#Every morning I wake up and cry for help and it is better for it
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creepyscritches · 2 years ago
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I am TELLING you, nervous young adult, that truly it is so easy to do scary shit you're unfamiliar with if you TELL people you don't know what to do. I prommy literally every other adult is doing the same thing. Spent 45 minutes this morning explaining everything I didn't know how to do to a colleague and she went "Oh word here's my aids I use" and now my entire built up list of stressful tasks is like lol DONE
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rougarou06 · 1 year ago
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i had 2 stay home from school 2day bc my mouth hasnt stopped hurting yet and obvs i cant bring pain pills 2 school. my mouth hasnt gotten any better since the day of the surgery so i may have 2 stay home 2morrow as well. the oral surgeon said i need 2 come in i think 2morrow afternoon if my mouth still doesn't feel better so that's not concerning at all /s
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ayamohammed2024 · 2 months ago
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Hello
my name is Aya, I am 26 years old, currently living in the northern part of Gaza City, and I am a mother of two children. My oldest is my daughter, Sana'a, who is 5 years old, and my youngest is my son, Wasfi, who is 3.
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Since the morning of October 7th, 2023, our lives have been turned upside down. We have lived through the hardest days of our lives, facing displacement and homelessness. We have been forced to leave our home more than ten times since the war began. We would leave without knowing where to go.
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We sought refuge in schools and relatives' homes, hoping we could return home and that this nightmare would end. But our house was bombed, and our dreams were destroyed. We became homeless and displaced.
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Every day, we wake up to the sound of bombs and rockets. I lived in constant fear and terror with my children, especially when my family's house was bombed while we were taking shelter there.
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We are experiencing a real famine in Gaza. I’ve gone to bed with my children many nights without dinner because there is no food available. We have had to eat animal and bird feed due to the high cost of flour just to fill the hunger of my young children. Even after eating it, we all suffered from diarrhea and severe stomach pain. My children developed rashes on their bodies due to the spread of viruses and the accumulation of garbage. There is also a severe shortage of water, and even when we find it, it's not safe to drink.
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My children cry, asking for vegetables, fruits, and eggs, but we can’t afford them because we have no income. The gas shortage has forced us to use fire for everything—cooking and baking—using plastic and pipes because firewood is so hard to find.
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My children also developed jaundice, and I struggled a lot to get them better because there was no access to vegetables, fruits, or medicine. I even feared that my son might have developed polio because he already had leg problems before the war, and they worsened due to malnutrition.
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Winter is coming, and we have nothing for it. I need clothes and shoes for my children to keep them warm, but I can’t buy them because they are so expensive.
For this reason, I beg of you and hope that you can support me, even with the smallest contribution, so I can provide my children with the most basic necessities of life.
I was displaced with my children to my family's house, tears in my eyes. On the way, Salah Al-Din Street was bombed, and the Israeli occupation committed horrific massacres. By the grace of God, we survived for the first time. We lived in terror and fear. A few days later, my family's house was bombed, and we were pulled out from under the rubble, miraculously surviving for the second time.
When my husband heard the news that we had died, he came to bid us farewell, only to find us alive by God's grace. We returned with him, but as the situation worsened and the fire belts in our area increased, we started to flee again and again, not knowing where to go next.
I beg of you to share my story and help me continue to live.
✅️Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #230 )✅️
Vetted by butterfly nu #1133
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ahmed0khalil · 4 months ago
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Hello, among the hundreds of tragic stories, I am sharing my painful story.
My name is Ahmed Khalil, I am 6 years old. I was at the beginning of my education, trying to learn, participate, and play with other children. My family consists of 8 members, including my mother and father. My father has diabetes, my brother Fathi is blind, my other brother Abdullah has autism, and my brother Mohammed was injured in his leg by shrapnel from rockets.
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On October 7, 2023, the war began and has not stopped since. The airstrikes and Israeli shelling caused fear for me and my family. We could not endure the massive explosions that felt like recurring earthquakes and the red flames sweeping through the area. We were forced to flee to southern Gaza based on orders from the Israeli forces, leaving our beautiful apartments behind. We went to a UN refugee school in Deir al-Balah to escape the terror and death.
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We stumbled into a different life full of suffering from every side, living through the most painful hell of war. I developed malnutrition due to contaminated water, poor hygiene, and the spread of infectious diseases with no suitable medicine available.
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The situation is catastrophic and unbearable. “There is only death left in Gaza. Even death has become a privilege because it provides a sense of relief.” My older brother Mohammed and I begged our father to leave Gaza, but it was extremely difficult due to the high costs. My father lost all his property during the war, including his electronics repair center and apartment, which were completely destroyed, so he has nothing to help us travel out of Gaza. There is no safe place in the Gaza Strip.
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I pray every moment for the end of this war and a ceasefire. The ceasefire is not just a call; it is a desperate cry to end the helplessness and despair spreading to every corner after more than 11 months of war. We flee from death every day, only to wake up the next morning to try to escape it again. My heart is heavy, unable to bear the recurring nightmares, and the overwhelming flood of news about blood, displacement, loss, and despair pouring from Gaza.
Every minute feels like a struggle. No one should have to endure this injustice, segregation, and discrimination. The ongoing shelling in southern Gaza and the intense bombardment of residential buildings in Deir al-Balah make everyone feel unsafe, believing they might be the next to face tragedy. Communications are cut off. We are exhausted and cannot bear more tragedies and losses. We are currently living in a classroom of the UN center, which is crowded with people, including my relatives and cousins. My poor father sees our pale faces and weak bodies and stands helpless due to the lack of money and resources.
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I am still six years old, and I never thought I would witness such a brutal attack with complete disregard for human values. I am deprived of my basic rights, including health and education. I need to rebuild my life with my family abroad and receive better healthcare. Traveling to Egypt would cost at least $5,000 per adult and $2,500 per child, which is an enormous amount given the harsh living conditions and the blockade that has lasted for 17 years.
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Therefore, I ask you to donate so that we can evacuate Gaza to safety. Please continue supporting our campaign by donating if you can and sharing it with your friends and family. Every contribution, no matter how small, helps us get closer to our next goal and brings us nearer to securing a safer future for my family.
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amandabbbbb · 7 months ago
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summary: rafe who protects maybank!reader from luke bc jj is too busy finding gold to protect his sister
tw: parental abuse, mention of drugs, rafes sweet but kinda demanding
word count: 526
you covered a shift working at the wreck because kie could never be bothered to take a shift at her dad’s restaurant, too busy running around the island trying to find whatever gold bullshit that john b has got your brother’s friends and him hung up on. you call jj, overwhelmed from the morning of dealing with your father luke’s fit of rage.
“are you gonna be home tonight? dad just bought a bunch of drugs from barry’s and i don’t want to be alone. i’m scared.”
“sis, you know i love ya, but do you want our lives to get better or not? i’m tryna get us out of this hell, alright? so just stay in your room and don’t come out. love ya, bye.”
he hung up before you could squeeze in another cry for help. just as your salty tears fall, rafe cameron motions you over to give him his bill. you wipe your tears away and give him the fakest smile. he orders you to sit in the opposite empty chair.
“are you alright, sweetheart? i heard that. you know, i know your dad’s a druggie dick. i’ve seen him at barry’s. I gotta get you out of that house. i see your bruises. you know all that makeup doesn’t cover it.” he grabs your arm and rolls up your sleeve, showing your bruise from your father. you, flustered, pull away as his tone was demanding.
before you could even respond, kie’s words ring in your ears: “rafe cameron wouldn’t be caught dead eating here, especially alone. he usually spends his time at the country club. to a kook like him, the wreck is a dump. but ever since you started working there, he always sits at the same table almost every day, staring at you your whole shift, and if you aren’t his waitress, he makes a huge fuss. he’s so sweet to you, always.”
“rafe, really, i’m alright. don’t worry about me.”
“stay at mine tonight, y/n. i’ll take care of you.” he sets 1000 dollars down on the table. he usually gives you a 100 or 200 dollar tip but never this much. you barely know rafe.
“rafe, no. i can’t take this. i don’t even know… uh, uh, rafe, i can’t.”
“stop mumbling and take it. your dad spends all his money on drugs and your brother’s too goddamn worried about god knows what to even be home to take care of you. so i’m going to man up and protect you, okay? so shut up.”
that night after your shift, you stay at rafe’s house. he lets you stay in sarah’s room since the camerons are away. for the first time in ages, you finally relax, safe from your abusive father. you fall asleep almost instantly, exhausted from the stress. rafe makes sure you’re comfortable, checking on you throughout the night. when you wake up in the morning, you find a note and breakfast waiting for you. the note reads:
“good morning, sweetheart. had to run some errands. i know we’re very different but i know what you’re going through. stay as long as you need. you’re safe here. - rafe.”
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tradgedyinwaves · 3 months ago
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Poly!141, knowing your ex didn't give you the time of day unless he wanted something and refusing to be anything like him. Ghost! who makes sure your lunch is made so that you don't have to worry about it in the morning before work. Price! who makes you dinner when you come home every night and it's always something you like and didn't have to ask for. Johnny! who has taken notes in his phone for your order at every restaurant and memorized which locations are your favorites
Gaz! who insists on doing the grocery shopping and always grabs a little treat for you.
Ghost! who knows how to fold the laundry and insists on helping you which inevitably ends up with him doing it all and sending you off to relax.
Price! who notices when you wake up on the wrong side of the bed and instead of holding it against you, tries to lighten your mood with your favorite snacks and movies.
Johnny! who dotes on you when you're sick with no regard to his own well being, keeping you on a regular schedule of medication and not letting you leave the bed for anything other than showers and bathroom breaks.
Gaz! who knows exactly which tampons and pads you need when your period comes, weighing you down in snacks, pain meds, and massages
Of course, you never want for a good dicking either.
Ghost! who takes you hard and fast, edging you till tears stream down your cheeks
"Aw, don't look at me like that, luv. You'll get to cum...eventually"
Price! who has you in a mating press every chance he gets, whispering in your ear about how pretty you'd look with a belly swollen with his kid.
"Gonna put a baby right here, little bird. pump you so full it has to take."
Johnny! who is willing to try anything. You want him to fuck your ass? He's scissoring his fingers inside you expertly. You want to peg him? Absolutely, just be nice, eh?
"Fuck, lass. I think you fuck me better than the boys"
(and of course, you take that to heart and brag to the others)
Gaz! who will spend hours with his face between your thighs until your crying from overstimulation and trying to get away from his expert tongue while he drags you back to him.
"Don't run from me, pet. You're just so sweet, I can't help myself"
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onlyswan · 8 months ago
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summary: in which for you, jungkook would commit crimes and his mother would peel oranges.
idol!jk x reader | fluff, angst | word count: 9.5k
warnings/content: oc passes out in the shower / jk does something crazy i’m literally insane about this / baby bam cameo 🥺 / stitches >:( / blood draw / mention of speeding / jealous not but rlly jealous oc is pissed owfffff at the nurse who has a crush on jk lmao / jk and his mom loves them to death tho so obv who wins / love is beautiful let’s all cry <3
> in which masterlist!
note: *sitcom sound effect of crowd cheering* I’M BACK 🥰 hope u enjoy the product of my madness during finals season hehehe. and special thanks to my cutieful proofreader rio!! you’re one of my most favorite people i’ve ever met 🥺💕 + my beloveds who came to the rescue when i had medical questions !! i didn’t expect to receive help from soooo many and i’m so freaking grateful i could cri :")
“i ordered it the other day. how did it arrive so early?”
jungkook walks back inside the apartment, arms occupied by a stack of boxes that arrived in the mail yesterday.
he arrives at the living room, head tilting to the side in confusion when he realizes that the netflix show he was watching on the television is no longer playing. instead, there is the news channel.
he gasps.
“baby, you’re alive!”
your swollen eyes flicker up to him.
you’re lying on the sofa with your legs lazily dangling on the edge. there’s a toothbrush in your mouth, foam of bubbles between your lips, but your arm barely exerts the energy to make it do its job.
“you were asleep from afternoon to morning. do you know that? you’ve never done that before!” he exclaims, carelessly tossing the boxes on the floor. “i was getting scared!”
you only hum to acknowledge his existence, pushing yourself up from the sofa and unknowingly dodging the hug your boyfriend wanted to greet you with.
he ends up collapsing face first on the empty space you left, hurt and offended.
the bathroom door opens and closes.
he flips over, whining. “yah, we didn’t see each other for a day. didn’t you miss me?!”
still not a single word from you. sleeping that long must not have cured your exhaustion, jungkook surmises. you tend to be glum and cranky when you’re feeling unwell, as is usually the case when you wake up as unrested as before.
he doesn’t always know how to make you feel better, but he always tries anyway.
“our new bedsheets arrived!” he announces from the other side of the bathroom door, making himself loud so that you can hear him despite the shower running. “do you want to unbox them with me?!”
he allows the seconds to pass, but with his hands on his hips, he eventually begins to tap his foot on the floor.
“baby? may i go in?”
he turns the knob, just to be prepared incase the answer is a yes, but it doesn’t turn. a sad pout forms on his face.
huh? why is it locked?
you must genuinely don’t want to be bothered today.
“guess that’s a no.” he mutters to himself before calling out to you. “okay, i’ll wait for you!”
with a crestfallen sigh, he begins to walk back to the living room.
he doesn’t go far, however.
only several steps later, a series of loud crashes is heard from the bathroom and his heart thunders in his chest with a combination of numbing shock and fear.
“____, what was that?! did you fall?!”
he aggressively pounds at the door, extremely desperate this time around. he has no plans on leaving until he knows that you’re safe and sound.
“baby! open this! are you alright…? are you hurt? you’re scaring me. please, answer!”
he pauses, catching his breath as his mind runs a thousand miles per hour.
“____!”
he strikes the door with an open palm one more time, more so to express his frustration that is only growing worse with every tick of the clock. he only ends up hurting himself in the process.
“that’s it! i’m opening the door!”
he frantically whips his head around, racking his brain for the location of the key. there are two copies of it somewhere in the apartment, but in his panicked state, he is unable to pinpoint either of their specific spots. and he can’t fucking afford to waste any more time.
“ah, fuck!” he curses, left with no other choice but to give in to the instinct of breaking down the door with the strength and durability of his body alone.
he would most definitely break his shoulder first before the door.
only after the first try, that much is clear.
and so, with madness inconsiderate of his agony, he resorts to kicking it over and over again.
the repeated loud collisions rattles poor bam from his slumber. not long after, the dog’s barking creates a booming dissonance with his grunts and kicks at the door.
when it finally swings open, the force of his own body sends him stumbling on the bathroom floor, but he doesn’t waste time in bouncing back to his feet.
the twisting of his stomach is instantaneous.
there lies your naked, unconscious figure behind the glass— surrounded by bottles of hair and body products that must have fallen when your hands were searching for something to hold on to.
his voice cracks, breathless.
“baby, no… no, no, no.”
he kneels on the floor, and despite the strong urge to carry you out of there, he tries to calm down. it’s the first rule in every emergency case; professionals reiterate in seminars and news channel segments.
keep calm. keep calm. keep calm.
he won’t be able to forgive himself if he ends up causing more harm than good.
“____, can you hear me?!”
his instinct tells him to inspect every inch of you for any sign of injury, but then his vision becomes too blurry. he curses at the hindrance and forces himself to turn off the showerhead that was left running.
he harshly wipes his face, rushing back to you.
“please, please, please. wake up.” he begs.
he has a feeling that it’s futile. you can’t hear him and he’s wasting his breath. the thing is he doesn’t know what else to do.
“baby…”
he carefully turns your head over, almost relieved because he hasn’t seen blood so far.
almost.
at last, he gets a full view of your face, and he finds blood dripping. this has always been one of his most paralyzing fears— seeing you get hurt. now that it’s become a reality, there’s a part of him that wants to believe this is some kind of twisted dream.
“how- how did this even happen…?” he cries out, his own blood running cold.
for everything that happens after, his body acts on its own. bam is a constant presence in his peripheral, but he is barely in his right mind to acknowledge the presence aside from, “bam, move. daddy might step on you.”
he carries you out of the bathroom, kicking aside the beaten up door. he has made up his mind about bringing you to the hospital, but he can’t bring you like… this.
he lays you down on the bed, all that gentleness switched off in a split second so he can sprint to the walk-in closet. he hastily grabs whatever is on top of your neatly folded stacks of shirts and pants; and then a fresh towel on the way out. the gentleness returns as he pats your face dry, the pure white stained with dark red. he flips the towel and uses the other side to wipe the rest of your body, in a race against time but mindful of treating you like fragile glass.
once that is over, he dresses you in a pair of gray sweatpants, and with some difficulty, an orange t-shirt.
any person with functioning eyes will be able to tell that the shades don’t go together.
if you were conscious, you’d definitely berate him for making you wear this outfit.
but you’re not.
jungkook effortlessly swoops you in his arms— dripping wet hair, his and yours, leaving behind a trail of raindrops from your apartment floor to the cemented parking lot.
your body feels like it’s floating.
are you dreaming…?
you must be dreaming.
you hear an uncoordinated symphony of voices, but you can’t comprehend a word. in pursuit of clarity, you force yourself to open your eyes.
the voices grow a little louder. faceless figures hover you; a bright light shines over your face.
your senses must be playing cruel tricks. now it feels like you’re drowning, sinking into the unknown, and your body has succumbed into numbing defeat.
you want to sleep a little more.
you must truly be exhausted. it’s okay.
you’ve fought hard until now. you’ve done enough… has anyone tried in life as much as you did?
just as your eyes flutter shut, you regain sensation of your hand; a soft squeeze and a call of your name.
jungkook gently strokes your hair, sighing for the nth time since you got transferred to a private room. he’s relieved that all the scans came back clean so serious head and brain injuries have been ruled out. the doctor also asked him questions and ran some other tests before concluding that electrolyte imbalance caused you to pass out; the culmination of stress and fatigue from work, as well as your strong period, most likely being the main reasons. he didn’t even know about the latter until you stained the white sheets with blood.
it was fucking frightening being in the sidelines as they rushed to check on your vitals and to administer oxygen. even now, it’s unbearable to see you with a needle in your hand and a few stitches above your eyebrow. he already anticipated you not being pleased with having to get stitches specifically either; gasping and sitting up as soon as you heard the word come from his lips post-consciousness. consequently, the dizziness hits you. the doctor wasn’t happy about that.
“this is so annoying. i don’t want a scar.” you whine as you study your face on the camera of jungkook’s phone. “did i have to fall on my prettier side?”
“what are you saying? you’re pretty from any angle.” he interjects. “be careful. the wound might open up.”
you jut out your bottom lip, looking up at him with glassy eyes. the sight instantly tugs at his heartstrings, and he pulls you in for a hug. maybe he’s a little sad that you don’t appear concerned about the fact that you passed out, but god is he relieved to finally hear your voice again.
“ah, i should call the doctor.”
but his face remains buried in your hair.
“they told me to do so.”
“you should-”
“why?!” he abruptly reacts, drawing back. “does anything hurt?”
“chill. you said that they told you to.”
“oh, that’s right.” he sheepishly smiles. he can’t help but to overreact; he hasn’t turned off the alarms in his head. “i’ll go tell the nurse to get her.”
he starts to walk towards the door, but a tug at his shirt holds him back.
you shyly look at him with a scrunch of your nose. “i’m nervous. hug me for five more seconds.”
fuck, he would move heaven and earth to protect you from everything that can cause you harm.
“why would you be nervous? i’m right here.” he scolds you lightheartedly, not hesitating to seize the chance to hug you again. “i love you.”
“i love you more.”
you pull away after five seconds, and he’d be disappointed about you being too true to your words if you didn’t kiss him on the cheek so ardently.
his heart almost jumps out of his chest when you gasp out of nowhere as if you just realized that you left the gas tank open at home. your eyes nearly pop out of their sockets.
“bam!”
oh, right. your child.
“my brother’s house!” he eases your mind.
you breathe out in relief, the heel of your palm pressing against the left side of your chest where your heart lives. “good… i was worried. he was probably more scared because he didn’t understand what was going on. i feel bad.”
you love bam so much; it makes him so happy. you’re so concerned about him even when you’re the one on the hospital bed. you make pretty good parents, huh?
“that’s right. he was worried about you, too. that’s why you need to recover quickly so he won’t be sad!”
the doctor kindly asked jungkook to give the two of you some time alone, so he’s been idly sitting at the lobby after buying a bottle of water. he’s pretty much used to visiting the hospital for routine checkups considering the nature of his job, but it always feels strange to be here for the other different purposes of the place.
is there any other building sadder than this?
if you heard him utter this question, he could easily predict what you’d say: but is there any other building with more love?
if he tries hard enough, he could listen to your voice and paint you in his mind.
you see love in every place that you step foot into.
his curious eyes continue to wander around. he spots people carrying flowers, baskets, and containers of food. there’s also a teenage boy in his high school uniform, carrying a teddy bear larger than him.
not that he wants you to stay longer, but if you have to, he writes down a mental note to bring one of your favorite plushies.
he eventually gets tired; considers scrolling on his phone again, but he decides against it when his gaze lands on a little boy sleeping soundly on his mother’s lap. suddenly, he is reminded of his childhood before he moved to seoul.
how simple life can be when you’re innocently sleeping on your mother’s lap, trusting that everything will be alright.
“ah, i miss my mom…” he utters absentmindedly. “i miss my mom so much. i should call her.”
his reminiscing is interrupted when a wheelchair rolls by infront of him. it is leisurely being pushed by an old man who wants to bring his wife outside for some fresh air.
in a parallel universe somewhere, jungkook can imagine them as you and him.
he sits up straight, looking back at the clock on the wall.
how long has it been? he wants to be by your side again.
“jungkook!” your face lights up as soon as your boyfriend steps into the room. “what took you so long?”
“i know. sorry, baby. i got a little distracted outside.”
“i’ve been waiting.” you pout. “why? were people bothering you?”
“not at all. don’t worry.”
you pat the empty space beside you. “here.”
“i think the bed is meant for only one person- damn, okay, okay-”
he swiftly gives in upon seeing the hurt on your face, occupying the space you reserved for him. “i love you. don’t be sad.”
you’re aching too much to wait for him to get settled. you wrap your arms around his waist like you’re a magnet attracted to steel, clinging to him for comfort.
if you’re being honest, you don’t know how you feel about being in this situation. overwhelmed? maybe a tiny bit relieved. in the past, it didn’t matter whether you were sick or not. you needed to work or else it was guaranteed that you wouldn’t survive. life is easier now. you have the luxury to use this as a reason to take a break. you have someone who takes care of you as naturally as he breathes.
“how was the doctor?”
“she’s nice… she just asked me about the things i remember before i passed out. then about my work, diet, sleeping schedule… stuff like that.”
you pull away a little, just enough so you can see each other’s face. you squint at him suspiciously. “did you have to get an expensive room?”
he chuckles. “how did you know? they didn’t tell you that, did they?”
“i literally have the perfect view of the fountain from here!” you point at the large window behind you. “i just passed out. i would’ve been fine downstairs.”
“don’t say it like that. it could’ve been so much worse.” he says with knitted eyebrows, palm cupping the back of your head and caressing softly.
he heaves a sigh.
“i was so scared that you injured your head. seriously, i thought i’d go insane if i lost you! i went past the speed limit driving you here!”
the distress he was under is apparent. you can’t help but to be racked with the guilt. you always do this, making him worry himself to death. you don’t usually do it purpose, and that only makes you feel shittier.
“you’re right. i’m sorry.”
“well, i…” he sighs. “it’s okay. i know you didn’t want this either. it’s not your fault.”
you press your lips into a thin line. “it kind of is.”
your lost eyes meet, and a connection is established like it’s a constellation sending a secret message. your heart flutters when he giggles, dimples and starry eyes and crinkled corners.
“stop it. it’s impossible to scold you when you’re so cute and self-aware.”
“then don’t scold me.” you sniffle sadly to kindle pity in him. “i’ve had enough of it from the doctor.”
your brain still works well enough to help you escape from trouble. that’s a good sign, right?
“my poor baby.” he coos, cradling your cheeks.
his hands are warm. you put yours over them; a wordless signal telling him you don’t want him to go away.
“let’s not get hurt again, please. we need to stay healthy and take good care of ourselves so this won’t happen again, alright?”
you nod in obedience. your eyes are fixed on him but you’re not certain if you’re registering what he’s telling you in your pitiful, shaken brain.
“the hospital already did me many favors. if we go back, i might have to build them another fountain as a gift.”
and knowing jungkook, with his golden heart and his black card, jokes become half-meant.
“what do they need that for?!”
he bursts out laughing, yet again, after you chide at him for his ridiculous and unnecessary expenses.
“nothing, i’m just grateful! i was really so scared but i’m relieved now thanks to them. i can’t remember the last time i felt that way.”
“you’re not scared of a lot of things.” you point out.
“that’s right.” he agrees. “only you scare me these days.”
you grimace. “am i scary?”
“you are, sometimes.” he laughs, squishing your cheeks together. “but i mean the things that could hurt you.”
as if on cue, your stomach grumbles and bellows like a monster stuck in an empty cave. your eyes grow twice its size in bewilderment, which then morphs into embarrassment.
“my stomach hurts.” you say quietly.
your nostrils flare as jungkook miserably fails to hold back his laughter. one of his hands leave your face, rubbing your tummy over the thin hospital gown.
“oh no, what are we going to do? where does it hurt? here?” he pouts. “should we go feed you now to make it go away?”
“what is wrong with you?” you slap his shoulder in annoyance. “i’m not a baby!”
“yah, be careful!” he yells, wincing as if he is the one in pain. “be gentle with the one with the iv!”
“you know one good thing that came out of this?” you gush out of nowhere.
you’re mixing up the ingredients of your bibimbap bowl with a spoon and a pair of chopsticks.
jungkook noisily drinks the final sips of his banana milk. afterwards, he makes a game out of shooting the box in the trash bin.
“what could that be?” he asks, doubtful.
he sits on the chair beside your bed. you greet him with a delighted grin, licking your thumb stained with gochujang.
“you proved your love. you committed a crime for me.”
he gasps to humor you, body freezing as if he’s currently processing the newly-learned information in his brain.
“oh? you’re right- i did! and you know what? i’d do it again!”
with a mouthful of rice, you shake your head in disagreement furiously. “you’re cute. but that’s the first and last.”
“but how are you sure that it’s the first?” he raises an eyebrow quizically.
silly enough, you envy him for being able to do so.
you hum in thought. “i guess you’ve stolen a few things for me, too.”
“few? you mean a loooot?”
“you’re the one who brings home food and random things.” you roll your eyes. “i never ask you to.”
“you told me you wanted the service bell!”
you feel yourself become flushed with sheepishness. he’s not lying. you’ve always found the object fascinating as a child, so you couldn’t help but to tell him to sneakily take one home after filming a competitive run bts episode.
did you have a silly phase where you and jungkook used it to summon each other just to laugh together about it?
perhaps.
“well, you’re rich. you could’ve bought me one instead.”
“but it was already there.” he reasons with a wide grin, gesturing infront of him. “i wanted to give it to my lover right away.”
his lover?
jungkook has successfully replaced your frown with an enamored smile.
“i made your heart flutter just now, didn’t i?”
a hospital stay has never felt this comfortable— not terrifying. you have stitches on your face and to add to that, this hospital gown feels super unflattering. somehow, your boyfriend’s loving gaze remains steady and you are melting.
“shut up,” you mutter, flustered, handing him the pair of chopsticks. “please eat with me. i can’t finish this on my own.”
“why would you let them put the needle in my dominant hand?”
you stomp your feet on the ground as jungkook squeezes some toothpaste onto a newly-bought toothbrush.
“i’m sorry! i was too stressed out so i just pointed! i think i got confused with- with left and right.”
you didn’t realize this while you were eating; that you were unconsciously holding the spoon with your non-dominant hand because the other felt uncomfortable. maybe because it was a simple task, scooping food and bringing it to your mouth. brushing your teeth, on the other hand… can be quite an arm workout.
“eeeee!”
he shows his complete set of teeth, urging you to do the same. you stare at him blankly.
“eeeee!” he repeats with heightened enthusiasm.
left with no other choice— you copy his awkward smile.
“there we go!” he praises you with an over-enthusiastic beam.
he carries on to brush your teeth, gingerly holding your chin to keep you steady as he does his job.
this is the first time jungkook is doing this for you. today is definitely not one of your finest moments. it feels a bit silly to be in this situation, and you feel bad for putting your boyfriend in this position in the first place. you can see that he’s trying his best—unnecessarily focused—and that he loves you, but you just hate giving him a hard time.
with a soft smile, he wipes the bubbles that overflowed past your lips.
“okay, spit.”
you spit out more of the bubbles on the sink. you assume that he’s finished, except he’s making another vowel sound for you to mimic the mouth shape of.
“ahhhh-”
“this is embarrassing!”
“baby, really? this is where you draw the line?” he playfully squeezes your cheeks together. “it’s almost over! ahhhh!”
and you let him do this thing, but not without a glare that is masking the embarrassing truth: you might be enjoying this more than you care to admit.
“see? was that so bad?”
as he tenderly pats your face dry in the aftermath, he says: “i’m sorry. bear with it a little more. let me take care of you so you’ll be healthy again.” and you feel every ounce of his sincerity pierce through the barriers surrounding your soul.
“stop it…” your voice suddenly comes out broken.
you want to put all the blame on your period for the tears that are now brimming your eyes, but jungkook is your biggest weakness of all and that is an explanation enough.
“why are you crying?” he panics. “what did i say?”
“it’s your fault.”
you break down into loud sobs, incapable of even keeping your eyes open. you never understood why we close our eyes when we cry, but right now, you know that you can’t bear to witness his reaction.
“you’re so sweet.”
the towel that was wiping the water from your mouth is now drying the tears from your stained cheeks.
“am i making you sad?”
you furiously shake your head. how could he say such a thing? he is the greatest joy of your life.
“no?”
“no!”
“okay, come here then.”
he wraps his arms around your trembling figure, caging you in the solace of his entire existence. a sense of calmness washes over your system, especially as he runs his hand across your back in gentle strokes. this isn’t his goal though, it seems. you hear none of his quiet shushes beseeching you to stop breaking his heart. he hopes you let go of everything that has been weighing on you, but he has already eased all your pains by loving you.
“ugh, i probably look horrible right now.” you force a chuckle to lighten up the mood, wiping your face with the back of your free hand. “i feel gross.”
“that’s not true.” he gazes at you fondly, brushing your hair with his fingers. “it’s actually infuriating how you look so beautiful still.”
“i know. i’m nice to look at; that’s why you tolerate my attitude.” you conclude in jest.
“yeah, sometimes.” he rides on the joke.
“what…?”
“i’m joking!” he rushes to take it back with a laugh. “of course i’m joking!”
you pout. “are you really?”
“oh, come onnnn.”
he coaxes you with a kiss on the lips— a good morning kiss long overdue. you’ve been spoiled rotten with affection; he knows you need more than one. he interrupts himself several times to kiss you.
“you know i’ll love you until our hair turns white and our skin all wrinkly.”
to be brutally honest, you’re not fond of imagining that far ahead. it’s daunting. you doubt your capability to age with grace. you’re horrified by the thought of having the majority of your life behind you. nostalgia has always been more bitter than sweet. but maybe this memory could be the sweetest of all, if jungkook truly stays by your side until then. in a cottage at the countryside like he said once, or a cabin by the ocean.
you’re both so young; so arrogant when it comes to making promises that are a shot in the dark. so fucking in love.
“me too.” you half-smile, scrunching your nose— a telltale sign of your joy. “now, get out. i really need to pee.”
his face becomes drained of blood. “but you’re st-”
“i won’t lock the door this time.” you cup his cheek, looking at his eyes reassuringly. “we don’t need property damage added to the bill.”
“did you not hurt yourself?”
“me?”
“you broke down the door. that’s not easy to do.”
you and jungkook make the best out of a bad deal. you’re squeezed together on the bed, browsing through television channels that seem to never end.
“it was easy because you were on the other side of it.”
that is what he claims confidently, but you are not fully convinced.
“wow, why do they have more channels than we do at home?”
“you didn’t answer my question.” you pout. “did you hurt yourself?”
“i didn’t hurt myself. i’m totally okay. i promise.”
he maintains eye-contact as he speaks. given the assurance, your tight chest unrestricts. jungkook is not a good liar. it’s a trait that causes him inconvenience every now and then, but it helps you to sleep soundly at night.
“should we just watch funny animal videos on youtube?”
“i guess that’s fine.”
it doesn’t show but you feel excitement run in your veins aside from the iv fluids that feel peculiarly cold.
from under your cheek, his chest vibrates with a giggle. “okay, hold on.”
as he pulls up the application, you tangle your legs together beneath the thin blanket. you hear the rapid tap tap tap of the remote control navigating the keypad while he types on the search bar, but your attention is someplace else. you’ve found the crook of his neck to sneak into, lazily kissing every inch of his exposed skin. your lips eventually trail up to his jaw. he smells so nice. you’re addicted.
“baby, someone can enter any minute.”
“i’m not doing anything.” you mumble.
you smile against his lips when he gives you a kiss as sweet as honey anyway.
“i’m curious about another thing.”
“what’s that?”
“did you cry?”
he comes to a still. the answer to that question requires a little time and thought.
“almost…”
“why almost?”
“no time. i had to bring you here, of course.” he replies.
you huff a laugh, exhaling a twinge of melancholia. “don’t cry.”
“i won’t. i’m happy now because you’re awake and fighting with me.”
“ow-”
your cry of pain is silenced when he squeezes you in an embrace that makes it nearly impossible to breathe.
“red panda!”
a squeal assaults both of your hearing as soon as your eyes land on the wide screen infront of the bed.
“i want one so fucking bad.”
the enunciated curse makes your boyfriend crack up in amusement. “that much?!”
jungkook opens his eyes to a nurse lightly nudging him awake.
“i’m sorry, i had to wake you up. i need to check vitals and draw blood.”
“shit, i’m sorry.” he panics.
his brain is foggy from the nap, but he still carefully sits up on the bed, wary of the iv line connected to your hand.
“i… was tired and i fell asleep.”
“it’s no problem; don’t worry.”
she smiles at him, but he doesn’t see it.
“you look adorable sleeping.”
“ah, really?” he awkwardly responds, absentminded. “it’s embarrassing.”
he stands on your side, about to disturb your peaceful rest much as it makes his heart ache with guilt, but you’re already stirring due to the absence of his warmth.
your heavy eyelids blink at the nurse in curiosity. “oh… do you need my blood?”
“yes, but i’ll take your blood pressure and temperature first.”
“okay,” you mumble, offering your arm. “it might be higher now because i’m scared.”
she chuckles at your joke. jungkook tries to share an endeared look with her and non-verbally communicate adorable, right?
“i promise i’ll be quick. although we definitely want it to be higher than earlier’s.”
you wince as the cuff around your upper arm goes as tight as it could, and you sigh at the same time that it begins to deflate.
“good, good, good,” she chants with a mumble. “it’s back in the normal range again…”
she brings out a digital thermometer from her pocket.
“you know where this goes.”
she hands it over to you, and you awkwardly place it in your armpit, holding it in place. it’s quiet as you wait for the device to make the beeping sound, except for her pen creating friction with your chart as she takes down notes.
“how’s your stitches? do you feel any discomfort?”
“it’s fine. thank you.”
not long after, you hear the beep. you return the thermometer to her, but not before taking a peak at the numbers displayed on the tiny screen. 36.8°C. you think you’ll live.
“i’ll draw your blood now.”
the nurse’s voice is sweet and reassuring, but it doesn’t quite ease the nervousness evident on your expression. your pupils shake as you watch her disinfect the area, and then comes out the long needle.
another one, jungkook laments inside.
“____, i’m right here.”
you crane your head, whimpering out his name. “jungkook,”
“it will be just a pinch. i’m inserting the needle now, alright?”
you take a sharp inhale.
if only he could switch positions with you, he would do it in a heartbeat. unfortunately, all he can do is caress your hair and whisper that it will be over soon.
“it hurts.” your damp eyelashes flutter, face twisting in discomfort. “i don’t like it.”
really, just a pinch? obviously a lie.
“hey, baby. look at the tv.”
the autoplay was left turned on after you fell asleep together. inside the screen is a puppy rolling around a snow-covered lawn. the wagging of its tail, the wide smile, and the pupils as big as boba balls: they all scream the happiness of an innocent.
“it’s so cute… i miss bam already. can we go to a dog park again?”
“of course!”
that promise sparks your smile. you turn to your side, and jungkook also catches a glimpse of the cotton taped to where you were poked.
“all done. you can go back to resting.”
“thank you. will you need to take blood again?” you inquire at the nurse.
“hm, probably. it depends on the doctor based on the results we get from this one.”
“can’t you just do it while i’m asleep? or is that not allowed?”
“baby…” jungkook snorts, hiding his face behind the palm of his hands.
the nurse laughs at your desperate suggestion. “that is honestly not a rare request, but the thing is… you might wake up in the middle of it and injure yourself. we can’t do that.”
“that won’t be a problem!” you passionately argue your case. “i’m a deep sleeper. seriously!”
“ah, thank you so much for your hard work!”jungkook intervenes, bowing to the nurse out of respect and gratitude. “i’m sure you’re busy. i will handle this!”
“oh yes, yes- thank you. please don’t forget the medicine for after dinner.”
“i won’t!”
“if you need anything, you know where to find me again.”
“yes,” he nods, chuckling. “thank you.”
“then i should leave…? but you’ll see me again later! bye!”
the door shuts, and his attention lands on your unimpressed form: a blank stare and arms folded infront of your chest.
uh-oh.
“did she seriously wink while saying that?”
“what?” he freezes, genuinely clueless. “i don’t know. i didn’t see anything. i was looking at you.”
“i’m right here- i’m the patient. why would you need anything from her? huh? why is she so excited to see you again?” you ramble angrily.
“right?!”
he climbs on the bed, reclaiming his spot next to you.
“that was weird.”
“what if she made it hurt on purpose? that…” you frown, glancing at your arm. “that didn’t really feel like a pinch to me.”
“ey, calm down. she wouldn’t.” he makes a doubtful face, laughing off the accusation. “…i don’t think so?”
you blink, exhaling in disbelief. “are you taking her side now?”
“of course not! baby, i’m just saying… a professional won’t do that.”
“why not? she’s still human. humans do stupid things when they like someone. she obviously likes you.”
“and so what?”
he grins with a spark of mischief, leaving an inch of a distance between your lips.
“i’m obviously yours.”
but you turn your cheek and your eyes fall on your lap, a pout highlighting your downcast mood.
“it’s so annoying.”
the regret sinks in after. he should’ve stuck to the golden rule: agree with everything that you say. there’s no point in having an argument no one will win. does it matter who’s right and wrong if each other’s sadness is contagious in addition to their own? your gut has almost always been right, and he’s old enough to be conscious of not allowing a stranger to put a dent on your relationship.
“are you serious? are you uncomfortable?” he tilts his head to try and get a better look at your face. “should i request for a different nurse?”
it’s quiet for a beat and he feels inclined to fill the silence with whatever enters his mind.
“i love you.”
almost immediately, your features soften and he knows your heart is also melting. the two of you bite the inside of your cheeks to hide a smile.
“no, there’s no need for that.”
but he still can’t help but to be worried. your peace of mind is his top priority. he doesn’t want you to be more stressed out, especially by things that he has the power to solve.
“are you sure?”
“she pissed me off. i need to piss her off too.”
of course, his ever stubborn and competitive lover. he sits up properly, amused and curious.
“and how will you do that?”
“i don’t know,” you nonchalantly shrug. “i’ll come up with something.”
“come up with what?”
to your surprise, a voice you haven’t heard in weeks echoes from the door.
“mom…?”
you’re stunned after only hearing yourself react to jungkook’s mother’s unexpected entrance. your head whips to his direction; your eyes wordlessly interrogating him.
“i need to go to work so i called her to watch over you.” he explains.
“why would you do that?” you argue with him as quietly as possible, lips barely moving as you try to hide your face from your mother-in-law. again, not one of your finest moments. “you didn’t have to. i can take care of myself.”
“but you don’t have to because you have us.”
jungkook marks the conversation finished with a kiss pressed to your temple, leaving you dumbfounded. he jumps off the bed and for a split second, you make eye-contact with his mother before he towered over her for a quick hug.
her kind smile is embroidered in your memory; a memory that wraps your heart in a type of warmth only a mother can provide.
“mom! i’m sorry. i really, really, really need to leave now. but! i’ll try to come back early so you can go home early too.”
“aigoo, stop stressing yourself out.”
jungkook receives a slap on the back, somehow more loving can scolding.
“i can stay the night so do what you need to do. you don’t have to worry.”
“it’s not only because i’m worried!”
she sassily puts a hand over her waist. it takes everything in you not to laugh out loud.
“then what else?”
“mom! what else?” he cheekily smiles. “of course i’ll miss ____ too much.”
did your boyfriend just…? to his mother? your jaw becomes slack from the shame.
“i missed ____ too!” she contests. “go to work and give us our alone time.”
you shyly smile when she transfers her attention from her son to you.
“hello, my baby. are you hungry?”
“does my son feed you well?”
“he does! but it’s funny- other mothers ask the opposite. are you feeding my son well? do you make sure he’s comfortable?”
you think out loud, transfixed on how she peels oranges with ease. your hands would always be stained by the juices, (and eyes red and teary from accidental splashes) (it’s too embarrassing to even think about) but hers are still magically clean.
“is that so?”
you graciously accept the slice she feeds you. she laughs when your face lights up like a christmas tree one more time. it’s way sweeter than you anticipated. you can’t get over how delicious it is.
“mhmm!”
perhaps you relied too much on dramas when it came to your expectations of what a relationship with your in-laws would look like. you imagined yourself running around like a dog trying to prove yourself worthy of their son, yet for some reason, it looks like they adore you for simply existing. it makes you feel extremely grateful, but you don’t understand.
“mom, i have a question… i know it’s probably too late to ask this now, but…”
“what could that be?”
“are you really not against me and jungkook living together?” you swallow your fear of the possibility of an unpleasant truth. “are you not… worried… that i’m receiving too much from him?”
because you would understand the apprehension. as a parent, one’s main concern would be their child. to outside eyes, it’s easy to come to the conclusion that jungkook is being taken advantage of and he’d be better off dating someone with the same status. sometimes you wish you were that someone too.
she utters your name sadly.
“he receives happiness and love from you. those are the most valuable things you could give to a person.”
she caresses your hair like she wants to erase the anxiety poisoning your mind.
“my dear, how come you’re worried about that until now? haven’t we told you? you’re part of the family. forget about my sister! i don’t welcome her negativity in our house!”
“living together is different. it’s a big deal. it normally happens in a relationship after…” the following words feel foreign in your mouth; they come out quieter than the rest of your sentence. “getting married.”
“then tell me. why did you agree to live with him?”
because you’re selfish. because you want more time that you can have him all to yourself. because you want to be accessible— the first person he runs to when he’s seeking comfort and stability. because you want goodnight and good morning kisses. because you were afraid of the risks but you’ve grown addicted to the thrill of love.
“he said… no matter how hard i push him away, he will stay within my reach.”
you hear your own shaky breathing. that moment— it’s still burned into your memory. you’re still holding on to it. it’s a promise he is yet to break and you pray that he never, ever does.
“i don’t want to push him away. i want to be within his reach too.”
you’re two people loving each other with everything within your means. after the endless pains and the deafening noise, you like to think that’s what makes this relationship worth fighting for.
“does my opinion still matter knowing that? will you let me stop you?”
“no, i won’t. i’d make you change your mind.”
if you had a machine connected to you, she would see how your heart rate has gone off the charts. but you’re known to say whatever’s on your mind and that, much to your dismay, isn’t switched off despite sitting infront of the woman who birthed and raised the love of your life.
you sniffle, pursing your lips nervously. “but i feel like there might be a right answer to that one.”
what you didn’t expect was her to laugh until her belly hurts; placing a hand over her mouth in an effort to calm herself down and keep grace.
“mom! stop, i’m so embarrassed!”
“no, ____, don’t get me wrong!”
she is teary-eyed as she gathers herself together.
“the more time i spend with you, the more i realize why jungkook loves you so much. i’ve seen him show incredible commitment twice. do you know that? first, when he went to seoul to become a singer. second, when he told us he got an apartment because he wants to be with you… of course, as his mother, i’ll admit that he’s young when he made those decisions, but he always proves to me that he’s smart and responsible.”
the urge to cry returns and strengthens as she speaks. you feel your eyelashes become damp with unshed tears. you don’t know how to act. you fiddle with your fingers. you stare at the strings and peels of the oranges you can still taste.
“i believe we both know jungkook’s personality well. he wouldn’t have let me stop him either. i’m happy to know that you’ll fight for him too.”
“thank you…”
“tsk, tsk, tsk- what is there to cry about? jungkook will get angry at me if he discovers that i made you cry.”
she wipes away your tears; however, the unmistakable scent of oranges that has clung to her hands and the affection in her tone bring forth a waterfall.
“seeing this makes me sadder.” she laments, referring to the stitches on your face.
“me too,” you babble in the midst of quiet sobs. “it makes me sad. it’s so ugly.”
you can’t remember the last time you felt this alone. perhaps it’s the effect of staying in an unfamiliar building of complete strangers. without your mobile phone, may you add. you managed to persuade jungkook’s mother to leave an hour ago because you didn’t want her to sleep on the uncomfortable couch.
the lights are turned off except for the lamp beside your bed, and with the television muted, you could hear a hairpin drop.
you’re alone and you can do whatever you want.
you dragged the visitor’s chair infront of the window to admire the garden like it’s a painting in motion. you watched people converse, stroll, and drink coffee. you watched them run for shelter when the clouds became too heavy and the sky began to fall. oh, so that’s why you couldn’t see the stars.
at this moment, there’s nothing left to amuse yourself with but the trembling of the leaves and the raindrops forming temporary rings when they fall in the water fountain.
your senses crave for more. you reach over and crack open the window, just enough to allow the sound of the rain and the scent of it permeating the earth to enter your room.
“this is kind of peaceful.” you whisper, amazed by the new lightness carried by your heart.
you close your eyes and you breathe in the petrichor deeply. you want nature in your lungs as a reminder that you’re alive. you welcome the cold wind kissing your face. you can feel your hair touching your neck. you always do, but for once, you’re choosing to acknowledge it. your thumb slowly brushes across the palm of your hand, perceiving the texture of your skin, the softness, and the lines. and your feet, they’re in the clouds, the fluffy slippers jungkook’s mother bought outside because she knows they’re your favorite to wear.
you’ve loved and despised this body for a million different reasons. your mind and heart have accepted defeat countless times, but your body wakes up to every brand new day without fail. your body implores you to live. did it finally give up on you today?
“baby!”
you look behind to search for the source of the sound.
you get your answer from the kiss planted on your lips.
you only saw his face for a split second, but even if you had your eyes closed, you’d know it has to be jungkook kissing you.
you can smell him. you’ve memorized the way the shape of his lips fits with yours.
oh, the sounds of his kisses too. you like to call them the butterfly call because they make butterflies appear in your stomach.
you could trace the scar on his cheek with your finger if you want to.
god, what a privilege it is to experience life in this vessel.
a knock on the door forces you to part too early. the same nurse from earlier enters and you internally scream all the curse words in your dictionary. jungkook acknowledges her with a bow and a quick ‘hello’ before squatting down infront of you.
“i committed another crime for you today.”
“huh?”
your wide, confused eyes take a glimpse at the nurse who is doing something with the controls of your iv line.
hahaha… she knows he’s not serious, right?
“what did you do?”
his smile is so big that his eyes have turned into little crescent moons. you’d make a guess but there is an infinite amount of things jungkook could possibly be this excited about.
…apparently, one of them would be strawberry cake.
you gape at the transparent box he was hiding behind his back all along.
“did you steal somebody’s birthday cake?!”
“it’s a producer’s birthday and he received lots of cakes, so he told me i can take one home.”
“how is it stealing if he allowed you to take it?”
he tosses his backpack on the couch as he sets down the box on the table. he rummages through the bag his mother left behind, successfully bringing out a spoon. meanwhile, you get your blood pressure taken again.
as he opens the box, he sends a smirk your way.
“no. i hid the strawberry cake because there’s so many who wanted to eat it.”
“are you crazy?!”
the nurse clicks her tongue. “don’t talk and stay still, please.”
“oh,” your hand flies to your mouth on instinct. “i’m sorry.”
“i’m sorry.” jungkook also apologizes.
you and your boyfriend secretly share a look, exchanging a smile that is stifled laughter inside. your lips remain zipped as the nurse restarts the process of taking your blood pressure. on the other hand, jungkook eats a spoonful of cake, teasingly wiggling his eyebrows at you. you roll your eyes and he tries harder to laugh without a sound.
seconds later, he grumbles about the room being too warm. he wipes the beads of sweat on his forehead using the back of his hand, and he does the worst thing he could possibly do at this moment. he reaches for his back, pulling his sweater over his head. naturally, his inner shirt rides up and allows wandering eyes a peak at his glorious toned abdomen.
passed out in the shower. busted your eyebrow open. front-row seat for a woman flirting and ogling at your boyfriend.
how fucking great.
“hello? i think it’s done.” you snap.
“a-ah, yes.”
you hear her swallow as she removes the cuff from your arm. she may be wearing a mask but she’s hot and red all the way to her ears. you’ve only read about it in books. you didn’t even believe this could happen in real life until now.
“i will check your temperature too.”
“go on.”
you repeat the same process from hours earlier, drumming your fingers on your thigh as you wait for the beep.
“yah, why is the window open? you’ll catch a cold.”
jungkook, yet again, steals the attention of every person in the room when he rises to his feet. his shadow casts over you as he closes the window.
“i wanted to smell the rain.”
“is the room getting too stuffy for you?”
you shrug. “i just wanted to smell the rain.”
you feel the nurse’s stare. you offer her a smile and her nameplate briefly gets caught by your vision. kang ji-woo.
“ji-woo; that’s a pretty name.” you pay her a sincere compliment. “it’s healing, don’t you think?”
“yes? uh-uhm, y-yes…” she replies, unsure and confused by the sudden small talk. “actually, it’s been linked to a reduction in stress and anxiety levels.”
“thank you! babe, did you hear that?”
“uhuh, think about my stress and anxiety levels.” he leans against the window with his arms crossed, raising an eyebrow at you.
so now he’s flexing his arm muscles. cool, cool, cool. you know he’s not doing it on purpose and his entire existence is just naturally hot and it’s infuriating.
“i’ve been worried sick about you all day.”
his statement makes you frown for a new reason. at the same moment, the thermometer beeps.
“could you please tell him that i’m fine?”
“37.3, uhhh- that’s slightly above normal. how do you feel? does your head hurt? are you cold?”
“i feel fine though?”
“okay. please take a lot of rest and stay warm…” her gaze lingers at jungkook who is blocking the window. “keep the window closed. hopefully it won’t be higher when i check again later.”
seriously?! you could cry. you want to go home where it’s comfortable. where it’s only you and jungkook and bam.
but you bet somebody would be happy if you had to stay longer.
“i’ll look after ____.” your boyfriend sighs, pulling out a jacket from his backpack.
“you shouldn’t have kissed me. what if you get sick?”
your blatantness causes the nurse to pause in updating your chart. she awkwardly clears her throat. “yeah… that… that isn’t currently advisable.”
“i’m sorry. i’ll control myself.”
you earn a glare from jungkook, then he fakes a smile which you gladly return.
“before you go, may i request for a new blanket? sorry, i spilled something earlier.”
“sure thing! i’ll come back with that right away.”
“she seemed happy to leave.” jungkook remarks. “i can’t tell if you were actually being nice or being passive aggressive.”
you smile innocently, taking a bite off the strawberry you stole from the top of the cake. “i’m a fucking angel.”
damn it, why is he suddenly turned on?
were you serious about the no kiss rule?
“would you rather i be the type to pull their hair?”
he shakes his head with a laugh. “but you did slap someone once.”
“you want to see me that furious again?”
“never in my wildest dreams.”
he kisses the top of your head, producing an exaggerated ‘mmmwah!’ sound that makes you giggle happily.
“here, have some more cake.”
he offers you a spoonful of cake.
no, it’s bigger.
as a matter of fact, the piece could probably pass off as a cupcake.
you gawk at it as if you’re figuring out the logistics of putting it in your mouth. his heart does a flip when you tilt your head and do your best to take in the whole thing. however, in the middle of it, you decide that you can’t, and you end up biting it off a little more than halfway.
oh my god, he loves you. he loves you. you’re so fucking cute.
your cheeks are full as you struggle to chew. you cover your mouth with your hand but they don’t touch. you’re so elegant in your ways and sometimes he wonders how you’re still attracted to him after he acts stupid.
also, plain white nails? that’s new. you always want colors.
“your nails look pretty.”
he is so focused on you that he fails to take notice of another presence occupying the room.
“your mom did them for me.”
“i figured. she wants to do mother-daughter things with you.”
the short break of silence speaks volumes. you look at him, blinking with eyes hinting at a type of joy you’re lost on how to express.
“did you choose white?”
“no. we were watching a drama and it was the couple’s wedding.”
oh, that makes total sense.
“let me guess,” he trails off with a half-embarrassed, half-entertained smile. “she asked when we will get married?”
“why would she ask me that? how would i know?” you scoff.
his heart starts at a thousand miles per hour. fuck, are you hinting at him? are you messing with his feelings again? with you, he always needs to remind himself to be rational.
“i need more time to prove to you that i’m husband material.”
“what? stop it. i don’t care. i don’t need a ring.”
your unpredictableness pushes him to the edge of his seat.
“don’t pressure yourself. you already treat me way better than most husbands do their wives.”
the pride painted on your face is unmistakable. he feels his heart swelling in his chest. has he been doing a better job than he originally thought? after what happened today, he was terrified that he hasn’t been paying enough attention to you.
“i’m so happy with what we have.”
you offer him a delicate smile before eating the rest of the cake that was left on the spoon. he swears there’s a glowing halo above your head.
could your temperature have magically dropped in the past five minutes? would you kill him if he kissed you right now?
“is there anything else i could assist you with?”
and then he is rudely snapped out of his hopeless adoration and daydreaming.
“that’s all! thank you for your hard work!” you chirp.
he turns to the nurse with a lovesick grin.
“please come to our wedding.”
the unforeseen wedding invitation earns him a slap on the chest. he clutches the affected area, wincing in pain.
he hears you mutter. “don’t invite strangers to our wedding.”
the irritated glare he predicted to face isn’t there. rather, you’re wearing the flustered smile he only sees when he knows that he did something to make you fall for him all over again.
before ji-woo left, she tried to subtly reject the invitation by jokingly saying that she’d die to go, but most probably, she’d have to work that day. you know… being an overworked hospital employee and all. you caught her glancing at you with bitterness failed to be guised as indifference. you get it. you’d hate it if another person was in your place. frankly speaking, you could be miles pettier.
your boyfriend wipes the corner of your lips, thoughtless as he licks off the cake frosting from his thumb.
damn it, you wish she was also here for that.
“you haven’t stopped smiling.”
“you love me and you never let me forget that.”
you give an answer despite the lack of a question mark.
you just made his world stop spinning on its axis and you’re not even aware.
jungkook knows the heavenly feeling of knowing that he is loved, but he has never deeply considered the joy and relief when the person he loves believes that he loves them.
“i’m so lucky. i love you.”
you push yourself up to plant a kiss on his forehead. it’s a rarity he treasures and keeps.
“i love you too.”
he cries infront of you.
almost.
he excuses himself to the bathroom and cries in there a little.
you’re so easy to love— that’s why it makes him want to do difficult things for you. like commit more crimes?
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luveline · 21 days ago
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Have you done a drabble on Reid and bombshell r wedding day?? I just read the proposal one and :(( it warms my heart
Ty for requesting!!! fem
The morning of your wedding day isn’t the chaos you’d both pictured. Spencer wears the finest suit he’s ever had. You wear a white silk dress with drops of diamonds hanging in your hair like the rain. There are no morning drinks, no catastrophes to correct.��
You sit on a chaise lounge. He sits in a wooden chair, dragged to you, his hands on your knees careful not to wrinkle the skirt of your dress. 
“It's so quiet,” he whispers. 
“I know.” 
Somewhere in the venue, Penelope and Luke are waging war on the florists —you did not order yellow geraniums. Hotch is explaining to Jack that you and Spencer met years ago, and have been smitten with one another pretty much every moment since. Derek’s cradling his toddler before he takes stage as the best man. JJ, Emily, and Tara are debating the kiss; will you make a show of things, pulling him in by the tie for a smacker, or will Spencer tame the excitement?
There’s a whole team of people making sure today goes smoothly. And still, Spencer‘s worried about some thing. 
“You know how beautiful you look?” 
“I should say that to you.” You reach for his tie, rolling it gently between your fingers. “My beautiful husband.” 
“This is… I don’t really know what to say.” 
“You don’t have to say anything, Spence.” Anything he has to say about you, you know it all. The same way you’ve told him every thought you’ve had about him for years. He’s part of your psyche. 
“I’m so nervous about my vows,” he confesses then. 
“Don’t be.” 
“What if yours are better than mine?” 
“They will be.” You raise your hand tentatively to his face, fingertips drawing in the hollow of his cheek. “But you’re the academic, baby…” 
“I can write them again.”
You smile at him keenly. “If you don’t like them, you can try again on our anniversary. Or in a few years when we renew them, yeah? It doesn’t have to be perfect. You’ve promised me all this stuff for years.” 
“My speech isn’t good enough, either.” 
“Your speech will be perfect. It’s Morgan’s you should worry about, he’s gonna rehash all the embarrassing things… Savannah said he’s been practicing when Hank’s sleeping. That he,” —you laugh, in love with not just Spencer but the world— “keeps waking him up laughing at his own jokes.” 
Spencer dips toward you at the sound of your laughing, he can’t help himself. “If it didn’t wrinkle your dress, I’d really try to have you in my lap,” he admits in a whisper, nothing salacious, just the honest truth. “We could sit on the floor, like we did that time in New York.”
“Where would we get dessert now?” 
“That’s what we’ll do tonight, right?” He looks for your thigh in the dress, squeezing nicely. 
“Yeah, Spence. Yeah, I’ll even put the dress back on.” You tilt your chin up and follow your nose down, meeting his gaze with an unnamed emotion. Total devotion, perhaps. Something too soft to describe accurately. “We’ll share the spoon, just like New York.” 
Three kisses and a careful hug, his hair tickling your forehead as he curls over you. “This is the best day of my life.”
“It’s the best day of mine!” You let your hands climb his back, aiming for the mop of his hair to play with. “You’re everything, sweetheart. You’re just perfect. I can’t believe you’re seeing me in my dress though, everybody says that’s bad luck.” 
But you and Spencer don’t worry about what everybody says anymore. Not for a long time. 
“It’s good to see it now. I… I know I’ll cry, but this is taking the edge off.” 
“Don’t cry, honey. You’ll make me cry, and if I cry up there I’m gonna feel so silly all day.” 
“Silly,” he says, beginning to rub your back in swoops. “If you don’t cry, I might feel jilted.”
“So I have to choose between mortal embarrassment or hurting my husband?” 
He hugs you tighter. You aren’t married yet, but by the end of the night you will be. You’ll order desserts to the hotel room and sit in his lap on the floor by the heater, your white dress surely wrinkled, his tie either side of his neck, undone, neck exposed to be caressed with the tip of your nose. 
“I can’t not cry,” he says now. “Don’t expect me not to.”
“I don’t really expect you not to.” And no one will expect it of you when you cry like a child as he slips on your ring, but it makes sense to him. You and Spencer always make sense to each other. 
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divinesolas · 9 months ago
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Sneaking around
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r.q: Hii I was wondering if you could do a Jacerys x twin!reader. Where they have been betrothed since they were young, and as the grow up they start slightly falling for each other. And one night she sneaks into his room and they explore themselves 👀can it be smut aswell. 💕🙏
w.c: 3.2k
c.w: porn with plot, misunderstandings, oral (f), p in v, very inaccurate first time, loss of virginity, jacaerys is an idiot, not proofread, supportive daemon, happy ending, avoids use of y/n, talks of baela/jacaerys
part two
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You and jacaerys were inseparable ever since you were born. You two did practically everything together. You ate together, you sat and watched him train while he would sit with you and watch you stich. It was hard to separate the two of you. Your mother even told you when you were very young you would cry if you even lost sight of him and they had to bring him to you to comfort you. 
You had thought nothing of it, not until you had reached the age of three and ten when your mother announced you were to marry him. You could not even process this news as seemingly right after came the news of lady laena’s death and funeral then very soon after the marriage between your mother and daemon. 
When you could finally have a moment to breathe back at dragonstone you tried to turn to jacaerys but he seems to be avoiding you at all costs. More interested in spending his day with baela and lucerys. You couldn't even get along with him let alone speak a word to him without him dodging you and mumbling something about being busy before walking away and most of the time he would be spotted talking with baela and it broke you. 
You began spending more time with Rhaena and Joffrey instead. Joffrey was far too young to even understand why you were upset but rhaena did and did her best to try and cheer you up.
It was hard to move past it but It got easier as the years went on and he still refused to even glance at you. 
“Do you think she will call off the betrothal if I ask her too?” you were now eight and one after your recent name day and dread filled you as you realized you were getting closer and closer to marrying jacaerys. You two still did not talk, you had given up trying to speak to him a long time ago. 
Daemon who was casualing sitting next to you takes a sip out of his goblet, “why ever would you ask her to?” 
You do not lift your head to look at him with his curious stare and continued to stare at the game board in front of you, picking up one of the pieces before answering,
“He does not like me, it would be better for both of us if he married someone else,” you place the piece down before answering him, “like baela.”
He laughs, he laughs so hard he has to clutch his stomach, “it is not funny.”
He wipes a tear from his face as he manages to calm down. “You're right it is hilarious.”
You scoff and cross your arms, “i knew i shouldn't have brought it up-”
“No no, please continue why do you think he likes baela?” He seemingly picks up a random piece from the board and moves it before leaning back on his chair and looking at you expectantly. “Why should I not? When we had been betrothed the first thing he did was decide he wanted nothing to do with me since. Even on our shared name day he says nothing to me except simply wishing me well. He spends every waking moment with her, and when he is not with her he is with my brothers and simply acts like i do not exist he does not even extend me a good morning or a good night for gods sake!” one of your hands slam down on the table in front of you, the board pieces moving but not falling over and you only grow more and more annoyed at the amused look on his face. 
“You are in love with him.” “What does that have to do with anything?”
“You do not deny it.” you angrily move another piece of yours on the board and lean back on your chair as he does.
“It doesn't matter he does not like me. I shall bring it up to mother anyway since you are of no help.” 
He chuckles to himself as a servant enters the room to inform him rhaenyra requests his presence. He shakes his head as he stands moving one of his pieces before turning back to you. “Give it time Issa dōna.”
It is the last thing he says before he is led out the room. You glance down at the board and throw your head back with a sigh.
He had won.
“She plans to ask your mother to cancel the betrothal.”
Jacaerys freezes his head whipping around to look at daemon who was standing closely behind him. 
“Whatever do you mean?”
Daemon laughs, “you sister. She plans to have your betrothal called off.” 
“Why?” 
“Gods you really are foolish boy.”
Jacaerys always believed you to be his better half. While he was more temperamental and hot headed you always seemed to be so rational and so kind. When he heard of your betrothal the first thing he felt was excitement, but it soon turned into fear as he began to worry he would not be a well suited husband to you. He began to spend more time with baela and his mother who taught him how to be a kind and honorable young man and in turn he had begun to ignore you out of fear of ruining your relationship. He had never thought you would turn around and ask for the engagement to be dissolved. 
“You should act quick, she seems rather determined to be rid of you.”
Daemon could barely finish his sentence as he watches jacaerys march out of the room and a smile falls on his face. 
– 
You almost jump out of your seat as the doors of the room you resided in busted open. You moved to a balcony and had been reading. You clutch your book to your chest as you lock eyes with a seemingly out of breath jacaerys who lets out a sigh of relief upon seeing you.
“Jacaerys?”
“Sister, good day.”
You have no clue what to say. This is the first to who knows how long he had come up and approached you himself. All you could do is nod your head as you went back to reading your book.
“Could I sit with you?”
You hum and he takes that as a que to take a seat right next to you. You attempt to focus on the words in the book in front of you but you feel his stare burning into the side of your face you can't help but to feel flustered and the words are nothing but a blur. 
“Would you not rather be hanging out with others?”
After a few moments of silence you cut through it like a knife without looking up at him you continue to feel him stare at you. 
“Who ever could you mean?”
You scoff, aggressively turning the page despite the fact you had not read a single word on the previous one. 
“Oh I don't know, baela perhaps.”
“Baela? I believe she's busy today. But what does she have to do with-” “Oh so you are finally spending time with me because your precious baela is busy?”
“Where is this coming from?”
You stand and take the book under your arm as he stands up as well looking at you alarmed, “y/n..”
Gods, you missed him. You missed the way he said your name.
“I must go i have a meeting with mother i must attend to,”
He looks alarmed and grabs your arm before you can rush past him, “you must not speak with her.”
He grabs your other arm and pulls you close to him so you are forced to lock eyes with him as you feel your breath leave you. He has a desperate look about him, a wash of guilt and sadness over his eyes. 
“I do not deserve it such as i do not deserve you but i must beg for your forgiveness for my transgressions. I have been a bad brother and in part a bad partner but I must beg you to give me another chance. I know I shall never deserve you and I should not have stayed away from you for so long but I was worried you would begin to resent me so I sought out to become a man you would grow to l- grow to enjoy spending your life with. I am sorry. I shall work everyday to earn back your favor and to earn back your trust but I must beg you to not dissolve what has been written in stone between us.”
A tear must have found its way out of your eye as he brings one of his hands to wipe it away, his eyes never straying from yours. “Jace..”
He smiles and leans his forehead against your and takes a deep breath. “I beg of you. Allow me to fall and grovel at your feet for your forgiveness.”
“You're not just going to ask me for it?”
“I do not deserve such an easy fate. You must do me the honor of earning it.”
You laugh and your smile grows as he also begins to smile.
– 
A switch from never seeing jacaerys to practically seeing him all waking hours of your day was a dramatic change. When you awoke he would be waiting for you by the door to walk you to breakfast where he would sit next to you and he would request you come and watch him practice with lucerys and you would try and not laugh as he practically threw the younger boy around like a rag. 
The more and more time you spent with jacaerys the more brave he would become. When the two of you would walk he would place his hand on your back and slide it down almost low enough to be scandalous oh he would pull you into a empty corridor of the keep before dinner and just run his hands up and down your sides as he nudges his head into your neck, seeming content with simply just touching you as such. 
Despite the fact he seemed content, you grew more restless. You wanted him. No, you needed him at this point. Finally having him in your grasp after many years you could barely keep control of yourself when you were around him, wanting nothing more than to jump in his lap and let him have you.
One night you're restless in your bed, turning side to side unable to ignore the ache that resided between your legs and groan as you run your hands along your face. 
You decided to fuck it and just go visit him. Throwing on a cloak and don't even bother to tie it, keeping a firm grip on his with one hand as you walk out of your room and as quietly as you can begin to make your way down the hall down the very familiar path to jacaerys room. 
You begin to rethink your choice as you stare down his door, your bare feet cold on the harsh flooring of the keep. You could see light peeking out from under his door telling you he was still up despite the later hour and against your better judgment you raise your hand and lightly knock on his door. 
You hear a chair scrap and feet paddling towards the door until the door opens and you're met with his shocked face.
“y/n? What are you doing here?” He quickly peeks his head out and looks around the hallway before grabbing your arm and pulling you into the room.
“I just wanted to see you.”
“In the middle of the night?!? Where you could have been seen, what would mother think?” 
“I'm sorry..”
You hang your head and jacaerys sighs and rubs his hand over his face, “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get angry. I am just worried about your reputation.” 
He walks over to you and places his hands on your shoulders and you look up at him. You finally notice something, he’s shirtless. You should have noticed that sooner, of course he would be shirtless. You know most men sleep shirtless. Why would he be any different? 
He takes notice of your gaze and flushes, you take notice of the red beginning to shine on his ears and on his cheeks. 
“I am so sorry allow me to go cover myself-”
You grab his cheeks and he freezes. In your rush for him not to leave your side you forget about your cloak and it falls to the ground.
You gasp and move closer to him as a chill washes over you.
“y/n…”
His hands grip your waist and pull you right up against him and he drops his head into your neck and leaves a kiss there.
“Tell me to stop at once.” he continues to kiss your neck over and over as he runs his hands up and down your sides and you shudder.
“I demand you ask me to stop.”
His lips trail their way up your jaw and his hands rest against your cheek, “why must i?” “For your honor you must push me away for I fear I desire you far too much, it is improper.” 
“Jace.”
He groans and stops himself from kissing your lips, leaning his forehead against yours and breathing heavily.
“You must push me away.”
You decide to be bold and push your lips against his and he grips your face with his hands, kissing you frivolously.
Your hands find their way onto his chest and slide down under the band of his pants and he groans, his lips sliding off of yours, a trail of saliva falls between you as his head falls into your neck.
“Please, my love please.” he whines as his hips thrust against your hands. You had snuck away and read many a book about what a man and woman do in bed, especially after reconciling with jacaerys, and you wrap your hands around his dick and take your rub to rub around to the tip of it. He groans into your ear and suckles your neck. You use the seemingly constant flowing precum to pump up and down, taking pleasure in the way he whines and moans in your ear.
“You are too kind to me.” he slurs in your ear as you smile and work faster, “i only wish to please you, would you rather me get on my knees?”
You squeal as he rips your hands off him and lifts you up and carries you over the bed, “as thrilling as that view would be, I would much rather be pleasing you my love.”
He lays you down on the bed and gets on his knees pulling you closer to the edge, once he gets closer he lays his head against your thigh and admires you. “You did not come wearing anything under your gown?”
You cover your face with embarrassment, “do you think me desperate?” 
He shakes his head as he moves closer, “no, i am much worse.”
He licks a long strip up your core and grips your hips down with his hands as he eats as if he had never eaten anything before.
Your hands grip his long curly hair and you can barely contain your moans as you try to push him even closer to you.
“How are you so good at this?”
He hums against you sending chills down your spine, “I imagined this more than I would like to admit.” His words are muffled as he continues to assault on your clit but you can understand him clearly and moan even louder. He does not care, if anything he seems to encourage you by not faltering even for a second, if you could have any coherent thoughts you would wonder how he could breathe.
Your grip grows tighter in his hair and your hips fight against his hands as you grow closer and you feel him smile against you. “Come for me, I wish to taste it.”
And you do and he takes his time licking up each and every single drop before kissing his way up and climbs on top of you and smiles at you. His hands fondle your breasts on top of your nightgown, “could you take it off me?” 
Once the two of you are sat up he bunches up the bottom of your gown, “lift your hips for me.” he easily slides the gown up and off of you. His eyes glow as they rack over your body, “you are the most beautiful women in the whole world. I shall never deserve you.” 
He kisses you before standing up and sliding his bottoms off, you do not get any time to admire his form before he is already climbing over you once more and kissing you again.
“Please jace do not tease me.”
“I should prep you more-”
“I dont care”
“It will hurt-”
“All I want is you, please.” He looks worried but gives in as you feel his dick slap against you and you moan as you grip his shoulders.
“Please tell me if it hurts too much.”
It does hurt. It hurts like hell. A part of you almost tells him to stop pushing into you but you power through until you feel him bottom out. You two sit there for a while, the only sounds being your gasping breaths and his strained groans as he seems to be holding himself back. 
Once the pain seems to subside you test with a move of your hips causing him to moan out. “Do not do that.” “You can move.”
“Are you sure?”
“Please do.”
He is slow at first, so slow you can feel every vein up against your walls and you tighten around him and he hisses. As he continues to move your moans seemingly motivate him to begin to move faster and faster until he is rutting into you like he cannot control himself any longer. 
You sloppily leave kisses on his neck as your hands grip his back, you are so overwhelmed, all the feelings you hold towards your twin rushing towards you at full force.
“I love you.”
He stops, out of breath he grips your face with his hands, “what?”
Tears flood your face as you stare at him, you thought he never looked so beautiful. “I love you.”
He leans down and kisses away your tears as he begins to move once again, “I love you so much so so so much my sweet.”
In your rush of emotions you came yet he continues to kiss all over your face and your neck until as he did earlier his head slumps into your neck. “Where do you want me to-”
“In me please I beg of you. I need to feel it.”
And so he does. The two of you stay like that for a while, completely out of breath and covered in sweat. One of his hands comes to your cheek once more and caresses it as he lays a gentle kiss on your lips.
“I love you so much.”
“And i love you.”
2K notes · View notes
bucks-babe · 9 months ago
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Slip Up
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Pairing: Notsovirgin!Bucky x f!reader
Summary: While having fun with your boyfriend, an accident occurs, leading to another first for Bucky 
Warnings: Wrong hole, Bucky cums so much, squirting, Bucky is a sweet boy, unprotected p in v, anal, anal fingering, dirty talk, small mention of prostate cancer (Like one line), Bucky is an innocent baby, anal to vaginal fingering (DON’T DO THAT), Bucky calls reader a whore once, but it’s sexy, overstimulation?, daddy kink (I can’t help myself), Bucky is becoming a dom??, no crying during sex (I know, shocker) 
Word Count: 3.2k
A/N: Part of the Virgin!Bucky series. It can be read as a stand alone as well. But you shouldn't read it alone because it's filthy! And it's worth it to see Bucky becoming more and more a lover of Sex! Beta read and idea from the incredible @buckys-wintersoldier Blame her for the filth you are about to read. She’s the one who put this idea in my head. I can’t be held responsible for the feelings you experience. However, any and all mistakes are my own. But you wrote that!!!! A lot of filthy ideas which dropped my jaw and let my pasta almost fall out of my mouth!
You and Bucky have been fucking like rabbits ever since the day he lost his virginity to you. He was addicted to the feel of your tight cunt wrapped around his cock, never lasting more than a few minutes, but able to keep going thanks to the serum coursing through his body. He wonders if he will ever be able to last longer. You say you don’t mind that he can’t control how fast he cums, but it doesn’t make him feel any better that he can’t.
Even with that thought nagging at him all the time, the moment he enters you his mind goes blank, only able to think about how wet and tight you are. Never experiencing anything like it before. Almost every night you have to change the sheets, the sheer volume of his cum too much for your body to handle; however, that doesn’t stop you from fucking him every damn day, waking him up with blowjobs when he has morning wood, or the way you beg for him to cum in you just one more time.
Bucky understands now. He understands why people go so crazy over sex. The pleasure you give him makes him weak in the knees, not a single thought in his head, only the urge to fill you up over and over again. 
That’s how he ends up in bed, railing you. Legs thrown over his shoulders taking his brutal assault. He’s gotten more confident each time he fucks you. He may not last long, but he makes up for it with how many times he can cum and keep going. The both of you writhing in pleasure, him drawing seven orgasms from you already, eating your pussy for over an hour. 
He wasn’t too far behind, cumming inside of you three times and once down your throat. The sounds of your fucking is louder than ever, your squirt mixed with his excessive loads making you wetter than ever. “Fuck, doll, this pussy is so fucking wet, filled up with my cum. So fucking dirty, letting me use you like this, fucking you like a damn toy. God, my cock is so fucking sensitive, gonna blow again. Yeah, you want that? I bet you do, you dirty whore.”
One thing that Bucky has found out he really loves is dirty talk and degradation. He loves when you do it to him just as much as doing it to you. It makes his cock somehow even harder. Each push of his hips is met with a harsh slap of his thighs meeting your ass and the vulgar sound of the excessive wetness of your pussy.
“Shit, doll, gonna cum. Gonna cum so goddamn much, make this pussy overflow. Shitshitshit, fuck, m’cumming.” His balls pull up, forcing so much cum out of his cock that he swears he’s about to pass out. His eyes roll to the back of his head when he feels you squirt all over him, another wave of cum bursting from him. The force of your orgasm pushes his cock out, but Bucky was brainless now, having cum so much he was losing control of his body.
His hips never stopped moving, almost not noticing that he wasn’t in your pussy anymore, too lost in his own pleasure, cum still flowing from him. He tried to put his cock back in, needing to keep you full of his cum, but the amount of cum and wetness made a slippery mess. At the next thrust of his hips, his cock slides down, not entering your welcoming pussy, rather trying, and failing to enter your ass.
Your hole tight and unwilling to stretch on such short notice takes your breath away. The pain is instant, shooting from your hole all the way up your spine. “FUCK!” You push Bucky off of you with so much force he almost falls off the bed. Curling on your side, you try to gasp for air, the pain knocking the wind out of you. 
Bucky is knocked out of his stupor, cock immediately softening when he sees how much pain you’re in. “Doll, what happened? Are you okay?” Ice drenches his spine. He barely started having sex and he’s already hurt you. Everything was fine seconds ago and now you’re curled up in the fetal position gasping for air. 
“I’m okay, Bucky, I’m okay.” It comes out breathy but you try to compose yourself for your boyfriend’s sake, needing to comfort him, letting him know he didn’t do anything wrong. You roll over looking at Bucky who looks like a kicked puppy. 
“What did I do?” His voice is thick with unshed tears. You’re the last person he ever wants to hurt. You motion for him to come closer to you. At first he hesitates, not wanting to accidentally hurt you again, but you insist so he follows.
“You tried to go in the wrong hole, sweetheart. That one doesn’t open up as easy.” He whines. Bucky can’t deny that the thought of his cock in your ass hadn’t crossed his mind more than once. But he couldn’t ever find the confidence to ask you. Of course he knows that you would never judge him, but he didn’t know that he wasn’t the only one who was interested.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you, doll.” You cut off the rest of his apology, not wanting to hear him talk badly about himself. 
“It’s okay, sweetheart. A lot of people do that, they just have to prep for it.” That gains Bucky’s attention. Other people want to do the same thing as him? 
“I-well-they do?” Bucky can feel the heat rising in his cheeks. He was terrible at having any conversations about what he wants to do in the bedroom, too afraid to ask.
“Yes, they do. If you want we can try it too. We just need to have some prep beforehand, so you’ll fit inside of me and it won’t hurt.” 
“It hurts you?” There was no way that Bucky would do anything if it would hurt you. He gets off on your pleasure just as much as his own. Why would anyone want to do something that hurts their partner?
“Not when I’m prepared. You have to work that hole open because it’s not usually meant for that kind of stuff. It’s supposed to feel good for the both of us.” That makes his cock twitch. The feeling of your pussy is so different from the feel of your mouth. They both drive him crazy, but the thought of what your ass would feel like has his cock rock hard in a matter of seconds.
“Can we, uh, can we do that?” His cheeks were on fire, never having been so embarrassed to ask for something in his life. He buries his head in the crook of your neck, not wanting you to see his face. The sound of your giggle makes him curl further into you, feeling the vibrations through his chest.
“Of course we can, sweetheart. I’ll show you what to do, talk you through it.” It soothes Bucky, knowing that you’re there to guide him. To show him how to please you. He has no clue what he would do without you.
“Have you done this before?” Bucky knows he has no right to be jealous of any of your exes when he is the one who gets to be with you, but the image of someone else taking that hole annoys him.
“Only by myself, but I’ll show you how to start.” Gently, you push Bucky off of you, making him sit up on the bed. He stares down at you with so much love you almost just beckon him back to you, wanting to keep him in your arms forever. Nonetheless, you spread your legs, showing him your swollen, cum filled cunt.
You see Bucky’s cock bop with a pulse of arousal at the sight. “Oh, I almost forgot.” Bucky watches as you flip over, ass up in the air causing him to moan. You glance back at him with a smirk, but continue on your mission. Opening the drawer to your bedside table, you pull out a bottle of lube, tossing it to Bucky who easily catches it.
“What is this? What’s lube?” You move back into your original position, drawing Bucky’s attention away from the bottle. 
“Well, you gotta get in there somehow. It makes everything slicker, less painful. Open the bottle, sweetheart and put it on one of your fingers. Then I want you to circle my hole with it.”
Bucky whispers a quiet, “oh fuck, that’s so fucking hot,” underneath his breath before popping the cap to the bottle open and putting a generous amount on his finger before bringing it to your rim, circling it just like you said. 
“You’re doing so good for me, sweetheart. Always listen so well to me.” Bucky’s hips jerk involuntarily at your praise, wanting more.
“Can I put one in now, please?” Oh, your baby was desperate. You look right into his eyes and nod, letting him know he can. “Shit, you’re so tight.” You only gasp, the feeling of his finger inside of you is so much different than your own. He slowly pumps his finger in and out, curling it to find your spot. His brows pull together in concentration, not being able to find it. He has to put his ego aside and ask for help, he knows it. “Doll, can you show me where it is?”
“There’s no g-spot in my ass, sweets.” This stops his finger, his head immediately falling, not wanting to look into your eyes. He knows men have a prostate, it was a whole deal back in the day with men getting cancer. So why didn’t you have one?
“But, what about your prostate?” The poor thing. You have to bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing. He doesn’t know any better and he just wants to make you feel good. The last thing you want to do is make him feel bad for something he didn’t know. 
“Oh, sweets, women don’t have them, only men do.” This was a very awkward conversation to have when Bucky’s finger is still in your ass, just sitting there unmoving. Bucky bites his bottom lip, avoiding eye contact with you. Why can’t he do anything right? First he tries to spear you with his cock in your ass and now he is trying to find a damn prostate that you don’t even have.
“M’sorry, doll. I didn’t know, I just thought everyone had one.” Bucky feels the blood slowly leaving his cock from the mortification. You felt your face heat up too, the pressure of his finger a constant reminder that he was inside of you. 
“It’s okay, sweetheart, just move your finger like you would your cock. All you have to do is be gentle and you’ll get the hang of it.” When he finally looks up at you he has the sweetest pout on his lips. Keeping eye contact with him, you trail your hand down your body, meeting his hand where it resides inside of you. Wrapping your hand around his, you guide his movement, slowly trusting his hand until he starts to move it on his own.
“It feels so tight. How am I going to fit in there?” Just the thought of his cock in the hole that is struggling to accommodate one finger has the blood rushing right back into his dick. 
You let out a small moan, enjoying the feeling of Bucky’s finger, much better than your own. “You can add another finger, sweets, just be gentle.” Bucky’s breath hitches, cock desperate to be inside you, but he knows he has to wait. He brings his middle finger to your hole, rubbing it the way he did the first; his first finger still inside you. After a few seconds he gingerly pushes his second finger in, extremely aware of the stretch around his digits.
“Oh fuck, want to feel you around my cock so bad.” Bucky knows that as soon as he puts his cock in you he’s going to cum. It took so long for him to not cum immediately when he’s in your pussy. Even so, he still can’t last more than a few minutes. It’s still a shock to him that he didn’t bust as soon as you took him in your mouth for the first time.
Bucky keeps up the pace with his fingers, ignoring the ache in his cock. When you tell him to add another he eagerly does so, wanting to stretch you out as fast as possible while keeping you comfortable. You see his hips jerking, trying to find relief from the pressure building up in his balls.
“Spread your fingers for me, sweets, stretch me out for your fat cock.” The whine that leaves Bucky’s lips has your cunt throbbing and your ass clenching around his fingers. He does what you say, like he always does, and the moan that leaves the both of you is salacious. “You like that, huh? You like the thought of your fat cock in my ass, sweets?” Bucky can only groan, frantically nodding his head, his dick somehow getting harder.
“Please tell me you’re ready. Need my cock in you so bad, doll.” He looks like he could cum just from the sight of his fingers in your hole. You take pity on him, not being able to stand the thought of him not being inside you any longer.
“Yeah, sweets, just need more lube.” As quickly as he can while still being tender, he removes his fingers and desperately searches for the bottle, squirting more than enough on his cock. Skooching closer to you, he spreads your legs, lifting you up so he can stare at your stretched hole. He places your legs on top of his thighs, looking at you for confirmation before grabbing his cock and lining it up with your entrance.
Slowly pushing in, he can feel the resistance of your ass, yet it was still so welcoming. Bucky’s eyes roll back, his metal hand wrapping around the base of his cock, trying to stave off his orgasm. “Doll, I can’t, fuck, it feels too good, I- oh fuck, m’cumming.” Bucky only had the tip of his cock in your ass. He was vaguely aware that he shouldn’t push the rest of his cock into you so the hand holding the base of his cock moves up his length, jerking his cock to help ride his orgasm out.
“Fuck, sweets, I can feel you filling up my ass. You’re going to make me leak all over the bed.” This only makes Bucky whine more, hips jerking slightly, still trying to stop himself from slamming the rest of his cock inside, but the feeling of his cum shooting in your ass it too hot so you move your hips, trying to take more of his cock, while he’s still cumming inside of you.
“Ohhhh fuuuucck, that’s so good, so fucking good, want to stay inside you forever, keep this tight ass wrapped around my cock all the damn time.” More cum shot out of his cock with renewed vigor. Bucky thought he was about to pass out, fighting off the feeling because there was no way he could miss a second of being inside you. 
His head was thrown back, not able to control his head. You felt your pussy throb, slick leaking down to where his cock rests in your hole, clit pulsing, hard and begging to be touched. You couldn’t help yourself, rocking your hips, fucking yourself on his cock that was still hard but not shooting his load anymore. “You’re so fucking big, sweets, stretching me out so much, never felt anything like it before.” It wasn’t a lie, it never felt like this with any of your toys, the fact that Bucky’s load was supersized doing nothing to quell your arousal.
“Bet I could feel myself if I stuck my fingers in your pussy. Massage my cock through your walls. Bet you would like that, wouldn’t you? Yeah, I think you would.” Bucky had no room to talk about how needy you were when he busted as soon as his tip was inside of you, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care when you’re already cock drunk just from the few shallow thrusts of your hips.
All you could do was moan and nod your head, wanting to feel him everywhere. Bucky had to use his flesh fingers, needing to feel his cock through your pussy. Without preamble, he pushes two fingers into your pussy, immediately curling them to feel his cock through your thin walls. “Fuck, doll, you’re so fucking perfect, taking my cock so well.” 
He couldn’t hold out any longer, pulling his hips back just to slam them back in, the sound of your leaking slick mixed with all the lube around your ass made a sinful sound. Just that one thrust knocks the wind out of the both of you, only to catch your breath to wantonly moan. “How does it feel, doll? How does my fat cock feel up your tight ass?” The slapping noises only got louder with each thrust, each harder than the last. 
“So good, daddy, so fucking good!” Bucky’s hips stutter, cock aching to cum, but he can’t, not yet.
Your moans mixed so sweetly with Bucky’s whines and groans. His fingers rubbing his dick every time he pushes back in. “You’re gonna make me cum again. Need to feel you milk my cock. Need you to milk daddy’s cock for him.” You shake your head, not able to process the pleasure he’s giving you, having already had seven orgasms. “Yes, you can, doll. I need it, need it so fucking bad.”
With his fingers still thrusting in your pussy, his metal hand comes down to rub your clit. Your hips jerk, trying to get away from the cool metal but you have nowhere to run. He fucks you even harder, urging the cum from his balls. You don’t even feel the coil tighten in your belly, overwhelming pleasure sneaking up on you. 
You can’t even scream, eyes rolling back, somehow mustering up the strength to push his hand away from your clit. With your ass clenching so hard around his dick, he can’t hold out any longer, cumming in your ass. He feels the wetness of your squirt push his fingers out, wetting his stomach and making his thrusts just that much easier. 
His orgasm is just as silent, knocking the words right out of him. He can’t even breath, veins in his forehead bulging, face turning red. This one doesn’t last as long, his balls being drained from all the cum he’s shot out in the past hour. Right before Bucky passes out, he sucks in huge gulps of air, trying to come back down to earth. You both lay there, eyes dazed, looking at nothing, covered in cum, lube, and squirt. Neither of you care, you couldn’t even if you tried. You’re the first to speak, voice hoarse from all the screaming you’ve done.
“We’re going to do that again.”
Bucky can only get out one word, “yeah.”
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yanderefarm · 2 months ago
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yandere vampire's pet
cw;; dehumanization?, blood, vampires, humans as pets, yandere, angst, suggestive
this is the last named and drawn oc i have ready. i still have two more concepts in my drafts but they're not finished yet.
this might not show his yandere tendencies as well as characters like ares or emil but he's more of a self destructive type. he's more likely to hurt himself for doing something wrong than he is likely to hurt someone for touching you.
also i had to include the vampire guilt and angst im only human (human with a guilt kink)
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you're a vampire lord in a world run by vampires with a yandere human pet who you found in a run down human farm after he basically threw himself at you. who clung to your leg and insisted he tasted so sweet you wouldn't regret taking in. who you took pity on seeing his scarred neck and decided to take him with you home.
you fed him and brought him to full health in a year. on the anniversary he begged on his knees for you to make him your pet. you complied. you didn't expect the preservation procedure that would allow him to stay with you forever to mess up his brain. or maybe this was always his personality.
he begged you every day to feed on him. he would sneak into your bed chamber and cut his neck to wake you up. he would sit himself in your lap around noon and undo his shirt buttons to give you easy access. if you dared to refuse him he would cry and beg so pathetically.
you made him this way why didn't you want him? he would often cry until you feel guilty for destroying his humanity. you always gave into him. he always got clingier. he tried not to get in your way during work but one day you let him lay his head on your lap and sit in your office quietly all day. so you had to let him again the next day.
if he really pushed too far you would lock him in an old attic room. oh how he sobbed. you would open the door the next day to be met with his bloodshot eyes that held no light. he would kiss your shoes and cling to your legs while he spoke hoarse apologies. you always forgave him and carried him in your arms to eat breakfast.
on the occasions that you two went to a party held by your fellow vampire lords he would always try to show off. you'd buy him new clothes and a new ribbon to hide his old scars. he liked being the most beautiful arm candy for you. it wasn't unusual for high quality pets to get passed around at these parties. at the end of the night he would often find himself in a strange bed, dizzy from being bled and pathetically crying for you.
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your dear pet had spent the whole night being ravaged while you were doing business. his naked and used body laying in the unfamiliar bed, barely conscious. you sighed as you sunk onto the bed, your added weight causing him to shift slightly but he made no noise. usually by now he would be sobbing and reaching wildly for you, those degenerates must have really worked him hard.
you reached out and played with a piece of his hair. "I'm sorry, you poor pathetic creature."
your cold lifeless hands gently brush against his warm cheek. his body finally shifts a little, instinctively pulling away from the cold. you can't help the sad smile that falls on your lips seeing that. you forget how cold you are with how he clings to you at every opportunity. you can smell his blood right now and the tug of your instincts tells you to feed. you forget that you're a monster with how he treats you with such adoration and reverence.
"your life would have been better if you never met me." you push his hair away from his neck, revealing the old scars with fresh wounds scattered among them. your fingers brush against his pulse and he gasps.
you watch his olive eyes blink open slowly, they look almost too heavy to open. you want to gently close them like one would a corpse but the wide smile that spreads across his face stops you. if your heart could still beat you're sure it would have skipped.
"good morning." you said softly.
he used all his remaining strength to wrap around your waist. "y/n..."
his voice is so hoarse and he sounds so exhausted but there's the undeniable happiness. you guide his head to your lap, cold fingers twirling around his hair again.
"was i good...?" his eyes blinked slow again.
"yes. you were so amazing again tonight." you felt the weight of guilt pressing against your chest.
"reward m'...~" you knew he was asking you to indulge in him as so many others had tonight so you just ignored him.
you gently gathered him up in your arms, the top sheet draping over his body. you grabbed his discarded ribbon off the bed before you began carrying him out. the ribbon was sat on his stomach and his weak hands fiddled with it idly. he seemed to be too deep in thought to let sleep overtake him again.
"master... 'm glad you made me...." he nuzzled his head against your chest.
"your father made you." you corrected as you approached your carriage.
"no... y'... made m' y'r pathetic creature." his eyes finally started to close. "so glad m' life is master's.."
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dorabellingham · 2 months ago
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Cuddly boy
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warning: none
characters: jude x fem!reader x baby boy
summary: when he has an important game, but your baby wakes up sick
may contain spelling and translation errors!
It was a Sunday morning when you noticed that Benjamin, normally energetic and talkative, was too quiet. When you checked his temperature, you were startled to see that he had a fever. The little boy, with tired brown eyes and heavy breathing, snuggled into your lap, and you felt your heart tighten. At the same time, you knew that Jude was preparing for one of the most important games of the season and was very focused.
—Mommy, Benji’s body hurts...
He said very quietly, his voice starting to crack.
—I know, my love... Mommy will take care of you, hm? —You stroked your son’s sweat-damp curls.— You’ll be fine soon!
Jude entered the room, wearing his training clothes, and quickly realized that something was wrong.
—What happened, babe?
He asked, looking worriedly at Benji, who was limp in his lap.
—He has a fever, Jude. It's very warm and quiet.
You answered, trying to remain calm, but clearly distressed.
The man bent down and gently stroked his son's head, who slowly opened his eyes and, in a weak voice, murmured.
—Daddy....
Jude's gaze softened, but he also felt the weight of the responsibility of the game that awaited him. It was a difficult decision. He wanted to stay there to take care of his son, but the team was counting on him.
You noticed the conflict on your husband's face and tried to reassure him.
—I'll take care of him, babe. I'll be here the whole time. I know you need to go, and he'll be fine. I promise to keep you informed, I'll let you know if there's a change right away.
But Bellingham was hesitant. He knew you were careful and responsible, but leaving while his son was sick was almost unbearable for him.
—Are you sure, Y/n? I can ask to sit out the game, Carlo will understand.
You shook your head.
—You have to go, Jude. This game is important for you and the team. Besides, Benjamin will be proud to see his dad playing, even if he doesn’t understand much on TV yet.
You smiled, trying to lighten the mood, but inside you were just as worried as he was.
After a few minutes, Jude sighed, kissed your forehead and gave his son a little kiss on the head, whispering,
—Daddy, come back soon, little one. And get better soon so we can play.
When Jude left, you dedicated all your attention to the baby. You called the pediatrician and followed his instructions, giving him medicine for his fever and keeping him hydrated. Throughout the day, Benjamin would go from napping to crying, asking for Jude every now and then, which broke your heart.
You texted Jude with frequent updates, but you tried not to overwhelm him, knowing he needed to be focused. As the game approached, you decided to turn on the TV in the hope that Benji would cheer up a little when he saw his father. Although he didn't understand much of what was happening, he smiled slightly when he saw Jude on the screen, as if he knew his father was there, even from afar. During one of the breaks, you picked up your phone and sent a photo of the little boy watching the game, with a caption:
"We're here watching you. Play for him!"
The night went on when Jude arrived home, exhausted but relieved, he went straight to his son's room. He found Benji sleeping peacefully, with you next to him, holding his little hand.
—You did it, sweetheart. He's getting better.
Jude whispered, smiling as he saw you caressing his sleeping son.
—You really helped from afar, Jude. —You got up from the small bed and hugged the tall man in front of you. —Even though he was sick, he loved watching the game, it even helped him distract himself.
—I just want the best for him, and for you too, and even in the most complicated moments, I feel happy that I was able to help and make our little boy feel better. —He ran his hand around her waist and placed a kiss below her jaw.— I love you.
—We love you so much more, babe.
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mochinomnoms · 11 months ago
Note
The second morning Yuu wakes up after becoming Floyd's mate, they yawn, as usual. Floyd interprets that as "I'm horny," as morays do, and, when Yuu tries to go about their daily routine, Floyd does NOT allow it. In his eyes, that would be letting his mate spend all day pent-up and needing to cum, which would be what a bad mate would do. Floyd won't let himself be a bad mate.
One problem: he doesn't have the energy to bang right off the bat, nor the time to let himself gain that energy before fulfilling his mate.
One solution: eating Yuu out first thing in the morning. And then they're panting with their mouth wide open, so back in he dives! Again, and again, until Yuu is too tired to open their mouth that far. Then, of course, like a good mate, he makes them breakfast, feeds them in bed, and carries them to the bathroom to brush their hair and such. Rinse and repeat for a few days.
One morning, Floyd wakes first (as usual) and smells something unusual. His mate wakes up slowly, from the pain, and doesn't yawn. That's odd. Normally, he'd eat them out a few times to satiate them before facing the day.
So, he does the moray thing and sniffs Yuu, because something smells...off. A little like... blood? So, he starts at the neck and moves down to the collarbone, then the chest, then the tummy, then the crotch, where he stuffs his nose RIGHT against his mate's hole- underwear in the way- and freaks the hell out, because his precious Kokoroebi-chan is bleeding. From there, still panicking, he wraps them in the blanket like a burrito and it's away to the nurse!
Screw the door to the infirmary, it's in his way, and now the nurse has to explain periods to a moray on the brink of tears- nope, wait, he's crying. What do you mean, "every month?!" What do you mean, you, "can't just end them?!" What do you mean, "they're natural?!" He doesn't care! His mate's in pain! They're hurting! Do something, bitch! Wha- detention?! Shut the fuck up and help them!
Meanwhile, Yuu is just now realizing that of course Floyd doesn't know what that is, he's a fish.
After that chaos, Floyd tends near obsessively to his mate, doing everything they ask and everything they don't but need anyway, like food. Yuu decides morays are way better than moray for the simple reason of no human male would be this doting and helpful.
-nightshade anon
GOD YOUR BRAIN IS SO BIG IT HAS SO MANY FOLDS I have so many thoughts about this that i simply do not have the time to put INTO WORDS AAAAAAA
*slams fit into table* the urge, THE URRRRGE to write a fic this!!!!
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girlboypersonthingy · 8 months ago
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Could you maybe write a Sally Face One Shot, where Sal developed a huge crush on reader. But he thinks she doesn’t feel the same way. So he writes a love letter in which he puts no hope in, but then she actually tells him she does feel the same.
Does that even make any sense?😭
Yes…it makes sense and I’m weeping over this omggggg 😭😭😭 bruh this had me screaming and kicking in bed as I wrote it omfgggggg. Sal is pretty smart so I know this mf would write some pretty, thought out, poetic type shit
Notes: gn!reader, established friendship, friends to lovers trope
TW: none, just so fucking sappy and fluffy
Sal x reader- Sincerely Sally 💌
Dear (Y/N),
I want to start by telling you that you’re an amazing friend. I’m beyond grateful we’ve met. You’ve always made me feel so comfortable, so wanted, so important. No words could ever truly explain my feelings for you or the thoughts behind them, but I’m going to try.
Since we met, I’ve seen nothing but good in you and I think you’ve made me good, too. You make me feel good. You make me a better person. I don’t know who I’d be without you, but I know who I want to be now.
I want to be the one on your arm when we walk into a room.
I want to be the one you wake up to every morning and fall asleep next to every night.
I want to kiss you every time we say ‘good bye’ and every time we say ‘hello’ again.
I want to be the one you point to with a smile and say ‘him’ when talking to others.
I want to be the one to hold you when you cry.
I want to be the one to hug you when you’re excited.
I want to go every where you go.
I want to slow dance with you.
I want to head bang with you.
I want to paint with you.
I want to sing to you.
I want to hold you.
I want you.
I love you.
I’m in love with you.
And I’m sorry.
Sincerely,
Sally <3
Sal felt like a total loser while sneaking over to your place, which was just down the street from Todd’s house, and slipping the letter in your mailbox. He felt like he could puke just from writing the letter, there’s no way he could ever say these things to your face. He couldn’t help but hesitate, staring at the mailbox as his heart beat rapidly in his chest. ‘They’re going to hate me. I’m gonna ruin everything. What the hell am I doing?’ Sal thinks to himself, staying frozen in place for a good few minutes as thousands of thoughts race through his mind, shaky hands stuffed in his hoodie pockets.
He jumps a bit when he notices the light in your bedroom flick on through your window. He ducks his head and turns to leave, not wanting to get caught lurking around your house in the middle of the night. As he rushes back home, the panic begins to set in because now he realizes he left it…he left the letter behind. It was done. No turning back. He felt sick to his stomach and like he was already grieving the loss of your friendship.
Sal tip toes back in the house, praying neither Neil nor Todd would catch him sneaking in so late and ask questions. He trudges to his room, shedding his clothes before flopping onto his bed. Sal lays on his side and after taking his prosthetic off, stares at the wall for hours thinking about all the ways this could go wrong, all the ways you could reject him, every excuse and lie he could use later to act like it wasn’t even serious, like it was a dumb joke or something. Finally, after his brain had tortured him enough, he drifts off to sleep just before the sun begins to rise.
~next morning~
‘Holy shit…’ You think as you hold the piece of lined note book paper in your shaky hands. “No way…no way!” A giddy smile grows on your face as you clumsily drop all the other mail you had in your hands, besides Sal’s letter, on the ground and take off running for him. It was early in the morning and you were in pajamas still but nothing could stop you now. His house was not far at all and you were too excited not to immediately run to him and profess your love for him.
You and Sal had been friends almost as long as he has with Larry and Todd. You’ve slowly fallen in love with him just as hard as he has with you- the issue is that you are both dummies and think the other person sees you as a friend and a friend only. You’d find yourself dreaming of Sal, not knowing he was dreaming of you too. You’d absentmindedly doodle his name on piece of paper and blush, he’d find a strand of your hair on his shirt and smile so big under his mask. You two have been pining for so long but both so afraid to wreck the relationship you already have. Eventually, Sal felt like he couldn’t get anything done, couldn’t focus on his studies or the ghosts or even eating throughout the day. His brain was full, flooded even, with thoughts of you. He just had to get it out, he had to say it to you now or he would be haunted by it forever. Unbeknownst to Sal…you felt the exact same way.
Bouncing up to his doorstep with an uncontrollable smile on your face, cheeks aching and turning red, you knock on the door and ball your fists up out of excitement. Finally, Todd answers the door, smiling at you before greeting you. “(Y/N)! What are you doing here so early? We-“ “Sal! I-I’m sorry. I need to talk to Sal.” You interrupt, your crazy smile making Todd chuckle softly just as Neil comes up behind him. “Morning, (Y/N)! Sal isn’t up yet. He’s still-“
You weren’t trying to be rude, you adored Todd and Neil but you were currently completely 100% hyperfixated on the sleeping blue haired poet behind the door at the end of the hall way and you just had to see him immediately. “I-I’m sorry…” You laugh softly as you push past them, sprinting for his door, gripping the knob excitedly before swinging the door open. The sound of the door swinging back against the door frame stirs Sally from his sleep, making him groan and glance over at the doorway. Before he can react to you being in his bedroom, in your pajamas still with bed head and an adorable love sick smile on your face, you’re jumping into his blankets with arms wide open. As you practically belly flop on top of him, he huffs softly then chuckles, groggily blinking at you.
“Uh…morning…” He mumbles just before you place the folded love letter on his chest, giving him a small smirk. His eyes open wider now, his prosthetic eye not in its usual socket. Sal scrambles nervously to sit up more, his breath hitching in his throat. He was so half asleep for a moment there, he had forgotten all about the letter he planted in your mailbox last night. “Oh I uh….yeah uh-uhm-“ Sal can’t seem to move his mouth correctly, can’t focus his brain on the words he wants to say. And he just breaks down even more when he realizes you’re in his bed, still in pajamas with the cutest messiest bed head. He can’t deal with the cuteness and his gnawing anxiety…So you speak up instead.
“I love you too.” You smile sweetly before pulling yourself up closer to his scarred face and rubbing your nose against his. Sal lets out a whiny little hum as he lets his nervous hands very slowly move up to rest on your back, smiling like a sappy dork as he hugs you softly. He’s not sure what exactly he was expecting to happen after giving you that letter but this is most definitely the best case scenario. “Let’s just…fucking kiss already.” You say with a cheeky smile, eyes half lidded as you lean in closer. Sal sucks in a breath before letting his eyes close along with yours, pursing his lips out as his hands move up your arms and to your cheeks. His big palms caress your face so perfectly, his thumbs sliding back and forth over your skin as you lock lips, gently moving your mouths together as soft sighs leave both of you.
As his hands pull your face closer, your hands wander up and down his bare arms, legs tangled up in his blankets along with him now, you couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh against his lips. “I’m glad you finally told me…that letter was so beautiful.” You whisper, lips gently ghosting against his now. Sal keeps his eyes closed but smiles brightly. “I wrote 153 of those letters.” He confesses, face burning bright red. “No you didn’t.” You scoff, looking down at him, finding this fact hilarious and also adorable and flattering.
“Oh yes he did!” Todd and Neil are leaning in the open doorway. Oops…you got so excited you didn’t shut the door behind you when you ran in. “Proof!” Neil laughs out loudly as he points to Sal’s trash can in the corner of the room, overflowing with balled up pieces of paper. You laugh as you look over, Neil and Todd laughing along with you. Sal drapes an arm over his face, trying to hold back his flustered smile and embarrassed expression. “Stoopppp.” He complains before you’re standing and playfully glaring at the two boys in the doorway. “That’s enough teasing. Shoo!” You grin at Todd before shutting the door on them and turning back to Sal.
“153, huh? Wow. That’s some dedication, lover boy.” You climb back into his bed, sitting cross legged beside him. “Why didn’t you just tell me in person, Sal? Would’ve been way easier.” You scoot closer to him and run your fingers through his tangled hair. “Uh, I totally disagree. I nearly had a panic attack just putting that letter in your mailbox and then having to walk away from it.” A laugh rings out from you as you toss your head back. “Ha! So, What? You’re afraid to say you love me but not afraid of ghosts or demons or cults?” You taunt him before leaning over to rest your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes for a second. “You’re strange. And I love that about you.” You rest there with him for a moment before a fantastic idea hits you, making you sit up and gasp excitedly.
“Can I read the other ones too?!” Before Sal can answer, you’ve jumped up and ran to the rejected pile of love letters in the corner. “No! (Y/N)! No no nononononono!” Sal jumps up and runs to tackle you, his face blushing so red from his ears and down his neck. You laugh loudly as he wraps his arms around your waist and tries to pull you away from all the other embarrassing things he wrote and considered saying to you. “They’re…in the trash…for a reason!” He laughs and huffs as you you push forward, trying to reach even just one crumpled up piece of paper. “Pleeaaassseeeee?” You plead but your strength leaves you as Sal tickles you and has you cackling on the ground instantly.
And the next 10 minutes are spent wrestling with him on the floor of his bedroom while laughing like drunk idiots and occasionally pressing a kiss to the other’s lips. Eventually, you do get ahold of a few of the discarded love letter drafts and they are either like Shakespeare poetry type shit, or so fucking dorky and corny, full of puns and shit. Larry probably tried to help him with that one lol
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ro-is-struggling · 10 months ago
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Breakfast In Bed || Clark Kent x Reader
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Based on THIS and THIS requests
Summary: Being married to a superhero was bound to have some tough times, you knew that well when you accepted Clark's marriage proposal. However, the last few months were becoming too difficult for you as he was having trouble balancing his daily life and his responsibilities as Superman. Intentional or not, he was neglecting you and you were getting tired of waking up alone every morning. But just when you thought you couldn't take it anymore, Clark surprises you with breakfast in bed and a talk that reminds you why you love him so much.
Warnings: a little angst, but mostly fluff, fem!reader
English is not my first language
Word count: 1800
Notes: I don’t know why but I always have the need to write Clark like the most romantic and adorable man in the world, so enjoy! Consider this as my valentine gift to you
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You knew your relationship with Clark would be complicated from the moment you learned about his special abilities. You always knew he was far from ordinary, you just thought his greatness had more mundane roots —his kindness, his empathy, the way he cared about everyone and how he always surprised you by remembering even the smallest details, all the normal things that made you fall in love with him. You'd be lying if you said you weren't surprised to learn the truth, but it also explained a lot —the way he sometimes seemed to be able to be on two sides at the same time, his incredible strength and great sense of hearing. It made you worry about the kinds of dangers he faced every day as Superman, but it also made you love him even more. So you decided that you would stay by his side knowing full well that your relationship would be far from normal. 
Through it all, you managed to make things work. Clark was very good at keeping his identity secret to protect you. And you were great at pretending that his long absences didn't bother you, making him feel better when he was late for your anniversary dinner after a year of marriage. To be honest, it wasn't always that terrible. You did have plenty of moments of blissful intimacy, away from the outside world and the dangers it presented. And it was wonderful. You loved spending quality time with your husband, even if it was just sitting in silence working to meet some deadline for work. Just knowing he was there with you was enough to make you feel happy, loved.
The problem you had now was that he was spending less and less time at home. He came home late every night, exhausted after a long day at work —both as Clark at the Daily Planet and as Superman helping people in danger. And in the mornings you were lucky if you got to have breakfast together. He always tried to make time for you, to spend a romantic evening at a nice restaurant or curl up on the couch to watch a movie, but somehow work always got in the way. If it wasn't Perry calling him to cover an urgent story for the paper, it was a person in danger crying out for Superman. 
It was frustrating because you felt you couldn't say no. Clark would always ask your opinion before doing anything, looking at you with those beautiful blue eyes while assuring you that if you said no, he would stay where he was. But how could you say no when a child in danger cried for their hero or a tragic accident required his presence? There was no way your conscience would let you live with that decision.
You knew his work was important. Both inside and outside the newspaper, he helped people. People in vulnerable situations, people in danger, people who needed to be heard. It was truly noble of him and you admired him for his determination to make the world a better place. That was the biggest reason why you didn't say anything, but the truth was that you missed him.
You missed coming home from work and finding him waiting for you, asking you how your day had been the moment you walked through the front door. You missed going to sleep next to him at night after spending hours sharing work stories over dinner. You missed the warmth of his body wrapping around you in the cold mornings and hearing his voice raspy with sleep wishing you good morning when he still had his eyes closed. In the last few weeks you were lucky if he made it to dinner. Going to sleep alone and waking up alone in the mornings had become your routine. And you hated it.
That morning was no exception. When you opened your eyes you found the left side of the bed empty. Your arms clung tighter to Clark's pillow, inhaling his scent to make you feel less lonely. It was supposed to be his day off, but you wouldn't be surprised if Perry had called him last minute or some catastrophe had gotten him out of bed early. You had barely seen him last night. Clark had arrived late when you were already asleep and you only managed to mumble his name in the dark and hug him when he lay down next to you, and now he wasn't next to you when you woke up either. The day had barely begun and you already wanted it to end.
Letting out a long sigh, you decided it would be best to get up and do something to distract your mind. Clark wasn't there and it wasn't going to do your mental health any good to stay in bed crying all morning. So you dragged your feet lazily to the bathroom, going about your morning routine before leaving the room to prepare breakfast.
Only the moment you opened the door you were assaulted by the smell of freshly brewed coffee. You frowned in confusion, wondering if perhaps you had mistakenly left the coffee maker running all night. However, when you entered the kitchen you discovered that it was no mistake. Standing in front of the stove was Clark, flipping pancakes and cutting up some fruit while humming to himself. 
You couldn't help but smile as you watched him move. He still had his pajama pants on and his hair was a mess. You took advantage of the fact that his back was turned to you to admire him silently as a warm and fuzzy feeling spread through you. The sadness disappeared from your system as you watched him carefully stack the pancakes, taking his time to decorate them with little pieces of fruit just the way you liked. He looked adorable, bent over the counter as he arranged breakfast on a tray, ready to be taken to bed. You wanted to run over and hug him, but before you could move from the doorway Clark turned, finally sensing your presence.
"What are you doing there? You're supposed to be sleeping." he said and you could swear he sounded disappointed to see you there. "I wanted to surprise you with breakfast in bed."
You walked into the kitchen. Just a couple of steps and you were in front of him, wrapping your arms around his naked torso and resting your head on his chest as you hugged him. Clark reciprocated right away, planting a kiss on the top of your head as he breathed in the scent of your hair. 
"I'm sorry," you pouted, lifting your head from his chest to look at him. "We can go back to bed if you want."
Clark answered you with a kiss, his lips caressing yours gently. It was a quick kiss, but it still managed to take your breath away. 
"What's the occasion?" You asked as you broke away, stealing a strawberry from the pancakes and popping it into your mouth. It wasn't your anniversary or your birthday and it wasn't Valentine's Day, so you wondered what had prompted Clark to make such a gesture to you. 
"I wanted to apologize... I know I haven't been around much and I know it's not easy for you, even though you are too nice to tell me."
"Clark..." You wanted to intervene, but he silenced you by resting his index finger on your lips.
"I need you to know that you're important to me, more important than anything else." Clark slid his hand up to your cheek, his fingers caressing your skin gently. He gave you a warm smile, losing himself for a moment in the bright light of your eyes. "Do you remember what I told you the day I asked you to marry me? I said with these powers I could see the beauty of the universe, the flowers blooming on the other side of the planet or dying stars exploding in brilliant light thousands of miles away, and yet, the day I meet you I knew I had to be with you because for the first time in my life the only thing in the universe worth looking at was right there in front of me. That is still true. It will always be true, angel."
"Damn it, smallville!" You let out a giggle, feeling the tears building up in your eyes as you remembered that day —one of the happiest days of your life. You hated the way he always knew exactly what to say to make you feel better, it made being mad at him really hard.
Clark smiled at you, his blue eyes shining with love in them as he gently wiped away a tear that had escaped and rolled down your cheek. "You're the most important thing in my life and I'm sorry I haven't been showing it these past months. I promise you I'll be better in the future. I'll try harder to make this work, to make us work."
"I know this is hard for you too, baby." You said, letting your hands fall from his shoulders to his chest. You knew Clark wasn't neglecting you on purpose. You knew it hurt him as much as it hurt you to be away or to miss a date you had been planning for a long time. Balancing his normal life and his superhero life had always been one of his biggest challenges. 
"I know you love me and I know you care about me, you don't have to doubt that. I knew things were going to be difficult sometimes the day I said yes. I understand how important being Superman is to you, it is who you are and I love you for that too. I just... miss you sometimes, but I'm sure we're going to find a way to work this out. We always do."
"I swear if I could love you more I would explode." Clark smiled at you before taking your face in his hands again and pressing his lips together. You couldn't help but smile into the kiss, feeling that familiar warmth fill you inside. It was the comforting warmth of love, of the happiness it gave you to be in Clark's arms after so much loneliness.
That was the Clark you missed so much. The loving husband who wrapped his arms around you and kissed you until his lips were tired. The one who showered you with compliments until you were flustered. The one who didn't hesitate to show you how much he loved you with sweet words or cute details. It had been so long since you had the chance to be alone like that, sharing such an intimate moment, that you almost forgot how good it felt when Clark kissed you or how safe you felt when he put his arms around you. It was a beautiful feeling that you could only describe as the touch of true love. You never wanted to forget it, you were willing to do anything not to lose it.
"I love you too." You murmured against Clark's lips, giving him a quick peck before pulling away from him. "Now, about that breakfast..."
Clark let out a chuckle. "Go back to bed, I'll be there in a second."
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bagofshinyrocks · 11 months ago
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The Baby is Sick
Prompt: The baby (and the two of you) somehow got a cold. Simon wants to make sure you get enough rest and decide to take care of the baby when he wakes up in the middle of the night. [Requested by @ertepla]
Featuring: Simon "Ghost" Riley x GN!Reader
Word Count: 1.2k
Warnings: none
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You weren’t sure who brought a cold into your house. If it was someone besides you or Simon, you cursed them and wished them every single misery. If it was either you or your husband, you had no strong feelings. As you two were already in purgatory.
Because the baby was sick. And when baby was sick, he decided to make everyone else equally (or more so) miserable.
You and Simon were always covered in snot and saliva, as your son had not yet learn to not sneeze or cough directly in someone’s face. The baby wasn’t eating as much, which scared the shit out of you. No one was sleeping well.
“I know, little man, I know,” Simon soothed, as your son whined and flailed in his arms. “I know, it’s not fun. But it’s gonna help.” 
He was wrestling a nose aspirator into the second nostril. You didn’t blame your kid, having a tube that sucks all the snot out of your nose real fast didn’t sound real comfortable. But you know what was worse? Cleaning the snot out of the tube.
“See? You can breathe better.”
Simon bounced the boy a little, and he soon stopped crying, though still a bit grumpy with his dad. He started breathing through his nose and accepted his bottle again. You almost cried in relief.
“He’s okay, lovie,” murmured your husband, siddling up next to you and wrapping his arms around the two of you.
Your son looked up at the two of you with sleepy eyes. Simon’s brown eyes fluttered behind the boy’s lashes, and his hold on his bottle got looser. You helped him angle his bottle into his mouth and Simon rubbed his stomach.
He got through three quarters of the bottle before pushing it aside, and you considered that a victory.
“Time for bed, little bug?” you cooed, gently raising him up and walking to his nursery. Little burps and sleepy noises as you went and 
While you changed the baby and wiped his face of snot, milk, and drool, Simon refilled the humidifier and covered the windows to hide the fact the sun was still up. Any time your son seemed a little sleepy, you two would put him down for bed and then try to get as much sleep for yourselves.
With the care of disabling an explosive, Simon lowered the boy into his crib and tucked him in. You watched silently from the hallway and he tiptoed back to you and closed the door.
“Time for bed,” he whispered to you.
“It’s only 7 PM.”
“I know.” He beamed. “Aren’t I good husband? We get to go to bed early.”
Fifteen minutes later, you two were tucked into your own bed. Heads elevated with pillows, cups of water nearby, and a humidifier running quietly. The chest rub and a generous amount of petroleum gel on your lips and noses made the two of you shiny.
“Nighty night, baby,” you murmured.
“G’night, honey.”
Simon jerked awake at the first squawk. You hadn’t even moved by the time he was stumbling into the nursery and leaning over the crib.
“Wha’s wrong, little man,” he asked in a gravelly, sleepy voice.
The boy’s face was red, and tears and snot dripped anew. Little hands reached for Dad, and Dad picked him up.
“You’re alright.” Pats on the boy’s back and gentle bounces. “Dad’s here. Dad’s gotcha.” Small fingers burrowed into the collar of his hoodie and a small splotch of drool and snot darkened his shoulder. After a few moments of silence, Simon leaned the boy back and asked him what was up.
He held up his little fist and opened and closed it. Hungry.
Simon kissed the boy on the forehead and walked to the kitchen. “Just like Uncle Johnny. Always ready for another bottle.”
Simon expertly made half a bottle with one hand, while the little man sniffled and watched. A tissue to his nose helped a bit, and Simon decided against another round with the nose aspirator till the morning. Well, sunlight morning. All of you had slept from 7 PM to 1 AM.
More kisses and your boy started his bottle while Simon made himself a snack. With a sandwich and a boy in each hand, he sat on the couch and turned on the TV. 
While the baby was transfixed by dancing fruit and sucking down his bottle, Simon could eat the whole sandwich. And “rest his eyes” for a few minutes.
A particularly dangerous sounding burp woke him again and he immediately grabbed a towel and started burping him, turning his back to the screen.
“Christ, that was a wet one. Get any on ya?”
No response as the boy stared at the blueberries and pineapples.
“Yeah, I’d keep that to myself, too.”
After almost five minutes, the boy’s head sat heavily on his shoulder and his brown eyes could barely stay open. Another diaper change, more rocking, and then placing him in the crib like an active bomb.
Success.
Simon changed his hoodie without bothering to look at the damage (he could smell it) and crawled back into bed with you.
The bags under your eyes had lightened in your sleep, and your nose looked less raw. He kissed the tip of it gently and fell back asleep with ease.
Simon woke up again around 10 AM, to small hands grabbing at his nose. He opened bleary eyes to the smile of an elated infant.
“Dadadadada.”
“Mm, tha’s me.”
The mattress dipped a little as you sat down.
“Morning, handsome.”
The little man crawled on top of his dad’s chest and sat down, playing with his nose and the strings of his hoodie.
“Morning, sexy,” chuckled Simon, guiding your face to his. A sweet kiss, joined by the baby, who shoved his face against yours. He didn’t like being left out.
“Guess who drank a full bottle this morning?”
“Didja really?” cooed Simon, poking the boy’s tummy. “He had half a bottle at around 1.”
“He woke up at 1?”
Simon squeezed the little socked feet. “Yeah, he was hungry. And needed a change. He went back down quick after that.”
You kissed your husband’s forehead. “Thank you for waking up, baby.”
“Mm. You needed some more sleep.” A nip at your lip until you leaned back in for another longer kiss. “Can’t have my sexy thing staying sick.”
“I’ll get him tonight then.” He scrunched up his face and started to protest. “Ah. I can’t have my sexy thing sick either.” You squeezed the muscles of his upper arms and waggled your eyebrows.
The baby squawked and broke the sultry eye contact between you and your husband. Then he giggled as he and his father’s chest went up and down with a laugh.
“Oh trust me, little man, you’ll be an only child for a while.” Simon poked the boy’s tummy again. “Don’chu worry. Sneezing straight into my yawning mouth has made sure of that.”
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Posted: 2024 January 17
Thank you for reading! Enjoyed this? Check out my other works!
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