#Very self indulgent fluff

[mxgicthot]

Lean on me

In which you help your husband wash himself after a long day.

In this fic you are Ratonhnhaké:ton's wife and mother to his children. Also this is an can be set in canon or modern au.

Paring : Connor Kenway x fem s/o

cw : fluff, some hurt, HEAVY COMFORT, slightly suggestive, soaping up Connor's body, hinting at height/size difference.

Word count : 553

Ratonhnhaké:ton is frozen beneath the rushing shower water. Steam rolls off his muscular back, facing toward you. Splaying his large hand on the wall, his broad shoulders tense. Paying you no mind as you slip into the slower with him.

Slipping your hand through his. "The girls are finally asleep in bed." Trying to ground him, when his brain caught reliving the past. Letting your hand go, turning around, anger and hopelessness hollow his face.

Grabbing your hips, Ratonhnhaké:ton spreads his large thick fingers out. "Thank you, love. You good?" His cheeks are thinner, with deepening dark circles beneath his eyes. The coldness melts in his narrow chocolate-colored eyes. His frown softens to a flat line.

Holding his face, reaffirming, "We're good," as he leans down, passionately kissing you, gently groaning. Parting your lips for him to slip his tongue into your mouth. Hugging Ratonhnhaké:ton tightly.

Slowly he breaks away, trailing kisses from your jaw to your neck. Biting lighting and squeezing along your sides.

Biting your lip to keep from crying out when he sinks his teeth in deeper. "I got you. Lemme take care of you." He pulls away kissing your forehead. "I have some hot chocolate waiting for us. We'll sit on the porch. I'll brush your hair out." You grab his round sponge hanging next to a loofah.

He won't talk, but you could attempt to distract him momentarily. Give him the attention and care he shows the kids and yourself. Pouring his scented soap onto it. The shampoo's back states a wonderful mix of eucalyptus, white birch, and cypress.

Scrubbing Ratonhnhaké:ton's broad, muscular chest, rubbing your fingers over his firm tits. Sliding your fingers over his well-defined abs. Trailing his loofa down, scrubbing his v-line and dark short hair. Carefully smearing soap down his soft, fat cock. Careful to make sure soap doesn’t get into his cockhead.

Letting go of his cock to squeeze soap from the loofa into your palm, fondling his balls. Ratonhnhaké:ton brings up, “I was thinking of cooking breakfast with the kids." He parts his thighs enough for you to clean his ballsack.

Smiling up at him, puckering your lips he leans down giving you a chaste, sweet kiss. "We got the stuff for triple chocolate chunk. You can help Io:nhiòte with the muffins, and the other two can help me with the omelettes and blueberry pancakes." Crouching in front of him, scrubbing down his well-toned legs, lingering on his muscular thighs.

Lifting his foot, his cheeks heating up. “You don’t need to do all this..I can wash myself.” Getting the other one, then standing up. “Aren’t you tired?"

Standing up, getting on the tip of your toes, he leans down for you to kiss his cheeks. Scrubbing his broad shoulders and neck. “I’m tired, but that doesn’t matter." Going down his muscular arm, grabbing his large hand, admiring the size difference between his and yours.

Switching to his other arm, "I want to.” Ratonhnhaké:ton's eyes widen momentarily, the corner of his lips pulling up into a soft smile. "We're a family aren't we, gotta make sure you’re taken care of." A couple of tears trickle down his cheek.

Holding your hand, rising the soap off, Kissing your knuckles. "I'm so grateful I have you and the children."

[yueebby]

𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 – 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮

synopsis. period piece, forbidden love

contents. ooc, angst (eventual comfort), yandere emperor!gojo, lovesick!gojo, servant!reader, obsessive behavior (5k words of gojo pining), lowkey unreliable narrator, time skips

notes. inspired by the apothecary diaries and this post. loosely based off of ancient japan (this is basically its own world). this is the prologue to the series where everything can generally be read as a standalone ! (fic under the cut)

series masterlist

emperor!gojo who broke a hundred year tradition to take you as his only lover. despite your role as a concubine, everyone in the imperial palace knew he was going to make you his empress.

emperor!gojo who had not meant to fall in love with you, but you have managed to somehow charm him. a man that single handedly brought his own clan to power– weak in your hands. hushed whispers around the imperial palace call you a witch, but they never reach your ears. not as long as he is alive.

emperor!gojo shamelessly showering you with love. he pays no mind that it is highly frowned upon, he will have his hands on you every time you are in the same room.

emperor!gojo who is livid when there is an attempt on your life. his usual ocean eyes turned to blue flames like a wild animal. servants and clan elders alike scurry under his gaze. the assailant is taken care of by his own hands. 

emperor!gojo who is forced to satiate the clan elders into submission by taking in another concubine from an influential clan. he insists to you that it is no more than a political formality. who are you to meddle into imperial affairs?

emperor!gojo who can’t help himself and ends up falling for another girl who his clan elders demand he must wed. she is much younger than you, beautiful and is well bred; a perfect match for the emperor. 

emperor!gojo whose frequent visits to you come to an end, forcing you to move from his chambers and back to the consorts’ pavilion.

There was a time when you had everything. A place to call home in the Inner Court, a beautiful palace with anything you could have ever dreamed of. Servants, admirers, riches; you had it all. But what was most dear to you was your lover– a man so divine, many thought he was directly blessed by the hand of God. It was too good to be true. A woman of lowly birth like you, paid as homage for the sins of her clan against the new reigning family of Japan, becoming a concubine of the Heavenly Emperor. 

You remembered it all too well.

His brilliant mind that once strategized the downfall of the previous imperial family, calculating its next move in a game of Go against you. You can still remember the shock on his face upon his first defeat. The way he would keep you from leaving to fulfill your other duties until he was satisfied, eyebrows furrowing as he struggled to keep up with you. No matter how hard he tried, you remained victorious. It drove him mad.

You remembered the stolen kisses while you made your rounds in the Inner Palace with your ladies in waiting. It took you quite a while to learn to tune out their giggles every time the Emperor dips you down to taste your lips in broad daylight. The grin that he wore after was enough to leave your legs weak.

Above all, you'll always remember how safe you felt in his strong, reassuring embrace. You’ve seen him train, and it was no wonder the Gojo clan rose to power so quickly as a result of one man. The way he wields the katana is unlike any man on the face of the earth. Those arms were your sanctuary. You can still vividly recall the attempt on your life, orchestrated by a traditionalist incensed by the Gojo clan's swift ascent to power. The emperor, outraged by the assassination plot, personally saw to the man's execution. 

However, the damage was done and it caused great strain in the Imperial Palace.

To appease the old geezers that were forced out of power, Emperor Gojo had taken in another concubine from one of the Big Three families of Japan— a beautiful Zenin girl. Her flowing, silky hair and saccharine voice enchanted everyone in the Inner Palace, captivating the Emperor, most of all. She was younger than you, with perkier breasts and soft skin that was enough to capture the attention of any man. 

You don’t blame her for taking the Emperor’s attention away. Though you would be a liar if you said it did not hurt you. Deep down, you cannot deny the agony that sears your soul, realizing that the only semblance of love you've ever tasted remains unrequited. With a heavy heart, you resign yourself to the bitter truth of your existence, knowing all too well the cruel confines of your place in this world.

You were merely a pawn, and the Emperor did not want you anymore.

That was made clear months later when you received a scroll from the Emperor’s advisor, a man you were once well acquainted with, Geto Suguru. 

“What is this?” You asked him quietly, your heart silently begging the Heavens it was not what you had suspected it to be. The black haired man in front of you does not respond, and you feel something pierce into your heart. Despite being a part of the Emperor’s court, it was rare that you received letters directly.

Your suspicions were confirmed when your shaky hands finally opened the scroll to read the familiar kanji written by your beloved.

“The Emperor decrees the termination of your role as concubine." Geto spares you the trouble of deciphering the characters neatly written in ink. “In his mercy, you are to be moved as a servant in the Outer Court. You are to serve the Imperial Physician.”

What you remember most was the silence. The Emperor’s silence after the stressful months you had to endure alone. The silence shared between you and Geto when you were forced out of the Imperial Court. All that was left was the sound of your heart breaking and the wood creaking underneath Geto’s feet as he walked away. Satoru never bothered to see you off.

Seasons change and by the next spring, you’re busying your hands with collecting herbs for the Imperial Physician, a man by the name of Yaga Masamichi. He is a kind man, pitying you enough to fill your days with laborious tasks to prevent your mind from wandering to thoughts of the unfortunate turn your life has taken. He is even generous enough to supply you with a new wardrobe of clothing full of light fabrics, a luxury you thought you would lose in the Outer Palace. Though the initial humiliation has worn off with the passing of time, you are still constantly reminded of your fall from grace.

Looks by the mix of condolences and disgust are shared when you roam the walls of the Outer Palace. You hear whispers of how the Emperor is infatuated with his newer, shinier toy. It is enough for you to swallow the bile that makes its way up your throat. 

“It is no wonder the Emperor tossed away a wildflower like her in exchange for a cherry blossom. He needed someone to rival his own greatness.” A particular comment stopped you in your tracks. Your grip tightens on the woven basket in your hand filled with medicinal herbs you had collected earlier that morning. 

“Have some pity on her.” Another eunuch whispers. Your breath falters, but you continue your walk with your head held up. You’ve heard the rumors. The beautiful Zenin Himiko has charmed the Emperor enough that there are rumors of a royal marriage to come. It doesn’t help that the Emperor has remained monogamous to her since he had banished you from his court.

A comforting hand links itself with your arm, “Ignore them. I saw Yaga shooing away a crowd of suitors that were lined up for your hand.” Ieiri Shoko scoffs, secretly sending you a wink. She has been studying medicine under Yaga for nearly a decade, eagerly accepting you as a companion upon your arrival. You feel your cheeks heat up at her flattery. You know she’s just trying to make you feel better.

Although your beauty never faded, it seems as though you are no longer sought after in the marriage market. Not that it matters, considering the new life that you’re living. You’re now a personal servant to the Imperial Physician, leaving no time to worry about suitors and such. Your days are filled with good work— tending to Yaga’s cherished garden that he has sowed for decades rather than frivolous games and attending the Emperor. It may not be glorious compared to your former life, but it was the best a woman of your status could receive. 

When you and Shoko return to Yaga’s estate, you’re surprised to see the somber look that has settled on his aging features. Shoko makes an offhand comment that he will age faster if he keeps scowling. She receives a scolding.

“Is something the matter?” You gently place down your basket full of herbs. 

Yaga sighs, calloused hands rolling up a scroll with the Imperial Seal. “It appears the Emperor’s consort has fallen ill and His Majesty commands my presence in the Imperial Palace.” 

The Royal Consort. The woman that dethroned you: Zenin Himiko.

“I understand.” You nod, maintaining your composure while two sets of eyes scrutinize you with keen observation. It was only natural the emperor wanted the best doctor in the country for his object of affection. “Shall I close up the shop while you journey into the Inner Palace?” 

Yaga shakes his head, “That won’t be necessary. I will have Shoko act as my stand-in.” He remarks with a quick glance in her direction “You, on the other hand, will accompany me.” 

Your eyes widen. 

“You cannot be serious.”

“Typically, one of my apprentices would accompany me on such journeys. However, now that I have acquired a personal attendant,” He gestures towards you with a flick of his hand, “It shall no longer be necessary.” As he speaks, he runs his hand absentmindedly through his well trimmed beard, gaging your reaction.

"I—" Your words falter and fade away. "Yes, sir," you respond, inclining your head in deference, a stark reminder of your place. While you may have concealed it, you were seething with humiliation. Returning to the Imperial Palace after a year of exile to serve the woman who took your spot was mortifying beyond measure.

“Very well. Pack enough for one week’s time. I doubt the Emperor would have called me if this was a light ailment.” He says gruffly. “We leave at dawn.” His gaze shifted to the horizon outside.

1 YEAR AGO

“Your Grace,” You purr at the feeling of his large hands scratching your head. 

The smile that rests on his face is almost ravenous. “Yes, my love?”

“I think—“ A soft sigh escapes your lips when he presses on your weak points. “I should g-go.”

His ministrations stop almost immediately. 

“Go?” His eyes peer down at you in his lap. It is now that you realize the weight of his piercing gaze. “Have I commanded you to leave yet?”

“No, but—”

“Then you have nowhere else to be.” He huffs, unintentionally puffing his cheeks out. You stifle the giggle that nearly escapes from your lips. He vaguely resembles a pufferfish– or so you think. Though you’ve never seen the round creature with your very own eyes, you’ve heard that the delicacy was something only members of the aristocratic class would feast on. 

Your mouth waters at the thought.

“What are you thinking about that could possibly be so important? Keep your eyes on me,” A strong hand squishes your cheeks together and firmly guides your face back upon him. 

You should be embarrassed; ashamed at the intimate position His Majesty has trapped you in. The way your head is tucked away in his lap as he peers down at you, nothing to shield you away from him. It was incredibly scandalous, considering that you were an unmarried woman! But it seemed like the Emperor had taken no mind towards it. You would even dare to say that he was enjoying it, with the way his lips quirk upward at the sight of you squirming. 

“Your Grace,” You repeat, determined to free yourself from his hold. His eyebrows furrow.

“Satoru,” He reminds you. You purse your lips. The position you hold in his court is simply not high enough to grant you the privilege of calling him by his given name.

“Your Grace,” You try again, the title rolling off of your tongue naturally. A man like him did not deserve any title less than.

“You’re breaking my heart, sweetheart. Indulge a man, won’t you?” He pouts down at you. As stubborn as ever, you don’t relent.

“I would be overstepping my boundaries as your consort to call you as such. That privilege is reserved for your future bride.” You take advantage of his guard let down to sit up and escape his hold. If he could have caught you, he made no effort.

“I am a simple man.” He follows you to your vanity. A giggle escapes your mouth. He is anything but. “I want my love to call me by my name.” 

You turn around to cup his cheek. He eagerly leans into your touch, sighing happily at the contact.

“I wonder how Lord Kento and Geto would react to you like this.” You tease, a smile unknowingly painting itself on your lips. 

Satoru’s face falls, features morphing into an appalled expression. You watch him close the distance between you through the mirror.

“Kento?” His voice had a dangerous lilt in it. You blink, unsure what spurred on the sudden tension in the room. “Since when were you so comfortable around him? He cannot satisfy you like I can.” He reminds you of the man’s castrated state as an eunuch. You wince.

“I have not gotten comfortable,” You’re careful to pick your words. Gojo’s possessiveness was something that was not easily tamed. “He simply provides good conversation while you are away.The palace is far too big and lonely while you’re away dealing with clan matters.” 

The only response you get is a quiet grumble. “You’re lucky that you’re pretty.” His large hand creeps its way into your hair again, undoing the hairstyle your ladies in waiting had spent a copious amount of time on earlier that morning. Gojo carefully plucks the extravagant silver hairpin from your hair, the dangling pearls clicking softly at the sudden movement.  His hands slowly make their way down to the kimono that you are wearing, hands ready to undo the obi.

Your hands softly hover his, “I fear that our roles have been reversed. Should it not be me who gets you unready, Your Grace?”

He chuckles and through the mirror you can see a smirk make his way to his lips, “I’d let you undress me any day. Just say the word, beloved.” 

You roll your eyes, but allow him to continue. It was moments like these with the Emperor that led you on to believe that there was a semblance of love between the two of you. 

How wrong you were.

PRESENT DAY

The sun has yet to meet the horizon when you arrive at the Inner Palace. The horse-drawn carriage that you and Yaga had taken is the only sound at the scene, clopping down the stone road and back to the Inner Court. You miss the serenity of the beautiful palace you once resided in, knowing that it will be bustling with life in just a few short hours.

In front of the large doors of the primary ceremonial hall where the Emperor spends most of his time, stands Lord Nanami, a counsellor to the Emperor himself. Time has only made his face sterner, but his neatly styled hair and blue and yellow dyed court attire remained the same. He waits patiently while you and Yaga make your way up the flight up stairs that lead up to the hall.

“I am glad to see you in good health, Yaga.” Nanami bows. 

The man next to you promptly waves his politeness off, thanking him for his hospitality. You stand silently while the two men engage in conversation regally.

Lord Nanami sighs, “His Majesty has been plagued by stress lately. To say I am relieved by your presence would be an understatement.” His statement is a subtle reminder that you must harden your heart upon entering the palace walls. The meticulously built walls were no longer a sanctuary for you, rather, a painful testament that you were no longer wanted. 

Yaga lets out a hearty laugh and it reveals a rare sight, Lord Nanami’s lips curving upwards by a slight. “I highly doubt the boy would be glad to see me. The appearance of the Imperial Physician is portentous.” He scratches his beard. You tilt your head in confusion at how he referred to the Emperor.

“I suppose, yet I am intrigued to find out how he will react upon seeing his object of affection flourishing anew despite the sting of frost.” Nanami audibly wonders. Even a fool could understand his eloquent comparison. The Emperor would be thrilled to see his consort in full bloom once again. You pray that the Heavens would grant you some mercy from witnessing such a scene.

“Youth,” Yaga shakes his head, chuckling to himself before regaining composure. “I mustn't keep the Emperor waiting. [Name], please gather the herbal ingredients to treat the young Consort as you seem fit. I shall confer with His Majesty and meet you in her chambers to declare a proper diagnosis.”

You bow, “Yes sir.”

While Yaga prepares to enter the doors where The Heavenly Emperor resides, your eyes couldn’t help but gaze longingly at the large bronze doors. 

“You seem well,” Nanami addresses you for the first time in over a year. Your eyes trail from the Emperor’s door to the blonde man in front of you. “Allow me to guide you to our herbal stock.” Nanami offers you his arm as you start to make your way down the stairs. 

You take it, lightly holding his arm.  “Thank you, Lord Nanami. Time away from the Inner Palace has been like a breath of fresh air,” You respond, ensuring your voice carries no malice. You hear the large palace doors from behind you open, the metal creaking loudly in the quiet dawn. 

“I must ask you to call me Kento,” He leads you down the stone steps. “We are old friends, it is strange to hear anything but.” 

You focus on your steps down the stairs, only responding once your feet meet the solid ground, “I fear that our social statuses have changed since then. It would be the cause of a scandal should anyone hear I am calling the Imperial Counselor by his given name. Your admirers would have my head on a stick.”

“Your imagination is amusing as always, [Name].” He gives you a closed eyes smile. You huff.

“I am only speaking the truth!” You insist. He chuckles.

“It is quite refreshing to see both you and Yaga again. I’m not sure how long it has been since I have been at the imperial physician.” 

You gape at his confession. “You mustn't skip your annual visits to the physician, Kento. It is in the best interest of your health!” You lightly scold him, lifting your hand to flick his forehead. It was a force of habit. “Perhaps if I have time after treating the Consort, I shall do a check up on you.”

Nanami clears his throat at your comment, the twinkle in his eyes dissipating as if your direct touch had burned him. 

“I would rather not lose my head.” He mumbles, eyes scanning the courtyard around the two of you. You knit your eyebrows, confused.

Nanami leaves you to fulfill his duties once you arrive at the Royal Kitchens to retrieve all the necessary items to treat Consort Himiko. You are glad that he did not accompany you into the kitchens to prepare Consort Himiko’s herbal soup. 

The memory of it still irks you.

“You’re late,” One of Consort Himiko’s ladies in waiting snaps just as you enter the kitchen. You look up to see a young girl, dressed in a light purple kimono. It must be Himiko’s signature, you note. It was strange to see someone outside of the Imperial family donning the color, but you suppose it was only a grand display of Himiko’s influence.

“You’re a lot more plain than I anticipated,” The other lady in waiting quirks an eyebrow, eyeing your appearance. You furrow your eyebrows, shocked by their rudeness.Their undying loyalty to their Lady was enough to fuel an unspoken hatred for you. Though you’re not sure that the two coincide, you don’t blame them.

The two are mixing a concoction that you don’t recognize to be used to treat the sick. The taller one adds some aromatics and herbs in and you see the other one unwrap a cloth to reveal a rare delicacy from the West. Cocoa, you believed they called it. 

Then it hits you– the two are not making a medicinal soup for their Lady, rather they are making an aphrodisiac! The image that conjures in your head makes you blanch. Back in the Outer Palace, Shoko had shown you the effects of the stimulant (you shiver at the memory of her shoving a treat laced with it into your mouth). It was certainly a night to remember.

“How pathetic,” You mutter underneath your breath, quickly rushing to obtain the ingredients you needed without making conversation with the two girls.

Fortunately, they pay you no further attention for the time you’re in the kitchen.

“Please excuse me,” You bow upon entering the Emperor’s chambers. Despite the Consort’s Pavilion being similar in size to a small town, you remember spending most of your time in the Emperor’s chambers rather than your own. It was probably the same case with Consort Himiko. You slowly place the tray carrying broth and medicinal herbs to treat the Consort down on the circular wooden table in the middle of the room.

Out of curiosity, your eyes can’t help but soak in the Emperor’s room. Not much has changed since you’ve left. His Majesty’s preference for minimalist decorations have stayed the same, along with his natural musk that fills your nose. You feel your face heat up at your own thoughts. How could you think of such a thing when you are about to meet his new lover?

Your gaze moves to his bed, where Consort Himiko resides– only to find nothing.

“Huh?” 

You observe his bed, silk sheets neatly made, seemingly untouched. The sounds of your sock clad feet patter on the wooden floor as you make your way to feel the bedsheets for any signs of warmth, but you are met with nothing.

“Don’t you know that entering the Emperor’s chambers can be punishable by death?” A deep voice from behind you causes you to jump in your spot. 

Your guard is immediately raised, head whipping to the sound. In hindsight, you should have never agreed to accompany Yaga on his trip. It was a foolish idea all along, you think as all of the air in your lungs dissipates upon seeing your former lover. 

Standing at the entrance of his own sleeping quarters is Gojo Satoru, his frame big enough to tower over the doorway. His arms are crossed over each other, electric blue eyes focused on nothing else but you. You press your thighs together tightly to avoid squirming anymore than you are.  He has loosened his dark blue kimono to expose some of his hardened chest, a sight any woman in the nation would die to catch a glimpse.  Even underneath all of the fabric, anyone can see his divinely sculpted physique.

“Your Grace,” You waste no time to dip your body deeply, praying that he will allow you to keep your head by sunset. “I apologize for the intrusion, I was under the pretense that Consort Himiko resided in your quarters–” Your voice loses itself in your throat when you see his shadow quickly encroaching.

“Himiko stays in her Pavilion,” He towers over you, eyes gazing down on you. “But one might suspect that you already knew that.”

Your eyes frantically meet his feet, desperate to salvage what was left of your dignity, “I assure you that I speak of the truth, Your Majesty.”

When he doesn’t respond, you slowly lift your head.

The flustered look on your face must have been amusing to him, as he makes his way closer to you, bending down to interrogate you further.

“Is that so?” He hums, enjoying every second of cornering you into his chambers. The back of your legs have met his bed, trapping you. You inhale sharply, trying to keep your breaths even, refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing the effect he had on you.

He continues, “You’re awfully skittish for someone who was happily skipping around my territory in the arms of another man just earlier.” His predatory gaze seems to darken. 

“Kento?” When his name leaves your lips, the man in front of you grits his teeth. You turn your head to the side, deliberately avoiding him. “With all due respect, Your Majesty, but I don’t see how Kento and I’s relationship is any of your concern,” He does not take your actions well, his gaze searing into you.

“It certainly is when the woman in question is you,” Gojo’s voice loses its feral lilt, distress flashing across his face. There’s a newfound desperation in it that chips away at your resolve. His hand raises to your face so slowly, as if he did not want to startle you.

“This is wrong. I– I saw a couple of servants earlier making aphrodisiacs, perhaps you could have unknowingly consumed them.” You tell him, frantic eyes meeting him. It is not unusual for couples to use aphrodisiacs, you know that after under Yaga. The Emperor must have mistaken the laced dessert for his usual. 

He shakes his head, running a hand through his white hair.

“You are mistaken. This is solely your effect on me.” He promises. You could barely believe his words, stuck between feeling offended or shocked.

“How could you stand to be so cruel?” Your voice is barely above a whisper. There are no tears in your eyes this time.  “I am not a courtesan you can buy for the night,” You snap, pointing a harsh finger to his chest. 

“What do you mean?” He sounds breathless.

“Whatever do I mean?” You scoff, a dry laugh escaping your mouth. “For a year, all I have gotten is pity from the world, because you decided I was no longer entertaining. You could have at least banished me away yourself. Instead, you sent Suguru who couldn’t even look me in the eye! Don’t you know how humiliating that is?” With every word that left your lips, more venom seemed to drip. Anger was prickling you all over, taking control of the rational part of you.

Gojo seemed to be taken aback by your outburst. It was far too late to take anything back now. If you lose your head by nightfall, so be it.

You dig a deeper grave for yourself when you take advantage of his moment of weakness to flee. He’s quick to react, attempting to grip your wrist.

“Wait, [Name], beloved–” He uses that all too familiar term of endearment, but it doesn't deter you.

You accidentally bump into the circular wooden table placed in the middle of the room. What an awful place to keep it, watching in horror as the Consort’s medicine shatters on the floor. To add salt to the wound, a vase you recognize to be specially gifted to the Emperor from a foreign nation tips off too before you can catch it. The sound of porcelain shattering fills the room.

“[Name]! Are you alright?” You hear Gojo ask from behind you, but you run over the broken shards before he can catch you.

Had you bothered to pay closer attention, you would have noticed articles of your clothing and a couple of your missing belongings littered all over the room– creating a faux impression that you never really left the palace.

Days passed by after the incident, and luckily, your head was still attached to your body despite offending and nearly endangering the Emperor. Yaga’s disappointment when you had told him what happened was made evident when he sent you home early after hearing the events that transpired, insisting that he can handle the Consort on his own. Normally you would have argued, but you knew better than to inflict Yaga’s wrath.

“Now you’ve really done it,” Shoko whistles lowly, walking in from the front of Yaga’s shop. 

You hide your face in your hands, “I made an absolute fool of myself, didn’t I?”

“A fool? No. A conspirator against the Emperor? Perhaps.” She dangles a scroll with a familiar seal on it. The Gojo Clan’s familiar emblem reflects off of the sunlight spilling into the room. Your heart drops.

“Oh, they’ll have my head.” You moan, hands instinctively lifting to shield your neck.

“Though I’m quite impressed that Yaga only sent you back here. He used to have worse punishments.” She shudders before impatiently unraveling the scroll. You watch her eyes gradually widen as they read the contents of the letter. The scroll falls from her hand.

You rush to it, desperate to read your fate.

To [Last Name] [First Name],

Greetings and prosperity unto you.

By the mandate of the heavens and the authority vested in Us, We hereby extend Our solemn words to you, [Last Name] [First Name], servant of the realm, in acknowledgement of your debt to the Empire.

In response to your unmeritorious deeds, The Emperor bestows upon you His imperial pardon from capital punishment. In consideration of your obligations and the harmony of the realm, it is hereby decreed that you shall serve as an indentured servant to the Imperial Household for a period commensurate with your debt. During this time, you shall labor faithfully and diligently under the supervision of Our Heavenly Emperor, performing duties essential to the welfare of the Empire.

By fulfilling your obligations with diligence and humility, you may yet earn favor and esteem in Our sight.

The Imperial Court

A loud gasp escapes your mouth.

You feel your legs weaken, your emotions running wild. Shoko’s eyes meet yours, mirroring your frantic gaze. In that moment, you are met with the same suffocating sense of hopelessness.

extra!

gojo was kicking his feet happily as he watched suguru draft out his letter to you. suguru thought it rather cruel, while the white haired male was too busy purring happily as he fantasized about having you back into his grasp.

previous chapter | next chapter [coming soon!]

[sqtorux]

imagine you come home completely exhausted after a long day and immediately collapsing on the couch only for suguru to find you there.

he was about to carry you to bed but just had to stop and admire you, sound asleep looking tired yet still absolutely breathtaking.

he sits there for a moment, listening to your steady breaths and marvel at the sight of you. his hand removes the few strands of hair covering your face and tucks them behind your ear causing you to stir.

he whispers several apologies as he pulls you into his strong arms encasing you as if you weighed nothing.

you mumble some complaints about waking you up but suguru knows you'll be thankful in the morning.

he gently carries you to your bed and sets you down so softly you wouldn't notice the impact even if you weren't half asleep.

just when you thought the heavenly soft pillows were now allowing you to drift away to dreamland in peace, a cold sensation on your face jolts you up.

"shh, i'll be quick i promise" suguru chuckles as your heavy lids close against your will. you could only hum in response while he wipes away the remaining traces of makeup that were still clinging onto your features.

suguru had seen you applying your skincare a million times so he knows your routine like the back of his hand. he follows the steps accurately taking care not to wake you up in the process.

after he was done rubbing the last swab of moisturizer into your skin, he smiles triumphantly at himself already thinking about the praises you'd give him the next morning.

just before applying your lip balm though, he just couldn't help but sneak in a kiss, maybe a few, okay a lot of soft feather like kisses.

suguru finally takes his rightful place next to you and pulls you into his embrace, he melts just a little more when you snuggle into his chest and sigh contently, the both of you meeting in your dreams.

[sanatomis]

cw. none except satoru being disgustingly cute (part 2)

satoru isn’t used to people calling him anything other than his surname. gojo-san to most, gojo-sensei to others. it’s simple, and gets the job done.

only a handful of people stick to calling him by his given name. to them, he’s satoru. it’s easy, and rolls of the tongue, and he greatly prefers it over the sound of his surname. it makes him feel like an actual person.

satoru never entertained the possibility of being called anything else other than those two names. he didn’t think it would ever happen.

for once, he was glad to be proven wrong.

“tough day, pretty?” you ask gently, and he sighs with a nod as he throws himself into your opened arms. his body moulds easily into yours, and he lets out a heavy groan as he settles onto the couch with you. the groan is loud, and over-exaggerated.

it’s so satoru.

you have to stifle a giggle.

“everything went horribly wrong,” he grumbles, his voice muffled against the fabric of your shirt. “the higher ups were up my ass again, my students laughed at me again, and when i finally made it to that bakery you liked they were out of your favourite pastries so i couldn’t get them for you—again!”

“oh, my poor baby,” you coo, and gently push his bangs out of his face. he nods in agreement, faking an immense amount of sympathy for himself. “‘s okay, at least you tried, hm? i think that’s very sweet.”

satoru hums, as if he’s deeply thinking about your words. “’m still your baby?” he mumbles, deciding that’s the most important thing right now. his eyes briefly flutter shut, consumed by utter bliss as you play with the hairs on his undercut.

“mhm, still my baby.”

“yeah? what else am i?”

this time you do giggle. he does this sometimes. you aren’t exactly sure why—but on tough days, satoru likes to crawl into your arms and listen to you call him every cheesy nickname under the sun. it’s easily providable and makes him so very happy, so you always indulge him.

“my honey bun.”

“and?”

“my boo bear.”

“mhm.”

“my sweetheart.”

“yes?”

you laugh softly. “my mochi,” you coo, and pinch his cheek. it’s a little squished because he’s laying on your chest, but it emphasises your point.

he grins under your touch. it’s adorable.

“keep them coming, please?” he asks, and you do. you always do, unable to refuse him. especially when he asks so sweetly.

“my sugar cookie.”

“my muffin.”

“my baby cakes.”

“my angel.”

“my love.”

“my husband.”

“h—huh?” satoru stammers, looking up from your chest. he lays his chin on your sternum, baby blue eyes blinking up at you. they’re filled with awe, surprise, and utter glee. “that’s, i’m not. . .”

“just testing the title, baby,” you tell him, and continue playing with his hair. he bathes in your touch and you smile softly as he grabs and kisses the palm of your hand. “what do you think, hm?”

“i think you should call me it again.”

“oh?”

“mhm,” he mumbles.

“my dearest husband.”

“again.”

“my handsome husband.”

“again.”

“my sweet husband.”

“again, please?”

you hum, impressed. “my well-mannered husband.”

satoru chuckles, and lays back down on your chest. his white hair tickles against your skin, and he sighs in content.

“i think i want to be your husband for real.”

“yeah?”

“yeah,” he mumbles and nuzzles further into your hold. “y’ve got the same ring size still, right?”

“i sure do,” you say, a content smile on your lips as you watch him slowly doze off to sleep.

“hm, good to know.”

for satoru, those nicknames make him feel as if he’s something even greater than a person—it makes him feel yours.

he’s not just gojo, the strongest. he’s not just satoru, the at-times somewhat immature adult with the sweet tooth of a child.

he’s yours. your baby. your honey bun. your boo bear. your mochi. your boyfriend. your love. and for satoru, there’s no greater thing in the world than that.

[yuujispinkhair]

Going insane at the thought of being on vacation with modern!boyfie Sukuna, and he takes you to a nice restaurant for dinner, making sure that you have a table for two in a cozy corner, all romantic with candlelight and wine. He’s holding hands with you on the table, playing with your fingers while chatting with you. And he’s so flirty and sweet, giving you butterflies with the charming things he says and the way he grins and looks at you with so much love in his eyes. The intimidating bad boy all tame and sweet just for you. From time to time he even brings your hand to his lips and kisses it while looking deeply in your eyes, in a way that tells you without words that Sukuna is truly yours. Just like you are his.

You walk back to your hotel hand in hand. And you lean against Sukuna, swooning at how tall and strong he is. Swooning at how nice it is to be here with him. How sweet it is to talk to him and laugh with him. And it hits you suddenly how close Sukuna and you are. How intimate it feels to be on vacation just the two of you, spending time together away from your everyday lives. Sukuna’s large hand tightens around yours, and you know without looking, that he is smiling right now, probably thinking the same.

[awearywritersworld]

when you knock on gojo's apartment door with a tear stained face and wobbly lips, he doesn't waste time.

and by that i mean he doesn't ask questions. he doesn't check the hall to see if anyone's around. he doesn't acknowledge the lateness of the hour.

no, he barely even processes the state you're in before he's pulling you against his chest.

and he holds onto your frame so tightly, as if you're his lifeline. though in this particular moment, it's undoubtedly the other way around.

the air surrounding the two of you remains quiet until he hears you stutter out his name.

"what happened?" he asks gently.

"i-i'm just overwhelmed," you mumble against the fabric of his shirt. "i don't understand why things always have to be so difficult."

even though you aren't entirely positive you're making sense, he hums in way that makes you feel understood.

"do you wanna talk about it?"

you shake your head no. the thought of having to discuss your problems evokes an uncomfortable feeling of dread in the pit of your stomach.

you just want to be held, and gojo is happy to oblige. "alright."

he doesn't say anymore, nor he does he move an inch, save for the small circles his thumb is drawing against your shoulder blade.

he stands there with you until you decide to pull away from him and really, he doesn't mind one bit. he's positive that there isn't a single thing in the world more deserving of his time.

[etherealyoungk]

charming stranger | jeon wonwoo

SUMMARY: in which you meet a mysterious and charming man while feeding some stray cats and you can't seem to stop thinking about him (and neither can he)

PAIRING: biker!wonwoo x reader

THEMES: biker au, strangers to lovers, fluff, soft love

WARNINGS: biker wonwoo, tattooed wonwoo, just wonu & reader being down bad for each other

WORDCOUNT: 4.6k

A/N: this is kind of a prequel based on this fic. but it can be read as a standalone as well! just had to indulge in biker wonwoo again <3

you're sitting down at the convenience store, finishing up the last few bites of your ramen. the night is running late and you look outside at the clouds that threaten to burst with rain any minute now. you get up, discarding the empty packets and bowl in the trash can as you walk outside. you walk up the road to a small quiet alley and you can already hear the meows of the cats as you approach. but then you spot a figure standing around the cats and you furrow your brows in confusion.

you'd heard about someone reportedly poisoning cats in the other neighbourhood and you thought that this was what was happening. you don't know what came over you, but you rush up to the man, causing the cats to scatter. "hey! leave them alone!", you yell as you storm up towards the tall stranger and he turns around, confused at the sudden commotion.

"what are you doing? you leave those cats alone, or i'll call the cops! i know what you're doing", you add, holding out your fist in a weak attempt to appear strong, ready to karate chop this man if needed. you can't catch his face well in the dim light, but he was extremely tall and in hindsight, you'd be no match against him.

the man - wonwoo is utterly confused. he was just trying to feed the cats like he always did, but you've come out of nowhere, yelling at him and scaring away the cats. he steps into the light and you finally catch a glimpse of his face. his hair is long and grown into a short shaggy mullet and falls over his forehead as he looks at you, intrigued.

"i think there's been a misunderstanding, i'm just feeding the cats", he tells, his voice deep, cutting through the silence of the night.

"yeah right mister, you better move on or else i'm really calling the cops", you tell, whipping out your phone and dialling the police number, keeping it ready.

you look around and watch the cats slowly move back in, walking towards the man and meowing. a few of them come towards you too, rubbing against your legs as they meow up at you. wonwoo doesn't know if you're serious or you were joking because he stands there frozen, unmoving as he takes you in; your phone out, standing tall with a scowl adorning your face as you try to look scary, but in reality, you just looked cute to him.

"how can you harm those cats, how do you sleep at night?? now seriously move, shoo", you tell, stepping closer as you attempt to make this man go away. wonwoo steps away, quiet and amused at the situation unfolding in front of him. he walks away quietly, confused and he walks back into the shop, not looking back. you bend down and make sure the cats are okay before you give them some kibble.

it starts to rain after a few minutes, the clouds bursting and the rain pouring down in a steady pace. the cats make a run for it and so do you, heading back to the convenience store. you walk inside in a huff when the cashier sees you. just then the man who was outside comes up to the counter. you're about to open your mouth to speak but the cashier speaks first.

"did the cats eat okay? bummer it had to start raining now", the elderly man says as you walk up front. "he feeds them too, every day. those cats really are lucky, getting their bellies full every day", he adds, his head gesturing to the stranger and you blink at the cashier before glancing at the stranger again.

"oh", is all you can say as you realise that you'd falsely accused the man. he really was just trying to feed the cats. "that's nice", you tell through gritted teeth, trying not to look at the man again because you are beyond embarrassed. you would have very much liked to bury yourself in the ground right now.

the stranger pays for his stuff and goes to the other side near the window, placing his stuff on the table. he pulls out a chair and takes a seat as he looks out the window like he's pondering when the rain might stop. wonwoo only spares you a glance after a few seconds, seeing you stand by the cash counter. he doesn't make much of it and leaves as soon as the rain stops a bit.

after a few days, you find yourself at the convenience store again after a long day at work. it's late and you're too tired to even think of cooking. so you grab your favourite ramen from the shelf, along with other snacks. you make your ramen and sit down to eat. you're in the middle of eating when you hear a pair of heavy boots against the tile floor. after a few seconds, you see a figure next to you in your peripheral vision and it's the stranger. he looks at you as he sits on the chair beside you.

"late night?", he asks and you turn to look at him, realising he was talking to you. you nod your head as you chew. you'd think that after what you did, he'd hold a grudge against you but no, he looked...calm. you wordlessly finish eating your food and the man gets up at the same time you do. he heads out and you rush to discard your trash as you run over to catch up to him.

"hey wait!", you call out as you step out of the store. he turns around as you walk up to him. you stand there in front of him for a few awkward seconds before speaking. "i'm sorry about the other day", you say. "that's alright", he says gently and it catches you off guard. he walks off and you watch as he hops onto his bike and rides off.

over the next few days, you can't seem to stop thinking about the mystery man, the charming stranger. you didn't even get his name, yet he seemed to occupy your mind. you were somehow hoping you'd bump into him again,but you didn't - until today.

it's the weekend and you're grocery shopping when you spot the charming stranger in the fresh produce aisle. your jaw almost drops at the sight of him because holy shit. he's clad in black jeans and a black top that seems to hug his figure a little too well, highlighting his biceps and well-built physique. his short sleeves expose his arms and well-built biceps. your eyes trail down to his arm that's adorned with intricate tattoos, each telling a story, making you gasp softly at the sight. his hair is adorably messy and touseled, falling over his forehead and eyes. the cherry on the top is the thin wired glasses that sit on the bridge of his nose, adding to the unexpected charm, and making him look undeniably hot.

you watch as he casually picks out carrots and fuck, you don't think you've ever seen a finer man in your entire life as you continue to stare at him. finally, you tear your eyes away when you realise you've been staring a little too long. slowly, you feel your cheeks heat up at the sudden realisation and you turn around, telling yourself to snap out of it. there was no way you were crushing on the stranger, right?

you walk away and busy yourself with shopping your grocery list. you're trying to reach up to get the big box of cereal but it's too high up on the shelf. with your arm stretched out, you jump a bit and try to reach out for it but you can't. just then a figure comes up behind you, a hand reaching out for the cereal box with ease and you turn around to see the charming stranger in front of you.

"here", he says as he hands you the box of cereal and you take it without a word. up close, he looks even more attractive. your eyes sneak a glance to his tattoos again and you look back up at him, perhaps a little too stunned at the sight of this hot man in front of you. "t-thank you", you stumble out, mentally cringing at how you sounded just now.

"i like that cereal too", he fills in and you can only nod in agreement because he looks so fine, you're actually rendered speechless. wonwoo watches the way your eyes look him up and down, lingering at his tattoos. he was just thinking about you the other day and here you are in front of him, looking nervous.

you both part ways again and you finish billing up your items, carrying your bag and struggling a little because of how heavy the bag is. you walk ahead, hauling up the bag and holding it with both hands as you walk. you turn around the corner but you stop and take a step back, almost losing your balance as you bump into someone. "woah there", a voice says, causing you to turn around as you regain your balance. it was the charming stranger again.

"oh um hi...again", you fumble out, finding yourself nervous all over again. "do you need help, it looks like you're struggling", he says, his hand already reaching out to take the bag from your hands before you could even protest.

"oh, i can manage", you tell, your hands awkwardly folded as you don't know what to do with them now. "you live nearby right?", he prompts and you nod. "great, then i'll walk you home", he fills in and you stand there awestruck for a few seconds before you snap out of it and nod again.

wonwoo really thinks you're scared of him because all you do is nod your head to whatever he says. he was used to getting some weird looks from people, but really, the last thing he wanted to do was scare you away.

you stand there for a few seconds in silence as wonwoo looks at you with a small tilt to his head, waiting for you to lead the way. "oh, right, um...", you stutter out and walk ahead, wonwoo follows beside you.

"no bike today?", you finally speak and wonwoo swears his breath catches in his throat when he hears you speak. "no, i decided to give her a break, so i walked here", he replies and you nod. when you turn around by the convenience store, you tell wonwoo that you can walk home from here. you take the bag from his hand, telling him thank you and head your way home. wonwoo really starts to think that you don't like him and it disappoints him a little, because in reality, he's really intrigued by you.

later that week you buy some extra cat food, some for the regular stray cats and you take some home for the pregnant cat you'd rescued a few days back. she's just wandered into your house and was meowing so you took her in. you're sitting on the floor as you watch her eat, and judging from how pregnant she looked, you could tell she was due any day now.

wonwoo hopes to see you again. so, he heads out more in an attempt to bump into you more, either at the grocery store or convenience store. he takes out his bike and waits outside the convenience store that evening, hoping you'd drop by - and you do. you're walking by, completely oblivious to wonwoo as you walk into the store, humming to yourself as you grab some snacks from the shelf. wonwoo gets off his bike and heads inside, making his way towards you.

"hi", he says, his voice deep and you turn around, surprised. "oh, hello", you respond softly at the sight of the charming stranger - yet you still don't know his name. he looks at you with a softened gaze, his hair a cute mess as always (or because he kept running a nervous hand through it).

"i was going to feed the cats today", he adds, trying to make conversation and he sees the small smile that tugs at the corner of your lips. "that's good", you reply as you walk up to the cashier and pay for your stuff. you end up fumbling with your wallet as wonwoo stands behind you and you swear you can hear your heart thumping in your chest. your turn around and walk outside, wonwoo following behind, in hopes he hasn't scared you off again.

"i never got your name", you hear wonwoo speak and you turn around. "i'm yn", you tell and he smiles. "i'm wonwoo", he responds and you nod your head at the information.

"i'll see you around i guess", you tell before giving him a small wave and walking in the direction home.

wonwoo, you repeat the name softly and smile to yourself. you finally had a name for the charming stranger.

that week you end up seeing wonwoo more. you find him at the store, feeding the cats or just in the neighbourhood more often. you'd come to recognise his bike and you'd spot it parked around more often than before. but little did you know wonwoo was only coming out more often to see you. you slowly talk to him more that week and wonwoo is glad that you don't run away from him again. he really wanted to get to know you more. that night as you're picking up some ramen for dinner when you spot wonwoo again.

"another late night?", he asks and you nod. "yeah gosh, i need a break", you mutter out as you contemplate between the two flavours of ramen in your hands.

"which one?", you ask, holding out both options for wonwoo to choose from. he looks between them both before deciding on the spicy cheese one. you pay for the stuff and step out, spotting wonwoo's bike parked outside.

"your bike is cool", you offer as you slow down, turning around, a little shy and nervous. somehow being around wonwoo always made you so nervous. maybe because it was because he was so good-looking, and maybe also because he looked a little intimidating. but you'd come to realise that he was actually the complete opposite. he was so soft, sweet and gentle - and that contrast drew you more into him.

"i can give you a ride on it if you want? drop you home", he asks gently, a little uncertainty laced in his voice. "oh, not that's fine", you tell, shaking your head. to be honest, the thought of riding on his bike scared you a bit. but then you look up at him and his words register in your mind again.

"wait, are you flirting with me?", you ask as you glance up at him, a little confused. he only blinks before a sheepish grin forms. "i've been flirting with you for a week now, thanks for finally noticing", he tells, rubbing the back of his neck as he lets out a nervous chuckle.

"oh", is all you say as you suddenly feel very stupid. this is the reason you were and would remain single you thought. "i should go, it's getting late", you finally speak, bidding wonwoo goodbye as you leave. wonwoo thinks he's messed up and he sighs to himself as he watches you walk away.

two weeks later the cat you've rescued had littered and the kittens were just starting to open their eyes and move around. you'd not seen wonwoo around that much lately and you thought maybe something happened. you'd even asked the cashier at the store but he said he didn't know. you walk out and are about to walk home when you see wonwoo's familiar bike turn around the corner as he zips past you. you watch as he goes and you decide to wait a bit, in the hopes that he'd come back. you really wanted to see him tonight and tell him about the kittens. you had started to grow fond of him. but you wait and wait and he doesn't come back, so you sigh in defeat and leave, walking back home.

wonwoo thinks you've rejected him and he doesn't know what to do. he starts to go out less and not show up anymore. but little did he know that you were the one who was waiting for him now, hoping you'd get the chance to see him again.

in the quiet hum of the convenience store, wonwoo hesitates near the entrance, his thoughts swirling with uncertainty. as wonwoo contemplates something, a familiar face catches his eye - you. a rush of warmth floods his chest as he watches you. he sees the way your head lifts up, your eyes spotting him. a smile immediatly blooms on your face at the sight of wonwoo. he freezes, breath catching in his throat, unable to tear his gaze away from you. you stand up in a rush and run outside, towards wonwoo.

"wonwoo! there you are! i've been waiting for you", you tell when you're close enough and his heart jumps at your words. you were waiting for him?

"i thought i wouldn't see you again, guess you've gotten busy huh", you add and wonwoo can only blink down at you as you smile at him as you speak. his heart almost melts when you look at him like that, with that pretty smile adorning your face as you talk to him.

"i rescued this pregnant cat and she littered a few weeks back. the kittens are adorable and i wanted to tell you", you say excitedly as you look up at wonwoo. you wanted to tell him?

"that's sweet", wonwoo finally says, his voice sweet and deep, accompanied by a gentle smile. his hair is still damp from taking a shower earlier as it falls over his eyes and he's wearing that black shirt again that makes him look effortlessly good. paired with those glasses perched on his nose, enhancing his already captivating presence, you swear you're about to go feral at the sight of wonwoo again as you take in his appearance.

"do you want to see them?", you blurt out, the words out of your mouth before you can think. wonwoo looks at you for a second before he responds, his heart racing. "sure".

and that's how you're walking to your place. wonwoo offered you a ride on his bike again but you declined, preferring to walk instead. he doesn't press on the matter and walks with you. "are you okay? i didn't see you around, i thought something happened", you tell as you walk.

"yeah, just a little busy", he says instead, his voice tinged with relief that you wanted to see him again.

you turn around the corner and reach your house. you open the door and wonwoo walks in, following you inside. you can already hear the kittens meows in the room and you chuckle as you walk over to the box, pulling it out slowly to unveil the kittens to wonwoo. the kittens spot you and start to scramble out, climbing up and out of the box with determined feet. wonwoo bends down and offers his hand to one of the kittens, who walks into his palm.

wonwoo settles down on the floor and so you do. you watch as all the kittens storm over to him and climb all over him. you laugh again at the sight of him being ambushed by the army of kittens. "you're so cute", you tell and wonwoo feels his cheeks heat up when you call him that. he lets out a laugh, the sound of his sweet chuckle filling the air between you both.

after you'd played enough and the kittens seemed to have exhausted themselves quickly, you put them back in the box and get up, offering to make wonwoo some tea.

you place the mug of hot tea in front of wonwoo and sit next to him instead. he glances up as you settle beside him, a soft smile gracing your lips. wonwoo watches as your gaze drifts down to his arm, to the tattoos that adorn it. he can feel your curious gaze lingering on the inked patterns, your eyes tracing the lines with unspoken curiosity.

"do you have a favourite?", you ask, breaking the silence as you look up to meet wonwoo's eyes. "i guess i like them all, there's a story behind each of them", he responds and watches the curiosity in your eyes grow. wonwoo offers you the story behind one of the tattoos and watches as you eagerly listen, leaning in closer and he just hopes you can't hear how loud his heart is beating because of you.

you both end up spending more time together than intended but none of you make a move to leave. it's only when wonwoo glances at the time, seeing that it is late that he decides to excuse himself.

"i should probably get going", he says as he glances at the time. "oh-right", you tell quickly, a little defeated. you get up and wonwoo does too. you walk with him towards the door and he lingers at outside your door, like he wanted to tell you something.

"i'll see you around?", you ask, hopeful. "yeah", wonwoo replies softly, a smile gracing his lips as he meets your gaze. it's a fleeting moment, but in that exchange, he feels a connection, a spark of something more.

you watch as he leaves and you close your door, leaning back against it and closing your eyes. the realisation that you were crushing on him hard hits you like a wave. wonwoo realises that too as he walks but he stops. in that moment, determination seems to take hold of wonwoo because if he doesn't ask you now, he may never have the courage to do so again.

turning around, wonwoo retraces his steps, his heart pounding in his chest as he approaches your door once more. with a hesitant hand, he knocks on your door, startling you. you're surprised when you open the door and see wonwoo again, meeting his gaze.

wonwoo stands before you, uncertainty written across his features, but there's a determination shining in his eyes. in that moment, as you stand face to face, the air tinged with anticipation, wonwoo knows that he has to seize this chance.

"can i... can i ask you something?" he begins, his voice steady despite the nervous flutter in his stomach.

with a reassuring smile, you nod, silently urging him to continue. "sure, what's up?", you ask.

"i was wondering... if you'd like to go out with me sometime? for lunch maybe? or dinner" wonwoo asks, the words spill forth in a rush, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment as he lays bare his feelings before you.

for a moment, the world seems to hold its breath, the tension thickening in the air as you contemplate his question.

"like a date?", you ask softly as you peer up at wonwoo's hopeful and nervous gaze.

"yeah...i mean only if you want to", he adds quickly as he adjusts his glasses and runs a nervous hand through his hair. but then, a smile spreads across your face, genuine and bright, and the weight of uncertainty lifts from wonwoo's shoulders.

"i'd love to," you reply, your voice soft with sincerity. "i thought you'd never ask", you mumble softly. relief floods through wonwoo, washing away the last remnants of doubt as he meets your gaze with a gentle smile.

you're walking back home with wonwoo, his jacket draped over your shoulders as he drops you back home after yet another date. your hand is intertwined in wonwoo's. you reach home soon and wonwoo walks you up to your doorstep.

"i had a great time", you tell, peering up at him and a soft smile blooms on his lips. "me too", he replies.

"goodnight", he adds after a few seconds as he looks at you. he lingers in front of you, and so you do, not wanting the night to end. but there's something else on wonwoo's mind. his eyes flicker down to your lips and back up to your eyes, as he tries to build up the courage to kiss you goodnight.

"see you tomorrow?", you ask, since none of you seem to want to leave, wanting to stay in this moment. "yeah", he says, gulping nervously. his hand finds yours and you look up at him. his gaze flickered to your lips briefly, then back to your eyes, his expression a mix of longing and uncertainty.

"can i kiss you?", he asks, his words were barely a whisper, tinged with a husky intensity as he leans in ever so slightly, closing the gap between you both by a fraction. you nervously blink up at him as you meet his intense gaze, your heart pounding in your chest.

"yes", you say softly as you stand there.

wonwoo leans in a bit, his nose brushing against your cheek and he gently presses his lips to yours for a fleeting moment before pulling away. he's still close enough and he searches your eyes, your heart racing and all you know is you want more.

you reach your hand forward, pulling him closer by the collar of his shirt as you lean in to kiss him again, your lips meeting his again. he slowly moves his lips against yours this time. the kiss is slow and deliberate, the warmth of wonwoo's lips against yours sending a rush of heat through your body. his hand cups your cheek tenderly, while his other hand wraps around your waist, pulling you closer to him. your hands rest on his shoulders as you kiss him back. his touch gentle as you melt into the embrace, the world falling away around you as you lose yourself in the sweetness of the kiss.

wonwoo pulls away, his cheeks tinged with a delicate blush, mirroring your own as he looks at you. for a moment, neither of you dares to speak, the air heavy with the nervous energy between the both of you. the silence stretches on, punctuated only by the soft sound of your breaths mingling in the quiet space.

"i, um... that was..." wonwoo's voice trails off into a nervous murmur, his words getting lost in the trail of his thoughts.

you can't help but smile at his shyness, feeling a surge of affection for the man standing before you. "yeah, it was..." you murmur softly, your own voice tinged with a bashful warmth.

the tension between you both eases slightly. with a shy smile, you reach out to adjust wonwoo's glasses, pushing them back up on his nose.

"you're cute when you're nervous," you tease gently, the words laced with affection as you meet his gaze with a playful glint in your eyes. wonwoo's cheeks flush an even deeper shade of pink, a shy smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he meets your gaze. "so are you," he murmurs softly, his voice barely above a whisper as he leans in to brush a gentle kiss against your forehead.

taglist: @joshuaahong @fallingforshua29 @itsveronicaxxx @frankenstein852 @mirxzii @wheeboo @writingmeraki @wqnwoos @idubiluv

@paindivinemp3 @naaaaafla @weird-bookworm @icyminghao @kyeomyun @lvlystars @blue-jisungs @wootify @ihrtboo

@n4mj00nvq @yoozuku @manipulatedstars @lavenderwonu @leeknowloves

[soonyoungs]

[12:24 pm] - dokyeom

“hello,” he answers your call. his soft greeting is countered with the sound of your small sniffles. “baby,” he asks, voice shrouded in concern “hey, are you crying, what’s wrong” panic begins to set in as he rapid fires question after question only taking a short break to catch his breath. 

you use his pause to your advantage “kyeom,” your voice is small, weaker than he’s ever heard “i’ll be okay, just needed to hear your voice,” you reassure, voice wavering with each passing word “promise m’okay”.

dokyeom knows you well enough to understand that you’re not “okay”, but will talk about it on your terms and when you’re ready. “i’m here,” he’s silent for a while, letting his words sink in “i mean it, whatever you need consider it yours. need me to listen? my ears are yours. want me to come get you? i’m already halfway there. want something for dinner? i’m already in the kitchen,” he pauses before correcting himself “well… i’m already in the kitchen ordering your favorite takeout.” there’s a snort that can be heard through the receiver, no amount of muffling could hide it. dokyeom starts cackling, belly starting to hurt out of pure joy “there you are,” he manages between laughter “feeling a bit better now?” he asks, concern still dripping from his words.

“love you,” you sigh through the phone “i was just having a bad day,” you begin to slowly open up “my anxiety has been awful and all i wanted to do was hold your hand but i can’t just leave work to see you. hearing your voice when you answered the phone just pushed me over the edge,” you admit.

dokyeom hums in understanding. “i see,” you can hear the mischief in his words “i think you coming here to see me is a good enough reason to leave work, yup” he chuckles softly before turning serious “whenever you need me, im here for you, always”

[xiaominghao]

Mingyu is the type of boyfriend that will take care of you no matter what, because yes. An unexpected hug when you're feeling blue, a delicious dinner when you're too tired or busy, kisses on your forehead before going to work... Is something that comes naturally, and even tho he doesn't ask you something in rewards, Mingyu feels grateful and happy whenever you rely on him (but if you give him some cuddles and soft kisses before sleeping he won't be mad).

[pupkashi]

we all know gojo loves pda and will absolutely place sloppy and obnoxiously loud kisses all over your face in public,, but no one talks about how he absolutely will respect any and all boundaries you have </3

oh you don’t like kissing in public ? no problem ! he’s content and grinning ear to ear just holding your hand and having you close !!

he’ll stick to making you giggle and putting his hand softly on your lower back in crowds, whispering in your ear how pretty you look today, squeezing your hand when you tell him he looks handsome

you don’t want to cuddle during movie night because there’s guests over ? no worries, he’s sitting next to you with his thighs pressed against yours and he has your pinky’s looped together <3

the shared blanket, stolen glances and muffled giggles and enough for him to feel just as loved and warm as any other form of pda would

because as much as he loves pda and showing everyone you’re his, he loves you more and puts your boundaries and respecting you above everything else <33

masterlist

taglist (send an ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @4sat0ruu @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags @fushironi @nineooooo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @gojoshooter @sat6ru @beautiful-is-boring @luna0713hunter @torusmochi

[lightseoul]

you and me? really?

synopsis. mina and kirishima invite you to a night out. they conveniently forget to tell you it’s a double date. (part 2)

cw. gn!reader, gradstudent!reader, prohero!katsuki, aged-up (~23 yrs old), mina ashido x kirishima eijirou, fluff

word count. 1.7k words

Mina whines as you drag her into the bathroom of Kozue—the first red flag you should’ve noticed (who hosts a massive group hangout at an expensive ass restaurant?!)—but you’re far too angry to pay her any mind. She winces in disdain as you finally let her wrist go.

“Where’s everyone else?!” You whisper-shout.

“Uhh.. I might’ve left out a few details about this hangout.”

You can’t believe this girl. “No shit, Sherlock,” you sigh in exasperation. “Mina, you lied to me?”

Her eyes bug out in alarm, “I didn’t! I would never lie to you, you know that. As I said, I just omitted a few details.”

“Let me guess, like the fact that aside from you, me, and Eiji, the only other person attending is Bakugou?”

She lets out a squeak. Of guilt or excitement, you can’t tell.

You can’t help but roll your eyes, “Wipe that grin off your face. And you know he and I don’t really get along! And people can recognize you guys and think we’re on a double date. I barely even know the guy and his PR Team will be coming for my head tomorrow morning.”

“You don’t know that! You only met him once during the end of our patrol. He just gets extra snappy when he’s tired,” she giggles. “Oh, and don’t worry about the press. The chef owes Bakugou one—he offered to clear the restaurant just for tonight.”

You can’t believe your ears. Oh, to have the power and influence of a Pro Hero.

You shake your head in (another form of) disbelief, “So you’re not gonna say anything about you roping me into a double date?”

“Nope!” she exclaims cheerfully, turning her back to exit the bathroom. You follow suit, though unlike her, you’re not done with the conversation.

“How’d you guys manage to rope him into this, anyway?” You’d keep your voice down as you weave through the exquisitely prepped tables, but true to Mina’s word, there’s no one else around except Kirishima and Bakugou, who are seated at the far corner overlooking the city.

“Eiji used the same tactic,” she sing-songs. “He got annoyed earlier when he realized his predicament, but Eiji managed to talk him into staying. Said it would be cruel to leave you as our third wheel, or something.”

You chuckle despite yourself. Mina turns to grin at you.

“Right on.”

Turns out, dinner’s not half as bad as you thought it would be.

And regarding Bakugou? Well, the jury’s still out.

You can tell he’s barely fitting into the small chair beside you—which is actually regular-sized but dwarfs in comparison to his hulking figure—visibly uncomfortable.

He’s sporting a black long-sleeve, rolled up to his forearms, and slacks in light of the semi-formal dress code—the very code you panicked over earlier upon realizing that you didn’t have anything to wear. Luckily enough, you managed to dig out a good enough LBD, and opted to dress it up with some gold accessories you’ve had since college. And now you look even more like you’re on a date: matching colors and all. Great.

Kirishima, ever trusty Kirishima, just had to talk about your awkward situation among the group. (Which was incredibly unnecessary. Why not just ignore the elephant in the room?)

“We just missed the both of you!” he exclaims, while Mina, to his left, nods vigorously in agreement. “We haven’t caught up in a while. And, we figured we could be efficient and host a hangout instead—the four of us!”

Bakugou scoffs, looking away, “You guys are such a fuckin’ married couple already, with all that ‘we’ shit ya got going on. Makes me wanna gag.”

Your eyes widen in shock at his brazenness, but you can’t help but let out a stunned laugh.

His eyes flicker to yours at the sound. You could’ve sworn you saw the corners of his lips turn upward for a second before his infamous scowl took over his face again. Could’ve been amusement, but what’s that to you, right?

Mina pouts at his comment, while Kirishima only laughs wholeheartedly. Both brush it off, though, and you chalk it up to how they’ve gotten used to Bakugou’s bluntness after almost 10 years of seeing each other grow up.

“Anyway,” Mina interjects, “as we were saying, we missed you guys and also, thought both of you could use the company!”

“Ouch..?”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

You turn to address Bakugou, whose eyebrows are so furrowed deep into a scowl you’ve half a mind to press a finger against it so he wouldn’t wrinkle so early. “I think they think we’re lonely.”

You look at the lovebirds, “But thanks, though. I appreciate the thought and your inviting us out. It’s been a while since I took the time off of grad school and working part-time at Manual’s. Though,” you spare Bakugou a glance, who eyes you curiously, “I’m pretty sure he can get all sorts of company if he wanted to.”

What’s meant to be a factual observation turned into a flirtatious comment the second Mina and Kirishima lit up, both piqued with interest. Suddenly, you’re regretting all the life decisions that led you to this moment.

“Oooh, what’s that supposed to mean?!” Mina exclaims, clearly delighted, while Kirishima’s eyes flicker between the both of you, wearing a shit-eating grin.

You can’t bring yourself to look at Bakugou.

“What?” you’re exasperated at this point, “I’m just saying,” you gesture vaguely to the guy in question, “Bakugou’s objectively attractive. The three of you are!”

“Uh-huh.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“I’m serious!” you spring to your feet, “Hell, your entire UA class is! Well, except for Mineta, I guess.”

You hear a suppressed bark of laughter to your left. Mina and Kirishima are cracking up now, too. Suddenly feeling self-conscious about getting all riled up over their teasing, you sat back down.

“I’m sure all of you have experience and can score just about anyone.” You finish your rant, glad you got to wrap it up nicely before the two could get even further with teasing you about Bakugou in front of Bakugou.

You hear him grunt in response and see him, through your periphery, look down at his fancy plate of Porcini Mushroom Velouté. Finally, someone who agrees. Though, weirdly enough, it didn’t feel as good as you thought it would..

“Sorry for teasing you, Y/N!” Kirishima laughs, albeit quite sheepishly.

Mina nods, “But really, though, we’re glad you could come. Both of you.”

“Has he texted you yet?!”

You look back at the course syllabus and mountains of textbooks stacked on your desk, and you can’t help but heave a heavy sigh, “Really? This is what you called and dragged me out of my deep work for?”

“Come on!” Mina always sounds so cheerful and perky, talking to her makes you feel like you’re not 5 seconds away from crashing and sleeping through what’s supposed to be a serious study night. “He hasn’t, has he?”

“Well,” you decide to indulge her, “No other man has texted me in the last 24 hours except my Uber driver, so I guess my answer to that is no?”

“Very funny, Y/N. Ha ha.”

You grin in amusement. Two can play at this game.

You can hear her mutter a soft curse at the other end of the line, “Damn that Bakugou! He’s sure taking his sweet old time. After all that trouble of getting him to accept your number.”

“Cut it off, Mina. You should’ve tricked someone else who could actually be a good match for him instead of me.”

“What?!” she actually sounded shocked, “I didn’t choose you because you were convenient!”

“Thanks,” you deadpanned.

“Y/N! Sure, tricking you into joining was convenient, because you are both my and Eiji’s best friend, though I don’t think I need to explain that.”

“Sure, go on.”

You can practically hear Mina roll her eyes, “FY fricken I, both Eiji and I think you and Bakugou are a great match. You’re both driven, smart, and no-nonsense individuals who think they’re too busy and grown for romance.”

“That honestly sounds like a recipe for disaster, Mina.”

“People like you think that! But trust me, once you find the one, romance doesn’t seem so bad after all!”

“It doesn’t matter,” you mumble. “The lack of texts says enough. He probably just doesn’t think I’m interesting. So cut it off, please?”

You should’ve known better than to expect Mina to let things go just like that.

“Didn’t you see how he reacted when you called him attractive? He got so embarrassed, all red in the neck and ears. Eiji and I couldn’t stop talking about it last night—we’ve rarely seen him like that.”

You huff in slight irritation (and embarrassment), “It’s because you guys wouldn’t stop teasing us. I’d be flustered too if my friends kept tormenting me like that.”

Mina cackles, “Well, you were the one that gave us classic material to work with.”

“I’m hanging up.”

“No, wait!”

You sigh for the nth time in this conversation, “I was busy trying to hype you up and convince all of you of your attractiveness, thank you very much. So no, I didn’t see his reaction.”

“Yeah, that was very kind of you,” Mina exhales wistfully. “Anyway, I’d dare say he even got disappointed when you started complimenting me and Eiji too!”

You could only hear a second of her high-pitched laugh before clicking the End Call button.

Normally, hanging up on your best friend would make you feel bad, no matter how angry or annoyed you were at her.

But this? This is an emergency.

You clutch your heart, which is now hammering at an alarmingly faster pace than normal.

Fuck, you think to yourself. You cannot be crushing on Bakugou Katsuki.

Before you can spiral and go into an I-can’t-have-a-crush-much-less-on-a-pro-hero-named-Bakugou-induced panic, your phone chimes, indicating a new text message.

You bring it up to eye level, and you can’t help but gawk when you finally see the message content.

Hey, it's Bakugou.

[murdockparker]

Expectations

Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Summary: While the honeymoon may be well and over, the new Mrs. Bridgerton has yet to make her presence in the ton since the wedding. Anxious as ever, she listens to her husband and gives it a go.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy, reader is not pregnant, reader does not wish to be a mother, illusions to sex but no smut, drinking and drunkenness, fluffy fluff

A/N: Given the setting and time period, not wanting children is rather taboo, I feel. But not everyone wishes to be a mom and that's okay! I hope I did Benedict (and reader!!) justice!

__

On a far too quiet night in London, candles were beginning to grow short, along with the patience of a newly made missus.

“Must I go tomorrow?” (Y/N) sighed, turning to face her husband in earnest, placing her hairbrush on the vanity. 

“And possibly insult Lady Danbury again this season?” Benedict scoffed, looking up from his sketchbook. He had been making good on his earlier promise of the eve, giving his wife a worthwhile portrait. He had already made countless, of course, but this one was to be the best yet. “Darling you cannot keep avoiding her forever."

“Here I thought that was a Bridgerton specialty,” (Y/N) hummed, turning back to her mirror, keen to note Benedict’s crooked smirk in the reflection. “But if you insist that I cut our honeymoon short—”

“You know better than I that our honeymoon is well and over,” Benedict said, suddenly at his wife’s side, hands growing restless on her shoulders. “As much as it pains me to admit, and it does, truly, the rest of the ton is far too eager to make the newest Mrs. Bridgertons acquaintance.”

Kisses were peppered down her neck, just below her ear, warm and sticky enough to halt her thinking. “Life was much easier in the country,” she reminisced fondly. The lady was unsure if the fact her husband was making dutiful work on her skin was clouding her judgment, but her mind yearned for the weeks they had spent in bed, alone and carefree. “No need for this… fodder.”

“Ah to be a woman in the season,” Benedict jested, brushing her hair aside. “But I do think it’s a right idea to go to the soiree. If it makes you feel better, I do believe the duchess is planning to attend.”

(Y/N) groaned, pushing Benedict away. “Just as you begin to seduce your wife you find it fair to mention your younger sister?” 

He could only laugh. “I was unaware I was seducing my wife, I merely thought I was helping with her hair.”

“And the fine work on my neck was helpful... how?”

His fingers brushed through her hair again, slowly, deliberately. “Well, considering I was partially to blame for it’s unruliness, I figured I could only offer my services. I fear it came across as unhelpful.”

She fought back a grin. “I will go to Lady Danbury’s soiree,” (Y/N) said, looking Benedict in the eyes through the mirror. “But only if you promise to assist with the rest of my… hair.”

“What kind of a husband would I be if I refused?”

—

The carriage ride was as uneventful as she could have imagined. Not only did she loathe the rocking of the cab, but to not have Benedict’s company across from her—or under her—made the entire ordeal less appealing. Still, she persisted through the boredom and arrived to Danbury House, fashionably on time. 

“Mrs. Bridgerton,” Lady Danbury greeted, flicking her cane towards the not-so-new bride. “How lovely you managed to pry yourself from your cottage in the country and rejoin proper society.”

“Lady Danbury,” (Y/N) bowed, smiling as politely as she could. “You think little of me, I would never dare to miss one of your illustrious eves. My mother always spoke fondly of them—as truthful as she decided to be with me, that is.”

“A shame your mother isn’t joining us, those nasty headaches of hers will surely do her in.”

“Father sent for a tea from France,” (Y/N) recalled from her last correspondence with her parents. “I believe it was a recommendation from you, if I am not mistaken?”

“Your parents would do well from listening to me from time to time, I should hope you take the same advice,” Lady Danbury smiled, looking directly at (Y/N), gaze narrowing. “Do enjoy yourself tonight, dear. One tends to forget oneself whilst in a marriage.”

A footman ushered her into the great hall, handfuls of married women of the ton flocked to the walls, drinks already in hand. A few familiar faces flitted her memory as she walked past. Lady Green and Mrs. Harrison, both far too eager to set her up with their respective sons in the last season, smiled kindly as she nodded towards them. Dowager Countess Fairbanks was eagerly replacing her empty glass with another, the loss of Earl Fairbanks was still fresh in the public eye, it seemed. Then, there was Lady Kent, smoking away in the corner, grateful no men were around to stop such nonsense.

“Mrs. Bridgerton! I did not expect to see you here!”

(Y/N) turned to the cheery voice, belonging only to the Duchess Hastings herself.

“Your Grace,” (Y/N) smirked, addressing her sister-in-law properly.

“Daphne,” the duchess corrected, as she had many a time during (Y/N)’s courtship with Benedict. “I must say, I hardly think anyone expected your presence tonight. Surely my brother couldn’t have found it in himself to allow you to escape for the evening easily.”

“I shall spare you the sordid details of my trickery,” (Y/N) said with a murmur, her voice laced with a secret. “Considering they involve your brother and whatever little clothing he possessed.”

“Oh please,” Daphne waved. “You are married, I hardly think it is much to guess you and Benedict have been in such a state thus far.”

“If I may be so honest,” (Y/N) giggled, accepting a flute of a bubbly drink from a server, “he was the one who begged me to attend this evening. I was more of the mind to stay in and continue to enjoy our library here in London.”

“I did not know Benedict’s bachelor lodgings possessed a library.”

“They did not, which is why we purchased a new estate not too far from your Mama’s,” (Y/N) said with a smile. “‘Bachelor no more’, I believe were his exact words when he showed me the deed. It’s quite a lovely place. If I did not prefer the country so much I think I would like to stay here year-round.”

“I expect an invitation for tea sometime, then,” Daphne cooed, clearly overjoyed at her new sister’s happiness. “I assume there’s an adequate number of rooms?”

“Enough for a proper studio for Benedict’s leisure, a modest library for myself, an enchanting dining room and…” Her glass raised to her lips nervously. “I believe that to be all.”

“No nursery, then?”

“You Bridgertons and baby-rearing,” (Y/N) said, nearly sputtering her drink. “I say, you’re already on baby three, is that not correct?”

Daphne nearly radiated with joy at the mere mention of her children—a doting mother in every regard. “Oh yes, number three will be joining us in due time,” her hand grazing over her apparent bump. “But I believe you neglected to answer my question.”

“I think I am in need of far more drink to even entertain the question, dear sister,” (Y/N) downed the rest of her drink, hoping the dim lighting did an adequate job hiding her growing flush. 

“Very well,” Daphne conceded, still holding her small bump as if it were the most precious thing in the world. “I believe Kate has begun in the game room if you wish to join me in finding her?”

“Spending my night with my darling new sisters? Without my husband or your brothers to muck up our conversations and vex us? I must say, that might be your best idea yet, Your Grace. 

The duchess merely laughed as she led present company into the ballroom—now outfitted with many tables to accommodate the games of the night’s festivities. (Y/N)’s eyes went wide, clearly taken aback by the sheer sight of it all. Wives and widows alike, smoking and drinking over every inch of the transformed ballroom.

“I can’t imagine how you’ve managed to come to many of these things,” she shuddered in awe, leaning closer to Daphne.

“I haven’t,” Daphne said truthfully. “I’m usually back at Clyvedon with my family, it just so happens I’m in town on other business this go around to not ignore Lady Danbury.”

While it was difficult to get the Bridgertons all under one roof—with each new marriage and child that task became even more daunting—the brood did get together recently to celebrate the christening of both Edmund and Belinda. Anthony’s first and Daphne’s second. It wasn’t much of a shock that Daphne shared the news of a third Basset at the christening, either.

“Regardless,” (Y/N) took her place at a game table, sitting beside the duchess. “I’d much appreciate the evening to move swiftly, lest I spend more time away from home than I need.”

“Eager to get back in the bedroom with Benedict?”

The new Viscountess Bridgerton, Kate, spoke up behind the ladies as she took it upon herself to be seated next to her sisters.

“I was thinking more along the lines of his study,” (Y/N) hummed, feeling herself grow warm with honesty. “Perhaps our library? We do have a handful of new rooms to enjoy and christen, I think.”

“I recall making a similar promise to Anthony after our honeymoon,” Kate reminisced, smiling wickedly. “Makes me miss such a time in my marriage.”

“Miss a time?” (Y/N) laughed, accepting a drink from a roaming server. “You and Anthony only have been wed a bit over a year. Surely the flame has not died out?”

“No, no, not died out,” Kate quickly corrected. “It’s just, now with Edmund in our care, our flame has dimmed a bit—exhaustion keeps us both at bay to get at it like we once did.”

“Simon and I had a similar take after Amelia and Belinda,” Daphne chimed in. 

“Yet here you are, awaiting your third child in three years,” Kate barked with laughter.

“As you said, sister,” Daphne sipped her lemonade, “it merely dimmed.”

If her face had blanched, the dim lighting of the game room had the entire part of disguising her discomfort at the idea—the mere idea that her want for Benedict could possibly wane. 

“Dimmed,” (Y/N) repeated. 

“Say, it’s been a few months since your wedding,” Kate noted, “do you and Benedict have plans for children soon? I expect with your new house a nursery is just begging to be filled.”

A polite laugh escaped her lips, humor long forgotten. “We haven’t much discussed the matter of children.”

“Oh, come off it!” Kate admonished. “Surely you and your husband want to aid in the Bridgerton grandchildren numbers? I recall Anthony mentioning an old wager between them on who would have the most children."

“A wager—you’re not serious?” 

“Oh, that was merely a jest between brothers, I’m sure,” Daphne said, placing her steady hand on (Y/N)’s. Even in the candlelight, she could tell her newest sister-in-law was having no part in this conversation. “And knowing my brothers, it cannot be held to any regard.”

“Anthony seemed serious enough about it when I was carrying Edmund,” Kate shrugged. “No matter! We are here to play cards, yes?”

It was hard to pay attention to the game at hand—literally. With doubt and endless thoughts swimming through the new Mrs Bridgerton’s head, her glass never emptied and her mind never ceased. She won a sizable amount of money somehow—Daphne mumbled something along the lines of ‘rotten cards��� as she pushed the notes and coins to (Y/N)’s pot. 

“You’re sure you do not wish to spend the night here?” Lady Danbury offered much later in the evening, just as nearly every guest had left. Only the Bridgerton ladies remained. “I can have a guest room made up in a blink.”

“Ben will be anxious for my arrival,” (Y/N) slurred, trying to remain upright. “I shan’t keep him waiting.”

“I thought we intercepted enough of her drinks,” Daphne whispered, words only meant for Kate.

“She must have snuck a few on her way to the chamberpot,” the viscountess realized, albeit a bit too late. 

“I can handle my drinks just fine,” (Y/N) said, trying to cross her arms. It only took her two attempts. “Honestly, I just want to get home to my husband, thank you.”

“I will ride with her to her estate,” Daphne offered, already getting in (Y/N)’s carriage. “My carriage will follow close behind and I will retreat as soon as I see her enter her home safely.”

“What a good sister you are,” (Y/N) cooed, hand cupping Daphne’s face lovingly. “I wish I had a sister like you.”

“If you remember anything, let it be this, please just write to me in the morning,” Kate sighed, giving up hope on the cause. “Lest you want an angry visit from me tomorrow after you break your fast.”

“Get home safe,” (Y/N) listed, “write to Kate, do not make her angry. I think I got it.”

“Perhaps we should pin a note to her dress?” Lady Danbury laughed.

“I shall tell one of the maids to remind her,” Daphne said. “So she has no excuse.”

“You lot are being awfully nice to me,” (Y/N) said, stepping up into the carriage. The footmen were doing most of the work. “Nicer than I deserve right about now.”

“You’re family,” Kate said simply. “Besides, I reckon we have a part to play on just how much you’ve drank…”

“Quite,” Daphne nodded. (Y/N) began to look rather green. “Lady Danbury, I don’t suppose you have a pot or vase you don’t care much about?”

Wordlessly, a butler came running, holding a rather ornate bowl in his hands. After passing it off to the duchess, (Y/N) took it quickly and held it close to her head. 

“Do make sure Mrs. Bridgerton cleans it thoroughly before returning it.”

—

The sunlight hurt. 

In all of her years on this planet, the sunlight had never hurt as much as it did in this moment. A errant afternoon in the park, perhaps, leaving her skin a tad bit warm to the touch, but never did it sting like this.

“Ah, you’re awake,” Benedict sighed, walking over to her side of the bed. When had she gotten in bed?

“Unfortunately,” (Y/N) groaned, somehow managing to pull herself up to be seated. Her husband—doting as he was—had a tray of food and a pitcher of water waiting for her. “What’s this?”

“Charcoal,” Benedict tried his best to make it sound appetizing. By the look on his wife’s face, it had failed. “I had Cook mix it with some marmalade on bread to help with the taste. You need to sop up the booze somehow, love.”

“I didn’t drink that much,” (Y/N) lied, knowing full well she couldn’t fool even herself with it.

“I have never seen you in such a state,” Benedict nearly whispered, setting the silver tray on her lap. “I already sent correspondence to Daphne to thank her for insuring you got home safely.”

She took a hesitant bite of the bread. It wasn’t as awful as she imagined. Left much to be desired, sure, but it would do the job.

“I sent to Kate,” Benedict continued. “Told her you would meet her for tea later this week, as you obviously needed your sleep this morning.”

Another bite of the bread managed to go down before she reached for the glass of water in Benedict’s hand. “Thank you for that.”

“I’m still at a loss, however,” Benedict sighed. “What exactly went on at Danbury House?”

“I believe I need far more charcoal bread to entertain that conversation.”

“(Y/N).”

“It was a ladies night,” she chewed, trying her best to swallow her bite. “I cannot share what lewd gossip possibly came from it.”

He didn’t seem satisfied with that answer, beginning to wring his wrists mindlessly as he searched for the correct words to say. She hadn’t seen him do it since the day he proposed. Benedict Bridgerton was anxious.

“You said something, last night,” he finally confessed.

“I reckon I said a lot last night,” (Y/N) laughed lightly, polishing off her unfortunate breakfast.

“As I was trying to get you into bed, you kept mumbling a bunch of incoherent nonsense,” Benedict smirked lightly, “most of it made me laugh.”

“Glad to be a never-ending source of your entertainment.”

“You mentioned something about a baby.”

She didn’t dare look up at him.

“A few times, actually,” Benedict said. “Now, I don’t know what came of it, perhaps Daphne’s new addition sparked such an interest or you are with child now but—”

“But you wish for a baby,” (Y/N) finished for him, clasping her hands together. “Soon, yes?”

“What?”

“You purchased a new estate,” her hand motioned to their large bedchamber, “with various new rooms to fill with Bridgerton babies. A nursery already set up by our staff is only just down the hall. It’s only natural you expect that of me, given our honeymoon is over.”

“I bought our new home because my bachelor lodgings had nothing you loved,” Benedict corrected. “You yourself said you wished for an extensive library—I merely acted on those wishes.”

“Everyone expects us to have a baby soon,” (Y/N) groans, head in her hands. “All night I kept getting bombarded with questions and speculations about it! Most of it came from my very own family! Sure, I can handle a bit of gossiping from ladies who have nothing better to talk about, but my new family?”

“I had no idea—”

“It was the sole reason I had no desire to go last eve!” (Y/N) finally shouted, as if she meant to reach the heavens. “I know what is expected of me as a wife but what if—what if I don’t wish for that?”

“You do not wish for children?”

“No!” (Y/N) shook her head. “Well, maybe? Augh! I do not know!”

Benedict’s weight shifted on the bed, having now sat by his wife’s legs. “You do not need to know.”

“Of course I do,” she gasped. “I was raised for two things—to marry a respectable man and to have his respectable babies. One of those things I accomplished without much of a second thought—” 

“I’m glad you thought so little about marrying me,” Benedict jested.

“That is not what I meant and you know it.”

“It made you smile, so I think the comment was well worth it.”

It had made her smile, she realized. The near-permanent frown of the morning seemed to have eased away with her husband’s jest.

“Every time someone asked me about it,” (Y/N) finally admitted, “I found another drink to drown myself in. I don’t believe anyone but perhaps Daphne really saw what was happening.”

“Does the idea of children really cause you such anguish?”

“It’s just—we’re so happy now,” (Y/N) took Benedict’s hand in her own. “I don’t want to muck up the joy and elation we have in each other by bringing a baby into the mix so soon.”

“We never really spoke on the topic,” Benedict said. “In our courtship, I mean. Usually a topic such as that one finds its way onto the stage, but somehow we evaded it.”

She held her breath.

“Truth be told, I never really gave children much of a thought, if at all,” Benedict chuckled, “far too interested in other pursuits. But, that’s not to say such a topic hasn’t been on my mind of late.”

“Has it?”

“Well, with my new nieces and nephew running around—crawling, I suppose—it may have sparked interest in me, yes,” Benedict looked directly at his wife. “But, for all intents and purposes, having a child requires two people and if you have any hesitancy in the topic—no matter little or seemingly small—I do not wish to further the endeavor.”

“What if I am never ready?” Her voice was small, the sound nearly dissolving against the down of the bedding.

“Then we will live a perfectly happy life regardless. You with your books and me with my paint,” Benedict squeezed her hand. Full of love, full of support. “More importantly, we will live such a happy life together.”

Perhaps it was the headache, or the pain from the bright morning sun, but (Y/N) felt the tears she had been holding back finally spill down her cheeks. Without even a second thought, Benedict pulled her into his arms and allowed her to cry, rubbing her back with thoughtful circles. He had somehow already moved the tray out of the way, as if he was preparing for a reaction like this. He knew her too well, knew her better than anyone could ever plan to know her. This thought only made her cry harder.

“What did I do to deserve you?” (Y/N) asked no one in particular, sniffling as she tried to compose herself. 

“I rather think I should be asking you that,” Benedict said softly, kissing her brow.

“You truly do not care if I never decide to want children?” (Y/N) asked again, needing to hear her husband’s answer one more time.

“You could decide tomorrow and change your mind a hundred times and I will always be in your corner,” Benedict said seriously. “That is what a husband does. That is what I do for you.”

She smiled.

“Although, I will need to take special care in ensuring you do not become with child accidentally—we’ve been lucky thus far, but I do not consider myself much of a betting man…”

“Were the races last week an oversight, then?”

“Ah, but that was a sure thing,” Benedict snuggled her closer, “what was merely a point to best my brother ended up with us having a healthy amount of spending money! More paints and books in our possession. A win-win if I ever saw one.”

“Kate mentioned something last night,” (Y/N) tried her best to look up at Benedict, but his tight embrace made it difficult. “Something about a bet you and Anthony had regarding children?”

“Oh,” his cheeks flushed, “that.”

“So it is true?”

“In the sense we made such a bet? Yes,” Benedict nodded. “But we made that bet years ago—back when the only idea of us having children regarded heirs for the title, never fathoming we’d do it out of love.”

“What did you wager?”

Benedict smiled, finally pulling away from his wife to look at her directly. “Five pounds.”

“That is all?” She nearly shrieked with laughter. “With such a serious bet I truly would have thought you would have put more on the wager.”

“I suppose I am still expected to pay up one day,” Benedict said thoughtfully. “Perhaps I shall gift it to him on Edmund’s eighteenth birthday?”

She smiled at the thought. “I think that would make an excellent present.”

“Because even if we are to have any children,” Benedict continued, “and that is still very much up in the air, surely Anthony and Kate will be constantly going at it to rival my dear Mama for the title of most Bridgerton babes.”

“Giving him a win regardless,” (Y/N) said. “I believe you’re right.”

“I’m sorry if I ever made you feel this way about children,” Benedict said, “I never want you to feel as if your voice does not matter. We are equals in this marriage—partners—in every sense of the word.”

“I may one day change my mind,” (Y/N) amended, choosing her words carefully. “But as of right now, I think we’re perfectly suited the way we are.”

“Well suited, indeed,” he agreed, pressing another kiss to her cheek. “But, I do think this morning calls for a bath—as much as I adore your natural musk, my love, I already had the staff begin to warm water up for you.”

She took a moment to sniff herself. She smelled of sick, smoke and booze. How Benedict was not repulsed was beyond her. “Oh. I suppose a bath is… ideal.”

He rose from the plush bed, outstretching his hand for his wife to take.

“A bath for two, I should mention,” he grinned wickedly. A grin she had loved from the minute she met him. A grin that made her feel wanted and safe, all in the same breath.

She took his hand.

[daisynik7]

cw: alcohol, reader is drunk, Nanami is a doting husband, kissing, suggestive dialogue, pet names (sweetie, sweetheart, baby, honey, good girl), use of daddy once

Author’s Note: Whoops, I’m afraid my Nanami brainrot is not over! Anyways, I got wine drunk yesterday and I was just imagining about how cute it would be for drunk!reader to come home to husband!Nanami. Enjoy! Banner by @/saradika.

You’ve got your arm draped across your best friend’s shoulders as she helps you stumble up the driveway to your house and towards the front door. She knocks with her free hand, waiting only several seconds before your husband answers, an amused grin on his face. “Thanks for bringing her home in one piece.”

She laughs, handing you off to him. “We almost found the bottom of the bottomless mimosas,” she jokes, waving farewell to the both of you, heading back to the car with the designated driver. Nanami watches them leave while you hang onto his shoulders for dear life. 

He shuts the door behind him, carefully leading you into your home, bending down to remove your heels. You’re a wobbling mess, head hazy and body buzzing with intoxication from today’s brunch. One of infinite things you love about Nanami is how patient he is with you, even when you’re a useless lump, too uncoordinated to do the simplest things like this. 

Now barefoot, you lean against him, using his entire body as support. He remains silent, a calm expression on his face, practically dragging you to the couch where he plops you down, kneeling before you to press the back of his hand to your cheek. He gives you a delicate smooch on the forehead before he stands up to walk to the kitchen. You hear the rushing sound of water from the faucet filling up a container and within seconds, he’s back, sitting beside you, handing you a full glass. “Drink this, sweetie.” You take it, tipping it into your mouth slowly until it’s half full and you’re properly quenched. He studies you in silence, scooching nearer with his hand resting on top of yours. “Are you alright?”

“I’m great,” you giggle, leaning towards him, lips grazing his with a crooked, goofy smile.

He laughs. “It looks like you had a lot of fun with your friends.” He sniffs, adding, “Your breath is very fruity.”

“Is it gross?” You frown at him, feigning embarrassment.

He shakes his head. “Not at all, honey. In fact, it’s very sweet.”  

“You’re very sweet,” you respond, kissing him sloppily. Your hands grip to his t-shirt, tugging at the fabric to bring him closer to you.

Chuckling into your mouth, he pulls away, licking his lips. “Honey, you’re drunk.”

“No I’m not!” you exclaim. “I want you, baby! Don’t you want me?” 

“Of course I want you. I always want you. But not like this. Let’s sober up first.”

“But I want it now!” you whine, being absolutely unbearable.

The smile on his face remains, ever so patient even when you’re being an annoying little shit. He nuzzles his nose to yours, cupping your cheek in his palm. “We’ll do it later, okay?” His voice lowers, mouth hot on your ear now. “Please, sweetheart? Can you be a good girl and listen to daddy?”

You groan, squeezing your legs together, grabbing him firmer. “Don’t tease me like that!”

He laughs again, placing another loving kiss on your forehead. “How about I make us some sandwiches and we watch a movie? Then, I’ll give you exactly what you want.” 

You release him, sighing, still pretending to be disappointed when in fact, you’re more than satisfied. Thrilled beyond belief that you’re married to this incredible specimen of a man. “Fine. I guess that’s alright.”

[katsu2ji]

izuku is extremely observant, especially of the people he loves, so it's no surprise that he's immediately jumping to action when he sees signs of you not doing well. whether it's a physical or mental illness/disability, izuku wastes no time in making sure you're comfortable enough to get through it. when you first told him about it, he made sure to research and ask as many questions as he could (without making you uncomfortable, of course) to make sure he was ready to take care of you. he'll ask you what you need him to do, and half the time you don't even need to tell him, because he's already got it covered.

he absolutely hates seeing you in any kind of pain, but if him being there and providing as much help as possible helps make it a little easier for you, then he's happy to do it a thousand times over.

katsu2ji © 2024. please don't copy, modify, or do anything of the sort with my work! i work very hard and you simply do not have my permission.

[zorosdimples]

WHEREVER YOU ARE

pairing ༄ zoro x gn!reader

warnings ༄ brief descriptions of violence. a little angsty at first but it’s fluff i pinky promise!

word count ༄ 796

notes ༄ i’ve been feeling so deeply about zoro lately—i cried over him a few nights ago. this is embarrassingly soggy; i poured my heart out for him. tagging my dearest ai @gojoest <3

home.

a soft breeze carries the word, a gentle whisper that ruffles zoro’s hair and curls over the shell of his ear, fading once the message rests uncomfortably on his tongue. the sea shimmers under the moon’s loving gaze, the lulling lap of waves the only sound that reaches the starlit deck. he should be chilly in the crisp salt air, but as he glances down at you—wrapped in his protective embrace, head resting against his bare chest and the steady beat of his heart—he realizes that he has never felt warmer.

home is a word that has never meant much to the swordsman.

from an orphanage to the dojo to the furthest reaches of the east blue, zoro was born a wanderer, cursed to roam land and sea with little more than three swords and a fierce dream. hunting humans and exchanging souls for bounties that could barely cover a warm meal, a glass of sake, and a dirty bed—it was a monastic existence, devoid of comfort and pleasure. but that’s the price you pay when you make a deal with the devil. greatness isn’t bestowed upon the righteous; greatness is something you must fight for with steel claws and blood in your maw. may the most vicious creature win.

home is make-believe for a demon. it’s a tale told to frightened children who don’t yet understand the cruelty of the world.

joining luffy did not cure zoro’s restlessness. it did not make him a better man—it only redirected his cruelty. the piles of flesh and bone he left in his wake loomed over him still; he trudged through a sticky stream of ichor in his nightmares. destruction in the name of something is destruction all the same. he could feel the shackles of solitude slipping, but he was (and still is) set in his ways. it’s difficult to unlearn that which you believe yourself to be. a lifetime of isolation bred a bone-deep loneliness that he couldn’t bleed out of his chest or escape when he cracked open his rib cage and welcomed eternal darkness.

home is a luxury a man—a monster—like him does not deserve.

you draw zoro from his thoughts as you shift in his lap to face him, wrapping your legs around his waist, smoothing your palms across the strong planes of his stomach. your delicate caresses dance upwards, an act of reverence as you trace over the story of his life.

puckered scars, rippling striae, dappled moles, smattered freckles; these etchings on his tanned flesh tell of his victories and mistakes and birthrights. when you reach his broad shoulders, one hand darts up to rake through his mint green strands, fingernails grazing his scalp in a way that has him chasing your touch. your other hand tinkles his earrings, the golden chimes playing their hymn as they reflect the glimmering moonlight.

zoro’s lone eye is enraptured with your movements, and when your sweet gaze meets his, you press a featherlight kiss to his unsuspecting lips. “what was that for?” he asks with a rumbling chuckle. his hands—rough, capable of atrocities—unconsciously rub up and down your sides with worshipful tenderness.

“i love you,” you confess airily with a smile, as though those aren’t the most devastating words the swordsman has ever heard.

if zoro wasn’t a selfish man he would weep at your words. he would tell you to find someone better, he would show you the mortal weight of his sins, and he would keep his distance from a soul as radiant and kind as yours. but decades of want have conditioned him to be greedy.

hearing that phrase—though zoro has heard it from your lips hundreds of times—has a grin rivaling the brightness of the moon split his sharp features. cradling his face, you stroke his dimples with your thumbs. his hands settle on your waist and tug you toward him, your bodies pressed together like hands in a prayer. he crooks his head so your mouths are a mere breath apart.

“i love you, too,” he murmurs before claiming your parted lips with his own.

zoro still has little more than three swords and a fierce dream. but he also has three warm meals a day, more glasses of sake than he could ever want, and a clean bed to crawl into at night. he’s no longer an orphan; with the straw hats there is friendship and laughter and adventure. if asked, he will insist that he’s not a good man, that he’s a demon. but he’s fiercely loyal to his family—he will cut down anyone that stands in their way to freedom.

and then there’s you. with you, zoro has a love he has never felt before. as far as he’s concerned?

wherever you are is home.

[soullessseraphim]

For our souls