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bvidzsoo · 1 year ago

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Grease and Oil

⨳Mechanic!Mingi⨳

TW: cursing, smut wrap it before you tap it

Word count: 5,6k

A/N: I don't think I'll ever let go of bleached spikey haired Mingi. It changed something in me, I'll never be the same. I have nothing to say except...why did I even write this? Song Mingi stop haunting me, thank you. It's not the best, but the best I can write lol. Feedback is very much appreciated!

The smell of grease, oil, and gasoline weren’t something unfamiliar to me, nor were they nauseating. It was something I was used to. These were familiar scents; scents which I have started associating with home. Cars, too, were something I associated with a feeling of familiarity, of something dear to me. Walking inside my father’s car service was like a second home, a place I knew like the back of my hand. I wasn’t huge on fixing cars, but I knew a few things here and there. Despite my father’s attempts at making me a great mechanic one day, I struggled to understand the in-depth parts and mechanism of a car, therefore I settled on appreciating their beauty. Can’t say my father was too happy about it, but his concerns faded away when I found a path for myself. I applied to a college, choosing to study literature as I struggled finding anything else I liked. Perhaps creative writing was a subjected I happened to enjoy too, but I had no idea where my degree would take me one day. I had no intentions of teaching English literature, the children these days were awful and very disrespectful. My short temper would’ve surely gotten the worst of me if placed in a situation where I had to deal with rude kids. And so, I settled on reading my books and pouring my feelings out into short poems when I wasn’t at college. Or by wasting my time away at my father’s car service. It’s not like I had anything better to do—I actually did, but procrastination is my best friend. Besides, most of his employees are above the age of thirty-five, and two of them I have known since I was a little girl, they could be really fun to hang around…and it’s not like I would often stop by because my father has an employee who is barely a few years older than myself. And it’s definitely not because he is the hottest man alive I have ever seen. He’s a tall and lean guy, his posture immaculate with his shoulders always pulled back, his long legs worth envying and shoulders so broad you could hide behind them and nobody would see you. In the summer, he usually wears tight tank tops, showing off his humble muscles, biceps finer than most guy’s of his age. And his pants, which are fireproof, cling onto his body, showing off his narrow waist. This guy was a sight for sore eyes and I couldn’t blame the few ladies who would occasionally stop by, completely taken aback by this guy’s visuals. It wasn’t fair that he had a perfect body, especially when his face was good-looking too. God sometimes had favorites and Song Mingi definitely was one of them with his long nose, sharp eyes and cherry red lips, a singular mole underneath his left eye decorating his flawless skin. His personality also made him desirable and that just made him a dangerously charming and handsome human being. Perhaps my frequent visits to the service during the summer were sort of his merit too, not just the want to spend some quality time with my father as he spent little time at home. I knew he was busy; I couldn’t blame him. His service was one of the best in our little town and money didn’t just magically appear, you had to work hard for it and that’s what he did, he worked his ass off all the time. The fact that he has employed Song Mingi was just the cherry on top, the little motivation I needed to perhaps learn more about cars.

I was settled on top of my father’s working desk, tools pushed to the side, feet dangling as I watched him work on a car’s engine, getting more and more furious by the second as he couldn’t find one missing screw. I watched quietly as his phone rang again, making him sigh loudly before he straightened himself up and took the call, eyebrows furrowed. It was a hot summer day, the AC did little to nothing inside the hot service, and the use of different electrical tools only created more heat inside the spacious room. I had started fanning myself, overhearing my father make an appointment as an obnoxiously loud engine whirled past the entrance to the service, making my heart skip an excited beat. It was lunch break, and Mingi had just returned from eating his meal. He was gone by the time I had arrived; I was rather lazy this morning and thus didn’t bother getting out of bed before 12 pm. My father turned towards me as he finished his call, looking rather irritated. It wasn’t directed at me; however, I still knew a lecturing would follow because I sat on his tool desk…again.

“Get off, Y/N, I asked you so many times not to sit there,” He sighed tiredly as he headed for the exit, “I have to examine a car, are you coming to the front?”

Certainly not before I have seen Mingi, “I’ll wash my hands first, they feel slimy, meet you at the reception, dad.”

He nodded once and hurried outside, phone already ringing once again. Summer seasons were always busy, work pilling up quickly. I started fanning myself with my hands as another heatwave hit me, making me sigh. Not even a tank top and shorts were enough to stop me from sweating buckets. I pushed my hair behind my shoulders and gripped the table, about to jump off it, when the man I stayed behind for finally showed up. He walked through the open garage door, having to duck as it wasn’t raised enough for his towering height. He had his back to me as he walked inside, carrying two boxes, muscles of his arms bulging as a few guys greeted him, instructing him where to place the boxes. However, nothing could’ve prepared me for the wave of shook which rooted me to my spot. My mouth hung open as my eyes remained trained on Mingi, and I could only hope nobody noticed my shameless gaping. Three days ago, when I have stopped by last, the man’s hair reached his shoulders almost and was a faded light brown. Now, his hair was completely bleached blonde and stood up in all places, spikey. A hairstyle definitely shouldn’t have made my tummy do flips, yet I had nothing to swallow as I watched Mingi laugh with a fellow mechanic, explaining something to him animatedly. His black tank top was tucked inside his beige pants, a black belt holding it against his hips securely. A black bandana was tied to his left bicep and I licked my lips as my eyes ran over his frame, stopping for a second too long on his ass. Perhaps crawling onto the wall sounded like the most normal thing to do right now. Just as I was about to look away, the man he was talking to briefly glanced at me and Mingi suddenly turned his head, eyes falling on me. Looking away right now would mean admitting that I had been staring at him, so I forced myself to smile nonchalantly at him and blame the flush on my cheeks on the extremely hot weather—which combined with Mingi’s presence only made my body heat up even more. I didn’t want to admit it to myself, but I’d do anything to get railed by Mingi while he wore his working clothes with grease smeared on his cheek. My heart skipped a beat as a lazy smirk appeared on his lips as he took off towards me, making me gulp in panic as I straightened my posture.

“Hello, princess.” He called once he was close enough and I rolled my eyes at the nickname, acting as if I totally hated it. It did bother me at the beginning when he started calling me that, but I didn’t mind anymore. And it certainly shouldn’t have made me blush.

“Hi, Mingi.” I greeted him back, smiling as I crossed my legs and leaned forward, holding myself up by my hands. My knuckles hurt from the grip I had on the table, but I ignored that.

“What brings you here today?” He asked nonchalantly, crossing his arms in front of his chest. I didn’t want to look, but his biceps were bulging and I’m just a simple woman, “Thought you washed your car when you stopped by last time.”

Ah, yes, the good old excuse of washing my car when it didn’t need washing yet. To be fair, I had a cleaning problem so that was the main reason why I washed my car so often, Mingi being here was just another thing to motivate me to stop by more frequently.

“I did, I’m not here for that.” I admitted, clearing my throat as Mingi’s sharp eyes narrowed slightly, mischievous glint appearing in his eyes. He hummed shortly, the sound deep in his throat, reminding me how hot I found his raspy and deep voice. He had once whispered in my ear as he snuck up on me, wanting to scare me, and I swear to God, I almost reached Heaven that day.

“Are you here for me then?” The cute pout of his lips and the finger he pushed against his cheek definitely didn’t match the sultriness of his words and the look in his eyes. It made me take a deep breath as I forced myself to roll my eyes, embarrassed that he had a feeling I was only here to see him. I mean…I did wear my favorite off-shoulder top just because I knew we would see each other.

“Why the sudden change of hairstyle?” I decided to change the subject, but it only made Mingi smirk as he looked at me almost victorious, almost as if he knew I didn’t answer him because he was right. Mingi ruffled his already spikey hair with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Just wanted something new,” He answered, “besides, it’s so hot these days, my long locks only made me sweat more. I feel like a new man right now. What do you think, do I look nice?”

Nice was little said, I would’ve described him more like: hot, sexy, attractive, gorgeous, mouth-watering, “Yeah, you look nice. It suits you.”

Mingi smiled happily and bowed lightly before his phone beeped. I didn’t understand how a man like him could be so cute while looking like a Greek God. My eyebrows slightly furrowed as I watched Mingi chuckle and smile down at his phone, quickly typing something on it. Perhaps he was seeing someone? Of course, why would a man like him be single? It shouldn’t come as a surprise; I should have thought about that sooner. But then again, he never mentioned a significant other. With a sigh, I jumped off the table and dusted off my shorts, running my hands through my hair. Mingi paused, looking up at me through his long lashes. I forced a smile on my face, suddenly discouraged by my own thoughts, as I grabbed my phone off the table.

“Got to go, dad’s waiting for me.” I mumbled as Mingi’s eyes slightly narrowed, eyes swiftly running over my body. He nodded wordlessly and I turned around, taking off towards the exit.

“That top looks really nice on you.” My steps halted for a second as I looked back at him and chuckled before exiting the garage, walking towards the reception, ignoring the butterflies in my stomach at the simple compliment. I should probably download a dating app and find someone available to obsess over.

The blaring music and blinding disco lights in the living room were becoming too much as my tipsy head swirled around like a disco ball, throat parched up and dry from the lack of water. Certainly the amount of alcohol I have had was enough for the night as I pushed people out of my way, slightly wobbling as I headed for the kitchen, desperately needing water. A super rich guy from college threw a huge ass party and invited some guys over from our college, one of them being one of my close friends. I wasn’t one to turn down a good party, and when the alcohol was free, I would certainly attend it. Seonghwa and I had teamed up and played beer-pong together, kicking Wooyoung and San’s asses, but losing to Hongjoong and Yunho. We should have known better not to challenge those two competitive monsters. All in all, the night was fun and after having lost Sooyoung to some hot guy, I hit the dancefloor with Wooyoung and San, the three of us dancing our hearts out to every song. After a while, I grew concerned and started calling Sooyoung, making my two dancing companions almost take my phone away after six missed calls. But it didn’t take long for Sooyoung to finally text me, telling me she was upstairs with a Yeosang named guy smoking some weed, and that she’d be down in no time. I rolled my eyes at the text, huffing as I handed Wooyoung my phone to take care of. My skirt had no pockets and I forgot to bring a fanny-pack, I have grown tired of holding my phone, Wooyoung’s back pocket would do the trick until Sooyoung returned and I could give my phone for her to put in her little purse. The music wasn’t as loud in the kitchen as it was in the living room and it was also less packed, which made me grateful as I walked over to the window and pushed it open, smiling contently at the cool air which hit my face. I certainly needed to cool down. I grabbed a red cup which looked relatively unused and filled it with tap water, downing it in mere seconds only to fill it up again and again until I felt satiated. I threw the cup away and leaned against the counter, holding my thumping head in my hands as I closed my eyes for a second, thinking it would help. But it only made me more nauseous and I quickly opened my eyes as I massaged my forehead, still leaning slightly over. Somebody next to me asked if I was okay and I quickly nodded, telling them that I just needed a moment to regain composure again, and I’ll be off dancing once again. However, a weirdly familiar deep voice suddenly filled the kitchen, some high-pitched giggle following straight after the ridiculous joke the guy told. My nose scrunched up at the very cheesy pickup line which followed and I snorted, unintentionally catching their attention as they didn’t stand too far away.

“Y/N?” The deep voice asked surprised and my eyebrows furrowed as I finally raised my head, smoothing down my hair as it fell in my face.

“Oh, Mingi.” I muttered just a little surprised by his presence here. I wondered how he knew about the party, however, the black-haired girl by his side was a tell-tale. She was a student at my college and she was pretty as fuck. I sighed, and unintentionally glared at her, unimpressed by her presence next to Mingi. It’s not like I knew her well to form an opinion about her, but personally, I didn’t like her that much. Especially since Mingi seemed to be here with her. My eyes fall back onto him and my brain blanched for a second, never having seen him outside of the car service up until now. Him not wearing his tight-fitting clothes was something new and I couldn’t help but let my eyes run all over his body, taking in the sight in front of me. He wore a loose-fitting white t-shirt, the front slightly tucked inside his grey ripped jeans which were baggy. He wore a black pair of convers, and a black fanny-pack was pushed around to his backside to not bother him. However, what made me take a second to process what I was seeing were his accessories. His necklaces were layered as he wore a red braided like material which sat snugly against the base of his neck, then a silver chain followed, and a silver cross which reached just bellow his collarbones. His wrists were decorated with silver chain bracelets, matching the chain around his neck and he wore various rings, some bigger than the other, his right-hand sporting four meanwhile his left three. If all of that combined with his hair wasn’t enough, his fingernails were also painted black, albeit already coming off in some spots, but still painted black. He was a sight for sore eyes and it took everything in me to not grip his arm and walk us upstairs, completely disregarding the girl he was here with.

And she just had to speak up, “Oh, you two know each other?”

“Yeah, her dad’s my boss.” Mingi answered before I could and I raised an eyebrow as the girl took me in, unexpectedly smiling at me as she placed an arm around Mingi’s shoulders. My jaw tensed subconsciously and I licked my lips as I leaned back against the counter, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

“We go to the same college,” She told Mingi, offering her hand to me, “I don’t think we’ve ever really introduced each other, though. My name is Jennie, I’m Mingi’s cousin.”

“Cousin?” My eyebrows raised as I shook Jennie’s hand, “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Unfortunately, yes.” Mingi playfully pushed Jennie off himself as he answered my question and Jennie just rolled her eyes.

“Whatever, giant, if I leave you alone with Y/N, will you behave?” She raised her eyebrows threateningly at Mingi and he just chuckled, raising his hands in surrender.

“I always behave.” He defended himself quickly, but sounded like he didn’t mean it at all.

“No, you don’t.” Jennie rolled her eyes then looked back at me, “I have to find my boyfriend, he’s somewhere here around, probably drunk off his ass. If Mingi bothers you, just knee him in the stomach really hard and come and find me, I’ll kick his ass for you—”

“I’m right here, you know.” Mingi rolled his eyes and ruffled Jennie’s hair, “Get lost before I chase you away.”

Jennie scoffed but walked away after she waved at me, leaving me alone with Mingi. My hostile behavior slightly dropped, but I couldn’t help look at Mingi with narrowed eyes. I knew what I heard while I was fighting the urge of throwing up. Why would anyone flirt with their cousin? That was disgusting.

“If Jennie is your cousin…why would you say a pickup line to her?” I couldn’t help but ask him accusingly. It made Mingi laugh as he stepped closer, smiling cheekily.

“Eavesdropping, weren’t you?” I opened my mouth to deny his claim, but Mingi didn’t let me, “First of, ew, that’s literally my cousin do I look like I fuck with family? And second, that pickup line was actually sent by someone whom I have been talking to, and I was just reading it to Jennie.”

“How many girls are you talking to currently?” The question tumbled past my lips before I could even think about it. I only could blame the alcohol for making me so straightforward and embarrassing.

“Wouldn’t you like to know…” Mingi chuckled and stepped closer, invading my personal space. I gulped and pressed myself harder into the counter, hands coming to grip the edge of it. A smirk appeared on Mingi’s lips as he leaned down to be eye level with me, eyes searching my face before they settled on my lips briefly. My head was spinning and perhaps I was seeing things, but his tongue poked out for a second, “You look really hot.”

I gulped and let out a quiet breath, looking down at myself. The leather skirt clung onto me like a second skin and the flower decorated corset did little to nothing to cover what I would usually hide. It was Sooyoung’s idea to dress up like this, she wore a matching set except her corset was green meanwhile mine pink.

“Uh, thanks.” I whispered and didn’t dare move as Mingi lowered his head even more, looking through his lashes as he looked me in the eyes. He’s never stood this close to me before; it only now made me realize the height difference between us. And I couldn’t help but faintly smell gasoline despite his strong cologne.

“Dressed up for someone?” He muttered and I felt a warm finger lightly trace the skin of my right arm. I gulped nervously and ignored the goosebumps on my skin.

“I didn’t know you’d be here—” I tried changing the subject, it seemed to be a habit of mine lately.

“But if you did know, would you have dressed up for me?” Mingi’s raspy voice whispered in my ear as he leaned closer, my mouth opening without a sound coming out. My tipsy brain didn’t exactly know how to function in that moment and that meant I had nothing to say. But as he pulled back, we made eye contact, and his intimidating gaze pulled an answer out of me instantly.

“Yes.” I would totally hate myself in the morning for admitting that, but I couldn’t help myself. Not when he was standing so close and saying things like that. A smirk pulled onto Mingi’s lips and suddenly his hand raised as he gripped a strand of my hair lightly and twirled it around, brushing it behind my ear. I watched him mesmerized, body slightly trembling because of different things. The opened window brought in the chill breeze and we stood close to the it; Mingi’s closeness and touch made me want to crash my lips against his, and I was fighting every fiber in my body to stop myself from doing that, thankfully not tipsy enough to lose all rationality.

“I think I know about your little secret, princess.” Mingi’s tone was playful as he suddenly cupped my cheek and tilted my head back, hovering his face over mine, eyes tracing my features slowly. I hoped my red lipstick wasn’t smudged and that it would be smudged in no time.

“What secret?” I asked confused, biting my lower lip as Mingi’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed, his fingers slipping towards my nape as his thumb pushed against my cheek.

“About your little crush—” He barely whispered, eyes on my lips as my mouth parted, heart beating like crazy, “on me.”

Before I could answer him, his teeth caught my lower lip between his and he sucked on the flesh, making my face flush as I mewled, hand holding onto his waist for more stability as the counter wasn’t enough anymore. He held eye contact as he released my lip and I felt like crumbling onto my knees and giving him anything he wanted as my grip tightened on him, head pulled closer to his by the grip he had on my nape. Mingi’s lips barely brushed against mine and I tried to close the impossibly little distance between us, but he just tsked and smirked.

“Good girls eventually get what they want, princess, be a bit more patient.” I couldn’t help but groan in frustration as Mingi released me and took a step back, smirking as he swiped his thumb over my lower lip, smudging my lipstick. I threw him a glare, but he just laughed and then turned around and walked off with a cup he grabbed off from the counter. I couldn’t help but lick my lower lip, pressing a palm against my racing heart as I tapped the sweat off my forehead, needing another cup of water to cool off.

And I didn’t even have to wait for too long. Four days after the party, my father asked me to stop by the car service because he couldn’t decide what color to choose for the tuning he was doing for one of his friend’s car. I couldn’t have been happier to stop by as I made it my personal mission to stay away from that place for as long as possible, embarrassed by what happened between Mingi and I at the party, but also because I wanted to torture him a bit too. I could only hope he yearned to see me as much as I yearned for him. My father was out, having to pick up some pieces in the nearest city, which was half an hour away, so that meant he’d be gone for approximately an hour and a half. Everyone was gone by now from the car service as working hours were over, everyone except Mingi, of course. He had to catch up on his work as he had to skip a day for some undisclosed business. And yes, Mingi should’ve been working right now on that old car nobody actually wanted to fix, but here he was, balls deep in my pussy, thrusting into me like his life depended on it. I guess he was just a simple man too, and he fell exactly into my trap as I walked through the garage door wearing my little sundress, high heels elongating my legs. It didn’t take long for Mingi to stop whatever he was doing as he dragged me to the backroom, where there were no cameras, and pushed up on the table, wasting no time in undressing himself and working up the both of us. My head was thrown back from the constant pleasure his movements brought, his length reaching places no one else has before, my right hand gripping his bare waist as I rolled my hips to meet his thrusts. Mingi was biting his lips hard, holding onto my hips as I had to hold myself up with one arm, muscle straining with each strong thrust. Perhaps I should have expected him to be vocal, but the whines he would let out every now and then only turned me on even more, dragging my own moans out of me. Grease stuck to his left cheek, just underneath his mole and his already sweaty body from working was glistening once again, smelling strongly of the substance he has been working with to clean rims of the old car.

“I bet you’ve been fantasizing about me fucking you covered in grease and all sweaty from the long day I’ve had.” My only answer was a loud moan as he hit the sweet spot which made me see stars, and for a second, all I could hear were his own pants and the table squeaking louder and louder with each thrust.

“You have no idea—” I moaned as I clenched around Mingi, mind blanching for a second as he hit that spot again, “How fucking hot you look—like this.”

My fingertips dug into his hips and Mingi suddenly leaned down, pressing my back flat against the wooden table, rotating his hips as he suddenly slowed down. My mouth opened in a gasp and my legs went around his hips, one hand tangling in his blonde spikey hair as the other went around his shoulders to anchor myself. Mingi groaned in my ear as I clenched around his length again, his thrusts painfully slow on purpose, making me try to move my hips, but he had me pinned down by his heavier body.

“Fuck, please—” My whine was muffled by his lips as he pressed them against mine, pushing his tongue past my lips as I kissed him hungrily, wanting to feel more and more of him. Our lips moved messily against each other as Mingi slightly quickened his pace, but it still wasn’t enough. My eyebrows were furrowed as it started becoming unbearable and I whined, pulling my head away and choking on my words for a second, “I’m going to fucking die if you don’t go faster.”

I couldn’t believe Mingi had the audacity to smirk as he bit my lower lip harshly, making me push his head away as he chuckled amused, fake pouting at me.

“Thought I said good girls get what they want—” He completely stilled, bringing tears into my eyes out of frustration as I gripped his nape, trying to move against him to no avail, “And you’re being rather impatient right now.”

But before I could say anything, the slightly stood up and pulled almost fully out before slamming in again, his pace relentless and thrusts sharp as he threw his head back, moaning, making me grip onto his lower arm as he hit my g-spot over and over again, making my back arch as broken moans left my lips, nails digging into his skin. I was going fucking insane as his thumb found my clit and he started rubbing circles on it, making me cry out as I felt my orgasm building up, ready to snap any second as Mingi’s moans got higher and higher, my walls clenching tightly around him, bringing him closer to the edge as well.

“Fuck.” He hissed at a particular sharp thrust, his hips almost stuttering but I managed to meet his movements, desperate for my own release as I clawed at the wooden table, back arching as the pleasure became unbearable and the knot in my stomach snapped, making me let out a high-pitched moan, only for Mingi’s lips to muffle it as his hips stuttered, his own release following mine, filling me up. My body trembled and my lungs heaved for air as I came down from the high, our lips touching with Mingi as we both panted into each other’s mouths. His scent was intoxicating and I couldn’t help but burry my head into his neck and lightly bite down on his perfect skin, making him shudder. He didn’t pull out yet and I felt him twitch slightly, making me chuckle.

“So, I’m hot when I’m all sweaty and covered in grease?” He spoke up, voice raspy, and his words made me laugh as I allowed my head to rest against the wooden table, throwing an arm over my eyes. I could feel Mingi’s smile as he pressed a kiss against the corner of my mouth, swiftly pulling out.

“I said it once, I won’t say it again.” I peeked at him as he quickly pulled up his boxers and tight pants, adjusting his tank top.

“If I knew all I had to do was change my hairstyle for you to finally let me fuck you—” Mingi shook his head as he helped me off the table, smirking when I had to lean against it for support, my legs having gone numb, “I would’ve done it a lot earlier.”

“Perhaps if you weren’t so oblivious,” I threw him a glare and pulled up my panties, adjusting my dress, “You would’ve noticed how badly I wanted you since the first time I laid eyes on you, idiot.”

Mingi laughed and threw an arm around my shoulders as he pulled me into himself, “Now that that’s out of the way…do you want to date or do you want us to just fuck?”

His question made me pause as I looked up in his eyes, biting my lower lip in thought, “You want to go out with me?”

“I sure do.” Mingi said it like it was the most obvious thing, then he jutted his chin towards mine, “What about you?”

“What do you think?” I asked with a chuckle.

“That we should go for a second round—”

“Mingi!” I pressed my palm over his mouth and threw him a little glare, “My father could be back anytime, you know. And yes, I do want to date you. Unless you’re always this annoying.”

Mingi fake laughed as he pushed my hand off his mouth, “Aren’t you just so funny?”

I stuck my tongue out at him and he tried kissing it, making me yelp and push him away, which made Mingi giggle as he placed his hands in his pockets, “So, tomorrow at six?”

“But you better shower before you come pick me up.” I pointed a finger at him as we went to leave the room.

“I thought I smelled hot—”

“You can’t smell hot, so just—” I sighed and looked at him, “Just—dress up. You—I mean, you know, you looked really good at the party. I haven’t seen you out of your work clothes before.”

“Aw, aren’t you so shy right now and stuttering all of a sudden?” He cooed and poked my cheek, “As if I wasn’t inside you—”

“Y/N, you still here?!” I heard my father’s voice shout from afar and I threw Mingi a warning look as I pushed him away. He walked towards the car he had to fix defeated, throwing me those sad puppy eyes and a pout as my father walked inside the garage.

“Hi.” I waved at him and he smiled, glancing at Mingi.

“You can fix it tomorrow too, you know?” My father said as he went to put his own utensils away. Mingi hummed but said he didn’t have much until he was done, liar. My father glanced at me and I looked away from Mingi, smiling at my father innocently. He just shook his head and threw his keys at me, making me clumsily catch them.

“Go pick up your mother, I’ll stay behind and help Mingi fix the car.” He muttered tiredly as he walked up to my soon-to-be-boyfriend, oblivious to what Mingi would soon become to him as well. Not just an employee, but perhaps a part of our family too. I jokingly saluted my father as I stopped in the doorway, turning to look at Mingi, who was already watching me.

“Goodbye, Mingi.”

“Bye, Y/N.” Mingi tried to fight the smile off his lips as I turned around and ran off with a giggle, cheeks burning suddenly with embarrassment.

Good girls eventually get what they want, don’t they?

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lubilli · 1 year ago

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𝗸𝗻𝘆 𝗵𝗰𝘀 ➠ "cutie!"

synopsis: the hashira men when you call them cute/a cutie

ft. rengoku, giyu, sanemi, obanai, muichiro, tengen

warnings: they're all softies here 💔

r. kyojuro

• he was training while you were watching

• "you're doing so well, kyojuro!"

• he was all blushy cuz u complimented him

• he's used to compliments but it just felt different when you did it

• maybe bc you never really compliment anyone

• and maybe bc he has a praise kink

• "awww, kyojuro, you're such a cutie!" you squealed when you saw the pink dusted all over his cheeks

• his brain almost short circuited

• not even joking

• he's been complimented on his looks before.

• he's been called handsome, good looking, but...cutie? that was a new one

• "kyojuro? are you okay?"

• "yes, y/n! i am completely fine!"

• he said that while his cheeks literally looked like tomatoes

t. giyu

• you just got back from a mission looking half dead

• when giyu saw you, his face literally looked like this -> 😨

• how tf did you even manage to hurt yourself this bad..

• he DEMANDS to patch up ur wounds

• that brings you to your current situation, sitting on giyu's bed while he tends to the wounds

• you winced when he got to a certain cut on your thigh, he glares at you

• "you wouldn't be in this situation if you weren't so reckless, y/n." he scolds you

• you just laugh, "you're cute, giyu."

• it takes him a while before he realizes what you said.

• "did you call me..cute?" he furrows his brows

• "yes..because you are cute."

• continues tending to your wound even though he's literally dying inside

s. sanemi

• he's so aggressive its so hard to find him in a vulnerable state

• ur literally the first hashira to see him all calm

• when he's not screaming and yelling, he's actually really cute

• he loves cooking for you

• he's doing that rn

• "is it good?" he asks

• "it's a little salty..."

• "why can't i ever get this recipe right?!"

• he's so frustrated

• he's tried to cook this one recipe 5 times now but there's always a little too much of a certain ingredient

• you chuckle at his reaction & ruffle his hair

• "you're really cute, y'know?"

• wtf did u just say

• did u just call him cute...

• "WHAT'D YOU JUST CALL ME?!"

• those manic eyes found their way back onto his face

• he's yelling at you but you can see the pink dusted all over his cheeks

• you started calling him cute more often

• acts like he hates it but he literally loves it sm

i. obanai

• you started getting close to him recently

• you found out he actually really likes poetry

• you'll just be sitting under/on a tree and he'll be reading his lil poetry books while you're just dreaming

• you think its so cute when he shows you lil poems he really likes

• "this one reminds me of you" he points to a poem on a page

• you shift your attention from the clouds to his book

• it reads, "A faint clap of thunder,

Even if rain comes or not,

I will stay here,

Together with you."

• bro.

• you died

• why is he so cute sometimes

• scratch that, he's always cute bro

• you smiled so big, "you're really cute, obanai."

• you moved a strand of his long hair and tucked his behind his ears, seeing his beautiful heterochromatic eyes.

• he looked at you with so much love bro

• "cute?" he tilted his head

• "yes, so cute."

• he's a mess but he just nods and continues his reading

• although he literally can't focus bc ur now the only thing on his mind

t. muichiro

• you don't know how you even got close to him

• but he will NOT go cloud-watching without you now

• takes you to his favorite spot

• he just talks abt the clouds while you mess around with his hair

• sometimes braiding it, sometimes doing pigtails or ponytails

• "woah," he stares into the sky with awe

• "what happened?" you ask

• "that cloud looks like a turtle." he pointed

• you looked at it and it really did look like a turtle

• "oh and look, that one looks like a heart." he pointed somewhere else

• wtf hes so cute

• "so cute," you squish his cheeks

• he looks at you dumbfounded

• takes him 4-5 business days to process what you just said

• when he realizes his cheeks flushed pink

• he's literally never felt this before

• wtf type of witchcraft did u put on him

• you tilt your head, "what's wrong, muichiro?"

• "i don't know, but my cheeks and ears feel really warm."

• you laugh, "you really are cute, muichiro." you ruffle his hair.

u. tengen

• you and tengen are close friends

• his estate is like your second house

• started getting close to u bc ur flashy in his eyes

• then he got sent on a few missions with you and your bond grew even more

• anyways you were in tengen's estate rn

• "tengen," you frown

• "hm?"

• "my stomach hurts."

• he frowns, "should i get you a heating pad? do you want water? medicine? chocolate? massage?"

• you smile, "its fine. no need."

• "yes need. i'm not gonna let you endure your pain, y/n. that's very unflashy." he crosses his arms

• "you're such a cutie, tengen."

• he lifts a brow, "cutie? yes, i suppose being a cutie is very flashy." he nods. "now, tell me what you want—heating pad, chocolate, medicine, water, or massage?"

• "you're so stubborn." you shake your head, "but a chocolate sounds nice."

• "done deal. stay here and i'll get you some."

• he came back w some delicious ass chocolate

• "call me that more often. its very flashy."

• "call you what?"

• "cutie."

• you smile, "your wish is my command." you took a bite of the chocolate.

• he pat your head, "get well soon."

3K notes · View notes

syneilesis · 11 months ago

Text

[fic] if only for a moment

if only for a moment

Love and Deepspace | Rafayel (Qi Yu) x Main-Character!Reader | T | 3.6k words | ao3 link (with correct formatting)

Rafayel waits. And waits. And waits.

A/N: Another LaD fic!! This time it's Rafayel. Several elements of this fic are inspired by and loosely based on his story anecdotes and bond story, plus that Deep Sea card line backdrop. So more spoilers in this one, I'm afraid. I think you need to be aware of them in order to follow the flow of the fic. But if not, here's what you need to know: basically Rafayel accepts a visiting professorship at the University of Linkon to reunite with the MC/you. And the prose poetry interspersed are loosely situated in the Deep Sea card lineup setting (you can search in YouTube for the scenes. This one is a brief glimpse of the scene). That princess/knight(??) dynamic is yum yum.

If possible, please read the version on AO3. I formatted the prose poems there as if they're really prose poetry, so I'd appreciate it if you check that out. (Though there isn't too much difference between the formatting here and there, I did make the effort of coding a little 🥺)

Anyhoo, hope you enjoy, and I am sO STOKED FOR THE OFFICIAL RELEASE. rip my wallet 💸😭

JUST LOOK AT THIS MAN AND BELIEVE

There’s a type of berry in a distant land that produces a rare shade of ink that matches the color of your eyes. It takes a hundred of them to create the right hue and volume for the art that he wants to make. It comes to him in a dream: endless desert, then fireworks of verdant sparks that coalesce into stem, leaf, and, finally, fruit. Rafayel remembers that land, so much different from the iridescent blue of ocean underwater, and the acrid gold of the barren desert. His mouth filled with the succulent sweetness of the dream, the lingering sandpaper roughness of the berries on his fingers. He already knows the name of the artwork even before he’s begun—Waiting, Missing. The ache in his bones gaining form, an intangible thing taking flesh.

Under the ocean surface, time is muted, a deafening thickness that surrounds you with its ambiguity. On land, however, it is linear, and fast, and in a matter of blinks, Rafayel’s visiting professorship nearly wraps up.

He’s only glimpsed you once or twice. Thrice at most. The university is big, but not big enough to warrant a dearth of fateful encounters. The first time he saw you it was at a coffee shop: walking along with your friends outside, your voice mellifluous and festive wafting through the trellis of the café entrance. You were talking about him—well, about Lemuria to be specific, but these days any talk of Lemuria inevitably draws in his name.

He’s committed your schedule to memory, and yet it just seems impossible to capture a moment with you. Even just a brush of shoulders, or of sleeves—an asymptote of contact. Just navigating around your orbit, but never truly meeting.

What would it be like—finally talking to you? You in front of him, face to face? Rafayel imagines the ache of waiting fading into the background until it’s completely gone. He yearns for that feeling, the release of it. A conclusion—or maybe even a beginning.

i. take my hand, he told you under the glow of the lustrous moon, the only source of light that contoured the secretive valleys of his face. i want to show your highness something. there was a country, he said, beyond the undulating monochrome of the desert, blanketed by lush trees and shrubberies and flowers that buildings were made in betwixt and around them—a nation of trailing and winding architecture, a marriage of the natural and the manmade. you wanted to ask why he’d planned on taking you there, and the only answer you got was a curt turn of his head and the profile of a masked man layered by shadows and distance. it would have been nice, you thought, if the moon poured light upon his hooded gaze.

Eventually he begins to frequent the café. Twice a week at first—he doesn’t want to come off strong right away, of course—and then making his way up until he’s hanging out there more than his own studio. He schedules his visits around your classes, always during the ones when the probability of you dropping by the café is high and he can ‘coincidentally’ be around the same area. It’s gotten to a point that Thomas calls him out on it, and nags at him to focus more on his painting. The next exhibit is immediately after his visiting professorship after all.

“From where I’m standing,” Thomas says, “you’re not painting at all.”

Rafayel ignores him.

Five minutes later, he says, “Not painting is part of the painting process.”

Thomas rolls his eyes, but he leaves him to it.

At the café, Rafayel attracts curious looks. A few attempt to approach him, but he pretends not to see them. They linger around the periphery, like moths to flame.

And then something happens: the entrance door chimes, and you swan into the coffee shop, earphones and denim overall skirt, the kind of rosy-cheeked image Rafayel finds on teen magazines, wide-eyed and earnest. You fall in line and order when it’s your turn, and your eyes sweep across the packed café searching for a vacant seat until they finally land on him.

Rafayel’s heart stumbles.

Up close, the baby fat on your cheeks still gives you the appearance of being younger than you actually look. You turn a polite smile his way, and his heart stutters again—but this time it is taken as a warning.

“Hi,” you say, tentative. Any hint of recognition absent. “Do you mind if I sit here?”

ii. you're counting the steps of your inevitable parting. you're at the edge of the desert, far away from your home and its familiar scents, oriented towards a direction that promised a future sad memory, the gentle warmth of his hand, the downward denial of his gaze. this longing that grew out of your bones, aching during cold, aching during heat, aching when he looked at you with such tenderness he had to hide it through the sharp tug of your joined hands, the long strides that opened up a lonely distance. intimacy was dangerous, knowing was dangerous, the bowels of his heart like a solitary flower on a high peak. what would you do to such loneliness?

Memory isn't always an infallible thing. The human brain cannot hang on to every moment of your life, though Rafayel wishes it were so. But still—to think that you would forget him, and it hasn’t even been a century. You were like a phantom thief stealing his heart in the night—no recourse, no resolution.

To wait is to be in agony, the burn of yearning locked within the heart. Rafayel has been waiting for a long time, and the only memory scorched in his heart is fire, the blaze and its blinding, all-consuming want.

What would you do to such want?

You have a blurry childhood, Rafayel discovers. After the first Wanderer descended on Earth, the incident strummed your memories like a stringed instrument that tired of the same chord, over and over. It had bothered you at first—not being in control of your own memories—but eventually you had learned to live with it.

“Grandma and Caleb—my childhood friend—helped me through the process,” you tell him, stirring your iced mocha with its straw. “I owe them a lot.”

Eyes cast down, but still the melancholy shadows remain in your expression. Rafayel folds his arms on the table, and leans closer.

Around them only a few people occupy the coffee shop at this time. How fortunate for Rafayel to catch you during your break while every other student is trapped in class lectures.

“There’s no use in dwelling upon what's already happened. Even sharks have to give up when their prey escapes. When you remember, it will be all the more joyous, no?”

The smile you give him is crooked, disbelieving.

“If I remember.”

“You’ll remember.” Because there’s no other choice, for you and for him. Rafayel cannot bear being shelved in the history of your smile and happiness. Waiting can only be endurable if there’s an endpoint.

In his studio, Rafayel begins his next painting.

iii. the berries tasted sweet, with an edge of sourness that clung to the bottom of the tongue. it had the exact shade of your eyes, a detail that rafayel brought up the moment he plucked it from the shrub. raising it to align with your eyes, comparing them with his artist's meticulous gaze. maybe when this is all over, i'll go back here again to extract ink from these berries, and paint a portrait of your highness using these to color your eyes. he never showed you any of his paintings, merely mentioned them in passing, and you constructed a dream of him from the throwaway words that left his covered lips. i'm not used to sitting for so long, you reminded him, and he glanced at you, then at the berry between his fingers. my memory is enough, then handed you the fruit.

In the few weeks of meeting with you Rafayel forgets that his visiting professorship is ending soon and he has to give out his last lecture. Thomas had asked him what his topic would be. At that point Rafayel had no answer. But now he has.

“I’ve been hearing you talk about Lemuria every now and then with your friends.” He props his cheek on his hand, tilting his head slightly and giving you a charming smile. “Interested?”

You blink. “How did you know?”

“Oh, I’ve seen you a couple of times here, and I happened to hear your friends chat about my lecture. Your points were almost accurate, I’m in awe.”

“The visiting professor—that’s you?!”

Rafayel pauses, the slosh of his drink nearly spilling on his frozen hand.

“You didn’t know?”

Sheepish, you say, “Honestly, I didn’t make the connection. Is that why plenty of people have been glaring at me as of late?”

He releases a frustrated sigh, eyes rolling heavenward.

“In any case, my final lecture is on Friday next week. It’s titled “Memory and Meaning in Lemurian Art”. Why don’t you drop by and listen, and you can tell me what you think afterwards.”

You retrieve your bullet journal to check your schedule. It’s colorful, filled with stickers and doodles that Rafayel finds endearing. Then the excited moue on your face drops into a frown, and Rafayel can foresee the next words that will come out of your downturned lips.

“I’m sorry,” you say guiltily, “but I have a major test that day, and I need to get a high score in order to pass the course.”

Rafayel exhales, long and weary, but ultimately shrugs off the apology. “What a shame, but I forgive you. Just don’t fail your exam or else my magnanimity would be all for nothing.”

He calls Thomas that night.

“I’ll disappear for a while once the professorship is over.”

“Hey, wait, what do you me—”

“You’ll be happy to know that this is for my next painting.”

A beat. “Okay … but for how long?”

“That’s the question, isn’t it?”

Then he hangs up.

He’s trying, he really does. The lecture ends to a resounding applause, and it’s mechanical how he answers the questions posed by the audience. But he’s trying, he’s trying. There’s no specter of you in the sea of faces in the auditorium. You’re at the other end of the university compound, sweating your way through your exam. He genuinely hopes you’d pass, for your sake.

Thomas had booked his flight to another country, where he’ll traverse to a land that he’d visited many times in his dreams and had woken up with a filmy, sweet-sour tang at the roof of his mouth. He’ll leave the morning after the closing dinner party the faculty has prepared for him. There isn’t time to pack much, and no time to tell you goodbye.

Rafayel guesses that it’s only fair: how would you feel waiting for him at that café, the chair across you empty, only the sunlight pooling from the window as your companion?

iv. parting, somebody once said, is such a sweet sorrow. much like those berries in that ever-green nation, a lingering sourness remained underneath, the sting of it reminding you every now and then. he was already mourned for even before he left. tell me what it's like—the ocean. he was elusive, untouchable in his grief. you'd heard through whispers, the story of his migration, the drowning before the drying, the unwanted journey. grief brought him to you and grief would steal him away from you, you knew, down to the cells of your body and the hopelessness in your blood. —and yet. and yet you wanted to have a taste of it, anyway.

The ever-green land is no longer green, or lush, or alive. Time corroded it into memory, sepia-faded, wizened. Past. The berries he’s searching for don’t grow here anymore. Everything here is empty, barren, helplessly so.

Rafayel hasn’t accounted for such development, but he should have known. Disappointment stings at his chest, and bitterly he turns away and stays at the next town over. At a family-run restaurant situated near the outskirts, he looks over the wide windows, across the highway road, beyond the jagged horizon. The painting won’t be finished, then. Another tragedy, pressed flat next to the forgetting, to the waiting, and his home.

The chef personally serves him his order and, after a shuffle of hesitation, brings up a question.

“Young man, you came from the direction of the old country, yeah?”

Rafayel meets his inquisitive gaze. “Yes, why?”

“It’s been a while since we had someone visiting that place. There’s nothing in there anymore, it’s been that way for years. Why did you go there?”

Rafayel is reluctant to say, but at the guileless set of the older man’s face, he concedes.

“I was looking for berries. The ones native there. They produce a shade that I need for my painting.”

At the mention of the fruit, the chef’s expression lights up. “Oh! I see, I see. You’re in luck, son. We grow them here at the farm. Plenty of those for everyone. How about I give you some? It’s rare meeting someone who still remembers the old country, it’s almost fate. How many did you say you need?”

Fate. Just like the time of your first meeting, as if the universe had gifted you to him. Just like the time of your parting, of your forgetting, of his waiting. Fate as a connection from you to him, red and burning brightly.

He doesn’t want to seem eager, but he knows he’s failed from the way the chef toothily grins at him.

“A hundred or so.”

The chef falters at that, jerking slightly back. But he accepts it with a nod, an avuncular smile making its way across his kind, powdery features.

“That sure is a huge number, but I think we can work something out.”

His painting takes a month to complete, inclusive of the time spent making the ink from the acquired berries. Sometimes, Thomas watches him paint, quiet in the background. His stays usually don’t last—a quick flash that Rafayel nearly misses, or deliberately ignores. But during the final stages of the painting process, Thomas hands him the exhibit details.

“I’m just thankful you’re on time for this one.” He sighs, relieved, then leaves.

Alone, Rafayel creates. Brushstroke after careful brushstroke, each varying by pressure and angle. He lets each layer of paint dry before moving onto the next. The berry ink—the color of your eyes—the solely different element of this painting. Center, central. The focal point. The beating heart. The years and years of waiting and longing. The form and the flesh. Alive.

This, too, is an endpoint.

v. can i see your face, just this once? your hands grazed his mask like a ghost wanting to touch. rafayel stayed still beneath your desirous fingers, observing, waiting, his own fingers twitching towards his dagger. even in the parting he could not let go of this distance. hopeless, hopeless. your highness would get nothing out of seeing my face. he's wrong, his eyes never left your face, and he's wrong. he didn't stop you from your grasping of his mask, and him—finally—bare and beautiful yet a little sad. you're wrong, you said, tracing his slightly parted lips with a trembling finger, you're wrong. it is everything to me.

The gallery is packed. No surprise there. It’s almost boring, in a way. Waiting, Missing hangs at the farthest hall in the floor, special and intimate as it should be. Thomas knows him well; otherwise, Rafayel would have whined at him to hell and back just so he could be granted this demand that is in reality a mandate.

He’s hiding from the throngs of journalists and art critics alike and sequesters himself in a corner that has a clear view of the painting. Loosening his collar and tie, Rafayel breathes and closes his eyes, leans tiredly against the wall. A few more minutes, and he’ll slink out of the building, reputation be damned.

He melts into the shadows whenever somebody passes by. He has neither time nor energy interacting with people today. Watching them through half-mast eyes, Rafayel stays in his secret place and studies with weightless detachment the people looking at the painting.

He’s made a bet with himself about the opinions of his followers and admirers. Who thinks what and why. It makes for great entertainment. The last time, a fresh-faced critic praised Rafayel’s technique as “innovative and a soul-rending reflection of the prodigy’s character.” He had laughed and laughed for hours until he couldn’t breathe any longer.

Another walks by, and before Rafayel retreats further into the corner, he glimpses a familiar gait and a familiar face.

His heartbeat races. He’s never told you that he’s holding an exhibit today. After the professorship Rafayel failed to maintain communication with you, convincing himself that it’s for the best that he protect you from afar that day onwards. It didn’t help that he had to leave as well. At the same time, you never made an effort of reaching out, and Rafayel thought that it was back to square one again, that waiting, that yearning.

But here you are right now, elegantly dressed, like someone gliding out of a dream. Rafayel swallows, his hands shake. You do not have someone else with you, and your eyes are brightly focused on Waiting, Missing, and for a fleeting moment your expression flickers into longing, strange and old and battered and sad, that it compels Rafayel to take a step forward—to you.

“Hey.”

The curious look vanishes; left no traces in your delighted face, as if it wasn’t there in the first place. “Rafayel!” you exclaim. “Long time no see! Congratulations on the exhibit; these are all beautiful.”

Outwardly he smirks, belying the torrential emotions he’s currently going through. He cants his head a little, works his charm on you. “Impressed? No need to hold back your compliments.”

Laughter, prismatic and crystalline. “Yes, yes. Especially this one—Waiting, Missing. What an interesting title. At the center, what paint did you use?”

Ah. Rafayel inhales before answering. “It’s actually ink. I had to make it from a hundred berries. It was a tedious process, but I wouldn’t use anything else. It has to be this, you see.”

“Whoa, no wonder you’d been radio silent all this time. You were creating this masterpiece.”

He hums, afraid that, if he speaks, he’d reveal too much.

“Well …” You throw a playful glance at him. “Shouldn’t we celebrate your success?”

His breath catches. “I—”

Before he manages to finish the sentence, a journalist calls out to him and that summons plenty more, swarming him with no chance of escape. It pushes you out of his peripheral vision, and Rafayel wants to shout your name, but you smile and gesture at him to entertain them first. You mouth, I’ll be back, and wander around other paintings some more.

When he finally succeeds in shaking the journalists off, he seeks you out and stumbles upon you near the exit, where there’s fewer people to pile on him.

“Excellent,” he says, sidling up beside you. You turn to him and smile, and there’s that lightning-flash of something again. For one unbelievably surreal instant, Rafayel thinks that despite your hazy memories, maybe you’d been waiting for him all this time, too.

And that thought emboldens him, moving closer and closer until your bodies almost touch. An asymptote of contact. But this time, he has mustered the courage to close that unbridgeable gap.

Rafayel offers you his hand. “Let’s get out of here?”

You stare at his hand then at his face, his eyes, and a meaningful moment stretches between you and him. But even before the idea of retracting enters his mind, you grab his hand joyfully, grinning ear to ear. His heart warms, full with everything.

You squeeze his hand, ready to go. “Lead the way, then!”

vi. a kiss is a greeting and a goodbye, and rafayel tasted of ferocious tides even if you'd seen them only in dreams. his eyes closed, as though savoring his last moments with you, guarded till the bitter end. would that i could ask you to stay—with me. but he shook his head—a final rejection. maybe in another life. there was nobody to watch you cry, in the after.

Rafayel is working on a new painting—a portrait this time. The model squirms on his couch, obvious about the discomfort of posing for too long. He huffs a laugh to himself, hidden by the canvas strategically placed between them.

“I heard that,” you grumble.

“Shush, you’re breaking my concentration.”

“If that already breaks your focus then I pity the rest of the art community.” A beat, then: “Is it done?”

“Patience, my dear muse. You need endure it a little more.”

“Hmph, fine. But after this you’re treating me to an all-you-can-eat buffet.”

“All right, all right.” He shakes his head, fond. “My muse, so demanding.”

Something sweet touches the edge of his tongue, succulent with a hint of tartness. Like longing. Except now, it’s layered with something new and exciting. Something like a new beginning.

In the far distance, the sea murmurs, lit fire by the setting sun.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace fic #lad rafayel #lad qi yu #love and deepspace rafayel #love and deepspace qi yu #fic #my fic #rafayel x reader #qi yu x reader #lad rafayel x reader #lad qi yu x reader #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace spoilers #it's near midnight again i shall now sleep

452 notes · View notes

reiniesainyo · 9 months ago

Text

IN BETWEEN. charlie bushnell x reader – 03

03 | ENCHANTED previous | next | masterfile

SYNPOSIS. when a girl's co-star is good to her and now she wants it more than everything in between. (smau)

A/N. i'm going through a rough / stressful period and i find this series and writing it very therapeutic so here we are! this chapter takes place around episode 7 release, i'm not really inclined to write about the filming in between for some reason (unless you'd be interested)

liked by walker.scobell, thelnarchives, and 262,287 others rickriordan With the release of the new PJO series on Disney+, I'm happy to announce that to celebrate I've partnered with some of your favorite authors and close friends of mine to present to you all a new look into the lives of our favorite demigods!

WHAT IT MEANS TO BE A HALF-BLOOD will go online for free this February 20, 2024!

Click the link in bio for more info! PS: A sneak peak from our writers on the other slides

thelnarchive ... WHAT THE??? i have to manifest a chapter for my girl, manifesting a chapter or more please or even just one mention ↳ iamcharliebushnell YOU DIDN'T KNOW EITHER?????

user1 HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT????

user2 1) more stories about characters and 2) WRITTEN BY OTHER AUTHORS???? WHO COULD BE IN THIS PROJECT ↳ user3 i'm manifesting a story about tahlia and jason as kids oh my god

iamcharliebushnell imagine releasing a whole anthology to celebrate? that's the best author right there

user4 ohhh we're eating so good

walker.scobell another book and there's still not enough percy jackson in this world keep it coming i love your work ↳ aryansimhadri Imo too much percy maybe some more grover ↳ leahsavajeffries wrong there should be more annabeth

dior.n.goodjohn the gc going wild with this news

🃏 @CHILDOFHECATE what are your guys guesses for the stories in what it means to be a half-blood??? 🗨 32 comments 🔁 150 retweets ❤️ 456 likes

user1 a jason and tahlia story about them as kids, just a delve into their childhood

user2 more stuff on luke and rina, as individuals and as a couples- like i totally see a luke perspective on some situations or a conversation they had being in the book ↳ CHILDOFHECATE honestly i think it'd be so cool if they went like contemporary and also gave us maybe a poem or transcript / screenplay of a conversation between luke and rina

user3 stories about annabeth, tahlia, and luke's time before camp maybe fighting monsters together or just trying to survive ↳ user4 watch me cry over this one

user5 i just see a lot of delving into the lives of the original trio and also like the original supporting characters to like tahlia, luke, rina, even rachel

user6 grover's childhood! i really wanna see that or some parts of the story from his perspective

user7 Angst.

liked by iamcharliebushnell, aryansimhadri, and 320,372 others thelnarchives celebrating with the half-bloods

iamcharliebushnell when you're so excited over new lore you go and have dinner to talk about it ↳ thelnarchives this means so much to us

user1 YN IN THE SECOND SLIDE OH SHE'S GOREGOUS

user2 her face card never declines ↳ user3 it even has like benefits and a perfect credit score

dior.n.goodjohn fans first cast second ↳ thelnarchives this show has more more dressed up than my wedding

user4 this cast is so cute it's crazy

walker.scobell the 3rd pic >>> ↳ iamcharliebushnell oh so true ↳ i.am.andrew.alvarez a banger photo ↳ thelnarchives phone hijackers.

user5 the little black dress is doing so good for her, if i saw her in public i would've fainted ↳ user6 i can't believe i live in the same city as this girl like we breathe the same air???

leahsavajeffries i'm sat for the release, we're sat ↳ thelnarchives this is MY superbowl

aryansimhadri i feel excluded out of the 3rd photo ↳ thelnarchives that's okay because you're one of the girls ↳ iamcharliebushnell wait that's not fair

user7 aryan being part of the girls is so real and charlie wanting in is so cute

253 notes · View notes

moonyswritinq · 6 months ago

Note

charles x american!reader? inspo from the song so american by olivia rodrigo? like him just making fun of an american accent lol

so american — charles rowland x gn reader

❝ SO AMERICAN ❞

SYNOPSIS ➢ Headcanons/oneshot for Charles with an American reader, based on Olivia Rodrigo’s song ‘So American’.

PAIRING ➢ charles rowland x american gender neutral reader

CONTENT WARNING ➢ pining, banter, implicit sex, ish-canon timeline, no use of y/n

WORD COUNT ➢3.3 k

AUTHORS NOTE ➢ I didn’t know if you wanted a one shot or headcanons, but I felt like this would best fit as a mix of the two. I sort of got carried away. thank you for the request and hope you enjoy!

And if you do enjoy, I URGE you to like, reblog AND comment!!! It's so important to me as a writer.

MASTERLIST, TAG LIST

Drivin' on the right-side road He says I'm pretty wearin' his clothes And he's got hands that make Hell seem cold Feet on the dashboard, he's like a poem I wish I wrote I wish I wrote

Charles had a habit of taking everything lightly and making jokes to play off serious situations, something that could bother you at times.

The first time you met, for instance, was one of those times.

You were driving down the road of your little town and had to slam the brakes as to not run over the incredibly handsome, but incredibly stupid, boy that had just tried to cross the road.

You had honked at him and he looked up in surprise before immediately being pulled back by the hands of a red-headed girl. He broke out in a grin as you drove off with a scoff, internally cursing him.

The next time you saw him was only later that same day, surprisingly at your family friend’s, and the local butcher’s, shop.

You had walked in an immediately let out a sigh of annoyance, one of which he heard and turned around with that same grin plastered on his face.

“Well, if it isn’t the boy with a death wish,” you muttered, ignoring him and his friends to go up to the counter. Unluckily for you, Jenny was not there.

The boy scratched his neck bashfully. “Yeah, sorry ‘bout that. Forgot you lot drive on the right side of the road, which is technically the wrong side of the road. Just wasn’t looking.”

An eyebrow raised in his direction. English.

He stepped forward with a hand outstretched. “The name’s Charles. Pleased to meet you.”

You took it as a shiver ran up your spine, weirdly so cold to the touch he felt warm. It was the first time you managed to get a proper look at him, admiring his stylish clothes and sharp features. And his eyes were as warm as his hand was, deep swirling pools of darkness that seemed to emit nothing but light. You smiled back, introducing yourself.

“Pleasure. And this is Edwin, Crystal, and Niko,” he introduced his friends behind him, who all gave you a smile except for the uptight-looking Edwin.

“Well, I’ll let you guys get back to it,” you said, turning back to the counter as Jenny came out. You handed her the keys to the car with a wink. “Thanks for letting me borrow your car, Jenny. Told you I would return it without a scratch.”

She raised a doubtful eyebrow. “That is left to be seen, kiddo.”

You were about to turn around just when you caught the end of the other teenagers’ conversation. “Did you guys just say ‘Point No Point?” you asked and swivelled around to face them.

Niko nodded enthusiastically, briefly glancing at the boys. “Yeah, we’re going there for a—um, to meet someone there.”

“That’ll take ages without a car,” you remarked.

Crystal sighed. “Well, I can’t drive. How are we gonna get there?”

Your lips lifted into the beginning of a smirk as you turned back to Jenny. She heaved a deep sigh and threw back the keys into your hands.

Your smile broke out as you thanked her and motioned for the others to follow you. “Come on, I’ll give you a ride.”

Charles insisted on sitting in the front seat beside you, his feet up on the dashboard, tapping his finger along to the music in the car. You thought it was oddly charming.

You had asked what their whole deal was and Niko had inevitably revealed that they were the Dead Boy Detectives and that Charles was, in fact, dead. Upon hearing it, you almost slammed the breaks again in pure shock but managed to keep driving as if nothing.

And he laughs at all my jokes And he says I'm so American

It also started raining on your way there, making you groan in frustration as you remarked that “all this water is going to get Jenny’s car so muddy.”

“‘Wa-der,’” he had chuckled under his breath.

In an instant, you had turned to him with a harsh glare. “What?”

“Nothing,” came his amused reply. “You’re just so American.”

It wasn’t nothing, though. It was the first of many remarks against your American accent.

You had arrived at the lighthouse and very warily gotten out of the car. Somehow you had gotten roped up in their case and was now there to help them out through the end.

Charles had noticed your shivering in the cold rain and offered you his jacket which, despite ghost physics, was quite heavy and warm. You supposed ghosts couldn’t really get wet by normal rain, as both Edwin and Charles seemed unbothered by it.

You had tried to argue against taking it, claiming that you wouldn’t want to ‘strip him of any of his Britishness’, to which he had only scoffed and heaved the thing onto you while saying, “so American of you to assume my Britishness can be stripped away merely by my coat.”

Charles had then given you an appraising look and, while the others were distracted by the ghosts on the pier, bent down slightly to say, “You look pretty wearing my clothes.”

Your cheeks had warmed immediately and you’d turned away to not give it away, earning a chuckle. It made you smile though.

He learnt quickly that complimenting you would earn him a blush and a soft nudge against his ribcage, which made him do it even more.

That was also when he liked pointing out your accent. It started as a small observation, but eventually evolved into insults and bits.

He did it every chance he got; saying ‘lit-er-ally’ with an over-exaggerated vocal fry; ‘aloominum’; ‘hey, y’all’; and, his absolute favourite of them all, ‘i’m walkin here!’. Half of them made you laugh incessantly and the other half made you drag a hand over your face in frustration.

The worst was when he would parrot you personally, making you half wondering if you should be ashamed of your accent. When you had asked him about it, though, he had been quick to assure you that he loved your accent.

And that was when you started doing it back to him.

It became a game for the two of you, often just imitating each other’s accents.

“Are you ‘schewpid’?” you asked, turning to him.

He chuckled dryly, cocking his head in your direction. “Yeah, yeah, while you’re throwing insults at me I am just going to go grab a ‘kawfee’.”

You scoffed. “You’re a ghost, Charles. You can’t have coffee.”

“I can, but it just tastes disgusting.”

“Okay, well, while you’re at it, ‘kan I please ‘ave a cupa wa’a’?” you said, meeting his defiant gaze before he burst out in laughter. It made your insides warm knowing you were the cause of that laugh.

“Would you two please stop it?” came Crystal’s irritated reply. Edwin only rolled his eyes at your antics but you knew he agreed with Crystal’s discontent. You caught Charles’ gaze and broke out in a smile.

“I don’t know,” said Niko, fiddling with her fingers, “I think it’s cute when they do that.”

And just like that, you both fell silent and turned away from each other.

Oh, God, it's just not fair of him To make me feel this much I'd go anywhere he goes

You knew you liked him, a lot. But you hadn’t dared admit anything to him or anyone else and tried your best to hide it—not that you were doing a very good job.

The only thing that knew what you felt were the thrown-away poems you had written on a whim, his beaming face starkly imprinted in your mind.

You didn’t think it was fair for him to make you feel that much, enough to actually write poems about him. God, you were whipped (Charles would have definitely made fun of your using that word if he heard it).

You came with the Dead Boy Detectives on all their cases, now an honorary member in their Detective Agency. You enjoyed a lot of detective stories, like Sherlock Holmes and so seemingly had absorbed some of it, because you were quite good at figuring out clues.

It was all practically worth it to see Charles' smile directed at you after you had discovered something.

God, I'm so boring, and I'm so rude Can't have a conversation if it's not all about you The way you dress, and the books you read

And despite it all, you didn’t feel quite enough for him. He was a charismatic and vibrant person, while you thought of yourself as quite rude and boring.

Sometimes you wondered if you were too harsh in your remarks at Charles’ britishness, but then remembered his always-present smile that met your gaze and your worries fell away.

Nothing had happened up until that point, but it became increasingly more difficult denying anything being between you two.

Even Edwin started catching on and asking if something was between you two, which lead to some very awkward silences where Charles would drag Edwin away with an apologetic smile thrown your way.

Until finally it got too difficult to deny.

Niko would ask you something about a case and somehow you would end up talking about Charles’ smile, his eyes, the way he dressed and what he was interested in. She finally got so sick of it and decided to just call you out on it.

“You like Charles.”

You opened your mouth to protest but she put a finger against your lips, causing you to be too stunned to speak.

“And don’t say that you don’t, because it’s obvious,” she said, removing her finger.

“It’s not that obvious, is it?” you asked. You refused to meet her gaze and instead tried to look anywhere but her.

“Yes, it is.” She sighed, bringing her hands up to clasp your shoulders. “We all know it. Even Charles. But he won’t admit it either, so please go talk to him before we all die.”

You rolled your eyes, but felt a small smile start to form on your lips. “OK, just a little dramatic there?”

Niko shook her head with a serious expression on her face. “No. Now go find him.”

She had shooed you away after that, making sure that both Edwin and Crystal were distracted enough so that you could slip out to talk to Charles privately.

You found him in the other room, rooting through his backpack to find something ridiculously large, no wonder.

And he says I'm so American Oh, God, I'm gonna marry him If he keeps this shit up I might just be in lo-lo-, lo-lo-, lo-lo-, lo-lo-lo-lo-love

He seemed to have heard your footsteps as you were coming in because he tilted his head in your directing, flashing his trademark smile.

The sight of it made you swoon and you had to take a deep breath in order to collect your thoughts. When he finally asked what was up, your words came out jumbled and very much not like you had planned them to come out.

“Hey, hey,” he said, taking ahold of your shoulders and meeting your nervous gaze with his steady one. “Take a deep breath. C’mon, breathe with me.”

You did as he said, breathing with him, trying and failing to ignore the shivers that spread along with his touch. When you had collected yourself, he smiled and let go, much to your disappointment.

“That’s it. Now, what’s on your mind?” he asked.

You strode past him, opting to face the window instead of seeing his face. It only made it harder to get out any coherent sentences. “Why’d you think anything was on my mind?”

“Well,” remarked Charles, strolling after you, “it’s not everyday you storm in here as if the world is ending and then end up babbling like a stroke patient.”

You stared at him in horror before rolling your eyes. “Stop being so British, Charles.”

“Sorry, no can do, love.”

“That’s the problem, isn’t it?” you muttered to yourself.

“What?” he asked immediately, striding right in front of you so he could look you in the eyes.

“Look,” you started, refusing to meet his eye and instead looking anywhere else. Although, you could feel his gaze burning into your skull. “I might have developed some… feelings for you.”

Charles’ eyes widened at your words and you tried to turn again but he grabbed your shoulder to hold you in place. You sighed and finally met his gaze. His eyes were the same mysterious pools of darkness that you were used to, but you might have fooled yourself to imagine something else in them—something hopeful.

You decided to continue your confession because you were far past the point of redemption and might as well get it all out in one go.

“And the problem is, Charles, that however hard I try not to, I keep developing feelings for you. Even your annoying habits and antics cause me to fall for you. And, I swear to God, that if you keep this shit up I’m going to be properly gone for you.”

You waited a breath for his reaction, but when nothing came you were forced to ask him again. “Charles?”

“Uh, yeah,” he stammered out, his voice suddenly dry and cracked. “Sorry, I—uh, I was not prepared for that.”

You shrugged. “That’s alright. We’ll just go back to being friends. Nothing needs to change.”

He shook his head violently. “That’s absolutely not OK.”

You had but a moment to be surprised before he went in for the best kiss you had had yet in your short life. He held you like he had never touched anything before in his life and kissed you like he was a dying man and you were the cure. You weren't sure how much of it he could feel, but the psychological effect was immediate and mind blowing.

He may be dead but he had never felt more alive than in that moment.

I really love my bed, but, man, it's hard to sleep when he's with me When he's with me

Your relationship escalated quickly after that first kiss. You didn’t define it as anything, but it made you happier just knowing he was there by your side—and you could all him yours.

And you wasted no time in physically progressing your relationship—AKA you did not get much sleeping done.

It was a different kind of vulnerable, allowing yourself to give your soul and body to Charles, and him trusting you with himself.

Because of his being a ghost, it felt like so much more an emotional and psychological experience which only made you appreaciate it, and him, more.

By the looks of it, he enjoyed it as well—more than enjoyed it. He couldn’t stop smiling at you afterwards, while he laid on the bed beside you and gazed at you with half-dazed eyes.

Charles let himself curl around you, embracing you. You weren’t sure if ghosts could get tired, but nonetheless he whispered out a, “I’m knackered.”

You had nuzzled into the crook of his neck. “You’re so British.”

He kissed your forehead softly, and you felt it more than you had ever felt him before. “And you’re so American.”

You only chuckled and let yourself drift off to sleep in his arms holding you close.

You never wanted to get out of bed or leave him, and he utilised that fact to his every advantage.

He did everything he could to keep you in bed with him, even though he probably didn’t sleep much, just wanting to hold you close.

It wasn’t fair how easy he made your heart melt.

I apologize if it's a little too much, just a little too soon But if the conversation ever were to come up I don't wanna assume this stuff But ain't it love? I think I'm in love

It didn’t take long for you to know that it wasn’t merely affection you felt for Charles, but something much deeper.

You didn’t want to presume Charles felt anything close to what you felt, though.

So you continued acting like whatever the two of you were—kissing and hooking up—not quite a couple but not quite friends with benefits, but something in between that went deep between you two.

Without any real definition for what you two were, it frightened you out of saying anything to him.

So you kept going with the featherlight kisses, the quiet giggles after one of you said a joke and were trying to cover it up as to not disturb the rest of the group, and the endless nights where you could be in his arms and have not a care in the world.

But it was on your mind, constantly.

Oh, how you just wished to say those three words to him, to just have it out in the open. So he could have you with the truth staring into his face and do with you what he pleased.

You wanted to splay yourself open for him, vulnerable and unafraid, show him yourself and let him love you back with the same ferocity with which you loved.

And finally, it became too much.

He was on his way out for one of the cases, one of which you chose not to go with them to. He had just collected all his belongings in that backpack of his and went in for a goodbye kiss.

“Be careful,” you whispered between parted lips, leaving the ghost of your words on his mouth. He smiled through it and pulled away.

“Always am,” came his cheeky reply, winking at you before turning to the door. “Bye.”

“Bye,” you called, and then, without thinking, “Love you.”

It took a mere moment for his brain to register your words before he halted and slowly turned in his step.

“What?”

Your own eyes widened in surprise of yourself and you were quick to come up with a way to play it off as a mistake or a stumble upon your words. But he crossed the distance between you with long strides, dropping his backpack and bringing his hands up to hold your cheeks tenderly.

“What did you just say?” he whispered, eyes shifting back and forth between yours trying to find the truth in your words. Your mouth fell agape, but you couldn’t find the words to tell him again, so close now so that you could feel his short breaths of air on your skin. “Please,” he said again, voice so soft you had to strain to hear him.

“I mean, it might be a little too much, too soon, and I don’t want to assume anything, but..” Your voice trailed off, breaking. Your lips fought to form the words that so desperately wanted to make their way out of you. “But I—I love you, Charles.”

He breathed out huge sigh of relief and captured your lips with his. “I love you too,” he whispered between breaths, barely audible.

Your smile could not be hindered as he kissed you back, fiercely and passionately. He kept pressing kisses on your mouth, on the corner of your lips, trailing to your cheeks, to your neck, down to your shoulders and your chest. All the while he kept repeating those same three words, “I love you,” over and over again, pressing them into your skin. Into your soul, essentially.

Your hands were grasped in his hair, fingers curling around his locks as you felt every touch of his lips that brought forth a shiver down your spine. Not from the coldness, though, but from the feeling of his soul connecting to yours.

He kept pressing featherlight kisses to you with small ‘I love you’s, and you couldn’t fight the laugh that escaped its way through you.

“Okay, stop it” you whispered, pulling his head away to grasp his face in your hands. You met his eyes with a smile and his beaming grin made your insides melt. “I love you so much, Charles.”

He laughed, pressing another kiss to your lips. “I love you too.”

“Now, come on, you got a case to solve.”

Charles let himself be lead away to the others, refusing to let go of your hand. He even pressed kisses to the back of it every chance he got, and you were roped into going to the case with the rest of them, if only not to leave Charles’ side.

Tag list: @bookholichany, @heartsfromcoco, @scriblezz, @a-gay-dumbass, @eunxhan, @loverclear, @shobolanya, @edit-me-prettyplease

#moonyswritinq #atlaswriting #atlas requests #dead boy detectives #dead boy detective agency #dead boy detective spoilers #charles rowland #charles rowland x reader #charles rowland x gn reader #x reader #x male reader #x gn reader #dbda #dbda fanfic #dbda x reader #dead boy detectives x reader

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shinobus-unbreakable-spirit · 2 years ago

Note

Hello!

Could I request for some Yoriichi fluffy headcanons and a little bit of NSFW ones?

I hope you have a nice day/night!

Coming right up! :D

Yoriichi Headcanons

Fluffy with some NSFW!

Can be little spoon or big spoon depending on the situation, as long as you two are close he's happy

When it comes to days out as a couple, he likes to let you decide where you should go, and no matter how wild or implausible your suggestion is he'll make sure it happens

Absolutely loves, loves, loves giving oral. He cannot enjoy intimacy unless he knows you're pleasured and content, making him an extremely caring and sensual lover. He'll go down on you for hours with no complaints whatsoever, all he wants in the bedroom is for you to feel infinite pleasure

If you give him a blowjob, this is one of the few times you'll see him lose control. He's incredibly sensitive there and the moment your lips wrap around his cock, he bites his lip and proceeds to softly moan, gripping your hair firmly. It just blows his mind so much. He can certainly climax from a blowjob

If you have kids together, he'll be the best father. He will never lose his cool and will be extremely gentle, but still excellent at teaching your children everything they need to know. He also appreciates everything you do as a parent, and frequently makes time to show you how much he loves you be it through gifts, poetry, cuddles, lovemaking, or simply asking you what would help ease the stress of parenting and making that happen

He is a quality time sort of guy. He likes to spend almost every moment with you, as you're his whole heart; he loves you so much and, although he doesn't vocalize this often, he has no idea what he would do without you. He's very content even just sitting in silence with you, an arm protectively wrapped around you as he sharpens his sword, writes, or does something else

He has a secret talent for poetry. He writes various poems (mostly love ones) and enjoys reading them out to you with that dulcet tone of his. Understood tacitly, many of his poems are dedicated to you and inspired by his burning affection

People underestimate Yoriichi, given his unassuming disposition. This might lead to cocky assholes feeling like they can mess with you, but the second someone gives you so much as a mean glare, Yoriichi shows how formidable he is; not with violence, unless he has to, but by verbally making the person look stupid and humiliating them. He has a quick wit, and he brings it out especially to defend you

He compliments you at random times, in an endearing manner. You two will be sitting enjoying a tea, then he will stroke your cheek and say something sweet like, "You have such raw beauty, my love." The offbeat timing of his compliments shows he says these things with no premeditation, but just as he thinks of them, which is at least three times a day

I really hope you enjoyed these, anon, and that you have a wonderful day! Yoriichi loves and cares about you!

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #demon slayer headcanons #yoriichi x you #yoriichi x y/n #yoriichi x reader #demon slayer yoriichi #kny yoriichi #yoriichi headcanons #yoriichi tsugikuni

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hollythius · 1 year ago

Text

of red cheeks like pomegranate halves

lyney x reader. multi-chapter. (hopefully)

holly’s notes: sorry guys. i just think he’s silly. now you have to deal with it. i haven’t played much of genshin lately, nor have i ever heard a voice line of this man, so please bear with me. 🙏

tldr: pining. so much pining. sort of friends with benefits, implied ‘relations’ if you know what i mean, bad attempts at poetry, kisses, angst + fluff, reader is technically a poet but isn’t expanded on much, hidden/secret relationship. I WROTE THIS IN LIKE 30 MINS HELP. does anyone want a part two. i will write it. i prommy.

“archons, lyney— let me go,” you huff. his arms wrap tightly around your waist, his long-sleeved pajamas brushing against your bare skin. your partner barely hums, his attention nowhere but in the pleasant dreams you’re certain he’s having.

his fingers trace gently along the dips and curvature of your body, wandering a path familiar to him only. lyney is ever the risk taker, having you here. in his room, his siblings not far off within the confines of the house. you groaned again at the thought of finding your clothes on the messy floor and trekking out the window to the chilly morning weather.

but it’s the agreement between you two. he is your magician, and you his poet. his lips kiss only yours. your fingers only pull and tug at his ash-blond tresses. you blow off a little steam, and then return to the cold, shocking morning.

lyney is always clingy. it’s how he is. you don’t dare fight it, lest it worsens for you. he’d almost blown your cover numerous times; his voice too loud, his gestures too grand, or the look in his eyes too longing.

“lyney, i need to leave,” you say again, this time almost begging. finally, your midnight lover relents, rolling over in bed to grant you room to exit. you huff, figuring that was far easier than normal. you spend no extra time gathering your clothes and slipping them on, only to climb down the window.

when lyney wakes, the bed is cold. he finds himself feeling impossibly empty, a feeling that has become more prominent as of late. he finds it ironic— your absence has left the magic dulled, and he longs to create prose adequate to describe his emotions. perhaps one day you’d teach him to rhyme in ways that didn’t make readers cringe.

his eyes drifting to the pillow, imagining your sleeping face still resting there. maybe, if he was lucky, you’d flash him a grin with just a little too much teeth. then, he’d laugh at you softly, place a hand on your cheek, and kiss your lips. that would remain a dream, however, until he’d gathered the courage to profess his undying love for you.

and now, as he dresses himself for the day’s magic show, he smiles. you’ll be there, like you always are. toting around a notebook, jotting down scenes to describe in future poems. lyney glances at the bookshelf in his room, at the few volumes of your poetry that reside there. he keeps them lined in order of publication. you’d never seen them, or you’d never made it known that you had.

but lyney was content. whatever you had, whatever situation yours was, he was perfectly fine with keeping it. he greets his siblings with a big smile, gleaming and ready to perform. lynette shrugs him off, and freminet gives a shaky grin back.

lyney can’t wait to see you again, eyes on him and engrossed in his show. gasps falling from your lips as you watch from the front row of seats. he smiles again, heart fluttering. he’d have to do something about these feelings.

#.hollies #lyney x reader #lyney x y/n #lyney x you #lyney x gender neutral reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader

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exorcqism · 11 months ago

Text

„𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆”

: ̗̀➛ 18+ CONTENT!!!

: ̗̀➛ afab!reader, lil bit of sex, nun too heavy. teasing, some whimpering, dom!reader. not proofread so i apologize in advance for any mistakes if they’re made.

: ̗̀➛ art creds by;; separuhpuding. dividers are not mine, if you own these, you may claim them in comments.

: ̗̀➛ WORD COUNT;; 3.1K

: ̗̀➛ plot aspects inspired by;; @selfishdoll (good ass writer,, i recommend)

* dark mode recommended

* do not copy this plot. i’m perfectly fine with inspirations but give creds. if this plot his stolen in any way, the post will be taken down and you will be blocked.

𝐃𝐀𝐊𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 ✉️🖇️;; ngllll i was writing the smut in gym class. i was INTO it. but its nothing heavy…just a lil nasty nasty 🌚 this was my first time writing for choso BUT THIS MAN SO FINE. i hope ya enjoy ittttt

you and choso were roommates. it wasn’t surprising. you both went to the same college, you were good friends. nothing was wrong with that. but you were wondering what went wrong…why the two of you drifted apart.

“morning, choso!” you beamed at the 5’11 male sitting on the couch, his violet irises looking intently at his paper, loosely holding the pencil between his fingers. “Smoke Break-Dance” by JID played quietly on the speaker beside the tv, you noticed. you smiled a bit. choso must’ve been picking up on your music taste…or it was conveniently playing and he didn’t realize.

the male finally glanced up at you, registering your presence and lifted his hand, replacing actual words.

you plopped down beside him, making the side you sat on sink downward underneath him. his violet irises dragged to their left to look at you.

“whatcha doing?” you smile.

choso could never get over your soft voice and playful attitude. it always made him feel like he was doing something wrong. was he too boring? was it the fact that he hardly had any energy to do anything at all and he just laid around majority of the day? he didn’t know himself.

“writing…” he said quietly. “writing a poem…”

a couple months into your junior year of college was when he told you he loved you. he couldn’t explain himself but that’s what he was feeling all that time you stayed with him.

when you came around, he had a weird feeling in his chest when he saw you.

‘this body is betraying me’ he thought. he thought it was odd to be feeling this way about a human. a woman at that.

choso was a bit possessive of you. he enjoyed your company but grimaced at the men that came into your vicinity. the male watched from a distance, swallowing his urge to burst into a fit of rage but it would completely ruin his calm image.

“it’s fine,” yuji shrugged, waving his hand at his big brother, “that’s your girl, of course you’d be upset at another dude talking to her. it’s completely fine. don’t get so aggy.”

choso was happy to have his little brother, yuji there to comfort him when we was too nervous to confront you about the situation. from simple situations like this all the way to why he had an odd feeling between his legs when he kissed you. he didn’t think the rod that hung down in his lower area would be used for more than just using the bathroom….until yuji said so.

your “first time” was pretty interesting. it consisted of choso asking you if you were okay or if he was doing it right, to which you replied “yes” each time followed by a moan. you were wondering if he had done this before but you chose not to get into it.

more time goes by and then that’s when you realized that you were drifting apart.

choso was pursuing a career in art. drawing realistic portraits, using his heaven sent abilities to make drawings that looked like davinci had created them.

you were attempting to be a nurse, so you were off campus a lot, spending time at other hospitals to do “hands on” learning. neither of you had much time to talk to each other, though you sent texts back and forth assuring each other that everything was okay.

choso’s pupils retracted, hearing the sudden news of you wanting to break up with him. it was like he was going into shock.

“don’t you understand how much it would hurt me to see you go?” he said, his deep voice breaking. you never heard him sound so broken before. the moment almost made you cry yourself. the male gently took your hands, his sad eyes looking into yours, searching for an answer. but there was nothing.

“Y/N please…” you felt his grip on your hands get a bit tighter. you kept your head down, avoiding eye contact with him to refrain from making yourself cry in front of him.

you were gone and that was the end of it. you left your favorite person with his heart hurting, making him feel like he had to throw up. it was like his whole world had went cold, now that you weren’t in it.

two years passed and you haven’t seen choso. you were starting to forget about him. there were some physical features about him that you forgot too…like the way he looked bored all the time or the fact that he always had his hair in two buns and occasionally letting it all the way down.

you went on about your day while choso was probably in his room crying his eyes out, falling into a depression.

you heard a knock at your apartment door. you were confused at first because you weren’t expecting anyone to come over and a select few people knew where you lived. you put on a pair of joggers after walking around in nothing but an oversized hoodie and a pair of ankle socks.

the moment you opened the door, a set of hands clasped onto your waist like a corset and pulled you closer to the owner of those said hands. you were pulled into a really tight hug.

you melted in this person’s arms. their touch, the way they smelled, their warmth…you missed it. your arms wrapped around them, returning that hug. you could feel your scleras burning as tears began to form in your eyes.

memories of choso flooded back into your mind like a tsunami consuming an entire city. salty lines of tears slid down your cheeks and you held the male a bit tighter than he was holding you.

“i’m so sorry, cho.” you cried. “i didn’t mean to hurt you the way i did. i didn’t know what i was doing and—”

you were immediately cut off by a kiss. you had a storm of emotions swirling through your body, your eyes traveled up to the male after he pulled away from you.

a tired smile was flashed at you before you heard him say something just above a whisper, his deep voice startling you a bit.

you forgot about that.

“don’t apologize.”

“but i left you alone for so long. you aren’t upset? you not feeling some type of way about me?” your voice shaking from your recent crying.

“no, i’m not angry.” choso said, his hand sliding down your arm to hold yours. “it’s been two years…and i waited until you were ready.”

“i was told that i should be patient and i shouldn’t try to hold you back.” he added but his words only made you cry even more. he waited for you? he could’ve found so many other women and he waited two years for you?

“why did you wait? you could’ve found someone else to replace me, you know that?”

the violet eyed male just shrugged. “loyalty. if you needed a century, i’ll wait for you.” choso’s loyalty was that of a dog waiting for its owner to return after being gone for hours on end.

having nine other brothers, choso knew what loyalty was and it was something he valued heavily. but most importantly, he valued you. your safety. everything.

“good job, cho!” yuji grinned as he threw his arm around the taller male’s waist. choso’s head swung around, his hair flowing with him and looked at the other, feeling a bit embarrassed.

“i knew you could do it.” he continued.

“why are you even here…?” choso queried, putting on his awkward smile. you just watched with a smile on your face as the pair of brothers chattered until it faded into playful bickering.

later that day, you and choso were at your apartment, in your bedroom relaxing after yuji convinced the two of you to hang out with him for the day. choso was reading a book called “The Art of War”. you enjoyed when he read aloud to you. even though you were getting a bit bored, you didn’t wanna tell him that.

you were getting impatient. needy even. you missed being so close to him and being touched by his hands that looked two times the size of yours. abruptly, the book closes before choso would kiss you passionately as if something had possessed him. his lips were pressing against yours. he didn't say anything, his breath was heavy. everything was blurry to him.

choso held you tight against him, his hands moving to caress your waist. he was no longer thinking straight. he kept kissing you. he was drunk off of the feeling. but he cared about your lips. they were soft and plushy. he couldn’t even remember the last time he felt something as good as this.

soon, his hands moved to your neck. he caressed your throat, tenderly. his head was swimming, filled only by the feelings he had for you. kissing turned into biting, and biting turned into licking, and licking turned into kissing again. his lips were everywhere on your body. all he wanted was you.

there was no talking anymore. only the sound of the two of you breathing. you were breathing fast, filled with excitement. the way choso was looking at you was driving you crazy. he wanted you just as much as you wanted him.

he was caressing you from top to bottom, his lips kissing every part of you. it was...perfect. he was yours, you were his. it made sense. what else did you need?

“you're so beautiful..." he whispered. “...so perfect.”

you felt his bare chest against yours. his body was hot. it felt incredible. you were lost in the pleasure, and there was no returning. it was too late to stop. choso wanted you and you wanted him. It was too good to be true. his hands were touching you everywhere, teasing you, making your blood pump faster, making you moan.

he made you moan loudly. his lips and tongue were everywhere. your whole body was shaking. everything felt amazing. every sensation was magnified by a hundred. the smell of his skin, his voice, his moans in your ear...it made you feel like you were going to go insane.

the male was holding both of your wrists. he was looking at you with lust. he didn't care about anything else. you were feeling so good you were unable to think anymore. your heart was pumping like crazy, your legs were shaking.

he kissed your neck, your collarbone, your breasts. his hands were everywhere on your body. he wanted you badly. he couldn't control himself. he was all over you. he didn't care if it was a little dirty. his hands were exploring every inch of your body, making you moan and scream loudly.

he took off your clothes while his eyes kept scanning your body. soon, you were both naked. you looked at each other's body with lust and excitement. you knew how right this was. nothing else mattered. all of your senses were focused on this moment.

the room was flooded with the sound of both your moans and your breathing. your body was hot, your mind was fuzzy. you were not yourself anymore. you were a different being, full of sensuality.

choso was looming over you now, looking down at you with burning passion in his eyes. he was holding your wrists tightly and staring at you, his muscles twitching, as if he was imagining what he'd do to you. you could feel his breath on your neck, your collarbone... you could smell him.

his fingers were kneading your skin, his hands were sliding all over your body. he wanted to possess you. he was devouring you, slowly, passionately, thoroughly. his hands were feeling you, exploring you, learning you. he was learning how your body was shaped all over again, to better pleasure you.

he was slowly moving his tongue against your thighs now, kissing his way up your body. your heart was beating faster and faster. you could hardly breathe. he was taking his time, but he wasn't playing games with you. he wanted you to enjoy this.

he was caressing your inner thighs, kissing them, licking them, making your legs shake. you couldn't remain silent anymore. you were overwhelmed by desire. he was in control, controlling you in the most delicate way possible, making you surrender to his will.

you began reaching down to choso’s lower area, gently caressing the length that he had been hiding from her. you bit your lip as you stared in awe and pure excitement.

he had no words. his lips were quivering as he stared at you. he was feeling you, feeling your desire. he wasn't thinking about anything else in this moment. he was in awe, in total disbelief. he was breathing furiously as he looked at your hand, moving slowly down.

he closed his eyes, unable to bear the intensity of the situation. a moment later, he opened his eyes, staring at you. his expression was intense. his face was flushed. he wasn't saying anything. all he could do was stare at your hand, moving so slowly up and down...

you moved your hand away for a moment, teasing your partner. choso couldn't help but moan loudly, feeling his heart pound so aggressively. he was addicted to your touch.

he looked at your face, still flushed, wanting to see you enjoying this moment as much as he was. your hand was moving up and down again, so slowly and... so seductively. it was too much for him, but you weren't stopping. you wanted to see him beg.

he could feel it. he was so close to the edge. his whole body was shaking, his breath was rapid. he was holding his breath, unable to control himself. It was taking so long, it was too much for him. he wanted you so badly, and you were making him wait. and you were enjoying it all.

he was so desperate, so hot, so ready to explode any second now. he was looking at you with pleading eyes.

"Y/N... i can't... anymore..." you heard choso mumble.

your eyes narrowed. he was yours, and you were in control. you were loving every second of it. you put your hand back on him and looked at him with a mischievous smile.

“wait a little bit more,” you said, still keeping your hand moving up and down. your free hand went to his mouth to stop him from talking. “be a good boy for me.” you added, with a sultry voice.

he was almost begging you to stop at this point. you were torturing him, playing with him. you had absolute power over him, and you loved it. you didn't want to give in just yet. you were playing with him, enjoying every second of it. it was such a thrilling feeling. you wanted him to suffer a little longer.

he was holding himself, trying to remain calm. the sensation was getting to his head. it was too much. he was starting to feel weak, his legs were trembling, and his hand was shaking.

he was shaking. he tried to move, to get away from your hand, but you were stronger. you held him tight. you were making him wait for your final touch, making him beg for it. he was so vulnerable, so at your mercy.

he was losing control, not able to think, not able to say anything. his breath was racing, his body was shaking, his mind was empty. all he could feel was you. your hand touching him, teasing him, driving him crazy.

choso was breathing heavily, trying to make sense of what was happening to him. he couldn't take it anymore. he turned his head away, hiding his trembling body. his body felt overwhelmed, so close to the edge.

“i can't... please,” he mumbled, his voice barely understandable through the moan. his eyes were closed tight, his face buried in the pillow.

you felt like the goddess of lust, controlling choso’s mind and body, as if he was a puppet in your hands. his voice, his breath, his body were all yours to control. you had broken him, and you were loving it. your whole body was shaking, just a lot less than his, but you still felt incredibly empowered.

you put your hand down again, but you didn't move it anymore. you kept it on him, looking at his face. “not yet,” you whispered.

choso was breathing fast, staring at you. his eyes were so full of lust, desire and love. he could barely move, his body was so tense, so close to the edge, shaking as if he was about to explode.

you were in complete control of his body and of his mind. you were enjoying this. watching him like this, looking at you, wanting you... it was delicious.

you could do anything you wanted with this weak and sensitive boy. literally anything. you could make him beg, you could make him shout. you could do whatever you wanted with him.

your hand was still touching his body. you kept looking at his face, drinking his expressions of love, lust and desire. you were loving watching him like this, enjoying your power over him.

you moved your free hand up to his face, caressing his cheek. you could feel his breath on your skin. he was trying so hard to remain still, but you could see he was shaking, his body so tense.

“don't move,” you whispered to him, with a provocative smile on your face. “stay still for me, boy.”

his heart was beating so fast. he was saying your name like it was the only thing he knew. he was looking at you, but he could hardly keep his eyes open. tears welled up in his eyes from pleasure. he physically couldn’t handle it but he wanted more of it. how could he resist you? you made him feel so weak in this situation. he felt dizzy. his entire body feeling numb.

soon enough, ropes of white substance spewed from his manhood and he was completely out of breath. choso laid down on top of you and you moved your hand away from him, putting your arms around him.

he’d kiss your lips gently before tucking his head into your neck and closing his eyes.

“i missed you so much.” he said quietly.

“i missed you too.” you replied before your eyes closed, falling asleep after your high died down.

𝐄𝐍𝐃.

⋆｡࿇ ·࣭࣪̇˖ 𖦹°༅༚

#choso kamo #𝐾𝑂𝑇𝐴 𝑊𝑅𝐼𝑇𝐸𝑆 書く #choso x black!reader #jjk choso #jujutsu kaisen choso #choso x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu itadori #jjk x reader #choso x female reader #choso x reader smut #choso smut #anime

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khaire-traveler · 1 month ago

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Do you have any tips for practicers/worshippers of hellenic polytheism that still live with christian or other religious parents. Are the Gods upset with me if I have to hide their offerings away from my family?

I've never felt more loved than when I started worshiping these deities and devoting myself to them, but I'm scared I'll mess it all up.

Advice?

Thank you!

Khaire, thank you for being so patient. 🧡

I've never been in this situation, but I know of several people who have. While I can't speak for the gods (no one can), I will say that they are unlikely to be upset with you for a circumstance that is outside of your control. You are hiding your religion likely for safety, and there's nothing wrong with that; you're not doing anything wrong to slight the gods. I doubt, very much so, that the gods would be angry at anyone for that.

Regarding general closeted worship, I've been told that incorporating every day activities into your worship really helps. For example, using rose-scented soaps if you're a worshipper of Aphrodite, or waking up with your favorite songs to start your day if you're a worshipper of Apollon. Doing little things isn't lazy or bad; it's a great way to include the gods into your daily routine more seamlessly. Give that a try. You could also have a sketchbook dedicated to the gods where you sketch offerings you wish to give them, write short stories for them, or journal "poems" that are actually prayers. I hope these suggestions can be of us to you, Nonny.

I wish you the absolute best on your journey. Remember that your beliefs are NOT less than those of the Christians around you. Our religion is just as valid and real as any other. Take care. 🧡

#helpol #hellenic polytheism #hellenic pagan #anon asks #answered asks #was proud of the journal idea #please feel free to add on to this

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moonydustx · 8 months ago

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Hi!! Your writing is so good. I love it so much!!! Can i request a Five x female reader? Where the reader is smug and direct about her feelings? Thank you!! 🫶🫶🫶

Hi Hi! First, thank you for appreciating my work ❤️❤️

I tried my best to deliver and I apologize in advance if anything deviated from the proposal. I used Five from last season because his personality in these last few episodes is my favorite. Again, thanks for the request and i hope u like!

requests | the umbrella academy masterlist

What do you feel?

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x F!Reader

Warnings: fluffff, some things are a little out of canon, F!Reader is also someone with powers. She can feel others' feelings and make others feel hers through touch.

You still remembered the first time Five crossed your eyes at Temps Comisson. The neat jacket, the formal shorts and the almost arrogant posture for just a kid. At first, you hated him.

"A new friend for you." the manager introduced you to him and the two of you barely bothered to shake hands.

"Great, a newbie." Five replied, without much patience.

"I already have my suitcase, I don't need this new one." the cynicism in your tone was clear to both of them. When you saw the manager looking at you impatiently, you turned to him. "Let's follow the rules: don't get in my way, don't meddle in my choices and please don't expect me to save you if you're standing in the grave."

"I could say the same." Five replied, extending his hand to you. "Deal."

And a few years later, here you were. Cooped up in the family of what you could call your best friend, attending a wedding taking place under the lights of the end of the world.

"What do you think, huh? Apocalyptic weddings." Five whispered as the bride and groom entered.

"First I need to find someone who can handle it." your answer came out almost automatically and you just watched Five deny it, with a smile on his lips.

The ceremony was quick, totally the opposite of dinner. The two of you chose to sit at a table alone, taking in your surroundings. The happy couples, Ali and Viktor fighting, Ben being disturbed by Klaus.

"Can you feel what they think from here?" Five asked, filling his glass.

"Sex, sex." you pointed to Luther and Diego with their respective spouses. "Guilt and grudge." you pointed at Viktor and then Allison. "And suicide." Finally, you pointed at Ben. "Look, I don't even need to go there and touch them."

"Sometimes I forget." He pointed to your hands covered in gloves. "And you, how do you feel about the world ending?"

"Relief, I guess." You lied, seeing him nod.

You both watched Klaus approach, in silence. Brother Hargreeves tried to convince them to listen to Sir Reginald, but it was in vain. You understood his hope, in trying to somehow rescue his father's good image and no matter how much he denied it, you could feel that Five wanted to be able to have that kind of hope too.

"I still don't believe him." Five said in a low tone, despite having alcohol in his blood, he still needed to remain alert.

"Me either." you imitated him, moving closer to him. The two of your heads were practically glued together as the two of you talked. "It's a shame to see Klaus so… wait a minute."

Sir Reginald's presence was present there, frightening everyone. It wasn't the spiteful version that you heard Five talk about over the years, but there was something that didn't fit there, you could feel it.

The man gave a brief speech, with a huge poem and it was clear from the looks of those around that the situation was stranger than you could imagine. Perhaps with the intention of breaking the ice hovering in the air, as soon as Hargreeves left the microphone, the dance floor was filled with music and colored lights.

"The old man is actually good at it." Five pondered, taking your attention.

"I don't know, something is wrong. He's always alert, he won't let me touch him." you responded immediately, watching him think for a few seconds.

"Any ideas what we can do?"

"I don't know if you got the memo, but we're about to die. " you turned away from Five to grab your glass. In a cynical gesture, you took your glass towards his glass, improvising a toast. "Here's to the old man's minutes of sanity."

"How can you be so frank?" He seemed indignant, drawing a laugh from your lips. "You're worse than me."

"Ah, dear Five. Try to feel what everyone else feels for a day. All the anger, all the fear. Your own feelings become a burden to you." your words silenced him, leaving space for him to just nod and for you to return to contemplating the speeches.

"I'm glad the world is ending." he stood up, extending his hand to you while his other hand held the bottle of champagne you shared. "Screw other people's feelings."

"Yeah, screw it." You accepted and stood up.

Five led you to the dance floor and even though the music was more upbeat and the dance floor was full of his brothers, he still spun you around a few times, in a kind of disconcerted waltz.

Five soon let go of you and climbed up to where the DJ table was, taking the microphone from the strange man. Without speech or prior notice, Five began to sing. The lyrics weren't the happiest of all, much less the melody, but they were familiar to you. You remembered singing it a few times in Five's presence and saying how much it reminded you of your father, who had been away from you for years.

"Would you accompany me?" your eyes moved away from Five's to Klaus, who proposed a dance. You could notice his suspicious look as he led you away.

"You like him, don't you?" Klaus asked and you just nodded, there was no point in hiding it anymore. "Well, you still have some time until the world ends."

"And if it doesn't end, what do I do next?"

"What do you mean it doesn't end?" Klaus asked, stopping turning you around. "Will you accept Dad's plan?"

"No, no, that's not it. I've seen Five end apocalypses before, I think something inside me hopes he can fix this one too. Maybe it's just the grief speaking inside me."

"Yeah, maybe."

Klaus turned you around once again and let you go, leaving you alone for just a few seconds.

"Let's get out of here?" Five's voice materialized behind you. "I need fresh air."

Before you could respond, he held your hand and led you away. It only took a few minutes for the two of you to be alone, watching the orange sky from the building's terrace.

"Can I ask you something?" You sat next to him, keeping little distance. Before you could ask, he held out the bottle of champagne he hadn't put down yet.

"Technically you already asked."

"Stop being an idiot." your shoulders collided with his. "That's it, right? I think we finally don't have the solution."

"I can almost believe you're scared." this time, you didn't deny it, you just looked away. "You know you don't need to talk, right?"

"I know, but it's frustrating. Running after saving the world all this time and not being able to. I'd rather die, I don't know, run over by a car, with an anvil falling on my head. But an apocalypse?" you laughed and watched Five do what you had done many times when you couldn't use your voice to talk. He took one of your hands and took off the glove, allowing himself to touch your skin.

"I can feel you." he replied, in a low tone. "You are afraid."

Five preferred to omit everything else he felt when he touched your skin. Fear, anguish, anxiety, love. The last one weighed on his mind, but he knew you and knew you would come out as soon as he felt comfortable. In a way, he knew that when he touched you, you would also be aware of his feelings.

"The only people who aren't scared are those who aren't paying attention."

"I think we need to drink more, to forget about this." even after just a few minutes of sitting, Five pulled you to your feet. "And this dress suits you, it's a waste to stay here while the party is going on downstairs."

Again, he dragged you downstairs, where the celebration was taking place. Whiskey, vodka, beer, everything that still contains a quantity of alcohol became part of your menu and at the end of the party, you found yourself sitting at the counter, Five standing a few meters away, tasting two different drinks. Maybe that would be the last time the two of you would party.

"Five?" you interrupted him, making him place the two bottles on the floor. "I don't want to die with regrets."

"Elucidate me on that."

"Even though The Handler always made it clear that I was too much for you, I like you." A sob caused by alcohol interrupted your train of thought. "I like it and I know that maybe I'm a little too much for your arrogance. You're also a little too much for me." You laughed, seeing him approach. "I think after these years, it's only fair for me to say that I love you."

"You think?" he laughed, fitting himself between your legs dangling from the metal counter. "You drank too much."

"You too." you responded immediately, starting to take off your gloves. "And alcohol doesn't affect my opinion. Feelings don't lie, do you want to feel?" Before the first glove could leave your hand, Five stopped you.

"I believe in you and I feel the same." he replied and in an unexpected gesture, he hugged you, putting his face in your mouth. "I've loved you for a while, it's a shame it took us so many years to realize."

"We can live that at least now." You gave space for his face to be in front of yours. "Damn, now I wish I could end this apocalypse."

His lips took yours and instead of his hands attaching themselves to your body, Five disheveledly took off your gloves and pulled your hands until they tangled around the back of his neck.

"I love you so much." he murmured between your lips, feeling almost overwhelmed by all the feeling that emanated from your hands. "Tonight, I'm yours and you're mine, fuck this apocalypse."

"Until the world ends?" you asked breathlessly.

"Until the world ends."

Your mouth tasted like alcohol, sweets and fear for the small future, but Five didn't see the problem, after all you could love each other until the world ended.

#fiction #reader insert #no use of y/n #requests open #the umbrella academy s3 #the umbrella academy #five hargreeves #five hargreaves x reader

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btdemaru · 2 years ago

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Obey Me! Dating fluff headcanon.

ft. The 7 demon brothers seperate

(obey me brothers x GN! Reader)

Note : these r just the headcanon + love language that i think would fit them, if it's abit ooc i apologize!

Warning : slightly suggestive

Lucifer

his love language is definitely acts of service and quality time

Opening doors for you, pouring you a cup of coffee he made just for the both of you

Whenever he's doing work and you're in the room with him, he'd probably pull you onto his lap

Lucifer loves and always enjoys the times you spend together frfr

Even if it's just in his room, going for night walks, fancy dinners and so on

If you guys go out for dinner or just grocery shopping he would definitely put his hand around your waist just to show everyone there that you're his

He'll say that hes a little overprotective.. even tho 'little' is far from how protective he actually is 💀

Tends to overwork himself so you have to force him to get his ass to bed whether you drag him or not

Is too prideful to admit that he craves your hugs and cuddles every night

Mostly calls you 'my love' or 'my dearest'

If you disturb him while he's working on a deadline or just giving him an attitude he'd definitely be pissed and wouldn't hesitate to put your bratty attitude in place

Loves kissing your lips and neck

Mammon

I think his love language is gifting (more to receiving gifts lmfao) and physical touch

Will make you his lucky charm when he's gambling 😉

If he won, you're in for a treat! Would spend the money he won on you by buying you new clothes, shoes, jewelry or even a lingerie (more of a gift for him tbh)

Mammon is very caring towards you so when he sees that you're down or upset he'd definitely will try his hardest to cheer you up

Which probably is easy since he's such a fun demon to he around with so you're never bored with him around

I think his nicknames for you that he uses alot is probably 'stupid' or 'human'

Ofcourse he doesn't mean it when hes insulting you though

If he hears anyone insulting you he'd make a scene which sometimes mostly isn't really needed if you dont give a shit about what other demon/people say.

Favorite parts of you he likes to kiss is your cheeks

Leviathan

I've always imagined him as a sweet boy (so breedable)

His love language? Quality time and maybe physical touch <3

He's mostly in his room, so when you invited yourself in and started talking about how you like his interest he'd burst right there and then.

Loves your touch, perhaps abit clingy..? Typa guy who'd snuggle with you in bed while he's playing games or sitting on your lap while he's fighting bosses 👌

has difficulty accepting that you choose to spend time with him or even dating him

If you decide to cosplay just for his eyes only his brain would malfunctioned, face and ears all red flushed

Tbh he'd get just a teeny tiny bit jealous when you pay more attention to henry 2.0 than him but he thinks it's cute that you also care for his little goldfish.

Would call you 'normie' or just by your name

Loves when you reassure him no matter the situation, when he has nightmares or his self-esteem isn't good or more.

Kisses your inner thighs or hand

Satan

Maybe word of affirmation?

Satan would write and reads the poems he made just for you

Most likely he'll read you stories if you're struggling to sleep or has insomnia

he will let you read him the book he's reading while he lays on your lap demanding his head to be stroked as well

Favorite activity with you is reading together in bed the whole day or going to a cat cafe, taking pictures of you holding a cat (would probably make it his wallpaper)

He can be harsh sometimes especially when he just had an argument again with Lucifer and would apologize dearly when he lashes out at you.

Not much of a PDA fan but will hold your hand when the you're going out together

Idk abt nicknames but probably 'kitten' (?) Or 'darling'

Satan will keep every cat item you gave him (keychain, plushie ect)

Kisses your right hand alot along with your lips

Asmodeus

Physical touch 🔛🔝

We all know he's flirty and he won't hide it

He loves PDA so be prepared lmaoo, he'll hold your hand/waist or give you random kisses here and there whether it's on your lips, neck, hand anywhere!

You guys would go on shopping dates ALOT, he loves picking clothes for you and once even tried going in to the changing room with you to "help".

Shopping with him takes pretty long- after buying clothes he goes to buy perfume then shoes then nail polishes then this and that, but no worries he'd spoil you to buy whatever you want there

Asmo buys alot of matching outfits for the both of you

Without you noticing he'd probably buy new toys every now and then for the both of you to try (iykyk)

Another favorite activity he likes to drag you into is warm steamy baths together, just the thought of your bare body touching gets him excited!

Has plenty of nickname for you its uncountable 'sweetie', 'love', 'darling', 'dollface', 'hottie' and 'sexy'

Beelzebub

quality time

This big boy melts like putty when you cook for him, whether it's a dish from where you came from to his favorite foods

Likes to cuddle with you while eating chips, the crumbs tend to get all over you but he has no problem cleaning it up with his mouth

Ask you on a movie date alot (bringing snacks and food is a must!!)

Loves when you're watching him exercise and would be happy if you join him

He'd blush hard if he notice you staring at his body (who wouldn't tbh)

Sometimes but rarely ask his twin brother to join on sleepy dates

Usually would walk behind you or hold your hands, nobody would dare to do anything to you if he's around- he would throw hands if you got physically hurt by someone- so you'll definitely feel safe with him

'honey' or food based stuff is probably his favorite nickname to call you.

I think he'd bite you softly more than kisses, but if he does kisses you it's mostly collarbone or forehead

Belphegor

Like his twin beel, loves quality time with you!

Your dates with him would probably 99.999% be sleepy dates and cuddles

Always ask you to sleep next to him, bodies tangled together and just so comfy he LOVES it!

I personally like to think that he purrs- so imagine him purring loudly while you give him head pats and sleeping on your chest.

Gives you the right airpods/headset so you both can relax while listening to music together, just enjoying each other's company

His body temperature is ice cold so if you're a warm person expect him to cling to you everywhere

If you aren't there he'd probably pouts while hugging his pile of stuffed animals and pillows until you get back

Hogs your lap purposely if you're having a conversation with beel, belphie pretends to be asleep tho he's listening to both of your convo.

Nicknames? I think he'd just call you by your name.

Sleepy kisses on your lips, sometimes sloppy makeout sessions.

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bts-0t-7 · 11 months ago

Text

The Royal Calling | JJK

header by @liveyun Pair: Jungkook x F Reader

Summary: In the midst of surviving, you find yourself in a sticky situation. Your connection with the King, Jeon Jungkook, had you afraid for your life. Certainly, he wouldn’t kill you… Right? But slowly, you figured out your place in the depths of the castle and you yearned to live.

Genre: Fluff, non-idol au, werewolf au, royalty au, strangers to lovers (s2l)

Chapter Warnings: Abuse, PTSD, death, a little bit of self-degradation

A/N: I would have split this into a few different parts if it wasn’t for the fact that I wanted to make sure the year started with an OT7 fic. HEH - I would MAKE IT HAPPENNN- So yes, here is the first 10k+ fic :)) And to @liveyun, thanks for the header. I LUB YOU hehe 💜🌟

WC: 11,051

You were done for.

You knew you were done for.

There was no need for any form of explanation. The moment you stepped into the ballroom, you knew that the talking would start.

Since you were young, you never really knew your parents, only hearing from the pack’s elders that your mother passed away giving birth to you and your father had soon followed after his mate. Your earliest memories of your father weren’t bad at all. You remembered him being all smiley and happy, always doing his best to make you treasured.

So when he didn’t pick you up at kindergarten one day, you grew fussy. The pack alpha had suddenly come and taken you away, telling you the news. Up till today, you could remember the way he broke it to you - with a monotonous voice, void of any remorse or form of emotion.

“Your father died. You will stay with us now and earn your keep.”

That was all you remembered before you were thrown to the kitchen staff. Being young, you didn’t quite grasp the understanding of what was happening. All you could do then was cry. The maids and guards had tried their best to shelter you as you grew up, but with your Alpha ruling, nothing didn’t reach his eyes and ears.

Growing up, you never once cursed your family. With the help and slow-paced learning, you grew to understand the situation of your family thanks to the help of the maids. They always give you the easiest task - the less strenuous ones - taught you all that they knew, and fed you extra portions. The guards would sneak you books and poems and teach you after their shifts. The people in your pack were not all bad.

But as you started growing into adolescence and older, the maids and guards who cared for you grew old as well. So you started taking on their responsibilities, doing the harsh labour work without complaint. Soon, the shelter broke down its walls as well and people started seeing you more often. That was when you got the first taste of real dirt.

“How dare you! You slut! You - you -” The woman in front of you screeched in outrage but you were in a daze. Blood pooled in your mouth as you lay on the ground, unmoving and in shock.

It wasn’t until the alpha came and pulled you up did you attempted to get up on wobbly feet. Only to be shoved down again. “You will not speak, look, or hear to a single person in this pack. You are nothing and no one. Know your place, omega.”

You thought to give people around a chance. You weren’t to say - weak. But as your second gender tells you, you had a disadvantage to the majority of your peers. The guards have taught you self-defense but you never showed signs of using them. You were the runt of the pack and you should know your place. If you showed signs of studies, the alpha would be ruthless to those who taught you.

And you did not need anybody else dying.

So you kept silent and continued to work - not speaking, not looking, not hearing anything that the people in the pack talk about. But you sure were not completely deaf. You knew - you understood - yes, you just stayed unfazed.

And you thought that you could remain unfazed for the rest of your life until the alpha came into the kitchen one day and grabbed you off to the sides, pushing you against the wall and saying, “As much as I hate to let you go, all eligible women must attend the King’s royal ball this Friday. You will not have anything to wear. You will wear what you have on now.” He pushed you against the wall even harsher, arms pressing against your ribcage. You fought to breathe. “If I see that you do not wear this, I will personally strip you myself.”

You shivered at the tone of his voice. Feeling too exposed and humiliated, you nodded as the alpha let you go. You immediately scurried back to the kitchen, breathing deep puffs through your mouth.

“What got you so flushed, darling?” Marion asked.

You shook your head. “Nothing, Aunt. I just - Nothing.”

She knew something was up - you knew that much and was thankful that she did not pry any further.

It was Wednesday when Alpha told you about the ball on Friday. Not that you had anything to prepare, of course. You were forced to wear your housekeeping clothes to the Royal Ball. You had prepared yourself for the extravagance - but it was insufficient. All the cars took you directly outside and everybody was wearing makeup, dressed in the finest gowns, expensive hairpins, and flaring updos.

You, on the other hand, wore rags compared to their dresses, your hair a mess, and in no way anything could be done to it.

You felt the stares and snickers of other ladies as you exited the bus.

You felt so self-conscious.

Everybody from different regions, different backgrounds, different packs - came today to celebrate the King’s birthday in the tradition of a royal ball. You could see the looks of disgust from the court members and sympathy from the royal servants. But you didn’t want to look up. You wanted a large black hole to just swallow you whole - or home would be a good choice too.

“Remember, know your place, omega.” Alpha reminded you before walking off.

You weaved through the mass of beautifully dressed women to a corner of the room. As the orchestra started, you watched with a wistful gaze at the elegance the women possessed in their dances. You watched them through your hair, under your lashes, until ladies caught you and snickered your way.

You could hear the whispers and probes, the hurtful comments that were flung your way. This Friday was not a day where you could keep your emotions at bay with a nonchalant expression.

No. Not today.

You hid behind the curtain of your hair, humiliated and on the verge of tears. You didn’t wish to be here. You truly didn’t. Squeezing your eyes shut, you tried to regulate your shallow breathing. You didn’t want to get punished when you went back to the pack. But if you didn’t get your body under control, you would be.

And you had enough unhealed cuts and bruises - your body couldn’t afford any more for the time being. Your flight response pushed you to react when a group of ladies walked past you, flaunting themselves.

But everybody stopped in their tracks the moment the large oak doors banged open. You flinched at the loud, sudden sound, gaining a glare from your alpha. You weren’t making out alive this time. Loud heavy footsteps approached, a voice powerfully projecting into the room asked, “Where is she?”

All eyes turned to you as you cowered back in fear.

You truly weren’t making it out alive.

You wore rags to the King’s birthday royal ball. Of course you would get a punishment. You just feared what type of royal punishment you would have to face. Beatings back in your pack have already weakened you and if it was any worse than those, you might as well have your soul float to heaven (or crawl to hell) first - before he reaches you.

But nothing goes the way one plans anyway. Expensive, shiny boots stopped in your vision.

Then, you felt a large, warm hand caress your cheek. Squeezing your eyes hard, you anticipated the incoming blow. But you weren’t ready for the man in front of you to ask, “Who did this to you?”

You didn’t dare look up.

“Look at me.”

You were truly done for.

You couldn't figure out if this was a trick order or not - so you kept your head down, afraid of breaking royal protocol. Not that you knew any.

The hand on your cheek moved down to your chin and tilted your head up. Your eyes met with the most chocolate, Bambi eyes you have seen. But they darkened and hardened the moment they grazed your face that your cheeks burned and you immediately averted your gaze.

He doesn’t want us.

Mate doesn’t want us.

“Tell me, who did this to you?”

You didn’t dare answer him. Unable to help yourself, tears streamed down your cheeks from the pressure that you were placed under. It has been boiling and now, being called out and rejected, you didn’t know how to control such immense emotions.

You were not expertly versed in the common language as most of the maids back home spoke mostly the Old Language. You used that more often and only during your nightly classes with the guards did you practise the common language.

Thumbs rubbed your cheek as you found the warmth of another hand landing on your other cheek, wiping away your tears. Slowly, you peeked open your eyes and found yourself looking straight into the eyes of your mate.

The werewolf king.

Jeon Jungkook.

Jungkook hated parties.

Perhaps hate was too harsh a word to use. Dislike was more like it.

Jungkook absolutely disliked parties.

He felt that they were a waste of time and energy. But as the werewolf king, his birthday was always celebrated with a royal ball. Just like all others before him. So he just sucked it up and let the council prepare them. But he has not gone to those parties in years. All he does is make an appearance and leave. Those attendees look for a mate in him and he refuses to mate with anybody that isn’t his true mate.

Call him a romanticist, cause he is.

But of course, the old folks of the council did not appeal his decision. Not that he could care any less. He was 26 and he needed to produce an heir for the kingdom soon. Jungkook felt an impending headache coming his way. Pressing two fingers to his temples, he rubbed them and sighed.

He would wait, even if it was an eternity for his true soul.

Jungkook was in the middle of signing off new policies to be implemented when he smelt a fresh, new scent wafting in the palace. His study was far from the entrance of the palace so he was confused as to how he could sense such a scent from so far away.

Jungkook had always been sensitive to scents since young, therefore his lodgings have been the farthest from the city, located at the back with fresh air and trees. Intrigued, Jungkook got up and followed his instincts. It led him to the ballroom where his supposedly birthday party was held.

Now, he got a clearer waft of the intoxicating scent as he realised the sour notes to it. It made his nose crinkle and brows furrow. Why would one be so afraid? What caused one to be so afraid?

Jungkook couldn’t sense any outbreaks in the room so he wasn’t sure what was causing it. The echoing sounds did not make his headache any better either.

Just as he was about to enter, three guards surrounded him. “Your Majesty,” Paul, the Head Captain, bowed. “Apologies for our tardiness, we did not expect you so early.”

Jungkook was quick to dismiss the apology. “No need, I wasn’t supposed to be here anyways. I was just following instinct.”

He could see the confusion in the guards' faces before Paul said, “We will follow you, Your Majesty.”

Jungkook opened the large doors and demanded, “Where is she?”

All sounds seem to be sucked out of the room in an instant. The next breath, there was an obvious pathway to the scent he had found for the past fifteen minutes. The first thing he saw was your scent. You were cowering in fear - of him or of the attention you were currently receiving, he wasn’t too sure.

Next, he realised your clothes. Why would anybody allow you to wear those? Unless you were a maid in your pack. Even so, this was his royal ball and if his council was to be trusted, not one of the people came in housekeeping clothes. Unless -

The last thing he realised was your bruises. While you did a great job at concealing most of them with your hair, Jungkook could see those peeking under your clothes when you shift on your feet.

Wanting to confirm his suspicions, Jungkook walked towards you, caressing your cheek and tilting your head upwards. He saw your eyes before your bruises - what a beautiful shade they were.

But your bruises. Whoever your pack’s alpha was -

He saw the change in your eyes - from a split second of mesmerisation to hurt and pain and… tears?

Jungkook moved on instinct the moment he felt his hands getting wet. Bringing his other hand up, he wiped your tears off your cheeks. You had scrunched up your eyes and tensed your body as if - as if waiting for a hit, Jungkook realised.

He was pissed. Beyond pissed.

But for you, he would hold it in.

He was afraid of scaring you if he were to show his true colours now. His anger was one thing that the court feared as he was known to do anything that he put his mind to - and he was harder to handle when angry.

When he looked back at you, he saw your eyes slowly opening, revealing the soul that he had waited for forever.

Right then, he knew that he would break down mountains if it meant to keep you safe.

“Find her pack alpha and bring him to me.” Jungkook commanded the guards beside him. Gently tugging on your sleeve, he held out his palm. He saw your hesitancy to take it and decided to just bite the lead and do it. Sliding his hands to yours, he connected them and pulled you along.

Jungkook led you out of the ballroom, ensuring to keep an eye on you at all times to see how much more you can take. “Shall we walk to my quarters? I have a few guest rooms there that you can stay at if you like.”

You nodded your head and followed him. He wasn’t sure what prompted you to trust him so much but he sure wasn’t going to let this chance go to waste.

Leading you to the room one room down from him, Jungkook opened the door and led you in. Turning on the lights, he was about to give you a tour of the room when he spotted you standing still at the threshold. Your eyes were big as your mouth dropped open. Jungkook felt like he could just faint at that very moment. The way your eyes sparkled with mesmerisation, taking everything in was -

“You can stay for as long as you want. Nobody will hurt you here, I can promise you that.” Jungkook proposed. “I know my words won’t cut it but I truly hope you would stay. Even if it’s just for a little while, please?”

The room that the werewolf king had assigned you was beyond any of your imagination. It was extravagant but not too much and their colours flowed beautifully with each other. The werewolf king had begged you to stay and seeing it made you feel a little… bad. So you gave in, nodding. You saw the way his eyes light up and his steps held a little spring in them as he led you around the room.

Cute.

Your eyes widened at the thought. No, no, no. This is the werewolf king. You were not allowed - not worthy - of thinking like that.

“You are allowed to do as you wish here. Nobody will stop you. If you want anything, you can just order it.”

You nodded silently. You didn’t need much.

The clothes in the wardrobe provided you with everything you needed and more. It was more than necessary and you were extremely grateful. The underwear may or may not be your size but one quick look at it made you quite certain with a little adjustments, it would fit just well. As the king familiarised you with the room, he pointed out certain spaces and things that had comfy spaces.

Plushies, plushes, fluffy rugs, fluffy pillows… It felt like fluff heaven.

“My room is just a room down.” The king told you. His hands were in front of him, wringing them as if he were worried about your reactions to how he came off. “And erm… Please just call me Jungkook or Kook or Kookie works too! Or anything you want!”

His Majesty is spiralling.

You nodded but you weren’t going to talk much, you knew that. In case you were to say something wrong, at least you wouldn’t have that chance if you didn’t open your mouth. This way, you would be as safe as possible. You had not seen and experienced the punishments in the royal family. You did not want to push anybody’s buttons to know what goes down behind the doors.

As His Majesty left the room, you walked straight to the bed first, taking the throw and the neatly folded blankets, piling them onto the floor and curling up in the fluff. You did not want to sleep on the bed, lest that this was a trail.

To see how much of the king’s generosity you would take for granted.

You took none, of course. But you did not want others to think that you took it all. Folding the materials over your eyes and covering your body, you fell into an unfruitful sleep.

It had probably been a few hours since you fell asleep but you were woken up by the rumbling of thunder and flashes of lightning. Curling deeper into the warm depths of the blankets, you whimpered, trying to hide away from the sounds. The rumbling reminds you too much of that day when you dug in the mud.

You did not remember much of that day. All that came back was you ferociously digging in the mud of your father’s burial, hysterically begging for him to come back.

“Papa! Papa, please! Papa - Y/N’s sorry! I’m sorry! I promise I’ll be a good girl and do my homework. Papa - please come back - PLEASE-” Soil in your nails, mud water soaking up your skirt, and blood pouring out of your head from the hit you took when sliding down.

You couldn’t believe your ears. You didn’t want to believe.

You father wasn’t dead - your father couldn’t be -

He sent you to school this morning. He looked normal. Why did he leave now?

“PAPA PLEASE! Y/N’s sorry! PAPA PLEASE-”

You were sobbing in the rain, hurting but refusing to move. Only when you heard the head chef, Aunt Marion call for you, her warm hands coming to scoop up your small form and carried you back. That night, she tended to your wounds, the both of you letting the silence speak for itself.

Your grief and sorrow, she knew, will never heal.

Loosing a parent is tough, but you can’t let it squash you.

She cared for you, always giving you more portions for dinner, ensuring that you had more than enough to eat.

After that day, whenever it rained, you always ran to one of the maid’s rooms, hiding under the covers with the warmth of the aunts. They had always soothed you and sung you to sleep. As you grew up, you tried to lessen the times that you went to their room, only occasionally during the harsher seasons do you sleepover in their cots with them.

Now you were all by yourself, in a large room and full length windows, giving you the full view of the lighting and echoing sounds of thunder. Trying to make yourself as small as possible, you squeezed your eeys shut, hoping that you would go back to sleep. But minutes passed and by the time it was past thirty minutes, you were getting tired of trying.

Slowly getting up, you curled the blankets around yourself and let is trail behind you as you walked out of the room. Just as you were exiting the room, lighting struck and thunder boomed, making you flinch and squeak in fright.

You left the door to your room slightly open and stood outside for a few seconds, trying to figure out what to do next. Deciding to follow your scents and instincts, you walked down to the room beside the spiral staircase, the largest door in the level.

You stood outside, hands formed in a fist as you contemplated knocking or not. Deciding to knock incase you interrupt something you shouldn’t, you winced a the sound echoing throughout the silent hallway.

When nobody opened the door, you bit the lead and opened it slightly, peaking in to see His Majesty staring at you with a bed hair sticking in all directions. His sleepy eyes squinted and roamed your form, making you feel self-conscious. It seem to take a while for him to relasie that you were standing there.

But by then, you were already squeaking out a “sorry” and closed the door.

Jungkook was having a good dream.

A brilliant dream - to be honest.

He was playing around in a field of flowers, prancing around like a kid again. Rolling about in the mud and making his fur dirty - oh, he couldn’t care less.

It felt nice to be free.

But he was woken up by the sudden rapping against his bedroom door.

Jungkook was known to be a heavy sleeper. He does not wake easily so when he woke up, distorted at the sound, Jungkook found himself wondering why he even woke up. It wasn’t until his sleep-muggled brain registered that you were standing at his door, wrapped up in layers of blankets. Your soft apology made it to his ears and he immediately left the warm confinements of his bed.

“Hey-” He winced at his own voice cracking, hoarse from the lack of use.

At least it stopped you from completely closing his door.

Your little eyes peaked through the small hole left between the door and Jungkook felt like he could melt right there and then. You looked adorable in the buddles of blankets. Walking to the door, he gently opened it, afraid that is he moves too fast it might frighten you.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He carefully brought his hands up to you, not forgetting the way your instincts acted up at the ball a few hours ago. He did not want to trigger anything he doesn’t understand or know, much less give you a reason to fear him.

You shook your head at his question, your luscious locks waving with the direction.

Just then, lightning stuck, lighting up the whole room as the loud snap of the thunder followed. You jumped, whimpering as you hid in the thick blankets even more.

The storm.

You were afraid of the storm.

Running his hand through his sleep-mussed hair, he pushed the door open and slid his hands through yours, gently tugging you into his room. He felt a sense of pride when he realised that you had came to his room, seeking his comfort.

Leading you to the bed, he brought back the thick quilt and gestured for you to get in. You stood a the foot of his bed for a few seconds, hesitant to enter until Jungkook sat on the bed and gave your linked hands a little pull. Giving in, you entered his bed as he tucked you in. Heading to the other side of the bed, Jungkook crawled in and snuggled beside you.

Oh, how much he just wanted to wrap his arms around you but he did not want to frighten you.

He watched as you slowly fell asleep, curling into yourself while facing him, soft whispers coming out of your mouth. Smiling to himself, Jungkook tucked the quilt higher, making sure that you were warm before falling asleep himself.

He woke up the next morning before you did. The gloomy weather made it a comfortable weather to sleep in but he had things to complete - one of them being setting a suitable punishment for your old alpha. He had a hint who it was, seeing the old egoistic man glare at you when he lead you out of the ballroom.

Suitable punishment.

Jungkook scoffed. That old man should be hung for treating the queen that way.

Looking over, Jungkook found your sleeping form curled up against his. A soft smile grew on his lips as he brought a gentle hand up to your cheek, tucking your hair behind your ears. He didn’t know what were your boundaries to cross and not to cross so he did not -

Sighing, he carefully extracted himself off of your hold. He wanted to get the punishment over with before you woke up. Your brows furrowed as you mumbled in you sleep. Pushing his heavily scented pillow in your hold and pulling the quilt higher, you easily fell back asleep. Quietly, Jungkook got himself ready for the day and left the room.

Soft silky texture glided through your hands as you struggled to force yourself awake. You had to get up and do the chores. You were sure your alarm had -

Your alarm!

You shot out of bed, hands flinging in the direction of your clock only to collide with a vase of flowers instead. You did not manage to catch it in time and it crashed onto the floor. Jumping out of the bed, you forced your sudden disorientation to go away. Dizzy, you got to your knees as you started to frantically pick up the pieces.

You were going to get punished either way, it is better if you clean up before His Majesty comes back in. This way, you hoped to get a lighter punishment for destroying his properties.

Hurried footstep sounded your way and you sped up the process, trying to finish the impossible before -

You were brought out of your thoughts when blood started trickling onto the floor, staining the quilt of the red. By now, you were fricking out. The large doors banged open and large boots stopped in front of you and warm hands caught yours.

“Darling!”

You pried your hands out of his, trying to continue with your work.

Please, please, please - don’t punish me so harshly. Please, please, please -

But the warm hands did not move. They held yours firmly.

“Hey, hey. Look at me, look at me.” You shook your head. You needed to continue. You couldn’t speak, look, or hear. You were nothing.

The same set of hands pulled you to your feet and out of the area where the broken ceramic lie. You fought out of the hold but he was firm. “Look at me, look at me.”

His hands came to your cheeks, forcing your eyes to meet his. “Follow my breathing. Follow me.”

One, two, one, two, three.

This went on all while you could hear the maids cleaning up the broken pieces. As your breathing calmed down, the adrenaline started to wear off and you felt exhausted. Gentle pats to your back did not help the heaviness of your eyelids. In fact, it made them worse. You were just about to fall back asleep when a sudden clearing of throat on your left jolted you awake.

Remembering where you were and in what position you were at, you immediately scrambled off. Bowing, head to the ground and palms up, you begged for His Majesty’s forgiveness. But you did not dare to talk lest you say anymore things to trigger his anger. You could only hope His Majesty would understand your position.

You felt hands grab you around your armpits and you flinched, waiting for a blow. But when none came, you pried open your eyes to see your surroundings. His Majesty was sitting on the floor beside you, holding you up while caressing your cheek.

“Hey darling.”

You blinked. Were you not going to be punished for your incompetence?

“I told you that nobody would hurt you here.” His Majesty pointed to himself. “Not even me. If I hurt you, you have all the rights to do as you wish with me.”

You were confused. You were suppose to be the one who is at fault. Why is His Majesty the looking like a guilty puppy?

As the both of you sat together, you took the time to observe the room and soon realised that the both of you were the only ones inside. Suddenly feeling conscious, you ducked your head, letting your hair cover half of your face. As you looked down, you saw that your palms were tended to. The blood has stopped flowing and they were firmly bandaged.

The silence between you stretched long and thin that you decided to get up and clean up the rest of the mess. Walking over, you expected to see half changed sheets or leftover flowers and water on the floor. But all you see is clean, crisp sheets and a new vase with a different set of flowers sitting on the table.

Turning back around, you were about to get on your knees to apologise again when His Majesty stopped you. “That’s enough.” You faltered.

Uh-oh.

“No more bowing, no more apologies.” His Majesty put out his palms, facing them up. Why is he placating you? “Can you do that for me? No more saying sorry. Break what you want to, don’t apologise for it. Okay?”

You didn’t agree to it.

You couldn’t agree to it. There has to be a catch somewhere. Life is never so easy.

“In return,” There is it. “I would like you to go for fittings tomorrow and find out your hobbies. I want to know what you like and what you dislike. Is it a fitting enough trade?”

NO! NO IT WASN’T!

You were suppose to be told to do cleaning, top to bottom, ensure that the whole castle deos not have a single speck of dust or something! You were -

“You are my mate. You are the future Queen of the kingdom. You may do as you wish. I will not stop you and nobody will stop you. But I think we should go -”

“O-okay.” You croacked. You had not spoken for more than a day, voice cracking at the lack of use.

You saw His Majesty’s eyes light up like a kid on Christmas and you swear your heart stumbled.

“Okay, okay… erm… What’s your name?”

The favour has started.

“Y/N. L/N Y/N, Your Majesty.” You whispered, seeing his brows furrow at the title.

“Jungkook is fine, darling.”

Darling -

(Ehm.)

You nodded.

“Say it.”

You were hesitant. I mean - who wouldn’t? The king of werewolves is asking you to say his given name, jumping up and down like a bunny, eyes sparkling when he looks at you. “Say it, say it.”

You blinked multiple times at him. Is he… for real? Is this a test?

“Please? You can’t call me by my title. I refuse.”

… You weren’t certain if you were in front of the king or a kid.

“Ju-Jungkook.”

The king shot up from the loveseat he was on and clapped his hands. “Now just call me that from now on and -”

The doors opened to reveal a man clad in an expensive suit and glasses sitting neatly on the bridge of his nose. He held a stack of books and papers in his arms. You instantly looked down, afraid to look the man lest he is someone you should never piss off.

“Well, I heard a commotion and decided to come up to take a peak. Guess it was cleaned up before I could come in.” The man said. God, it must have been a test. And you failed it.

“Namjoon Hyung!” His Majesty bounded over to the man and gave him a big hug.

“Hey Kook.” You envied their easy affection for each other. You were only mates to the king by bond but his heart is somewhere else. You didn’t want to stay and intrude any further. Ducking your head even further down to your chest, you mumbled out a soft apology and bolted to your room. You had overstayed your stay and it is time to go back.

To reality.

Jungkook felt the ache in his chest before you left.

And then he felt it grow that he winced at the pain, rubbing over the area, trying to ease it up. But he knew that there was nothing that could ease up the pain unless it you felt happier. He wanted to introduce you to his Hyung. Surely, he did not expect him to be out of the library, but he thought that it was a good way to slowly introduce you to his inner circle of the council. The very people who help him make the choices and keep the kingdom safe.

But the moment you saw Namjoon, he could see the light leave your eyes as you ducked your head lower. He was about to call out to you when you bolted off, and all Jungkook heard was hte soft thud of a room door closing.

Sighing, Jungkook pushed his hair back. Namjoon came into the room, putting down his books before saying, “That girl is scared. You can’t rush it.”

“I know. But it’s just… So hard.”

“Patience Kook, patience.”

So with nothing much to do, the both of them sat in the room and went through the piles of letters, policies, and numerous talks on philosophy. As the morning soon turned to afternoon, the servants came in to inform Jungkook that you had your lunch in the room. He was relieved to hear that you ate. Afternoon then turned to evening and when the servants entered the dining room where he was eating with the rest of his inner circle, they informed him that you weren’t eating.

More like refusing to eat.

You would tell the servants to leave the food there but when they went back an hour later, the food was untouched and you were bundled in a corner of the room - refusing to move. Jungkook sighed and looked at the food infront of him, appetite now long gone. Ordering for a bowl of porridge, he piled it up with meat, vegetables, and crispy rolls. He wasn’t sure what you liked and what you didn’t like so this wild guess was… truly a wild one.

Heading up to your room with the bowl and spoon in hand, he knocked on your door. Hearing no answer, he knocked again. This time he pushed open the door and entered. The first thing he saw were your neatly piled clothes on the bed and then your bundled form on the floor, covered in layers and layers of fluffy blankets.

Jungkook took a note that you liked anything plush and fluffy. Putting the bowl and spoon on the bedside table, he softly walked over to you, however purposefully creaking a few floorboards to inform you of his presence.

And it worked, of course. Your ears twitched and sleepy eyes travelled up to meet his. Kneeling on the ground to get to your eye level, Jungkook held out his hand to your snout. You sloppily sniffed him up before uncurling and dragging the blankets along with you by your bum. Jungkook chuckled at your attempt and slid himself closer, allowing you to rest your sleepy head on his thighs.

Stroking your silky grey ears, you let out a tummy rumble.

“I’m sorry for just now. I didn’t know Namjoon Hyung was coming. Things will go at your pace, I promise. Plus, Namjoon Hyung has a mate so don’t you worry your little furry head over the word ‘jealousy’, okay? They are happily mated.” Jungkook chuckled. He figured out why you left when he was reading a poetry on Achilles and Patroclus. “Namjoon Hyung is part of my inner circle in the council and I hope to be able to introduce you to them one day. We… We can be quite chaotic and I don’t want you to run away right now.”

Jungkook half-hugged the frame of your wolf. “I can’t let you go!” Jungkook sobbed hysterically.

Your wolf below him huffed as if knowing his little tricks.

The both of you sat in comfortable silence as Jungkook’s hand continued to stroke through your fur, providing you with a sense of comfort while his body heat warmed you. An alpha’s body heat is naturally higher than an omega’s and is able to better regulate itself compared to yours. It wasn’t until a particularly harsh wind forced the windows shut, the bang of it causing you to jum up in fright.

Bringing your head to his, Jungkook told you with stern eyes, “You have to eat dinner. It has turned cold. Even the wind agrees.”

Getting up, Jungkook left you whining and trailing after him. After ensuring that the windows are shut and locked, he picked up the bowl of food and sat on the bed, patting the side as a gesture for you to join him up. Leaping, you curled around him, seeking his warmth again.

“No, no, no. No going back to bed. Come on.” Jungkook lifted your head off the bed and pinched your tail, earning a yap and flick. “Come on. Shift back and have some food then you can go back to sleep.”

Your eyes slid to him before flattening to slits as if you were the one hunting him. That made a sense of fear and adrenaline course through him. But before he can say anything, you jumped off the bed and headed for the wardrobe, emerging later in comfortable pajamas.

Holding the bowl out to you, Jungkook wasn’t sure if you wanted to eat by yourself or -

You plopped down beside him and opened you mouth.

Well… Safe to say, he chose the wrong option.

You wanted to be fed. So Jungkook obliged his sleepy mate, ensuring that every bite goes down before he feeds you another. You did not make it through half the bowl before you started falling asleep on him again so Jungkook decided that it was a better option to just let you sleep rather than to force you food. Careful with your hair, Jungkook laid you on the bed before going to the washroom and coming back with a warm cloth to wipe your mouth.

Your hands seeked his warmth as he left the bed. Tucking you in, Jungkook turned off the lights - save for the washroom’s - and cracked open the windows, ensuring that it would not close in the middle of the night. Then he slid into bed with you immediately wrapping yourself around him.

It felt like just a few hours ago he woke up in a similar position. Now, he went to sleep with the both of you working to better understand the other.

You woke up to light snores and a curly head of hair in your face. Squinting at the sunlight that streamed through the curtains, you hid your face in the being next to you. Colliding with a warm chest, you tilted your head up to see His Majesty’s sleeping form beside you.

Turning the wheels back, you recalled what happened last night and decided that it was not a good idea to scream.

Namjoon Hyung has a mate.

Don’t worry your fluffy head over this.

I would like to introduce you to them one day.

Things will go at your pace, I promise.

Perhaps, you could try. If His Majesty is trying for you, why say you can’t do the same? It is a choice that you knew only you could make.

We can be a little chaotic.

You could try. There was nobody to say - significant - in your life to introduce to His Majesty but he does. So you would like to know his friends as well. You were good at cooking, Aunt Marion has taught you much.

I want to know your likes and dislikes.

Deciding that you would make something that you loved for him to try as breakfast, you tried to shimmy your way out of his hold. But all he did was groan and turn over, essentially caging you between in body and the bed. Trying to wiggle out of his hold, all you did was wake him instead.

“No…” His Majesty mumbled. “Noooo… Don’t goooo…”

“Let me out, please. I need the washroom, Your Majesty.”

His brows furrowed before groggily lifting his arm to let you escape. You left for the washroom to get ready and when you came back to the bedroom, His Majesty was already back in the dreamland. Lightly laughing, you toed out of the room and started exploring His Majesty’s lodging area. You had noted that it was the furthest from civilisation and had the well… best view, you suppose. Whenever you looked out, it was trees and forest. It made your wolf extremely happy. She was allowed to prance around without anybody scolding her.

Carefully, you walked down steps until there were none and stopped. Now you didn’t know where to go. Not that you left much - you weren’t even certain how many stories you had climbed down.

Eyes fluttering around, you start to grow nervous. You were in a completely new environment and you just… explored the place on your own?

Just as you were about to throw in the towel and head back up to probe His Majesty for directions, a chirpy “hello” broke you out of your trance. Whipping your head around, you stumbled backwards, barely catching your footing before you fell. In front of you stood a male with eyes like smiles and a lovely demeanour.

Hoping that he wouldn’t be nasty, you cautiously asked, “Hello, may I know where the kitchen is?”

The man looked at you in shock. You weren’t sure why until he replied to you in the common language did you realise… you slipped back. “Hi! I’m Jimin.”

“I’m Y/N.” You replied softly.

“Cool that you know the Old Language. Not many people know how to speak that anymore.” Jimin spoke with you with the comfort of the Old Language. His accent was much heavier, slurring the words at the end as they moulded around his lips.

“The older folks in my pack understood mainly the Old Language so I picked up along the way.”

The both of you struck up conversations as Jimin led you to the kitchen. It was more of Jimin talking and you giving him one or two-word answers. It wasn’t that you did not have your fair share of socialisation. No, you had your classes, you knew how to talk - you just didn’t want to. Circles and circles the both of you walked, turns and turns he led you through, until you stopped by a set of large doors, wide open as you smelt the aroma wafted out. Feeling the sudden hunger, your stomach grumbled.

“Are you… Hungry?” Jimin chuckled.

You shook your head.

Heading over to a chef, you slowly asked him, “May I know where the vegetables, seasoning, and dry ingredients are?”

The chef wiped the sweat off his forehead and pointed in their respective directions. Thanking him, you looked through each section and then headed for the refrigerator. You knew what you were going to make - one that Papa always made for you and a recipe that Aunt Marion learnt from you.

You always craved them on days when you missed your dad and rainy weather. You never liked loud, harsh sounds and the fear amplified on that rainy day. It was your comfort food, one that was a staple in your diet. Sometimes, you’ll catch Aunt Marion making them early in the morning. You wondered how His Majesty would react to a food like this. Would he like it as much as you do or would he dislike it and ban it from the castle? You weren’t sure how you were going to survive without it.

After collecting all the ingredients needed, you walked over to the prepping station. Mixing the flour, salt, sugar, and grated garlic in a bowl, half a cup of yougurt, butter and lukewarm milk were poured in. With extra milk and butter on the side, you started mixing the ingredients to form a dough. Kneading until the dough gave a soft, elastic, and pliable texture, you covered it in a damp cloth and let it sit in a warm place. While the dough is resting, you turn to another station, bringing with you seven cloves of garlic and coriander leaves.

Finely slicing the garlic cloves, you felt a sense of deja vu. Remembering when you used to help Papa make them for school time snacks so that you could share them with your friends. Shaking your head, you placed the garlic in a small dish before lightly washing the coriander leaves and finely chopping them.

“What are you making?” You heard Jimin question you.

“My comfort food.”

You turned around with the bowls in your hand, heading back to the prepping station when you saw Jimin pinching the cloth to lift it and peek under. Placing the bowls beside him, Jimin flinched, looking up at you with a sheepish expression.

“Oops?”

You walked back to the station and washed up the chopping board and knives. Heading back to where Jimin stood, you uncovered the dough. Lightly greasing your fingers, you divided the dough into eight parts. You preferred smaller pieces, one that can be eaten quicker. Rolling them into balls, you arranged them back into the bowl neatly, covering them with the cloth again. It is important to keep them covered so that the dough does not lose its moisture.

Sprinkling a little flour on the rolling board, you started rolling out the dough. Once you determine that it is a good size, sprinkle on some sliced garlic and coriander leaves. Slightly rolling them to stick, you set them aside, covering them with another damp cloth as you work on the rest of the dough.

With the help of another chef, you managed to locate a non-stick pan and heat it over medium heat. Once the pan is deemed hot enough, you place a little water at the bottom of the naan before putting it onto the pan. When bubbles start to form, flip it, cooking until the other side forms bubbles as well. Flaming it on the other side directly on the stove gives the naan a little charred spots.

Oh, those were your favourites.

Once the naan is fully cooked, it is transferred to a cooling rack and as the others are cooking, you smear some butter on top with an extra garnish of coriander leaves.

Constantly moving about, you usually wrap the naan in cloth, putting it in the small pocket under the apron you wore. So now looking at the cooling naan on the rack, you wondered what you could dip with it. Making it with ur favourite paneer butter masala is a no since you do not have enough time.

“Why think so much? Just give it to him like that.”

You would love to but you were afraid that he would be offended that this was all you give him. A king is supposed to have a spread, not just one item.

“Jungkook will like anything you make.” Jimin went over to the refrigerator and took out an unopened carton of banana milk. “Just give him with this. He raids the kitchen for this every morning either way.” Jimin placed the milk in your hands.

Turning the carton over, you contemplated. You were afraid to be punished for not providing your king with what he deserves but his sworn brother told you that it does not truly matter. On the other hand, siblings can prank each other and you do not want to get in the middle of it. Then again, you didn’t know who else to listen to other than either yourself or Jimin.

“If you’re thinking whether or not I am giving you the wrong information, trust me,” Jimin placed a hand on his chest and propped his right leg on a stool. “I would never give you the wrong sort of information. Plus, I haven’t given you anything to put me as a prankster and liar right?”

It was anything but right as Jimin’s eyes bore into yours with that mischievous smile. You were suspicious - for certain and with a good reason, no less - but you decided to try. Plating the naan and carrying the milk (it honestly made you raise your brows at it), you walked out of the kitchen. But just as you took a step out, you realised that… you didn’t know how to go back to His Majesty’s room.

You turned back to ask Jimin to bring you along but you already found him behind you. You walked a little behind Jimin as he led you back. It was only when Jimin led you to the lift lobby did you realise, you took the hard and long way down.

When you were outside His Majesty’s room, you could hear the soft snores through the doors. You had expected that His Majesty would have woken up by now considering that it was nine in the morning.

“This is where I leave you. It was nice knowing you, My Lady. I hope to see you around soon.” Jimin bowed to you before walking back into the lift.

Taking a deep breath, you opened the door and walked in. Lightly closing it behind you, you treaded on careful waters, placing the food on the bedside table before poking His Majesty’s arm in an attempt to wake him up.

“Hmmm…”

Poke.

“Hmmm…” His Majesty’s brows furrowed.

Poke. Poke. Poke. “Your Majesty.”

“Hmm…?”

“Your Majesty, I made something. Would you like to try?”

Jungkook was disoriented.

He thought you had come back to bed. When did you leave again?

Jungkook yawned as he sat up in the bed, staring at you. You were standing at the edge of his side of the bed, poking him awake.

“Your Majesty, I made something. Would you like to try?”

Sure. He would love to.

“Hmm…” He nodded but whined in retaliation when he didn’t manage to grab onto you in time as you left to walk around the bed.

His sleepy eyes followed you the entire time and you came back with a carton of his favourite banana milk - how did you know? - and a plate of… bread? Jungkook got more alert. Oh, how he loves bread! Anything that contains flour is his favourite. Reaching for the food on the plate in an instant, he tore into it with a content sigh. It was only halfway through that he realised that the bread was not the usual one the servants would bring him. It was softer and held more flavour.

“Hmmm!” Jungkook looked at you. “Hmm! What is this? It’s good!”

He saw the way you ducked your head as your cheeks turned a dusty shade of pink. Oh, how cute you were. Jungkook could abandon the bread in his hand to chew on your cheeks instead.

“It’s garlic butter naan. My dad used to always make it for me so that I could bring it to school and share it with my friends. It became my comfort food.” He observed that you were fighting the itch to cover yourself. “I’m glad you like it, Your Majesty.”

Jungkook was proud that you tried to open up to him. He was beyond happy.

“I like it. How long can they keep for?”

Your furrowed brows made him go into another mini heart attack. “For normal naan, I’d say to keep its freshness, a month in the freezer should be good and about five days at room temperature.”

Jungkook chewed on the naan as he nodded. “How much can you make?”

“It depends on how long I am permitted in the kitchen, Your Majesty.”

There’s that again. Jungkook was not disappointed - just a little sad that you still didn’t trust him enough.

“There is the main kitchen and the kitchen in this tower. You can use any for however long you like. There are no limitations. There are no limitations here, okay?”

You nodded at him.

The silence dragged on comfortably as Jungkook continued to munch on his breakfast and drink his daily calcium while playing with your fingers. Your slender hands have done too much work - but Jungkook wouldn’t say. If you decide to continue with reading and sword training, he would be more than happy to oblige you.

But not housekeeping.

He hoped you would no longer think that you must clean the castle. Some servants are in charge of cleaning up and he hoped that you would leave it to them to do most of the work.

“Your Majesty,” You turned to him. “I… I would like to learn how to properly fight and -”

“I have a friend who can help you! He commands the First Battalion!”

“You,” Your eyes looked like they shined a thousand stars. “You would allow me to fight, Your Majesty?”

You said it with such hope in your voice that it hurts Jungkook’s heart. Exactly what did they do to you that the simplest indulgent made you look like that? If you wanted to fight, you may; if you wanted to read and create new things, you may; hell, if you wanted to burn the whole world down, he’ll burn it down with you.

Perhaps with a few exceptions.

“Of course.”Jungkook brought his hand to your hair and hooked the strays behind your ear. “You don’t need anybody’s permission to do anything.”

You looked so happy a that moment, eyes shining as if they were a thousand stars in the galaxy.

“Come on. Let’s dress you in simple clothes today.”

“Oh! It’s you!” A head of brown locks dashed up to you and you were sure with his built, you would have tumbled onto the ground by now if it wasn’t for a bold hand grabbing him from the fabric of his waist and pulling him back.

“Tae! Don’t be so rash!” The tall man chided him.

“Aw, come on! I just wanted to give her a hug!” The man in his hold - Tae - thrashed and whined. But the man held firm.

“You don’t know what she’s been through, don’t be so rash. What if all of our waiting goes back to square one because you wanted to give her a hug?”

You understood where they are coming from. They were afraid to wait longer to see you and you suppose you shouldn’t let them wait any longer. Pushing down your fears, you sturdily (at least you hoped it appeared sturdy) curtsied to the group of men in front of you. “Good morning. I am L/N Y/N. It is a pleasure to meet you.” Frequent pratice allowed the common language to smoothly roll off your tongue.

“You’re quite educated, I see?” The same man that held back Sir Tae spoke, pushing up his glasses. His built - tall and muscular - made you feel like an ant next to him.

“The guards and scholars would teach me in the night.”

The man nodded, bowing at ninety degrees. “Scholar Namjoon, Your Majesty. I am pleased to be at your service.”

Oh, he certainly looks like a scholar. While you never interacted with anybody during the morning to avoid any form of suspicions and rumours to spread in the pack, you have came across scholars at all hours of the day. They were always dressed to their finest, topped with the exuberance of elegance surrounding them. Even as the scholars who teach you during the night, wearing nothing more than a turnic and pants, remain that grace.

Observing three of the similarly dressed men in the group, you deduced that they must all be scholars. Their clothing were prim, not a single wrinkle in sight. Even their ties were neatly tucked under their double-vested vests that are adorned with gold buttons. Their boots shine under their high waisted pants with silk gloves in the pockets of the coat. One of them took out a pocket watch before whispering in another shorter man’s ears. He stood tall himself as the man he looked over you.

His eyes were as sharp as a cat’s and you felt stripped under his gaze. Bowing, the man introduced himself. “Yoongi, Your Majesty.”

You curtsied back to him.

“Jungkook told us you had quite the… harsh upbringing.” Scholar Namjoon started. Wait - Jungkook? Not His Majesty? His Excellency? His.. something other than his name?! “But it seems that you had good teachers.”

You hastily looked over at His Majesty, eyes peeking from under your brows as they furrowed. You hoped that he wouldn’t be too angry that his people did not call him by his title. His Majesty looked over at you and smiled - and you felt like you’ve drifted.

Turning back to the waiting group, you answered. “The guards and scholars in my previous pack have taught me well.”

A head poked out from across the wall before bounding over to your side. “My Lady! What are you doing here? Lost again?” Jimin whipped his head to the group and glared at the males in front, eyes saying What are you guys up to?

“Do you know each other?”

Jimin’s ears seem to pique at that question. “Yep! I’ve been with them since young! The seven of us are an inseparable group you know? Of course, with Jungkook at the head of the table.”

“Ju-Jungkook?” Your face pales again as your heart hammered in your chest.

Please don’t be mad. Please don’t be mad.

“Plus, he’s the youngest out of all of us so we get to tease him forever.” A male slapped His Majesty’s butt. His Majesty whined.

Oh no… Oh no, they’ve done it now. Violating the king’s sense of -

“Hey Y/N darling,” Large hands encompassed your cheeks. “Don’t worry. They’re always like that and they practically raised me through my adolescent years. Their my brothers. It’s alright, it’s alright.”

Brothers?

Oh?

Oh.

Your cheeks dusted a shade of pink as you held in the urge to bury your burning face in his Majesty’s cloak. Instead, your grip tightened on the fabric as you tried to cool down the rising heat. Jungkook can see the way you were holding back on running so he cupped the back of your neck and gently tugged you to his chest. With your head buried, you tightened you grip even more, as if he would disappear the moment you let go.

“Darling?” Jungkook brushed your hair back, fingers threading thorough your loose locks. “Can I introduce you to them?”

You nodded, turning back to the group of boys waiting for your reply. His Majesty pointed to each one of them and started, “This is Namjoon, Yoongi, and Jimin, as you know. This is Soekjin, but you can just call him Jin.” He was the man who took out his pocket watch. “This is Hoseok or Hobi.” The cheerful guy who was clad in simple but expensive tunic and pants. “And lastly, this is Taehyung.” He was the one who wanted to give you a hug. You should return it sometime soon.

Curtsying to the group, you quickly went back to the hold of your mate. You could see the cooing faces and lips that they were making and it made you blush even more. His Majesty suddenly spoke, breaking the electricity between the group.

“Y/N wants to learn how to properly fight. Jimin, could you teach her?” Sir Jimin burst in front of you, hair flying all over his face as he grinned at you.

“Of course! I would never turn down time with My Lady!” Sir Jimin’s eyes roamed your body and you can see the calculations turning in his mind. The look was quickly removed, as he held out a hand to you. “Let’s start now. Shall we?”

Timidly, you placed your hand in his and let him drag you away.

“Wait- what?! I didn’t mean now!”

You turned your head to see the other boys holding His Majesty back. But you could see that there was not much struggles coming from his as well. Waving your hand at him, you continued to allow Sir Jimin to lead you around and through some turns. Sir Jimin was excitedly blabbing on about how much they have waited to meet you and you felt a little bad.

As the both of you stopped at the training ground, you saw the rings, an assortment of weapons, and so many different types of training elements. When in your old pack, you learned archery and swordmanship. The guards would teach you defense and ensure that you could fight but this -

Goodness… You have never seen anything like it!

“Shall we start?” You turned back to Sir Jimin. “I’ll have to evaluate your strengths and weaknesses before I start to teach you anything.”

Throwing you a wooden sword, you easily caught it as you prepped your stance. But Sir Jimin was fast. He was much faster and agile compared to the guards in your old pack - and no, he did not go easy on you. Bringing the sword up to block the unexpected blow, you willed strength in your arms as you fought, putting more distance between the both of you. The both of you fought and your breath started getting shorter and heavier. You had to finish this quick.

Summoning more energy into your movements, you kept light on your feet as you bounded over to Sir Jimin, feigning an attack to his right but tunring left at the last second. You hooked your foot over his and pulled, whirling to his back as you used his weight and temporary shock to pull him down and turned him onto his front. You layed the dull wood of the slab onto his neck.

You were panting for your breath and landed in a heap over Sir Jimin. He looked like he was still in shock so you leaned forward to poke his cheek, trying to find out if he was still alive. When he didn’t move, you frowned. Feeling the man’s head for any bumps of blood for any signs of concussion, you wee certian you didn’t hit his head too hard to cause him to pass.

Just as you were about to call for help, you heard footsteps coming closer towards hte both of you. Shoes scuffed on the rough terrain of the training ground and your fight has not left you. Turning on your heels, you prepped yourself for another fight. You weren’t sure who or what you were going to fight but you needed to ensure you adn Sir Jimin made it out alive.

Even if he might probably be… dead?

But when you looked up, you say His Majesty staring at the both of you together with Scholar Taehyung at his side. Only then did you realise the position you and Sir Jimin were in. Your body leaned over his as you sat on the curve of his back, Sir Jimin unmoving below you. The silence between the four of you stretched long.

“Damn.” You flinched at sudden movement below you.

Snapping out of your daze, you leaped off Sir Jimin. You held off jumping to His Majesty as feelings overcame you. You didn’t want him to be mad but you didn’t know his boundaries to his emotions. You were caught in a compromising position by your own mate and you did not want to trigger anything else you shouldn’t.

But His Majesty hopped over and around you, jumping around you like an excited bunny. “Finally! We have finally found the savious to shutting Jimin up! HAHA!”

You stood there, confused.

“Jimin has always prided himself in being the best swordsman amongst our group and he would not stop bragging about it everytime we ask him for a duel. But now that you have flopped him on his ass-”

“Yah! Stop it!” You turned your head to Sir Jimin. He was dusting himself off and stomping over towards the three of you. “Stop bringing down my hard-earned reputation!”

His Majesty and Scholar Taehyung rolled on the floor laughing. Then you heard a squeaky laugh from your side as well, one that sounded like when you cleaned the windows. The sound as the cloth passed the dry windows.

Flinching, you turned to your left, finding Scholar Seokjin bent over his knees, pointing to the trio as he tried to mouth something but the words couldn’t get out. His wheezing form coupled with his squeaky laugh made you chuckle. When you couldn’t hold in your laughter anymore, you followed along with the group, their contagious laughter enveloping your senses.

It was then that you realised - this is what home feels like. You still had a long way to recovery, perhaps never even a chance to return to how you were as a kid. But growth is needed if one wanted to live. But these people have taught you the true feeling of being at ease, feeling safe. And you were certaintly grateful for those you now call friends and mate.

Wiping the tears from your eyes, you observed the clear sky with a few clouds looking like animals floating by. You hoped that your previous pack would be able to have a better leader soon. Nobody should live in fear and you wished that they would be able to see better days. Turning around, you followed the Scholars, Sir Jimin, and His Majesty. This time, as His Majesty slid his hand to yours, you didn’t hesitate to grab onto it, swinging your connected palms as the five of you walked into the future.

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