#and that would take care of like 90% of their problems
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Hello my friends❤
I am Diana, the mother. I live in Gaza, and like the rest of the population here, I am waiting for a glimmer of hope. I, like the rest of the mothers in the world, want to save my child and my family from the death that follows us every second here in Gaza. I want to tell you about my life and how it has changed because of the war.
My child, Ashraf, is a resident of the Gaza Strip. Before October 7, I was holding my little boy, Ashraf, and imagining what our future would be like. It took us 5 years until we were able to conceive him. However now, instead of enjoying motherhood, I am constantly terrified for him. Since October, we have been displaced several times from Nuseirat, then Rafah, then to Al-Zawaida. During the movement, little Ashraf has been exposed to many health problems due to pollution and lack of food. He suffers from intestinal diseases, in addition to eczema, which has plagued him since his childhood. He is a smart and innocent child who needs your help to survive.
Before October, I was thinking carefully how I would be able to divide my time between taking care of him and my work as a content writer for a Gaza company. My husband, Mahmoud, worked as a truck driver before the war. But then the war interrupted our plan, demolished our house, our car, and we lost our jobs. As so many others, I took refuge with my husband and child Ashraf in a tent that is not suitable for long-term human living.
We kindly appreciate any amount of support, big or small.
@90-ghost @sayruq @sar-soor @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @just-browsings-world @nabulsi27 @gazavetters @gazagfmboost @gazanarchive @palestinecharitycommissionsassoc @palestinegenocide @vakarians @thishartominefeelz @acepumpkinpatrick @palestine @13ag21k @the-bastard-king @boyvandal-blog @apsswan @youdontknowwhothisisokay-blog @sealuai @palipunk-blog @malcriaada @acepumpkinpatrick @watermotif @pcktknife @dykesbat @deathlonging @briarhips @dirhwangdaseul-archived @mahoushojo
@boobieteriat @guldaastan @acehimbo @riotbard @rhubarbspring @butchmagicalboi @mistress—kanzaki @lesbianmaxevans @heydreamchild @c-u-c-koo-4-40k @oceanmonsters @disinfobot @feralparsnip @noble-kale @maester-cressen @imjustheretotrytohelp @myceliacrochet @autisticmudkip @dirhwangdaseul @shrinkthisviolet @komsomolka @gabajoofs @meshugenist @seasonofprophecy @afc-agitprop @error-core-animations @trans-lunarinjection @butchniqabi @milfstalin @anissapierce @neptunerings @dykesbat @batricity @communist-ojou-sama @jolyne-best-jojo @xxx-sparkydemon-xxx @a-shade-of-blue @akajustmerry @leviathan-supersystem @fleshdyk3
#free gaza#gazavetters#artists on tumblr#cats of tumblr#free palestine#captain curly#gravity falls#stanley pines#jujutsu kaisen#bucktommy#agatha all along#cat#halloween#batman#anya mouthwashing#dan and phil#stanford pines#agatha harkness
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I keep drinking coffee thinking it's gonna make me Productive and then instead of doing the work I actually have to do I just compulsively make spreadsheets :(
#my homework is. not done#but!!! i just realized if i take 2 spanish classes i can have a russian/spanish major instead of just russian#(it's complicated but this would leave me with: double major languages and history with a joint major in asian middle east studies)#(plus a minor in religious studies and concentration in islamicate studies)#first i gotta: relearn spanish for like the third time#but it's ok i'm hopping thru spain in less than a month so i should proooobably do that anyway#man when i was touring colleges my mom was like really dismissive about the idea of double majoring and now i'm here like#How Many Things Can I Stack Up To Get Big Number On Transcript#aaaaaaaand because of ames requirements i did the dumb thing and ended up learning persian while my spanish is still kinda iffy#итак совершилося то что я пытался предотвратить as they say#so i'm just gonna have to study two languages at once next semester... or just keep going thru the cycle of relearning them abt every year#my russian is a big girl it can survive on its own but i now gotta feed the babiessssss#tho ig what this kinda cyclically learning and forgetting spanish has taught me is like#languages are less like babies and more like those lil desert plants that wither up when they don't have any water#they might look dead but they're nearly impossible to kill completely#and will bounce right back after a lil care n patience. i just gotta like.... water em#the one thing standing in my way is ideological opposition to my spanish textbook#i have to pay $200 for access to a *website*#*i don't even get a book just a shitass ebook*#but it's ok one of the spanish profs likes me i think? i think she would let me skip the intro lit class#only problem is it was Genuinely Hard for me to follow along when i audited advanced lit... 90% of the class was heritage speakers#tho ig like. having taken a class meant for native russian speakers should help w learning to survive that kinda thing#genuinely i think i can do it#just gotta make that my goal. study. do it for zapata#and if i wanna go into translating... having good spanish should help right? like if i finally get b2 spanish?#yeah. if i could do kazakh history for native russian speakers i can do spanish lit for heritage spanish speakers. it's equivalent enough#but ok i'm gonna visit my buddy in spain who did nearly the exact same shitass majors combination as me#tho i think he did spanish/arabic for his language major and just Happens To Also Be Fluent In Russian cuz he's Like That#it's ok he's two years older than me i have two years to become that cool#he can tell me what to do
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Homestcuk characters being nice to each other and caring so so so much abt each other and getting over their destructive patterns for each other YouTube compilation, fifty MILLION hours long‼‼‼‼
#hs#going post#THEY WOULD NEVER DRIFT APART AS ADULTS. THEY WOULD NEVER AVOID CALLING OUT EACH OTHERS BULLSHIT#LONG ENOUGH UNTIL ITS TOO LATE#THEY TALK ABT THEIR FEELINGS SO FUCKING MUCH IYS LIKE THEIR FAVORITE HOBBY#aside from fuckig around. very silly guys they are. but ALSO they CARE SO MUCH‼‼‼‼‼‼‼‼‼‼‼‼#for however much them being assholes can fill a book half as long as homestuck....#them being friends who care and care and care in all their different ways takes up like 90℅ of homestuck#and i mean obv theyre not perfect. im never going to say that they DONT let things slide or avoid communicating problems#like that happens so much#but you know what is a constant undercurrent present during even their most estranged moments? LOVE!!!!!!!#FRIENDSHIP!!!!!!!!!!!
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At the point where I'm not sure what is Symptoms (of what? my brain is generating a dozen horrible possibilities), what is anxiety, and what is exhaustion--though the anxiety is happily seizing on all of them to be more dire Symptoms, which is not exactly helping me get to sleep to resolve the exhaustion.
#yes i would like some cheese with my whine#i do not want to go to the er when i'm 90% certain the problem is dental#but i sure am going to be ringing up the urgent care before i take any more of the steroids tomorrow#and then the dentist's emergency pager#prayer circle that he won't make me wait until monday (or beyond)
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Sorry to everyone who's ever spoken to me on RA because I was just looking at an email for work and a DM for RA and realized I'm using the same professional tone for both.
#i talk#sideblog shenanigans#It's not necessarily a BAD thing but#It's too serious for a frickin Tumblr sideblog#I had this problem with GHQ too o(-( I am incapable of not running a large sideblog like I would a professional social media account#90% of the time anyways#I think it can sometimes come across as a “teacher tone” too#Which reminds me – funny story time#I was working on a project with some of my younger coworkers (including the youngest / newest one)#And I kept having to rephrase things for them so they understood that no; I'm not giving them extra work to do; I'm taking care of things#and then the thought of ''Oh my gosh. They think I'm giving them homework'' suddenly hit me and I was like [SCREAMS]#All of them came from crappy job backgrounds so I'm constantly reassuring them that no we don't do that here and yes I WILL help with stuff#''Girl I've been there go take a damn break and let me take care of this''#job talk#I think it was mostly because I was talking about all these ideas and they thought they were going to have to do it even though I was like#''Ok I'm giving myself a deadline to send it to you by ___ so keep an eye out for that!''#I dunno man. The workplace trauma for all of us runs deep#This place is by no means perfect (DEFINITELY not perfect. Many issues)#But it's still better than any other place I've worked at#Even if I hate one coworker he's never in the office and the rest of my team is great#Pay sucks though and I am still looking for a new job because of that#o(-(#Anyways this whole thing was prompted by something I'm posting for RA tomorrow to boost the cool VOD Archive the community did
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so many blogs on here seemingly with a cult following for solely posting about dresses & fruit & their unemployment struggles whilst being very cutesy about it & everyone else sends messages like "oh you're so unique & irreplaceable" well probably this is true but also I would not know from how they post. feels like elementary school when girls would say this to each other & frankly they all were very boring! I'm not bored by the tumblr girlies I think they are all fascinating but in the way watching koi in a pond is fascinating... I don't really like modern ballgowns & I can't afford most fruit & I don't struggle with unemployment I excel at it so. maybe that's the difference between you & I miss lanalvr777
#I kinda get jealous of the solidarity so many young women seem to have (not materially but like. having compassion for one another)#my disabilities + my queerness make it hard for people to connect with me even when I'm really friendly#I don't mean that specifically people with more normative identities exclude me (though they do...)#I just mean I have real communication challenges & a lack of interest in the social dynamics that are easiest to learn#it takes a lot of effort for me to find people who care about me let alone can maintain a friendship with me#& they usually are people who demand more and have more needs within a friendship which is also limiting (not their fault)#so I just burn out of social life all the time#& I know what I want! I know what would fix it! I know what I need from my friends! but NONE of them are capable of it#it hurts so bad#I don't feel like I can even complain about it because obviously I'm just hard to love. but I love hard-to-love people all the time :(((#why am I not worth it?#I wish I had disposable income from part time work that would fix 90% of my problems literally within a week#but nooooooo we must toil for poverty conditions#and be lonely while doing it#vent#<- in case anyone blocks this type of drivel#in which thon speaks
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Arcane preference reacting to a s/o with a mental health issues (eating)
My disclaimer, as someone with this issue, I’m sorry if this isn’t what you wanted. I’ve actually been thinking about it for a while, but I was a bit cowardly about doing it, so I’m taking the opportunity now. I don’t want to go out of character, so I’m sorry if some characters come across as harsher than others. Unfortunately, I know I should write the name of the illness, but if I post it that way, Tumblr will take it down.
Jayce:
- He’s academically intelligent, but it takes him far too long to notice that something’s wrong. But you can’t blame him, it’s something so far removed from him that he couldn’t have understood it sooner.
- When he does realize, his first reaction is panic.
- Jayce can’t feel like just a blade of grass; he feels emotions deeply, taking on any blame, especially if something happens to the people he loves. His first thought is that he did something to make you feel that way, inadequate.
- But once the panic phase ends, the responsibility phase begins.
- He does the grocery shopping, he cooks, and his workouts become more regular, where he has you climb onto his back while doing push-ups or holds you in his arms during other exercises.
- He doesn’t know why you do it, but the quickest way to show you that your weight isn’t a problem is by showing you how easily he lifts you.
- And maybe, if you feel up to it, he can hold you in his arms with one arm supporting you while he cooks, letting you taste various ingredients.
Viktor:
- Unlike Jayce, it only takes two suspicious behaviors in a row for him to understand what’s happening. It’s something far from his world, sure, but he recognizes it.
- And he confronts you. He doesn’t beat around the bush, doesn’t stammer; he might even sound angry because he doesn’t understand why you’d hurt yourself like this and willingly give up your well-being.
- I won’t lie, I doubt that an open discussion about something this delicate with him wouldn’t lead to at least one hysterical cry.
- But he’s not brutal for the sake of being brutal; his suffering and frustration turn into anger. It takes him a while to calm down, but he won’t accept compromises.
- You’ll have meals together at home, either returning to your rooms together or straight to the house, so no one can see you and you won’t feel bad.
- And he won’t force you, he tries to handle it with as much care as possible, but there’s no day that goes by without him getting up from the table if you haven’t eaten at least two food items per meal.
- He loves you too much to see you hurt yourself in that way, and knowing that he can't do anything about it makes him feel powerless.
Ekko:
- It takes him a week—not to understand, but to process it.
- Having grown up in total poverty, the idea of giving up food “for whim” makes him react in a way that is only human.
- And the whole thing is too distant for him: everyone’s skin is grayish, 90% of the population of the Lanes has missing limbs and monstrous prosthetics, and everyone’s goal is to survive as long as possible. What does it mean that you’re against your own survival??
- As unsupportive as he might be regarding the issue, he becomes incredibly vigilant and concerned.
- He’ll always make sure you’re warm enough, that you’re comfortable, and no matter how frustrated he is, he’ll always try to stay close to you, even just holding you in bed until you fall asleep.
- Every single comment you make about your body, he’ll respond with, “Don’t talk about my partner like that,”
- no one can speak badly of you, not even you.
Vander:
- The most understanding: he was young once too, and although in his size meant an advantage, he and Silco snuck into various galas when they were younger, and there, even though he never had these problems, he would feel a strange sensation seeing that he was the biggest in the room or that it was hard to find someone to steal clothes from that would fit him.
- He doesn’t lecture you or anything like that, he doesn’t get angry despite how he grew up; he just feels sadness for you that you can’t see how little that complex matters and how beautiful you already are.
- His compromise is vegetables. If you don’t feel like eating every meal every day, it doesn’t matter, but at least four days a week, you have to have three meals.
- And for the rest, he’ll cook, making sure to prepare the best dishes made from vegetables so that you don’t feel guilty and your body doesn’t deteriorate.
- But he doesn’t support your illness, he simply ensures that you get everything you need and never go below the necessary intake without having you feeling guilty about it.
Silco:
- Hoping that the most attentive and watchful man in the lanes wouldn't notice how, suddenly, meals go from moments of lightness to something you try to avoid at all costs is a bit foolish, but he says nothing.
- He waits for as long as necessary, basically to see how long it lasts and how much you're not planning to talk to him.
- When he realizes you won’t, not anytime soon, he waits for you to be alone in his office, where you’ll find a slice of cake on his desk. Sure, it’s a low blow, but it’s also the fastest way to get you to confront the issue without too many escape routes.
- He’s a big fan of the saying “dirty laundry is washed in the family,” so if you act strange about meals in front of others, he won’t allow questions or jokes, but in private, he won’t accept “no” for an answer.
- He has enough problems already without you crying from hunger pains or having psychotic episodes due to sugar deficiency, so as long as you're under his watch, under Zaun's eye, he won't let you live with unhealthy standards.
- During meals, he becomes the strictest. He doesn’t say anything, but one look is enough to make you think twice about contradicting him. In the evening, though, when your mental health is most fragile, he becomes gentler, comforting you as much as you need.
Jinx:
- You find fertile ground, but like any good bearer of the same issue: she feels she can do it, but you cannot.
- Being with her or in her space becomes like a live-action version of Thumbelina: she’ll leave sweets, chocolates, things she knows you like to encourage you to eat so you can’t hurt yourself.
- She usually forgets to eat herself when she’s caught up in her studies and work, but if she has someone to care for, it doesn’t matter how, she’ll make sure to remember. Even if it means setting a few colorful bombs with timers.
- She feeds you. In the most visible, worst way. It’s easy that if you turn your head, you’ll find a cookie shoved in your mouth unceremoniously.
- And every single tight-fitting outfit disappears from her lair. Magically, whatever clothes you pick up from her pile fit loosely, but if you ask her about it, she’ll claim she doesn’t know what are you talking about.
Vi:
- Want to see Vi in a panic, becoming super protective and possessive in a way? Just wait for one episode, and you’ll see everything you haven’t seen.
- She’ll check on you at least three times a day, and in the evening, when you have pain or a crisis, she’ll run back and forth from the room, thinking about everything she can do to help you feel better without making you feel guilty.
- During meals, she’ll hold you in her arms and insist that you eat, but not aggressively—in a way that’s almost frightened: she’s always been used to fighting big, real monsters, but even when it came to her sister, she could never defeat the invisible ones, and the fear of failing or hurting someone she loved again terrifies her in an agonizing way.
Caitlyn:
- Like Jayce, she’ll also try a more physical way of reassuring you, like body worshipping when you’re alone or working out with you to show you that your weight doesn’t matter.
- She doesn’t know how to react; she realizes it quite quickly but fears that by acknowledging it, she might only make you feel worse.
- One day, she gathers the courage to ask if everything is okay and tells you that she’s noticed those behaviors. When you open up to her, telling her about the issues, she doesn’t respond right away and simply hugs you.
- She becomes more caring, making sure that you don’t have to attend banquets or dinners where you wouldn’t feel comfortable, bringing you food in your room to eat together, and sometimes even leaving the room so as not to put pressure on you.
- When you mention a craving, she immediately springs into action to get it for you, even if you complain that you weren’t serious. Once she understands how your condition works, she orders everything in three portions, so she can eat with you and then be the first to say that she wants more, asking if you want to share the third portion.
- If you have fat accumulated in any area, she’ll knead it with her hands while kissing you, to let you know that she loves every inch of you.
Mel:
- She notices you're having a crisis before you even realize it yourself.
- She’s a ruler, but what she learned from a young age is that a leader must appear reliable and look good, so even if unconsciously, she too sometimes experiences small crises when she feels like she isn’t looking perfect.
- No conversations, no lectures, just an increase in cuddles, moments of intimacy, and later, she brings home sweets.
- “They were a gift to me today at the council,” she lies, but sometimes she says she got them for both of you.
- She doesn’t want to make you feel like you’re in the wrong.
- She knows that when you’re ready and if you want to, you’ll bring up the issue with her, but for now, the best thing she can do is help you get through the episode with euphoria, love, and treats that encourage you to listen to your hunger rather than the illness.
Sevika:
- Like everyone in Zaun, the idea that someone would voluntarily give up food is simply incomprehensible to her.
- But she won’t comment on your problems. She doesn’t intend to invalidate them, but she also won’t encourage it.
- “Are you sure? That’s a bit too little,” will be her comment when you eat something ridiculously small, before making you a proper portion of food herself. If you try to argue, she’ll respond with a smug smile, saying that if you eat that little, you’ll end up breaking when you’re in bed together.
- If a crisis is particularly bad, she’ll try to finish her work as quickly as possible to be able to stay with you for the rest of the day and not leave you alone.
- As much as possible, she’ll try to get the best, freshest, and most natural food, to reassure you that you don’t need to worry, but she’ll never insist that you eat if you say you don’t feel up to it.
- She’ll gesture for you to come sit on her lap and keep you there, occasionally offering you things she knows you like, telling you that she’s really craving them, and if you want them too, she’ll go get them.
#jayce x reader#viktor x reader#ekko x reader#silco x reader#vander x reader#jinx x reader#vi x reader#caitlyn x reader#sevika x reader#mel x reader#jayce talis#viktor arcane#ekko arcane#silco arcane#arcane vander#jinx#vi arcane#caitlyn kiramman#mel medarda#sevika#arcane x reader#arcane headcanon#arcane 2#arcane writing
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The biggest male privilege I have so far encountered is going to the doctor.
I lived as a woman for 35 years. I have a lifetime of chronic health issues including chronic pain, chronic fatigue, respiratory issues, and neurodivergence (autistic + ADHD). There's so much wrong with my body and brain that I have never dared to make a single list of it to show a doctor because I was so sure I would be sent directly to a psychologist specializing in hypochondria (sorry, "anxiety") without getting a single test done.
And I was right. Anytime I ever tried to bring up even one of my health issues, every doctor's initial reaction was, at best, to look at me with doubt. A raised eyebrow. A seemingly casual, offhand question about whether I'd ever been diagnosed with an anxiety disorder. Even female doctors!
We're not talking about super rare symptoms here either. Joint pain. Chronic joint pain since I was about 19 years old. Back pain. Trouble breathing. Allergy-like reactions to things that aren't typically allergens. Headaches. Brain fog. Severe insomnia. Sensitivity to cold and heat.
There's a lot more going on than that, but those were the things I thought I might be able to at least get some acknowledgement of. Some tests, at least. But 90% of the time I was told to go home, rest, take a few days off work, take some benzos (which they'd throw at me without hesitation), just chill out a bit, you'll be fine. Anxiety can cause all kinds of odd symptoms.
Anyone female-presenting reading this is surely nodding along. Yup, that's just how doctors are.
Except...
I started transitioning about 2.5 years ago. At this point I have a beard, male pattern baldness, a deep voice, and a flat chest. All of my doctors know that I'm trans because I still haven't managed to get all the paperwork legally changed, but when they look at me, even if they knew me as female at first, they see a man.
I knew men didn't face the same hurdles when it came to health care, but I had no idea it was this different.
The last time I saw my GP (a man, fairly young, 30s or so), I mentioned chronic pain, and he was concerned to see that it wasn't represented in my file. Previous doctors hadn't even bothered to write it down. He pushed his next appointment back to spend nearly an hour with me going through my entire body while I described every type of chronic pain I had, how long I'd had it, what causes I was aware of. He asked me if I had any theories as to why I had so much pain and looked at me with concerned expectation, hoping I might have a starting point for him. He immediately drew up referrals for pain specialists (a profession I didn't even know existed till that moment) and physical therapy. He said depending on how it goes, he may need to help me get on some degree of disability assistance from the government, since I obviously shouldn't be trying to work full-time under these circumstances.
Never a glimmer of doubt in his eye. Never did he so much as mention the word "anxiety".
There's also my psychiatrist. He diagnosed me with ADHD last year (meeting me as a man from the start, though he knew I was trans). He never doubted my symptoms or medical history. He also took my pain and sleep issues seriously from the start and has been trying to help me find medications to help both those things while I go through the long process of seeing other specialists. I've had bad reactions to almost everything I've tried, because that's what always happens. Sometimes it seems like I'm allergic to the whole world.
And then, just a few days ago, the most shocking thing happened. I'd been wondering for a while if I might have a mast cell condition like MCAS, having read a lot of informative posts by @thebibliosphere which sounded a little too relatable. Another friend suggested it might explain some of my problems, so I decided to mention it to the psychiatrist, fully prepared to laugh it off. Yeah, a friend thinks I might have it, I'm not convinced though.
His response? That's an interesting theory. It would be difficult to test for especially in this country, but that's no reason not to try treatments and see if they are helpful. He adjusted his medication recommendations immediately based on this suggestion. He's researching an elimination diet to diagnose my food sensitivities.
I casually mentioned MCAS, something routinely dismissed by doctors with female patients, and he instantly took the possibility seriously.
That's it. I've reached peak male privilege. There is nothing else that could happen that could be more insane than that.
I literally keep having to hold myself back from apologizing or hedging or trying to frame my theories as someone else's idea lest I be dismissed as a hypochondriac. I told the doctor I'd like to make a big list of every health issue I have, diagnosed and undiagnosed, every theory I've been given or come up with myself, and every medication I've tried and my reactions to it - something I've never done because I knew for a fact no doctor would take me seriously if they saw such a list all at once. He said it was a good idea and could be very helpful.
Female-presenting people are of course not going to be surprised by any of this, but in my experience, male-presenting people often are. When you've never had a doctor scoff at you, laugh at you, literally say "I won't consider that possibility until you've been cleared by a psychologist" for the most mundane of health problems, it might be hard to imagine just how demoralizing it is. How scary it becomes going to the doctor. How you can internalize the idea that you're just imagining things, making a big deal out of nothing.
Now that I'm visibly a man, all of my doctors are suddenly very concerned about the fact that I've been simply living like this for nearly four decades with no help. And I know how many women will have to go their whole lives never getting that help simply because of sexism in the medical field.
If you know a doctor, show them this story. Even if they are female. Even if they consider themselves leftists and feminists and allies. Ask them to really, truly, deep down, consider whether they really treat their male and female patients the same. Suggest that the next time they hear a valid complaint from a male patient, imagine they were a woman and consider whether you'd take it seriously. The next time they hear a frivolous-sounding complaint from a female patient, imagine they were a man and consider whether it would sound more credible.
It's hard to unlearn these biases. But it simply has to be done. I've lived both sides of this issue. And every doctor insists they treat their male and female patients the same. But some of the doctors astonished that I didn't get better care in the past are the same doctors who dismissed me before.
I'm glad I'm getting the care I need, even if it is several decades late. And I'm angry that it took so long. And I'm furious that most female-presenting people will never have this chance.
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Ex-Husband Gojo
artist: yunonoai on twt
Synopsis: Gojo as ur ex-husband trying to win you back („• ᴗ •„)
Pairing: Gojo x Fem!Reader Content: no use of y/n nor mentions of readers appearance, THERES PLOT IN THIS ONE!! Mentions of pregnancy and getting back together again, seducing(?), fingering, spanking ONCE, reader gets folded like a chair, multiple orgasms, cream pie, aftercare(?)
(a.n) underlined text is a link incase u need a picture of the position :>
MDNI
You could never hate Gojo, even if you had been divorced for a year- pretending to barely tolerate him when you saw him.
But you knew in your marrow- you could never hate him. The only man in your life for the past 7 years, father of your child, and provider of anything you could ask for.
The divorce didn’t even affect Gojo- even as he was signing the papers, he still looked at you like you hung the moon and the stars.
“Give my wife whatever she wants.” he directed his divorce lawyer, earning an exasperated sigh from your lips.
Everything your own lawyer asked for, he shrugged.
The house? “Take it.” he scoffed, looking at you with all the love in the world.
Child support? He didn’t even blink. Satoru offered to give you money every month. As long as you didn’t work and stayed at home to care for his son.
Forget the cars or the cabin in the mountains you would go to in the winter to ski. None of that bothered Satoru. He would give you whatever you requested as long as it made you happy.
It only made your head pulse- the way the divorce lawyers were looking at you like you were some kind of horrible villain. Divorcing a seemingly loving husband who would give you anything and everything you asked for.
That was until you asked for sole custody of your child, knowing he barely had time when you were married; how would he find the time as a single father?
“No,” he said sternly, in a deeper tone—now taking this seriously. “50-50, or nothing.” he threatened, a dark aura looming over his figure as you caved.
You asked for a divorce, not because he never gave you enough— that was never the problem. Gojo loved giving and had more than enough to offer, especially to his wife and child.
The issue was, two years into marriage, he knocked you up. It wasn’t a problem though. Married, old enough, and stable enough to welcome a child into the world.
Satoru was present a lot more for those 9 months you were growing his child. Ignoring the responsibilities of his demanding job.
Nine months of pure bliss. Moving into a house, painting your child’s nursery together. Shopping for clothes, going through Satoru’s unbelievably long list of baby names- 90% of which you said ‘no’ to.
The two years before you were pregnant, you were aware of how demanding Gojo’s job really was. You knew he would be gone more often than he was present.
And it didn't bother you. If it made Satoru happy and he still returned to you at the end of the day- you didn't mind.
But during those nine months of growing his child, you thought the rest of your lives together would be the same. You thought he would be present more often than not.
And when you were pushing his big-headed child into the world, it was almost like a switch flipped in Satoru’s mind. As though he looked down to the child that was undeniably his, lily white hair—the same shade as his, and bright blue eyes, just like his father's. Gojo saw the future in the boy he held in his hands.
Gojo never told you, but that day, he realized he had to work harder, to give you and his son the best lives you could have.
He distanced himself, making sure to leave as much space between you and his work as he could. This led to you wondering if he just didn’t find you attractive anymore, or if the domestic cookie-cutter life wasn’t enough for him.
Had he told you the truth- maybe the divorce would have been avoidable. But Satoru saw this divorce settlement as you throwing a fit.
Deep down, it hurt him. It pained his heart even thinking that you would consider leaving him, but he allowed you to sign those papers.
It only meant he would have to make you fall in love with him all over again.
You scoffed at his demand of 50-50 custody, knowing you saw him two nights a week when you were married. Not even being able to fathom how he could handle having your son 50% of the time.
But Satoru surprised you in that area. Always being on time to pick up his kid from your doorstep, giving you a big hug every time he would see you. Even kissing your forehead when he would leave.
You didn’t think anything of it- he invested so much of himself in your marriage; it was instinct by now.
But when you’d be at the park with them, watching him hold the little hand of the mini Gojo that looked identical to him. Smiling with a soft warmth, Satoru may have always run out of time- constantly. But it was undeniable that he was a fantastic father.
When he ran into an acquaintance from work, he still introduced you as his lovely wife. So often that you stopped correcting him, knowing he would only start complaining if you did.
Even if the law saw you as a single mom. Technically, divorced and with a 5-year-old toddler on your hip.
Satoru still looked at you and saw his wife. Mother of his child, homemaker, and the only person that helped him heal- the person who gave him the privilege of being a father.
In his eyes, you were still his. Didn’t matter if you were divorced or not; the marriage dynamic was still present between you two.
Of the two of you, Satoru was the one who was least embarrassed about the little slip-ups. Late nights after you put your toddler down to sleep, wine glasses in hand as you recalled memories from married life.
9 out of 10 times, it always ended with Satoru’s lips crashing into yours, greedily slotting his tongue past your lips as his hands pulled you to straddle his thighs.
Nights ending with being cuddled up together, undressed and on the bed you didn’t replace when he moved out. And mornings being awakened by the smell of pancakes coming from the kitchen.
Walking down the stairs with puffy eyes, “Your mama always sleep in this late?” you heard Satoru speak from the kitchen, followed by a little laugh your son chimed.
Nodding your head disapprovingly with a smile, watching your child pull Satoru’s ear to his lips, letting out a small ‘tsk’ at what his child whispered into his ear.
The sight was always heartwarming, knowing things could’ve been like this all the time if things were different.
And every afternoon, when Satoru would practically be forced out of the house- came the talk of “This can’t happen again. It’s confusing for him-” Only for Satoru to kiss your cheek.
“Won’t happen again.” he would smile, knowing that declaration was a mere tool to end conversations like these. Knowing as long as you allowed it- mornings like these would keep happening.
There was still a lot- almost too much love, between you and Satoru. You knew this couldn’t continue, branching out and thinking of ways to not be so involved. Being all too aware of the fact that, for the past 7 years, your life has only been your husband and your son.
Ex-Husband.
That only proved your point- Satoru slowly started embedding the idea of calling him your husband again, that even in your own mind you still referred to him as such.
You knew it wasn’t the right thing to do. To continue entertaining the potential of getting together again. You considered it at first, if he was such a changed man and all he needed was to be reminded of what he lost to change his ways, would it be so bad to get back together?
But the slip-ups and nights shared together in each other's arms were too good to be true.
You feared that the same thing would happen if you allowed him fully into your life again. He would show you the best parts of him at first, then go back to neglecting his responsibilities to you and his child.
So when you asked Gojo to babysit for one evening. Instead of asking you why, he asked his 5-year-old son. Who came running up to him, pulling Satoru's hair to whisper another secret into his ear- barely legible and full of amused giggles: “Mommy has a date.”
Satoru must’ve heard wrong- it almost sounded like his son said you- his wife, had a date with someone other than him.
He tried getting more information out of his son, playfully asking who, where, and why. But the little man only scoffed, saying that you only said you had a date, and that’s why Dad had to watch him that evening.
And on the day of, Satoru showed up at your doorstep looking offensively good. Fresh haircut and his hair half dry, a white t-shirt that was entirely too tight, and gray sweats- with nothing under them (slut). And to top it all off, your favorite cologne spritzed onto his chest.
You opened your front door- you furrowed your eyebrows in disbelief, eyeing the man before you. You hated when he would purposefully show up on your doorstep looking fucking scrumptious. It was too tempting.
And as he always does- he pulls you into a rib-crushing hug, ensuring you get a face full of his scent. Kissing the top of your head as you loosely wrapped your arms around his waist. “You look gorgeous,” he murmured against your scalp, pulling away from him and scoffing.
Walking back into the entryway of your house, hearing him step behind you and close the door- “I thought I told you to come at 7.” you muttered, trying to shake off the invading thoughts of the apparent print in his sweats.
“I wanted to see you before you left.” Satoru mumbled behind you, following you up the stairs of his house and listening to the TV playing your child’s favorite cartoon.
You only hummed in response to the excuse as to why he was here a whole 2 hours before you were to leave.
While you were showering, Gojo sat on the couch supervising his son, who was asking any question that popped into the little man’s mind. Questions the child would ask you, but refuse to think you were telling the truth. So he would ask his Dad, and believe him instead.
You found it frustrating that your child believed Satoru more than he believed you- but endearing that he would always run things by his father.
All the while, answering the little questions his toddler asked- Satoru wondered if you still had that bad habit of leaving the bathroom door unlocked while you showered.
But Satoru knew he had to take a more subtle approach to the delicate situation at hand.
As he heard the sound of the shower halting- thanking the noisy plumbing the house had. It always let him know you were stepping out of the shower from wherever he was in the house.
He rose from the couch and grabbed his child from the floor. “Let’s go see what mommy’s doing.” Gojo smiled as he hooked his hands beneath his child's arms, hearing happy laughter from the little human in his hands as he ran up the stairs.
Satoru always liked watching you get dressed, even if it was to go see another man. He enjoyed watching the care you put into your appearance.
He walked into the humid restroom, his eyes catching the half-way-done zipper of your dress. “Zip me,” you murmured, looking into the mirror as you applied your makeup.
Satoru placed his child on the ground and walked up behind you, his eyes catching the clasp of your lace undergarment. He furrowed his eyebrows, realizing it was one he hadn't seen before.
He lightly placed his hand on your hip, his face too close to your shoulder, as his fingers slowly worked up the zipper. Gojo’s thumb caressed your clothed hip, giving you a light squeeze before letting go of the zipper.
Pressing your thighs together slightly and trying to ignore the warmth of his hand.
So as he sat on the edge of the bathtub, his child bouncing on his lap, watching you with an adoring gaze, enjoying the angle he had of you slightly bent over the sink. “Where’d you say you were going again?” squinting his eyes as you swiped away any misplaced makeup on your cheek.
“Out.” you scoffed, knowing if you told him the truth he would only start whining at you.
So he flashed his eyes to his son, “Do you know?” he whispered, watching his son hold back a laugh as you rolled your eyes.
As much as you disliked being the bad cop in most parenting scenarios, your child always took his side- always told him the truth when he’d ask.
“Mommy has a date.” he giggled, only for you to look to your side and squint your eyes, “Traitor.” you murmured, watching Satoru’s jaw fall in feigned shock.
“A date?” he pursed his lips, looking at you sadly. “You asked me to watch my child to go on a date?” his tone was full of sarcasm, watching you nod your head ‘no’ as you looked back into the mirror.
“It’s just dinner-” you muttered, trying to avoid his harsh gaze on your profile. “Besides, I’m sure you have your fair share of them.”
Satoru gasped your name, placing his hands on either side of his child’s head and covering his ears.
“You accuse me of cheating in front of our child? I only have room for one woman in my heart.” he scoffed, placing a hand onto his chest- almost as though he found offense in knowing you could- but he never would.
“It’s not cheating, we aren’t married anymore.”
He pulled his hands from his child’s ears, eye twitching at your declaration. “Who is he?” he asked, tone more severe as his child played with his hands. You sighed, “I have a right to know-” he started- earning for you to look at him with an irritated expression.
“Just a parent from his school.”
Satoru squinted his eyes. He knew he couldn’t ask you to homeschool his child- ‘socialization’ and all that. But now, Satoru had to worry about you being pawed at while dropping off his son at kindergarten.
In some attempts to not show he was starting to get pissed off, “If you were into single dads- you have one right here~” Gojo grinned, watching the grimace on your face churn from his attempt at flirting.
“That’s not it, but thank you for that.” you scoffed, curling your eyelashes and feeling his eyes pierce your skin.
“So what is it?” he hummed, wanting to know what this man had that he didn’t.
With a sigh you rolled your eyes, hearing your child slide off his lap and patter out of the bathroom. “I don't wanna talk about this anymore.” you muttered, sensing Satoru rise from the tub's edge and shift behind you, placing his hands around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder.
“I wanna know who you’re replacin’ me with,” he whined in your ear, causing you to scoff and look down to the sink.
You were used to Satoru clinging to you- showing his affection to you even if you weren’t together anymore.
Satoru pressed his hips onto your slightly bent bottom, his lips barely grazing your ear, “If this is about your needs- I’m here for that too, y’know.” he whispered into your ear. Making sure you could feel his print against your bottom as he pressed himself closer to you.
Your breathing increased slightly, parting your lips as his hands around your waist squeezed you tighter. “You don’t have to look for anyone else-” he whispered, lips pressing onto the shell of your ear as you closed your eyes.
“I’m here whenever you need me,”
Mentally battling the temptation with every whisper into your ear, his breathing grazing your skin, causing goosebumps to rise to the surface.
Satoru was about to murmur another temptation into your ear. Until your child's crying voice echoed through the bathroom walls. Rushing out of the bathroom and finding your son on the ground of your bedroom- Tiny droplets of blood oozed from his little knee, with fat tears leaving his blue eyes.
Satoru wasted no time scooping up the crying child from the ground, hushing him with small assurances that it was okay.
Though it was only a scrape- it was enough for Satoru to convince you to call up this, ‘Fellow parent from school’ and tell him you had to cancel. Setting no reschedule day as Gojo purposefully called out to you- “Honey, where are the band-aid’s?~”
And with that, Satoru got what he wanted. Your date was canceled, and the man backed off.
After too many treats and much-needed coddling from his father, your son dozed off in Gojo’s arms as he walked up the stairs, exhausted from the sobbing. Placing him onto the little race car bed he built- recalling the day Satoru helped you paint the bedroom.
You settled onto the living room couches and thanked him for being here. “M’sorry if you had any plans.” You sighed, looking at the well-favored man before you.
Gojo scoffed, “No plans are more important than you.” with a slight smile on his lips.
“And your son.” you clarified with a warm grin.
Satoru looked down at your hands. “And my son.” He repeated your words, reaching for your hands and holding them in his. Scooching the tiniest bit closer to you, “Thank you,” he muttered, caressing the backs of your hands with his thumbs.
“For what?” looking at him adoringly.
Gojo blinked his eyes as he engulfed the sight of your expression. Looking back at him with the same look you had when you were still married. “For bein’ a good mom,” he whispered, slowly inching closer to you.
“-nd a good wife,” he whispered, watching your eyebrows furrow at the proclamation, cheeks tingling from hearing him call you that. Parting his lips as you leaned in closer to him.
The corner of his lips curled up ever so slightly, “Why did we ever get divorced, hmm?” he whispered, darting his gaze from your eyes down to your lips. Trying to recall the last time he tasted you- finding it offensive that he couldn’t even remember.
You gulped slightly, watching his eyes go half-lidded as he leaned closer to you. You blinked your eyes closed- feeling the last of your reservations dissolve in your mind as you pressed your lips against his.
Satoru’s eyes half-lidded as he watched your eyebrows pinch up- letting go of your hands as he traced his fingertips up your arms. Lightly swiping his tongue against your bottom lip, parting your mouth to grant him entry.
Your hands making their way to his torso- feeling the thin fabric of his shirt beneath your fingers. Sighing as his tongue pressed against yours, his hands trailing to your back.
Pulling you closer to him as his fingers reached the zipper of your dress. Soft hums of appeasement rumbling onto his tongue. Tugging down the zipper slowly as your hands found the bottom of his shirt, tracing your hands beneath the fabric.
Your fingers grasping against his carved torso desperately, your thumb lightly caressing his happy trail. His hands slipped past the opening of your dress- sprawling against your back.
You pulled away- looking into his eyes. His cheeks flushed and lips puffy. “We can’t-” you breathed, hoping he would have the strength to put a halt to this. You swallowed- mouthing another ‘we can't.’ before pressing your lips onto his again.
Letting a soft moan slip your lips as he pulled the top of your dress down- feeling the light grazes of his fingers against your skin. Placing his hand on your side, sliding up your torso and cupping the underside of your laced breast.
Feeling a twinge of anger once he felt it was a bralette- only a thin layer of lace separating his hand from your soft skin. Even more when he remembered why you would be wearing this.
Tracing his thumb over the little peak beneath the lace, giving it a soft swipe. Earning a light hum to leave your lips onto his.
And to check- just to be sure he wasn’t getting mad over nothing; Satoru pulled his lips from yours. Placing damp kisses onto your cheek. Peppering them down your neck, soft sighs and moans leaving your lips were heard as hymns to Satoru’s ears.
Making sure to pay extra attention to your collarbone, taking a few seconds to suck harshly on the skin. Even if you didn’t wear your wedding ring anymore- this was his way of showing any other men that you were claimed- that you were his.
His hands shifted your hips to sit correctly on the couch, slumped with your dress bunched on your thighs. Satoru trailed wet kisses to the swell of your breast, lightly pressing his tongue onto your laced nipple and swirling against the fabric, coaxing a light moan to fall from your lips.
Though your eyes were closed, Satoru's grip on your waist told you that he was furious. Had you opened them, you would have seen his jealous eyes looking back at you.
Satoru hoped he was wrong- hoped you wouldn’t do this to him. All but praying he wouldn’t have to do what he had to if he was right.
His hands hooked onto the bunched-up fabric of your dress, shifting it down your thighs and pulling it from your body entirely before he pulled his lips from your tummy.
Looking down at the matching lace panties- soaked as they were, he had never seen them. Gojo’s eye twitched as he looked back up to you, unwilling to come to the fact that you bought- and wore this for another man.
Satoru liked thinking he was a patient person, calm and collected when he had to be. But the way he rose himself from the ground, manhandling you to flip over and bend your knees on the couch, made him realize he held no more patience for you nor your attempts to make him jealous.
Your hands held onto the back of the couch firmly, keeping yourself up as Satoru’s hands landed on your hips. Groping the malleable skin as you whimpered, pressing your bottom back to the growing erection in his sweats.
“You wore this for him?” he mumbled behind you, slipping his thumb beneath the thin band of lace. Exhaling, feeling yourself soak your panties even further.
You bit your lip, looking down at your hands in shame- knowing whatever you said now would only make him more bitter.
Murmuring something- quiet enough for Satoru not to comprehend. He huffed a smile, “What was that?” he teased, pressing his bulge against your bent bottom, pushing you further against the wall.
“Tell the truth.”
You looked back slightly, peering at the crazed man behind you. Biting your lip and facing the wall, “I did.”
As a reward for your honesty, Satoru gave you a firm spank against your bottom. Causing you to jolt forward with a soft whimper.
“You’re that needy?” Gojo teased, caressing the warm skin of your bottom, soothing the sting. “That you have to cheat on me?” you exhaled- not wanting to admit how attractive it was that he was scolding you for something he shouldn’t be.
Taking his hands from your hips and hooking them onto the sides of your panties, slipping them down your hips to be greeted with your soaked cunt. Glistening with the taste he craved from the minute he moved out.
But even if his mouth watered looking down to your core, he couldn’t bring himself to kneel before you- knowing if he let things go your way, this little farce of divorce would stay in your mind.
No, he had to teach you a lesson, even if he had to pound it into your foolish brain that you were his.
So as the tips of his fingers grazed your soaked lips- avoiding the bundle of nerves that he was sure was throbbing from how wet you were.
Circling the tips of his ring and middle finger on your entrance as you let out breathless whines. “I just missed you,” whimpering as you reached a hand back to the one that held your hip in place.
The words enticed Gojo to dip the very tips of his fingers into your cunt- “Didn’t wanna tell you.” you moaned, admitting the truth he had been wanting to hear for far too long.
Closing your eyes as he slowly inched his fingers into you. Satoru smiled, feeling your walls welcome him in, too tight to have been recently fucked. So he knew you must be telling the truth.
Grasping onto his hand, the tips of his fingers prodding into the spot he quickly found every time.
Your hand that held you up trembling as he lightly curled his fingers. Letting out breathy moans, earning Satoru to smile to himself, “Who knows how to please you like me, hm?” he let out the thoughts from his lips without permission.
You whined as he pumped his fingers into you with a slow ease. Whimpering softly as he watched with dim eyes. “Who else but me?” he pressed, feeling your grip against his hand tighten.
“Need you inside ‘toru-” you whined, the hand holding you up gripping the edge of the couch violently.
Gojo remembered the last time you called him that- biting his lip from the nickname you used to call him when you were still married. And you must’ve known how his mind reels whenever you called him that- or else why would you say it in that tone?
All but begging for his cock with every light spasm your cunt did around his fingers.
Satoru was pleased with how pliant you were in his hands, satisfied enough to pull his fingers from your cunt. Quickly removing his shirt before placing his messied hand over his sweats, softly palming himself as he looked at your core-
Gojo was so sure at that moment- that there was no god- the closest thing to it was what lied between your legs. Pulsing- begging for him to bully his pained cock into it.
He pulled his hand from his bulge, shoving down the loose band of his sweats and freeing his cock. And as you suspected- no briefs.
Placing a hand onto his base and lightly tapping his leaky tip onto your ass, causing you to whine.
Gojo started thinking about how he wanted you- now that you were compliant and needy before him.
He backed away in the slightest. Kicking off his sweats before moving you to lie back onto the couch. Settling his hips between your thighs. Soaking up the desperate expression you wore as small whimpers left your lips.
The tip of his cock sliding up and down your cunt- refusing to give you what you ached for.
His forearms held his torso up as your hands latched behind his neck- legs spread and waiting for him to plunge himself into you. Only Satoru looked into your bleary eyes with a smile, “You wan’me inside?” he huffed- watching your bottom lip quiver, lowering himself close enough for your lips to brush against his.
“Tell me 'nd I will.” he grinned against you- watching your eyes close, trying not to cave to his demands. Biting your lip as he pressed his tip against your entrance- teasing you in the slightest.
You breathed a light whimper, blinking your eyes open and staring into his power-crazed ones. “Please-” you whined, “Put it inside ‘toru.” the tone you took only made Gojo’s ego boost- smiling with parted lips as he slowly pressed past your entrance.
A light whimper rumbled from his flushed lips as your hands pulled his neck closer, pressing your lips onto his. Breathing in every whimper, he exhaled onto your tongue as he eased himself into you.
Being able to feel that you hadn’t fucked anyone recently- That you were faithful to him. And this was all just an attempt to rile him up, which only made him even more eager to burrow himself into you further, ‘You’ve been good. That’s what you deserve,’ he thought as his tongue danced with yours.
The light sting from the stretch makes you huff out a pained whimper- inching himself deeper till his hips were flush to your thighs. His tip easily found the sweet spot he seemingly had exact coordinates to.
Satoru placed his hands on your hips, slowly raising himself with your legs locked on his waist. Holding onto your back as you lightly ground your hips flush against his.
A lazy, sloppy version of a lotus position, pulling away from his lips as you trailed a hand to his hair. Looking into his hazy eyes as his hand assisted your hips.
Small moans leaving your throat as your lips brushed against his. Not even attempting to kiss him, knowing you wouldn’t be able to keep a pattern from how deep he was hitting inside of you.
A light sheen of sweat coating your forehead as Gojo relished the look in your eyes- just fucked out enough to let the mask slip. Looking at him with love-filled eyes, your bottom lip quivering as your head threatened to tip back.
Your nose scrunched lightly, neck curving back with a low groan. Not wanting to leave space between you- Satoru placed his lips onto your exposed neck, humming muffled whimpers against your skin as your bottom lip trembled.
Words forming on the tip of your tongue as you ground your cunt against him. The position so full of intimacy, it made you forget you were doing this with your ex-husband.
Puffing out a light breath, smile forming at the corner of your lips- sinking into the mouthwatering pleasure you incited with every small thrust.
“Fuck, I love you.” you moaned mindlessly. But the words rang through Satoru’s ears like church bells, words he hadn’t heard in far too long- even in the past slip-ups. You always held your tongue, making sure to not plant that seed in his mind.
Gojo almost came when he heard your proclamation, inching you back with his lips attached to your neck. Easing your back onto the arm of the couch, planting a foot onto the ground as your hands kept a tight grip on his neck. Satoru dragged his hips from yours with a loud schlop coming from between your legs.
Pulling his lips from your neck, he looked at your expression—pinched eyebrows and eyes shut tight- showing him you were close. So close, he could hear it in your sighs of content.
Satoru leaned down to your ear, huffing a warm breath against your cartilage. Shoving his cock back into you- bottoming out too quickly, earning a whine from your lips. Wasting no time before repeating the movement. Setting a speedy pace with a low whimper.
Sliding your hands up his forearms, landing on his biceps as he quickened the pace- riding himself up an orgasm.
“Lemme make you a mama again-” he huffed into your ear, his tip nudging your sensitive spot with every thrust- you moaned his name in response, so close your brain would have short-circuited had you tried answering.
Satoru grunted with a smile, thinking of the words he was about to say. “Marry-” he groaned, feeling your cunt suck him in with every pull he did, “me again.” he whimpered, his thrusts pushing you up further.
Taking a long lick at your ear- urging you to answer him. Pulling away from your neck, placing his hand on your jaw lightly. “Huh?” Satoru grinned. “Marry me again baby.” Watching your eyes crack open- bearing your teeth softly as you felt the warmth in your tummy over fill.
Pressing his parted lips to yours sloppily- pulling away, and watching your eyes threaten to roll back. You started nodding your head ‘yes’ in his hand frantically- your walls flexing around his speedy cock as he felt you come undone.
Your nodding agreement was all Satoru needed to lose the rhythm of his thrusts. Sloppily pushing into your clenching cunt, his whining muffled by his bottom lip being tucked between his teeth.
Your lips started babbling soundless pleads- ‘please, please,’ and to Satoru’s ears- you were begging for him to fill you. Fill you till he didn’t have anymore to give.
And as a loving and obedient husband- that’s what he did.
With one loud grunt- he spilled himself into you- his thrusts slowing, not as long strides, but he made sure to push his seed deeper into you. Keeping that declaration of making you a mom again.
A low whine left your lips, feeling his warm spend coat your walls with every twitch his cock made inside of you.
So full, you were sure his proclamation would come true. And he came a lot- as though he was saving it up just for you.
Heavily breathing as he slowed his thrusts, pressing his forehead to your temple. Trying to catch his breath as he came down, feeling your heartbeat against his own chest- racing and pounding against his sternum.
Soft kisses planted on your face, your hands easing their grip on his sides. Satoru's hands slid down to your hips, raising himself to his knees and looking down to where you were still connected.
A low gulp bobbing in his throat, knowing he would have to pull out eventually; And dreading it. Thinking of a million ways to keep you filled and plugged with his future offspring.
And as you finally could steady your breathing, Gojo yanked you down from the arm of the couch. Back landing flush against the cushions with a soft grunt. Looking at him, all but asking what he was doing.
Till Satoru pulled himself out of you, hoisting your hips up from the couch with two strong hands. “Sator-” you tried saying, only for his arms to hug the crease of your thighs, bending you in half with your legs flailing in the air.
All the pressure was placed onto your shoulders as Satoru latched his mouth onto your messied clit. Keeping his eyes parted and watching your expression churn. Placing a hand onto his forearm- bracing as he greedily lapped at your neglected clit.
Mentally- this was to give his seed a better chance of taking. Hips in the air- all of the cum he had just pumped into you had nowhere else to go but deeper inside of you. And to also get a taste of you- even if remnants of his cum mixed with it. Satoru didn’t care, as long as he got to taste you.
Huffing out all the air you could, puffs laced with moans. Your hands gripping harshly onto Gojo's forearm, leaving minor crescent-shaped marks on his skin from your nails.
Basically folded in half, your hips started writhing in his grasp- overstimulation creeping up your spine from his vigorous tongue.
Spasming in his hands- trying to warm you were close, but it only came out as more ragged whimpers. Clenching your teeth with your eyes shut tight- unable to see the starved expression looking at you as Gojo unraveled you.
And once Gojo felt your clit tremble between his lips- he knew it was too soon to let you back down; he needed to keep your hips aimed up as long as he could.
Satoru watched your bottom lip tremble as he continued the movement with his tongue. Your hips trying to shimmy from his grasp- but he held you up with two strong arms that had a mission.
Abusing your overwhelmed clit as your eyes screwed together tighter- white spots infiltrating your closed vision with desperate moans. The top of your head bumped into the arm of the couch as he pushed you into a firmer bend.
Your entrance squelched against his chin as he pulled another orgasm from you- more ragged whimpers littered with his name falling from your lips.
You huffed- feeling his mouth go unbothered from the third orgasm he had given you. “Please ‘toru-” you whimpered, cracking your eyes open and looking at the crazed man holding your hips. Satoru pulled his lips from your cunt- looking at you with a smile.
Half his face soiled with your arousal and a glimmer of his seed on his chin. “Just one more-” he egged on, looking at you with dazed eyes. “Jus’onemor-” he cut himself off by placing his lips back onto your clit.
You only sighed a whimper, allowing him to get his fill.
Satoru lapped at your puffy clit, his eyebrows pinching together as his cock sent signals to his mind- the same signals that he was close to an orgasm. Untouched and so close just from pleasing you- from hearing your pretty sounds.
Gojo started to whimper lightly- whimpers that vibrated against your cunt and caused your moans to slur into higher-pitched puffs of air- trying to pull through another orgasm. Taking your lip between your teeth with harshly pinched eyebrows, puffing through your nose with muffled whines.
He closed his eyes- feeling the knot formed in his tummy snap as your knuckles turned a lighter shade, just from how hard you clawed at his forearm. Feeling a warm spurt onto your bent spine as you tried to focus on cumming.
It took very little time for Satoru to gift you a fourth orgasm, a small tear falling from your closed eye as you aimlessly shifted in his grasp.
Satoru sloppily licked at your cunt- cleaning up the mess on your clit with a softer tongue, parting his eyes and looking at your expression. Slowly easing his grasp on your hips as he unfolded you, placing one last kiss onto your cunt, earning a spasm from your hips.
He eased your hips back down onto the couch, watching your fucked out expression breathe in as much air as you could- trying to catch your breath.
Uncaring if the mess he spurt onto your back messied the couch- you always complained about how ugly it was anyway.
He lazily laid himself atop you- placing the side of his face on your collarbone as your hands rested on his shoulders, rubbing small circles on his skin. Grunting softly from how easily he laid his entire body weight on yours.
You parted your eyes, trying to blink away the post-orgasm haze. Even if you had showered a few hours ago- Satoru’s bath offer sounded like heaven.
It seemed to take no longer than a few slow blinks. Easing into the clawfoot bathtub Satoru chose specifically for times like these when he bought the house.
Sighing softly as his arms held you close, his palm gently sprawled against your lower belly and your back pressed to his chest. Avoiding the conversation that needed to be spoken about.
Knowing it would never be spoken if you shoved it off, jettisoned aside to be talked about later.
“Satoru?” you hummed, placing the back of your head onto his chest.
He sighed, closing his eyes and nodding his head 'no'. “I don’t wanna talk about that right now.” he huffed, feeling your hand clasp his beneath the water. Interlocking your fingers with his and closing your eyes.
“If we don’t talk about it now, we never will.”
Satoru smiled. “Then let’s never talk about it~” he scoffed.
You furrowed your eyebrows, trying to make sense of the meaningless words he babbled into your ear earlier. “You really wanna marry me again?” you asked- unsure if they were just words he mindlessly spouted at the moment- or if they had any meaning.
He scoffed, “What kind of question is that?”
Inhaling as though you were about to speak- “Course I wanna marry you again,” he hummed. Rubbing your belly softly, “nd make you a mom again.”
Pulling his hand from your tummy with a scoff, causing small ripples in the water. “Be serious.”
“You have no idea how serious I’m being right now.”
Your lips pulled to the side, mulling over his proclamation.
“You still love me?” he asked, looking down at the side of your face.
Turning your neck slightly, you peered your eyes up at him with sincerity filling them. Furrowing your eyebrows, you tried not to admit it, but- “Of course I still love you, ‘toru.” You mumbled. Heartfelt words that rang true in your heart.
“I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving you.”
“Then marry me.” he whirred, watching your hand pull his left one up from the water. Your eyes admiring the wedding band he hadn’t taken off.
You stayed silent, holding his ringed hand in yours. Satoru would be lying if he said seeing your ring finger empty didn't hurt.
Your silence gave Gojo his answer, “Why not?” he whispered, hearing a ragged sigh from your lips. “I still love you- you. You still love me-”
“M’scared.” you mumbled. Feeling your shoulders tense against his chest with a small ripple in the water.
Satoru let out a half-laugh from his chest. “Of what? I’ve been good, haven’t I?” he grinned, his playful tone invading your ears.
“You were good when I was pregnant too.” you quipped, dropping his hand into the water and recalling the days he started slipping through your grasp.
You sniffled lightly, “nd look what happened.”
Satoru bit his tongue. Knowing if he started defending his baseless actions, this would end up being a fight.
“I spent so long wondering if it was me- if I was the problem.” you scoffed. “I don’t want to let you back in just for the same thing to happen.”
Satoru pulled you closer with a sigh, “It won’t happen again.” he whispered into your ear, “I promise.”
You huffed air from your nose, making Satoru think you didn’t believe him. “I’ll even write it into my vows this time.”
A small laugh left your lips, “You won’t miss single life too much?” you played, feeling his head rest against yours.
“Not once have I felt single since you signed those papers.” he grinned.
You pondered his offer, pretending to actually consider the option before you.
Satoru softly kissed your ear, “C’mon- I’ll be such a good husband~” he whispered.
It wasn’t as though you ever really felt single either- That one year spent apart was still full of love and a marital dynamic.
The rest of the night was spent in the same bed Satoru built after you moved into the house, cuddled up just the way you had longed for since he moved out.
The following day, Satoru couldn’t wait for his son to fully wake up- he walked into the hazy child's bedroom and asked if he wanted a little brother or sister.
All smiles and beaming eyes in the kitchen- telling his son that his plan worked. He made you fall in love with him, and he was finally your husband again.
And as you watched your husband and your son giggle with each other in the kitchen, you smiled. Warm cheeks from the thought that Satoru actually thought you stopped loving him at some point.
But then again, you never really fell out of love, did you?
-
I loved writing this sm.
#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk x reader#jjk x y/n#gojo smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo x reader#gojo satoru#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru x reader#gojou x reader#gojo saturo#gojou satoru x reader#satoru gojo#jjk gojo#jujutsu gojo#gojo x y/n#gojo x you#gojo satoru fic#jjk satoru#jujutsu kaisen satoru#satoru smut#satorugojo#jujutsu satoru#gojou satoru x you#gojou satoru x y/n#gojo x chubby reader
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For someone who's autistic and thus like... Struggle with social situations etc, I sure do... Love a lot of people like a lot...
#miranda talking shit#I dont even think i like people overall. Im an introvert so social stuff tire me out but like damn#Those handful of people who are my friends id all do everything for tho. If we've talked more than 10 times in the past#Youre my friend and im willing to lie for the cops for you among other things.#Its a bit dangerous for me sincr i know im such an... Ride or die person plus with my asd i can be taken advantage of very badly#But so far in my life ive never had that ... Not to fhe point its like... Actually a huge problem. Ive gotten scammed in the past bc#Im too trusting. But not by a big amount or something i will be truly broken up over losing? But like yeah. I dont often say the fact id#Do like anything for people i love bc that is probably scary but legit. I care for you... I'll gladly do a lot of shit for you. No one have#I understand why people are somewhat scared of me and bc i feel too much bc sometimes it scares me too. I'd go through so much#Absolute shit for someone i love if they needed that of me. Id comprise so much of myself for others and it is kinda scary#I guess i should be glad i haven't... Attracted the type of people who would take advantage of my kindness.. I know many dont#Have the luck i do with people. But somewhat i think im also a decent person feeler. I dont give my time to people i get bad vibes from#Thats why i dont think ive ever had a problem with... Fake people or two-faced people? I think everyone in my life. Friend wise#Are all very honest/genuine. Thats a common trait among all people i cherish that and that they care. All do care and love in different way#But all have a caring side to them. And im glad. Those traits i value very highly and im glad that everyone in my life basically share that#I havent gone out of my way to find 90% of them but still they have found me/we found each other and i love that
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Hey guys, we need to talk. Because a certain little something in TMAGP 8 is causing what is genuinely the most toxic part of the Magpod fandom at large to once again rear its ugly head. So let's talk about podcast character appearance head canons, shall we?
I'm tagging this with the Magnus Archives, TMA and Magpod tags because I am absolutely calling all of you out, but if you don't want spoilers for The Magnus Protocol episode 8 then stop reading right now.
.
.
. Okay, so, Gerry exists in the TMAGP universe. He's happy (or at least acts cheerful). And some people have headcanoned this to mean that he is no longer goth, or at the very least isn't dying his hair black with bad box color. And other people have decided to get seriously agro over this. I have literally seen with my very own eyeballs someone call "un-gothing" Gerry a "hate crime" and calling the person they were talking to "gothphobic."
Let me make this absolutely clear for all of you: podcasts are a purely audio medium and unless a physical trait of theirs is explicitely stated, everyone's headcanon for how a character appears is valid. Goth TMAGP Gerry is valid. But also
Rainbow Goth TMAGP Gerry is valid. Pastel Goth TMAGP Gerry is valid.
Not Goth At All TMAGP Gerry is valid.
Bald Gerry who has actually gotten his brain cancer diagnosed in time and is getting treated for it is valid. Somebody's headcanon of a character that has no canonical description to them, or whose headcanon matches the few crumbs of canonical description we have but otherwise doesn't look the way you imagine them to, is not going to take away from your own headcanon of what a character looks like. If someone imagining or drawing a character looking a different way from how you imagine them looking somehow takes away from your enjoyment of the fandom or otherwise makes you feel like you need to barge in and tell them that they're Wrong and need to conform to your headcanon or else, that is a reflection on you, not them.
And this problem way predates TMAGP, let alone TMAGP 8. The only description we have of John is that he is in his early 30's and has prematurely greying hair.
If someone thinks he looks like the pastiest motherfucker to ever dwell in a basement, an extra-in-the-Adam's Family or Tim Burtan protagonist of a man, let them.
What's that? You want to tell them that John is BROWN and if they don't headcanon him looking that way they're WRONG and RACIST? Back away from the keyboard and go outside.
(Ironically, as someone who started getting grey hairs in my hair in my 20's myself, I'm pretty sure everyone's headcanon of John, with tiny little whisps of grey in his hair, is wrong, because if he was so grey that people were surprised to learn he was "a child of the 90's," he was probably full on salt-and-pepper when he was in his 20's.)
The only description we have for Martin is that he (man who canonically has the self esteem of a used doormat) describes himself as "not the smallest guy", Not-Sasha called him "roomy", Melanie is skinner than him, and Jonny said he imagined him as a "bigger guy" who would beat Alex in a physical fight. If someone decides to take this information and conclude that it means he's tall, broad and has muscle, rather than that he's overweight, fucking let them. If your first instinct to this is to run to your keyboard and call them "fatphobic" or otherwise bash them for it, I once again urge you to back away from your keyboard and go outside.
Someone headcanons Basira not wearing a headscarf? We have exactly 0 canonical physical description of her and the people who headcanon her as having one are basing that purely off of her name alone. Fucking let them. Someone headcanons Melanie and/ or Georgie as a skin color you don't agree with or a hairstyle you don't like? Fucking let them. As long as someone's headcanon of a character's description doesn't contradict the few canonical descriptions we have of a character, why do you care? Them having a different headcanon from you doesn't take away your right to imagine the characters looking however you like, anymore than it should take away their right to do the same. Someone headcanoning John as white (or Black, or Asian, or Mixed, or whatever) isn't going to make all of the fanart of John as brown with long hair suddenly disappear, nor the fanfiction describing him as such (although I do often wonder if the opposite is not true; is the fact that John looks the same in so much of the fanart I see on here really because of fandom "consensus", or is it because people are absolutely awful to anyone who draws him Different?). Someone headcanoning Martin as not fat isn't going to make the mountains of fanart of him as a fluffy little marshmallow vanish into the void (although I do remember hearing about someone getting bullied off the internet for daring to draw Martin as not fat). And someone headcanoning Gerry in TMAGP as not being goth isn't going to take away your preciouse goth TMAGP Gerry headcanon. That should be part of the fun of it, shouldn't it? Seeing what different images people have conjured in their heads of these characters we only get to experience with our ears, and celebrating the differences as well as the similarities? Why are we bullying people into conforming to one appearance of a character when no actual canonical appearance of them exists?
#the magnus archives#tma#the magnus protocol#the magnus protocol spoilers#tmp#tmp spoilers#tmapg#tmagp spoilers#magpod
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Sickly Sweet
Pairing: Sanji x Reader
SFW
Summary: You've got a horrible cold, and Sanji is determined to take care of you. He may be going a bit overboard. Warnings: Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Illness Word Count: 1.1k Notes: I'm sick as a dog right now, so I wrote a little something to comfort myself. Not proofread or edited, just words on the page. Hope everyone's having a good Christmas Eve (or Christmas, if it's already day of for you), and I hope none of you are sick like I am!
The doting had been so nice at the start. Your head was pounding, you could barely breathe through your nose, and your throat was so sore you felt like you had swallowed glass. So when your dear sweet Sanji had insisted on taking care of you, you had absolutely no problem with it.
Until now.
“Darling, angel, light of my life, please, just one more sip.” He was holding the cup of soup directly in front of your face, begging you to open your mouth. This was sweet the first time, but now you were halfway through your fourth cup of broth and you felt like you were going to explode.
You manage to mumble through pursed lips, “Sanji, I’m full.”
“Just one more, love, please.”
“Sanji, if I drink any more, I’ll throw up.”
“You won’t throw up, dear.”
“I definitely will. I’m about 80% soup right now. Maybe even 90.”
A slight wrinkle settles on his brow as he pouts. “Darling, you need fluids. It’ll help you recover.”
“I understand that. But there’s only so much room in my body, and we’re full up right now.” Your voice is getting croakier with every word you speak, and you can see Sanji’s eyes filling with even more concern. “Sweetheart, I’ll have more later, I promise. Please just…let me digest for a little bit.”
For a moment you simply stare into each other’s eyes, and you try to emphasize your pout and watery eyes. He folds like a house of cards. “Alright, dear.”
His hands are gentle as he cradles your face, his eyes adoring. You let your eyes close, basking in the love he has for you, before you feel him pull you closer.
You just barely get your hands between your lips, his brushing lightly against your palm.
“Mmm?” He mumbles against your hand in confusion.
“You can’t kiss me! You’ll get sick!”
You’ve never seen him look more devastated in your life. You honestly think he’d be less hurt if you shot him. “I can’t–I–What? No! I can’t kiss you?”
“No! You’ll catch whatever I have!”
“And it will be worth it!”
“I don’t want to get you sick! I don’t want you to feel like this!”
“Darling, not kissing you for however many days this lasts will be far more tortuous than the cold, I assure you.” He leans in again, his expression just begging you to let him press his lips to yours. Are those tears in his eyes?
“Well I’d feel awful getting you sick. And you went twenty-one years without kissing me, I think you can last a few days.” You pull your blanket tighter around you as though to shield yourself from his desperate begging.
“Darling, I didn’t know what I was missing then. Now I can’t live without you for a moment. Please, just one kiss. I probably won’t even get sick.” He falls to his knees, his chin resting on your thigh as he gazes up at you adoringly. “Please, dear. Just one.”
It would be so easy to deny him if you didn’t also desperately want to kiss him. You imagine the comfort of his warm, his arms wrapped around you protectively, his lips against yours. You could really forget how awful you felt, just for a moment. Sanji has a way of making you forget about the rest of the world. But you have to remain strong, for his sake. “Sanji, my love, it’s for your own good.”
He presses his face into your leg, making a pathetic whimpering noise. “My love denies me at my weakest. How cruel.” Despite his words, he nuzzles into your leg when you place a hand on the back of his head. “Would you kiss me if I were sick?”
“You wouldn’t let me.”
His silence speaks volumes.
But then he changes gears.
“But if I get sick from this would you kiss me? Since you’ve already had it?”
“I would.”
He lifts his head a moment, staring at you, before diving for your forgotten cup of soup. Before you can even process what he’s doing, he chugs it, pressing his lips against where yours had rested and purposefully consuming all of the germs you probably put into the cup.
“Sanji, what the hell?”
“Now I’m already infected! I’ll either get sick or I won’t. Kissing you won’t change anything.”
You sigh. That’s not really how this works, but he’s staring at you with such boyish pride for his genius little trick, and you were always going to give in anyway. “Come here, love.”
He actually cries out, “Yay!” like an excited child, before rushing forward to crash your lips together. The kiss is sweet as always, his lips soft and his hands gently caressing your cheeks. When you pull back to breathe, he falls forward, wrapping you in his arms and pressing comically loud smooches all over your face. “I adore you,” he says, with an amount of reverence normally reserved for gods.
“I love you too,” you say with the exasperation that one can only hold for the people they love most. “I’m not taking care of you when you get sick.”
“Yes, you will.” He has the slightest hint of a smug grin on his face before he nuzzles into your neck, pressing his lips against your pulse point. You wonder if he truly understands that beat is only for him.
You can’t hide your smile as it cracks through your faux annoyance. “Yeah, I will. But I’m going to be very smug about it.”
“You can be as smug as you’d like, my dear, as long as you’re with me. You can treat me however you’d like.”
“Don’t say that. What if I wanted to be mean to you?”
“Do you?”
“No, never!” There’s real horror in your tone beneath your cracking voice.
You can feel his lips turn into a fond smile against your skin. “I know, dear. That’s why I can say that to you.”
“I could be evil. People change.”
“Not you, my love.”
“I could be evil! I contain multitudes!”
He laughs quietly, pulling you so you’re pressed against the bed under his comforting weight. “Sure, sure. You could be as evil as you wanted.”
“Right,” you murmur, before a yawn breaks through. Sanji had managed to distract you, but you truly were exhausted fighting off this bug.
“Go to sleep, my love. You need your rest.”
“Will you be here when I wake up?”
“I’ll try. If I’m not, I won’t be long, I promise.”
“...Are you going to bring more soup? I don’t think I can handle any more.”
He doesn’t answer, kissing your forehead before slipping his eyes closed, encouraging you to do the same.
He’s definitely going to bring more soup.
Tag List: @pandora-writes-one-piece @shy-writer-999 @dreamcastgirl99 @tochillwithamockingjay
#sanji x reader#one piece x reader#one piece#sanji x y/n#sanji x you#one piece sanji#black leg sanji#x reader#op#one piece fluff
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The 90’s case
The 90’s case (18+)
Characters - assistant detective JK x detective Y/N reader (Woman)
Summary - Another case in your pocket, but this time, solving it could grant you everything you’ve ever wanted.
Genre - Crime investigation, suggestive/smut, maybe slight angst, the action takes place in the 90's, THIS is fiction!
Warnings - a dead body, cheating!, the reader is married to Namjoon, they investigate a crime, fictional characters, mentions of diabetes, autopsy and overdose, some swear words.
Warnings for the not so holy parts (18+) - I’ll try to detail, so… kissing, mentions of arousal, mentions of female and male body parts, unprotected (please be safe!), he cums inside…(PLEASE BE SAFE!), he’s a little possessive, I think, a little rough, hitting your sweet spots and all, not much detailing.
MINORS PLEASE STAY AWAY!
Author’s note - This is a story I wrote in 2020. I refined it and reposted it here with some extra spicy stuff. Y/L/N is your last name. Enjoy!
Word count - 4.1k
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“What do you think about this, Miss Y/L/N” one of the cops asks, while dozens search for clues in the house. A normal death as supposed by the covers. “Interesting indeed.” you say, looking through the magnifying glass, taking in every detail.
“How long do you think it's been like this?” he asks with disgust, looking at the poor man. He was dead. “Oh, I assure you Mr. Choi hasn't been dead for more than 5 hours.” you say confidently.
“Do you think it was a heart attack?” you humm curiously, staring at the lifeless body that sits in the bathtub.
“Ask for some tissue samples, I’ll definitely come with a response after I get the autopsy reports.” you yawn tiredly, all the work you have been doing recently piling up on your body.
Since when did crimes became so popular?
“Let’s do a good job, just as always.” he says, taking off his glove to shake your hand, before exiting the bathroom.
“And, any news from the expert?” says the man waiting for you outside, his body resting on the wall. “Let's not rush to conclusions, Jungkook. For now we know very little about the victim.” you smile at him, patting his arm in order to follow you down the stairs.
The place was packed with police since this morning, when the Choi family found out about the tragic incident. “What do we know about the victim until now?” Jungkook asks, opening the door of his Trabant 600, letting you hop on the right seat before taking off, him driving.
“Name:Dong-He Choi, age: 57, medical report shows that the only problem he had was diabetes?” you question, the report, poor in details. “Too much insulin?” He interupts. “Don't interrupt me, Jungkook.”
“Although I don't think he took too much insulin, his family said he took great care of his health.”
The man keeps silent, letting you cross over the details listed. “Family of 5 members, wife and 3 children along with him. It says here that his mother also lives there, the place estimated to cost around…10 million dollars?!”
Jungkook whistles in disbelief. “Wow, no wonder they live in that huge mansion.”
“Don’t worry, that’s just their main house, it says here that they also have a vacation home in Manhattan, two in Japan and a condo in China.” you exclaim.
“It smells more like murder to me, he was packed, filthy rich!” You sigh, already knowing this was going to be a huge pain that you will have to deal with. You were the main detective after all.
“I don’t know what to say, he had no signs of abuse or struggle other than the injury on his head, probably from falling face first into the tub.” all the details crossing your mind, trying to picture what happened.
“I didn’t find anything unusual at the crime scene.” you throw the pieces of paper in the backseat closing your eyes in annoyance, why now out of all times. Why would your life get so busy the moment you were close to your lowest?
“Did you speak with the family, maybe they gave some relevant info.” the man glimpse slightly over your tired figure before answering.
“His mother was in shock. Oldest son with his girlfriend, allegedly on a date, his daughters went to bed at 9, didn’t hear anything unusual during the night.” you hum, useless information once again.
“How about the wife, what’s her alibi?”
“She found him in the morning, they were sleeping in separate rooms recently, apparently their married life was not as sweet as it appeared.” you turn your head to look outside the window, the situation seemingly familiar leaving a feeling of bitterness crawl down your throat.
“We’re almost at your house. Looks like your hubby is here too.” Jungkook notices, his car parked in your driveway. “What’s he doing here at this hour, he should’ve been at work.” you mumble making Jungkook shrug.
“How long are you going to keep doing this?” he questions, you remain silent for a moment before looking eyes with the boy. “My personal life is not your business.” you reply coldly. “I would say otherwise…hey!” he tries to argue, but you get out of the car waving at him, loving how annoyed he’s gotten.
Your steps take you closer, taking in a deep breath and preparing your forced smile before entering the house. “Hey sweetie!” his melodious voice greets you, a gentle smile tugging at his lips.
The man comes closer to you, his lips leaving a small peck on your forehead. “Back already? Didn’t you have a new case?” he questions with a raised brow. “I could ask the same thing, shouldn’t you be in the office?” you reply, taking off your jacket, placing it on the rack.
Namjoon looks at you a little stunned before composing himself, a chuckle escaping his lips. “I forgot something important, I was about to go back anyway.” he takes his paperwork, key and jacket before throwing you a last glance, exiting the house.
You sigh, the smell of strong woman perfume lingering around. Her perfume.Your husband has been cheating on you for a while with his secretary, a woman 10 years younger than him, you already knew. He kept excusing himself with “business meetings” out of town and all the late night working under the pretext of “I just had so much paperwork to do.” his actions were obvious.
You were a detective after all, it was your job to be observant, years of practice bringing you to the point you were seeing through people like through crystal clear glass. Plus, he was “your” man, you knew him better after all these years you’ve been together.
And even if you didn’t want to believe it at first, the traces of red lipstick, one that you never wore, were far more evidence than needed.
You were stuck, you knew he was cheating but you also couldn’t bring yourself to leave him. You were to people with important jobs and bigger concerns than love, too different from the beginning but way to blind to see. In any case, the divorce would only bring more trouble into your busy lives.
You didn’t even feel that hurt about his actions, the love between you not existing anymore. That’s why you kept going like this, letting him meet her knowing they were far more suitable for each other.
It’s not like you were better anyways. You felt devastated when you found out, although it was expected, the only person bringing you comfort in that situation being none other than your assistant, Jungkook.
He already knew you well enough, and you’ve told him all kinds of stories along the years you’ve worked together. It was easier to forget what was happening when he was holding you close in his embrace.
The first time you gave in and stepped wrong, cheating on your husband with him, felt wrong, guilty even. But the man knew how to bring you back to him, to his bed, way too good.
Maybe it was the shared passion for crimes and mysteries, or the fact that he always listened to your worries, ending up caring for you better than your own husband.
You lay on your bed, the curtains closed. You try to get some sleep, but the case keeps you awake. It felt weird, not like sudden death, but murder.
You could not focus on anything when a case was feeling like this, so you get your phone, ready to dial his number, in a sudden being interrupted by the heavy knock on your front door.
Rushing downstairs, you think it’s Namjoon again, coming to get some other stuff he’s forgotten about, but to your surprise it’s Jungkook.
“Jungkook, what are you doing here?” you ask surprised, seeing him scratch the back of his neck shyly. “I thought we could work some more on the case.” did he even leave in the first place? That was the question you couldn’t bring to ask.
You smile, raising a brow, making way for the man to get inside, his grin brighter than ever. “I think we both know we're not gonna end up talking about the case.” you tease, making him look at you with lustful eyes.
“What do you mean?” he asks, stepping closer, your fingers caressing his chest. “You and me, alone. My husband…at work.” you whisper seductively.
“And what’s so wrong with that? He’s a jerk anyways.” he says, arms wrapping tightly around your waist. You play this game further, slowly unbuttoning his shirt.
“That’s what I was thinking too, and it’s not like you can keep your hands away from me for a second either. Let's not forget I'm a married woman, Jungkook.” your eyes scan him, he’s already way to worked up, you take it above one more step wrapping his arms around his neck.
“You husband is busy, but I’m not. I can take better care than him.” he says, his lips leaving slow, lingering kisses around your neck. “I think the case can wait, I have other important business I need to take care of.”
Jungkook lifts you up making your feet wrap around his torso, his lips never leaving your neck. And you know that once again you commit the same crime, letting this man in your house, in your bed, but the worst…in your heart.
-------------------------------
Wrapped in a blanket, both trying to catch your breath after solving the “case” found in Jungkook’s pants.
He takes a big gulp of air, leaning back on your pillows, arms spread, his face showing pure bliss.
“Wow, this was breathtaking.” he says while watching you. “It’s not my fault you’re getting old.” you respond, leaning to get the files scattered on the floor, finally working on something that’s important.
“You still have work on your mind after all of this?”
“Yes” you respond, getting out of the bed “I think we should work on it, isn’t this why you came?” you pick up his shirt, dressing yourself in it.
“Hey, that’s mine! What am I supposed to wear?” he asks in an upset tone, but with a shit-eating grin on his face making you roll your eyes.
“You don’t have to wear anything, I like it better anyways.” you wink before leaving the room, hearing the boy whine.
“This woman is gonna kill me one day…” he thinks before gathering his belongings, following you to the kitchen.
You were focused, munching on a biscuit, your eyes scanning the report papers up and down.
“Something’s not right here.” Jungkook suits himself too, grabbing a cup of water before chugging it down in one go.
“Why do you think that?” he asks, looking over your focused figure. You throw his shirt off going back to your room to properly dress up before tossing him the car keys. “We need to go back to the Choi mansion, I have a bad feeling.”
Jungkook complies, knowing your judgement is never wrong, taking no time in dressing up and in just mere seconds you were in the trabant, rushing to the Choi mansion.
Soon you arrive, the big gates opening like already expecting you. Getting out of the car you knock on the door, the air feeling eerie around.
“Oh, detective Y/L/N?” the woman who opened the door, Miss Choi, asks surprised. “We’re sorry to interrupt so soon, but is it okay if we look through your husband’s belongings? It’s important to the case.” Jungkook says in a sensitive tone.
She nods, tears gathering in her eyes at the mention of her dead husband. You two enter with her following behind, leading you to the lounge. “There’s not much left, the police already took most for the investigation, but you can have a look around if you want to.”
She takes you to her husband’s room, leaving right after to get some drinks and snacks.
“They were not joking when he said the cops took everything.” your remark while looking under a desk.
“What are these?” your assistant asks while pulling something from under a shelf. “Just some old magazines, where did you get them?” he points to the place making you go and inspect.
“Let’s move this.” you both get your hands on the shelf dragging it away, a mountain of old newspaper and wrappers falling from behind it.
“Chocolate?” you say after picking up one from the floor. “Wow, that’s a lot of candy for a diabetic.” you shoot him a look gathering more from the floor.
“They are not even expired, they must have been consumed recently.” you stuck some in your purse before moving everything back to place. You look around for some more information before something in the distance catches your eye.
“Jungkook, look at this.” you motion to the backyard, approaching the window for a better look. “It’s smoke.” he says, sitting next to you. “Yeah, definitely someone started it not long ago, I’m going to investigate.”
You rush out of the room with the boy following your steps. “Y/N, this is dangerous, I’m coming with you!” he says while catching your arm, concern plastered all over his face.
“You stay here, we can’t bring too much attention. If they ask, I'm in the spare bathroom.” you say before sneaking out the house, your phone ringing in your purse.
“Y/L/N on the phone.” it’s the policeman on the other line, the guy you talked with this morning. “The autopsy results are in. He had an insulin overdose, felt sick and then hit his head on the bathtub.”
“Yeah, great, I’m a little busy so I’ll call you later.” he doesn’t get to say another word, you end the call, getting closer to the smoke source.
“What even? That’s weird.” in front of you, laying in dim fire, a bunch of papers and documents. You put it out the best you can trying to save what’s left before your foot stomps onto something hard.
A watch.
You pick it up, scanning it before a chill of realisation hits you, making you rush back inside knowing you left Jungkook there all alone.
“Hi, this is Y/N Y/L/N on the phone. Get the guys and come to the mansion, Choi was murdered.” you manage to say to the police officer before barging in, surprising Miss Choi and Jungkook in the process.
“Don’t drink that!” You rush towards the man hitting the cup from his hands, making it hit the ground breaking in thousands of shards.
“Y/N what the hell! You spilled all the tea on me! What's wrong with you?” but you’re too focused on his well being, cupping his face in your palms, forcing him to look into your eyes, heart racing in fear.
“Tell me you didn’t drink it.” you ask with worry “No, you just threw it out of my hand!” you sigh in relief, composing yourself in order to confront Miss Choi.
“Miss Choi, where was your son the night your husband died?” you harshly question. “With his girlfriend? Why are you acting so strange?” she looks taken aback.
“Because he killed his father, along with you. Am I mistaken?” you look at her, dead in the eyes, her posture stiff. “That’s nonsense!” she raises from her chair in disbelief.
“You know what, that’s it! This conversation is over, please get out of my house!” She comes closer to push you out, but Jungkook is quick to act, shielding you.
You hear the police sirens ring, the doors of the mansion opening in a rush. “I hope you have a great explanation for this, detective.” the police officer says while pointing his gun at Miss Choi.
“I found this in your backyard, Miss Choi.” you start, pulling the burned pieces from your bag. “The true medical records of your husband and some other interesting details. You must have loved him…or should I say his money?” you browse through the burnt papers, pointing once you find the important section.
“Aha, there it is! If the two of you were to divorce you would not get any fortune? This must be your prenup. But! If it was for your husband to pass away as a natural cause…you would inherit everything. Does this sound familiar?” you look at the woman, her face showing pure horror.
“Oh, what is this? Divorce papers, all signed up just for you, but I guess your signature is not on them.” the woman gets pale as a ghost, her hands trembling.
“T-this, this is not true! Are you trying to frame me?!” she stutters while trying to keep herself composed.
“Not at all, they have sigils, stamps and original signatures, easy to check for fakes. But I suppose you need to wait a little longer, we’re just getting to the highlight of the story. The medical reports.” You throw the pieces of paper on the coffee table, keeping only the most important one.
“Mister Choi has never had diabetes.” you say with a smile on your face. “He just wanted to divorce you, and you couldn’t accept it.” the woman starts to pant for air, her hands gripping her chest.
“Miss Choi, is this true?” the policeman asks. “I didn’t want to come to this! He, he was divorcing me! I was about to lose everything!” she shouts in despair, uncovering her sick actions.
The police man gets his cuffs, putting them around her wrists.
“Miss Choi, you are under arrest for the death of Mister Choi, everything you say is and will be used against you.” she starts crying, sobbing while shouting that she didn’t want to do all this.
You throw the watch to one of the police assistants. “Get his son as well, his watch was near the pile of burnt paper.” you say staring at the scene unfolding in front of you, some realization hitting you as well.
You sigh relieved, happy that you managed to successfully solve yet another case. Jungkook drives you home, the peace around you a little too peaceful.
“Why did you hit my hand?” he asks, breaking the silence. “I was afraid she was going to put something in your tea.” you admit hearing him hum before stopping in front of your house. The atmosphere around you is quiet, the dusk setting in.
“Your husband got home.” he mentions. “Yeah, he has.” you sadly acknowledge.
You say goodbye and enter the house, your husband in the kitchen. “I heard you solved the case! Congratulations!” Namjoon says, coming closer to you, a glass of wine in his hand.
“Yes, I did.” you take the glass, swirling it around before placing it on the counter.
“Namjoon, we need to talk.” you say while looking into his eyes, it was time.
-----------------------------------
Your heart was pounding in your chest sitting in front of the door, wondering if you should knock or not. “Come on Y/N, you can do it.” you say before knocking once, your heart exploding while hearing his voice on the other side.
“Coming!” You fix your hair and put up a big smile when Jungkook opens the door, dressed only in a pair of gray sweatpants, his skin smelling like fresh soap from a mile away.
“Y/N? What are you doing here?” he asks, confused. “I figured we could work on some cases, mind if I come in?” you rush to say, feeling slightly embarrassed.
“Yeah, sure, but…is everything okay?” he asks while letting you inside, putting a black t-shirt on.
“Do you love me?”
“What question is that?” his cheeks get brighter at your sudden boldness.
“I just want you to be honest with me, do you love me or not?” you ask again, looking at his rigid form.
“Well…I want to say yes.”
“Then say yes.”
“You are married, Y/N.” he finally lets out, a pang tugging at his heart knowing he souldn't feel the way he’s feeling.
“Not anymore.” you whisper, showing your ringless finger. “I’m divorcing.”
“What.” he lets out in disbelief.
“Mister Choi’s case made me realize something, you can’t stay with a person for what he has or what he can give you. I want someone that loves me and knows how to cherish me.” you shyly say before locking eyes with the man in front of you.
“Then yes, I love you. So, so much. I’ve loved you for the past years, ever since I got assigned to be your assistant.” he comes closer to you, sticking his chest to yours, but not touching further.
“You drive me crazy in so many ways, you’re smart and can unravel even the most tangled cases. You’re to die for pretty and so sexy when you look at me with those eyes of yours, it makes me jealous to know I couldn’t find you first.” he finally touches you, his fingers gently cupping your waist.
“I’m so mad when I think of that stupid ex husband of yours managing to have you all for himself just to cheat and leave you weak and exposed. Or when I think of way too many ways to make you look at me, to let me claim you.” his face comes closer to yours, many emotions erupting between the both of you.
“Or when I get that sweet taste of your lips, and I rip those moans out, making me so fucking proud to please you, even if it’s wrong.” he kisses you, slow and tangy, but not for long, letting you desire for more.
“I love you. I’m greedy and I want you all for myself.” your eyes get teary, a feeling of comfort, safeness getting into you. You felt at home.
Wrapping your arms around the man you bring him close enough to whisper onto his lips. “Then have me for yourself.” you say, enough words for Jungkook to comply. Shoving your clothes off in no go, leaving you exposed only for his eyes to see, passion burning around the apartment.
His hands lead you to his bedroom, shoving you in his bed, not breaking the hot kiss he’s gotten you trapped in.
He pulls the t-shirt over his head, his pants following right after. You look with so much love and lust at him, your hands bringing him closer by the band of his boxers, making him whine.
“Pull them off, baby.” his tone, seductive, encouraging you to touch him further. You do it, taking off his boxers, letting his cock spring free in front of you.
“Y/N, if you keep looking at me with those eyes of yours, I’ll cum right now.” he admits, slightly embarrassed, face flustered, aching member leaking with arousal.
“Should we get to the good part then?” you question, biting your lip.
“All of this is the good part…”
You lay down, not breaking eye contact, letting him climb on top. His hands rest on your thighs spreading them nice and wide. “You’re drippin’ baby.” his eyes never leave your sloppy count.
“Just do something, Kook, I’m dying here.” he chuckles before gripping his cock, giving it a few tugs before bringing it closer to your entrance.
“From today, only I get to see and touch this.” he possessively says, licking his lips before pushing his tip inside of you, making you moan.
“You’re so hot and tight.” he whimpers, bowing his head at the sensitivity. “Please move.” you mewl, waiting for him to start pounding you the way you deserve.
He starts off slow, wanting the moment to last, but in a couple of minutes his peace gets faster and faster, making you see stars in the process.
You whine and cry underneath him, feeling so full and so good, his cock hitting all the right spots inside of you, letting you know you made the right choice to leave your husband for him.
He was pulling your strings so well, grunting every now and then when he touched that sweet spot of yours making you squirm or when you moaned too loud, knowing he'd hit your cervix just a little too deep.
“Jungkook! I’m close!” you shout, the ceiling above you turning from black to white. He keeps his rough pace, hitting deeper and deeper if possible.
“I’m close too, baby.” he whispers before giving one last thrust, spilling his hot seed inside of you, claiming you as his.
You reach your high as well, fingers clawing at his back, trying to bring him in for some closure, both of your arousal slipping your fluttering core. He rests his head on the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent, kissing your neck every now and then.
You raise his head, swearing you could see an entire galaxy into his eyes. He was yours now, and you were his, both of you ready to throw everything aside for each other.
You smile lovely at him, knowing he will forever be your happy place, your passion, your crime.
#kpop imagines#jungkook#bts jungkook#kpop fanfic#bts#bts imagines#jeon jungkook#jungkook fanfic#jungkook x reader#jungkook x y/n#jungkook smut#bts smut
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txt as your boyfriends (sfw)
pairing: txt x gn!reader genre: fluff, headcanons warnings: none ig? tell me if there's anything btw!! a/n: i hope it was worth the waiting :(( i have writer's block constantly so i try very hard to not make y'all wait for too long, sooo enjoy!!!
| choi yeonjun |
likes to show up together at every event or party
he just likes the idea that you both belong with each other, he's so proud he has someone like you so why not show you off a little bit? and if course he likes it vice versa ;))
loves to take care of you, especially when you're tired or sick
tries cooking for you but the kitchen is a total mess... he's not necessarily neat so cleaning is mostly on you.... he's just too clumsy for it
very affectionate and communicative about his feelings
he's very emotionally available and every time there's a problem he's ready to talk it out and solve it together, so you almost never argue
probably confessed first
no but like i really do believe he's someone who would make the first move, who would take you out on fancy restaurants dates and shopping dates, who would confess his feelings first and just would do most of the work lol
needs a lot of reassurance about his work and appearance
he's sometimes insecure and too harsh on himself, as he's a very hardworking perfectionist, so he needs support and some nice words from time to time just to feel better
| choi soobin |
professional yapper
yaps to you all the fucking time. when members are tired of his yapping, they just send him off to you. “take it, it's yours” they say, pushing him into the room to you and closing the door. and what else can you do besides just listen to all of that?
dates by him are usually calm
every time he plans a date, it's usually something that wouldn't take a lot of energy, so you'd spend more time talking
very genuine with you
he just lets his guard down whenever he's around you, and it means he's relaxed the most with you. he's childish, giggly, and honest
lets you take the lead
y'all i believe he'd rarely make the first move, and it keeps on going. he can take the lead, but he'd rather not, especially in something like going out or talking to the waiters
nerdy af
spends 90% of his free time playing video games, showing off his skills to you and teaching you how to play (it's a bonus if you're a gamer like him); he likes a gf who is interested in learning ab his hobbies ^^
| choi beomgyu |
encourages you to step out of your comfort zone
he is the kind of person who will help you and try something new with you, even if it's stressful or scary for both of y'all. he will encourage the hell out of you so there's nothing left to do than to try
words are his weapon
no matter if it's about the volume of his words or the value, but both ways, they're very significant ;)
very attentive
buys you the best gifts, prepares the best dates, and remembers everything about you; he thinks it's important to show how much you matter to him
needs some private time
he's an introvert and no matter how loud he is, he's sometimes tired of being in a company. gyu needs to be alone pretty often, but he will make this up to you when he recharges
the best listener
he loves listening to you and doesn't really care what specifically you're talking ab.. sometimes he spaces out, but most of the time he listens :)))
| kang taehyun |
acts of service is his love language
he doesn't really say 'i love you', but he shows his love through small and not-so-small actions. he plans dates for anniversaries, gifts you flowers every now and then, and is a gentleman ^^
shares his knowledge with you
it's not a secret that he's very smart, and he loves sharing his knowledge with you; he only does this, when you ask ab something tho
impresses you all the time
no matter if it's his magic tricks, his physical appeareance or his knowledge and if he does this on purpose or not, but he does constantly impress you
plans his future with you
he shows how serious relationships are to him and includes you in his future, your future house, your future pet, and possible future family :)))
is never boring
he loves adventures and excitement, and he bring those into your relationship too. you'll go on spontaneous trips, some exotic places or concerts just to have fun
| huening kai |
sharing is caring
shares his things with you, whether it be hoodies, plushies, or food, he shares and sometimes doesn't even notice this
quiet and embarrassed 90% of the time
he doesn't like talking ab himself, so he listens to you. he's not so self-confident, so he gets embarrassed a lot. he'd be thankful for lots of reassurance, or else he might doubt himself :((
loves physical affection
it's easy for him to show how much he loves someone by touching them. he loves hugging, holding hands, kissing you, caressing your tummy, and anything related to physical affection
babies you a lot
loves treating you with special care and treatment, doing everything for you (including chores), and taking care of you all the time
the most supportive
is interested in everything you do, attends any events that are important to you and always praises you for your good work ^^
✉ thank you for reading ✉
#txt fluff#txt imagines#tubatu#txt#yeonjun#soobin#beomgyu#taehyun#hueningkai#txt post#txt x you#txt x reader#txt x y/n#txt headcanons
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Morning wood with EE73?? Please and thank you 🩷
[ good morning to you too ] e. edwards
➾ paring : Ethan Edwards x fem!reader
➾ summary : friends become lovers when an awkward moment turns into a morning of passion
➾ warning(s) : smut !! morning wood, fingering, soft morning sex, unprotected p in v sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy), nicknames during sex, a single use of “y/n”
➾ author’s note : this was supposed to be a short lil thing but then i got carried away and it’s now 90% smut and 10% plot (oops)
༺═──────────────═༻
Her entire body slowly wakes up from head to toe when she wakes from her light sleep. At first she feels nothing as she comes out of her sleep, then she slowly begins to feel something poking the back of her thigh. She’s very quick to realize that it’s Ethan’s dick that’s poking her. She remains very still so she doesn’t cause anything to happen. Especially since he’s already moving a little bit.
Then the worst case scenario happens. Ethan mumbles her name in his sleep. It’s her nickname that only he calls her.
She moves quickly but hopefully carefully out of bed to avoid what will be a very embarrassing moment for the both of them.
What she thought was graceful was really not. She ends up scrambling out of bed and falls to the ground. Ethan wakes up and looks over the side of the bed.
“Uh, good morning to you too?” he says, phrasing it like a question. “Why did you decide to fall out of bed?”
She stares up at him. “You have, um …” she trails off. “A problem. It poked me. I was trying to leave you to take care of it but ended up falling out of bed.” And you said my name remains unsaid.
That’s territory that she’s not sure she wants to enter. It will change everything between them if she says it. She isn’t interested in ruining the most important friendship she has.
Ethan leans back to see what she means. She watches his cheeks turn tomato red from the ground. “Oh shit,” he gasps. “I am so sorry. I didn’t- this rarely happens. It would happen when you sleep over. I-”
“You can’t control it,” she interrupts. “It’s natural. I’ll just leave and go make breakfast so you can take care of it.”
As she stands up, she realizes that between her thighs is damp and there’s a pit in the bottom of her stomach like she’s turned on. She presses her lips into a tight line and crosses one leg over the other to put some pressure on her core.
Yeah, this is super embarrassing. She can’t believe that her body is betraying her like this.
“(Y/N), come here,” he orders.
“Ethan, I-”
“Come here, Sunny,” he tries again, this time with an emphasis on her nickname.
She remembers the day he started calling her Sunny.. It was their freshman year and she was having a bad day. They met in English 101 at nine in the morning. He noticed that she wasn’t having the best day and said to her, “Well, aren’t you a ray of fucking sunshine.” She just glared at him not knowing that they were going to be the best of friends within the month.
Ethan called her ‘Sunshine’ for a few weeks until she got tired of it, so he shortened it to ‘Sunny’ right as Michigan went on winter break.
Clearly, he still uses it. It still makes her feel something. Especially now after she heard him moan her nickname in his sleep while he has morning wood.
The use of her nickname pulls her right to him. She sits with her legs crisscrossed on the side of the bed that she slept on. Her hands are folded on her lap to hide what’s probably a very obvious wet spot on the grey shorts she decided to wear to bed last night.
He sits up and lets the blankets fall to his waist. His hair is a complete mess since he’s just moving for the first time all morning. He quickly runs his hands through the mess to tame it before he turns his attention to his best friend.
“Do you trust me?” Ethan questions. She nods to answer his question. “I need you to use your words. I need to make sure that you trust me.”
“I trust you, E,” she tells him.
Ethan sighs and moves himself closer to her. He puts a hand on her knee and she sharply inhales. She looks at his hand before looking at his face. Their eyes meet and she immediately begins to relax.
This is Ethan Edwards. He wouldn’t do something if she didn’t want him to. She trusts him and he knows that.
He leans into her and claims her lips in a gentle kiss. She leans further into him and reciprocates the kiss. The pair test the waters between them as their relationship takes a turn she never thought would happen.
In the three years she’s known him, she’s wanted him. He had girlfriend after girlfriend or was hooking up with girls so she never got the chance to try anything with him. This is that chance.
The kiss deepens when Ethan brings his free hand up to cup her jaw. She allows herself to wrap one of her hands around his wrist so he doesn’t move his hand. She leans into the light touch. Her free hand slides into his hair so he doesn’t back away from her.
She finally has him and she doesn’t want to let him go. She also makes it a point not to rush anything. She lets Ethan take full control for the time being.
Her lips part and Ethan slips his tongue past them. She gasps as Ethan licks into her mouth. A soft hum follows.
His free hand drops to her waist and he pulls her closer to him. She throws one of her legs over his tights and straddles him over the blankets. She feels the bulge on her core through the covers.
Ethan lies down until he’s on his back with his head on the pillows. She follows him and her hair forms a curtain around their faces as the kiss quickens. One of Ethan’s hands pushes her hair back and she smiles into the kiss that follows. His other hand runs up and down her back slowly.
“Need you to do more, E,” she mumbles between kisses. “Please. Please.”
“You’ve never been patient, have you?” he teases. Ethan pulls back and meets her eyes. There’s a layer of lust that covers and darkens them.
“I’ve been patient enough,” she admits. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this to happen, Ethan.” He blinks at her. “So, I need you to stop taking this slow and do something. Anything, E.”
Almost like he’s been given permission to do anything he wants to her, which she basically has, Ethan flips them so she’s on her back and her hair forms a halo around her head on the pillows. She smiles and stares up at him.
Ethan kneels between her knees to pull off his Michigan hockey t-shirt and tosses it to the floor. She runs her hands from the waistband of his pajama pants up his chest. She traces his toned stomach and bites her lip. His hand fall to the bottom of her borrowed t-shirt and he dips his fingers underneath. She pulls the fabric up and off her body. His eyes fall to her naked upper body, and she doesn’t feel uncomfortable under his gaze. She stares up at him as a finger runs from her lips and down her body until it reaches the waistband of her shorts.
Impatiently, she lifts her hips so Ethan can slide off her shorts. He smiles and hooks his fingers in her shorts. It isn’t long before he tugs them down and leaves her completely naked beneath him. Her legs drop to the side for him.
“Fuck, Sunny,” Ethan sighs as leans down to press little kisses to her stomach. “So beautiful. All for me. All mine. You’re all mine now.”
“I’m all yours,” she breathes out. “Please, Ethan.”
“I’ve got you, pretty girl,” he assures her. “I’ll take care of you.”
She feels one of his fingers run through her slick folds. It catches her off guard and she hums. Her eyes flutter shut and she lets her sense of touch take over. She runs her fingers through his hair.
One finger turns into two, and both his fingers push into her. She gasps and curls her fingers in his hair. Ethan begins to flick his wrist and curl his fingers inside her in a ‘come here’ motion. “Oh my- fuck, Ethan,” she groans.
He kisses the inside of her upper thigh. His movements speed up slightly and she’s a shaking mess underneath his touch.
Her teeth dig into her bottom lip to stay quiet since she’s in a house full of hockey players. The last thing she or Ethan want right now is for them to be too loud and his teammates come knocking on the door or mess with him when he leaves the room. It takes everything in her to not scream his name when he adds a third finger while he continues the ‘come here’ motion.
A knot forms and immediately begins to tighten in her belly. Ethan crawls up her body so they’re face to face, but his fingers stay where they are.
“Ethan,” she pants. “E. I’m gonna cum. Fuck, I’m close.”
He withdraws his finger as soon as the last word comes out of her mouth. She frowns and looks up at him as he licks her slick off of the three fingers that were inside of her. She could cum just from that, but she does her best to wait.
“My fingers aren’t going to be the thing that makes you cum, pretty Sunny,” Ethan tells her as he kneels between her legs. “Not this time when I have been waiting years to get inside of you.”
He pushes his pajama pants and boxers off his body. Her eyes widen slightly as his dick pops out of his boxers. She knows the stories that have been floating around campus so she’s aware how big he is and she saw how big his bulge was in his pants.
She might die today. She wasn’t prepared for all those stories and rumors to be true.
Ethan settles himself between her legs and leans down to hover over her. She stares up at him and feels his tip at her entrance.
“Last chance to stop,” Ethan tells her. “Tell me know if you don’t want this, Sunny.”
“I want this,” she assures him. “I want this more than you will ever know, Ethan. I want you. I need you.”
With her full permission, Ethan slowly pushes into her. She bites her bottom lip and hums as he fills her with his cock. Her back arches off the bed at the feeling. He pushes into her until he bottoms out.
He allows her to adjust to his size before he begins to roll his hips. Ethan starts slow before slowly speeding up every few thrusts. Her hums turn into moans as Ethan moves deeper into her.
She wants this moment to be never ending. She knows that now she can have him whenever she wants and she gets to re-live this moment, but she’ll never experience this moment again. This moment when she allowed herself to be with Ethan after denying herself for the longest time. She let herself be vulnerable with the guy she trusts the most in this world.
Their friendship has officially turned into something more, and she is excited to see where it goes. She’s dreamed of this for almost a year and a half when she realized she wanted to be more than friends with him at one of the hockey celebration parties after an important win.
This is a chance of a lifetime for her. To be with the only guy that she’s wanted for the past 18 months or so. This is it.
A loud moan passes her lips as Ethan throws one of her legs over his shoulder and moves as deep as he can at the new angle. He quickly leans down and kisses her to quiet her. The kiss is feverish from the start and she hums every time Ethan thrusts his hips into her. He keeps her from getting too loud and the moan slipped by.
Her arms are wrapped around his neck and her fingers are in his hair. The bed creaks with every thrust of Ethan’s hips.
Soon, Ethan’s lips are not enough to keep her quiet. Moans bubble from her throat as he rolls his hips as fast as he can while moving as deep as he can.
“Holy fuck, E,” she gasps. “I’m close. Wanna cum so bad. Please.”
Ethan hums. “‘m close too, pretty girl,” he tells her as he pulls back from the hot kiss. “Wanna cum with you.”
She throws her head back as Ethan hits her favorite spot over and over again. The knot threatens to come undone any second and she pants the closer she gets to her pending orgasm.
Her legs shake as she holds herself off. She can feel her walls clenching around Ethan and she’s at her limit.
“Ethan!” she cries out as she cums around his dick. “Oh my God. Fuck, E.”
Her breathing becomes extremely labored and her vision goes white as she releases. She is so out of it that she doesn’t feel Ethan pull out and cum on her thighs and stomach. Her head is in the clouds and it takes her a few minutes to come down.
It can’t get any better than that, right? Then she realizes that she hasn’t gotten his tongue and realizes it could get so much better than that.
When she comes back to reality, there’s a wet cloth on her stomach and thighs. She looks down and watches as Ethan cleans up his mess. He looks up at her and smiles. “Welcome back,” he teases.
“Your fault,” she retorts.
Ethan throws the cloth in the direction of his bathroom before he crawls next to her. He throws the blankets over the two of them before he lies on his side to look at her. His head rests on his hand and he holds himself up with his elbow. She reaches up to trace his jawline.
There are footsteps outside of Ethan’s door, signaling that someone is up. Hopefully they didn’t wake whoever it is up with their morning activities.
“Why haven’t we done that before?” Ethan questions. “I mean, that was really fucking good. I might need to go another round soon.”
“Don’t you have practice soon?”
He quickly flips over to grab his phone. “Oh, shit,” he gasps at the same time a knock rings throughout the room.
“Yo, Eddy!” Luca calls through the door. “You ready to go?”
She giggles as Ethan runs frantically around the room to find something to wear to practice. He makes a point to stop and leave a lingering kiss on her lips.
“We’ll talk when I get back,” he tells her. “Don’t go anywhere, okay? Promise I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
She nods in agreement and watches Ethan run out the door. Luca’s voice carries in the hall. “I didn’t want to interrupt you but we were gonna be late,” Luca says as the two of them walk away.
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An Hour and Half | L.Hughes
summary - what happens when your flight seat mate happens to be a super cute guy and you only have an hour and half to talk to him
warnings/note- none; i have no clue how long a plane ride is from new jersey to detroit is sooo im guessing
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“Hi, excuse me, my seat is by the window, if you don’t care to let me through?” You ask the young guy sitting in the middle seat in your row. He was wearing a ‘drew’ hoodie with black sweatpants.
Looking up at you from his phone, he immediately gets out of his seat. “Oh gosh, sorry! Of course, go ahead.” You give him a small smile and squeeze through to get to your seat. You loved taking the window seat, however you hated the awkwardness of getting through the row.
“Thank you,” You wince. “Oh, wait! Before you sit down, I hate to ask, but can you grab my water bottle out of the black and white carry on up above? I’m so sorry, I completely forgot about it!” The guy nods and opens the compartment and finds the water bottle.
“It’s no problem, really. Is there anything else you need?” He asks as he hands the bottle over to you.
You shake your head. “No, I think I’m all set.” The guy nods once again and sits back down in his seat.
You go back to getting comfortable in your seat and reply back to your mom telling her that you made it on to the plane. While the flight attendants go over the safety precautions, you can’t help but to side eye the cute guy sitting next to you. He had roughly curled hair and some small stubble on his face. He looked a bit tired.
He must’ve noticed you side eyeing him because he removes his earbud and asks, “Did you need out? Sorry, I can’t hear anything with these,” he points to his earbud.
Immediately blushing, because there’s no way that he totally didn’t see you checking him out, you reply, “Oh, no! I’m all good! Also, doesn’t seem like anybody else is in the row so that’s good!”
The guy smiles at your nervousness. “Yeah, it makes the plane ride ten times better when nobody is at the end of the row. Although for you, you would have to ask me to move but still, one person is better than two to get through,” the guy laughs out.
“Honestly though. Last plane ride I was on, none of the people sitting in my row would move, so I had to awkwardly try to go over them. Gosh, it was so embarrassing but why not just move out of the way!” The guy laughs at that, putting his earbuds back into his case.
“Well, if you need me to move, just ask and I will. Since we’re here for a bit, guess I’ll introduce myself, my name is Luke.” He sticks his hand out for you to shake and introduce yourself. You’re not one to talk much to the person sitting next to you on the plane, but something about him honestly has you intrigued.
Shaking his hand, you say, “My name is Y/N, nice to meet you.”
“Y/N, lovely name. So are you heading to Michigan as a trip or do you have family there?” He asks as he returns his hand back to his lap.
You lean against the window. “I actually have some family there, and it’s my grandmother’s 90th birthday so I’m heading back to that. I’ll stay for a bit. What about you? What has you going to Michigan?” You raise your eyebrow waiting on his answer.
“Wow, 90 years old, go her,” he smiles, “Well, long story is my team just finished for the season and I’m heading home to be with the family and spend time with friends that I need to catch up with.”
You nod. “If that’s the long story, what would the short story be?”
He laughs and tries to think, “Um, the short story would probably be going home, but the long story was better.” You laugh as you fiddle with the water bottle in your hand.
You go back to asking about his team he mentioned. “So your team? What sport do you play?”
He looks at you weirdly for a second before giving a toothy grin. “Do you live in New Jersey?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Have you heard of the New Jersey Devils?” Luke asks.
You think back to a sign you saw. “Honestly, I saw a billboard about them, and I think my co-worker is obsessed with them, but mostly no.”
He lets out another laugh, and you raise your eyebrow. “You live in New Jersey, and you barely know about the New Jersey Devils? Do you know or watch anything about hockey?”
“I mean, I seen that one movie. Gosh, what is it? Is it like called ‘sensation’ or something?” You try to think. “Oh gosh, no! It wasn’t called ‘sensation’ it was called—”
He cuts you off, “Miracle.”
You scream out, “Yes!” Then wince as you realize that was a bit loud. Lowering your voice, you continue, “Yes, the hockey movie called Miracle. My dad made me watch all the time, but that’s all I know about hockey really.” You shrug.
If Luke didn’t know better, he already knows that he wants to get to know you better. “Miracle’s a good movie. Anyway, back to my team, I actually play for the New Jersey Devils.”
You shake your head, not believing him. “No way, prove it!”
Luke grabs his phone out of his pocket and shows you a recent game day photo of him in his jersey. “See, jersey, skates, and everything. I play on the defense side.”
You take a minute, probably too long, to look at the photo. Gosh, he did look in his jersey, and his hair was a bit longer in that photo. “Okay, I believe you. So, do you like it? Sorry, if that’s a bit too much to ask, I’m just a curious person.”
“No, it’s okay. Honestly, I love it. Some days and games are a bit tougher than others, but I still love it no matter what. I actually play with one of my older brothers on the team,” Luke says, a bit proud of playing with his brother.
“That’s awesome, I couldn’t imagine playing with my brother on a team, so that’s really awesome,” you say.
“Yeah, it really is,” he beams, “Anyway, the season just ended for us last week due to getting eliminated from the playoffs.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. That must suck!”
“Yeah, but we have a chance to look over the season and come back better next season. Like yeah it sucks, but I also get to go home early. It’s a win lose situation,” he shrugs.
“Still, I see how it would suck, but if you didn’t get eliminated, you wouldn’t be on this plane talking to me right now,” you smile.
“Ha, I guess you’re right,” he guides a hand through his curls. “Enough about my job, what do you do back in New Jersey?”
You wince at the mention of talking about what you do for work. Your job recently wasn’t doing it for you. You had been working at an advertising agency for a while now, but after awhile, you decided it was not for you. You wanted a new job, but you also haven’t been looking. “Eh, I work at an advertising agency. Overall, it pays the bills, but it’s not my favorite.”
Luke replies, “Did you go to school for advertising or something related?”
You shake your head, “No, I actually went for public relations, but somehow I got this job in advertising. One of my friends put in a good word for me, but I have slowly started to dread going to work.”
Luke nods, “I’m sorry that you don’t like your job.”
You shrug, looking passed him to the couple across the aisle. “Honestly, I should really get a new job if I hate it so much, but the idea of going through the process of applying and interviewing is so nerve wracking for me.”
Luke listens to see if you’re going to add anymore before talking. Truthfully, you’ve never seen a guy take the time to listen so well about your problems, let alone a stranger you just met. He speaks up again, “Although that would be nerve wracking, it would mean that you get a chance to get a new job. I say go for it, especially since you’re not loving the job you already have. You should have a job that you love to do, not a job that just pays the bills.” Honestly, Luke has no idea where all these encouraging words are coming from, but he was just letting them spill out in the chance it would help you.
“You’re right, I totally should. You’ve changed my perspective, I guess when I head back to New Jersey I’ll look at job openings related to what I want to do,” you say, smiling up at him.
You and Luke continue to talk for the next hour on the plane. Talking about various adventures you’ll both get into when you’re back in Michigan, he talks about his brothers and how they both play in the NHL, and you talk about your grandparents and how they are you’re world. Time has a sense of flying by when you’re enjoying time with someone, and surprisingly you’re enjoying and loving the time talking to Luke. Even though you both just met, you two could talk forever. You really didn’t want to get off the plane as that would mean you wouldn’t be able to talk to him much more.
An hour or so later, the moment you had been dreading since talking to him has come, time to depart the plane. You’re walking down the hallway leading out of the plane when Luke speaks up next to you. “I know it’s crazy that we just met, but honestly you’re the easiest person to talk to that I have ever met. Hopefully that made sense?”
You nod, looking into his eyes, trying to savor the last look at him. “It made sense. I think the same goes for me. You listened to what I had to say, which is surprising because most people stop listening to me after awhile,” you blush at his intense stare, actually noticing how tall he was when you stood next to him.
You both make it through the exit. Luke turns to you again and tries to say, “Since we’re both gonna be here in Michigan for a bit, we should—” but he gets cut off by someone yelling. “LUKE!”
You both turn to where the sudden yelling was from. He mumbles, a hint of red touching his cheeks, “my brother, Quinn.” You nod, moving to the side so he can hug his brother.
Quinn must notice you, because he says to Luke, “Oh, sorry for interrupting, go ahead.” He pushed Luke to go back talking to you, but when he does, he notices that you have walked off to meet with, what he assumes is, your grandparents.
He smiles as he watches you hug and kiss them both. He watches as you hold a finger, signaling them to hold on for a second, and you walk back over to him. “I’m sorry, I gotta head on out, it was so lovely to meet you and talk to you, Luke.”
He smiles, “It was great to meet you, too, Y/N. As I was trying to say before, since we’re both in Michigan for a bit, how about we try and hang out?”
You try to stay cool, but you still let out a massive grin. “Yes, absolutely! I would love to!”
“Great! Reach out to me!” He moves closer to you, before he chickens out, he pulls you into a hug. You instantly hug him back, thinking it was crazy how you just met him and now don’t want him to go. “Bye, see you soon,” he says, pulling away and walking towards his brother.
You stand there a bit in shock before yelling across to him, “Wait, but I don’t have your number!”
Luke turns around, he gives you a grin, “Check your bag! I might’ve put it in there while I was getting it down!” You blush, giving him a thumbs up before heading over to your grandparents with the biggest grin on your face.
-
Later on, you finally get to unpacking your bag. Upon unzipping it, a piece of paper falls out. He must’ve written it when you went to the bathroom. Written on it, it says…
“It was great meeting you, and you’re the best person ever to talk to. If you ever need someone to listen, call me… xxxxxxxx”
Needless to say, you did call him, and he listened to you all night long. Both of you were in over your heads with each other.
#luke hughes#luke hughes blurb#luke hughes x reader#luke hughes imagine#luke hughes imagines#hockey imagines#hockey fics#nhlhockey fic#nhl imagines
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