#i am just. full of love for life with nowhere to place it. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

azulpitlane · 6 months

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i wish you would I ln4

pairings: lando norris x reader, exbf! mason mount x reader summary: part two of got love struck notes: kinda dragged making this but finals are finally over so send me some requests pls🤸‍♀️ this ones kinda angsty and there's lots of miscommunication sorry hehe part three, masterlist

yourusername posted a story 2h ago

The night was full of partying, drinking and dancing as you celebrated your best friend's 23rd birthday. The night quickly turned into a mess when you went to the bar to get everyone more drinks. When you came back your friends were nowhere to be seen, you assumed they were in the dance floor but when you went to check, they weren't there either. To make matters worse, you had put your phone in your friend's purse for safe keeping so you had no way to contact them. The panic quickly sobered you up as you looked everywhere for them but instead you found different a familiar face.

"Mason?"

"Y/n! Hey, I didn't realize you were here."

Your ex-boyfriend went for a hug as he greeted you. You and Mason ended your relationship over a year ago, and though you felt no animosity towards the football player, the breakup had been hard as everybody on the internet seemed to have an opinion on it. It was mutual breakup, you both were in different stages in your life and it just seemed like it wasn't your time.

"Yeah, I was celebrating y/bff/n's birthday with a few other girls, but I have no idea where they are and they have my cell." You were starting to get frustrated as you felt like they left without you.

"Oh no, I would help you look but I'm about to head out. Let me give you a ride home, I would hate for you to be here by yourself."

You knew if somebody saw you and Mason alone it would cause chaos all over again, but you had no other choice at the moment and you just wanted to go to bed. You agreed and as you left you both were oblivious to the cameras taking pictures of you leaving through the back door together.

As you pulled up to your hotel you smiled at Mason and thanked him.

"You're a lifesaver Mase seriously, I don't know what I would've done if I never found them or you."

"You don't have to thank me y/n. I will always look out for you even if we're broken up. I still care for you."

"You're a great friend, I'll always look out for you too."

"And um I have to ask,"

You could tell he was nervous as he scratched the back of his neck and his cheeks flushed slightly.

"What is it Mase?"

"Do you love him?"

You were surprised by the question, not expecting him to bring up Lando.

"Um yeah-yes. I love him so much, I can't even find the words to describe it to be honest. I don't think any song I write can even measure to how strong my love is for him."

"That's good, yeah, that's great. I just, I'm happy you found your person y/n. You know, I thought that person would be me, but if you're happy, than I am too. I guess we just weren't meant to be."

"Mase, you're one of the most amazing people I've met, seriously. I don't think it was ever in the cards for us, but you've taught me so much and you'll always have a special place in my heart. You will find your person one day, I promise."

You smiled at Mason as you spoke, not realizing you had given him the closure he had been needing for a year.

Lando was freaking out.

He had been sent the article of you and Mason over 5 times already and you hadn't answered your phone in over 2 hours. His mind was reeling as he was thinking about what you could possibly be doing right now. Even though he trusted you more than anything, he couldn't help but let it get to him. Why aren't you answering?

He knew your phone was charged and turned on considering he can still see your location. As he checked it again, he realized you were no longer at the club. You were at someone's apartment. Why weren't you at your hotel? Who's apartment was this?

Before he let himself jump to conclusions, he called y/bff/n knowing you two went out together.

"LANDOOOO! HI."

"Y/bff/n, hey is y/n with you?"

"Y/n? Oh nooooo. Aw I miss her Lan, is she with you?"

"What? No, how could she be with me? I'm in Monaco right now."

"Oh. Then I'm not so sure."

Lando could feel himself getting frustrated as he spoke with the clearly intoxicated girl.

"Okay, did she go home with you? With anyone else?"

"I don't know, you should probably call her or something."

"I did, over 10 times in the past hour."

"Oh maybe she's busy! Let me know how it goes, bye!"

"Wait-"

She hung up. Lando was going to throw up. He was never considered himself as an insecure guy, but he couldn't help but feel there was something going on. He's seen those tweets and comments saying how much everyone loved you and Mason together. What if those comments made you realize they were right? What if you were with Mason right now? Lando wanted to cry, scream and throw up all at once.

Three loud knocks woke you up from your beauty sleep. You were still in last night's clothes as you were too tired to even change after the nights disaster. You opened the door and your best friend ran in and hugged you.

"Y/N! I'm so so sorry for leaving you all by yourself. I was completely blacked out and I guess I was acting sloppy because y/f/n said we got kicked out of the club! I was acting too drunk and they got mad im so so sorry, this is all my fault and we tried to tell security to get you but they were so mean and-"

"Y/bff/n stop. It's fine, it was your birthday, you deserved to act a little crazy."

"Still babe, I'm sorry. Now that article is being spread like crazy and it's all because of me."

"What are you talking about? What article?"

"Shit. I forgot, here's your phone. But I have to warn you, people saw you leaving the club with Mason last night and the rumors have already begun. Im sorry hun."

Oh god.

Lando🧡 15 missed calls 5 unread messages

YourPublicist 2 missed calls 1 unread message

Danny Ric🤠 2 unread messages

Y/f/n 8 unread messages

The notifications were endless as you scrolled through your phone but there was only one that you really cared about. You immediately called Lando, afraid he was angry at you for this mess.

"Lan, baby, I'm so sorry for worrying you. I just opened your messages, y/bff/n had my phone all night." You immediately gave him a run down of the night as you knew what it was like to be in his position. The media has circulated so many rumors about your relationship overnight and you knew how hard that was. You had dealt with it all throughout your career and you were heartbroken it was happening to Lando because of you.

"That's weird because I actually called y/bff/n last night and she did not mention she had your phone."

"She was so out of it last night, she probably forgot she even had it. Oh god, she was downing shots I'm honestly not even surprised she got kicked out, she was so crazy-"

"Y/n, you don't understand, I have not slept all night. I was worried and everyone is talking about this. I look like an idiot in this situation."

You knew Lando was going to be upset but after your explanation, you didn't expect for him to still be angry at you.

"I know, the night was a mess, but nothing happened with Mason. He just dropped me off and I'm grateful it was him and not some random taxi."

"You're grateful it was him? You're grateful these pictures are all over the internet?"

"That's not what I meant! I meant he was the safest option at that moment, I had nobody else."

"Yeah. Half of the internet is happy it was him. People are actually celebrating thinking you guys are back together."

"Don't listen to them Lan, me and Mase are never getting back together. People will accept it over time and this will blow over."

"Why are you being so casual about this? Do you even know how I felt last night when you weren't answering. I was going to be sick thinking what you could possibly be doing with him."

"Lan, I told you nothing happened. Why aren't you believing me?"

"This is just all too much." Lando knew he was overreacting a bit. Your story made sense and it all lined up, but he had spent the entire night overthinking and reading the rumors about you two that he couldn't get them out of his mind. He loved you so much and last night made him realize how easily he can lose you and that thought terrified him. You were everything to him, but did you really feel the same way?

"Are you breaking up with me? Seriously? Over a stupid tabloid, I can't believe this." You felt betrayed. Did he not trust you?

"I dont know, it's just hard for me wrap my head around this right now."

"Lan, my flight to Monaco leaves in a few hours, how about we just talk about this in person when our heads are clear?"

Lando was getting angrier as the call went on. He knew his insecurities were getting the best of him right now but he felt like you weren't listening to him. You were trying to brush this off when the whole world was going against you two right now.

"Wow Y/n. My heads pretty fucking clear right now. You know what? Maybe it's best if you don't come, yeah?"

"Yeah, okay."

one week later

liked by user 1, user 2, masonmount and 3,593,304 others

yourusername life atm. p.s all new music released from now on is coming from the comfort of my own bed <3

comments on this post have been limited

yourbff love u. coming over rn🏃‍♀️

yourusername pls dont forget snacks

taylorswift need this new album right now

danielricciardo ❤️‍🩹

liked by user1, user2 and 231,583 others

dailymail Singer Y/n Y/l/n spotted once again with Manchester United star, Mason Mount, leaving a restaurant with a few other football players. Are the two officially back together? Rumors of her breakup with Formula One driver, Lando Norris have been circulating for over a week now after Y/l/n and Mount were seen leaving a club together. Read more on this new love triangle in our article linked in our bio.

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user1 im so excited for this album HAHAHA

user2 team mason idc

user3 funny how the last song she dropped was titled slut, if the shoe fits :)

user4 slut shaming in 2023? disgusting.

user5 i refuse to believe her and lando broke up sorry

user6 delulu is the solulu atp😁

notes: another cliffhanger!!!🤸‍♀️also this isn't proofread at all my bad heh

tags: @jayrami3 @whoselly @roseseraj @saturnbloom77 @landowecanbewc

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #ln4 #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #lando norris x you #lando norris smau #mason mount x reader

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shirefantasies · 1 month

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LoTR Characters + Pregnant Reader (Wife!Reader)

Back with more parent AU because it's some of my favorite fluff! Consider this a Part 1 to an anon request that’ll be on its way hehe (also an AU where something happens with Celebrían apparently 😥)

Warnings: conception, pregnancy-related illness and symptoms mentioned, very long post lol

Aragorn

✧ Neither of you had made any concrete plans. No set in stone hour of your marriage reserved for the growth of your family or dubbed too early. Thus, you are unsure how your husband will feel about your news, the fact that you got yourself checked out the first moment of illness, mother's intuition in full service already, it would seem. You cannot keep your smile to yourself, though, as you stroll in search of Aragorn, hand hovering about your own waist as if in disbelief. He had just returned from a hunting trip when you found him, smiling shakily at his amusement when you pulled him immediately aside into the next room over. "What troubles your heart?" The man had intuition of his own, years of silent observation- there was no lying to him. "I just learned that I am with child, Aragorn," you took his hand, seeing no point in being anything but direct, "due for the birth next spring if all goes well." "With blossom comes the next blessing of my kin," your husband replied, that wise look in his blue eyes causing you to shake your head fondly, "what could be more beautiful? What a gift you have given me and how could I ever repay it?" Shaking your head once more, you simply grinned and, sighing with relief and anticipation alike, replied that being the amazing father you know him to be will be all you need. Leaning forward, Aragorn laid his head against yours, brushing your noses as he held you.

✧ Looking out upon the kingdom, the realization that is is his kingdom still sinking in, and that he has made this place a home for new life as well. That this is the very reason he fought for a safe world. It brings such a rush to his heart that he goes off in search of you at once, kissing you warmly and caressing your still-small bump.

✧ Aragorn loves doing anything he possibly can to make your days easier, treating you like the queen you quite literally are! He pampers you with treatment like massages, washing your hair for you, drawing you baths, and the like.

✧ While you no doubt have many people at your disposal, quite similarly your husband enjoys cooking for you by hand and memorizes everything that makes you sick if anything as well as the random foods your cravings make you obsessed with, trying to creatively incorporate them into everything.

✧ You knew it already, but your pregnancy brings about the reminder that this man has such a way with encouraging words, his voice the only thing that cuts through the clouds of your changing moods.

✧ Aragorn is the one who tells you not to be so hard on yourself, that you are doing an amazing thing and you are desirable as yourself, no more and no less. No need to hide yourself, no need to perform, no need to feel anything less than the beautiful soul you have always been. Remember, he tells you, he is going nowhere, and you will endure all together.

Legolas

✧ For so long had you and Legolas hoped for your little life, long enough of trial and hope that you’d all but given up until you felt a shift. Felt on the brink of illness at nearly all times, seeking healing for a mystery illness and leaving with news that had your husband holding you for minutes on end, tears sliding down his cheeks, and refusing to let go of your hand all day. Holding you like you might shatter, his other hand wrapped gently around your waist where his hand can brush the curve of your soon-to-be-growing belly. “We did it, my love. We will finally be three.”

✧ Your husband grows wistful, getting a distant look in his eyes before smiling and reminiscing on his younger days. “What demeanor shall our little one have, do you say? I would not mind having two of you,” he teases, while you say a child like him would be much easier!

✧ “Both of your little ones sound quite healthy.” “Both?” You are shocked, but Legolas’s grin never falters, nor does his surprisingly tight, hearty grip upon your shoulders. “Twins,” he keeps repeating in wonder throughout the day.

✧ You and Legolas have a bet running on the twins, if they are to be identical or not. You think they are both boys, while Legolas thinks he has a little girl waiting for him, too. “Wishful thinking,” you tease him. “Absolutely,” he agrees, smiling softly at you.

✧ As time passes, he does tease you about your waddle. “Shall I slow down a bit?” Cheeky prince, but that’s why you love him!

✧ Legolas’s eyes never fix you with anything but awe. He is simply amazed at all the wonders your body is capable of and what it endures. Even though that wonder also manifests as him almost constantly asking if you are alright, it is worth it when your husband looks at you as though captivated by a goddess.

Boromir

✧ Boromir caught you with your eyes bulging out of your head, not a single chance of delaying your discussion. Such news as you have just received can only be considered a blessing, and yet you still are shaken to the core with the spiking precursor of excitement and hope, hope that your husband would be happy. Your words burst forth the moment he took your hands, asking you whatever was wrong and nodding faster and faster with each step of your detailed medical visit. His smile grew and grew until he could hardly help himself, taking your face in his hands and pulling you into a kiss that more than assuaged your worries. “Why do you look so worried? Such a wonderful blessing was beyond anything I could imagine,” he tells you, a hand reaching to rest gently upon you.

✧ He all but tackles you to bed that night, kissing again and again your lips, your cheeks, and down finally to your belly.

✧ Boromir’s appreciation of your body never ceases your entire wait. His hands always caressing you, his words always sweet upon your ears, especially to cut through the deprecating ones your own lips utter. It baffles your husband that you cannot see how utterly glowing you are.

✧ One hundred percent though will he be teasing you about the odd cravings you get; even as he goes to fetch them he’s making faces, asking if you’re sure, joking about what strange taste the little one has.

✧ You suspect you are carrying a son while Boromir’s guess is a little girl. After you remind him that a mother knows, he rests a hand over your bump and replies with a teasing grin “Why can’t a father know as well?” “Because you do not have to carry him for the better part of a year!”

✧ One of Boromir's favorite things in this world is the sight of how his lent garments fit you tighter and tighter, bringing a twinge to both the loving and the possessive sides of his heart...and his hands to wrap around you or cup your cheeks and pull you into a kiss!

Gimli

✧ His intuition is off the proverbial charts. It is he who first makes any mention of your chances, stating you should not strain yourself in your condition. You are confused, you even protest, but in the end you have your little appointment and your husband has a smug little moment of ‘I told you so’ before the realization of just what he’d been sensing hits him, dropping his jaw and sending his arms flying about you, lifting you up into the air with a hearty laugh. “The mighty line continues! And thanks to such a beautiful lassie no less! You'll want for nothing, I promise you, and no harm'll come to either of you while I yet draw breath."

✧ Has strong opinions about how well you should be eating, so barring you being stricken with sickness Gimli will be making or otherwise providing for you the heartiest of meals, all the things he believes are necessary to raise up a strong little dwarfling. Thank the fortitude and solace of his people, but you are sick very little your entire journey with this and all other little ones you share!

✧ Given the strength of dwarven genetics, you both assume that you are expecting a boy; thus, your husband insists on crafting a tiny axe for him. “For when he’s older, of course!” Gimli assures you, waving his hands defensively.

✧ No worries about your pregnancy weight here- suffice it to say that a dwarf finds the extra pounds quite appealing and has no hesitation about showing you such!

✧ Any exhaustion you feel is the only thing that stops Gimli from taking you around to all his friends and loved ones and likely anyone else who will listen and announce that he has a child on the way!

✧ Nesting is a very strong instinct of his! Gimli builds and crafts by hand all of your baby's furniture and decor, even an adorable mobile of horses, little dwarves with pickaxes, and little effigies of your favorite animal all dangling above his crib! Leaning his head against your belly, he asks the baby "Well, what do you think? Only the finest for my little flame!"

Frodo

✧ Your husband wasn’t sure at first. Not sure if he would feel whole enough after all he endured to bring a life into this world, but you, oh, you… The one who brought life vividly rushing back to his heart, color returning to his life and comfort to his pain. One day a pang struck his heart and he realized it would mean the world if after it all he was able to create life, and more importantly to have something so amazing come of your love. Soon after you both eagerly hoped for the signs, and it took but a few months. Frodo worried you would be sick, but confirmation comes after weeks without your cycle, nothing more. For once, no pain shall come to Frodo Baggins or those he loves.

✧ Your health is his greatest concern, so much so in fact that Frodo has soon befriended practically every midwife in the Shire, melting them with his endearing eagerness to know all he can about your possible afflictions and what you need. His concerns soon gather you the proverbial village of help should you ever send Frodo off for something beyond his breadth.

✧ It breaks Frodo's heart when his nightmares or moments of panic coincide with your own fragile emotions for the first time, for he should be caring for you, not the other way around, but when you hold each other, tears soaking into the opposite shirt, he realizes that what you two have is an understanding and trust strong enough to fortify each other even in darkness.

✧ In case you were not already aware, you are so lucky in your choice of husband! Discussing names soon emerges into your conversation and it almost takes you aback how quickly agreements on a girl and boy name are reached!

✧ The one time during your entire wait for your little one that brings tears to Frodo’s eyes is the day you bring home a bolt of fabric and when he asks what it is for, you answer to make him and your new arrival matching garments.

✧ You catch him smiling widely at you, love glowing in his bright blue eyes as he watches you do even the smallest things, your little waddle or the way you practice folding diaper cloth. All you can imagine is those same eyes fixed upon a babe in his arms, shooting Frodo the same look right back.

Sam

✧ It seemed that every other conversation you shared with your beloved Samwise revolved around babies, so much so that your few still-unmarried friends had grown sick of it. Anyone with a baby in the Shire, though, knew who to look toward for care! You and Sam gushed over little clothes, little hands, went on for goodness-knows-how-long about how much you'd like a little Sam and he wants a miniature version of the loveliest girl he'd ever seen followed of course by you saying why not both? Sam loved life so much, saw beauty in growth and creation and every joy in it, so of course he wanted a big family and all his infectious sunshine on the subject just made you fall in love with him more and more. Months of trying passed, though, before you came to Sam in a daze, before you cupped his precious face in your hands and whispered to him we did it. Before he tackled you to the soft grassy ground and held you, weeping tears of joy and kissing your hands, your cheeks, finally your lips once he'd spoken how much he loved you.

✧ Takes to sleeping a bit lower, his head nuzzled against your torso. In the night you can feel his nose and lips ghosting over it and even hear little whispers when you both can't sleep, but you say nothing, letting Sam have his moments with the little one.

✧ The worry he has about everything the first time around. "Are you sure you can eat that? I don't want you to get sick." "Is that too heavy?" "Don't trouble yourself a mite when I'm right here, I'll bend over for it." "Alright, only if you're certain nothing will happen to the baby, sweetheart." As much as you want to remind him that you are still a fully functional woman, you know that Sam is an action man and this is his way of showing he cares.

✧ The meals he cooks you. You will be eating like a queen all because Sam wants to keep the baby strong, of course! As a bonus, it truly is like he knows what sets you off and avoids those things without even having to ask.

✧ “Imagine all the wee feet running through here,” Sam muses in bed one night, your head tucked in the crook of his neck. “The little hands grasping ours,” you add. “All the little ribbons we can tie in a girl’s hair.” “Taking your little boy out to the garden!” Once again, your friends act positively sick of how sweet you are, but inside anyone can see how deliriously happy you and Sam are and feel warmed by it.

✧ “When the time comes,” Sam always assures you, your hand tightly in his, “I’ll be right here. Wild horses could hardly drag your Sam away.”

Merry

✧ Your reveal is made a bit anticlimactic thanks to your husband’s teasing ways. “You’re knitting.” Glancing down at your work, you simply nod. “Yes.” “You never knit.” Merry’s eyes narrow. “Is it for somebody?” “If you must know,” you set your needles carefully in your lap and tease back, “this is for your child. Any complaints now?” “My child?” Jaw dropping, Merry looks at you like you’d just offered him the whole of Middle Earth. “That’s right,” your voice softens, even cracking a bit with emotion at the sight of his smile, “you’re going to be a father, Merry.”

✧ Merry’s adorable little habit of making you a pillow pile to lay on during your time of the month carries right through to your pregnancy. And of course it continues even when you remind him you’ll not be able to stand up from in because he will be right there to help you up!

✧ Because you've taken up knitting, Merry wheedles with all his charm and love and kisses an additional creation from you: a sweater made from the same yarn as baby's. "You are lucky to be so adorable," you tease him, looking up from your work to kiss his lovely lips. Maybe, you thought, a whole matching set for three would be in order, though…

✧ Another one who teases you, joking about how he is finally able to outrun you!

✧ The type of father to chastise the baby whenever they kick you too hard, lecturing to the front of your dress about hurting your mother and how that simply won’t do, then looking up at you with a humored smile.

✧ Compliments increase at least twofold upon your revelation, Merry never sparing the kindest words about your strength, certainly, but mostly your beauty. Never once during any pregnancy do you feel unloved, unwanted, unattractive, for even when your eyes can find no light within your reflection there your husband is practically worshipping every corner of your form.

Pippin

✧ Desire for a family was something that had drawn you two together as a couple, though you may have found yourself talking Pippin down from ten children! “Maybe start with five,” you would always tease him. So the moment your hypothesis is tested and confirmed, a grin you can’t remove spreads across your face and you run to collect everything for your surprise. Surprise is the only word you can use when Pippin opens his gift and sees the tiny knitted hat you’ve placed inside the box. “What is this for? Little small, is it not?” “If it was for us, perhaps.” It ended up taking you reaching out for his hand and resting it upon your lower belly for the massive grin to spread across his face, but once it does Pippin is laughing loudly and giddily, swinging you back and forth in ecstasy!

✧ Runs to get you whatever your need with barely an question. After all, who is he to say what it's like being with child, and if you want it, you shall have it. Hot water bottle? Certainly. A cup of tea? Of course. Three more pillows? Why, he'll strip your whole bed down. Panics a little if the request is to relieve pain, so prepare to hear a crash or the shuffle of a trip or two before you have the item in hand or on body.

✧ "What is this for?" "What are these?" Lucky you love him, your husband does have many a question of all the supplies you gather for after your new addition is welcomed. "Oh, to keep the hands safe? That makes sense." "Wait, you need to wear that... to catch the bloo- oh, my." He gulps. "I'm going out right now. I'm getting you a cake and some jewelry and some flowers and anything else you'd like."

✧ Can barely keep his hands to himself. Pippin was always the most affectionate husband you could ask for, but now? Now you two are practically a package set and nary can you travel without his arm around you, hand about your waist and gently running up and down over your little growing bump.

✧ Your baby seems to have inherited your husband’s personality, for even before the birth many signs of how active your little one is are present! Those poor ribs of yours will get kicked more than a few times with all the fluttering your little one stirs up inside of you! Pippin, of course, wants to feel it all and luckily he is never far from the scene. If he is, though, you bet he will run!

✧ Pippin is always laying with his cheek resting on your belly, talking to the baby about anything from how his day’s gone to how they have the most amazing and beautiful mother. Your heart can’t help fluttering every time.

Faramir

✧ Faramir has the most uncanny way of reading you like a book, a habit endearing as it is frustrating. Thus the moment he catches you smiling to yourself he is smiling back, approaching you with teasing question of what has you so happy. For once, though, you have the satisfaction of catching your husband off guard, resting your head against his shoulder and a hand upon his chest as you tell him you just cannot wait to see him as a father. "Someday, my love," he takes your hand and kisses it, "if I am so blessed." Giggling, you shake your head against him. "Blessed indeed! Someday shall be this fall," you answer, and peeling back from him you receive another spike of satisfaction at his wide blue eyes, the drop of his jaw and the race of his heart beneath your hand. "Are you certain?" You nod. This time, he takes both of your hands in his and with tears in his eyes thanks the heavens for you even as he shakily laughs, your bright demeanor never failing to put a smile upon his face. "Our child will be so loved." "I know."

✧ Your husband finds himself lost in reverie more and more often, drifting out of reality into some distant, but nowhere near out-of-reach, dream of your family, seeing you as a mother the most beautiful sight he can conjure.

✧ Faramir adores holding you from behind, his hands curled gently over where your bump forms and his head resting gently upon your shoulder, flowing hair tickling your cheeks and neck lightly.

✧ "One for each of us," is Faramir's joke when one of Gondor's finest medics grants you the knowledge that you are not expecting one child, but two. Your husband is there in the storms, the waves of anxiety rolling within you over being there for your twins. "You are not alone," he always reminds you, a hand joined with yours right over the twins' little hearts.

✧ If you wanted a husband who actually does his due diligence learning all he can about growing babies, birth, and postpartum care, then Faramir is another excellent choice! He’ll be spouting off facts about the whole thing ranging from what size the babies currently are to why you might have contractions after giving birth. Your mood determines whether you listen in or tell him to kindly stop.

✧ Just as with you, Faramir’s insecurities sometimes get the better of him, but they also fuel him, bringing a fire you can see to his fair eyes as he speaks with determination how he will love all his children equally.

Eomer

✧ Pride glows upon your countenance as you flit about the kitchen putting the finishing touches on the roast you'd made for dinner. A kingly feast is in order, for not only had you heard your husband performed exceptional drills this day, but you yourself are the host of something exceptional. Eomer and you have been enjoying each other's company much these days, so the news is not so much of a shock as it is a celebration, exuberance at a line enduring, two dreams fulfilled as one, especially for your husband, who speaks often of how he longs for a full, boisterous home. Six if he's lucky. Well, you can hardly wait to help him along, pulling Eomer into your arms for an enthusiastic kiss before he can even toe his boots off, and when he chuckles and asks what has taken hold of his beautiful wife you let your news fly. Shouting for joy with abandon, Eomer lifts you up into his arms bridal-style, kissing your lips again and again. Dinner is all but forgotten as he kneels before you, holding your waist and pressing kisses all over the bodice of your dress and thanking you for making his day, nay, his life, perfect.

✧ Eomer is always proud of you, but the moment he finds out you are with child that feeling swells and positively drips off of him, every outing with him suddenly seeming quite like a chance for him to show you off. An arm around you at all times, a smile of great joy and satisfaction, news shared to all who dare make conversation with you both, and even kisses in public! Eomer is simply on top of the world and not a thing will topple his spirits.

✧ As somebody who never much studied the workings of women, though, Eomer is… a bit out of his depth. You will have to teach him some things like why your emotions swing so or what to look out for to know when your water breaks. This man has been in battle, seen heads roll in the most literal sense, and yet when you describe the eventual passing of your placenta his entire face contorts in a look of horror that has you all but doubled over in laughter.

✧ “You look so beautiful with child,” Eomer purrs, “we’ll have to do this again sometime.” You smack his arm, but cannot resist giggling at the way your husband still gives you butterflies.

✧ Your new addition had not even arrived yet and Eomer is commissioning a child-sized saddle, unable to contain his excitement as he describes all their future rides to you!

✧ As you dream up names, Eomer has many suggestions from the great halls of his own people, ancestors and great warriors alike, but making considerations of your own background is equally important to him, so he is more than willing to go back and forth for the perfect solution.

Eowyn

✧ No one had thought it possible, but they should have known. Impossible was not in Eowyn’s lexicon, and that was exactly why you loved her, one part within many of why you became her wife. And now, the healer confirmed you were carrying her child. …Very well, technically her banner-bearer’s child as the two of you had been forced to get a bit creative, but to have support and help from those who had begun with such uncertainty meant the world. Even Eomer had come around, having offered similarly, but of course you had to remind him that Eowyn wanted a child of her own, not a niece or nephew! Without Guthláf’s, er, donation, you would never bear witness to the broad and beautiful smile on your wife’s face, the tears glistening in the gorgeous blue of her eyes. “A child…” “Our child,” you add, leaning forward until your foreheads touched and noses brushed, a tearful smile upon your own face as your wife gently held your waist.

✧ Having worked so many times as a nurse lends well at least to Eowyn, for she is firm and unrelenting in her urging, nay, forcing, you to rest. No ifs, ands, or buts are to be accepted from your strong-willed beauty, let her dote on you, for she does it with great pleasure. And besides, the harder you fight, the harder she'll work to keep you lain down.

✧ Understanding the pain and symptoms of your time of the month completely also translates; thus Eowyn is ready with remedies for your aches and pains, hot water and herbs awaiting you. She rarely snaps back at your moods, choosing to be silent in the worst of times because she knows. Really, she does.

✧ She cooks for you, and whether you say anything about that or not likely depends on how willing to hide your honesty behind the hormone excuse if it is not taken well.

✧ Reminds you constantly how strong you are. In your lowest of moments, the times you struggle to stand and straighten your aching spine, feeling massive and utterly useless, Eowyn is there to hold your hand and tell you that you are hosting and creating life as she so speaks. You have made the ultimate sacrifice of your body and the greatest of pain to bring just as great a blessing to yourself and your wife. Far from useless, you are divine.

✧ “What does it feel like?” Resting her head on her hand, the one that wasn’t lain against your fluttering belly, she questions you as the baby kicks. “For you?” Part of her wishes to have this experience herself someday, while another takes your descriptions with trepidation. She does not enjoy being restricted, after all.

Haldir

✧ “Lie down, please, my love.” Haldir’s concern with your sickness increased daily as did the pain of seeing you feeling so weak and ill. You tried to push through and for as much as he loved your strength, your husband was not having it this time. Pride was not worth seeing you doubled over again, whether from pain or, arguably worse, illness. You relented in the end, resting and beneath the spinning of your head at the end of the day feeling not a seed of energy to protest an inspection. Healing herbs had you perking up a bit, and perked up you needed to be when the dark-haired, round-faced healer nodded sagely and with a wide smile told you you were with child, and these early days were likely to be the worst. For the first time in days the sobs that escaped you were accompanied by a smile, your face utterly breaking as Haldir held you against his chest, weeping too and thanking you for all you would endure for this blessing.

✧ Physically carries you places as often as he can be spared to do so. Lifts you up bridal-style to move you across your home and sits you up before he feeds you. Your illness brings out a tender, caring side you have never seen in your strong, stoic husband, but it makes your heart swell that much more for him and for the life you two are to have with your child.

✧ Another symptom you experience is the aching and swelling of your feet, but Haldir sits you down facing him and makes the best work of them he can, hands gentle as always as they soothe your skin.

✧ Even in the later months as your illness abates, though, your husband remains protective as ever, standing between you and any potential harm with the fiercest look upon his face and a hand upon your middle, even if the threat is an object you’ve hurt yourself on.

✧ The way shock melts into a wide, ecstatic smile unlike your husband’s typical demeanor when the healer repeats that yes, she could definitely hear two heartbeats beside yours is worth more than any gold in the world. Haldir pulls you into his arms, chuckling deeply. You feel his head shake slightly, slowly, atop yours in wonder.

✧ When you sleep, Haldir will always be holding you close, whether it is an arm draped over your bump loosely if you’re hot or need space or else you fully tucked into your husband’s warm embrace.

Galadriel

✧ Galadriel is actually the one who assuages your worries that your dream will not come true, having full faith in you as much as the magic of this world. And she is right, of course, confidence proven in the aid you receive from a member of her guard and even the way she knows it to be true before the healer even confirms the news. As much as she jokes about seeing a glow around you, the width of her beautiful blue eyes, the shine therein, tells you that your wife is as elated to hear it beyond a shadow of a doubt as you are: you are hosting a little life for you both to nurture.

✧ You being pregnant only aids in her mysterious nature. She can be convening in a council with the wisest of minds from afar and will use you as an excuse to step away at her will. "If you will excuse me. My wife is with child." They are not even aware she is married. Some of them may not understand how it all works, but before they can ask any clarifying questions Galadriel has already slipped away to be with you.

✧ One tendency you unwittingly adopt is falling asleep in the oddest of places, your exhausted body giving out upon its own terms. Always will you wake up draped in one of your wife’s shawls or blankets, however, no matter how odd the spot.

✧ Both of you can hardly resist the allure of tiny garments, smiling every time you see them. It also rings a bell of realization within your minds as you hold a tiny gown up to your midsection. Truly as you speak, there is a tiny body within you! What magic it is to be a woman!

✧ What magic indeed, you later reflect as another pain strikes your back not long after. Hosting tiny bodies came with all the assorted blessings and curses of your kind, one not long without the other. Sighing, you make to approach the chaise across the room and soon your wife is with you, moving its drapes aside and lowering you gently to its cushions, a soothing hand tracing up and down your aching spine.

✧ "I hope she looks like you," you both turn to each other and say simultaneously, mothers' intuition firmly aligned in your hearts, from which so much love for each other pours from, Galadriel immediately drawing you closer to press her lips to the crown of your head.

Arwen

✧ Elrond had been quite hesitant about your relationship with his daughter at first- were you the best choice for her? Could someone like you keep her safe? And how, of course, would she be given the child she so desired? Questions you yourself had posed to her, but she refused to listen, telling you her mind, and heart, were sealed. Little do you know, however, that all of Rivendell would come to love you as their own, see and praise the way you cared for Arwen, and in Lindir’s case even provide the healers with a chance at you giving your wife the family you both yearned for. The moment you tell her the healers’ method worked and she is to he a mother, you both are, her features lighten, taking on the wondrous joy of youth again as she grabs your face, falling onto you with a kiss of pure love.

✧ So accusing if you've overexerted yourself, leaning in closer with a look of sometimes-teasing, sometimes-serious scrutiny. "Surely you did not carry that up the stairs all by yourself, right?"

✧ Do not even bother trying to fake feeling up to anything, whatever the task, for Arwen can see right through you and will insist you sit down, taking your hands in hers. "Rest. You have your burden- let me take the others. My heart bears no ill."

✧ Her affection gets softer, light touches to your waist and hands resting over yours. One hand upon your hip or belly and one on your shoulder as you two sway gently, foreheads pressed together.

✧ Arranging your nursery is one of Arwen's favorite pastimes: painting a gorgeous meadow mural upon the wall, stitching a soft toy to lay within the crib, asking you which fabric you prefer for blankets.

✧ Your bundle of joy can make sleep difficult, but one silver lining Arwen points out in a low whisper one morning is how many sunrises you’ve now gotten to share with each other.

Elrond

✧ Reservations about having a fourth child so long after the others disappeared every time Lord Elrond caught sight of you holding a neighbor’s child or even just showing the loving care that had him convinced he would be well even marrying a second time at all. Every smile, every sweet thing you did, all of it came back to Elrond in a rush when you told him he was to become a father again. For once he did not feel too old, too tired, nothing but the elation of his every desire unfurling to him before his very eyes from your warm embrace. To be chosen as the father to your child was the greatest honor the lord of Rivendell could imagine.

✧ Your every ailment is minimal, for Elrond knows exactly what is best for each and every one. Nausea? The perfect tea blend awaits to calm the waves you feel. Aches and cramps? Your husband is happy to give you the most heavenly massage, his hands finding every needed spot as if by magic. A swell of emotion? He does not speak unless bidden to, simply holding you through sudden waves of tears, frustration, or both until he feels your body relax against his.

✧ Being married to an elf with the gift of foresight comes with the benefit of worries soothed, but also a joke shared between you both. For many a time you teasingly chastise him not to look too far and spoil the surprise of whether you have a son or daughter on the way!

✧ Standing behind you, Elrond rests his hands around your middle and presses a kiss to your cheek. Just when you think the bliss of this moment, of having your whole little new family all together within your husband’s arms, cannot increase is when Elrond shifts his hands, taking on the great weight you carry. Peering up into his soft blue eyes, your whole body deflates in a sigh of sweet relief as he holds you.

✧ He can never truly understand your experience, but Elrond has witnessed this process. All he wishes is to tell you all your pain shall pass, even the worst memories will fade and ease, but such words will sound insensitive, so all he does is continue to hold your hand and stand proudly at your side.

✧ One thing your husband cannot resist is showering your future little one with gifts, even jewelry for when they are a bit older and the tiniest circlet to place upon the beloved head, matching Adar's perfectly.

Want to meet the little ones? Part 2 coming soon 😉

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mikaaki · 7 months

Text

✧ ⁠— COLD HEART OF SNEZHNAYA

characters : tartaglia / childe / ajax

warnings : fem ! reader ( she / her pronouns ) , angst ( no comfort ) , childe & reader have a son. childe leaving. ALSO POSSIBLE MAJOR SPOILERS?? mentions of the reader being pregnant & labor. death threats. SIGNORA & SCARAMOUCHE SPOILERS

word count : 1.5k

notes : i am so sorry.

also i haven’t written in months so welcome back me !!🫶 i wrote this in like 30 minute so i am so sorry if it came out choppy

being a harbinger had never been an easy task. surviving the abyss , climbing the ranks of the fatui , and surviving constant attacks from enemies was not a lifestyle for the weak.

it also wasn’t a lifestyle he wanted for his family. he had never planned to fall so in love with you. when he first met you at liyue harbor , it was just a chance encounter. but then he kept seeing you.

over and over and over.

childe figured he may as well get to know you. he had always been a charming man , almost too charming. it always worked out in his favor…

he wondered how long he could keep the balance of his personal relationship with you and his life as a harbinger up for. it had been going so well.

he remembered the day you announced your pregnancy so clearly.

it was a bright sunday morning and the two of you were having breakfast together. it was rare for him to be home on the weekend , but there he was , happily eating a serving of eggs and toast with you.

you had been holding off the announcement for a few weeks. you knew exactly how busy he was. something about seeing him so content with your presence made you spill the beans.

he had never appeared happier. childe made it clear in the past he had always wanted to be a father , but now that it was exactly happening? he couldn’t contain his excitement.

it was hard keep the pregnancy a secret , but it was necessary. the less people that knew , the better. the 11th harbinger having a family wasn’t supposed to be public knowledge. it made everybody involved a major target to his enemies.

one of the hardest days of your lives came a few months later , when you went into labor. childe stood by your side the whole time. he held your hand tight while you struggled with the birth of your son.

love at first sight had always been an odd phenomenon to childe. his son changed all of that. seeing the bright ginger tufts of hair and light blue eyes of his son , he instantly fell in love.

childe was a man who’s life was full of blood and gore , but this child brought out an entirely new side of him. he wanted to change and be a softer , kinder man.

but he couldn’t do that. the fatui would never allow him to do such a thing. he was a weapon , not a father , as much as he wanted to be one. he had a place in the tsaritsa’s chess game. you were nowhere to be found on that board.

it didn’t take long for the first threat towards his family to come in.

childe had never been so antsy in his life. he rushed home as soon as he could , only to find you and your son alive and well. that was the first time he considered leaving.

would it be better if he left? he knew it would hurt you. he knew it would be difficult to care for your son alone. maybe he could transfer money to you so you could have a well - off life.

he couldn’t risk your life by being in it. hate him all you want , but at least you would be alive.

the night he finally decided to leave was the worst night of his life.

his family had received too many threats. too many people knew of you. your small home in liyue harbor was a target of the worst enemies of the fatui.

childe had spoken of moving several times before. after bringing it up for the upteenth time , you finally agreed. it was a small home on the outskirts of the city. it was certainly an upgrade from your prior home , though still small. it was big enough for three , but would be quite roomy for two…

the thought of leaving made him sick. childe would never get to see his son grow. maybe he could come by liyue and see glimpses of him , but he would never be able to be his father.

he felt ill every time he returned home. you’d happily greet him with a kiss , whilst your son laid in his crib , playing with toys or babbling senselessly in an attempt to speak his first word.

sitting in your small home , the moonlight shines brightly through the curtains , resting on childe as he held your son in his arms.

you were sleeping comfortably on your shared bed , blissfully unaware of the mental battle childe was having with himself.

maybe he was being dramatic. he was a harbinger. nobody would truly be dumb enough to go after his family. that’s what he thought…until signora was killed , and only a few months later scaramouche disappeared.

with harbingers beginning to drop like flies , he knew it was only a matter of time until he was targeted , or worse ; his family.

he held his son gently in his arms , taking in every detail of the small boy as if it were the last time he would see him…

because it would be.

he intended to enjoy the last few moments he had with his son. once the boy was asleep , he planned to put him in his crib , kiss your forehead , and never come back.

“i’m sorry,” childe whispered, his voice soft and nearly breaking as he spoke. it was so different compared to his normal boisterous personality.

a sudden stiring from your bed caught his attention. he quickly turned to look at you , his gaze meeting yours as you sat up.

in a tired state , you glanced around looking for your son. your eyes softened as you noticed the small boy in his arms.

“he’s precious, isn’t he?” you whisper , a tired smile pulling at your lips. you were never quiet about how much you loved the small family you built for yourself.

oh how unaware you were…

childe struggled to reply. he felt as if he were going to snap and spill the fact he was planning to leave you and your child behind.

“he is.”

“he looks just like you , you know?” you laugh. you’d made it clear that you were jealous your son took after his father. they were practically twins. it was ‘unfair’ how you carried him around for months only for him to be identical to his father.

childe didn’t respond. he quietly held the baby in his arms , gently rocking him back and forth.

“it’s rather late , ajax.”

childe looked up at you as you stated his real name. somehow , that name made him leaving feel worse.

he loved you. he truly loved you. he loved the family you built together. but he couldn’t stay. he didn’t deserve it. he couldn’t risk either of you to stay and enjoy this.

“i know,”

“i can take him if you -”

“no. he’s almost asleep anyway,”

a silence fell between the two of you as you stared at your son.

to you , it was a comfortable silence. just a small family enjoying a late night with their small baby.

to childe , this was worse than the abyss. he felt like he was lying to your face. he was leaving , and he couldn’t even muster the strength to tell you that. he didn’t deserve to be a father. he didn’t deserve to love you.

“go back to bed,”

“i am,” you smiled, laying back against the bed. you rested on your side, watching as he continued rocking your son back and forth.

“i love you,” he whispered. the words felt bitter coming out of his mouth. he knew it was true. but he also knew it would be the last time he spoke them to you.

“i love you as well,” you replied in that tired voice he loved so much.

it didn’t take long for you to fall back asleep. only a few moments passed before your son fell asleep as well.

childe gently placed your son in his bassinet. a feeling of guilt overwhelmed him , but he couldn’t stay. this wasn’t the life he deserved. his family deserved better. you deserved better.

he wasn’t going to put you at risk every day of your life just so he could be happy.

he wished he could tell you how much he loves you , but that was no longer possible. you were already asleep , and he intended to be gone by sunrise.

he leaned over to your side of the bed , pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead.

the next morning arrived , waking you with the bright beams of sunlight. looking to your side , you realized ajax was gone.

that was nothing unusual. he often ran errands in the morning , or he was at work.

either way , you decided to start your day , picking up your small son. the two of you would get some housework done while waiting for ajax’s return.

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kitorin · 1 month

Text

misalignment (n).

/ˌmɪsəˈlʌɪnm(ə)nt/

the incorrect arrangement or position of something in relation to something else. "in which, mikage reo finds himself both asphyxiated and confined within the unfortunate circumstances of his first love."

contents. mikage reo x gn!reader, unrequited feelings, no happy ending, right person wrong time (i think), reader and reo borderline drunk / wasted, unproofread misery, tiny implication at gaslighting but nothing like that happens, never written unrequited love nor experienced it (can't get rejected if i never confess !!)

Despite the intelligence and academic prowess he had maintained throughout his entire lifetime, Mikage Reo is fundamentally a fool; one who unwisely but desperately deludes himself as a means to remain blind to the truth.

The 'wanna hang out tonight?' text was the flame to his moth, effortlessly attracting him whilst having the full capability to incinerate his very existence, to destroy every part of him.

If years of friendship accompanied by unreciprocated feelings could teach him anything, it was that, to spend time with you, lining up was a prerequisite for Reo.

Free time for you was defined by work's leniency (which seldom seems to happen, but at least you enjoyed it), and the occasional period where you weren't obsessing over a drama or book series.

After that section of the queue, was quite literally everyone else. An invitation from you meant that Yukimiya was too preoccupied with modelling, Rin's overseas, Nagi was too lazy to respond and left you on read, Isagi's busy training, Kunigami's at the gym, and Hiori didn't have the time to travel that far.

Finally there was Reo, back up plan Reo, the friend that you could go to when no one was available; the friend you liked enough to spend time with but not enough to prioritise.

He steals a glance at you as you keenly sip from your glass. Self-hatred chews at his conscience, but the livid, and tired part of him shoos it away.

It's not a very nice thing to accuse one of thinking of another so lowly, especially a close friend, however the explicit signs of him holding little significance in comparison to others seemed to validate it. You and he have been drinking for a while now, without much word other than the 'hello's and quiet greetings when you first saw each other.

It's normal, the silence. It's just how things worked between you and Reo. Neither of you were particularly social, words weren't necessary to enjoy time together, that was one of Reo's favourite things about you.

He's always tired of speaking, having to maintain flawless image, that included appearing as someone sociable and eager to speak with others.

But with you, that expectation was nowhere to be seen.

You're now adults, but this is nothing different from the quiet walks to the bus stop back in high school. The ones where he'd do his best to steal a glance of how you look, soaked within the sunlight while smiling.

Chatter permeates the bar's atmosphere gently a few clinks of glasses can be heard which followed hearty laughter and the occasional cheer.

You're first to talk. "How's university been?"

"Good." Was the workload horrendous? Yes, and so was adulthood in general. Reo knows he has it easy; he can afford it easily and could still live comfortably without working a day in his life. But he still yearns for the same feeling high school had. "Hakuho was fun though."

You place your drink down, swallowing. "I know right? Never thought I'd say this, but I miss high school. It sucked most of the time. But you and the others made it so much better.”

Reo nods, as he gulps down more alcohol. “I miss it too. How has studying been for you?”

You huff. “It’s a lot. I feel like I spend more time studying than doing anything else. But it’s good. I don’t mind since I’m actually studying something I’m passionate about, you know?”

“I’m glad, then.” Reo stares at his whisky, swirling the amber in his glass. “Proud of you. I really am. You’ve come so far, and I just know you’re going to do well.”

Growing from a clueless high schooler to a driven, impassioned, medical student. A lot has changed, years pass yet he remains unloved by you.

God there he goes again, lamenting on his paltriness. It must be a relative of masochism; he could be safe and secure at home with a good book and cup of tea, yet he’s here drinking with the source of his pain, while tethering on the border of being intoxicated with alcohol instead of heartbreak.

With each drink, a wave of euphoria swallows him up, licking up his misery as if it were sand on the shore. Rationality and emotion bicker like seagulls quarrelling over food.

You laugh at his sweet words. “You drunk? Thanks though.”

“Drunk or not, I mean it. Seriously.” Reo knows his limits, but doesn’t bother correcting you. His face feels hot, not because of the soju, but because of you.

You’ve always been pretty, to a ridiculous extent. But absurd how a few years changes you so much. Reo can’t even identify the changes, he just knows you’ve gotten prettier; that his heart races faster whenever he sees you.

“Seriously.” You echo, and nod, and smile. “I miss seeing you every day. School was so much fun with you around.”

Another hasty gulp of soju. Reo can’t stand hearing those words.

I hate you.

Is it directed to you, or himself? Not even Reo’s quite sure. He does his best to ignore your kindness, if it were true then he would’ve been addressed you with a smile in the same way you’d speak to anyone else; he would know how his name sounds off your tongue. He would mean more than a last option, and all those texts wouldn’t be left on read, viewed out of genuine care rather than basic manners.

Even though he can go on about unfair this feels, it’s ultimately his fault for still spending so much time with you. You’re supposed to cut off the people who don’t value you. You’re supposed to only care for the ones who’d do the same for you. Reo should’ve cut ties with you long ago, yet he clings onto your relationship as if it meant more than anything else.

I miss seeing you at school everyday. Your words echo, and he does his best not to choke on his drink.

Formalities, not affection. It's not love, it's your way of manners. If you truly did care you'd be spewing those sorts of words out constantly, like when you're with Chigiri, or Anri.

"Reo? You good?"

"Yeah. 'm fine." It's a reflex, he barely had time to register the words leaving his mouth. "Are you?"

"Yah. I'm not the drunk one here am I?" You chuckle to yourself, bringing the glass back to your lips, averting your gaze elsewhere. "Were you always a lightweight? Your face is so red."

"And yours is so pretty."

There he goes, ruining your night with something stupid.

"Yup. Definitely drunk. You're saying weird things now."

And with that, Reo commands, requests, pleads himself not to cry.

"You know." Another shot of soju is swallowed down by you, punctuated with a refreshed gasp. "The me a couple of years ago would've been overjoyed to hear that."

It feels as though every interaction with you accentuates his one-sided love and it stings; time with you is mere salt to the wound.

Neither of you say anything for a bit.

Reo can recall your confession, an awkward text sent after a couple of months the two of you actually spoke. There's an unspoken boundary between you two, to not being up the topic of each other's crushes or of your confession.

A fair rule, but it's harboured questions. Reo hasn't got a clue on your love life and crushes. He knows of your obsession with romantic dramas, always binging whatever's trending, screaming on social media about having to wait a full seven days for the next episode.

If only the two of you were a part of one. But even fiction would probably destine him for solitude woven of heartbreak.

"I think you're the drunk one. Why bring that up now?"

You've finally halted on drinking. "Dunno. That was my first confession."

And you're my first love—he wants to say it, it's at the tip of his tongue yet he can't muster it to say it aloud to himself or even to Nagi; let alone you.

"Well, it was an honour."

It wasn't. Because the thought always intrudes into his mind. What if you had confessed a couple of years later, or even at least two?

Or what if Reo hadn't taken his sweet time to fall in love with you, if he had told you he wanted to get to know you first instead of a simple rejection, would you be in his arms?

"Shut up. I was a stupid kid back then. I promise you, I have absolutely no feelings for you. Not anymore."

Reo scoffs, he can't even fantasise of the potential between you two. You liked Mikage you'd see in the hallways; rich and top of the school; not clingy old Reo who feels ever so slightly too much for everyone he cares for.

Whereas Reo couldn't care less about l/n that just transferred to his class, but would die for the y/n he discovered throughout the years.

"Yeah yeah, I know. Never thought you did." He knew you didn't.

It wouldn't've saved him from his doom of unrequited love, but the timing was terrible. The heavens should've made your infatuation and his adoration align, at the very least. Even if it meant Reo remaining unloved.

A hiccup follows a breathless giggle. "Who did you like in highschool? There had to be someone. Why didn't you ever tell me though? You had so many fans, you must've liked one of them."

Because it's you. "Because you never asked." Reo shrugs, almost impressed at his own feigned composure.

"Now I ammm." Now your words are beginning to slur. "Whooo?"

It's you. And still you. Reo could say it right here and now. You're essentially wasted and probably won't remember it. And if you did, he wouldn't mind crossing an ethical line and fibbing if it meant concealing his pathetic vulnerabilities.

Perhaps one day he'll tell you, if the uninterrupted storm ends, and the skies clear, if Mikage Reo's heart will one day stop aching for you.

"I'll tell ya some day. When I feel like it."

"What?! You're not allowed to add that much suspense—and not tell me in the end."

And perhaps in another universe, he and you can be of the same constellation, instead of being galaxies apart.

taglist (send ask to be added) : @yuzurins , @pokkomi , @chigirizzz

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nataliasquote · 24 days

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Midas Touch [pt.2] | n romanoff

Part 1 | Part 2

Summary: How is Y/n supposed to process the events of the last 24 hours when life wants to continue as normal? Her head is a total mess but the two people she is closest to are the ones most responsible. In a room full of people, she is the most alone

Warnings: bad coping mechanisms, shitty husband, cheating, mentions of an injury

Pairings: James Barnes x wife!reader, maid!Natasha Romanoff x mistress!reader

wc: 5k

Note: hello :) I am back! This is nowhere near as good as I want it to be but I need to get back into writing so I pushed myself to write this :) I hope you enjoy and thank you for all the love on the first part of ‘Midas Touch’

-⧗-

If Y/n Barnes was a master of one thing, it was pushing her feelings so far down they didn’t dare bob above the surface even just an inch. There was no tell-tale sign of what had happened the previous night…

… except for the dark bruise scattered nicely across her high cheekbone.

James didn’t return home that night so Y/n woke up to an empty bed. It wasn’t the first time, and certainly wouldn’t be the last, but the vast expanse of the egyptian cotton bed sheets encased her body like a glove, and pulling herself out would be an impossible task.

Natasha knocked on the door at 10am, her uniform ironed to a crisp perfection. Flashes of last night blurred through her mind but she cleared her thoughts with a deep breath and pushed the heavy door open after a suitable and swift knock. She headed straight to the long curtains that concealed the balcony doors and tugged them open to allow a small strip of light to dance across the oak floors.

“Good morning, Mrs Barnes,” she spoke gently, watching her mistress smooth her hands over her mussed up hair. The same soft hair she’d felt beneath her own fingertips in an entirely new way. “We have plenty of time, but I would like to remind you that you have your Vanity Fair photoshoot today.”

Y/n groaned and shuffled up to prop her torso up against the thick pillows, the strap of her nightdress falling down her shoulder slightly. “Did we not reschedule that?” She asked, large eyes following Natasha like a hawk.

“I’m afraid not, ma’am,” Natasha replied with a grimace. Y/n rolled her eyes, again, and blindly gestured for Natasha to bring her robe over. Whilst the spring days were getting warmer, mornings still carried a cooler breeze that felt rather harsh if you were dressed in nothing but a silk slip. “I can still call ahead and see-”

“There’s no need. It’s just a photoshoot, not the end of the world.” Y/n’s bleary eyes were still half closed as Natasha approached, rather hesitantly, with the feathered robe draped over one arm. She reprimanded herself to stay professional but as their eyes met, she couldn’t help but see the helpless expression that she saw in them only hours before, the same one she fell for without considering the repercussions. Natasha was sure Y/n could hear how loudly her heart was beating behind her blouse and she waited for a remark or look that would truly test her to the limit, yet nothing came.

Y/n accepted the robe with a tight lipped smile and moved into the bathroom without another word. Natasha couldn’t help but linger on the blue bruise in contrast with her pale skin, but she knew not to mention it. It was just another elephant in the room, which was turning into quite the zoo now.

Photoshoot preparation was fairly minimal as hair and makeup would be taken care of on set, so Natasha just focussed on preparing breakfast and briefing Y/n on everything she needed to know.

“- and I think that’s everything,” Natasha said, placing her pen down on the table. “Oh, um, well, there is one more thing, but…”

“Spit it out, Natasha, we really don’t have all day.” Y/n peered over the top of her large framed sunglasses with a raised brow, watching as the redhead cowered slightly under her gaze. “What is it?”

Natasha swallowed and started to fiddle with her nails under the table. Why was this so hard? “It’s just your… cheek, ma’am. Would you rather we covered it up here to avoid any suspicions, or we could create a cover story? Perhaps you were hit with a tennis ball-”

Y/n held up her index finger, effectively cutting Natasha off mid ramble. The stress was evident in her tone and it was slightly irritating to the young woman who had managed to distance herself from everything rather quickly. Sure, the ache on one side of her face was still there and served as a harsh reminder of what her life was, but she had a part to play, and nothing, not even Natasha, would get in the way of that.

“I don’t care,” Y/n stated bluntly, pushing her sunglasses up into her freshly washed hair. “You can do both, cover it up and make up a story.” Her tone was blasé and Natasha frowned, unsure of how to handle her next words. “It’s not a big deal, so please don’t turn it into one. And James cannot know that you know, okay, or he will fire you if he finds out.”

Her words were like a kick to the stomach and Natasha nodded swiftly before busying herself with collecting the breakfast tray. Despite being the one to end their kiss last night and cement to Y/n that it was wrong, there was still a part of her that clung on to their relationship being forever changed for the better and she yearned for that feeling they’d shared only hours previous. But Y/n cooler demeanour squashed all hope and she even wondered if it all had been a dream. If it wasn’t for the bruise, maybe she would have been convinced.

Natasha didn’t utter another word about it, instead immersing herself into preparations. Y/n was typing away on her phone on the drive over, so Natasha stole thirty minutes to continue with her book. But the words on the pages were simply just that, she couldn’t focus on more than a paragraph. She was hyper aware of the heeled foot bobbing out the corner of her eye where Y/n had one leg crossed over the other as she scrolled through her phone, and how if they were only a few inches closer it would be brushing against her calf. But Natasha shook her thoughts away as they pulled up to the studio and fetched the bags as Y/n’s publicist greeted them at the door.

Natasha was directed to the dressing room, the kind of place she was familiar with, and she laid out her things before hovering by the door. Her role during photoshoots was minimal, and quite frankly she didn’t need to be there, but Y/n always requested her presence as a sense of comfort and familiarity. Things got overwhelming quickly on set.

“Oh thank god, I thought you’d got lost,” Y/n breathed as she spotted Natasha by the soft couch, hands clasped over her lap. “I have a favour to ask.”

“Okay, what is it?”

Y/n peeked down the hallway before quickly closing the door, allowing them a moment of privacy before the chaos ensued. “Will you stay with me all day?” Her voice was quiet, like she was afraid to admit it. Natasha’s eyes softened and she nodded. “It’s just- I’ve never felt as safe with someone as I do with you, and after yesterday I-”

“It’s okay, I’ll be right here, and I’ll hover on set so I’m never far away. And I’ve already sent the message around so no one will ask about your cheek.” Y/n smiled gratefully, counting her blessings for how lucky she was to have Natasha in her life. She went above and beyond her duties and had the kindest heart, one that captured Y/n more than she cared to admit.

Their sweet moment was cut short as a knock on the door sounded, promptly followed by the entry of the glam team. Y/n was swooped away into hair and makeup, a simple yet versatile look that could be adapted to fit each outfit. Natasha watched like a hawk, scanning Y/n’s body language for any signs of discomfort. But her mistress was also a professional when it came to performing in public, so no outsider would ever know what was bubbling beneath the surface. She chatted and laughed with her stylists just like any other day, complimenting the soft waves in her hair and the shade of blush used on her cheeks.

The shoot itself harnessed the light and airy feel of summer, utilising bright colours and soft prints that complimented Y/n’s complexion perfectly. She’d worked with the photographer a few times before, with James too, so they worked naturally together, her features enhanced by his skill and her ease in which she posed.

The camera adored her. Which wasn’t surprising, Y/n really was gorgeous. Each outfit fitted her body like a glove and she gazed down the lens with such a sultry look that Natasha shifted in her seat a few times. She watched, mesmerised - this part of her job never got old.

Natasha had come crashing down overnight, the one small taste of her mistress that she’d managed to get had got her addicted and the way the redhead looked at her was far from professional, no matter how hard she tried.

And life wasn’t helping her case either. Not when Y/n came strutting out in her final outfit, a light blue silk dress with a dangerously low back and swooping neckline. She locked eyes with Natasha and winked as the make up artist added a final coat of lipstick before stepping back to allow the set to be empty. Y/n turned at an angle to the camera and looked back over her shoulder, eyes gazing off away from the lens… and straight to Natasha. Her soft eyeliner brought out the colours in her eyes in the most gorgeous way and they seemed to sparkle in the studio lights as she turned and posed, all whilst looking directly at her maid.

Anyone looking at the meek redhead in the corner would just see a maid on duty. No one would be able to see the way her eyes followed where Y/n’s hands went, knowing she’d held them in hers only hours before. Nor would they see how she stared at her slightly parted lips whilst remembering the way they felt on her own. How gentle and delicate they felt, a wild contrast to her captivating and consuming presence that made everyone on set stop and stare. Y/n had finally trusted someone to see her vulnerable and Natasha treasured it like a precious stone, keeping it near and dear to her heart.

The day wrapped after a few hours and Y/n changed straight into a bikini before heading down to the pool, her hair loose and still curled from the shoot. The water was always her preferred way of unwinding and Natasha gave her some space to be alone for a while, something that rarely happened in her hectic life.

The house was peaceful as the afternoon sun warmed the patio where Y/n resided, her legs dangling into the crystal pool water below. Her large sunglasses stopped the glare from blinding her and she moved her feet slowly, following the ripples that she created. There was nothing to be heard but the birds in the trees and the occasional clink of crockery as the chefs prepared a light dinner. Natasha stayed back, her chair placed in the shade to save her delicately pale skin from the harsh sun rays. She didn’t tan like Y/n did, and looking like a lobster was not on her to do list for the week.

But her seat still gave her an amazing view and as Y/n stood up to refill her glass, Natasha took the time to admire her toned body and how it glistened from the tanning oil. Every piece of exposed skin looked smooth and she knew it would feel just as soft under her fingertips.

Her attentive ears picked up the sound of heavy footsteps across the marble floors and Natasha sat up a little straighter as James appeared in the doorway. He was focused on the woman by the pool, her damp hair sticking to her exposed back as it dried in the heat. With four strides he was at the pool edge, saying something that made Y/n climb to her feet.

Natasha was used to their PDA, but this one felt wrong to watch. The second their lips touched, she brought her book closer, trying to distract herself. But the more she thought about it, the more she couldn’t keep looking away. She saw how James’ hand instantly found the curve of Y/n’s lower back and pressed her body into him as he held the back of her head to kiss her. Natasha saw Y/n almost melted into his touch and she cursed how natural they looked. Was everything okay with them? Had Y/n really pushed her pain that far down that she could forgive her husband in two seconds? Or was this all just an act that the couple had perfected over time because this had been happening a lot longer than Natasha knew. She dreaded to consider the latter but the sinking feeling in her stomach wouldn’t let it go.

At the poolside, Y/n finally pulled away from James, her lips slightly numb. “Where were you?” she muttered quietly, not fully looking him in the eye as he brushed his thumb across her bottom lip.

“Work, doll, you know how hectic it gets sometimes.” There was something off about him, but Y/n was too exhausted to pry so she let her eyes fall to the exposed chain resting on his chest thanks to the buttons undone on his shirt. “Have you been good today?”

“Had a photoshoot,” Y/n replied, and James tensed, gripping her waist firmer as he waited for her next words. “The one for Vanity Fair’s cover next month.”

James grunted in response and dragged his hand up his wife’s body, raking in her figure in her small black bikini. Natasha watched over the top of her book, perplexed. No one could see how uncomfortable Y/n was as James’ hand gripped the back of her neck and guided her inside, her facade was good, but she prayed it would be obvious as they passed the redhead who could only pretend she didn’t see them. Y/n desperately tried to make eye contact with her maid but Natasha ignored her, sending a shudder down her spine as James’ grip hardened.

“Why are you so quiet today? Cat got your tongue?” James asked once the bedroom door was closed and the couple were finally alone. Y/n lingered by the bed as he discarded his button down shirt in exchange for a lighter and more simple one. “I asked you a question, Y/n.”

“I’m just tired from the shoot,” she replied, eyes flitting over his muscular back. “And the constant dodging of questions.” Y/n saw the way he froze, still with his back turned, and the confidence that had blossomed in her chest for a moment was snuffed out.

“Excuse me?”

Her chest heaved as her breathing sped up but she stood her ground, using the mattress behind her knees for support. “It’s hard to lie through my teeth when people are asking about the bruise on my face and I can’t tell them it was my husband. Photoshop is really going to save you-”

“What did you tell them?” James demanded as he stormed over, towering over her as he gripped her upper arm. “Did you dare?”

“I told them it was a tennis ball.” Relief flooded James’ face and he let her go, creating space between them. Y/n saw the way he looked at her cheek that was still covered with makeup. “Didn’t want to risk getting another one if you found out I’d told the truth.” The words were out before she could stop them and Y/n braced herself for the impact, expecting the inevitable.

But it didn’t come.

A hand touched her cheek, making her flinch, before it slid down to her waist and James knelt before her, his head resting on her bare stomach. His sudden change was unnerving and Y/n didn’t know what to do. He was leaning against her like a child, apologising and mumbling like a madman, and part of her wanted to push him away, but it would be a step too far. She just stood and listened to his apologies, once again blaming his work for making him aggressive and swearing that he’d never lay a hand on her again.

Part of her believed him, the naive part, but as she screwed her eyes shut, all she saw was Natasha. How gentle her touch was, something James could never do. He was always rough, no matter what, his hands calloused from years of fighting. The way Natasha’s palm felt against her burning cheeks would never be matched by anyone else and no matter how hard Y/n tried to imagine that the hands that were running across her back now belonged to her maid, she knew what Natasha’s touch was like and she couldn’t pretend anymore.

The moment the kisses started across her lower stomach, Y/n pushed James’ head away and sat down on the soft duvet, taking his hand in hers.

“It’s okay, I forgive you.”

Lies.

But for the sake of her life and safety, it was all she could say.

James was no knight in shining armour, despite his skillset. No, her true saviour knocked on the door in that moment, knocking the air out of her lungs as she breathed a sigh of relief. Natasha knew not to enter unless ordered, so Y/n scurried to the door and visibly softened at the sight of the redhead who’s cheeks were slightly flushed.

Right, Y/n was still in her bikini.

“I’m just here to say that dinner is ready and on the patio when you both are available,” she announced, smiling politely at James who had joined his wife at the door, his hand sliding around her waist possessively. “Chef prepared those oysters you requested, Mr Barnes.”

“Thank you, Natasha, Y/n and I will be right there.” The redhead didn’t linger, instead disappearing back down the stairs in a hurry.

“I’m just going to get changed, I’ll meet you down there,” Y/n said, wriggling out of his hold as soon as she could. “Don’t wait for me.”

“Don’t be too long, doll. I’ve missed you.”

He certainly had an odd way of showing that, considering he had disappeared for over twelve hours with not a word. But, once again, Y/n pushed that out of her mind and slipped on a simple white cover-up that was modest enough for dinner and padded downstairs to the patio where James had already tucked into his food. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her into a kiss, more of a display to the staff around them than anything else.

Seafood was never Y/n’s preference, so once she was sat across the table, her fork picked at parts of the salad, occasionally stomaching an oyster that James pushed her way. He glanced at her plate with a frown

“Are you on a new diet?”

Y/n almost dropped her fork and quickly fumbled to catch it before it clattered to the floor. “No,” she replied, mortified. “Should I be?”

James just shrugged, leaning back in his chair as he took a swig of his drink. His tanned chest was exposed and he revelled in the feeling of the sun on his skin, something he missed working in an office all day.

“That’s not up to me. I just want you to look good.” His vague response left a sour taste in Y/n mouth and she shifted in her seat uncomfortably, subtly adjusting the way the cover-up sat around her stomach.

“Then why did you ask?” Her mind cast back to the earlier photoshoot and the tight fitting clothes she’d squeezed into per the stylist’s request. Did they all think she needed to be on a diet too?

“You’re so sensitive,” James replied, wiping his mouth on a napkin. “It was just a question, just eat your food, doll. Or don’t, I don’t care.” Y/n looked down at her dish and pushed a cherry tomato around before eventually dropping her fork to the side with a clink. Despite how fresh her salad tasted, James’ words sank to her stomach like a stone and she felt disgusted at the thought. “What are you doing on Friday night?”

“I don’t think I’ve got anything planned, but I’ll need to check with Natasha-”

“You’re coming to the charity ball with me.” It wasn’t a request, it was a demand, and Y/n just nodded. “Rogers said it’s non-negotiable and you know how much I love having you on my arm. Rumlow will be there too, which is a bonus.” Y/n’s stomach lurched at the thought of seeing that man again. He was far too handsy for her liking and had zero respect for women, especially her. “It’ll give me another chance to show you off and put that asshole in his place.”

“James, you know I don’t feel comfortable around him-”

“I know, doll. But you’ve got me to protect you,” he countered, subtly flexing his arm that was placed behind his head.

But his words didn’t fill her with much hope. She hated feeling so helpless, but being surrounded by the men that James was associated with through work was like being surrounded by bears in a forest. How could she rely on her husband to keep her safe when he was now part of the reason why her hands shook? His slap had knocked her confidence away just like it did her breath, and the determination and independence she’d felt a few days ago was now nowhere to be seen. And she hated it.

“May I be excused?” Y/n asked, already feeling restless in her seat. James nodded and muttered something about a call, but she was already out of earshot by the time he’d finished.

Her legs didn't carry her up to her room like she expected. Instead, she found herself down the least familiar hallway, stopping outside a door she’d only knocked on once before.

A faint rustling was heard before the door flew open and Natasha’s face morphed from surprise to confusion at the sight of her mistress in the staff quarters.

“Can I come in? Please?” Neither Y/n or James ever ventured into the staff quarters, nevermind the rooms, but Natasha stepped aside and allowed her to enter, excusing how bare her room was.

“Is everything okay? You could have called for me.”

Y/n shook her head as she admired the neatness of Natasha’s living quarters. Her surfaces were dust free and bed made to perfection. “I don't know, I just wanted to get away from everything. And you’re the only person I could think of.”

Natasha frowned, her brows creasing as she watched her mistress peering out of the window at the gardens below. Y/n sensed her close presence and turned to face her, scanning her face and more importantly her eyes. A gentle hand raised to smooth the lines between the redhead’s brows upon instinct before Natasha stepped away, effectively placing a blockage between them.

“We should go somewhere else, Y/n, you shouldn’t be here.” It all felt wrong yet right and Natasha was so conscious of someone walking in on them. “Come, we can sit on the balcony.”

Y/n shook her head desperately. “No, James is out there on a call and I can’t face him right now. I don’t want to feel like I’m being watched anymore but there’s nowhere else I can go except to you and I shouldn’t, but you don’t understand, I can’t-”

“Y/n, breathe, it’s okay, I won’t make you go anywhere. What happened?”

“It’s pathetic,” she replied, adjusting the neckline of her coverup. “I’m just being ridiculous and sensitive, just like he said.”

“James?” Natasha probed, wishing she had been out on the patio to hear the conversation that had clearly shaken her mistress. “What did he say?”

“He just said something about a diet and I overreacted and asked if I should be on one and he got mad and I don’t know what the fuck is going on with me.”

“He said you should be on a diet?” Natasha repeated in disbelief. That was another score for the James Barnes hate chart, and if he didn’t pay her wages she’d have acted on her impulses a long time ago. They never quite saw eye to eye.

Y/n winced, feeling guilty for making the situation seem worse. A messy mind led to messy conversations and she just wanted to stop. “No, he-”

“So he said he doesn’t want you on one?”

“Well, not exactly, but that's all I can think about now. He wants me to look good, I’m his wife for god’s sake, I have to.” Her voice cracked and Y/n turned away from Natasha, moving back towards the door as doubt began to set in. “But what if I’m not enough, or perfect enough for him anymore? ”

Natasha had to fight to stop herself from speaking the words on her mind and she bit her lip. “No, Y/n, you are beautiful just the way you are. You don’t need a diet or anything like that,” she spoke softly. The other woman didn’t look convinced, so Natasha carefully stood up and opened her closet door to reveal a small mirror about ¾ of a full length. “Here, let me show you something.”

“Natasha, I can’t-”

“Y/n, please…” she trailed off, holding out her hand patiently. She wasn’t about to force her to do anything, Natasha could see the cogs whirring in her busy mind and knew what she was fighting. Half of her wanted to go and find James and kick him in the balls, just like she wanted to last night, but she was here for Y/n. Not him.

“I shouldn’t even be here, this was stupid-”

“No,” Natasha interrupted, stopping Y/n in her tracks. “What’s stupid is James making you feel as worthless as you do. Why do you listen to him?” Y/n avoided her gaze, choosing instead to twist her wedding ring around her finger, it suddenly feeling heavier than usual. “Do you not see how beautiful you are? How you give your heart out to anyone who needs it without caring what state it is in when you get it back? Do you not see that you are so much more than just his wife?” Natasha’s words were true, but they fell upon deaf ears and Y/n shook her head, reaching for the doorknob whilst trying to hide her trembling hands.

“I’m sorry…” she mumbled, not giving Natasha a chance to stop her before slipping back out into the hallway where she came from.

Natasha watched the door close dejectedly, her heart sinking. “Do you not see how much I love you?”

Y/n sped down the hallway with glassy eyes, her head more clouded than ever. She had so many questions, but who was she to ask when the two closest to her were the ones completely messing with her head, tugging it in opposite directions until the rope threatened to snap. She barely registered travelling back upstairs until she reached the bedroom door and threw it open without a care. James’ head turned at the noise and he spoke down the phone before hanging up and followed Y/n into her dressing room.

Y/n was completely lost with her thoughts when she felt his hands on her and barely reacted to his touch. His lips trailed up her neck to her ear and she tilted her head back purely on instinct. She felt too numb for this, but let him continue because she was his wife and that was her job. Nothing sparked her brain when he pulled her coverup off or when he picked her up and placed her on the dresser in the middle of the room. It was all muscle memory and he was too focused to notice her lack of enthusiasm.

How could so much change in twenty four hours? She lived an amazing life, incredibly privileged, so why wasn’t she happy? Couples fight all the time, her husband was an aggressive man, but a single slap didn’t mean much in the grand scheme of things. She’d get over it and maybe James would go back to being the loving husband he was before.

But even now, as his calloused hands pulled off her bikini top and pressed his lips to her soft skin, she doubted that her life would ever go back to the way it was. Not now that she had Natasha.

Yet that was nothing more than a fruitless desire. Because, despite her comebacks and displays of confidence towards her husband, he was more powerful than she would ever be and had the ability to ruin her life if she went against his wishes.

Was it worth it? Y/n really wasn’t sure. She would never be certain.

#natasha romanoff #marvel #fanfic #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff oneshot #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x female reader #james barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #midas touch

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emotionallyunstableduck · 8 months

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Safe space

Pairings: gojo x reader

Warnings: smidge of crying, gojo's a silly little attention seeker

a/n: I miss him so muchhhh. every week is torturous. My baby needs some comforting ASAP.

the last thing you were expecting to see was your ex-boyfriend Gojo Satoru standing in your doorway with a bruised eye and a busted lip.

"I almost died today" he said, almost not believing his own words, all the while you watched him in horror. "Satoru" he looks like a wet puppy you can't even bring yourself to be harsh "what the fuck happened to you". "I got beat up" he chuckled lowly "part of the job description i suppose". You pull him in seating him on your couch as your hands instinctively went to his face examining it as you gently touched the bruised areas "how did it get this bad" you said sort of wondering out loud "the simplest way to put it is that I got jumped" he tries to lighten the mood "jumped? how do you expect me to believe that satoru? how am i to believe that you of all people could take this much damage just by being jumped?". Why were you angry?

"i did not see them coming, I swear" he says, all giddy at your outburst. As usual, he loves to get a reaction out of you. "Can i stay the night?" his question popped out of nowhere "I- sure. Sure, stay the night. I'll get the guest room ready. " You give in, knowing full well you could never say no to him, not when he's like this. As you try to make past him, he pulls you back onto the couch, clutching onto your tee desperately. "Please stay." Those goddamn eyes. Everytime. It's almost like he knows the kind of effect they have on you.

"I'm only going to get your bed ready satoru" you try to free yourself but to no avail "I just want you right now. just wanna be close" i pulls you closer. All you could do was freeze up in his arms. The familiarity was piercing your heart.

Moments later you felt hot wet tears on you arm which instantly alarmed you. "Satoru" "I'm sorry I'm so sorry" he sobbed into you holding you close by your torso "I thought I was better off alone. I was wrong. So wrong. So so wrong. i'm sorry". His sobs were erratic and you ran your fingers through his hair in order to comfort him. "You were and will be the only best thing in my life. I want you to constitute my every waking second. It's the only way i can breath" his hands made their way up your tee grabbing and squeezing your waist. "Satoru you can't just show up and proclaim shit out of the blue" his only response was the chaste kiss he placed on your tummy before looking up at you with flushed face and those wet lashes and glossy lips. God why does he have to be this enamouring? Your face instantly heated up (the way I'll die from from a nosebleed if I ever see him like so).

"Y/N. Sweets. Please" that's all it took to break your resolve as you hug him back. He took it as a sing to pull you onto his lap. One of his large hands caressing your lower waist while the other cups your cheek as he look at you like you were something so divine for that is how he felt.

He slowly brought your face closer as he connected your lips encompassing your senses and numbing the surroundings. A little while later he pulled back leaving you dazed "god you make me crazy" he went right back in rougher, needier, sloppier. The raw emotion was spinning your head as you melted and gave up trying to decipher what's goin on. His hands all over your bare skin inching towards your chest as you struggled to catch up. Your little moans fuelled him as he pulled you even closer if that was even possible, sliding his tongue into your mouth sucking on yours. The only breaks were to take a sharp breath and to chant out little 'i love yous'.

You struggled to pull yourself together "Satoru your wounds" you say worried "oh these silly things" he snickered healing them with his reverse cursed energy. You just sat there in his lap dumbfounded as to who how you ever even trusted HIM.

"GOJO SATORU" you grabbed his collar "owwww so rough sweets. could have just asked me to remove my shirt" he said with his infamous shiteating grin "get outttt" "no wayyyy" he pulled you into his chest pepperring your neck with little kisses "I just got you back".

masterlist

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #gojo fluff #jjk x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n

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a-small-writer-in-a-big-world · 4 months

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Rescue pt. 1: knight!price x princess!reader

Warnings: talk of pregnancy, medieval standard for women, attempted kidnapping

The king was worse than you imagined, but perhaps you were being dramatic.

He had done nothing but spoke of himself, the money he had and everything else about him. You don't don't think you'd ever met a man who was more full of himself than the king and yet no one seemed to find an issue with that.

You had barely spoken to him, not that he gave you a chance, and he didn't seem to notice. You instead just spent most of you time smiling and nodding, not even wasting your energy to open your mouth.

You had also noticed that he seemed to eye the maids who walked past, paying them more attention than you, his future wife.

Was this supposed to be the rest of your life? Were you supposed to be an accessory that was decorated and put on display, being spoken at but never spoken to while your husband chased after other women?

Did your mother hate you? Why would she do this to you?

"For security." She had told you. "We need a strong ally and you are far too past the age to be unmarried, our people adore you but they talk."

It was naïve but you wished you were born in a time where you could marry for love instead. This security felt like a prison, this marriage would be your chains. You were already alone but you'd be more isolated than ever once he stole you away to his kingdom.

It took everything in you to keep yourself composed.

"I hope you're as excited as I am." The king finally addressed you later than night at dinner and you smiled instinctively.

"Of course, your majesty." Your words were like poison and left a bad taste in your mouth.

"My family and our kingdoms will grow. Soon we won't have to worry about any war."

His family.

You were paralyzed by that notion, disgusted by thinking about the man in front of you touching you or laying with you. You were sure that he'd forget about you if you were pregnant with his child or that would be the only time he'd pay attention to you. You'd be thrown to the side once you gave him an heir, you were sure of it.

Fear gripped your throat, your entire being and it became too much.

You had pushed these feelings away for months, you had ignored them and tried to convince yourself that you could do it for the sake of your kingdom and your people but you couldn't. You were terrified.

After dinner, you were supposed to make your way to your bedchamber, but once you were out of sight, you ran towards the garden.

You somehow slipped past the guards and ran to the river, but you didn't stop. Instead you ran into the forest and let the setting sun guide you far from the castle in hopes that maybe if you couldn't see it your problems would disappear as well.

You stopped when you realized there nowhere you could go. You could run to the nearest village and someone may recognize you or you'd be caught eventually by the knights. Any neighboring kingdom was too far and you'd die in the wilderness before you got close.

You were trapped.

"Are you lost, my lady?" A voice called out to you and you jumped.

A group of men stepped onto the path you were on. They looked as if they had been on the road for a while and judging by their destitute clothes they might not have a place to go to.

However, what sympathy you had for them quickly disappeared when you noticed the strange look in their eyes. You took a couple steps back, but noticed a couple other men appeared behind you.

"No." You said firmly, lying through your teeth. "I was on my way to the village."

One of the men scoffed and raised an eyebrow, not believing you. He seemed to have special interest in your dress and jewelry you were wearing, no doubt knowing exactly who you were.

"We could show you the way." He offered but you shook your head, slowly finding yourself being cornered by the men.

"I can find my own way, thank you." You swallowed hard.

"You'd be much safer with us, your highness."

You stepped away from them as quick as possible and grabbed a stick, brandishing it front of you to keep them away. You face burned when they laughed and you're not sure what it would do to help you but it was the only thing you could think of.

You could bargained them with money but they'd get more out of you if they held you for ransom.

One of the men lunged at you and you swung the stick, smacking him in the middle of the face, causing him to cry out. You hit another before one grabbed your from behind and forced your to drop the stick. You struggled and screamed before you felt something sharp poke underneath your jaw.

"You'll come complacent or dead." The man threatened as he made a show of the dagger.

Your heart nearly jumped out of your chest and you began to panic. You thought this would be it before you heard approaching hooves.

An arrow flew threw the air and hit another man square in the back before another sunk deep into a man's arm. Price rode in on his horse and drew his sword before he jumped off, engaging with the men.

He was much quicker than them and far more skilled. Iron clashed with each other and the men let out cries when Price cut them with his blade, going completely untouched.

You used the commotion to stamp your foot on the man and elbow him in the gut. You managed to push away from him, not before getting cut with his blade on your arm, before you ran away from him.

Price grabbed you and pulled you behind him. He stood in front of you protectively and kept his bloody sword brandished to deter the bandits from moving any closer to you.

"Stay behind me." He told you lowly. "I'll keep you safe."

You blame the reason why your chest was set aflame on the adrenaline coursing through your veins.

Some of the bandits were dead, lying in a pool of their own blood, while others held onto their bleeding wounds. Their leader glared at Price but he didn't falter.

"Bastard knight." The leader spat.

"You wouldn't want to lose more of your men would you, eh?" He stood tall and kept a fierce, but confident look in his eyes. "I'm more than willing to let you if that's what you want however."

The bandit thought for just a moment they all ran away into the forest.

Your arm stung and you placed your hand over the wound while you watched them run. Warm blood stained your hand but you were more focus on Price in front of you, unable to take your eyes off the back of his head.

The warmth in your chest only grew as he turned to you, his eyes sharp but laced with concern.

a/n: i think i know who fell first or at least who i want to fall first

Tags. @deadbranch @makayla-666 @glitterypirateduck @dumbbitchgalore @m0chac0ffee @dragonbe-writing @sleepyoriana @twismare

#knight!price #captain john price x reader #captain john price x you #john price x you #price x reader #price x you #captain john price #rpincess!reader #au #john price x reader #call of duty

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maconthepen · 1 year

Text

I want to quit my job.

I want to get a new job.

I want to live in the city next to a cafe where they know my name and start making my coffee before I've finished walking through the door.

I want to live in a house in the middle of nowhere where I make my coffee with a Moka pot, swaying to the sound of a Billie Holiday record. My house will have a garden full of vegetables and bees, and in the middle of that garden, there will be a lemon tree just like my best friend's nonno used to have.

I want to go to cooking school.

I want to learn how to brew beer.

I want to go back to university and study literature so I can spend my nights immersed in Marlowe and Shelley and the Brontës and Alasdair Grey.

I never want to school again. Instead, I'll study the law and psychology and design from the storyteller armchair in the corner of my living room.

I want to travel, I want to run, to pick up a few outfits and fuck off and call myself by a new name and cut my hair and wear clothes I'd never believe I could wear.

I want a home in the place I was born and a cat and a husband who will happily talk with me about Star Trek for three hours.

I want move to Italy.

I want to make love to a woman again.

I want to live a thousand lives. Sometimes the impossibility of that makes me so angry I get breathless. And when I dig beneath the anger, I realise it's not anger at all. it's fear. Fear that I am not living any kind of life while I lie in my bed half the day dreaming about all of this with fog in my brain and muscles that don't remember how to give someone a hug.

#writing #or a therapy session

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lowkeychenle · 8 months

Text

Within the Piano Keys [ZCL] (M)

Description: For as long as you could remember, Chenle has been your neighbor and childhood best friend. That is, until one day he disappears without a word...or so you thought, since your mother hid all the letters he sent you.

Genre: Fluff/Angst/Smut triple threat ygm

Content Warnings: This fic contains letters from Chenle (purely fictional duh) but does mention things about the graduation system/the Dreamies going through a rough time just FYI! Just a brief mention. And also, smut. this has smut, but it's soft and cute smut because why not.......so literally that's it I think? Who I am these are some light content warnings

Word Count: 7,707

Pairing: Zhong Chenle x Reader (feat (briefly) Jeno & Jaemin, mentions of Mark and Jisung)

Juliet's Masterlist | Requests

Author's Note: This gif actually kills me someone send 911 emergency services sos zhong chenle is killing me AGAIN

The ghost of the past will always find you.

There’s no outrunning destiny. Who and what you were made to be. And you sure as hell love to try—pushing yourself to change as much as possible to keep Fate on her toes. Sometimes, it’s inevitable. Sometimes, people are placed on the Earth with a specific purpose, and you were sure yours was him. At a mere seven years old, your life changed forever—in a way you never saw coming. When you think about it, you don’t think Fate saw it, either.

Because you met him then.

You remember the day in vivid detail. The soft, sweet melody of the piano drifting through the house, up the stairs, and beneath your bedroom door where you stand, looking for your butterfly hair clip you adore oh so much.

When your frustration reaches its peak and you sit down with a huff on the edge of your bed, you hear it. Your heart seems to beat along with the music, every key pressed making you wonder just who is playing downstairs.

It’s from Phantom of the Opera, a song titled “All I Ask of You.” The melody is full, transcending your body into peace the moment you realize what it is.

After taking a deep breath, you hesitantly make your way down the winding, spiral staircase, fingers tracing along the railings as if they’re too delicate to actually hold on to. Your steps echo downward, but as the young boy comes into view, you stop.

Not even your noisy intrusion breaks him from his music-induced trance. His entire body moves along with the sound, his eyes closed as he presses each note with perfection. His black hair is a bit longer than it probably should be, with a middle part to expose his forehead. His defined brows are furrowed, and even at his age, you’ve never seen someone look wiser than this boy does right at this moment.

You feel the song in your bones, deep within your soul in such an existential way, you aren’t sure if you’ll ever feel anything like it again. A silly, juvenile thought. You don’t know it right now, but you’d feel like that every time you were around him.

As the song comes to a close, he holds out the last note, inhaling deeply as if he hasn’t been breathing the entire time.

His eyes flutter open, warm brown irises immediately meeting yours. You hadn’t expected such depth, but you’d learn eventually never to expect anything with him—in the end, you would only build yourself up to fall…over and over and over again.

Here you stand, locked in a metaphorical embrace with a kid who can’t be any older than you, yet he seems…different. Like he’s seen enough in his lifetime to age him beyond physicality.

That was the day you started to believe in fate. The day he left was when you stopped.

Hours turned into weeks, and before you know it, the boy next door became your friend. Most times, you’d sit on the bench while he plays piano and watch incredulously. His musical talent always astounds you—he can sing, play instruments, write songs and compose them.

Sometimes, he’d ask you to sing the songs he played, and even though you felt nowhere near as talented as him, you did what he wanted. He’d join in with you occasionally, your voices blending together seemingly effortlessly.

Those weeks turned into years—two kids learning more and more about each other. He’d become more than a friend. You were twelve years old when you realized the connection you had with Chenle. When everything pieced together, and you understood that some hearts, some souls, are much older than you could ever fathom. Your heart, you were sure, stretched beyond your years, and your soul was kindred with Chenle’s in a way that could only mean you’d known each other in a past life. Slowly, slowly, slowly…he was everything, all at once.

“You’ve almost got it,” he whispered to you, adjusting your ring finger on the keys. “Just gotta move over a little bit more.”

You pouted. “My hands aren’t big enough, Lele.”

“Stop that.” He chuckled, shaking his head and nudging your shoulder. “That mindset is gonna keep you from learning.”

“Well, if my mindset doesn’t do it, the arthritis at a young age will,” you snipped.

His eyes sparkled with humor, crinkling at the edges as his smile widened. “You’ll get it eventually. Keep trying.”

“What if I don’t?”

“Then I’ll tell you that you suck and you should never play again.”

You snorted. “Promise?”

He held up his pinky. “I’d never lie to you.”

You looped yours with his.

“You’ll get it.”

Chenle never gave up on you. He kept pushing you to be the best you could be, and you gladly followed his direction. You never quite got as good as he was with the piano, but you’d gotten decent at least. The two of you would hang out every day, spending every waking, free moment together until your mom told him it was time to go home.

You’d never thought about love and what it meant. For you, loving Chenle was as natural as breathing, and as time went on, it only got easier.

You turned fourteen before Chenle. If you had known this was the beginning of your last year with him, you would’ve appreciated it more. You would’ve told him all of the things lingering on your mind—how you loved him, so purely and genuinely.

Just days before your life blew up in your face, you almost told him.

He sat next to you on your bed, arm wrapped around you as you rested your head on his shoulder. The soft golden light of the lamp illuminated him gently, and the movie playing in the background edges you closer and closer to sleep.

“Do you ever think about…life?” he asked.

“Hm?” You scrunched your nose, your half-asleep state not registering what he meant.

“Like…what your plans are. What you want to do and who you want to be with.” His thumb brushed your skin soothingly. “We have to figure it out soon, don’t we? We’re almost adults.”

“You’re not tired?” You sat up and rubbed your forehead.

“Nope.”

“Well.” You sighed and ran your fingers through your hair. “The only thing I’m certain about when it comes to the future is that you’ll be there. So, it doesn’t matter what else happens.”

He smiled softly, the slightest shade of red tinting his cheeks. “Even if the world ended?”

“Even if the world ended.” You confirmed.

A few months later, the world did end. At least, yours did.

He was gone.

His mom left shortly after him, but she told you what he was doing—how he was going to pursue his music career in South Korea. He was going to be an idol, and he was leaving you behind to do it.

Your world ended, but his got to go on without you.

At twenty-one years old, you’re still not sure where you went wrong. Chenle left, but his memory plagues the very walls you live within. You keep up with him, with his group and all of the things they’re doing. Even though you’re not with him, you watch him grow and grow into a more confident version of the young boy you knew.

Seven years without him should have been impossible, yet here you are: alive, well, and watching any and all Chenle related content. You haven’t heard from him, not once. Assumingly, he’s incredibly busy. Even then, you wonder occasionally if you ever cross his mind, if he ever thinks of the love he left behind.

Ever since, you’ve been sensitive over the summer months. A part of you is missing, and until you see him again, you’re unsure if you’ll ever find it. Has he changed? Is he still the boy you loved?

On days where thoughts of him overwhelms you, you like to walk the trail behind your house. It takes you through a wooded area, and the other end brings you to the end of your street. On your walk back, you see an unfamiliar car outside of Chenle’s family’s home. Curiosity gets the better of you, and you stand there to watch.

The door slides open, and you hear an unfamiliar laugh. Frowning, you cross your arms over your chest. Who the hell would be at Chenle’s house?

When the first person gets out of the car, your heart stops in your chest. You’re about eighty percent sure that’s Lee Jeno, light hair reflecting the bright sunlight above. If that’s Jeno, then—

You feel a sudden urge to run into your house, slam the door, and lock it behind you. Several other people are in that car, and if they’re here…one of them is Chenle. Your Chenle, who isn’t really yours. Not anymore.

Jaemin gets out next. His roots are dark, nearly overshadowing the pink hue on top of his head. He swats at someone behind him, laughing, and as that person comes into view, your heart stops. It shreds itself to pieces.

Jeno notices you first, a slight frown gracing his face before Chenle’s gaze follows his line of sight. When he sees you, you instantly see the recognition on his face.

Seven years is a long time. Hell, even though you’ve seen all of Dream’s content, you’re still shocked to see how different he looks. His face is more defined. He’s grown a bit taller, too.

He sees you. He’s looking at you for the first time in years, and all you want to do is forget all this time of no contact, all the ways the two of you hadn’t reached out to each other. A lump forms in your throat, and before you do something stupid, you let out a shaky breath, turn away from him, and make your way into your house.

You shut the door behind you, your back thudding against it. Glancing over to your right, the grand piano—old and loved—is blurred by your tears, and for the briefest of moments, you swear you see your younger self sitting there, endlessly playing the songs Chenle taught you before he left.

A knock sounds, and each one echoes throughout your house, feeling like a hole-puncher on your heart. You’re barely able to breathe as you prepare yourself to be face-to-face with Chenle for the first time in almost a decade—for the first time since he up and disappeared on you without a word.

“(Y/N)?” His voice. So familiar but so distant, all the same as it was.

You don’t answer. You can’t.

“I’m coming in, okay?”

You brace yourself against the solid wood of the piano, doing your best to calm yourself. The last thing you need is to make a fool of yourself in front of him.

A hesitant creak fills your ears, and the tap of his shoes on the hardwood flooring has your eyes clenching shut.

“Why’d you run off like that?” he asks, voice so soft that it’s barely audible.

“I didn’t.”

“You still sound the same,” he says it quietly, as if he’s the only one meant to hear it. He raises his voice so you can hear him. “It’s been a long time.”

You scoff, whipping around to face him. “It’s been a long time? That’s all you have to say to me?” Anger bubbles in your gut, quickly replacing the hurt lingering.

You have to stop yourself from admiring him at a time like this. His oversized T-shirt somehow compliments him in the best ways, his hair is a tinted shade of purple, and when his fingers run through it, you have to look away. Sure, you should’ve expected to see him again at some point, but you never imagined you’d feel the same. It’s a bit different now that you’re older. You’re able to see him in a different light.

His eyes widen and he recoils. “I…I’m sorry, I don’t know what else I’m supposed to say. It’s not like there’s a textbook on how to do this.”

“What are you doing here? Why now?” You cross your arms over your chest, doing your best to avoid his eyes.

“We’re here on a schedule.” He slides his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. “I told them about you, in case you were wondering.”

“Oh, right.” You let out a sarcastic laugh. “I suppose that makes it all okay, right? You tell your friends I exist and that’s supposed to change how you up and left me without a word?”

He frowns. “Without a word?”

“Yeah, Chenle. Without a single fucking word.”

“That’s not true.” His tone sharpens to match yours. “I wrote to you. A lot. And if you didn’t want to read them, that’s on you. That doesn’t mean I left without a word. There were a lot of words, actually.”

“Why didn’t I get them?” Your voice drops into a whisper, moving one of your hands to touch your forehead.

“I…I don’t know. I didn’t know your address so I sent them to my mom, and she told me every time she gave one to your mom—”

A jolt of electricity rages up your spine, and you immediately turn away from him and run up the staircase. Your mother’s out of town for the week. If she’s been hiding letters from you, they’d be in her room somewhere—and you’d tear that place apart if it meant you had all those words.

“Where are you—hey!”

You’re already in your mom’s closet when Chenle follows you in.

“You shouldn’t be in here—”

“Says you,” you interrupt him, mindlessly shuffling through anything that looks like it could hold letters. “How many?”

“What?”

“How many did you send, Chenle?”

“Um.” He pauses, shifting on his feet. “I don’t know. A few? I stopped after a while because I didn’t hear anything. Figured you didn’t want anything else.”

“My God,” you mutter, blinking rapidly to fight off the tears. “And you swear your mom gave them to mine?”

“I—yeah, she didn’t have a reason not to.”

“And my mom had a reason not to give them to—shit. When did you send the first one?”

“(Y/N), it was seven years ago.”

“Was it right when you left or afterward?” You haphazardly dig through the closet, searching high and low.

“I left it here. I told my mom about it after a week or so. What the hell is going on?” Chenle runs his fingers through his hair again, gulping. “We really shouldn’t be in here.”

Your heart sinks. There’s nothing in here. You’ll never find Chenle’s letters, and the mystery will always be just that.

“I…I’m so sorry.” You drop your head into your hands. “I’m acting like an idiot right now.”

“Don’t be sorry, I’m just confused. This whole time, I thought you didn’t want anything to do with me…that’s why I haven’t been back in a while.” Chenle takes a step closer to you, reaching out to touch your arm. “I would never leave you.”

You finally look at him. Really look at him. The worried furrow to his brow, the slight downturn of his lips, concern clouding those beautiful irises of his. Standing in front of you is the reason you are who you are today.

“You just…Okay, I need a while to figure all of this out.” You glance up to the ceiling, closing your eyes and taking a shuddering breath. “Can you go? I don’t really want to see you right now.”

Hurt plays out on his face, but after he blinks a few times, he nods slowly. “Yeah. Sure. Um, I’ll see you later. If it helps any, I probably could’ve tried to call or something.”

“We were kids.” You sigh. “It wouldn’t have changed anything.”

You say that, but it would have. The entire trajectory of your life may have changed if Chenle was still in it back then. As much as you want to be pissed at your mother for hiding things from you, maybe she was right.

Chenle takes his bottom lip between his teeth, looking you over one more time as he nods. “Right. I…I’ll see you around.”

Before you respond, he’s turning away from you and disappearing down the hall. You feel a lot of things—overwhelmed, confused, sad. But you also almost feel naive for listening to him—for believing that your mother hid things from you. Your brain stops being logical when Chenle’s around, and you know it’s a mistake to bring him back into your life. The hurt has passed, but that doesn’t mean it won’t rear its ugly head if you’re in such close proximity to him.

You go back downstairs to grab your phone, and the first thing you do is dial your mom’s number. She picks up after the first ring.

“Hi, honey! I was about to text you. New York is fascinating! You’d love it—”

“Did Chenle write me letters?”

“Oh.” She clears her throat. “Where is this coming from?”

“He’s here,” you mutter. “He told me he sent me letters, mom.”

“(Y/N), you have to understand where I was coming from.”

“Where are they?” You slap your hand to your forehead. “Where?”

“He still left, you know. I understand he’s important to you, but he still chose a career over you. And you would’ve thrown everything away for him without a second thought.” Your mom takes a deep breath. “You needed to live your life for you.”

“Where are they?” you repeat. “If you threw them away, I will never forgive you.”

“Of course, I didn’t throw them away. They’re in my closet in a little gold box on the floor. When you read those…don’t get any ideas. He lives far away and he’s even less available for you now than he was before.”

You hang up without saying another word and run back up the stairs. It takes you only a few seconds to find the box she told you about. When you open it, your breath shudders at the stack of letters in there. Some are aged and crinkly, but the ones toward the top are newer. Your hands shake as you grab them, mouth dry as you see the dates listed across the front of the envelope.

You start with the one on the bottom, the oldest, and ever so carefully opening it. Blinking back tears, you take in the painfully familiar handwriting that belonged to your Chenle.

(Y/N)

This is probably the worst way to do this, I know. I’m leaving to follow my dreams, and while I wish I could take you with me, it doesn’t make sense. Your mom would never agree to let you come. Thinking of going through all of this without you scares me more than I care to admit.

I don’t have a phone yet, but as soon as I get one, I’ll send you a letter with the number! It’ll be nice to hear your voice again. I’m writing this early, so I actually spoke with you earlier today, but it’s funny how quickly I miss you.

You’re probably going to be really mad at me, and that’s okay. I deserve it. The reason I didn’t tell you isn’t very simple, but I hope you understand it. Saying goodbye to you would feel so permanent. Goodbye itself is too permanent for my liking, so I’ve never liked them.

If I looked into your eyes and told you I was leaving, I was scared that I wouldn’t be able to go. Or that I’d sneak you with me in my carry-on. I didn’t want to hurt you. You mean so much to me, (Y/N). I don’t ever want to make you upset, and I know you’ll eventually understand why I had to do it this way.

Just know I’ll be thinking about you every day. You’re the reason I’ll have the strength to get through this training period.

Talk to you soon,

Your Chenle

You trace your finger along the bottom of the page. Face wet, you clear your throat as you delicately set it aside to grab the next one. According to the date on the envelope, it’s from a few months after the first one.

(Y/N),

These past few months have been so hectic. I think I almost died a couple times, but here I am. I debuted last week! I’m in a group called NCT, but I debuted in the sub-unit NCT DREAM. It seems surreal, and it happened so much faster than I thought.

I think you’d like the other guys. They’re nice and loud and friendly. Honestly, they seem like they’ve been working together for a little bit of time already, so I’m the newest one here. I heard someone say they’d been training for a while…

Anyway, I said in the last letter that I’d give you my phone number. I realized after I left that you didn’t have one either, so…I’m not sure how that’ll work. And I wasn’t expecting a response to these at all, but if you want to write back, it’d give me something to look forward to after all this hecticness.

But yeah…honestly, I was a bit worried about moving here and being in a group. I’ve been learning a lot of Korean though, and another member named Jisung has been helping me a lot. He’s a few months younger than me, can you believe it? Everyone treats him like a baby, but I think he likes it. I told them about you, and they all kept teasing me.

Maybe they just don’t understand. You’re my favorite person, of course, I’m going to talk about you and tell them stories about all the fun we had.

Sorry this one is a bit long. I hope you’re not too mad at me. And I also hope that you’re keeping up on me. I think you’d like Chewing Gum…

I’ll talk to you soon! I’ll write my number down at the bottom of the page.

Your Chenle

You have to take a break. You rest your head back against the wall, closing your eyes and imagining how hurt poor, young Chenle must have been when you never responded to his heartfelt letters. You don’t know much about Jisung—besides the obvious, public information—but you’re happy someone was good and helpful to him.

After that, you wonder what it would’ve been like to be there for him through all of that. Based on what you know about his group, he’s been through a lot of ups and downs over the years. You wonder if he wrote about some of the harder things, too.

You read another one that’s about their promotions, how he’s getting closer with the other members. Then one about how he performed with twenty-two others. The next one you grab is dated from 2019. You open it.

(Y/N),

I didn’t think this year would be as hard as it has been. We all expected it, you know? We knew it was going to happen, but it doesn’t change how scary it’s been. I’m sorry it’s been a while since I’ve written. Maybe you just throw them away at this point, which is fine, but I wish I could hear from you. Especially at a time like this.

Dream has a graduation system, and Mark’s been gone for months now. Things have been continuing ‘as normal,’ but without Mark, we don’t really feel complete as a group. We see him as often as we can, but performing without him is…it feels wrong.

I wish I could see you. You’d make everything better in an instant, just like you always did. Sometimes, I feel terrible because the others get sad about the situation, and I can’t figure out any good words to say. You’ve always been so good at comforting others, I wish you were here to help me.

It’s been two years since I’ve seen you. That’s so weird to think about, because I swear I still hear your voice in my head. Your encouraging words, how you always believed in me. I need that now more than ever.

I’m not sure if you know much about Mark, but he’s our rock. We kind of fail to function without him. But in the spirit of missing both you and Mark, I’ll tell you a little story about what happened when I asked Mark for advice.

I asked him about you—about what I could possibly do to make all of this up to you since you deserve it. And not hearing back from you makes me think you might hate me.

Anyway, his question in response was interesting. He wanted to know what you were to me. How I felt about you. At first, I thought he was crazy. I mean, it was obvious—you’re my best friend. I can’t live and function without my best friend.

He asked if that was all.

I vividly remember scrunching up my face and pushing his shoulder. Not too hard, by the way.

But the more he told me about what it felt like to be in love, everything clicked into place. I’m in love with you, (Y/N). I have been for so long that it started feeling like second nature instead of a conscious idea.

I guess it doesn’t matter now. Maybe I’ve failed you too much for it to mean anything to you.

Loss sucks. Losing Mark in Dream has sucked, losing you before I even realized the extent of my feelings sucked, but at the end of the day, I have to keep pushing forward. I’m sorry for any hurt I may have caused, because this situation with Mark also made me realize how much it must have hurt you for me to up and disappear the way I did.

I’m so, so sorry. I hope you can forgive me.

Your Chenle

You wipe angrily at your tears, unsure if you should be mad at yourself or at your mother. She stole this from you. Chenle figured out his feelings for you long before you figured out yours for him, but it feels like a new revelation—to know he felt the same way, even after years without you.

You remember this time where Mark had ‘graduated’ from NCT Dream. And because you knew Chenle well, you could tell he was struggling, even when he put on a happy facade. He needed you, and you weren’t there for him.

No matter how much it hurts, you can’t stop. You grab the next one. His writing became less frequent after that. He wrote to tell you when NCT Dream became a fixed unit, and how happy he was to be reunited as seven. The next was from their first full album. You find the last one, surprised to find how recent it was. There was a large gap between this one and the one before it.

The letter was addressed from a few months ago. The one before had been from two years ago.

(Y/N),

I’m sorry it’s been a while. Honestly, we’ve been so busy, I’ve barely even had the time to sleep. I got news today that we’ll be going to China for an event. I’m coming home, but I figured I should tell you in advance. Give you some time in case you really don’t want to see me.

I still think of you every day. All I want is to hear your voice again, but I won’t ask you to do something you don’t want to. If you have no intention of seeing me, that’s fine. I know I messed this up, but I figured it wouldn’t be right to give up when I’ll be so close.

We’ll be arriving in the next few weeks. I wish I could give you more detailed information, but I won’t even know it until the day of.

If this is it for us, thank you for the time I had with you. I love you, (Y/N). No matter what, that’ll be true, but this will be the last thing I send. I hope you understand.

Love,

Your Chenle

At this point, you’re bawling your eyes out. You aggressively wipe away the tears, cursing yourself for not knowing about these damn letters. All the pain you could’ve helped him through, all the hurt it could’ve saved you from.

You sniffle, grab your phone, and dial the number at the bottom of the second letter. It’s been years since he gave it to you, so there’s a good chance it’s different now. But you don’t exactly feel like going over to his house while his friends are there and making a fool of yourself.

“Hello?” That’s definitely his voice.

“Chenle,” you breathe out, closing your eyes. “My Chenle.”

“Yeah.” His tone softens. “Yeah, yours. Always yours.”

Running your fingers through your hair, you sigh. “I found them. All of them. I’m so fucking sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he says. “It’s not like you even knew about them. Give me one second, I’m gonna go upstairs. Jeno and Jaemin are still here.”

You nod even though he can’t see you, and you hear him say something to the other guys. They reply, and then you hear the tell-tale sound of the stairs creaking beneath Chenle’s feet. Once he makes it up to his bedroom, he closes the door behind him.

“Are you okay?” he asks. “That’s a lot to read all at once.”

“I don’t know. I’m so mad, Lele. How could she hide those from me? If I’d known you didn’t just leave me, it would’ve hurt so much less. And seeing all this pain you went through all by yourself…I’m so sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” he tells you. “We know the truth now. I don’t want you to hate me.”

“I could never hate you,” you whisper, burying your head in your palm. “Not even if I tried.”

There’s a brief silence, only filled with the sounds of you sniffling and Chenle breathing. He’s right next door, but the idea of being with him is too real. You need time to process all of this, and bringing him around while you do isn’t the best idea.

“You said you loved me.”

“Love,” he corrects you. “Present tense. I never stopped.”

“I kept up with you.” You play with the seam of your jeans. “With everything you did with Dream and all the accomplishments you’ve had so far. I’ve been so proud of you with no way to say it.”

“I almost stopped writing letters. Mark convinced me not to give up, but after seven years I was pretty sure you wouldn’t change your mind,” he admits.

“If I’d been receiving them I would’ve called you the second you gave me your number.”

“That’s what I’d been hoping for.” Chenle takes a deep breath. “We have to go soon for a schedule, but can I come see you later?”

Later wasn’t really definitive. The thought of him in your house and in your space is scary, terrifying even, but this is Chenle. The boy who used to play piano with you and sing to his heart’s content. From what you’ve seen, this version of him doesn’t seem too different than that boy.

“Please,” you whisper. “Will you be hungry? I can make you something.”

“It’ll be late. Don’t worry about me. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

Not too long after your conversation, you hear the three boys clamber into the van. You try to busy yourself throughout the day, cleaning in order to distract yourself. Eventually, you sit down at the piano and play whatever song comes to memory. One of the ones Chenle taught you back when he was here.

You taught yourself a few of Dream’s songs as well, like Rainbow, My Youth, Puzzle Piece, Teddy Bear, and most recently, Like We Just Met from their newest album. You play the last one, the darkness cascading around you as the sunset fades away from view. It’s only you and the starlight now, a gentle melody flooding through the air around you.

The door creaks open, and Chenle walks through when you’re almost done with the song. You stop playing, standing up to greet him. There’s an odd moment where you stand there staring at each other, admiring the way the starlight reflects off his skin. His eyebrows are furrowed, like he’s trying to decide what to do next.

You don’t hesitate anymore. Moving forward, you wrap your arms around him and bury your head in his chest. He immediately reciprocates, shaky breath passing by his lips as he holds you closely. His heart thrashes, the sound more than similar to yours.

“I missed you,” he says.

“I missed you, too,” you reply easily, tightening your grip on him.

You pull back slightly to look into his eyes, wetness gathered beneath them. With shaky hands, you reach up to wipe it away. His gaze travels over your face.

“You love me.”

He nods hesitantly, palms pressing into the small of your back. “Always have.”

“I’ve always loved you, too.” Before you talk yourself out of it, you’re on the tips of your toes to kiss him. It starts gently, your mouth barely brushing his before his breath catches in his throat. Then it’s real—he pulls you flush against him, lips fitting with yours like he’s made for you.

You move your hands from his cheeks to his hair, leaning into him. His fingers latch onto the fabric of your shirt. Next thing you know, he’s walking you backward until he’s pressing your back into a wall.

“We have so much to talk about.” He rests his forehead on yours. “So much air to clear up.”

“Yeah.” You nod, but your stare is focused directly on his lips.

“This isn’t going to be easy,” he warns you. “I don’t get to come here often, so unless you were to come to Korea, we’d pretty much never see each other. My schedules are so packed, I’m practicing all day and half-dead by the time I get home. I can be a real asshole when I’m tired, and sometimes I might take jokes too far. This life is not easy, (Y/N). I need you to know what you’re getting yourself into.”

“What am I even doing here?” you ask. “I can come with you.”

“I can’t ask you to give up everything you have for me.” He shakes his head, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“You’re not asking. Chenle, I spent years thinking you were gone without a word. All I want is to be with you as much as possible.”

“At least think about it for a little bit first, okay? I don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret.” He gulps. “That goes for a lot of things.”

“I’ve had seven years to think about all the things I wanted from you.”

“You can’t say things like that,” he mutters.

You’re painfully aware of what it feels like to have him pressed against you, warm in all the right ways and, despite being so thin, he’s firm to the touch. The ache you feel to be closer to him is overwhelming.

“I spent years thinking everything was a lie,” you tell him. “That I couldn’t possibly have mattered to you if you could just disappear without a word.”

His fingers play with yours, discomfort at the idea plastered across his face. “Never. I never would’ve done that. You’ve always meant so much to me.”

“I’m just happy I finally get to tell you all of the things I wanted to tell you after I found out you were gone.” You give him the smallest smile, and he reaches up to trace along your bottom lip.

The simple touch sends sparks flying down your spine, and you’re sure you’ll crumble to dust right at his feet from the forceful impact of it. An odd tug occurs in your chest, one that has you questioning if you’ve ever experienced it before. It pulls you toward him, and despite being flush, your mind dips to dangerous places that could get you so, so much closer.

You’re not sure what’s gotten into you, but this is Chenle. Your Chenle. And if you’re having these feelings for him, there’s no need to hide it.

“I…” you trail off, clenching onto the fabric of his shirt, right above his heart. “Do you feel it, too? Everything is…different now.”

“Under other circumstances, I’d say different is bad,” he whispers. “But there’s nothing bad about the way you’re looking at me.”

His arms wrap around your waist tightly, and simultaneously, you both lean in until your lips are locked in a gentle battle. The warmth of his touch finds your hip, where your sweater rose up enough to reveal your skin. You let out a shaky sigh, and he squeezes you.

“Come upstairs with me?” Your invite is airy, suggestive, and he analyzes you while his gaze darkens.

“If that’s what you want,” he says.

“Is it what you want?” You tilt your head at him, voice quiet since he’s so close.

He pauses and wets his lips. “Of course, it is. I just don’t want you to regret anything. Losing you once was enough, and I refuse to go through that again.”

Instead of answering, you intertwine your fingers with his and lead him toward the stairs, through the blackness of the night casting through the windows. You take one step at a time, your heart thundering and blood pulsing through your veins. One look at your shoulder, and for a second, you almost swear you see the younger versions of you and Chenle sitting by the piano. Caught up in the music. In each other.

He follows you, entranced by the way you move and how you’re so willingly guiding him. Everything happens in slow motion for you. Too fast but too slow at the same time, somehow the moment you’ve waited for your entire life while simultaneously the thing that’s scared you the most.

Your Chenle.

He said it himself. Why is it so foreign to think about? That maybe, even after all this time, he loves you even an ounce of how much you love him? Endless devotion with no contact. But he did the same—he waited and waited for your response much like you waited for any contact from him. You were both physically and metaphorically in the dark.

The door to your bedroom creaks as you push it open, embarrassed by how little it’s changed since the last time he was in it. The walls are still the same color, faded and paint peeling in some of the corners. Your bed has been swapped from twin-sized to a queen, but everything else is virtually untouched.

No more words are spoken.

They’re not needed.

You don’t need anything. Not when you have him.

He presses your body into the mattress, climbing over you gently. His touch is tender, sweet, not too much pressure. You’re halfway certain you’ll wake up from this dream any time now, and you’ll once again be without him. Without his touch and his love and his truths.

Kissing him is like touching the sun. It burns, nearly enough to make you combust into flames, but magnetic. He is your sun, and you are the Earth. You revolve around him.

Normally, anyone else taking your clothes off would make you nervous, but you know you’re in good hands with Chenle. Your shirt is tossed aside first, his mouth instantly dipping down to explore every inch of exposed skin. His tongue drags along the swells of your breasts, over your collarbones. He nips, teeth leaving shallow indents on your soft flesh.

Your whines are soft, delicately slicing into the silence of the air. The first time he hears you, he freezes, his eyelashes fluttering against your neck as he takes in the way you sound. Quiet cries of ‘more’ escape you while your hands explore beneath his T-shirt.

Never before in your life have you wanted someone with such despracy. Your body aches for him, and the tug in your chest that pulled you closer to him has finally revealed how. As his fingers pop the button on your jeans, you lift your hips.

He pulls his lips away from your chest, gaze honing in on yours. There’s something swirling around in his irises, and you’re sure yours reflect the same. He doesn’t have to ask the question on the tip of his tongue. Not verbally. You nod, guiding his mouth back to yours.

The heat of his touch dips dangerously low, past your jeans and the hem of your panties. You gasp, appreciative of how he catches the sound. You’ve been touched before, but nobody has ever compared to the way he feels. When you’ve met your soulmate, nothing could be better.

He rubs slow circles on your clit, eyes hazy from knowing he’s the one who made you feel this way. Normally, you’d need more. A simple touch wouldn’t be enough to have you squirming in someone’s grasp, but there’s so much more behind his movements than lust.

And he takes it a step further, sliding his long fingers inside you. His gaze focuses on you the whole time, watching your face for any sign of discomfort as he thrusts his hand. He nudges your sensitive bud with the heel of his palm every time he’s knuckle deep.

Your stomach feels elastic, as if you’re stretching a rubber band, and it’s taking everything you have not to let it snap back. It’s too good. Too intoxicating. Too early for it to be over. He swallows your short moans, picking up his pace. You lean up, yearning for his kiss. He doesn’t need to ask, and the second your lips meet, you tighten around him, and it’s over.

Warmth spreads all over your body, your insides boil, and butterflies swarm deep in your stomach. Your eyes shut, and your head falls back against your pillow. He kisses all over your face, humming quietly.

He pulls away from you to help you remove the last of your clothing, the fabric of your panties sticking uncomfortably until he tugs them down your legs.

You reach down to feel him through his pants, unable to stop the shuddering breath that escapes you when you touch his length. He grinds into your hand, taking his bottom lip between his teeth.

Finally, nothing separates the two of you anymore. The tip of his cock presses against your entrance, the initial pressure already making you crave more. You need all of him, so you wrap your legs around his waist and dig your heels into his back to tell him to push in further. Your whole body tingles with pleasure, the type enough to make your toes curl, and your chest heaves as you adjust to his size.

His forehead drops against your shoulder, grasping one of your hands in his own to squeeze. He takes you slowly, his throbbing length stretching you to your limits and rubbing your walls perfectly. You were made for him, you’re certain. He fits so well, so completely, there’s no other explanation for it.

He curses under his breath, eyes threatening to flutter shut from the pleasure. Sweat clings to you tighter than Chenle does, but you relish in the way you react to him. His eyebrows pinch as he looks at you for any sign of discomfort.

His name slips past your lips. In that moment, you truly become his, and he becomes yours. Bodies meld together, each one of his thrusts sliding so pleasantly inside you. There’s no sound from either of you besides the brief exchange of names, moans from both of you, and the slick of your wetness.

He kisses you, thrusting at a steady, mind-crumbling pace. His chest brushes against yours, breathing uneven as he clenches the bedsheets next to your head. You quickly realize you could do this forever. The feeling of him so deep inside you would never subside, and you find yourself never wanting to separate from him.

Starlight gleams off his skin, the blue shine accenting the sheen of sweat clinging to him. His muscles contract as he holds himself over you, and his hair hangs over his eyes. All you can do in your current state is push it back, basking in the softness of it.

Picking up his pace, he slides one of his hands down your body, his thumb connecting with your clit. You’re a moaning mess, clinging to him as the familiar sensation returns to the pit of your stomach.

His trembling breath fans across your ear as he leans close. You’re unsure of how to handle all of the pleasure, your body spasming. He presses a kiss on that sensitive spot.

“I love you,” he whispers.

And that’s all it takes to have you shatter around him, your back arching as you grip onto his shoulders for dear life. He moans loudly, hips stuttering as your walls clench. When he spills inside you, it’s as if the last piece of you two finally comes together.

In bliss, you tell him you love him, too, over and over.

He kisses you passionately once more before gently pulling out of you, reassuring you that he’ll be right back so you let go. Grabbing a towel from your bathroom, he cleans you up, gaze drinking up every part of you. Once he’s finished, he crawls next to you in bed, pulling you to his chest.

You’re still certain you’ll wake up, and all of this will have been a dream, but until then, you’re going to enjoy it. Burying yourself in the warmth of his chest, you hum in content when he pulls the blankets over the two of you.

Finally, he’s here.

He’s no longer a memory trapped within the piano keys in your foyer.

He’s your Chenle, never to leave your side again.

#nct dream #chenle #nct imagines #nct #nct dream smut #nct scenarios #nct smut #chenle smut #chenle fluff #chenle angst

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ghouljams · 11 months

Note

Omg I LOVE your konig!cowboy story, it's entertaining just how dumb bee is around this whole farm life, but what if she wasn't really that stupid? Like imagine konigs computer completely shuts down, and he's not the most tech literate but bee sees the problem and goes full city slicker tech bro mode and fixes it in no time, showing she is in fact competent, just not about her current life

Congratulations on unlocking Bee's expertise.

This is almost exactly what I had in mind when I was trying to figure out how she could just up and move and do wfh and generally have no clue how to own a farm. I think she's 100% a tech jockey of some kind, maybe a little bit of a hacker type. She's very smart but only about her areas of expertise.

König's laptop is open on the kitchen table when you drop by, the blue screen staring at you like an angel of death. You wince a little. You hope he wasn't working on anything important. You set your fabulously not failed cookies on his kitchen counter and pull out the chair in front of the computer.

"König, you mind if I poke around on your computer a little?" You call, straining to hear any movement before he pokes his head into the kitchen. He narrows his eyes at the computer for a moment, and damn you've never seen someone think so long about having their tech salvaged. "I won't check your browser history or anything if that's what you're worried about, just wanna get it running again."

König makes a noise of surprise and embarrassment. "I am not worried about that!" He sputters, which tells you he actually was worried about that. You shrug and flex your fingers a little. "Don't poke around too much." He relents, you grin, men are all the same.

"I'll stick to drivers and operating files only," he gives you a blank look, you press a few command keys to pull up your favorite little black box, "I'll just get it back to working."

You spend a few minutes manually filling in code and resetting the garbled muck that's filling your neighbor's computer. It's not too bad but he's got a nasty worm that seems to have been installed through a lousey torrent. You wipe the last few installs as best you can, calling König over to translate every so often. It's bad enough reworking an operating system in English, you're losing your mind trying to parse German files.

Eventually he finds a chair to sit next to you and watch. You pull your feet up onto the chair, your posture atrocious as you concentrate.

"I don't even know what half of this is," You grumble, staring at what looks like a matrix of some sort, a really sparse one.

"Which one is giving you trouble," König follows where you point on the screen, eyes narrowed against the brightness as he reads through named files, "Ah, this is security."

"Your place has security? We're in the middle of nowhere," You shoot him a look, he hums half agreeing, "I'll leave it."

"Braves Mädchen," he breathes, "you're very good at this."

"I hope so, can't exactly fall back on farming." You grumble, fingers working to finish your repairs to Königs frankly ancient laptop. This thing is going to be running marathons when you're done with it. Probably best to avoid any major changes to the OS though, König doesn't seem like he'd be willing to learn new shortcuts.

This is good though, you feel like you're paying him back for helping you out so much. Especially when you hit the button for the final restart and everything springs to life with a pleasant chime. You smile at your work, typing in König's shitty password to check that everything is working alright. You check the time, updating the clock to the correct time zone.

You stop, dread making your stomach roll. Is it really that late? "We were supposed to see a movie," You frown. König shoos your hands off the keyboard and shuts his laptop, it rings like a death bell on your ever present forgetfulness. "I'm sorry, I didn't even realize, and now we've missed it," König raises a hand to stop your apology.

"I don't mind," He's so sweet, his eyes smiling at you over his bandana, "I enjoyed watching you work, it was very... informative." You offer a hesitant smile, that's certainly one way to put it.

König watches you straighten up from your position over the computer, knees dropping from where you'd pulled them up by your chest as you arch your back to stretch out the kinks. The satisfied little noise you make at the quiet pop is going to bounce around his mind for a while yet. The same way your focused stare and the silent movement of your lips as you read will stick with him.

He would have asked you for help sooner, but there was too much about you on that laptop to be safe. Still, your discretion was a credit to your professionalism. Although your flagrant dismissal of what you must have thought were his porn habits was... telling. How many men have jumped to get their computer out of your hands?

"I better go home, gotta feed the critters and all." You stand, grabbing your bag from the floor, "Thanks for letting me fix your computer."

"Of course," König stands as well, walking with you to the door, "Danke Schön, hummelchen." He tells you quietly, holding the door above your head.

"Bitte schön, König," your pronunciation is hesitant, but still leaves him wide eyed staring down at you, "I Googled a few basics." You explain, as if that could be the reason for his silence.

"I see," König tries to keep his voice from sounding too tight, thinks he even succeeds at it, "Then, Gute Nacht."

"Gute Nacht!" You reply enthusiastically, giving a wave as you turn to leave. His fingers tighten on the door, grabbing something other than your throat. If you were going to speak his mother tongue so prettily, you should have at least warned him. Maybe then he wouldn't have to close the door half hard. You are going to be the death of him.

#cowboy!König #Bee very excited to have a fun movie night with her good friend and neighbor #könig coaching himself in the mirror that this isnt a date and he will not ruin this for Bee #oc: Bee #könig x you #könig modern warfare #könig x oc #colonel könig #könig cod #cod x reader #x reader #cod mw2

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dreamcatchers-husband · 10 months

Text

Don't Give In

Male Reader X Dreamcatcher Handong

Length: 2200 words

Tags: Quckie, Creampie

A/n- BFH because of this photo. She really wanted to kill us.

Don’t give in, don’t give in, don’t give in”. These three words repeatedly went through your mind every day at work. Weird, right? Why would you keep telling yourself that? Well, the glare a certain pink-haired Chinese woman was giving you caused it.

When you picked up the girls early, they all seemed quite mellow. Sure, being 5 am probably does that but you were a bit surprised. The drive was quite boring to the remote location but once you hopped out, it all began.

Reaching the side door, each of the girls began to hop out and say their thanks. With the final lady exiting, a sudden grab on your crotch made you jolt in place. Your face was full of panic as you looked around. Facing the young woman, that famous smirk filled her face as she got closer.

“Who needs coffee when my touch can be your pick me up?”

With that said, Handong continued into the shooting site, leaving you amazed by her actions.

“Don’t give in, don’t give in, don’t give in.”

First time of the day.

7 hours later.

Lunch was a time everyone enjoyed. Well maybe not the ladies who prepared the food but it was a time to relax. At least that’s what you assumed it would be.

The metal chair your butt seated on was not the comfiest but it got the job done. On your plastic plate, a mix of veggies and various meat could be found. Unlike most idols, the Dreamcatcher girls ate what they wanted in moderation instead of going on insane diets.

Despite being their manager, the relationship you had with the girls was beyond just business. They were your friends. As you all sat around the white plastic table. Everyone was listening to Jiu’s corny jokes when a sudden pressure on your crotch caught your attention.

Not wanting to make it oblivious, your face continued to look at Jiu, while giving the girl further to the right a serious look. Despite this, Handong continued to eat while her foot continued to touch your dick.

“Haneul. Are you ok? You seem a bit red?”

“O-Oh yeah. I’m fine, Sua. Sorry, I think it’s just a little hot.”

“Yeah, it is a little hot. I’m so glad they got us those cold drinks.”

As each girl took a sip of their Soda, Handong raised the straw to her mouth and gave you a smirk. The young woman’s tongue began to roam around the plastic straw. Moving it up and down, Handong pushed the straw in her mouth and began to move it back and forth, Maintaining eye contact that whole time.

“Don’t give in, don’t give in, don’t give in.”

9 hours later.

Just as when you had woken up, the sun was nowhere in sight. The life of an idol is tough, but being their manager could be just as stressful at times. As some girls continued to get their photos taken for the album, the sound of clapping caught your attention.

Looking to the left, the sight of the approaching pink-haired girl made you nervous. As Handong finally stood in front of you, a small giggle left her mouth.

“Drooling much? Well as much as I love you staring at me, could you help me take a few pictures for my Instagram?”

Getting back to your senses, you simply nodded your head and took the phone that she handed you.

Getting ready to take a few shots, Handong shook her head no.

“Let’s not bother the people shooting here. Let’s go by the van. I'm sure no one we can bother will be there.”

The sirens in your head began to go off but you didn’t have much of a choice as the Chinese woman began to walk off. Following behind, your eyes noticed the leather skirt that didn’t cover much of her legs. Handong was always a muscular girl and her legs were no exception. Those powerful legs had caused you plenty of problems in the past.

Your attention must have been cut short as you suddenly bumped into Handong. You both had finally reached the van. With no words, Handong quickly fixed her hair and began to pose. Remembering what you were there for, you proceeded to open the camera app and point the lens at the Chinese woman.

At first, Handong began to just show off her jacket with each pose, leaning down a bit while Maintaining eye contact with the camera. As Handong stood straight, your eyes immediately noticed the sports bra that was underneath the jacket. The gray and white matched perfectly with the leather jacket and skirt. Moving her hand to the bottom of her jacket, Handong began to show off more of the outfit that was covered.

Finally raising her arm, Handong’s exposed midriff blessed your eyes. Handong’s abs were something that could make any man or woman drool like a dog. You were surprised your hand still remembered to take a few pictures but soon your mind began to repeat those 3 words.

“Don’t give in, don’t give in, don’t give in.”

Despite repeating those words, the stare that came from Handong enchanted you. As the young woman lowered her arm, Handong began to walk backwards toward the white van that was there.

With her finger, Handong signaled you to follow her. Your legs had a kind of their own as you followed after her. When Handong’s back hit the van, her arm reached for the handle and pulled it to open the door.

Soon the pink-haired girl was gone into the white van and you were left with a choice. Would you go in the van and act in your urges or return there where you could be needed?

Sticking her head out, Handong gave you a small scowl and spoke.

“Get in here. I promise I have a reason that I need you here. Please come and assist me, dear manager.”

“Ok ok. I’m coming.”

Taking a few steps forward, your left leg stepped into the white van as the rest of your body entered after. Soon the door closed automatically, leaving you face-to-face with the Chinese idol.

“O-Ok Handong, what do you need my help with?”

“Oh it’s quite simple, I just need your cock.”

Your heart rate shot towards the roof as you heard those words. Before you could even react, handong had already brought her hands toward your pants. Taking hold of her soft hands, you began to repeat those same words.

“Don’t give in Don’t give-“

“Oh, it’s too late for you to say that.”

Handong in one swoop undid your belt and fished out your cock. The soft skin from her hands made your whole body shake as she began to raise her hand up and down. All self-control you had left was gone as soon as the girl's tongue reached your tip.

Spinning her tongue around the head of your cock, your eyes immediately closed and a loud sigh left your mouth. Somehow in that time, Handong managed to lower your pants to the floor and reach back up to your balls. As the girl’s tongue began to move up and down your shaft, her hand began to grab your balls and play with them. Each lick from her tongue was accompanied by a soft squeeze of your balls.

As you looked down, your eyes could only see the color pink as Handong continued her oral assault. Soon your cock head was enveloped but the warm and wet comfort of Handong’s mouth. At that time, the young woman began to suck on your tip, causing you to moan loudly.

Just as your cock head, the rest of your shaft got enveloped by the warm cavern that was her mouth. Handong was never one to like things slow so I’m a quick swoop, your entire length went down her throat. By reflex, your hand went on top of Handong’s head and kept her pushed down. 5 then 10 seconds passed until you felt a tap on your thigh.

Letting go, Handong’s head shot up as she gasped for air. Despite just having been full of your cock, Handong began once more. The suck's on your cock combined with the pressure from her throat began to make you reach your peak. As you got ready to push the Chinese girl down on your cock once more, her oral attack stopped.

A small cry left your mouth as a giggle left her mouth. Raising her legs, Handong quickly took a seat on your lap and looked into your eyes.

“The only place your load is going is in my pussy. Fill me and then fill me some more.”

With a quick slap to your face, your mind was overloaded with pleasure as Handong’s pussy enveloped your shaft. Raising her hips, Handong began to aggressively shove your length into her hole.

“Fuck me or I’ll go find someone who can take your place.”

With those words of what could be encouragement, your hands proceeded to take hold of her hips and raise her up. Lowering the girl on your length, you began to do the same action over and over.

Despite being in a tight spot, Handong was able to get up and shove her pussy down on your length. Small squeaks left the car as Handong bounced on your cock. Guess you were also testing the suspension.

With each bounce, your hips matched the Chinese girl's action and shot your cock up into her warm cavern. Your eyes at that time took notice of Handong’s covered breasts. Handong seemed to have noticed this also as she pushed the sports bra up and grabbed your head. Just like your shaft, your face was suffocated by the comfort of Handong’s body. As you opened your mouth, your tongue immediately found the woman’s nipple and began to play with it. The moans that left Handong’s mouth let you know she loved this action just as much as you did.

Finally, closer, your mouth wrapped around her nipple and began to give it a few sucks while flicking it with your tongue at times. Being a manager helped your sex life. How? Multitasking.”

With your mouth busy attacking Handong’s right breast. Your left hand let go of Handong’s waist and moved towards the girl's folds. Searching around, your hand was lucky to find a little nub, and began to play with it. With each bounce suck and rub, Handong began to make more and more noise. The various sources of stimulation began to overwhelm her body as she wrapped her arms around you.

“D-Don’t fucking stop. I’m gonna cum soon.”

Hearing those words lets you know to do your best in that moment. Speeding up your hand brought more moans in the van. Handong wasn’t going to just sit there. Speeding up her bounces caused you to do the same with the rest of your actions. The girl’s walls began to tighten and strangle your cock. You knew you were close so you had to give it everything you got now. With all the power left in your hips, you proceeded to pound into the girl’s cavern and attack her clit the best you could. When a loud yell hit your ears, a matching constriction was felt around your cock.

Handong’s whole body tensed up at that moment as her pussy juices leaked down onto your legs. Handong’s orgasm helped you as you finally reached your peak. As your lower body shook, your shaft began to spurt your semen deep into the young woman’s womb. Each shot of cum that filled the girl caused her to jolt in place once more.

After a few seconds, the sound of panting was all that could be heard in the van. As both of your eyes meet, your lips quickly attached in a passionate kiss. Both of your tongues fought each other for dominance. Despite this, you both gave each other control somehow. Pulling back from the kiss, you both began to laugh and calm down.

Hopping off you, Handong quickly lowered her sports bra and fixed her hair. Following her example, you proceeded to fix your clothes and get ready to leave the van.

As the automatic door opened, you were met by a serious group of girls who didn’t seem happy. With a shake of their heads, you both hopped out as they took a quick whiff inside. Dami was the first to react as she backed away from the van.

“God, it smells like sex in there. Ladies. Leave the windows open to air it out. You two, just wait for the car to stop smelling.”

As the rest of the dreamcatcher girls left the area, your eyes immediately noticed Handong walking backwards towards a building. Repeating the same action, Handong began to signal you to follow her.

“Don’t give in, don’t give in, don’t give in.”

Handong heard you as she raised her skirt and bit and showed you the cum falling down her leg. With a smirk, the Chinese idol entered a building leaving you thinking.

Damn it. You're giving in again, aren’t you?

#smut #kpopsmut #dreamcatchersmut #female idol smut

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