#south side husbands actually

[ohbo-ohno]

run until you feel your lungs bleeding (ghost x reader)

summary: You're on the run after finally escaping from your abusive husband's clutches, hitchhiking south along California highways. A strange man in a black mask picks you up, and it doesn't take you long to realize that not every hand offered should be taken.

word count: 6.5k

cw: dark fic!, noncon somnophilia, referenced abuse from a past partner, ghost does not care about reader's feelings, mentioned drinking while driving but no intoxication

read on ao3 - see the pinterest board

One of your blisters is about to burst. You’d worn through your only pair of clean socks yesterday, leaving the back of your heel vulnerable to your old tennis shoes and their vendetta against your feet. You can feel your skin rubbing thinner and thinner with each step, know it’s only a matter of time before you’ve got blood flowing freely into your shoe. 

You keep your left arm stretched out, thumb held up in the hope that someone will take pity on your limping form and give you a ride.

It’s not likely, you’ve been hitchhiking for days now and not a single person has slowed down. You’ve got no real destination, just a goal of putting as much space between you and your piece of shit ex-husband as possible. Your end goal is Arizona - you’ve got an aunt somewhere in Scottsdale, if you can get to her you can only hope she’ll help you get back on your feet.

A few people honk as they drive by. In the two days you’ve been walking, none have stopped. You take short power naps at night off the side of the road, pray to every god you can think of that you don’t get run over or eaten by something.

You haven’t yet. But you know if you don’t get a good night's sleep soon, don’t start putting actual distance between him and you, then you might not survive your escape.

The sun is at its apex when the semi-truck pulls up beside you. It’s black, the trailer attached is plain white with no logo painted on. You can hardly believe your luck, gape up at the massive thing as it slows. The door pops open a moment after the truck rolls to a stop, but it’s so high up that you can’t see who’s driving past their hand - gloved - before they pull it back.

You don’t have the luxury of asking questions. You just stumble over, flinching back with a little hiss when you place your palm on the metal of the truck and burn your hand. It takes a minute to finagle your way into the truck, but you manage it eventually, huffing and puffing all the way up. 

The first thing you notice about the man in the driver’s seat is his size - he’s big. Bigger than any man you’ve seen before. You just reach his shoulders even with both of you sitting down, his legs are spread so wide his knees nearly rest on his door and the gearshift, his head is close to brushing the roof. He’s just… big.

He’s wearing a black neck gaiter pulled up to cover his mouth and nose, which strikes you as odd considering he’s driving on his own, but you brush the thought off. His hair is blond, greasy and limp on his scalp, you doubt he did more than run his fingers through it getting out of bed. His eyes are blue, a light shade that surprises you for some reason. You don’t know a thing about this man, certainly not enough to be surprised by anything about him, but the blond hair and the blue eyes… it doesn’t quite fit with the black gloves and the mask.

He’s reclined back in his seat, one hand resting on the wheel and the other on his thigh, eyes scanning you like a king his subject. His eyes linger on your tiny shorts (sleep shorts, what you’d been wearing the night of your escape), skip right past the sluggishly bleeding scrapes on your knees and scan your ratty backpack.

You hope he won’t ask you to empty it. You’d like to keep your gun for as long as possible, can’t imagine this trucker would be ok with the hitchhiker he just picked up having a loaded weapon.

He doesn’t speak when he finally makes eye contact with you. You can’t hold it for long at all, only manage a few seconds before you’re glancing around his truck.

He doesn’t speak. Neither do you.

His car reeks of smoke. There’s a beer bottle in his cup holder, open and helf empty. There are more bottles - empty - by your feet. He doesn’t have the radio playing.

When you look back at him, his eyes are already trained on yours. You can’t help but flinch - the intensity of his gaze feels suffocating, even after only a few seconds of being held under it.

You work up the nerve to speak, take a few deep breaths and a few more long looks around the truck, the space this man spends most of his days in.

There are cigarette stubs on the dashboard, which has clearly been used as a makeshift ashtray. The seats are old, the leather peeling and tempting you to pick, and the dash itself is sunbleached.

“I’m trying to go to Arizona,” you finally say, flickering your eyes quickly to his and away again. His jeans are worn - but naturally worn, like he’s had them for months and washed them so many times they’ve lost their color. “Are… are you heading that direction?”

You look at him long enough to see him incline his head a bit. You don’t think he’s blinked since you got in the car.

“Goin’ south,” he affirms. His voice is a low grumble, British accented. Not necessarily unsurprising to hear in California, but a shock from a truck driver. “I’ll drop you somewhere along the way.”

He pulls away from the shoulder with that and turns away from you, apparently finished with the interaction. 

Being dropped somewhere along the way isn’t necessarily your ideal situation, but your feet scream in relief at the lack of pressure, so you’re certainly not going to complain.

You shift a little further back in your seat, tuck the backpack between you and the passenger door. He could reach it if he wanted, but keeping yourself between this stranger and your prized possessions feels like the right choice. You think about propping your feet up on the dashboard, but decide you don’t want to seem too rude to your apparent savior.

You look out the window. You’ve never been in a car this high, and even the flat California highways look more interesting at a new vantage point. It’s easier to focus on the far-off mountains than the giant beside you.

“So,” you cough lightly, awkward in the relative silence of the truck. The engine is loud, but the driver’s radio is dead silent. “What’s your name?”

He grunts, gives no other response. You glance over to him, a little unsure of yourself. Had you made that bad of a first impression somehow?

He doesn’t turn to you, and he doesn’t answer your question.

Alright, you tell yourself. Maybe he does this all the time, maybe he’s tired of making small talk with homeless and desperate hitchhikers. That’s probably it.

You don’t give him your name. Instead, you tuck your feet up to the seat beneath your thighs, turn your body fully to the passenger window, fold your arms on the windowsill and lay your chin on your elbows.

The drive is smooth enough for you to relax, even though you know that logically you shouldn’t. You’re a young woman who’s just gotten into a car with a strange and intimidating man who could very clearly physically overpower you. Nobody knows where you are. You should have a hand on your gun already, ready for anything the driver might try.

But you’ve been walking for days, and hadn't been sleeping well before that either. You haven’t had a good night’s sleep since your wedding night. The low rumble of the engine, the heat of the sun beaming through the glass, the surprisingly gentle motions of the truck…

You don’t quite let yourself fall asleep, but it’s a near thing.

———————————————————————

The two of you stay like that for hours. Your benevolent driver seemingly comfortable in his silence with you drowsy and relaxing in his passenger seat. You don’t stay in the same position for more than an hour or two at once, shifting your legs and always keeping any pressure off your feet.

You’d like to pull your shoes off, to ask if the man has any band-aids. Maybe any food, any water. But you can’t risk pissing him off, not when your other options are nonexistent. So you settle for slow movements, trying to keep your blisters from being irritated.

He finishes his beer before the first hour has passed with you in his vehicle. Waits another two to have a second. You don’t comment on it, but the scent makes your lip curl, and you bury your face in your arms to hide the reaction. You hope he’s not a lightweight. And despite the heavy stench of cigarette smoke sunken into the interior, he hasn’t had one yet. 

He’s the one who speaks next.

It’s a quarter until 6, and the sun has started her slow journey to sleep. You’ve been watching the sight for a while, entranced by the slow process with nothing else to amuse you.

“Pullin’ off,” he grunts.

You can’t help but jerk up straight at the sound, caught off guard. You’d nearly forgotten about his accent, about how deep his voice really is.

“For gas?” You ask, turning in your seat to glance at him for the first time in at least an hour. He only grunts again, a noise you’re just going to assume means yes. 

“Alright,” you nod, letting your feet drop to the floor from where you’d crossed them beneath yourself. “Are you… do you want me to find someone else to ride with?” You cross your fingers where you tuck them beneath your thighs, pray to every god you know of that he doesn’t make that yes grunt again.

He looks over to you this time, and the two of you make eye contact for the first time since you’d gotten into the car nearly six hours ago. His eyes are brighter than you remember, and the impact of them sends a jolt up your spine.

You’re not sure how long he looks at you. You feel stuck under his gaze, a little wide-eyed prey animal spotted by a predator who can only lay still and hope they move on. You’ve never felt quite so pinned before, quite so unable to break eye contact. You don’t think you like it.

He looks away first, shifts in his seat and drops one hand from the steering wheel to lay on his thigh. You swallow at how tight his jeans are, how his thighs seem to nearly bulge from them. 

“No,” he finally answers. It takes a moment for you to remember your own question, but your sigh of relief is loud once you do.

If you’re lucky, he’ll try and drive through the night. Dangerous, since it’ll make for nearly twenty-four hours on the road, but you’d rather take your chances with him than falling asleep at the wheel then spend another night staring into a dark forest and wondering if there are wolves in this part of the country.

He turns off the highway three exits later, pulls his truck into the first reststop. It’s the only structure in the nearby area, a McDonald’s-Subway-Shell mix with ten pumps, less than half with someone using them. It’s the kind of rest stop you’ve seen on countless roadtrips, one that you know exists off half the exits in the States. The familiarity of it makes your lips twitch up in the corners.

There are several other semi-trucks pulled up getting gas, none quite the size of your driver’s. He parks quickly and easily, in one try, and turns the truck completely off. You shift a little in your seat, unsure what he’ll want from you, but he’s hauled himself up and out of the truck before you can open your mouth to ask.

You settle a bit. He’d said he wouldn’t make you leave but you still can’t fully relax for some reason, can’t bring back the looseness to your shoulders you’ve had since he picked you up. You entertain yourself by watching a middle aged couple try and wrangle six kids that look like they’re all under ten, since I’m sympathy when the littlest one’s face goes red and he starts to wail.

The door next to you opens without warning. You manage to catch your bag before it can go tumbling out of the car, can’t hold back the little yelp of surprise. Your eyes are wide, fingers holding tight to the bag, when you look up through your hair.

The driver’s face looks the same as it has for the last six hours - expressionless. Even with the mask, surely his eyebrows should move at least a bit? He looks almost like a corpse above you - pale face and flat features. It unnerves you. 

“Gettin’ food. You got money?”

You hesitate for a moment - you do have money, small bills you’d snuck from your husband’s wallet that you’d planned to use for a bus ticket. You’re not starving yet, the few granola bars you’d taken in your escape will tide you over for a little while longer.

You shake your head.

He nods, like he’d expected that, and glances over your form from head to toe again. “Alright. You want somethin’ to eat, now’s your chance. We’ll be back on the road for another few hours before I stop for the night.”

With that he turns away, jumps down to the parking lot and stalks off toward the McDonald’s. It takes you a minute to follow him, still a little shocked that you’d gotten multiple sentences from him at once.

The thought of free food is far too tempting to let you linger for too long, though, and you’re throwing your bag over your shoulders and scampering after him only a moment later. You have to trot a little awkwardly to keep up with his long strides. He doesn’t hold the door open for you, but you catch him glancing over his shoulder to see if you’re there.

The teenager working the register looks like it’s their first day, and you assume a middle-aged man leaning against the counter beside her is meant to be showing her the ropes. He’s far more occupied with whatever’s on his phone screen, leaving the cashier to stare up at your driver with wide eyes.

You get it. Standing next to him now, you decide he’s not big - he’s huge. Has to be at least six and a half feet tall, and at least a foot taller than you. Combined with his muscular form - another odd thing for a truck driver - and his all black attire, he seems almost like some sort of monster or omen come to warn about the future.

You step up to the counter beside him, give the cashier your best reassuring smile when she glances at you. It gives her enough courage to stumble over, “Welcome to McDonald’s, what can I get you today?” after only a few stuttering starts. You’re quite proud of her.

“Five Big Macs and fries. No drink.” The man rumbles, his mask umoving. He glances down at you, finally cocks an eyebrow (an expression!) for you to order.

“Uh, just… just ten nuggets for me,” you smile at the cashier, glance up at the driver to make sure you haven’t somehow ordered too much. “And, uh, a Coke?”

“Will that be all for you today?”

“Make it a twenty nugget meal,” your partner corrects, then pulls a worn leather from his back pocket and pays with a shiny card. You can’t help but eye the many bills folded neatly in the wallet.

“Thanks for the upgrade,” you say as the two of you slide onto a pair of stools to wait for your food. “I really appreciate it. I, uh, I can’t pay you back, though.”

He glances at you again, holds you pinned under his gaze and kicks your heartbeat up a few notches. It becomes a conscious effort to keep your breathing steady when he spreads his thighs enough to brush against yours. 

“Don’t worry about it.”

Your meal is largely silent. He all but inhales three of his five burgers, leaves the other two wrapped up presumably for later on the drive. You try and eat all of your nuggets and fries, but your granola bar diet of the last few days means your stomach feels stretched to his limit only a few bites into the meal.

After your fifth nugget, you tuck the little box closed. Shift towards your driver and glance up from the window you’d been staring out to see him already looking down at you.

You clear your throat, take a little sip of your Coke. “I’m done.”

He shakes his head once, reaches forward to pop the little box back open. “No, you’re not. We’re not getting back on the road ‘til you eat at least half.”

You can’t help but blink in surprise at him, not moving to take any more food. He won’t tell you his name, won’t make any small talk whatsoever, but he will worry about how much you’re eating?

He grunts when you don’t make a move to listen to him, pushes the little brown box closer to you. “C’mon. Eat.”

You get through another five under his eye. He doesn’t look away from you, and now you know about the stare. It feels heavier now, like every little twitch from you is catalouged by him. It makes every bite difficult to swallow.

He nods when you tuck the little box closed again, glance a bit wearily at him to make sure he’s content now. He picks up your tray, tucks his two sandwiches in one hand, and leaves. You scramble to keep up.

His strides are a little shorter in the parking lot this time, and the slower pace keeps your blisters from further irritation. You’re not sure it’s intentional, but you’re thankful nonetheless.

The truck is still difficult to get into, but the worn leather seats are a familiar comfort now. This time, your driver flicks on the radio as he pulls out of the rest stop.

For some reason, you feel like maybe he likes you. There’s something in the line of his body that feels a little softer now, the tension in the truck feels a little drained. It could be the music, but you prefer to think that he’s taken a bit of a liking to you. It means he’s less likely to end up hurting you, means you're less likely to have to rely on your non-existent shooting skills.

With the sun nearly fully set and the soft music from the radio, it’s much harder to keep yourself awake. You curl up in the seat, lay your head down on folded arms, and try your best to keep your eyes open.

———————————————————————

You don’t know how long it’s been when you wake up.

The truck is silent now, no engine and no radio, and the world outside is pitch black. You jerk up at the realization, quickly lay a hand on your bag and turn to your driver.

He’s staring at you. You nearly yelp in surprise, bite your tongue so harshly to keep the noise back that you taste the tang of iron.

He looks nearly inhuman in just the low light of the truck. Pale skin, blonde hair, blue eyes, a dark black mask obscuring half of his face. His body is turned towards you, black shirt and dark pants making him look almost like the top half of his face is just… floating. 

“I need to sleep,” he rumbles, keeping you held captive in what almost feels like a staring contest - like if you look away now, you’ll lose something. “You can take the bed in the back.”

That gets your heartbeat quickening, the thud of your pulse loud in your own ears. “Oh… I thought…” you swallow, finally tear your eyes from his to look around. You seem to be at another rest stop, this one a small dark building with two bathrooms and a few vending machines. There aren’t any other trucks parked around you. “I thought I might try and find a motel or something.”

“With what money?”

He’s got you there. You work your tongue against the roof of your mouth, clear away the blood and try to make your mouth not so bone-dry. “Yeah,” you nearly whisper, eyes darting back to his before away again. He hasn’t moved. You clear your throat before speaking again. “But, uh, I don’t want to kick you out of your bed. I can sleep up here.”

“You’ll take the bed,” he reaffirms, with no room for argument in his tone. You can’t help but feel like there’s something more here, like you’re missing something. You don’t feel safe anymore, not like you had after the McDonald’s. Why did you let yourself fall asleep? You could have pressured him to pull off somewhere with a motel, tried to finagle or scam yourself into a room with a lock on the door.

Now you’re stuck in this dark truck, no one else but the driver around for miles.

You swallow again, force down a cough.

You don’t want to sleep in his bed. But a glance over at him tells you that’s what’s going to happen. Your driver doesn’t seem the kind of man to take kindly to disobedience.

“What’s your name?” You ask again, voice weak and quiet. For some reason, this feels important. Like a name will make him more human, easier to swallow.

He only tilts his head a little, face still stoic. “Get in bed. We’ll drive again when the sun rises.”

“Please,” you try, a hint of desperation creeping into your voice. You can’t explain it, but you need his name. Need some evidence that he’s more man than he looks. This moment feels pivotal, and there’s a little voice screaming at the back of your head that things are going in the wrong direction.

“Sleep, doll,” is all he says. His voice isn’t softer, but it’s quieter, like maybe he understands the fear coursing through you.

You squeeze your eyes shut a moment before pushing yourself up, both hands holding onto your bag - your literal only possible defense againt this man - like a lifeline. You know they’d shake if your grips was any looser.

It’s too dark to make out much in the back of his cabin. The bed is a decent size for you, but you wonder if he’s able to stretch out fully on it. You think you can see the outline of a minifridge and a few books resting on the floor. 

He’s still watching you as you sit on the bed, his body unmoved but his head turned towards you. You try to keep your breathing steady as you toe your shoes off, tuck your feet up to the bed with you and curl up on your side.

The bag doesn’t leave your arms. His eyes don’t leave your form. He makes no move to stretch out and sleep like he’d said he would.

You force your eyes closed, no matter how wrong it feels. You try and will yourself to sleep, tell yourself everything will be fine. If he tries anything, you’ll shoot him.

You can still feel his gaze on you when you finally slip into unconsciousness.

———————————————————————

You wake slowly to movement behind you. 

You blink heavy eyelids open, let them fall shut again when there’s no difference in what you can see.  You feel cloaked by sleep still, like your brain has been held underwater and everything moves a little slowly, a little muffled.

The bed dips behind you, and there’s a warmth behind you. A hand at your waist. The top of a foot against the sole of yours. A chest against your back.

Your eyes stay closed, but your brows furrow a bit. Your husband has always hated the idea of cuddling, slept like a corpse on his back and berated you if you dared to touch him in your sleep. You nearly roll over, but figure that might set him off. Your arms still ache from the last argument you’d had.

The hand slips beneath your shirt, rough palm against your waist, thumb smoothing in little circles.

That catches your attention, too - your husband’s hands are soft. He’s never done a day of work in his life, the only job he’s had is some fake title made up by his father at his company. The hand on your skin isn’t soft at all, it’s rough with big, thick fingers that rest heavily on you.

The realization comes to you in pieces.

Your master bedroom was never this dark, the large windows always left wide open to allow moonlight into the room. Your ex-husband’s hands are smooth, boney and nearing on frail. The foot brushing against yours triggers a burning sensation in your blisters.

You keep your breathing even - an effort that feels impossible. 

It’s not your husband at your back, it’s the truck driver.

He’s silent as he tucks himself fully to you. His breath is damp against your neck and you fight down a shudder at the sensation. 

Your bag isn’t in your arms, which means you don’t have your gun. Whatever happens, whatever he does to you, you have no way of defending yourself.

The only reason you don’t cry at the thought is because you don’t want him to know you’re awake. It’s pure self-preservation that keeps your breathing even, your limbs loose, and your breathing slow.

He brings his head closer, his breathing loud in your ear. Every part of him is pressed against you, and you can’t help squeezing your eyes shut more tightly at the hardness poking into your back.

He’s silent as he sets his chin over your shoulder. His groin is tucked right beneath your ass, his knees behind yours and his feet benath yours. He’s just… spooning you.

It feels like an eternity passes just like that. Your heartbeat pounding in every bone, the heat of the driver’s body against yours. His breath is the only noise you hear, ghosting over your ear, heavier than your own.

Eventually, he starts to move. You almost whimper when you realize what he’s doing. 

He’s humping you.

His movements are slow at first, just a little rock of his hips against you. But as the minutes pass he becomes more incensed, his thrusts harder against you, his breathing heavier. He grunts at one point, and it takes everything in you not to flinch away.

You want to scream. You want to open your mouth and shout, to roll over and make him stop.

But you don’t have your gun. And he dwarfs you, every inch of your back covered by him and then some. You can’t stop him.

So you let it happen. You keep your eyes screwed shut, try desperately to go anywhere else in your head and pretend you don’t feel how quickly his hips begin to rock.

His hand moves from your hip to your stomach, his pinky resting on the waistband of your sleep shorts. You don’t think you could stay quiet any longer if his fingers slipped beneath the hem, and you let out a near silent breath of relief when his palm continues up instead of down.

He almost rolls you onto your stomach, angles you so your front is closer to the mattress and he can grind more on you than beside you. His hand slips further up your shirt, and you bite your tongue at the feeling of his rough palm against your nipples.

That gets another huff from him, another low sound that could almost be a moan. You feel him shift again, his hips working a little more roughly. You’re not sure how he possibly thinks you’re still asleep, but you pray he doesn’t take it any further as long as he does.

He doesn’t pinch, just softly strokes over one breast. His hand engulfs it fully, fingers wrapping all the way around the little mound of flesh. The calluses on his palm send little sparks down your spine, and you curse your body for the buzzing sensation between your thighs.

His breath gets heavier in your ear, he’s nearly panting over you. If you weren’t wearing shorts and he wasn’t wearing jeans, he’d be fucking you. His thrusting almost feels like he is. The… thing grinding against you is clearly large, even through all the layers of clothing, and you say another prayer that he doesn’t do more than this.

“Fuck,” he grunts, his chin pushing hard into your shoulder. You almost jerk at the sound of his voice, the evidence that this is real and not some horrible nightmare. 

You wish you could fall back asleep.

You don’t know how long the whole thing lasts. The pitch dark, the driver’s oppressive weight against you, it makes time feel liminal. You’re not sure if he lasts for five minutes or five hours.

But eventually his hips slow, give a few harder thrusts before he goes completely still and lets out a loud groan. Again, you wonder how he expects you to have slept through the noise. 

He shifts back a little in the aftermath, rolling you back to your side with a heavy hand on your stomach. You try to keep yourself as limp as possible, try to make your face go slack.

He lays with you for a while, breathing even and slow. You wish he would leave, wish he would let you start pretending this never happened. His hand stays on your stomach, and you can feel the other crossed over his midsection at your back. His feet hold your ankles to the bed. You hope he can’t feel that you’re squeezing your hands into tight fists where they rest against your thighs.

He doesn’t leave. Instead, he shifts his own thick thigh between your own, the rough denim of his jeans irritating the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. He tucks his leg up, settles it right against your core.

You can’t help the way your breath hitches at the sudden pressure. You hold it immediately after, then try to breathe normally again when you realize how obvious the sudden change sounds. He doesn’t react, though, so you think you’re safe. 

The pressure increases a bit more before stopping. You’re almost propped up on his thigh, your pussy pressed against him through your shorts. It’s hard not to open your eyes, to look down and see what’s happening.

His hand slips down from your stomach to the waistband of your shorts. You can’t keep yourself from moving this time, already knowing what he’s going to do. You shift your hips a little, make a tiny noise in your throat that you hope comes off as a normal still-asleep sound. The movement only presses you closer to him.

He hums lowly in your ear, fingers stroking across the waistband of your shorts before dipping inside, then past your little gray panties. You can’t help the little squeak you make, the way your hands twitch before you force them still.

The sound he makes is almost a laugh, too low and quiet to really be one though. He hushes you softly, pushes on the meat of your most vulnerable part to still you. 

You don’t know if he thinks you’re awake. You think he must, there’s no way you could have slept through what he’d just done, and you’ve moved twice now. But he doesn’t speak to you, doesn’t become more aggressive.

You debate putting up a fight when his fingers sink lower, his palm resting heavily over your cunt. But the thought of him becoming rough, of him restraining you… it makes bile churn in your stomach.

You resign yourself to waiting until it’s over, go limp against the bed again.

Another hum, and his free hand moves beneath your body to grasp your hip. He moves you slowly, little grinding motions over his thigh. The hand over your heat uses two fingers to spread the lips of your cunt, tucks the gusset of your underwear and the fabric of your shorts to the side so your clit makes direct contact with his jeans.

You keen quietly at the sensation, a little animal noise of fear, of pain. You wish you had your gun, wish you could make this man stop.

But you can’t. So you bear it.

He doesn’t touch your clit with his fingers, doesn’t touch any part of your pussy but to spread you wide. His thigh moves along yours, his hand grinding you against it. You hate the slickness gathering at your hole, hate the way your nipples tighten, the way your breaths become heavier.

You bite your tongue to hold back any other sounds, that tang of blood returning after only a few seconds.

“C’mon,” he says into your neck, his voice a low whisper. “Come f’r me, doll... be good.”

You don’t want to be good, can’t suppress the little whine you make at even the thought. He rumbles low in his chest in response, pushes against you a little harder.

You can’t stay quiet through your orgasm. It’s a slow thing, rolling and deep. You feel it in your toes, in your scalp, and in every vein between. Had you been willing, been with a partner of your choice, you may have thrown your head back and cried out. But here in the truck, with this man you can’t believe you were stupid enough to trust, you squeeze your eyes so tightly shut that tears eek out the corners and bite your cheek until there’s a sore. And still, a moan vibrates in your chest.

He stops grinding you against him when your orgasm is finished. His finges slip from you slowly, tuck your panties back over your mound and give you two little pats before he fully pulls his hand away. 

Both of his hands slip back up your stomach, grab a handful of your chest and massage you there for several moments. Your breathing gradually slows as your body comes down, your limbs going limp again despite the fact that his hands are still on you.

He rolls you to your back when he’s finished. You feel his lips press against each of your eyelids, squeezed shut no matter how hard you try to force your face to relax. Another tear slips down the side of your nose, and he kisses it away before it can reach your lips. You feel his tongue stroke beneath each eye, know that he’s cleaning away your tears. He gives you a final, chaste kiss on your lips before pulling away.

He’s gone a moment later, and you’re left cold and alone in his bed.

———————————————————————

He smokes a cigarette while he watches you sleep. Your nose twitches at the first hint of smoke, and he almost smirks at the expression.

He can’t believe he found you. A perfect little doll of a girl, limping all filthy and sad along the side of a highway, just waiting for someone to scoop you up. God truly does have a sick sense of humor, gifting a bastard like Ghost a gift like you.

He hadn’t planned to keep you at first. He figured he’d ride with you for a while, fuck you a few times to have a warm place to dump his cum before dropping you off at a rest stop for another driver to scoop up. But no, that won’t do now that he’s felt your cunt against his hand, watched you try desperately to hold back every expression because you thought it might keep you safe.

He’ll have to find out where the finger-shaped bruises on your arms are from. After this trip, he’ll find whoever left them and take care of them. He’ll be the only one hurting his little doll, no one else. Might even win him a few brownie points with you, if he’s lucky.

Your feet probably need bandaging, too. He’d seen the redness at the back of your ankles when you tucked your feet up on his seats, felt the blisters against his own feet when he laid with you. He’ll make sure you stay off your feet for a bit, give them time to heal.

That gets another smirk. You won’t be leaving the truck for a long time, there’ll be no need to worry about your blisters after tonight. He’ll keep you off your feet. Maybe have you thank him for taking such good care of you.

He’ll try your mouth next. He bites back a moan imagining your face pressed against his crotch, knows already that the difference in size between the two of you will be absolutely pornographic at that angle. Can’t wait to teach you to deepthroat him, salivating at the image of you holding him in your mouth on the road.

He’d already wasted one load, it’s only right you take the next. You’re his now, which means he shouldn’t have to come in his fucking pants like a teenager ever again. 

But he’d gone easy on you, hadn’t made you take him in any of your holes this first night. Even let you pretend to sleep through the whole thing, though your shifting hips and little scrunched up face gave you away as soon as he pressed himself against you.

It was endearing, really, the way you tried so hard to pretend it wasn’t happening. He can still taste your tears on his tongue, mixing with the acrid taste of nicotine. He can’t wait to learn what your pussy tastes like.

He takes a long pull from the cigarette and considers your little shaking form.

You won’t need much now that you’re with him. Only a few outfits in case he needs to bring you in somewhere, but you’ll be kept naked when in his truck. He’ll have to find a motel sometime soon, get all the grime washed off your skin and the grease out of your hair. He’d like to see it brushed out, see how you might style it for him.

He’ll take good care of you. Feed you when you’re hungry, maybe get some little toys or books if you’re good, fuck you whenever you - or he - needs it. 

It’ll take a while for you to settle, he knows. You’ll spend a bit looking for that girly little gun you’d been keeping tucked away in your bag. But that’s okay. He already knows he’ll enjoy training you, showing you just how to be the perfect little doll for him.

He stubs the cigarette out in an ashtray, climbs back into bed with you and tucks you tight to his chest. Your little sniffling breaths draw another little twitch of the lips from him, and he buries his nose in your hair before shutting his eyes.

Yeah, you're going to be perfect for him.

#cod #simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost riley x reader #bo writes #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #ghost riley x you #dark fic #cod x reader #ghost cod #cod fanfic #call of duty fanfic

[reallyromealone]

Okay so hear me out.

Sanzu x reader but it's an arranged marriage for connections between Bonten and another Yakuza. But the entire time reader is just kinda forced to dress as a girl because his dad didn't have a daughter to shuffle off to Bonten, so when Sanzu gets time alone with reader and actually gets to talk to him and hug him - he finds out reader is a guy and is just like "WTF- Wait I actually like this better" or something.

Absolutely uwu

🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐

(name) was uncomfortable as he was dressed and polished, makeup making his face look more feminine than it was.

He hated that he looked like this.

He was going to his "engagement party" with Bonten higher ups, he was being married off to bontens second, he didn't even know who he was. He just hoped it wouldn't go south.

He didnt know who he was, what to do as he walked into the venue, both Bonten and (Yakuza) were guarding the grounds as (name)s father left him by the arm as if he were a daughter and (name) wanted to claw his eyes out with his manicured nails "behave, fail and I will /kill/ you" (name) wasn't even a spare, third born and just a chip for his father so he knew he was serious. The venue was impressive, many people from various organizations there along with political leaders, it was quite the event.

He was never celebrated this much.

Cremes and pinks, gold silverware and expensive plates along the white tables and the marble reflected the expensive chandeliers.

It was all too much.

"Your fiance saved no expense for you" his father said and practically threw him to the wolves to get a drink.

He just wanted to scream.

He was greeted and congratulated by everyone before he even got to meet his future husband, everyone commenting about how lucky Sanzu was to get with such a beautiful girl, all of them pretending like it was love at first sight, not knowing (name)s secret. He didn't even know who this "Sanzu" was, the entire time being chatted up by others and talks about future children being wed for stronger bonds, (name) wanted to puke.

"So you're the little bird our Sanzu is marrying" a white haired man with a tattoo on the side of his head commented and glanced at "her" up and down almost judgingly but made a sound of approval "he wouldn't shut up about you, he's absolutely smitten from a photo" he said passively before smirking if you grow bored of him let me know"

Gross.

(Name) concluded he did not like the one he learned was named Koko who mentioned Sanzu was off assisting their boss with something of importance, (name) wasn't sure what and he didn't know if he wanted to know.

He stood at the window, the venue being at the top floor of a luxury hotel, the city looking tiny from this high and the lights of Tokyo lit up (name) in a way that made him look ethereal, the city reflecting off his eyes.

"I was looking for you" a voice said calmly and a man walked beside him and stared at the city below with his fiance "beautiful" he said no longer looking at the city lights but at the painting of a "woman" before him, never let it be said that Sanzu wasn't romantic, he only was when he chose to be.

Like now, the man pulling (name) close from behind to look at the city and kissing his hand gently "you truly are a sight" he whispered in his ear and kissed gently and (name) yelped at the sound and Sanzu halted, he wasn't as easily fooled "are...are.. you a man?" He asked pinning (name) to the glass and looking at him fully, taking in the features.

"M-my father... He didn't have a daughter so he used me instead... I'm sorry for lying to you but I wasn't exactly given choice... I understand if you want to leave" Sanzu was pissed yes, he was lied to and given a man instead of a woman...but he was still that beauty he fell hopelessly in love with.

His pretty little doll.

"I'll keep you, it's better honestly that youre a man" Sanzu looked critical as he looked over at (name) "everyone will be looking for a helpless bride when in reality it's a pretty little husband" he pulled (name) close and his lips ghosted the poorly huffed Adams apple "I mean how could one miss this?" He huffed out a laugh as his piercing eyes stared into (name)s entire being "letting go of such a beauty would be fucking stupid after all"

(Name) let Sanzu kiss him as they hid from their own party "you're coming back with me, I'll have people collect your shit" he said simply and bit into (name)s shoulder possessively "get used to me baby, because you're /never/ getting rid of me"

And (name) in his heart of hearts... Didn't want to get rid of him, the man who despite it all looked at him like he hung the moon.

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x male reader #tokyo revengers fluff #male reader #bonten x reader #haruchiyo sanzu x reader #sanzu haruchiyo #sanzu x male reader #anime x male reader #anime x reader

[crowleyholmes]

Hello friends, lovers, hereditary enemies, and fellow Good-Omens-brain-rot-afflicted!

Inspired by some lengthy conversations and the need for reassurance regarding a renewal for season 3, the lovely Eena @michaelsheens and I have decided to start a little Project!

(Sorry, Crowley, we had to…)

THE NICE AND ACCURATE PROPHECIES* WEEK

Running from SEPTEMBER 25TH to OCTOBER 1ST, it’s all themed around season 3 and the assumption we’re gonna get that renewal. (Manifesting, baby.)

✨ THE PLAN ✨

Every day will focus on a theme around which everyone who wants to participate is encouraged to create any kind of content they want to! Art, fanfic, edits, playlists, speculation, meta, go nuts!

(Also please don’t worry if something doesn’t fit neatly into a day’s theme; they’re only meant to give somewhat of a prompt and structure. Ultimately it’s not that strict and serious, we just wanna see your stuff :))

✨ HOW TO PARTICIPATE ✨

Share whatever your big heart and massive brain comes up with and use the tag #gomensnaap

(It’s like a long nap or something.)

You’re also welcome to give shoutouts to other people’s work you love and want to celebrate, but please make sure to link and credit properly (!!!)

Most importantly: have fun <3

✨ THEMES ✨

(under the cut)

DAY 1: “And there will be great lamentations.”

Let’s talk the Second Coming! We start off and warm up with everything plot-related. Theories, meta, crack ideas, let’s hear your thoughts on where you think the Big Main Plot is going to go!

DAY 2: “I can make a difference!”

For day two, let’s focus on Aziraphale’s arc in season 3. Did he go to Heaven with a plan? Or is he winging it? (Pun only somewhat intended.) Was he threatened or manipulated or both or neither? Will he tell Heaven just where they can stick it or can he actually succeed? What’s in store for our favorite angel?

DAY 3: “Hated by Heaven, loathed by Hell. How will our hero cope?”

Day three is all about Crowley and what we think he’s going to get up to. Is he going to go drink himself senseless and have a good cry? Go snek and hybernate for a bit? Hang out with Muriel and do some tempting? Does he have a plan and how will he cope being on his own?

DAY 4: “There was magic abroad in the air…”

Let’s talk Ineffable Husbands! How are Crowley and Aziraphale going to resolve things between them? Will there be a massive fight? Radio silence for days/weeks/months/years? Will they learn to Actually COmmunicate? Will there be grudges, grand gestures, secret meetings, a big rescue mission from either side?

DAY 5: “Extreme sanctions.”

On day six we wanna make ourselves anxious, sad and upset. (As one does.) What thing that may or may not happen in season 3 are you most worried about? Dark/depressed/evil/etc Crowley? Memory-wiped/brain-washed/archangel Aziraphale? Book of Life? How could Neil & Co hurt us the most?

DAY 6: “Do you…want a hot chocolate?”

After day 5’s spiral, it’s time for a metaphorical treat. What are you most looking forward to in season 3? What do you really want to see? Headcanons coming true? Scenes you wish for? Things that’ll make you wanna name your cat/dog/fish/insert other pet here Neil Richard Gaiman or Sir Terence David John Pratchett?

DAY 7: “It’s starts, as it will end, with a garden.”

Finally, to finish it all up, let’s speculate about the end of season 3. How do you think we’ll leave this story? Will things just go back to how they’ve always been? Will there be peace? Earth hidden from Heaven and Hell with a big 500 Lazarii miracle? Aziraphale and Crowley turned human? Or will they get their cottage in the South Downs for the rest of eternity?

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens season 3 #good omens speculation #gomens #crowley #aziraphale #david tennant #michael sheen #neil gaiman #goodomensedit #goodomensgifs #goodomensfic #good omens fandom event #let's manifest season 3 friends!!!! <3 #ineffable husbands #ineffable beurocracy

[pennyblossom-meta]

A short study on the origins of Gale Dekarios

Going through some game information and Forgotten Realms lore, I found some interesting tidbits about the possible origins of Gale and the Dekarios clan. So, what do we know?

After finding Tara in Act 3, there's a dialogue tree (as of yet still bugged 08/12/2023) where Gale tells us that his surname comes from his mother, Morena Dekarios.

Gale: (...) Courtesy of my mother, the inimitable, dare I say it, sometimes unavoidable, Morena Dekarios.

There isn't much to go on from this. Other than a brief mention that Gale's parents denied him a kitten, we don't know where his father is or what happened to him. Indeed, the surname Dekarios could be inherited from Gale's mother or even his father's side — and for the latter we can assume Morena took on the surname sometime after marrying Gale's father, thus becoming her son's main reference for the rest of the clan upon her husband's absence/death.

That being said, I can't find anything about the Dekarios surname within DnD lore. What we do know, is that Gale's clan is scattered far and wide, perhaps even beyond the Sword Coast.

We also know that Gale is of full human heritage, at least from his closest ancestry.

Now, let's dig in a little deeper.

There are several human ethnicities throughout Faerûn.

As of DnD 3.5, there are seven major ethnic groups widely recognised: the Calishites, Chondathans, Damarans, Iluskans, Mulan, Rashemis, and Tethyrians.

However, as of DnD 5E, the Player's Handbook adds that there are actually nine major ethnic groups in Faerûn, including the Shou from Kara-Tur and the Turami who are native to the southern shore of the Inner Sea. In 3.5E, these groups just receive a brief mention, while in 5E there's more of an attempt on expanding their lore.

Note: If you're interested in knowing more about the different ethnic groups in Faerûn, I would suggest reading the Forgotten Realms: Races of Faerûn (2003), the 3.5 Player's Guide to Faerûn, the 5E Player's Handbook and the Sword Coast Adventurer's Guide.

Here's a useful map of Faerûn from 3.5E.

It's actually the 3.5 Player's Guide to Faerûn and Forgotten Realms: Races of Faerûn that gives us more in depth information about which communities have a major presence in different areas of the Sword Coast.

For example, while Gale and his mother live in Waterdeep, we don't know whether they moved to the city when Gale was a child or, perhaps, his parents always lived there. Perhaps generations of Dekarios lived in Waterdeep — including Gale's aunt Agnes.

Without further information, it's possible that the Dekarios clan even has their ancestral roots beyond the Sword Coast. Who knows?

According to 3.5E, the recommended human subraces in The Sword Coast are the Illuskan and Tethyrian.

In Waterdeep, it's the Chondathan, the Illuskan and Tethyrian.

Given what we know of Gale, lorewise, what would be the most accurate ethnicity for the Dekarios clan? Let's see what the handbooks say about the three major groups in Waterdeep.

--

The Chondathan

Races of Faerûn (2003): (...) Although Chondathans make skilled mercenaries and cunning rogues, Chondathan culture, has not encouraged study of the Art or great religious fervor. Notable exceptions exist, particularly in the study of the Art among the Netherese influenced Chondathan cultures that lie north and west of the Inner Sea.

(...) Those Chondathans who dwell north and west of the Sea of Fallen Stars (except in Sembia) are more likely to have blue eyes and have fairer complexions and darker hair than those born in the South, evidence of a Netherese heritage. In Chondath itself, particularly in the lands bordering Sespech, a significant Shaaran influx in recent centuries has given many natives of Chondath more of an olive skinned hue.

(...) Chondathan Society (...) As Chondathans place a high value on book learning, many receive some amount of schooling while growing up.

(...) Animals and Pets (...) Chondathans favor small felines as pets and hunting companions (...). Tressyms are highly favored by those who can afford them, as are lynxes.

3.5E: Descended from the natives of the Vilhon Reach, these hardy folk have spread to settle most of the western and central Inner Sea region and much of the Western Heartlands. Chondathans form the primary racial stock of Altumbel, Córmyr, the southern Dalelands, the Dragon Coast, the Great Dale, Hlondeth and both shores of the Vilhon Reach, the Pirate Isles of the Inner Sea, Sembia, and Sespech. They are slender, tawny-skinned folk with brown hair that ranges from almost blond to almost black. Most are tall and have green or brown eyes, but these traits are hardly universal.

The Chondathan domination of central Faerún came about largely by virtue of extensive trade and settlement rather than by force of arms. Many Chondathans are merchants of one sort or another, and they are not afraid to take risks, travel, or settle new lands.

5E: Chondathans are slender, tawny-skinned folk with brown hair that ranges from almost blond to almost black. Most are tall and have green or brown eyes, but these traits are hardly universal. Humans of Chondathan descent dominate the central lands of Faerun. around the Inner Sea.

Chondathan Names: (Male) Darvin, Dorn, Evendur, Gorstag, Grim, Helm, Malark, Morn, Randal, Stedd; (female) Arveene, Esvele, Jhessail, Kerri, Lureene, Miri, Rowan, Shandri, Tessele; (surnames) Amblecrown, Buckman, Dundragon, Evenwood, Greycastle, Tallstag

--

The Illuskans

Races of Faerûn (2003): (...) Wizards are rare in Illuskan society. They are widely feared and assumed to be in some way affiliated with the Arcane Brotherhood. Of those who do study wizardry, perhaps the most common specialization is the school of Evocation. Sorcerers and bards are more common among Illuskans, as many Illuskans have a trace of draconic ancestry in their heritage.

(...) Illuskans are not inclined to keep animals as pets, companions, or familiars, as relatively few species are native to Ruathym or nearby islands. Goats, sheep, and geese do better in the cold Illuskan lands than do cattle, swine, or chickens.

3.5E: : The seagoing, warlike people of the Sword Coast, North, the Trackless Sea, and the Desarin river valley, Illuskans are tall, fair-skinned folk with blue or steely gray eyes. Among the islands of the Trackless Sea and Icewind Dale, their hair color tends toward blond, red, or light brown. On the mainland south of the Spine of the World, however, raven-black hair is most common. Iluskans are proud, particularly of their ability to survive in the harsh environment of their northern homelands, and they regard most southerners as weak and decadent. Illuskans make their livings as farmers, fishers, miners, sailors, raiders, skalds, and runecasters.

5E: Illuskans are tall, fair-skinned folk with blue or steely gray eyes. Most have raven-black hair, but those who inhabit the extreme northwest have blond, red, or light brown hair.

Illuskan Names: (Male) Ander, Blath, Bran, Frath, Geth, Lander, Luth, Malcer, Stor, Taman, Urth; (female) Amafrey, Betha, Cefrey, Kethra, Mara, Olga, Silifrey, Westra; (surnames) Brightwood, Helder, Hornraven, Lackman, Stormwind, Windrivver

--

The Tethyrian

Races of Faerûn (2003): (...) In recent centuries, these disparate groups have gradually coalesced into a relatively new ethnic group known as Tethyrians, occupying a vast territory stretching from Calimshan to Silverymoon and from the Sea of Swords to the Sea of Fallen Stars. After centuries of enslavement and oppression by one group or another, Tethyrians are fiercely independent, protective of their freedoms and suspicious of threats posed by powerful kingdoms and empires. Given their disparate ancestry, Tethyrians have never developed a unique language of their own, instead adopting the language of the latest wave of conquerors or refugees. Today most Tethyrians speak Chondathan.

(...) Outside Calimshan, many Tethyrians are craftsmen or caravanners, while others find employment as mercenaries in the employ of other realms. Tethyrians make skilled fighters and rogues, reflecting the struggle to survive successive waves of conquest and generations of warfare. Tethyrian culture has a long tradition of bardcraft, reflecting the absence of a Tethyrian empire at any point ni history and the corresponding reliance on itinerant bards to preserve and spread Tethyrian oral history.

(...) Tethyrians view life as a struggle to be survived through ties to Family, clan, and tribe. To a Tethyrian, freedom is the most precious gift, and the enslavement of another is the greatest sin.

(...) The paths of the loremaster and archmage are both attractive to Tethyrian wizards.

(...) Aside from bards, Tethyrians have not traditionally had access to book learning, although those who do are much esteemed by their peers.

(...) Familial, clan and tribal bonds require that adults look out for one another, so the elderly and those who cannot earn their keep turn to relatives and friends for support.

(...) Tethyrians have strong arcane and divine spellcasting traditions: Bardcraft is revered, and many master bards are of Tethyrian stock. The varied mature of Tethyrian heritage has produced many sorcerers as well. Likewise, the strong influence of Calishite and Netherese cultural traditions has echoes in the large numbers of Tethyrian wizards, although most learn their craft through a traditional master-apprentice relationship, not by attending a formal school.

(...) Animals and Pets (...) Tethyrians are partial to canines, particularly those bred for herding, hunting, or working. Falcons (treat as hawks) and swamp ferrets (treat as weasels) are commonly employed in hunting and often serve as familiars. Ravens are also favored as pets or familiars, particularly in the vicinity of the High Moor.

3.5E: The Tethyrian culture is a melting pot of Calishite, Chondathan, Illuskan, and Low Netherese elements. This unique background makes Tethyrians among the most tolerant, though fiercely independent, ethnic groups in Faerûn. They inhabit a vast territory stretching from Calimshan to Silverymoon, and from the Sea of Swords to the Sea of Fallen Stars. Tethyrians are of medium build and height, with dusky skin that grows fairer the farther north they dwell. Their hair and eye color varies widely, but brown hair and blue eves are the most common. Tethyrians are proud of their diverse heritage and protective of their freedom, so they tend to distrust powerful kingdoms and empires.

5E: Widespread along the entire Sword Coast at the western edge of Faerun, Tethyrians are of medium build and height, with dusky skin that tends to grow fairer the farther north they dwell. Their hair and eye color varies widely, but brown hair and blue eyes are the most common. Tethyrians primarily use Chondathan names.

--

Verdict

After analysing these descriptions, I would say that it makes sense that Gale Dekarios can be of either a Chondathan or Tethyrian heritage — though I'd venture a guess that there's a fair mix of both.

Given that the Dekarios clan is "scattered far and wide", it could imply that they're of a mercantile affinity (Chondathan) and thus have settled in various cities along the the Sword Coast and beyond for trade purposes. Further migration patterns veering west, towards the Sword Coast, and an affinity for magic that can be related to Netherese ancestry (Chondathan and Tethyrian) are valid backgrounds for what we know of Gale.

Some things to consider:

The Tethyrians have more of a natural arcane leaning than the Chondathans (Gale was casting accidental fireballs at the age of 8, among other funny accidents).

The Tethyrians form strong familial and clan bonds (Gale has strong ties to his mother, is very family oriented).

Gale has more of an olive skinned hue, brown eyes and hair, as the combo is more common with the Chondathans ethnicity in contemporary Faerûn. It speaks of a Mediterranean background, if we were to compare it with Earth.

The Chondathans also have an affinity with felines, while the Tethyrian veer towards employing animals for hunting and favor birds of prey as familiars.

The Chondathans place a high value on book learning.

Both ethnicities have ties to the Netherese, which creates a compelling narrative device — especially after Gale's fallout with Mystra due to the Netherese orb incident. However, opportune irony aside, I think that what we see of Gale points to a mix of both heritages and that they reflect different sides of him that go beyond ethnicity, as they also affect his background from a socio-economical standpoint.

#bg3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #baldur's gate 3 #tara the tressym #forgotten realms #bg3 meta #morena dekarios #bg3 spoilers #faerun #dungeons and dragons

[shinestarhwaa]

Waterfall / C.S

Genre: Fluff, Smut

Pairing: Husband!San x Fem reader

Word count: 1,8k

Warnings/tags: newlyweds, husband!san, honeymoon, pool sex, unprotected sex, teasing, fingering, dirty talk, hand job, mild breast/nipple play, semi-public sex, cumplay, squirting, talking about making a baby

After seeing this clip on Instagram I had to write a pool sex smut for Sannie, oop-

Tagging @a-soft-hornytiny to go down with me

ENJOY!

Your wedding had only been three days ago, yet you felt like you were husband and wife for years. It had always been that way, easy. When you met San, almost four years ago, he was still a twenty year old boy.

His voice still quite high, very playful and loving. It didn't take long for the two of you to fall in love. Your personality and energy matched his, and he cared for you.

When you were sick he'd take the train all across Seoul to your home to bring you soup. When it was Summer he'd plan all kinds of dates, often meaning you two would go swimming.

Growing up in Namhae, an island in the South of the country, he's always loved water. Even if it was just sitting beside the water, he'd feel peaceful and calm.

Now it's four years later, and you married the boy, who turned into a beautiful and sophisticated man. Some people disagreed with your marriage, saying you had married too quickly, and some people tended to misjudge his character. But you knew inside the handsome shell there was a warm heart.

While you thought about his kind nature, you felt a familiar hand on your shoulder. San sat down next to you on the edge of the pool, two glasses with champagne in his hands. He smiled sweetly, revealing his charming dimple.

''What are you thinking about, honey?'' he asked as he handed you a glass. ''Just how much I'm in love with you. I made the right decision marrying you,'' you smiled, sipping the champagne.

It was mid March and you were at a hotel in Thailand for your honeymoon. San had almost begged you to get a private pool on your stay, so he was pleased to know your room was at the highest floor of the hotel, with a pool on the large balcony where you could look over the entire city.

San was over the moon to be with you, unable to believe you're actually his wife now. He smiled at you, admiring the way your red bikini flattered your body shape.

After finishing his champagne, he took off the black tanktop he was wearing and let himself sink into the water.

''It's so nice, my love, it's like a big jacuzzi,'' he smiled. You grinned at him, still drinking your champagne. You watched him for a while, just swimming around, seeing him enjoy the water.

You shotted the last bit of your drink before letting yourself sink into the water as well, feeling the warm water hug your body. You swam towards him, but he smirked and you knew he'd just swim to the other side of the pool to tease you.

''San-ah~'' you whined, ''stay still!'' you laughed. He grinned and stopped swimming away. He stilled in the middle of the pool, where you met him, wrapping your arms around his neck, pressing a kiss on his temple.

''I love you, sweetheart,'' he whispered in your ear, ''and I want the whole world to know.''

''Then why did you whisper?'' you grinned, teasing him. San laughed and rolled his eyes.

''I love my Y/N!'' San yelled into the far distance. You quickly put your hand over his mouth, laughing. ''Shut up, San, you're loud.''

''As if you don't like that,'' he winked, causing you to smirk.

San had a very high libido, which resulted in you two having sex at least five days a week usually, and most days it wasn't just once. It was hard to keep up with him at first. You had never expected your sweet boy to be so horny.

As the two of you got older you kept exploring each other and found each other's turn on's. The way he turned from a more lean boy into the muscular man he is now made you weak. He now lifts you with ease, holds you still with ease and there's no way you could beat him strength-wise.

You snapped back in reality when you felt San's wet lips and tongue in your neck, causing you to moan his name. He brought the two of you closer to the edge, so you could hold onto the poolstairs. You wrapped your legs around his hips tightly, hoping to stay above water properly.

He slipped his fingers between your legs, rubbing your clothed core. You whined softly, being sensitive to his touch. He slid your bikini bottom to the side and slowly entered your pussy with 2 fingers.

Countless of times you two had been in the water together, feeling each other up. But tonight, as a married couple, with the light of the moon and the stars and the burning torches it felt special. You'd remember the feeling of his fingers in your cunt forever.

His pace was quick and he knew just how to hit your sweet spots. You tried to stay quiet, knowing there would be people who could hear you, but San was lapping at your clothed nipples and you felt yourself going insane. You couldn't help but let a moan slip from your lips.

''You're so pretty, my love, so perfect for me,'' he whispered in your ear, causing goosebumps to show up on your skin.

He undid the clasp of your top, letting it fall into the water. He licked and sucked at your bare breasts. San seemed to be so eager to have them in his mouth. You thought you'd faint at the sight of him groaning with his mouth full of your boob.

''I need your cock, San,'' you begged, not being able to hold back anymore. Your nails clawed in his back as he fucked three fingers into you.

''Yeah? You need my cock?''

''Yes, San, I need your cock.''

''You need my cock to fill your fucking pussy?''

You thought your lungs would give out, the way he'd speak to you every time you had sex. He was pure filth and you loved it.

He yanked both your bottoms off, nearly ripping them causing you to curse under your breath. ''Those aren't cheap, San,'' you warned him.

''Shut up,'' he said before sinking you down on his hard cock. ''Just take my cock, hm? Like a good girl, my good wife, hm?''

''Yes, yes, I'll take your cock,'' you moaned as he pushed himself deeper inside your hole. ''You better.''

San pushed you against the wall of the pool and you swore you scratched your back against the tiles, but with his length inside you, you couldn't care less at the moment.

You wrapped your legs around his waist so tight, causing him to smirk. He held your hips as he moved you on his dick. The water made it a heavy job, but San loved a challenge.

Your moans grew louder with every thrust, and you felt as if your bodies were colliding in the most passionate and sinful way in the silver moonlight.

Your breasts bounced lightly, splashing the warm water on his chest. He took your right nipple in his mouth, giving it a harsh suck.

''San! O-oh god, I'm close,'' you moaned. San picked up his pace, feeling you clench around him.

''Ah! A-ah, ah, San, yes, San, San!''

Groans and whines fell off your lips while you moaned his name like a mantra, feeling posessed by his love spell.

''Oh San, I'm coming, I'm coming!''

''That's it, baby, cum on my cock, tell the world who's fucking you so good,'' he groaned.

''Yes, San! Y-you, San!'' you moaned.

It took a few more thrusts for you to unravel in his arms, coming on his pulsating cock. He pulled out of you before he could cum, stopping his own orgasm.

You whined at the familiar sensation, still sensitive from your high just a minute ago.

He smirked and rubbed your clit with his thumb, causing you to whine. San kissed your head and laid you on the edge of the pool.

He climbed out of the water and hovered above you, pushing his cock inside you again.

San moved fast and quick, panting heavily now himself. He fucked you deep and hard, your eyes rolling back out of pleasure.

''You're taking my cock so well, baby, do you think you can cum on my fucking cock again? Coat it with your cum so fucking beautifully? Show me how good you are? Hm? Fuck baby,'' he cursed.

''Yes, I'm gonna cum!''

He nearly made you scream with how hard he fucked you, his knee scraping on the tile. It was worth it. Anything to see you come undone on him.

Only a minute later you felt yourself climax on his dick, sending yourself in a heavenly headspace. Your body shook around him, your nails digging in his shoulders as you squirted all over his lower body.

San smirked, his tongue darting out his mouth to lick his lips. He slowly rode out your orgasm and pulled out of your sopping cunt.

''Such a good girl, squirting all over me like a fucking waterfall,'' he groaned.

He brought himself closer to your chest, dick standing proud against his muscular stomach.

''Gonna take care of me now hm? Look at that... My hard cock with all your arousal and squirt still on it... You like that?''

''Fucking love it, San, I fucking love it!''

You spat in your hand and pumped it over his dick, making sure he was well covered before you started to jerk him off.

He groaned loudly, throwing his head back. By the way he was panting and the way his chest moved you knew he was close, and you opened your mouth.

''Cum for me, Sannie, give me all your cum,'' you begged.

Before he could say anything, San spurted his cum all over your chest and your mouth. You licked your lips as you milked him dry, getting all of his sperm out.

You panted heavily when he started licking the cum off your body, gathering it all with his tongue, which he then slid into your mouth.

You felt the cum coat your tongues while they swirled against each other.

''Swallow,'' San ordered when he pulled back from you. You gulped down the mixture of his cum and your combined saliva and closed your eyes.

After a while of laying on the cold tiles in your afterglow, he gently lifted you up and walked back into the hotel room. He put you down in the bathroom and wrapped a large sauna towel around the two of you and smiled.

''My perfect wife,'' he smiled, ''next time we'll make a baby,'' he teased.

You giggled at the thought and you wrapped your arms around his waist. ''That sounds nice, I'd like that.''

''It'll be perfect, sweetheart.''

#choi san #san #ateez #smut #oneshot #this is filth #san in the pool had me going crazy #fluff #i love husband san

[zvdvdlvr]

— Leaning to Live Again.

— 🪻. Synopsis. It’s been four and a half months since your fall. You’re starting physical therapy, and the team (and your husband) is there for you every step of the way- as Aaron gets started on filing a product liability lawsuit.

— 🪻. Warnings. Foul language. Frustrated reader. Female reader. Welder reader. Husband Spencer. Physical therapy. 1.6k fic. Mildly rushed ending. Not mych dialogue. I have no physical therapy experience, so I apologize for any incorrect terms/activities/phrases. Pet names.

— 🪻. Extra. Welder!Reader is getting a lot of love :))) Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy!

— 🪻. Other Welder!Reader fics. Lunch Break. Alive and Breathing.

You spent five weeks in the ICU, four of them in a medically induced coma. The doctor said that it was so you actually gave your body time to recover; the first few weeks after surgery was always the rockiest stage of any major injury.

Spencer spent every waking hour with you, if you were conscious or not. He read to you, had conversations with you, and told you anything that came to mind because he knows you love his voice. After three nights straight at the hospital, the nurses practically begged Spencer to go home, rest, recuperate, and get cleaned up. And Spencer admits, he felt a lot better after going back to your shared home.

When the doctors decided it was time to wake you up, Spencer was all but shoved out of the room. Something abour “not overwhelming her” or something. Spencer wasn’t listening anyway. After texting JJ, she told Spencer she’d let everyone know the news as they were currently in South Dakota catching a serial rapist and killer. And then Spencer resolved to pacing, reciting each song lyric you told Spencer reminded you of him. He repeated the few poems he had gotten you to read, voice softening as you read the words. And Spencer repeated the vows you and him had written for each other, remembering your face and your voice, the way you stood and how you smelled. He relived it as you were being pulled out of the darkness of your unconscious.

“Dr. Reid?” The nurse asked, pausing Spencer mid-step. He watched a few other nurses file out, and Spencer felt his heart beat a little faster in his chest.

“Yes?” He answered, breath held.

“Mrs. Reid is awake. You are more than welcome to go in there, but don’t put her on any additional stress.”

Spencer had barely said ‘thank you’ before he was hightailing it to the side of your bed. He felt the wind rush out of his lunge when he saw you blinking harshly, eyes trying to adjust to the light.

“Hey sweetheart,” Spencer whispered, tears trailing down his cheeks. He sat down and carefully took your callused hands in his.

You cleared your throat. “Hi,” you said finally, voice gravely from disuse. “You okay?”

A watery laugh bubbled out of Spencer. “You fall off a building and you ask me if okay. Baby, I love you so much.”

“Takes more than a fall to take me away from you, husband,” you murmured, letting your hand trace Spencer’s cheek. “But… how is everyone doing? I heard some of the things you guys said when I was… out, but I want to hear from you.”

The genius looked away, salty tears dampening his beautiful eyelashes. “Hotch is planning to prosecute the guys who made the safety harness that you wore because we all know you never would have worn something that was unsafe or had been recalled. We’ve just…” Spencer sniffled, turning his head to look back at you, “I guess we’ve just kept busy.”

You hummed. “How long will I be out of the showbusiness?”

Spencer looked at you, your eyes tired despite all the sleep you had been getting. He knew your world would shatter when he told you that you’d be in recovery for at least another year and a half. Your lipped twitched- an attempt to get the man you loved to smile. Yet again Spencer felt his heart crack: this was going to break you. “Doc says… about two years.”

The pointer finger still tracing Spencer’s face stilled. Your face blanked and Spencer felt the ari leave his lungs at how you looked at him. “What did you say?”

Spencer took your hand in his, kissing your knuckles as his tears fell onto your own and then slid down down down to the cold hospital floor. “Two years, baby.”

“Years. Tw-Two years,” you repeated in a whisper. “Two years.”

Spencer’s eyes shut. Your head fell back on the pillow, eyes boring holes into the ceiling as your own tears welled in your eyes.

“I know, baby, I know,” Spencer cried as you wept silently.

“You got this, wife,” Spencer whispered, pecking the crown of your head before going to stand across you, metal bars on either side of the wheelchair you carefully stood from.

It was your twenty third day of physical therapy, and boy was it hell. Your entire bottom half hurt, feeling as if fire consumed your muscles as you shakily got used to being on your feet again. Your back hurt the worst, though. You tried to play it off the best you could, but when the shooting pain took hold of the sensitive nerves of your spine, you couldn’t do more than screw your eyes shut andprace your head for the inevitable fall.

It had been getting better, you thought. Taking your first six steps was getting easier. Getting out of the pool was easier, and you could stand up without yelping in pain. But still, as you pushed through eveey PT session, you couldn’t help but feel disgusted at yourself for not being able to do basic human activities.

Spencer really atuck to his vows, remaining steadfast at your side through everything. He was at your every beck and call, updating you on your coworkers and all the other people you’d grown close to as a welder and as a woman. Spence took pride being able to help you, being your rock as you always are for him.

Aaron was actively prosecuting the company that produced the faulty equipment. As requested by Spencer, Aaron didn’t tell you much. It was better in both of their minds that you focused on recovery and not having Hotch dumb down the details of legal stuff- not that you were dumb, you just weren’t as educated as Spencer and Aaron. Obviously.

Penelope made a point to bring you food every other day. With her she brought a big hug, warm smile, and hot tea. You listened closely to the gossip she had to share, grateful that she didn’t try overly hard to comfort you- she was just like a sister in that way.

Emily stopped by when she could, but understandably had other plans for her time off; i.e.: napping. When she came Emily brought a book or two she had seen and thought of you about or a magazine.

J.J. tried as hard as Penny did, bringing Henry and Will whenever possible. You appreciated the family, feeling fully accepted as J.J.’s soul sister, despite only knowing Spencer’s coworkers for almost a year. Henry had clicked with you right away and told you stories as he snuggled up to you in the hospital bed. When he fell asleep, Will and J would make conversation with you.

Derek had dinner with you and Spencer every weekend. He brought something new every time and always shut sown your protests at how expensive it must have been, aspecially since the three of you combined could eat $300 worth of food- having fast metabolism and being an athletic person was worth bragging about while shoving half pound birgers into your mouth. Despite just the good food, Derek made sure to talk with just you, offering a deep conversation or a lightheard bickering session, letting you know you weren’t alone.

Rossi visited every time he had time. David had grown fond of you and your personality. You were a hardworking, sincere, and (painfully) honest person. All admirable traits, Rossi thought. He always brought flowers, chocolate, and a milkshake/smoothie for you. Though his visits were shorter in comparison to Derek’s or Penny’s, David visited more frequently. He filled you in on details of the lawsuit Aaron was working on, staff drama, and other fatherly conversation.

Slowly, the months passed.

60 more days passed before the hospital finally brought up your discharge.

Through all that time you had managed to re-gain the ability to walk, run, swim 2 laps uninterrupted, and were improving daily.

You were proud of your progress, but especially thankful of all the people that had stood by your side the entire way. Your eyes burned just thinking about the love Spencer’s family your family had for you.

When one of the nurses you had grown close to finally brought up your discharge, you threw your arms around her and practically cried tears of joy. Spencer kept his composure better, but you could see the shine in his eyes as he discussed the details as you pulled yourseld away from the nurse.

The team was on a case when you reported back to them, but J.J. and Derek immediately set up a quick video call to voice their happiness. Even Aaron stepped in frame, a warm smile on his face as he spoke of how happy he was for you. David showed up right at the end. You swear you saw a tear roll down his cheek as he told you how proud he was of you, how strong you are, and how thankful he is that you’re okay.

Beside you, Spencer ran his hands through your hair with a shaking hand. He, too, cried.

It was two weeks later when you shoved your bags in the back of your truck (you insisted it be the vehicle Spencer drove home) and left the hospital.

“I love you Spencer Walter Reid.”

The two of you stood, leaning against each other, in front of your home. The feeling of Spencer’s warm body under your touch made you feel alive- electric, even. You felt like you could do anything as you carried your own bags into your own home with your own husband.

With Spencer by your side, you were finally learning how to live again.

#female reader #x female reader #jules writes 📓🖊 #x reader #fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #dr spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid criminal minds #bau team #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader #welder!reader #x welder!reader #spencer reid x welder!reader #hotch #rossi #bau #spencer reid #doctor spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds angst #criminal minds imagine

[faerygrant]

having a family with carmy thoughts and headcanons pt.1

summary: engagement, wedding, honeymoon, baby!

౨ৎ Carmen doesn’t propose until 5 years into the relationship! Which although felt like a longtime ended up being worth it, as he had been through extensive therapy and had learned to deal with his anxiety and family traumas.

౨ৎ The wedding is simple and spontaneous, early morning, family heirloom rings at the courthouse. With Nat and Pete being the witnesses. Carmen’s on edge most of that morning until Pete talks him down, which you’re thankful for.

౨ৎ The reception likewise is a simple affair held in Nat and Pete’s spacious backyard. Bright fairy lights are strewn about the garden, long tables laid out for family, friends and staff from the bear. You’d insisted on having a champagne tower, which Carmy had kindly instructed Richie and Fak to put together, to your surprise it had gone well, leaving guests in awe.

౨ৎ The cake was Millefeuille, a classic for Italian weddings, it was the only thing that Carmen had explicitly asked for during the wedding prep and you were happy to oblige. The catering was courtesy of Sydney and Tina and by the looks of the satisfied guests it was a hit. Carmen’s family sat across one large table, so did your family and friends, meanwhile the staff of the Bear had their own.

౨ৎ After your first dance, which Carmen had been apprehensive about from the beginning had actually gone well, the two of you made your way over to greet the guests. The staff were all smiles as they conversate amongst each other, Richie cracking jokes with them as he went back and forth between their table and the family one, Tina and Sydney chatting lightly and Fak and Ebra rating the desserts for Marcus, who was kind enough to prepare an array of treats for the occasion.

౨ৎ By the end of the night you’d ended up in Sydney’s arms, blackout drunk, while Carmen who didn’t drink much, save for a few flutes of champagne, bid the guests goodbye on your behalf. You didn’t remember much except Sugar and Syd helping you out of your dress and getting your settled into the car with Carmy.

౨ৎ The honeymoon is short but memorable, due to yours and Carmen’s hectic work schedules. Spent in the South of France, the two of you bond over food, wine and ofcourse the art. It’s so calming for you to see him so at ease, not on edge and genuinely relaxed, being surrounded by the two things he loved most, food and art, he really was in his element.

౨ৎ The conversation of kids is never brought up, but you see the longing glances Carmen gives his niece and nephew, or the genuine smiles he gives when Richie shows him one of Eva’s many accomplishments. Giving you hope, that maybe someday he’d be open to having some of his own.

౨ৎ Your world is turned upside down when during an early summer morning you’re awoken by violent fits of illness. Throwing up into the toilet bowl while experiencing the most painful acid reflux in your life. You’re tired and upset and Carmen’s freaking out, opting to call in for the day incase you’d come down with a bug, as to not get the rest of the staff sick. When the sickness persists however and Carmen doesn’t seem to be getting sick, he goes back to work and that’s when you notice something strange.

౨ৎ A little red punctuation mark had been missing for a month now and that’s when you knew you’d have to take a test, for better or for worse. So once Carmy had left for the restaurant you’d scrambled to CVS for the test and taken it in the bathroom because you couldn’t wait for the results.

౨ৎ Explaining that you were 3+ weeks pregnant to your husband with commitment issues, anxiety, ptsd and familial trauma was nerve wracking. You didn’t know how to do it, when to do it and honestly you’d contemplated just placing the test on his side table and hiding in the attic of your new home, but alas you couldn’t.

౨ৎ Carmen’s day off was the day you’d deicided to come clean, he could tell you were still feeling well but thankfully hadn’t put two and two together. So early in the morning after making him breakfast you’d sat him down and cut to the chase. It’s safe to say that tears were shed, good and bad and after guiding him through breathing exercises his therapist had taught the both of you, you were able to get him to calm down.

౨ৎ He admitted that he was scared and you were so glad he was able to be so vulnerable with you, in sharing his fears and doubts. You assured him, held each other and made promises you’d hope the other could keep. As the months of your pregnancy passed you saw growth in Carmy, he lit up at the ultrasounds, cried from joy during the first scan, went above and beyond for your private gender reveal and was so hands on when it came to nursery duty.

౨ৎ Valentina Berzatto’s arrival took place during the early hours of the 14th of February, Valentine’s Day. Hence the name Valentina. (Also to stick to his Italian roots) you were exhausted, carmen was in tears as he laid his daughter against his bare chest as you watched the two of them, feeling so thankful for your family.

౨ৎ Your parents had come in about the same time as Sugar, Pete and their kids, all of whom were all smiles carrying with them; gifts and flowers in tow. The cousins were so excited to meet the baby, squealing and giggling as their parents assisted them in taking turns to hold her. Your parents were equally as excited, snapping photos of the ordeal, congratulating both you and Carmy.

౨ৎ Valentina hadn’t met the staff of the bear till her 3rd day on earth, as the two of you had been so exhausted and all you both seemed to do was sleep. So Carmy had offered for his staff to come visit the hospital around afternoon before the two of you fell asleep. Tina was the first to come say hi, happily taking her namesake into her arms and cooing in delight. Before she had passed the baby back to Carmen to fuss over you and ensure you were feeling okay. Sydney was as expected, frightened but excited for the both of you, she was scared to hold Val at first, but Carmen insisted she wouldn’t harm her so she did, smiling at you when your baby had opened her eyes and stretched while in Syds arms.

౨ৎ The boys from the bear were as expected, obnoxious in their introduction to Valentina. Richie and Fak insisted on showing up in suits to make a good first impression on their “niece” to which Carmy had just rolled his eyes and smiled. Richie however was dead serious and you were pretty sure you’d seen a stray tear fall from his eyes, when he first held the baby (which he was quick to cover up). You smiled in joy however when you witnessed him take Carmy aside, hugging him tightly and letting him know that Mikey would’ve been “fuckin’ proud.”

౨ৎ The first few months of parenthood aren’t easy on the two of you, at all. Carmen is caught up at work, while you’re left with Valentina for hours on end most days. Carmen tries, he really does, to keep you happy, taken care of and make you feel supported but he gets consumed by his work too often. The fourth month in particular is hardest on you, Val suffers bouts of colic daily, Carmen is nonstop at the bear and getting his attention is near impossible and you’re just utterly exhausted. That’s when Carmen and Nat find you curled up in a ball beside Val’s bassinet one day after work. You’re distraught, disheveled and inconsolable, while your daughter sleeps soundly.

౨ৎ Carmen genuinely feels like he’d failed in life, the sight had him so fucking scared that he thought you would do something tragic. He immediately takes time off work, spending most his mornings and nights feeding, burping and soothing your baby. He stays by your side throughout the day, ensuring you’ve eaten, bathed and had some alone time away from the baby. After the heartbreaking scene from that evening, Nat had sat him down after he’d had a full blown panic attack and warned him of the consequences of postpartum, and gave him tips on ways he support you through it.

౨ৎ As Valentina approached ten months it was clear to the both of you that your girl had quite the personality. The two of you spent most of your days together, seeing daddy off to work in the early mornings before a feed, followed by a diaper change. Tummy time was Val’s favourite and you always snapped photos of her gummy smile to send to her dad. Nap time was your personal favourite due to the few hours of baby free peace you got, it was made even better when Carmen’s lunch would fall under this time, giving the two of you some time to be together.

౨ৎ Both you and Carmen did bath time together, Valentina splashing around happily as the two of you happily allowed her to soak you, every time. After lots of water, bubbles and smooches, you have Carmen sit in and quietly read to your girl as you feed her before bed in her cozy rocking chair, courtesy of Donna (one of many things she’d spontaneously brought over for the baby during a fit of hysteria)

let me know if you’d like a part 2!

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy x reader #the bear fic #reader x carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto fic

[theelastword]

*SPOILERS AHEAD*

So I’ve been seeing a lot of people talk about how big of a mistake Aziraphale made in the finale and how badly they feel for Crowley (instead of feeling bad for BOTH of them). And honestly? I don’t understand the perspective that Crowley getting his heart broken in episode 6 has to mean that Aziraphale was totally naive and wrong and that it’ll take Crowley a lot of time to forgive him, or that Aziraphale’s ending in season 2 wasn’t just as heartbreaking as Crowley’s.

Think about everything we know about Aziraphale, who has never once been power-hungry and— following season 1— no longer cares what Heaven thinks (he even told the Metratron that he didn’t want to go back to Heaven when first approached). Aziraphale only left because he sees angels like Muriel, who definitively have good in them despite everything, or even Gabriel who somehow figured out how to fall in love and find something that mattered more to him than the supposed ‘morality’ of Heaven. Aziraphale sees that spark, that potential of Heaven to be turned into what it should have always been, and he thinks that he can do it because he’s seen proof of angels who can get away from Heaven’s influence, a list that includes himself.

Not to mention THAT look he gave Metatron after he brought up the Second Coming, a look that (at least from where I’m sitting) was a definite steeling of nerves and his own way of saying “Okay, time to take this thing down from the inside”. He was NOT saying that Crowley should reform himself for Heaven, or even that they should go back because he missed Heaven. He was asking Crowley to go with him because he loves him and wants him by his side— and because he knows that Crowley has experience in being there for angels who slowly deviate from Heaven.

Aziraphale wants what he’s always wanted— to keep helping everyone he possibly can, without stopping to do what he really wants and just stay in his beloved bookshop with the love of his life. Because he never prioritizes what it is he wants when he could be helping others instead. That’s just who he is, which is what makes him so selfless and wonderful but also so sad in that he never just…lets himself be happy. And the Crowley that we all know would never hate or have lingering fury toward him for that. What Aziraphale is doing, although heartbreaking to people like me who just want the Husbands to have their little cottage in the South Downs, is actually really brave, AND just as worthy of the sympathy and heartbreak that many fans are feeling for Crowley.

EDIT: Also, as sad/problematic it may be to abandon your life and partner, it’s just as problematic to turn a blind eye to the oppression and injustice of Heaven that, by all means, you have the ability and voice to try to do something about in pursuit of prioritizing what you want. So if we’re going to be mad at Aziraphale, we have to be mad at Crowley, too (and I’ll be disappointed if hypothetical-season-3 paints the narrative that Aziraphale is the only one in the wrong here). Personally, I’m all for not being mad at anybody. I completely understand both of their choices, and I just want them to reconcile and be compassionate to what the other is going through.

#aziraphale i am going to wrap you in a blanket #leave my angel ALONE #good omens 2 #good omens #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #crowley #gabriel #aziraphale x crowley #gabriel x beelzebub #ineffable beurocracy #maggie x nina #metatron #good omens season three #good omens season two #good omens s2 #good omens s2 ending #good omens spoilers #good omens ending #good omens finale #2.06 #kin #aziraphale get behind me

[cultofdixon]

They need me more

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • It’s the start of a new chapter, with the communities and with you and Daryl. But some people thought you not pulling your weight matters more than the health of yourself and your baby • ANGST/SFW • TW: Pregnancy / Over-Exhaustion

Requested by: Anon

It was late at night when Daryl drove home to Alexandria after being at the Sanctuary for a week. Ever since the news, he’s agreed to watching that shithole every other week instead of living there entirely.

Because he knows she would want to be there with him and her safety matters more. So they compromised.

As the archer did his best to be quiet as he enters the house, it didn’t matter because his wife was in the kitchen making tea. Daryl sets his crossbow and bag down by the door before walking over to her, carefully wrapping his arms around her from behind.

“Should be in bed”

“Couldn’t sleep.” Y/N smiles warmly in the dim lighting as she turns the stove off after hearing the whistle. “Knew my man would be coming home in the morning. Didn’t think at this hour but the excitement kept more than just me up” she was about to grab the tea pot when Daryl pulled away from her quick enough to do it for her. “So since you are home you’re not going to let me lift a finger? Seriously?”

“Seriously. Especially somethin’ this hot” Daryl scoffs pouring her a cup as she drops her teabag in while he got himself a cup ready. “You should be in bed”

“Tell your daughter to stop kicking me in the ribs then. She just knew you’d be back soon” She smiles listening to her husband’s amused chuckle watching him set the tea pot back on the stove using his now free hand to rest on her belly. “We missed you”

“Mm. I missed y’all more” Daryl smiles moving his hand to follow her kicks until they stopped as he kisses his partner before taking her cup. “We can drink these in bed”

“Read my mind”

The morning came and Y/N stretched out a bit groaning to herself when she rolled onto her back. She felt the empty space beside her, frowning when she felt no partner beside her. As she finally got up and out of bed after a bit of struggle, she found the note on her nightstand saying that he was helping Rick with fence repair in the south side and that he’d be home later.

“That man never rests” Y/N laughs lightly to such before getting ready for the day.

She’s been spending most of the morning on the porch swing reading one of the two baby books Maggie has gifted her with her tea. Expecting it to simply be that until she felt the need to move or Daryl would come home.

Instead a newer Alexandrian named Evan walked passed carrying one of the many boxes for the pantry after their trade in from Oceanside. He glances over to Y/N seeing that she was doing nothing, to his standards, and approached.

“Hey, Y/N right?”

Y/N quickly looks up from her book, nodding with a smile.

“You think you can do inventory for the pantry? Rick wants us to keep numbers down and I’ve got a lot to unpack from the truck”

“Oh, but I was actually—“

“Please—-What’s more important than helping your community?”

My baby? Y/N thought for a moment as his words stung for a moment which lead to her questioning such instead of being clear to herself. “Okay. Just let me grab my jacket”

A couple hours went by and Daryl returned home to no one. It was still light out so he wouldn’t be too surprised if she took a walk around the community but he still worried. He decided to see if the pantry had any peanut butter from what her cravings were last since they didn’t have any.

To his surprise, Y/N was sitting on a stool writing down the numbers of everything she had put away.

“What are you doing, sunshine?” Daryl whispers bringing himself behind her leaning over to see the notebook for the pantry records. “You should be home”

“This needed to be done”

“There’s plenty of other people that could’ve done that. Who asked you to do this?”

“It doesn’t matter if all I did was sit and count everything. I didn’t move very much…don’t you worry now” Y/N laughs softly even if Daryl gained a suspicion that she was hiding something, which she was but her feelings were the ones she kept to herself mostly in the moment.

Daryl frowns wishing she would tell him more, but she was only going to be stubborn. So the man pulled up a stool beside her and helped her with the remaining numbers…relaxing when she leaned against him.

“Rick”

“Daryl? The hell you doing over here this early?” Rick questions as he sets Judith down so she could run to Daryl hugging his leg until the man picked her up. “Is Y/N up or somethin’?”

“No, but I’m curious about somethin’ regarding my wife” Daryl sighs setting Judith on the counter while Rick hands her her water cup. “She’s been exhausted lately”

“Like most pregnant people?”

“Nah like. She can’t get up exhausted and she ain’t even that far into the 3rd trimester”

“Well, since I can guess where this might be going? I only ask her to watch Judith if Michonne and I have somethin’ to do together. I don’t know who else would ask her since most of the newbies know you and are afraid of you” Rick shrugs being handed his daughter’s cup from her. “If she’s not telling you it’s because of what somebody said and what her mind did with such”

Daryl frowns not knowing exactly what he has to do to get her to talk to him. He watches Judith and Rick interact for a moment, how caring the man was to his daughter so he thought to go in that direction.

The archer came home in the early afternoon after setting up snares in a few spots around Alexandria, heading upstairs to find his wife sitting up in bed exhausted even after a nap.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, she just kicked me really hard is all…” Y/N sighs wiping away the stray tear from such as Daryl brought himself to sit with her resting his hand on her belly. “I thought you’d be out a little longer”

“The snares were easy to put up” He states watching her gaze focus on his hand rubbing circles on her swollen belly. “Y/N, I know you’re over-working yourself”

“I’m not?” Lie

“Sweetheart…You’re doin’ somethin’ instead of taking it easy”

“What else am I supposed to do? You won’t let me work on the nursery and I can get restless in here sometimes”

“Yea can do shit yeah. But I’m talkin’ all the repairing and big change type shit happening in the community. Everyone knows your pregnant and that you should be takin’ it easy”

“Daryl…”

“Y/N. It’s your body and in the end, do whatever yea want. But that’s my baby too and I care about the both of you a fuckton. If somebody is making yea feel bad and tryin’ to get yea to do all these extra tasks, come and get me. I’ll tear the bitch a new one”

“Can’t have you picking fights, Dar” Y/N laughs a little resting her hand over his as her expression falls once more. “You’ll be around tomorrow right?”

“Want me to ditch my run and spend time with yea? Doubt anybody would notice”

“Carol would! And one of us should at least be useful around here”

Daryl rolls his eyes a second, keeping his hand on her belly worrying slightly to what might happen within the walls while he’s gone.

“Why me?”

“Because I trust yea to radio me”

“And not Rick or Michonne or Rosita or literally anybody else?” Aaron questions walking with his friend through Alexandria the following morning. “Plus I have shit to do around here. Like securing the waterline for the gardens”

“I’m just asking yea to tell me if you see her outside our place.”

“But that could be for any reason”

“If she looks like she’s doin’ something she shouldn’t. Then radio me” Daryl scoffs. “I don’t want her overworking herself. Especially given how hot it is”

“Okay that I can do, but still. Only if I see her” Aaron sternly states before going to get started on his work while Daryl steps outside the gates to be greeted with Carol and Jerry.

He did exactly what was asked of him. Even if for the most part he’s caught glimpses of Y/N, but she would mainly talk to people or walk around. Nothing too crazy. She even spent time with him at least once during the time Daryl was gone, but only for a few minutes. Aaron asked her if she had to do anything and she said no, but when he went to check on her after checking on his daughter she looked even more exhausted since the last time he saw her.

“Daryl?”

Daryl frowns pulling off to the side a moment on his bike to answer the static as Carol noticed him pull off before doing the same in the car they’ve got. “What happened?”

“She wanted me to radio you.”

“…You got caught didn’t you?”

“Im sorry! I saw her pace from the corner of my eye or at least what looked like it when I was helping Eugene solder some pipes. So I went to check on her and she smacked me! Not hard but enough to get me to tell her why I’ve been having my eye on her all day”

Daryl sighs pinching the bridge of his nose as he didn’t know how to respond to such besides apologize. He put his radio back on his belt about to get his bike started against when Carol honked for his attention.

“We don’t need an escort back home”

“I’d feel better knowing y’all got back safe”

“We’ll radio you then! Or whoever gets the radio after you return” Jerry reassures with Carol nodding in agreement.

With that they split their ways as Daryl watches the gates open the second he got close, making it a clear shot to go back to their place. Then he noticed Y/N sat on the porch steps looking as if she was going to pass out. It didn’t get better when he got off his bike approaching her, noticing how red she was and the discomfort written on her expression.

“Y/N—-“

“I’m so exhausted” She sobbed holding her belly as Daryl crouched in front of her gently wiping away the tears. “I’ve been running around all day and Aaron was fucking watching me and I would’ve just stayed inside if this stupid guy’s words didn’t get to me”

“What? Who said what—“ Daryl pulled out of the conversation with his wife to hear the foot steps approaching and her name being called out.

“I’ve got another thing for yea to—-“ Evan stops talking when he locked eyes with Daryl and turned to see Y/N’s situation.

Oh he fucked up

“You’ve been asking my goddamn wife to do all these goddamn tasks and chores JUST SO YOU WOULDNT HAVE TO DO’EM?!” Daryl snaps as he rose to his feet getting up in the poor guy’s face. He guessed the reason, since Y/N thought he was just guilting her to do work around the place since she lives her to. But what Daryl said was the real reason. He didn’t want to do his work and saw an opportunity. Granted…he picked the wrong person.

“I-I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—“

“You’re right. You shouldn’t fucking have” Daryl grabbed the guy by the collar about to throw him with the amount of anger building in him.

“Dar…stop”

“WHY DID YEA DO IT?!” He snaps again as he heard his name called out once more but it was followed with a small gasp. The archer practically tossed the guy onto his ass before changing his demeanor and checking his wife noticing the tears fall more. “Come on, I’m takin’ yea to Siddiq whether you like it or not”

Bed rest. Fucking bed rest. Y/N was put on it in hopes her stress will go down to help her blood pressure and to get much needed fluids. Since she didn’t think twice about her needs when her mind was against her.

Once she got comfortable, Daryl opened the windows once it was late so the cool night air could come through. He also filled her canteen whenever she emptied it, but the most recent time he came back to their bedroom with a filled bottle he noticed her tearing up and avoiding eye contact.

“Sunshine, what’s wrong?” He asks in almost a whisper bringing himself to her side kneeling beside it. “Is it the baby? Are you in pain?”

“No…I’m just. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry” She pouts wiping away her tears, feeling his hand gently cup her cheek as his thumb wipes away the tears. “I could’ve really ruined things…the baby, she could’ve—-“

“Stop. You stopped and you’re relaxing. Taking it easy from now on”

“Yeah, but forced bed rest to start…and I will be alone for most of it anyway”

“The fuck that’s supposed to mean?” Daryl scoffs with a half smile seeing the confusion grow on her face as he brought his hand to take hers. “If yea think I’m leavin’ yea after this shit. Then you’re wrong”

“You…You’re gonna…but what about—-“

“Fuck the Sanctuary. Rick can find somebody else” The archer states squeezing her hand gently. “My family needs me”

#cultofdixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction

[boiohboii]

The trophy boyfriend pt3.

The one where the rumors turn into reality

People thought they lost Carlos to a different type of WAG

or

In which f1 fans are introduced to a South Korean chaebol and now they want to fight her rumored boyfriend for her love and attention.... but is he even her actual boyfriend?

PART 2

Liked by KimJeonwoo, carlossainz55, SuaveStore and 918,251 others

Danielricciardo: hello everyone, I know this is not the way I usually post things, but I want to do that for her.

Her being the love of my life: Kim YN. I have met you 6 years ago, you had just graduated and were excited to visit your friend, however I fell behind you trying to get your attention, just a minute to have your phone number, but alas you heard the thud turned around, looked me in the eye, nodded and then left. I wanted to cry that day, not because of embarrassment, no, because I had let an angel just walk away from me. I spent years with your face in mind, looking everywhere I go in hopes of finding you again, but it was you who found me. The only difference this time is that I knew you were my friend's friend. I knew your name, and I knew you were way out of league- you still are and always will be.

I remember your blinking eyes at my proposal of a date, and you just gave me that precious smile of yours while writing your number on my arm. I had tried to think so hard of how to impress you, impress a woman who had everything at her feet, you could always just pick and choose whatever you want whenever you want.

That date was simple, just us in your restaurant and no one else. At first I had thought it was for your privacy, but 2 years down the line I had asked you about that night, and I will always remember your words: "I do not care if anyone knew, yes I value my privacy, but I valued getting to know you more, you are much more important to me" and since that day I swore that I would not drag you into my world- we are, after all, from 2 very different worlds- but as we now approach our 5th year together, I can not help but boast about you for once. Boast about the fact that you had taken me as your fiance and the man you will call your husband.

I swear that till the day I die I will cherish you. I will respect, love and care for you for the rest of my life. I may be a race driver, but I will, first and foremost, always be yours.

This is for every fan of mine, thank you for being by my side and thank you for everything throughout the years, to reassure you I will not be retiring but my priorities have shifted a bit. I am and will always be grateful for the wonderful opportunity I have been granted and I will keep working hard for you and for my team. Please do not try to know where Y/N is or what she is doing, she is a private person and I hope all of you understand that. I don't want her to regret being with me, so please leave her alone. I will not be releasing anymore pictures of her on either of my accounts as we have been doing for the past 4 years, don't try to send a follow request on her account either, she will not mistakenly accept- she is one of the smartest people alive.

Thank you Kim Y/N for the lovely moments and the breathtaking years. I can only dream of the many more dazzling years to come with you by my side, darling.

~comments on this post have been disabled~

{Taglist: @laneyspaulding19 }

NEXT

#f1 instagram au #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 social media au #f1 x y/n #f1 smau #f1 #daniel riccardo x reader #daniel ricciardo smau #daniel ricciardo social media au #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo x reader

[silentcryracha]

Hey 🌷 so I was absolutely smitten over the Hyunjin Baby fever series and would like to request some headcanons for all skz as new dads 😩

Hi love <3 Thank you so much for reading! Apparently a lot of people got a soft spot for that 'series', and it makes me so happy lol

Of course, dad! skz coming right up!

warnings: afab reader, term wife is used, mention of pregnancy, mention of pain and giving birth (no graphic/descriptions), the gender of the babies is never specified

word count: 3.5k

masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Chan - From the exact moment he knew you were pregnant you became his number one priority. I mean, you already were, but things could always go south in a marriage/relationship. But he would never, ever, let things go 'south' with his kid. Absolutely not.

He was attentive and very helpful thought the whole thing, including the actual birth, to which I'm sure he would've been in the room for. He'd 100% cry as soon as he holds his baby. He probably wouldn't even try to hold in the sobs as he leans down gently to kiss your forehead, showering you with praises and love.

'You did so well, my love, you're so strong' 'I love you so much, you know it right? You were so brave, my baby' . Would also thank you for giving him such a precious gift any chance he gets.

I feel like he'd take a hiatus for a while. Of course he would've done it anyway to be at home with you and help you, but he also wanted to be present as much as possible.

I feel like while he basically needs someone to drag him away from his work generally, in this case the decision would be the easiest of his life. He could almost be scared to get sucked in his overworking and not pay enough attention to you and his child, so he'd just take both a physical and mental hiatus.

But, I do think that he would feel very inspired especially lyrically, and maybe keep tabs and notes of inspiration that he would use later on. He'd be so inspired by this new kind of love that he's feeling.

Would absolutely be the perfect dad and husband. Taking turns both day and night to change diapers, feeding, bathing, dressing, playing with the baby and so on. I can't help but imagine him constantly having to cuddle his baby :(

He would pick them up, lulling them into his arms to make them stop crying or to sleep. He'd love to just hold them and walk them around showing them new things, like looking out of the window, or some mundane action like preparing their own milk/food. That's his new best friend for sure.

He would also love, safely, to let the child either rest or play on your shared bed, with their mom and dad at each of their side to watch over them :(

He'd sing to them, play the guitar and piano for them, and generally would try so bad to get the baby to enjoy/recognize his own music and voice.

The members would become instantly the privileged uncles. And I'm pretty sure that at least two of them would be named the kid's godparents. My bets would be on Minho and Changbin. Maybe Felix.

Minho - Minho starts behaving like a father way before the baby is born. Because now, his job would be to baby you. He'd make sure that you rest as much as possible, but also try to make activities that would help you physically. Absolutely he's the one that signs you up for prenatal classes, and would make sure to not miss a single one.

He's the kind of man that would rebuild his whole life and routine just to serve you. He'd become your personal driver, shopper, cook, exercise buddy, cuddler and motivational speaker. You need something? Just say it and he'll make it happen.

Now, of course he'd be in the delivery room. Of course. Because I also would imagine that you'd feel lost without him at your side after all those months he spent with you and taking care of you. He would be freaking out inside but he'd keep it cool for you, trying to help you breathe properly, checking in with the medics to make sure that everything was going smoothly, and encouraging you a lot.

'Okay kitten, you heard the doc, right? It's 7 centimeters of dilatation, so you just gotta hang in there for a bit more.' 'I know it hurts my darling, I'm so sorry, if I could take all your pain I would'

When the time comes he'd hold your hand, or better, he'd let you squeeze it, without saying 'ah'. He'd also peek once in a while to check the situation, out of concern and curiosity, which made you scold him for embarrassing you. But he'd say that it's nothing he hasn't seen before or something like that lol

Lee Minho never cries. But not even he could resist getting chocked up when he first heard his baby's cries. He watched quietly as the nurses brought it to your chest, caressing your hair gently and kissing your head and temple while he quietly praised you. 'You did so well, kitten' 'You're the strongest person I know, I love you so much'

The silent tears that he kept hidden at the beginning, couldn't be saved anymore the first time that he actually held his baby in his arms. You knew better than tease him in such a vulnerable situation, and you didn't even want to. You just watched quietly with a tired smile as he had his own little moment with his newborn baby.

He'd also be the perfect husband/dad. Everything was split 50/50 and even 70/30 for all he cared. He was always down to do whatever needed to be done, both around the house or with the baby itself.

Minho is not someone who usually expresses his feelings openly, which is why I feel like small moments of bonding with just him and his baby would be fundamental for him. He'd sing to them, play with them, take some walks with that chest carrier for babies. Yes, he'd love to bring them with him on his fishing, camping adventures. He'd bring them to the beach, around the city and so on.

Of course he'd love to spend time together as a family, especially knowing that you wouldn't have judged him for handling things as he saw fit. You'd organize movie nights, picnics, aquarium dates and so on, as a little family.

Changbin - The sweetest husband and daddy. So emotional too. We all know Binnie is such a sweet man and isn't afraid of showing this softer side, but he doesn't go as far as crying. Seeing Changbin cry isn't an easy occurrence, but you bet this man WILL be bawling his eyes out in the most important moments of his life.

From the time in which you confessed that you were expecting, to the first ultrasound scan, to the first time he noticed your belly showing, the first time he felt the baby kick. It was like putting down small green flags at each step.

His number one priority was your and his baby's health. He'd make sure that you're as comfortable and peaceful as possible during the pregnancy, and wouldn't hold back on expenses either. You'd have the best food, best maternity clothes, best doctors, baby supplies and essentials and so on.

He'd talk to your belly all the time. Sing to it, rap to it. You'd swear that the baby's first word out of the womb would be the whole Thunderous intro mentioning his name. Binnie would be obsessed with the idea of teaching them to rap, for real.

He's the type that would act all brave big and strong but would lowkey faint in the delivery room just from the though of pain. Yours, of course. Of course he'd be there to hold your hand, giving you kisses on the head and caressing your hair, offering words of comfort and encouragement but God forbid if he even as much gazed south to your belly.

Absolutely bawled shamelessly when he heard the first cry, and was so so gentle while holding them for the first time :( He was lowkey afraid of hurting them because his baby is SO tiny :( He'd keep repeating it like a mantra, ' They're so small, how can they be this small?' :')

Changbin wouldn't let you lift a finger, for anything that didn't specifically require your attention, like breastfeeding for example. That would be his way to bond with the baby too. Quality time with daddy Binnie since the start aw :(

He'd love to show his baby off. Like literally. 'They got their looks from us, that's why they're stunning' 'This Dolce & Gabbana jacket would look so cool with the Celine cap and the Gucci shoes wouldn't it?' 'Did you see how they looked at me? They already understand so much, my little genious' . Would absolutely be his mini me, doesn't matter if it's male or female.

Hyunjin - As soon as he heard the news, he was over the moon. Truly. And even more because I imagine that you and him were actually trying for one. He seems like the person who likes to do things in steps, or 'traditionally' if you will. So of course there was the dating, then marriage and then babies.

I also don't feel like he'd settle down too early or when he's still got an active and busy schedule like the one of a young idol. I imagine him still working but being comfortable enough to take some time off to focus on his family.

I feel like he'd take care of you well during the pregnancy, but aside from that his priority would be creating as much memories as possible, hopefully to show your children one day. He's the type of husband who would organize maternity photoshoots, both for you as a solo and with his 'little family', or paint on your belly, take SO many candid pictures.

He'd love to make you as relaxed as possible. He'd run you baths with bubbles and oils and candles, cook whatever you wanted for you, massage you when you were sore, spread creams and oils on your belly to keep the skin hydrated and soft. He'd pamper you, okay? You were about to give him the best gift of his life, you were about to make him a father. He worshipped you.

In the delivery room he'd definitely have to distract himself to not get too anxious, to be strong for you. Otherwise if he actually let any of the ugly and painful reality of it sink in his mind he would've not managed to be calm, and therefore he would've made you anxious too. He did feel like throwing up a few times from the anxiety of hearing you in pain, the doctors talking, and overall the ugly situation.

So instead he just focused on you, holding your hands, kissing them, kissing everywhere he could reach and would be comfortable to you. He'd also repeat til nausea how much he loved you, how strong you are, how amazing and magical you are, how you're going to be the best mother, and how lucky he was to be by your side.

He'd absolutely get ten times more relieved as soon as he hears the cries, because the worst part is over. But would actually get emotional only when you manage to have an intimate moment within you three. He'd fall in love instantly, feeling such a strong sense of responsibility and affection that he hasn't felt before. He would also bond with the baby by spending quality time with them, walking them around, taking care of them, playing instruments and singing for them. He'd absolutely encourage them to draw and paint, and would save every single Picasso style artwork (lol).

Jisung - Han is an anxious person who loves a lot. Which of course will influence his mood and behavior in such a situation. Regardless of the type of relationship that you have, married or not, for how long etc... when you tell him you're pregnant he'd almost have a heart attack. There's no other way to say it to be honest. He could be (and probably would) the happiest man on earth but could as quickly let his brain overthink, killing a little of his enthusiasm.

Mainly because he'd start questioning himself. 'Will I be a good father?' 'Am I mature enough?' 'Will I be able to care for them as best as I can?' and stuff like that. You'd eventually calm him down, so he'd just focus on starting to 'practice' by taking care of you. Whatever you need, you have it.

For the love of God don't let one of those hormonal crisis go around him or he'll just panic. You keep telling him that you can't quite control it and that he didn't do anything wrong but for some reason he'd just blame himself regardless and feel guilty. But he would truly be the best at taking care of you, and you'd make sure to remind him and thank him for it every chance you get, because he need to hear it.

In the delivery room, he's the kind of man who gaslighted himself on being mentally prepared but at your first hiss of pain he feels his legs go jelly. You'd probably have to calm him down and tell him to focus on you because one of y'all needs to make it out alive anyway lol. So he tried really hard, to the cost of going on autopilot and dissociate for the whole thing, but he pulls through.

Would absolutely need to sit down when he finally has the confirmation that both you and the baby are fine, otherwise he'd fall to his knees. Then he'd calm down, telling himself that he needs to be calm and strong for his baby. 'If I'm nervous he'll feel it and cry' 'Is this shirt too rough?' 'What if I hold them wrong?'

And once again you'd have to guide him through it and reassure him. 'See? They love you already. You don't have to worry, baby. Everything will come naturally' , you'd say as Jisung hold his child in his arms gently and sheds a few tears.

After the first few experiences he'd get the hang of it so he'd be way more calm and confident. The only things that would make him panic are the 'unexpected' things. Are they hungry? In pain? Is it the air in the belly? and all that. I feel like he'd never get rid of it truly.

But he would spend as much time as he can with the baby, taking small steps. For example, he'd start by hanging out with them while they're in the cradle, then on the (protected) bed, then on a soft rug and so on. He'd love to sing and play for them, and try to get them to watch his childhood cartoons and anime so that he could grow up with his same core memories.

Felix - A ball of sunshine that was gonna have another small ball of sunshine in 9 months. Of course he was beaming at the news, getting emotional and everything. He'd be the type to organize a whole list of creative ways to tell your loved ones the news and then shamelessly film their reactions.

He'd be your source of comfort and support thought the whole duration of the pregnancy and beyond that. Felix would take such good care of you, only letting you do whatever you felt like doing, not pressuring you on maintaining routines or stress you out at all.

His social media would immediately turn into a baby fever/daddy/family type of content, and he'd probably would try out some funny or sweet things. But he'd also get a lot of useful content, about pregnancy advice, facts and scientific informations and even some practical and medical videos.

By the time it's actually the time for you to give birth he'd be really excited but also quite stressed out, mainly by seeing you in pain and worrying about the baby's health even though (probably and hopefully) the doctors assured you both multiple times that they're fine. He'd hold your hand and support you through it but I feel like he wouldn't be able to look further, may even sob a little but desperately try to hide it.

Would definitely cry in your shoulder and hug you when it's over. But then he'd have the biggest sweetest smile on his face as he holds his baby for the first time. Would spend a lot of time with them and try out all the advice he gathered in the preparation months. To him it would be super important to make sure that he creates a strong bond with them.

Definitely the type of dad to take a shit ton of pictures and post them everywhere, not to show off but genuinely to share the immense joy that his little one brought him :(. Would probably make so many posts both with you alone, thanking you for this gift that you gave him and to tell you how much he loved you, and with you, him and the baby as a happy family.

Seungmin - Would be overwhelmed. He gives off a similar vibe to Jisung I think, in the sense that he'd feel a lot of pressure on his shoulders to be the best father for his child. He'd be extremely happy (and emotional, you can't tell me that he wouldn't fold and cry at the news) but also super nervous :(

Seungmin is another one of those who'd take it as a job to basically learn everything that he can before the time comes. How to take care of a baby, of you during the pregnancy, how to be a good father in general.

Like, one day you could be just chilling and he'd go 'You know that garlic can help cure fevers?' and you'd just look at him confused, 'Okay? Why are you telling me this now?' 'I mean I imagine sooner or later the baby will catch a cold'. The baby in question literally still being in your belly lol

He'd also be really attentive and do everything around the house, no questions asked. Not that he wouldn't do them normally, but of course he wouldn't want you getting fatigued. He's not the best on the emotional side of things but he'd try really hard to support you (and himself) through it.

In the delivery room I feel like the adrenaline and extreme pressure would make him act way cooler on the outside than he would be feeling. He'd be really grounded and so good at also keeping you sane and spur you on, encouraging you. As soon as he'd hear the first cry he would be almost in shock, struggling to believe that his child was just born, but probably allow a couple of tears only in private afterwards. He'd be the type to be super formal and thank the doctors for their work lol

As a new dad Seungmin would have to learn how to let himself be vulnerable sometimes. Not because he'd a cold person, the opposite. But because he seems like the person who'd want to be strong and balanced in the eyes of other people AND for his loved ones, so you'd have to help him with it. But in general he'd be the perfect husband, super helpful and willing to do what needs to be done. He'd like to play and hold the baby a lot, probably sing him lullabies too.

Jeongin - He'd a hundred percent a green flag, change my mind. That babysitting video just showed to me how good he'd actually be and how happy he could be. Jeongin would be overjoyed at the news, mostly because he's also another one of those who looks like the type that if he had a kid, it's only because he'd be actively looking for it. Otherwise he doesn't seem the risky/irresponsible type at all.

He has experience with a younger sibling so he wouldn't be totally oblivious to how to take care of a baby, which would make him way more confident and let him enjoy his happiness more. I feel like the happiness and excitement would overshadow any self doubt. Would announce the news quite privately and probably be careful for the first months, as people usually do.

Jeongin would do so so well I feel, both during and after the pregnancy. He'd take care of you, do chores, help to take care of your body, lighten your mood if you needed it and so on. In the delivery room his job would be to reassure you and calm you down. He'd probably be sick with the adrenaline of the moment but wouldn't let it affect him on the outside.

I don't see him as the type who cries easily, but I think that he would tear up as he hold his child for the first time. He'd be all smiles and giggles constantly, holding the baby and rocking them in his arms while he sings softly to them. He's another one who'd be big on play time, but would also just genuinely enjoy taking care of them. Like giving them baths, feeding them, dressing them up, would bring him such joy.

He'd be the silly type of dad that would buy funny toys and onesies for their child but also like to play with them like little dolls to dress up. That baby would have so many unique and high fashion items and accessories, I just know.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

#silentcryracha #stray kids x reader #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #stray kids fanfic #my writing #skz fluff #stray kids hyunjin #stray kids fluff #stray kids scenarios #stray kids felix #stray kids han #stray kids minho #stray kids lee know #stray kids seungmin #stray kids changbin #stray kids in #stray kids jeongin #stray kids jisung #han jisung x reader #lee know x reader #lee minho x reader #bang chan x reader #hyunjin x reader #changbin x reader #kim seungmin x reader #yang jeongin x reader #skz changbin #skz scenarios #skz headcanons

[berryhobii]

One Margarita(pjm x reader)

Pairing: Park Jimin x black!female!reader

Warnings: established relationship, fluff, Smut(18+ but I don’t control what you consume), mentions of brunch, mentions of drinking alcoholic beverages, drunk antics, Jimin being a sweetheart, reader being a giggly and clingy drunk, reader also being a horny drunk, implied foreplay but I don’t write it out, on the side sex(reader lays on their side but Jimin doesn’t, hopefully I explained the position good enough hehe), missionary, doggy style, clit play, rough sex, drunk sex, a little dirty talk, Jimin’s stroke game is A+, both implied multiple orgasms and actual orgasms, implied oral(f receiving), choking with both hands, scratching, reader is dick drunk and Jimin is pussy drunk, reader trying to run from the dick but Jimin doesn’t allow it😆, bad TikTok references and I’m not sorry

A/N: And we’re back! Welcome back! I know I’ve been away for a while but I recently closed on a townhouse and I’ve been moving these past few weeks but I’m finally settled! It’s been crazy but now that I’m back, I’ll be doing regular postings again. I wrote this after seeing a Jimin edit with that One Margarita by That Chick Angel on TikTok. I just couldn’t not write about it. As for reader, I did describe them as brown skinned with love handles and saggy/droopy breasts because we’re out there! Not every breast is perky and that’s okay! They’re all beautiful! I also gave reader locs because I’ve been so many gorgeous black women really embracing them lately and I love that. Another thing, my requests are open for both BTS and Seventeen members. I’ve been rewatching both group’s In the Soop seasons and I’ve been having the best time. Both Yoongi and Woozi have been wrecking me lately. And I may or may not have a Rockstar!threesome fic planned with them😆😆I mean, long haired boyfriends that you can dress the same? Yes please. Anyway, enjoy this and thanks for reading

~

Jimin knew the moment he heard your silly giggles and the crash of the shoe rack that you were drunk off your ass.

This was a common occurrence on certain Sundays when you went out to brunch with your friends. You didn’t really like to drink but margaritas were your kryptonite, those frozen and fruity concoctions just did something for you. A few of those and your inhibitions were flying south for the winter.

Closing his book with a sigh, he stood to his feet to go and greet you at the door.

You were leaned over at the waist, one hand on the wall and the other trying to unlace the strings off your heels. How all of the shoes had gotten all over the floor was a mystery to him but he’d worry about that later.

“Baby.”

You turned your head, locs falling into your face and sticking to your lip gloss. A goofy smile spread across your face at the sight of your husband standing there, your vision slightly blurry from both your hair and the alcohol in your system.

Dropping your foot, you tried to stand to your feet but gravity was a bitch so you stumbled to the ground. Jimin immediately surged forward to help you.

Giggles erupted from you as you leaned into your dependable husband, your hands landing on his buff biceps. Mmm, he was so strong….

Placing your chin on his chest to lovingly gaze up at him, you wrapped your arms around his torso. “Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiii my sweet baby love muffin cake. What are….*hic*….you doing here?”

He couldn’t fight down his smile, expression full of endearment for you. God, he loved you so much. Even drunk you was adorable.

“I live here?”

Another fit of giggles. “So do I!!”

“Alright, let’s get you out of these clothes and some water.” He leaned down a little to grab your thighs and haul you up. You let out a noise as he lifted you, your arms wrapping around his neck and legs sticking straight out.

“Whoa! I am married sir.” You slurred, laying your head on his shoulder, eyelids drooping. Even while drunk and unaware, Jimin’s presence calmed you. Like your body just knew you were in safe hands and could finally relax.

He just rolled his eyes and began his walk your shared bedroom.

Gently placing you on the bed, he tried to stand but your arms locked him in your embrace. Your glossed lips left sticky kisses across his neck and jawline.

He could tell where this was going. You always got super horny after brunch. Not that he hated it, quite the contrary. Drunk sex was absolutely amazing with you—you just got so submissive and pliable. Whiny too which he secretly loved.

While he really wanted to flip you over and fuck you until you were sober, he knew he had to get you situated first.

“Baby, let me go. I have to get you out of these clothes.”

You whispered, “Please do.” Releasing him, he rolled his neck, relieving a bit of the tension from bending over in that position.

“I’m readyyyyyyy.” You opened your legs in a V shape, smacking your ankles together in an attempt to be sexy but Jimin just thought you were funny.

He walked over to your dresser to pick out something for you to wear. A muu-muu would be the easiest to slip on you in your jelly like state, he thought.

When he turned back around, he found you trying to get your pants off while your legs were still in the air.

“Let me help.” He gently said, starting to untie your heels from around your legs. You were being surprisingly docile while he did this. Probably because you were about ready to pass out.

After he got your shoes off, he grabbed both sides of your pants to pull them off your legs.

You giggled again. “Do you know how many margaritas it would take for me to open my legs?”

How could he know that? But he’d play along. “No. How many?”

You motioned for him to lean closer to you which he did. “None.”

You decided to drop your legs at this moment, revealing your panties and fat cunt to him. Your lips had all but swallowed up the fabric, juices soaking them.

He could feel his cock jump at the sight. How were you already that wet?

Focus, Jimin! Get her dressed and get her water.

Shaking his head to try and clear his thoughts of fucking you into the mattress, he reached down to undo the buttons of your blouse next, trying to ignore the bedroom eyes you were sending him as he did so. You barely helped him actually get the shirt off, your arms trying to pull him back down to kiss you again. Sliding an arm under your back, he lifted you up so that he could slip your shirt off of you. Thankfully, you weren’t wearing a bra, just boob tape holding them up. Good thing he’s watched you take it off so he knew what to do.

20 minutes later and Jimin had managed to get you into the bathroom to clean off your makeup, remove the boob tape, and get you into your muu-muu before getting you back into the bed.

Now he could give you the attention you so desperately needed.

On your side, leg thrown over his shoulder and his weight pushing down on you, his cock was stretching out your begging cunt.

The alcohol in your system was only making your pleasure feel ever more powerful, waves of buzzing euphoria flowing over your body.

“Hmmmm, yeah baby….just like thaaaaatttt…” You moaned, one of your arms wrapped around Jimin’s shoulders and hand tangled in his soft hair.

Both of his fists were on either side of you, holding himself up, hips trying to push his cock deeper and deeper into your pussy. He was weak. Weak for you. He thought he would be able to make it, maybe get you to take a nap and let you sober up a little before you had sex. But you weren’t having it. All he did was turn his back to grab your bonnet and you were pulling your panties to the side, giving him an unhindered view of your leaking folds. How could he not latch his lips around your clit and make you scream? It was impossible. You were impossible but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Now both of you were 2 orgasms in and ready to burst.

His cock was touching the deepest parts of you, the head almost touching your cervix and the veins rubbing up against your most sensitive spots. Your arousal soaked walls hugging his cock and pushing him to the brink of madness. You were like an angel sent just for him, everything about you perfect in his eyes. He was obsessed with you in the best of ways.

And god, your pussy was like his own slice of heaven.

That feeling began to build in your tummy once again, another orgasm just inches from you.

You tossed your head back against the pillows, fingers gripping Jimin’s nape to pull him closer to you. His hot breath fanned over your face, plump lips dropped open to let gasps and groans pass.

“I fucking love this cock….you’re so deep.”

“Yeah? You like this cock, baby?”

You nodded your head, eyes shut in ecstasy as you focused on your impending orgasm. Your whole body felt floaty. Jimin’s cock was scrambling your already buzzed brain, his heated skin against yours relaxing your bones even further.

Jimin ran his lips up your sweaty throat, your brown skin smelling like Thank U, Next, your favorite perfume nowadays. “Touch yourself.” He whispered against your skin.

You shakily reached down to press two fingers against your neglected nub. Your toes curled, the stimulation propelling you right to the edge.

“That’s it. Faster. Make yourself cum.” He sat up on his haunches, using his hand to push his hair back out of his face. A simple movement he did often but in this situation, it made him look ten times sexier. Sweat dripped down his bare chest, abs flexing and muscles in his arms shifting around. Fuck, you wanted to bite him.

He grabbed the leg that was over his shoulder, pressing a few kisses to your calf before pulling your hips up so that he could really start pounding into you.

The feeling of his cock bullying your walls paired with your fingers on your clit and you were about ready to ascend.

Jimin almost thought he was dreaming. You just looked so ethereal while locked in pleasure. Your glowing skin, bouncing breasts, eyes rolling and mouth dropped open to let calls of his name out. Fuck, you were breathtaking. His eyes went down to where you were connected, your cunt leaving his cock coated in a shiny sheen. You were practically dripping, your arousal dripping down between your ass cheeks and staining the sheets.

He dropped your leg to lean down over your body, hands moving to both sides of your head. You adjusted yourself to be fully on your back which allowed his cock to reach even deeper, your legs wrapping around his waist.

His strokes were long and deep, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth.

“Kiss me….please baby.” You begged, puckering your lips. He happily obliged, pressing sloppy pecks to your waiting pout. “M’gunna cummmm, cumming baby. Harder.” You were breathless, lungs struggling to pull oxygen into your body. Jimin invaded your senses—his scent, his body heat, the feeling of his affection and intimacy. You felt so good under him, in his embrace and covered by his love.

Wrapping both of his hands around your throat, he began driving his cock in and out of your dripping pussy. Your hands gripped at his arms, running your nails down the skin and leaving red streaks in its wake. Your throat burned from the scream you let out, head lifting to get a look at where he was entering you. Just the sight of his cock moving in and out, covered in your arousal and the creamy ring around the base, was enough to propel you right off the edge.

His own resolve was starting to crumble. Your pussy just felt too good. Pulling his lip between his teeth, he hissed, “shit, you feel so good…love this pussy.” He was pushing his hips harder and harder into you, the backs of your thighs starting to burn from from the constant contact.

It felt like he was shaking your thoughts loose. You weren’t drunk on mimosas anymore, now you’re drunk on your man’s dick. If you could bottle and drink this feeling, they’d have to admit you to a rehab.

Back arching, your orgasm full body absorbed you. Your vision blurred, waves of endless pleasure cascading over you and sending you straight to the King. Your hands went to his waist, digging your nails into the skin there. He hissed at the sting but it only made his cock throb.

You hadn’t even come down before Jimin was flipping your weak body over, pulling your hips up so you were in doggy style. You let out a breath now that you could breathe. His hands gripped your love handles, using them to yank you back on his cock.

With this position, you could feel every ridge and inch of him, the head of his cock pushing into your abused soft spot.

Drool leaked from the corners of your mouth, your eyes rolling back and hands practically ripping the pillow under you.

Jimin gritted his teeth as your walls constricted around him, trying to milk him for everything he was worth.

“Bout to cum. Fuck, bout to fill this pussy up.”

Pleasure sparked down his back as you gushed around him, more wetness leaking from you and soaking the backs of your thighs and his cock.

With a few more thrusts, he was pulling your ass back until he was buried all the way in your cunt, shooting his cum into your pulsing pussy. His orgasm was enough to make you cum again, your hips jumping trying to run from him but his hands held you still.

He leaned down until his chest was pressed into your back. “Stop running. Take it.” He grunted in your ear and you wondered if you could marry someone again while already being married to them.

After a few minutes of resting, Jimin sluggishly lifted himself from your back, lifting his hand to push his sweaty hair back. Now both of you would need a nice, long bath.

“Baby? Are you okay?” He noticed you’ve yet to move, not even a groan from him resting on your back like you normally did. He tapped your shoulder, still no movement.

Then he moved your locs that had covered your face to the side, finding your relaxed and resting face. You had fallen asleep. Of course.

He sighed, tapping you again. “Baby, get up. You should get cleaned up.” Still nothing.

Later after you woke up from a long nap, you found Jimin in the kitchen making a late lunch. The first thing you noticed were the red streaks across his back and arms. Wow, you didn’t even remember doing that.

You approached him, wrapping your arms around his waist, pressing a light kiss to his shoulder.

“Finally awake? How do you feel?”

You shrugged. “Fine. A little sore but nothing I can’t handle.”

He hummed and you two stood in silence for a moment before he broke it.

“How many drinks did you have?”

5 margaritas. That’s how many it took.

#bts #bts smut #bts fic #bts imagines #bts x black reader #jimin smut #jungkook smut #namjoon smut #seokjin smut #hoseok smut #yoongi smut #taehyung smut

[wholoveseggs]

since I heard you were taking requests 🫣 maybe an elijah fic where him and the reader had just gotten married and are off on their honeymoon somewhere, participating in some very smutty lovemaking, please? 🤭

Je t'aime, Je t'adore

18+ ---- {Masterlist}

You and Elijah are enjoying your honeymoon in the south of France, doing what newlyweds do best.

~Thanks for the request anon ♡♡ ~ I hope this is smutty enough -xo-

3k words - Warnings: smut, absolutely no plot, oral sex, blow jobs, public sex, sand, french.

You stepped out onto the balcony of the villa, breathing in the ocean air, and letting your eyes roam the coast, taking it all in. You could get used to this, you thought, as you felt two strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you back into a strong chest. You leaned into the embrace and turned your face up for a kiss.

"Hey you," Elijah whispered against your lips, "I was wondering where you'd gone. How's the view?"

"Amazing," you sighed, leaning further in and relaxing into his arms, "I can't believe we're actually here. And we have the whole place to ourselves, it's like a dream."

Elijah's hands stroked down your sides, coming to rest on your hips. "It's all real, my love," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your neck.

It had only been a few hours since you had married Elijah in a small private ceremony. And now here you are, on your honeymoon in the south of France. He had been planning it for weeks and hadn't given you much information at all. All you knew was that you were leaving town and to pack light, everything else would be provided for.

All that was left for you to do was enjoy your stay and the company of your new husband.

"Veux-tu aller nager? (Do you want to take a swim?)" Elijah asked, his breath warm against your skin.

You smiled and nodded, since you arrived in France he had been randomly dropping French phrases into conversations and you loved the way it sounded coming from his lips. 

You walked down the stairs of the villa to the private beach, holding Elijah's hand and listening to him tell you more about the area. He was so cute when he was talking about his favorite things, and it made you love him even more, if that was possible.

The sand was hot under your feet as you stepped off the bottom step. It was still warm from the sun which was setting in the distance, casting beautiful shades of pinks, reds, and oranges across the sky.

"This is beautiful," you breathed, watching the way the light played across the water, reflecting in the ripples of the waves.

"Just like you," Elijah said, looking at you with adoration.

You felt your cheeks flush under his gaze, as you smiled bashfully at him. His eyes were intense and dark and you wondered how it was possible for one person to have such a profound effect on you.

Elijah took your hand again, leading you closer to the water, where you both stripped down to your underwear, leaving your clothes on the sand, before wading in. The water was refreshing, cooling down your overheated skin, and it was amazing to feel so connected to the natural world like this.

As the temperature continued to drop, you waded a little closer to your husband, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Elijah turned his head to capture your lips in his, holding you close as the water lapped at your skin, and you both knew where this would inevitably end up. His lips kissed a trail down to your neck, nibbling your soft skin and leaving wet kisses as he went.

"Do you want to go inside?" you whispered breathlessly, knowing that you couldn't wait much longer to touch and taste him.

"Why bother?" Elijah murmured, moving down to your chest, his hands gliding up your back to unclasp your bra. He dipped his head down to tease your breast with his teeth and tongue, while his hands pulled the scrap of material from your body, and flung it carelessly towards the sand.

"Someone could see us," you giggled, glancing around at the shoreline, thankful it was completely empty.

Elijah smirked, leading you backwards into shallower water. "Eh bien, chérie, donnons-leur un spectacle (Well then, darling, let's give them a show)," he teased, lifting you up in his arms, and walking a few strides to the beach.

You squealed as you felt the chill of the air wash over your skin as you exited the water, feeling better when he placed you on the sun-warmed sand. Elijah admired your body and took in every detail from your flushed cheeks, to your stiff nipples, to the heat radiating from your core.

He looked so good, with just a pair of soaking wet briefs on, his muscles glistening in the last rays of light from the sun. His wet hair was plastered to his forehead, he looked downright sinful and you couldn't wait another second, biting your lip as you looked up at him.

Elijah leaned over you and you watched in admiration as he gripped the waistband of your panties and dragged them down, his eyes never leaving yours as his gaze burned with desire.

He placed a searing kiss to your lips as he pressed his body against yours then pulled your leg up and wrapped it around his hips. Your back arched off the sand as he brought you closer to him, feeling his erection straining against his briefs.

He grinned and began trailing kisses down your jaw and neck, sucking the skin gently. Your breath hitched as he nipped down your chest, his stubble scratching the sensitive skin around your breasts. He continued moving his mouth down your body, kissing along your stomach, going lower, and lower, licking the water droplets from your skin. His hands followed, caressing you everywhere. It felt like electricity was shooting through your veins, making your stomach flutter.

The sand beneath you shifted, as he licked your inner thigh and spread your legs wider. Finally, you felt his warm breath against your clit, and then his mouth on your pussy, his tongue licking you slowly, taking his time. Elijah hummed as his nose nudged against you, his tongue teasing you, tasting every part of you. 

Your hands then tangled in his wet hair and gripped the dark locks as he began circling your clit, licking it rhythmically. He knew your body so well, every move he made was calculated and perfectly executed. You loved this, the way he devoured you until you couldn't remember your own name.

Your panting breaths were sharp and quick and as he began flicking his tongue in a faster rhythm, you were close to losing your mind with how good it felt. Your mind was a blur, all you could focus on was the intense desire to release the pressure building inside you. His grip around your legs tightened as he pulled you closer, his hot mouth finally coaxing you to release. Your eyes fluttered closed as your orgasm hit you, harder than you expected, legs shaking as you let out a low moan.

Elijah chuckled, obviously loving how quickly he was able to make you come undone. He dragged the back of his hand over his mouth as he returned to his feet.

"Let's go inside, my love," he whispered, lifting you gently.

You smiled as you got to your feet and playfully began running towards the house, leaving him behind. He quickly caught up with you, pinning you against the wall of the villa and kissing you passionately.

He lifted you up, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, holding onto him and running your hands through his dark hair. He carried you into the shower, pressing your back against the cold tiles as he deepened the kiss. His hands were hot on your skin, gripping your hips hard enough to leave a bruise as he ground his erection against you, his soaking briefs the only layer separating you.

You pushed on his chest slightly and he let you down. Before slowly descending onto your knees, pressing kisses to his hot skin as you traveled down his torso, taking care to appreciate all of him. When you reached the waistband of his briefs, you dragged your nails down his stomach, teasing him and drawing a low growl from his throat.

You peeled the dripping wet material off and his cock sprung free. You looked up at him, his wet hair now sticking out in multiple directions, his breath ragged, pupils blown as he watched you take him into your hand and gently lick the tip. You stroked him a few times before swirling your tongue around his head.

"Est-ce que mon mari aime ça? (Does my husband like that?)" you asked in an innocent voice, stroking him even more.

Elijah grunted an agreement, threading his fingers through your hair and applying some gentle pressure to the back of your head, encouraging you to take more of him. You could tell he was close already, his abdominal muscles tense as you licked a stripe up the underside of his cock, feeling him twitch in your hand.

You took him all the way down your throat, bracing your hands on his hips as you pressed your face into his pelvis, letting out a low hum. This immediately sent him over the edge, his hands in your hair and releasing his hot cum down your throat.

You did this several times, sliding your tongue along his cock and tasting his release. You swallowed and licked your lips, glancing up at him, he looked so beautiful with the warm water cascading down his toned body.

He turned off the shower and in an instant you found yourself lifted in his arms, as he vamp-sped the both of you to the bed. He pinned you to the mattress, pressing his body against yours, kissing down your neck to your collarbone. He leaned back and spread your legs apart, pressing his hands into the back of your thighs, pushing them up next to your waist.

He slowly pushed just the tip of his cock inside you, before pulling out and tapping his cock against your clit, cum leaking out of the tip as he teased you. He repeated his actions, almost driving you mad with want. He let out a soft groan as he did so, watching your reactions with great interest. He began to graze your clit with his thumb, watching his cock slowly slide into you, the wet sound of your cunt filling the air. 

"Hmmm," Elijah moaned, as he sank deeper inside of you. He was always careful, taking his time, stretching you slowly. 

After several minutes of slow fucking, his thrusts began to quicken. He looked beautiful and serene, his hair framing his face, lips parted and his eyes boring into yours. He brushed your hair back from your face and stared into your eyes, "Ma belle épouse (My beautiful wife)"

He felt amazing, and you could feel yourself getting closer to another orgasm. Your toes curled, and your body relaxed into the bed, letting Elijah do all the work. You couldn't believe you would get to enjoy him, like this for the rest of your life.

Elijah withdrew his cock and began rubbing it along your opening. He stroked himself, cum spilling from his tip and running down his length before he sunk back into you. The sound of his cock sliding in and out was so erotic. The wet slapping of skin on skin, the slow steady rocking of Elijah's hips as his cum leaked out, dripping onto the sheets. 

"Jouis sur ma bite, douce fille (Cum on my cock, sweet girl)" Elijah said, his voice low and gravelly.

You weren't far from exploding. The combination of his slow deliberate movements and the constant, but gentle stimulation of your clit, had you tumbling over the edge. Elijah pressed his lips to yours as you climaxed, moaning into his mouth as you tightened around him. He smiled, kissing along your neck, nipping at your ear as he increased his pace.

"I can't believe you are my wife," Elijah hummed in wonder, and the softness in his voice had you melting, sinking into him as your eyes locked with his and you gave a dreamy smile. He was the love of your life, there would never be anyone else and he held your entire heart and soul.

"Je veux que tu sois enveloppé de soie, recouvert de miel, alors je pourrai prendre mon temps, explorer chaque centimètre de cette belle peau. Qu'en pensez-vous, Mme Mikaelson? (I want you wrapped in silks, covered in honey, then I can take my time, exploring every inch of this beautiful skin. What do you think of that, Mrs. Mikaelson?)" He drawled, lowering himself to drag his lips down your jaw, sucking marks onto your neck as he went. You closed your eyes, sighing in delight as you turned your head, giving him even more access.

"Je pense que ça a l'air divin, M. Mikaelson (I think it sounds divine, Mr. Mikaelson)” you hummed, feeling the butterflies in your stomach at the thought.

Elijah brought his lips to yours in a kiss that left you breathless and dizzy. Rolling you so you were lying side by side, your legs intertwined. He reached down, taking your leg, lifting it to rest it over his hip. You moaned as the tip of his cock grazed over your clit, then sank deeper inside you. Your hands clung to his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. 

His mouth trailed from your shoulder to your neck and he littered kisses and gentle love bites along your heated skin as his body ground against yours, the room quiet other than the soft sighs and quiet murmurs. It was blissful, and you never wanted this to end.

You began panting as you grew closer, Elijah's hand moved to your lower back, pushing you into him as you both chased your highs. It wasn't long before your pussy began to tighten around his cock, he held you in his arms as you let yourself fall over the edge.

He gently pushed you back so you were underneath him once more, lips locking together in an embrace so heated, so raw, it sent an electrifying current coursing through your veins. This profound feeling, a burning love like never before, could never be quenched. You were both totally consumed by the passion you had for each other.

Elijah pressed slow, passionate kisses to your lips as he slowed his movements, pressing so deep inside of you, his body flush with yours. A stray strand of dark hair fell into his eyes and you tucked it gently back, drinking him in.

He took your hands and wove your fingers together, pinning them to the bed. Every moment was bliss as the heat continued to rise, your breathing accelerating as your movements intensified.

But even this wasn't enough, his whole body needed to be wrapped around yours, to touch every part of you that he could. He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling the sweet scent that lingered on your skin. You tangled your fingers in his hair as he whispered against your ear, your breathy sighs falling over each other.

"Je t'aime, je t'adore, à jamais ma chère (I love you, I adore you, forever my dear)."

He captured your mouth again, unable to get enough of you, swallowing your moans as his thrusts got harder. His hands ran down your thighs, lifting them up and encouraging you to wrap them tightly around his waist. His fingers were in your hair, gripping softly, guiding your head into position so he could kiss you deeply.

The tension in the pit of your belly was tight, ready to spring at any moment, but you could never tire of how he touched you. How you moved as one, sharing your feelings through the physical.

Elijah smiled down at you, his forehead pressed against yours as he pounded you into the bed. Your lips barely inches apart. His stomach began to clench and his thrusts became frantic, sloppy. He was so close, and it would only take a few more strokes for him to tumble over the edge.

His cock was slick, sliding in and out of your tight, wet cunt. And you looked absolutely divine. The way his name had fallen off your tongue, how you had pleaded with him to finish inside you, never to stop. There was no sound sexier in the world to him. 

He pressed his lips to yours as he let go, letting out a low groan as he spilled his cum inside you. You moaned softly as you milked his cock, and ground against him, your breathing heavy and your hair sticking to your sweaty skin. You smiled and kissed him, wrapping your arms around his neck as he relaxed on top of you, his cock still buried deep. He nipped at your breasts, his hands roaming your body, enjoying the last few moments of euphoria.

Afterwards you lay sprawled together, arms and legs draped over each other, his fingers absentmindedly stroking your side. The sheets were a rumpled mess and you wanted nothing more than to never move again and instead bask in the afterglow.

"Do we have to leave here? I could stay like this with you forever," you sighed, snuggling further into him.

Elijah chuckled and placed a gentle kiss to your forehead, “Non mon amour. Il y a tellement d’autres endroits dans le monde que je souhaite visiter avec vous.. (No, my love. There are so many more places in the world I wish to visit with you.)

#elijah mikaelson #the originals #the vampire diaries #tvdu #vampire diaries #elijah mikaelson smut #honeymoon #elijah mikaelson imagine #elijah mikealson imagine #elijah mikealson #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikealson smut #elijah mikealson x reader #tvd #the vampire diaries x you #the vampire diaries x reader #the vampire diares imagine #the vampire diaries imagine #the originals imagine

[astaraels]

so I know I'm in the no galladads side of the fandom but hear me out on this one—

so it's maybe five years after the end of the show, Ian and Mickey are still going with their security business, maybe they've even branched out and hired some extra help, making good money, swapped out the stolen ambulance for actual SUVs that Debbie has fixed up for them, and they've maybe even bought a house back on the South Side with a dog and a cat and they're close to all of Ian's siblings (Debbie and Carl and Liam all still live in the old Gallagher house, Lip and Tammi are a few blocks over)

and one day they're on a lunch break together, leaving some diner when some rando kid bumps into Ian, turns out it was a pickpocket, and Mickey takes off after the jerk who tried to steal from his husband (he may not be a South Side thug anymore but like hell is he gonna let that shit slide)

he knocks the pickpocket over and it's some kid, like thirteen or fourteen with bright pink streaks in her dark hair and fierce brown eyes, and Mickey is like wtf kid do you wanna die

and the kid is like oh fuck you, very much an angry kitten type because she's definitely a scrawny thing—by this time Ian's caught up to them and his bleeding heart is like look if you give me my wallet back I'll buy you lunch (Mickey complains that "we just ate, Gallagher" but Ian insists)

so they either go back to the diner or find some McDonald's and this kid practically inhales some burgers and fries, and both Mickey and Ian know the look of a kid on the streets, but she's giving off those vibes that say don't touch me don't talk to me don't fucking perceive me

but Ian probably sees something like Mickey, and Mandy, in this girl and we all know he wants to help people, so he asks her if she's okay or if she needs anything, and even though he can feel Mickey starting to grumble next to him Ian still offers her their couch to crash on after she mentions getting kicked out of a salvation army shelter because they found out she was trans

and after some very intense eye to eye communication between the husband Mickey's like okay yeah fine but if one thing is outta place in the house then we're gonna have words

and the girl—they find out her name is Starr, or something like that—is like wtf why are you people being nice (they understand the suspicion, obvs, they aren't stupid), and Ian's like uhhhh we're gay and we've gone through some shit of our own so maybe we just wanna help?? (although he does notice she relaxes a little bit when he tells her that they're gay)

so they drive back home and Starr is absolutely enamored by the gallapets (a beautiful fluffy black cat and a big pittie mix, both of these animals are Ian and Mickey's baby girls), while Ian fixes up the spare bedroom with fresh sheets—usually it's where Franny or Fred stay when they come for weekend visits

and at first Starr is like okay yeah I'll stay one night but then I gotta go, and somehow it ends up that one night turns into two, then Ian and Mickey come home one afternoon and the house looks amazing because Starr is like "yeah your place was a fucking mess so I figured I'd clean" because she's not a freeloader gdi

and before they know it she's been there for a few weeks and Ian's trying to help get her back in school, because one night they were sitting around and talking and she offhandedly said that she does kinda miss school but the last place she went they were assholes about her transition, and Mickey is like just do that homeschooling course thing that maybe Tammi talked about one of her bougie friends doing for their kids

and then it's been a month or two and they bring Starr to a Gallagher family get together—Debbie hosts the family at the house at least twice a month, but everyone's been super busy lately so it's been a while since the last family dinner—and Debs gives Starr a hug and is like "oh so you're the kid my brothers adopted" (she and Sandy worked things out btw and have been back together for a while now, they've even maybe talked about getting married)

and Starr is like oh no I'm just crashing for a bit but by this point Ian has already got her the homeschooling correspondence courses, and Mickey's taken her to find a doctor who can prescribe her HRT ("it was on our route anyway, fuck off, Gallagher") and their pets adore her—Ian jokes that their cat is the one who actually adopted Starr, they just went along with it

and basically I just love the idea of them taking care of a young queer girl, and being like the cool gay uncles, and yeah :')

#gallavich #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #shameless #maybe I'll put this on a to write list <3 #galladads #starr verse

[tsukimefuku]

jujutsu sorcery and how the legacy stays alive ☾ nanami kento & higuruma hiromi

nanami x f!reader x higuruma

a take on what would happen if the trio's daughter wanted to become a jujutsu sorcerer.

tags: mdni! jujutsu kaisen, f!reader, +18, some spicy stuff, mostly fluff and domestic shenanigans, this is non-monogamy and polyamory guys. inspired by my AU, but not part of it.

wc: 3.3k

Also, this is an early birthday gift for @g-kleran, and I really hope you like it. 💜

"Kento, your gray hair is finally showing, it took a while" you said, while you sat beside him on the sofa and brushed his blonde locks back with your fingers. There was a small patch of silvery strands right above his forehead. 

You had your legs draped over his thigh, and he had been reading a book for a good while now after finishing cooking dinner. He would fix his reading glasses on his face from time to time with the tip of his fingers.

He let you keep caressing him for a few seconds before taking your hand gently and planting a soft kiss on your knuckles. "Of course it did. I have had white hairs for a while, but it wasn't so apparent as it was in yours or Hiromi's black hair."

You let out a chuckle. "Hiromi's hair is basically two colors now, black on top and gray on the sides."

Kento smiled, still reading his book. "Yes, it is."

You were looking at Kento's face now, and it was amazing how after all these years, he was still gorgeous. His chiseled cheekbone, his angular jaw, the way his strong hands held the book, and how his dexterous fingers gently flipped page after page. Now, he had a pair of glasses he'd mostly use for reading, but sometimes he'd forget to take them off to do other things around the house, and it was definitely a sight to behold.

"Why didn't you let Shoko help you with your eyes?" You asked, grazing the tip of your finger on his glasses' frame.

"Because there is no need to bother anyone with this. It's a perfectly normal part of getting older. Besides..." Kento stated, darting his eyes to you for a moment. "You once told me I look charming in these."

You laughed and turned his head to face you, brushing his cheek with your thumb. "You don't need glasses for me to find you charming, Kento."

Kento smiled silently at you, feeling the same heart fluttering he felt the first day he realized he was completely in love with you. He sighed, feeling his chest full and content, as you approached him and laid a soft kiss on his lips.

Letting the touch be delicate for a moment, Kento then leaned himself over and deepened the kiss, letting out a satisfied hum rumbling in his throat. 

You took his book delicately from his hands and laid it open, face down, on the sofa's arm rest. Usually, when you really wanted some attention, you'd simply butt yourself over your husbands, just like you were about to do now, and most of the time they'd never complain because both actually liked it.

You straddled yourself on his lap, and cupped his face with both your hands. Kento rested his forearms over your thighs, and hummed appreciatively while you sat on top of him, taking you in with his gaze. 

"Darling, our daughter will be home soon" he noted, as you took his glasses off, folded them and put them over the book.

"It's okay, she lost her keys, and I still haven't made her a new copy" you replied, pulling him in for another kiss. This time, you tested the seam of his mouth with the tip of your tongue, and he let you in. Not pulling any punches, you pressed your tongue against his mouth as your hips humped over his, and the moment Kento let out a gasp, you were more than happy to drink it in, before releasing his mouth.

"Still, I don't think we'd be finished before she gets home" Kento replied, feeling his blood involuntarily pooling south. He was trying to keep some composure, sure you'd all be at the dinner table in less than an hour, but you were making it very difficult, especially now that your lips began brushing against the side of his neck. He laid his head back, descending his fingertips pressed against your thighs, kneading his palms on the plush of your skin.

"We could have a quickie, come on!" 

You tried negotiating, a mischievous smile in your voice, as you nibbled on his jawline with your teeth. Kento let out a satisfied sigh, and pulled you down, grinding his now growing bulge against your core, having you gasp against him in surprise.

"We're not young anymore, love. We don't do 'quickies'." His eyes glanced over your breasts, making their shameless way down your entire body, and then back to your face, taking in every curve he had already memorized by this point. "I'd need the entire night to do everything I want to do with you."

"Oh, is that so?" You noticed how his eyes stayed on your breasts for a moment, so you put over your shoulders both strings that held your shirt and slid the entire thing down, revealing your bra.

Following suit, you pulled him in, having Kento's face buried deep in between your breasts. He lowly groaned, bucking his hips up, as he slid his tongue over them, intercalating the licks with soft bites and kisses, bringing his hands up to pull your bra down.

Then, you heard the door unlocking.

As it opened behind the sofa, you shuffled around to leave Kento's lap, face blushing violently as you did so, pulling your shirt back into position. Kento, on the other hand, started looking around for anything to hide his bulging pants, quickly grabbing the book and having his glasses fall over as he did so. He pinched the bridge of his nose, displeased, as you tried to make yourself presentable again.

"Hey, you two rabbits, could you please keep your hands to yourselves today? This is an important occasion" you heard Hiromi's voice near the open door. It was then closed, and he stepped towards you and Kento, stopping briefly. In a second, his hand was beside Kento, holding his glasses.

"Thank you" Kento replied, still embarrassed, taking the glasses with one hand, as he pressed his book against the middle of his pants with the other.

"Hey, darling" Hiromi cooed, hunching himself over to kiss you swiftly. He was slightly out of breath, and you figured he ran home to meet you all for dinner.

Even after you and Kento had retired from being full-time sorcerers, finding it better to just teach the new generation and occasionally training them, Hiromi couldn't find it in himself to do so. He kept working and exorcizing curses like the good workaholic that he was.

"Hi, handsome" you replied, smiling at him. "And we didn't forget! We made dinner and the table is set" you answered, pointing at the dinner area.

"You mean Kento made dinner, darling" he replied jokingly, throwing his body over the armchair in front of the sofa, letting his arms dangle lazily from the rests, and streching his legs as he did so.

The hair on his temples was completely gray by this point, and on his forehead, you could see two very faint lines forming. His build, however, was the same as it had always been, and you sighed for a moment, gazing at Hiromi, with your heart warming before you found it in yourself the strength to resume speaking again.

"Oh, I helped!"

"Darling, you barely cut half an onion" Kento said matter-of-factly, shuffling himself on the sofa, waiting for his blood to resume pumping to the rest of his body.

Hiromi noticed Kento was trying to hide his pants under his book, and didn't let it slide. "Kento, there is nothing there I haven't seen at least a hundred times. We've all been living together for fifteen years, get over yourself."

Kento proceeded to hide his vermilion face with his hand, as you chuckled sheepishly. 

Hiromi clapped once and caught your and Kento's attention, before he proceeded.

"So, Jujutsu High. Sakura really wants to go there, and called me earlier today asking for my help in convincing the both of you to let her. She asked me not to tell you both she talked to me, but I guess we ought to discuss this before she gets home" Hiromi said, resting his elbows on his knees.

"I don't know, Hiro" you answered, scratching your head. "But I guess I'm more open to the idea now."

"Absolutely not" Kento answered. "My stance hasn't changed, especially ever since this terrible idea was brought up months ago."

Kento had been adamant that your children would never become jujutsu sorcerers, even when it was all a faint possibility - even before you all found out you were pregnant fourteen years ago. He had been unwavering on that ever since. The former sorcerer had seen too many good people die while fighting curses, including his best friend, Yu Haibara, when the boy wasn't much older than your daughter is now.

This still stuck with him, so many decades later.

"I think we should talk about it, Kento. She has her mother's innate cursed technique, after all. Our daughter can become a jujutsu sorcerer if she wants to, which she really seems to, and it would be better if we were involved in that" Hiromi chimed in, resting his chin on his fist.

"You both know my feelings about this, and I will not change my mind. Jujutsu sorcery is idiotic and dangerous" Kento replied, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Kento, come on, Hiromi is still a jujutsu sorcerer" you stated, as Hiromi rolled his eyes.

"And he shouldn't be. He has a teenage daughter and should prioritize a line of work that makes the odds of him returning home alive at the end of the day more favorable."

You sighed as you and Hiromi shared a accomplice look.

There was a knock at the door, and you checked your watch, knowing full well this was around thirty minutes before your daughter was to be home.

"Are we expecting anybody else?" You inquired, having both of your husbands shrug.

Puzzled, you got up and walked towards the door, opening it. You were met by a fluff ball of white hair and pitch black glasses with a wide grin on his face.

"Hey!" Gojo exclaimed, cocking his head to the side like a dog. "I hope dinner is ready."

"Satoru!" You jumped in place, glad to see him there. Since being bound to Jujutsu High's HQ, you'd rarely see your friend, who was mostly on missions every day. Examining his face, you noticed once again how he didn't seem to have aged a day ever since he turned 30. God really has his favorites. "Turn off infinity."

"Already did, you always ask for that" he replied, opening his arms. You jumped over and gave him a tight hug. 

"What are you doing here?" You finally asked, inviting him in.

"Oh, your daughter called uncle Gojo, because she knows he's the absolute best" he began, and approached you to finish his sentence, "and she thought I'd be able to convince Nanamin to let her go to Jujutsu High."

Kento groaned audibly, saying stop calling me that, and you smiled at Gojo while saying, "Good luck with that."

"Why did our daughter think you'd be able to waver my resolution? Does she really not know me?" Kento complained. If he were someone more expressive with his face, he'd definitely be pouting at that moment.

"Because I'm just the funniest, greatest, amazing guy you'll ever meet!" Gojo exclaimed, sitting on the other armchair in front of the sofa. "Oh, hey, Higuruma! How was your mission today? I hand-picked that especially for you, so you'd be home early."

"You did!? Well, you chose terribly, that thing occupied me for hours on end" Hiromi replied, finally pulling on his black tie to make it looser, opening the first few buttons on his shirt.

"Really!? Did I choose poorly or are you just getting rusty, uh, Higuruma?" Gojo teased, and Hiromi scoffed with a half smile.

Kento still had a sour expression on his face, and after the teasing was over, you were all engulfed in an uncomfortable silence. Before Gojo could resume his antics, you began speaking.

"Kento, my love, you know our daughter. She's willful, and will go about trying to find and exorcize curses on her own. Damn, she already pulled a stunt like that once."

He was silent, listening to you, while looking the other way on his corner of the sofa.

"Wouldn't you prefer she did so under the tutelage of good sorcerers?"

"Exactly" Hiromi interjected. "And I'll be on missions too, I can accompany her in most of them when she gets enrolled."

"And I'll be there too!" Gojo complemented.

At that, Kento scoffed. "Gojo, if it were up to you, you'd be throwing all these teens in the most nightmare-inducing missions possible. Don't you remember Yuuji's missions?"

"N-no, wait, c'mon" Gojo began trying to explain himself, "when sorcerers are strong that's not much of a worry, and you guys' daughter is pretty strong herself."

Kento remained silent and Hiromi sighed, somewhat hopeless, getting up and walking towards the kitchen, probably to make himself a drink. You followed him, and stood there by his side as he took a glass and poured in it a dose of whiskey.

"Just... Give it time, Hiro" you said, reassuringly brushing your hands over his shoulders. "He'll come around."

"We only have a few months before she's done with middle school" Hiromi answered, taking a sip of his whiskey. "I don't think we have enough time. We might need to do this against his wishes."

"Hey, come on, now" you put your hand on his shoulder, turning him to face you. "We're not doing that, we won't go over Kento's head. We all make these decisions together, remember?"

Hiromi grunted, displeased and defeated. "I know, darling. It's just that she already tried exorcizing a curse by herself and got into pretty deep trouble. She needs to go to Jujutsu High. She is a jujutsu sorcerer in nature, it's what she wants to do, and there is no stopping her from doing so. I just worry."

"Me too, Hiro. Me too" you replied, planting a soft kiss on his lips with your hands over his chest.

Apart from being the spitting image of you, specifically, at least in the physical sense, your daughter was like a perfect storm of the three. She had the same idealist sense of purpose as Hiromi, your unwavering drive to do things she deemed important, and Kento's unyielding stubbornness.

"We'll be able to put some sense into him, I promise. Please, let's hold off our horses and just talk to Kento today, okay?"

He pulled you in for another kiss with his arms wrapped around your waist, and kept your body pressed against his for a while. 

"Okay, sweetheart" he finally said, as you smiled. "What wouldn't I do for you?"

"Not much, I hope" you replied, biting his bottom lip softly. He hissed, his body becoming tense, and his grip on your waist turning tighter. He slid the tips of his fingers behind your neck, and drove them up your hair, giving it a soft tug at the roots, stealing a gasp from your lips.

"Woman, don't tease me" Hiromi warned you, pulling your head back to brush his lips against your jawline. "I had one hell of a day, and 'unwind' is not a strong enough word for what I need right now."

"Me? Teasing you? I'd never do such a thing" you mockingly replied, wiggling your way out of his grip and stepping back into the living room.

***

You, Hiromi, Kento, Gojo and your daughter were all sat at the dinner table, simmering under the most uncomfortable silence ever known to manking. Gojo was happily eating mouthfuls of curry, already on his third serving, waiting for anyone to begin speaking. You looked at Sakura, who looked at Hiromi, who looked at Kento, who looked the other way, still displeased. 

"So..." your daughter began speaking, clearing her throat, "I am almost finished with middle school." She nervously brushed her hands over her black locks, eyes darting across the table waiting for any feedback.

No one said anything, Gojo's munches being the only sound right now filling the room.

"And I thought- I mean, I think we should talk about where I'll go when I enter high school."

"You're not going to Jujutsu High, Sakura. That's definitely not going to happen" Kento answered in his stern way, as he rested his cutlery over his plate.

"Why not, dad?!" She asked, pouting. "You, mom and dad Hiromi were all jujutsu sorcerers, and I have mom's technique! I have all it takes to be a jujutsu sorcerer!"

"Oh, it takes a lot more than having an innate cursed technique to become a jujutsu sorcerer" Kento replied.

"Sweetheart, your dad is right about that" you interjected, looking at her. "It's not all fun and games, it's dangerous. The three of us were the lucky ones, many jujutsu sorcerers die very young."

"You three weren't lucky" Gojo interjected, cleaning his mouth with a napkin. "You three were talented and strong Grade 1 sorcerers — Higuruma still is. If your daughter is even half as talented as you all were, she'll be fine. Besides" he paused, a toothy grin plastering all over his face. "I'll teach her how to fight myself!" He concluded with a thumbs up.

You had flashbacks from the times you trained with Gojo, and a cold shiver ran down your spine.

"I think I'll take my odds letting Yuuji train her" you said, with an undertone of concern in your voice.

"Yuuji?! Why?!" Gojo inquired, seemingly very offended.

"Because he's not a madman like you!" You replied.

"And he's a more empathetic and caring teacher, too" Kento interjected.

You were all surprised to hear something like that from Kento, and looked at him, waiting for the former sorcerer to say anything else.

He sighed, and put both of his hands on the table.

"There is no changing your mind about this?" Kento asked, looking at your daughter.

She mustered all the pride and determination she could, with her fourteen-years-old knowledge of the world, and straightened herself on her chair, before answering, "no."

Kento sighed before proceeding. He knew his daughter was as stubborn as he was, after all. 

"And you two truly believe this is the best for her?" Kento inquired, now looking straight at you and Hiromi.

You exchanged looks with Hiromi, darting your hand to hold his, before he answered, "yes, I think this is the best alternative."

"Me too" you complemented.

Kento sighed, yet again. "Fine, then. I'll let you enroll in Jujutsu High."

Your daughter squeaked silently on her chair. "Thanks, dad!"

Kento lifted a finger, asking for a moment to resume speaking. Your daughter went silent and glanced at him, attentively. "You'll only take missions on after acclimating for a month there. Also, no more than one mission a week, and your dad will accompany you until the end of your first year, are we clear?"

Hiromi nodded and looked at her. "Maybe even after that. I'll be by your side every step of the way, okay, sweetheart?"

"And I'll have some training sessions with you, too" you said, smiling at her, "just so you can learn from the best how our family's technique can be used."

The teen was barely keeping herself from exploding out of sheer excitement.

"And Gojo" Kento said, pulling the sorcerer's attention to him, "you'll take good care of my daughter. You might be the strongest sorcerer alive, but if anything happens to her, I'll be sure to exorcize you with my bare hands."

"You meant 'kill'?" Gojo asked.

"No, I meant exorcize. You're basically a curse at this point, haunting me for all these years with your antics."

"Hey!" Gojo exclaimed, "Did I come to this house only to get offended?"

"Of course not, you ate half of all the food we made!" You chirped, spirited.

"That Kento made, darling" Hiromi poked at you.

"Meh, technicalities!"

You all chuckled, and you sighed nervously, knowing your daughter would be following in all of her parents' footsteps, taking over the jujutsu sorcery legacy you thought for so many years that would end with you.

***

You, Hiromi and Kento were all laid on the king-size bed after dinner. Gojo had already left, and your daughter would surely be fast asleep in her own bedroom by now, nearly in the witching hours of the night. Kento was laying down peacefully, while he began reading his book somewhat from the same point you had interrupted him, and Hiromi rolled himself over again and again on the other end of the bed. You were checking the news on your own smartphone before deciding you were tired enough to sleep.

"Hey, Kento..." you cooed. He hummed to let you know he was listening. "Thank you."

"What for?" He asked, not taking his eyes from the seemingly enthralling pages of the novel.

"For listening to us, and to her."

"Of course I listened to you all."

"Huh?" You asked, flicking your phone dark before putting it on the nightstand, darting your arm over him as you did so. Your resting body was now facing him, impassive gaze softly cracked by the affection of domestic affairs.

"You all had perfectly reasonable arguments for me to do so. Even if I'm concerned with our daughter, she needs proper guidance to navigate the life of curses" Kento sighed, before closing his book and removing his glasses. "She will be a jujutsu sorcerer, after all."

You smiled, looking at him, incredulous as to how much you could still flutter to his presence, even after so many years into a stable, loving marriage.

Hiromi rolled himself over once again, and draped his arm over your waist, having your body shiver in response to that innocuous display of affection.

"He came around, it seems" Hiromi cooed softly, with a sardonic mockery to it, while pulling you in to plant a few kisses on your neck.

A moan crawled its way out of your mouth, much to your own surprise, as Hiromi pressed his abdomen against your back, snaking his hand down your belly. 

Kento rolled over on his shoulder to face you, and also surprisingly, slid his hand down your pajamas, cupping your ass by the end tail of his explorations on your body. Your face blushed slightly, and you chuckled, a little embarrassed.

"Are you two really in the mood for it?" You asked. Hiromi's lips were still pressing insistently against your neck, his hand hanging dangerously low by the edge of your pajama's pants. Kento smiled, and pressed his tongue with no warning against your lips, pushing his way in to taste you as he did.

"I had a dreadful day, of course I'm in the mood for it" Hiromi whispered, warm breath tickling against your earlobe.

"And I thought that we agreed we were too old for 'quickies'", Kento concluded as he parted his lips from yours.

"Shall we have a healthy competition, Kento? See whose name she moans more often?" Hiromi inquired, pressing his palm against your clothed sex, eliciting a whimper from you as your head fell back to brush against his shoulder. "I'm very determined to win this time around."

Kento smiled, now pressing his own kisses just over the towering muscles in the middle of your neck.

"I don't mind taking part in that competition, as long as she enjoys it."

--

End notes:

This is literally the first and only request I've ever taken, and I'm quite pleased as to how it turned out. I hope the requester is just as pleased :)

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #nanami kento #jjk fanfic #jjk nanami #jujutsu nanami #higuruma hiromi #jjk higuruma #jjk imagines #kento nanami #kento nanami x you #nanami x reader #nanami x y/n #nanami x you #hiromi higuruma x reader #higuruma x y/n #higuruma x reader #higuruma x you

[happiest-hotch]

3 AM

part one

Summary: Aaron shows up somewhere he shouldn't be with some words for you

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader (Angst/Fluff)

Word Count: 1.4k

Content Warning: mutual cheating

You go home to a house that doesn't feel like home, which isn't anything new, but today, it upsets you. Maybe it's too late, and the case drained you too much. Your self-preservation instincts refuse you to consider an outside factor.

Thankfully, your need for sleep trumps any chance of facing an existential crisis, so instead of staring at the ceiling wondering how your life got to this point, you're asleep almost as soon as your head hits the pillow.

It doesn't last long. Too soon, a knock on your door wakes you, and you reach for your phone to check the time. 2:52- great. If it were BAU-related, Penelope would have called and left messages before pounding on your door in the early morning. You run through who it could be. Maybe your pathetic excuse of a husband lost his keys, but nothing would inspire him to come home unless he learned of your affair and was hypocritically mad. Or it could be much more mundane; police, firefighters, a neighbor. 

Speculation gets too exhausting, so you get up and walk to the front door, checking your gun is sitting on the side table before opening the door.

It's one of the last people you expect. You wrap your robe tighter around yourself, defensive and hyper-aware that he's in jeans and a shirt, and you're in a tank and sleeping shorts. 

"Hotch." You greet him coldly, colder than the chilly DC night air. 

He didn't expect a more positive reaction. "Don't call me that." He says slightly too pathetically. 

"What can I do for you?" You ask, unsure what's compelling you to continue the conversation and not just slam the door in his face.

He shouldn't be here.

He knows it, you know he knows it, and you know it.

"Let me in." The Unit Chief tone, commanding authority, is nowhere to be heard, no matter how hard he tries to muster it up.

You sigh, momentarily weighing the pros and cons before stepping aside. Aaron follows you in carefully. Houses, thus far, have been off limits, like there was some unwritten rule neither of you would show up at the other places, knowing the consequences, but he's here, and you're still not sure why.

As you lead him down the hallway, Aaron keeps his head down, obviously trying to avoid being nosey. It's amusing since the personal pieces he assumes you have and refuses to look at don't exist. You wonder if he's drawing similarities between you and where you live, both beautiful on the outside and empty on the inside.

"Is he-" His question quickly gets reframed. "Are you alone?"

"I was." You answer. "He's in Pierre, South Dakota."

"Our case was in Pierre, Sou- Oh." Unsurprisingly, he put it together quickly. Pierre, South Dakota, is not a big enough place for you not to have run into your husband.

You laugh humorlessly. "I know. It's smart to have an infallible lie, but maybe not that specific." You remark. "He's actually in Miami. I checked the credit card and told him our case was there, so he always has to look over his shoulder."

Aaron doesn't smirk at what you consider a wonderfully devious plan. Instead, he looks concerned. "You still have joint credit cards? Are you keeping any money he can't touch?"

"Surely you didn't come here to discuss my financials." You shoot back, but he raises his eyebrows, and you know you can't progress the conversation without answering his question. "Yes. I've been to a lawyer and an accountant. He's only running himself into massive amounts of debt." You assure him. "Although, I'm not sure when this became your business."

His answer doesn't come quickly, and when he speaks, it's inadequate. "It's not."

"Okay, so what are you doing here?" You prompt. "Because you look like hell, Aaron, and you could really do with some sleep."

"I went home and sat there for an hour just thinking." He tells you. So, he didn't get lucky enough to fall asleep and avoid dreadful spiraling thoughts.

"You want to talk about your feelings?" You ask incredulously, unsure how he conjured the audacity to come here. His lack of answer is an answer. "No." You shake your head firmly. "You don't get to do this. Whatever we are, we don't discuss feelings."

"We could," Aaron begs desperately. It's not hard to profile that he keeps his emotions bottled up until he's bursting, so you know Aaron's here for a different type of release, for you to drain yourself listening to his problems and leave before he can consider that you have feelings.

You could hit him hard enough that he stops talking, and it's tempting.

"I'm okay with running to you when you want to have sex, but I can't be who you run to when you want to talk to someone about your day." You explain it as simple as you possibly can. 

"I don't think of you like that," Aaron assures you, his eyes softening as his words fall short of being stern.

Frustrated, you huff. You're tired and wound up, easily upset, and Aaron shouldn't be here. "Well, I have to think of you like that... or I can't sleep with you and not feel anything."

"You're not hearing me." He argues, a tiny flicker of the fire you saw before appearing in his eyes. "I want you to feel things."

You bit down on your bottom lip to avoid crying. You've become so callous to everything around you, bottled so much of it up that it's difficult to let any emotion show without breaking the floodgate. 

"You don't." You fight back, although it comes off far weaker than you expected. "I'm messy, my whole life is just one disaster after another, and I'll never excite you if we're not sneaking around."

Aaron's hands come to cup your cheeks, surprising you completely. It's a soft touch that has your lips closed in a second. "Don't say that." He instructs, speaking firmly but gently. "You're not a mess, not at all."

"Look at where we are, Aaron!" You remind him, throwing your arm at your side. For a detail-orientated person, he's only focusing on the big picture. "I'm married, you're married, and this is so damn messy."

"I know, I know." He nods. "It's... less than ideal, but we can get through it." He promises, holding you tighter now, like he's worried you'll slip away. "I want to be there for you. I don't care about any mistakes from your past. And please, please don't say that you won't excite me because I will always be excited every time I see you." It's enough to have you in gentle tears, not angry, heavy sobs, and he does his best to wipe them up delicately. "But if you don't feel the same way..." 

Aaron's waiting for your decision, and he isn't about to add more pressure, but he will stand there for as long as you need to decide. 

"I do." You affirm. "God, Aaron, I want to be with you more than anything, but I'm not sure I know how to." Being married is just a technicality now, and a divorce is something you're fiscally ready to do now. 

"Tea." He decides, his permanently furrowed brows relaxing. 

"Tea?" You repeat. 

He moves slightly away from you. "Where's the kitchen?" You're still confused about why now is the right time for tea, so you wait for him to explain. "I'm going to make you tea, and we're going to drink it while you tell me how you're feeling, and then whatever you want- a drive, breakfast, you name it, it's yours."

You pull away from him, offering your hand to take him to the kitchen. "Sleep is what we're doing after this." You tell him. "I don't say it to be mean, but you do look like hell."

"Wait." He stops you before you're in the kitchen, turning to hold your hands in his. "You need to know that I don't care about anything in your distant or soon-to-be past, but it's always going to be my privilege to be part of your future."

Aaron isn't meant to be here, and you aren't either, but wherever you're meant to be, it's with him.

#aaron hotchner #criminal minds angst #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner one shot #criminal minds #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds family