#the saviors x reader

[bestwitchsam]

Savior Viktor Icons from the League of Legends

[shiny-jr]

I’ve just had a vision, what if a yan (e.g riddle or vil because they are most princess-ish) was a trapped in a castle away like in one of those stereotypical fairy tales and the reader decides to save them because they are a ‘damsel in distress’ and reader is like a hero… only to realise there is a reason why they were locked away (because they were batshit crazy)

Warning: Yandere. Gender-neutral reader.

Characters: Vil Schoenheit.

Summary: You are a thief with freshly stolen goods. Chased and hunted down, you avoid capture by finding a castle hidden in gloom and fog. Locals told legends of this place, saying a royal had been trapped within. Of course, you don't quite believe such tall tales. That is, until you discover the royal and learned that they were purposefully sealed inside...

Note: I think I'll call this one, not your valiant savior. It's just a placeholder name for now. Just a quick post, so sorry if it's bad.

It was too easy. What did they expect when they left out a priceless object owned by the royal family and estimated to be worth a fortune? Of course a famed thief on the loose such as yourself, would just be itching to snatch the relic. And snatch you did, living up to your reputation of thief. Each member having unique abilities to assist in stealing. Your mother had speed to outrun anyone in a chase, your grandfather had the talent of picking any locks, your great-grandmother could sweet-talk anyone then rob them blind. And so on and so forth.

And of course, you had your own talent. As quiet as a mouse and with fingers that stuck to valuables like glue, stealing became like second nature. Literally. However, it wasn't exactly a talent valued by the wider community, and if you stole enough you could end up on terribly drawn wanted posters. Which is why staying in one place wasn't wise.

From place to place, you went taking and claiming anything of worth. When you got very low on cash, you set your sights high: on the vault that stored the royal's priceless treasures. There was bound to be endless riches stored within, if only you could get your grubby hands on them. Well, after careful planning, you had. It wasn't a giant gem or sack full of gold.

Time was short, so you had grabbed the closest thing you could before guards could find you. A golden box encrusted with jewels. Who knew what was inside? Maybe some family heirloom, a magical artifact, or something else of high value. And with the box, you bolted, and the chase had begun out of the city and through the woods.

As fast as you could, you ran through the mystic woods, a forrest travelers and locals alike were all wary of. It was the safest place you could go when chased by frightening palace guards on horseback that would do anything to take back what you stole and drag you back to the gallows. Even the woods heavy with fog and dark from the clouds overhead, had deterred your pursuers enough for you to slip out of their reach and deeper into the forrest where there was no way they would be able to track you. Here, you would have to wait until tomorrow and depart early. Then, you'd be home free and rich beyond your wildest dreams.

After what felt like hours of walking, you stumbled upon a bridge over a gloomy lake. In the middle, sat an old castle of gray stone and dark windows. A castle once said to hold a royal captive, but of course, you didn't believe such stories that were so old they were told to your own grandparents. This castle would be your sanctuary for the night. And maybe, just maybe, you'd clutch the jeweled box and dream of simpler times when you were told fairytales of locked away royals waiting for a savior.

The castle was exactly like those set in spooky tales, haunted by vengeful spirits and claimed by ghosts. It appeared abandoned, that much was obvious by the crumbling stone bridge and the battered old wooden doors that once protected the inhabitants.

Cautiously stepping over the splintered debris of the front door, you didn’t bother boarding it up since no one would be stupid enough to follow you inside.

There was wreckage and ruin everywhere. If you had to guess, whatever happened here, whether the people were driven away by conflict or time, it was followed by the destruction of time. Time with weather were likely all factors that led to the disarray of what was probably once a grand estate. Strangely enough, there was furniture and decor. Everything coated in dust and grime, but still here. Had people been too afraid to enter the grounds? There were so many valuables that could've been looted!

"I'll definitely have to come back here later." You scoff, turning over a few clothes or broken furniture with your foot to uncover possible hidden goodies. Maybe something as small but valuable as a ring was lost somewhere on the ground.

Proceeding to carry the golden box under your arm, you decide to search for the cleaniest, not-so-moldy room where you could spend the night. On the third floor halls, you see ripped curtains and frames where portraits loosely hung. Every rug was brown with dirt and dust.

There were items left behind, which showcased the life one led here. A piano too big to steal, the skeleton of a chandelier and broken gems hanging from its limbs, empty glass perfume bottles now filled with dust. The place must've been wondrous once, but now it was like a tomb. A setting frozen in time.

When you found moonlight filtering through the open balcony of what looked to be the master bedroom, you paused to see the space wrecked more than the others. As if more than just weather and time had affected this place. The owner of this castle likely slept in this very room, on that very bed where the sheets were ruffled and unkempt.

"I wonder who used to live here..." You murmur to no one in particular, as you approach the balcony looking over the bridge and woods. This would be a good vantage point.

A heavy fog settled over the woods, extending over the bridge like water. Good, an extra layer for cover. You stepped back into the room, analyzing every carved piece of wooden furniture, makeup and brushes stored on tabletops, a separate room as long as a hallway and filled with all types of articles of clothing.

If all this was still here, then was it possible some jewelry was left behind? You scoured the room, looking for hidden compartments while murmuring to yourself to fill the ominous silence. As you pulled back a curtain against a wall, you furrowed your eyebrows when you saw an uneven lump underneath the wallpaper.

Could this be handle leading to a vault of treasures? With that in mind, you ripped off the old wallpaper. A glimmer of gold made your heart soar with hope, but when you caught sight of your reflection, you stopped and stared. A mirror. It was a large mirror, oval shaped, with golden borders so intricately decorated. However, when a hand suddenly appeared on the other side of the mirror, like a ghostly apparition, you screamed and stumbled back.

A hand– there was a hand in the mirror! You stared with widened eyes full of shock, as the hand pressed its palm against the surface of the glass. You couldn't see anything else, no one behind the hand. After a second, the slim pale hand delicately pointed a long dainty finger at the box you were holding in a vice grip.

"What...? This? You want this? But..."

You had worked hard to procure this golden box from the royals. Pursing your lips, you contemplated your options, with so many questions running rampant in your mind. What was that thing? A magic mirror? A magic mirror would be priceless, much more valuable than any gold. However, if it was magic, it would be tricky. Possibly even sentient. So you'd have to gain its favor.

"Alright, alright, the box. You know, I went through hell trying to get this."

You informed the mirror, unsure if it even understood you. You carefully set down the heavy box in front of the mirror, and watch as the hand made a motion with its fingers.

Click!

It had unlocked the box, without even a key or tool. A grin broke out on your face. Had it done it for you? Apparently not, because the box opened on its own and a heavy thick tome floated out from it and into the air. The hand beckoned the tome closer, and closer it came, until it was literally phasing through the glass.

"Hey! Wait––"

The glass shattered, the sound booming and ringing out in the silence like an explosion. You only had a second to react, instinctually using your arms to shield your face from the glass flying out in every direction. When it stopped, you looked around. The mattress was shredded, the curtains torn to shreds, wooden furniture cut as if done by an axe, but miraculously you were somehow unharmed.

A breath, not of your own, caught your attention. Your eyes darted over to the now broken mirror, awestruck at the vision of a figure stepping over broken glass. They were beautiful, gorgeous, stunning, more than any words could convey. Their hair like gold and eyes an alluring shade of purple like two amethyst stones, soft pink lips, and a tall slim pale figure clothed in odd robes. For a moment, whoever this person was, appeared disoriented for a brief moment, but they clutched the tome like a lifeline. The tome that came from the box you had stolen.

"Thank you––"

He breathed, his voice quiet as he attempted to stand tall and upright. When his legs nearly gave out beneath him, you were there to catch his hand and prevent him from falling as he looked at you with appreciation. You were just stunned, bewildered, in pure disbelief.

"You... You freed me. You returned my stolen tome...!"

He exclaimed in disbelief, as he restored his posture. Somehow, he was able to stand in heels, but heels were currently one of the least important details.

What did he mean freed?

There was no time to ask any questions. The loud sound of the shattering must've alerted any of your pursuers that had followed you thus far, because from the balcony you could make out the torchlights weaving their way directly towards the bridge.

The mysterious man from the mirror took notice of your expression of dismay as he glanced at the distant torchlights. Smoothing out his robes, he looked back at you and took in your expression. "Enemies of yours?"

"Yes..." You nod slowly.

"Now that just won't do. I can't have anyone harming, or even killing my savior. I've yet to even learn your name." Tapping some well-manicured fingers against the spine of the tome, he appeared to contemplate something. When he stopped tapping his fingers, he smiled so sweetly. "I am Vil Schoenheit, prince and prodigy. Here's my proposition to you, my savior: I will destroy your enemies for a small price. You must tell me your name, and I will grant you my protection."

Of course you gave him your name, and almost immediately you saw the fog below turn an odd color. The torchlights flickered out, you no longer heard their encouraged shouts to move forward but instead their screams echoing in the dark woods. All after Vil murmured a few words in a foreign tongue read from his tome, as he continued to gaze at your intently. What exactly was he to cause so much death in a single instant with hardly any effort...? And you were stuck in this abandoned castle with him.

The prince had no plans to abandon you, he's made that much clear when you attempted to casually part ways after thanking him for getting rid of your pursuers. Stay. I can make it worth your while. Once I reach my former glory, you'll be able to bask in it with me. Is what he said as you swore you heard the front of the castle be sealed shut.

The entire time he looked around the castle with disdain, cross as he complained about the state of his home. While helping him clean up some rooms, he told you more about himself. Vil was a prince who once lived in this castle, set to inherent the throne shortly after the death of his father. However, he was widely feared due to being a prodigy in dark magics and genius at brewing concoctions. For attempting to steal the life of a younger kinder foreign prince who specialized in good magic, he was trapped in a mirror with his tome being the only key to grant him freedom.

Vil actually appeared to be much too fond of you, which you attributed to his isolation. If you were imprisoned all alone in a mirror for centuries, you likely would've gone insane. It was a miracle Vil's mind was intact, but maybe he wasn't there entirely. Because what sane person killed people with the snap of their fingers while smiling so kindly at the one who set him free?

Pridefully he listed off his feats and accomplishments. Living prodigy. Most beautiful man in the land. Prince of the land. It felt too much like flaunting, as he wanted you to realize how truly great he was. He replaced your clothes with his own, and while combing your hair he reminded you that what's rightfully his will be returned to him one day, and you would be there beside him that day.

The crown was what he wanted, a crown he believed was stolen from him and passed down to the descendants of the very good prince he attempted to kill. He spoke of a future in the castle restored to its former glory, where citizens would be loyal to him once again, and those that wronged him will receive a fate worse than death. Positions were open for applying once he became king, he told you one day. He was still searching for a vassal, a knight, a jester, or a partner to wear a crown as well.

Was it the isolation that had driven him to become so attached to the one who set him free? It was possible, but you couldn't even be sure. For all you knew, he could've been like this before he became trapped in the mirror. What mattered now was that he did not make any effort to hide his attraction towards you. Vil was offering a thief all the riches he would attain after his plan for vengeance, and his heart in a golden box.

"Keep the knives I gifted you, although I doubt you'll have to resort to lifting a finger. Just allow me to handle it when the time comes. I want to extract vengeance slowly and painfully, make them hurt just as they did to me... And at the end of the day, you will be there, you little thief who stole my affections, to comfort me and drive away those memories of cold lonely centuries in darkness. You'll be there for me, won't you, my valiant savior?"

[w1ll0wray]

LET’S RUN AWAY ft. jinx x fem!reader

⊹₊⟡⋆ summary: after hearing the news of her escaping prison, you finally find your girlfriend in desperate need of comfort.

⊹₊⟡⋆warnings: mention of suicide, minors or men dni, jinx almost attempting, mention of other characters.

wc. 1.4k

𐙚 note | I’d really appreciate it if you would not only just like, but also reblog & give me feedback. thank you:)

You ran for god knows how long. Pushing over people— you had one target in mind.

Jinx.

She got out. She got out of jail. She somehow got out and now you were determined to find her. You knew what she was planning— after Isha’s death, her one goal was to end it all. You didn’t want that to happen. 

Caitlyn gave her a chance— a chance to restart. But all Jinx did was escape, without even seeing you. The look on her face when the explosion dissipated, Isha nowhere in sight, it broke your heart to see her surrender. Thankfully, you had sneakily got out before anyone could arrest you— sharing one last look with your girlfriend. It’s been a week since you’ve seen her.

Enforcers flooded Zaun, surveying the areas— surveying the areas to catch you. Right now, you didn’t care if your hood had fallen and revealed your face. 

You had to get to Jinx.

Catching a sniff of fire, you swiftly took a turn, eyes widening at the Last Drop lit up in flames. 

“Oh no.” You scrambled around the building, taking a few turns until a door finally came into view. Barging in, you skipped a few stairs down, almost falling onto your face until another door appeared. Hurrying, you slammed the door open to her hideout, heart leaping out of your chest at the sight of Jinx dangerously standing by the edge. 

“Jinx!” You called out, prompting her to turn her head towards your panicked self. Sighing in relief, you bolted to her and flung your arms around her. 

She remained frozen, eyes not meeting yours as you explained how relieved you were, arms still tight around her. Noticing her absent behavior, you raised your head up, eyes filling up with tears.

“I’m sorry about everything, Jinx.” You sniffle out, slowly moving her away from the edge, hand coming up to cup her cheek, “I’m so sorry.” 

Her rosy eyes remained on the ground, face emotionless. Your arms were around her waist and shoulder, holding her incase she’d disappear again, “Please, Jinx.” Your finger caressed her cheek, searching for any sign of emotion. 

When she doesn’t budge, you burst into tears, tucking her head into the crook of your neck as you hugged her, “I love you so much,” Letting your fingers thread through her short hair. 

“I’m with you, always.” You whispered through sobs, hand on the back of her head, “It’s not your fault—I promise.” Tightening your hold around her, you felt defeated at the thought of her enduring torture in that cell alone. You should’ve never run away— you should’ve surrendered alongside her. 

Maybe then, she wouldn’t have been so alone. Repeating your soft hearted words, you silently hoped that she was indeed listening.

 Lost in tears, you unexpectedly felt the fabric of your shirt turn damp. Pausing, you slowly pull away, eyes searching hers, only to freeze. Your chest tightened, and it felt like your heart had cracked in two as tears streamed down her cheeks. 

A faint whimper slipped from her lips, bottom lip quivering as her gaze finally met yours. Eyes glistening with tears, she grit her teeth, trying to hold back her sobs. Noticing her restrain herself, you lifted her face with your hands, “You’re the bravest person I’ve ever met.” You swept her into your embrace as soon as she faltered, causing her crumble into a flood of tears. 

Once you both met the floor, you pulled her into your arms without hesitation, hand resting on her shuddering body. It was like old times— when she used to crawl back into your arms when Silco scolded her or kicked her out of a mission. 

Running a soothing hand over her hair numerous times, you felt her body soften into yours. 

Without warning, her hands tremble as they wrapped around you, “I can’t live like this anymore.” Her voice was quieter, as if she’d fall apart any moment. 

You frowned, lips pressed together, “We’ll find a way, I promise.” Whispering, you cradle her face, tired eyes meeting yours, 

“It’s not your fault.” She knew you meant Isha and…Vander. 

Though, in the blink of an eye, a gust of wind came from behind you. You whirl your head around, eyes widening at the sight of an old friend. 

Green sparkles enveloping him as he took steady steps towards you both, “I just want to talk.”

“You think she’ll be alright?” You mumbled, finger rubbing your eyes, glancing at Jinx snoozing beside you in Isha’s fort. Ekko only sighed, “We have two choices,” 

You quirked up, watching him get up, “, we join in the war or…” He stares at Jinx’s body laying into yours, “We run away.” 

He knew the answer, there was no way you’d let Jinx go kill herself. No one knows what she might do if she sees Vander again— or even Vi. Raising your head to meet his eye, you said the words , “We run away.” 

Later that night, Ekko had gone out to make sure of things, leaving you to take care of Jinx. She had woken up shortly after his departure, her emotions all over the place. 

“I don’t deserve to live!” She cries out, tears starting to cascade down her face, trying to avoid your touch, “I need to die.” 

You tried your best to stay calm, hands landing on her bare shoulders, “You think you’re the only one with all the guilt?” Cupping her face, you nuzzle her closer, 

“Everyone in this world has done something they regret.” You reassured, gently planting a kiss on her forehead, sensing her tension ease. Afterwards, you tried feeding her some fruits that had been out in the abandoned stalls. She only ate three pieces before commenting that her stomach hurt. 

Thankfully, Ekko had returned, a smile spreading across his face, “I managed to get us a ride.” A surge of relief blossomed in you, prompting you to turn your attention back to Jinx, a soft smile etched on your face.

“We can get out of here.” Her eyes widened, a sign of life returning. That night, Ekko helped Jinx cut her hair, shaving signs of her past life. You were secretly upset about her beautiful locks but accepted it eventually. 

You all decorated each other in marker, Jinx cracking a smile for the first time. She even had the full course meal Ekko had given you both, her face a bit fuller. Once it was time to sleep, she snuggled into you, craving your warmth. 

In a blink of an eye, it was morning and the streets felt emptier. You all absorbed the undercity one last time before departing from your childhood home. Jinx had her hand in yours, trembling when signs of places she’d been in came into view. You reassured her with a squeeze, “We’re almost there.” Nodding, she let you both guide her out and into the shining sun of Piltover. 

War was near, all the enforcers were gone in some parts, guarding up in town square. Finally reaching the station, you pulled Jinx alongside you as Ekko gestured to the airship.

“It’ll get you out and into another city.” You frowned as he stayed on the ground, not entering with you both. 

“Are you not coming?” You asked, noticing his saddened expression. His gaze lands on the hextech building before meeting yours again, “I need to save my people.” 

Jinx tensed up beside you before running towards him and engulfing him in a tight hug, “Are you insane—?” 

“—Find happiness, Powder.” His voice cracked, eyes glistened as she embraced him, his bottom lip quivering, “Try to send me a message when you can.” He sniffled out, patting her back once she let go. 

You nodded, watching as Jinx slowly walked towards you, “Thank you for everything, Ekko.” Wrapping your arms around him, you then let go, shoving his shoulder with yours, “Stay safe, our boy savior.’” 

He chuckled, guiding you into the airship, a tear escaping down his cheek, “Fate will bring us back together.” 

Jinx held onto your arm as the airship started departing, her cheek resting on your shoulder as you waved goodbye. Feeling her gaze on you, you tilt your head down, a brow raising, “Hm?” 

She pouts, eyes innocently gazing up at you, “We’re in this together,…right?” 

You giggled, gathering her in your arms tightly as if she’d disappear any minute, 

“Together.” 

wanted to write a different one. Hope you enjoyed! ps. thank you sm for the wonderful requests I’m trying my best to reply to them all ! but for the ones asking for part 2 there’s a high chance I won’t reply depending on the one shot :) but continue with new ideas I luv it.

[florabellalove]

LET ME SPEAK MY TRUTH 🦢🫶🏼

sometimes I just want to read a reverse comfort fic about some big burly character absolutely breaking down, call it a saviour kink or whatever but there seems to be an absence in this world

[frelonshi]

(request comes from my previous blog

Requests open!)

Ekko with an S/O insecure about their huge scar

Smutty content below the cut! (not very heavy, more focused on the fluff part)

Ekko spent his life surrounded with people with difficult stories, ugly scars and scarred minds. He learnt not to be judgemental, and that everything has a story to tell, often rooted in unfairness, which angers him deeply and only solidify his resolves.

It's also a well-known fact that Ekko is a devoted sweetheart. He tries sometimes to come accross as tough guy, but that façade lasts about 0.5 seconds and everyone knows Ekko has a soft heart. He loves dearly, and you, his S/O, is the person he values the most in life.

You're perfect to him, that's needless to say. Ekko already sees beauty in life itself, in imperfections, but when it comes to you, it goes beyond words. You're his soulmate, the love of his life, and if it weren't for the obvious painful backstory behind the scar, he'd probably never think much of it.

Although in Zaun lots of people have scars and therefore are less prone to comment on it, you can be sure that if anyone makes a bad comment about your scar, Ekko will be here to beat the person's ass.

He tries to be comprehensive when you open up to him about your insecurity. But at the same time, he doesn't really understand what you're insecure about because you're beautiful. Like, breathtakingly beautiful. 'He has already filled dozens of sketchbooks with drawings of you' beautiful.

But he also knows that people's mind are not logical, so he does his best to reassure you. He reminds you every time he gets the chance that he finds you gorgeous and that he's lucky to have you.

The first time you slept together, you revealed your scar to him. He was taken aback, but tried not to show it - he didn't want you to think he didn't like your body, because that wasn't the case. He just didn't know you had to endure it. He asked if he could touch it, because he knows people react differently. If you allow it, he'll make sure to always spend a time kissing and carressing your back during sex, even if it's not focused on it. If you don't, he'll make sure to respect it.

If you don't want him to see your scar, he'll understand. He wishes you could be totally at ease naked with him, but he's willing to work with you through it with you.

I think at night, when you fall asleep together, he kisses your neck goodbye (but that's just something he does regardless of the presence of scars).

[luvlyycy]

blade has such a thick cock, you don't know how to handle it :(

he's splitting your tiny cunt open, hands pushing your thighs to your chest as he tries to hold back, "bladieee, 's too muchhh." you whine, hands squeezing the sheets blade was fearing you'd tear them.

"you can take it." he grunts, thrusting his thick cock in and out of your cunt, balls slapping against your ass as he holds you down in a mating press, forcing you to take his big cock. your chin is covered in drool and tears are drying against your cheeks. his long hair tickles your face as he leans over you, "cumming again? you're s' fuckin' sensitive." he purrs. your shaking as he fucks your oversensitive pussy, fucking your umpteenth orgasm out of you.

"look, she can take my cock just fine. so dramatic.." huff.

[ekkoscakeo]

"Our Final Song"

[a/n] : listen to ma meilleure ennemie while reading this to cry more ;')

The soft hum of "Ma Meilleure Ennemie" filled the small room, looping endlessly, weaving itself into the fabric of the night. It was their song, the one that had accidentally played the night they first danced, awkward and laughing, under flickering string lights. Now, it played again—not as a backdrop to laughter, but as a companion to a goodbye they both knew was coming.

Ekko sat cross-legged on the floor, his Z-Drive dismantled beside him. He didn’t need it tonight. Tonight was for her. She leaned against the far wall, her silhouette bathed in the dim light of the desk lamp. She looked fragile, as though the slightest gust of wind could carry her away. But her smile, soft and knowing, was as solid as it had always been.

“It’s a weird song to love, don’t you think?” she said, breaking the silence. Her voice was quiet but steady, as if she hadn’t just been crying moments ago.

Ekko glanced at her, a small smile tugging at his lips. “It’s weird because you love it, and you’re weird.”

She laughed—soft, barely there, but still enough to make his heart twist. “Says the guy who rewinds time for fun.”

He leaned back on his hands, tilting his head as he watched her. “You’re not gonna let me win this one, are you?”

“Never,” she teased. Then, more gently, “That’s what made us work, though. You challenge everything, and I challenge you.”

He turned his gaze to the Z-Drive. It lay lifeless now, the device that had once given him endless chances. But tonight, there was no rewinding. No second try. This was their moment, fleeting and final, and he wouldn’t waste it.

----

The song played on, its melancholic melody carrying them through their memories.

“Do you remember the first time we met?” she asked suddenly, her voice cutting through the quiet.

Ekko smirked. “You mean when you tried to spray-paint over my work?”

She rolled her eyes, but the smile on her face betrayed her amusement. “It was awful. A galaxy? Really?”

“It was art, thank you very much,” he shot back, feigning offense. “And if I remember correctly, someone decided to fix it by painting stars that looked like fried eggs.”

“They were stars,” she argued, laughing now. “But sure, let’s go with fried eggs.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I let you win that argument, too.”

She softened, her gaze meeting his. “No, Ekko. You didn’t let me win. You let me stay. That’s different.”

-----

The song looped again, filling the spaces between words, carrying them to the quieter, heavier memories.

“Do you regret it?” she asked after a long silence. Her voice was small, almost afraid.

He looked at her sharply. “Regret what?”

“Us. This. Loving me.”

His heart twisted. He stood, crossing the room to sit beside her. “Never,” he said firmly. “Not for a second.”

She leaned her head against his shoulder, and for a moment, they sat like that, the song wrapping around them like a fragile cocoon.

“I regret the fights,” she murmured. “The times I pushed you too hard. The times I didn’t say what I really felt.”

“You pushed me because you believed in me,” he said softly. “And that’s what I’ll remember. Not the fights. Not the regrets. Just... you.”

-----

The night wore on, their voices growing softer, their silences longer. The weight of the inevitable hung heavy between them, but neither dared to say it aloud. Not yet.

As the final notes of the song played for the hundredth time, she reached for his hand. Her fingers, once so steady, trembled against his. “Ekko,” she whispered, “promise me something.”

“Anything.”

“Don’t stop living when I’m gone.”

His throat tightened, and he couldn’t speak. She turned to look at him, her eyes bright with unshed tears but full of determination. “You have so much left to do. So much left to give. Don’t let this—don’t let me—be the end of you.”

He swallowed hard, nodding. “I promise,” he choked out.

She smiled, leaning her head against his chest as the song began to play again. “Good,” she whispered.

------

When the last notes of the song finally faded, so did she. Her warmth, her weight, her presence—all of it slipped away like a fading dream.

Ekko sat there, the silence pressing in around him, his arms empty but his heart full of the love they had shared. The room felt colder, but he didn’t move. He let the quiet settle, let the memory of her linger a little longer.

His gaze drifted to the Z-Drive lying beside him, its cracked surface catching the faint glow of dawn breaking through the window. Gently, almost reverently, he picked it up, his fingers brushing over the fractured casing.

“One rewind,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “Just one.”

He pressed the button, the device sputtering weakly before flickering out completely. It was useless, broken when he needed it most. Time, it seemed, had made its choice.

Ekko clenched the Z-Drive tightly, his knuckles whitening as tears streaked silently down his face. “Why?” he rasped into the empty room. “Why give me this power if I can’t save her?”

The question hung in the air, unanswered.

And yet, deep down, he knew. She wouldn’t have wanted him to rewrite this—to steal away the love and the pain that made their final night together real. As much as it hurt, it was theirs. Untouchable. Unchangeable.

The song looped faintly in his mind, the melody carved into his soul. He sat there, the dawn spilling light across the room, his heart breaking but alive with the echoes of her.

“Thank you for loving me,” he whispered again, the Z-Drive slipping from his grasp and clattering softly to the floor.

It wasn’t the ending he wanted, but it was theirs. And in all its beauty and pain, that would have to be enough.

--------

[thegoogoomuckkk]

Will you be doing more the Club series? I miss it so much, I can’t wait for more it’s so hot.

club -> businessman -> nanami isn't exactly what you expected out of your third client. . .but that doesn't mean you're complaining

the time for being nervous had long since passed. any reservations you had about sleeping with the world’s strongest sorcerers had been shoved down deep inside; there wasn’t any time for that. between dancing at the club as usual & your nights spent with scheduled clients, there was hardly any time to spend with your thoughts, & maybe that was a good thing. there was time, however, to tear shiu a new asshole. 

“listen, they’ve already paid, doll. ain’t anything I can do about it now. besides, you’re always telling me I don’t pay you enough. I’m paying you plenty, now, aren’t I?”

“oh please, your cheap ass still isn’t paying me enough. they’re paying me,” you murmur, & he’s rolls his eyes. 

“you’re gettin’ paid, yeah? that’s all that matters. now was there something you needed, or do you just like to waste my time?”

“both,” you sneer, leaning over his desk, palms flat against the cheap mahogany. cheap, that was a good word to describe him. “who’s my sunday appointment?” 

his smile makes you violent. “can’t tell you that. just that he’s paid a shit ton for your appointment.”

“so when he murders me, you gonna sprinkle that cash over my grave?”

“he’s not gonna murder you, drama queen. I checked him out, he’s clean as can be.”

you left his office with more questions than answers. shiu knew who it was, but he wouldn’t tell you. 4 whole hours to a random stranger. you couldn’t dwell on it too long, you had a schedule to keep, & apparently so did your client. 10:15pm sharp.

this was gonna be easy-peasy, you thought, pulling the door open to the club. tonight worried you the least out of any of your appointments. a blowjob was the most mundane thing a man could’ve asked you for. 

you were sitting on the edge of the bed, cool & smooth, when the door swung open at 10:14pm.

& holy shit, kento nanami was probably the most attractive man you’d ever seen. you were ready for him to grab you by the scalp & force his cock down your throat. in fact, you weren’t just ready for it, you wanted it. giving this fine piece a blowjob was going to be your pleasure. 

“hello.”

you bit back a laugh. “hi.” you surveyed him further, attempting to look past the face & muscles—as hard as it was—suit & tie, silver rolex, thinly-framed glasses. everything about him was arousing, you were having a hard time containing yourself. 

“so, it said ‘oral sex’ on your file,” you say matter-of-factly. there was no easy way to segue into these kinds of situations, but nanami seemed like a matter-of-fact kind of guy. & you liked that. 

"that's correct," nanami replied, his voice deep & smooth. he loosened his tie slightly as he approached you, his gaze intense behind those thin frames. "but I'd like to clarify something first."

“oh?” 

he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, & god, even that was hot. "I know that I…paid for your…services,” he clears his throat. & you can see it in his eyes, though they’re averted from yours. he’s embarrassed. good. “but I’m not interested in doing anything that you’re not explicitly comfortable with. so if, at any point, you’re not—comfortable, that is—then we’ll stop. is that clear?” 

you nod, thoughts too jumbled to say anything. but he doesn’t like that. maybe he doesn’t argue, but you can tell, he wants your verbal consent. “yes, nanami. it’s clear,” you try to tease, to be flirty, to be anything but disturbed by how hot this guy was. the pictures don’t do him justice. 

“good.” 

he eyes you like a predator as you stand up from your seated position & take a couple steps toward him. you subtly gesture for him to sit, but he gives you a confused look. “wouldn’t you rather lie down?” 

you snort. “lie down to suck your dick?” you give him the same confused, questioning gaze. "I guess if that’s how you want it.” 

a soft smile touches his lips. “pardon me, but I think you read my request wrong,” he says. “or at least, misinterpreted what I meant. I don’t play on letting you…” he doesn’t even think he can say it, but finally he spits out: “suck my dick,” in a hushed, humiliated tone. “by oral sex, I meant, giving.” 

“oh.” 

“yes, oh.” 

you retreat back to where you were sitting, the backs of your knees bumping against the bed. yes, per your request, shiu had finally moved you to a room with a bed. he follows your movements, both with his eyes & body. 

you were. . .what was this feeling? nervous? excited? no, confused. this man was paying to eat you out. it would be physically impossible for him to be more attractive. but. . .why? why couldn’t he get a girlfriend to do this with? you can’t imagine what straight woman wouldn’t want that.

“may I kiss you?” he accepts your nod this time, & leans down to press his lips against yours. he was so big & tall. he commanded your space, forced his way into it until all you could comprehend was the presence of him. his lips on yours, his teeth tugging on your bottom lip, his hands finding their grip on your waist. you let him push you both back, until you're flush with the bed, head softly rested on the pillows, his knee on the cheap comforter in between your thighs. 

your breath catches in your throat as nanami hovers over you, his eyes dark with desire. he pulls back slightly, his fingers tracing the curve of your jaw. "Is this alright?" he asks, his voice low & husky.

you nod eagerly, then remember his preference for verbal consent. "yes," you breathe. "more than alright."

a small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as he leans in again, this time trailing kisses along your neck. his hands move to push up your shirt, his touch leaving goosebumps in its wake. you arch into him, desperate for more contact.

nanami takes his time, methodically undressing you between kisses & caresses. his touch is reverent, almost worshipful, as he explores every inch of newly exposed skin. his gaze roams over your body, appreciation evident in his eyes. "beautiful," he murmurs, & a small wire snaps in your stomach. this was not a regular session; you didn’t have this kind of sex with…anyone, really, but especially not club patrons. in fact, you can’t remember a time in which a customer went down on you, ever. & more concerning was: you wanted him to, despite how…personal it was. 

 you squirm beneath him, desperate for more. "patience," he murmurs against your collarbone, & you’re sure the deep bass of his voice vibrates straight to your cunt. he trails his lips down your neck, between your breasts, & he seems fixated there for a while, mouth wrapped around the soft skin, sucking the nipple, his other palming your breast, & you let out a breathless whine. he slides his fingers down to your underwear, pressing the pads of them firmly against the soft fabric covering your clit. he rubs soft & slow, & you’re so deeply concerned by how good it feels. needless to say, this is not what you were expecting. finally, he allows himself to bring his lips down to your panties, licking the already wet spot covering the front of them. he hooks his fingers through the material around your hips, slowly pulling them down. 

your breath catches as the cool air hits your exposed skin. he lets out a low groan at the sight of you, vulnerable & wanting. his warm breath ghosts over your inner thighs as he moves closer, planting soft kisses along sensitive skin. you shiver in anticipation, hands fisting in the sheets.

he teases you mercilessly, lips & tongue exploring everywhere but where you need him most. just when you think you can't take it anymore, he finally, finally drags his tongue along your slick folds. you cry out, hips bucking involuntarily. he holds you steady with strong hands on your thighs as he works you over with his mouth, alternating between broad strokes & focused attention on your clit. his strong hands grip your thighs, holding you open for him. the pleasure builds steadily as he works you with his tongue, fucking it in & out of you, nose bumping against your clit. & when he decides that’s just not quite enough, he presses one finger softly in & out of your dripping hole. never pushing it all the way in ‘cause he doesn’t want to hurt you. 

your body tenses as the sensation builds to an almost unbearable intensity. with a muffled cry, you tumble over the edge into blissful release. waves of pleasure crash over you as your muscles clench rhythmically around his fingers. he doesn't let up, working you through each aftershock until you're gasping & oversensitive.

only then does he slowly withdraw his fingers & place a gentle kiss on your inner thigh. you lie there panting, feeling boneless & sated.

but he’s not done, you realize, hiking your thighs over his shoulders, burying his face into your cunt again. you’ve barely had time to recover & he’s starting his ministrations again, this time harder & faster, & you writhe in his grip, mewling & whimpering about it’s “t-too much, can’t-can’t take it.” 

your brain goes soft & fuzzy when he says, “you can take it, m’gonna give it to you.” you’re sure no one has ever taken more pleasure out of giving oral sex than nanami is right now. 

his tongue swirls relentlessly, finding every sensitive spot as if he's memorized your body. you arch your back, fingers tangling in his hair as waves of sensation crash over you. it's overwhelming, almost painful in its intensity, but you can't bring yourself to push him away.

"that's it," he murmurs against your flesh, the vibrations making you shudder. 

you're trembling, teetering on the edge of overstimulation. but nanami is relentless, his strong hands gripping your thighs to keep you spread open for him. you're making sounds you've never heard yourself make before—desperate, needy whimpers punctuated by breathless gasps.

just when you think you can't take anymore, he sucks hard on your clit & you shatter. your second orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, & you’re seeing spots, tugging painfully on his hair, nails raking against his spiky undercut, & he’s moaning into your cunt. if you were anywhere near coherency right now, you’d notice him pathetically humping against the mattress, mindlessly, too focused on your pretty pussy to actually get off. 

“nanami,” you whine. he looks up at you with hooded eyes, covered by his lashes. 

“did you want to stop?” 

"I-i–no, I just—you don’t have to do that anymore, not if you don’t want to.” it’s hard to say anything, to think after having his mouth on you, his tongue in you. but you do your best, try to sit up on your elbows .”we can do s-someth—”

"I'd like to continue doing this.” it’s so direct, so stern, but pleading also. "If you’re alright with that.” 

you can’t help but nod along, brain soft, thoughts gone. "y-yes," you manage to stammer out, your voice barely above a whisper. "please."

nanami's eyes flash with something intense, a mix of desire & determination. without another word, he lowers his head again, his warm breath ghosting over your sensitive skin. you shiver in anticipation, your body already yearning for his touch.

his tongue resumes its exploration, slow & deliberate at first, then growing more insistent. you fall back onto the bed, unable to support yourself any longer. your fingers tangle in his hair, not guiding, just needing something to hold onto as waves of pleasure wash over you. 

you can’t fathom what this could possibly be doing for him, but it’s obvious that he’s enjoying this in some perverse way; not that you were complaining. you lost track of how many times you came on his tongue, but a soft alarm went off in your soft, pliant head after a while. it had been a lot longer than an hour & a half. but with how good he made you feel, you didn’t think charging him was fair. 

regardless of how you felt, the next day, there was far more money than shiu had charged him & a bouquet of roses on your makeup table. all the girls ooh’ed & ahh’ed at it when you walked in. everyone wanted to see, but you kept the little note to yourself. it was thick cardstock paper that somehow smelt like his cologne. 

"I know roses are cliche, but I didn’t know what you liked. after last night, I'd love to know what else you like.”

crazy that you sent this, anon, because I literally woke up this morning wondering why I never finished this series?? I'm on it 🫡 did you like it? -> here's my masterlist -> want something more? ask me for it

[narcoticv3nus]

Catch a Ride to Heaven ❤︎ Arthur Morgan

Kinktober Day IV: Virginity

summary: rebellious reader is a sinner for her cowboy tags/trigger warnings: 18+, f!reader, virginity loss, p in v, praise, fingering, religious symbolism, cherry popping, midhonor!arthur, smoking, dom!arthur, sub!reader, rough sex, a bit of degradation, pet names, author attempts at accents wc: 5.7k

MASTERLIST

“Ma’am”

You looked up from your bible sitting on your lap, noticing a rather large man standing before you. His shoulder-length brown hair cascades down, framing his rugged features and intense blue eyes. A short beard adorns his handsome face, emphasizing the scar on his chin. Despite his rugged appearance, his smile reveals straight white teeth, complementing his sun-kissed skin with charming freckles. His well-worn cowboy hat had seen better days, colored black with a weathered rope tied around the middle and what looked to be claw marks running down the sides.

“Good morning, mister,” you answered, fiddling with the cross around your neck, trying to tame the sinful thoughts running through your mind. You had come to notice this man from afar. He would stop by your little town now and again, whether that was to buy guns or sell a suspicious amount of items at the fence nearby. Your eyes always followed him. You couldn't help it, although you tried to pray the feelings away many times. God never answered your prayers.

Your daddy was the local pastor. He was always smiling and friendly, claiming he prayed for every person he came across. He was a good man, always going out of his way to serve others. It seemed God had given him the gift of spreading his love all over, yet it seemed to run out when it came to you.

Your daddy had always been hard on you after your mama passed. Your brain was too young to remember much of her, but you could still remember the sound of her voice in your ears and the soft, comforting scent of her clothes.

Daddy said it was because he loved you; he was so strict, which you never really understood. Anytime you made a mistake or a mishap, Daddy would sharpen you back into shape, sometimes going to extreme measures. The bruises on your behind still stung when you sat down.

He never permitted you to be alone around other men, claiming you had to stay pure in the eyes of God or else you'd burn in hell for all eternity for spreading your legs for no-goods. He said men only wanted one thing, but he never specified what. It didn't take you long to figure it out. You were a smart girl. At least, that's what everybody said.

You didn't feel smart now as Daddy’s teachings drifted from the back of your mind like a cloud of smoke, thoughts of purity and maidenhood be damned. God knows you tried to resist them, and you really did. To push those thoughts aside, burn them, shut them out as much as you could.

But wouldn't he have answered your prayers if God were all-loving? Heaven knows you wanted to be a good girl. You did, truly! But there was something about this man that had your body growing warm, his deep southern drawl reaching into deep parts of you you never even knew existed. He had your voice growing shy, your hands feeling clammy as your thighs pressed together, desperate to soothe that sweet ache between your legs.

Sometimes, he would compliment you, saying he liked your dress or how you style your hair.

“May I say you're lookin’ lovely' today, little lady.” You swallowed deeply, your lips parting as you gazed up at him, eyes wide. “Thank-thank you, mister,” you stammered, your cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

“You…you're awfully kind.” You continued, not being able to help yourself. How could you stay away when you yearned for him so deeply?

“I ain’t really,” he answered bluntly, his eyes boring deep into yours, the corners of his lips twitching into a grin. You've seen that same look on many men before, but only he had your heart racing with want.

“Maybe just to pretty ladies like yourself,” he continued, his hand reaching up to scratch his stubble chin.

If your face wasn't on fire before, it sure was now. You didn't know what to say as you began to stutter, sweat building between your legs and inside of your bodice. “I don't—” Your fingers curled around your cross, praying to God to give you strength or show mercy.

“What’s your name anyway?” He spoke up for you, reaching into his back pocket to pull out a pack of premium cigarettes. He placed the stick between his lips as he held the lighter close to his face, raising a brow when you lacked a response.

You gave him your name. Your eyes were bashful as they looked down at his shoes, noting the quality of the leather and his metal spurs.

“Ain't that lovely,” he responded, gray tendrils of cigarette smoke escaping his nose, his eyes never straying from your face.

“What’s yours?” you asked, fighting to keep your voice steady as your subconscious body seemed to float away, high into the sky and never to be seen again. You've never felt so euphoric. If it was wrong, how come it felt so right?

“Arthur,” he answered, tapping the ash from the end of the stick away into the dirt. “Arthur Morgan,”

“Well, it… it's very nice to meet you, Mr. Morgan,” you said politely, part of you hoping to appease him. It seemed to work as his grin grew wider, his teeth poking out from behind his pink lips.

“Yeah,” he agreed, his eyes looking you up and down. “You too,” he said, emphasizing your name before exhaling another cloud of smoke. You bit your lip to hold back the whine building in your chest. “Well, I’ll let you get back to it. I just wanted to put a name to a face s’all.”

You wanted to tell him, no, to please stay, just a little longer. And yet you only watch in silence as he dipped his hat to you before turning and striding in the other direction. You watched him go, eyes drifting low to his backside, appreciating the natural sway of his hips as he left.

My Lord, please give me strength.

You and Arthur had met several more times after that. He'd sometimes saunter up to you after church, asking about your day and flirting with you right in front of the house of God, sometimes even in front of your Daddy.

Daddy had given you a good whooping after that, reminding you to stay away from that man if you know what's good for you. But you just couldn't, no matter how hard you tried. Lord knows you did.

But like Eve and the serpent, Arthur offered you the tastiest treat you couldn't refuse. Why did it feel so good if these feelings were so condemned? You started questioning your faith the more Arthur lingered around, and you started to fear for your sake. Maybe he was no good after all. Perhaps this was all a test.

But no horns were sprouting from the outlaw’s head, no devil’s tail swaying mischievously behind his back, he had no red eyes, and no white fangs. And despite what the poets might say, he had no slimy forked tongue. And you would know, counting how many times your eyes had fallen to his mouth as he spoke. Each time his tongue ran over his lips, yours would do the same.

There came a time when he placed a hand on your shoulder, leaning close to your face when he asked to buy you a room somewhere for the night. His cold eyes burn through you. You knew you should've said no, refused the forbidden fruit, and asked him to leave you alone for good. You were a child of God, blessed without sin, and designed for purity. But those would all be lies. No one is without sin. You thought as you nodded, your breath shaky and your cheeks stained red.

Daddy will raise hell. You reminded yourself, but it was already too late. You sealed your fate when you decided to shake hands with the devil.

As Arthur led you up the stairs, his hand entangled with yours, his heavy footsteps echoed throughout the hotel, the wooden floors creaking under his weight.

He opened the door for you to enter the small and empty room, the hair rising on the back of your neck as he followed close behind you. “Arthur, I—” you stammered when it dawned on you, realizing what you were about to do.

“Shh, don't be nervous,” he soothed as a heavy hand rested on your hip, sliding up your waist. “I’ll take good care of you,” he reassured, gently removing his hat and placing it on the night table beside the bed.

Like a predator circling its prey, he stalked around your body until he stood in front of you, both hands on your hips as he smiled down at you. He was so close. You almost let out a whine of fear, eyes glued to his teeth to ensure he didn't have fangs, just in case.

“I promise I don't bite,” he chuckled, almost like he could read your thoughts. Maybe he could. He leaned close to your ear, his warm breath tickling your skin, sending shivers down your spine. “Unless you want me to.”

You couldn't hold back the whimper that escaped you, anxiety and desire twisting and churning in your stomach, leaving you speechless.

“I've never…” Your voice trailed off, the words getting lodged in you as Arthur hummed in response, seemingly unsurprised.

“I figured,” he chuckled, confirming your suspicions. “Sweet, innocent things like you usually are,” he grinned, flicking the cross against your chest. You weren't sure what to make of that.

“We just won't tell ‘em, ay?” he let out a huff of amusement, reaching back to unclasp the necklace around your neck.

“Wait,” you halted him, gazing at his confused expression. “I…I want to leave it on,” you murmured, eyes drifting downwards, hoping you hadn't disappointed him. You weren't sure why you wanted it to stay; it didn't make sense logically. He was right; you should put it away, considering what you were about to do—what you were about to let him do to you.

However, something about it gave you a sense of peace or reassurance: even though you were betraying everything you were ever taught, everything you've ever known, God was still there, and he still loved you. Maybe giving in to your deepest desires could reconnect you to him in some way, that finding pleasure in the most sinful of ways wasn't sinful at all. Wouldn't he want you to feel good if he really loved you? To take what you want?

He was silent momentarily before he removed his hands from your grasp. Here it comes. You thought, eyes shutting, waiting for his disapproval.

His fingers grasped your chin, tilting it upwards, his thumb rubbing softly over your bottom lip. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that.” his voice cutting through the silence. “You can do whatever you like, darlin’.” his low, warm voice was gentle and consoling, offering comfort instead of pain.

“Thank you,” you breathed a heavy sigh of relief, your eyes gazing up at him with adoration, yet your hands continued clutching your dress, unsure of where to put them.

He hummed again, taking your small hands in his much larger ones, gently urging them towards him. You gasped as your fingers made contact with his skin, like it was the most lewd thing you've ever done. It might as well have been.

“I should be thankin’ you,” he responded, lifting your right hand to meet his lips, kissing your knuckles with a sweet softness you've never known. “Ain’t every day I meet a pretty girl like you.” he charmed, stepping closer towards you, your body stiff with nerves.

“I thought you said you were always nice to pretty girls.” You recollected, thinking back to the time you were first properly introduced.

“Well, I might've lied. Just a bit,” Arthur smirked, chuckling at your shocked expression. “They're not always as sweet as you,” he whispered, his face inching closer to yours. As your noses brushed together, he tilted his face to the side, one hand reaching up to guide your face to do the same in the opposite direction.

“Arthur, I don't know–” “It's alright,” he hushed, his breath hot against your lips. “Just follow my lead, alright?” You nodded slowly, taking a deep breath when he requested you to. “Close your eyes,” he whispered, the thin hairs of his beard tickling your cheeks. “Now, breathe out. Slow.”

As the cool air inside your chest unfurled from your lungs, his mouth pressed against yours. You squeaked in surprise, squeezing your eyes shut as his lips moved against yours. His hands smoothed down your lower back, pushing you closer until his erection was pressing up against your stomach.

You moaned into his lips, your body set ablaze as you struggled to kiss him back, your movements stiff and uncoordinated. He pulled away, a deep chuckle leaving his chest, causing you to squirm in shame.

“Just relax, sweetheart.” he purred, the fingers undoing the top buttons of your dress. “Don't be so nervous,”

“Easy for you to say,” you huffed, watching as his hands descended to each button, opening it with practiced fingers. He laughed, kissing your forehead with a smile. “I know, but just trust me.”

Trust me.

This was the most trust you've ever put in anyone you've ever met in your entire life. Here, this man was undressing you so calmly, like it was the most casual thing in the world. It probably was, to him. How many girls has he been with? You thought almost bitterly, jealousy spiking at him cherishing any other woman like this.

Every man you've ever met has bragged about how many girls he's bedded, whether they were modest wives or working whores, it didn't matter. It didn't matter if the man was handsome or ugly, rich or poor, dirty or clean. They all had the same goal in mind. Maybe Daddy was right. You thought anxiously as your dress fell into a pool around your ankles, leaving you in your bodice. Perhaps you were just another notch under Arthur’s belt. Even Daddy would stumble home with his clothes undone and lipstick stains adorning his neck.

Maybe Arthur is different. Maybe he's a good man.

“What's goin’ on up there,” Arthur asked teasingly, yet concern still laced around the edges of his voice. “If you don't want this–”

“I do!” You interrupted quickly, hands latching onto the front of his shirt, your lips puckering in embarrassment. “Sorry, I–I'm just nervous s’all.”

“I know,” he said, his arms resting against your upper arms, rubbing his calloused hands over your soft skin. “I understand. We’ll take it slow.” He promised, leaning forward to capture your lips in another kiss. He held his lips against yours this time, letting you adjust to him as his fingers deftly coiled around the strings of your bodice, slowly unlacing them one by one.

“S’been awhile myself,” he admitted, hoping to soothe you in some way as he took his time undressing you until you were left in only your bloomers, standing still with your face hot and your lips chewed raw.

“You don't…” you hesitated, wondering if you even wanted to know the answer. “…do this often?” You finally inquired as his eyes filtered over your exposed form. “Nah…” he answered, hands running all along your body.

“Well… once upon a time, maybe.” he grinned at you wickedly, his white teeth gleaming underneath his self-satisfied smirk. He laughed, finding the expression you subconsciously made amusing.

“Don't get all jealous now. It ain't like that anymore.” He promised, unbuttoning his clothes this time, undoing his vest, and taking off his short sleeve. “I wouldn't take advantage of someone like you,” he reassured, undoing his suspenders until he was left in nothing but his pants with his gun belt still sitting heavy over his hips and gun holster attached to his side.

Your eyes roamed to a large expanse of his chest, thick, coarse hair sprouting from his skin and leaving a path down into his pants. “Now,” he started again, your eyes snapping back to his face.

“Go sit on the bed for me,” he commanded, his tone firm yet tender, a heavy hand smoothing over your head. After letting his words sink in, you did as you were told. You knocked off your shoes as you sat at the edge, trying to avoid his gaze. With a simple click, he pulled the gun belt from around his pants and set it down near his hat, his holster following suit.

“Take ‘em off,” he instructed, his eyes studying your face as he undid his belt, waiting for you to undress. You clutched the warm off-white fabric of your clothes, your breaths coming in shaky, knowing you were about to expose your body to a man; you've never felt so vulnerable.

“I won't ask you again,” he threatened, his lips tightening as his eyes narrowed. “I have no problem takin’ you back home.” Just the thought of home had fear swirling in your gut. You'd instead take this than face your daddy. You knew it was unavoidable, but you'd rather it at least be worth it.

You nodded your head swiftly, standing back up to shed yourself of your underclothes until you were left in nothing but a necklace sitting on your naked chest. The cold surface of its metal and the cool air caused your skin to rise in goosebumps, your nipples perking in response.

“Good girl,” he purred, eyes drinking in your naked form with a dark hunger you've never seen. The spurs of his boots clicked as he reached forward, carefully sliding them off before setting them aside.

As you sat back against the bed, your fingers reached up again, clasping your cross, letting its sharper ridges poke against your skin.

“Don’t be scared now,” you gasped as his pants fell to the floor, his cock finally springing free mere inches from your face. Your jaw practically dropped to the floor as you stared. You've never seen one before. Do they all look like that? Are they always this big?

“You okay?” he laughed, strutting towards you, his cock bobbing between his thighs, hanging low towards the floor. Up close, you could see every vein protruding from underneath his foreskin, a strange liquid shining at the tip.

“Um…” you were at a loss for words, unable to look away. “What if it doesn't… y’know,” Arthur tilted his head to the side as he neared, hands on your waist as he urged you back further. “…fit?” You finished with a squeak as your head hit the pillow below, and your hair splayed out behind you.

You peered up at him, curious as his cheeks dusted into a dark shade of pink. Was he embarrassed? Did I offend him? “It’ll fit,” he said, looking away almost bashfully. “Gotta prepare you first,”

Prepare me?

He leaned forward until his forearms rested against either side of your head, trapping you underneath his body. Soft brown hair strands framed his face as he leaned closer, and front pieces fell over his thick brows.

You gazed into his clear blue eyes, deep as the sea, with a warm yellow ring around his black irises, reminding you of the sun’s rays casting light across blue skies. His eyes flickered between yours, seemingly searching for something before his lips connected to yours once more, his hairy chest pressing against your breasts.

Reaching up with shaky hands, you entangled them into his hair, resting them gently in fear of maybe hurting him. “That’s it…” he encouraged, his hand finding yours, interlocking your fingers, and pressing them to the bed.

“Just breathe,” he reminded before kissing you again, his cock twitching against your thigh, subtly rutting against you. You did as you were told: in and out. You thought to yourself as you practiced slow breaths until your heartbeat slowed to a semi-normal pace. “You got it,” he smiled into the kiss before continuing down your neck, rubbing his lips over sensitive skin.

You whimpered, your hand tightening against his as he lowered even further, reaching your chest. He let out a deep groan as he pressed his face against your breast, taking a nipple into his mouth to suck.

You looked down at him in shock, unsure what to do as he began rutting harder against you. Is this what people do? You were so confused, your thoughts racing a mile a minute. He let go with a slow suck, his heavy eyes meeting yours once more.

“Have I sprouted three heads?” he chuckled, worrying his lip with his top teeth. You shook your head, one hand gripping his shoulder to balance yourself.

“I don't… am I doing this, right?” As you whispered, your face flushed with warmth, and you squeezed his hand tightly, seeking comfort.

“You don't gotta worry your pretty little head over nothin’,” he said as his fingers dipped between your bodies, tracing over your thighs before nearing your pussy. You could feel its dampness trickle between your legs and into the sheets, your little pearl throbbing with need.

“You're perfect,” he murmured, his gaze softening into an emotion you've only seen flicker in his eyes and disappear as if it was never there. But this time, it stayed; it settled for you.

You didn't know what to say, so you opted not to speak; the silence spoke for itself as you stared back. The hand in Arthur’s hair cupped his stubble cheek, urging him closer before kissing his lips. He grunted at the contact, his tongue prodding the entrance of your mouth, forcing it to open before it slid inside.

No fork. The thought popped into your mind as Arthur’s tongue slid against yours, massaging the wet muscle with flicks of his own.

The hand against your leg reached underneath your thigh, lifting it around his waist before dipping back between your legs. You gasped into his mouth as his thumb reached underneath your hood, finding your pulsing clit and pressing down, moving in slow and deliberate circles. You moaned out; never once had you felt anything so amazing in your entire life. You had never touched yourself down there before; shame always held you back, and now you regret it.

All those times you refused your aching body with release almost seem abusive looking back now.

“Oh, Arthur,” you gasped into his mouth as he continued, your hips lifting to try and chase the addicting sensation.

“It feels so…” You couldn't even find the words to describe the feeling. It would be useless to try to explain it now.

“Like that?” he groaned, picking up the pace of his movements as his other fingers teased your entrance, coating his calluses in your essence. You nodded, mouth still open as broken whines and whimpers escaped your wet lips. You arched your back, your face falling to the side as you squeezed his hand, nails biting into the flesh of his skin. Arthur didn't seem to notice; if he did, he didn't show it, fully enraptured by your sensitive flesh.

“Christ, you're so wet.” Arthur didn't mean anything by it, but the mention of a name so holy during a time like this had your thighs closing around his forearms, trapping his hand against you.

He was also right. You don't think you've ever been this wet in your entire life. “Don't stop, Arthur.” You pleaded, trying to reopen your legs to give him more room.

“Wouldn't dream of it, sweetheart,” came his husky reply. You sighed at his words, more so the thickness of his voice.

“Wider, darlin’,” he grunted, his middle finger catching onto the rim of your hole. “Gotta stretch you nice and proper, so you can take my cock.”

“Arthur!” you whined, embarrassed by his words, throwing an arm over your eyes. He laughed breathlessly, his movements slowing down. “Thas’ what you want, ain’t it?” He urged his finger, slowly inserting itself as you bucked upwards, trying to chase the dwindling pleasure.

You whimpered in reply, opening your legs further, allowing him to slip his finger in deeper. It was so thick and so warm, your pussy welcoming him with wet pulses as he slowly moved it in and out. The pain was sharp but was slowly replaced as his finger curled deeper, reaching places you weren't aware even existed.

“There’s a girl,” he rasped, eyes glancing between your face and your slippery cunt before adding a second finger. He wasn't deterred by the small amounts of blood coating his digits, only focused on making you feel as good as possible while preparing you to take him.

“You're doing so well.” he sighed, twisting his fingers before spreading them into scissoring motions, completely enraptured as your pussy convulsed around him, spilling more and more slick as his fingers quickened their pace.

The only sound in the room was your deep moans and the sloppy sound of your wet pussy getting fucked by his hand. Arthur shifted his wrist so the edge of his palm rubbed against your sensitive button, curling his hands deep against your G-spot and smirking in triumph once he found it.

“There it is,” he chuckled as he gazed upon your expression. Your thighs slammed closed around his wrist as you arched your back deeply, feeling your spine ache in protest, but you didn't care.

“Ah! Right there!” You squeezed his hand with all your strength as a new sensation built in your stomach. Something was coming.

“Arthur!” You whimpered; your free hand reached towards his wrist, which was now twisting with more force as his fingers pumped faster, harder.

“Wait! It’s—I’m,” Arthur was quick to silence you with another deep kiss, yet you couldn't kiss him back as much as you wanted, your mouth struggling to stay closed as whorish noises forced their way out.

“Just let go, honey,” he groaned, the heel of his palm digging deeper. “It's alright, just let go.” His voice was so thick and coarse, so warm and so rich, so deep and so guttural you couldn't help but fall victim to his spell.

With one final wail, you felt something rush out of you, something liquid but didn’t quite feel like pee. All you knew was that it felt good.

I hope this is what heaven feels like.

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, your voice growing tight as Arthur continued his pace, helping you ride out your high before eventually slowing, dragging out your orgasm for as long as he could.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he moaned, taking in your debauched state with a proud smile. Your hair was in disarray, strands sticking to your sweaty skin as your eyes fluttered, lashes resting against your darkened cheeks, and your eyebrows drawn close. Your lips were wet and rubbed red from his kisses, drool lewdly sticking to the corners of your mouth. Your naked chest heaved, your cross still sitting in between your breasts.

“You alright?” Arthur chuckled, slowly removing his fingers from your wet heat and wiping the mixed residue on the sheets.

“I never wanted it to stop,” you whimpered at the empty feeling inside you.

“I know that's right,” he agreed with a chuckle, squeezing your hand one final time before letting it go. You gazed up at him sheepishly, your hands reaching out to grab his forearms, letting your hands feel the warmth of his skin.

He hoisted your hips upwards, wrapping your thighs around his waist before leaning forward, his palm cupping your cheek before slotting his mouth against yours. Your eyes fell closed as you lost yourself in the kiss, unaware as his hips shifted forward.

With one hand around his cock, he pumped it generously, coating his dick in precum as he guided it toward your entrance.

“Big inhale for me, darlin’,” he requested one final time. You did as you were told, breathing in a large gulp of air before you felt something catch against your rim and push inside, filling you inch by inch as the air caught in your throat.

“And out,” he grunted, pushing his cock to the hilt, forcing himself deep inside, cursing as you clamped around him. He swore he'd felt traps looser than this.

Your exhale was probably closer to a sob. You've never felt so full in your whole life. Although the stretch wasn't nearly as painful as you imagined it would be. There was just so much pressure.

“You're doing good, fuck, just keep breathing.” he panted, barely even able to pull back with how tight you were clutching him. You nodded when trying to focus on his words as his cock throbbed inside of you.

“Good?” he grunted, his face twisted into something akin to pain, his heavy brows pulled forward, his face creasing as his eyes threatened to squeeze shut despite his resistance to keep them open. He sucked on his lower lip, struggling to concentrate as your wet heat pulsed around him.

“It feels… full.”

He groaned in response, thrusting up into you until his pretty cock punched against that spongy spot, causing you to kean, your body squirming, unsure if it wanted to pull away or chase the feeling.

“It's too much,” you whimpered, your hands pushing against his abdomen before he took your wrists in one hand, forcing them above your head as he rocked against you, fucking his cock in and out in slow yet deep thrusts.

“Take it,” he practically growled, his warm gaze turning cold as he towered above you, one hand enclosing around your hip as leverage, manipulating your body up and down in time with his thrusts.

“God, fucking take it,” he accentuated each word with a powerful shove, your skin slapping loudly each time they met. You couldn't even use anything to stabilize yourself, his fist wrapped firmly around your hands, holding them down with ease.

You were forced to take the onslaught of pleasure, tears welling up in your eyes as you cried out with movement, each jamming of his cock against your sore, sensitive pussy.

“Arthur!” you sobbed, your body squirming desperately underneath him, attempting to run away from his battering hips that grew faster with each minute that passed.

“Yeah, say my name,” he moaned, his eyes falling shut as his lips parted, deep pants escaping his chest with every movement. “Go on, say it again,” he reopened his eyes, glaring down at you with a look of something fierce.

“Arthur!” You moaned, pleading with your eyes for him to slow down. He smiled wide, letting go of your wrists, urging you to wrap your arms around his shoulders as he leaned in close, chest to chest.

“Am I being too rough?” he teased, pecking your lips tenderly as he slowed to a softer grind, allowing you a bit of grace.

“It's okay,” you panted, nails digging into the hard muscles of his back, closing your eyes in bliss as his thick cock ruined you for anyone else. “You can go faster… if you want,” you gripped him by his arms, burying your face in his neck, shyly kissing the expanse of his throat.

He let out another deep groan, his hand resting behind your head, pulling you closer as his other curled into the sheets below you, fucking up into you at a steady pace. You held onto him tightly, knowing you wouldn't last much longer.

“It's coming again,” you warned, your voice high-pitched and airy as you struggled to breathe, feeling as though he was fucking into your lungs.

Arthur leaned upwards, letting you fall back onto the bed as he took hold of your waist, his unoccupied thumb pressed down against your clit, rubbing fast circles as he urged you to finish.

“You’re almost there,” he grunted, watching as his cock reappeared before disappearing back inside you, the base coated in your milky arousal.

“You got it, c’mon,”

You reached behind you, fingers curling into the sheets below as you arched in his touch, gasping for air as the sweet pleasure built quicker, coming in faster and harder. “M’so close, Arthur.”

“Yeah, I know,” he cursed, fucking himself deeper, trying to get as much of himself inside as possible.

“I can feel you squeezin’ me,” whines began to escape his lips, sounds you never thought you'd hear him make.

“Does it feel good?” you asked, barely holding on as the thread threatened to break. You watched Arthur’s shoulders shake with what looked to be laughter, his thrusts stuttering before picking back up again.

“Yes,” he dipped his head to the side with a hiss, his thumb pressing harder against your delicate pearl. “Feels so fuckin’ good, sweetheart,”

Something about the nickname did it for you. It was said with affection and lust, smooth as silk and sweet as strawberry wine. Arthur’s voice was thick and rich, slipping into your ears and knocking around in your brain.

You came with his name on your tongue, crying to the heavens above, knowing that even if God has turned back on you now, at least you’ll suffer knowing you were loved in some way by someone. You felt his nose nuzzle into the side of your neck, his hips slowing into something almost romantic.

You felt him place a kiss on your shoulder, almost as a silent apology, before drawing back and slamming forward, fucking you so fast and so deep the frame of the headboard knocked against the wall over and over. You held onto him for dear life as he used you for his pleasure, groaning uncontrollably in your ear.

“Almost there, fuck,” he whimpered, his hold on you tightening to something almost painful before he pulled out swiftly, pumping his cock at an inhumane pace before shooting white ropes across your stomach. He came loudly, teetering near a shout. Every time you thought it was over, more and more kept coming out, eventually spilling onto his hand and running down his length.

He glanced down at the cross, rising and falling with every movement of your chest. He smirked, holding it up in his clean hand, his thumb smoothing over the protruding patterns.

At least now he can say for certain where he’s truly going.

“C’mon, darlin, let's get you cleaned up.”

main masterlist, rules

[jhyoos]

Dreams Come True

Chapter 5: Stalker

summary: you and vi try to discuss what your relationship is now and how this should work, but it was interrupted by a blue-haired girl.

mentions: fluff, pathetic!vi, fame!au, modern!au, kissing, groping, stalking (saesangs), violence, choking (not by vi tho 😔)

notes : i did this while sick and on my period. it has not been proofread 😭. love yall 🫵🩷 im also resetting my taglist for this so if you want to be tagged for the next chapter comment!

The sun hung low in the sky, its golden rays spilling across the bustling streets as you and Mel stepped out of the practice studio. Your legs ached from the grueling rehearsal, but Mel’s persistent prodding about getting ice cream had finally worn you down. She strolled beside you, her duffle bag slung lazily over her shoulder, an almost mischievous grin plastered across her face.

The bell above the shop door chimed softly as you entered, the cool air inside offering a sweet reprieve from the lingering afternoon heat. The scent of freshly baked waffle cones filled the air, mingling with the bright, sugary notes of the various ice cream flavors on display. The shop was quaint and cozy, with pastel-colored walls and little booths tucked into corners.

After some debate, you both settled on your orders—Mel opting for a double scoop of chocolate fudge brownie while you stuck with a classic strawberry swirl. Finding a table by the window, the two of you slid into the booth, the faint chatter of other patrons blending into the background.

“So,” Mel began, her spoon poised above her ice cream as she leaned in slightly, “are you going to tell me, or am I going to have to pry it out of you?”

You gave her a confused look, though you knew exactly where this was heading. “Tell you what?” you replied, feigning innocence as you took a bite of your ice cream.

“Oh, don’t play dumb with me,” she teased, narrowing her eyes. “Vi. You two were all cozy at the club, and now you’re walking around with this dreamy little smile on your face. Spill it.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the blush creeping up your cheeks. “There’s nothing to spill,” you said, shrugging. “We haven’t confirmed anything yet.”

Mel’s spoon clattered against the side of her bowl as she gasped dramatically. “Yet? So, you’re telling me there’s a ‘yet.’ What does that mean? Did you two talk? Kiss? Make declarations of undying love under the moonlight?”

“Mel!” you hissed, though you couldn’t help but laugh at her theatrics. “Okay, fine. Yes, we talked. And... we might have said ‘I love you.’”

Her jaw dropped, and for a moment, she just stared at you in disbelief before breaking into a wide grin. “Oh my God, you’re back together, aren’t you?”

You shook your head. “No, not yet. It’s... complicated. We’re figuring things out.”

Mel’s teasing expression softened slightly as she leaned back in her seat. “Well, for what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re giving her another chance. You two were kind of disgustingly perfect together.”

You rolled your eyes again but smiled, a small, hopeful feeling blooming in your chest. As you sat there, sharing laughs and finishing your ice cream, you realized how much you’d missed moments like these—simple, carefree, and filled with the warmth of friendship. For now, that was enough.

The peaceful moment in the ice cream shop was abruptly interrupted by a loud knock on the window. Startled, you and Mel both turned your heads toward the sound. Outside stood a small group of fans, their excited faces pressed against the glass. Some of them had phones in hand, already snapping pictures.

You smiled politely and gave a small wave, as did Mel, though her grin was a bit tighter. “Guess we’ve got some fans in the neighborhood,” she murmured, trying to sound casual.

At first, it didn’t seem too serious—just a few people recognizing the two of you and sharing their enthusiasm. But as the seconds ticked by, the crowd began to grow. More people gathered outside, camera flashes illuminating the window in quick bursts. Their murmurs grew louder, and some started knocking again, calling out your name.

You exchanged a concerned look with Mel, who quickly glanced toward the door. “I don’t like this,” you admitted, lowering your voice. “It’s getting out of hand.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Mel replied, scanning the shop. “Let’s get out of here.”

You hastily placed cash on the table to cover the bill, grabbed your bag, and reached for Mel’s hand. Together, you ducked toward the back exit, keeping your heads low to avoid drawing even more attention. The two of you slipped through the rear door into the parking lot, your steps quickening as you approached Mel’s car.

Once inside, Mel made sure to lock the doors immediately. You glanced nervously over your shoulder as you spotted some of the fans spilling into the lot, their phones held high as they rushed toward the car. “They’re taking pictures of your license plate,” you said in a hushed voice, your stomach knotting.

“Not for long,” Mel muttered, her hands steady on the steering wheel as she started the car. She pulled out of the parking lot, her jaw set in determination. The fans ran after the car for a few seconds, some shouting and continuing to record. Mel turned onto a side street, taking back routes she clearly knew well.

The tension in the car was palpable as she zigzagged through the unfamiliar streets, checking the rearview mirror every few seconds. After what felt like an eternity, she finally let out a breath. “Okay, I think we lost them.”

Your own sigh of relief filled the car as you leaned back against the seat. The adrenaline was still coursing through you, making your heart pound. “Holy shit, that was intense,” you said, shaking your head. “We just debuted... I didn’t think we were that popular.”

Mel laughed nervously, her hands still gripping the wheel tightly. “Yeah, I thought we had some time before all this crazy fan stuff started. Guess not.”

You looked out the window, trying to process what had just happened. Your thoughts were interrupted as Mel’s voice pulled you back to the present. “Where should I drop you off?” she asked, her tone steady but still tinged with concern.

You gave her the address to Vi’s apartment, leaning back in your seat and letting out a sigh. “Make sure you change your license plate as soon as possible,” you added, your voice slightly strained from the earlier chaos.

Mel nodded with a small grin. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it handled. No way I’m letting some overly excited fans track me down.”

When you arrived at Vi’s apartment, you thanked Mel and watched her car pull away before heading upstairs. You still had the key Vi gave you, so you let yourself in. The familiar creak of the door echoed in the apartment, and you were immediately greeted by the sight of Vi sprawled lazily on the couch, a bag of Doritos in one hand and a Dr. Pepper can in the other. She was watching The Boys with the volume high, her focus on a particularly dramatic scene.

Hearing the door, she turned her head and smirked when she saw you. “Hey, hot stuff. Sit down,” she said casually, patting the empty spot on the couch beside her.

You couldn’t help but smile as you set your bag down and joined her. “Aren’t hockey players supposed to be on diets? You’re eating Doritos and drinking Dr. Pepper,” you teased, gesturing at the junk food scattered on the coffee table.

Vi chuckled, shrugging as she took another sip of soda. “Well, I’m not an idol, am I? And besides, I need the calories. Helps me bulk up, and you like that, don’t you?” she teased back, giving you a playful wink.

You rolled your eyes, a soft laugh escaping your lips. “You’re ridiculous.”

The moment was interrupted by a notification on your phone. Your smile faded as you opened it to find a TMZ article detailing your earlier encounter at the ice cream shop with Mel. The headline was bold and dramatic, emphasizing how close you and Mel came to being trampled by a growing crowd of fans.

Vi immediately noticed the change in your expression. “What’s wrong?” she asked, leaning over to grab your phone before you could stop her. Her brows furrowed as she read the headline, her expression shifting to concern. “You almost got attacked by fans?”

You shook your head, trying to downplay it. “We didn’t, so it’s okay. It’s normal… I just didn’t think it was gonna happen so soon,” you admitted, your voice quieter than usual.

Vi placed your phone down and turned her full attention to you. “Baby, your group’s account has over 12 million followers across Twitter, Instagram, and TikTok combined. Of course, you’re popular,” she said matter-of-factly. Her tone softened as she added, “You should probably get a bodyguard.”

You let out a small sigh, leaning back against the couch. “I didn’t think I’d need one this early on. I just want to enjoy things like going out for ice cream, you know? Without all… that.”

Vi reached out, taking your hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I get it. But your safety comes first, okay? We’ll figure it out.”

The next few weeks settled into a comfortable routine: you and Vi alternating between each other's apartments to talk, cuddle, have sex, and then cuddle again before practice. It was a rhythm that felt natural, almost like you were already in a relationship—but Vi hadn’t asked you to be her girlfriend, nor had she even hinted at it. The silence on that front gnawed at you, and today you decided to finally bring it up.

When you unlocked the door to Vi’s apartment, ready to address the question head-on, you were greeted by an unexpected sight. Standing in the middle of the living room was a tall, elegant woman with striking blue hair. Her posture was effortless, exuding a kind of natural grace that instantly caught your attention. The two of you locked eyes for what felt like an eternity before Vi appeared from the hallway, her usual confident grin plastered across her face.

“Hey, baby,” Vi greeted casually as she walked up, slinging an arm around the woman’s shoulder. “This is my friend Caitlyn. We’re gonna be modeling together for Vogue.”

You looked between Vi and Caitlyn, your mind scrambling to process what you were seeing. Caitlyn was stunning, her poise and beauty making her seem almost unreal. When she extended her hand for a handshake, it was with the kind of grace that made even that simple gesture look elegant.

“Hi, I’m Caitlyn. I’m an ice skater,” she said, her voice smooth and polite.

You accepted the handshake, your own movements feeling stiff in comparison. “Hi, I’m (Y/N),” you replied, your voice steady despite the sudden tightness in your chest.

Caitlyn’s eyes lit up in recognition. “Oh, I knew you looked familiar! You’re from the group AURORA. You look even prettier in person,” she said with an easy smile.

“Oh, thank you,” you managed, forcing a polite smile in return. Your eyes darted to Vi, searching her face for any kind of explanation or acknowledgment of how awkward this felt.

Before you could say anything else, you tried to speak, “Hey, can we talk in priv—” but Vi cut you off by leaning in and kissing you. Her hand casually slid to your ass, giving it a quick squeeze before she pulled back.

“I’m sorry, but I gotta go,” Vi said nonchalantly, as if the entire situation was completely normal. She grabbed her things and started heading toward the door. “We’ve got interviews and stuff downtown, so I’ll just be staying with Ellie and Abby in their penthouse for the week.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but Vi barely gave you the chance. “I love you,” she said casually over her shoulder as she opened the door, holding it for Caitlyn to follow her out.

And then they were gone.

You stood in the middle of the living room, staring at the closed door in stunned silence. The sound of the lock clicking into place felt deafening in the otherwise quiet apartment. Confusion churned in your mind as you tried to piece together what had just happened.

Vi’s words echoed in your head. I love you. Yet she’d just left you standing here, no explanation, no conversation about the questions you’d been holding onto for weeks. All of it—her sudden departure, the presence of Caitlyn, and the way she’d brushed off your attempt to talk—left a bitter taste in your mouth. You couldn’t help but wonder: was this love, or was it just convenience?

Hours of stress cleaning had left Vi’s apartment spotless, every surface shining like new. Yet despite your efforts to distract yourself, your thoughts remained restless. Finally, you decided you couldn’t stay there any longer. You changed into one of Vi’s oversized hoodies, the familiar scent bringing a small measure of comfort, and grabbed your bag before heading out the door.

Instead of going straight home, you decided to stop by a nearby burger joint. Your stomach grumbled, reminding you that you hadn’t eaten all day. Once inside, you ordered a burger and fries to go, leaning against the counter as you waited. The minutes dragged on, but eventually, your order number was called. You thanked the cashier, grabbing the bag with a polite smile before heading back to your car.

As you approached your car, keys in hand, a tall man suddenly stepped into your path. His presence was unnerving, but his expression didn’t immediately raise any alarms.

“You’re (Y/N) from AURORA, right?” he asked, his tone overly enthusiastic. “I’m a really big fan. Can I have an autograph?”

You forced a polite smile, trying to keep things cordial. “I’m sorry, I’m kinda busy right now,” you said, hoping he’d take the hint.

But he didn’t. Instead, he stepped closer, his demeanor shifting from eager to insistent. “Come on, just a quick one. It’ll only take a second,” he pressed.

Before you could respond, his eyes drifted to the hoodie you were wearing, his expression darkening. His nostrils flared as he caught the faint scent of cologne clinging to the fabric. Without warning, his hand shot out and grabbed your wrist tightly, making you drop the bag of food.

“What man were you with?!” he demanded, his voice seething with anger. “I thought I watched you carefully enough!”

Panic surged through you as you tried to pull away. “Sir, I don’t know who you are! Please let go of me!” you pleaded, your voice trembling.

His grip tightened, and before you could react, his hand moved to your throat, squeezing with terrifying force. You clawed at his arm, gasping for air, your vision starting to blur.

“Sir, please…” you choked out, your voice barely audible.

His expression twisted with rage. “If I can’t have you, no one can,” he growled, his grip unrelenting.

Just as the edges of your vision began to go dark, you felt the pressure on your neck suddenly release. You collapsed to the ground, gasping for air and clutching at your bruised throat. Blinking through tears, you saw the man being yanked backward and slammed to the ground.

The commotion drew a crowd, and amidst the chaos, you caught sight of your rescuer. Recognition flickered as you realized it was Ekko, Jinx’s boyfriend. His face was steely with anger as he held the man down, delivering a punch to keep him subdued.

Moments later, Jinx appeared, rounding the corner in search of Ekko. Her eyes widened in horror as she took in the scene: Ekko restraining the man on the ground, and you, sitting on the pavement with a large bruise forming around your neck.

“Oh my god, (Y/N)!” Jinx yelled, rushing toward you. She pushed through the small crowd of onlookers, waving them off as she knelt beside you. “Are you okay? The cops are on their way,” she said, her voice full of worry as she helped you to your feet.

You tried to nod, but the effort was too much. The adrenaline draining from your body left you weak and unsteady, and the edges of your vision blurred again. You immediately fell back on to the ground, Jinx caught you as she held you carefully. The last thing you heard was Jinx calling your name before everything went black.

chapters: one, two, christmas special, three, four , five

edit announcement: it’s a double upload today so expect chapter 6 in a few hours!

[bestwitchsam]

New skin Savior Viktor and new splash arts for the Viktor in League of Legends

[dipperscavern]

was talking with @useralba, and in case anyone was wondering, jon snow loves hard. he doesn’t know how to love any other way.

jon's never been wholly accepted, but you accept and worship every part of him; including his last name. he can't help but lay himself at your feet. he literally doesn't know how to love without giving every part of himself to you. robb is passionate, yes, but jon is pure unbridled devotion.

he’s very pretty, strikingly so. his pouty lips, his soft curls, his back, his abs, yes — all parts perfect. but his softness. his gentleness. his understanding. his resilience. his protectiveness. he gives and he gives and he gives and expects nothing in return because he has never been given anything in return.

and i think the cave scene with ygritte is worth mentioning too. he could’ve done anything he wanted, but he chose to please her. and even so, he didn’t move her at all. didn’t ask her to lay down, didn’t manhandle her, he bent for her. he’d get on his knees before bending you to his will.

[waitingandwishing]

(Cross posted on Wattpad)

Prev - Next Chapter

“Let’s go over it again,” Grayson said firmly, her sharp eyes scanning the cluttered room. She adjusted her posture, her authoritative demeanor unwavering despite the disarray.

“You have to believe me. I didn’t do this,” Jayce pleaded, his voice cracking slightly as he gestured helplessly at the mess around him.

Grayson folded her arms, her brows knitting together in a frown. “Relax, kid. We know it was a break-in, but that doesn’t explain this.” Her gaze swept over the piles of unregistered items and mechanisms that didn’t belong in an ordinary lab. “There’s a lot of restricted items here, and I don’t see any permits. You wanna tell me how you got them?”

“Hey, hey! Be careful with that, please,” Jayce shouted suddenly, his panic redirected toward an enforcer who carelessly lifted a wooden beam off one of the blue crystals.

“I believe someone should have said that earlier,” Viktor commented, his soft yet deliberate accent cutting through the tension as he turned away from the chalkboard. “What happened here?”

Jayce let out a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose as if trying to ward off a headache. “Science, I guess,” he muttered, his tone both defensive and resigned.

“Last time I checked, science didn’t require illegal equipment,” Grayson shot back, her tone laced with skepticism. She pointed toward a particularly ominous-looking device nestled among the rubble.

“Nor was this approved by the Academy,” Viktor added, stepping closer. His limp was noticeable, but it didn’t diminish the air of authority he carried. “Who authorized your research?”

“It was an independent study… Who are you anyway?” Jayce asked, his tone shifting to irritation as he stared at the thin, pale man before him.

“I’m assistant to the Dean of the Academy,” Viktor replied coolly, his golden-brown eyes narrowing slightly, “Who it may serve you to remember is also head of the Council.” He leaned on his cane as he delivered the reminder. “He sent me here to ensure that anything dangerous is removed safely… Which, according to my list, includes you.”

“What?!” Jayce’s eyes widened in disbelief. “How am I dangerous?”

“Uh, that’s for the Council to decide,” Viktor said with a slight shrug, gesturing to an enforcer to move in. 

As the officer approached, Viktor’s attention shifted, his analytical gaze locking onto the chaos surrounding them. Something had caught his eye, a glint of metal among the debris.

Limping toward it, Viktor bent down as best he could, his thin fingers brushing against the cold surface of a small object. His breath hitched as he lifted it. ‘It can’t be…’

In his hands was a pocket watch, its metallic casing adorned with intricate filigree details. The center of the watch face displayed a celestial design, the deep blue background shimmering under the dim light. A radiant sun and crescent moon were etched delicately, their delicate rays intertwined in perfect harmony.

‘You’re like the moon, and I’m like the sun! Whenever I shine, everyone loves me! And whenever you shine, everyone thinks you’re beautiful!’ Viktor’s hand trembled slightly as he stared at the watch, memories flooding back. 

‘Y/N… It’s been years since I last saw you…’ His lips pressed into a thin line as he fought to suppress the emotions threatening to surface. ‘I wonder how you’ve been doing, mojí drahoušek…’

Sure, Y/N had been known for stealing things. In fact, the whole reason she and Viktor met was because she had stolen something from a few people! But… Would she really dare to steal from Piltover?

Was it fate that they’d meet again? Viktor wasn’t sure if he should be happy or guilty for the fact that they might meet again.

Straightening as much as his body allowed, Viktor pocketed the watch carefully. His expression was unreadable, but his mind was racing, consumed by the past and the implications of finding such a thing here.

_____________________________________________________

The enforcer threw Y/N against the wall with a force that knocked the air out of her lungs. Her back slammed hard into the rough, crumbling bricks, and before she could react, his hand clamped around her throat.

She clawed at his arm instinctively, gasping for air as her vision blurred slightly at the edges. His face loomed close, contorted with anger, and the veins in his neck stood out as he barked at her.

“Tell me who they were!” he shouted, his voice echoing through the empty alleyway. The metallic clink of his squad’s boots on the pavement was a chilling backdrop to his fury.

“I-I don’t know!” Y/N stammered, her voice raw with desperation as she tried to force the words out. “They were a couple of older people! H-Had green and yellow hair!” She winced as her back scraped against the wall when he pressed her even harder against it.

“Liar!” the enforcer snarled, his face inches from hers. The venom in his voice was noticeable, his hatred seething just beneath the surface. He shoved her further into the wall, grinding her shoulders painfully into the coarse surface. “You people are all the same. Liars, thieves, you’ll do anything to scrape by. Pathetic.”

Y/N’s pulse pounded in her ears, her chest heaving as she struggled to get even a sliver of air into her lungs. The pressure on her throat was unbearable, but she pushed past the terror and managed to rasp, “A-and who set that system u-up?!”

Her words, though faint, hit a nerve. The enforcer’s grip faltered for just a second before he released her completely, letting her drop unceremoniously to the ground. 

She crumpled to her knees, coughing violently as she clutched at her throat, trying to soothe the raw, bruised skin. 

Y/N barely had time to catch her breath before a sharp pain erupted in her side, his heavy boot connected with her ribs, sending her sprawling onto the filthy, rain-soaked ground.

“You dirty scumbags are worth nothing,” He spat coldly. The heavy tread of his and his squad's boots receded into the distance, leaving Y/N alone in the silence of the alley.

“Psst! Up here!” a voice hissed from above. Y/N tilted her head weakly, squinting through the blood and dirt smearing her face. She spotted Ekko crouched on the rooftop, his wide eyes glowing with concern as he waved her over. 

Her chest still heaving, she forced herself to her feet. Her entire body protested with every movement, pain shooting through her ribs, but she gritted her teeth and reached for the ladder.

“Are you okay?” Ekko whispered as she finally pulled herself over the edge of the roof. He placed a steadying hand on her shoulder, his gaze scanning the bruises on her face and the blood trailing from her nose.

“Yeah,” She croaked, her voice raspy and tired. “Just accidentally got pinned down by some of the enforcers.” She offered a small, strained smile that didn’t do much to hide her discomfort. “Ekko, the enforcers are looking for the rest of them. We need to get back.”

Ekko’s eyes widened, and he nodded solemnly. Without another word, the two darted across the rooftops, the wind biting at their skin as they moved. Y/N’s body screamed in protest with each jump and landing, but she didn’t slow down. They had to make it in time, there was no other option.

The Last Drop loomed ahead, its faint lights barely visible through the grime and smog of the undercity. They slipped inside through the roof, sliding into the dim, cluttered basement undetected. The faint hum of muffled voices reached them as they climbed onto the beams above.

Y/N scanned the dimly lit room, her sharp gaze immediately meeting Vi’s. Vi’s expression shifted to alarm as she noticed the blood on Y/N’s face and the bruises beginning to form on her skin. Y/N tilted her head, giving her a small, reassuring smile. She was okay, at least, that’s what she wanted Vi to think.

Her attention snapped to the sound of a creak. Powder was losing her balance, her foot slipping against the uneven beam. Y/N’s stomach flipped, her heart racing as she lunged forward, barely managing to grab hold of Powder’s shirt. 

Her fingers clenched tightly around the fabric, her other hand locking onto a beam to steady herself.

The faint light flickered ominously, then blinked out, plunging the room into darkness. A second later, the basement door slammed shut with an ominous thud. 

Powder gasped, losing her footing entirely and falling to the ground with a sharp yelp. 

Y/N dropped down after her, ignoring the protest of her battered body. Her boots hit the floor with a solid thud, and she crouched to help Powder up. 

Wiping the crusted blood from her face with the back of her hand, she straightened, her eyes meeting Vi’s concerned gaze.

“What happened to you, Y/N?” Vi asked, stepping closer. Her tone was sharp with worry, her brows furrowed.

“Enforcers happened,” Y/N replied flatly, her voice tinged with bitterness. She crossed her arms over her chest, wincing slightly at the ache in her ribs.

“Yeah! But she was a total badass!” Ekko chimed in, his face lighting up with excitement as he gestured wildly. “He was like, ‘Tell me who they were! You people are just liars and thieves!’ And she was all like, ‘And who set that system up?!’” He mimicked the enforcer’s gruff tone before switching to an exaggerated version of Y/N’s voice, grinning proudly.

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, the sound light but short-lived. It felt good, even if just for a moment.

The basement door creaked open, and Vander’s imposing figure filled the doorway. He scanned the room, his expression tense. “Are you all okay?” he asked, his voice calm but heavy with concern.

Vi stepped forward, her jaw tight. “No, we’re not okay,” she snapped. “They almost saw Powder. What if they’d taken her?” Her voice rose, her anger barely contained as she glared at Vander.

“No one is taking any of you,” Vander said firmly, his voice unwavering. “I won’t let that happen.”

“It’s already happening!” Vi shot back, her fists clenched tightly at her sides. “Y/N almost got her ass handed to her and sent to jail! You heard him, Vander. They won’t stop. They never stop. We need to fight back!” She slammed her fist into the wall with a loud thud. “And if you won’t, I will.”

Vander’s shoulders sagged, and he sighed deeply. “I’ve heard this kind of talk before,” he murmured, his voice low.

_____________________________________________________

Mojí drahoušek. Viktor scoffed at his own words, the ink smudging slightly as he scratched them out with a frustrated sigh. He leaned back in his chair, staring at the half-finished letter as if it could somehow write itself.

It had been years. Years since he’d seen her, heard her voice, or even allowed himself to think of her without that familiar ache creeping into his chest. Yet here he was, pen in hand, the words refusing to come out as smoothly as they once might have.

“It’s been a long time, Y/N,” He muttered, his voice low and tinged with exasperation. His fingers drummed against the table for a moment before his hand shot to his face, rubbing at the weariness that seemed to cling to him. “Of course it’s been a long time. You left her.”

What was he thinking? Ever since he stumbled across that pocket watch, it had been impossible to keep his thoughts from straying to her. 

Her eyes, that piercing gaze that could read him like an open book. Her smile, rare but unforgettable. Everything about her haunted him, a ghost lingering just at the edge of his mind.

Viktor dipped his pen into the ink pot once more, his grip tightening as he resolved to try again.

Dear Y/N,It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?

There are many questions I have to ask you. I would assume you’d think the same, though I suppose I have no right to assume what you’re thinking. I must apologize, leaving you was a mistake I’ve come to regret deeply. And yet despite the time and distance, I still find traces of you everywhere I go.

A lab partner of mine reminds me of you in more ways than one. The way he speaks, his stubborn determination to be right… It all brings you to mind. And then there are the smaller things.

The color olive green always makes me think of your cloak. I wonder, do you still have it? Or has it been discarded, like so many other pieces of our past?

You once told me we were like the sun and the moon, shining bright at different times. I told you we were more like two halves of the same coin yet didn’t realize that meant we were also destined to remain apart. The distance between us now feels so long, and I know it’s my fault. I let it grow. I let you slip away.

I found your mother’s pocket watch in the wreckage of my lab partners robbed lab. What a small world.

Magic and science… It's fascinating, isn’t it? The potential to intertwine them could revolutionize Piltover, though I can’t say the same for the Undercity.

I don’t expect to send you this letter. And if I do, I don’t expect a response. Nor do I expect you to act on anything I’ve said here. But I want you to know I’d like to return the pocket watch to you. 

I know how important it is, as a piece of your mother. Meet me in the Undercity, our old home. Perhaps in the alleyway where we first met. Where everything began.

This isn’t about closure for me; I’ve forfeited any right to peace of mind. Nor is it an attempt to make you remember me, I’m sure you already do. This is simply a transaction between old friends, nothing more. 

Afterward, we can go back to our separate lives. Though I doubt I’ll ever truly forget you, you have the choice to decide.

Love From, Viktor.

taglist: @night-fall-moon @cyberwears @g0ul666 (If you'd like to be added tell me in the comments!!!)

[kirammanswifey]

《A Love Written in Pain(t)》

Ekko

writer's note: i'm sorry for making my boy suffer again, ekko deserves better but i'm a sucker for drama. anyways, this little (pretty long) scenarios comes from my arcane imagines, i'll let the link down there for anyone is interested, also i'll be posting a story for each one of those scenarios for this week, tomorrow it's mel's turn ;)

link:

warnings: fluff, angst, terminal illness, death of oc, ekko is a romantic sweet talented baby, reader can be a jerk sometimes but she kinda cool sometimes.

The music vibrated in the air, blending with the scent of fresh paint and street food. You had come to the urban festival on a friend's recommendation, but you never imagined it would be an afternoon that would change your life. Artists were filling the city's gray walls with bright colors and messages of hope, and among them, one boy stood out.

His white hair contrasted with his skin, and the agile movement of his hand as he slid paint onto the wall was almost hypnotic. The mural he was creating seemed to come alive with every stroke: a girl holding a broken clock, surrounded by gears that spun toward nowhere. The image had something deeply melancholic about it, as if telling a story only a few could understand.

You watched him from afar, too shy to approach, until he noticed your presence. He turned his head and smiled at you, his eyes shining with a mixture of curiosity and kindness.

"Do you like it?" he asked, coming down from the scaffolding with the same ease he seemed to do everything.

"It’s... impressive. But it also feels sad, like it’s about a loss or something that can't be recovered."

His eyebrows raised slightly, surprised. "That's exactly what I wanted to convey. It’s about time. How we always think we have more of it than we really do, but we never know when it runs out."

His explanation fit perfectly with what you had felt while observing it. "I saw it more like a fight... like she doesn't want to give up, even if the clock is already broken."

For a moment, Ekko seemed to look at you differently, as if measuring something invisible. "I’ve never thought of it that way. I like that perspective. I guess that’s what’s great about art, right? It’s a conversation."

You smiled, feeling for the first time like someone understood how you saw things. "I guess so."

"Do you always analyze strangers' murals?" he joked, a playful smile on his lips.

"Only when they make me feel something," you replied with a hint of shyness, but without looking away.

"Well, then that’s a compliment."

Hours passed, but you didn’t even notice as the sun began to set. Talking with Ekko felt like discovering a song you didn’t know you needed in your life. He told you about his workshop, his passion for helping the community, and his dreams of changing the world, one gadget at a time.

At some point, he asked about your story, and although you weren’t the type to open up easily, you felt like you could be honest with him.

"I work with kids," you began, searching for the right words. "At an orphanage near my university. I like to think I can do something for them, even if it’s small. I’m studying psychology, and I want to help people like them... people who feel alone."

Ekko nodded, as if understanding every word. "That’s amazing. It’s like... you take care of people, and I try to make sure they take care of the world around them. Maybe you should stop by my workshop sometime. I work with kids from the neighborhood, teaching them how to fix things, build gadgets. We could join forces."

The enthusiasm in his voice was contagious, but you couldn’t help feeling a pang of doubt. It had been a long time since you let yourself connect with someone new, for reasons he didn’t need to know.

"Really? You take anyone?" you joked, trying to lighten the mood.

"Only if they have a good eye for art and a heart for kids. You seem to qualify."

When you got up to say goodbye, he pulled out his phone and offered you his contact. "In case you decide to visit the workshop."

You took the phone, feeling a mix of excitement and fear. You didn’t know what you were getting into, but something told you that Ekko wasn’t someone you’d easily forget.

By the end of the day, as you walked back home, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. His paint-stained hands, his sincere laugh, and that strange connection you felt from the moment he looked at you.

You didn’t know it yet, but you had just met the love of your life.

A few days after the festival, you still couldn’t get Ekko out of your head. There was something about him that fascinated you: the spark in his eyes when he talked about his dreams, the passion behind every word, his way of seeing the world with optimism despite the struggles. You found yourself re-reading the festival brochure and checking his social media profile, where he shared glimpses of his life: videos of his skate tricks, photos of murals filled with messages of resistance, and small clips explaining how to build gadgets. And pictures of him too and... he was kinda cute.

Finally, you decided to message him.

"Hey, I’m the girl from the mural. You said I could come by your workshop... Is the invitation still open?"

The reply came faster than you expected: "Of course. Come by anytime. The kids will be happy to meet you. Does 4 PM today work?"

The workshop was located in an old brick building in a lively neighborhood. The exterior walls were covered in vibrant graffiti that seemed to tell stories. The main entrance had a huge phrase in bold letters: "We build the future together." When you walked through the door, you found yourself in a space that radiated creativity and chaos in perfect harmony. There were tables filled with tools, parts of half-built gadgets, unfinished murals covering the walls, and a group of kids focused while Ekko enthusiastically explained something to them.

When he saw you, his face lit up, he said with sarcasm: "Hey, the mural girl is here!

You blushed.

"I hope I’m not interrupting," you said, feeling a little shy as all eyes turned toward you.

"Not at all. Actually, come here. I want you to see this."

He led you to a table full of small artifacts and technological pieces. "This is my experiment corner," he said, pointing proudly at the mess. "This is where the magic happens, although sometimes the magic is more frustrating than anything else."

The kids started to gather around, curious, and Ekko introduced you with a warmth that made you feel at home. "She works with kids too. She helps them find their way."

One of the younger ones looked at you with bright eyes. "Really? Do you do cool things like Ekko?"

You bent down to their level, smiling. "I don’t build things like he does, but I try to help people find their strength. Sometimes, the most important thing isn’t what we do with our hands, but with our hearts."

Ekko, who had been listening, looked at you with a mix of admiration and tenderness. "That was deep. I’ll have to write that down for my next mural."

Hours passed in the workshop. You helped the kids with their projects, painted a couple of things with Ekko, and learned more about his life. In a moment of calm, while the kids were absorbed in their creations, Ekko sat next to you, a screwdriver in hand and a thoughtful expression on his face.

"You know? This place means a lot to me," he started, his tone more serious than before. "When I was a kid, there was nothing like this in my neighborhood. Growing up here was... complicated. There wasn’t always someone to turn to when things got tough."

"How did you manage to get through it?" you asked, genuinely interested.

Ekko smiled sadly. "It was thanks to my mom. She always told me that, even though we couldn’t change where we were born, we could change what we did with it. She taught me not to give up, to find ways to transform things, even if they were small. When she died... well, I promised myself I’d do something so other kids wouldn’t have to feel as alone as I did."

He paused, fiddling with the screwdriver in his hands. "At first, I didn’t know how. I just knew I wanted to make a difference. That’s when I discovered skateboarding, art, and technology. They were my escapes. And over time, they became my way of communicating, of creating something that mattered."

You felt a lump in your throat listening to his story. There was something about the way he spoke, the vulnerability behind his words, that made every detail come alive. "You’ve done something incredible here, Ekko. This place... it’s not just a workshop. It’s a home."

He looked at you, surprised by your words, then smiled, although his eyes glowed with contained emotion. "Thanks. Sometimes I wonder if I’m doing enough. But hearing that... it makes me think maybe I am."

"You’re amazing." You squeezed his hand as a gesture of affection and respect, which made him smile shyly.

When the day ended, Ekko walked you to the door of the workshop. "So, what do you think?"

"I loved it! It’s like a refuge from the world."

He smiled, scratching the back of his neck with some shyness. "I try to make it that way. And I’m glad you came. The kids got along really well with you. They liked you."

"And you?" you asked, before you could stop yourself.

"Me?"

"Do you like me?"

For a moment, he seemed surprised by your question, but then he smiled with that spark in his eyes that you were starting to recognize. "I think so."

You said goodbye with a smile that didn’t leave your face the entire way home, carrying the feeling that, in some way, you had found a place where you belonged.

The afternoon sun bathed the streets in a golden light as you walked toward the park where Ekko had arranged to meet you. You weren’t sure what to expect; when he had suggested it, you thought it would be a simple, casual activity. But when you arrived and saw him carrying two skateboards, a mischievous smile on his face, you realized this wasn’t going to be any ordinary day.

“Are you ready to become a professional skater in just one afternoon?” Ekko asked, raising an eyebrow as he held a helmet in one hand and a board in the other.

“Professional? I can barely stay on my feet without falling,” you replied, laughing nervously.

“That’s what makes it fun,” he said, walking up to you to adjust your helmet. His fingers brushed your skin as he fastened it, and you noticed his movements were unnecessarily slow, as if he were looking for an excuse to be closer to you.

“And you? Are you going to wear a helmet or trust your legendary skill?”

Ekko shrugged, smiling to the side. “Nah, I was born for this.”

“Sure, sure,” you replied, nudging him with your shoulder.

The park had a wide track with ramps and flatter areas where beginners could practice. Ekko led you to one of these areas and began with a quick lesson.

“First, keep your feet steady. Don’t look down, look where you want to go. The board will follow your intentions.”

“My intentions? What am I, a witch controlling the skateboard with my mind?”

Ekko laughed. “Something like that. Though, if you were a witch, you’d probably have learned how to fly on this thing by now.”

You tried to follow his instructions, but on your first attempt, the board shot out from under you, and you ended up on the ground.

“Hey, hey! Are you okay?” Ekko was by your side in a second, kneeling next to you as he tried to hold back his laughter.

“I’m fine,” you said, though you could barely stop laughing. “I think the board hates me.”

“No, you just have to conquer it. Look.” He jumped onto his skateboard with a fluidity that seemed to defy gravity. He glided smoothly along the track, doing small tricks to impress you. “See? You just need confidence.”

“Of course, confidence is the only thing I’m lacking,” you joked.

After several attempts, you started to improve. You managed to stay on the board for more than a few seconds, though falls were still frequent. Every time you fell, Ekko was there, offering a hand to help you up, his face a mixture of concern and amusement.

After a while, both of you sat on a nearby bench to rest. Ekko took out his phone and began searching for something in his playlist.

“I’ve got the perfect song for this moment,” he said, setting it to play on the speaker.

Tyler, the Creator’s melodic voice filled the air with the song "See You Again." Ekko looked at you with a smile that seemed to hold something more than just fun.

“Why this song?” you asked, trying to interpret the meaning behind his choice.

“It reminds me of you,” he replied, his tone more serious than you expected.

You paused for a moment, allowing the music to fill the space between you. You knew there was something in his words, something he was trying to say without saying it. But instead of confronting it, you chose to laugh, avoiding the weight of the moment.

“Wow, Ekko, if you wanted to dedicate me a song, you could’ve chosen something less obvious,” you joked, pretending not to notice the gleam in his eyes.

He smiled, but there was something in his expression that made you feel a slight pang of guilt. You knew he was trying to open up to you, and you had deflected it.

As the afternoon went on, the topic faded, but a subtle tension lingered in the air. It wasn’t just about him; it was also about you. There was something you couldn’t share with Ekko, something that weighed on you more with each passing day. Your illness wasn’t an easy topic, especially now when you were just starting to get to know each other.

“Why are you so quiet?” he asked, glancing at you from the corner of his eye as you both walked toward the graffiti area of the park.

“I’m not quiet. I’m… thinking.”

“About what?”

“How easy it is to be with you,” you said without thinking. The sincerity in your words took him by surprise, and you could see his expression soften.

“Well, I’m glad it’s easy. But if you ever need to talk about something hard, I’m here too,” he said, his voice filled with warmth that made you feel guilty.

“Thanks,” was all you managed to respond.

Days later, Ekko took you to the graffiti area. He had been working on something in secret and didn’t want to tell you what it was until he finished.

“Ready to see how I see you?”

When you turned the corner and saw the mural, you were left speechless. It was your face, captured with an astonishing level of detail. Your hair seemed to move with the breeze, and your eyes were filled with a light you didn’t recognize at first. Around your face, Ekko had painted details that only the two of you would understand: small rays of light that seemed to represent hope, and a golden phrase that read:

“Life is short, but art is eternal.”

“Ekko…” you murmured, unable to find words to describe how you felt.

“This is what I see when I look at you. You're art,” he said, shrugging as if it were no big deal.

The mural was more than just an image. It was a reflection of how he saw you: as someone bright, unique, and irreplaceable. As you looked at it, you promised yourself that one day you would tell him the truth, even though you feared losing what you had.

The morning began with Ekko knocking on your door, carrying a huge box that almost covered his face.

"Are you going to let me in, or am I staying here decorating the hallway?" he said, balancing the box.

You laughed, opening the door wide. "What do you have there? A corpse?"

"If I told you, I'd have to kill you, baby" he joked, walking in and setting the box on the table.

Baby, that's how he was used to call you now. It didn't felt wrong, in fact, you liked it. It felt so good when he said it to you. It made you feel special. It made you feel loved. It made you feel his.

"It's for tomorrow's event. We're going to need a lot of help to make sure everything goes smoothly."

"An event? What are you talking about?"

Ekko leaned forward, resting on the table with a smile that combined enthusiasm and a bit of nervousness. "It's for the kids in the neighborhood. I'm organizing a sort of fair. Games, music, food... you know, something to help them forget for a while everything that's going on down here."

The morning passed organizing ideas. Ekko had an almost contagious energy, moving around your apartment like a whirlwind while making lists, dividing tasks, and talking about his plans.

"So, what do you think of a painting workshop? We could get some cheap canvases and brushes. I'm sure the kids would love to express themselves that way."

"I love it," you replied, watching his face light up. "How do you have so much energy for this?"

"It's important," he said, his tone turning more serious. "These kids... a lot of them don't have anyone who really shows them that they matter. If I can do something to change that, even for just one day, I will."

Your heart tightened as you listened to his words. There was something deeply inspiring about his dedication, how he used his own pain as fuel to improve the lives of others.

"So, where do I fit into all of this?" you asked, crossing your arms with a smile.

"Simple. You're my right hand. Plus, no one can resist your brilliant ideas and that smile of yours," he said, winking before turning back to focus on his plans.

In the afternoon, Ekko took you to his loft to check out some materials he had gathered for the event. His home was filled with curious objects: disassembled tech pieces, unfinished paintings, and notebooks full of sketches and notes.

"This place is like your brain made into physical space," you commented, looking around with a mix of awe and amusement.

"Is that a compliment?"

"Definitely."

You went up to the roof, where there was a small area Ekko had transformed into a personal retreat. There, he showed you his next project: a portable device designed to help people with motor disabilities perform everyday tasks with greater ease.

"How does it work?" you asked, taking the gadget in your hands.

"It's a prototype," he explained, sitting next to you. "The idea is for it to adapt to different needs. For example, someone with trouble holding objects could use it for a firmer grip. It's simple, but it could make a difference."

You looked at him, impressed. "Ekko, this is amazing. How did you come up with it?"

"I guess... I've always wanted to fix things. People, places, systems... whatever." He paused, looking at the horizon. "I don't know, I feel like it's the only thing I really know how to do."

The sincerity in his voice moved you. "You're not fixing things, Ekko. You're improving them. That's something very different."

Later, as you both worked on the final details for the event, Ekko looked at you with an intensity that made you feel uneasy.

"Can I ask you something?" he finally said, breaking the silence.

"Sure, go ahead."

"Why do you always keep your distance? Sometimes I feel like you're here, but at the same time, you're not. Like there's something you don't want me to see."

Your heart skipped a beat. You didn't expect Ekko to be so direct.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you said, trying to keep your tone casual.

"Yes, you do," he insisted, his voice firmer. "I've noticed how you avoid certain topics, how you change the conversation when something gets too personal. Is it that you don't trust me?"

"It's not that," you replied, feeling the frustration building inside you. "There are just things I don't need to share. Not everything has to be so... open."

"Not with me?"

His question hit you like a punch to the stomach. You stood up from the chair, unable to stay seated under his probing gaze. "Ekko, it's not as simple as you think."

"Then explain it," he said, standing up as well. "Because from here, it seems like you're more concerned with what you're hiding than with what we have."

What you two had was complicated. You weren't friends, you were more than that, but you weren't a couple either. It was complicated. And you didn't like to think about complicated things.

"You have no idea what you're saying!"

The raised tone of your voice surprised both of you. You felt the stress and physical exhaustion begin to take their toll. Your vision blurred, and the world seemed to tilt beneath your feet.

"Baby, are you okay?" Ekko stepped toward you, but before he could reach you, your legs gave out.

The last thing you heard before losing consciousness was the sound of his voice, filled with panic.

You opened your eyes under a cold, white light. The smell of disinfectant confirmed what you feared: you were in a hospital. You turned your head and saw Ekko sitting next to your bed, his elbows resting on his knees and his hands intertwined.

The room was silent, only broken by the soft sound of the monitor marking the rhythm of your breathing. The sunlight filtered through the hospital window, creating patterns on the floor, but the calm was deceiving. You knew Ekko was worried, hurt, but what worried you the most was what Ekko had started to suspect. You couldn’t keep hiding it, and you knew the time to talk had come.

Ekko had probably been sitting in the chair next to your bed for hours, staring at the wall, lost in thoughts that seemed to consume him. You didn’t know if he hated you or if he was just trying to process what had just happened. After all, you had fallen unconscious in his arms, leaving him with a heavier emotional burden than any gadget prototype or community event. Now, he was paying the price for your secret.

“Ekko?”

He quickly lifted his head, and the mix of relief and worry on his face broke your heart.

When he finally spoke, his voice wasn’t the same as usual. There was something broken in it.

“Baby, what’s going on? What haven’t you told me? The doctor... the doctor told me that...”

It was obvious that the doctor had given him more details than you had wanted to share. You hadn’t planned on opening up to him like this. But something in his gaze, the clear worry, and the deep sadness, made you say what you had kept hidden for so long.

“I know. I’m sorry,” you said, taking a deep breath. “The illness I have has no cure.”

After a long silence, and before everything could completely fall apart, you decided to explain more deeply about the illness that was consuming you because you knew Ekko needed to understand it fully, even though you weren’t sure you could save what was left between you both.

“Ekko… what I have is a rare, autoimmune disease. My immune system is attacking my own organs. It’s called Systemic Lupus Erythematosus, and there’s no cure. It’s like my body is fighting against me all the time, little by little.”

Ekko stared at you in silence, as if he couldn’t process every word. He knew that everything you had said before, although important, wasn’t enough to understand what was really happening.

“When?” he asked, his voice tense, almost inaudible. “Since when?”

“I started feeling bad when I was 23,” you continued, your voice trembling. “It hurt all the time, and the fever wouldn’t go away. At first, I thought it was something temporary. But then I fainted once, and that’s when they admitted me to the hospital. That’s when they told me that what was happening in my body was much worse than I imagined. From there, my life completely changed. My body wasn’t mine anymore. I lost energy, I lost weight, and the flare-ups became more frequent. It’s like my body is in a constant war, and there’s no way to win it.”

The feeling of vulnerability overwhelmed you as Ekko, standing at the door, continued to look at you with a mix of disbelief and pain.

But before he could say anything, you threw out one last statement that seemed to come from the deepest part of your soul:

“And I don’t know how much time I have left, Ekko. I just know that I can’t live knowing I’m dragging you with me.”

Ekko stood still for a moment, processing your words. His breathing became heavier, as if an invisible weight had fallen on him. Finally, his eyes sought yours, and what he saw in them wasn’t surprise. It was like, somehow, he already knew, as if he had sensed it all this time.

“Your parents?” Ekko asked again, his eyes fixed on you, searching for answers that you couldn’t hide anymore.

“My parents don’t know,” you said, letting out a sigh that seemed to come from deep within. “They have no idea. How am I going to tell them that? How am I going to tell them? No… I don’t want them to see me as a project they need to save. I want them to see me for who I am, to see me as their daughter, not as a broken thing they need to take care of. I don’t want to be a burden. I’m not going to be a burden.”

Ekko looked at you, his eyes filled with frustration, but also with a sadness so deep that it made you question whether he really knew you as well as you thought.

“Baby, why didn’t you tell me? Why did you hide all of this from me? Did you think you could protect me from the truth? What were you really protecting—me or yourself?”

The punch of his words was like a gut punch. The wound you had tried to seal with lies and evasions started to bleed, and the emotion overflowed in you like a river that couldn’t be stopped.

“I don’t know…” you stammered, tears threatening to fall. “I don’t know, Ekko. I wanted… I wanted all of this to keep being normal. For it not to be so… so heavy. I wanted to do everything I’ve always wanted to do before… before it ended. I wanted to leave my mark on the world before I’m gone, to leave something that was worth it.”

Ekko began to pace back and forth. His frustration became more palpable, but there was something else in his attitude, something you hadn’t recognized at first.

“That’s not what I’m saying!” he yelled, and the vehemence in his words made everything in the room feel even denser. “I don’t understand why you had to carry all of this alone. Why did you shut me out, baby? Why did you make me believe that everything was okay?”

“Because it was easier that way,” you said, the words tumbling out. “Because what’s happening inside me… how do you explain that to someone who doesn’t understand? How do I explain that my body is already losing the battle, that I won’t be here much longer, that everything I touch will fade?”

The anger in Ekko’s eyes faded for a second, and what remained was a sadness so deep it seemed to swallow the light in the room.

“And what about me, baby?” he said, his voice softer, more broken. “What about us? Did you really think I didn’t care? Did you really think I could go on without knowing what’s happening to you? That I could keep smiling and helping you as if nothing was going to change?”

At that moment, something inside you broke. Without thinking, the words left your mouth, sharp and like a dagger:

“Stop looking for it in me, Ekko. I’m not your mother. I’m not her. Don’t project that onto me! I don’t want to be the memory of what you lost. I don’t want to carry that responsibility, or the guilt of not being what you expected.”

The words hung in the air, and the silence that followed was unbearable. Ekko took a step back, his face contorting with a mix of pain and confusion. His eyes glistened with unshed tears.

“How could you say that?” he whispered, his voice broken, as if every word he spoke cost him more than the last. “I never ‘projected’ her onto you. It’s just… I don’t want you to keep pushing me away. I don’t want you to keep hiding your fears from me.”

And then, both of you stood there, in that emotional abyss that neither of you knew how to cross. Frustration, fear, love, and sadness intertwined in the room, as if time had stopped completely.

Finally, the silence became unbearable. You sat up in bed, defeated, while Ekko turned and walked toward the door. His body tense, his breathing ragged, and the pain in his face made him feel more real than ever.

Before leaving, he stopped and looked at you one last time. “If you had used your psychology for yourself instead of for everyone else, maybe you could’ve avoided this.”

The door slammed behind him with a dull thud, and you were left there, alone, with the echo of his words ringing in your ears.

Time had passed. The days and nights blurred into a mixture of conflicting feelings, unfinished memories, and a void that both of them tried to fill without success. The argument between Ekko and you had left deep scars, although both of you knew it couldn't be the end. Not for you. However, there was something neither of you had been able to face: fear. Fear of love, fear of tragedy, and fear of losing each other before either of you expected it.

You had distanced yourself for a week. A week that had been heavier than you ever imagined. In every corner, in every solitary moment, in every thought, Ekko was there, like a persistent shadow. No matter what you did, how you tried to ignore him, the emptiness left by his departure enveloped you more and more. You tried to convince yourself it was for the best, that moving on without him was the right thing to do. But you were lying to yourself, you knew you couldn't continue without him. Not that way.

Finally, after days of deliberation, finding the strength to face your own fear, you decided to go find him. You had to talk to him, make amends, and make a decision. If you were going to die, you would do it without regrets, without leaving words unsaid, or missed opportunities. You wouldn’t care about the shadows of the future, but you couldn’t keep living with the weight of silence between you two.

You found yourself standing in front of his door, hands trembling and heart pounding in your chest. You knew what you had to say, what you wanted to say, but the words seemed stuck in your throat.

The door slowly opened, and there he was, Ekko, with that gaze that, though intense, still carried a hint of sadness. There was something in his face that told you he had been searching for you in his mind as well, though his eyes didn't yet recognize it.

"Ekko…" you finally said, your voice trembling, "I need to talk to you. Can I come in?"

Without saying a word, Ekko took a step back and opened the door, inviting you inside. The atmosphere in the room was heavier than you remembered, as if everything unsaid still lingered in the air.

You stood in front of him, your eyes fixed on his, while the words that needed to come out didn't come immediately. But in the end, you decided.

"Ekko, I know I failed you. I know, and I’m deeply sorry. It was never my intention, it never was." You took a deep breath, struggling to control the emotions threatening to overwhelm you. "But I'm here because… because I need to know if you're still willing to fight with me. If you're willing to continue this battle, to stay by my side for as long as I can."

Ekko stared at you for a moment, his face impassive, but his gaze was full of something you couldn’t decipher. There was a long pause, and then, with a sincerity that made you shiver, he responded:

"I’ve always been willing, baby. From the moment I met you, I’ve been willing to fight for you, for what we have. I don’t care what comes, I don’t care how long it is. What matters to me is that you don’t leave, that you don’t leave me behind."

Those words were everything you needed. No more doubts, no more fears. You embraced his answer with your soul, with the certainty that, finally, both of you were ready to accept the truth. The truth of who you were, what you felt, and what the future held for you.

From that day on, things changed. Although you knew each moment was a fleeting gift, you decided to make the most of it. Ekko never stopped being by your side, and you did the same for him. You were determined to live intensely, no matter how short the life you had left. And he, he was willing to love you until the end.

He accompanied you to every medical appointment, always with a smile, always willing to do anything to lighten the pain caused by the treatment. The hospital visits weren’t easy, but his presence made everything more bearable. He held your hand before entering the consultations, hugged you after every diagnosis, and never let the moments of uncertainty crush you.

"I don’t want you to be afraid," you said one day, after one of your doctor visits, while walking together through the streets, taking a break at a small café. "But I know you feel it. I know every time we go in there, it kills you a little inside."

Ekko looked at you, his gaze full of both pain and tenderness. "It’s not fear," he replied, his voice soft. "It’s not knowing how to save you. I don’t know what to do when I see you so fragile. All I can do is be here, by your side."

And that was enough. Even though both of you knew you couldn’t stop time, nor the illness, what you could do was share every second, every laugh, every small victory, and every defeat.

But it wasn’t only moments of pain and fear. There were also moments of joy, of beauty, and of creation.

Together, you started working on the project you both dreamed of—the gadget you had envisioned, which could change the way the world saw technology. Even though your health was becoming more fragile, Ekko made sure you didn’t stop. You worked side by side, sharing ideas, making decisions, and facing obstacles, but always together. It was your way of fighting, of resisting, of holding on to life amidst the chaos.

One day, while working on the final design, Ekko surprised you with an idea. "How about, in addition to all this, we paint something? Something that’s ours, something that represents what we’re doing together."

At first, you didn’t completely understand what he meant, but soon you did. Together, you would create something more than just a gadget. You would paint a mural, one that symbolized not only your dreams and love, but also the struggle you shared. The mural would represent life, love, and hope, even though you knew time was limited.

In your mind, that mural became the testament of your story, a reminder of what you had built together. The colors shone on the wall, the shapes wild and beautiful, just like your love. The mural wasn’t just a work of art, but also a promise. The promise that, no matter what else might crumble, your love would never fade. No matter how much time you had left.

The last strokes were made one sunny afternoon, in a deep, shared silence. The piece was finished, and as you stepped back to admire it in its entirety, both of you knew you didn’t need words to understand what it meant.

The mural was more than a reminder of your love; it was a testament to what you had built together, of how, even in the darkness, you had found light. Though the future remained uncertain, the mural would stay there, eternal, as a trace of what once was and would always be.

As the days passed, time seemed to grow more valuable, more scarce. You knew that every minute spent with Ekko was a gift. And although illness had taken much from you, it had given you something you never imagined: a deep, real love that feared no tragedy.

One afternoon, while resting together in his loft, Ekko looked at you seriously, more serious than you’d seen him in a long time. In a soft voice, almost as if afraid of the answer, he asked:

"Would you like to be my girlfriend?"

You paused for a few seconds, feeling the weight of the question. But in that moment, something inside you broke. You smiled tenderly, a smile full of love and resignation.

"Ekko," you said softly, moving closer to him, "we’re so much more than that."

The smile he gave you was the answer both of you needed. You didn’t need labels, you didn’t need promises of an uncertain future. The only thing that mattered was that, in that instant, you shared something so deep and real that it didn’t need to be defined by words.

And, without another word, your lips met in a first kiss, a kiss full of love, despair, and hope. A kiss that marked the beginning of what both of you knew would be a short story, but one that would last a lifetime in your hearts.

The weeks following the reconciliation were a whirlwind of emotions. Even though you knew time was running out, you decided to live each moment with Ekko as if it were the last, because in reality, it was. Sometimes, the smiles were forced, but in the most sincere moments, you could see in his eyes the reflection of a love so strong it took your breath away. Every time he looked at you, every time he held your hand, there was a mix of hope and pain, but neither of you wanted to face the inevitable.

The illness progressed rapidly. Every day, your body seemed to fall apart a little more. The doctors had told you, warned you, but you never imagined how quickly the end would come. You had learned to live with the pain, the fatigue, the moments of weakness, but nothing had prepared you to see Ekko closely watching the changes happening inside you.

You had already told your parents about it, and when you did it he was there with you, by your side, ride or die. And of course they didn't take it well, but there was nothing they could do. They just let you be happy with Ekko.

Sometimes, when you woke up in the morning, you’d see him sitting beside you, his gaze lost in some undefined point, as if he were waiting for you to wake up from the shared dream. He’d ask you how you were feeling, and you’d always say you were fine, even though the truth was you could barely bear the weight of your own body.

You saw him trying to distract you, taking you to places that made you happy, but you knew nothing could escape that reality. He didn’t want to accept what was happening, and neither did you, but neither of you wanted to say it out loud. No one wanted to mention what was already so obvious.

That night, after another doctor’s appointment that you could barely endure, you lay down hoping to rest, even though it was becoming harder and harder to find deep sleep. Your body no longer responded the way it used to, and the symptoms had started affecting you more brutally. You could barely move your hands without feeling pain, your breathing grew more labored with every effort, but you kept smiling. You had to, not only for Ekko, but for yourself.

Ekko was sitting beside you in the chair he always occupied when taking care of you. His presence was as comforting as it was painful. You knew he was holding onto every fragment of his strength to not show you how devastated he was, but you could feel it in his eyes. He gently stroked your hair and whispered, as though afraid that if he spoke any louder, everything would collapse.

“I promise we’ll get through this. Together, we’ll make it. I won’t let you leave me, not without a fight.”

You looked at him, knowing he was struggling not to cry. But his words, although full of love, only reminded you of the harsh reality. There was no more time for promises, no more room for fighting. The end was near, and you knew it.

“Ekko…” you said, your voice weak. “You don’t have to fight anymore. I’ve loved you so much, you know that, right?”

His eyes filled with tears, but he made an effort to smile. “I know. I know, baby. And I love you more than words can say.”

But what you didn’t know was that, at that very moment, Ekko was also fighting his own pain. While you rested, trying to gather some strength, he was in the workshop, working frantically on the gadget, the project you both had shared. The same gadget that, in his mind, represented everything you had built together. The gadget wasn’t just an object. It was the manifestation of what you two could accomplish when united, when you fought as a team.

Ekko knew the gadget couldn’t save you. He knew nothing could save you. But still, he felt that if he finished that project, a piece of you would remain. A trace of the hope you had brought into his life.

Hours passed, and the night stretched on in heavy silence. Ekko was so focused on his work that he didn’t realize time was slipping away. The light in the workshop flickered as he soldered pieces, making adjustments, checking everything over and over, as if somehow he could turn back time, change the course of history. But he knew he couldn’t.

When he finally gave up on the gadget, exhausted from the intensity of the night and the weight of worry, he went up to the bedroom. He wanted to see you, wanted to make sure you were still breathing, even though he already feared what he might find. He entered the room with the hope that, by some miracle, everything had changed. But what he found was the silhouette of your body lying still. In the absolute silence of the room, Ekko slowly approached, his heart pounding, and when he reached your side, he touched your hand gently. It was cold. Too cold.

The shock paralyzed him for a second. He couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t accept that you were no longer there, by his side, where you had always been. He looked at you, observing your pale face, your peaceful expression, as if you were simply sleeping, but deep down, he knew there was no turning back.

Desperation washed over him. The pain hit him so hard it felt as though his chest would explode. How was it possible? How could something so beautiful, so real, vanish in the blink of an eye?

He knelt by the bed, gripping your hand tightly, as if by doing so, he could bring you back to life. “You can’t go,” he whispered, his voice breaking with the tears he could no longer hold back. “Not now. Not like this.”

But deep in his heart, he knew it was the end. He knew he couldn’t bring back what was already gone. He couldn’t revive the irreparable. And for the first time in his life, Ekko didn’t have a solution, he didn’t have a plan. All that was left was the pain, and that painful acceptance that it was all over.

In the following week, Ekko lived in a limbo. No one saw him, no one knew how to face his pain. Memories of you were everywhere. In the bed where you slept, in the gadget he completed, in the mural you painted together, in the streets where you both walked, always hand in hand. Everything that had once been a dream was now just an echo, a shadow.

Sometimes he’d find himself in front of your photo, the smile you shared on a random afternoon, one that he could no longer remember without the lump in his throat becoming unbearable. The reality hit him harder each time: you were no longer there.

Ekko became a shadow of himself. His mind still searched for you, as though somehow you might return, as though he could find a way to save you. But nothing could change what had happened.

In his darkest moments, Ekko would remember the last words you had said: “I’ve loved you so much.” Those words gave him strength to keep going, to not give up completely. Though the pain was unbearable, he had loved you, and that was something he would never forget.

And with the gadget in his hand, looking at the mural you both painted, Ekko made a promise, a silent promise: he would live to honor what you shared. He wouldn’t let your death be in vain. Your love, your fight, your story would live on in his heart, forever.

The city, as always, continued its course, indifferent to everything Ekko had lost, to everything that had changed in his world. But for him, the day was no longer just a succession of hours; every second was a struggle to find something that gave his pain and love meaning.

Months had passed since you left, but it felt like your absence was so recent, so sharp, that Ekko couldn't stop feeling that his entire being was stuck between life and death. No matter how much time had passed, your image was engraved in his mind, not as a memory, but as a constant presence, a voice whispering in his ear, as if you had never left.

Today, in particular, everything seemed to pull him back to the pieces of his pain. The project you had worked on together, the gadget, was finally ready. After so many sleepless nights, so much effort and sacrifice, the moment to present it had arrived. It had been a creation of love, passion, and farewell. A tribute to you, to what you shared, to what still remained of you in his heart.

Ekko walked with firm steps toward the community event where he would present the gadget. Around him, the people, some curious, others hopeful to see the result of years of teamwork. But he couldn't see them. He couldn't see beyond his own thoughts, the image of you floating in his mind. Sometimes, he thought that everything he had done in the past few months was just a way to avoid facing the truth: that you were gone and that, despite everything, life had to go on.

He entered the venue, a large hall filled with tables covered in technology, art, and brilliant inventions. The gadget was there, on a pedestal, waiting to be presented. Ekko stared at it in silence for a moment, recalling every afternoon spent working on it together. The design was sleek, full of details that reflected his intelligence and your ability to come up with unimaginable solutions. It was more than just a gadget; it was a piece of you, a piece of what they had been together.

The event began, and Ekko, with a calm that only he could have, presented his creation. He explained, with soft but firm words, how the idea had been born, how you had been the spark of inspiration for something that transcended technology and reached the heart. As he spoke, the words intertwined with memories, with your laughter, your jokes, the long nights spent debating the design, the future, and what they wanted to do. Every word felt like a sigh from the past, a sigh that tried to make the present make sense.

But inside him, Ekko knew that everything he was doing was just an echo of what had been. What remained was the emptiness, the absence you had left in his life.

When he finished, he stepped away from the stage, letting the gadget speak for itself. No one in the room understood what that creation really meant. No one knew how much it had cost, not in terms of hours of work, but in terms of love, sacrifice, and farewell. They didn’t understand that every screw, every adjustment, had been made with the hope that, in some way, it would bring you back, even if only for a second.

After the presentation, Ekko moved away from the bustle, walking slowly toward a secluded corner of the city. There, on the wall, was the first mural that he painted of you. The mural was a mural of love, hope, and pain. A mural that reflected every laugh they shared, every glance, every moment they had lived together. In the mural, you were more than just a figure; you were a story told in colors and shapes, in every stroke Ekko had made, in every brushstroke you had guided. The mural wasn’t just art; it was a piece of his soul, his heart, of you.

When Ekko stopped in front of the mural, the wind gently blew, moving some fallen leaves on the ground. His eyes, moist, traced every part of the painting, as if he were searching for something he would never find. He remembered how you had smiled while he was painting you, how you had loved it so much when he showed it to you.

The mural showed a version of you that was etched in his memory. He saw you, with your serene smile and your eyes full of dreams and desires. But what really stood out in the mural was your figure, as if everything else was just a stage for you, for what you meant in his life.

"We did it, baby," Ekko whispered, as if he could hear your voice responding, as if you were still there. "We did it together. Everything we dreamed, everything we wanted... we did it."

His tears began to fall, one by one, flowing like a torrent he could no longer hold back. His heart broke once more, but there was something in the sadness of that moment that gave him a strange sense of peace. Maybe it was because he finally understood that, even though you had gone, the love you shared could not disappear. Love doesn’t vanish with death; it stays, like a shadow that always follows the light. In the mural, in the gadget, in his memories, you would always be a part of him, forever.

Ekko stepped away from the mural, glancing one last time at the figure that now represented everything he had lost. He looked toward the future, toward the horizon, where the lights were beginning to flicker on, and the streets once again filled with people who knew nothing of what he had been through. An uncertain future, but a future he would have to face, because at the end of the day, what really mattered was how he would live after the loss.

With the image of the mural etched in his mind, Ekko moved forward. And in his heart, a promise: he would never forget what you both shared, he would never forget the legacy you left, and he would move forward with the strength of your love, because now he understood that love didn’t die, it transformed, just like art does. Like you did.

[powdcr]

dating ekko | headcanons

୨୧ teases and "bullies" you constantly because he adores your cute/flustered reactions

୨୧ very protective over you

୨୧ tries to teach you how to ride his hoverboard | "your balance is terrible, but i still love you."

୨୧ always making you inventions or buying you gifts/flowers etc (he likes surprising you)

୨୧ so so proud to show you off to any and everyone

୨୧ he gets nervous initiating PDA but when you do he secretly goes crazy (this boy is in LOVE)

୨୧ has memorized all of your childhood stuffed animals' names | "where is mr. bearington? i haven't seen him in a while. i miss the little guy."

୨୧ usually stays up late so that he can watch you sleep and make sure you're okay

୨୧ teaches you how to fight using moves that vi taught him when he was little

୨୧ is hesitant to trust you at first due to his trust issues, but eventually warms up to you

୨୧ asks you to come with him to pierce his ears (he's secretly a little baby...)

[alottiegoingon]

hc! jealous and possessive jackie

jackie taylor x gn! reader

summary: jackie being a menace while being jealous

warnings: characters are aged up even tho theres no nsfw, jackie sucks at talking about her feelings, bad communication at first, established relationship but toxic at first?, way too sweet petnames, jackie being clingy, dumb reader, NOT proofread, i see jackie as a lesbian but i tried to make it more inclusive so gn reader

thank you for the idea, anon!! mwah <3

- you and jackie were the perfect couple at school. if life was like a teen romcom movie, you two would be like magnets; drawing everyone's attention and turning heads to you in the hallways

- jackie was the most popular girl at the wiskayok high school. being the captain of the yellowjackets was a big help but her personality was the main reason. she was born to be the leader. she the one to enchant people with no big efforts except for maybe just a smile or a charming look

- you didn't care about being popular but it was a consequence of being jackie's partner. it was really easy to notice all the looks directed at your girlfriend but you weren't much of a jealous person. you trusted jackie and knew that, to her, it wasn't anything but friendly attention or jealous fake people

- jackie, however, was the complete opposite.

- while being jealous, jackie would totally try to make you jealous by being too flirty with someone she hated, using them. she didn't care about them, but she did care about you

- she would bat her eyelashes, smile in a sweeter way and play coy while you were staring at her with a raised eyebrow and a perplexed expression but the moment you looked away, she would suddenly stop all of that and never talk to that poor person again

- jackie would be SO petty, ignoring you on purpose and not responding to your petnames for her, or touches. "hi, bunny. wanna go to the movies tonight?" you kiss jackie's cheek but she barely looks at you when rejecting your idea

- "i don't know. why don't you ask nat?" her words would drip with bitterness and all you did was to ask nat the time earlier that day

- once, during party in the woods, you were talking to jackie's friends from her soccer team. you still didn't remember the name of everyone but still tried to be nice to all of them; they were jackie's friends and you loved her

- jackie was in charge of getting you two drinks but distracted herself in the way in the second a few people called her, and you were left behind, deciding to make the best out of the situation

- when you and jackie werent together, you would spend your time watching lots of movies that you know she wouldnt like, like a nightmare on elm street. much to your surprise, van also liked horror movies and mentioned how it was a common thing to watch with her girlfriend taissa. they both loved scream

- you two quickly jumped into an enthusiastic discussion, ranking horror movies, gossiping about actors, chattering about upcoming movies that you were dying to see

- van innocently touched your shoulder as you two shared a good laugh after joking about how chaotic would be if someone dumped a bunch of red paint (blood was too much, you are no monster duh) on the students during the prom

- ironically, that happened during the exact moment that jackie was walking back to you. her grip on the red plastic cups got so tight that a few drops of the drink fell over. her happy and always ready to please expression turns into a pair of narrowed eyes and a grimace of jealousy

- the first thing you notice is jackie's voice and she slid her right arm firmly around your waist right after she shover your drink onto your own hand in a swift move. "hi, baby. i missed you!"

- and she kisses your cheek, tightening her clasp on your skin. her face changed to being serious, from seconds ago, to putting on a hollow and forced smile. jackie was good at soccer, good at makeup, good at choosing clothes, but, come on, she wasn't good at pretending

- "i-i missed you too." you utter in a bewildered voice but can't help yourself from smiling and feeling comfortable being so close to jackie. "van and i were joking about how fu-" you try to explain the joke but jackie doesn't seem interested. instead, she cuts you off and her grip on your waist moves to your arm, squeezing the fabric of your jacket, getting ready to drag you away

- "nice. can we talk for a second?" her faux smile doesn't go away until you politely said goodbye to van and let your girlfriend lead you to where your car was parked. her steps were firm and you had to glance back to ensure her furious strides hadn't scorched the grass

- "did you have fun talking to your new friend van?" jackie asks with a fierce glare.

- at first, you didn't get the memo. you had no idea why jackie was acting so furious but you thought it could be the stress from the upcoming exams. "well, yeah. they are really nice. can you believe that they like horror movies? even nightmare on elm..." you innocently blabbered about the exciting conversation you had with van but your voice trailed off as you noticed her raised eyebrows in disbelief

- "go on." she folds her ams across her chest, looking at you up and down

- "i mean, no. i was just waiting for you to come back!" you defend yourself, knowing it was useless now. "oh, really? cause you looked like you were having a blast." she strikes back

- "i just thought it would be fun if i-" you tried to explain but then you finally realize what was going on. "wait. are you jealous?"

- jackie's frown softens and her fury goes away but her arms remained crossed. "what? no." her voice is in a higher tone, a little whiny.

- "jackie..." you spoke softly. getting closer to her, your hands were the one to gently hold her waist now as you helped her to sit on the hood of your car. you positioned yourself in the middle of her legs and, even against her pride, she didn't complain when your hands touched her face

- "van is nice. they have a great taste for movies and they are really sweet." jackie looks at you in astonishment, not believing in what she was hearing. she was ready to slap your shoulder in response to your bold move "but i can't look at anyone else if it means that it isn't you." and just like magic, she melts

- "no one else in the entire world has your smile or your beautiful eyes. no one else scrunches their nose when they're happy. no one else is as smart, brilliant, kind and enchanting as you. i love you. you know that, right?" your foolish grin matched the look of adoration in your eyes as you were carefully memorizing every detail of jackie's face while talking.

- "yeah, i know. i love you too." and just like that, a rosy hue spread across her cheeks. she wasn't even able to held the eye contact for too long without sharing the same foolish smile of yours

- with a tender kiss on her soft lips and the delicate act of tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, the night was saved and jackie's lips curled into an adorable pout that forced you to kiss her over and over again

- "okay, whatever." she gives in, trying to sound less shy by cleaning her throat. "let's just get out of here, it's freezing!" she says, leaping off the car hood. you open the door of the passenger's side for her, ready to offer your jacket as well.

- "whatever you want, bunny."