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#the little soothing pats to her arm
darkpoisonouslove · 1 year
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The way both their past is defined by mutual obsession between them and their greatest enemies and they're now at a tipping point where all that comes to a head and then to a close just in time for them to get married and build a life together.
#erda#og post#but bestie don't say the operation is at its culmination bc the last time someone said that all of this mess started and we're still here#he at least has the excuse of his job to be obsessed with bringing the mafia boss that's his greatest enemy to justice#but she hasn't shut up about her enemy from the beginning of the show#on the one hand i get it and she's def right that if that woman gets out of the psychiatric institution she'll come back to kill them all#but on the other hand that didn't happen and you're constantly haunted by her (which is understandable) but... it's not healthy#in other news they continue to be extremely adorable#the little soothing pats to her arm#“we might not have money but we have you and me and this big love blossoming between us”#the way she understands his need to finish this chase he's been obsessed with for years and never tried to talk him out of it#or out of his job regardless of how dangerous she knows it is; he decided to leave after he's done with this case on his own#she never hesitated to love him just because she could lose him to his job at any moment#(she's worried and she'd like him to stay with her but she still let him do what he needs to do)#the way he kissed her knuckles (several times)#the way his hand is on her arm and she covered it with her hand and they stay like that almost the entire scene#“this feels like a dream” “a dream that will become a reality”#the way he hugged her and kissed her head when she got upset about her friend's state
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kissforyouu · 5 months
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pent up stress
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pairing : husband!jungkook x wife!reader
genre : smut , fluff
warnings : there is a babyy , oc is a stressed mom , jk relieving all her stress , nicknames used : sweetheart/honey/my love , sexual : clit play , fingering , cum eating , making out , oral sex (f recieving) , lactation kink , p in v , mate press (?)
unedited.
"shh, shh, it's okay, baby."
you gently pat your baby's back, switching from patting it and rubbing it up and down every second.
"my baby, hmm, it's fine. don't cry, don't cry, my love." you rock your baby up and down while spinning around the room, walking back and forth, doing all sorts of things to calm the baby down.
"sweet baby." leaning your head down to press a soothing kiss onto your baby's forehead, then another, another, and another and so on. there's a small smile forming on your face once your baby calms down a little.
"come on, shhh. goodnight, my love..." you carry your baby to his nursery, tip toeing, not wanna risk anything as you slowly bend your body forward to place the sleeping baby on the crib. and just as you do that—
"waaaahhhhhhhh! "
ah. yeah. right.
quickly retrieving back to your old position, your hand immediately flies to lay on top of your baby's back meanwhile your other arm is wrapped around your baby's body.
letting out a sigh mixed with exhaustion, you press your baby's head onto your chest, letting him listen to your heartbeat. please go to sleep. earlier you read an article saying that letting the baby listen to the mother's heartbeat makes them sleep better. please work.
don't get me wrong. your son is the best the best thing that has ever happened to you. he's your everything and you've always wanted to be a mom. but sometimes, it's just so hard. but you're aware that this is not something you can avoid and is prone to happen. and seeing your son's cute bunny smile at the end of the day was worth all the struggles. no matter how exhausting it can get sometimes.
it was around 3am now, after all.
your back was pressed against the headboard as you cuddled your baby into your embrace. half lidded, you watch your turn his face from side to side on your chest, trying to find a comfortable position and a few small squeaks leaving him here and there.
there's a small smile on your face while you rub your baby's back soothingly. meanwhile also trying not to fall asleep on spot.
but just as you were about to go against your own words and fall asleep, the door creeps open, making you jolt back up to look for who it is, only to see your husband's head peaking from behind the door.
he walks in, taking big but silent steps towards you.
jungkook smiles, "how's my babyboy doing?"
"he's a very bad baby tonight." you huff with a small grin, playfully, "but i managed to put him to sleep."
jungkook giggles, leaning forward to press a kiss onto your sleeping baby's cheek. your son squeaks, shifting his face from one side to another while comfortably laying his head on your chest.
"gimme the baby, honey. i'll put him to in the cot. you should get ready for bed." he pats your hair, twirling one of your strands.
"hm, okay." you get up, gently placing the baby in your husband's arms. but then—
the baby suddenly yelps, fists clutching onto your shirt tightly. you're startled, but you handle the situation just fine.
"ah, ah, ah, my baby." you're groaning, you're tired. but it's okay. you look at jungkook, the dark circles around your eyes very clear, but it's okay.
"oh, come on, baby. come to papa, it's okay." jungkook hums a small tone, one that your son for sure likes, as you slowly sneak the baby into his arm.
without even noticing the change of positions, your baby just snuggles into the familiar warmth of your husband's chest.
sigh. you sigh, sitting back on the bed.
"get ready for bed, my love."
you nod, just getting up from the bed and walking back to your shared bedroom.
by the time jungkook manages to fully calm your baby down and place him in his crib and come back, he finds you still on the bed blankly staring at the wall.
he's confused. shouldn't you be in bed already?
"honey, what's this? not sleepy?" there's concern written all over his face.
"are you okay?"
the moment he asks that, he notices your face turning completely sour with a big pout forming on your face. oh no, he knows that face very well.
"hey, hey, what's wrong?" jungkook quickly rushes to sit next to you, his hand now on your back, rubbing up and down and flattening any wrinkles on your shirt.
without any warning, you pull your husband closer by his arm and hugs him tight, face buried deep in his neck.
"i feel so exhausted." a small mumble.
your husband sighs, immediately noticing the problem.
"i know, sweetheart, i know. it's okay. just calm down for now, hm?" he leans his back against the headboard, pulling you closer to his body as you curled up into a small ball and let yourself be comforted by your husband's soothing heartbeat.
"we had this talk before, remember? days like this are prone to happen. and we have to get through it somehow." he whispers into your ear, pressing kissing in between his sentences as well. you hum, lightly nodding your head, agreeing.
"it's for our little baby. you're the best mommy i know and ever will know. just imagine us telling sannie about how much of a hussle he was when he's older." he chuckles, placing kisses on the crown of your head.
you smile into his chest, nodding.
"it's for our sannie." you mumble and jungkook hums, gently massaging your head. jungkook brushes his fingers through your hair, gently, soothingly, almost making you fall asleep. he had his head leaned downwards, forehead pressed against the crown of your head as he planted small pecks all over your forehead and eyelids.
"jungkook." you pull on his shirt, slowly making your way out of his embrace.
he just hums, caressing your cheek so softly.
stop. you love him so much.
you touch his hand on your cheek, leaning forward to connect your lips with him. your husband immediately smiles into the kiss, his fingers holding your face so gently as your lips moved against eachother perfectly.
his tongue licks your lower lip, slowly sneaking its way in your mouth. the tip of your tongues meet eachother, smoothly gliding against eachother as you to make out. like, really hard.
there's soft little noises coming out of the smacks of your lips, both of you eating eachothers faces out. not being able to hold back, you whimper, your fingers gripping onto jungkook's biceps.
you makeout for a few more seconds then breaking out for air.
jungkook couldn't help but let out a small squeaky laugh.
and oh, that laugh. it brought you back to the days where you both were just two highschoolers starting to like eachother. made you feel like a little girl having her first crush.
thinking about that had you forming the biggest cheekiest smile on your lips.
jungkook was a little confused at your change of expressions, but he just smiles it off. you sit up on his lap again, pulling your husband in for another kiss.
so you kiss.
but then, jungkook manages to get you to lay down on your bed on your back and him slowly getting on top of you. almost sneakily.
breaking from your kiss, you groan, letting your head fall onto the bed. jungkook snickers, almost evil, body laying softly on top of yours as he pulls you into another kiss. now, your legs are crushing his thighs, caging him between them while both your hands gripped onto his shoulders.
while you both are eating out eachother's faces, jungkook's hand slithers under your baggy sweatshirt, massaging your soft stomach.
"hm..." he hums, squeezing your tummy fat.
you both open your eyes at the same time, jungkook breaking down to a small giggle again. the tip of your tongues brush past eachother over and over again. fuck, you're getting so hot. you bet your face is as red as a tomato right now.
your husband brings up his other hand to hold you face by your cheek, then his tongue leaves you for a brief moment—and instead, he spits a globe of spit down to your mouth.
"swallow."
gladly, you swallow it down, opening your mouth again with your tongue out to show that you've done as he said.
jungkook huffs, smirking—fuck, he's so breathtakingly attractive.
"my amazing little wife. best woman in the world. best mama." his words flutter your stomach entirely. you swear you could see the butterflies flying out of your stomach.
you just smile in return, and that's more than enough for him.
"are you feeling any better, my love?" jungkook caresses your cheek as if you were the most fragile being on earth, touching you with so much gentleness.
you just hum with a small nod. but your hand touches jungkook's one that was on your cheek, then you put his fingers in your mouth.
jungkook watches you with amusement as you wet his fingers with your saliva. once you felt satisfied enough, you pull his fingers out. lifting up the hem of your sweatshirt using your other hand, you glide jungkook's fingers down your body, leaving a small trail of saliva on your stomach.
once you've reached your pelvis, you lift up little shorts, pushing his hand inside.
"touch me, jungkook." you moan out.
and i swear to god, jungkook swore he's never ever seen his wife hotter than this moment. he felt all the blood rush down to his pants, his dick hardening each second.
"shit—" his voice was so breathy, "you're so hot. baby, i'm gonna lose my mind." he takes a deep breath before diving straight down to your neck. he begins to kiss and suck on your neck, nibbling here and there, biting too. meanwhile, jungkook also makes sure to add a little bit of pressure to your clit. not doing anything but just pressing onto it subtly. tease.
you moan as your husband continues to suck and bite all over your neck, leaving little hickeys all over.
"i need you so bad, kook. please take care of me..." the last bit of words leave you in a whisper. jungkook almost feels dizzy from your words, god he loved it so much.
"i'm so tired, hm. need you to make me cum to relax me." you're caressing the top of his cheek with the pad of your thumb.
jungkook loved seeing you needy.
"alright, honey." he places one final kiss on your forehead.
jungkook spreads your legs further apart, fingers skimming over your soft cotton shorts over and over. and once he sees the little wet spot in between your thighs, it almost makes him drip the drool out of his mouth.
"ahh, pretty." his thumb rubs over the wet spot, caressing it and pressing onto your clothed clit. through your shorts, jungkook pinches your clit, making you let out a small squeal.
"just get to it, hmph." you groan. jungkook's smirk just widens more. your husband nods, taking off your shorts.
"ah, fuck, prettiest pussy ever, baby." the tip of his fingers dips in between your mushy folds, collecting some of your arousal. he brings it to your clit to get it wet, then gently rubbing circles on top. you whimper, nodding.
jungkook lowers his body down, hooking his arm behind your thigh, hoisting it up a bit. his body lays fully flat on the bed, between your thighs with his face pressing kisses all over your thighs. he also bites your flesh, not too hard but not too soft— well, hard enough to form little marks for sure. he bites a spot on your thigh inches away from your pussy, then flicking his tongue on that area, gently sucking it afterwards.
like this, your husband makes sure to leave small hickeys all over your thighs and take his time. while you were left squirming and the puddle in between your thighs just growing and growing.
i thought you said no teasing?
jungkook swipes his thumb over one of your hickeys, caressing it and then leaning forward to press little kisses over it.
"love these fuckin' thighs."
and without a warning when your eyes were closed, your husband decides to dive into the messy in between your folds with a long lick.
"ah!" surprised, you hook your fingers into jungkook's hair. he hums, licking stripes of your pussy. kitten licking your hole, his fingers tease your clit. he circles your clit slowly while his lips latch onto one of your folds, sucking on it.
jungkook pulls away with a groan, making you let out a long relieved sigh.
"more."
"hm."
he gets right back to licking your pussy, making long strokes from your hole to your clit. then he spits on your clit first, tongue immediately swiping over your clit repeatedly. it was the perfect stimulation to beg you for more. his eyes were closed, he seems to be in the moment enjoying your pussy as if it was his last meal. while making out with your clit, he decides to have some mercy on your hole.
your husband plunging two of his fingers in your pussy was the cherry on top for you.
"ah— ah, ah! mmh...!" your grip on his hair tighten. back arched, face thrown back, whimpering and moaning so fucking loud.
"shhh, you might wake sannie up, my love."
you nod vigoursly, pushing your husband's face deeper into your pussy and grinding. jungkook was going at an animalistic pace, his face completely smothered all over your pussy. your arousal mixed with his drool was all over his face. his jaw was already beginning to ache, but he didn't care. all he cared about was whether his pretty wife was satisfied or not.
his fingers thrust in and out of your hole sloppily. the scene was so messy. he loved how squishy your pussy felt. and that just made him think more about how you'd feel wrapped around him again.
one last tug and bite on your clit, you let out one last long moan, pulling onto your husband's hair roots as your cum gushed down your cunt.
"shit, oh fuck" your husband whines at the sight of your swollen cunt.
he caresses up and down your cunt with the back of his middle and ring finger. you hiss at the cold feeling of his wedding ring pressing onto your clit as if that whole finger wasn't just inside you just a minutes ago. jungkook realises you liked it. so he smirks, slapping your swollen cunt with the back of his fingers repeatedly, especially making sure his ring is slapped against your clit over and over again.
"kook!—whine haaaaah! haah, hh!"
he slaps your thigh harshly to get you to stop squirming around. once his wish is fullfilled, he forces open your thighs, diving right back into your slit again.
"jungkook!" you were already overstimulated enough.
his eyes were closed once again and nails digging into the flesh of your thighs. face buried deep in your pussy again, he carefully lapped at your sweet juices away with long satisfied hums against your cunt.
"hm, hmm, hm— so good." he reassures.
and a last little kiss was on top of your swollen clit. you let out a small mewl followed by relieved sigh.
"how are you feeling, baby?"
"good, so good. thank you." you pant.
"anything for my heart." he coos, kissing your temple.
aw. he said "my heart". your heart melted.
jungkook pokes your cheek with a smug grin as he lifted his body up and got off of the bed. huh.
"where are you going?"
"to clean you up?" he raises his eyebrow at you, slightly confused.
"what?"
"what do you mean what?"
"well— uh, i thought you were gonna..." you pout.
"hm?"
"kook, please fuck me. i am so horny and i need you so bad." there we go. jungkook's jaw was on the floor for the second time today. i can't lie, he was loving this new side of you. bold and straightforward. you're more vocal about your sexual needs now. you never were before.
he opens his mouth to say something, but shrugs while biting his lips, hurriedly getting on top of you again.
"shiiiiiiit, let me take care of you, mama."
your husband's fingers hook onto the hem of your shirt, pulling it upwards to take it off of you. he gawks at the sight of your tits, squished in your bralette. he hurries to take it off, throwing it away not caring where it may land.
his big hands impatiently grab your tits which were filled and heavy with milk. he looked completely hypnotised. squeezing and massaging your tits, his eyes glued to the milk that's leaking out of your nipples. swiping his thumb over your nipples over and over, jungkook looks over to you, asking for permission.
you nod.
immediately taking in one of your nipples in his mouth, your husband begins to suck relentlessly.
"oh, jungkook...!" your hand was on the back on your husband's head, instinctively massaging his scalp while he dived into your breasts.
he spits on your nipple then swirls his tongue on the saliva, dragging it all over your chest. the artwork being created on your chest was very messy, like always. he playfully bites your soft flesh and pulls it as if he could just bite a chunk off of you.
"tastes surprisingly good."
"surprisingly good?" you crack up a laugh, tilting your head to the side as you ruffled his hair.
"yeah."
he squeezes your breast again, fingers travelling from there down to your pussy again. with a smug face, jungkook parts your legs again, getting in between. he playfully flicts your clit just to earn an annoyed groan from you. apologising with a little kiss on your clit, your husband begins to rub himself through his boxers.
pulling his cock out, he slaps it on your clit a few times, making sure your clit was covered in his precum. then, he glides it down to your hole teasingly slow. spitting on his cock to use it as lubricant, he finally glides it in your drenched cunt.
"ohhh"
"ohhh"
both you and jungkook moan at the same time, loving—obsessively loving the feeling you just got. shit, that felt good. like so so so good. especially after waiting for his cock to slide in you.
"so warm, mama. so perfect for me. you're all mine." he just cups your face, staring at you so lovingly. jungkook holds up your legs by your thighs, pressing your knees to your chest. his cock goes in and out of you steadily. short timed pants from the both of you take over the room, mixing well together and creating a small harmony even.
jungkook couldn't get over how pretty your pussy looked. so pretty and perfect for him. he was aware that you did have a bit of insecurities building up after your pregnancy. but being the sweet loving husband he is, he had a talk with you and reassured you that he still saw you the same, and of course he will for the rest of his life. you were everything to him. so perfect.
he spits a ball of saliva onto your clit, watching it dribble down to mix with his thrusts. he swipes his thumb over the small patch of hair on top of your cunt, groaning.
watching jungkook act completely mesmerised with your cunt only made you wetter and his thrusts grow even rougher.
his thighs snap into your ass like a drum, the sound of skin slapping and moans and whines filling the room. mostly yours. but you knew better to keep it on the low.
"shit, oh, mama!"
jungkook spreads your legs by the knees now, both your knees ending up on the sides of your head. his body leaned down to yours, breath fanning against your lips as he quite literally manhandled the fuck out of you.
the sex wasn't rough, though. it's like he didn't want to make it rough. but it felt so good. but he made sure to increase his pace at odd times just to rile you up.
"mm, haaaaaa!"
he knew you needed to come from clit stimulation though. so to make it easier, your husband moves your left leg to his right hand, his hand holding both your legs now as he fucked into you.
"oh my god, jungkook!"
immediately squeezing your eyes shut at the sudden stimulation on your clit, your breath hitches and toes curl. your husband rubs your clit in the form of an eight, pinching it then and there too.
"hmmmm, you're gonna cum?"
you nod repeatedly, eyes squeezed shut and feeling completely fucked. no pun intended.
"yeah? cum. cum so i can fuck it deeper into you." he rubs your clit faster, increasing his pace. you whine out loud as your sweet cum comes down, making your body shake under your husband's grasp. jungkook groans once your juices coat his dick as he fucks you through your orgasm.
"oh my god, i love you...so much!" you choke out, nails digging into your bedroom. shit, that was just what jungkook needed to release.
"fucking hell, say that again." he throws his head back, bringing both your legs up in the air again and pressed against eachother as he fucked into you.
"i love you!"
"ahh, shit, shit..." he groans, thrusts getting sloppier as he cums down your cunt. he collapses right next to you, hugging your thighs close by your knees. while both you and jungkook regain consciousness while laying on the bed for a few seconds, you also make sure to admire his afterglow and also to tuck a few of his hair strands away.
jungkook gets up fast though, but never misses to kiss your hand. he quickly grabs a tissue and cleans in between your legs.
you yawn, snuggling into the sheets.
"you just wanna go to sleep?"
you nod. but you get up, making a quick trip to the bathroom to pee. by the time you're back, the sheets are changed are new, neatly tucked too. your heart immediately warms as you smile widely, wrapping your arms around your husband and kissing his cheek.
"i love youuu!"
"i love you more, baby!" he pecks your pouty lips. he tells you to dress up while he goes to check on your baby. once he comes back, you're happily tucked in your bed with a big fat smile on your face.
"someone's feeling better, huh?" he scrunches his nose up.
"uhhuh!" you nod also, patting the vacant spot next to you on the bed. jungkook happily lays there, inviting you to lay in his arms.
"i love you, mama. god, i'm so crazy for you. thank you for all you're doing, honey."
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emmyrosee · 6 months
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Geto doesn’t know how to respond to pet names.
It took him a long enough time to become used to the traditional “baby” and “love,” it was just recently when you started busting out these absurd nicknames for whatever thing you could be subjecting him too.
You were cooking once, and you called him “scnhookums” and asked him to pass the peppers. He dropped the tray.
Driving, you told your “stinky man” to take a left. He slammed on his brakes.
You’d been painting his nails and got some on his cuticle, and you asked your “little poop” to pass you some acetone. He just took his hands away.
It’s not that he doesn’t… like them, they’re just not quite what he expects. They’re so extreme, so left field that in a way, he feels as if you’re mocking him, making fun of him.
He doesn’t like that feeling.
But what he hates even more, is when you pause on giving him disgustingly sweet pet names. This, makes him feel like you no longer care, no longer wanting to take the time to come up with the gushy names that keep him in a shy state.
And you haven’t given him one in days.
He hasn’t been able to sleep. Nothing major, nightmares plaguing the dreams he thinks should be pleasant, 
“Shhh,” you soothe. “Stay asleep. I’ve got you.”
He merely nods and lets his head bury back into the pillows, your lips press against his temple before he lets his breathing even out once again.
As if your kiss soothed the monsters that dance, he’s able to sleep a few more hours, waking up disgustingly late and pouting to find your side of the bed cold.
He’s not proud of the pout okay, you’re just really good at scratching the affectionate itch that digs his brain. all he wants is his ‘pooky bear’ to cuddle their little ‘chickadee’ and let him fall back asleep in their arms.
He’s sure those names aren’t far in your arsenal of names.
When he finally does come to search you out, he’s not completely surprised to see you, stretched out on the couch and in a state of relaxation he finds envy in.
“What’re you watching?” He asks, shuffling into the living room. You smile up at him and say nothing, but instead pat your lap as an invitation for him to come and curl against you.
With a nod, he does just that, letting himself lay down on the couch with you, his head nestled in your thighs. Your fingers instantly start their magic on carding his loose hair, and his eyes slack slightly at the tingly feeling.
“Feel better?” You ask, and he hums contently. “I told you more sleep would help. You just never listen to me.”
He says nothing, merely letting his fingers gently trace the lines on your kneecap.
There’s a whirl of silence in the room, and he feels his eyes grow tired from your loving touch, the post warmth of his shower, and the cat that’s curled on his feet, keeping them warm under her rhythmic breathing.
“My handsome man,” you mumble, bending down to plant a kiss at his temple. his eyes widen as he cranes his head up to look at you, curved in surprise and a glimmer of love in his dark pools. “So pretty it hurts… my handsome, pretty man.”
That. That, he could get used to.
He smiles dopily and turns his head to nuzzle into your thigh, trying to hide the heating of his cheeks from you and your potential teasing by keeping his face buried.
But you don’t pick on him. Instead, you click your tongue adoringly and press another kiss to his temple. He feels your nose taking deep breaths of his scent, and your thumb strokes his cheek lovingly.
“Shut up”, Suguru says happily, as an acceptance, letting his sleepy eyes close and allowing your affections to swallow him whole.
Yes, he thinks to himself. It’s the fluttery feeling everyone talks about. The air filling his lungs and his head skipping beats just by the tone of which you call him handsome.
You call him your man.
Maybe pet names don’t always have to be sticky and sweet; but it just makes the most meaningful ones penetrate his heart that much more.
And this pet name, he hopes you decide to keep.
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peachesofteal · 4 months
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Light on - single mom/neighbor fic Simon Riley/female reader This will make the most sense if you read this first
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Simon is chopping vegetables when the power goes down.
It happens in slow motion. The lights waver, warm yellow glow from the living room lamp trembling before it goes out with the television, along with the bright white glaze of the bulbs in the kitchen. They flicker, they flare, dipping his world into darkness.
Months ago, he might have panicked. His anxiety might have peaked, he would have considered checking the locks, ensuring the shades are drawn, validated any weak points of entry. He would have gone for closest stashed handgun.
But things are different now. His mind doesn't jump to a security breach, or an imminent threat. He doesn't consider his consider his "go bag", he doesn't reach for his "work" phone.
Instead, he only thinks of you.
He raises his voice to ensure it reaches you through the flat. "Think we lost power."
"Simon!" Your voice is drenched in fear, the two syllables of his name dripping in it, white flash of panic just on the edge, and the knife goes down easy on the cutting board, carrots and celery nearly finished, electric burners on the stove turning from red to black. Candles. There are candles in here somewhere, aren't there? And flashlights.
"Sweetheart?" The flashlight on his cell clicks on, and he double checks the knife is safely away from the edge of the counter. He calls your name, waiting for a response, for an acknowledgment from Emma's room, where the door is open with his girls inside, one of them fresh out of the bath and hopefully, nearly asleep.
There's no answer. He sweeps the flashlight across the ground, hoping to avoid blinding you or Emmaline, working his way closer to the pitch black doorway. The space in his mind that was calm a moment ago, now begins to spiral. Why aren't you answering him? "Honey? You alright?"
Emma begins to cry. It's not her hungry cry, or her full nappy cry, or her attention cry, but something else, something scared. Distressed.
He's in the room with the flashlight pointed at the ceiling to ensure it bounces off the white paint and around the four walls within a second, heart now hammering in his chest, and when he finds you, spine stiff, eyes peeled wide in terror, something in him breaks.
You're standing in front of the crib, Emmaline cradled tightly in your arms, rapid rise and fall of your chest too fast, too uncontrolled, your usual whimsical, effortless beauty marred by a grim absence, your body frozen into a cage around the baby, empty gaze locked on the floor.
He recognizes it immediately. Knows it too well, knows it in himself better than anything else, a cursory reaction pushing him forward- his touch over yours, his hands supporting Emma's weight. You gasp into him, wild, staggered breaths that make his stomach twist, and he rubs a soothing palm down your spine. "It's okay." He coos. "You're okay, just breathe. I'm here. You're safe, mama, I've got you." Emma hollers, confused and scared, and he pulls her into his chest, holding her there with one arm, another still tethered to you, trying to jog you back to yourself, to your body. To him. "Just breathe, sweetheart. You're alright, take a big breath."
It doesn't work, and he can't do both, so he makes a split second decision, one he hopes doesn't make everything worse. "I know, baby girl. I know. Mama's alright, she's okay." He bounces Emma, relaxing a fraction when her crying settles, and then leans in to cup your cheek, tipping your face up to his. "I'm going to put her in the living room, honey. In the pack and play, okay? I'll be right back. Jus' keep breathing." You give him nothing except for an attempt at a deeper inhale, and he soothes Emma with a close cuddle, finding your phone and pulling it from the dresser to make sure the baby isn't left alone in the dark.
She goes into the little pen in the living room so easily, already nearly asleep again, and he pats her back for a moment, ensuring she's comfortable before running into the room, back to you.
You're blinking now, cheeks wet and shining in the dark, breathing a bit less haggard, and it kills him, haunts him, to see you so terrified, so lost in your own head. "Hey sweetheart. Can you hear me?" He touches you carefully, intentionally, the lack of resistance encouraging to the point he feels confident enough to hold you, cradling your head against his chest, curled over your body like a shield.
"Si-Simon." Your fingers tighten into his side.
"It's me. I'm here, I've got you."
"Em..."
"She's in the next room. She's okay." He smooths a palm over your temple, into your hair. "Let's take a look at you, sweet girl, can we do that? Can you look at me?" You tilt back, eyes and lids sluggish, but with it, conscious, and the anxious knot in his heart relaxes slightly.
"The lights." You stammer, and he nods.
"The electric went out. Did it scare you?" You give him a confused look, like you didn't hear him, or didn't understand. He strokes a thumb across your tear stained cheek and repeats himself. "It's okay, did the dark give you a fright?"
"N-no. Not..." You shake with the denial. "It's... is there a fire?"... what? He cocks his head. A fire?
Oh.
Oh.
His sweet, sweet girl. Not afraid of the dark, only lost and tormented by your grief. Terrified of losing again, trapped in a nightmare that is all too familiar to him.
"No, there's no fire, angel. I'm right here. I'm here, with you." He uncurls your frozen fingers to splay them flat against his chest, over where his heart thumps steadily, covering it with his own. "I'm not going anywhere, I promise."
"You promise." You croak, and he hums, rocking you slowly, gently swaying in the dim light of the phone's flashlight.
"I promise." He swallows the shiver in his voice, burying his nose atop your hair, holding you as tightly as he can. "I swear. Nothing could keep me from you, nothing. Remember?" You rasp out a yeah, feathery soft and feeble, and he kisses the crown of your head, sweet and slow, rubbing your back, your shoulders, kneading the tension from your muscles until the glaze of your panic fades, somber expression tightening across your face. "None of that." He whispers, because he knows what you'll say, he know how you'll try to apologize, try to explain it. "I know, sweetheart. I know."
He gets you folded up on the couch in his arms after locating and lighting most of the candles, setting up a few flashlights in the bathroom and bedroom, collection of mix matched scents littering the coffee table. You're weepy and exhausted, watching Emma sleep in the pack and play, her blissful little face sugar plum sweet as she dreams, and he tucks you into his chest, laying you down, facing her, mouth pressing little kisses to your temple, your cheek, your ear.
"Close your eyes." He encourages when you yawn. "You can sleep. I just want to hold you." The fireplace pops, and you crack an eyelid wide.
"She might wake up." You mumble.
"I know, I'll get her." He soothes, and you wilt, easily reassured by him, something that makes his chest swell with pride. He keeps his fingers moving, stroking across your skin, settling you into twilight, and just as you slip into your own dreams, he whispers a final testament, something he carries with him, every second of every day. "I've got you. I've got you both."
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thehighladywrites · 3 months
Text
ACOTAR MEN X READER, BANNING THEM FROM INTIMACY
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☀︎ — summary: you let them know they’re not allowed to touch you in any way, shape or form. How do they react!
☀︎ — warnings: 18+, nsfw, az being a slut as per usual, cassian being yummy, touchy needy fae males, slight dumbification in lucien’s
☀︎ — amara’s note: lucien was my fav one to write omgggg, also i hope u sluts enjoy😈😈😈😈 also enjoy while i work with tutor az👀👀
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RHYSAND
“You’re putting me on a ban? You can’t be serious.”
“Nuh-uh Rhys, you flirted with that girl so have fun by yourself for the unforseeable future.”
Rhysand didn’t actually flirt with anyone, he was being his usual self and the way the girl was leaning towards him made you angry so you just blamed him instead
He gets through the first few days calmly although he is mildy irritated. Especially when Cassian and Azriel tease him about it.
“So no sexy time for you Rhysie, that must suck,” Cassian says as he ties his hair back.
“Well, not really much sucking these days, right?” Azriel snickers, getting ready for the inevitable fight
Rhysand takes out his frustration on them for their smart little comments.
Rhysand has quite a high libido so that man usually fucks you good atleast once a day even when you’re both busy.
“Darling, please forgive me. I will never do it again. Tell me what I can do to earn your forgiveness.”
He begs and begs because he’s going a bit crazy
In the end, it takes him only three days for you to forgive him and lift the ban. The man is charming and seduces you into dropping the ban
The second you drop the ban, he grabs your waist, throws you over his shoulder and winnows to the cabin where he fucks you for a week straight.
“That oughta put that nasty idea out of your head forever” he says, patting your head while smiling at your ruined self. Mascara running, laboured breathing, and a pounding heart is your only answer
Yeah this man wrecks you and you never pull this stunt again…
YUMMM MHE IS SO DELICIOUS 👹👹👹👹
ERIS
“You may not touch me or have sex with me in any way until I say you can.”
He narrows his eyes as he slightly smiles when you announce a ban on all intimate activities for the unforseeable future.
“Is that so?”
You cross your arm on your chest, lifting your chin in defiance.
“Yes, that’s right. Since you want to entertain Nesta Archeron, you may not be in my vicinity.”
You are being waaaaaay too dramatic. He didn’t even spare her a single glance until you pointed to her. Nothing at all happened, I mean the male didn’t even know she was at the ball until you told him.
Nesta walked up and was a bit too close to him and even though Eris moved to your side, giving her an unamused look, you were still irritated
And since you couldn’t take it out on her, you take it out on Eris.
But Eris knows what you’re doing, he knows how extremely dramatic you are being, so he just lets you cool off, let’s you huff and puff around the house
You are a mess. An absolute mess
You find yourself longing for Eris's touch, even just a simple headpat from him would send you into cardiac arrest.
The fact that you lasted an entire week is insane bc you’re both touching each other in some way all the time
When you’re lounging; his head rests on your chest, and you lovingly massage his scalp, running your fingers through his hair. Alternatively, he pulls you closer to his body under a warm blanket, nestled in his neck, while he warms his hands for you, acting as your personal heater.
When you’re in public; he always has a hand on your lower back, waist or you walk hand in hand. You also wrap your hands around his biceps, caressing the arm when you feel tired
When you’re in a meeting; your hands naturally seek each other under the table. Whenever one of you gets heated or irritated, the other soothes them by rubbing their thumb on the back of their hand, offering quiet support.
After a week of torture you finally breakdown in his office, storming in and placing your palms on his wooden desk. He looks up at your curiously, an eyebrow raised.
“Okay, I can’t do this anymore, please touch me, I don’t know what I was thinking.”
Eris is just as desperate as you are but he wants to drag this out just a tiny bit more before giving in
“Interesting. You initiated this ban, yet you’re the one who can’t follow through? You were fine without me for a whole week, I think you’ll manage another one.”
Your jaw drops in disbelief. Another week? No, you’d rather die.
“I think not. I will beg if I have to. Touch me, please. I will probably die if I go another week without you.”
He leans back in his chair, puts his arms behind his head as his arms bulge. One of your biggest weaknesses
“Normally, I’d make you beg but I missed you aswell. Come here.”
You damn near cry in relief when you sit in his lap and nestle in his arms. His warm hands rub your back and thighs, making you impossibly more relaxed
“This was one of the dumbest things I have ever done. Never again.” You whine against his neck, kissing it over and over again.
“I’ll hold you to that,” he says, emotional as he press a kiss to your head
AZRIEL
“Okay.”
That is all he says when you tell him your banning him from touching you. Honestly, you thought he’d have a bigger reaction so you start getting second thoughts.
But you thug it out bc you still want to prove a point even though he looks super unbothered
In reality, Azriel is panicking on the inside
Although he knows he can physically withstand sex, it’s the love and intimacy he misses the most
So he does the one thing he knows you won’t resist
He sluts around the house
Okay, he walks around shirtless or with super tight black shirts thst highlight years and years of working out
Azriel knows you’re weak for his muscles and body so flaunting it around is step one of his plan.
Step two of his plan draws him extremely close to you, mere inches away. He leans in as you speak, exploiting yet another weakness.
He wears delicious colognes that make your eyes flutter. He wears chains around his neck and leans over you.
Azriel’s final and ultimate slut move is waking up in the morning, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine as he speaks. It's all it takes for you to cave in to his charms.
You find yourself the one begging for his touch, unable to resist the longing for his embrace. You babble about never wanting to go so long without feeling his presence again.
CASSIAN
Cassian’s love language is most definitely touch so when you tell him that he is banned from here on out, he freezes.
Like it doesn’t make any sense, he actually can’t grasp the concept.
“What does that even mean? What do you mean I can’t touch you?”
Tha man is flabbergasted
He will follow you around, apologizing for his behavior over and over. You’ve already forgiven him since it was a minor thing but he doesn’t know that
Cassian starts carrying a pillow with him, imagining it is you. He craves touch, and if it's from a damn pillow, he'll gladly take it
He pouts as you try to surpress a smile at his expression. He’ll give you puppy eyes in hopes of you dropping the annoying ban
Eventually, Cassian levels up and becomes extra touchy with the inner circle instead, seeking any physical touch
A confused Azriel gets extra pats on the shoulder, but Cassian's hand lingers, staying put longer than usual, leaving Azriel puzzled by the sudden change in his behavior.
An amused Rhysand receives more hugs, but Cassian's hugs linger, holding him close as if imagining you there for a moment.
Obviously, nothing compares to you, and the whole situation only makes Cassian more irritated.
No sex is just unbearable. Jerking off isn’t fun at all and he can count on one hand how many times he had to use his hands since you got together
After only one and a half day you start to miss his touches and get jealous that your friends is getting his warm touches instead.
You’re also very horny and since you and cassian have a VERY active sex life, it makes a lotta sense. This male usually fucks you 1-2 times everyday, and I mean EVERY day
Seriously not a day goes by without some action, whether it be fingering, bjs, handjobs, nipple play, him eating you out, 69 just anything really
When you finally, after 1,5 excruciating days let him touch you, he smiles and thank the Mother then drags you to your bedroom
Y’all don’t come out for a solid 2-3 business days
Ever since the ban, he is stuck to you like glue fr
LUCIEN
Lucien is very calm for someone who isn’t allowed to touch his mate
“You’re banning me from touching you? That’s really cute,” Lucien remarks casually, a hint of amusement in his tone as he takes a sip of his peppermint tea.
You furrow your brows, pouting. “I'm not joking, Lucien. If you touch me, I'll scream,” you assert firmly, crossing your arms over your chest. With lifted chin and proud gaze, you stand your ground, making your new and temporary boundaries clear.
Lucien chuckles softly. “Yeah? You’ll scream? Love, you scream real nice for me when I touch you anyway, so what's really new?” he teases, getting closer to you.
“I mean, do you really want me to not touch you?” Lucien asks, his voice low as he inches closer and closer until your faces are mere inches apart.
He gets so close, his warmth leaving you breathless. His soft, plump lips barely brush against yours, the touch so light it's almost not there.
“Tell me, my sweet, perfect girl,” he murmurs, his breath mingling with yours, “who put this idea in your head?”
You are barely functioning, your words stuck in your throat as you struggle to come up with a response.
“I know you're too out of it to properly respond to me right now, and it's okay,” Lucien says gently, his tone teasing. “I guess using your brain is a tough task, hm?”
You nodded absentmindedly, distracted by his charming smile
“M'sorry, Lucien,” you mumble, your words breathless and slightly slurred. “It was just a joke. I really want you to touch me,” you admit, your voice trailing off as you become increasingly dumbfounded in his intoxicated presence.
He tsked with mock sympathy. “It's okay, sweetheart,” he said gently, gripping your chin. “Let’s not say things we don’t mean the next time, okay?”
“Okay, I won’t.” you say blushing at the proximity before giving him a sweet sweet kiss on the lips. Lucien pulls you in closer and y’all fuck right there on the kitchen table but damn it was good
Yeah, banning Lucien from intimacy will never work
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🏷️: @thelov3lybookworm @redbleedingrose @acourtofladydeath @acourtofwhatthefuck @clairebear08 @rowaelinsdaughter @artists-ally @berryzxx @aroseinvelaris @cupidojenphrodite @jeannineee @daycourtofficial
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vivwritesfics · 16 days
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hello can i pls req ln4 x reader where she just has constant headaches because she doesnt sleep like js some comfort and fluff pls!
Self indulgent bc I do this to myself wayyyy too often
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Really, Lando should have been used to it. He'd seen the cans of monster (her preferred energy drink since they'd started sponsoring her boyfriends team), he should have known that she was going to stay up doing... whatever.
(In reality it was course work that she had put off to go to Grand Prix. And now it was the end of the year and she was, essentially, fucked)
But it wasn't just the two/three hours of a sleep a night. No, the lack of water had to have something to do with it as well.
Lando wasn't the most observant when it came to things like this. He was, admittedly, in his own little bubble most of the time, unaware of anything happening outside of it.
But, when you come to care for someone, and I mean really care, they often penetrate that bubble.
That was how Lando noticed that she was holding her head, a low, uncomfortable moan escaping her lips as she looked at her laptop screen.
"What is it, Baby?" He asked as he wrapped his arms around her.
She buried her face against his shoulder, blocking out all light. "Nothing," she said against his shirt. "I just need a minute."
So, Lando gave her that minute. He held her, rubbed her back as she tried to sooth her aching head. As he looked around her bedroom, he couldn't help but notice a lack of water. Just cans of monster everywhere. Abd how goddamn tired she looked.
Shit, as her boyfriend he was legally obligated to do something about it, right? To take care of her?
When she next got up to use the bathroom, Lando pulled her laptop into his lap. She saved her work, closed the lid, and put it on the floor.
When she walked back in her blankets had been pulled back to reveal the soft bed beneath. "Sleep," Lando said, but it came put as more of a demand than anything else.
"Lan, where's my laptop?"
But he pressed his finger to his lips and patted the space beside him. "I hate you," she muttered as she crawled into the bed.
"I hate you too," he said, smile fond as he pulled her blanket over her. He waited until her breathing had evened out before he got up to grab her some water.
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chuuyrr · 4 months
Text
⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐒 .ᐟ
feat. dazai, chuuya, fyodor
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ꨄ˙ SYNOPSIS: bsd men as girl dads to their daughters
ꨄ˙ CW(s): f! mom! reader, established relationship (married to your lover ofc), fluff, short scenarios, not proofread
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DAZAI was humming the quiet melody of his 'certain' song as he cradles his little one. the baby in his arms was sniffling, crying softly and practically looking at him with tearful brown eyes that resembles his. he gently hushes and cradles baby sonoko in his arms, his soothing hums a lullaby in the quiet room.
sonoko was a captivating blend of both you and dazai. with her dark hair that mirrored dazai's locks and the bright twinkle in her [color] eyes reminiscent of your own, she was practically a living canvas of your shared features.
dazai gently rocks baby sonoko in his arms, whispering soothing words to calm her cries. the soft glow of the nightlight illuminated the room, creating a serene atmosphere. he cradles her close, the warmth of his embrace a comforting haven.
"hush, my little one," he murmurs, his voice a gentle melody. "there, there, sonoko. daddy is here." dazai presses a tender kiss to her forehead, his heart swelling with paternal affection, "no need for tears, little darling."
he softly sang a lullaby, the words weaving through the air like a protective cocoon. as the room embraced a peaceful stillness, sonoko's cries transformed into quiet sniffles.
dazai continued to sway gently, cherishing the precious moment of connection with his baby girl. he places her head against his chest, manipulating his heart beat into a calming rate to ground her with its sound.
you lay in bed, exhausted, but you find yourself smiling in the calmness of the night as you see your husband and daughter share a quiet bond, the world outside fading away. dazai's love for sonoko radiated in every soothing touch, a promise to always be there, hushing away any fears or tears that may come.
"you're doing that thing with your heart again, aren't you?" you whisper softly to dazai, quietly giggling.
dazai glances at you, still cradling the fruit of your love to his chest, he gently strides to your side and presses a lingering kiss on your forehead, "yeah, i am."
"i still don't get how you do that though, but it works, doesn't it?" you say softly as you see how your baby girl is all calm now.
you extend your arms to reach for sonoko but dazai gently refuses to do so, and he shakes his head as he insists, "shh, let me look after her. you go get some rest, darling."
"are you sure, osamu? sonoko can get a bit fussy," you ask softly as dazai uses his free hand that wasn't carrying sonoko to gently push you to lie back down in bed and pull the blanket over your chest.
"i'm certain. please, my love. you're exhausted from feeding her and looking after. it's daddy's turn to take over, okay?" dazai chuckles softly as sonoko began to coo and pat her tiny hands against her daddy, "we're ok."
"okay," you giggle quietly as you look at your husband and daughter, "try not to give your daddy a bad time, okay sonoko?"
sonoko merely coo and giggle at the sound of your voice before they intensified in volunme when dazai started to tickle her sides and pepper her cute round face in kisses, the rain of affection from her father making her happy.
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CHUUYA sighs, holding baby saika in his arms as her cries echoed through the room. he paced around, trying to replicate the comfort saika found in her mother's presence—your presence.
although your child resembled very much like you, she got her traits and personality mostly from chuuya. she even throws quite the fuss when she was upset, and chuuya only realizes it now that you're away for a while.
"shh, saika, it's okay. come on, now." he whispers softly, his voice a mixture of reassurance and longing.
despite his best efforts to spoil her with affection, saika's cries persisted and he feels a pang of helplessness, "mommy will be back soon, little one. until then, it's just you and me, okay?" chuuya continued to sway, his touch tender and caring.
but saika's cries merely intensified, and chuuya's frustration grew. he couldn't replace the warmth and comfort that only her mother seemed to provide.
chuuya's heart sank as he looked down at his precious little one, her tear-filled eyes gazing up at him with a mix of sadness and yearning. he felt a wave of helplessness wash over him, an ache in his chest as he desperately wished he could ease her distress.
"come on, saika," chuuya whispers softly, his voice a blend of sorrow and affection. he cradles her even closer, tracing gentle circles on her back. "what's making you so upset, huh? don't you want toys? food? sweetheart, please."
saika's tiny lips quivered, and her cries persisted. chuuya's usual fiery determination waned in the face of his daughter's tears. money and gifts meant nothing in this moment. though he had her spoiled with everything and anything, she didn't seem to want any of those things as she would only squirm, kick and throw those things away in a tantrum.
in a moment of realization, chuuya gently sets aside the lavish toys and the carefully prepared food. he holds saika to his face and he looks into her teary eyes and finally, he understood the true source of her distress.
"it's not about the toys or the treats, is it, saika?" he muses softly, a smile forming on his face. cradling her up in his arms, he held her close, focusing on the simple act of giving her his undivided attention.
as he spoke soothingly to her, chuuya sensed the shift in saika's mood. her cries slowly gave way to sniffles, and she looked up at him with wide, trusting eyes. realizing that what she craved was the connection with her daddy, chuuya embraced the simplicity of the moment.
"dada's right here, baby," he whispers to saika, pressing a tender kiss on her cheek, "i got you."
in that instant, the room was filled not with the extravagant gifts he could provide, but with the warmth of a father's love that proved to be the most comforting of all.
he bounced her tenderly as he swayed around the room, the rhythm calming her sniffles. chuuya presses another soft kiss on her forehead, and saika's tiny hands clung to his shirt, finding solace in the familiar embrace.
as you entered the room later on, a tired yet content smile adorned chuuya's face. his hair was tied in a low ponytail with stickers and traces of food decorated his face. in his arms, little saika peacefully slept, nestled against his chest, her [color] hair braided with small butterfly clips.
chuuya looked up, and his eyes softened at the sight of you, "hey there, love," he greets you quietly, careful not to wake saika, "we had a little adventure, but someone decided it was time for a nap."
you couldn't help but giggle fondly at the adorable scene before you. the stickers and food smudges on your husband seemed like badges of a day well spent. saika, oblivious to your arrival, continued to sleep soundly in her father's arms.
quietly, chuuya rose from his spot, carefully transferring saika to her crib. as he joined you, he sighs happily and captures your lips in a tender kiss, "looks like our little one just wanted some dada time today." the exhaustion in his eyes was overshadowed by the joy of the shared moments.
"seems like it," you say softly as you wrap your arms around his neck as you kiss once again, "but hey, you did good. thanks for looking after saika."
"don't mention it, we're in this together. i can't have my darling wife do everything. you deserved a well-rested break today," chuuya whispers against your lips as nuzzles his nose against yours lovingly.
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FYODOR cradled his precious lyubov on his lap, her wide eyes filled with curiosity. with a tender smile, he began to read from a novel, his deep yet gentle voice resonating through the quiet space.
"once upon a time, in the turbulent depths of the human soul, there lived a complex character named raskolnikov. he grappled with existential questions, much like the profound mysteries we face in our own lives," fyodor narrates, his gaze shifting between the words on the page and the wide-eyed innocence in lyubov's eyes.
as he continued reading, the intricate plot and philosophical undertones of the novel intertwined with the gentle rhythm of lyubov's breathing. fyodor couldn't help but adapt the narrative, transforming it into a bedtime story that echoed the complexities of morality and human nature.
lyubov, oblivious to the weighty themes, giggled in delight at her father's animated expressions. fyodor, in turn, savored the precious moments, cherishing the bond he was cultivating with his daughter.
as lyubov listened to her father's storytelling, a contagious giggle bubbled up from within her. with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, she pointed at the novel in fyodor's hands.
giggling at the sight of her father's earnest storytelling, little lyubov couldn't contain her innocence as she pointed at the pages in amusement.
lyubov, with her jet-black hair cascading in waves down her shoulders, bore a striking resemblance to her father, fyodor. the deep purple hue of her eyes mirrored his own, reflecting a shared intensity that seemed to peer into the depths of the human soul.
yet, amidst these echoes of her father's traits, her features held a delicate familiarity, capturing the essence of her other parent—you. the gentle curve of her nose and the subtle arch of her eyebrows were reminiscent of your own distinct features too.
in a moment of quiet amusement, you turned to fyodor, your husband, a playful glint in your eyes, "isn't she a tad too young for stories like that, darling?" you ask, your laughter blending with the warmth of the dimly lit room as you enter your baby's room.
fyodor, with a gentle smile, glanced at lyubov, who had now nestled herself comfortably against his chest, before looking at you, "perhaps, my love," he replies, his voice carrying a touch of self-awareness, "but the beauty of storytelling is that it grows with the listener. however, if you insist, then i suppose i'll find tales more suited to her age, tales that will weave the magic of childhood without delving too deep into the complexities of the human psyche."
as lyubov cooed and giggled in response to your shared laughter, fyodor couldn't help but join in the merriment.
with a twinkle in his eye, he gently teases, "my, my. look at this, darling. it seems our little one has a taste for the profound, even if the words are a bit too deep for her tender age. perhaps we have a budding philosopher in our midst."
"perhaps, fedya," you say with a playful glint in your eyes, your lips curving into a smile.
you and fyodor share a tender kiss, the laughter lingering in the air as a sweet reminder that, in the midst of literature's complexities and parenting's challenges, there's always room for joy and lighthearted moments in the embrace of family love as lyubov was still nestled in fyodor's embrace, she continued to babble and gurgle, her infectious laughter filling the room.
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ꨄ˙ A.N.: sonoko's name came from one of the dazai osamu's actual children. saika translates to fortune with its kanji meaning happiness and the moon. it was inspired by the poems of upon the tainted sorrow and the moon of the actual nakahara chuuya, but i purposely alluded the name to happiness instead. lyubov means love, and it is also the name of one of the actual children of fyodor dostoevsky. ₊˚⊹ ᰔ
ꨄ˙ TAGGING.: @chuunai @aureatchi (っ'ヮ'c) ₊˚⊹♡ !
this is a queued post by the way . . .
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lovelyjj · 9 months
Text
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Hopelessly Devoted
jj maybank x reader
wc: 2.7k
(not my gif)
a/n: the first time I posted this it didn’t show up in the tags so i’m posting it again!
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JJ has never experienced this before. His whole life he has never felt this way before. The only word that he could describe it is lovesick.
JJ was absolutely totally undeniably completely hopelessly in love with you. and you had no idea. It wasn't like it wasn't obvious. The way he looked at you with hearts in his eyes.
Other people noticed it too the way JJ looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky. John B, Pope and Kie could tell their friend was in love.
"Does she ever talk about me?" JJ asked Kiara as they were out on the boat.
You were working and missed out on the boat day but you didn't mind you were gonna catch up with them later.
"I mean she doesn't not talk about you." Kiara replied.
"Come on Kie, I know you guys have your girls night. She has to say something" JJ begged.
"I think she loves you as a friend" Kie offered.
"You don't ask her about me?" JJ frowned.
"Not really slipped my mind."
"Well next time you see her will you." JJ asked.
"oh no i'm not getting in the middle of it." Kiara reasoned.
"You already are in the middle of it."
Kiara turned away from JJ shaking her head and looking out at the ocean. John B was driving the boat back to the château after a day of swimming and fishing.
Later that day when it started to turn into the evening you came over bringing snacks with you for a movie night.
You knocked on the door and then entered the château.
"Hey I brought snacks," you shouted hoping they could hear you.
"thank you y/n" John B acknowledged.
You walked into the living room ready for a chill night with your friends.
JJ patted the seat next to him on the couch gesturing for you to come sit next to him.
"Sit with me" JJ spoke.
You climbed over Pope and Kiara who were on the floor cozied with blankets and a air mattress.
John B and Sarah were on the couch too. The space JJ pointed to was small and so you sat down a little squished.
The movie started and everyone settled down. However, you seemed to inch closer to JJ progressively throughout the movie.
It got to the point where half your body was on top of him. Then JJ took it upon himself to haul you onto his lap.
"There. That's better huh," JJ whispered in your ear.
You simply nodded focusing your attention on the TV.
Near the end of the movie you started to grow restless. You shifted around and ended up straddling JJ's lap. Now you were facing him.
"Hi there princess."
"Hi"
"Shhh" Sarah hissed.
You then proceeded to lay your head on his shoulder, nose nudging at his neck. Eventually you fell asleep.
There wasn't that much left of the movie. JJ was shocked you felt comfortable enough to fall asleep on him. He felt like he was in heaven. He couldn't believe it, your soft breaths hitting his neck. Occasionally, JJ would rub your back, soothing his hand up and down. When the movie was over and the snacks have been eaten JJ got up.
"Alright guys Im gonna hit the hay, and get this one to bed."
Your legs unconsciously wrapped around JJ's waist. JJ carried you by the back of your thighs.
When JJ made it to his room he laid you down on his bed. He brought the covers up to your neck and kissed your forehead.
"Good night angel."
JJ went to the hall closet for some blankets. Then he made himself comfortable on the floor.
—————
You woke up from one of the best sleeps you've ever had. Maybe it was JJ's scent in the sheets or being in his bed but you were unbelievably comfortable.
You started to sit up when you did you noticed a mop of blonde hair peaking out from a blanket on the floor.
He slept on the floor? You were shocked. What a gentleman. You would have been fine sharing with him though.
"JJ," you called to him.
"JJ."
When you got no response you threw a pillow at him.
JJ propped himself up on one arm and threw you a nasty glare.
"Seriously" JJ asked.
You scrunched up your nose, "You weren't waking up."
"So you through a pillow at me?"
"Yes." you laughed.
And JJ who loved the sound of your laughter grinned.
"Why'd you sleep on the floor?" You asked curiously.
"I wanted you to have the bed," JJ spoke sincerely.
"You could have shared with me," you reasoned.
JJ hitched his throat. The thought of you sharing a bed with him had his heart hammering in his chest. He wondered if you would have cuddled with him. No that he couldn't handle. He was practically blushing.
"No baby girl you just seemed so tired I didn't want to disturb you." JJ responded. He didn't even notice the pet name. It just flowed out of his mouth so naturally he didn't even notice how flustered it made you.
You buried your face in your hands hiding your flushed cheeks and smile.
When you uncovered your face and looked at him JJ was already looking at you. To him, you looked breathtaking. Your hair was messy and your lips looked plump. Your face looked ethereal. JJ could feel his blood rushing through his body. Then he got himself thinking, if he could wake up to this beautiful sight, to her, every morning he would die a happy man.
————————
The next day you all went over to Sarah's house to go swimming.
The boys came to pick you up at your house since yours was closest to Sarah's. You were the last stop.
You were wearing a purple bikini and some jean shorts over it. When you entered the twinkie JJ took notice to your lack of clothes and exposed skin. You looked hot and JJ was practically drooling.
Your legs were pressed together in the back of the twinkie as John B drove. Pope was in the front seat leaving Kie, JJ, and you in the back.
JJ reached over and put a hand on your thigh. This causing you to blush furiously. This action unnoticed by kie.
"Hi pretty girl," JJ whispered.
"Hi," you whispered back.
The rest of the drive over to Sarah's house was quick and you all casually conversed.
"Alright ladies, here we are," John B shared.
JJ was first to hop out of the van. The rest of you quickly followed.
After entering Tanny hill you all headed to the pool area. Sarah was happy to host everyone over.
The pool was huge and you forgot how well off kooks are.
"Here are some towels," Sarah commented.
"Thank you."
The pogues were lounging around the pool no one was going on just yet.
You stripped down into your bikini. Not even 10 seconds after you did so JJ was picking you up bridal style.
"JJ don't you dare."
JJ swung you over the edge of the pool and acted like he was going to drop you by releasing you from his grip over the ledge. Each time he would fake drop you you would cling onto him a little tighter. He would fake drop you three times and on the fourth he actually threw you in.
When you surfaced you gave JJ the stink eye.
"Your welcome," JJ offered.
John B got up and made his way to sneak up behind JJ. It only took one shove for JJ to end up in the water.
"Hey!" JJ said as he surfaced wiping his face.
"Thank you John B," you voiced.
"Anytime."
In no time the rest of the pogues joined you and JJ in the water. Pretty soon everyone was splashing each other.
You all had a good time swimming and splashing.
About an hour or two later you sat in a lounge chair working on your tan.
Kiara came and sat by you.
"So tell me what's going on between you and JJ," she spoke resting her chin in her hand and her elbows on her knees.
"What do you mean? There is nothing going on between us," you stated shocked.
"Just admit you like him already would you," Kiara put out.
"I don't know what your talking about," you smiled smugly.
Your smile did not go unnoticed by Kiara who just shook her head and looked the other way.
JJ walked over to you and sat at the end of your lounge chair.
"What are you guys talking about?" JJ says nonchalantly.
"Nothing," you and Kiara say at the same time.
"Right we'll I was wondering if y/n wanted to come surfing with me tomorrow morning?" JJ placed his hand on your knee and uses his thumb to stroke the area.
His actions don't go unnoticed by you but you let him touch you as you found it sweet and endearing.
"Yeah i'd love to go surfing with you J," you added.
"Great. It's a date."
———————
You woke up on the pull out couch in John Bs den. It was all a haze waking up to hushed voices in the living room. The sun peaking through the window.
"Hey sleepy head." JJ's voice rang through your ears. You let out a groan and covered your head with a pillow.
JJ grabbed the pillow and threw it on the other side of the bed. "Ready to go surfing?"
JJ's eyes were bright and he had a faint smile on his lips. Truth be told he was excited to spend some alone time with you. He was deeply in love with you and you were absolutely clueless.
"Yeah give me a minute."
——————
You and JJ sat on the sand after crushing the waves. JJ had his arm around you.
"Thank you for coming out with me." JJ spoke softly, digging his hands into the sand at his place next to you.
"Yeah no problem, the waves were great," you smiled.
JJ was at war with himself. He desperately wanted to tell you how he feels about you. How he loves you so much. He wanted to shout it from the roof tops. He just didn't know how you felt and it was torture. He didn't think you liked him back but then again he didn't know for sure. Should he risk everything including you friendship and tell you.
JJ was conflicted. Right now was the perfect opportunity. You were alone overlooking the beach. And here you are sat next to him without a clue that his heart is beating faster with you next to him. JJ finally decided to do the next best thing: ask you out.
"Hey, So I was wondering if you wanted to go out to dinner with me?"
"With the other pogues?" you questioned.
"No it would be just us." JJ answered.
"Like a date?"
JJ panicked. "No not a date. Just two friends hanging out."
"Oh okay. Yeah I'd love to."
__________
You and JJ had your dinner and it was lovely. You guys talked and laughed like there was no tomorrow. Your legs touched under the table and you felt like you were floating.
It was three days after the dinner when you were walking to the château.
It was a 5 minute walk but you decided to stop at the store to get some beer, making your walk a little longer.
You were almost to the store when a truck pulled up right next to you. To your horror it was Rafe and Topper.
"Hey there girlie," Rafe commented stepping out of the truck.
"Rafe." You gave him a mean look.
As he got closer to you, you could see his face more clearly. He had a black eye and a busted lip.
"What happened to you?" You asked, not that you really cared.
"Your little boyfriend is what happened. But you should see him." He whistled, "Not pretty."
"I swear if you hurt him-"
"What? What can you possibly do to me." Rafe spoke.
Without thinking you threw a punch at Rafe hitting him in the nose.
"You little shit!" Rafe snarled.
"Topper grab her!" Rafe shouted.
Topper took your hands and held them behind your back holding you in place.
"That pogue really got me. Now it's time for some payback."
Topper held you down while Rafe hit you. You were able to kick him in the balls but he was beating you pretty badly.
All of a sudden the three of you herd a siren. Topper let you go immediately and tried to act natural.
Sheriff Peterkin stepped out of the car.
"What's going on here?" she questioned.
"Nothing sheriff." Rafe yelled.
"Why don't you run along and get out of here," sheriff peterkin announced.
Rafe and Topper were quick to move. They quickly drove off not wanting to get in trouble.
"You okay miss."
"I'm fine," you whispered.
Then you fell to the ground and everything went dark.
—————
When you first woke up you were confused as to where you were. Slowly becoming conscious, you realized you were at the police station.
"Oh good your awake. I'd like to see you in here please." Sheriff peterkin ordered.
You slowly got up and made your way to her office.
"Have a seat."
You sat down quickly realizing that everything in your body ached.
"Now who did this to you?"
"I think you know," you replied weakly.
"damn it!" she cursed.
"Would you like to press charges?"
"No. I just want to go home," you spoke truthfully.
"I highly advise-"
You cut her off, "I just want to leave please."
"Ok." She motioned for you to exit the room. You breathed a breath of relief.
On your way out you looked at the time. It was almost 3pm. You were supposed to be a John Bs an hour ago.
You slowly but surely made your way over to the château.
When you arrived the pogues were all out in the porch. You were anxious to face JJ because you don't know how he's going to react.
You walked up to the lawn and the pogues could see a shadowy figure. When you stepped into the light on the porch all the pogues gasped.
Your face was badly bruised.
JJ stood up. "What the fuck!"
"JJ-"
"No stop. Who did this to you?"
"Rafe."
JJ started walking. "I'll kill him."
"No JJ. Please don't," you pleaded.
JJ was fuming. How dare someone hurt his girl. JJ felt a little bit guilty because he fought Rafe a couple days ago.
"It's all my fault I shouldn't of provoked him. I'm so sorry."
"You didn't know he would come after me. it's ok."
"It's not ok," JJ expressed.
JJ took your hand and led you to the bathroom. He had you hop up on the sink. He began cleaning your wounds.
"I can't believe he laid his hands on you." JJ spoke.
"I'm fine JJ."
"Look at you. No your not."
JJ dabbed at your eye and you winced.
"Sorry," JJ apologized.
When JJ was just about finished assessing your injuries he began to speak. "I can't do this. This is breaking my heart."
"JJ wha-"
"No let me finish."
"I can't stand seeing you hurt like this. My chest physically hurts and I feel like i'm going crazy because Im crazy about you. I can't pretend like i'm not in love with you when I am."
JJ's chest was rising up and down. He was breaking down over his love for you. He was ripped to shreds at the sight of you hurt. It tore him apart.
"JJ I have always loved you," you confessed.
As if he was holding his breath he let out all the air in his lungs. He gave you a bright smile.
JJ wasted no time as he leaned forward in his spot between his legs. He cradled your face in his hands and placed his lips on yours. The kiss was quick and frantic.
You were surprised at the passionate nature of the kiss. Your stomach was tingly. Your mouths explored each other's. When the need for air became too strong you pulled away.
"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that." JJ expressed.
2K notes · View notes
shibaraki · 7 months
Text
OPEN ARMS, OPEN EYES ┊ GOJO SATORU
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tags: GN reader, no curse au, meet-cute, gojo has a visual impairment (modern take on his six eyes), the divine dogs are service animals (seeing-eye dogs), original child character, reader is babysitting, fluff + flirting, (takes place in my foster dad au)
wc: 3k
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Overhead, the bell rings a soft welcome. You quickly shuffle Kota out of the drizzle and into the warm embrace of the cafe. A full staccato can be heard over the soothing music as the wind begins to whip the rainfall against the windows. You sigh, having escaped the worst of it.
Kota squirms, his pink face scrunched into a glare as you bend to undo the buttons tucked beneath his chin and let down his raincoat hood. Free from the nylon confines he shakes out his hair and swipes at the strands stuck to his damp forehead with a whine.
“I know little man,” you murmur placatingly, reaching for the napkins on the nearby condiment bar. You pat his skin dry from his cheeks to his neck, and then under his cuffs around his wrists. His sniffling has allayed, to your relief. “Is that better?”
When he doesn’t answer you look up and find him entranced by something across the threshold. You follow his line of sight and feel the breath stolen from your lungs.
The stranger is imposing and beautiful in a way that is hard to look at; yet it’s the intense air of confidence and ease about him that makes it impossible for you to look away. Standing tall at the counter he’s all slender angles and fluid movements in his fitted white dress-shirt, rocking on his heels as he waits.
The shelves fixed to the wall behind the counters are littered with decorative trinkets doused in warm-gold light that crowns his white hair like a halo. Everyone’s focus has gravitated toward him, so much so that they don’t appear to notice the large black dog at his feet.
Kota, however, paid the man no attention. Instead his chubby fingers curled around your shirtsleeve to tug insistently at your arm, “Puppy!”
There’s a blue padded harness strapped to the dog’s torso, ‘assistance’ printed in bold reflective letters across the chest and along the adjustable handle. Their body language shows that they’re comfortable but alert, ears standing tall and twitching in Kota’s direction. Kota, who has managed to free himself from your grip.
And is tottering towards the service dog.
You rise to stand and amble after him, frantically whispering his name. “Kota—no. You can’t pet the dog,” your arm scoops around his belly to keep him from tripping as you grab the back of his coat and gather him to your front. The boy stomps his foot and whines, forcing his body pliant in protest and becoming deadweight.
Nervous about causing a disturbance you survey the surroundings. Nobody stirs. A woman and her two young children are seated nearby, and she offers you a sympathetic smile. You grimace, steadying Kota on his feet.
“But I wan’a pet the puppy,” Kota warbles, making grabbing motions toward the dog.
“You can’t sweetheart. Look,” you run a soothing hand down his back. Bringing him close you point at the blue harness. “See what they’re wearing? Can you read that word?”
Kota’s brow knits in concentration. “S’big word,” he says. You smile at his seriousness and suppress the urge to squeeze him.
“That word says ‘assistance’,” and he repeats it with imprecise intonation, thrice before he’s satisfied. “That’s right,” you praise him, sneaking a kiss to his temple. A frisson of happiness has him burying into the crook of your neck. “Do you know what it means when an animal is wearing a coat like that?”
Kota shakes his head.
“It means,” you cast a quick glance to the owner and almost swallow your tongue. His face is angled in your direction, as if listening in on your conversation, though his eyes are well hidden behind a dark pair of glasses. “It means that dog is working. They have a very important job to do, so we can’t interrupt them. It would be bad if they got distracted, right?”
Kota thinks long and hard about this. A litany of emotions wash over his expression. It ranges from confusion, to petulance and sadness, then finally, acceptance. “Yeah. Okay,” he nods, staring longingly at the fluffy tail sweeping back and forth across the tiles.
“Good. Now you’ve learned something new today. You can tell your parents all about it once I get you home,” you stand straight and brush down the front of your jeans. “How about we get some cream puffs to celebrate once it’s dry out, hm?”
“Yeah!”
The disruption thankfully hadn’t bothered the dog. You watch as the man drops his hand to his hip and they immediately nuzzle into the touch. “Good girl,” you hear him croon as his fingers crook behind her ear. Then he cocks his head and a pair of lustrous eyes are visible over his opaque, round-rimmed glasses.
Hair prickles on the nape of your neck. His stare settles just beyond your shoulder. The pigment in each iris is oddly dispersed and startlingly light, a clear blue with infinite depth, as if they were plucked right from a celestial body. “Thanks for keeping him on a leash,” he tells you with teasing cadence, mouth curled into a smile. Kota gives an affronted grumble and you laugh, combing your fingers through baby-soft hair.
The man inclines toward Kota, “Her name is Maya, by the way. You can’t pet her but you can say hello”.
Enthralled at this development Kota bends his knees in an bouncy little dance. “Maya-chan. Hi. My name is Kota,” he gurgles, hands covering his cheeks. Maya simply snuffled, a long tongue licking at her snout, and shifted on her front paws.
The attractive stranger nudges his dark glasses higher up the bridge of his nose. He wets his lips. “And what’s your name?”
It takes an embarrassing amount of time for you to realise he is asking you. Rattled by the prolonged silence you set your sights firmly on Kota and clear your throat to introduce yourself, “It’s nice to meet you”.
“Yeah? I don't get to hear that too often,” he replies, mouth thin as if fighting a broader smile. It’s a lovely shade of balmy pink. “I’m—”
“Gojo-san?”
The barista glances up from reading the name on the ticket, visibly flustered that he interrupted. “I’m sorry. Your drinks are ready,” he makes an aborted motion to hand the tray over and then seizes. “Ah—would you like me to take this to your table, Gojo-san?”
“That’d be great,” nothing about Gojo’s visage, nor his posture, changes. You feel pinned under his broad scrutiny. Anticipation swoops through your stomach as he angles his gaze in Maya’s direction, where Kota remains besotted. “Y’know, my other dog is here too. She’s actually retired now, so you can come and pet her if you want, Kota-kun”.
You balk. This guy.
“Yeah!” Kota effuses, crashing into your legs. He pats at your thighs. “Please. Can I, can I?”
You cast a lingering glance at the poor weather, a sheet of rain obscuring the view to the street, and ponder what Kota’s parents would want. As he’s an only child they’ve expressed their desire to get a pet in the near future. It could be a good lesson for him, and you have nothing to do until the shower calms.
“That's—kind of you. If it’s no trouble…?”
“Wouldn’t offer if it was,” Gojo replies. You are at least reassured by the fact that he doesn’t sound all that put-out. More than anything he looks pleased, like the cat that got the cream. He gestures toward the poor barista, waiting to the side with fingers flexing around the tray handles.
You nudge the little boy, “What do you say?”
Kota takes a deep breath, the air pushing out his cheeks. He bows, hair falling over his eyes, and gives an emphatic: “Thank you!”
Gojo’s runs a hand through his hair. It looks silky. A smooth glide, no tangles caught on his knuckles. Then he rolls his shoulders, expression schooled into something comically serious. “In that case I’m going to need you to do something, Kota-kun,” he says.
The tone has Kota’s spine ramrod straight. “This guy here is going to my table. Think you can walk behind him and lead the way for Maya?”
Kota’s eyes are wide and sparkling. He vibrates at the promise of responsibility. You observe the exchange with an odd fondness. Gojo is a stranger. Yet he has somehow has managed to win over the most stubborn kid you know.
“Maya,” he kisses his teeth. Maya rises to attention, locking onto her owner while he readjusts his grip on the harness handle. She tracks the movement of his free hand through the air as it comes to lightly tap Kota’s shoulder. “Follow,” he states.
Spurred into action as though commanded himself, the barista leaves to find Gojo’s table. Kota looks to you seeking permission. You nod and he wanders closely after the man on his little legs, glancing back every few seconds, brighter each time he notices Maya trotting onward at his heel.
Gojo’s gait is languid and purposefully slow. There's buoyancy to him as he navigates the space, trusting Maya completely to get to their destination. You walk a suitable distance from his side, inwardly dithering and unsure whether or not to push aside the few chairs obstructing the path. Maya doesn’t appear concerned. You’d hate to break her focus.
She takes Gojo deeper into the cafe with confidence. Tucked away in an alcove at the back of the room is a booth. In the booth is another dark haired boy, much older than Kota, around twelve or thirteen if you had to guess, and curled under the table is another large dog.
The boy is not impressed in the slightest. He frowns at the sight of you and Kota, disgruntled. Thoughts visibly pass over his face and whatever conclusion he comes to he glares up at Gojo for it.
As the barista sets down the tray of drinks the cups rattle against their respective saucers. He bows and slips away. Kota is beginning to squirm again. You can tell his patience is waning.
“I’m being glared at, aren’t I?” comes Gojo’s amused murmur. Though the boy’s ire isn’t directed at you it feels awkward to be in the line of fire.
“You are,” you reply, pinching the back of Kota’s hood to prevent him from diving under the table. “Are you sure this is fine? If your son isn’t—”
Gojo waves his hand as he strides forward, carefully resting it on the backrest of the cushions and he uses it to pivot himself into the booth. “Not my son. More like a nephew, or something. Right, Megumi?” the boy—presumably Megumi—flares his turned up nose and crosses his arms over his chest.
“Or something,” he says.
“Maya,” Gojo continues in a clear voice. “Down,” Maya is deliberate in where she rests, remaining within his reach. “Stay,” her paws cross one over the other, and she rests her chin atop her wrists. When she’s settled, he coos another, “Good girl”.
Maya’s tail swishes happily. Megumi grunts. “Don’t be like that, Megumi. The kid only wanted to meet Ren,” Gojo drawls. At the mention of her name Ren crawls out from under the table seeking attention. “Why don’t you show Kota-kun how to pet her?”
“Why me?”
“You’re older. Set an example,” Gojo rests his cheek in his palm, taking his glasses off to hook them on the end of his slender finger. Those startling eyes drag aimlessly over your form as he sighs, “Tsumiki would be so disappointed if she knew”.
At that Megumi’s arms drop in deference. He scoots out of his seat and coaxes Ren to sit. She’s a lovely dog, and big, with a luscious thick white coat and soulful eyes. He sticks his hand out, expression a complex mix of boredom and determination. Like he didn’t want to do it, but if he really had to, he wanted to do it well. “Kota-kun, right? Give me your hand,” he says.
Kota bounces on his toes and obediently drops his hand into the older boy’s. “You have to let animals smell you first. Let them decide if they want to be touched,” Megumi guides it toward Ren, proffered and upturned for her to scent. She nuzzles into Kota’s small palm and licks it for good measure, making him squeal.
Gojo melts into the booth cushion, entirely mellowed out. You stare at his profile, appreciating the soft line of his cheekbone right to the shell of his ear, just peeking out under fluffy white hair; lightly cow licked at the ends from the rain, curling right around the stud in his earlobe.
Feeling the weight of your gaze his eyes slide over and you quickly turn away. In the seconds you spent distracted Megumi has shown Kota where Ren likes to be scratched the most. Kota beams as he strokes down her flank, making her tongue loll out and her hind leg reflexively twitch.
You clear your throat. “She’s very pretty isn't she?” you muse, bending to Kota’s height and smiling gently at Megumi. Ren’s warm puffs of breath fan over your fingers as you let her smell them. “Is she the same breed as Maya-chan?”
“Yeah. They’re cousins,” Megumi answers stiffly. There’s a tinge of pink in Megumi’s cheeks now as he buries his hand in Ren’s fur, vying for reason not to look directly at you. “We’re letting them spend time together before we send Ren away”.
“Eh?” Kota’s bottom lip wobbles. His head whips around to Gojo, “Away?”
“Not like that,” you quietly reassured.
Gojo crossed his ankles under the table and reclined with his royal milk tea, wisps of steam curling over the rim. “Ren is too old to do her job now,” he smiles behind the cup, “She’s going to live with a good friend of mine and his two sons. Don’t worry”.
This comforts Kota a bit. “What, um,” he pats Ren’s face, and your heart aches, because he’s being so uncharacteristically gentle. “Maya-chan really has a job?”
“She really does”.
“But babies can’t work,” Kota beseeches. “Mama told me so”.
Megumi huffs, though you think it’s more of a laugh. “Maya isn’t a baby and she isn’t a puppy anymore either,” he says. The proud gleam in his gaze doesn’t escape you as he points at the younger dog. “She’s the best of her litter. I helped pick her”.
“Megumi has a good eye for that kinda thing,” Gojo sets down his cup and gestures to his uncovered eyes, framed by pale and unfairly long eyelashes. You are secretly grateful for the excuse to look at them again. “My eyes? Not so much. That’s what I have Maya for—and Ren before her. She helps me get around”.
Kota’s jaw slacks and he makes a long, drawn out sound of understanding. Ren bounces from paw to paw and you marvel at just how good she is with him. Calm, and attentive. Reacting whenever he reacts. Remnants of her training that she’d likely never lose.
“Go—go…”
“Gojo-san,” you prompt gently as Kota’s brow knits in that very familiar ‘I-don’t-want-to-cry’ manner.
“Gojo-san,” he tries again. “M’sorry your eyes don’t work good”.
Mortification washes over you. “Kota, sweetheart. You can’t just say that—”
Gojo barks a laugh loud enough to draw the attention of onlookers. While he remains unaffected, growing evermore amused, you shy away from their curious stares with a grimace. “Don’t worry. He meant no harm,” he says. “And look, it’s not that I can’t see anything. Want to know something cool?”
Megumi sighs indolently and you suspect he’s heard this spiel before. Kota unfurls from his brief flinch and nods. Gojo tips his chin and bends forward. Kota stares right into his lucent eyes, mesmerised.
“I can see shapes. To me you’re just a weird smudge,” Kota giggles from behind his hands as Gojo pretends to wet his thumb and makes a rubbing motion, like he were wiping Kota from his vision. “But I have too much pressure inside of my eyes. So I don’t just see shapes,” Gojo leans closer and lowers his voice into a conspiratorial whisper, “I see colours around things, like when you squeeze your eyes shut real tight”.
“Woah,” Kota breathes. His fingers clench and unclench where they’re clutched around his coat. “What colour am I?”
The older man decides to entertain the question and pauses to consider Kota with a ruminative hum. You find yourself waiting with bated breath, a shamefully scant portion of your brain focused on the vibration from your jacket pocket. Numbness is spreading up your feet to your calves, knelt on them for too long, but you don’t want to disturb the atmosphere.
“Red,” Gojo answers decisively.
Kota covers his mouth. He swivels on his heels to find you. “That’s my favourite colour!”
“It is,” you echo as you rub his shoulder, your tone gentle and indulgent. Your phone buzzes again and you slip it out from your pocket to check the screen. “Ah,” a brief glance toward the cafe window informs you that the rain has mostly stopped. Gold slats of sunlight are flooding the wet pavement. “It’s your parents, little man. They’ll be expecting us home soon so say your goodbyes”.
“No”.
“Kota”.
A stubborn beat passes. Sulking, Kota is deliberate and slow while he gives Ren a final stroke. “Bye bye, Ren, Maya-chan. Bye bye Megumi-nii. Bye bye Gojo-san”.
“Sure,” Megumi chokes somewhat at the honorific. “See you, Kota-kun”.
Gojo listens to the interaction with a smile. Close lipped and genuine. Though small the weight of it causes his eyes to crinkle slightly at the corners. “It doesn’t have to be goodbye forever,” he suggests.
You hesitate, “Meaning…?”
“If we exchanged numbers then Kota-kun could keep in touch with Maya and Ren. I’ll send cute pictures”.
Megumi scoffs and it makes the blood prickle under your skin. Your face feels hot. “Right. For Kota,” you reply dryly, mouth trembling as you valiantly try to keep the smile out of your voice. He must sense it anyway, because his own widens and he holds his phone out to you.
Kota claps excitedly while you input your name and number. “And how do I know you’re not a bad guy?” you ask, saving the details before closing out the app and handing the phone back.
“I pinky promise?”
Shaking your head amusedly you fix Kota’s coat collar, refastening the buttons before petting Ren farewell. “I suppose I’ll take your word for it,” you tell him. “Thanks again, for letting Kota meet the dogs”.
“My pleasure,” Gojo returns.
“I’ll—we’ll be seeing you, then,” you wave at Megumi, directing Kota toward the front of the cafe. Gojo drapes his lithe body over the table surface and rests his chin to his hand, as if watching you go.
“I’ll text you,” he chimes after you. People lift their heads as you scurry through to the entrance.
What have you gotten yourself into?
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charliemwrites · 4 months
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Part 3 for mean!Simon
CW for consensual dom/sub between Simon and Johnny; dubcon interactions with reader and Johnny. Simon is a dick per usual.
When Johnny comes home, the first thing Simon does is set him back to rights. He's been gone a bit, long enough to need a refresher on how things are done. Just in case he's gotten some silly ideas about who calls the shots.
So once he's through the door, squeezed a little "oof" out of you, and stuck his tongue down your throat, Simon hauls him off for a "reintroduction."
Simon gets him off fully-clothed, whining and panting on his boot, before he's satisfied that Johnny's not forgotten any of his manners. He's rewarded by getting to suck Simon's cock unguided for a little while, drooling and moaning and choking himself to tears. It makes such a pretty sight, Simon is almost tempted to save his discipline for another time.
Almost.
"Up."
Johnny's flushed face twists with dismay, but he drags himself away.
"What have I always told you about your toys, hm?"
Cock-drunk, it takes Johnny a moment to understand the question and develop an answer.
"Tha' I hafta earn 'em," Johnny answers, voice ruined.
Simon hums, carding his fingers through Johnny's sweat-soaked hair.
"And to keep 'em?" Simon prompts.
"Take care of 'em."
Such a smart, well-trained boy... mostly.
He yelps as Simon twists his fingers into his mohawk and wrenches his head back, exposing the vulnerable line of his bobbing throat.
"Then you want to explain what the fuck you've been doing with that pretty pussy I got you?"
Johnny's blinks, sputters. But it's obvious he doesn't understand what Simon means or why he's in trouble. Simon sighs in disappointment, knowing that'll just upset Johnny more.
"'S my fault, I s'pose. Thought you were ready." He shakes his head, eases his grip on Johnny's hair. "Thought you knew how to take care of such a nice toy."
He remembers the unmarked skin of your plush thighs, your round ass. Tsks and shakes his head, watching Johnny paw wordlessly, pleadingly, at his pants.
"M'sorry, sir," Johnny whimpers, puffy bottom lip wobbling. "M'sorry, I'll do better."
"Fuckin' right you will," Simon growls, curling a hand around his vulnerable throat. "Because you're not getting her back 'til I've taught you better. Understand?"
Johnny only just bites back a whine. But he sees the way Simon's eyes narrow and quickly nods, leaning into the hand on his throat, body going lax in submission.
"Yessir," he slurs. "Understood."
Simon strokes his thumb over Johnny's pulse, rumbling with approval. "Atta boy. Your first lesson: if you don't mark something as yours, it's free for the taking."
He hauls Johnny up and throws him face down on the bed.
"Let's begin."
--
By the time he's done with Johnny, the sun has gone down and the house smells like food.
It seems you haven't been idle while they've been preoccupied. Dinner is simmering on the stove and you're just finished turning the dishwasher over.
You turn as Johnny enters the kitchen, expression carefully neutral when you notice the slight limp in his step and the new, dark marks on his neck. He comes right up to you, slinging his arms around your waist and burrowing into your hair.
"Missed you, bonnie," he sighs. "Didnae say so earlier in all the excitement."
From the doorway, Simon watches you blink and carefully circle your arms around him in return. But your body stays rigid, slanted ever so slightly away. Would maybe even be leaning back if not for the counter against your spine.
"It's alright, I um... I got it from the kiss," you assure, patting his shoulder.
He nuzzles in a bit and you seem curious, confused. "Everything okay, Johnny?"
"Aye, jus'... LT says I cannae play with you for a while."
Your eyes dart to Simon, going big and nervous when you realize he's observing.
"Ah. W-well... uh, we can worry about that later, right?" you soothe, gently pulling away to look him in the eyes. He's bit sniffly still, even though Simon made sure he was good after "lesson." You just seem to comfort him like a favored stuffy. "Let's get a proper meal in you for now."
Johnny nods, clutching onto yours hand as you lead him around the kitchen. Collecting serving bowls, spoons, ladling out stew in generous portions - at least for two of the servings - all with one free hand.
Johnny is quiet, drowsy. You keep glancing at him, but he only sways into you whenever you stop moving, rubbing his cheek against yours.
"Havnae been takin' care of you right," he mumbles as you're reaching for tumblers from the cabinet. "LT is gonnae teach me better, though."
You freeze, blood draining from your pretty face. Your eyes flick fearfully to Simon, right where you last saw him. He doesn't so much as twitch, staring you down until you visibly swallow and turn away. There's a little tremble to your hand now as you finish getting the glasses.
"That should be... interesting," you manage. "Ready to eat?"
"Aye, m'hungry. Missed your cooking."
You muster up a shaky smile and gently hand him a bowl of stew.
"That's good to hear, Johnny. C'mon, before it gets cold."
You send him off to the dining table. In his absence, you draw in a deep breath. Then pour Simon a glass of bourbon, taking both it, and his bowl of stew to his customary spot at the head of the dinner table.
He stalks from his place in the kitchen doorway, purposefully crossing you at the corner so that you're forced to flatten yourself against the wall and sidestep. While he seats himself, he hears you getting yourself a water, collecting your own bowl.
When you return, you try to sit next to Johnny as usual, who's sat at Simon's right. This way, he acts as a buffer between you two. But Simon clicks his tongue and you pause, turning to him with a curious blink.
"Over here." He gestures to his left side, putting you across from Johnny.
"Oh... um, okay."
You shuffle around to the other side, still shaky as you set your bowl down and take a seat. Simon watches you for a long moment as you studiously avoid his gaze, eyes on your water glass.
"This is your spot from now on. Understood?" he asks.
You tilt your head enough to make it obvious you're answering him. "Yes, sir."
"Look at me when you answer," he corrects.
You twitch a bit, shift uncomfortably as you force your eyes to look at his chest.
"Yes, sir," you repeat, soft and conciliatory."
"Atta girl," he gruffs. "Now fuckin' eat, the both of you."
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luveline · 5 months
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Hello lovely jade! Can I please request something with Hotch and shy!reader where she just wants him to stroke her hair but is struggling to ask? Love you xx
Lean on me if you're tired, he'd said. 
You couldn't think of a way to say no, didn't want to, so now your cheek is pressed to Hotch's shoulder and your skin tingles each time he moves, reminded of how close you are. Hotch has held you much closer than this, wouldn't have offered his shoulder as a pillow otherwise, but it's still egregiously nerve-wracking. 
And it opens the door for more longing. 
“How much longer?” you ask quietly. 
The dark sky outside and the dim light of the jet demands gentleness. 
“An hour.” He reaches for your thigh, letting his hand rest there, not quite flat. “You can sleep. I'll wake you up when we get there.” 
“Maybe I will,” you murmur, turning your face further into his arm. 
His hand brushes slowly down to your knee. You'd tried to sleep already and had no luck. Hotch —or Aaron, as he insists you call him whenever you're alone— could have you sleeping in minutes if he'd just do that thing he does in bed, your heads on his pillows, his elbow behind your back. He pats your hair so particularly in that it's an unmeasured touch. He changes rhythm, pressure, never too fast or rough but non-continuous. It's unlike him, and it never fails to soothe you to sleep. 
“What's wrong?” he whispers. 
He sounds different when he talks to you outside of work. Sometimes on cases too, he slips into a different voice to accompany his different roles. Right now, he's loving boyfriend, and his affection for you is a breezy, sweet tone. 
“Nothing, I just can't sleep.” 
“No?” He kisses the soft of your cheek. “Is there something keeping you up?” You fluster immediately at his kiss and he knows you will. He gives your leg a sorry touch. “Let me put my arm behind you.” 
“Actually, could you…” Awkwarder not to ask now, frozen on the tongue, you realise how stupid and vulnerable it is to want him to stroke your hair, how he should offer something like that voluntarily, not because you forced him to. “I would…” 
“What?” he asks, lifting his hand to your chin. He pinches it between his thumb and forefinger gently. 
“It's silly.” 
“Hmm.” He hums, looking down at you, eyes practically boring into yours. He smiles knowingly after a moment. “You want me to do something,” he teases. 
Your breath catches. You turn your face down into the chair, mortified, because he can't not have heard it, but he doesn't tease again. His arm pushes behind your back, wrapping around your shoulders, and his hand covers your ear as he pulls you into his side. It's not the most comfortable of positioning until you curl into him and wrap your own arm around his waist. 
“Try to sleep,” he says, as his fingers rise to the top of your ear, and then pass over your hair. He strokes a long, steady line, and when he gets to the base of your head he moves his hand back to the top. He strokes your hair for as long as it takes for you to fall asleep, and a little while after, too. 
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imyourbratzdoll · 10 months
Note
oh… I’m begging you… just begging to please send this in as a request… I’m horny and now I wanna make it come to life😭🥺//
I knew you would like it 🤭
Can i request this fic?
"Okay so the reader wakes up cause there's a storm outside and she's scared of thunders, she goes downstairs and Steve and Bucky are watching a match while drinking their beers.
They start cuddling her a bit to let her fall asleep again but she's too scared so they think of a way to relax her
They bring her in her bedroom again and after pit her in the middle, they start sucking and licking her nipples while they play with her puffy clit and her wet hole
She's so relaxed after that she doesn't realize that they are using her to let some dtress out themself while she sleeps"
Of course they'll praise her a lot, cause she's their little obedient dumb baby🥹
-🌻
hey baby, I hope you like this.
connected to this fic - lavender dream
summary - you are scared of thunder and quickly find comfort in your stepfather and step-uncle's arms.
warning - smut, stepcest, fingering, nipple play, somnophilia, swearing.
18+ only please, the gif I use isn’t mine, divider by @newlips
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You whimper when the sound of thunder can be heard from outside your window, cuddling your knees close to you as you cry. You were supposed to be sleeping, but the sound had woken you, and you could no longer get back to sleep, too scared. You quickly stumble out of your bed and outside your room, going downstairs and toward the loungeroom, where you can hear your stepfather and Bucky watching the game. You squeal when another rough sound of thunder rumbles through the house, quickening your pace. You hug your stuffed bunny close to your chest as you stand in the room's entryway, staring at the relaxed men with tears in your eyes. 
“Sweetie, what’s wrong?” Steve quickly diverts his attention to you, patting his thigh. “C’here, baby.” You stumble over to him, quickly jumping onto his lap and burying your face into his chest, squealing as you hear the thunder again, and that’s when Steve understands, and he rubs his hand up and down your back. “Oh, baby. Are you scared of the thunder?” You nod, clinging to him. “There’s nothing to be scared about, baby.” He looks over at his best friend. “Isn’t that right, Buck?” 
Bucky scoots closer, resting his hand on your lower back. “It’s true, doll.” He strokes your hair out of your face. “We’re here, doll. Why don’t you try and go back to sleep?” 
They pull you close, rubbing your body and whispering soothing words. You whine, wiggling against them. “Don’ wanna! Too scary.” 
Steve sighs slightly. “Okay, baby. Buck, can you…” He nods toward the tv, and Bucky nods back, pausing it as Steve stands with your legs wrapped around him and begins to walk out of the room and up the stairs. Bucky follows closely behind. “We’re going to relax you, baby. Make sure you won't be scared of the thunder anymore.” Steve and Bucky enter your room, and he places you down in the middle of your bed. Both men crawl on either side of you. “Close your eyes, baby. Bucky and I are here.” 
You whimper, “Okay, daddy…” You close your eyes and relax into your pillow, feeling goosebumps erupting on your body as they slide your nightie up, placing kisses along your flesh before making their way to your hardened nipples. You softly whine as they flick their tongues against them before gently wrapping their lips around them and sucking. You feel their hands moving between your legs and sigh and moan as they connect to your dripping hole. Bucky plays with your puffy clit while Steve pushes a finger into your sopping hole, curling them, growing hard as a soft whimper escapes your lips. 
You feel a fuzzy feeling take over you, listening to them as you are pulled deep into slumberland. 
“Such a good girl, baby.” 
“Doing so good for us, doll.” 
“Fuck you feel good, always a good little obedient dumb baby for us.”
They use you, playing with your puffy cunt, licking and sucking every part of you. Their hands are all over your body, focusing on you and ignoring their throbbing members. You are pulled into a deep sleep, finally relaxing against the bed as your juices flow out of you and cover your stepfather and step-uncle. 
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thank you for reading!
feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.
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luxeslore · 1 month
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DILF!simon is rotting my brain rn and i need more<3
consider this a follow-up to this post.
18+ CONTENT, MDNI -> themes & warnings: f!reader, heavier / plus sized!reader, mentions of weight gain, pregnancy + parenthood, simon is a handsy pervert (out of love) in every scenario, some sneaky bathroom sex.
many grueling months fly by and as expected, a baby is born. and yes— as cliché as it may sound, everyone and their literal mothers were right when they said all the discomfort and fussing would be worth it the second you see your pudgy, bundle of joy. a baby girl with wispy blonde hair and a scowl that could rival her father’s any day. she’s perfect. the spitting image of all the best parts of you and simon combined and oh, you’re crying again just thinking of it.
your shared world becomes a whirlwind of bottles and pacifiers and diapers, and neither of you would trade it for anything ever. not even simon who’s sure that your beautiful but screaming baby is definitely helping him go grey quicker as more time passes. until she’s eight months and mostly babbling instead of screeching— has rolls of fat on her arms and legs leading up to her tiny hands and feet, shiny eyes, and cheeks that make your hearts melt into puddles. again, she’s perfect. your whole family agrees, too.
as simon says, your whole entire fuckin’ family— he wasn’t too happy when they shared they’d be visiting. mostly because you already have too much to worry about and now being a pretty, little host is thrown into the mix. you don’t seem to mind much as you walk around the get together with the baby on your hip, checking on everyone to see if they’ve helped themselves to enough food while your baby giggles along. his two sweet girls.
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“thought i’d never catch up t’you,” he gruffs behind you.
you hear the sound of him placing his can of beer down on the kitchen counter and before you can move on your feet to grab another out of fridge for him, he stops you.
“enough,” it’s not harsh. it’s breathy and amused— “just relax for a second, mumma. everyone’s fine, babygirl’s with your mum. breathe.”
breathe. maybe you forgot how to do that today.
at that, you melt against simon. you rest your dewy forehead against the stone wall of his chest and he’s quick to pat your head, to trail a hand down your back in a soothing caress. he doesn’t mean to reach the hem of your sundress. just happens naturally, and so does the way he grabs up your thighs that have gotten deliciously plump under the stresses of motherhood. filled you out in all the right places that he already loved so much. he could haul you up and have you right there— “simon, we can’t.”
“think we can do whatever we want in our house, dollie.”
you hate when he’s right, and you hate how you let him yank you into the bathroom down the hall of all places. the click of the lock makes whatever anxiety hanging around in your chest finally dissipate. you’re hoisted up onto the sink before you can bat your lashes at simon, and the next second you’re wrapped up in a nasty kiss he places on your lips. it’s nearly all tongue as you whimper into his mouth, tugging at his shirt while his own hands make quick work of your dress.
the material becomes bunched up around your squeezable waist, exposing your comfy panties to simon and leaving you half bare— “we’ve gotten too comfortable with quickies,” you cant help but whine the words out.
you miss the days of him laying you down and making you cum until you just can’t take it anymore, and vice versa.
“i know, i know,” he attempts to soothe you through sweet, rough kisses. “gonna take good care of you soon, promise.”
you nod along to his words. only to softly gasp when he finally pulls your undies to the side.
simon always takes a second to play with your pretty cunt, rubbing a thumb through your messy folds and circling your clit how you like it. loves to watch your thighs lock up and hear you squeal his name like you used to when you first started dating— some things will never change no matter how settled down you two are. his cock aches in his jeans as you pussy drools around nothing. you’re about to open your mouth, about to tell him you both need to hurry.
but he’s already unbuckling his belt, eager to make you forget that there’s other people in the house aside from you two for even a few minutes.
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bts5sosempire · 2 months
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A/n: another blurb cuz why tf not? Another Dad!Simon and this man deserve all the softness in the world. Plus, I am not a professional in baby-ology, so take this cute drabble with a grain of salt. 🤟🏻
Simon was convinced his child hated him; the first six months were hard. He might as well get a reward trophy for participation in creating one of the prettiest girls in the world instead. The man tried to get his daughter to get used to him, but every time he hold her, the baby girl realized she wasn't in her mother's arms and they wriggled, before fussing and let out a few cries before going to a full-blown one. Thus, this lead you having to drop whatever you're doing and tend to the baby instead as Simon take over the current chore(s).
"Simon, just give it some time."
The sentence you always use to comfort him, but he still feels a little discouraged, maybe a bit hurt on the inside at the baby's refusal to be in his arms. He was excited for nine months to see his baby girl, but only for her to reject him once she came out of the womb.
"She'll come around, and once she do it'll be worth the wait."
.
The only time the baby seems to stay content in his arms, albeit a little angsty like always when you're not around, and the calmness appears to remain stagnant only for a moment until she starts fussing again; their little whimpers begin to bubble out, as wondering glossy little beady eyes search the room for you as they feel disconnected from their mother who was nowhere to be seen. Simon does his best to quell the child and soothe them before they can cry again.
But alas, it failed as their eyes had tears wounded up in them, and he already knew the signal cries she was going to make. So he had to speed dial you on call and put you on speaker to talk to the child. Honestly, Simon felt terrible for calling you for something as minor as this when he promised to take care of the baby and that he 'got this' for the next few hours when you did the shopping run. "Sorry, Love, it seems she wants to hear you."
Once the baby has heard your voice, they immediately stop crying and listen intently to your sound, like in a trance. The man felt hopeless about the child wanting you only, not him; he watched how they calmed down into obedience as he rocked them from side to side. The amazing things you do that soothe the child in a heartbeat.
But it wasn't until your voice was directed at him.
"Simon, I know you're doing your best trying to have her adjust to you, and I want you to know that I am proud of you for not giving up."
His heart warms at that.
.
It was late noon when he let his baby girl sprawl on the floor inside her playpen as he was watching a show while keeping an eye on her. The moment the little girl gained consciousness as a separate entity from her mother, she began to roll over on her stomach before crawling to sit up, and her little eyes glossed over, looking around the playpen, searching for the maternal needs before it landed on Simon who took his eyes off her for a fraction.
Her little bottom lips begin to quiver and poke out before bursting into tears as Simon quickly steps into his fatherly instinct and scoops up the baby into his arms, silencing her. They bleary wipe their beady tears away with stubby fingers before looking up at him and seeing her father's eyes looking down at her. She sniffed as Simon wiped the snot away with a thumb under her nose, "It's okay, I got you," his voice deeply resonated when he patted her back as his baby girl kept looking at him like it was seeing him for the first time in a different light.
With another sniffle and a little disgruntled noise, she rubs her eyes again and presses her forehead to the thumping side of his heart, slowly calming down. She realized it wasn't so bad to be in her father's arms and have another parent close to her to ease her separation anxiety.
It felt like magic for Simon, how she eased her miniature body into his instead of rejecting him and crying for you until you had to come and get her. He continues to soothe her while swaying from side to side, and you pop out of the corner on the open archway into the living room from the kitchen to see the rainbow after the storm.
You were about to say something, but you quietly mouth:
"I told you so; enjoy it."
With a smile.
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outsideratheart · 4 months
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By Your Side, Always (Alexia Putellas x reader)
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A/N: We’re supercampeones!!! I’m not sure what this is but I hope you like it.
The first 45 minutes of the game you were having fun, the whole team was. Levante knew that Barcelona would make them work but tonight you and the team were putting on a world class performance. They were never a team to give up but with 7 goals scored and them not being able to find the net, they struggled to find hope and accepted their defeat. They were now fighting to keep the score at 7 and it started to get messy. 
It was clear that you had been made a target by Levante’s entire back line. You didn’t care though, you could take it. If anything you welcomed the physically because it meant you were allowed to give them a taste of their own medicine every so often. 
Alexia wished she could be on the pitch with you but she must admit it was fun being in the stand watching you play the way you were. 
“She’s showing off” Mapi said to no one in particular as she watched you dance around their left back even looking back and smirking to her once you sent the ball into the box. 
“She’s unstoppable when she’s like this” your girlfriend says. 
She regretted her choice of words not even a minute later. There were two defenders between you and the goal. You were determined to make it 8. That is until you get taken out by not one but two players. You felt one set of studs go into the outside of the ankle and another set on the inside. You truly had never felt pain like it. 
Alexia heard your outcry of pain and could do nothing but watch as you laid on the floor clutching your ankle. 
“I need you to get up. I need to go to her” Alexia stood to her feet, desperate to be by your side. 
“You can’t go onto the pitch” Mapi slowly got up, careful not to knock her knee. 
Her warning fell on deaf ears and Alexia was already rushing towards the pitch. As expected she was stopped by Jona but she stayed near the sidelines waiting for you. 
“Please get up” Alexia whispers to herself. She began to fear the worst when she sees the physio signal for a stretcher. 
“We both know she’s too stubborn to use it Alexia. Give her a few minutes and she’ll be up” Jona pats his captain’s shoulder in support. 
The coach was right. It took a little longer than Alexia would have like but you are up on your feet. It’s obvious that the injury is bad because you are using the teams physios as crutches so you don’t put any weight on your ankle. 
What is the ultimate telling sign is the way you refuse to meet Alexia’s gaze when you get to the sidelines. Nevertheless she follows you into the tunnel and waits by the door of the medical room. 
“Come with me, please” you have your back towards Alexia but she can hear the pain in your tone. 
“I’m here” 
Alexia sits on a chair beside you as the physio begins examining your ankle. At the first touch you wince and move your foot away which only makes it hurt more. He gives you a couple of minutes to compose yourself but asks to try again. Your arms hide your face as the pain becomes excruciating. The only thing stopping you from breaking completely is the soothing way Alexia is stroking her hand over your thigh. 
“They’re almost done. Try and breathe for me ok?” 
And try you did but you also failed. It was a form of panic and you knew it. 
The physios explain that they think it’s major ligament damage and that they will take you for scans once you’re back in Barcelona.  
“I’m going to give you some space. Alexia, make sure she ices it and try to get her to stay still. Give it ten minutes then she can put the boot on and use the crutches. No weight on it, understand?” 
“They studded my ankle, not my ears. Don’t speak about me as if I’m not here” you sit up quickly. At least now you understood why you needed to keep still. 
Alexia got up as the physio left. She places ice on your ankle as gently as she could before she turned out the lights. She knew that when you were overwhelmed the darkness help calm whatever you were feeling inside. 
“Whatever it is, i’ve got you. I know how you think and how you’re going to want to do this alone but that won’t happen. I won’t let it”
Alexia moves the chair so that it was closer to your head. She places a gentle kiss on the crown on your head. 
“I don’t want to talk about it” 
You turn your head away from her. That hurt Alexia but she knew it was your coping mechanism and once you’ve processed what’s happened you will be more open to talk.
Alexia had just opened her mouth when she heard a door slam and a lot of foul language. 
“That’s Lucy and if she’s in here for the reason I think then I’m going to kill her” 
Your girlfriend rolled her eyes. You weren’t in the mood for this and deep down she knew the reason why the English defender was now in lockeroom even though there is 10 minutes left, maybe less. 
“Y/N I’m coming in” technically it wasn’t a question but still she could have waited for a response. 
“Get out” you growl. 
“Oh did I interrupt something” Lucy gives you both a playful look. 
“You’re a fucking idiot Luce. I know for a fact you didn’t get subbed off because that wasn’t part of the plan so that only leaves one reason” 
“Y/N calm down” alexia begs.  
“I was defending you. They took you out. I wasn’t going to let them get away with it” Lucy met your anger and walked towards you. That was a mistake. 
“Get out!” You stand up and your own weight collapses underneath you. 
“Lucy, please” Alexia begs your England team mate who raises her hands in defeat and leaves you be. 
She then helps you back on the bed. A couple of minutes pass and you hear the final whistle following by the cheers of your team. 
“I’m not going back out. Torre can lift the trophy” 
“Y/N. You’re their captain and you scored a hattrick. It should be you up there” 
“Well I’m not going to be and you can go tell them. Go Alexia” 
She saw the look in your eyes. The look, which in the past, told her that your mind was made up and there was nothing she could do to change it. 
“Just come out when you’re ready. We don’t let moments pass by without celebrating them. You told me that” before leaving Alexia made sure she turned on the TV so that you could at least watch the trophy ceremony. 
You didn’t like what you just did but you did it anyway. Alexia has had a tough few weeks and she need this, she needed it more than you needed her. 
As instructed Marta lifts the trophy and you feel fine about it. Barcelona has a group of leaders but it just so happens that only one can wear the armband. 
The silence wasn’t comfortable and it started to put you on edge. You saw the boots and crutches by the examination table taunting you.  
Don’t let the moment pass by. 
Alexia watches Marta lift the trophy and then celebrated with the team like they do after every trophy win. She hoped you might have come out by now. 
She is near the centre circle when she hears the crowd errupt. She may have her back to the tunnel but she knows it’s you. 
“I thought you said she wasn’t coming out” Jana asks. 
“No. I said she wasn’t lifting the trophy” Alexia knew you would come out. Due to your slow pace, no thanks to the crutches, Alexia met you half way. 
You let the crutches drop to the floor as you wrap your arms around her neck. 
“I’m sorry for pushing you away. I just —“
“Needed a minute. I know. You’re here now and that’s all that matters” she lets you rest against her as your hands you the crutches. 
“Have you been crying mi amor?” She noticed the tear staines on your cheeks. 
You nod slightly and she can see that something is going on in your head because your eyes begin to well up. Alexia cups your cheek and gently wipes away the stray tear that has fallen. 
“You don’t have to wait until I’m not there to cry Y/N”
“I know” 
Side by side you walk towards your team mates who are all ready to greet you. Bruna is the first one too you, of course she is. 
“Here” she hands you the game ball “I got everyone to sign it for you” 
“Thanks B. You know I’ve got so many of these I’ve lost count. Why don’t you go give it to a fan?” The young forward takes the ball back happily and runs towards a little girl. She makes her turn around so that you can see the fan is wearing you shirt. You send her a little wave and it makes her day. 
“I don’t want to be injured” you stick your bottom lip out causing you girlfriend to chuckle slightly. 
“We’re professional football players, we never want to be injured but sometimes it happens. There’s nothing we can do about it” Alexia was full of wisdom. 
She definetly didn’t feel this way when she got hurt but you decide not reopen old wounds. 
“And these things are stupid” you wave one of your crutches around. 
“Are you going to be complaining everyday until you’re back on the pitch?” 
“Yes Alexia, I am. If you don’t like it then tough because you’re stuck with me” 
“I’m ok with that and I’m ready to return the favour because we both know I wasn’t exactly a ray of sunshine when I got injured” 
“You can say that again. I almost sent you back home to your mothers” you were teasing her and she knew it. You didn’t like being more that 5 feet away from Alexia when she was hurt. 
“We both know if I went back to my mama’s that you would be right behind me” 
You could only nod in agreement. Alexia suggests you do what will be half a lap of the pitch so you can thank you fans. It’s a slow amble but she doesn’t seem to mind. The rest of the team had walked ahead so now it was just you, Alexia, Mapi and Ingrid. 
“Does this mean we can do our physio together?” Mapi asks you. 
“No” Alexia and Ingrid say in unison. 
“Why not? We will push each other to get better” 
“And that’s the reason why. You’re too competive, you will make it into a game and we” she points to herself and Alexia “know that it’ll end badly”. 
When you are back at the hotel you are dragged into the celebrations and for the most part you don’t mind it. After a little while you realise that Alexia isn’t around and that is something you do mind. You feel yourself getting more anxious without having her calming presence beside you. 
Then you hear your phone go off. 
Come to you room. Your rehab starts now. 
When you enter your room, Alexia is standing outside the bathroom. 
“I’m going to need you to remove your clothes” Alexia says and your eyes widen. 
“Ok” you pull your shirt off in record time, the shorts however were more of a task. 
“Let me” once the injured leg was free alexia places your crutches aside “rest on me” she tells you. 
She looks up grinning like a devil which makes you shake your head. She always did have half a mind in the gutter when it came to you. 
“Maybe later” she pecks your lips and doesn’t expect for you to pull her back in for something more passionate. 
“Sure, Putellas”
She pretends to act offended at the use of her surname. Alexia then uses her strength to lift you backwards and onto the bed, something she could have done earlier. 
“I’m going to take your boot off. It might hurt” she was so gentle in the way you undid the Velcro straps. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry” she says when she hears you wince. 
“I’m ok” you reassure her even though you were far from it. 
What happens next came as a shock but a good one. Alexia lifts you up and carries you bridal style towards the bathroom where you are met with a bubble filled bath. 
“You did this for me?” 
“Yes. Although I’m going to be joining you so I guess it’s also for me” 
“Are you now?” You tease. 
Alexia nods her head in excitement with a huge smile plastered on her face. 
Your girlfriend helps you in and then lowers herself behind you. With one hand on your thigh and the other one on your abdomen, you allow yourself to relax. As you tilt your head back to rest against Alexia it gives her full access to your exposed neck and she takes advantage of the opportunity. She knows things can’t get too heated so she settles with peppering kisses on your sensitive spots. 
The two of you stay in the bath until the water becomes cold and your hands like like prunes. 
“You’re strong Y/N, you’ll be ok” Alexia says as she lays in bed with you. You have a movie on and somehow Alexia has gotten some popcorn. 
“I’ll be alright” 
It wasn’t how you expected the night to end. You thought you would be celebrating with your team, jumping for joy and taking advantage of the free champagne. Instead you are in bed, with you leg elevated and ice compressing the injured area. The this one commonality in the current and what come have been; you have Alexia by your side. 
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pretty-little-mind33 · 2 months
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dad!James Potter x wife!reader
Summary: When your eleven-year-old son comes home for Christmas break in tears, you and James are instantly worried.
Genre: Fluff, Hurt and Comfort
Warnings: mentions of blood-purity and prejudices, swearing, their son Henry is nicknamed as Harry ;)
happens in the same universe as Santa Baby
Your husband has always been dramatic, but when your oldest comes home from school in his first-year with frustrated tears streaming down his cheeks, James almost loses his shit.
Henry slams the door behind him and discards his shoes in the hallway, "Fuck," He mutters when he hears you call his name from the living room. You, James, and Emmie had been waiting for him to come home from the train-station. Emmie sits impatiently on your lap, making small gurgling noises as you bounce her on your knees. James had cooked (burnt) Henry's favorite dinner and he stands up, frowning when he hears his son curse.
"Harry?"
You stand up too, worried, as you hold Emmie in your arms. You hear Henry's footsteps run up the stairs. James looks puzzled as he looks back at you. You shrug and walk up next to him, handing him Emmie as she clings happily to his arms. "I'll talk to him," you pat James's forearm and walk up the stairs to Henry's room.
Gently, you knock on the door and then open it a little. Your heart shatters when you see Henry laying on his stomach, his arms around his pillow as he muffles his cries.
He's always been sensitive and you're cautious as you sit near him. "Honey? What's wrong? Can you tell me what's happened?"
Henry shakes his head, only turning it to mutter, "Go away, mum. I don't wanna talk."
Your eyebrows scrunch and you reach out to touch him, but hesitate and stand up. "Do ya' wanna talk to dad?" you ask, knowing Henry sometimes wants James instead.
Henry doesn't answer for a moment until he nods. You nod too, closing the door behind you as you make your way downstairs again. James is standing at the end of the stairs, Emmie on his hip, as he looks at you concerned. You reach him and take Emmie from him. "He wants you," you whisper.
James's eyes soften and he kisses your cheek, soothing a hand over your hair and down your cheek. You know it's usually a "man problem", as James calls them, when Henry wants James instead of you. Still, James knows your heart breaks when you can't help your baby boy.
James walks upstairs and disappears into Henry's room. You return to the living room and place Emmie down on her play-mat.
James and Henry don't talk for long as you hear hurried footsteps come down the stairs. "Honey?" you call, confused, and you stand.
He doesn't answer and just grabs his coat, his cheeks flushed a dark crimson. He looks beyond pissed. You turn to Emmie, you don't want to leave her unsupervised and she usually starts to cry when she sees her dad this upset so you know you can't carry her to him either.
"James!" you shout after him.
Henry runs down the stairs, his tears now gone as he follows James outside. "Henry!" you shout once more but neither of them listen to you. You feel helpless as you hear the car start in the driveway. You don't understand. You hold Emmie in your arms and sit on the couch, stomach in knots.
After what seems like an hour, the front door opens and Henry's laughter fills the room. You've put Emmie to sleep so you run to the door, hugging Henry to your chest as you tug a hand through his dark curls. James follows behind him, stopping dead in his tracks when he sees your expression.
"Where were you?" you say, narrowing your eyes at your husband.
"Oh, mum, you should have seen dad! The way he shouted at Liam's dad because of what he said at the station—it was awesome!"
"What did Liam say at the station, baby?" you ask him quickly.
"No, not Liam, his dad. He saw me come off the train and he made some comment about you, mum. About you being weird and how it must have passed on to me. He also called you a Mudblood but I didn't understand what that meant and dad won't— " James stops Henry with a hand on his head and you look up at your husband.
Your heart feels like it's beating hard. Weird. Mudblood. You've heard worse but something about it hearing it come from your son's mouth—knowing someone had said that in front of your son makes you ache.
Liam's dad went to school with you and James and he's always been a jerk, but that doesn’t make it excusable. James kisses Henry's head and sends him upstairs. You look at James, teary eyed as you try to find the right words. James just hugs you to his chest, his hand on the back of your head. "Shh," he whispers, "it's okay," he promises but you shake your head.
"It's not okay," you wipe at your tears, "Richard called me that in front of my son. It's humiliating," You bury my face in my hands. James's expression twists and he looks upset.
He cups your cheeks gently, kissing your nose. "I'm so sorry I left so quickly, my love, but he had to know I won't stand for anyone messing with my loves," he says sternly.
While his anger isn't directed at you by any means, it hangs in the air.
"I- I don't know what to say to Henry," you whisper, voice shaky, as you lean your head on James's chest. James's heart sinks at your tone and he holds you close.
He nuzzles his nose in your hair. "You don't have to say a thing, darlin'."
"Yes, I do," you pull away and look into your husband's eyes, "I'm his mother. I have to explain to him what that word means before he hears it at school again. Which, I'm surprised he hadn't already," you try to sound brave but James sees through you.
He always does.
"Hey, it's okay," he says as he runs a hand up and down your shoulders. He kisses your head gently and continues, "We'll talk to Harry, okay? Can you warm up dinner while I get him?"
Your shoulders relax a little and you nod. With your mind still fuzzy, you walk up to the pot where James had been making pasta and scrunch your nose. It's all burnt and cold by now. You glance at your wand on the counter, but instead, you decide a frozen pizza should do nicely.
After a few minutes, James comes back in with Henry hanging from his arm like he would as a little boy. Seeing you, your son jumps down and runs over. He hugs you and leans on his tip-toes to kiss your cheek. "I love you, mum," he smiles and your heart melts. Henry's smile widens when he smells the pizza in the oven.
"How many sweets did dad bribe you with to say that," you tease, ruffling Henry's hair.
Henry shoots James an unsure look but then smiles up at you, "None," he says confidently and you pretend to believe him. You look at James with a look that says, 'stop bribing our son with candy'. James just smirks and swoops in, resting his hand on Henry's shoulder.
"Harry, your mum and I wanna talk to you about something important, alright," he looks at you and pauses so you can take over.
You nod and crouch down to Henry's eye level. You hold his hands, "Honey, what Liam's dad said wasn't okay, you know that right?" Henry nods, listening intensely. "Mudblood is a very mean word that's used for witches and wizards who are Muggleborn—that come from muggle families—like me."
"I know you do—grandma and grandad don't understand magic," Henry grins.
James chuckles and smoothes his hand in Henry's hair and says, "Yeah, exactly, bud. But, you must never use that word, understand?"
Henry nods seriously and looks up at James. "What am I then? If mum's a Muggleborn and dad's family is—"
"In technical terms, you're a half-blood, honey," you say, standing and kissing his head gently, "It's all nonsense anyways. It really doesn't matter at all because you're a wizard. As long as you can do magic, then that's all that matters."
"Yeah, and you know your mum is way better at magic than I am," James says with a pretend pout, "so really, blood-status is a bunch of bogus," Henry looks at his dad and laughs at his dramatic display of feeling sorry for himself. You roll your eyes and push on James's arm, but you're secretly grateful for him lightening up the mood.
Once the talk is over and Henry is tucked into his bed, his stomach full of pizza, you finally exhale. You sit at your vanity, brushing your hair, and James is changing into his pajamas. He sits on his side of the bed and fiddles with Emmie's muggle baby monitor.
"I can hear you thinking, my lovely," he hums. He stands and makes his way over to you. He wraps his arms around your shoulders and kisses your cheeks. His hands caress up and down your arm as he whispers, "Henry understands. He's smart. You're raising him well."
"We're raising him well," you remind James as you turn to look him in the eye.
James chuckles. "I bribed him with candy. You taught him a valuable lesson."
You scrunch your nose and stand, wrapping your arms around James's torso as you hold him close. Your husband eagerly pulls you into him and inhales the scent of your hair. He leans his cheek on your head and you nuzzle into him.
As much as hearing other wizards and witches talk down on you hurts—like they've done all your life—one solace is that you have the most wonderful husband, who never cared about something as silly as blood-statues, and said wonderful husband gave you the most beautiful children you could have asked for.
"Thank you," you whisper, thanking James for being himself, "I love you." You've never meant anything more.
"I love you more," James finishes and kisses your head.
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