#i do cherish their company and the memories! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

luvgam3 · 1 month ago

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Summary: You and your ex-husband Nanami have a good relationship. Even after the divorce you remained good friends and even better co-parents. Babysitting for one another isn’t out of the usual, and talking about your newest relationships isn’t strange either— but when you show up at his doorstep after a particularly nasty date it leads you both to wonder if your relationship is really truly over for good.

Cw: MDNI (18+), afab!reader, small mentions of cheating, you and Nanami have a kid together, girl dad Nanami, hair pulling, consent king Nanami, oral (fem receiving), aftercare !!!

“Fine! Fucking leave!” You yell, your voice cracking as cold rain pierces your skin.

That asshole. That shitty excuse of a man your boyfriend of two weeks, left you on the side of the road. Alone. In the middle of a late summer storm.

But what did you really expect to happen? The red flags were all neatly lined up for you. Sure maybe the fact that he smelt like a different woman’s perfume every time you met should’ve set you off, but maybe you were just over thinking it! Maybe he was a little too handsy for a man you just started dating, and maybe he was a little rude to waitresses, and bartenders, and you— but your last straw was calling him out on his empty threats. ‘I’ll leave you-‘ for this ‘I’ll shut your ass up’ for that. God did he ever stop talking. You snapped; telling him that if you pissed him so much then why didn’t he just drop you off on the side of the road. The only time he’d ever followed through… and it had to be now.

Low rumbles of thunder sound in the distance, blending with the pop of his engine as he speeds away. Inside your head is a loud jumbled mess of ‘where the fuck am I?’ and ‘who does he think he fucking is?’ but all of that sound is ultimately drowned out by that heavy pitiful feeling tugging at your heart. Angry tears prickle at the backs of your eyes as you walk, your heels crunching pebbles and walking through puddles, carrying you to the only place you know by heart. To the only man who you know wouldn’t leave you stranded.

If the night were to play out correctly you wouldn’t be showing up till noon the next day, even when dates did go wrong you never made it his problem. You were divorced after all, your love life mishaps stopped being his problem a while ago. Okay that isn’t entirely true… Nanami comes over to your house once a week for family dinner. After your little girl is tucked away in her bed and the dinner dishes have been done do you two sit alone at the table, drinks in hand as you catch up. Talking about your kid wasn’t the only topic of discussion. Friends, gossip, dates, normal adult conversation. The topic of dating other people because less and less embarrassing as the years flew by. Like the amazingly wonderful co-parenting duo you are— you came up with the babysitting agreement. Nanami happily took your daughter for the night so you could relax and bask in the company of anyone you wanted. He cherished every minute he got with his little girl, it was never a disappointment when you texted him asking if he could take her for the night.

Lost in the depths of your own mind you aimlessly walked down the dark and dreary road. Void of people, void of light. The only sound the pattering of rain and the rumbles of thunder.

Static buzzed in your ears as you slid into the empty apartment lobby, your soggy heels clacking against the neat polished floors. Your tears fizzled into a pale anger that burned the back of your throat as you pressed his floor number on the elevator. The only good thing about this entire situation, you think, is that the rain washed away the feeling of his hands on your skin. The scent of him clinging to your clothes. All gone. Washed down the sewage drain with the unpleasant memory of him.

Softly, you knocked on his door. It’s well past eleven, he should be asleep, but you know him better than that.

Nanami slowly opens the door, his brows furrow as his eyes meet yours. Concern painting his face.

You don’t have the energy to answer his unsaid questions, so instead you silently squeeze past him, kicking your wet heels off at the door. The air-conditioned room sends shivers up your soaked spine, littering your skin in goosebumps as you carry yourself to his liquid cabinet. Your fingers find the key he keeps hidden on the top of the rich oak cabinet, quickly pushing it into the lock and twisting. You’re on a mission as you blindly grab a bottle, bumping the door closed with your hip before turning to his rack of expensive drinking glasses, plucking two and setting them onto the counter with a soft clink.

He watches you pop the cork as quietly as you can, pouring the expensive liquid into two glasses, pushing one towards him without a word as you bring the sparklingly clear glass to your gloss smeared lips.

Married for four years, divorced for two, he knows the crinkle of your nose and the subtle twitch in your eye means one thing— you’re fuming. Beyond mad. If there was a word for that level of anger he’d use it to describe you in this moment.

He knows better than to ask what’s wrong, so instead he drinks with you; listening to the wall clock tick, to your nails tap against marble countertop, to the soft melody flowing from his record player. Darkness envelops you both, the only light combing from his little yellow reading lamp. It’s hardly enough to aluminate your faces, but the flicker of amber reflects in your fiery eyes.

“I think I got dumped.” You mutter, swishing the dark liquid around in your glass. You don’t wait for him to respond as you groan, willing the anger to subside and for the chill in your skin to vanish.

The crackle of the record prickles your ears just as much as the cool night air prickles your skin, filling your veins with ice as you continue to drink.

Nanami watches you, your hair drips onto your shoulders, your mascara streaky and your lips smudged. Disheveled and shivering in his kitchen. Filled with that unmistakable blinding anger you hold with such grace. If he was still your husband his hands would be wrapped around your waist, pulling you close to him in a slow lazy sway to the soft music playing. But he isn’t your husband anymore. The word ‘ex’ stopped leaving a bad taste on his tongue a while ago— you’ve both worked around your usual ways to comfort one another and made them more friendly more… pg.

He pushes his glasses up into his hair, putting his glass down softly and disappearing into the dark hall. But you don’t notice. Not when your stomach pulls, not when your head is swimming with so many useless thoughts— thinking of the waisted days, waisted nights. Ugh even waisted money. All on some asshole—

“The bath is running, I left a towel out for you.” Nanami says as he reenters unnoticed, his voice soft and airy as he stops infront of you with a towelette. He tilts your chin to the side, your eyes scanning over his face as he cleans yours; he runs the cool wipe over your cheek, under your eyes and across your lips. He knows you’re more than capable, but still he handles you as delicately as humanly possible, swiping away stray hairs clung to your forehead and cheeks as if you would shatter under his fingers like the glasses you drank from.

He finishes, turning away to clean up the kitchen as you make your way towards the sound of running water.

The smell hits you before you push open the door; lavender scented suds decorate the surface of the water. Steam swirls into the air as you peel off your wet clothes— and for the first time tonight you were excited. Scolding water seeps into your skin as you step in, a tired groan escapes your lips as you sink farther in.

It’s funny how things change, how time passes and people grow apart, you think as you submerge your shoulders. Nanami used to run you baths almost every night, his small way of telling you how much he cherished you. Bubbles of every scent, bath oils and salts, candles and wine. The memory like a blanket as your skin tingles under the scolding water.

A soft knock at the door has your droopy eyes opening, “It’s unlocked.” You say, your voice horse and exhausted. Nanami softly cracks the door open, he walks in and places a small bundle of clothes onto the toilet lid, “You can wear these.” His clothes, a lounge shirt, too old sweatpants and a pair of boxers. You watched as he picked up your pile of sopping clothes, ringing the remaining water into the sink.

You’ve worn his clothes before. On laundry day, the morning after… an eventful night, even when you just missed him. That weird feeling in your stomach probably means nothing.

You watch him in the low light of the bathroom, his muscles rippling under his t-shirt as he works the water from the fabric in a comfortable silence.

��How was your night?” You ask, your fingers swirling through foamy bubbles. Nanami hums as he turns to face you; he rests against the sink, folding his arms across his chest. “Fine.” He says, his tone even as he scans your face.

It’s normal— seeing your ex wife soak in your bathtub, naked in your home for the first time in years. The thought makes Nanami shift slightly, his eyes focusing on the tile behind you. A safer option.

You mold the bubbles into little lumps, feeling his gentle gaze on you as if it’s normal again. Maybe tomorrow this memory will haunt you, make you burn up from the inside out. How oddly vulnerable the entire ordeal is. But for now you just smile softly, “what, you’re not going to ask me about my night?” You hum only half kidding.

Clearing his throat he turns back to the sink, “I assumed you wouldn’t want to talk about it.” Droplets of rainwater trickle down the drain as he squeezes the fabric again.

You don’t want to talk about it, so why did you even bother bringing it up?

You lean back, your eyes still glued to the fizzling bubbles in your palm and clinging to your skin. Where would you even start? Maybe how your date was ogling the waitress as soon as you got there, or maybe how he tried to gaslight you in the car, or how you have him the wicked suggestion to dump you onto the streets.

“Would you?” He asks, cutting through the silence, “Like to talk about it, I mean.”

Maybe you could talk about how your date never asked what you wanted. Or how he never called you gorgeous, just because. Maybe you could bring up how he only ever seemed to want you a little more when other women wouldn’t look his way.

There’s a line, right? Between ex’s and friends? There’s things you shouldn’t talk about past a certain point. Yet you still got excited to tell him about small insignificant things. Like the amazing bagel you had for breakfast, or how you and your daughter watched the most gut wrenching animated movie the night before and cried way more than she did; the small things you never seemed to tell your other partners. But you were friends… right? That’s what this was. A friendship.

You hum, “let me wash my hair first.” Nanami takes his cue, collecting your still wet clothing and leaving the bathroom.

You dip your head under the rapidly cooling water after heating the door click closed. The soft hum and the slight pop as the water envelops you like a liquid blanket, drawing you in as you hold your breath.

✮ ✮ ✮

His clothes seem to always sag on you, no matter your size they always felt so big. The cold hardwood floor sends a shiver up your spine as you step through the quiet hall. Nanami sits in his arm chair, your unfinished glass waiting for you on the coffee table, the record has been changed, joined with the soft hum of the drier now running, the warm yellow light still flickers away.

A time capsule of peace, this was your life. Coming home and reading your respective books on opposite sides of the room, or maybe together on the sofa huddled close together— but why’re you thinking about that now? Ugh it nags at you as you sit down, your body suddenly heavy as the plush couch pulls you in.

“What time is it?” You ask as you give in to exhaustion, your eyes fluttering shut and your head lulling back. You hear Nanami close his book, “2:45am.”

You sigh, digging the heels of your palms into your tired eyes, “Shit.” Despite the pang of unmet hunger in the pit of your stomach, despite the exhaustion gnawing at you, despite everything that’s happened tonight— you giggle. The sound startling another one out of you as you curl in on yourself, “god what a fucking night.”

Nanami gazes at you, drowning in his t-shirt, absolutely hysterical— with what he wonders.

“That asshole—“ you start, your wet hair clinging to your face as you roll your head to face him, “never once asked me what I wanted.”

He nods, and you continue, “not when we went out for dinner, not when we grabbed drinks, not when we fucked—“ your hands fly up on a silent groan, “who does that?” The question far above a whisper.

Nanami was many things— always busy, always working, but he never neglected you or your needs. That’s one thing you could never replace in your newer partners, his attentiveness.

“People are greedy.” He says, pushing his glasses up as he gently places his forgotten book onto the coffee table. “They—“ should he say this? Should he even be thinking it? But you’re friends… friends… comfort each other. “They don’t know how to please you in the ways you want crave— need. They never take the time.” His voice a husky whisper.

You groan, tired and not thinking as you go to continue complaining, “Like you know what I want.” The words come out with an edge you never meant to put there.

“I’m not saying that—“

“You might as well be, I never asked for your input, it was rhetorical.” You snap, the words clawing their way out before you can stop them. Was it pent up anger that made you stand up? Or maybe that simmering unmet lust burning deep in your gut that made you walk in front of him, challenging him, begging him wordlessly. Or maybe it was that deep history, etched into your bones, your body craving his forgotten touch.

He stares up at you, his legs spread wide, his arms gripping the armrests. His breathing slows, his eyes set on yours in a heated stare.

“Do you know what I want?” You ask, voice low, your words crackle with need. “Did you ever know what I wanted?“

Nanami knew you like the back of his hand. You liked when he’d go down on you, legs spread wide by his strong hands. You liked to pull his hair when he’d bite at your neck, so he grew it out. You liked when he’d ruin you with just his tongue while he held your small hand in his much larger one. He knew every freckle on your body, every stretch mark, every hair. He knew what your moods meant, when you were silently begging to be split apart on his cock.

He knew what you wanted more than you did.

The record keeps spinning as he rises, his body towering over you, his voice rumbles deep in his throat, “You know the answer… but tell me—“

You swallow thickly, your body stiffens as he brushes your drying hair from your shoulder, his face lowers, his hot breath fans over the damp shell of your ear sending goosebumps flying across your skin. “As long as we’ve been apart… have you ever wished… it were me between your legs?”

Your eyes flutter, just like your heart as you press your palms into his firm chest. Did you? You stand there, your fingers pressing harder into his clothed skin as you wrack your brain. Maybe you have been comparing your partners to him, maybe that’s by you can’t keep one— fuck maybe that’s why you got yourself kicked out of a car tonight. But his breath is so hot against your skin, you can feel his hands hover above your hips. You both know what you want, you both know what you need.

“If I said no,” your voice breathy, “would you believe me?”

He laughs, the sound brings a slime to your lips as his forehead falls to your shoulder. In this moment it seems so simple, feels so familiar. And maybe that’s all you need tonight.

“Is it… okay if I touch you?” He asks, that sentence hasn’t been heard in years, you’d almost forgotten how wet it makes you. Almost.

You nod, your palms slowly sliding up his chest and around his neck.

That light moment slowly fading before your eyes as he presses his lips to the exposed skin below your ear. “Words.”

“Yes dammit you know I hate when you—“

You choke on your words as he pulls back, his hand threading with your damp locks and craning your head back. Your eyes frantically search his, the reading lamp the only light reflecting off of them.

Nanami’s usual gentleness is gone as he stares you down. “You need to be quiet for me, can you do that?” One hand cradles your cheek, the other tugs at your hand, begging to be held.

Before you can answer he’s pulling you with him, leading you to his bedroom. The darkness of the apartment swallows you both as you enter the room, the music fading, the sounds of your eager breath becomes the only sound ringing in both of your ears.

He doesn’t waste time sliding his warm hands underneath your shirt, pulling you closer to him as his lips crash into yours.

Everything about him invades your senses, the taste of his lips, his touch, the smell of him— all of it makes you clench your thighs together as his fingers press into your soft skin.

“I forgot—“ Nanami’s lips trail a path down your throat, his fingers sliding under the waistband of the boxers you’re wearing, “how incredible you look in my clothes.” His boxers, his shirt, his sweatpants— all of it reeks of him— the overwhelming scent of his cologne makes you dizzy as the pads of his fingers teasingly brush against your clit. The tips of your ears burn as you choke down a moan, your own fingers tangling into his combed blonde hair.

He makes a quiet ‘tsk’ before biting your neck, a soft nip before he’s licking the pain away, “quiet—“ lithe fingers sink slowly into you, “or I stop.”

Lust clouds every rational thought swirling around inside of your brain as you nod frantically, desperate for him to continue.

“Good girl.” Your hips grind down onto his fingers, clit brushing against his palm with an infuriating lightness. Not enough. Never enough. A soft whine of frustration sounds in the back of your throat. His free hand sneaks up your throat, his fingers dancing across your jaw, this thumb pulling at your plump bottom lip. A groan—husky and raw sounds deep in his chest as the diget slips past your lips into your warm wet mouth. Hot and slick as he presses the pad of his thumb down onto your tongue.

Dark eyes meet yours in the inky black of his room, “get on the bed.”

He pulls out of you, turning away from you before you can beg him to continue. Nanami rushes to the door, his feet light as he gently clicks it closed. You’re too busy peeling off his boxers to notice him lick a long stripe up his slick fingers, but you hear the sound he makes. He groans as his tongue licks every last drop of you from his fingers.

You sink onto the bed just as he flicks on a small lamp, your body cast in that familiar pale yellow glow. Nanami however is a silhouette before you, warm light framing his every move. Clenching around nothing you watch him peel his shirt off, the sound of his pants following suit. You crawl backward in search of the headboard, his hands grasp your ankles and in one quick yank you’re back at the edge. You instinctively clamp your thighs together as he sinks to his knees, hands prying your legs apart. “Don’t run from me, show me what I’ve been missing.” He whispers, his gentle voice sending shivers down your spine and to your waiting cunt. And he notices. You’re spread wide with his hands trailing torturously gentle shapes into your skin.

He feels so pathetic. He’s harder than he’s ever been as he gazes at your weeping pussy splayed out for him, leaking down your ass and onto his freshly washed sheets. How long will he just stare at you, mouth watering as you bite down hard on your bottom lip while your legs tremble under his feather light touch.

“Kento-“ you mumble, “this is embarrassing stop teasing m—“ you gasp at the sudden sensation. His lips find your swollen clit without fail, the familiarity slowly rising back to the surface. He mumbles against you, his words muffled and sending shivers straight through you as his fingers prod at your dripping hole.

It’s torture you think. The way he flattens his tongue against your throbbing clit, fingers sliding in with ease as you clasp your hand around your mouth. Lips trembling as you choke down moan after moan.

Nanami’s always been a tender lover, putting your needs above his own— it’s nice to know that hasn’t changed as you dig your heels into his mattress, thighs trembling and back arching ever so slightly as he bullies his fingers into you again and again. The desperate depraved moans you choke down slip out as small squeaks that have Nanami leaking through his boxers.

He can’t take it— how warm you are against his fingers, juices leaking down his arm, his tongue working in ways he’d forgot possible. He moans against you one final time before pulling off, licking his lips clean as you prop yourself up onto your elbows.

“Ken—“

“Turnover” his voice deep and laced with utter desperation as you watch him tuck his thumbs under the electric of his boxers.

It was like a game, waiting to see who will crack first as he peels away that last layer of fabric. He’s throbbing and so painfully hard under your watchful gaze. Your eyes taking in every vein, admiring that upward bend that had to seeing stars countless times— not even a foot away from you now.

“Can I-“ suck you off.

Large hands pull you forward, “Later.” That inhuman strength has you spinning, landing on your stomach with a startled yelp.

You push yourself up, arms trembling as he reaches over you and snatches a pillow. “W-wait, I wanted to—“ you go to stutter in protest only for his palm to press down firmly on your back, right between your shoulder blades. One second your hips are pressed into the soft bedsheets— the next they’re held high in the air only supported by his brutal grasp.

Your senses are on fire. Your cheek is pressed into a pillow that smells so much like his shampoo, your thighs covered in your cooling slick, all you can hear is your own hammering heart and jagged breaths as his hands slide over you. One trailing up the small of your back, sneaking over your shoulder blades and stopping at your nape. The other holds you up by the hips as he slots his cock between your slick folds with a sickeningly low groan.

Nanami presses his chest against your back, you can feel his heart, feel his body heat, you can practically taste the sweat that already adorns his face as his lips hover over the shell of your ear. “Tell me to stop, and I’ll stop.” He whispers, his voice so husky you can feel the rumble slide down your throat and live in your ribcage. You nod frantically, “Fine, okay you have my word— fuck—hurry up already! Please-please-please—“ you whine, a memory that will have your cheeks the richest shade of red come tomorrow.

“Good girl,” he hums, his tip slowly enters you with an infuriating slowness that has you gripping the sheets under you. “You learned how to use your words, m’proud of you angel.” He moans as he wills himself to go slowly, he wants to savor the way you clench around him again, savor the way you gush at his gentle praise.

One twitch of your hips and you’d be completely split open, and somehow that’s what you need. You press yourself into his sheets, rocking your hips back into him with that impatience that pissed him off and made him even harder.

More.

You groan, your lip bitten and raw as you beg. “Ken—“

His chest still rests against your back as he litters your neck in open mouth kisses, “I know, Angel.” His teeth graze the flesh of your neck to feel you tremble under him. “Be patient for me.”

It’s so hard to obey when he’s moving so deliberately slow— drawing it out so you feel every vein, every twitch, every slight stutter of his hips when you whine into the pillow under you. You don’t know how hard it is for him not to grab a fist full of your hair and press your face into the sheets— how hard it is for him not to snap his hips into yours at such a brutal pace it gives you a lip the next day. He needs to hear you scream his name until your lungs burn and your hands cramp from clinging onto him with the last of your strength.

Next time he thinks. Next time you’ll be all alone, folded in half under him with your pretty little face staring up at him as he fucks you again and again.

“So good for me.” He moans into your ear as his hips finally meet the swell of your ass. “So good.” He bites your neck, stifling a moan as you clench around him.

Nanami kisses the pain away as he pulls out halfway and then slowly entering again. And again. And again.

The feeling of him so deep in your gut has you panting, trembling and clawing at his pillow. Your hands ache from clinging to anything you can reach, but you’re afraid if you didn’t occupy yourself you’d scream, so completely under his control it drives you insane. You’re so focused on breathing and willing yourself not to be too loud that you don’t feel one of his hands leaving your body only to wrap around your wrist, his thumb circling your skin in time with his movements.

Slow and lazy strokes turn into quick sloppy thrusts, the soft squelch of your mixed arousal becoming louder in your ears. All you can hear is Nanami’s low groans next to your ear and the subtle squeak of the bed frame and it has your head spinning.

“Ken—“ you moan, teeth imbedded in your bottom lip.

He reminds that eager little yelp in your tone even when it’s being suppressed. You’re close already. So so close.

He sneaks his other hand under you, trailing it down your stomach as the other tightens around your wrist.

Even if he can read you, he needs to know. To hear it drip from your lips and into the heated sizzling air. “What do you need? Tell me—fuck— tell me what you need.”

Your stomach flutters, ears burning and legs trembling as you whine. So high pitched and pathetic it has him reeling on top of you, his cock throbbing at the sound of pure desperation.

“M’so close— Kento please I need—fuck fuck fuck—“ you shudder as you feel the heat of his palm hovering over your clit. “Need to cum—“

His fingers hone in on your pulsing bud before the words even finish leaving your lips.

Who is he to deny you that high?

Maybe you’ve been so unknowingly pent up, or maybe you just craved his touch that much— but as soon as the rough pads of his fingers sought you out you felt your back bow, your lips tremble and you’re turning your hand palm up to intertwine your fingers with his as the coil in your gut tightens.

Nanami’s face scrunches as he feels your pussy tighten around him. You squeeze his hand, you tremble under him and moan and drool onto his pillow. His bed might’ve smelt like him this morning but tonight it drips with you. The body he’s craved ever since his eyes met yours for the very first time— his pace quickens.

“Cum for me,” he hooks his chin over your shoulder. “Please— I need you to— fuck— I need it.” He whimpers, words trembling as his fingers quicken, his hand could fall off for all he cared. He needed this. He needed you.

He’s whined before, but now in this moment it sounded so sinful. His face was so close to yours, you could feel his now damp hair touch your cheek, you could feel his breath and if you opened your eyes— see the bead of sweat trickle down the curve of his nose.

His gruff voice sounded so sweet as he begged you, pleaded with you to cum around his cock.

You nodded, frantic.

The only warning your body allows is a shiver that shoots up the base of your spine as you cum. White flashes behind your eyelids as you bite into the pillow, your teeth threaten to pop a seam as you ride our your violent high through choked sobs.

Nanami cums after you, your tight walls spasming around him as he pumps you full with a groan that hangs heavy in the sticky air.

It takes everything he has left not to collapse on top of you as he eases his way out. Leaning back he watches as his cum oozes out of you, and with gentle fingers he pushes it back in, watching the way you writhe as overstimulation knocks on your door.

With a fuzzy head you allow him to carefully lay you on your back. His hand cups your cheek as he presses a parting kiss to your forehead. You hardly register his absence till you feel him part your legs, a warm towel glides up your legs and you hum at the cozy feeling of it. The familiar comfort he brings you is something you’ve missed. Nanami takes his time cleaning you up before he urges you under the covers. You sleepily comply.

Sleepily. Who knew his dick would be your melatonin again, you think to yourself as you tuck yourself farther into his bed with a content sigh. Before sleep can fully grasp you, you feel Nanami’s strong arms pull you to his chest, his nose buried in the crook of your neck once more. It isn’t long before you fall asleep in his arms, in the pitch black of his room, in a bed that smells like black coffee and lavender, just like you used to. It’s so familiar, so inviting and whole.

Maybe your next boyfriend will be better than the last guy. In fact… maybe he’ll be just like your ex-husband.

#jjk x reader #nanami kento smut #nanami kento x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami x you #nanami kento x reader #jjk smut #nanami kento #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x you

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mingtinys · 2 months ago

Text

in a thousand lifetimes

pairing : choi seungcheol x gn!reader

hurt / comfort , angst , mafia leader!scoups au

warnings : language , descriptions of blood , mafia themes

word count : 3.5 k

requested ? no

a/n : there's just something about the domestic side of mafia au's that i just love so dearly . secretly soft and fragile mafia leader crying in the arms of their loved one >>>>>>> ruthless and cold mafia leaders .

The day you stood by Seungcheol at the altar, you promised a myriad of unconditional vows, as did he. For better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health— until death do you part. To love him without doubt and cherish the heart he had so willingly placed in your care. You swore to cradle it with gentle hands; to keep it safe from shattering until the very last beat.

You were prepared for that. Excited, even.

But as Seungcheol limps through the entrance of the home you've built together, you feel your confidence in that pact falter for the first time. Perhaps you'd missed something in your vows. The part that told you what to do when the love of your life comes home stained in red. From his white button-up to his polished shoes— even his sweet, sweet face— tarnished.

You don't want him to hear the way your voice trembles. But God, that stench. That pungent scent of iron coats your throat and you can't help the way it constricts to keep the subsequent wave of nausea at bay.

"Cheol?"

His head snaps up at you like he's just now realized where he is. Glazed-over eyes connect with the wood floors you'd spent an hour mopping, then to his shaking hands painted in crimson, before that stale gaze finally lifts and meets your own.

"Are you hurt?"

He shakes his head.

"Seungcheol..." You take cautious steps his way, like how one would approach a wild deer. "Who's blood is this?"

Tears are in his eyes, but his face remains rigid. Like his brain is stuck in survival mode, but his emotions are leaking out.

"Chan's."

The boy's name hits your ears like venom. Sweet, gentle, kind, Lee Chan. The youngest intern under Seungcheol's leadership, you'd met him once at a company dinner. You don't think you've ever met someone with such a heart of gold. And it's a little hard to imagine you could be staring at all that's left of him. "Oh my God, is he okay? What happened?"

Seungcheol's face twists at your questions, some memory pulling at his brows and forcing his eyes shut. They open with fresh tears and the first ounce of clarity cracks through his otherwise dazed state.

"He's in the hospital—" You see the words catch in his throat. His fist repeatedly pounds against his thigh and his mouth hangs open until the words finally come. "It's my fault. He's just a kid, this is all my fault— he shouldn't have been there. They shouldn't have been able to get to him. It was too dangerous, he wasn't ready."

Nothing of his fragmented words makes any sort of sense. You've never seen him like this, so frazzled, so pitiful, so... broken. The sight of it twists your heart, contorting in your chest to such an unnatural degree there's a physical ache.

So, despite the nausea burning your esophagus and the screams of protest deep within your bones, your arms open and gravity pulls Seungcheol into them with labored steps. His knees buckle instantly at the contact and it takes every ounce of strength in your arms to catch him. Letting yourself sink with him to soften the fall; even if that means your knees land with a painful thud, already able to feel purple bruises blossoming from the impact.

Because you love him.

Because you vowed not only for better but for worse as well. And vows are only as good as the turmoils they prove to withstand.

Calloused hands grip the sides of your shirt. You try to ignore the stains they leave, pushing your focus onto the man before you on the brink of hysterics. His forehead falls to your chest, and that's when the most wretched sobs you've ever had the displeasure of hearing begin. Loud and sharp, like the blade of a sword, as they slice through the eerily still night.

A chill creeps in from where your knees connect with the hardwood and crawls up the length of your spine. It nests in your mind and metastasizes, igniting alarms in that little part of your brain that warns: you should be scared. Though it doesn't grant you the knowledge of what.

"Baby, what happened?" You ask and recite a silent prayer the answer to that is not him.

He sobs out an unpromising, "I can't."

"Seungcheol, there is too much blood for that shit. You need to tell me what the hell is going on." Your eyes are starting to burn with the flood breaching your lashes, unsure how much longer you can force an ease into your tone.

You need him to just spit it out. Before your heart explodes.

You steady his head between your palms and swipe at the blood spatter decorating his jawline. It just smears, mixing with his tears and tinting more of his cheek in a dull brownish-red. Seungcheol looks at you with eyes that scream please don't hate me and you don't know but... you know. Enough that when the confession finally pours from his lips, the shock doesn't totally shatter your ribs on impact. Instead, the words slowly seep into your skin and enter your bloodstream like a bitter poison.

Suddenly, minuscule details make much more sense, revealing the full picture like a jigsaw puzzle falling into place. The nights he doesn't return until the sun breaches the horizon. The general air of mystery around his job and the "family business" he took over years ago. How insistent he had been with you learning some type of self-defense. All the way down to the dried blood that lingered under his fingernails.

You should be levels more upset than you are at his confession. Any normal person would be. He lied to you, for years. Hid a secret so large it could easily blow a crater in the earth should the measly stilts it balanced on collapse. Yet, the anger you feel doesn't boil over into a blind rage. It stirs with concern and simmers until it has been diluted into nothing but the type of anger that can only be fueled by love. It comes with the terrifying revelation that the person you love most in this world, could've been stolen from you at any moment and you would've been none the wiser as to how. It makes you want to hold him a little extra in the mornings, a little harder, closer.

Then, somewhere, in that tangled web of emotions fighting to reach the surface, there's an unexpected relief. Because one thing has been glaringly obvious since the day you met Choi Seungcheol. The reason he appears as such a pillar of strength relies solely on the fact that he shoulders the weight of the world alone. Rarely does he let his struggles reach his cheery expression. You can't help but think, now that you know, there's one less burden he has to carry by himself.

"Please don't leave me," Seungcheol rasps out. You'd nearly forgotten where you were for a moment. Forgot his face was still between your hands, that blood still smeared his cheek, and tears were still slipping from his lashes. But at this moment, as those weary earth-brown eyes search your face for an answer, you realize just how malleable your morals are when it comes to him.

"I love you." You confess, like it's the first time the phrase has ever left your lips. "Cheol, I love you more than anything in this world." So much it frightens you what you're willing to forgive.

But then again it doesn't. Because he's never been Choi Seungcheol, the city's most feared mob boss. To you, he's always just been Cheol. The man that nearly burned your kitchen down two anniversaries ago trying to make you breakfast in bed. Who pouts and whines when you haven't given him enough attention after work. Who's touch has only ever been as gentle as a Summer's breeze. And maybe you're naive, but you'd like to believe the Seungcheol that peppers your face with kisses every morning and begs for five extra minutes in bed is a truer reflection of his heart than his job.

With one final deep breath to steel your nerves and silence the brigade of questions swirling in your head, you press a long kiss to his temple— one of the only areas not tainted with red. The tension in his muscles visibly melts away at the contact and beyond anything he just looks... tired. You want nothing more than to let him rest in the safety of your arms, but he's still covered in Chan's blood.

"Let's get you cleaned up, yeah?" You coax him from the floor, never once letting your voice slip above a gentle whisper. He tries to protest, insisting he needs to be at the hospital with the others to check on Chan, but puts up absolutely no fight when you tell him that can wait until tomorrow as you guide him towards the bathroom.

You gather towels and fresh clothes and lay them out on the vanity. "Take your time, okay? I won't go far, promise." With one last reassurance, you leave Seungcheol in privacy to shower and clean the blood from his skin.

Alone now, the adrenaline in your veins dissolves, and the full gravity of everything finally crashes around you. The metallic scent lingering in the air, the drying blood on the hardwood, the feeling of impending doom that comes with a truth so heavy. It's too much, at least to bear in such a tiny apartment. You all but sprint out the front door, accidentally letting it shut with a hefty slam.

The warm Summer night air hits your skin and wraps around you like a security blanket. You inhale deeply, once, twice, thrice, and on the fourth breath, it feels like the oxygen finally reaches the base of your lungs.

You sit, for a length of time you remain ignorant to, at the bottom of the stairwell. Lost deep in thought until the buzzing of your phone reverberates from your back pocket. You look at it but— no caller I.D.

Answering it anyway, a sense of comfort fills you at the familiar voice.

"Jeonghan." You greet.

"I'm sorry to call so late," He says, voice languid. "I just wanted to know if Seungcheol got home safe yet."

"He did."

There's a long pause of silence. Just the steady beeps of a heart monitor on the other side of the line. Then, "Is Chan okay?"

"Yeah, he's sleeping right now. Doctors gave him some of the good shit to knock him out for the night." There's a hesitance to the way he speaks and you think perhaps he's weighing in his mind what excuse Seungcheol might have told you as to why Chan is even in the hospital to begin with.

"Jeonghan, can I ask you something?"

"I can't promise I'll have an answer, but sure." He's always been so calculated in the way he speaks, which makes sense to you now.

You chew at the inside of your cheek. "Seungcheol, he... He keeps himself safe, right?"

"You know." He sighs, matter of fact.

"I do."

"He's careful, smart, keeps his hands clean-ish. We all look after each other, he's about as safe as he can be." The man on the other end of the line yawns, and you wonder how long he's been up wondering if Seungcheol made it home before he finally called. That in and of itself should comfort you and prove Seungcheol has people who care about him when you're not around, but it doesn't. You don't think anything ever could at this point. Perhaps it was better not knowing the truth.

"That doesn't exactly make me feel better."

Jeonghan snorts. "I didn't think it would."

Another stretch of silence spans over the line for an uncomfortably long time. So long, you begin to think maybe the call disconnected. But that steady beeping is still there, quiet, but there.

Then Jeonghan speaks, his sudden words sending ice pricking through your veins. "You're an accomplice now, you know?" His voice carries no emotion. It's as if he's reading the words straight from an instruction manual. "Unless, of course, you turn him in."

Oh.

You hadn't thought of that.

"Would you?"

His question lingers in the air like smoke, suffocating your airways so much it feels like you might choke before you can even answer.

Never has the idea of betraying Seungcheol's trust ever been a thought in your head, much less an option. But he's right. Your newfound knowledge makes you just as much a criminal in the eyes of the law as if you had committed the act yourself. It's either fess up while you still can or guard his secret with, quite literally, your life.

Perhaps you were a bit hasty. It was easy to hold Seungcheol in your arms and whisper comforting words between his sobs. However, when it comes to your own fate, you're forced to reckon with the dread that washes over you like a bucket of ice, alone.

Still, you're embarrassed that not even a shred of doubt weighs your decision. Just an immeasurable amount of guilt.

"No."

"You don't sound so sure."

"It's a lot to process." You defend, trying not to let your voice waver too much under Jeonghan's scrutiny.

"I know it is," He relents, and suddenly, his voice shifts back to the soothing, angelic tone you've always been used to. "I'm sorry, I haven't even asked how you're feeling."

The conversation lulls in what you assume is Jeonghan leaving space for you to share if so you wish. You don't— knowing that if you were to loosen even a single thread tethering your mind in the realm of sanity, it would all unravel. You've only just begun to construct the brittle wall that separates your Seungcheol from the one covered in blood. If it were to take a blow so early and come crumbling down, you fear you may not have the strength needed to start over.

Your current position is precarious and emotions are already tricky— pouring them out to Seungcheol's best friend even more so.

"I'm fine. I should probably get back to Cheol." You say instead.

Jeonghan hums. "He's had a rough night." Steady beeps still pulse like a metronome in the background, mixing with a subtle chatter. "Let him know everyone is okay and if you two need anything, just call."

"I'll tell him."

"That means you too."

A voice calls Jeonghan's name and the line goes dead before you can say anything more. Not that you had much else left to say— or anything that would be news to Jeonghan at least. It felt like he knew more about your spinning mind in one phone call than you'd pieced together since Seungcheol stumbled through the door.

Seungcheol.

Seungcheol, who's been alone in your tiny apartment for who knows how long at this point. With nothing but his thoughts and a water heater that runs out far too quickly to comfort him. Your heart aches at the idea of him crumpled up in the basin of the porcelain tub alone.

Seungcheol, whom you find sitting at the kitchen island with his head in his hands— hunched over a steaming mug of tea— upon your return. His hair hangs down in damp strings, dripping onto his pair of comfort sweatpants, the ones he tends to gravitate towards when he's had a long day.

The door clicks shut behind you and his head snaps up with lightning quick reflexes. A wild look flashes in his eyes, but it melts away almost as quick as it came. His shoulders slump with relief and for what seems like an eternity, he just let's his gaze linger.

"I didn't think you were coming back." He rasps. His fingers curl around the mug, siphoning off some of its warmth to combat the slight chill in the air.

His hands are clean now— free of any trace of dark red— then again, they never really were. Probably never will be.

"To be honest, I wasn't completely sure I was." You're still some distance away from where he sits, a fact you're made painfully aware of by the way his eyes flit between you and the door. As if he expects you to flee at any moment.

"I would understand, you know?" His voice is as soft and genuine as it was the day he said I do. "I wouldn't be mad. My job, this life, it was never supposed to be your burden. You can walk out and I wouldn't—" His voice catches and he takes a swig of his tea, cringing at the temperature as it goes down. "—I wouldn't stop you."

You know he wouldn't. Because Choi Seungcheol is a good man. There would not be a ring on your finger if he wasn't. It's why you're so comfortable closing the distance that separates you two.

It's why you're so comfortable excusing all of his wrongs.

"I'm not going anywhere."

"You should." He croaks. Tears gather at his waterline and on instinct, you wipe the first to fall away. But more continue to silently slip down his cheeks. Unable to catch them fast enough, you step between his legs and guide his forehead to your shoulder with a gentle hand on the back of his neck.

Seungcheol lets out a shaky breath as your fingers trail down the nape of his neck to just between his shoulders, then back up again. You hold him. Just as you've held his heart for years. Delicate. Like handling glass.

"I love you," He whispers. "I'm sorry I lied, I— all I ever wanted was to keep you safe."

"I know."

He tilts his head back, staring up at you with damp cheeks and bloodshot eyes. "I don't deserve you."

You tuck a piece of hair that's fallen into his eye behind his ear. "I could find you in a thousand lifetimes and there wouldn't be a single one where that'd be true."

"I'd still spend every one of those thousand lifetimes making it up to you." His hands grip your hips, holding you steady, as if he's still scared you'll run away.

"You." You hold the underside of his chin so he can't divert his gaze for your next words. Your tone is a firm, bordering on authoritative. "Make it up to me by coming home."

Seungcheol nods, but it's not a good enough answer for you.

"Don't ever make me plan your funeral, Choi Seungcheol. Do you understand? You cannot do that to me."

"I won't."

"Promise me. Because I swear if I ever have to hear from Jeonghan that you're not coming home I swear I'll—"

Seungcheol takes your hand from his chin and pulls it flat against his chest. The quick but rhythmic beats of his heart calms your barrage of threats instantaneously.

"I promise."

The words leave his lips slowly. Each syllable is enunciated loud and clear, so the sincerity with which he says them can reach your ears without doubt. His words linger in the air and all you can focus on is his pulse. How terrified you are that one day it'll stop before your own. That there could come a night where your head rests against empty sheets instead of his chest. No longer lulled to sleep by its steady beating.

That thought rattles you more than any crime Seungcheol could commit.

It takes Seungcheol's thumb grazing over your cheekbone to realize you're crying. But then it becomes unstoppable. More worries spilling out in the form of tears. It's the not knowing that may be the end of you.

"I want you in this lifetime, Cheol. I don't want to wait until the next to live a full life with you. So I need you to keep that promise."

Seungcheol rises from his seat and brings you into his chest. Allowing you to hide away from the horrors of it all in his strong embrace. "There's nothing I wouldn't do to make it home to you." He reassures. And the sheer determination in his voice makes you believe him.

"And no more secrets, okay?" You mumble against the soft fabric of his shirt. "I want you to tell me everything."

"It's better if I don't." He whispers with a deep exhale. And you want to be more upset with his answer than you are. But he keeps rocking you side to side and pressing long kisses to your temple.

"All you need to know is that none of it comes before you." The sincerity in his voice is as prominent as it was reciting his vows. "Everything I've built. All the money and power in the world— I'd burn it all to the ground for you."

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readwritealldayallnight · 20 days ago

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“-was seventy-five degrees in Phoenix, the sky a perfect, cloudless blue. I was wearing my favourite sh- are you sure you want to listen to this, Si?” You giggled, shutting your book in favour of leaning your cheek against your forearm, tilting your head back far enough to catch Simon’s eye behind you. “I could always read whatever you’ve started, wouldn’t bother me.”

“Not the deal, lovie.” He answers, scooching further up the bed to where you’re laying on your stomach, head just as the edge of the bed so that your arms can comfortably hold the book at eye level. “S’your turn after all. You read me whatever you like.”

It’s true, it is your turn tonight. You forget how long ago this started, though you remember how the idea came about, Simon complaining about his back one evening while the two of you were laying on the couch together, each reading a book, quietly enjoying the others company. He was home for only a few days that time, and you’d insisted that he spend at least a full 24 hours doing nothing but resting and relaxing, a feat easier said than done with that man.

“Why don’t you let me rub your back?” You’d suggested, setting your book down.

“No love, you don’t have to be doin’ that,” he’d shaken his head, though you could see he was doing so reluctantly. His back really was hurting him something fierce. “Besides, I’m at the good part. Don’ wanna put this down just yet.” He’d gestured towards the thick novel in his hands, some war book, of course. His idea of relaxing.

“Oh come on,” you’d insisted, wanting to do this for him. You had tugged the blanket off your lap, coming to stand next to the couch, watching him raise a brow at you. “I can totally massage your back while you read, best of both worlds. Go on, flip over on your stomach.”

“Usually I’m the one tellin’ you tha- hey!” He had obliged you, turning over onto until he’s laying on his front, trying to hid the wince of discomfort that came with the movement. You’d swatted at his ass following his little comment, but your soft hands were already coming to slip under his shirt, skimming along both smooth and scarred skin alike. “But you were enjoyin’ your book too, love.” He tried to protest again, though his eyes were already rolling to the back of his head at the feeling of your touch, loving fingers squeezing at his strong, sore muscles.

“Why don’t you read out loud to me?” You’d suggested to him.

“Not sick o’ my voice yet?”

“Mm, never.” You came to straddle his behind, planting a knee on either side of him, leaning closer to whisper to him. “Favourite sound in the world actually.”

Simon was grateful you couldn’t see his face at this moment, as he was certain he’d gone beet red.

“Well, you let me know when you change your mind.” He grumbled, opening his book back up, clearing his throat and picking up where’d last left off. Three chapters later, your barely noticed how sore your hands were in comparison to how full your heart was, listening to Simon’s voice go from begrudgingly reading the passages to you, his tone slowly gaining enthusiasm as he became lost in the story once more, smiling to himself whenever he’d hear a small noise come from you in reaction to his reading, a gasp of surprise of a hum of agreement.

He’d gone to bed that night and slept better than he had in a long time, back feeling like a dream, and woke up the next day, asking if he could return the favour. Soon, the evening pass time of one of you massaging the other’s back while they read aloud whatever book they’re currently reading, became one of your favourite, most cherished memories with Simon, the tender moment so pure, knowing he looked forward to these small moments as much as you did.

The two of you had gone through so many genres in the last few months, you’d lost track, every type of book being brought off the shelf. Though you didn’t always share the same tastes in books, you could still enjoy the sound of your lover reading something that they love to you. Simon was always a good sport about your picks in particular, but tonight you couldn’t help but question whether he really would want to sit through your pick of the week.

“I’m not even sure if it would be better or worse to have you watch the movie first.” You say, your words nearly coming out in a moan at the end when his strong hands reach a tender spot in your back.

“Jus’ read me the book, cheeky girl, before I try an’ get more o’ them noises out o’ ya.” He decides for you, giving your ass a quick squeeze before returning to his diligent task of rubbing your back.

You decide you’ll listen to the Lieutenant this one time, opening up your book and starting again.

Who knows, maybe Simon will like vampires.

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mononijikayu · 2 months ago

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immortal sukuna who — in your third life (2).

immortal sukuna masterlist

immortal sukuna who doesn’t know how to get close to you after all these lifetimes apart.

immortal sukuna who stands silently under the cherry blossoms, their petals falling like the years that have passed between you.

immortal sukuna who hadn’t seen you in a hundred years, and once more, he is till forced to wait.

immortal sukuna knew that it cannot be, not right now. for you were a married woman, a happy one at that. and it was not with him. not in this life.

immortal sukuna who keeps thinking about how he wants to see you again at court, but you were always away if your husband was not there to keep you company.

immortal sukuna who on days you were there at all, could not keep his eyes off you at any moment.

immortal sukuna who even if you are no longer his to have keeps on loving you from afar.

immortal sukuna who hates how the space between you feels vast, even though your bodies are but a few steps apart.

immortal sukuna who he can sense it: the bond that once held you two together has been severed. you belong to someone else now.

immortal sukuna who still wants to be close to you, who aches to bridge the gap between your worlds, watches as you smile, but not for him.

immortal sukuna who with his immortal heart, yearns to for his heart to beat warmly by your side again.

immortal sukuna wonders how he could do it, for you are no longer the person you were, and he is no longer the man you loved.

immortal sukuna who quickly realized that like before you adored the wonder of prose and poems.

immortal sukuna who remembers the tender way your fingers traced the lines of forgotten texts in the temple gardens.

immortal sukuna remembers the way your eyes lit up when you found a new verse to cherish. it was something simple, something human. so he began to write.

"perhaps...." immortal sukuna murmured to himself one night beneath the moonlit sky, "if i give her what she loves, she'll allow me near once more."

immortal sukuna who now spends nights in his quiet temple chamber, penning poems with the hope that they might find their way to you.

immortal sukuna who knows that his words are filled with longing, with the memories of a time when you were both lost in each other’s worlds.

immortal sukuna who writes about the heartache of a god aching from eternity, the weight of time, and how not even immortality could save him from the pain of losing his beloved.

one day, as your lord husband is away serving the emperor, immortal sukuna approaches your garden. you are seated on a bench, the warm afternoon sun casting light upon your face. you look so peaceful, so distant from the life you once shared with him.

immortal sukuna hesitates, unsure of how to begin, but then he speaks, his voice low and almost hesitant. "i wrote this... for you."

you glance up, startled, but you accept the folded piece of parchment immortal sukuna offers.

"i know what it is like to be....lonely." sukuna continues, watching for any sign of recognition in your eyes. "i thought... perhaps this might reach you with some solace, my lady."

you unfold the poem slowly, reading the words immortal sukuna has labored over for so long. his heart races as he watches your reaction, every moment stretched into eternity.

immortal sukuna who still can't stop wanting you, who doesn’t know if his poems will ever be enough to close the chasm between you, stands silently.

immortal sukuna doesn't expect forgiveness for the past. he doesn’t expect love. but maybe, just maybe, he can still offer you something — even if it’s only the words he writes in the quiet of night.

"i don't expect anything in return, my lady." immortal sukuna whispers, his voice barely audible. "i just wanted to give you something that might make you....smile. at least."

for the first time in forever, you smiled softly, but it's a smile for the poem, not for immortal sukuna. and yet, he hopes it is for him. even if that's a lie.

"thank you, lord general." you whisper to him in the most tender voice. "i....i appreciate your kindness towards me. this is the first time i had ever received such a thing."

immortal sukuna's brows furrowed. "does your lord husband not do such a thing for you, my lady?"

you giggle and then become somber. "i may love my husband, my lord general....but he is a serious man. he is not much a man for prose."

immortal sukuna does not know what to say. but all those times when you both would sit together in your lives together, he had always made sure warm, loving words got to you — from him to you.

immortal sukuna who feels the pain of it all, knowing that you love someone else, stands there, watching the way your eyes trace the lines of his poem.

immortal sukuna who can’t help but wonder if the man you married truly knows the depth of your heart, the way your soul craves more than what mere words or fleeting moments can provide.

immortal sukuna who thinks that the thought eats at him, knowing that your husband could not give you all the universe — not the way sukuna wishes he could, with every star and whisper of the wind built from the love he still holds for you. a love he could never fully describe.

immortal sukuna who shifts slightly, the ache in his chest a familiar companion by now, smiles at you, but it is a smile tinged with centuries of regret and longing.

"then, my lady..." immortal sukuna's voice is soft, almost a murmur, "let me write you more poems... if you should like them."

you look up at immortal sukuna, surprise flickering in your eyes. the tension between you softens just a little.

as though for a moment, you allow yourself to forget the passage of time, the life you have now, the life immortal sukuna no longer belongs to. you say nothing at first, but he sees something — a small glimmer of acceptance.

"would that please you?" immortal sukuna asks, his voice filled with a quiet yearning he can no longer hide. "even if it's all i can offer, i would give you the world in words if it meant you’d smile for me again."

immortal sukuna who waits in silence, wondering if his words can still reach you, if the poems he writes could ever bridge the unbridgeable.

immortal sukuna who knows you belong to another, yet some part of him clings to the hope that maybe, just maybe, you will welcome the small pieces of himself that he is able to give.

you finally nod and then smiled softly. but then you looked away from sukuna. your focus returned to the poems.

and though it is a small gesture, it is enough to keep immortal sukuna's heart from shattering completely.

immortal sukuna who hides the storm of emotions behind that immortal smile, vows to write you more, even if every word reminds him of what he’s lost — and what he can never have again.

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therealmrsgojo · 6 months ago

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Bigger Than The Whole Sky

pairing: gojo satoru x reader content: "Mommy? How much did Daddy love us?" warnings: NSFW, MDNI. established relationship, wife reader, pregnant reader, angst, comfort, canon-divergence. wordcount: 5k

As the soft, caressing night breeze murmurs through the air, two figures lie entwined, seeking solace in each other's arms. They cherish the steady ebb and flow of one another's breath, relishing the warmth and intimacy it bestows.

The weight of the day's challenges had been almost too much for you to bear. The endless routine, the constant demands, the unrelenting pressure to succeed—it had all taken its toll on your mind and body.

But as you felt the familiar scent of your husband, Gojo Satoru, envelop you, it was as if all the weariness and tension melted away, leaving you nothing but comfort.

His touch was like a balm to your soul, easing the ache in your heart and filling you with a deep sense of love and belonging.

The world could spin on its axis, and the stars could twinkle in the sky, but as long as you were in his arms, you knew everything would be alright.

Safe.

He had always made you feel safe.

His phone's ringing broke the peaceful silence, alerting him to a message. You watched as he reached for it on the nightstand, his fingers deftly navigating the screen.

When he leaned in closer, you felt the warmth of his breath and the soft touch of his lips as he placed a tender, affectionate kiss on the side of your head.

His hand then gently moved down, his fingertips tracing a delicate path to caress your small, yet prominent, stomach bump.

You lay perfectly still, willing your eyes to remain shut. Seeing a message flashing on his phone could only mean one thing.

Jujutsu Society.

"Sweetheart?" Satoru's gentle voice whispered to you, concern evident in his tone. "Are you feeling okay?"

"I am," you replied, slowly opening your eyes to the dimly lit room. You locked eyes with him, seeing the worry etched on his face, which elicited your chuckle. "You have worn that concerned expression ever since I became pregnant, Satoru."

He let out a soft chuckle as he gently brushed your hair away from your face, a boyish grin lighting up his features. His deep blue eyes seemed to be committing every detail of you to memory as he spoke, "Naturally, I don't want my precious wife to endure any discomfort, and the well-being of our little one is just as important to me."

He rested his head gently on your belly and showered your bare skin with tender kisses. His touch was so gentle, so loving, that it felt like he was worshipping you in that moment.

You could feel his lips continue to pepper your skin with delicate kisses, each one sending shivers down your spine. The sensation was so intimate, so raw, that it made your heart swell with joy.

The soft strands of his hair felt like silk against your fingertips, and you relished the feeling of being so close to him. It was as if the rest of the world had faded away, leaving just the two of you in your little bubble of happiness.

Loved.

He had always made you feel loved.

"What was that?" You asked, intrigued by the sudden message he had received in the dead of night.

"It's Shibuya," he finally said, his voice low and urgent. "I'm needed."

"What's happening in Shibuya?" you asked, your voice filled with worry.

"I don't know yet," he admitted. "But I have to go. I'll let you know as soon as I can."

You felt your heart rate quicken as you sat in silence with him, unsure of what to say or do. You unconsciously began picking at your nailbeds, a nervous habit you couldn't shake off in moments of discomfort.

"Hey, Y/N," he said softly, reaching for your hands and gently placing them on his cheeks. "I promise this won't take long. Let me quickly go and wake someone up so they can keep you company."

Worry.

His work always made you worried.

"It's okay. There's no need to wake anyone up. I'm just barely five months pregnant, so there's no need to worry about me giving birth or anything like that." You quickly interjected, "Just make sure to return quickly, okay?"

Although you were now the head wife of the Gojo clan, you couldn't help but feel sorry for the servants. They were always at your beck and call, attending to your every need. You knew they had other duties, but they never complained.

Gojo Satoru flashed you a warm smile and replied, "Of course!"

"Good morning, Y/N-sama," Hana, one of the personal maids appointed to attend to your needs, greeted you with a warm smile as she entered the room, carefully holding your freshly laundered robe. "Your bath is ready, with the water at the perfect temperature, and breakfast is being prepared."

The room was bathed in a gentle morning light that filtered through the curtains as you stirred.

With a tender understanding of your struggle with your growing bump, Hana gracefully approached and extended a helping hand to assist you in rising from the bed.

"Is everything okay?"

"Yes, everything's fine. I think they're kicking more these days, though." You said as you stood up. "Is Satoru home yet?"

"He's not, Y/N-sama; we'll let you know if he is."

As a frown etched itself onto your face in response to her words, you turned away and made your way towards the bathroom, dismissing her without a word.

The sound of the door shutting behind you filled the room as you slowly stripped off your clothes and stepped into the warm embrace of the bathtub.

As the water cascaded over you, your mind was filled with thoughts. Guilt gnawed at you for being able to sleep soundly while he was still not home. The weight of worry and concern settled heavily upon your shoulders.

However, as you gazed down at your hand, the sight of your wedding ring momentarily eased your troubled mind. The diamond sparkled and glistened as it caught the light, offering a glimmer of comfort in the midst of your turmoil.

"Alright, but can you give me a second? I'll dress first. I need to go to the bathroom." he removes himself from the bed you two share.

"Okay," you replied, admiring the flexed back muscles in his bare back as he picked up his new clothes and approached the bathroom.

You slowly lifted yourself from the bed, and the cozy sheets clung to your skin. You grabbed your phone from the nightstand, hoping to pass some time. As you scrolled through your notifications, you heard the sound of the bathroom door opening.

You were surprised at how quickly Toru had finished in there. You turn your head in their direction, "That was fast, Toru-"

He approached you with a small box in his hand. Suddenly, he dropped down on one knee, and with trembling hands, he opened the box, revealing a magnificent diamond ring brighter than any jewelry he had ever given you as a present.

The sparkle of the diamond was so intense that it caught your eye and made you gasp in amazement.

You were so taken aback that you dropped your phone, and it clattered to the ground. Your eyes widened with shock, and your hands instinctively flew to your mouth as you gazed into his eyes, trying to make sense of what was happening.

"Some people might choose to do this with a fancy dinner, or on a yacht under the fireworks, or even on the highest building in the world with all the people they know," he began, his voice quivering with nervousness. "And I can do that too. I'll do that for you, too," he laughed softly,

"But, doll, (Y/N)," he paused, taking a deep breath. " I've chosen this place, right here, because waking up with you every morning is the best thing I have ever experienced in my entire life. The way you smile at me every morning and make me feel loved and wanted is a feeling unlike any other." His voice trailed off as he looked deeply into your eyes.

"And I want to do that every day with you," he continued, his voice gaining strength. "I want to be a constant in your life, partner, friend, and your lover. I want to wake up next to you every morning, until my last breath, as your husband." Tears welled up in his eyes as he uttered the following words.

"Will you marry me?" the words left his lips, and a grin appeared your face.

You chuckled softly as you thought back to when Gojo Satoru proposed, feeling warmth wash over you and completely dispelling the earlier worries weighing on your mind.

You had just finished your bath and took the time to carefully select your outfit for the day, feeling refreshed and ready to start your morning. As you reached out to grab your phone and make your way out of your room, the sound of a gentle knock at the door caught your attention.

"Y/N-sama, there is a guest named Shoko waiting for you in the living room," Hana said, bowing respectfully. The unexpected news took you aback.

"Thank you, Hana." You left the room, accidentally leaving your phone behind.

As you strolled through the grand hallway of your sprawling estate, you marveled at the beauty of your surroundings. The walls were adorned with intricate paintings, and the floors were gleaming marble.

You had always known you were lucky to live in such a magnificent place, and it still took your breath away every time you walked through it.

You caught sight of the familiar figure of the brown-haired woman who works alongside your husband.

"Good morning," you greeted warmly as you reached her.

Your smile quickly faded as you saw Shoko's eyes filled with sadness and concern.

Unbeknownst to you, the words she spoke next would shatter your day into a million pieces.

Your husband, Gojo Satoru - was sealed.

In the wake of your husband's sealing and the news of his banishment, you were engulfed by a profound sense of sorrow, leading to an almost three-week seclusion within the confines of your room.

The community he had always protected concluded that he was an accomplice.

The disbelief is overwhelming. It's impossible to fathom. Witnessing firsthand the deep affection he held for those children—his students—it was a sight to behold.

As you slowly unfurled from your curled-up position, every muscle protested against the movement, making it feel like a strenuous effort. Exhaustion bore heavily on your shoulders as you mustered the strength to sit upright.

Weary and bleary-eyed, you rubbed your eyes futilely to dispel the heavy shroud of drowsiness that had enveloped you.

You suddenly became aware of the passing of time. The days had melded into one another, and you were completely lost.

The servants still ensured your well-being, paying extra attention to your nutritional needs. They would bring you warm soups, fresh fruits, and vegetables and encourage you to eat even when you didn't feel like it. They were always there to offer a kind word or a gentle touch, reminding you that you were not alone.

In Satoru's absence, you were the head of the clan, the next one your unborn child. You had never felt more responsible or scared in your life.

Has he carried this responsibility since he was a child?

In his everyday life?

Rising from your seat, you made your way to the full-length mirror in your room, yearning for a glimpse of your own reflection. However, the sight that met your eyes only deepened your sorrow.

Your complexion appeared pallid, drained of its usual vitality, and dark circles underscored your eyes, accentuating the weariness you felt.

Your hair was in disarray, with strands sticking out in every direction and tangled messily. You seemed to have little concern for your appearance, and your heart felt like it was about to shatter into a million pieces.

Everything had been unremarkably normal, and now there was a possibility of never seeing him again.

With a deep, shaky breath, you gently brushed your hair to get up today. The brush's soft bristles glided through your hair, untangling any knots with ease.

Just as you were about to finish, the creaking open door interrupted your peaceful moment. It seemed that the servants of your estate had developed the habit of entering your chambers more frequently as if to ensure your safety.

"Hana, I'm about to head out - "

The room was filled with palpable tension as the sound of the brush hitting the floor echoed through the air, causing an abrupt hush to descend. In that fleeting moment, your eyes widened and your breath caught in your throat as you found yourself locking eyes with Gojo Satoru.

"Toru?" Tears filled your eyes, shimmering with unshed emotion as you struggled to maintain your composure.

Your hands trembled as you instinctively sought to shield the swell of your stomach, your grip tightening around the precious source of strength that had sustained you through it all.

As he takes deliberate steps forward, his intense, piercing blue eyes sweep over you, lingering on every detail from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. It's as if he fears that any contact with him could cause you to fade away.

"I came home as soon as I could," he whispered, his voice barely audible. For the first time in your life, you witnessed tears streaming down his cheeks.

His eyes, usually so bright and full of life, were filled with sorrow and regret. "I'm sorry for leaving you two all alone," he said, his voice choked with emotion.

You melted into his embrace, feeling a rush of emotion flood you. Your body trembled with sobs as you buried your face against his chest, finding it difficult to articulate the depth of your feelings.

Holding him tightly, you couldn't help but observe his changes – the maturation of his physique and the palpable strength of his developed muscles as he enveloped you in his arms.

Home.

Being in his arms is home.

The obstetrician greeted you warmly and said, "I'm going to apply a little cold gel," as they carefully positioned the small transducer on your 6-month-pregnant belly. "Let's see if we can coax the baby out—it looks like they're being a bit shy and hiding."

The dimly lit room was filled with nervous excitement as the doctor continued maneuvering the wand over your belly. Then, suddenly, the ultrasound screen flickered to life, and the image of your little one came into view.

"They might be doing some jujutsu moves inside, honey," your husband, Gojo Satoru, whispered into your ear, a sly smirk on his lips. His eyes were fixed on the screen, hands warmly holding your right one, and when the baby moved, you noticed his mouth slightly open in awe.

You turned your head to the screen and marveled at the sight of your tiny, wiggling miracle.

The tiny arms, legs, fingers, and toes all move in unison. The doctor continued to point out different features, explaining each detail as you watched in amazement.

"Congratulations, you are having a boy."

It's been a few days since your husband finally returned home after what seemed like an eternity. Despite the chaos, your husband has created a peaceful haven for the two of you.

The nursery is a testament to his dedication and attention to detail. The walls are painted a soft, soothing shade of blue, and the shelves are filled with books and toys that he carefully selected for your little one.

The crib is draped in a delicate canopy, and the bedding is soft and cozy. Everything regarding your soon-to-be-bearing has already been taken care of.

It's as if he's on a mission to show his love and dedication to you and your soon-to-arrive child with meaningful actions every single day.

Every minute detail had been thought through and prepared with utmost care. Each day, he devoted himself to ensuring your well-being, starting with a gentle morning bath and ending with a soothing back massage that would lull you to sleep in the comfort of his loving embrace.

In the beginning, it caused a sense of unease. It felt like he was preparing to depart in the near future. However, your husband took the time to console you and assure you that his intention was merely to spare you any distress during the final months of your pregnancy in case he were to sustain an injury.

You were informed about his fight on December 24th. Despite your disagreement and your persistent refusal to support him, he assured you that he would win.

You believe.

You have always believed him.

The sun dipped below the horizon, the two of you settled in for the evening, seeking rest after a day filled with activity.

Satoru's lips met yours, and you felt a surge of pleasure coursing through your body. His kisses were always so gentle and tender, yet so passionate at the same time. You kissed him back, savoring his lips' taste and his breath's warmth.

His tongue pushed against your lips, asking for entrance, and you eagerly obliged.

Your heart raced as you felt his lips move down to your neck, planting kisses and leaving behind small, purple bruises. "I'm sorry," he slurred, muffled words against your skin. "I need you."

Now wide awake, you watched as he slowly tugged the duvet covers over your naked body, his lips trailing down to your chest.

He took one of your nipples in his mouth, his delicate licks making it harden. His other hand teased and tweaked the other nipple, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

"Relax, my wife," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. "I'm going to take care of you."

He continued to suck on your sensitive nipples, twirling his tongue around them and moaning softly. His cock grew hard as he switched to the other nipple, giving it the same treatment.

"I want to taste you," he mumbled, his lips touching your stomach. His long fingers caressed your womanhood, eliciting a soft gasp from you. He positioned himself between your thighs, using his thumb to part your cunt and expose your clit. "Can I taste you, Y/N?"

"Yy-yes." You moaned as he began to lick and suck on your clit, his tongue moving in circles and causing waves of pleasure to wash over you. Your hands gripped the sheets as he continued to pleasure you, his fingers slipping inside you and making you writhe with pleasure.

He leaves your clit alone, but his tongue finds its way to the rest of your pussy. His tongue traces your folds, your slit, and the inside of your walls. He was leaving no parts untouched by his warm mouth. He was licking every drop.

You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, and then you were tumbling over it, your body convulsing with pleasure as Satoru continued to pleasure you with his mouth and hands.

"Mm, Satoru," as his skilled tongue continued to explore every inch of you, sending shivers down your spine.

Your eyes were wide open, taking in every sensation as he delved deeper. His tongue continued lapping at your most sensitive areas, sending electrifying pulses of pleasure throughout your body.

As if that wasn't enough, his fingers began to apply gentle pressure, adding to the intensity. You felt your legs start to tremble uncontrollably as the pleasure built inside you. "Tastes so sweet."

You could feel yourself getting close to the brink of orgasm. Your breath quickened, and your cries became louder with each passing second. You knew you were on the verge of release, and he seemed to sense it, too.

"I'm close," With one final push, he pressed harder, driving you over and into a world of pure pleasure. As you exploded in ecstasy, your body shook with the force of your orgasm, and you cried out in delight.

Satoru continued to lavish and clean you, his tongue working tirelessly to taste your release. "So fcking sweet,"

Panting and gasping for breath, you feel him move his body on top of yours, his lips pressing against yours as he positions himself at your entrance.

You can feel your heart racing as your body responds to his touch. You wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer to you, and feel his body shudder with pleasure.

He carefully lifts your legs, making sure not to put too much pressure on your bump, and places them around his waist, slowly sinking his length inside you.

"My sweet wife," he whispered into your ear, his voice low and husky. "So warm." He moved in and out of you, his grunts and moans filling the air as he lost himself in the pleasure of your body.

"You feel so good," he murmured, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he thrust harder and faster.

"Mm-more, Satoru," You arch your back and push your hips up to meet his, feeling his length still sliding in and out of you with increasing speed.

He responded by picking up the pace, repositioning himself deeper inside you, pressing you into the mattress, and giving kisses to your face and neck as he continued to rail you, his movements becoming more urgent but careful.

"I'm going to come, doll." he cursed, his hands gripping your body tightly as he felt his orgasm building.

You could feel his length pulsing inside you, his release painting your walls white as he continued to move, putting back his spilled seed with each thrust, making you gasp as you feel your second orgasm.

Basking in the afterglow of your lovemaking, your husband excused himself to the bathroom. You heard running water and assumed he was cleaning himself up. A few moments later, he returned with a warm, damp cloth.

You watched as he approached you, eyes full of love and tenderness. His touch was gentle as he used the cloth to remove any remnants.

He took his time, cleaning every inch of your body with utmost care.

He wiped away the last trace of sweat from your skin and looked up at you with a soft smile. "I love you so much," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I love you too," you replied, your voice filled with emotion. You reached out to stroke his cheek, feeling the softness of his skin beneath your fingertips.

"Please remember what I'm about to tell you," Gojo Satoru's voice resonated with unwavering determination as he imparted his instructions. "Don't make yourself watch. It will only burden you needlessly. I'll be back home before you know it."

His slender, ethereal hands tenderly cradled your tear-streaked face, gently brushing away the traces of your distress. You found ease in his embrace, unable to contain your sobs, fully aware that nothing could deter him from his path.

"After this, I promise I will retire," he said with a shaky chuckle, his voice tinged with emotion. The sight of you shaking was overwhelming, and the thought of you crying scared him more than his upcoming battle with Sukuna.

"We can move anywhere you want, and we'll be together every day with our son," he reassured you as he enveloped you in a warm, comforting hug, soothing you with gentle strokes of your hair. He shifted closer, nuzzling into your hair and holding you tightly.

"I'll always be by your side," he whispered softly, his words etching on your mind. "Forever."

If you knew this would be your final conversation with him, you would have desperately grasped at any words or actions to keep him from leaving.

You stride in your well-worn white running shoes, and the rhythmic thud of each footfall echoes through the empty corridors, creating a symphony of sound that fills the space around you.

He never liked your heels.

He never liked how discomforting it is for your feet.

Your tears are flowing down your cheeks, and there's a lump in your throat that hasn't left ever since you heard the news. Your breathing is rapid, shallow, and filled with fear.

Your breath.

You no longer want to take.

The world around you was shrouded in unfamiliarity; the edges of your vision blurred as you moved forward. Despite the disorientation, your body seemed to be operating on autopilot, effortlessly navigating through the haze as if driven by an unseen force.

Every step you took felt heavy, like some instinctual knowledge guided you through this place.

He clings to you.

As much as he can.

"Y/N," Shoko Ieiri's voice sounded from the background. Her face was solemn as she gazed back at you with a serious expression.

"I can go with her; please follow me, Y/N-san." Ijichi, the person who had come to fetch you from the confines of your home, whispered beside you. He walked past, and you felt your feet involuntarily follow him, afraid he would disappear.

The woman with brown hair gazed down at your swollen, pregnant belly, and the sight was so overwhelming that she nearly lost her balance.

You brushed past her, paying no mind to her or anyone else - the curious stares of the students as you made your way through the corridors of Jujutsu High.

Your fists were tightly clenched at your sides as you followed the man in the suit, your thoughts consumed by only one person.

Gojo Satoru.

Ijichi paused before a shining silver door, the light catching its reflective surface. He turned towards you, a grave expression on his face. "We've arrived," he said, his voice tinged with regret as he bowed deeply. "I apologize."

You could feel the tears prickling at the corners of your eyes as you whispered, "I want to be alone with him, please." You couldn't bear the thought of anyone else witnessing this moment of raw vulnerability.

With trembling hands, you pushed open the door and stepped inside. The room was quiet, except for the machines' soft hum and lightning.

You could see him lying there, his form still and peaceful beneath the pristine white sheet. The fabric was smooth and unblemished, without a wrinkle to mar its surface.

"My baby," you whispered, your voice breaking as you approached his body. You reached out tentatively, afraid that the slightest touch would disrupt the peaceful tableau before you. But you felt sadness and longing as your fingers brushed against his skin. "My sweet baby," you cried, pulling him close to your chest. "How can I go on without you?"

"Please don't leave me." Tears streamed down your face as you grieved for your husband, desperately yearning to hear his voice or feel his comforting, warm hug when he sensed your sadness once more. "Please come back."

But there was no response, no flicker of movement or sound. Your husband was gone, and all that remained was the shell of his body.

Amid your suffering, you felt a sudden kick from within your stomach.

It seems that your son may have felt your tears, weeping about his father, whom he will never have the chance to meet.

"Mommy?" Rapid footsteps echoed through the hallway as your 5-year-old son dashed across the wooden floor, his little voice filled with urgency.

"Tohru, no running!" You called out, pausing from chopping the carrots as you felt a tinge of concern at the tone of his voice. "Hana, could you please continue chopping these carrots for me?"

Hana smiled warmly and nodded in agreement, gracefully taking over the task. Her skilled hands moved with precision as she seamlessly continued the work you had started.

While going from the kitchen to the living room, your son's voice fills the air, creating a comforting and familiar ambiance. Your gaze was drawn to a large wedding photograph that halted your steps, capturing your attention with its timeless beauty and significance.

In the picture, a white-haired man beamed with joy as he gazed at his wife, their expressions capturing a depth of love that seemed to transcend everything else.

The way they looked at each other spoke volumes about their enduring bond and connection, leaving a lasting impression on anyone who beheld the photograph.

It was your favorite picture.

It still made your heart stop.

"Mommy," Your son ran up to you and wrapped his little arms around your legs, making you chuckle at his enthusiasm. You knelt down to his height, pinching his chubby cheeks and feeling the warmth of his embrace. His bright blue eyes shone with curiosity and innocence.

"Sakura told me her father loved her so much. Like as big as a tree!" he exclaimed, gesturing widely to emphasize the enormity of his friend's father's love. "How about us? How much did Daddy love us?"

You tenderly swept aside his silky, snow-white hair, cherishing this special moment with your son. A gentle smile lit up your face as you wholeheartedly responded to his question without any hesitation.

"His love for us was bigger than the whole sky."

author's note: I never knew a fictional character would have this impact on my life. gojo satoru, no matter what they say, was my favourite. whatever hopes I had for gege's redemption on his writing is now officially gone; I am dropping jjk. I don't even want to watch the anime anymore. I just got up today to write my own version of his passing, with canon-divergence.

he will forever have a place in my heart. my baby deserves so much better. :(

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robinsfilm · 3 months ago

Text

CARNATION LETTERS

pairing: Jason Todd ✗ gn!reader.

summary: In which Jason, struggling with words, leaves you heartfelt notes hidden in bouquets of carnations, each one revealing more of his feelings for you.

warnings: none, just fluff and the authors poor knowledge of flowers, ++ no proofreading my head hurts way to much for that :⁠-⁠[

word count: 1.2k.

notes: sorry for my inactivity for the past few days. i wasn't feeling so well. though here is the fic idea that won the last vote! i really like this one, i hope you guys will as well. idk ab the color meanings when it comes to carnations, i tried my best here (⁠T⁠T⁠)

♯ MASTERLIST ; NAVIGATION

You’d always heard that love was in the little things—the small, thoughtful gestures that spoke louder than words ever could.

The fleeting touch of a lover on ones back when in a crowd, the shy, stolen glances, the nervous, shaking attempts at holding their hands in ones own.

You think that Jason's love is a garden, carefully tended and nurtured. It started with seeds of trust and affection, growing slowly but steadily with time and care. Like flowers, it bloomed in different seasons, offering sweet gestures to you–the love of his life.

For you, those gestures came in the form of carnations, delicate and vibrant, appearing at the most unexpected times.

Whether it was in the quiet of a morning, the stillness of night, or a surprise that broke the monotony of your day, Jason had a way of making you feel cherished without needing to say a word.

Each bouquet carried with it a note, sometimes playful, sometimes sincere, but always filled with the emotions he found difficult to express otherwise.

And each time you found one, it was as if the world around you paused, allowing you to savor the moment, knowing that Jason’s heart was in every petal.

*****

The morning sun filtered through the curtains as you shuffled into the kitchen, still half-asleep.

On the table, next to your coffee mug, was a small bouquet of carnations tied with a simple ribbon.

As you reached for the note, Jason’s voice interrupted your thoughts. 'Good morning,' he murmured from the doorway, his arms crossed casually, a soft smile on his lips.

'Do you like them?' he asked, watching as you unfolded the note, your heart warming at his thoughtful gesture.

At times like this you felt a feeling so strong and warm envelope your heart, you couldn't speak a word.

'Remember that day we spent in the park? These carnations reminded me of that. Can’t wait to make more memories with you.'

Still holding the bouquet in your hands, your touch would softly graze the petals.

'I love them.' You softly spoke, 'let's go out today, I want to start making even more memories with you.'

*****

A knock at your door broke the quiet of your afternoon. Opening it, you found Jason leaning against the doorframe, a bouquet of carnations in one hand, and a casual smirk on his face.

'I thought you might need a pick-me-up,' he said, passing you the flowers. 'And maybe some company?' You stepped aside to let him in, the familiar warmth of his presence making the day instantly brighter.

Perhaps it was instinct, because as soon as the bouquet was in your hands your eyes started searching for the note. Nestled in the white–red colored petals of the carnations was a small note.

'Your company is always welcomed.' you gave him small smile while opening and reading the note.

'Thought you might need something pretty to look at today, besides me, of course.'

You let out a small chuckle. Jason's smile almost reaches his eyes as he watches you.

'Feeling cheeky, aren't we?' you said, 'I prefer looking at you, though.'

'You're lucky I'm here then, aren't you?' he replies, while taking your hands in his and bringing you closer.

'That I am.'

*****

You were getting ready for bed when you heard a soft knock at your window. Peeking out, you found Jason standing there, a lopsided grin on his face.

'Need some company?' he asked, climbing inside with surprising ease, a bouquet of carnations in hand.

'Couldn't sleep without seeing you first,' he admitted, handing you the flowers.

As you took them, his fingers brushed yours, lingering for just a moment longer than necessary.

'You're lucky you brought me the flowers, or I wouldn't have let you in.' you teased.

'Using the door is overrated.' he let out a small laugh, teal–green eyes shifting from the flowers to you. He gestured for you to read the note.

'You know, these carnations aren’t half as beautiful as you, but I figured they’d do until I get back.'

You could feel the heat slowly rise to your cheeks after reading the note, a dopey grin covers your face. Damn him and his smart mouth. By the way Jason proudly smiled at you, he probably saw your flustered reaction too.

His heart sings everytime he sees you happy, everytime he manages to make you shy or bold with his gifts. He'll do it all over again, just for you to smile.

*****

You were sorting through old boxes when you found it—a dried bouquet of carnations, carefully preserved. As you held them, Jason walked into the room, noticing the flowers in your hands.

'You kept those?' he asked, a mix of surprise and affection in his voice. 'I didn’t think they’d mean that much to you.'

You looked up at him, the memory of that moment still fresh in your mind. 'They do,' you replied softly, setting the flowers down as he came closer, his hand resting gently on your shoulder.

'They mean so much to me.' you say softly. 'Every one of them are a reminder of you and your love. They mean as much to me as much as I seek out your love.'

Your words seem to make him speechless. They ring in his mind again and again. The sound of them covers him in a feeling of warmth he can't explain.

So he let's his hand rest on your cheek. It's a small gesture. The calloused feel familiar on your skin. You feel your skin warm up at his touch. You bring your hand to cover his.

No words are needed. Everything said in the small gestures between you and Jason.

The note lays next to the red–pink carnations. The ink dark red dances across the dusty paper.

'You make my world a better place, and I’m so grateful for you.'

#jason todd fanfiction #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x gender neutral reader #jason todd needs a hug #jason todd fluff #fluff #dc comics #jason todd imagine #jason todd prompt #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood imagine #dc fluff #dc x reader #dc red hood #batfamily

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starmapz · 4 months ago

Text

❝ in which choso kamo asks if you think he's a good person ❞ ❦ cw ; gn!reader. fluff. angst if you squint really hard. hurt/comfort if you squint. mild allusions to the shibuya event. ❦ words ; 886

masterlist

Sun warms your skin as it shines through the sheer curtains at the side of the living room. The sounds of summer cicadas can just barely be heard over the sounds of the TV, though it’s all white noise as you read a book.

Your boyfriend Choso sits beside you on the couch in your shared home, his mild expression stuck on the TV with a controller in his hands.

It’s moments like these that you cherish, enjoying one another’s company in the shared silence. It’s serene and a welcome break from the bustling world of curses and sorcerers.

Choso’s strangely fidgety today and it doesn’t go unnoticed by you, though he brushes you off whenever you ask if he’s okay.

That is, until he blurts out a question that catches you strangely off-guard.

“Do you think I’m a bad person?”

He’s paused his game, the controller now in his lap as he looks at you expectantly. You can see the turmoil within him swirling in his deep mahogany eyes.

You close your book, blinking at him with eyes wide from shock. It’s not unusual for Choso to question his humanity and you’ll spend a lifetime reassuring him of such, but it’s not often he questions his morality.

“Where’s this coming from, Cho?” You ask softly with a tilt of your head, watching the way he runs a hand through his shoulder-length hair hanging in front of his face to keep it out of his vision.

Clearing his throat, he stares thoughtfully at the paused TV. “It just… came up recently.”

You follow his gaze, processing his words before it clicks with you that it must have come up in whatever he was playing.

“I see,” you hum, shooting him a soft smile as you take his hands in yours.

Choso attentively watches your movements as you turn to fully face him, curling his fingers into yours as he seeks your comfort.

“Everyone has to make tough decisions,” you begin, running your thumbs over his knuckles. “They aren’t always the right ones and that’s something that not just you but everyone has to live with.”

Your boyfriend is silent, watching you with wide eyes from beneath dark lashes. His nose wrinkles as sordid memories of his past actions race through his mind.

“Our line of work isn’t kind, baby.” Your smile is bittersweet. He knows you don’t want to sugarcoat his actions. You’ve spoken with him about it before, that it’s better to learn from mistakes than to ignore them or pretend they didn’t happen. “But you’re allowed to have regrets.”

He swallows hard, his adam’s apple bobbing before he takes a breath and stares at your entwined hands as he processes what you’ve said.

You set your closed book and his controller on the coffee table in one slow movement. Gentle, you’re always so gentle and patient with him. It’s one of many things he appreciates, and more so loves about you.

“So, you don’t think I’m a bad person?”

“All I know is that I love you,” you respond without hesitation.

The pinched point in Choso’s brow relaxes as he watches the way you regard him with such tender adoration. Your love is what matters most to him, everything else comes second. You’re family. You’re home.

“I love you too,” he hums, pulling you into one of his signature bear hugs and reveling in the way you giggle in his toned arms. When he pulls back, warmth flows through his blood, his bones, as you cup his cheeks and pull him down for a soft, reassuring kiss.

“Choso, you’re human.”

He nods, his thumbs running mindless circles against the skin beneath your shirt where his hands are now firmly planted.

“The most human thing anyone can do is make mistakes. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

Finally, a smile spreads over Choso’s features, and god he’s so gorgeous. His lips quirk up, his brow and lidded eyes relaxing into the comfort of your embrace.

“I’m human,” he repeats with a sigh, nodding to himself.

You smile at the way he so gently accepts and embraces your words, and despite the nature of the conversation, you’re grateful for little moments like these. You’re grateful that Choso feels comfortable enough to come to you when he feels this way.

Most of all, you’re grateful to have such a kind boyfriend with a caring heart.

Your boyfriend pulls you into his lap, burying his face into the crook of your neck as his eyes flutter shut. He takes in a breath and you feel his chest rise and fall behind you, his pulse quickening at the feeling of your skin against his as he wraps his arms around your middle beneath your shirt.

“I love you.” His words are muffled by your skin, his breath warm against your neck.

You can’t help but smile at his heartfelt words. No matter how often he says those three words (which is very often), it never fails to make your heart soar and your stomach flutter.

Because if there’s one thing you know about Choso, it’s that his family is his priority. You’re his priority, and just as you’ll spend a lifetime reassuring him of his humanity, he’ll spend a lifetime proving his love for you.

“I love you too.”

masterlist

❦ a/n ; just a little thing floating around in my mind and wanted to give choso some love ♡

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pretzel-box · 3 months ago

Text

The Third Month

Words: 3,2k

Tags: Lots of fluff, comfort, affection, established relationship, seabunny hybrid reader, reader is FEMALE, DO NOT READ WITH A FAINT HEART I WARN YOU

status: NOT PROOF READ OR EDITED.

authors note: Thank you all for 100 followers!!♡

It's been a month since the lockdown began, and your life took a drastic turn when you were picked up by none other than Sebastian Solace himself. Before that day, you had been on your own, treated like nothing more than a lab rat by Urbanshade—a mere experiment in their endless quest for progress. Your memories of the world outside the Hadal Blackside were foggy at best, but one thing you knew for certain: you were different now. A sea bunny hybrid, with soft, pale skin, black freckles and delicate, fluttering appendages on your head that set you apart from the rest of humanity. You had always felt out of place, even before the experiments, but now, you doubted society would ever accept someone as strange as you.

When the lockdown happened, and someone—no, he—freed all the experiments, including you, it felt like a new beginning. With nowhere else to go, you found yourself gravitating toward the one person who had shown you kindness in this forsaken underwater facility.The sea-serpent merchant, had opened his shop to you, offering you more than just shelter. He gave you purpose. Over the past four weeks, you had thrown yourself into helping him run his little store, finding comfort in the routine and the company of the mysterious man who had saved you.

During that time, something unexpected happened. Your cheerful, excited nature, a trait that had once felt like a burden in a world that demanded seriousness and submission, became a source of warmth in Sebastian’s otherwise cold and calculated life. You didn’t notice it at first—how his glances lingered longer, how his touch became gentler, or how his voice softened whenever he spoke to you. But he noticed. The walls he had built around himself began to crumble, and before he knew it, he had fallen hard for you.

And now, here you were, sitting side by side in his shop, the dim lights casting a warm glow over the two of you. Your days had become a blend of work and stolen moments of affection. The once-stoic sea-serpent was now your partner, keeping you safe and secure in all this giant mess.

You ran up to him, your heart pounding in anticipation, arms outstretched for the embrace you had been longing for as if you hadn't seen him in years. Every step you took was fueled by the yearning that had built up during your time apart, a craving for his touch, his warmth, his affection. When you finally reached him, it felt like everything inside you lit up, a warm, comforting feeling spreading through your chest as your emotions surged, deep and intense.

Sebastian caught you effortlessly, his strong arms wrapping around you as he lifted you off the ground. The way he held you—his hands gently cradling your waist—was so tender, so full of care, that you felt an immediate sense of belonging, like you were finally home. It was a sensation you cherished, one that you had come to associate with him alone.

“I’m back!” you exclaimed, your voice bubbling with excitement. As you looked at him, your eyes couldn’t help but trace every detail of his face, illuminated softly by the glow of his anglerfish lure. The dim light highlighted his sharp features, and you marveled at the way it brought out the depths of his fluorescent blue eyes. Those eyes, which had once seemed so distant, were now a comforting ocean in which you could easily get lost.

“Welcome back,” he replied in that deep, soothing voice of his, and as he leaned in, he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. It was a simple gesture, but one that meant everything to you. This forehead kiss had become a cherished ritual, a sign of his affection that greeted you every time you returned from one of your little expeditions. The moment felt timeless, as if the world outside the two of you didn’t exist, leaving just the warmth of his embrace and the comforting familiarity of his presence.

As he set you down gently, his hands lingered on your waist, and you felt the heat rise to your cheeks. The bond between you had grown so much over time, and it was moments like these that made you realize just how deeply you had fallen for him. The affection you felt was almost overwhelming, filling every corner of your heart as you looked into his eyes, knowing that he felt the same way too.

"Hey, Sebby," you called out, using the nickname that had taken him some time to get used to. "Are you ever going to admit that you love my company as much as I love yours?"

He looked up from his work, his deep blue eyes meeting yours with a mixture of exasperation and fondness. "You're insufferable," he grumbled, but the slight curve of his lips betrayed him.

"And you wouldn’t have it any other way," you shot back with a grin.

He chuckled softly, shaking his head as he returned to his task. "You’ve turned my world upside down, you know that?"

"Good," you replied, moving closer to him. "Because you’ve done the same for me."

You reached out, your fingers brushing against his arm. The simple touch sent a shiver through you, a reminder of how much you cared for him. In the dim light of the shop, with the familiar scent of sea salt and old files around you, everything felt perfect—like this was exactly where you were meant to be.

One of the many things Sebastian adored about you was your genuine curiosity for the things he did. He appreciated how you made an effort to understand his hobbies, so you could spend more time with him without disrupting his work. One of these hobbies was the skill of repairing broken devices, like flashlights and codebreakers. Fixing them for his shop was a crucial task, and you took on the challenge with excitement, eager to earn his praise.

“Like this?” you asked, sitting at the table with his tail serving as your seat. His head hovered above yours, casting a warm glow over your workspace with his anglerfish lure and guiding you. Two of his large hands rested on your waist out of habit, while his third hand assisted you in repairing the blacklight in front of you.

“Hold it steady, bunny,” he murmured with a smile, leaning his chin gently on top of your hair.

“I almost have it—” you began, but were interrupted by a sudden cough, quickly raising your arm to cover your mouth.

Sebastian’s focus shifted immediately as he heard your cough. The sound was soft but sharp enough to cut through the peaceful atmosphere of your shared workspace. His tail tensed slightly beneath you, and his hands instinctively tightened their grip on your waist. He had grown accustomed to your energy, your excitement, and the way you threw yourself into learning his trade. But lately, there had been small signs—moments of fatigue, occasional coughing spells, a distant look in your eyes—that he couldn’t quite ignore.

He leaned down closer, his anglerfish lure casting a gentle glow over your face. “Are you okay?” His deep voice was laced with concern, even as he tried to keep his tone casual.

You nodded quickly, trying to brush it off as nothing. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just got a bit of dust in my throat, that’s all.”

You were so determined, so eager to help, and he loved that about you. It made his heart swell with pride every time you managed to fix something on your own, the look of accomplishment on your face more precious to him than any treasure in his shop.

“Alright,” he said softly. “Just be careful. You don’t want to damage the circuit.”

You smiled up at him, grateful for his patience and guidance. “I got this,” you assured him, turning your attention back to the task at hand.

Sebastian watched you work, his chin still resting gently on top of your head. He couldn’t help but marvel at how natural it felt to have you there, sitting on his tail, leaning into him for warmth and support. The way you fit into his life so seamlessly was something he hadn’t expected, but now that he had you, he couldn’t imagine things any other way. Your curiosity, your determination to learn his skills, and the way you always seemed to know just what he needed—these were the things that made him fall for you, deeper every day.

“Almost there,” you murmured, your focus back on the blacklight. You carefully soldered the last connection, and with a satisfied smile, you held it up for Sebastian to see. “I think it’s fixed!”

He grinned, his sharp teeth gleaming in the soft light. “That’s my girl,” he praised, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head. “You did great.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you leaned back against him, basking in the warmth of his approval.

Two months had passed, and it had become a personal ritual for you to gather every blanket, pillow, and soft item you could find in the facility to create a giant, cozy nest to sleep in. The Hadal Blacksite was hardly known for its comfort, especially after the lockdown, so you took it upon yourself to transform the back of Sebastian’s shop into a haven of warmth and peace.

Wrapped in layers of blankets, only your head peeked out from the mound, your sea bunny antennae twitching slightly. Sebastian often glanced over at you with a mix of amusement and affection.

“You sleep a lot lately, bunny,” he chuckled, setting aside the file he had been reading. “I might start to think you love that pile of blankets more than me at this point.”

You responded with a soft hum, barely lifting your head from the sea of fabric. The words were true; you had been spending an increasing amount of time resting and lounging around. Sometimes, you sprawled out on the floor like a starfish, and Sebastian had to gently pick you up to avoid any mishaps, like an expandable accidentally stepping on your delicate form.

Despite his teasing, there was a warmth in his eyes every time he looked at you. He cherished these moments of quiet companionship, even if they were punctuated by the gentle, playful banter.

The sight of you, nestled in your cozy pile of blankets, was so inviting that sometimes Sebastian couldn’t resist closing the shop earlier than usual. He’d join you in your fortress of softness, slipping into the pile of fabric with a contented sigh. Laying beside you, he would hold you close, his tail gently wrapping around your body as he settled in. His hands would drift to your antennae, where he’d softly massage the space between them, eliciting a delighted hum from you.

The two of you would lie there, not quite sleeping but basking in the warmth of each other's presence. Occasionally, Sebastian would lightly brush a stray strand of hair from your face or press a soft kiss to your temple, the gentle touches filled with affection. Your fingers would intertwine with his, and you’d both enjoy the peaceful silence, simply resting and savoring the comfort of being close.

In those moments, time seemed to slow down. You’d share lazy smiles, exchanging barely a word and just stay in a comforting silence. Sometimes, Sebastian would rest his chin on top of your head, and you’d sigh contentedly, your body relaxing further into the embrace...

Three months into your time together, on what seemed like an average day, Sebastian was out scavenging for supplies. He moved through the abandoned corridors with practiced ease, his eyes darting around with a sharp, attentive gaze. Each room he passed was briefly examined, every locker and shelf scrutinized for forgotten treasures and useful items.

As he rifled through the remnants of the old world, his attention was suddenly caught by a flash of something pristine—an untouched pillow, perfectly intact and just waiting to be added to your growing collection. For a split second, the sight of it seemed almost like a beacon, calling out to him with a soft glow of potential.

Sebastian had developed a little habit during these scavenger runs. He wouldn’t admit it, but his gift-giving had become a personal love language. While his primary goal was to find useful items for the shop, he also kept an eye out for anything that might make you smile. The way your eyes would light up with delight over even the simplest of things he brought back was a source of pure joy for him. It motivated him to turn part of his shop into a mini-storage of items he thought you’d like.

He carefully picked up the pillow, examining it with a satisfied nod before tucking it away in his bag. As he continued his search, he found himself thinking of you, imagining your reaction when you’d see this new addition to your cozy pile. The thought made him smile, his heart warming at the idea of bringing a bit more comfort to your world.

Returning to the shop, Sebastian's thoughts were occupied with the joy of seeing you unwrap the pillow. He could almost hear your excited gasp and see the way you’d curl up around it, adding yet another layer of softness to your makeshift haven. This small act of thoughtfulness was his way of showing you how much he cared, a tender gesture that spoke louder than words.

But then, amidst his searching, a sound shattered the fragile calm of the room. It was your voice, but not the cheerful, soothing tones he was used to. No, this was something far more harrowing. It was a desperate cry, a soul-wrenching scream that cut through the silence with a visceral, agonizing intensity. The sheer pain in your voice twisted his insides, making him feel as though his heart was being torn apart.

His ears twitched uncontrollably as he followed the sound, his steps becoming erratic and frantic. Each groan, each whimper, seemed to resonate with a chilling echo down the empty corridors. It was a haunting, relentless reminder of the suffering you were enduring. When he finally reached the source, he was met with a sight that stole the breath from his lungs. There you were, writhing in unimaginable pain, a tormented silhouette against the wall, your body contorted as if it were being torn apart from the inside.

Sebastian's vision blurred, and he felt a deep, gut-wrenching sorrow clawing at him. His mind raced back to the harsh truth he had desperately tried to suppress. He had known this day might come, had seen the ominous warnings in your medical file, but he had held onto a fragile hope—a hope that maybe, just maybe, things wouldn’t turn out this way. The file had warned him: your body was rejecting the sea bunny DNA.

The brutal irony of it all struck him with the force of a physical blow. All those scavenging trips, all the time he spent gathering trinkets and comforts for you, now seemed like a cruel, pointless exercise. The pillow he had so eagerly picked out for you, an innocent symbol of his affection, now felt like a mockery of your suffering.

As he reached out to you, the sight of your anguish was more than he could bear. It was as if his heart was being shredded with each cry of pain that escaped you. The agonizing truth was undeniable: you were slipping away from him, and no amount of love, no matter how fiercely he gave it, could alter the cruel fate that was unfolding.

Tears streamed down his face as he just stared at you, the pillow he had hoped would bring you comfort now a stark reminder of his helplessness. The realization that he was losing you, that he had to watch you suffer with nothing he could do to alleviate your pain, left him paralyzed with a sorrow so profound it seemed to stretch on endlessly.

He had been aware from the start that your time together was limited, but the crushing weight of that reality was more devastating than he had ever imagined. Seeing you in such excruciating agony, coupled with the crushing despair that his efforts to provide you comfort could not change the inevitable, left him feeling utterly and irrevocably shattered.

The thing that must have pained him the most was the cruel illusion he had woven around you. From the very beginning, you had been blissfully unaware of the full extent of your condition, shielded from the grim reality that had been kept from you. Urbanshade had long marked you as a lost cause, a waste of resources. They had kept you alive with medication, but the moment the lockdown had sealed off your lifeline, your fate had been sealed.

And it was Sebastian Solace, with a heavy heart and trembling hands, who had become the unwilling cause of your cruel reality. He had rescued you from the clutches of Urbanshade, pulling you into his life and making you live in these bittersweet conditions. He kept you at his side, sheltered you from the harsh truth, knowing full well that you were slowly, agonizingly, slipping away. He watched as your body rejected the very essence that made you unique, watched as the vibrant spirit he had fallen in love with was gradually consumed by pain.

The agony of it all was compounded by the facade he had maintained. To you, he was a beacon of love and stability, the one who had given you a new home, a new life. He had filled your days with small joys, with gifts and affection, all while knowing that each moment with you was a stolen fragment of time, a fleeting respite before the inevitable. He loved you too much to shatter the fragile world you had come to depend on, too much to burden you with the unbearable truth of your condition.

Every smile he saw on your face, every look of contentment in your eyes, was a dagger to his heart. The pain of watching you suffer, coupled with the torment of knowing he had to perpetuate the lie to keep you at peace, was a weight he carried in silence. He had given you comfort, affection, and a semblance of normalcy, all while knowing that it was a temporary reprieve from a fate that he could not alter.

The most excruciating part was the knowledge that you had been kept in the dark, living out your final days with an illusion of safety and love. He had chosen to be your protector and your companion, even as he knew that every moment he spent with you was tainted by the reality of your suffering. And in the end, the pain of watching you slowly succumb to your condition, while desperately trying to shield you from the truth, was a torment more profound than he could ever articulate.

Sebastian Solace set you free, on the one way or another.

#sebastian solace #sebastian solace x reader #sebastian solace x you #sebastian solace fanfic #roblox pressure

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vhaos-chaotic-writing · 19 days ago

Note

Hi!👋, im back(again), sorry if im a little bit of an bother(english isn't my first language sorry😅), i want to have ANOTHER request of Yandere TFP ALL Autobots(poly pls🥺)with an same cybertronian s/o from my first request that is SUPER shy, easily flustered and hardly ever raises thare voice that comes out as VERY adorable whispers and thare...

🥰DROP🥰

💞DEAD💞

❤️‍🔥GORGEOUS❤️‍🔥

🥰🌌💗💜AND like my first request small scenario and headcanons💜💗🌌🥰

Hug🤗

YOU ARE NOT A BOTHER SHUT UP I LOVE YOU!!! (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ) And it's okay, english is also not my 1st language, but be patience and keep listening, reading and speaking it!! And you'll get the hang of it!

(〃￣︶￣)人(￣︶￣〃) Sending hugs too bestie!!!

(TFP) Yandere!Autobots w/ Shy Cybertronian!Reader (HCs & Scenario)

WARNING: Yandere behaviour, yandere harem, romantic relationships, overprotective and obsessive behaviour, soft kidnapping (?), typical violence from the series and a little bit more, Reader is gender neutral and in the Autobot faction. Long ass post ngl.

Don't worry guys I'm adding Ultra Magnus I ain't forgetting that fine mech again. And Cliffjumper, sorry baby I forgot you at first.

You were the little of hope the team protects dearly.

Everyone in the autobot team loved you so dearly and all of them had a little non-spoken vow: to protect and love you.

And how could they not do that? You were such a soft, spark-spoken bot, always trying to bring comfort to the others, never being too loud, supporting them and just being that light in the darkness they were in.

You arrived to earth with the original team - and if back in Cybertrone all of them were a little bit protective over you, being on a new planet it go 10 times more.

From the beginning after the autobots established on the base thanks to the human's militia and Agent Fowler, the team decided to forbid you from going on missions - you would have tried to gently speak in your defense of being able to fight alongside your friends, but after hearing the concerns of your teammates and feel as if their sparks would vanish at the mere thought of you getting hurt or... offlined by the Decepticons, it was more than enough to give in, smiling at them sweetly with a small 'I understand', deciding to become Ratchet's assitant.

All of them were so relieved - they didn't want to force you inside of one of the storages room and keep you there inside against your will. They were gonna do it to protect you! Alas, you were such a good, sweet bot that knew they were only looking after your well being! So good, so good!

The team cherishes every single little moment they have with you - every little smile, chuckle, conversation, inside-joke - anything became a dear memory within their softwares.

After Cliffjumper's death... the need to protect you grew, to the point the team started to develop such obsessive ideals about you.

Everyone's spark was clenching in pain, watching you cry your optics out while hugging Arcee, how was holding you closely and sobbing quietly, anger painted on her faceplate... she wasn't gonna let you get offlined like Cliffjumper did - no one was gonna let that happen.

You love dearly your teammates, and you know all of them love you! But... sometimes you feel like their love for you is too much. Sometimes.

Optimus Prime and Ratchet can be too overprotective, sometimes - You know they mean well, but sometimes you are mad at yourself for not telling them to chill. Optimus always remind you the promise you made to them before he leaves with the others for a mission - "to leave the base it is prohibited, even less if you don't have someone making you company." And you try to convice him, but his worried expression and your stuttering and passive behaviour always makes you close your mouth and whisper a "I'm sorry, I understand." It melts your spark at the sight of Optimus' soft, relieved smile and that forehelm gives you. And Ratchet, by Primus, he is always fretting about you - he is always checking on you even when you are on the same room, making sure you are well recharged and had your fill, always saying that "you are far more important than him" when you scold him for not having his fill of energon. You always remind him he is important too, but he is set on always prioritizing you over himself...

Your spark sinks a little at hearing Ratchet and Optimus speak quietly in the dead of the night - Ratchet was telling on detail everything you did on the day, as if it was a report. What it scares you is how precise his words and details are, it seems... obsessive, too obsessive. And Optimus thanks Ratchet for keeping you safe and sound, promising to keep fighting for a better world so all of the team and you could live happily back at Cybertrone... and you swear you felt Optimus' optics on you as you tried to recharge on your own berth, or heard Ratchet whisper sweet nothings to you as you recharged, too.

Bulkhead, Wheeljack and Ultra Magnus have silently vowed to be your guardians, your own personal wrecker-guards. Wheeljack is constatly flirting with you, as Bulkhead is the shy type to quietly give you small gifts like a small flower or pretty rock. Ultra Magnus always gives you praises and words full of - all three of them always get to make you blush. But lately, Wheeljack's flirting has become too... intense in your opinion. Bulkhead seems always too anxious whenever he gives you a small gift, fearing you are going to reject it. And Ultra Magnus seems to make his praise become worshipping, as if you were like Primus itself. You've also have started to notice how the three of them seem to always aim to get your favor, any kind of positive reaction - an approval from you, as if you were the one to have the last word and decision, like a god does. Wheeljack wishes for a flirt back, Bulkhead wishes for an approval, Ultra Magnus wishes your benevolence.

Bumblebee and Smokescreen can't never get enough of your affection and attention - like two young puppies. They also always try to have any kind of physical contact with you, which nearly always translates into hugs or servos holding. And these two are an intensified version of the three wreckers - Bee constantly seems to look after your approval, your words of affirmation and gentle praise. Smokescreen either flirts with you non-stop or spills too many worshipping praises like he did when he got to meet Optimus. But what makes them different is that they verbalize their protective promises. The two of them have said they are not afraid of ending any decepticon for the sake of keeping you safe and sound, to give you the Cybertrone you deserve so you can live happily and surrounded only by the bots that love you so dearly. And they promise this as they snuzzle gently their helms against yours, holding your servos softly... whispering their obsessive promises to your audials.

You know that, since the day Cliffjumper was killed, something inside of Arcee broke again. And thus, you became her light of hope, for whenever she was grieving or letting her spark poison with anger and a need for revenge, you were there to hug her or hold her servo, letting her cry on your shoulderplate. But she should be the one doing that! You cried and grieved the loss of Cliffjumper too! She is still has burn in her system the sight of you crying after finding out about the red autobot's murder. She was gonna avenge Cliffjumper (oh, how much he loved you - He would always tell Arcee everything he loved about you, and find such happiness at knowing Arcee thought the same) and keep you away from any danger. She wasn't gonna lose you. She was gonna offline anybot before that happened. She had become more touchy, overprotective, always seeming to act as a wall between everyone and you. "Cliffjumper always vowed to protect you... and I'll do the same - I won't let anything happen to you." She promised in a whisper as she hugged you. All you can do is hug her back, even when you were slightly... scared at how lost her optics seemed.

You love your teammates - you were so sure you wished to pass the rest of your life with all of them once the war was over, to bond with them and love them... but you've noticed how deep their feelings for you were.

Obsessive. Overprotective. Worshipping you as if you were like Primus. Promising to you with whispers about forever protecting you, about how important to them you were, that they were not going to be afraid to shed energon in your name if it meant to prove their love and devotion for you. Keeping tabs on you, whispering to one another everything about you, listening to you, watching you from time to time as you recharge, making sure you never leave the base.

You are their beacon of hope, the light in the darkness - Optimus and Ratchet are not afraid to taint their vow to not offline the enemy if it means to keep you safe and sound, keeping their optics on you. Bulkhead, Wheeljack and Ultra Magnus are ready to protect you from any danger as guardians and destroy anyone who tries to touch you. Bee and Smokescreen will keep giving you all the love and attention they can, promising you the universe and the stars. Arcee will make Cliffjumper's wish come true by keeping you away from danger and bring you the Cybertrone you derseve, just like the others aim to do.

And... there's nothing you can do about it.

All you can do is allow your teammates surround you as if the cocoon of a butterfly - keeping you warm, safe, loved.

Did my best!! Kind off felt like I didn't do good. (Uu￣ 3￣) Vhaos out!

#transformers #transformers x reader #transformers prime #yandere transformers #yandere x reader #transformers prime x reader #autobots x reader

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hellodarling1357 · 3 months ago

Text

Tiny Toes: Part 7 - Cassian x Reader

Hello hello hello!! It's only been...five months... (sorry) but I am back and have some goodies lined up for you all.

To get us started, here's the next, long-awaited part of Tiny Toes - I did see everyone's messages and they all meant so, so much. You have no idea! So thank you for all your kind words and encouragement!

I've schooched away from the timeline a bit with this one and jumped ahead a little, I might be bouncing back and forth while I get back into the rhythm of things but everything will line up in the end.

Please let me know your thoughts, seeing all of your comments and messages truly make my day and inspire me to keep writing!

Enjoy 🥰

Word Count: 7k (oohh it's a long one!!)

You can read the previous part here

Recent news of disturbances throughout the Continent had sent the High Lords into a state of panicked caution – memories of Hybern and Amarantha still raw in the aftermath of the war. As a result, Rhysand and the rest of his inner circle had been staying in the Dawn Court at Thesan’s palace, alongside the other High Lords and their courts, as they debated what to do next and planned how best to stay on top of the situation to prevent further conflict from crossing into Prythian’s shores.

Unfortunately for both you and Ottie, this meant Cassian’s absence was now pushing into its fifth week. Selfishly, you wanted him home with you; had you had a say, you would have never wanted him to leave in the first place. Cassian had also been reluctant to go, memories of the teary farewell still made your heart throb, however, he would never be able to live with the guilt of abandoning his duties and responsibilities to both his High Lord and Court. Even though you knew it was for the best, that didn’t stop the longing ache that came from missing him so desperately. You hadn’t realised it was even possible to miss someone this much, yet this had been the longest the two of you had been apart since falling into each other’s lives, the longest Cassian had ever spent away from Ottie, and you found everything slightly off kilter and as though it was all at a standstill without him by your side.

In Cassian’s absence, Ottie had very quickly wormed her way into his side of the bed. Usually, the two of you discouraged her from doing so, cherishing the limited time you had to simply be together at the end of the day without the interruption of a small, yet demanding, child, as well as Cassian’s taxing duties as General and your own work. However, waking up that first morning without Cassian in cold, unrumpled sheets had you quickly agreeing when Ottie had asked if she could have a sleep over with you.

The goodbyes had been hard. You had all decided to make the most of the day that Cassian was set to leave as the inner circle weren't required to get to the Dawn Court until later that night. The three of you had woken up early to make pancakes and Cassian’s special hot chocolate before heading out into Velaris to walk along the Sidra and grabbing lunch at your favourite little café that overlooked the shimmering water.

Upon returning home, Ottie had announced that she needed exactly 23 minutes to prepare as she ushered you and Cassian into the kitchen, closing the doors firmly behind her. Neither of you said much in those 23 minutes, choosing instead to bask in the silence, only interrupted by a few bumps and Ottie’s hurried “everything’s fine”, and being in one another’s company. Cassian had leant against the kitchen counter, pulling you snuggly into his arms and enveloping the two of you even closer together as his wings draped around you. In return, you had wrapped your arms tightly around his waist, burying your face into his chest as he pressed kisses to the top of your head.

“I’m going to miss you,” your voice came out muffled as you pressed tighter against him, willing away the tears that had started to trek down your cheeks.

“I’d hope so.”

You looked up, ready to chastise him for not returning the sentiment but instead found yourself crumbling even further at the emotion you found on his face. There was too much happening for words, the unknown of when he would be home as well as the unknown of what may lay ahead if what was happening on the Continent turned into a bigger threat. So instead, you lifted your hands and gently wiped away his tears, heart fluttering as Cassian turned to press a chaste kiss to your palm that rested against his cheek, his eyes refusing to leave yours as he let out a shaky breath. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you leant up on your toes, relishing in the feel of his arms tugging you even closer against him as he spun the two of you around and lifted you up onto the counter, your legs habitually wrapping around him as you pulled him closer so as to capture his lips with your own.

“Okay! I’m ready. You can come out now,”

Cassian made a disappointed noise at Ottie’s interruption, slumping against and leaning his forehead against your shoulder in defeat.

“Mum! Dad!”

Ottie’s singsong voice was laced with a threatening degree of impatience, making Cassian huff a sigh and quietly comment, “she’s too bossy for her own good.”

You laughed as you reached up to kiss him again before he helped you off the counter, one hand lingering between your shoulder blades as he led you into the living room, or what had once been the living room. In its place, a giant blanket fort had taken over the space with Ottie poking her head out of the opening, her face breaking into a wide grin as she ushered you both inside.

“Where did all these blankets and pillows even come from?” You asked, noting that most of them you had never seen before. Cassian just shrugged in response, eyes narrowing in on what lay in the centre of the rug.

“I’m not even going to ask where you got these, Otts.” Cassian promptly ignored the guilty look that graced Ottie’s face as he picked up one of the choc-chip cookies before making himself comfortable and pulling you down to sit snug against him. You smiled to yourself, realising the display of treats were more than likely from Elain and making note to yourself to ask your friend when she had dropped them off to figure out exactly how long Ottie had been storing them for.

“So, what’s the plan?” Cassian asked Ottie as he held out his half-eaten cookie for you to share. Ottie simply pointed to the large pile of games with a wicked grin on her face that had you both rolling your eyes, realising she expected you to play every single one.

*****

“You know,” Ottie started, as she slumped against Cassian’s chest from where she sat in his lap. “It would be a lot easier to play if there were more of us.”

“Hmm? How do you mean?” You absentmindedly asked, placing down your cards and smugly grinning across at Cassian and Ottie as you scored an extra 20 points, earning a groan in response.

“Well, just that if there were more of us, we wouldn’t always need to play two-against-one, or one-against-one-against-one.”

She had a point in that, the three of you had already circled through ‘boys against girls’, ‘wings against no wings’, ‘adults against kids’ multiple times throughout the afternoon.

“Maybe next time we have a games afternoon we can invite the others around?” you suggested, watching as Ottie placed down the cards Cassian silently handed her, completely missing the scrunched expression of frustration on Ottie’s face and the way Cassian had tensed up and remained silent throughout the whole conversation.

“Or,” Ottie stretched the word out causing you to look up in curiosity as you tried to catch Cassian’s eye who busily looked through his remaining cards in an attempt to avoid your gaze, “you could just have a baby.”

Cassian let out a sigh and it was now your turn to freeze in place as the words lingered in the space between. Sure, you had spoken about having kids together and you definitely wanted them with Cassian, but you didn’t feel ready yet. Joining their family had already been such a detour from the life you had imagined yourself living at this point in time, and while you wouldn’t change it for anything in the world, you still wanted the time to enjoy your life as it currently was.

You knew Cassian wanted another child and that he would jump at the chance as soon as you agreed, yet, despite feeling guilty as you noted his disappointment when you first told him not yet, the sense of relief that had washed over you when he quickly changed the conversation was telling enough in itself to prove that you weren’t ready yet.

Tuning back into the conversation as Ottie listed all the reasons why she thought she should have a baby brother or sister, your eyes landed on Cassian, finding him already looking back at you with a tentative expression. He didn’t seem shocked or caught off guard so Ottie must have already brought this up with him.

You opened your mouth, to say what you weren’t quite sure, but Cassian saved you from having to fumble for words as he abruptly clapped his hands together, “how about we start on dinner, that way, Ottie, you can have your surprise treat before bedtime.” At the mention of the words surprise and treat, all thoughts of a sibling appeared to immediately vanish as she scrambled out of Cassian’s lap and towards the blanket ford entrance.

“Nuh-uh, Ottie, you know the rules; if you make a blanket fort you need to pack it up, alright? You get to cleaning and Mum and I will start making dinner.”

The bubble of amusement at Ottie’s groan of annoyance as she stomped up the stairs, laden with pillows, was quick to pop once you realised you and Cassian were now alone. You turned towards him, already feeling his eyes on you, and were met with a soft and knowing expression.

“Cass…”

“Y/N, its fine.” His tone was comforting yet you couldn’t help but feel as though you were disappointing him.

“No, you know that it’s not that I don’t want to. I just…”

“Not yet, I know and its fine. We have Ottie and once you’re ready…once we’re ready, then we can talk about it.” He held out a hand which you took, letting him pull you up off the floor, a small smile gracing your lips when he didn’t pull his hand away and, instead, squeezed yours and soothingly rubbed his thumb across the back of your hand.

You let out another sigh, “Cass…” you tried again but were abruptly silenced as he pressed his lips against yours.

“Stop,” He pulled away but held your gaze, “I love you and we have all the time in the world. Even if you decide that just Ottie is enough, it won’t change anything between us, alright?”

Noting that the hesitant look on your face remained, he kissed you again, putting everything into it until he felt your tension ebb away. “Now enough of this, I don’t want to spend my last few hours here having you feeling like this. Come on, let’s start on dinner. Ottie won’t be happy if it gets too late and she misses out on her treat.” Cassian nipped at your ear, his own concern leaving him after hearing the small giggle you let out. Finally satisfied, he slung his arm over your shoulders and headed towards the kitchen.

“You know she won’t be going to bed while you’re still here, treat or not, she’s going to want to stay up until you need to leave.”

“Well, we can’t have that, she’ll be a nightmare for you tomorrow and then you’ll never want to have another one…” He let out a playful yelp as you smacked his stomach, “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Besides, I want at least a few uninterrupted hours alone with you before I have to leave...”

Rolling your eyes you move to pull away, but Cassian was faster as he spun you back around to face him, leaning down to kiss your lips once more and then the tip of your nose before brushing the hair away from your face and giving you a lovesick smile that you couldn’t help but return.

*****

The three of you slumped against the plush, green couch, Cassian in the middle with you and Ottie tucked in either side of him as you finished off the final few crumbs of the slice of chocolate cake Ottie had wanted to share. The young Illyrian let out a loud yawn that she quickly tried to cover up, “that’s so weird, because I’m not even tired.” You raised your brows and shared a look with Cassian who was shaking his head, an amused smirk lighting up his face.

“Hey, Otts? I know it’s not your bedtime yet, but can you do me a favour?” Ottie sat up and gave her dad a suspicious look as she waited for him to continue. “I was hoping you would let me tuck you in early tonight and read you a few stories? I’m going to miss you while I’m away and I’m going to miss bedtimes so was hoping for one more before I have to go?”

Ottie looked back and forth between the two of you before letting out a dramatic sigh, “Fine.” With that, she slid off the couch and grabbed both yours and Cassian’s hands as she began walking towards the stairs and up to her room.

“Very smooth,” you murmured into Cassian’s ear, he just gave you a wink before leaning down to scoop Ottie up, causing her to let out a squeal as he bounded up the remaining steps.

*****

After taking in turns to read Ottie eight different books, she was now tucked into bed with the two of you lying either side of her, tightly gripping your hands as she began to slowly succumb to sleep. Cassian was still as he played with her hair, silently watching her and taking in every little movement and feature. You stayed just as still, just as silent, as you took in the scene before you, knowing that the minutes were ticking by too fast in the count down to Cassian leaving.

“I love you, Ottie.” Cassian whispered the words as he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

A sleepy smile spread over Ottie’s face, “I love you too, Dad.” Soon enough her breathing evened out and soft snores filled the room.

Looking past Ottie’s small frame, your eyes met Cassian’s and the tears you found there had the ones you had been fighting so hard to keep back finally escape down your cheeks. Cautiously, Cassian slowly moved, testing just how deeply Ottie was asleep before nodding his head towards the door. You both carefully got up, Cassian leaning back down to fuss over Ottie as he tucked her in further and brushed her hair away from her face before pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. Moving around the bed to stand beside Cassian, you put a hand on his back and rubbed soothing circles across it, waiting for him to make the move to leave.

“Alright,” Cassian whispered, taking your hand and leading you out of the room, “now I want to properly say goodbye to you.”

You had just managed to silently close Ottie’s bedroom door before letting out a yelp as Cassian suddenly picked you and threw you over his shoulder before determinedly walking towards your own bedroom door.

*****

“Stop,” you laughed, a half exasperated, half amused expression on your face, “you’re being ridiculous.”

Cassian just winked up at you from where he rested between your legs, “I’m just making sure you won’t forget about me while I’m away.” He looked back down, a devilish grin spreading as he admired his work, you just groaned as you finally saw the marks he worked so hard to leave already appearing across your hip bones, trailing further and further down.

Pulling himself back up your body, Cassian sprawled himself out over the top of you, trapping you beneath him as your legs intertwined once more, his face burrowed in the crook of your neck as you let your fingers run through his hair. You let the silence envelop you, knowing your time was up but neither of you wanting to acknowledge it.

After what felt like both seconds and years, Cassian shifted, now leaning on his elbows as he looked down at you. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered. You felt the sting behind your eyes return and knew you wouldn’t be able to speak, so instead you leant up to kiss him. “I have to go…” Cassian said, eventually pulling away just fair enough to rest his forehead against yours, eyes still shut tightly as he held you close.

“I know,” you murmured back, kissing him softly once more before you both reluctantly started to pull apart.

Throwing on the shirt Cassian had been wearing, you watched from where you sat on the edge of your bed as Cassian got dressed.

“Do you know where my –”

“In the corner of the wardrobe.” Knowing he was asking about the boots you had been reminding him to get out all week. Cassian gave you a sheepish look as he ducked into the dressing room, causing you to huff out a laugh as you laid back down and stared up at the ceiling.

“Oh!” Cassian’s voice echoed out to you, “look what I just found.”

You sat back up just in time to catch the small woollen jumper that Ottie would have worn at just a few months old.

“It’s so tiny,” you held the small item up as Cassian sat beside you, leaning down to tie up his laces, “where was this?”

“It must’ve fallen down the back, it was poking out from underneath the drawers. Can you believe she was ever this small?” Cassian sat back up and reached for the jumper, trailing the small cut out sections in the back that once would have fit her wings. A pang of guilt coursed through you at the look on Cassian’s face, knowing what he was thinking about. You weren’t sure if it was the heightened emotions brought on by such an overwhelming day or the images of Cassian holding a small baby that raced to the front of your mind that had you wanting to say something.

“About before, what Ottie brought up –”

“Y/N, we don’t need to do this now, it’s –”

“No, Cass, I was just going to say that maybe… maybe, once you get back, we should talk about it again. Properly this time. I was caught off guard when Ottie mentioned it but…” you trailed off, not quite sure where to go next.

Cassian released a breath, wrapping an arm around your waist as he pulled you against his side and kissed your temple.

“When I’m back, we’ll talk.” You could tell he was trying to keep a neutral expression for your sake, but there was no missing the sparkle that ignited in his eyes and the way the corner of his lips twitched as though holding back a grin. “Fuck, Rhys is going to kill me. I’m going to be so late…”

Your heart dropped as Cassian stood, taking your hand to pull you up off the bed before guiding you to the door. He stopped outside of Ottie’s door, quietly opening it to peek inside and, seeing that she was still fast asleep, let out another shaky breath before whispering “I love you, Ottie” as he closed the door once more. You squeezed his hand in reassurance, “we’re going to be fine, Cass. We’ll miss you, so much, but we will be fine.” Cassian just grimly nodded in response as you made your way down the stairs.

All you could do was stare at one another, your hands were grasped firmly in his calloused ones, as you stood by the front door.

“You’ve got to go,” you whispered, tears freely falling now as you realised this was the last time you would be seeing him for weeks or, Cauldron forbid, months.

A pained expression crossed his face as he softly wiped the tears away before leaning down to kiss you. You quickly moved again him, the two of you melding together before a soft cough that indicated another person’s presence had you pulling apart.

“I figured you would need a little longer to say goodbye. Thought I would winnow us both over, save you the hassle of flying and experiencing Rhys’ telling off for being late,” Azriel’s low voice broke through the silence as you both turned to face him.

“Hi, Az.” You said, voice shakier than you intended it to be. Cassian simply nodded at his brother as his hand tightly squeezed yours.

“Y/N.” He greeted back with a smile that did nothing to hide the sombre expression that had been becoming a more permanent fix as the going-ons of the Continent continued to surface.

Cassian turned back to you; brows pinched as his eyes scanned your face. You offered him a small smile, not knowing how to make the goodbye any easier.

“I love you,” he said, repeating the words over and over again in a whisper between the hurried kisses he gave you.

“I love you.” No other words were needed as Cassian grimly nodded, leaning down to kiss you once more before taking a step towards where Azriel stood.

“Stay safe,” you called out, doing your best to stop yourself from racing after him, “both of you.”

Cassian’s turned back to face you as soon as he was beside Azriel, every emotion conveyed in a single look.

“Don’t worry, Y/N, I’ll keep him out of trouble,” Azriel replied in an attempt to lighten the weight of what they were about to head into and the significance in the changes that could come about over the following weeks.

*****

Five weeks and three days later

You and Ottie had just gotten home after spending the evening with Elain and Nyx, who she was looking after whilst Feyre and Rhys were in the Dawn Court.

“Mum?” Ottie asked as you slid into bed beside her, “Can I please have two stories tonight?”

“Two? Otts, you look like you could barely stay awake for one. Are you sure? You’ve had a pretty big day.” You had gone into work, so Ottie had spent the day with her friend, Ciela, and, after picking her up, the two of you had then headed straight to the River House.

“Please…”

“Okay, fine. What do you want tonight?”

Whilst you read aloud, Ottie had snuggled up against you, but you could tell by her fidgeting that she was far from sleep.

“…the end.” You finished, placing the book on the bedside table and looking down at your daughter who was staring vacantly at the ceiling, only moving once you had settled back beside her so that she could hold onto you once more.

“Everything alright, sweetheart?”

“Yep.” But the deflation in her voice didn’t ebb your concern. Instead of pushing her to answer, you wrapped your arms around her and stroked her hair, hoping to offer some form of comfort as she muddled over her thoughts.

You had almost thought she had drifted to sleep and had begun to doze off yourself when Ottie suddenly sat up and looked at you with a determined expression.

“Mum?” You sat up as well, giving her a soft smile to encourage her to continue. “You know how before Dad left, I said I wanted a baby brother or sister? Well, I’ve changed my mind, I like that it’s just the three of us. Maybe we can get a dog? Dad’s always saying he wants a dog and that it would be really fun. And then the dog can keep you company when we’re flying and you’re on the ground, and it will also be able to…”

Ottie continued to list all the reasons why you should get a dog, yet you were waiting for her to drop the reason for her sudden change of heart in regard to a sibling. In Cassian’s absence, your mind had run amuck with imaged scenarios and that promised conversation you were to have upon his return.

“Well,” you interrupted Ottie’s rambles, noting the way she almost frantically avoided eye contact. “We can definitely talk about getting a dog once Dad is back. But how come you no longer want a little brother or sister?”

“I just don’t…” her voice was muffled as she slumped back against the pillows, pulling the blankets over her head.

Letting out a sigh, you racked your brain for what could’ve caused the sudden change but came up blank. Just this morning she had been telling you that if she had a sibling she wouldn’t need to have gone to Ciela’s because she would have someone at home to play with – completely missing the fact that it was the child caring factor that was the concern at hand. With Ottie yet to lift the blankets away from her face, you tried for another tactic and laid back down beside her, pulling the other half of the blanket over your own head.

“Does Ciela have any siblings?”

“Yes, three”

“What are they like?” You asked, maybe it had something to do with one of them picking on the girls…

“They’re alright,” Ottie shifted closer to you, and you were quick to pull her into a hug that she immediately melted into. “One of them is too little to play, the other one was at the big kids’ school today, and the other one is a grown up.”

“Did you tell Ciela you wanted to be a big sister?”

“Yes…” her voice trailed off into a whisper and she took in a shaky breath, burring her face tighter against you.

“Oh? What did she have to say about that?”

“Nothing really…,” Ottie squirmed a bit before continuing, “but she said she had heard her mum talking about you and daddy to Niamh’s mum.” You let out a sigh, knowing you were close and not liking where this could be heading. You knew people talked about you and Cassian and the cliché of you being his nanny before getting together, you only hoped they had the common decency not to bring a four-year-old into the mix.

“Did Ciela tell you what they said?”

There was a beat of silence before her quiet “…yes.”

You could only just make out Ottie’s response before she was sniffling and curling in on herself. Pulling the blankets away you scooped Ottie into your arms and held her tightly against you, one hand rubbing up and down her back while the other soothed her hair as she quietly sobbed into the crook of your neck.

“Sweetheart,” you started after a few moments, pressing a kiss to the top of her head once her sobbing turned into quiet sniffles. “I need you to tell me what happened, please? Otherwise I won’t know what to do to fix this and make you feel better.”

“They said… They said that when you and daddy have a baby,” her shaky intake of breath had your heart breaking even further at the inner turmoil she must have been hiding from you all afternoon. “That you will send me away to live in the Autumn Court because… because I’m not…”

You pulled back to look her in the eye, blood thrumming in your ears as you waited with bated breath for her to finish saying those dreaded few words, doing your best to quell your anger and focus on the girl in front of you.

“Because you’re not what, Ottie?”

“Because I’m not your real daughter. And when you have your own baby, you won’t want me anymore.”

The few beats in which Ottie’s eyes welled with tears as she hid her face against you gave you all but a moment to compose yourself and decide how you wanted to navigate the situation.

“Well,” you started, keeping your tone light, “that is just the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard, and you’ve heard some of the things your dad says...” Ottie pulled back and looked up at you with wide eyes, lower lip still trembling as she processed your words. “Of course you’re my daughter, I mean, sure I didn’t give birth to you, but that’s hardly the point. Ottie, I have been in your life since before you could crawl, besides, how else would I know how to make your favourite meal, or how to do your hair just the way you like, or the fact that you only like chocolate brownies if half the chocolate is melted and the other half is in chunks, it if I wasn’t your mum?”

You let out a sigh of relief as Ottie wiped away the few remaining tears, a small tug of a smile beginning to appear. “And why would we ever send you away to the Autumn Court? That’s just silly, your home is here, with us. The only time we would ever send you away is if you got to, like, 187 and still lived at home with us, although even then we might still keep you here, we just love you that much.”

“Really?”

“Of course. You are my whole world, Ottie. Everything changed for the better when you and your dad came into my life, and I wouldn’t change it for anything. And if we do have another child, we’re going to need you around to help us out and to teach them how to be just as amazing as you are.”

“I love you, mummy.” You pressed a soft kiss to her forehead and then to her cheeks.

“I love you so, so much, sweetheart.”

You blinked away your tears as Ottie wrapped her arms around you, holding her tightly until she was ready to pull away.

“So, do you think you’re up for the job of being a big sister?” You asked, tickling Ottie’s sides and relishing in the sound of her melodic giggles.

“Yeah, I think so,” Ottie looked thoughtful for a moment before continuing, “please can it be a girl? I don’t want another boy here, daddy is enough.”

You let out a laugh, “I agree, leave it with me and I’ll see what I can do.”

“Wow, I’ve been gone all of five weeks and the two of you have already kicked me out of my bed and decided that it’s a girls-only house. Maybe I should leave and stay with Uncle Rhys and Auntie Feyre, at least Nyx appreciates me.”

Your heart froze at the sudden voice, not having heard anyone approach, and then it completely melted at the sight of Cassian before you.

Ottie froze from where she was beginning to settle herself back against the pillow, looking between you and Cassian with wide eyes and a stunned expression that slowly broke into a look of pure joy.

“Daddy!” She all but jumped across the bed and launched herself towards where Cassian had been leaning against the doorframe, her small wings carrying her the rest of the distance. Cassian was quick to catch her in a tight embrace, spinning her around and around as he peppered kisses all over her face, sending her into a fit of giggles and happy squeals.

Completely caught off guard and feeling overwhelmed at the heartwarming reunion before you, you slowly pulled yourself out of bed and took a few steps towards the pair, grinning as you caught Cassian’s eye from over Ottie’s shoulder.

“Well,” Cassian started as he set Ottie back down on the ground and knelt down to her level, “now that I’m home, I think you should go back to your room–”

“But dad–”

“–to get your own pillow then come right back. What? The least you can do is give me back my pillow seeing that you’ve taken over my side of the bed.”

Ottie grinned at him then jumped forward to give him another tight hug before racing out of the room. With a soft chuckle, Cassian watched her leave before stiffly getting to his feet and turning to face you, the exhaustion so clearly evident you marvelled at how he had managed to hide it so well in those first few moments.

“Hey, you.” Your voice was quiet and came out hoarser than you would have liked but Cassian simply let out an incoherent noise as he stepped closer, all but falling against you as he pulled you into the warmth and comfort of his arms that you had so sorely missed.

“You,” he mumbled into your hair, “are the most amazing and incredible female to ever live. Let me know if I ever stop telling you that, yeah?”

“Cass…?”

“Hi, sorry, I’ve just missed you, so much. And I’m–”

“Exhausted?” you offered, taking in the dark circles under his eyes as you grasped his hand and led him to the side of the bed.

“That too. But I was going to say that just I’m so in love with you that these past few weeks have been absolute torture.”

“I love you too.” You laughed at his jumbled words, shaking your head as you took in his face before pushing the stray pieces of hair away from his eyes, your heart stuttered at the way Cassian moved into your touch.

“Y/N…,” he stared at you for a beat before his own hand came up to cup your face, gently pulling you closer in such a way that had your heart skipping a beat as your eyes flickered shut in anticipation of finally, finally having his lips on yours again.

“Gods, I’ve missed you.” Cassian murmured against you as his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer so that he could deepen the kiss. You responded just as enthusiastically, hands landing on the base of his neck as your fingers tugged on his hair, causing him to let out a small moan that had you grinning.

“Hi,” you whispered as you pulled away.

“Hi,” Cassian’s voice was just as soft as his eyes skittered across your face, leaning in once more until the patter of footsteps had him pulling away.

“I’m in the middle!” Ottie announced as she reappeared in the doorway, bounding over to the bed and making space for her pillow before looking at you both expectantly.

You watched Cassian with a worried expression as he turned to look at Ottie in bemusement. There hadn’t been much news from anyone regarding what had been happening, likely for security reasons, just the occasional hurried notes from Rhys and Feyre checking in and letting you and Elain know that everyone was okay and would hopefully be home soon.

“Do you want some food or a shower or anything…?”

Cassian pressed a kiss to your cheek, before trailing his fingers down your face, eyes lighting up just at the sight of you before him. “If I smell that bad, I’ll go and shower, but right now I just want to be with my girls.”

Shaking your head, you pushed Cassian towards the dressing room, “at least get changed before getting into bed, you’re still in your leathers.”

“I thought you liked me in my leathers.” He called back, making you roll your eyes as you climbed back into bed beside Ottie.

“You were right,” she mused with a thoughtful nod of her head, “Daddy does say some silly things.”

*****

After filling Cassian in on every little detail he had missed, Ottie was quick to fall asleep, complete exhaustion from her activity-filled and emotional roller coaster of a day knocking her out as soon as the initial shock and excitement of Cassian’s return ebbed away.

Once Ottie’s soft snoring filled the room, Cassian gave you a look before silently scooping her up and carrying her to her own bedroom. You knew she would be mad about the fact that she had been moved when she woke up in the morning but after a month of not seeing Cassian, you were more than happy to deal with the consequences of that later on.

“Is she alright?” Cassian asked after closing your bedroom door and sliding back into bed, immediately wrapping his arms around you and nuzzling his face against your neck.

“Yeah, she’s alright. How much did you hear?” You let your fingers trail through his hair, a month’s worth of stress and tension easing away simply by having Cassian beside you again.

“Enough,” the darkening of his voice told you that he knew exactly what had happened. “Ciela’s mum?”

“And Niamh’s.” You added, tone bitter as images of Ottie’s distraught face returned to the front of your mind.

“For fucks sake… can’t they just mind their own business.”

“She’s alright.” You reassured, knowing there would be plenty of time to get into it over your daughter’s friends’ mums, but not wanting to waste the time you currently had together doing so.

“I know…” he trailed off, letting out a sigh before pressing small kisses along your neck.

“Are you alright though? What’s happening on the Continent, will it –” Cassian cut you off with a kiss that you immediately returned.

“I’m fine. And that will all be fine. Tomorrow, alright? I’ll tell you everything but right now I just…” he trailed off and looked down at you, a soft yet longing smile on his face that you returned before tangling your fingers in his hair once more and pulling him closer.

*****

For someone who appeared to be completely exhausted, Cassian still had plenty of energy when it came to you in those few hours that followed his return home. You knew you would both feel the brunt of getting next to no sleep once the sun had fully risen, but as you lay in the calm silence of your candle-lit bathroom, your back against Cassian’s chest, both of you submerged in the warmth of the lavender-scented bathwater, you couldn’t find yourself caring.

Cassian had begged you to fill him in on every single detail of every day that he had been away for, no matter how boring and uneventful it seemed, he wanted to hear it all. He also managed to easily skirt away from any questions you directed at him regarding his time away and what had happened in the Dawn Court and on the Continent. Knowing he needed time to decompress, you playfully flicked water at him in response before jumping into a recount of Ottie trying to outfly Nyx and winning.

When you felt Cassian’s breathing begin to even out, the strokes of his fingers through your hair growing lazier and slower, you finally made a move to get to bed.

“Cass?” All you got was a grunt in return as Cassian pulled you back into the water and nestled his face against your bare back. “My love, you are exhausted and need to sleep. Come on, bed time.”

Reluctantly, Cassian let you help him out of the bath, his exhaustion clearly taking over as he slumped against the bathroom counter, eyes shut as you wrapped the large towel around him. Once you were both dry, you took Cassian’s hands and led him back into your bedroom, helping him onto the edge of the bed before pulling out some loose-fitting sleepwear for him to change into. As he collapsed against the pillows, you were surprised you didn’t hear the immediate onset of his snores, instead finding him watching you get ready for bed, a sleepy yet adoring expression flickering across his face.

You were about to climb in beside him when the sudden appearance of a small, folded sheet of paper caught your eye:

Please tell me he got back in one piece? We were all planning on coming home tomorrow but Az said he insisted on flying straight home as soon as the final meeting finished up.

- Rhys

“Cass, why do I have a note from Rhys saying you flew all the way home instead of waiting just one more night to winnow back with the others?

“Shh,” Cassian murmured as he reached for you and pulled you against him, “wanted to see my girls. I missed you.” The words were muffled against your skin, heavy breathing quick to follow.

The soft thud of a pen landing on your bedside table where the note had appeared only moments before had you rolling your eyes.

Yes, he made it home, missed telling me the part where he flew hours across Prythian without taking a break... No wonder he’s so exhausted, head hit the pillow less than a minute ago and he’s already snoring! See you all soon

- Y/N x

Mere seconds passed before another sheet of paper appeared on your bedside table.

Clearly not that exhausted if he’s only just asleep, he would’ve made it home hours ago according to when Az said he left ;)

- Rhys

You scoffed and scrunched the piece of paper up, not deigning to reply to your High Lord’s cheek, before settling back against your pillow. Cassian immediately reached for you, pulling you tight against him, even whilst being fast asleep. You let yourself relax against him, quickly finding sleep now that Cassian was back home and where he was meant to be.

*****

Tag List: @mis-lil-red @sarawritestories @beardburnsupersoldiers @eve175 @blushingfawnsposts @turtleshavesoulmates @slytherinindisguise @sleepylunarwolf @starryhiraeth @tele86 @azrielsmate3 @anuttellaa @purple-haired-faerie @lilac-witch @cassianstannn32 @littlelunatica @nighttimemoonlover @jswizzlewrites @azrielsmate3 @fxckmiup @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @talesofadragon @natashachelsea @lilah-asteria @callsigns-haze @blackgirlmagicforever @crimsonwritings @mp-littlebit @inloveallthetime @koemi-kimo

Let me know if you want to be added! 🥰

#cassian x reader #cassian acotar #cassian x y/n #azriel acotar #rhys acotar #cassian x you #cassian imagine #dad!cassian #feyre acotar #elain acotar #acotar #acofas #acomaf #marley writes

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bunji-enthusiast · 9 months ago

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Hope you're doing well!! Please take however long you need to get your creative juices flowing <333 may I order a Dogday recognizing Poppy's Angel is actually the former Playtime Co. employee he and many others came to love and cherish due to their kindness? The reader is THAT employee that others envy, many of the toys LOVES them and prefer to be taken care of by them.

Maybe the reader had found out the sinister nature of the company but is understandably afraid to speak up about it as they realized their old co-workers maybe weren't just fired or " quit " out of thin air after all... Perhaps something happened behind the scenes that made the reader " quits " ( Maybe they could be threatened but by a lot of pleading and bargaining, they're spared but has to keep their mouth shut and never come back, otherwise... )

The toys are devastated, angry and just lots of mixed emotions. The reader feeling more and more guilty as they venture through their once happy place and having to harm the ones they once swore to care for.

The rest is up to you! Please again, take care and take your time, all the best in everything <333

I'm So Sorry

Note || oh my hearttt the angstttt, lovely to write this as always. In the form of head canons if that is alright? ^^

WC || 1,035

Sypnosis || you knew otherwise, presumably what went on. You just didn’t mean to harm those around you.

Being aware of something most employees where not had dug you a thorough grave, you didn’t want to leave your beloved friends in the toy factory. A factory misconstrued on a basement of lies and futility you may as well be well over with, and bury it in the ground. Yet, bury in the ground they did.

Your superiors had learned of your knowledge of these things, and began sending letters. Bit by bit, they had only started off by threatening you; telling you to keep quiet. They didn’t want their precious reputation to be ruined by the likes of you. Still, you continued to stay, you didn’t want to leave your loved ones. All the friends you’ve come to love, eventually becoming like family for you.

You weren’t deaf nor blind to what the superiors at Playtime Co. do, quite literally you’d have to bandage your eyes or plug your ears to ignore all that was happening behind the scenes, you didn’t let it fall on deaf ears however. Eventually soon enough it was eating away at you to actually just quit, just straight up disappear from Playtime Co.’s eyes.

Among the many toys; Huggy, Kissy, Mommy, and Poppy, hell even CatNap began to wonder where you went. Why did you flat-out depart from working at the Factory so suddenly? One day you were visible and present, the next you had not shown up. Oddly enough they soon had gotten their answer when the Hour Of Joy had occurred, Huggy Wuggy had come across your paper of termination when he had taken upon himself in the act.

So long ago, that was a decade past you left that life behind. You really wished you would have granted them goodbyes before you had gone, yet it seemed you got that chance to do so when you received a paper in the mail that had appeared to be from your co-workers. Word for word you could remember reading, everyone thinks the staff disappeared ten years ago, we’re still here. Find the flower.

The only reason you even had to come back to the factory in the first place was because of the guilt easily overwhelming your logic, you needed answers. You needed to know what happened to your co-workers and all the toys you cared deeply for, yet you had an overwhelming suspicion you really knew what happened to all the staff in Playtime Co. you simply just weren’t present for it. Having technically already left.

Seeing Huggy Wuggy on the pedestal again brought back some memories for you, he was certainly a hoot. In a way, you really liked him along with the rest of the toys. He was certainly a unique one out of the few–especially along with Kissy Missy. You thought they were a cute pair together, Kissy always managed to calm his murderous tendencies and Huggy was always someone you can count on for a good hug if you ever had a bad day.

Killing is not something you would ever dare think of doing, it was simply not in your mind or blood to do so. So why did you have to resort to killing Huggy? You silently wept, having no time to grieve for him properly as you had to trudge on along to the flower.

Poppy was the last person (or toy, ahem) you expected to find in that case you came across. Now you find yourself in the game station, seeing her get pulled away like that right after she offered to give the code to you had you on the steels of your nerves, you were immediately very close to being in an angry mood.

Now you had to deal with Mommy’s antics, you felt for her, but you certainly wouldn’t want to go through the trouble of trying to get the code from Mommy. Least of all having to resort to killing her, as she would not listen to your words. Convincing her was impossible to do, trying to make her remember you was a whole different story.

Crap.

Why’d she have to go in a rage? Now she’s dead too, and what in the seven circles of hell did she mean by “HE’LL MAKE ME PART OF HIM! YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME!” You shudder when a mechanical hand comes to pull away Mommy’s corpse, you mentally make a note that is the Prototype. As you’ve come to learn the name after you had scavenged Elliot’s office.

Soon you learn what Mommy had meant, arguably enough you were angry that Poppy had derailed your only train to get out of Playtime Co. but your heart had ached too much to not finish what you started. Now CatNap was hunting you while you ran around in Playcare, you just never expected to see such an untimely sight that nobody should be put in.

DogDay was hurt, real bad. His legs were severed, he wasn’t long and limber like you remember him to be. His life seemed to be completely drained and sucked away from him, you wince when he moved, movement appeared to be harsh to even put energy into. Your heart bleeds for him, yet you are surprised when he actually recognizes you from before, all those years ago.

“Angel, you! Y-You're the one that cared for so many of us.” You nod, parental instinct already kicking in to free him from his belts from which he hung from. DogDay doesn’t deserve a fate like this, not then and especially not now. “You don’t need to, leave me here.”

“Oh hell no, you need to live.” You refute, shushing him before DogDay begins to protest. You sigh in relief once he finally is free, as selfish as it may be, he hadn’t ever attempted to kill you. You wanted someone with you that actually remembers you and doesn’t try to gun for you the moment you even step into the vicinity.

Gosh, you really hoped to get this over with. Guilt weighing heavily in mind as you had to kill so many toys, so many that you cared for.

At Least it meant to be in the name of self defense.

Right?

#poppy playtime #poppy playtime angst?#dogday poppy playtime #poppy playtime huggy #poppy playtime x reader #all the stuff

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mikasa-imadebiscults · 2 months ago

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Donna Beneviento SFW & NSFW Hcs

(A/N- I wrote this for one of my good friends @banananutmuffin28. Tar if you’re reading this, I hope you like this and have a wonderful birthday)

(Warning: AFAB! Reader, SFW and NSFW content)

SFW

- She loves to just spend time with you, even when the both of you are not saying anything just your company is enough for her.

- Likes to make you small things that she handcrafted, stuff like miniature dolls of you and her holding hands.

- Has a journal that she occasionally writes in about her life. She’ll have multiple pages about you and all the kind things you do for her that make her feel all happy inside.

- Cooking together with you when it’s raining hard and you can hear the muffled pitter-patter of the rain hitting against the roof is one of her most cherished memories of you.

- Does a lot of acts of service and gift giving for you. Whenever she gives you something she always gets a little nervous because she thinks you won’t like it. Though whenever she sees you loving the gift, she’ll have a blush dusted on her cheeks with a smile.

NSFW

- She’s a switch. It depends on what her partner wants to do. When she’s domming she’s mainly a service dom or a soft dom (save me Soft Dom Donna 😩) When she’s subbing she tends to be a needy sub.

- Eye contact makes her a little shy, especially when she’s submissive. Her cheeks will be so red. And if you tease her, she might just explode.

- She thrives on the feeling of being deep inside you with her fingers, curling them just how you like it. (Oh to be Donna’s partner-)

- Pulls your hair whenever you eat her out, firm but very gentle at the same time.

- If you decide to worship her body she will be surprised to say the least (the woman was too stunned to speak). Not to mention if you compliment and kiss the scar on her face she will fall even harder in love.

- For aftercare, she loves to be intimate. You holding and telling her how well she did or vice versa. Cuddling while tiredness consumes the both of you after a long session.

Masterlist

#LISTEN I KNOW ITS LATE IM SORRY #BUT #HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY TARRRR!!!!#>:D #donna beneviento #donna beneviento x reader #donna x reader #donna beneviento smut #donna smut

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inkspiredwriting · 2 months ago

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Countless cups of coffee

Five Hargreeves x Fem!reader

Warnings: none

Five Hargreeves stared at the half-empty cup of coffee on the kitchen table. The steam curled into the air, mingling with the morning light filtering through the curtains. It was a quiet moment, one that he had come to cherish in his otherwise tumultuous life. The coffee was strong, just the way he liked it, but it wasn’t the caffeine that he looked forward to. It was the company.

Across from him sat Y/n, her hands wrapped around her own mug. Her eyes were still sleepy, her hair tousled from the night before. Five found solace in these simple moments, the world reduced to just the two of them and the warmth of their morning brew.

“I think this is the best part of my day,” Y/n said softly, breaking the silence. Her voice was like a soft hum, comforting and familiar.

Five smiled, taking a sip of his coffee. “Mine too,” he replied.

Their lives were often chaotic—filled with timelines, apocalypses, and the never-ending struggles of time travel. But here, in the soft glow of the morning, it was just them. The rest of the world could wait.

Their relationship had always been complicated, fraught with the trials of Five’s time-hopping existence and the burdens they both carried. Yet, somehow, they always found their way back to each other. Coffee had become their ritual, a way to ground themselves amid the madness.

Y/n reached across the table, her fingers brushing against Five’s. “Do you ever wish things were different?” she asked, her eyes searching his.

Five considered her question, his gaze lingering on the way their hands touched. “Sometimes,” he admitted. “But then I think about how lucky I am to have you, even in this crazy life.”

Y/n’s smile was soft, her eyes filled with understanding. “I feel the same way. These moments... they make everything worth it.”

The peace of their morning was suddenly shattered by a loud crash from the other room. Five sighed, knowing exactly who it was. The Hargreeves household was never short of chaos, and his siblings had a knack for disrupting even the calmest of moments.

“Klaus!” Five called out, irritation creeping into his voice. “What did you break this time?”

Klaus appeared in the doorway, looking sheepish. “Just a vase. I was... uh, redecorating.”

Y/n laughed, shaking her head. “You and your redecorating.”

Klaus grinned, unrepentant. “Hey, if you guys didn’t want chaos, you wouldn’t live here.”

Five rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips. Despite the constant disruptions, he wouldn’t trade his family for anything. And he knew Y/n felt the same way. She had become part of their crazy world, fitting in seamlessly with the dysfunction.

As the day went on, Five found himself caught up in the usual whirl of events—family squabbles, and the occasional existential crisis. Y/n was right there with him, her presence a steady anchor in the storm.

By evening, they were both exhausted, sinking onto the couch together. Five’s mind was still buzzing with the day’s events, but Y/n’s hand on his arm brought him back to the present.

“You’re thinking too much again,” she said, her voice a gentle tease.

Five sighed, leaning his head back against the couch. “Can’t help it. There’s always something to worry about.”

Y/n shifted closer, her fingers tracing patterns on his arm. “Then let’s not think for a while,” she suggested. “Just be here, with me.”

Five looked at her, taking in the warmth of her gaze, the softness of her expression. He nodded, his heart feeling lighter. “I can do that.”

They spent the rest of the evening in comfortable silence, the weight of the world momentarily forgotten. It was in these quiet moments, surrounded by the familiarity of home, that Five realized how much he cherished what they had.

As they sat together, the memories of their journey played through Five’s mind. Their first encounter, the struggles they had faced, and the way they always found their way back to each other. It was like their relationship was written in the stars, no matter how many times the timelines tried to tear them apart.

“Hey, Five?” Y/n’s voice broke into his thoughts.

“Yeah?”

“Promise me something,” she said, her gaze steady. “No matter what happens, we’ll always find our way back to this. To us.”

Five nodded, his heart swelling with emotion. “I promise,” he said, his voice firm. “No matter what.”

The next morning, Five woke to the smell of coffee brewing. He smiled, stretching as he got out of bed. Y/n was already in the kitchen, her back to him as she poured their cups.

“Morning,” he greeted her, wrapping his arms around her from behind.

Y/n leaned into his embrace, her smile evident in her voice. “Morning. Ready for another day of chaos?”

Five chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “As long as I have my coffee and you, I can handle anything.”

Y/n turned in his arms, her eyes sparkling. “Then we’re set.”

They took their coffee to the table, savoring the warmth and the quiet. It was another day, another chance to face the world together. And in that moment, with the scent of coffee in the air and the person he loved by his side, Five knew that together, they could face anything.

Years later, Five and Y/n still held onto their morning ritual. Life continued to throw challenges their way, but their love remained a constant, unbreakable bond. Over countless cups of coffee, they built a life together, finding strength in each other’s presence.

And as they sipped their coffee, sharing dreams and fears, they knew that no matter where time took them, they would always find their way back to each other. Their love, like their morning ritual, was a testament to their enduring bond, a promise kept through every twist and turn of their extraordinary lives.

#five hargreeves imagines #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves x you #number five imagine #number five x reader #the umbrella academy #number five #number five one shot #five hargreeves

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03jyh23 · 4 months ago

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🌏⌇atlas┆song mingi

│part of goes to waste the series based on my favourite keshi songs

│listen here

rapper!mingi x non-celebrity!reader

│synopsis: in the heart of bustling seoul, you and mingi shared a luxurious penthouse apartment. despite the grandeur, loneliness consumed you as mingi's skyrocketing fame distanced him from the loving boyfriend you once knew.

│genre: lovers to strangers, angst

│trigger warnings: heartbreak (obviously), mature language, mention of past trauma and pain

│words: 8.9 k

│playlist: empty box an album by song mingi, tracklist: after hours, too late, killing me (english), wait, paranoid, drunk, lonely heart, empty box (english)

│reminder: what you’re about to read is purely fiction, so let’s keep it separate from reality.

!minors do not interact!

— hi there! finally, here's the next part of goes to waste series. i had to take some time off after publishing 2soon (check it if you haven't yet), which was a truly personal piece, but now i'm back! atlas is very loosely inspired by the song; it's more about the vibe the song gave me than the actual lyrics. i also changed the original synopsis quite a bit because i honestly didn't feel like sticking with the first version. same as with 2soon, i spent some time creating a playlist, and if you do decide to listen, i hope you enjoy the songs i've chosen. oh! and if you read through my small author notes, then you're lucky because i can finally reveal that both the reaper (jongho) and right here (yeosang) will be published as a mini-series (but only after finishing finding our way back)!

love, monika ♡

i’d be so grateful for a little love – a tagged reblog or comment would truly make my day!

│taglist: @skittyneos │@kyeos4ng │ @vcutparis │@hoeforalbedo

You were sitting on a bed in the bedroom you shared with Mingi in your very own luxurious penthouse apartment in the bustling center of Seoul. It hasn't been long since you moved in here, but the vastness and elegance of the place made you feel even lonelier than ever. Mingi was out, performing at a sold-out arena show, and the glaring reality was that you weren't there to support him. It wasn't that you didn't want to attend; the painful truth was that he simply forgot to invite you—his girlfriend of the last 4 years, someone who had stood by his side through thick and thin. You looked at the floor, your eyes catching the sight of your suitcases and bags packed meticulously with your belongings, ready to move out of this once cherished home. The thing was, you couldn't quite leave without seeing Mingi one last time. Your heart ached at the thought of parting without a final goodbye, and it didn't let you go. You didn't know life without Mingi, and the prospect left you shit scared. The very thought of navigating through your days without his presence was enough to send shivers down your spine. However, you couldn't pretend any longer that Mingi hasn't changed. The boy you once fell in love with, who was caring, attentive, and always made you feel like the center of his universe, seemed to have vanished. In his place was someone distant, preoccupied, and seemingly indifferent to your feelings. You tried to rationalize his behavior, blaming it on the stress of his career and the constant pressure he was under, but deep down, you knew it was more than that. The connection you once shared felt like a distant memory, and the reality of who he had become was impossible to ignore.

It all started not even a year ago. Mingi's song went viral on the internet, and he gained a massive following in a span of three days. From being an independent artist playing in clubs for maybe a couple of hundred fans, he went straight to signing a contract with a major company, making huge checks and selling out arenas in a span of minutes. The transformation was almost surreal. One day, you were cheering him on from small, dimly lit venues where you could see the sweat on his brow and the fire in his eyes as he performed. The next, he was being whisked away to luxurious studios and high-profile meetings with industry moguls. It felt like you were living in a dream—or a nightmare, depending on the moment. Suddenly, the simplicity of your shared life was replaced by a whirlwind of glitz and glamour. Mingi's phone never stopped buzzing with calls, texts, and notifications. Invitations to exclusive parties, collaborations with big names, and interviews with top media outlets flooded in. While his career skyrocketed, your relationship seemed to plummet into an abyss of neglect and misunderstanding. As he became more entrenched in his new world, you noticed changes in him. The boy who once couldn't wait to spend a quiet night in, watching movies with you was now constantly on the go, his calendar filled with events that didn't include you. The intimate conversations you used to have, were replaced by strained, hurried phone calls and text messages that felt more like obligations than genuine connections. Despite your best efforts to be supportive and understanding, the growing distance between you became an insurmountable chasm. Mingi's success had come at a steep price, and it felt like you were the one paying for it. The man you had known and loved for years was slowly slipping away, replaced by someone who seemed more like a stranger with each passing day.

The night was getting later, and there was still no sign of Mingi. Maybe he wasn't planning to come back today; maybe he was too busy with his new rapper friends to even care to come back. You couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment and frustration. You glanced at your phone, hoping for a message or a missed call, but there was nothing. Well, it wouldn't be the first time he had left you waiting, feeling like an afterthought in his increasingly busy life. You tried to occupy yourself, turning on the TV and flipping through channels, but nothing could distract you. The boy who once couldn't stand to be away from you was now someone who seemed to have forgotten you existed.

With every passing minute, the reality of your situation became clearer. Mingi might not come back tonight, tomorrow, or even the day after that. He was out there, living his life, while you were stuck in a place that no longer felt like home. You still vividly remember your first day in this apartment; it was a momentous occasion. Mingi had received his significant check from the tour ticket sales, as well as the royalties, just a week passed since, and you were moving into the luxurious space. The excitement and anticipation were palpable as you both looked forward to starting this new chapter in your lives together. You left your one-bedroom apartment with a tingle of sadness, each corner filled with cherished memories of the life you had built together. However, the excitement and anticipation of creating a new home in a spacious, luxurious penthouse overshadowed any melancholy you felt. You both dreamed of this moment, envisioning a future filled with endless possibilities and new adventures. The thought of decorating the new place, hosting friends, and building new memories brought a sense of joy and hope. It was a new chapter, a fresh start, and despite the nostalgia for your old apartment, the promise of what lay ahead made the transition feel like the beginning of something wonderful. So, you never thought you would be leaving this place like this. Heartbroken. The walls that once echoed with laughter and joy now felt cold and distant. Every corner of the penthouse, which had been a symbol of Mingi’s dreams and aspirations, now seemed to mock your pain. The spacious rooms that once brought a sense of freedom now felt like a labyrinth of sorrow. You recalled the countless evenings spent planning your future together, the whispered promises of forever, and the dreams you had woven into the very fabric of this home. Now, those dreams lay shattered, scattered like fragile pieces of glass. The weight of your decision to leave pressed heavily on your chest, making it difficult to breathe. You never imagined that the place which once brought you so much happiness would be the same place you'd have to walk away from.

You promised yourself you wouldn't wait longer than 3 AM, and as the hour approached, you picked up all your belongings and took them to the hallway. Each step felt heavier than the last, the weight of your decision sinking in deeper with every passing second. You glanced once again across the apartment, taking in the memories etched into every corner of the space that once felt like a loving home. With a heavy heart, you left your keys on the kitchen counter. As you put your shoes on, you paused for a moment, feeling the finality of your actions. You were ready to turn off the lights and walk out of the door, the silence of the apartment echoing your own sense of abandonment. Just as you reached for the switch, the doors opened with a soft creak that seemed to reverberate through the entire space.

There stood Mingi, his face pale and eyes wide with a mixture of shock and disbelief, as if he had seen a ghost. His presence, so unexpected and surreal in that moment, made your heart skip a beat. The silence between you was deafening, filled with the weight of unspoken words and unresolved emotions. For a split second, neither of you moved, as if frozen in time.

"What is going on?" he asked, his eyes finding your gaze as he swallowed hard.

You took a deep breath, feeling a lump form in your throat. "I can't do this anymore," you replied, your voice trembling.

His expression shifted from confusion to concern. "What do you mean? What are you talking about?"

"I mean us, Mingi. I'm not even a part of your life anymore," you said, tears welling up in your eyes. "I packed my bags. I'm leaving."

Mingi's eyes widened in shock, and he took a step closer. "Leaving? No baby, you can't just leave."

You shook your head, feeling the weight of the decision pressing down on you. "I deserve more than this. I'm done. We're done," you said, almost out of breath, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and sorrow.

Mingi's face contorted with emotion, his eyes pleading as he reached out to you. "Please, let's talk about this," he said, desperation lacing his voice.

You looked at him, your heart breaking all over again. "It's too late, Mingi," you responded, trying to keep your resolve strong even as tears streamed down your face. "I'm so sick of pretending everything's alright, that you haven't changed," you continued, your frustration bubbling to the surface.

Mingi stepped closer, his hands reaching for yours, desperation evident in his voice. "What are you talking about? I'm still the same, I’m still your boyfriend who would do anything for you."

You took a deep breath, your voice trembling as you confronted him. "Are you even aware my birthday was a week ago and you haven't showed up to the party?"

Mingi's face fell, a look of guilt and realization washing over him. "I... I didn't know. I'm so sorry," he stammered, but the damage was already done.

"So no, Mingi, you are not the same. My boyfriend would show up to my birthday party, hell he would organize it himself. And you know what you did that night? You were sitting in a fucking club with your fellow rappers doing God knows what," you spat, the pain in your words cutting through the air. "My boyfriend loved me, he wanted to spend time with me, he cherished me, he would never leave without kissing me and telling me he loves me," you said, your voice cracking. "You are not him."

Mingi's shoulders slumped, the weight of his actions finally seeming to hit him. "I messed up. I know I did, and I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice cracking.

‘’Sorry is not enough,’ you took a deep breath, your eyes filling with tears. "I'm so sick and tired of justifying your shitty behavior in front of my parents, our friends, and most definitely myself. Every time they ask me where you are or why you're not around, I must come up with excuses. It's exhausting, and honestly, I'm tired of lying for you."

Mingi's eyes filled with tears, his voice breaking as he whispered, "I never wanted to let you down. I know I've been distant, but I never stopped loving you."

You shook your head, "You don’t love me, Mingi. Actions speak louder than words, and your actions have clearly shown me where I stand in your life. When was the last time you took me out, huh? When was the last time you asked me how I was doing? When was the last time you made love to me, not just fucked me after your show, huh?" you demanded, each question hitting him like a blow.

Mingi's face crumpled as he absorbed your words. "I didn't realize... I thought you understood how busy I've been," he mumbled, his voice tinged with regret.

"Busy? We all have busy lives. But love means making time, no matter what," you said, wiping away your tears. "I can't keep waiting for you to remember that."

Mingi's tears began to flow freely, his voice barely a whisper. "Please, don't go. I promise I'll change, I'll make things right," he pleaded, but you could see the doubt in his eyes.

"Since you went viral, you haven't even taken me to your shows, to the afterparties. I don't know your new friends. Do they know about me?" you asked, your voice rising with each word. Mingi's hesitation spoke volumes, and you felt another crack in your already shattered heart. "That's what I thought," you murmured, more to yourself than to him. "If they don't know about me, then maybe you don't want them to. Maybe that's why it's easier for you to forget I exist."

Mingi's eyes widened, realization dawning on him. "No, it's not like that," he tried to argue, but the conviction in his voice was gone. The silence between you grew heavier, filled with all the things left unsaid over the past months.

"Tell me honestly, now. You're rapping about fucking bitches and maybe that's really what you're doing in those clubs, huh?" you spat, the accusation hanging heavily in the air.

Mingi's face paled, his eyes wide with shock and hurt. "How could you even accuse me of that?" he asked, his voice trembling with a mixture of anger and pain. "I would never do something like that to you. You mean everything to me." he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. He took a step closer, desperation in his eyes. "I swear, it's not what you think. Those lyrics, they're just part of the persona. They don't mean anything."

You let out a bitter laugh, the sound echoing through the silent apartment. "Is that supposed to make me feel better? That it's all just an act? Because it doesn't. It just makes me feel like I don't even know who you are anymore," you retorted, your voice trembling with emotion. "You spend all your time with these people, living this life that I'm not a part of. How am I supposed to believe you when you say it's not real?"

Mingi's shoulders slumped, the weight of your words pressing down on him. "I know I've made mistakes. I know I've been distant, but I never wanted to hurt you. I thought you understood how much pressure I'm under," he said, his voice cracking.

"Being under pressure doesn't give you the right to treat me like I don't matter," you shot back, wiping away the tears from your rosy cheeks. "You used to make me feel like I was the most important person in the world. Now, I feel like I'm just another obligation, something you can push aside when it suits you."

Mingi's eyes lit up with a sudden realization. "Please give me a moment, I know what will make you stay," he said, his voice filled with a newfound sense of urgency. Before you could respond, he turned and rushed towards the bedroom. You stood there, your heart pounding in your chest as you listened to the sounds of Mingi frantically ruffling through drawers and opening cabinets. The noise grew louder, punctuated by the occasional clatter of objects being moved aside. After what felt like an eternity, Mingi emerged from the bedroom, his face flushed and his breath heavy. Clutched tightly in his hand was a small, elegant box. He walked towards you, his eyes never leaving yours, and with shaking hands, he opened the box to reveal a stunning, custom-made Tiffany engagement ring.

"This... this is what I was waiting for," he said, his voice trembling with emotion. "I wanted everything to be perfect before I asked you. I know I've messed up, but please, give me one more chance. I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you." Tears welled up in his eyes as he held the ring out to you, his entire being pleading for forgiveness and another chance. You stared at the ring, the weight of the moment pressing down on you as you tried to process everything. Mingi took a deep breath and then, in one fluid motion, he dropped to one knee, holding the ring up towards you. His eyes were filled with desperation and hope, the tears streaming down his face reflecting the sincerity of his words. "Y/N please, marry me," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I know I've been distant, and I know I've hurt you, but I want to make it right. I want to spend the rest of my life making it up to you, showing you how much you mean to me. Please, give me another chance." You stood there, your heart pounding in your chest as you looked down at Mingi, the man you had loved for so long, now kneeling before you with a ring in his hand. The future you have always dreamed of was right there in front of you, and you cried harder at the sight. The ring, a symbol of the life you had envisioned together, glittered in the dim light of the penthouse. It was everything you had ever wanted, yet the weight of the disappointments and heartbreaks made it difficult to embrace. The tears streamed down your face, mixing with the raw emotions that had been building up inside you. You couldn't help but think of all the broken promises, the lonely nights, and the feeling of being forgotten. The ring was beautiful, but it couldn't erase the pain that had accumulated over time.

Mingi kneeled there in front of you, his eyes filled with a mixture of hope and desperation, waiting for your response."Now we have enough money to book the beach venue you dreamed of," Mingi started, trying to control his own tears. "I will order you a custom dress from the designer you told me about, inspired by the Disney princess you loved since you were little," he added, his voice trembling with desperation. "And we will go to Belize for our honeymoon," he continued, his words coming out in a rush. "We will rent a whole house by the beach, just like you always wanted. Every morning, we'll wake up to the sound of the waves, and every night, we'll fall asleep under the stars. There won't be a single day when I won't prove to you how much I love you," Mingi's voice cracked, his eyes pleading. "Please, give me another chance. Please marry me. I promise I'll be the man you fell in love with, the one who would move heaven and earth just to see you smile. We’ll make new memories, beautiful ones that will overshadow all the pain I’ve put you through. I swear, I'll spend every moment making it up to you, showing you that my love is real and unwavering. So please, please say yes." The image he painted was truly everything you ever wanted, the plans you made together on countless nights, dreaming of a future filled with love and happiness. The beach venue, the custom dress, the honeymoon in Belize—all of it was exactly what you had envisioned. It was as if he had taken every whispered wish, every secret hope, and turned them into a tangible reality. His words, filled with desperation and promise, tugged at your heartstrings, making you yearn for the life you had once believed was possible. The thought of waking up to the sound of waves, falling asleep under the stars, and creating new, beautiful memories was almost too tempting to resist. In that moment, you saw a glimpse of the life you had always wanted. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath as you tried to steady your racing heart. The weight of the moment felt almost suffocating, but you knew you had to make a choice. When you opened your eyes again, you looked at Mingi, your voice barely above a whisper,

"I can't," you choked out, your voice barely above a whisper. The words felt like shards of glass slicing through the air. You saw the hope in Mingi's eyes flicker and fade, replaced by a look of utter devastation. His shoulders slumped as he dropped completely to the floor, the ring slipping from his grasp and falling to the floor with a loud echo. You heard him cry out in agony, and it broke your heart all over again, shattering it completely. For a moment, the silence was deafening, filled only with the sound of your ragged breaths and Mingi's soft sobs. You stood there, frozen, the weight of your decision pressing down on you like a physical force. Every fiber of your being wanted to rush to him, to take back the words and make everything alright, but you knew deep down that it was too late.

Mingi's tears flowed freely now, his face a portrait of anguish. "Please, don't go," he pleaded, his voice raw with desperation. "I need you. I don't know what I'll do without you."

"I'm so sorry, Mingi," you said, your voice trembling as you took a step back. "I wish things could be different, but I can't keep living like this."

Mingi looked up at you, his eyes red and swollen with tears. "Please, don't leave me," he pleaded, his voice cracking with desperation. "I can't lose you. I'll do anything to make it right, I swear."

You shook your head, "It's not about what you can do, Mingi. It's about what you haven't done." With a heavy heart, you turned towards the door, picking up your bags. Each step felt like a thousand, the weight of your decision making it almost unbearable to move. As you reached the door, you paused, looking back at Mingi one last time. The sight of him, broken and pleading, was almost too much to bear. "Goodbye, Mingi," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I hope you come across something more than better, something that brings you true happiness and fulfillment. And I’m so sorry it’s not me." With those final words, you turned the knob and stepped out into the hallway, closing the door softly behind you. The echo of the door click reverberated through the empty penthouse, a stark reminder of what you were leaving behind.

eight months later

It was a Saturday evening, and you were lying in your bed, scrolling through TV channels because apparently your best friend forgot to pay for your Netflix subscription. These past months, you were figuring your life out from the base. With your breakup, everything changed. You were now living in a small apartment, shared with two of your friends to make the rent cheaper. You hadn't saved up much while being with Mingi, mainly taking part-time jobs to be available whenever Mingi needed your help with his career—booking a venue, simply helping around with scanning tickets or delivering merch. You used to spend your days running errands and managing small tasks that kept his career afloat, and in return, he assured you that you didn't need to worry about your own income. Then, when the money came, he simply wouldn’t let you work, claiming what was his was yours, and he had more than enough. His generosity was comforting, but it also left you unprepared for the financial independence you now had to face. So apart from dealing with the heartbreak, you’ve also been struggling a bit with a reality without him.

Now, as you lay in your small bedroom, you couldn't help but reflect on how drastically your life had shifted. The luxurious apartment you once shared with Mingi was now a distant memory, replaced by this compact space that you now called home. It was filled with laughter and companionship from your two friends, but it also served as a constant reminder of Mingi’s absence.

The breakup had not only shattered your heart but also forced you to reevaluate your priorities and rebuild your life from scratch. Every day was a struggle to find your footing, to rediscover who you were without Mingi, and to carve out a path for yourself. Despite the challenges, you were slowly learning to embrace this new reality, one step at a time.

After a long search, you finally stumbled upon a music award show where a band you liked was performing, and you found yourself intrigued. A few other performances passed; the MC announced they would reveal the winner for the Album of the Year in the rap category. Despite trying to ignore all updates about Mingi, you knew he had released a new album earlier this year, so seeing him being nominated didn’t surprise you. You couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions as his name was mentioned. You saw him through your TV screen, his hair now cut short and dyed a vibrant pink, a stark contrast to his previous look. His nose was pierced, and you must admit it made him look even hotter. He was wearing a sleek black blazer with nothing underneath, the simplicity of his outfit highlighting his confidence. He looked absolutely gorgeous, his features as handsome as ever, capturing your attention completely. You couldn’t help but smile, a wave of nostalgia and admiration washing over you. Your heart began to beat faster with the excitement and joy of seeing him again.

And of course, Mingi won. You didn’t know exactly why, but you couldn’t help yourself—you clapped your hands enthusiastically. You were so incredibly proud of him and his achievement. With a wide smile on his face, he stood up from his seat, took a deep breath, and confidently hopped on stage. He walked over to the microphone, adjusted it to his height, and paused for a moment to gather his thoughts. "Thank you, everyone," Mingi began, his voice steady but filled with emotion. "This album means the world to me, and it wouldn't have been possible without the incredible team behind me and the fans who have supported me through everything." He paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. "I want to dedicate this award to someone very special to me, someone who was with me since my early days." Mingi's words hung in the air, and you felt a lump form in your throat. You knew he was talking about you. The memories of your time together, the sacrifices you made, and the dreams you shared all came rushing back. Despite the pain and heartbreak, a part of you was deeply touched by his acknowledgment. He continued, "I know I've made mistakes, and I've hurt the only person I have ever loved. But this album represents a journey of growth and redemption. It's about learning from those mistakes and becoming a better person." The audience applauded, but your mind was elsewhere, lost in the whirlwind of emotions Mingi's speech had stirred within you. You couldn't help but wonder if he truly had changed, if he had finally realized the impact of his actions. As the applause died down, Mingi took a step back, holding the award close to his chest. He looked directly into the camera, his eyes seemingly searching for yours through the screen. "You know," Mingi continues, "this special person told me that since I gained popularity, I’ve been only rapping about fucking bitches, and she hated that." Mingi smiled and looked at the award in his hands. "So, with this album, I came back to my roots, to lyrics that truly mattered and reflect who I am." As the applause echoed around him, Mingi took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his words and the emotions they carried. He remembered the countless nights he spent writing, the struggles he faced, and the moments of doubt. "I don’t know where she’s at now, what she’s doing," he paused, running a hand through his hair, his eyes filled with regret "I wanted to be a man and respect her decision to leave me, so I never reached out." His voice cracked, the weight of his words sinking in "Because the truth is she deserves way better than me." He swallowed hard, his eyes glistening with unshed tears "I don’t even know if this will reach her, but if it does, I just want her to know that I still, very much love her." A tear finally escaped, rolling down his cheek "And that life without her is shit." He took a deep breath, his voice barely a whisper. He glanced around, seeing familiar faces of fellow artists and friends who knew his story then he looked straight at the camera. "So, to my ex, to the one I prayed to end up with, thank you for breaking my heart. This one is for you." He raised his award and bowed. As he left the stage, you couldn't help but feel a surge of mixed emotions. The love you once shared was still there, buried beneath the pain and heartbreak, but his words made you wonder if there might still be a chance for redemption and healing. You sat there, stunned and overwhelmed, tears streaming down your face. The raw emotion in Mingi's speech had reopened old wounds, but it also made you question if there was a possibility for a new beginning.

Too caught up in your thoughts, you didn't notice when the cameras started to broadcast live from backstage. An elegant reporter, dressed in a chic green dress, stood waiting with a microphone in hand. Her eyes sparkled with anticipation as she spotted Mingi approaching, clutching his award tightly. She greeted him with a warm smile and a nod, gesturing for him to join her on a plush, cream-colored couch set up for the interview. As Mingi took his seat next to her, the reporter's smile widened. "Congratulations, Mingi, on your incredible win tonight!" she began, her voice smooth and professional. "How does it feel to take home the Album of the Year award?"

Mingi took a deep breath, trying to steady his emotions. "It feels surreal," he admitted, his voice slightly hoarse from the whirlwind of emotions he had experienced on stage. "This album was a labor of love and a journey of self-discovery. Winning this award means the world to me."

The reporter nodded; her expression empathetic. "You've mentioned that this album, Empty Box, holds a lot of personal significance. Can you tell us more about the inspiration behind it?"

"The title of the album, Empty Box, symbolizes a metaphorical space where I have placed all the love I couldn’t give, oh god I hate to call her that but, to my ex-girlfriend." Mingi's eyes welled up with tears, and he swallowed hard. "It encompasses not just the love, but also our unfulfilled dreams, the cherished memories we created together, and the mistakes we made along the way." He paused, taking a moment to gather his thoughts, his emotions visibly overwhelming him. This album reflects my journey, regrets, and lessons I've learned. Each song is a chapter of that story, a piece of my heart that I hope resonates with those who listen." He took a deep breath, his voice cracking as he continued, "I wanted to create something that speaks to the pain of losing someone you love, the guilt of not being able to give them what they deserve, and the hope that maybe, just maybe, we can all find a way to heal from our past mistakes." Mingi's eyes were filled with a mix of sorrow and determination as he spoke, his words carrying the weight of his emotions. He looked directly into the camera, his eyes searching for a connection with those who might be watching. "To anyone out there who feels like they've messed up, like they've lost their way, I want you to know that you're not alone. We all make mistakes, we all have regrets, but that doesn't mean we can't find a way to move forward. This album is my way of reaching out, of saying that it's okay to feel broken, it's okay to struggle, but it's also okay to hope for a better tomorrow."

The reporter nodded, her eyes reflecting the depth of Mingi's words. "Thank you for sharing such a personal journey with us, Mingi. Your honesty and vulnerability are truly inspiring." She paused for a moment, letting his words resonate with the audience. "What's next for you? Are there any upcoming projects or plans you'd like to share?"

Mingi took a deep breath, a small smile breaking through his tear-streaked face. "Right now, I just want to take some time to reflect and reconnect with myself. But I promise, there's more music to come, and I hope to continue growing both as an artist and as a person."

The reporter's eyes sparkled with curiosity as she leaned in slightly. "Is this album some type of closure for you? Are you ready to go out there and find love again? I bet there's plenty of girls, or guys who would die to have a chance with you."

Mingi took a moment to reflect, his eyes distant. "In many ways, this album has been therapeutic for me. It's allowed me to process my emotions and come to terms with my past. As for finding love again, I think it's important for me to focus on healing and personal growth first. Love is a beautiful thing, but it requires a strong foundation."

The reporter nodded, her smile warm and understanding. "Thank you for your honesty, Mingi. Your journey is truly inspiring, and I'm sure your fans appreciate your openness."

Mingi smiled back, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. "Thank you. I'm grateful for the support." With that, the interview concluded, and Mingi stood up, shaking the reporter's hand before walking away. As the camera panned out, you turned off the TV, your mind racing with thoughts and emotions. And you knew you needed to see him again. You've been staying strong since you left him, but now, the wall crashed down and you couldn't stop your racing heart, you couldn't prioritize your mind screaming at you not to do it. The memories of your time together flooded back with an overwhelming force, each one more vivid than the last. The late-night conversations, the shared dreams, the laughter, and even the fights—they all played in your mind like an old movie reel. Despite the pain and the heartbreak, you couldn't deny the love you still felt for him, a love that had been buried but never truly extinguished. Your emotions were a tangled mess, a mix of longing, fear, hope, and regret. You thought about the life you once envisioned with him, the future that seemed so bright and full of promise. Would it still be possible? Could you find a way to rebuild what was broken, to heal the wounds that had festered for so long? As you sat there, your heart pounding in your chest, you knew that you couldn't ignore these feelings. It was as if something was pushing you towards him, giving you a nudge to take a step towards reconciliation. The thought of seeing him again both terrified and excited you, but you knew that you had to follow your heart. With trembling hands, you picked up your phone and stared at the screen, your mind racing with a thousand thoughts. Should you call him? Text him? Show up at his door? You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves, and made your decision. You were going to see him.

You run to your closet, your heart racing with anticipation and anxiety. You put on a hoodie as the autumn air was getting colder, layered a denim jacket on top for extra warmth, and decided to go. Living on the opposite side of the city now, getting to Mingi's place would take more than an hour, but you didn't mind the long journey. As you left your room, one of your roommates looked at you, her eyes filled with curiosity.

"So, I guess you heard the speech?" she asked, a knowing smile playing on her lips. You could feel the pride welling up inside you, making you even more determined to reach Mingi and share your feelings with him.

"Yeah, I did," you replied, your voice trembling with emotion. "I need to see him."

"Honey, I know you want to, but don't forget why you left him in the first place," she said gently, her eyes filled with concern. "You were heartbroken and exhausted. It took so much strength for you to walk away and start rebuilding your life." She paused, her expression softening. "I understand that his speech stirred up a lot of emotions, but please, think carefully about this. Remember all the nights you cried yourself to sleep, all the broken promises. Just don't lose sight of why you made the decision to leave. You deserve to be happy and to find someone who truly values and respects you."

You nodded, taking her words to heart. "I know, and I won't forget. But I need to know if things can be different now. It's just, I am so proud of him, and I just wish he knew that" you whispered to your roommate, your voice filled with a mix of hope and determination. Your roommate, who had been silently listening, came closer, her eyes reflecting concern and empathy. "I know we've been through so much, and the pain was unbearable at times. But seeing him up there, pouring his heart out, made me realize that a part of me still cares deeply for him. I can't ignore these feelings. I spent so many nights crying myself to sleep, feeling hurt and abandoned, but maybe he's changed. Maybe he's truly learned from his mistakes. I need to see for myself if there's a chance for us to rebuild what we once had, to heal together and find a way back to each other."

Your friend reached out, gently squeezing your hand, her touch offering a silent reassurance. Her eyes softened as she spoke, "I understand why you feel this way. It's not easy to let go of someone you love, especially when there's still a part of you that believes in him. But you need to be sure that he's really changed, that he's willing to put in the effort to make things right this time."

You nodded, feeling a lump form in your throat. "I just wish he understood that despite everything, I don't hold any grudges. I want him to know that I forgive him and that I'm willing to give him another chance if he's ready to make things right." Your voice trembled slightly, the weight of your emotions making it difficult to speak.

Your roommate gave you a warm, encouraging smile. "You have a big heart, and it's clear that you still care about him deeply. Just make sure you protect yourself too. If he's really changed, he'll show you through his actions, not just words. Take it one step at a time and trust your instincts. You deserve to be happy, and if giving him another chance feels right to you, then follow your heart." Her words offered a sense of comfort and clarity, helping to ease the turmoil inside you. You took a deep breath, feeling a renewed sense of hope.

"Thank you," you said, your voice filled with gratitude. "I need to do this for myself, to know if there's still a chance for us." With that, you hugged your best friend and stepped out into the autumn night.

The journey to Mingi's place felt like an eternity, each passing moment filled with a mixture of anticipation and fear. As the bus drew closer to his building, you couldn't help but feel a surge of doubt. What if this was a mistake? What if you were setting yourself up for more heartache? But the memory of Mingi's heartfelt speech and the love you still felt for him pushed you forward.

When you finally arrived, you stood outside his door, taking a deep breath to steady your nerves. With a trembling hand, you knocked, the sound echoing through the hallway. To your surprise, the door is opened by an elderly man, dressed in an elegant suit. His eyes widen in surprise as he sees you standing there. "Good evening, sir," you say hesitantly, trying to mask your confusion. "I’m sorry for the late visit but I'm here to see Mingi. Is he already back?" The man's expression shifts from surprise to bewilderment.

"I'm sorry," he replies, his voice carrying a hint of confusion. "But I believe you have the wrong address. Nobody by the name of Mingi lives here." He looks at you sympathetically, as if trying to help you figure out your mistake.

Your heart sank, and you felt a wave of confusion wash over you. "But this was his address," you murmured, feeling lost.

The elderly man gave you a kind smile, "I moved in here few months ago, maybe he was a previous owner of this apartment?"

Your heart sank even further as you realized that Mingi had moved. "Thank you," you said softly, turning away from the door, feeling a mix of disappointment and confusion. As you walked back to the bus stop, the doubt began to creep in again. Maybe meeting with him would be a mistake? The universe seemed to be throwing obstacles in your path, as if trying to tell you something. Perhaps it was a sign that some things are better left in the past, that moving forward meant leaving certain chapters closed. You couldn't help but think about all the reasons you left in the first place, the pain and the heartbreak that led you to this very moment. Was it worth reopening old wounds for a chance that things might be different? As you boarded the bus, you decided to give it one last shot, you took your phone out. You scrolled through your contacts and found Mingi's number, your finger hovering over the call button. Taking a deep breath, you pressed it and held the phone to your ear, your heart pounding as it began to ring. After a few moments, you heard a familiar message on the other end, "The number you have dialed no longer exists."

The automated message echoed in your ear, a stark reminder of the distance that now separated you from Mingi. You pulled the phone away, staring at the screen in disbelief. How could it be? You had been so certain that reaching out to him was the right thing to do, but now, it felt like the universe was conspiring against you. You tried calling again, but the same message played, confirming that Mingi's number had indeed been disconnected. A sense of finality washed over you, making the reality of the situation sink in even deeper. It felt as if a door had been firmly closed, leaving you standing on the outside, unable to reach the person you once held so dear. As you sat back on the bus, the city lights blurring past the window, you couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions. Disappointment, sadness, and a lingering sense of what could have been. The memories of your time together replayed in your mind, each one a bittersweet reminder of the love you had lost. Deep down, you knew that this might be the universe's way of telling you to let go, to move forward with your life. With a heavy heart, you put your phone away and leaned back in your seat, taking a deep breath. As the bus continued its route, you gazed out at the city, the lights flickering like distant stars.

six months later

You just started your shift; the day was going to be long and tiring. With holidays fast approaching, people were buzzing to buy new goods. You were working as a manager in one of the luxury shopping centers, a position that demanded a great deal of patience and resilience. The opulence of the surroundings was a stark contrast to the stress that came with the job. The elegant displays and high-end brands attracted a clientele that was demanding and often indifferent to the staff's efforts. Managing a team in such an environment was no small feat. You had to ensure that everything ran smoothly, from inventory management to customer service. The rich customers, with their endless requests and high expectations, often tested the limits of your endurance. They seemed to suck the life out of you, leaving you drained by the end of the day. Yet, you couldn't afford to show any signs of fatigue. Your role required you to maintain a calm and composed demeanor, addressing complaints with a smile and ensuring that every shopper left satisfied. The holiday season only amplified the challenges. The influx of customers meant longer hours and heightened pressure. Each day felt like a marathon, with waves of shoppers flooding in, eager to make their purchases. The store was a hive of activity, with sales associates rushing to assist customers, restock shelves, and manage transactions. Amidst the chaos, you had to keep a watchful eye, ready to step in whenever issues arose.

You were on your way to the staff area to take a break for lunch, feeling exhausted from the busy morning shift. The holiday rush had turned the shopping center into a whirlwind of activity, and you were grateful for a brief break. Just as you were about to reach the staff area, one of your co-workers called out your name. You rolled your eyes, already anticipating another request or issue that needed your immediate attention. With a deep breath, you turned to face her, trying to mask your frustration with a polite smile.

"I'm really sorry to bother you, but we have a situation that requires your expertise. There's a particularly demanding customer, and the supervisor has tried everything but just can't seem to handle it. She asked me to find you because we really need your help with this. Would you mind stepping in to assist? I know you're on your way to lunch, but it would mean a lot to us."

You sighed internally, knowing that this was part of the job. "Alright, lead the way," you replied, forcing a reassuring smile. Following your co-worker, you mentally prepared yourself for yet another challenging interaction, hoping that it wouldn't take too long so you could finally enjoy your much-needed break.

She led you to one of the private dressing rooms. From a distance, you could hear a female voice demanding something from her, you supposed, boyfriend. "Oh baby, what do you think about this one?" you heard as you approached the door. Your heart skipped a beat when you recognized the voice that responded—it was Mingi. You stopped in your tracks, your mind racing. The reality of seeing him again, and with someone new, hit you like a ton of bricks. But you took a deep breath, steadied yourself, and pushed forward, opening the door to the dressing room. Inside, you saw Mingi standing next to a woman who was examining herself in the mirror, holding up an elegant dress. The room was filled with an awkward tension as Mingi's eyes met yours. For a moment, time seemed to stand still, the memories of your past flooding back with a vivid intensity.

Mingi's expression shifted from surprise to a mix of emotions—confusion, regret, and perhaps a hint of longing. The woman, oblivious to the charged atmosphere, continued to admire herself in the mirror, adjusting the dress and waiting for Mingi's opinion.

You felt like the air was taken out of your lungs. He was here, standing before you, after so much time had passed. Memories of your time together flooded back, each one more vivid and overwhelming than the last. You had to swallow hard and clench your fist to keep the act up, to maintain your composure in front of him and his new girlfriend. The mix of emotions inside you—shock, longing, regret—threatened to break through, but you knew you had to stay professional. This was your job, your life now, and you couldn't let the past disrupt it. "Excuse me madam, I’m a manager here," you said, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside. "Is there anything I can assist you with?"

"Oh yes, we've been looking forward to buying the limited-edition shoes from the new collection," she said, her eyes lighting up with excitement.

You took a deep breath at her words, trying to maintain your professionalism. "I'm really sorry to inform you about this, as my coworker already told you, madam, the shoes I believe you are referring to are only available for special order."

Her enthusiasm faltered slightly, replaced by a look of disappointment. "Special order? Is there any way we can place one now?"

"Unfortunately, the special-order period for those shoes has already ended," you explained gently. "They were available for a limited time, and we are currently out of stock. However, we do have a selection of other exclusive items that might interest you."

You caught Mingi's eyes boring into you, his face pale and expression frozen. He stood still, as if rooted to the spot, and he seemed to not even breathe. The intensity of his gaze sent a wave of emotions crashing over you, each one more overwhelming than the last. You felt your eyes watering, a rush of emotions threatening to spill over. You blinked quickly, trying to get rid of the tears and maintain your composure. This was neither the time nor the place to let your feelings show, but the sight of him, so close yet so distant, made it nearly impossible to hold back the tide of emotions.

The girl in front of you sighed, clearly disheartened by the news. Mingi, sensing her disappointment, placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "It's all right," he said softly. "Let's take a look at what else they have. I'm sure you can find something you'll love."

She turned to you with a sharp expression, her tone shifting to one of impatience. "Do you even know who my boyfriend is?’’

You swallowed hard, forcing a polite smile despite the tension. "Yes, madam, I'm well aware. Please allow me to show you some other exclusive items that might catch your interest."

"Baby, won't you do something about it?" She once again turned to Mingi, her voice carrying a hint of frustration, but his eyes never left yours, the unspoken words hanging heavily in the air between you.

Mingi shifted uncomfortably, his eyes meeting his girlfriend for a brief moment before he turned to you again. "I'll see what I can do," he said softly, trying to soothe her.

You took a deep breath, gathering your professionalism. "As I mentioned earlier, the special-order period has ended, and we are out of stock for the limited-edition shoes. However, if you'd like, I can take your contact information and notify you if any new limited editions become available in the future."

The woman sighed, clearly not satisfied, but nodded reluctantly. "Fine, let's do that then." She handed you her information, and you quickly jotted it down, aware of Mingi's gaze still lingering on you.

"Thank you for your understanding," you said, handing back her details. "Is there anything else I can assist you with today?"

She shook her head, her disappointment evident. "No, that's all. Come on, baby, let's go." As they turned to leave, Mingi hesitated for a moment, his eyes locking with yours one last time. You could see the unspoken words and the regret in his gaze, you silently hoped he would say something, anything. You gave him a small, professional nod, and without a word, he turned away, following his girlfriend out of the dressing room. Once they were gone, you let out a breath you hadn't realized you were holding.

You realized that the man you loved was no more. Instead, you met with someone who wore his face, who had his voice. Someone who was a stranger. The warmth that once radiated from his eyes was now replaced by an unfamiliar coldness. It was as if time had reshaped him into a different person, one that you could no longer recognize. The memories of your past seemed like a cruel illusion, a reminder of what once was and what could never be again. You realized with a heavy heart that the essence of the man you fell in love with had faded, leaving behind a mere shadow of who he used to be.

Don't talk to strangers, they say, or you might fall in love. And when that love fades, those familiar faces turn into strangers once more. The irony of it all stung deeply. The very person who once knew you inside and out had become an enigma, a puzzle with pieces that no longer fit. As you watched him walk away, hand in hand with someone new, you couldn't help but feel a profound sense of loss. The man you once knew, the man you once loved, was gone. And in his place stood a stranger who bore his likeness but none of the familiarity.

The journey of love had taken you full circle, bringing you back to a place of solitude and reflection. The lessons learned were etched deeply into your soul, a testament to the transient nature of relationships. You couldn't help but wonder if you would ever recognize that familiar face again, or if he would forever remain a stranger, a fleeting memory in the tapestry of your life.

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