Extreme Fluff - Tumblr Posts

Warnings: •heavy angst •fluff at the end🥰

Summary: you and Kento are going through the trials of pregnancy. (Or: you have a fight but you work it out)

*you= pink/ Kento= orange*

He had been ignoring you all evening in favor of reading his book.

You were sitting opposite of him across the couch, pouting as once again the man choose to pay no mind to your words.

“So overall, I think I have everything for the registry. Venue is rented out and everything…. I just need a little help with the-“

He slams his book closed, glaring at you over his reading glasses.

“And what in the hell do you want me to do with that information?” You startle at his sudden movement, looking at him with those eyes. “Huh?” He scoffs, taking his glasses off.

“Why are you telling me this?” The irritation was obvious in his voice, and the way his brows furrowed in annoyance.

“Just thought you should know.”

He squints, trying to find if you’re purposely messing with him or actually oblivious. In the end he finds it’s both. Can’t a man read in peace?

“I have other things to do right now. I don’t have time to listen to you ramble on and on about shopping list.” You go quiet, fidgeting with your hands. Why is it always a problem when you mention anything having to do with the baby? It’s the least he could do, since he is the father and all. “Sorry..”

He scoffs again, rolling his eyes as he goes back to reading his book.

After a to long silence, you get up and go to your shared room. You had some papers that needed to be graded, but how hard could that be? They were first graders.

You rub your belly as you do so, your eyes feeling heavy and your feet swollen. After finishing your your work you open your lap top and take a look at some houses. You wanted your child to have a home to grow up into, not some run down apartment on the bad side of town.

Just then your fiancé walks in, groaning as he settles in bed beside you. He stares at the laptop, the page your opened to, and then you.

“What are you doing?” You bite your lip nervously.

“Looking for houses.” He’s tempted to roll his eyes. Taking the laptop and settling it on his lap. “I know that. Why are you looking for houses?”

You can’t really believe your having this conversation with your soon to be husband. Again.

“Kento, you know why. I’m not staying in this apartment forever. We’re getting married and having a baby.”

He rolls his eyes again. “This house is just fine for the baby.”

Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes.

“I am not having my child grow up in this tiny ass apartment. It’s not close to any schools, and the neighborhood we’re living in is just not-”

“The kids not going to school as soon as he’s out of the womb.”

You glare at the man. Hes so stupid sometimes you could scream. Obviously not. But it’s good to prepare.

“I give birth in a few months, we need this house to be ready. We can get situated and things.” Your fiancé did not like that answer, sighing at you dramatically.

“You already got me dealing with you and the damn baby, now you want to move?” If looks could kill both of you would be dead. The fucking audacity?? You turn to him to tell him off, but he olds his hand up. How dare he?

“We don’t need a house right now. We can handle that when the time comes.”

You stay silent, snatching your laptop back. After placing it on the nightstand you roll over and cover yourself with the blanket.

You’ve done none of your usual nighttime routine, but these days you’re so tired, and dealing with your husband and work on top of that just adds to the stress. You two are always butting heads, never agreeing on one thing. Just when you think both of you have finally settled down, he keeps talking.

“You’re always nagging at me. Always have some shit to say.”

“You don’t have to get worked up over little things and yet you do, complaining and complaining and complaining all god damn day.”

You sit up angrily, glaring and prepared to fight.

“I’m carrying your six pound baby in my stomach while getting hell from everything and everyone. You have a problem, your mom has a problem. Every damn person you know has a mother fucking problem!” He rolls his eyes, which only gets you angrier.

“And I’m so sorry my hormones inconvenienced your day. I’m so sorry that I’m such a pain in the ass all the time. But I can’t help it at the time and I’m trying my hardest to not let them influence my decision.”

Kento takes a deep breath, mumbling something to himself.

You get out of bed, intending to stomp away in disbelief. You don’t make it past the bed room door though before your clutching your stomach.

You close your eyes and try to take even breathes.

The action immediately alerts your fiancé, coming to rush at your side to see if you’re ok.

You try to push him off, your stubborn ass convinced you can do this all on your own. Only for you to clutch him close when another wave of pain rolls over you.

“Sit down.” He orders. But his voice is more soft, easing you back onto the bed.

You comply reluctantly.

“Lay back.” Again you listen, glaring daggers at the man.

He takes your legs and gently starts to massage your feet, touch so soft you two wouldn’t have known you were in the middle of an argument. Both of you are quite.

You can’t look him in the eyes, tears starting to well up.

“We just want what’s best for you.” He whisper, kissing your shin. You laugh, tone devoid of humor.

“It doesn’t feel like it. Everything I do I’m doing wrong. I can’t mother right, I can’t wife right. I can’t do anything right-”

“Your doing just-”

“Not according to your family.”

He sighs and lets go of your leg in irritation. “They don’t fucking hate you ok? They’re doing what they think is best, and what they think is best is-”

“Calling me fat? Insulting my family? Telling me your to good to call yourself my husband? What help that is.” He doesn’t say anything about that. He knows you’re right. Instead he continues to massage up and down your leg, your feet, and lower body part to help ease the pain.

“Better?” He ask, looking up at you through his lashes. You scowl.

“A little.”

He nods, still holding your legs. “Good.”

He studies you. Your tired eyes, your sunken in features. You haven’t eaten like you’re supposed to and he hates that. He hates that his family has such a negative affect on you. And he hates that he just stands there.

“Look at me.” He mutters. Your eyes trail to his, what pretty eyes. His pretty girl going through all this stress. His face softens.

“I know you like to prepare ahead of time. And I know you want to get things done as soon as possible. But you need to take things slow. I need you to take things slow.” He watches as the anger leaves your features.

He takes a chance and crawls above you, placing a kiss on your forehead.

You instantly melt, shoulders relaxing and sighing. He lays besides you, cupping your swollen belly and planting a kiss there as well.

“I care and love you my love, and I wants what’s best for you. So right now we need to focus on what matters.”

Your hands run though his hair, and he lays his head gently on top your belly.

“And what matters?” Your voice is so soothing, he could fall asleep just like this. It’s been so long since he’s felt your touch, to busy with work to come home and spend proper time with you. He sighs. “You. Right now it’s you.” He lifts his his head just in time to see you smiling.

And what a smile you have. He’s falling for you all over again.

“And after we make sure you’re ok, we can focus on us. And the wedding, and that baby shower you want. We can focus on all that after.”

“And I’ll make sure to speak with my mother about her behavior…”

You both sit in silence, buts it’s comfortable this time. You bask in each other, and you both are fucking happy. He coos at your stomach, which makes you giggle, he’ll be such a good husband, and an even better father. He dotes on you, and you do the same.

After a while you begin to get sleepy. “My love.” He murmurs, poking your cheek. He wants to talk to you more. You grunt.

“You don’t talk about yourself all that much.” You don’t understand why that’s important or relavent. Or why he felt the need to poke your cheek. “ ‘S never come up…” he hums, rubbing your belly some more.

“You should tell me about yourself.” You open your eyes to take a look at him, who in turn is looking at you so lovingly.

“Wanna hear all about you.”

You lay your head back against the pillows, thinking long and hard. “Ok well…. Um… m-my favorite color is pink and green.”

He smiles at that. It’s not what he meant, but it’s a start. He pulls up next to you. “Yeah? Why pink?” You think again, pulling your lips in thought. “It’s just a pretty color. Nice to look at.” Fucking cutie. He hums, placing a kiss on your neck.

“And green?” You shrug. “Reminds me of the trees and grass, like lookin’ at it to.”

“What’s yours?” He stays quiet for a bit, kissing your color bone. “Red.”

Your brows shoot up. “Red?” He nods. “It’s bold and intense. It’s like it’s supposed to be intimidating but it isn’t.” You nod.

“Makes me think of passion and courage.”

You giggle. “Passion?” His eyes narrow playfully. He brings his face close to your ear. “Passion.” You shiver.

He kisses every ounce of skin he can get to, having you in a giggling blushing mess. “You like that?” He muses, kissing you more. You nod.

“Good girl.” Kiss. “Got so many kisses in store for you.” Kiss. “So many suprises.” Kiss.

You laugh, actually laugh, and it makes his heart swell up. He hopes his baby has the same laugh as his mother.

“Love ya pretty.” He murmurs, kissing you on the lips. “Love you to.”