#i love sad little lazy me. i love when i love sad little lazy me. sad little lazy me deserves to be loved
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sciderman · 7 months ago
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ARE WE AFFIRMING YOUR GENDER?! IS THAT WHAT WE’RE DOING?!
Sci, first of all, I’m so sorry your dad said that listing your pronouns is embarrassing. It’s 2024. What’s embarrassing is being a parent who cares more about what other people think of them than what their child thinks of them. People don’t have to understand you, they don’t even have to agree with you, but if someone says they love you, the least they can do is make the attempt to show you they respect your identity as an individual person. I know this is particularly difficult for parents sometimes but it’s not impossible. I sincerely hope that someday your dad realizes how spectacular you are and how lucky he is to have the opportunity of knowing and loving someone as truly kind, funny, and generous as you are.
Second of all, LET’S GIVE ANOTHER SHOUT OUT TO THOSE PRONOUNS. Oooo I like the way you wear he/him. It’s loud, it’s rebellious, it’s confident, it’s authentic! It’s everything those angry white boys with podcasts WISH they were! You are entering your “boys will be boys” era and it’s covered in bright colors, zany patterns, sequins, and ATTITUDE.
I am so fucking proud of you for taking this big scary step into being your true self and laying it bare before the world. Just last night I was thinking about how one of the reasons I was so miserable in my 20s was because when I was around 21/22 I went back into the closet to make myself “more palatable��� for the people around me. Less confusing for them. Less work for them. And I’ll never actually know what experiences I lost when I lost myself. I’ll never know what I could have done, the opportunities and stories and memories I missed out on because I was only living as half a person. I’m back on track now though, and the good news for you is: now that you’ve taken this step you never have to ask that question again.
I’ve gotta say, Sci, announcing your true pronouns is definitely one of the sexiest things you could ever do. And Wade agrees. <3
hooougghh bless you @nobutforrealthough - you're so cool and sexy and ough...
i feel so very exhausted in the head lately about identity things. i think a lot of people thought i was some kind of gender icon when really i'm just piecing things together as best as i can. i feel a little exhausted that people thought so much of me and i'm not delivering on it. (but i've felt that way all the time, all my life, from pretty much everybody.)
i guess it's difficult to do all this alone, without anyone in your corner. i think writing wade and peter, they sort of felt like friends to help me through it, because i don't really have anyone else out there to help me through and speak to me on my level. so – i kind of had to invent voices to give me courage. and it helps. but i worry that it's a little sad, too. sorry. i'm feeling very frank and bare this morning.
it's a lonely old world when you still haven't figured out where you fit in it. and maybe you're not meant to fit. but you kind of do need to fit, for your sanity. for your survival. so you contort and compromise and squeeze yourself into weird shapes and bug your head. and it's all so, so exhausting for me. and i think my body's finally telling me it's time to retire. my body is so, so tired...
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tanicus-caesareth · 7 months ago
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guarana drama, damage control
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andragoras-in-vanity · 2 months ago
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god i love james wans movies, theyre so bad but so good
#like some of them are bad at being horror but good at being drama and im here for it#i have mixed feelings about the warrens irl but them in the movies 😭😭 i need a husband like that#i hate them they made me attracted to patrick wilson and thats not okay#but fuck by the third movie lorraine knowing him so well she keeps his heart medication in her locket😭😭😭#because he goes running without thought to save her even when she doesnt need saving#even when she CAN handle it herslef she never needs to push through the worry or fear#because he just always instantly there#but as for the annabelle movies i still think the real doll is creepier than the dead silence leftover prop BUT he or someone on his team#knows not only horror but ghosts#and its impressive to me all the things they split between annabelle and the nun/valak that are legitimate haunting experiences#its the room turning darker the longer you look into it amd the horned things smile#and the yellow eyes that they onlt gave to the nun#because i honestly believe that showing it in its true form with all of these traits would give it power#and like...release it#anyway the two movies i wanted to watch arent up for streaming ans im too lazy to get my laptop out for it#cause im actually maybe gonna play a game on it duh#but fuck i do think james wan doesnt pull punches with jumpscares while also creating compelling characters#especially if those characters are fully damned from the beginning#idk maybe i feel this way because of my paranormal experiences but i genuinely do like jumpscare horror when its done well#becayse his is#and also he know how just Bad malignant was and he did it anyway😭#annabell creation was the best by far tho horrorwise#plotwise i do love the conjuring 2 even though they werent involved with the enfield haunting#after their initial interview they werw told to fuck off by the family ans morris rosse was the main investigator#but valak was sexy and it was such a lovely portrayal of their relationship#tbh annabelle is good but it just makes me a little sad because she nearly loses her baby#that stuff kinda gets to me not as horror but as like a personal thing#ill still watch it tho im not a baby i can deal with that shit but just i know i probably cant have kids and wouldnt survive if i tried so#anyway james wan haters get fucked his movies are good when hes the one directing them
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e77y · 4 months ago
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#hi#woke up in a weird bad mood and just kinda feeling hopeless about writing and creating in general#also about fandom stuff which is silly to worry about but idk. I just feel lonely here#which is my fault for not texting people lol. sorry ❤️ I have been Weird lately idk what it is#and I don’t interact with non-DnDads stuff on my fandom blog#mostly bc I am too nervous/emotionally lazy to deal with sifting through whole new communities#despite the opportunities to make friends in other fandoms I’m interested in….. hm#just not very online at all I guess#which is probably better for me LOL#being Too Online always gives me bad obsessions and vice versa and it’s kinda just. a cycle? so it’s good that I’m not in it rn#but also I feel a little sad whenever I see people on my dash sharing ideas with their friends and stuff#I’m not lonely in GENERAL bc I have my irls whom I love dearly ❤️❤️❤️#but I just wish I had more friends I could talk to about writing/fandom stuff I guess? idk I will probably delete these tags later#maybe I’ll feel more normal when I eat breakfast lol#ALSO I HAVE TO DRIVE MY FAMILY ON THE INTERSTATE TODAY. not happy about it 😭#<- I have never driven on the interstate before bc I avoid them at all costs#the ones in Florida are fucking SCARYYYY#okag that’s all#sorry for the ramble and hope uou all have a great day :3#also reading back this post is deeply embarrassing (like. how much I care is embarrassing lol) but also idgaf 🥲#I ❤️ embarrassing myself in a public forum
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adore-gregor · 1 year ago
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i like christmas time and the beginning of winter
But it's also challenging
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munch-mumbles · 1 year ago
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kj post five hundred thousand lamenting the loss of my passion for drawing because its starting to feel like its never coming back
#it shouldnt feel like a chore! i miss when it was fun!!!!#as much as i try not to care about my art posts flopping because i know attention shouldnt be my motivator for drawing#it does still make me a little sad so now my brain struggles to want to create anything#like i WANT to create desperately desperately but i sit down to draw and just want to go to bed#the tiredness has been permeating my life ive become extremely socially isolated#which loops around to making me even more bored because im just in my own head all day and theres not even anything in here#my attention span has degraded to the point that i literally have to force myself to try and think about my own ocs most of the time#which doesnt even work because within two seconds i get distracted by being frustrated i have to force it#gruhhhhh . grouhhhh#i miss when mlad was fresh and it was so fun and exciting and fulfilling to work on it#now even though i still love it and want to work on it it just keeps slipping between my fingers#GRUHHH. i want to draw i want to write i want to talk to people but i Cant#i need to join another server or something because after my last Really bad mental period i isolated myself a lot lot lot. and ive been too#scared to go back to my old spot and now i very rarely talk to more than one person a day (excluding work)#im lonely and im too exhausted to be interesting enough to fix it!#im pretty sure 80% of my problems could be fixed with like. adhd medication#but im too tired and lazy and tired to start the road to getting it#sorry i keep coming back to append on more tags but last thought i prommy. i just miss when things could actually hold my attention#i miss having the motivation to do minicomics for lore drops i miss being so excited about aus with friends i would do multiple sketches a#day i miss being so gripped by individual scenes between characters i would take the time to write a multi page minific about it#why cant my brain HOLD ANYTHING ANYMORE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#JUST PAY ATTENTION :(#i need a new hyperfixation or im going to do something drastic.
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diari0deglierrori · 1 year ago
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Don’t know why I even had a tiny hope they’d notice at least some of the efforts I put into preparing the house for them, getting all their favorite stuff and all, but it’s not the lack of thank yous or anything it’s the fact that her first instinct instead is to find something to complain about. No wonder I’m at my worst whenever we have to live together, she brings out the worst in me
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salemlunaa · 4 months ago
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VOID STATE: LAZINESS IS A DISEASE, GET WELL SOON 🧸
get your ass up and get your dream life
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*mild tough love because some of you need this*
so alot of people go on about how they procrastinate the void and shifting to their new reality because of fear. but alot of you do not want or care to admit that , you’re just too fucking lazy. And to that i say seriously?? You know that you can have ANYTHING, absolutely ANYTHING and EVERYTHING you dream of, with just a trip to the void state and yet you hold it off. “I’ll do it tonight” you say, even though the most groundbreaking thing you have done today was scrolling through your phone on this app and others (which is time that could have been spent tapping in). You torture yourself scrolling through tiktok and instagram, looking at others from afar with jealousy wishing you had their lives. You add posts into your favourites telling yourself “i’ll have that life someday”, “i’ll have that body soon”, “when i shift i’ll be as pretty as her” (when you could literally have all that and better RIGHT NOW) You insert yourself in different narratives, shows and groups you wish you were apart of, when you could literally shift to a reality where you are there.
you don’t have to look at them with jealousy
you dont have to get upset about your shitty life
you don’t have to imagine
you don’t have to want for anything
you don’t have to yearn, long, desire
it can be yours, if i’m honest you should be more excited about this, scripting anything you could ever possibly dream of, even the little details, and they could be YOURS. you should start being so much more excited about this, about your dream life, like seriously. And that excitement about having everything should motivate you to tap in. Instead your lazy ass has adopted a loser mentality, doing absolutely nothing all day telling yourself you’ll “try at night” and when you don’t get in you repeat the cycle. You abandon responsibilities telling yourself it doesn’t matter because “youre gonna shift anyways”, and you don’t even put in the actual effort. It’s a very dangerous cycle to go down and you can go from moving round that cycle once to doing it 30 times and before you know it you’ve spent a month in this rut.
you don’t have to wait until the night and you know that so don’t give me bullshit. Take those limiting beliefs away and do it at any time of day when you get the chance.
Do you know how lucky you are to even have the access to learn about this shit. There are probably so many people much more disciplined than you, that would do so much with this information, who don’t even have access to the internet or any outside resources to even reach this sort of information and you’re fucking wasting your days lurking on this app. doing what? And it’s sad because, this community is so small meaning you are here for a reason my love, all that shit you went through and didn’t deserve, you looked at it all and knew there was more out there for you, knew that you were deserving of more. And i’ll be dammed if your lazy ass ruins it for yourself.
You have overcomplicated the void so much to the point where you’re scared to “fail” and “let yourself down” so you put it off and say you’ll “do it later”. Now remember, you cannot fail the void, you cannot fail something that is inside you, something that IS you. What you fail to do is stand firm in the fact that you’re a god and can do anything, everything is easy for you so get off your ass and go shift.
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i just HAD to 🤭 @smellofemale
you deserve everything, and you CAN, in fact, have it all. JUST DO IT 🥥💋
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c0ffeejelly1 · 3 months ago
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When you don’t say I love you back.
Multiple characters headcannon
Authors note: this is not spelling checked, grammar checked, punctuation checked so don’t come at me. I’m lazy.
Warnings: NSFW Content (kinda)
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“Shit..babe!” He boomed to you across from the empty kitchen cabinet, before closing it to quickly put on some slides.
“I’ve gotta head out to the shop down the road for a quick minute, we’re outta snacks to eat with the movie.”
“Oh okay, see you later then, and don’t worry I won’t start the film without you..”
“You better not. Anyways bye, I love you.”
“Yeah.”
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The type to walk back in and question it
He didn’t notice that you didn’t reply to him until he had closed the door behind him. That’s when it came to him.
Immediately after the door shut, he ripped it wide open again a confused and offended look on his face, as he stared down at you on the couch. “Babe.”
You turned to face him, an innocent expression painting your features. “Yeah? You forget something?”
“I think you’re the one forgetting something..” You glance around faking a puzzled look before returning your gaze to him,
“No...I don’t think I did. What are you talking about?” He was now crossing his arms at you, a disappointed look on his face.
“Y/N.” Yikes, he’s going first name bases with you; he was not playing around. It was a little funny to watch him react like this though, because you could see the small pout on his face despite the scowl he was presenting to you.
“Yes handsome?” You say mockingly wanting to see how far you could take this.
“Why didn’t you say it back?”
“Say what back?”
“y’know what I’m talking about.“
“Do I?”
“…”
You better kiss him now that you’ve made him sad.
Characters: MIDORIMA, kagami, giyuu, jean, kageyama, TSUKISHIMA, osamu, Ushijima, NANAMI, geto, LUCIFER, diavolo, todoroki, Iida. (Anyone you like)
The type to not process it until AFTER they’ve bought the snacks
It was while he was tapping his card to the register that he himself also registered-
“Wait a damn minute.”
He’s rushing his ass back home, the distant yell that he dropped his snacks, left unheard from the poor cashier.
When he arrives home though..
“So..” he starts, falling back onto the couch with you. “You know you're the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever met right?” He tries buttering you up a bit in hopes it’ll get you in a ‘good mood’.
“You’re just so SO beautiful, that every time I look at you there are only hearts in my eyes..y’know that right? Right baby?..” you only nod your head trying to stop the smile forming on your face.
“I just.. love you so much y’know?”
“Thank you.”
“Baby, I love you.”
“Yeah, I heard.”
“I. Love. You.”
“Why do you keep repeating that?”
“You’re gonna make me cry.”
You say it back to him once he starts tickling the hell outta you.
Characters: dimple, REIGEN, KISE, rengoku, connie, armin, NISHINOYA, HINATA, OIKAWA, choso, gojo, MAMMON, DENKI. (Anyone you like)
The type to give you a dirty look and repeat it again LOUDER.
“..bitch.”
“Are you not gonna say it back?” Is what he would say to you, but instead he only resorted to giving you a not so…pretty look.
You knew damn well what you were doing. He’s no fool to you and your pranks, but that still didn’t explain the reason why he continued trying to make you say it back.
“Let’s try this again.”
“…” You give him a neutral look, a small smile dying to crack onto your lips.
“Bye, I LOVE you.” He tried emphasising the love part making sure you would get the hint of what he was waiting on.
“Mhm..yeah, now go buy the snacks I’m hungry.” Are you trying to get yourself killed? This is not the type of guy you should be fooling around with this kinda stuff.
“I’m not going anymore” he walks away from the door before striding over to you.
“What? Why? H-hey! What are you doin-” he grips onto your waist before hosting you onto his shoulder.
“Gotta find out why my girls being so stubborn, so what better way than..”
That’s how you ended up here, hands tied behind your back, and a blindfold on, all your senses focused on only him and the distant sound of the TV.
Every time he would say he loved you, If you didn’t reply back to him fast enough the restraints would stay on for an extra minute while he went ahead and watched the movie without you.
“I love you.” Jesus, you could practically feel the devious smirk he had on his face.
“I. Love. You. Too.” You reply with a small hiss through clenched teeth. He only chuckled at your tone giving you a slight pat on your head. “Bet you won’t try this again huh?”
He’s sleeping on the couch.
Characters: AOMINE, SANEMI, eren, UKAI, IWAIZUMI, tendou, ATSUMU, toji, satan, solomon, bakugou. (Anyone you like)
The type to immediately start apologising for no reason
“I’m sorry baby, I’ll never do it again.”
He doesn’t even open the door before he’s on his knees looking up at you for some hint that you weren’t angry at him. “Please say something..”
The reason you obviously couldn’t say anything at that moment was because you just didn’t expect him to go down on his knees and beg for forgiveness for who knows what-
“Look I know this must be about eating the takeout and only leaving the empty bowl behind to make it look as though I didn’t- and this obviously must also be about me stealing your shirt and accidentally using it as a washcloth- or maybe it’s the underwe-”
“OKAY!” You yell putting both your hands in front of his face rendering him confused, “I-I get it! Okay..”
he only cocks his head to the side moments before his face drops when you tell him it was a prank.
“Oh..it is?..”
“Yeah…”
“So you still love me?”
“Very much.”
“..wait- what did you do with my underwear?”
He’s gone silent.
He’s getting up.
He’s walking away.
He’s running now.
“Wha- Hey! Come back here!”
“Gotta buy the snacks now, bye!”
This man is NOT as innocent as he looks.
Characters: serizawa, tengen, REINER, kuroo, BOKUTO, LEVIATHAN, Asmodeus. (Anyone you like)
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rinsoap · 4 months ago
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➣ includes : brother's best friend! suna rintaro. oh and also small age gap between him and the reader, only two ish years though. LOWKEY SUGGESTIVE? one mention of the reader not wearing a bra if that is something u deem suggestive.
note : i'm so in love with romantic and sexual tension between u n suna it's so fun to write! also lmk if u want a pt2 or something not sure what i'd do for a pt2 but y'all can send in some ideas lol
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suna rintaro who is your brother’s best friend… he likes seeing you around the house, ready for bed looking so cute in your comfy shorts and a little top n no bra. he likes that he gets to see what you look like everyday instead of only seeing you dolled up. he likes when you’re glammed, of course, you always look stunning. he just likes stealing glances of you do everyday tasks.
like tonight, in the kitchen far too late in the night, he’ll lean against the doorframe as he watches you make a snack. he notices the curves of your shoulders, and how the small of your back peeks out from your top riding up a little. you’re still humming the song you’ve had stuck in your head all day. you turn around and surprised to see him, you gasp, causing him to widen his lazy half smile. you roll your eyes, party because he scared you, but also because he looks way too good. hands shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants loose around his hips, hair messy, and a white tank top on that fits him perfectly. he looks like a slut.
“what could you possibly want,” you sigh, and he shrugs in response. “just wanna see what you’re up to”
“where’s my brother? shouldn’t you be hanging with him?” you question, pointing a strawberry pop tart at him accusingly.
“he’s asleep” he closes the distance between you to take the pop tart out of your hand, taking a rather generous bite.
“rin stop, oh my god you just ate like half of it,” you exclaim, snatching it back, “you’ve already cleaned out half the fridge, when will your greedy ass be satisfied?”
“rin?” he cocks his head, his sleepy smile settling into a smug one, “you haven’t called me that since, like, elementary school” the eye contact he so casually maintains is difficult for you to keep, and your face gets furiously hot, looking away. “yeah well, i kind of thought you were embarrassed by it, so i got embarrassed and i stopped” you try to exit the conversation and walk past him to the doorway he was just standing in, trying to signal that you were going to leave to your bedroom. he follows you, much to your dismay. he leans against the doorway, his back to it, and you mimick his action. you're both looking directly at each other, and it feels weirdly intimate. seeing each other face on meant he could see every expression on your face.
“why would you think that? i wasn’t embarrassed.” he says, his eyes scan you from your painted toenails to the top of your head, but inevitably looking into your eyes. after a beat of hesitation, he continues talking. “...you know, i had a crush on you then. i was really sad when you stopped calling me it.”
the heat in your face returns as he laughs. how can he sit there and laugh after dropping this insane piece of information??
“you’re kidding. i totally liked you back, why didn’t you tell me sooner?” you look at him incredulously, mouth agape and growing annoyed as you realize he was not as shocked finding out your feelings as you were in learning his.
“yeah, i figured. but your brother, you know? and just in case i wasn’t right, i didn’t want you to reject me and then show up at your house the next day to watch movies with your brother” he had a point. you remember those movie nights. you always wanted to watch with them, but your brother would always say no and kick you out of the room. suna always let you watch anyways, offering a seat on the couch beside him despite his best friend’s wishes.
the movie nights were not the only thing your mind was pondering on. if he knew about your crush then, did he know now? your feelings were much too complicated for you to call it a crush, and you'd like to think you've learned how to be at least a little subtle, so maybe he didn't know.
"that’s crazy. we just barely missed each other i guess” you finally say with a chuckle that turns into a thoughtful hum, glancing anywhere but his eyes.
"what? so, you don't have a crush on me anymore?" oh, so he did know. he easily closes the gap between you two, and for once, it doesn't seem like he's teasing you. "rin..." you say, mouth slightly open like you're going to add something else, but you don't. "i don't think we missed anything... am i wrong?" he leans towards, and you swear he's going to kiss you but he stops before your lips touch, "you can tell me if i'm wrong."
you grab his shirt and pull him in to press your lips against his, bringing him into a surprising, but long kiss. his hands thread through your hair, lingering in the moment. when you break away, they slide from your hair to the sides of your neck, and he has the dumbest smile on his face. "definitely not wrong."
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pucksandpower · 5 months ago
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What the Eyes Can’t See
Charles Leclerc x blind!Reader
Summary: you may not be able to see in the traditional sense, but Charles won’t let that stop you from seeing him
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The crackle of the fireplace fills the cozy living room as you snuggle deeper into the plush couch cushions. Your head rests on Charles’ chest, rising and falling with each steady breath. His arm wraps around you, fingers tracing lazy circles on your shoulder.
“This is nice,” you murmur, nuzzling against the soft cotton of his shirt. “Just you and me.”
Charles presses a kiss to the top of your head. “It really is. No racing, no interviews, no cameras. Just us.”
You smile at the rumble of his voice vibrating through you. “You know, there are times I’m actually grateful I can’t see.”
“Oh?” His thumb strokes your arm. “How so?”
“Because it means I experience things purely through the other senses. Like right now.” You inhale deeply, savoring the smoky wood blending with Charles’ warm, earthy scent. “I can really focus on the sound of your heartbeat, the feeling of you breathing, that wonderful smell ...”
Charles gives a contented hum. “I’ve never thought about it that way before.”
You shift to gaze up at him, fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “Of course, there are other times when not being able to see is … difficult.”
“Like what?”
You consider this for a moment. “Hmm, well, I’ll never get to admire the Monaco skyline or see you celebrating on the podium after a win.”
A hint of sadness tinges your tone as you continue. “And as much as I love listening to you talk about racing, I can’t fully picture the circuits or the cars or … or you in your race suit.”
Charles’ chest rises and falls with a soft sigh. You can sense his gaze studying you intently.
“Is there anything you wish you could see? If you could have your sight for just a day?”
You don’t even have to think about your answer. “You.”
You feel him tense in surprise. “Me?”
“Yes.” Your hands roam over the strong lines and curves of his face, trying to commit every plane and angle to memory through touch alone. “More than anything, I wish I could see what you look like with my own eyes.”
You trace the sweeping arches of his brows, the aristocratic slope of his nose, the firm line of his lips. Lips you’ve kissed so many times yet never seen.
“I want to see the exact shades of your hair and eyes,” you murmur. “Whether your skin has any adorable little freckles. What expressions flit across your face when you smile or laugh or ...”
You trail off as emotion clogs your throat. Charles pulls you closer, cradling you against his chest.
“Hey,” he says softly, tilting your face up toward his. “Maybe this will help.”
His warm fingers alight on your hands, gently guiding them until your fingertips brush the graceful curve of his cheekbone. You freeze, caught off guard by the tender intimacy.
“Charles?” You breathe. “What are you doing?”
“Letting you see me, in a way,” he responds. “Go ahead, map out my face with your hands. Don’t hold back.”
You swallow hard, heat creeping into your cheeks. Taking a steadying breath, you begin tracing the striking angles and planes of his features with feather-light touches.
First the high forehead, smooth and unblemished beneath your questing fingertips. Then the regal swoop of his nose, the delicate arches of his brows. You brush across each, imprinting the shapes and textures into your mind’s eye.
When your fingers graze the plump curves of Charles’ lips, he presses a soft kiss to each fingertip in turn. You shiver at the whisper of his breath fanning across your skin.
“Keep going,” he murmurs, voice low and husky. “Don’t stop.”
You let your hands roam freely over the stubbled planes of his jaw, the hollows of his cheeks, the strong column of his neck. Every slope and angle, every tiny perfect imperfection imprinted into your consciousness.
As your fingers trace along the high planes of Charles’ cheeks, you can’t help but notice two tiny indentations forming in the skin. Little divots that crease and deepen as an affectionate smile blooms across his lips.
Dimples. Charles has dimples.
The discovery hits you like a bolt of lightning, a rush of tenderness and endearment flooding your chest. You find yourself helplessly, hopelessly captivated by those adorable little dents punctuating his smile.
“You have dimples,” you murmur in awe, fingertips stroking over the precious divots again and again.
A low chuckle rumbles through Charles’ chest. “That seems to delight you.”
“Of course it does!” You exclaim, feeling your own lips stretch into a beaming grin. “Dimples are the cutest thing. Especially on you.”
You lean in to nuzzle your nose against his cheek, dropping feather-light kisses into each crease. Charles gives a contented hum, strong arms winding around your waist to pull you flush against him.
“I had no idea you’d be so smitten over a couple little dents in my face,” he teases, smile evident in his voice.
You shake your head vehemently, still peppering those blessed dimples with adoring kisses. “Not just dents. They’re absolutely adorable.”
A burst of affection blooms in your chest as you realize this is the first time you’ve been able to fully appreciate this charming little detail of Charles’ features. All the times you’ve laughed and joked together, exchanged warm smiles and loving embraces — you never knew the true adorability of his dimples until this very moment.
Pulling back, you cup Charles’ face in your palms and simply drink in the shape and feel of that beautiful, dimpled smile pressing against your skin. In that instant, you fall just a little bit more in love with this incredible man.
“I’m so grateful I got to discover this about you,” you murmur, stroking the pads of your thumbs over the grooves in his cheeks. “Your dimples are my new favorite thing.”
Charles gives a soft laugh, the rumbling vibrations resonating through you both. “Well then, I’ll just have to keep smiling so you can appreciate them.”
As you continue to trace the sharp edge of his cheekbone, you can’t resist leaning in to nuzzle against the warm, fragrant skin. Charles sucks in a sharp breath, fingers tightening around your wrist.
When you finally pull back, you feel as if you’ve beheld and memorized every nuance of his face. Every dip and curve, every tantalizing detail.
“Thank you,” you whisper, drinking in the comforting scents and sounds surrounding you both. The crackle of the fire, the rhythm of Charles’ breathing, his warm, intoxicating essence. “Thank you for letting me see you like that.”
Charles doesn’t respond at first. You feel his piercing gaze raking over you, studying you with an intensity that raises goosebumps along your arms.
“You know,” he says at last, voice rough. “There’s also something I want to see.”
Before you can ask what he means, gentle fingers are slipping beneath the frames of your sunglasses. You tense instinctively, pulse skyrocketing.
Nobody ever sees your eyes.
You start to pull away, shaking your head. But Charles simply holds you steady, thumbs stroking your temples in a soothing caress.
“It’s okay,” he murmurs. “Let me in. Let me really see you this time.”
There’s no demand or expectation in his tone. Only tenderness and an affection so profound it steals your breath. Your throat works as you swallow hard.
Do you trust him enough?
You think of his face — the face you’ve just meticulously mapped and memorized. And in the cadence of his breathing, the rhythm of his heartbeat against yours, you find your answer.
Slowly, you give a tiny nod.
The sunglasses slip away, and for the first time you’re baring the full weight of your sightless gaze to another soul. You can’t see Charles’ reaction, but you feel his sharp inhalation, the minute tremor that courses through his body.
Panic grips you for a moment, wondering if you’ve made a terrible mistake by exposing such a vulnerable part of yourself. Maybe he’s revolted or pitying or-
“Beautiful.”
The hushed utterance shatters your wildly spiraling thoughts. You clutch at Charles, needing an anchor.
“What?”
“Your eyes,” he clarifies, reverence ringing in every word. “They’re the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.”
Gentle fingers cup your face, thumbs tracing the delicate skin beneath your sightless gaze. You yearn to ask him a thousand questions — what color they are, if any scars are visible, how he can possibly think them beautiful.
But then his lips are on yours, silencing your whirling doubts with a scorching, openmouthed kiss. You melt into the heated embrace, pouring all the unspoken words and insecurities into the slick slide of your mouths.
When you finally part, both of you are breathing raggedly. Charles rests his forehead against yours, fingers still mapping the curves of your face with infinite tenderness.
“Thank you,” he whispers again, voice tight. “For sharing this with me. For letting me all the way in.”
His thumb brushes the fragile skin beneath your eye, and you understand that he’s thanking you for more than just revealing your eyes. He’s grateful for the soul-deep intimacy you’ve permitted by exposing your most vulnerable and closely guarded self.
You swallow hard past the lump of emotion clogging your throat. No words can adequately express the depths of what you’re feeling. So instead, you simply lean in and capture Charles’ lips in another kiss, hoping he can taste the love and gratitude and trust shining through every caress.
When you finally pull apart, you cuddle back against Charles’ chest with a contented sigh, feeling more seen and cherished and adored than you ever have in your life.
As Charles trails tender kisses along your brow, his deep, soothing voice rumbles against you.
“No matter what, I’ll always be here to show you all the beauty and wonder you can’t see ...”
The words wrap around you like a warm, comforting blanket, chasing away any lingering insecurities. In this moment, cuddled in the arms of the man you love more than life itself, you’ve never felt more grateful for the unique way your senses experience the world.
Because really, what use are eyes when you can simply close them and see with your heart instead?
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cheyisagirlkisser · 8 days ago
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SMUT BELOW MDNI! This wasn’t supposed to be serious tbh sorry if it’s over the top but I love goofy sub-top Ellie who just can’t be taken seriously🤧 Enjoy<3
Sub-top Ellie who is obsessed with pleasing you. She whined when you tell her “No, Ellie! You can’t eat me out before I go to work” or “You can’t finger me in the Walgreens bathroom..” What she really hears is “I hate you and want you to die, Ellie.” But when you do let her have you, you’re honestly scared for your own life. You’re just trying to stay in control and not give her the benefit of seeing you fall apart because her fingers are hitting just the right place deep inside you, but the little panting sounds are a dead giveaway. She whimpers against your pussy as if she’s telepathically getting ate. And her libido? Through the roof. You’re like a staple in the household at this point, your pussy is about to be sold on the shelves of your local grocery stores because of how normal it is for her to just spend hours tending to it, talking to it as if it can understand her, “You take my fingers so well baby, you want me to give you another, hmm?” She’ll be cooing, but not at you. And god forbid she finds out you’re ovulating. Suddenly it’s an excuse for HER to be needy, and she wants to seem selfless but she’s begging to fuck you a bit too obviously. When you finally let her because your hormones have you all needy too, she will spend the next hour with that bright ass 8 inch glow in the dark strap-on deep inside you, barely fucking you because she knows she’ll be sad when you cum and make her stop:( so she’ll just be denying you for the next hour hardly fucking you, just giving you lazy little thrusts until you threaten to burn her limited edition Starlight Savage and so she’ll immediately be situated properly on top of you, purposely slamming into you so that every time you hear the sound of her skin meeting yours, you’ll feel that luminescent silicone tip kiss your cervix. She will whine when you cum and somehow find a way to convince you to just cockwarm her for a while even after all is said and done. You love her goofy ass.
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eightmakesonebraincell · 1 year ago
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ateez as royals who fall for you (maknae line)
read hyung line here
genre: royalty!ateez x fem!reader, fluff, angst, smut, crack, a brainrot and smutfest of royal tropes
length: 11.3k
c/w: very nsfw scenes - mdni, explicit language (dirty talk, swearing, insults), death, violence, blood & injuries, weapons, heavy & mature themes (sex work, murder, assassination, execution, mentions of misogyny)
a/n: as much as writing royals was tricky, it's kind of 🤢 sad 🤢 to see this au end. that being said nobody ask me for a pt 2 pls i need to recover from the trauma LMAOO and as always, huge thank you to the queen of royal au's herself @sorryimananti-romantic for helping me finish the fic and for teaching me how to make moodboards using something that is *not* word doc :')
san
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pov: you're forbidden lovers
“shh,” san hushes you with a teasing curl of his fingers that are buried inside you. “wouldn’t want everyone outside to know what a dirty little slut the princess is, do you?”
his other hand covers your mouth, stifling the breathy moans and desperate whines that escape your lips as you sit in between his legs, naked and pressed back to lean against his chest
there is the sound of water splashing over the edge of the bathtub when san hooks his feet around your inner ankles so that he can spread your legs wider for him
he presses the palm of his hand harshly against your clit and your back arches with a muffled worship of his name
“or maybe you like that,” he teases “you like the idea of people knowing how good i make you feel with my fingers”
san removes his hand from your mouth and lowers it to pinch your nipple, smirking against your neck as you babble incoherently
he coos as he adds yet another finger into you, “imagine that, everyone knows you as the princess who loves being fucked dumb. and by one of her servants, no less” 
all caution is thrown to wind and you drop your head back to lean against his shoulder, mouth lolling open with unrestrained pleads for more, more, faster as he angles his fingers to hit that sweet spot inside of you
“cum, princess” he demands
you grip bruises onto san’s thighs and arms when the pace of his fingers doesn’t relent even after your orgasm has washed over you
his arms tighten around you as his thighs flex to keep you still in his hold
you let out a choked sob from the overstimulation, teetering between pain and pleasure
“give me one more, i know you can do it,” he coaxes
the hand that has been fondling your breasts snakes down to rub your clit
with his fingers knuckle-deep inside of your pussy and his other hand playing relentlessly with your sensitive clit, the scale tips over and your vision blurs as another wave of pleasure hits you, more intense than the first one
“princess?” and then a knock. “are you okay?”
san slowly draws out the remainder of your orgasm with lazy thrusts of his finger into you
you just know he’s enjoying himself when you have to hide the shakiness in your voice to answer back to your maid outside, “everything’s fine. i’ll be done soon”
“soon?” san smirks, lifting you up by the waist to align your folds with his swollen cock. “then we better make this quick”
because you and san do not have the luxury of time, much less the luxury of love
he isn’t just another one of the numerous servants who serve you
he is everything to you despite how taboo it is for a princess and servant to love each other
his insignificance within the palace makes it much easier for him to slip away; for nobody to take notice
but at the same time, his insignificance is the whole reason why you two must be secretive in the first place
you make sure san has safely snuck out of the bathroom before you finally exit the bathtub and stand on unsteady legs
you allow your maids to come in and help you into the elaborate attire you are to wear for the afternoon
your parents have informed you that you are going to have visitors, thus requiring you to look your best
without much time left until the appointed meeting due to your…escapade, you make your way to the great hall, catching a glimpse of san’s dimpled smile from amongst the other body servants and waiting staff in the room
you have only just settled into your seat next to the king and queen when the guard outside the doors announces the arrival of your guests - the monarchs from the neodonian kingdom
schooling your expression to one of neutrality, you watch as they enter
and then you realise it isn’t just the neodonian king and queen who have come to visit
but the prince as well
he is undeniably handsome and pleasing to the eye with his sleekly gelled hair, chiseled features and tall, sturdy build
the young prince catches you looking at him and breaks out into a friendly smile and-
oh
he has dimples too
the king garners everyone’s attention with a clear of his throat, before he welcomes the monarchs
prince jaehyun, you learn his name is
“after much discussion between ourselves and king jeong and queen jeong, we are pleased to announce our desire for closer relations between our kingdoms,” your father starts, booming voice resounding within the hall
you can’t stop yourself from looking over at him as he speaks with purpose, a strange niggling feeling starting to twist your stomach
the tight smile that your mother passes you from your father’s other side does little to settle your nerves
“as such,” the king continues, “we shall look forward to the engagement between my daughter and prince jaehyun”
there is a roaring sound in your ears, as if you have been pushed to stand under a raging waterfall
engagement
the engagement
you
prince jaehyun
the engagement between you and prince jaehyun
it takes everything in your body not to bolt up from your seat
your hands grip the armrests of your seat with a grasp so tight you are certain you will leave a permanent imprint of your agony
instead, you look around frantically for the one person your instincts are screaming for
where is san?
you are afraid to see how much this is going to hurt him
you are desperate to tell him that you had no idea about this
you are aching to press confessions of love and reassurance against his lips
but just like the insignificance of his status, san is nowhere to be seen
over the two years that you and san have been in your secret relationship, he has gained extensive knowledge of which particular tasks allow him a greater chance of seeing you, which corridors reach you the quickest, and which times during your schedule you have a break
never would you have thought he would use this knowledge to avoid you
it continues like that for the weeks following the announcement
you have no choice but to spend time with your future fiance when your father tells you very clearly to “ensure the prince feels at home”
prince jaehyun is warm and you find yourself getting along with him like you two are friends, but that is it - there are no sparks brighter than friendship
when you spend time with him, you cannot help but compare him to san; san would’ve said this, san would’ve done that, san, san, san
jaehyun engages you in conversation, easily filling in the gaps and lulls with little comments here and there, equipped with a charming laugh and deep dimples
but it only reminds you of san’s dimples and crescent eyes when you two would race through corridors, fingers tightly interwoven as you both run away to a secluded area with hushed giggles
jaehyun points out that neither of you like mushrooms during a dinner and helps nudge the servings on both of your plates to one side
the smile as you say “thank you” does not fully grace your lips because you think about san, who boasts that he will eat all the mushrooms in the world so that you never have to lay eyes on one ever again
jaehyun offers a soft yet sturdy hand to help you down the stairs or when he notices you are walking in heels across an uneven surface
your body recalls san’s rough, calloused hands that leave a trail of goosebumps wherever they touch your bare skin as he worships your body all night long
jaehyun is handsome and he is kind, but he is not san
the night before the king officially announces your engagement with prince jaehyun arrives
and still, you have not had a moment alone with san since he disappeared during that first announcement in the great hall
hurt and longing consume you to the very core
some days it is manageable, a concealed yet incessant thought, like a sticker stuck to the sole of your shoe
other days it wraps around your soul completely like a constrictor tightening as it slowly squeezes the life out of its prey
but you know that you cannot be selfish
what you feel, san feels with an intensity multiplied several times
after all, you are not the one who must stand in the shadows as the love of your life becomes engaged to somebody else, powerless to do anything but watch and poison your own smile with lies
you are lying on your bed when a quick, sharp knock sounds on your bedroom doors
you make no move to acknowledge your visitor, having told your maids very clearly you did not want to be disturbed tonight
your last night as yourself before you become prince jaehyun’s fiance
but then the knocks come a little more urgent, a little more frantic, just like your heartbeat does as it starts to speed up in anticipation
you hold your breath as you hurry to pull open the doors-
and there he is
“san-”
he swallows the rest of your words in a desperate kiss, his hands coming up to cradle your jaw as he walks you backwards so that he can step into your room
he tilts your head and slots his lips against yours again while he nudges your door closed with his foot
it isn’t until you let out a whine as his tongue swipes over your bottom lip that he pulls back to finally look at you, both of his thumbs caressing your cheekbones
you grip the front of his linen shirt, afraid that he will disappear as soon as you let go
“san, i- i had no idea, i didn’t agree to any of this”
he shushes you gently, a painful smile adorning his handsome face
“i know. i know, so please don’t cry, love,” he murmurs softly
you don’t even realise the weeks of suppressed emotions have started making their way down your face in salty trails until san uses the back of his fingers to tenderly brush them away
“i’m getting engaged tomorrow, san,” your voice breaks as reality settles in
you are so afraid
you are so lost
above all, you are so in love with san
“i know,” he reassures again, “but until tomorrow, you are still mine”
and so you spend your last night together
time has always been precious; conversations, kisses and touches rushed and with fervour
but tonight, san takes his time with you
he lays on your bed with you cradled on top of him, limbs tangled together as he savours the taste of your lips against his
he turns you onto your back as he slowly undresses you, leaving tattoos of his love each time he bares another part of your body
he pleasures you with his fingers whilst whispering into your ears, creating a harmony with his praises and the melodious moans that leave your lips
and as he brings you both to your highs numerous times throughout the night like an ingrained dance routine, it is accompanied with confessions of i love you
san holds you against his chest under your blankets so tightly that you cannot tell where your body ends and his body starts
before you drift off, safe and protected in his arms, he murmurs against your temple, “no matter what happens tomorrow, no matter what happens in the future, my heart will always be yours”
“as will mine”
you wake up the next morning to an empty bed and an equally empty heart
restless and drowning in a mix of emotions, you pace the empty corridors of the guest bedchambers
which is where jaehyun finds you as he exits his room
he is surprised but is quick to greet you kindly, “good morning, princess. what are you doing here?”
you pause mid-step
what are you doing?
“prince jaehyun,” you let the words come out of you before you can regret them. “can we talk for a moment?”
he nods, entering his room again as he pulls the door open wider for you to follow
jaehyun closes the door and then offers you a seat on his sofa, before pulling up his own chair and settling a respectful distance away from you
“i hope you don’t feel uncomfortable in my room,” he explains, “i thought that we would be less likely to be disturbed in here…considering most people know of our engagement today”
“actually, i wanted to talk to you about that”
“go on,” he encourages you with a dimpled smile
you take a deep breath
“i’m sorry,” you blurt out
and then you are admitting to the prince that he is lovely and charming and caring, but you just don’t see it working out with him
you don’t want to get engaged with him
because your heart already belongs to somebody else
“good”
“i’m so sorry, i should have been honest with you from the start but- wait, what?” you look up from where you have been nervously picking at your cuticles
jaehyun is smiling at you - a genuine smile that you did not know he had
“i’m actually relieved to hear that, princess,” he admits. “because i…also have someone that i love back home”
and for the first time, you and jaehyun truly see each other in the same light
“who is it?” he asks
“his name is san,” and then you add on, “he has dimples just like you do” 
you ask him the same question
you see the way jaehyun’s expression softens with love from just the mere thought of the other
it makes you wonder whether you have the same look on your face when you mention san
jaehyun jokes, “want to be the one who tells your father we’re calling off the engagement? i don’t fancy getting executed today”
but despite what he says, mere hours later, when you are both standing in the great hall before your parents - the kings and queens of both your kingdoms - he is the one to speak up
“your majesty, we have decided to part ways peacefully and would not like to proceed with the engagement. our kingdom will always be your ally, regardless of marital relations or not”
“what?” you see veins starting to appear across the king’s forehead as he tries to maintain his temper, but the queen and the jeong monarchs seem to be taking the news much better
disappointed, perhaps, but understanding
the queen leans closer to remind the king that they had all agreed to this engagement on the terms that the decision would ultimately be yours and jaehyun’s
you suddenly speak up because this may be the only time you have the courage to
“i have one more thing to say,” you declare. “i revoke my noble status and thus declare nullified all the privileges, rules and traditions that come with nobility. i have someone i love and i wish to marry them as myself, not as the kingdom’s princess”
the king roars furiously, “that is enough! leave!” and he slams his hand against the throne’s armrest
shocked and betrayed by your father’s reaction, you rush out of the great hall with tears welling in your eyes
only to run straight into the waiting arms of san
“oh, princess,” he murmurs against the crown of your head as he engulfs you in his embrace
he doesn’t have to say anything for you to realise that he has heard the whole conversation
but you do not care about anything anymore
you are where you want to be, held by who you want to be with
“how are you here?” you sniffle
“jaehyun approached me earlier. i thought i was going to get beat up,” san’s attempt to make you smile is successful
when you lift your head up to look at him, you realise his eyes are wet as well
then you feel his body stiffen as his eyes shift to focus on something behind you
someone
he immediately steps away from you, bowing deeply as he greets the queen
you turn around to see her face adorning an endearing smile
“it’s fine, sannie,” she says, and you are not sure whether you and san are more surprised by the fact that she knows him by name or by the affectionate nickname she has used
“i’ll, uh, leave you two to talk,” he flusters
she thanks him with a teasing remark, “i won’t keep her away from you for very long”
san waits further down the corridor, back turned to give you two a moment of privacy
and then she is stroking your hair affectionately
“i am so proud of you. you’ve grown up so well and you are so brave,” she says
you don’t understand
you ask, “why aren’t you angry?”
“oh, baby,” she fondly runs her fingers through your hair, just like she used to when you were younger. “before my duties as the queen to my people, i am the mother to my daughter. i love you and all i want is for you to be happy”
your lips tremble with emotion as your mother pulls you into a hug
“does sannie make you happy, dear?”
you nod, “the happiest”
“then that is all i want. now go,” she takes a hold of your shoulders and gently turns you in the direction of san. “i’ll talk to your father”
with one last encouraging squeeze, you race down the corridor towards san
he hears your footsteps and has already turned around with open arms waiting to catch you
you hear him let out an oomph! with how hard you throw yourself into him, but he is then swaying your bodies side to side
san pulls back slightly with an incredulous look. “does this mean we can be together? together together?” 
“i goddamn hope so because i gave up my princess privileges for you. no more carriages, no more assorted sweet delicacies, no more daily massages-” you fold down your fingers as you continue listing things off
he cuts you off with a tickle to your sides as he says, “that’s easy to sort out”
“first, you’ll still be my princess,” he unfurls one of your fingers so it stands upright again
“second, i’ll carry you myself so that you never need to use your feet again,” he unfurls another finger
“i’ll give you a treat whenever you want,” he kisses your lips, nibbling on your bottom lip with a teasing tug
“and, dear princess,” he pulls you flush against his body and you have to steady yourself on his chest to avoid tripping over, “i can give you hourly massages…”
smirking, he starts to lower his head to suck pretty marks onto your neck as he whispers in a low voice, “...if you can keep up”
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mingi
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pov: you're the prince's maid
for what you are about to do, you could very well be executed should somebody catch you
but desperate times call for desperate measures
and there’s no guarantee that you and all the other staff will not be executed anyway…
not with what has just happened in the palace
you push the door closed behind you with a soft click, using the brief changeover of guards to slip inside the bedroom of the youngest prince, unnoticed
you call out softly but urgently, “prince mingi”
when you hear him groggily murmur, starting to bubble towards the surface of consciousness, you dare to give his shoulder a rough shake
“prince mingi, please wake up”
his eyes flutter open, confusion starting to clear the fogginess in his head as he struggles to comprehend the sight of your face hovering inches from his, deep into the hours of the night
“w-what’s going on?” he clears his husky voice, “are you okay?”
you wish you could reach out and smooth the wrinkles of concern from his forehead
reassure him that everything will be okay until he falls back asleep
but there is no time
“the crown prince is dead and we must leave. now.”
the effect is immediate, like you have just driven a knife into his chest
although you suppose it must not feel very different for prince mingi right now
“the crown prince is d-” the word tastes vile on his tongue, so he asks after his second oldest brother instead. “what about prince eun?”
you must drive the knife into him once more
“he was the one who murdered the crown prince, but he has framed you for the murder. there is no time, prince mingi, we must leave now”
“the court will find me innocent,” yet he lets you tug him out of his bed
you hastily help prince mingi into a dark brown robe while you shake your head, “not when your inscribed sword is currently covered in the crown prince’s blood. we do not know who is secretly working for prince eun. until we know for sure, we do not stand a chance of clearing your name”
he knows that you’re right, even if his heart is hoping that you are wrong
the prince slides his hand into the gap between his bed and wall, pulling out a spare sword and wrapping the belt around his waist
eyes sweeping across his chamber one final time, he locks eyes with you grimly before turning to flee
you follow the prince through a back passageway - it’s not entirely a secret and it won’t be long before the royal guards come for the prince, discover his empty bedroom and give chase
but it is long enough to give you two a head start
he helps you up onto the back of his personal horse before he swings himself up easily onto the saddle behind you
with a nudge of his feet, the prince sends the horse into a gallop
you startle with a yelp, having never ridden a horse before, much less one at this pace
prince mingi presses himself a little closer to you and slots his chest against your back as he leans forward to guide your hands to hold the reins with his
“here,” he murmurs, “just follow me”
he shifts one hand to settle on your waist, guiding your body into a comfortable rhythm that dances in sync with the horse’s movements and his own
when he’s sure you’ve gotten the hang of it, the prince places his hand back on the reins, yet he stays close, keeping you safely encased within his arms to prevent you from falling off
you’re not sure how long you two ride for
but at some point the prince slows the horse to a canter
with the slower sway of the steed, the steady clack of hooves against the forest floor, and the warmth of the prince around you, you drift off to his whispered, “sleep, i’ve got you”
you wake up to find yourself on a scratchy pile of leaves
the events of last night piece themselves together when you spot prince mingi, still adorning his deep blue silk pajamas, leaning against a tree a few feet away
it would have been a sight to see if not for the fact that-
“what are we going to do now?” you sit up, and the prince’s robe, you now register, falls from around your body
the prince gives you a warm smile as you rub the sleep from your eyes with fisted hands
“we’ll head into halsburg. the town is small enough the news should not have traveled that far yet. we’ll replenish some supplies and go from there”
it’s unspoken
the fact that there is no solid plan from there
even if the two of you have managed to escape the royal guards, for how long can you two run?
plus, it will be impossibly difficult to find evidence while on the run, when the answers are within the castle walls themselves
but you push those thoughts aside as you two enter halsburg, the prince’s hood pulled up over his face
you do the bulk of the purchases, less likely to be recognised by the townspeople
it’s mainly food and water for yourself, the prince, and his horse, and a simple tunic to replace his royal pajamas - something you have been teasing him about since you woke up
later that night, hours away from the outskirts of halsburg, you two settle for a couple hours of rest
a small fire crackles away to the song of the cicadas, an occasional pop as the licks of flames cast shadows across your faces
you glance at the prince sitting across from you, who is idly fiddling with his pajama top
specifically, the royal crest of the song family embroidered onto its front pocket
your heart clenches painfully, knowing the death of a family member is hard enough to process without the additional weight of being framed for murder, much less by your own brother who is the real culprit
“prince mingi…” you start, voice low
he glances up at you, eyes softening as he curves his lips up into a small smile, “i’m okay.”
you hesitate for a split second before letting the clench in your gut pull you to your feet, and you shuffle to settle back down in front of the fire, except this time beside the prince
all the while his eyes never leave you, not even when you nudge his shoulder softly and say,
“you don’t have to be strong. not in front of me…”
and he knows
because despite the differences in your social statuses, you are the person he trusts the most
you, the girl who used to trip over the lengths of his robes that you carried, now a woman who holds herself righteously and bravely
you, who chose to risk your own life from the moment you woke him up in his chambers
you, who is still risking your life to flee with him
“only if you stop calling me prince,” he jokingly nudges you back, attempting to make the atmosphere lighter despite the wetness that is starting to paint his eyes. “with you, i am just mingi”
“okay, prince mingi,” you tease
yet, you still extend a hand out to him, palm upturned in a silent invitation for comfort should he wish to seek it, because you can tell that he isn’t quite ready to seek it verbally
mingi laces his larger fingers through yours, tucking your interlocked hands closer to his body as he draws his knees up so that he can rest his chin upon them
mingi thinks that he feels numb more than anything, but he finds he isn’t as surprised as one would expect him to be
perhaps he always knew of his middle brother’s thirst for the throne 
he just never thought it would be enough to spill blood
for now though, he lets himself be distracted by your thumb tracing mindless patterns against his knuckles
he lets himself relish in the heat radiating from your side that seems to warm him from inside out, even as the embers of the fire slowly lose their glow and die out with the darkening night
the days start to repeat themselves
you two cover as much distance as you can while sparing what time you can afford for yourselves and mingi’s horse to rest
mingi has decided to travel to prince yunho's kingdom, an old and trusted ally who may be able to provide you two with protection while he pulls strings to fight back against prince eun
from his calculations, the journey will take at least another two weeks
and although mingi doesn’t tell you this, deep down he does not know whether you two have two weeks left
the threat of the royal guards catching up hangs over the two of you like a hangman’s noose
neither of you have brought up that night by the fire either
but something has definitely changed in the way you seek comfort and reassurance in each other
as if so long as you have each other, everything will be alright in the end
when you feel him tremble as he sleeps curled around you, restless from a plaguing nightmare, you hush sweet nothings and brush his locks away from his forehead until his breathing steadies out again
and when you’re seated on the saddle in front of him, you now having long grown accustomed to horse riding, he still finds himself resting a comforting hand on you somewhere - your hips, thigh or over your own hand
sometimes when he is laughing softly with you, your arms brushing against each other, you imagine a different story; one where you are worthy of loving him
sometimes when you are tucked into his chest, small exhales escaping your open lips as you sleep, mingi imagines a different story; one where he is able to love you freely
because despite the blood running through his veins that has ultimately led to his downfall, you still look at him as though he has placed the stars in the very sky that you two have spent countless nights under
and although he knows the reality is that he cannot, he tries to write his own story, even if just for tonight
you are lying in his arms, legs tangled together, when the question comes tumbling out of his lips
“will you stay with me, forever?”
he feels you still in his embrace, before you’re pulling back a little to look at him with a chuckle
“you should be asking a princess that, prince mingi, not somebody like me”
“you are a princess in my eyes”
you can’t help the endearing look that crosses over your face as you lightly tap his nose, “you know that is not how it works”
“then we can run away. for i am already as good as dead to my kingdom,” he tells you with boyish determination
“you cannot, mingi. your people need a good prince”
“but what prince would i be if i cannot even boldly love you? the person who is dearest to me?”
under his sincere gaze and the weight of his words, you allow him this moment of solace
because perhaps, you want it just as much as he does
“okay, i’ll be your princess,” you breathe out
“forever?”
“forever”
that night, it is just you and mingi - no titles that separate your world from his, no looming threat of death - just two people in love
even as an uneasy pit settles at the bottom of mingi’s stomach, a growing feeling that gnaws away at him into the early hours of the next morning
he is startled awake, your expression frightened, and he immediately understands when he hears the thunderous chorus of hooves hitting the ground towards you two
mingi had known there was not much time left, but he did not think that the inevitable confrontation would happen this soon, only mere hours after the soft kiss he had pressed against your forehead
the desperate attempt to escape once more is futile, the royal guards closing the distance within minutes
left with no choice but to stop, you and mingi demount and the guards move to flank you both in a wide semicircle
when the head of the guards, prince eun, saunters forward, mingi matches with a stride of his own so that he can step in front of you
“you killed the crown prince, eun,” mingi spits at his brother
“running and denying your actions up until your very last moments, i see,” prince eun laughs condescendingly. “and you even took a little dog with you, too”
mingi presses you closer to his back, hiding you from the leering gaze of his brother
prince eun smiles smugly at mingi’s reaction, before he takes out a scroll and unravels it
“for high treason of the assassination of the crown prince, the king hereby decrees the immediate revocation of nobility of his third son, song mingi, and for the execution of song mingi and his maid upon sighting.”
you press your nose into mingi’s back, taking one last inhale of his familiar scent
the bowmen all take aim as prince eun sneers, “any last words, brother?”
mingi turns around, and all you can see in that moment are his warm eyes and dimpled cheeks
“i love you, my princess,” he proclaims
“forever,” you reply
he brings his lips down to connect them with yours, drowning out the distinct vibration of loosening strings and the hiss of flying arrows with the roaring symphony in your hearts
you’re unsure what pain swallows you whole first - the pain as an arrowhead sinks into your chest, or the pain as you realise that this is the end of your short-lived love with mingi
you struggle to keep the smile on your face as you lock eyes with mingi, trying to memorise the loving gaze that adorns his own face
you see his mouth moving, but the pain exploding throughout your body is too loud for you to make out his words
with your last breath, you gasp out your final confession, “i love you too, mingi. we’ll meet again in the next life”
as the world starts to fade away, cold creeping into your limbs, you hope that in another story, in another lifetime, you and mingi will be able to find each other again
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wooyoung
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pov: you're the princess of a rival kingdom
“absolutely not, advisor lee,” your mother raises her nose in the air
“your highness, i understand but-”
“oh please, do not flatter yourself, queen cho,” queen jung spits out, “you are not the only one who abhors the idea”
you glare at the prince sitting across from you, your own gazes reflecting the tension in the room
advisor lee has suggested that your family and the jung family host a joint royal ball as a grand display of amity between the two neighbouring kingdoms, particularly between the princess - yourself - and their prince - prince wooyoung
there have been spreading rumours in town of the strained relationship between the two royal families
which aren’t entirely untrue
as a child, the two kingdoms have been loyal and steadfast in their alliance and friendship
in fact, it is not uncommon to find you joining prince wooyoung in his kitchen, begging the chefs to let you two lick the spoons
or to find prince wooyoung squatting next to you in your garden as you both look at the ladybugs
but as power imbalances emerge and political agendas start to diverge, a wedge is driven between your families
the relation is now dangerously close to severing completely, but not without the increasing attention of the towns surrounding the two kingdoms
and one of the last things both royal families need is unease and disunity amongst the commoners
which brings advisor lee to look on with exasperation as he tries to do his job - advise
except neither your mother nor queen jung look ready to accept his advice
your father nods slightly at the two of you, “you are dismissed, as are you, prince wooyoung”
you curtsy as the prince takes a slight bow, before you obnoxiously flick your hair over your shoulder and turn away on your heels
you escape to the garden, knowing that the meeting will take at least another hour before you are required to bid the jung family farewell
except, surprise surprise
who do you run into
you narrow your eyes at prince wooyoung as he steps towards you, who has one eyebrow quirked, “a royal ball, he says?”
“absolutely not,” you fold your arms across your chest
“oh please, do not flatter yourself, princess,” he sneers, not dissimilar to the nasally tone his mother had voiced her dissatisfaction earlier with
neither of you back down, daring the other to say something else
before you two break out into giggles, eyes glittering scandalously
“did you see your mother deliberately pass the salt instead of sugar for the tea?”
“and then the face my mother made when she took a sip of it-”
he pulls you to crouch behind an azalea bush as you both chortle like children, out of sight, before he brings you in for a dizzying kiss 
you sigh, resting a hand on his chest
“do you also abhor the idea of dancing with me, prince wooyoung?” a teasing lilt in your voice
“absolutely,” he nods grimly, “why go to all that effort when there is a much grander and longer-lasting solution?”
“and what is that, my prince?”
he sneaks another chaste kiss from your lips, “for me to take your hand in marriage, my princess”
at his words, your smile dampens
“you know that i would say yes in a heartbeat. it is not i who needs convincing, but our parents”
because despite the growing hostility between your two families, the relationship you share with wooyoung has, ironically, blossomed into one of well-concealed adoration, intimacy and love
you two have come to learn that that one slightly lighter stone on the western side of your kingdom’s outer walls comes loose, and is the perfect size for slipping a piece of paper behind it
you two have also come to learn that every fourth week, if you ask your personal tutor enough questions about the plants laid out on the store’s table in front of you during your scheduled lesson in town, you’ll be able to drag it out long enough for you both to just catch a glimpse of each other as he and his escorts cut through the town on their way back to his kingdom
and of course, you two have come to learn the most isolated spots in your own respective kingdoms, like the second stairwell leading down to the cellar in wooyoung’s palace
and amongst the azalea bushes in the back garden in yours
which is exactly how you knew that he would appear, how you knew that he would give you those sweet kisses you have been craving so desperately 
as wooyoung cups your jaw to kiss you once more, one that leaves you wanting to chase his lips forever, he bets you that it’ll only take two weeks of close-quarter meetings between your royal families before one of your mothers blow up and the ball idea falls through completely
in response, you bet him that they won’t even last two weeks - one at the most
except you’re both wrong
the meeting turns into two, followed by several more as the planning goes ahead
sometimes, the meetings are held in the jung palace
other times, their family journeys to your kingdom instead
one thing that stays constant is the malevolence in the air
the parents are sarcastic snipes and saccharine smiles
and on the surface, you and wooyoung are further extensions of your own parents’ simmering loathing for the other
but under the intricately-carved wooden table, you two are playing footsies, jeweled heels and leather shoes engaged in a playful fight
you see how many times you can slide your heels up along his shin, gradually inching closer towards his inner thigh with each coquettish touch
he has you pass him anything and everything under the guise of forgoing the help of the numerous royal butlers and maids around the room to deliberately irritate you
really, it is to accidentally brush his fingers over your hands; to see the pretty shade of rose that settles over your cheeks and ears as you both try not to break out into giggles
and perhaps, during the meals that may take place during the meetings, there have been a couple of peas flicked at each other here and there when no one is paying attention
(unbeknownst to you two, the maids and butlers alike must hide their own endearing smiles)
the weeks turn into months and you practically have a permanent glow radiating from you, now that you have been seeing the prince so frequently
(which also does not go unnoticed)
as you select a necklace from the assortment of choices to emphasise the plunging neckline of your off-shoulder gown, you wonder how the day of the royal ball has arrived so quickly
your personal maid, jihye, carefully fixes the clasp of the necklace around you before stepping back to let you look in the mirror
you smooth a hand over the soft lavender charmeuse of your dress, nervously looking at jihye
“how do i look?”
“stunning, my princess,” she assures you, before adding, “prince wooyoung will definitely love it”
“prin- he- what? i- sorry?” you say unintelligibly, before you try to salvage the situation by tucking a lock of hair behind your ear as you laugh her off
but jihye just looks at you knowingly
meanwhile, prince wooyoung is already at the grand hall, the jung family having arrived two days prior for the final preparations of the ball
he and his friends, princes from kingdoms located further up north and towards the east, are lingering around one of the tables decorated with flower arrangements and elaborate candle holders, ignoring the longing glances of other attendees, women and men alike, thrown at their striking posse
wooyoung is trying to keep his gaze subtle, scanning the vast number of people at the ball without craning or turning his head, searching for one particular face
yours
prince yeosang nudges the others, jerking his chin to motion towards the distracted wooyoung
when wooyoung finally realises he isn’t as subtle as he thinks, all his friends are already looking at him with varying degrees of smirks
“just know that if there were not so many people here,” wooyoung begins with a pleasant smile, “i would flip you all off right now”
before he can try stepping on his friends’ toes in the form of petty revenge, prince seonghwa points towards the entrance as his smile grows impossibly wider
“look”
wooyoung turns around
and like any typical man who is head over heels in love, the world around him slows down
the gushing whispers spreading throughout the ballroom fade into the background
because finally, there you are, gracefully stepping past the threshold of the arched doorway in all your alluring beauty, accentuated by the way your curled locks and flowing gown frame your body
for the briefest moment, you lock eyes with him, and wooyoung feels his brain shutting down on him
“you’re going to catch a fly in your mouth, woo”
“pick up your jaw. it’s on the ground”
prince yunho pretends to dab wooyoung’s mouth with the ruffled sleeves of his cream shirt, “you’re drooling, darling”
at that, wooyoung smacks his lips dazedly before coming to a moment of realisation, blinking hard twice to bring himself back to reality
“god, you’re hopeless. just go up and talk to her,” prince hongjoong snickers. “the whole point of this ball is to show off how ‘close’ your families are anyway”
wooyoung grumbles that he knows, he’s just looking for the right timing
which, unfortunately, does not seem to come
you spend what feels like the next two hours being whisked around, feigning polite interest as you are forced to engage in dull and bland conversations with numerous men of differing royal statuses, all of whom are no doubt trying to make an impression on you in hopes of becoming a potential suitor in the future
not that you have eyes for anyone apart from the one who already has your heart
the very same person who is currently fed up with watching you converse and let your hands be kissed by men who are not him
even if he knows you are pretending, he thinks that you sure are damn good at giggling at all the right times
you are trying not to let your smile turn into a grimace as the older-aged man, lord ryu you think, boasts of his wealth to you, when wooyoung enters your peripheral vision
“princess, lord ryu,” he greets you both, before looking down at the latter, “pardon me as i take the princess for a dance”
lord ryu, visibly irked but unable to say anything to the prince of significantly higher status, lets go of your hand to step back into a bow, “of course, prince wooyoung”
you giggle, this time genuinely, as wooyoung takes your hand to gently lead you towards the center of the ballroom, where several others are starting to waltz to the soft music that is now playing
you rest a hand just below his shoulder, feeling the sturdiness of his muscles flexing beneath his shirt, as he places his other hand to settle on the dip of your waist
a little possessively, you might add
“you look beautiful today,” he murmurs lowly, away from any prying ears
“only today?” you quirk an eyebrow teasingly
his voice drops down an octave, “well it’s not every day that i can tell you, princess”
wooyoung’s eyes flicker down hungrily to look at your lips
you run your tongue slowly over your bottom lip, knowing it will drive him absolutely crazy that he cannot just take you right there and then in front of everybody
and you can see the moment his resolve snaps
“meet me for some fresh air in ten,” bringing his lips as close to the shell of your ear as he dares
and then he’s gone
you become progressively antsy as you wait out a generous amount of time after he leaves for you to also slip away from the ballroom
wooyoung pins you against a pillar as soon as you emerge in the garden, aching to kiss you and fight for dominance until you’re both breathless and light-headed
“you don’t know how desperately i wanted to kiss you in front of everyone - let the whole world know that you’re mine,” he nips at your bottom lip
you rest your hands on his chest, fingers curled around the pleated front of his satin shirt to hold yourself steady as he turns your lips into an artwork of swollen cherry reds
he tilts your head back a little more, your mouths moving in tandem, soft moans drawn out of you, when-
“what in god’s name is going on?”
you and wooyoung startle apart at the shriek
the blush dusting your faces pale almost immediately at the sight of not just your mother, but also queen jung and a few of the royal staff
it’s kind of amusing that of all things for the two queens to have the same mindset about, it is the discovery of you and wooyoung’s secret relationship that unites them, both sharing twin expressions of horror and revulsion
you’re ripped from each other’s arms as you are forced back into the confines of your bed chamber, royal ball long forgotten
your only solace is learned later that night, when jihye brings a trolley of food you have no appetite for, that the jung family have not yet returned to their kingdom
they are still in your palace somewhere
yet that does little to soothe your tears, overwhelmed by the drastic turn of events, and you do not know when you fall asleep that night
all you know is that it is to a bed too cold and a longing in your heart too gaping to ignore
“princess,” you look up to see jihye standing at your door the next morning, almost apologetic, “the king and queen request for your presence in the throne room”
as you approach the room after tidying your appearance, your breath hitches when you spot him just by the double doors
you barrel forwards into his waiting arms, uncaring of the staff following behind you
not that they have the heart to stop you either way
“i thought you would have been forced to leave,” you blurt, unable to believe that wooyoung is right in front of you
“i’m still here,” he chuckles. “i have been summoned by your parents”
your heart drops down to your stomach at his words as you realise what this meeting is about
“and i am glad they did, princess,” wooyoung is quick to interject before your apology makes it past the tip of your tongue. “i am going to ask for your hand in marriage. officially”
“what if they banish us from ever seeing each other again?” worry overwhelms you as your breathing quickens
wooyoung gently laces his fingers through yours, bringing up his other hand to cup your face and run his thumb comfortingly over the curve of your cheekbone to keep you grounded
“no matter what happens today, no matter what the outcome is,” he looks at you with the fierce determination of a man ready to give up anything and everything for your sake, “i will never ever stop fighting for you”
he presses his soft lips against yours
“for us,” he vows
your breathing evens out, and while your heartbeat still pounds inside your ribcage, you know that it marches in rhythm with the man in front of you
this time, not afraid to appear in front of the rulers of your kingdoms - your parents - you and wooyoung nod in reassurance at each other once more, hand in hand, before you both push the doors to the throne room open
together.
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jongho
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pov: you're under his protection as your royal guard
over the din of volunteered names in the meeting room, jongho steps forward
“your majesty, i will accompany the princess,” he declares
“choi jongho?” your father scans him up and down with regard before nodding in approval, “it is decided then”
“him? surely i need another person with me as well?” you protest
your father quirks an eyebrow at you, a subtle reminder that whilst he is your father, he is also the king
“no, you will need to travel in disguise and stay as discreet as possible. only jongho will accompany you as your royal guard”
your father looks away and starts to address the next item on the meeting agenda; it is quite clear there is no room for argument
meanwhile, jongho sidles up to you
“you trying to catch bugs or something? close your mouth, princess,” he teases under his breath
you nudge him with an elbow, “you’re the only bug i see around here”
he rolls his eyes but you both snicker in unison when one of your older sisters turns around to shush you with a dirty look
regardless, you stay silent for the rest of the meeting
you’re not sure why jongho stepped forward to take on this task
because for someone who is your main royal guard and is supposed to be loyal and obedient, he sure makes it clear that his job is about as gratifying as babysitting
(“you can’t talk to me like that. i’m the princess”)
(“no, you’re not. you’re an idiot”)
in fact, when you had been notified a few days prior that you would be traveling with one other royal guard - who had yet to be decided at the time - jongho had spent every single day gloating that he would finally get a break from babysitting you
and yet here he is
with the opportunity to hand you off to somebody else
but instead, baring his teeth at the other guards who offer themselves up for this scouting mission
he would never admit to it either, but jongho personally spoke to the king years ago about being rostered on as your main bodyguard since he’s “known the princess for the longest and so i can protect her the best”
you don’t want to travel to the border
you’re in charge of maintaining security and defense along your borders and with neighbouring kingdoms, usually dealing with complications remotely through the ministers and advisors who work for you
this time though, there has been recent unrest near the southern borders of your kingdom near denport, a city notorious for bandits and fugitives
the situation has worsened with increased risk of bloodshed, thus has the need for you to survey the borders in person
and as the youngest sibling of five, the king has made it very clear that this is your opportunity to prove your capabilities
jongho makes sure to remind you of this fact when you grumble your way through packing a satchel of essential items to take with you
(“your fluffy slippers are not essential, princess”)
(you listen and throw them back onto the floor of your bedchambers, but stuff in a few paperweights when he isn’t looking out of petty revenge because you know he’ll end up carrying your bag for you later when you ask him to)
it’s a relatively long journey to denport, so as soon as you are ready, jongho having long finished packing his own bag, you leave your kingdom with him at your side
by the time the sun is starting to set later that day, you’re passing through a small town
he suggests calling it a night and recuperating at one of the inns
you wait while he inquires about available rooms and then follow him through a small alleyway to the inn that he has chosen for the night
you take all but one look at the rotting wood and creaking sign at the entrance before you are crossing your arms like a petulant child
“there’s no way i’m staying the night in this sorry excuse of an inn”
he merely blinks
“you’re technically not the princess right now so you better listen to me or god help me, i’ll-”
“you’ll what,” you challenge, nose-to-nose
or nose-to-throat, you suppose
but before you can dwell any further on your height difference, jongho picks you up, slings you over his shoulder like you are nothing more than a sack of potatoes, and walks into the inn without a care in the world that you are screaming bloody murder
you resign to your fate and flop uselessly against his back as he carries you up the stairs
instead, when he throws you onto the bed upon entering the room, you look up at him sultrily and smirk, “ooh, now i’m turned on”
jongho shakes his head with exasperation but you don’t miss the redness that is creeping up the back of his neck as he turns around to close the door shut
“wait,” you sit up on the bed, “we’re sharing a room?”
“it’s safer. i’ll sleep on the sofa”
you scrunch your nose at the arrangement, but you do admittedly feel a little more at ease in the unfamiliar room of the inn
you start to take a shoe off before a thought flits through your mind and you point the shoe in your hand at him like a weapon, “you better not snore”
jongho rolls his eyes as he steps forward to take the shoe out of your hand, and then he is bending down to help slip off the shoe from your other foot
a thank you lies on the tip of your tongue
“you’re the only snorer in this room, princess”
nevermind.
it’s gone.
you’re settled in bed, waiting for jongho to finish washing up and turn off the lights, when you spot it
holy shit
your immediate reaction is to seek his protection
“jongho!”
the door to the bathroom swings open almost immediately as he rushes out, eyes alarmed, alert, and zeroing onto you
water drips off the ends of his hair and you can still spot suds on his exposed torso
“what’s wrong? are you okay? are you hurt?” his voice is laced with restrained panic
you point to the corner of the room and then he sees it too
his body stiffens completely
because, mere metres from the two of you, presence sinister and dangerous…
is a fucking spider
all is quiet and still for a while, your eyes flickering back and forth between your royal guard and the spider in a tense standoff
then, just as you are about to speak up, jongho grabs his bag and swiftly turns on his heels to head towards the room’s door
“where are you going?!” you shriek
he looks at you forlornly from over his shoulder, “to prepare for my execution”
“what the fuck are you on about, jongho?”
“for abandoning my duties and failing to protect you. farewell, princess. you are on your own from here-”
his sentence is cut short as the spider scuttles towards him
and that is how you two, disguised, but still a royal princess and royal guard no less, are given an eviction warning because he streaked through the corridors of the inn half naked and screaming at the top of his lungs
needless to say, the innkeeper ends up having to remove the spider for the two of you
“you’re so embarrassing,” you whisper to him once you two are finally settled in bed and on the sofa
“no, i’m jongho,” he cackles
you don’t humour him with a response, but you know he snickers himself to sleep that night
you can’t help but let the corner of your lips tug up as well
a few days later after leaving the town, you two are resting side by side against a tree trunk when you decide to grace jongho with the opportunity to redeem himself
he’s currently halving a sandwich so you two can share
“if i were trapped in a forest full of spiders and you were the only person who could save me,” you ask gravely, “what would you do?”
without missing a beat, he replies, “prepare to grieve your death and make sure your pet cat is well fed in your honour”
he passes you the bigger sandwich as you turn to look at him with the most scandalised expression
“can you at least pretend to think for a bit?” you grumble
there’s a hint of a smile on jongho’s face when he apologises, “okay, sorry. ask me again”
you hit him with a different scenario this time
“if you had to fight a giant spider who had taken me hostage, what would you do?”
he hums thoughtfully for a few seconds, unscrewing a canteen of water for you and placing it by your side
“i would say, she is all yours, your spidery majesty, and then i would bow and walk away”
“fuck you,” you shove him good-naturedly with your shoulder
he swipes the canteen before you can knock it over and presses it into your smaller hand instead, giving it a quick pat as he dismisses your insult, “sure, if you think you can handle my dick”
“like they say,” you waggle your eyebrows at him as your voice drops down lower, “practice makes perfect”
jongho’s stoic facade finally cracks when you lean in closer and he hurries to stand up and put some distance between you and him
he shifts his legs subtly, clearing his throat to say, “we should go, denport is close”
when you’ve finished off the last of your sandwich, you dust off your fingers and grab jongho’s offered hand to stand up too
“let’s go”
one thing you have both noticed is that the closer you get to the border between your kingdom and denport, the quieter and thicker the atmosphere seems to get
the small towns you pass through have less people roaming around; in fact, most people seem to flee back into the refuge of their own houses, locking their doors and closing their windows when they catch sight of your pair
and then it happens
your plan goes awry
you and jongho are harshly awoken by a commotion outside the small room you have rented for the night
there’s a sickening smell accompanied by wails of grief in the air
when you rush outside, all you can see is a huge crowd of people gathered and your ears strain to pick up on the broken hushes of information being thrown around
“his son is lucky to have been spared”
“lucky to have seen his father slaughtered by bandits?”
“i heard it wasn’t money that they were after, though”
“those damned denport devils are up to something”
that’s all you pick up on before jongho snatches your arm and leads you back into the inn, telling you that it’s too dangerous to be out there; too dangerous for you two to continue traveling
which leads to the very first argument you ever have with him
you two butt heads all the time with your own fiery fronts and hardheadedness but more often than not, he yields to you
you’re facing him in the dim room - it is shadier than that first inn you two made a stop at weeks ago, but you’re both sharing one room just like you two have done at every single inn since
“we need to go check it out!” you shout at him
jongho takes a shaky breath as he tries to keep his voice even, “no, we should go back to our kingdom, report on the situation and call for backup!”
you throw your hands up into the air, “we’re already here - we’re basically at denport! what if something blows up soon? it might be too late by the time we go back”
jongho steps in closer as his eyes narrow
you don’t cower because you know he would never hurt you, but you do step backwards because you don’t think you can keep a clear head when he is standing so close to you, proximity dizzying like the buzz of alcohol
“of all times for you to play hero and do something that you weren’t asked to, why now? why put yourself in danger?”
your back hits the wall as jongho corners you
your chest heaves, as does his, both of you overwhelmed with emotions
he holds your gaze but his eyes are rounded with agony and distress
you don’t understand why he is so against your decision
you don’t know what to say, until your eyes flicker down involuntarily at the movement of his lips parting to exhale-
“damn, jongho, your lips are real chapped. you should use some of my lip balm”
he blinks hard at the absurdity of what you chose to say
he looks at your lips
he makes a decision
“then give me some of yours,” he says, a little breathless
and then he’s pressing his chapped lips against your smooth ones, the taste of coconut filling your mouth as your lip balm smears
suddenly, he pulls back with the audacity to look shocked as if you are the one who kissed him
and then he leaves the room without another word
he doesn’t return that night and you don’t manage to sleep either
you wonder when you started becoming used to falling asleep with him in the same room
jongho clears his throat awkwardly when you open the door in the morning and find him leaning against the wall just by the doorframe
you’re not sure whether he came back not too long ago from god knows where, or whether he was actually standing guard outside all night
you think you know which one it is, even if he doesn’t confirm it
“we’re checking out,” he mumbles, shuffling briskly into the room to grab his few belongings he had left and exiting the room again with you trailing behind
neither of you say much more to each other
you think that he’s going to lead you back the way you two came, lead you back and undo the weeks’ worth of journeying and go back to the castle
but then he’s sighing, deep and burdened, and he gently takes your hand to continue on towards denport
he’s never held your hand before
not like this, at least, tenderly tugging you along with every step so that you are no more than a few inches away from his side
you want to bicker with him and chortle together like usual but you keep quiet, giving him the space that he appears to need even if he is physically ensuring you are tucked right into his side
you two walk until the sun has dipped below the horizon
from what you know, you are right along the southern border and denport will only be another half day’s walk away
jongho makes a small bonfire before he joins you to lean against a fallen log
he shimmies off his coat and drapes it over your legs and then the forest also settles into silence along with you both
it’s now or never
“why are you so against us going to the border?” you ask him
he runs his fingers through his hair
an unruly tuft of hair stays upright and you fold your arms to stop yourself from reaching out and smoothening it for him
he looks at you as he says, “i’m fine with me going to the border, it’s you i’m not fine with. you do remember that i’m your royal guard, right”
“is that all there is to your reason,” you push, “that you’re my guard?”
you both know you’re referring to more than just the argument itself
jongho’s gaze breaks away, looking ahead at the flames of the fire instead
he is silent
for once, jongho is unarmed; no immediate snark or teasing remark to toss back at you
you hear him swallow and take a breath
“i…i don’t know,” he starts. “all i know is that with each passing day, the more i want to keep you safe”
jongho looks at you again, eyebrows drawn down ever so slightly
“why do you make me feel so worried?”
at his words, your heart clenches in an unfamiliar way and you attempt to lighten the mood, “maybe you like me”
“maybe i do”
oh.
with the reflection of the fire dancing in his eyes, it almost looks as though he is about to cry
“please, don’t go to the border, princess,” he begs softly
his plea remains unwavering and you find your heart doing the exact opposite
after a few seconds of silence, you say
“okay, jongho. i won’t”
the tension from his shoulders seeps out and he gently tugs you towards him so he can tuck you into his side once again
“you promise that we turn around and go back tomorrow morning?”
you nod against the warmth of the crook of his neck, then murmur, “do you think father will be disappointed in me? for returning?”
he rubs a hand up and down your arm soothingly
“of course not, princess. you’ve already done so much more than you needed to. he’ll be proud of you”
and then he adds on, “just like i’m proud of you”
this is the first time anyone has ever really validated your efforts; being the youngest of a large family means you are often overshadowed
caught off guard, all you can do is whisper out, “thank you, jongho”
he hums and you feel his smile against the crown of your head
you’ve never been drunk before, but you think that this is the closest you have ever gotten
you are intoxicated by him
“if you’re thankful,” the rumble of jongho’s voice against your cheek is pleasant, “can i ask for something?”
“whatever you want”
he eases you from the comfort of his neck and tilts your chin up slightly with a finger, cheeky grin plastered across his face
“can i have some more of your lip balm?”
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v6quewrlds · 2 months ago
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❝ my little love, j. burrow. ❞  ‎ ‎ ┉  
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‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀summary: the afc championship game is around the corner. thankfully amara burrow is more than happy to make sure her daddy is ready to bring it home.
‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀author's note: a little game dey fic based on an anon request for good luck. might make this a series possibly bc i'm in love with this concept <333 ty anon for requesting!!
‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀warnings: mostly fluff and an adorable toddler. joe's a little out of character but pls let me be a little delusional.
‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀pairing: joe burrow x wife!reader.
‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀word count: 4.5k.
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The morning light painted the room a soft shade of gold as your eyes slowly opened to the sound of Joe's quiet footsteps. His honey-blonde hair was still damp from the shower, and you felt a pang of loss as his body heat retreated from your shared space. You watched him from the bed, his strong arms moving with the ease of routine as he pulled on his clothes. His Bengals hoodie hung from the chair, a silent reminder of the day ahead.
"You're leaving already?" you mumbled, your voice thick with sleep.
Joe looked up from tying his shoes, a warm smile playing on his lips. "Got to get to the stadium, babe." He walked over to the bed, planted a kiss on your forehead, and whispered, "Early morning practice before the game tonight."
You sat up, your heart racing as you realized the significance of the day. "It's AFC Championship day," you murmured softly, your lips pulling into a lazy smile. "Amara's going to be so disappointed she slept through your send-off."
Joe chuckled and leaned over to kiss you again, this time his lips lingered on yours. "It's okay. She'll probably be asleep for another few hours." He glanced at the clock on the nightstand. "But I'd better get going." He turned to leave, but your hand shot out, grabbing his arm.
"Can I make you some breakfast?" you offered, pushing yourself up on your elbows. "Just something quick?"
He looked at you with affectionate amusement. "Nah, I've got it covered. You just rest up. Enjoy your day off, baby." With that, he stood up to his full height.
His blonde head turning to look at the door as it cracked open. Amara's curly hair appeared first, then her sleepy eyes peeked through the gap. She looked around the room, her gaze finally landing on her dad. "Daddy," she whimpered, her voice barely above a whisper.
Joe's smile grew wider as he crouched down to scoop her up in his arms. "Hey, baby girl," he greeted. Amara giggled, her cheeks pink with the excitement of being woken by a surprise. She snuggled into his embrace, her small arms wrapping around his neck.
"Why are you leaving?" Amara asked sleepily, her voice muffled against Joe's chest.
"I've got a big game today remember, pumpkin?" Joe replied, his voice gentle. "But I'll be back after practice to get ready for the game with you and Mommy, okay?"
Amara nodded, her eyes half-closed as she drifted back to sleep in her father's arms. You watched them with a mix of love and amusement. "Looks like she's not going anywhere," you said with a chuckle. "Let's get her back to bed before she decides she wants to come to practice too."
Joe carefully laid Amara back on the bed, her curly hair fanning out around her on the pillow. He kissed her forehead before standing up. "Alright, I'll be back soon. You stay here with Mommy," he whispered.
You watched him go, feeling a mix of pride and a hint of sadness as he disappeared from the doorway. You knew this was his moment, and you were determined to make sure everything was perfect for him. After a few minutes of cuddling Amara back to sleep, you slipped back into your own slumber. The warmth of your daughter's body and the quiet whispers of the morning lulling you into a peaceful doze.
When you woke up, the sun had climbed higher in the sky, casting bright beams through the windows. Amara was playing quietly with the edge of the bedspread, her eyes glued to the side of your sleeping face. You kissed her forehead, "Good morning, sunshine," you murmured. "Daddy has his big game tonight, remember?"
Amara's eyes lit up, and she nodded vigorously. "I'm going to help him win," she announced.
You chuckled, "Well, you've got to get ready for the game too, baby girl. Let's go brush your teeth and get dressed." You picked up your daughter, who was now fully awake, and carried her to the bathroom. The smell of minty toothpaste filled the air as you bent over the sink, supporting Amara's little frame as she brushed her teeth herself. Afterward, you made your way back downstairs to find a surprise waiting for you: two plates of steaming pancakes with a side of cut and washed strawberries and a sticky note that read, "For my two favorite girls."
"Look what Daddy made us," you exclaimed, pointing to the breakfast spread.
Amara's eyes grew wide with excitement. "Can I have syrup?" she asked, her voice tinged with hope.
"Of course, you can, honey," you said, pouring a little pool of syrup onto your daughter's plate. "But not too much, okay?"
You sat down at the kitchen table, the pancakes steaming up the windows. You took a bite of yours, savoring the sweetness that Joe had managed to capture perfectly despite his rush. You could almost taste the love he'd put into it. As you ate, Amara chattered away, her excitement for the game contagious.
Once breakfast was done, it was time to get ready. You washed and detangled Amara's curls, applying a generous amount of coconut-scented conditioner. The scent filled the bathroom, mixing with the humidity from the hot water. Most days it was a struggle to get Amara to sit still for hair brushing, but today she was surprisingly patient as you worked through her curls. The TV played the pregame show in the background, with the sounds of commentators and cheers from distant crowds setting the atmosphere.
"Mommy, can I wear my special shirt today?" Amara asked, her eyes shining with excitement.
"Of course," you responded, referring to her tiny, custom-made rhinestone jersey that read 'Daddy's MVP' in glittering letters. It was a miniature version of Joe's home game attire, and Amara absolutely adored it. He had it made for her third birthday months in advance, and it had been a staple of her wardrobe during the football season.
The two of you sat in comfortable silence as you continued working through the curls, your fingers moving with practiced ease. You couldn't help but feel a sense of peace wash over you. Despite the excitement of the day ahead, there was something so grounding about these quiet moments with your daughter.
As you worked, the jiggle of the doorbell echoed through the house. "Who's that?" You gasped dramatically, knowing full well that your husband had returned from practice.
"It's Daddy!" Amara shouted, jumping off the chair and sprinting towards the door.
You couldn't help but laugh as you followed her daughter, calling after her, "You know you can't just run off like that, young lady!" But the sound of Joe's laughter as he walked through the front door told you he didn't mind. When the two of you entered the living room, Joe was there, freshly showered and dressed in a casual outfit. His eyes lit up at the sight of you, and he scooped Amara up, twirling her around until she squealed with delight.
"Are you getting ready for the game?" Joe asked Amara as he set her back down, his eyes sparkling with excitement.
"Yes!" Amara exclaimed, bouncing in his arms. "Mommy's doing my hair right now." She pointed to the chair you decided to carry with you downstairs. You had learned the hard way that once her father was home, it would be hard to get Amara away from him.
Joe's eyes met yours, and you could see the warmth and love in them. "You're doing a great job," he said, planting a kiss on Amara's forehead. "Why don't you finish up with Mommy and then you can help me get ready?"
You nodded, "Let's get those curls looking perfect for the game." You sat back down with Amara on your lap, continuing the meticulous task of styling her hair. The sound of the TV grew louder as the commentators discussed the upcoming matchup. The excitement was palpable, and even you felt a thrill of anticipation.
While you worked your magic with Amara's hair, Joe took a seat on the couch, his eyes glued to the screen. His gaze would occasionally drift to the two of you, a soft smile playing on his lips. Despite the nerves that were surely bubbling beneath the surface, he looked relaxed and at peace. You knew that seeing his family happy brought him comfort, a nonverbal pep talk before the battle ahead.
As you patted her head to signal she was done, Amara looked up at you with wide eyes. "Done?" She asked, her voice filled with excitement. You nodded, and Joe hit the pause button on the TV. "So, Coach," Joe began, gaining Amara's attention as she skipped over to him. "You gonna help me watch film?"
Amara nodded excitedly, her head bobbing up and down as if she were at an interview. You watched them with a warm smile, the love in Joe's eyes for their daughter was something you never got tired of seeing. As Joe carried Amara upstairs to his office, you took a moment to appreciate the quiet house. You knew that once your in-laws arrived, the calmness would be replaced with the buzz of pregame energy.
Your phone vibrated with a text from Robin, Joe's mom. "Be there in 20!" it read. 
You hurried upstairs to finish your own makeup and hair. You had decided to go with a sleek bun, throwing on your 'Burrow' jersey and slipping on a pair of leggings just until Joe's parents arrived. As you applied a coat of mascara, you heard the doorbell ring.
Rushing downstairs, you threw open the door to find Robin and Jimmy standing there with arms full of Amara's favorite snacks and juice boxes. "We come bearing gifts," Jimmy said with a wink.
"Thanks," you said, taking the boxes from them and setting it on the kitchen counter. "Amara's upstairs with Joe, watching some last-minute game film."
Robin and Jimmy exchanged surprised glances. "On game day?" Robin asked, raising an eyebrow. "That's new."
"Amara's the only one who can get him to break his routine," you said with a chuckle. "I'm married to the man and I'm not even allowed in there on game days. Forget the day of the AFC Championship."
Robin laughed as she set down her bag and looked around for somewhere to sit. "Well, she's definitely her daddy's little girl."
"You have no idea," you said, rolling your eyes playfully. "But it's cute. And honestly, it keeps her out of my hair so I can get ready in peace."
You all shared a laugh, the tension of the impending game momentarily forgotten in the warmth of your family dynamic. Jimmy leaned against the kitchen counter, his eyes gleaming with pride. "It's good to see him loosen up a bit. The game's going to be intense enough."
You nodded in agreement, your eyes flickering to the stairs where you could hear Joe's low voice explaining plays to Amara. "You guys grab whatever you want," you offered, gesturing to the fridge. "I'm just going to go get dressed properly."
In the bedroom, you were surprised by the sight of your daughter, now dressed in her rhinestone jersey and sitting cross-legged on your bed. She had her dad's playbook open in front of her, her little hands tracing over the diagrams with a serious expression.
"Where's your player, Coach?" You asked with a smile, stepping into the room.
Amara looked up at you with a grin that was all Joe. "He's getting ready," she replied, her eyes bright with excitement. You couldn't help but feel a swell of pride at your daughter's enthusiasm. You quickly changed into your own game day outfit, swapping your leggings for straight-leg jeans and low top Jordans that matched Joe’s cleats.
As you finished up your makeup, Joe emerged dressed to perfection in his game day outfit. He picked up Amara, who squealed with delight as she was swept into his arms. "What do you think, Coach?"
Amara studied him intently, her eyes roving over his outfit and the matching shoes. "You look like a winner, Daddy," she declared with the confidence of someone who had never seen him lose.
Joe chuckled, his eyes shining. "Thanks, Coach." He leaned over and kissed you. "You too, beautiful."
Your cheeks heated up with a mix of love and excitement. You had picked out the perfect outfit to match your daughter's jersey. The three of you made quite the trio: Joe in his tailored outfit, you in your jersey, and Amara in her mini-me version of Joe's game day look.
You made your way to the stadium, the energy in the air electric. Fans in black and orange jerseys lined the streets, their chants echoing off the buildings. The anticipation grew stronger as you approached Paycor Stadium, the towering structure a beacon of hope for a victory that would take the Bengals to the Super Bowl.
As you walked through the tunnel leading to the sidelines, you felt your heart pounding in your chest. This wasn't just any game; this was the AFC Championship. You held Amara's hand tightly, her eyes scanning the field as Joe went to join his team. The players warmed up, their movements an anxious show of power, each one focused on the task at hand.
Amara's grip grew tighter as she finally spotted her uncles, Joe's teammates, and friends, Ja'Marr and Tee. "Look, Mommy, there's Uncle Tee and Uncle Ja'Marr!" she squealed, pointing. You laughed and nodded, your eyes finding the two men who looked over and waved. They broke away from their warm-up routine to come say hello, their smiles wide as they approached the little girl in the sparkling 'Daddy' jersey.
"Look who we have here," Tee said, bending down to give Amara a high five. "Little Miss MVP herself."
Ja'Marr chuckled, ruffling her curls. "You ready to help us win today, Coach?"
"Yes!" Amara exclaimed, her eyes shining with excitement.
"That's what I like to hear, Coach," Joe said, coming up behind his teammates, his eyes crinkling with pride as he looked at Amara. "You two keep the good vibes coming, okay?" He kissed you and Amara on the cheek.
"You got any tips for us, Coach?" Tee asked, playfully bumping fists with Amara.
Amara nodded solemnly. "You gotta catch the ball, Uncle Tee," she said, her arms resting on her hips. The spitting image of her father's mannerisms.
"Just me?" Tee feigned shock, his smile growing wider. "What about Ja'Marr?"
Amara giggled, her eyes shifting to the other player. "You too, Uncle Ja'Marr. You gotta run really fast!"
The two men laughed, their ease a testament to their years playing together. "We'll keep that in mind," Joe said, hoisting Amara up and spinning her around. She squealed with delight, and you felt a warmth spread through your chest, watching the love between your husband and daughter.
After a few more minutes of conversation with the teammates, Joe set Amara down and kissed her cheek. "I got to go, pumpkin. But I'll see you after the game, okay?"
"Good luck, Daddy!" Amara shouted as Joe jogged back to the field, her voice carrying over the noise of the growing crowd.
You took a deep breath, your eyes following your husband until he disappeared into the sea of players. Then you turned your attention to your daughter, who was now bouncing up and down with excitement. "Come on, let's get to our seats so we can watch Daddy play," you said, taking Amara's hand and leading her through the bustling corridors of the stadium.
The two of you made your way to the luxury suite reserved for the families of the Bengals' players. The walls were adorned with photos of past games and memorabilia, differing from the chaotic energy outside. The suite was filled with other families, their laughter and excitement creating an infectious buzz.
You and Amara found your seats, the plush couches offering a cozy spot to join Joe's parents. The view was breathtaking, the field stretching out before you like a green canvas waiting for history to be painted upon it. As you settled in, your phone buzzed with a text from your sister, asking if you had arrived and if you had seen Joe yet. You replied with a photo of Amara in her jersey, her cheeks rosy from the excitement, and a thumbs up.
The game kicked off, and the roar of the crowd filled the stadium. The players on the field were mere dots of color moving swiftly, their movements precise and powerful. Each play was met with cheers or gasps from the spectators, and even Amara, with her limited understanding of the sport, knew to clap when the crowd did. You held your breath every time Joe took the field, your heart racing in sync with the clock. The tension in the suite grew with every pass thrown, every tackle made.
Throughout the game, Amara remained glued to your side, her eyes rarely leaving the screens broadcasting the action. She munched on her snacks, sipped her juice, and whispered questions about the game that you did your best to answer. Despite the excitement, you noticed her daughter's eyelids growing heavy. The excitement of the day was taking its toll, and the warmth of the suite only added to her sleepiness.
As the fourth quarter approached, the game grew tense. The score was close, and every play could be the deciding factor. You held your breath, your heart in your throat. The other families in the suite mirrored your anxiety, your faces a mix of hope and fear. The air was thick with anticipation, the only sounds the occasional murmur of a prayer or a shout of encouragement for the players on the field.
Amara leaned heavily against you, her eyes drooping. You knew it was only a matter of time before your little girl succumbed to the call of slumber. You cuddled her closer, whispering reassurances that Joe and his team would pull through.
On the field, Joe played with a fiery determination that was palpable even from their lofty perch. Each pass thrown, each yard gained, brought them one step closer to victory. The clock ticked down, each second feeling like an eternity. With less than five minutes left, the Bengals were 2nd and goal, the crowd anxious with anticipation.
Amara's eyes fluttered closed, lulled by the steady rhythm of the game and the warmth of your embrace. You held her tightly, whispering words of encouragement to Joe through the glass, as if he could hear her. You watched as Joe took the final snap, his eyes scanning the field, his body poised and ready. The crowd held their breath as Joe threw a Hail Mary pass, the ball soaring through the air with practiced precision. It was caught by Joe's favorite target, Ja'Marr, in the end zone, sealing the Bengals' win.
The suite erupted in cheers, the sound deafening as confetti rained from the ceiling. Amara stirred in her sleep, mumbling something incoherent. You felt a mix of relief and elation as the scoreboard flashed in victory. They were going to the Super Bowl. The final whistle blew, and the players on the field hugged and high-fived, their faces a blend of exhaustion and triumph.
You made your way down to the area outside of the locker rooms. Amara's head resting on your shoulder, sleeping peacefully. As Joe emerged from the lockers, his eyes searched the suite until they found your eyes. He waved, a grin stretching across his face. You felt a surge of love and pride as you returned the gesture, your voice lost in the mess of the crowd. The other players dispersed to their families, but Joe's gaze remained fixed on you. He made his way over, dodging well-wishers and reporters.
When he reached you, he leaned in to give you a kiss. "We're goin' to the Super Bowl, baby," he whispered, his voice hoarse from shouting on the field.
Your eyes shone with unshed tears. "I'm so proud of you," you murmured, your voice thick with emotion.
Joe's grin grew wider as he turned to Amara, whose eyes had snapped open at the sound of her father's voice. "Did you win, Daddy?" she asked, her sleepiness forgotten.
"We did, baby girl," Joe said, scooping her up in his arms. He held her close, the joy of the moment reflected in both their faces. "Couldn't have done it without your help, Coach."
Amara giggled, her tiny hands clapping together excitedly. "I'm proud of you, Daddy," she said, her voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt. Your heart swelled with love as you watched them, feeling the warmth of their bond.
As Joe started to transfer her back to you and walk towards the podium for his post-game press conference, Amara tugged on his arm. "Can I go with you?" she asked, her eyes hopeful.
You looked at Joe, a hint of uncertainty in your gaze. "It's okay," Joe assured you, setting Amara down. "Let's go, Coach." He took his daughter's hand, and she beamed up at him.
The press conference room was a whirlwind of flashing cameras and eager reporters. Joe sat down at the podium, and Amara climbed into his lap. She looked around at the unfamiliar faces with wide eyes, but she remained still and silent, as if she understood the gravity of the situation. You took a spot at the back of the room, your heart beating a little faster than normal. You knew your daughter was a little star, but you didn't want to steal the spotlight from your husband's moment of triumph.
As Joe fielded questions about the game-winning play and his thoughts on heading to the Super Bowl, Amara studied the microphones and notebooks with curiosity. Her tiny hand rested on her father's forearm, her thumb tracing patterns on the fabric of his shirt. The room was still but you could see the way Joe's gaze kept flickering down to your daughter, a silent reassurance passing between them.
When the questions shifted to Joe's family life and how they supported him, he didn't miss a beat. "They're everything," he said, his voice earnest. "My wife, she's my rock. And my little coach here," he leaned down to poke at Amara's tummy, "Keeps me on my toes." The room melted at the sight of the quarterback with his daughter, and a round of 'awes' echoed through the room.
Amara, sensing the shift in attention, straightened up, giggling as she looked around, a hint of shyness creeping into her expression. She was used to her father's games, but this was new, even for her. She leaned into Joe's side, her thumb returning to her favorite spot on his shirt.
You watched from the back, a proud smile on your face. Your heart swelled as Joe spoke about you, your bond, and your life together. It was a rare moment of vulnerability from your husband, who was usually so focused on the game.
One of the reporters leaned in. "And what does it mean to you, having your daughter here today, watching you play?"
Joe's eyes lit up as he looked down at Amara. "It's incredible. She's my biggest fan and my biggest motivation." He ruffled her hair, and she giggled, looking up at him adoringly. "I want her to know that she can do anything she sets her mind to, just like her mom and me."
The room was silent, the cameras capturing the tender moment. You felt a tear slide down your cheek, and you quickly brushed it away, not wanting to distract from Joe's moment. You knew he meant every word, your family's love and support were what kept him going through every game.
As the press conference came to a close, Joe hoisted Amara up in the air, her giggles filling the room. He turned to the reporters, his smile never faltering. "Alright, that's all I got today. I have to get this one back to her mother."
They made their way back through the crowd, Joe's hand on Amara's back, guiding her through the throng of people. You felt a mix of excitement and fatigue, your body still buzzing from the win. The ride home was a blur of congratulatory texts and calls from friends and family. Honks from passing cars and shouts of "Who Dey!" filled the streets as they drove through the city.
At the house, Robin and Jimmy had already set the table with a spread of Joe's favorite post-game meal: a hearty pasta dish and garlic bread, with a bottle of wine chilling in an ice bucket for later. "We figured you'd be too tired to cook," Robin said, giving you a warm smile.
"You guys are the best," you said, looking over at Amara wrapped in Joe's arms. The little girl yawned and leaned her head on his chest, already nodding off to sleep.
"Let's get her to bed," Joe suggested, his own energy waning. "Thank you so much for this, Mom, Dad. It means a lot."
You took Amara from Joe's arms, cradling her sleeping form against her chest. "No problem," Jimmy said, patting his son on the back. "We're gonna head off to bed. But you two enjoy the rest of the night."
You climbed the stairs, whispering sweet nothings to keep Amara calm as Joe trailed along, his arm slung over your shoulder. In her room, you carefully laid your daughter down on the bed, whispering a final goodnight. Amara's eyes remained closed, her breathing deep and even. Joe leaned over to kiss his daughter's forehead.
"You okay?" You asked, looking into his tired eyes as you finally made your way up to your room after eating and clearing the dishes.
Joe nodded, his smile a bit weary. "Just can't believe we're going to the Super Bowl," he murmured, sitting on the edge of the bed. He stood up and took your hand, pulling you closer into his warm chest. "Thank you for being here, for supporting me through everything."
Your arms wrapped around his neck, heart swelling with love. "And I always will, baby," you said, standing on your toes to kiss his cheek. You felt the weight of the day's excitement slowly start to lift from your shoulders. The quiet of your room, the gentle hum of the city outside your windows, it was all you needed to feel at peace.
You changed into comfortable clothes, Joe slipping into a loose t-shirt and sweatpants while you donned your favorite oversized sweatshirt. You cradled Joe's head on your chest, fingers scratching at his scalp as he drifted in and out of sleep. His breathing grew deep and steady, the tension of the day slowly leaving his body.
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viennakarma · 11 days ago
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Funny Little Girl
Lewis Hamilton x Reader (+ daughter)
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Summary: When Lewis' little girl gets sick while he's away, he starts contemplating.
Word count: 2.4k
Tags: female!reader, husband!Lewis, Dad!Lewis, fluff, little bit hurt/comfort, daughter is sick, Lewis is worried, hospital, not beta read
Relationship: Lewis Hamilton x Reader
Note: I wrote this in a spur of the moment at 2 am last night, no beta we die like men. It was genuinely supposed to be a blurb but my brain took over and ran with it. (Once again in my girl dad!Lewis agenda)
Feedback and comments are appreciated xx
Find me on Twitter!
Lewis was restless.
He hadn’t spoken to you since the morning, and usually, by this time you would’ve already texted him a good morning message or even a silly lazy picture.
He knew, obviously with him being away on a race weekend, it was natural that the time difference stood between you, but this time he wasn’t too far from home, just a few hours ahead, so he found it strange that you hadn’t texted him yet. He left a couple messages for you again, but they were only delivered. He tried to call once but it rang and you never picked up.
Then an hour or so later, when he was in the middle of a meeting, he got a call from you, a FaceTime call. Worried, he immediately interrupted the meeting, asking for a ten minute break and scurried off to his room.
He picked up as soon as he closed the door behind himself. On the screen, he could see you, still in your sleeping clothes, and Ivy was on your lap. Lewis stared at his daughter and from one single look he could tell she was not looking well.
“Hi, love. Sorry I didn’t answer your texts earlier…” You said first thing.
“What happened?” Lewis frowned.
“Ivy woke up a little under the weather today. She’s a little feverish.”
He looked at his daughter on the screen again, she wasn’t paying attention to him, her eyes red rimmed like she had been crying, in her hands, tightly held was Brendon the Kraken, her favorite plush toy, and her blankie. She had a beanie on and a pacifier. She was looking at the TV, not minding him or her mom.
“How’s she doing? Are you thinking of taking her to the hospital?” He asked, his heart tightening in his chest.
“Not yet, I think the fever might go down soon. If it doesn’t then I’ll take her to see the doctor,” you explained, rubbing Ivy’s shoulder as she snuggled up to you and Lewis wished he was home with you and Ivy, taking care of his little girl who was just a little under three, “how is everything going? Ready for the race later?”
Lewis bit back a comment of how he just wanted to go home to his wife and to his baby girl. How he wanted to snuggle up with Ivy on the couch with lots of blankets to keep her warm while watching silly cartoons. But instead, he smiled a little and talked about the race for a minute. He knew that if you knew he was sad, you were gonna be sad too, so he just pretended everything was fine and his heart wasn’t broken for being away from his family.
Ivy was a toddler, and he was aware toddlers were a little under the weather all the time and it usually wasn’t that big of a deal. Hell, he had been home a couple of times when his daughter had a little cold before. But every time it happened when he was away, it ripped his heart apart just the same.
“Will you keep me updated on Ivy?” He asked, looking at your sweet face on the screen.
“Of course, and if I take too long to reply, don’t rip your hair off with worry, okay?” You said with a fond smile. You gently nudged Ivy, pulling her pacifier out, “look, baby, say hi to daddy…”
Ivy looked at the screen, and her little lips turned into a pout, her eyes watering.
“Daddy! Want daddy!” She said, starting to cry as she made grabby hands to the screen.
Lewis felt like his heart was being torn open with a jackhammer, the pleading look in Ivy’s eyes, wanting comfort from her daddy and him being a couple of countries away, unable to teleport to her side to hold her.
“Shhh, it’s okay, love, daddy is coming home soon, isn’t he?” You said, trying to comfort your daughter, but she kept crying, fat tears wetting her chubby cheeks.
“I’m going home soon, sweetheart, I promise. Daddy’s gonna be there soon,” he said through the screen, but Ivy only seemed to grow even more agitated, her cries louder. He knew the fact that she was sick was probably playing a part in making her big emotions come out. He tried more comforting words, but both Ivy was agitated and you were trying to comfort as best as you could.
Lewis watched the screen for a few more seconds, swallowing a painful lump in his throat, seeing his daughter’s urgency in having him closer, her big brown eyes wet with tears and the grabby hands towards him as if he could just go home through the screen and pick her up in his arms.
“Sorry, love,” you said, picking up Ivy and she cried against your shoulder, “I’ll hang up to calm her down, okay? I’ll keep you updated.”
“If anything, anything really happens you can call me anytime.” He said, hearing your little whimpering through the screen, “love you two.”
“We love you, Lewis,” you blew him a quick kiss and hung up.
Lewis stared at the black screen for a long time, not really looking, just remembering the look on his little girl’s face as she wanted him close. He swallowed a couple times more, and he decided to text his dad and stepmom to go check on you and Ivy if they had some free time back home.
He went back to his pre-race meeting with a pit in his stomach. He had to make an herculean effort to be present on the race weekend and not let his mind wander back to you and Ivy. He checked a few more texts, and you kept him updated every once in a while. First telling him you got Ivy to eat something, then you sent him a picture of Ivy taking a nap on your chest, and she looked a little better, but you told him she was still a little feverish, but luckily her temperature hadn’t gone up.
Before going to the race, he warned one of the team’s assistants to keep a close eye on his phone, knowing you’d still be sending him updates on your daughter.
He finished the race P4, which wasn’t a bad finishing position but as soon as he was out of the car, he was thinking of Ivy again. When he checked his phone, your last text had been before the race started, a quick selfie wishing him good luck, but after that, there was not a single text from you, and he started worrying all over again.
“If my wife calls or texts, I need you to interrupt anything I’m doing and get the phone to me, okay? No matter what,” he said to the assistant, handing his phone again before going out to the post race interviews.
He was only half-heartedly replying during the interviews, worried that the assistant had not gone to him not even one moment, which could only mean you had not called yet.
Once the interviews were done, he went back to the assistant to check on his phone and he saw three missed calls from you and two from his dad. His stomach instantly dropped.
“I said to get the phone to me if my wife called,” He looked at the assistant who looked like a deer in the headlights.
“I tried, Lewis! The PR lady didn’t even let me through the door. I told her it was your wife and an emergency, but…” The guy defended himself, pointing to the F1 PR coordinator, who looked at Lewis with wide eyes.
“You don’t ever do that again, understood? My family is my priority and you shouldn’t have interfered when he was under explicit orders to find me as soon as my wife called.” Lewis said, he was calm but his voice was firm and left no room for questioning. The woman only nodded, spurting some excuse and apology.
He barely waved her off before finding a secluded little room to check his phone. In the texts, you had warned him that Ivy got worse and you were taking her to the hospital. He immediately called your phone but it went straight to voicemail. He tried a couple more times before trying his dad, who luckily picked up.
“Dad? Where are they?” He said.
“I brought your girls to the hospital, they put Ivy in a room and the doctor is checking her up now. We’re in the waiting room now, so as soon as I have any news, I’ll let you know. Your wife’s phone died, so it’s probably best to talk to me.”
Lewis exhaled, still feeling nervous but a little more comforted that you weren’t alone with Ivy in a moment like this.
“Can you send me the address of the hospital? I’m going straight there. And please, keep me updated.”
After hanging up, Lewis immediately went to find the team to let them know his daughter was sick and he needed to get home as soon as possible, rescheduling the post-race debriefing. He didn’t even get back to the hotel, since he had his suitcase with him at the paddock, he just called his connections and got himself a helicopter back home.
He arrived at the hospital you and Ivy were in a couple of hours later, going straight inside and finding his dad in the waiting room, chatting with a nurse. He hugged his dad, who told him you were inside with Ivy, and the nurse took Lewis and Anthony there.
Lewis entered the room where you were, sitting before the hospital bed, and Ivy was lying on the bed, holding her plushie with one hand and holding her mom’s hand with the other. She looked the same as she had in the FaceTime call that morning. 
“Daddy!” Ivy squealed, and Lewis rushed inside, hugging her tightly, careful minding the IV drip in her arm. She smelled the same as always, baby shampoo and home. Lewis inhaled into her curly hair and kissed her cheek.
“Hi, baby… I’m sorry dad took too long to arrive. How is my baby girl doing?” He asked, gently putting her down on the bed, but she grasped his coat as if to stop him from leaving again. He leaned over the bed and pecked your cheek, “Hi, my love…”
You quickly explained to Lewis that that doctor had checked on Ivy and you were waiting for him to bring the results in. Lewis comforted Ivy for a moment, before walking around the bed to hug you. You looked tired, and he imagined you had spent the whole day dealing with a sick, fussy toddler.
“Have you eaten today?” He asked, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.
“In the morning,” You mutter, closing your eyes for a moment, enjoying the gentle caress of his knuckles on your cheeks.
“Wanna go home to rest and eat while I stay here with Ivy?” He offered, despite already knowing your reply.
“Of course not, I’m not leaving her side,” You said, rolling your eyes and he smiled.
“Dad, will you take my lovely wife to the cafeteria and make sure she eats something?” Lewis said to his dad, who was still chatting with Ivy. He immediately accepted, and Lewis removed his own coat, putting it around you, “We’ll wait here, okay?”
You nodded and left with Anthony just as Lewis turned to Ivy.
“Are you feeling cold, baby?” He asked the little girl, who looked fussy and sleepy, rubbing her eyes as she nodded.
Ivy made grabby hands, whispering for Daddy, and Lewis got into the hospital bed with her, pulling her to lay on his chest as he adjusted the blankets around her. Her skin was still warm to the touch, and he held her close, wrapping both arms around his little girl while she spoke about her day, whining about her day and about being sick. She was always extra clingy when he came back from his trips.
Lewis gently played with her curls while she spoke, muttering his uh-hu, and yeah, and his of course, baby, until she started slurring out the words and slowly falling asleep.
He smiled, despite the worry, he was glad to be there finally, to be with his wife and daughter.
When you came back to the room, Ivy was sleeping against Lewis’ chest just like she used to do as a newborn, Lewis gently rubbing her back and getting drool in his shirt. You handed him a coffee, and he drank without moving a muscle so as to not wake up your little girl.
The doctor came a few minutes later, checking on Ivy and making sure she was fine and the fever was subsiding, he said it was just a little cold and prescribed a couple of meds.
Lewis carried your little girl to the car seat, while you hugged Anthony goodbye and thanked him profusely for keeping you company when you were going to the hospital earlier. After that, you went home driving, Lewis in the passenger seat.
Arriving home, Lewis carried Ivy to her little bed, tucking her in and touching her forehead to make sure the fever was really gone. When he returned to the bedroom, you had taken a quick shower and was dressed in soft, comfortable pajamas.
“How are you, love?” He asked as you walked lazily up to him and he wrapped his arms around your mirror, pulling you into his chest.
“Just a little tired…” You mumbled, and he pecked your lips, walking you back towards the bed.
“Thank you for taking care of her today, love. And I’m sorry I wasn’t there for most of it…” He whispered affectionately into your skin.
“It’s okay, you had work… I’m glad you came straight home to us.” You muttered as he placed you in bed, tucking you in.
“I love you,” He tugged your hand and kissed your knuckles.
He let you fall asleep while he took a quick shower too, changing into PJs before going to check on Ivy again. The doctor had assured that the medicine would take her out for the night, but she’d be totally better the following morning.
When he got in bed with you again, pulling you closer, his arm around your middle, his leg between yours and your face pressed into his chest, he finally breathed. He had been tense the whole day from being away from you and Ivy, worry gnawing at him, and guilt for being away in moments like these. Not only tough moments like this, but also the happy ones. He wondered what else he’d miss of Ivy growing up, and he had missed so much already.
That was the first time he truly contemplated retirement. 
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softanddreamyhours · 8 months ago
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🌷 enhypen fic recommendations 🌷
okay i didn't add word counts !! sorry !! i only realized rn and i'm way to lazy to go and add them oops, some are long and some are short (it can be a nice surprise when you open the links)
lee heeseung strawberries and cigarettes - @chaconnenha heeseung x fem!reader, fluff, kinda suggestive (they kiss), badboy!heeseung ?? (he smokes) goodgirl!reader ?? (she doesn't smoke) this one gave me butterflies haha, super cute
nevertheless - @palajae idol!heeseung x gn!reader, fluff, crack maybe? (i thought it was funny) idk man this made me laugh out loud and it was also super cute
i don't want to be your roommate, i want to kiss your neck - @taeghi heeseung x fem!reader, fluff, angst (only a little), smut, best friends brother. yup i love lee heeseung and this made me go slightly feral
park jongseong no limits - @yeonzzzn jay x fem!reader, strangers to lovers, fluff, angst, smut. i loved this so much, like it felt real yk i can picture dear jay owning a restaurant.
teddy bear - @okwonyo jay x fem!reader, fluff, established relationship. this one made me feel so warm i just want someone to call me princess and take care of me
sim jaeyun act now, think later - @sankyeom jake x fem!reader, fluff, strangers to friends to lovers, down bad jake. guys this was so cute i was giggling and shit
erotic empathy - @simpjaes jake x fem!reader, fluff (maybe lol), smut, strangers to ?? jakes a virgin and reader makes him one no longer, idk i love loser boys
park sunghoon unsteady - @yeonzzzn sunghoon x fem!reader, exes to ?? angst, fluff, cheating? (not sunghoon tho) this was a bit sad but ended happy :)
ceo sunghoon - @hottestvirgin ceo!sunghoon x fem!collegestudent reader, fluff, smut, age gap. loved this so much, i would do literally anything for this man
kim sunoo mint choco hater - @sanrikis sunoo x fem!reader, strangers (?) to lovers (?), fluff. i actually love mint chocolate as a flavor so i cannot relate to this, but it was still so cute
misfit - @palajae sunoo x gn!reader, hogwarts au, hufflepuff!sunoo, slytherin!reader, fluff, strangers to lovers. i love harry potter and i love enhypen so yeah i loved this
yang jangwon kiss and no makeup - @soov jangwon x fem!reader, fluff, established relationship. jungwon is so cute and this is so cute and fluffy
kiss cam - @jaeyunverse jangwon x fem!reader, fluff, soooo much fluff, enemies(?) to lovers. um this was so cute and yes i know i say that for every fic but this was so cute :(
nishimura riki best friends can kiss, right? - @riki-dazed niki x reader, fluff, friends to lovers, there are 2 parts to this and in the second part they kiss a lot, so maybe suggestive? this was super cute, i'm such a sucker for friends to lovers tho
heart defender - @seosracha niki x fem!reader, fluff, enemies to lovers, fake dating, nikis kinda mean. i live laugh love high school aus so this was lovely
multiple members the perilla leaf debate - @jjunberry hyung line x reader, fluff, established relationships. this one made me happy bc i can be a little jealous sometimes oops
against the wall - @goldenhypen ot7 x reader, established relationships, fluff ? suggestive ?? just making out with enhypen basically
when their s/o calls them bro - @heeliopheelia ot7 x reader, fluff, suggestive for some?, established relationships. i never call anyone bro but this was still funny and cute
hugs in specific scenarios - @thejakeslayla ot7 x gn!reader, fluff, angst for some, established relationships physical touch is so my love language so this was great bc i love hugs
hot things they do - @atrirose ot7 x fem!reader, fluff, established relationships. these also had me giggling and kicking my feet
more than just friends - @atrirose ot7 x fem!reader, fluff, friends that are more than friends, established relationships?? friends to lovers is always a win in my eyes
( AS ALWAYS SEND ME YOUR RECOMENDATIONS PLS I LOVE READING FICS AND GETTING RECOMENDATIONS SO I WILL LOVE YOU IF YOU SEND ME YOUR RECOMENDATIONS AND FAV FICS )
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