#there was just so much here and there were so many things i wanted to say about it
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the grid: when they admit they love you!
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featuring: Oscar Piastri, Lando Norris, Lewis Hamilton, George Russell, Alex Albon, Franco Colapinto, Logan Sargeant, Daniel Riccardo, Liam Lawson, Charles LeClerc, Carlos Sainz, Arthur LeClerc, Ollie Bearman, Max Verstappen, Paul Aron, Jack Doohan.
this is 18+ so mdni please! smut in some of them!
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Oscar Piastri: fumbling and scared
You sat at the reception of McLaren, and every single day he was terrified of making a fool of himself. You were the cool, pretty receptionist he’d already gone on 3 dates with, and this Friday he was going to ask you to officially be his girlfriend. The conversation between you two flowed easily when it was just you two, but with other people there… he was less than smooth. Your desk mate, the other receptionist had a knack for gossip, and she was kind of scary, she he tried to steer clear of her when he could.
“Morning,” you smiled as he walked in the door.
“Morning,” he smiled back, leaning on your desk. “How are you?”
You started signing him into the building (he ‘lost’ his access card months ago, aka he threw it away and didn’t try to get a new one, just so he could have some reason to talk to you). “I’m good, looking forward to Friday,” you smiled. “You?”
He beamed, grinning like a kid. “Me too.”
“Oscar!” Chris (the guy who has the biggest crush on you ever) clapped a hand on his back, much too hard. “Buddy, I got you a new access-card! Now you can stop bothering the pretty lady here, right?”
“Chris, it’s no bother, I do it every morning-” you tried to diffuse the situation. You didn’t exactly want Osccar to have to deal with Chris, he was such an asshole.
“Yeah, but it’s one less thing off your plate baby,” he winked at you and Oscar felt something twist in his stomach when you grimaced at the pet name.
“Don’t call her that,” he told him. “She has a name, it’s Y/n. Use her name.”
“Dude, I know you wouldn’t get it, but some people date other people,” Chris chuckled like a scumbag. “And me and her are together, so back off.”
Oscar laughed. He actually laughed in your co-workers face. “You’re funny, man.”
Chris laughed along. “I know right.”
Oscar took the access card from him, leaned over the desk and pressed his lips to yours, like he’d done many times before, and carried on to his meetings. Chris stood there shocked, then walked back to his desk like a wounded puppy.
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Friday rolled around and you were both sat on his couch watching Cars, when he turned to you. “I’m sorry about Monday,” he admitted. “I know it wasn’t the right thing to do and it probably made it worse but I just-”
“It worked,” you told him. “He hasn’t spoken to me all week, but he has been trying to report you to HR for me, but every time he does I just tell them I didn’t make the claim and then report Chris for being weird. It worked perfectly. He’s such a dick,” you chuckled.
He watched you as you chuckled, the way your nose scrunched, the flyaway hairs on your forehead framing your face, your soft lips, you gorgeous eyes. “I love you,” he said, softly, but you looked up with wide-eyes all the same. He’d shocked himself too. “OHmygodIamsosorryIknowit’swaytooearlyand-”
You just started laughing, literally falling into his lap. You laughed against his chest and after a moment, he joined you.
“You’re such a dork,” you smiled brightly as you ran a hand through his hair, then gently caressed his cheek. “I love you too.”
He beamed. “Can I be your boyfriend?”
You nodded, then kissed him gently. Cars and a pretty girl as his girlfriend? Could his Friday night get any better?
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Lando Norris: sweet and sincere (for once)
He watched as you walked from the edge of the water into it, splashing around with Mila. It was your first Norris family holiday, and yeah, maybe he had lied to you and told you it would just be you two to trick you into meeting his family only 5 months into your relationship. Maybe you were super mad at him to the point of barely speaking to him unless in the group. But also, maybe Lando was watching the love of his life play with his niece, and maybe he didn’t care that he’ just called you that.
“Lala!” Mila called, running up to him. “I really like Y/n, can we keep her?”
You came up behind her, chuckling lightly at her statement. He stared at you for a moment. You were sunkissed (and a little sunburn on your nose), with a bright smile, wet hair and a beautiful blue swimsuit on. You looked ethereal to him. So stunningly gorgeous that he barely knew what to say.
“Come on kiddo, let’s grab you a snack,” you picked back up your smile and started to walk over to his sister, sitting under another umbrella with all the snacks and drinks in the world. Lando just stared at you when Mila asked. You’d thought that him inviting you on a family holiday would mean something, you must’ve thought wrong.
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As dinner rolled around, the conversation flowed smoothly as the sun set on the horizon.
“I’m going to go for a walk on the beach front,” you told the table once meals were finished. They waved you off and off you went. The beautiful sea and stars in the sky caught your attention as your red dress flowed in the wind. It was magical, the warm air, the magnificent views, all of it. The sand beneath your feet was warming your feet and you stopped to look out on the ocean. The soothing, calm waves with the scent of salt made you smile. You’d always loved the beach.
“You look beautiful,” Lando’s voice made you jump, and you searched for him until you realised he was right beside you.
“Thank you,” you smiled softly. He wrapped a hand around your waist and turned you to face him.
He’d been quiet at dinner, too busy trying to think of how to get you to talk to him again, and how he could finally confess his love for you. It was almost overwhelming, the fact that he was in love.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that it was a family trip,” he sighed, pressing a kiss to your cheek.
You sighed. “It was pretty shitty…” you reminded him. “But I’ve been having fun with them. You come from good people. Makes sense.”
He smiled brightly at your compliment and pressed his forehead against yours. “Thank you for not leaving once you found out.”
You chuckled. “No problem.”
“I adore you,” he admitted. “More than anything. I fucking love you.”
Your eyes widened and you stood there with your jaw dropped. “Holy shit,” you cursed under your breath and he giggled.
“You don’t have to say it back or anything, I just wanted to tell you,” he clarified, once he’d stopped laughing.
You smiled at him, chuckling. “I love you too, Lando, of course I do. Even when you do stupid shit like invite me to a family holiday.”
He laughed, burying his face in your neck. “I already said ‘I’m sorry’!”
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George Russell: of course…
He smiled as he crossed the finish line, finally winning another race.
“Well done George!” his engineer cheered, congratulating him as the garage erupted into celebrations.
When he was finally out of the car, all interviews were over, and all that was left was to take a few team photos, he was given a moment to seek you out. You’d hugged you at the barricade, but since then he hadn’t seen you. You were busy signing things for fans, little girls who wanted to be ‘just like you’ one day. You smiled and told them they would be, that their dreams of being olympic gymnasts weren’t far-fetched. He smiled, wrapping his arms around you from behind. He was covered in champagne, and you groaned, making the small group of girls laugh.
“George!” you groaned, pushing him off.
“What?” he smirked, pulling you back in. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, as the group of girls moved on with a giggle and a wave. “You look stunning.”
“You’re wet,” you dead-panned. “Congratulations, winner.”
He grinned. “I love you.”
You stared at him for a moment, a gentle disbelief in your eyes. “Really?”
“More than anything.”
“Not just because you're drunk on champagne?”
“Nope, I genuinely love you,” he chuckled. “Sorry,” he shrugged, unapologetic.
You beamed, then kissed him. “I love you more.”
He shook his head. “Not possible.”
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Kimi Antonelli: nervous
He smiled as he opened the door to his apartment and found you on the other side.
“Ready?” you asked, holding up a very big paint can, and some rollers. He had asked you to help him decorate his new apartment, in Monaco, and you’d thankfully agreed. You, his girlfriend / race engineer, had also just moved to Monaco, next door, in fact.
He let you in and you both began to set up the room, tarping the hardwood floors, taping off the skirting boards, and enjoying the soft music and sunny weather outside the window. You finally opened the paint and got to work. He thought you looked adorable, actually wearing paint-splattered overalls (courtesy of you repainting your entire apartment just a week ago), with a concentrated face. His eyes followed you across the room, meticulously taping every inch of the skirting board, making sure that none of the blue paint would ruin the white.
“What?” you asked, looking back at him.
He blushed and shook his head, finally understanding the emotions he felt for you everyday. He loved you. “Nothing.”
You raised an eyebrow and walked over, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing a kiss to his lips. “You sure?”
He nodded, much too nervous to tell you. He looked away, pretending to be engrossed in messing with your pockets.
You shrugged, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Alright,” you let go of him and walked back to the side of the room that you were working on.
He’d tell you, one day.
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Lewis Hamilton: smooth about it
He smirked as you walked out from your bedroom, clad in one of his shirts and some tiny sleep-shorts, excited about finally sitting down to watch the movie. It had been a difficult triple-header, and he hadn’t been around. But finally, the season was over, and he could invite you over to start enjoying the Christmas festivities. He loved this. He loved the casual, regular things you two did. He liked the way you cuddled up to him on the couch, he loved the way he knew you’d definitely fall asleep before the film ended, he loved you-
Oh.
He loved you.
He chuckled and you looked at him confused.
“You alright?”
He chuckled. “All good baby,” he nodded, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.
“What was that about?” you questioned further, putting the remote down. He ran a hand through your hair, looking at you with all the love in the world.
“Just love you,” he shrugged as your jaw dropped. He chuckled, watching a million emotions run through you.
“You’re such a dick!” you playfully hit him on the shoulder. “I wanted to say it first!”
He laughed and pulled you into his arms, holding you closer. “I’m sorry baby.”
You scoffed. “No you’re not.”
He shook his head. “No I’m not.”
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Alex Albon: oh… yah.
He sighed as he opened the door to his driver’s room. He was exhausted, another race down, another weekend closer to the end of this.
“Hey,” you smiled.
His mood picked up, knowing you were there. His best friend. “Hey,” he smiled, pulling you into a hug. “I didn’t know you were here.”
“Surprise?” you shrugged. “I wanted to come see you.”
He smiled, pressing his face into your neck inhaling the smell of your perfume, feeling much more at ease than he did before. “I thought you couldn’t make it today.”
“I did, but I won't be able to be in Qatar or Abu Dhabi,” you admitted, breaking the bad news. You could feel him frown.
“Why not?”
“I'm busy for the next two weeks with work. Then I have the whole couples retreat thing and then-”
“Pardon? Couples retreat?”
“This guy I’m seeing is saying we should go, I think it’s a swinging thing though, I’m not exactly into it. But non refundable tickets and I would like a holiday before I have to deal with our families all Christmas,” you explained with a chuckle.
His world crumpled around him. “You’re seeing someone?”
You nodded. “Yeah, he’s… nice,” you smiled. “Don’t worry, you won’t be meeting him for a while, he’s not even my boyfriend yet-”
You stopped talking because he’d started kissing you. He hadn’t really connected the dots before. He liked how close your families were, he liked being your best friend, he liked being around you all the time. He liked being the person you’d come to about things. He didn’t like other people liking you. He’d been your personal bodyguard throughout your teenage years, and he had shooed off every guy, just because he was protecting you, right? It had nothing to do with the fact that he wanted both of you to wait and be each other's first kiss, like you’d promised when you were 10.
Oh shit. He was in love with you.
He pulled back with wide-eyes. “I’m in love with you.”
You broke out into a smile. “I love you too.”
He grinned like a little kid.
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Franco Colapinto: shy? For once?
He froze as he heard your voice from behind. He hadn’t been home in months, too busy with racing to visit. But Christmas rolled around as it always did, and so did every single family friend.
“Franco!” his mother’s voice rang out. “Come here!”
He turned and was met with your eyes. He felt himself blushing already.
“Y/n’s here!” she cheered. You offered a small wave and a smile, which he mirrored.
“It’s good to see you again,” you smiled. “Happy Holidays.”
He nodded. “You too.”
“How’s F1 going?”
“Good, well. I like it,” he scratched the back of his neck.
“Well, we’ve all been cheering you on from here,” you smiled. “I can’t wait to see what you do next year.”
He smiled and nervously chuckled. “Thank you.”
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As he watched you over the coming days, enjoying your company, even when he wasn’t the centre of your attention, he found himself becoming even more shy, even more confused, and increasingly love-sick.
He just had to find a way to make himself tell you, easy, right?
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Logan Sargeant: idek
Y’know how you’re told that when boys like you, they’ll bully you? That’s bullshit, they’re just bullies and their parents make excuses for them.
You watched as Logan got into your car, getting ready to drive it, and you felt yourself tense up. You’d never gotten along with Logan, growing up in the same racing series, only you pivoted to Indycar and he went to F1. Now he was about to drive your car. You’d never been more nervous. You were the Indycar champion this year, the first women to do it, and you were proud. Giving your car over to Crash-Sargeant wasn’t exactly your choice, but you still had hope that he could drive it.
You went up to him as he was about to get it, and grabbed his hand, holding him in place. “If you fucking car my car I will cut your balls off Sargeant. Don’t fuck with me, alright?” you whispered, getting close enough to feel his breath on your cheek. He smirked and nodded, ripping his hand out of your grasp.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
He was already hearing wedding bells. Utterly and totally in love with you.
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Daniel Riccardo: nothing like a big gesture, right?
He dropped you off outside departures, a sad smile on his face. “Don’t want you to go,” he sighed.
You rolled your eyes, then wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek as his hands circled your waist. “What’re you doing today?”
“Stuff for Enchanté,” he explained.
“That’s why you can’t come this weekend? Not up to being my WAG in Haas?” you smirked, pressing small kisses to his cheeks as you spoke.
“God no, I only go there for Nico,” he smirked. “And you’re replacing him today.”
You rolled your eyes, letting god of him. “Fuck you!” you called after you, trying to suppress a smile. He watched as you walked off, shaking your head and he thought about everything. Every night he went to sleep with you in his arms, every morning he woke up beside you, every smile he saw, every laugh he made happen, every hug or kiss he got from you. He smiled, realising the truth.
He loved you.
Therefore he ran after you, making a huge scene in the airport. When he finally made it up to you, there were 2 security guards chasing him, so he wrapped his arms around you and kissed you harshly, a bright smile on his face. “I love you,” he smiled when he pulled away.
“You’re going to get fucking arrested!” you stressed, wide-eyed and shocked at his behavior.
“For being in love?”
“No, you idiot, for bypassing security and running through an airport without a ticket! Go back!” you pushed him off of you with an exasperated and amused smile.
“I love you!” he called after himself as he was taken away by the security guards.
“I love you too, you fucking idiot!” you scoffed. “You have a phone, y’know!”
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Liam Lawson: will NOT speak to you at any cost
Being in love with one of his mechanics probably wasn’t the greatest idea, but the heart wants what the heart wants, and his wanted you.
“Liam can I-?” you started, but he just walked away, his eyes glued to the floor. You followed behind him, trying again and again to get his attention, but he continued ignoring you, and you'd had enough. “Fuck’s sake- Liam! Stop being such a dick! I don’t know if you just don’t respect me, or if you don’t like me, but I’m a mechanic on your time, and I'm asking if there’s anything you want us to change about your car to make you more comfortable. Just answer me that simple question and I promise I won’t bother you again all weekend!”
He froze on the spot. “I’m in love with you-” he blurted out, then clapped a hand over his mouth. “The car is fine, sorry. Thanks.”
Then he walked off, leaving you in a stunned silence.
What the fuck had he just done?
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Charles LeClerc: weirdly calm about it
You two sat on (one of) his (many) yacht(s), overlooking the gorgeous Monaco bay. He had an arm around you, both of you dressed in comfortable clothes with nothing to do for the entire weekend. Oh, how he adored the off-season. You were too busy reading a book to notice the way he was looking at you. In the simple, silent moment it hit him suddenly that he was in fact, in love with you. And it didn’t scare him the way previous girlfriends confessing such things to him had. It felt right, completely normal, even.
“Do you want anything?” you yawned.
“Pardon?” he asked, too busy in his own world.
“I’m ordering food, do you want something?”
“I’m alright, but let me get it,” he offered and you scoffed.
“Fuck off Percvél. I can pay for my own food,” you chuckled, getting up and walking further into the boat.
He chuckled, watching after you.
Wow, he was mature. And, in love.
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Carlos Sainz: definitely not freaking out
“I love you,” you confessed as the two of you cosied up at the beach. It had been a brilliant holiday, the two of you actually getting to spend some time together.
He looked at you with wide-eyes.
“Sorry if that was too soon, or too much. I just… wanted you to know. You don’t have to say anything back- of course.”
While you were catastrophising, he was freaking out. You loved him. You told him you loved him. Holy shit.
He stuttered for a moment, making you grimace. You’d fucked it up, definitely. There was no way he felt the same, right? You were probably just a 7 month long hook-up to him, right?
“I love you too,” he smiled, then pressed his lips to yours.
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Arthur LeClerc: accidental
“Arthur is so whipped!” his friend laughed, watching as Arthur helped you set the table for dinner. Arthur just laughed, whereas, you frowned. Did Arthur think you were too clingy? Too demanding? Too much?
Throughout dinner, you were pretty quiet, and you didn’t even let Arthur help you clean up. You went to bed early as he entertained the guests alone, and when he came to bed, there was a pillow between either sides of your bed. He frowned.
“Baby,” he cooed, wrapping his arms around you and placing your head in the crook of his neck. “What is the problem?”
You sniffled. “It’s nothing,” you shook your head. “I’m sorry.”
He felt his heart warm when you held on to him, revelling in the fact that you would choose him to comfort you. “It’s just what-”
“Please don’t tell me you took to heart the comment Harry made?” he scoffed. You were quiet. “My love, I love you, I like helping you, I like being there for you, I like kissing and hugging you. If he has a problem with that then he can fuck off,” he chuckled, then stopped when he realised what he’d said.
“You love me?” you sniffled, raising your head to look at him.
He smiled. “Of course I do,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Always.”
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Ollie Bearman: overwhelmed
He smiled as he watched you dance on the dancefloor of the club. You looked so free and happy, smiling brightly with friends as the lights flashed and the music was loud enough to feel it in your entire body.
“Dude, you two are so in love, it’s adorable,” Paul, his friend, pointed out.
“I don’t- we’re not-”
“Haven’t said it yet?” Paul chuckled. “You should. I think she’d say it back.”
Ollie nodded, trying to pretend his entire world hadn’t been flipped upside down. You. Love. He wasn’t in love, right? All boyfriends wanted their girlfriends beside them at all times, right? All boyfriends missed their girlfriends so much that they flew them out to every race, right? All boyfriends had begged their girlfriends to meet his parents, and vice versa only months into getting together, right? All boyfriends felt suffocated when their girlfriends weren’t around, right?
Oh shit, he was in love with you. He stepped outside to get some air.
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After a while of not seeing Ollie, you went outside to find him. You found him, leaning against the wall of the club, staring off into space.
“Alright?” you asked, gently placing a hand on his cheek.
He looked at you and smiled. “Alright,” he nodded, wrapping his hands around your waist.
“Why’d you leave?” you asked.
“Needed some air,” he admitted. It wasn’t untrue.
“For 30 minutes?” you questioned and he knew he’d been caught. “Did Paul say something stupid? Need me to beat him up for you?”
He chuckled, pulling you closer to him. “No, I’m alright. I was just… thinking.”
“Dangerous pastime,” you teased and he chuckled. “What about?”
“You,” he confessed.
“What about me?”
“I’m in love with you,” he answered nervously.
“Oh yeah?” you smiled and he nodded. “Good thing I love you too.”
Wow, Paul was right, for once.
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Max Verstappen: strange man
He watched from the other side of the plane as you played chess against his mother, bright smiles on both of your faces as the game progressed. He noticed the way your nose crinkled, the way your eyes shone, the comfortable position you sat in. He thought of every moment he got to share with you, and he almost teared up thinking of the best ones. He loved you. But he wouldn’t tell you, not yet.
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He thrust into you, euphoria so close he could almost touch it. “Good girl, he groaned, feeling your nails in his back. “Taking me so well.”
You just moaned against his skin, too cockdrunk to really notice what was going on around you. Max was a 4 time world champion. He’d done it. The first thing he’d wanted was to fuck you silly in his hotel room.
He was close, he slowed down his thrusts, much to your dismay, and slowly but firmly continued.
“I,” thrust. “Love,” thrust. “You.”
And he came inside you as you screamed into his shoulder, reaching your own peak. He hadn’t even meant to say it, it just came out (see what I did there? 😀). He stared down at you as you looked back up at him with wide eyes.
“You love me?” you questioned.
He nodded, his mouth dry. He was trying to focus on the softness of this moment, whilst also having to deal with your tight walls around his cock. Torture.
“I love you too,” you smiled, flipping him over and straddling him. He groaned when he saw you on top of him and he was hard again. “Let me take care of you, yeah? My winner,” you smirked before starting to move on his cock.
He was in for a long night. But a long night with the woman he loved.
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Paul Aron: finally is a victim of humility
“Paul, just tell her!” Ralf, his brother, argued. “She adores you, you’re in love with her, it’s alright!”
“But… what if she doesn’t say it back?” He asked, much more insecure than he meant it to sound. He wasn’t used to being unsure when it came to romance. Paul had always been the type of guy to get any girl he wanted, with you it had been different. You’d hated his guts. He had to prove to you he was a good guy, then you’d finally gone out with him, and fast forward a year, he was trying to figure out how to tell you he loved you. He’d only realised it last night, when you were waiting in his apartment with dinner made for the two of you for the simple reason ‘just because’. In that moment he’d wrapped his arms around you and kissed you to stop himself from ruining the night and confessing right then and there.
Ralf groaned. “You are impossible!”
When did love become so complicated?
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Jack Doohan: so not casual
Jack watched as you wiped out in the waves once again, a giggle on his lips. As you resurfaced, he saw the panic in your eyes and he swam over, his body taking over before his brain could say anything.
“You alright?” he called, swimming over to you. You shook your head wildly, tears forming in your eyes.
“M-my leg,” you whimpered out, trying to keep yourself above water. He grabbed your waist and held you bridal-style so he could swim back to shore, signalling to the lifeguards as finally got you to shore. He saw the issue when you two were out of the water, a huge gash on your left leg, so bad you could see the bone. The cracked bone.
What ensued for the next 9 hours was a flurry of an ambulance, hospital rooms, and surgery, but the only constant was Jack. he stayed there the entire time, and he was there when you woke up.
He breathed a sigh of relief when your eyes opened. “Hey baby,” he smiled, easy as ever despite the worry he’d been under extreme stress all day. “You’re awake.”
You nodded, taking his hand. “I’m so sorry about today-”
“Don’t apologise. We all get hurt sometimes, it’s alright,” he reassured you. “Plus, it’s not like I can be mad at you.”
“Why not?” you asked.
“Because I love you,” he shrugged. He’d realised in the 9 hours of stress that he wouldn’t go to this extent for anyone else, and that he must be insane or in love (which were probably the same thing) to somehow be blindsighted into bringing you to the most dangerous part of the beach for surfing (we was persuaded by you kissing him lots) and then bringing you to the ER and staying with you the entire time. So, he chose the love one, it sounded better.
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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)
#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 x you#formula one imagine#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x you#formula one x reader#formula 1#formula one#oscar piastri x fem!reader#f1 fluff#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc imagine#daniel riccardo x reader#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x reader#alex albon x reader#george russell x reader#george russell#lando norris x you#f1#arthur leclerc x reader#liam lawson x reader#paul aron x reader#logan sargeant x reader#franco colapinto x reader#ollie bearman x reader#jack doohan x reader
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when another member walks in on you ateez ot8 x fem!reader
silly little thing i wrote between clients today
smut below the cut! mdni ↓ dom/sub dynamics, exhibitionism, oral sex, p in v lol, lmk if i missed anything !!
hongjoong ☄️
“shut up slut, they’ll hear you. i bet you want that, don’t you?” he had your face buried in your mattress, drool slipping from your mouth, your ass up in the air where he was relentlessly drilling into you.
you moaned, you had stopped caring about your volume long ago, they would hear hongjoong’s thrusts before your moans anyhow. you clenched around him, only making him hiss out and reach over to push your head impossibly farther into the mattress.
you pissed him off— you got a little too close to wooyoung, talked for a little too long and hongjoong was livid.
“you want him to hear you, don’t you? want him to hear all the pretty sounds you make? showing off, huh? attention whore,” his words were venom, his lips inches from your ear with how he bent over you, foot planted on the mattress beside your shoulder.
“are you guys oka— oh shit, i’m so sorry,” hongjoong lets go of your head only for the two of you to snap your faces up to the intruder, hongjoong stilling inside of you.
“what the fuck?” was all hongjoong could get out, a stunned wooyoung in the doorway, his jaw on the floor at the sight in front of him. “wooyoung! get out!”
“it didn’t sound like you were fucking! i got scared,” you heard wooyoung yell as he closed the door behind him, leaving hongjoong to pick right back up where he left off.
“don’t think i missed how you clenched around me, whore.”
seonghwa 🫧
seonghwa had you on your knees while he sat on the bed, leaned back on one arm with the other around your ponytail, guiding you up and down his length.
in a black tank top and gray sweatpants he looked so fucking sexy in the living room, you couldn’t help but pull him into his bedroom for a minute alone — you needed to taste him, show him how much he affected you.
“fuck, you’re so good at that,” his words were quiet, a low rasp to his voice as he tugged on your hair a little harder. your mouth slipped off of him with a pop, batting your eyelashes up at him with a knowingly coy smile.
he groaned, a little louder this time, his head falling back. “don’t look at me like that or your throat’s getting fucked.”
you giggled, mouth attaching to him again, bobbing your head up and down a little faster now. he bucked his hips up little by little, using more force with each stroke and you took him proudly, small gags and noises of nasty wetness leaving your lips.
the door opened without either of you noticing, only catching a head of brown hair leaving seonghwa’s bedroom with a shriek of surprise. this wasn’t the first time yeosang had walked in on you, but it still made you laugh every damn time.
you looked up to seonghwa with a giggle on your lips after popping off him again, seonghwa wearing a smile himself.
“how many times do you think we’ll scar him before he stops coming in here?” seonghwa asks, letting go of your ponytail.
“if he was going to catch on, he would’ve by now,” you readjusted yourself on your knees during the pause, shaking your head before bringing your focus back on his delicious length before you. “you said something about fucking my throat right?”
yunho 🧍🏻♂️
you and yunho had been waiting for a day alone for weeks. for too long had you been silenced in the hours from one to three, his fingers clamped over your lips or stuffed between them in an attempt to keep you quiet. comeback season was busy, and when there was time off everyone lazed around the dorms and didn’t fucking leave.
now, on your third consecutive day off, the dorms were empty and yunho took advantage. he had your hands pinned under your back with a belt he had just taken off, hips snapping into you so hard the sound was sure to be heard outside.
“sloppy little cunt sucking me right the fuck in,” he hissed, hips cracking into your thighs, his fingers keeping you still.
you were wailing at this point, tears streaming down your face, begging for reprieve while also thinking if he stopped you’d die.
“don’t stop,” you repeated, a mantra on your tongue, from your hips being slanted upward his cock was hitting that spongy spot in your walls that drove you fucking insane.
you were so close, mere thrusts away from hitting your peak, and the door busted open, an out of breath mingi stood at the door.
“the rest of the guys are walking in right behind me,” mingi’s words were panicked in a warning, but yunho didn’t stop. he ignored his friend, knowing you were so close, wanting your high to crash over you so he could follow.
you screamed — mingi couldn’t move. yunho fucked you through it, thrusts only quickening to meet his own end, until he doubled on top of you with two large hands landing right beside your head.
yunho turned to look at mingi, a smirk playing on his lips with heaving breaths, “enjoyed the show?”
yeosang 👥
everyday yeosang woke you up the same way: his fingers or his head between your thighs until you were creaming around him, then he replaced it with his cock. it wasn’t a good morning until you had at least one, if not two orgasms.
this morning he was greedy— it seemed he didn’t want to let you go. you came on his face once, his fingers a second time, and he was working you up to a third on his lap. if yeosang could do anything it was last, his stamina was like no other, he could go for hours if you let him.
you had your knees planted on the mattress beside his hips, his cock hitting your cervix continuously as you grind your hips back and forth against him, your nails clawing at his shoulders. his head was leaning against the headboard, leaving his throat open to you, where you licked and sucked pretty little bruises across the base of his neck, little whines leaving his throat.
“yes, baby, ‘m so close,” he croaked out, his voice raspy and deep, his abs clenching with every grind of your hips.
“cum for me then yeo, fill me up,” your hand moved from his shoulder to wrap your fingers around his neck, pulling him towards you to connect your chest to his.
your mornings weren’t usually so filthy, never downright nasty, bringing your skin to touch his brought a sense of intimacy back to your morning.
his head fell onto your shoulder with a groan, filling you up just as you told him to, thighs twitching beneath you. you moaned at the feeling, letting your head rest atop his, bringing your hands to tangle in his hair.
“you guys awake yet?” seonghwa popped into your room, making you twist your body around to look at him, eyes wide.
“definitely awake,” he pulled his lips into a line, bidding you a singular nod before closing the door again. a huff of amusement left your lips as you looked back down to the boy laying on your shoulder, patting his head, giving him a moment to come back before you’d take your morning shower together.
san 🚪
san couldn’t wait. you were at your favorite club, both tipsy and horny, dancing to the beat of the song before san’s fingers dipped below your dress. you looked up to him with wide eyes, met with a filthy smirk and a pair of dimples that ushered you towards the men’s bathroom.
“san, anyone could walk in,” you were uneasy, san was never so impatient that he needed you then and there. he’d never portrayed signs of exhibitionism before today, your sex life had always been private — you liked it that way, yet the hunger in his eyes and the spark left in the wake of his fingers on your skin made you excited.
“let them see how good i fuck you then,” he hummed, fingers flipping up your dress, plunging into your core that was so wet he slipped in. the squelch of his fingers was deafening, you thanked god the bathroom was empty.
he stuffed you into a stall, fingers still curling into you before he slipped your panties to the side, replacing his fingers with his cock. the pace he set was brutal, your hands bracing the wall above the toilet as he fucked into you from behind, hips slapping into your ass.
you fought to keep your moans inside, pointless as the sound of skin slapping would overpower them anyway. san groaned, “knew you’d be wet, naughty girl. you were basically begging me to fuck you on the dance floor for everyone to see.”
a whine escaped you, nails clawing against the tile of the wall. he slipped a hand around your hips, coming between your legs, rubbing your clit at a pace he knew would have you coming in seconds
“fuck, san, harder please,” you breathed out, head dipping below your arms, hanging between them.
he listened, quickening his pace, fucking you somehow harder than he was before. his fingers worked in a quick rhythm, making the pit in your stomach grow until you were overflowing on his dick.
“yeah, that’s it, baby. cum all over my cock,” he was drunk off your pussy, words slurring together, keeping his pace on your clit to ride you through it.
when you were twitching from overstimulation he emptied himself inside you, head falling to the center of your spine. there was nothing but the sound of heavy breaths in the public restroom, you and san catching your breath and your sanity before he flipped your dress back down and zippered himself back up.
when you left the stall, jongho was washing his hands at the sink, barely giving you a glance as you stepped into view.
“how long have you been in here?” san asked, a pink rising to his cheeks, looking like a completely different person than he had moments ago.
“unfortunately, long enough. broke the seal so i had no choice,” jongho shrugs as he grabs paper towels, drying off his palms. “make sure you two wash your hands.”
mingi 🫶
the say my name stage always fucked you up, it never failed. being on stage period always fucked mingi up, that never failed either. it was safe to say that your post-show routine was always fucking backstage, it happened every stop, every show, you lost count of how many dressing rooms in foreign countries you’ve been fucked within an inch of your life in.
what was abnormal was mingi not waiting until the show was over. always professional, mingi waited until everyone was no longer sprinting around backstage with mini-fans and makeup brushes to touch up the eight boys before they had to head back out onstage.
as he came off the stage, his walk was fast paced, precise. it would’ve scared you if you didn’t know what it meant. his fingers hooked around your arm, dragged you further backstage, and had you in a random closet in a stadium completely foreign to you.
he was quick to split you open, granted say my name was within their first set so you were already dripping by the time he made it between your legs.
“always so ready for me,” he mumbled out, zeroed in on your center but eyes still not fully clear. in his post performance haze he was always rougher, selfish, not a care in the world for you. it was your favorite.
“put it in,” you barked out, hips bucking toward him and he was sheathed within seconds. giving you no time to get used to the stretch you wheezed, head lolling onto his shoulder, and he let loose.
he fucked you stupid, you joined him in whatever haze his brain was under as he pounded into you, hips clapping into the silence of the dark storage room. you heard footsteps outside but mingi made no moves to halt his thrusts, only focused on one thing, getting the two of you off before he had to go back onstage.
“are you fucking?” yunho’s voice wasn’t clear until he had the door open, light cascading into the storage room, yours and mingi’s necks snapping to look at the intruder.
he was smirking — he knew what he was walking into yet he did it anyway. you and mingi both smiled cheshire grins as yunho stepped inside the storage room, quickly slamming the door shut behind him.
“why didn’t you invite me?”
wooyoung 🐈⬛
wooyoung had you splayed out on the bed, legs bent up with his head between them. eating you out was adjacent to your meditation time, as he calls it, it's his favorite way to wind down. after a long day, after a short day, during his day, it didn’t matter when. wooyoung was always down to eat you out, eager even — he is a man not above begging.
your chin was shot back, eyes screwed tight, wooyoung had made you cum on his tongue twice so far and he was nowhere near finished.
after eating you through your second orgasm his licks had slowed down, easing up his pressure, making his tongue soft and pliable instead of hard and pointed.
soft moans left your lips, he knew by now how to work you through overstimulation, lazily licking at your clit until your moans turned to whines once more.
“taste so fucking good, could eat this pussy all night,” his eyes were fully closed, he was in a dream. between your legs was his happy place, he’d die there a happy man, he’d admitted it more than once. more than ten times, at least.
when he noticed your breaths getting shorter and your moans shifting to a higher pitch he was sharp with his movements, picking up his pace, licking up your folds and sucking on your clit with swollen lips.
hongjoong bounced through the door, “hey wooyo, you- jesus fucking christ!”
your legs snapped shut, closing over wooyoung’s head and he pried himself out of your cage with painted fingertips, jumping up to face hongjoong at the door.
“what?” wooyoung asked, palm swiping at his chin.
“i’m scarred,” hongjoong muttered, voice horrified with hands covering his eyes. your hands fled for the blankets, pulling them over your body with a speed you weren’t expecting to have to use.
“what do you want, joong?” wooyoung asked, rushed yet still casual, sitting on his knees. his abdomen was clenched, muscles on display as he twisted backward, you didn’t even care that hongjoong was in the room.
“i was going to ask if you had a spare pair of headphones,” his voice was barely above a squeak, hands still covering his eyes.
“oh, yeah i do, here, they’re my sony 1000MX—”
“i don’t give a fuck wooyoung, give them to me so i can leave.”
jongho 🧸
you were hanging out with jongho in the dance practice room as he practiced the same routine again, the fifth time tonight.
he groaned in frustration after missing a step again, the same step he’s missed the past four times he’s gone through the routine. his hands cover his face, dragging down his cheeks.
you get up from your spot on the floor, making your way in front of him, grabbing his hands to hold in yours.
“why don’t you stop for the night?” you tilt your head, nothing but warmth in your eyes as you stare into his, cold and irritated.
“i need to get this fucking right,” his lips are pursed, his eyebrows are knit together as he barks, “i need to clear my head.”
within minutes he had you on your hands and knees atop the hardwood floor, bodies facing the mirror that spread across the wall, forcing you to watch yourself as he fucked you stupid.
“see that?” he smirked at you through the mirror, fingers tight on your hips, “nothing but a cocksleeve whenever i want it, so willing for me.”
his words were cool and calm, almost a threat on his lips as he abused your core. your eyebrows were tangled and your mouth hung open, knees and palms burning from the pressure against the harsh wood.
“yes, just for you,” you manage to choke out between thrusts, body jolting forward with each thrust.
“that’s right baby,” he nods, his smile turning villainous, only fucking into you harder as he spits, “such a fucking whore, letting me fuck you in public like this.”
you nod, eyes screwed shut, “d-don’t fucking stop.”
his chuckle is deep, his thrusts losing their rhythm, “you want it? want me to fill this filthy pussy up?”
the door to the practice room opens, san strolls inside with a smile on his face before he sees the two of you — he shrieked. “what the fuck!?”
jongho stilled, laying himself atop your body, trying to cover you as best he could. his words come out nervous, “get the fuck out!”
san slips back out of the door, then peeks his head back in, “wait, when are you gonna be done? i want to practice.”
“san!”
masterlist
#ateez#ateez smut#ateez x female reader#ateez x y/n#ateez x you#ateez x reader#ateez scenarios#ateez hard thoughts#ateez hard hours#ateez kim hongjoong#kim hongjoong#hongjoong smut#ateez seonghwa#park seonghwa#seonghwa smut#ateez yunho#jeong yunho#yunho smut#ateez yeosang#kang yeosang#yeosang smut#ateez san#choi san#san smut#choi san smut#ateez mingi#song mingi#mingi smut#ateez wooyoung#jung wooyoung
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"#yes yes yes!!!! #and ngl it makes me want to read or engage with it more too!"
i hope it's ok to point out these tags bc this is SUCH a huge mood i think deserves a little more explanation!!!! (at least from my perspective as both a creator (writer) and fan (of artists))
i used to have a ton of anxiety when creating and especially sharing my works, and my impulse was always to talk down on it, because a) i* (*my anxiety) believed it to be bad, and b) because i had this idea in my head that if i lowered people's expectations, they wouldn't be as disappointed when reading it.
i want to tell you what i've learned in my years of both being a writer and being a fan of artists, and it's that this is a terrible, terrible anxiety fallacy (like so many ideas/misconceptions borne of anxiety are) that ONLY hurts you, your work, and your potential readers(/fans/etc). it SOUNDS like a good idea when you have really bad anxiety, i know, i used to DEPEND upon this idea just to have the courage to SHARE my writing—and i want to emphasize that it's OKAY if you've done this before, it's an easy, easy trap to fall into, but i also want you to try and stop doing it because there are a lot of reasons you would feel better and do better for doing so.
you are what you practice! if you only ever focus on or speak about the flaws in your art, you WILL feel negatively about your art. my very first therapist explained it in a way that still really resonates with me: you have created a well-beaten, highly trafficked "road" in your brain. it is very easy to take this road because even though it's longer to your destination, it winds and bends, it's walked on so much it's flat and easy to traverse. when you try to build a NEW path—in this case, a path where you focus on what you like about your art—you're starting with no path at all. it's all undergrowth and vines and thorns and it hurts and it's tiring and you feel like this will NEVER be easier or feel better than the old path. but you have to keep taking the new one. you have to beat down the undergrowth until it recedes, cut down the low-hanging branches until you can walk with your back straight, and if you keep at it, if you keep at this thing that feels so pointless and stupid and hard, eventually, the path will be clear, and easy to walk, and you'll make great time getting to your destination because it cuts straight through; no winding or bending. and the old path? it will overgrow, and it will become hard and stupid to take. you have to beat the new path because once it's beaten, it'll be the far superior path in every way, including ways the old path was never superior even when it WAS the one you were always taking.
further—as these tags point out, and as i agree with wholeheartedly—by disparaging your art, you DO lower people's expectations. people don't want to be sad, frustrated, disappointed when they look at art—at least, not unless the art itself is trying to tell a story about that. you get what i mean, i hope—they don't want to go INTO something they already HAVE negative reviews on—your reviews! you, the creator, have already told this person the story/art/whatever is going to be bad, and i know, i KNOW it's not your intention, you're hoping someone will see through what you can't and tell you no, no, this is good, i liked this! and some people do! but you make it a lot harder for them TO do that when you tell them right at the beginning, "this is going to be bad, i don't like it," because what you're unintentionally telling them is, "and you probably won't like it either." the first way i learned this was in people always saying in their fanfic summaries, before you even open the fic, "the summary is bad, i'm bad at writing summaries, the story is better trust me bro." because what this does—again, so unintentionally, i KNOW what you're trying to do because i've been you—is you're telling the reader, "here's my pitch, here's the hook to my entire story, it's the worst part, it's bad, but the rest will be better," and what they KNOW is they've already put the time in reading the summary, and it's hard to commit MORE time to something when you've already told them it's bad, even if you promise the rest is better. it's like biting into a fruit and you hate the taste of the skin; it's harder to try the rest of the fruit when, so far, it's been bad (or you've been made to believe it's bad).
so what's the solution? how do you begin beating that new path? well, it depends on you. everyone's a little different in how they navigate stuff like this. but what worked for me, and what might be a good place to start (and by all means adapt as you figure out what works and what doesn't), is start by just NOT saying anything negative. no, "i don't like this," or "the summary's bad, sorry," or anything. write your artist's comment, author's note, whatever as normal, and REMOVE anything that depicts your art/writing/etc in a bad light. just don't give people any opinion whatsoever on what experiencing your creation is going to be like. this, for me, was easier than jumping straight to, "i'm pretty proud of this," or "i enjoyed working on this," because it wasn't withholding AND replacing, it was JUST withholding. going back to the roads and paths metaphor, i think of this part as the "taking a breather before i get to work on this monumental task of beating this new path" stage.
then, overtime, i started "stretching" my positive comments about my works. if i liked, say, TWO LINES out of a whole piece of writing, i'd say, "i'm really proud of this work!" because i AM proud of ANYTHING AT ALL, NO MATTER HOW SMALL, within the work. it's not a LIE, to anyone including yourself, but it is, perhaps, an EXAGGERATION. that's OKAY. we're trying to teach our brain to look on the bright side, to take the new path, and i've found that treating it a little bit like a dog—giving it a treat for ANY TINY BIT OF PROGRESS, was a good way to encourage myself to start making MORE progress. ESPECIALLY because the tags i reposted above are RIGHT: LOTS of people are MORE interested in a work when their very first impression (YOUR impression!!!) is positive. 'the artist/writer/etc is proud of this? oh, i'm so glad they had a good time creating, let's take a look!" it probably sounds too easy if you're still taking that anxiety-beaten road, i know, but try to think of how you've felt when someone disparages their creations versus uplifts them. were you put off by the negativity? were you sad that your friend worked so hard on something and didn't even like it? conversely, doesn't it make you a little excited when an artist says they really feel good about something they made, especially in a world where so many artists ARE feeling inadequate? i hope you see what i mean.
it's not an overnight thing, of course, this took me YEARS. this took a miracle that doesn't happen to most people: i wrote something i felt SO TERRIFIED people wouldn't like, even though i was secretly very proud of it (but too scared to dare suggest i was proud of it), so i indicated all kinds of things like "i hope you like it, i dunno if it's any good, it's just a little thing i'm chipping away at in my spare time" (it was not, it was a full-blown passion project) and, against the odds, a LOT OF PEOPLE told me they really really really liked it. a couple of friends who were decently popular in the fandom it was for liked and shared it and i got A LOT of encouragement. i basically got to beat my new path with a HORDE of helpers, and it was more like THEY beat the path for me and i chased along like, "what is happening, oh my god, what are you doing???"
i got really lucky. that doesn't always, or even usually happen. in most other areas of my life, i've had to beat the path myself. and it takes a long time if you're doing it on your own. but you should anyway, because it's so fucking worth it dude. yeah, it was awesome to get so much help with my writing confidence specifically, but it's been just as worth it every time i've had to do it alone too. and i have good news! there ARE ways to tell people you're on this journey of making yourself a new path. here are some suggestions:
"i'm new/rusty at this, so please let me know what you think!" - informs potential readers/viewers/etc you are learning and gives them an opportunity to HELP you learn. this is a positive interaction! this allows people to find a GOOD experience EVEN if they didn't enjoy the story much, because they can help, and people DO, MOSTLY, like to help.
"i want to improve at [dialogue]" or "i'd appreciate advice on [lighting]." - similar to the first example, but does 2 things: gives viewers specific instructions that can be really helpful for those that aren't sure how/what to critique (surprisingly common thing; the more specific you are about what you want advice on, the more likely you are to GET advice), AND allows you to, neutrally and non-disparagingly, ask for help in areas you don't feel confident about.
"leave a comment if you liked it!" or "let me know what you liked best!" - listen. i don't think 'fishing for compliments' is bad as long as you're not being manipulative about it. these examples are very clear in what they're asking for, which is compliments, positive reviews, etc. and that's okay!!! first of all, lots of people LOVE praising works they like, i promise, and asking them to DOES make them feel like they have "permission" to (i know that sounds silly but i also know if you have anxiety about creating, you have anxiety about commenting, i see you, i was you). secondly, i have gotten the MOST encouraging, confidence-boosting comments this way, especially with the latter example. there is NOTHING more immediately anxiety-curing than a comment that says "i liked [scene/dialogue/character/etc] specifically." it's AMAZING. (also, if you're looking for advice on commenting, this is a GREAT thing to do. imo, this and "speculating/interpreting the work" are the two coolest comments i get they make me feel AWESOME.)
remind yourself, as many times as you have to, CONSTANTLY if you have to: likes/kudos mean someone enjoyed your work enough to press a button. views mean someone liked your work enough to click through for more. these are POSITIVE interactions, they are not "less positive" than comments or reblogs/reshares. i know those last two things are more obviously gratifying, and depending on if you NEED your work to spread (for exposure/commision prospects/etc), very good, awesome ways to support you, and i don't mean to say you shouldn't WANT comments and reblogs/reshares. but for me, it's helped me a lot to recognize that any bit of effort whatsoever means someone LIKED my work. it's also helped me to think of all the times i've shared a link to an artwork in a discord or something, and know that there is an entire, untangible metric i can't and will never see that, sure, i can choose to believe doesn't exist or isn't very high, but i can ALSO choose to believe it happens quite a lot, and the latter makes me FEEL better about my work and makes me want to create MORE, so i think that's the more productive mindset personally. it doesn't matter what the truth is, you know? we'll never know it and it doesn't harm us to never know it. but it DOES harm us to assume no one quietly, unseen by us, likes our work, and it DOES ENCOURAGE US to assume lots of people do.
here's the thing: anxiety disorders fuck you up by making you believe extremely negative, scary, depressing things. the disorder gets worse the more you allow it to make you believe these things, and the only way out, as stupid and hard and at times impossible as it feels, is to say, "no, i don't like that interpretation, i'm going to replace it with a positive one." anxiety is making paths all throughout your brain, and you have to just, make paths too. anxiety needs YOU to make paths, but YOU don't need anxiety to make paths. your paths WILL be better, safer, easier and happier. you just—and i know that is the biggest "just" ever—have to make them.
but i believe in you. i don't need to know you or your circumstances to believe in you. i believe in the sheer amount of control you have over how you face the world. and it's so much more than anxiety would lead you to believe.
i looooove seeing artists & writers proud of their work!!!!! i looooove captions & authors notes that say things like “i’m quite happy with this” “i love how this turned out” “i had so much fun making this”!!!!!! i loooooove when the act of creation is joyful & we take pride in what we make!!!!!!!!!!
#yoshi talks#this is so important to me and those tags really resonated with me and reminded me of my own journey into getting to that point a lot#most of all: keep creating. and keep beating paths.#<3
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★ bargain bin — lando norris
coming clean part II lando norris x you —no warnings, just angst (the spice will be back next time, i promise) read part I here requested by anon; "sex while there is the background noise of a rainstorm outside"
“you can only come in if you promise we’re not going to fight.”
lando nodded, eyes soft. he looked exhausted, like he hadn't slept in days. you didn't know that he had only flown home from a triple header yesterday, you swore once the break up happened that you wouldn't worry about him anymore. but of course you did, secretly checking the race results, betrayed by your curiosity.
“the last thing i want is to fight with you,” he replied, barely above a whisper as you took a step to the side and allowed him into your apartment.
he was dripping wet from the storm outside, immediately ditching the bomber jacket hanging from his shoulders and kicking off the boots covered in your freshly cut lawn. he was apologetic about bringing the rain into your quaint apartment — he felt safer here than in his own place in monaco. he hated it there now, without you, swearing up and down that nothing but resentment and pain lived in those hallowed walls.
seeing him in the flesh felt different to what you expected. your heart clenched as he leaned against your couch, hands stuffed into his hoodie and dishevelled curls sweeping across his furrowed forehead. being in the same room for the first time in months changed everything, all the fears you’d built up in your mind melted away and the deep regret of letting go of someone so kind and generous churned in your stomach.
“you look tired, lan.”
the nickname caught his attention, eyes locking in on your expression to see how genuine you were — hoping to god you were giving him the same look you gave when you were together.
“i don’t even know how i managed to drive over here to be honest — just can’t sleep anymore,” lando grumbled, feet shuffling on your carpet.
“then we should go to bed…”
his eyes widened in surprise at your suggestion, “wha- are you… are you sure?”
you nodded and reached out for his hand, “come on.”
lando followed closely behind, heart thumping in his chest as you closed the bedroom door and walked to your closet, “i still have some of your clothes here,” you whispered, handing him a baggy shirt and a pair of shorts.
“thank you…” he managed to squeak out, tears slightly forming in his eyes, “you always look after me better than anyone else.”
“i know you’d do the same for me if i was struggling,” you stated, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world as you exited the bathroom in your pyjamas.
lando sighed and held his tongue. all he wanted to do was tell you how beautiful you looked and how much he appreciated your caring nature. instead, he crawled into bed beside you and rested his weary head on the pillow. the sound of the thundering storm outside your window would have been enough to lull him to sleep, especially with the warmth of your body so close to his. but he didn’t want to sleep, not with so many thoughts swirling around his busy mind.
“how have you been?” he asked, causing you to look over at him with a chuckle.
“i thought you were tired…”
lando shrugged and attempted to disguise his small smile, “i was but like i said in my text — i miss you a lot. miss talking to you and hearing your voice…”
“sounds like you’re down bad.”
“so bad.” he quipped back, shuffling closer to you like a magnet.
you shook your head and turned onto your side to face him completely, “i miss you too.”
“yeah?” he almost sounded shocked, playfully so but there was a hint of genuine scepticism in his cracking voice.
“yeah. miss a lot of things about you…”
“like what?” he taunted.
“just shut up and kiss me, you dork.”
lando didn’t need to be told twice as he closed the small space between you, scooping your waist into his arms and holding you tight. your noses bumped before your lips made contact, making your both giggle as he kissed you into the mountain of pillows.
a loud crack of lightning outside your window made you jump, instinctively pulling him even closer than humanely possible as his lips travelled down your neck — the rumbling of thunder murmured in sync with your heart beat. it felt like the first time you’d met all those years ago, so young and stupidly in love.
“i love being with you during storms like this… makes me feel safe.”
“i’ve got you and i’m not going anywhere.” he reassured sweetly in a whisper.�� you sighed in relief, relaxing into his touch while bringing his face up to yours with shaky hands. there was a nervous surge of energy when you looked into his sparkling green eyes, slightly darkened by the dimly lit room— you believed every word he had said that night and sealed it with a kiss, slowly melting into the covers as he made you feel like you were the only woman in the world.
a/n — very rarely does this happen but the spice would not come to me for this one. i feel like the vibe just felt different and honestly, i don't know how to feel about it hahaha i realised a long time ago that writing angst doesn't come naturally even though i'm a moody bitch - maybe it's because writing is my escapism lol #end of (f1) season sale!! —see what other customers are buying ✨
#lando norris#lando norris imagine#lando norris x reader#f1 imagine#f1 writing#formula 1 imagine#end of (f1) season sale!!#monzamashwriting#monzamusings ✨
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Oh god please write the timebomb fic!!! (or several lol)
ೀ pairing: ekko/jinx
ೀ wc: 5k
ೀ summary: "Always a dance with you, huh?" Or: two years after the battle versus Noxus, Ekko receives an unexpected visitor.
ೀ author notes: ask and you shall receive!!! I wrote this in one sitting in some weird ass haze and barely edited it, but this is the most fun I had in a long while so I hope you enjoy!!!
ೀ read it on ao3 | listen to the playlist
The first few days after the battle, Ekko doesn’t rest. He barely sleeps or eats, or allows himself time to think.
He can’t.
There’s too much to do. The dead are in their dozens. His Firelights took a major hit, and he knows that for the next few months his fingers will be numb from painting their pictures on the mural day in and out. So many who could have lived but didn’t. So many could have had better futures. But if he just runs, if he keeps pushing on, he can outrun these regrets and his grief, too. This way, he doesn’t remember Vi’s heartbroken expression when she pulled him into a bone-crushing hug after the fight, blood and sweat still clinging to her, her words choked when she told him—
Four seconds.
He could have saved her. He would have hauled her snarky ass out of that tunnel, ripped that bomb from her hands. He would have—
He runs from those thoughts, too. They suffocate him, and Ekko has too much to fix to be suffocated by his grief right now.
He sure as hell didn’t fight for Piltover. He fought for Zaun, for Firelights. Because he knew Ambessa Medarda would never settle for anything other than complete subjugation. She would have destroyed Ekko’s home. She was already busy murdering and imprisoning their people, and nothing but complete eradication would have followed in her wake.
Ekko did it for… her. The blue-haired symbol of defiance, of uprising. A loud declaration that they won’t live under Piltover’s oppression forever, that they’ll reach greater things one day and won’t be silenced. They won’t wait for permission to breathe again. It’s what she would have wanted, he convinces himself, even though part of him knows Jinx would have enjoyed the chaos of the fight more. Or maybe not. Not since that little girl. Not since he had to save her from herself over and over again, only to lose her anyway.
Undercity mourns her. Her visage is everywhere. Jinx the Saviour. She would have hated it, he thinks wryly. She never got to see just how loved she was.
Maybe he should have grabbed her and ran away. Maybe he should have let the world go to hell and saved her instead. The thought, born of fatigue, lingers only for a few fleeting seconds, a rare moment of selfishness amidst a day spent fixing the world around him.
Maybe, maybe, maybe. If only he had tried harder when they were kids and saved her from Silco. If only he didn’t give up on her.
She’s always been his biggest maybe. And now they’ll never be more. Not this version of them. Never him and her as they were.
Aw, are you gonna mope now, boy saviour?
“You’re not here.”
It punches clean through his chest. The realisation of it. The sheer, horrible weight. He’ll never see her again.
Constants and variables, Benzo told him once. Constants and variables, young Ekko.
A week after the battle versus Noxus, Ekko sinks to his knees inside his room, exhausted and heartbroken, and sobs.
.
Things begin to settle. Slowly, at first, the city might have been gutted after the battle but not destroyed, the morale low but hopeful. Hexgates are gone, and Ekko is glad when he finds out. He doesn’t want to see or hear anything about the arcane for a while. No magic in the world could fix the pain festering in his chest.
Sevika, Silco’s old second-in-command and once his sworn enemy, comes to him two weeks after the attack.
“They’re making me a council member,” she says, grunting when she falls into the tiny wooden chair inside his room.
She’s always been a threatening figure, power rippling from every shift of her body, but Ekko isn’t sure he wants to fight anyone right now. Nor does she seem interested in strangling him. She lights a cigarette, her scarred features set in a fearsome scowl.
“And?” he asks for anything better to say. “How is that any of my business?”
Sevika exhales through her nose, reminding him of an angry bull, all smoke and steely resolve. “I’m the only one presenting Zaun or her interests.”
Ekko almost rolls his eyes. Of course she is. The Council is simply falling over themselves to fix the situation. After months of harassment and oppression, false arrestments and beatings, they asked them to bleed for Piltover and its interests with nothing but the bare minimum courtesy extended towards them afterwards.
“I could use you, kid,” Sevika continues, and Ekko forces his anger away, loosening his fists. “Exactly for that reaction. You’re smart as hell, and been a pain in my ass for years. Pilties will try to walk all over us again in a few months’ time. You and I both know it. We gotta beat them in their own game. Not let them silence us again. I could use someone like you. Be my adviser. You’ll have a direct line to the Council. We’ll make an actual change. It’s better than whatever this is.”
Ekko’s expression sours at her words while Sevika’s gaze flicks around his room in contemplation. He works all day to a point of exhaustion, then passes out. It’s the only way he’s been able to continue, day in and day out. Being in a leadership position means you can’t take time off to grieve. Too many people are relying on him. It’s bad enough that he accidentally abandoned his people for months without meaning to. The guilt he still feels over everything has been nearly suffocating.
It’s a good gig, hero! You should do it and be a thorn in her side.
Ekko blinks the flash of blue from his vision, rubbing his brow just as Sevika adds: “It’s what she would have wanted, you know.”
A jolt of electricity runs through him. Everyone, even Vi, has been avoiding mentioning Jinx in front of him.
His jaw clenches. “You don’t know that.”
“Kid, I know what not letting go looks like,” she says, and it almost sounds compassionate, or as close to it as someone like her can get. “We had our differences in the past, I know as much—”
“You killed my people,” Ekko snaps. “Do you know how many lives you destroyed with Shimmer?”
“Sure do,” she replies listlessly, smoke billowing past her lips. “I won’t try to justify my actions to you. But y’know, when you were gone, Jinx united Zaun in a way I haven’t seen since Vander. Beats me how she did it, but people believed in her. Even your Firelights.”
It mirrors everything he’s seen and heard for weeks. Jinx freeing their people, Jinx the Saviour, the beacon for their new future. The one who set and lived by extreme examples, who made Piltover back off and take the Undercity seriously. Because they all finally realised that there can never be peace without a fight. She should be here to fight this battle with him. Ekko should be busy arguing with her that blowing up another building will not make things right. He shouldn’t be walking around with her ghost a step behind him, tormenting him with ideas of what could and should have been.
“And now she’s dead!”
His ears ring, his chest heaves, and he clutches his thudding heart, willing it back in its cage. He didn’t mean to come undone so easily.
“Yeah. Yeah, she is,” Sevika says, and there’s a grimness to her when she says it, an unexpected pain buried somewhere deep in her gruff voice that makes Ekko see her differently. “I get it.”
“No,” he whispers, pained. “You don’t.”
.
Seven months pass before Ekko finally picks up a brush for her.
He sleeps better at night but not without nightmares. Not without remembering Powder from the alternative universe and how they danced. How sweet her kiss felt. Not without that memory smearing to finding Jinx with a grenade in her hand, again, ready to disappear, go somewhere he could never reach her.
Ekko still hears the detonation in his ears, over and over, on a sickening loop. His mind likes to torture him with ideas he failed to save her. That no matter what he does, or how he mends time, she’s forever out of reach. His blue beacon, his lighthouse he can never find in the depthless ocean of reality.
Many have drawn her, but he still thinks that no one knows the exact hue of her hair or the wicked shine in her eyes better than him. He’s spent an entire lifetime examining them, looking for them in a sea of thousands.
Their city is rebuilding. He agreed to Sevika’s request after a few days of contemplation. Caitlyn Kiramman’s expression when he ambled into the Council room was worth the additional burden now on his shoulder. But she’s changed too, matured, and now fills her position as the Council’s leader well.
Ekko won’t forget how she allowed his friends to be imprisoned, tortured, and, in some cases, killed, but her regret made her side with him and Sevika more often than not during voting, and maybe he could at least one day forgive her. Another maybe. For Vi, if nothing else, who clearly loves the blue-haired woman fiercely.
The barren wall stares at him. He’s painted Powder before, but this is different. One day, his friend, his dearest friend, was simply gone. Without a goodbye, in a wake of tragedy. The life Ekko once had disintegrated beneath his feet overnight. Benzo killed. Vander dead. Mylo and Claggor too. Vi died as well. Or so he believed for years. Powder was missing until a different knife was delivered to him weeks later, when the word on the street spread about Silco being seen with a little girl with blue hair.
Ekko sighs, hanging his head. The city is healing, but he isn’t, or at least not as quickly.
He runs his hand over the white wall, picturing Jinx as he saw her last, those precious hours between talking her down from the abyss and their joint attack on Noxian forces. It felt so good to rely on her again, to stand with her, side by side. As natural as breathing.
You’re the order to my chaos, hero.
“Leave me alone,” he says quietly, head hung low. “It’s been months.”
A figment of Jinx chortles, arms crossed over her chest as she leans back against the wall. You would get bored to death without me. Ha! Get it?
Shooting a glare at her, Ekko picks up a brush, his fingers quivering. Tears burn in his eyes when he dips the brush into the paints he painstakingly mixed. He works, and works, until his eyes are dry and his wrist hurts. Ekko doesn’t stop until he loses light and when he steps back, he is looking at Jinx. Equal parts chaos and something ethereal.
He wipes angrily across his mouth when he tastes saltiness pooling there and goes home.
There’s no sleep that night.
.
Time is a strange thing. It weaves and flows. Without his Z-Drive, he has no control over it. Time simply goes on, and he’s the passenger in a vehicle he doesn’t want to move.
He’s important these days. He’s one of the few bright minds still left, and he’s endlessly busy with something. City of Progress needs every mind that can be spared. Wounds heal, and time dulls the memory, but not everything is so easily forgotten. Piltover moves quicker, but the Undercity erects a statue for Jinx beside Vander’s. He sees Vi at the ceremony, and they exchange strained smiles. They speak sometimes, but it’s not as often as it used to be. They’re both dealing with their grief the best they can.
At least Vi has Cait. Ekko has nothing but a cold bed and purpose.
He and Sevika make a good team. It almost makes him wonder what could have been in a universe where they were on the same side from the start. His Zaun, cracked but not broken, is resembling the bright version of the Zaun and Piltover he saw in the alternative verse. There're years of work still left, but there’s something like hope in him, fragile and misplaced as it might be.
A year passes. Then two. He visits the graves; he lights candles for those lost. Some days Ekko sees her, other days he doesn’t. He hopes for a glimpse, even when he knows he shouldn’t. It should be easier to let go of what you never had, right?
His mural for Jinx grows. Other faces join her, people who died believing in her, surrounding the one they placed their trust in. And, at the centre of it all, her, her, her.
Still her.
Always her.
.
He’s not sure what arouses him. He hasn’t slept well in years, perpetual exhaustion clinging to him like a shawl. Some would call it the weight of living, no doubt.
There’s a shift in the air, a disturbance that’s not enough to make Ekko jolt awake and reach for a weapon, but enough to make his eyes flutter open. He breathes the cool air, pushing his grogginess away.
There’s a shape at the foot of his bed. Small and round. It takes several seconds for his vision to adjust, for him to realise that a hooded figure sits perched on his bed, knees pulled to their chest.
Ekko hasn’t had to rely on his battle instincts in two years, but there’s enough left in him to attack without hesitation. His fingers tangle in the cloak, shoving the figure down, his knee pressing harshly into their abdominal, hands seeking the intruder’s throat—
“Wow, little man, you sure know how to roll out the welcoming mat,” the all too familiar voice drawls before his fingers tighten instinctively around the slender, warm throat.
A haggard breath forces from Ekko’s parted mouth. In the wild struggle, the stranger’s hood has slipped down, revealing a familiar face with a startling crop of blue hair. His heart squeezes painfully, forcing him away from Jinx’s apparition.
“Leave me alone,” he croaks, rubbing his eyes till his vision swims. “Just leave me alone! I don’t want to see you anymore!”
“Huh, fine. I thought after two years, the welcome would be a tad warmer. Brrr.”
Ekko pushes himself to his feet, stumbling away, watching warily as the young woman sits back up, picking at her messy hair. She looks different. A little older than Jinx from his visions or memories. Her hair is longer, though nowhere near the same length she once had braided into two twin braids. She swings her leg back and forth, another pulled up to her chest while she watches him. And… her eyes. Ekko was the last person to see her with blue eyes before their battle on the bridge. The last time he saw Jinx alive, they were a dangerous, burning violet.
Now, even with the shade of the night, they’re a muddy mix between the blue he once knew, and the piercing violet that made her so deadly. As if that restless edge in her has calmed down and settled.
Ekko’s chest heaves as he stumbles back a step.
“Soooo—” she begins.
“You’re alive.”
Jinx shrugs her shoulders. “Yup. Clearly. In the flesh even,” she crows, but it’s more muted when compared to the wildness he once faced off against.
His hand flies to his stomach, and Ekko distantly wonders if he’s about to throw up in front of a girl he’s spent his entire life loving.
Mercifully, his stomach settles, but his heart beats so loudly he can hear the blood rushing in his skull.
“You’re alive,” he repeats, harder this time. “It’s been two years.”
“Yeah.”
She doesn’t offer more than that, but there’s a shadow over her narrow face. She’s healthier. There’s more weight on her bones, her skin has lost some of the pallidness. As if someone took Powder and Jinx, split them clean down the middle, and fused them into one body. Stronger, more self-reassured, less teetering on the brink.
“Would have written but mail is crappy where I was,” she jokes, her voice a familiar, drawling litany. “Besides, this is so much more mysterious—”
He closes the distance between them in two steps. His room isn’t big but he would have walked, ran, sprinted if needed to close the distance between them. His arms wrap around her and Ekko squeezes her so tightly he hears a small breath escape Jinx. She’s solid and warm. Smells faintly of sea and something metallic. Ekko buries his face in the soft crook of Jinx’s neck, gasping for breath.
“Woah, hero, you’re gonna break my ribs,” she whispers, but her arms wind around him, more careful, unsure. “I thought you hated me?”
Even when he releases her, Ekko’s hands linger on her, go to her face, examining her through the crack of light illuminating his room.
“I saw you,” he breathes, devastated. “I saw you everywhere. I hoped to see you everywhere.”
Something flickers over her face, an unknown thing, secretive and distant as she’s always felt to him.
“Geez, seeing things? And they call me crazy.”
“You’re not crazy.”
There’s such vehemence in his voice it startles them both. Jinx nibbles on her inner cheek, searching his face cautiously. “I thought you’d be mad.”
Ekko laughs, a low huff of amusement. “Do you think I care for you so little, huh?”
Too late he realises he’s without a shirt, and is, in fact, mostly bare before the girl he’s harboured a crush on for years. Near boyish shyness forces Ekko back, making him clear his throat. His hands tremble when he reaches for a discarded t-shirt, hoping it doesn’t smell bad when he pulls it over his head. When he glances at her over his shoulder, Jinx is still there, still watching him, though there’s a thoughtful air around her.
When she notices him looking, she offers him a sarcastic grin.
“No need to get shy, stud.”
“Shut up,” he grumbles.
He plops down on his unmade bed, watching her watch him. Her face is half hidden by her arms propped on her bent knee, but the silence between them isn’t awkward. They’re taking each other in, taking in the changes that have touched them both in the last two years.
“Why come back now?” he asks, eventually.
Jinx blinks, near feline-like, dropping her head back to stare at his ceiling as if it may offer an answer. “I’m a crappy friend, but not that crappy. Happy birthday, wonder boy.”
There’s a creak in his heart, a lightness in his ribcage, a balloon of affection despite their troubled history that inflates just for her. “You remember my birthday?”
She makes a sound at the back of her throat. Glances at him from the corner of her eye. “Well, we picked it together, silly, so sure I do.” Shadows fall over her features when she angles her head away. “I… I never thought I would come back—that it was better this way.”
“I’m glad you did.”
Something close to a smile ghosts over her face at his response. Ekko can’t rip his gaze away from her. He fears that if he does, he’ll wake up and she’ll be gone again, and he’ll have to relive the agony of losing her again.
“Does Vi—”
“No. No. And it’s better this way.”
“But—”
“Drop it, Ekko. Please.”
He does. Because this is too good to be true, and he doesn’t want this to end. Emotions mix inside him, battling for dominance, so he sits there, letting them all wash over him.
“You’ve been busy,” she says abruptly, nodding her head in the general direction of the outside world. “Their new wonder boy. I’m not surprised. You’ve always been good at creating things. Good things.”
“And you’ve always been good at fixing them,” he says.
Ekko thinks back on the countless times she helped him to fix up old rubbish others have discarded and sell them in Benzo’s shop as small treasures. It feels, now, like a lifetime ago. In a sense, it has been.
She snorts; it’s an ugly, hateful sound. “Not always.”
There’s weight to how she says it. Pain lingers in each syllable, more so a whispered confession. She’s thinking of others, those lost through accidents or her own direct involvement.
“I’m sorry about Isha,” Ekko says carefully, thumb pressing into the hollow of his bare knee. He itches to take her hand, to smooth his thumb over her knuckles instead, but he doesn’t. She’s never been his to touch. “Vi told me about her.”
Jinx shrinks, turning away and he mentally curses. A sore spot even years later. Understandably so.
“I… shit. Sorry.”
“What’s with the long face?” she exclaims suddenly, jumping to her feet and twirling. Her hands drop to her hips and she grins at him, all mischief. “C’mon, we gotta get out of here.”
Ekko squints. “Uh, what?”
“It’s your birthday, silly,” she says, like it should be obvious. “We’re going to spend the day together.”
.
Jinx keeps her hood up, her gait steady. Any sign of blue tucked away. She’s changed her attire to draw less attention, and as they walk in the hazy dawn light towards the bridge separating the sister cities, it feels almost normal. Casual. Not at all like the last time they spoke, they were about to fight side by side in a battle for their lives. Not at all like he spent two years thinking she’s dead. That still stings, but knowing how she felt back then, the state she was in before he talked her down from the edge, the pain she’s been through, Ekko can’t bring himself to feel resentful. He only wants to hold her and tell her it’ll be okay because she’s not alone.
“You’re not saying, are you?” he asks, hands in his pockets.
“Nope,” she replies, popping the p. “Can’t.”
Words rush to his tongue. Insistence that she can and should stay—that there’s space here for her, not just in his life, but in the new Zaun he’s helping to shape. He almost admits it to her then. That he’s built this for her and the ones they lost along the way.
Ekko continues walking, staring at the ground, noticing too late she’s fallen behind. He peers over his shoulder and freezes when he notices what’s caught her attention. The mural. Welcoming anyone coming into Zaun. Her face, slightly younger but now immortalised, peers back at them.
“You drew this.”
He loosens a breath. “Yeah, I did. I, uh, just…”
Jinx reaches for her own face, fingertips ghosting over the painted wall. There’s tension on her face when she turns to look at him, something piercing and hard and thoughtful. Same pinch to her eyebrows he saw earlier in his bedroom.
“I won’t let them take you,” he says softly. “If they came for you. I would fight for you.”
She doesn’t break their eye contact. “I know. You shouldn’t, but I know you would.”
“Then stay.”
She saunters forward, stopping only when they’re almost chest to chest. “I’m not her, y’know? The other me. The one you love.”
He smiles, huffing a small breath, refocusing on her and her small pout. Ekko reaches forward, tucking a few stray strands back under Jinx’s hood, lingering for a beat. “I wasn’t her Ekko, either. That’s why I came back. I like this version of you just fine. But just so we’re clear, every version of you is a pain in my ass.” He tugs on a small braid, grinning when she shoots him an annoyed glare and slaps his hand away. “But I won’t have it any other way. Wait, no. It sure as hell would be simpler if you didn’t try to kill me anymore, but I guess I’ll deal with that, too.”
Jinx snorts, absently reaching for the spot he touched, her gaze softer than before. “Ha! You hit like a girl, by the way. I never got to tell you.”
“You tried to blow us up.”
“Eh,” she whines. “That was one time. You gotta let that go.”
Ekko exhales a small laugh and realises he hasn’t smiled or laughed this much in years. Joy was leeched from him with her absence, and while he did his duties, there was no security of Jinx’s usual push and pull to keep him balanced and focused. Even when they were enemies, hunted each other down and attacked each other, they existed on opposite sides of a perfectly balanced sphere.
Her nearness, the relief of having her there, overshadows the darker recollection of that afternoon when she tried to blow them up more than once. Memories so painful Ekko wishes to scrub them from his mind forever, yet they remain seared into his psyche.
She grabs his elbow, dragging him forward, breaking the surrounding gloom. “Come on then,. Things to do, things to see.”
And Ekko does what he’s done since they were young. He follows her. Because they might not have tomorrow.
.
The day goes by too fast. Almost a blur. A series of snapshots Ekko will lock away in his mind forever. He never expected he’d get to do this again. This is something his younger self could have only dreamt about once. When they dreamt of simpler things; flashy toys and delicious sweets, things only a young boy could fantasise about, aside from a loving home, because at least that much he had.
They walked and talked and joked around, eating street vendor food all day. Ekko knows they’re pushing their luck, but he can’t help himself. Jinx grew up here. This is her home too, and he wants to show her the progress they’ve made. There’s something comfortable about her snarky commentary and ill-timed jibes at the Council members. She asks about Vi only once, in relation to Cait, and Ekko tells her the truth.
They’re happy. They’re together. She nods, satisfied, and moves on.
“We should go see Jericho next.” It’s an offhand suggestion while they walk the newly paved river path. Now people from the Undercity can enjoy the same luxury of having a peaceful sidewalk to take their kids down. It’s amazing how it’s the small things that bring people happiness.
“Can’t,” Jinx replies, glancing towards the setting sun. Her smile twists; it’s still a smile, but it’s sad, in a way. “Sorry, hero.”
He takes several seconds to speak. “So, you’re leaving anyway.”
“Yes. I told you I can’t stay.”
“It’s a pity, then.”
She tilts her head. “Why?”
Damn her for even asking. Damn her and all the shitty circumstances for keeping them apart. Damn her for picking him during that game of hide and seek years ago. Damn her for being there for him and not being there at the same time. Damn her for being his entire world for years. Even when Ekko thought he hated her, he wasn’t free of her. He never could be. His girl with blue hair.
He’s in love with her, in every possible way, but they both know they can’t work like this. There’s too many ghosts for Jinx here, and despite the changes, Ekko can’t promise her she won’t get dragged off to Stillwater the moment authorities find out she’s alive after all.
Ekko frowns, clenches his fists, and walks away.
But she’s like an anchor to him. He stops several paces away, tied to her. “You’re gonna break my heart.”
They’ve been everything from friends to enemies and strangers to reluctant allies again. So much of his life has revolved around her. Continues to revolve around her. Past and present. But if Jinx sends him away now, if she walks away, Ekko will let her go. Because he can finally rest easy, knowing she is alive and well, even if they’re apart.
“In any other universe, I might have loved you,” she breathes.
He pivots towards her, his nostrils flaring. “Love me in this one,” he insists, reaching for her. Ekko cups her cheeks, tilting her head until her hood slips back down, exposing her blue hair to the setting sun. He’s glad there’s no one in sight because he can’t think straight right now. “Choose me now. Ask me to go away with you. Ask me.”
He presses his forehead to hers. Jinx’s empty gaze appears glazed over, her thoughts far away no matter how hard he tries to grip her and hold her close.
“I don’t deserve you, boy saviour,” she whispers emptily. “You’re good.”
“No one decides for me, Jinx. Not even you.”
She blinks owlishly, searching his wild stare, a pained expression on her face, her fingers knotting against her chest. “What if you don’t want me after a while? I’m… different and if I get bad again... What if—”
“Ask me, damnit.”
Jinx loosens a shaky breath, jumping through a hundred micro-expressions in a few seconds. A painful mix between hope and dread.
“C…” Her eyes squeeze shut. “Come with me.”
Ekko sags in relief. “Yes.” He holds her, wraps his arms around her despite the unsure way she folds against him. As if she’s unsure where to put her hands. If she should. “Yes, I’ll come with you. I don’t care if you’re different. I want you as you are, okay? No matter where we are.”
A tremulous breath wheezes past Jinx’s lips. But with that, she melts into him, burying her face against him. Her embrace grows desperate and tight, a tremble shuddering through her body.
“Always a dance with you, huh?” he says after a moment.
She chuckles, the sound warming his collarbone. “And you still got two left feet, boy wonder.”
Constants and variables, young Ekko, Benzo told him once. Everything bad that can happen in this universe might come to pass, but so might everything good.
----
an: ahh I know this isn't really my usual offering but I really hope you guys enjoyed, it's been a while since i've cared enough about canon/canon ship to do this.
#arcane#ekko x jinx#timebomb#ekkojinx#arcane fic#asks#thank you for asking anon!! just a tiny 'sort of fix-it'
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The sun to me
The Departure. Bonus chapter.
~ this is part of my series The Sun To Me, so if you haven't read it, this scenario might not make sense! if you want to read the series first here's the link to the masterlist!💙
pairing: hyunjin x afab!reader
synopsis: For the frist time in years your feet gather courage to step on the ship, this time with Hyunjin holding your hand.
warnings: mentions of crying and insecurities, very small pinch of angst, multiple sex scenes, oral (f and m), face fucking, unprotected sex, creampies, mentions of throwing up and alcohol, fingering, squirting, mentions of pregnancy
wc: 10.9k
a/n: these events take place after the epilogue. got a bit too long whoopsie! i just love the universe of this series sm🥺
Hyunjin was sleeping peacefully until his body somehow recognized the lack of your warmth next to his, his arms reaching out where your place is, hands in search for your familiar figure.
After some time as he rolled over to your side, his eyes opened and he realized you weren't in bed.
But your warmth and smell lingered, Hyunjin couldn't help it as he leaned into your pillow and took a whiff of your shampoo.
In his sleepy state, he smiled to himself before getting up in search of you.
A faint light was coming from the kitchen so he let it lead him to what he was looking for.
You were staring out the window with a cup in your hand, all wrapped up in Hyunjin's clothes.
"Hey." he said quietly, his voice still raspy from sleep and you turned around to take in the sight of your lover.
You stifled a giggle at his disheveled hair, his cute puffy face, the pout on his lips, his shirt somehow twisted and falling off of his shoulder.
"Hey." you smiled and he made his way to you, his arms wrapping around you as soon as they could, a kiss planted on your forehead.
"Why aren't you in bed, cuddling me?" he whines, leaning on you as he buries his face in your neck, swaying you both a little.
"I couldn't sleep." you chuckle, putting your cup on the windowsill so you can embrace Hyunjin properly.
"Still nervous about tomorrow?" he looks at you and you nod.
"My flower, there's nothing to be scared of." he shakes his head, caressing you gently.
"I know. It's just been so long since I've left the island and this is the only thing I've come to know. Being away from my garden and my shop will be unusual for me."
"Love, we'll only be gone for five days." Hyunjin cups your face and you chuckle.
"Ah, I know I'm being dramatic. I've been hanging out with you too much." you smirk and he giggles.
"And still it's never enough." he whispers as he leans down to kiss you gently. "Why don't you come back to bed?"
"Okay." you nod and let Hyunjin take you to your bed, where he pulls you into his comforting embrace.
You do manage to fall asleep after some time, your dreams still restless, intertwined with excitement of going to the city with Hyunjin by your side.
Even though it's not the first time you're going there, you know with him it'll be a completely different experience, the memories you make there together will replace anything negative both of your minds have conjured up about the city.
"Good morning, lover." you greet Hyunjin as he walks into the kitchen the next morning, looking even more disheveled than he did when he woke up last night.
"Morning, my flower. Did you make pancakes?" he skips towards you and you nod fervently.
"Wow, you made so many! How long have you been up?" he purses his lips, feigning annoyance.
"Just a few hours." you grimace.
"Y/n! You were supposed to get some rest for today." Hyunjin pouts, his arms wrapping around your middle as he holds you from behind, pulling you into his body.
"I'm well rested. I'm just too excited." you giggle when he playfully bites your shoulder, wiggling his eyebrows at you.
"You're adorable, you know that?" he kisses the skin he bit into.
"So you tell me all the time." you chuckle.
"And I'll continue saying it." he smirks.
"Okay, sweet talker, eat your breakfast, we have to leave soon." you add, tapping his hand as he makes a kissy face at you.
After rolling your eyes at him playfully, you plant a kiss on his lips.
As soon as the two of you finish breakfast and clean up, having already packed the day before there was nothing left to do but get ready and leave to the ferry.
Before you go down to the pier, you leave your key to Catherine, who was more than happy to come check on your garden while you were away.
"Have a safe trip, my lovebirds!" she calls behind you as you wave at her and Luna with smiles on your faces.
The ferry was already close when you arrived to the pier, and Hyunjin squeezed your hand as soon as he saw you shiver.
He leans in and kisses your cheek, calming your nerves without any words, cause that was sometimes enough.
Just a light touch of Hyunjin's presence was all you needed to know you're safe.
Stepping on the ship felt like a dream, one you've thought about many times.
Before you met Hyunjin, there were times you felt angry and lonely making you want to pack up and leave everything behind; the garden, the flowers, the shop, the entire island that seemed to bring you nothing but misery back then.
After he came into your life, the island seemed different too, it's as if you were looking at it from his point of view, a pair of fresh eyes that made you realize just how much beauty can be found in simple things; like the rocks on the beach, like the sunlight peeking through trees, like the very flowers that grow from the ground, like the smiling face of a loved one.
When he left without saying anything for the whole summer, you thought about running to him, your legs taking you down to the pier many times but you never set foot on the ship, you only watched people come out and go in.
Sometimes you thought you saw Hyunjin.
It only hurt more.
Your inability to leave the island behind, as you would stand there just watching the ship disappear further away from you, just like it did the day he left.
But the thought of trying to find Hyunjin in the big city only for him to turn away from you was equally as scary as the thought of him never coming back to you.
Thankfully, he came back and stayed.
And now, you were brave enough to venture out of your comfort zone only if he was there, walking by your side.
"Whatcha thinking about?" Hyunjin caresses your hand as the two of you sit down, the ship slowly beginning to move.
Your heart leaps out of your chest for a moment and you take a deep breath in.
"Just how happy I am." you smile at him.
"I'm happy too." he smiles sweetly, leaning in to kiss you gently.
You lean your head on his shoulder as your fingers entwine, palms pressed together.
The wind picks up as the ship catches speed and the loud sounds of the water splashing against the hull coupled with the deep hum of the ship fill up your ears.
Hyunjin brings your hand to his lips and kisses your skin.
You're still scared but you keep reminding yourself that Hyunjin is there with you so nothing can go wrong.
Time passes by as the two of you talk and enjoy the breeze before you decide to take a little walk around the deck.
Thoughts and memories are swirling in your mind, on the day you left the island when you got into university, thinking you're definitely never going to come back to live on the island.
"You okay?" Hyunjin asks as you stare off into the distance.
"Just reminiscing the last time I was leaving the island in this ship."
"And when was that?" he asks, his hand finding yours again as you lean on the railing and look out into the horizon.
"When I got into uni. Gosh, it feels like I was a different person back then. So naive, so giddy to be away from everything that made me who I am. I thought I was going to find myself in the big city, that I was going to run away from the things gnawing at me. I thought I was going to change my life around, have an amazing career, experience love. Have a perfect life. Away from the garden and my mother." you scoff. "I was so stupid."
"You weren't stupid, y/n. You were brave, you got out of your comfort zone and stepped into something completely unknown. You tried it and there is really nothing wrong with trying to find yourself." Hyunjin squeezes your hand.
"But I failed." for some reason your eyes become teary. "I was weak and couldn't take it."
"You didn't fail. You had to go back to the island because of your mother. She was sick and you came back to help her, that just shows how strong you are. Not many people could do that, watch their parent die. It's not something to be taken lightly but you were able to go through that. And look at you now." he smiles, kissing your cheek.
"Actually." you shake your head. "Can I tell you a secret? Well, it's not a secret. It's just embarassing and I never told this to anyone before."
"You can tell me anything, my flower." Hyunjin nods.
"I didn't come back here because of my mother. I came back two months before she fell ill." you swallow as Hyunjin listens intently. "I came back because my heart was broken, because I felt abandoned and I couldn't deal with it. I couldn't deal with the harshness of the city and the people at my university and the person I was dating. So I came back here and that's why I always think I am weak." you admit, a weight lifting off your chest as you take a deep breath in, waiting for Hyunjin to say something.
A single tear slides down your cheek before you turn to look at him and see the fond smile on his face.
"That again doesn't make you weak, my love. You recognized the toxicity of the situation and you left it before it could destroy you completely. You fled to the island just like I did. I didn't think of myself as weak, rather someone who wanted to find and keep their inner peace. That's why we're similar and why I understand what you did. Don't beat yourself up over that, I think it all turned out well now, don't you?" he chuckles, pinching your cheek for a moment and you let out a giggle.
"It did. Sorry I never told you this before."
"You told me now." he shakes his head with a smile before wrapping his arms around you and holding you.
"Hey, it's like Titanic!" Hyunjin exclaims suddenly and you laugh as he grabs your arms and lifts them up.
"I would never let you die in the freezing water." you quickly say as you look back at him.
"I know you wouldn't." he smiles before kissing you gently. "My rose." he adds, wiggling his eyebrows at you and you chuckle, smacking his chest.
Feeling elated, now you can't wait to finally arrive to the city.
-
The moment you step foot onto the city's pier, it's clear how different it is.
There are so many sounds, so many people rushing around you, so many cars in the distance, huge buildings creating a familiar skyline.
"I texted Elsie earlier so she will pick us up." Hyunjin announces as the two of you walk further away from the ship and towards the cars lined up and waiting.
"Okay." you nod.
Elsie was a friend of Hyunjin's who he left his gallery to tend to while he was on the island after the whole ordeal with Charlie.
You didn't know anything about her except that she went to the same academy as Hyunjin and was an artist herself, though she worked as an art critic more than a painter.
"There she is!" Hyunjin's face lights up as he waves and you follow his eyes until they landed on Elsie.
You gasp a little, never knowing just how beautiful she is, tall and slender, her hair long and shiny, her face like a model's, her clothes expensive.
She looked like a million bucks and you suddenly felt a pang of jealousy in your stomach.
Even now after all this time of being with Hyunjin, sometimes you'd wonder what he saw in you, your insecurities getting the best of you and almost convincing you that you're not worth it.
And now seeing this gorgeous woman hug Hyunjin, made you realize you could never compete with someone like her.
"Ah, my favorite artist is back!" Elsie taps Hyunjin's shoulder as he chuckles.
She turns to you as you stand awkwardly on the side, waiting for them to finish hugging.
"You must be y/n." she says, making her way to you and unexpectedly wrapping her arms around you.
"I'm so happy to finally meet you. Put a face to the name. Hyunjin yaps about you all the time, so much so that I couldn't wait to meet the woman who stole his heart." she leans back, smiling at you enthusiastically. "And I understand now. You're really beautiful and coupled with what he told me about you, you're the perfect match."
God, she's even nice.
"Oh." you blush. "Thank you."
"Let's go then, I'll drive you two lovebirds to the gallery." she motions for you to pile your bags into the car, before both of you sit in the back.
Night starts falling over the bustling city, but it's not turning it into contemplative quietness like on the island, quite the opposite actually.
At night time, the city seems even more alive.
As Elsie starts driving, her and Hyunjin fall into conversation, reminiscing of memories you aren't a part of, you opt to stare out the window.
The flurry of lights pass you by, so many cars speeding up next to yours, people on the street acting like it's the middle of the day as they walk around, dressed flashy and probably going to some party as they laugh and hug, some house music pumping through the car's speakers; so many overwhelming things that they hurt your brain and you close your eyes.
Hyunjin notices and grabs your hand.
"We're almost there." he whispers and you nod, looking at him briefly before turning your attention back to the outside world.
You almost get so lost in your thoughts that you don't even notice the car had stopped and Elsie opened your door.
"We're here." she chuckles as you come to your senses and finally get out of the car, seeing Hyunjin taking out your bags.
You stare up at the huge building where Hyunjin's gallery resides in, his apartment now only a few floors above it.
"Well, I'm sure you two want some time alone. But please, hit me up this week, I soooo need to take you both out to dinner and pick your brains." she says before tapping Hyunjin's cheek and waving at you.
You can't help the jealousy that tugs at your heart strings.
You had no idea how close they were and it seemed to you now that they were pretty chummy and he never told you about it.
You'd never doubt Hyunjin's devotion to you, but sadly you always doubt yourself.
"Is something wrong, my love?" Hyunjin asks as you stop in front of the entrance to the building.
"No, everything's fine." you force a smile and Hyunjin squints his eyes at you, not believing it for a moment.
"I'm just tired." you say as Hyunjin swipes his card and the door buzzes.
"Well, the bed in the apartment is very cozy." he smirks at you, wiggling his eyebrows and you let out a little chuckle.
"You wanna go there first or the gallery?" he adds as you walk into the elevator.
"I really wanna see the gallery." you smile and he nods, clicking the button as the elevator doors close.
You're quiet, trying to come up with a way to ask Hyunjin about Elsie but you're not even sure what you are trying to find out.
"Here we go." Hyunjin leads you to a big glass door before he puts in a combination and you hear a click, signalling that the door is unlocked.
As soon as you walk in and Hyunjin turns the lights on, a gasp leaves your lips.
Yes, you've seen some pictures of the gallery but actually being inside it, seeing Hyunjin's works of art hung all over the walls, hours of his hard work on display for people to admire, his heart on the canvas in shapes of flowers and you, filled you up with warmth and love.
"So, what do you think?" he asks, wrapping his arms around you, his lips on your neck.
"It's beautiful, Jinnie."
"Mhm, I like it even better now that you're here, flower. You're the most beautiful work of art amongst all of them. But only for me to look at." Hyunjin smirks into your skin before nipping at your sensitive spot.
Before you can melt into his embrace completely, you need to get one thing out of the way; Elsie.
"So, how close are you and Elsie?" you slide out of Hyunjin's arms and pretend to look at one of the paintings more closely.
He smirks behind you, knowing exactly why you're asking that.
"Is my sweet rose jealous?" he almost skips towards you with a goofy smile on his face and you can't even pretend to be mad at him.
"No." he narrows his eyes at you. "Yes." you sigh.
"Oh, y/n." Hyunjin chuckles before grabbing your face. "You do know that you're the only woman that exists to me? Elsie is like a sister to me. We're close like that, nothing else. She also has an amazing husband who she's been dating for years, and we're probably going to meet them for a double date at least once this week. You've nothing to be jealous about, I'm only yours." he talks, leaving gentle kisses on your face.
A sigh escapes your lips.
"I know, I'm not doubting you. I just get insecure. I'm sorry I'm like this, always ruining everything." your eyes water.
"You didn't ruin anything, my love." Hyunjin smiles gently at you before leaning in to kiss you again. "You could never. You can only make everything more beautiful." he says between kisses and you slowly start melting.
"You're so biased." you chuckle against him.
"So be it." he whispers before devouring your lips, his hands gripping your waist and pressing your body against his.
"Baby, are there cameras here?" you chuckle when he starts kissing your neck, your fingers tangled in his hair, playing with the ends of it.
"Yeah." he licks at your skin before sinking his teeth in.
"J-Jinnie, someone will see." you gasp, gripping onto him as he sucks a love bite into your skin.
"No, they won't, I already made sure they turned them off for the night." he smirks before leaving kisses on your collarbone.
"So, you planned to seduce me in here?" you chuckle as he presses you into the wall, right next to a painting of you.
"Damn, you caught me." he jokes and both of you chuckle.
"In all seriousness, you know I love you forever, right?" his eyes become big, sweet, full of emotion as they search yours.
"I know, Jinnie. I love you forever too." you smile and kiss him, the sweet and innocent kiss escalating slowly into a more passionate one, tongues clashing into each other as Hyunjin leads you to the couch in the middle of the gallery.
It looks expensive and has two sides, one turned towards the art pieces and one looking towards the city, the huge glass windows with all the buildings on display, the lights in the distance twinkling like stars, promising something good to whoever stares at them for long enough.
You think he's gonna lay you down on it but instead he makes you stand in front of it, the side overlooking the city, before he slowly kneels down.
"My muse." his hands roam on your thighs, sliding under your dress before he bunches it up above your panties.
Your breath gets caught in your throat as Hyunjin leans in, kissing your clothed clit and taking a deep breath of you in, his eyes fluttering shut, cheeks rosy instantly.
He grips your leg and hooks it on his shoulder before leaning in again, and your pussy clenches around nothing as his breath hits your warmness.
You grab onto his hair for leverage and he whines into you, pushing your panties to the side and burying his tongue inside you.
He laps you up, always hungry for more, never tired of tasting your sweet juices on his tongue as he holds you steady, gripping your ass as you shiver and grind gently against him.
"H-Hyunjin!" you whimper when he sucks on your clit before diving back between your folds, pushing as deep as he could, his tongue moving inside you wildly.
You look up from his flushed face and dark eyes to see the city before you, feeling like every single soul that was awake could see you now, see how you were falling apart just from your lover's tongue and it made you even more wet thinking about it.
Gripping his hair harder, you fuck yourself against his lips and nose and Hyunjin whines into you, letting you use him for your pleasure as your high pitched moans echo off the walls of the gallery.
You throw your head back, gasping when you notice the huge mural painted on the ceiling, you and Hyunjin together in a garden full of blooming flowers, making love to each other, the petals hiding your private parts.
"Fuck!" you whimper, grinding against him faster before the coil snaps and you explode all over his face.
"Mm." Hyunjin moans into you, licking your juices up as he smirks.
"I take it you like my main piece." he leans back with a satisfied smile, his tongue darting out to lick at the droplets of your pleasure all around his lips.
"I- I'm speechless." you gasp, your ears ringing as you come down from your high, still looking up at the ceiling.
Hyunjin stands up and grabs your chin gently making you look down at him.
"Me too." he kisses you hungrily and soon both of you stumble but Hyunjin catches you as he smirks and grabs your hands.
"What are you doing?" you chuckle confusedly as he takes you over to the other side of the couch, the one turned towards the paintings.
"I want you to have a pretty view of the city." he says and before you can ask what he means, he pushes you down onto your knees, bending you over the backrest and making you look towards the huge glass windows.
"Oh." you whimper when his fingers slide against your wet folds, his other hand freeing his length out of his pants before he replaces fingers with his cock.
"My lovely muse." he whines as he pushes in and you grip onto the backrest, gasping as he slides in easily. "My only rose. I love you so much." he pushes his entire length into you, taking your breath away.
"I love you so much, Jinnie." you moan as he hovers over you, fucking you slowly.
Your eyes roll back, fluttering shut as the familiar stretch of him burns a little, giving way to pleasure as he keeps dragging his cock against your velvety walls faster, making you wetter by the second.
His hands roam freely on your body, wrapping around you to cup your breasts and you arch your back, chasing his touch.
Hyunjin groans when he sees you like that, his hips pounding into you faster as you kneel and take it.
"You're clenching so much around me, my flower. Let go for me." he fucks you harder as you keep whimpering, your eyes opening to stare out the window, all the lights becoming blurry as pleasure starts overtaking you.
"Ah, J-Jinnie!" you moan loudly as you let go, cumming around his cock and he grips onto you, his hips snapping against you while you count all the stars, your body shaking under him.
"Y/n!" he moans you name out as he spills inside you, riding his high and filling you up with his warm liquid.
Hyunjin pulls out of you, collapsing onto the couch and pulling you against his body as he wraps his arms around you.
Your breathing is heavy as you hold onto him, nuzzling as close as you can and you look up at the ceiling again as he giggles.
"When did you paint that?" you ask.
"The first time I had to leave after we opened up our gallery in Isaac's house." he answers and you look at him.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I wanted to surprise you when you come here. I'm glad I never told you to look up. You did it just in the right moment." he teases with a smirk and you giggle, biting into his arm and making him yelp before he laughs at you adoringly.
"Why don't we go upstairs and wash up? Are you hungry?" he asks.
"A little bit." you nod as you sit up.
"We can order, I don't really have groceries here." Hyunjin chuckles and you nod, kissing him shortly before you get up and make your way up to the apartment.
It's a small one bedroom apartment, enough for when Hyunjin comes here alone to promote his new work or the works of a fellow artist who he represents.
You can see it's not too lived in but there is a touch of Hyunjin to it, as well as a touch of you.
Noticing photographs of the two of you together framed on the shelf makes your heart warm up as you smile.
"I look at them when I miss you." he pouts, giving you a quick peck.
"You're cute." you giggle.
"I know." he scrunches up his face and you laugh.
You leave for the bathroom first, stripping before you step into the shower, adjusting the water while Hyunjin orders some food.
He joins in shortly, throwing his clothes haphazardly on the floor just so he can jump in as quickly as possible.
You squeak when his cold hands grip onto you and he chuckles.
"Sorry, baby." he says, still he presses himself into your warmed up body.
"Cold." you gasp a little as he buries his face into your neck.
"You know, I read that transferring body heat helps warm you up quicker so I have to stick to you like this. You don't want me to die from the cold, right?"
"You will not die." you roll your eyes playfully, still your arms wrap around him to keep him close to you.
The shower turns more into a fun time than a regular shower as you wash each other's hair and sing a duet, your giggles echoing in the small space.
After getting dry and warmed up, the food arrives and you eat in Hyunjin's living room, again the view feels huge as you scan the buildings.
"Would you ever wanna live here again?" you ask as the two of you eat, sitting close to each other.
"My honest answer? No. I love being on the island with you, it feels more like a home than any other place I lived in. I got used to the limited space there, like here everything seems so big and so wide, like you can go anywhere and do anything. When in reality it is not like that. The island might be small, but every single part of it is beautiful and filled with memories. I wouldn't trade that for anything." Hyunjin smiles wistfully.
"But, if you want to move here I would for you." he adds, his hand on your knee as he caresses you gently.
"That's sweet, Jinnie but I think the city is too much for me. I don't mind visiting, but I love being on the island. It's comforting and familiar, and I love having you there." you smile.
"Mhm then you wanna keep me there forever, right?" he leans in closer as you finish eating.
"Yes." you chuckle.
"I don't mind being your prisoner forever." he shakes his head with a cute smile and you laugh, carding your hand through his hair as he plops his face into your chest.
"Is that how you feel? Imprisoned?" you tease and he whines into you.
"That is not what I meant! I was trying to be romantic like you stole my heart forever and now I can't go anywhere-"
"Okay, okay, I get it, I was just teasing you a bit." you smirk, making him whine again as he nuzzles his face between your breasts.
"Cuddle me." he pushes his body closer to yours and you wrap your arms around him, merging your bodies together in the warmness of the small apartment.
You go to bed shortly, excited to explore the city, experience something new with the one you love; the jitters making you shiver in anticipation for tomorrow.
But for now, you relish in the sweet and familiar feeling of tangling up with Hyunjin under the sheets as he holds you close to his loving heart.
As you open your eyes the next morning, you panicked for a second, not recognizing your surroundings until you remembered that you came to the city with Hyunjin, and are now laying on his chest safely.
Taking a deep breath in, you look up at him and instantly melt when you see his messy hair and cute sleepy face as he still dreams about who knows what.
You bury your face in his neck, kissing his soft skin gently, getting yourself worked up just from his warmth and his familiar comforting scent.
He doesn't wake up immediately, not until you bite into his skin, sucking on it and creating a pretty mark on your lover.
"Mm... Darling." he groans, his voice deep and laced with sleep.
You continue kissing him, thankful that he slept shirtless as your lips traveled down to his collarbone and chest.
"What are you up to?" he chuckles as you keep kissing lower, a tent appearing in his boxers as his cock strains against the material.
"Nothing." you wink, your lips now closer to his middle.
"Really?" he tries to sit up but you lift up quickly, grabbing his wrists and he lets you pin his hands on either sides of his head.
You throw your leg over him, pressing your core against his hardness and he gasps quietly, his hips lifting up towards you already.
"You said that you're my prisoner." you say and he smirks, letting out a little giggle.
"I am." he nods.
"Then just stay like that and let me do what I want with you."
"Of course, my flower." he smiles as you lean down to kiss him before returning back to your original position.
You lay your hand on his bulge and squeeze slightly before you start palming him.
"Mm, y/n. My love." he whines, pushing up into you and you smirk, leaning in to kiss him through his boxers, noticing a little wet patch appearing on them.
Your fingers circle his head and he whimpers, almost begging you to remove the obnoxious fabric as he grips onto the sheets below him.
You give him a little smirk before you bite into his inner thigh, making him jolt and moan, his cock twitching under your hand.
Deciding you were done teasing him for now, you hook your fingers in his boxers and slide them off, his leaky cock slapping his abs as you free him.
Hyunjin's eyes become darker as you lick at his tip, lapping up the pre-cum before you give him a little kiss. He observes you as you start leaving kisses on his cock, teasing him with the gentleness of your lips, pressing them into his vein, your tongue darting out to lick at his length a few times, all the way down to his balls.
"Trying to kill me?" he pants and you giggle before lifting up.
"A little." you smile before leaning in towards his tip again, swirling your tongue around him as you take him into your mouth, sucking lightly.
"F-flower, ah!" Hyunjin's fingers tangle in your hair as you tease him, the tip of your tongue playing with his sensitive underside and dipping into his slit.
His patience starts to run low, he's more desperate and sensitive than usually in the morning, and he wanted to feel you wrapped around him.
His fingers gripped your hair harder, quiet moans escaping his lips and you let him push you down a little as you took more of him in.
Gripping his thighs, you started to bob your head up and down, your eyes fluttering closed as you savored the taste of him.
Hyunjin shivers, keeping his eyes on you, your pretty lips wrapped around him, taking him in so well, always so sweet and so giving for him.
"Fuck!" he groans when you squeeze his balls, looking up at him sweetly as you continue your ministrations, taking more of his length in until his tip hit the back of your throat, making you gag a little.
"Be careful, flower." he smirks a little, teasing you, he knows you love when he fills you up like that.
You hum around him, sending vibrations through his core and making him twitch as you keep sucking on him like your life depended on it.
The more you sped up, twisting your tongue at the top, massaging his balls in tandem with your mouth, the more desperate he became.
His legs started shaking, he was a babbling mess as he started fucking up into you, meeting your movements while you gagged on his length.
"C-close!" he whimpers and you speed up, determined to make him explode in your mouth.
He repeats your name like a prayer, louder and louder until he finally twitches inside you, spurts of his warm cum painting your throat as you keep swallowing everything he gives you.
"Wow." he gasps as you lift up, making you chuckle.
"Was it good?" you tease and he laughs breathlessly.
"Perfect." he says, his hands gripping at your hips as he brings you closer to him.
"We should get up." you warn and he lets out an incredulous laugh, throwing his head back, his hair splayed cutely around his head on the pillow.
"You think I'm gonna let you get up without returning the favor?"
"Oh, that." you giggle.
"Yeah, that." he pinches your ass, making you jolt and squeal before he hooks his fingers in your panties so you lift up a little, helping him take them off.
"Aren't you and Elsie meeting with some clients?"
"They can all wait. My beautiful girlfriend needs me." he smirks, his fingers sliding against your wet folds.
"H-Hyunjin." you moan.
"Come up here." he motions towards his face and you blush profusely.
You've always been a little embarassed about sitting on his face, feeling awkward to do so but Hyunjin assured you every time that he loved it.
"Are you sure?" you ask.
"Positive." he smiles as he holds your hand, bringing your palm to his lips.
"Okay." you whisper, scooting closer to his face before you hover over him.
"Relax, my love." his arms slide around you, gripping your ass and slowly pulling you down closer to his face.
You close your eyes, grabbing at the headboard as his tongue swipes over your folds a few times making you clench around nothing.
His lips wrap around your clit and he sucks, making your legs shake and squeeze around him.
Hyunjin moans into you, flattening his tongue and slowly moving you against it as he grips onto you.
Your mind becomes dizzy quickly and you start moving on your own, grinding against his tongue and nose languidly as more arousal keeps dripping down onto Hyunjin's face.
His eyes flutter closed and all the embarassment you feel keeps being replaced with the growing pleasure inside you as you keep fucking his face.
His hands massage your ass as he keeps moving you against him, so you move faster as you keep holding onto the headboard for dear life.
Your moans become louder and louder as Hyunjin pushes his tongue into you and starts moving it, tasting you and playing with you, swallowing all your wetness.
"J-Jinnie!" you whimper loudly, your thighs pressing around his head as you snap, spilling all over his lips and face.
His nails dig into your flesh as he holds you down, lapping your juices up and your body trembles from overstimulation as you try to move away.
Hyunjin doesn't let up until he cleans you up, his face flushed and wet when you move away.
"Sorry, w-was that okay?" you feel the embarassment seep in again as he looks at you wildly.
"Baby, I don't think we're leaving the bed yet." he smirks and before you can protest he's already grabbing your waist and pulling you down as you squeal.
Hyunjin has been sitting in the meeting room for almost an hour, constantly glancing at the clock, his mind only on returning to you.
He had promised to take you out on lunch but the people participating in the event had so many ideas to discuss that the meeting just kept dragging on.
His leg kept bouncing up and down as he bit on his lip and nodded at the man sitting before him.
"You're creating an earthquake, Hyun." Elsie leans into Hyunjin's ear.
"Oh. Sorry." he chuckles quietly.
"I know you wanna go back to your darling as soon as possible so try to concentrate now and we'll be done sooner." she reminds him and Hyunjin nods, quickly getting himself together, getting back into the groove of the discussion.
As Elsie predicted, the meeting ended succesfully and quickly after that, the event was all but ready minus a few minor details.
After they saw the clients out, Hyunjin turned to Elsie with his eyes big, his hands clasped together in a pleading position.
"Oh I know that face. What is it now?" Elsie chuckles, knowing he's about to beg her for help.
"I need you to do something for me and y/n can't find out. Will you please?"
"As long as it's legal, of course. Eh, who am I kidding, I'd probably help you hide a body if it came to that." Elsie jokes and Hyunjin laughs.
"Thank you, you're a life saver!"
-
"I'm sorry I'm late!" Hyunjin runs into the apartment, finding you in the living room, reading your book.
"Oh, no it's okay. I was entertained." you smile, waving your book shortly and Hyunjin chuckles breathlessly before skipping towards you and leaning down to press a few sweet kisses to your lips.
"Are you hungry?" he asks and you nod.
"Yes, I'm ready to eat."
"Okay, well there is this restaurant here that I used to go to a lot and the food is amazing so I wanna take you there." he says excitedly.
"Should I dress fancy?" you get up and Hyunjin chuckles, his arms wrapping around your waist as he brings you closer to him.
"It's not too fancy." he answers, kissing your jaw.
"Alright, casual fancy." both of you chuckle as you leave to get ready.
Hyunjin paces the living room while he waits, thinking of his request for Elsie.
A wave of excitement and fear runs through his body, giving him happy jitters.
You walk out of the bedroom after some time and Hyunjin's eyes soften as soon as they land on you.
"You look beautiful."
"Thanks, lover. You too." you smile as he leans in to kiss you.
Hyunjin takes his camera, ready to capture the beautiful memories the two of you are about to create in the city.
Your afternoon is filled with new sights, completely different than your little island, where you know every nook and cranny, every piece of earth your feet have touched, every detail of it so dear to your heart and so deeply etched into your mind that you could walk it blind.
It's exciting, the restaurant, the huge buildings, the flashing lights, the people, the city never sleeps, it's the same during the day and the night.
Hyunjin snaps so many pictures that you've lost count of them, his cute happy face making your heart beat faster.
But the excitement slowly starts turning into exhaustion as you keep venturing further into the heart of the city.
Hyunjin, always so perceptive when it comes to you, notices your sudden quietness so he takes your hand and slowly leads you away from the crowd to a park near by.
You find a somewhat quiet bench, some guy playing the guitar and singing not too far away, creating a romantic atmosphere as the two of you sit down.
The sun is already almost gone behind the horizon as your eyes roam around the sky, the beautiful swirls of purple and pink giving way to the darkness slowly creeping in.
Hyunjin wraps his arm around your shoulder, bringing you into him.
"Are you having fun?" he asks with a smile.
"Mhm. I am."
"Love, you can tell me if you're not. I'll call a cab to take us to the apartment immediately."
"No, no, I'm enjoying being outside. It's just that we saw so much today so I'm processing it." you chuckle and Hyunjin giggles.
"Sorry for dragging you everywhere." he smiles sheepishly and you lean in to kiss his cute dimple.
"It's fine. You're so cute when you get excited. And it's only fair that you show me everything as the designated tour guide." you tease.
Hyunjin laughs, briefly reminiscing how you were the tour guide on the island, showing him all the places you found beautiful.
"Let me take you to one last place and then we're done, I promise."
"Lead the way." you smile and after a 20 minute walk, Hyunjin and you arrive in front of a huge building.
"What is it?" you ask.
"You'll see." he leads you behind the building, holding your hand as you walk together.
The back of the building is almost all glass but what captures your attention the most is an exhibit of different art installations.
You lean in to look closer as Hyunjin stands next to you.
"This is the academy I attended." he starts and you look at him.
"Oh." you gasp.
"This is where I spent so much time being scrutinized for every little detail in my art. In a way I'm thankful cause I learned so much. But I often asked myself what was the purpose and at what cost? It almost crushed my soul, and all for that-" he motions towards a painting on the wall, one of a face you don't recognize, "to be on display for everyone."
You may not recognize the face but you recognize Hyunjin's brush strokes.
"I hate that painting." he says quietly.
"Who is that?" you ask.
"Nobody. I made him up in my mind. He's just a no one." Hyunjin's shoulders tense and you're quick to put your hand on his back, gently caressing him to soothe him.
It works instantly as he melts into your touch.
"I-I'm sorry. I don't wanna ruin the mood, I just wanted to show you where I spent lots of time. I sat there a lot." he turns to point at one of the outdoor tables. "Would doodle in my little sketchbook. I made the dumbest drawings in those, just to have some kind of outlet where I could feel like I was in charge, not just doing something that someone else told me to."
"So it was like a diary. Like mine." you remember showing him your sketchbooks when you just met. "You never showed me those."
"My mother found them and she threw them away." he sighs sadly and you lean on him.
"I'm sorry." you whisper.
"It's okay, it's in the past plus I can paint whatever I want now." he smiles and leans in to kiss you gently.
Sharing a kiss with you right in front of the academy feels surreal to Hyunjin, especially when he looks back at it with a pinch of bitterness, remembering the sleepless nights and his mother's sinister words.
"I'm glad we did this." Hyunjin squeezes your hand as you sit in the back of the cab.
"Me too. You gave me a new perspective on the city."
"Yeah, I think we created some nice memories here. It feels better." he agrees.
"Definitely does." you nod.
The next day, Hyunjin took you to another restaurant which was a bit more fancy, something you've never experienced before, making you feel a bit awkward.
Elsie and her husband Peter were already waiting at one of the tables, Elsie waving enthusiastically as soon as she spotted the two of you.
She hugged both of you and after shaking Peter's hand, you sat down and took in the view.
The restaurant was in a building, high up and looking over the city, making all the buildings, cars and people look like Lego pieces from up here.
Most of the food you couldn't even pronounce but Hyunjin was there to recommend you something tasty.
You thought it was going to be an awkward evening, but Elsie and Peter were both nice and you could see how Hyunjin was relaxed with them, having known them for years.
The conversation was light and fun, the food delicious and the wine was wonderful, creating a nice atmosphere around your little table.
Later in the evening, Elsie leaned in closer to you while Hyunjin and Peter conversed.
"I'm so glad Hyunjin decided to take a break on the island." she says.
"That makes two of us." you smile at her.
"He was different before he met you. Well, before he fell in love with you. I really thought he'd never find himself again, I was scared for him. He's really like the brother I never had and seeing him this happy with you makes me so excited for the two of you." your eyes almost tear up at her sincerity.
"Oh thank you, that's really nice of you, Elsie."
"Are y'all talking about me?" Hyunjin smirks.
"Always." you smirk back at him as he rolls his eyes playfully.
Falling back into the conversation, Elsie and Hyunjin start reminiscing their academy days, and hearing how he would sneak out to party just to spite his mother, things he did and said then was like a new side of him you've never known.
He told you a bit about it all before, but Elsie was determined to embarass him, at least a little.
"Remember that time you got so drunk and I had to drive you home? You puked all over my car." she laughs.
"It's not funny." Hyunjin blushes immediately, glancing at you shortly.
"It totally was. You were speaking nonsense. Ah, those parties were crazy. Remember that time we played truth or dare?"
"I do. Sadly." Hyunjin grimaces as you lean in curiously.
"It was nothing but we kissed." Elsie says and even though she already said she sees him like a brother, you felt a little weird that he never mentioned that.
"Ew. It was like I was kissing my sister." Hyunjin makes a disgusted face and she laughs.
"Would not do that again." she chuckles, before looking back at you. "I hope that didn't bother you."
"No, no, it was in the past." you say, a small smile on your face, but Elsie could see it was forced.
"Oh for god's sake!" she grabs your face and your eyes widen, before you can even say something she presses her lips into yours, kissing you shortly before leaning back, leaving you shocked.
"There. I kissed you both, now it's even." her husband laughs, shaking his head as Hyunjin rolls his eyes with a smile, his arm wrapping around you.
"Please, never do that again." he narrows his eyes at Elsie as she lifts her hands up in surrender.
"Thought it'd be fun. Sorry if it was too much, y/n."
"It's- it's fine." you chuckle quietly, feeling a bit embarassed about the whole situation.
The rest of the evening is uneventful and as soon as you arrive to the apartment, Hyunjin's hands and lips are on you.
"I can't believe she kissed you." he chuckles, his lips on your cheeks, his hands roaming on your hips and waist.
"She's a bit... extroverted?" you grimace, making Hyunjin laugh.
"You can say crazy. Cause she is. This is nothing compared to what she usually does, I think she was trying not to make you feel awkward. Which I appreciate, but I still didn't like that she kissed you. Your lips are mine only." Hyunjin cups your face, kissing you before you could even respond.
And he keeps kissing you as he slowly leads you to the bed, both of you falling down on it and never breaking the kiss.
Even though his exhibit was tomorrow, neither Hyunjin nor you got too much sleep, instead your time was spent in each other's embrace, your bodies moving lovingly into one another.
-
You're sleeping on your stomach when you feel Hyunjin's breath on your neck.
His hand lands on your waist, caressing you gently as his lips start traveling down your spine.
You flutter your eyes slowly before opening them and looking out the window.
From your position, you're looking right at the blue sunny sky, a few clouds floating by.
It's quiet and peaceful as Hyunjin keeps showering you with gentle kisses, his lips on your back, your shoulder, your neck and your arm.
He peeks at you and you giggle, making him giggle too before he brings his middle closer to you and you feel his hardness press against you.
"Again?" you chuckle in amusement, after last night's multiple rounds you had no idea how he still wanted you.
"What else do you expect, my flower? When you're so beautiful and loving, I need you close to me always." he caresses your hair, his lips on your neck as he slowly grinds into your backside.
"J-Jinnie. My love." you whimper when his cock slips between your thighs, grinding against your wet pussy.
"Stay like that." he grabs his cock and pushes into you easily, making you moan as you arch your back a little.
"I love you so much." he whispers into your ear as his arms wrap around you, his hips moving into you.
"I love you so much, Jinnie." you echo, grabbing his hand and entwining your fingers with his.
Hyunjin groans lowly into your ear, getting you more wet as his cock slips in and out of you, not giving you his entire length in this position but it's still a nice, satisfying stretch.
His hand releases yours to cup your breast and play with your nipple as you whimper, gripping at the bed while he moves a bit faster.
"You're mine forever, my love." Hyunjin holds you closer still, his hand traveling down over your stomach to your clit as he starts playing with it.
"Only yours." you moan out, your high building up.
Pictures start appearing in Hyunjin's mind, the two of you like this, always and forever, and his thoughts start racing, suddenly imagining something he never really let himself think about before.
His face and ears feel hot, followed by his body burning up and the wave of hotness rushes down into his already hard cock.
His heart starts beating fast as he imagines you carrying his child, the two of you bound together forever, creating something purely out of love.
"Fuck!" he curses, unexpectedly cumming before you as you gasp at the feeling of him filling you up.
"I'm sorry." he squeezes your thigh and you turn around to look at him, seeing his face is completely red, his forehead sweaty and his eyebrows twisted like he's struggling.
"Are you okay?" you reach out to touch his cheek and he melts into you.
"Yeah. Let me finish what I started." he chuckles sheepishly and you giggle as his fingers slide on your folds, gathering his cum and pushing it back in.
Your eyes flutter as you look at him and he wonders if you ever thought about that but for some reason he feels too shy to ask, scared to break the moment as he brings you closer to your edge.
"H-Hyunjin, so good." you whimper.
"Feels good, love?" he smirks, fucking into your sweet spot, making you feel like you're floating.
"Mhm, harder please." you grip onto him and he obliges, fucking into you harder until you squirt all over his hand.
The way he looks at you after, his lips opening and closing a few times makes you chuckle, your head tilting in curiosity.
"What is it, lover?" you sit up, carding your fingers through his hair.
"Nothing. I just love you more than anything." he smiles, making you melt on the spot.
"I love you more than anything too."
-
Despite your protests, Hyunjin takes you shopping after breakfast.
You kept telling him you didn't need anything, that you had everything you wanted and more but he kept reassuring you that it would be fun to walk around the shops and try on clothes, buy some new painting supples while you're at it.
And he was right, it was fun.
Hyunjin decided to find the silliest outfits and make a fool out of himself just to make you laugh.
He also brought you a few dresses to try on, lifting up a pair of lacy underwear too.
"Put that back." you smack his arm as people passed by you, your face becoming red.
"For the record, I think you'd look amazing in it." he smiles cheekily.
"Oh, would I?" you smirk.
"Definitely." he ushers you towards the changing rooms and of course follows you in.
"What are you doing?" you chuckle, putting the dresses aside.
"Helping you out." he smiles behind you, feigning innocence as you look at his reflection in the mirror.
"Mhm. Right. Go wait outside." you say and he pouts.
"I thought you loved me." he teases, sighing dramatically.
"Hyunjin." you narrow your eyes at him, not wanting to be thrown out of a fancy shop because the two of you couldn't keep your hands to yourselves.
"Fineeee." he whines, walking out so you can change.
"What about this one?" you walk out after trying on the last dress.
"It's perfect." he says, a lovesick smile on his face.
"You said that about every single one of them." you laugh.
"Well, because you're wearing them! We'll get all of them." he says and you quickly protest.
"No, please don't spend so much on me."
"Who else would I spend it on?" he says softly, caressing your face as he stands in front of you.
"But-"
"Please, let me do this. I wanna spoil you a little since we're here. It really makes me happy to do that."
"Okay." you give in as he looks at you with puppy eyes and pouty lips.
You kiss him before changing back into your clothes, then making your way to the cash register.
After paying for the dresses you make your way out, the amount of money makes your head spin but Hyunjin really seemed happy to do that, and it made you curious as to why he was so adamant about showering you with gifts when the both of you were into more simpler things, like cooking dinner together or a walk on the sunny beach.
After Hyunjin splurged on new painting supplies, you sat down in a cute café, ordering some cakes and coffee.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" Hyunjin chuckles.
"Oh. I was just curious as to why you wanted to buy all those dresses for me. You know I'm happy when you're just next to me. That's the greatest gift to me, Jinnie."
"I know." he softens, taking your hand in his. "It's just what I always imagined when we come to the city. Taking you out shopping, it just goes well with the vibe here and it's not something we can do on the island. It's okay really, I don't care about the price, I'm just glad you found something you like." he adds the last part as you chew on your lip, not used to getting those kinds of gifts.
"Thank you, Jinnie."
"You don't have to thank me." he smiles, kissing your hand.
The door chimes, signaling a new customer coming in and as Hyunjin glances towards the door, you see his face contort.
His eyes widen, his lips pressing together before he frowns.
You look towards the door, staring at the couple who came in until realization dawns on you.
"Shit." Hyunjin curses under his breath, looking down at the table, boring holes into his half eaten pastry.
"Is that-"
"It is. I should've known. They used to bring me here a lot when I was younger." he says quietly, praying to whatever that they don't look this way but life usually does the exact opposite.
"They saw us." you say and Hyunjin's hand immediately flies to touch you, fingers squeezing around yours.
"Are they coming here?" he asks, his voice small and insecure.
You see his mother stare at him, her face that of a shock before going back to the cold expression she wore before. His father seemed to want to come closer but you could see how she held him back.
Her eyes then traveled to you and you mustered up the most murderous stare you could, throwing daggers at her with your eyes and she looked away, lifting her chin up like it was none of her business.
"They're... not." you squeeze Hyunjin's hand and he scoffs.
"Please, let's leave." his voice breaks along with your heart as you watch his eyes fill with tears.
"Of course." you quickly stand up, gathering your shopping bags, thankful you already paid as the two of you made your way to the exit as fast as possible.
Hyunjin is quiet the whole ride to the apartment, you can see him swallowing tears as he avoids looking at you.
You reach out to touch his hand and he moves it away.
"Don't." he whispers, shaking his head. "If you touch me, I'll fall apart." he adds quietly and you nod in understanding.
So as soon as you arrive back to the apartment, Hyunjin throws himself into your embrace, crying into your chest as you hold him and caress him.
"They really threw me aside. Even my father. Like I never meant anything to them." he sobs.
"I'm sorry, my love, I really am." your own eyes tear up as he squeezes you.
"It's not your fault."
"I hope you know you are loveable and I'd never leave you." you say as he looks up at you sadly.
You reach out to wipe his tears away and he smiles a little.
"I don't know what I'd do without you. Thank you for loving me." he holds you even tighter.
"Thank you for letting me love you, Jinnie."
"Someday... I hope we can have a family of our own." he looks at you hopefully and your face becomes hot instantly, butterflies swirling in your stomach as your heart skips a beat.
"I would love that." you whisper, caressing his hair and Hyunjin melts further into your embrace.
The afternoon is spent in each other's arms, soft kisses and touches slowly healing the damaged soul.
The promises that leave your lips are ones you intend to fulfill.
The last evening in the city is wrapped up with Hyunjin's collaboration with two other artists, their works displayed together on the walls of his gallery as people congratulate him.
He looks unreal in his suit, his hair neatly pulled back, his jewelry shiny.
You could hardly believe this was the same man who just cried in your embrace like a wounded child, yet here he was proudly showing off the beauty his heart held and captured on the canvas.
You couldn't be more proud of him, giddy with excitement as the evening progressed into a little celebratory party.
People stayed later than they should've perhaps, leaving one by one as the hours passed by until there was no one left but you and your beloved.
"Whew. That went well." Hyunjin stands by your side, wrapping his arm around your waist.
"I'm so proud of you." you tell him, making his heart swell with happiness and love.
"Feels good when you say that." he leans in, nuzzling against you. "Let's go upstairs, I wanna make love to you."
You giggle and let him lead the way, his hands impatient even in the elevator.
You kiss upon entering the apartment, bumping into furniture and throwing your clothes on the way to the bed.
Hyunjin lays you down gently, taking his time to touch you slowly, his pretty hands running all over your soft skin, squeezing occasionally as he looks at you like he's just seen you for the first time, like he's falling in love with you all over again.
Your cheeks become rosy as you lift your hands up to reciprocate, exploring his skin and muscles.
Hyunjin leans in to kiss you, worshipping your body with his lips until you're squirming for more, needy to have him closer to you, as close as possible.
Your legs wrap around him and he smirks before kissing you, the tip of his cock prodding at you.
"Hyun- please." you whisper against his lips and he grabs his length, slowly sinking into the familiar warmth of you.
"Y/n." he moans your name when you clench around him.
He starts dragging his cock slowly inside you, his eyes becoming teary.
"Are you okay?" you ask cautiously, gently taking his face in your hands.
"Never been happier. I need- I want- ugh." he buries his face in your neck and you almost chuckle at his sudden bashful behavior.
"Tell me what you want, lover." you coo at him.
"I want you to have my baby." Hyunjin says gently as he fucks deep into you and you gasp, clenching at his words.
"Please. I wanna have your baby, Hyunjin." you whimper, becoming incredibly wet at the thought.
"Ah, my flower." his cock twitches, his eyes suddenly squeezed shut as he grips at you.
"Gonna fill you up good, make you all full and round for me." he groans, pressing his forehead against yours, as his tip keeps kissing your cervix.
"P-please Hyunjin!" you go crazy at the thought of that, having a connection so deep with someone you love more than anything, being only his for the rest of your life makes your heart swell and your high approaches quickly as you clench around him and explode.
"Ah, gonna give you everything I have. Gonna make you a mommy." Hyunjin's hips stutter as your nails dig into his back.
"Yes, give me a baby Hyunjin, ah!" you whine, your eyes tearing up as he speeds up, chasing his high and quickly cumming at the thought of you being pregnant.
"Shit." he plops down on you and you giggle, holding him tight.
"Was that too much?" he asks.
"No, it's okay, don't worry." you smile, kissing his hair.
"I really do want that with you. I wasn't just saying it in the heat of the moment." Hyunjin says.
"I know. Me too." you say and he lifts up, hovering over you with a goofy smile on his face.
"You really wanna have my baby?" he asks.
"Yes, I really do." you nod, your heart still beating fast.
"How many babies?" he wiggles his eyebrows and you laugh, smacking his arm.
"Let's start with one and then we'll see." you smile and he chuckles.
"Okay but first I want to do something else once we get to the island." his eyes light up as he looks at you lovingly.
"What?" you ask and Hyunjin quickly shakes his head, sitting up.
"Not gonna ruin the surprise. You're gonna have to wait until we get there." he smirks, pinching your cheek and making you whine as you swat at his hand.
"Not fair."
"We'll be home tomorrow morning." he lays down next to you. "Honestly, I'm done with the city. I miss our little island and our home and our garden." he says, caressing your face as he turns to you.
Your heart flutters as Hyunjin calls your home and garden his too.
"Me too. I can't wait to go home with you."
And Hyunjin can't wait either, his heart exploding for the little surprise he begged Elsie to help him with.
He had planned it for some time, wanting to find the perfect ring for you, the thoughts of making you his wife running through his mind constantly ever since he moved in with you and started living on the island, his heart so full every day, so loved, held so preciously in your hands.
Hyunjin knows he wants to spend eternity with you, forever melting in your loving embrace, his mission to make you happy for the rest of time.
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I have a little teeny tiny cheeky theory about this moment. So if you'll indulge me, I shall share it.
I think John Gaius, in this moment, is lying to Harrow.
Let's think about this from a factual standpoint. John is the most powerful necromancer in the entire fucking universe, by a country damn mile.
He is powered by at least 5 billion souls.
You can blow him up into a fine mist and he will reassemble.
He fears not death nor Resurrection Beast. He remotely killed everyone, and resurrected everything and everyone afterward.
And far more compelling than any one thing I could tell you about John, is the fact that despite him saying this at the end of GTN, by the end of HTN, Harrow has proven him wrong.
He tells her it's impossible to remove Gideon. It is not. It is categorically, empirically not. Because they are separated. Gideon is in one body and Harrow is in another. You could argue semantics over how much of those souls are the originals and whether anyone has lost a piece of themselves sure.
Simple fact remains, Gideon and Harrow are separated. He lied to Harrow here. And that's not even the most interesting or sinister part of this interaction I think.
I think it's far more horrifying to examine why John Gaius lied to this heartbroken 17-year-old girl who was begging him, the man she views as God, to bring back the one good thing in her life.
The entire point of the Canaan House Incident was to create new lyctors. Because John's been losing them at an alarming rate. For being nearly invincible super powerful, infinitely energetic necromancers, the lyctors sure have a habit of dying a lot.
He needs new ones. I'm sure he was hoping to get eight new ones in the best circumstance. Instead he finds that he is down one, and only two of the adepts managed to succeed.
The rest of the house nobility were murdered by his own.
Ladies and gentlemen, he lied to Harrow because he needed Harrow. He could very well have separated Gideon, of that I have no doubt. I doubt many things about John Gaius, but I do not doubt his ability to separate souls. Maybe he's telling the truth? I don't think so.
He's lying to manipulate her. To fit his selfish ends, cuz I don't think anyone will deny that John Gaius is extremely selfish.
We know he lied to all of his bestest resurrected friends, solely because he didn't want them being like him? It's actually not clear why. But if he was willing to lie to his friends, then why not some random scrawny girl he's never seen before?
Just some random ramblings.
#gideon the ninth#gtn#gideon the ninth spoilers#gtn spoilers#the locked tomb#the locked tomb spoilers#tlt spoilers#harrow the ninth#john gaius#same bestie#everyone hates him#if someone doesn't hate him#you should be suspicious of them
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More thoughts and theories about our favorite Necromancer
My darlings, I have too many thoughts and my obsession is running wild. (How I missed you, hyperfocus). If you have read my last meta post about our Emmrich, here it is: First Meta Post
That is not a required read however. I am still wondering why anyone is reading my word vomit U_U
Anyway, I love reading other peoples theories, so please, send me yours. <3 And a lot of thanks and love for all you darlings who make this fandom such a beautiful and nice place. Especially to @jaal-ama-daravv - who makes the most beautiful videos, and writes such wonderful character studies.
Warning, from here on there will be spoilers as well as mentions of sex. If you don't want to read about any of that, do not read the rest.
Also pictures and way too many words. This is a ten page word document, save yourself while you can. I tend to go off on a tangent once I start writing. I am also well aware that not everyone will agree. This is just my personal read on Emmrich.
Now, after my first essay I have some more thoughts on Emmrich and Rook and specifically their intimate relationship.
Emmrich is such an interesting and baffling contradiction. On the one hand he is confident, self-assured, all manners and poise. He is smart, and he knows it. He has special gifts, and he knows it. He is confident without being proud. He likes to teach others without being arrogant. He still likes to learn about new things and is, as far as I’ve seen, never judgmental about different beliefs and ways of life. (Unless someone treats him with disdain or bully him)
He is a man who is confident speaking of his thoughts and feelings and fears. How he just casually drops his thanatophobia is just astonishing. He is honest and open-minded in the best ways.
And then there is the other side of him. The wet kitten side of him. As open and honest as he is about his emotions, when we get to the meat of it, to the scary bit, the real feely bit, he locks up completely. As long as it is surface level (or he can pretend its surface level), everything is up for discussion. But once we reach deeper and touch *love* he gets so scared and refuses to admit and commit to his feelings. And as much *death* scares him, love scares him more.
So how does that influence his intimate relationship with Rook?
According to the banter with Lace “everyone knows about it”. He was rather surprised by that.
That tells us two things:
They were trying to be sneaky or at least keep their private business private.
They failed, massively.
Add to that Laces comment about them moving rather fast (when, where? I would have loved to have seen that. Comments like that just give me the feeling that we should have had some more cutscenes after the dinner date, to show us those two besotted fools).
But back to them moving rather fast. I would guess that they both did a lot of gazing lovingly at each other, blushing, spacing out while watching their darling, stollen kisses in the hallway when they thought no one was watching, stuff like that. Just being to besotted fools.
But moving fast usually includes sex. Lots of needy, sweaty sex. The inability to keep their hands of each other.
That moves us to the question of the day – did they have sex before their coffin time?
Let’s look at what we know about Emmrich. Emmrich is no virgin. That man has experience. He had past lovers. But what he tells us at that sweet diner date – “nothing serious for years.” We know not much else besides his crush on a boy in his youth and his fling with the Orlesian Art Lady. He is not someone to kiss and tell and that is appreciated. That man has class, and we love him for it.
So - nothing SERIOUS for years. If he hadn’t had ANY relationships in the past years, he would have said so. But what he says is that he did, in fact, have UNSERIOUS relationships in the last few years.
I would read that to be somewhere along the “fwb, lovers, affairs, paramours, companions, a fling, a little romance” line. Something not purely, but mainly physically driven. Someone you like and respect, you can go out and have a good time with, have lots of amazing sex with (b/c he is a living being and has his needs). Spending time with people he liked, was sexually attracted too, but nothing as serious as love. A physical relationship. A little thrill, some fluttering, but never that deep.
Not to say that those situationships would not have been romantic. He is (buried under all that resignation) a deeply romantic man. I am pretty sure he went on nice romantic dates with his previous paramours too. That this is something he just enjoys too much. Treating a companion with some quality time, not just in, but also out of the bedroom.
But after he’d given up on his dreams, he did not have any notion of those flings being more than a “enjoy the moment”. There was never the expectation of deeper feelings, beyond friendship, attraction and/or respect. All those romantic gestures were nothing more than a little bit of “play pretend”. To give himself the illusion of true romance, just for a little time.
Take the fact that you can go a “everything you do is creepy but I still flirt with you and I want you to throw me over that tombstone” and his comment on “the attraction of the forbidden”? This is not a relationship born of mutual respect and deeper feelings but out of purely physical attraction. And he is OK with that.
I want to repeat – Emmrich is very much okay with a casual, sexual affair. He does not require love to have a relationship with someone.
And then think about that Johanna calls Rook specifically his “paramour”. Which is a lover, especially an illicit one. This word was very specifically chosen by Johanna. For various reasons, I would think.
For one, I do believe that it is a dig at his dreams of the eternal flame. It’s a dig at him, that Rook is not his love, but his paramour. A lover for a time. To be parted from soon enough. B/c that silly dream of his, as if it ever would become reality.
Second, I think it is a comment on the way his relationships often went, especially in the past years. Those unserious flings of his. Never to amount to anything substantial.
Did he try to have something serious in the past? Oh yes, for sure. But it never worked out. Then he gave up his dream and just let himself have a good time with people he found to be nice and attractive.
To pick up my point of self-sabotage from my last meta post – I’ve come to a point where I believe Emmrich is a kind of chaser. I know someone like that and it’s so fucking tragic.
Emmrich feels deeply and strongly. When he falls in love with someone it’s a lot of emotion. But at that point it’s all dream, want, wish. As soon as someone returns these feelings - those dreams, wants and wishes become reality. And reality is scary. In this wishful dream about the eternal flame, there is no fear. No fights. No loss. But that is not reality. As soon as it becomes reality, he gets scared. Before, his feelings were no threat, because you can’t lose what you don’t have. Once those feelings are returned, there is a clear possibility of losing, of being lost, of being left behind.
Emmrich is not a chaser because he enjoys the hunt. He is a chaser because being loved by someone is scary. So damn scary. So, he starts to pick fights and is looking for excuses. From being the chaser, he becomes the chased. He is hunted by his fears, and his fight or flight instincts go all flight.
After years of this cycle he gives up. Resigns himself to flings and little romances without even thinking of more. Or so he thinks. Dreams like that don’t die, they just get buried.
And I’d think that there was not many, even of those short term flings, lately. His life revolves around work and Manfred.
Now remember he comments on Rook “showing unexpected interest in a new companion”.
First of all – unexpected.
They are a daring adventurer. He thinks of himself clearly as the more boring one, compared to Rook. He never expected any of those flirts. But he is clearly flattered.
Second – companion.
That was such a weird way of saying “hey do you like me?”. This whole “companion” thing does not scream “I have FEELZ for you/you have FEELZ for me” but rather, “I think you might want to spend some quality time with me”.
The possible answers - dashing good looks, kindness, his way of words.
He feels he is fortunate if Rook thinks him good looking. Hallo, Mr. Professor, sir… Have you looked in the mirror lately? Consider that he is meticulously grooming himself, takes his exercises daily in the morning. That man does not like himself aging. I think it is a reminder of how his pending death is a step closer every day. But it shows, to him, that his efforts of taking care of himself are not in vain. Or maybe it shows him that his age does not matter. Rook finds him attractive despite (or because) of his physical age.
Rooks comment on his very charming way of putting things makes him hope his years behind the lectern have proved useful. Hey *years* behind the lectern. Again, this is a way of saying his age is NOT a problem but a benefit.
If Rook remarks his kindness, he answers “you humble me”. It’s the one answer that does not touch his age/experience/looks. It’s a remark on an innate character trait he possesses. Kindness. His whole demeanor in this option shows he is actually touched. And maybe a bit baffled. He did not expect this, at all. Its like he sees his kindness not as an attractive trait. Which he should. He is nice without TM and its sexy as hell.
The next part is his statement “If your attentions go beyond charming flattery… that would interest me, indeed”. This reads to me not necessarily as “do you have feelings for me” but as “do you just enjoy the flirting, or do you want to do more than flirting?”
And oh boy, does he want to do more than flirting. I want to repeat my earlier statement – this man has given up on love. But some little fling with an exiting young adventure who was constantly, awkwardly flirting with him? Hell, yeah.
(I want to remind you that we were able to have mutually enjoyed flirts with Dorian as fem!Inky. You can flirt with someone and still never want to fuck them. And you are also perfectly able to want more than flirting without having deeper feelings. Like sweet, dump Shepaloo said it so eloquently “Lets bang, okay?”)
Again, I want to pick up a point of my last post, that this is all surface level thoughts. I do believe that their emotional attraction and depth of feelings go deeper, from the start. But how often does it take quite a bit of time to realize one’s own feelings. Especially this wonderful, silly man whose modus operandi is running away.
Now, an interested Rook can answer in an open “lets see where this goes” way. Mirroring his rather open idea of a little romance, a fling, some quality time. Something that does not have to end in an eternal flame, but a simple enjoyment and exploration of the moment.
Rook can also reply with a “I think they do.” – What Rook actually says is “I think they already…”
And conveniently Rooks answer here is cut short by our sweet boy Manfred. They get cut short, no matter what answer you choose, but in this specific case, I am convinced this was very much on purpose. What would the whole sentence have been?
“I think they already go way beyond flattery.” (?!?) Something along those lines. But that goes into danger zone. WAY into danger zone.
If Rook had finished that sentence, at that point in their budding romance? It would have been over before is all started. Too much, too soon. Too much for him, period.
Now we have the hard lock – their sweet romantic moment in the Memorial Gardens. And he is smitten. He fell hook, line, and sinker for his own play pretend. Just a little romance, but that man is falling, fast. (Not that he would admit that to himself).
A beautiful date, all arranged by Emmrich, to spend time with Rook. Because a couple should have a quite moment to get to know each other. I mean there were menu cards with gilded edges, ffs. And, oh yes, they were “lets dig into the feelings”, he said couple. He is falling, falling, falling fast. But it still hasn’t hit him, how deep he has fallen for his darling Rook. Poor Emmrich.
Then a fight, where we really see the wet kitten side of him for the first time. A little wet, feral kitten, hissing at the hand that’s trying to feed it.
Emmrich is lashing out for no good reason (or no good reason for anyone but himself). There is no real confidence there but a desperate act of pretending. An iron (slipping) grip, trying to control himself and the narrative. Shoulders squared, back straight, an arrogant stance, raised chin, turned half-away from Rook, and a condescending way of talking to Rook.
Like I said in my last post – he is working his way up to breaking up with them. And he tells himself it’s like ripping off a bandaid. Be strong and confident and say what you have to say, and they will see the wisdom of that.
It’s only that, they don’t. Because there IS NO wisdom in what he is doing right now. They don’t take his bullshit but throw it back at him. They don’t accept his mock excuses.
Look at him here, how he looks down ON them. I can’t recall any other time he looks down on Rook, despite him being a tall king.
Especially the route where Rook throws it in his face that he DOES in fact love them. Speak what he can’t even think.
“I can’t… At my…”
“I can’t love you. At my age…” Why not? Does he not deserve love, just because he is a bit older? It’s just heartbreaking how he views himself.
And again, he lashes out.
“I am perfectly serious.” So is Rook.
“One of us has to pay attention to these things.” As if Rook is not paying attention. They got to the meat and bones of his problem in just a few seconds.
No matter what route you go here, the gist is the same. He is scared shitless, treats Rook like a child, and goes on how the is the only one thinking the important thoughts.
When Rook in reality way ahead of him. They thought about it and came to the conclusion that being with Emmrich is a really good idea.
Rook knew they were falling for someone older than them. (Even if that age difference is just a decade, with a mid-40s Rook.) They knew it, and still went with it. They are not a child who is too inexperienced and stupid to make decisions about their (love) life.
But now, here, at this moment? Emmrich treats them with disdain. Like a silly little person, who does not think things through. He holds himself above them. Physically and mentally. They are too young, he knows better.
And not once has he done that before. He always treated them as an equal. He follows them into the most dangerous situations ffs. He trusts them with his life in a fight against would-be gods.
All that fear and anger at himself that reaches a new high get redirected at Rook.
The next day they are off to Tearstone Island. That night must have been hell. For both of them. But its going to get much much worse.
In any case, Emmrich seems to have come to some conclusion or realization, because on that island? He apologizes.
They both did react very emotionally, but he came at Rook with superiority and, to a certain degree, dishonesty. All fueled by his fear. So that he is the one to take the first step and apologize to Rook instead of doubling down? An important step. As I said in my last post – he NEEDED to be called out. A sweet and nice counterargument would not have had the impact Rooks raw an honest emotion hat on him.
Emmrich “Rook? Darling? I wanted to say-“
Rook “Yeah, about that argument…”
Emmrich “(Sighs) It’s no time to apologize, is it?”
And here we have the most heartbreaking line, in hindsight. “We’ll talk back home, Emmrich. I promise.”
(Narrator: but they would, in fact, not talk about it back home. Because someone would not go home.)
One fight and weeks of horror later, they find themselves in a private crypt and finally they do more than share a kiss.
Now - to the point I originally wanted to explore with this post – is this in fact their first time? (I am sorry, but my brain is a circle and nothing makes sense)
Let’s look at what evidence we have from the cut-scene.
Rook did not know he is an early riser.
That leaves two possibilities:
They never had sex up until that point.
They did have sex, but never spent the night together.
Now what does that mean?
This depends a lot on your personal Rook and how they feel about sex in general. If Rook wants to wait, or is not ready, he will absolutely accept and respect that.
But for the sake of this analysis lets go with the idea that Rook is not opposed to sex at an earlier date.
They never slept with each other
Why? He clearly was not opposed to casual relationships in the past. What would hold him back now? Especially if you recall Laces comment about them moving fast. Why not jump into the bedroom?
Now my first crack theory is that they get interrupted, like every time. (Rook interrupted The Dread Wolf, and now he cursed them to always be interrupted when they want to have some private time)
But now, in all seriousness, maybe it’s just that part of him DOES realize that this goes beyond a very unserious relationship. That they both have deeper feelings, that spark of something greater, something beautiful.
So, he holds back. He does not give his all. He is charming, he is flirty, he takes Rook on dates. But it’s all very technical. Very performative. Yes, he is a very romantic man, yes he enjoys those moments. But there is always a feeling of control.
Those moments when you see him let go a bit (that kiss beneath the eternal lovers, “I think, sometimes you indulge me”), are so beautiful and you glimpse a bit of the man behind those walls.
He has a tell, you see. (I am telling you about it further down)
But generally, he feels very much in control of himself. And to lie with Rook? To go all the way? Too dangerous. Who knows what happens in that sweet moment after la petit mort? What secrets would his lips spill?
2. They slept together, but did not spent the night together.
They do have sex, but sleep alone in their own beds. Casual sex is fine, but to fall asleep in each other’s arms? Too much. Too real. Sex okay, but sleepy post coitus cuddly? Woah, slow down your horses.
So, they have sex, preferably in Rooks bed. First, does he even have a bed? Second, it’s way easier to leave Rooks bed after the act, than throwing them out afterwards.
Oh, and how many reasons he has. Rook needs their uninterrupted sleep; they are stressed and must have proper rest. He wants to get some reading done before he retires. He needs to look after Manfred.
Oh, he is a bad liar, for sure. He is lying more to himself than to Rook. I would think that (if this is the build up to their fight) Rook realizes that he is giving poor excuses.
And the sex itself? A technical 10/10. He knows his anatomy, after all. But his heart is not really in it. He can’t allow himself to. He holds back, keeps a tight lid on his emotions. They both are well spent afterwards, but like so much else, it’s performative. Technically very well executed, but rarely do you see HIM, the real him, behind all that performance. Whenever something slips through, he reels back and closes up.
And then we are in that crypt. Rook was gone for weeks. The last thing they said that night before were words of anger. Rook called him out on his feelings and from that point on there was no possible way of lying to himself anymore. Those feelings were there. They were real. Rooks feelings were real. And those weeks spent in desperation, trying to get them back? Those walls came crashing down.
His true face, when all the walls are gone? You see that face when Rook leads him to the coffin. There is no pretense anymore. No performance. Just him, and all his love for Rook. The amount of emotion the animation team packed into those short moments in the cutscene? Mindblowing. Who ever crafted that expression on his face? They are the GOAT. I watch this part of that scene on repeat, and it never gets old.
So, I told you about how he has a tell, yes? Okay, two actually, but we all know surprised pikachu Emmrich. In that last scene it is resolved in the most beautiful way.
He looks down, when something touches him deeply, when he goes into his feels.
A few (way to many) examples:
And the worst wet kitten look? After the fight, when Rook leaves.
Its a look of shame. Of hurt. This man is hurting so badly.
Now here at the end we have that moment when Rook leads him to the coffin. His face turns down, like before. But here he looks up at Rook. He does not turn his eyes away but looks directly at them. Ahhh my heart.
Now, think about the fact that ROOK is leading in that moment?
In those moments where Rook leads or startles him (or is simply annoying enough so that the truth slips out), you see the most emotion from him.
Rooks flirting startles him, and he has a pikachu face reaction every time.
Their first kiss? Rook leans against the monument, and leans up, telling him without words that NOW is the time for a kiss. How can he not go for a second kiss?
That moment when Rook calls Manfred “our son”? He very conveniently ignores the word “OUR” and goes in defense mode over the word “son”. But called out on his feelings for Manfred? How can he deny them? He has tears in his voice when he says how he would not exchange this moment for anything? A real, deep emotion.
In their fight Emmrich is again all technical, all performance, so logical (or what he sells himself as logic). But Rook wrestles that moment from him and takes lead, calls him out on his bullshit.
In the crypt Rook pulls him up into a kiss and then leads him to the coffin, guiding him, taking him with them.
Most of the other times he takes the lead, very much in control. But the most emotions you get from him, are those times Rooks leads, when he lets go of this tight control over himself, or he is startled in to a reaction. For all the age difference that is played up in their relationship, in the important moments Rook is the one who guides. And he follows where they lead.
Those little moans he makes? If they did have sex before, I bet he did not make those sounds then. Where they did have some incredible sex, now they are making love. Open, vulnerable. He gives in.
And then they fall asleep together. Skin to skin, arms and legs intertwined. Their hands caressing, no sound but that of their heartbeats and soft breaths. Pure and utter contentment. In that moment nothing exists but them. Can you imagine that moment he woke up? The amount of emotions he must have felt then? This need to speak those little words? Those huge little words. He does not say them, not yet. But he is almost ready.
Finally, they stand there, on the battlefield of Elgar’nans madness. And he tells Rook. The last wall falls. Gives the most precious thing he can give to anyone.
“I love you.”
#emmrich#emmrich volkarin#emmrich x rook#emmrook#emmrich meta post#meta post#character study#dragon age#dragon age veilguard#dragon age the veilguard#da#datv#dav
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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭 || 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐬 𝐀𝐜𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐮𝐬
summary_ having an affair with General Acacius overseas while conquering lands turned into a problem after coming back to Rome, when you fell for a gladiator that turned out to be a missing prince.
warnings_ CRINGE, girthy age gap (legal) (I’m 20, sorry) historical inaccuracy, angst, violence, gore, animal death, sexism and misogyny, fluff but angst, a lot of canon divergence bc I said so. NO PROOFREAD, BEWARE!
note_ i can’t remember if Denzel’s character was named Macrino, I can’t remember which year the movie is set in, I can’t remember many things but let me know if I fucked up too much. And listen to fallen fruit from Lorde while reading.
♪ ♫ Pedro playlist | ✰ Index (+ fics here)
𖦹°⭒˚。⋆ 𓆇𓆸⋆。𖦹°⭒˚。⋆ 𓆇𓆸⋆。𖦹°⭒˚。⋆ 𓆇𓆸
The sea was a free land. Nobody could conquer it because there wasn’t anything valuable floating around. Perhaps at the bottom of the ocean, a treasure may lay, but no man had shown the desire to dive into the deep.
The screams of the innocents are loud enough to make you feel empathy for them. But Acacius had trained you to put a mask of neutrality when leading war.
Loving the most effective soldier of Rome was your little secret. He married the daughter of an old emperor and he fought to get her privileges and prevent her from danger.
Always the insane little girl running around the palace, rambling about plants, the stars, a dream of Rome in flames. It was enough to be secretly sent to a scribe's university in Egypt for some time.
Upon your return, not much had changed, only that your father, once lead of the council, then the wise of Rome had died. Consequently, your evil stepbrothers were crowned emperors. They named you a soldier and made sure you were at every battlefront, hoping for your death.
But your general trained you well, and with months of practice, you ended up tangled up with him on his sheets in Greece.
Adultery was considered a crime in Rome and you’d give the perfect reason to your brothers to burn you like a witch. Or worse, to send you to fight at the arena of the Colosseum.
But the people who accompanied you and Acacius overseas were loyal and couldn’t care less if you had an older man fucking you each night. They only cared about you being a good soldier on the battlefront and being a good princess in Rome.
With a couple of hours left to be home again, you had your wounds checked. Conquering Numidia was one of the last African cities to be marked by the Romans and your brothers desperately wanted to own it. Only a few burns scattered across your leg and your shoulder needed stitches were the price to pay.
The wooden floor creaked and the general turned around alert but as soon as he saw you, he seemed to calm down.
Your arms wrapped around him and he immediately had to lean and kiss you. His lips tasted like devotion, peace, and lust. Acacius always grabbed your hips first. Then he moved to your waist, only to end up caressing your cheeks as his lips kept marking you his.
“What did the doctor say?” asked Acacius as he gasped for air.
“Nothing to worry about…” You nodded at him and he turned his back to you again, looking at his open windows, to the sea.
“What about yours? How is the scar on your nose?”
“It’s fine. Could’ve been worse” You walked towards him, sensing he had bathed like you as well, his hair looked perfectly curly and you couldn’t help but smile.
You could stay looking at the horizon forever, just because he was by your side. The sound of the waves calmed your mind after another day of calamities brought by war.
“For those who chose the sea, greatness waits at the end of the rainbow,” you said smiley. But the general remained stood silent.
“Those are ludicrous tells, the truth is that even war has infected the sea as well.”
“Because we chose to fight, then yes, the sea is also an arena. But if we chose not to, the way will not depict war” his eyes kept looking at you, completely fixated and even threatening, like Acacius was trying to understand how much you were judging him.
“We do this because we don’t have any other choice, princess y/n,” Acacius said, finally turning to look at you.
“We could run away, to the south, the islands of the Tyrrhenian Sea are empty, nobody wants to live there” your voice trembling, nervous and waiting for his response. He stared at nothing, probably thinking. And that made you uneasy.
“I can’t leave Rome, I have to go back to…” he said coldly.
“Your wife….Right”
Silence. Even the sea seized the sound of the waves.
“Haven’t you told her?”
“What’s there to be told? I said this was only a thing of passion and lust” You bit your tongue at his harsh words.
“Was it? Would you say that all those nights you shared your past with me meant nothing, Marcus?”
There it was. His most personal name, that one nobody used. The general got closer to you, paying attention to your face. Princesses did not have scars, but you did. He wanted to say so much, but he couldn’t. You noticed how his fingers were about to trace the pink scar on your chin but he moved away.
“I was drunk most of the nights, doping the pain” Finally your eyes crystallized.
“Do you love Lucilla, General?” His steps stopped then turned around to face you one last time.
His eyes looked doubtful but soon landed on his feet.
“… I do love her” you nodded, holding the tears and bursting out of his room in anger.
“Of course you do”
Your disappointment was so evident that Acacius was able to look at your face reddening and tears falling freely. He could only sigh and go back to pack his things and get ready to arrive in Rome again.
If only you knew…
…
The crowds of Rome couldn’t stop screaming your name. It was “PRINCESS Y/N!” and “ACACIUS!” everywhere.
You were no hero, you just wanted a peaceful life in a free Rome with the man you loved. And you can feel his hand brushing yours while his left salutes the parade of people chanting both of your names. The truth is you have no purpose but to serve your brothers and pretend that is your life.
The twins always hated you. Their mother was a wealthy woman but yours was the emperor’s true love. The twins used to pull your hair and always picked poisonous berries to give you as a meal while being toddlers. It got worse as everyone noticed you were your father’s favorite. And with him gone, you were utterly alone in the world.
Your clumsy steps made you arrive later. There was no crown for you waiting like it had been for Acacius. Geta and Caracalla were talking to him. And when you noticed the sword in the general’s neck, your face went serious.
“Do not forget the privileges we’ve made for your wife” you heard Geta saying.
“Same benefits we’re making for your whores, frater” The twins turned to look at you, quickly releasing Acacius and going straight to you. Their golden armors were a mere matter of display. They could barely wield a sword. They were bad with the bow and arrow and their reflections were poor too. They were good with numbers and shapes, but that wasn’t much in the city they shaped. One full of segregation and violence.
“Dear, soror… you’re back…” you think Geta gets closer to hug you, but his hand has raised and he gives you a sharp slap across the cheek.
“Dazzling and with such a big mouth as always” he added while you looked down, your cold hand against the reddening skin and sending him the worst look you had.
“Leave the princess alone, emperor. We should be focusing on the games ahead. We brought many slaves that some of them could fit as gladiators” Acacius said, looking affectionately at you, with disguise.
Caracalla only laughs in your face and his monkey reaches you for some seconds, but your brother pulls him away quickly. You wonder how far his disease has spread. Before leaving Rome, he was completely against seeing a doctor.
“Acacius is right, Geta. Let’s focus on the games” the twins agreed but sure, they had to humiliate you one last time.
“Alright then. But the next time I see you, dear y/n… I don’t want to see your hair down freely. You look like a whore and not the princess of Rome” he whispered loud enough to make everyone hear. But finally, the twins were gone.
“Are you alright?” The general asked but you rolled your eyes.
“I don’t need your help, Acacius. I’ve dealt with Geta and Caracalla since the day I was born. Which was before we met you” he sighed, understanding you were still mad from your last conversation. He appreciated your free hair, long and healthy despite the fires you went through while in combat.
“I just don’t want to see you hurt. It’s enough they sent you to serve in the war when you should be here, safe from the horrors”
“Go home to your wife, Acacius. Your dinner will be cold…” you spit out with a bitter tone before walking away, disappearing through the walls of the palace.
…
Standing naked, dripping, and waiting for servants to dry you up, you stare at the dress hanging in your room. It had been months since you wore a dress, used to armor and tight braids, and the sensation of the fabric felt odd.
As a kid, you wished to befriend your servants, but they remained professional and apologetically brushed away your questions. Which made you feel even more lonely while they dressed you up; placing gold jewelry and rings with quartz, spraying perfume, and cleaning your teeth. Geta and Caracalla always stole the sweets from you as kids, you thanked them because instead, it was Caracalla who ended up with a decayed tooth and a gold one as a replacement.
“You’re ready, princess,” said one of the servants and you smiled at her as a thank you.
The whole time while you and your brothers awaited to arrive at the Colosseum, you ignored them. You sneaked away as soon as you arrived. Knowing the place like the palm of your hand, you took a secret passage, in hopes to go and tend your horse to delay the entertainment as long as you could.
Gladiator fights were of no interest to you. But the people loved it. Their ignorance made you understand why they hadn’t tried to throw your brothers from the thrones.
But being months away made you forgetful of the architecture of the Colosseum, forgetful enough to end up in the cells of gladiators. Looking perplexed, you gulped nervously. There were indeed many slaves brought.
Being the only woman there made you the center of attention. Even worse when you looked exactly like a princess would do.
“Princess y/n, What are you doing here?” Asked one of the high-rank soldiers, running towards you.
“I wanted to tend my horse. It was brought here by accident” you replied, eyes wandering through the cells, noticing the people inside them were full of new people, probably from Numidia. You wonder if they recognized you.
Your eyes met the ocean-blue ones of a man, he certainly recognized you as he looked at you with anger. You gulped once again, looking away from him. But his gaze had been so strong that you didn’t hear a servant come running from the end of the hallway.
“A TIGER ESCAPED! A TIGER ESCAPED! CLOSE THE DOORS!” he screamed and soon everyone went into panic mode. You didn’t have enough time to process what he said and do anything. You stood there confused for some seconds. The violent roars of the animal could be heard closer. You looked around trying to find a weapon.
“Stay behind me, princess,” said the same soldier but you didn’t trust him so you went to grab a bow and arrow. The prisoners yelled and quickly you understood they were having a private show. They hated you for being Roman, and they thought they would see you dying.
But you wouldn’t give them that satisfaction as much as you sympathized with them.
The tiger appeared, big and imposing. The animal was angry, visibly distressed, and ready to attack.
You had killed men, but an animal was different. There was no exact description of what to do. Just pure instinct. So you try to calm yourself before the tiger spots you and the soldier, who are the only ones that remain vulnerable. The guards closed the entrances as protocol, unbeknownst that you were there. And it had been too late to use the secret passage.
You felt the same man’s eyes on you and indeed, he looked carefully at you, probably wondering what would be your next move.
“PRINCESS, STAY AWAY!” The soldier screamed when the tiger came running towards you two.
The tiger jumped and threw the soldier, roaring as it tried to kill him. So you ran away in hopes of aiming at the eye of the animal to gain time. Your hands shaking and you could feel your legs get tangled up in the fabric of your dress. But your nervousness isn’t visible as your hands work on getting ready for the arrow. You don’t have time to calculate, the tiger has already bitten the soldier’s fingers.
You hit it very near the eye and the animal roared even louder, in pain. That’s when you spotted the sword the soldier had left behind, where you threw yourself to, as the tiger had tried to attack you again. The man with blue eyes pushed the sword towards you from inside the cell and you didn’t even look to thank him, you only grabbed the weapon and rolled to the right before the animal could scratch your face and kill you.
You heard the soldier cry out in pain but you couldn’t help him. Thinking you could end the beast chasing you, you failed, sinking the sword in the ribs of the animal. You felt a deep scratch in your arm and you cried out. Anger quickly builds up as you know you had to get out of there before everyone at the coliseum found out. The tiger roared one last time and before it could throw you to the sandy ground you grabbed another arrow and directly pierced the eye of the animal. Blood starts pouring and before the tiger can try to bite and break your neck, your hands end up in its mouth.
The fangs were dangerously digging into your hands and more blood started coming. Scarlet droplets fell all over your face and you didn’t care. You screamed in pain and pulled all the strength in your body to put the pressure on your arms and hands. The men inside the cells cheered and made you even more angered. Until you had torn open the tiger’s mouth, breaking its jaw and killing the animal.
Breathe….
Pushing the dead animal aside, you sighed, resting on the dirty floor for a couple of seconds before taking a long breath and standing up.
Every man inside each cell looked at you quietly. What’s there to say?
Five guards open the main entrance and look confused at the mess, then at you tending the heavily injured soldier.
“Bring a doctor,” you tell them and they nod without asking more questions. Only one comes to your side.
“The games are about to begin, princess. I must escort you back to where you should be” Trying to catch your breath, you nodded.
“Do not say a word about this mess” The guard only bowed his head in agreement.
The least you could do was to put some bandages around the bloody hand of the soldier. Then you cleaned yourself and noticed you were a mess.
Giving that soon-to-be gladiator one last look, you tried to thank him with your eyes for what he had done to help you. He understood, giving you a cold nod.
And as you walked towards the royal platea, you wondered if that was the slave your brothers mentioned. A poet…
“Oh heavens! What happened to you?” Asked Lucilla as soon as you tried to take a seat beside Geta. Then everyone turned to look at you in horror. You noticed Acacius looked worried and he couldn’t keep his eyes away from the blood in your dress and bandaged arm.
“An accident” you replied politely at the woman, not in the mood to face the wife of your ex-lover.
“You look horrible,” said Caracalla.
“It won’t; happen again, frater” you tiredly answered, sinking onto the chair, ignoring Acacius’ eyes on you.
Soon you are surprised to see the gladiator who helped you in the arena. You don’t face him when he ends up winning and he looks at you. But you do notice Lucilla’s behavior and quickly you have connected the dots.
What an odd coincidence…
…
This time, you checked the animals first, then you made sure nobody had seen you entering the cells, but you went where the mysterious gladiator of blue eyes rested.
“Barbarian, monkey eater, slave, gladiator…. Prince of Rome, How may I call you? Hanno or Lucius?” Soon you had him inches away from your face. At that moment, you had time to appreciate his features. He was handsome and looked pretty much like he belonged to Roman royalty. But his gaze was fueled by anger and pain.
“What do you want?”
“I know Lucilla came before me. She had been waiting for you ever since I can remember” he looked at you with cold eyes and unbothered. But you knew he was curious about you too.
“What do you care? You’re the princess, you support all of this” his anger was palpable, it was part of his way of fighting you had noticed.
“Who did you lose?” You asked.
“My wife” he replied after a little silence, you nodded apologetically. He didn’t believe you.
“My father was a friend of your grandfather, part of the council. Now I realize that when he was elected emperor, he started hunting you down. I’m sorry”
“You don’t. You joined their cause and you fight proudly on the battlefront. I saw you…” you chuckle sarcastically.
“The twins you met the other day are my half-brothers. And they have tried to kill me since I was born. They sent me to war as punishment, but Acacius trained me well enough to survive each battle”
“So what? Should I pity you?”
“No, please don’t. But I don’t support any of this. I want to be a free woman and be with the man I love but I don’t think I’ll live enough to make it happen” he seemed interested in your words but pretended he wasn’t. Either way, you kept talking.
“You can’t kill Acacius. He’s leading a rebellion against my brothers” he stood quiet, trying to taste the lies in your words. But you seemed very truthful.
“Interesting that you want his head when all I’ve wanted is his heart” Through the cell his eyes sparkled and looked tentatively at you, for some seconds you got too attached to them.
“What about Macrino?” The old man had been trying to gain your brother’s trust and you thought that was suspicious.
“Don’t trust him. Stop sharing any detail that could tell him what you want or fear”
“I don’t trust you either”
“You shouldn’t,” you said, a little smile unconsciously appearing on your face. And to your surprise, Lucius smiled too. There was something about you that he found lovely. You seemed honest, but he couldn’t trust you yet. So he cursed once you had left, you had him looking forward to meet you again.
…
Across the room runs a large table filled with food. A variety of fruits, bread, lamb, duck, pork, and lots of wine. Your hands float around the punch though, reminding you of the first time you tried Egyptian beer. You ended up drunk with Marcus Acacius, laughing on the sand and soon both ended up naked. You frown, trying to forget that messy night.
“You’ve been oddly quiet these past days,” said Lucilla appearing by your side, grabbing more fruits and placing them on her plate.
“I’ve been busy”
“Have you met Macrino?” She said pointing in disguise at the man who laughs with some senators and your brothers.
“He’s been around for some time. But I don’t like him” you confessed.
“I’ve also met his poet gladiator” you added, opting to not look at her eyes because she responded very shocked.
“What?”
“He wants to kill Acacius for the death of his late wife, avenge his homeland, etcétera etcétera. I told him not to because we plan to free the city. You can’t proceed with the nonsense of taking him out of the Colosseum. Your son can’t be the alibi to start a revolution, Lucilla” you said whispering. She gasped in shock, wondering how you knew already. All while you carefully watched if any of your brothers or that nosy man were looking. Not even Acacius was looking.
You sigh, shrugging and looking at the woman.
“As soon as he came out wielding that sword in the arena, your face said everything. Then just by hearing his mysterious backstory. It was obvious, Lucilla” She didn’t say anything else, so you continued.
“I shall repeat myself once again. You won’t encourage Acacius to get your boy out of the Colosseum.”
“Why not?” you chuckled at the woman.
She was very pretty, sweet and caring. No wonder why the general loved her.
“You and your husband were lucky that I found out one of your maids heard everything and was about to spill it”
“What did you do, y/n?” She asked tired, thinking destiny was so meticulous and how you had ended up in such a position to hear and stop the maid before chaos unleashed.
“Let’s say I granted her eternal silence,” you said, Lucilla sighed, understanding. And before she could thank you, you spoke again.
“Wait till Lucius is in the arena to save him. And stop looping Acacius into this madness, you’ll make him get killed” She understood everything by the way your eyes looked at her. It shocked her, but she remained calm as you left to sit at the table. Only a woman in love spoke with a mix of venom and sweetness like that.
Taking a seat beside the General, he turned to look at you.
“What were you talking about there with Lucilla?” He asked in a very low but deep tone.
“Just gossiping about Senator Brutus and his new wife…” he knew you were lying but tried to act normal.
“Princess y/n… How true are those rumors about you breaking the jaw of a tiger?” asked a scribe, making you look away from Acacius, Lucilla returned to the table and your brother was already laughing at you for something you couldn’t hear.
“Well… it’s true, domine.” The table burst into laughter. Only the general and his wife remained silent.
“You did what?” Asked Acacius looking at you in horror.
“A princess shouldn’t be in combat” added Macrino, making you set your eyes on him.
“Oh I am a princess but I’m also a soldier, domine. And I have to thank my brothers because they made me a woman capable of wielding more than one weapon by sending me to war” The twins stopped laughing. Geta sipped from his wine and returned to you.
“That’s true. While you were there getting battle scars, Caracalla and I focused on diplomacy, ensuring we gained more land” You want to laugh at his face. The council did that, not the twins.
“Did you ensure the poor were stable by cutting from the rich? Did you do the math to financially cover each branch Rome rules, Geta? Or did you and Caracalla just point at lands on a map to get like prizes?”
“y/n…” Acacius whispered your name, trying to make you stop. The tension has risen very quickly.
“You have one task, soror. To give us India. A woman shouldn’t even be speaking on the table” Caracalla said when you were about to stand up and burst out. Marcus grabbed your hand under the table.
And immediately calmed you down.
“I’m only saying you should wisely rule this great empire. Do not let it fall…”
Soon the chatting turned into drinking after the awkward moment. When most of the men were getting drunk you returned to the table, cautiously grabbing food again. When you looked up, you encountered the image of Acacius kissing Lucilla. And it made your blood boil.
In a thick piece of fabric, you placed bread, some fruits, cheeses, and a small piece of lamb.
“What are you doing?” you nearly screamed when you noticed Acacius standing by your side.
“I’m grabbing food”
“Isn’t it a little late to eat again?” He wasn’t judging you, he never would, but he was very curious.
You would start up a little fire after seeing the painful image of him kissing his wife.
“It’s not for me…” before he could ask you you sprinted away. His blood boiled too, his hand firmly grabbed your wrist to stop you.
“What are you playing?” He asked.
“Playing? I’m definitely not”
“Is this some kind of punishment for what I told you days ago?” You sighed.
“I didn’t mean to say it was nothing. But… you have to wait, y/n” Acacius whispered and you chuckled.
“I’ve waited long enough to realize you will always be trapped in a marriage with two different kinds of love. And Lucilla will never love you like you want because her heart will always beat for that gladiator whose name was carved from the Colosseum”
You had raised your voice, Lucilla was looking at you two, and everyone else was drunk. So you violently flinched away from the man, who looked at you with a mix of pain and rage.
You leave and he immediately sends a guard to follow you in disguise.
“We must talk,” Lucilla said to Acacius, taking his hand.
He nodded.
…
What did that man have that made you feel safe? He didn’t protest when you walked inside his cell. He didn’t demand you to go away. He quietly lets you inside, talk, and explain yourself.
Two visits filled with food from your dinners were enough to let him know you had no intention of killing him. Your curiosity must’ve been too big, his eyes too attractive, and an odd vibration that warmed your chest.
To be honest, you had no idea why you came back to him. You just felt something. And you hated to admit it.
“If the emperors have made your life so difficult, Why didn’t you leave?” Lucius asked. He had eaten everything you gave him and was sitting beside you on the dirty floor.
“Every time I tried to escape, I couldn’t make it far enough. So I stayed and accepted my fate. To serve them will keep me alive ” he nodded, finally understanding why you hadn’t revealed yourself against the evil emperors.
“You didn’t come down here just to talk”
“I didn’t. I- I guess I just want to believe you’ll do something greater than I have always tried. Everyone talks about your rage but I think you quite act like a prospect hero… with honor” you revealed and wanted to cut your thong like you did with that old maid. You hated oversharing. But instead, Lucius chuckled and you frowned confused, expecting him to talk.
“You reminded me of my wife…”
“How so?”
“She said similar things to you” Most unexpectedly, you blushed. Thankfully the darkness of the cell made it unnoticeable.
“I’m trying to find a way to get you out of here before your mother does something rushed”
“I was very harsh with her”
“How couldn’t you? I would have behaved the same way. But she loves you and she doesn’t want to let you go just when she found you” Lucius smiled once again, making you remain still, unsure of what to do next. Soon you realized the sun was very close to coming up again.
How many hours had you spent talking with the rightful Prince of Rome?
“I must go, Geta and Caracalla will know I spent the night away,” you said standing up, trying to clean the mess your dress had become.
“Will I see you again before that revolution happens?” You smiled, walking back near him.
He was tall, you had to completely raise your head to face him.
“The final day of the games is closer. I’ll bring you more food and I’ll try to see what will the next encounters look like”
“Thank you. I judged you too fast…” he said and you chuckled.
“You still have time to change your mind”
You didn’t notice when he closed the distance. Just when his face had been inches away from yours, you gasped.
But neither of you two protested, your lips touched his at the same time.
Tasting the wine you brought him made you feel intoxicated. No intrusive thoughts appeared while you kissed him.
You could only taste his passion, his need to take control. But all his hidden softness too. One of his hand caressed with softness your cheek and the other grasped your neck.
“Stay safe, Lucius,” you said as you moved away from him.
…
The whole day was lost because you spent it sleeping. Only when you woke up for dinner, did you learn you had missed the games of the day. But Lucius was alive at least. You dreamt of his kiss but when you woke up you had an odd sensation in your stomach. Confusion filled you and then… ache.
As you brushed your hair, you got lost looking at a red candle. It had been a present from your father some years ago. A red candle to be lit whenever you felt like you needed to feel love, he had said.
The wise emperor had wished to see his daughter with her true love. Just like had always wanted but couldn’t.
There was a broad shadow that you spotted through the mirror. It made you pull out a silver knife and point a the figure.
Soon the cape was removed and you sighed but also gasped shocked to see Acacius standing in the middle of your room.
“What are you doing here?” You asked worriedly, standing up and hurrying to close your windows.
“You had spent all these past nights in the Colosseum,” he said, sounding a little angered.
“Now you’re spying on me, Acacius?” He sighed exasperated.
“What are you doing with that gladiator?”
“What do you care?” You asked with defiance.
“He’s going to get you in trouble, princess y/n” Your eyes pierced his, but you decided to move away, leaning against the towers of your bed.
“He deserves more. And not only him, but every slave we brought and all those we left in ruins” you admitted, looking at the fire of the candle.
“They do, but it’s not our duty, at least not yet. We need to focus on the plan we have…” you wanted to roll your eyes and yell at him, his wife could’ve ruined everything and he was only paying attention to you.
Only paying attention to you?
“Stop going to see that man”
“His name is Hanno and I’ll visit whenever I desire” you spit out with bitterness and you knew he was angry. Acacius clenched his jaw and sighed once again. Under his cape rested his armor, his hair messy, and his scars fading.
“Why? Because he makes you feel things?”
You remained quiet. As simple as it was, his question took you by surprise.
“I-… I don’t know. I had no reason to go back to him, but I did it anyway”
“Oh heavens, y/n. Don’t you see that I’ve always told you to wait? Because I’m counting every golden coin I have to give you that house on the island you always point at. To leave Rome with you…”
It took you on a curve. You didn’t know what to say, only the tears wanted to be present.
His hands found your hips and his lips seek yours. Sometimes, while being overseas, you two would argue. And the only cure was to be silent and kiss after a day of ignoring each other.
This time feels different. You feel so confused.
His forehead softly bumped yours and you two stayed like that for some time.
“If you had those ideas to fulfill with me. Why do you remain married, Marcus?” He smiled.
“That’s different, satis. I was set to marry when you were very young. I just can’t undo it.”
“Why do I feel like you’re only doing this because you feel pressured?”
“It’s not like that”
“Either way you wouldn’t tell me that you love me. So it’s in vane…”
“BUT I DO LOVE YOU!”
You frowned, biting the inside of your cheek. For a moment you thought you could only hear how your heartbeats slowly thumped. What you wanted to hear for years had been delivered. It felt good, even right to hear it. And when you were about to believe it, something clicked.
“No, Marcus. You just realized you hate the idea of me falling in love with someone else. Even worse when it’s the son of your wife”
Without the strength to say anything else, you moved away. Your feet quickly dragged you out of your room, and then out of the palace.
You walked through the streets of Rome, seeing all the hunger, poverty, the lack of love from the government.
By midnight you arrived at the shore. The warm sand cured your bolting mind.
There was an imminent battle coming up. You had a place in the rebellion. And yet you had to be only thinking in two men. Who had made a mess of you in a matter of days.
You had nothing with any of them. It was just the causality of what they made you feel.
Lucius made you feel like the woman you would’ve been if you had escaped Rome years ago.
Acacius made you feel adored like the woman you turned into wasn’t as bad as you thought. He believed in you.
But it wasn’t enough. None of them were enough. Your mind was spiraling and you realized you were sobbing in the middle of the dark. You can hear and faintly distinguish the sea. You had cracked, like the fallen fruit every poet and philosopher always mentioned.
And even when you knew you had to only focus on the war, you still didn’t know what to do. You barely knew the men that had you losing it.
_________________________
Taglist: @stargirl-mayaa @willowpains @nicolebarnes
I don’t love the ending but I genuinely don’t know who should reader end up with. PLEASE SEND IDEAS!!
#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal#gladiator ii#gladiator 2#gladiator x reader#lucius verus x reader#lucius verus#paul mescal x reader#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal smut#marcus acacius x reader#marcus acacius
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bucky barnes and his physical media
pairing: bucky x reader, use of she and girl once or twice
content: bucky is obsessed with physical media, especially photos…but he hates being in them. you try to change that.
notes: minors dni, slight smut but it’s honestly pretty tame here, some obligatory bucky angst. i don’t believe in proofreading I fear.
word count: 1.8k
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆ 。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
Growing up Bucky quickly gained a fondness for cameras. He loved to capture the images of those he loved--moments in time for which he could always look back on when he missed them.
He considered himself a confident guy and took said pictures at any opportunity he was given. He figured someone would always want to look at a face that perfect, if he could say so himself.
It was different, though, when the reflected images no longer were of the young man so keen on going to war. When the moment in time was one that could only elicit one of fear. He couldn’t recognize himself these days, not after being the Winter Soldier. The man was now adamant about not having memories that preserved him as he was now. Not when he was a shell of the man he’d known years ago.
If he absolutely had to take pictures, he was even more sure it would never be on a fucking phone. Not only are they the most fickle objects imaginable, he also hated the damn cloud. He wasn’t entirely prehistoric; he understood when people said that it was a way to store things…but a cloud. He’d had one too many mishaps with technology that things randomly disappearing from the cloud was not too far fetched in his mind. If he had to preserve something special to him it would absolutely be in an album. An album was tangible, and if it came to it, he could easily grab the stack of them in a hurry.
Physical media was absolutely near and dear to him. Whenever an old show was nowhere to be found, he clung to his DVD sets like a lifeline. The same could be said of his photo albums. They quickly became a way for him to reclaim some of the power he felt was lost with his mind. But taking pictures and storing them, to him, was therapeutic.
That's how he ended up with several albums on his shelf. Some were miscellaneous, ones that had yet to be sorted. Others solely for pictures of nature that he found calming to look at.
Nothing compared to the album he had of you, though.
An inadvertent smile would always creep up on his lips when his eyes met the spine of your album. Just the sight of your name sprawled in his handwriting was enough to make him feel warm inside. Inside were photos of you, some candid, others posed. He hated pictures, but for you he would at least attempt to stomach the feeling .
He flipped through the pages as he always did, feeling sort of proud he’d managed to take such great snapshots in time..and even more that he preserved them without the damn cloud.
Bucky made note to add more to this album; it wasn’t nearly as full as he’d like. With that, he swiftly closed the album—a gust of air causing one photo to fly out of the book. He grabbed the print that lay at his feet, not thinking much of it other than it would be returned to its rightful place among the other portraits of his girl.
As he flipped the picture, a heat quickly spread across the man’s cheeks. Oh. He definitely was not expecting this.
A selfie. Yes, that’s what it’s called. He’d learned that word a while ago. Somewhere in time he also learned that while people could be “in the nude,” they’d also referred to risqué photos similarly. Yes, a nude was how he would describe this one.
The man had seen many works of art in his day. Some of which were dedicated to his friend for his accomplishments in war. Others, of objects, like how Bucky would leisurely snap a photograph of a bird sitting stoic in a tree.
None of that compared to the polaroid he’d laid eyes on right now. His thoughts reeled in his mind, observing every detail. He knew it was hard to capture yourself in frame with these print cameras—no clear indication of what was in focus. But you were skillful.
The sun cascaded over your body, highlighting your skin in a way he’d never seen. He couldn’t see your face above your lips, but they curled in a way that seemed purposeful. How he’d do anything to see your eyes reflect the light of the sun that day. He slowly placed a finger on the photo, tracing the curve of your neck…your shoulder…your fingers.
No. He mentally groaned. The curl in your lips, a smirk, made sense now. You’d covered yourself where he wanted to see most. Hands crossed over your chest but your skin remained bare, teasing him. He felt so disgusted with himself even thinking this way, wanting to see more. It’s not like he hadn’t already, but in this moment the taunting imagery drove him up a wall.
He’s not sure when exactly he’d sat down on the couch or when his pants got to be pooled at his ankles. He’s even less certain of what time it is, but your footsteps approaching his door bought him back to reality. You’re off work.
The now strained fabric of his pants irritated him. Not only did your nude leave him extremely worked up, but he didn’t even finish before you got back.
Your voice resounded from the door, “Buck! I left the key, can you open up?”
“Coming!” He froze, an audible huff leaving his nostrils at the poorly timed reply.
He placed the photo in his back pocket before stalking towards the door.
With a swift swing, the door opened to your smile on the other side. Unlike the mischievous smirk that was printed in the picture in his pocket, this one was borderline affable. He let out what could only be described a a mixture between a scoff and chuckle.
You quirked a brow, “um, what's funny?” You rounded the space left by Bucky’s shoulders, making your way towards the kitchen.
“Nothing,” Bucky replied with a hint of sarcasm, “just had a bit of a weird day.”
“Really?” You turned to start the faucet, washing your hands before looking for something to drink. “You…wanna talk about it?”
The man felt his chest continue to rise and fall at an erratic pace. As the water continued to trickle he became painfully aware of the situation in his jeans at the present. Fuck it.
He reached for his pocket, quickly whipping the film towards your back.
He tried to level his voice in an attempt at asking his next question in the most nonchalant way he could muster. “Baby…what’s this?”
You craned your head away from the faucet a bit, “huh?” Grasping a towel, you slowly turned towards the sound of Bucky’s voice. “What’s wha- oh-”
An obvious shock appeared on your face but had he not looked close enough he would have missed it. The shift to an indifferent facial expression perplexed the man--even more when you replied in a chipper tone.
“Oh! I just got this new camera the other day at the store.” You moved past him, turning the corner and heading down the hall towards the junk closet you guys kept. He followed your movement with his eyes, stuck in place with pure intrigue. The distance and scrambling left your voice low to his ear. “You wanna see it? It's so cool and it wasn't too expensive!”
He moved back towards the couch, slouching a bit. “Sure, baby.”
Bucky twisted his head at the sound of you walking, no skipping, back towards the living room. “This thing is so easy to use, Buck. I feel like a pro like you.”
“I am not a pro,” he mumbled, his hand meeting his forehead.
He felt a hand on him, brushing his hair back. The nudge forcing him to lift his head to meet your eye. You’d knelt on the floor in front of him.
“I,” you planted a kiss on his cheek, “think you are amazing at taking pictures.” A pause loomed in the air, “but I wanted to do something for you…show you can be a great subject too.”
You placed a finger on his shoulder, urging him to lay back. “You should get comfortable, Buck…because this,” you gingerly plucked the photo from his grasp “is just the first installment to an amazing collection I think we will have.”
Bucky absolutely needed to work on his recollection skills—his ability to focus too. He again found himself with his pants down and no idea of how he’d come to be that way. This time, a cool breeze swept against his chest—his shirt somehow flung across the room. He absolutely did not mind, though.
The way in which you seemed to be skilled at everything truly blew his mind. With only a hand pumping him up and down, slowly at that, he’d found himself writhing against you. Whispers fell on deaf ears, as he’d quickly become overstimulated from his lack of release before.
“I- I-,” he stumbled as he usually did with you. There was no time when you were together when he didn’t feel at a loss for words. But here, with himself dripping all over your hands, your eyes looking at him expectantly, and your gentle lips grazing against his skin—he was struggling to even say more than one syllable.
You assured him, “it's okay, I know.” Simple words, but enough to make his insides tingle.
“Fuck…please,” he uttered your name. “I can’t-“
Your soft hands grasped his face again, a silent request for his eye contact.
It was so unfair, he knew that she knew that’d be his weakness. As quickly as it started, Bucky would finally finish. A feeling of euphoria and relief rushed the man, his skin prickly and glossed over with sweat.
“This is perfect,” he lowered his head a bit to see you back on your knees, this time holding your hands up. An arched brow raised on his face once more…you could be so damn elusive sometimes. At a further look, he could see you there, one eye closed. He searched between your hands, they were making L shapes in the air.
“Actually perfection,” you said with a flourish of your fingers. You leaned back, grasping your camera from the coffee table. “Now, be good James and don’t ruin my work.”
“I don’t know what you mean-“
Your finger met his skin, softly mixing in with the wetness now drenching his lower abdomen. He felt you marking a shape into the puddle—a heart?
Before he could even register, a flash. You’d taken a photo.
“Like I said, perfection.”
You left the polaroid beside the other on the coffee table, planting a kiss on the man's lips this time.
Bucky’s smile creeped up on his face, a happiness enveloping him.
“I think we need a new album.”
#marvel#marvel mcu#jaggedamethyst#bucky x y/n#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x you#bucky barnes x you#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x female reader
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bear with me here because i'm gonna ramble about something i've been thinking about for a while... and i'm not complaining, i'm just noticing
sometimes i think we've leaned so far into the vigilante side of the batfam that we miss out on what really makes their characters: detective work. we need more mysteries in their lives that don't lead up to some big bad "we already know who's doing it" or an "end of the world" or "yet again: this fucking guy." we need more stuff where spy movie music plays in the background and dumb adventures that don't lead up to some huge grand event with a big name villain. the shock factor stops being shocking or interesting in any capacity if we're like "Gah! the Joker! ... Again!" or whatever
does that even make sense? like "yeah sure they're blowing up a building again and there's hostages. oh look they're gonna poison the water supply." these aren't bad and that's not what i'm getting at because obviously this is a classic for comics. you need to have characters/antagonists that show up more than once and who can make a story better by being in it. and i did say to bear with me- that's because im tired. so like i hope im getting this across the right way? it's just that sometimes i don't wanna see a huge explosion, i want these motherfuckers solving a regular murder or a disappearance or regular corruption in a local office without it being tied to a grand reveal like "actually this person knows you as a long lost relative" or "they were at that circus can you guess which night they went?" that kind of thing? if you get me? like... more of the small time stuff makes the big stuff important, it makes it stand out more. at some point, the format gets repetitive even if you're switching up the villains. you can make these situations/mysteries still fun to solve for the characters and fun to read for the audience if you do it right
the concept of a detective dressed as a bat and having a sidekick in traffic light colors is inherently goofy as hell??? but that is what is so charming about it??? i think we have lost the balance between them being silly while also being intelligent with important conversations that criticize the world as we see it and teach lessons and can go over dark topics. nowadays it's always end of the world problems or just straight up the most gruesome true crime you can think of?? or they can ONLY do the dark stuff and the criticism without offering a balance of the good in the world. or we keep coming back to the FUCKING JOKER-
like yes they are vigilantes and with that comes a different level of their work, but their brand should be a mix between a black and white detective film that can get very nitty gritty and a classic spy movie, that kind of thing. at the end of the day, it's what makes them so different from the superheroes. that's what appeals to me.
seeing them in the big superhero groups is fun, don't get me wrong. it's always funny to see them standing next to people who are so powerful they never really fit in with anyone but each other, who chose to step up and use their powers for good. the Bats' specialty is Gotham and yet here they are stopping a god or whatever. and they do stop the god or whatever, all the while being an important leader and strategist to their teammates. they're important to have in these cases. but if there's a world ending event every time i pick something up, it's not as fun
the fact that they are so very human and not fantastical is why i like reading them. it's what makes the joke of people, even Gotham citizens, theorizing about them being cryptids, funny. they're fucking weird but that's because they're detectives. people who love to solve mysteries usually have a fatal flaw of curiosity. they forget the bounds between social interactions sometimes because they're used to working through problems or being intertwined with partners that understand them. but they're very much human. so human that it hurts them in many ways. and idk i've just been thinking about it lately and idk what point i'm trying to get across actually
it's just that in my eyes that's how it really is for Batman- a black and white movie narrated by a very serious man who took up a job to help people, one that has a deeper commentary on the world and viewed outwardly as pessimistic but actually has a deep hope for his city and who tries to help even the people who have wronged others. He's a stationary man in the belief that him being a constant can serve to soothe others and help them move forward. He stays in the middle of the path so he can tell everyone what is up ahead. he blends into the Gotham rainy night to serve justice but in a way that saves both the victim and the perpetrator. (the way he tucks a Robin into his cape is the same he does for Gotham with his mere presence.) and his background is actually so important to his story and yet people still somehow gloss over the lesson from it? he lost his parents because of a man who was on the opposite end of the spectrum to where he was in life. and yet he chose to help the people like the man that killed his parents. he could have done anything else with his power and money, but he instead is choosing to bring as many people up with him as he can. He's Mr. Serious that no one else can get a read on. and yet he walks into a room and he's already piecing together your life and what you're going through because he thinks it matters. he comforts people who have lost something or someone or themselves. I picture Batman and I don't picture a man trying to save the world, I picture a detective walking around a crime scene and trying to save at least one person every time he puts on the cape. and he put on the cape and became a vigilante because then he could go out of the bounds of what laws have been set up- and specifically, Gotham has other people in power who are corrupt, keeping the system that way. that's why Batman being a billionare and throwing himself into helping people at the risk of his own life is so important. he knows that if you are alive, you have something or someone to lose, no matter who you are. the dude is a bleeding heart but he doesn't know how to express it, in fear that if he gets too close, if he moves down the path with them, he'll be lost again
and then he's met with someone who should be a complete opposite, but isn't at all, because they're two sides of the same coin. his partner in crime, his son, a boy that is nothing like the black and white world that he sees. and that's the point in his life where he first sees that potentially getting lost is worth the risk. Robin is color and passion that needs guidance to move forward, but can not do so unless the stationary man learns to move with him. the kid is loud and reckless and you'd think he's from a different genre from the detective but they aren't so different, really. not when you look close enough. Dick grew up moving from place to place and seeing the world, knowing so many different people from different cultures. He's been learning to fly and jump and embrace the free fall his entire life. He's clever and he's sharp, and he thrives in the action and adventure. it's that perspective that compliments the stationary man. one is steady and the other pushes. he's the same genre but a different generation. and Batman introducing him to the way of life he chose for himself was another way he could save someone. because let's be real for a second? Dick would have gone down a very dark path had he not had Bruce, who understood, who saw not just himself in the kid but also saw who the kid has been his entire life until now. he saw Dick's parents, he saw the family he had in the circus, he saw the joy he had in what his family was doing. he saw the grief and the fire and the color that Dick's world was made of. because to Bruce, it always matters. Dick had to come to terms with Bruce's perspective to help anyone who they come across, to always give more chances, and it kept Dick from losing his color
what gets me is that the man who lives in the black and white world can actually see many different shades of gray (because black and white always needs the medium), whereas the boy in a world of color and light can get so focused on the bright that he can become single minded. and yet the boy sees a world of color and delves deeper into the lives of the peolle they come across and can be much more open minded, and the man in the black and white world sometimes forgets the shades of grey are right there. they are just like each other. they can exist without the other, but do they want to? because the black and white can be built up into the colored image, like the inking and shadows drawn on a comic book page before the colors are added in. they meet in the middle to complete each other. Bruce has been passing the story over to the next generation for a long, long time, even before his story was complete. and just like with the first Robin, it was so for every Robin afterwards. they each color in the lines differently, but that's what makes Robin so special, so unique. they are an art style that branches into their own life, but can not forget where they started: tucked into Batman's cape and the inky black of his world
and so detective work really frames their hunanity to me. the mysteries they get their hands on, the glimpses into the lives of Gotham citizens that they swore to protect, it's fascinating. it's what makes their story stand out compared to the people who can lift trucks or cast spells or run around the world in seconds. so yeah ig that's what i'm trying to say? that i want to read more of that? in both canon and fanon. cause even the small time villains we see can be like. AWFUL people and it takes out the fun of their gimmicks. and if it were any other day this would be a more coherent post but alas, it is not any other day
#tldr: we need more filler episodes#/hj but also /srs#erinwantstowrite#batfam#batfam fanfic#batman#batman comics#canon and fanon#in my eyes#bruce wayne#dick grayson#it's like that quote#“if you want to write about the impact if war you do not write from the government's perspective#you write about a little girl's shoe in the rubble of her home.“#the smallest stories can have the biggest impacts on us#gotham is so fucking weird and can be really silly#while also being so dark#and you can have the big stuff happen too#idk im just thinking today#this might not make complete sense#but it's things like that that make their rules make more sense#like no you don't come to gotham because you aren't one of us and you might misunderstand my people#you catch bad guys#we try to save them#also this did in fact give me and alighterwood an au idea#and im going fucking bonkers over that#so#yayyy
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Paige Bueckers x makeup influencer (kind of like James Charles) and they do makeup on Paige (maybe do a q&a too) or review Christmas advent calendars in a YouTube video
advent calendar ❤️💚❤️💚
paige x reader
“HEYYY GUYSS!!! it’s me y/n and im here with my beautiful, amazing, talented girlfriend, the one ,the only PAIGEEEE BUECKERS!!”
“okay okay that’s enough” paige responds trying to calm both of you down. but that failed miserably causing you both to burst into laughter.
“anyways! today we’re going to open pr packages i’ve gotten from random companies. Oh! paige and i are going to do a Q&A so if anyone wants to ask some questions go for it!”
“just not too many.” paige adds, already seeing the comments flood in.
“okay the first package we have is from Laneige!” and the first question is for paige!” your voice caused paige’s ears to perk up.
“okay so the question is.. what is your favorite thing about me?”
you quickly look at paige and smiled before opening the package.
“umm.. i’d say my favorite thing about y/n is her personality and energy.” “on the internet she has an extroverted personality and a lot of energy, but i’m actuality she’s super shy and introverted. she has such a calm energy and a soothing voice. so i would say that’s my favorite thing about her.” paige stated with a smile with blush covering her cheeks.
you look down at the box, you have the brightest shade of pink on your face and the biggest smile.
“what’cha got there” paige asks looking over your shoulder.
“oh yes, so i have this really adorable laneige box filled with lip products. they have the cute lip balms and masks which are my favorite!” you try your best not to stutter, trying to ignore the warmth in your heart.
“aw you’re so cute” paige teases you
the comments flood in
“ooooo”
“y/n flustereddd”
“i feel so single rn 😭”
“paige come home the kids miss you”
you see that comment and your eye lit up.
“yea paige go home the kids miss you.”
“people these days… jeez” you say shaking your head at the camera .
“alright alright open your packages, since i have to go home to my kids”
by now you’ve opened 5 packages and paige has answered a couple of questions.
you reach for the next box.
your eyes bright up with joy and you have the biggest smile on your face.
“AHHH ITS AN ADVENT CALENDAR!!”
“i love these so much” you exclaimed
wait why?
“uh a comment is asking you why you love them” paige said trying to read it as fast as she could.
“omg yes! i love telling this story!”
“okay so this was back in 2021, paige and i were sophomores. at the time we’ve been going out together for around 3 months. so she took me to this really really nice restaurant in hartford. it was the end of november, like before we went on thanksgiving break. we both came with gifts, i got her a stuffed husky to bring on her trip to remember me.” you start giggling feeling your cheeks becoming more and more flustered.
“and um she got… got me an advent calendar. since we would barely see each other for the month of decmeber, she said that each day i open is a little gift from her.”
“it was my favorite thing in the world. each day i would open it and i would call nika telling her the little surprise i got.”
“ever since then i love getting advent calendars because they remind me of paige.” you smiled looking at the calendar in your lap.
without saying anything paige gave you a big hug and kiss.
“i love you so much” she tells you, with hearts in her eyes.
“i love you too.”
(not my best work, but it’s a new concept for me so i’m trying my best) thank you for the great request 💜
stylist★: @heart4caitlin, @yannasuniverse, @patscorner, @pbno5, @st4rrzynight, @mrsarnold
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This assessment mostly gets it, but it glosses over another glaring problem. OP says “George would have to have an awakening of virtue.” And there lies the big problem, the other massive can of worms you have to open when you discuss GRRM:
George R.R. Martin is an agnostic. Too spineless to commit to a religion, too spineless to commit to being an out-and-out atheist. He’s a lapsed Catholic, and he makes it very clear in his books for the most part that religion = bad, and devoutly religious people = REALLY bad. The Faith of the Seven is a lazy parallel to Catholicism, and aside from MAYBE two or three people in his entire universe, all adherents to the faith are awful people. Baelor Targaryen was was a stupid zealot volcel, the High Pope Septon who reigns at the beginning of the main series is lazy, fat, and decadent, the High Sparrow and his Faith Militant are all evil, corrupt, and stupid. The Septas who serve the High Sparrow are nasty, evil bitches. The Silent Sisters exist basically as a way to punish slutty women, and no other reason at all, none. (I was not raised Catholic so if someone wants to jump in and elaborate on all the ways the Faith of the Seven fails to be a good parallel to Catholicism, please feel free.)
Okay, Visigoth, you say. But that’s his “Christian” parallel. He’s a lapsed Catholic so he has negative feelings about Christianity. What about the other religions in his universe? Well, the Faith of R’hollr, which is basically his Zoroastrian/Manichaeism dualistic religion has two main representatives in OTL: Melisandre of Asshai, and Thoros of Myr. Melisandre is a slut and a liar, and frequently lies and uses illusions to get people to believe in her powers, and her “prophesies” and visions are almost always wrong. And she’s also a dumb zealot (see the pattern here?) She has used legitimate powers once, for evil (killing Renly). Thoros has the very real ability to bring people back from the dead, but every time Berric comes back from the dead, he emphasizes that there’s nothing, no afterlife, just a void. (You get it guys? Get it? People who believe in an afterlife are STUPID! You’re a fucking idiot for believing in that). Okay.
What about the Faith of the Old Gods? The Faith kept by the Children of the Forest and the people that inhabit the North of Westeros. Maybe this one is better, it’s modeled on European pre-Abrahamic pagan belief. Maybe GRRM writes this one in a less lazy, uninformed way?
UGH. No. As someone who is a Celtic/Gemanic pagan and has studied lots of history, myth and legends around that subject, I can give my resounding opinion on this—GRRM writes his Pagan parallel just as lazily as he writes his Christian and Zoroastrian ones. The Faith of the old gods involve praying to faces carved in trees. That’s it. Nothing else. Nothing. That’s not how pagan belief worked, AT ALL. Pagan belief amongst Europeans (I know nothing about any other region so if you want to know why Aztecs cut people open and threw them down pyramid steps, you’ll have to ask someone else), if I can generalize, had several main tenets, none of which GRRM apparently bothered to research.
1). Belief in many gods who were good and benevolent, and who created human kind and the world they lived in. These gods were prayed to, made temples and altars for, and offered things like burnt offerings and libations. These gods oversaw the natural universe, i.e., crops coming in every year, thunderstorms and snowstorms, the birth of children, marriage, deaths and so on. Northerners and Old God believers do pray, but not that much, and to no one. There’s NO named gods? At all? Nothing?
2). Belief in ancestor worship and reincarnation. Uh oh! We can’t have that! Being proud of your ancestry and your blood line is for FASCISTS.
3). Priests, shamans, druids, goðis, volkhovs—whatever you want to call them. People had religious officiates. The went to them for medical aid, to officiate weddings, to bless newborn babies—all the things you go to your local pastor to and probably them some. Yes, these officiates often had hierarchical rankings—if Julius Caesar can be believed, there was possibly a “High Druid” or, if you will, a “Druid pope.” The only example we have of any sort of “higher up” in this religion is Bloodraven, and is he a noble Druid who has been bestowed higher powers? No, he only gets his visions at the expense of him painfully growing into a giant Weirwood, and he speaks in riddles and half-truths to Bran.
4). Rules and laws that governed behavior and morality (blasphemy was particularly frowned upon among Germanics).
5). Worship and veneration of lesser beings like land or water spirits. Okay, so there’s some trees with faces in them. Anything else??
6). Holidays??? Does anyone in this entire made up fantasy universe have a single holiday???? No specific celebrations that follow the strange years-long weather patterns? Wouldn’t the beginning of spring be a pretty big deal in a world where winter can last years? Where’s the summer feasting and bonfires?
7.) SONGS AND PRAYERS? I can get that maybe GRRM wanted the Old God Faith to contrast with the Faith of the Seven, which does have a “Bible” I guess (The Seven-Pointed Star) but just because there’s no written tradition doesn’t mean there can’t be any oral tradition. No prayers or songs? No harvest songs? No silly songs for children so they can learn the god’s names or anything like that?
Uh-oh! It sounds to me like that might be a little…too…dare I say it…ORGANIZED for poor ol’ George.
8.) The Afterlife. This is where I just can’t with GRRM. Beric says there is no R’hlloric afterlife, and what about an Old God afterlife? Who are all the voices in the trees that Bran hears? They’re dead Children of the Forest greenseers. Okay, so there’s an afterlife? No, you just go into a tree.
WHO CREATED THE TREES. WHO CREATED THE CHILDREN OF THE FOREST. IF THE COTF HAVE SOULS, WHAT OR WHO GUIDES THESE SOULS INTO THE TREES? WHO MADE HUMANS IN THIS UNIVERSE? WHO CREATED THE WORLD?
The Old Gods? The Seven? R’hollr? The Great Stallion? The Lion of Night? The Drowned God? Pick one, George. Pick one, you fucking fat, lazy coward.
But that’s the thing. George won’t pick one. George will never present a good, uncomplicated example of a decent, moral person from any of his religions, and he won’t flesh any of them out properly, because George thinks that religion is for people that are stupid, or people that are evil.
What’s the oldest profession in the world? It’s a shaman. It’s a person that communed with the powers on high and made known those powers to humankind.
But if you asked George R. R. Martin? He would tell you it was a prostitute.
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⛥゚・。 onigiri
synopsis: zoro's on a training binge and refuses to bathe... that is, unlesss its with you (let's be real he would absolutely do this shit)
cw: nsfw (implied), lots and lots of comfort, zoro's a little emotionally constipated, you and nami are besties, he really does love you a whole lot, etc.
a/n: just wanted to let you guys know that both this and piña colada are filler chapters in protector. i haven't posted all the chapters on here but if you wanna read it on wattpad then heres the link: PROTECTOR--wattpad
"(y/n)! You have to save us! I can't take it anymore!" Nami exclaimed, bursting into the kitchen with a dramatic flourish.
You paused mid-shaping, looking up from your rice ball and raising a brow.
"Nami? What's up?" you asked, confused, and a little concerned. "Is everything alright?"
"No... it's not..." she sniffled, walking up to the bar and taking a seat before slumping herself over the counter. "And it's all Zoro's fault..."
With a small smile, you quelled your original worries, allowing your shoulders to sink and your hands to return to their work.
"What'd he do this time?" you chuckled, carefully kneading the rice in your hands, molding it into a triangle. "Leave his sweaty towels on the ground again?"
"Worse..."
"Shook the deck by dropping one of his heavy weights?"
"Even worse..."
You hummed with thought, doing your best to recall the worst of your swordsman's many transgressions against your navigator.
"Ate the tangerines off one of your trees without asking?"
"Somehow even worse than that..."
You gave up with a laugh, unable to come up with anything else.
"I fold," you smiled, patting a thick piece of seaweed onto the rice ball. "What'd he do?"
"It's this stupid training binge!" Nami groaned, lifting her head from the counter. "He's been working out in the crow's nest for six days straight! And he's starting to stink up the ship!"
Frustrated, she slammed her fist on the wood, her grip tightening with hilarious fury.
"I tried to go up there and get him to bathe, but he completely blew me off!"
With a huff, her gaze lifted to you, and almost immediately softened, curbing her anger if only by a hair.
"You know this warrior-training nonsense better than I do... so could you please talk him into washing his ass? Pretty please!" she pleaded, clasping her hands together and throwing on her best puppy dog face. "At this rate, he's gonna fumigate the whole Sunny..."
With a soft grin, you nodded, placing your finished onigiri on a plate with the rest of them.
"I got it covered," you assured, picking up the plate and walking out from behind the counter. "Don't worry about the thing."
"Thank you, (y/n)!" she cheesed, jumping up from her seat and throwing her arms around your neck, pulling you into a tight hug. "Have I ever told you how much I love ya?"
You chuckled, using your free-hand to return it happily.
Your best friend never failed to make you smile.
"I don't think you'd ever let me forget."
"Zoro? You still in here?" you called, peeking your head into the crow's nest, the rhythmic shink of his weights letting you know he was, indeed, still in here.
Though, before you could hear a response, you were bombarded by a smell that could only come from a man immersed in his work.
'Or immersed in his musk...'
Fighting off the urge to scrunch your nose, you walked further into the room, the shadows giving way and revealing the man of the hour in all his sweaty glory, toiling away with a freakishly large and heavy weight.
"5566... 5567... 5568... 5569... 5570..."
You watched quietly, with both awe and intrigue, as he swung the weight around with perfect control, almost as if it was a training sword.
His back muscles rippled and twitched with each minute movement, stretching and flexing to accommodate the weight's large size, the veins in his forearms and neck bulging with concentration.
Not to mention his grunts of effort, which were awfully similar to how he sounded when he—
"Y'need somethin', (y/n)?" Zoro asked, ripping you from your thoughts, while still keeping up his cadence and count.
A tinge of warmth settled on your cheeks, having been caught, but you quickly shoved it away, focusing on the task at hand.
"You've been at this for a while, Zo'," you started, flying into the air and toward one of the even larger weights that sat across from him, taking a seat. "I think it's time you took a break."
"Can't," he grunted out, his swing in perfect sync. "I gotta get to ten-thousand... Then I've got a high intensity leg circuit... before I switch over to core."
'Gods...'
To, quite literally, anyone else, this workout would kill them.
"But it's almost midnight. And from what I've seen, you've only slept for two hours in the past week," you added, concerned.
"That's part of my training," he huffed, grinding out his 5863rd swing. "On the battlefield... I won't be well rested... gotta make sure I can still be at top form in this state..."
You sighed, jumping down and landing next to him.
You should've known this was gonna be a struggle.
"That, I understand... but the least you can do is take the rest of the night off. You can always start back up in the morning," you tried again, a little firmer. "Besides, you smell... over-worked."
But he, yet again, denied, this time saying nothing at all, the shink-shink of his weight filling the silence.
You huffed, cheeks puffing with frustration.
'Looks like I'll have to pull out the big guns...'
Slyly, you rested your hand on his shoulder, his movement halting and flesh tensing under your touch.
"C'mon, Zo'... just one little bath?" you pleaded, your voice lowering to a sultry tone, one you knew made him agree to almost anything. "I promise I'll do all the work... you won't have to lift a finger."
Looking at your face, Zoro couldn't help the sudden extra beat to his heart, as it was something he became accustomed to while being in your presence.
He didn't understand why his knees felt weak when you talked to him like that, or why the tension in his shoulder was magically relieved by your touch.
But what he did understand was that he now had the sudden urge to sit down.
'Dammit...'
You were dangerous.
With an "annoyed" groan, he caved, dropping his weight and allowing you to take his hand, leading him toward the exit of the crow's nest with a giddy smile.
And though he tried to mask it, he couldn't help but be infected by your warmth, the feeling so potent that he had to physically bite back his smirk.
"How's the water?" you asked, picking Zoro's discarded clothes off the ground and tossing them in the hamper as he sank into the large bath.
He let out a heavy sigh, allowing his eye to softly drift shut, "Amazing," he admitted, resting his arms on the tub's rim. "Nice 'n' hot, how I like it."
Internally, you pumped your fist in victory, covering your tracks by turning your back to lay out one of his towels.
With a grin, you grabbed the plate you'd rested on a nearby table, "Y'hungry? I made some onigiri."
He glanced at you with a slightly widened eye, pleasantly surprised.
He forgot you could cook.
Before Sanji joined up, you were the one who cooked for the crew, grilling, frying, and sauteing whatever the guys could catch.
And from what the swordsman could remember, it was pretty damn good, but he hadn't had your cooking since Water 7.
"I figured you would need a little pick me up after all that training, so I stuffed 'em full of sea king meat."
Tentatively, he took one off the plate, staring at it as if it was some sort of alien thing.
You combined his two favorite foods...
You knew his two favorite foods...
"You didn't have to do all this..." he stated, glancing up at you.
"No shit," you lightly chuckled, taking a seat on the ledge. "I know I didn't have to. I wanted to."
Sending a feather, you snatched the shampoo from the bathroom counter, bringing it back to you.
"You've been working hard... so I figured you deserved something nice."
Just as you were about to squeeze some into your hand, Zoro realized you still had your clothes on, and was suddenly confused.
"You're not getting in?" he asked, muffled by the delicious, stress-melting food in his mouth.
You paused, turning to him with a raised brow, "Did you want me to?"
And without an ounce of hesitation—
"Yes."
Your chest buzzed at his quick answer, and you gave him a warm smile before standing up and turning around, pulling off your shirt and tugging down your shorts.
And with your back turned, Zoro allowed himself to gawk freely, eyes greedily taking in the soft curves of your body as they were revealed to him.
Your hair swished past your hip as you bent over to pull your shorts off your ankles, giving him a perfect view of the globe of your ass, along with a tiny peek at your core.
'Goddamn...'
How he was going to keep it together, he had no clue.
"Alright," you sighed, carefully stepping into the water before situating yourself back on the ledge, squeezing some shampoo into your hand. "Gimme your head."
Smoothly, he moved over to sit between your legs, facing the wall as your fingers carded through his hair, massaging his scalp in a way he never thought possible.
It felt like heaven.
You let out a small chuckle as his head practically fell into your lap, heart nearly melting as his eye slid shut with a content hum.
'Adorable...'
With that as motivation, you pulled out all the stops, raking your nails through his hair, using your thumbs to massage the pressure points behind his ears, peppering kisses along his hairline.
The whole nine.
At one point, you were almost completely positive he fell asleep.
When you finished, you used a pitcher to carefully rinse the suds out, making sure all the shampoo was gone before finally sliding into the tub yourself.
But before you could do anything else, Zoro quickly grabbed your hips, carefully pulling you into his lap.
He didn't say anything, but his eyes made it perfectly clear what he wanted you to do.
And, of course, you obliged, grabbing a sponge and softly gliding it across his chest, pressing kisses on his bruises, your power healing them away.
You went on like this across his entire body, diligent in making sure you didn't miss a single one, completely oblivious to the look he was giving you, or the feeling in his chest.
It was as if you were hanging the stars in the sky right before his eyes.
The man wasn't used to so much love and affection all at once, and he was beginning to realize that he'd barely shown you any.
His heart and his head began feeling as heavy as lead, guilt digging into his chest at the revelation.
The last thing he wanted was for you to think he didn't care about you, because, in all actuality, it was the complete opposite.
"You alright, Zo'?" you asked, tenderly cupping his cheek in your hand, brows furrowed in concern at his sudden shift in expression. "You want me to stop?"
"No," he firmly assured, adjusting his grip on your waist and abruptly hiking you up higher on his lap.
You let out a small yelp of surprise at the sudden movement, though your attention was quickly stolen by the man staring up at you, his eyes swimming with hesitation and uncertainty.
Smoothly, one of his hands slid up to the small of your back, his thumb drawing small, anxious circles on your flesh.
"I..." he paused, taking a few more seconds to gather his thoughts. "I'm not good at this..."
Your face fell almost instantly, confused, "What are you talking about?"
"This," he clarified, glancing at the bath, shampoo, and empty plate. "Gestures... romance... it's not exactly my thing."
He let out a sigh, the sound, along with his expression, making it clear that we was beating himself up over the matter.
"But I want to try... for you..."
A warm smile settled on your lips, his honesty both incredibly appreciated and incredibly admirable.
His communication skills had come a long way.
"Can't promise I'll be as mushy as Curly Brow... or the gentlemen Nami thinks I should be—"
"You wouldn't be you if you were," you assured with a grin, resting your hands on his chest. "If I wanted a mushy, gentle guy, I'd pick up any guy on the street. And you, Zoro, are not any guy on the street."
You let out a small chuckle, resting your forehead on his.
"Besides, I like my guys a little rough."
"Oh, do you, now?" he smirked, teasingly, his hand coming around to cup the back of your neck, pulling you close.
You let out a happy squeal as he pressed his lips against yours, your body melting into him instantly.
As you relished the feeling of his strong hands gliding against your skin, you kissed him back, using your position on his lap to get the angle on him and further deepening the kiss.
Both of you were outpouring gallons upon gallons of emotion, the atmosphere so heavy and passionate that as far as you both were concerned, there was no one but the two of you on the ship.
Though, to Sanji's severe disappointment, and Nami's severe annoyance, it was not just you two on the ship.
You and Zoro's little After-Bath "party" in the bathroom was heard by everyone on the crew (except for Chopper, thankfully), and marked the last time Nami ever asked you to make Zoro take a bath.
#one piece#one piece x reader#roronoa#roronoa x reader#roronoa zoro#roronoa zoro x reader#zoro#zoro x reader#zorosangell#op
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after you find out they cheated (nct dream)
►ot7 x reader
► angst!! some (very minute) fluff, cliff hangers..
►read part 1 here!
►a/n part 2 as requested!! although this was def not what some wanted i think this turn off events is much better. please enjoy and lmk if u do
MARK
After the dispatch rumors, Mark’s name trended on social media for the remainder of the month. Seeing his face constantly had upset you tremendously to the point where you had to mute his name and every nickname given to the boy.
You two had not talked since he admitted to you over text he had cheated. He made many attempts to come over and make amends but to no avail, you paid no remorse to his actions. Truthfully, Mark was the love of your life and you dearly wanted to give him a chance considering he was trying his best to set forth with your relationship, but something about you couldn’t let him off so easily.
Throughout the course of your relationship with Mark, he had always said you “were the one” and you shared many intimate moments together. Now, as you watch him through your doorbell camera making his final attempt at reconciling, you decide it is time to finally communicate your true feelings.
He had approached your front door with flowers and a box of your favorite chocolates along with other of your most beloved items you enjoyed. His eyes swelled with tears as he began to stutter words when you opened the front door.
“Y-y/n,” Mark faltered in shock that you opened the door before he even had the chance to knock. “I have a lot to explain, just please listen-”
You laughed, surprised he thought he even had a chance, “Mark, you know what you did was wrong and nothing can change that. Look, I didn’t answer to hear you out, I answered to tell you I’m over you and to stop bothering me.” Your eyes watered as you made eye contact with the boy that was once your lover.
“You know it’s just Dispatch,” he asserted, “None of that was the truth, you know this. Please, just listen to me, I can explain everything to you even if you don’t want to hear it. Don’t just throw away years of us for something so stupid.”
You gasped, shocked that he would claim this was stupid, “There’s nothing to explain to me, you fucked up and this is over. None of the shit I’ve seen about you this month was stupid. I’m not dumb, Mark, don’t treat me like this. You don’t deserve a second chance.”
Mark tried to speak again but you immediately shut him down with the palm of your hand signaling him to stop. Maybe you would give him a chance another day but this wasn’t the time. You never accepted the gifts from him as you shut the door in his face.
As months went on after your final encounter with Mark, he made no other attempts to reunite with you, accepting you were ready to move on to someone better. No texts, no knocking on your door, no phonecalls, no contact at all. Your life with Mark was over for good.
RENJUN
When Renjun had admitted to you he cheated, you didn’t believe his words at first. He had to be joking, I mean who was he to cheat anyways? He was always loyal to you and never failed to ensure you were the number one thing in his life. What could possibly bring him to cheat on you?
“Renjun, what are you talking about?” you questioned, trying to come up with some explanation for his infidelity.
He couldn’t look you in the eyes as he confessed, “You know Yeji? My new coworker? We were at a holiday party and I was drunk and you know how the rest played out.”
You couldn’t believe his words. Renjun was always the type to inform you of every event in his life. When he had told you about his annual holiday work parties, he always invited you, this year was the first you had heard nothing. As you came to the realization why, you finally connected the dots.
Even though Renjun excused himself by offering that he was drunk, this wasn’t a drunken mistake. Renjun was intentional with his actions. If he had intended not to invite you in the first place, his objective was clear he was trying to get in Yeji’s pants.
Not a single bone in your body felt remorse for the boy as you came to comprehend his efforts to cheat on you. “Get out,” you stated strictly, offering no emotion for Renjun to crack.
“Y/n, just give me a chance. I’ll make it up to you,” he began to plead, clutching his fingers together to create a dramatic effect. Nothing could make you forgive him.
“Renjun, you knew what you did. You’re better than this and I deserve better than whatever is going on with you,” you attempted to excuse his infidelity. Renjun had always been truthful with you and although his activities were clear, you had wanted to give him a chance despite your brain telling you not to.
Renjun simply nodded your head at your statement, beginning to get out of your once shared bed and gather his belongings. He didn’t speak a word as he stuffed his suitcase full other than, “I’ll get the rest of my things later.” He didn’t though, after that night he had left for good.
He never texted you to gather his possessions or make amends. You went on for weeks of no contact and eventually trashed his uncollected belongings due to the high level of emotion they caused you. Not wanting to make the first text, you waited and waited for him to make a move.
Eventually your waiting had done you justice has you finally received a message from your ex-boyfriend.
renjun: y/n
renjun: let’s talk
JENO
After many failed attempts of trying to make Jeno offer some sort of apology for his actions, he eventually started ghosting you as a whole. You couldn’t believe he could once be so loving and switch so easily to being the toxic ex-boyfriend he would shame before.
The I love you’s turned into Leave me alone’s as you constantly tried to confront him. During the course of your relationship, you two had moved in together and when he cheated on you he made no attempt to move out - simply inviting other girls over without a care in the world.
Luckily, you two had separate rooms but this didn’t change the fact you could still hear the banging of his bedframe against the wall from one of his many one night stands. One night you had gotten so agitated by his thoughtless actions and confronted him about what was going on.
“Jeno,” you barged into his room, interrupting whatever fuck he had going on. “I’ve had enough of this.”
He pushed the half-naked girl off of him, slowly making his way to throw on a shirt, telling the girl to leave. She scoffed at you limiting her time with Jeno but quickly put on her scattered clothes, leaving your shared apartment. “Y/n, what the fuck is your problem,” he expressed angrily, clearly upset that you would interrupt such an intimate moment.
“Look Jeno, I don’t know what the fuck is going on with you, but I’ve had enough of it. Either you stop with this or you leave. You were the one that fucked up. Figure out your life,” you finally stood your ground. Jeno had always been dominant in your relationship, and after your “break-up” this prevailed.
He constantly made you feel bad about yourself, blaming you for “not being good enough” as the reason he had to cheat on you. Yeah, this hurt like hell. However, you were desperate to make Jeno love you again, even if he had acted so wrongly.
Jeno rolled his eyes at your scolding, “If you want me out y/n, so be it. Just know I won’t come back.” He shut the door in your face as you listened to him slam drawers and punch the wall in anger.
You ran back to your room and shut the door behind you, sliding down it as tears began to blind your eyes. What had happened to Jeno?
The next morning you woke up with no trace of Jeno to be found. He offered no explanation for what had changed him so tremendously but you figured you would find out when you received a knock on the door from Jaemin, Jeno’s best friend.
You answered the door reluctantly, scared Jaemin would make a comment on your puffy eyes and dishelved features. “Jaemin, what’s wrong?” you questioned, taking in his appearance. He seemed to be in the same situation as you, noticing his freshly awoken demeanor.
“Y/n, we need to talk. It’s about Jeno,” he sighed, stepping into your apartment.
HAECHAN
When Haechan saw the look on your face after you discovered him cheating, endless apologies left his mouth. He had never seen you so upset and angry with him, he admitted he deserved your backlash.
Even though he was quick to beg for your forgiveness, you never offered it to him, opting to move on instead. You were petty and getting back together with Haechan would not be the power move.
Although you had made it clear you were over Haechan, you never made an official attempt at breaking up with him. Instead, you had simply ghosted him as you didn’t want to make any contact with your so-called ex-boyfriend. This, instead, led you to have even more difficulties moving on as you felt remorse hooking up with other men due to some sort of tie still being connected to the boy.
Months went by and all the efforts you made to sleep with random strangers were ruined as you felt a constant cloud of guilt hanging over you. You tried to get over him by getting blackout drunk at random parties, knowing sober you would make no effort to move on. You were unsuccessful most nights but one night you were finally convinced it was your time.
Unfortunately, the guy that you landed with in bed was only victorious due to the similar features he shared with Haechan. His hair, his voice, his eyes - everything reminded you of him. Yeah, you had technically not gotten over him, but it was a start!
You were gracious enough to recognize this was a lead in the right direction as you had finally slept with another guy since your relationship with Haechan “ended.” Though, as you began to sober up as you awoke from your one night stand, you couldn’t help but notice the man in your bed appeared too close to Haechan.
As you took a closer look, your suspicions were confirmed. You were back to square one.
JAEMIN
Following the numerous days you had left your shared apartment with Jaemin, he began to grow concerned for your being and where you were staying. You had opted to reside in your best friend's house as she was the only one kind enough to offer you a place to stay.
Jaemin knew you lacked options to inhabit for the time being and was quick to conclude your location. No longer than two days of you staying there, Jaemin had made his way into her apartment with a bouquet of roses, reciting the speech of apologies for you to hear.
“Y/n,” he sighed, moving closer to you when you opened the front door, “I know you want nothing to do with me, but I have a lot of explaining to do. I’m so sorry for getting upset at you, you did nothing wrong. Please forgive me.”
You laughed in his face. Did he really think you would forgive him so easily? “Jaemin, I can’t believe you right now. You owe me a lot more than this,” you asserted.
He knew you would be reluctant to accept his expression of regret but he knew he could convince you no matter what it would take. “I’m willing to do whatever it takes,” he breathed, handing you the flowers, “please give me another chance. I’ll show you the world.”
It’s crazy to think the way his final sentence could be perceived so differently. Once you had viewed the words as a way of him expressing his love, now it was simply his manipulating attempt to win you over.
Although you were upset with Jaemin for his actions, you couldn’t hate him. You had loved him for months on end and it would be difficult to get over such emotions in such a short time period. You allowed his manipulation to work on you as you offered him a second chance.
You two continued your relationship for months, rebuilding the connection you once had, this time with more caution. As you began to fall in love again, you couldn’t help but wonder who the girl he had cheated on you with had been. This prompted you to begin searching his phone for clues on who the mistress could possibly be.
When you arrive upon your best friend's name in his recent text messages, you ponder what the two would be conversing. As you scroll through their texts and see the endless meetups and shared intimate texts, the story finally clicked into place.
CHENLE
After Eric had shown you the texts he shared with Chenle, he was quick to console you over your ex-boyfriend. You had scheduled a meetup with Chenle immediately after and broke up with him, offering no time for an explanation from him. Eric and Yuna had been good friends of yours for years, you knew everything they told you was the truth with no sugarcoating.
As time went on, you and Eric’s relationship began to prosper into something more, sharing many endless night together but never making it further than a few stolen kisses. A couple weeks after your break up with Chenle, Eric had attempted to ask you on a date but you were quick to deny him stating that it was too early for him to make a move.
“Y/n, I don’t understand. Were those drunken nights nothing to you?” Eric questioned, angered you could deny him so easily.
You shook your head, upset that he would be so ignorant to ignore your emotions. “You know I just got out of a relationship, Eric, those nights meant something I’m just not ready for commitment yet.” Truthfully you never felt much for him when you were dating Chenle, but due to his chivalrous acts of exposing your cheating boyfriend, you had gained some attachment to the boy.
Eric accepted your explanation but still attempted to win you over multiple nights in a row. Eventually, you fell into his trap and accepted going on a date with him. As you delved into a new relationship with Eric, you couldn’t help but feel as though something was off.
Yuna wasn’t very supportive of your relationship after a couple weeks of being with him. She noticed a change in your attitude and offered no reasoning of why she further began to distance yourself from you two. The three of you were inseparable for years so you figured she was just beginning to adjust to being a third wheel.
Though something about Yuna’s lack of support for your relationship with Eric struck a nerve inside you, you couldn’t help but feel there was an underlying message behind her actions. When you received a message from the girl, you were in for a ride.
yuna!!!: don’t hate me but eric lied about chenle
JISUNG
Accidentally live streaming is one thing, having a girl speaking in the background is another. Netizens were quick to spread rumours about who the mysterious voice was in Jisung’s accidental live stream. You were also curious as to know what Jisung was truly doing in that moment of vulnerability, but when you sent him various concerned and aggravated messages, you realized none of your texts were delivered to his phone. Jisung had blocked you.
Being an idol means strict punishment from companies - and under the circumstances Jisung had fucked up, he was in for trouble. Of course his managers were aware Jisung was dating you, so they were quick to assume the mystery girl was you. Due to this, they were punished Jisung by banning all contact he had with you. This led you to having no reasoning for what was going on that day.
You attempted to contact his members but they made no effort to offer you any explanation either, most likely scared they, too, would get in trouble. If you weren’t terrified of the company, you would reach out to his managers yourself, but you had heard of the things they did to idols and you didn’t want to risk any chance of communication you had with Jisung.
After months of no contact with the boy, you finally began to accept he wouldn’t be returning back to your life any time soon; however, when you received a letter in the mail from Park Jisung, a sliver of hope ran through your veins that this chapter of worrying would finally come to an end.
As you opened and read the handwritten letter he had graciously sent, your eyes began to shed tears. In his heartfelt letter, he sent numerous apologies and explained the girl in the video had been one of his cousins, he was simply hanging out with family and didn’t tell you because he wanted to surprise you with a gift she had intended on giving you.
Although you were reluctant to believe such a fallacy, you knew Jisung better than anyone else, he had to be telling the truth. The only problem was, that there was no way to contact Jisung other than via the mail. Even though you had found out the truth, what was the cost?
#nct dream x reader#nct dream fluff#nct dream imagines#nct dream#nct dream angst#mark lee x reader#mark lee#mark angst#jeno x reader#lee jeno#jeno angst#huang renjun#renjun angst#haechan x reader#renjun x reader#haechan angst#zhong chenle#chenle x reader#chenle angst#park jisung#park jisung x reader#park jisung angst#na jaemin#jaemin x reader#jaemin angst
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another success story you don't need
if i am going back to my journals, notes, and vision boards to see which manifestations have come to fruition, i would say i have achieved most of them. this year, i received the phone i wanted for years, i traveled abroad, i bought the clothes i desired, i worked with amazing people and learned from them, and so much more.
i don't usually answer asks because i would prefer to make a post about it, so here it is. someone asked me if i have had any success with the law, and if so, what they were, since many bloggers fake their success stories.
but does it really matter at all? i understand that people get their hopes up when they see another big, successful manifestation. but in the end, it does not matter when it all comes down to disciplining yourself.
do you think these people who achieved their big manifestations constantly search for more techniques or success stories? no. they do not need them because they understand the law.
so, they apply the law.
i am not talking about just manifesting a specific thing or person you want. this is a life-long journey. you cannot simply manifest a phone and stop manifesting. manifestation is automatic. it always happens. if it didn't, you would not be here at all, and you wouldn't have any experiential reality.
everything is a manifestation, whether you prefer it or not. you don't need another "proof" that it works. it is always working. all techniques, all methods, all tools work because you give power to them. they don't have power on their own. the power comes from you, and you give meaning to them.
be your own success story. you cannot truly live the success story you see from others if you continue needing just one more "success story" to discipline your mind.
#law of assumption#neville goddard#self concept#loa#loablr#affirm and persist#reality shifting#desired reality#bashar#manifestation#manifesting#law of attraction#shifting#consciousness#spiritual awakening#glow up#that girl#divine feminine#high value woman#self worth#adulting#success story#4d reality
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