#As I said before - people will talk and talk and talk and say nothing at all | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mclacedes · 3 days ago

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A Fading Echo (LH44)

CHAPTER II: Going Home

a/n: this is NOT PROOF READ

warnings: breakup, abu dhabi ‘21, rude!lewis, depression, gaslighting, fighting

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“For a moment, he wanted to break down and beg Willem not to leave. Don't go, he wanted to tell him. Stay here with me. I'm scared to be alone.”

- Hanya Yanagihara, "A Little Life"

He remembers your final battle—the fight that ended it all; the decision-maker, the deal-breaker.

Four years. You had been together for four beautiful, though turbulent, years. The kind of love story that felt unshakable, weathering the storms life hurled your way. You had your own career, pursuing the dreams you’d cherished since you were a kid. You were finally at a stage in life where everything felt like it fit perfectly. And with him by your side, it seemed like nothing could go wrong.

By 2020—your third year together—things had grown serious, the kind of serious that made people whisper about rings and forever.

You still remember the phone call in March 2020, just as the world began to crumble under the weight of a pandemic, when asked you the question, his voice calm but carrying a thread of anticipation.

“Quarantine with me. In the UK,” he said, his words slicing through the static.

You froze, caught completely off guard. The emotions hit you all at once—joy, anxiety, disbelief—so quickly that you couldn’t string a coherent thought together.

“Y/n?” His voice softened. “You still there?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here,” you stammered, your mind still reeling. “I’m just… a little unprepared for that question.”

The pandemic was spiraling into chaos. Quarantine was the new normal, with no end in sight. Weeks? Months? Years? No one knew. There was no vaccine, no cure, just endless uncertainty. The thought of being confined in one place for so long felt suffocating.

“It's just… That's not my house, I don't know if I’ll…” he had this unbearable habit of cutting you off in the middle of a sentence.

“I know, but we can make it home,” you could tell he was beaming with pride for coming up with that sentence. “Home is wherever you are.”

It sounded like a promise. Like he was for real.

“Besides, there won’t be any races for a while. Things will be peaceful, quiet… just us. I think we can make it fun at home, huh?”

His words wrapped around you like a warm blanket. Despite the fear and uncertainty, the thought of being with him—just him—was comforting.

You took a deep breath, letting the idea sink in. “Okay, it sounds nice,” and you smiled.

And it was nice. More than nice, really. Those weeks together were filled with laughter and quiet moments, a bubble of peace in a chaotic world.

Eventually, though, he had to leave again. Racing had resumed, and his life called him back to the track. You went to as many races as you could, though he always worried.

“I don’t want you catching that thing,” he’d say, his protective nature shining through.

You’d laugh it off, but you knew he meant it. Those months felt like a rhythm you could get used to—brief separations and joyous reunions. You thought you had found your balance.

But cracks have a way of forming when you least expect them—because people talk. They speculate. They conspire. Perched on the edges of lives they don’t know, they wait for their chance to unravel something beautiful.

Your relationship became a sweet treat for an internet starved for the meanest way to make somebody seem interesting, a spectacle to devour and distort—somebody had to feed those vultures.

By mid-2021, Twitter was buzzing with talk of rings, cradles and bibs. People dissected your (and his) every move, searching for signs of the next big step. But while the world fantasized about your future, Lewis was consumed by a fight of his own—that year's championship; the toughest battle since 2016, since Nico.

You knew his career had always been his first love, the thing that made his heart pump and his eyes shine long before they settled on you. Just as you had your own dreams to chase, he had his. And in 2021, those dreams demanded everything from him—his time, his attention, his softness, and, it seemed, his love for you.

By late 2021, the cracks in your once unshakable foundation had grown too wide to ignore. The championship consumed him, pulling him further away, and you—desperately holding on—began to feel more like an obligation than a partner.

It started with the little things: unanswered texts, “I was catching up on data”, missed calls, conversations cut short with a distracted “Sorry, I’ll call you later”. Later never came thought. Even when you were physically together, his mind was elsewhere, a thousand miles ahead, already focused on the next race, the next strategy meeting, the next battle on track.

You tried to understand. You reminded yourself of his passion, his drive, the fire that had drawn you to him in the first place. But understanding didn’t make the loneliness any easier to bear.

Then it crumbled. December, after Abu Dhabi. It was like everything started to shut down, like multiple organ failure—there’s no surgery to save your relationship. The worst part is that you knew it—you both. The even worse part was that you let it go so easily.

The fallout from that race was cataclysmic, not just for him but for you too. He came home shattered—a man stripped of everything he’d worked for, everything he believed in. You wanted to be there for him, to help him rebuild, but he wouldn’t let you in. He was silent, withdrawn, a ghost of the man who had once made you feel like the center of his universe.

“I’m here if you wanna talk,” you had reassured him once, your voice soft, during a quietly bitter dinner.

“I don’t want to,” he replied sharply, his tone cold and clipped, not even looking up from his plate.

“I know, but what I mean is that—”

“I know what you mean, Y/N,” he interrupted, his voice laced with impatience. “Please, can we just eat?”

The finality in his words stung, sharp and unforgiving. Recessive and heartbroken, you nodded, lowering your gaze to the plate of food you had poured your heart into making—a meal that now tasted like ash in your mouth.

The days dragged on after that, each one heavier than the last. Conversations became sparse, filled only with superficial pleasantries or curt exchanges. The man who used to pull you into his arms and make you laugh until your sides ached now felt like a stranger in your own home.

And then came the day he told you he was leaving.

“I’m going over to my parents,” he said one evening, his voice flat, drained of its usual warmth, as the chill of December crept into the Monaco air.

You blinked, still sitting on the couch surrounded by a scattering of holiday cards you’d been addressing. The weight of his words took a moment to settle.

“Didn’t know they’d spend Christmas with us,” you said, absent-minded, not understanding what he meant yet.

“No,” he clarified, his tone cool and detached. “I’m going home.”

The room seemed to close in around you, the once-welcoming space now feeling alien and far too empty. “Okay… I’ll pack my bags,” you said quickly, standing up abruptly, as if to act like nothing had changed. “How long are we staying there? I hope you’re aware that I’m going home for New Year’s—”

“No, Y/N.” He cut you off, his words sharp enough to slice through the air. “I need to go by myself. Just me and my parents for once.”

Your breath hitched as you processed his words. “Oh. Umm… Okay,” you managed to say, your throat tightening, tears threatening to spill. “It’s just that we… we had planned this. We were supposed to—”

“Yeah, yeah,” he interrupted, waving a dismissive hand. “Plans changed.”

The dismissal stung, sharp and biting, like a slap to the face. And then, the silence.

“What happened, Lewis?” you asked, the crack in your voice betraying the storm brewing inside.

“How is that even a question?” he snapped, his brow furrowed, disbelief coloring his words. He ran a hand through his hair, frustration leaking from his every pore. “It’s right in front of you, Y/N. It’s been right in front of you.”

“No, it hasn’t!” you shot back, the words tumbling out in a mix of anger and desperation. “You’ve been shutting me out for months. I don’t know what’s going on with you anymore because you won’t talk to me! You won’t let me in!”

“Oh, so now this is my fault?” he retorted, his voice rising, defensive. “I’m the bad guy for not wanting to drown you in my shit? For needing space to deal with the fact that my career—my legacy—was torn apart in front of the entire world?” He turned his back on you, heading toward the hallway that led to your shared bedroom.

“That’s not what I’m saying, Lewis!” you shouted, following him, the frustration boiling over. “The thing is, you made me believe we were a team. We’d face things together. And now, when it matters most, you’re shutting me out!”

But he didn’t listen. His steps were heavy, his mind already elsewhere.

“You said you’re going home!” You screamed, and this time, he finally stopped, his body tensing.

He turned around, his face a storm of frustration. “I am going home, Y/N. What’s so hard to understand about that?”

“What happened to ‘home is wherever you are, Y/N’?” you repeated, your voice shaking with raw emotion. “This isn’t your home anymore? After everything we’ve built together, I’m not your home?”

He scoffed, a cruel sound that sliced through the air. “You’re twisting my words.”

“No, I’m not!” you retorted, your heart pounding, desperate to be heard. “I’m just trying to understand why you think running back to the UK and shutting me out is the answer to anything. You barely even look at me anymore, Lewis. Do you even want me here?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” His eyes narrowed, his tone sharp, though still defensive.

“It means you’ve kept me on the edge for so long. You’re here, but not really. And when you’re gone, we don’t talk. You disappear. I’m not even a part of your life anymore!” You could feel the tears in your throat, but you fought them back. “You dismiss everything we talked about—marriage, kids, a future. Like none of it matters to you anymore. Like you don’t want me in your life at all. It feels like you hate me!”

“Argh, here you go again,” he snarled, his fists clenching. “Shit, you always do this,” he snapped, his voice rising. “Always making it about you,” his index pointed straight at you.

“Because it is about us!” you cried, your voice breaking. “It’s about me too, isn’t it? I’m not some option you can just turn off when you don’t feel like dealing with me!”

“Well, I’m the one dealing with shit right now,” he shot back, his eyes flashing with anger. “And instead of supporting me, you’re interrogating me, saying I don’t care about you. You think that talking about babies and rings is going to fix anything? You don’t get it, Y/N! You’re so focused on your timeline, on what you think I should be giving you, that you can’t see that I’m falling apart!”

You stood frozen, the sting of his words slicing through you like ice. “That’s not fair, Lewis. I’ve been supporting you—”

“Have you?” he interrupted coldly, his voice full of bitterness. “Because all I hear is how you feel. I’m the one who’s lost everything, but somehow, I’m the one to blame. You’ve made this all about you.”

“You keep saying you’ve lost everything, but no,” you said, your voice steady despite the tears now spilling. “You haven’t lost everything. Your legacy is still there. You’re a legend. It’s always going to be remembered. But you’re so lost in your own darkness that you can’t see what’s still in front of you. You’ve lost a championship, so what?”

Lewis’s face twisted with rage, his eyes seething as he glared at you. “So what?” he echoed bitterly. “You think it’s just about a damn race? It’s not just the championship, Y/N. It’s everything. They took it from me. They stole it from me, right in front of everyone’s eyes. And all you can do is lecture me like I’m being unreasonable? You’re standing here talking about legacy and what I’ve achieved, but none of that matters if it’s all been ripped away. What’s left of me when they’ve taken everything?” he said, forcing himself to maintain his composure.

“Yeah, and what's left of us, Lewis?”

The words hit him harder than you expected, and for a moment, he was silent, his jaw tightening. His chest heaved, and his eyes locked onto yours, a mix of pain and frustration swirling in them.

“What do you mean, what's left of us?” he asked, his voice shaking slightly, as though he was trying to understand.

“We,” you repeated, your voice quieter now, barely above a whisper. “What’s left of us when you shut me out like this? When you push me away every time I try to help you, every time I try to understand? What happens when you keep giving them, the media, more than you give to this relationship?”

“I don’t think I have the mindspace to dwell on that anymore, Y/N,” He stood there, seemingly distant, his eyes avoiding yours now. The air between you both felt colder, thicker, like an impenetrable wall had risen between the two of you.

“See? That's what I’m talking about! You’ll just run away, packing it up and not talking to me. You can’t just not think about it, Lewis,” you said, frustration creeping into your voice. “You can’t just shut everything out because it’s easier than facing it. This relationship—us—it’s not a convenience, it’s not something you can just leave behind when it doesn’t fit your narrative anymore.”

His jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing as if he were searching for a retort but couldn’t find the words. Finally, he said, “I can’t give you what you need right now, Y/N. I can’t be the person you want me to be.”

“I don’t need you to be perfect, Lewis,” you said, stepping closer to him. “I just need you to let me in. I need you to trust me enough to share the weight.”

He shook his head, looking away as if he couldn’t bear to meet your eyes. “It’s not that simple.”

“Yes, it is!” you insisted, the tears you’d been holding back spilling over now. “You’re choosing to leave me out. You’re actively choosing to push me away. That’s not about the championship or your career—that’s about us. And it’s killing me, Lewis.”

For a moment, he just stood there, his eyes locked on yours, his face a blank mask. And then, in a voice so quiet, so small, it shattered your heart, he said, “Maybe we were never as strong as we thought we were.”

The words slammed into you like a punch to the gut, leaving you gasping for air. “You don’t mean that,” you pleaded, your voice trembling, cracking under the weight of the truth you didn’t want to face.

Time seemed to slow as he reached for his house keys, his car keys, and the packed handbag—each movement like a dagger slowly twisting deeper into your chest.

“Lewis, no,” you begged, your voice raw, desperation flooding your veins. “No, please, don’t do this. Please stay…”

But he didn’t look back. He didn’t even flinch at your broken cries.

“I’ll see you around,” he muttered, his words empty, hollow. His tone was void of everything that once mattered. Without another word, he walked out, the door slamming shut behind him with a deafening finality.

The silence that followed was suffocating, the sound of the door’s closure ringing in your ears like a death knell. You were left standing there, frozen, in a sea of devastation. Alone. Lost. And questioning everything that had once been so sure.

Nothing was ever the same after that.

For him, that wasn’t just the loss of a championship—it was the loss of himself. Of everything he thought he could hold onto.

You watched helplessly as he sought solace in everything else—the noise, the distractions, the empty comforts—anything but you. Everyone else seemed to understand the depths of his pain, the weight of his loss, except for you. And that fact stung worse than anything he’d said.

That night, you let yourself slip into a crying spiral, tears falling uncontrollably, each one a reflection of the pain that had consumed you. You didn't know how long it lasted, but it felt like hours, your chest tight and raw. Eventually, exhaustion dragged you into a restless sleep, the emptiness settling around you.

A few weeks later, after trying to collect yourself and make sense of the pain, you sent one text.

you: i’ve taken my thing out of your house in Monaco. i’m breaking up with you.

You stared at the message for a long moment, your thumb hovering over the send button, as though giving yourself a moment to breathe before the finality of it.

With a shaky exhale, you pressed send. The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of everything that had built up, everything that had been left unsaid. The knot in your chest didn’t loosen. It didn’t change anything. But it was done. And as you stared at the screen, the absence of a reply was just another confirmation that it was over.

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ilovedinodino · 1 day ago

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player 066

synopsis: Haechan came to earn money from some strange games and didn't expect to see you, his ex.

paring: player!haechan x player!reader

warnings: blood, fights, literally the same thing that happens in the squid game happens here

wc: 5259

Who haven’t seen season 2 don’t read it!

Haechan didn’t expect this. He didn’t expect some childish games to involve death for losing. After the first game, he was horrified and wanted nothing more than to go home, back to his friends and family. He was certain that during the vote, everyone would choose X—but how wrong he was.

Haechan glanced up at the scoreboard, silently praying that the remaining players would come to their senses and choose to leave this wretched place. He wanted to scream.

“Player 012.”

Haechan turned toward the crowd, and his breath caught.

“Y/N?..”

The boy froze in shock, unable to believe his eyes as he watched you stand there, hesitating over which button to press.

Haechan’s mind raced. Why is this so hard for you to decide? Weren’t you terrified after everything you’ve seen? And why the fuck are you here?

*Ding.*

The blue light flashed, and Team O erupted in cheers, celebrating loudly.

You had chosen O.

—

After the vote, they started handing out food. By the way, four people voted after you, and two of them chose O, which meant you weren’t allowed to leave and should to play next game. Haechan was upset and still couldn’t understand what you were doing here. He wanted to find you, but he lost you in the sea of green uniforms.

Grabbing his food, Haechan began walking toward one of the bunks. Then he stopped. You were sitting on one of the beds, quietly eating.

God, you were beautiful. You had always been beautiful, but Haechan hadn’t seen you in five months, and in that moment, he thought you’d become even more radiant.

Without hesitation, he quickly walked over to you.

You were eating peacefully when you suddenly felt someone standing in front of you. Slowly, you lifted your head, ready to say something to the stranger with number 066, but then you saw him.

Lee Haechan.

The same guy you had broken up with and still couldn’t come to terms with. For half a year, you had tried to forget him, but nothing worked. You thought of him every night in your dreams, before falling asleep, and even in the mornings. Constantly. And now, here he was, standing in this strange place, wearing a strange green uniform, right in front of you.

“Y/N,” he said softly.

“Haechan,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

“What are you doing here?”

You flinched at the question. What were you doing here? You didn’t even know yourself. You had wanted to escape somewhere far away from everything, and this seemed like a perfect solution—earning some money along the way didn’t hurt either.

“I came to win money, just like you. Is that not allowed?” you said, your tone cold.

Haechan’s expression softened, his heart sinking at your distant words. Still, he sat down next to you while you shot him a wary look.

“Do you need money?” he asked gently.

"I need to pay for my studies."

"You could have asked me."

"You?" You laugh. "You’re here because you don’t have money yourself, and you’re telling me I should’ve asked you? Besides, don’t you think it’s strange to ask for money from your ex—someone you haven’t talked to or seen in six months?"

Haechan falls silent. Technically, you were right. But he wasn’t completely broke—he could’ve helped you if you had asked. He was here to earn more money for his dreams, so he wouldn’t have to take out extra loans. And you were also right about the part with the ex, but Haechan didn’t want to dwell on that. It hurt too much.

"Why did you vote to keep playing? Did that old man convince you?"

You smirk and poke at the rice with your spoon.

"I didn’t want to go home, and the prize money was too small."

"20 million won is too small?!" Haechan stares at you in disbelief. "Aren’t you afraid you might die?"

"I’m not," you reply, avoiding his gaze, while he keeps looking at you intently.

"From now on, I’ll stay with you."

"What?" You lift your head in surprise, finally looking him in the eye.

"From this moment on..." Haechan’s eyes lock with yours. "...I’ll be with you," he says, a soft smile spreading across his face.

"I ran away from everyone to end up with you following me around? No, Haechan, I don’t need this." You start to get up, setting your meal aside, but Haechan grabs your wrist and stands with you.

"Let go."

"I’m not letting you go in a place like this. It’s too dangerous."

"I’m not a child, Haechan."

"I don’t care. You can do whatever you want, but I won’t even consider leaving you alone here."

You stare at each other for a long moment, his grip firm yet not forceful. Deep down, you know he won’t back down—not even with a gun to his head. Haechan had always been this stubborn.

Of course, you were just as stubborn, but the truth was, you were glad he was here with you, even if you refused to admit it.

—

After lights out, you were escorted to the next game. You tried to avoid Haechan, but it didn’t work very well. At that moment, as you climbed the stairs, he was right behind you. You hadn’t even noticed when he managed to fall into step behind you.

"Don’t try to run away from me, sweetheart," he leaned in and whispered in your ear.

You ignored him and kept walking.

"I heard that in the next game, you’ll have to carve shapes out of a cookie, so pick the triangle," he added casually.

You stopped and turned to face him.

"Where did you hear that?"

Haechan simply shrugged and gently turned you back around, nudging you to keep moving forward.

It didn’t feel like a game about cookies.

Somehow, you managed to slip away from Haechan and stood at the far end of the room, nearly alone. Like everyone else, you were surveying the space when a female voice suddenly rang out:

"Divide into teams of five."

Damn. This definitely wasn’t about cookies. You looked around, seeing how everyone began forming teams, scrambling to find people.

You spotted a group of men and cautiously approached them.

"Excuse me. I’m on my own—can I join your team?"

The four men gave you a once-over before exchanging looks.

"Listen, we need strong and smart people on our team..."

You didn’t need to hear more to understand their implication. They didn’t want women—they wanted men. Letting out a frustrated sigh, you turned and started searching again.

—

Haechan was losing his mind. He had searched the entire damn hall, and you were nowhere to be found. The thought of you being stuck with some random weaklings or sketchy players made his blood boil. You had to be with him—right now, no, right this second.

"Hey, want to team up with me?"

Haechan turned toward the voice and saw a guy around his age grinning at him.

"I noticed you’re walking around alone. I’m on my own too, so if you don’t mind, we could team up and look for more people together."

The guy’s wide smile seemed genuine, and Haechan figured it wasn’t the worst idea.

"Yeah, sure. But there’s going to be a girl with us. Is that okay with you?"

The guy waved his hand dismissively, his grin unwavering.

"Of course! That’s even better. I’m Hendery, by the way."

He extended his hand, and Haechan shook it firmly.

"Haechan."

"Nice to meet you! So, where’s the girl?"

Haechan’s jaw tightened as he scanned the room again, his frustration bubbling.

"That’s what I’m trying to figure out."

Hendery glanced at the timer and nodded.

"We still have time, so we’ll find her. What does she look like?"

Haechan opened his mouth to reply but suddenly froze. His eyes caught sight of you—standing just behind Hendery. But you weren’t alone. You were with some guy.

Without thinking, Haechan shot up and strode toward you, his sudden movements making Hendery follow in confusion.

"Y/N! Where the hell have you been?!"

You flinched as Haechan grabbed your arm unexpectedly, letting out an exasperated sigh when you realized it was him.

"God, could you be gentler?!"

"Gentler?!" Haechan’s voice dripped with frustration. "Where have you been? Why did you—" He cut himself off abruptly when his gaze locked onto the tall guy standing next to you.

The boy fidgeted under Haechan’s intense stare before mumbling awkwardly, "I’m Sungchan. Nice to meet you." He extended a hand hesitantly, and Haechan shook it reluctantly, his grip firmer than necessary.

"Oh! We only need one more person now, and we’re set!" Hendery exclaimed enthusiastically, his bright demeanor completely at odds with the tense atmosphere.

Haechan, however, wasn’t sharing in the excitement. His sharp eyes darted between you and Sungchan, while you glared back at him with irritation. Sungchan seemed ready to disappear under the pressure of Haechan’s silent judgment.

"I’m with you," a deep voice suddenly cut through the awkwardness.

All four of you turned to see an incredibly tall man with long hair stepping toward the group. His commanding presence left everyone speechless for a moment.

Hendery, however, didn’t miss a beat. "Perfect!" he cheered, practically beaming at the addition.

But Haechan’s attention was still fixed on you and Sungchan, his frustration simmering just beneath the surface. This wasn’t how he imagined things would go.

—

Once the announcement was made to assign one person to each of the five games, the team gathered, exchanging uncertain glances.

"I’ll take Jegi. That’s literally the only game I can play," you declared, breaking the silence. The guys turned to look at you, and the tall man with the long hair chuckled, tilting his head.

"Alright, but who’s the strongest here? We’ll need someone for Ddakji."

The group fell silent until Sungchan nervously raised his hand.

"I… I think I can handle it."

Haechan was about to say something when you cut him off, pointing directly at him.

"Haechan will play Gong-gi!"

"What?!" he exclaimed, wide-eyed.

"You’re practically a pro at it! Come on, don’t pretend you’re not." You nudged his shoulder, and he glanced around nervously.

"Really? We need someone skilled for that game," Hendery chimed in with his ever-optimistic grin.

Haechan sighed in defeat, muttering, "Fine, I’ll do it."

"I’ll take Flying Stone," the long-haired man said calmly, crossing his arms.

"Guess that leaves me with Spinning Top," Hendery shrugged, still grinning as if this was all a casual game night.

—

*Bang.*

The sound of a gunshot echoed through the room, followed by the horrifying thud of bodies hitting the floor.

You violently, your gaze glued to the bloodied corpses of the first two groups. They hadn’t made it. They hadn’t been fast enough.

Fear surged through you like ice. What if your team wasn’t fast enough? What if you couldn’t hit the shuttlecock five times in Jegi? What if—

"Y/N," Haechan’s soft voice broke through the storm in your mind.

His hands gently landed on your shoulders, steadying you.

"Hey," he whispered, carefully turning you away from the blood-soaked floor. "Don’t look at that. Look at me."

You hesitated but finally met his gaze. He smiled at you, warm and reassuring, his hands still resting on your shoulders as if to anchor you.

"Everything will be fine," he said, his voice soft but firm.

You stood there, frozen, staring at him. Slowly, his calm confidence seeped into you, easing the rigid tension in your body. For a moment, all you could focus on was the safety in his eyes.

—

“Damn, we’re last. That’s sad,” Hendery joked, his tone light despite the tension.

Your team stood still as the staff locked the metal restraints around your ankles, the heavy weight of the game’s stakes settling in. And you were here alone. Only with another team.

The game began.

Sungchan wasted no time. Grabbing the Ddakji square, he struck with precision, flipping the paper on his first try.

"YES!" you all shouted in unison, voices echoing in the room as you sprinted to the next game.

"One, two! One, two!"

The second game flew by in a blur. The tall man threw the stone with ease, landing it perfectly before swiftly striking it back to the start. Another victory. You jumped up and down, cheering wildly as the group moved cautiously to the next station.

The third game was Gong-gi. The group waited as the guard placed the table and handed out the small stones.

Haechan’s hands were trembling. No one seemed to notice, riding the adrenaline high of their earlier wins, but his heart was racing. He sat down, staring at the stones as he picked up the first one.

Focus. Just focus.

He dropped it.

“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath, gathering the stones again.

"Haechan, it’s fine! Don’t rush, we still have time," Hendery said from the side, his encouraging words meant to ease the tension.

But it didn’t help. Haechan’s hands shook even more, and the stones slipped again.

“Come on,” he whispered, frustration bubbling in his chest. He started over, but his nerves betrayed him, the stones scattering across the table once more.

Haechan glanced at the timer, panic surging as he realized how much time he’d wasted. He hadn’t even cleared the round.

“Crap, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I—”

"Donghyuck."

Your voice cut through his spiraling thoughts. He felt your hand gently rest on his shoulder, and he turned to look at you.

His face was drenched in sweat, his expression on the verge of breaking completely.

You didn’t say anything at first. Instead, you reached out and placed your palm softly against his cheek, stroking it with a calmness that seemed out of place in the chaos around you.

“You’ve got this,” you said softly, your voice steady and warm.

Haechan blinked at you, the fear in his eyes slowly giving way to something else—something calmer, more grounded. For the first time since the game started, his hands steadied.

“You’re okay, Hyuck. You’ll get through this. You’ve always done it for me, right?”

Something tugged at his chest when he heard the nickname only you used for him. Feeling the warmth of your hand on his cheek, Haechan steadied his breath.

He started again, his movements faster and more precise this time. One by one, he flipped the stones with skill, catching them all in the end. He slowly raised his fist to show the guard, who silently gave an “O” gesture.

“Success.”

Cheers erupted as you all celebrated, moving on to the next game.

"One, two! One, two!"

—

The last two games were grueling, but somehow, you all managed to finish with just five seconds left on the timer. It was a narrow escape, but an escape nonetheless.

Now, back in the main hall, the atmosphere was somber. No one spoke as the weight of what you’d just been through settled over the group.

Haechan had quietly moved away from the rest of you, sitting by himself in the corner. His head was low, his shoulders slumped.

“Haechan, why are you sitting there?” Hendery asked, his concern evident as he got up and walked over.

The rest of you followed, though you sat a bit farther from him than the others.

“I’m sorry…” Haechan mumbled into his hands, his face buried in his knees. “Because of me… you all almost died… I shouldn’t have—”

Hendery wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him into a reassuring hug.

“Hey, come on now,” Sungchan chimed in, patting Haechan’s back. “You didn’t do anything wrong. After everything we’ve seen today, who wouldn’t be shaken up? No one could focus in a place like this.”

“This place is insane,” Sungchan added, his voice filled with frustration.

You glanced at him, noticing a cross on his chest. A quick look at the others revealed the same symbol on Hendery and the tall man.

But when your eyes dropped to your own chest, you realized you were the only one with the O.

“It's because of me that we’re still here...”

Everyone’s attention shifts to you as your words hang in the air.

“I voted to continue the game…” You glance down at your hoodie.

“Come on, guys, stop!” The tall, handsome guy says, trying to comfort you. “We all make mistakes. The important thing is that we’re still alive. Besides, you weren’t the only one who voted to continue. So you’re not to blame.”

Haechan, who had raised his head when you began speaking, watches you silently while you focus on your sneakers.

“By the way, my name is Johnny. I’m from Chicago.”

“Chicago? I was there once when I was a kid. Im Hendery!” Hendery says, introducing himself.

“I’m Sungchan!”

“Lee Haechan…” Haechan mutters quietly, and everyone turns their attention to you, waiting for your response.

Noticing the silence, you lift your head and hesitate for a moment. “I... Y/N...”

“Nice to meet everyone!” Johnny says with a cheerful grin.

—

The second voting began. This time, you were certain that you were going to leave. After such a brutal game, you were sure that everyone else would want to leave too. There was no other option. Could they really be this stupid?

*Ding.*

The blue team jumps in joy.

24 – 28.

What the hell?

Soon, the score is tied, and the red team starts to win. You breathe a sigh of relief.

“Guys, why are you so boring? Let's all vote for the circle, okay?”

“God, this freak again,” you mutter to yourself after the guy with purple hair votes.

“Yeah, he's definitely strange,” Haechan agrees with you.

Fuck.

The last person went to vote, and the blue team won. They celebrated loudly while you, the red team, sat quietly, frustrated and angry.

"Let's see how they’ll celebrate when they all die," you turn at the harsh, blunt voice of Hendery.

"What?" He glance at you. "I just want to go home, and because of these stupid assholes, I’m back on the edge of death again.” Hendery kicks the floor and heads to the bed.

You all exchange glances, taken aback by this unexpected side of him.

“He can be like this?”

—

After the food was handed out, you left it with Songchan and went to the bathroom. You couldn’t stay there, you had no appetite. How could you think about food after everything you had seen? You walked to the sink, turned on cold water, and washed your face. The bathroom was empty, and you finally felt some peace. But suddenly the door opened, and Haechan stepped in.

"Why are you in the women’s bathroom?" you asked, surprised. Haechan smiled and replied:

"Women’s? This is the men’s bathroom, Y/N." You stepped out and saw that the door did indeed say "men’s bathroom." Haechan grinned and said:

"Didn’t you notice anything strange?" He walked to the sink and started washing his face.

"I didn’t pay attention to anything except the sink..." you ignored the fact that you were still in the men’s bathroom, since no one else was there except Haechan. What difference did it make?

"Are you okay?" Haechan asked as he wiped his face with his shirt. You slowly turned to him.

"I... yeah... ah, fuck, of course I’m not okay! How could I be okay when I’ve seen so many people get killed right in front of me? When my clothes are soaked in their blood? When I was almost killed myself? Who could be okay after all that? Only crazy people, Haechan!" Haechan stood in shock at your loud outburst. You both stood there, looking at each other, until you spoke again:

"Sorry... I just want to go home and live a normal life." You leaned over the sink again, splashing your face with water and wiping it. Haechan stayed silent, then approached you and gently lifted your face.

"Y/N, I understand, don’t apologize. I’m going crazy here too, from this place and these people. You saw how I almost got us killed? I lost my mind completely."

"Don’t say that, you didn’t do anything," you interrupted him.

"You didn’t do anything either, so don’t blame yourself for the first vote. Just calm down. I said I’d always be here for you, and I kept my word, didn’t I?"

You looked at his face for a long moment and quietly said:

"You haven’t been here for me the last five months."

Haechan smiled softly and stroked your face.

"It’s not about that now, Y/N. Let’s not talk about it."

"Why? Because you stopped loving me and left? Now you're pretending like nothing happened?"

"Y/N, it's not like that, and you know it. I never stopped loving you."

"Sunghoon said you didn’t care about me, that you didn’t care about our relationship. He said you found someone else…"

"Do you believe that jerk?"

You flinch at his sharp, cold tone.

"I..."

"You're still listening to him? I told you he's ruining your life. Didn't he make you fight with Karina? Why are you still falling for it?"

"I'm not falling for it..."

"Then shut up and stop talking about him. Everything he tells you is a lie, especially about me and our relationship. I’ve always loved you, Y/N. You know why we broke up, and it wasn’t our fault. It just happened."

You feel hot tears on your cheeks and start to sob. Haechan wipes your tears away and leans in to kiss them.

"Please, don’t cry. We... we’ll fix all of this when we get out of this game..."

You stay quiet, just looking at each other.

"Promise?"

"I promise." Haechan smiles, then slowly leans in to kiss you on the lips. Without thinking, you kiss him back. At first, it’s slow and calm. You place your hands on his neck, pulling him closer, and he moves his hands to your waist, doing the same. He presses you against the sink, and the kiss deepens and quickens. Haechan moves his hands from your waist to your hips. You’re running out of breath and pull away.

"Not here, Haechan…"

Haechan looks at you with dark eyes and slowly nods. He leans back in and kisses you again, but this time more gently.

"Oh my god, guys! You scared me! So this is where you disappeared to!" The door suddenly swings open, and Hendery walks in. You quickly pull away from Haechan and fix yourself, but Haechan seems unfazed that you were caught and quietly laughs at your reaction.

—

Third Game: Mingle!

Huh?

You were standing in a huge hall with carousel horses placed in the center. The host explained the rules while the five of you listened intently. After last night, Haechan stayed even closer to you, almost lying down next to you to protect you. Though you couldn’t help but wonder, protect from who?

The game began.

They spun you around so you nearly fell, but Haechan caught you in time. As you stood there together, a familiar voice echoed:

"Five!"

"We’re five!" Sungchan shouted, and you all ran to the door in a panic.

Everyone was scrambling, rushing to find their groups. You could’ve been left behind, frozen in shock, but Haechan held your hand tightly and pulled you toward the red door with the others.

5… 4…

The five of you quickly squeezed in and shut the door.

3… 2… 1…

Silence.

Standing beside Johnny, you peeked through the peephole to see the remaining players who hadn’t found their groups. Suddenly, you flinched as gunfire erupted. They were being executed one by one. You should’ve been used to this by now, but every time it left you frozen, unable to believe your eyes.

Haechan grabbed your wrist and pulled you close.

"I told you not to look. Look at me, only at me. Stay by my side, okay?"

You nodded quickly.

When the door opened, the smell of blood hit you like a wave. Red puddles spread across the floor.

"If people still want to play after this game, I’ll just shoot myself right here," Hendery muttered, walking toward the carousel.

Song began again.

“And have fun jumping around. Round and round.”

“3!”

The lights flickered, and the room descended into chaos. People were running again, panicked and screaming.

"Sungchan and I will find another group. You three stick together!" Johnny yelled.

You stood frozen, watching your friends, terrified to let them go. But the two guys grabbed your hands and pulled you toward the yellow door.

You barely managed to squeeze through before the timer ended and the door slammed shut.

You rushed to the door, frantically looking for Sungchan and Johnny, but they were nowhere to be seen. You could only hope they were safe.

When you exited, two tall guys immediately approached you.

"You’re alive!" Hendery exclaimed, hugging them.

“And have fun jumping around. Round and round.”

“4!”

The five of you looked around again when Haechan suddenly shouted:

«Go as a group of four! I’ll find someone on my own»You stared at him in shock, grabbing his hand.

«Are you crazy? I’m going with you!»

Haechan gently removed your hands and smiled.

«Y/N, please go. There’s no time.»

You shook your head, refusing, but Sungchan pulled you away by the arm. You tried to break free, yelling:

“Haechan, no! You idiot, don’t leave me! You promised to stay with me!”

But Haechan disappeared into the crowd. Sungchan managed to push you into a small room just as the door closed.

“No! Open it! Open the damn door!” you banged on the door, desperately peering through the peephole to find Haechan.

In the darkness, everyone looked alike, and with horror, you noticed someone who resembled Haechan. Right in front of you, they were shot. You stumbled backward, tears streaming down your face, and turned sharply to the others.

“What if it was him?! This is all your fault!”

“Y/N, calm down. He’s a smart guy; he must have found a group” Sungchan tried to reassure you.

“I just saw someone get killed! What if it was him?!”you cried hysterically, your vision blurring. You sank to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably, until Hendery approached and carefully tried to comfort you.

“He’s alive, Y/N. It’s going to be okay,” he said gently.

You were on edge, unable to think clearly. The games had pushed you to the brink, and the fear of losing Haechan consumed you. The pain of him leaving you again mixed with the terror of the moment.

When the door opened, Hendery helped you stand. You rushed out, scanning every door, but there was no sign of the one you were looking for.

“Guys!” a familiar voice called from behind.

You turned sharply and saw Haechan. He stood there with an elderly woman and two men.

“I found these wonderful people, and they saved me...” he began.

Before he could finish, you ran to him, throwing your arms around him so tightly it felt like you feared losing him again.

«Hey, Y/N, I’m here. Everything’s okay.»

«Don’t you dare leave me again,» your voice trembled with emotion.

You lifted your head, pouting slightly, and Haechan smiled softly at your adorable expression, brushing his hand over your hair.

“I promise, I won’t leave you.”

“This is the final round!”

“Thank god” Hendery said.

“And have fun jumping around. Round and round.”

“2!”

Haechan immediately grabbed your hand, pulling you close, and glanced at the others.

“Split up. Only one person is needed here, i can do it” Hendery said and smilled to you.

You and Haechan sprinted toward the door. He opened it and was about to step inside when you suddenly broke free from his grip. Someone shoved you roughly, pushing you aside.

A man dashed past you, slipping into the room with Haechan and slamming the door shut.

You froze, staring in horror at the closed door.

Haechan turned, realizing your hand was no longer in his. When he saw a stranger instead of you, his expression darkened with fury.

“Get out!” he shouted, shoving the man.

“There’s no time!” the man argued, resisting him.

Haechan said nothing. He punched the man in the jaw, then shoved him toward the door, but it wouldn’t budge.

The timer hit zero, and the doors locked.

Haechan stood motionless, staring at the door in disbelief. Then he heard gunshots.

No. No way.

"This is all because of you, asshole."

Haechan furiously lunges at the guy, punching him in the face.

"I’m sorry! I just wanted to survive! I accidentally went into your door!" the guy pleads.

"You pushed her! She was with me!" Haechan yells, continuing to hit him. But he suddenly freezes when he hears the guy’s next words:

"I didn’t push anyone, I swear! I was just running, trying to find someone, and I saw you were alone! Please, stop, don’t hit me!"

The guy covers his face with his hands as Haechan, still holding him by the collar, breathes heavily, staring him down. After a few seconds, the door opens.

Haechan immediately rushes into the hall, frantically scanning it for you. But you’re nowhere to be seen.

"Please, no…" he whispers, panic overtaking him.

A minute earlier.

You stare at the door in terror, watching another guy enter and shut it behind him.

You’re going to die.

You don’t even try to get up in the chaos around you. You’ve accepted it—this is the end. Is this really how it’s going to end? You didn’t even get to do anything with your life.

Your thoughts are interrupted by a hand grabbing yours and pulling you up. You stand and see Hendery in front of you.

"Hendery?"

"Quick, run! There’s only one door left!"

You spot the open green door, and the two of you dash toward it together.

There’s barely any time left, and you’re running as fast as you can.

4… 3…

No. You didn’t want to die. You couldn’t die now.

2…

Hendery pushes you through the door and quickly shuts it behind you.

1…

Click.

"Damn. We made it… I really thought I was going to die back there."

You sit on the floor, wide-eyed, staring at him. Hendery turns to you, his gaze softening.

"God, I’m so sorry. I pushed you too hard. I was panicking—we were so close to running out of time."

He rushes over to you, helping you up and checking for any injuries.

"I’m fine! Really, I’m okay. Thank you for saving me."

"You’re the one who saved me. If I hadn’t seen you, I would’ve died. But, wait… where’s Haechan?"

"Someone pushed me, and he got shoved into a room… That’s how we ended up separated."

"Man, people here are seriously insane."

You laugh and nod in agreement.

As Haechan gets closer to the carousel, he spots you standing next to Hendery. The moment you see him, you both run toward each other.

"Haechan, we made it! Hendery and I are safe!"

"If it wasn’t for her, I’d be dead! Some girl ditched me, and I was in complete panic!" Hendery adds.

But Haechan doesn’t hear a word. He simply pulls you into a tight embrace, breathing shakily. Then he starts inspecting your face and body, searching for any injuries.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt? Did you fall? Did he push you too hard?!"

"I’m fine, Haechan. I’m okay."

With a sigh of relief, he hugs you again.

"Don’t ever leave me like that again."

“I won’t i promise.”

note: squid game doesn’t have the end yet thats why this story doesn’t have too…

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cherrysurf · 2 days ago

Note

Hello! I was maybe thinking to help with the writers block, that maybe you could do Katsuki helping the reader in the gym! (They don't actually know each other, but they were basically the only people in the gym and the reader, or Katsuki, needed a spotter) :]

Early morning gym session !

professional trainer!bakugou x f!reader

little ooc, yn is athletic but not super (kinda half proofread)

It was 4am when you decided to hit the gym before work, you liked waking up early to be prepared for the day and another thing about it was that there was hardly anyone at the gym during those hours, a few people here and there but that was it. The only downside to this was the fact that when you needed a spotter you couldn’t ask because of lack of people or the fact that everyone was in the zone doing their own thing. So here you are again at the gym it was 4:30am it was only you and maybe two other people as you were setting up the weights on the rack to do squats, you were trying to reach a new rep but you were hesitant just in case you couldn’t lift it backup and didn’t want to cause a severe injury on your back right before work, so you look around to see if anyone was taking a break between their sets so they could help you real quick, that’s when you see a tall spiky blonde man sitting on a bench wiping sweat off his face and drinking water, although he did look intimidating you had no other choice it was that or the group of grandmas on the tendmills you decided to suck it up and go ask him if he says no you’ll just stick to the same rep you can do by yourself. You slowly walked up to him. He was down looking at his phone with his headphones in black sleek beats just like yours but yours were blue. Then he saw a pair of shoes on the floor and looked up to see you awkwardly waved hi and pointed at your ears to signify that you wanted to say something, he took off his headphones and then said “what do you want?” in a monotone voice, “uhm i’m trying to reach a new rep but i need a spotter and i saw you were talking a break so i wanted to ask, but if you can’t that’s totally okay! i understand so you don’t need to worry about it or feel forced or anything” you said rambling “6 reps of 14 or i’m not doing it.” he said “what?” you say confused “6 reps of 14 or i'm not doing it. How do you expect to grow your glutes without a proper amount of reps?” he said almost in a snarky manner “mmh can i at least get a break in between?” you say “if you do them right. If not, you start over” he said. “Why did you ask him you” wondered annoyingly. “So why should I take your advice?” you questioned the man “because i’m a personal trainer and i know a lot more than you.” he added while taking a sip of his water “oh?” you say stunned “mhm so let’s get started before i don’t want to do this anymore.” he standing up you simply just turned around and walked to where you were while he followed behind—

the time he spent as your spotter was hell, filled with yelling about not squatting properly, how weak you were, how he squats twice as much, you were sweating so much you looked like how he looked when you approached him after it was done you laid down on the floor trying to catch your breath “that was nothing i don’t know why you are so dramatic clearly you’ve never trained properly.” he said laughing in a mocking way all you could do was roll your eyes from the lack of energy to fight him back. “So what's your name?” he says looking down at you “yn. you?” you responded heavily breathing “bakugou.” he said “i could train you if you want to get better” he continued on “no thanks i don’t want to pay for someone to yell at me” you say “free of charge for now. We go to the gym at the same time and I'll have you follow my daily routine just for a girl” he says, offering his hand to get you up, which you are shocked by how quickly he was able to get you off the ground with one hand. “free for now?” you asked confused, “think of it like a free trial if you’re not annoying and do the workouts right we can keep it free.” he shrugs “gimme your phone so i can put my number in” he said you comply handing him your phone and he returns it back before walking off “enjoy the rest of your measly work out see you tomorrow for a real workout.” he said going back to the area he was in leaving you shocked and outta breath ready to go home and shower thinking about how sore your going to be “maybe i should call out of work. I’m gonna have jelly legs.” you say groaning in annoyance.

the next couple of days of this new found routine helped you out a lot despite you coming home sore the first few days, you looked and felt better and noticed results faster than normal so one day after you and bakugou had finished the gym session you wanted to thank him, so as you both were walking out to leave and go your separate ways you stopped him “hey uhm i actually have something for you as a thank you gift but it’s in my car, would you mind if i go get it really quick.” you say nervously “we can just walk to your car so you don’t have to walk all the way back here” he said, “okay” you say as you both walked to your car it was awkward but that’s how it was if you and him were working out, you make it to your car to unlock it and pull out the gift basket with pre-workouts and a thank you car and some other gym essentials, his face was shocked at the sight of it all he rolled his eyes “you know you didn’t have to do this.” he said looking at you holding the gift basket “i know but you don’t charge me for lessons and they’ve been helping so it’s the least i can do.” you say looking at him. “Whatever, thank you I guess.” he said, taking the basket. “See you tomorrow don’t be late” he said walking off with his gift in hand, which made you smile to see that hint of amusement on his face from the gift. just as you were about to drive off you get a text from him saying “let’s go out to eat this weekend so i can tell you what you can eat for the the best results” he said which made you squeal like a little girl “okay sounds cool” you text back trying to be nonchalant but we’re really freaking out in real life excited for your little “date” with the cute boy from the gym.

a/n- thank you meeya for looking over it 😞🤞🏼, also ty darhina for requesting this? i rlly enjoyed writing it!!

#cherrysurf writes #bakugou x y/n #bakugou fluff #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugo katuski #bnha bakugo katsuki #mha bakugou #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x you

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noxturnalmoth · 2 days ago

Text

What Could Have Been

Silco, the Eye of Zaun, the Industrialist, was first and foremost a son of Zaun who wanted his motherland free. After an altercation in which his adopted daughter shot him in a fit of rage, he is left dying while the world goes on without him. His life's work and ideals soon trampled to nothing as his memory fades from the world. But what if he was saved?

Chapter 2: Alone

"You have five seconds to explain what happened before I snap your neck."

Was gruffly said in your ear, ragged breath fanning the side of your neck and hair as the wet rag around your throat was pulled tighter. Although you knew very well he could and would kill you if given the opportunity, you refused to give in to your base instinct of attack, fight engraved in each cell in your body instead of flight.

"Can't do much if I can't talk." Was wheezed out as you managed to elbow him in the ribs. The attack could lead to either Slico dropping the rag to cradle his fresh wounds or him dragging you down while the rag choked you further, you were relieved that it was the former. Taking a gulp of fresh air, you turn quickly on the bed and ignoring your ankle's painful straining, straddled the man's waist, your legs hooked around his thighs while you pinned his hands above his hands. His teal eye was narrowed viciously, the teal a biting cold that clawed at you as his disfigured eye burnt you down, charring you to nothing by a simple rageful look. The black of its sclera seeming darker while the orange of the iris was shining bright like an inferno, a a much more different look than the calm yet restless dullness of it when Silco was unconscious. "And if you can't stop trying to kill me I'll have to leave us in this very uncomfortable position for the forseeable future. You're gravely wounded, barely stabilized, and if you try anything not only would it be easy to subdue you but if you managed to escape you'd be dead meat, no matter how strong you are. So can you please not?"

Nightmare fresh on your mind, still appearing behind each blink, exhaustion having sucked up all you had even after a small rest and pain making your voice clipped. His good eye widened slightly in surprise, probably not used to being talked to in such a way or physically handled for quite some time. His lips were pulled back in a sneer but when he tried to escape your grip and blood seeped from his wounds, pain shot through his and cut the action short by making him go limp and groan.

"Fine."

Is huffed from beneath you before you peel yourself away and softly appologizing for your action under your breath, action that also seems to astonish the man as if he had never expected his "captor" to show any ounce of humanity. And you had to rectify that horrible misunderstanding, if not for your pride, for his clarity of mind and relief.

You start the introduction by saying your name as you unwrapped his bandages.

"I found you in a building pretty well hidden between the fringes and the entresol level. I had been there for personal matter regarding a Chem Baron meeting." Silco takes a sharp breath, as sharp as the daggers he had hidden on his person when you first brought him home, aswell as the glare he was currently shooting you while you were cleaning and checking his wounds. "I know, it sounds suspicious, and it was. Those are worse sump rats than I am, because they don't even harbor any loyalty or cause but their own, not even to our people, to Zaun as a whole. I heard from the grape vine that you'd already have an attempt on your life done by Finn, so when I learned he was organizing a little clandestine takeover I had to know what it was about. Plus there's always good extra information to get, they're not careful enough with how they speak and act, it reveals all their cards to the one who actually has a mind and uses it properly."

He scoffs, tensing as your hands touch his skin but biting back any comment or insult he may have for you, knowing better than to bite the hand that heals.

"I was about to hide in the building you were detained in until the meeting started, and heard a whole lot of ruckus. Turns out a family reunion was happening, and i may have not seen anything but I heard enough to know someone got hurt. Even after I saw it was you I couldn't stop myself from running home, I had witnessed manslaughter and I was not about to let a fellow Zaunite die if I could help it. So what if it was you? I would have done it if it was anyone else of our people, even if it was a Piltie. But like hell I, as a trencher, was gonna let one of my own die if I had a say in it."

Your voice resounded in the curtain walled room, the rounded window letting the fluorescent lights filter through the mezzanine, as your hands applied ointment softly to the puckering scars. None had to be restitched but the movements he had performed earlier would make them more sore than they would have been had he not done that. Yet you understood, the man who had all the cards and control in Zaun dying, then finding himself in bed with a stranger was bound to activate fight or flight. And just like you, rebellion was carved deep within his soul.

"What do you want?" His voice had asked so roughly, like angry, rolling thunder hidden behind a curtain of dark, inky clouds.

"Nothing. I want nothing but your health and safety at the moment." Is what you humed back, your hands grazing him gently as you wrapped his chest and stomach. A hiss was heard, and as you looked at Silco you found him analyzing you, mouth downturned as if your mere existence displeased him, and it may have but you couldn't bring yourself to care. You were doing what you thought was right, you were helping one of your own and that's all that mattered.

"I'll ask again." He all but growls out. "What do you want?" Is clipped from behind clenched teeth, his hands going for youe throat. "I don't believe in good samaritans."

"You shouldn't. Everybody has something they want." My hand catches his wrists and his snarl grows deeper, carving his face with a grave expression. "My condition is you taking it easy to not make it any harder on either of us, and to just let me do this. Because I don't know if you've noticed but you've come back from near death Silco. Gone are the Eye of Zaun and the Industrialist, it's been a week and the world goes on without you. You've been old news since you got shot."

His breath hitches and his weak grasp on your throat tightens, eyes looking between each of yours, trying to find something, anything. Turns out, even if you're Silco, near death by the hands of a loved one is enough to make all your walls tumble down like a house of cards. So you bring my other hand up, enclosing both his wrists between your palms.

"I've admired you since I was a kid, Silco." You begin, speaking softly, your eyes looking onto his. "Somewhere along the way you lost yourself and you lost sight of what mattered the most, Zaun. You were obsessed with the idea of it and did all that you did for it, but in the end all you've done was for the semblance of a dream of youth. All you did was for revenge against Piltover, you were fuelled by hatred and now your dream and your empire both have toppled because you've grown overzealous."

"In the pursuit of great, you failed to do good, Silco." His hands clench again, your breathing slightly altered yet not enough to make you take action, his eyes looking at you, drowning and flaying you with their dual violence. "I wanted to save you not for the man you are and what he possesses, but for the man you once were that raised hell to Piltover's enforcers, the man that was a founding member of the Children of Zaun, the idealist who wished for all of his people to finally be free and happy, the child who fought tooth and nail in those mines to survive, the co-founder of the Lanes who helped us generate some of our own profit without Piltover, the man on whom the bridge attack's responsibility fell who then disappeared and came back a monster."

You grab his wrists tighter as he brings his face closer to yours, breath still smelling like tobacco even days after.

"I am not that man anymore, he has died."

"And so have you." You push his wrists away, getting out of the bed and pulling the chair back up from its position on the ground, sitting on it to rewrap your ankle. "So who will you be now Silco?"

Is the last thing uttered from your lips as you take the basin downstairs with your tray on top of it, emptying the cold water and preparing food for two for the first time since you crawled up from the deepest, darkest and most lawless parts of the sump you grew up in. Figments of memories still clinging to you as you hum to occupy the silence, to occupy your busy, loud mind, your gramophone too far for you to want to drag your exhausted body to it. Later, with the tray and basin filled with food and water respectively, you climb back up the stairs, careful not to hurt yourself more.

And opening the curtains you're surprised to see the man still awake, yet a part of you isn't, it feels like the coma he was in for the week was the most sleep he's gotten in years, and that saddened you as you knew exactly how it felt. He was sitting up on your bed, back on the wall, legs stretched as his eyes looked in front of him absentmindedly, lost in thoughts you could only guess were dreary.

"I have to work today, I've been gone for six days and people need me." You say as you set the tray on the bed, his eyes snapping to you as if he only just noticed you were there. "I'll be back later on, please don't try anything. If not for my sake, for your own. If there are still things you wish to accomplish in this life, rest." And those were the last words uttered between you that day as you left right after eating your breakfast.

Down in Zaun in this time of year the weather was bitingly cold, the metal storing the cool from the wind, rain and snow and distributing it to the whole of the Undercity, the bite getting worse the lower you got. But that was no matter for you, the forge was always warm, the hearth burning brightly and illuminating the shop in a soft orange glow as you fixed appliances and made tools, day in and day out helping your community. It felt good, cathartic even, to hit something in order to help someone instead of hurting them, and it felt good when people needed you because you were good at fixing and creating, not destroying. And everyday that Janna let you breathe, you'd thank yourself for working so hard towards achieving something worth being proud of with no one's help but your own and your community's. People who had taken you in their arms and offered a new chance at life seven years ago and for whom you worked incessantly for to balance out the ledger, to repay your debt. And as you arrived at your shop, started the flame and opened up, you saw people pouring in, faces old and new, but all of them you could help and you would, for in Zaun everyone knows the one rule: "we never give our own people away".

But everyone forgets its second part: "we always help our brothers and sisters if we can".

You didn't, and it was the one motto you lived by, day by day, muscles flexing and clenching, sweating at the flame's heat as you fixed, as you created, and today wasn't an exception, and neither was the next week. Silco seldom talked to you, his stomach healing slowly but surely as he begrudgingly followed your advice of staying in bed while you wondered what he was thinking about that had his eyes glaze over, staring into the nothingness and his ears deaf until you metaphorically shook him awake. You took on no new mission of your own, your mind not up to sabotaging the Piltie pigs or the Sump leeches while the man you now shared your life with was still healing, although while his stomach was getting along quite well, the rest of his body seemed to degenerate. You had told about him to your landlord, telling him and his family how you've come to have an unwilling roommate and revealing who he was, knowing that you didn't have to plead for them to keep their mouths shut and you couldn't be more glad to be a Zaunite.

News in Zaun could travel as fast as lightning or as slow as the rolling of the clouds bringing it forth. It had taken two weeks for you to hear from a client that Piltover's council building had been attacked the night you saved Silco, and that three councilor had died, Councilor Hoskel, Councilor Kiramman and Councilor Bolbok, aswell as Viktor, a fellow Zaunite and one of the brilliant minds behind hextech which revolutionized technology on topside. Your heart grew heavy as you were revealed the Perpetrator: Jinx, Silco's daughter and the one who nearly killed the man she called her father. The rest of your day was spent pondering how you could break the news to the man, his daughter had probably been so guilt stricken she destroyed the world and herself alongside it, yet you couldn't lie to him, even less if it's about the only person he loves. So that night, you pass by a food stall, getting food that you bring upstairs with you to Silco, stubble had filled his face, the marred side patchy and irregular. His eyes were tired and glossy, and when you sat down on your chair next to your bed and placed the warm bag on the bed, they dragged lazily to you instead of snapping as usual. His shivering curled up form on the bed, his jaw locked tight as if in immeasurable pain, he wrapped himself deeper in your blanket, trying to maintain a cold façade even after everything.

He was ashamed and you knew it, ashamed of his near death at the hands of his daughter, ashamed at his weakness in this whole ordeal, control slipping between his fingers like sand. But it looked like something else was at play, he was flushed, sweaty and sensitive to sound, touch and light since you came back from work the day he woke up, the condition getting worse astime passed, and you knew you would never be able to get information as to why if you didn't drive a good bargain, so sighing you straighten up.

"I have knews of your daughter." Was what had him sit up, doubling over in pain yet it wasn't his stomach that he held but his eye. "But I will only tell you if you tell me what's going on."

"So you've finally decided to execute your power over me?" His voice wavered as he tried to force it to unleash venom, spittering and acidic against your skin as he got close to your face, his tired eyes looking particularly frenzied, the braziers of hell flickering dangerously in a way that had you narrowing your eyes in confusion.

"No, but there is something you're not telling me that's ailing you and I can't help if you don't let me."

"Why would I?"

"Because you want to know about Jinx." Cut through the fast paced hissing tone he had set for the conversation. "Don't you?" You tilt your head, secretly hoping that in his exhaustion he'll bite, because as much as you wanted him healthy you also knew of how comandeering and stubborn he was. And if his rough sigh, partly sounding like a growl, was anything to go by? You had won your bet against yourself.

"My eye. It's a source of constant pain, migraines, blurry vision at times, others it's depth perception being messed with. Those I can deal with usually, but this.." He stops, taking a deep breath, hand covering his bad eye. "I get episodes. My skin is rotting, so are my nerves, slowly but surely. I usually have a medication for it, but I have not the injector nor the serum."

There it was, and as you observed just how bad his condition was now, you knew he had been hiding his pain better than anyone else could have in his situation. Skin looking so much paler and its flush so much redder, the sweat gleaming all over his flesh, the marring across his left cheek running deeper, the gray flesh looking darker and like it was conquering more of the sickly territory of his face. That's when you realized that the flickering of his eye was a very persistant and visible pulsing of the organ. His flesh had been rotting before your eyes and you have no idea on how to help.

"What serum?" Your voice rushes, eyes looking at him as your hands measured the temperature of his forehead, burning.

"Shimmer." His voice croaked, no longer the energy for an angry growl. You take a sharp breath

"And the injector?"

"Made to deliver the shimmer directly in my pupil, it had a circular tubing around it to help place it around the eye." He pants a bit, closing his good eye to try to focus on anything but the pain. "I normally need one injection per day" And at that you were back up, telling him to eat without you.

"You still havent told me about-" He starts, scrambling on the bed to reach you, his voice breaking, tears clinging to his lower lashes, yet you cut him off.

"I'm not letting you know news about your daughter while you're agonizing, I'm not a monster. But just know that for now, she's a fugitive."

Closing the door behind you, you rush as much as your twisted ankle can permit you, stinging pain eating at every single one of your steps while youcut through town, goin to see an old connection of yours. Samira was a pharmacian, one of the rare ones down here in the Undercity, her pharmacy more akin to an apothecary shop yet her products were proven to help provided whatever relief you seeked. If anyone had to have proper uncut shimmer, it was her. And you were right, as you explained your conundrum to Samira she nodded and handed you a dozen of vials. "Free of charge" as the eye of Zaun had died, she had said huffing out a laugh at the Irony, but as you shoved them in your coat pockets hurriedly she asked if you were alright.

"I'm managing." Was all you answered before high tailing it for your shop, leaving her in the dust.

The hearth was burning bright as you lit it, pondering how to go about making his injector. You couldn't make one from scratch, it would take too long and you shivered as you thought back of the fact he had hidden the fact his flesh was rotting away. He had been in horrible pain, adding up day after day, effects piling up as he curled up on his own. And you felt for this man, although it was misplaced pride he was still clinging to the last thing allowing him control: himself. And there, in your bed, weak and helpless albeit still fighting for the last shred of his integrity, you had recognized the man you admired as a child, the look in his eyes as you mentionned his daughter had been fiery. Even if he was in pain he was still doing all he could, although he couldn't move, he was still holding on. And as you picked spare parts in the back of the shop and set them on the anvil, you decided that as long as he was with you, you'd provide him with all the help he needed. Even if he never came back to the young revolutionary he once was, even if he remained the stubborn mean bastard he was now, even if he left, what you sad today was a lonely man. His eyes, his voice, you knew that look more than anyone. It's the one you had, surrounded by people yet never truly feeling like you fit in no matter what you did.

So as you heated up the metal parts and assembled them together you allowed yourself to think back to that loneliness. The one that makes everything feels transactional, like you can only be loved if you provide, the crippling pain of seeing others have friends and family while companionship of any kind terrifies you to the core, like it was a starved beast ready to gnaw you alive, from your skin to your flesh and even your bones. It's that loneliness that mixes with the sleepless nights, haunted by visions of horror as if you were in a fancy Piltovan cinema, locked in a theater of your own demons while the film rolled indefinitely. The one that leaves your throat and skin raw as you scream and claw at your skin, hoping to wash and expell away any ounce of pain you feel, but it's never enough, so you never scream again and encase your heart in molted iron, letting it cool into a spiked shell. The look Silco had in his eyes, the tone in his voice, you felt for him because you were the same, and you knew he'd reject you, but you were willing to try to help him. It was selfish, you knew as much, but you had been someone good for others for almost a decade, shaping yourself into someone accepted and beloved yet nothing could bring you close enough to your people no matter how much you loved them and how much they loved you. Because there was always a part of yourself you hid, an ugly past that you didn't wish to unhearth in fear of your house of cards crumbling down. Yet the need for emotional closeness intrinsic to human beings ate at you day after day. And maybe it was foolish to think that by helping Silco you could help yourself too, and it disgusted you to think that you had maybe expected something from him after all even if unknowingly, but you were willing to try, even if he was the only one benefitting from it at the end.

A couple of hours had passed by the time you finished the injector, rushing back home ignoring your own pain again in favor for helping the man in your appartment, as you have done for the past two weeks. Door slamming open and shut as you hurried your limping form upstairs, Silco crumpled on the bed, curled up on himself. And when you touch his shoulder he reels back, as if your touch had branded him. His eyes were angry, confused and pained, cheeks painted with bitter sweat and salty tears as blood dripped from his bitten lips, his arms and ribs marked with half moons. He had been hurting himself, to forget the pain you wager, of his condition and of how in the span of so little time all he has worked towards for crumbled to dust. And as one of your hands goes to your coat pocket to retrieve the injector and one tube of shimmer.

"I did all I could, do you want me to let you do it on your own?" You say softly, hand caressing his before raking some of his sweaty, messy bangs back to the crown of his head and away from his eyes. As my hand leaves his burning face he grabs it and sits up.

"What happened to Jinx?"

"Silc-"

"What happened to her?!" A gasp escapes him at his own raised voice as he falls back on the pillow, writhing in pain yet tensing to not let it appear quite as much, the concern and anger in his tone and mannerisms still very present.

"She..Shot the Council, three councilors dead, a Zaunite civilian aswell, the co-creator of Hextech I believe, she's now considered an enemy of Piltover and will be hunted down. It happened the day you nearly died." I sigh, my hand turning in his, entertwining our fingers and squeezing, hoping to bring any measure of comfort. "Silco you're torturing yourself, take the shi-"

"I need to go back to Jinx, she needs me." His voice cracked, his waning strength pushing you away as he stood up, knees buckling under him before you caught him in your arms, his extra weight making you taste the violent crack in your ankle.

"Haven't you done enough Silco?" You ask gently as you set him back down. "That girl is already haunted enough as it is, don't you think it's better to not appear to her again, that it's time to let her go? You'd be another ghost to her, and in the state you're in now you'd die in front of her again by the time you got to her."

"You don't know what's best for-"

"I may not know what's the best for your daughter but you do, and you know as well as I do that coming back will only hurt her further. You have nothing anymore Silco, how can you expect to be someone she falls back to? How can you expect to be a good father if you're not even the man she knew?" His anger is evident on his face, and you're understanding of why, it wasn't the lack of refusals towards him in the past few years that provoked his rage, no it was that he realized how the little control he believed he still held had been gone, and that the words you uttered were nothing but the unfortunate truth.

"I don't mean to hurt you, all I want is for you to be back up and running, and happy if that's even possible, but let me ask you that. Is your past life really worth you rushing back to? The senseless violence and drugs you dealt to your own people, an empire brought forth by our brothers and sisters you've subdued, greedy, stupid and distrustful collegues that wait for any occasion to stab you in the back no matter how loyal they may seem. We've all heard of Jinx, if we haven't dealt with her first hand, do you really believe a good father would have weaponized his daughter, Silco? Had you been a good father, would she have even been there and done what she's done? You've been the best father you could be, but blinded by your own trauma and ambition you've used the girl's affection to further your own agenda. Look at yourself, alone and destitute, and no one brought it upon you other than yourself, Silco."

"We've grown up in a world were there was never enough for everyone. I was trying to pull us out of the depths Piltover dragged us in but I don't expect you to understand, child." He all but spits.

You sigh, placing the injector and shimmer on your desk, sitting on the bed next to Silco who was shaking, rage and a maelstrom of other feelings emanating from him, swirling like a destructive tornado as his eyes ripped you apart.

"We've grown up in a world where there wasn't enough to go 'round for everyone, but have you made it any better? Or have you just capitalized on our pain, profitted on the fear and violence you brought forth? All you've done was make Zaun an enterprise and still saying it was for all of us, but you lost all of that years ago haven't you, you fought for all of us even when you've lost the plot. You're a lonely, terrified and pained man hiding behind a façade of control you've carefully built over the years, but that pain only grew hasn't it? So you tried to make yourself into the monster every Piltie sees in all of us so their attention is diverted to you, you shouldered all of the responsabilities in Zaun, you've raised a child, and you've still failed in all of those! Your façade terrifies even your own people, your empire toppled over and your child's crazy! You make everything worst by clinging to it, trust me, sometimes it's better to just let go. "

You breathe heavily, gulping as your hands gripped the bed, sheets crumpled in between your fingers. A thud resounds through the room and looking behind you, you see Silco sitting up with his back against the wall, his bi colored eyes looking to the copper tool and the glowing purple vial. The rage softening slowly, the chipped teeth showing from his angry snarl now hidden behind the curtain of his lips. He breathes heavy and shivers, pain mixing with emotions he seems too overwhelmed to even try to understand. But then his good eye opened a bit more, no longer hiding the tumultuous ocean within his teal iris as it looks from you to the table on which are placed the objects he needed. A silent invitation, you decypher. And so you nod, your lungs heaving as you bring the shimmer and injector to the poor man beside you. Your eyes meeting his again, all the energy and the fight had left him, there sat Silco in what you surmised was his purest form, tears flowing down his cheeks, eyes so pained you felt like you were about to double over. His jaw was clenched and his lips pulled in a sneer, the usual rage nowhere to be seen, it was something more visceral this time. And as you went to give him the material he shook his head, his arms crossing across his chest, nails digging to the sides of his arms.

So you approached slowly to not agitate him any further, he looked troubled enough as is. You looked at him every step of the preparation, putting the vial in the contraption, unlocking the needle cap, and placing the cylindrical apparatus to his eye to stabilize your hand, giving him a chance to back down everytime. But he never did, and once you injected the product, his form crumpling in pain, you realize just how vulnerable he had allowed himself to be. Your thumb wiping away a purple tear, the same purple tainting the burning orange of his ruined eye, before he slaps it away and turns his back to you, laying down. His body was no longer shivering and from what you had seen neither was the unblinking black and orange gem adorning the left side of his face. Understanding he needed space after that, you left the vials and injector and went downstairs, showering before you crumpled in the couch you've been sleeping in for the past two weeks, curling up on yourself.

The days are long after that, no more words uttered between you two, a tense and overwhelming silence taking over your appartment, he still only ate whenever you were away and you grew more restless but you understood. He needed time, to digest the hard truths, to take a good look at himself and wonder what he was doing to himself, what he had done to himself, and what he would do with himself later on. You knew that confusion better than anyone, and as you remember the feel of your bruised and ruined hands, the sounds of screams and cheering, the stench of corpses, booze and sweat, the taste of blood and tears. You've become someone good, helpful and, you hoped, worth knowing. But in whichever future you imagined it was always lonely, no one waiting for you at home, no friends close enough to you to know everything, a void still ripping your chest apart. He had lost himself for some reason, but you could only imagine the crippling loneliness he felt was why he clung to his dream so hard even after diverging from it, why he clung to the comandeering façade he had created, why he clung to his daughter like a lifeline. Because they were the only thing that reminded him he was alive and human at all. Just like helping people no matter the cost has been what kept you going.

One day after work, your body heavy and dragging as you moved, you brought up his dinner as always, expecting him to barely look at you, chilling eyes sizing you up as you left. But when you began to retire his hand caught your wrist, dragging you to the bed, tray discarded on your desk.

"Would letting her go truly be the only good thing I can do?"

His voice, rough from unuse, breaks the silence. Its low rumbling leaving a crackle of electricity behind it.

"I believe so." Is the simple answer you give.

"I would have nothing left."

You shake your head, freeing your wrist and laying your hand upon it on the bedsheets. "You'd still be alive, there's a chance for you to build something. You've forgotten yourself Silco, you've locked who you truly are away for too long. I think it's time for you to redescover yourself."

"Do you know who you are?" And at that you chuckle and shake your head again a soft "no" escaping your lips, your eyes gently raking over his form which was much healthier now that he had his medicine. "Then how do you-"

You interrupt his angry inquiry. "Because I know what I'm not. Do you?" And he freezes, his scowl softening as do his eyebrows, his eyes looking past you and through you to see something you cannot.

"The Eye of Zaun, the Industrialist, they're gone." He breathes out roughly, one hand dragging through ink black and soft silver, and when arrived at the back of his head the hand tugs as if to bring his focus back. You nod, they had died a month ago, both of them, and as his eyes looked down to your linked hands you feel like that realization finally weighs in on him.

"You asked me when you woke up what I wanted from you. I've said that I only wanted you healthy, but I suppose I can't in good conscience continue to lie." He freezes and his eyes snap back to yours, hand gripping yours in a vice, not in anger, in something deeper, more all consuming. And you know that from the way the air shifts and his face twitches, like a child terrified of getting struck. "I did want your health to return to you, but I suppose I also didn't want to be alone anymore. People suffer in Zaun, that much is a fact for all of us, but I have seen things and done things, I've lived through events that molded me against my will. Events that most would not understand no matter how much they care. So I remain surrounded but alone, never truly myself with anyone. I guess, knowing parts of what happened to you, deep down...I hoped we could be friends. So I decided to be good to you no matter how bad you could be to me, as I always do, and even if you end up leaving I'll be glad if you at least felt cared for. Because I believe that no matter how well you hide it, you feel alone too."

Eyes lock and his hand relaxes, his eyebrows twitch and his eyes flutter around your face, digging for any hidden viciousness, for any burried intentions, but he finds none. You can see it in the drop of his tense shoulders, in the slow breath coming out of you.

"And you think I'd understand?" He drawls softly.

"I know you would, whether you want to or not. But you have a choice to stay or leave, I will never keep you against your will. As soon as you're good to go, feel free to do whatever you want."

"I'm not a good man."

"People can change, the question is whether they're willing to or not."

Silence ticks by, food untouched as you shift on the bed thinking the conversation is over, yet Silco's hand drags you back down.

"And you're willing to try?"

"Of course."

"It would be rotten work." The words spill from his lips before he can even think of a less emotive answer and your head shakes yet again. You set yourself next to him on the bed, enjoying the plushness of the mattress for the first time in weeks.

"Never to me. It's my job to fix things after all, no matter how battered, broken and unusable, no matter if the process is long, complex, or if I get hurt in the end."

Your hand quits his as it and its twin burrow in your pockets, procuring a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. You place two rolls of paper and tobacco between your lips, lighting them with a flick of the thumb, opening the silver rectangle which provided a large flickering flame. You take one cigarette between two fingers and show it to Silco, asking for a truce of sorts. His hand hesitates, yet shivering fingers find your question and accept its terms, the filter that had previously surrounded by your lips now enclosed between his.

"I don't think I ever had a friend." Your voice softly says, expelling smoke as you broke the comfortable silence, eyes looking up at the ceiling. You see him nod from your peripherals, his head leaning back to do the same as you.

Everyone needs to be drunk on something to stay alive.

And albeit differently, for the both of you it was affection.

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Taglist: @vicurious28 @midromiell @zorosleftmantit101 @anthy-j-ander @agathasslutt

#arcane #arcane x reader #arcane x female reader #silco #arcane silco #silco arcane #silco x reader #silco x you #teacher x student #league of legends #silco league of legends #disabled reader #fluff #silco fluff #smut #silco smut #whatcouldhavebeen

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cowboylikefaith · 3 days ago

Text

with great power...

art donaldson spiderman! au x reader

summary: stanford has a masked superhero on the loose, and you're trying to crack down on his identity. little do you know, it's your boyfriend art.

warnings: cursing, injuries, reader highkey gets mugged, art is being mysterious af, reader is incredibly oblivious, sappy at the end sorry, not proofread

author's note: HI so this is actually my first time writing a fic ever... but this au idea has been absolutely rotting in my brain for the past week or so and i need to get it out. enjoy!!!!!!

╰🕸️ ₊✧ ﾟ❤️⚬𓂂➢

"dude!" you say barging into art's dorm (not realizing that your poor boyfriend was in the middle of a nap) "look at the topic the newspaper just assigned me. some shithead on campus is doing parkour in a scuba suit, people are calling him 'spiderman'."

art is pulled out of his trance-like state when he hears the name fall out of your mouth. you feel bad after realizing you woke him up, seeing him wipe his tired eyes with a pout on his lips. "hey pretty" he says with a lopsided smirk on his face "what were you talking about? some spider-idiot?" you hop into bed next to him "yeah it's nothing...sorry for waking you up, just go back to bed, 'kay?"

you don't know what's been up with art recently. he rarely returns your calls, he's always tired, and when he's awake, he's either in a rush or incredibly sluggish. you asked patrick about it and he said that the beginning of a new tennis season is wearing both of them down. seems reasonable, right?

now, it's been a few weeks since you were assigned this story, and jess (your senior editor) wants you to photograph and interview this spiderman guy, because apparently he's some kind of campus superhero (returning stolen laptops, helping drunk sorority girls avoid getting hit by cars, the usual) however you have no leads so far.

until one day, tashi tells you a story about how he saved a freshman from the tennis team from being hazed, and you decide to ask your boyfriend about it.

"you don't know anything about a kid named steven mcdonald, do you?" you ask art as you settle down to watch some gossip girl.

"that freshman who survived a hazing incident? yeah, i know of him" he replies as he pulls you into his arms and kisses your forehead.

you pull away with furrowed eyebrows "well did he...say...anything about that night?"

"uh no. no, not really" he says (a little distantly) "anyway! i seriously don't understand why serena loves dan so much, nate is obviously the better choice for her."

you roll your eyes sarcastically "wow donaldson...really smooth transition! way to change the subject there honey."

"i'm sorry.." he replies as he plays with your hair "it's just that...i don't want you getting mixed up in that kind of stuff. if you got hurt.." he sighs "i don't know what i'd do with myself"

and so you promise art that you'll stop working on the article...until jess says she'll kick you out of the stanford star if you do.

one night, as you're walking back to your dorm after dinner with tashi and patrick (third wheel much?), a man in a black ski mask suddenly approaches you and orders you to put your hands up.

"give me your fucking heels lady...and your purse!" he demands.

"oh god no" you shut your eyes and groan "please sir, these are really expensive and- and these are manolo blahniks!! my mom bought-"

before you can finish your rambling, you can hear a thud, and when open your eyes, you can see that he's been wrapped up in some web-like substance.

"don't worry, he's not dead" a figure says as he walks out from behind the criminal. you feel like you know him, you can't even see his face but something about him is just so familiar, and you can't put your finger on it. until..

oh my god

"oh my god! you're spiderman! thank you so much, seriously. that guy could've killed me" you say excitedly, forgetting about your past opinions about him.

art- i mean spiderman, chuckles and says that it's no problem, and asks if he could take you back to your dorm.

"yeah! i would love that, thank you." you reply "actually, could i take your photo? i'm doing an article about you for the stanford star." oh and art eats it UP. he's doing stupid poses and acting silly and goofy (just to hear you laugh of course).

you get back to your dorm safely, and spiderart bids you farewell. just before he leaps out your window, he pulls a red stanford cap (one that you've never noticed, and one that looks suspiciously like art's) out of his pocket.

"hey, maybe i'll see you around" he says as he puts the cap on...backwards. something that only art would do. lucky enough for him, you're too tired to notice.

"...and those are the differences between meiosis and mitosis." you're trying to study for another biology exam when all of a sudden you hear a tapping noise on your window.

at first you think it's a bird, or some frat boy trying to piss you off by throwing empty beer cans at your window, but the tapping turns into banging and you start to hear sounds of pain through the glass.

you run to the window and see a boy in a familiar red and blue suit sitting on the windowsill. this time with a huge gash in his side.

"spiderman? oh my god, get inside, what happened?" you ask while scrambling for a first aid kit. art falls onto your bed, unknowingly bleeding all over your new floral sheets. he groans and holds his side, mumbling something about...well god knows what.

art protests as you try to patch up the very open wound by his waist. "you're just like my boyfriend art," you say with a grin "he gets all fucked up during his tennis matches and doesn't let me help him out." you can hear him through the mask but you can't tell if it's a laugh or a whimper.

"jesus- how long is this going to take? i have an econ final to study for" he says with a wince. "not very long if you sit still, spiderboy" you retort "why don't you take off your mask? you must be dying with that thing on."

you feel his face, and it feels...familiar. you slowly take off the mask, and reveal art's lips, sculpted nose, blue and brown eyes, and tousled blonde hair.

suddenly you realize. you realize the reasons for the missed calls, hurried kisses, and rain-checked dates. all this time you've been thinking that it was tennis kicking his ass, when really art was kicking other people's.

"hi honey" art mumbles, same lopsided, boyish smile that you fell in love with gracing his face "i'm sorry. i should have told you." before you can say anything, he kisses you and sneaks his hands to the small of your back. you can feel him smiling into the kiss as he pulls you into his lap.

"i missed you" you say, pulling away with a pout. you card your hands through his blonde curls. "i know, i know, i'm sorry pretty girl, it's just that...i don't want you to worry about me." art replies, pushing your hair away from your face.

you flick his forehead. "you dumbass. of course i'm going to worry about you, whether you like it or not...because i like you. a lot. no matter what kind of freaky superpowers you have." art lets out a weak chuckle, then he kisses you like a man stuck in the desert for 40 days. you can feel him drawing small circles along your hips and caressing your thumb.

you pull away one last time. "now tell me spiderboy...how did you go from tennis team captain to stanford superhero?"

#mike faist #art donaldson #challengers #challengers 2024 #mike faist x reader #art donalson x reader #patrick zweig #tashi duncan #guys please i was in ap lang i swear i'm good at writing #spiderman

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chrissturnsfav · 9 hours ago

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hii! would it be possible for you do to smth with rapper!chris and singer!reader like in an argument? she's being like rlly sassy, and he's not having it.

love your work, xoxo!

⋆.˚✮ rapper!chris gives singer!reader an attitude adjustment

the music pulses through the crowded house, a steady thrum that matches the beat of your heart. lil skies’ party is in full swing, packed with people flaunting their best outfits and vibes.

you stick close to chris at first, your hand looped around his arm as you weave through the crowd. he’s glowing tonight—chain sparkling under the neon lights, his grin wide and easy, and that confident air that draws people in like a magnet.

you try not to notice how the room seems to orbit him. it’s always like this. everyone loves chris.

you’ve had a couple of drinks, and he’s been passing a blunt back and forth with his brothers. the triplets are a force of their own, but chris stands out, as he always does. you watch him throw his head back in laughter at some joke nick cracks.

you love that smile. it’s what hooked you in the first place.

but then you notice her.

across the room, leaning against the kitchen counter, a girl is staring at chris. no—staring through you, her gaze locked on him like you don’t even exist. her lashes flutter as she tilts her head, a coy smile playing on her lips. she’s doing it on purpose, you can tell. her body language screams it: the way she adjusts her skimpy top, showing just a little more skin, the way she sips her drink slowly, almost tauntingly.

you glance at chris. he hasn’t noticed her—he’s too busy talking to matt about something, his hands gesturing animatedly. but it doesn’t matter. her intentions are clear, and they’re pissing you off.

"really?" you mutter under your breath, more to yourself than anyone else. but the irritation simmers, fueled by the alcohol in your system. you can’t stop the thoughts racing through your mind.

chris turns to you, his eyebrows raised. "what’s up?" he asks, that easy smile still on his face.

you bite the inside of your cheek. "nothing," you mumble, even though it’s not nothing.

he gives you a look, the one that says he knows you’re lying. he always knows. "c'mon mama, tell me," he says, leaning closer so you can hear him over the music.

you roll your eyes, crossing your arms. "that girl over there has been eye-fucking you."

chris glances around, confused. "what girl?"

"don’t play dumb, chris," you snap, your voice sharper than you intend. "the one in the kitchen."

his expression shifts, his smile faltering as he scoffs, "ma, i didn’t even notice her," he says, his tone honest yet slightly irritated that you're mad at him for something he can't control. "m'not lookin' at anyone but you."

"that’s not the point!" you whine, your voice rising. "she’s staring at you, and you’re just fucking standing here like you don't give a fuck."

chris runs a hand through his hair, looking frustrated now. "fuck am i supposed to do 'bout that?"

"you could at least act like you care!" you shoot back, your words slurring slightly from the alcohol.

"i do care ma," he says, his voice tight. "but m'not startin' a scene over sum'n i can't even control."

your chest tightens, the mix of jealousy and alcohol clouding your judgment. "you don’t fucking get it, chris. you never do."

his eyes narrow, the easygoing vibe he’s been carrying all night slipping away. "never?" he repeats, his tone sharp now. "really? that’s what y'think?"

you cross your arms tighter, trying to steady yourself. "yeah, i do," you say, the words coming out harsher than you intend. "you fucking act like it’s nothing, like it doesn’t matter, but it does."

chris shakes his head, his jaw tightening as he takes a step back, his frustration plain on his face. "wow," he mutters, running a hand over his face. he scoffs, shaking his head as he looks at the floor, "'y'never do,' she said..."

"don’t you fucking twist this on me," you snap. "i’m not the one acting dumb while some girl—"

before you can finish, chris grabs your arm—not hard, but firm enough to stop you mid-sentence. his eyes are dark, frustration simmering beneath the surface.

you open your mouth to protest, but before you can get a word out, he’s tugging you through the crowd. you stumble slightly, his grip steadying you as he weaves through the sea of drunk celebrities. your heart pounds, both from the lingering anger and the sudden shift in his energy.

he doesn’t say a word as he pulls you down a hallway and pushes open the door to a bathroom, ushering you inside before closing and locking the door behind him. the sound of the lock clicking sends a jolt through you, the tension in the small space almost suffocating.

"what the fuck, chris?" you snap, crossing your arms, though your voice lacks the bite it had moments ago.

he scoffs, a hint of a smirk on his lips as he shakes his head. he sets his drink down on the counter before he pushes you against the door of the bathroom by your waist, his grip tight.

you gasp, caught completely off guard, confusion yet something else swirling in your slightly lidded eyes, "what're you doing?" you ask as you furrow your brows, keeping up your sassy tone.

"y'clearly need an attitude adjustment baby," he mutters, leaning in closer until his lips are a centimeter away from yours.

you don’t respond—can’t respond—because the next thing you know, his mouth is on yours, claiming you with a heat that leaves no room for argument. his hands slide to your hips, pushing you harder against the door, and any protest you had dies in your throat.

every ounce of jealousy and bitterness is gone by the time chris has you bent over the bathroom sink, fucking you with remaining irritation and force. he has one hand squeezing the flesh of your ass while the other holds your face up by your throat, forcing you to watch yourself fall apart for him in the mirror.

"this what y'needed didn't you?" he snickers through a grunt, smirking at your makeup smudged face in the mirror as he fucks into your puffy pussy harder.

when you try to respond, all that comes out is jumbled and incoherent whines, your mind clouded with intoxication and pure bliss, your hands gripping onto the countertop harshly as tears of pleasure prick the corners of your eyes.

chris chuckles darkly, swiping his tongue over his bottom lip as he slaps your ass, making you squeal and gasp, "yeah, that's what i thought. fuckin' sassin' me over shit i can't control ten minutes ago, 'n now look at you," he scoffs, hissing in pleasure with a deep grunt before he finishes his sentence, "fuckin' goin' stupid over my cock like always."

thank you for reading! <3

tags: @sturnobsessedwh0re , @idrk2292 , @mattsbrat , @ribbonlovergirl , @swagalicious260 , @sturnhyyhblog , @matthewsroses , @mattsdemi , @emely9274 , @frankoceanfanpage , @ifwdominicfike , @marrykisskilled , @strnilolover , @cayleeuhithinknott , @forgottxen , @sophand4n4 , @sturnsrecord , @purpledragon222 , @faiyaz555 , @jocelyncsblog , @freakiolos

@chrissturnsfav ™

#ᰔᩚ rapper!chris x singer!reader prompt #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #ᰔᩚ rapper!chris x singer!reader #chrissturnsfav ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི

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dedeinthewild · 2 days ago

Text

paul aron x reader, no labels

- “I’m carrying my body weight in presents, so shut it"

The magic of Christmas was something special—something that could mend relationships, make adults feel like children again, and bring together those who had drifted apart.

Colorful ornaments adorned towering Christmas trees, hiding the gifts underneath just a little. And if Christmas was spent with family, it became even more beautiful.

The girl Paul was closest to had caught the last flight to Tallinn before heavy snow temporarily slowed down the flow of passengers at the Estonian airport. She had settled into the beautiful villa where the boys lived. She loved Christmas, the preparations that came with it, the wonderful smiles of children, and all the little things that brought her joy.

She was the kind of person who was content with very little, always smiling beneath the glasses she wore to avoid straining her eyes—the same eyes Paul never got tired of looking into.

They hated putting labels on themselves or talking about their relationship. Between them, everything was so simple that trying to define it felt like an unnecessary complication for something so pure and clean. They had met by chance and continued to see each other between video calls, with the occasional late-night message when one of them had fallen asleep and the other needed to talk.

And so, an extra place was added at the table that year. Despite her mind telling her to spend the holidays with her family, as she always had, her heart needed to enter that home and experience something new. Everything was new for her there, except for a few people who had grown accustomed to discovering new parts of her—and adoring every one of them.

Perhaps some would call it a bold move to invite her to something as important as Christmas with the family, but as everyone thought, there was nothing more transparent than the affection she had for the Estonian driver, his family, and their traditions—not to mention the huge smile that lit up her face when she saw the children. They were so blonde they looked like a little team of angels.

“I really, really want to help,” said the girl as she sliced bread on a wooden cutting board, ready to set it on the table. Margit, who wanted her to enjoy the evening without lifting a finger, tried to dissuade her.

“If I were you, I’d let her,” Paul chimed in, stealing a breadstick from the container as he walked behind the women of the house and Ralf, who was checking whether the evening’s first dish was cooking properly.

She turned, giving him an amused look, her hair tied back in a messy bun with strands of her bangs slipping loose onto her forehead.

“Don’t look at me like that,” the Estonian said, crossing his arms and leaning his lower back against the kitchen counter.

“I’m not violent or anything, I swear,” she said, raising her hands in mock innocence toward the driver’s mother, who responded with a sweet, elegant laugh.

“I have something to say about that,” Paul teased.

“Have you decided you’re a pain in the ass?” Anna shot back, trying to chase her brother out of the kitchen by pushing and holding him by the arm.

“Everybody hates me. I’m done,” he declared, stealing another breadstick behind his back as he disappeared through the door to lift one of his nephews into the air. The child had been loudly calling for Uncle Paul.

The atmosphere was beautiful. From the kitchen island, Margit, Anna, and the family’s new addition could see the entire living room, where an explosion of joy brought color to an otherwise minimalist home.

All the children were seated around the tree, with one of the more distant uncles dressed as Santa Claus telling stories, while the Aron cousins worked on drawings that the kids would later sign.

Ralf had connected his phone to one of the speakers scattered throughout the house and started playing a Christmas playlist, making the girl wrinkle her nose.

But the best part was sitting down to eat together. The children sat at their own table, engrossed in a conversation about the latest cartoon to watch, while the adults discussed various topics.

One of the evening’s focal points was the girl herself. Sitting next to Paul, she answered an endless stream of questions from everyone. She was having fun, watching how Paul’s grandmother got emotional at every one of her answers while gently stroking her husband’s hand with her thumb.

“You’d make a perfect couple,” the elderly woman blurted out, pushing her glasses up her nose to get a better look at them. Both smiled, a hint of shyness softening their carefree expressions.

Paul passed her the dishes, asked if she’d like something to drink, and, when speaking with relatives in Estonian, would place a hand on her shoulder and whisper a translation before resting his chin on her head.

At Christmas, Paul changed a little. Amid the noisy table, he withdrew into himself, speaking only when spoken to, his gaze often fixed on the children’s table where they played. But that year, she had managed to make him an integral part of the group, encouraging him to open up and join the conversations with that radiant smile of hers.

“How are you feeling?” he asked while Anna had already whisked away the dishes to prepare for one of their family’s beloved traditions.

“Good,” she replied with a smile, looking into his eyes.

He ran one of his large hands through her hair, letting it slide to her shoulders, and smiled back. The way she looked at him—it was what anyone would call “the look of love.”

After a few rounds of the family game, everyone got up and moved to the large living room, ready to open the first gifts with the children, all of them returning to a childlike state themselves.

The girl had ended up in an armchair near the tree, with one of Paul’s older brother’s sons on her lap, giving her a perfect view of the whole group.

The girls tore through wrapping paper, revealing dolls and dresses with tulle, smothering their relatives in kisses and tying ribbons around their wrists, pretending they were at a ball.

On the other side, the boys, more focused on messing with Paul and Ralf’s hair, patiently awaited their turn to do the same, while the boys’ father tried to figure out where Margit had hidden the gifts.

“Go and set the table for Santa,” Margit said with a smile, gesturing for the kids to grab the milk and cookies from the kitchen island.

“Come with us!” A dozen excited, slightly sleepy children grabbed the girl’s hands, making her wrinkle her nose in amusement as they led her to the kitchen island, where the older kids grabbed the bowls.

Paul, sitting on the couch with Anna resting her head on his chest, watched her from a distance.

Just as he always did.

He observed the way she moved, telling stories to the children, lifting them up to set the table where they couldn’t reach, giving them high-fives that made their tiny hands disappear in hers.

She was full of nostalgia—that was something he had learned.

And seeing her like this made him so happy that he couldn’t even express it, warmth spreading through his chest and his lips curving into a soft smile.

“Why do I feel like if I ever brought a girl home, you wouldn’t love her as much as you love her?” joked Ralf, placing his hands on their mother’s shoulders.

“We love everyone the same,” she said, stroking one of her son’s hands.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you enjoy someone’s company as much as hers,” Ralf continued.

“She’s a good girl, she is,” nodded the father of the Arons, making them smile as she returned to the room with a child in her arms and the others following behind.

She looked at everyone, letting them know the table was ready for Santa Claus, and then softly rubbed the back of one of Paul’s little cousins, who was just moments away from falling asleep.

The mothers took their children to bed, changing them into pajamas with little reindeer on them and making sure they were sound asleep before returning.

“Who’s in charge of Santa tonight?” asked Anna, stretching her arms as she got up from the couch.

“Paul,” said Margit, patting his shoulder as he stood.

“Yes!” whispered the Estonian.

Christmas Eve was the one night, besides the kids, where he had no desire to sleep at all, and staying up late to put Santa’s presents under the tree and do something special made him genuinely happy.

“Goodnight then, and Merry Christmas,” said the middle Aron sibling, giving everyone a kiss on the cheek.

“You’re staying up with me, you know,” Paul said to the girl as he approached her, a grin on his face, arms crossed as he looked down from his height of six feet.

“Why did I already know that?” she laughed, tying her hair back again as the rest headed to their respective bedrooms, leaving only Alpine’s reserve driver to follow her into her room.

They changed into pajamas and crawled under the covers, finally bringing out the gifts they had hidden in plain sight.

In the chaos of earlier gift-giving, no one had noticed that the two of them hadn’t exchanged anything, so now they found themselves doing so in the intimacy of her dimly lit room.

“Do we open them now or later?”

“We’ve got hours before we have to set the gifts, so now works,” Paul shrugged, trying to hide how excited he was to give her his present. He couldn’t bear to wait any longer.

The driver handed her the box he held in his hands, scratching the back of his neck with the other as he watched her begin to unwrap it.

Behind him, one of the house’s large windows opened onto the illuminated porch and gave a small glimpse of the darkness that usually gave way to the forest.

The Christmas lights, a warm white, framed the window and cast a soft glow inside the room, highlighting her silhouette.

He, too, was opening his gift, wearing a loose white shirt with the Grinch on it, his curls lightly tickling his forehead as he pressed his lips together and carefully untied the bow.

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” she said.

“I thought we were well past that kind of politeness.”

“Oh, I hate you,” she laughed, adjusting her glasses on her face.

And then she saw it. A certificate.

“I can’t read anything,” she said, turning her back to him to catch the light from the lamp on his side of the bed.

Paul took the opportunity to wrap his hands around her waist, pulling her to sit between his legs.

“The star with the following coordinates was renamed on 12/08 by Paul with the name ____.”

She read the inscription beneath the photo of a stunning star against a deep blue background, running her fingers over the thick paper of the certificate.

He had named a star after her.

And that was the most beautiful gift, the most heartfelt declaration anyone could have given her.

“I knew you’d make me cry,” she said, turning to face him.

“Don’t, or Santa won’t stop by,” he teased, wiping her eyes with his thumbs before pressing a playful kiss to her nose.

She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close to her chest as though he weren’t twice her size.

And he loved it when she hugged him like that, making him feel so warm and protected—something no one but his family had ever managed to do.

Maybe that’s exactly why she was there that night, celebrating with them, closer to him than people he’d known since he was a child.

“And, by the way, your gifts are beautiful too,” he said, running his hands gently along her spine.

They talked about presents again hours later, lying on the mattress and chatting about anything and everything, just like they always did, trying not to laugh too loudly at the silly memes on their phones.

Their hair sprawled across the pillows, the blankets keeping them warm, the scent of the room was one they both associated with rest days, holidays, and happiness.

It was that soft, cozy smell—a mix of fabric softener, love, affection, and genuine feelings.

Whenever a video was especially funny, he’d wrap his arms around her, trapping her between his biceps to muffle her laughter while trying not to burst out laughing himself.

And before they knew it, the hour of Santa Claus arrived. While he scoured the house for the gifts his mom had hidden somewhere, muttering in Estonian, she grabbed some powdered sugar and made boot prints on the parquet floor.

“There’s one for you and me, too,” said the Estonian, balancing five or six boxes stacked in his arms as he walked without looking where he stepped.

“Watch your feet, idiot,” she laughed, fixing one of the Santa footprints he’d accidentally smudged.

“I’m carrying my body weight in presents, so shut it,” he replied, starting to arrange the gifts neatly under the glowing tree so the kids could easily find them in the morning before breakfast.

“Footsteps done.”

“Santa has to eat the cookies.”

“There’s a ton of them!” she complained.

“You should’ve taught the kids better,” he shrugged, stacking the gifts carefully.

A little while later, Paul joined her at the kitchen counter, biting into the carrot meant for the reindeer.

“Oh, I forgot you’re the healthy one.”

“As if you don’t like the fit version of me.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Ah! Got you. You said yes,” Paul grinned, winking as he washed down the carrot with some milk.

“Shut up, you’ll wake the kids!” she laughed, smacking his chest as she nibbled on a cookie.

“I could get used to this,” he murmured.

And after finishing the feast the kids had prepared for Santa, they walked past the Christmas tree, smiles on their faces and exhaustion finally setting in.

“You’re ruining all the footsteps,” she scolded, noticing that with every step, the driver’s foot came dangerously close to her creations.

He looked down, realizing how close he was, and in his attempt to avoid them, he lost his balance.

But she was there, placing her hands on his hips and helping steady him, even as she herself wobbled uncertainly.

And they laughed.

They laughed.

With powdered sugar on the floor, the taste of cookies still on their lips, and Christmas officially arrived, he cupped her face in his hands, brushing her cheeks gently.

And in the window, they were now reflected too.

Looking at each other with the eyes of love, as the lights illuminated them.

And outside, snow had begun to fall.

~ been working on this one for a few days and if I might say so, it's really worth it. I'm kinda feeding myself my paul obsession, but hey, I didn't find him under my tree so I might as well gift him to you💫

#f2 #f1 #motorsports #prema racing #formula racing #f3 #writing #paul aron #hitech #alpine #ralf aron #paul aron x reader #ralf aron x reader #anna aron #christmas #christmas eve

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castdust · 3 days ago

Text

heaven’s masquerade.

pairing : hanni pham x reader

about : An angel in disguise falls for a mortal, but their forbidden love risks exposing her true nature and defying divine law.

genre : angst

a/n : ‘cause i’ve been missing nj, here’s a hanni story! |

The sky was a bruised shade of twilight, neither day nor night, as Hanni descended. She cloaked herself in human skin, her wings folded into nothingness, her celestial glow dimmed to the flicker of an ordinary woman. She had watched humans for centuries from her perch in the heavens, curious about their flawed beauty and their ability to love so fiercely despite their fragility.

Hanni had come to Earth before but never lingered. This time was different. The pull was sharper, as if the universe whispered a secret meant for her ears alone.

She had to know.

The city buzzed with life as Hanni walked its streets. Her senses were dulled, muted by her disguise, but she could still feel the pulse of humanity — the laughter, the pain, the yearning. Her journey led her to a small bookstore tucked into a forgotten corner of the world, its sign barely legible under the weight of time.

That’s where she saw her.

Y/N.

Her dark curls framed a face etched with quiet sorrow, but her smile — that smile — was warm enough to crack open the coldest star. She stood behind the counter, flipping through a dog-eared book, humming a melody that Hanni couldn’t place.

The angel didn’t understand the sensation blooming in her chest. It was foreign, strange. A rope pulling her closer, demanding she stay.

“Hi,” Hanni said, her voice soft and uncertain.

Y/N looked up, startled, then smiled. “Hi. Can I help you?”

“I… I’m just looking,” Hanni replied, though she wasn’t sure what she was looking for anymore.

Y/N tilted her head, studying her. “Well, let me know if you need anything.”

Hanni nodded, wandering the aisles, but her gaze kept returning to Y/N. She didn’t know what possessed her, but she found herself at the counter again, holding a random book.

“Good choice,” Y/N said, though Hanni doubted she even looked at the title.

“Do you always read when it’s quiet?” Hanni asked.

Y/N chuckled, a sound like sunlight breaking through clouds. “Always. Books don’t leave, you know? They stay. People don’t.”

Hanni frowned. “That sounds lonely.”

“It is,” Y/N admitted, her smile faltering.

Hanni wanted to say something, anything, but what could she, a being from another realm, possibly offer? Still, she found herself returning to the bookstore every day.

Y/N began expecting her.

“You’re a mystery, Hanni,” she said one afternoon, handing her a cup of coffee.

“Am I?”

“You talk like someone who’s lived a thousand lives, but there’s this… sadness about you.”

Hanni looked away. “And you? You talk like someone who’s given up on happiness.”

The words hung between them, heavy and raw.

Y/N shrugged, looking out the window. “Maybe I have.”

“What happened?”

Y/N hesitated, then sighed. “Someone I loved left. And I’ve been trying to fill the space they left behind, but nothing fits.”

Hanni’s heart ached in a way she didn’t think possible. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Y/! turned to her, eyes searching. “And you? What’s your story, Hanni?”

“I don’t have one,” Hanni said, too quickly. “Not yet.”

Their conversations grew deeper, their silences more comfortable. Hanni found herself laughing with Y/N, her celestial burdens feeling lighter. And Y/N? Y/N began to smile without the shadow of pain behind it.

One evening, under the glow of streetlights, Y/N reached for Hanni’s hand.

“Stay,” Y/N whispered.

“I’m here,” Hanni replied, though she knew it wasn’t entirely true.

Months passed. Hanni knew she was breaking rules. Angels weren’t meant to love mortals. They were watchers, guides, not participants. But every time she tried to leave, the thought of Y/N’s laughter, her touch, her soul, pulled her back.

“I think I’m falling in love with you,” Y/N said one night, her voice trembling with vulnerability.

Hanni froze, her disguise feeling too tight, too fragile. “You don’t know me,” she said.

“I know enough,” Y/N countered. “You’re kind, thoughtful, and you’ve made me feel alive again.”

“You deserve someone who can stay,” Hanni said, tears threatening to spill.

“You’re staying,” Y/N said firmly, gripping Hanni’s hand. “Aren’t you?”

Hanni couldn’t answer.

The day Hanni had been dreading came too soon. She stood at the edge of Y/N’s bed, watching her sleep, her heart breaking. She knew she couldn’t stay. If she did, she would lose her grace, her wings, and she couldn’t bear the thought of Y/N discovering her truth.

But leaving? That felt impossible too.

As dawn broke, Y/N stirred, her eyes fluttering open.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Hanni’s breath hitched. “I have to.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not what you think I am.”

Y/N sat up, confusion and pain etched on her face. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m not human, Y/N,” Hanni said, her voice cracking. “I’m… I’m an angel. I came here to understand humanity, not to fall in love. But I did. I fell for you.”

Y/N stared at her, disbelief and betrayal warring in her eyes. “You’re joking.”

Hanni stepped back, letting her disguise falter. Her wings unfolded, faint and shimmering in the dim light.

Y/N gasped, tears spilling down her cheeks. “This… this can’t be real.”

“I’m sorry,” Hanni whispered. “I never meant to hurt you.”

“Then don’t leave,” Y/N pleaded, her voice breaking. “Stay. Be with me.”

“If I stay, I’ll lose everything I am,” Hanni said, her own tears falling freely now. “But if I leave, I’ll lose you.”

“Isn’t love worth that?” Y/N asked, desperation in her voice.

Hanni closed her eyes, every fiber of her being screaming to stay. But when she opened them, she knew what she had to do.

“I love you, Y/N,” she said, her voice trembling. “But I can’t stay.”

Y/N sobbed, reaching for her, but Hanni was already fading, her wings wrapping around her like a shroud.

And then she was gone.

Y/N returned to the bookstore every day, hoping, praying that Hanni would come back. The ache in her chest was unbearable, a constant reminder of what she had lost.

But Hanni didn’t return.

Not in the way Y/N hoped.

Instead, she saw her in the sunsets, in the gentle rustling of leaves, in the quiet moments when the world seemed to hold its breath.

And Y/N knew, deep down, that Hanni was still watching over her.

She always would be.

#hanni pham #newjeans hanni #hanni pham x reader #x reader #newjeans #pham hanni #newjeans x reader #newjeans imagine #hanni x reader

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katerinaaqu · 1 day ago

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Little question. I don't know if you've already been asked that before but what's your opinion on Penelope and her role in the Odyssey ?

I just hate it when people say she's boring or completely passive to the plot, or just a damsel for Odysseus. She's relevant in her own way too ! She ruled Ithaca in his absence, held off and schemed against suitors, all in respecting the ancient sacred laws. She's strong in her own subtle way.

Nope I haven't and I think it was about time too! Hahahaha! But even if I was, I am not asked by you so I would answer anyways! ^_^

To put it simply I find it straight out ridiculous whenever someone calls her that and whoever said that probably hasn't read the Odyssey or has read the most terrible translation to history of translation! Hahaha! Because there is nothing passive about Penelope's role in Ithaca. Even if on first sight looks like it, in reality it isn't if one thinks about it. Even her own role at the beginning of the Odyssey is either active or causing actions. To name a few:

The suitors waited for HER to choose one of them! Regardless of the way someone sees it and regardless of how they called for Telemachus to "send her to her father", they were sitting there waiting for HER to decide whom she should marry. It was obvious who was the one in charge in many ways.

Penelope calls for the challenge herself. Not only does she decide the way she would choose her future husband but also her wish was respected no matter how bizzare it was heard to their ears

She demands her own wedding gifts. She sends the suitors by manipulation to fetch her "wedding gifts" so that they will pay everything they ate back. And the suitors follow that. No matter what someone says it was Penelope the one to decide and call for it.

She confronts Antinous directly. She calls him a madman and a coward. She brings him before his responsibilities and she is not afraid to speak her mind.

She talks back to her husband. She keeps her posture till the recognition SHE decides is done. Odysseus also respects her wishes. He doesn't force his way on her when she says he should "sleep outside". Penelope obviously has authority on him the same way he has on her through her love for him and their mutual respect.

Odysseus expresses his admiration for Penelope many times over hearing her speak up and play everyone like a lyre to her bidding. He also trusts her with his story and he even comments on her mind knowing he can trust his wife with that.

Penelope is being patronized by goddess Athena herself. She is a goddess of action and activity (either war or craftsmanship as well as wit). Penelope qualifies to have her support even if Athena is mostly associated with heroes of mythology. The few exceptions of women she takes over is obvious that their qualities are as powerful as she herself is.

However the most obvious miss that people have is that they forget how Penelope was not just a queen. She was also regent! She was left in charge of the kingdom by Odysseus till her son was of age to rule!

My wife, it is not certain that all the well-armed Achaeans will return unharmed from Troy for it is said that the Trojans are strong fighters both in spear and at the drawing of the bow, they are excellent riders of swift horses and these are things that quickly will determine the outcome of any war. If a god does not return me home and I get lost at Troy, I leave everything to you to attend to and my mother and father in my place while I am away. And when our son grows a beard you can remarry if you want and leave back to your own house

(Translation by me)

Odysseus clearly leaves Penelope in charge of Ithaca in his place!

I am surprised how many people who ellegedly support "strong female characters" feel like Penelope is too passive and that she des nothing at all and is just sitting there. SHE LITERALLY RULED ITHACA by herself while raising her son AND potentially taking care of her in-laws given how Laertes at the end was emotionally unavailable and Anticlea was depressed and died or killed herself. And on top of that she had to take care of the suitors for almost 4 full years while being constantly pressured.

What a woman!

#katerinaaqu answers #odyssey #the odyssey #tagamemnon #greek mythology #homeric poems #penelope #odypen #odysseus and penelope #ithaca #penelope of ithaca #penelope of sparta #penelope odyssey

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missbuckyhellfire · 2 days ago

Text

Cat And Mouse :Emperor Geta (1/?)

Warnings: MANIPULATION (Both ways), The Emperor twins being themselves, Smut, NSFW content, heavy dub/con , Forceful fingering, Flirting, Unwanted advances, some language, heavy drinking, Oral, humping, hair pulling, Long piece (10,000 words!). Message me if I missed anything, Minors Be Gone!

Translations:

Mia Combina: My beloved

Mel: Honey

Hello Everyone! I know I had said it was going to be a One-shot and this is a long piece. However, I feel that it could be completed as a mini series or maybe with a second part. This piece could be a standalone as well, but I feel that it may be left too open ended for some. Also, I love their dynamic so I am wanting to write more. I will post a poll below for people to vote. If the deadline passes, comments in the piece would be appreciated. Miss.BuckyHellfire

The great General of Rome has returned to “celebrate” his victories with the city. Or at least that’s how the twin emperors seen it. The reality was much more concerning for the brothers.

For the past few months, a rider with a black horse would rob from the rich and give their spoils of their crimes to the poor. The citizens of Rome supported the rider and would refuse to say anything about them to the officials or even the emperors. In which unfortunately would cost them their lives. They were on their wits end as they wanted to end this once and for all.

The real reason, the one that the brothers wanted to keep to themselves was that they wanted the General to hunt this thief down and bring them to a prison cell where the emperors would take care of them personally.

However, the night before, the rider tried to strike their own home in Palatine Hill. Unfortunately, Emperor Geta was awake and clothed, unlike his brother in a pile of concubines. He seen the figure rush to the door and viewed how the cloaked rider would take down each of his guards with such grace.

The rider was a trained swordsman. This caused great fear in Geta as he panicked and grabbed his own blade by his night stand. He was going to fight them to save his gold. He wasn’t just going to be robbed like the rest of the people before him.

However, by the time he arrived, the rider was gone, only with a trail of blood to take him to General Acacius’s home. Geta, only in a robe, knew what he had to do.

When the General had arrived to greet the emperors the next morning, Geta had personally invited him and his entire family to join for a great feast at Palatine Hill. He wanted to get answers and he knew he was slowly closing in on his prey.

************************************************************************

“Brother what are you looking at?”

“Nothing Carcalla”

That was a lie. The taller emperor had glanced around the room as he sipped from his wine glass. Throughout the crowd of his concubines, soldiers, nobles, and servants, he couldn’t help but keep his eyes on her. The young woman that was with General Acacius. No matter how much he tried to wonder his eyes around, he couldn’t help but make eye contact with her over and over again.repeatedly.

A young woman, with dark hair and fair skin. Gold eyeliner was pained on her eyelids that covered her warm but light brown eyes. Her gold lips formed into a smile as she talked to a few guests eager to get a few moments of her time. The people of Rome were like servants at her feet, wanting to talk to her and listen to her sweet voice. Without saying another word, Geta separated himself from his brother and walked over to the growing crowd . The crowd had separated and allowed Geta to pass through to meet with the woman. The general was less than pleased as he placed his arms around her. Geta immediately had chuckled to himself before he spoke.

“Guess I can see why your father hid you, so you wouldn’t get touched as his finest treasure.” He took her hand and kissed it gently. The general’s eyes never left his. “Where’s your wife General?”

“This is my daughter Sabina”. Sabina, this is Emperor Geta.” The general forced a small smile and tried to hide a growl as he heard Geta repeat his daughters name to himself. “She has fallen ill and unable to come today and she sends her regards.”

The emperor took in Sabina’s stola: a vibrant blue with gold accents. Her dark hair was pulled up wearing golden hoops. He seen nothing but innocence in her warm but light brown eyes. He glanced down to her lips as they trembled, intimated by his presence. He took in the oils she wore, they were sweet, the right amount of sweetness that could lead any man to start a war. He did find it odd that the general’s wife wasn’t able to come, but didn’t want to pry just yet, not when he had the opportunity to talk to the general’s daughter.

“Come Sabina, sit with me” Geta had ushered her to go. The general paused and refused to move his hands. He had known Geta long enough that this would just be a simple game for him. He would use his daughter to get closer to him and gods knows what. He was his general already what else would he want from him.

He smirked at the general “you don’t trust me with your greatest gem? I promise to take care of her general.” He pushed the general’s hands off of Sabina and took her to sit down with him.

Sabina’s first instinct was to sit by one of his other concubines out of respect. Her father’s grand speech echoed throughout her head as she had turned around and sat next to a barely clothed concubine. Her father was firm, but kind.

“Before we go in, I want you to know that the Emperors are very persuasive and manipulative they will want to find everything out about you. They are like the gods themselves, but much worse. Promise me, if your called, you keep your mouth shut, keep your secret.”

“I’ll try my best.”

After a few moments, Geta turned to her then shook his head “This wont do.”

“What wont Emperor?” Sabina wasn’t sure what she was talking about. He was not too keen about whatever it was due to his narrowing of his eyebrows. Geta didn’t think a gem like her should be with a bunch of other slaves and toys.

“Come sit with me here.” Geta had patted on his leg. His brother took immediate notice of his actions and leant over to his brother.

“Brother, you can’t be serious”

“Deadly, brother, deadly. Come on Sabina” He patted on his leg again. Not thinking she had much of a choice, she had plopped on his lap and he smirked. He took in her scent again as he chuckled. Now all eyes were on the Emperor, including the General who started to feel a sense of guilt. The concubine had passed a tray of grapes and cheeses to Sabina. She had looked at them for a second taking in the sweet smell of the grapes and cheeses. It was a treat to get this food when it came around.

“Don’t be shy mel, feed me.” Geta, like a snake, wrapped his arms around her as she grabbed the plate and pricked a grape from the platter. His brown eyes watched her as she waited for him to open his mouth. He did nothing of the sort and only mumbled a “tease me”. She had placed the grape on his lips and began to graze the fruit around his lips until he would open his mouth and she plopped it in. He chewed it and swallowed. “give me another Sabina.”

She listened, and gave him each grape until the very last one on a frail branch. He took the small grape into his hands and grazed it against her lips and watched them quiver a bit.

"Open up"

Sabina opened her mouth and he plopped it inside. Snickering, he placed his hands around her neck gently so he could feel her swallow the fruit. She swallowed gently, but Geta found it absolutely fascinating feeling her throat muscles move.

He turned and grabbed his glass of red wine, only half full now. He snickered and pressed the glass against her lips as his grin kept getting wider.

She parted her lips again as he let go of her neck, but refused to let his eyes off of it. He was going to start asking questions, eventually.

He gently tipped the glass so the sweet fluid would enter her mouth. Sabina took every last drop in the cup, with the feeling of the emperors hands in her hair. His hands were soft and gentle, only when he wanted them to be.

Sabina, the fluid was so sweet and intoxicating. She never had a fluid so tasty in her life. She wanted more until it was gone, which had left her with a bit of guilt and curiosity on what the emperor would do next. Geta shook his head. He was impressed how fast it went down, but now he has an idea.

************************************************************************

4 empty glasses were by the emperors chair. None were drunk by the emperor. Sabina thought she could handle a few, but the wine was rather intoxicating. She looked messed up, her hair was messy and her stola's sleeve was loosely over her shoulder as she would let out soft giggles from the affects of the wine. In return Geta would laugh in return. Carcalla watched the entire scene happening, but wasn't too sure what his brother's intentions were with the Generals daughter. Geta did have a collection of concubines to please him but Sabina seems to take a different effect on him.

Geta took in the sight of Sabina, vulnerable and possibly with a loosened tongue. If she wasn't a general's daughter, he would have offered her to be a concubine. Yet, he needed answers.

"So Sabina" he snaked his arms around her tightly, close enough for her to smell his body. "I'm sure your familiar with the rider that's been stealing in Rome."

Sabina closes her eyes for a moment then opens them to meet the eyes of her father from the other end of the room. Panicked, he mouths the words "lie".

She turns to the emperors dark intimidating eyes as he watched every feature of her, seeing if there's something that could be read from her.

"Yes Emperor, I heard tales of the rider who killed some of the emperors men and tried to steal from them. They steal from the rich and give to the poor, what of them?" Sabina looked down as Geta's lips twitched a bit from their response.

The palace didn't give message to the people about the supposed break in. So she knew someone who would do such a thing and would tell her. He began to rub her back a bit and tried to become more soft in his voice.

“Yes, it’s a tragedy, I ran out of my house as soon as I heard the commotion. I was ready to swing my blade at him.” Geta leant to her ear and moved his hands to her shoulders in hopes to ease some sort of confession out of her. Yet before she could speak, the general came to Geta, who was rather distracted.

“ I wish to bring my daughter Sabina home and I will meet you at nightfall to discuss the matters of the thief” His eyes glanced at the glasses and his daughter, who seemed to be feeling the affects of the wine.

Geta paused for a moment and glanced at Sabina. He didn’t want to let her go just yet. “Nonsense, I wish to have her as a guest for a couple nights in the finest suite of my palace. Your wife and yourself are invited as well, but I may be rather distracted by your daughter.”

“I really don’t think that’s a good idea. People will talk and…”

“Does it look like I care, I am a emperor of Rome, you listen to me, my wish wasn’t a request” Geta shut him off as Carcalla let out a soft chuckle in response . The general nodded and muttered “ My wife is ill so it will be just you and my daughter. I will visit to discuss the matter you wish to talk to me about.”

The emperor clapped his hands together “Perfect! You don’t need to worry about us at all I will take good care of her.”

************************************************************************

To Sabina, this was only part of the job.

First was to lure him in by making herself seem like the perfect servant to the elder brother. He seemed like the more sane, more power hungry and calmer one. He was the logical one in the two but of course was still a threat.

She regretted letting it slip about her past endeavors at Palatine Hill. She knew that she shouldn’t have spoken out about it and has put her family in danger.

Regardless, Geta had ushered the guests out quickly after exchanging some private matters with her father. No surprise that Sabina assumed he was asking him to take the legendary thief down. Little does he know that the general knows of his daughters adventures and wouldn’t dream of ending it by turning her in. He was the one who supports her anyways.

Carcalla had turned to her during the exchange of words and chuckled. “Don’t get too attached to this lifestyle your going to go back home as soon as Geta is finished with you”

“I am here to serve the emperor and will return home when he sees fit.” It was such a kiss ass attitude but she needed to get on both of their good side if she was to go venturing in the palace on her own.

“Such a fuckin toy, you will fit right in during your stay” The younger emperor shook his head.

Sabina tilted her head at him, toying with him back. “Toy? I don’t understand, my father spoke very rarely on those subject matters.”

Carcalla stood up from the throne and glued his blue eyes with her brown ones. “Don’t toy with me girl. I know your type, your invitation to join our family will be declined soon enough. My brother will come to his senses, you may be nothing more than a concubine to him.” He spat at her.

She hid the smile with a frown and a nod of the head. “ I can promise you that I’m not who you thought I am.” She was so close, she just needed to play along a bit longer and the jewels will be hers.

“We will see about that.” He muttered as he looked down to his feet as Geta returned and waved the general off. Sabina’s father gave one last look to her before he left through the doors. Sabina stood up and Geta wrapped his arms around her, hugging her from behind, taking in her scent from her hair.

“I’m going to show our guest their room for the next few days. You are welcome to join us.” Geta’s tone wasn’t exactly welcoming, it didn’t sound like he wanted to have his younger brother to join them. Carcalla had mumbled a “No.” before Geta had took a step back and took Sabina’s hand and lead her down the hall.

************************************************************************

Sabina admired the room Geta had granted her by the doorway with him by her side. He watched her intently as she took in the sight of her room.

He kept stating he knew it wasn’t much, but Sabina knew that it was a lie. He knew this was the nicest room that she was ever given. She was admiring the silky bedsheets and lovely balcony with the perfect view of the sunset. The sweet smells of lemon oils had flared the room as well.

However, her eyes grew large at the bucket of swords that were placed in her chambers. Geta meant to have those removed as he didn’t think it was right for a lady to be so close to blades, as it may hurt her. Geta’s eyebrows furrowed as she was walking towards the barrel and picked up a silver blade with fine rubies engraved on them. She knew she was going to take this blade home when this is all over. Geta, shocked and walked over to her and took her hand with the blade on it.

“Do you think this is lady like to be handling blades like this?” Geta tilted his head, his eyes expressing concern, but demanding she drop the blade.

“My father is the general, he taught me how to use blades.” Sabina rolls her eyes. “I can handle myself.”

Geta blinks twice. “ I don’t blame your father for training you to use blades, but your under my wing now. I am sure that your father would appreciate you being of sound mind here.” He snaps his fingers and two guards take the blades away, while Geta yanks the blade from her hand. Before the last blade leaves, he takes one : a gold blade with diamonds engraved into it. He pauses for a moment then sighs, seeing the shock in Sabina’s eyes.

“If you are to find a husband in Rome, you will need to learn to submit. I am sure that your father taught you that.” Geta leans down to her ear in a whisper. He places the sharp weapon on her shoulder as the blades leaves a small cut on her. She doesn’t move as she stays firm in place. “Remember your place, and to not keep secrets from your emperors.”

Sabina nods in the comment as he moves the blade closer to her neck. He tilts his head, watching her throat bob in response. His lips part as though he is going to say something, but he says nothing. He only admires her beauty in the moment.

“So tell me, what do you really know about this thief? You seem to know more than you lead on.” His eyes moves to her light brown eyes checking for any sense of vulnerability or weakness or any hint of the thief’s identity. To him, a woman knowing how to fight well was odd, she was the only swords woman that he known.

Sabina, trying to hide her identity looks into his eyes and gets lost for a second. Why did he look so good but done the wrong things? She had to make up some sort of story fast or else Geta’s kindness may not last long. “ I met him a few months ago.”

The blade was pushed harder against her neck. “Elaborate.” His voice turned into a growl.

“I, uh- met him by a cart by the Colosseum. He was talking about a recent adventure to the locals and I decided to listen in to hear more about it. He and I didn’t really talk about things but he was ambitious.”

His gaze softened a bit “Did you see a glimpse of his face?”

“No, he was wearing a cloak.”

Silence swallowed the room for a second then Geta dropped the blade to the ground. He examined Sabina’s face, he only seen fear in it. However, he thought it was his approach to it. Something told him that there was more to be shared about this but he decided to not pry for now. The emperor admired her for a moment before grabbing her chin. Both of their eyes were glued onto each other for a moment. Brown eyes looking upon to brown eyes. One pair firm with determination to keep her secret while the other pair wanted to expose it.

“Your welcome to stay here for as long as you need to.” He muttered as he placed his soft lips onto her own. He paused for a moment, taking in the taste of her lips. Sabina took in the taste of wine on his lips as well. Geta mumbled something about taking her for a feast later and flashed a smile at her before leaving.

Sabina noticed that Geta forgot to bring the blade with him. However, she was in shock with the emperors actions and determination to figure out her secret. If the kiss was part of the plan or not, she doesn’t care. But she can admit he was a good kisser.

Venus, she needs help.

************************************************************************

Geta met with his brother immediately afterwords to share information about his encounter with Sabina and the information about the thief that they are trying to hunt down.

They were both in Carcalla’s chambers alone as he was explaining his suspicions on Sabina.

“I think there’s more to what she is saying. She is a swordswoman after all, only the insane women are trained with a blade.” Carcalla mumbled.

“Remember brother her father is the general, he may have wanted to keep her safe. Eve though one day she will likely be married off.” Geta paused for a moment trying to understand the general’s logic. “Do we know who Sabina’s mother was? “

Carcalla shrugged. “Words go around that he fucked a goddess when he was a young soldier. Would make sense for her beauty, but I think it may be a common whore after too much drinking.”

Geta took in Carcalla’s words in for a moment. How the people would gravel at their feet for Sabina. Her kind smile and skills in swordsmanship. Her overall alluring appearance and personality. It would make sense, but just this alone wouldn’t be enough proof. He knew that he wanted her, even though she does appear stubborn in her own ways.

“How would you feel a alignment with the general brother.” Geta looked at his wine glass for a moment then looked back at him.

Carcalla laughed at him. “You can’t be serious about this brother; I am not going to marry that woman!”

“No, you don’t have to, because I want to.” Geta looked at one of his guards. “Send word out in the morning for the audience of the general.”

“You were suspicious about them now you want to marry the girl? I don’t understand you brother.”

“No,no. She is beautiful and will give me lovely children yes. But it will keep him close until she finally speaks the truth. Maybe more seduction is needed tonight.”

Carcalla nods with the plan then looks away with a wide grin across his face. “Brilliant”

************************************************************************

Sabina was on the ground praying to the gods for the night that was about to come. She needed to make sure that she would be able to get enough gold to feed the temple that was slowly needing more and more donations. Sure nobles and the emperors would visit but a lot of them would provide with other forms of loyalty to this goddess within their bedrooms.

“Venus, mother, please help me with this task. I am doing this for the people of Rome and to keep areas of worship open. I am sure you would rather have a beautiful garden in your name mother rather than the other offerings that are often given to you.” Sabina was referring to the emperors and their concubines. Word has went around that the brothers were loyal followers of Venus, but yet made any approach to visit her temple.

There was no response. As always. She always figured this out. Maybe her father was insane that he told her that he slept with Venus that one night under the evening stars. She didn’t say anything to him until the day Sabina was born then just left her on his doorstep. The general whenever he was asked would say it was from a one night stand and her mother is dead.

However, as time went on, she began to grow in beauty. This is something that was never explicitly addressed but people would come to see her and her generosity. When the twin brothers took over Rome, she felt the need to do more. She wanted to do whatever was needed to ensure that the people of Rome would survive their ruthlessness. So she decided to become a thief of the night and take from the rich to give to the poor, so she could ensure their own wellbeing each night. This eventually went to providing generous donations to the churches as well. Whoever encountered her promised to keep her secret.

She sighed then glanced at the attire that was given to her for the evening diner. She should have known it was going to be a really revealing stola. This one was a red one with a wide enough opening on the top to expose her larger breasts. She sighed heavily then noticed that there were no forms of jewelry to hide her breasts.

So this is what Geta wants.

Sabina sighs. Geta was an attractive man no doubt about it, but she has never been touched by anyone before. From what she seen and heard the entire process looks painful and frankly demeaning to women. She never seen the point of doing it. She honestly planned to keep it until someone worth her while would marry her, or at least offer marriage.

Plus, to Sabina, he seemed demanding and controlling and would likely give her limited rights within the palace. However, she wasn’t going to let Geta see her body that easily. She found some of the makeup provided to her and found gold powder. She painted her nipples with that color in hopes to cover them up enough. She touched up for gold makeup look then waited for the emperors to call her for dinner.

************************************************************************

She smiled throughout the entire meal. She was rather thankful that she wasn’t close enough for Geta to see her sweat across her body. There were the finest foods available in Rome for her to eat from breads, wines to cheeses.

During the entire meal, Geta was watching her intently and so was his brother. All three of them were silent during their dinner in the gardens until Geta finally spoke.

“Sabina that dress compliments you, but didn’t expect you to make it modest.”

“I did so we could focus on the food and not other matters.” Sabina slipped out which gave two disapproved looks back.

“You don’t need to cover up for me Sabina.” Geta states. His tension turned into a smile and he stood up from his chair and approached her hoping to get a better view of her. He was now inches away from her as he took her hand and kissed it firmly. “You are to be my wife as the gods wish.”

Sabina blinked twice. She was not expecting this, she honestly thought he just would want to fuck her and kick her out, like Carcalla said. She glanced at the brother who only exchanged her with a smug grin, taking pleasure in her reaction.

“Wife, my emperor, I didn’t think it would happen. What would the people of Rome think of this? You are marrying the General’s daughter.”

“Would be more ideal than you think Sabina. You are loved by the people. My brother and I have eyes, we aren’t as loved as much. With you, you will help us get Rome’s support. You can help us see what the people of Rome need while we keep our power.” Geta suggested. Sabina believed everything until the last part about helping the people, Sabina knew that they wouldn’t do that.

“Sure helping the people, that means losing some of your wealth.” She spat. As soon as those last words came out of her mouth, Geta’s hands wrapped around her throat not tight, but as a warning to her.

“This offer is too good to refuse. You will help us. The gods have made it so.”Geta warned under his breath. “Regardless of what you say, you will be my wife.”

Sabina had to think for a moment. Marriage would mean putting up with Geta for a bit until someone decides to kill him and his brother. Which at the pace they are going wont be for much longer. And it would also mean unlimited gold to smuggle to people in need. Which would help Rome.

“Regardless, I guess I have to accept.”

Geta release her and smiled. “Excellent, now if you follow me I will show you where you will be staying.”

“I thought I was staying in the guest room” Sabina muttered.

“Oh no, your staying with me now.” That caused a ocean of anxiety flood her stomach. She was about to be completely alone with the emperor in his chambers.

************************************************************************

The emperor opened the door to his chambers. He was quiet for a moment and allowed Sabina to take in the room. It was a rather lovely room, more expensive than the guest room that she was in earlier. With the silk, there was fur pillows and a thick blanket on top. His wardrobe was open and shown how lovely it was with the fine fabrics. His room smelt of oils, wine and cheese. Around them were a ray of windows separated by pillars.

“It’s a lovely room” Sabina finally says.

“It’s ours now.” Geta assured as he gestured Sabina to follow him to the bed to take in the soft blankets. She took them in and sighed at the comfort. He nodded at the guards to be dismissed as the two could talk. His eyes were glued onto her lips. “Tell me, what do you like doing for fun? Besides sword play?”

“Well I do like riding horses, I prefer riding with Luna, my horse.”

“I like riding horses too, what type of horse are they?” Geta sincerely was interested in the horse as it was nice to see that they had common interests. However, he shouldn’t be surprised as she was the generals daughter.

“She’s a black mare, rather sweet and even tempered.” Sabina cut herself off right there. Remembering the legends they say about her and her legendary black horse. She hoped that Geta didn’t catch on. But with the look that she saw in his eyes, she knew that he did.

He was no fool. The black horse, following the mare to the generals home. She was a skilled swords women. His jaw tightened as he tried to hide his suspicions of her. There was only one thing left to do and with no one else around, he can find out for sure.

“Take off your clothes.” Geta stated plainly.

“ I am pure emperor I…” Sabina tried to push it off against his suspicions and tried to change the subject. She didn’t feel ready for this at all but she felt a firm grip on her shoulders.

“Don’t make me repeat again. I want to see all of you!” Geta stated as he tugged on her stola. She jumped a bit before she stepped back to remove the stola. Geta’s eyes were hungry, watching her form be revealed to him. She realised what he was doing and pushed her hair back so her back wound would not be revealed. Yet, she was completely bare in front of him, except for the gold makeup that covered her nipples.

“Turn around.” He instructed. She did as he instructed, and her ass was in view to him. His eyes took her in and admired all of the curves of her body, the moles and scars that were left on her back.

“You have a lot of scars on your moles as well.” He commented. Sabina took a deep breath and had to think fast.

“Everyone trained with a blade have some scars to show their loyalty and determination of the craft emperor.” She responded.

“Fair ,” he grabbed her hair and then he saw it. A fresh blade wound stitched up and reeking of the scent of old blood. He couldn’t get his eyes off it. He literally has his thief in his hands. He pushed her down as he got a small whimper from her he caged her in.

The cat finally caught the mouse.

“Emperor I….”

“IT was you!” Geta spat. “I wanted to deny that a beauty like you could do such a crime to Rome yet here we are!” His hand was one again around his neck. “Explain yourself or I will see to it that your execution is going to be very painful.”

Sabina had to collect her thoughts for a moment. She only had one shot at this and to basically tell her life story to the emperor is no easy feat. Also, she had to persuade him to let her live as well. She didn’t want to bring out her maternal parentage to him but at this point she may not have a choice.

“Why would you do that? The citizens of Rome would revolt. People love me for what I do. I provide to them what they clearly need. You lack the knowledge and ability to understand that your people are starving and dying because of your foolishness. I came in to help them when you and your speakers of Rome are more focused on military warfare. You are also in conflict with with a demigod of Venus and I do not think that you want to anger my father who is beloved by everyone in Rome.” Sabina felt bratty for saying it like that but if she gets killed for it, so be it.

“You have some nerve for saying that.” His grip on her throat tightened.

“You must hear it.”

Silence.

He seen her the way she truly was now. A woman who was looking out for her people and went through great lengths to do it. However, she was his enemy, and nothing will help from being punished for her crimes. “Venus is your mother.” Geta interjected. “The goddess of love, beauty, desire, sex, fertility, prosperity and victory. Should have known.” He placed a faint smile on his lips. “Your mother has yet to grace me with any good thing in my life. Lots of sex, beauty and victory are the only thing your supposed mother has blessed me with. Yet, I want a wife, and you are in a unfortunate situation mia columba, you are going to give me a child if you like it or not.”

The words stung to her as he let go of her neck. He wasn’t going to let her walk from this. Absolutely not. He shouted for the guards to arrest her, which was almost immediately.

************************************************************************

Sabina was alone in a cell, hearing the sounds of shouting and smelling the smoke from the people of Rome rioting outside of her cell. Word went around fast in the city and everyone was there to support her.

Geta was on the upper floor, watching everyone riot for the freedom of the demigoddess. As soon as word came, the general had rushed to his daughter’s aid but was immediately stopped by the emperor who was fuming towards him as well. The general had pleaded for his daughters life, even offering to be charged instead. However, his fury was too intense and he wanted to watch the two suffer.

“Please she’s my daughter, take me instead!”

“No! You should have watched her more closely and now she is going to be punished.” Geta snapped back at him. “To think she was going to be the empress of Rome.”

The general looked at Macrinus, a advisor to the emperors. The look was a simple plea for him to let her go. The advisor nodded and cleared his throat. “You still could still marry her.”

“Repeat?” Geta’s brows furrowed.

“You are not getting a good reputation with Rome. You need someone to provide a good image. Sure she was a thief, but she is loved by the people of Rome. Killing her will only result in your downfall. Perhaps even tonight with your head rolling down the steps of this building. But if you marry her, and make sure she keeps her public appearances, your people will be on their feet. Having a demigoddess as a wife will only bring more power., even though you hate her mother.” He stated and the general hated the proposal, but he didn’t have much choice.

“Gain reputation and use her as a puppet to gain power from Rome.” Geta summarized his grin grew wide. “Bring me to the cell, I wish to speak to her.”

************************************************************************

Sabina was alone in her cell with Geta. She was still nude from earlier and stunk of the odor within the cell. She immediately spat on the floor as Geta chuckled. He slowly walked towards her, watching her tremble. She refused to look at him, she knew this can’t be good.

“Oh my sweet Sabina, the sun to my moon. You will live to see another day.” His hand had cusped her face gently. Brown eyes are now looking into brown watery eyes. “No more tears in this cell you are going home.” His voice was like honey, it drew her in.

She lit up as she heard those words. She thought of her home with her father and his wife. The warm pastures and her horse Luna waiting for her. How she would ride again. “Is my father here to take me home?”

“Why would your father return you home? I, your husband will.” He stated proudly, his hand now going lower down to her neck, feeling her pulse. “We are still to be married.”

“You have forgiven me of my crimes?” She squeaked as he moved his hands lower to one of her breasts. He didn’t grab them, rather let his fingers trace her nipple.

He sighed. “Forgiveness is such as light word, you are to be my wife still, the Emperess of Rome.” His hands lowered to her waist, he pulls her in to feel her body against his. She tried to squirm away he pulled onto her tighter. “Resist my offer and you will see your mother sooner than you think.” It was in a gentle tone, but it was indeed a threat. His hands lowered down her body to her ass. His ringed hand slapped her ass so hard that it was heard a few cells over, followed by Sabina’s high pitch scream.

“Disobedience is punishment and if frequently done, death.” He reached to find her core and inserted a finger inside, grinning when he heard the breathy gasp from Sabina’s lips. Her mouth was open, she was vulnerable now. Geta found her weak point. He held it there for a moment before he began to slowly move it in and out. This only caused her to make more noise.

“Please stop!” She pleaded.

“Please Stop!” Geta mimicked. “No! Please stop stealing! I wouldn’t have patience for you if you had no use to me. But you do and I command you to listen and submit to me.” He moved his pace faster inside of her.

“You have no knowledge on my powers Geta.” She tried to warn but instead became breathless due to the amount of pleasure that Geta was giving her.

“I may not, but I know how to persuade a powerful woman.” He growled in her ears. She had no reaction but to tug on his strawberry blonde hair as he curled his fingers inside of her as she felt a small knot start to form. “By making them feel something.”

Geta’s eyes darkened as he watched her. So vulnerable, so submissive, yet so powerful. She was puddy in his hands if he could prove himself to her. He watched as she climaxed, her world shattered around her. She took heavy breaths and Geta smiled even wider than before. “I think we are going to make a good team.”

Sabina had no choice but to nod, regardless of how good the fingering was. She wanted to go home. For now, she only wanted to get off the peak of pleasure that Geta put her into.

“What’s the matter, never been touched inside before?” Geta cocked a brow.

Sabina was silent as he removed his finger and pressed it against his lips to have a taste. Once her juices had touched his tongue he let out a soft moan. He complimented on the tastes of lemon and sweets. ‘Speak up.”

“No Emperor.” Sabina said. Geta didn’t say anything else before walking out of the cell, waving his guards over to bring her back to the palace.

************************************************************************

Geta and Sabina had a extravagant, very public wedding ceremony the next day. Given with the amount of time they had. Geta wanted to at least make sure that the wedding would meet to the emperors standards. He ensured that there were women serving food, wine and entertainment. He invited all of the highest nobles to the ceremony, including her family. Sure it was a last minute ceremony, but Geta had standards.

Sabina was decorated in makeup that matched Geta’s. Her eyes were darkened with a smoky shadow with a tint of golden eyeliner. Her lips were left bare with a faint lip oil covering them. Her dress was white with golden accents all over it and her hair was pulled up to reveal her neck. This didn’t go without notice that a few tears would shed on her face. She wanted to go home. She didn’t want any of this. However, she was caught and had to face the consequences.

Geta was in a matching white robe and makeup done the same. He only seen this as a duty and a way to serve punishment to the family. He would admit that she was an attractive being, but that was only a bonus of the situation.

The ceremony was very short and brief, the emperor had no choice to. The citizens were protesting outside of the door, trying to set their goddess free. So Geta made sure the ceremony was enough to legally bind them and that was it. He wouldn’t want to loose his head today, he just wanted to have enough proof with Sabina was his wife, his empress.

When vows were exchanged, all Sabina could do was nod. She had nothing else to say. Her eyes kept looking into the sad eyes of her father and his wife. The three of them knew they were in trouble, and this was their punishment. She wondered what her mother thought of all this.

Once all was said and done, Emperor Geta gave Sabina a kiss on the lips. This kiss was more harsh, as though it was sealing the contract that was implemented between the two of them. It didn’t last longer that a few moments before Sabina pushed away. Carcalla, who was the prime witness of the ceremony stood by his brother and shouted “ALL HAIL EMPEROR GETA, HIS WIFE EMPRESS SABINA AND EMPEROR CARCALLA”.

The crowd repeated the praises three times before realising how silent the crowd was outside. It was almost as though they given up and were preparing to leave. Geta and Carcalla smiled at each other, giving each other a knowing look.

A female concubine came to Geta with a cake of emmer, of the wheat kind. Geta took it from her hands and watched her walk away. He realised Sabina wasn’t make eye contact with him so he tried to lovingly get her to look at him, while it was being rather forced. He broke the emmer above her head and he watched it crumble around her.

As they were on the ground taking the cake around them, Geta wrapped his hand on hers. “Remember your mine, you need to play the part.”

************************************************************************

The rest of the wedding went by smoothly, there were various guests congratulating the couple that were hardly separated. Geta had his arm wrapped around her the entire time, ensuring that no one had a plan to steal his new empress away.

Her father and his wife came by to “congratulate” the couple but only discussed plans for future meetings. From her father’s eyes, she could tell that he far from approves of this match and hopes something dreadful will happen to him in the future so she would be free. Through a short discussion, Geta had sent them to talk with the other officials.

Geta had to excuse himself for a moment then Carcalla had quickly replaced him with a breath of strong wine and a fresh cup in hand. He was quite giggly, which had concerned Sabina.

“Welcome to the family sister, I had my doubts but you survived.” He shrugged. Sabina politely smiled at him, sensing the uneasy tension between the two. They hardly spoke to each other, yet there was strong tension.

“I suppose it is safe to call you brother, but I prefer Carcalla. It is however whatever you wish.” Sabina bowed her head.

“I prefer either. But I also wanted to propose.” Carcalla grinned as he took a step closer to her. “Just because your married to my brother, doesn’t mean you can’t warm my bed.”

“Excuse me?” Sabina hardly choked out.

“Geta can be busy and women, such as yourself should be treasured. This marriage may be of convivence and power but that a women should not be abandoned.” His voice was lower then before he could add onto his point, Macrinus placed a hand on his shoulder. Sabina never met the advisor up close. He made eye contact and smiled at her for a moment.

“I think you should go and sit down emperor, the entertainment is about to start. “ He ushered him to sit down. While hesitant at first, Carcalla sat next to his concubines.

“I apologize empress. Sometimes your husband’s brother can be quite imaginative.” He smiled at her. “You are quite the beauty, so mysterious and so strong. The heart of a rebel thief of Rome” He muttered, taking a sip from his glass.

Sabina sighed. Of course he knew who she was before this entire thing. “Macrinus, how should I address you, high advisor Macrinus, or….”

“Just Macrinus. It is I who should be calling you the highest of honors.” He grinned as he kissed the front of her hand. “For I am just your servant, rebellious Emperess.”

“Macrinus, it is an honor to meet you. I….”

Geta snuck up behind her and wrapped his arm around her once again. “She is no longer a rebel, she is my wife and one day, she will provide me with heirs to Rome to provide order.” His grip tightened on her and Macrinus had noticed immediately. The advisor mumbled a “very well” before glancing at Sabina, providing a final bow and walked away.

Something told Sabina she was going to be talking again to him real soon.

************************************************************************

The ceremony ended slowly as the guests left to their homes or rented rooms respectfully. Geta and Sabina personally thanked everyone to this joyous occasion.

Only that it wasn’t joyous to either of them.

Once everyone left, Carcalla excused himself with some concubines as they went off to their own endeavours as he called it. Carcalla’s eyes, however didn’t leave her as he left. Geta let out a heavy sigh as soon as it was the two of them.

He closed his eyes for a moment just to take in the peace. “Finally, it is over.”

“I suppose it is, I guess that people of Rome will be at your feet as I am your bride.” Sabina looked down at her feet. She knows what is to come, her responsibilities and expectations but she wasn’t sure what was to become of her today.

“They will be, with you allied with me, adopting our customs. Your going to be a powerful empress.”He said, placing the palm of his hand under her chin. She looked up at him as he gave a smug smile. “You are not a prisoner here, but rather my wife. I expect you to behave as much and to be honest with me.”

All Sabina could do was nod. She knew that if he tried anything, the people of Rome would revolt. She only wanted to be at peace, and only take what her people needed.

Geta then took her by the hand and lead them to their chambers. Sabina had felt her heart start pacing. She wasn’t sure if she was ready for this, for anything regarding her marriage duties. Yet, she knew it was expected of her.

He closed the door behind her then he smiled at her. He reached to remove her robe, then he stopped. He seen the fear in her eyes and realised that only one party would enjoy it. He recalled the events from the night before and sighed.

The Emperor couldn’t do this, she wasn’t ready or even wanted to do it. He sighed and took off his ceremonial robes and looked at Sabina, who still refused to look at him.

“You know we don’t have to do this.” He said in a low tone.

“We must it’s part of customs….” Sabina began but Geta shushed her.

“I know, but we don’t have to. You are the Emperess, whatever you say happens with exceptions.” He muttered, reminding her of her place. He kissed her hand and waited for her response. He knew that she was his, but he didn’t want to force her.

“I.. don’t believe I am ready yet to partake in such activities.” Sabina said after a short pause. Geta nodded and understood what she meant. She then cleared her throat “However, I did enjoy the activity that we partook last night.”

Geta blinked twice. He was going to apologize. He knew he was too forceful and aggressive towards her in the cell. He knew that it was his rage that consumed him, but now that he has her, he can watch her very carefully.

“I may prefer it a bit intense when it comes to pleasure.” She leans to his ear and whispers. She was insanely nervous, but she did like how he made her feel. Maybe she liked being treated like that, whose to say. But there was something that grew between her legs after that night. She wanted more, but she was afraid.

Geta’s eyes widened at her confession. Hearing a woman, say that was news to him. Sure, he had his concubines, where he could go for hours railing them from the back, hearing them wail in pleasure. But he was a bit surprised. He mumbled a “forgive me Venus” before he began kissing her neck.

Sabina felt the Emperor’s lips on her neck. She let out a soft whimper from the sense of ecstasy from it. There were parts of her that told her to run away to hide but other parts of her ensured her that she was safe with him. She also had to play the game as well, she still had to help her people.

Geta grabbed her by her hips and began to walk her to the bed, taking his time with it. His lips never left her neck as his lips crawled to her collarbone. She had now idea how far from the door she moved until she felt the bed from the back of her knees. She had felt him push her down on the soft mattress and she had a moment to relax from the soft fabrics. The two looked at each other for a moment before he began to take off her ritual stola, once again admiring her body.

“You are made by the gods, blessed by them.” He muttered as he flicked his tongue against her nipple, his lips curling as he seen how she squirmed by his touch. Her mouth gasped open as he let out a soft groan against her nipple. He began sucking it, testing the waters, she let out a loud moan. He grazed the sides of her body, taking her all in.

His lips trailed down to her stomach then admired her pussy, and admired it like a work of art. His brown eyes kept looking at her, watching her reaction. He liked it rough sure, but he wanted to make sure she was going to enjoy it as well. Any trace of pain, he was going to back out. The last thing he would want is Venus, who already hates him to curse him for doing wrong to her daughter.

If she was her child.

Geta took the chance and licked her pussy. It was a quick swipe, and Sabina squealed in response. He took a moment to take it in then did it again, with a similar response from her. All he was doing was test the waters and tasting her pussy. She was divine, even by her taste. He had to have more, so he began to devour her pussy.

Sabina felt strange, but in a good way. She was full of pleasure, and it felt insanely good on herself. She felt a glow around her body as she had an emperor eating her out. She felt insanely powerful with this man completely at her mercy. She wrapped her legs around him, which only made him dive further into her pussy. He muttered how her pussy tasted like the lemons he tasted the previous night in only which he would chuckle with himself. She felt a sense of pleasure that was ongoing then suddenly it vanished with the absence of his tongue.

Before she could say anything, Geta flipped her to her stomach. There was a pause, and the subtle sound of his robes being dropped. All Sabina did was shake her head then he nodded in understanding.

“I see.” The emperor muttered. There was a short period of silence. The emperor was a man of his word, and he didn’t want to scare off his new bride too soon. However, he wanted to play around with her. He walked to the corner of his bed then stood up. His eyes not loosing contact with her. His brown eyes, once full of light were dark.

“Sit on my lap.” He said sternly. Sabina felt her heart drop at the site of the emperor of Rome. He was once so proud and dashing in his outfits. Now, he is bare, vulnerable to her, asking to be tormented by her. She glanced at his cock that had curly strawberry blonde hairs attached. She has seen one before, but nothing like this. Her cheeks turned red as she watched his chest heave.

It wasn’t a suggestion, so she hopped onto his upper thigh as she took in his scent. The main smell was heavy wine and the oils he put onto himself prior to the ceremony. She got herself comfortable then she felt him begin to move his leg up and down. A grin spread across his face as he watched her tits jiggle from the movement. He repeated it again and noticed how she grinned in response to the pleasure.

“Move.” He commanded. “Up and down my leg.”

She did as was asked of her. Her pussy moved up and down his leg, taking in the feeling. When she was going to lean in to kiss his neck, she felt his hand cusp her dark hair and pull her face back. She gasped at the feeling but her eyes met with his.

“Eyes on me at all times mia Colmbia” He hissed under his breath. She nodded as she made sure to make eye contact with him. She does have power, but even it does have limits.

Brown eyes meet brown eyes again. No matter how much force, or aggression of movement, she was lost in the moment. Even just for a second, she felt invincible, the power she had and how she was desired by one of the emperors of Rome. Even with her crimes, she wasn’t sure if it made her more attractive to him and this was his way of punishing her.

Regardless, Sabina liked it.

She blushed as the movements got more and more intense. Her knot in her stomach was blooming. Once again, once she felt her height of pleasure peak, he pushed her aside, away from his leg. His tongue stuck out and curled to the side as a wide grin spread across.

“Remember, your my wife, I can only make you finish.” He scoffed as Sabina at first wanted to resort to violence. A simple slap across the face would do, but no. She knew better than that. Instead, she needed to play her cards right with him. Just like he is doing with her. With this game of cat and mouse they are playing, it really does lead to the question who is the cat and who is the mouse.

“Right, sorry husband.” Sabina muttered. Geta nodded in agreement and excused himself. Sabina thought he was going to spend the night with his concubines. She did not want to care, but somehow she did.

It was the perfect time to take some looming jewels.

She got out of her bed and went straight to work, in hopes of taking what she can, bring it to the chapel and donate it. If her husband questions it, she will say it was a donation to the church that clearly needed it. However, she will know the truth.

What was he going to do? Kill her?

************************************************************************

Geta stood by the window, with a wine glass in hand taking in some thoughts while admiring the stars.

What was he going to do with her?

What was she going to do to him?

He knew he should have sent someone to watch over her, but he needed a break from the siren. Geta knew that she was going to take some jewellery and send it off to her church, her people.

Honestly, he couldn’t care less. The jewellery in his room was very little worth to him. He keeps his valuables in a locked safe. The jewellery in that room would be a donation at the very least in the eyes of the emperor. However, if he catches her touch anything of value, she is going to be punished. A discussion will be made between them in the morning.

He called for Carcalla’s attendance. But he was nowhere to be seen. He assumed to he having the audience of his concubines. The last thing he would want to do is to walk in on that scene.

What was he going to do with her? Have a family and children of course when it came down to it. But how was he going to mold her into the woman he wants her to be? Not the thief that she is but someone that would do everything he dreams of and more?

She was perfect, but needed training as Geta saw of it.

He finished the glass of wine then felt someone’s presence in the room with him. He looked around and saw no one. He cleared his throat then let out a soft gasp after feeling a blade down his neck. He didn’t bother turning around, afraid of the consequences of doing so.

“You can take the jewels, mel.” He assumed it was his wife, but the sly chuckle that followed made him realise it wasn’t her. He didn’t budge.

“You really think your wife would do this? She already ran off with your jewels. She’ll be back in the morning though.” Her voice was dark, mellow and sinister. He wanted to ask who they were and what they wanted.

Geta paused for a moment before he could talk, the blade dug into his skin. He let out a soft yelp.

“I am going to do the talking. I will keep it simple for you to understand. Don’t. Hurt. My niece! Her mother is already at her wits end with this grand scheme of yours. She doesn’t wish her daughter to get hurt you see and son of whore emperors like you seem to think you can meddle with us without consequences. This is your one and only warning Geta.”

Before he could respond, he felt her presence gone. He was freaked out, wondering who it was and why they came at this hour. Yet, he only looked at his glass.

Perhaps he gifted himself too much with the wine.

He smirked to himself and sighed. This sounds more like a discussion with the wife in the morning.

“Emperor your neck.” He heard Macrinus say.

Geta turned around and sighed at him. “I am fine, did you see anyone run off from this direction?”. He was looking around which had Macrinus concerned.

The advisor scrunched his brows “No, no I haven’t Emperor. Why should we send to search for them?”

Geta nodded as the advisor walked closer to him. “I would have thought you would spend the night with your wife, not out here.”

There was a pause as he looked down to his feet. “I did, she’s asleep now.” He knew that wasn’t the case, but he didn’t want anyone to know that he will need to punish her further for her crimes. He didn’t want the people of Rome to be angry.

Now he thought he pissed the gods off too.

#emperor geta x oc #emperor geta smut #emperor geta imagine #emperor geta #emperor caracalla #gladiator ii

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