#Sunday special breakfast
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cakeyouareoh · 4 months ago
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💕
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ceramini · 16 days ago
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loser! jake BUT readers all of a sudden nice to him and jake is confused (and turned on ofc) maybe special occasion or smthn.surprise ne queen !!
⁺𝅄 𓊆 ❀ 𓊇 just so u guys know.. this will be my last jake fic/drabble before I retire him :(( i write for all of the members and I didn’t think people would request or even like my loser!jake stuff this much, so he WILL make a retrurn on my blog, I just want to share my work for other enha members as well <33 pls understand
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pair loser!jake x hot!reader ͡ ͘◡ ꫶᳝᳜᳝᳜᳝᳜৯ tags reverse cowgirl, cockwarming ✿ scene jake forgot their third anniversary, again. He’s bracing for punishment, but instead, you’re suddenly super nice to him. Like, really nice. Confused, flustered, and lowkey turned on, Jake starts to wonder: is this mercy… or a horrible horrible setup? ────── library ⊹ ࣪ click to join taglist
like + reblog appreciated <3
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Jake wakes up to the smell of bacon.
Which is weird, because he’s the one who usually forgets the pan and sets off the smoke alarm, and you usually sleep in on Sundays like it’s a constitutional right.
He blinks, dazed and warm and puffy-eyed, as your voice floats into the bedroom.
“Jakey,” you call softly. “Wake up baby. I made you breakfast.”
Jake sits up slowly. His hair’s a mess. His eyes are crusty. He’s half-hard under the blanket because of a dream he already forgot, and his first thought is:
Are you possessed?
“Baby?” you peek your head in, grinning.
Jake squints. “Wait. Did I die?”
You giggle. “No, dummy.”
“Did you die?”
“No.”
“Then why are you—” he looks down at the tray you’re carrying, eyes wide, “—bringing me pancakes?”
You sit beside him on the bed and brush a kiss to his cheek. “Because I love you.”
Jake flinches like you slapped him.
“You do?” he says, eyes watery.
You roll your eyes fondly. “Obviously.”
He leans against you, still confused but clinging like a koala.
Jake is an affectionate idiot, he clings without realizing, kisses without thinking, forgets his keys in your purse because “you’re the safe place.” But today, something about you is different.
You’re not just being kind, you’re being intentional.
You kiss him before he leaves the house.
You help him find his shoes even though they’re right where he always leaves them.
You pack his lunch. Write a little note.
And when he comes home after hanging with Sunghoon, there’s candles on the table.
Candles.
Jake stops in the doorway, staring.
“…Are we summoning something?”
You turn, wearing that adorable outfit, the one he kept staring at the day you tried it on in the store, too stunned to speak, until you went “should I not get it?” and he panic-yelled “NO GET IT GET IT.”
You wore it.
For him.
Jake gulps.
“Did I do something right?” he asks. “Or did I do something wrong and this is the part before you kill me?”
You walk over and wrap your arms around his waist, laying your cheek against his chest. “You did everything right.”
Jake stands frozen. His whole body is stiff, except for one very obvious part.
You notice.
Of course you do.
You giggle. “You’re so easy.”
Jake whines. “You’re being so nice to me. It’s turning me on. That feels unethical.”
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Dinner is perfect.
You give him his favorite part of the steak.
You laugh at every one of his terrible jokes.
You even rub his knee under the table like you want him.
Jake’s not used to being the pretty one in the relationship. You’re hot. So hot. It makes no sense to anyone that you date a guy who once cried during an animal shelter ad and accidentally set his microwave on fire trying to make instant ramen.
And yet.
You treat him like he’s the prize.
Jake wants to cry.
And then…
You give him a gift.
Wrapped. Bow and all.
Jake tears it open, confused, and finds:
A framed photo of you two, from your beach trip where Jake got sunburned and you made fun of his farmer’s tan.
A pressed flower from the first bouquet he gave you. He thought you threw it out.
A tiny hand-written book titled: “101 Reasons Why I’m Glad You’re Mine”
Jake blinks down at the cover.
“I—I don’t—” he stammers.
And then, finally, his eyes flick to the calendar on the wall.
The date glows like a punch to the gut.
Anniversary. Three years.
Jake forgot.
You didn’t.
“Jake,” you say softly, sitting beside him on the bed. “You okay?”
He looks like you kicked his puppy.
“I’m the worst boyfriend ever.”
“No you’re not.”
“I am. You did all this. And I didn’t even get you, like— like a card. Or a rock I found outside. Or a dumb doodle or a weird TikTok link or, anything.”
You rest your hand on his.
Jake’s bottom lip wobbles. He sniffles.
“It’s okay,” you say gently. “You always forget dates. I kind of expected it.”
That only makes it worse.
“You knew I’d forget?” he says, heartbroken.
You give a small, sad smile. “It’s not about remembering. It’s about trying.”
Jake stares at you.
And then, without a word, he kneels.
He presses kisses to your thigh. Your knee. Your hip.
Your stomach.
“Let me make it up to you,” he murmurs. “Please.”
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He worships you.
That’s the only word for it.
Jake moves with reverence. He kisses you like he’s trying to apologize with his mouth, long, wet kisses that leave you gasping.
When you slide his shirt off, he fumbles a little with yours.
“Can I see you?” he whispers. “Please?”
You nod.
Jake groans the second your top’s off. His hands are greedy, trembling, desperate. But still gentle.
He takes his time.
So much time.
“Turn around?” you ask softly, cheeks warm. “I wanna ride you. That way.”
Jake’s brain short-circuits.
“Reverse— um what is it— um?”
“Reverse cowgirl?.”
Jake whines, already tugging his pants off. “I don’t even know if my heart can take that.”
You straddle him, slow and teasing.
And when you sink down, his hands fly to your hips.
Then hesitate.
Then slowly, tentatively, cup your ass.
“Can I?” he whispers, voice wrecked.
You nod.
Jake lets out the dirtiest moan you’ve ever heard.
“Your ass is insane,” he babbles. “I’m—fuck—I’m gonna die. This is my punishment. You’re punishing me.”
He doesn’t even thrust.
He just holds you there, buried inside, cock so deep and warm that it feels like you’re melting together.
“P—please,” he breathes. “You’re so warm— n’so pretty. Like a goddess. Like an avenging angel with the softest—oh my god—you clenched.”
You giggle.
“I’m sorry,” he moans. “I know I forgot. I know I don’t deserve this. But I love you. I love you so much I feel it in my spine.”
You lean back slightly, rocking your hips once.
Jake chokes.
“I’ll never forget again,” he gasps. “Swear to god. I’ll tattoo it. I’ll set calendar alerts. I’ll carve it into my desk.”
You bounce once.
Jake screams.
You’re both laughing by the time he flips you over and kisses you breathless, trying to say everything with his hands and his mouth and his body that he forgot to say with words.
And after, when he’s soft inside you, buried to the hilt, and you’re both tangled and warm and sticky, Jake whispers:
“Next year I’m doing the most. Be ready.”
You hum, nuzzling into his chest. “Can’t wait.”
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🪷 ─── @gxwesn @gyarumindd @somuchdard @ssanhwatto (join the taglist guys..)
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fiastomatocheek · 4 days ago
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MOMMY, WHAT IF…?
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pair: dad!luke hughes x f!reader
genre: fluff, family, domestic.
warnings: none! just heaps of family fluff and heart-squeezing sweetness.
summary: it’s pizza-for-breakfast sunday, and lucy is ready with her usual table-side interrogation. but this time, her questions about her parents’ love story take a tender turn. from wondering if she’d still exist to asking whether luke cried when he saw you in a wedding dress, lucy unknowingly reminds her parents just how magical their story truly is.
fia’s note: maybe some of you might be getting a little tired of all the lucy ideas but truthfully, i’m still very much obsessed with dad!luke and lucy. actually, i don’t think i’ll ever stop writing this series 😭 i could probably write 100 parts and still have more to say. but if you’re feeling a little over the dad!luke content, feel free to skip this one and hopefully i’ll see you in another fic soon! thank you so much to everyone who’s been reading and supporting, it means the world.
tagging team fia ! — @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @dancerbailey3 @mashmashi @hopefulsuitcasemoneyzonk @kell9rs @alwaysclassyeagle @nokiaholland @macka @silvenyy @voidvannie @itsonlyaddi
fia’s masterlist | join fia’s taglist | yap & fic
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Pizza-for-Breakfast Sunday is a sacred tradition in your house that had started as a joke and quickly become a favorite.
Luke stood barefoot, sweatpants, carefully sliding slices of breakfast pizza onto plates. You were leaning against the counter, still in your comfy pjs, watching Luke multitask with an ease.
And at the island sat Lucy, your brilliant, soft-hearted daughter, wearing a bunny robe and holding her ever-present stuffed rabbit under one arm.
She had that look. The one that meant she wasn’t just here for pizza.
Luke noticed it too.
“She’s loaded up,” he whispered to you, smirking as he brought over the plates.
“I can see the questions forming.”
“She’s been rehearsing in the mirror again, hasn’t she?”
“Oh, 100 percent.”
Lucy cleared her throat dramatically.
“Snoopy. Mommy. I have a few questions.”
There it is.
“Go on, baby,” you said as you took your first bite.
She tilted her head. “Mommy, what was Nana like when you first met her?”
You smiled softly, leaning back in your chair.
“She was so warm. Nana hugged me like she already knew me. She smiled and said, ‘Finally! I get to meet the girl who turned my son into a walking love song.’”
Luke groaned. “It wasn’t that bad.”
“It was sweet,” you said.
“Nana asked Mommy questions about my family, work, and then she pulled me aside and said, ‘You’re very special. Don’t let him get away with too much.’”
Lucy giggled. “That sounds like Nana.”
Luke chuckled. “It is Nana.”
Then Lucy leaned forward, serious as a judge.
“Mommy… did you pick Snoopy from a line of daddies?”
You blinked. “A line of daddies?”
“Like, they were all standing in a row, and you walked past each of them like, ‘Hmm, nope. Hmm, nope. Oooh, this one! This one looks like he gives good hugs.’”
Luke nearly choked on his juice.
You reached over to ruffle Lucy’s hair.
“No line of daddies, baby. I didn’t pick him from a parade. I picked him from the whole world.”
“Why?” she asked.
You looked over at Luke, “Because he was different. Daddy didn’t just make Mommy laugh, he made me feel safe. He looked at me like I was magic. He showed up for me, even when things were hard. And everytime I tried to imagine a future without him… it just felt wrong. He was always it for me.”
Luke reached under the table and gave your hand a gentle squeeze.
“And Mommy was it for me.”
Lucy sat with her chin in her hand, nodding slowly.
“Okay. That makes sense.”
Then, with zero warning, she asked, “Mommy, if you hadn’t married Snoopy… would I be someone else… Lucy?”
You blinked. “That’s a big question for a six-year-old.”
“I am six and a half,” she said proudly.
You smiled. “If I hadn’t married Snoopy, there wouldn’t be a Lucy at all. Not you, not the way you are now.”
“But then where would I be?”
Luke stepped in, his voice soft.
“You’d still be somewhere… maybe just waiting. But we’re really glad we found eachother when we did. Because you’re the best part of us, Luce. We couldn’t have dreamed of anyone more perfect.”
Lucy looked thoughtful. Then she whispered, “Good, I like being me.”
“We love you being you,” you said, pressing a kiss to her cheek.
She beamed. Then turned to Luke with renewed energy.
“Snoopy. Did you ask Nanna and Pappa before you married Mommy?”
“I did,” Luke said proudly.
“I asked both. Nanna squealed, and Pappa gave me a serious handshake and said, ‘Good choice. Don’t screw it up.’”
Lucy gasped. “Pappa said ‘screw it up?!’”
You and Luke burst into laughter.
“He was joking, I think,” Luke added quickly. “Mostly.”
Lucy smiled wide. “Did you cry when Mommy walked down the aisle?”
Luke blushed. “A little.”
You raised an eyebrow. “A little?”
“Okay, a lot. I wasn’t prepared. Mommy was so beautiful and smiling at me like I was the only person in the world.”
“What about you, Mommy?” Lucy asked. “Did you cry?”
You nodded. “Only a tiny bit. When I saw Daddy crying first.”
Luke grinned. “I started it.”
Lucy hugged Button tighter. “That’s so romantic.”
Then, with a dramatic pause, she delivered the next blow.
“But… Snoopy… what if Mommy never said yes to you?”
You and Luke stay stilled for a second.
“Then I’d still be out there,” he said gently.
“Trying again. And again. Everyday. Until Mommy saw how much I loved her. Until she said yes. Because I never wanted anyone else. Just Mommy.”
Lucy clutched her bunny to her chest. “Snoopy, you’re lucky she said yes.”
“I know I am,” Luke whispered, brushing your hand again beneath the table.
Lucy sighed dramatically.
“Okay, okay. That’s enough for today. I do have three more questions.”
You smiled. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. But I’m saving them for next Pizza Sunday.”
Luke leaned in. “Should I be nervous?”
“Hmm… Extremely.”
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starmocha · 6 months ago
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Sunday Reset [Sylus/Reader ★ 4348 words ★ Masterlist ★ Series Index ★ AO3] Lazy morning in bed with Sylus and your daughter. A/N: It’s my birthday today, but I guess I’m giving everyone a present instead. 🥹 I know Sylus’ myth had wrecked us all completely, so I’ve brought the fluff. This is a standalone one-shot and not meant to follow any existing series I have. But I won’t stop you if you want to think differently lol
“Hmm…”
You opened your eyes, blinking a few times before your sight adjusted, seeing the empty space in bed next to you. Still fuzzy minded, you wondered where Sylus was, since normally on the weekends, he would adjust his sleep schedule to match yours. Absentmindedly, your hand skimmed down your stomach, pausing when you felt the slight curve, causing you to breath in quickly. You pulled the cover back and stared down at the small bump that had formed just recently.
You were close to entering your second trimester, and your belly was already rounding out again. Even though this was your second pregnancy, it didn’t make this moment any less surreal.
While you and Sylus had discussed in the past about your future family, you both were not actively pursuing it, but also not taking any precautions. When you began having symptoms, you felt like your world had stopped. A few pregnancy tests later, and your suspicion was confirmed. Delighted, you had planned the perfect way of revealing the news to your husband.
You had sent a little messenger birdie his way, tasking her with a very important message and a polaroid she needed to pass onto him.
You still remembered the moment. You had recorded it, after all, having the foresight that this was a memory you wanted to preserve forever. You had recorded your two-year-old daughter scampering down the long hallway to her father’s study, a look of complete urgency on her face, feeling proud that her mother believed she was capable of delivering such an important news to her father. In her tiny hand was a polaroid she had grasped firmly, determined to not let it slip away.
Barging into his study, the toddler had rushed over to her father, exclaiming, “Message for you!”
Sylus had laughed, always delighted to see his daughter. “Oh?” He had humored her, eyes twinkling with joy and mischief when he had seen her serious expression. “Now who sent this messenger birdie my way?”
“Mommy!”
He had laughed again, the richness of it still ringing in your ears even now. You recalled seeing him peeked up at the wide opening of his study now, undoubtedly noticing your presence outside, but he had said nothing, his entire attention was redirected to the little girl who had climbed onto his lap.
“What is Mommy’s message then?” he had asked, giving a tender stroke of his daughter’s cheek. She giggled.
“Mommy…Mommy…said…she’s…having…a bun.”
You remembered stifling a giggle, already guessing how your short message was going to be butchered completely.
Sylus had looked confused. “She’s…having a bun? For breakfast?” he had questioned, utterly lost by his daughter’s message.
She shook her head furiously. “Oven! In her oven!”
“…she’s making buns?”
His daughter had frowned and shook her head again before shoving the polaroid she held into his face. “Mommy said to give you this!”
Sylus’ face had gone completely white, his breathing stopping instantly in that moment as he looked at the polaroid of five pregnancy tests lined up neatly on the bathroom counter. All positive.
“…Bun in her oven,” he had repeated, clarity seemingly settling in now. Slowly, his face had broken into a grin. His head dropped, and his chest rumbled with laughter. The little girl sitting on his lap looked at her father confused, wondering if he had gone crazy. Sylus playfully pinched her cheek, making her giggled and whined. Sylus’ voice had dropped to a whisper, almost as if he was conversing with the little girl about a special secret, “A baby…Mommy’s having a baby?”
The girl had nodded excitedly.
“You’re going to be a big sister?”
“Yes!”
Sylus had looked overjoy. “The best big sister,” he then said, leaning down to kiss his daughter’s cheek. He had looked up, his excitement instantly recorded by the phone camera indiscreetly held up outside his study. He sighed in resignation. “Sweetie, enough. I know you’re there. Care to confirm this very important message for me?”
You had turned your phone off, ending the recording. You stepped into his office, smiling sheepishly as you ran a hand over your still flat belly. “We’re having another baby,” you had said plainly, but there was enough weight in your words that made both you and your husband overwhelmed with indescribable happiness.
Sylus had sighed, a look of pure bliss on his face. He adjusted his daughter and patted his lap. “Come here,” he had said, “Let me hold you.”
His head dropped again, face nuzzling his daughter’s. “Both of you.”
Your mind returned to the present, the sweet memory lingering another moment as you remembered the way Sylus’ large hand had rested on your then flat belly, covering it completely. He was so ecstatic. You had seen the way his eyes gleamed with joy at the very idea of you going through another pregnancy again. He had certainly enjoyed it the first time around, you recalled wryly, giving your belly a rub and remembering how he had doted on you, unable to keep his hands off of you.
You sighed and turned to look at the empty space next to you again, but before your thought could proceed any further, you suddenly felt a wave of nausea hitting you out of nowhere. You covered your mouth, stumbling out of bed and racing for the bathroom, and just in the nick of time, you managed to hurl straight into the toilet, groaning as you clutched the sides. Once you felt it was over, you slowly gotten up and went over to the sink to wash up. You looked down at your belly and frowned, your breathing a little labored now.
You steadied your breathing again, sighing in defeat.
This baby was not going to make it easy on you. The first pregnancy had seemed like such a breeze with minimal morning sickness or any of the typical symptoms. This one, however, you were feeling anything and everything from the morning sickness that seemed to come at all hours to intense fatigue that robbed you of any energy to do anything.
Sighing again, you walked over and turned on the shower, letting the water warmed up as you went about brushing your teeth first.
About twenty minutes later, you left the bathroom, changed into new comfortable lounge clothes and feeling more refreshed than earlier. You walked down the hallways to your daughter’s bedroom, opening the door a crack to check in on the little girl. You could hear quiet sniffling and whimpering.
“Baby?” You made your way over to her bed, sitting down just as the little girl sat up and crawled into your arms, whimpering quietly. You felt her forehead. It was warmer than the night before. You and Sylus had noticed she had seemed to be coming under the weather the previous night, having little energy and no appetite for her dinner.
“I want Daddy…” She sobbed into your chest, her small hand grasping the fabric of your shirt to rub between her fingers.
You rubbed the back of her head soothingly, giving her a kiss. “Okay, let’s go find Daddy,” You answered gently, slowly getting up. You balanced her on the side of your hip as you carried her out of the room. She clung to you tightly like a little koala bear, and you soothed her with your soft, gentle voice as you walked down the long hallways.
On your way, you noticed Mephisto flying overhead outside Sylus’ study.
“Mephie,” You called out to the mechanical crow, “Is Sylus in his study?”
The crow cawed in the affirmative and led you to the room. The door was opened ajar, and you pushed it open further, peeking in to see Sylus at his desk on the phone. He noticed you and motioned you in as he wrapped up the call.
“Daddy…Daddy…” Your daughter sobbed harder and twisted in your arms, turning to hold out her own arms to reach for her father.
Sylus ended the call and stood up to walk over to you two. He immediately took his daughter into his arms, the little girl’s head rested on his shoulder as she clung to her father tightly. He rubbed her back soothingly before glancing over to you with a look of concern.
“She seems worse than last night,” he commented.
You nodded and stepped closer. “I think she’s coming down with a fever.”
“Poor little birdie,” Sylus said, and stroked the back of his daughter’s head gently. “Come on, let’s get you back into bed, Little Miss.”
“No!” The girl clung tighter to Sylus. “I want Daddy…and Mommy…”
You both laughed in resignation.
“Okay, okay,” Sylus conceded immediately, “You have both Daddy and Mommy…”
He glanced down at you again. “And how are you feeling?”
You looked at him confused.
“Your morning sickness,” he clarified.
You rubbed your small bump and forced a smile. “I’m okay.”
Sylus saw through your attempt to deflect, and he immediately reprimanded you. “Don’t lie to me,” he said, “I know this pregnancy hasn’t been easy on you. Be honest.”
You sighed guiltily, and nodded in reluctance. “I had a bit of morning sickness earlier,” you confessed. “Is it supposed to be this difficult this time around?”
He looked at you sympathetically, before pulling you into his embrace, holding both you and his daughter close to him. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I wish there was a way for me to lessen this burden on you.”
You sighed and snuggled closer, settling happily into his warm embrace. “I lucked out the first time, so this time I’m getting to experience what I had missed out…twofold,” you said, attempting to lighten the mood with a bit of self-depreciating humor. It seemed to work, because Sylus also cracked a smile, picking up on your intention.
“Why don’t I put my two little ladies to bed to rest,” he suggested, already leading you out of his study.
“Well, she needs to rest, but why do I have to, too?”
Sylus looked at you pointedly. “Haven’t you been feeling fatigued lately?”
“Well, yes…”
“And you said work has been exhausting?”
“Also yes…”
“And it’s a Sunday…”
“Yes…?”
Sylus huffed in amusement at your confused expression. “Why don’t we have a lazy Sunday in bed as a family?” He looked over at his daughter sniffling against his shoulder, her face rubbing against him in discomfort. He rubbed her back again to soothe her. “I think we could all use a little extra rest this morning.”
“Fine, you have a point,” you answered with a smile. His suggestion did sound appealing to you, not minding a lazy morning in bed, especially with the people you loved. You blinked in surprise when he handed you your daughter. You balanced her on your hip again, soothing her when she started to fuss again at the loss of her father’s embrace.
“You two get settled in bed,” Sylus said, “I’ll be there in a moment.”
You didn’t question him and just nodded, as you both turned to head in opposite directions. As you headed to your bedroom, you heard wings flapping, seeing Mephisto following you. You smiled.
“Gonna rest with us as well, Mephie?”
The crow cawed happily.
You laughed. You opened the door to your bedroom, smiling as Mephisto flew in and settled on his perch. He preened his feathers for a moment before he seemed to doze off. It was easy to forget sometimes that he was a mechanical crow, you mused, since his behaviors were so lifelike.
“Sweet dreams,” you told the crow as you walked over to the bed and placed your daughter in the middle before you settled in as well, turning to rest on your side. You propped your head up, leaning against your hand while your other free hand stroked your daughter’s head soothingly.
“Mommy…”
“Yes, baby?”
“Where’s Daddy?”
“Daddy has to do something really quick,” you explained, “He’ll be back in a moment. Try to rest for a bit, my darling.”
The little girl moaned softly, clearly in discomfort. She curled up close to you, resting against your small bump. You held her close and sighed. You always felt so helpless whenever she was sick, feeling like you never could do enough to assuage her illness. If you could take away all of her pain, you would do it in a heartbeat.
“Shh, shh, it’ll be okay,” You whispered, holding her close. It was just one child right now, but you wondered how overwhelmed you would be when the baby arrived and you were dealing with two young children. You sighed again, knowing that was a bridge you would cross in your immediate future.
Footsteps sounded from outside the room, and a few seconds later, you saw your husband returning. Looking up, you were surprised to see Sylus returning to the bedroom carrying a tray. On it was a little pink sippy cup with playful green dinosaurs imprinted all around and orange juice inside it. Alongside your daughter’s drink was a steaming cup of ginger tea and a plate of peeled and cutup apple slices. Sylus set the tray on the nightstand as he sat down on the edge of the bed, taking your daughter into his arms. The little girl settled against her father, fussing softly. He stroked her hair comfortingly.
“You should both have a little something for your stomachs,” Sylus explained, carefully handing you the cup of tea. He grabbed the sippy cup and nudged it closer to his daughter, but she pushed it away, whining quietly in annoyance. His tone was gentle, but still firm, explaining to the sick toddler, “You won’t get better if you don’t drink this orange juice, baby.”
The girl whined again before reluctantly letting her father nudged the sippy cup into her little hands. She barely held onto it, making Sylus grasped it before the cup fell on the floor. He gently pushed the cup closer, watching as his daughter took little sips.
“Good girl,” he praised before glancing over at you. His eyes darted to the cup of tea in your hands. “You, too.”
You laughed at his firm tone. “Will I get the same treatment if I whine?”
His eyes twinkled mischievously. “If I recall correctly,” he started, his tone dropping low briefly and his eyes darted to your slightly rounded belly, “The last time I gave you ‘special treatment’…was how you ended up in this current situation.”
You blushed prettily under his impish gaze before hissing quietly, “Not in front of our child.”
“Children,” he corrected you with an insufferable smirk. He reached over to the plate of apples, grabbing a slice as he carefully fed it to his daughter. The girl took little bites, chewing slowly, unaware of her parents’ conversation.
You rolled your eyes and took a sip of your tea. “You are lucky you are holding her right now,” you said, tone half-serious, but inside you were melting at the sight of him taking care of your daughter so diligently, “Otherwise, I would be beating you with this pillow.”
He laughed, believing you completely. The sick little girl on his lap slumped against him, giving in to her exhaustion as she fell back to sleep. Picking her up, Sylus carried her over to his side of the bed, and as he settled in, he placed his daughter down in the center with both you and him on either side of her. You picked up your daughter’s hand, holding onto it comfortably.
“Poor little thing,” you said. “We should give her some medicine after she rests for a bit.”
Sylus felt her forehead with the back of his hand, and nodded. “Just a little cold,” he said, “A little rest and some medicine and soon she will be back to wreaking havoc at Onychinus’ base.”
You giggled and settled back down in bed. You and Sylus both watched as the little girl slept, her soft breathing heard in the silence. She curled up closer to you again, resting as near to you as she could in spite of your small belly you now carried. You smiled, feeling a strong sense of protectiveness as you held her close.
“Motherhood looks gorgeous on you,” Sylus’ soft murmur broke the silence. He smiled at you lovingly.
You smiled back. “Fatherhood doesn’t look that bad on you either.”
He shook his head, laughing quietly. He pulled you and his daughter closer, the both of you resting within his protective embrace. “Another baby…” he said softly, “Another baby…I still can’t believe it. There’s another baby growing inside you.”
You peered up curiously. “Having any regrets?”
“God no,” he answered back, pinching your cheek playfully.
“Ah—”
He stole your lips, kissing you long and slow. There was a soft hum of approval in the back of his throat when he heard the little gasps and whimpers from you in between the kisses. When he pulled away from your lips, he continued upwards, placing a kiss on the tip of your nose, and then pressing his lips to your forehead. You felt the lingering tingles of where his lips were, your cheeks pinking under his knowing gaze.
“I love you,” he said with a sigh, “Thank you for this. For everything…”
“I didn’t do anything,” you answered feebly with a pout.
Sylus hummed softly. He stroked your cheek. “Sweetie, you have given me so much and more.”
His hand drifted down, resting over your belly. It lingered there as his eyes wandered from his sleeping daughter and over to where his second child was now growing in your womb.
“Do you want a boy this time?”
“Hm?” Sylus looked up distractedly, meeting your curious gaze. You repeated the question, and he huffed quietly, shrugging. “It doesn’t matter,” he answered. He gave your belly another gentle rub. “I’d be happy with a boy or another girl.”
You weren’t aware that you were pouting at his response, at least not until he pinched your cheek again, laughing as he asked teasingly, “What? Are you upset by my answer?”
“A little…” you admitted as you rubbed your cheek. You gave him a slight glare, but he seemed unbothered, his smile widening a little.
“Why? Did you want me to say a boy then?”
You paused, pondering, before grinning at him. “Wouldn’t you think a little mini-you would be adorable to have as well?”
“A mini-Sylus?” he questioned, astonished. He smirked, his curiosity piqued. “Then, sweetie, what does a mini-Sylus look like in your eyes?”
“Hmm…” You considered his question carefully before answering. The contemplative expression you wore garnered a smile from Sylus, clearly amused by the level of importance you had bestowed upon his impromptu question. A moment later, you spoke, “He would be confident…fearless…attentive…”
Sylus watched with amusement as you listed off the numerous traits you had in your mind. He hadn’t truly expected you to give this such a serious consideration, but the way your eyes softened as you spoke sincerely filled him with warmth. He leaned over, kissing you suddenly and stopping you in the middle of your listing.
“Ah—Sylus?”
He hummed softly and pecked your lips again really quick. “Sorry, you just looked so cute, I couldn’t help myself,” he said, but his tone sounded anything but apologetic. He continued to hum softly, his hand stroking down your side, as he was also mindful of the sleeping child between the two of you.
“Boy or girl,” Sylus started, his softened gaze resting on you, “I truly would not mind either one.”
You closed your eyes as he leaned in closer, placing a kiss on your forehead. You looked at him again, smiling as he looked down at his daughter sleeping in the middle, his hand brushing aside the flyaway hair in the toddler’s face. He brushed his thumb against her mouth, wiping away the little drool that dribbled at the corner.
“This time next year,” you began, catching his attention once more, “There will be two little ones sleeping in our bed with us.”
He chuckled in amusement, seemingly delighted by the prospect. “Then it’s a good thing this bed is big enough for them—and more.”
“More?”
“Only if you want more,” Sylus added, amused by your curious gaze. He smiled sympathetically, his hand reaching out to stroke your cheek in comfort. “I know this pregnancy has been a little rougher than your first one.”
Your hand overlapped his, the gentle warmth emanated from him carried away your worries. “Well, that is a thought to consider,” you said, adding, “I mean we certainly make beautiful babies, so saying ‘no’ right away would be a shame…”
“And we have plenty of fun making them,” he added with a suggestive tone and lift of his brow, making you blushed.
“Oh, you—”
He leaned in, seizing your lips again, stealing your words and breath in one quick instance. When he parted, his mouth lingered near, his voice carrying shades of sensuality. “And you always look so, so fucking gorgeous pregnant with my baby.”
Your heartbeat skipped, breath a little heavier than it was seconds ago. Your mind struggled to stay in the moment with him, still gripped by his intense kisses and the desirous gaze he had. “L-language,” you chided him, his immediate soft chuckles made your heart pound faster.
“Sorry,” he said with absolutely no remorse heard in his voice, “I couldn’t help it. You know how I feel about you pregnant. Besides, she’s still asleep…”
“Toddlers are like sponges, you never know what they’ll repeat,” you added firmly, though you couldn’t help but blushed at the memories of your first pregnancy and how much he had worshiped you in that state, treating you like a fertility goddess, revering the changes your body had gone through to carry his baby. It seemed history would repeat itself this time around as well, knowing Sylus was only going to fall even deeper in love with you. The look in his crimson eyes was both gratitude and desire, his restraints only held back because you two were not alone in this moment.
“I concede then,” he answered, adding mischievously, “For now.”
Your daughter turned in her sleep, curling up close to Sylus this time. He laughed softly, gently pulling her closer to him, his large hand resting lightly on her small back. He gazed down fondly at his daughter, and then he looked at you, smiling as he watched your hand skimmed over your belly.
“Thank you,” he repeated again, “For this beautiful life you have given me.”
“Sylus…”
“You must know very well that you and the children are my whole world,” he said, his voice warm and his eyes reflecting his deep devotion to you.
Before you could respond, your daughter stirred in her sleep, waking up. She rubbed her eyes sleepily as you and Sylus both looked down at the sick toddler with unruly hair now.
“How are you feeling now, my little birdie?” Sylus asked, rubbing her cheek gently.
“…tired…”
You both chuckled at the lackluster single-word response.
“That’s alright,” you told her, kissing her cheek, “Sleeping will also make you feel better. Would you like some more juice, my darling?”
She nodded sleepily and you reached over to the nightstand to grab the sippy cup. You helped her drink before setting the cup back in its place. The little girl rubbed her eyes and mumbled sleepily again, “Daddy…lullaby please?”
He huffed in amusement. “But Mommy doesn’t like Daddy’s singing…”
“Oh! Don’t make me be the villain!”
Sylus laughed off your glare. “Who said my singing voice was like nails on a chalkboard?” He leaned down and kissed his daughter on top of her head. “At least someone in this room has a well-defined taste and sincere appreciation for my lovely singing voice.”
The little girl pouted, not understanding the conversation between you and Sylus. She looked at her father pleadingly, tugging on his sleeve. “Daddy? Please?”
“Ask Mommy,” Sylus said, smirking at how you had widened your eyes at him, not believing that he would turn on you like this.
Your daughter immediately looked to you, lips quivering. “Mommy…please?”
You sighed and nodded, relenting to your daughter’s little plea. “Daddy can sing you a lullaby…”
You glared at Sylus again, seeing how tickled he was to see you cornered like this. You mentally made a note to get back at him at another date, but for now, you and your daughter both settled back down in bed as Sylus sang.
“Hush, little baby, don't say a word…Papa's gonna buy you a mockingbird…”
The little girl let her heavy eyelids drift close again, turning to face you once more. You stroked her head, lulling her into a deeper sleep as Sylus sang her lullaby to her.
“And if that mockingbird don't sing,” Sylus continued, his own head resting on his pillow, his eyes shifting back and forth from his daughter to you, “Papa's gonna buy you a diamond ring…”
The morning dragged on with afternoon just a few hours away. The soon-to-be family of four slumbered peacefully in bed together. Sylus’ soft lazy singing filled the silence, the warmth in his voice wrapped around you, filling you with a gentle peace.
How peculiar, you thought, finding his singing voice actually…pleasant to listen to today. Perhaps there was a reason your daughter was so fond of her father’s singing. There was a strong sense of security you felt from hearing his voice, knowing he would never let anything or anyone harm you.
You looked at him through sleepy eyes, the fatigue from your pregnancy claiming you once more. You smiled, seeing his own eyes drifting close as he yawned in between the last few verses before slipping off to sleep, the lullaby ending abruptly. Between the two of you, your daughter snored softly, snuggled close to you and the baby you carried in your womb.
You let your eyes close, falling deeper into sleep, the sweet dream you had unmatched by the wonderful life you had with your beloved.
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reidrum · 3 months ago
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hi lil headcanon: can’t stop thinking about how Spence sees the worst of humanity and lots of violence for his job so when he comes home to you he is extra gentle and savors your goodness and cherishes doing mundane things with you- tidying up and listening to his music, going on walking dates, holding you close literally always- he is extra protective of his beacon of peace and hope in humanity :,)
this is so post prison spencer coded
(i yapped again im so sorry)
following his release spencer reid would struggle to return to normalcy for some time after his whole life was turned upside down for months but the pockets of peace he creates with you he finds are essential to his well being.
your spencer reid wakes up early on the rare saturday mornings he has off making sure you’re still sleeping and sneaks off to the kitchen to make breakfast that will soon wake you up in a few hours with the wafting smell of waffles and coffee. he dons a ‘kiss the chef’ apron you ironically got for him that he unironically treasures deeply as he finishes plating the spread on the tray and bringing it back to the room.
maybe on saturday mornings you always go to the farmers market and you always buy a fresh bouquet of flowers because having them on sunday makes for a good omen for the coming week. and even on the saturdays spencer reid can’t be there you send pictures of the bouquet you picked out that day and it makes his heart so so happy. his favorite thing is when he tells you the significance of different flowers and they show up in the bunch the week after. if one day you don’t go to the farmers market or there just isn’t a bouquet in the house that day spencer reid absolutely cannot have that and so he goes out on his own curating the perfect bouquet of flowers because he’ll be damned if you don’t have your flowers!
i think he would also encourage you to ramble as much as he does because he loves hearing you talk, even if he knows nothing about it or it doesn’t make sense. like for someone who loves info dumping and telling people cool facts, spencer reid is much quieter around you because hearing you talk especially about things you love is so so special to him. he would trade his voice like ariel in the little mermaid if it meant he could hear you talk on and on about anything and everything for the rest of his life.
and like, because this is spencer reid there will be a time that something happens to you because of what he does (alexa play peace), kinda similar to matt and kristy when she’s held hostage at her work or derek and savannah when she gets shot. hotch has to physically keep him away from the scene because he’d be so close to losing it and risking everything by going solo but who can blame him when you, the other half of him that the prophecies say you’d spend your whole lives searching for but he was fortunate and grateful enough to find you so soon, could get hurt. he would harbor the same guilt hotch feels dating anyone after haley because after maeve spencer reid refuses to let anything take you away from him, but here he is putting you in a situation he caused because an unsub he put away has a grievance to settle.
and eventually you’re safe and back in the apartment with spencer reid and he’s just. in crisis mode. because he genuinely is not sure if he can handle something like that happening to you again. but he’s not even sure how to prevent that from ever happening. and he’s so proud of you for how brave you’re trying to be but it’s breaking his heart entirely to watch you do that for him, and he’s so sure he does not deserve your grace at all. so it’s not even a hard decision when he decides to increase his university teaching hours and step away from the bau just to be with you more.
because now you and spencer reid have more time to make flower bouquets at the farmers market every week. he’s bucket listed every museum up and down the eastern coast and fully intends on finishing it before the year ends. he carries a little trial size vial of your perfume in his satchel whenever he misses you a little too much, even when you’re just in the other room. spencer reid wants nothing more than to live a simple life with you, and after the world has dealt him too many bad cards, he’s more than grateful to get to hold these little moments of you close to mend his bruised heart.
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itsnesss · 2 months ago
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𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐲 | max verstappen × fem!reader
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summary | in a quiet bar in monaco, you unexpectedly meet max, who finds peace and love in your ordinary, grounded life. max shows you that to him, you're anything but ordinary
warnings | fluff, romance, emotional
word count | 0.6 k
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🖇 more mv1 🖇 f1 masterlist
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You never planned on falling in love with someone like Max Verstappen.
In fact, your life had always been the opposite of an Instagram fantasy. You woke up early, made instant coffee, took public transport to work, and came home tired, repeating the same cycle of grey days. Until, for reasons you still don’t quite understand, Max walked into your ordinary world. No cameras. No Formula 1. No fans or flashing lights.
Just him. And you.
You remember that first night. You, sitting at the bar in a tucked-away spot in Monaco, and him, wearing a cap pulled low like he was trying to hide from the world that knew him. He talked to you like you were the only person in the room, like you weren’t just a normal girl living an ordinary life. He made you laugh. And when he walked you home, he didn’t say goodbye—he said, “Can I see you tomorrow?” Like it was the most natural thing in the world.
And it was.
He took you to places that didn’t show up on Google Maps. Laughed at the memes you sent him at two in the morning. Watched movies with you even if he fell asleep halfway through. Cooked for you—badly, but with effort. And every time he held your hand, he did it like it was the most extraordinary thing he’d ever done.
And you, someone who never cared about racing or speed, started to understand why he did it. Because with him, everything felt like a heartbeat. A rush. An unexpected curve.
But there was fear too.
Fear that one day he’d leave. That your world would go back to being grey. That you were just that: a regular girl, a pause in his shining life.
One afternoon, while Max was asleep face down on your couch, exhausted after a race with one hand hanging off the side like he was still dreaming of driving, you looked at him with your heart in your throat. You loved him. So much it hurt.
And you whispered:
“I’m nothing special, Max.”
He stirred. Opened his eyes, groggy, and when he saw your expression, he sat up.
“What did you say?”
“That… I’m not special. You could have anyone. Models, actresses, people who don’t have to Google what ‘pole position’ means.”
Max stared at you for a moment. Then he leaned in and cupped your face in his hands.
“You’re not ordinary,” he whispered, like every word was a vow. “Do you know what I feel when I’m with you? Peace. Reality. Life. You don’t make me run. You make me stay. You make me want more Sundays with you than podiums.”
Your eyes filled with tears, and he wiped them gently with his thumb.
“If you think you’re ordinary, then the whole world’s confused. Because to me… you make everything make sense.”
You hugged him. Like you were trying to stop time.
And he stayed. Not just that night.
He stayed through seasons, flights, wins and losses. He texted you from every country. Sent you flowers for no reason. Learned how to make your favorite breakfast. He introduced you to his world, but never let it change yours.
And that’s how someone like you—someone who thought they were living an ordinary life—ended up being the one constant in the life of someone who had everything… except you.
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caramelkoo · 9 months ago
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warm as you
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pairing : Jungkook x reader
genre : established relationship, boyfriend jungkook yayyy.
summary : Jungkook gives you a little surprise which causes you to fall more in love with him.
warnings : Jungkook is nervous as hell, he's so in love with the oc, oc can't help but baby him, slight smut, fluff, lots of kissing <3, act of service and quality time as love languages.
a/n : hey angels, I saw the latest episode of "are you sure?!" and couldn't help but write this little piece. Jungkook is such a roundie. I hope you enjoy and let me know how you like it. xoxo.
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
To be very honest, you've never been a morning person but when you're with the love of your life, your boyfriend, you can't help but eagerly wait to sleep next to him and wakeup next to him. He has a way of waking you up with kisses on your smooth skin and fingers through your brown locks.
Your eyes want to flutter open but you know once you're awake, he will stop and that's something you don't want. Jungkook's lips graze yours lightly causing you to break into a slight smile. His lips peck your forehead gently following with your cheekbones, your closed eyes, your nose, your chin and lastly the hollow of your neck.
"I love you, sweetie. Good morning, i know you're awake." he whispers and much to your surprise, he knows you've been pretending to sleep.
you chuckle and open your eyes, looking at him with so much love. His eyes sparkle like stars above you. No one has loved you like this and honestly, you don't want anybody else to do so. The bond that you share with your boyfriend is different and special.
"Morning"
He caresses your left cheekbone, a lazy smile on his face. It's soft and everything pure.
"What do you wanna do today?" you ask him.
"Is wanting to be in your arms an option?" he nuzzles his face in your boobs. Purring like a cat.
"I don't think that's a bad idea" your hands rub his back up and down, up and down.
"God, I love hugging you. You're so warm, so cozy. It's my own personal heaven" Jungkook puts his whole weight on you, being careful now to crush you in the process.
He makes you feel safe, protected whenever he wraps his arms around you. Being physically affectionate has not been hard for you when it came to him. Physical touch, as much as you hate to admit, is hard for you to receive. You've been uncomfortable with people touching you plenty of times but with Jungkook, it has never been the case. You don't know why but he's had a certain warmth to him ever since you met him. It radiates and lights you up.
"I know, baby. I love hugging you too."
You both stay like this for a while before he grunts and lifts his face from your neck.
"Want me to make you some coffee?" he asks because he knows you can't function throughout your whole day without starting it off with a cup of coffee.
One thing about Jungkook is he's going to notice. He notices the tiniest of things and he's made a mental note of making you coffee every morning just the way you like it.
"Yes, please. I want something sweet to go with it too."
"Pancakes?"
"Perfect. You're the best" you kiss his cheek twice before he gets himself up and walk outside towards the kitchen. Before he opens the door, you call him out.
"Yeah, sweetie?" he looks back, shirtless and you try not to say something entirely different and nasty.
"I love you, too" his lips turn upwards before he leaves the room.
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
After you and Jungkook finish your breakfast, he suggests reading together in the hall. Since it's a slow Sunday morning and you both have nothing else to do, you agree. Quality time with him is another thing you cherish the most. He knows that when it comes to receiving, it's one of your preferred love languages.
Since the day you let him know this tiny piece of information, he has tried his best to make it happen for you. Reading, baking, pottery classes, trying out new recipes, even letting you do his makeup, he has done it all.
"What are you reading?" Jungkook asks after picking up a book for himself and sitting beside you on the couch.
"I have been wanting to read this romance book for a while. You're reading thriller again?"
"You know it's my favorite" indeed it is. The thriller section on the bookshelf gives it away.
For the next twenty minutes or so, you both read quietly. Jungkook eventually puts his head on your lap demanding your hands in his hair. You chuckle lightly before giving in and run your fingers through it.
"Your hairs are so soft"
When you look down upon him, he has closed his eyes and gotten rid of the book.
"It's your shampoo"
"My shampoo? You've been using my shampoo?" you're a little surprised but not offended. On the contrary, you find it a little cute.
"Sweetie, it smells like vanilla and I was planning on using it just once but then I got a little obsessed. Couldn't help it." he whines.
"You're adorable, you know that?"
the hall gets filled with your laughter. You continue running your fingers through his hair while also reading your book and just when you think he has gone into a deep slumber, he gets up walking towards the washroom.
"Wh- WHERE ARE YOU GOING?" you yell behind him.
"GIVE ME A MINUTE" he yells back. He didn't go in there to jerk off, did he? you decide to leave him be and resume your reading.
Fifteen minutes later though when he comes outside and stands before you, you let out the biggest scream ever. It startles him.
"Is it that bad?"
"Jungkoo-", "what-", "I'm-"
He stands there with his long hair no more on his head, instead he has cut his hair in more of like a bowl cut. Yes, you screamed but not because you don't like his hair, it was because he looks cuter than ever like this. You were just a little surprised, that's about it.
"Seriously, is it that bad?" the nervous look on his face causes you to take few steps forward and hug him so tightly you're not sure if he can even breathe. His arms wrap around you in return. Hugging you has always calmed him.
"I love it"
"What was that, sweetie?"
"I said, I love it" you tell him again. You break the hug and look at him.
"Really?" his expression has turned into a an excited one now.
"Yes, baby. It makes you look so cute but can I ask why? why did you suddenly decide to cut your hair?" you can't help but touch his new hair.
"To be honest, I have been thinking about chopping them off for a while. I know you love my long hair so it was holding me back." he places a kiss on your temple. "I wasn't sure if you would like it."
"Jungkook, I loved your long hair but I wouldn't ever stop you from doing what you want. I love everything you love and you can always grow them back, right?" you smile up at him.
You loved his long hair a little too much. You had asked him to let his hair grow further and he had happily agreed to but you would rather poke your eyeballs out before you refrain him from doing something he has wanted to for a long time. You're just a little upset due to the fact that he even had to be nervous before doing so.
Jungkook nods, "Right. So you like them?"
"Absolutely" you kiss his nose.
"God, I could eat you right now." He hides his face in the crook of your neck and groans.
"Hmm, maybe later".
Later that night when you lay next to him he doesn't let you sleep before he buries his tongue inside you and asks you to grab his hair. When you do, you get reminded of his long hair but his tongue moving in a circular motion inside you makes you forget about it all. You moan, you scream and when he takes your nipples in his mouth while pushing two fingers inside you, you come so hard you're sure you see stars. You hear him whisper "You're mine" before you pass out hoping he'll wake you up the next morning again with his kisses and touches.
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kingkaisen · 1 year ago
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𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐇𝐘 and won’t ever admit it. He tried to hide his true nature behind a facade; his incredible strength and fake, cocky personality convinced everyone he knew that he was an outgoing and extroverted individual.
But if they saw the way the world’s strongest sorcerer blushed around you, they’d know his secret.
Because one thing Satoru couldn’t hide — and he tried, desperately — was the shade of pink that dusted across his warm cheeks whenever you smiled at him. Or waved at him. Or looked in his direction.
How embarrassing it was.
After all, you were just a friend, a comrade at best, and yet, the grown man couldn’t hide the fact that he was crushing on you like a lovesick high schooler. The slightest brush of your arm against his had him ready to whip out his phone, call Kento, and excitedly say, “guess what just happened? Y/N’s arm touched mine!”
However, it wasn’t just Satoru’s blushing problem that revealed his crush.
As much as he wanted to blame it on his reddening face whenever he was in your presence, he was also a stuttering, rambling, stammering fool as well.
One day, he approached you while you were strolling along the sidewalk outside of the Jujutsu Headquarters.
“H-Hi Y/N, do you . . . um . . . do you wanna have lunch with me? I’m-I’m free this Saturday if you’re free. But if you’re busy then, uh, maybe Sunday? Unless you’re busy all weekend. May-Maybe next weekend then? Damn, I’m busy next weekend. We, uh . . . could grab lunch earlier in the week. Or breakfast. Or dinner. I like brunch too.”
Even though you said yes, Satoru sat on his shower floor after that, letting the warm water rain down on him as he sulked in the aftermath of his embarrassment.
Satoru wouldn’t let his shyness get in the way of pursuing you, though.
He had to build up his courage by training extra hard, accepting additional special grade missions, and taking long walks to clear his head — but he was determined to find the confidence to kiss you on the cheek after your lunch date.
And, after walking you to your door after your afternoon out together about a week later, the tall, blushing man fidgeted with the car keys in his hands nervously, leaned down, and softly pressed his lips against your cheek.
When you responded to that by suddenly kissing his lips, his face turned as red as a tomato. He lost the ability to speak completely.
He might have forgotten how to function like a normal human being in that moment, but he knew one thing: he was madly in love with you.
And that the cop pulling him over on his way home would certainly give him a ticket for running a red light, because he forgot the meaning of streetlights for a second. He was too busy thinking about your lips against his.
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lovemepartly · 11 days ago
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how they fall in love ˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊
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featuring: kwon jiyong, choi seung-hyun, kang daesung
warnings: none :)
a/n: i love writing these sm omg
choi seung-hyun ⋆⭒˚.⋆
it takes seung-hyun a while to fully admit he loves you and to realize it. he's naturally a reserved person and closes himself off, but the moment he lets you into his life, he knows you're special.
it’s a quiet friday evening, and you’re laying against his chest, his arms wrapped around you. you’re telling him about something - maybe about your childhood or your relationship with your parents, and he realizes how much you trust him. how much he trusts you. how it’s been so long since he’s been this vulnerable with someone. and he can’t help but cut you off, the words falling from his lips naturally as he murmurs, “i love you.”
he shows his love through simple, everyday actions. making you breakfast, just the way you like it. buying your favorite flowers. letting you keep his sweaters. holding you in his arms as you fall asleep, his fingers tracing small patterns in your skin.
as soon as he tells you he loves you, it's like the look of love never leaves his eyes. it doesn't matter what the moment is - whether you put on his favorite dress for a date or you've just come home from work after an exhausting day, his eyes say it all.
kwon jiyong ⋆⭒˚.⋆
jiyong falls hard and fast. he probably knew he loved you within only a month - maybe even weeks - of dating, but he doesn’t say it right away, not wanting to take things too fast.
he realized he was in love with you in a seemingly mundane moment. it’s sunday morning and you’ve slept over at his place and wake up early to make breakfast for the two of you. you wake him up with a soft kiss on the forehead and as his eyes flutter open, the smell of food wafting into the room and your beautiful face smiling down at him, he knows.
he’ll write hundreds of love songs about you. most of them, he doesn’t even release. some of them, he doesn’t even share with you. but the ones he does, are beautiful. he’s so shy about it too, burying his face in his hands as he presses play, but the lyrics are enough to make you tear up.
he’s even more clingy after he tells you he loves you. he tries to spend every waking moment with you, but you love it. he’ll say those three words so often - every morning, before hanging up every phone call, and whispering it to you at night while you’re asleep in his arms.
kang daesung ⋆⭒˚.⋆
when daesung falls in love, it hits him like a ton of bricks. everyone around him can see that he loves you, in the way he lights up when you're near and talks about you like you hung the moon. it just takes him a while to finally realize it himself.
he swears that one day he woke up, and he just knew that you were the one for him. it was a quiet evening and you were waiting in his house until he came home from work. when the door finally opened, he came running in immediately to you to tell you about a new deal that he landed for zip. the way you were so excited for him, maybe even more than he was, was the moment he knew.
daesung shows his love through physical touch, whether it's through forehead kisses or holding you in his arms until you fall asleep. daesung knows you inside and out. when you're in a particularly stressful situation, he'll instinctively hold your hand, gently tracing circles over the back of your hand with his thumb.
as soon as daesung tells you he loves you and you say it back, it's like your future is cemented with him. there's no more "you and him," now it's "we." he throws it into sentences casually - "we should go on this trip," "we should cook this together," "we'd be such good parents." he doesn't even realize he does it.
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lemonlover1110 · 10 months ago
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𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬
Satoru Gojo
[Chapter 29] First Day of School
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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader
*Making a very important poll soon (aka in a few minutes)❤️
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“Does this look okay?” Ren walks into your room with the cutest outfit imaginable. Today is the day: his first day of kindergarten. You’re nearly in tears every time you look at him, not being able to believe that your baby boy is ready to go to school. He’s so excited for it, and you don’t want to shatter it by crying 
“You look so handsome, baby. Go show your daddy.” You tell him, knowing that Satoru is downstairs trying to make Ren’s bento box perfect. You need a moment to let yourself cry and compose yourself before you drop him off. He’s just a baby, why do you have to send him to school?
Ren nods in response, and walks out of your room to go to where his father is. You take a deep breath, trying to contain yourself. It’s his first day of school, you’re not sending him off to war. It’s just hard to accept that your child is growing up so fast.
The baby that you were just carrying in your arms is going to school. You have to gather yourself, you can’t be a mess in front of Ren who is already scared of what awaits him. Satoru is going to comfort him while you figure something out.
“Hey, buddy. Are you ready?” The biggest smile comes to Satoru’s lips as he sees his son walk towards him. Satoru tries to finish the special lunch that he’s been set on making for Ren, before his son gets to him.
“I am. Waiting for mommy.” Ren answers, and it tugs Satoru’s heart. For how much longer is Ren going to call you mommy? When will it just be mom? Satoru takes a deep breath, he knew that spending too much time with you meant that your sadness would become infectious. 
“What do you want for breakfast? Cereal?” Satoru asks, and Ren nods in response. He doesn’t really care to have a more intricate breakfast, he’s not that hungry this early. 
“Will school always be this early?” Ren questions, walking over to the informal dining table that’s in the kitchen. Satoru chuckles, knowing that it gets worse from here– At least kindergarten isn’t too bad.
“It’ll always be at the same time.” Satoru answers, and he sees the frown that appears on Ren’s face. That just ruined everything for the little boy, and Satoru can’t blame him. “But hey, if you cooperate I’ll let you sleep in on Saturday and Sunday.”
“Really?” A hopeful spark appears in Ren’s eyes, and Satoru almost feels bad. He’ll do whatever will work.
“Yes sir.” Satoru smirks. Ren loves the deal, therefore he’ll cooperate as much as he has to. Satoru has this whole parenting thing under wraps. He walks over to Ren, putting the bowl of cereal in front of Ren, “Eat up, honey. You have a long day ahead of you.”
“Okay, I’m ready!” You announce, walking into the kitchen to find Satoru and Ren sitting together. Tears well up in your eyes as you see the pair and you hold your breath, 
“Actually, give me a minute.”
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“Can you replay the song?” Ren asks, and Satoru wastes no time in starting the song over again and turning it up to max volume. Anything to drown out the sniffles that come from you. You’re almost at the school, you need to gather yourself. Ren can’t see you crying like this.
“Baby shark is not that sad for you to be reacting like this.”  Satoru tries to joke, which only makes you sob. He’d love to join you in the crying, but someone has to be strong for Ren. “You must really hate the song.”
“Shut up.” You tell him in complete tears. He’s trying to cheer you up but nothing is working today. You have to soothe yourself. Your son is going to be fine.
“We’re almost at the school.” Satoru announces, and Ren looks outside the car excitedly. Satoru’s word of mouth worked, and the child is more than excited to go to school. Though Satoru’s announcement is more for you, his way of telling you to gather yourself. 
“Replay the song!” Ren yells, and Satoru does as the child asks. Ren will be getting out of the car soon enough so Satoru doesn’t mind listening to the song a couple more times. 
“He’s going to be fine.” Satoru tells you, knowing that Ren is too busy listening to his song to hear what Satoru has to say.
“He’s growing up too fast.” You say, and Satoru pouts. Bringing that up makes him want to cry too but he can’t. Satoru’s already missed so much, and he’s going to miss more. But it’s fine. Ren is going to be fine, and he’s excited to go to school. 
“We’re here.” Satoru turns off the radio, handing you his handkerchief so you can clean your face. You have to control yourself for at least ten minutes, then you can cry all you want. Ren takes off his seatbelt before his face presses against the car window, looking at the surroundings. 
“It’s big.” Ren comments which earns a chuckle from the both of you. Your house is almost as big, you have no idea why he’s shocked. You take one final deep breath before opening your car door. You can hold back the tears. 
“Alright, let’s go. We’re going to be late.” You say, and Satoru fights back a smile. At least you’re putting up a strong fort.  
You get Ren out of the car, and before you begin the walk to the entrance, you take a couple of photos of the child. You’re finally able to do it without crying, so you take as much as you can. Ren with a backpack nearly twice his size and a lunchbox as big as him. He’s a Gojo, he’ll be your height in no time. 
“Were you crying?” Ren looks up at you, seeing how your eyes look puffy. The question makes you want to burst into tears again. 
“Why would I be?” You furrow your brows, trying to play it off. That’s good enough to deter Ren from questioning it any further. Ren takes your hand, and you squeeze it. “Are you excited, baby? It’s a very big day.”
“I am.” Ren smiles at you, and you melt. He’s going to have so much fun and learn new things, you shouldn’t worry. 
“Stop!” Satoru nearly yells when you’re at the entrance. You both look back at him, confused why he suddenly yells. “Let me take a picture of the two of you.”
“You don’t have to yell like a maniac next time you want a picture.” You tell him, getting ready for a picture with Ren as Satoru takes his phone out. You signal Ren to come closer, and once he’s close enough, you both smile at Satoru’s phone. 
“And for the record, I didn’t yell like a maniac.” Satoru says after he takes enough pictures of the two of you. You think you’re done, but he hands the phone to you. He wants you to do the same for him and Ren, which you have no issue doing. You might be a little late but who cares? The first day of kindergarten isn’t that big of a deal. 
“Alright you two, say cheese.” You can’t help but smile as you see your two boys share the same smile as they look at the camera. You hurry up, seeing that Ren is growing sick of taking photos. You don’t take as many pictures as Satoru did, but it’s good enough, he doesn’t need fifty variations of the same picture. 
“Alright, let’s go.” You hand the phone back to Satoru, before you open the door to the school. You’ll admit, it’s nice knowing that you won’t be stuck within the halls this time around… You do feel slightly bad for your son, but he’ll for sure enjoy it the first years. 
“Do you need help with your backpack, buddy?” Satoru asks, seeing how the end of the backpack hits the child’s calves.
“I can handle it!” Ren claims, immediately getting defensive. He’s in a space with kids his age, he has to look like a big boy. Satoru chuckles, claiming,
“I won’t take it from you, no need to answer like that.” 
You begin to get nervous as you approach the classroom. Leaving your baby alone in a classroom full of kids with a woman that you barely know is nerve wracking to say the least. Satoru looks fine, you should be more than fine as well.
“This is the classroom.” Satoru announces when you nearly walk past it. The teacher waits outside with the door open and a warm welcoming smile on her face. This is it. Satoru takes over, telling his son,  “Alright, Ren. Greet your teacher and go inside.”
“How about a goodbye first?” You say, glaring back at Satoru for sending off your child without even getting a proper farewell. Ren waves at the two of you before walking into his classroom as if you didn’t matter. You stick out your bottom lip as you look at Satoru, “He’s a big boy now.”
“Let’s get out of here before the waterworks begin.” Satoru throws his arm over your shoulder and tries to guide you outside, awkwardly waving at Ren’s teacher. He’d stick around and talk to her some more (though the emails and meet-the-teacher night should be more than enough), but he has to make sure that you don’t begin to cry outside of the classroom. 
“He doesn’t even want to say goodbye to his mommy, what have we done?” You let out a cry, and Satoru tries his best to calm you down. Teachers are outside, waiting for their respective students, he doesn’t need them staring at you. 
“How about I take you to breakfast?” Satoru asks, hoping that it’ll take your mind off crying. Truthfully, he might begin to cry too. “Heard there’s a good place around here, won’t you like to try it?”
“I’m not hungry.” You answer, your appetite completely gone from the lack of reaction from your son. Like father like son or whatever they say. 
“A beautiful face like yours has to eat, c’mon.” Satoru insists, and you sigh. Your stomach growls, giving it away. You’re hungry and you can’t deny it, but you don’t want to eat. Satoru hears it, but he knows you won’t change your mind that easily. “Fine, but I’m still stopping to get something for myself.”
“Yeah, whatever. Take me to get breakfast.” You roll your eyes. His plan has succeeded, right now you’re not crying because Ren entered his classroom without giving you a hug. 
“It’s a date.” He says, which earns a weird look from you. It makes him feel nervous, and he scratches the back of his neck before asking, “Is it a date?”
“It’s…” You begin but you stop yourself. You’re not sure. Do you want to give him that slight bit of hope that you can get back together? 
You clear your throat before telling him, “I’ll decide after.”
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simmir99 · 9 months ago
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Welcome to the Penthouse Suite in Ciudad Enamorada! This vacation rental is sexy, romantic and luxurious. Enjoy the stunning skyline while eating breakfast with your favorite sim, some sexy hot tub time, or maybe plan an intimate proposal for your romantic partner. This will forever be Mari and Oliver's special place in which they will vacation regularly. I absolutely love this build, and I know you will to! <3 (See some of their memories below) FREE for download on my Patreon HERE Lot: 20x20 Ciudad Enamorada, Nuevo Corazon, Torres Amanecer Huge thank you to the CC creators as this build would not be possible without them. This build is heavy on @felixandresims and his recent Estate collection (my newest obsession). The good news, if you have his CC, this will be a light download. Also, a big shout out to @sundays-sims because their bathroom collection is chef's kiss. Enjoy!! Please tag me on your socials, I would LOVE to see your shenanigans! *Please DO NOT claim as your own
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we-are-maladaptive · 1 year ago
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little dreamer ♡
contents: fluffy stuff, a little bit a children mentioned characters: katsuki bakugou, izuku midoriya, shouto todoroki, denki kaminari, eijirou kirishima (separate) authors note: hello (╥﹏╥) very sorry for being inactive recently!! my mother's ex boyfriend is in jail for attempted homocide and ive been helping her get it together since then ( not even kidding ) so therefore here is a hello present from me as an apology ♡´・ᴗ・`♡
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Husband Katsuki, who sits with you on the porch swing in the late afternoon, the golden light of the setting sun casting long shadows across the yard. The scent of jasmine fills the air, mingling with the sound of distant laughter from children playing nearby. He wraps a cozy blanket around your shoulders, pulling you close as the evening chill begins to set in. You sip on hot cocoa, marshmallows melting into sweet swirls, and talk about the little moments that made your day special. His arm around you feels like the safest place in the world, and as the first stars begin to appear in the twilight sky, he softly hums a tune that makes you feel like you’re the only two people in the universe.
Husband Izuku, who wakes you gently on lazy Sunday mornings with the smell of freshly brewed coffee and the sound of birds singing outside your window. He brings you breakfast in bed, a tray laden with your favorite pastries, fruits, and a delicate vase holding a single rose. As you share bites of buttery croissant and sip on coffee, you talk about dreams you had the night before and make plans for the day ahead. His fingers trace patterns on your arm as he listens, his eyes full of a love that makes you feel cherished and safe. Later, you both linger in bed, wrapped in the warmth of the morning sun and each other’s embrace, content to let the world outside fade away.
Husband Shouto, who takes you on evening walks along the beach, where the sky blazes with the colors of the setting sun, painting the waves with hues of orange and pink. As you stroll hand in hand, you collect smooth pebbles and seashells, giggling like children whenever you find a particularly beautiful one. You sit together on the sand, watching as the stars begin to twinkle into existence, and he wraps a blanket around your shoulders to keep you warm. His voice is soft and tender as he whispers stories of your future, of a house by the sea and children who run along the shore, their laughter mingling with the sound of the waves. You lean into him, feeling the steady beat of his heart and the promise of a lifetime of such evenings together.
Husband Denki, who plans a cozy movie night at home, the living room transformed into a haven of comfort with soft pillows and warm blankets scattered everywhere. He dims the lights and lights a few scented candles, their flickering flames casting a soft glow. You snuggle together on the couch, sharing a bowl of popcorn and exchanging quiet laughter over inside jokes. As the movie plays, he holds you close, his fingers gently stroking your hair. The outside world fades away, leaving just the two of you in this perfect moment. When the credits roll, you find yourselves talking late into the night, about anything and everything, his voice a soothing melody that lulls you into a peaceful sleep, your head resting on his shoulder.
Husband Eijirou, who dances with you in the living room, the only light coming from the flickering flames in the fireplace, casting a golden glow over everything. The soft strains of a love song fill the room, and he holds you close, your feet moving in a slow, gentle rhythm. His hand rests on the small of your back, and you feel the warmth of his touch seep through your clothes. As the song ends, he pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, his gaze filled with a tenderness that makes your heart ache with love. He presses a kiss to your forehead, murmuring words of devotion, and you know in that moment that this is where you belong—dancing in his arms, forever and always.
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moonchildstyles · 1 year ago
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First time sex with rosemary 🌿
wordcount: 9k
—————
Wiping her floured hands on her apron, (Y/N) brushed her hair out of her face with her wrist before reaching towards her back pocket for her vibrating phone. Her lips curled into a soft smile seeing Harry's name on her screen, his contact featuring a photo of him sleepy-eyed next to his kitten in her bed had her smile stretching wider. Taking a quick glance at the time, she was sure he'd just made it back to his apartment after finishing up at the grocery store. 
Quickly, she peeled her gloves from her hands and peeked out into the storefront of the bakery. Just as she had left it a handful of minutes before, there weren't any patrons now that the morning rush had passed, leaving Sabrina tucked behind the desk with her book folded open. 
"Hey, I'm going to take my fifteen really quick. Is that okay?" As soon as Sabrina gave her the go ahead with a wave of her hand with her eyes still stuck to her book, (Y/N) was answering the call with a tap of her thumb. "Harry?" she greeted, stepping out back of the bakery for a bit of privacy in the mid-morning air. 
"Hi, peach," he murmured through the receiver, voice drooping and soft, "Is it alright that I called you? I know you're still working, so." 
"Your timing was perfect, actually," she told him, knowing he was probably more worried than he was letting on for fear of having ruined her day, "Everything just cleared out from this morning, and I needed a break." 
"Yeah? Long shift already?" he pressed, the sound of sheets shuffling on the other side with a petite meow chirping through. 
"A little bit, yeah," she sighed, wishing she was wrapped up in warm sheets with Harry and Rosemary, "Just one of those Sunday morning shifts, you know. How was your night, though? Work was okay?" 
"Yeah," he said, the syllable floating out on a long suffering sigh, "Theo and Brett were still annoying, but I think Fawn is going to cover one of my shifts this week." 
(Y/N) immediately perked up at the new information. She'd been urging him to take some time off this past month; he didn't have to work himself to the bone anymore, not now that his issues from back home had been resolved. It was unhealthy, she'd told him more than once—he would make himself sick with more than just exhaustion if he wasn't careful. 
"Really? What day?" she bubbled off, ready and willing to shift her own schedule around if he wanted. 
"Thursday." 
She could hear the smile in his voice as he uttered the words. He knew what reaction he was going to get. 
"Are you serious?" she beamed, bouncing on the soles of her feet, "You have the whole weekend off then?" 
"I do, yeah. So do you." 
"Harry," she bleated, "I'm so excited! We haven't had any time together I feel like, and now we get a whole weekend! Thank you!" 
"That's what I was thinking when I made my request; barely seen you this past week. 'S not fair." 
"It's not," she affirmed, "You haven't even been able to sleep over since Friday. I'm not used to that." 
"Me neither, peach," he murmured, his tone decidedly more somber than just a moment before though she understood where he was coming from. 
Ever since their impromptu road trip, they tended to have as many sleepovers as their schedules would allow. Besides the comfort that came along with being at each other's side—especially in the case of Harry's frequent nightmares—, it was hard to forget how much they liked sharing a bed and sitting down for meals together. 
"Did you want to do anything special?" she prompted, already racking her brain for anything that Harry would enjoy leaving the house for. 
"I've got to go to the library at some point," he mused, another chirping meow sounding from the background prompting a huff of laughter to leave his lips, "But, other than that, I was hoping I could catch up on m'sleep." 
"We can do that," (Y/N) decided, shifting her view of the days off to turn into cozy sheets and breakfasts in bed, "A weekend long sleepover. We'll make a thing of it." 
"Yeah?" Harry asked, a smile audible in his tone��a vision that had (Y/N)'s chest warming. "How are we gonna do that?" 
She hummed, sifting through her ideas before landing on a few to share, "Probably movies if we have the attention span for it—if not, we can read together or something. We can do face masks too—Ooh, or I'll get another of that hair mask you like. Let me think, but I have some ideas." 
"'M sure y'do, peach," he murmured, his voice decidedly lower and slower than before, sleep vining around the edges of his words, "Whatever y'want, we'll do. I trust you." 
"I'll make sure we make a thing of it, H," she told him, reluctant to say her next words but knowing he needed to get as much sleep as he could manage, "I've got to get back to the ovens, but I'll text you when I'm off." 
"Yeah?" he mumbled, "Tell me when y'get home?" 
"You've got it," she smiled, feeling the winter sun warm on her cheeks, "Goodnight, H."
"Goodnight, peach." 
With that, (Y/N) ended the call. Hopefully, he would be able to sleep through the rest of her shift at least. He just needed to get through the next few days, then he'd have some time off to spend at her gingerbread house. 
The thought had that soft curl on her lips feeling permanent. She would have to remind him how proud she was that he was taking a couple of days off, the time well-deserved. 
Just like she said, she would make a thing of it, she only had to figure out what a thing for Harry looked like. 
—————
With Rosemary wriggling in his arms, Harry nearly fumbled his keys to the ground while on (Y/N)'s stoop. She was a calm little thing nearly any other time of the day, but as soon as they were at (Y/N)'s door, Rosie couldn't settle. 
Keeping his hold on her tight, he was able to finally stumble through the door before letting her spill out of his arms. Her feet pattered over the hardwood, beelining for the kitchen just as he knew she would. Harry could only shake his head as he kicked off his shoes by the door, setting them next to (Y/N)'s under the foyer table. He couldn't stay mad, though, especially not when he heard the familiar cooing of his peach filtering down the hall. 
"Where's your daddy, Rosie?" (Y/N) crooned, voice a soft murmur through the house, "We've got to talk to him about how hungry you are when you come over. Is he not giving you enough treats?"
Following the sound of her voice, Harry's lips curled instinctively into a soft smile when he spotted (Y/N) crouched next to his kitten, fingers massaging through her fur. There was a part of him that wanted to peer out the small window above her sink, ensuring no one was watching in—a part of him that he forcefully tamped down in favor of reveling in the sight of his stitched family. 
"You know I feed her," he drawled, leaning against the threshold of the entrance, "I don't know why she acts like this when we come over." 
It was the way (Y/N)'s features seemingly bloomed when she looked up at him. Her hand absently continued petting Rosemary, but it was clear all of her attention was splashed upon him. It was when her eyes were on him with nothing but adoration that had Harry happily anchored to the moment, warm and comfortable in his skin. He hoped he was able to make her feel that way when he looked at her. 
"Hey, H," she smiled, giving one last stroke to Rosie before she was standing to her feet and crossing the kitchen towards him, "I was going to ask you how work was, but you're on vacation." 
"I am, aren't I?" he mused, collecting her into his arms.
(Y/N) looped her arms around his neck while he hugged her around her middle, face cradled into the crook of her neck. His eyes fell closed reflexively, his chest expanding as he pulled in a deep breath. The sugary scent of her skin filled his lungs, her hair tickling his nose. 
"Are you excited?" she asked, trailing her fingers up and into his hair as she drew away. 
Matching her eyes, her question drifted away in favor of tipping forward and pressing a kiss to her lips. A giggled out his name against his mouth, muttering something about answering her, though Harry didn't pay it any mind. He focused on the give of her lips under his, the seam parting when she eventually melted into him. Her hands in his hair was a warming tether, keeping him from drifting out of her pastel kitchen. 
It was her that pulled away first, cutting off his indulgences earlier than he liked. He attempted to chase after her, craning his neck with puckered lips, though that only granted him a peal of her laughter fluttering between them. 
"Not in front of Rosie, H," she teased, unwrapping from his arms to move towards the stove where a warm oven and bubbling pan had gone unnoticed before. 
Harry stood back, watching as she stirred and tasted and adjusted, clicking on the light in her oven to take a peek inside. No matter how many times he'd offered to make dinner, take care of her meals—told her that he liked cooking, even—she had insisted that she wanted to take care of him, take one worry off of his plate. When she put it that way, he didn't feel like fighting with her. 
"She's seen worse, peach," he countered, leaning over the peninsula counter with his forearms flat on the surface. He had a perfect view into the domestic dream that was his (Y/N), complete with a bow in her hair despite the mess of a bun on the top of her head. 
A small laugh fell from her lips as she looked over her shoulder at him, "Maybe, but we shouldn't encourage it. Dinner's almost ready anyway, so we don't need to be distracted." 
"Yeah? What'd y'make?" He could see just the edges of something creamy in the pot she was stirring.
"Sabrina's family is visiting, and her dad gave me this recipe for stuffed shells with all this cheese and, like, spinach and stuff. I thought we'd try it out." She gave him a beaming smile when she finished whatever she was stirring, taking it off of the burner with the timer on the oven ticking down to less than two minutes. 
"That sounds really nice, love. Thank you. I've got dishes tonight." 
"Harry." A small scold—as expected.
"(Y/N)," he responded in the same arguing tone as she, "You're letting me—and my cat—stay here all weekend, 'm not letting us leave a mess here for you too. 'S alright." 
This was one of those things he didn't allow much room for argument on. It was one of those things—fear of feeling like a burden—that had come with the years on the run while attempting to ensure his impact was never felt. He was working on it, sure, but the least he could do for all of (Y/N)'s kindness was taking care of the dishes. 
"Okay," she relented, eyes rounding out as she looked up at him, "Just not tonight, though. I have something special for you after dinner." 
He did recall her saying something about making this weekend a thing for him, he just didn't really know what exactly that meant. "And, what's that?" 
A sheepish look crossed her face, softening her features and lining her eyes. "It's kind of silly, but I got some fun bath things and, like, candles and stuff. I wanted to make everything a little special tonight since it's your first extra, real day off in a long time." 
The longer she went on explaining herself, Harry could feel his own lips curling into a small smile. "Really?" he asked when she finally took a breath. 
"Yeah," she started, dropping her eyes from his, "But, you don't have to use them or anything if you don't want to. I know it might not really be your thing, and all." 
"Love," he crooned, the petname falling from his lips just for her to hear, "Thank you. That sounds really nice actually—don't remember the last time I took a bath like that. 'M always too worried about the water running cold." 
(Y/N)'s expression brightened at his words. "I'm excited for you to see all the stuff I got for you, then. But only after dinner—and dessert."
"Dessert?" 
"Of course dessert," (Y/N) smiled, moving back to the oven on the brink of beeping, "But that's a surprise." 
It was the way she looked at him before she gave her attention to the oven and baking pasta, how bubbly she seemed over something as simple as a surprise sweet for him to have at the end of the meal. That was what had him all but melting into the countertop. She could have fed him garbage and left him to soak in an ice bath and he'd be just as happy—all he needed was for her to keep looking at him like that. 
—————
"Are y'sure y'don't want me to do the dishes tonight?" 
(Y/N) rolled her eyes, pulling out of Harry's embrace to head towards the kitchen and the plates waiting by the sink. "Yes, I'm sure, H. I want you to relax this weekend, I don't mind doing a couple of plates." 
"But—" 
"No," (Y/N) cut him off, plugging the sink before beginning to fill the basin with soapy water, "As soon as I get this ready, we're going to my bathroom and I'm showing you all the stuff I got for you, and then you're going to not think about the kitchen again for the rest of the night." 
"I'm not?" he asked, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips at her insistence. Sometimes it was fun to argue with her for no other reason than he liked to see her put her foot down with a smoke to her gaze. 
He thought it was cute.
"Nope. Not even for a second." Amusement covered her own features by the time she cut the tap and turned to face him. "C'mon." 
With that, she flitted out of the kitchen with socked feet padding over the flooring. She didn't have to look back to know Harry was following. 
Tailing her through the house with his gaze carefully landing on the round of her hips as they swayed with her steps, she took him to her bathroom. There, on the counter, was a brown paper bag with a white painted logo on the front. A gifting ribbon had the handles tied together on top,  a tag with his name dangling from the tendril. 
In presentation, (Y/N) stood off to the side of the counter, a beaming smile on her face as she flourished her hands out. "Happy free weekend." 
"What's this, hm?" he hummed, stepping over the tile with his gaze narrowed teasingly in her direction. 
"Your bath stuff," she said, practically bouncing in her spot as he began reluctantly untying the bow. He wanted to keep it perfect—he couldn't remember the last time he received a gift, especially one like this. 
Harry could feel his eyes on her as he began digging through the bag. Floating on top were two powdery spheres, striped in alternating colors with dried flowers stamped inside. He settled them gently on the counter, his hands coming away with remnants of the sweet smelling dust. 
"They're bath bombs," (Y/N) piped up, "They're those things that dissolve in the water and make it colorful with all these nice skin things in them. The purple one is lavender and sage, and the blue one is lotus and jasmine."
Smiling at her explanation, he reached back inside the bag. A glass bottle filled with sweet smelling oil was his next find, the wax seal corking it closed having dripped its way down to the label. He could smell the warm, floral notes from here, even with the contents sealed away. Looking at the simple label wrapped around the thick of the bottle, he looked up at her with raised brows. 
"Massage oil?" 
It was the way she hesitated that had his lips stretching into a smile. "Its—I—It doesn't have to be used for that. It can just be a nice body oil if you want, but I... I mean if you want a massage, I could use that, so." 
So far, this was his favorite gift from her reaction alone. He settled it with a clink next to the bath bombs. "I'll keep that in mind." 
Next in line was a candle, standing tall in a cold glass voice in the bag. Pulling it out, the four wicks were sealed away with the help of the suctioned lid, showing off the marbling of the wax tucked inside. It was a swirling jade color, complete with lapping white streaks to emulate the gemstone. Under the just right light, he could see bursts of glitter suspended inside. The label boasted a vanilla sage scent, surely meant to match the sage bath bomb he'd picked up earlier. 
"Peach," he smiled, looking at his gifts spread out on the counter for him, "These are so nice, than—" 
"There's more," she bubbled, unable to contain herself this time, "At the bottom." 
He raised a brow but dug inside like she suggested. At the bottom, his fingertips brushed something smooth and flat. Getting his fingers around it, Harry already had a good idea of what he was pulling out, a smile spreading over his features and denting his cheeks with dimples. 
It was a book—one of his favorites from the library. One he had loved enough that he wished he had his own copy to keep him company—something he had told (Y/N). The cover was the black and white with splashes of red, the artwork glossier than what he had borrowed from the library. The spine was uncracked, kept in pristine condition—just the way he liked it.
"I know you've already read it, but I thought you might want to read a little again while you take your bath," (Y/N) mused at his side, her hands in a fumbling bundle before her. 
"(Y/N)," Harry sighed, looking up from his new, personal edition, "This is all wonderful, really. Thank you, so much." 
With his book still in hand, he collected her in his arms, tucking her against his chest. While he wasn't one hundred percent sure what all of the things he had received were, it was more than warming to think about her perusing a shop with him in mind, plucking things up with the intention of sharing them only with him. 
"I know it's all kind of silly, but I'm happy you like it," she murmured into his shoulder, the curl of her smile felt against the cuff. 
"'S not silly," he told her, drawing back just enough to get a look in her eyes, "I can't remember the last time anyone has done anything like this for me. I really like all of it, (Y/N). Thank you." 
Tipping his chin, he pressed his lips to hers, hoping she felt his words as much as she heard them. He felt eased when her lips molded into a soft smile. 
"I'm happy I could change that," she cemented, beginning to untangle himself from his hold, "I'll leave you to it, then. Take as long as you want, I'm just going to clean up and we'll go to bed—" 
"You're not staying with me?" 
How was he supposed to enjoy all of these trinkets and things without her there? What was the point of a sage candle and glittery bath bomb if she wasn't going to be indulging with him? 
(Y/N) stopped in her tracks, one foot out of the bathroom. "Oh—um, no? I was going to go clean the kitchen and things, remember?" 
"Yeah, but," he started, watching to reach out and keep her on the tiled floor with him, "can y'do that later?" 
"Do you want me to?" was her simple response. 
Harry nodded. "Yeah." 
Her features were warm, taking a step back into the bathroom with him. "Then, I'll do it later." 
It didn't take long for their clothing to be shed, lying in a lumpy file on the floor with the tub filled to the brim with steaming water. Harry had chosen the lavender bomb to be placed in the water, (Y/N) all too excited to show him the magic of the fizzy powder. She had urged him to sink in first, her gaze following the lines of his body before she had gone after him. 
Harry wrapped his arms around her as she sunk into him, his chest to her back. The steaming water rippled around them, scenting the air with crisp lavender and warming sage. Every deep breath he took had the bunching in his muscles lessening and lessening until he was lax with (Y/N) in his hold. He could feel her every breath, the expanding of her chest that pressed back into him, the brush of her hair drifting through the surface of the water and tickling his skin, the careful way she had her hands laying atop his own where they were threaded over the soft of her stomach. It was easy for his eyes to shutter closed with his head tipping back against the rim of the tub. 
It was almost enough to keep him from acknowledging the curve of her body pressed against his cock.
Now wasn't the time though, he starkly reminded himself, taking in a deep breath of the calming lavender. She had wanted to relax with him, not get felt up with a dick pressing against her ass. 
"Do you like it?" 
The sound of (Y/N)'s crooned words had him blinking his eyes open. He wasn't even hard yet, how could she know that he was already talking himself down? 
"What?"
"The bath bomb," she laughed, oblivious, "You said you've never used one before, right?" 
"Oh," he sounded, exhaling finally, "Yeah. 'S nice—it smells really nice. I could fall asleep in here.”
Twisting in his arms, (Y/N) shot him a beaming smile over her shoulder. "I have before—I don't recommend." 
"Yeah?" he smiled, much more willing to focus on this anecdote than on the way the shifting of her body hit points on him he would have rather ignored for the time being. 
"Oh yeah," she cemented, shaking her head, "I only woke up when I felt water going up my nose 'cause I started slipping." 
Though she laughed off the remark, a frown settled on Harry's lips. "Y'almost drowned? (Y/N)..."
Her name came out as a scold, one that had her letting out another peal of laughter. "No, I didn't drown, H—" 
"You almost did," he pointed out. 
There were parts of him, traits that he gained during his years protecting his mother and sister, that were now woven into the fabric of his personality. Hearing (Y/N)'s story had that protective gene flaring up in him, urging him to hold her tighter, keep her at his side. He wouldn't let his mind wander to another version of events where she hadn't spasmed awake when the warm water touched her nose. 
His limbs became a warming cradle around her form, caging her to him lest the bathtub somehow raise tsunami waves and try to pull them apart. He pressed his lips to the back of her shoulder, speaking against the skin, "I don't like that." 
(Y/N) wiggled her hands underneath his, turning her palms up to match his own with her fingers threading between. "It's just a funny story, H. I'm fine—you know I don't take baths, like, ever, anyway." 
His brows pinched into a furrow. Sure, maybe he did know that. "Still," he grumbled.
Harry's petulance only served to draw another breath of laughter from her chest. 
She wriggled in his hold some, melting into him as she slid deeper into the water. The milky shaded water ripped around her, Harry keeping her close as she settled with her head resting against his shoulder. 
"I'm fine, Harry," she cemented, peeking up at him with an adoring smile on her features, "But, you're cute for worrying." 
Taking in a deep breath, he did nothing more than dropping another kiss to the cuff of her shoulder. He wasn't trying to be cute—he was protective. It was a part of his nature. 
Shuttering his eyes, Harry indulged himself and allowed his kissing to continue down her shoulder, only stopping when the lapping line of the water halted him. With his fingers laced between hers, he pulled her arm out of the pastel bath. He dotted his lips down the line of her limb, nose skimming her skin in his wake and raising goosebumps. A plume of laughter left his peach, the sound enough to have his own smile taking place as he fought to smear his lips over her skin. 
It wasn't until he was headed towards her wrist, landing on the soft underside of her arm that he slowed when he, through cracked eyes, spotted a slash that had made a home in her skin. It was small, though it looked only partially healed—still a warm red and slightly raised.
"What happened here?" he murmured, a pinch furrowing his brow. 
"Hm?" (Y/N) hummed dazedly, shuffling in his hold before spotting what had made him stop in the first place, "Oh, Rosie scratched me by accident." 
It was something so minor, completely mundane and curable. The scratch wouldn't even scar, and yet Harry still felt his shoulders deflate. He would have to remind Rosemary to be gentle with her mother—she was entirely too special, no need to have claws out when being held by her. 
He apologized for his cat with a small press of his lips to the cut. 
Under the cover of the pastel water, (Y/N) untangled her hand from his that was still laid against her stomach. He was left to feel the give of her plush skin under the pads of his fingertips while she carded her own through his hair. Though he attempted to continue the dotted affection of his kiss over her skin, he didn't stand much of a chance as he reveled under her touch. 
Maybe it was the brush of her nails against his scalp, or the slight give of her body under his hand, or just the fact that he could feel every line of her body against his own, but Harry felt his stomach tense then. It was minute and fleeting, but something he felt under the blocking muscles of his abdomen. 
He attempted to keep a lid on whatever that feeling could lead to by taking a deep breath, but that only reminded him of (Y/N)'s skin right under his nose and the fact that she had been the one to run him this bath and that was why she was naked, and warm, and wet, and pressed right against him, and that was why his hands were on her and—
"H?" 
Blinking his eyes open and drawing away from her, Harry looked up to match her wide eyes. "Hm?" 
There was something teasing on her expression, lighthearted in her eyes with a small tug edging on the corner of her mouth. "Are you okay? You weren't breathing for a second." 
"Oh," he sounded, mouth dry, "Sorry." 
She shook her head, murmuring something about him being funny or cute or something, but, admittedly, Harry didn't have an ear to lend at that moment as (Y/N) started moving around him. Wriggling out of his hold, Harry stayed still in the water as she maneuvered around until she deposited herself in his lap. Her thighs were spread to cushion his hips, her bottom settled on the thick of his thighs while her chest was flush against his. Only trickles of the lavender water were able to make their way between her breasts and the curves of her body, leaving her shimmering with the scented oil on her skin and suddenly warmer than the steaming water. 
Looking up at her, Harry took his time tracing the lines of her piled hair with the wet ends sticking to her skin, warm cheeks glowy and dewy, the soft light reflecting in her eyes from the candle she had lit and stationed behind their cuddled bodies. He felt breathless—reverent. 
It was never far from his mind just how deeply (Y/N) had impacted him. Without her, he never would have been knocked out of the daze that was his life—the cycle of never-ending loneliness and purposeless decisions. She had changed him in ways he was scared of, the ways that he had avoided for years because it was easier to stay the same. He didn't enjoy thinking of who he would be without her, where he would be. 
It was with that knowledge and the sight before him, that Harry wanted nothing more than to worship her and show her the purple that he had been given now that she was in his life. Religion wasn't anything that ever consoled him during his years on the run, but if the temples and altars had looked like her, the gods held her kind eyes and warming touch, he may have reconsidered. 
"You can touch me, you know." 
Dropping back to earth with a flutter of his eyes, he realized his hands were lax at his sides, careful to keep a distance from her skin. She had been the one to tie her arms around his neck, to keep their bodies close, while he had basked in the sight of her alone. 
"Sorry," he murmured, placing his palms on the full curve of her thighs. 
He skated them over her form, taking in the rounded edges of her body and warm skin. He'd touched her before, enough times to have mapped out every crook and groove, and yet, it still felt like the first time when he allowed him to feel. It would never get old knowing that he had someone like her that loved him enough to allow his hands to land on her. 
"Don't be sorry," she murmured, ducking her head until she planted a gentle kiss on his cheek. "I just don't want you to feel like you can't touch me—I'm yours, H, remember?" 
There was that stirring again in his stomach, that tensing in his muscles that felt much deeper and lower than he would have liked during a relaxing cuddle with his girlfriend. It was just the reminder, that declaration that got to him just like it always did. 
(It was a bit embarrassing, in Harry's opinion. Would it always be this easy to work him up? Would (Y/N) always be able to say a handful of words, let his hands wander to her hips, and then he would be done for?) 
"You're mine," he sighed, sinking deeper into the water. 
It was (Y/N)'s turn then to trail her lips over his skin, the pillows of her lips never fully lifting from his skin before she was planting another kiss. She went on with the tip of her nose smushing against the line of his jaw as she worked down to the column of his throat. He could feel himself growing harder and harder with every kiss, every brush of his hands over her body, until he was sure (Y/N) was well aware as well. Though she made it abundantly clear she didn't mind when she rocked her hips against his, his cock pressed against his stomach and the soft core between her thighs. 
A shuddering exhale caved his chest. 
"I'm yours," she crooned, the heat of her words fanning over his heated skin.
Her own arms wrapped around his neck began to drift, leaving only one tangled in the waves of his hair with the blunt of her nails tracing his scalp. Her touch skated down the length of his chest, her eyes settling into a daze as they followed the journey of her hand until it disappeared under the water. His abdomen jumped under her hand the lower she went until the heel of her palm grazed the plumped head of his cock.
He couldn't help the way he tossed his head back, leaning into the palm of her hand. His voice came out in a breath, "I want you so bad, peach, I'm so sorry." 
(Y/N) drew away just enough to match his eyes, her wandering hand settling against the middle of his chest. "Why are you sorry?" she asked with amusement in her eyes, a soft smile on her lips as she shook her head, "You don't have to be sorry." 
"Jus'" he started, focusing on the sight of her as opposed to the weight of her form and warmth of her skin against him, "I don't... Don't want to ruin tonight since you're already doing so much, and you're only trying to relax and 'm reacting like this and—" 
She cut him off with her lips pressing against his, the edges of her mouth unable to fall in line with her kiss as she fought back a smile. "Do you think I don't want you, too, right now? If I didn't, I wouldn't be climbing all over you, H—or trying to get you to take me back to my room." 
Shifting on his lap once more, (Y/N) emphasized her point with a small roll of her hips against him, her warmth grazing over his length. 
His hands on her waist tensed, denting into her flesh with stern fingertips. Was she asking for what he hoped—what he'd been wanting but was too fearful to ask for in worry of pushing her?
His mouth felt dry as he took in her features, watching as something heated lingered in her irises. "A-Are y'sure?" he mumbled, unwilling to misread the conversation. (Y/N) loved taking care of him, he never wanted her to think he was intending to take advantage of that. 
Carding her fingers through his hair, the tip of her tongue peeked out from between her lips to run along the seam. "I've really missed you, H. It's not always enough just to call you before I fall asleep, you know. It's not the same as actually having you." 
A spark pinged in his chest at her words, the memories they dredged up. A couple of times over the last week with his busy schedule, they'd spent some extra time on the phone before (Y/N) fell asleep for the night and Harry worked through an especially long shift. He knew exactly what she meant: now that he knew what it was like to be touched by her, his own hand, his own fantasies paled so starkly in comparison it was almost embarrassing. 
"I can take care of you, peach. 'M sorry I haven't been doing m'job, but I'll make it up to you," he crooned, tipping his head in hopes of pulling her in for a kiss, "Y'want m'mouth or m'fingers, love?" 
It was only when she shook her head that he paused. That hand trapped between their bodies made a deliberate graze down his body until she skated her fingertips over his length, the ruddy head twitching over her touch. "I want you," she corrected, "Don't you want to fuck me?" 
Maybe it was the fact she rarely cursed, or just how intensely she was meeting his eyes, or the feel of her grabbing his cock, but Harry could have blown it all right then. His throat felt thick as he attempted to swallow down the moan building in his chest. His eyes were hooded, a vignette forming around his view of her. 
It would be so easy to sink inside her, split open her walls and make a home between them. All he needed was to shift his hips just right, and then he would be taking advantage of her spread legs and the slick around them. But, his worry of disappointing her—leaving her unsatisfied—held him back. 
His mouth felt dry by the time he found his voice. "I—um—(Y/N)," he started, unsure of how exactly to divulge the information in him, "'S been a while since I've—..." 
He wasn't sure what he was expecting her reaction to be, but he gladly took the small kiss she offered him, sealing his lips to hers. "How long?" 
"Since before everything," he sighed, allowing himself to sink into her kiss and the brush of her mouth against his, "I don't want to... leave y'unsatisfied if 'm not... good." 
That had her lips curling against his, a cluster of small kisses being pressed to the full of his lips before she pulled away. "It's going to be good before it's you, H. I'm not worried—I love you, remember?" 
Was it normal for him to feel his cock pulse at her declaration? Or was he really that easy? 
"I love you, too," he slurred before taking her mouth against his once more. It was messy and heavy, clumsy and unsure, but he didn't care. "I want to fuck you so bad, peach. Can I?" 
All it took was a soft nod of her head before he had his arms lacing underneath the thick of her thighs with the water splashing around the tub. He held her tight, grip stern as he stood tall in the pastel water. (Y/N) let out a bubbling laugh, clinging to him with a gasp as if he would ever drop her. 
With her pressed tightly to his chest, his cock was now fit snugly between the planes of his abdomen and the soft folds between her legs. Water sluiced down his form, a chill befalling his skin now that they'd left the steaming pool behind, though that had no effect on just how hard he was for his peach. 
"We didn't have to right away," (Y/N) laughed, fingers denting the broad of his shoulders, "If you weren't done—" 
"'M done," he cemented, dropping her onto the bounce of her mattress with only a small amount of guilt at getting so much water on her sheets. He'd change them for her later. "You're m'favorite way to relax, peach—don't need all the rest." 
Laid on the center of her bed with her skin gleaming and warm, scented so sweetly from their bath, Harry had a new level of respect for his self-control. But, that was in the past now, left in the bathroom along with the droplets of water on the floor and the candle he would have to remember to blow out before they fell asleep. 
Crawling on the mattress with his cock heavy between his legs, he fit his body between her spread legs, reveling in the plush of her thighs on either side of his hips. (Y/N) reached for him on instinct, looping her arms around his neck with the curls on the back of his neck dampening against her skin. 
"Hi, you," she murmured, a bubbly smile on her lips as if she hadn't just asked him to fuck her a moment ago. 
He could only shake his head, dropping a kiss to the bridge of her nose as he situated himself above him with his forearms stationed on either side of her head. "Hi, peach. What are you up to, hm?" 
"Nothing much," she laughed, hitching a thigh over his lip in a languid move to thrust him forwards. "You?" 
Harry's voice was stilted in his throat, feeling her slick folds give around his cock when his length split through. He could feel the minute pulsing of her clit against his base. "Jus' worried 'm not gonna last very long at all, nothing important," he attempted to joke, if only to feel of plume of her laughter fill the air. 
Instead, he garnered a smearing of (Y/N)'s lips against his own, her affection tender and lingering. "Don't worry about that," she urged him, "I don't care—I just want you to feel good." 
A furrow pinched his brow, his heart rattling when she rocked her hips underneath him as if it wasn't already hard enough to concentrate. "But, I want y'to feel good too, and—" 
"I will as long as you do," she reiterated, amusement sparking in her blown pupils, "I don't care if you finish early, just finish in me, that's all I ask." 
Harry couldn't contain the moan in his throat, the rumbling falling from his throat as he rested his forehead against hers with shuttered eyes. He could feel a bead of warm precum blurting from his tip, dripping to land on the soft of (Y/N)'s stomach with a pulse. 
"You're going to kill me," he murmured, not sure if he was speaking for her to hear, "D-Do y'need me to do anything f—" 
Cutting him off with a kiss, (Y/N) slipped her tongue between his lips only to offer a quick taste before she was pulling away once more. "You can feel how wet I am, right?" 
As if he could forget with the way she was pressed against the underside of his cock, the ridge of his head tight between their stomachs. He answered with a small nod. 
"Y-You're sure, then?" he murmured, attempting to tap into that self control he had back in the tub. 
"I want you, H," she assured, nothing teasing or urgent in her voice, only sincerity, "As long as you're ready, I am, too. It's just me—you don't have to worry." 
His only response came in the form of a small kiss and a declaration: "I love you, (Y/N)." 
"I love you too," she smiled into his kiss, a small roll of her hips turning his brain to mush. 
His breathing was strained as he reached between their bodies, his fist wrapping around his shaft. Looking down, he watched as she spread her thighs that much wider as he swiped his cock between her folds. She was sticky and wet, clinging to the width of him as he split her open enough for his head to kiss her clit. He could see the jump of her muscles, the small whine that chirped from her lips, but he couldn't seem to stop himself—especially when a thread of her slick stuck to him, only bowing and breaking when he reached his cock towards his stomach, too far for the string to extend. 
"Harry, please," she quietly pleaded with him.
The sound of her voice was just enough to knock him back into the universe. It was enough to remind him that this wasn't the main event, there was even more warmth and wetness to be explored. 
Pressing the tip of his cock to her opening, he held himself steady as he pressed his hips forward. It was a tight squeeze, a feeling that took his breath away. As much as he wanted to catch (Y/N)'s expressions, see exactly what she looked like as he sunk inside her for the first time, he couldn't seem to peel his eyes away from the sight of his cock fitting inside her core. With every stretch of his length pushing through, less and less coherent thought filtered through his head. 
Instead, all he could think about was the snug fit of her walls around him, the pulsing with every heartbeat, just how wet she was, the warmth that enveloped him and welcomed him deeper and deeper. By the time he bottomed out, his mouth had fallen into a gape and his arm propping him up was now shaky. His only anchor was the grip he moved to have on her hip, his palm slick and sticky from fisting his cock though he didn't have it in him to care. 
He really, really hoped (Y/N) meant it when she said she wouldn't mind if he blew it fast; he doubted he had much longer left, and he'd only just sunk inside. 
"Y'alright, peach?" he breathed, his words fanning across her skin when he finally looked up to reach her eyes. 
Looking at him with hooded eyes, the pupils wide, (Y/N) gave him her confirmation in the form of a jerky nod. "I'm okay," she mumbled, "Are you?" 
"'M good," he said, feeling drunk despite not a single drop of alcohol even being present in (Y/N)'s home, "'M so good, peach. 'M scared 'm too good." 
"It's okay," she smiled at him, if only a bit dazed when she threaded her fingers through his damp curls, "Just do whatever makes you feel good—that's enough for me." 
He wished he could have told her how much her affection meant to him, how he couldn't believe she loved him the way she did, how there was no one who had such an effect on him, but there was no way his tongue was going to follow any kind of command let alone any train of thought to actually form. Instead, he settled for a searing kiss against her already swollen lips. 
Though he doubted he would have any chance at composure, he still attempted to catch his breath and his brain before he reared his hips back for the first time. Pulling out of her warm channel was enough to add some form of clarity to his mind, though it didn't last long before he pushed forward in a shallow thrust. Her walls welcomed him in once more, warm and snug with every ridge forming around him in a pulse. (Y/N)'s thighs tensed around his hips, a slight tremor to her muscles though she managed to let out a sigh of pleasure against his kiss. 
"Fuck, peach," he murmured when he bottomed out once more, the crown of his length tapping her furthest walls. 
A furrow had his brows pinched though his eyes remained closed, even when he couldn't manage to kiss her anymore, his lips simply resting against her own parted ones. He shared panted breaths with her, his forehead resting on her own with (Y/N)'s fingers curling in his hair. 
Though the pace was slow, he was able to curate a rhythm that kept him from finishing right away. He didn't feel too far from the edge, but this was as good of a chance as he was going to get when she felt as good as she did. 
"H-Harry," she whined, her voice breathy and airy, "You're so big." 
His hips stuttered at her words, the previously shallow thrust he was working on turning into a harsh grind against her core. The jolt had another moan rumbling her chest with a curse falling from Harry's lips. 
"Y'can't say that, peach," he murmured, unable to keep his pacing, "You're gonna make me cum and we've barely started." 
Every stroke was indulgent, lingering when he wanted, harsh and deep when he changed his mind, anything and everything to his taste. His only chance was in moving his hand from her hip and shaky positioning it between his punishing hips and her forgiving core. At the apex of her folds, her clit pearled. Though his hand was shaky, he still managed to smear the pad of his thumb against the bud, feeling the budding pulse that matched the hammering of her heart. 
Suddenly coming to light, (Y/N) managed to bring him in for a kiss. It was sloppy and clumsy, leaving their lips swollen and teeth glancing off one another, but there wasn't any room for perfection. 
Harry needed her, that was all he knew. His stomach tightened with every thrust, his balls shining with her slick with every slap against her ass. (Y/N)'s thighs were warm and tight on either side of his pelvis, unwilling to let him venture too far before accepting him back inside. 
"(Y/N)," he panted, shaking his head, "P-Peach, 'm so sorry." 
"Don't be sorry, do—shit—don't be sorry, H. I want you to cum, okay? Cum in me, please." 
How was he supposed to deny her? What kind of boyfriend would he be if he said no to such pretty words?
Keeping his thumb running circles around her swollen clit, Harry couldn't stop himself before harshly thrusting inside her and pausing when he felt the first spasm wrack through his abdomen. There was a bunch to his muscles he hadn't even realized until the thread keeping them together snapped. 
Ropes of his cum spurted out, decorating and flooding her walls with every pulse. She grew impossibly wet around him, his thumb barely keeping track as he tried to tend to her clit even through the tremors. He ground his hips against hers, unwilling to draw away even an inch out of her warmth as he came.
The world slowly came back into focus as he pulled in puffs of air, (Y/N) delicately kissing his bottom lip. He felt so hot, sticky despite the bath he'd just soaked in. 
Was sex always like this? He couldn't recall ever coming this hard, but had it been too long for him to remember? Or was this another (Y/N)-only thing? He could readily believe that highs like this only came from being in her arms. 
"Still with me?" his peach murmured, a wanton edge to her voice that reminded him that there were much more important things than his own pleasure. 
He nodded, finally reciprocating her kiss. "'M here, peach. I've got you."
Despite the oversensitivity beginning to leak into his system, he managed to grind into her just enough to match the swirling of his thumb against her clit. She gasped into his mouth, allowing him to slip his tongue past her lips and sweep over her own. He got a taste of her pleasured moans, reveling in the feel until it seemingly became too much for her. 
In a way he was now familiar with, (Y/N) let out a chirping moan, delicate and shaky into his mouth. That was the first sign before her fingers in his hair began to tug at the roots in a stinging pull, and toes curled. Her pussy clung to the shape of his cock, his cum overflowing around himself and dripping down to the bed under her ass as she gushed around him. His oversensitivity had him crying out a call of her name, her pulsing walls almost too hot to handle as she came around him. 
He could have done this all night, Harry decided. He could have pet his fingers over her clit and pressed into her walls for hours if not for the fact that they were both beginning to see the less than favorable side of sensitivity. 
"'M gonna pull out, okay?" he panted, blinking his eyes open to find his (Y/N)'s still shuttered. She answered in a quiet nod, her lips parted as she breathed. 
Though it was a bit reluctant, he drew his hips back in a slow glide. His softening cock slipped out with a wet sound as (Y/N) unfurled her legs from around him. A small whine left her lips, but she didn't stop him, only clinging to him.
Settling in bed beside her, reaching for one of the pillows stationed at the head of the bed, Harry fixed it under their heads. (Y/N) instinctively rolled to face him, sharing the cushion with him. He gave her time as she came down, brushing his fingers through her hair and over the planes of her features until she managed to crack her eyes open. 
"Hi, you," he smiled, repeating her small tease from earlier. 
A plume of laughter fell from her lips, a slight smile forming on her kiss-swollen lips. "Hi. What are you up to?" 
"Nothing. Jus' looking at you." 
"Nothing important then, I see," she laughed, snuggling closer to him until Harry was collecting her into his arms with her head tucked into his neck.
"Very important, actually," he corrected, amusement draining from his tone, "Thank you, peach. Really." 
"You don't have to thank me, H," she countered, "I obviously got my own benefits out of this, so don't think I just did this for you." 
He knew she was trying to play with him, get him to loosen up, but he wasn't in the mood for that just yet. He was a touch too sentimental at the moment. 
"You know what I mean," he murmured, planting a kiss to the top of her head, "I jus' love you, and... always means a lot when y'trust me, and let me be with you. Thank you." 
"I love you, too, Harry," she reciprocated, her own arms giving him a pulsing hug, "It's easy to trust you, really. I wouldn't want to have these kinds of moments with anyone else—you're the best thing that ever happened to me, honey." 
Though he knew they needed to change her bedding, and blow out the candle in the bathroom, get (Y/N) cleaned up, and mop up the bathroom, Harry couldn't find any good reason to extract himself from her arms. 
There would never be a good enough reason that came above being with her like this. 
—————
ahhhhh! thank u sm for reading and to whoever requested this! sorry for any mistakes and if you have any fun ideas or requests of your own please send them in!! if you want to read more, you can check my patreon page:)
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astrakim · 4 days ago
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Just Because I Love You
Pairing: Jay (enhypen) x Reader
Genre: Fluff, Domestic, Romance
Length: ~2.4k
Warnings: None — just comfort, affection, and love
summary: Jay doesn’t need a special occasion to spoil you—breakfast in bed, soft kisses, warm hoodies, and all the little things that say I love you without ever saying a word. But when you remind him that love goes both ways, he realizes being cared for feels just as good as giving it.
Reblogs and Likes are really appreciated!
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You woke up to the smell of cinnamon.
Still half-asleep, you blinked at the ceiling and reached across the bed—your hand met empty sheets. Jay’s side was cold.
That was weird. He never left before you did. Especially on a Sunday.
Dragging the blanket off you, you padded into the hallway in one of his hoodies, your hair probably a mess, socks mismatched. The music playing from the kitchen was soft—something jazzy—and the smell of whatever he was making was enough to make your stomach growl.
And there he was. Jay. Standing in front of the stove with a pan in one hand and a spatula in the other, looking unfairly attractive for someone who’d clearly been up for a while. Hair a bit messy, sleeves rolled up, and focused like he was on some cooking show. Flour dusted the counter. Maybe his cheek too.
You just leaned against the wall and watched him for a second. This was the kind of moment people wrote about. The kind of moment you didn’t want to mess up by talking too soon.
“I can feel you staring,” he said, not even turning around.
You smiled. “You weren’t in bed.”
Jay turned to you, that familiar soft grin already on his face. “I didn’t wanna wake you. You looked peaceful.”
“You made breakfast?”
“I made your favorite French toast,” he said, walking over and kissing your forehead like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Extra cinnamon. Whipped cream on top. The good kind.”
You tried not to melt on the spot. “Jay…”
“Sit. I’ll get your coffee too. With that cinnamon sprinkle you like.”
You sat. What else could you do? There was something about the way Jay moved, how he took care of things without making a big deal of it. He didn’t treat you like a princess—but he did treat you like someone who mattered. Like someone he was proud to love.
He placed the mug in front of you and gave you that look again—the one where his eyes softened just slightly, as if even seeing you like this, sleepy and barefoot, was enough for him.
“You’re spoiling me,” you said, biting into the toast and almost groaning at how good it was. “Seriously.”
“I like taking care of you,” he said, shrugging like it wasn’t a big deal. “It makes me happy.”
You couldn’t help but look at him for a second too long. “You make it really hard for me not to fall in love with you over and over.”
He smiled without saying anything, just sat beside you and reached for your hand under the table, lacing his fingers with yours.
---
The rest of the day was just... soft.
You didn’t have plans to go out, and Jay made it clear that today was “a stay-in-and-do-nothing” kind of day. Except he had clearly planned things anyway.
Like when you went back to the room and realized he’d set it up for a mini movie night—blankets layered on the floor, pillows everywhere, fairy lights glowing along the curtains. And your favorite snacks in a basket beside the couch.
“You did all this for me?” you asked, trying to hide the way your heart squeezed in your chest.
Jay just rubbed the back of his neck. “I just thought... you’ve had a rough week. I wanted to make today easy.”
He even let you pick the movie—The Proposal, your guilty-pleasure rom-com. And he didn’t tease you when you cried near the end. Just pulled you closer and kissed the top of your head.
“I love how big your heart is,” he whispered against your hair.
You turned to him. “Jay, you’re literally the dream boyfriend people wish for.”
He chuckled. “I don’t know about that.”
“No, I’m serious. You remember the things I like without me asking. You check in on me even when you’re busy. You show up. You’re soft with me. You make me feel safe without even trying.”
Jay blinked at you for a second, like he was taking that in.
“I don’t want you to think you have to do any of that to keep me, you know,” you added quickly. “I’d still love you if you didn’t do all these things.”
“I know,” he said, pulling you into him until your head rested against his chest again. “That’s the best part. You never ask me to do any of this. You just let me love you the way I want to.”
You stayed like that for a long time, the movie still playing in the background, his heartbeat steady under your cheek. You liked this part of the relationship the most—not the gifts or the surprises, but the quiet things. The way he let you exist beside him and still made it feel like you were the center of his world.
After the movie ended, he turned to you. “Hey. I have one more thing.”
You groaned. “Jay.”
“No, no—this one’s small. Promise.”
He handed you a gift bag from under the couch. Inside was a cream hoodie you’d tried on ages ago and decided against because it was “too pricey for something so simple.”
You looked up at him, stunned. “How do you remember everything?”
He shrugged again, sheepish. “You looked really happy in it. That stuck with me.”
You set the bag aside and pulled him into a hug, your arms wrapping tight around his waist. “Thank you.”
“For the hoodie?” he asked.
“No. For everything.”
---
That night, you curled up in bed beside him, wearing the hoodie and one of his T-shirts underneath. He pulled you close, one arm tucked under your head, the other around your waist.
You could feel him playing with the hem of your hoodie absentmindedly.
“I know I’m a little extra sometimes,” he said quietly. “I just… I never want you to forget how much I love you. How grateful I am.”
You tilted your head up and kissed him, slow and warm.
“You don’t have to try so hard, Jay. But you still do. And that means more than anything.”
His smile was a little shy. “So... does this mean you’re gonna let me cook you breakfast again tomorrow?”
“No,” you said, pulling the blanket over the two of you. “Tomorrow I’m cooking. You’re the one getting spoiled.”
“Oh god,” he teased. “I should be scared, shouldn’t I?”
“Terrified.”
Jay laughed, arms tightening around you. “As long as I get to spend the day with you, I’ll risk it.”
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©astrakim
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thoughtfulfiction · 7 months ago
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Little Duckling
Author’s note: reposting my old work on this side blog! Let me know if you’d like to read a specific one. Thank you for reading!
Warning: pregnancy and childbirth
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Saturday 10pm
Justin had been asleep for almost two hours as you folded laundry and put it away in the nursery. Your induction was scheduled for Monday morning promptly at 8am and everyone within the Chargers organization knew that this was happening because your husband absolutely hated taking the day off. But this was understandably a special exception to the rule. You’d spent the last 9 months mentally and physically preparing yourself for this moment but the idea of having a human being relying on you for everything was still such a daunting task that you almost wished the day wouldn’t come. Not until you felt completely prepared at least.
And then the ache in your back and hips reminded you that your baby girl was quickly running out of room and would be making her entrance soon, whether you and your husband were ready or not. On the bright side, your stomach had dropped significantly in the last few days, allowing you to breathe easier and for Justin to poke fun at your pronounced waddle. He affectionately started calling you Mumble last week, from Happy Feet. The dad jokes were coming in strong.
You heaved yourself out of the chair you were parked in and were headed off to bed before a slight pain wrapped itself around the base of your stomach. The pressure moved from the back to the front, settling on a spot underneath your belly button. You stopped walking and used the wall to support yourself, rubbing small circles around the area until it passed. As a Braxton-Hicks veteran, you continued your trek to the bedroom, completed your nighttime routine and headed off to bed.
Sunday 2am
It happened again. The slight twinge of discomfort had you holding your breath for about 15 seconds before letting go and you had to take several deep breaths to recover. After a few minutes everything was normal again and you had to turn around to make sure that Justin was still asleep next to you. Throughout your pregnancy he’d become a much lighter sleeper, often waking up at ungodly hours to get you snacks or a few nights when you caught him talking to your belly, whether it was talking about the playbook or just telling her he couldn’t wait to meet her, it warmed your heart just the same. But you were thankful for now that he just missed that entire exchange because you were definitely not in labor…right?
Sunday 7am
You were definitely in labor. On a Sunday, when the Chargers were playing the Broncos at home. Of course. You’d experienced three contractions so far, just about four hours apart so you had plenty of time. There was no way in hell you were telling Justin. As soon as it was appropriate, you scooted yourself out of bed and went down to the home gym for some prenatal yoga and a good stretch, hoping it would provide a boost of positive energy. Then you hopped in the shower, allowing the warm water would relax your tense muscles and maybe help you delay the inevitable.
By 8:30 Justin was awake and making breakfast for the two of you while you sat on the couch watching New Girl. He brought your plate and a cup of orange juice to you which you were grateful for, but the thought of putting anything but the juice in your body made your stomach turn.
“Are you alright? You’ve barely touched your avocado toast and you’ve been devouring it the last few days.” He ran a gentle hand on your forehead like he was checking your temperature and caressed your cheek when he realized you weren’t abnormally warm. “I can make you something else before I leave if you want?”
“No, I’m fine! Just not hungry yet, I’ll probably eat later.” You lied through your teeth, desperately hoping that he would let it go. The excuse seemed to satisfy him enough for him to head back upstairs to watch some film and get ready. An hour and a half later, he headed downstairs just in time to find you stretching out your back, the cramp beginning to wash over you.
He replaced your hands with his own, slightly lifting your stomach to take the weight off for a bit. “Your stomach is hard as a rock,” he observed furrowing his brows and starting to piece things together. “Are you sure everything is ok?” His soft voice attempted to mask his worry filled words.
“Yeah I’m having a fake contraction, you know they’re so common these days.” You rushed out, attempting to use his extensive research against him. He could probably write his own version of “What to Expect When You’re Expecting” with his newfound pregnancy knowledge. It was both impressive and scary how much he had grown to know what’s going on in your body before you did.
Although he nods his head in understanding, his face is still full of distress. And you could tell he was analyzing your words and tone of voice for any sign that you were lying, leaving you to mentally curse at the fact that he knew you so well and you’d need to work extra hard to convince him to go on like this was a normal day.
Although he let out a deep sigh, he didn’t ask any further questions. “I know, I just hate the thought of you being in pain and there’s nothing I can do about it.”
You tap his wrist so he can slowly drop your belly and you turn around in his arms. “You’re so cute, but it really isn’t that bad. A lot less painful than playing with ankle that’s hanging on by a shoestring I can tell you that.” You chuckle, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your back and you felt compelled to return the favor, sensing he too needed some comfort. “Here’s what’s gonna happen today though. You are going to go and kick Denver’s ass then you’re going to come home, we’ll celebrate and then tomorrow you’ll be on your way to being the greatest dad to ever live. How does that sound?”
Justin chuckles, giving you a peck on the lips, nose and forehead. “If I’m half as good a parent as I know you will be, then I know I’ll be golden.”
“Stop it before I start crying, you know I’m super hormonal right now this isn’t fair.” You mumble, tears brimming your eyes. He gives you one last kiss before reminding you to call your friend Dani to stay with you, even though your moms were on their way to your home.
Once he pulled out of the driveway you could relax, letting out a deep sigh and patting your swollen middle. Crisis averted.
For now.
Sunday 12pm
Contractions were officially every hour and Dani was trying her best not to freak out in order not to freak you out. But she was definitely freaking out. What started out as more intense period cramps were becoming a lot sharper, so much so that you couldn’t even focus on Encanto, which was the last sign you needed to know that this was the real thing. You did manage to eat a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and take a nap while she was with you, fluffing your pillows and telling you that you were doing amazing. Three hours later, there was a knock at the door and Dani went to open it for Holly and your mom. The two becoming best friends was probably the cutest thing in the world and your mom had even flown to Oregon three days before just to spend time with Holly and drive to California with her. They were the sweetest. And of course they brought snacks. There were lactation cookies for you in the freezer already but they brought more and they brought an abundance of food to eat during the game, which usually would have made your day, but today all it did was make you want to stick your face in the toilet.
You greeted the two women with hugs as Dani helped set up their spread and they immediately asked how you were feeling.
“I just woke up not too long ago so I’m feeling great now. Very ready to not be pregnant anymore so I can see my f—ohhh wow. Ow.” You groaned, one hand on your contracting belly and the other gripping the counter for dear life.
Dani’s eyes bug out of her head as she moves to rub your back. “That was the roughest one yet.” She was right, this one left your whole body sore, a loud reminder that things were definitely moving along.
“This one?” Your mom questions, looking between you and Dani. Then, she and Holly exchange a look.
“Oh my gosh sweetie, you’re in labor!” Holly exclaims, “we need to get a hold of Justin immediately. I’ll call Mark, I’m sure he’s already at the stadium.”
You cannot shake your head fast enough, “there’s no need to call him yet, that was the first bad one. And this game is important.”
“It’s Justin hun, every game is important,” Holly laughs, giving you a loving squeeze.
“But you know what’s even more important to him? You and that baby girl that’s getting ready to meet us soon. Are you sure you don’t want to tell him now?”
“I’m sure,” you sigh, allowing your mom to guide you back to the couch, sinking down into it with a groan. “Once the game is over he’ll be here and we’ll go have a baby. But not a moment before.”
Admittedly, it was getting harder to focus. Justin was playing great, but of course so was Bo Nix. The Chargers would score and the Broncos would answer. The Broncos would get a stop and the Chargers would force a punt. You were entertained but the battle happening within you was the most interesting one to the people in your house.
Your mom had gone down to find your birthing ball, which helped for about half a quarter, just in time for a Ladd McConkey touchdown to put the Chargers up by 10. By the end of the third you were forced into a squat behind one of the couches, spreading your legs to hopefully ease the increasing pressure on your hips. You breathed through the contraction, the sensation sending a pins and needles feeling near your tailbone. Holly made sure you stayed hydrated, having secretly texted her husband halfway through the fourth quarter when the game was firmly in hand to have their son home as soon as humanly possible. Contractions creeped on 30 minutes apart, leaving you panting and groaning in discomfort until your muscles relaxed.
Fifteen minutes later, you were pacing around the living room and you had to stop to hold onto the couch again, your mom helping you roll your hips as you felt thin beads of sweat building around your hairline. Things were getting real and scary and you needed Justin.
“What time is it?” You murmured, cupping your stomach with a hiss as the baby moved.
“It’s 7:15 and he’s on his way home, baby.” Your mom whispers, sensing your increasing distress, “he’ll be here soon.”
“My back hurts,” you state suddenly, a slight tremble in your voice. “Everything really hurts.”
Your mom grabs at your hips, squeezing them together to apply counter pressure, giving you momentary relief.
Dani was in charge of timing contractions and all you knew was the moment in between them where you could actually form a coherent thought. Time was no longer real. You headed upstairs for some time to yourself and a wave of nausea hit you and you emptied probably everything you’d eaten the entire day, which in hindsight probably wasn’t much. But you weren’t in the headspace to think clearly right now. You walked back towards to the bedroom and clutched the doorway, visibly feeling the heaviness of the baby moving down, almost sending you to your knees if it weren’t for the solid, calming presence that was suddenly in front of you.
“Hey babe.” You breathe out, feeling a little unsure that your legs were capable of holding you up until you could sit on the bed.
He pulled you into his arms as close as your belly would allow and pressed his lips your forehead. “Hi. Glad I could make it back in time. I knew something was off with you this morning,” he narrowed his eyebrows at you when he pulled away, walking you slowly back into the room placing a firm hand on the small of your back, making circles with it while holding your hand with the other. “Alright baby…how long have you been in labor?”
You let out a dry laugh at his disappointed dad look. “Since 10 last night I think? But let’s focus on the important things, you played great and you won but man you guys really took a minute to shut the door on ‘em.”
“Right, the important things.” He says with a knowing smile. “I know you love football as much as I do now, but if you told me earlier I would’ve been at your side in a heartbeat. You know that, right?”
God, you hoped your baby had his caring heart. “I do know that, I really do. But I also knew that you’d be able to do both. The Chargers are your family too and—”
A contraction creeped up on you, leaving you to hold onto your husband’s forearms with a sharp sound of pain, the pressure reaching an overwhelming peak that you hadn’t experienced before.
“Squeeze as much as you want, it’s okay.” His voice attempts to soothe you but you couldn’t hear him over the animalistic grunt that escaped you. Your body tensed involuntarily and he could see your stomach hardening as the tension continued to build. There was nothing more he could do than hold you through it, until something gave way and the floodgates opened…literally.
Even he sounded breathless by the end of it. “Your water just broke.”
Sunday 10pm
Contractions in the house were terrible. But contractions in the car, with no cushion from the water bag made it feel like she was right between your legs.
“Justin, you have to go faster. Please.” You panted out, desperately clutching the grab handle and leaning your head back with a loud moan. “Can you turn on the air, I’m dying in here. And I need to put the seat back, my back is killing me, I’m sorry.” You felt like a turtle stuck on its back, waiting for someone to turn it over and set it free.
“Yeah, yeah do whatever you need. And you don’t need to apologize,” he pats you on the leg, “do whatever makes you comfortable, we’ll be there soon.” He kept looking between you and the road, slightly worried that he’d have to deliver the baby in the car. The only thing that slightly reassured him the whole drive was your sigh of relief when the fan came on. First babies were supposed to take a while but he’d missed the entirety early labor, so from the sounds that he was hearing he figured you were in or at the very least extremely close to the transition stage. His grip on the steering wheel tightened and remained that way until the birthing center came into view. Your parents had called ahead and would meet you there when given the word, so all you had to do was check in and you were brought to your private suite.
Seven centimeters dilated and without painkillers made your husband question any football toughness he thought he had. You were so close to meeting your baby and he was a mix of anxiousness, nerves and excitement. Most of all he felt so much love and admiration for your determination and strength. Holding off on telling him you were in labor so he could be there to get the job done with his teammates was one thing and it was a complete whirlwind to be there with you while you worked to bring your baby into the world.
Once he was finally able to tear his eyes off the baby’s heart monitor, all of his focus was back on you. He wasn’t going to say anything but the agony in your voice was really starting to take a toll on him. Months of mental preparation for this moment was nothing like the real thing and he felt utterly helpless, desperately trying to maintain some sort of control and be helpful in any way.
“Honey you’re shaking, are you cold?” Without even giving you time to answer he was up on his feet, reaching for his bag to grab the blanket he’d seen you drape over yourself on several movie night occasions.
You shake your head while your teeth continue to chatter, reaching for his left hand, “I think it’s the adrenaline. I’m okay I promise,” you shift uncomfortably in bed, trying to just go along with how your body is feeling and reacting. Your belly tightens, a white hot pain generating an unexpected moan as you palmed your stomach. Justin places his hand on top of yours, whispering to you that the contraction is almost over and constantly reminding you that you’re doing great.
The two of you decided to use gravity to your advantage and walk around the building since the entire floor was closed off at your husband’s request. He couldn’t risk anyone leaking the most private and cherished moment in his life.
“I can’t believe this is our last night as a duo.” Justin whispers, walking at a snail’s pace while you waddled alongside him. “It’s been a great ride, pal.”
“Wouldn’t want to do it with anyone else. And I have a feeling this ride is going to get a lot more interesting from here on out.” You gave your belly a soothing pat.
He strokes your back as you sway your hips again, “thank you for choosing me to be the one that gets to do this with you. I love you so much.”
“I love you too, more than anything in the world.” You grin, pulling him in for a soft kiss. His hand cups your face as he pulls you in even closer. The kiss oozed joy and gratitude. Your husband wasn’t a man of many words, but his actions spoke volumes.
You squeeze his arm again suddenly as pain bubbles deep in your core and you rip yourself away from him to press your lips together to stifle a yell. “We need to get back to the room. Now.”
The noises leaving your body would have horrified you if you weren’t already sitting backwards on the toilet wearing only an oversized t-shirt, with your legs spread and the man of your dreams digging his thumbs into your back. “Harder please,” you groan, feeling like your tailbone is seconds away from shattering.
“I’m not getting a break,” you cry, clenching your jaw, leaning back and asking him to help you up. He hooks his hands under your arms and basically lifts you to your feet. “It’s not stopping, I can’t—oh fuck.” It felt like you were going to throw up, but out of the other end, which could only mean one thing. “She’s—Justin she’s coming right now. I have to push.” You took a breath and focused completely inward, your entire body going rigid, shaky straining sounds of effort pouring out of you.
The quarterback immediately sprang into action,“easy babe, breathe. I’ve got you.”
You held onto one of his hands and moved into a squat on your shaky legs as he pressed the red button on the side of the bathroom door, allowing your midwife to come in.
The baby felt like it was seconds away from falling out, everything suddenly feeling like it was moving a mile a minute. The midwife was saying something but the ringing in your ears was so loud you couldn’t focus on anything but getting your baby delivered.
After another throaty shove, you came back to yourself a little, feeling a gentle hand rubbing your shoulder. “Babe? You gotta slow down. Take a second, I can already see her a little bit you can give yourself some time.”
“I can’t, the pressure is too much!” Tucking your chin to your chest, you let out a yelp as you push again, using him as a solid wall to rest against as you spread your legs to give your baby more room. “Holy fuck your baby is huge,” your husband and the midwife both laugh, “I’m sorry it’s just—this is really hard.”
Pushing felt good, even though it left you shaking like a leaf in a cold and sweaty frenzy. At some point during the delivery he’d pushed your hair back with his lucky headband that was always around his wrist if it wasn’t on his head. It was the most intense experience of your life but you took one look at those bright green eyes and he reminded you that he was with you the entire time and you knew you could do anything with him by your side.
Remington Grace Herbert was born Monday morning at 1:42am with those exact same eyes that you fell in love with.
“Hi Remi,” Justin sobs, kissing her cheek. “We’ve been waiting for you, baby girl.”
“She sure knows how to make an entrance.”
You hand her off to her dad after scooting over to give him more room on the bed. He wraps a free arm around you, securely holding her in his other one, totally in awe. “She’s so perfect. You’re perfect. You did so amazing, I’m so freaking proud of you.” He kisses the side of your head.
You cuddle into him with a content sigh, “Our perfect little duckling is finally here.”
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fizzyapplecandy · 3 months ago
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The one with the vampire royals and their doll Part 6
Series masterlist
Ateez Seonghwa X Hongjoong X Reader
Genres and warnings: vampire Matz, strangers to lovers, human reader, fluff, mature language, angst, mild smut, poly relationships, woosang relationship
Word count: 3k
You finally meet Yeosang's boyfriend Wooyoung, but the night doesn't turn out how you expected.
There was once a time you were on summer break before the last year of high school. Yeosang was away on vacation with his parents, leaving you to your own devices. Ten days seemed like ten years when you only had one friend.
You genuinely felt alone. It might be pathetic to say, people deal with more serious things than you, but the feeling of loneliness was present. Your mom and dad never took the time to do something with you. Not even mundane things like making breakfast, sitting in the garden, going shopping... Morning til nightfall, you were on your own.
Your books were the only thing keeping you occupied, but honestly, the fiction was doing you more bad than good.
There was once a time when you wished to meet your prince Charming. Someone who would do the most mundane things with you, like laying in bed, talking for hours on end. Someone who would be there for you when times were tough, a person who would wrap their arms around you and tell you everything will be okay.
Never in your life had you imagined that you'd get two handsome men wrapped around your finger, without even realising it.
There wasn't a moment you felt lonely in the past couple of days. Hongjoong was there in the morning, a takeaway breakfast in hand for you, but never for him. His reason being he ate at home with his husband, as it was something they always did together. You got to know each other better, having small talk while you nibbled on your waffles, or muffins. He always opened your door for you, leaving a lingering touch on your cheek before making sure you were inside the shop before he went off.
Seonghwa was there in the evening, always taking a detour and showing you more of his favourite places in town. He had a homemade dinner in his hands, and he made sure you ate and enjoyed it by questioning you tomorrow when he came to take you home. He told you it was constructive criticism, because he had to know all of your preferences. Seonghwa usually left a chaste kiss on your open palm, watching you as you entered your building. Once he knew you were safe and sound, he went on his way.
Yeosang made sure to stop by during the day, but he had a needy boyfriend (his words, not yours) and he couldn't stay for long.
Somehow, someway, because of them, you didn't feel so alone anymore. It was an unfamiliar feeling, and you suppose it wouldn't be bad to get used to it.
The weekend was fast approaching, and the two men were eagerly waiting for your answer to their invitation on Sunday. Seonghwa was already gushing about the dinner he would make you, but Hongjoong wanted to treat you to a fancy meal because you deserved it. You guessed they hadn't come to an agreement, because their stories never matched.
It made you feel a bit special, and it was a funny feeling. Something you never felt before, and something you'd love to keep feeling. You somehow gained two... Friends, you guess. Friends who call your future outing a 'date' for some reason.
You decided you'd tell Seonghwa your answer when he came by tonight. He would pass the message onto Hongjoong, and you hoped he wouldn't be mad you hadn't told him first.
However, before you could think about the two of them, you had to survive Saturday night with Yeosang and his boyfriend. It was Friday now, so your nerves were starting to get the best of you. On top of it, out of all the things you could be doing, you were going bowling. You pleaded with Yeosang to do anything else, because you've never been bowling, and you weren't planning on embarrassing yourself. His boyfriend Wooyoung was persistent, so there were no changes made. What should you even wear to a bowling alley?
Before you could get even more lost in your thoughts, you heard the familiar sound of Hongjoong's car pulling up in front of the shop. Wait...
Hongjoong? Wasn't it Seonghwa's turn?
"Hey there doll. Try not to look so disappointed." He chuckled.
You quickly snapped out of your daze, noticing the slight nervousness about his posture. Was he really worried you weren't happy to see him?
"N-No, I'm not disappointed. Just confused, usually Seonghwa comes in the evening." You grabbed your keys and bag from the counter and followed Hongjoong out, locking up behind you.
"Seonghwa had to... Take care of something. He sends his best regards, and misses you already."
Hongjoong held the car door open for you, and you lifted your hands to give him access to the seatbelt. You already knew the routine, and you were tired of protesting. They knew you could do everything by yourself, but they reminded you it wasn't needed while they were around. So, you just gave in.
Once he was settled in, he grabbed a bag from the back seat.
"He also sends dinner. Forgive me, I can't remember the name of the dish, but it's something Italian. Or did he say French?" He furrowed his eyebrows, trying his hardest to remember what his husband said.
You smiled, taking the little bag from him.
"I'm sure it's delicious, and that's all that matters. Thank him for me, please. You two are too kind. I'd like to cook something for you, sometime. You know, if you want." You stuttered a bit, unsure if they'd like your simple, easy meals. Seonghwa always made something that was too hard to pronounce, but you figured a man like him knew his way around fine cuisine.
Hongjoong's gaze softened, and he placed his cold hand on yours.
"You don't have to trouble yourself, but that would be lovely. I'm sure we'd eat..." He stilled for a second, glancing at your neck, listening to your heartbeat speeding up.
"We'd eat anything you make." Somehow, he managed to control himself long enough to start the car and make his journey to your home.
"I'll hold you to that. Now, there is something I wanted to tell Seonghwa, but I'll tell you, you can pass it on to him."
"I'm all ears, princess." His hand lightly squeezed yours, and you suddenly felt nervous.
"You know how you've asked me about a date? Well, I'm free on Sunday, if the offer is still up."
If Hongjoong's heart were still beating, it would have skipped one right this moment. Were you finally ready to let them worship you? Was he reading too much into it? Maybe you just wanted to get it over with so they stop being persistent?
"Hongjoong? Are you okay? I think it isn't smart to stop the car in the middle of the street."
He snapped out of his thoughts, coming back to the present and seeing his car turned off. You were confused, and he could tell you were anxious.
"I'm... I'm so sorry. You kind of caught me off guard. Not in a bad way! It's just..."
He cleared his throat, surprised at how giddy he actually was.
"I'm really happy about your answer. Seonghwa will be too."
The ride home resumed without a hitch, and his hand never left yours. You talked about your day, feeling lighter as the conversation went on. Hongjoong had a way of making you relax, let go of your worries, and only focus on the moment you're in. It was like a superpower, and you even told him so yesterday. He laughed, obviously, but you didn't know how overjoyed he felt by that. You were becoming someone important to him, and your opinion mattered.
Your ride ended too soon for your liking, and as you were waving at him from the entrance, you phone rang in your pocket. Without much thought, you blew Hongjoong a kiss and made your way inside.
He almost tore off his steering wheel. Oh, Hwa's going to be so jealous when he tells him.
You, on the other hand, had no time to dwell on your actions because Yeosang began yapping away as soon as you picked up the call.
"Y/N, babe, he's been driving me crazy all day. He's changed his outfit for tomorrow fifteen times! Fifteen! I don't even have that many outfits in my closet right now. I'm telling you, I'm an outfit away from strangling him!"
"Okay, okay! Calm down! The guy wants to make a good first impression, I should be flattered."
You unlocked your door and hurriedly took of your jacket and shoes.
"I know, but... I can't deal with it anymore." There was a crash heard somewhere in the background of the call, and Yeosang almost screamed.
"Oh my God! Did you break the closet door? Again?"
You barely held in your laugh.
"Sangie, go save your apartment before your boyfriend trashes it. And tell him I also don't have a clue what to wear, so I get it. Bye bye!"
His protests were cut off as you hung up, and you breathed a sigh of relief. Judging by Yeosang's stories, Wooyoung was a special character. Bowling might not sound as such a bad idea after all.
.
.
Of course they were late.
You spent the whole day getting ready, finally choosing a comfortable, but cute outfit you could move in. However, as always, you didn't bring a good enough jacket. Seonghwa would be disappointed in you, definitely. He always chastised you about forgetting to bring warm enough clothes as the weather was getting colder by the day.
They texted you today, telling you to have a great time, and reminding you one thing - You were theirs tomorrow. They wouldn't tell you anything more about the date, only that you should dress in some fancy clothes. Nothing major, but just so you know the vibe.
Before you could get too into your head, you heard the voice of your best friend.
"Hey Y/N! Sorry we're late, the queen had a last minute outfit change."
"I don't like the tone of your voice baby."
Your jaw almost hit the floor. Where on Earth did Yeosang manage to find himself such a hottie?
The man was a bit taller than you, almost Hongjoong's height. His black hair was a bit long, running wild in the wind, and you didn't know if he accidentally forgot to button all of his shirt buttons.
What impressed you was the unique colour of his eyes. They were almost... Purple? Like a dark gray with a slight hue. Maybe he wore contacts, because you've never seen anything like that before.
The handsome man turned towards you and smirked.
"Well hello there, you must be the lovely Y/N. Yeosang's been telling me a lot about you." He extended his hand and you reached for it. You thought it would be a simple handshake, but he lifted your hand and pressed a kiss on your knuckles.
"O-Oh... Yes, that's me. You're Wooyoung? Nice to finally meet you."
Before Wooyoung could open his mouth, your best friend grabbed you both and directed you towards the door of the bowling alley.
"We can chitchat inside, I'm freezing. Y/N! Where is your jacket?"
"Sorry, Sangie. I forgot it again, you know how I am."
He just shook his head.
"You and Woo can join the same club. This guy never wears a jacket, always borrows mine."
Wooyoung took Yeosang by the hand.
"Can't you see I have a hidden agenda going on?"
The boys looked at each other, and you almost swooned. There was a certain spark between them, and you could tell Yeosang was genuinely happy to be with him.
The three of you changed your shoes and sat on one of the tables in the back. Wooyoung was in charge of drinks, and it gave you a minute alone with your friend.
"So, what do you think? He's a bit... Out there, but he's a good person."
You smiled. "I think he's perfect for you. I've never seen you get so red before, your face is on fire!" He lightly patted his cheeks, feeling embarrassed.
"Oh, Sangie... Love looks good on you." You took his hands in yours, and he glanced at them, looking confused.
"Where's your million dollar bracelet at? You haven't left the house without it since your admirers gave it to you."
You glanced at your bare wrist. "It's in my bag. I took it off as a precaution, you know how clumsy I get."
He nodded. "Good choice."
"I'm back, did you miss me? I brought drinks!"
Wooyoung slid into the seat beside his boyfriend and placed his arm across his shoulders.
"So, Y/N. Yeosang tells me you own a shop? You sell antiques?"
You nodded and the conversation began flowing easily. Wooyoung was laid back, and he shared many stories about his travels abroad. You didn't quite catch what he did for a living, but judging by his jewellery, it was well payed.
Bowling wasn't as difficult as it looked, and with a little help from the boys, you managed to score one strike. It may not be much for someone, but you were overjoyed. You couldn't wait to brag about it in front of Hongjoong and Seonghwa.
Speaking about them, you wondered how they'd get along with Wooyoung and Yeosang. You kind of thought about it for a second, and it was a nice picture.
"Where did you wander off to?" Wooyoung asked.
You shook your head to clear your thoughts and waved him off.
"Nowhere important. I do this sometimes, sorry."
He smiled and glanced at his expensive watch afterwards.
"Hey, it's getting a bit late. Want to go grab something to eat? We can drive Y/N home afterwards." Yeosang nodded, looking over at you.
"Some food would be great. I'm exhausted, to be honest. Bowling is tough."
The three of you shared a laugh before going over to the front to change your shoes and pay for your drinks.
You glanced at your phone seeing messages from Seonghwa asking if you needed a ride home. He was clearly sad he didn't get to see you yesterday, so he wanted to make up for lost time. He'd just have to wait one more day. Typing out a quick response, you placed your phone in your bag. That's when you noticed your bracelet inside.
"Hey Sangie, help me out, you know I can't do a clasp on my own."
You took the bracelet out, and before Yeosang could even come close, Wooyoung was in front of you.
The air suddenly shifted.
"Y/N... Where did you get this?"
Wooyoung grabbed your hand to take a closer look, and you were surprised at how strong his grip was.
"Y/N! How do you have this?"
Yeosang was in shock, as were you. He stepped closer to Wooyoung, trying to talk to him.
"Baby, let Y/N go. She'll tell you, just take it easy. It's a stupid bracelet."
Wooyoung's eyes never left yours, and it seemed like he didn't even register Yeosang's words.
"I-It was a gift."
His purple eyes bore into yours, so intense it brought a sting of tears to your own. His grip had yet to loosen.
"Who gave it to you? I won't ask again."
What on Earth was going on? Yeosang tried pulling his boyfriend to the side, but he wouldn't budge.
"H-His name is S-Seonghwa. Please let me go."
As if he was struck by lightning, he jumped away from you, and his eyes almost bulging out of his head. He realised how he was behaving, and his heart shattered when he saw you clutching your wrist against your chest.
"Wooyoung, I love you, but you have to go now."
Both of you looked at Yeosang, face as cold as stone. Wooyoung's really fucked it now.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Y/N. I can't... Yeosang, I..."
You shook your head, gripping Yeosang's arm to make him look at you.
"Sangie, it's okay. I'm fine. Come on, it must have been a misunderstanding. We were about to go eat, right?"
Yeosang glanced at you, seemingly crestfallen.
"I'm not hungry anymore. Wooyoung, it's best if you leave. We'll talk tomorrow, I have to take my friend home."
Wooyoung's expression matched the one of a kicked puppy. You didn't want this to ruin anything between them, so you shook your head again.
"No, don't worry about it, I can get a ride. You two go on home. Everything's fine. Wooyoung, I'm sure you have a good reason for this behaviour, but forgive me, I'd like to hear it another time."
You pushed Yeosang towards his boyfriend, and he was about to protest before he saw your face. You were pleading with him to go, to not ruin something special he found. Wooyoung looked like he was about to cry, and you were certain there was a good explanation for everything.
The boys looked at each other, and Yeosang reluctantly nodded.
"Please text me when you get home. I assume one of the lover boys will get you there safely."
You smiled slightly. "Your guess would be right. Now, go. I had a great time tonight. Wooyoung?"
He looked at you, seemingly ready to fall to his knees and beg for forgiveness.
"Everything is going to be okay. We'll talk, alright?"
Wooyoung couldn't believe you were real. If you somehow got this bracelet as a gift, from none other than Seonghwa, it must mean you were special to them.
Oh, he's going to be in some hot water once they hear he's back in town.
He nodded, lightly placing a hand on Yeosang's waist and guiding him to the car.
"Thank you, Y/N. You're truly... Thank you."
You nodded, and off they went. The tension was clear, and you hoped they wouldn't get into an arguement over this.
They drove off, and you took your phone again, dialing a number you now remember by heart. Not even two rings later, he picked up.
"Doll? Is everything okay?"
"Hi, Seognhwa. How about that ride?"
.
.
In the process of editing, so bare with me!
Lots of love, and happy reading X
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