#// listen his wife posted this and i just needed to post it.
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The Saga of Great Uncle Asshole And The Priest From Hell
It's thanksgiving (in the US) so have a family gathering disaster that is old enough to be funny. Almost a decade ago, after a life of stirring up drama everywhere she went, my grandmother died. She was an unhappy woman who tried to be better to her grandkids than she was to her kids, and didn't always succeed, and she's the reason that when I smell cinnamon tic tacs they're accompanied by the reek of an illusory cigarette. This is not a sad post. This is a post about the fact that her funeral was a fucking disaster and it was ultimately about 50% her fault. See, my whole family was at one point or another catholic. Grandma really enjoyed going to church in her last years because it got her out of the nursing home, and priests have to listen when you tell them about the husband you divorced and the children who think they know better than you. Grandma did not consider the fact that the local priest she'd latched onto like a talkative moray eel in a cloud of nicotine smoke was an unmitigated bigot. She left instructions that she wanted her funeral to be at that specific catholic church and for that priest to do the sermon. It didn't occur to her that the person who would be organizing her funeral would be her gay daughter and her daughter's wife.
Shit started getting real about when the doors opened to recieve mourners. Over the course of ten minutes, my aunt summoned:
her elder sister, a paralegal
my father, who has never seen a conflict he would not cheerfully walk away from
Their younger brother, in order to swear at the priest
My mother, who hadn't had a good opportunity to fight a priest since we left our own church and was game to do it again.
This left me, the eldest grandchild, in charge of the receiving line, despite the fact that I knew approximately no one there. My brother and cousins were woodenly shaking hands and then whispering "who's that?" "I don't know." My aunt's husband was escorting the elderly and infirm up the stairs one at a time. My uncle's wife was also around but she knew even fewer people and was mostly listening at the door of the ongoing argument.
So when my brother and Boy cousin went to see if we could pry someone who knew who was related to us out of the argument and I was busy trying to convince an octegenarian that she did NOT need to figure out which of her cousins had married one of grandma's siblings before sitting down, Girl Cousin was alone at the door.
Great Uncle Asshole arrived in a storm of curses and a faux-coonskin cap. He blew past Girl Cousin, thumped his cane up the steps, and seized my hand. It was like shaking hands with an extremely strong mummy. "You look just like your mother! It's the hair, what a bird's nest. Where's your daddy? And the rest of Helen's brood."
I muttered something about them finalizing details with the priest.
"Well, they'll come see me soon enough. Bet you don't know who I am!" I didn't know who anyone was. Everyone older than me was having a verbal cage match with a member of the clergy or escorting some other old fogey to their seats, everyone younger than me had even fewer clues, and my only hope was to wrap this conversation as fast as possible. "Nope!" I said, "I haven't seen most of the people here in years." If I had ever seen them in the first place. He was going to be mad, but I figured if I had to be the bouncer I could probably take an eighty-something year old guy who breathed like the surgeon general's personal warning to smokers. I could at least shut the door on him.
"Of course you wouldn't! Your gran wouldn't have told you. I'm your great uncle Roger, and I'm here to bury the hatchet, by which I mean your grandma! She and I swore over our father's casket we'd never be under the same roof again while we both lived, and by god I kept my oath!" People were starting to stare, and it was at this moment that a thirty-something man in a suit sprinted up the stairs, and my uncle's wife, with a look of dawning horror, called her husband. "Roger's here." The middle aged folks descended immediately. Here is a snapshot of the ensuing conversation: "Roger, why don't we find you a seat?" - my mother in her best teacher voice "Glad to see you're doing well enough to make it" - My father, in his best 'good god I want to be anywhere else' voice. "Take me to the coffin! I want to see her with my own two eyes!" - Great Uncle Asshole, "And hang up my **** hat! Killed it myself!" "I'm so sorry, I didn't know he could walk that fast" - strange suit man "If you are QUITE finished, I am starting the ceremony in ten minutes" - the priest
As my father and his brother towed a grinning and cursing old man to the furthest reaches of the family section, my mother and my oldest aunt caught all the cousins up on the argument with the priest. My youngest aunt was still crying while her wife stared fixedly at the stained glass panes and periodically handed over tissues. The upshot of it all was that my aunt and her wife would be allowed to attend the funeral (on pain of the whole family literally walking out on the priest) but would not be allowed to take communion, because the priest didn't believe in their marriage. My aunt's wife had neglected to point out that, being Jewish, she wasn't going to take communion anyway. "That's fucked" said boy cousin, and the four of us immediately resolved in whispers to refuse communion as well. The priest opened his sermon with pointed remarks about the older generation's devotion and respect for the church. He continued on through psalms and all that until he got to the blessing of the eucharist and asked the family up to receive communion. My father, who hadn't taken communion since I could remember, stayed seated. My mother stayed seated. My aunts and uncles stayed seated. The cousins stayed seated. About a third of the church didn't move. "Well father, I'll have mine! These young folks think hey have all the time in the world to get right with the lord, but you and I know better!" The priest, who had been visibly hoping god would smite us, turned a wincing glare on my great uncle and the series of distant relatives and nursing home neighbors who were now shuffling up. The service dragged on. We were lined up to say goodbye to everyone, while the suit man (who would turn out to be my second cousin) bodily hauled great uncle asshole and his coonskin cap down the stairs. "I should have known my sister wouldn't manage to raise any good Catholics! Horrible woman." he said loudly as he was stuffed into a car driven by suit man's apparent twin. The priest approached as we were finally ready to leave, to ask why we were so stubborn that we deprived ourselves of communion. After all, unlike my youngest aunt, we weren't obvious sinners! "Oh, I'm Lutheran" - My eldest aunt. "I'm an atheist" - My uncle "I don't think you're qualified to bless anything." - My mother, who learned her religion primarily from a horde of socialist-leaning nuns.
With that, we left the wreck of my grandmother's funeral behind. "Helen," said my mother, very deliberately, when we were safely in the car, "would have HATED that." My dad started laughing. "Are you kidding? She would have loved that! It would have been all she complained about for years!"
#and then we had to go to the funeral luncheon#where we properly met the second cousins#explained the tea about the priest to them#and played a rowdy game of 'which of us is going the most to hell according to conservative catholocism'#which I won only by virtue of being the only out queer cousin#at the time anyway#apparently I was the only kid great uncle asshole knew existed#because he and grandma had had their falling out when I was ONE#Also grandma and great uncle's father was a piece of work#so all around a disaster zone#grandma STILL managed to drop a drama bomb on the following thanksgiving#from beyond the grave#because in her papers she left behind accusations that grandpa had cheated on her#at this point they had been divorced for over thirty years!
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Beast Of Burden - Chapter 11
Full Series
"Kallixenia, Kallixenia wait-"
Kallixenia dons her armor in the same terse silence she's held since Dione's messenger reached them.
"Kallixenia! Gods' sake, stop! This is a trap! You know it is!" Nephele berates her, snatching her helmet out of her hands.
Kallixenia closes her eyes and inhales slowly through her nose. "Nephele, give me my helmet."
"No! Not until you listen! Pherusa, tell her!"
"She's right. Give us some time to plan a rescue-"
"There is no time and we're not planning a rescue; this is my fight, give me my helmet."
"Oh, hold me back or I'll crack her skull with the damned helmet! Idiot martyr!"
"You stubborn fucker!" Athis curses, inserting herself between Kallixenia and Nephele. "If you do this then what was the point of it all!?"
"We're not surrendering. Our order will no longer send its sisters out to die." Kallixenia says quietly.
"Then what do you call this, Kallixenia?"
"This is none of your concern."
"Oh, you- you fucking-" Nephele hisses. "No, you know what? We don't have to listen to her. Wake everyone, we're rescuing a princess." She throws Kallixenia's helmet at her and storms out, leaving her speechless as it clatters to the ground and the others follow her lead.
"W-Wait!" She says, rushing after them as they all leave. "You can't just attack them with no plan!"
"Oh, now she talks sense." Says Pherusa, gesturing for everyone to stop. "So what's the plan?"
"Only I need to-"
"I was wrong, still an idiot." She sighs, and everyone begins to leave again.
"Wait!!!" Kallixenia cries. Gods, why must they be difficult about this, she just doesn't want to see them hurt over her problems. "This isn't your fight!"
"It is!" Athis snaps back at her. "Of course it is! They want to kill you! They have your wife captive! We're your fucking sisters, how could it not be our fight!?"
"I just…" Kallixenia takes a shuddering breath under the weight of her sisters' ire. "I don't want to see anyone die when I could prevent it."
"Nor do we." Pherusa says, softening. "That's why we'll take a chance that any of us might die over a guarantee that you will."
She hugs her, and everyone else joins in, crushing Kallixenia in their embrace.
"Tell us the plan, commander."
~
It's not the best plan she's ever had, but they're pressed on time. Their only shot is an assault under cover of darkness- hit them hard and fast, and then retreat back into the night sky before they can be overwhelmed by the inquisition's superior numbers.
There are barely fifty of them, ready and able, circling high above the inquisition camp. If they fail here they won't get a second chance- they won't even be able to defend the monastery. Everyone, not just her friends, are staking their future on this rescue.
Kallixenia prays for victory, and blows her war horn.
The paladins descend on the camp like a flock of vultures, ripping night watchmen out of their posts and dispatching them, tossing their lanterns down to start fires on the outskirts of the camp. Panicked inquisitors spill out into the snow and are struck down before they know what's happening, anyone with a bow or a wizardly look about them immediately targeted by the swarming angels to ensure they hold control of the skies.
It's brutal. Dishonorable. But if Dione wanted an honorable fight, she shouldn't have taken her fucking wife hostage.
The High Cleric is nowhere to be seen yet, but she can't keep hidden for long. The fires illuminate the inquisition camp, and the paladins retreat upward out of sight. A wizard tries to light up the sky with a spell and they dive upon him, his death returning it to inky darkness before they can be shot down. They take some arrows in the process, but nothing that can't be flown home from.
The second major attack is the tricky one, the inquisitors ready and watching for them to come into view. The paladins wait in a holding pattern, strike teams planning out their targets as they wait for Kallixenia's signal.
It doesn't seem like Dione intends to show herself yet, so Kallixenia blows the war horn again.
The paladins do nothing as the inquisitors tense and search for their approach.
Thirty wingbeats later, they split up and swoop down, teams darting in from every direction to swiftly eliminate their targets. Arrows and spells fly through the air, glancing off Kallixenia's shield as she dives in to dispatch a crossbowman. She lands for a brief second to bash him off balance and run him through, narrowly blocking a swing from another inquisitor before Achaia cuts him down and they both take off again.
The impacts reverberate through her, her shield vibrating on her arm. She isn't doing enough. They took injuries on that attack, she can see some of her sisters flying off-balance back to the monastery. She's supposed to protect people, and she isn't.
She watches the fires spread as everyone who can still fight gathers in the air. The inquisition can't repel them and extinguish their camp, and they've lost a lot of their ranged options. They can wait them out a bit, see if- There!
Dione storms out of her tent, dragging Lunaeris by her shackles. She throws her to the ground and draws her sword, screaming inaudibly into the sky. Kallixenia blows the war horn three times in quick succession, and dives down to meet her.
She lands hard, her sisters circling low to prevent anyone else from approaching.
"Dione!" She roars. How dare she treat Lunaeris this way, threaten to kill her right in front of her? Kallixenia can feel her heartbeat pounding in her shield arm as she stares the High Cleric down.
"Call them off, Kallixenia!" Dione howls against the deafening wingbeats, furious. "I'll kill her!"
She levels her blade at the neck of the Princess, who glares up at her defiantly.
"I don't take orders from you anymore!" Yells Kallixenia. She can feel something building inside her, her shield thrumming with energy in time with her racing heart. She can protect Lunaeris. She will.
"So be it!" Dione says, raising her sword to strike the Princess down.
She must protect Lunaeris, for that is her oath.
The energy bursts free, and Dione brings her sword down on a glittering holy barrier. Kallixenia can feel the blow on her shield; though it barely jolts her arm, even unbraced as she is. She raises her shield in time to barely feel Dione's second strike, and then before the third she propels herself forward with all her might. The golden aegis staggers the High Cleric with a blast of concussive force, and Kallixenia follows it up with a shield bash that knocks her to the ground.
"Lunaeris!" She says, dropping to her knees and undoing her gag. "Lunaeris, are you alright?"
Smoke billows from the Princess' mouth as she releases her breath, her skin is hot to the touch. "Kallie…" She says. "Get these fucking shackles off me."
"Of course." Says Kallixenia, as she scrambles to swipe the key from the dazed Dione's belt. She unlocks the shackles and heat rolls off Lunaeris in waves, the fires throughout the camp roaring to life as she unleashes her magic in a wild burst. After a moment she slumps over, weak, and Kallixenia cradles her in her arms. "I've got you, Princess. I'll never let you go again."
Lunaeris smiles through panting breaths. "Cold." She mumbles. "Take me home, beloved."
Kallixenia blows the horn to signal a retreat, then holds Lunaeris tightly as she takes to the sky.
Back at the monastery she sets her down; removes her armor as quickly as she's able so that she can embrace her princess once more, let the exhausted pyromancer leech her body heat as she carries her back to her room. She draws her into bed and lets her crawl atop her, snuggled into her chest with wings and blankets draped over her. Lunaeris begins softly snoring almost instantly, lulled to sleep by the beating of Kallixenia's heart as it slows and she joins her in dreams.
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god I gave up on Moby Dick too early last time. this weird little man goes from 'oohhh terrifying foreigners' to getting gay married to one so quickly. this is only chapter 8 ffs
#listen there is a lot to be said about externalizing your own fears and desires#and projecting them on a racialized other#and that being racist in itself#it's just funny how quickly this guy gives in to his desires#'ah yeah i guess I'm this savage's wife now. it's normal to him i guess'#BRO YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT CULTURE HE IS FROM HOW COULD YOU KNOW WHAT HIM SAYING YOU'RE MARRIED NOW MEANS#anyway if that's what he needs to tell himself to get some love and affection. i guess#moby dick#books#my posts
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i saw the first top gun film the other day and I must say, in my humble opinion, the most unrealistic part about that film is the fact that they’re constantly trying to sell you that maverick pulls more bitches than goose
#like yes tom cruise is lovely but COME ON#HAVE YOU SEEN HIM#PLEASE GOOSE JUST ONE CHANCE#i haven’t seen the new one yet btw#but all I had seen about it before was everyone thirsting over rooster#and again miles teller is lovely as well#BUT LIKE LET ME TALK ABOUT HIS FATHER#listen I respect the fact that he’s a family man#he’s got a kid#he’s got a wife he loves very much#BUT IF HE DIDNT#you cannot try to convince me that he wouldn’t have more game than mav#sorry 🤚#the moustache the laugh the sense of humour the sweetness the hawaiian shirts#HE’S THE PERFECT MAN COME ON#that was all I had to say thank you#this is a bit different from what I usually post but I needed to get this off my chest#mars rants#top gun 1986#nick bradshaw#goose top gun#nick goose bradshaw
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hey this post is relevant to no one but shout out to countertenors and falsetto voices. how the hell do you do that like what. special shout out to resident funny man Brian David Gilbert for reaching a high C as the winter king in fionna and cake that’s actually mad i am in envy and awe good sir
#when (hopefully) i go on testosterone and my voice goes low i hope i have a cracking falsetto voice#i mean i have a good range now so hopefully it’ll stay somewhat intact#i mean if not that’s ok but like it’d be cool#sorry this is like the most self indulgent post ever literally no one else cares but yknow what i care and that’s enough it’s my tumblr blog#but like seriously. brian david gilbert is insanely talented a c is a high note to reach#i need to go through his other stuff (and not just listen to don’t tell your wife about this game although it is very good)#post over enjoy the time#ezra likes music
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flower garden on june 1st. happy pride.
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I need to go out and water but have finally hit the "I'm so over this" phase of gardening bc I didnt water for 3? Days straight which is enough to break the habit and make me lose interest
But everything is growing finally and I want cucumbers damn it
But I also dont wanna go out bc its sunday and "Ben" the creepy neighbor waits to mow his lawn until he sees that I'm out (I've tried waiting until evening and HE will wait until evening 😒 freak) so it's like do I just go get it over with so I can shower faster? Or....
#marquilla#thats not his name i just couldnt think of a nickname when i made the first post ab him ahdhddh he's probably gonna be#CreepNeighbor from now on bc i like doing dumb nicknames for people when i talk ab them#anyway id put headphones on but i can't bc i need to be able to hear if people are coming on the sidewalk so i can move my hose out#of their way bc i can't always see them til theyre RIGHT THERE but i feel like headphones wouldn't stop this freak#i already have a podcast going on my phone when im out and he can see me take it out and pause it when he talks so he KNOWS im listening to#something but nooo i gotta bother the cute 20 something Haha! doesnt matter that my wife and kid are here haha they dont mind (;#like dude i am so far from interested and even if i WAS i aint a homewrecker nor a sidechick so buh bye
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Please stop and listen.
When I ask you all to do everything you can, it is not a suggestion.
Nour's posts often get thousands upon thousands of notes, however somehow he hasn't received any donations in 2 whole hours and even before then only received them sparsely.
I understand that some people truly, honest to God cannot donate and to those people I hold absolutely no contempt. I myself have no bank account or job so have only been able to donate to a few USD campaigns by converting old birthday money to giftcards.
But, that's the thing, right? Not to over-inflate my own contributions, but despite my own situation I have still been able to donate to some people. So, it's clear as fucking day to me that unless ALL of your money goes to bills and food (streaming services don't count, anything recreational DOES NOT COUNT), that you are all making excuses.
Unless you meet the description I previously described, you can donate to Nour. He and his family are in constant danger of dying. They live in a squalid tent with a newborn baby which they are unequipped to take care of properly because they are suffering under a GENOCIDE. READ THE WORD. READ IT AGAIN. I would also like to add that Nour's other child is also struggling to receive basic resources. A single carton of milk is $60 USD, and diapers are $80 a box. They can barely scrape by with what little money they have. Do not grow numb to it and do not grow complacent because millions of people, thousands upon thousands of newborn babies just like Nour and his wife's little son, they are subject to constant displacement, surrounded by bugs and disease, and are literally in danger of starving to DEATH.
You don't need to buy that new game. You don't need that new shirt. You don't need to go see that (LIKELY BDS BOYCOTTED) new movie.
Most if not all of your spending money right now should be going to help Palestinians like Nour and his family. There is no excuse. Plain and simple.
I have nothing else I can say to make you people finally understand the gravity of the situation.
Help him. Now.
$21,377 USD/$45,000
VETTED BY ASSOCIATION
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Kingdom of Ash Chapter 57
Chapter Highlights (most of the chapter is the highlight lol)
An hour before dawn, the keep and two armies beyond it were stirring.
Rowan had barely slept, and instead lain awake beside Aelin, listening to her breathing.
That the rest of them slumbered soundly was testament to their exhaustion, though Lorcan had not found them again. Rowan was willing to bet it was by choice.
It was not fear or anticipation of battle that had kept Rowan up—no, he'd slept well enough during other wars. But rather the fact that his mind would not stop looping him from thought to thought to thought.
He'd seen the numbers camped outside.
Valg, human men loyal to Erawan, some fell beasts, yet nothing like the ilken or the
Wyrdhounds, or even the witches.
Aelin could wipe them away before the sun had fully risen. A few blasts of her power, and that army would be gone.
Yet she had not presented it as an option in their planning last night.
He'd seen the hope shining in the eyes of the people in the keep, the awe of the children as she'd passed. The Fire-Bringer, they'd whispered. Aelin of the Wildfire.
How soon would that awe and hope crumble today when not a spark of that fire was unleashed? How soon would the men's fear turn rank when the Queen of Terrasen did not wipe away Morath's legions?
He hadn't been able to ask her. Had told himself to, had roared at himself to ask these past few weeks, when even their training hadn't summoned an ember.
But he couldn't bring himself to demand why she wouldn't or couldn't use her power, why they had seen or felt nothing of it after those initial few days of freedom. Couldn't ask what Maeve and Cairn had done to possibly make her fear or hate her magic enough that she didn't touch it.
Worry and dread gnawing at him, Rowan slipped from the room, the din of preparations greeting him the moment he entered the hall. A heartbeat later, the door opened behind him, and steps fell into sync with his own, along with a familiar, wicked scent.
"They burned her."
Rowan glanced sidelong at Fenrys. "What?" But Fenrys nodded to a passing healer.
"Cairn—and Maeve, through her orders."
"Why are you telling me this?" Fenrys, blood oath or no, what he'd done for Aelin or no, was not privy to these matters. No, it was between him and his mate, and no one else.
Fenrys threw him a grin that didn't meet his eyes. "You were staring at her half the night. I could see it on your face. You're all thinking it—why doesn't she just burn the enemy to hell?" Rowan aimed for the washing station down the hall. A few soldiers and healers stood along the metal trough, scrubbing their faces to shake the sleep or nerves.
Fenrys said, "He put her in those metal gauntlets. And one time, he heated them over an open brazier. There…" He stumbled for words, and Rowan could barely breathe. "It took the healers two weeks to fix what he did to her hands and wrists. And when she woke up, there was nothing but healed skin. She couldn't tell what had been done and what was a nightmare." Rowan reached for one of the ewers that some of the children refilled every few moments and dumped it over his head. Icy water bit into his skin, drowning out the roaring in his ears.
"Cairn did many things like that." Fenrys took up a ewer himself, and splashed some into his hands before rubbing them over his face.
Rowan's hands shook as he watched the water funnel toward the basin set beneath the trough.
"Your claiming marks, though." Fenrys wiped his face again. "No matter what they did to her, they remained. Longer than any other scar, they stayed."
Yet her neck had been smooth when he'd found her.
Reading that thought, Fenrys said, "The last time they healed her, right before she escaped. That's when they vanished. When Maeve told her that you had gone to Terrasen."
The words hit like a blow. When she had lost hope that he was coming for her. Even the greatest healers in the world hadn't been able to take that from her until then.
Rowan wiped his face on the arm of his jacket. "Why are you telling me this?" he repeated.
Fenrys rose from the trough, drying his face with the same lack of ceremony. "So you can stop wondering what happened. Focus on something else today." The warrior kept pace beside him as they headed for where they'd been told a meager breakfast would be laid out.
"And let her come to you when she's ready."
"She's my mate," Rowan growled. "You think I don't know that?" Fenrys could shove his snout into someone else's business.
Fenrys held up his hands. "You can be brutal, when you want something."
"I'd never force her to tell me anything she wasn't ready to say." It had been their bargain from the start. Part of why he'd fallen in love with her.
He should have known then, during those days in Mistward, when he found himself sharing parts of himself, his history, that he'd never told anyone. When he found himself needing to tell her, in fragments and pieces, yes, but he'd wanted her to know. And Aelin had wanted to hear it. All of it.
They discovered Aelin and Elide already at the buffet table, grim-faced as they plucked up pieces of bread and cheese and dried fruit. No sign of Gavriel or Lorcan.
Rowan came up behind his mate and pressed a kiss to her neck. Right to where his new claiming marks lay.
She hummed, and offered him a bite of the bread she'd already dug into while gathering the rest of her food. He obliged, the bread thick and hearty, then said, "You were asleep when I left a few minutes ago, yet you somehow beat me to the breakfast table." Another kiss to her neck. "Why am I not surprised?"
Elide laughed beside Aelin, piling food onto her own plate. Aelin only elbowed him as he fell into line beside her.
The four of them ate quickly, refilled their waterskins at the fountain in an interior courtyard, and set about finding armor. There was little on the upper levels that was fit for wearing, so they descended into the keep, deeper and deeper, until they came across a locked room.
"Should we, or is it rude?" Aelin mused, peering at the wooden door.
Rowan sent a spear of his wind aiming for the lock and splintered it apart. "Looks like it was already open when we got here," he said mildly.
Aelin gave him a wicked grin, and Fenrys pulled a torch off its bracket in the narrow stone hallway to illuminate the room beyond.
"Well, now we know why the rest of the keep is a piece of shit," Aelin said, surveying the trove. "He's kept all the gold and fun things down here."
Indeed, his mate's idea of fun things was the same as Rowan's: armor and swords, spears and ancient maces.
"He couldn't have distributed this?" Elide frowned at the racks of swords and daggers.
"It's all heirlooms," said Fenrys, approaching one such rack and studying the hilt of a sword. "Ancient, but still good. Really good," he added, pulling a blade from its sheath.
He glanced at Rowan. "This was forged by an Asterion blacksmith."
"From a different age," Rowan mused, marveling at the flawless blade, its impeccable condition. "When Fae were not so feared."
"Are we just going to take it? Without even Chaol's permission?" Elide chewed on her lip.
Aelin snickered. "Let's consider ourselves swords-for-hire. And as such, we have fees that need to be paid." She hefted a round, golden shield, its edges beautifully engraved with a motif of waves. Also Asterion-made, judging by the craftsmanship. Likely for the Lord of Anielle— the Lord of the Silver Lake. "So, we'll take what we're owed for today's battle, and spare His Lordship the task of having to come down here himself."
Gods, he loved her.
Fenrys winked at Elide. "I won't tell if you don't, Lady."
Elide blushed, then waved them onward. "Collect your earnings, then."
Rowan did. He and Fenrys found armor that could fit them—in certain areas. They had to forgo the entire suit, but took pieces to enforce their shoulders, forearms, and shins. Rowan had just finished strapping greaves on his legs when Fenrys said, "We should bring some of this up for Lorcan and Gavriel."
Indeed they should. Rowan eyed other pieces, and began collecting extra daggers and blades, then sections from another suit that might fit Lorcan, Fenrys doing the same for Gavriel.
"You must charge a great deal for your services," Elide muttered. Even while the Lady of Perranth tied a few daggers to her own belt.
"I need some way to pay for my expensive tastes, don't I?" Aelin drawled, weighing a dagger in her hands.
But she hadn't donned any armor yet, and when Rowan gave her an inquiring glance, Aelin jerked her chin toward him. "Head upstairs-track down Lorcan and Gavriel. I'll find you soon."
Her face was unreadable for once. Perhaps she wanted a moment alone before battle. And when Rowan tried to find any words in her eyes, Aelin turned toward the shield she'd claimed. As if contemplating it.
So Rowan and Fenrys headed upstairs, Elide helping to haul their stolen gear. No one stopped them. Not with the sky turning to gray, and soldiers rushing to their positions on the battlements.
Rowan and Fenrys didn't have far to go.
They'd be stationed by the gates at the lower level, where the battering rams might come flying through if Morath got desperate enough.
On the level above them, Chaol sat astride his magnificent black horse, the mare's breath curling from her nostrils. Rowan lifted a hand in greeting, and Chaol saluted back before gazing toward the enemy army.
The khaganate would make the first maneuver, the initial push to get Morath moving.
"I always forget how much I hate this part," Fenrys muttered. "The waiting before it begins."
Rowan grunted his agreement.
Gavriel prowled up to them, Lorcan a dark storm behind him. Rowan wordlessly handed the latter the armor he'd gathered. "Courtesy of the Lord of Anielle." Lorcan gave him a look that said he knew Rowan was full of shit, but began efficiently donning the armor, Gavriel doing the same.
Whether the soldiers around them marked that armor, whether Chaol recognized it, no one said a word.
"Ready now," Chaol called out to the men of his keep.
This would be it—today. Whether that hope remained or fractured.
Already, the awakening sky revealed two siege towers being hauled toward them. Right to the wall. Far closer than Rowan had last noted when flying overhead last night. Morath, it seemed, had not been sleeping, either.
The ruks would remain back with their own army, driving Morath to the keep. To be picked off here, one by one.
"We have minutes until that first tower makes contact with the wall," Gavriel observed. A scan of the battlements, the soldiers atop them, revealed no sign of Aelin. Lorcan indeed muttered, "Someone better tell her to stop primping and get here." Rowan snarled in warning.
"Archers!" Chaol's bellow rang out. Behind them, down the battlements, bows groaned. Fenrys unslung the bow across his back and nocked an arrow into place.
Rowan kept his own bow strapped across his back, the quiver untouched, Gavriel and Lorcan doing the same. No need to waste them on a few soldiers when their aim might be needed with far worse targets later in the day.
But one of them had to be noted felling soldiers. For whatever it would do to rally their spirits. And Fenrys, as fine an archer as Rowan, he'd admit, would do just fine.
Rowan followed the line of Fenrys's arrowhead to where he'd marked one of the bearers of a siege ladder. "Make it impressive," he muttered.
"Mind your own business," Fenrys muttered back, tracking his target with the tip of his arrow as he awaited Chaol's order.
If Aelin didn't arrive within another moment, he'd have to leave the battlements to find her. What in hell had held her up?
Lorcan drew his ancient blade, which Rowan had witnessed felling soldiers in kingdoms far from here, in wars far longer than this one. "They'll head for the gates when that siege tower docks," Lorcan said, glancing from the battlements to the gate a level below, the small bastion of men in front of it. Trees had been felled to prop up the metal doors, but should a solid enough group of enemy soldiers swarm it, they might get those supports and the heavy locks down within minutes. And open the gates to the hordes beyond
"We don't let them get that far," Rowan said, eyeing up the massive tower lumbering closer. Soldiers teemed behind it, waiting to scale its interior. "Chaol brought the tower down the other day without our help. It can happen again."
"Volley!" Chaol's roar echoed off the stones, and arrows sang.
Like a swarm of locusts, they swept upon the soldiers marching below. Fenrys's arrow found its mark with lethal precision.
Within a heartbeat, another was on its tail. A second soldier at the siege ladder fell.
Where the hell was Aelin—
Morath didn't halt. Marched right over the soldiers who fell on their front lines.
The pulse of human fear down the battlements rippled against his skin. The cadre would have to strike fast, and strike well, to shake it away.
The siege tower lumbered closer. One glance from Rowan had him and his friends moving toward the spot it would now undeniably strike upon the battlements. Close enough to the stairs down to the gate. Morath had chosen the location well.
Some of the soldiers they passed were praying, a shuddering push of words into the frigid morning air.
Lorcan said to one of them, "Save your breath for the battle, not the gods."
Rowan shot him a look, but the man, gaping at Lorcan, quieted.
Chaol ordered another volley, and arrows flew, Fenrys firing as he walked. As if he were barely bothered.
Still, the whispered prayers continued down the line, swords shaking along with them.
Up by Chaol, the soldiers held firm, faces solid.
But here, on this level of the battlements ... those faces were pale. Wide-eyed.
"Someone better say something inspiring," Fenrys said through gritted teeth, firing another arrow. "Or these men are going to piss themselves in a minute."
For a minute was all they had left, as the first siege tower inched closer.
"You've got the pretty face," Lorcan retorted. "You'd do a better job of it."
"It's too late for speeches," Rowan cut in before Fenrys could reply. "Better to show them what we can do."
Rowan steadied his breathing, readying his magic to rip through Valg lungs. He'd fell a few with his blades first. To show how easily it could be done, that Morath was desperate and victory would be near. The magic would come later.
The siege tower groaned as it slowed to a stop.
Just as the wall under them shuddered at its impact, Fenrys whispered, "Holy gods."
Not at the bridge that snapped down, soldiers teeming in the dark depths inside.
But at who emerged from the keep archway behind them. What emerged.
Rowan didn't know where to look. At the soldiers pouring out of the siege tower, leaping onto the battlements, or at Aelin.
At the Queen of Terrasen.
She'd found armor below the keep. Beautiful, pale gold armor that gleamed like a summer dawn. Holding back her braided hair, a diadem lay flush against her head. Not a diadem, but a piece of armor. Part of some ancient set for a lady long since buried.
A crown for war, a crown to wear into battle. A crown to lead armies.
There was no fear on her face, no doubt, as Aelin hefted her shield, flipping Goldryn in her hand once before the first of Morath's soldiers was upon her.
A swift, upward strike cleaved the Morath grunt from navel to chin. His black blood sprayed, but she was already moving, flowing like a stream around a rock.
Rowan launched into movement, his blades finding their marks, but still he watched her.
Aelin slammed her shield against an oncoming warrior, Goldryn slicing through another before she plunged the blade into the soldier she'd deflected.
She did it again, and again.
All while heading toward that siege tower. Unhindered. Unleashed.
A call went down the line. The queen has come.
Soldiers waiting their turn whirled toward them. Aelin took on three Valg soldiers and left them dying on the stones.
She planted her line before the gaping maw of that siege tower, right in the path of those teeming hordes. Every moment of the training she'd done on the ship here, on the road, every new blister and callus—all to rebuild herself for this.
The queen has come.
Goldryn unfaltering, her shield an extension of her arm, Aelin glowed like the sun that now broke over the khagan's army as she engaged each soldier that hurtled her way.
Five, ten—she moved and moved and moved, ducking and swiping, shoving and flipping, black blood spraying, her face the portrait of grim, unbreaking will.
"The queen!" the men shouted. "To the queen!"
And as Rowan fought his way closer, as that cry went down the battlements and Anielle men ran to aid her, he realized that Aelin did not need an ounce of flame to inspire men to follow.
That she had been waiting, yanking at the bit, to show them what she, without magic, without any godly power, might do.
He'd never seen such a glorious sight. In every land, every battle, he had never seen anything as glorious as Aelin before the throat of the siege tower, holding the line.
Dawn breaking around them, Rowan loosed a battle cry and tore into Morath.
This first battle would set the tone.
It would set the tone, and send a message.
Not to Morath.
Impress us, Hasar had said.
So she would. So she'd picked the golden armor and her battle-crown. And waited until dawn, until that siege tower slammed into the battlements, before unleashing herself.
To keep the men here from breaking, to wipe away the fear festering in their eyes.
To convince the khaganate royals of what she might do, what she could do. Not a threat, but a reminder.
She was no helpless princess. She had never been.
Goldryn sang with each swipe, her mind as cool and sharp as the blade while she assessed each enemy soldier, their weapons, and took them down accordingly. She dimly knew that Rowan fought at her side, Gavriel and Fenrys battling near her left flank.
But she was keenly aware of the mortal men who leaped into the fray with cries of defiance.
They'd made it this far. They would survive today, too. And the khaganate royals would know it.
Galloping hooves drowned out the battle, and then Chaol was there, sword flashing, driving into the unending tide that rushed from the tower's entrance.
"To Lord Chaol! To the queen!"
How far they both were from Rifthold.
From the assassin and the captain.
Arrows rose from the army beyond the wall, but a wave of icy wind snapped them into splinters before they could find any marks. A dark blur plunged past, and then Lorcan was at the siege tower's mouth, his sword swinging so fast Aelin could barely follow it. He battled his way across the metal bridge of the tower, into the stairwell beyond. Like he'd fight his way down the ramps and onto the battlefield itself. Below, a boom began. Morath had brought in their battering ram.
Aelin smiled grimly. She'd bring them all down. Then Erawan. And then she'd unleash herself upon Maeve.
At the opposite end of the field, the khagan's army pushed, gaining the field step by step.
Not helpless. Not contained. Never again.
Death became a melody in her blood, every movement a dance as the tide of soldiers pouring from the tower slowed. As if Lorcan was indeed forcing his way down the interior.
Those who got past him met her blade, or Rowan's. A flash of gold, and Gavriel had slaughtered his way into the siege tower as well, twin blades a whirlwind.
What Lorcan and the Lion would do upon reaching the bottom, how they'd dislodge the tower, she didn't know. Didn't think about it.
Not from this place of killing and movement, of breath and blood. Of freedom.
Death had been her curse and her gift and her friend for these long, long years. She was happy to greet it again under the golden morning sun.
#Chapter 57#Kingdom of Ash#Sarah J. Maas#Rowan Whitethorn#Aelin Galathynius#Chaol Westfall#First Read along with me NO SPOILERS PLEASE though warning for post & tags up to KoA 57 & more reacts/notes/quotes in tags below#Why didnt it blaze-they burned her-afraid2ask-had Aelin allowed it?Maeve stole&knew-no1had been able to heal past it-how powerful had been#Thought to thought-Hadn’t been able to ask why-She’s afraid too-Noone else-She was out for weeks after-Couldn’t tell her-The marks stayed#Fierce pride-One people-Happy-Breathing-Proof-Chaol didn’t knowWhat he didn’t sayHe knew it was her-Of the wildfire-How could he ask that?#But what had happened?-Training nothing-where is it?Fenrys knew-They didn’t pry-But he saw-Cold Fear hatred bit at him-He said it for her#cause he felt it too-What that’s horrific-No one other then them Knew-that it was that bad-Couldn’t breathe yeah me too-The ice again#That scar held longer than any-And they tried-she tried-Nehemia quick no more cowards-She’d given up and Fenrys knew it Aelin had broken-#before itShe knew they would break herThat’s what that run wasNot one of saving but one of leaving-I won’t go-When she’s lost hope#focus on something else stop wondering-He’ll say it so she doesn’t have to-Let her come when she’s ready-thanks Fenrys-His attitude is fair#but also he knows-Part of why he’d loved her-Should’ve known when she won’t talk it’s something that brutal-Needing wanting her to know#&hear-A mark-She fed him ACOTAR mate style-Laughed4once-the4-Their team-mischief&lovely-every door makes me miss Mort#THE ARMOR AND SWORDS-He reminds-He defends-She’s got a plan-Gods he loved her-my lady-if only gods for hire-the waves of it#lol sorry Lorcy they didn’t fit the armor-what’s her plan?-they know but they know enough to let her do her thing-unreadable-that shield#Aelin what’s the plan babe?-golden-she knows how to make an enterance-It’ll be done shortly so they listened to a queen knowing she’s hidin#Power of a good speech lol-Whether hope remained or fractured-Primping-Break in plan-NO THE TOWERS#Aelin&The/her cadre Breath for battle not gods Something inspiring-You’ve got a pretty face lol-the power of their names-Holygodsliterally#The queen has come-A crown-No fear-Aelin Anielle armor no braid nothing burning-3 months of power storing-she knew what show they needed#love her or hate her the woman’s got style- Rowan babe this is war you can’t just ogle your wife lol-Still he watched her-she is the sun#The queen has come-For this-She was ready-To the queen-Grim unbreaking will-What she without magic could do-Nothing like her#So she would show them-To the people+A reminder;She has never been a helpless princessno lost queenno before anything#the one you want now The Queen of Assassins. The Prince Rowan at her side.Her cadre around her.They’d survive to tell the tale#&the people know it.Hope.How far from the assassin and the captain we’ve come.the right hand man.What about Elide?Her plan1by1#Defiant not helpless dare I say she felt it too-Never againDeath her melody the one thing they all sharedHer never ending pursuit of Freedo#death her first friend the sun her first gift the question&answerAelins not using her power shes saving it for Maeve&gives that up for them
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It's giving the...main character syndrome. like who tf does she think she is??? Y/N???
NO OH MY GOSH ANON. LET ME TELL YOU. LET ME FRIGGIN TELL YOU.
#okay so i need to give her a name. we will call her yn bc she is just so different and quirky and not like other girls#so i haven't liked yn since freshman year (am a junior) because she seemed incredibly pretentious. she has like awards n stuff for this#asian advocation group and tons of other stuff which is GOOD. but she has a tendency to brag and be very cocky about it.#AND YOU KNOW WHAT. IT WASNT JUST ME. MY FRIEND FROM SEMINAR who we will call Pie for certain reasons (her name rhymes with it) AGREED WITH#ME ABOUT YN BEING COCKY! and Pie and Yn are in the same group since they are both Asian and ppl at my school typically hang out w their rac#is that racist? like there's an asian boys group and asian girls group. but it's only asians and white people; but it's weird since a large#portion of my school is hispanic. i dunno WEIRD SIDE TANGENT BUT BASICALLY THEY ARE IN THE SAME GROUPS; RIGHT? so Pie was agreeing that Yn#can be very pretencious; and I'm then like#oh i don't really like her for the cheating stuff she did with Mac (fake name) and how she got#him to basically cheat on his girlfriend“ and Pie says ”oh well Mac started it; but Yn lead him on for over a month while he had a gf#and they kept this going until Yn decided to break things off; WHICH MEANS MAC'S NOW EX GIRLFRIEND NEVER KNEW ABOUT ANYTHING W MAC N YN!#also allegedly according to my boyfriend; Yn was doing homework as Mac was yk DOING it to Yn and she just like... LET IT HAPPEN WHILE HE HA#A GIRLFRIEND. HELLO? and when Yn ends it; he's like “omg but yn... i love you...” “no. i'll only hurt you; if you're with me it'll only hur#uh okay 25k words slowburn vibes.... ANYWAYS so she takes screenshots and sends them in a SUPER big groupchat with 20+ people (including Pi#and my boyfriend) and Pie (who was childhood friends with Mac) called her out saying how it was also kind of her fault for being with a guy#who was in a relationship; but she got super defensive about it. and this same thing happened AGAIN 2ish months later with a girl Jas and#her boyfriend Ben; where Yn was friends with both but basically was emotionally cheating with Jas; leading them to break up; and then she#GOT WITH JAS. HELLO???? WHAT??? and they r still together. none of them talk to Ben even though Yn said they were 'all cool and friends'#SUREEEE GIRL SURE. KEEP TELLING YOURSELF THAT. and Pie called her out on this AGAIN since Pie is friends with Ben and Jas too but Yn got#defensive AGAIN! BC SHE KNOWS ITS A SHITTY THING TO DO! and Pie doesn't really like her because of it and when Pie told me all of that I wa#in shock. because Yn was trying to play the victim in the situation with Mac when she sent the messages to the gc; and tried to do that AGA#N BUT IN THE SITUATION WITH JAS LIKE NO U ARE JUST A CRAPPY PERSON ! and appearently she is SO toxic she was nearly kicked out from a#leadership role at my school's asian pacific islander club or something! like girl WAKE UP! but that's not all; so i didn't know she was#known for going for people who had partners; yet still didn't like her; and last school year (about 4 months ago) my boyfriend got a 'reall#bad haircut' (i thought it was cute; but everyone made fun of him ) and Yn RAN around our campus trying to find him to make fun of him..#like wtf that's so weird and she will post screenshots of their convos on her story and be like 'omg he's bullying me!' when he's being dry#and did that in the gc (this time; i'm in it!) and i crashed out but my bf was apologizing and saying he told her to not post anything but#she didn't listen or something i guess. and sometimes when they are wearing similar outfits she'll post on her story that they are matching#um girl he has a wife and 12 kids. back the FUCK off. and i told him to distance himself from her or set boundries cuz i don't like that n#it makes me uncomfy; so he did which is good! but i still don't like Yn. she is a major pick-me IMO and very two-faced and covers her
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࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 11:52 A.M 」
based on this and this video :)) this is fluff supply before remarried empress au part 2 is posted~
a part of gojo's love entries
satoru had always thought... you were the perfect mother to his child.
“ma...!”
your baby boy, with his white hair and blue eyes full of innocence, was crawling towards you with all his might, and you were on the other side of the bed with open arms, ready to accept him.
“yes, baby, you can do it!” you cheered, a permanent smile on your face, completely adoring satoru’s mini-him as he tried to reach you.
you really are. after all, you were the girl of his dreams first and foremost, who then became the woman he had sworn to protect forever.
“just a little bit more! aww, my baby is so cute!”
...but hey, since you were his wife above all, weren't you supposed to take care of him too? these days, you seemed to spend all your love on your son… and spared him unamused looks whenever he tried to bed you!
satoru observed as his little baby made his way towards you with visible excitement, totally capturing your attention fully. narrowing his eyes in analysis, he devised a plan.
and so, right before his kid could reach you, he immediately went over to your side, scooped up the baby and pecked you in the lips.
“oh—! satoru!”
“don’t i deserve mama’s attention too...?” he asked, eyes pleading sadly. “hmm?”
“—? waah!” but before you could react to his sneak attack, your baby son was so startled that his eyes filled up with tears. in that moment, he wrenched away from his father's grasp and hurriedly crawled towards you, seeking comfort in your arms, and you hugged him.
“there, there...” you almost laughed at this exchange as you patted his little back, sending a wink at satoru. “poor baby, what has papa done to you, huh?”
satoru pursed his lips in response, directing a slight glare on his baby, who was suddenly calm and smiley as he was smushed against your bosom, looking at him with those wide eyes—as if flaunting his victory.
the little fiend, he thought. i’ll show him!
“listen you...”
and half an hour later, he cornered the boy against the wall, trying to assert his position.
“we need to share mama. you're taking all. her. time.” satoru emphasized, eyeing his baby with narrowed eyes. the boy looked back at him with clear disinterest, merely blinking.
satoru huffed righteously. “you gave her severe tummy ache when you were still inside that i had to stay up to soothe you, and now when you're out... you monopolize her love! how is this fair? what am i left with?!”
baby blinked, leaning inquisitively towards him.
“do you understand me? i need my wife bac— gyaaah!”
you literally ran out of the kitchen when you heard satoru’s sudden yell, thinking something had happened. “satoru! what’s wrong—”
only to arrive at the scene of the most amusing sight imaginable. your husband was on the brink of panic as your baby, with a vengeful expression, chomping down on his nose.
“he ate my nose! help! HEEELP!”
#𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#satoru gojo x reader#jjk drabbles#jjk crack#gojo satoru#satoru x reader#jjk imagines#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo satoru fluff#jjk fluff#gojo x you#satoru gojo fluff#jjk x reader fluff#gojo fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jjk fic#jjk fanfic#jujutsu kaisen imagines#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#gojo satoru imagines#dad!gojo#jjk gojo satoru#jutusu kaisen x reader#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo
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Tags: jjk men as dads, tooth-rotting fluff, comfort drabbles
Synopsis: How the JJK men treat you while pregnant (spoiler warning- they dote on you.)
An: This is my formal apology for writing Nanami angst on the “Baby’s first words” post 😔 it will never happen again (can we stop with the death threats now?)
SATORU • SUGURU • TOJI • SUKUNA • NANAMI
SATORU
Oh, your loving husband is all over you while you’re pregnant. He genuinely has such a cute fascination with all the changes your body is going through. He seriously thinks you’re so strong for carrying his heir.
He loves rubbing your bump. In fact, he will always be touching it in some form or fashion while you two are together. When he’s away on missions, he has you send him pictures and updates on your pregnancy as if anything major has changed in a couple of days.
You best believe he is ready to indulge you on your every craving, no matter how strange. It’s three a.m and you’re crying because you need that specific brand of chicken wings and a can of whip cream? He’s heading to the store immediately to fetch whatever you tell him to.
He genuinely worries about being a good dad. Many nights he lays his head on your bump and talks to you about how teaching didn’t come naturally to him. He wasn’t born knowing how to meet people where they’re at. He use to expect people to be able to meet him on his level. He worries that he may inadvertently put a lot of pressure on his kid, and that’s the last thing he wants due to how he was raised. He just wants his kid to be a kid.
He’s the best, most loving and compassionate dad to your baby, more than you could ever hope for. Even if teaching didn’t come to him naturally, being a father did.
SUGURU
He’s such a “sit down and let me do it for you” while you’re pregnant. He cooks, cleans, works, and tends to you completely throughout your pregnancy.
Suguru gets hyper fixated on your health during pregnancy. He only feeds you the yummiest and healthiest foods while you’re pregnant. He encourages for you to sit on the yoga ball and do (very) light exercises. He just wants the best for you and his baby.
Whenever I said he tends to you, I genuinely mean he tends to you. He’ll gently brush your hair at night time, rub your back when your belly is becoming heavy to carry around, serve your breakfast, lunch, and dinner in bed, carries around emesis bags and breath mints for if you get morning sickness while you two are out.
This man is the king of enforcing your boundaries to people when they don’t listen. That really annoying family member that insists on being there for the birth even though you’ve already explained to them that you want this to be an experience for just you and Geto? Yeah, he’s made it very clear to them that they will not be at the birth if they want to be in your kid’s life.
He is absolutely not afraid to hurt feelings if it means his wife and future child are safe and cared for. He really don’t give a fuck who anyone else is. You and his child are first priority.
TOJI
Toji is definitely the type to express his love and devotion for you in other ways than the most conventional methods.
He is so incredibly gentle while you’re pregnant. He doesn’t rile you up as much or play fight with you anymore. He constantly reminds himself that you’re carrying another life inside you and that you have enough on your plate.
This man… whew does he love seeing you pregnant. Toji’s the type of man to feel so feral when he looks at you heavily pregnant with his kid.
He adores your body. He’ll rub lotion all over you and oils to help your skin accommodate to the stretch of carrying a kid. He massages your body and absolutely worships it while he’s rubbing the lotion and oil on you.
Your breasts are sore? He’ll gently massage them until they feel better. Your back hurts? He’d be the type to lift your bump up and take the weight off you for as long as you ask him to so you can feel relaxed for a few minutes.
And look this is probably TMI but like, if you got a clogged milk duct due to breastfeeding, Toji would unfortunately be the type of man to fix that issue with his mouth. i’m sorry but he would.
Final thing is, you better believe that he doesn’t allow anyone to get too close to you. He is so unbelievably protective over you while you’re pregnant. If he could, he’d lock you up at home to prevent anyone from getting close to you.
SUKUNA
On the outside, he acts very nonchalant and unbothered by your pregnancy. On the inside, he is constantly plagued by the thought that your body may not be able to carry his heir. The thought of losing you or his child haunts him.
He will secretly observe and take notes on your body and how it is changing. If he catches you expressing any sort of short windedness, he will immediately send you off to bed rest. Though, you’re usually able to convince him to take you off of it by the next day.
The only servant he trusts to tend to you is Uraume. No one else in his court is allowed to be anywhere near you unless he gives specific instructions. Still, he hates leaving you in the care of Uraume. He trusts them, but he wants to be the one to take care of you.
He loves holding your body close to him at night. All four arms are wrapped around you and holding you closely. Since he doesn’t need much sleep, he will stay awake rubbing on your tummy all night long. One time, he felt the baby moving in your stomach while you were asleep. He was so intrigued that he woke you up and told you to “make them do it again”.
Now, he will randomly approach you at any given time while you’re heavily pregnant and hold his hand out so he can feel his baby moving around inside of you. It soothes his worry.
During birth, Sukuna was a complete mess. The amount of blood lost during birth fucking terrified him. He was panicking and yelling at anyone to do something to save you, even while everyone was assuring him that you’re okay and this was natural.
After 9 long excruciating months of extreme worry and constant fear, he finally feels peace when he’s cradling a newborn in his arm and a sleeping wife in the other arm. All of his hard work to protect you paid off he thinks.
NANAMI
Oh, to be pregnant by the king of domestic love himself.
Nanami is the type of man to immediately start working on a nursery for you as soon as you reveal to him that you’re pregnant. He immediately changes the guest bedroom into a nursery that you design for your little baby.
He reads up on all the parenting books and articles. He’s constantly compiling things to either do or to not do during pregnancy and even while raising a kid.
Like Geto, he tends to your every need. He is a total house husband all while working 40 hours a week. When he’s at work, he is constantly calling and texting you to make sure that you’re okay and taking care of yourself, but let’s be fr he literally did everything for you before he even left for work (meal prepped for you, set out your clothes for you, put out all your self care items in case you want to bathe).
When you express concerns of your body getting bigger to him, he does everything in his power to show you that he loves and respects your body for creating life. He literally cherishes and worships your body for hours if you let him.
Like Toji, Nanami is protective over you. He constantly has an arm around you if you two are in public, and he watches everyone who dares to get close to you like a hawk. If he gets a bad vibe about anyone, he’s immediately stepping in front of you and taking over the conversation.
Nanami is the best partner to have during birth. His reading of articles during your pregnancy really paid off. He is supportive without being overbearing. He listens to your needs and tends to you without question. Constant praise and encouragement while you’re giving birth. The moment he gets to snuggle with you and the baby is the moment he realizes that he cultivated the life of his dreams. He has the family he always wanted.
#jjk#jjk fanfic#jujutsu kaisen#fanfic#drabble#gojo satoru#jjk gojo#jjk nanami#jujutsu satoru#satoru x reader#jjk satoru#jjk suguru#getou suguru x reader#geto suguru#jjk sukuna#sukuna x reader#jujutsu sukuna#sukuna#toji x you#jjk toji#toji fushiguro#toji x reader#nanami fluff#jujutsu nanami#nanami kento#nanami x reader#jjk fluff#tooth rotting fluff#jjk drabbles
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truth serum
🌙 starring. Choi Seungcheol x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. When you’d taken this job as a handler, it hadn’t been a babysitting gig. You’d signed on to work with Seungcheol because he was supposed to be one of the best agents… supposed to be. There’d been a time, three months ago, when he’d completed a job with flying colors. The two of you had celebrated at a hotel in Paris after the success, and after two bottles of champagne, you’d actually thought you were starting to get to know the guy. But whatever inklings of a gentleman you’d seen that night had disappeared soon after, and things have been up in the air ever since. His man whoring ways are at an all-time high, and his judgment has been questionable, to say the least. Now he’s gone and gotten himself captured, and you can’t help but fear the worst.
tw/cw. Seungcheol gets truth-serumed and a little beat up, unprotected sex, dirty talk, dominant Seungcheol, power dynamics, praise, one hint of degradation that’s quickly squashed, breast/nipple play, fingering, oral, foreplay in the kitchen, bdsm subthemes, spanking as a punishment, pain kink, multiple reader orgasms, creampie/fullness kink, etc… I pet names: (hers) honey. (his) angel eyes.
👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 6.6k
🍭 aus. Secret agent au, handler reader, coworker au, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. Thank you for being patient with me this month on my svt posting for June! My birthday is on the 25th and your smiley has been busy- so grateful I could get this out, even without a teaser post :) I don't know anything about actual secret agents, but this was a fun fanfic idea I had and I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I did :)
“I’m just going to go talk to her.”
You hate how nonchalant Seungcheol sounds, hate how easily he can be swayed by pretty women, even while out on jobs. It’s your responsibility to keep him in check, the little angel on his shoulder, and in his ear. “Don’t do it,” you warn him.
“Her husband’s the target, from what I’ve seen, she’s harmless,” the agent counters.
“How easily swayed you are by pretty women, and need I remind you this isn’t the first time you’ve let a person of interest’s wife become your focus.”
“Careful, Honey, for a moment there it sounded like you were jealous.”
You’re watching Seungcheol through the casino’s live footage, a stream you’d easily hacked for the operation at hand. He’s leaning against the bar, all suave in dress pants and a white button-up that he’s left open just enough to show his prominent chest-
“That’s your third drink,” you note, changing the topic, “don’t let it cloud your judgment, Angel Eyes.”
“We both know I can hold my liquor,” Seungcheol insists, raising his glass and sending a wink toward the camera before he downs the Old Fashioned. “I’m just going to go talk to her, she could give good intel.”
You let out a deep sigh. Sometimes, being Seungcheol’s handler can be a pain in the ass. Does he ever listen to you? Not usually. Does he get the job done, though? Most of the time.
“Trust me,” Seungcheol says, voice lowering. “I’m not going to do what you think I’m going to do.”
You roll your eyes, leaning back in your chair while you scan the screens in front of you. “Seduce her James Bond style and compromise this entire thing?”
“Maybe only half of that.”
God, he’s such a womanizer, but with a face like his, and the perks that come with his job, he can afford to be.
“If this goes sideways, don’t expect me to bail you out of it.” you warn him.
“Honey, bailing me out is your job.”
You hate it when Seungcheol goes out of your visuals, and entering a hotel room with a target’s wife was not on the itinerary tonight. For the first ten minutes, you’d sat anxiously, listening in on his smooth-talking, when the woman had suggested they take things to the bedroom, part of you had wondered if you should call this whole thing off and let Seungcheol do what he always does: fuck the hot wife and sort things out later.
But when you hear a male voice, and a startled, “Who is this?” from Seungcheol, you’re glad you’d stayed anxiously glued to your computer.
A faint, “Friend of my husband,” said in a nonchalant female tone, sets you off immediately, and you’re grabbing your phone to get backup support before you can even think.
You try to take deep breaths while you listen to what sounds like a fight taking place on Seungcheol’s end, and suddenly, the wire goes dead. Now, there are no sounds, only the racing of your own heart and the blood rushing through you.
“What’s going on?” Your supervisor's voice makes you jump, and you turn to see Jeonghan standing there with Hansol, another handler.
“Cheol made a move on his target’s wife, went back to her room, but the wife brought friends. The wire is dead.”
“Fuck,” Jeonghan groans, “This is the third time this has happened to him.”
“I tried reminding him of that,” you say, your voice raising with anxiety.
Hansol offers you a sympathetic hand on your shoulder. He takes care of an agent named Seungkwan, and while Seungkwan gets into his own messes, he’s not the type to go after married women in the middle of a job.
Jeonghan’s leaning over your computer now, and he brings up the map tracker you have on Seungcheol. “I’m sending this location to another agent we have in the area,” he tells you, quickly taking the reigns of the fuck up that’s just happened.
“It’s Wonwoo, isn’t it?” you sigh. “It’s always Wonwoo cleaning up Seungcheol’s messes.”
“Yes, it’s Wonwoo,” Jeonghan admits. “We made sure he’d be in the wings tonight in case something like this happened.”
“God, this isn’t good-” you groan.
“No,” Jeonghan responds, “It’s not. After tonight I’ll have to have a serious talk with Seungcheol, and a serious talk with you about reassignment if we decide Seungcheol is a liability.”
Your heart lurches in your chest.
When you’d taken this job as a handler, it hadn’t been a babysitting gig. You’d signed on to work with Seungcheol because he was supposed to be one of the best agents… supposed to be. There’d been a time, three months ago, when he’d completed a job with flying colors. The two of you had celebrated at a hotel in Paris after the success, and after two bottles of champagne, you’d actually thought you were starting to get to know the guy. But whatever inklings of a gentleman you’d seen that night had disappeared soon after, and things have been up in the air ever since. His man whoring ways are at an all-time high, and his judgment has been questionable, to say the least. Now he’s gone and gotten himself captured, and you can’t help but fear the worst.
After a harrowing two hours, you find yourself in the med section of the agency compound. Wonwoo is stationed outside of Seungcheol’s room, and he stands straighter as you approach. “Hey, Honey,” he says, using your codename even though there’s really no reason for it right now.
“Wonwoo- how is he?” You anxiously look toward the door Wonwoo is guarding with his body.
Although you’d been connected to the whole ‘rescue Seungcheol operation,’ you’re still buzzing with anxiety. It’s unexplainable, and definitely bordering on unacceptable given the line of work you’re in, but damn it, you can’t help but care for the man you handle every day.
“Jeonghan’s with him right now,” Wonwoo responds smoothly.
Your heart thunders even louder in your ribcage. Jeonghan had mentioned Seungcheol being a liability- is he getting fired right now?
Part of you aches to be with him, to defend his stupid behaviour- but you know it’s not your place, besides, what would you even say? You’d told Seungcheol not to go after the target’s wife, and he’d done it anyway, which shows a lack of regard for handler instructions.
Seungcheol has become a liability, and you hate that things have come to this.
“What do you think is going to happen?” you ask.
Wonwoo shrugs. “That’s above my paygrade.”
He’s awfully stoic, even for a spy, and while it can be intriguing at times, right now, his deflections only frustrate you more.
You let out a sigh. “What if I asked you to guess what’s going to happen?”
Wonwoo looks at you for a moment. “I’d guess Seungcheol will be put on a break.”
“A break,” you repeat. “Like… a permanent one?”
The spy can only shrug again, a nonchalant motion that’s way too disinterested for your liking.
Jeonghan’s been trying to talk you into working as Wonwoo’s handler for a while now, and although you know Wonwoo would be much less of a hassle than Seungcheol, you can’t bare to tear yourself away from the spy whose messes you’ve been helping clean up for over a year.
Despite Seungcheol’s massive ego, and his magnetic attraction toward trouble, there’s something about him that makes you want to care for him. Sure, he never listens, especially when you give him advice about women, but Seungcheol has a certain something about him- something that you won’t give up easily.
Before you can talk further with Wonwoo, the med room door opens and Jeonghan steps out. He lets out a deep sigh, crossing his arms over his chest.
You hold your breath, waiting for your boss to give you instructions.
“This is a shit show,” Jeonghan says finally.
Neither you nor Wonwoo verbally agree with him, but brief eyecontact between the two of you makes it known what you’re both thinking.
Jeonghan addresses you next. “I’m guessing you want to go in there and talk to him.”
You can only nod.
“Look, it might not be the best idea, but fuck it.” Jeonghan uncrosses his arms, looking at you with a steady expression. “They gave Seungcheol some kind of truth serum. I don’t know how long it will be in effect, but I do know he’s vulnerable right now. I probably shouldn’t let you in there- but… I’m just going to walk down the hall to get a coffee, and if you happen to slip through the door then so be it. I didn’t see anything, and since Wonwoo is coming with me, he didn’t either.”
You stare in shock for a moment, unsure what to say. There’s nothing to be said, and when Jeonghan dispurses, Wonwoo is quick to follow.
You turn to the door, and after a deep breath, you slip inside the med room.
Seungcheol is lying in a hospital bed. His lip is battered and there’s a blossoming purple bruise around his left brow, but other than that, he looks remarkably well.
“Honey?” He sits up when you enter, eyes widening in shock.
“Cheol-” Your voice cracks as you take the seat next to the bed, and while part of you wants to reach for his hand, you hold yourself back.
“I’m sorry,” he says immediately, and those are two words you’ve never heard from him before. “You were right… about the wife.”
“That’s not important right now,” you sigh.
“It is. You’re my handler, and I didn’t listen to you, and that was wrong. If I had listened, we wouldn’t have gotten into this mess.”
You study him. You know he’s vulnerable, Jeonghan said as much, and with a truth serum impeding his ability to lie or evade questions, you want to be careful- but you also want answers, answers that you can only truly get right now.
“Why’d you do it?” you ask finally. “This time, and all the other times. You always go after the women, and I thought it was because you found it easy- seduction is what you’re good at, but- I don’t understand how you don’t see how dangerous it is.”
“Honey-”
“They’re thinking about reassigning me to Wonwoo, and before that happens, I just need to know why, Cheol. When you have the potential to be the best agent in this company, why are you always so ready to jump ship and fuck any rich married woman even though you know it will fuck everything up?”
“They can’t reassign you to Wonwoo!” Seungcheol sits up abruptly, and the heart rate monitor next to him beeps a sign of warning at his increasing pulse.
“They can do whatever they want, you should be worried about your own job. You don’t even listen to me as your handler half the time, maybe you should be with someone you actually respect.”
“I respect you,” Seungcheol blurts out.
“It doesn’t feel like you do.”
“I do,” he insists. “I-” Seungcheol’s voice cracks. “I get with women to distract myself.”
“Distractions in this line of work can be fatal.”
“You think I don’t know that?” he snaps, making you go silent. “Maybe I have a death wish.”
“Cheol-”
“Stop calling me Cheol.”
“Stop calling me Honey.”
“No.”
You glare at him, anger bubbling and inspiring you to dive deeper into your questioning, despite the fact that you know this isn’t a morally good idea. “Why do you need a distraction?”
“Because you’re a distraction. Your voice in my ear- it distracts me.”
“Maybe reassignment is a good idea.”
“You’re not being reassigned.” Seungcheol’s voice is practically a growl, and you’ve never seen this side of him.
“Why not?”
His expression breaks. “Because I need you.”
“You clearly don’t.”
“I do,” he insists. “I know I’m not good at showing it- but I do, I need you.”
“Cheol-”
“Honey.”
“Tell me why.”
“Because-” Seungcheol lets out a sigh, and he punches at the hospital bed. “Look, I’m scared, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?”
“Scared of what?”
“Of falling for you.”
“Huh?” Now you’re confused. You’re staring at this lady killer agent, the sexiest man you’ve ever met, and you can’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. “But- all the women you go after-”
“Distractions from you, from the voice in my head.” Seungcheol swallows thickly. “That night in Paris…”
Your heart lurches in your chest, and you hold your breath for the next words about to leave him.
“That night- fuck, I’ve never met someone like you before. I’ve never felt-” he bites at his lip, and you wince, knowing it must hurt to put pressure on the wound there. “I got with those other women to try to convince myself that I didn’t need you. I didn’t need your guidance, I didn’t need your care, I didn’t need you- but… I do need you.” Seungcheol meets your gaze. “I’ve needed you more than I’ve ever needed anyone, and it scares me.”
Aside from the heart rate monitor beeping through the room, you swear you could hear a pin drop as you stare at Seungcheol, trying to register everything he’s just said.
“I-”
“It’s my turn to ask a question now,” Seungcheol says. “How do you feel about me?”
“I think…” You swallow thickly. “I never understood why I stayed working with you after everything, but… maybe I understand now. Maybe I need you too.”
“Maybe?” Seungcheol flashes you a sexy smirk, and it makes you look away, hating how he makes you feel, hating how inappropriate this whole thing is.
“I’m definitely going to have to be reassigned now,” you tell him.
“What? Why?”
“You know why. This,” you point between the two of you, “this has been the liability the whole time. We’re the liability, Cheol.”
He sits and thinks about it for a moment. “Oh.”
“Yeah, oh.” You let out a laugh.
“Just… don’t work with Wonwoo, okay?”
“Why not?” You can’t help but laugh at the request.
“Because I think he’s into you.”
“Wouldn’t be the first,” you tease, standing up so you can sit on the bed, wanting to be closer to Seungcheol. “Besides,” you pinch at his chin, inspecting the wounds on his face, “Wonwoo might actually listen to me.”
“Honey,” Seungcheol slaps your hand away, instead grabbing at the back of your neck to bring your lips dangerously close to his, “don’t test me right now.”
“Or what?”
He lets out a shaky breath, his gaze dipping down to your lips. “Jeonghan’s putting me on a two-week mental health break or some shit, this isn’t even a question of ‘or what’ anymore. While I’m on leave, I’m going to fuck you stupid. I’m going to make it so you can’t even leave the fucking bed. I’m going to show you that I’m not the kind of man who receives instructions, I give them. Think you can handle it?”
God, your core is throbbing from his words alone, and you can’t muster up any for yourself. You can only nod, staring at the beautiful, bruised, stubborn man in front of you.
“You should get out of here before I bend you over this fucking bed and get us both fired.” Seungcheol releases you, leaning back to put distance between your lips.
“Do you think you’ll be released tonight?” you ask, voice quiet.
“Are you that eager to see what I’m made of, honey?” Seungcheol lets out a laugh.
“Maybe.”
“Yes, I think I’ll be out of here soon, after this stupid serum wears off. You know, this whole interrogating me while I’m vulnerable thing isn’t going to go unpunished.”
“I hope you do your worst,” you challenge him.
The agent scoffs, shaking his head. “You’re trouble.”
“Hypocrite,” you grin, standing and heading to the door. “Call me when you’re out, then you can take me home.”
You’re waiting by Seungcheol’s car in the parking garage when he comes out of the elevator. He’s dressed in black dress pants and the same white button-up he’d been wearing hours earlier. The collar is speckled with blood, the buttons undone to reveal his broad chest- his suit jacket is held in a fist, and he’s never looked sexier.
He doesn’t say anything as he approaches, closing the distance between the two of you. His hand finds your cheek, and his eyes stare into your own, your lips only inches apart. Then, he’s kissing you for the first time, a desperate, needy kiss that sets your entire body on fire.
You wrap your arms around the back of his neck, pressing your chest flush to his own. Your mouth opens instinctively, accepting the tongue that strokes by your teeth.
Seungcheol’s hand moves down to your ass, and he squeezes you roughly, pushing you back against the black jeep wrangler he’s been driving recently. The motion has you moaning against his lips, and Seungcheol breaks the kiss with a grin. His forehead rests against your own, and you both struggle to catch your breath.
“Been wanting to do that for a long time,” he tells you.
“Me too,” you admit, swallowing thickly. “So… your place?”
“My place,” he confirms, reaching behind you to open the door to his car. He grabs your hand to help you up into the tanked-out jeep, then gently shuts the door behind you.
Your heart is racing. You can’t believe you’re actually doing this.
A couple of hours ago, you’d feared the worst, and now, you desperately need good, dirty, wet sex with Seungcheol to take your mind off the anxiety that’s still coursing through you.
“So,” you clear your throat as he pulls out of the parking garage, “did you talk to Jeonghan?”
Seungcheol laughs, reaching to hold your hand while he drives. “Yes, I talked to Jeonghan.”
“Did you mention me?”
“I mentioned you a lot. Mentioned you the first time he came in to talk. He asked the same kinds of questions you did, turns out you’re the only one who was completely oblivious to the way I felt about you.”
“Well… I mean… you’re the agent, not me. Figuring out secrets is your job, I just do handler stuff.” Your skin heats at the idea that others saw his affection for you, but you’d been so blind.
“He agrees that this thing between us, whatever it is, it’s the liability, not either of us alone. He’s putting me on rest, like I said, and when you’re up for it, he’d like to reassign you to some new hire, this wizz kid named Dino or something.”
Although you know reassignment is the best thing in this situation, it doesn’t make it hurt any less. Can you really trust someone else to be Seungcheol’s handler? God, you’re feeling downright territorial of this man already-
“Yeah, I’m not too happy about it either,” Seungcheol sighs, rubbing his thumb along your hand. “Some new kid getting you in his ear- he better not fall in love with you.”
“Did you fall in love with me?” you ask.
“Truth serum has worn off, honey,” Seungcheol grins, grinning and bringing your hand to his lips. “But yes, as cliche and stupid as it sounds, I did. And don’t worry, you don’t have to say it back, I know you were all hot and bothered by me too.”
You scoff loudly.
“What was it you said earlier? I ‘find seduction easy’? Don’t pretend we’re not in the same boat here, honey.”
“God, I hate you.” You try to tear your hand away from him but he’s unrelenting.
“Liar. You love me. Love me so much you’re going to let me rearrange your guts.”
“Don’t be so vulgar,” you chastise him.
Seungcheol casts you a sideways glance. “You’re not my handler anymore, you don’t get to tell me what to do.”
Your pussy throbs at his words. The dynamic between the two of you has always been a push-pull. You were supposed to be the one giving orders, but it never felt… correct. You’d bet your life that soon, when Seungcheol has you pressed to his bed, whispering all sorts of dirty commands in your ear- well, you have no doubts that will feel more natural.
“As dominant as you like to pretend you are as a handler, I think we both know you’d rather be the submissive,” Seungcheol points out. “I can’t wait to see how good you’ll be for me.”
“Cheol-”
“Look at you, honey, a little dirty talk and you’re already a blabbering mess. Can’t find the words, can you?”
“Fuck.”
“You’re adorable,” he grins, shaking his head a little. “You’ll be good for me, I know you will be.”
You’re kissing Cheol the moment you get into his penthouse- or… is he kissing you? It’s hard to tell who moved first, all you know is that one thing leads to another and suddenly he’s hoisting you onto a kitchen counter, his hands already unbuttoning your pants.
You break your heated kiss to take a breath, looking up at the ceiling while he quickly attaches his lips to your neck. “Cheol- this is going a bit fast.”
“Is it?” He tugs your pants down, grinning against your throat. “Do you want me to slow down?”
His thumb finds your clit through your panties and you let out a whimper, clinging onto his strong shoulders.
You can’t even think right now, especially not when he begins to draw small circles against your sensitive bud, pulling away from you so he can watch your face. You open your eyes to look at him, loving the intensity in his expression.
“Tell me to slow down,” he says.
You take a breath, trying to process his words. They’d sounded like a command, so, begrudgingly, you whisper, “Slow down.”
“Too bad, I don’t listen to what you tell me to do, remember?”
He’s such a shit-
A shit that gets onto his knees to immediately burry his face between your thighs, tugging your panties to the side roughly so his tongue can make direct contact with your already throbbing pussy.
“Fuck, Cheol-” you whimper loudly, threading your fingers through his silky dark hair, your legs already shaking around his head.
“Been thinking about what you’d taste like,” Seungcheol muses, pressing a sloppy kiss to your inner thigh. “Knew your pussy would be perfect for me.”
God, his words are getting to you, your mind completely blank of a comeback as Seungcheol dives back into his task, his lips wrapping harshly around your clit.
All you can do is gasp and whine for him, writhing on his kitchen counter while he works you closer and closer to an orgasm with his tongue alone.
When he pulls away to drag two fingers up your slit, your body tenses in anticipation.
“Relax,” Seungcheol chuckles, looking up at you with that handsome grin of his, “It’s only me, honey. You’re comfortable with me…” he pushes his digits into your core, cocking a brow, “right?”
“Yes, fuck-”
“Yes, what?” He crooks his fingers, hitting your gspot and making you cry out.
“Yes, I’m comfortable with you!” you belt out, falling back onto the table so you don’t have to hold yourself up anymore. You want to feel everything he’s giving you- want him to have your full focus.
“Good girl. I think you deserve a reward for admitting that, don’t you?”
You can feel Seungcheol’s breath on your clit while he pumps his fingers, abusing the sweet spot that already has you close to the edge.
“Yeah, yes- I deserve a reward-”
Seungcheol pulls away abruptly, landing a slap to your pussy that has you squealing, your thighs closing around his hand. Your eyes snap open and you stare at him in shock.
“That sounded like a command, honey,” Seungcheol says, prying your legs apart. “Thought we agreed I’d be in charge tonight, and you know I hate being told what to do.”
“I-” you swallow thickly. “Please? Please let me cum?”
“Let you cum?” he taunts, thumb finding your clit but not applying nearly enough pressure.
“Please… make me cum?” you suggest, wanting - more than anything - to say the right thing for him.
“Because you asked so nicely.” Seungcheol flashes you a wink, and then his fingers are slipping into your wet core again, picking up where he left off. His lips return to your clit, which is practically buzzing from the slap, and before you even know it, he has you at the edge.
“Please make me cum,” you whimper desperately. “Fuck, I’m so close- please make me cum, I’ve tried to be a good girl for you- please-”
He hums a sound of confirmation, and the buzzing vibration on your clit is enough to get you there. Your pussy clamps down hard on his fingers, your back arching as waves of pleasure surge through you. Your toes curl against his broad shoulders, sounds leaving you uncensored as you fill his apartment with cries of relief.
You’re throbbing, your pussy practically dripping at this point, but Seungcheol doesn’t let up. Even when you tug on his hair to try to pull him away, he refuses to move. He finger fucks you and sucks on your clit, ignoring the way your thighs close around him, working you through your high all the way until the end.
Seungcheol finally relents when your pussy stops contracting around him, and you let out a massive sigh when he pulls away. You can feel his eyes on you, but you can’t bring yourself to look at him yet, not when you’re still feeling the aftershocks of such an intense orgasm.
You feel him begin to unbutton your shirt and his lips find the swell of your breasts as soon as it’s open. He’s soft in his kisses, gentle, tender even. “Have you come back down to earth yet, honey?” he asks, nuzzling up to your throat.
“Yeah- that was just, really good,” you let out a small laugh, threading your fingers through his hair to keep him tucked to your chest.
“That was just the appetizer, you still haven’t had the main course.”
“God, you’re so-”
“So what?” he teases. “Handsome? Charming? Lovable?”
“Sure of yourself,” you breathe.
“Let me show you something,” he prompts, reaching for your hand. He pulls away from your chest to stand up straight again, guiding your fingers to the front of his pants. His cock is straining against the fabric, and you open your eyes to see Seungcheol grinning when you gasp at how large he is. “When a man has a cock like mine, he can afford to be sure of himself.”
You shiver at his words, and it makes Seungcheol laugh. “Come on, let me take you to bed.”
He hauls you up before throwing you over his shoulder, landing a gentle spank on your ass.
“Remember when I told you I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t even be able to leave the bed?” Seungcheol prompts as he tosses you onto the mattress. “You better get comfy, honey.”
“I think…” you feel your daring side beginning to surface, eyes dipping to watch Seungcheol’s skilled fingers unbuttoning his dress shirt, “I think I also remember something about you telling me my truth serum interrogation wouldn’t go unpunished.”
The agent pauses, a huge grin spreading across his face. “You’re cute, honey.”
“Yeah?” You reach behind your body, undoing the clasp of your bra and letting it slip to the wayside. “How so?”
Seungcheol’s pupils dilate, his eyes becoming dark, lustful pools.
He doesn’t bother to answer your question, shrugging his shirt off before leaning over you, his hands pressing into the bed to box you in while his lips find yours. It’s a needy kiss, his tongue gliding out to meet your own, but you don’t mind at all.
You cup his face, moaning against him, fingers teasing over his strong shoulders.
Seungcheol is built, even for an agent. Certain men who work with you have leaner physiques, and Seungcheol is not one of them. He’s all big and broad, with lines of muscle that you could trace for hours if given the chance.
His lips begin to trail down to your throat, and you let out a whimper of anticipation when his breath fans across your pebbled nipples.
However, when he gets to your breasts, Seungcheol avoids sucking on the most sensitive spots. He looks up at you, grinning. “I think it’s time for that punishment now.”
“Yeah?” You can’t help the excitement that bubbles through you.
“I want you on your knees, ass up, and take off your panties while you’re at it.”
You know what’s coming when you follow through with the command. The cool air in the room feels nice on your newly exposed, hot core, and you make a show of everything, arching your back.
You can hear Seungcheol let out a deep breath, his hands ghosting over your ass.
“If this hurts too much, let me know.”
“Do your worst,” you counter, wiggling your hips and resting your face against the bed sheets, exhaling deeply in preparation.
You expect a harsh smack, but instead, Seungcheol presses a soft kiss to your right cheek. “I’m punishing you because you took advantage, you know that, right?”
“Uh huh, part of me knew I was being bad interrogating you while you were truth-serumed, but part of me needed to know what your answers would be.”
“Between us, I’m glad you asked the questions you did, or you might not be in my bed right now.”
“I’m glad too,” you confess. “Now, come on Angel Eyes, punish me.”
“I love a woman who takes what she deserves with grace.”
“After this, I deserve your cock.”
“Do you now?” Seungcheol lets out an amused chuckle, grabbing your ass with both hands and squeezing.
“Maybe you deserve my pussy,” you muse thoughtfully.
“Now that’s something I can definitely get behind,” he agrees. “Count these out for me, honey, I’ll give you ten.”
The first smack makes you recoil in surprise, the sound flooding your senses before the sharp pain that blossoms across your skin.
“One,” you announce, balling your hands into the bed sheets.
“How did that feel?” he asks, gently smoothing his palm across the still-burning flesh.
“Good.”
The next hit is a little harder and it makes you whimper, but you do your best to stay steady, unmoving, ready to take what you deserve. “Two.”
Three and four come on your other cheek, and you’re thankful for the reprieve, but smack number five returns to the first side he’d battered, and it stings even more now. However, it’s a pleasantly hot sensation, and your core throbs knowing you’re halfway through your punishment, all the more close to your reward.
“You look like you’re enjoying this too much,” Seungcheol muses, groping your ass again, squeezing hard enough to hurt.
“Maybe I am,” you tell him, looking over your shoulder at the agent.
He grins down at you, lifting a hand- your body flinches involuntarily, and Seungcheol’s smile widens. “Getting sensitive already, huh?”
“Yes,” you admit.
The next slap lands on your pussy, something you hadn’t been expecting, and a squeal of delight erupts out of you at the sensation on your clit.
“You liked that, didn’t you?” Seungcheol asks.
“Uh huh,” you nod, clenching the bed sheets even tighter.
“How's your clit feeling after one orgasm?” he prompts, thumb finding the sensitive bud and rubbing it in small circles.
“Feels so good,” you whimper.
“You’re practically dripping, honey, didn’t take you for a pain slut.”
“Be nice,” you chastise him.
“Oh?”
Another smack lands on your ass and you dutifully call out “Six.”
“You don’t like being called a little pain slut?” he asks.
“No,” you shake your head. “Please call me nice things.”
“Okay, honey, I can do that,” he concedes, and the next spank isn’t as hard as the last. “You’re being so good for me. We’re almost done.”
“Can’t wait for you to fuck me, I’ve been waiting so long-”
“We’ll get there,” Seungcheol promises, leaning down to press a kiss to your lower back. When he pulls away, number “Eight” comes quickly thereafter.
Your skin is buzzing with anticipation now, and you’re nearly writhing against the bed, but you do your best to be as still as possible while Seungcheol completes this punishment focused foreplay.
After smack number nine, you hear Seungcheol undo his belt, and it takes everything inside of you not to turn around and get a good look at his cock.
He smacks his length gently against your ass, and you let out a small, “Ten?”
He laughs. “No, honey, this is ten.”
The sound of the slap echoes through his room, the hardest of them all so far, and you release a strangled cry, your ass on fire from where he’d hit you.
“That was the pain, now here’s the pleasure.” He rubs his cock through your wet folds, and slips the tip inside, stretching you out wonderfully. The sensation distracts from your sore bum, and your whimper becomes a moan as he drives deeper and deeper into you. “Tell me you like it.”
“I love it,” you blurt, already pushing back toward him in an effort to feel everything.
You’re not sure how big he is, only that he’s bigger than anyone you’ve ever been with, but after the tension of your punishment, and the orgasm before that, your pussy greedily swallows up everything he has to give until he’s flush to your still stinging ass.
“Fuck,” Seungcheol cusses, gently grabbing at your hips. “How’s that feel?”
“I feel so full,” you tell him, pussy fluttering around his cock.
“I’ll make you feel fuller,” he promises.
“Yeah?”
“You’re on birth control?”
“Uh huh.”
“Then I’ll definitely fill you up, mark this pussy as all mine, are you okay with that?”
“More than okay with it,” you moan.
“That’s my good girl,” Seungcheol praises you, beginning to thrust.
“Fuck-” you whimper, loving the feeling of his cock dragging along your inner walls.
Your eyes are closed, your focus entirely on Seungcheol as he starts to fuck you, rougher and rougher until his balls are slapping against your clit with each motion.
“Your pussy feels so good,” he tells you, grip tightening on your hips. “It’s like you were made for me, honey.”
The idea causes a visceral reaction, your entire body thrumming with pleasure. You can only moan in response, beginning to move back so you can meet each one of his thrusts.
“And this ass-” One of Seungcheol’s hands moves to cup your sensitive flesh, making you groan even louder. “Fucking perfect. Rub your clit for me, want you to cum again.”
Your hand is shaky as you bring it between your legs, finding your sensitive clit. Your core clenches desperately around Seungcheol and he lets out a deep moan of appreciation.
“That’s my good girl, being so good for me. So good at taking orders.”
You can’t help but let out a small laugh. It’s as if things were always meant to be this way, you were meant to let him be in control, not the other way around. This feels so much more natural than you telling him what to do ever did.
“Don’t laugh,” Seungcheol chastises you, fucking you even harder. “I’m trying to be nice to you, like you wanted.”
“I just-” you groan when his cock slams into your gspot. “It was never supposed to be me telling you what to do.”
“I’m glad we agree on something,” Seungcheol muses, his motions slowing ever so slightly. “Fuck this, I want to see you.”
He pulls out of your pussy, flipping you onto your back. The contact of the bed against your ass makes you groan, but the sight of Seungcheol’s perfect body looming over you has you distracted less than a moment later.
His cock is big… cut, curving slightly to the left, with a prominent vein that you want to trace with your tongue-
He presses the head of his length to your pussy, easing himself into you while he positions you in missionary. When he’s fully inside of you again, he meets your gaze, then he looks down at your lips.
“You’re so pretty like this,” he whispers before pressing his mouth to yours.
You grab at his strong shoulders, getting lost in the kiss as he begins to fuck you again, the whole bed shaking with the power of his thrusts.
You’ve never made sounds like this in bed before. You’re moaning like a whore, but Seungcheol eats up every whimper, his tongue gliding against your own.
Your fingers thread through his hair, keeping him close as he fucks you closer and closer to the edge.
The agent pulls away, breathing heavily. “I can feel you clenching, honey, gonna cum again?”
“Gonna cum on your big cock,” you tell him.
“Yeah?”
One of his hands slips between your bodies, fingers applying pressure to your clit.
You whimper loudly, back arching off the bed. Seungcheol takes the opportunity to finally draw your nipple into his mouth, his teeth grazing over the sensitive bud.
You gasp, body on fire from all the wonderful sensations. “I’m so close-” you tell him.
“Then cum for me,” he murmurs, rubbing your clit even harder. “Cum on my cock.”
It only takes a few more seconds for you to follow through with his command, the cord snapping in your stomach as your release takes over. Your pussy clamps down on Seungcheol, and when he lets out a groan, you know your body is milking him for every drop of cum that he has.
His thrusts have become sloppier, more erratic, deeper- and each one has him kissing your cervix, which is a delightful feeling.
You hold him to your breast through your high, and he diligently sucks on your nipple, fucking you until he can’t fuck you anymore.
Finally, Seungcheol slumps down against you, applying some of his weight over you like a weighted blanket.
He’s panting hard against your breasts, cheek pressed to the center of your chest.
“Your heart is going wild, honey,” he muses after a moment.
All you can do is laugh, unable to find the words just yet after the power of your release.
Instead, you stroke his hair, and Seungcheol lets out a murmured moan, nuzzling closer to you. “I do love you, you know.”
“I know.”
He chuckles. “You aren’t going to say it back?”
“Take me on a date first,” you tease.
“Tomorrow, if you can still walk, I’ll take you out.”
“You promise?”
“I promise.” He presses a kiss to your sternum. “If you can’t walk, I’ll bring the date to you.”
“How romantic,” you say sarcastically.
“Don’t start with me, honey,” he warns.
“I’m not starting anything,” you defend yourself with a giggle.
He looks up at you, eyes sparkling. “Sure you’re not.”
You lean down to kiss him gently, loving how domestic this whole thing has turned. But of course, ever the sex fiend, Seungcheol quickly ruins it. “Give me ten minutes and I’ll fuck you again.”
You can’t help but shake your head. “You promise?”
“If you’re going to talk back like this, make it five.”
He’s such a fuck, but you kind of love him.
☀️ mlist + an. Thank you so much for reading! I know recently I've been doing a lot of short and sweet fics, hoping for a longer one next month :)
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🔮 preview. “We tried letting you be in control,” he responds, pushing your legs together as he straddles you from behind. “It wasn’t as fun as me being in control though."
cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, dom/sub themes, powerplays, Seungcheol tries to be a little submissive, he’s not great at following directions, dirty talk, fingering, multiple reader orgasms, blow job, mention of deep throating, nipple play/nipple pinching, creamipie, cumming together, etc… I petnames. (hers) honey
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.2k I teaser wc. 175
🌙 starring. Seungcheol x afab!Reader
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“Hey, big guy,” you grin as you enter the apartment, eyes finding Seungcheol sitting on the living room couch. “How was your day?”
He pauses his show to look at you, flashing a tired smile. “It was okay.”
“Yikes,” you immediately go to join him on the couch, cuddling up to his side. “The new handler still being a bit of a dick?”
“Joshua was hand-picked by Jeonghan, it’s not like I can do anything about it,” Seungcheol sighs. “How about you, still enjoying the wizz kid?”
“Dino’s a good one,” you insist. “He follows instruction very well.”
Seungcheol scoffs, rolling his eyes.
“You still jealous that I’m in his ear and not yours?” you tease, poking your boyfriend’s chest.
“Don’t go there, honey,” he warns.
“Come on- it could be fun. I think having someone who listens well has built my confidence… you know, we could try it out a little, if you want.”
“You want me to be submissive?” Seungcheol’s brows raise in a sort of shocked amusement. “Not a chance in hell.”
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𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐕𝐄 | Marcus Acacius x reader
↝ masterlist | requests? | ao3 | update blog | fic rec | ko-fi
summary | once your dad's greatest friend, now his greatest enemy. you cannot shake the desire and care you feel for the fallen general, even as he heads toward death.
author's note | LISTEN, none of this is going to be accurate. and frankly idc, i'm horny i needed to write this do not come at me. no source material? idc i'm still writing it. anyways, enjoy the p*rn. (if you're reading this prior to the movie coming out, none of this is canon. this is just an idea that i wanted to write and felt like posting, if you do not like the idea of writing without source material, please do not engage or send me asks to be combative, they will be deleted. i won't be continuing this specific fic and will not be writing for him again until the movie comes out.)
content warning | 18+ smut, this is dbf for the gladiator girlies (gn), sneaking around, descriptions of smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected piv, creampies, breeding kink, age gap (reader is early 20s, marcus is late 40s/early 50s), alcohol tw, innocence kink
word count —2k
You knew he would be here soon, he must.
You curled into the dark corners of the arena hall, having been here since dawn with your own father, a high military commander who struck down Marcus as punishment for such things even he wouldn’t tell you about. You knew nothing, heard nothing—you weren’t allowed such privilege.
It has been days since you last saw him—Marcus. General Acacius to many, another esteemed leader amongst the masses, and a once great friend to your father. Though, that was no longer.
You often called him sir, finding that General Acacius was quite the mouthful. Or often just General, but his endearment toward you was blatant and he insists, almost pleading that you drop the formality when alone. Which was easier, as your fondness of him grew.
It started at a celebration, one of the many grand parties thrown in celebration of fight won or any reason for the men to drink, but Marcus liked to linger. Often tucked away in a corner watching the madness unfold, you were too curious to stay locked up in your room.
The first night he caught your eye, it was a smile around the edge of his silver goblet drowning in red wine, a hand crossed over his chest as he watched you slip away in fear that he may say something to your father.
But, he never did.
For weeks after, it progresses. From a smile, to a lingering gaze, eventually he finds himself inching closer to you, week by week. Until one night he finally finds the courage in himself to be waiting by the corner you often sneak around, watching curiously.
“You are pushing it, dove.” He speaks softly, his eyes downturned to look at you from the step he was on above you, slowly inching down until he was level, “if he catches you—”
“He hasn’t,” You tell him in a clipped, hushed tone, “and you haven’t said anything. You won’t….will you?”
He bypasses the question, “Why do you come here?” Marcus curiously asks, “These men, they are—animals, if they see you dressed like that, they would not hesitate to—”
You had on a pale nightgown, thin and barely enough to cover your modesty but it was enough. The sticky, summer heat prickled your skin, formed a line of sweat across your brow and you huffed out at his words, “My father would murder them. Besides, you are not like them. So, why do you linger here?”
He was much more than a friend, closer and akin to family.
But, he had his own troubles. Stepson, a wife, he should be away caring for them. Yet, he was there with a disgruntled scowl and eyes only set on you.
“Why not?” He shrugs, “It is…quite entertaining. Isn’t that why you sneak around here to watch?”
You mimic his shrug, shying away slightly as you pull away to leave, but his hand catches your wrist, his cup placed in the gap of pillars separating you both. His facial expressions show an internal battle of thought, like he’s fighting against the bad and hoping the good would win out.
Unfortunately, the bad prevails.
“Let us walk,” He tells you, nodding toward the exit a few feet away, “if you would accompany me?”
You nod eagerly, switching the grip on your wrist to curl around his bicep, muscular and hard from years of fight training. He flexes slightly at the touch, covering his free hand over yours in a comforting gesture.
He made you feel safe. And that was all that mattered to you.
—
The walk was the first mistake.
It wasn’t more than a few minutes before you found yourself tucked away by a nearby tent, unbuckling and unfastening Marcus out of his gear hastily before he fucked you under your nightgown—gentle but firm. He was the first man, the first ever to have you in such a way. You’d told him so as your hands shook under the weight of his gaze, the taste of bitter wine on his lips. He’d kissed you as he pushed his cock inside of you and didn’t stop until you were tipping over the edge.
Over time, you grow bolder. Sneaking him back into your home was easy, knowing the guards weren’t as watchful in the late, late hours of the night. It was dangerous, reckless, but as you tug him down into the cellar and sink to your knees, it all fades away quickly.
His little dove, he often calls you. Sweet dove, so pure and innocent. His hand caresses your chin as you swallow him down, eyes locked on his half-lidded gaze before he comes down your throat, nose scrunching up slightly and his brow furrowing, biting at the back of his other hand to muffle the groan that escapes him.
It was always like this—hurried and quick fucks that didn’t diminish the feeling, but reminded you how easily you could both be caught. It continues for months…and months, until suddenly he stops coming around.
No parties, no visits—Marcus had become a ghost.
But, enough digging had led you here, tucked away in the shadows again—but watching as he fought for his life. The other man was much older, weaker, and Marcus struck him down within a matter of minutes, blood splattering across his face as he stuck again and again, bashing the poor man’s skull in until it was nothing, teeth gritting as his body surged with adrenaline.
Gladiator fighting wasn’t a new thing—and you knew he wasn’t the only one, but why?
He’s making his way down the arena toward the pillar you are tucked behind unknowingly, alone and battered as the guards run off to dispose of the body. You aren’t sure where Marcus is going now or when you would see him again, but you take the chance when you know no one is watching, grabbing him by the armor plate on his chest and pulling him away and into a dusty closet, knocking into a stack of buckets in the process.
You gasp as his hand wraps around your neck, fist cocked back in preparation of an attack.
But, then his eyes land on you.
“Dove, what are you—”
You shush him quickly, hands molding against his face and the dried blood, his breathing quick and short as you attempt to calm him.
“I had to see you—I thought…I thought you had—”
“I might as well be,” Marcus replies somberly, “we cannot meet like this. We cannot meet at all.”
“It’s fine, It’s fine–” You assure him, reaching forward to press your lips against his.
Marcus pulls away hesitantly, grabbing your face roughly until you look at him, eyes widening.
“They will kill you. I cannot see you again. I should not even be here with you.”
Your eyes well with tears, forcing yourself forward again to capture his lips and this time he allows it, opening his mouth slightly as your tongue dips inside, working silently at the buckles to his chest plate.
“No talking. Let us…enjoy this. If it is the last time.”
You were both well aware—he would fight for his life or die, that was it. And he would fight until that point came. He was no longer a General, completely stripped of his power. But, he was still Marcus. And you would hold onto that for as long as you could.
He’s shaking, the adrenaline raking his body and making him restless as you kissed him, tongue dipping into his mouth again as his hands roamed, squeezed, caressed.
“I will not break,” You whisper into his mouth, “take what you need, Marcus.”
It was all he needed to hear, turning you around swiftly and forcing your down with a hand against your back, arms pressing into the shelf in front of you as he pushed up the silk, carefully woven and intricate fabric of your dress—so pristine and perfect. He wanted to rip it off you, be he refrains, squeezing at your hips while he kneels behind you.
“Marcus, you need not—”
“Quiet, little dove. Let me have this,” He licks against your cunt hungrily, noisy slurps as he lapped you up, squeezing less than gentle at the inside of your thighs as they shook, his tongue swiping over your clit, a broken moan slipping past your lips, “beautiful—let me hear you.”
“Marcus,” You plea, his fingers joining his tongue as they breached you and drag against the soft, but incredibly sensitive spot inside of you, your hand reaching for his wrist tucked between your legs as you whined out his name once more, twice, until your legs gave out, feelings his strong, broad shoulders flexing as he used his brute strength to keep you upright, licking up the gush of fluids that leak out of you, rising with haste and untucking himself from his garments, wrapping a gentle hand around the back of your neck before he’s pulling you upright harshly.
“Want to leave you something,” He whispers against the shell of your ear, “something to remember me, if I shall never leave here. Something of me for you to carry on. Alright, sweet dove?”
You nod knowingly, as Marcus had always been careful to pull himself out before breaching that point. He was always careful, hesitant—but being on the brink of death, he found himself careless and desperate. He couldn’t let you go.
He slips inside of you with a hand tucked around your throat, pulling your back to his chest as he snapped his hips into you firmly, groaning lewdly into the side of your neck as he bit down, squeezing at your throat with every soft sound you made and you want it just as bad, forcing your hips back into every push of his cock—you were positive this pain would last you into next week, but you needed that reminder. His fingers dip into your skin, hard and uncaring and sure to leave marks, but that was what you wanted.
And his groans quickly turn needy, more high-pitched than you’ve ever heard them
He’s holding back, restraining himself. You turn your head, catching his heated gaze as he pants, your thumb tracing over his lip. His hand drags over your stomach, rests, curious of how beautiful you would look swollen and carrying his child.
It is a hopeful and distant dream, one that he will never foresee.
“Give it to me, Marcus,” You beg him, “I want it.”
It so easily undoes him, “Take it, my dove,” He growls, coming deep inside of you with a shaky thrust of his hips, squeezing you tight against him, “I think of you, always. You must know—know that.”
It pulls at your heart, tugs in a way that makes your entire body ache. He pulls out with a low grunt, silently tucking himself away as you adjust your dress.
“And I love you,” You admit, watching as his gaze pulls up quickly, “even if you cannot say it back. I know. I know you do.”
Marcus breathes harshly through his nose, crowding you once more but it is soothed by a gentle kiss, “You need to leave—do not come back here.”
“Marcus,” You counter, sadness lacing your tone.
“If, by some miracle, I make it out of here,” He drags his thumb along your jawline, pausing on his words as he looks you over, memorizes you, “I will find you.”
You nod jerkily, eyes never breaking from his, “Just like you always have.”
divider creds: @/cafekitsune
thanks to @chaotic-mystery & @pr0ximamidnight for being the absolute best friends ever and beta'ing this for me on a moments notice, ily both.
#pedro pascal#pedro pascal characters#marcus acacius#marcus acacius x reader#marcus acacius x you#marcus acacius x y/n#gladiator 2#marcus acacius smut#gladiation 2 fanficition#marcus acacius fic#marcus acacius fanfiction#my writing#ANYWAYS
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THANK YOU!!!!!
Warriors singing The Underworld
That is all
#i've been tempted to make this post since like january#when i first heard the first snippets#i said: that's wars#but didn't know if i should say it aloud#ngl#i listen to the angsty odyseuss songs whenever I need help writing wars#ESPECIALLY the war trauma#and missing his wife and son#did i do that on purpose?#no#but you can pry the similarities from my cold dead hands#TBoHH Wars is Odysseuss coded to teh best of my ability#and i love him like that :)#he's just....#closer to his underworld arc when the story picks up then he is to his troy arc
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i’m getting older too | hozier
is this random? yes but i don’t care 🥰 LISTEN I KNOW sweet dreams, tn is a song by the last shadow puppets but let’s just use our imagination with this one ok? 😍
faceclaim orion carloto
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liked by billieeilish, carolamtz and 2,366,780 others
yourusername married the love of my life!
billieeilish BEAUTIFUL BRIDE 🤍🤍🤍
bellahadid beauty ✨
lilizneimer congratulations!!
landonorris am i still grounded?
yourusername we’re all good now 🤍
honeymoon such a beautiful ceremony ❤️ in love with your love
ynstyle was every celebrity and f1 driver at this wedding?😭
cherrywin3 girl apparently stevie nicks even performed 😔😭
formulatears I NEED TO KNOW WHAT SHE SANG
cherrywin3 landslide because it’s y/n’s favorite song 😭 y/n’s mom just posted a video of y/n crying while stevie sang it’s too precious 🥹
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liked by landonorris, honeymoon and 2,665,890 others
hozier y/n, my heart is, and will always be, yours. ‘sweet dreams, tn’ a gift from me to my beautiful wife.
hozierarchive HE DROPPED AN ALBUM DURING HIS WEDDING??
ynspodium not just any album but an album full of songs that y/n loves covered by him and some original songs too!!
leclercstype STEVIE NICKS, LANA, LORDE, THE LAST SHADOW PUPPETS, NOAH KAHAN, LORD HURON HE GATHERED THE DEPRESSION AVENGERS AND MADE AN ALBUM FOR HIS WIFE 😭
f1wagsstyle WHEN WILL IT BE MY TURN??
yourmomsusername y/n is currently sobbing listening to the album!
ynwdc not mama l/n exposing her daughter 😭 but same!
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yourusername 🇮🇪❤️☘️🎵🫶🏼✨💍👰♀️🤵♂️🤍
landonorris did you have a seizure or….?
yourusername you’re grounded again let me be in love with my hot irish husband on my honeymoon
landonorris you keep that to yourself
f1maeve my brother started watching f1 because of you!! (and he’s hoping to see hozier at a race)
yourusername thanks to your brother!! maybe andrew will finally make an appearance soon 🤍
crybabyprimadonna what’s your favorite song from sweet dreams, tn?
yourusername don’t make me choose!!😭 they all have my heart (but andrew’s cover of landslide with stevie is amazingly beautiful)
hozier wofe
hozier wufe
hozier ife
hozier wafie
hozier woife
yourusername handsome squidward 😍❤️
hozier wife ❤️
charles_leclerc i have no idea what’s going on
yourusername you wouldn’t understand ❤️
#hozier#hozier x reader#hozier imagine#hozier fanfiction#hozier fanfic#hozier one shot#f1 driver!reader#f1 x reader#formula 1 imagine
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