of seeing his embarrassed, frightened expression.
A tender smile pulled at (Y/n)'s lips as she looked between her boys. "Maybe you two should switch seats… keep the kids out the way?"
It seemed a safer option for Evie to be back with Chris two rows behind so she wasn't near that man. She was now petrified. The toddler was trembling against Evan and whimpering quietly into his neck. Sitting here so close to the man that shouted at them was only going to frighten her even more. And she was still attached to Evan at the moment.
It would be better if Evan sat with Chris and made sure the kids were okay. And that meant Eddie could sit directly behind the person he had just threatened and keep an eye on him.
"Come on baby girl," Evan kept Evie close to his chest and pecked (Y/n)'s temple before he got up.
He smiled when he felt Eddie's hand on his lower back and a soft kiss against the side of his neck while they weaved around each other to switch places. Evan made a slow walk over to Eddie's seat where Chris was leaning to get a look at the action, grinning around his thumb that he was biting down on.
And Eddie swung round and flopped into Evan's vacant seat, slouching down so his knees pressed into the chair in front. His left hand instinctively curled around (Y/n)'s upper thigh while he scrunched his right hand into a fist and rested his chin on his hand.
He turned his head to the left and looked at (Y/n) with an arched brow and quirked lips. He watched her lean over until her chest was pressed up against his bicep and her hand fell on his chest that was rising and falling rapidly like he had just run a marathon.
Her lips pressed a kiss to the soft spot behind his ear that had him shivering and gripping her thigh harder.
"Well done, babe."
396 notes · View notes
hysteria-things · 8 months
Note
can u do a story of like chris sturnolio being a dad ??
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UNEXPECTED TURNS
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dad!chris x reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: at first, you were devastated to find out that you were pregnant at this age. now, realization hits and turns out it’s not so bad for not only you; but chris too.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: FLUFFY, angst in the beginning, flashbacks, panic attack
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 760
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: IVE BEEN WAITING FOR A REQUEST LIKE THIS I FIND THESE SO CUTE!
was gonna save this for another day but i’m too impatient LMAO
i’m trying to get through my inbox so there should be lots to come! hope you like it anon :)
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*flashback*
‘pregnant’
you read the word at least ten times on the test in your violently shaking hand.
a sob leaves your throat as you tremble. “no.” you choke out.
you try your best to grab your phone and text chris, your boyfriend. you need him here, and you need him here now.
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“y/n?” his voice echoes through the house. you steadied your breathing, but you’re still a trembling and crying mess on the bathroom floor.
you hear footsteps coming up the steps. “y/n?” he calls out again.
he runs over to the bathroom door and opens it. the panic shoots through your body again when you see him, and you breathe heavily. “i’m sorry.” you say between sobs.
chris worries all over his face. he kneels to you to take your shaky hands in his. “sorry about what? oh my god, what happened?”
you point to the counter where the test is. he knits his eyebrows together and grabs it off the countertop. he scans over it for a few beats before looking into your crying eyes.
he sets the test down, taking his thumbs and trying his best to rub as many tears away. “i’m sorry.” you repeat.
he brings your head into his chest and tries to shush you. “you have nothing to be sorry about.”
he rubs up and down your body in a soothing motion, whispering in your ear. he rocks you from side to side.
his chin is resting on top of your head. “i’m with you on whatever decision you make. you know that right?” he tells you, kissing your head.
you nod. your ear is on his heartbeat, which is strangely calm. you close your eyes to focus on the rhythm, your breathing steadying along with it.
*9 months later*
tears of joy leave your eyes when the doctor carefully places your daughter in your arms. chris held onto your hand tight the whole birth. he rests his forehead on yours and kisses your nose, then the top of your little girl’s head.
“thank you for giving her to me.” you smile at chris.
“are you kidding? you’re the one that went through hell for nine months.” you and him both chuckle. “you’re a warrior, y/n. don’t ever forget that.”
holding your child for the first time is a different type of love. you never want to let them go.
despite both of you being 20, you know you guys can be the best parents to your baby girl.
*now*
chris sighs when he hears your one-year-old in the pack-and-play he set up in the living room. she’s been crying nonstop.
he gets up from the couch and walks over, leaning to get a better view of her. “what is it, little miss?” he says, reaching into the pack-and-play to pick her up.
she stops her crying to look at her father for a split second, but then goes back to the tantrum. “ma-ma.” she cries.
“your mama is taking a nap. she needs to rest.”
that only makes sadie cry harder, and chris tuts. “let’s take a look outside.”
you guys bought a house during your pregnancy, still close to his and your family. it came with a beautiful backyard.
ever since sadie was born, she has been so fascinated by looking outside. it always worked to calm down her little outbursts.
chris turns so his back is facing the glass door. her head rests on his shoulder as she looks at the summer greenery and flowers. her crying immediately stops, and now she’s doing rapid sniffles.
he rubs her back in a soothing circular motion and rocks from side to side. “i don’t like when you’re this upset, little miss. everything’s okay, i promise.”
her cheek rests on his shoulder, her breathing going back to normal.
when it seems to be a little too quiet, he peeks to look at her face, seeing sadie holding on tight to his arm and sleeping peacefully.
he rolls his eyes but smiles. “so dramatic.” he mumbles. “i wonder who you get it from.”
chris walks the sleeping infant into her nursery to set her down in the crib. before doing so, he kissed her on the cheek.
he stays there to admire what’s in front of him. she most definitely has your face and hair, but she has his blue eyes.
this was not a part of the plan in your relationship; at least not this soon. however, you guys wouldn’t want it any other way.
and that’s the beauty of unexpected turns.
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𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!
@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom
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yurozo · 16 days
Text
resident evil headcanons (restaurant au)
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characters: leon, chris, jill, claire, rebecca, ada, luis, carlos, wesker. a/n: this was created as a joke between me and my friends that completely spiralled out of control. maybe the stupidest au i've ever created. wesker and friends hit me up if you wanna use this warnings: vulgar language. sorry, i'm canadian, we swear a lot here.
chris redfield (bartender): he's one of the first hires, and has been working as the head bartender forever. he absolutely loves to lowkey trauma dump on customers unknowingly, only to shake the mixer after just to avoid the awkward silence. the owner has had to move the tv's out of the way of the bar because chris will only look at the screen and fuck up every single drink during a big game. refuses leon everytime he tries to come up to the bar for drinks. he knows when it's him, leon always tries to input it in the system as a customer order for a table that isn't occupied, but he always orders his whiskey in a very specific way that outs him. chris will pour it out in front of him to make a point. he eventually had to make a memo about not letting leon take drinks from the bar anymore. to customers, he is every older woman's wet dream. he knows that flexing his biceps will rake him in more tips, so he does it often. also does it when women are being hit on by creepy men to scare them away. the night that he wears tight turtlenecks are his big paycheck days. chris will never admit that he likes when people squeeze his arms. chris is the guy that everyone has a crush on when they first start working there, it's basically an initiation rite at this point. he's the friendliest one of the bunch and gives wholesome big bro vibes and it makes him absolutely irresistible to new hires. (x reader) if you're working alongside chris in the bar, prepare to constantly run into him. he's a massive guy, and maneuvering around a little bar with that hunk is near impossible without a couple collisions. after a while, he's learned to put a gentle hand on your back whenever he has to move behind you, all for the sake of "workplace safety". he loves to sneak food from the kitchen and share it with you, but this man eats like a horse. like the chefs are genuinely surprised on how much food this man can physically fit inside his body, but he will always leave a portion for you. it takes him a long time to make a move because he's afraid of ruining your friendship and workplace relationship. leon kennedy (server): he got hired a little after everyone else, and got put onto the waitstaff because of his looks. however, this man is super awkward with patrons despite being super popular with older women. he's always getting propositions to get set up with someone's daughter and he always unknowingly shoots them down. (customer: "you're really cute, leon: "ok.") he always makes little jokes to lighten the mood and it is an instant vibe killer. the only people who like them are the old ladies who think he's cute, and dads who genuinely think he's funny.
as for the whiskey incident, leon has tried multiple times to pretend being a bartender when chris is on break to sneak himself a drink. he claims that it makes him better at serving, but three broken trays and countless shattered glasses say otherwise.
leon does have kind of a blank expression when patrons try and get him to cut them deals or do stuff for them. he will immediately go back and scream by himself in the freezer after a difficult customer interaction. has cried silently in the freezer after food got in his hair. (x reader) leon always smells like american crew hair pomade, and always showers himself in cologne on shifts he knows he's working with you. you smiled at him one time in the middle of a rush and he had to sit on the curb to collect himself. leon has a horrible tendency to get distracted whenever you're in his general vicinity, and will completely ignore customers whenever you walk by with literal hearts in his eyes. he's one of the fastest people to make a move, mostly because he lacks any form of subtlety. he always offers to drive you home, always offers to take you out to dinner after work like you already don't work in food service, and always keeps something in his bag for you. he loves to lowkey fuck with you on shifts, like putting an ice cube down your shirt to make you pay attention to him. jill valentine (hostess):
another og worker, and the most no-nonsense of them all, especially with customers. if the wait time is thirty minutes, then you're waiting thirty goddamn minutes. she does not care who you supposedly know. she has gotten a couple writeups for visibly rolling her eyes when large parties come in without a reservation. jill demands a break every thirty minutes to sit with chris on the curb while he smokes a cigarette. she calls it her mental health breaks.
pointedly does not listen to leon when he asks her to stop seating people in her section. her favourite past-time is to seat all the old women obsessed with him at his tables to watch him flounder. also gives leon's number out to people who try and hit on her at the job. she's also the only person who can scare the owner, so jill gets away with a lot more than most people. her and carlos often hang out after shifts to drink beer and play pool. her and claire have regular girls nights where jill's convinced into facemasks and terrible movies that only have a one star rating on whatever pirated movie website claire pays for. (x reader) every attempt you make to ask her on a date goes completely over her head. it's only at chris' intervention that she finally gets the hint and takes you out to dinner. she ends up having her own shelf of stuff at your apartment within a week, and she's more than happy to drive you to work everyday. if you have a pet, prepare for jill to come over to spoil it rotten and feign ignorance when you confront her about it. another victim of the 'takes extra long to get ready on shifts you work together'. she knows you like her arms, so she's wearing short sleeves or tanks whenever she has the opportunity, and silently preens in your attention. carlos, (line cook):
without a doubt, the line cooks are the vibe bringers of the restaurant. carlos always takes a hit off his dab pen before coming in, because he claims it makes his cooking taste better. he always gives food to the female servers at any given opportunity, and pretends to not know what the male servers are talking about when they bring it up. (is the reason for 90% of the memos regarding workplace behaviour).
carlos always smells like old spice and food, and there is almost nothing that could break his good mood during a shift. he really is just happy to be there. he's very particular on how the freezer is organized, but loved to label the items wrong to piss off the others (spinch). his mother taught him how to cook, so he has a dedicated dish named after her. carlos always comps her meals when she comes in and doesn't tell anybody about it.
as for the other employees, carlos torments them. he loves to play his own music in the kitchen but has a wildly inappropriate taste for work music. chris banned him from the speaker officially after only playing doja cat for three hours. however, him and luis love to carpool and play brazilian funk with all the windows rolled down at max volume. those two are not allowed to work together too much. he also has a mobile game rivalry with leon, so anytime carlos is missing from the kitchen, you'll find him in the bathroom on his phone. just follow the shitty iphone game music.
(x reader) in all honesty, carlos is the man that's hooked up with the most employees. the mans charm is undeniable. but he has a particular soft spot when it comes to you-- you get to taste-test every dish, there's always a nice cold glass of water waiting for you, and carlos will take the fall for every fuckup at your table. he'll introduce you to his mom when she comes in, but is secretly terrified at how well the two of you get along. don't even get him started on bringing his siblings into the place, he would never hear the end of it. carlos received another memo after engaging in too much pda at work after the two of you got together.
claire redfield (waitress):
one of the main reasons for all the positive google reviews. it's not that she's naturally a super bubbly person, but claire knows how to turn it on and off when her shift starts. jill puts most of the families in her section since claire has a natural gift with kids. however, she is extremely biased when it comes to the food. her face always tells you exactly what she thinks of a dish.
since chris is always within eyesight of her, whenever difficult customers give her problems, she loves to sic chris on them. even just having him stand behind her is enough to give her leverage over someone trying to haggle on a bill. and with carlos' willingness to give food to pretty girls, she never goes hungry during a shift. the girl has her whole shift figured out on a system. she also knows exactly when the lull in service is going to be so she can take extended bathroom breaks.
out of everyone, she's the one to organize after-work hangouts, whether by putting gentle reminders into the group chat, or straight up bullying people to come (ie. jill). everyone always knows when she pulls up from the sound of her engine, but she refuses to let anyone on it. especially luis or leon, for insurance reasons.
(x reader) this girl has the uncanny ability to know what you need, and when you need it. forgot an iced tea for table 20? it's already in her hand on the way. it's her nice little way of showing what a good girlfriend she would be, that she can anticipate your needs. for every group hangout, you are the first person she texts and the primary benefactor of the tips she makes. claire is a no bullshit kind of woman, and when she wants you, you will know. she'll always ask you to hang out, always compliment how you look, tell you constantly how good you are at your job. maybe she'll let you ride behind her on the motorcycle just for the excuse of having your arms around your waist, and does that hot thing where she rubs your arms with her thumb at red lights.
rebecca chambers (head waitress):
dear old rebecca, truly the glue holding everything together. she's incredibly sweet to customers, and to most of the employees. the only reason the floor runs properly is her by the book attitude and highly perceptive personality. nothing is getting by rebecca. she's leon's number two nemesis for being able to drink on the job, and chris' number one nemesis for smoking outside. this woman has the nose of a bloodhound when someone is about to do something stupid.
despite her appearance, everyone is afraid to make her angry. she's lost her shit a total of one time, but it was enough for everyone to be on their best behaviour. she does have a tendency to make passive aggressive comments with such a sickly sweet smile on her face, that you won't even realize she insulted you until long after she's walked away.
least favourite part of the job? she is a hit with old men. they can never leave her alone. second least favourite part? finding ways to sneak vitamins into certain employees food so they can live to see another day. the way that some of the others operate is enough to give her grey hairs.
(x reader) rebecca is intelligent and ambitious, and more than willing to make sacrifices when it comes to you. she's more than happy to take the fall on a screwup if it gets you out of it, wanting nothing more than your smile in return. her main tactic of getting to know you is inviting you over to watch movies, inconspicuously of course, so she can ask you questions over the whole thing. overall, she's an acts of service girl, but is much more subtle about it than claire is. you need a meal prep plan? she's your woman. she wants nothing more than to take care of you, to make your life as easygoing as possible. but the true way to her heart is any form of baked goods. if you make a habit of bringing her pastries before a shift, she's putty in your hands.
ada wong, (head chef):
this woman, god help her, has the hardest job out of them all. not only does she have to babysit her two line cooks, but she's also responsible for cleaning up all the fuckups the waitstaff make. her saving grace is the fact that everyone else is terrified of her, creating a wide berth every time she picks up a knife. everyone can always hear her scolding carlos in the kitchen, who just brushes it off with a laugh.
despite the chaos of a kitchen, ada has the impeccable ability to never get food on herself. even after the dinner rush there is not a single hair out of place, looking just as perfect as when she started. every ingredient is measured precisely, every fda standard met and upheld-- pretty much the counterforce to carlos and luis. secretly, she loves when carlos has control of the speaker, but she would rather die than admit it.
the second an overcomplicated modification comes in, the temperature of the kitchen immediately drops. why the hell does she pore over a menu just for some middle-aged man to think he knows better than her? despite her no-nonsense attitude, she does secretly love fucking with leon. only luis knows about her secret tinder account that she catfished leon on with some fake woman in romania.
(x reader) ada is a woman in tune with herself, in tune with what and who she wants. the second she gets attached, she will display clear favouritism. every new recipe she tries is given to you for taste-testing, claiming that you will always give her the truth. it's a lie, she just like seeing the grin on your face when you enjoy it. if anyone asks her about it, she will vehemently deny it, claiming that you're the only one competent enough at your job. her asking you out is more of a demand than it is a question: this place, this time, wear that dress you know i like. she's not huge fan of pda at the workplace, but she'll always give you that look that screams, just wait until i get my hands on you later.
luis sera (line cook):
this man does not operate on a recipe, he operates on la pasion. really, it just means the foods always a tad spicier than it should be. he also sings obnoxiously loud in the kitchen, to the point that patrons can hear it if they're seated close enough. this man obeys ada for the most part, but he's honestly never touched a measuring cup in his life. he'll stop pouring when his ancestors tell him to stop pouring. however he has the uncanny ability to know exactly when meat is within three degrees of whatever temp they need it cooked to.
the waitstaff either love him or hate him. luis playfully flirts with everyone in his line of sight. who could blame him? he's stuck in a kitchen all day and everyone at this restaurant is unbearably attractive. mostly, he just likes seeing their reactions. leon adamantly begs claire to fetch his plates from the kitchen for him, because luis calls him prince charming every time, and leon hates it.
there's a rumour going around that he got drunk after a shift and made out with another employee, but no one knows who it is. there's a restaurant-wide betting pool on potential victims. also, since luis is the only person who knows about the catfish incident, he loves to ask leon innocuous question while feigning innocence about the whole thing. he's just really invested in his love life, he swears.
(x reader) if you think the flirting is bad towards leon, just wait until he catches an eyeful of you. it is a nonstop barrage of witty compliments, offers to go dancing (or clubbing), and pick-up lines that were definitely picked up off the internet. he's a suave guy, don't get me wrong, but he most definitely gets too many of his ideas from old romance novels. at some point he gives up, telling you straight that he wants to take you out, for reals, and cook you a nice home-cooked meal. maybe some wine. maybe more, if you'll let him. luis is another person who displays clear favouritism, and tries to convince ada into naming a dish after you. it has a horribly cheesy name, but it tastes wonderful and he loves shooting you a wink every time you see him making it (he always makes that dish more carefully than any of the others).
wesker (manager):
this man bought the damn place in a last ditch attempt to save himself from bankruptcy, and unknowingly entangled himself into the lives of the dumbest twenty year olds he's ever met in his life. the only person that he kind of tolerates is ada, because she runs that kitchen like it's the military, and he can respect how batshit terrifying she is. he has a particular vendetta against chris for reasons he can't name, but since chris brings in a lot of money, he can't really refuse. he mostly gets that frustration out by pinning things on chris that leon most definitely did.
he's rarely seen on the actual floor, usually just hanging in the back on the computer doing whatever the fuck he does. (he's playing farmville, but no one knows it's him because of a pseudonym. he also does not know how to turn the music off so if you stand at the right position outside the door you can hear it.)
when he is seen out on the floor, he's wearing the most obnoxious sunglasses and leather jacket known to man, and stalks around the bar to watch for mistakes. you know you fucked up around wesker when there's a sneer on his face. the place almost got robbed once, and wesker threw a punch so fast that everyone stopped trying to piss him off after that.
(x reader) truthfully, he doesn't act too much different around you. it takes months to catch onto the little quirks that show his softness-- just a slight ease in his eyebrow, a softer pitch when addressing you directly. he'll still chew you out for mistakes, but he forgets about it long before he'll let anyone else slide. if things did eventually progress between the two of you, that manager's office is staying locked.
thank y'all for reading! this ended up being way longer than i thought it was going to be lol.
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alyrasturnz · 1 month
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canv you write something like you did for chris but instead of y/n being a part of a really wealthy fam, its her being the daughter of a pastor and matt is just a bad influence and has a motorcycle and her dad just doesnt like him
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BUT DADDY I LOVE HIM!
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❐ summary » in the heart of an opulent estate, y/n lives a life of privilege as the daughter of a revered pastor. her days are filled with the expectations and responsibilities that come with her family's wealth and reputation. however, her world takes a tumultuous turn when she crosses paths with matt, a rebellious soul with a penchant for danger. despite her father's vehement disapproval and stern warnings, y/n finds herself irresistibly drawn to matt.
❐ pairings » bf!matt x fem!reader
❐ warnings » not meant for everyone! arguing, blasphemy, mentions of religion, sneaking out
❐ a/n && w/c » training today killed me • 2.48k
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your pen glided gracefully across the pristine pages of your notebook, each stroke a delicate dance as you poured your thoughts into your schoolwork.
but then, as the ambient silence enveloped your thoughts, you heard a subtle yet distinct tap on your window, breaking the stillness and drawing your attention away from the page.
you furrowed your eyebrows in curiosity, casting a glance at the clock. 1:15 am. the late hour added a layer of intrigue to the unexpected sound, heightening your sense of wonder and caution.
you averted your gaze to the window, only to find matt standing there, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips, his eyes twinkling with unspoken secrets and a hint of playful defiance.
your eyes immediately widened in surprise, darting towards the door in a fleeting moment of uncertainty before returning to him, where his presence seemed to command your attention and curiosity.
"c'mon... open it, princess," he coaxed, his voice dripping with a blend of challenge and allure. yet, you shook your head, a silent defiance shimmering in your eyes.
your dad was already disapproving enough, his stern gaze and furrowed brows a constant reminder of his unyielding expectations and silent judgments.
“i drove all the way over here," he said, his words laced with a subtle plea, which stirred a pang of guilt within you, making you acutely aware of the effort he had expended.
"c'mon, angel. it's chilly out here," he implored, his eyes a silent symphony of pleading and vulnerability.
you bit your lip, fingers trembling as they clutched the gold cross pendant adorning your neck, its cool metal a stark contrast to the warmth of your skin. the weight of unspoken thoughts pressed down on you, compelling you to rise. 
each step toward the window felt deliberate, as though you were crossing an invisible threshold. the world beyond the glass seemed to beckon, a silent witness to the turmoil within.
you unlatched the window and pushed it open, the cool night air rushing in. "what are you doing here?" you asked, your voice tinged with a mixture of surprise and curiosity, each word carrying the weight of unspoken questions.
"just thought i'd come by and see my favorite angel," matt teased, a playful glint in his eyes. you chuckled, rolling your eyes, and stepped aside, allowing him to climb in. as he did, you closed the window behind him, the sound of the latch clicking into place punctuating the moment.
you cast a nervous glance toward the door, your heart pounding in your chest. "you know my dad doesn’t approve of you being here," you whispered, the weight of forbidden rendezvous hanging heavily in the air.
he chuckled, leaning against the window sill with a casual air that belied the tension of the moment. "yeah, i know. that's part of the fun, don't you think?" he replied, his voice laced with a mischievous undertone.
you shifted uneasily, the weight of the gold cross around your neck growing heavier with each passing second. "i don't want to get in trouble, matt. i don't want my dad to be mad at me," you murmured, the anxiety threading through your voice like a delicate, fraying tapestry.
matt leaned against the wall, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes. "you know, every time i see you, you just get more beautiful," he said, his voice low and teasing, each word dripping with a playful charm that made your heart skip a beat.
you blushed, looking away as the heat rose to your cheeks. "matt, you really shouldn't be here. if my dad finds out..." you trailed off, the unspoken consequences hanging heavily in the air.
he chuckled, stepping closer with a confidence that seemed to defy the tension in the room. "your dad doesn't scare me. but you... you, on the other hand, are a different story," he murmured, his voice laced with a blend of admiration and playful challenge.
you rolled your eyes, trying to hide the smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "you're impossible," you said, your voice tinged with a mix of exasperation and reluctant amusement.
"impossible to resist, maybe," he said, his tone dripping with playful arrogance. "come on, don't you like a little danger?"
you shook your head, but couldn't suppress the grin that spread across your face. "you're such a bad influence," you said, your voice betraying a mix of amusement and reluctant admiration.
"maybe," he replied, his hand brushing lightly against yours. "but you love it. admit it," he continued, his voice a soft murmur that carried both challenge and affection.
he took another step closer, his breath warm against your ear as his arms encircled your waist, pulling you gently into his embrace. "do you ever think about what it would be like if we didn't have to sneak around?"
your heart raced, the proximity muddling your thoughts and making it hard to think clearly. "matt, we can't..."
"can't or won't?" he whispered, his lips almost grazing your skin as he leaned in closer, his breath warm and tantalizing. "there's a difference, you know."
you shivered, the line between right and wrong blurring with every passing second as his presence enveloped you. "this is crazy."
"crazy good," he murmured, his fingers lightly tracing your arm in a delicate dance that sent shivers down your spine. "i can't stop thinking about you, about us."
you stayed silent, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavily in the air. silence enveloped the both of you, a palpable tension filling the space as you looked up at him with unsure eyes. before you could respond, he let out a soft curse under his breath, frustration evident in the tightness of his jaw and the furrow of his brow.
"matt! that's a bad word," you scolded, a mix of shock and amusement dancing in your voice, your eyes widening slightly as you tried to mask a smile.
he laughed, clearly delighted by your reaction. "you know what your dad hates far more than bad words?" he asked, his fingers gently playing with the cross pendant around your neck, the cool metal brushing against your skin.
he paused, letting his hand linger there, feeling the rapid beat of your pulse beneath his fingertips. "if your dad were to walk through the door at this very moment and saw me standing so close to you, he'd be furious." he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. "doesn't that thrill you, angel?"
your heart skipped a beat, a flutter of confusion and excitement mingling within you, but you shook your head, trying to steady your breath. "i don't want my dad to be mad at me," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking louder might break the fragile resolve you were clinging to.
matt's expression softened, though his eyes still held that teasing spark. "your dad would be so upset," he said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "he'd see you as a disappointment. a disappointment for letting a rotten sinner like me into your room." his gaze lingered on you, a mix of mockery and genuine curiosity, as if he were testing the boundaries of your defiance.
you took a step back, feeling the weight of his words pressing down on you like a heavy shroud. "i think you should go," you said, your voice trembling slightly as you tried to maintain your composure. the room seemed to close in around you, every shadow and flicker of light amplifying the tension between you.
for a moment, he looked like he might argue, his eyes narrowing as if considering a retort. but then, with a resigned sigh, he nodded. "alright, angel. i'll see you later," he said, his voice softening as he turned away, the door closing behind him with a quiet finality.
»--•--«
the ensuing dawn unfurled with a haunting familiarity, as if the very threads of time had conspired to weave the same intricate pattern into the ever-unfolding tapestry of your existence, each moment a reflection of the day that had come before.
delicate, barely discernible taps reached your ears, compelling your gaze to drift languidly toward the window. there, suffused in the ethereal glow of the moon, stood matt, a tender smile dancing upon his lips, as if the very night itself conspired to frame this moment in a dreamlike reverie.
your eyes meandered towards the clock, its hands inexorably marking the passage of time with an unyielding certainty. the lateness of the hour was inescapable.
you released a soft, reluctant sigh, rising from your seat with a sense of inexorable inevitability. as you approached the window, you opened it with a gentle, almost reverent motion. "matt... we talked about this," you murmured, your voice scarcely more than a whisper, carried by the night’s quiet breath.
he climbed in with a mischievous grin, effortlessly dismissing your concern. "come on, let's just go around town. it'll be fun, i promise," he urged, his voice brimming with an infectious enthusiasm that seemed almost impossible to resist.
you crossed your arms, a gesture of steadfast resolve. "matt, we can't keep doing this. it's not right," you said, your voice tinged with a mix of frustration and concern.
he stepped closer, his gaze locking onto yours with an alluring blend of charm and determination. "please? just this once more. i promise, it'll be worth it," he implored, his voice weaving a spell that was difficult to break.
you hesitated, the weight of yesterday's conversation still fresh in your mind. yet, the way he looked at you, with that spark of adventure and mischief, began to chip away at your resolve. you sighed once more, feeling your defenses crumble under the pressure of his gaze.
"alright," you finally conceded, your voice barely a whisper, laden with the remnants of internal conflict and reluctant acceptance.
matt's face lit up with triumph, a gleam of victory dancing in his eyes. he stepped even closer, the space between you shrinking to a whisper. his fingers, gentle yet deliberate, brushed against your neck as he carefully unclasped the cross necklace you always wore. 
with an almost reverent touch, he placed it on your desk, the act imbued with a silent promise that this moment, this secret, would remain just between the two of you. the air was thick with unspoken words, and the weight of his gesture hung heavily in the room.
"let's go," he whispered, his voice a soft caress against the silence. taking your hand in his, you both slipped into the night with the stealth of shadows. the world outside your window, shrouded in mystery and moonlight, awaited the adventures that lay ahead, each step a promise of the unknown.
»--•--«
two hours later, you surreptitiously slipped back into your room, the nascent light of dawn beginning to unfurl across the horizon. as you gingerly closed the window, endeavoring to avoid any telltale creaks, a voice emerged from the shadows behind you.
"y/n."
you froze, the chill of realization seeping into your bones. turning slowly, you beheld your father standing there, holding up your cross necklace. his eyes, typically brimming with kindness, now harbored a tempest of disappointment and anger.
"you went out with matt, didn't you?" he accused, his voice a low but resolute murmur. "how could you? you know how i feel about him."
"dad, i—" you began, but he interrupted, his stern gaze silencing your words.
"he's not good for you. he's dragging you down a path you don't belong on. you're better than this, y/n. you're better than him." he exclaimed, his grip tightening around the gold necklace, the metal glinting ominously in the dim light.
your heart pounded in your chest, a tumultuous blend of guilt and defiance coursing through your veins. "you don't understand," you shot back. "matt's not perfect, but he's... he's more than what you think he is."
"he's tainted," your dad insisted, his grip tightening on the necklace, the tension palpable in the air. "and he's tainting you. this isn't who you are."
tears welled up in your eyes, but you resolutely refused to let them fall, holding onto your last vestige of composure. "if all you want is a life painted in shades of gray for me, then it's just white noise. i need color, i need to make my own choices."
"those choices will lead you away from everything you've been taught, everything that keeps you safe," he argued, his voice rising with each word, filling the room with an escalating tension. "matt is not the future you deserve."
"maybe not," you replied, your voice trembling yet imbued with an unwavering resolve. "but it's my future to decide, not yours."
"you are making a grave mistake," he said, his voice laden with an unyielding finality.
"if it's a mistake," you said, standing tall, exuding an air of unshakable determination, "then it's mine to make.”
your father’s eyes narrowed, a tempest of emotions swirling within them. "you don’t understand the gravity of what you’re saying."
"but daddy, i love him!" you cried out, the words cascading from the depths of your heart.
your father's face flushed a deeper crimson, and his voice erupted in a thunderous roar. "love? you think this is love? this boy is a danger to you, to everything we've built! he will ruin you, y/n! do you understand that?"
you stood your ground, tears streaming down your face but your resolve unshaken. "you don't know him like i do! he's not what you think. he's kind, he's caring, and he loves me too."
"kind? caring?" your father spat, his voice dripping with disdain. "a boy who sneaks around in the dead of night, who leads you away from your family, your responsibilities? that is not love, y/n! that is recklessness and folly!"
"why can't you see that i'm not a little girl anymore?" you shouted back, your voice breaking. "i have to make my own choices, my own mistakes. you can't protect me from everything!"
"i can protect you from this!" he bellowed. "i will not stand by and watch you throw your life away for some... some infatuation!"
"it's not an infatuation!" you screamed, your voice echoing through the house. "it's real, and it's mine. why can't you just trust me?"
"because you're blinded by emotions!" he yelled, his voice raw with frustration. "you can't see the danger, the consequences. and i can't just stand by and let you destroy yourself."
you took a deep breath, trying to steady your trembling hands. "then maybe you don't know me as well as you think you do. because i need to live my life, not the one you want for me."
with that, you pivoted and dashed out of your room, your father's yells fading into a distant, muffled echo as you descended the stairs and bolted out of the house.
taglist —  @imwetforyourmom @meatballzerz69 @pinkishpearls @bandanamatt @thedangerousalleyway @muchloveforhacker @frozenpeanutbutterr @jetaimevous @everleiqh @conspiracy-ash @ifwdominicfike @blahbel668 @slutforsturnioloss @realuvrrr @sturnobsessedwh0re @cerismo @zainabthescientist @sarosfilms 
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tosomeonessomeone · 8 months
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soaked.
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words・ 2.5k /pairings・Bang Chan x reader / genres・fluff / warnings・ none
As you strolled down the familiar streets of your hometown, memories flooded back from your childhood. The laughter, the adventures, and the bond you shared with Christopher Bahng, the leader of Stray Kids, seemed like a distant yet cherished echo.
Christopher, or Chris as you fondly called him, had always been your partner in crime. From building makeshift forts in the backyard to dreaming about conquering the world with your talents, your friendship knew no bounds.
Years had passed since Chris left your small town to pursue his dreams in South Korea. The world had known him as a rising star, a beacon of talent and charisma leading Stray Kids to fame and success. But to you, he was still the same old Chris, the boy with endless dreams and an infectious smile.
You were lounging on your couch, scrolling through your phone when a message pops up. 
Chris: Hey, you there?
You: Yeah, what's up?
Chris: I'm back in town for a break. Let's catch up over dinner tonight?
You: Definitely! It's been ages since we hung out. Where do you want to go?
Chris: How about that burger joint we used to love?
You: Sounds good! See you there at 7?
Chris: Perfect! Can't wait to see you!
You grin, excited to see Chris after so long. Memories of your mischievous adventures flood back as you head to the burger joint.
As you arrive, Chris is already there, leaning against the wall, looking as cool as ever.
"Hey, stranger!" you exclaim, approaching him.
He grins, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Hey, you! Long time no see."
You both settle into a booth, exchanging stories and laughing like old times.
"So, how's life as a K-pop star treating you?" you ask, taking a big bite of your burger.
Chris rolls his eyes playfully. "Oh, you know, the usual. Dance practices, fan meetings, and dodging crazy rumors."
You chuckle. "Must be tough being an international heartthrob."
He shrugs. "Eh, someone's gotta do it."
Throughout dinner, you reminisce about your childhood antics, from building forts to pulling pranks on neighbors.
"Remember the time we tried to skateboard down that steep hill and ended up in the bushes?" Chris laughs, shaking his head.
"How could I forget? We were lucky we didn't break any bones," you reply, laughing along.
As the night wears on, you realize how much you've missed Chris's company. Despite his fame, he's still the same goofball you grew up with.
During dinner, in between bites of burgers and sips of soda, Chris leans in and asks about your life.
"So, what have you been up to, besides stalking me on social media?" he teases, a playful glint in his eyes.
You chuckle, taking a sip of your drink before replying, "Oh, you know, the usual grind. Work, family stuff, trying not to embarrass myself too much."
Chris nods, genuinely interested. "How's work treating you?"
You shrug. "It's been busy, but I can't complain. Pays the bills, you know."
He nods sympathetically before his expression brightens with curiosity. "And what about your family? How's everyone doing?"
You smile, glad to share. "They're good, thanks for asking. Mom's still the same old mom, doting on everyone. Dad's busy with his projects, and my sister's off on her own adventures."
Chris nods along, listening intently. Then, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, he leans in a little closer. "So, any special someone in your life? Or are you still single and ready to mingle?"
You roll your eyes, but there's a hint of laughter in your voice. "Oh, you know me, Chris. Still navigating the treacherous waters of singledom."
He laughs, giving you a knowing look. "Well, if you ever need a wingman, you know who to call."
You both share a laugh, the easy banter flowing between you like it always has.
As the conversation continues over dinner, you can't help but inquire about Chris's fellow Stray Kids members.
"So, how are your kids?" you ask, genuinely interested in catching up on his bandmates.
Chris's eyes light up as he talks about each member, sharing anecdotes and updates about their lives and careers. He laughs as he recounts their latest shenanigans during practice and on tour, painting a vivid picture of the bond they share.
"They're all doing great, still causing chaos wherever they go," he chuckles, a fondness evident in his voice.
Then, with a playful smirk, you decide to turn the tables on him. "So, Chris," you begin, raising an eyebrow playfully, "what's the deal with you? Any lucky lady catching your eye these days, or are you still playing the field?"
Chris chuckles, running a hand through his hair before settling back in his seat. "Ah, the eternal question," he quips, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes. "As for my relationship status, let's just say I'm enjoying the single life for now."
You nod, understanding his stance. Being in the spotlight can undoubtedly complicate matters when it comes to romance.
"And what about all that flirting with fans?" you prod, unable to resist teasing him a bit. "Are you just a professional heartthrob, or is there more to it than meets the eye?"
Chris laughs, his grin widening. "Ah, you caught me," he admits, his tone light but genuine. "Flirting with fans is all part of the game, you know. It's about connecting with them, making them feel special. But at the end of the day, it's all in good fun."
You nod, appreciating his honesty. Being a K-pop idol comes with its own set of rules and expectations, after all.
As the night wears on, you continue to chat, trading stories and laughter until the restaurant begins to empty out around you. Despite the fame and the distance that separates you, tonight feels like old times, a reminder of the enduring bond you share with Chris, your childhood friend turned international superstar.
You and Chris make your way back home after dinner, laughter echoing through the streets, you can't help but marvel at the unexpected turn of events. The rain pours down relentlessly, catching you both off guard, but instead of seeking shelter, you find yourselves caught up in the moment, running through the streets like characters in a romance movie.
"This is insane!" you shout over the sound of the rain, unable to contain your laughter as you splash through puddles.
Chris grins, his eyes alight with exhilaration. "I know, right? Who knew we'd end up in the middle of a monsoon?"
You exchange glances, the sheer absurdity of the situation only adding to the sense of adventure. With each step, the rain pelts down harder, soaking you both to the bone, but neither of you cares. In this moment, nothing else matters except the sheer joy of being alive, of feeling the rain on your skin and the thrill of the unexpected.
As you round a corner, a small awning comes into view, offering temporary refuge from the storm. Without hesitation, you both dart beneath it, breathless and exhilarated, the adrenaline coursing through your veins.
"Wow, that was intense," you gasp, trying to catch your breath as you lean against the wall.
Chris nods, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Tell me about it. Remind me to check the weather forecast next time we decide to go out for dinner."
You both burst into laughter, the shared moment bonding you even closer together. And as you stand there, drenched but deliriously happy, you can't help but feel grateful for the simple joys of friendship and spontaneity.
Chris chuckles, his laughter mingling with the sound of raindrops. "Well, you know what they say about spontaneity."
"Yeah, it definitely keeps life interesting," you reply, glancing up at the darkened sky above.
You glance up at Chris, his features illuminated by the soft glow of the streetlights, and for a moment, time seems to stand still. His eyes meet yours, sparking with an intensity you've never seen before, and in that moment, everything else fades away.
Feeling emboldened by the electric energy between you, you reach out and take Chris's hand, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver down your spine. Without a word, you continue running through the empty streets, the raindrops falling around you like a symphony of whispers.
As you round a corner, a small square comes into view, the cobblestones slick with rain. The soft strains of music drift through the air, beckoning you closer. With a smile tugging at the corners of your lips, you stop and turn to face Chris.
"Hey, do you want to dance with me?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
Chris's eyes widen in surprise, his gaze flickering with uncertainty. But then, a slow smile spreads across his face, and he nods, his hand tightening around yours.
"Absolutely," he replies, his voice low and husky.
Together, you step onto the rain-soaked cobblestones, the world around you fading into a blur of colors and sounds. In this moment, there is only the two of you, moving in perfect harmony to the rhythm of the rain.
As you stand there, laughing, dancing, and soaked to the bone, you can feel the weight of his gaze, the unspoken tension hanging between you like a delicate thread. The air crackles with anticipation, charged with a magnetic energy that draws you closer together with every passing moment.
And then, in a bold and unexpected move, Chris reaches out, his hand finding yours with a gentle urgency. The warmth of his touch sends a jolt of electricity coursing through your veins, igniting a fire that burns brighter with each heartbeat.
With a wordless understanding, he draws you closer, his body pressed against yours in a dance as old as time. The rain falls around you, a steady rhythm punctuating the silence as you move together in perfect harmony.
His touch is electric, sending shivers racing down your spine as you lose yourself in the heat of the moment. Time seems to stand still as you surrender to the pull of desire, your heart beating in time with his, as you drown in the depths of his gaze.
In that moment, with the rain falling around you and the world spinning madly on, Chris leans in and kisses you. It's not a fleeting touch or a casual gesture – it's a declaration, a moment of raw and unbridled passion that leaves you breathless and wanting more.
His kiss is electric, sending shockwaves coursing through your body as you surrender to the intensity of the moment. Every brush of his lips against yours sets your heart ablaze, igniting a flame that burns brighter with each passing second.
In that stolen moment beneath the stormy sky, you lose yourself in the intoxicating rush of sensation, your senses overwhelmed by the taste of rain and the feel of his touch. It's a moment suspended in time, a glimpse into a world where passion reigns supreme and love knows no bounds.
As the rain continues to fall around you, you cling to each other, lost in the dizzying whirlwind of emotion. And in that moment, with Chris's lips pressed against yours, you know that you've found something worth holding onto, something worth cherishing for eternity.
You both break from the kiss, a shared breathless moment passing between you as you gaze into each other's eyes. The rain continues to fall, a gentle cadence echoing the pounding of your hearts.
Chris's voice breaks the silence, soft but filled with emotion. "Wow," he breathes, his eyes searching yours as if trying to unravel the depths of your soul.
You smile, feeling a rush of warmth and affection wash over you. "Yeah," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. "Wow indeed."
There's a tangible energy between you, a connection that defies explanation. It's as if the universe itself has conspired to bring you together in this moment, under the cloak of a stormy sky.
Chris reaches out, his hand finding yours with a tenderness that takes your breath away. "I... I didn't plan for any of this," he admits, his voice tinged with vulnerability.
You squeeze his hand gently, reassuring him with a smile. "Me neither," you confess, feeling the weight of the moment settle between you like a comforting embrace.
For a moment, you simply stand there, lost in each other's gaze, the world fading away around you. In this moment, there are no expectations, no uncertainties – only the shared promise of what could be.
And as you stand there, hand in hand, you know that no matter what the future may hold, you'll face it together, bound by the unbreakable bond of love and possibility.
You can't help but let out a nervous laugh, the tension of the moment giving way to a lightheartedness that feels like a balm to your soul.
You shake your head, still incredulous at the whirlwind of emotions that brought you to this moment. "Who would've thought a rainy night and an life update dinner would lead to... this," you say, gesturing between the two of you with a mixture of disbelief and affection.
Chris smiles, his gaze softening as he looks at you. "Sometimes, life has a way of surprising us when we least expect it," he muses, his tone thoughtful.
You nod in agreement, feeling a sense of gratitude wash over you. "Yeah, I guess it does," you reply, your heart filled with a newfound sense of hope and possibility.
As you stand there, sharing a moment of levity in the midst of the storm, you realize that sometimes, the most beautiful connections are forged in the unlikeliest of circumstances.
Chris breaks the moment with a nervous laugh, his cheeks tinted with a rosy hue. "Um, so... I guess I should probably.. you know.. say something here, huh?"
You chuckle, feeling the warmth of his hand in yours. "Go on, Chris. Lay it on me."
He takes a deep breath, his expression earnest yet endearingly shy. "Okay, here goes. I... I've always admired you, you know? From the moment we met as kids, you've been this constant presence in my life. And tonight, being here with you, dancing in the rain... it just feels right."
Your heart swells at his words, touched by the sincerity in his confession. "Chris, that's... that's really sweet," you reply, unable to suppress the smile that tugs at your lips. "I have to admit, I've always had a soft spot for you too."
He blinks, surprise evident in his eyes. "Wait, really?"
You nod, feeling a surge of courage wash over you. "Yeah, really. I mean, who else would I want to dance in the rain with?"
Chris's laughter fills the air, a melody of joy and relief. "Well, in that case, I guess we're both pretty lucky, huh?"
You nod, feeling a sense of lightness settle over you. "Yeah, I'd say we are."
And as the rain continues to fall around you, you both stand there, hand in hand, sharing a moment of laughter and connection that you know will stay with you long after the storm has passed.
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gor3-hound · 7 months
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sunflower
ft. chris redfield x fem!reader
cw: 18+ content, fluff, ddlg, use of princess parts(sorry) oral(f!recieving), mating press, really sweet chris tbh, pacifier usage, non-sexual intimacy also included, hand holding during sex, p in v, creampie, squirting, multiple orgasms(reader)
a/n: more ddlg w chris... he's so perfect for it sorry... same universe as 'sweet girl' but a complete standalone. ddlg always scares me to write sksjsksjs but hope you all like it <3 feedback appreciated as always :3
word count: 1.6k words
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Chris can feel the stress radiating from your body as soon as you walk into the home. He hears you drop the car keys haphazardly on the table. He walks out of his office just as you're hanging your coat up, brows furrowed in frustration with your jaw clenched.
You always got like this after visiting your dad. Chris isn't even allowed to come with you anymore after the last time. He came close to breaking the asshole's nose after he made you cry. He didn't even know why you still put up with him after everything he's done to you, but you always tell Chris ‘family is family’, and he doesn't want to push you.
He'd always be there for you when you got back, anyway. He walks up to you slowly, pulling you into his arms. He can feel the tension in your body, and it makes him frown. He tilts your head up to look at him, his thumb gently rubbing at the crease between your brows until it softens and you're looking up at him with those bright eyes he loves so much.
“There's my baby.” He coos, leaning down to plant kisses all over your face with a smile. He combs his fingers through your hair, carefully untangling a few knots that formed. He finds himself smiling even wider when you finally start to relax in his arms, rubbing your cheek against his chest sweetly.
“Daddy…” You breathe out, hugging him tight. His large hand runs down your back, stopping before rubbing small circles right above your ass. He hums softly, kissing the crown of your head. He knew you needed this when you got like this. Needed him.
“It's okay, baby. Daddy's got you. Let me take care of you, yeah?” He whispers, his breath tickling your hairline as he leans down slightly to be more on your level.
He runs a bath for you, peeling the clothes off of your body slowly. He even puts in your favourite glittery pink bath bomb, despite it being a pain in the ass to clean up. He'd be scrubbing the discolouration off the tub for weeks, and by then, you'd have used it again. An endless cycle, but one he'd endure for as long as he lived if it was for you. He picks you up and sets you in, massaging soap into your body as you sit in the warm water. You melt under his touches, practically purring like a little kitten.
He's careful not to get your hair wet as he washes you, being as gentle as he can. He dries you off with the fluffiest towel in the cabinet and slips you into the comfiest pyjamas you own.  He ends up setting you between his legs in the bedroom with your pacifier in your mouth and hair supplies in his hand, the TV playing Tangled for the fourth time this week. 
It's Wednesday.
He genuinely thinks he might have to get a lobotomy if he hopes to ever get ‘I Have A Dream’ out of his head. He's more than ashamed to admit he's been humming it between sets at the gym. Oh, well. A small price to pay for your happiness.
He cares for your hair as you focus on the movie, detangling any knots gently, just as you’ve taught him to do before. He tries his best to part your hair into two sections, but it ends up being a little messy. At least he learned how to braid. He was quite proud of himself for that one. It only took a dozen YouTube tutorials to figure it out. He carefully twists your hair into two plaits, kissing the nape of your neck once he's done.
“You're so cute, princess.” He coos, his big hands coming to rest on your waist so he can tug you into his lap. He runs his hands under your shirt, gently caressing the skin of your stomach. “I could just eat you up.”
He runs his stubble against your neck, feeling warmth flood his chest as you start to squirm and giggle, teeth clinging onto your pacifier to keep it in place. He laughs softly at the sight, nipping the side of your neck playfully before picking you up, lying you down on your back in the bed. He raises your shirt up, dipping his head down to your stomach.
“Maybe I should. You look so sweet.” He teases, planting kisses all over your soft stomach as you wriggle underneath him. Your paci slips from your mouth as you laugh, your hands coming down to try and push him away by his head. 
“Daddy, you can't eat me!” You say between giggles, kicking your feet out slightly. He doesn't relent, blowing raspberries against your tummy, making you squeal. “You're so silly.”
“Oh, but I can.” He says, grinning against your soft skin. His head trails lower, nudging your clit through the fabric of your pyjama shorts, peeking up at your face as he hears a soft gasp coming from you. “In fact, I thought you liked when daddy did that.”
You don't really get a chance to reply, ‘cause he's grabbing your discarded pacifier and slotting it into your mouth, tapping your hips twice in a gesture that you've come to understand means up.
He slips your shorts and panties off in one motion, his eyes locked onto the sticky string of arousal that connects the gusset of your panties to your pretty cunt as he peels them off. He shudders as he chucks then to the side, his big hands grabbing the fat of your thighs to spread your legs. He dives in, pressing a kiss to the hood of your clit. He chuckles as you whine, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure up your spine.
“You like it when daddy kisses your princess parts, baby?” His tone is sickly sweet as he speaks just before diving in, tonguing into your entrance to gather up the slick pooling there. All you can do is nod dumbly, biting down on the pacifier in your mouth as you moan around it, your noises muffled by the plastic.
He only ever pauses in fucking you with his tongue to shower you with kisses and praise, talking about how pretty you are as he presses his lips against your tummy and the inside of your thighs. He coos at you and squeezes your hips in his hands, making sure to show you how much he loves you.
He laps eagerly at your release when you finally tense up and come, relishing in the sweet taste that coats his tongue, lips and stubble. He just pulls back and grins, wiping it off with the bottom of his shirt before tugging it up entirely.
Your gaze is locked onto him as he strips, the pacifier in your mouth bobbing as you suck on it. You wriggle slightly on the bed, propping yourself up against the plush pillows so you can watch as he prods at you before slowly sinking into you with a groan.
“You okay, sweetheart?” He says through gritted teeth, doing his best to stay still as your tight heat envelops him. “Not too sensitive?”
“M'good, daddy.” You slur around your paci, your brows furrowed slightly from the stretch of his fat cock. Your thighs are shaking slightly, but he trusts you're telling the truth. His little princess knows better than to lie to daddy.
“Good… good girl.” He hums, running a hand up your side, gripping your waist before he starts to move his hips, slowly fucking into you.  He moves his hands to the back of your knees, pulling your ass flush against his thighs before folding you in half, pressing your knees to your chest by leaning his weight down on you, your legs thrown over his shoulders.
“Fuuuuck.” He hisses, kissing the tip of your nose before pressing his forehead against yours, fucking deep into you with every thrust. He gets so deep like this - filling every inch of you up in a way that has you gasping and whining.
Your pacifier slips from your mouth and drops onto the bed again, one of your hands opening and closing in a grabbing motion. “Hand, daddy.”
His hand finds yours, locking your fingers together and giving it a little squeeze. He smiles softly, his thick length rutting into you as he presses you further into the mattress. He grunts as he feels your walls starting to clamp down on him, his breaths coming out in short pants.
“That's it, cutie. Cum for me.”
“Daddy!” You moan, back arching as your orgasm hits. You squirt all over him, bursts of sticky fluid covering his lower abdomen. It drips down his cock and coats his balls, soaking the sheets underneath you.
“Such a messy baby, huh?” He breathes out, his hips stuttering as you flutter around him, his grip on your hand tightening almost painfully. “Your pretty sheets are all ruined.”
He drops his head into the crook of your shoulder, panting as he bottoms out, shooting thick ropes of cum deep into your pussy. He can't bring himself to pull out, so he pulls you against his body and manoeuvres you so you're lying on top of him without ever leaving you.
“There we go. Such a good girl. My precious angel.” He whispers breathlessly, his chest heaving slightly from the intensity of the orgasm. He runs his hand up and down your back, petting you gently.
“I love you, princess.” He murmurs against the shell of your ear, kissing it lightly.
“Love you more, daddy.”
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Text
heart-shaped pancakes
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pairing: chris redfield x reader
cw: dd/lg, age gap, p in v, oral, alcohol, breeding kink, daddy kink
a/n: i'm sorry i couldn't do sweet sex like i did w leon (chris does something to me). anyway, i imagine this as re8 chris, but also maybe a lil bit of di/vendetta chris.
wc: 4.1k
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Chris shouldn’t be as surprised as he is when you broach the subject to him. He’s pushing 50 and you’re barely 21. Daddy issues. Neither of you grew up with present fathers, and maybe that’s what makes you the perfect match. He can be the man his father never was, he can be the man your father never was, Chris can be your daddy. 
You’re tipsy off Ciroc and lemonade - you can order top-shelf liquor since you drink on Chris’dime. Chris tries not to drink too much because he has to supervise you. He practically carries you out of the bar when he decides you’ve had enough. You can pout and cross your arms at him all you want, but he won’t budge. He struggles not to laugh at you because you look silly when you’re being stubborn. Other patrons probably already think he’s your father. 
When you get into the car, he buckles you in while you babble all your complaints. “You’re so strict. I was just having fun.”
“I’m trying to protect you,” he says, hand on the gearshift because he’s taking you home despite your protests. 
“Okay, dad.” You roll your eyes. Chris can hear it, even though his eyes are on the road. “Sorry, I mean, Daddy,” you say, half-laughing because you’re half-joking. Only half. You’re half entirely fucking serious. Chris almost crashes the car on the way out of the parking lot. 
“Think you’re funny, don’t you?” He’s amused, not aroused according to his brain wherein his better judgment lies. His brain’s not the only organ in his body responsible for his decision making. Blame all the bad decisions on his dick. 
“No, I think you like it,” You taunt. He can feel your eyes studying him. You’re oddly perceptive. It almost disturbs him sometimes. “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy,” you say, all sing-songy - thank God it wasn’t karaoke night. “Daddy’s making me go home because I’m his baby girl, and baby girls can’t stay up past bedtime.”
It’s the voice that really gets him. All breathy and light. Sharp inhale, long exhale. Do not play her games. He needs it tattooed on him Memento-style.
“Don’t distract Daddy while he’s driving.” It shuts you up. Neither of you are sure how committed he is to playing the part. His voice is stern - and not quite in the ‘Daddy’s going to spank you’ way. He’s being serious. Either way, you’ve written the word ‘Daddy’ in every corner of his mind in bold Sharpie lettering. He can’t get away from it. 
Chris deposits the car keys on the counter and flops down onto the couch with a sigh. You stand there, waiting, looking lost in your own home. Chris raises his eyebrows at you and pats his lap. “Come here,” he says, looking smug now that he’s gained the upper hand. 
You scurry across the room and sit in his lap awkwardly like you’re taking a picture with Santa Claus and telling him what you want. 
“Do you think we need to have a talk about what you said back there in the car?”
You try to squirm away, but he has a firm grip on your hips. His voice in your ear is still mocking, but his lips are sweet from your cherry-flavored chapstick. From when? Memories blend together when you're lost in the smell of his cologne.
“I was just trying to provoke you.”
“Provoke me to do what?” Yeah, exactly. You’re caught, sweet cheeks. “Did you accidentally reveal a little secret about yourself?” His face is nuzzled into your neck now and he places a kiss to the nape. It’s so unfair, he already has you in his grasp, now all he needs is a confession. 
“And what if I did? Would you be mad at me?” You want so badly to be a tease - you already look the part, wearing a skirt that's dangerously short - but your shyness makes you sound defensive.
“Mad at you? For what?” Your pink cheeks melt his stoic facade so easily.
“I don’t know.” You look down at your hands, you’re fidgeting. “It’s weird, right? I mean, I feel weird that I wanna call you ‘Daddy’.”
“It’s a little weird-”
“See? I knew you wouldn’t like it.”
“-but it’s not weirder than anything else you do.”
“Huh?”
“You've got a bed filled with... those whatever you call ‘em… marshmallows?”
“Squishmallows,” you correct him. 
“Thank you. Your squishmallows hog the bed until you wanna have sex, and then they can’t be there because ‘you don’t want them to see anything inappropriate’.”
“Baby Yoda’s too young to see things like that.”
“Baby Yoda’s not real, honey.”
You frown. 
“I’m sorry. He’s real, you’re right,” he concedes when he hears a sniffle come from you. 
“You can apologize to him, not me.”
“Remind me when we go to bed, okay?”
You turn yourself sideways in his lap, so you can snuggle up to him. “So you wanna be my daddy?” You’re quick to adopt your role. He tries to think of a way to tell you he’s not sure, he’ll think about it, but his cock twitches and the decision is made. “I think I already am your daddy, baby girl.”
“Mm yeah,” you mumble and nod. With your head pressed into him like this, you’re rubbing your cheek against his chest like a cat does with its owner - affectionate and adorable, though you end up leaving glittery eyeshadow on his good shirt. “Can we go to sleep?” 
“Yep. It’s way past your bedtime.” A bedtime which has yet to be set. 
You wrap your arms around his neck, knowing he’s going to pick you up and carry you. 
When you’re drunk, Chris usually has to help you put your pajamas on. This isn’t anything new. It’s new when he has to help you into your clothes the next morning, when you’re sober. Tonight, your tank top and shorts are a soft cotton, covered in pink flowers. You fall asleep only after your face has been scrubbed of makeup - Daddy's orders.
You make a face when the damp towelette touches your skin. 
“I know you don’t like it, but you’re gonna be mad if you get makeup all over your pillowcase,” Chris reminds you. (You suck it up for the sake of the pillowcase.)
Before transporting you to bed, he pinches your freshly-washed cheeks. Your skin is soft and the apples of your cheeks are round when you smile.  “You’re so cute,” he says. The truest words he's ever spoken.
“Love you, Daddy,” you mumble as you fall asleep. It’s so sincere and delicate, it sounds adorable when you say it. He could get used to hearing it.  
It’s a good thing Chris is used to lack of sleep because you toss and turn, moving him around like he’s a ragdoll. You push him onto his back and splay yourself across him like a dead starfish, then you turn onto your side so you can hug one of your squishmallows that’s half the size of your body, and you grab Chris’ arm, pulling him with you, so he can be the big spoon. 
You’re a heavy sleeper until he tries to move. If he flips over, so do you. You’re stuck to him, like a sea urchin. He told you that once and you cried. “No, I didn’t mean it like that, baby. You’d be a cute little sea urchin,” he said. 
You wake up bright and early without a hangover. At Chris’ age, you always wake up feeling kind of hungover - achy body, foggy brain, a vague sense of regret. It’s Saturday, which means that Chris is supposed to be able to sleep in for a couple extra hours. His alarm goes off in the form of your mouth on his dick. 
He sits halfway up, balancing himself on his elbows and sees your head peeking out from under the covers. You lock eyes with him, and he squints like he’s trying to read small print. 
“Good morning, Daddy,” you chime. Oh yeah, guess that whole ‘Daddy’ thing wasn’t a dream. 
“Daddy’s trying to sleep,” he says in between yawns. 
“I wanna play,” you say. Your pink lips are dripping with your own drool which you haven’t bothered to wipe off. Does Daddy have to buy you a bib? 
“Have at it,” he says and pats your cheek, giving you the tiniest smile before lying back down. 
For a little girl, you really know how to suck cock, he thinks. You take him as far as you can down your throat. You almost choke. Chris’ eyes open again to see tears in your waterline. 
“C’mere” he says, hoisting you up, so that you’re lying on his chest. He wipes the tears from your eyes before they can fall. 
“Was it not good enough?” His heart breaks hearing your faltering tone. 
“No, no, you were doing so well, baby, but you’re gonna hurt yourself if you keep doing it like that.”
Daddy knows best. He never wants to impose rules on you, he can’t be strict with you. He doesn’t control your screen time or force you to eat dinner before dessert. Despite your feisty attitude and tendency to be naughty, you’re a good girl. Though, maybe he does need to limit your daily intake of dick since you continue to push the limits of your windpipe. 
“Kisses?” You look like you’re going to cry if he denies you - not that he would ever do such a thing. 
“Always,” he says before giving you a soft kiss on the lips. It doesn’t take long for an innocent kiss to turn into a full-blown make out session. 
The growl of your stomach interrupts the moment. 
“Are you hungry?”
“No,” you lie.
“It’s not nice to lie to Daddy.”
Too bad sucking cock is a reward not a punishment. You get a lot of rewards.
“Get up,” he says, giving you a light slap on the ass.
Your smile dares him to do it again. When he does, it only encourages your bad behavior.
He convinces you to get out of bed with the promise of pancakes. You sit at the kitchen counter, kicking your feet, waiting impatiently. 
“Can you make them into shapes, Daddy?”
“A circle is a shape, honey.”
“I want heart-shaped pancakes.”
He sighs, ignoring your complaints. “Syrup?”
“Yeah,” you say, a little bit disappointed at the fact that your pancakes will not have an extravagant presentation. Your frown is quick to disappear when your pancakes arrive. They’re on a frog-shaped plate. The two pockets at the top (the eyes of the frog) hold syrup and blueberries. 
“Can you cut them up?” You hold out your fork and knife. Oh, he forgot, babies can’t have knives. 
Chris walks over silently and does as you ask. He feels more like a butler than a Daddy. 
“Thank you. I love you, Daddy,” you say as he turns to walk away. 
It takes very little to make him smile - at least, when it comes to you. “Love you, too, cutie,” he says. He gives you a peck on the lips and an extra kiss on the forehead, for good luck.
Chris likes being your Daddy, and you catch on fast. 
Daddy. The word becomes a weapon. 
Chris tries not to let you see how much it affects him when you say it, especially in public. You got an earful for saying it within earshot of the cashier once. He already looks old enough to be your father, and he really doesn’t want anyone thinking that’s the case, especially when you’re so handsy - you’ve gotten in trouble for that too. You cannot grope Daddy in a crowded park in broad daylight. 
You’re in line at the pharmacy, getting the essentials: condoms, nicotine gum, and apparently, a giant bag of starbursts. 
“Mm-mm.” Chris shakes his head. 
You pout and thrust the bag at him. 
“I’ve already put on weight. I’m too old to eat all that candy.” It's not like anyone's forcing him to eat it, but he knows himself by now - he will eat the entire bag.
“But, Daddy, please,” you whine and look up at him with your big dewy eyes.
And that’s it. That’s all you have to say. The last time you said that you were begging to blow him. It’s all he can see now. The blood rushes downwards and he knows arguing with you is pointless. He snatches the bag from you and buys it without another word.
You reach for the plastic shopping bag so you can have a snack on the drive home, but Chris puts them out of your reach.
“Bad girls don’t get candy,” he says. 
“I’m sorry, Daddy.” Bullshit. 
“You’re lucky it’s day time because I’d park the car on the side of the road and tell you to prove to me how sorry you are.”
You perk up at that, it seems like you’d like getting on your knees in public. Better take back that threat. 
He lets you off the hook because you have him wrapped around your finger. He’s ‘Daddy’ in name only, you wear the pants in the relationship. 
The protector role he takes on as Daddy comes naturally. He’s lost almost everyone he’s ever loved. The fact that you like him watching over you and keeping you safe makes his life easier. It makes him less paranoid. Now he only has to worry about all of his other loved ones. He makes Claire text him once a day to let him know she’s alive. The one time she forgot - had a very fun night out with her own man - he almost had a heart attack. Jill negotiated her contract down to once a week minimum. 
You effortlessly play the part of baby girl. You were already cute, the only difference is you pretend to be innocent now - you’re awful at acting, but it makes you even cuter when you try. Your favorite activities are coloring, watching cartoons, and taking dick. You’re allowed to watch one episode of whatever show you want before bed on weeknights. Daddy is only strict about bedtime because Chris is exhausted. He nods off while you’re sitting in his lap unless you’re constantly chatting or trying to get in his pants. 
“Daddy, you’re not paying attention,” you say, tugging at his sleeve. 
“We’ve already seen this episode. I don’t need to pay attention.”
“You fell asleep last time. That’s why we’re watching it again.”
He tries desperately to keep his eyes open. The fact that you constantly “readjust your sitting position” and your ass - which peeks out of your pajama shorts - rubs against his dick. You have to keep him hard to keep him awake. 
But, Daddy needs a cat nap on the couch so he can prepare for what becomes the typical bedtime routine: a story. 
“Tell me a story.”
“About what?”
“You.”
“You already know everything about me.”
“Nuh-uh. What about a long time ago? Before I knew you.”
“When? I’ve been alive a long time.”
“When you were my age. What were you like?”
That was over 20 years ago. You were born 21 years ago. He feels ancient when he thinks about it like that. He sighs. “Do you want to hear about my time in S.T.A.R.S. or the Air Force?”
“Both of those sound kind of boring.”
“You asked for a story about me, not an interesting story.”
“What about any escapades? Tell me a story about a rendezvous from the olden days?” 
Whoa there, Baby Einstein, you’ve got quite the vocabulary for a little lady like yourself. Chris considers pulling up a dictionary on his phone and reading you that since you wanna be a smart girl it seems. Maybe he can recite the preamble to the Constitution, that’ll put you to sleep.
“The olden days?” He’s almost offended at your remark, “I’m not that old.” There’s a pause. “Fine. I’m old and I need a minute to come up with something.” Oh God, his memory might be going. Daddy’s early onset dementia is showing.
You wait patiently.
“When I was around your age,” Jesus Christ. He sounds like a father. “I had more than a few hook ups in the back of a cop car.”
“As a cop or a criminal?”
“A cop, dumbass.”
“Did you fuck criminals?”
“Not that I know of. I wasn’t one of those corrupt cops.”
“Yeah, you were! You were having sex on duty.”
“Yeah? I’ll remind you of that the next time you call me at work, begging me to come home and fuck you.”
“Fuck is a bad word.”
“Then why’d you say it?”
“You said it first.”
“What do you want me to call it? Intercourse? Making love? ‘Getting it on’?”
“Practicing making a baby,” you suggest.
“Oh? Is that right? You wanna make a baby?”
Bedtime has been thrown out the window. Chris has you pinned - literally, caged in by his body. He forces you to meet his eyes.He doesn’t give you a chance to run from the implication. Tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you. 
“What if we just pretend? For practice," you say.
“Sure, practice.” He’s all sardonic about it, but he’s dying to put his dick in you. “Swear you’ve been taking those pills?”
“Pinky swear. Girl Scouts honor.”
It’s rare that you’re able to break his composure, but he has to stifle a laugh. You’re quick to make the transition from being shy to impatient, squirming when you don’t get what you want. Chris moves his hands from your wrists to interlock his fingers with yours. 
“Can you be a good girl?” He asks.
“Yes, Daddy” you say, but your coy grin and shifty eyes betray you. Obedience is boring. You’ll push the envelope until you get fucked face down into the mattress. 
Chris scoffs and rolls his eyes - you’re a liar, and he’ll still fulfill every wish of yours. You moan into his mouth when he kisses you and lift your hips, trying to get any friction. Being greedy only gets you further from your goal. 
He takes off your top and leaves your shorts on. When you pout, he mimics your expression and starts sucking on your tits until the pouty lips are parted and your eyes are screwed shut - he teases you until he’s too hard to think straight. 
Maybe you don’t wear the pants in the relationship. At least, not for long. He yanks your shorts down like a warning for how rough he’s willing to be with you. And you love it. Daddy’s little girl can take dick like a champ. You don’t need practice ‘making a baby’. 
You’re wet. No, that’s an understatement - you’re soaked. It’s okay, though, because Chris planned on ruining your panties anyway. He’ll feel less guilty, knowing that you made a mess of them first. He pulls the fabric to the side and pumps two fingers in and out. You moan and he retracts them. 
“You’re so mean,” you whine. 
“You’ve been naughty for the past week, and I’m still rewarding you. I’m not mean.”
You scowl, and he leans in and whispers in your ear, “And, I know you like it.”
You can’t argue with that. 
You’re practically salivating watching him get undressed. The way he pulls his shirt over his head is one thing, but the sound of his belt buckle, the button pop, the zipper pulled down, you could get off on that alone. 
Chris’ underwear comes off and your fingers travel to the hem of yours in response. He gently takes your hands away. “Nope.”
At first, you think he’s going to tease you. Maybe he won’t even fuck you tonight. Maybe it’s a punishment disguised as a reward. No, you realize, he’s going to fuck you with your panties still on. He drags the tip of his dick along your folds and you moan pathetically. It’s cute, really. 
As wet as you are, it takes you a moment to adjust to the size of him. You grab hold of your flannel sheets - (your favorite ones, with snowmen on them despite the fact that winter is long gone) - bracing yourself for the stretch. “Being loose” is definitely a myth because you’re tight every time. Your lip quivers, but your pussy flutters.
You are being good. Until you get greedy. Daddy fucks you slow and deep, the way he likes. You’re needy, still young enough to want a quickie, especially when you’ve got multiple rounds in you. It’s easy when you’re not the one doing most of the work. 
“More, Daddy,” you whine. You get what you want - sort of, it’s always ‘more, more, more’ until it’s ‘too much, Daddy’. 
“Shh… thought you were gonna be a good girl for Daddy. You’re gonna get us in trouble again.”
“I promise I’ll be good.”
“I don’t believe you. Remember how loud you were last time?”
“I won’t do it again.”
“Oh really?”
You nod, pouting. 
He sighs. He can’t even punish you because you get off on that, too. 
“I’ll make a deal with you,” he says, halting his thrusts. You try to force him to keep going with your legs around his hips. “Ah-ah,” he chides you, “pay attention.”
Reluctantly, you do as he says. 
“If you can’t behave, I’ll pull out.” That's the only thing he can threaten you with.
You’ve forced his hand. “No…” you say meekly.
“Yes, and you know what,” he says, moving your legs so that you no longer have a grip on his hips, “I’m gonna give you more, but you’re gonna flip over for me.”
He pulls out and for once you obey, flipping yourself onto your stomach. You point to the pillow you want. He grabs it and slides it under your hips. He lifts your hips and slides his cock inside you. You feel the intense pressure of being stretched out and you whimper into the pillow. 
“Aw, baby can’t take it? Thought you wanted this?” Chris doesn’t slow the pace of his thrusts. 
You shake your head, and he swears he can hear a muffled “I can, I can”, but your voice gets lost in the sounds of skin slapping against skin. Regardless of your sobs, you don’t use your safe word. 
“What is it, baby?” He leans down and whispers into your ear with mock-sympathy, “Crying ‘cause you like when Daddy fucks you like this?”
“Uh-huh,” you moan as you clutch the pillow under your head. You’re getting wetter by the second, your walls clench as you struggle against the pleasure. “Daddy,” you cry, lifting your head a bit to make sure he can hear you. 
“Gonna cum? I know you can. Just let go, I’ve got you.” His tone is gentle, despite the frantic pace of his hips, pounding into yours. You’re holding back on purpose, waiting for a promise. 
“Daddy’s gonna put a baby in you. That’s what you wanna hear? ‘Cause it’s true. Gonna cum inside you, gonna get you pregnant.”
You gush around him. That sent you over the edge. His words were for your pleasure. Or so he thought. 
But you’re coming down from your high and he can’t help but tell you about how he needs to get you knocked up. His thrusts get erratic and his grip on your hips tightens. He cums deep inside of you. A reward for your good behavior. Yeah, sure.
Chris’ real reward comes the next morning when he impresses you with his culinary skills. 
Chris eventually learns how to shape your pancakes into hearts. He swears he can do more with a spatula now than with a gun. He deposits your plate - this one is shaped like a pig - in front of you, and you look at him like he’s performed a miracle. 
“Daddy,” you say, “you did it.”
You hop down and run to the bedroom. “Be right back,” you holler as you fly by him. 
You’re on a mission. You have amassed a large collection of stickers. You insist on decorating everything down to the knobs on the kitchen cabinets with glittery rainbows and Care Bears. When you return, you stick a gold star to Chris’ chest, patting it down to make sure it stays. 
“Good job, Daddy!”
It should feel stupid, maybe patronizing, but you’re strict about your stickers - where they go, who can have one, which ones can and can’t be touched. When he receives your approval in the form of a star-shaped sticker, it makes him melt. It also makes him a little bit hard. Or maybe it’s the way your lips redden as you eat strawberries and the way you wipe off excess juice that falls from your mouth and lick it from your fingertips. 
“What do you wanna do this morning?” He asks, leaning his elbow on the counter casually, pretending not to have an end goal. 
“I wanna play with Daddy,” you say with a smile. 
He's unsure what your angle is - until you wink and run towards the bedroom. It’s his turn for breakfast. Pussy is on the menu. 
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kaciidubs · 1 year
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Hiii i’m new here so let me guide you through my chan brain rot so you can decide if this request is worth it or not☝️🤓
Ok so i’ve been thinking about bff Chan picking up fem swimmer!reader from late night practice and getting there a bit early so she’s still in the pool. He gets horny seeing her legs (i’m a simp for swimmers’ legs IM SO SOREY) and soaking wet and they fuck in the dressing room (just bc i think pool sex is too messy but this part is wtv for me).
Honestly i just think Chan is such a but/legs guy, i imagine him going insane between them and fucking the mc so hard to fulfill his horny and sentimental needs towards her.
- 🎃 (pumpkin anon if i may??)
Swim Practice
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Oh lovely, I've got Chan brain rot 24/7 so let's get into it!!! And of course you can be pumpkin nonie! Sorry it took me so long! 💕
❣ Summary: Chris, your best friend who picks you up after late night swim practices. Chris, your best friend who might just have a thing for your legs. ❣  ❣ Word Count: 1.2k ❣ Warnings: Smut, fluff, slight humor, unprotected sex, slight public sex [locker room], slight leg kink [Chris], Reader knows how to swim, Reader is also kinda sassy, Chris being a slightly annoying best friend [lovingly] ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: Chan is referred to as Chanstopher, Channie, and Chris, Reader is referred to as Littlest Mermaid and Baby, Chris' dad is mentioned once ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist
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Littlest Mermaid 🪸: Channie! You’re still free to pick me up after practice, yeah? Chanstopher🐺: Yeah, I’ve got you Chanstopher🐺: What time do you get out again? Littlest Mermaid 🪸: I’ve got the place booked till 10 Chanstopher🐺: Late practice again? Littlest Mermaid 🪸: Mhm- Mr. Bahng told me I could since all the little kiddos are in their summer lessons Littlest Mermaid 🪸: I owe you big time I swear!! Chanstopher🐺: Yeah yeah, I’ll see you later!
Chris checked the text chat one last time as he pulled open the door to the community center, checking the time at the top of the screen - 9:34 PM, sure he was a bit early, but there was no way you were actually using the whole reservation time.
You and Chris had been best friends since he accidentally pushed you into the pool during your beginner swim lessons, and when he tried to help you out, you’d used all your 9-year-old strength to pull him in instead - from then on, you both have been attached to the hip. Where he was taking swimming lessons to compete in the local swim meets, you were taking swimming lessons because it was either that or gymnastics, according to your parents.
Still, despite your differing reasons for being in the swim classes - proudly led by his parents - you two managed to turn an unfortunate meeting into a friendship that would stand the test of time; from supporting him in his swim meets to supporting him in award shows, you remained a constant in his life.
Of course, he did his best to reciprocate the same support through sending you a wall of text when he learned you’d be taking up swim meets casually in your own division, and staying up late to watch the recordings of said swim meets that his mom and sister sent on your behalf. 
It was only when he went home one time two years ago that the tradition of him picking you up from late practices began; one surprise pop-up turning into him being your designated ride for as long as he was in Australia.
Walking down the all-too-familiar halls, the smell of chlorine slowly seeped into the air before he reached the double doors of the pool room, various warnings and rule lists plastered across the front. He pushed through the doors, the sound of splashing water proving him wrong as he spotted your form floating in the shallow end - eyes closed and limbs splayed out like a starfish, most likely relaxing after a few laps.
Smirking to himself, Chris snuck toward the edge of the pool you were closest to before bending down, putting his hand in the slightly cold water, and splashing water in your direction - laughing as you slipped back into wading.
“What the actual-?!” Wiping your face free of the droplets - ironically making your face even wetter in the process - your fiery glare landed on a familiar face, “Christopher! What the hell was that for?!”
“You looked too peaceful,” he taunted, tongue peaking out of the side of his mouth before a cheeky grin brightened his features.
You rolled your eyes, dipping your hand in the water before flicking some water back in his direction, “Oh whatever - what’re you doing in here anyways? You usually wait outside.”
He shrugged, “I didn’t think you’d still be in the pool - figured I’d just come in and wait this time, haven’t been inside since last year, you know?”
Puffing your cheeks, you waded your way over to the edge before resting your arms on the tiles, “I guess.. Give me one final lap then we can head out, okay?”
“Knock yourself out - we’re still on for Hungry Jacks after, yeah?”
“Of course! There’s no way I’d pass up food after a practice - or food in general.”
With that, he watched as you shuffled your way through the deep end before swimming toward the other half of the pool where they kept laned off for swim meets.
He had to admit, part of him missed competing and the rush of adrenaline when the buzzer went off and all he had to think about was ‘go’, but watching you set up for a lap made that bitterness just a bit sweeter - knowing that you were able to grow from a kid who claimed swimming like a frog was the best form, to earning a few medals in the breaststroke and butterfly stroke category.
The sound of splashing broke him from his reverie, his eyes locking onto your form as you broke into a breaststroke - simple, effective, a good choice to leave off with after hours of practicing with almost perfect technique.
By the time you had turned to finish out your lap, he was already walking toward the pool chair that had your towel draped over your bag, snatching the cloth in preparation for your grand exit.
Oh, how grand it was.
What he wouldn’t give to be the beads of water dripping down the curve of your hips and thighs, skin glistening under the fluorescent lights of the pool room as you pulled yourself out of the pool with hard-earned strength.
Now that you were up close, he could finally notice how your bathing suit was snugly hugging your shape, each bead of water acting like glitter to catch his eye effortlessly - well, almost effortlessly, as he thrusted the towel in your direction without a moment’s notice.
“Uh- Here!”
You took the towel gratefully, shooting him an earnest smile as you took the time to wipe down your arms and chest, “Thanks - just give me a second to rinse off and change, then we can head out.”
Chris meant to answer you, truly he did, but all thoughts of a reply fizzled out into nothing as his eyes began the exciting trail down your body once more - god, he never noticed how wonderfully shaped you were until now, especially your legs.
Curvy, sculpted, from your thighs to your calves, he could only imagine how strong they were - how they’d feel wrapped around his head.
He was a simple man, if he found someone attractive, it was because of a multitude of things, but those legs - your legs, were making him feel like he was a teenager going through puberty again.
“Channie?”
His eyes snapped up to yours, immediately clocking the sparkle of humor mixing with something unfamiliar - it made his stomach flip.
“I could use some help getting out of my bathing suit, if you don’t mind?”
Of course, as a great best friend, who was he to deny you help when you asked?
He could only assume that he was an even greater best friend from the way you were quivering underneath him, your hands holding onto the edge of the towel-covered bench for stability as he fucked you into next week.
“Fuck, look at you,” he groaned, one hand keeping your right leg pressed against his chest while the other gripped your hip, bathing suit laid in a wet heap somewhere along with his sweats and underwear. “You’ve got no clue how many times I’ve dreamt of this.”
Your cunt clenched around him, a shuddering moan falling from your lips as you nodded, “S-Same- fuck, wanted you so bad, Chris- E-Every time you visit.”
“You-” An incredulous scoff escaped him, lips pulling into a cocky smirk, “You waited until now to make a move? Baby, I could’ve been fucking this sweet pussy ages ago?”
You wanted to reply, maybe offer him an apology of some sorts, but his thrusts didn’t let up and the sight of him ducking his head down to press a fleeting kiss to your ankle made your brain evaporate.“It’s fine - we can make up for lost time, yeah?” Dropping his hand to the back of your knee, he pushed your leg up to your torso, mirroring the act with his other hand and your other leg, “After here, after Hungry Jacks, I’m spending the rest of the night with you, between these gorgeous legs of yours.”
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