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#but with the dawn a new day is born
wellpresseddaisy · 1 year
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But with the Dawn, a New Day is Born pt 1
I have 0 self control when it comes to a new AU. The title comes from the 1931 song Goodnight Sweetheart. I recommend the Bing Crosby version (and also his version of P.S. I love you from a similar vintage).
I probably wouldn't have written this without some enabling from @sneverussape so thank you, friend. Now we all get Harry being Very Confused by a Tom Riddle who mostly isn't a homicidal dick and a Ron who is going to do his level best to make Dumbledore regret taking up teaching. Hermione is going to enjoy the hell out of the library and not having to only research things to save people's lives.
Harry startled as Ron and Hermione melted out of the trees to stand on either side of him. They weren’t shades of themselves, they were solid…and he’d dropped the stone already, anyway. They were real and breathing and they were with him.
“What are you doing?” His voice shook.
“Dumbledore may be convinced that you’re the one he needs to kill, but we aren’t letting you do it alone.” Ron set his jaw in a way Harry knew. Argument was pointless.
“We’ve done everything together.” Hermione continued, her own voice shaking. “And we aren’t…well, three is a magical number too, isn’t it?”
“But you have families.” Harry insisted. Hermione, in his other side, mumbled something he only caught snatches of.
Steadfast in this fateful hour
I place my magic with all its power,
And the sun with its brightness,
And the snow with its whiteness,
And fire with all the strength it hath,
“Think my mum knows.” Ron tried to smile, but it twisted. “She sent her love, you know, for all of us. Said she’d make them understand.”
“Your mum?” Harry couldn’t finish.
And lightning with its rapid wrath,
And the winds with their swiftness along their path,
And Black Lake with its deepness,
“Yeah. She doesn’t want to…after her brothers…I reckon she knows us all pretty well at this point. Anyway, she loves us.”
And the hills with their steepness,
And the moors with their starkness:
      All these I place,
      With my friends help and grace
Between this world and the bringer of darkness.
They’d reached the clearing.
-----------------
After…after Voldemort accepted their triple sacrifice, after the green glow enveloped them, they tumbled together on the floor of Kings Cross, only it was much neater than Harry ever remembered it. So terribly white, really, from the lights to the tiles.
“I didn’t think there’d be an after.” Ron croaked.
“Neither did I.” Hermione’s voice quavered. “I hoped…”
Harry coughed, spat up something foul, and rolled to his feet. “What was that you were saying, Hermione?”
His voice sounded as raspy as his throat felt. Whatever he’d hacked up and spat on the floor pulsed there, thick and black and wet. Instinctively, he herded the other two away from it.
“A version of St. Patrick’s Rune.” Hermione admitted, flushing a bit. “I found it in the library at Grimmauld, tucked away in something ancient. Someone marked it as ‘for absolute life or death emergencies’ so I memorized it. I didn’t know if it would work for me. I’m not sure if it was meant to do…this.” She gestured at their surroundings.
He couldn’t say anything. There weren’t words enough in the world to say anything to Hermione and Ron, who loved him enough to walk with him into death. He launched himself at Ron with all the coordination of a drunk Niffler. Ron caught him, pulled him close, and Hermione crowded in from his other side. They stood for a moment, just breathing, just holding on.
“Thank you. Thank you thank you thank you.” Harry tried to tamp down on the ridiculous urge to cry as he mumbled into Ron’s chest .
(Even in the after…after he couldn’t be as tall as he wanted, which was a crock in Harry’s opinion.)
“As if we would do anything else.” Hermione huffed. “We’ve walked with you every step of the way and we aren’t abandoning you now.”
‘You’d probably muck up your…after by feeling guilty without us.” Ron pointed out, patting his back. “D’you think we’re waiting for a train?”
“The three of you,” a voice that reminded him of an annoyed Dumbledore came from behind them. “Are not supposed to be anywhere together.”
They turned as one, Ron trying to shove Harry and Hermione behind him. Harry decided that actually, Ron could take this one.
“I am meant to be meeting Mr. Potter to discuss his options.” It was Dumbledore, if you’d known him in the 1930s. Harry remembered the pictures.
“Huh, no wonder old Grindy went for him.” Ron mused.
Harry tried to muffle the semi-hysterical giggles that threatened.
Hermione thumped her head against his back. “Do not tell him what you think of his plans. Do not tell him what you think of his plans.” She whispered.
“But, as we seem to have had a change of plans, Mr. Potter’s options are no longer what they once were. You will no doubt be happy to know that Mr. Longbottom ended Nagini right before the three of you created a magical backlash that took out the Death Eater encampment and the Acromantula colony.” He spoke as sternly as Dumbledore ever did.
“Good on Nev.” Ron cheered. “You said something about options?”
Death, Ron discovered, took away pretty much all the terror of Dumbledore being upset with him. What was he going to do, dock points? Could people in the waiting room, if that’s what this was, have high blood pressure? Had anyone ever tried?
“I am no longer allowed to discuss options. That has been decided by…others. While I am not pleased with this disruption in a delicate plan, I am proud of your loyalty to one another and to the world you lived in.”
“Well we weren’t daft enough to let Harry walk off to his death. Figured we had the best chance of joining him and it wouldn’t be the same if we weren’t together.” Ron shrugged. “So, we just hopped on that next big adventure.”
Dumbledore opened his mouth, shut it with a snap, and then turned on his heel and stalked off, muttering something under his breath about the sanctity of life after death being lost on Weasleys.
“I hope he has to spend all his time with Great Grand Aunt Wilhelmina and Great Grand Uncle Bilius. They were in his class at Hogwarts and it would serve him right.” Ron muttered, making both Harry and Hermione snicker.
“I suppose now we wait?” Harry asked. “I wonder if a train will come.”
No train came and no one was quite sure how long they waited after Dumbledore stomped off in a huff. Pocket watches didn’t work, wherever they were. It was sort of pleasant, though, not having anywhere to be. Hermione still had her beaded bag, and after a little while she produced a non-magical deck of cards.
“Anyone for rummy?”
They played fourteen hands of rummy and three of hearts before they were interrupted again, which was just as well because Hermione and Ron were bickering over Hermione counting cards. Harry worked on ‘improving’ his own hand from the deck while they were occupied. They never noticed, not when they really got going.
“Beg pardon?”
They whipped around, staring at the young woman just stepping out of a doorway that didn’t used to exist.
“Are you here to take us with you?” Harry asked unsteadily.
“That…it isn’t an option yet. What you three did…well, you upset any number of those much higher up than me.” The woman chuckled. “In any case, they’ve decided to send you…sideways a bit. Finish your unfinished business.”
“What does that mean?” Hermione asked.
“You’re going to be sent…elsewhere. It’ll be 1941, and…it gets a bit complicated here, I’m afraid.” She sighed. “There’s only so much we can do when we get an, er…special delivery like you three. How to explain this? Well, you’ll keep your current memories because there are limits and we aren’t interested in playing dolls with people. You’ll have an…overlay, I suppose, of your 1941-current memories. I’m afraid before Hogwarts won’t be much fun, but we have to explain the twitchiness since we aren’t in the business of wiping people’s personalities away. You’re going back as firsties. That was a non-negotiable. As I said, you made quite a few people upset.”
“Will we be ourselves?” Hermione seemed to be absorbing everything they were told.
“You and Mr. Potter will be Harry and Hermione Perhalion. Mr. Weasley will be Galahad Weasley.”
“Why don’t I get to keep my name?” Ron looked disgusted at the thought of being Galahad.
“Because we can only change the essential nature of a Weasley so much, we aren’t making any of you have new faces, and the Weasley family isn’t slated to have a Ronald for a few generations yet.” The woman answered sternly. “We do try not to meddle too much, unlike certain teenagers.”
“You said we had unfinished business?” Harry picked up where Hermione left off.
“None of you finished school or did any of the things you might have done. And you, Mr. Potter, are actually going to feel the feelings you bottled up on your last go-round.” She poked him in the chest. “No more hiding behind anger. No stuffing everything into the feelings barn.”
“I…what?” Harry stared.
“Do any of you read the…bugger but that one’s in the future. Never mind that. It was from the New Yorker.”
“Oh, my parents like the long-form journalism.” Hermione said brightly.
“Yes,” the woman replied slowly. “They would.”
“Is my unfinished business now a quest to change my name?” Ron asked acidly, clearly trying to change the subject.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” The woman snapped.
“My name is now Galahad. I can’t help it.”
The woman raised her hand and snapped and all Harry knew was darkness.
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bluesidez · 20 days
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[The Ideal Gaze]
lab tester: @ichigosluvrr 🩻
pairing: DadBod!Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader
summary: Miguel is feeling a bit out of your league, so you remind him that he’s just in your lane. 
content warning: established relationship (they’re married with kids!), domestic fluff, mild hurt/comfort due to Miguel being an idiot that does not understand The Female Gaze, some miscommunication between reader and Miguel, 18+ so MDNI, a little raunchier than I intended tbh but hopefully I presented DB!Mig well, body worship, heated tension, reader is like obsessed with Miguel’s new Dad Bod, deepthroat 😗, missionary position, unprotected p in v sex (WRAP IT UP 🫵🏾), the word Ma as a term of endearment from Miguel to reader two times
word count: 5.3k, halfway proofread
a/n: Fulfilling this first because this was technically my first request! I added a few more elements (thank you Miguel server!), so I hope you don’t mind. There were no specific requests other than fluff and smut, so I went with the flow. I hope you enjoy! (Also, I found the original artist's post here!! Go give them some love!)
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Your blood is pumping as you round the corner, only a few more steps until you reach the driveway. 
The jog today was pretty refreshing. There were no calls from work asking about things that could wait until 8 AM, no toddler fussing about waking up, and no child whining about getting homework done. It was just you, your FitBit, your steamy audiobook, and the lingering thoughts of meeting your husband’s eyes this morning. Lately, it’s been like a little game to rile him up. 
You’ve been married for a few years and a family of four for seven years with a sweet little girl, a second grader with the attitude of an old lady, and a precious little boy, a preschooler with keen intuition. With your lives being consumed with work and taking care of the kids, you feel like your relationship has been put on the back burner. Long gone were the days in which you two made love at the drop of a hat, fucking on anything that could hold you. Now, you were lucky enough to get a little dry humping.
It was getting depressing, and more annoyingly, frustrating, so you started to put your riled-up energy elsewhere. You were up at the crack of dawn making everyone’s lunches and going on occasional jogs, you were using your PTO for brunches with the girls and spa days, you had regular pilates classes, the real pilates, and most importantly, you were finding small pockets of time for yourself. 
From buying yourself small gifts to filling your Kindle with romance books to pleasuring yourself on the nights Miguel worked overtime. You were sure to keep yourself busy. All of that, and you still couldn’t get the thought of Miguel entangled with you out of your head. 
You heaved out as you stopped at the end of the driveway, taking a few breaths to calm your state. The book you were listening to was on a particularly enthralling scene and you wondered if it was something that Miguel would be interested in trying. 
You looked down at yourself and decided to unzip the top of your athletic jacket, letting the tightness of your bra and the fabric push your cleavage up. One smooth swipe of your clothes and you were walking to the front door. 
It was 6:40 AM, so there was plenty of time to have a little quiet moment with your husband. 
You walked into the kitchen and saw him standing in all of his glory. A newspaper in his left hand, because some things didn’t need to be digitized, a “Best Papá Ever” mug in his right hand, black glasses on his face, and your favorite thing, a naked plush torso on display. 
In the first years of parenthood, his metabolism was through the roof. Despite him joining you for every snack, meal, and midnight dessert, he never lost that tiny little waist or those washboard abs. It wasn’t until your youngest was born and babbling that his appearance started to change. His arms became a mix of muscle and cellulite, his thighs were softer than ever, his chest was full and plump, and his waist widened gifting you with his soft belly and a happy trail that continued to his belly button. 
The early time didn’t stop the coil of neediness in your stomach from forming. 
“Good morning, hubby,” you say with a lilt to your voice. You walked closer to him, an extra bounce in your step, and leaned on the island. 
Sure enough, Miguel was peeking at your chest from over his glasses, mug hovering over his lips. 
You only smiled coyly, waiting for his response. 
“Good morning. How was your jog?” he puts the newspaper and mug down, folding his arms under his chest. 
You stared at his bulging arms, pressed-up pecs, and his tummy that moved with him and almost whined. 
“It was really good. Super nice and refreshing. Maybe a little warm,” you crossed your legs, impatient. “How’s your morning so far?”
“It’s better,” he says, making the short distance to crowd your space. He leans over you, hands going to the island. “My wife is here now.”
You smile at his words, hands itching to touch him but not wanting to ruin the stride. Instead, you look up at him and pan his lips. 
“I’m feeling better, too,” you whisper, waiting. 
Miguel leans forward to press his lips onto yours, the smell of coffee hitting your senses. You feel little fireworks go off as he starts to open your mouth. Everything felt just right in this moment. 
When his hand slid across your back, you almost jumped up to wrap your legs around him. You tilted your head and wrapped your arms around his neck. You could feel yourself slipping against the counter, but Miguel was right there to steady you. 
For what felt like hours to you after so long of a heated connection, the two of you made out on the kitchen island. Only some birds chirping, the occasional car passing by, and the hum of the washing machine could be heard next to the sound of you both breathing into each other’s lips
“Come with me to the shower?” you say, eyes heavy and pleading. 
You could feel Miguel tense up, back rigid as he moved back. 
“I better stay. Raul might wake up soon and he was having a hard time sleeping last night.”
Your heart dropped at the rejection. You were hoping that this would be the one, the moment that you’ve been anticipating for months. Some form of sexual connection. 
“Ok. I’ll be out soon,” you turn and go to the master bathroom, tugging the zipper down hastily. You felt a bit dejected and embarrassed, but you’re trying to let it go. Your mommy side knows that your youngest woke up in distress last night so it makes perfect sense that Miguel wants to be alert for his cries, but your wife side wants her husband back and can’t help but feel like he didn’t want you. 
With this brisk shower, you hoped this self-doubt and neediness washed away with it. 
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You tapped your fingers against the desk, staring off at your computer. Work today was slow, which you didn’t mind because that meant you could frequent your watchlist, but your mind kept wandering off while watching some random K-drama. 
Last night, you woke up to what sounded like Miguel getting off in the bathroom. 
He got off work super late that day, so you took the initiative to get the kids to bed and go to bed early. 
What you didn’t expect was to wake up to the sound of his grunts coming through the bathroom door. 
At first, you were a little hurt that he didn’t wake you up to help him out, but then you were so overcome by the sound of him whimpering and moaning that you couldn’t help but pleasure yourself. 
He sounded so desperate and wanton, cursing every once in a while. You bit your lip as you imagined him right next to you, voice right in your ear. You wanted his weight on you. You wanted to feel his skin against yours. 
You lay in the empty bed rubbing yourself until you came, his noises stopping a while before you finished. You were hoping he would come out and see you so you prolong your orgasm to no avail, sleep coming to claim you before he did. 
When you tried to ask him about it in the morning, he kept avoiding your eyes, saying something about his stomach giving him the blues. 
You let it go then, but that didn’t stop you from thinking about it all day. 
In a spur-of-the-moment decision, you decide to text him a flirty message, running to the bathroom to take a picture to match. You waited a little bit, hoping that he could take at least a peek. 
“You look gorgeous, honey.”
Just gorgeous? Not hot? Not good enough to make him want more?
You scrunched your mouth to the side, asking if he could send a picture back.
“Baby, you know I can’t. I’m at work right now.” 
You huffed at that. You knew he was just in his lab by himself. There was plenty of time and solitude to take a picture. He used to send random pictures of himself all of the time. 
For the rest of the day, you were irritated, feeling slighted at the hands of your husband.
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You took a break from trying to seduce your husband, tired of the pushback. You put your all into taking care of the kids and maintaining the house when you could.
“And how many sticks does that leave Cassie with?” you asked Gabriella. You both were at the dining table with her math homework sprawled everywhere while dinner was in the oven. 
“27!” she shouted, voice becoming more confident over the course of the math sheet. 
“Correct! You’re knocking ‘em out, girl!”
“Buen trabajo, mija,” Miguel said with vigor as he came by to kiss the top of her head. “You’re doing so well.” (Good job, mija.)
“Does this mean I can get a cookie?” she asked, quick to melt her father’s heart.
“Not before dinner, Gabriella, you know this,” Miguel bounced Raul in his arms, a little fussy and sniffly. 
“Please, papá!” she looked up at him with big brown eyes and a pout.  
Miguel sighed, unable to say no to her 9 times out of 10. 
He looked at you frantically, watching you snickering behind your hands, “You have to ask Mamá.”
Whenever he really wanted to say no, he used you as a trump card.
Gabriella’s shoulders drop as she turns to you, already knowing the drill.
“The answer is no. You can wait until after dinner,” you say, squeezing her cheek.
“You always say no,” Gabriella whines dramatically, slumping in her seat with her arms crossed, pout just like her dad’s.
“And you can always go to bed with no cookies,” you chide as you get up to go check on dinner. “Now go put your homework up and wash your hands, dinner is almost ready.”
She puts her papers back in her folder with the theatrics of a Broadway actor, sighing dramatically with each step she took to her room.
Miguel laughed at her actions watching her leave, “She’s just like her Mami when she gets like that. Fussy.”
You pause to put your hand on your hip, “No, she’s just like her Father when she can’t get her way. Whiny.” You open the oven and pull the lasagna out to the stove to cool a bit. 
“Well, I can’t say no to her just like I can’t say no to you,” he says, placing Raul at the table with a hand running over his soft hair. “You both have the same puppy-dog eyes.”
“You like leaving the hard parenting to me.”
“That is not true. I just tussled with a four-year-old to get him to take his cold medicine and made a promise of not one, but two bedtime stories,” he says, coming up behind you as you reached to get the dishes. He got them down for you instead, hand on your hips and stomach pressed against your back.
You bite your tongue in order not to will your negligent, horny brain from awakening. You didn’t have time for those thoughts, little feet were near, and every advance you gave him ended in failure. 
“Is he doing ok?” you say, referring to Raul he sat at the table with his head down, a teddy bear hugged against him as he pitifully moved his toy car back and forth. It was definitely a big shift from his usual talkative demeanor.
“We might have to go to the doctor again. His allergies are really acting up.”
You leave Miguel’s side to go squat down by Raul, “How are you feeling, sweetheart?”
You rubbed his back, trying to see if he felt warmer than usual and sure enough, he was burning up.
“My throat hurts, Mama,” he said, little voice just about gone. 
“Oh, I know, my sweet baby,” you say with a soft voice. “Do you want me to make you some alphabet soup?”
Raul’s face twists up, lip a little wobbly, “But I want some cheese noodles.”
“Hey, it’s ok!. You can have some lasagna. I just want your throat to feel better. Hot things will make it feel better.”
“The cheese noodles are hot, too.”
You smiled, “That’s right, the cheese noodles are hot, but I mean a hot liquid.”
He stayed quiet for a moment, hands squeezing his teddy bear as he thought, “Can I have hot chocolate?”
“Of course you can. Can I give you a kiss?”
He nods his head slowly and you lean over to kiss his head. You needed to get him under the covers soon. Before you could pull away, he wrapped his arms around your neck, snuggling up to be held. You couldn’t resist holding your baby, especially when you couldn’t take his pain away. 
You get up to see Miguel helping Gabriella plate the slices of lasagna on each plate and setting up the side salad. Your heart filled with joy watching them giggle over the stretchy cheese. It was moments like this that reminded you that you were taking the right steps, that this was the perfect little life.  
As they set up the table with the plates and drinks, you kept Raul in your arms, ready to help him with tonight's dinner. 
“Thank you for the food, Mommy,” Gabriella said with a toothy smile. 
“You’re welcome, baby,” you say, cutting Raul’s food up even smaller, not wanting him to struggle any more than he had to tonight. 
The table was quiet, save for Gabriella and Miguel smacking their food occasionally and Raul’s wheezy breaths. 
By the time dinner was over, Gabriella was buzzing in her seat for cookies, and Raul was close to falling asleep in your arms. 
You couldn’t ask for anything better. 
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With Raul sound asleep, Gabriella tucked in bed, and Miguel watching cable, you had a moment to yourself to think. 
Did today’s small touches mean anything?
You stood in the bathroom moisturizing your skin after a hot bath. You said you were going to stop trying to fish for your husband’s attention, but if you were honest, today’s brief moment of connection did it for you. You couldn’t stop your thoughts once you were alone.
You decide to wear just a pair of panties and one of his old t-shirts to bed: a look that wasn’t trying too hard to get his attention, but you’re sure he’s going to notice it. 
You sat on the bed and decided to read until he came into the room. You hope you were giving a sexy girlfriend vibe. Your skin was all smooth, you smelled good, and you knew you looked good. 
When Miguel walks in, he pauses at the door to stare at you. 
“Why are you looking at me like that? Come to bed,” you say. 
Hook, line, and sinker. 
Miguel shuffled over, eyeing you from head to toe. He looked delicious in his tank top, fabric stretched in the best possible ways.
He crawled on the bed next to you, “My band t-shirt?”
“Yeah! It’s comfy.”
He rubbed his hand up your naked thigh and your nerves started to sing. Any further up, and you might just wet your panties from his touch alone. You missed it so much. 
He leaned over to kiss the juncture your neck and shoulder, your neck, your cheek, and then he stopped. 
He just…stopped.
“Well, I gotta go in earlier tomorrow, so I’m going to sleep early. Is it ok if I turn this light off?
You felt your throat dry up, “Yeah, ok.”
He got under the sheets and switched his lamp off, leaving you in the dark with the faint light of your Kindle illuminating the room.
“Goodnight, honey,” he said with a yawn. 
“Night.”
You turned your Kindle off and just sat in silence, his snores breaking the illusion of the dark consuming you. 
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You’re starting to think the worst. 
You kept up a number of tactics subtle to glaringly obvious to appeal to your husband from changing up your perfume to what you would say was an amazing strip tease. Absolutely nothing is working. 
He kept listing off excuses from the kids to his job to his parents to his brother, anything to avoid an intimate session with you. He even chose a night out with his boys over a night in bed with you which was jarring because he always made you feel good before going out to have a good time. 
Did he not find you attractive anymore? You knew childbirth brought a lot of change, but you were still the same woman he met and fell in love with. 
Did he not love you anymore? He often praised you for being a good mom and his pet names never stopped, but after that, his declaration of love for you had been very surface-level.
Is he cheating on you?
You really didn’t want to entertain that thought, but your heart couldn’t take any more pain than it already had. 
So, one day when you say you’re taking the kids to the park, you drop them off at your mom’s place instead, hoping that if there was something going on, no little hearts would be broken once you unleash a beast in the house. 
You pull back in the driveway to see that he’s still here, just as you suspected. You make your way quietly through the house, inching closer to you all’s bedroom. 
Your heart almost stops when you hear the sound of Miguel’s voice, high and breathy in a way that should only reach your ears. You don’t think when you swing the door open, adrenaline pumping high.  
Miguel yells, scared to death but alone. 
“What are you doing?” you ask, voice frustrated.
“What am I doing? What are you doing?”
You look at the state he’s in, shirt up, waistband under his dick, and a mystery fabric in his hand. 
“Were you getting off?” you say, hands dropping to your side. “Do you…do you not love me anymore?”
“What?”
“Do you. Not. Love me anymore. You avoid me every time I’ve tried to initiate something with you. We haven’t made love in so long. You keep making excuses to not be alone with me. You don’t even want to do normal things with me like send pictures or makeout until we’re out of breath. I’ve heard you in the bathroom during the night and now you’re here doing the same thing, without me, your wife.” Your eyes start to water after it all, feeling utter defeat. 
“Cariño, this is a misunderstanding,” he pleads, voice distraught. “I do love you. I’ve never stopped loving you.”
“Then why are you doing this to me?”
“Because,” he pauses, fixing his clothes to have some decency. “I…haven’t felt the greatest about my body.”
Your tears dry up as soon as the statement resonates, “What? What do you mean?”
Miguel sighs.
“Lately, it’s getting harder and harder for my old clothes to fit me anymore, I’m way too busy to hit the gym and more than anything, I think you deserve a man who’s a little less,” he gestures to himself, “let go.”
“Says who?”
He looks at you as if you’ve grown two heads, “Uh, everybody?”
“Well, who is everybody because I’d like to strangle them for letting you think that my husband isn’t good enough for me.” You walk deeper into the bedroom crowding Miguel’s space. “You’ll always be perfect for me. The vows I promised to you will not be broken over something so normal as weight gain.”
He looked like he could cry. 
“Why did you hide you were feeling this way, baby?” you hold his head in your hands scratching at his scalp. 
“It felt stupid and silly. You’ve been doing so well socially and physically, I wanted to see if I could fix it on my own before bringing you down with my problems.”
“Miguel O’Hara,” you say, gripping his jaw firmly. “I’m your wife. I might not be able to solve everything, but at the very least, you need to talk to me. Tell me how you’re feeling, express yourself with words. Don’t hide.”
He wrapped his arms around you, sniffling, “I know. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
You pressed a long kiss into his scalp, rubbing his back. 
“Oh my gosh,” you chuckled. “You were feeling so much internally, meanwhile I was practically screaming at you to fuck me. I thought you weren’t attracted to me anymore.” 
So much for communication. 
Miguel just burried his face in your chest while he groaned, “That’s the thing! You were driving me crazy with your tight little workout clothes and your lingerie. You looked so good, but I couldn’t get out of my own head. I’ve been…”
“You’ve been what?”
“I,” he got red in the face. “I’ve been using your underwear.”
You look down to Miguel’s crumbled up hand and it was in fact your underwear from the night you wore his band t-shirt, drenched in his essence.
Your stomach turned with excitement.
“So this is what you were doing in the bathroom in the middle of the night, hm? Using my panties? Giving them more action and attention than me?”
Miguel nodded, eyes hazy.
“Did it feel good?”
Another nod.
“I bet it did. I would wake up and hear you trying so hard to cum.”
You don’t know how, but his face got even warmer.
“You left your poor wife all alone, thinking about you on top of her until she came too.”
“I did?”
“You didn’t know?” you ask, playfully. “I was up all night imagining you walking out to see me. I wanted these arms to come and hold me.”
You squeeze at his arms on your sides. 
“I wanted your weight on me. I wanted your chest against mine.I needed you so bad.”
You move to sit in his lap, knees on the side of him.
“You do such a great job of being a father. This beautiful change in your body is only proof of your hard work and dedication. It’s proof of love for your family.”
Miguel only melted in your hands, face a cloud of emotion.
“I love you, Miguel. I adore you. I yearn for you. I want you.”
With every declaration, came a kiss to his lips.
“Can I show you how much I love you?”
“Please.”
With that, you took his shirt off and made your way down his chest. You lingered around his chest, holding his pecs as you kissed them all over. You couldn’t stop your moans as your tongue felt across the hairy planes of his chest, sucking and pulling on his nipples. Miguel shudders as you pay special attention to them, sensitive after not being with you for so long.
“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this,” you breathe into his skin. You slide onto the floor and just press your face into his stomach.
“You like it that much?”
“Love it. You look so yummy walking around. You could be just standing there and I get so,” you cut yourself off, trying not to overwhelm him with just how much you were feeling. “You’re hot, baby.”
You kiss down his happy trail to reach his pants, his stomach twitching. You tugged a bit too hard on his pants, causing him to laugh. 
“What’s so funny?” you say with a pout. 
“I haven’t seen you like this since we won that couple’s retreat.”
“Not my fault. You were all sexy up there, beating the other husbands with your big brain. It was doing something to me.”
You finished pulling and you could almost cry with joy when Miguel’s cock springs next to your head. The sound you make when you see it also has Miguel wound tight. 
Completely taken over by your neediness and desperation, you pull one of his thick legs over your shoulder, kissing and sucking on the skin while your fingertips dance around the entirety of his length. 
The display of strength shocks Miguel who drips and whines at your actions. 
“I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby. Do you want that?”
“Yes,” he whispers. 
You cup him while you take his head in your mouth. It felt like pure bliss to have that familiar taste in your mouth. With the way you were humming, Miguel can tell that you were about to put him to sleep. 
You took no time letting your tongue stretch to take more of him in. Your cheeks hollow as you go further, one hand kneading at the thigh you were holding and the other switching from fondling him to wrapping around the base of his length. 
“God,” Miguel’s voice filled the room, the loudest it had been for the past few months. “I don’t think I’ll last that long.”
You let go of him and lick down the sides, “That’s because you’re too busy fucking other things instead of me.”
“’M sorry,” he whined as you went back down on him. “I-I was still thinking of you and, ngh, wanting you.”
“Mm hm,” your voice sent shocks down his spine as you didn’t let go. He moved his hips steadily, dick sliding in and out of your mouth and pudge occasionally pressing against your face. 
The faster he went, the noisier the sounds got. He moved his hands to your head, thighs eerily close to tightening around your face. You couldn’t have it any better. 
You dug your nails into his hips, throat contracting in order to take him in. Even with your jaw slacked, it’s been so long since you took him like this that you gagged more often than not. With every sound of your throat struggling, Miguel shouted your name, hands gripping tighter on your hair.
You could tell he was close by the way his thigh was tensing on your shoulder, so when he said the four words, you took him to the hilt, face completely pressed against him. 
“Shit!” he felt like passing out as he released into your throat. You swallowed as much as you could, but you couldn’t take it all, saliva and cum esxaping down your chin to his balls. 
He grunts when he pulls you off, chest moving sporadically. 
You lick your lips and let out a satisfied sigh, “Finally.”
Miguel could only chuckle as he laid back on the bed. You crawled on top of him, sitting on his thighs with a smile. You rub your hands on the skin of stomach, slowly getting to his chest, “I’m like, really wet right now if you want some more painties to use.”
He growled as he pulled you closer.
“You’re never going to let that go, are you?”
“Nope,” you say, popping the P. “I really want you to do it in front of me. Maybe send me a video for the nights you work overtime.”
He had the nerve to look embarrassed as he wrapped his arms around your back, “I might be able to arrange that.” He kissed your lips to distract you from speaking on it further.
After Miguel returned the favor with his head between your legs, the both of you were enjoying a quiet moment together before having to go pick up the kids.
“I can’t believe you thought I was cheating on you,” Miguel said as you were drawing circles on his chest.
“Miguel,” you say, lifting your head. “I pulled all the stops. I did things that I knew you loved: the t-shirts, going commando, the flirty pictures. I even brought whipped cream to the bedroom and you told me ‘I can’t eat that, it’ll blow up my stomach,’ when you were literally in the kitchen taking shots of it the night before.”
“Ok. So I see how you might have gotten to that ludicrous conclusion, but did you not notice how much I’ve been staring at you?”
You clicked your teeth, “Yeah, but what does that mean when you don’t act on it?”
Miguel twisted his lip, “Will you feel better if I told you that your work pictures turned me on too?”
You pinched him resulting in a yelp, “I’ll feel better right now if you give me a shower round.”
He pulled you in his arms as he got out of the bed, “Let’s go before your mom calls.”
You giggle and swing your feet on the way.
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After your afternoon of praising his body, Miguel emerged as his previous confident self. This meant more days with him walking around shirtless, more quickies in the morning, makeouts that ended in pleasure, him smacking your ass, you smacking his ass back, and sex. Lots and lots of sex.
Right now, Raul was down for a nap and Gabriella was enjoying her tablet time. 
You, however, were clawing at Miguel’s back like a cat as he pounded you into the mattress. 
“Fuck!” you shouted, eyelids fluttering as Miguel’s cock dragged across your walls. “It feels so good.”
“Quiet, mi vida,” he whispered. “The kids are in their rooms.”
You were quick to cover your mouth, moans muffled. It really didn’t matter because the creaks of the bed were just as loud as you. One change in position and the headboard denting the walls could be added to it. 
It was all too much. 
First, he woke you up with kisses down your body and a promise to lighten your load around the house. Then, he got the kids up and prepared breakfast with the help of Raul. Later while you were out running errands, he sent you a coupon for a spa that just opened up down the street and warm message. 
Now, he has you losing your mind with his hips slapping against yours, whispering praises in your ear.
“Miguel!”
“Hm? Talk to me.”
“I-I can’t-” your voice keeps getting louder unintentionally. He was so calm while he was reaching so deep inside. Your mind was hazy, wanting nothing more than him to keep going.
“You’re doing so good, Ma. You’re so good to me and the kids. You’re such a beautiful wife. Such a pretty Mama. Just wanna make you feel good.”
You felt yourself clench around him at his words, tears falling across your temples. He kissed your tears tenderly, strokes getting deeper. 
“M-Miguel,” you say with your heart full. “I love you.”
“I love you too, baby. So, so deeply,”
That was all it took for you to suck him in and scream into his shoulder, nails digging into his shoulder blades. His release was soon after, painting your walls with his lips pressed against your ear.
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“Papá! You have to be more careful,” Gabriella fussed with her hands on her hips while Miguel was in the kitchen trying to make the family a snack. “You got hurt at work!”
Miguel paused and reached behind his back, fingers roaming over the healing scratches on his shoulder from his last session with you. 
You covered your teeth with your lips as Miguel turned to look at you with his eyebrows raised. 
“It’s ok, mija. Papá is tough!”
“But you gotta put something on it,” Gabriella said with a huff.
“Thank you for your concern, nena. I’ll get Mamá to take care of it, ok?” he ruffled her hair as he handed her a plate of bunny-shaped apple slices. “Now go sit with your brother and watch some TV.”
Miguel huffed as he walked up to the side of you with his arms crossed.
“What? You should put your shirt on!”
“That’s not what you said when you-”
“Hush and go get the aloe.”
Miguel snickered as he gave your lips a peck, “Yeah, yeah.”
Life was wonderfully sweet.
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With that, my first request is done! As always, like, reblog, and COMMENT. Let me know how you guys feel! 🩵
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theyluvkarolina · 2 months
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𝐋𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐎𝐔𝐁𝐓𝐒
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· . ୨୧⭒๋࣭ ⭑ ` ` The monster's gone…He's on the run… And your daddy's here ` ` ⊹ ‧₊˚
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 ୨୧ being a father of a baby has it’s ups and downs, but stress gets to the best of us.
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ୨୧ max, charles, lando, x fem!reader (separate)
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ୨୧ besides kids and pregnancy… jos verstappen (ALL MY HOMIES HATE JOS!!), a very very very small jules reference, google translated languages
𝐀/𝐍 ୨୧ heyyy… hey.. how ya’ll doing? 🫣🫣 FINALLY DONE! Sorry to be out for so long! not very happy with my lando piece though. I had a idea but I think i failed to execute it well :(. also, this this a very different format then what i’m used to doing now, so I hope you guys enjoy it 🩷
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𝐌𝐀𝐗 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐍
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BEING a father was never a idea that made its way into Max’s mind, in fact, it’s something he’s scared of. From the get go, all he thought about and dedicated his time to was racing, from the break of dawn to the dead of night. If anything, if present day Max met himself in his teenage years, teenage Max would scoff in his face probably. With Jos, Max was on constant eggshells, were pleasing his father was forever his goal. But things change. Things changed since he started Formula One finally gaining some independence, and a noticeable change once he met you.
With you, Max felt loved. He never had to please you as long as he was being himself. He didn’t have to get first. He didn’t have to work his ass off everyday to impress his father. He got to show off his personality and didn’t have to suppress his stubbornness, or his humor. And he loved you for that.
Formula One will always be a priority, but Max’s tiers of importance changed 6 months ago, those 6 months ago where a new member of the Verstappen family entered the world. A little girl to be exact. Max never imagined himself as a father to a little girl, but after seeing her once she was born and getting to hold her, he wouldn’t change it for the world.
It was quiet. Perfectly quiet. The Monaco sun pushing its way through the blinds of the nursery as Max rocked back and forth in the chair, little girl in his arms, the sound of the waves hitting the rocks down at the shore being faintly heard from your guys’ apartment. It was early in the morning, 7 AM to be exact and as you rested up in bed, Max decided this will be his opportunity to spend some missed time with his little girl.
Looking down at her round face, he examined her features. The curve of her lips, the shape of her eyes, the silhouette of her nose. All of her features were yours besides her nose, inheriting Max’s profile. Everything was perfect to him. Too perfect.
The more Max looked at her stroking her cheek, the more he wondered if he was up for this.
He had no healthy representation of a father figure.
What if he lashed out at her like Jos did?
What if he can’t be the father she deserves?
What if-
“I know that look.” Your voice breaks him out of his trance. Max looked up from where he was sitting, seeing you stand in the doorway. “Care to share, Mr. Champion?” You asked, offering a smile, walking over to him.
“You’re supposed to be resting, Schatje.” He whispers out, getting up before placing the little one in the crib.
“Mom’s don’t get a chance to rest.” You say with a slight laugh before curving your lips into a frown. “What’s wrong Max?” You ask, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.
“It’s just-Godverdomme…” He starts, before turning to you. “Am I a good dad?”.
“Max… you are a amazing dad. I promise you. She loves you so much, you have no idea how much.” You reassure him.
“…I’m scared. I don’t want to turn into my dad.” He whispers out, moving his gaze to the little girl in the crib. “What if I turn into my dad?”
“Max, look at me. Will you?” You say putting a hand on his cheek, making his eyes meet yours. “You aren’t him and you never will be. Knowing that what your father did is the first step in the right direction. She loves you. Everytime she sees you on TV, she lights up like the sun. If you weren’t a good father, she wouldn’t have been so calm in your arms. You aren’t Jos, Max. You are you and I love you. I wouldn’t have married you if I knew otherwise.” You explain, giving him a soft smile as he looks back at you.
Max gives a tight lipped response, glancing back at his daughter, using his hand to smoothen her baby hairs and cracking a smile.
Maybe he is more prepared for his little girl than he thought…even the princess tea parties in the future. And he can’t wait.
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐋𝐄𝐑𝐂
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CHARLES would give up the world if it meant being a father. Growing up with three brothers, it was only natural of him to want kids of his own.
When you showed him the pregnancy test at Austrian GP, and uttered the words of a “I’m pregnant” while in the garage, he officially marked it as the best day of his life, second to marriage of course. His eyes going comically wide before immediately lifting you up, spinning you around as the crowd cheered and the Ferrari staff members offering their congratulations.
As the months passed along with the trimesters, Charles treated you like a piece of fine china. You weren’t even allowed to stand after 2 minutes without Charles fussing like a mother hen.
“Y/N, chérie, please sit down!” Is most likely the most common sentence he’s said in his life for 9 months.
Since the delivery of your son, Charles has been supporting you nonstop, if anything, even more than during the pregnancy. The second Charles saw him, tears gathered in his eyes, and in those dark blue eyes, his little boy was the light of his life. A new beginning. A new motivation. A motivation to push himself even harder. A motivation to try his best in every grand prix, but most of all, a motivation to love you and your son till his last breath.
It was the dead of night, calm and tranquil before cries disrupt the silence of the night. Rubbing your eyes, and checking the clock to read 2:34 AM, letting out a sigh, you lift the sheets off the bed before a hand on your shoulder stops you.
“Go back to sleep amour, I’ll get him. You rest up, okay?” Charles says in a hushed tone, his voice still laced with sleep and his dark brown waves in a tangled mess from the pillow.
"But Charles, the season just finished... if anything you should-" You started before he placed a finger on your lips lightly.
"Sleep. Please. You've done more than enough when I was not here.." He pleaded.
Giving a nod, you slowly make your way back to bed, still awake though.
He cracks open the nursery room, lifting the little boy into his arms.
"Oh mon loulou, qu'est-ce que c'est ? Maman gave you food.. your diaper is changed..." Charles murmurs into to himself bouncing the little one up and down. The Ferrari driver was at a loss, nothing seemed to be wrong, but there was and he didn't know what to do as the crying simply continued.
"How about we take a walk?" Charles talked as if the little one can respond. The Monégasque steadily left the room, holding your son close before stopping in front of a photo taken of you and Charles on your first date. The photo shows you, smilingly a bit awkwardly at the camera, but charming nonetheless, with Charles next to you with a closed lip smile.
"There's maman at our first date. Doesn't she look pretty? Actually.. she is still the most beautiful woman in the world. She was very shy the entire time… “ Charles commented pointing at the photo, a smile gracing his lips. The little boys cries soon turn into whimpers, his little head turned to the image his parents.
“Oh, and here is of me and Maman at our wedding.” The driver commented, thinking fondly as he pointed to the photo next to it the previous. This time, it was of you both kissing underneath the arch of greenery and flowers. “This was before you were born…ou conçu” He muttered the last part..
You smiled at the not so subtle whispers of Charles as he recollects his memories from the past as the baby in his arms finally quiets down, Charles smoothening his tufts of dark hair that have become more apparent as time passed.
“And this… is when you were born…” Charles says with a smile before noticing that the baby fell asleep.
"You’re not exactly quiet y’know…” You say with a teasing tone.
“Y/N, what are you doing up still?” Charles questioned, adjusting the baby in his arms, slightly taken aback by your sudden presence. “…did you… hear everything?” He continued, a rosy tint lightly coating his cheeks in the dim light, as if a little kid caught red-handed.
“Well… the conversion was hard not to listen to.” You say, giving a tired smile. “He looks just like you, y’know that? From the lips, to the shape of his eyes… the curve of his nose…” You continue, taking the little one from his arms, giving a kiss to both him and Charles.
"Does he really?” Charles asked, turning to you with his bright, signature lopsided smile, his dimples showing before looking down at your son, his smirk slowly disappearing.
“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours? You seem worried…” You question, raising a brow with a concerned tone.
"Be honest with me…please?” He pleaded, seemingly embarrassed by the question he’s going to ask. You give a nod, signaling him to continue.
“Do you think he will hate me?” Charles blurted out. “I mean, I rarely spend time at home, leaving you to do all work in the apartment for more than half of the year and with the baby and your work- I just… I don’t want him to think that his father hates him for always travelling.“ You blink before sighing, placing your palm onto his cheek as you hold your son in one arm.
“Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc. Our little boy will never hate you or anything of the such. You are the sweetest, and most loving father any child can ask for. I trust you and I love you.” You comfort him, stroking his stubbly cheek, making his charming grin return.
“…Thank you.”
“There’s that smile I love. Now come on… not only does our little Jules need his sleep, we do too.”
𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐒
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LANDO didn’t think he’d be a father so young. If anything, Lando planned his future superbly. Complete Formula One with at least a world championship underneath his belt, get married, move back to England to be close to family, and eventually start his own family. But sometimes you have to live in the present instead of the future.
Needless to say, your pregnancy was unplanned. With a celebration of a podium win, alcoholic drinks, and the lights of the club, one thing led to another. Telling him was the stressful part but everything turned out better than believed.
The second you told him, his eyes widened before asking a “..Are you serious?”. As soon as you confirmed a bright, boyish smile overtook him, wrapping you in a tight hug and placing kisses all over your face and eventually onto your lower abdomen. During your pregnancy, he wanted the world to know and proudly showed you off. That’s when you knew everything will be perfectly fine with you, him and your new addition to the family.
It would be lying to say that the performance of McLaren during the Japanese GP was great. The strategy was below average, the cars were not at their best performance, but most of all, no podium for Lando or Oscar. Lando was frustrated. Even though it’s so early in his career, Lando feels as if he’s falling behind. And having no wins is rubbing salt in the wound. Having to be known as the racer with such a noticable and bold personality, he wants to prove himself to not only the fans, but journalists that he capable of being a world champion in given time.
“Fuckin’ hell..” Lando muttered, running a hand through his curly hair as he sat down on his driver's room couch. P5. If anything, most drivers will dream of a P5, but Lando wanted more. What could he have done differently?
What if he reacted faster to the lights out?
What if he made that turn quicker?
What if he listened to his impulses?
Will he ever win a race in his life?
Will he always be a disappointment to his girlfriend and daughter?
“I can hear what you’re thinking from a mile away Lando.” You snap him out of his thoughts, turning his head to face you as you hold your daughter. “I came to check on you. You left right after the interviews and we couldn’t find you. This little lady started to get fussy without you.”
“Did she now?” He asked, giving a smile to overshadow his frowning from earlier. trying to steer the topic away from the attention on him.
“Lando, I’m worried about you. You’ve been so… distant lately. Tell me what’s wrong.” You try to persuade him, taking a seat onto the driver’s room coach next to him.
“You don’t need to worry, it’s nothing major. Just-“
“Just you being self-critical and thinking about what you can do different during the race even though you tried your best and have done everything you can given the car that you have?” You say, catching him off guard by how spot on you were.
“…well… that was spot on.” He comments jokingly, giving a rather melancholic look. “How did you know?”
“Lando, I’ve known you since we were 16 and started dating since we were 19. We are now 24 and have a kid together. I sure hope I get this stuff right.” You explained in a teasing tone, but a tender expression begins gracing your face. “Do you want to talk about it?” You question, placing a free hand noto his cheek in a comforting manner.
He gently moves your hand from his cheek, holding onto it instead. “I guess I just want to prove myself and not disappoint you, our little girl, and the team.”
“Lando, we are more than proud of you. Hell, we are above and beyond elevated with how you’ve been doing since you joined F1.” You comfort, adjusting the little one in your arms as she tried to grab your hair.
“…Even with no career wins..?” Lando asks, his gaze meeting yours.
“Look at me Lando. Having no wins is perfectly fine. The fact you even made it this far into your career is amazing in itself. You need to stop doubting yourself and taking away the credit you deserve.” You continue, giving a soft look.
“I don’t want to disappoint her when she gets older.” Lando explained, “Her father in Formula 1, driving for McLaren with no wins for 6 seasons so far. I don’t want her to be embarrassed by her classmates when she gets older because of me-” He sighed before a small hand patted his face harshly.
"BAH!” The little girl squealed, her hand still resting against Lando’s cheek.
Lando groaned, still a bit surprised by the sudden attack. “What is it silly girl? Are you not happy daddy is talking down on himself?” Lando asked, a genuine smile appearing on his face, taking her from your arms and placing her in his lap for her to stand on. She placed her hands on both of his cheeks now, as Lando stroked her curly hair back from her face.
“She’s just saying what we are thinking.” You laugh, resting your head on Lando’s shoulder.
“Saying? I’m not sure much saying is going on.” He replies with a raised brow.
“…You get what I mean.” You roll your eyes and get up from the couch.
“I do.” He answers with a smirk, also getting up while holding his daughter close to him.
“Come on now. Let’s get out of here and celebrate how far you’ve gotten.” You say giving Lando a kiss on the lips and a kiss to the little one’s forehead.
Yeah. Lando wouldn’t change this one bit.
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mononijikayu · 20 days
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“beautiful boy (darling boy)” — gojo satoru.
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“Papa chose the character for you. It means 'dawn'.” He whispered to him tenderly, almost like a little lullaby. “Because you are the beginning of a new chapter for our family. You bring light and hope into our lives, just like the dawn brings a new day."
GENRE: post hidden - inventory arc (2010s)
WARNING/S: domesticity, fluff, angst, trauma, implied death, violence, romance, hurt/comfort, character death depiction of death, depictions of loss and depression, mention of pregnancy, depiction of the aftermath of birth, depiction of parenthood, depiction of blood, depiction of killing, depiction of suffering, depiction of anxiety, mention of death, mention of grief, profanity, family drama;
LISTEN: beautiful boy (darling boy) by john lennon.
NOTE: my classes were cancelled and i just played random music on my phone and this.....sort of sparked something. i sobbed to this, by the way. this might be my last one for now. i've just been frantically making these for the past few days. i'll come back after some rest!!! i love you all so much!!! <3
addendum: the character satoru chose for satoshi is '暁' which means dawn/daybreak; satoshi was born on the same day as his father in 2014.
masterlist
u s and t h e m
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IF HE WAS BEING HONEST, HE DIDN’T KNOW IT WOULD COME TO THIS. He could remember it like it was yesterday, when you held out your hand and took his — placing them together on your belly. Your lilac eyes shone against his bright blue, full of wonder and anxiety. He was frozen at that moment. He was overwhelmed. 
Not even his six-eyes could keep up with his emotions, his thoughts. He knew it was an accident, he knew it wasn’t something both of you planned. But he was happy. He was all too happy that he scooped you in his arms, as though you were the treasure of the world and cradled you, whispering the most loving things, loving words ever known to any being.
It was never your plan to have children, not even with the pressure from the elders of your clans. There was never the time. There was never a sense of security. WIth what Satoru was planning to do, with what dangers there’ll be — just like he had experienced in youth, none of you wanted that for your child. And you wanted to help him, you wanted to do well by him. Satoru was your lifeline, your purpose to live was his goal. Your life with him was what made your life blossom in these past few years of marriage. But that changed too, with the bludding life growing in your belly.
You both cried that night, holding each other. It was hard to comprehend that this was happening, that a child had chosen both of you. You were glad that the Tsumiki and Megumi were at a sleep-over. They didn’t need to see you both so conflicted with your joy and your worries. No kid should be burdened by such a thing as the worries of the heavy world. 
The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of evening casting long shadows on the walls. Satoru sat across from you, his cerulean eyes reflecting a myriad of emotions—excitement, concern, and a fierce determination to protect. The news of your pregnancy had brought a bittersweet mix of joy and anxiety.
“We need to decide what to do next, darling.” Satoru said, his voice steady but laced with worry. “I don’t want you to suffer like my mother did. The multiple assassination attempts... I can’t let that happen to you.”
“We can’t tell the world, Satoru,” you said quietly with a soft nod. “The higher-ups could see this as an issue. There was a time when the passing of powers in the Gojo clan – similar to the Six-Eyes, was from father to son. They might see our child as a threat, Satoru….and I…I don’t want them to hurt our child.”
Satoru’s jaw tightened, his protective instincts kicking in. “Then we keep this between us, Megumi, and Tsumiki. My mother….maybe your mother and Aunt Arisu can help us hide this from the world too. They’ll understand the importance of keeping this secret.”
You reached out, your fingers intertwining with his. “They will. They’ve always been supportive of us…and our plans. They’ll be kind to us about this too. It is their next of kin now, after all.”
For a moment, your husband looks at you. His free hand draped across your cheek and you looked at him so lovingly, leaning your head against the warm palm of his hand. He could feel how lucky he was. How beautiful you were. His eyes lowered at your belly and felt that same warmth glowing from within you, as welcoming and loving towards the person who had helped give such life to the growing seed in your belly. 
Satoru pulled you into a gentle embrace, his arms wrapping around you protectively. “I’m sorry, darling.” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m sorry.”
You pulled back slightly, looking up at him with confusion. “Why are you apologizing?”
“Because….” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, “You’re the one who will suffer the most here, not me. The secrecy, the danger... it’s all on you. And all I can do is hold your hand. And I….”
You shook your head, resting your hand against his cheek. “Your hand is more than enough. You by my side is more than enough. All I have ever needed, all our child will ever need — is you. All they need is their father.”
“When did I ever deserve something as good as you in my life?”
You smiled at him, “Because you are good, Satoru. You’ve always been.”
“You’re the most important thing in my life.” He whispers to you, his hand on your belly. “You and our child.”
“We’re in this together, Satoru. I’m not alone in this.” You let your hand brush against his silver locks. “Because you’ll always be here, hm?”
He closed his eyes, leaning into your touch. “I love you,” he said softly, his voice trembling slightly. “I love both of you. And I’ll protect you with all I have.”
Tears welled up in your eyes, the weight of his words sinking in. “I love you too,” you whispered, feeling the strength of his love envelop you. “We’ll get through this. Together.”
The next few days were a whirlwind of planning and preparation. Your mother and Aunt Arisu were brought into the fold, their wisdom and experience invaluable in devising a plan to keep your pregnancy a secret. They promised to support you in any way they could, offering their home as a safe haven where you could hide from prying eyes.
Megumi and Tsumiki were surprisingly understanding, their loyalty to you and Satoru unwavering. They vowed to keep the secret, to protect their future sibling from the dangers that lurked in the shadows of the jujutsu world.
As the weeks turned into months, you found strength in the love and support of those around you. Satoru’s determination to protect you never wavered, his presence a constant source of comfort and reassurance. Despite the secrecy and the danger, there was a sense of hope that carried you through each day.
And in the quiet moments, when it was just the two of you, you felt a deep sense of gratitude for the love that bound you together. It was a love that would see you through the darkest of times, a love that would protect and nurture the new life growing inside you. And with Satoru by your side, you knew you could face whatever challenges lay ahead.
The days leading up to Satoru's confrontation with Sukuna were heavy with unspoken fears and silent resolutions. Each moment felt borrowed, a fragile gift that could shatter under the weight of impending doom. You moved through your days with a heightened awareness, every touch, every glance laden with meaning. The anticipation was a living thing, a constant presence that neither of you could shake.
The last time you both saw your son was during separate visits to the ancestral manor. He knew you had been there, especially when you brought Yuuji along at his request. Satoru had visited him shortly afterward, driven by an insistent need to see his boy before the impending confrontation. The weight of the world seemed lighter, if only for a moment, as he thought of his son.
Satoru could only sigh, the longing in his heart palpable. He had yearned for Suguru for the past eleven, twelve years, a constant ache that never quite faded. Yet, this longing for Suguru, as intense as it was, paled in comparison to the deep, unyielding yearning of a father. He had missed his son so much, too much. The distance, both physical and emotional, had been a torment he could hardly bear.
Satoru was certain he remembered everything about his son. The boy was a spitting image of him—silver hair that fell a bit longer, the same striking blue eyes, though his son's were even darker, like the depths of the sea. But more importantly, he recognized the essence of you in every move, every quirk, every smile. Your son might look like Satoru, but in all the ways that mattered, he was you.
Satoru adored him the most in the world. Even if he loves you, there is truly nothing that’s going to encapsulate, translate how much he loves his little boy. Your son was a constant, beautiful reminder of the bond you both shared. Your son carried your grace, your kindness, and your strength. Every time Satoru looked at him, he saw the love and unity that defined your relationship. For that, he was profoundly grateful. For that, he was happy. There was a reminder of you, of him, together in this world, encapsulated in the boy who bore the best of both of you.
And here he was, newly sealed, recovering from all of it;
All he could think about was wanting to see your dear boy.
All he could think about was wanting to embrace him again.
"I want to go to Hida," he said, his voice steady but laced with a vulnerability that made your heart ache. He looks to you softly, eyes full of yearning. “I wanna see him.”
"Are you sure?" you asked gently, searching his face for any hesitation. You purse your lips. “Satoru, it’s unsafe now. Are you sure?”
He nodded, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at his lips. "I want to spend as much time as possible trying to make sure our son understands that his father loves him."
You could hear the uncertainty in his voice, the doubt that gnawed at him despite his resolute exterior. "Satoru, you're a good father." you assured him, but he shook his head, his expression conflicted. “You have put your own heart at hold to protect him. He understands.”
"I don't know if I'm doing it right or wrong," he admitted, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I love our son as much as I love Megumi, as much as I love you. But I didn't have a father growing up. Mine died when I was young, and I don't remember him very well. My mother tells me that he loved a lot, but I don't know if I believe that."
You stepped closer, placing a comforting hand on his arm. "You love our son, and that's what matters most. He's always known that, even if you haven't been able to be there as much as you wanted. He sees it because you show him.”
Satoru sighed, his gaze distant as he recalled the moments he missed, the milestones he couldn't witness firsthand. "I want to be the best father to him, darling. I want him to know he's the most beloved son. That I love him the most in the world.”
"You already are, Satoru," you whispered, leaning your head against his shoulder.
“We have to see him.” Your husband retorts back to you, a sad smile on his lips. “If this is the last chance—”
“It won’t be,” You shake your head at him. “You know that.”
“I know, but…” He sighs, resting his head against the crook of your neck. “I want to be sure. Nothing is bound, darling. I want to… I want to be able to leave him with something he can remember his old man by.”
The weight of his words pressed down on you both, the unspoken fears and the grim reality of what was to come. You could feel your throat choke up as you tried to banish the tears from your eyes. The thought of Satoru not being there hurt you.
Not only because you loved him, but because you knew your son loved him the best in the world. The thought of him becoming without the person he holds dear in the world, it tears you apart.
You want to believe that your husband was the title he was given. You knew he was strong. You believe he will overcome this. That’s why you keep putting off visiting your son. It was safer, it would be in the future that you and Satoru had fought so hard to fight for. But your husband was just a man too. A man who has a finite life and a heart too big for the world to comprehend. He was just Satoru. A husband, a father. A friend, a teacher. He was just like that. 
You look at him with a guilty look. You were selfish with him, with what you said. He needed you, he needed Satoru. Your son needed you both. As much as you needed him. What is protecting him from all these dangers, if you both weren’t there to love him either?
What is loving Satoru if you can’t be there for him either? If you can’t love him properly either? You took a deep breath. You’ve made up your mind. You will not deprive him of this. You would not be selfish with this. You would let him be selfish. You would let him live as he had never before. 
You held him tighter, feeling the tension in his muscles, the vulnerability he rarely showed. “You’re right. We will see him, my love.” you affirmed, your voice steady. “And we’ll make sure he knows how much he’s loved.”
Satoru’s eyes met yours, a mixture of gratitude and sorrow. “Thank you, darling.” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “For understanding, for always being here. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“I’m sorry, Satoru,” you whispered to him tenderly as you kissed the small of his lips. “I should have been better with this.”
“Hey, don’t be sorry. You want to protect him too, I understand.” He tells you, a small smile on his lips. “Sukuna has familiarity with Hida, I know you’re wary about it.”
You nodded, the weight of your concerns evident in your eyes. “I just want to make sure he’s safe. That we’re all safe.”
Satoru’s smile softened, and he brushed a thumb over your cheek. “We’ll keep him safe. We’ll keep everyone safe. That’s a promise.”
You smiled softly, brushing a stray strand of hair from his forehead. “We’re in this together, Satoru. Always.”
He kissed your forehead, a lingering touch that conveyed all the words he couldn’t say. “Let’s go to Hida,” he said finally. “Let’s spend this time with him, make memories that will stay with him.”
You nodded, feeling a sense of resolve settle within you. “Yes, let’s do that. We’ll make sure he knows how much he means to us.”
All of Satoru’s training was canceled for the next few days.
Everyone understood why and said nothing about any of it.
Gojo Satoru couldn’t be happier to enjoy the long trip.
Because the next he’ll get off the train, he’ll see his dear son.
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ARRIVING IN HIDA WAS A REFRESHING THING. It was as though the looming war, the destruction, the suffering, did not exist. These precious days felt suspended in time, a haven of peace amidst the chaos.
Each sunrise brought with it a semblance of normalcy, a gentle reminder of the life you were fighting to protect. The air was filled with the scent of blooming flowers, and the sun cast a warm, golden glow over everything it touched.
As the days passed, you found moments of solace in the simple joys of being together. Satoru’s determination to be the best father he could be was palpable. He approached fatherhood with the same intensity and dedication he showed in his sorcery, and you admired the way he threw himself into the role with such fervor.
His playful nature shone brightly as he engaged your son in games, stories, and lessons. The bond between father and son grew stronger with each passing day, and it filled you with a sense of hope and reassurance.
Gojo Satoshi did not know much about the wider world beyond the confines of the carefully constructed life you and your family had built around him. But Satoru thought that was for the best. At his tender age, the complexities and dangers of the world could wait.
For now, Satoshi was wrapped in a cocoon of love and safety, his days filled with laughter and innocence. The little lordling of the Gojo clan had the privilege of being shielded from the harsh realities, existing in a world where he was cherished and adored.
“Young master Gojo, please do not run too much! You’ll slip!” His nurse-maid's voice rang out in a mix of concern and exasperation as she hurried after the energetic boy. Her normally composed demeanor was visibly frazzled as she struggled to keep pace with her lively charge. “Young master!”
“Heh, chase me! Chase me!” Satoshi's infectious giggle echoed through the gardens, his small feet moving quickly across the manicured lawn. His silvery hair, so much like his father's, shimmered in the sunlight, and his blue eyes sparkled with pure delight.
The scene was picturesque, the verdant greenery of the garden serving as a perfect backdrop to the boy's joy. Flowers bloomed in a riot of colors, and the gentle hum of insects added to the serene atmosphere.
Gojo Satoru watched from a distance, a soft smile playing on his lips. He saw so much of himself in Satoshi, from the boy’s boundless energy to the mischievous glint in his eyes. Yet, he also saw you in him—the kindness, the warmth, the innate ability to find joy in the simplest things.
Satoshi’s world was small but rich, filled with the love and attention of those who cared for him. He didn't know of the looming threats or the responsibilities that came with his lineage. Instead, his days were spent exploring the garden, listening to stories, and playing games. It was a simple life, but it was one that Satoru cherished deeply for his son.
The nurse-maid finally caught up to Satoshi, scooping him into her arms despite his playful wriggling. “Young master, you must be careful,” she chided gently, her tone softening as she adjusted his tousled hair. “We wouldn’t want you to get hurt. You are too important to be hurt.”
Satoshi pouted for a moment before breaking into a wide grin. “Okay, I’ll be careful,” he promised, though the twinkle in his eye suggested that he was already planning his next adventure.
“Our little lordling is too bright for the sun, huh?” Satoru approached, his presence immediately noticed by Satoshi, who reached out eagerly. 
“Papa!” the boy exclaimed, his arms stretching towards his father.
With a warm chuckle, Satoru took Satoshi into his arms, lifting him high into the air. “Having fun, little lordling?” he asked, his voice filled with affection. “You were zooming out there, huh?”
“Yeah!” Satoshi replied enthusiastically. “We were playing chase, and I was winning!”
Satoru laughed, his heart swelling with love. “I’m sure you were. But remember to listen to your nurse-maid, okay? We don’t want any accidents.”
Satoshi nodded solemnly before breaking into giggles again. “I will, Papa.”
As Satoru held his son close, he couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of contentment. In these moments, the worries of the world faded away, leaving only the pure, unadulterated love between a father and his child. He knew that soon enough, Satoshi would grow older and the realities of their world would become unavoidable. But for now, he was determined to protect this innocence, to ensure that Satoshi's world remained filled with laughter and love for as long as possible.
“Let’s go find Mama,” Satoru said, carrying Satoshi back towards the house. “I’m sure she’s missed you.”
Satoshi's eyes lit up at the mention of you, and he nodded eagerly. “Yeah! Let’s go find Mama!”
The path back to the house was lined with blooming cherry blossoms, their petals gently drifting to the ground with each breeze. Satoru walked with an easy grace, his son nestled securely in his arms. The house, an elegant blend of traditional and modern architecture, stood as a sanctuary amid the chaos of the outside world.
As they approached, the soft hum of your voice reached their ears. You were in the kitchen, preparing a meal, the aroma of freshly cooked rice and simmering soup wafting through the air. Your presence was a constant source of comfort and strength, grounding Satoru in ways he often struggled to articulate.
“Mama!” Satoshi called out excitedly as they entered the kitchen.
You turned, a warm smile spreading across your face as you wiped your hands on a towel. “There’s my little troublemaker,” you said, reaching out to take Satoshi from Satoru’s arms. “Were you having fun in the garden?”
Satoshi nodded vigorously. “Yes, Mama! We played chase, and I was winning!”
You chuckled, kissing his forehead. “I’m sure you were. Did you give the nurse-maid a hard time?”
Satoshi giggled, hiding his face on your shoulder. “Maybe a little.”
Satoru watched the interaction with a tender expression. “He’s full of energy today,” he commented, stepping closer to place a hand on your back. “How are you feeling?”
You glanced up at him, your eyes filled with understanding. “Better, now that you two are here.” You looked back at Satoshi, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. “Were you good for Papa?”
“Yes, Mama,” Satoshi replied earnestly. “Papa said we should always listen to nurse-maid.”
You smiled, giving Satoru an appreciative look. “That’s right. It’s important to be careful.”
Satoru's gaze softened as he watched you interact with Satoshi. Despite the looming threat of Sukuna, these moments of normalcy and love filled him with a fierce determination to protect his family at all costs.
“Dinner will be ready soon,” you said, turning back to the stove. “Why don’t you two wash up?”
Satoshi wriggled in your arms, eager to comply. “Come on, Papa!” he urged, pulling at Satoru’s hand.
“Alright, alright,” Satoru laughed, letting himself be led towards the bathroom. As he helped Satoshi wash his hands, he marveled at how such simple acts could bring so much joy.
After washing up, they returned to the kitchen where you had set the table. The meal was a humble but hearty spread, the kind that brought warmth and comfort to the soul. Satoru helped Satoshi into his chair before taking his own seat beside you.
As you all sat down to eat, Satoshi’s chatter filled the room, his stories animated and full of wonder. Satoru listened with rapt attention, his heart swelling with pride and love. He reached out to squeeze your hand under the table, a silent promise that he would do everything in his power to keep this happiness intact.
After dinner, you all settled in the living room. Satoshi, full and content, curled up next to you on the couch, his little head resting on your lap. Satoru sat beside you, his arm draped over your shoulders. The room was bathed in the soft glow of the evening light, casting a serene ambiance over the scene.
Satoru looked at you, his cerulean eyes filled with a mixture of love and determination. “We’re going to be okay,” he said softly, his voice steady. “No matter what happens, we’ll face it together.”
You nodded, leaning into his embrace. “Together,” you echoed, your hand resting gently on Satoshi’s back.
“Papa, let’s go!” Satoshi’s eyes sparkled with excitement, his little hand tugging at Satoru’s sleeve.
“Hm? Where, little lordling?” Satoru asked, his voice warm with affection.
“The koi pond!” Satoshi replied eagerly, his enthusiasm infectious.
Satoru looked at you, seeking your opinion. You nodded and offered him a warm smile. “Why not? It’s too nice today and it’s refreshing after a long play, don’t you think?”
“I suppose.” Your husband nodded to you before turning his attention back to your son, his grin widening. “Does my little lordling want to be carried by papa, or is he wanting to be a big boy and walk?”
Satoshi puffed out his chest with pride, his tiny hands clenched into determined fists. “I’ll walk, Papa! I’m a big boy!”
Satoru chuckled, patting Satoshi’s head affectionately. “That’s my boy. Lead the way, then.”
The three of you made your way to the koi pond, the garden bathed in the golden glow of the moonshine The air was filled with the gentle rustle of leaves and the soft chirping of owls settling down for the evening. It was a tranquil scene, a stark contrast to the turbulent world outside your home.
The tranquil scene was framed by vibrant greenery and the soft murmur of a nearby stream. They were watching the koi fish swim lazily in the pond, their colorful scales glinting in the moonlight. Your son was immediately chattering excitedly about something he’d learned, his voice a melodic blend of enthusiasm and curiosity. Satoru listened intently, a fond smile playing on his lips.
Satoshi skipped ahead, his laughter ringing out like a melody. You and Satoru followed at a leisurely pace, hand in hand, savoring the peaceful moment.
As you reached the koi pond, Satoshi knelt by the water's edge, his eyes wide with wonder as he watched the colorful fish swim gracefully. “Look, Papa! The fish are so pretty!”
Satoru crouched beside him, pointing out different koi. “See that one with the golden scales? That’s the king of the pond. And that one over there, with the red spots, is the queen.”
Satoshi’s eyes sparkled with delight as he listened intently to Satoru’s explanations. “Can we feed them, Papa?”
Satoru glanced at you, and you smiled, pulling out a small container of fish food from your pocket. “Here you go, Satoshi. Just a little bit at a time, okay?”
Satoshi nodded eagerly, carefully taking the container from you and sprinkling a small amount of food into the pond. The koi fish swarmed to the surface, their mouths opening and closing as they devoured the food. Satoshi giggled with delight, clapping his hands together.
“Papa, did you know that koi fish can live for over 200 years?” your son exclaimed, his eyes wide with wonder.
Satoru nodded, his gaze never leaving your son’s animated face. “Really? That’s amazing, buddy. Imagine all the stories they could tell.”
Your son giggled, the sound pure and joyful. “Maybe they know magic, too!”
Satoru’s smile widened, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Maybe they do. Maybe they’re the guardians of secret underwater realms.”
You and Satoru stood back, watching your son with fond smiles. “He’s growing up so fast.” you murmured, leaning into Satoru’s side. "Almost four already. He's not our baby anymore, hm?"
“He still is, y'know?” Satoru hummed, his arm wrapping around your shoulders. “but you're right. Soon, he’s going to grow up strong. Our beautiful boy, he’s always going to be loved, too.”
“This is perfect,” you whispered, leaning your head against Satoru’s shoulder. The warmth of his body and the steady beat of his heart grounded you, reminding you of the strength you found in each other. “This is everything we could ever want.
“It is.” Satoru agreed, his voice low and filled with emotion. “Everything is more than I imagined.”
As the moon echoed below the horizon, casting a warm evening glow over the garden, the three of you stood by the koi pond, savoring the simple joys of family and the promise of a future filled with love and hope. All Gojo Satoru had to do was defeat Sukuna. All he had to do was get this over with. Then all will be over. He’ll get to be with you. He’ll get to be with Satoshi. You could be a family in peace.
Gojo Satoru wouldn’t be the strongest then.
He could just be himself, he could just be this.
He could just be your husband, Satoshi’s father.
He can be a human being for the first time in his life.
“Papa, can we stay here forever?” your son asked suddenly, his eyes wide with innocence. Both of you look at him. “You and mama, can we all be here together?”
Your son's innocent question hung in the air, a poignant reminder of the simplicity of childhood dreams. Satoru's gaze softened as he looked down at your son, his expression a mixture of tenderness and wistfulness. It was a question that held a weight far beyond its years, touching on the deepest desires of the heart.
For a moment, neither of you knew quite how to respond. The idea of staying in this tranquil moment forever, frozen in time with your family by your side, was undeniably tempting. Yet, reality loomed on the horizon, with its uncertainties and responsibilities.
Satoru exchanged a glance with you, silently communicating the depth of his emotions. There was a longing in his eyes, a yearning for a life free from the burdens of duty and danger. But beneath it all, there was a fierce determination to protect what mattered most—your family.
With a gentle smile, you reached out and ruffled your son's hair. "We'll always be together, Satoshi. No matter what happens, we'll find a way to stay together."
Satoru's hand found yours, his grip reassuring and firm. "That's right, little lordling. We'll always be here for you, no matter where life takes us."
Your son's eyes sparkled with happiness at your reassurance, his small hand reaching out to clasp both of yours. "Promise?"
You exchanged a knowing look with Satoru, his expression mirroring your own determination. "Promise," you both said in unison, sealing the vow with a tender smile
The soft glow of moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting gentle shadows across the room as you lay entwined with your husband and son. In the tranquil silence of the night, you could hear the steady rhythm of their breathing, a comforting reminder of the love that bound you together.
Wrapped in the warmth of each other's embrace, you felt a profound sense of contentment wash over you. It was in these quiet moments, surrounded by the ones you held most dear, that you found solace from the chaos of the outside world. Here, in the sanctuary of your shared love, you felt invincible, ready to face whatever challenges awaited you.
As you closed your eyes and drifted off to sleep, a serene smile graced your lips. In the arms of your beloved family, you knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, you would overcome them with unwavering strength and unwavering love.
“Satoru, my love.” you whispered, your hand entwined with his. “Thank you for being here. For being with us.”
He turned to you, his eyes filled with love. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be, darling. You and our son… you’re my everything.”
You smiled, feeling the warmth of his words seep into your heart. “And you’re ours. Always.”
The days turned into weeks, and the time for Satoru’s confrontation with Sukuna drew closer. But instead of being consumed by fear, you found strength in the love that surrounded you. The bond you shared with Satoru, the love you had for your son, and the support of your family gave you the courage to face whatever lay ahead.
On the last evening before Satoru was to leave with you, the three of you all gathered under the stars, the night sky a blanket of twinkling lights above you. Your son sat on Satoru’s lap, his head resting against his father’s chest.
“Papa, will you come back soon?” he asked, his voice small and filled with hope.
Satoru hugged him tightly, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I’ll do everything I can to come back to you, buddy. You and your mama are my entire world. Papa can’t live without any of you.”
Your son nodded, content with his father’s promise. “Me too, papa.”
“Hm?”
“I can’t live without you and mama.” Your son whispers to his father, wiping his father’s tears tenderly. Satoru blinked at his son’s act. “So papa has to do well and come back, with mama?”
In that tender moment, the depth of the bond between father and son was palpable. Satoru's heart swelled with emotion as he gazed into his son's earnest eyes, filled with a love so pure and unconditional it took his breath away. With a lump in his throat, he tightened his embrace, savoring the warmth of his son's small body pressed against his own.
His voice was thick with emotion as he replied, "I promise, buddy. I'll do everything in my power to come back to you and mama. You both mean the world to me, and I can't bear the thought of being without you."
Your son's response was equally heartfelt, his voice soft yet resolute. "I believe in you, papa. We'll be waiting for you, always."
You leaned against Satoru, drawing comfort from his presence. “I love you so much.”
He takes a breath. “I love you too. With everything in me.”
The night was quiet, filled with the gentle sounds of nature and the steady rhythm of your hearts beating in unison. As you closed your eyes, Satoru whispered a silent prayer, to any god listening above. If there ever was one. He prayed.
He wished that he could come home. He wished that he could be with you. He wished that he could watch Satoshi grow up. He wishes for that dream, for that hope, to come true.
That’s what all he could see as he lay there.
Shoko Ieiri looked him in the eyes as he struggled.
He smiles at her and then you, puddle full of tears.
“I love you.” He choked. “You and Satoshi, I love you.”
From faraway Hida, a boy sits by the koi pond and prays.
“I hope that my mama and papa return to good health soon.”
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flashback epilogue
The hospital room was cast in a gentle, dim light, creating a serene atmosphere that belied the intensity of the recent events. Satoru sat on the edge of the bed, his broad shoulders relaxed yet filled with a quiet strength as he cradled his newborn son,  little Gojo Satoshi, against his chest. 
With delicate care, he adjusted the soft blankets around little Satoshi, ensuring his newborn son was warm and comfortable. Despite the fatigue evident in his eyes, there was a palpable sense of wonder and tenderness in Satoru's touch as he looked down at the tiny bundle in his arms.
Meanwhile, you lay nearby, your form softened by the relief of finally finding respite after the long and arduous hours of labor. Your face, though etched with exhaustion, held a serene expression, a testament to the profound sense of fulfillment that accompanied the arrival of your precious child.
In that quiet moment, amidst the hushed sounds of the hospital room, the bond between parent and child blossomed, enveloping the room in an aura of warmth and love that seemed to transcend time itself. Satoru couldn’t be happier to carry his whole world in his arms.
Gazing down at the tiny bundle in his arms, Satoru felt a surge of overwhelming love wash over him. With a soft smile, he leaned in close to Satoshi's ear, whispering words of welcome and affection.
"Welcome to the world, my beautiful boy." Satoru murmured, his voice filled with warmth. "D’you know what your name is? What it means?”
The little boy cooed at his father’s words.
Satoru laughed softly, looking at him lovingly.
He was already so attentive towards his father.
“Mama and I decided together, y’know? Your name just had to be Satoshi.” Satoru takes a deep breath, smiling as the baby cooes again. “You’re satisfied, hm? But you’ll like the spelling more, little man.”
Satoru could only feel overwhelmed by what he felt.
He could only feel nothing but joy, nothing but elation.
The dawn was breaking, as it always had before this moment.
But now,  where his own dawn was in his hands, he just smiled.
“Papa chose the character for you. It means 'dawn'.” He whispered to him tenderly, almost like a little lullaby. “Because you are the beginning of a new chapter for our family. You bring light and hope into our lives, just like the dawn brings a new day."
There was a louder coo this time around.
He was more than happy, Satoru thinks.
And he couldn’t be happier than this moment.
This beautiful boy, his darling boy, his dawn.
Satoru pressed a gentle kiss to Satoshi's forehead, marveling at the precious life he held in his arms. "I love you so much, my son," he whispered, his heart overflowing with love and joy at the arrival of their little miracle. “My little dawn.”
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shaisuki · 3 months
Text
THE EXTENSIONS OF MY DEVOTION
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YANDERE! HUSBAND MIKAGE REO X CHUBBY READER
content warnings ─── implied noncon, forced marriage, yandere themes babytrapping, reader wants to have more kids, stockholm syndrome, smut, breeding kink, dubcon, pregnancy, talks of childbirth.
ᝰ synopsis .ᐟ all changed in the blink of an eye and now you're the wife and mother of his children and despite all of what your ceo husband had done to you, you want more children.
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the first time you feel him moving inside you, you were absolutely disgusted. horrified for soon to becoming the mother of the baby inside you. created by reo's selfishness and greediness that destroyed your once mundane life.
then he was born. all your worries and fear disappeared with the appearance of your baby. cradled in your arms and his little hand grasping your pinky finger. there were tears of regret streaming down your face of how you could hate this innocent little child without knowing what his father had done to you. wiping down the tears you made a commitment to yourself.
you were going to love this one with all your heart.
the first year with reo being your husband it was hell. how you were only doing paperwork yesterday, now it was filled with days of being told how to act like a proper wife to your ceo husband and being a mother to his heir. maintaining appearances to fit with your status. you're not a commoner anymore, the governess would say to you while being taught of the proper etiquettes.
you didn't enjoy any of it. aside from being taught on how to care for an infant which you insisted despite reo telling you that the nanny can handle it but you refused. you weren't raising this child to be spoiled, stuck up person. you will raise your child like how the way you were raised and your child is the only one who can receive your whole unconditional love.
mikage reiji. your firstborn with your husband. the surname almost bring tears to your eyes. you have it, the surname. appealing it was and leave everyone to be in awe as being the wife and the mother of his child — it was the kind of branding that means he owned you.
reiji was the reason of it. after reo forced himself to you and find out you were carrying his future heir, a wedding soon followed. it was his right, your soon-to-be husband said to you and he won't let his child with you be born to be an illegitimate and your fate was sealed.
even reiji was the cause of it, you lived your days with your son and his presence brought you peace. the only thing reo had done good that you learned to accept.
you enjoyed being a mother to your child and reo was a doting father. praising you for being a good mother to his child and he'll reward you with a kiss that soon turned to be a night of worshipping you.
after that when reiji turned a year old, you were pregnant again. the thought of being with child again scared you but when you look at reiji, you knew it was going to be fine and despite how much you hated reo, a new realization dawned on you. this occured to you many times before when your time was all on taking care of your baby that you enjoyed being a mother and you wished for more.
then reiji was followed by his baby sister being born a year later. a new addition to your family and you were happy. what's dark and cold when you were with reo is now replaced with the neverending joy of being with your children. watch as they outgrow their clothes, learned to call you as their mama. their cute giggles melting the worries in your heart and when the siblings are old enough to sleep in their own rooms, you found the courage to tell reo of your wishes one night.
“reo?” the ceo hums in response when you called his name while he's behind you. his arm draped in your plush stomach, drawing soft circles on it.
“i wish to tell you something.” you shift in your position. turning your body to face him. “what is it, treasure?” his voice soft and mellow. it's the only way he addressed you. “i want to have more children with you.” meeting his gaze and observe how it changes into something of curiosity to one of darkening. smirk blooming in his face.
“that's it, my wife?” he asks. knowing damn sure of it. reo have all the riches in the world and the wealth to give you more what you want and needed. “you want to give reiji and reiko a another sibling, a good choice — treasure.” moving above you to trap you with his body. pinning your arms in both sides as he licks his lips.
some part of you hates him or you got used to it. of him exploiting you and in return you treat it as something normal. no matter how you threatened him or cry in front of him, it doesn't change anything. reo made sure a long time ago that he'll find you even in the deepest pits of hell just to have you again.
it's enough to keep you beside him with no qualms and only received his undying fondness to you. he's obsessed and you're feeding it to him.
“yeah.” you confirm to him and reo leans down. capturing your lips to his and pushing his tongue deep inside your mouth. lowering the straps of your nightgown and tugging it down to reveal the body of his wife that had given him children.
two pregnancies and you're still looking divine. stomach rounder and littered with stretch marks, he can't wait to get you pregnant again. his gorgeous wife that turns anyone green with envy.
“g—going to breed this pussy again.” he groans. his hips moving in a fast pace with the intent of knocking you up again. “you want that, treasure? he moans out, holding your hips tighter. going deeper as possible like the first time he had done it to you. “want me to cum in this pretty pussy of yours and make me a father again? you want that?”
“yes! yes — ahhh! please, reo!” you cry out. digging your nails in his arms and he can feel you tighten. sucking him deep into this warm cunt of yours. it spurs him more to please his wife and giving her what she wants. reo only wants that happiness of yours.
he kisses you once again, your legs locking around his hips to prevent him from pulling out and with a brutal slam of his hips, both of your orgasm came rolling. spurts and spurts of his cum filling your fertile womb and soon it will bless him with a another child and he will fill you up again like a good husband.
there's nothing quite like it when he's all yours and you, round with his baby again.
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yandere-romanticaa · 2 months
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she walks in beauty.
🎀 Today is Diluc's birthday. However, instead of focusing on himself, he can't help but to fall into his usual lovesick trap of gentle obsession.
yandere! diluc ragnvidr x fem! reader.
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Ever since he was a young lad, Diluc could recall every single banquet and celebration which was hosted by the Dawn Winery estate. He could still sense the smell of various colorful liquors and taste the endless sea of pastries and cakes which were served at such events, making the inner child in him smile.
However, Diluc was no longer a young child.
Ever since the passing of his father, the need to throw any grand banquets was thoroughly diminished. While yes, there were certain things he could not avoid due to societal expectations, he still made the decision to keep things to an absolute minimum.
His birthday was not one of them. At least, not by his choice.
Everyone and their mother knew what day it was today and Diluc lost count with how many birthday wishes and gifts he had received. He was a little touched with the plethora of people who wanted him nothing other than joy, but those same people quickly became a nuisance because he could not seem to be with the one he actually wanted to be with today.
And there stood Diluc, hidden in the shadowy hallway as he watched his beloved prepare for the upcoming festivities. With both his arms crossed and his left side pressed firmly against the dark wood doorframe, Diluc decided in that moment that there was nowhere else he'd rather be than here.
His red eyes watched you thoroughly like a hawk, making sure to remember the ravishing scenery before him.
As much as you disliked his gifts, you didn't have a choice but to accept them this evening. The gentle sapphire necklace hung around your neck perfectly, the fine silver glimmering gently beneath the flickering candle flames. Diluc's gaze quickly shifted to your arms as they toyed with the various strands of hair at the top of your head, carefully adjusting the matching pin he had gotten you not too long ago.
He felt his heart skip a beat once he caught a glimpse of the wedding ring on your finger, causing him to nearly lose his composure and blow his cover altogether. His own ring seemed to come alive as he felt it around his finger, seemingly pulsing with a firey need to just take you, to see the light in your eyes, to beg you to please forgive him-
Even now, he could still hear you weep, for each tear felt like a stab straight into his bleeding heart.
Please, don't lock me away, you pleaded.
"I will be with no one but you. I will give you everything you desire but please Diluc-
Do not keep me as a prisoner!"
He sighed as he fidgeted with his gloved fingers. Diluc hated himself for doing this to you, for making you so utterly miserable. He was the one who took you away, it was him who had stolen that precious smile away from you. If you had been a normal couple perhaps this evening could have been more bearable. Perhaps he could have even enjoyed it, with you by his side.
But that was not how things were going to play out.
Diluc was stuck in a Hell of his own making. Every single tear that you had shed and will shed - that was all on him. Money can buy a lot of things but your love was not one of them. A new surge of determination was born deep inside of Diluc on that night of his birthday and he finally knew what his wish was.
He wished to make amends. Perhaps he could learn to live without your love, even if the mere thought made his teeth shake in fury and heart cry out in blind sorrow.
But he needed you to know that you were loved. He needed you to know that he was going to keep you safe. He was going to love you until his very last breath and even then, he would wait for the day of your sweet forgiveness.
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🥀 TAGS: @genshinarchives, @mod-kisa-blog, @juuuuuj101010, @kalopses-sonderes, @mayulli, @b10h4z4rd, @xiaopleasecomehome, @saturnalya, @alatusprinz, @lakxcpsta, @mewmeowmika, @ranposgirlboss, @goldenglow149
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Happy birthday to this wonderful man. He was my first ever husband in Genshin Impact, he deserves something extra sweet from yours truly.
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tteokdoroki · 10 months
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☆༉ — KATSUKI BAKUGOU. baby talk.
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about. you know how people raise their voices all high and squeal, and pout through their words when they talk to babies?…yeah? well imagine that with your husband, katsuki.
warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! sfw, fluff, baby talking (lots of w’s involved), cutesy speech, baby doesn’t have a name, new parents, reader is referred to as mommy, fem!reader, girl dad + pro hero!bakugou, uncle!deku.
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you’ve always known your husband, bakugou, to be slightly rough around the edges. being the man that he is, and witnessing first hand every struggle he’s ever gone through, it’s hard to imagine him without his hardened outer shell. your katsuki has stood on the brink of death more than once — testing, fighting it… all while facing a world that saw him as good for nothing and evil. 
how could you expect a man like that to be anything other than defensive, brash and bold? katsuki bakugou can be a little harsh, a little too mean at times but that’s never deterred you from giving him all the love he thinks he doesn’t deserve. you’d give him all the stars in the sky if you could, and he would give you the universe in turn. 
he was far from cookie cutter perfect, yet, even with his bumps and sharp edges, katsuki tried to love you and let you in. still, you’d never thought you’d see the day when all of the blonde’s roughness, his bared fangs and callous tongue all melted away for another human being aside from you. 
for your darling baby girl. 
“who’s my ‘eepy lil’ girl? you are! yeah. you are, sweetheart. oh, what’s that? big yawn for daddy?” the blonde coos with a sunshine smile that lights up the entirety of his well-aged face. you’re still young, for parents of a eight month old but even you can see the way that his hair is slightly silvered at his undercut that’s growing out and there are finer lines under ruby framed eyes (the late nights and early starts are probably the reason for that). 
still, with all of this, and even with your genetics throwing a spanner in the works — your daughter is the spitting image of bakugou and he loves her. he loves her pale blonde curls, big bambi red eyes and her all the parts about her that remind him of you. 
pulling her from her crib to settle her on his hip, the bigger bakugou rubs the sleep from her eyes as she wakes up from her nap. “so freakin’ cute.” he hums, licking his thumb to wipe over the traces of tears on her cheeks.
ever since she was born, earlier and around spring time, bakugou has been absolutely obsessed with the tiny human version of him you'd blessed him with. he’ll be the first one up at the crack of dawn when she cries for her breakfast, he’s happy to carry around her dynamight themed baby bag and always apologises to you when you have to change her explosive diapers (or he just does it for you.).
baby dynamight goes everywhere with her daddy, she’d be on patrols if you’d let bakugou take her on them too. she’s absolutely spoiled as well, with more clothes and toys and itty bitty little shoes a baby of her age would need despite how often you tell your husband that she’ll just grow out everything. perhaps your little girl is more spoiled than you — not that you mind, because it only means you get to witness adorable moments like these each and every day.
“katsuki, she’s supposed to be lying down.” you remind him gently, stepping past the threshold of the nursery to be by his side. your daughter instantly reaches out to curl three of her tiny fingers around your index, drooling in content between both of her parents.
bakugou looks down at you with a distraught pout. “yeah… but she woke up cryin’ f’me so i came to check on my sweepy wittol pwincess.” you giggle at how high pitched katsuki makes his voice when he talks about your daughter, baby-talking her whilst waving her tiny little hand at you. “say hi to momma, sweet girl. say hi!” 
the mini bakugou tucked into his bulky arms lets out an excited squeal — though she’s quickly distracted by mapping her hands up and down the squiggly lines (tattoos) on daddy’s arms. 
“exactly,” you press, grabbing an uravity themed spit up cloth from the diaper station behind you moth. carefully, you mop up the drool tracks baby dynamight leaves on katsuki before dabbing at her chin as well. “we’re trying to get her to learn how to go back to sleep on her own. which means?” 
“leavin’ her to cry until she falls back to sleep….” 
“which is why?” 
bakugou’s shoulders sag in defeat. you know how much he hates leaving her to cry, it’s been difficult for him to adjust to not just picking her up whenever she needs or he wants to. “you invited stupid deku over ‘n daddy has to have stupid drinks with his big stupid broccoli head, ain’t that right gorgeous?” your baby grins with her gums again and bakugou blows a raspberry at her. “oh yeah? yes it is! look at that pretty girl smilin’, just like momma.” 
you know he’s trying to butter you up for more time with her — you’re a sucker for the father-daughter bond they have already, you fear that you might melt if you look at the two of them together any longer. they’re a sight for sore eyes, the two loves of your life cuddled up with each other, baby bakugou’s pudgy cheek resting on katsuki’s warm chest (no doubt lulling her back to sleep).
“katsuki please,” you plead weakly, ready to give up on being the rain on this baby parade so you can scoop your little girl up and shower her with kisses. “we have guests and she needs to go back to sleep. or she’ll be up in the middle of the night.” 
the elder blonde can’t help the proud smile that illuminates his face as he watches his two girls together — the way you fiddle with her baby grow to make sure she’s cosy. “s’okay, daddy’ll wake up for you, won’t he?” bakugou sways from side to side, toying with all the tiny features on your daughter before catching your exasperated look. “alright, fine. back to sleep we go princess. don’t mind mommy, she’s jus’ bein’ meanie who won’t let me show you off.” 
there’s a tender moment, where time stands still, while katsuki lowers his pride and joy back into her crib — fighting back what are probably tears as she clings onto every part of him, looking up at him with her matching big beautiful ruby eyes. he feels as though he’s looking into a mirror that reflects not only him but parts of you as well. 
“night night princess, goodnight! daddy loves ya—“
said moment is lost when izuku stops by the nursery on his way back down stairs from the bathroom. “wait, kacchan baby-talks?” 
“of course i do nerd!” bakugou’s head whips up faster than the speed of sound, and you have to refrain from laughing at how fast he goes from soft and tender father to deku’s public enemy number one. “she’s my fuckin’—”  the blonde pauses after receiving a warning glance from you. no cursing in front of the baby. “freakin’ kid!”
the number one raises his hands in surrender, sheepish laughter spilling out of him. “relax kacchan! i was only teasing.” 
“tease my ass! you go ‘nd have a kid with your partner ‘n see what it turns you into — in fact, ‘m surprised you don’t have a whole litter already. what with the way you two are fuckin’.”
“oh that’s rich coming from you, kacchan. you guys  literally conceived at my family barbecue last year!” 
“well you fucked on my desk. my desk. so it’s only right that we—!” 
while the boys bicker, you make quick work of ensuring your daughter is safely tucked in and her pacifier is popped into her mouth just in case she wakes up again and needs to soothe herself. stroking back her peach fuzz curls, you press a kiss to the soft membrane of her skull and pull back with a wistful grin while she drifts off to sleep again. her unfairly long lashes flutter against your hand, mostly inherited from her father.
“alright boys, that’s enough!” you whisper yell, hands still on the bar of the crib to make “don’t you see that she’s sleeping again? we wouldn’t wanna wake her up, right?” 
katsuki pouts. “you’re right, sorry, sweetness.” 
midoriya nods along agreeably, taking a peek at his sleeping niece from the doorway.“right! otherwise we’d have to send daddy back in there to save baby girl’s day. he can’t resist his pwecious gwirl.” 
“i said shut the fuck up, izuku!” your husband snarls, cheeks burning fire truck red. 
“yes daddy!” izuku bats his eyelashes at him.
“i’ll kill you, nerd.”
“i’d like to see you try, daddy!”
“boys!” 
you do try your best to intercept, but your daughter beats you to it — waking up with a fresh set of tears and a wail so loud it has two big, burly pro heroes baby-talking her in an attempt to get her right back to sleep.  
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꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
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chosos-mascara · 1 year
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wedding night
𝙩𝙤𝙟𝙞 𝙛𝙪𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙜𝙪𝙧𝙤 𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧
𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 - after an arranged marriage to unite your clans, you're left alone in a hotel room with your new husband.
𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 - arranged marriage (reader + toji), cunnilingus, pet names (sweetheart, baby), possessiveness from toji ("you're mine"), toji's described as big, reader submissive, creampie 1.4k words
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Toji threw himself down, mattress moving with the buoyancy of his body, pushing him upward only slightly before bowing with his weight. He'd unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt - blazer and waistcoat discarded long before the end of the night. You stood awkwardly, thumb caressing over the back of one hand for comfort. In this moment, you'd been thankful for the less interesting choice in bridal gown, an ivory slip dress for a more casual occasion - it had suited Toji's lax manner abundantly well. It must have been a characteristic your mother had predicted, or perhaps learned from the husband she had picked out for you. 
"Y're lookin' like a lost little puppy." Perhaps the first sentence your new husband had said to you. Most of the evening had consisted of interacting with families, the uniting of clans more important than the binding of two people. The Zen'in's had only agreed to allow your clan to ally with them if you would marry whom they'd viewed as their weakest - born with no cursed energy. Though as your eyes wondered over the rugged man before you, you'd been left to witness an aura like no other. From one glance at Toji, you'd felt he'd held more ability than any Zen'in you'd met that evening. 
"Sorry." You'd mumbled, gaze met with narrow green eyes. He'd made himself comfortable, laying back on the bed with his head supported by the thickness of pillows, black hair splaying onto the white sheets surrounding him.  "Jus' go get changed n take your face off - or whatever ladies do at night." Toji's eyes closed, an arm draping across his forehead. Glancing toward the bathroom, you'd did as he'd suggested, a white nightie packed neatly within the bag you'd dropped off earlier in the day. 
Even after washing up and changing, you hadn't wanted to return to the room in which Toji had laid. The realization that the man on the other side of these walls had now been bound to you by law, and by your families standards had some ownership over you had dawned deeply over your mind. The excitement of escaping your family had lifted, replaced by the dread of a man you'd never met before your wedding day. 
Toji had been closed off for the entire event, speaking only to those close to him, ordering the same glass of whiskey over the course of the evening. He hadn't appeared rude toward you, yet he'd not seemed too interested either. Hunched against the tiles, you were left with the question of what he'd expected of you this evening - the first night as a married couple. Sighing, you lifted a hand to the lock, deciding to push yourself into the unknown. With enough luck, the alcohol he'd drank would've lulled him into a peaceful slumber, in which you'd be able to mirror within the hour. 
"Thought you'd ran away." His voice had almost startled you when you'd opened the door. Toji now sat upright with phone in hand, eyes glued to your figure. It had been obvious where his gaze had landed, right over the peak of fabric that covered your breasts, small bumps over the perked nipples due to change in air. You hadn't expected him to look over you so nonchalantly, yet his attention had caused a twist within your stomach you'd appreciated. 
"And, why would that be?" The tone from your voice had been more seductive than you'd intended, though with his scan of your curves and clear interest in the nightgown you'd worn, part of you'd hoped he'd reflect the sultry aura.  "Took a long time is all." Toji shifted, finally locking his phone and placing it on the bedside table. When his hand had been left empty, it had immediately drifted down to his belt, resting over the top of his fly. The movements had drawn your attention to the area, noticing a larger bulge beneath the fabric. 
"Was getting ready for you." Lips curving upward, you placed one foot in front of the other, finally guiding your nervous body toward the bed he'd lounged within.  "Oh, really?" His voice had sounded distant as his focus remained only on your physical being, pushing himself away from the headboard when your body had finally met with the mattress beside him.  "Do you like it?" There was a slight need for validation even if you'd been aware of his answer, wanting to hear praise fall from his mouth. The scar over his lip contorted when you'd asked, a smirk forming when he'd finally lifted his eyes from your chest, meeting your own.  "I'm a man, after all." 
Lips connecting, you'd been left to taste the Zen'in you'd now called your husband. The first kiss shared with one another - a heated and passionate affair after a much too stressful day. In fact, it had been a build up over the past month that had driven both you and him insane - one that you'd finally overcome. Toji's difference from his family had given you faith that perhaps he'd been a good man - the opposite to most Zen'ins within his clan. 
Large hands were quick to glide over the silk as his weight shifted above you, legs spreading to accommodate his wide structure. He hadn't taken his time with the outfit, moving the skirt upward with aggression until you'd been left bare from chest down, exposed to the male above you.  "Couldn't like it that much if you're taking it off so quickly." There had been confidence behind your voice that Toji had admired, a fire ignited within him when remembering you were his to fuck all he'd pleased. A bratty woman had some appeal behind it, a challenge to guide you into submission.   "Prefer you bare." His words were spoken against your stomach as his tongue met with your skin, licking and nipping over flesh and allowing goosebumps to trail behind his touch. Toji's breath was hot against you, tickling you as he'd made his way over your core. Unlike the haste with uncovering you, he took his time in lowering himself to reach between your thighs, leaving your heart to race in anticipation.
Finally, his face had halted, tongue pressing to you entrance and gliding a stripe upward, a low hum from your lips as he'd began to taste you. Toji had been eager once relishing in your flavor, swirls of his tongue as you'd been left to appreciate the work of his mouth. Leisurely, he placed middle finger alongside his tongue, moving the pad over you to move alongside his tongue, before finally drifting down and dipping into your already dripping core. Your hips had innately bucked upward, a languid grind against his face and whimper from lips as he'd drawn his finger in and out, another irrepressible moan when he'd added a second. 
The build up had began when he'd picked a pace, fluid movements of his wrist and mouth, soft sucks over the sweet bud that had him humming against your cunt in adoration. Your fingers had found their way to lace within his hair, a gentle tug to signify your pleasure pulling another sound from his chest.  "Close." The word uttered under your breath as your eyes had squeezed closed, a high pitched squeak from your body as you'd felt your high crash over you. Toji had chuckled against you, vibrations adding to intensity. 
Only when you'd fell limp to the bed, whines dying on your tongue, had Toji pulled back, a languid wipe over his face before unbuttoning his trousers. He hadn't given you a chance to look before lining himself with your wetness, a jolt from your body when feeling the head of him run along your folds, a hiss flowing between his teeth when finally stretching you over him.  "Gonna take it all, sweet thing?" His whisper had caused tingles to prick over your spine, a slight burn when he'd pushed deeper into you. When adjusting to size you'd thought it better you hadn't caught a glimpse of his length before he'd entered you. 
Slowly, he rocked his hips, mouth latching over your neck and sucking to leave a mark. One large hand grasped over your chest, fingers wrapping around as he'd squeezed harshly over a breast. "Such'a good girl." The deep tone had ricocheted from the base of your neck as his face had nestled between shoulder and throat, another roll into you. The initial pain had subsided and you'd felt yourself relaxing beneath him, each rock causing his lower abdomen to glide over your cunt, kissing the surface of your clit. You'd ran teeth over your bottom lip, a shudder over skin when contact had been made.  "My fucking good girl." Toji's possessiveness had been apparent, yet it hadn't scared you. When he'd groped and squeezed over your body, marking you and claiming you as his, you'd been left in enjoyment rather than fear. 
"'m all yours, Toji." The approval from your lips had him groaning against you, an excited bite over your skin as he'd pulled his face back, allowing himself to admire the woman beneath him. When your eyes had fluttered open, you'd been met with the same green orbs you'd caught only glimpses of throughout the day, pupils now blown out, skin prickled with heat.  "Say that again, baby."  "I'm yours, Toji." Hearing his name, he jolted forward, stomach sucking inward when feeling you wrap around his base and take him at full length. The movement had caused your mouth to drop wider in awe, eyes rolling upward.  "Fuck-" He drew back before pounding himself forward again, though this time his body had stuttered with the movement, a staggered breath from lips. "Take it-" Toji's instruction had been cut short by a guttural groan, head tilting back as he'd fucked his seed into you. 
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tags - @suget
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mmurderhousewrites · 3 months
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Rich Baby Daddy pt. one (sukuna x reader)
Summary: You're invited to a party by a close friend and end up bumping into someone from your past.
Warnings: none.
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The mornings used to be your favorite. Waking up next to your hunk of a man. The sun shining through your bedroom windows. Oh how you missed those lovely mornings.
Now however, your mornings consisted of you waking up at the crack of dawn due to your crying 4 year old. bathing and clothing not only yourself but your child as well, making breakfast, and somehow managing to get to work on time.
Now on your days off, if you were lucky, Yuji, your son, would sleep in. And if god was somehow on your side that day, your baby daddy might even come pick up his son for awhile, giving you some free time. But those days were rare considering Sukuna is a business man.
Sukuna is the CEO of jujutsu tech, a huge electronic corporation. you had met him through your close friend getou and hit it off. Eventually you two moved in with each other and not long after that he got you pregnant.
Times have changed though unfortunatley. Sukuna is a very hard working man, so hardworking that he put his job before his own family. About a year after yuji was born you decided to leave after getting into a big argument with sukuna, taking yuji with you.
At first you stayed with your parents for a while before finding yourself a cute apartment in the city, it was a two bedroom 1 and a half bathroom. That's where you and yuji have been ever since.
You and your baby dad have had a neutral relationship ever since, sukuna of course always trying to get you to go back but times have changed and you are a new woman.
As of now it was about 1:00pm. You worked as a journalist in the new station in the city, not to far from your apartment. sitting at your desk, going through old news feed, your phone dings.
Looking over you see youve gotten a message. It was from Getou.
Geto: hey, theres some kind of party later a friend of mine is hosting. Wanted to know if u were interested in being my plus 1 ;p
You giggle to yourself. What a flirt. You could always drop yuji off to your parents for the night, after all they loved your little pink haired baby. And on top of that you could use a night out.
Quickly typing back to geto you respond,
Me: Sounds interesting.. Whats the dresscode?
geto: formal. I figure you might get a good story out of one of these rich folks huh?
Me: hmmm i think im sold suguru.
geto: great! ill pick you up at 8.
"L/N! I'm not paying you to text on your phone! I need a story!" You hear your boss, Mark yell from his office behind you.
You roll your eyes before collecting your things, standing up you head over to marks office. "The Richardsons are hosting a party tonight, i'm gonna see what tea i can find. I know the juliani"s are hiding something." You say leaning against the door frame.
"yeah well the Juliani's have a mind of their own."
"im gonna leave to go get ready." you say turning around, heading to the exit.
"L/N!" Mark calls out to you making you stop and turn to face him. "be careful. I don't need another Journalist coming up missing." You nod your head before leaving the building and heading to the parking lot.
It was true, the last journalist who went to investage the Juliani family, they turned up missing. In fact it was your coworker Nobara Kugisaki. Police reports were made out by her family about a week ago and nothing has come up.
you shivered as you walked to your car, the cold making it so you can see your breathe. Once you reached your car, a small 2020 Honda civic, you opened your door and put your bags in.
"Y/n" you freeze, hearing that oh so sexy voice say your name for the first time in what? months?
Turning around you find yourself face to face with the man you once loved, oh who are you kidding still love. He was wearing a long black coat and black jeans, his pink hair ruffled as usual and his tattoos just added to his handsome features.
"ryo- what are you doing here?" You ask, crossing your arms.
He walks closer to you, making you take a step back, leaning against your cars back door.
"i just wanted to see you." He says quietly, swiping a piece of your hair out of your face and behind your ear. You can't help but blush.
Pushing his hand away, you roll your eyes. "What are you really here for" you werent an idiot. Sukuna is a powerful man and busy one at that, there was no way he got out of work just to come see you.. especially considering he barely seen your son. But you couldn't be mad after all he was sending you checks every few weeks with at least 3,000$ on them.. so he was still providing for you and yuji in a way.
He chuckles, "I heard youre going to that party later with Getou.."
Was he serious right now? "What about it?" You question, eyebrow perking up.
"Don't go." He says darkly.
"Are you kidding me? What are you jealous? I'm a grown woman i deserve a night out once in a while!" You say before turning away and hoping in your car.
Sukuna leans against your window, so you roll it down. "Look kitten, if i were you i'd actually listen to your baby dad for once. It's not gonna be pretty" he smiles before backing away from your car.
You take this opportunity to pull out of the parking lot, making your way to yuji's daycare.
When you arrive at the daycare. You are first greeted by gojo, one of the daycare teachers and also getou's best friend.
"Well hello there Y/N! Here for yuuji?" Gojo asks, leaning towards you. "Its nap time right now so the children are asleep."
"Well unfortunately i'm going to have ti disturb his sleep because we have a pretty busy schedule for tonight" you laugh. "How have you been?" You havent really had a conversation with gojo in a while, you and him werent close, maybe because of how much of an extrovert he is.
"Im alriiight! I got a new apartment on 37th its a real beautyy." He drags on.
"Nice! Thats good to here" gojo pulls out his walky talky and yells loudly, "yuji has an early dismissal!!"
Next thing you know, theres a bunch of crying children in the next room over. What an idiot. You mentally facepalm.
Shoko, another daycare teacher comes out with yuji in her arms. He looks over to you and smiles.
After you get yuji and yourself situated in the car, you guys make your way over to your parents house. You had called them on your way to get yuji and of course they were more then thrilled to take yuji for the night.
Your parents lived anout 25 minutes away from the city so the drive wasnt too bad. Yuji was in his carseat playing on his ipad and minding his business.
"Mommy can i have 100$" your four year old says randomly. You cant help but laugh loudly.
"What do you need $100 for butt?" You ask, looking back at your som through the rear view mirror.
"I want a trampoline" he says, looking at you.
"You already have a trampoline at Nana's house and youre going there right now."
"But thats at nana's i want my own! My friend megumi has one at his house" he says, rolling his eyes.
"Yeah yeah."
After dropping your sin off to your parents, and making your way make home, you look through your closet trying to find a decent formal dress. You did have quit a few dresses considering you and sukuna would attend parties and other get togethers for business reasons.
Coming across a long black velvet dress you stop your search. This dress is skin tight and strapless, but has small diamonds adorned around the dress, making it sparkle just right.
Once you got dressed and finished your makeup, you put your hair up into a slick back ponytail, and added a little star charm clip to go with it. You looked absolutely gorgeous. Though your choice in heels would definitely make your feet sore after a night of dancing, looking good is what truly mattered. After all you were really only going to collect some dirt on any of the business men doing work with the Juliani's.
Tonight sure was going to be interesting.
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illyrian-dreamer · 4 months
Text
And Then There Were None – Part 1
Azriel/fem!reader
Synopsis: In the lead up to the war, Hybern releases a catastrophic spell that wipes out all humans, sparing just one.
Abandoned in the desolate human lands, you scavenge to survive long enough to find your family.
Reluctantly, you are found by the Shadowsinger as fate intervenes to guide you under his watchful eye.
Part 2>>>
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Word count: 3.2k
Warnings: Death, blood, suggestions of miscarriage
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Twigs snapped beneath your boots, your steps heavy with exhaustion as you stumbled through yet another town, as barren and deserted as the last one. 
Exhaustion and dehydration weighed heavy, wisps of dust caking your skirts, your boots the only thing to disturb the rubble in days. 
There was no concern for a carriage that might pull up behind, or a bossy merchant to yell at you to clear the path. While the ghosts of the life that once flourished echoed in closed shops and abandoned stalls, you stopped looking over your back days ago.
There were no plumes of smoke from chimneys, no distant chatter or laughter or cries. Safe from the occasional grunts or mews of abandoned cattle - there was not a single sign of life, and no human in sight for the past ten days.
A jarring cramp ripped from your abdomen, pulling you from delirium with urgency.
Water, food, bathe and sleep. That was why you were here.
You tried not to think about how quickly resources were depleting, even though you were sure you were the only one using them. Without people to treat water, the stagnant liquid became increasingly dangerous. And you couldn’t farm a vegetable to save your life, and had spent too long journeying to have tended to any crops.
You’d have to go further into the woods soon, find a fresh stream, perhaps hunt too. But you'd need strength for that, and you had just about run out.
At least it was spring, and at least the trees bloomed with fruit as you travelled from town to town, feet blistered and chapped. You cursed you parents for not teaching you formidable survival skills - fighting, hunting, even the ability to ride a gods damned horse would have been an incomparable luxury these past hellish days. 
A clang of guilt, and frustration quickly churned to longing. Gods, you hoped they were alive. You would do anything to have them here, to journey this devastating isolation together, the little ones too. You prayed to the Mother for the umpteenth time that day that they were safe and well. 
It was not a concern when you woke to an empty house almost a fortnight earlier. Your father was likely at the market, your mother hard at work at the tailor in town. Your siblings were hard to catch at this time of year, with school out of term and the warm spring air, they would spend each waking moment by the river if your parents let them. 
It wasn't until you spotted your fathers wheelbarrow through the speckled glass of your kitchen window, held by rotting wood. Empty and unmoved, his tools lay flat on the ground, untouched since the day before. You could have sworn he told you he’d be at the market by dawn. 
Scanning the room, your eyes flicked to the doorway where your mothers workbag lay untouched. Needles sat poked in balls of yarn as stray thread sprawled over leather - but an eery stillness sang to you at your parent’s tools. 
Names and calls went unanswered, and after a quick search of the home you ran outside, urgent to ask your neighbours where they had gone, your heart fastening with every step.
Too frantic to observe the lack of movement and noise from your own street, you rapped on the door, waiting only a few seconds to push the rattling screen and forcing your way in.
Names went unanswered again, and it was instinct that steered you straight for the nursery. You halted at the sight of new born's empty crib, blankets rippled as if the babe was taken straight from it’s sleep.
Your calls turned frantic as you scoured each room, an upsetting, looming sensation creeping over your skin.
Bursting from the home, you shielded your eyes from the bright sun as you scanned the street with urgency. Your only greeting was a quiet breeze and snort of a horse left abandoned by a cart - as if it had stopped it's journey halfway through.
In a panicked haze, you searched the next home, and the next, and the next. The dizziness found you then. 
Clearly there was an emergency of some kind. But you had been abandoned, left to sleep until midday amongst the quiet. The thought pained you.
More calls to anyone who might have stayed behind, yet still no answer. Your heart was a thunder in your ears. 
Had the war finally reached you? Had your family fled in the dead of the night? You shook the thought from your head – they would have woken you, would have needed your help to escape with the youngens.
And then you were running – yelling, sprinting through the dusty streets, voice breaking as you dashed from home to home, shop to shop, calling, crying, pleading.
You were utterly alone. You had been left there, alone. 
In a swarm of panic, you pressed a palm at your heart, willing yourself to calm. It was a dream, surely. You were not abandoned, only stuck in a nightmare, the kind that often found you as murmurs of Hybern’s army reaching human lands became louder. 
In that dizzying thought, you willed yourself awake, forcing your eyes open to the walls of your dark and cramped room, to the noises as your siblings shouting and playing from downstairs, to the whistle of the kettle and the creak of the wood as your father came to wake you.
But the light was blinding, the sun as true as the your abandonment.
Beads of sweat that ran down your neck, a gnawing anxiousness building in your stomach as it heaved and cramped, nausea and panic churning to one. 
Something truly terrible had happened.
And in that moment of utter disbelief, a stabbing pain ripped from your stomach, so great it forced a whimper from your throat. 
As silent trickles of blood ran from your thighs to your knees, tracing your calves beneath the fabric of your skirt, you found a numbing sort of courage. Pushing your legs forward, you mindlessly heeded the road out of your home town, and on to the next. 
People. You needed to find people.
————
Ten days, and still not a single sole in sight. Each home, each tavern, each market and farm left eerily untouched. 
The silence was enough to drive you mad, if not besides the aide you so desperately sought. This was not your cycle - although the pains were familiar. You had known what you were, what this was.
Almost a fortnight, yet the blood still came. Slower now, spotting instead of trickles. You had stolen clothing from abandoned shops, food and water too. But you were distraught, moments away from folding into utter madness. And you were weak – very, very weak.
Water, food, a bath and rest. A list you repeated to yourself, your body begging to prioritise sleep with every step as you approached a farm at the town’s edge.
With a weak hand, you pushed past the gate to the yard, large rusty barrels sat open where a cow and her calf now drank. The water was murky with a distinct smell, but it would have to do. Tomorrow, you’d find fresh water tomorrow.
The trembling hand that dipped to the cool water hardly looked like your own. Dirt lay thick under your nails, your skin littered with cuts from the countless times you had shattered windows of stores and traders homes, scouring the stock for preserved goods and weapons. 
Bringing the cool liquid to your lips, you ignored the taste of iron as you willed it to soothe your throat - hoarse from the endless calls that went unanswered.
Ears pricking at sudden growl behind you, you jerked at the site of a pack of dogs who approached on stealthy paws. Their eyes were hungry - flicking between you and the calf. Once loyal farming dogs you were sure, now abandoned by owners and left to fend for themselves. They had formed packs - clever things. While you were sure they couldn't kill you, you didn't have the strength to fight an infection if they got close enough to sink their teeth. 
From your side, you unsheathed the hunting knife you had looted from a previous town. Swinging it with unpracticed skill, you shouted at the pack, your heart thundering as you waited for them to recline on hindered paws and leap. 
They pack seemed to weigh you up, deciding the calf was an easier target. You fled inside the house before you could see it meet it’s end. 
The home was neat, and you almost cried at the sight of a loaf of bread sitting atop the kitchen counters. Mould had attacked it’s edges, but you tore at it, fisting mouthfuls of the centre, dry crumbs coating your throat it was an effort not to choke.
Your stomach lurched, unhappy with the quality of the food and water, but you didn't care. You were on step closer to rest.
Another jarring cramp from your stomach, and you faltered, gripping at the wooden table as you trembled to keep yourself upright. This ailment, how much longer would you last? Sleep begged at you, your body moments from giving out. You’d have to forgo the bath, and prayed to the mother you’d find the strength for it in the morning.
Forcing yourself to the bedroom, swaying with each stumbled step, consciousness was already slipping as you collapsed on the bed, clothes and boots in tact. 
————
It was a feverish sleep, your body doused in sweat as you stirred often, jolting awake in panics, phantom calls of your family mixed with the flap of wings, and the crunch of stone and rock under heavy boots.
Then a voice, voices – ones you were sure they were part of your slumber. 
But as those footsteps got closer, you woke in a startle, your heart fastened as you blinked furiously. 
Voices. Humans. People. Alive, well enough to talk. 
You leapt from the bed, ignoring the spin of your head as you clambered to the window, peering behind sheer drapes to the street in front.
Your stomach sank. Lurched. Then sank again. 
A large, demonic figure stalked for the home. Wings arched behind it’s head, it’s figure blackened by the leathers it bore, sword and knives strapped around. 
And, wisps of some kind. Deadly, reaping magic.
Fae.
Fae had come. 
Knees buckling, you stumbled back a few steps. 
The world around you reeled as adrenaline coursed through. You would have just moments to prepare if you wanted a chance to survive. 
Knife. Your hunting knife. Still strewn at your hip.
Grasping it’s hilt tightly with a trembling hand, you scanned the room for the best place to hide. 
The cupboard was too obvious, and there was room under the bed - but there’d be not enough to swing your knife, only enough for them to drag you by the ankle… 
The gentle click of the front door opening, and it took all you had not to whimper in panic.
Scrambling for the door as quietly as possible, you pressed your palm to your mouth, begging yourself not to cry as you pressed yourself behind the wood.
From what you could hear over the thunder of your heart, the steps of the fae were quiet despite it’s size. 
“Anything in there?” a deep voice boomed from the street. You jolted at the volume. More than one, then.
There was no reply from the creature in the home, only the creak of the wood as it made it’s way through. 
“Really, Azriel? Are we to check every home?” Female this time, impatience and ignorance laced in the somehow ancient voice.
No response again, instead a footstep, right by the door.
Something tickled your ankles then, and it was beyond you to stifle your compulsive scream. 
Black furling wisps coated your boots.
And then the door opened.
The creature made it one step inside before you had aimed your knife for it’s heart. 
A prepared, cool hand caught your wrist inches from it’s chest. Your bones crushing in it’s grasp, and you let out a yelp of pain. 
It’s face - his face - was one of shock. “S-sorry,” he stuttered, dropping his grip all together. 
You blinked back in shock, ignoring at the throb of your wrist as you snatched it back. 
For a dumb moment, you stared at each other with equally wide eyes. The male didn't seem to know what to do. 
“You’re human? How are you here, where-?"
The males sentence was clipped short as you drove the knife towards his chest again. 
Quick as an asp, he caught you by the forearm this time, more gently too. 
Hazel eyes scanned you, his features schooling as he called over his shoulder. “I’ve found someone.”
You were sure you looked mad, grunting with the effort to pull your arm from him, breaths ragged, eyes and hair wild. The male studied you as he might a rabid animal. 
Behind him appeared an even taller male, his form more terrifying than the one that gripped you. 
“Mother above,” the new one whispered, scanning you in the way the first one had. 
“L-let go of me,” you rasped, pulling your arm back, tears stinging at the pain of you surely broken wrist began to swell. 
It was a odd detail to note, the scars and ripples of the fae’s hand as he gently unfurled your fingers, prying the hunting knife from you before releasing his grip. 
“Let me see,” the female’s voice piped from behind, the males struggling to fold their wings further, cramming into the room to let her through. 
You faltered back on instinct, legs hitting the edge of the bed. 
As the female broke through the males, harsh silver eyes scanned you up and down. She was half their height, a little shorter than you actually, but the depth of her gaze kept your hands by your side.
“Seems the Mother has spared one after all,” she muttered, nose crumpling at your scent. 
Your answered with a scowl. 
“What is your name?” it demanded. 
“Amren,” the taller male warned, his eyes flicking back to you with softness. 
You refused to answer. Couldn’t if you wanted to. 
Amren sighed, casting her head sideways to the one with rippled hands. “She bleeds.”
“I know,” he answered, hazel eyes not breaking from you. You blushed, furious and humiliated. 
He stepped around her then, the movement graceful and soft despite his size. 
“You need aide.”
You gulped, unable to process his words. “L-leave me be,” you demanded, voice hoarse as you tried to create more distance between you and it. 
He crouched in front of you then, leathers stretching against ripples of muscle. You noticed them then, jewels, saphires, humming from his body as if they were alive.
He followed your eyes curiously, before answering you with a soft smile. 
“These are siphons,” he said plainly, giving one a friendly tap. 
You snapped your eyes back to him, disgust forming your features. “You are here on behalf of Hybern?”
The female snorted from behind, earning a shove from the larger male beside her, his siphons glowing red.
The one in front of you studied you. “No, absolutely not.” 
You scowled, not inclined to believe them. 
“We come one behalf of our High Lord Rhysand, and High Lady Feyre. Rulers of the Night Court. Do you know of them?”
Feyre - the human women who had freed the fae from the grasp of their enemy. You knew the story, the heroic tale of a human women who gave her life for the male she loved. Had heard of her triumphs Under the Mountain, that she had been made into fae herself in exchange for her sacrifice. 
“The-the curse breaker?”
A small smile cocked on both of the males faces. 
“That’s right,” the one crouched in front answered. “She sent us to retrieve you.”
A panic surged within you. “Me?” you spat. Oh the ignorance of the fae, as if you were some pawn to pluck and place elsewhere. 
Azriel frowned, eyes dancing as he realised the mistake in his words. “To help you, of course. There has been-"
"No-n-no. My family, they will seek for me-"
Azriel's brow pulled with softness, his tone falling flat. "We will search for them. Meanwhile, you must see a-"
“Where are the others?” Your voice was louder now, eyes dancing in panic, chest rising with fastening breaths. Had they taken them too? “The people, they've left, I don't know-"
“We are searching for others. You are… the first we have found.”
Your mind reeled. How could that be? You had searched by foot - but with those wings, and the strength and power of fae…
“WHAT HAS HAPPENED TO THE OTHER HUMANS?” the volume of your voice shocked even yourself, that strength, that demand from deep within your chest. 
Azriel gave you a pained look, before standing to turn to his counterparts. “Amren, can you heal-?”
“I’m spent,” she cut off the male with a flick of her fingers. “Those canines out back were hardly enough to keep me going until sundown, so forget about healing. Unless you suggest I drink her blood, though I doubt she’d survive.”
Mother above.
You were too hazed to see the glare both of the males cut her.
“Then she will need to see a healer before we can continue.”
“She might refuse,” the larger one countered. 
“If she’s smart, she won’t. She won't survive out here on her own,” Amren muttered, cleaning her nails as she leaned one on leg, checking her cat-like claws for flecks of blood. 
They continued their mutter without once turning to you.
“There is no option here. I’ll take her to Velaris, and return once she’s safe.”
A shaking, blubbering anger grew within you, the creatures in front of you as ignorant and obnoxious as you had always been told fae are – to discuss your own fate as if you weren't in the room.
A killer instinct flared in you then, and you remembered the second knife you bore, hidden within your corsette. A pocket knife, a tool from your father to help pit and peel the fruit from his farm. 
The oak handle was cool in your left hand, the right throbbing and limp. With the last remains of energy,  you pushed up from the bed, swinging with all your strength - aiming for the blue-siphoned back. 
In a graceful turn, the male caught your arm for the third time. You had to blink at the speed with which he stopped you. 
Bracing for cruel, unforgiving anger, you were instead met with sympathetic eyes. 
Loathing coiled within you. 
“Release me,” you spat.
“I’m sorry to do this,” was all he said, and then pads of those rippled fingers were grasping your jaw, pressing to the pressure points of your neck with precision. 
Grunting to fight his grasp, you didn’t struggle long before a ringing in your ear grew to defeating silence and the world tipped to black. 
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Part 2 >>> AN: HELLLOOO! And welcome to ATTWN - massive shout out to @kindasleepywriter for finding the perfect name for this series! I so so hoped you liked part 1. I edited it like a million times, still not 100% happy with it, but I think I just needed to get it out. Fair warning - this fic won't be light hearted, our reader is going to go through some really heavy stuff. I'll of course put my warnings ahead of each part, but please know I plan to explore some darker themes surrounding mental health etc. If you'd like to join the tag list for this fic, let me know in the comments! Always love hearing your feedback, and thank you so much for reading! <3 Nic
691 notes · View notes
wellpresseddaisy · 1 year
Text
But with the Dawn, a New Day is Born pt 2
Something creaked in the dark of the cupboard.
No. Nonononono
Harry came round slowly, trying not to groan. Why did it always hurt?
Why the cupboard? Why would they do this?
He couldn’t bear it
The creak came again and his breath caught in his throat. He knew, he just knew there wouldn’t be any light. He couldn’t even hear the low hum of electricity about, like he could when they took his bulb but left the socket on.
Another creak and his heart thumped painfully in his chest, terror clawing at him. What was it?
What was it and why was he back in the cupboard?
“Harry?” He nearly shrieked at Hermione’s voice, a near whisper in the dark.
“Harry, please, are you awake? He…he threw you back in and I tried to…dittany…please?”
“Hermione?” he croaked back. “How long?”
His voice sounded so high to his own ears.
“Two days you've been out. He…he took you two days ago. I couldn’t see what he did to you, I…”
“I…I have no idea what…” No, he did know. “Our letters came. He was angry because our letters came.”
The memories swirled together—Uncle Vernon and Uncle Eustace, Aunt Petunia, that cupboard and this one, the day six years ago that Eustace took over—until his head ached even more fiercely.
“He knows it’ll be over soon. Harry, what did he do?” Hermione scrabbled around in the dark until she found his hand.
“What he always does.” Harry found his voice shaking. “Made me bear his rage at not being the heir.”
Hermione gave his hand a gentle squeeze.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know why he won’t…”
“You aren’t standing between him and everything he ever wanted.”  Harry stopped her. “And here…he gave you those scars.”
Mudblood, carved into her arm for the crime of being born to a half-blood mother.
“He’s mad, Harry. He’s got to be. Do you think we’ll really get away?” Her voice sounded so small in the dark.
He knew that smallness. Knew how the dark smothered all hope.
“He wouldn’t have been so angry otherwise.” Harry made himself sound more sure than he was. “And it’s changed this week, the tapping on the door. It isn’t different unless they’re going to try something.”
“I know. I just…after Robin I don’t know if I want them to. We still don’t know if…”
“We don’t. Others might. And…and Mrs. Colfer would tell us that it was her job to worry, not ours.” Only he couldn’t shake the constant, niggling feeling of something gone terribly wrong.
“Is this…is this how it was for you…before?” she asked hesitantly.
“I usually had light. And they didn’t…they really didn’t want to touch me. Making me play house elf like he does sometimes is more like how it was.” He made himself tell her.
What had they said in the after? That he would have to feel all the feelings he’d shoved down? Were all of them anxiety and terror? Surely he’d experienced feelings like calm and happiness on occasion?
“I…I know it’s selfish, but I’m happy we aren’t all of us alone.” Hermione squeezed his hand again.
“It’s worse in the dark alone.” Harry agreed. “Just…just hold on to soon, Hermione.”
“When we were…before. I should have asked you. I thought something was wrong and I should have asked.”
“I’d have lied.” Harry admitted, and let Hermione shift them about in the small space until he rested against her. “I couldn’t bear anyone knowing. People…Hermione, people are going to know.”
“And so what if they do?” Hermione asked. “We haven’t done anything wrong.”
“It’ll be in the papers. Everyone…they’ll pity us.”
“That’s their problem. People can think what they like. They don’t know us and they don’t know what this is like.” She brushed a hand over his hair.
“I…I don’t know how much help I’m going to be…outside.” Harry admitted. “They said I’d have to…to deal with all the feelings I’d ignored before. Hermione…they all seem to be flat terror. I don’t want to go to pieces.”
“You won’t. I know you and you won’t. We’re going to get out of here and it will be fine. Maybe…maybe not immediately, but it will be.”
Harry wished he had even a quarter of her certainty.
“I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop myself. Even the thought of…of being out of here forever, it’s terrifying. Not knowing what to expect, how to behave…”
“That’s easily remedied. Harry, I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise. I’m your big sister, you know.”
“You’re three minutes older, Hermione.”
“Yes, which is why I’m always right.” She sounded incredibly pleased with herself “We should try to sleep a little. I think it’s nighttime.”
There wasn’t any point in arguing with Hermione when she sounded like that. Harry settled as best he could and closed his eyes. Maybe something would change tomorrow.
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shapard · 3 months
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Albino Snake🐍
Lucifer x Human!fem!reader
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Alastor kinda reminds me of Dr. Facilier
A/n: I want to cry. I accidentally posted this🥲
You found a cute little albino snake. You named him Apple.
Soft Lucifer
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Part 1 > Part 2
You love your home New Orleans.
The streets are filled with jazz and Happy people dancing around. It brought a smile up of your face.
It’s been so long when the streets were this filled. A big number of murders started to rise in New Orleans. Everybody stayed at home, especially you. 
News spread quickly that the Series Killer got killed by a hunter. The Hunter thought he was a deer and gave him a shot right in the middle of his skull.
The days that were cold and dull started to gain color again. And your live just became more stressful. 
Back to two jobs and a small apartment.
You worked in two Restaurants only to fulfill your dream. You want to live that dream you and you father talked about from morning to dawn. Sadly, he’ll not be able to see you reach this dream.
You’re almost there, just a couple more shifts. Just a few weeks of hard work.
You groaned when your alarm clock started ringing in your ear. Exhausted you pressed your hand onto the alarm.
You yawned and stretched your body; a small cracking sound emits from your bone, and you sigh in relief. 
“Next shift here I come!” 
As usual people side eyed you when you past them with a tray of food. Working in gastronomy is hard.
Terrible chef, terrible co-workers and even worse the customers. Your chief always tormented you that you'll never reach that dream. That it was useless. You are born poor and you stay poor, especially for a woman.
But that never lets you down. Then you'll be the first woman who'll reach the top without marrying off to a rich man.
The ring bell tuned, and your rich friend Charlotte and her father walked happily into the small business.
Charlotte smiled brightly at you when she saw you. “Y/n! There you are! I have an important question to ask you.” You laughed softly at her antics. she always was always so outgoing and a bright soul. 
“Of course.” Charlotte squealed and was quick to grab her father's purse. “Do you think you can make some beignets? You’ll get paid off, of course.” Without even waiting for your answer, she pushed couple hundred dollars into your chest and ran out of the store without even touching the beignets. 
Charlotte already paid and it wasn't rare that this happens. All your attention was now on the money in your hand. 
With this money it’s more than enough to buy the restaurant you and your father always dreamed about.
Soft tears pearled down on your face and your boss mouth was wide open in shock. “Huh… Wait… WHAT?!” 
When you shift was done you were quick to make a visit to the former sugar farmhouse.
The house was pretty worn down but that didn’t hold you back. You swung around the house humming a soft tune as you imagined how the place will look in the future.
"I'm almost there~..."
A soft clink echoed through the hollow place, bringing you back to reality. Scared you looked around you. Maybe a mouse?
Following the clinking sound, you saw a small snake hurt in a water cup. The snake looked up to you with soft red eyes. The white scales reminded you of pure untouched snow.
The snake was probably an albino. 
You spread out your hand and took the little injured creator in your hand. Your heart swelled when the little snake slithered up to your wrist embracing it softly.
Its red eyes never left yours and you patted his head slightly. 
The Snake watches as you walked stressed out up and down through your little room. A small bandage adorned its little tummy and a small bow tie was around his head. 
To say he was embarrassed was an understatement. But the way how happy you applied the little bowtie on his head was giving him pure joy. So, he didn't protest.
When you finally looked at the small clock that was on your room wall you gasp at the time. You grabbed your little purse and the beignets for the little costume party.
Theme: Kingdom.
The snake you named apple slithered up to your neck. It looked like a designer necklace, and you loved it. 
You stood unmoving in one of the stands from the party. The landlord of the place where you found him was informing you that someone pays way more than you do.
Your whole body feels like it's going to crumble. You were so close to that dream. You were so close to making your father proud.
All those years for nothing?
Apple looked up to you and he saw the face of pure despair and sadness. His heart broke when you ran towards the landlord in despair. Tears were pouring down your face as you shouted the landlord’s name. 
You were close to a panic attack. Apple rested softly on your neck like a scarf. He tried to comfort you in any way.
A woman with a wine glass in her hand accidentally pours the wine onto your dress and Apple hissed at the sudden wetness.
When you turned to look for the landlord he was nowhere to be found. And for the first time you really felt defeated.
Your legs under you gave up and everything around you started to mix in one black hole.
Charlotte hugged you from behind when she saw your broken state. Charlotte dragged you along with her when she looked at the damage on your dress. 
She gave you a new dress your mother had designed for her.
A gorgeous flowing dress that beats every physics. A little Tiana was on your head and the color matched perfect with your skin color. 
Apple watched with an immense blush on his scales.
You look so pretty in this dress. 
You plumped softly onto the bed where apple was laying. He laid under your chin cuddling into your heat. "Oh Apple. I don't know what to do." You whined as soon as those words left you.
“I can help.” As soon as you heard Apple talk you shot up, falling with full force onto the hard floor. 
Red mist covered the whole room and in front of you stood a man with white skin, red eyes and royalty looking clothes.
His smirk was large, and he held an apple cane in one of his hand. “Do you trust me princess?”
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A/n: I'm obsessed with Tyla's new album.
💫
@i-have-no-life-charlie @sirenetheblogger @concentratedconcrete
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mononijikayu · 19 days
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“i canʼt hold enough of you in my hands.” — gojo satoru.
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His little fingers peeked out from the blanket, and you couldn’t resist the urge to gently stroke them, feeling their soft warmth. You looked at your husband, who let out a little laugh as you showed him your son’s little chubby fingers. There was much to love about your little dawn. If life had ever begun, it would be when your son was born. And Satoru believed that as much as you did — that’s for sure.
GENRE: post hidden - inventory arc (2010s)
WARNING/S: domesticity, fluff, family, comfort, angst, trauma, implied death, violence, romance, hurt/comfort, character death depiction of death, depictions of loss and depression, mention of pregnancy, depiction of the aftermath of birth, depiction of parenthood, depiction of blood, depiction of killing, depiction of suffering, depiction of anxiety, mention of death, mention of grief, profanity, family drama;
LISTEN: l'amore dice ciao (slow take) by armando trovajoli
NOTE: i knew i said i wasn't going to write more, but i ended up writing this because i ended the other one so sadly that i realized i needed something that was genuinely happy. so i did that. i'll be writing more within the next eleven days. but we'll see, depending on my schedule!!! i love you!!! enjoy <3
masterlist
u s and t h e m
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IT WAS QUITE AN EXPERIENCE, BRINGING HOME A BABY IN YOUR HUMBLE ABODE. You had never expected to be so overprotective over anything in your entire life, especially not on a simple car ride. But here you were, cradling your most precious treasure in your arms, heart pounding with a mix of anxiety and overwhelming love. Your newborn son, Satoshi, nestled against your chest, was the very embodiment of fragility and new beginnings.
The car ride from the hospital to your home felt like an eternity. Every bump in the road, every sudden stop or start, sent a jolt of worry through you. You tightened your hold on Satoshi, making sure his tiny head was well-supported, his small body swaddled snugly in a soft blanket. The world outside seemed too chaotic, too unpredictable for someone so small and innocent.
Beside you, your husband, Gojo Satoru sat with his bright blue eyes fixed lovingly on the little bundle in your arms. His usual carefree demeanor was replaced by a focused intensity, every bit the protective father. 
He kept glancing between you, sleeping Satoshi, the road ahead, and Ichiji who seemed more tense than usual. Satoru’s tension could be felt from that far, you suppose. But you can’t fault your husband at all. His hand occasionally reaches over to rest reassuringly on your knee, as though it was to calm him and you simultaneously. 
“Are you okay, darling?” he asked softly, his voice a gentle caress.
You nodded, but the anxiety still lingered. “I’m just… it’s so surreal. He’s so tiny, so perfect. I want to make sure everything is perfect for him.”
Satoru’s cerulean eyes softened, and he reached over to brush a strand of hair from your face. “You’re already doing an amazing job. He’s lucky to have you as his mama, darling.”
Satoshi stirred slightly, making a small cooing sound that melted your heart. You looked down at his tiny face, marveling at his delicate features. He looked exactly like Satoru, that’s what his mother said. And you could definitely see it. His small mouth quirked joyously the way his father does. His white–silver locks were as tender and soft as Satoru's own. His chubby cheeks were warm too. And you were so in love. So entirely absorbed by your love for your son. 
His little fingers peeked out from the blanket, and you couldn’t resist the urge to gently stroke them, feeling their soft warmth. You looked at your husband, who let out a little laugh as you showed him your son’s little chubby fingers. There was much to love about your little dawn. If life had ever begun, it would be when your son was born. And Satoru believed that as much as you did — that’s for sure. 
The car pulled into the driveway of your little home, and Satoru quickly got out to open the door for you. He extended his hand to help you out, his touch steadying you as you carefully stepped onto the pavement. You whisper a thankful retort to your husband, who grinned at you and turned to Ichiji, who nearly jumped when Satoru thanked him genuinely. 
Satoru led the way as you walked into your home, his six-eyes trying to check for any changes in the house. When you both got in, it seemed safe enough but then again, Satoru led you to the nursery. Every inch of the nursery was built by your husband. He was excited about trying to make it as bright as possible, as colorful as possible and he had meticulously prepared in the weeks leading up to Satoshi’s birth. 
The quaint little room was better than you could have imagined it. Satoru had not wanted to show you anything until the baby arrived. It was a surprise for both you and your little boy. It was just a perfect little haven of soft pastels and gentle light. You were impressed with how it all blended together, how he had managed to put everything into a theme. But you knew that’s just how much your husband loves your son. Looking at him, you wondered how much more you could love this man, how much more love your heart can take for him.
“Did you do everything from scratch?” You whispered to him, mindful of your little boy. 
He hummed in reply. “But it’s not just me. ‘miki and ‘gumi both helped, y’know? I couldn’t have done it without them!”
You smiled when you heard that. When you told the two that you were expecting, it was a whirlwind.  Tsumiki was jumping up in joy, Megumi seemed stunned that there was to be a baby. You didn't expect Megumi to have a loud reaction, he was always more quiet. But you knew that overtime, he was just as excited as his elder sister. He showed that through his little acts, like asking about the baby, asking if you both needed anything. He was tender like that.
You wouldn’t say that your pregnancy was a dream. It was hard. You were nauseated all the time, you were crying day and night, you couldn’t keep food down. But your two little ones did what they could to help you out. Megumi knew that you couldn’t eat much, but he would make sure there was already hot tea and some slices of fruit you can eat for you to enjoy in the mornings.
Tsumiki made sure that she helped you out with some small tasks Satoru allowed you to do, that she could embrace you when you feel like crying about some little things. They were both wonderful with you throughout the pregnancy, they’ve always been wonderful to you since you met them. 
At this moment, you wanted to see them both. And you were sure they’d like to see you and the little one. But you knew that they won’t arrive until tomorrow. You were thankful that your mother took Megumi and Tsumiki with her until you could come home from the hospital.
You gently laid little Satoshi in his crib, tucking the blanket around him. Satoru stood beside you, his arm wrapped around your waist carefully. He lets out a small sigh as both of you watch as your son settles into his new environment. The room seemed to glow with a serene tranquility, the weight of the world momentarily lifted.
“He’s perfect, isn’t he?” Satoru whispered, his voice filled with awe.
You leaned against him, feeling the steady beat of his heart. “He is. And he’s ours.”
“Hm, he’ll always be.” He agrees, his hand tracing across the small of your back. “The kids will love him, I’m pretty sure.”
“Tsumiki will just gobble him up.” You laughed softly.
“And Megumi’s gonna be a bit flustered, ‘m sure.”
“Hey, he’s just a little shy! He’s trying.”
Satoru kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering as if trying to imprint the moment in his memory. “Hm, he is.”
“Thank you.” 
“What for, darling?”
You smile at him. “For giving me this lovely little life.”
He laughs, pressing a kiss against your shoulder. “Darling, if anything, I should be the one saying that, hm?”
“I love you.” You whispered against him, letting your hand trail against his free hand. “Genuinely.”
“Love you too, very much.” He squeezes your hand back. “All four of you. We’re going to be okay, darling.”
Tears welled up in your eyes, a mixture of happiness and the sheer weight of the responsibility ahead. “I know. ‘cause we have each other.”
He smiles. ”Nothing better than that.”
As you stood there, watching over your son, you felt a profound sense of completeness. The future held many uncertainties, but this moment was perfect. Surrounded by the love of your husband and the new life you had brought into the world, you knew that together, you could face anything.
Satoru’s hand found yours, squeezing gently. “Welcome home, my little dawn.” he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. “This is just the beginning.”
You nodded, resting your head against Satoru’s shoulder, feeling the warmth of his love envelop you. In that small, serene nursery, surrounded by the promise of new beginnings, you felt a deep and abiding peace. 
This was your peace.
This was your home.
And this was your future. 
You were truly content now.
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SOMEHOW, ADJUSTING WAS QUITE A WORD TO LEARN. Life as new parents to your little boy, Satoshi, was a whirlwind of joy, exhaustion, and moments that you knew would become cherished memories. And though it was hard most days, stressful even — you both would not trade it for anything else.
Gojo Satoru, ever the dedicated father, decided to take paternity leave, putting his duties aside to focus on his growing family.  He didn’t care about what the higher ups were going to say about it.  He just sent a phone call, turned off his phone and left them to deal with the situation until he could come back. He was not going to let any sense of his duty ruin his first glimpses as a father.
The decision brought a new level of warmth and connection to your home, a sanctuary away from the chaos of the world outside. It was more common now to see Gojo Satoru standing by the kitchen at two in the morning, trying to warm up frozen breast milk or being up and about by seven to make Megumi and Tsumiki’s bento boxes and see them off to school.
Satoru’s presence was a source of comfort and strength postpartum. He refused to let you raise a finger while he was in the house. You were still healing from the birth, he said. The best thing for you is to enjoy your relaxation and rest, while he does his part. It’s the smallest thing, he says to you as he gives you your breakfast that morning, there’s nothing to worry about. 
Most nights, when he lets you go to sleep as much as you can — you end up waking up to walk towards the bathroom to pee and you would see him, sitting in the living room. You would stand there, watching him as he finds himself cradling Satoshi, whispering sweet words of love and promises for the future. His cerulean eyes, usually so full of mischief, softened with a tenderness that melted your heart each time you saw him with your son.
You couldn’t help but enjoy seeing him so domesticated, to be at such a peace with himself, with his life. This was such a far cry from the Gojo Satoru you had known in your youths. And it was so beautiful, how genuinely graceful he had adapted to his new life. He was always there, with a gentle touch and a reassuring smile, ready to do what he had to for your comfort. 
“He’s just so small!” Tsumiki gushed, looking at the baby and then at you and Satoru. Her smile was from ear to ear. “Satoru-san, he looks exactly like you!”
Satoru laughed softly, a sound filled with pride and joy. “Hm, doesn’t he? He was born on my birthday too! My precious little ‘toshi.”
You chuckled, feeling the warmth of the moment. “Yes, he does. But look closer, Tsumiki. He’s got my nose and my stubborn streak already.”
Tsumiki leaned in, examining Satoshi’s tiny features with a thoughtful expression. “Oh, you’re right! I can see it now. He’s a perfect mix of both of you.” She looked up, her eyes sparkling. “He’s going to be so loved.”
Megumi, standing a bit shyly to the side,  as he looked at you and nodded. “Yeah, he is.” He stepped closer, peering at Satoshi with a mixture of curiosity and affection. “Welcome home….Satoshi.”
Megumi and Tsumiki were adjusting well to having a baby around the house. Satoru teased them both about being Satoshi’s elder siblings often, Tsumiki was gleeful and Megumi was always bashful. It was so lovely to watch. The house became more livelier than ever before.
You always noted that Tsumiki was a natural caregiver, always ready to lend  a hand with diaper changes or soothing Satoshi when he was fussy. You and Satoru often told her that she didn’t have to, but she insists that she wants to  spend time with him. She adored him, her nurturing nature shining through in every interaction.
Megumi, on the other hand, was more reserved. Shy about expressing his love for Satoshi with words, he found other ways to show his affection. He would sit quietly by Satoshi’s crib, reading aloud from his favorite books, or he’d be the first to arrive when Satoshi’s cries echoed through the house, ready to offer a pacifier or a comforting touch.
Satoru reached out, ruffling Megumi’s hair gently. “You’re going to be good to him, hm? Aren’t you, Megumi? I’m counting on you to help keep an eye on him when I’m not around, ‘kay?”
Megumi’s cheeks flushed slightly, but he nodded with determination. “I will.”
You felt a wave of gratitude and love for your makeshift family, the bonds between all of you growing stronger with each passing moment. “Of course we will.” you said softly, looking at each of them in turn. “We’re going to take care of each other, always.”
Tsumiki smiled warmly. “I’m so happy. It’s like our family keeps growing, and it’s just... perfect.”
Satoru pulled both Tsumiki and Megumi into a gentle hug, careful not to jostle Satoshi in your arms. “We’re a team, always remember!” he said, his voice filled with conviction. “No matter what, we stick together.”
“Of course!” Tsumiki cheered in reply.
Satoru looked at Megumi, pulling him closer. “What about you, ‘gumi? We’re all in this together!”
Megumi flustered, trying to shove your husband. “Ugh, stop—”
“Ehhhh! Just say it once, come on now!”
“I don’t wanna!”
“Megumi, come on! Satoru–san has a point!”
“I still don’t want to!”
As you watched this heartfelt moment, your heart swelled with emotion. The little ones have had quite a rough life, you knew that much. But to know that they have a home here, that they were happy here. The love and unity in your heart for your little home were palpable. Despite the challenges ahead, all the things you may never know — you knew that with your husband and the kids, you’ll always be fine.
Satoshi stirred slightly, his tiny hand reaching out as if sensing the warmth and love around him. You gently kissed his forehead, whispering softly, “See, Satoshi? You’re so loved by everyone, you know?”
Satoru glanced at you, his eyes shimmering with unabashed joy. “We’re going to give him the best life, darling. I promise you that.”
You smiled, feeling a deep sense of peace and contentment. “I know we will. Together.”
The gentle hum of life outside seemed to pause in reverence for the precious moment unfolding within your home. Satoshi nestled peacefully in your arms, his tiny fingers curling and uncurling as if grasping at the very fabric of love that surrounded him. The soft murmur of your family’s voices filled the air, a symphony of warmth that your little boy seems to be so in love with.
“Hey... can I hold him?” Megumi asked, his voice hesitant but hopeful.
You turned to Megumi, seeing the earnestness in his eyes. This was a big step for him, wanting to connect with his new brother in such a tangible way. You looked at Satoru, who was grinning. You smiled and nodded.
Satoru’s smile was warm and encouraging. “Of course, Megumi. Just be gentle, hm? He’s still too small, after all.”
With careful movements, You carefully handed Satoshi over to Megumi. The young boy’s face lit up with a rare, genuine smile as he cradled the little bundle in his arms. Satoshi, sensing the familiar presence, settled almost immediately, his tiny hand reaching up to grasp Megumi’s finger.
Satoru wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “Look at them.” he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. “We’re really doing this.”
You leaned into Satoru, your heart swelling with love for your family. “Yes, we are, aren't we?" you replied softly. “And it’s perfect.”
Megumi looked up, his expression one of pure wonder. “He’s so small.” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “But he’s... perfect.”
“You’re doing great, Megumi,” you whispered, your heart swelling with pride.
Tsumiki joined you, her eyes shining with happiness. “He loves you, Megumi. You’re such a good big brother to him already."
“....am not his big brother.” he says shyly, scarlet blush across his face. 
“Nah, you are.” Satoru whispers at him, smiling as he pats Megumi’s hair. “You will always be his big brother, okay?”
You giggled. “And he’s happy about it too. He’s happy to be carried by his big brother Megumi.”
Megumi’s cheeks turned pink, but he didn’t look away from Satoshi. “I just….. want him to be happy.” he murmured, his voice barely audible.
Satoru wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “He’s happy because he’s surrounded by love.” he said softly, his eyes meeting yours. “And because he has the best siblings in the world caring for him.”
You smiled at him, so full of love.
“I love you, all of you, my love.”
Cerulean eyes looked at you, tenderly.
“I love you too, darling. So so much.”
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epilogue
One afternoon, you found Satoru in the kitchen, attempting to bake cookies with Tsumiki. Flour dusted his hair and apron, and Tsumiki giggled as she helped mix the dough. The sight was a blend of chaotic mess and heartwarming sweetness.
“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” you teased, leaning against the doorway with Satoshi nestled in your arms. The smell of burnt sugar was already wafting through the air, a clear indicator that things might not be going as planned.
Satoru flashed you a mischievous grin, his blue eyes sparkling with playful defiance. “I’m a man of many talents, darling. Baking just happens to be one of them.” He tried to flick flour at you, but it mostly ended up on Tsumiki, who erupted into fits of laughter.
“Yeah, sure.” you said, laughing as you shook your head. “I think you might need to add ‘kitchen disaster’ to your list of talents.”
Just then, Megumi walked in, drawn by the noise and commotion. He took one look at the flour-covered Satoru and the batter-splattered Tsumiki and rolled his eyes. 
“You’re making a mess.” he said dryly, though there was a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “We could just buy cookies from the local bakery.”
“Come on, Megumi!” Satoru called out, waving a dough-covered hand. “Join the fun! We’re making memories here!”
“Satoru–san’s right, Megumi!” Tsumiki says, giggling as she plays with the batter. “Come on!”
Megumi looks at you and you laugh, nodding. “Go on. It’s not that bad. If anything, we can clean it up. It’s okay.”
Reluctantly, Megumi sighed and pursed his lips. He slowly grabbed an apron  from the hook and joined in, his serious demeanor softening as he started to help. Slowly, the kitchen started to be filled with laughter and playful teasing, a symphony of familial love.
When the cookies finally came out of the oven, they were slightly burnt and oddly shaped. Satoru picked one up, examining it critically before taking a big bite. “Mmm, just like I remember from years ago.” he said with a straight face, making everyone laugh. “Didn’t you use to make us bake after missions?”
“Yes, but it did not look like that.” You smiled at him. “We could make new ones, if you want?”
“Yeah, let’s make one that’s digestible.” Megumi says as he started using the cookie cutters on his batter.
“Hey! They are perfectly digestible.”
“I don’t know, my love.” You tout as you looked at him teasingly, “It doesn’t seem to be good right now.”
“Oh just you wait, I’ll make another batch!” He says, almost determined to prove you wrong. “‘miki! Get more flour and butter! I’ll get the eggs!”
“I’m on it, Satoru–san!”
“Satoru, be careful, don’t run!”
“But I gotta get it done soon!”
“This isn’t masterchef, don’t rush!”
In the end, your husband made a more pleasant looking batter — but it was because you were making sure to watch everything as you cradled your little son in your arms. Megumi didn't need anything else but praise when it came to his cookies. They looked so round and perfectly golden. Tsumiki’s own batch was also pretty, she added pink sprinkles in her batter which made it more bright. 
When all the dishes were taken care of, the cookies were left to cool. Megumi prepared both of you a cup of black coffee, while Tsumiki plated the rest. Satoru whistled as he settled everything away where it belonged. 
"These cookies are... interesting," Megumi remarked, taking a hesitant bite.
Tsumiki giggled, nudging him playfully. "They're not that bad, Megumi. It's the thought that counts, right?"
Satoru leaned back in his chair, a satisfied grin on his face. "Exactly! Besides, the company is what makes them taste good." He ruffled Megumi's hair, earning a good-natured eye roll from the boy.
You smiled, feeling a deep sense of contentment. "I have to agree with Satoru on this one. Being together makes everything better."
Satoshi, sitting in his high chair with a cookie of his own, babbled happily, bits of cookie smeared around his mouth. His bright eyes sparkled with joy as he looked around at his family.
"Satoru-san, can we make more cookies tomorrow?" Tsumiki asked, her eyes wide with excitement.
Satoru chuckled, wiping a smudge of flour from his cheek. "We'll see, Tsumiki. Maybe we'll try making something else. How about a cake?"
"Yeah!" Tsumiki cheered happily with infectious excitement.
Megumi looked thoughtful for a moment before speaking up. "Can we make a chocolate cake?"
"Chocolate cake it is," you agreed, laughing at the enthusiasm of your children. "But maybe we should let Satoru handle the mixing next time."
Satoru feigned offense, placing a hand over his heart dramatically. "Hey, I think I did a pretty good job! Next time, I'll show you all my true baking skills."
"Sure, sure," you teased, leaning over to kiss his cheek. "We'll hold you to that, Mr. Talented."
The conversation flowed easily, filled with laughter and lighthearted banter. As the evening wore on, you found yourself marveling at the simple joy of being together. The challenges and uncertainties of life seemed distant, overshadowed by the love and warmth of your family.
Later that night, as you tucked Tsumiki and Megumi into bed, they both looked up at you with sleepy smiles.
"Goodnight to you, Gen-san!" Tsumiki whispered, her eyes already drooping.
"Goodnight, sweetie," you replied, brushing a kiss on her forehead. "Sleep well."
Megumi gave you a small, shy look with a blush on his cheeks. "Thanks for the cookies..... And for everything."
Your heart swelled with love as you kissed his forehead too. "You're welcome, Megumi. Sweet dreams."
Back in your bedroom, you found Satoru already lying down, Satoshi nestled in his crib nearby. You slipped into bed beside him, feeling his arms wrap around you instantly.
"Thank you for today," you whispered, resting your head on his chest.
He kissed the top of your head, his voice a soft murmur in the darkness. "Thank you, too. For everything. I wouldn’t trade this for anything in the world."
You smiled, closing your eyes as you listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "Me neither. Together, we'll make every day special."
One night, as you lay in bed with Satoru beside you and Satoshi nestled in his crib, you whispered, “Thank you for being here, Satoru. For all of us.”
He turned to you, his eyes filled with love and a hint of mischief. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else, darling. You and the children are my world.”
You smiled, feeling a deep sense of contentment. “Even if your cookies are terrible?”
He laughed softly, pulling you closer. “Even then. But don’t worry, I’ll keep practicing. One day, I’ll get it right.”
With a playful roll of your eyes, you kissed him gently. “I’m sure you will. But until then, we’ll just enjoy the burnt ones together.”
Satoru chuckled, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Sounds like a plan, my darling.”
In that moment, surrounded by the quiet hum of your sleeping children and the gentle cadence of your husband’s heartbeat, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, your family would face them together. And with Satoru’s unwavering love and determination, you were certain that your home would always be filled with laughter, warmth, and the sweetest memories.
You wanted more of Gojo Satoru.
You wanted everything of him.
You wanted more of him in this life.
You can't hold enough of him, you think.
You can't hold enough of him in your hands.
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niuniente · 5 months
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I stumbled upon a BBC recording from 1970, where two women in their 90's were interviewed about their teenage years. These women had been born in 1880's so they were in their teens in 1890's-1900's.
One woman recalled how her brother had seen this weird machine on a shop window, and women working with these machines. It was a typewriter and the place was hiring women to learn how to type with it. She also was bicycling a lot in her teens, and told a story how she once accidentally drove into a policeman. She and her friends were summoned to a court and fined 5 shillings each for this preposterous activity. The magistrate has been most horrified and disgusted that these young women hadn't been horse riding but bicycling when this collision happened!
It was amazing to hear. These women has gone such a huge jump in development of society and technologies from 1880 to 1970! I can't remember where I heard it but when we look back at time, humanity globally has advanced between 1900-2000 as much as in the previous 5000 years.
These ladies had seen the dawn of electricity; the very first electric cars and horse-pulled handsome cabs turning into busses, taxes and cars; Titanic; two world wars; suffragette movement fighting for women's rights and women getting these rights; the Wright brother's first plane and it leading to commercial flights and eventually to the moon landing; rise and falls of nations in Europe and changes on European map; the changes in workplaces and work place regulations; the development of radio; the whole history of TV; the fast changing clothing styles by each decade; the invention of plastic. They were born just 4 years after a telephone was patented in 1876.
I'm a pre-internet era child. Pre-mobile phone era child. I can recall when news told how this thing called internet is now open and how we predict it to become important. I can tell how huge difference mobile phones, emails, internet, video services, art programs etc. have done to the world. I'm every day grateful for the internet and technology because it was brought me to all I dreamed of and wanted as a child. Endless amounts of movies, comic, pictures, information, connections to everywhere in the world, exploration. Niche books and stuff I could never even see in my whole life without internet! In a need of a certain character reference? Just google it! Want to see that particular scene from a movie or a game? Go to internet, it's there!
And yet, I can never experience the same gigantic jumps as these 1890's teenagers did.
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gdmtblr · 5 months
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A Winter Dawn
Above the marge of night a star still shines,
And on the frosty hills the sombre pines
Harbor an eerie wind that crooneth low
Over the glimmering wastes of virgin snow.
Through the pale arch of orient the morn
Comes in a milk-white splendor newly-born,
A sword of crimson cuts in twain the gray
Banners of shadow hosts, and lo, the day!
-Lucy Maud Montgomery
Happy New Year, my dear friends!!
Much peace, love and joy to you all in 2024.
Warm wishes for the new glorious year :-D
(Sorry for the late New Year's greetings. I've been suffering from a persistent cold since the end of the year🤧💦 Sore throat and cough were particularly heavy and there were times when I was unable to speak…😮‍💨However, my health is finally back to normal👍🏻✨)
すっかりあけまくっておりますが(笑)遅ればせながら新年おめでとうございます。
年末にひいた風邪が数日で治ったかと思いきやまたぶり返し、そのぶり返した風邪のタチがなかなかに悪くてようやく復活できました😅インフルでもコロナでもなかったんですけど、普通の風邪もこじらせるとめちゃめちゃ厄介なものですね💦
今年もどうぞよろしくお願いいたします😊🐶🐶❤️
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=RV4bZDkh7RI
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itsswritten · 3 months
Text
when the sea calls for three | intro
Paring: Azriel x Reader x Eris
Word Count: 1.5K
Summary: In the aftermath of war, peace reigns over the realms of Prythian, but the delicate balance hangs in the hands of two unlikely mediators—You and Lucien. As the newly appointed Emissaries of Peace, your duty is clear: maintain alliances, foster understanding between courts, and navigate the intricate webs of fae politics.
But when fate deals an unexpected twist, revealing that you possess not one, but two mates, the tranquillity you've worked so hard to uphold is suddenly threatened. Caught between two males who refuse to share, you find yourself thrust into a precarious position, torn between duty and desire.
What will you do and who will you choose?
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I need you.
Those three words were all it took.
༄ 
In the soft glow of the morning light filtering through the room, flickering reflections of pinks and purples across the walls. Dawn Court had always been radiant, the sky, cobalt and rose. A sunrise all day long. You were proud to call it your home. 
You stood before the ornate mirror, fingers delicately adjusting the intricate buttons of your tunic. 
The decision to choose neutral clothing had been yours, a deliberate choice born from the realisation of what your new role weighed. You were to be a mediator, a peacekeeper, it only seemed fitting to don a uniform that symbolised your neutrality and dedication to maintaining balance among the realms.
The fabric shimmered with a subtle elegance, adorned with delicate motifs that whispered of the courts you now served. The tapestry of symbolism spoke something that words could not, of a new beginning, a new chapter– a time of peace.
The design along the back of your tunic, three majestic mountains rose proudly, their peaks reaching towards the heavens. Behind them, the sun emerged, casting its golden rays that spread warmth and light– a nod to your home.
In the left above, a fully fleshed sun beamed down upon the mountains, radiating its brilliance and vitality. To the right, three stars and a crescent moon were sewn with meticulous care, representing the rest of the solar courts and their celestial splendour.
On your left sleeve, leaves were hand stitched along your cuff,  bronze thread danced in a graceful swirl, climbing upwards towards your elbow, mirroring the silver icy shards that adorned the right sleeve. Autumn and Winter in perfect harmony. 
Around your collar, a delicate pattern of vines and roses intertwined, symbolising the beauty and vitality of the Spring Court's bloom. And along the trimmings of the tunic's bottom, waves swirled in a mesmerising dance, evoking the Summer Court's boundless energy and fluidity.
Your tunic jacket cascaded gracefully, halting just at your hips, while beneath it, a long, flowing cream pleated skirt billowed elegantly to the floor. With your hair initially draping freely, you gently pulled it forward, ensuring the intricate details adorning the back of your tunic were given their rightful moment to shine.
As you smoothed the fabric, you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride in the role you had been given. Playing a bridge between courts, and worlds. A mediator between the people. 
Politics had never really been something you relished in, but you were good with people, and good with your words. Qualities that your friend desperately convinced you, were integral to this role.
A soft knock on the door interrupted your reverie, and you turned to see Lucien, your friend, standing in the doorway. His mechanical eye wiring at the sight of you. He was wearing a similar tunic, one that was longer on his body but mirrored the designs of your own.
It was Lucien who had told you he needed you. 
I need you.
He had written to you one evening. His correspondences were usually lighthearted and filled with friendly banter, but this weighed heavily in a way that was so unlike him.
“I could really use your help.” Lucien had breathed, when you came to visit after his letter.
I need you. I need my friend. I need someone to lean on. I need someone to laugh with. It’s been too long. I miss you. 
Was what you heard. His message had been simple yet poignant, a plea for assistance and companionship.
You had always had a way with words and sounds. Understanding the gaps in between the breaths, the underlying emotions and intentions woven into each syllable. Most didn't realise what could be revealed in their words. How the octaves and melodic tones of their tongues sung of unspoken truths.
Lucien and you had shared a friendship that spanned many years, reaching back to your earliest memories of childhood. As children and teens, you had been inseparable, playmates in a time that now felt like a distant memory. However, when borders grew stricter and tensions mounted, those days were abruptly halted.
It wasn't until the dark days of Amarantha's reign that fate brought you back together, through the intervention of Nuan, a mutual friend. She was a skilled Alchemist of your court, who had aided Lucein in his healing, crafting his beautiful golden eye. And because he was no longer a part of Autumn, you were able to reconnect and your friendship flourished, even if it was predominantly through ink and parchment.
"Ready to face them?" he asked with a tight smile, his voice carrying a note of anticipation.
I’m nervous. Is what you heard under his words.
You returned his smile with a nod, a playful glint dancing in your eyes. “Of course, I was born ready Lucie” you replied, effortlessly flicking his nickname with a casual ease. 
Despite having a smart mouth now, Lucien was a name you often got tongue-tied in your younger years. Lucie had been a much easier sound to make, and you didn’t hesitate to use the endearing name when wanting to tease.
Lucien rolled his eyes, but your casual demeanour softened the nerves that had laced his previous words. That had been your intention.
Just one example of how your intuition always left you saying the right thing. Of course there were times this didn’t happen, but those occasions were extremely rare.
“We should decide which courts reside under our care before the meeting” Lucien began, striding in front of the mirror to adjust his own tunic. “And I have to say you’ve made more progress with Tamlin these past two months than I have in the past year," Lucien breathed, a hint of admiration in his voice while he smiled at you through the mirror.
You raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corner of your lips. "What, like it was hard?"
Tamlin's stubbornness had been a challenge, but your natural charisma and persuasion had proven effective in bridging the gap between his court and the others. His residents had at least started returning home, and thanks to your work, there was actually something for them to return to.
You huffed, before turning your friend around, pulling at his collar to adjust. Before tidying up his long auburn hair. 
"I can’t do both though Lucien. I'm not dealing with your brothers and Tamlin. That's too much, even for me” You remarked.
Lucien’s relationship with his brothers remained strained, the scars of their shared trauma running deep. Despite Beron’s demise, Eris was now Autumn’s High Lord. The brothers wounds were not so easily healed, and the weight of their history continued to cast a shadow over their interactions.
“Plus I do believe some forced proximity may do you and Tamlin some good” you pointed a look at him, referencing their damaged friendship.
Lucien bit the inside of his cheek, his eyes narrowing at you. He couldn’t help but envy how effortlessly you seemed to navigate the complexities of every situation, every conversation. Always knowing the right words to say, and the right actions to take. Qualities that had undoubtedly drawn him to seek your assistance in the first place. 
Qualities he forgot he would also be susceptible to.
"I'll look after Autumn and your hotheaded brothers. You deal with the depressed blondie," you suggested, a mischievous glint dancing in your eyes.
"Fine," Lucien conceded, begrudgingly acknowledging the wisdom in your words.
“I want Dawn, it’s my home and Thesan would be heartbroken if I wasn’t his courtier,” you asserted confidently.
"Then I'll have Day," Lucien negotiated, a hint of determination in his tone.
As the conversation turned to the remaining courts, you paused, considering the options carefully. The Night Court held a particular significance for Lucien, given his mate's presence there, but you were keenly aware of the tension that still lingered between them.
"I can take Night if that helps. I've already been the one updating their Spymaster recently anyway," you offered, your voice steady as you finally finished straightening up Lucien. Pulling your hands swiftly behind your back.
He mirrored your pose "Then I will manage Winter," Lucien conceded, a sense of resignation colouring his words. He wasn’t very fond of the cold, but neither were you. 
But he was happy to take this one for you, as you had taken Autumn and Night for him.
"Summer is mine. You can have the humans, your Band of Rejects or whatever they're called," you remarked playfully.
"Exiles," Lucien corrected with a humorous purr, a brief flicker of amusement softening his eyes.
“Apologies…band of exile…-d rejects” you humoured, before you felt him nudge you with his shoulder.
Your soft laughs filled the room before you tilted your head to look at your dearest friend “Look at you now. Exiled no more. Mr. Emissary of Peace” 
Lucien smiled proudly at the title, he had come a long way. This new chapter for Phrytian was daunting, but he was grateful to have you by his side “You ready?”
With a nod you grinned wide “Let’s go peacekeep the fuck out of them Lucie!” 
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a/n: Eeeekkkk so here's a little intro to set the tone and roles! Just a little disclaimer, there will be a few things in this series that haven't happened in the books, but it works for the plot. Only small things, so just go with it please! Excited to share this story with you all <3 - Lottie x
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