#because yeah he's your husband but also like. you have one child

[polka-spots]

I have to say that I'm cross with Wolf Hall because I've always been staunchly "yeah I agree with ditching Rome (because I have strong views on the church as an institution which I won'tgo into) but not with ditching Katherine" and over the course of this book I've been swayed to team "...yeah I get where Henry was coming from apart from the locking her in mouldy houses bit" without noticing FUCK

[slttygeto]

༉‧₊˚. "Shut up, mom!" prank with JJK men.

➜ featuring: nanami kento, gojo satoru, geto suguru.

➜synopsis: your child(ren) has a death wish for sure.

➜note: wasn't able to pick a name for nanami's child. also sorry to the anon who sent this, i had a hard time understanding the request at first. anyway, part 2?

༉‧₊˚. reblog + comment!

༉‧₊˚. NANAMI KENTO

“You need to start learning how to fold your clothes,” you mention casually to your daughter as you carry a basket of warm laundry to the couch.

“Why would I do that?” Nanami’s eyes look up from his book, but he doesn’t budge.

“When you move out, you will only have yourself to rely on,” you continue with the advice and your daughter rolls her eyes as she makes her way to the kitchen.

“Ugh moving out this, moving out that. Just say you want to get rid of me.”

“What–I would never, I’m just reminding you that one day you will become an adult and–”

“Oh just shut up, mom!” 

You truly gave birth to a mini you, a prankster. When you first saw the tiktok trend, you and your daughter had giggled to yourselves at the thought of getting a reaction out of her father. Though, you did warn her of the repercussions. Your husband did not play when it came to showing respect to you.

“I beg your pardon?” Nanami sits up from the couch so fast, it almost makes you jump out of your skin. You don’t have time to react, or hold him back before he is storming towards the kitchen where your teenage daughter was hiding. “What did you just say to your mother?”

“I said shut up, because she was bothering me.”

“And you think that’s one way to speak to my wife?” You see his eyebrows furrow, he even slams the book he was reading down on the kitchen counter so hard that his arm veins are about to pop out.

“Kento,” you walk up behind him, calling out his name softly.

“No, let me take this.”

“No baby listen–”

“I said I will take this.” It’s only when he repeats himself in a stern manner, that your daughter starts to giggle nervously.

“Daddy, it was a prank.”

“Yeah, baby it’s a prank.” You rub his shoulders and biceps reassuringly. Your daughter quickly wraps her arms around his waist and buries her face in his chest.

“I’d never be disrespectful like that.”

“Yeah well, it almost gave me a heart attack,” his voice is now much softer and warmer as he exhales, running his fingers through his daughter’s hair. He pulls you towards him and kisses your forehead before patting his daughter’s head.

“Now, whose idea was it?”

“Mommy’s.”

“Hey!” 

༉‧₊˚. GOJO SATORU

“Hey Ryuu, could you take out the trash please?” 

“No, I’m busy.” Satoru’s ears perk up at the sound of his son’s tone. But he doesn’t budge from where he’s standing in the kitchen.

“Baby, it’s been sitting there all day and it’s full. Could you please–”

“Shut up, mom. I said I’m busy.”

Normally, Satoru wasn’t easy to rile up. His relationship with his son was hilarious, one where he doted on his child whilst the latter pretended as though he couldn’t stand all the love and affection he received from his dad. But despite all the love that Satoru had for his son, you were number one. You come first, you are his wife and the mother of his child. When his son will leave, you will be the one he gets to spend the rest of his time with–and when he decided to marry you, a child wasn’t even in the picture.

So he will be damned if he was just going to stand there and let his son talk to you like that.

You freeze when you feel a sudden surge of cursed energy–you knew your husband when he got angry, it clouded over the rational part of his brain. So when you see him start to walk upstairs where his son is, you have to physically grab his arm to stop him. Thank god the infinity was off.

“Satoru– toru! Baby!”

“Who the fuck does he think he is, huh?” His eyes are glowing. You really shouldn’t have played this prank on him.

“It’s a prank baby.” 

“A prank?” It’s fascinating how this man can go from 0 to 100 back to 0 so quickly. He calms down so fast, glancing at the top of the stairs where he sees his son standing with his hands in his pockets.

“I told her it would be a bad idea.”

“I–hey! I didn’t think it was gonna be this bad,”

“I did,” Ryuu starts to walk down the stairs and past you two. “He’s said it before. He doesn’t play when it comes to people showing you respect, even if it’s his own son.” 

Satoru can only sigh at his son’s words before staring at you. “Don’t do that again.”

“I won’t…But I won’t lie, seeing you riled up like that–”

“I’m too old to have a sibling!”

༉‧₊˚. GETO SUGURU

Your girls were a giggly mess. You shush them before saying very loudly.

“In what world is this acceptable?” 

“Mom,” your daughter, Tsukimi, feigns an annoyed tone, refusing to look up from her phone. “I really don’t care.”

“But I do.” You stand over her bed, motioning for her twin sister to get into the role as well.

“Does it matter?” Asahi uses the same annoyed, bored tone. One that quickly catches Suguru’s attention. He walks into the main area from the garage before hearing the argument upstairs. 

Quickly wiping his hands with the dirty rag attached to his pants, he starts to make his way up to your twin daughters’ room to see what it was about. 

“Of course it does, I’m your mother.”

“You’re really just pushing it.”

“You sneaked out last night! Do you know how disappointed your father will be?” Suguru freezes up at the revelation. But he doesn’t let his disappointment or anger get the best of him, maybe the four of you can work this out–your girls were at a rebellious age, this was bound to happen and all he needs to do is figure out a way for all of you to get along without–

“Aren’t you supposed to be our best friend or something?” Tsukimi sits up on the bed, furrowing her eyebrows in a way that reminds you how similar her and her father’s features are. 

“Right now I’m your mother.” 

“Oh would you just shut up?”

A loud slam makes the three of you flinch, and you turn to find Suguru standing by the door looking as angry as a raging bull.

“Who said it.”

“Wha–”

“Who said it. Who was it?” He is so furious you could see steam coming out from the top of his head. “Have you lost your fucking minds to be talking to your mother like that? Did I fail at educating you or what?”

“Suguru–”

“No,” he puts a hand on your shoulder, gently pushing you out of the room. “I need to talk to them.”

“No wait, listen–”

“I don’t want to hear it.” When you see that he had a stern look on his face, you realize that you need to save your daughters from the prank.

“It was a prank. I promise you.” 

“It really was a prank,” your twin daughters are sitting on the same bed, looking as sheepish and as guilty as ever. 

“And it was my idea,” Tsukimi adds. 

“And I didn’t stop her.” Your thumbs trace his cheeks, smiling apologetically at him. “Sorry,” 

Suguru sighs, resting his hands on his hips as he shakes his head.

“Fucking prankters. That almost gave me a heart attack.”

“But admit it, we’re good actresses, right?” Asahi asks with a grin and Suguru chuckles before ruffling her hair.

“Yeah, you sure are.”

➜ ┊: COMMISSIONS | KOFI

2024 © all works belong to @slttygeto. do not repost, translate or steal any of my works.

[nereidprinc3ss]

i keep you clean; you surrounded me

in which husband!spencer reid spirals after realizing he can't be your daughter's hero forever.

angst, fluff warnings/tags: this fic is about spencer's past addiction, and how he's afraid it will impact his relationship with his daughter, conversation about alcohol, this is a fix-it fic for my life, ends on a hopeful/positive note, lots of self-loathing from Spencer, uses the phrase "shooting up", PLEASE do not read if this is going to upset you!! PLEASE!! fem!reader a/n: this felt healing in a way for me but that might not be your experience reading if you also have issues with a parent with addiction so please tread lightly and make the right choices for you. CHOOSE YOUR MENTAL HEALTH OVER MY DUMB FANFIC I CAN'T STRESS THAT ENOUGH!! and ily

“Daddy?”

Ada’s not asking for you, but you look to her anyway. She’s squeezed between you and Spencer on Rossi’s swing, and her cheeks are still feverish—remnants of a recent and rather hysterical fit of giggles. She has a glass of lemonade between her little hands (you’re trusting her with a big girl cup, if only because it’s not your glass or your house) and she peers into it intently. Her little grass-stained feet kick. Spencer pushes the swing back ever so slightly, for her entertainment. 

“Huh?”

She holds her glass up for him. 

“Our drinks are the same color.”

“They are,” he nods. “Do you like yellow?”

Ada shrugs. It’s exaggerated—one of her favorite moves as of late. “It’s okay.”

Spencer glances at you like he always does when he sees glimpses of you in your child, eyes sparkling as if her opinionated and bluntly honest nature is in any way reminiscent of you. 

“Yeah, I agree. Yellow is just okay.”

She leans against him and he’s quick to accommodate her, affectionately brushing his knuckles over your bare shoulder as he slings his arm across the back of the swing. 

“Daddy?”

“What, lovebug?”

You smile, letting your head fall back and your eyes close. The sun is warm on your face. 

“Mommy’s drink is red.”

Nothing gets past her. Rossi had pushed the drink into your hand almost the second you stepped through the door, insisting it would go well with lunch. It sits otherwise untouched on the glass table. 

Spencer hums. The swing rocks gently. 

“That’s because she’s not having lemonade like us. She’s having a grownup drink.”

“Oh.”

You think that’s the end of it, that she’s satisfied with the answer, until another moment passes, and her voice, sweet as the tinkle of little fairy bells, is posing a very loaded question. 

“Why don’t you ever have grownup drinks? Me and you always have the same.”

Spencer’s already looking at you, brows drawn as you sit up. Your eyes, open now, go wide, and you shake your head slightly to signal you have no idea how he’s supposed to respond either. 

His hand goes to Ada’s hair, gently scratching her scalp as his eyes dart over your face. You can see the gears turning in his head. This is one of very few things he clearly didn’t read about in any of the literature on raising kids when you were pregnant. 

“I… some people don’t like grownup drinks.”

It’s an inadequate answer, especially coming from Spencer—just this morning he explained to Ada why the sky is blue. Rayleigh scattering. Blue light scatters more than any other kind of light. Which then led to an impromptu lesson on oxygen molecules and other basic chemistry in the car on the way here. 

So there are standards. 

“Why not?”

You interrupt, unable to watch Spencer flounder any longer. “Ada, why don’t you go see what Henry and JJ and Uncle Dave are doing? That looks fun, right?”

You gesture down the yard to where JJ and Rossi are teaching Henry to play cornhole. 

She looks at you with big brown eyes—the set of them, the color—those are all Spencer.

“Can you and daddy come?”

You straighten out her dress and take the half-full glass from her little hands, setting it next to your own on the table. 

“In a minute. Go ahead.”

Spencer’s hand slips from her hair as she pushes off the swing and bounds down the yard. You make sure she arrives to her destination without incident, before scooting closer to your husband and taking his vacant hand. 

“Spence?” You ask quietly, leaning in to try and insert yourself into his eye line. He doesn’t look away from Ada. 

“That was bad.”

“It wasn’t. She doesn’t understand. It’s fine.”

“I didn’t—”

He looks down, lips pressed together, and your heart twists and drops like overripe fruit from the vine as you realize his eyes have glossed over. 

“Baby,” you whisper, relinquishing his hand only so you can rub his back. Your other finds his knee, drawing as close as you possibly can. “It’s okay.”

“How am I supposed to explain it to her?”

A tear falls, making a dark splotch on the fabric of his pants. 

“You don’t have to. She’s only five. I guarantee she’s already forgotten all about it.”

“I will. I’ll have to tell her one day. She thinks I’m perfect, how am I supposed to—”

He stops himself, voice tightening to a halt. You watch him hold back a cry like you haven’t seen in years. It’s an old, familiar ache for you. You can’t imagine how it feels for him. 

“Spencer,” you coo. “She adores you. She loves you so much. That’s never going to change.”

His nose twitches. 

“I’m going to disappoint her.”

“How? How are you going to disappoint her?”

“I think it’s pretty disappointing to find out your dad is a junkie.”

His tone isn’t particularly harsh but the words are like a slap anyway. 

“Spencer…” For a moment you don’t know what else to say. It’s not a secret that he’s ashamed of that chapter in his life, but you had no idea he was contending with this much self-loathing over it, even after all this time. It seems like such a distant point in the rearview mirror that the two of you almost never need to talk about it anymore. “You are not a junkie. It’s been, what—a decade?”

“I don’t want to have to tell her what drugs are, let alone that I... she thinks I’m the smartest guy in the world, and one day I’ll have to tell her that drugs are extremely dangerous, and I was shooting up for four months anyway. No matter how I try to explain it to her the ultimate takeaway is going to be that I’m weak and I wasn’t smart enough and she’s never, ever going to forget that. How am I supposed to—I can’t be a role model for her. I fucked up so badly.”

Your chest aches, somewhere deep and hollow, as he leans forward, pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes, only for a moment—before Ada shrieks and his head snaps back up. Henry is chasing her with a worm. Spencer watches on, tears still leaking from his eyes and expression otherwise neutral. It’s bittersweet to hear him express such deep insecurity about the thing he’s best at in the world, even as those parental instincts kick in and he’s setting aside his own feelings to keep an eye on her. He’s never trusted himself. He’s never seen himself the way you do. 

“Baby, you are her dad and she loves you. Her love for you is not contingent on your past. You are so, so good to her. That’s all she knows, okay? She doesn’t care what you were doing when you were 25. She cares about whether you’ll be home for dinner, and if you’ll play dolls with her, and if you’ll tuck her in. That’s all she needs to love you.”

JJ wrangles the kids and after a moment Spencer looks down again, brow furrowed deeply as drops like rain dot his lap, but he hardly makes a sound. You lay your cheek on his shoulder. “And until she’s old enough for the whole story, which involves a lot more violence than I am comfortable with her being subjected to right now, you don’t need to explain it to her. You have time.”

“She wants to know now.”

“She also wants icecream for every meal. But I can’t make her understand why that’s a bad idea. What she wants and what she needs and what she is capable of understanding are all different categories. I know you love answering all her questions, and you’re a really good teacher, but you can’t make her understand something as complex as addiction.”

Spencer sniffs. 

“Developmentally she’s only really capable of understanding the world as it exists in relation to herself.”

“Exactly. So give her some time, and give yourself some time.”

“What if she asks again?”

“Then… you say you don’t like how it makes you feel. And tell her to clean up her toys. Condition her to stop asking.”

Spencer stumbles over a teary laugh he hadn’t been expecting. You sit up straight, holding his face between your hands and encouraging him to look at you. His cheeks shine with tears, but you wipe them away tenderly. 

“You’re perfect to her,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to one cheek, “and you’re perfect to me.” He cups your elbow as you kiss the other and looks at you with so much sheer adoration you could get all choked up, too.

“Wow,” he sniffles, and takes a deep breath, pulling you into him, “I don’t deserve you.”

“Of course you do,” you mumble into his shirt, eyes fluttering shut as he presses three kisses to the curve of your neck where he’s buried his face. 

“I could be canonized as a saint and not deserve you.”

Sainthood. You ponder that. 

Saints have to live virtuously. They also have to be dead. 

You hold him a little tighter. You like him exactly how he is: technically imperfect. Probably not getting into heaven. Still venerable. Very much heroic. Alive, and with you.

“I’m really glad you’re not a saint.”

He chuckles. His hand slides up your back, and then side to side—a path it’s made time and time again which has only ever led you to wonderful, perfect places.

“Me too.”

[pedgito]

𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐁𝐎𝐘 | Emperor Geta x reader

↝ masterlist | requests? | ao3 | update blog | fic rec | ko-fi

summary | Emperor Geta takes a liking to you but ends up with far more than he bargained for.

author's note | full blame on @hauntedhowlett. also don't look at me and tell me that man doesn't have a mommy kink, he does.

content warning | 18+ MDNI, sub!geta, dom!reader, mentions of spousal/child loss, brief mentions of pregnancy, subtle mommy kink, lactation kink (titty suckin' hell yeah), oral (f receiving), use of sweet boy/good boy, unprotected piv

word count — 4.2k

A widow, a mourning would-be mother—naive amongst your youthful glaze, the softness in your features as you stare down the two brothers from across the long, crowded table. It has only been a fortnight now, but your face proves entirely unsuspecting.

This meeting was about you—not of your late husband, not of legality or current issues to address, but your qualification to have a spot amongst men. Most were unaware of your puppetry with your late husband and his place in the senate—an older man triple your age that had brought you for a price.

Easily to manipulate, easy to convince.

“There is no place here for a mockery like this,” An older gentleman with stringy, greying hair chirped up from his seat, fist tucked under his wrinkled chin, eyes carefully examining your figure, licking his split, dry lips, “she is young—negotiate a price with her father and—”

“He is dead,” You state flatly, a piercing glare shot down the line toward the spoken male, seemingly ticked by the sound of your voice, expecting submissiveness, “And I will assure the price is one you will never afford.”

Caracalla, as aloof as he was, seemed to snicker at that. A high-pitched cackle that slips from his lips as Geta raises a brow, his mouth hidden behind his curled fingers, opposite hand spread out wide on the arm of his throne.

“I am well versed,” You address both of the emperors directly, “Educated—my husband would be displeased to hear me say this, but he was not the smartest man. I have lost more than just him, but I am not here to beg.”

There was no love lost, fortunately. He wasn’t a good or bad man, only a man. He frequented brothels often, voiced his displeasure when you weren’t serving him correctly, and only forced a child upon you because of societal standards. It was distressing, still deep in your own grief as you avoided the deadlocked stares from the surrounding men, praying that one of the two young emperors would have a soft spot, or even a weakness. 

You would find it, if needed. But, Geta’s amusement was a comforting sign. 

The same man, displeased with your presence, grips hard enough at his wooden cane that it starts to crack, “Better yet, force her to work in the brothel. Plenty of use for you there,” His gaze switches from the head of the table to you, nodding his head with a triumphant smirk.

“As I am sure your wife would love to hear about your visits,” There’s a collective tenseness, both of hands gripping the table and men shifting in their seats, eyes flickering back and forth between the volleying conversation, the dueling man’s face going slack, “do not act surprised, you keep company of men with loose lips, be thankful one of them has died with the rest of your pitiful secrets.” 

Geta clears his throat then, sharing a brief moment with his brother as they nod in unison.

“I will consider this,” He begins, tongue swiping along the inside of his bottom lip, “given the suddenness of—”

“Your highness, do not fall victim to her deception, she is—”

“If you value that head of yours,” Geta’s words are biting, quick, “you will not interrupt me when I am speaking.”

He’s highly temperamental, the dagger he’s spent twirling in his hand for the past several minutes tossing lazily against the wood as he flicks a hand up dismissively, “Get out of my sight,” He excuses them all, aside from his finger pulling like it was held on a string to aim in your direction, “you—stay.”

You’ve just resigned yourself to death, surely.

–

The wine is dark, staining his upper lip as he drinks, clunky rings tapping against the glass of his cup as he passes you off a cup of your own. He had his own private quarters, opposite of his brother and hidden down a long, trailing hallway, an office-like room attached to his quarters.

You weren’t going to defy his command as unsettling as it felt, his glittering and colorful robe dragging against the tile floor as you stood silent, a comfortable distance away. 

Your dress was unbearably tight, back straight as an arrow while your shoulders ached, but you didn’t waver, didn’t slouch. Your breasts spilled over the fabric, barely covered by the shawl draped over your shoulders, signs of motherhood that had yet to dissipate. You cleared your throat, shuffling quietly on your feet. 

“I do not like nervousness,” Geta announces, turning his head over his shoulder as he swivels his body to lean against the edge of the desk—the room was clearly unused, aside from now. 

“I am not nervous,” It wasn’t that at all, rather an uncertainty. 

“Drink,” He suggested, nodding his head toward your full glass, “it will help.”

He doesn’t seem to believe you and you defy his order further, traveling toward him to rest the glass against the desk, hands settled at your stomach as you look at him, his eyes carefully tracking your movement as he sloshes the wine around in his mouth, a fingertip trailing the rim before he mirrors your actions.

“G—your highness,” You begin indecisively, “forgive me for sounding…selfish, but is there something you require? Do I serve a purpose being here?”

“What are your current living arrangements?” He asks suddenly, fingers curled around the edge of the desk, tilting his head in question. 

“I am living under the selflessness of a senator’s wife—though, if he knew, it would not be welcomed with open arms,” Geta is aware of your steadfast gaze, rare that you ever looked anywhere but his face, not the usual roaming nervousness he had become acquainted with.

“Ah,” He chuckles, “If I may pry—well, I am…is it—”

The man who had challenged you earlier with a wife too gracious for her own good.

“Yes, unfortunately.” 

Geta contemplates—he wasn’t against you having a voice within his council, aware that it wouldn’t be well-met, but there was a way to ensure safety and submission; he's learned to mold and shape to achieve what he wants at the lift of a finger. It was a mix of power and practiced manipulation. 

“You will relocate here, to the palace,” He informs, “as an extra measure and because I am fond of your…bite,” His mouth upturns in a lazy smirk, “you will be well cared for here, I assure you.”

A man who was far too fond of his toys, you notice the glint in his eyes as soon as his expression morphs. Greed; he could have everything and even that wouldn’t be enough. 

It was only minimally amusing, his confidence. 

And within a few hours and a few snaps of his fingers, you were set up comfortably in your own room, a pleasant conversation with his less than stable brother and the obedient monkey perched on his shoulder—he was endearing, but visibly paranoid. 

You refuse the help of the servants as you attempt to retire for the night, brow furrowed in frustration as you reach unsuccessfully for the tied string of your dress, resilient and stubborn in your unwillingness for help as you curse to yourself, half a second from ripping the fabric in half before the door to your room is opening quietly, creaking on it’s hinges. 

“I assure you, they are here for a reason,” Geta remarks fondly, the faint fire of the candles lit around your room painting him in a warm glow, softening an unusually rigid man, he approaches without a word as you relent, hands curling around the edge of a nearby chair, his hand working methodically along the knotted fabric at your back, a few minutes passing before he’s tugging it loose, a breath of relief slipping beyond your lips.

Geta takes a few steps back, ringed fingers interlocked behind his back as he watches you expectantly, watching quietly as you turn with your arm clutching the fabric to your chest, hair loosened, your face relaxing into a natural scowl.

“Do you require anything of me?” You ask, curious of his lingering presence but not feeling threatened or undermined—shockingly, he seemed unsteady. Unsure. His confidence failed him for the first time in his young life, “If there is…something you would like to address, I will listen.”

“When did you marry?” An odd start, but you answer with ease.

“Fifteen—he promised my family wealth, it was a simple trade. They died not long after. Tuberculosis, or so I was told,” You shift from one bare foot to another as Geta’s lips pull together in a narrow line, “You know, we are not much different.”

That grabs his attention, his eyebrow raising in a silent question as you approach slowly, arms crossed over your chest now, holding the fabric in place, “Coyness is unbecoming, Emperor.”

“Enlighten me,” Geta replies, his restless hands finding their way over the collars of his robe as he tightens it around himself, joining him near the end of your bed—a strange thing to claim; this entire room, yours. 

“If my math proves me right, we are of the same birth year,” You begin, “—those men, your advisors, they severely underestimate you and Caracalla. They are scared of you, yes. But, if given the chance, they would strike you down without a thought,” He turns his head, blinking away a sour expression, feeling particularly bare despite his state of dress.

Your gaze was powerful, intense, even Geta could not handle it.

“I am trying to say that I understand,” You clarify, tilting your head to catch his eyeline, reaching out slowly to provide a comforting touch, hands curling around his wrist, “not that I understand your role and the burden it carries, but being young and overlooked. I have felt that, I still feel it.”

He’s never been approached so openly—though he prefers the proclivity of men who bow down without question, his psyching was always searching for something more. A poor boy without love, or meaningful relations. You offer a soft smile as he turns his head to you.

“You came here for a reason,” You remind him, “—make it clear.”

His eyes follow the steady rise and fall of your chest, your fingers curling over the rough, coarse lining of the dress as it pushes your breasts up, his tongue trailing along his bottom lip in a wordless hunger.

“Did you plan to force yourself upon me?” You ask curiously, his face flushing with embarrassment, “Or, perhaps, hope that I would be charmed by you?”

“It is rare that I am denied,” He explains, like a petulant kid preparing to be denied their favorite toy, “—but, you are not mine.”

“I belong to no one,” You clarify, “I am not a whore, or a servant. We are…equals, yes?”

“Not entirely,” Geta counters, still donning the crown on his head—more subtle than the formal one he wears around, a delicate band of gold leaves adorned with gems, “but, it seems—”

You smirk slightly to yourself as you reach forward with one hand, plucking the band gently from his hair and tossing it aside to the bed, fingertips trailing down to his chin as you tug his face to look at you.

“You need not put on a performance for me,” You comfort him, his features softening as his eyes flicker toward the crown, “it is as simple as just asking, Geta.”

At level ground, it feels more appropriate. If he wanted your head, he would have it.

Eagerness invades his mind, clawing forward as his palms form to your neck, jaw, lips pressing against yours with impatience, a hum of hunger laying in wait in his throat. For a second, you allow it. Indulge in the simplicity of desire that has been long forgotten, sighing fervently against his mouth before you’re taking grip of his robe and forcing him back, his eyes blackened with lust and his mouth open, blinking with confusion.

“Ask me,” You demand him, “I have allowed so many in my life to take, not this. Not you.”

Geta clears his throat hastily, closing his mouth, gathering the immense willpower it took to listen, comply, “May I—may I kiss you?”

You nod, a grin spreading across your face as he lunges forward eagerly once more, held back by your surprisingly powerful grip, unaware of how your dress had shifted down, held up solely by the body contact against Geta, chest to chest.

It was teasing, taunting him with the ability and control you had over him, lips grazing against his testingly as he laughs too, a quiet and joyous noise as you finally let him have it, arms wrapping over his shoulders as his own hands roam down your sides, around your back and down your side, squeezing a hand at your thigh and bringing it up, high enough that it can rest at his hips, his fingers kneading into the exposed skin near the slit of your gown, toying with the delicate skin that he could reach.

You revel in the neediness, an intense feeling of want washing over you, his nose following the lines of your face as they nudge at your chin, forcing your head up as his kisses trail down, spit slicked lips pressing into your skin, bodies separating as you dress falls, as bare as he under his own robe, plump breasts pulling his eyes down, a slow blink and an instant flick up towards your face.

“Seems the effects of motherhood are taking their time to dissipate,” You admit, his fingers twitching at the sight of them, “If that is an issue we can end this he—”

“No,” He growls, “it—sorry, it is not.”

You reach for his hands quietly, his gaze following your direction as you cup them over your breasts, the heavy weight of them in his hands, the gentle squeeze that would otherwise make you wince but instead has your thighs clenching together. Geta was practically salivating at the sight, mesmerized by the fullness and warmth, his thumbs rubbing carefully over your hardened nipples, a small opaque drop of liquid painting his finger.

You grab his thumb suddenly, shoving his hand away at the sight.

“Despite a loss my body continues to provide,” You explain, “ It is not a lot, but it lingers.I have tried…everything to will it away.”

“Why?” Geta asks, looking up at you with newfound curiosity.

“It is not ideal, you see—”

“Who has told you this?” Geta pesters, watching the liquid drip down his finger before he brings it to his mouth, “I see no issue.”

Your nose twitches in uncertainty, his fingers trailing an abstract pattern into the underside of your breasts, around the side, admiring, “I have always been curious,” Geta admits, his voice trailing as you slowly guide yourself to sit on the bed, the emperor following in suit as he kneels against the edge of the mattress between your open thigh, “did he appreciate your body for everything that it was?”

“He was barren,” You admit, “He liked my mouth on his cock and that was all. He did not care for much else or my pleasure at that, he was much too inadequate anyways.”

He doesn’t address the glaringly obvious admittance—a much longer story for another time that neither of you cared for at the moment, “May I?” He asks politely, his hot breath ghosting over your chest as you nod, his mouth latching onto your skin in an instant.

It starts at the center of your chest, face buried between your breasts as he pulls his robe open, aided down by the push of your hands, his alabaster skin contrasting the plum sheets, his knee rising briefly to push into the sheets as you catch a glimpse of his cock, hanging heavily and intimidating in its size, anticipating of the stretch if you allowed him so far. 

His tongue follows a planned path, along the underside of your breasts and around your nipple, grazing over the pebbled skin with the subtle taste of sweetness seeping into his taste buds as his lips wrap around and such, the faintest push of teeth in your skin as his eyes peer up at you, your brow furrowing in delight at the sudden shock to your cunt, nothing like you’ve felt before.

You did not know pleasure like this, a fair trade. It was a shock to the system. 

He’s looking for acknowledgement, trading off to share the same care to the other breasts, his free hand trailing to the side of your face and under your neck, cradling you with a gentle touch as the hand on your breasts curls around and squeezes, sucking gently at your breasts as his head tilts into your comforting touch, your opposite hand turning as you run your knuckles alongside his jaw.

“Sweet boy,” You praise, “is that what you wanted?”

As if he hadn’t been eyeing you the entire meeting, breasts squeezed together as you leaned daringly over the table to argue with your aggressor, quenching the hunger all day with a steady diet of wine and the assorted fruit placed around the palace, always within reach, watching you quietly. 

He nods slightly, distantly, as he’s focused on his current task.

“Geta,” Formalities forgotten by now, his eyes widened as you stare at him, rising on your elbows with a waiting expression, “have you lost your tongue?”

“It would—it would seem I have not,” He chuckles with a knowing smirk, swiping his tongue around your nipple in a circular motion, “I am pleased, yes.”

He shifts his arms around you, curled fists landing in the sheets beside your head, his cock sliding against the inside of your thigh as he settles to his knees, a fresh flush to his chest as he admires your state of nakedness, trailing two wondering fingers from your chest to your pelvic bone, a slow dance in the low light of the room.

You nudge his hand away, “You are eager,” You note with a fond tone, watching as began to lean into you, eager to capture your lips once more, but your fingers are pressing over his lips before they reach their destination, shaking your head in disapproval, “I have ideas for better use of that mouth, Emperor.”

He pulls back with grin, his teeth dragging over his bottom lip as you filter your fingers through his ginger hair, curling your hand over the back of his head as he bows, settling on his belly with his cock trapped between the sheets, slowly his nose buries into the coarse curls, his tongue dragging down the seam of your pussy.

Geta can only liken it to a taste of the divine, or the closest he would ever reach, settled between your open legs with a mission to please, to satisfy. And for the first time in his life—serve someone other than himself. Normally he would bark at the informality of things, only allow his given title, a strict instruction of a bowed head and obedience, but he finds himself bending to your rule and dropping to his knees, if you demand.

“You have your wits and sharp tongue,” He hums against your cunt, a delightful noise slipping out as you tug at his hair, “I suggest you put them to good use.”

As he does, you find yourself drifting.

He is precise, thorough—which is not at all expected from a man of his status, or any man, really. They were never concerned with the pleasure of anyone but themselves, but Geta has proven you wrong in many ways as undesirable as his ruling may be. 

You only cared for your life anymore, witnessing how delicate it could be when it came to everyone around you.

He likes to watch, too. It isn’t at all surprising, eager for praise he brings you to a quick and intense, but fleeting orgasm. It swells in your stomach, the heat pooling before it explodes, hearing the satisfied groan as he licks you clean, murmuring a shaky, “Good–good b-boy,” as you force yourself to catch your breath, allowing him to climb his way back up your body with the head of his cock nudging at your entrance, both of you sighing into the shared space as your foreheads meet and Geta was completely at your control, awaiting your next command.

“Are things often like this?” You ask curiously, “Is this what you seek?”

Domination; someone to submit to.

In a daze, he shakes his head, lips parted slightly.

“Do you enjoy that I make you feel this way?”

He smiles, sated, nodding in response.

“I want to feel you,” It was a whispered request, his eyes searching your face—again, even just the nudge of his cock between your folds was enough to make you tense and you find your own fingers drifting between your legs, dipping inside of you as he looks down, mesmerized as you guide his hand to his cock, wrapping your fingers around his as you work together in tandem.

When his brow draws together, you guide him inside of you, staving off his impending orgasm.

“Slow,” You instruct, hands traveling to grip his face, nodding his head between your hold, “You are…quite large, I am not used to that,” Geta seems to find a surge of confidence at that, leaning forward greedily to capture your lips, his teeth dragging along the fleshy skin as he angles his and pulls back slowly, entering you at the same pace despite the impatient shake to his body, eager for more, “slow—slow, look at me,”

“You’re obedient,” You praise, “far more than I expected.” 

“My brother likens you to a goddess,” Geta notes, the odd timing sending you into a gentle snort of laughter, “I must say I agree, you are mesmerizing.”

“I prefer Caracalla not be a topic as your cock is buried inside of me,” You retort with a kind smile, his own morphing into a frown of concentration as your knees hike around his hips, encourage him to lean his weight against you as he rocks his hips, a gentle rhythm that is drowned out by the sounds of the city at night.

His itching impatience grows tiresome, gripping desperately at whatever skin he could reach, pitiful moans of pleasure inked into your skin with the silent plea of more—please, more?

“Make me come once more,” You urge him, “and take what you need.”

It was all he needed to hear, taking the opportunity to slip out of you as he guiding you toward your stomach, guiding one knee up toward your chest as he hovered over you, turning your head to face him as he pushed his cock back inside of you, your walls fluttering around him in satisfaction of being filled again. 

There was a perfect view of the sky this way, a small alcove open to the night breeze, stars twinkling against the contrasting colors of midnight, “It is beautiful,” He begins, not admiring the same sight as you, a shakiness to his voice as he pumped his hips at a nearly unbearable pace, eyes fluttering shut as the pleasure overtook you.

He’s panting into your skin, a feeling you’ve experienced in plenty of other circumstances, with a well-versed ability to separate yourself from your body as men chase their pleasure, but with the emperor, it was a different experience.

A cacophony of small whimpers followed by an utterances of words you’re not sure he or his brother have spoke often, “Please—-please, may I—“

The gravity of the situation flips as you realize your mistake, giving a man with far too much reach and power any type of influence over you, your brain searching for a way to counter his plea as you turn your body, arm wrapping around the back of his neck as he shakes with his impending orgasm.

Words are lost, unable to speak before he’s pulling out of you, the drip of his warm seed coating your skin, the tight grip at your chest loosening in an instant.

Thank the gods, you pray silently. 

“I apologize,” He breathes heavily, bottom lip swollen and red from the mutilation of his teeth, chest flushed bright and burning, “if—if I scared you.”

He uses his discarded robe to clean you up, unthinking of the consequences as he leaned back to stand, fully nude as he extends his hand in wait, beckoning you closer.

“Scared me?” You challenge, curling your hand into his own as he pulls you up, legs bracketing his thighs as your hands come to rest against his abdomen, staring up at the emperor. 

“Your bark is quite frightful,” He admits, “I can only imagine how you would rip me apart had I gone too far,” His words trail, a softening to his voice as he curls his hand around the side of your face, a gentle gesture.

“Would you like that, Geta?” You ask with a creeping suspicion, a smirk spreading across your face, “For me to rip you apart?”

A man of such power, unrestrained and chaotic—shrinks.

Almost too shy to admit it.

“Careful, my lady,” He warns, “I am still a ruler of Rome, such disrespect is—”

“Punishable by death,” You confirm, “but, you promised me safety, yes?”

Geta nods silently, watching the slow crawl of your fingers up his chest before they grab his chin, your thumb smoothing over the dimpled skin, his lips pulling apart in a shaky exhale.

“And I am sure a good boy like you will keep that promise?”

[rinawantstosleep]

𖹭༉‧°𓂃 𓈒𓏸‪‪

bf satoru x fem single mom reader

wc: 1.1k

— a pair of troublemakers residing in your house; both of whom are (unintentionally!) dead-set on making themselves the death of you.

"I don't like your stupid, white hair." 

"And I don't like your boring, brown hair, buddy."

"W-well... well, I don't like your ugly, doo-doo face!"

"Your mama does." 

The two could go bickering like this for hours on end if you let them. What may seem to be a mutually digressive arrangement is actually an oddly adorable bonding in disguise. Satoru and your son put on a front of being annoyed at the other's presence, but you've never seen them apart for longer than a few minutes at a time. They've grown on each other; much like how moss grows on a statue that's been lingering out in the open. An indispensable cycle of life that's truly inevitable. 

"No, she doesn't! She doesn't! She likes... sof- sofis... sofistogated guys."

"You mean sophisticated?"

"Shut up!" 

You'd been terrified that your little one wouldn't have a father-figure to rely on anymore after you divorced your husband. However, it was something you had to do for his sake. The child deserved to live in an environment that wasn't always reeking of alcohol, where he wasn't subjected to the constant, drunk yelling of a pathetic excuse of a father who couldn't get his shit together and lazed around at home all day while you did all the work. If that meant that you'd have to raise him on his own, then so be it. At least he'd be raised properly. Signing those papers was, by far, the easiest decision you'd ever made. 

"I'm not shutting up because a kid in clothes too big for him is telling me to."

"You... you're the one always wearing tight clothes around the house to impress my mama."

"No, that's because I'm ripped. Gotta show off what I've got. And your mama loves that." 

"Oh, yeah? That means you show off your... your - um... ugly, doo-doo face!"

Would you regard it a miracle that Satoru just so happened to stumble into your life around that very time? Well, relatively. Meeting him wasn't something you'd planned, nor anticipated. The kind stranger who offered to pay for your order at a café a year ago has somehow, thanks to quite a romantic sequence of events, turned into your boyfriend; a rock to lean on for when you need the support. And, also, someone that your little one can look up to (with the fun, bonus benefit of the pair getting into silly, childish quarrels nine times out of ten). What is Satoru if not a three-hundred-and-thirty-six-month-old toddler, too? Puts your five-year-old to utter shame with the way he acts. 

"Enough. Baby, we've been over this before. Behave."

"But, mama, he's being a meanie!" "But, babe, he's acting all pretentious." 

The responses come simultaneously: one is high pitched and whiny, and the other is your son. Sometimes, you have to pause and ask yourself how you haven't gone insane yet. It's the love that keeps you from falling apart. How could you ever harbor any other feeling for these two, except for wanting to cherish them? You just... need to work on a pet name that doesn't apply to the both of them at once.  

"I don't want to hear it. Sweetie, finish your lunch. And, Satoru?" 

"Yes, honey-who-loves-me-and-my-'ugly, doo-doo'-face?" He's smirking, snickering, while saying this, the sly bastard. When will the pair ever relent on trying to one-up the other? 

"Why have you got one of my hair ties on your wris- never mind. Don't forget to change the sheets in our room. I'd do it myself if not for the meeting I need to get to in an hour." 

"Yes, ma'am." 

Cue a tiny gasp. 

"But, mama..." The voice of your little one breaks the peaceful silence at the dining table once again. His legs start kicking back and forth - a sign that he's growing restless - from the chair they're dangling off of. He's got a protest already forming up in that head of his. "Toru said he'd take me to the skate park today. And he promised to get ice cream after."

Toru, huh? That's new. You can't help the smile that paints itself on your lips. The two have been getting along pretty well, it seems, contrary to all the bickering they do. That's always nice to know. It's amusing to see the dynamic they've built. One second, they're riling each other up to no end, the next, they've already formed a secret alliance to go out and have fun together. How cute. "Is that so?"

"Mhm! So that means we need to leave riiight after I finish my lunch. Don't get mad, okay?" 

It's the small things like these that warm your heart. Some sacrifices can be made if it's in regards to this adorable (step, even though you haven't married Satoru yet)father-son moment. The sheets are insignificant right now. "Awwh. Of course I won't get mad, baby. It's good for you to want to spend more time with Satoru. Isn't he a fun guy?"

"... maybe." 

. . . 

"Just make sure he's safe out there. Helmet and gear on at all times, no big ramps. And don't let him eat too much sugar. He'll get hyper. Once the rush dies down, he'll get cranky -"

Satoru's arm wraps around your waist before you can finish your sentence, pulling you overwhelmingly close to his frame. Instinctively, your arms move to wrap around his neck, just the way Satoru likes it. Oh, how he wants to just throw everything else out the window and drag you to the nearest room with a lock in place.

"You -" A quick peck to your lips, followed by a nibble on your bottom lip. "- worry -" Another peck. "- too -" Another. "- much." Then, an unexpected bite on the shell of your right ear. "I'd never allow myself to let that little demon get hurt; or hyper."

Large hands wander across the curve of your back, resting firm on your butt. Satoru doesn't want to expose your son to the way he's squeezing your plush flesh with his long digits, so he shifts to have your back pressed against the wall. A perfect opportunity to kiss you - which the man can't help but seize. What else is a smitten boyfriend to do while waiting for your son to get ready and come down from his room upstairs? Lips against lips until one of you pulls away for air. "He's safe with me, okay?" 

"Okay." 

"Atta girl. Now, you go to that meeting of yours. And, tonight, after we both get back- oww."

"Groooss! Don't kiss my mama, or you'll make her ugly! Like youuu!"

"Baby, no. Don't kick Satoru's ankles-"

"I'm saving you, mama."

with 𖹭, rina !!

[aajjks]

F O R E V E R (m)

synopsis. Sometimes one has to take extreme measures to make sure that their beloved stays, and he also did, make sure that you stay with him forever.

male!oc x fem!reader

warnings. yändêrê bêhãvïöür, hïnts ät mälê mästrübåtïön, bäby träppïng, pïlls rẽplåcẽměnt, dïvörcë, s-x, ëxplïcït cöntěnt, cöärcätïön, mänïpülätïön.

note. HEYYY MEET YOUR EX HUSBAND- I get you’re going to love him- talk to him, remember to send asks to your beloved, him. he’s so excited to talk to you. 🥺💓

yandere!ex husband who didn’t want a divorce, yandere ex husband who still loves you very much, too bad that you’re already over him

yandere!ex husband who’s always seeking to be with his child so that he can spend more time with you.

yandere!ex husband who made sure that you both got joint custody of your daughter, ayra. Yandere ex husband who adores his daughter who looks exactly like you, maybe her nose and lips are like her daddy.

Yandere!ex husband who will and does make sure to sabotage your dating life- it’s not like you have much of a dating life because your daughter takes most of your time & attention.

Yandere!ex husband who doesn’t have much of a dating or sex life because he’s still stuck on you, he’s got to get you back.

Yandere!ex husband who calls you every night, you have almost considered blocking him because he’s always sending you the most lewd and explicit voice messages.

Of course he’s jerking off to the thought of you and the way you felt so good whenever he fucked you. He is a breathy moaning mess, stuttering out your name like a chant.

“Y-Yn… ‘m please pick up.. ‘m so close to cumming baby” or “ahhh misssing you s’much yn… wish it was you rather than my hand.”

And His timings are pretty weird because it could be 4 AM in the morning and he could send you these messages or it could be 9 AM in the morning and you would receive these messages.

He’s definitely not shy.

Yandere!Ex-husband who is shameless, he doesn’t care that you’re divorced, and that what he’s doing is highly inappropriate.

Yandere!Ex-husband who is a seduction master. Yeah he’s always present at any events that your five-year-old has at her school, along with you and you’re always surprised to see him.

He knows you well and somehow you both end up fucking in the school bathroom or an empty classroom, he’s way too charming and cunning.

Yandere!ex husband who’s impossible to resist but he’s just way too toxic, you can really tell what’s going on in his brain, ease always got the stupidest smirk whenever he’s with you.

Yandere!ex-husband who fucks you like his life depends on it, you just make him miss you so much, he’s barely lasting as soon as he’s inside you.

Yandere!ex husband who’s so close to having you back because now you let him stay over to your house with ayra and sometimes when she’s asleep- you let him in your bedroom.

He loves you so much and he’s always making sure to sabotage your potential love interests so you have no choice but to let him in, oh he can’t help it,

Maybe that’s why you let him fuck you, you’re needy, he gets it- no one can ever get you like him. He Will do anything for you

Yandere!ex husband who has baby trapped you once, and now he’s going to do it again.

Yandere!ex husband who makes sure to replace your birth control pills with something useless so the next time he’s inside you? He’s leaving something.

You let him cum inside you, he convinces you every time + you’re on your pills right? He would remind you so sweetly, looking at you with his icy eyes.

He’s gorgeous, Xavier loves you so much, and when a few months later, when you call him in a panic, telling him to come over, so he can show him something.. he’s so eager to know.

Yandere ex husband, who acts surprised when you show him a blue stick with a + on its small display, written on it is pregnant and he’s gasping.

“Y-Yn… I thought you were on pills? H-How is that possible?” He’s feign his surprise, looking at with you, his icy boys eyes filled with surprise, inside? He’s screaming. He’s ruining his fingers through his raven hair, his freshly shaved jaw wide, almost popping his dimples.

“Y-Yn don’t worry sweetheart I’m gonna be there for you and our children… y-you don’t need to worry just focus on your health and… please… marry me.”

[rbfclassy]

more ex husband toji plsssss

BABY DADDY TOJI! — TOJI FUSHIGURO

SYNOPSIS...nsfw and sfw headcanons of baby daddy!toji

INFO...baby daddy!toji x fem!reader, toji is also your ex husband, little bit of angst, some fluff, toxic!toji, reader and toji have a daughter, toji is a good dad, possessiveness, arguing, oral (f!receiving), p in v, mentions of marriage, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

baby daddy!toji who is quite literally annoying, always bothering you when he comes over to pick up his daughter. He’ll make jokes about you, constantly poke you. You swear he’s like a big man child

baby daddy!toji who constantly has women wrapped around his arm every few months, and as much as you tell him you don’t want your daughter around that he never listens to you because why would he?

baby daddy!toji who is also your ex husband, little do you know he always keeps his ring in his pocket

baby daddy!toji who still has a soft spot for you. No matter how many arguments or fights your guys get into he is always right behind you in every situation. You called him one night crying because you were stranded at a bar, scared. Toji nearly ran out the house barefoot to come and pick you up

baby daddy!toji who isn’t afraid to say you still look sexy to him. Hand always caressing your cheek before you swat it away and ask him, “don’t you got a girl?” Oh yeah, he does

baby daddy!toji whose relationships never last longer than 2-3 months because they’re simply not you. He knows he’ll never be able to replace you but he still tries (he ends up giving up)

baby daddy!toji who spoils his baby girl, buying her toys, clothes, shoes, whatever she wants. He loves seeing her cute smile and chubby cheeks because she looks just like you

baby daddy!toji who hates how toxic you and him are to each other which ultimately ended up in the downfall of your marriage. But besides that, you two were perfect together and he misses that

baby daddy!toji who loses his shit when he find out through gojo that you’re going on a date with someone. He pulls up to your house banging on the door before you swing it open. He’s barging in, slamming your door shut and y’all instantly get into a heated argument. “Don’t be slamming my doors, Toji! You don’t pay for shit in this house!” You yell, a scowl on your face. “I don’t give a fuck! When were you gonna tell me you were fucking somebody else?!” You weren’t even fucking the guy, you didn’t even get to go out on a date with him yet.

baby daddy!toji who let’s you go out on your date, but he knows he ruined your mood, mentally cursing at himself for being so possessive over you. He can’t help it. That’s why he’s texting you ‘even if we aren’t together you’re still mine’ while you’re on your date. He doesn’t give a shit if the guy sees

baby daddy!toji who shows up to your house unannounced, early in the morning to apologize. “I’m sorry for how I acted, mamas. Let me make it up to you, yeah?” Your knees are pushed to your chest as his tongue is lapping at your clit, long drawn out moans filling the room, your fingers entangled in his hair. “Mmmm, I hate you so much,” You whimper, legs twitching as the pleasurable sensation. “Shhh, just let me make you feel good.”

baby daddy!toji who has your favorite flowers sent to your door as another apology, a note written on the small card asking if you forgive him yet

baby daddy!toji who gets sad whenever your daughter asks why you and him aren’t together anymore, letting a sigh because he knows she’s too young to understand. It’s times like these where he wishes you and him could be happy together. “Let’s just say daddy has been mean to mommy a few times.”

baby daddy!toji who always shows up to the parent events and shows. His baby girl is being featured in a play? He’s there in the audience with you. She’s getting an award for student of the month? He’s right there congratulating her. If he can’t be the best boyfriend, he sure as hell is gonna be the best father

baby daddy!toji who notices the moments when you feel insecure about yourself, noticing the days when you’re quiet and more reserved, noticing how you hide away from him when he picks up your daughter. You’ve been having insecurity issues ever since giving birth to your baby girl and toji hates that you can’t see how good you look all of the time. “That outift looks good on you, might have to give Mia another sibling,” he says with a smile. “Toji!” You gasp, playfully smacking his arm. But he sees that smile on your face and hopes he made your day a little better

baby daddy!toji who got too drunk one night and crashed at your place in the middle of night. He was drunkenly babbling as you were taking care of him. “I miss us. You were my girl. You still are my girl,” he spoke. His words made you freeze as you stopped and stared at him for a moment. “You’re drunk, Toji.” You shook your head. He meant every word he said

baby daddy!toji who pops up when he gets a late night text from you asking him to come over. He’s there in a flash, never able to deny you. You two on each other the minute he walks through the door, sloppily kissing each other while he carries you to the bedroom

baby daddy!toji who can fuck you slow and sensual or fast and rough. His favorite position is missionary so he can look at your pretty face while you cum on his dick for the third time. “Missed me, mamas?” He asks, breathless. You nod with a whimper, eyes searching his, the tip of his dick rubbing against your sweet spot with each thrust of his hips. “Oh fuck, I missed you too.”

baby daddy!toji who swears up and down you’ll be the best he’s ever had, literally wifey material in his eyes. You’re beautiful, amazing personality, a good mother, makes him laugh, and you got good pussy. It’s all worth it when you drive him crazy or make him upset. What more could he ask for? One day he’ll put a ring on it

baby daddy!toji who is big on cuddling. This man is a tank, beefy as hell. Who are you to deny a cuddle from him? He’ll wrap you up in his arms after a bad day or after sex and you just fall asleep instantly

baby daddy!toji who stares down any man that look at you when you ask him to take you to run some errands. If looks could kill, multiple people would be dead. He doesn’t like how they’re practically stripping you with their eyes and having sex with you in their head. Only he can do such a thing—in real life too

baby daddy!toji who gains the courage to talk to you and ask if you’re willing to try again with him and be a family. You’re his forever girl no matter the stupid arguments or situations. He’s scared of what you’ll say but he just needs to know or it’ll always be a dying question in his mind. So, would you?

[5sospenguinqueen]

Pocket Money | Lance Stroll x Reader

Summary: Since the start of the relationship, fans have been convinced you're only with Lance for his money. When he mentions your future in an interview, they accuse you of trying to baby trap him.

Warnings: Swearing. Angst but mostly just for sadness. Hateful fans.

Female reader with various facelaims. Pics found on Pinterest.

A bit different to the other three.

next.

Main Masterlist

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YourUserName just posted

liked by lancestroll, chloestroll and others

YourUserName lovely london was kind enough to be sunny for me this weekend 🇬🇧

2,385 comments

chloestroll i’m still so jealous that you didn’t take me

→ YourUserName yes but if i had, i’d have spent the entire time trying to stop you from running off with a brit. i doubt scotty would appreciate that

→ scottyjames31 do NOT let her run off with a british man

→ YourUserName make sure you behave yourself then

User1 oh, so she’s on yet another holiday funded by her sweet, naive boyfriend who can’t tell he’s with a gold digger

User2 that’s it sweetheart. post pics of your trip that your boyfriend undoubtedly paid for whilst he’s busy racing all weekend without your support

User3 she’s quite possibly the worst wag. give the role to someone who would enjoy being there

→ User4 it’s not a fucking role, sweetheart. being someone’s fiancée is not a role you play, and i think y/n happens to do an amazing “part”

danielricciardo bring me back some crunchies

→ YourUserName no, i got into trouble last time. your trainer told me that you’re not allowed them

→ danielricciardo boo, you whore

User5 so she’s on yet another weekend away in london the same weekend that lance is racing in jeddah? can she make it anymore obvious that she doesn’t support him?

→ User6 her job means she has to travel a lot - just like lance - so unfortunately she cannot follow him around the world

→ User7 you tell ‘em, honey. y/n is a successful businesswoman but everyone seems to forget that? she makes every race when she can but sometimes she can’t get out of work

→ User8 at the end of the day, their relationship is none of our business

astonmartinf1 missing your face in the paddock this weekend

→ YourUserName i miss you too! although i bet nando is enjoying the peace and quiet

→ astonmartinf1 can neither confirm nor deny but he did mention something about yapping

User9 this is so cute. the way his whole face lights up when he’s asked about/talks about her

User10 not lance revealing that y/n would run away and marry him just to call him her husband

→ User11 yes! but he’s so dedicated to giving her the wedding she wanted since she was a child. these two have my whole entire heart 🥰

User12 ugh, where can i get a lance stroll? the way he loves his fiancee 😍 and not him being desperate to have babies with her

User13 so is this confirmation that y/n is pregnant? like, if he wants a baby in a year, then..?

→ User14 wouldn’t surprise me. if they get married, he can still make her sign a prenup and divorce her without a worry, but a baby would tie him to her for life so she can continue to spend his money

→ User15 okay but i’m with you on this. it’s the best way to ensure she can keep him around in some way because let’s be honest, their relationship doesn’t seem the best

→ User9 what the fuck is wrong with you two. where in that entire interview were you getting the impression their relationship is on the rocks? he’s literally planning an entire life with her???

→ User15 yeah and where is she? unbothered in london. she’s only with him for the money and that’s the only reason why they’re engaged.

→ User13 they’re engaged because they love each other! he’s also the one who said he wants her to have his children so he can keep her home????

→ User14 no they’re engaged because for some reason, he’s infatuated with her and she’s only using him, and she’s clearly tricked him into wanting children without realising that’s further entrapment

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YourBrother just posted

liked by danielricciardo, yourbestfriend and others

YourBrother when sprout takes time out of her busy life to visit, Nonna cooks a whole feast (can you tell who the favourite is) tagged: YourUserName

879 comments

YourCousin the only reason we look forward to y/n coming home is because nonna feeds us GOOD

→ YourCousin2 agreed, nothing to do with us missing y/n at all

→ YourUserName this is why i left 😂😭

User1 anyone else find it odd that she’s in a different country again on race weekend? i mean, i know her and lance were still a couple last month but i’m starting to wonder if that’s changed

→ User2 she’s also not been active on socials despite that being part of her job description?

→ User3 can you blame her when everyone constantly hates on her

→ User4 being on media isn’t part of her job, she just liked to share her adventures with us and some of you arseholes ruined that.

User5 oh my gosh, her parents are so cute together. i want to be like that when i’m older

→ User6 and her brother and SIL curled up in the chair together. this family really do produce the cutest couples

→ User7 looks like the only absent spouse is lance :(

→ User8 um because he’s currently in china? he has more important things to be doing??

User9 i love that her brother's first idea to cheer her up is to give her beer

→ User10 well, at least we know she’s not pregnant currently

→ User11 thank god. we know lance is free from her in that aspect

→ User9 seriously? making these comments on twitter wasn't bad enough, you people are actually commenting on her BROTHER’s instagram

(Comments have been disabled for this post)

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astonmartinf1 just posted

liked by estebanocon, YourUserName and others

astonmartinf1 our first race back in shanghai sees a p7 finish for fernando with the fastest lap. lance comes home in p15 after contact earlier in the race

1,443 comments

User12 literally give the seat to anyone other than lance stroll please

User13 can we all stop hating on lance, please? it was an accident, they happen

User14 not him blaming danny ric. sweetie, the car has brakes for a reason

User15 danny ric was fuming but also seemed like he was trying not to be

→ User16 no literally. it was like he was trying not to say something but in one interview slipped up and said that lance has been really distracted due to issues at home

→ User17 i saw that! and the way he ran away after like ‘oo the team is calling me’

→ User18 are we smelling a breakup?

User19 i personally think lance stroll shouldn’t be in f1 but can we take a moment to think that whilst it was really bad driving, he’s not been himself lately? he looks really sad in all the media things

→ User20 literally, like he’s constantly coming under hate for his fiancée, and then she hasn’t been to any races recently and he’s not talked about wedding planning once. this is the man who was telling everyone about his wedding even if they didn’t ask

→ User1 maybe he realised that his girlfriend was a gold digging bitch

→ User2 literally. he talked about having children with her and then realised that meant she’d never leave

→ User3 you people are actually crazy. how do you turn a man talking about wanting children into the woman he loves trying to baby trap him? y/n has never talked about wanting kids

→ User4 this. like i definitely think they’ve broken up but for all we know, it could be that lance was talking about children and y/n realised she wasn’t ready/didn’t want them.

User5 can’t believe people are still running the baby narrative. we know nothing about their relationship because they’re quite a private couple - and after this, we can see why - and yet people have somehow created a whole drama about babies from nothing

User6 i know lance is one of the more private f1 drivers but i really think he needs to comment on this? the amount of hate y/n is getting is insane and shouldn’t be ignored

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YourUserName just posted

liked by estebanocon, danielricciardo and others

YourUserName the view from my office is better than yours. sorry, not sorry

863 comments

BestFriend i’m looking for a woman in finance, trust fund

→ YourUserName you know you’re welcome to my trust fund anytime

→ BestFriend the best sugar mommy i’ve ever had

YourBrother congratulations on your promotion, shithead. one step away from ceo!

User7 wait why did no one tell me she was running a company?

→ User8 babe, we’ve been telling you bitches this from the start! but none of you listened

chloestroll congratulations, business barbie 💕

→ YourUserName thank you, music barbie 🤍

→ User3 so chloe is still here? does that mean we’re still getting a wedding

→ User9 idk. lance isn’t in the likes..?

→ User10 @ chloestroll please tell us what you know. Some of us are rooting for them to end up together

User11 so she goes radio silent for three months just to come back and pretend like she has a job? nothing about the man she supposedly loves?

→ User12 seems shady to me. you got caught out for being a gold digger so now you’re going to act like you actually go to work?

→ User13 i really hate people like you

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Baby Fever Angst Series

Tag list

@lav3nder-haze @minkyungseokie @callsignwidow @luvrrish @fall-bambi @evans-dejong @sadsierra2 @justdreamersdream @spookystitchery @dark-night-sky-99 @elijahslover @gaypoetsblog @luckyladycreator2 @bborra @mrosales16 @reguluscrystals @raizelchrysanderoctavius @tvdtw4ever @alwaysclassyeagle @gigicisneros @spanishcorndogs @dullypully @thecubanator2 @goldenharrysworld @awritingtree @jxnellat @sbrn0905 @leclercsluvs @hc-dutch @mxdi0 @buckybarnessweetheart @ironmaiden1313 @dreamercrowd @yourbane

[aethelwyneleigh27]

Dad!Simon "Ghost" Riley Imagines List

Before you ask, yes I been meaning to use @ave661 renders ever since she posted the Dad!Ghost part 2. Did I use most of them in this post? You know damn well I did.

Did I put in so much work into this one post? Yes. Am I going to be upset if it doesn't do as well as the ones I didn't put much effort in (Ahem the quokka Price imagine)? Also yes.

Tagging people who I think would like this: @puff0o0, @blingblong55. Honestly that was it but if y'all wanna be tagged in the next post then tell me in the replies :)

Parings: Ghost x Wife!Reader

❥ Dad!Simon who values nothing else over spending time with you and your child, even if it's something as simple as him and your little one laying down on your lap while you watch tv together. (Top left pic 🥺)

❥ Dad!Simon who gives the baby a bath for the first time, doing his best not to get soap in their eyes. Him rubbing the baby's head gently with his thumb to wash the suds off the little one's head and hair while they look up at him and coo.

❥ Dad!Simon who had a heart attack the moment he heard the baby cough while they're still in the baby bath net. He just turned away for a second to grab the towel behind him, the one moment he took his eyes off them, the little rascal tried to drink the bath water.

❥ Dad!Simon who's ever so gentle with dressing the baby, they're too little and too fragile in his eyes. Watching the baby try to chew on their own fist while he puts their little socks on. (Matching skeleton mittens for the little baby 🥺)

❥ Dad!Simon who loves hearing his baby let out such loud giggles whenever he kisses them, it's music to his ears to hear his little one let out such a hearty laugh, their little arms and legs flailing because their face is being tickled by his stuble.

❥ Dad!Simon who absolutely adores when his baby attempts kissing him or you (their momma) because it's basically just them having their tiny hands on his or your face while they're open-mouthed and almost headbutting their little lips on either yours or your husband's face.

❥ Dad!Simon who absolutely love nap time, mainly because he takes the naps with them. Nothing more sweet than waking up with the little one's life you two brought to this world.

❥ Dad!Simon who you found awake in the middle of the night to put the baby back down to sleep.

"Come on now pumpkin, you should let your momma rest. She's extremely tired of taking care of both of us.." Simon whispers while he cradles the baby in his arms, trying to lull them back to sleep.

You couldn't help but smile, knowing that what you do doesn't go unappreciated.

"I would never get tired taking care of you two" You said in a hushed tone, making Simon's head snap to the doorway.

To see you, his loving wife look at him as if he was the most important thing in this world reminded him if why he wanted to marry you a few years back.

❥ Dad!Simon who receives a video you sent him while he's deployed of the baby waking up from a nap.

❥ Dad!Simon who doesn't notice you in the room while you were trying to collect laundry, he was working out, you caught him doing push ups and your baby's attempts in copying their dad.

❥ Dad!Simon who bought the baby a little stuffie that they now are emotionally attached to and bring everywhere, yeah the baby constantly signals Simon to kiss the stuffie too.

❥ Dad!Simon who had to train Riley not to lick the baby so much because dog slobber and even though Riley was well behaved, poor thing didn't have much of a self-control the first time you guys brought the baby home.

❥ Dad!Simon who thinks it's absolutely adorable that his little one likes Riley so much.

"Dada!" The baby called out for Simon.

"Dada, Ri-ley" They said, pointing out a little finger to your family dog.

"Yeah pumpkin, that's Riley" Simon said, letting the little one make a beeline and waddled quickly towards Riley, giving the dog a hug with their tiny arms.

❥ Dad!Simon who spends forever looking for the skull part of his mask only to find the baby trying to chew on it, couldn't really blame them because the sight was cute and he knew how agitated they were with teething.

❥ Dad!Simon who constantly washed his gloves and almost never took it off during your baby's teething stage because god they were a strong biter. The gloves helped cushion the pain of the bites a lot.

❥ Dad!Simon who swore his heart was about to burst when he saw you and the baby meet him before he was able to go home after deployment for a surprise. (Of course Price was the one who set it up, he wanted to see his grandchild (might as well be)

"Dadadada–dada—da" Your baby squealed out while reaching out, recognizing Simon almost too fast even with the mask on.

"Pumpkin," Simon says as he takes your baby out of your arms and into his "–yeah, dada's here now. Missed me like I missed you?" Simon asks the baby as if they could actually respond.

The little one let out a happy little gurgle, hands reaching out for Simon's face.

"I'll take that as a yes" Simon tenderly kisses the top of the baby's head through his balaclava.

❥ Dad!Simon who loves baby hugs, the tiny little arms providing a bit of warmth while he holds his baby in his, rubbing their little head with his gloved hand and fingers.

Taskforce interacting with little Ghostie

[sttoru]

✸ 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔: satoru unexpectedly comes back home to his family after being gone on a week long business trip. .

word count. 1.6k +

tags. girl dad!gojo satoru x wife!female reader. fluff, tiny bits of angst, overall sfw. reader gets called 'mama; pretty, sweetheart, baby'. satoru being a good husband and dad. your daughter is around 2-3 years old.

the apartment is silent, something you aren’t used to. normally, you would not catch a break from the loud voices ringing in your ears twenty-four seven. it’d either be your husband’s or your daughter’s. or if they’ve teamed up to bother you, it’d be both. it’s been so long since the three of you were together. way too long.

satoru has been gone on this business trip for a week now. seven days without him is seven days without your other half. you feel empty for some reason, even if you have your lovely child who makes every day much better. you just can’t help but worry about your husband.

“mama, look!” your toddler calls out from the living room. you blink and find yourself back in the kitchen, instead of deep within your thoughts. you faintly smile at the adorable voice of your daughter. it reminds you that you’re not alone.

you walk into the living space and look around before spotting the toddler at the window walls. she’s pulled the curtains to the side so she could admire the scenery outside of your cozy apartment. you watch her excitedly jump up and down—like she’s discovered a big treasure.

“it’s raining!” she continues, running towards you and dragging you along to watch the raindrops fall onto the windows. you nod at her observation and pick her up. you kiss her cheek and gaze into her blue eyes, “yeah, it is! you’re such a smart girl.”

“yaayy! smart!” she giggles and nuzzles her cheek against yours. you wholeheartedly accept the affection with a warm laugh of your own. you both watch as it pours—from your perspective, the people below you look like small creatures, running around to get inside. you get lost in thought again at the sight.

you can’t help but wonder if it’s also raining where Satoru is. you hope he’s taken shelter by now, even though you know his infinity could easily block any rain from wetting his clothes. you don’t know what it is, but you’re undoubtedly worried sick about your husband whenever he is gone for too long.

“mama!” your toddler gasps and tugs at your clothes. your dissociating ends for a second because of the child in your arms. you absentmindedly hum and pat her back, letting her know that you’ve heard her. you’re too focused on your own thoughts and the gloomy scenery outside to hear anything else.

“mama! mama!” your daughter continues. this time, she kicks her legs, desperately seeking your attention. you kiss her cheek in response, still zoning out. she squeaks and giggles due to something. when she squirms too much in your embrace, you figure that it’s because she wants to be let down.

you crouch and allow your daughter back on her feet. you’re finally able to notice how she keeps staring at something behind you. she’s grinning from ear to ear, her tiny hand still tugging at your sleeve like she’s trying to notify you of something. her other hand points at the space behind you, “papa!”

you freeze. you don’t know whether you should turn around or not. is she joking around with you?

you tilt your head, patting your daughter’s head tenderly, her white hair as soft and fluffy as the one who’s she called out to, “papa? papa’s working, baby.”

a familiar chuckle softly reverberates through the room. one so smooth and nice to the ears; one that you immediately recognize as your lover’s. you nearly snap your neck by how fast you turn your head.

it must be a dream, you conclude. you can’t believe what you’re seeing. there he is, the man you’ve been praying to see. he stands there so casually, as if he’s planned this all, his hands in his pockets.

your husband smiles at you and your daughter. he’s more than happy to be back home as well.

“well, hello to you too, sweetheart,” satoru snickers, seeing your shocked expression. you’re frozen in place and have no clue how to react. you did not expect to see him any time soon nor did you even hear him come back in the first place.

“papa!” your daughter can’t hold her excitement anymore and jumps into her father’s arms. satoru happily accepts her hug and peppers her face with kisses, causing her to giggle uncontrollably.

he twirls her around before squeezing her tiny body to his chest, burying his nose into the crook of her neck. “mm. i missed you so much, baby girl. so so so much.”

you’re left somewhat processing the entire thing. you watch as satoru interacts with your toddler, tightly hugging her until she’s playfully whining about the lack of air.

he gives her a firm peck on her forehead and eventually puts her down, ruffling her hair affectionately, “you promised to be a good little girl for mama while i was gone, right?”

“yeah! been a rweaaally good girl f’ mama,” she nods repeatedly and clings onto satoru’s leg, awaiting praise for her good behavior. the white-haired man lets out a low chuckle and pinches her chubby cheeks in a gentle manner, “i knew my little girl wouldn’t let me down, heheh.”

you try to articulate some words, but nothing comes out. you take a step forward once you’re ready to face reality. your bottom lip trembles as the all the experienced emotions overwhelm you.

satoru instantly notices and smiles, opening his arms to welcome you into his embrace. which you immediately do.

“aww, there’s my pretty wife,” satoru sighs in relief, pleased to have the love of his life back in his strong arms. it’s like all the stress he’s felt throughout his seven-day long mission has evaporated. the same goes for the weary state his body was in before setting foot in your shared space.

the tears stream down your cheeks. they’re happy tears—tears of relief. all your worries are eliminated as your lover is now safe and sound before you.

satoru allows you to cry it out, not minding his clothes getting wet. your precious tears wetting his uniform is much better than the pouring rain doing so.

“it’s okay. ‘m here now,” satoru coos. he kisses the tip of your ear, moving down to your earlobe before showing your neck the same affection. his romantic touch is one you’ve missed greatly.

his big hands rub up and down your back, his lips trying to distract you from the tears. he moves to cup your face and leaves a warm kiss on your forehead, “you’re so precious. you did so well while i was gone, baby.”

satoru knows it must’ve been tough to take care of your daughter alone, whilst simultaneously taking care of all chores around the house. you’re the strongest woman he knows. his eyes sparkle with love as he wipes the tears from your cheeks, “there, there. .”

you sniff and cup satoru’s face this time, touching him like you’re making sure that he’s indeed real. You look around for any possible scratches but find none. luckily.

your voice is shaky as you speak up for the first time in a while, “welcome back, honey. i missed you s’much.”

your husband bites his lip at the sound of your voice cracks. your looks are captivating, even more when you’re so emotional. your beautiful eyes that glimmer with tears lure him in without fail. he’s longed for this. to see you and hold you again, without relying on some pictures on his phone.

he can’t hold back the urges within him any longer.

“c’mere,” satoru hisses, an unexpected switch in his tone. he suddenly pulls your body flush against his, his head lowering so his lips could crash down onto yours. your eyes widen at the abrupt gesture, but you quickly close them to fully enjoy the sensations. you hold him close to you while you return the kiss.

after a couple seconds, you both pull away, out of breath by the sudden moment of pure passion. the sorcerer grins and hugs you again. satoru rests his chin on top of your head and allows you to catch your breath, “i’m glad to be back.”

the soft pitter patter of the rain against the glass of the windows continues in the background. it’s a peaceful moment—two lovers reunited in their safe space. this is all you’ve wished for.

the sounds of wrappers falling to the floor and someone rummaging through plastic bags put an end to the sweet atmosphere between satoru and you. you both look to the side at the same time, only to find out that your daughter’s already been snacking on the goodies that satoru bought back from his trip.

the two of you burst out into laughter at the sight of the toddler munching on some chocolate, her cheeks as well as her hands being a complete mess. you were far too engrossed in your shared affection to notice that the little child has snuck off to inspect the bags on the coffee table.

“yummy!” your daughter exclaims once she notices that both her parents have caught her red handed. she reaches her arm out towards you, a half eaten piece of chocolate in her dirty little hand, “mama try.”

“no no, thank you. it’s all yours,” you giggle and shake your head. she’s too cute to scold and you can easily guess that satoru seems to agree with that statement. he walks over to the little girl and boops her nose lovingly.

“she’s got a sweet tooth jus’ like her papa, hm?” satoru comments light-heartedly. he grabs a nearby tissue and starts to clean the area around her cheeks, hoping to lessen the damage that’s already been done.

he truly missed this. the comfortable feeling of belonging somewhere.

“jus’ like papa!” your daughter innocently repeats after satoru as he cleans her up, causing the both of you to laugh again.

you’re happy to have your family back together.

[melanchol1cs]

WHAT GOOD IS SORRY?

ex husband!leon x f!reader

word count: 3.3k summary: why does one wound those they love so deeply? masterlist | taglist | ko-fi

18+ MDNI. mentions of divorce, cheating/infidelity, awkward leon stuff, guilt, yearning, leon and reader have a child together — and i named her denise for whatever reason, getting stood up by a date, drunk texting, kissing, oral(r!receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, bittersweet ending(?) i guess.

a/n: old wip,, this was supposed to be super gut wrenching and angsty but for some reason, my brain didn’t want to cooperate and decided that this would be the ending. also, i’ve been contemplating whether to address this or not and even tho its not a big issue, PLEASE interact with my posts. it’s the only way i’m able to know that you guys actually like the stuff i write, and ever since i’ve started writing on here 7 months ago, i’ve been noticing a decrease in interactions. im honestly losing motivation to write because i truly don’t know if people actually read my shit and like it. anyway, enjoy my mediocre writing ^___^

leon regrets everything he’s done up to this point. running into ada on a mission, going to the bar with her afterwards, and the kiss. the stupid kiss that eventually led up to this.

the divorce.

it all felt wrong, so wrong. yet here he was, driving his car to your doorstep, his stomach in knots despite having done this several times before.

for the sake of your daughter, the two of you had decided that shared custody would be the best option.

he stands at the door, hesitating before knocking, his knuckles hovering anxiously. clearing his throat, he gently raps his knuckles against the door, hoping for an answer. he's already second-guessing himself, wondering if he should have texted or called first.

your door eventually opens, and he's met with a familiar face. you.

you greet him with a civil smile, pressing a kiss into your daughter’s hair before ushering her inside.

he fidgets, adjusting the brim of his leather jacket nervously as he takes in the sight of you.

you reach to shut the door, catching a glimpse of him awkwardly hovering over you porch.

“you okay?”

he tries to find his voice. "yeah, i just, uh... i was just thinking..”

he looks down at his feet, kicking the ground with the side of his scuffed boot, as if trying to buy some time or maybe just willing the floor to swallow him up. when he speaks, his voice is low and sheepish. “when i was— last night, i thought… uh, do- do you remember when.. shit. are you free this weekend?”

”what?” you muse at his question. “leon, i really don’t wanna have this conversation with you again,”

he winces at the rebuff, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets as a defensive measure.

leon’s adam’s apple bobs up and down as he swallows hard, his ears burning at your words. he looks anywhere but at you, his eyes darting over the porch railing, the foliage, the sky — anywhere but your eyes. oh, those eyes he adored so much.

"no, wait, hear me out,”

"listen..." he takes a deep breath, steeling himself for whatever fallout this might bring, knowing he's already on shaky ground. “i just wanna talk.. to you.”

he shifts his weight, glancing up at the roof of the house as if the heavens themselves could offer a solution. when he does meet your gaze again, his eyes are pleading, his jaw clenched with a mix of anxiety and something akin to desperation.

“i’m sorry, leon. i’m busy,”

he scoffs and his face scrunches up, a pained grimace contorting his features as he cuts you off. “c’mon, please?” he's standing too close now, invading the personal space he once knew so well. “i.. i know it isn’t what we do anymore but—“

“no, seriously. i literally can’t. i have something up.”

“oh.” he deflates slightly at your dismissal, shoulders slumping in defeat. a soft, regretful sigh escapes his parted lips, and his eyes drop, gaze wandering aimlessly. "can- can you can you cancel? is it really important? what about on sunday-? i’m sure we can..“

“leon.” it's not a question this time, you stare at him with the tiniest hint of pity. “i have a date.”

ouch. he freezes, his chest constricting as if he's been punched. a date? the words echo in his mind, each syllable like a dagger to his pride, his ego, his everything. a muscle in his jaw twitches, his hands clenching and unclenching in his pockets. leon swallows hard, his throat suddenly parched.

"oh," he repeats, the sound barely above a whisper. he takes a shaky breath, trying to calm the storm brewing inside him.

he rubs a hand over the back of his neck, jaw working in agitation as he grapples with the blow of your words. a snarky retort rises in his throat, a cutting remark to deflect the sting, but it withers on his tongue, a futile attempt at salvaging pride he knows is misplaced.

leon swallows hard, his mouth opening and closing a few times before he finally finds his voice, laced with a wry bitterness. “yeah, no worries.. guess that's that," a bitter, hollow chuckle escapes him as he shifts his weight. his tone is flippant, trying to mask the sting of rejection, but the defeat is palpable as he turns to leave. he starts down the porch steps, his boots thudding against the wooden slats.

you finally close the door on him, standing by the door, hand on the knob, unease prickling along you skin like a thousand tiny needles, each one stinging with the weight of guilt. you sigh, rubbing the bridge of her nose as she tries to process her feelings. guilt, regret, a twinge longing — it's all so confusing, so messy.

the weight of his pleading eyes, the desperation in his tone — he had no right acting like a dejected puppy after he cheated on you.

you shake your head, face between your hands. he made his choices, just as you had, and now it was time to move on. you squared your shoulders, took a deep breath, and stepped away from the door, determined to let go of the ghost of what was and focus on the life you were building. for you, and your daughter.

but it’s not really easy.

not when you’re sitting alone at a restaurant, waiting for a date that never bothered to show.

your phone buzzes and you hold your breath. hoping for some sort of confirmation, but it's quickly snuffed out.

‘hey, sorry i couldn’t make it. something important came up’ the simple text reads. the same stupid excuse. every. single. time. your heart sinks, a dull ache forming in the pit of your stomach.

a bitter, derisive chuckle escapes your lips. serves you right. you knew he was trouble from the start. yet, your heart aches, a dull throb of pain and disappointment. you feel so foolish, sitting there, waiting for someone who never shows. though, it isn't really new.

now you lay in your bed, having already kicked off your heels and changed out of the uncomfortably tight dress you wore.

you pull the blankets up to your chin, suddenly feeling cold. you toss and turn, brooding and wallowing in misery, and it seemed like you’ve been doing it for hours till you’re startled out of your fitful doze by the buzz of your phone.

it's a text from leon, of course it is. it’s another one of his ‘where are u? i miss u’ ‘can’t stop thinking about you. please let me c u’ meltdowns.

he's drunk again, you can tell by the sloppy caps and the desperate pleas. every time he has a rough night, he always thinks coming over will magically fix everything. and you always refuse, knowing he’s only drunk and alone. but tonight, you feel particularly lonely.

your thumb hovers over the keyboard, and before you know it, you're typing. ‘come over.’ you hesitate, then send the message.

by then, he’s already halfway out the door, stumbling out and nearly falling as he trips over his own feet in his haste. he takes the stairs two at a time, a goofy, shit-eating grin plastered on his face. when he reaches your door, he pounds on it with a fist. his breath comes out in short puffs as he waits, anticipation making his heart race.

click.

the door creaks open a fraction and his eyes lock onto you, looking all soft and domestic in a robe. leon's breath catches in his throat as his eyes drink you in.

he tumbles in, arms outstretched as if he's about to catch something. he's immediately in your space, arms around you in a tight, needy embrace. his face buries itself in the crook of your neck, breathless with relief and something else, something suspiciously like love.

“leon—“ he smashes his mouth against yours, tongue pushing past your lips, the taste of beer and regret in his breath. his hands roam, sliding up your back, gripping your hair, fingers splayed wide as if to assure himself you're real. a low, desperate sound escapes him, half-groan, half-moan as his body presses against yours. he's desperate, sloppy, but undeniably passionate. when he finally breaks for air, he rests his forehead against yours, eyes glassy with drink and longing.

“missed you s’ much, baby,” he presses a kiss to your neck, tongue tracing the pulse point with a reverence that borders worship.

“let me make it up to you, please,” he looks up at you with those big, puppy-dog eyes, an expression so pathetic it’s comical. yet, the desperation behind them makes it anything but.

his hands skim down your sides to your hips, fingers digging in as if to keep you anchored to him. his face buried in the crook of your neck as his hands knead the meat of your ass, claws digging in through the fabric of your robe. his breath hitches as he nuzzles into you, inhaling deeply as if committing you to memory.

he trails a string of open-mouthed kisses down your neck, pausing to nibble on your collarbone before continuing his journey south. his hands never stop moving, roaming over your body with an insatiable hunger.

you let out a soft whimper, arching into his touch. "bedroom," you breathe out, and he happily obliges.

once inside, he kicks the door shut behind him and spins you around, backing you up against the bed. he begins to undo your robe with shaking fingers, your heavy breathing and the rustling of silk the only sounds in the charged silence between you. when the robe falls open, he pushes it off your shoulders, letting it pool at your feet.

the thin, sheer fabric of your nightgown offers little resistance as he practically rips it off you. a shaky breath escapes his parted lips as he reaches for you again, fingers grazing your skin as if he's not quite trusting his own touch.

he guides you to the bed, pushing you to sit on the edge. he immediately drops to his knees before you, face between your legs.

“these ‘re pretty,” he slurs out, before he fucking tears your underwear off.

“leon!”

he chuckles at your reaction, a low, rumbling sound in the back of his throat. “sorry,” he murmurs against your inner thigh, his hot breath causing goosebumps to rise in its wake. “gonna buy you new ones,”

his stubble scrapes against your sensitive skin as he slowly trails open-mouthed kisses up your thigh, savoring every inch of you that you’re willing to give him.

he buries his face between your legs, licking and sucking with a single-minded devotion that makes your toes curl and eyes roll back in your head. his scruffy cheeks hollow as he sucks a hickey into the soft flesh of your inner thigh.

god, it’s been so long. the feelings practically foreign.

his tongue begins to lash at your slit, long and flat, with a dexterity that belies his level of inebriation.

“you still mine?” he huffs. “‘course you are, ‘m the only one that can get ya this wet,”

slurp, smack, suck, repeat.

his tongue is relentless, probing your entrance, swirling around your clit with increasing fervor. he's sloppy, uncoordinated, but it only serves to heighten the intensity of it all. every time he pulls back, you can hear his heavy breathing, feel the vibrations of his moans against your most intimate flesh. your fingers thread into his hair, tugging him closer as your back arches off the bed. a keening whimper escapes you, the sound muffled by your clenched teeth as you struggle to maintain some semblance of control.

“fuck, leon—” your words trail off into incoherent mumbles as he drives you closer to the edge, tongue darting in and out with a pace that’ll make a grown woman go crazy. “d-denise, were gonna wake her up,”

a low growl rumbles in his chest as he responds to your whine. there's a hint of accusation in his gaze, but it quickly morphs into a look of raw, desperate need. “don’t matter,” he's relentless, persistent, refusing to back down even as you tremble and writhe beneath him.

he grunts, his attention snapping back to you, blue eyes squinting as he looks up from between your thighs. his tongue is a damn metronome, lapping and smacking with a relentless rhythm that has you chasing the edge of oblivion.

it's like every drunken fantasy he's ever had is being poured out onto you. messy, uncoordinated, desperate. and you’re eating it up. “gonna make you forget all about that stupid date," he mutters through slurred words. "’m the only man who can make you feel this good,"

he's not wrong. the way he's attacking you with his tongue, it's like he's trying to prove a fucking point.

"leon, please," you gasp out, and he takes it as an invitation to continue. your entire body is wound up tight, a taut string ready to snap. he slips a finger in, then two, curling them just right so that they’re pressing against that spongy spot that has you seeing stars.

your legs wrap around his head, fingers threading into his hair as you pull him in as close as humanly possible. his name is a chant on your lips, a prayer to the gods of pleasure. "leon, leon, leon,". denise could come in right now and catch you like this — legs splayed, back arched, eyes squeezed shut in bliss. he's that good. or maybe that bad. you dont know. and you don’t care to find out.

"yeah, just like that," he praises, voice a low, gravelly growl. "love my fingers in this greedy little cunt, don't you?"

your thighs clench around his head, heels digging into his back as you ride out the pleasure. "gonna cum, leon, please—“ yours words trail off into a wail, a keen of pure, unadulterated euphoria.

your back arches, toes curl, and your fingers dig into his hair, holding him to you as the wave crashes over you. he tugs you down to the edge of the bed, practically burying his face in your groin. he laps at your slit, in and out, in and out, until the last bit of resistance melts away.

he lifts his face from between your legs, eyes hazy and unfocused as he fumbles to unbuckle his pants. once he has it off, he's back, pushing your legs apart as he kneels between them. the thick of his length throbs against your lower belly, and you can feel his racing heartbeat through every inch of him that's in contact with you.

he notches the head of his cock at your entrance, pressing in just enough to make you feel the pressure, gathering your juices before giving a long, slow stroke up and down, coating himself in you. he's throbbing, pulsing with need, and you can practically taste the desperation in your mouth.

he presses in, just the tip at first, then a bit more. slow, shallow strokes, in and out. his hips rock against yours, the motion slow and languid. one of his hands cups your cheek, thumb brushing over your closed eyelids to check if he was dreaming. the other hand palms the small of your back, fingers digging in as if to anchor himself. your legs wrap around his waist, ankles locking behind his back as he slowly sinks into you.

he's quiet for a moment, just holding you, his heart racing in his chest as if he's trying to communicate something without using words. his hips move, the action slow and lazy, as if he's trying to spoon you into submission.

he pulls out, just to the tip, before pushing back in. the motion is slow, sensual, a deliberate teasing that has you whining and writhing beneath him.

sweat beads on his brow, tracing down the lines of his face, but he doesn't slow. if anything, he's driven by a desperate need to make up for lost time, to prove himself worthy of you. your back arches, hands scrabbling for purchase on the sheets as he pistons in and out, the force of his thrusts rocking your entire body. he's not gentle, not soft, but rough and demanding, just like he always used to be when he was trying to stake his claim.

he nips at your earlobe, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh before he sooths it with his tongue. “fuck, feels so good,” he gasps out, his words punctuated by the slap of skin against skin. “can't believe i ever let you go.”

"leon," you whimper, the name a plea, a prayer. his lips find yours in a sloppy, frantic kiss. he's drinking you in, devouring your mouth, your moans, your gasps, trying to consume every ounce of you.

he's sweating, hair a mess, face scrunched up in concentration, but those blue eyes remain locked on yours.

you're lost in the sensation, every nerve ending on high alert, screaming for friction, for relief, for release. "leon, leon, gonna cum," you pant, your voice raw, your throat dry. "please, i—" but your pleas are swallowed by his next thrust, his cock dragging against your sensitive walls.

he leans forward, his forehead pressing against yours, noses nearly touching. his hot breath mingles with yours, the scent of his beer-soaked breath and the musk of his arousal mingling together in the most intoxicating way. "love you," he suddenly whispers, the words a quiet, a desperate confession that hangs in the air between you.

“love you, love you, fuck—“

the way your walls squeeze him when you cum drags his own orgasm from him. for a long moment, he stays frozen, buried to the hilt, his chest heaving against yours as he tries to catch his breath.

the heat of your body seeps into his skin, chasing away the chill of the night air. he collapses against you, a boneless heap of satisfied male. his cock throbs, pulses, and drips onto the bed between your legs as he tries to catch his breath. the room is silent, save for your joint heavy breathing, and the occasional groan as his softening length slips out of you. eventually, he rolls off, lying on his back beside you, one big hand coming to rest on your stomach, thumb stroking in a slow, idle pattern. his eyes are hazy, unfocused, but they find yours and hold. a small, sheepish smile tugs at his lips.

"sorry," he slurs out, the word garbled and slightly off-kilter. "i shoulda been better, should’ve tried harder, i... i‘m gonna make things right, i swear,"

he peppers your neck with soft kisses, his stubble rasping against your tender flesh. he's warm, solid, and comforting. gentle and tender, a stark contrast to the desperation that drove him mere moments ago.

he's not reaching for grand gestures or flowery declarations. he's asking for something simple, intimate, and achingly human. a chance to hold you, to sleep beside you, to maybe, begin to rebuild something from the rubble of what once was.

and for a moment, you let yourself believe that he’ll be different this time. that he's not just trying to relive past glories, but genuinely wants to make amends, to start anew.

tags: @crowleyco @withonly-sweetheart @fanilkychae

[heavyhitterheaux]

Flip a Switch

Synopsis: When you find out information regarding your husband and his career, you confront him and demand an explanation as to why he kept it a secret from you

Pairing: Husband!Joe Burrow x Wife!Reader

Requested by: a cutie anon 💕

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

You walked into the house with a smile on your face and was met with your husband coming out of the kitchen. He was originally looking down at his phone, but once he heard the front door open, he looked up to see his favorite person running full speed into him and he immediately caught you. Your arms instantly went around his neck as he buried his face in your hair.

“I missed you.” You whispered to him as you picked your head up to kiss him.

“I think I missed you more. I didn’t think you would be gone that long, but truth be told I should have known better. Any time the two of you go out together you tell me that you won’t be long and it ends up being the complete opposite.” He responded as he placed you back down on your feet, but still had a tight hold on you.

“Hmm, blame your mom. At first it was only supposed to be lunch, but then we went shopping and then I somehow ended up in the candle section of TJ Maxx and it was….”

“How much money did you spend? Because I don’t see any bags with you.” Joe asked as he looked behind you.

“Oh, they’re in the car. My original plan was to sneak them in, but I saw that you were back from practice so I decided against it knowing that you would probably see me. And I'm not telling you how much I spent.”

“Mm hmm, like those six amazon packages that were delivered last week.” Joe said as he eyed you, but all you did was smirk.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, baby.” You playfully told him as you kissed him once more.

“Yeah, I think I’ve heard that line before.”

“But, would you mind bringing the bags in for me while I go and take a shower? Then I’ll meet you back down here?” You asked as you batted your eyelashes hoping that he would say yes.

“Don’t I do anything and everything for you? You didn’t even need to do all that. All you had to do was ask.” Joe laughed as he reached down to kiss your nose.

“Yes I did! Your mom also went with me to get them done! Don’t they look good?”

“I… I need to set some boundaries when you two hang out together because every time it gets worse and worse.”

“Hey! Don’t get mad that your mom loves me more than you and wants to spend time with me! But on a real note, I’m super thankful for your family and the way that they embraced me when we first started dating. When you don’t come from that and not being told you’re important and you’re loved, it really is amazing to see.” You confided in your husband and a smile grew on his face.

“From our first date, I knew that they would love you. After we had dinner that one night when I took you to meet them, both of my parents told me that you were the one and that they could see it. Now look, married for two years.”

“Really? You never told me that. I adore both of them so much and they treat me like I’m theirs.”

Your in-laws were some of the most amazing and caring people that you had ever met and you instantly felt at ease when Joe first introduced them to you.

“Oh trust and believe that they do. Any time I call them, the first thing they ask me is ‘how’s Y/N?’ like I haven’t been their child for damn near 28 years, but I get it. I’m obsessed with you just like everyone else is. And now we’re trying to add a little one to that.” He responded as he gently placed his hand on your mid-section.

“Hopefully it’ll happen soon. We can try again later if you’re up for it.” You told him as you sent a wink his way.

“I’m definitely not going to turn that down. But for now, go upstairs and I’ll get your 100 bags out of the car.” He said as he finally released you from his embrace and you were missing his warmth already.

“It’s not that many this time, I promise!”

“Yeah, not listening to you because last time I had to make three trips.”

“I got stuff for you too!”

“Not the point!” Joe yelled back as he had opened the door and was making his way to your car.

Making your way up the steps and into your shared bedroom with Joe, you threw off your clothes and put them into the hamper as you made your way into the bathroom to warm up the water for your shower. You washed your face before checking the temperature of the water and when you were finally satisfied with it, you covered your faux locs with a shower cap and finally stepped underneath the water. You grabbed your coconut body wash and grabbed your wash cloth as you began to lather it all over your body.

You were rinsing off, when you suddenly felt a presence behind you which made you jump. Turning around you were face to face with your husband and you playfully hit him on his arm.

“You scared me! Don’t do that!”

“I’m sorry! I thought you heard me!”

“How in the world could I have heard you with the shower running, babe? Be serious!”

“You hear me any other time! I didn’t mean to scare you.” Joe told you as he leaned down to kiss you.

“I was thinking maybe we could get some practice in before later.” He whispered against your lips before kissing you once more and moving his hands down to your hips.

“But only if…” You immediately cut him off.

“Yes.”

“Then jump.”

–

As the two of you sat on the couch after your shower, Joe's arms were wrapped around you and placing soft kisses all over your face and neck as you scrolled through Instagram.

“Baby! Quit it!” You told him while laughing, but he held onto you tighter and nuzzled his face in your neck.

“Why? You smell so good, like I could eat you.”

“You did that already less than an hour ago actually. Don’t you remember?”

“Yes, and I plan on doing it again later.” He whispered and you playfully rolled your eyes.

"Joseph Lee...." You quietly said and Joe's heart rate instantly began to increase because of the tone of your voice.

"Um, yes baby? Am I in trouble? You never call me by my name unless I am." He tried to make light of it by laughing, but the last thing that you were was amused.

“I'm about to turn you every way but loose if you don't explain this." As you shoved your phone towards him, he began to read the Instagram post and his eyes began to widen as he saw what it was about.

He refused to look at you and muttered a simple ‘fuck’ under his breath as he pinched the bridge of his nose with his right hand as you moved your phone away from his face and set it to the side of you.

“So, that's all you have to say?” You asked him and it was clear to him that there was no way that he was getting out of this conversation any time soon.

“I… babe… look I've just been thinking about it. Nothing is permanent yet. I don't want you to get upset about this.”

“How can I not get upset about it?” You slightly raised your voice as you moved off of his lap to sit next to him.

“Like I said, nothing is certain yet.”

“Hmm, so you hide secrets from me now?”

“Baby, it's not a secret. I….”

“It obviously is a secret because I had to find out on instagram of all places. So when were you going to tell your wife that you want to be TRADED?”

“Soon, okay? I was going to tell you soon!”

“How soon?! Like, how can you even think about that? Especially at a time like this?”

“Babe….”

“NO! We made a five year plan and that plan included us staying here. I just got the job that I had been after for more than three years! We just bought this house! We plan on having a baby! We’re close to your parents and your family. If we leave, we won’t have ANY of that!” You explained to him and the thought of all of that happening so soon honestly terrified you.

“Okay, I get that, I really do. But I also have to think about what’s best for me and what’s best for my career. I thought that you would understand that!”

“Without consulting me?! Last time I checked I was your wife! You literally tell me EVERYTHING. Don’t you think that this is something that we should talk about?! Especially when it literally might change everything that I’ve worked for!”

“In a marriage, sacrifices and compromises need to be made.” Joe told you as he shrugged, and your anger and frustration at him had hit a new level.

“Didn’t realize that pissing me off was on your agenda for the night.”

“I’m not trying to! Like I said, I haven’t even signed anything yet so there is no reason for you to be losing your shit on me like you are right now!”

“It’s the principle of it! YOU LIED TO ME. The person that I married NEVER lies to me. That’s my issue and you are seriously up here acting like it’s no big deal!? I literally just told you earlier when I got back how important your family is to me and that I love being around them and now I find this out? This is the first time that I actually feel like I have one! And me finding this out doesn’t even come from my own husband?”

“The only thing I’m sorry for is not telling you and then you finding out on social media. That’s it.”

“Never thought that I would say this, but I don’t think I want to be around you right now.” You quietly told him as you got up from the couch with him trying to take hold of your wrist.

“Baby….”

“I’m going upstairs.”

Leaving Joe in the living room, you walked upstairs and sat on your bed as you were trying to collect your thoughts about what had just happened. Your biggest thing was that he kept this from you. You were literally the first person that he told everything to so you couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t tell you this seeing as this is a big decision being made for him and his career.

Bottom line was that you were hurt.

Just when things were starting to go your way and you had finally gotten settled and comfortable with living here, it seemed like it was being pulled right from underneath you.

Your phone that had been long forgotten after seeing the post suddenly vibrated and you looked to see that it was a text from Joe’s mom, Robin. Quickly opening it, you saw that it was a screenshot of the same instagram post that you had confronted your husband about.

Robin- Did you know about this? He hasn’t said anything to us.

You- Nope, nothing. I found out the same way you did and I let him have it.

It was now Saturday evening and you and Joe were sitting at the dining room table eating dinner in absolute silence. You had originally found out on Wednesday and had said less than ten words to him every day since then. It was awkward, and Joe knew that he had to be the one to fix it so that the two of you were both satisfied with the decision in the end. Soon after you had walked away from him that night, he had gotten a call from his parents to demand an explanation on why they found out via social media and not him.

“Baby?”

“What?”

“How long are you going to ignore me?” Joe asked and you wanted to jump in his arms right then and there, but you had to stand your ground.

“I’m not ignoring you. I’m talking to you right now.”

“You’ve barely said anything to me since Wednesday and it’s now Saturday night.”

“Hmm, playing for your new team tomorrow or are you still employed with the Bengals?” You pettily asked and Joe immediately sighed before rolling his eyes.

“Seriously?”

“I just asked a question and there’s no harm in me doing that.” You answered as you stabbed your mashed potatoes.

“Are you coming to the game tomorrow?” Joe asked with uncertainty.

“When have I missed a home game of yours?”

“Never. But you’ve never been this pissed at me before either. At least from what I remember.”

“Well you brought this on yourself, but yes I’m coming along with your parents. Now hurry up and finish eating so I can clean up.”

“I can do it, don’t even worry about it.” Joe told you as he sighed and pushed the food around on his plate.

“And are you actually going to sleep next to me tonight?”

“I’ll decide when I get upstairs, but no promises.” You answered over your shoulder as you had started to walk away.

After Joe had cleaned up the kitchen, he made his way to his office down the hall and closed the door. Once he sat down, he dialed Brian’s number who was his agent and he picked up on the second ring.

“Hey, I was just about to call you.”

“Hey, so did you read over the contract? How does it look?” Joe asked as he leaned back in his office chair.

“I did and I personally don’t think this is the best move for you. I get it that you might be frustrated with the way that things are going right now with the team, but this will probably lead you to being more unhappy.”

“How so?”

“First off, they are definitely low balling you for money and they don’t look like they’re changing their minds about that. They claim that they want you so bad, but obviously not bad enough. How did Y/N react when you told her?”

“She found out on instagram and proceeded to rip me a new one. She’s still not really talking to me since she believes that I kept this from her.”

“Well, I can see her point and you did keep it from her. I don’t know who ended up leaking it, but when it happened, I knew that it wasn’t about to go over well. My advice, stay where you are. We can get a few more good years out of them and if you’re still not satisfied, then we’ll look elsewhere.”

“If you think that’s best.”

“I do, but you need to tell your wife first when we get to that point so she isn’t blindsided like she was this time.”

“Now that I can agree with.”

After staying on the phone a little bit longer with Brian, Joe walked upstairs to the master bedroom and was surprised to see you sitting there. Once you looked up at him, you sighed and then patted the space next to you to tell him to sit down. Once he did, you took his hand in yours before saying anything.

“I thought about what I said the other day and I need to apologize to you too. I think that my reaction also made you think that I didn’t support you when that is far from the truth. I will follow you anywhere and do absolutely anything for you. I just… that blindsided me and it also made me think that you didn’t totally support me either. I can find another job, I get that but everything that I want is right in front of me.” You confessed and Joe simply nodded his head, letting you know that he understood.

“I know that you support me and that thought never crossed my mind. You were upset and for good reason. I should have told you and not gone behind your back trying to hide it from you. You deserved better than that and you were completely right when you said that I tell you absolutely everything.”

“So, therefore whatever you decide, it’s fine.”

“No.” Joe quickly answered and you were left confused.

“No?”

“Before any big decisions like that are made, we have to come to that decision together so that we don’t go through this again. I don't like it when my wife doesn't talk to me or she doesn't want to be around me.”

“Okay, agreed. And I also missed giving you kisses.” You confessed and laughed at the small smirk showing on Joe's face.

“So with that being said, we’re not going anywhere.” Joe told you and you looked at him in disbelief.

“But, I thought…”

“Brian looked over the contract and was trying to negotiate, but he told me it’s probably in my best interest to stay here so that’s what I’m going to do.”

“Now, are you absolutely sure?” You asked your husband and he simply nodded his head.

“Positive and at the end of the day, I also want to keep my wife happy since she's in it with me for the long haul.”

“Sacrifices and compromises.” You quietly said as he repeated it back to you.

“Sacrifices and compromises.”

Joe leaned over to place a kiss on your forehead and you immediately embraced him.

“So, I guess my good luck charm is actually sleeping next to me tonight?”

“I am, so you better make sure that you win.” You told him as you got comfortable on your side of the bed with him climbing in next to you and wrapping his arms around you.

It was quiet for a few minutes before you spoke.

“Baby?”

“Oh, so my name is back to being baby now?”

“Don't push it, Joseph.” You told him as he laughed.

“Hmm. Yes?”

“What team were you going to go to? I want to know. I'm curious.”

“I don't even want to tell you because you aren't going to let me hear the end of it if I do. You might even ask for a divorce.”

“You are so dramatic. Why? You're not going anymore so tell me.”

Joe mumbled something under his breath, but you turned around to face him in the hopes that you would be able to hear him better.

“What was that, babe?”

“Ravens.”

“JOSEPH LEE BURROW! WHAT!?” You yelled as you sat up and turned on the lamp that was sitting on the bedside table.

“SEE! THAT'S WHY I DIDN'T WANT TO TELL YOU! Apparently Lamar had been having some issues with his contract soooo……”

“I would have NEVER forgiven you for that one.”

“You made that pretty clear, princess and like I said you would probably ask for a divorce.”

“Not a divorce, but we would definitely have to separate for a while.”

[gyubakeries]

OT13 reaction to: their kid stealing an item from them.

a/n: was struck by random inspo while working on a request i got (i will be posting all requests IM SO SORRY FOR BEING SO LATE) but yeah!!! also credits to @sousydive for suggesting the bonus woozi reaction hahaha 💗 i also think i got a little carried away haha 😭 i hope you guys like it!

contents: seventeen x afab!reader , dad!seventeen , husband!seventeen , crack , fluff , woozi's pink underwear makes a guest appearance , seventeen and reader have kids , some members have a boy and some have a girl, some have both; i just chose at random , just a lot of cutesy vibes

seungcheol:

"babe, where's my rolex?" seungcheol calls out, and you hurriedly rush into the bedroom from the kitchen. "what do you mean where's your rolex? don't tell me you've misplaced it, choi seungcheol!" you hiss, panicked. the rolex was a gift to seungcheol from your parents after you got married, and besides the sentimental value, the price of it alone was enough to make anyone faint.

"i put it right where i put it every day!" seungcheol says defensively. "and i didn't wear it over the weekend either!"

just then, your toddler waddles into the room excitedly, giggling cutely. "mama, look! shiny!"

"baby, not now," you sigh, focused on figuring out where the watch could be.

"daddy! i'm like you now! look!" your child tries again, and seungcheol, always the weakest when it came to his kid, looked down, only to burst into laughter.

you look up at seungcheol, wondering what could be so funny when a rolex is missing. but a quick glance at your child has you rolling on the floor in laughter.

because there your adorable baby was, with a shiny rolex hanging off his wrist and a brighter smile etched on his face.

"do i look like daddy?" your son tilts his head, and you can only sigh in relief as seungcheol pulls your kid into a hug, carefully slipping the watch off his wrist.

"mama thinks you look even more handsome, baby," you tease.

"hey! not fair!" seungcheol pouts.

(your small family spends a morning filled with laughter, until seungcheol has to rush to work because he realizes he's already late to his meeting.)

jeonghan:

"shit! where is he?" jeonghan murmurs under his breath, crouching on the floor to duck under the bed.

"babe? what are you looking for?" you question, walking into your bedroom to find jeonghan crawling on all fours.

"ddoljjongie!" jeonghan sighs, exasperated. "i can't find him anywhere!"

"that's strange," you muse, eyebrows furrowed as you try to recollect where you'd last seen jeonghan's pet rock.

ddoljjongie wasn't just any boring rock, he was jeonghan's 'pet', one he adopted from your first date with him at the beach. the rock was quite precious, always tucked away safely on your dresser, or his study, but right now, it had just disappeared.

"dada! mom! look, i made new friends!" your daughter rushes into the room, practically vibrating with happiness.

temporarily giving up on his search for ddoljjong, jeonghan follows you and your daughter to the backyard.

your daughter leads you both to the couch on the patio, showing off a.... rock collection?

"ddoljjongie!" jeonghan exclaims. before he can get to his rock though, your daughter stops him.

"wait! jjong made new friends! this is momo, that's kkumie, and that's hulk!" your daughter says, the last rock being a pebble covered in green moss.

"don't take jjong away, dada," your daughter pouts. "he's having so much fun here!"

jeonghan gives in quickly, ruffling his baby girl's hair. "alright, ddoljjong can stay here. now come back inside, it's bedtime."

you smile at how cute your family is, and you're also surprised at how easily jeonghan parts with his pet rock.

(the surprise only lasts till when you see your husband sneak out, draw a face on another similar shaped rock, put it in ddoljjong's place, and then tip-toe back into the house after your daughter has fallen asleep.)

joshua:

"shua, you should play us something on your guitar!" seokmin suggests, and everyone cheers. all of joshua's 12 chaotic friends have gathered in your living room, along with their families, to celebrate mingyu and his wife's pregnancy.

joshua, ever the crowd-pleaser, gets up to fetch his guitar. you follow him to your bedroom, passing your son's bedroom on the way. seungkwan's daughter and wonwoo's twins are playing an intense game of charades, while your son is busy doing.... something.

before you can find out what he's doing, joshua's panicked whisper catches your attention.

"babe! where's my guitar pick?" he asks, and you're just as confused. joshua's guitar and all related equipment are always stored neatly in your bedroom. there's no reason for the guitar pick to go missing.

you enter your bedroom, looking in the drawers of your dresser to find the guitar pick, but in vain.

your search is cut short by the sound of loud cheers from the living room, and a soonyoung who looks close to tears appearing at your bedroom door.

"you guys have to see this."

soonyoung was known for his dramatic streak, but seeing the sight everyone was cooing at in your living room made you tear up a little bit too.

joshua seems equally affected, if the arm wrapped around your shoulders and the love-filled gaze directed at you is anything to go by.

there's your little boy, sitting in the center of all his uncles and aunts, clutching his toy guitar and joshua's guitar pick. he's strumming the strings to mimic the playing of the instrument. although the strings don't make a musical sound, your son's voice singing 'sunday morning' by maroon 5 is enough to make you shed some tears.

everyone watches him with a smile on their faces, and you feel your chest swell with pride as your son looks like the splitting image of joshua, his eyes and lips curved into the exact identical smile of your husband.

(later, minghao and seungcheol send you videos of your son's performance from various angles, and jihoon leaves the house with a promise of signing your son under his record label one day. you can only feel grateful and happy seeing joshua play 'sunday morning' on his real guitar as your son sings along with him.)

junhui:

"y/n? could you get my lemon gummies along with the popcorn?" junhui requests. it's a movie date night for the two of you, and your twins (one boy and one girl) are asleep in their bedroom.

"god, you and your love for sour things," you sigh, feigning annoyance. when you first met junhui at a frat party in college, you were weirdly drawn in by the fact that he could eat an entire lemon without, like, dying from how sour it is.

"you love it," he winks playfully, making you laugh as you retreat to the kitchen to make popcorn. once the packet is in the microwave, you open the pantry to find the lemon gummies junhui loves to snack on.

from his last visit to his hometown, he had brought back at least five packets, three of which had been finished over the span of a year.

but where were the remaining two?

"babe? did you finish all the gummies?" you call out, moving around the various snacks and items in your pantry, looking for the gummies.

junhui is quick to come in the kitchen. "i remember there were a couple of packets left..." he mumbles, helping you look for the snack.

as if on cue, a loud scream rings out, followed by giggles. you and your husband share a quick glance before rushing up the stairs to your kids' bedroom.

you're bursting into the room, heart beating rapidly at the thought of your children getting hurt, but the sight that greets you calms you down instantly.

your adorable kids are seated on the floor, your daughter giggling loudly, and your son's face scrunched up in disgust. between them lies the missing packets of lemon gummies.

"baba! look, we ate gummy but he spit it!" your daughter chirps, babbling excitedly, while your son is vigorously wiping at his tongue, trying to get the sour flavor off his tongue.

"our daughter is just like you," you tease junhui, and he can only smile. he joins the kids on the floor, and you pass him a glass of water for your son.

"babies, i told you not to touch the lemon gummies," jun says, gentle yet firm. "they're too sour for you."

"not for me! i like sour!" your daughter pipes up, but your son, after finishing the water, scowls.

"it's too sour, baba," he pouts. "tastes yucky."

"you're just a scaredy-cat," your daughter teases your son, sticking her tongue out at him.

junhui turns back to meet your gaze, giving you a smile so sweet and loving that it makes you melt.

(you, junhui, and your kids spend the rest of the night, cuddled up on your twins' too-small-for-4-people bed, eating caramel popcorn and strawberry candy. your life has never been sweeter.)

soonyoung:

a loud shriek wakes you up abruptly. you were dozing off on the couch on a lazy, sunday afternoon, hoping to catch up on some much needed sleep after staying up with your daughter the entire night to help her finish a project.

but judging from how horrified your husband sounds, you realize that there really isn't much scope to catch a break in a household with two, hyper-active kwons.

"love? what's up?" you ask, walking into your bedroom. you see soonyoung clutching his hair in despair, standing in the middle of your bedroom. what was once a neatly arranged room now looks like a hurricane named 'kwon soonyoung' just rampaged through it.

"tamtam."

"what about tamtam?" you ask.

"he's gone. tamtam is missing." soonyoung whispers frantically, looking like he's about to absolutely lose his shit any moment now.

"he'll be around here somewhere," you try to placate him. "when did you last see him?"

"i know i brought him to the living room with me before we started on the family tree..." soonyoung mumbles, referring to the previous night, when you both stayed up with your daughter.

"let's go look there," you suggest, and soonyoung follows you, biting his lips in worry.

you look on the sofa, under the sofa, behind the sofa, even between the sofa cushions, but your search has been pointless.

until....

"wait, what's floopy doing here?" soonyoung asks, holding up your daughter's bunny plushie. if her father had an attachment to his tiger plushie, your daughter was impossibly glued to her bunny, floopy. it was extremely difficult to get her to do anything without floopy by her side, especially sleeping.

but if floopy was here, how was your daughter asleep upstairs?

soonyoung and you make your way to your daughter's bedroom, opening the door softly so as to not wake her up.

you tiptoe into the room first, smiling at how peaceful your daughter looked while she was sleeping. you peel back the blanket covering her gently, and sure enough, tamtam, soonyoung's beloved plushie, was cuddled up next to her, some of her drool dripping down to tamtam's poor face.

"too bad, soons. looks like she's taken over tamtam now," you whisper, only joking, but the look of pure sadness in soonyoung's eyes makes you laugh out loud, which in turn wakes your daughter up.

"daddy! look, tammie slept here today! we had the bestest sleepover," your daughter grins, ever the happy pill, just like her father.

"and you left floopy all alone in the living room," soonyoung pouts. "she's all upset and said she wouldn't talk to you, because you took tamtam with you."

your daughter's eyes widen immediately, and she's springing out of bed, chucking the tiger plushie in soonyoung's general direction and running over to the living room to reconcile with her precious floopy.

("you're a menace, soonyoung," you sigh. you had just managed to calm your daughter down after she began wailing because floopy wouldn't talk to her. soonyoung talking to her in a high-pitched voice, pretending to be the bunny plushie had managed to console your daughter.

"at least i provided a solution!" soonyoung says defensively, and you can only kiss his cheek because of how endearing he is.)

wonwoo:

"babe! breakfast is ready!" you call out, dishing out the last of the pancakes on a plate. you then open the fridge to grab the maple syrup, when you hear a loud crash in your bedroom.

"shit, wonwoo, are you okay?" you gasp, entering the bedroom to see wonwoo sitting on the floor, rubbing at his forehead, which had a red patch forming on it.

"can't see," he groans. "my glasses aren't here."

you rush to help him up and guide him to sit on the bed. you press your cold hands to his forehead, hoping to relieve some of the sting from the collision he had with the cupboard.

"that's strange," you mutter. "you always leave them on the bedside table. did you leave it in your study last night?"

"nope," he shakes his head. "i'm not that forgetful."

"i'll go check to be sure," you offer. "sit here, don't move. if you crash into my dresser and break the vase, you're a dead man, jeon wonwoo."

"okay okay," wonwoo nods. "please go check, i feel like my vision has been taken away from me."

you laugh at how helpless and silly your husband looks, sitting on the bed with a pout, his hair messy, and his forehead red.

"you're such an old, blind man," you tease.

"don't make me want to chase you around the house, y/n," wonwoo threatens playfully.

"you can't even see me, baby," you retort, and before wonwoo can reply, you're going off to the study to find his glasses.

just as you enter the study, you hear a loud crash coming from your son's room. you quickly hurry there, and it seems like your husband heard the crash too, because he's walking to the room with his hands held out in front of him to avoid any more accidents.

you open the door to find your son sitting in the same position you found wonwoo in not too long ago, rubbing at his forehead.

and, wait, is that wonwoo's glasses he's wearing?

"oh baby, what happened?" you coo, kneeling to the ground to gently pry the too big glasses slipping off your son's nose and handing it back to wonwoo.

"was wearing daddy's glasses to look like him, but i couldn't see anything, so i bumped into my cupboard," your son whines, and you can't believe you have two clumsy boys living in your house.

"you're just like your daddy, aren't you?" you laugh, and wonwoo chuckles as well. you sit down on the floor, pulling your son into your lap to fuss over him and make sure he's not seriously injured, and wonwoo joins you too.

"does anything else hurt, baby?" you ask, and your son shakes his head. "just have a boo-boo here, mommy," he says, pointing at his forehead.

you lean in to press a loud smooch to your son's forehead, pulling away to grin at him. "now your boo-boo will go away!"

"and what about my boo-boo?" wonwoo interrupts, and you can't help but laugh at how serious he looks.

"come here, you big baby."

(the rest of the morning is spent in both your boys arguing over who needs more cuddles from you. the stack of pancakes grow cold in the kitchen.)

jihoon:

"welcome hom- woah, what's got you in a rush?" you ask when your husband whizzes past you just as he returns home from work. you see him disappear into his studio, so you know he has a 'musical emergency.'

back from your dating days in college, jihoon had always been interested in producing music. although he didn't make a career out of it, he'd still write and compose songs in his free time.

at this point, you've lost track of how many songs jihoon has dedicated to you and your precious daughter. his family was his biggest inspiration, and you could really feel the genuine love and care he had for the most important girls in his life from his songs.

but today, there was something off about his production process.

"y/n, have you seen my headphones?" he asks you when you enter the studio.

"i swear i haven't touched them!" you raise your arms in surrender, reminded of how you had accidentally knocked a glass of water onto jihoon's headphones a few years back. ever since that day, you've made sure not to touch his music equipment, because you knew how precious they were to him.

"shit...." he mumbles worriedly. it wasn't like him to misplace his belongings, and no one really went into his studio if he hadn't invited or allowed them to.

just then, your daughter waddles into the room, a proud grin etched on her face.

"papa! i made you a song!"

jihoon, momentarily forgetting about his lost headphones to switch into girl-dad mode.

"can we hear it baby?" you ask encouragingly, and your daughter just gestures for you both to follow her.

jihoon and you trail behind your daughter, entering her bedroom to find an amusing sight. the mini pink, barbie piano and microphone set you bought for her was set up with a torch laying on the floor, which probably meant to imitate a spotlight.

on the bed was a toy laptop one of her friends had gifted her, and jihoon's headphones.

"used papa's special earmuffs to make a song!" your daughter claps, and all the tension in jihoon's body melts away in an instant. "mom, will you hold the spotlight please?"

you nod, silently gesturing at jihoon to record your daughter's performance. once her stage is set, she sits at the mini piano, positions the microphone near her mouth and starts playing her song.

it was endearing to see her look as serious as her father when he would play and sing his songs for you. the lyrics were mostly random sentences about unicorns and ice-cream, and the keys of the piano played discordant notes, but you'd never heard a more beautiful thing in your life before this.

(your daughter gets bored of performing after repeating 'twinkle twinkle little star' 5 times, so she runs away to watch cartoons, and jihoon finally stops recording. neither of you point out the happy tears that must've spilled out sometime during your daughter's rendition of 'old mcdonald had a farm' with extra animals like hippos and zebras. you can only wish the melody of your life remains this beautiful forever.)

(bonus, inspired by sousy. jihoon has a son in this:)

"y/n, has jihoon ever told you about his pink underwear?" mingyu giggles, like the menace he is.

"mingyu, have you told your wife about that horrendous bowl cut you had in high school? i have pictures i can show her right now." jihoon glares at his friend.

"pink underwear?" you laugh, amused. "i'm yet to hear about it."

"god, y/n, don't listen to him," jihoon groans, but the sound is drowned out by seokmin and soonyoung's ridiculously loud cackling. they point in the direction behind you, so you and jihoon turn around to see what they're laughing at.

sure enough, it's your son, running around the house like a madman with his father's infamous pink underwear atop his head.

"what?" jihoon gasps. he clearly remembers placing the underwear at the very back of his closet so no one would see it. how on earth did his son find it?

the answer comes in the form of a mischievously smirking jeonghan and joshua who emerge from your bedroom a few seconds later, fist-bumping each other.

yeah, jihoon has a bad headache now.

seokmin:

"lovie, have you seen my dodgers jersey?" seokmin asks, popping his head into the bathroom, where you were currently finishing up your skincare routine.

"it should be in your closet," you reply, applying sunscreen on your face.

"but it isn't," seokmin pouts, and that alarms you.

seokmin's doders jersey is one of his most prized possessions. he's even joked about being buried with it when he dies so he can continue being a fan in the afterlife. (you don't really encourage those jokes.)

if it isn't in his closet, where else would it be?

"i'll help you look for it," you offer, and the both of you nearly empty out your entire wardrobe to find the jersey, but it was nowhere to be seen.

"it's okay, we're getting late," seokmin smiles. "the guys will kill us if we're late. i'll just wear something else."

and with that, seokmin changes into another outfit, and you wonder how he's always so easy-going. if you weren't able to find your favorite shirt, you'd sulk about it till the time you found it.

the jersey is forgotten a while later. you busy yourself with packing a baby bag for your toddler, and seokmin had rushed to the convenience store when he realized that they hadn't bought any ice-cream.

you're grabbing some extra clothes for your daughter, when you realize that the house has been awfully quiet.

where's your daughter?

you call out her name, but there isn't any response that follows, and it gets you worried.

you look around the house just to be sure your daughter isn't playing hide-and-seek with you again. (she hid from you the entire day once. anything was possible.)

finally, you think of going out to the backyard to check if your daughter was there, and surprisingly, you're met with a crying seokmin.

"wha- when did you let yourself in? why are you crying, lovie?" you ask, and he sniffles.

"i forgot the keys, and i thought you'd be busy, so i let myself in through the back door, and then, i saw...."

his voice trails off, and he gestures behind him. your daughter is clad in his precious dodgers jersey, and the previously white material is stained with mud and dirt from rolling around on the floor.

"oh my god, seok," you gasp, thinking your husband was crying because his jersey was ruined, but you're even more surprised when he stops you from going over to your daughter to take the jersey away.

"i'm not sad," he explains, and you wipe his tears away. "i'm just- i'm just really happy. i asked her why she was wearing the jersey, and she said-"

"if daddy likes, then i like!" your daughter's cheery voice cuts in.

"you wore the jersey because daddy likes it?" you ask, endeared by your daughter's antics.

"mhm! daddy loves the jersey, and daddy loves me, so i wore it to make him extra happy and smiley!" your daughter grins, her eyes crinkling just like her father's, and you hear seokmin cry even louder.

"baby, i got so scared when i saw you crying," you whine, playfully hitting his arm, but then pulling him in for a hug anyways.

"i'm sorry, i couldn't contain the tears," seokmin chuckles wetly. the moment is interrupted by a phone call from seungcheol, who says that if your family doesn't arrive in the next 30 minutes, all the food was going to be finished.

(on the drive to the picnic, you tap seokmin's shoulder to catch his attention. "thank you, for teaching our daughter how to love. she's this way because she learned from the best."

seokmin can only smile back at you, and none of you talk about how tears well up in his eyes again.)

mingyu:

it was a friday evening, and mingyu decided that his tried-and-tested, well-loved kimchi jjigae would be the perfect dinner. he grabs the ingredients and utensils and gets to work right away.

while you were finishing up some work, you were greeted by the comforting aroma of mingyu's cooking. unable to help yourself, you quickly go over to the kitchen, and your heart is filled with warmth at the sight of mingyu, tall mingyu, hunched over the too-low stove, making dinner for your family of three.

"what's cookin', good-lookin'?" you say, sneaking up behind mingyu, effectively startling your husband, who jumps up in the air with a squeal.

"shit, baby, you gave me a heart-attack," mingyu whines, pretending to be upset but still leaning down to kiss you sweetly.

"and a stained white t-shirt," you giggle, and mingyu stares at the white tank top he was wearing, with a large stain forming on it. the stew must have spilled on him when he got startled, and the thought of having to remove the stain made him groan.

"wait, where's my apron?" he questions. being a clumsy person by nature, mingyu has perfected some fool-proof techniques for himself so that he can reduce the number of disasters he creates on a daily basis. one of these techniques was to always wear an apron while cooking so that nothing splatter onto his clothes.

"isn't it here?" you ask, walking over to a cabinet where his apron is usually kept, but the spot was empty.

"that's strange," mingyu mumbles. "maybe i put it in the laundry accidentally. i'll check later."

none of you notice the blue-checkered apron stashed in a corner of your son's bedroom later that night, when you tuck him into bed.

a week goes by, and both mingyu and you forget about the missing apron, till mingyu is spilling marinara sauce on his favorite sweater.

"we'll just buy a new one," mingyu sighs when another extensive search of the kitchen had still not helped you find a new apron.

being workaholics, and chronically bad at remembering things, mingyu and you somehow forgot to buy a new apron. in fact, the thought doesn't strike him till the next week, when everyone was gathered in seungcheol's backyard for a barbecue party.

"shit, i don't have an apron," mingyu groans, having realized the lack of an apron just as he was about to start grilling the meat.

before seungcheol can give mingyu a spare, your son is rushing towards you, mingyu's missing apron tied around his waist, and the ends clutched in his tiny fists to avoid tripping on the too-long fabric for his too-small body.

"dada! i'm cooking today!"

your boy even grabs one of the kiddie plastic forks and spoons, standing next to mingyu at the grill, the apron hanging off his tiny frame, and a makeshift chef hat (a plastic bag) atop his head.

"okay, you can be my sous-chef," mingyu grins, looking at your son with love and affection in his eyes.

(your son only helps mingyu sprinkle salt over some of the pieces of meat he was grilling, but the unbridled giggles escaping him made the memory more precious.)

minghao:

"i'm bored." you announce, plopping next to your husband on the couch, snuggling up against him.

"what, you want me to dance or something?" minghao replies, looking at you with an amused grin.

"wonwoo did tell me you could bust a few moves back in the day," you tease, and minghao rolls his eyes.

"those moves were meant to be left in those days, cutie," he smiles, booping your nose. "anything else i can do to entertain you?"

you hum, contemplating what your answer should be, when you finally find the best answer.

"you should do a tea ceremony!" you suggest. "i always feel so relaxed watching you do it."

minghao gapes at you, his eyes widening. "i thought the exact same thing! i'll get the tea set, can you grab all the ingredients and utensils?"

"on it, boss," you salute, making your husband laugh at your playful demeanour, before he heads into the bedroom to retrieve his tea set.

the set was very precious to him; his grandmother had handcrafted each cup, saucer, and teapot with utmost care. she had even hand-painted each utensil, and minghao cherished the set a lot.

to his surprise, when he looks for the tea set in the dresser, where it is always stored, it's missing.

"darling, can you come in here for a sec?" minghao calls out for you, making you leave the ingredients on the kitchen counter and rushing into your bedroom at the urgency of his tone.

"where's my tea set?"

"in the dresser," you answer.

"it isn't there now," minghao frowns, and when you come closer to check, you notice the missing box.

"ah, maybe i put it somewhere else?" you mumble. "i was clearing out the dresser a few days back, and i remember taking the set out to put it somewhere else. it was too heavy for the dresser, and i didn't want to risk breaking it."

"do you remember where you put it?" minghao asks, calm and composed. he was a little antsy at first, but he trusts you with keeping his belongings safe.

"maybe in the kitchen?" you sigh, not being able to recollect. "let's go look there."

minghao follows you to the kitchen, and you both open up various cabinets and drawers, but the tea set wasn't in any of them.

just at the moment, your daughter walks into the room, confidently striding up to the fridge, opening it and grabbing a carton of orange juice.

"hi sweetie, do you want me to pour you some?" minghao asks your daughter, but she shakes her head.

"the juice isn't for me," she explains. "it's for the tea party."

"tea party?" you and minghao ask in unison, and your daughter smiles.

"come join us!"

she leads the both of you into her room, and the black box you'd been trying to find all this time is on the floor of your daughter's bedroom.

but that wasn't the end of it. your daughter had made four of her favorite dolls sit upright on plastic chairs, one left empty for her, and placed them around the small table she had in her room. and surely enough, minghao's tea set was placed on the table, with each chair having a cup placed in front of it, and the teapot in the middle.

in moments like these, with minghao's fragile tea set involved, you were glad that your daughter was responsible and careful with handling precious things, just like her father.

"do you guys want a cup too?" your daughter offers, and, is 'no' ever an answer?

(the tea set only had 6 cups, and with the last cup being handed over to you, minghao had to resort to sipping lukewarm orange juice out of his daughter's purple unicorn mug. he'd never felt happier.)

seungkwan:

making your two sons watch a horror movie, late at night, probably wasn't seungkwan's best decision as a father. but when they shot him with the puppy eyes, he couldn't help but give in.

so now, you have two seven year-olds, clutching onto you for dear life while 'monster house' plays on the TV.

"momma! make the house stop!" one son shrieks, trying to hide his entire body behind you, while your other son grips onto seungkwan's arm tightly, as if scared of being sucked into the TV and joining the kids in the movie.

"okay. that's enough," you decide, reaching for the remote and pausing the movie. "this is why we have a zero tolerance policy for horror movies in this house, seungkwan."

"i'm sorry, baby," seungkwan pouts. "they looked so-"

"i know. i get it," you sigh, you yourself having given into many of their ridiculous demands only because of how wide and watery their eyes would get.

your kids really need to stop spending time with mingyu and seokmin.

"off to bed, both of you," you instruct your boys, and they waste no time, scurrying out of the living room as quickly as possible.

"should i go check if they're okay?" seungkwan asks, feeling guilty.

"they'll be fine," you insist. your boys would have been screaming their heads off by now if anything scared them even the slightest bit.

"how about we finish the movie? i'm kinda curious to see how it ends," you suggest, and seungkwan agrees.

at some point during the movie, you must have dozed off, because when you open your eyes, you find yourself in your bedroom with the sunlight peeking in through the curtains.

and you discern the cause behind your disrupted sleep.

"babe, have you seen my badminton racquets?" seungkwan whispers gently, hovering above you.

"mm, not in the storage room?" you croak out, rubbing your eyes.

"nope, i already checked, and- wait, don't fall asleep!" seungkwan whines when you cover yourself with the blankets and turn to your side to sleep again.

"it's saturday, just sleep in kwan," you groan.

"but i told jeonghan i'd play badminton with him today," seungkwan frowns.

"alright, no morning cuddles for you then," you huff, feigning annoyance.

"i guess jeonghan wouldn't mind if i don't show up," seungkwan mumbles, and you smile triumphantly as your husband joins you in bed, holding you close.

the next time you wake up, you scream.

"what happened?" seungkwan gasps, immediately waking up as well. his panic dies down as soon as he sees the sight that made you scream.

both your sons holding seungkwan's missing badminton racquets, standing at the foot of the bed. their faces were covered by ski masks, and they stared at you both, racquets ready to attack.

("boys, we aren't ghosts," you try again. your boys still aren't very convinced. they've held seungkwan and you hostage in your bedroom for an hour under the pretext of protecting themselves from 'ghosts.'

"if we're ghosts, then i guess you won't get pancakes for breakfast," your husband declares, and your boys are immediately pouncing upon you two, apologizing for thinking you were ghosts and begging you to make them pancakes.

that day you make seungkwan promise that he won't let the boys near horror movies till they're eighteen.)

hansol:

winters always got freezing cold, and you insisted that everyone in the house must have at least one woollen on, even if they're just at home. the rule was made mainly because hansol tended to run a little cold, and you had to make sure that he was bundled up in warm clothes and socks at all times.

naturally, you're surprised when you find hansol on the couch, shivering even though he's wearing a thick jumper with a hoodie on top.

"honey, what's wrong?" you frown, immediately pulling your husband into a tight hug, hoping to warm him up.

"my warm socks, i can't find them," he complains. "they've been missing for, like, a week."

"but i remember washing them last week and putting them in your dresser," you say, clearly remembering when you had put the socks along with your other laundry.

"i'll buy some later," hansol sighs, cuddling into you for more warmth. at that moment, your daughter and son run into the living room, their hands hidden behind their backs.

"mom! dad! do you wanna see something fun?" your son asks enthusiastically, and you both nod at your children.

"okay, close your eyes, and be prepared to see a beautiful princess and a dragon!" your daughter instructs. both hansol and you share an amused glance before shutting your eyes, anticipating what your children have prepared.

you hear them whisper softly, and after a couple of minutes, they tell you to open your eyes.

your children have ducked behind the table, their bodies hidden, but their arms raise upwards.

and on their arms were puppets, made with...

... hansol's socks?

your children had drawn various faces and clothes onto the socks, and they confidently started their puppet show, narrating some version of a fairytale in which a dragon is locked in a tower, and the princess comes riding in on a horse and saves the dragon.

you look down at your husband, who is thoroughly enjoying the puppet show, his laugh reverberating in the living room, which only spurs your children on to making more exaggerated motions and voices as they narrate the story.

(in the end, you give hansol some of your own pink woollen socks, and the sight of him walking around the whole house with baby pink socks is surely a memory you'll remember for a long time.)

chan:

"mm, you need to shave," you groan when chan playfully nuzzles into the crook of your neck, his stubble grazing your skin.

"you're just like the others," chan pouts.

"well, the others are right," you smile. "plus, i happen to like my husband beard-less."

"whatever you wish, is my command," chan sighs dramatically, rolling out of bed to head into the bathroom.

"don't forget to use your electric razor!" you laugh, and he groans in response.

"neither my wife nor my friends will ever let me live in peace," chan laments, walking into the bathroom. he fetches his razor, which had been kept in a box on a high shelf so that their daughter wouldn't be able to reach it, but for some strange reason, the shaving foam wasn't there next to it.

"babe, did you keep my shaving foam somewhere?" chan calls out.

"it's always in the bathroom," you answer. "i have no use for it anyways."

chan sighs, looking in different cabinets to locate the shaving foam, but it had gone missing.

just then, your daughter walks into the room, banging a spoon on a plastic lid.

"breakfast is ready!"

after making her announcement, she scurries out of the room. chan and you are quick to follow, wondering if your daughter had messed up the kitchen.

surprisingly, she takes you to her bedroom, where there's a few plastic lids filled with something, and...

"my shaving foam!" chan points out, locating the can on his daughter's dresser.

"no! whipped cream! for pancake!" your daughter retorts, pointing to the plastic lids on her bed.

she had made purple-colored pancakes with clay (the other colors had gone missing) and they were topped off with chan's shaving foam.

"yum yum!"

chan and you burst into laughter at the same time.

(later, you make some real and edible pancakes, which your daughter and husband finish up quickly. they even fight over the last pancake.

amidst the chaos of the fight, they don't notice you quietly finishing up the last pancake too.)

- fin.

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[martian-astro10]

D9/ Navamsa chart observations - Part 6

Moon in 10th gives you a sassy (in a good way) father in law. Also, your spouse can be the best in their field. After marriage, you can be closer to your partner's family than your own. If you don't have a good relationship with your parents, then your partner's family will fill that void. (I know a gay guy with this placement and his husband was disowned by his family when he came out but my friend's family treat him as their own son. They have a really sweet relationship. I love this placement)

Rahu will either take away everything or give the best results related to the things of the house it's in. It really depends on it's dispositor. For ex- if rahu is in 5th, it can either give you a partner who is intelligent, creative, energetic, has a lot of hobbies, or it can give you a partner who drinks a lot, parties a lot, sleeps around, etc. it can also either give you a lot of kids or none at all.

Mercury in 9th gives you an intelligent spouse, they can also be a multilingual person. If you're a woman then your partner can have a little, teeny tiny tendency to mansplain, it's honestly like, they're so proud of their knowledge that they just wanna show how much they know, it can be a little annoying sometimes but nothing too serious. (I know a guy with this and his wife is so cute, she looks like a child every time she talks about her interests, you can tell how much she enjoys sharing her experiences and knowledge, it's kinda cute actually)

Venus in 7th is that placement that completely changes you after marriage, especially your fashion sense. it's because it aspects your 1st house, so definitely a huge change in personality, you can also get a glow up after marriage. Also, it can give a rich partner, kinda like a crazy rich Asians type situation. (I know a girl with this placement and she was so innocent before marriage, she wouldn't even wear revealing clothes and stuff but then after marriage, her mother in law basically threw out all her old clothes and got her new ones, I met her recently and BRO, she looked so different, so beautiful and she was wearing clothes that actually suit her body type and skin color. Also her mother in law is COOL AS FUCK, every time I look at her, I'm like, yeah, this is who I aspire to be like in the future) last point, you'll have a very loving marriage

Jupiter in 2nd is THAT placement. so many celebrities who are married to rich business men have this. I feel like this is one of the placements that just makes you very materialistic, like money is very important for you all, so you should marry someone who is just as materialistic. (I know people with this placement who don't get lonely or offended even when their spouses are workaholics, both you and your spouse think that money should take priority over any other matter) I'll be honest, your married life can be a little dry, but not if Jupiter is in a good sign

Sun in 9th is OFC another good placement. I haven't really seen this mentioned anywhere but this is like THE foreign spouse placement. all the people I know who have this, married someone who was not from their country. You'll also travel a lot after marriage. It gives you a really charming partner, like they can charm the pants off you. Also, the sexual tension is HIGH, Especially if sun is in Aries. There's also a high chance that you're an introvert but your spouse is not, so they can help you get out of your comfort zone

Saturn in 3rd can be such a calm and mature placement, it's like, you know how many men don't talk about the problems they face in a relationship, and then they start acting shitty and wait for the woman to break up. With this placement you get a responsible partner, someone who is willing to talk and meet halfway but you have got to match their energy yk. if you have a weak Mercury in d1, then this placement is not nice, cuz your communication skills are shit and they are TOO mature, so the moment you play games with them, they'll leave you. So work on yourself, is what I would say.

For ketu also, if the dispositor is well placed then you achieve balance in that area, but if not, then you feel detached. ( I know 2 people with ketu in 7th, one is so against marriage and she has extremely high standards, which tbh, are not even practical but the other one has high achievable standards. The funny thing is that the first one has always dated guys who were not good to her and the other has had zero dating experience cuz she's waiting for the right guy. So the detachment sometimes refers to "wrong attachment".

You all are not gonna like this but Jupiter in 7th is one of the STRONGEST indicators of getting married a lot of times. Jupiter in 1st as well, it's not that strong but chances are high. (Halley berrey, Jennifer Lopez, angelina jolie and Scarlett Johansson have it)

To end it on a good note, if you have mars in 5th, just know I'm jealous of you, cuz if there's one thing that you're not gonna lack in your marriage, it's sex. You guys will be those parents who kiss each other even you've been married for 35 years, you do that and then your kids go "ewww, you guys are so cringy" and run away. (Just make sure that mars is not conjunct or aspected by Saturn or rahu, Saturn gives no sex, rahu gives painful sex)

© martian-astro All rights reserved, 2024

[jasongracesenthusiast]

PRINCESS OF THE GODS !

PARING(s), percy jackson x daughter of HERA reader

WARNING(s), basically just marriage

AUTHOR’S NOTE, yeah i listened to juno while doing this, what about it

౨ৎ percy met you a little while after he arrived at camp. you were the only demigod child of hera, the queen of the gods. he was surprised at the thought that zeus would even allow you to live, but in fairness, he wasn’t dead yet either

౨ৎ you two didn’t actually consider yourselves friends until after ttc, when you were kidnapped (yes you’re taking annie’s place IM SORRYYY)

౨ৎ after the events of all that, percy found himself…drifting towards you, in a way

౨ৎ like, before everything happened, even if you weren’t necessarily friends, he did know you, like your existence mattered so much to him, he just didn’t know why at the time

౨ৎ but you, on the other hand, somehow did

౨ৎ when you were saved by percy and friends, you were very optimistic that it was him saving you and not somebody else, cause that just wouldn’t be as fun

౨ৎ anyways from the moment you met him, you were like “oh yeah that’s my future boyfriend right there”

౨ৎ and yeah calm down just a little bit, but you also just knew, and you thanked your mother everyday for giving you this knowledge

౨ৎ but you were also pissed because holy shit, it took percy a while to come to terms with how he felt about you, even after saving you and becoming friends

౨ৎ but when i tell you how many times you made a move until he realized

౨ৎ you were very clear about your feelings, like you genuinely had nothing to hide

౨ৎ percy was extremely confused about the fact that you never dated anybody at all

౨ৎ and loads of people at camp clearly find you attractive and percy does, too, so when you were like “oh yeah i’ve never had a boyfriend before” he was as shocked as possible

౨ৎ because like, it’s you

౨ৎ and you’d think that would make it click that he had feelings for you

౨ৎ unfortunately. it did the opposite.

౨ৎ and that was kind of your last straw. you literally sat him down and explained your feelings to him and how you liked him ever since he saved you

౨ৎ THAT’S when he fully realized it

౨ৎ and it’s not cause he’s stupid (mischaracterized percy jackson they could never make me like you), it’s because it’s YOU. the pretty daughter of hera who a lot of people crushed on

౨ৎ you were practically a princess and percy took that so seriously, he found it so hard to believe that you liked him

౨ৎ after insisting that you really did like him, yippie that’s when y’all started dating !!

౨ৎ and when i tell you how much of a power couple you are. you two just radiate that kind of energy, even if someone didn’t know you were together

౨ৎ like you didn’t even need to tell anyone, everybody just. knew, and percy was stunned and he was like, they knew??? did you tell everyone???

౨ৎ and you were like no that’s just the power couple energy

౨ৎ when i tell you he worships the very ground you walk on I FUCKING MEAN IT. you know that one thing where a girl is singing on stage and her boyfriend is sobbing? that’s you two

౨ৎ if i or anyone else had to describe your relationship, it would be that

౨ৎ since your mother is the goddess of marriage, you were very clear about the fact that percy was the man you were to marry, and everybody just like. accepted it

౨ৎ even people who had current or previous crushes on you accepted that, mostly because you often referred to him as your husband like it was a regular thing

౨ৎ percy lets you do it every time and never corrects you, even calling you his wife sometimes.

౨ৎ listen you had your entire future with him planned. from the proposal (if he didn’t do it by age 22, you fucking would), to the wedding, to having kids, all that. he knew he could not stop you like he knew you were prepared

౨ৎ but percy still loved every minute of it, because the thought of marrying you, the love of his life, was just astonishing. he loves you just as much as he loves the thought of making you his wife, because it was you he would be marrying.

[luveline]

i know you said hotch and reader baby requests… but what about hotch’s daughter that he met as an adult meeting Jack for the first time? two babies in one! love you 💕

—You meet your little brother, with your dad’s support. fem, 1.6k

To grow up wondering if your father might love you is odd. You spend years wondering if you’d ever know him. Would he be proud of you? Would he like you? If you could find him, would he want you to? 

And then you do find him, and you’re floored by how desperately he wants to take care of you. 

Honey, his message starts, sent at 5AM that morning. Just to remind you, dinner is at 5PM, but you don’t have to worry about being late. You can come whatever time you like, please let me know beforehand. Jack was so excited last night he couldn’t sleep.

Another sent at 5:16AM. I can’t wait for you to meet him. How are you feeling about it? If this is too much, you don’t have to. 

At 5:25AM. Please call me to talk when you’re awake, if you can. 

You think perhaps your father might be as nervous as you are to introduce you to his family. Because Aaron, your dad, has a wife and child. Haley, his high school sweetheart (though there had been that brief separation in college that allowed your existence), and Jack, his four year old son. 

This might be hard for everyone, but at least you aren’t destroying a family by existing. Aaron didn’t do anything wrong in getting your mother pregnant. He had no idea about it until you showed up at his office. 

You rub your tired eyes and decide against calling him right away. You have work soon, and he’s probably at his own place of work already. Instead, you make yourself a cup of tea and breakfast you can’t eat. Turns out you’re more nervous than you thought. 

You call him on your lunch break. 

He said you can call him whenever you want, just he’s busy, and can’t always answer. He also said you can call him whatever you want. It had been a strangely touching moment at one of your ‘catching up on a whole life’ dinners. Mr. Hotchner was extremely formal, and made him laugh every time you said it. Aaron was better, but you could call him dad, if you liked. The paternity test agreed. 

“Will that be weird for you?” you’d asked. 

“Honey, I’ve had someone calling me dad for the last four years. You can call me what you want.” 

Some part of you wished he insisted, but maybe it’s best the choice be down to you. 

“Hello?” he asks as he picks up. “Y/N?” 

The will to call him dad dies. It’s too awkward, what if he hates it? “Hello,” you say instead, stammering trying to sound natural. 

“Hi, honey. Are you still coming to dinner tonight?” 

“Yeah, I wouldn’t miss it.” 

After an investigation and a mother’s confession, you found Aaron Hotchner online. Watched him behind podiums and sat at conference tables, even found his guest lecture at your university. It was a few years before you’d attended, but you can’t help thinking: what if you’d watched him talk? Would you have known he was your father? Of course, you couldn’t know. But maybe he would have. 

Aaron took one good look at you in his office and believed you. Well, you had a photo of him and your mom, and you offered to take a paternity test then and there, but he told you he knew pretty quickly.

“You okay?” 

“Just terrified,” you say. 

“Haley… Haley isn’t mad at anyone. She has,” —he clears his throat— “a very tight picture of her life in her head, and her husband having a child without her wasn’t in that picture, but she also has a really big heart. I promise you have nothing to worry about.” 

“It’s not Haley I’m scared of.” 

“Honey, Jack can’t stop telling people he has a new sister. People keep giving Haley congratulations.” 

You rub your eyes. You’ll be surprised if your makeup survives the day. “Are you sure you even want me to come?” 

“I want you more than anything.” 

Which doesn’t answer the question you’d voiced, but reassures the one you’d been thinking. “I just wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want me to. I can’t imagine how terrible this has been for you. I’ve disrupted your whole life.” 

“Is that what you think?” he asks gently. 

You can imagine him sitting at his desk. His office was roomy, with heavy furniture, big windows, and a gaggle of photo frames on the desk. He is intimidating, but he doesn’t talk to you with any meanness, or sternness. He’s been careful with you this whole time, so no, you’ve no reason to think he doesn’t want you around, but maybe he’s too good a man to admit it. 

“If it’s too much for now, we can wait,” he says. “We have all the time in the world. But I promise it won’t be what you’re thinking. You certainly aren’t disrupting my life.” 

You decide to be brave about it and go to dinner. Only when you’re standing on the Hotchner porch do you remember he’d wanted to talk to you about something. He opens the door quietly, ushering you in with a smile, and before you know it he’s offering a hug in the small foyer. 

“Hi,” he says, patting your back. Your hands rest tentatively on his sides. 

“Hi.” 

He holds you at arm’s length before dropping his touch. “You look pretty,” he says. 

Which is a whole other category of thing. “Thank you. Is this the sort of thing you wear to dinner?” 

“You can wear pyjamas, if you like. Jack usually does.”

“That would make a good first impression.” 

Haley appears from a doorway. “Oh, you’re here,” she says, smiling. “Hello, hello!” 

You get another hug. Haley smells like expensive perfume and softness. Her hair is perfect. She’s one of the most beautiful women you’ve ever seen, and it’s emphasised by her glowing smile. “Jack is bouncing off the walls, but he might get a little shy when he really gets to meet you.” Her smile softens. “Wow. You don’t look much like him, but you have his frown. How’s that possible?” She nudges Aaron. “You’re so moody it’s in your DNA.” 

“I’m sorry, I’m just nervous,” you explain. 

“Me too,” Haley says. 

“It’ll be okay.” Aaron gives Haley a squeeze around the shoulders. “He’s in the living room. Are you ready?” 

“Maybe she should go in by herself.” 

You and Aaron both stare at Haley. 

“I should?” you ask. 

She shrugs. “It’s not like we’re going anywhere. But maybe Aaron can introduce you and then bow out. It’s less pressure on both of you.” 

You honestly couldn’t agree less with her, and Aaron’s giving her a dubious frown, but she’s Jack’s mom and your dad’s wife and you’re too scared of upsetting her to disagree. 

Aaron, however, isn’t worried. “You don’t have to,” he says, giving Haley a rub on her shoulder, “it’s just a suggestion.” 

“It’s okay. Um, whatever you guys think is best.” 

So Aaron opens the living room door and walks you in. 

Jack is drawing a bright picture on the floor, surrounded by a spread of crayons and washable markers. He has a huge sketch pad, where light from the TV stains the white with cartoon colours.

“Jack.” Aaron touches the back of your arm. “Bud, Y/N’s here for dinner.” 

Jack whirls. As predicted, he sees you and his smile turns to shyness. You’re feeling shy, too, tempted to hide behind Aaron’s arm, but stepping forward when he prompts you to. 

“Hi, Jack,” you say. 

“Hi,” he says, lookin at Aaron. 

“This is your big sister,” Aaron says. 

Because Jack is your little brother. Half brother, but brother. You weren’t expecting to feel so awed. 

You step out of your heels, you should’ve at the door, and use the armrest of the couch to lower yourself onto your knees. You just wanna see him. 

He’s quite big, for his age. He’s tall. He has brown hair with slightly blond ends, and his eyes are big, flush with dark lashes. You have some of the same DNA, but you’re not sure you could tell with the two of you side by side. 

“You look like your mommy,” you say. 

“You don’t,” Jack says. 

“I look more like my mommy.” You smile at him. “It’s nice to meet you, Jack.” 

“You don’t look like a sister,” Jack says. “You’re old.” 

“I’m not that old.” 

Aaron laughs and touches your shoulder again. It’s nice to think he’s standing by. 

“I… I can still do big sister stuff, even if I’m old,” you hedge gently. “I can still do fun stuff, I swear. I’m super fun.” 

Jack pulls himself on knees to sit very close to you. He takes the skirt of your dress into his hand and pets it. “What if we ruin your dress?” he says worriedly. 

“I have so many like this, it’s okay.” 

His smile warms. “Okay. You want to colour with me?” 

“Yes, yeah, I do. I really want to, what can we colour?” 

“I’ll draw you a picture.” 

You look up at Aaron with a smile that threatens to set with the wind. You’d be stuck like that, grinning with a mixture of relief, pride, and affection. 

“I’m gonna go help Haley set the table,” he tells you. You’re probably wanting more than he’s giving, but you swear, he talks with love. “Okay?” 

“Okay.” 

“Okay, dad,” Jack says, taking your hand to pull you to the crayons. “We’re gonna colour now.” 

“Okay, buddy. Draw me something nice.”