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#our quiet world au
kiankiwi · 10 months
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Ollie's Sick Day: An Our Quiet World Piece
Summary: Ollie, YN and Austin's first son gets sick while at school and has to come home early and Gracie is the best little sister to her big bubba
@austinbutlersbaby
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It all started with a phone call from Ollie's school during naptime. You knew something was up because Ollie struggles at school every now and then because it was public school and he didn't quite fit in but you hadn't expected a call so far into his school day.
Turns out he had puked in class and needed someone to come get him and keep him home until he felt better. The school nurse had asked Ollie if he 'wanted to talk to mommy' and when he finally talked to you poor little guy started crying and sounded miserable.
"Okay baby, I'll be there in ten minutes okay? Just lay down and try to rest and I'll come get you. No, Gracie's gonna stay home with daddy okay? It'll just be me, is that okay? Alright I'll see you soon bubba."
Everything okay? Austin signed as he sat at the kitchen table waiting for Gracie to get up.
No you signed back, Ollie's sick And with that you turned and started getting ready to go get your bubba.
Not even ten minutes later, you walked into the nurses office to see your little boy curled up in a ball on a cot and whimpering with a trashcan sat near his head. You almost spoke before you noticed his hearing aids were sat on the nurses desk so you flick the lights on and off so Ollie notices you.
Hi baby, you okay? You sign. It's obvious your poor baby is too tired to sign and make his hands make words so he slowly gets up and puts his ears in so he can just hear you instead.
Making sure his ears are turned on, Ollie sits back down on the cot and reaches for you, his bottom lip wobbling. You come and hold his hand. "Hi bubba, what happened, you got sick?" Ollie nods, starting to cry. "Mamaaaaa!" He whines. "I know, I'm so sorry baby. We'll get you home okay and we can nap and cuddle okay?" Ollie nodded, hugging onto us. You kissed his head and ran a hand through his hair. "Do you want me to carry you or do you wanna walk?"
Ollie didn't even answer all he did was raise his arms up, silently asking to be picked up. "Alright baby, and we have some of daddy's puke bags in the car just in case, okay?" Ollie nodded and put his head on your shoulder. You couldn't help but coo at your baby and rub his back. "Alright let's go bubba." You hated when your children were sick.
Thankfully you two got home without any more puke messes. You brought Ollie in and noticed Austin was helping your youngest put her shoes on. The toddler really wanted to say hello to her big brother but Ollie just did not want to be bothered.
"Tell mama where we're going, Gracie?!" Austin excitedly asked your daughter. "To the park, mama! Ollie you come too?" Gracie asked excitedly, bouncing on her toes. Ollie shook his head and clung tighter to your shirt. "No baby, Ollie doesn't feel too good, he needs to go up and rest okay? But you and daddy go have fun okay?" Gracie pouted for a minute but then remembered then she'd have one on one time with her daddy. "Okay, next time, Ollie!"
"Yeah, next time." Ollie murmured as you brought him upstairs. "Alright bubba, let's get you nice and cozy okay." Ollie crawls very carefully onto his bed and waits while we look through his pajamas. The next thing you know you hear an unmistakable gag. You rush toward Ollie and hold out your hand under his chin waiting to catch the puke. Just another one of of the gross duties of motherhood you suppose.
As he begins to vomit you know you need Austin's help. Please have your ears on you beg in your head as you call out to your husband "Austin, help! Austin! We need a puke bowl!"
Thankfully Austin rushes in minutes later offering the family puke bowl to your son.
We hold our hand out and go wash it up while Austin sits with him patting his back. "You're okay, bud, good job. Almost done, you're okay." Usually Austin is so afraid of vomit, has emetephobia but he sets it aside for you, Graice and Ollie. But when he himself is sick, his anxiety is sky high so he knows how Ollie feels.
"Daddy, so icky!" Ollie cries a few minutes later, clinging to his daddy's shirt as he cries. Austin kisses your sons blonde curls and rubs his back. "I know bud, I know you feel so bad but you'll feel better so soon. Sissy and I are gonna go to the park so you can rest and mama will stay with you and give you tons of cuddles, is that okay?"
Ollie looked between the two of you as you sat back on his bed and eventually nodded. Ollie laid down and got cozy with his puke bowl while Austin stood up and gave us a hug. "Bye, love. I'll have my phone on text me if bubba needs anything?" You nodded, giving your husband a gentle peck on the lips. "I will. Maybe get him a little action figure to cheer him up when he feels better?" Austin nodded, smiling. "Good idea," Austin smiled at your son, waiting by his door. "Alright bubba we're off. Feel better okay? I love you honey." Ollie just quietly burrowed into his blankets
Two hours later, after running around playing on the playground for a while to give Ollie some peace and quiet, Austin and Gracie made a stop at the pharmacy to grab supplies.
"First up is some medicine!" Austin said, looking through the aisles. Gracie scrunched her nose and whispered, "Yucky dada." Austin chuckled. "Yeah, I know but it'll make him feel better faster so he can play more."
As the two of them walked around the store, Gracie spotted the toys aisle. "Daddy, daddy, we should get bubby a new stuffie for him to cuddle while he doesn't feel good!" Gracie pulled her dad down the aisle excitedly. "That's a great idea, Gracie-bug! Which one should we get? I' gonna grab him an action figure."
"We should get him this one daddy." Gracie showed her dad a pink bear with red hearts all over it. "And since it's pink, he'll know it was from me." Austin cooed at the cuteness of his daughter. "Aww sissy, that's so sweet. Alright one more thing, we need a card. Do you want to pick one out?" Gracie nodded, happy to help.
Thirty minutes later, Austin took Gracie down the hall to her big brother's room. "Wait Gracie, let me check he's awake okay?" Austin poked his head in and saw Ollie was still awake watching cartoons cuddling up to you. You waved quietly. "Look who's back baby." You whispered, pointing to your husband. "Hi daddy.." Austin smiled. "Up for visitors bub? Your sissy wants to give you a present?" Ollie nodded.
Austin let Gracie run in and sat on his bed proudly showing him the gifts she picked out. "This for you, bubba! Hope you feel better!"
Seeing the bear and new action figure, Ollie smiled for the first time all day. "Thank you Gracie!" Ollie said quietly, giving his sister a lose hug.
*
There we go, the new AU's first sickfic! Woo!
I hope you guys like this new AU, if you ever want to talk about it, my inbox is always open if you want to chat <3 :)
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sing-me-under · 8 months
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Take the idea that “Bruce Wayne is friends with most of his Rogue Gallery”
and shift it into “Batman doesn’t kill because he believes in second chances”
and then you get something along the lines of “Even when everyone believes they are irredeemable, Bruce personally knows his Rogue Gallery and genuinely cares about them and their well-being, so he’s willing to give the benefit of the doubt and second chances to even the worst of the worst because he can’t be biased and believe the best only of the people he is friends with. Everyone has the potential to do better and do good and be kind even when it’s not obvious because Bruce personally knows the Rogues that have that potential.”
And also “Bruce’s goal later in his career isn’t to pursue revenge but to prevent crime and save as many people as possible, including his rogues. He can’t reverse the damage and the lives taken, but he can try to make things as livable as possible. Batman is a symbol of fear, a deterrent of crime, and a front-line first responder, but Bruce Wayne is the one actively helping Gotham.”
But I also raise you “Gotham is legitimately cursed” and “Joker is the only Rogue who Batman doesn’t know the real identity of. Batman is partly convinced that Joker isn’t even a real person but the physical manifestation of a curse that will forever plague Gotham”
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byakugoseal · 1 year
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tag dump: broken & updated tags part i
#morgs tag dump#✖main verse║war-torn child you were made to hold brawls between your knuckles & bury old friends & old memories beween your ribs#✖one piece verse║on days when the sky is painted grey i feel like there’s nothing worth forgiving#✖kny verse║from a tender age i was cursed with rage came swinging like a fist inside a batting cage#✖fairy tail verse║plunge the knife; bare my soul; scrape my ribs;#✖anbu verse║& death is the only god who comes when you call#✖pre-canon verse║you know better than anyone how to cry in silence for things gone by#✖genin verse║she went from porcelain to iron to steel#✖shippuden verse║the sun has been extinguished & the moon has fallen / there goes the light of our turbulent world#✖gaiden verse║& you keep telling yourself / there is no smell of war in me / but why else would this feel like madness#✖hokage!au verse║there will come a time when you might have to decide who lives & dies out there it’s a terrible responsibility#✖bleach verse║fear is what beats inside your heart in the place where life used to be#✖modern verse║life is a series of moments you wish your ribs could take back#✖bnha verse║i carry a body full of secrets & my bones align the universe within me#✖shipping call║well i won't die for love but ever since i met you you could have my heart and I would break it for you#✖mains call║i’d be lying if i said losing you was something i could handle#✖exclusives call║could we remain quiet on earth & bear it the war we make inside#✖inbox call║she screams for heaven’s help but heaven has always been deaf#✖starter call║tell it anyways for little words can sometimes mean life or death#✖plotting call║i’ve got to learn something from my mistakes instead of establishing a new record to break#✖affiliates call║peach blossom has a colour that does not ask my sins#✖ask memes║when the local language is violence be fluent
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sugurufic · 2 months
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I'm trying to get husbanded-up! (Nanami x F!Reader)
Word Count: 0.5k
Summary: In which you try the trend of addressing your boyfriend as your husband with bf!Nanami Kento
Content warnings: fluff, non sorcerer au
masterlist
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You dress up in a pretty white dress for the casual date that your boyfriend, Nanami Kento, had planned for you. A chill afternoon out in the park, painting things that inspire you, then have a little picnic and then probably spend the evening reading to each other and cooking together.
It isn’t suspicious when you set down your phone to record the painting date, you love taking videos of sweet times like this. “So today we are out here in this lovely park for our date - my husband had the lovely idea of us painting together in the sun, maybe getting inspired to make the next best thing.”
You take out your canvas and box of paints, but your lovely boyfriend has no reaction to the word other than a small smile on his face. The timelapse continues as you look at the scene around you, picking to sketch out the ducks in the pond. It’s a lovely day with the sun out and a cool breeze in the air, the smell of fresh spring delighting your senses. You feel serene and calm - Kento is your oasis in the chaotic world of work, work and work. 
A couple of hours into the date, you are finally done with your scene of ducks in the pond and the blooming trees surrounding them. You turn off the timelapse and set up your camera in a normal record instead. You finally look up at Kento, who is already looking at you with a smile plastered on his face.
“You look so adorable admiring your handiwork, my love.” He says. “So what inspired you today?”
“Those ducks and their little ducklings!” You excitedly say. “What about you, my husband?”
His smile only widens when you say that, but he feigns nonchalance as he says, “Oh, nothing, just a beautiful woman sitting in front of me.”
“Really?” you mumble, narrowing your eyes in fake anger. 
“It’s not very true to her form, but i tried my best,” He says.
“Okay, let’s show this to the camera at the count of three.” You say. “Three!”
Both of you turn your canvases to the camera - yours a quiet scene of the ducks and ducklings, his of a woman in a white dress, with a canvas on her lap. She has your hair, but her face is covered by her hair.
“Oh my god Kento, that is so pretty!” You exclaim, snatching his canvas from him. “I swear you make me look waay prettier than I actually am.”
“I think you undermine yourself a little too much, my wife.” He says, a pointed, cheeky glare sent to you. Your face heats up instantly, not having much of his self restraint.
“Should we go feed the ducks, husband?” You tease him back, the warmth not leaving your face.
“I am trying to get husbanded-up, you know?” He says, and you burst out into a fit of giggles.
“You aren’t trying fast enough,” you tease back.
“Your message has been received and you will receive your response in due time,” Nanami says, joining your giggles.
A/N: we are gonna ignore the context of the gf and pretend that's actually where our man is
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javarium · 5 months
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quiet kisses | r. sukuna
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prompt 2 — “I’ll kiss you anywhere but under the mistletoe.”
requested by @yuujispinkhair :: Heyyy babe, your Christmas prompt post is so cute 💗💗 If you feel inspired, can you please write a little something for Sukuna + prompt 2 or prompt 7 (whichever you prefer)? 💗💗
a/n: AHHHH thank you so much for sending this in Winter! 🤩 I can’t tell you how much I nearly exploded seeing your request in my inbox! I went with prompt 2 because that’s the one my brain started working for the fastest. I hope you like it and I did your request justice :3
w — alcohol mention, fluff, everyone is 20+ in this fic, modern AU, mentions of prompt 7 heehee, softie! sukuna, sukuna cooks at the end lmao but it’s not related to the chef! sukuna fic
[ Christmas Prompt List ]
[ Christmas Event Masterlist ]
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Nobara putting on this Christmas party was anything but unexpected. She was a party girl at heart, but nothing like what you’d see at a frat house or a club. No, she was the party master (or so she likes to call herself). And you kinda had to agree. Her parties weren’t over the top, but they definitely were anything but boring.
This time was no different: catering, along pizza and wine delivery, along with some of the more higher-rated Christmas movies playing on the TV with English Christmas music playing on the background, just loud enough that it wasn’t obnoxious.
You knew your boyfriend had to agree, even if he hated attending social events and parties.
What an introvert, you muse to yourself. You wonder how many people realize that as much as Sukuna seems like it, he doesn’t actually like parties. Nor anyone but himself and you at said parties.
You and Sukuna are off to the side against the bar that separates the kitchen and living area, deep in your own little world of each other. You’re leaning on him, his big arm wrapped around your shoulders comfortably.
You nudge him. “This isn’t so bad. See!”
Sukuna scoffs. “That’s what you said when you forced me into that Santa costume last year.”
“But you had some fun, didn’t you?”
“In the suit? No. Terrorizing children in it? Absolutely.”
You slap his chest. He catches your hand and presses a kiss to the back of it. You grumble. “You idiot.”
“Your idiot,” he remarks with a grin.
Suddenly, like magic, the party suddenly gets loud. Jingle Bells comes on the playlist set up, and everyone has begun to sing as loud as they possibly can. Sukuna grumbles and plugs one ear with a finger, rolling his eyes. He keeps on ear open, and you know it’s just to listen to you as you attempt to sing your way through the giggles.
When the song ends, everyone cheers. Sukuna unplugs his one ear and sighs, taking another sip of the hot chocolate you’ve made for him. They all quiet down, giggling and giddy from the sudden excitement of the old but catchy tune.
But why is everyone now looking at his and your direction?
And then everyone starts chanting: “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”
You and Sukuna look up at the same time, seeing a mistletoe being hung over your heads by a fishing rod, but none other than the Party Master herself. Nobara grins sadistically with an evil glint in her eye.
Sukuna cusses and downs the rest of his drink before saying, “I think that’s our cue to leave. Nice party, Kugisaki.”
You attempt to down the rest of yours before he grabs your hand with his bigger one and leads you out the front door, almost stumbling over your own two feet.
Behind you, everyone complains about Sukuna being a “party pooper” and leaving. Before you two leave, he turns back to them and gives them the finger.
“It wouldn’t be so bad if we weren’t the only couple here. Maybe Geto and Gojo should finally shack up,” Sukuna says with an evil grin. The two men next to each other go redder than tomatoes in record time. Sukuna isn’t done though, looking at his little brother. “And maybe you and Fushiguro should finally get a room, too, baby brother.”
The chaos from your boyfriend’s words gives you the chance to leave without trouble, the two unspoken couples now being the main attention of Kugisaki’s evil fishing rod-mistletoe.
Maybe they’ll be together come New Years, you think happily.
Sukuna drives you both home. One hand on the wheel, the other intertwined sweetly with yours. But by the time you get home, you’re halfway asleep in the car, hot cocoa being the perpetrator of your tiredness. You attempt to blink and wake up, but Sukuna’s gruff, “Stay put.” halts you as he turns the car off, keeping his keys in one hand.
You have no idea what he’s doing until he opens your door and slides his arms under your back and legs. You squeal and giggle as he effortlessly picks you up from your seat.
“Goddamn, you got the giggles tonight,” he mutters.
Like he’s done it a thousand times (he’s at least done it a couple dozen), Sukuna unlocks the front door with you in his arms with pure ease. He carries you over the threshold like a husband would his bride and doesn’t set you down. He hoists you up, readjusting your position closer to his chest. And then you see the cunning look in his eyes.
“Sukuna, what are you— mmph!”
He dips his head and captures your lips with his. He’s warm, so warm and comforting. You feel so safe and loved in his hold and damn do you love him. Your arms naturally tighten their hold around his neck as you two kiss in your home.
When Sukuna pulls away, he chuckles. You’re slightly breathless from the sudden kiss, but grinning nonetheless.
“You couldn’t do that at the party?” you inquire curiously.
“I’ll kiss you anywhere but under the mistletoe,” he replies honestly. “Especially at a party in front of people. Not my thing to make such an intimate spectacle of ourselves.”
Your heart flutters and overflows with love at his desire to keep his affection solely for your eyes to see. Sukuna has never been one to kiss or do intimate things in public beyond hand holding or wrapping his arm around your shoulders. For him, he considers that to be sacred; any acts of love he prefers to be behind closed doors, kept between the two of you and not in front of people to be fawned over or talked about.
“You really are the sweetest man I’ve ever met,” you say. “I’m so lucky. I really got the best man ever, didn’t I? Thanks, Universe.”
Your boyfriend’s cheeks tint red. A rare sight.
“Fuck. No, I’m the lucky one.” Sukuna gives you a fat smooch on the lips, the adds, “But I don’t have the universe to thank. I got you all by myself.”
You toss your head back and laugh at his indirect proclamation of arrogance. Or maybe it was just unshakable confidence, who knows?
Sukuna sets you down on the couch and asks, “What do you want for dinner?”
You think for a moment before replying, “Didn’t you say wanted to make some penne vodka the other day? That sounds good.”
“Penne alla vodka,” he corrects you with a stern eye.
You toss your hands up in mock surrender. “Sorry.”
But as Sukuna gets to work on the dish, you can’t help but stare at him as he works. He could be a master chef like Gordon Ramsey, if not better. But you’re kinda glad he’s not, not if you get to see him in your kitchen every night.
Yeah, you’d trade any party and PDA for his quiet kisses and love at home any day.
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taglist:
@vagabond-umlaut | @poe-daydreams | @heresan @thedovahqueen | @lotus-n-l0ve | @chiyoso | @miraclecherryblossomsblog | @unbreakableblueheaven | @marscatbutler | @vanillabloo | @wo-ming-bai | @visionsofmagic | @tohsri | @lilacliliess | @bub-ss | @missmuffinr
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amorfista · 4 months
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Shortly after starting their journey, and having arrived at Firelink Shrine safely, our heroes decide to take a short break and learn more about the origins of this world, before adventuring into bigger challenges. Tech has obviously already done his research, but wants to make sure his siblings are aware of what is to come. After all, this will be a long and dangerous journey, and if they aren't careful, they could all succumb to the Darksign that brands them...
But, how did they get to Firelink Shrine? What is the journey that awaits them? And what is the meaning of this Darksign?
...to be continued! ❤️
P.S. These frames are a drawn version of the actual intro for Dark Souls. Here's the cinematic if you are curious :))
Taglist: @dukeoftheblackstar @justalittletomato @darthmaulshispanichousewife @botherbother-blog @aftergloom @badolmen @ihaventpickedausername @ohboi @stardustbee @nik-barinova @the-chains-are-the-easy-part @she-of-the-quiet-woods @ejfivercommander @herbalinz-of-yesteryear @eyecandyeoz @noesqape @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @staycalmandhugaclone @callmesunny04 @freesia-writes @ginnymilling @sunshinesdaydream @sev-on-kamino @cloneloverrrrr @mooncommlink @idontgetanysleep @tech-aficionado @followthepurrgil @renton6echo @queen-jiru @shoe-bag @eyayah123 @eloquentmoon @and-loth-cat @stardusthuntress @bambambunny @morphofan @gt13tbbart @amalthiaph @cameronirat @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @anxiouspineapple99 @isthereanechoinhere96 @marymunchkiin @ffdemon @piccolaromana @oceanamber24 @dragonrider9905 @skellymom @din-miller @deejadabbles @askwenjing @clonelovr
I'm backkKK!!! 🥹I'm sorry about my absence. I'll try to be more active around here since I have some pending asks and mentions to reply to!! It's been busy and weird these past two months, and I haven't had the strength to continue with the project despite how badly I wanted to. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for your support, and I hope you enjoy!! ❤️😊
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upsidedownwithsteve · 2 months
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A soulmate AU: Steve Harrington x fem!reader [2.6K]
THE TIMELINE
“Love is born into every human being; it calls back the halves of our original nature together; it tries to make one out of two and heal the wound of human nature. Each of us, then, is a ‘matching half’ of a human whole…and each of us is always seeking the half that matches him.”
- Aristophanes, Plato’s Symposium.
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I. ATHENS, GREECE: 8TH CENTURY BC
The gods were angry.
Or so you’d heard. It started with whispers. Murmurs from the town and its people. Rumours spread across Athens the same way the breeze did at the start of summer. They said the gods were angry, furious.
How could the mortals be so silly? How could they possibly rile their gods like this? Again?
Stupid humans, foolish humans.
You didn’t understand.
But then one morning before the sun rose, you awoke to a reddened sky and a heavy wind, a storm brewing over the horizon, a dark mass you could see above the sea from your bedroom window. Preachers took to the streets then, standing on the cobbles with bells ringing above their heads, warning every person listening about the end of times. It had happened before, they said, their faces masks of horror. It was happening again.
The gardens all died, grass turning black, crops to dust, life fleeing from the ocean as Poseidon uprooted the seafloor, waves crashing against the cliff's edge. Athens turned to decay, colour slipping from the world as the gods ruled over it from the skies and sea. A punishment fit for the crime, the elders said, telling stories at the marketplace, of how their own grandparents had once been born together, joined at the heart, four arms and four legs.
One soul.
They said Zeus came from Olympus, that he’d crashed down to earth riding a bolt of lightning and he ripped the mortals apart. They said it was a bloodshed, rivers of red running through the plazas, wells turning thick like tar.
Zeus cursed everyone, you heard. Your kind had been getting too prideful, too full of ego and greed and want for more. The gods feared an uprising, they sat on their thrones and they resented to power you all craved.
So they did something about it.
With their wounds left to heal on their own over months and years, each half of a mortal was thrown to different corners of the earth, destined to spend the rest of their lives searching for the other half of their soul.
It seemed nothing more than a fable, a horror story for children, something you would never have believed. Soulmates? Someone made just for you? An impossible notion, you were sure you would have once thought, if you hadn’t already met yours.
He was at the forge when the first bolt of lightning hit the ground.
The concrete split and temples on the cliff sides shook, the tiles on each home shattering as they fell. You heard people yelling from your garden as the ground shuddered and an eerie quiet followed. A hollow silence, a calm before a storm and then something else hit the ground too.
Bigger, heavier, more powerful.
You dropped your basket and ran.
Still barefoot, you left the sodden clothes on the grass and fled, passing the sanctuary of your home, the temples beyond the rivers, the forests that came before the sea. You ran to the plaza, through the marketplace that was buzzing with fear, shoulders burning with pain as you slammed your way past everyone who ran against you. You were battling a tidal wave of townsfolk, each one crying and yelling.
You heard shouts of Titans! Furies!
People yelled out names they once didn’t dare whisper, each word said like a curse. Cronus, Crius, Oceanus, Thea. Standing on the marble steps of the Parthenon, a preacher in guided robes had blood running down the side of his face, a cut on his head matting his greying hair. He was ashen, clutching at his scribes and shouting at the frenzied crowd below.
“Tartarus has risen!” He yelled, “the gates of Hades have opened and we, foolish mortals, shall pay for our sins! The father of gods shall come for us, he shall feast upon thy flesh and bone and—”
The preacher's harrowing words were cut off abruptly as another crack in the earth opened up. The shining marble split and the man fell through, the world itself swallowing him whole. You didn’t have time to react more than a strangled cry coming from somewhere deep in your chest. You clasped your hand to your mouth, fearing you’d lose your breakfast, that you’d become too dizzy to keep moving.
The ocean was growing closer, too tall waves and swirling, dark pools buried into its depths. Ships were being sucked under, their white sails the last thing you saw before they were swallowed by Poseidon’s fury. A golden chariot raced down from the sky, sparks flying in the air as it landed on the roof of the Acropolis. More marble shattered and Ares, the god of war, had landed on earth to do his duty.
By the time you reached the forge, the plaza was running red, just like the elders had said it would. The bronzed statue of Hephaestus that guarded the entrance to the blacksmiths had come to life, the god himself taking its form as he spewed fire across the village, molten heat and steel dripping from his large hands, coal crumbling at his feet. The air smelled like ash, like fire and death.
As you searched for him - your other half - eyes wide and frantic, your chest heaving, Hades stood in the shadows across the cobbled road. Inky black dripped from him, from his robes, his skin, his mouth. He looked ghoulish until he stepped into what was left of the daylight, a trick of the sun turning his gaunt face handsome. He grinned at you, each tooth pointed and sharp and he held out a hand. A pomegranate was placed in his palm, the fruit cracked open and the ruby seeds spilling out of it like tiny jewels. He beckoned you, a voice in your head whispering, silky, sultry, full of promises that couldn’t be real.
Surely eternal damnation was better than a fate like this?
You moved, your body not your own, one foot in front of the other, your hand outstretched. Images flashed through your head, dark swirls of three headed dogs, rivers made of souls and gates of bones. But when they opened, there was a garden, more beautiful than the ones in Athens, with their marble pillars and fountains that led into ponds. In this garden, temples stood gleaming and tall, with maidens dancing amongst rose bushes, naked and with hair to their waists. They waved to you, more scarlet coloured fruit held in their hands and they were laughing, singing, pulling you closer--
Another bolt of lightning - bigger and louder and brighter than before - hit the ground and the maidens disappeared. The god of the underworld grinned once more before he stepped back into the shadows and turned to smoke, melting into the bloodied ground.
Zeus had landed in Athens.
And you couldn’t find Steve.
Steve Harrington, son of the town’s head blacksmith, was tending to the forge when the first god came to earth. He’d left you in bed, the threadbare sheets around you still warm, your skin littered with his leftover kisses, marks from his greedy fingers the night before. The sky had been scarlet when he walked across the plaza and in the far distance, a plume of smoke rose from what seemed like the ocean. The Methana volcano was simmering, waiting, spewing fumes of gas and dust.
A warning.
The forge cracked when Zeus arrived, the bricks splitting along with the forge floor, cobbles and bricks turning to rubble under the men’s feet. Fire and coal tumbled from the cast iron cages, half made swords of burning steel falling at their feet. The sky above rumbled, the windows shattering as bolts of lightning hit the land and people screamed, torturous sounds that made Steve run blindly out into the plaza.
Some were kneeling, their heads bent and their palms open to the sky, to the gods. A sacrifice that was ignored. Others ran, diving into buildings that immediately fell on top of them and Steve watched in horror as people dropped before him, falling like sacks, crumpled to the ground as they clutched their chests in agony. They called out their lovers' names, their voices hoarse, pleading, desperate and all at once, a crowd surged behind Steve, carrying him with them, his shoulders burning at the momentum.
He had to find you.
The market was in ruins, once fresh vegetables and fruits now smashed into the concrete, the smell of baked bread hidden under burning embers. Panicked horses fled their owners and carts, almost knocking Steve to the ground as they tried to escape the carnage. The sea level was rising, the shadows of boat sails towering over marble buildings, the hulls of ships teetering closer to pillars that once held the statues of the gods now seeking revenge. Steve had been raised to honour them, to covet them, to fear them.
And he’d never felt as scared as he did when he spotted you across the square, eyes wide and not yet finding his, your gaze too trained on the statue of Aphrodite that was crashing down too close to you. The white marble hit the floor and shattered, sending clouds of dust and dirt into the already smoke filled air and you disappeared from Steve’s sight once more.
Panic flooded him, a fear like no other and suddenly the gods that reigned from the seas and skies didn’t seem as terrifying anymore.
He yelled your name, choking on the fumes from the fires that had started to rage all around, Hephaestus riding a cloud of black coals and burning embers as he let fire pour from his palms and open mouth, a gaping maw of molten lava that dripped from and melted everything and everyone it touched. Steve flung himself to the ground to avoid the flames, crawling desperately forward before he caught himself and began to run again, hissing as the gaps in his shoes filled with shards of broken stone. Red poured from the soles of his feet but he didn’t think anything could hurt as much as the thought of losing you.
Again, he screamed for you, the letters of your name hitching in his throat, scratching like glass and more people tore in front of his path, running from the destruction. Bodies fell before him, couples forever trapped in a lovers embrace, their faces hidden in each other's chests. They became one again, four arms, four legs, two faces.
Joined at a heart that was no longer beating.
Steve didn’t want to die without you.
He found you in the rubble as Zeus moved closer, a grey and white shadow of a man, a huge hulking figure that didn’t seem real. He didn’t look like his marble castings, the statues that were gilded with gold leaf. He wore no olive laurel on his head, he bore no kind smile nor gentle eyes. Instead he held bolts of lightning in his hands like swords, like spears, throwing them at his victims with cruel precision.
A storm followed him, bigger than anything Steve had ever seen before. It turned the red clouds above the god purple and black, an inky slurry of darkness and electricity crackled between spaces. The air buzzed and Steve’s skin prickled, the static making his ripped and bloodied shirt cling to his damp chest.
Poseidon had finally shown himself, emerging from the waves, his skin a sickly green, his eyes darker than the deepest depths of the sea he came from. He held a triton, seaweed hanging from its points, his body scarred and battered from the horrors he created in the oceans. He seemed too big, a giant, an almost titan and rain poured from Zeus’ purple clouds as he advanced onto Athens.
Steve saw your arm, a limp hand from beneath a pile of stone and he cried as he lifted each piece of what was once Aphrodite. The marble face of the goddess of love smiled warmly at him and it felt mocking, it felt like an arrow to the chest.
You were still alive, barely awake, nose dripping blood and a slice across your forehead that narrowly missed your eye. You cried when Steve pulled you free, his strong arms wrapped around your torso and you clung to him, barely daring to look at the horrors that surrounded you. He smelled like smoke and fire and the metal sting of blood, but under it all, there was something like home that still lay on his skin.
He seemed frantic, calling your name over and over until you nodded and said his back, like it was only upon hearing your voice that he believed you were alive. Steve sat amongst the debris of Aphrodite and held you, your weak frame pulled into his lap and he cradled you there, your head on his shoulder and your arms around his neck.
You weren’t sure what you coveted more fiercely, the young man or your last breath.
A shadow lingered nearby, listening to the soft murmurs you shared the pretty lies you both needed to hear as you told each other it would be okay. Hades stood close, statuesque and with black plumes at the bottom of his dark robes, a midnight blue cast over his skin. He looked like he’d never been close to looking human. He held a timepiece in one hand, a golden thing that ticked too loudly and he grinned at you and Steve, watching, waiting as two creatures by his feet held scrolls of names. They were made od nothing kind, created from bone and other people’s spines, their too long tails and forked tongues that flickered over the skin of the dead as they sent their souls below.
Steve knew he’d fight a god before he let them take you.
But he didn’t get such the luxury of battling for his lover. Zeus moved closer still, rain pouring harder, electricity making his hair stand on end. The father of gods himself stood tall before you both, his eyes as white as his long hair and beard. Nothing about him softened as he gazed down at you both intertwined, blood from each other staining your lover's skin.
Steve pulled you closer, his hand cupping the nape of your neck as he pushed your face to his throat, shielding you, protecting you. You clung to him tighter, hands fisting in the rags of his old shirt and you wondered if you’d ever get to see him again. If this life was it, if this was all you were allowed.
The two of you in the ruins of Athens, the goddess of love shattered at your feet. Four legs, four arms, two faces, one soul. Connected by a heart that seemed weaker than ever in the presence of something cruel.
Silence came before the crack, the world stilling, Athens at peace. You found solace in Steve, your nose pressed to his neck as you held onto him, praying for something painless. You pushed two kisses to his skin then, the side of his throat that seemed to make your lips fizz and Steve sucked in a breath, his lips at your temple, cherishing the last touch he got of you.
“I love you,” Steve whispered and his voice cracked on each word. Tears from his eyes stream the dirt on his face, running rivers down your cheek until they mixed with your own. “I’ll find you again. In the next life, and the next again. I prom—”
A bolt of lightning, so hot it felt frozen, struck the breath of space between your chests. Something inside of you cracked then, ribs splintering as the weapon found your heart and you couldn’t feel Steve’s arms around you anymore.
You couldn’t feel anything.
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edenesth · 4 months
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The Way to His Heart [4]
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Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader
AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)
Word Count: 3.1k
Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.
Part 3 | Fic Masterlist | Part 5
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"Mistress, please allow me to help you back to your quarters." Eunsook pleaded, once again attempting to gently pull you up from the floor. But you shook your head weakly, keeping your forehead stubbornly glued to the ground.
Jongho sighed, stepping in to help, "Miss Jang, it's the general's orders. We've been tasked with taking you back to your room. If you don't cooperate, we might be in trouble."
To the relief of both employees, that seemed to work. They quickly moved to assist your limp and defeated form, with your tear-stained face and the bruise forming on your forehead breaking their hearts. Without wasting another minute, they moved you onto the assistant's back before rushing back to The Cold Palace.
You were already unconscious when they gently laid you on your bed, the toll of your crying apparent. Eunsook sighed, pulling the blankets over your petite frame and tucking you in. She then moved to dab your wet cheeks lightly with the sleeve of her uniform.
Observing you, Jongho frowned, "She feels so light; that doesn't seem normal. It's as if she barely weighs anything. Just what in the world was her life like in the Jang estate?"
The head maid gestured for him to keep quiet, putting a finger to her lips and shaking her head in warning. She didn't want to risk waking you up or, worse, letting you hear them talk about you as if you weren't there right in front of them.
Outside your room, the two took a moment to process the events of the day. It became apparent to them that you were just as much a pawn in your father's game as their master. It was also clear that your sudden presence was set to shake the very foundation of everything they had ever known in the general's estate.
"Let's just... take a break for the night and see what happens tomorrow." Eunsook mumbled, massaging her temples to alleviate the approaching headache.
Jongho agreed, "At least we've learned that our master isn't completely heartless." They exchanged knowing smiles before retiring to their respective quarters for the night.
Unbeknownst to everyone in the estate, Seonghwa stayed awake until he was sure that his assistant and head maid had carried out their assigned task. Laying in his bed, he forced himself to sleep, but the haunting image of you sobbing and kneeling on the ground plagued his thoughts incessantly.
He tells himself that perhaps he should have begun eating a bit first during dinner; that would've allowed you to have more energy during the extended hours of kneeling. Your reaction to the food lingers in his thoughts. In retrospect, he acknowledges that instructing the servants to discard all the food while you were hungry might have been a bit much; he realises that now.
Tomorrow, I'll allow her breakfast.
Tossing and turning throughout the night, the general found no reprieve until the early hours of the day. Even when he did manage to drift off to sleep, his dreams were filled with recurring scenes of the heart-wrenching dinner. His guilt and remorse persisted even in his unconscious state.
As the morning arrived, the voice of the head maid echoed from the entrance of your room, waking you from your sleep, "Good morning, mistress! May we please enter? We will be fixing you a bath and helping you get dressed for the day."
"N-no! I don't need help getting ready!"
You gasped, a sense of panic seizing you as you tried to move towards the mirror to inspect your reflection. The prospect of them assisting you with bathing and dressing meant they would inevitably see the bruises and scars littered across your body. The risk of being ousted on your second day loomed over you, and that was something you couldn't allow.
Your legs betrayed you and gave out, succumbing to weakness due to prolonged hunger. You crawled the remaining distance to the worn-out mirror in your room, suppressing a sob as you covered your mouth upon seeing your bare, unadorned self. The tears from the previous night had washed away your makeup, unveiling the stark reality of your appearance.
"Mistress, please. We've brought a new set of clothes for you, along with the freshest rose petals for your bath. It will be relaxing and enjoyable, we assure you!"
The kindness in Eunsook's voice intensified your emotional turmoil. As you stared at your hideous reflection, you realised you didn't deserve such luxury. You weren't the beautiful and elegant first daughter promised to Seonghwa; you felt like a fraud. How naive could you have been to believe you stood a chance of becoming the wife of the renowned General Park?
You weren't good enough; you'll never be.
"No, I don't want anything! J-just leave me alone, please..." You cried, pulling your knees into your chest and hugging them close. Despite the continuous persuasion from the elderly woman, you ignored her and remained curled up in the corner.
"Mistress... please," Eunsook gave up with a sigh, shaking her head at the servants behind her, "Take it away for now." They obeyed and dispersed with the clothes and bath supplies they had prepared. She knew there was nothing she could do if you refused to grant her permission to enter.
As the footsteps of the departing servants faded away, you released a sigh of relief. Your gaze remained fixed on the marks on your skin, cruel reminders of the abuse inflicted by your father, scars that seemed destined never to fade. So long as you have these on your body, you will never know what happiness is.
A bitter, humourless chuckle escaped your lips as you contemplated the fading hope for happiness. The general's response to your heartfelt words served as undeniable proof that, no matter how sincere your efforts, he would never accept you. The burden of the Jang surname seemed to ensure that you would never be given a fair chance, regardless of how hard you try.
While you wallowed in self-pity, Seonghwa was on the opposite side of the estate, reluctantly getting dressed for the day. His sleep had been far from restful, leaving him in a sour mood.
"So... how is she doing?" He asked in a detached tone, staring out of his window to avoid meeting his assistant's eyes.
Jongho arched an eyebrow at the question, suppressing a knowing smile as he observed his master's attempt to maintain a nonchalant demeanour, "Are you referring to Miss Jang, sir?"
The general clicked his tongue in irritation, "Who else would I be asking about?"
His aide nodded, "Right, how silly of me. Well, it seemed like she was sleeping quite well when we returned her to her quarters. I haven't checked on her since then, but Eunsook has organised a group of servants to assist her with a bath and preparations for the day."
Seonghwa hummed in approval, doing his best to mask any sense of satisfaction, "Very well. She better be punctual for breakfast then, we shall see how she plans to prove her innocence."
Despite his insistence on you being suspicious, Jongho could discern that there was no malice in his master's words. Perhaps there was hope that things could work out between the two of you after all. It seemed like the general was already letting his guard down, even if only slightly; the assistant could see it.
Or not.
"Where the hell is she?"
Seonghwa frowned, growing impatient as he had been waiting for some time, and you were nowhere to be seen in the dining hall.
Breakfast had already been served, and he even had the servants prepare slightly more than usual, anticipating your need for extra food since you hadn't eaten dinner the previous night.
Just as he asked the question, Jongho pointed at the head maid rushing towards the dining hall, strangely without you in sight, "There, Eunsook's coming."
The elderly woman bowed upon reaching the dining hall, catching her breath before addressing the general, "Good morning, master."
He waved off the greeting, "What's going on? Where's Miss Jang? Were you not getting her ready?"
She appeared to hesitate in her response, stammering, "W-well, I was trying to, but—"
"But what?" Seonghwa pressed, annoyance evident in his tone. Sensing her master's foul mood, Eunsook knew she had no choice but to tell the truth.
Jongho nodded encouragingly at his colleague, not wanting her to get in trouble. The head maid lowered her head in defeat, "I arranged for her bath and everything first thing in the morning, and we've been stuck outside her quarters for nearly an hour. Master, she refuses to let us in. It seems she doesn't wish to be bathed or changed."
The general and his assistant found themselves baffled by the revelation. Your new husband struggled to comprehend why anyone would be foolish enough to refuse a pleasant bath and a fresh change of clothes. But he was becoming less surprised after witnessing your odd behaviour the day before. By now, he had accepted the fact that you were far from normal.
Letting out a heavy sigh, he pressed a hand against his head, "Just... if she doesn't want to be bathed that badly, leave it. Just tell her to come out and eat," He muttered, recalling your longing gaze fixed on the dishes during dinner, "Go, get her now."
"Yes, master." Eunsook bowed before heading back to you. She hoped that this time, you would finally show yourself. Her concern grew as she remembered hearing the anguish in your voice when you asked to be left alone just earlier.
To be sure, she checked with the nearby servants if you had called for anyone or even emerged from your room while she was away, only to sigh in disappointment when they shook their heads.
She raised her hand to knock gently, "Mistress, I've come to inform you that breakfast is ready. The master is waiting for you. He wants you to know it's alright if you prefer not to be bathed or changed, but please, come and eat."
Instead of providing comfort, that only heightened your anxiety. Was the general summoning you to further interrogate you? It seemed likely. If he were to see you in this state, he might resort to beating you to death in an instant. Surely, being wedded to someone like you would be an insult to the great General Park.
As appealing as the idea of breakfast was, you feared you might not get to eat, similar to the previous night. Especially not with your current appearance. You winced, feeling the ache in your stomach from going without food for so long.
Perhaps this is how you'll meet your end.
"Mistress, wouldn't you like to have some breakfast?" Eunsook made another attempt, her concern deepening as she noticed your silhouette huddled in pain in a corner.
You shook your head, holding onto your stomach, "No... I-I don't want anything! Just... just go away, please..."
Seonghwa's impatience reached new heights as he waited, and it only intensified when he saw the head maid returning once again, without you by her side. He narrowed his eyes, feeling stupid for trying to be considerate towards you this morning. Here you were, revealing your true colours by being an ungrateful brat already.
His anger finally erupted when the elderly woman bowed deeply with a regretful grimace, "I'm sorry, master. Miss Jang refuses to leave her room."
The general slammed his fists against the table, scaring both Jongho and Eunsook as he pushed himself off his seat, seething, "That's it. If it's my attention she wants, then she's about to get it."
In a panic, the two employees chased after their furious master, making pitiful attempts to calm him down, "Master, please, perhaps she is still emotionally recovering from what happened last night!" But no amount of words could extinguish the fire in Seonghwa's eyes as he stormed towards The Cold Palace.
Truth be told, the assistant and head maid had never seen the general so worked up over any of his fiancées before. In fact, he barely paid them any attention, and they would all flee the estate in less than a day. Had it been any other woman, he probably wouldn't have cared if she came to breakfast or not; he probably wouldn't even bat an eyelash if she died in her room.
But he was oddly affected by your absence.
"Get out of my goddamned way!" He roared, pushing through the servants working around the garden paths that led to your quarters. They scrambled to their knees, bowing their heads low to avoid angering him further.
Jongho and Eunsook shot apologetic looks as they hurried past the poor servants who were just trying to do their jobs. But they had no time to worry about their colleagues when they saw Seonghwa closing in on your room. They scurried over to hold him back, trying to prevent him from scaring you any more than he already had.
"Master, please—"
Before they could intervene, the general forcefully slammed the flimsy doors of your room open, causing one of them to break off its hinges. Your cowering form was immediately revealed, but your new husband was too furious to show any sympathy.
"Are you angry because I didn't give you the wedding night you desired? If you want it that badly, I'll give it to you right now." Without allowing you to respond, he yanked your arms away from your body and tore the outer layer of your hanbok open, exposing your innerwear and shoulders completely.
"N-no, please!"
In just a split second, all of his fury vanished.
The sight of the numerous marks covering your skin, along with the newly revealed ones on your face, left Seonghwa frozen in place. He couldn't move as he observed the bruises and scars scattered all over you, and these were only the ones visible. He dreaded to think about what might be hidden beneath the rest of your body.
What the actual f—
Having tortured more than enough prisoners as part of his job, he was able to distinguish between old and fresh wounds. Judging from all the ones on you, he was repulsed to realise that you had a bit of everything – your injuries ranged from years to a few months old. This meant that you had been enduring abuse for a really long time.
A series of horrified gasps escaped Jongho and Eunsook as soon as they entered the room and witnessed the condition of your skin. You let out a heart-wrenching sob, making a feeble attempt to cover yourself again, "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..." You whimpered, despite being violated.
It's over. My life... is over.
Feeling lightheaded from all the crying and prolonged starvation, your vision darkened, your eyes gradually fluttered shut, and you slumped forward. The general acted swiftly, catching you and, for once, displaying gentleness as he nestled your head into the crook of his neck, holding your fragile form close.
"Hand me the blanket." He instructed. The head maid hurried over with the fabric, witnessing her master wrapping you in it.
Rising with you in his arms, he moved toward his private quarters with a newfound determination, "Jongho, go summon Physician Jung." The assistant bowed and hastily departed to fulfil his orders.
Entering his room, he laid you on his bed and carefully covered you with the sheets. Examining you more closely now, he became aware of your true frailty. Carrying you earlier, he noticed how remarkably light you were, like a feather. He clenched his fists in rage as he took in the horrendous marks that marred your skin. The new bruise forming on your forehead from the night before only made him feel worse.
Letting out a sigh, he tenderly wiped away the tears staining your cheeks, "What in the world happened to you? Who did this to you? Who dare lay their hands on you, hm?" He whispered, his heart tightening with more guilt than the previous night.
Eunsook stood in the corner, witnessing the scene unfold before her eyes with mixed emotions. While she was pleased to finally see her master display genuine care and affection towards you, it saddened her to realise the extent of the hardships you had to go through to evoke this response from him.
At the same time, her heart ached even more at the sight of the visible evidence of what you had been trying to conceal from everyone. It now made sense why you resisted a bath; you must have been terrified of anyone seeing the marks on your body. The thought of the horrors you endured in the Jang estate sent a shudder down her spine.
"Sir, Physician Jung has arrived," Jongho announced at the entrance, awaiting permission to enter. Seonghwa nodded tersely, "Let him in." The general rose from his seat to greet the physician, a familiar face who had become somewhat of a family doctor.
"Good afternoon, General Park. Are you feeling unwell—" The physician's words halted as soon as his eyes landed on the frail figure lying on the bed.
"It's not me this time, Yunho. It's... my wife."
« Preview of Part 5 »
"Jongho," The general called out softly, his eyes staying fixed on your unconscious form. Despite the softness in his tone, he was anything but calm on the inside. His aide stepped forward, "Sir?"
Finally shifting his gaze from you, he turned to his assistant, dead serious, "I'm going to need you to dig deeper this time. Hire a private investigator if necessary. Find someone willing to infiltrate the minister's estate and get someone to talk. Pay them as much as they need. Just find out what the hell happened while she was in there."
Deep down, he had a gut feeling about who might be responsible for all this, but he needed to know what exactly was done to you and why. He needed confirmation, and most importantly, evidence.
"General Park, I eagerly anticipate our forthcoming union. I assure you, my eldest is a gem; you'll come to adore her."
Recalling the smugness in Minister Jang's tone as he uttered those words, everything began to click. The puzzle pieces were coming together. The narrative of you being an accomplice for whatever your father had planned against him was finally being discarded; it was clear to him now that you were as much a victim as he was, except you'd had it much worse.
"Leave it to me, sir. I'll do everything to find out what happened to Miss Jang." The assistant said with determination, bowing.
Before he could leave, Seonghwa added, "Mistress. It's mistress to you all now. From today onwards, she's the official wife of General Park. I don't want to hear anyone calling her by that ridiculous surname ever again, understand?"
Jongho and Eunsook couldn't hide their smiles as they bowed rather enthusiastically, "Yes, master!"
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Umm, surprise? HAHA I know I said I was sick, and I still am, but I'm feeling slightly better and gosh, not even the cold can keep me away from working on this! All your kind replies and messages got me so hyped, I had to finish this asap🤭
As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3
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dilemmaontwolegs · 2 months
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For the Love of God(dess) || CL16 {2}
Summary: Greek God/dess AU. You show Charles a part of your world and he shows you a part of his. Warnings: angst, fluff WC: 2.6k Part One || Two
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The old stone path should have been worn for all the centuries that it had been used as the entrance to Olympus but it was still as perfect as it was the first time you walked it. Nothing ever changed, not since the war ended and a new hierarchy settled among the gods. For two thousand years nothing had changed in the Eternal City.
“Love, what have you done?” The imposing form of Ares filled the road to your temple, his arms the size of your waist. His molten red eyes barely glanced at the man at your side before snapping back with a double take. “Kàrolos?”
“Uh, so everyone keeps saying,” he answered quietly, his eyes sizing up the God of War as he spoke for the first time since arriving through the portal. “And you are?”
“Intrigued,” Ares said with a smirk. “Good luck.”
The god vanished and Charles rubbed at his head, murmuring, “Fucking weird dream.”
“You’ll wake up soon,” you sighed. It might not be the wake up he expected, but it was coming - you just had to find Athena. “I know someone who can help make sense of this, we just need to get you back to my place first. It’s right over h-” your words froze as turned towards your temple. 
Where grey stone walls had stood, great white pillars of marble rose. Where empty garden beds lay, hundreds of white roses bloomed. 
Your temple had been restored.
“This is your home?” Charles asked, a little awestruck by the sounds of it. It was quite amusing that he walked among the gods but he found beauty in a building of all things.
“Our home.”
“I have a home - in Monaco.”
You opened your mouth to argue but saw the quiet desperation in his features. He was clinging to his humanity and it forced you to remember that this wasn’t the Kàrolos you knew, this was a stranger. The only resemblance they held were their eyes, but they were the window to the soul and they still had the same soul. 
“Let’s just go inside.”
The doors beyond the marble arch swung open on your approach and the interior had changed just as much. The vast room was open to the sunlight and a fountain filled the centre, the sound of bubbling water a calming feature. Open arches led to more rooms but you made your way to the furthest one. 
Charles followed sedately into the bedroom and out onto the balcony that overlooked the city. Above rose the peak which Zeus had claimed, his golden palace glittering beneath Apollo’s sunshine. Below, the forests of Artemis spread far and wide with lush green canopies and the Orlias river winding through it. 
Your palms warmed on the stone railing as you watched a herd of deer pick their way to the river for a drink. “I know you have a million questions and I’m sorry for…everything.”
Charles’ shoulder leaned into yours as he drank in the scenery but he jumped back when an owl swooped in, the spotted wings brushing his cheek. A flash of light burst from the owl and bare feet touched down on the balcony. 
“Hmmm, you have had quite the night, Love,” she said with an appreciative look over Charles. She reached out to his face with a smile and wiggled her fingers. “May I?”
“Why? What are you going to do? Who are you?”
“So many questions,” she laughed. “I am Athena, I am knowledge, and if you want the answers then you will let me touch you.”
He looked to you for help and gods damned if it didn’t make something in your chest hurt before you nodded. He swallowed the fear of the unknown and trusted you as he stepped into her waiting hands. Lightning shattered his brain, blinding him with flashes of images that moved too fast to see. But he knew. Knowledge expanded and exploded in his mind at an exponential rate until he knew everything. Thousands of years of history burned into his retina in less than a second. The history of the gods and goddesses that called this place home. The history of the wars and the destruction it brought. The history of you and everything you lost.
He knew it all. And it hurt more than the pain that splintered his head.
He didn’t even realise he collapsed until he felt the softest mattress dip beneath his weight as you laid him down. Your concerned face appeared above him, the sun catching your hair and weaving a golden halo around the strands. A thought crossed his mind and he laughed, shaking his head.
“What?” you asked curiously as his fingers twitched like he had to fight the urge to reach out to you.
“When we met I thought you looked like a goddess, but of course you do. You are.” He looked to the balcony but the owl had already taken flight back to her palace on the hill. “I’m not him, you know.”
“I know.” The man you loved had died a long time ago. You had your time together, no matter how short, and you had mourned for him. It was time to move on. “I don’t want you to be Kàrolos. I want to learn who you are, Charles.”
“And what if you don’t like who I am?”
“I am the Goddess of Love,” you teased, climbing onto the bed to sit beside him. “My arrows don’t work unless there is compatibility between the souls. Psyche is probably better off explaining that but my power only amplifies what attraction is already there. Can’t say I have been on the receiving end of it before. This will take some getting used to.”
“What will?”
“The want, the need to touch you,” you confessed as you looked down at your hands that gripped the bedspread tightly. “It is difficult to be this close and not reach out.”
Charles frowned. “You loved Kàrolos but you didn’t use an arrow?”
“Not everyone needs an arrow to fall in love. Like I said, it only amplifies. People find love on their own everyday, only some need a little poke in the right direction. Those friends who have been dancing around each other for years, the abused who don’t think they are worthy of being loved, the colleagues who only flirt at work. The fates weave their tapestry with a trillion threads of life and when there is a snag, like two lovers who failed to meet, then I repair it so the loom can continue its creation.”
Charles blinked as he began to understand how complex the roles of the gods were. “Fuck.” 
You laughed and his lips tugged up at the sound. 
“I don’t mind, if you want to touch me,” he admitted quietly, reaching for your hand and unfurling it from the bedding. His hand was larger than yours but your fingers settled between his comfortably and your body sagged with relief. “So what do we do now?”
You shrugged, not exactly knowing the answer yourself. Time was plentiful so there was no rush, but you were eager to find out who it was your heart had been given to. “What do you enjoy?”
Charles’ smile dropped as he suddenly remembered the world he had left behind. “Shit, we need to go back. I have a race this week.”
“Breaking News: Peace had been brokered between nations all over the globe in a dramatic turn of events. For more information we will be heading to our correspondent at the United Nations HQ…”
Charles turned off the TV in the hotel but he didn’t miss the way your eyes remained fixed on the screen, or the way your lip wobbled. Crossing the room, he grabbed your hands and bent his knees so you were eye to eye. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s my fault,” you whispered through the lump in your throat. “I failed my duties.”
He looked back at the TV where you could still see the breaking news. Peace had come after two thousand years of skirmishes and wars on the mortal plane. There should have never been wars to begin with. 
“That isn’t your fault,” he argued, but he had the knowledge of the gods, he understood how your power worked. The gods were a fragile ecosystem that required balance. You were the balance to Ares’ power and his effect on the world.
“I was weakened when Kàrolos died, I lost half of myself, half of my strength. It left Ares unchecked - of course it is my fault.”
Charles wrapped his arms around you, tucking your head into the crook of his neck so you couldn’t stare at the TV. “You’re making things right now, that’s what matters.”
“It’s not even me,” you laughed bitterly. “It’s you. I couldn’t do this on my own.”
“Come on,” he said as he started to drag you towards the door.
“Where are we going?”
“You need a distraction, and I know just the thing.” 
Charles drove to the circuit he would be practising on in the morning and it was relatively quiet as he led you through the paddock. A few teenagers excitedly asked for photos with him and you smiled as he stopped to talk with each one. He was so different to Kàrolos. Kàrolos was a warrior, proud and unmoving. Most children gave him a wide berth when they saw the scars that littered his body. It wasn’t in him to idly chatter or placate others, the only soft spot he had was for you. 
“You’re very patient,” you commented as he waved goodbye and continued to the edge of the track. 
He smiled shyly and looked at his shoes as he shrugged. “I try my best to talk to fans, especially when I have the time. Take a few laps with me?”
You followed his gaze to a Ferrari that was parked in the pit lane. “I’ve never been in a car.”
“No, really?” His eyes were wide with disbelief and you laughed at the innocence in those eyes. 
“I go where I want, I’ve never needed to drive.”
He grabbed your hand and excitement flowed through you as he set a quick pace to the car. “Trust me?” he asked as he opened the passenger door.
You were immortal so it didn’t matter if he crashed. Sure, it would hurt but you would eventually heal. But the question felt heavier than just asking if you trusted him not to crash, more that you could trust him to keep you safe. “Yes, I trust you, Charles.”
You slipped into the seat that was moulded to cradle you before he bent down and buckled the clips in for you. His cologne reached your nose at the close proximity and you inhaled deeper as you committed the rich scent to your memory. 
“Is this comfortable?” he asked as he tugged the harness.
“It is…managable.” Restrictive, confined, and claustrophobic came to mind but you didn’t want to worry him as he went around to his side. There was energy in his step that had been missing in Olympus, an ambience that brightened the moment he arrived at the racing track, and you wanted to keep that light in his aura. 
“We’ll take the first one slow,” he promised as he started the engine and gripped the wheel. 
You had flown into battle on the back of a pegasus, you had held onto the fins of charybdis as they raced through Posiden’s domain. Nothing came close to the thrill and the speed of Charles’ car. 
Your heart jumped up your throat as you were thrown back into the seat and then the world around you blurred. Everything faded away except for the window ahead and you didn’t dare blink in case you missed a moment. There were no thoughts on the what ifs of the future, or the regrets of your past. There was only the car, and Charles grinning at you.
“Are you sure this is slow?” you asked with a giddy laugh as the adrenaline reached your head and the initial surprise was erased.
“Hold on, cherie.” The engine roared louder and like a beast it leapt forward. A scream of exhilaration filled the car as Charles lassoed the metal beast and wrangled it through each corner until he finally slowed to return to the pit lane. 
“I finally understand the obsession,” you admitted as he parked back where he had left. Your fingers were almost stiff where they had gripped the harness over your chest and you flexed the feeling back into them before unbuckling it. “I can’t even describe it, but I feel alive - if that makes sense? I can’t think quite clearly now.”
“I understand.” Charles smiled softly and wiped away the stray tear that ran down your cheek from having your eyes wide open for so long. “It’s getting late.”
You climbed out of the car and looked up to see stars dotting the desert night sky. It felt like time stopped while you were in the car but nothing could stop time and it all came rushing back. “Can we do this again?” you asked, a little sheepish at how needy you sounded.
“Of course,” Charles promised, taking your hand as naturally as breathing. “After this race it’s winter break and I am all yours.” He stumbled and caught himself. “I mean, if you want to hang out and, uh, stuff. I don’t have any plans, but if you do we can figure something ou-”
You rose onto your toes and kissed his cheek that was turning pink in the moonlight and he fell silent. “I don’t have any plans either.”
Charles stared at your lips, still feeling the warmth on his cheek and he touched the skin as a smile tugged at his lips and he nodded to himself. “Okay. Okay.” 
“You’re cute,” you said as you felt the urge to kiss his lips next.
His nose wrinkled at the compliment. “Cute?”
“Amongst other things,” you added, biting your lip to keep your other thoughts to yourself. 
He grew confident and curled his finger under your chin, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip and pulling it free from your teeth. “You’re beautiful.”
Your lungs refused to work as his head dipped down slowly, giving you time to change your mind. You could still feel the remnants of that thrill in your veins and the charge was electric as you gave into your desire and threw your arms around his neck. The kiss started slowly, hesitation holding you both back as you tasted the chemistry, but it grew deeper as his arms curled around your waist, pulling your bodies flush. 
The track faded away as you spared one last critical thought to teleport back to the hotel room. Charles blinked as he looked around the bedroom, but the surprise turned to a smirk. “That is handy.”
“You can do it too,” you said as your fingers traced the hem of his shirt. “You can just have to picture the image in your mind.”
Cold kissed your skin and you looked down to see your own shirt had disappeared. 
“Holy shit, it worked,” he gasped. “Oh, shit, sorry.”
Your shirt returned in an instant but it was now the same shade of red as his team colours. 
“I wasn’t complaining,” you smirked but the humour dimmed as his hands came to rest on your waist that was still wrapped in red cotton. “We can take it slow, Charles.”
“Is that what you want?”
“I want you, not your regrets. I want you to be ready.” Ready for an eternity together.
Charles sat at the edge of the bed and pulled you onto his lap. “The first thing you should know about me is I have never been good at going slow,” he admitted as he cupped your cheek and crushed his lips to yours.
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holylulusworld · 4 months
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Dinner for two
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Summary: You don’t eat alone this year.  
Pairing: AU!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader
Warnings: angst, grumpy Bucky, fluff, mentions of cheating ex-boyfriend, unnamed ex (you can imagine whoever you want)
Catch up here: Dinner for one
Dinner for … masterlist
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“That was not nice of you, doll,” Bucky holds the door open for you to enter your favorite restaurant. It’s another Friday night and you meet up with Bucky for dinner. “You said it’s a Clint Eastwood film but there were no guns, and he didn’t kill the bad guys.”
“I said it’s a movie with Clint Eastwood. I never said that there would be violence and guns,” you point out. “The Bridges of Madison County is a wonderful movie.“
"They didn’t even end up together.” He huffs but gently grabs your hand. Bucky squeezes it tightly. “A bad ending.”
“No. I mean, yes. They didn’t end up together, but you know that in the end, they loved each other for the rest of their lives. It’s so romantic.” You sigh deeply. 
“Y/N, that’s not romantic,” Bucky grumbles. “It’s not a good ending if they suffer for the rest of their lives because they can’t be together. I don’t like it.”
“Hmm…maybe you are right. I think the movie is about making decisions too, you know. This man, who traveled the world, crashes into her life and sweeps her off of her feet. Her husband is not very attentive, and her kids don’t even let her listen to her music. No wonder she falls for the tall and interesting man.”
“Tall and interesting,” Bucky feels his heart flutter as he guides you toward the table reserved for you and him. “Do you like tall men too?” He pulls the chair for you, waiting for an answer.
“I don’t know,” you answer honestly. “The appearance doesn’t matter to me. I like people because they are…nice.”
“You’re too cute,” he sits on his chair, just like every Friday night to smile at you. “Come on, be honest. What did you like about your last boyfriend?”
You frown and drop your gaze. Talking about your ex-boyfriend is still a sensitive topic for you. “I don’t want to talk about him.”
“Sorry, doll. I shouldn’t have asked. So…uh…what do you like about me?” He reaches out for your hand to stroke your skin with his thumb. “You can be honest with me. We are friends. Right?”
“Best friends,” you hastily say. “I love our Friday night dinners and that you watch stupid movies about unrealistic love stories with me. And I like your eyes. They give away if you are angry, grumpy, or sweet.”
“Sweet?” He smirks. “You think I’m sweet, doll?” Bucky takes your hand to bring it to his lips. “I think you are even sweeter and cute.”
You pout. “I can be bad too. Last week I yelled at my neighbor because he wouldn’t quiet down the music. I was badass.”
“I bet you scared him,” he pecks your hand again. “But that’s not what I wanted to talk about. It’s our first anniversary. One year ago, we had dinner together for the first time.”
“I remember and,” you open your handbag to get a beautifully wrapped gift out, “I got something for you, Bucky. Thank you for being such a good friend, and more. You always make me smile, and cheer me up. If not for you, I’d be eating alone, my teddy bear my only companion. I hope you know that the time we spent together was precious to me.”
“Doll,” Bucky clears his throat. He takes the gift you offer to him. “I got something for you too. I-I don’t know if you will like it, though. It’s just, I can’t keep it a secret for longer.”
“Please open the gift. I hope you’ll like it,” you softly say, and pat his hand. “It’s okay, Bucky. I think I already know.” Your features sadden, and you swallow thickly. 
Whatever Bucky wants to tell you, seems to be important and you want him to remember the time you spent together before he tells you about the woman you saw him with last week.
Bucky unwraps the gift, he gasps and swallows thickly as there is a heart-shaped key in the box. He lifts his eyes from the box to look at you.
“I wanted to give you the key to my heart but…” You wipe your eyes. “I saw you with that beautiful woman and know now, that you don’t feel the same.” You hold up your hand when Bucky wants to say something. “It’s alright, Buck. This is not your fault, but mine.”
“Baby doll,” Bucky almost knocks the chair over when he gets up to hurriedly crouch down in front of you and grasp your hands to pepper kisses on your skin, “that’s not what I wanted to tell you. You’re precious and important to me. That woman was my best friend’s wife, Sharon. I asked her for advice on how to tell you that I want to be more than your friend.”
“More than my friend—” you sniffle while searching his face. “Do you mean it?”
“Yeah,” he rasps. “I know you are still hurting because of that douchebag but I’m willing to wait all my life if only you give me the chance to love you. Because I love you, Y/N.”
You whimper. “I love you too,” you throw yourself at Bucky and press a kiss on his cheek. “So much. I abandoned my bear and told him that you are my best friend and protector now.”
He wraps his arms around you and buries his face in your neck. Bucky held you many times in his arms – but this is the first time after he confessed his feelings. It feels different but wonderful. “Do you still want to eat with me?”
“Of course, Mr. Barnes. I’m starving,” you choke out. You’re a little overwhelmed by your emotions and don’t know what else to say.
“That’s my girl,” he whispers and means it as you hold tight to each other for a little longer. 
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“So, this is our sixth official date,” Bucky states as he looks at the menu. He smirks as you nervously shift in your seat. “Doll, relax. We both know that you can’t do anything wrong. I even let you change my interior.”
“It was awful, and you love your new bedroom,” you tease, and chuckle when his features darken.
“I love what we do in my bedroom,” he flashes you a smirk, making you feel hot and bothered. Bucky has this talent to make you go weak in the knees with only a smile or the look he gives you.
“You mean cuddling.”
“I mean cuddling,” Bucky grins and looks back at the menu. “Hmm…if I want dessert I should start with something lighter tonight. I wanna have a second dessert at home.”
“Bucky,” you say, and look around the restaurant. You don’t want the whole restaurant to know that Bucky is an enthusiastic pussy eater. “Not in public.”
“What?” He feigns innocence and puts his hand on his heart. “I didn’t do anything wrong,” he leans closer to whisper, “or naughty.”
“You’re a naughty man, and you know it.” You both chuckle and reach out for each other’s hand to hold it. “I love you, naughty man.”
“Love you too, doll,” his features soften again, and you see the Bucky only you get to see. The soft and caring man behind his stoic demeanor and grumpy attitude. “Now, what do you want to eat.”
“Y/N? Y/N Y/L/N?” 
Bucky is alerted the moment you stiffen and your smile fades. “Baby doll, is everything okay? Is something wrong?”
“I knew it was you,” the man breaking your heart almost two years ago dares to step toward your table. “You look, wow…great.” He flashes you the brightest smile that used to make your heart race. Now there is no reaction. All you do is huff and shake your head. 
“Hello,” you coolly reply. “How have you been? I thought you were still in Tokyo and trying to conquer the world.”
“Aw, baby,” the woman he left you for joins your unwelcome reunion, “you didn’t tell me you met some friends.” She stiffens as her eyes land on you. “Oh, it’s you…”
“Bucky, may I introduce my ex-boyfriend and the woman he cheated on me with to you,” you put on a fake smile. “They were about to leave us alone so we could enjoy our date night.”
“Date night?” Your ex splutters. He looks at you as if you lost your mind. In his fantasy, you never get over him and live a lonely life.
“Yes, date night,” Bucky slowly gets up from his chair. He’s an impressive sight when angry. He squares his jaw and offers his hand to your ex. “I’m James Buchanan Barnes,” Bucky smirks darkly as your ex furrows his brows. “If you would excuse us now, me and my lovely fiancé want to dine and enjoy our night. I believe you have plans too.”
“Yes…we are…you know…busy,” your former best friend stammers. She grabs your ex’s hand and leads him away from your table.
“You little shit lied straight to his face,” you snicker. “I didn’t get the memo. Since when are we engaged?”
Bucky shrugs. “I’m planning a spring wedding, doll. So, if you have time let’s plan a wedding,” he casually says and looks back at the menu. “What do you say?”
“I’m all for chicken parmesan, but you can eat whatever you want,” you smile to yourself as your boyfriend nervously shifts in his seat.
“That’s not what I meant, Y/N.”
“Hmm…” You nod thoughtfully. “I think May is the perfect season for a wedding. It’s warm, but not too hot.”
Bucky takes your hand to press a chaste kiss on your skin. “I promise to never hurt you like he did. You are the one for me and I’ll prove it every day of my life.”
Final Part: Dinner for three
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Tags in reblog.
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kiankiwi · 8 months
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Hi everybody! I just wanted to tell you what I've got in the drafts that I'm currently writing or GOING TO START so you look forward to some pieces:
Aus who got high at a cast party and now we gotta pick him up and take care of him until he sobers up
OQW Heat Exhaustion Sickfic
CG!reader x CG!Elvis taking care of Little!aus
Little Aus needs a nap so he's cranky on the set of the YSL fragrance Ad
Constipated little!E
SO MANY MORE!!!
If you see one you want to focus on over the others, feel free to let me know. Also, let me know if you're excited for any of these?
@elvisthesillygoose @mooodyblue
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daedelweiss · 11 months
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NEW MASTERPOST✨
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first up: Life Mission: Save My Brothers (Comic) 🌟
"Life Mission: Save My Brothers" is a Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles separated AU (alternate universe) where it explores on the concept that Splinter saved only one turtle after the mutation process: Leo. The other turtles are separated in the world: Raph was brought to and raised by Big Mama to be a Battle Nexus Champion, Mikey was taken by Draxum and trained to become a warrior to combat humans for the Yokai to take over the surface, and Donnie was thought to be dead but was taken in by a mob until he ran away and found Big Mama at the age of 7. Their story involves their process of finding out that they are not alone, that they have family, and how they reunite and become the ninjas they were always meant to be.
THE COMIC:
THE RED KNIGHT'S ARC Episode 1: The Buried Memory
SET 1 (Beginning of Episode)
SET 2
SET 3
SET 4 (End of Episode)
Episode 2: Found Alone (Coming Soon)
WEBSITE 🌟 SPOTIFY PLAYLIST YOUTUBE PLAYLIST
TRAILER:
youtube
TAGS: rottmnt life mission AU, life mission AU, life mission comic
more AUs under the cut 💖
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Quiet Your Mind (Fanfic) 🌌
15 years into the Krang invasion and everything is going south: food was running low, everyone had to take multiple shifts in multiple jobs, and almost everyone is missing a family member. Mikey's mystic powers haven't developed fully and Donnie's and Leo's were dwindling. There was one way to regain that power, one way to turn the tide to their favor, and, possibly, save the twins' bond.
The cost? Silence.
TAGS: rottmnt quiet your mind, quiet your mind
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Pieces of Home 🌊
"Pieces of Home" is an original TMNT iteration where Donnie is the oldest, followed by his twin Raph, their middle sibling Mikey, the youngest turtle Leo, and their little sister April. The turtles were all once human and lived a happy, normal life until one day, a mysterious person cursed them with a green, magical liquid that burnt away their human bodies and mutated them to half turtles. Their father, Splinter, was mutated to a rat and his husband was never seen since. 12 years later, Leo ventures to the surface despite his oldest brother's wishes and finds secrets about his other father. Their journey begins when they discover who he was and when they receive gifts he left them.
(More about the iteration coming soon...)
TAGS: my tmnt, tmnt: pieces of home, pieces of home AU
Links to my other socials can be found in the bottom of the Life Mission website ✨
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sugaryplum · 5 months
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our sweater
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pairing: theodore nott x reader (didn't use any pronouns or looks description) summary: it's the third of december and sweaters look better on the floor. warnings: sexy times briefly mentioned, language mistakes. the obviously referenced song is out in the universe in this, so you could stretch it to be a modern!au? this is mostly just dialogue, i should just start writing movie scripts or something. writing dialogues is my favourite thing in the world. + you guys seemed to like it last time hehe <3 notes: it is not the third of december. but how dare you bring it up. oh and i’m back, sorry i disappeared for a month? i was busy doing literally nothing.
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“so when are you gonna give me that sweater?” you’re laying upside down on theo’s bed, legs up against the wall. he doesn’t even look up from the desk, just muttering a quiet “what?” your way.
“it’s the third of december.” to your satisfaction, he turns his chair to face you. or at least your body, bent in the weird pose out of boredom. you’re not sure if his confused expression is because of that, or because of the the sweater question out of nowhere. either way, you smile and start singing, slightly off key, with a closed fist close to your mouth to imitate a microphone. “i still remember the third of december! me and your sweater, you said it looked better…”
“it does look better on you.” you’re interrupted.
you tilt your head slightly. “obviously.”
after a second or two, he smirks, you can almost see his teeth. “i wonder how it’d look on my floor.” the words are quiet, muffled with a chuckle. you raise your eyebrows in disbelief and turn your head to him, silent, amused.
“i do have a lot of floor space…” he starts again.
your eye roll is an enough of an answer.
“i think your sweater would look great on it.”
“oh, so it’s my sweater now?” you grin, looking almost proud of yourself for catching the word. it’s his turn to roll his eyes.
“when it ends up on my floor it will be mine again.”
“so end up on your floor shall not.”
“it will, eventually.” his legs move from the floor and cross, stretched out on the edge of the bed. you look at the ceiling for a second, and then at him again. “so the question is how?”
“in many ways it could happen…”
“do enlighten me.”
he sighs and pauses. “me removing the sweater for example.”
“removing it from me?”
“yes.”
“it’s getting interesting.” you shift in your place, completely changing the position. your legs are stretched out in front of you, your ankles laying on theo’s calves. “what then?”
“i would put it on my floor.” he says matter–of–factly. when you chuckle, he adds. “and you would get cold.” you nod. his eyes are locked in yours and after a pause, his squint slightly. “i like it when you’re cold. makes you rely on me.”
you chuckle, raising your eyebrows again. “it’s good this year’s winter is quite warm.”
“then it's lucky i turned down the heating. hope you can manage.”
you laugh out loud this time. he laughs too. when laughs turn to smiles, still looking at each other, you take a moment to appreciate his face. noticing every pretty detail, every part of his cheeks, his nose, his chin, his lips. his expression, you rarely see him looking at anyone or anything else like this.
you sigh with a smile. “i like our sweater.”
“our?”
“you called it mine. and i don’t see it on your floor. but i’m willing to call it ours, as a compromise. look how good of a soul i am.”
“the sweater is mine. i meant i allowed you to wear it.”
“so why do i not have it now? it’s the third of december, need i remind you.”
he sighs and bents down, far to the side, refusing to leave the chair. he reaches his wardrobe, barely, and takes out a brown sweater. before you process, it’s thrown at you. you just know he aimed at your head, messing up your hair on purpose.
it’s slightly crumpled, but it smells like him, so you don’t mind. you would never mind.
you put it on, smiling proudly, goal accomplished. he rolls his eyes and breaks a smile.
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enkas-illusion · 4 months
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A Good Daddy
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Fandom / Pairing: Jujutsu Kaisen / Gojo Satoru x f!reader
Rating: NSFW/Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Genre/Theme: Established relationship/marriage; non-sorcery au
Content warning: fluff, light angst, smut, oral (f.receiving), piv sex, bondage, dom!gojo, sub!reader, brat taming, overstimulation, pregnancy kink, unprotected sex, explicit sexual content, language.
Summary: Husband!Gojo with a pregnancy kink. When he sees you babysitting your close friend’s baby and can’t get the idea of seeing you with a baby bump, carrying his child, out of his head.
Author's Note: Satoru would be such a great dad and you can’t convince me otherwise! The kids are sure to be his exact clones, trusting him with their life cause they know their daddy is just that great 🥹🥹🥹. Daddy Gojo has taken over my brain and is manspreading on my thoughts! As always, I hope you enjoy this one shot. Thank you for reading! 
~ Eren’s Birdie
Song Dedication: Married Life (from UP) by Michael Giacchino / Daddy’s Home by USHER (aka Gojo theme™)
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“Sup, how's it hanging? Long time no see,” you say coolly as you see your husband walking out of the kitchen towards you.
You have your knitting kit in hand, body nestling into the soft cushions of the sofa, belly feeling like it’s about to burst after the delicious dinner you just had. 
Satoru lifts your feet up before resting them on his lap as he sits on the opposite end of the sofa. He's massaging your feet with utmost care.
“Where do I even begin?! A lot has happened since we last saw each other about 10 minutes ago. I washed the dishes!” He sighs, raising his eyebrows in an exaggerated manner while his palm presses flat on the bottom of your foot to stretch your achilles tendon, melting the stiffness away, “And what about you? How have you been, stranger?”
You hold the half knitted lavender patch up to show it to him, “I am making a beanie for Hina. It's getting colder so I figured she'd have a cute little warm beanie to go on her cute little head.” 
Satoru crinkles his nose at this before confessing, “Cute. Do we need to babysit her anytime soon again? I miss the little devil.”
“‘Toru, I doubt Rin and Kento go out without their baby that often,” you let out a breathy laugh when he massages the top of your foot with a soothing firmness.
“Maybe we should make one of our own then I'll miss her less,” Satoru pouts, trying to test the waters carefully to see if it was the right chance to bring up the topic. Afterall, it's what he had been thinking about the entire week.
The baby in question was 8 months old Hina, your best friend's baby. The couple rarely went out ever since they had the baby – so the handful of times that Rin and her husband Kento needed a babysitter, you’d happily volunteered, not minding it ruining your Saturday night plans.
And although Satoru would pout at this each time, he secretly didn’t mind taking care of the toddler with you. It almost felt like a ‘trial’ run for when you’d have your own kids in the future – mini versions of you and him. And so he looked forward to babysitting little Hina as he got glimpses of the motherly side of you.
Your husband knew that you wanted to wait a while before you made the huge decision of bringing a child into this world and he was on the same page… until recently. He knew he was having a change of heart on the matter when his daydreams of seeing you with a baby bump started to spiral out of control over the last month.
What broke the camel’s back was an incident from a week ago – when he’d rushed out of the room to tell you he’d won a game of Counter-Strike against Suguru, you’d gently motioned him to be quiet, cradling the sleeping baby in your lap. He silently made his way to you when he saw the baby was clutching a strand of your hair in her sleep. Since you couldn’t move, he took it on himself to free your hair from the toddler’s strong grip. But just as he did that, Hina wrapped her tiny fingers around his thumb, holding it tightly in her sleep. When he looked up at you, you smiled at him with your loving eyes – it was when he’d decided that he wanted to impregnate you asap.
He had trouble falling asleep that night. You, on the other hand, were sleeping peacefully, after fulfilling your duty as the babysitter diligently. You’d wished Satoru goodnight right after handing Hina over to her parents, who’d returned from their date well into the night, leaving no opportunity for your husband to bring up the topic. 
With much difficulty when he did manage to fall asleep, he’d woken up sweating profusely at the wet dream he had where he came inside you instead of pulling out as per usual. He turned to his side trying his best to control his urges to recreate his dream as he slid his hand up under your tshirt to play with your soft nipples, making you stir in your sleep.
“Wifey… let’s make a baby,” he’d whispered, peppering your neck with soft kisses. You mumbled something incoherent as you turned to wrap your arm around his waist, still deep asleep. He sighed as he pulled his hand away, forcing himself to fall asleep, convincing himself that it was just his horny fantasies talking.
Oh how wrong he was! Here he was, a week later, baby fever running higher than ever. 
You look up from the knitting hooks, before giggling, “Yeah, right…”
“Love, I’m serious,” he mumbles, bringing your left leg up to his face to kiss your foot.
“‘Toru, why are you springing this on me so suddenly? You agreed we'd wait a while…” you sigh as you begin, sitting up as you pull your feet away from his hold.
“Yes but–”
“Satoru… we just got married. We need to get used to our married life first. We need to be with each other before we decide to bring a whole new being into this world,” you explain softly, telling him things he already knew.
“But technically, we've been together for almost 6 years now, I say we're beyond ready,” he protests.
“No, I doubt we're mature enough for the responsibility,” you retort.
“But imagine mini versions of us two running around the house,” he places his hands on your feet once again, pleading with a twinkle in his eyes akin to a kid begging for candy at a store.
“Please! My genes won't even fight, our baby will look like you,” you laugh.
“Then we can just make another one,” he says in a playful tone.
“Well… I have a feeling both of our babies will end up looking like you,” you roll your eyes at him.
“Then what about the next 2?” he says hopefully.
“Next 2? ONLY 2!” you scold him softly. He raises an eyebrow at you and you give him a calculated reasoning, “Just so that they have someone they share an unbreakable bond with and aren't lonely while growing up.”
“Exactly! I say the more the merrier!” he squeezes your feet in excitement.
“Satoru, I'm not a baby machine!” you slide your leg to his lap to nudge his thigh jokingly, “Besides, counting you I'd have 3 babies anyway.”
“Now you're just coming up with whatever excuses,” he snickers, slapping your foot away before shuffling to sit closer to you.
“Oh really?” you furrow your eyebrows as you sit up completely in front of him, sensing the conversation taking a serious turn. You place the knitting yarn and hook to the side on the coffee table.
“Yes really,” he kisses your temple to dissolve the wrinkle there. He always does that whenever you seem annoyed at him as he knows it never fails to make you giggle instantly. However, you simply fold your arms over your chest and give him a stern look.
“No… don’t do this. Talk to me Satoru, I’m serious…” you speak and he drops the playful act, nodding and signalling you to put your point across before he gets his chance to speak.
You sigh as you begin, “You’re the love of my life and I don't doubt for a second that you'd be an amazing father with time but I also believe you don't have the attention span or patience that taking care of a newborn requires, at least for now.”
“Are you being serious right now?” he folds his hands over his chest, sitting up straight.
The crinkle on your forehead fades as you try to find the best words to explain your point to your husband without seeming too harsh, “I'm sorry love, I'm not trying to be mean. I'm just saying… for example, when I was trying to get Hina to sleep, you were screaming at your xbox each time something happened. It made her wake up a few times before she finally fell asleep–”
“You should’ve told me, I would’ve tried to be quiet,” he pouts, slumping and leaning back on the sofa.
“‘Toru… I literally called your phone since I couldn’t yell at you but you were too busy with your game to notice.”
“You know I don't play everyday– okay, if it’s just that, I don’t see a problem. I can change that habit,” he says with a determined look on his face.
“Baby, I'm not trying to change you. But you have to realise that things change drastically when there’s a baby involved, whether you want them to or not,” you explain and he can tell you’re tired by the way your voice sounds. You bring your hand up to rub your temple, letting out a deep exhale.
He dips his head low, mumbling something along the lines of ‘but I'd be a good dad.’
“You tried to feed her chocolate saying she loved the taste! You're not supposed to feed them stuff like that till they're like… one! I don’t think you’re ready for such a huge responsibility just yet,” The tone of your voice is strict, a little louder than you’d like it to be and you already feel guilty at raising your voice at him.
He opens his mouth as if to say something but then shuts it back again. “What is it?” you urge him to speak.
“Nothing… it’s alright, I get it. You don't want me to be the father of your babies,” He mutters as he tries getting up. You grab his wrist to stop him from leaving, giving him a ‘you know that's not true’ look.
He sighs as he sits back down, “Okay maybe what you're saying is kinda true. I don't know much about babies besides the fact that they're like cute mini humans. But I can learn, you know? No one has a manual on how to be the best father but I know I will give it my 100%”
When he sees a faint smile return to your face, it encourages him to continue to convince you, “Maybe I might surprise you. Remember when you first thought I wasn't the type to take aftercare seriously but then you told me how surprised you were when I made you feel good during and after our first time?”
“Yeah,” you blush at him, rolling your eyes playfully, “You are good at that.”
“So let me show you baby… I’ll prove it to you, I'll be the best daddy,” He leans his weight on your body, trapping you between the cushions to kiss you. You wrap your arms around his neck, moaning into his mouth when his hands play with your breasts from over your t-shirt. 
When he dips his face down to your neck, sucking you where he knows will have you putty in his hand, you take a shaky breath, biting your lip at the sensation.
“Can’t wait to fill you up with my cum– gonna make your pretty belly swell,” he whispers as his head moves down, lifting up your t-shirt along with your bra to expose your chest before latching his mouth onto one of your hardened buds.
You bring your hands down to place them firmly on his chest as you push him away lightly, letting out a heavy sigh. Satoru stops as he moves back up to look into your eyes, eyebrows knitted.
You simply let out another sigh as you break eye contact to look to the side. He waits for you to speak but when the moment passes, he pulls away completely. You pull your t-shirt down and fix your bra quietly, actively avoiding his gaze.
“I'm going to bed, night,” he mumbles, getting up off the sofa to retire to the bedroom without waiting for your reply. He didn't kiss you good night, he almost never does that unless he's really upset. But why can't he understand where you're coming from?
Can't you understand where he’s coming from?
You close your eyes briefly as you slump onto the sofa. You rest one arm on your forehead as your head starts going into overthinking mode. However, your train of thought is broken before it can reach a destination when your phone vibrates in your pocket. You pull it out lazily as you open the text you’d just received from Rin.
You download the picture and your heart flutters when you see that it’s a photo of Satoru holding baby Hina in a loving embrace. It’s a picture taken on your wedding day, your husband’s crisp white shirt wrinkled by the way he’s holding the baby and smiling at her lovingly. She must’ve been barely 2 months old at the wedding. You can’t help but smile at the photo, your heart aching when you remember that the same man is sleeping in the other room, upset with you. You’re pulled out of your thoughts once again when your phone rings.
Rin:
Look how cute this is! I never knew I had this in my phone!
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“Did you see the picture? Aren’t they the cutest? I was just telling Kento about how I wish you guys should have a baby soon. It’d make Hina a big sister,” your friend squeals. You laugh back at her but it’s due to the absurdity of her timing.
“Seriously, I’d love to see Satoru being a dad,” she adds when you don’t say anything.
You laugh again, “Right, that makes it the two of you.”
“What do you mean?” she asks.
“I mean that Satoru and I just had a small disagreement about this,” you press your hand to your temple, massaging it. 
Rin stays quiet for a moment before you hear her speak again, “Do you remember that day? He had taken off his suit coat, not because he was worried Hina would spoil it, but because he thought the fabric of his shirt was softer for her to rest her head on.”
You nod, not realising she can’t see you, before you reply with a quiet ‘hmm’.
“All I’m saying is that I know you fear him being too easy going, but Satoru is a serious guy, he knows when to take responsibility diligently,” your friend continues, reminding you of the things you already know and adore about your man. 
You almost tear up – you'd been overthinking this so much that you forgot to acknowledge Satoru for the man that he is. Of course he'd be a great dad!
Even if Rin hears you sniff, she doesn’t comment on it. Instead she asks, “Oh by the way, do you have her blue binky?”
“Huh?”
“It must be at your place. I can't find it here and Hina’s been raising hell cause it's one of her favourites,” Rin explains.
“Oh, just a min–” You look around the sofa, digging your hands into the creases and corners in hopes of finding it. 
“It's here!” you exclaim but your smile fades as you observe the tiny object in your hand, a realisation hitting you with the speed of lightning.
You had been projecting. Sure, having a baby was going to be hard but you were worried about being a bad mother more than Satoru being a bad father. Taking care of a growing life, who’s primarily dependent on you for everything, requires a lot of patience. Making sure your tiny human receives everything it deserves isn’t an easy task at all times. 
Yet, despite all of this, if there’s one thing you knew without a speck of doubt, it was that you wouldn’t want to do it with anyone else but the love of your life, Gojo Satoru. You're brought back to reality, breaking from your ruminations when you hear your friend’s voice calling your name once again.
“Sorry… hey– let me call you back?” you mumble.
“Sure, take care. Good night. See you tomorrow,” your friend speaks softly before hanging up. 
You drop your phone on the sofa as you get up to make your way to the bedroom. When you walk in, you find Satoru sleeping on his side, his back turned to you.
“Baby, are you asleep?” you speak softly. He doesn't respond but you know he's awake – he can never fall asleep when he's lying on his right side.
Shit, he’s really mad.
You quietly strip off your sweatpants and t-shirt, leaving you only in your bra and underwear before hopping on the bed to get closer to your husband.
“‘Toru, my love,” you coo softly as you kiss his cheek from behind. He turns to look at you, poker face on. You catch his eyes wandering down to your cleavage briefly but he doesn’t break his composure nonetheless.
You lean forward to press your chest against his, kissing him on the lips but he's annoyingly stiff. You sit back up as you pout at him.
“Please don't be mad at me baby,” you murmur as your fingers draw lazy circles over the expanse of his chest. Just as you move your hand down his torso, dangerously closer to his crotch, he grabs your wrist and flips your bodies so that you’re trapped under him.
Your giggles come to an abrupt halt and you bite your lip when you feel his hips press against you, fully aware of his evidently erect bulge.
“And why shouldn't I be mad at you?” He mocks, bringing his right hand up to your neck, his long fingers gripping the sides firmly.
“Because you love me?” You pout as you bat your eyelashes at him. He lets out a dry chuckle as his fingers choke you lightly.
“Not enough. Gotta try harder than that baby.”
“I'm sorry, ‘Toru… maybe you can forgive the mother of your future children,” you bring a hand up to caress his cheek.
“Hmm… should I?” He says, adding a bit more pressure. When you let out a quiet gasp, he dips his head down to kiss your parted lips hungrily. Your breathing gets heavier as his tongue explores your mouth, the sloppy wetness of your salivas mixing together making your pussy throb in excitement. Your hands move up to his hair, tugging at his blonde locks.
You whimper into his mouth when he bites your lower lip, pulling it out before releasing it with a soft plop. His grip on your throat releases as his hand slides underneath to unclasp your bra before hastily taking it off and tossing it aside.
You cup his face so that he’s looking into your eyes when you speak. His demeanour almost collapses at what you say next.
“Satoru… don’t pull out. Please fuck a baby into me,” you say timidly, the heat in your cheeks rising. He knows that you know just how much your words get to him and use it to your advantage often – usually he’d let you but this time, he doesn't want to let you have your way with him just yet. He wants to toy with you for a bit first.
“Maybe I've changed my mind?” he says with a smug look on his face. Your hands move down to his hips, hooking into the band of his sweatpants to push them down along with his underwear to his thighs, freeing his dick from its restraints. You lift your hips up to feel his hard on against your core. 
“I doubt,” you bite back, deceitful innocence in your eyes, “...but I could just go to sleep if you're not up for it.”
Your husband lets out a low chuckle as he grabs your jaw firmly, shaking his head at you, “You're not going anywhere until I'm done with you.”
In an attempt to rile him up further, you decide to mock him as you repeat his words in a condescending tone, “You're not going anywhere until– AHH!”
Big mistake.
Within a second Satoru flips you over till you're lying on your stomach, caging you in place with his knees dipping into the mattress on either side of you. He leans back to pull your underwear off and your heart picks up its pace when he grabs both your wrists to tie them behind your back with the flimsy fabric in a tight, makeshift knot.
He pushes your head into the pillow before landing a rough slap on your ass. He kneads the skin right after to soothe the stinging sensation.
“‘Toru–” you whimper. He ignores your pleading voice, simply tapping two fingers over your ass. You know what he wants and you obey immediately, lifting your hips up off the mattress. He folds your thighs further in till your back is arched with your ass up in the air, on display for him.
“You know what happens when you act bratty,” he kneads your asscheeks with both of his hands before clawing at the flesh. You push back in response and he laughs, “... or maybe you’re just a masochist.”
He lands another sharp spank, causing you to let out a tiny sob into the pillow. 
“Tell me what you want baby,” he teases. Your head turns to the side, hoping to catch a glimpse of his face behind you but your movement’s restricted, rendering your attempts useless.
If there’s one thing that Satoru claims to lose his mind over is the look in your eyes. He often calls your eyes his ‘weakness’, confessing he’d do anything you ask of him when you look at him with those fucked out eyes during sex. So for him to take away his weakness, typically with a blindfold, is when you know you’re really fucked.
“Didn’t you have a lot to say just now, love?” he mocks and you feel two fingers glide over your exposed cunt. You sigh at the sensation, letting out soft moans when his fingers begin to play with your folds.
“‘Toru– more,” you beg and he slides two fingers inside you. You hum in pleasure but huff when you’re reminded of the annoyance of being restricted each time you try to move your arms.
His movements are excruciatingly slow and it’s making you lose your mind and patience. You try to chase his touch, failing miserably at getting him to push his fingers deeper inside you. Satoru lets out a condescending chuckle at your poor attempt, “Are you really that desperate for me baby?”
You huff and you’re about to complain but it turns into broken moans when he starts pumping his fingers into you – the squelching sound of your pussy blending with drawn out cries of his name.
“Aww, does my wife like it when I do this?” he teases, curving his fingers inside to rub your walls, massaging a particular spot that has you begging him for more. Your thighs tremble and your pussy flutters around his fingers. “Guess she really does!” you hear him squeal before he pulls his fingers out completely, depriving you of all contact within a second.
“Satoru! S– stop being so mean!” you scold him with shallow breaths.
“Satoru! Stop being so mean!” he laughs as he mocks you, his fingers lightly grazing over your folds.
“Baby… pl–please, I’m sorry,” you cry, desperate for his touch.
“What for, baby?” he nudges further, his finger inching towards your clit.
“For teasing you– mmh,” you whimper when he rubs over the bundle of nerves.
“But that’s not why I’m mad…”
“‘Toru please–”
“Yes?” he sings.
“Fuc– I’m sorry… I was wrong, you’ll be a great dad– ahh,” you squeeze your eyes shut when he pinches your clit.
“That’s it,” he coos softly and you feel him come up behind you to kiss your shoulder, “was that so hard, baby?” he moves down to bite one of your tied wrists, moving further down to kiss the skin over your tailbone. You feel his fingers dig into your ass, pulling the flesh apart before diving his face down as he begins lapping at your cunt with a brutal pace. 
Your ass jerks up at the sudden touch and he continues his ministrations, alternating between sucking your clit and licking down till his tongue’s dipping inside your hole, wiggling it in. You twist your wrists, feeling the urge to grab at something, anything to steady yourself, yet it’s a futile attempt.
“Toru– too much,” your tears wetting the pillow as you feel your legs shake, threatening to collapse at any moment. Satoru is quick to sit up straight and you feel his shuffling movement behind you and see him toss the bundle of his clothes to the side before settling behind you once again, wedging his knees between yours to spread them wider. He taps his swollen tip over your folds, rubbing it back and forth to coat it with your wet slick. 
Your eyes roll to the back of your head when you feel him push the tip in, splitting your walls to adjust to his length. Once he’s completely buried inside you, he grips the side of your hips to support you, “Gonna fill you up so good baby.”
“Oh god– Sa–toru–” you howl when he pulls almost his entire length out before thrusting back into you. When his pace builds up, your body jerks slightly forward due to the force of his thrusts. His grip on your sides tightens as he pulls your hips back to slam you back against him.
The sound of your skin slapping fills the air along with both of your moans and groans. When you wiggle your wrists again in a desperate attempt, the knot loosens just enough for you to wring your wrist free. You bring one hand down to support your weight while the other moves behind you to claw at his forearm.
Satoru hisses at the sudden contact as he twists your wrist, holding it against your lower back while his other hand snakes around your throat, pulling you back till you’re sitting up flush against his chest. His other hand hooks around your waist as he starts bouncing your torso up and down on his dick at the same time he slams up into you.
You free the hand behind your back to pull his face closer while twisting your neck to look back, kissing him frantically, the wet trail of your tears smudging and transferring onto his skin. 
At a particularly rough thrust, Satoru’s knee slides slightly, making his balance stumble a bit. He lets out a breathy ‘fuck’ as he pulls out abruptly. 
“‘Toru?”
“Shhh–” he orders as he grips your waist tightly to pull you down till you both are lying down on your left side, his chest pressed against your back. He adjusts his position to hook your legs around his, opening you up wider for him as he brings his hand down to guide his dick back near your entrance to shove it in your swollen hole. 
His hand is shaky as he brings it to your clit to rub circles as he resumes thrusting into you ruthlessly once again. You cry his name out loud at how good this new motion hits and he bites your shoulder. You know he’s close by how erratic his thrusts get.
His other arm that is placed beneath you comes up to pinch your nipples, the added stimulation is too intense for you as you feel the muscles in your stomach tighten more than they already have. His nose buries in the crook of your neck as his lips bite your skin harshly. When he starts sucking on your favourite spot behind your ear, it causes goosebumps to rise all over your body.
You claw at his biceps as you turn your head back to look at him. He looks so fucked out and the fact that he gets this way only for you is what overwhelms your senses even further.
“Fuck–” his eyebrows knit as he leans down to kiss you. You feel your body twitch as the knot in your stomach gets tighter and tighter before letting go completely, causing your walls to pulse around his cock as you reach your orgasm.
Your moans are swallowed by his kisses and your grip on his locks loosens. When you break away from the kiss to catch your breath, you stare at his face and your eyebrows knit when you see the way a string of saliva connects your lips with his. Your chest heaves as you look into his eyes and you can tell he’s close. 
“Fuck– fuck– shi–” he grunts as he shuts his eyes, biting your shoulder once again and you feel him shoot his load inside, painting your walls. With broken thrusts, he slows down before stopping completely. He stays inside you for a few seconds before pulling out and shutting your legs close to keep his cum from spilling out.
You let out a tired laugh at this as you close your eyes, suddenly feeling hyper aware of everything that had just transpired, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes. He readjusts your position so that you’re lying flat on your back, while he moves on top of you till his head is resting on the valley of your breasts. 
You open your eyes when you feel him tug at your wrist and you see him free it from your underwear that was still hanging limply there. As he holds the fabric up, you see that the elasticity of its band had been completely destroyed. You see red marks on your wrist where it was secured tightly. Satoru pulls your hand down to kiss your wrist, mumbling a ‘sorry’ and turning his head to kiss your other wrist.
You simply hum as you close your eyes again, calming your breathing and nerves. You feel him rub circles over your stomach before moving down to kiss you over your belly button. He brings both his hands up to intertwine his fingers with yours, peppering soft kisses all over your stomach.
“So… care to explain what changed your mind so quickly?” he asks.
You nod as you slowly open your eyes, gulping as you look down to meet his gaze. He moves up till he’s at your eye level, expectantly waiting for your answer, pinning your hands to the sides of your head.
You bite your lip nervously as you begin, “Sorry for insinuating that you’d be a bad father. It wasn’t my intention – I just got scared. I know you’ll be a great papa, I don’t doubt it for a second…” you look away to avoid his gaze, “... sorry for projecting my insecurities onto you– I’m just worried if I’d be able to be a good mom.”
“Baby… you’re so smart, yet sometimes you say the dumbest shit,” he chuckles softly as he brings one hand up to cup your face, “I’ve seen the way you take care of Hina… seeing you be so kind and loving is what made me go crazy about wanting our own babies. I want kids because I’d get to be a parent with you… so that you can be the mother of my children. Don’t go thinking about crazy hypotheticals like that!”
“Hmm, thank you baby. But taking care of Hina is easy when it’s only for a couple of hours at a time. Having our own baby will be like a full time job. I listen to the way Rin sometimes jokes that she doesn’t even have time alone with Kento cause she’s so tired oft–”
“Hey, hey… breathe,” Satoru interrupts you, resting his forehead against yours and your face relaxes as you close your eyes, taking deep breaths. “Even if all of that is true, you have me with you. I’m not leaving your side even for a second, my love. We’re in this together. Taking care of our baby and his pretty mommy is my responsibility and I’m gonna do it right.”
You feel the tears well up in your eyes as you look up at him and he smiles softly at you, “I love you.”
You tilt your head slightly to kiss him before speaking, “I love you so much Satoru. I wouldn’t want to have anyone else’s baby.”
“Oh thank goodness! Wanting a baby only with your husband is the ideal thing after all,” he laughs breathily and you slap his chest lightly. 
“Besides, I think we’ll be ready by the time I actually conceive. I’ve heard that it takes a few months for some couples, so who knows, right?” you think out loud.
“Please,” he snickers, “I’ve got the best swimmers, there’s no way in hell you won’t be pregnant after tonight…”
You giggle as you pull him down till he’s lying on top of you completely like your own personal weighted blanket.
He nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, “... but just to be sure, let’s go another round… make it certain.”
“‘Toru! I’m tired” you laugh as you try to pull him off of you but he continues kissing down your neck. You close your eyes at how sensitive your skin feels against his kisses.
“Then just lie down. I’ll do all the work, princess,” your husband winks at you before circling his tongue around one of your already hardened nipples. 
You hum contentedly as you rest your head back down, melting into the pillow and accepting your fate – you were going to have to run on very little sleep tomorrow.
~fin~
669 notes · View notes
kingtomura · 4 months
Text
Good Girl
Summary: It’s not your fault that your boyfriend was hard for people to warm up to. God, your parents are so lame. But so were you. So you did what anyone else with strict parents would, and you cut him off. 
Bad idea. 
Word count: 4k
part two is here!
Content: Tomura Shigaraki x female reader, explicit content, kinda quiet sex, cunnilingus, praise, slight humiliation, unprotected sex, strict parents, toxic relationship with parents, AU - no quirks, no use of y/n, gets a little mushy at the end im sorry
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You would rather be anywhere else but here. You would pay to be anywhere else but right here, right now being scolded like some teenager who had been caught sneaking out after curfew. But you were here and you weren’t going anywhere any time soon. 
“He’s just not good for you,” your father’s voice stressed. It dragged on, pulling you from your drifting thoughts. “You have so much ahead of you and we even agreed to this gap year so that you could figure out what you wanted to do, not so you could run around with some delinquent boy with no future–”
“He‘s not a delinquent,” You cut off, “you’re judging him without even giving him a chance.”
Your father sighs, knowing he’s fighting a losing battle, but knowing you inherited his stubbornness has never detoured him from taking your objections head on. He’s been on this earth longer than you, butting heads with others longer than you have. “Well, whatever he is, he’s not allowed to see you again. That’s final.” he says with a shrug of his shoulders. False air of nonchalance sending fury through your veins. 
There would be no more arguing and you knew it. You desperately look to your mother, who is in her usual stance of resignation and uselessness when it comes to his word. If she saw things your way, she would never say. And even if she agreed with you, there would be no change. It has always been your father’s way or no way. 
“I’m an adult, you can't tell me who I can and can’t see.” you try once more, not ready to end things here. It’s suffocating. 
He scoffs, bringing a hand up to count his fingers, “You live under our roof, you eat our food, you drive our car, you give me attitude when I agree to give you time to figure out your life when you decided to leave university after two semesters,” his voice is rising and you begin to feel your eyes burn with the threat of tears, your chest tightening as its harder to catch a breath. You can’t cry here, it would only make things worse.  “I don’t think it matters how old you are. I am done with this conversation. End things with him now or you won't have a pot to piss in by the end of the day.” 
This cannot be happening. You're still sat on the plush sofa of the living room as your father stalks off with your mother in tow. The latter only glancing back with an empty look of pity as you stare at where your father had just been. Words burned into your mind while hot tears finally break and run down your cheeks. This is really happening.
And Tomura was going to be upset.
In a perfect world you could meet up with him tonight, talk it over, or even run away together and leave all this behind, but you know better. You know the two of you haven’t dated long enough to warrant running away together, but it still crosses your mind. You’ve never felt this way about anyone before and it's painful to think you never will again. Tomura just made you feel so.. Alive. There was so much to him and his witty dry humor that keeps pulling you in. 
He’s cynical, he’s moody and sometimes he’s mean but god he could be so soft. Touch you in ways that felt like he reached your soul. Quiet nights where you would stay at his house and watch him play video games would turn into late night sessions of making love until the twilight of dawn peeked through the dark curtains of his room. There was no way you could let him go. But you had to. You had to. Your father had given you no other choice. So you take the coward’s way out.
You text him.
You send him a short text that would send you to the bathroom dry heaving, but you didn’t know what else to do. What more could you say other than your father had snapped at you and you both could no longer be together. It would hurt so much more facing him head on. You knew that if you had to speak to him face to face that you would crack, probably throw out your silly idea of running away together and then face the awkward rejection. This was all you could manage. You felt awful for it, finally forcing yourself off of the floor and dragging your feet to the bathroom to get ready for bed. 
It had been hours and there was no response from Tomura. You couldn't blame him. What could anyone say to a break up text? You hollowly hoped he would fight for you. Even a little. But the flat Read 14:57 showed you otherwise. This had now become a heartbreak you werent quite expecting. You couldn’t help but second guess every interaction you had with him before. If maybe you read into things a little too deeply. If maybe, some smaller, quieter part of you dreaded your father was right.
There was no use of dwelling on that now. No point in running through what you would never know. So, you sighed, and finished up in the bathroom. Slipping on your silk sleeping gown that stopped above your knees and adjusted the small straps on your shoulder. You had cried for hours after your argument – if you could even call it that– with your father was over and your face ached. The bags under your eyes showing the worse for wear state you had found yourself in. it would be okay, you told yourself. You just have to sleep it off. 
And that was your plan and you slid into your welcoming bed, soft comforter embracing you and your worn feelings. You feel more tears begin to sting behind your eyelids before there's a sudden tap at your window. 
A trick of the wind, you decide and return to your somber thoughts. 
You would have to move on eventually, but tonight? He was the only thing on your mind. His eyes, his hair, the way he would feign annoyance when you were overly touchy, craving closer contact. He always indulged you. Always gave you more, you knew he liked it as much as you did. You were lovesick. 
Tap. 
There was that noise again. Louder than before as if someone had thrown a rock right at your window. The room was still and quiet so you knew it hadn’t been your imagination. 
Jumping to your feet and shuffling towards the window in question you brushed your curtains to the side to see the possible culprit. And when you do, your heart drops and instant regret fills you. Stomach aching as you take in the sight before you.
It’s Tomura Shigaraki and he is pissed.
Tomura, your Tomura leering up at you with another rock resting in his hand, bigger and ready to be tossed at your window if the last attempt didn’t work. 
You look around, knowing no one is in your bedroom but yourself and the moonlight, then go to open your window, ducking your head out to get a better look at him. There he was, black hoodie oversized and so soft, red eyes burning in anger but you aren't scared. You’re relieved, it's him. He's here to see you, mouth turned down in a scowl and fists clenched in fury but he was here. 
You couldn’t stop your hushed whisper, “what are you doing here?”
“I came to talk.” Was his only reply before he dropped the rock and walked towards your window. It wasn’t terribly high up, but higher than he could reach without a bit of help from you. 
Now that he was closer you could see the anger in his posture much more clearly. All tense shoulders and narrowed eyes. It was enough to make your stomach turn. You couldn't help but worry your bottom lip as he pulled out his phone and took a step closer.
“Really? Over a fucking text message?” He hissed, rasp in his voice, uncaring of the time of night or who could hear. 
“Tomura, shh, please–” you tried, hands coming up to placate him, if only a little. Your father would have your head if he heard another man in his home, let alone Tomura Shigaraki. 
He huffed a sarcastic laugh, disbelief taking over his features, but he obliged, “I don’t care what your father told you. He can’t control who you talk to.”
You shake your head, the all too familiar sting of tears in your eyes threatening to fall, “I know. I told him that, but he threatened to kick me out, to cut me off. I’m sorry Tomura, but I can't.”
“He can't do that.”
You nod, knowing all too well that your father would go through with his threat. “He can. Technically. I'm an adult, so it’s his choice.” The tears fall now, seeing the rage dissipate from Tomura, slight drop of his shoulders showing disbelief and disappointment. It's too much. This is why you didn’t want to see him, couldn’t face him. “I'm so sorry,” you whisper, trying to hold in the sobs threatening to wrack your body and possibly wake your parents up. This could not have ended worse.  “I don't want it to be this way.”
“Wow, I didn't know you were such a good girl.”
Your breath hitches, caught off guard, “What is that supposed to mean?”
He shrugs. “I didn't know you did everything daddy says. What a good girl you are.” The tone is one you’re familiar with. Condescending. Challenging. He’s testing you.
Your cheeks flushed. What could you say? That you’re not a good girl, actually. Then what would that make you? A bad girl? You would walk right into his trap. He’s watching, waiting for a response. Something to make you slip up. 
You don't have the chance to respond before he’s taking a step forward, lifting your chin with a finger so that you could look him in the eyes. Even in the dim lighting of the room those crimson eyes looked into your own. Like he was delving deeper, looking for the response that you can't seem to give him. Nothing else matters in this moment. It’s just him and you and the pale moonlight dancing between you. The air is tense and unmoving, like the smallest noise, the faintest blow of wind would ruin this moment. 
You couldn’t take it, couldn’t wait another minute before your body moved, leaning forwards onto the tips of your toes to give you more leverage as your lips pressed to his. His lips were still cold and dry from the cool air outside but that didn’t matter. Nothing matters more than knowing you needed more of him and you needed it now. Tomura’s hand came to rest at the nape of your neck, pulling you closer and the kiss deeper. Taking all of you in as his other hand gripped your waist. 
Your hands wasted no time burying into his hoodie – so soft and worn–  the faint smell of citrus and cedar being a comfort as the intoxicating kiss deepened. Tomura wasted no time, slick tongue entering your mouth, hungry, like it was the last time you would have him this way. It was too much. It was not enough. You broke the kiss, a string of saliva following the short distance you put in between. Air seemed sparse, like you couldn't get enough and Tomura spoke before you could.
“Get on the bed.” 
And you did, newfound vigor in your step as you eagerly did as what you were told. Energy ebbing through your veins as excitement overtook your previous anxiety. Tomura was a mere step behind, discarding his hoodie without care and joining you on the bed, caging you beneath him as he dove back in for another kiss, wet and warm, before trailing lower. Open mouthed kisses to your jaw, then neck, his hands, rough and warm gripping your thighs, taking in all he can. After leaving a particularly hard bite on your neck, Tomura lifted your gown up, smooth silk gliding with ease above your ass and resting below your breast. It was only natural for your legs to spread for him, cool air on your bare cunt making you shiver. 
“Oh?” An amused huff from the man above you makes your cheeks heat further than before. He’s seen you like this many times before, but he’s always had a way of making you feel shy. “No panties, huh?���
You push past your embarrassment. “You know i dont wear them to b– ah!” you're cut off by the feeling of his finger sliding between your folds, slick making it glide, and rubbing over your clit. The surprise of the motion makes you press your thighs closer together. Tomura grins above you, before bringing his wet finger to his mouth, a mocking shh following the motion, tongue flicking out and licking the digit as his other hand pushed your legs apart again. 
He bends down, bulge in his sweatpants pressing against your bare cunt. He’s so hard and that thought only makes you wetter. Tomura’s nose brushes yours, your eyelids fluttering shut as he dives to kiss you again. All open mouthed and wet. You could taste yourself on his tongue as well as feel the pressure of his clothed erection grind against you, rubbing against your bundle of nerves. You are sure your slick is dampening his sweatpants but Tomura doesn’t care. He’s grinding you into the mattress and you’re so close to begging him to get on with it you want to scream. But almost like he’s read your mind, he pulls away. 
The kisses he places along your body set your nerves on fire, anticipation eating away at your patience as he takes his time. Once he’s reached his destination, right between your thighs, he places one wet kiss onto the plush of your inner right thigh. Another teasing move. Another way to make you squirm in excitement. He looks up at you, ruby eyes gleaming in the moonlight of the room. 
“Be quiet for me, yeah?” 
Tomura huffs a laugh at your eager nod, grin growing wider. So quick to please. Dedicated. “Good girl.”
The praise makes you falter for a second, embarrassment threatening to make its way to the surface once more. There was no time for it now, Tomura enjoyed catching you off guard. Loved surprises. He wastes no more time, tongue licking a wet strip between your lips. The action causing you to moan louder than you intended. Your hand rushes to cover your mouth. If you were to be caught in this predicament by either of your parents it would be horrendous for the both of you. 
This doesn’t stop Tomura, though. If anything you were starting to think it encouraged him, because his relentless pace on your cunt was driving you wild. His long stripes simmered into just the tip of his tongue flicking your clit and  sending jolts of pleasure roaring through you. You were already close, pleasure and pressure building and building until you were so close to tipping over– 
Knock knock.
“Hey sweetie. I know it's late, I just wanted to talk for a second.” 
It was your mom. Holy shit it was your mom and there's a boy in your bed with his head buried between your legs and holy shit. If she opened the door, if she barged into your room in the familiar way she always had a bad habit of doing, you would be done for. With wide eyes and accelerated breaths, you clamped down harder over your mouth with both hands. Even Tomura stopped in his tracks, gaze lazily focused on the door with curiosity bleeding into his indifference. 
Your mother must have taken the silence as a sign of slumber, yet she continued. Voice muffled by the door between you both. 
“Your father... was harsh today. And I’m sorry for that.” She pauses, long enough for you to believe she would be giving up and going back to her bedroom. You aren't so lucky, surely at this point you were very unlucky and you dreaded whatever else she had to say. “I just want you to know that he just wants the best for you.” your heart drops as she carries on, unaware and unconcerned of the other pair of ears listening in to her words. “We don’t know him that well. We can't risk you getting involved in something you're not ready for and throwing your future away.”
At this, Tomura rolls his eyes, interest clearly lost and goes back to his earlier movements. The sloppy kiss to your clit catches you off guard and forces a whine out of you. It was small, but still a noise. Squeezing your eyes shut you prayed this would be written off as an odd sleep noise. Wishing to the sky that it wasn't noticeable and Tomura would stop. He didn’t. It was in that moment he decided pressing a finger against your entrance would bring out more noises. The digit slipping in with minimal effort and adding more pleasure to this mix as he sucked your clit. 
If your mother heard anything, she didn't make it known. The floorboards outside of your door creaking with the shifting of her weight. “Well, maybe we can get ice cream or something tomorrow. Have a little girl’s day?” The silence is palpable as she waits for an answer that won't come. “Okay well, goodnight sweetie. See you in the morning.”
You don’t know what you're more grateful for; the sound of her receding steps or that fact that Tomura wasn't cruel and waited until the telltale sound of a door opening and closing rang through the air before adding another finger and curling them. This time you couldn’t bite back the moan that escaped you, hands gripping the cotton of your duvet. 
“Aw, how sweet,” Tomura started, sitting up while adding a thumb to your sensitive nub and rubbing slow circles to replace his mouth. “She wants to have a little girls’ day with you.” 
His mocking tone would have gotten a reaction out of you any other time, but right now you were so close. On the precipice of an orgasm that’s been drawn out for far too long. You could only look at him with half lidded eyes as his fingers worked like magic sending you closer and closer, your breath hitching as you finally, finally reached the climax. Body shaking pleasure cascades over you like a tidal wave. 
“There we go,” Tomura whispers, giving your cunt a playful tap after letting you ride the sensation out. He pulls away completely to take off his sweatpants and underwear, cock already hard and leaking. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips at the sight and you hear his breathless chuckle. “I’ll let you have a taste next time, but right now, I can't wait any longer.” 
It was only when he began to line up with your entrance that you absently wondered about the lack of condoms you owned. You look up at him, question burning on your tongue but he only grins at you, and you swore in that moment he was a mind reader. “I didn’t bring any with me, sorry,” his voice was far from apologetic as he stroked his cock, rubbing the head between your folds and against your clit, slick soaking the head. “But don't worry,” he continued, leaning forward and you felt the pressure at your entrance, excitement buzzing through your veins. “I’ll pull out.”
Whether you believed him or not didn’t matter, you had no time to process a thought as he began stretching you to the limit with his size. A gasp escaped your parted lips as the sickeningly sweet feeling of being stretched too far too fast took over. He gave you a minute to adjust, even as his cock twitched in anticipation of movement. The grip he had on your hips was tight enough to bruise and you knew it was taking a lot of his self control to wait for you. 
He pressed on, figuring it had been long enough and bottomed out with a sigh. Your walls clenched around him and swore you could cum from the stretch alone. After giving you a second to breathe he pulled back, almost pulling out, only to snap his hips back forward into you. Your head lolled onto the pillow, hand coming up once more to mute the moans dragging from your body. Tomura hoists your legs onto each side of his shoulders,bending them forward and successfully folding you like a lawn chair as he started his aggressive pace, forcing your tight heat to clench around his cock. 
“Oh, fuck…” you couldn’t help but mutter as you struggled to hold off your already approaching orgasm. 
Tomura saw this as a challenge. “What? You gonna cum on my cock?” he mocked, pace wild and rough, leaving you gasping as you shut your eyes, not ready to admit how right he was. “It's okay,” he continued, leaning closer and allowing his dick to press deeper inside you. The drag hitting the bundle of nerves inside and nearly sending you over the edge. “Come on, cum on my cock like the good girl you are.” 
Those words push you over, hips convulsing as your legs shake and it takes Tomura slapping a hand over your mouth this time to quiet you. You couldn’t focus on anything else, let alone keeping quiet. Your body felt light and Tomura fucked you through it. His pace grew more erratic as his grinning face became one of focus, brows furrowing as his eyes shut and he focused on his pleasure. Your pussy squeezing around him making it harder for him to stave off his own nearing climax. You were worried that at this point you were both too far gone. The silence of the home would leave the messy noises between you both loud and clear for the entire house to hear. Tomura was great at keeping his composure but the soft groans coming from your lover only showed how much he was losing his grip. 
“Can’t– fuck, sorry–” you didn’t have time to decipher his strange words, your curious eyes meeting his face to gauge his expression before you feel it. 
His cock twitches inside you, seed painting your insides white as his thrusts didn't slow. He was hammering away at your insides, only pumping his cum further into you.  You feel so full, the warmth spreading over your body like a blanket. He came in you. Even though he said he wouldn’t, he did. The worst part about it? You don’t care. It's invigorating. You feel even more attached to him. Even closer. You want more.
Overstimulated and weak, you whimpered, thoughts swimming as Tomura finally came down from high. Slowing his thrusts and panting heavily. Your heart is drumming against your chest as he removes your sore legs from his shoulders. Shuddering as he slips out of your tight heat, feeling the cum dripping out of you and onto your sheets. 
The bed dipped as he took his place next to you. Out of breath and eyes focused on the ceiling. Your ears were ringing with the sudden quietness of it all. Things felt different, heavy. 
“You could always just not tell them.” It was Tomura who broke the silence first. “Act sad, mope around, and then come see me at night.” 
You glanced over, vaguely registering the sweat cooling on your body. You would need to get up and get cleaned up soon. “Yeah, but if they catch me–”
“They won't. I’ll teach you how.” he turns towards you, bringing a hand to your chin to make you face him. There’s a fuzzy feeling turning in your chest and the familiarity of heat rising to your cheeks is starting to drive you mad. His grin is enamoring, red eyes almost glowing with mischief in the moonlight. “I’ll show you the ropes.” 
There's an ache that tugs at your chest as you nod. “Okay.”
You are so fucked.
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