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rafetopia · 5 months

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𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐝𝐨 𝐮𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭

-𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!kook!reader

genre: smut & angst -> 18+!!

words: ~3k

warnings: dom!rafe & subby reader, prison sex, “public” sex in a sense you can be possibly watched and heard, (slight) daddy kink, (sexual) choking, hair pulling, blackmailing, bribery, mentions of an affair (not r & r), fingering, slight handjob, mentions of violence and tiny teeny bit of soft!rafe

summary: you visit your fiancé in jail after his arrest

note: i want to say big thank you to @rafesthroatbaby for giving me this wonderful idea (i really hope i did it justice) and to @rvfecamerons for beta reading and helping me improving this piece!!! love you guys to pieces!!

The moment you walked through the doors of the Kildare's Detention Center, you had all eyes on you. The way your cute little summer dress hugged your curves and emphasized your tits, combined with the pastel pink heels and the way you were carrying yourself, was just impossible for anyone to miss. You pulled out your phone and opened your camera, using it as a mirror to apply your lipstick. When your gaze met one of the officers, you gave him a genuine but exaggerated smile, before making your way over to him, making sure to swing your hips a little bit more than usual.

“Good afternoon, officer.” You smirked. “I’m here to see Rafe Cameron.”

“Mr. Cameron isn’t allowed any visitors. Have a nice day.” He bluntly spoke, not interested in any further interaction.

“Oh, but he sure is.” You smiled innocently, before leaning over the counter until you were really close to the man in front of you. “And you’re gonna let me see him.”

“And why is that?”

You smiled devilishly, as leaned towards the man, now only inches away from his face. “Because I’m sure you know who my family is and that I am capable of shredding every single one of you and your corrupt and very much incompetent colleagues to pieces if you don’t grant me that teeny tiny request to see my man..” You paused, “Starting with you and the little affair you have been going on with the mayor's wife.”

His expression shifted as he listened to your threads, knowing that you were indeed serious. You saw how he was fighting with his thoughts and he knew this was bad but he couldn’t risk you exposing the entire department and especially not his affair.

“Fine.” He mumbled as he looked from left to right, making sure that nobody was listening in. “Wait here.”

He came back around five minutes later and guided you towards what you assumed to be the room, where your fiancé was waiting. He was about to open the door when you stopped him.

“See, Officer Wilson, my man and I didn’t have a lot of privacy recently… so I need you to make sure that we will have that.”

“Absolutely not.”

You gave him a disappointed look before reaching into your bag once again. You pulled out a 100-dollar bill and stuffed it into his pocket, before leaning towards his ear. “See, if you would be so kind and look away…might even let you watch.” You smirked, causing him to turn bright red from embarrassment. “Keys?” You smiled, as you opened your hand. He reached onto his collar, removed one single key, and handed it to you. “See, wasn’t so hard, now was it?” You grinned.

You could tell Officer Wilson was beyond pissed that he got screwed by someone as young as you, a female to make it worse but that didn’t matter to you. You got what you wanted.

….

“Hello, baby.” You said the second he had closed the door behind you.

“(Y/N).” He chuckled softly. You were still standing next to the door, but you could see the tears building up in his eyes.

Your heart arched at the way he was looking at you, with teary eyes, tousled hair, and a bruised-up face. You were there when Officer Thomas buried his fist in your fiancé’s face, everyone was able to hear your screams and pleads for him to stop. Deputy Plumb had to physically hold you back and stop you from going full-blown crazy on her colleague, which resulted in you throwing violent threats at the whole police force that was there at that moment. Plumb even wanted to lock you into a cell until you calmed down but Shoupe warned her of the aftermath that would have been your father if she had taken action on her plan.

You took the seat in front of him and immediately held out your hands, for him to hold them. His hands were cuffed together with a light violet and blue line around his wrists, where the metal clung to his skin. You immediately went for the key in your fist and tried to open it.

“How did you convince them to let you in? Alone to give you the key?” He asked surprised but deep down he knew he shouldn’t be. He knew how convincing and resourceful you were, it was one of the many things he loved about you.

“You know I have my ways.” You smirked at the satisfying click of the cuffs. The second his hands were free, you took them into yours and softly caressed his bruised skin. They had them way too tight and you were pretty sure they knew that.

“You do.” He chuckled. “I miss you.”

“I’m here now.” You whispered softly, trying to suppress the tear that was building up in your eye.

You wanted to say that you wouldn’t leave him again but you both knew that would’ve been a lie. The way he held on to your hands was enough for you to jump up, walk around the table, and climb onto his lap, where you gently pressed his head onto your chest.

“What are you doing?” He whispered, “You’re gonna get yourself in trouble.”

“I won’t, I promise.” You smiled, “I made sure of that. Now come here.”

He leaned his head back onto your chest and buried his face into your dress. It didn’t take long until you felt his tears through the thin fabric of your dress, followed by quiet sobs leaving his mouth. It was only with you, that he would ever let himself go like that but he hated it, he hated every single second of it. He knew how much it broke you to be apart from him and he hated to be the cause of your suffering. He never wanted it to go this way, he never wanted anyone to get hurt but most of all, he never wanted for you to get hurt.

After a few minutes, he quickly got himself back together and looked into your eyes. They were soft and kind but had an evil spark in them, which was the perfect reflection of your personality. He saw how much you tried to stay strong for him, he saw how much you fought back your tears and he couldn’t have that. He needed to be the strong one, the one who protected you and was there when you needed him, not the other way around. But at this moment, he couldn’t and you knew that. His tears had dried by now, just as quickly as you were used to it with Rafe.

You leaned in for a kiss, which started out soft and gentle but the more you both realized how you had missed each other's lips, the more passionate and hungry it became. Your hand was resting on his chest, as his hands were wandering down your back to your ass until they slipped under your dress. You moaned at the feeling of his fingers digging into your skin, a feeling that you had missed so much. You felt his hardened bulge between your legs, begging for your touch. You let your hand slide into his pants, the thin material being easy to be pushed aside, and started caressing him. He moaned out quietly at the feeling of your fingers dancing around his tip, trying to not get the attention of the officers. Normally he wouldn't give a single fuck about anyone hearing the two of you, but in a setting like this, he would rather die than have you pulled away from him.

He pushed away the material of your barely existing thong, and slid inside two of his fingers, causing you to let out a loud moan. His other hand quickly flew towards your mouth, making you unable to make another sound.

“Quiet princess, you don’t want them to hear us, right?” He breathed into your ear.

You gave him a quick nod, a silent promise for you to try and stay quiet. He started moving his fingers again as you slid your hand up and down his shaft, first slowly but then faster and faster, until it became hard for him to stay quiet. He let out another moan and this time it was you, who put her hand on his lips.

“Seriously?” You whispered, one eyebrow raised.

He then pulled out his fingers and licked them clean, leaving a satisfied grin on his face. “You have no idea how much I missed your taste on my lips, baby.”

You smirked, before hopping onto the table behind you. The metal was cold on your bare skin, sending goosebumps all over your skin. “I would love to feel your tongue on me baby but…” You started, “But I need to feel you inside of me because…” You stopped, looking up into your fiancé's eyes.

“But you don’t know when we will be able to do this again.” He finished, a tone of sadness washing over his voice. “I don’t want to think about that right now, princess.” He smiled, before reaching into his pants and pulling out his dick. “I love you.” He whispered against her lips, before aligning himself with your entrance.

“Rafe?”

“Yeah?”

“I need you to promise me something.”

“Everything you want, baby.”

“I want you to know that I will do everything in my power to get you out of this. That I will never give up on you. I want you to know that we will be able to do this again, but right now, I really need you fuck me like we won’t.” You paused, “I need you to fuck me like it’s gonna be the last thing you will ever do. Can you do that for me?”

“Trust me, princess, once I’m done with you, you will barely be able to walk out of here, leaving my DNA all over the floor of this building.”

Before you could even respond, he had his hand on your neck and pushed himself into you. You wanted to moan out at the feeling but his grip around your throat tightened so much, it was hard for you to get any sounds out. He started off slow and gentle but quickly became faster, as he thrusted into you. He clashed his lips onto yours, as your fingers dug into his shoulders. you didn’t realize it, but your hands moved up to his neck where your nails dug deep into his skin. He felt so good inside of you and since you weren’t allowed to make any noise, your energy just had to go somewhere.

“Just… just like that baby.” You whispered, trying so hard to keep your voice down.

He smirked and thrust into you even harder. With every thrust, he hit that sweet spot of you and you could already sense that familiar feeling in your stomach building up. He could feel your walls tighten around his cock, so he pulled out, causing you to protest.

“Why…” You pouted, disappointment written all over your face.

“Turn around.” He demanded, without giving you any reasoning.

You did as told, jumped from the table, and turned around. With a swift motion, Rafe had buried himself in your walls once again, without any warning. Your nails dug into the cold metal of the table, and you were sure if you applied just a little bit more pressure, they’d break.

Your face was directed towards the door and windows now, making everyone who chose to look inside able to look directly into your face. The danger of being walked in by an entire police force, combined with the deep and ruthless thrusts of Rafe’s hips, was enough to almost send you over the edge. Your gaze was fixated on the window, where you could see the back of Officer Wilson’s head, who was standing guard just like you told him to.

“Harder please!” You moaned out louder than intended.

Your lack of quietness seemed to have caught the attention of the guard, who had now turned around and granted himself a peak through the glass. His eyes met yours and you couldn’t help but smirk, as you let your head fall back into Rafe’s neck. He also seemed to have noticed what was going on and he would’ve lied if he said it didn’t turn him on even more. The grin on his face was enough for the now embarrassed Officer to turn around again, desperately trying to hide the blush on his face.

“I thought, I told you to stay quiet…fucking brat…” He growled, as he took a chunk of your hair and pulled your head back, so he could reach your ear more easily. “You’re gonna be the death of both of us I swear.”

You were sure he saw how you were smirking at the officer from the reflection of the windows, but that only made it more fun. You loved doing shit like this and he knew that. But you also knew how good he was at punishing you and most definitely could not risk him leaving you dry, not tonight.

“Mh sorry.” You cried out.

“What was that?”

“Sorry, daddy.” You repeated, “Gonna be good now, promise.”.

“That’s what I thought.” He smirked, before ripping off your thong. “Just to be sure.” He added as he stuffed the piece of fabric into your mouth.

You could taste yourself on your thong and if you were being honest, you really were fucking delicious. His thrusts became harder and harder now, hitting your G-spot every time he pounded into you. But it wouldn’t be Rafe Cameron if he wouldn’t add at least one finger to the party, in order to send you completely over the edge. He placed his index finger on your clit and started massaging it, while his other hand started to taunt your ass relentlessly.

“Being such a good girl for daddy, doing such a good job.” He cooed into your ear, but you were barely able to hear his words, as your mind had drifted far, far away. “Taking me so perfectly.” He added as he thrust himself even deeper into you, with more force and less mercy.

He knew it was loud but he had long stopped caring. All his sorrows had left his body, the second he could feel your walls around him. His soul might have been broken, as he got ripped off every ounce of control he had over himself and his surroundings, but when he was inside of you, it was like you handed it all right back to him. At this moment, his hand now back on your hip and his other on your clit, he had all the control over not just your body, but also over his own, as he thrust into you deeper and deeper. The sound of his skin slapping against yours filled the room and there was no doubt that Officer Wilson heard it too.

The harder and faster he went, the harder he felt not just your walls tighten around him, but also his dick twitching beneath them. He knew the both of you were close so he sped up his pace once again, ramming himself into you with every ounce of strength he had left inside him. Your vision turned blurry as you felt tears stream down your face and your release rushing over your body like a bomb exploding inside of you. Rafe came close behind, shooting his load deep inside of you.

He stayed like that for a second, his arm wrapped around you, as he rested his head on the back of your shoulder. As the two of you tried to catch your breath, reality swamped over your mind like a hurricane. You pulled your thong out of your mouth and wiped away the black tears that had stained the table beneath you. You then set yourself up and turned around, where you found Rafe fixing up his pants. The moment his eyes met yours, you saw the pain that he had been surprising for the last seven minutes and it tore your heart apart once again.

He softly wiped away the tears that had stained your beautiful face, but he wasn’t able to get it all. He knew the tears weren’t coming from a sad place originally, but he also knew that these very much could’ve been the tears you had been suppressing since the moment you stepped foot into the room.

“Hey.” He said softly, as he wrapped his hands around your face, forcing you to look at him. “I love you.”

“I love you.” You smiled, as you took his hand in yours. “Don’t worry baby, I’m gonna get you out of here. I promise.” You added before getting interrupted by a loud knock on the door.

You rolled your eyes at the sign, making the boy in front of you laugh. “It’s okay.” He whispered, “Don’t worry about me. I’m gonna be fine.” He paused, “All I need is for you to be happy.”

“Baby hell is gonna freeze over before I’m letting you rot in this cell. Besides, how dare you, believe that I could ever be happy without you by my side.”

He smiled softly, before placing a soft kiss on your lips. He then took the handcuffs from the table and handed them over to you. “Rather have you do it than any of those assholes.”

“Kinky.” You chuckled, before placing them around his wrist. You made sure to make them loose enough, so he would still be able to move them around, without his wrists bruising up. “Here, keep this, you’re gonna need it.” You said as you got the ripped piece of fabric, that used to be your underwear and stuffed it into his pants, careful so it wouldn't be visible.” Rafe grinned at that gesture of you, knowing this, and the memory of you and the past few minutes would be the one thing keeping him sane for what was about to come.

“Till death do us part?”

“Till death do us part.”

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mediumgayitalian · 3 months

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“Hide me hide me hide me hide me hide me.”

Nico blinks, watching blankly as Will ducks under his arm, situating himself behind the door and peeking around it. When Nico doesn’t move, he cranes his neck to look at him, face urgent, and says, “Close it, dude, hurry up!

“Solace!”

“Fuck,” Will curses.

Nico blinks again. He squints across the common, trying to suss out what Will’s staring at. It doesn’t take long. She’s hard to miss, especially in full armour.

“Are you…hiding from Clarisse?”

“Am I hiding from —” He scoffs. “No, I’m just behind this door for fun. Fucking obviously I’m hiding from Clarisse, Nico, now get with the program and close the damn —”

“Solace!”

Both of them jump. When Nico looks, Clarisse is already way closer than she should be. Before he can process enough to slam the door, and heedless of Will’s increasingly-harried oh my gods oh my gods oh my gods fuck fuck fuck fuck, Clarisse is closer, and closer, and then suddenly she’s barging inside, pushing Nico aside like it’s not his damn cabin.

Will groans. “Aw, come on, Clarisse!”

She doesn’t bother to humour him with words, choosing instead to grab him by the collar and drag him bodily out. Will does not make it easy, going completely limp and getting his clothes grass-stained beyond belief, because Clarisse tugs him along like a sled behind her, bouncing over every stone. Nico follows, on the grounds that it’s not being nosy if Will dragged him into it technically.

“You have siblings! You have a boyfriend!”

“And yet I’m choosing you,” Clarisse says easily. “I’ve already told Chiron. It’s a done deal, weatherboy. You’re chariot racing with me.”

Will groans, trying in vain to squirm out of Clarisse’s grip. “There is no reason for me to be your partner in the stupid chariot race, I am a healer, I am at camp to heal —”

She shakes him a little to shut him up. “All the more reason. You focus too much on one thing, brat. All you do is heal and study like a big nerd. You need to get out of your comfort zone.”

“Um, no way. I’m very comfortable in it. That’s why it’s called a comfort zone.”

“You could use some training,” Nico pipes up, and the betrayed look Will gives him would be more effective at making him feel bad if it wasn’t so funny. “Last time I tried to teach you how to use a sword you almost sliced off your own face, so.”

Clarisse looks at him with appraisal. “Maybe you do have some sense in you, di Angelo.”

Nico chooses to take that as the compliment it is.

“Ugh,” Will says dramatically, and finally manages to wrench out of Clarisse’s grip in order to embed the appropriate level of drama in his face-down flop to the floor.

Clarisse kicks him. “You’re pathetic.”

“Ugh.”

Notably, he stops protesting. She kicks him again, affectionately this time, and stomps away.

———

“If I work myself into another coma, I don’t have to chariot race,” Will says gleefully, shoving the bottles of nectar Nico hands him onto a shelf. He’s been buzzing around the infirmary all day, healing things he is meant to be healing with a band-aid and a stop being a clumsy dumbass, dumbass with hymns and salves. “I’m gonna try to cure cancer again.”

Kayla, walking by, reaches out and smacks him. “Try it and I’m crack your country CDs in half.”

Will turns to her, opening his mouth —

“Every single one of them,” she stresses, green eyes narrowed.

— and closes it again, huffing.

“I’ll find a way,” he says glumly.

Nico pats him delicately on the back. “There, there.” A pause. “I mean, personally, I can’t wait to watch you fall out of a chariot.”

The look Will shoots him is nothing short of wounded. “You think I’m so uncoordinated I’m gonna fall out of the chariot?”

“Gracefully!” assures Austin from across the infirmary, smiling supportively. He grins brightly when they turn to look, nose scrunching with the force of his smile. “I’m sure!”

Will’s scowl twitches in the face of his brother’s blind enthusiasm. (It is impossible not to be endeared by Austin. He is genuinely the sweetest kid in the entire universe. Nico even gets, to his horror, the occasional urge to squish him. Gently.) He sighs.

“Thanks, Austin.”

“Of course! Love you Will!”

The twitching scowl melts into a full smile. “Love you too, kiddo.”

———

Watching chariot race practices, very quickly, becomes Nico’s favourite pastime.

He sees, now, why Achilles would bring them up, unprompted, wistful look in his eye, every time Nico visited. There’s a beauty in the rawness of it; the whipping winds, wild horses. Squealing wheels and bending axels, open-backed and inches from death at all time. Dangerous, exhilarating. Humanity, at it’s most thrilling and old — some of the first tools, the first domestic animals, the first machines, all at once. It’s pure, raw excitement.

Also, Will falls out of the chariot, like, eight whole times. And there’s nothing funnier than watching him lose his shit at a splintered pile of wood that was once a carriage, helmet thrown to the ground in a fit of rage, accent so thick he’s literally incomprehensible. Nico never gets to see him like this. His stomach actually hurts from laughter on several occasions.

Slowly, though, he starts to get the hang of it. He’s smart — incredibly so — and when he stops spending half his time complaining, and the other half pouting, he actually gets pretty decent. He’s fast, after all, and quick to observe, to respond; the other teams struggle to land hits on him, in practice runs, and sabotage is difficult when your opponent seems to have an almost prophetic gift to see things coming.

He can’t, however, steel himself to hit back.

And therein lies the trouble.

“For fuck’s sake, Will, I’m not asking you to kill anybody,” Clarrise snaps. “You need to get your head in the game!”

Will’s shoulders curl defensively. “I know! I’m trying! It’s just —” He kicks at their broken wheel, in two clean pieces on the ground. “Do no harm.”

“Do some harm. Or I’m gonna kick your ass.”

Will brightens. “And then ask somebody else to be your partner?”

“No, and then make you my partner forever.”

“Oh.”

Will’s sullen face is hard to look at. He’s got those big, puppy dog eyes, round and sad and pouty. Not even Clarisse is immune. (And certainly not Nico, who finds himself halfway off the spectator’s stands and jogging to the tracks before he wonders what exactly, the fresh fuck, he is doing, and sprints right back.)

“Shit, Solace, don’t look like I killed your goddamn mother.” She cuffs him on the shoulder, sending him sprawling with a muffled oof. “We’ll figure it out. Let’s go again.”

Accepting the spare chariot someone wheels towards her, she pulls herself up, making space for Will to do the same. He doesn’t get on immediately, still looking miserable, but concedes eventually.

His forearms look kind of nice when he grips onto the rails for dear life, Nico notices. From a totally objective perspective.

The four practicing teams guide their horses to the starting line, running a few last minute checks. To avoid spilling any secrets or strategies, everyone uses the same practice-issue wooden chariot and wears the same armour, but it’s still obvious who’s who.

The Hephaestus team’s chariot, despite being standard issue, gleams like it’s brand-new. The wood is polished and looks to be altered, barely; a carved groove here, a sharper wing there. Nothing that could really be considered an upgrade, but definitely making the whole thing look smoother. The spears they hold promise a plethora of untold ability hidden within.

The Hermes chariot looks deceptively beat up. There’s a chunk missing from the top of the left side, and one of the wheels appears to be just slightly out of alignment. Upon careful inspection, though, Nico can see clear, hollow tubing attached along the rails and open to the back — definitely a quick rig of some sort. Base (not acid, Cecil had happily lectured him on the benefits of using a base rather than an acid when dissolving anything from steel to human flesh), if Nico has to guess, or maybe Greek fire.

The Aphrodite-Iris chariot doesn’t have to do much to look great. The whole thing seems to coast gracefully to the beginner line, and neither charioteer looks particularly bothered or preoccupied with the competition — if Nico recalls correctly, and he does, their goal is to win through “gay audacity”, which Nico does not understand but supports wholeheartedly.

Will and Clarisse’s chariot, by comparison, is pretty run-of-the-mill. They haven’t done much training with the Ares horses or the Apollo flying chariot, because Clarisse is primarily concerned with training Will — she knows the equipment is fine.

Lacy, standing at the edge of the track, puts a sparkly pink whistle to her lips and blows loudly. It’s not nearly as loud as one of Will’s sonic whistles, but it does the trick, and the teams are off in a blur of movement; Will and Clarisse in the lead, Hephaestus behind them, Aphrodite-Iris in third, and Hermes lagging slightly behind.

As they turn their first corner, positions largely unchanging, Nico hears footsteps from his left — Lou Ellen smiles at him as she climbs the stand, settling into the space he makes next to him.

“What’d I miss?” she asks, brushing dust off her hands.

He shrugs. “Not much. They were in the lead the last practice round, too, but on the last lap Hermes caught up.” He gestures to the heap that was once their practice chariot. “Julia had her sword at their wheels. They were on the inner ring, nowhere to move; the only way to get rid of them would have been to knock her arm, probably dislocate her shoulder. Will couldn’t do it.”

Lou Ellen winces. “Ah.”

There’s a ripping sound, followed by cackling — the Hermes chariot has finally made use of their hasty rigging, setting off an explosion behind them that rockets them forward. It has the added bonus of shaking the ground, slightly, unsettling the other drivers for just barely long enough for them to pull into third place. Far ahead, still in first, Nico can see Clarisse yelling instructions at Will, although he can’t hear what they are. His grip on the rail has tightened.

“Why,” starts Nico carefully, and based on Lou Ellen’s pinched face she knows exactly where he’s going, “does she make him — well, you know.”

Lou Ellen is silent for a good long while, watching the practice chariot race with eyes that aren’t paying attention. Hermes is gaining, but Hephaestus is gaining faster.

“Clarisse has always liked Will,” she says eventually. She meets Nico’s incredulous expression, snorting. “Well, as much as Clarisse can like people. I got here way after he did, so I don’t have any more details there than you do, but he’s never been afraid of her, and she likes that. He’s never been mean to her, either. I mean, I know she can be a bully, but people aren’t exactly light on her, to be fair.”

The Aphrodite-Iris chariot turns out to have some tricks up its sleeve — it starts to glow; barely at first, but quickly blinding. At its crux, everyone has to look away, allowing them to pull into first.

Well, except that Will doesn’t seem nearly as staggered as everyone else. In fact, he doesn’t look bothered at all — for the first time that Nico has seen, there’s something like competition pulling a crooked smile on his face. He stares straight at the still-too-bright chariot, reigns wrapped around his arms as he yanks them forward.

“Is that why she drags him away sometimes?” Nico asks. “To train?”

“Something like that. Most of his training was with —” she falters. “Well, you know who. Medicine and some archery.”

They’re both quiet for a while. Neither of them ever knew Lee or Michael well, if at all, but over time Nico has found himself almost clamming up at the mere thought of them, the way one might tiptoe around an authority figure when they have something to hide. Forbidden subjects, where before Nico simply didn’t think of them often.

“You can’t just not train, though,” Lou Ellen murmurs, eyes trained on the chariots. Hephaestus throws one of their spears, lodging it in the spokes of the Aphrodite-Iris chariot. They come to a very abrupt and very screechy halt, knocking them out of the race in any real capacity. “Not at Camp Half-Blood. She taught him hand-to-hand because she was the only one strong enough to physically drag him to the arena. Everyone else gave up after the first few tantrums — I think she was kind of amused by the challenge. Or something.”

“Or something,” Nico agrees. Privately, he thinks that there is something about Will Solace that makes you want to protect him. Not frailty — he is not by any means incapable — but something about his smile, his genuineness. The stubborn belief that people are good and kind and worthy of everything he has to give. A naivety, except someone who’s been through what he has (what they all have) cannot be naive — his hope in the world is hard-earned and well-won. It makes people want to protect his hold on it, by any means necessary.

Even, Nico reasons, ornery old fuckers like Clarisse LaRue.

The three remaining chariots start the last leg of the race — Apollo-Ares, barely squeezing out in front; then Hephaestus, quickly gaining; and finally Hermes, lagging slightly but not to be discarded. As they round the bend, Nico watches as Clarisse cuffs Will briefly on the arm, clearly proud. This is the farthest they’ve made in first so far, after two weeks of training. Will, reigns safely transferred back to Clarisse, beams at her — bright enough that Nico can see it from dozens of yards away.

With sudden, calculated speed, the Hephaestus chariot surges forward.

As if coordinated, Nico and Lou Ellen inhale sharply, leaning forward. He sees the scattered few other campers so the same in his peripherals, watching with single minded focus as the chariot levels exactly with Will and Clarisse. Nico eyes the spear nervously — of all weapons, they’re the easiest for Will to dodge, to fight off. More impersonal.

But the sons of the smartest god around would know that.

For at least a hundred feet, nothing happens. Ares-Apollo and Hephaestus stay neck in neck, every urge forward matched, every pesky road-blocking stone avoided. The finish line is dangerously close, but no one pulls ahead, nothing changes. Four shoulders remain tense, four helmets stare resolutely forward.

Then, in a quick movement, the taller Hephaestus charioteer hands the spear off to the shorter, swiftly taking the reigns, and the shorter lunges — aiming right for Will’s shoulder. Will’s quick, though, and has his own spear poised to parry in an instant. There’s a barely perceptible nudge from Clarisse, and then Will’s eyes harden, and he lifts his spear to jab right back, needle-thin tip gleaming in the late afternoon sun, right for the chink in the charioteer’s armour and then —

The charioteer rips their helmet off, dropping it at their feet.

It’s Harley.

Hephaestus’ darling; hell, the camp’s darling. One of their youngest and brightest, with big, mischievous brown eyes, contagious smiles, endless enthusiasm. Cute, clumsy Harley, the only one of Hephaestus’ children Will doesn’t have to nag to get treated, who walks dutifully over the infirmary every time he gets so much as a second-degree burn and treats each one of Will’s overcautious instructions with utmost seriousness. Who Will sends away each time with an affectionate kiss on the forehead and a prized purple sucker — who Will, frankly, favours. Who Will would never, in a million years, even consider hurting.

A dirty trick by the Hephaestus cabin.

But an effective one.

Immediately, Will flinches back, spear dropping from his hand and splintering under thundering hooves and spinning wheels. Without a second of hesitation, Harley launches his spear in the same move as before — sticking it in the wheel’s spokes, inertia sending the charioteer’s sprawling, knocking them out of the race.

Except, maybe it’s different when the chariots are so close. Or maybe the chariot was faulty to begin with. Because as soon as the spear gets wedged, the fragile floor of the chariot seems to implode — sending Will and Clarisse under the still-moving machine, instead of flying over. The horses, disoriented from the sudden change, rip free of their harness, adding more force to the already precarious tumble.

There’s a sharp, sickening crack, so loud Nico can hear it as if it’s next to him. In the brief nanosecond immediately afterwords, he closes his eyes, sending a prayer to his father: please be the axle. Please be the axle. Please be the axle.

As the Hephaestus and Hermes chariots rocket past the finish line, Clarisse lets out a shrill, blood-curdling scream.

———

Nico’s off the bench and halfway towards the crashed chariot before he can blink. He’s not the only one — he processes, barely, everyone else’s quick convergence, including the remaining charioteers — but he’s there first, diving into the wreckage seconds before anyone else is close enough.

There’s not a lot of actual debris, chariots being as small as they are, but the dust cloud from the track is so huge and the pieces of wood are so splintered that it feels like there is. As the dust settles, and he kicks some debris out of the way, he starts to see the shape of Will, kneeling, in front of a prone Clarisse and an ever-growing pool of blood.

There’s a bone sticking straight out of her thigh.

As the rest of the campers converge upon them, Will looks up and meets Nico’s eyes. His own blue eyes are dark, steely — determined, but afraid.

“I don’t have time,” is the only thing out of his mouth before he braces both hands on Clarisse’s leg, immediately starting to sing urgent hymns.

Nico understands.

“Lou, Julia, Chiara,” he barks, taking charge in absence of Will’s voice. The three girls snap forward to him immediately. “Sprint the the infirmary and tell them what happened. Austin’s on duty — make sure he doesn’t come with you, we need him to prep a surgical suite. Send everyone else and send them fast. Bring a stretcher.”

He turns to the Hephaestus kids. “Jake, Harley, start clearing the debris to make space. Damien, join them; move the big stuff first, small stuff is secondary. We need a space for Will to work and a space to lay the stretcher. Jen, Butch, Lacy —”

He barks off a list of orders, doing his best to channel the commands he’s watched Will give dozens and dozens of times. In minutes, he has the track cleared, Will’s medical bag dragged over from the stands, and everyone who is not helping stabilize out to the infirmary to help as needed.

As soon as there’s an opening, he rushes over to Will and Clarisse, kneeling by her head.

“Help is coming,” he promises, watching the glow dim and flicker in time with the rhythm of Will’s chanting. The bleeding has slowed, marginally, but he can tell from the volume of blood alone that this was an arterial hit. It’s going to take more than Will’s raw healing power, although there is a lot of it, to keep Clarisse alive and keep her leg functioning in recovery. He needs tools, he needs nectar and ambrosia; he needs the surgery suite. He needs time.

“Is it helpful for me to knock her out?”

Clarisse, of course, is still conscious. Barely — and in so much pain Nico will be surprised if she’s processing anything at all — but enough that every few seconds she lets out an agonised shout of pain, writhing and flinching so hard Will has to focus on steadying her as much as healing her.

Without breaking his song, eyes still trained on the injury, Will nods. Nico breathes, squaring his shoulders, then shuffled forward to rest Clarisse’s head gently in his lap, fingers pressed to her temples. He presses, hard enough to feel the beat of her heart — weak — through his fingertips, and squeezes his eyes shut.

He’s no son of Hypnos, but dreams are the Underworld’s domain. Are his domain, as heir and prince of the Underworld, in every way that matters, that can be counted.

He lets himself sink into careful limbo; body in physical space, mind and soul elsewhere. Not too much — he’s no use if he falls unconscious — but enough to slip into Clarisse’s mindscape, step into her subconscious.

The whole place bleeds white, hot anguish.

Nico stumbles when he first walks in, nauseous despite being nothing but his own mind. It’s been a while since he’s experienced this kind of pain, his own or not, and he has to consciously beat back memories of brimstone and rot; liquid fire, endless red, red, red.

“Clarisse?” he calls, softly as he dares.

She doesn’t respond. He’s not sure she knows how to respond, even if she could. Cautious of the memory and emotion swirling around him, he steps forward. If he focuses, her anguish is pointed — is central. She will be at the centre of it.

He has volunteered, but he’s not sure he wants to follow.

Steeling himself, he shoulders through swirling masses of pain, of hurt, of fear. It’s blisteringly hot, and feels not unlike the sandstorm he was once stranded within, in the middle of the New Mexico desert four years ago. His face prickles; he’s blinded.

He trudges forward.

“Clarisse? Clarisse! Can you hear me? It’s Nico!”

Desperately and uselessly, he wishes he had more practice. Will has offered, the few times he’s needed to anaesthetize someone, but for the most time Nico has foolishly declined. Why on Earth he would pass up a much easier mindscape to navigate through in preparation for something like this is a mystery to him. Fuck.

“Clarisse! Try to — focus on me, can you hear me?”

He forces himself forward, a few more — well, there’s no distance in a mindscape, nothing measurable, anyway. He forces himself to look up, braving the assault to his face, and try to scan his surroundings. The swirling mass is more centralized, now, almost hurricane-like and conal. He’s closer than he was before, but if he can only find…

He looks up, and almost cries in relief: weak against the roaring storm, but still present, is a flickering, golden light. A very familiar light. Nico squeezes his eyes shut, thrusting out his own energy in an uncoordinated mass — boy, is that going to be uncomfortable to extract later — and flails wildly until he finally feels the warmth of Will’s energy entangling with his own, grounding him. He opens his eyes, and suddenly everything is clearer.

Clarisse kneels in the centre of her mindscape, hands pressed tightly to her ears, eyes screwed shut, mouth open in a silent scream.

“Hey,” Nico murmurs, kneeling in front of her. It takes a few seconds, and a few moments of gentle coaxing, before she looks up.

“It hurts,” she croaks.

She’s more vulnerable than he’s ever seen her — eyes brown and big and wet, pained, face twisted and chin trembling and achingly, unbelievably young. She is nineteen years old, but in that moment she appears almost childlike. The years of warrior’s hardness has abandoned her; she is armourless.

Nico swallows the lump in his throat. “I know.”

“Help me. Please.”

“Come here, Clarisse.” He reaches out and wraps a gentle hand around hers, tugging her close. The knee jerk discomfort at close contact is barely a flicker — he is so entwined in her right now that her fear has started to bleed into his; her rawness. He needs this comfort almost as much as she does. Right now she is a person, in agony, and so is he, and it is unbearable.

He holds her until the pain slowly stops.

———

Will is in the surgical suite for seven straight hours.

“Bed,” Nico says softly, rising up to meet him as he exits. It says something about how exhausted he is that he doesn’t even protest, letting Nico place a hand on the small of his back and guide him past the on-call room, past the patient cots, past the Big House living room couches, past Cabin 7. He leads him across the common and right into Cabin 13, with its double beds and blackout curtains, with its insulated, soundproof walls. With Nico.

He helps him out of his bloodstained scrubs, peeling them off his skin and tossing them directly into a trash can. He’d guide him to the shower, usually, but there’s a — glassiness, to his eyes, that there usually isn’t after surgery. Nico chooses instead to skip it, guiding him into the sweatpants he left behind the last time he was here and an oversized The Doors t-shirt of Nico’s, and then to the spare bed he always uses, across from Nico’s. He peels the covers back for him like he’s a child, tucking him in, brushing the hair out of his eyes. He’s asleep in minutes, curled tightly around a pillow, furrowed crease not leaving the space between his eyebrows, even in sleep. Nico smooths it away with his thumb.

“Goodnight, Will,” he murmurs, brushing the backs of his knuckles across his forehead.

He watches him sleep far past what is normal, and then slips back out of the cabin.

———

“On the bright side,” Will says, squeezing the hand that has left to leave Clarisse’s arm, “you’re free from your chariot race obligation! As am I!”

Predictably, she only glowers.

“Not a chance, Solace,” she rasps.

Will helpfully gets her a glass of water, fussing over her blankets while she drinks until she bats him away. Chris watches the whole thing with great amusement, shoulders brushing Nico’s.

“He’s a mother hen, isn’t he,” he comments, tilting his head in Will’s direction, who narrowly avoids having his fingers bitten off trying to feed her a square of ambrosia.

Nico snorts. “Yeah.” He watches the fussing for a few more seconds, making note of Will’s shaking hands, his shakier smile. “He’s guilty.”

“He didn’t do anything. She doesn’t blame him.”

Nico meets his dark look, mouth twisted in understanding. They both know this logic is futile.

“Yeah, well, someone tell him that.”

“Will — stop it.” In a startlingly quick move for someone on as much morphine as she is, Clarisse darts out and clutches Will’s fluttering hands. He hesitates, wondering if it’s worth it to pull out of her hold and possibly jostle her leg. “I’m fine. And you’re still charioting.”

“You’re not fine,” Will frowns, conveniently ignoring the part of the sentence he doesn’t want to deal with. “Your femur snapped in half and tore through your femoral artery on its way out of your leg. You’re going to be on bedrest for a week at least, and it’ll be tender for a good long while besides. That’s what we in the medical business call a Big Fucking Deal.”

She tightens her hold, staring at him until he finally meets her eyes.

“Will.” She narrows her eyes. “You are still participating in the chariot race. I’m not asking.”

“It’ll have to wait until you’re better,” he says lightly. “Besides, we’re focusing on you right now.”

Nico can see in her face when she decides to switch strategies.

“Okay,” she says, stubborn glean in her eye, “then I’m asking you, as a personal request, to stay in the race. Or else I’ll drag myself onto a goddamn horse myself, killing myself in the process, and that will be on your head.”

The tactic works.

Will scowls. “You can’t tell me what to do.”

Clarisse doesn’t bother repeating herself, letting go of his wrists and readjusting her blankets.

“I am done talking now. I believe it’s time for morphine-induced unconsciousness. Please remember that I took down a drakon with my own bare hands; it is well within my abilities to drag myself out of heroin-haze and onto a chariot with no legs, let alone one. Good talk.”

As soon as the words are out of her mouth, she leans back on her pillows and passes out. Genuinely, actually passes out — not closes her eyes, not behind to fall asleep; she is unconscious. Snores ring through the air.

“Well,” Chris says carefully, unfolding his arms. “It might be time to let Clarisse rest for a while.”

Will, healer that he is, cannot exactly argue with that. Will, drama queen that he is, decides to make his fury known by stomping out of the room, a feat in flip-flips possible by him alone.

“She is so infuriating!” he shouts the second they’re in the main room, startling several people. He either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. “I put effort in! I failed! She can’t even — it’s not even about spending time together, obviously, since I still have to do it! What does she want from me?!”

Chris, like Nico, has wisely decided to let the hypothetical questions remain hypothetical and stay silent, lest his fury be turned onto them. Ten minutes into Will’s rant, Chris excuses himself to go sit by Clarisse. Nico waves him off.

“Will,” Nico suggests the next time he takes a breath, “let’s maybe go for a walk.” He glances at the group of wide-eyed patients. “I think you’re scaring people.”

Deflating, Will nods, following Nico out the door. “Yeah. Yeah, let’s go for a walk.”

The fresh air probably doesn’t fix things, per se, but as they lap around the cabins, Will seems to droop further and further, curling in on himself. The anger recedes from his features.

“I feel really shitty,” he admits softly. “Just, like, generally.”

Nico softens like a goddamn slab of ice cream on hot pavement. For the second time in three days, he opens his arms in offering, although this time it’s significantly less difficult.

“Come here.”

Without even a beat of hesitation, Will collapses into him, arms around his waist, head tucked under his chin. Nico fights the urge to wince — Will, usually, takes quite a bit of pride in his height. He likes to be the one to wrap around people, not the other way around. Nico has been indoctrinated into Will-affection, in the time since the Giant War, and if Will is the one curling into him, seeking comfort, than he is struggling.

Nico hates it when Will struggles. He always feels out of his depth.

“There, there,” he hedges, feeling a good bit like an NPC. “It’ll be okay.”

Will makes a small, wounded noise. “You don’t know that.”

“Um, yes I do, I know everything forever. I’ve never been wrong even one time in my life.”

His awkward attempt at lightening the mood is rewarded by Will’s laugh. It’s slight, and nowhere near the brightness it usually is, but it’s there and it’s genuine and that’s all Nico wanted, really.

“You good?” Nico asks softly, squeezing his arms.

Will nods. “Yes.” He hesitates. “Can I stay here a little longer?”

Nico wraps his arms impossibly tighter, aching at the quiet vulnerability in his voice.

“As long as you need.”

———

The last practice before the chariot race is nowhere near as fun to watch as the others. In fact, it’s not fun at all.

Clarisse, casted and upright, appoints her brother Sherman to race in her place, much to both his and Will’s very vocal complaints. Will’s, because he still doesn’t want to race at all and especially not now that Clarisse is out of the running, and Sherman’s because, well, when isn’t Sherman complaining about having to breathe the same air as someone or whatever.

Clarisse silences both of them with a glare. “Do it,” she orders.

They comply, stomping over to their practice chariot.

The practice race is awful. Nico is surprised, frankly, that they managed to finish at all, as badly behind as they managed. He could practically hear their squabbling all the way from the stands. For as much as Will is generally easy to get along with, he’s impossible when he’s stubborn, and worse when he’s petulant. He takes every command from Sherman like it’s a personal offence, and Sherman, being who he is, does too. Every shout to veer right or deflect an attack somehow sounds like a jab at Will’s speed, or a remark about his general intelligence. When they stomp off the track, helmets thrown in a heap with the rickety chariot, Nico is almost relieved.

“We’re going to lose, tomorrow, and I can’t wait,” hisses Will darkly, fists curled at his sides.

Nico watches him warily. “You’re not even going to try?”

“What, so he can remind me that even when I’m trying I’m a useless idiot? Not a chance.”

Nico has to almost jog to keep up with him, striding as powerfully as he is. He’s not even sure where he’s going — he seems to be, mostly, going away from the track and from Sherman, wherever that may be.

“You’re not a useless idiot,” Nico offers, when some of the stormcloud has lessened its hold on Will’s usually sunny face. “Nobody thinks you’re a useless idiot.”

Will closes his eyes, sighing. “I know.”

“And Sherman is just a generally grouchy person.”

“I know.”

“It feels very, very weird to be the optimistic and comforting one, right now.”

Will snorts, finally meeting his eyes. “I know.” He flops onto the ground, cheek resting in his knees, and pats the space next to him. Nico sits much more delicately. “I’m sorry I’ve been such an asshole lately.”

“You’ve been stressed,” Nico points out. “A little assholery is warranted.”

“I’m still sorry.”

Nico knocks their shoulders together. “I forgive you, then.”

Will smiles. “Thank you.”

For a while they sit in comfortable silence, watching the hustle and bustle of camp. Will’s presence is a comforting one, even though Nico can feel the turmoil leeching off of him. Strangely because of that, actually — sometimes Nico feels like he’s the only one who struggles out of the two of them. Will spends so much of his time smiling and joking and lecturing, hands on his hips, that Nico had almost forgotten that he doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing, either. He’s just good at faking it.

“I’ll be watching, tomorrow.” He bites his lip. “And I won’t, like, bring pom-poms, or anything, but I’ll be cheering you on.”

Will grins tiredly. “Silently and in your head?”

“Uh-huh.”

His smile softens considerably, melting into something almost shy, before he turns back to face forward.

“Well, then, damn. I guess I’ll have to try.”

———

On the morning of the chariot race, Will acts like Nico is escorting him to his goddamn execution.

“It is a race that will last a maximum of twenty minutes,” Nico says with no small amount of exasperation, “including prep time.”

Will looks no less grim. “A twenty minutes that will never be returned to me.”

Nico rolls his eyes and decides to stop humouring him.

He drops him off at his chariot with a quick pat on the shoulder, jogging back to the stands. They’re full, today, as expected, with every camper and countless others cramped into the minimal space. Nico looks at the shoulder-to-shoulder crowd, and is about to consider breaking his promise and fleeing back to his cabin before he sees a doodled-on hand stick in the air, waving wildly. He exhales in relief and heads over to sit in the spot Kayla and Austin have cleared between them.

“How miserable is he?” Kayla asks brightly, tapping her purple shoes. “He left before we woke up this morning. Assumedly to sprint around camp a few times like a feral cat.”

“Pretty miserable,” Nico answers. He reaches over to pat Austin’s head when he rests on his shoulder, knowing he’s nervous even if he tries not to show it. “A lot of it is self-induced, though. Like, yeah, Sherman is going to be a dick and it’s going to be stressful, but I feel like, in the grand scheme of things, this is among the least stressful things he’s ever been forced to deal with.”

“There was that one time he had to remove a brain tumour in the middle of the forest,” Austin muses. “I think that was probably pretty stressful for him.”

Nico opens his mouth. He closes it again.

“Demigod life is a nightmare,” he settles on eventually.

“Hear, hear,” both siblings mutter.

They lapse into silence as they turn back to the racetrack, evaluating the turnout.

Competition will be hefty.

Sherman has finally arrived, Ares horses in tow. The garish things look almost wrong next to the brightness off the flying Apollo chariot, but that may just be the tension between the team’s charioteers that’s so potent it seems to warp the air around them. Nico is vaguely surprised that they’re managing to stand so civilly next to each other, even if they could not be more visibly uncomfortable. Will, at least, tries for a smile, which drops immediately when Sherman mutters something too quiet to be picked up this far.

Nico sighs. This is going to be hard to watch.

There are about twenty other chariots lines up. Hermes, Hephaestus, and Aphrodite-Iris, like at practice, but Athena is competing too, as well as Nike, as per usual, and Tyche. In fact Nico, and by extension Hades, is one of the few cabins not participating — everyone else seems primed and ready for a chance of laurels and extra dessert. And, of course, settling personal rivalries via bloodshed, et cetera, et cetera.

The biggest competition, if Nico had to quantify it, will be Hephaestus, tricky as they were during practice; Athena, for obvious reasons; and Will and Sherman themselves will be their own worst enemy. He can’t tell if it would be better for them to fail out early to avoid racketing tension up further, or last close to the end to keep things at a healthy simmer.

In the end, it doesn’t matter. The second warning whistle goes off, and the chariots rush to the starting line — Will and Sherman at third position, Demeter to their left, Dionysus-Hypnos to their right. The stands go silent, the charioteers get in position, and with a sharp, shrill whistle, they’re off.

The first few seconds, as always, are chaotic.

In the ground with the settling dust are three separate chariots, including, surprisingly, Hermes, whose rigging backfired and sent their entire chariot up in smoke. They are luckily unharmed due to their unusually well-prepared fireproof armour, but neither Julia nor Connor seem too pleased about being out so soon.

The rest of the race continues on without them. Athena has a decent stretch of first place, but Nike is following fast. Behind them, barely a hair’s breadth of distance, is Will and Sherman, rocketing forward smoothly. Unlike Clarisse, Sherman does not care for giving Will any learning opportunities — despite the horses being Ares’, Will is on the reigns. Sherman is armed with his sword and his spear, slashing and jabbing at anyone who gets too close. Neither Ares or Apollo is big on tricks, not like some of the craftier cabins, but together they’re fast and strong and make a formidable opponent.

Or, well, they would. If they were working together, rather than two people simply being in the same chariot.

They cross into the second lap, Will guiding them across the innermost ring to move them up past Nike. They’re gaining on Athena, now, but that won’t be an easy task — challenging the camp’s wisest never is.

Kayla hisses through her teeth. “Shit.” She purses her lip at the trailing Nike chariot — they’re gaining, and they’re seething. Damien — at least Nico thinks it’s Damien, it’s hard to tell with the helmets — has an arsenal of throwing knives poised in his left hand, and as his teammate steers them steady, he takes aim. Nico has to resist the urge to shout a warning.

As the short knife sails towards the reigns wrapped around Will’s hands, though, aim ringing true, Will’s spine goes ramrod straight. Almost as if he can feel it. With an eighth of a second to spare, he shifts and jerks his hands out of the way, avoiding the knife and managing, somehow, to stay on track.

With a skill and ferocity that has Nico’s jaw brushing his toes, Will dodges all eight of the knives lobbed in his direction. In one memorable manoeuvre, he rips his left hand from the reigns, holding them in his teeth, and uses it to shove Sherman down behind the wall of the chariot right before a knife would have lodged itself in his uncovered cheek. Out of weapons, he steers their chariot right next to Nike, allowing Sherman to sever their reigns and send them rolling to a sad, victory-less stop.

Without pausing to look behind them, they race on.

Athena’s chariot has a lead, but their chariot is built for stability, not speed. They’ve accounted for every possible sabotage and built accordingly. They have not accounted for, however, stubbornness and sheer force of Will. The Ares-Apollo chariot gains on them, helmets glinting, skeletal horses gaining faster, faster, faster. Both Sherman and Malcom, Nico believes, have their spears drawn, ready, as the space between them gets smaller and smaller, to fight barbarically for first — for honour.

Nico doubts even Rachel, powers of prophecy fully restored, could predict what happens next.

Either too furious to accept a loss or simply deciding to throw the game, one of the Nike charioteers crawls out from their carriage, darting onto the live track. They scan the ground, looking for something. When they stand in the dead centre of the track, body perfectly tense, gripping something glinting in their hand, Nico gets it.

Austin gasps, nails digging into Nico’s arm. “Oh, no.”

Before anyone can say anything, they take aim. They measure once, twice, and then let the knife loose with deadly precision, knife cutting through the air with ease and hurdling with impossible power towards to two finalists chariots.

If the knife hits the Athena chariot, it will slice clean through the axle. Architectural wonder it may be, the chariot cannot withstand Celestial bronze at terminal velocity, and it will give, and the chariot will crumple. In an effort to lesson the chariot’s load, the Athena charioteers have largely forgone armour. Their fall will be painful and disastrous; as deadly as Clarisse’s, if not moreso. A hit to the Ares-Apollo chariot will be similarly as race-ending, but both Will and Sherman are in full armour. It will be bruising, but not deadly. They will lose, but they will survive.

All they need to do to win is shift, just slightly, so that the knife hits the Athena chariot.

Will, like with all the others before it, seems to feel this knife coming. Unlike the others, he glances backwards, looking at the knife, looking back at the Athena chariot. Sherman follows his gaze, and seems to realize what Will has calculated a split second after he does. He shouts something — presumably an order to move, to shift, to sabotage.

Will hesitates.

The knife hits the Ares-Apollo chariot, slicing through the left wheel.

It careens around, unbalanced, dragged into a heap by untethered horses.

The Athena chariot pulls forward to victory, the remaining functioning chariots quickly following.

The Ares-Apollo canon is left broken and humiliated only a few feet from victory, the almost-first-place.

———

As soon as they come off the track, things get messy. Both Will and Sherman are covered in dirt and grime, striped with grease from the broken wheels, bleeding sluggishly from various scraps. Sherman has his non-flailing hand clamped to an oozing wound on the side of his neck, and Will is limping.

“—and I cannot fucking believe you, Solace! All I asked for was effort!”

“Oh, forgive me,” Will says sarcastically, finally close enough to hear. “In the hustle and bustle of being shot at, I made a couple errors.”

“That gonna be your attitude in battle? ‘Oh, sorry, there was a monster chasing me so I lost all focus —’”

“Battles are not usually fought on a chariot going a hundred fucking miles per hour!”

“That’s no excuse! You need to be —”

“What, Sherman, fucking what? What indisputable flaw do I have, oh great one, that needs to be so desperately remedied?”

It’s startling when Will’s composure cracks. When he goes from bitey and sarcastic, eye-rolling from his usual distance, to right in Sherman’s face. It’s eerie to see him at his full height, no slouching, reminding anyone watching that yeah, actually, their laidback medic is six-two, strong, capable, in more ways than what they’re used to.

Sherman, in usual Ares kid fashion, doesn’t even flinch.

“Your reflexes, for starters,” he says coolly. “No matter what you do, Solace, you’re always one second too fucking late.”

A collective gasp ricochets through the gathered campers. The tension rackets up so rapidly that Nico coughs, lungs suddenly constricted. Will rears back so violently Nico is half-convinced Sherman actual punched him.

Sherman, for his part, seems to realise he’s crossed some kind of line. The cold look on his face twists into a scowl, uncomfortable and apologetic at once. “Look, Will, I just mean —”

“You don’t get to say that to me.”

Will’s quiet voice seems to echo through the entirety of the valley, cutting through laboured breathing of charioteers, pegasus neighing, even the crashing of the waves in the distant shore — everything goes silent.

Nico likes to think he knows Will pretty well. He knows what he sounds like when he’s giggly, watching his siblings argue about nothing; when he’s excitable, rambling about his newest obsession; when he can’t choose between amused and stern at whatever dumb thing Nico has gotten himself into. He knows what he sounds like when he’s exhausted, too, overworked and done with everything; when he’s annoyed, when he’s hurt and sad.

But he’s never heard Will sound so dangerous.

“Of all people.” His words are articulated, deliberate. The usual warmth of his eyes is gone. He’s completely still in a way he never is outside of surgery — no shaking in his perpetually trembling hands, no bounce to his curls, none of the constant energy that seems to constantly exude off him. Still, cold. Icy. “You do not get to talk to me about being one second too late.”

Sherman looks stricken. Guilt is written across each of his features, and for a second he steps back — as if afraid.

“Will, I —”

The son of Apollo turns without another word, striding over to the distant tree line and disappearing into the woods. No one chases after him.

No one even moves.

———

Predictably, the silence does not last long.

“You fucking idiot!” Clarisse explodes, the second Will is out of eyesight. She bats Chris’s hand away from her, and he, surprisingly, lets her go easily — his usually understanding face has hardened. She hobbles towards her brother, remarkably quick with her clunky cast, and starts truly tearing into him. “I asked you to do one fucking thing! One!”

Sherman quickly gets defensive under the scrutiny. “Well, you didn’t make it fucking easy! Just because he’s your protege doesn’t mean he’s my fucking problem —”

Nico doesn’t stick around to listen to their argument. He searches around the gathered crowd until he meets Kayla’s eyes, flicking his head towards the woods. She nods frantically. Knowing he’ll make sure they have privacy, he takes off, aiming for the same place Will went, barely slowing down once he enters the forest.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Will?” he calls, well aware he’s not going to get an answer. “Where are you?”

While there’s definitely no response from Will, he damn near jumps out of his skin when a dryad melts from her tree, shuffling towards him.

“Blond boy?” she asks, leaning close so he can hear her whisper. “Tall? Crying?”

Nico swallows. Fuck. “Yeah.”

“Headed down southeast, ways past Zeus’ fist.“

“Thank you,” he says, hoping she understands how much he means it.

She nods, then disappears back into her tree.

Following her directions, Nico jogs down beaten paths, heading in the direction that he is vaguely sure is southeast and mostly praying that he’ll find Will eventually. He shouldn’t have that much of a head start, since Nico left maybe five minutes after he did, but who knows. Will’s fast, and sometimes this forest seems bigger than it really is. It’s easy to get lost.

He searches for what feels like hours, and might actually be hours; sky darkening as the sun disappears into the lake. The temperature drops significantly. Nico is hoping that he won’t be spending the night sleeping in the dirt when he hears sniffling.

Heart pounding, he freezes, focusing on the sound. It’s muffled, sobs choked-off and sound hidden behind cupped hands. The echo sounds strange, too; it’s close, that much is obvious, but Nico almost can’t tell if it’s coming from the left or the right. Truthfully, it doesn’t sound like either.

On impulse, he looks up. Almost invisible in the branches of a large oak tree is Will, stained clothes blending in with the scratchy bark, leaves covering the rest of him.

Except, perhaps fittingly, his bright, golden hair.

Worried that calling out to him might startle him right off the tree, Nico begins to climb. He’s not great at climbing — he doesn’t have a natural sense of what is and isn’t a good foothold — but oak trees are easy. Every half-step has a branch, and this tree is old enough that the branches are thick, sturdy. He’s twenty feet up before he even realizes, barely breaking a sweat.

He pauses a few feet shy of his target, straightening until he’s standing on an almost flat branch, arm looped tightly around the trunk.

“Will.”

Will startles. He looks around frantically, struggling in the dark, until his bloodshot eyes finally land on Nico. He bursts into more tears, shoulders shaking as he sobs.

Alarmed, Nico crawls all the way up.

“Woah, Will, breathe, vita, breathe —”

He’s not sure what tree-sobbing etiquette is, but regular sobbing etiquette often involves some kind of comforting physical touch, so he goes with that. And Will, he knows, likes to be crowded, likes to be almost suffocated with the sights and touch and smells of other people, to remind him he’s not alone, even if he feels it. So Nico scoots as closely as he dares, legs wrapped around the branch, and slides one arm around Will’s back, one against his chest, and tugs him closely.

Will comes easily.

With a bit of manoeuvring, he’s tucked under Nico’s chin, shoulders hunched and shaking, enveloped entirely in Nico’s arms. He can feel a wet spot growing on his left sleeve, and honestly he should be at least a little bit disgusted, but he barely even notices. He’s too busy fighting the lump in his own throat, blinking back his own tears.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to Will’s curls. “Let it out, Will. You’re allowed.”

Will wails, a deep, choking, broken sound, and Nico loses the battle with his own tears. He’s never heard Will like this. He’s never heard anyone like this, except himself, in the echo of this same forest, years ago. It hurts like biting ice.

“It hurts, they’re gone, they’re gone, and I hate them, I hate them so much —” he heaves, dragging in breath like it cost him to say it, like part of his soul was dragged out of his vocal chords — “and I hate myself for hating them, I hate, they’re gone, I’m never —”

He dissolves into sobs, again, words breaking into nothing understandable, crying around the same repetitions over and over again. Nico hides his crumpling face in Will’s hair, wincing at every broken cry, every hitched breath, every moaned word. His heart feels like it’s breaking into a million fractals. He’s never felt so out of depth in his life.

“Let it out,” he whispers again, for a lack of anything else to say. “Let it out, sweetheart, let it out.”

For a long time, Nico had no one to hold him.

When he lost Bianca, he was by himself. And when he thought he had someone to guide him, someone to fix him, he was wrong — he was vulnerable and easy to manipulate. He had no one to hold him until he was too bitter and too closed off to let himself fall apart, anyway, and losing Bianca stayed somewhere rotten inside him, a bruise that never, ever stopped aching.

Until Will.

Last December he had cracked like an egg. He hadn’t meant to — it wasn’t even in the back of his mind — but he’d opened the door to Will’s smiling face on the morning, cold and sad as it was, and just started bawling. Some part of him, some deep, buried part, stomped it’s way from the prison Nico had kept it in and took the hell over, yanking open the floodgates, forcing him to expel every last drop of shadowy, strangling pain that had stayed inside him so long. He thought he was going to die. His entire body shook and jerked like a rowboat in a deep ocean storm, and it had been Will’s lighthouse, his endless, light eyes, his warm hands, his firm hold that had held him steady until he’d dragged himself out to the other side. It was and is the most painful thing he’d ever done in his life. And the most important.

He doesn’t think Will has had anyone to hold him, before, either. Not ‘til right this moment. Not Chiron, not his mother, and certainly not an older sibling. Will has been running on empty for as long as Nico has known him. Longer.

“Let it out,” Nico whispers again, and holds him tighter.

———

By the time either of them move again, it’s pale, early morning, and they’re damp from the dew and Will’s tears. Nico is as stiff as the tree he’s sitting on, but doesn’t dare say a word about it.

“I don’t want to go back,” Will croaks, the first either of them have spoken in hours.

Nico tucks a strand of hair behind his ear, resting a gentle hand on his cheek. “Okay.”

“We can’t stay here forever.”

“We can stay a while.” Nico pulls away slightly, just enough so that he can cradle Will’s face in both hands, tilting his chin up to meet his gaze. “I mean it, Will. As long as you need.”

“What if I’ll never have enough time?”

“Then I’ll stay with you until time runs out.” He presses a tentative, careful kiss to the centre of his freckled forehead; staying when Will shudders, leaning into it. Against his skin, he murmurs, “But you’ll have enough time, vita. You’re the strongest person I know.”

“I don’t want to be strong.”

“So don’t, I gotcha.” He presses another kiss slightly above the first, and another, resting again at the crown of his head. “But you can be.”

They stay like that until Nico’s face starts to go numb, and even then he doesn’t go far, shifting so his cheek lays on the top of Will’s skull. He ignores the slight tickle of his curls against his nose, focusing instead on the brand of his hands on his waist, the shakey but constant inhales, holds, exhales, again, again, again.

“Clarisse is my friend,” Will starts. “She was as important to me as — as Cass, before the war.”

Nico hums. “But she betrayed you.”

“All of us.”

“And you resent her for it, a little.”

Will nods. “It’s disgusting.”

“It’s human, Will, Christ.” He moves them around so they’re both sitting facing each other, Nico’s eyes firmly meeting Will’s. “I will never fully forgive Percy for letting Bianca die. Never. It’s not fair to him, and I love him anyway, and I am choosing to move past it. But I will carry that burden. Am I disgusting for that?”

Will glances away. “No.”

“Will, you — look at me.”

He does.

“Clarisse actively chose her pride over her people. So did the rest of her cabin. She’s not fully responsible for that choice, and the blame, as always, lands on Kronos’ shoulders, but —” Nico laughs, a bitter, defeated sound. “Out of all of us, you lost the most. No one lost as many as Apollo. No one burned as many shrouds. You’re allowed to be hurt, allowed to be angry.”

“I forgave them,” Will admits. “I did it publicly and called off the stupid rivalry right after the war. It was the first thing I did as head counsellor.”

“Trying to do what Michael would have done?”

“Are you kidding me, he —” Will scoffs, swiping at the tears trickling down the corners of his eyes. “If Michael were alive, and he found out I forgave them after what happened to Lee, too Diana — he would have been furious. He would stop speaking to me. If I was trying to be like Michael, I might’ve refused them treatment.”

Nico tries to imagine that for a second — Will refusing anyone treatment. It makes something sour uncurl in his stomach, something unsettling.

“You would never refuse someone treatment. I didn’t even — I didn’t think you guys were allowed.”

Will shrugs. “There are no rules to our practice. I just never made refusal an option, and the kids are too young to know any different.”

‘The kids’ — as if Kayla and Austin aren’t as old or older than Will was when he was in charge, when he held the bashed pieces of his brother’s brain as it oozed out of his skull. As he sat, exhausted, hands shaking, next to Nico, and embroidered twelve shrouds. As if Yan and Gracie are his, rather than Apollo’s.

“You forgave them so your siblings wouldn’t grow up bitter,” Nico realises. “Oh, gods, Will.”

He shrugs again, picking at his nails. “For me too. Grudges aren’t healthy.” He tries for a teasing smile. “You’d know.”

“I would.” Nico tries to smile back. It’s easier than he thought it would be, although it fades back into something serious quickly. He reaches out, linking his hands with Will’s to stop him picking before he bleeds. “You can be selfish sometimes, you know.”

“Not in front of anyone.”

“You’re admitting it in front of me,” Nico points out.

Will hesitates. “That’s — different.”

“How?”

“You get it.” He looks down, voice quiet. “You get me. I can —” He meets Nico’s eyes again, a kind of helpless smile on his face. “I dunno. You’re safe. You’re okay with me, even when I’m ugly.”

“Even then,” Nico echoes quietly. He reaches up and tucks a strand of hair behind Will’s ear again, even though none were loose. His fingertips linger, and the skin under his touch warms. “Especially then.”

“You can, too, you know, I lo —”

“I know.”

Will exhales in relief. “Good.”

He slumps forward until his forehead rests on the swell of Nico’s shoulder, breaths warming the air between them. Nico tries to match his rhythm — in, out, in, out. Hold. Out, in.

“Can we — hide here, for a little bit? Just a little longer.”

“Of course,” Nico murmurs, squeezing his wrists. “I’ll hide you as long as you need.”

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malleusfucker · 2 years

Text

malleus draconia relationship headcanons

this is basically a part 2 of his kinks & hcs post but i am very much a whore for this man so i NEED. TO. WRITE SOME SHIT.

warnings: smut/nsfw, malleus being a loser virgin, it gets very smutty at the nsfw part so, oral (receiving + giving), unprotected sex, two dicks, implied corruption/humiliation kink, mentions of pregnancy/breeding, choking/biting, mal being lowkey sadistic, sleepy sex, holy shit there are alot of warnings i am sorry, reader is afab but no gender or pronouns are explicitly specified

words: 2.5k

sfw

this is some serious sappy shit but i can’t help it 😭😭 i am literally so in love with this man damn

~ right off the bat, malleus would definitely be the best boyfriend ever and no one can convince me otherwise (or at least one of the best out of the twst cast cuz there’s some uh questionable characters in that list *idia and leona i am directly looking at you*)

~ the way your relationship builds up with malleus is agonisingly slow. he’s very cautious about who he gets close to and is definitely not one to make any bold moves—especially if he doesn’t feel like you’re reciprocating the same feelings—but oh boy. once you do, that’s when he gets a bit more excited.

~ it won’t take long before you pick up on the little things he suddenly starts doing for you. waiting for you after class, asking to visit the library with him after college hours, hell, even just waiting outside ramshackle dorm until you notice him just so he can spend time with you alone. his signs of affection are very straightforward because that’s what he likes them to be. he doesn’t want to confuse you or think that he might be giving false signals. though he might as well be holding up a sign saying “i love you” with the way his infatuation for you is so painfully obvious.

~ malleus is so new to all this stuff, so it’s down to you to show him the ropes. kiss him, hold his hand, hug him. he needs these acts of affection practically every hour of the day as that's what all the books he’s memorised word for word have drilled into his head. he’s completely clueless. but that’s what you’re here for - to help lead the way and show him just how special a relationship can be.

~ and once you initiate things, a stupid smile will permanently be plastered over his face. not missing any opportunity to pick you up from your classes and walk you to your dorm—his love language is just being with you—not even having to touch you but still feeling his heart racing with him just being in your company. he can never get over that someone like you can accept everything about him, loving him for all that he is - ignoring all of the labels attached, and just showing you genuinely care for him as a person.

~ gifts will be a reoccurring thing that you will have to grow accustomed to, expressing his love for you by showering you with kind sentiments such as little presents and items. whether it's gems or tiny rare crystals, it'll always find its way to you - he particularly loves giving you things you can wear, like necklaces or bracelets, crafting them just for you so that every time you wear them, you're reminded of him.

~ but one thing you’re unfortunately going to have to get used to is sebek basically praying on your downfall every single moment he gets. he’s appalled that such a lowly human—one that’s not even capable of performing magic—is hanging around with malleus, let alone being intimate with him. you’re gonna get an earful any time you head over to diasomnia - with you and malleus having to rush straight to his room to avoid prying eyes from not only sebek but also the students too.

~ on the topic of prying eyes, people will be curious - more specifically, lilia. this little shit will tease you both all day every day. asking you very personal things so then he can have his “proud father” moment. cheering and applauding at even the sight of you two simply holding hands - he is embarrassing and it’s evident when you spot the faintest blush spreading across malleus’ cheeks as you walk around campus, muttering under his breath if you can both go somewhere “quieter” (aka as far away from lilia as possible).

~ these wandering eyes definitely don’t help with the fact that this man is extremely possessive. he wants you to have your freedom and experience your time at the college to the fullest but it doesn’t mean that his eye won’t start to twitch at the sight of you being “friendly” with your classmates. having experienced the happiness of being in a serious relationship for the first time, he never wants to let that sensation fade. he’s making up for lost time. being so alone for all the long years of his life will only make him needy, clinging to the thing he loves the most with such an iron grip that he's certain it can't possibly escape from him.

~ but once you do have your alone time, malleus is milking every second of it just pampering and giving you affection. nuzzling his face against your neck, he always loves trailing small wet kisses down your collarbone, mumbling sweet nothings in your ear as you feel yourself drift off with the way he’s lovingly holding you in his arms. when he wants to be, this man is the epitome of gentle. treating you as if you were carved out of glass as he softly caresses your skin, feeling your warmth against him as much as possible just so he can then later reminisce about how soft you feel.

~ did someone say big spoon? nope. not quite. despite how giant this man is, he enjoys taking the roles of being both the big and little spoon quite seriously. with his arms wrapped around you tightly, he’ll cling and cuddle you the entire night, the sensation of his embrace never leaving your side once and waking up with him still gently holding you.

and expect to return the favour on your part. who said that this man won’t become pouty if you don’t snuggle up and spoon him? cuz he sure as hell will. you won’t ever realise it, but when you end up doing the cuddling - malleus literally ascends to heaven. this is so unfamiliar to him so having your warmth just envelope him for the night makes him act as if he was a baby, curling up and intertwining his fingers with yours as he holds your hand close to his chest.

~ if you’re not a morning person, then luckily for you, you’ll become one. not only will you wake up with malleus having his arms around you but no matter the time - he’ll be ready to awaken you with endless kisses, gently planting one on your forehead as you slowly open your eyes. since you and malleus rarely have any quality one-on-one time outside of the morning—he will always devote them to you. he’ll constantly be on you, getting you ready and dressed for the day, preparing you breakfast whilst taking careful note of what you like and dislike so that he can always improve.

he does it all basically.

~ fortunately or unfortunately for you, pda is something malleus isn't too big of a fan of. he deems that anything intimate or romantic should only be shared between the two of you, alone. though he definitely won't deny your advances if you lightly kiss him on the cheek outside of class - he won't exactly encourage it either. a brief peck is all it takes to send him scurrying back into his shell since even being alone with you makes him nervous. though he wishes he could shout out to the world how much he loves you, even the most powerful mage in the college have their weak points sometimes, his eyes widening and cheeks heating up at the idea of you merely hugging him.

nsfw

~ the first time you had sex with malleus - yeah, it was a straight up nightmare. his wide and extensive knowledge of everything apparently stops specifically at sex with the way he’s so clueless. it was to the point that you didn’t think it was even possible for this to be the same person. teach him and he’ll learn - that’s all that there is to it. these moments of blatant naivety fade pretty quick with malleus picking up on everything you tell him almost instantly. this man is so determined to pleasure you with everything that you’ve done for him, prioritising your needs above his 99% of the time so that he can feel like he’s finally giving back to you.

~ he manages to master everything so well in such a short span of time that it’s scary. not even being able to recall your own name by the time he’s done with you, and that time being hours. he spends so long pleasuring you, doing everything in the book so that every time you have sex together, it’s something new and not anything you’ve experience before. but merely just having sex with this man is anything but usual, it. is. overwhelming. even when he’s being gentle with you, you will still be crying with him hitting every spot so good that it makes you think that you may have genuinely gone insane.

~ malleus doesn't see it as just having sex, but rather as one of the few opportunities he has to demonstrate his love for you, and thus he loves making the experience go as long as possible. he wants you to feel it, and feel it; you definitely do. your legs will be shaking so viciously just from his tongue being in between your legs, fearing for how much your body can physically take before he finally decides to fuck you.

~ and once he does, run. RUN AS FAR AWAY AS POSSIBLE cuz this man won’t let you rest, not even once. his immense stamina soon becomes apparent after the first round, his breath still being as even as it was to begin with, the only difference being - his hunger. increasing so much each time you cum, it becomes practically impossible for him to stop fucking the daylights out of you and breaking the bed every. single. time.

~ speaking of bed breaking - you’re fortunate that malleus has the power to fix and put things back together because if he didn’t, it’d be pretty embarrassing having to ask for a new bed every week. it happens 90% of the time with the way he’s so fucking intense, thrusting and driving into you so deep you swore you saw the roof crumbling at one point. he’s so passionate in devoting all his love to you that he can’t help taking it a bit overboard, though what 5 rounds are to you feels like child's play to him. that just being a small portion of how he really feels, if he wanted to, he’d probably spend days just fucking and filling you up non-stop.

~ although being someone so polite and well-mannered, all that decorum is left right at the door. make out sessions will become heated with his fangs wandering and hunting for the best place to dig into, marking your skin so much that he’s confident he claimed you as his own. malleus just loves seeing how much his touches can affect you, the imprint of his fingers still lingering on your neck from when he was gently squeezing it with your eyes rolling back as he repeatedly pounded you with his cocks.

~ for someone as loving and gentle as he is, it feels wrong with how sadistic malleus’ intentions sometimes seem to be. he won’t hesitate to suddenly shove your face into the mattress, brutally stripping you of any remaining innocence as he quietly praises how good you are to him. malleus really brings a whole new meaning to the term “mind-fuck”, drilling into both your body and your mind that he can only make you feel like this and that no one can pleasure you to the extent that he does.

~ he’ll forever love the sight of you pathetically crawling up to him, fumbling with his belt as you desperately try to get his dicks out of his pants, only for you to choke any time you want to suck him off. when you attempt to give him a blowjob, he surprisingly prefers just watching the sight of you get yourself off whilst trying to take him into your mouth more than the actual feeling of it. best believe if you become that horny to try this, he’ll rarely spare you a glance; instead, he’ll just continue reading his book until he finally looks down and sees you hopelessly lapping up all of his cum like a starving animal.

~ malleus would never humiliate you. more so, he just likes messing you up so much that you end up doing it yourself. getting so drunk on his words and body that you can’t resist but beg for him to fuck you full of his semen, being so limp and frail you’ll have to rely on him carrying you everywhere you go - which he’ll definitely be delighted to do, the sensation of your feeble grip on him as he guides you gently to bed never fails to make him smile.

~ of course, sex and foreplay come with his inescapable thirst for wanting to breed you. whether you can have kids or not, it doesn’t matter to him - he’ll pin your legs up to your chest and fuck into you so hard, relentlessly pumping his seed into you to the extreme that you start to believe that he might actually just miraculously bless you with his offspring. here is when his collected and calm facade starts to slip; he is so genuinely terrified of losing what he has with you, and if reminding you of who your boyfriend is is what it takes to keep you from leaving, then he will be more than willing to do it constantly.

~ sleepy sex will be a thing, so get used to it. or rather, you’re the sleepy one in the situation. god forbid you have a wet dream because he’s going to POUNCE. he always thinks of these instances as your mind subconsciously pleading for him to fuck you—and while that might actually be the case—he was gonna do it regardless. carefully pulling your delicate body towards him to avoid waking you before slowly slipping himself inside you. he can’t get enough of the way you writhe beneath him so helplessly, your eyelids fluttering as you involuntarily start to moan and whimper. when i say this man won’t let you rest, I MEAN IT. even in your sleep, he won’t give you any peace. gently thrusting into you when you begin to feel yourself start to awaken, his giant form looming over you in the darkness with your mewls growing louder by the second.

~ but overall this man is a sweetheart when it comes to sex (most of the time), only behaving in such a frantic way to display how much you mean to him, which is a lot. sex is definitely a big thing for malleus because it’s really one of the only ways he thinks a couple can truly express their love to each other. despite being a complete menace one day with all the marking and bruising he gives you - he'll always turn around and love you tenderly the next.

the malleus brainrot is REAL and its here to stay good lord im not called malleusfucker for nothing

6K notes · View notes

chrolloluvr · 2 months

Note

May I request Mammon angst HCs please? Like the reader is possibly breaking up with him or something? (i love your HCs for mammon<3)

Mammon Breaking Up Hcs

note: Thank you i'm so glad you like them pookie!! also yes i love this idea ❤️❤️

warnings: Cursing, creepy behavior, unbalanced power dynamic, killing. Not proofread!

Female!Reader, (no specific gender, so can be GenderNeutral!Reader)

It would be best to tell him over text, since he is guaranteed to throw a toddler like temper tantrum if you ever told him in person.

So you text him over text, what happens? He 100% thinks you're joking at first. He thinks you aren't being serious at all, and that wow babe, you might even be a bigger clown than I am.

But when he realized that you were being serious, he gets angry. How dare you? Why would you ever break up with him? He is the king of greed, he has trillions of dollars in the bank, so why don't you want to stay by his side? Did he do something? Did he hurt you? What happened? Baby, we can sort this out-

In a way, still doesn't think you are being serious, which is what he tries to tell himself. So he will let you leave, and will act like he doesn't need you.

Another author said this already, but he will 100% go through the stages of grief, (he will never go through acceptance, because in his mind, you will always come crawling back to him.)

He will be in denial for a very long time. Let's say you move out, and even start residing in another ring. He will send you texts. All. The. Time.

Your phone will mods likely have 103 Missed Calls, 986 Messages, and 37 Voicemails. He is crazy, and especially crazy for you. So when you don't respond to him, he does not understand why. He likes to think that you were just going on vacation for a while. He genuinely thinks you two are still together.

Anger- Once he sees that you have indeed moved on, and that he is no longer living in fantasy land, he gets extremely angry. His general mood spikes, he lashes out (wayyy more than he used to), and a-lot of his servants are scared to talk to him. Will absolutely keep bombarding you with texts every day. He will even get his servants to start texting you on his 100's of extra HellPhones.

Mamm 🕸️💚 11:34

Come hone ygu little cungt

Mamm 🕸️💚 11:35

ANSWERF ME.

Mamm 🕸️💚 11:35

Do ygu knoe how easily i can replaece yu

Mamm🕸️💚 11:36

Fine go shack uo with sorm dirty hoboes you little slut

Mamm 🕸️💚 11:36

I dont kneed u and youir mediocar holes

So yeah... thats just one example. He has so many spelling mistakes because he is typing so fast, and practically brekaing his phone from how angry he is.

But in reality he does need you. You are. the one thing that keeps him running. However he will never, over his dead body, ever admit that.

Bargaining- He will send things to your... new home... in gift baskets. Fizzarolli plushies, flowers, tickets to his live events, expensive jewelry, the list goes on. It gets to a point where (if you live in an apartment complex) People start stealing his gifts and start putting them up online to sell. (And they go for 10s of thousands of dollars.)

He send these to you so that you can hopefully come crawling back into his life, so that he can control you again.

At this point, you have most likely made it public about your distance between you and the sin. Your relationship was extremely public, and known by everybody.

He refuses to speak publicly, because he wants people to think he still controls you. And when i say your relationship was big, it was definitely the most talked about relationship in all of Hell. People will go nuts about you two breaking up. Another author said this as well, but people will go crazy with the comments.

"L Mammon fumbled so bad its actually wild."

"Bros got plenty other options 💀"

"Why tf would she/they break up w/ HIM???🤰"

"Now that hes single I call dibs 🙌"

You try your best to ignore the comments, but eventually you cant, its not just online, but in real life you feel cornered as well. You might even start to reconsider your departure with him. Which is exactly where he wants you.

Depression- He spirals into somewhat of an insecure man. He strives to be better. He ups his game for his big pageants, soon to be bigger, just to impress you.

He maaaay or may not have killed people in your favor. This is known, obviously, but his obsession along with his newfound insecurity has left him no choice but to show that if you dont want to come home, he will show you its safer than anywhere else.

Overall, if you do end up coming back to him, he is overjoyed with happiness, and will take extra precautions to ensure you wont ever walk out on him and his warm embrace again.

However if you end up never wanting anything to do with him, he will be devastated, but he will force himself to get over it. He is Mammon, he truly does not need you. In reality, you were somebody he felt an unexplainable feeling to protect. He absolutely can live without you, but for some reason, he feels like he cant. If somebody were to ever bring you up, he would lash out, and make his anger everybody's problem. He may get over you after a while, but he will never fully accept the fact that you left him.

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margotw10bis · 3 months

Text

Crashing On Crush.JJK 7 [m]

crush!Jungkook x reader

Genre: smut; series; romance; angst

Words: 4.6k

Synopsis: What happens when your first encounter with your crush is Jungkook seeing your ass?

Warnings: sexual tension; broken heart; Calvin Klein JK (yeah, it's a warning)

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As much as you hate it, you do find Jungkook handsome and your heart has been pounding as soon as you noticed him. And you hate that you missed him - the last time you saw him was two weeks ago in the club. You are surprised to see him but also to see he has cut his hair. You can't help but missing his puffy shoulder-length hair and you want to slap you in the face for that thought. His black locks are now shorter in a mullet-style hair cut with a bang and are lightly curled. But gosh, he looks good. A little too good for your heart's sake.

You forget to how to breath when Jungkook stops a few meters from you. You feel your cheeks burning as well as your whole body and it's not because of the hot and suffocating July of Seoul because the A/C is on inside the art gallery. It's definitely because of Jeon Jungkook, the devil manifesting in a handsome man figure.

"Hi, uhm, I have an appointment with Aecha" He says after clearing his throat

"Follow me"

Even if you invite him to walk with you, it looks like you want to run away from him. Fortunately, you quickly arrive to Aecha's office. You knock and enter, Jungkook by your side. Your colleague offers him a way better smile than you.

"Jungkook, hi! Nice to meet you in person! We are so happy to work with you" Aecha's voice is warm and magically relaxes Jungkook

"Same here"

He tries to sound cheerful. He is really happy and proud that the gallery has approached him for the project, it will surely help him for his career but he does feel tensed to see you. He can't deny he hesitated to accept the job but then he saw it as an opportunity to set the record straight with you. He has been so grumpy that even Mina has stopped asking for his attention and let him work in his office at home. Jungkook has imagined hundred of scenarios of what happened between you and the guy after you left and every single one of them ended with you in his arms. By anger and frustration, he even broke his Apple Pencil and had to buy a new one.

"I am so sorry but I don't have time to talk details with you personally" Aecha continues, genuinely annoyed "But don't worry, Y/N is very professional and I'm sure you'll get along"

Your eyes widen and you throw distraught gazes at Aecha. 'Please, don't make me do that!' You silently beg her. But she doesn't get it or chooses to ignore it as she hands you the file. You do know the artists and the theme of the exhibition, as well as other details about the events related but you don't want to work with Jungkook. You know he is supposed to provide different visuals and supports, which means that you are going to deal with him for days. You're not sure your heart can handle it and you fear your determination to hate him will fail you - to be true, it has already began when he first appeared in the lobby.

Yet, you have no choice but to take the damn file with shaky hands and ask Jungkook to follow you in the meeting room.

A feeling of pain and jealousy fills you when you realize that his girlfriend has got to see him everyday and you have no doubt that he has looked damn hot every single day of these two weeks. Even now, in front of you, he is ridiculously handsome in his matching Calvin Klein denim jacket and pants, a white t-shirt finishing his perfect look. You can't help but wondering if his underwear is also signed CK, which makes you blush. Jungkook is fucking hot like that - would you dare to say that you are aroused by the absence of his usual all-black style?

You shake your head to erase those filthy thoughts and you sit down. You open and read the file, which gives you a good excuse to not look at Jungkook.

"Did you sleep with him?"

Jungkook's voice is neutral despite his pounding heart. He couldn't help but ask you. Even if it breaks his already broken heart, he has to know. His look-the-other-way part argues that if he knows, it'll get easier to let you go.

You immediately look up and open your mouth but no sound escapes it. Just by seeing you blushing hard, Jungkook knows. His fists clench and he is angry. Not at you, but at himself. You left with another man, you slept with another man because he pushed you away. He tries to convince himself that the pinch in his heart is due to his bruised man pride but deep down he knows that it's his feelings for you that have been rattled.

"It's none of your business" You eventually decide to answer "Let's not get personal and stick to a professional behavior"

Jungkook doesn't say anything but nods, poking on his inner cheek with his tongue.

Weirdly enough, you both concentrate on work and are able to have a peaceful conversation. Some details are discussed and Jungkook notes some ideas that get through his mind while you give him more informations.

"Can I see the art pieces? It'll help to get fully in the right mood" Jungkook asks at some point

"Sure"

You both walk through the art gallery and you can see that Jungkook truly appreciates the architecture of the building. You see his doe eyes sparkle with inspiration and you can practically see all the ideas that are currently filling his brain. Witnessing his passion melts your heart.

You enter the code of the storage room and motion Jungkook to step in. You explain that you haven't receive yet all the pieces but you add that he can look at them of the website of the gallery. His back facing you, a sketchbook and a pen in his hands, he is already quickly sketching a few visuals. You are quite intrigued by how fast his brain works and you move forward gingerly. You stand on your tiptoe to look upon his large shoulder and sneak on his sophisticate drawings.

"Wow" You whisper, almost in his ear, unintentionally

Jungkook was so focus on his work that he didn't notice you, but when you opened your mouth he startles and turns his head to your face suddenly. You are so close that your breathes are mixing. His eyes look right into yours but can't help going down to yours pretty lips. He gulps, a vivid memory of your several passionate kisses coming to his mind. He knows how you taste and he is dying to feel it again on his tongue. He wets his pierced lips with his tongue and the move attracts your glance too. A spontaneous wave of arousal goes straight to your lower belly.

Thankfully - or not -, staying this long on your tiptoe causes a cramp in your left calf. You immediately step back and wince, holding on the painful leg.

"What's going on?" Jungkook asks you, alarmed

"Cramp" You hiss

It doesn't take long to Jungkook to kneel down and massage your lower leg. You blush hard but convince yourself that it's due to the pain and not to Jungkook's warm palms on your skin. But why do you mentally praise you for wearing a yellow wrap dress and not your usual slacks?

"It's okay, you don't have to-" You speak up, weakly trying to push his hands away

"Let me do that for you"

His eye is so intense that you only manage to gulp and nod, letting Jungkook rubbing your calf to relax the muscles. You hiss as his fingers palp your aching leg, instinctively grabbing on his large shoulders to not fall. Feeling your hands on him, even through the thick fabric of his denim jacket and under this circumstances, Jungkook feels good. So fucking good. His whole body, that has been tensed for weeks now, softens under your touch. It's like he was physically missing something that your hands give him back. Someway, it's the first time you wish your cramp was lasting longer.

"It's gone" You say unsurely and, with regret from both sides, Jungkook stands up

"I'm sorry-"

"Don't. Please don't" You close your eyes in pain, not willing to remember once again what he did because you surely didn't forget

You hate him for breaking your heart but you don't hate him. Quite the opposite actually. You still love him, so fucking much. You can't change the past and you surely can't be best friend with him but you can make this professional relationship work. You want it for the gallery but also for Jungkook because you still think he is very talented and deserves the contract. That's why you take a deep breathe and start talking:

"Look, I know things have been... weird between us. Let's just put that aside and concentrate on work. I really want to feel good here so let's not make things more awkward. I think it would be nice if we could be colleagues"

Jungkook looks at you for a moment, surprised. He doesn't really know what to say when there are so many things that he wants to say - if that makes any sense. He runs a hand through his fresh cut hair.

"I'll work hard then, for you"

He doesn't specify if 'you' refers to the gallery and all your colleagues and artists involved or just you. But your heart doesn't care about the difference and skips a beat. You try to put a - weird - smile on your face to look relax.

"Welcome onboard then, Mr. Jeon"

————

Day 2 of working with Jungkook and you have to say that you are surprised how things go smoothly. You and Jungkook really get along - on a professional level - and your two brains seem to share the same ideas and vision of the project.

When he went home, Jungkook went straight to his home office and started sketching some visuals. On the one hand, he wants to work slowly only to get the chance to spend more time with you. But on the other hand, he has so many ideas for the different supports. The project clearly excites him and he hasn't been this motivated for a long time. Moreover, your cute yellow dress of the day seemed to be another reminder that you are like sunshine is his life and that everything looks better when you are around.

This morning, he has joined you in the same meeting room and gave you a cup of latte - he knows it's your favorite beverage - that he has bought on its way to the gallery. The sweet gesture didn't go unnoticed by your weak heart and your cheeks did redden. As soon as you two have sat down, Jungkook put his sketchbook and graphic tablet on the desk and explained the different concepts. You were so impressed by his work and how much he has done in just one evening. You couldn't help but being worried that he had not slept well and the dark circles under his beautiful eyes proved you no wrong.

You don't even notice it was lunch time until you hear a knock on the door. You look up and meet a sweet and cute familiar face.

"I didn't want to bother you but I've been waiting for fifteen minutes so I thought that you might have forgotten me"

Jongseob seems embarrassed and is blushing hardly. Your heart immediately melts and your smile widens. This doesn't go unnoticed by Jungkook who wonders how many men have stolen your heart. He can't help but feeling jealous. When will his possessiveness stop? Especially when you're not his.

"It's okay. Actually, I lost track of time. Please come in, Seobi"

You get up and give a big hug to Jongseob. The young man is quite impressed by Jungkook. His black outfit has returned and his tattoos are showing up under his oversize t-shirt. He does look intimidating and Jongseob feels a wave of protectiveness towards you, hoping that the stranger didn't give you a hard time.

You have no idea of what is going on in Jongseob's brain and you turn back to Jungkook.

"Let's meet up in two days so you have time to make the changes we've talked about. Then, we will show everything to Aecha" You say with a smile and Jungkook simply nods.

You notice the way he is staring at your young friend and realize that they don't know each other.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't introduce you-" You are cut off by Jongseob

"I'm Kim Jongseob"

You are surprised by his confident and quite cold tone. It's so not like him. You even feel his arm easily wrapping around your shoulders. When did he get this tall? You look at him, asking him with your eyes what the hell he is doing. But Jongseob is completely focus on the black-hair man.

"Jeon Jungkook"

Jongseob's eyes widen and immediately turn to you. Your face expression confirms what he thinks: it's the man who broke your heart. If you didn't say a word on your Graduation Day, you couldn't lie when a few days later Jongseob has asked you about how it went when you confessed your feelings to your crush. Even if you tried really hard to not cry in front of him, you couldn't stop a few tears. Jongseob was so heartbroken for you and has spent the day with you at your place, eating ice-creams and watching Disney movies.

The body of your usual so cute friend tenses immediately and he leaves your shoulders to step in front of you, protectively. His eyes narrow when he gazes at Jungkook.

"I hope he hasn't done anything to you" He says with his jaw clenched, talking to you but looking at Jungkook

A scoff escapes Jungkook's lips. Who the hell is this kid? He doesn't know anything about him and yet, he is judging him. Only if he knew that at his age, Jungkook was... No, it's better if he doesn't know, otherwise you would know too. And he surely doesn't want you to know.

"Jongseob" You say softly, a hand on his shoulder "Jungkook is working with me, everything is fine"

"Can't someone else deal with him? Why it has to be you?" His voice is more gentle now and he is looking at you, finally

"No, and it's okay. I promise"

"What are you going to do about it, uh?"

Your eyes widen in surprise while Jungkook smirks and then pokes his tongue in his inner cheek in a provocative way. He doesn't even know why he opened his mouth in the first place. Maybe he was just tired of everyone treating him like shit or maybe he wanted you to know that your little guy couldn't compete with him. 'Stupid fucking ego' he thinks.

"What did you say?" Jongseob responds aggressively, taking a step further and Jungkook does the same

"I said, what are you fucking going to do about it?" Jungkook articulates each single word, his jaws clenched

You start to panic and take place between the two men.

"Stop it now, the both of you" You try to be firm but your voice is a little shaky

"You were right, he's a fucking asshole" Jongseob goads

"What did you say?" Jungkook barks this time, ready to throw punches in this little fucker's face

"Jongseob!" You shout "Go wait outside, now"

You are so tensed that your whole body is shaking with adrenaline. What are you going to do if they start fighting? But you release the air of your lungs when Jongseob does as you say. You look at Jungkook to try to know what he is thinking but his features are too neutral, except for his gritted teeth.

"Jungkook, I-I never said that" You try after a moment of silence

"It's okay" He sighs, trying to relax the tension in his body "Even if you said it, you had every reason"

You stand in front of him, not knowing what to do. You are unsettled when a little sneer escapes Jungkook's mouth. You look at him, questioning him with your eyes.

"At least you have people to protect you"

"Jungkook-"

"No, it's okay. I see you on Friday with the finished visuals and support designs"

Jungkook grabs his stuff and goes away, leaving you breathless and heart pounding.

————

"Noona, I'm sorry"

Jongseob has spent the whole lunch apologizing but you haven't said a word. You are so disappointed in his behavior but you are also destabilized by the way you feel angry at your friend for attacking Jungkook. You shouldn't feel that way, it's true that Jungkook broke your heart but why do you still want your friends to have a good impression of him? It doesn't make any fucking sense and you sigh in frustration.

"Stop apologizing. What you did was wrong Jongseob"

"I know but he... he was just there and he broke your heart! Are you really okay working with him?!"

You take the time to think. Are you okay with it? Honestly, yes. And more honestly, you are happy to work with him. You wish the reason of that was because Jungkook works well but it's not: the reason is that you want to be with him, in anyway possible.

"Yes, so please stop. Maybe you don't want to hear it or you don't understand but Jungkook is nice"

"How can you say that?!" Jongseob gasps

"He is, really. What he did to me was wrong but beside that, he has been really nice to me"

And it's true. Objectively, the cheating-on-his-girlfriend-with-you part put aside, Jungkook has been nice to you. The two days you have spent working with him showed you a new face of him: the passionate yet so considering of other's opinions side. He has carefully listened to you, has taken the time to explain to you technical things about designs and has worked hand-in-hand with you to provide the perfect visuals. Even beside that, the morning coffee and the way he has hold the chair for you to sit down or the way he has turn off the A/C when he noticed you were cold, proves he is a good person. Maybe a little selfishly too, you want to believe that you have fallen for a good guy and not a shit head so the whole story wasn't you being completely wrong about him.

"Look, I'm a big girl. I know you're worried but everything's fine, Seobi" You smile at Jongseob, trying to calm him down

"Okay..." He sighs "But if he tries anything, please tell me and I swear I'll punch him in the face, just for him to know he can't mess with you"

Your heart softens at his pouty face and you promise. You know Jongseob just wants to protect his Noona but deep down you know Jungkook won't try to hurt you again.

————

You haven't heard of Jungkook until he shows up on Friday for your expected meeting. You have sweaty hands, not knowing how will be things between the two of you. You give him an unsure smile when you welcome him and you feel released that Jungkook is back to his old and nice self. He shows you the final project and everything is perfect. You compliment his work and you may notice a slight blush on his cheeks.

You waste no time and you two head up to Aecha's office so she can approve, what she definitely does. Your colleague is really impressed and praises the both of you. Your chest is full of pride that you managed the situation. You are really excited to be more involved in one of the gallery's projects.

To celebrate your success, you invite Jungkook at a nearby coffee. It doesn't surprise you anymore that Jungkook orders you a latte but it's appealing to your weak and soft heart. Coffees in hands, you sit down at a table.

"I'm so happy that your visuals have been approved! I can't wait to see the posters in real life and on the big screens of the gallery!" You tell him excited, which makes him giggle.

"I'm glad too. Tell me if you need help with the printer guy, I know that sometimes they can be a little hard to handle and delay things until you lose your mind"

"I'll sure do"

You feel so good joking with Jungkook. It feels like before you discovered about Mina, back when everything was so natural and delightful between you two. A small wave of nostalgia washes over your body and a small part of you wishes you didn't know about the girlfriend. However, the bigger part of you feels better to know that he didn't cheat on his girlfriend with you more than that.

"I have to tell you something"

Jungkook's serious tone and face make you stressed. You wonder what other bomb he is going to throw at you and how you'll manage to survive. 'Please, tell me there is no other secret girlfriends!' You pray

"Mina" He starts and your heart sinks by hearing the name, you still feel so guilty towards her even if you didn't know "She is not my girlfriend"

What the hell?!

Your eyes almost roll of your sockets by surprise. You are speechless. Does he lie? But he is looking straight into your eyes and you don't see anything but pain. But if she is not his girlfriend, why did he lie about lying to you? It doesn't make sense!

"She is my best friend, well at least back in Busan"

"But, why?" Is all you manage to say, your brain is completely upside down

"It's just an old habit of us, saying to other people we're dating. When we were younger, we were so close that most people thought that we were actually a couple. At some point, it was kind of a joke to confirm it"

Jungkook's nostalgic smile is not happy but quite sad and your heart squeezes. You wonder what caused him such pain but you don't want to push him.

"Maybe, back then, there were more than friendly feelings between us but it's not the case anymore. I just want you to know that nothing happened between Mina and I"

"Why'd you tell me that?"

Jungkook's eyes grow big in surprise. He doesn't really know why he tells you the truth. Perhaps he just doesn't want you to hurt because of this, because of him.

"I don't know..." He sighs "I just wanted you to know"

You don't know what you feel. On the one hand, you are relived that he didn't cheat on his girlfriend with you, but on the other hand, you are still heartbroken because he has still rejected you - and the reason was not him having a girlfriend but just not wanting to be with you. And that hurts like hell.

Jungkook looks at you with his big doe eyes, biting on his bottom lip, while he waits for you to say something. But honestly, you don't know what to say. So he keeps going:

"I haven't seen her in years but she came up to me. She needed some help. Things are-were complicated. I'm sorry if I hurt you, I really didn't want that"

"I understand" You don't but what else could you say?

"Y/N" He says gently, grabbing your hand at the other side of the table "I am really, really sorry"

The warmth of his hand goes straight to your heart and cheeks. Why does he have to do that? It's so hard not to fall for him when he acts like that! You want to hug him and tell him you forget everything as long as he is with you. But you can't do that, so you smile instead.

"I wish I could go back and do things right with you. Maybe... maybe we could be friends or something?"

Jungkook winces at the way his thoughts have turned into words. It sounds so dumb and it's not really what he wanted to say. He wanted to ask you if you would accept to see him again, like before. Like when you were supposed to have a date at the Lotte aquarium.

"I guess we could be friends" You say in a small voice, almost a whisper

Jungkook's heart jumps in his chest and he knows he'll try everything to make it up to you. But first, he has to deal with Mina.

————

Since you have done a great job with the communication campaign with Jungkook, Aecha sends you over to meet the print firm. You are walking around in Seocho, a district of Seoul, but take the time to follow the Han River boardwalk. The heat and humidity is almost unbearable but the view is so beautiful. The sun is mirroring on the water. You close your eyes, feeling the D Vitamin entering your body. You hum in contentment.

Nevertheless, the universe couldn't let you in peace for five minutes. Your blood runs cold when a familiar but non welcoming face appears right in front of you. Mina. You don't really know how to act in front of her now that you know she isn't really Jungkook's girlfriend.

"Hi" You tell her with an unsure voice

"Hi, Y/N right?"

Mina's smile is bright but not really friendly. Something in her behavior makes you uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry, I can't stay long, Jungkook is waiting for me at home" She takes a dig at you

Her little scornful tone drives you crazy. Before you can even think properly, you open your mouth:

"Jungkook told me the truth. You are not really together"

For one second, Mina seems unsettled but she hides it quickly. You feel your heart beating faster and your hands freezing, just as if you were ready for a fight. It might not be a physical one but it will surely be punches with words.

"Did he?"

You stay silent, waiting for her to set the mood. You don't have hard feelings for her. You could be friends, if she wants to.

"Look, you seem like a nice girl" Although it doesn't sound like a compliment in her mouth "But I'm not sure you are the good person for Kookie"

"I think he's old enough to decide for himself"

"We might not be an official couple but we do share something special. We've been best friends for years, we have been through so many things, you won't ever be able to understand. I know him but I'm not sure you can say the same"

You are taken aback.

"I-I do know him" You sound less confident than you wanted

"Oh, really? Did he tell you about his past?" Mina smirks and you frown, confirming what she was thinking "I just don't want you to be hurt, Y/N. Jungkook and I are meant to be together. It might take some time but it will happen eventually. If you stay in between, you'll only get your heart broken"

Your watery eyes blur your vision. You don't know how Mina manages to do it but her words are so sharp that you could swear she is telling the truth. Maybe it's a result of her magnetic aura.

"I love him"

It's the final blow for you. An intense squeeze hits your cardiac muscle. You don't even know who you are anymore. You have read too many books, you have seen too many movies not to know. All along, you thought you were the main character of the story. But you're not. You're the second female lead in Jungkook's story: the one who only exists to make him realize that his true love has been in front of him since the beginning. There is no better destiny than two best friends finally aware of their true feelings. Fate, cruel as ever, put you on Jungkook's path for him to acknowledge that Mina is the right one for him.

And that fucking hurts.

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tommyspeakycap · 9 months

Text

shopping

jay loves you so much he actively enjoys being dragged around dress shopping

jay halstead x reader tooth rotting fluff x

“What do you think of this one?” You ponder, running your fingers over the fabric of a dress in the millionth store you’d dragged your boyfriend into. You had left the finding of a dress for your friends wedding pretty last minute and so far, despite the fact Jay would attested you looked drop dead gorgeous in every single one of them, you were still declaring that you hadn’t found one that looked good on you.

“Why don’t you try it on?” Your boyfriend suggests, attracting your frazzled attention to him. When your eyes land on him there isn’t an ounce of annoyance towards you. Men notoriously hate doing things like this, following their partner around shops. Jay’s missing the game today, he’s probably knackered from working constantly and you wouldn’t be surprised if he was thinking of elaborate ways he could kill you and make it look like an accident right now just like many men stuck shopping with their partners have done in years gone by. Boyfriends before him to you and other women across the country have moaned and groaned the entire way around, asking repeatedly when you would be done and genuinely considering leaving you there.

Jay had not murmured so much as one complaint.

Jay Halstead is probably the best boyfriend in the world. He drove you here, he reacts with the same adoration with each and every dress you walked out in. Your boyfriend - not probably - unarguably, is the best boyfriend in the world. Only whilst you’re trying on a million dresses will he fiddle about with his phone, but the second you emerge to show him, his phone immediately goes away so he can direct his full attention to you again. He even carries the dresses you’re going to try and will lift them out of your reach when you try to protest. The only thing he’s threatened you with so far is that he would rip one particular dress clean off you and have you in that dressing room if you weren’t careful.

Ever the gentleman, Jay Halstead.

You had never had a love like this before.

All of a sudden you’re overcome with guilt, a frown falling onto your face. On duty or not, your boyfriend is a detective immediately a frown of his own appears across his beautiful features, concern furrowing his brow as he notices your face falling. “Baby,what’s wrong? You’ll get something. And besides, you know I think you look amazing in all of them.” Jay soothes softly as he takes a few steps towards you in concern at the sudden sadness written across your features. “No it’s not that,” you sigh, “You never get time off and today you have and i’m dragging you around half the stores in Chicago. I’m so sorry Jay, we can just go and i’ll come back another time.” You hurry to grab the other two dresses he was holding for you and stuff them back onto the rail they came from while Jay simply stood still and cocked an eyebrow.

“Jay?”

“Are you finished?” He taunts, prompting you to furrow your brows. “Am i finished wha-“

“Do you really think i would rather be anywhere else right now?” He asks, almost incredulously as if he cannot believe that you would ever even consider the fact he would want to be anywhere other than with you. “No matter what we’re doing, i’d always rather be with you. I mean what kind of man would complain about watching his hot girlfriend trying on hot dresses all day?” Jay reaches up to cup your cheeks, smoothing his thumbs over the soft surface. “Seriously honey, I’d spend the rest of my days doing this if i got to do it with you. Now let’s get you that perfect dress so i can rip it off you in two weeks eh?”

You snort a laugh, cheeks flushing bright red. “Oh detective Halstead, you are so getting some tonight.”

~~~

“Okay, okay, okay.” Jay hears your voice and finishes off the text he was sending. “What about this one?” He casts his eyes up to you and back at his phone to lock it quickly, but the device nearly actually slips right out of his hand as he attempts to do so. His head snaps back up to you as he stuffs it into his pocket. “Woaaah my god.” He breathes, eyes wide as you blush under his gaze. “Jay…” you trail off, crossing your arms over your chest. Jay has loved all of the dresses so far, so this reaction you assume is just over exaggerated because he wants you to feel good.

If only you could see inside his mind. It’s like some kind of primal alarm has gone off. Jay feels himself building up a little sweat as he blinks a few times to confirm that you are really stood in front of him, really his girlfriend and really that fucking hot. “Seriously, (y/n). I literally don’t have words. If you don’t chose that one we are definitely getting it anyway.” His face is as serious as it is when he’s at work, eyebrows raised to add to his insistence. “This one is my favourite,” you agree bashfully. It is very obviously your boyfriend’s favourite too. The brunette is doing his thing where he’s become a little bit lost, like someone’s reached inside him and spun his head.

He had very effectively been knocked from the unshakable hardened police detective and reduced to a boyfriend who’s adoration for his girlfriend beams right out of him. It’s as though love hearts have appeared in his eyes, heart fluttering at the sight of you giving him a little twirl. Jay’s mouth is dry, his stomach flipping.

The only thought in his mind is that he wants this forever. Your silly little ever-so-slightly timid showing off of outfits, your blushing grin when he compliments every little thing about you, his spinning head, his thumping heart and the knowing he is the one who gets to take you home; all of it. He wants it forever and only with you. He wants to spend all of his forevers totally enthralled by and entirely speechless because of you.

“Perfect. I’ll meet you at the register?” Jay finally speaks, trying not to trip over his own words. You nod with a giggle, making a show of swaying your hips a little extra because you know he’s watching you walk away. One of Jay’s favourite cheeky little phrases to recite comes to mind as you do so, and you know he’s muttering it to himself know. ‘I hate it when you leave but i love to watch you walk away’.

You’re quick to change back into your own clothes, aware Jay is waiting for you and if left alone in a shop too long he will find something to buy for you that is more expensive than you need or start to worry you’ve been the victim of a spontaneous changing room hostage situation. “Any luck?” The older lady manning the dressing room asks you sweetly, immediately forcing a big cheesy grin onto your face at the thought of Jay’s reaction to that dress. You’d had quite a lot of luck recently, you thought. You had gotten lucky with Jay, and you knew that better than anyone else. He was the love you had dreamt of and had been almost certain you’d never find.

“Yep, think i found the one.” You reply, holding the dress up for her to see. “If you don’t mind my saying.” She begins softly before casting her gaze out onto the shop floor to spot Jay before she turns back to you, “I really think you have. He’s one of the good ones.” Jay is just stood there, holding the bag with your new shoes in one hand and your coat tucked under his other arm waiting patiently for you to return so he can wrap his arm around your shoulders and press that kiss on your temple the same way he always does to greet you. Her lips are tugged into a genuine smile. “Brings back your faith in love a little. We don’t see many as good as him.” She adds quietly, watching your eyes cling to the man you love so much. “I don’t think there are any like him.” You admit sheepishly. When you meet her eyes again it’s like she can see right through you. Had you not been so wrapped up in him, you might have humoured the idea that people even outside of your circle can actually tell you Jay were just meant to be.

“I best not keep you any longer, he might burst.”

Despite her joking, you both know the tall brunette doesn’t like being away from you. This lady does not know you and nor does she know Jay, but just by observing for mere moments the way you interact with each other, she knows what everybody knows when they see you together.

How truly and deeply in love you both are.

These moments with him, mundane and boring as some might see them to others, are fleeting for you and Jay. His job keeps him as busy as any job really could. He doesn’t get to come shopping with you as often as he’d like, and Jay is nothing if not hyper aware that he does not always have the luxury of time to treat you how he believes you should be treated.

If anything, he spends a significant amount of time worrying and beating himself up about the time he doesn’t get to spend with you. He’s conscious of the fact that he doesn’t ever get to whisk you away on weekend getaways in case his job needs him or that he doesn’t treat you to fancy dinners as often as a man with a simpler job may be able to. He doesn’t always have the time to hold you in the mornings or fall asleep by your side. Jay Halstead will beat himself up until the day he dies about the fact he cannot shower you in his love the way he wishes he was able to.

In the very same breath, you make sure every worry and fear he has ever had about not being enough for you is squashed before he ever even thinks it’s showing. He is far from insecure about your relationship, but he is nothing if not aware of the fact you are deserving of someone who has more time for you.

To you, it is the mere fact that he makes time where time literally doesn’t exist that matters most.

Whether he has half an hour of a lunch break or no time at all, he will always find a way to make sure he’s texted you, ‘I hope today is treating you well baby. Love you x’. Every day, without fail. When he misses a dinner he will scramble in that front door all puppy eyes and more broken hearted that you could ever be that he’s missed it, with flowers slightly damaged from how quickly he tried to get home and grovelling apologies you accept in the form of a gentle, love soaked kiss on his lips. His apologies are always accepted. How could you ever hold a grudge when you can see his pain in those pretty blue eyes. On your worst days, he will find a way to wrap his love around you tight enough to squeeze all those broken pieces back together. How could you ever be angry when he tries so hard, you know the effort he has gone to in order to stop work from consuming his life the way he once did as a younger, single man. He is there, present or not. He is always there and you know he loves you because he shows you in ways even you haven’t come to fully know. When a case hits a little to close to home he’ll crawl into bed in the middle of the night and he will not let you go. When he knows you are fast asleep safe in his arms, he mumbles about how nothing will ever harm you so long as he’s around. In the time you do get to spend together, you feel so much love that it could last you a lifetime.

You never ever want to be without Jay Halstead.

“You know how much i love you, right?” You mumble softly with your head tucked into his shoulder, waiting in a patient and comfortable silence in the line to pay for your dress. “Course. Why do you ask?” Jay mused, tilting his head a little to look at you. “Dunno, just wanted you to know it’s…a lot i guess.”

“You guess?” Jay teases, jostling you playfully against his side. “You guess?”

“Jayyyy,” you whine, swirling yourself out of his grasp. Your boyfriend throws his head back with a loud chuckle, eyes crinkling the way they do when he’s genuinely happy. Only you can make him smile that way. “I’m trying to be sweet!” Your protest makes him laugh harder.

Before you could even get your phone on the card machine to pay, Jay had already done it and was thanking the man behind the desk. You were pretty much stood guffawing at him, highly displeased that after a day of being dragged here there and everywhere, he was now paying for the clothes you needed. “Now i’m trying to be sweet.” He retorts. “Come on pretty girl,” he rolls his eyes playfully at you, “Lets get out of here eh?”

You always fear you don’t remind him enough that you love him more than words could ever say. Jay on the other hand couldn’t believe such a ridiculous thought could ever come from such a smart woman. He feels your love every single day in every single way.

With your fingers linked together, you and Jay strolled off towards his truck. Jay has this weird feeling in his gut today. He hasn’t been able to put his finger on it all day. Only when he looks over at you in the car, one hand in yours and the other on the wheel, that this feeling is contentment. It’s peace. Just the feeling of total relaxation for the first time in his life. It is you. You are his peace, his lifeline, his home. No matter where you are.

And maybe it’s a little bit of nerves, brought on purely by the little box wrapped in tissue paper and buried under some of the clothes you had bought. Being a gentleman wasn’t the only reason Jay had insisted on carrying your bags.

He was going to propose tonight.

And then he was going to spend forever loving every single little mundane moment you get together for the rest of his life.

#jay halstead #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead imagines #chicago pd #chicago pd imagine #jay halstead x you

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hataini · 2 years

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RANDOM BOYFRIEND HEADCANONS — tokrev men

.+ tags: baji keisuke, mitsuya takashi, kakucho, ran haitani, rindou haitani x fem!reader, angst (?) in ran's part,

♡ BAJI KEISUKE is the type of boyfriend who always waits for you after school. He's never missed a day, even when you have to stay late at school to finish a group project. He insists that you are way safer when you're with him and also because he wants to see you one last time before going home, he'll never tell you that though. “What are you doing here?! I told you to go home because i'll finish late” he takes your bag from you and scoffs, “And let you go home alone this late? Never.”

♡ MITSUYA TAKASHI doesn't need to ask you what your favorites are, he can find them out himself. He loves listening to you talk and gives you 100% of his attention. You sometimes think that he isn't listening or that you're annoying him but whenever you stop in the middle of your sentence he looks up from the work he's doing, “Why did you stop talking?” you feel your cheeks heating from embarrassment “Oh, i thought i was boring you or something...” you hesitated. “No, in fact i was loving the way you were talking about the cute cat video you saw online.”

♡ KAKUCHO believes that action speaks louder than words. Although he never fails to tell you that he loves you every single day, he doesn't forget to always make you feel that you deserve the whole world. It's either he does it by bringing you on dates, surprising you with gifts, or holding you hands on public, he does it all very genuinely. “You are my one certainty in a thousand of doubts. Remember that, my love.”

♡ RAN HAITANI is the parent's favorite. He is a brown noser knows exactly what to say to your parents. Sometimes you even think that your parents love him more than you. That's why when you two took a break from each other, your parents was so insistent that you two fix whatever you fought about. He visits your house everyday and everyday your parents would let him in, but everyday you would also be out to avoid him. Soon when he realized that you were hellbent on ignoring him he left a message for you to your father. “I'm sorry, i really am. I love you more than anything else, so please, can we talk? If not, please just answer my calls or text me.”

♡ RINDOU HAITANI knows that you are very shy about pda and honestly, so is he. Don't get him wrong, he loves touching you and being near you but he knows that you get uncomfortable when it's in public. When behind closed doors or close circle of friends, he gives it his all. He always needs to touch you in some way whenever you two are alone, and when waking up? he is so whiny when you try to break away from his embrace that it's almost cute if only you don't have work to do. “Where are you going? It's cold without you, come back here.”

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kingconia · 9 months

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Hello! Can I please request the scenario of S/O, WHO IS LIKE NEUVILLETTE FROM GENSHIN IMPACT (AKA. IT RAINS, WHEN THEY WANT TO CRY) for Deuce, Jamil, Idia and Silver?

DEUCE, JAMIL AND SILVER WITH S/O, WHO IS LIKE NEUVILLETTE FROM GENSHIN IMPACT

(AKA. IT RAINS, WHEN THEY WANT TO CRY)

A/N: I sincerely apologise, dove, but I couldn't write anything for Idia. But I hope others will be to your liking.

Deuce Spade. ❤️

— It is safe to say that Deuce was one of the first people in this school to become close to you. Your wisdom—Deuce was genuinely surprised how easily you made right conclusions, and supported him about his past—made him attracted to you from the first sight;

— Deuce is very attentive, so it doesn't take a lot from him to notice that you become more upset within days. It is the reason that he can't figure out;

— I am going to be honest: I don't think Deuce understands that these rains and your mood swings are connected, somehow;

— Deuce comes to confront you about your moods, bluffing shamelessly that he knows everything. That is when you blurt out the truth about being a water dragon, and those weather changes, too.

•

”Oh,” Deuce pats your shoulder awkwardly, still processing everything he had heard from you. ”You kept that to yourself for so long... It must be tough. Are you okay, Y/n?”

It hurts him to know that you spent months bottling up your emotions, and if not for his stupid idea, you would probably continue to do so. The strength of your spirit that Deuce always admired about you plays with you the cruel joke, it seems.

”Oh, darling, I am fine,” you try to reassure him. But there are dark clouds appearing outside, just behind your back, where window is opened. ”I am fine. Just, please, give me a minute.”

You let out a quiet sigh, pressing your foreheads together. Deuce puts a hand on the back of your head, stroking it gently, helping you to relax like that. The slow raindrops start falling on the ground, and he smiles at you reassuringly.

”Rest, Y/n. I am here.”

You nod, repeating his words slowly.

He is here.

You can rest.

Jamil Viper. 🧡

— Jamil is quiet happy with that rain becomes more often thing around the school, but he surely thinks it is strange. In his motherland, every single change in the weather—especially, such an abrupt one—is a sign from gods. So, he starts looking closer;

— He is aware that gods don't rule over this school—at least, he thinks so—but yet, he is sure these weather changes should mean something. He even talks with Kalim about this situation, just in case if he knows something;

— And at the meantime, you become gloomier and gloomier. Jamil wonders if it is the sign he searches for: that his beloved is in trouble that he is blind for? Or, maybe... His beloved is the deity that offers him signs?

— Jamil confronts you almost instantly. ”I know what you are, Edward.” ”Say it, Bella.” You see no reason to hide the truth from him, so you explain that in your reality you are not a god, but another important figure in the pantheon.

•

”But what message you tried to deliver by these rains?” Jamil wonders out aloud, much later, when your head is on his lap.

You close your eyes, humming when he strokes your hair gently.

”Pardon?”

”For us, the change in the weather by your kind means something particular. When you cast the rain, what do you want to say by that?”

Jamil can see you pondering for a while, before offering an answer.

”I can't cry. Not like you, humans, do,” your voice is barely audible, so Jamil leans closer not to miss anything. ”I only can call for rain, and it serves to be my tears. I apologise for that, too. It must be bothersome.”

All this time, when he happily greeted the rain, it was your tears?

”No, don't be sorry for that,” he reassures you quickly. ”Cry as much as you want. But... If you need to be heard, I am here. And if you need someone to keep silence with, I am here, too. I can keep an umbrella for you.”

The corners of your lips slightly turn up. And when Jamil is staring at the window, he sees nothing but a shimmering sun. He is more grateful for it than usual.

Silver Vanrouge.

— I think, thanks to the fact that Silver spends most of his time around the strangest creatures, he can sense them easily among others. So, he probably knows that you are one hell of the student, but just can't determine what are you;

— When weather starts worsening his first theory is that Malleus is sad. But his investigations shows he is wrong, it is clearly not about the housewarden. Then... Who?

— The only other person he can suspect is you. Silver also thinks it is a worthy theory, since you had been sombre for a while, distancing from others;

— Silver respects you, so he doesn't insist on telling him about your origins. He only comes to reassure you that you are safe with him—safe to share with everything, too—and if he can help somehow, he is at your service. Silver doesn't expect that always collect you will break down in front of him all of the sudden!

•

The storm outside the dormitory is the worst that Silver had ever witnessed. It is a raging one. He hears windows wheezing, and thunder rattling. But it is your roar, roar of the wounded animal, that makes him shiver.

”H-here you are,” Silver whispers, patting you on the back, cradling in his arms like a little kid. ”Here you are, Y/n. You are safe. Safe and sound.”

What you said to him earlier, about the feeling of being left out, not being a part of something, of the certain community... Silver knows it all a little too well. Even after all these years, even after all his father's help and love, sometimes, Silver feels out of this place.

”I-I am so sorry...” You hiccup, hands coming to squeeze the fabric of his shirt. ”I am being disrespectful, and—”

”No, no! Please, don't apologise. Cry as much as you want. I am going to stay, anyway.”

For a second, there is a silence: in the outside world, and in this room as well. And then, before everything resumes, you ask, voice so quiet, that Silver wonders if he imagined it:

”Are you willing to stay with me?”

”I am,” Silver tells you. ”I am staying. You are not alone anymore, alright?"

You don't say anything anymore, and so, Silver starts humming the song his father used to sang to him, when he was much younger; still a child, who would wake up from time to time from the horrifying sounds coming out of the forest.

You listen to it, and Silver knows, it is working. You are falling asleep in his embrace slowly, and the chaos outside slowly calms down alone with you. Eventually, Silver feels like drifting off, too.

The storm is gone. And he will be here, when you wake up.

You can have nice dreams, beautiful dragon.

#twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #silver twst #silver x reader #deuce spade #deuce spade x reader #jamil viper x reader #jamil x reader #jamil viper

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jayden-killer · 10 months

Text

YOU LOOK LONELY.. I CAN FIX THAT. (Miguel O'Hara AU!)

summary: Year 2099 and a new A.I. had been lanuched. He is called "Miguel" and he's here to comfort you in your most hard times. But, little you know, he's more than a A.I.

paring: Miguel O'Hara x F! Reader.

A/N: woah there, Detroit: Become Human and Blade Runner combined togheter? Why not, hehehe.

WHAT'S IT LIKE TO HOLD THE HAND TO SOMEONE? INTERLINKED.

DID THEY TEACH YOU HOW TO FEEL FINGER TO FINGER? INTERLINKED.

DO YOU DREAM ABOUT BEING INTERLINKED?

INTERLINKED.

Year 2099. Bright neon leons illuminated the streets, high skyscrapers were imposing themselves, showing on their huge advertising screens and weather forecast. It was night, and the air smelled of smog. She always believed that all those air purifiers wouldn't be very effective. But now it didn’t matter, because among the crowd of people in the street she walked with her head down, tired eyes that seemed off. Next to her, dozens, no, many more people, ready to start their weekend. They planned to go to nightclubs, drink, have sex, or do something she didn't care about. She heard their laughter in the background, and he could clearly see some guys pushing each other, laughing, and joking in the corner of his eye. She didn’t care. She just wanted to get to her house. Then she gave himself a push and marched more quickly, because she could no longer. She wished to put an end to the terrible sadness in her heart.

"I'm home".

The moment she walked across the threshold of her house the lights went on, lighting up the living room and kitchen. She breathed deeply and threw out the excess oxygen accumulated, also expelling the tension she had accumulated in the day. She looked around, and calmly placed the bag on her raw coffee table until she heard some sweets in the house, yet heavy steps. Her eyebrows leapt up and a smile, a soft smile, fell on her face.

"Miguel," said his name softly. "You’re here."

"I am always here, dear. Ven aquì". The man smiled back and extended his arms in her direction. She didn’t waste any time holding him to herself. Miguel tilted his head to the side and a confused expression landed on his face. " I can feel your heartbeat, and your blood pressure is 61 mmHg. What’s going on, dear?" Miguel’s arms touched her gently, almost as if she were a fragile doll, caressing her hips. Her eyes shone.

"I just missed you, my love" she answered quietly, never stopping looking into his reddish, brown eyes. "That's all".

"I want to help you, mi sol, how can I?"

Miguel blinked, genuinely worried about his partner’s health. He gave her a rough hand in her soft hair and continued to caress her. She stared at him with those eyes that showed true love, felt, and felt good because now it was just her and her Miguel. It was just the two of them in his house while the world was doing who knows what beyond those walls. He sighed, and nodded, answering Miguel’s question. "Oh, no, I’m fine. I just missed you so much".

"I’m here, mi flor, I’m here," he repeated once again, bringing his body to him, a hug that Miguel really felt. His heart pompo more, feeling so close to him the person who had immediately shown him kindness, sweetness. The warmth that emanated from his loved one was comfortable. It was all true for him.

"Do you want to watch a movie? In exactly eight minutes, they’re gonna broadcast the "Bicentennial Man". It’s your favorite movie, right?" Miguel smiled at her, grabbing her hand and gently sitting her down on the sofa. She did not take her eyes off him for a moment: his tall, imposing figure, with large shoulders and trained arms, but she only saw a sweet man who needed great affection. He was perfect in every way.

"Of course I do, but only if you will be next to me to pamper me".

"Absolutely". Miguel landed lightly on the sofa and took a breath. With a gesture of the hand, the television went on, and the channel was rolled into the desired one with a single finger move. The girl got much closer to the man, cuddling up to him, resting her temple on his huge muscular arm. Miguel spent no time surrounding his beloved with that arm, bringing her closer to him. The two remained there, enjoying their presence, occasionally discussing the development of the film, a film that she had reviewed over and over again.

It was now night, the hologram of the clock marked 12.12 am. Miguel’s eyes fell on the figure of his beloved then sleeping companion. He calculated his breath and his heartbeats, and everything seemed normal to him. He was just resting quietly. He understood that his day had been intense, without her telling him, but he didn’t want to hurt her. Because over time he had learned to respect the needs of humans. He had become accustomed to their habits, or rather, to the habits of the one who had welcomed him to his house, without treating him as a slave, without showing racism towards him, just because he was a robot. Yet, he felt real every time he touched himself in the face, fingering his facial features. Every morning it was the same. Her arms picked her up, taking care not to wake her. She looked like an angel, he thought, admiring her as if she really was. How could human beings be such beautiful creatures, so deadly?

"Door, please," he muttered. The door to his room opened like a curtain, closing behind him. She walked calmly to her bed, then rested it on the warm mattress she had heated for her. He pulled the blanket up, and he watched her sleep for a few more minutes. She couldn’t believe it, she was the most beautiful creature he’d seen.

"Rest, my love. I’ll be here with you tomorrow too," he smiled, laying a subtle, soft kiss on her lips. His artificial heart blew, even more, even more the liquid that was contained in his circuits. He lowered the shutters and warmed the home environment a little more. Leaving the room, Miguel headed for his post, where he would recharge for the following day.

"Model 70868". This was what was written horizontally on his desk. He was not comfortable with it. He didn’t feel like a simple robot, something built to serve mankind and satisfy it fully. He didn’t feel like a machine.

"I want to be human".

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theepisceswriter · 10 months

Text

𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐍𝐓 — Gojo Satoru

♡ Synopsis: You and Gojo go together real bad and he loves spoiling you.

♡ A/N: MUVA IS BACK !!! This is my Renaissance moments (crickets cause nobody probably remembers who I am nmplpw). After lying to y'all like my daddy and saying I'm gon come back every summer, I finally returned with a lil sumn sweet for yall and who else to signify coming back after a long time than Gojo? I hope y'all enjoy and I did good, feedback appreciated since this is basically me dusting off lmao. Love you!!

♡ WC: 1.6k

♡ TW: not proofread, she/her pronouns, afab body parts, penetrative sex, intimacy, 18+, and I believe that's really it lmk if I missed anything.

“Gojo?”

His ears instantly picked up on the soft sweet soundwave that was your voice, vital to his ears like bees are to flowers. The quietness and tenderness of your voice alone is enough to provoke that primate instinct in him to protect, provide, and nurture. From his relaxed position on the bed, he’s quick to toss the phone that previously had his attention on the dresser and divert his eyes in your direction to give you his undivided attention.

And trust that when his gaze finally fell on you that’s exactly what you had; his undivided attention.

“Well, aren’t you just a sight for sore eyes?” He cheekily grinned, head tilting to the side.

Your nude body that leaned against the bathroom frame was clad in a brown fur coat and nothing else but the precious jewels and gold that adorned your neck, wrists, and fingers. All courtesy of him, of course and you couldn’t be more thankful to have a man like Gojo in your life; One who spoiled, protected, and loved you like his life would end and become a waste if you left it. The love between the two of you was genuine and pure. You brought him out of a dark place mentally and he saved you from your humble beginnings. Without each other you’d both be lost and you guys knew that. Which is why everyday you showered each other in affection and love so neither of you would forget what this union meant to you.

“It’s the new one you bought a couple of days ago, do you like it?” Your fingernail lingered between your teeth as your eyes met his piercing gaze, his usual hue a shade darker as he drank you up in all your glory. You were so perfect just the way you were that you didn’t even need lingerie to catch his attention. How he hit the jackpot with you he has no idea, but he thanks himself everyday for every single choice that led to this moment.

“No.”

“No?” Soon you’re mirroring him, the same cheeky grin and head tilt occupying you too.

“I fucking love it.” He reiterates, motioning with his head for you to come to him.

You comply quickly as ever, gliding to his side in seconds giggles leaving your mouth in the process. You find yourself straddling his lap with both of his large calloused hands in the crevices that separated your hips from your thighs. You can feel his erection forming and pulsating against the thin fabric of his grey sweats. Which in turn pulsates against your bare clit the moment you’re settled on his lap. The small gasp that leaves your lips at the sensation leaves him almost in a drunken dazed, the effects you had on this man were far more powerful than any sorcery anybody could conjure up.

His love for you ran deep, but any lighthearted playful feeling that filled the room was now replaced with a thick yearning for lust. So close and passionate that you could quite literally feel the physical manifestation of your desire for each other in the form of an addicting body heat. Just as he was in a daze-like state over you, you were equally lusting after him. That’s what made this relationship so raw and lasting; everyday feels like the honeymoon stage when you’re both putting in the same effort.

“You drive me crazy you have no idea,” He muttered as he trailed his hands along your curves, his eyes following along closely watching the way your skin dimpled underneath his touch. He didn’t mind spending his family’s hard earned fortune on you if it meant he got moments like these, he’d go broke over you if he could just to show how devoted he was to you.

“I think I have somewhat of an idea,” Your arms found solace around his neck which you then used as leverage to pull him closer to you. The motion caused the fur coat to fall beneath your shoulders exposing your breast to him in the most teasing peeks that brought him to a rock hard state. You made sure to tease him even further by pressing your chest as close as possible to him as you leaned in to steal a kiss, the cold metallic jewelry in your nipples touching his every other movement sending electricity through his chest.

His lips engulfed yours with a ferocity so high that he nearly had half of your chin in his mouth as well and you made sure to return that energy just as strong, swallowing his lips right back. You didn’t even realize you had begun to swirl your hips down on his erection until you felt the vibration of a deep guttural groan on Gojo’s end reverb against your lips.

God, you could stay like this for hours, days even, but there was nothing you wanted more in this moment then to have him deep inside of you. And there was nothing he wanted to do more in this moment then please the both of you.

“Gojo, I want you so bad, baby,” You were able to huff out once the two of you pulled back from each other. Both of your lips swollen and red, a true testament of your passion in this moment.

“I’ll always give you everything you want from me, love,” His words came out in a murmur because the minute his lips detached from your lips they went straight to your neck, peppering your sensitive crevice with kisses. He teased your nipples with two quick kisses before he was lifting you and his hips up to pull his erect cock out of his sweats. Which now had a dark stained patch on the crotch area courtesy of you.

“Always so nice and wet for me, this pussy knows who it belongs to huh?” Before you could even elicit a response you were cut off by a moan. He wasted no time in dragging the swollen pink tip of his dick between your slit to collect your wetness as lubricant before slipping it inside of you with ease all the way to the base.

“My god!” You gasped out loudly, your walls immediately clenched around his cock but that didn’t stop your wetness from seeping out of you; creating a damp mixture with your cream at his base.

“This cock is all yours baby, don’t belong to nobody else but you,” He could barely get his words out in between grunts, just as turned on as you, if not more. His hands returned to your hips to lead the both of you to a rhythm as you rode him and lift you up just a little bit higher than you would naturally go so he could watch his cock slip in and out of you. Call him crazy but the sight was equivalent to fine art in his eyes, it was a marvelous sight that he adored to observe; how well the two of you fit each other. He was certain, just as sure as you were, that he’d never be able to be this connected and feel this much pleasure from anyone else during sex. Every single feeling he had for you uniquely belonged to you. He would never allow anyone else to have access to him the same way you do. This was a once in a lifetime connection and neither of you wanted it to end anytime soon.

“I love you so much.” He growls out through clenched teeth. That knot in his stomach was tightening and he could tell you were close to the edge too from how much stronger your walls began to clench around him.

This had to have been the type of pleasure Frank Ocean was talking about in Pink Matter, he thought.

“I-I love you- FUCK ! I love you more, Gojo.” You can barely get your breathless words out through pure bliss and pleasure. The only reason your eyes were still open was because you enjoyed watching your partner’s face twist and contort with each bounce you made. His clean and pale face now pink with lust and his signature white hair stuck against his forehead with sweat.

His hand travels to the back of your neck to connect you two for one last nasty kiss as you both creep up on your orgasms. This time tongue was involved and the kisses were bigger and sloppier than before, the two of you intoxicated with a dangerous mix of love and lust. Just the kissing alone would be enough to bring you to your orgasm quickly, but of course cocky Gojo had to collect some of the mixture of you guys’ saliva from the corner of his mouth and use it to rub your clit in circles.

“Cmon my pretty girl,” He mumbled against your lips, “Cum for me. Cum all over my cock for me, please. I need your slick covering me, please.” He practically begged.

And that was all it took for that overstimulating wave to crash over your body. A mixture of a moan and groan ripped from your lips and echoed throughout the room. Which led Gojo to join you in your high seconds later, your moans, knowing that he was producing, them doing the trick.

Immediately you fall off of him by his side and he’s quick to pull you into his side, grip tight as ever like he was scared he was going to lose you. You nuzzled into his side, neither of you caring to clean up just yet. Part of the reason being because you wanted to enjoy each others company and the other reason being because you were both very much still out of breath.

“I love you, I love you, I love you.” You recited in an almost sing song voice as you peppered his chest with kisses.

God bless anyone who’ll try to take him from you.

#gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru.#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #JJK.#jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk fanfic #gojo fanfic #gojo satoru #jujustu kaisen x reader #jujustu kaisen #jujustu kaisen fanfic

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sapphicdib · 9 months

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Your cycle consumes itself. What have you become?

(ˡᵒʳᵉ ᵈᵘᵐᵖ ᵇᵉˡᵒʷ ᶜᵘᵗ)

SO THIS IS MY INV VS SAINT AU!! It started as a shitpost and uh. Spiralled. Out of control. And now it’s genuine lol.

Enot and Saint are basically mortal enemies, and Saint needs to get Enot OUT OF THE CYCLES in order to continue his work, because this damn horny bastard won’t stop hunting him down…for some reason. Isn’t ascension the greatest gift you can bestow upon the creatures suffering in this barren wasteland? At least Saint thinks that. Inv, on the other hand, does not.

Enot stumbles upon Pebbles while passing through the silent construct, trying to find food one day. He takes a liking to this half-dead pink toaster, bringing him scraps of fabric as blankets and lanterns, and the best part…talking to him. Inv, somehow, can talk to iterators. And despite Pebbles’ very limited ability to reply, he does appreciate the company, and slowly the cycles become less agonizing. Pebbles has a friend. However, when Saint finds him, his immediate reaction is to attempt to ascend him—and he is tackled by a very angry slugcat, hissing and spitting at him in defence of its friend.

When Saint attempts to ascend him, he misses, just barely clipping Enot’s tail and glitching him half-out of reality. He then realizes, to his horror, that his karma seems to be draining. Whatever the hell this thing is, it’s dangerous, and Saint retreats to restore his karma (and heal some of the nasty wounds Enot gave him).

Inv turns back to see Pebbles, staring at him in pure fear, before he simply whispers out a “Thank…you…”. And that’s when Inv makes it his mission to save Pebbles (and everyone else) from Saint.

This leads to Inv running around the map, hot on Saint’s heels, trying to get any and all the iterators to figure out a way to get off their damn strings and LIVE again! Most of them are collapsed or semi-collapsed, so it’ll be an uphill battle, but when a glitchy, teleporting slugcat with the ability to speak tells you to do something…you’d be kinda inclined to do it.

Anyways the reason Enot can’t be ascended is because he is happy to give in to every single one of the great taboos. Wrath, Lust, Friendship, Gluttony, and Self Preservation. He revels in them. And if he can help the others experience them, and become happy with living again, they’ll be immune too! Also he is ridiculously OP to the point of him basically just having DevTools active because I think it’s Funny. He can glitch-teleport and drains the karma of beings around him. He also talks super casually and I think it’s funny.

A little bit of their dynamic hehe:

“Hey, pal!”

“I would like you to stop calling me that, please. You may call me the Saint.”

“Ahah. Not happening.”

“You are incredibly disrespectful.”

“Hey man, I’m not the one calling myself a saint but then running around killing shit and acting like it’s a good thing.”

“You use such vulgar words. I ascend beings, freeing them from the torment of these endless cycles. It is my purpose.”

“Even the ones who don’t want to go? Bro, you don’t even ask. The last robot you almost merked was screaming “no wait” at you, and you still think you’re in the right here? You’re not some kind of righteous saint, that’s called being a fuckin’ serial killer.”

“You do not understand what you are talking about!”

“Whoa, buddy! Are you gettin’ mad? Ain’t that…a lil taboo? PFFT look at your face!”

“I am not tolerating this any longer. Goodbye.”

That’s all I can think of rn! Send asks if you like!

#rain world #rain world downpour #rain world au #rain world saint #rain world enot #rain world inv #my art #rw #inv vs saint au #inverted cycle au #<- new tag!#inverted cycles au

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liasadventuretime · 1 year

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˗ˏˋyou jealous ? :) ´ˎ˗ - neteyam x reader pt. 7

⁀➷ part seven : RUN.

notes : so um hi y'all !! ik it's been two weeks but here i am beggin y'all to forgive me just like neteyam in this part LMAAOOO, anygays... here's pt. 7, it's a bit more long than the other parts so enjoy lmao.

word count : 7.5 k ( DAYUM ??)

warnings : so much smut ( mommy kink, begging, edging, p in v, tears, slapping, oral sex f, degradation, humiliation, public sex, two men in the same day LMAOO SORRY Y'ALL I HAD TO. ), beating, blood, slight cheating, and that's it ?

ao’nung didn’t waste a single minute, his fingers grazing your cheeks gracefully, lips attaching in the lightest softest kiss anyone has ever given you. your heart closed, lips parted, he kissed you again. something boiling in his stomach, feeling like heaven.

he has waited so much time, maybe too much for this moment. and he would wait all over again if everytime he kissed you it was going to be like this. he couldn’t even believe it. he was floating, he was still dumbfounded. you were kissing him, and no it wasn’t any fucking kiss.

it was a kiss without any type of lust, just genuine love. well, at least that’s what he thought. he would’ve paid gold to read your mind in that moment, and see what you were thinking or feeling. he has already kissed you a couple of times before, but none of those kisses has ever felt like this. his eyes closed, his hand on your jaw, your hand grabbing the back of his neck. your fingers could feel the goosebumps, making you smile against his lips.

the tip of his tongue separated your lips, almost as if he was asking for your consent. your tongues latched together, your salivas mixing. you tasted like berries, which made him remember all the times you tasted like this but didn’t notice. you loved fruit, he knew that though. his hand grazing up and down your back, feeling like a baby.

is this what it actually feels like to be in love ?

he’s the type of guy to say “you look beautiful tonight.” but you missed screaming, fighting and kissing in the rain.

but did you tho ? all you could feel now was the way he fatherly held you, and how he cared.

he gently moaned in your mouth, which made you smile against his lips once again, making him fluster and get a bit nervous. but he didn’t care, he trusted you. you could feel the sun kissing your skin. you felt all giggly and dreamy, almost like this was your first experience.

it was unexplainable. there were no words, no phrases, no anything to explain how you were feeling right now. this is all you have always wished for.

he slowly parted his lips away from yours, only for him to see your shiny eyes, so soft and delicate, looking at him like you were in middle school and the boy you loved just kissed you. he started trailing kisses from your mouth, to your cheek and to your jaw. he marked and bit everything he could, he could taste every single part of you.

and he just couldn’t get enough. his hands on your back, one on the back of your neck pushing you against him.

oh, fuck. from now on, getting over you is impossible.

you filled his ears with lustful moans, feeling a tear roll down your thighs. you were out in public, so to try and keep the moans for yourself, you bit your lip, and only a few seconds after you could already taste the metal on your tongue. your mind was completely fogged by the pleasure, eyes glossed with tears. oh fuck it.

“ao’nung, stop the teasing.” you whispered in his ear, a moan catching on immediately after. he could feel you nails abuse his shoulder, and oh how he loved it. maybe this would’ve lasted not more than an hour, but those marks ? well, those scars were going to be a part of him forever. he smiled.

“aw, but you like it sweetheart, don’t you ?” he replied back, raspiness veiling over his voice. this man was starved, famished almost. if you were going to dive in this ocean, he’s not going to accept anything that isn’t the bottom of the sea.

you arched your back against his body, trying to get some friction, and relieve some stress. he noticed, smirking against your neck.

“just fucking say it if you want it that bad.” he spat out, not even leaving you a second to formulate a phrase.

“please…” “please… what ?” “please ‘nung. please.”

he sighed. "i'ma need to be more specific. what do you want ?" he said, waiting for an answer.

"i want to cum, want you to make me feel good." you whined in hear, cheeks red from the confession.

he didn’t wait a second, immediately swimming to the beach. he walked, and laid you down on the hard floor, feeling the coldness of it.

someone could walk right there and see him between your legs, but he didn’t seem to have a care in the world. you couldn’t hold back the moan that had been bubbling in your throat for so long.

he harshly grabbed your thighs, placing them on his shoulders. nose and lips softly grazing the inside of your thigh, electricity flowing through your body, feeling the air hit your sensitive bud.

you could feel your face heating up, tears glossing your eyes.

you tried to squeeze your thighs together, get some friction, anything at this point, but you couldn’t. ao’nung holding your legs wide open, you mumbled out of frustration but he ignored you.

he blew some air on your puffy clit, he could feel your thighs tensing in his hands, but he could also feel your frustration building up and his dick getting more and more hard. he laughed and chuckled at all your reactions, but he loved how sensitive you were.

thinking of all the times he had to get himself off in his pod, when no one was around, because that day you just looked too pretty or you smiled too hard at him. maybe because you bent over, not realising the flesh of your ass was showing the sweet and supple curve of it. you were much more innocent than you’d like to admit.

you got distracted from your thoughts when you felt a slap, ao’nung directly hitting your core, a tear rolling down your cheek, a smirk on his face. your thighs shut, but you could feel ao’nung’s calloused hands running down your thighs, opening them for him.

your slick smearing all of your pussy, this is probably the wettest you’ve ever been. he enjoyed every sight he could get of you, your clit sensitive, your thighs trembling in his hands. he felt like in fucking heaven.

all he could hear was your moans, whimpers, squeals, demands. and he fucking loved it.

“’nung, please.” you cried, sniffing loudly. he looked up at you, face teary and mouth trembling.

if the devil could see you, he would kiss your eyes and repent.

“please… what ?” he asked, making fun of you once again.

you whined, not feeling a thing anymore. the teasing was too much, but to say you hated it was a lie. you just love not getting what you want, do you ?

“please, help me.” you said, not being able to say what you wanted, one time was more than enough. you were too shy, but it was a bit ridiculous, knowing that your legs are spread wide open and his face was between them.

“help you what ? use your words, ( y/n ), don’t act all dumb and embarrassed with me, you know what you want. ” he said, placing another slap on your sensitive aching core. you squealed, swearing you could feel actual pain. he immediately harshly opened your legs again, now getting annoyed, his eyebrows pinched together. “keep your fucking legs open, or else i’ll stop.”

your head tilted up eyes flashing wide, not wanting him to stop. “no, no please ! i’ll be good i promise !” you said, begging and riding your heat to his face, to get any type of contact. you started to squeeze around nothing.

he waited, placing a few kisses on your thighs and a soft kiss on your clit. you placed a hand on your mouth, you were literally sobbing from the pain, and how much you loved it.

“please, i want-” you sniffed, sobbing. “i want to cum.” you said, looking at him. that was it.

“good fucking girl.” he said, getting to work.

he softly wrapped his lips around your clit, his hands tightly wrapped around your ass, your mouth hanging in an ‘o’ shape. your hands wrapped their way on his scalp and braids. you loudly moaned, making him groan against your heat. he inserted a finger, you tugged his braids roughly, he swore he could feel his scalp bleeding. he slowly pumped in and out, eating you out like he was starved.

you pressed his head against your pussy, getting a huff out of him. his pace sped up, feeling your legs tense, knowing your climax was about to be there. he placed another finger in, lowering your stomach against his mouth with his hands.

it made you go crazy. you saw stars, eyes rolling back at his sudden move. he smiled against your core, knowing he hit the right spot. his fingers slowly dragging out of your entrance, he hugged your waist pressing himself over your aching core.

as you felt your climax approach, your moans started to get more and more loud. you were going to get in serious problems, but how could anyone blame you ?

the oloeyk’tan’s son is between your legs, eating you alive. one person, that was it. that’s all it would take for Tonowari to make you pack your bags and send you back to the forest. the thought ruined the moment, so you focused back on ao’nung, well it wasn’t like you couldn’t anyway.

he could feel your climax approaching as he saw you clenching and clenching. he could feel his jaw starting to cramp up, but he couldn’t stop and he couldn’t get enough of you. your scent, your taste, your sounds.

your orgasm hit you like a truck, being absolutely shocked by it. you rode out your high, ao’nung liking your juices off his lips, to then kiss you.

you placed a hand behind his neck, deepening the kiss. you moaned in his mouth, him placing you on his lap. you let out a gasp, feeling his erection about to rip his loincloth. he placed one last kiss on your lips, now the only thing connecting you was a string of saliva.

“did you like it ? was it okay ?” he asked, softly grazing your face. you cuddled in his hand, he could feel your face as hot as ever.

you nodded, feeling your eyes about to withdraw, tired. he placed your chin on his shoulder, your face resting in the crook of his neck. he softly cuddled you into sleep. but suddenly.

you felt something. almost like jake could feel every time lo’ak was doing something dumb.

someone had been watching you the whole time.

you softly opened your eyes, ao’nung’s hands still caressing your back with slow strokes. you felt goosebumps.

you looked around a bit, trying to understand if that was only a feeling or if someone had been watching you the entire time.

your eyes gazed through the pods, your heart stopping as soon as you could feel yourself drowning in his dark, angry eyes. you heart immediately sinked, your boned ignited. you saw his mental bomb ticking in his brain, his fists getting more and more tight, his knuckles as white as they could get. he felt his nails piercing his skin, leaving little moons.

neteyam.

you suddenly stood tall, a questioning expression on ao’nung’s face. he saw what you were looking at, and he had to admit hat he felt his heart skip a beat. neteyam walked furiously towards the two of you.

“neteyam, wait i can explain-” you tried to stop him.

ao’nung immediately stood up, not necessarily caring about neteyam catching him, but caring about how you got scared as soon as you saw him. all you could hear was his fist kissing his face. your hand immediately grasped around your mouth, eyes widened at the sight of the blood in front of you. neteyam on top of him, punch after punch. he was seeing red, and he was not going to stop. not now, not ever. he felt his heart thump loudly against his chest, hands holding ao’nung from doing anything.

he couldn’t hear anything, and you ask yourself what could have happened if no one stopped him. you tried to run and grab neteyam by the arm, only getting a death stare in return. you slowly walked back, not being able to say or do anything. you tried and seek for help. but there was no one near. neteyam was there just because tsireya told him that you and ao’nung went for a swim, and he knew exactly where y’all would’ve went. in the few seconds that ao’nung had, he flipped the situation now beating neteyam.

you swore you heard a bone break. your heart beat fast. you were panicking. breath short. fuck. you screamed. all you could do.

“LO’AK ! DAD !” you screamed and plead, feeling hot tears roll down your cheeks, your heart about to explode, because you knew this was all your fault.

it was getting bad, you could barely recognise neteyam’s face from all the blood. a pit deepening in your stomach.

almost a few seconds later, you saw jake running towards you with tonowari on his side. tonowari harshly grabbed ao’nung off of neteyam, him being held back by his dad.

“you better hide motherfucker ! if i find you i’ll skin you alive and keep you as a swimming suit.” he spat blood on the place, feeling angriness bubble in his stomach as ao’nung smiled. people were coming forward to see what was happening, some gasps leaving their mouths at the scene. you looked at him, his lip split open, his mouth bloody.

“yea, wear it ! ( y/n ) might even want to fuck you, if you’re lucky.” ao’nung spat at him. jake tried to hold him off all he could, as you felt some wandering eyes searching for you. fuck.

you were never ever going to fuck again. anyone. not a soul. you promised. you swore.

★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★

neteyam and ao’nung got dragged by both of their dads to the healing pod, where they could get patched up and see if their bones were still intact. you didn’t follow them, you stayed by the sea. looking for an answer, that would’ve maybe gently hugged your feet the same way the water was. you had to deal with it. your actions just got two guys in the healing pod, getting all patched up. before talking with any of the two guys, you had to sort your feelings out. you lacked communication, that’s for sure.

you sighed, the sun setting down slowly, the sky was painted orange and pink.

on one side, there was ao’nung. you two had a little fling, that got out of control. now he’s probably head over heels for you, and you felt so much attraction towards him, but attraction had nothing to do with compatibility. you two were just different, and it would probably end badly, both of you getting hurt. but how could you know if you didn’t try ? he was nice, responsible, attractive… he just ticked all the boxes.

on the other side, there was neteyam. fighting, war, problems, you’ve been through it all, there was nothing left. you missed him always, comparing him to anyone who happened to be in front of you. you lost your virginity to him, just to get treated like a piece of meat. but neteyam wasn’t the only one at fault. were words the same as going ahead and getting eaten out by ao’nung ? did it solve anything ?

maybe he didn’t even mean it, or maybe you were trying to justify him. nonetheless, you had to talk it through. if you two weren’t some horny ass teenagers, y’all would’ve talked everything out that night, but oh well what happened, happened.

you got up, deciding to go see how they were doing since you were the reason they were there. walking through the pods, you noticed tuk and kiri playing in the sea with tsireya. you would’ve liked to go play with them, but you were too embarrassed. just knowing they knew everything made you feel like a slut. an ungrateful slut. ungrateful because even though you treated both of their brothers like shit, they never hesitated to lean over a shoulder to cry on, and a pair of ears to listen. your gaze turned down, deciding to ignore your feelings now, because they were much more important things to do.

you arrived at the pod, slowly opening the flap, to see who was inside. you noticed neteyam on the bed, getting patched up by alyara. you felt your heart throbbing, but you had no right to. that’s the least you should’ve expected.

ao’nung was seated on a chair, another random girl helping him with the medications. you noticed her leaning over to take all her stuff, packing to go away. your gaze met hers, and she lightly smiled at you. your stomach warmed up at her gesture, noticing how kind she was. you smiled back at her, letting her space to get out. Ronal saw you, calling you over to enter.

“oh, ( y/n ), come in !” she said, the tent getting silent, ao’nung looking back at you as you entered, neteyam not having the energy to. he was so tired, he wish he could just lay in your arms and fall asleep. but he unfortunately, couldn’t. he squeezed his eyes shut, not being able to get the image of you and oa’nung out of his mind.

the way you softly melted on him, the way he cared and caressed you. why weren’t you like that with him ?

after kiri got back to her brothers, neteyam asked what happened and why you were upset. kiri was astonished to say the least, almost disgusted, which only made him feel even more dumb. she told him everything, and he swore he felt his heart stopping. with just those words, he ruined everything he worked so hard for. he didn’t see you as a prize, he didn’t see you as an object or anything like that. he saw you as his mate.

his soulmate.

the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. he couldn’t get enough of you, ever.

you’re the only that his dick could get hard for.

and he just wanted to say it to you, cuddled between his arms, only for him to see and feel. that’s why he tried to look for you, after thinking about what he wanted to say. he didn’t see you anywhere, but he knew you had to go to a meeting with his dad. jake was already training with tonowari, so the meeting must’ve already ended. he saw tsireya and kiri playing and swimming with tuk, so he just asked them.

“she went swimming with ao’nung, i saw them earlier.” she said, a careless relaxed look on her face, but kiri already could see and feel neteyam’s organs starting to eat eachother. “oh. thank you…” he replied back, immediately running to your spot. and he arrived there, well…

he squeezed his eyes shut as hard as he could, a painful grin appearing on his face. he wish ao’nung could’ve punched that memory out of him.

you walked in the pod, careful to not disturb anyone who was working.

“alyara, go take care of you brother, ( y/n ) will deal with neteyam.” ronal said. you flushed, realising she probably still don’t know exactly why ao’nung and neteyam fighted, well you imagine it must be embarrassing for ao’nung to know his mom knows he got into a fight because he was eating out, the breeze slapping your faces.

ao’nung hesitantly wished his mom would tell you to come patch HIM up, but he felt even more jealous that neteyam could get all peppered and taken care of by you. you walked towards neteyam’s seat, he didn’t even dare to look at you in the eyes, he didn’t have the courage. you noticed, but tried to act like you didn’t.

with all the herbs and creams ready, you looked for a chair around the room, but you couldn’t find any. you noticed neteyam started lightly angling his leg towards you, leaving an open spot on his thigh, but still not looking at you. you decided to not even think about, placing yourself on his thigh. you remembered that night you used his thigh for something a bit more different, and just could tell he was thinking about it too.

ao’nung couldn’t stop staring at the two of you. seated on his thigh, taking care of him. his fist tight, not being able to hold off his jealousy.

neteyam noticed you scooting a few times to not fall of his leg. he drove an arm behind your back, a hand on the side of your thigh, helping you not fall. he looked at you, meeting your gaze. you both smiled lightly at eachother, neteyam not being able to hold his smirk for himself.

you put some herbs on his shoulder, getting a hiss out of him.

“ow ! ow !” he complained, teeth gritted, eyes squeezed shut.

“if you weren’t such a skxwagn we wouldn’t be here.” you said jokingly, expecting a reply back. neteyam just chuckled, a sparkle in his eyes.

you massaged everything in place, noticing a few more cuts on his back, well other than the scars you gave him. you blushed at the sight of them, earning a little smirk from neteyam who noticed what you were looking at. his ears suddenly flattened against his head when he couldn’t feel you on his leg anymore.

you got up, having to apply the medication on his back. “turn around.” you said.

he didn’t hesitate, getting his hair out of the way. your held your breath for a second, getting caught off by his muscles.

everyone knew neteyam was an ass guy, but only he knew you preferred back over anything. seeing it all bloody and scarred flipped something in you, but decided to ignore it for now. you hesitantly palmed his back, stroking it slowly with the medication. he flexed a bit more, knowing this was going to push your buttons. you massaged everything, not being able to ignore the size of it.

his back was majestic. there was no other words to describe it.

neteyam relaxed in your hold, breathing deeply. he slowly closed his eyes, almost feeling like falling asleep. as soon as everything gets handled between you two, he was going to make you massage his back every single night after training.

he let out a soft moan, his eyes immediately flashing open, mouth pressing forming a thin line. you raised an eyebrow, looking for him, while he tried to not look at you. he was blushing so hard. you smirked and smacked his back. “you’re done.” you said.

“oh thank you ( y/n ) ! would you mind patching ao’nung’s hand before going ?” ronal said, flashing a smile at you. poor woman, working too hard, you felt too bad. you headed towards ao’nung, feeling neteyam’s eyes burning on your back. he was much more tense.

you got all you needed and took ao’nung hand in yours. you tried to act as stiff as you could, neteyam didn’t have to be so nervous because you had already made up your mind. you applied some herbs on ao’nung’s hand, getting a hiss out of him, as he squeezed your hand. you just noticed how much bigger it was than yours. you concentrated back on the patching.

you slowly and carefully wrapped his hand in some gauze, so none of his cuts could get infected. he saw your eyebrows pinched, concentrated.

he loved the way you were playing with his hand, but he could recognise that you were being a lot more distant than other times. you finished, smiling at him. “done.” you simply said. he patted your head, catching you off guard. “thank you.” he said.

if he wasn’t all patched up, neteyam would’ve ate up that guy again. the audacity.

“oh thank you ( y/n ) ! such a sweet woman you are.” ronal patted you on the back warmly, making your stomach flip at thought of her knowing what happened earlier.

ronal and ao’nung got all their stuff, reassuring you and neteyam that you could close the pod whenever you wanted to. you blushed and thanked her. neteyam was seated on the medical table. ao’nung couldn’t do anything but go with his mother, feeling jealousy boil in his blood.

the pod got quiet. not a single sound coming out of the two of you, only neteyam getting up to sit on the mattress instead. you slowly walked and sat near him. the tension was too heavy, so you decided to get your panem et circenses out, just like roman impearoars did.

you got a cigarette out of your pack, and lit it up. neteyam smirked at you, actually realising you two hadn’t met at the beach in a long time.

you passed it to him, which made you immediately regret it.

seeing neteyam all bloody, patched and smoking was going to be the death of you. and he knew it.

you passed the cigarette between you two, not a word being spoken. you’d have to cleanse the whole place later since it was important to keep this pod clean, but you didn’t mind as long as you could spend time together. you just enjoyed eachother’s company, not having to worry in trying to engage in small talk, y’all were already beyond that step.

as he took the last breath, he pressed the cigarette against the floor, he spoke.

“would you like to talk a bit ?” he said, a soothing tone and a pair of eyes looking for yours. you lightly smiled and nodded.

“you start.” you said, looking at him. he stayed quiet for a few seconds, almost trying to recollect his thoughts. he though about the whole discourse he had in mind, and was so excited to tell you. so he just let his thought flow out of his mouth, no restrains.

“i’m sorry.”

you raised an eyebrow, a smirk appearing on your face. you had no idea of what he was asking forgiveness for.

“for beating ao’nung ?” you suggested.

“fuck no.” he quickly said, jokingly pushing you. you laughed.

“i’m sorry for making you feel that way. you know, the whole object situation…” he said awkwardly. your mouth dropped in an ‘o’ shape realising what he was talking about. the pod got quiet for a second, but he continued.

“i just want you to know, that i’ve never saw you, i don’t see you, and will never see you as an object. i’m not joking. you’re special ( y/n ). seriously. i feel disgusting thinking about how i treated you and made you feel.” he slowly grabbed your hand, catching your attention.

you ears slightly moving upwards, cheeks flushing with heat. he moved his thumb in circular motions, caressing you.

“i’ve never seen anyone as much as i see you. do you understand ? i see you, for fuck’s sake.” you gently gasped, eyes slightly lighting up, trying so hard to hide your smirk.

neteyam has never been good with words and admitting things, but just the fact that he said all of this to you means a lot. you wanted to hug him, and tell him that you forgive him, but is that what you really deserve ?

no, you’re gonna make him beg for it.

his hands rapidly circled your waist, raising you up to seat you on his lap. his hand now on your back holding you. you were so proud of yourself right now for not feeling the need to have this man’s tip in the back of your throat, because oh how attractive he was when he was vulnerable.

“please, please, please. forgive me.” he said. eyes lightly squinted, and oh so desperate. you could already feel heat pool in your cunt, your clit throbbing at any word of his.

“i might as well kill myself if i have to live with the thought that i made you feel bad and you never forgave me. we don’t have to get back together, i could never and will never force you, but only if that’s what you want. you have no idea of how much regret i felt after realising the impact that my words had on you.” he pleaded, you could feel his heart thudding rapidly against your chest. he sounded like he meant it.

would it be too bad to give him a chance ?

“oh really ?” “yes.” he said, without any hesitation.

your hand slowly reached his jaw caressing it, noticing a sparkle in neteyam’s eyes. you guided your head towards his neck, making him hold his breath, eyes flashing.

you lightly kissed his jaw, then his cheek, and then his mouth. he didn’t wait and didn’t fight back. you positioned another light kiss on his lips, feeling his arms roaming on your back.

“i forgive you.” you whispered, positioning your lips against his again hungrily . you felt him smile against your mouth, a hand on his neck deepening the kiss. just a few seconds after, a whine left his mouth, leaving you almost surprised. his cheeks flushed in embarrassment. you smiled, a grin plastered on your face as you slowly dived in the crook of his neck, kissing and biting everything you could.

a soft breath left his lips, still slightly parted. you grabbed his chin, leaving you more space to work on. as you left marks and kisses, he could feel a tent forming in his loincloth, and you being directly over it wasn’t helping. he contained himself from grinding against you, to try and get some friction. you harshly grabbed a piece of his hair, tugging on his scalp.

and that, plus the neck kissed couldn’t hold him from moaning. he had no idea how turned on you were right now. your slick started smearing his loincloth, but you weren’t ashamed one bit.

he bit his lip trying to contain all his sounds, but you untucked it.

“there’s no one here, let me hear every single noise you make. that’s how good boys get prizes.” you whispered, nibbling at his earlobe. he could feeling himself twitching at your ‘good boy’. there were a few times where neteyam played the sub role, but never in his life has he enjoyed it this much.

“are you a good boy, nete’ ?” you asked him, expecting an answer.

“fuck.” he whispered, shaking and whimpering. you suddenly stopped, as he gave you a questioning look. you felt his hands gripping your waist, the teasing getting to his head.

“i said…” you started, looking at him.

“are you a good boy nete’ ?” you finished, a tear threatening to leave neteyam’s eye. he nodded multiple times, trying to convince you to get back to what you were doing. “i need words.”

“yes, ( y/n ). please.” he said, almost sounding like a whisper. you could feel his precum staining your panties, your fluids mixing. his nails started to dig deep into your hip’s flesh.

“good boy.” you trailed your hand, carefully tracing all of his abs, getting a few whines out of him. there’s nothing in the world that neteyam loved more than edging.

getting edged, edging someone, he couldn’t give a fuck. the tension, the teasing, the desperation. he loved it all, seeing someone so close yet so far. not getting what he wants was such a turn on for him. feeling your cunt clench around his fingers desperately after stopping, just a second before your orgasm. seeing your juices flow uncontrollably after tracing back from your clit, his face between your thighs, legs shaking, feeling your thighs about to suffocate him, trying everything to get his face a bit more near your heat. your pussy holding his dick thigh when he pulls your hips down on him, him sliding in you, only to then not move and leave you there squelching and crying. oh he loved it.

he felt your fingers work on his loincloth, he reached out to help you. he suddenly got slapped away, his dick twitching and a gasp leaving his mouth. “hands off, if i see you moving again i will shut everything off.” you said, a serious expression on your face. how he wanted you to use him as your little toy. being that his only purpose.

his loincloth got discarded to somewhere in the room, a smirk on your face when his dick sprung up hitting his abdomen. he hissed at the feeling of cold air hitting his tip, a tear rolling down his cheek. he gripped the sheets, containing himself.

he watched you as your top fell off, leaving your plump tits on display for him, your nipples hard from the coldness of the room. his eyes widened, never getting tired of this show. he slowly guided his hand to his dick, stroking slowly and the grip tightening as he got close to his tip. his mind fogged up when you suddenly slapped him.

his face turned to the left, mouth parted. his grip loosened, his hands back on your waist. he got slapped once again, when you said to not move you weren’t kidding. his bottom lip trembled.

you got up, leaving him there, putting your top on. his heart fell, a guilty look on his face.

“since you can already do anything by yourself, i might as well not be here, right ‘teyam ? i thought you were my good boy ?” you said, making him even more guilty, absolutely loving the show he was putting on for you.

“i- ah! i am, i swear, please.” he crawled to you, wrapping himself over your thigh, he looked up at you. “promise ?” you said, teasing him. “yes, i promise, please- fuck, please.” he cried, heat flushing his cheeks from the embarrassment. he’s never been this desperate before for someone.

you placed him back where he was, getting your loincloth off, your juices already smearing your thighs. you sat on his dick, your folds hugging his shaft, getting a loud moan out of him. he squeezed his eyes shut, not daring to move.

“( y/n ), please, i’m begging you. i’ll do anything, but please.” he cried out, his dick painfully throbbing, his tip so sensitive.

“please, what ?” you asked. he bit his lower lip, ashamed to say anything. as i already said, neteyam has never been good with words, but in this game there no place for difficulties.

“please, fuck me.” he said, lowering his gaze, the sheets about to rip in his hand.

“if only everyone else could see how desperate you are. is this the mighty warrior, hm ?” you said, grabbing his braids, tugging at them, raising his head, as he sobbed. your gaze locked with his teary one, a bit of spit drooling. your degradation plus the hair pulling made him whimper like a little bitch, music to your ears.

“what do you want ? do you want me to fuck you while you moan like a dumb whore ?” you said, with the meanest voice possible, knowing all your mean words were running straight to his dick.

“y-yes.” he confirmed, crying in your hand. he felt embarrassed to admit it, but that's the only way he could've gotten what he wanted, or not. you smiled, grabbing his dick, his head immediately raising hitting the wall behind him. you gave it a few strokes, neteyam’s mouth wide open loud moans falling down.

you gently pushed his tip in your entrance, his abdomen contracting. he already felt so good, stretching you out. he widened his eyes, shocked when he felt you falling on his dick with a sharp fall. you were so tight hugging him, you could still feel him twitching inside of you, a few moans leaving your mouth. you just sat there feeling the full stretch enjoying every second. he got impatient needing you to move, or he’ll probably lose his mind.

“please- move.” he said, feeling his patience slowly thinning out more and more. you were playing with him.

“acting like a strong ass motherfucker only for you to stand below me and beg me like the great warrior you are. what would jake think about you ?” you smirked at him, laughing because you loved making fun of him in these situations, seeing him trying to lower his gaze because he can’t handle the shame but he couldn’t because you were still holding his hair. you tugged his hair once again, feeling him painfully twitch inside of you.

“shit- momma…” he said, his eyes panicking when he realised what he had just said, hiding his face in your hand. your eyebrows raised in a shocked expression, but also very satisfied.

“maybe i’m wrong. what would neytiri think of her son calling another woman mommy ? do you enjoy it ?” you said, making fun of him but he didn’t know you enjoy it much more than he did. your mom didn’t use to like you that muhc, what could anyone expect ?

he got tired but also was so so so turned on, you just were a mean slag, weren’t you ?

“yes ! now PLEASE.” he said grinding himself , slowly thrusting in you, your cheeks warming up.

you pressed his abs down, stopping him from doing anything.

“neteyam. if you do anything again, i am not kidding i will leave you here, in heat and in pain.” you threatened, his eyes widened, his heart thudding fast.

“no, no, no, no, no please fuck- okay ! please just do something.” he said, begging you to not leave him. you threatening him tho… that’s something he didn’t know he would like.

you slowly started thrusting, catching him off guard. he felt his orgasm bubble up in his stomach, leaving you to do all the work. you panted as you felt his tip kissing your cervix. you stabilised yourself on his shoulders, fastening your pace. he moaned and moaned, you made him see stars. the best part of the edging in his opinion, was feeling his orgasm hit him like a truck from all the teasing.

all the edging and teasing made him manage to not last a single second, spurting all of his thickness in you, painting your alls white. your thrusting was more than enough, but your degradation was on another level. he’s 100% sure he could come just from your words, that’s also something he would like to try. his heart threatened to jump out of his ribcage when he felt you not stopping, overstimulating him.

“no- ngh, ( y/n ) stop, enough !” he cried and mumbled, not daring to stop you because only Eywa knows what would happen. “you begged for it, now take it.” you said, not being able to hold off a moan.

he rolled his head, hitting the wall once against, his thighs tensing. he could feel his eyes hurting from how much they were rolled back. fuck, this was too much. a thin layer of sweat covering the both of you. you fucked him dumb, like there was no tomorrow. he loves you, he loves you, he loves you.

this was it, in this exact moment he decided you were going absolutely nowhere.

his mouth opened as a second orgasm hit him, the same time it hit you. you both moaned, riding out your highs, head in the clouds. he calmed himself down as he looked at you, a smile plastered on his face.

not only you fucked him, while he enjoyed everything but you two also talked, solving everything out. things weren’t going to be the exact same as before, but he wouldn’t mind working for it again for you.

you panted, him sliding out of you, your cunt smeared in juices, his cum falling down your legs. he guided his hand to your pussy, a thumb pushing his cum in you. you laughed at his gesture, as you hovered your hand over him, to help him get up. he grabbed it, and got up. you silently wore back all your loincloths, making sure everything was okay.

“want to go swim a bit and get all cleaned up ?” he said, waiting for your reply.

you smiled, realising how much he actually knew you.

“yea, sure.” he smirked at your try to sound like you didn’t care. he grabbed you, bridal style, you gasped when you couldn’t feel your feet on a surface anymore. your arm slithered around his neck, holding yourself on something. you walked out of the pod, noticing it wasn’t night yet. he walked a bit, trying to look for a good spot for the two of you. you were very picky on where you wanted to swim.

he noticed one, as you felt his walk getting faster, getting that he was not going to stop.

“neteyam ?” you questioned, as he suddenly started running towards the sea, gripping you tightly. your eyes flashed when the realisation hit you. “no, neteyam- stop !” you said, but it was too late as he jumped in the water, feeling it hug both of your bodies. you swam to the surface, breathing loudly. he resurfaced, and whipped his hair from side to side. you both laughed as you swam towards him, your legs hugging his waist, his hands reaching to hold you by your thighs, arching your back.

you heard him call his ilu, as it came towards him. you jumped on it, hugging neteyam’s back to hold yourself. he placed a hand on your thigh as you both swam. you laughed at his gesture. he’s his daddy’s son.

as the ilu swam faster, he could feel your hold getting more and more tight. you placed your cheek on his back, getting him all worked up and flustered. these were the kind of moments he never wanted to forget, if he were to die that day he would’ve died a happy man. with his mate, in the ocean, everything in place.

you felt him suddenly stop, reaching a part of the village that reminded him of the forest, his home. he thought it was the time that the two things that made him the most happy would finally meet. he got off the ilu, holding a hand for you to grab on. you helped yourself with it, smiling at him. an arm snaked your shoulders, him guiding you in the place.

you couldn’t stand the beauty of it. the variety of plants, the animals, the peacefulness. this was the kind of places that you loved, in that moment also thinking kiri would’ve gone crazy over a location like this. she missed the forest like crazy, but also did neteyam, and probably everyone else. you saddened at the thought of neteyam leaving his home and having to adapt t a whole new home and habitat. you held him tighter, making him raise and eyebrow and smile. he positioned his head on yours, as you both walked.

“i’m definitely faster than you know, i’ve been training.” you said catching his attention, teasing him.

“nah, you’re not.” he said non chalantly. “you’re a pussy.” you laughed at him, getting a flick of his finger on your forehead in return. “ow !” you complained, as you both laughed. he suddenly grabbed your hand, making you run with him, feeling exactly like in the forest. all the colours, couldn’t help but bring you nostalgia. the sky as clear as it could ever be. you both ran.

running deeply, running wild.

you laughed and joked as you jumped from a place to another, noticing you still were both good at it, even though you didn’t get the chance to do this often. your abilities weren’t much need in the metkayina clan, even though you two were the best in the omaticaya clan.

neteyam was smiling, until he heard a familiar sound making him immediately stop, his ears sprung up, a serious expression on his face as his smile dropped. you suddenly stopped running, noticing he also stopped. you were confused, when he motioned you to not move, only making you more confused.

“could you do me a favour ?” he said, looking at you, cupping your face in his hands, the most serious expression plastered on his face.

“yea sure, what is it ?” you asked curiously, waiting for his response.

“run.”

final notes : this is it for tonight y'all lmao, i'm going to sleep. bye !

tags : @xoxobabe @marcswife21 @rubysworld96 @klarolinefanatic @giftfromthemoon @k4tsukiis @neteyamsbbgfr @miapanticc @famousbagelhandspurse @astablacksword @ghoulfac3 @mashiromochi @avatarslut0 @chanyeolsbeloved @regulus-black-223048 @isabelcor3 @grierpilots @neteyamsmate4life @beyoenisbalfart @severenswife @bealone-prm @hafutoru @jyoungmom @soxfix @thatgoodvibescloud @aalyara @abbersreads @strawberryys-stuff @ilovestargirl @meivap @erenjaegerwifee @slutforavatar @athenachu @ghostjoohoney @tsamiaxo @arminsgfloll @hirokosoul @strawberryclouds22 @girlkissersco @spoonlord7 @fromthedeskofjoii @loverwonie @chrys018 @rea-zxv @taleiak @shartnart1 @lilprettypetite @dakotali @moeb11us @momfucker-nyct @irisskies @reialuvb @luvagirlsworld @ilikeblue-aliens @sullymenrhot @muthmergya @rosygodx @alana69s @sai-lia @dollyplayhouse

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allinthemagicshop · 7 months

Text

Not How I Wanted to Meet Your Parents

Bangchan X Fem!Reader

wc: ~3000

Angst, fluff at the end

Again, this makes me cringe a little bit looking back at it but also I think I see some potential to grow from this so here's yet another from my vault

No warnings that I can think of, besides pet names maybe? Insecurity, crying also present. Some cursing.

I do not own the rights to Stray Kids or anything related to them, this is a work of pure fiction and just for fun

Channie💕: hey babygirl, I’m so sorry. I have to stay late at the studio again. I’ll just go back to the dorm instead of waking you up so don’t wait up. I’m sorry.

I crumpled into myself. Texts like these have been coming daily for the last three weeks straight. Every single date night was canceled, always for the same reason. I can’t bring myself to think of it as an excuse. That would be he is trying to find ways to avoid me. Unless he finally realized that I’m just holding him back from creating more, creating better. Maybe I am just a pawn to find inspiration in, like a learning experience more than a loving one. I lay my phone down on the nightstand and glance over at the sweatshirt Chan left the last time he stayed the night. It’s been nearly two months since then, his scent long gone. Instead of replying, knowing I wouldn’t get a response, I leaned over and shut my lamp off. Maybe in my dreams he would love me again.

●●●

The morning light shines through the small crack in my curtains. I sit up, rubbing my eyes as I lean over to grab my phone. No new messages. My heart sinks. This is the part I was dreading the most. Never had Chan canceled a date night and not immediately tried to reschedule. So this is it then. Taking a shaky breath, I shut down my phone. It’s no better than a paperweight right now when all I’ll be doing is waiting for him to reach out first. It’s childish of me, I know I could reach out first, but that brings more brewing of hope that it isn’t over if he responds. Or worse yet, if he does respond and confirms that it’s over.

Letting my despair guide me, I shuffle towards the bathroom. Turning on the shower, I peel myself out of the clothes I wore to sleep in and step under the cold water. I don’t want warmth, that’s what he was. I just want to hide in the rain and gloom as these thoughts take over my body. It’s not like I can pack up and move out, we don’t share an apartment. Changing the code to my apartment is a possibility, but then I have to let all my friends know the new code and explain why it had to be changed. The only other option I can come up with is going back home for a few days. I moved to Seoul for school, but my family was back in the States. It’d give me the distance I need, and maybe some home cooked meals would heal the hole in my heart. I know Dad would pay for it, he’s been asking me to come home for a couple months now.

Taking a deep breath, I shut the water off and wrap a towel around me as I step out. Sighing, I walk back towards my bed and sit down at the edge. Bracing myself as I start my phone back up, I immediately call Dad as soon as it allows me to. “Hey! I know I’ve been delaying coming back home but I really miss you guys. I have the next two weeks off and was wondering if that would work for you and Mom?”

“Darling, anything works for our little girl to be back in our arms. Give me a second to look at flights. How long would you need to pack? We still have plenty of your clothes here, you know.” Laughing a little as I struggle to keep my composure, I glance around the room. “I can be ready to go as early as tonight then.”

“Really? There’s a flight that leaves at 5pm, your time. You’d have a couple hours to pack. Is that enough time?” His giddiness is almost palpable through the crackling speaker. A genuine snort forces its way out. “Sure, Dad. Thank you, I love you and I’ll see you soon then.” I stand up as he replies, “I love you so much, honey. Your mom is going to be so happy to have her baby back home for a while.” I hang up a little after a little more farewells are exchanged, insisting that I need to start packing. I make the mistake of glancing down at the screen before I get changed.

Channie💕: good morning, sweets. I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can attempt to reschedule. It’s so hectic here with the comeback so soon and the album not being near ready enough. We’ll talk soon

Dread coils my gut, nearly knocking me over. That’s two messages without the words I need most. With shaking fingers I finally respond back, Oh okay. I love you. I throw my phone on the bed and walk away towards the closet, changing quickly. I refuse to look at my phone again until I have a suitcase packed.

●●●

Almost two hours later, I finally find the courage to pick my phone back up. Checking the time, I notice two notifications: one text and one email. Unlocking the screen, my heart shatters. Both are from Dad. The email is the flight information, informing me that I have around an hour to get to the airport.

Father Dearest: y/n, I forwarded the email with all ur flight info. Oh, honey, I can’t explain how excited I am to have u home with us. If u haven’t finished packing yet, good luck. Love u!

Sighing as tears finally fall down my cheeks, I order an Uber to take me to the airport. I know I should text Chan, but I can’t bring myself to allow even the possibility of going unanswered again. I’ll let him know before the plane takes off, using the cushion of the flight to allow me the escape I’ll need.

An agonizing 20 minutes pass before I’m climbing into the Uber. I spare a glance up at my apartment as we pull away. A part of me hopes he’ll show up to find me gone before I can even text him. It’s selfish and petty, but I just want Chan to feel a part of the agony I’ve been feeling. A simple conversation might be able to solve all of this, but we haven’t been able to have a solid 5 minute conversation in the past month, let alone one long enough to require what needs to be said. He couldn’t even get time off for a quick phone call on our one-year anniversary last week. Tears are slipping down my face before I know it. I quickly rub my sleeves over my face, not wanting the driver to ask questions.

We finally pull up to the airport and I climb out, thanking him for the ride. I barely feel present in my body as I walk through the motions of the airport. Next thing I know, I’m sitting in my seat staring out the window. The announcement comes that phones need to be turned off soon. Taking a deep breath, I prepare the text for Chan.

Hi, Channie. I want to start off by saying I’m not mad, I completely understand. You’re an idol and I knew this was going to be difficult when I agreed to be your girlfriend. I guess I misjudged exactly how difficult it would actually be. I want to thank you for the last year. You were such a blessing in my life, crashing into me and claiming your spot in my heart. I don’t know if you feel the same, I can’t talk to you anymore to confirm or deny my suspicions. The distance between us recently has said more than we’ve been able to. I’ve decided to make it more physical for a little while. I’m headed back home for a couple weeks. I know the timezone difference is going to be hard to communicate, but we’ve gotten so used to it that it shouldn’t feel any different. If this is goodbye, all I ask is that you just remove your stuff from my apartment before I get back. I’m sorry I couldn’t be stronger. I do love you, Chan. I just miss you too much to keep this up.

I hit send just as we begin our take-off. Shutting my phone and my feelings off, I lay my head back and drift to sleep, keen on waking up only when I can step off the flight into my parents’ arms.

●●●

I didn’t last the whole flight, but the last few hours were filled with reading the book I had packed just in case sleep evaded me. It was enough to not think about Chan, but never enough to dull the ache in my chest. We finally landed and shuffled off the plane, all heading towards baggage claim. Refusing to turn my phone back on, I felt like a robot on autopilot as I followed the crowd. I grabbed my suitcase and squared my shoulders as I prepared to face my family. They knew about Chan and I’s relationship, but I don’t want this trip to be about my broken heart. I walk out the doors and it takes me only a minute of scanning before I hear my name being shouted seconds before Dad barrels into me, lifting me off my feet in a hug. Mom wraps her arms around me as he sets me down, tears falling down all our faces.

“Oh my baby! You’re finally home! I’ve missed you so much.” Mom sobs into my shoulder, holding me tighter than should be humanly possible. I hug her back before tapping her shoulder, in need of oxygen. She pulls back with a relieved smile. “I have your favorite dinners planned for the whole time you're here. How’s Chan?”

My own smile falters for a split second before I straighten myself out. “Oh, you know, he’s just busy with his comeback. I had plenty of time to myself to make an impromptu trip,” partially the truth, just not the whole story. I can work with that easier than an outright lie. I smile at both my parents as they nod in understanding, Dad grabbing my suitcase to put in the car while Mom pulls my hand to get us going. The ride home is full of small talk about how work is going, how school was this last semester, how they are enjoying Dad’s new bonus from work. I fall into a comfortable silence as they keep the conversation flowing between them.

●●●

After dinner I finally find the courage to turn my phone back on, it’s been nearly six hours since I landed. It’s early morning back in Seoul, close enough to a full day since I sent the text to Chan. As my phone turns on, I’m bombarded with notifications. Missed calls and texts, nearly all from Chan.

Channie💕: Baby what?

Channie💕: You didn’t actually leave did you?

*two miss calls from Channie💕*

Channie💕: Y/N please answer me. I can’t stand this, don’t leave me. I love you so much

Channie💕: I know I haven’t seen you in a bit or been able to talk to you but I don’t want to lose you

Channie💕: Baby please be at home, please let this be some cruel prank

Channie💕: You’re really not at home. Oh my god, baby please come back to me. I can’t lose you please don’t do this I love you

*four missed calls from Channie💕*

Channie💕: I get it. Baby, I understand it’s hard. I should’ve tried harder for you. You mean so much to me. I fell into my typical work pattern and left you out, I’m so so fucking sorry. You’re a priority too and I neglected that. I need you

Channie💕: you went back home… for fuck’s sake I screwed up. I just saw the date. Oh my god y/n im the worst. I didnt even take off for our anniversary. You were waiting for me to even acknowledge it and i couldnt even do that. I fucked up so bad

Channie💕: Babygirl… i feel like i cant even breathe right now, my heart’s been ripped out and flew across the world with you

*eight missed calls from Channie💕*

Channie💕: okay okay, I know this is getting excessive and I get that you’re on the plane but you should’ve landed by now. Just let me know that you’re alive.

Channie💕: My sweet girl, I will fix this. Fix us. I can’t imagine going through life without you in it.

Channie💕: I hope what I’m about to do doesn’t further break us, I love you so much, to the moon and stars beyond

The last text sent my heart into a stuttering stop. What did he mean by that first part? A wave of relief followed by anxiety floods my system. The last text was sent almost four hours ago. Tears welled in my eyes as I listened to the multiple voicemails he left. All practically the same as his texts, only I could hear the voice breaks and sobs between words. My heart cracked open and pain seeped through me.

Chris what are you doing? I understand that you’re busy, you don’t need to apologize, I’m the one who couldn’t handle it. We can talk when I get back, just focus on the album. Maybe with a longer time to plan we can sit and have a proper conversation. I still love you.

I chewed on my lower lip nervously as I waited for his response. After staring at the screen for nearly 30 minutes with no reply, I sighed as I assumed he just had to go back to work, blocking out the relationship that was sinking underwater. I quietly changed and crawled into bed. One last glance at my phone showed no new notifications. Tears flooded my face as I turned over in my childhood bed, resigned to sleep until the pain subsided.

●●●

I woke up to my mom shaking my shoulder. Blinking, I turned over to her, my face swollen from crying until I passed out. “Oh honey, I’m sorry to wake you up but there’s someone here to see you,” Mom bit down on her lips, like she was trying not to smile. I sat up and grabbed my phone, realizing that I’d slept for nearly 14 hours. “Okay, who is it?”

Mom shook her head and finally let the smile break free. “I think you should check for yourself, they said they’ve been wanting to see you for a while.” I cocked my head, confusion etched across my face. She just smiled brighter as she backed out of the room. “Just get dressed and I’ll send them up in a couple minutes. They’re finishing some tea up with your dad.” Tea? Dad doesn’t even like tea, he’s a die-hard coffee lover. Confusion still clouding my mind, I walked to my closet, ignoring the suitcase on the ground and threw on a sundress I had left here. I didn’t know who was waiting or how formal I had to be. I quickly threw my hair into a braid before checking my face in the mirror. The puffiness wouldn’t be able to go away in time, as I already heard rushed steps up the stairs. It finally dawned on me that whoever it was was being sent up to my room. Who would my parents have me meet in my room instead of downstairs with them?

As soon as the thought finished, my door was practically kicked open. I had less than 2 seconds to process who it was before arms were around me and squeezing me almost as hard as Mom had at the airport. Instantly the familiar scent hit my nose and I reeled back, surprise taking over the confusion and tears welling up faster than ever before.

“My sweet babygirl, you think I could handle two weeks with you in another country across the world after what I did?” Chan smiled as tears streaked down his face, clearly wary of my reaction. “I- fuck. I’m so sorry for everything,” he fell to his knees in front of me. “I didn’t expect to meet your family like this. Hell, your dad’s first impression of me was with tears streaming down my face and blubbering out what I did before I was even invited in,” Chan laughed at himself a little. “Of course, then I was immediately brought to the kitchen where he had me sit down and explain everything. I felt like such an idiot saying it all out loud. I wouldn’t have forgiven me if I was him. But then he said it wasn’t up to him, it’s your decision on if I should get kicked to the curb.” I stood in silence, staring down at him. He wrapped his arms around my legs, shaking from the sobs he was clearly holding back. “Baby, my y/n. I don’t even know where to begin. I screwed up so tremendously. The company couldn’t even stop me before I had booked a flight and had Bin race me to the airport. Felix called me a moron before I left,” at that he leaned back and rubbed the back of his neck.

“He’s not wrong.” I sunk down to my knees to be level with him. His eyes widened and tears still silently slid down his cheeks. I shook my head as I pulled him to me, finally hugging him back. “You’re a moron for coming here when you should be working on the album. But I don’t think I’ve ever loved you more. We can get through this. I just- it sounds so selfish- but I needed to truly see if you still wanted this. This was more than I ever expected.” I pulled back to look him in the eyes, bringing my hands to his cheeks to wipe the tears away. I leaned forward and connected our foreheads, breathing in his presence.

His words were barely a whisper as he breathed them into our shared space. “I thought I lost you. I swear on my career that I will change for you. You mean too much to me to watch you slip away again. I love you more than words can express. To the moon and stars beyond, my angel. Always.” I closed my eyes at his confession, breathing in the love he was giving back to me.

“How about we go back downstairs and reintroduce you to my parents. Since, you know, you’re meeting them now.” I giggled softly as he stiffened.

“Can we hold each other a little longer first? I look like a mess and it’s been long overdue to have you in my arms again.” I fully laughed at that. “Of course, love. You’re mine, they can wait to see the best version of you while I piece it back together for a bit.” He pulled away and stared at me. Without another word, he launched into a tackle, hugging me like he would never let go.

#skz x reader #stray kids #skz imagines #skz #skz angst #bang chan #bangchan skz #bangchan x reader #bangchan imagines

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taurusdaylight · 1 year

Text

seven days to say i love you

summary. you and jeno can't get enough of spending time together even when you are practically glued to each other's side at any given opportunity. but spending seven days a week for eternity with your favourite person doesn't sound like a bad idea, right?

pairing. college boyfriend! jeno x fem! reader

genre. hockey player! au, college! au, established relationship! au, friends to lovers! au, fluff

word count. 5,108

warnings/tags. none, this is 423% fluff <3 (but please let me know if i did miss out anything!)

a/n. (repost because there was an error... 😔) but hi!! i'm so sorry for the inactivity, i was so busy and couldn't put out my fics like i wanted to. but i'm back with a small something (my first non-jaehyun fic,,) i wrote this a while back and changed like 3/4 of it, and i hope it'll be a fun read!! i also came back to 2.8k notes on jaehyun bolton fic (is that what we're calling it now? yes.) i don’t reply to every comment/reblog/tag because by the time i see them it’s already so late, but i promise i read through and appreciate every single one of them,, thank you a million times!!!!!! i am working on more stuff now that i'm a little more free... so, as jaehyun likes to say, to be continued... :) hope everyone is well!

–

01 MONDAY.

The beginning of the week never failed to come to you in a dreadful manner, as if to make sure that you felt the full force of what most people like to call the Monday blues. Whoever was in charge of making sure that you would experience it, they certainly did not miss you out today as well.

Not that you enjoyed seeing other people suffer, but if there’s one thing that you’re grateful for, it’s the knowledge that you’re probably not the only one who feels this way. Though, the blaring sound of your alarm ringing at seven in the morning is too eerily similar to having someone have a personal vendetta against you, serving as a very unfriendly reminder that it is also the start of the school week. Perhaps, your disdain for Mondays could be attributed to this… but there’s always an exception, right?

Despite your reluctance to attend your morning lecture, you were somehow seated in the lecture theatre by nine, giving you more than enough time to lay out your laptop and the reading materials that you needed for the lesson before it started.

Your boyfriend, on the other hand, is quite the opposite. Often only going to sleep when the sun is about to rise, Lee Jeno has an unhealthy habit of pulling all-nighters, which causes him to miss his alarm because he’d be so deep in his sleep that he would only be able to hear it after the seventh alarm has gone off, which by then, was most likely the time that he needed to leave his house if he wanted to reach on time. The worst part of this is that he was up all night for the sole reason of wanting to break his record in his mobile games; and he plays so many that even you find it difficult to keep up too. Even when you nagged at him and said that you would complain to his mum, Jeno often dismissed your words as empty threats, still not breaking his bad habit. Reading his text message to you about how he was going to be late again, you could only let out a helpless sigh as you left his message on read.

Jeno announces his appearance by quietly opening the backdoor of the lecture theatre thirty minutes later. He makes his way over to his seat next to you, genuinely appreciating how even though sitting in front is better for your eyesight, you still opted to sit around the last few rows so that it’s easier for him to join the lecture when he comes in late without causing a loud disruption to your peers.

“Good morning, pretty,” Jeno bends down to whisper in your ear. Removing his crossbody bag, he leaves it in the empty space between you two. Once he settles down, Jeno slides a Venti-sized Hazelnut Latte from Starbucks over to your side of the desk. The rest of the lecture goes by quickly with you and Jeno making silly commentaries about anything and everything.

“Why did you still get me coffee?” you ask Jeno after the lecture had ended, a deep frown etched on your face. “You were already running late, Jeno. You really didn’t have to.” Being late was one thing, and making an additional stop at the café is another, especially because you knew that it was definitely not on the way.

“Just because,” Jeno replies with a loving smile. The kind of smile where his eyes would curve into beautiful crescents, his pupils almost disappearing because of how wide he is smiling at you. The kind of smile that you’d never get tired of seeing, so much so that you wordlessly lean in to give him a quick peck on the lips to say thank you.

Perhaps you like Mondays. Mondays with Jeno where you learnt that words left unspoken speak much more volume in expressing one’s heart.

02 TUESDAY.

It’s Tuesday, which means that you and Jeno have some spare time to meet up and study at the café near campus before his hockey practice starts. Study dates with Jeno are admittedly not as productive as you expect them to be, mainly because you often distract each other from getting any actual work done. Because of this, the both of you become public nuisances of some sort, so you had no choice but to study at a café instead of the quiet library. Imagine getting kicked out of the library… that would be an embarrassing sight.

“Jeno, how do you work out the answer to question five? I wasn’t paying attention when Prof taught this...” You look over at Jeno with a sheepish smile, earning a chuckle from him. He isn’t even surprised by your question, guessing that you probably spaced out or dozed off during the lesson.

Without saying a word, Jeno tucks a pencil behind his ear and grabs a piece of rough paper before getting up and shifting to the empty seat next to you, leaving you confused. As if he could read your mind, Jeno speaks again before you could question him. “So that it’ll be easier to explain it to you," he mumbles.

Ironically, the close proximity between the two of you only makes it harder for you to focus, but easier for you to admire his handsome features. Puckered lips, furrowed eyebrows and his gold rimmed glasses slipping down slightly to rest on his nose bridge–Jeno couldn’t look any cuter in this moment as you watch him diligently scribble on the piece of paper. He is seemingly deep in thought about how he should explain this concept to you. Watching how focused Jeno was, you took the chance to lean in, giving him a peck on the cheek before retreating back quickly, chin resting on your palm as your gaze lingers on him, slyly pretending that nothing happened.

“You broke my train of thought!” he grunted. Jeno puts his pencil down and turns to you with an annoyed expression on his face, but swiftly looks back down on the scribbled paper upon making eye contact with you.

It only dawns on him now that you were staring at him the entire time.

“Don’t do that, you’re distracting me.” His voice is quiet, eyes basically glued to that piece of paper.

“Sorry, I can’t help it. You’re so handsome and cute.” You pause, seeing a bashful smile appear on his face. “Did you know that a guy is the most attractive when he’s focused?”

“Do you still want my help or not?” Jeno asks with a grimace in his voice.

“Yes, yes, I do. I’m sorry,” you apologise with a small smile. It was difficult to resist the urge of calling him cute again, but you decide not to tease him any further for the sake of his sanity.

“Good. Now pay attention, I need to leave for training soon and if you still don’t get it by then... that’s on you.”

Jeno lied. Even after long hours of training, he still went on FaceTime that night to thoroughly explain the concepts that you were unfamiliar with, not minding that he was practically fighting for his life trying not to fall asleep on you.

That Tuesday night, you went to sleep with the widest grin on your face. Heart carrying so much love for your boyfriend who coincidentally asked you out for the first time ever on a Tuesday too.

03 WEDNESDAY.

Wednesday's child is full of woe. If there was a sentence that could explain how you feel about this particular day, this would be it. Mid-week crisis should be an actual thing if it wasn’t already one. Not only did Wednesday feel like the longest day of the week, you’d also feel extremely restless, wishing nothing more than for the weekends to come quickly.

Back-to-back seminars for six hours with only a short forty-five minute break in between had to be the most unappealing thing known to mankind, and you’d most certainly file a complaint if it was possible. Then again, this is perhaps part of the university experience.

However, this still isn’t the most devastating part. What truly makes this a tragedy for you is that Jeno isn't there to accompany you through it all due to conflicting timetables. He also had training again, this time outside of school, which meant that he’d only be free after that.

You’re so used to being around Jeno all the time that you can’t seem to spend even the littlest amount of time away from him even though you pretty much see him almost every day of the week. Talk about being clingy.

The feeling’s mutual for Jeno though. Just like you, he seems to hate the idea of not being by your side too, evident from the numerous messages he sends throughout the day despite knowing that your replies would take longer than usual to come in.

You’re not complaining. Because in one way or another, you feel like that’s his way of being by your side, albeit not physically. It is his text messages of checking up on you and ensuring that you didn’t skip your meals that make this unbearable day a little more bearable. Most of all, you look forward to being on FaceTime with him at night, having him all to yourself after such a long day.

Jeno usually ends training at seven-thirty in the evening, but sometimes it could overrun till eight. Thereafter, he still has to travel home for an hour or so, get dinner and wash up. He hides this from you, but very often he attempts to rush home because he doesn’t want you to stay up too late waiting for him, and because he wants to talk after an entire day of not seeing you.

Jeno makes sure to call before eleven, always starting the conversation by telling you how much he misses you, as if he didn’t already tell you that through text. He goes on to ramble about his day, how he saw the time match the digits of your birthdate and it made him think of you, not forgetting to also ask you how did your day go. Not long after, you’d notice his breaths becoming louder, his speech slightly slurred, and that’s when you know that he’s going to fall asleep soon. Even so, you don’t say anything, simply watching him slowly fall into a deep slumber.

“Good night Jeno,” you whisper softly, careful not to wake him up and taking one last look at how peaceful he looks before ending the call.

04 THURSDAY.

Due to how busy the both of you were, you are grateful for the small gap that Jeno has between classes and practices, just so that you’d still be able to see his face. Once it's about time for him to leave, you get ready to say goodbye to Jeno with a warm hug , when he suddenly stops you by placing his hand over yours.

“Do you want to watch me train?” he asks. “You can say no. But I just thought we could get dinner after so we can spend a little more time together,” Jeno adds, his thumb rubbing small circles against your knuckle. An air of expectancy fills the small booth that the both of you occupy in the reading room as he awaits your answer.

“I’d love to, Jen.” Flipping his hand over so that you could intertwine your fingers together, you jokingly rush Jeno to pack up his things, telling him how excited you are to finally sit in and watch him train for the first time ever. You’ve only ever heard funny anecdotes of his teammates from him every once in a while, and you’re beyond elated to finally meet the people who bring so much joy into his life.

On the way to the hockey rink, you ask Jeno more about the sport and various positions. You weren’t a sports person but thought that it’d be a good time to know more about it, especially because of Jeno’s immense passion towards hockey.

“So what position do you play?” you glance over at him with curious eyes.

“Centre,” he says, a sense of pride in his voice. Before you could ask him what that position entails, Jeno beats you to it with a rather cheeky explanation. “You just need to know that it’s called centre because I’m supposed to be the centre of your attention.”

True to his words, Jeno remains as the centre of your attention for the entire duration. You’d never admit this to him, but he becomes even more charming than he already is when he’s on the rink. Especially during the friendly match that his team had with a neighbouring school towards the end of practice, his entire demeanour changed so much that you’d think that you were watching an entirely different person.

The way Jeno plays is extremely captivating to watch. You’re not sure how he does it, but you can see him mentally strategizing his next move as the clock ticks. Even down to the last minute of the match, Jeno had not let his guard down, the fire in his eyes so prominent that anyone could see that he was determined to end this with a bang.

Skating across the rink, Jeno moves at the speed of light, making it hard for his opponents to catch him. He is the ace of the team after all, so it wouldn’t be that easy to mess with him. His eyes follow the puck, set on scoring yet another goal despite their favourable lead. The opponents are in full defence mode too, though it wouldn’t make much of a difference since there's too short of a duration left for them to catch up. Speedily, Jeno intercepts the puck from the opposing team, skating away at high speed, still vigilantly guarding the puck with his stick. With the help of his teammates who effectively block the opponent from getting to Jeno, he manages to catch both your eyes and heart in that moment, making you hold your breath in anticipation as he skilfully shoots the puck into the goal at the very last second.

In the matter of a few minutes, Jeno returns to his usual self, smiling widely and cheering loudly with his teammates to celebrate their victory. And of course, he turns to look at you, giving you a smile that holds some semblance of shyness. It’s fascinating to watch how different he is on and off the rink, but it also reminds you how in love you are with the many sides of him; those you have seen and those that you have yet to uncover.

As promised, Jeno takes you to the burger joint down the alley near your university afterwards. During dinner, he still reenacts the funny incidents that happened during training even though you were present when they occurred. Though, this sweet gesture admittedly warms your heart because it makes you feel even more included in his life, as though he is gradually inviting you to be a part of his world, just as you do the same when talking about your interests and hobbies with him.

Time seems to slow down whenever you’re with him but that’s okay because time is merely a social construct. What matters is that you get to spend time with Jeno, who is now walking you home. With his hand in yours, Jeno slows down his footsteps to match your pace. The atmosphere is filled with shared laughter, along with Sweet Nothing softly playing through Jeno’s airpods, both of you taking one side each. It would have been wired earphones, but a certain someone claims that it gets in the way… of what, he refuses to elaborate.

It is also a homely moment like this that makes the both of you wish that time could slow down even more as you basked in each other’s comforting presence, sharing the same sentiment of hoping that the walk to your house will last a little longer. Anything to prolong the time that you spend with each other, right?

05 FRIDAY.

Friday may be your favourite day of the week because it is when Jeno is finally free after three consecutive days of training. It is also movie night, where you and Jeno would take turns to go over to each other’s place every Friday evening.

It was a few weeks into freshman year, when the two of you made this pact after discovering that you were neighbours. How is it possible that you’ve never noticed Jeno before anyway?

Funny enough, it all began with you telling your mum that you made a new friend in college who goes by the name of Jeno. That name clearly rang a bell, prompting her to start narrating her grocery adventures with Jeno’s mother, excitedly telling you how close they were. In her words, “Jeno is a really sweet boy, I’ve been dying to introduce you to him but it slipped my mind so many times!” Gushing about the said boy, she hurried you to invite his family over for dinner, rushing into the kitchen herself to whip a meal up in no time.

The awkwardness of the dinner was enough to kill you from the inside, to say the least. Mothers being mothers, you had to admit that you were amazed at their ability to jump from topic to topic in the span of a few minutes. Together with Jeno’s and your father laughing, they also joined in the conversation from time to time. Meanwhile, you and Jeno sat in silence side by side, and spoke only when necessary.

“I don’t mean to be rude, but can we excuse ourselves? It’s my first time at your house and I was wondering if ____ could show me around.” Jeno asked, giving your mum a polite smile as he glanced sideways at you momentarily.

“Of course! The two of you should get to know each other better. Ah, young lo–”

You cleared your throat, preventing your mum from completing her sentence. “Friendship,” she corrected herself.

Believe it or not, you had no idea how dramatic of a person she was up until this moment, or maybe it’s because there was something about Jeno that reeled in her overflowing sense of, you’re guessing, motherly love? That would also explain why the old ladies at the school cafeteria were so nice to Jeno, constantly giving him extra servings. You didn’t know what to think of Jeno’s suggestion since you’ve only known him for a few weeks, and being alone with him couldn’t be any better after having such an awkward dinner. At that time, however, it seemed like it was the next best alternative that you had.

“Let’s go.” You stood up abruptly to disrupt the conversation so that the adults (specifically, your mum) would not have an opportunity to say anything else to make the atmosphere any weirder than it already was. Jeno trailed behind you like a lost puppy, quickly following you upstairs to your room.

“I’m so sorry, my mum doesn’t think before she speaks sometimes. I hope you don’t mind what she said.” You broke the silence, not knowing where this conversation was going exactly, suddenly regretting speaking at all. You took a quick look at Jeno, who was now leaning against the doorframe, standing quite a distance away from the edge of your bed where you were sitting.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said with a soft smile while shaking his head lightly.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” you asked, the smile on his face now replaced with a frown as he gave you a quizzical look.

“You’re still leaning against the door?” you asked again, even though it was meant to be more of a statement rather than a question.

Jeno bursted out laughing, “I thought I was making you uncomfortable!” He raised his hand to rub the nape of his neck. He moved away from the door to sit next to you, still leaving a small space between you two.

“Want to watch The Lion King?” you suggested, mindlessly browsing through Disney Plus.

“Are you kidding me?”

You creased your eyebrows in confusion. “No... why?”

“I love Lion King!” Jeno said a little too enthusiastically, his eyes widening at how there were so many movies in the world, yet you somehow suggested watching his favourite Disney movie.

With the awkward tension in the atmosphere finally gone, you and Jeno made yourselves comfortable on your bed. Unknowingly, the both of you scooted closer to each other’s side as the movie played. By the time the credits scene started to roll, the both of you were already fast asleep, your legs tangled with each other’s under the sheets.

And as most people would like to say, the rest is history.

However, Fridays weren’t just reserved for movie nights. Soon enough, Friday nights also turned into sleepover nights, which meant that other than your usual movie marathons, you and Jeno end up doing other things too.

Like now, the two of you just ended a karaoke singing session that you would most probably never have again. It was far too loud in the night for your neighbour’s liking, causing them to lodge a complaint, making you and Jeno permanently cross that out of your sleepover activities.

Jeno comes up with a better idea of setting up a cosy outdoor blanket fort in your backyard to lay on. The sense of tranquillity is like no other, you and Jeno having a heart-to-heart talk in hushed whispers with crickets chirping in the background.

In the end, you fall asleep first, feeling burnt out from the entire school week. Although Jeno knows that you’re already asleep, he still makes sure to pat your head lightly, pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead. “Good night angel,” he breathes, wrapping his arms around your waist before drifting to sleep.

06 SATURDAY.

Saturdays are without a doubt, the most exciting for you. As a matter of fact, dating Jeno is a thrill in itself; but what makes Saturdays exceptional is Jeno taking you out on proper dates.

You and Jeno have been together for slightly over three years now, yet every date always feels like the first. The butterflies in your stomach? They never go away.

Initially, going on a date with Jeno seemed to be nerve-wracking to you because he’d always bring you somewhere new. Naturally, you thought it was the suspense of not knowing what he planned that made you feel this way.

Deep down, however, you knew that you simply felt this way because it was… Jeno.

“Why don’t I have anything to wear?” you shout in exasperation to no one in particular as you rummage through the closet to find a perfect outfit for your date. It feels like Jeno has already seen you in everything that you own, and you’re this close to going on Pinterest for outfit ideas.

That is, until you hear a text notification sound from your phone. It was a text message from Jeno informing you that he's coming over in five minutes. You give up searching, hastily picking out a white turtleneck, layering an autumn brown velvet overall over it.

“You look pretty today.” This is the first thing that Jeno says to you when you open the door, once again leaning against the door frame with a mellow smile on his face. You can feel the heat rushing to your cheeks because of his compliment.

And there it is again, the butterflies. Lee Jeno looking as flawless as he could be, a cosmic latte dress shirt tucked with a pair of black pants along with a brown leather jacket draped over his shoulders, coincidentally matching your outfit. To top it off, he’s wearing a beret today too, suddenly making him look cuter. It’s as if he travelled back in time, turning into your Victorian boyfriend.

“But... why are you dressed like this?” Jeno asks, rudely interrupting your staring session.

“Why? Is there something wrong with my outfit?” you were perplexed by his sudden question. Did he not like it? Should you change out of it? He said you looked pretty though. Besides, what else were you going to wear? You stare intently at Jeno, anxious about what he's going to say next. You hope it isn’t something bad.

“I thought I told you we were going cycling...” He stops mid-sentence, brows raised as he purposefully gives you a once-over again.

The tension in your shoulders disappears upon hearing his words. You roll your eyes at him, pushing his right shoulder lightly. “You’re going to ride a bicycle in a leather jacket?”

“Nevermind, please pretend I never said that.” Jeno makes a sulky expression upon realising that he did not plan out his joke well. But he is also quick to shoot you an endearing smile. “I love your outfit, baby.”

“You’re so lucky you’re cute, Lee Jeno.” And that I love you.

Thank goodness though, you were definitely not prepared to make another mess out of your wardrobe to search for another outfit when you’ve painstakingly organised it ten minutes ago.

In many ways, dates with Jeno always feel like the first. A simple thing, like the slight brush of your shoulders against each other as you’re walking down a random shopping street was sufficient to send your heart racing. Jeno’s hesitation to hold your hand in a crowded amusement park even though he really wants to, but he doesn’t know when is the right time to grab it–you can feel it, he fumbles with his fingers, reaches out every now and then, but pulls back immediately when his fingers accidentally meet yours.

And the memory of today that you can’t seem to forget. It’s spring, so Jeno thought that it’s a perfect time to bring you to a flower field located at the outskirts of the city. He’d once seen you looking at pictures of it on Instagram, making a mental note about it before he went home to do more research that night.

It wasn’t an uncommon thing for Jeno to take pictures of you, but when the both of you arrived, he didn’t stop at all, you swear he probably has a thousand pictures of you just from today.

However, what surprised you more was that when you asked Jeno to pose in front of the daisy fields, he happily did, even though there was still a hint of shyness within him since he wasn’t exactly comfortable with being photographed at times. He even went as far as to ask the other visitors to help take pictures of the both of you together, which was something you usually did. It wasn’t something extravagant, but it sure was endearing, and you’re positive that discovering a new side of Jeno made you giddy. So giddy that you never knew how it was possible for your heart to be swelling with so much love for another person.

Just like how daisies symbolise new beginnings, you hope that it's the same for you and Jeno’s story too. To not have endings, but only new beginnings.

07 SUNDAY.

Being certified homebodies, you and Jeno wholeheartedly enjoy staying in. It is also perhaps an excuse for the both of you to cuddle and nap together. You’d think that by the end of the week, you’ll be tired of seeing Jeno’s face for the seventh time. You joke that you are, but in reality, you could never bring yourself to grow tired of being together with your favourite person.

You usually go over to Jeno’s house in the afternoon, which is the ideal time to take a nap. Sometimes, you prayed that it would rain, so that you’ll have an excuse to steal one of his hoodies. Even so, he lets you take them as and when you want to. What is he supposed to do, say no? Of course not.

Napping wasn’t supposed to be your favourite hobby, but if it meant that you could enjoy the warmth and comfort of being in Jeno’s embrace, then clearly, any other hobby in the world couldn’t possibly compare to it. Like a baby, you snuggle close to rest your head on Jeno’s chest, putting your arms around his neck, taking in his soft cotton scent. The faint sound of his heartbeat and gentle breathing lulls you to sleep, it is very much like a lullaby on its own.

The best feeling in the world is to wake up the same way you fell asleep–still in Jeno’s arms. Not wanting to awake him, you slowly loosen your arms from his neck. Carefully, you brush his hair to the side, getting a clearer view of his face as you tenderly caress the mole below his eye, and then his cheek. He has pretty eyelashes, you’ve come to notice.

“Jeno,” you call out softly, in hopes of waking him up, but not wanting to be too loud at the same time. You wanted to let him continue sleeping, but the sky is already dark.

“Jeno, it’s time to wake up,” you try again. The clock on his side table reads half past six in the evening, indicating that it is almost dinnertime. His eyes were still shut, but he let out a groggy sound to let you know that he was awake, mumbling something shortly after. You didn’t quite catch it, but you think that he asked you to let him sleep for another five minutes. Typical Jeno.

“But it’s time for dinner,” you try to sit up, only causing Jeno to hug your waist tighter. You could barely move an inch with the way he was holding you.

“Just five minutes.” You let out a sigh, giving in to him.

“Jeno?”

He hums in response, which you take as a cue to ask your question. “Would you still love me if I were a worm?”

His eyelids finally flutter open, sleep still evident in his eyes. He appears to be in deep thought about your question before he answers. “Yeah. I’d still love you.”

“Hmm…” You narrow your eyes at him. “That took you a while to answer.”

“I just woke up,” he retorts.

“Fine.” You close your eyes and move closer to Jeno’s body, enjoying how he feels like your personal human pillow.

“Okay but what if there were other cuter worms? Like if I weren’t your ideal worm girlfriend, would you still date me?”

“Baby…”

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