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st4rbe0m · 1 month

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PAIRING ▸ Nishimura Riki x fem!reader

SUMMARY ▸"Am I dating Y/N L/N? No thanks, I'd rather choke." Or in which you're clearly using some sort of spell to entice Riki, because why on earth would he suddenly start feeling this way about you?

GENRE ▸one-sided enemies to lovers, highschool au, she fell first but he fell harder, angst (lots of it), slow-ish burn.

WARNINGS ▸ swearing, featuring Eunchae from LeSserafim as your best friend and some additional cameos by other idols, some of dickish behaviour from Riki at the start :(, kissing, mentions of curses, occults knowledge, spells and witchcraft.

WC ▸ 7.1K

A/N ▸ Thank you for the immense support for this on the teaser!! I hope this lives up to your expectations, and I hope you guys enjoy the rest of my work as well :)

PLAYLIST ▸ Voodoo Doll by 5 Seconds of Summer, Kiss Me Kiss Me by 5 Seconds of Summer, Brought the Heat Back by Enhypen, Stockholm Syndrome by One Direction

masterlist

The air is a sweet smelling summer type, the day you first meet Nishimura Riki. He's a scrawny little thing of twig arms and downcast, shy eyes. Having moved to Korea from Japan only barely a month back, the number of words he can say in this newfound land in the foreign language can be counted on one hand. And this poses a problem to him right now, considering how his older sister had already gone off on her own despite their mother's strict orders to stay together at all times. You spot the boy, a sprightly little thing yourself, and the first thing you notice is his eyes. The most gorgeous, mesmerizing eyes. They looked like the black beetles you saw in the spring - lazing on the dark brown tree trunks, absolutely fascinating and captivating.

Nishimura Riki is six years old and scared. He's at a playground with kids his age, but he feels like an alien in his own skin. They're all either playing in groups or duos - but no dice for singles. It's times like this that makes him want to clutch on to the fabric of his mother's dress and be whisked away to safety. A place where he doesn't feel so out of place. His soft, trembling body stills in a bit of surprise as a gentle tap knocks on his shoulder, ever so slightly. Turning around fearful of being picked on, he only comes face to face with a girl. You're looking straight at him with owlish, unblinking eyes that make Riki shiver in your gaze - feeling smaller and smaller than before. He doesn't like how you're looking at him, not in the slightest. "Hi there! I'm Y/N L/N. Are you new here?" You're quite articulate for a kid, he thinks, as if he's not one himself. He's barely managed to string together the meaning of what you said through his broken understanding of the language, but it's the general environment about you that makes him hesitate. His lack of a response doesn't deter you apparently, as suddenly you're latching on to his wrist, trying to pull him to the sand pit, babbling on and on about being his new friend and offering to show him around town. He doesn't know how to get out of your vice-like grip, but he doesn't mind your company either. But it's just all too much. There's too many things going on around him, and you're too loud.

Suddenly, he's wrenching his hand out of yours, a scowl on his youthful features. It's a frown directed right at you like a bullet, but it leaves you unscathed. You still look at him with a complete look of innocence, completely boring into his own eyes. There's something about the way you look at him, and he hates it. He notices the way you hold no precise expression on your face, only a peaceful and serene look coupled with the way one would gaze when they felt curious and fascinated. He decides at that moment, with all the iron resolve of a six year old boy, that he hated this girl. He hated you and he wanted absolutely nothing to do with you.

But this was in no way similar to the way you were feeling currently. With the way that inky void in his eyes were pulling you in like a siren song, you decided that you loved Nishimura Riki.

11 years later

"Riki! Riki!". Your chants are loud even amongst the bustling crowd of attendees, all mingling about on the bleachers, eyes trained on the orange basketball as the squeaking sound of shoes against the polished wooden floor accentuated the tension of this cut-throat game. Jersey number 9, tallest on the team and jet black hair that had everyone reeling in his subtle aura, Riki's eyes are piercing as his focus solely stays on two things - the first being how to get past the rival team's defense, and the second being how annoying your cheering was to him.

Their opposing team is not letting them cut through this bottle neck tie easily, and the red timer with its robotic, digital numbers clocking down to the game's end was not really helping either. It was right now, or never. And Riki never let a game get to the tie-breaker, ever. He's quick and sharp witted, and he's got the athletic skill to get past the crowding defense team, and with a crisp swish of the white net hanging on the post, the ball is swiftly sent through the basket. The whistle is loud, but the rest of his teammates are louder, wasting no time in running on the court to aggressively smother their prodigal player in affection and sweat, with Riki glaring away at them in faux irritation, but clearly preening in their pride. This was an important game after all, because it would be the game that would help team captain, Lee Heesung, who was graduating this spring, to choose the next in line to his legacy. And anyone with two eyes, who wasn't even on the team could easily say it belonged to Riki.

Your voice is back, louder again this time, and it has Riki grimacing amongst the celebrations, and Sunoo and Taki, his friends who had descended from the stands themselves, gave each other a knowing look of what was about to occur.

You're singing praises and it has him glowing, regardless of the frown marrying his sharp features. "God, that was so cool! You're so, so tall, it must have been an advantage for sure, but wow I mean that basket? Crazy!"

He's still glaring at you and his teammates have wry smiles on their faces. Your praises quieten down when you, and Riki, notice Lee Heesung walking over to Riki with a championing grin that only means one thing. Ushering Riki away, you just gazed at him at raw adoration as the boy's face lit up with the news Heesung was breaking him.

"By the way dude, are you dating that girl there? Y/N L/N?"

The question has him coughing slightly from the water he was chugging down. Sunoo and Taki are cackling violently at his expression, like Heesung had performed the most blasphemous act in front of him. "Heesung, what the hell dude. I'm not dating her, at all. I'll only date Y/N when pigs start flying."

He looks back to where you stood before, now gone from that spot. You always waited a bit before you left, usually, trying to catch him and make conversation with him, so this was new. A different kind of feeling he wasn't sure he was used to. It was strange, how he felt a bit different from the absence of you.

"Look, oh my god!" Taki cries out, pointing vaguely at the air. "What?" "I just saw a pig fly." “Shut the fuck up man.”

You were a curse sent from hell to torment him, that much was sure. He wasn’t sure what penance he was due to pay in this life for his previous actions that caused you to appear in his life, considering how since that moment on the playground, you’ve done nothing to actually make his life any better. And while he was explaining this very situation to Heesung, who was now sporting an amused grin at the way the normally nonchalant Riki’s mouth seemed to fly a mile a minute, Sunoo interrupted with a gasp at a particularly harsh tease. “She isn’t even doing anything bad you prick! I’d kill to have someone crush on me that long!”

“Oh you can have her then, Sun. I do not want to see her in my life ever again once we’re out of here.” He huffs.

The various examples of the ways you’d managed to make things bad for him seemed to resurface to his mind almost immediately, souring his mood. Like when in middle school, when he bagged the hottest girl of their grade, Choi Ri-ah, to go out with him. It was magical to Riki, that eighth grade relationship - mainly because him being in it meant having you off his back. Your displeasure with his newfound relationship status was not a secret either, no your distaste was very clear, with the way you’d frown when they would walk in the hallways together holding hands, which in eighth grade, was a very big deal. It didn’t help that Ri-ah was also your quote unquote, sworn enemy. The two of you had hated each other's guts since almost preschool, and the sickening punch in the stomach was how she’d managed to be with the only guy you’d ever loved. But Riki didn’t know any of that. And frankly, he didn’t care much about his and Ri-ah’s conversations or dates, where he would nod along as she talked his ears off about getting new earrings or the summer holiday her father was planning, where she was going to get the most outrageous tan. Sure, he liked her. But he liked not hearing your voice constantly bugging him more.

“Dude she didn’t end your relationship with Ri-ah! Ri-ah was already going after another guy from that prep school, she just needed an excuse to end the relationship and made Y/N the scapegoat.” Taki told him exasperatedly, which just fell on deaf ears, because Riki was still convinced that you were the reason for the demise of his juvenile dating plan. Ri-ah had broken up with him seemingly out of the blue, over text, claiming that she felt uncomfortable dating a boy who was so coveted by another girl. And when fourteen year old Riki read that heartbreaking message curled up in his duvet at 10PM on a Tuesday, he just felt a bitter pill of hatred for you. Nothing had changed in the six years since that fateful meeting at the playground, no. You still made Riki shudder.

“I hate Y/N L/N. I wish she just left my life, because she’s what makes it worse.”

“He’s absolutely phenomenal.” You breathe out in a sigh, full of awe as you watch Riki skirt across the court with lightning speed. The dreamy looks and the lovestruck sounds was like routine to Eunchae, who had honestly even given up on rolling her eyes at you, because with the way she’d spent the last 10 years doing the same, she was afraid her eyes would get stuck at the back of the skull due to routine. It was truly a wonder how you hadn’t given up immediately after the first few tries - when he was extremely stubborn in denouncing the “Y/N’s boyfriend” title he’d earned. But you had your justification ready to go - that he never outright rejected you. Sure, he politely declined some invitations, but never a word against your feelings as such. It still raised the question, as to how you could chase a guy around this long. Because to you, the reason was quite fundamental - his eyes were still beautiful, and most importantly, they held no hate. Not an ounce of it, no matter how hard he tried to emulate it, which gave you hope.

Unfortunately hope was a wonderful thing for sure, but also dangerous. It was quite the cycle you’d found yourself stuck in, and you weren’t honestly sure how long you could afford to linger as nothing but a mandatory footnote to him. It was eating away at you. But hope, hope made you hold on.

Only Eunchae knew about the firm decision you’d taken last night. After all, she was your closest friend. And she even held you, as you solemnly promised to yourself, on the eve of the 11th anniversary of the day you first met Riki, to leave him behind forever, if there wasn’t any improvement in his behavior, or general perception of you. It was shocking, and honestly a huge decision. But firm in its promise, that last hook of hope would be gone soon by tomorrow.

“You know he ignored you again, right?” Eunchae points out for the nth time, and like always that doesn’t deter you, as you gaze lovingly upon where the soon-to-be former captain Heesung was talking to Riki about leading the team, a position quite coveted which you were very proud of Riki for acquiring. The pride that swelled in your heart was immense, but the cold words you heard Riki utter were like a small pin-prick on your heart. He was tense from the game, and let’s be honest, you’d always managed to survive the weight of his brash words. But why did this one hurt so much? Were you reaching your breaking point, finally? No wonder you’d tipped and already decided to get over him last night.

Snapping yourself out of these negative emotions, you decided to busy yourself a bit away from the bleachers and Heesung and Riki, focusing on Eunchae as she tried to decide where to grab a snack before you both went off to your own houses.

“I hate Y/N L/N. I wish she just left my life, because she’s what makes it worse.”

The sound of his voice has always been melodious to you. It had a deep timbre and was almost soothing. But right now, you felt anything far from soothed. Your throat was closing up into a lump, and you huffed slightly as you blinked away tears. Eunchae’s eyes were blown wide in shock, and were slowly beginning to narrow in anger. Your movements were almost automatic as your hand reached out to stop Eunchae from storming out from your hiding spots’, the fuming girl looking like she was ready to punch Nishimura across the face immediately. The tears were burning into your lower lash line like furious embarrassment, making you more and more smaller, wishing now more than ever that the ground swallowed you whole. You kept telling yourself over and over again, that this wasn’t the first time you’d heard words of this type uttered against you by him. But it was like a disenchanting spell on you, the way a veil lifted off your eyes. A crack in the rose tinted looking-glass you always stared at him through.

“Y/N”, Eunchae’s voice is a careful whisper, sensing your vulnerability as your best friend. She knew you long enough to tell that those extremely cruel, mean words did more than just a regular rebound on your thick skin. She was cooling down in an attempt to comfort you, rubbing your arm in support. Your lower lip was wobbling, and you felt like someone had slapped you hard across the cheek. You weren’t that annoying to put up with, were you?

Your heart felt stomped on at that point, and you wanted nothing more than to get away. As shocking as it was, you couldn’t stomach being around Riki right now, and hastily grabbing Eunchae and making a beeline towards the exit, your downtrodden expression morphed to anger as your shoulder harshly bumped against Riki’s, who’s expression you couldn’t tell with the way you could only see red. Your decision was ironclad now, if it wasn’t firm already. This was the moment you’d decided to get over Nishimura Riki.

The touch of your shoulder against his was like a static current being passed through his skin, in the most pleasant way possible. Like he craved it. Riki was baffled, and even more so when he realized it was you, and your usually ever-present adoration from him being blatantly missing, even in this short interaction, if it even be called that. He felt a twinge of concern for you, which he suppressed easily. This was the Y/N he was talking about. Any emotion for you rather than disgust? No thank you!

However, it was strange. For the first time in your life, you felt almost nothing for Nishimura Riki. And for the first time in his life, he felt something for you.

It’s been a week since the fateful basketball game. You’ve been through the stages of grief quite quickly, storming through each of them with Eunchae helping you along, although your headstrong need to get better did worry her, that you weren’t actually processing your pain to heal. But to hell with all that. No, you wanted to eviscerate any remaining thought of Riki from your head immediately. The school day seems to be quite regular, with spring break just a mere two weeks away, that had people buzzing with low energy in the hallways, all in the state of deciding their spring break plans. Your spring break plans weren’t anything fancy, or anything at all rather - with the main idea being that you’d while away the time with your best friend, doing all the fun activities you could possibly do. And a break that you were sure would be the final nail in the coffin that contained the corpse of your feelings for Riki, the dark haired boy who up till now kept an iron grip on your heart.

The boy in question, like you, had also spent the previous week raging through some emotions. But in his case, rather he found them very confusing and very out of character. Of course, he wasn’t self actualised enough to work through them, and that led him to create a stubborn mindspace - that you, Y/N L/N were messing with his head by purposely ignoring him. He just couldn’t stop thinking about you, your presence and the recent lack of. Your voice wasn’t greeting him in the homeroom every morning anymore, and it was a change many had noticed, but not yet commented on. He found this pit in his stomach from the first week, the immediate day after the match, when he saw you sitting in class - head bent, hair falling over your face messily. And for a fleeting second, his hand had to fight off the urge to get up and brush them away. Your eyes looked slightly swollen, with a faint bloodshot look, like you’d spent the night crying rather than sleeping. It made his chest ache and his head spin slightly. What the hell? When the hell did he feel sorry for Y/N L/N? When the hell did he feel anything for Y/N L/N?

That was about three days ago, and that same pit in his stomach has been growing ever since. He, for whatever reason, missed you. Instead of coming face to face with this fact, he turned his back on it, and it was killing him. Pinpricks of pain would shoot through him whenever he noticed you deliberately changing your path on noticing him walk towards your way. God, it’s like he was a hostage to your feelings all these years, and automatically he felt guilty of thinking about you that way. You just liked him right? Why was he even so rude to you?

His behavior, and his demeanor didn’t go unnoticed by all of his friends, even the basketball team, who were more than aware of your absence at practice anymore. Whatever you were doing to remove Riki from your life might be working in your favor, but it was ruining him.

His brain felt like someone was swirling its contents around with a spatula, making a mess of his thoughts and his emotions. He hadn’t wasted a moment in spilling his dilemma to Sunoo, and invariably the guys he was closest to on the basketball team - Jake, Sunghoon, Jay and Heesung. The team itself were all in all pretty much aware of how the youngest was going through quite the mind-boggling series of epiphanies (if it could even be called that. Jay liked to refer to it as just a dumbass waking up from his stupidity sleep).

“Dude, I just don’t know anymore. Her not being there is very odd to me? I just can’t get used to it.” Riki sighs, shaking his head as he thumbs around his packet of Cheetos, slumping against the cafeteria wall, while the rest of his group gathered around him like a pack, eagerly listening in. “But isn’t that what you wanted? So there must be something else then? Maybe you didn’t mind her as much as you let on?” Jake inquired, his head tilting like a confused puppy. That had Riki scratching his head again. He saw you this morning by your locker. You were catching up with Eunchae, both of you laughing boldly to whatever Eunchae had just said, and there was a glow on your face as your eyes crinkled in amusement, which made a heartbeat skip in his chest. He was staring longingly at you, and it seemed like you noticed, because your eyes met his in scrutiny - your single glance making him feel like that six year old at the playground again.

When you were in freshman year, you had developed a fascination with reading horror novels and mangas and watching horror movies very frequently. Something about spirits and the occult had interested you very much, and many people around you knew about this hobby of yours. If anyone had any doubts about the intricacies of rituals and possessions, spells and witchcraft, they’d just go to you. Right now, Riki thinks that’s exactly what’s happening to him - you’d used your occult knowledge to put a spell on him. Of course, he knew how ridiculous he sounded. But he felt like he was bound to you, and couldn’t shake off your spell no matter how much he tried. And it was purely on him. This was just all so,so confusing, which he decided not to voice out to his friends until he himself had gotten a grip on what was happening to him. How he kept thinking about your little habits. Day before yesterday, he found himself soaked in sweat and thirsty beyond comparison after practice. Parched and defeated, he stumbled along to the locker room to find his flavored water that one of his teammates usually kept in his locker for him, only to come up empty handed.

“Jake, have you seen my flavored water? I figured you usually put one in my locker.” He asked nonchalantly, only to find Jake, and the rest of the team that entered the room in a state of sly smiles, stifled giggles and shock.

“Dude, we never did any of that. Y/N did that, she’d purchase the fancy water for you and put it in your locker before we came for practice.”

It made him feel different. He was blinking slow, and his brain was sluggish. You did that for him? God, you were so sweet, weren’t you. He already felt a bit sad about not seeing your bright grin that you directed to him in the morning (even though he always dismissed it with ignorance), but this was the cherry on top. You had loved him to death, and now he was a dead man walking without you.

“He looked at you, you know.” Eunchae is careful in her observation, but she knows you noticed too. Your pupils seem narrowed, and your lips are drawn in a tight line as you contemplate that look he gave you. You still couldn’t fight off the feeling of butterflies in your stomach when you met his eyes - those gorgeous, beetle-black eyes that had a magnetic pull to them. But within the haze of your flusteredness, you’d managed to catch the slight look of misery in them. He was looking at you like he was an injured puppy, lost without you. But your resolve was stronger. With the utmost focus, you managed to drive away the maddening thoughts of the possibility of him missing you away, and walked away with Eunchae.

Over the weekend, Riki had realized that being away from you was driving him insane. So on Monday, he was pulling his chair close to yours in the classroom, the metallic screech against the wooden flooring making everyone turn their heads to the scene, their eyes widening in shock at what was unfolding in front of their eyes. How on Earth was Nishimura Riki sitting next to Y/N L/N? Your thoughts were also very similar to the rest of your classmates, because what was happening right now? Riki, the boy you’d put your heart dangerously on the line for was right here, sitting next to you. His movements were awkward and he was fiddling with his fingers while casting shy glances towards you, reminding you of the scared six year old version of him you’d met at the playground. There is a faint red crawling up his pale ears, and he clears his throat roughly, before saying “Is it alright if I sit here?”

Your all consuming feelings seemed to come back like a crashing wave on the shore the moment he uttered those words to you, and you just nodded wordlessly, too shocked to say anything.

You look too pretty this morning, and it’s messing with his head. Riki’s beating himself up internally, because this wouldn’t be so difficult if you weren’t so goddamn beautiful for some reason. He nods when you do, and then gets to his work. His proximity feels dizzying to you, and the scent of his cologne makes it harder for you to focus on the work in front of you. He’s biting into his lip hard, to suppress the urge to just hold your hand. The smell of your shampoo, the warmth of your thigh being barely centimeters next to you. You’re both so horribly blind and it is just painful to you both, unbeknownst to each of you.

Nishimura Riki liked you. He really, really liked you. And as he turned his head to see your face, accented by the golden sunlight and eyes sparkling like dewdrops in the early morning, he knew that even if he wanted to run, he couldn't. He was trapped under your spell, and the thought of it made him smile.

The following days are filled with such odd interactions with Riki. He always found an excuse to find you first in classrooms, or walk you to the cafeteria. You suddenly found yourself back at basketball practices again, but this time forcefully dragged to the court by Riki, and an amused Eunchae in tow. He was there to offer you snacks and drinks from the vending machine. He helped you with homework and you helped him with his. Whatever diabolical game he was playing was working wonders on you, because suddenly all you could see behind your closed eyes was his gorgeous face.

The rest of the student body isn’t blind to his newfound affection for you. It’s all they’ve been talking about the entire time. His teammates slap his back in teasing jests while he shoos them all away, all the while that smile never leaving his face.

“There’s no way!” You’re laughing hard, and yours and Riki’s shared giggles are quite audible over the soccer field. You’re both sitting on the grass just after practice, where Riki’s cooling off in the gentle breeze blowing across the grass. He’s telling you about some antics he had put up in class to get away from not turning in assignments, which involved a fake rubber rat and a very scared Calculus teacher. You’re wiping tears from your eyes from the laughter while Riki shakes his head in amusement. The breeze blows a single leaf to land right on top of your head, and it makes you giggle harder.

He shuffles a bit closer to you, arm raising up to remove the leaf from your head. His breath is warm as it fans across your warming cheeks, the narrowed distance between you both not being lost on either of you. His eyes meet yours, and you’re still a goner for them. He gulps, Adam’s apple bobbing in nervousness, yet he makes no attempt to move away. Instead, he feels a bold surge in him. His finger loops around the bow on your school uniform, tugging the ribbon and invariably, you, forward towards him, making the breath in your throat hitch, and your eyes becoming wide as saucers. His eyes dip to your cupid’s bow, and scan over your lips and how they’re parted. Riki spends not a second more pressing his lips to yours, and you’re in heaven.

The walk back to your house is full of shy touches, and the warmth of your hand in his. Riki’s lips are still tingling where yours were just moments ago. He can’t even begin to fathom how he ended up here - from loathing you to wanting to kiss you again. He was addicted to you and wanted more of you. But these things needed to be paced, and Riki wanted it done right. Bidding you goodbye in front of your house, where you left him with another giggle-pressed kiss to his cheek and a warm buzz filling his body, he was absolutely enamored by Y/N L/N.

The next day, he wakes up and it’s a good day. It’s a good day because he’s going to ask you out finally. He wanted to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming, just because of the implausibility of the situation. There was a brightness surrounding the boy all throughout, a contrast to his regular attitude. Sunoo and Taki had been updated already, and he was planning to tell the team, the rest of his friends during practice, after which he would ask you on a date during your regular after-practice hangouts. Except for the life of him he couldn’t find you, at all. It was unfortunate that today was the day of the announcement of the student council election results, for which classes were mostly halted, since the student council was quite a big deal

He’s scanning around to find you amongst the crowd of the assembly where the results were to be announced - only to spot you a bit later. Also, he notices that you’re not alone. You’re grinning (a bit too much for his liking, if he's being honest) at Yang Jungwon, the boy who was the sure-shot winner of the President position. You’re too close to him, and it makes his heart clench. He’s biting his tongue until it almost bleeds. He doesn’t get an opportunity to speak to you, as the event commences. He just decides to wait till later, ignoring the pain in his chest he got from seeing you with another guy.

“The President of this year’s student council is Yang Jungwon.” There’s a smattering of loud applause, and even Riki joins in half-heartedly, still wounded over what he was previously. “The position of Vice President goes to his running mate, Y/N L/N!”.

He’s still in his place, though his heart bursts with pride and joy for you, his eyes drinking in your excited run up to the stage, shaking hands with the Principal of the school. Your face is broken into the biggest smile ever, and your eyes are shining from pure happiness. Why didn’t you tell him? Why didn’t he know you were going for it? Or that Jungwon was your running mate?”

But all in all he’s very, very happy and proud of you, so he squishes down that ugly feeling of jealousy in him, and focuses on how you somehow look directly right at him. Your smile drops a little when you notice he isn’t clapping, a fact Riki himself didn’t realize, too busy staring in awe at you. It takes Eunchae’s loud hollering in the crowd to break you out of your stupor and your return to your regular state.

He’s changing out of his practice clothes, feeling a bit down from the events that actually happened today and how he’d expected it to go. He hadn’t been able to catch a moment alone with you after the ceremony, and four of the older members of the team were missing from practice today too, since Jay was the treasurer of the previous session, he had to oversee the handing over of the duties to the newer batch. Practice, because of that, ended up being him, and the benchwarmers and people he didn’t really know all that well. It was something he had to get used to as the new captain, so he figured this would serve as a good preview. He was talking to another benchwarmer of his grade, Junhee, while changing. Junhee wasn’t necessarily a good person, if Riki was honest. He always hung out with the rash crowd and got into fights because of his crass nature. He placed the small box of chocolates he’s managed to quickly buy for you from a store outside school, a sticky note with your name and a congratulation scrawled on it, down on the metallic bench as he gathered up the rest of his things. This doesn’t escape Junhee’s notice, who smirks lazily as he spots the name on the post-it.

“No way, Nishimura. She did it, huh?”

Riki already doesn’t like the way he refers to you as just someone, and it sets his skin aflame. “Hmm?” he responds half-heartedly, not at all interested in maintaining a conversation with Junhee of all people. “Well, doesn’t it make sense, Nishimura? She’s into that horror shit right? Clearly she’s made a voodoo doll of you and forced you to love her. Manifestation shit, am I right?”

Riki’s blood is boiling as he hears what Junhee is saying, but for some reason he says nothing back. It’s like he’s trapped in this vortex in his mind fueled by the insecurity he felt from seeing you with Jungwon, or how he felt out of the loop about your co-curricular adventure. Staying mum, he just grabbed the chocolate box, and turned around, only to gasp in shock to see you standing right there. Your mouth is twisted downwards in disappointment, and you’re staring at him with absolute loathing in your eyes right now. He rushed forward towards you, ready to explain, and also wanting desperately to punch the snickering Junhee behind him, who was now slinking away from the scene.

It feels like there is a knife in your back and twisting itself in your flesh all over again. There is a panic rising in your throat, suffocating you overwhelmingly. It’s jarring and mind-boggling. So before Riki gets to you, you run.

Eunchae is gathering you up in her arms as your inconsolable state renders you helpless, slumping on the floor of your bedroom, finding it harder to breathe as the sadness keeps washing over you in painful crashes, making you feel weaker and weaker as the time goes.

“Why does he hate me, Eun? He kissed me, didn’t he? So why is he so cruel?”

The six boys in Riki’s room are trying their best with damage control, as they all had rushed over to his house when Riki had texted them in a panic and explained what had gone down. “But why didn’t you defend yourself in front of Junhee in the first place man?”, Taki asks frustratedly, tugging at his hair. Riki frowns, trying to ignore the flashes in his head of your heartbroken face while his chest aches. “I kept thinking about her and Jungwon. I treated her terribly before all this, didn’t I? I just kept thinking how she might like Jungwon now.” His eyes are downcast in sadness, and his voice is broken. Pulling up a chair right in front of Riki, Heesung plops down and holds Riki up by the shoulders, squaring him up. “Riki. Go. Go right now and apologize, before you lose her even more.” Riki is crying harder now, and wiping his tears, he breaks and finally tells them. “I don’t think I want to be without her, Heesung. I want her love, no matter if it drives me to my end.”

Riki sees how Eunchae slipped out of your house to walk towards the supermarket, no doubt to get you both some consolation food. He takes this moment to approach your front door, knocking furiously in nervousness and apprehension. It’s now or never.

You open the door, assuming it’s Eunchae who left something behind before she left, so seeing Riki - messy hair, lips bitten to the extreme and bloodshot eyes standing on your front porch knocked the wind out of your lungs. Ready to slam the door on his face, his long hand stops you from doing so, pleading “Y/N please, please just listen to me. It wasn’t how it happened. I didn’t agree with Junhee at all. I like you, Y/N L/N, like it’s breathing. Being away from you makes me lose my mind, and I know I haven’t been the best to you in the past. But please, Y/N. I need you to give me a chance. I need you.”

There’s warm tears flowing down your face, and even in this state Riki thinks you’re beautiful. The porch light shines on your face and you look angelic. He hopes it showed in your mercy as well.

“Why didn’t you disagree?” you sniffle, sweater paws raising up to wipe away some of the tears on your face. The dejected tone with which you ask him makes him feel a deep tug in his heart, aching and sad. “I felt. Jealous. And angry, that Jungwon was so close to you, and that you hadn’t told me about being his running mate. And I know that doesn’t excuse my actions. I just felt, I don’t know. Out of the loop.”

“I wanted to surprise you with the vice president's news.” You mumbled, head down. Riki hesitantly moved toward you, and slowly patting your head, he said “I was surprised, baby, and so, so proud of you. I felt so proud of my girl up there.” He says hoarsely, hoping that his sincerity is as evident as much as he feels it.

The breath gets knocked out as he groans through his mouth with the impact of your crushing hug. You have your face burrow into his chest, crying softly but also laughing slightly, wetting his shirt. He doesn’t spare a moment to wrap his arms around you tightly, fearing that letting go would mean that he’d lose you again. He sniffs in the soothing and familiar scent of your shampoo and mumbles into your hair, “I don’t know what spell you’ve casted on me, Y/N L/N. But I want to be under it forever.”

The sunlight, Riki thinks, just manages to make you so beautiful that it makes Riki speechless every single time. A lot has changed since the playground and the years after that. And a lot more changed within the last year too. You and Riki are midway through your senior year now. He was sad when he had to bid farewell to the older members of the basketball team, who were practically like brothers to him now. You continued your duties as vice president, though the shared activities you had with Jungwon, still a sore spot for Riki, made him pout adorably, which you always kissed away with a laugh. Riki was the basketball captain now, which added new responsibilities to his shoulder, which he carried excellently. The evidence of which was the recent basketball game that he’d just won with the team. The pep rally, and most of the team was still loitering around the court (Junhee was out. It was one of the first things Riki did as captain, in fact). Riki had sneaked you out to that fateful soccer field where you both had first kissed, and a beautiful sense of deja vu hit him as he looked at you in wonder - how you’d managed to put up with all of him was still a mystery to the boy. But, when you looked to meet his eyes - those dazzling, black eyes that glittered under the setting sun, you both realized - you were both enchanted by each other.

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joelhoney · 11 months

Text

#1 girl

pairing: dbf joel miller x afab/sorority sister reader

kenny here... tumblr Blipped me u guys. but i loved this too much to let it waste into nothingness. so here we go again take two using an ancient blog i never even used (from 2016 mind u...) enjoy!

You're too wrapped up in sorority duties to remember somebody's supposed to pick you up and drive you home tonight. One pissed-off Joel, curious conversation, and cowboy hat later, your evening takes an unexpected turn.

warnings: no outbreak au, dbf!joel, self gratuitous age gap (21/51), shy reader w/ some bursts of confidence, blowjob (m receiving), handjob (f receiving), dirty talk, praise, degradation too..., overuse of pet names... must b all

Of all the ways you imagined spending your fifth day of spring break, the last was in your dad’s best friend’s pickup truck with lame rock playing dryly through the console radio. In fact, last is generous—the idea itself had never even been conjured in your head.

The reason why is because you and your dad’s best friend—Mr. Miller—don’t typically interact beyond the confines of dinners, mandatory laughter, and the occasional one-on-one about something like boys in college, or classes in college, or the drive to college. Nothing much had changed when you moved the brief drive away to UT Austin, and between you everything’s remained the same, even now in your senior year.

For instance, a break—summer, spring, winter—would begin with your parents picking you up and shuttling off to the house, and end with an affair of the similar sort. Quickly into your first year, though, you learned to always insist you either leave school late or leave home early for spring break to take advantage of campus parties, especially because your senior year had cemented your shiny new position as President of Alpha Phi.

Any officer position in a sorority already came with a good deal of responsibility, let alone the presidency; and in addition to having recently turned twenty-one, the role required you to exhaust every drop of social battery, every ounce of skill you had at party hosting and alcohol obtaining without the use of a flimsy fake.

The eliminated nerves of using fakes made you much less nervous during parties, which often led to you letting more loose than usual. This party you’re in was thrown by some frat on campus, but this house is your last place of four; first two pregames, then a bar, then here. At some point at the bar your sisters had surprised you with a fun gift for the night, so you’re also wearing a pink sash, onto which rhinestones spelling out #1 Girl have been glued with precision.

Already you’re dizzy, wiping clammy fingers on the stiff cotton of your tight tank top, the curve of your tits spilling over the Alpha Phi logo. It’s small on you, the hem high above your navel and higher above the loose, low hem of your denim shorts. If they fell low enough on your hips, the high arch of your pink thong would’ve shown itself—maybe it did at some point, you’re too loopy to care.

“Oh, no,” you’re saying, but you can barely hear yourself over the rap song playing and everyone singing along, “no, I hate Jäger.” You’re shaking your head at your best friend and Vice President, Lia, who raises two handfuls of the opaque liquid. She shakes her head, sets them down on the table you’re leaning against.

“Lighten up, duuude. We’re taking them to celebrate your first and last spring break as President.”

“Aw, fine,” you muse loudly, giving in. “Only this once.” Out of obligation and genuine gratitude, you allow yourself to stomach your least favorite drink—then another, and another, a bit of each shot dribbling down the column of your throat and stickily onto your chest.

Lia snaps at the red bra strap that peeks out of your tank strap, laughing. “Settle down, Prez.” A partygoer, rowdy as they come, roughly deposits a sweaty cowboy hat onto your head and you yelp in surprise, steadying it. Whoever gave this, I’m keeping it! you holler, laughing as you feed yourself a shot of something your tongue enjoys more.

Absolut crowds the inside of your mouth when you take it back, interrupted only when a hand comes to shake at your shoulder. In your rush to turn, you nearly hit them with your hat.

It’s Cole, a good friend and member of the frat whose house you’re currently getting tipsy in. His eyes are rimmed and the whole air of him smells like weed. He offers one greeting: “Yo.” His eyes slide down to your chest, where your tugged-down tank has exposed a few inches of your red bra’s lacy cups.

“Hey,” you say, the syllable sounding sticky. “Up here, you ass. Jägerbomb?” You offer a smile.

“‘M a’ight. Listen, some…” He shakes his head, like he’s trying to place what he’s here to tell you. Then he nods, having remembered—“Right. Some old guy’s out front asking for you.”

“Asking for me? Old… guy?” Your eyebrows scrunch together, mind foggy. “My dad?” Shit. You’d completely forgotten they’d be picking you up today or tomorrow. Maybe they’d been waiting for hours—it’s one-thirty, the clock on the living room mantel reads.

“Nah, man, not your dad, this guy’s… he’s got a red pickup truck, um, he’s, like, he’s old looking.” He raises a hand above his own head. “Tall.” His voice is drawly with the weed high, but as soon as he said red pickup, you knew exactly who he was talking about. One look at your phone confirms it—five missed calls and a message, 11PM, sent by your dad: Joel’s in the area for work. He’s going out with buddies but can swing by the house to pick you up. I’m giving him your #.

“Fuck.” You blink. “Fuck! I gotta go.”

You never usually have to pack shit to go home, considering the drive isn’t too far. Briefly you consider making a detour to collect things from your sorority house, but you decide to sacrifice the laptop and the few important chargers. So, armed with only your phone, you wrench your way out of the crowd, a few goodbyes thrown in your direction and back.

The front door is open so the partygoers spill onto the front yard, intermittent conversation littering the area. Along the pavement, frat guys’ Civics and and Priuses are parked beside an old looking red pickup truck; leaned against it is—

“Mr. Miller,” you blurt out when you’re closer to him, voice steady (your mind is just as well, shocked back to lucidity from his presence). “I’m sorry. I had no idea you’d be picking me up today—tonight—” You heave a sigh, apologetic, refusing to meet his eyes. “Sorry.”

His arms are crossed over his chest, the sleeves of his button-up rolled up to his elbows. Even from a few feet away you can make out the shape, the lines of muscle on his forearms. He looks tired, moody—more than usual—and your heart pangs with guilt at the idea that you could be the reason behind it. But despite your best—really, your best—efforts, your stomach still swoops the same way it did when you were seventeen and naive, enough to find next-door-neighbor Mr. Miller extremely handsome. Hell, extremely hot.

It didn’t make sense. You’d suspected your little crush would be that—an adolescent, childish thing, evaporating more and more into thin air with every drive made to campus. But he never stopped being handsome, never stopped his corny jokes and the pet names that got you warm every time you visited over break. You had plenty of eye candy on campus, athletes and gamers alike, and yes you’d been picky, but had managed to sleep with a select few—despite all of it, only the remnants of your fantasies of Mr. Miller satiated you when your hand creeps into the apex of your thighs late at night, lust wrangling shame into silence for a few minutes.

You blink and the train of thought is over—the real thing is here, eyebrows set low, mouth frowning.

“Kiddo,” he starts, his voice thin with exhaustion, “look, I’ve done my share of… drinkin’, and that. I get it. But you gotta…” He clicks his tongue, eyes looking your outfit up and down. “You gotta let me know, let your parents know, where you are, and if you’re okay. ‘Cause I really did not want to spend tonight drivin’ from house to bar, to bar to house, feelin’ like I was lookin’ all over Austin for you.”

“I know,” you supply quickly, nodding. Your hands, fidgety, find purchase on the fibres of the silk sash strung along your figure. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Miller. I didn’t check my phone the entire evening, and—”

“It’s okay.” He says, nonchalant, lifting himself off the side of the car to walk to the drivers’ side. Gruffly, he adds, “Car.”

You’re quick to tug the door open, settling yourself on the passenger seat and breathing nervously. Your legs are littered with body glitter, your chest with the tack of Jäger. You spot him outside, his walk slow. He’s annoyed—rightfully so—stopping just shy of the door to pinch at the bridge of his nose, his lips miming a slow exhale. When he finally wrangles himself to sit, it’s quiet for a minute, then another.

“Y’have fun?” He starts the car, thrumming it to life. You nod, then offer a verbal answer—yeah. He nods, wiping a palm over his face. “What were you up to?”

“I, um… I organized a pregame for my sorority.” You toy with the rogue strands of denim of your shorts. “We went to a bar, after… then another… then, well.” You gulp. “Here.” The last question escapes you in a shaky, breathy squeak. “And you?”

“Hah, sure, kid. Had some contractor thing, half an hour from here. Then drinks with a coupl’a buddies from work. Could’ve been home by eleven-thirty,” he says roughly, driving through the still-vibrant streets of campus, “but it’s nearin’ two and I’m on a college campus.” The urge to apologize bubbles at your lips, high in your stomach, but you remain quiet. After a few stretches of dry silence, he asks again. “That party must’ve been real fun for you to leave your old man—and me—on radio silence, wun’nit?”

“Sure,” you manage, stammering. “We were celebrating my sorority presidency.” The dark scenery of Austin blurs past.

“Oh, sorority presidency,” he repeats, both teasing and genuinely curious. “I did hear your dad mention you were in Alpha Phi, s’that right?” You nod. “What’s that, then? Do presidents get cowboy hats?”

Your face grows hot, hands reaching up to clutch at the rim of the hat atop your head. “No, this—somebody put it—it was a joke, Mr. Miller.” A huffy laugh escapes you. “Sorry.”

“Sweetheart,” he says, and you wrench the reminder he’s 51 he’s 51 he’s 51 through your head while he pauses, “‘m drivin’ you around Austin late at night, and I’ve known you for your whole life. How ‘bout we drop the Mr. Miller act, alright?”

“Oh. Okay,” you say. His hands grip the steering wheel firmly, and your eyes wander to his arms, to how he’s basically stuffed into the shirt he’s wearing, big and broad and bulky. His eyes remain focused ahead, so you let yourself indulge a tad bit more—lower, to the material of his jeans. It’s dark in the truck, so you can’t see much, just the flex of his thighs. “Joel.”

“Attagirl.” You chew at the inside of your cheek, already feeling arousal simmering in you, low and dirty. You’re going to soak through this godforsaken thong. “Mind if I make a pit stop?” You shake your head profusely, watch as he pulls into a gas station parking lot. “Want anythin’, girl?”

“N—” your lips form, but you scrap your original answer. “Gum, if they have it.”

“Be damned if they don’t.” He slams the door shut and you watch him enter the store, watch him through the glass panels. He’s so broad. You’d nearly completely forgotten how stupidly you liked him, and now it’s coming, throttling back full-force, especially with the thrilling aspect of it possibly coming to fruition. You are, after all, an adult. And so is he, paying for his shit with a tight-lipped expression, arms crossed again, arms big and—Jesus.

You squeeze your thighs together, willing yourself to get your shit in place when he pulls the door open again, his eyes scanning your seated figure. He tosses you the packet of gum, and you respond with a sweet thank you, Mr. M—Joel, and you fiddle with the packaging as he starts the car again, driving until scenery grows more and more familiar, closer to home.

“By the way,” he says, voice husky with the unuse of not talking for a while. “Think it’s best you spend the night at my house tonight, kid. It’s late. Later than late.” 2:44, the console digital clock reads in blinky red text. “Your parents don't want the door rattlin’ open at this hour, so I’ll let you in the guest room.”

“Oh,” you say. “Sure.”

“D’you have a change of clothes?” He asks, even if he knows you climbed into the seat with nothing but your phone and a cowboy hat. You shake your head and he tsks. “You’re barely covered, sweetheart. Best be careful walkin’ around when the night’s this chilly.”

Barely covered. You think of every possible response, but what leaves your glossed lips is the riskiest: “What do you mean, barely covered?”

You figure if he starts saying shit like what are you insinuatin’, kiddo? You better sleep at yours tonight instead, it’s an easy out—you’re turning the corner onto your street now, and your stomach is boiling with nerves, sticky and anticipatory. “I jus’ mean… it shows a lotta skin.”

“It’s sorority merch, Joel,” you reply, half-amused and half-defensive.

“No, I”—he sighs, like he wants to backtrack what he’s just said—“I know, but… always worth somethin’ to be careful. Might catch a cold with all that leg… all that—you—showin’.” He parks in front of his house, this sizey, homey thing, and your heart flips knowing how familiar this place has been to you your entire life.

“I’m not going to wear winter gear to a spring break frat party.” You’re bolder, suddenly, but even if the statement is, your voice is level, meek, even. Joel nods, as if admitting defeat, and gets out of the car first; you follow, sneakers crunching against the asphalt as you follow him into the house.

“I hope,” he starts when you’re stationed beside him at the door, “I didn’t… offend you. I was jus’ concerned, is all.” Then he’s stoic again, slipping inside, straight to the kitchen to pour you a glass of water. He flicks a yellow light on and you squint when you get there, rubbing at your eyes to prevent them from aching.

You’re still rubbing at them when his gaze drops from your fussed-up hair and askew hat down to the shiny surface of your chest. Your goddamn top leaves him nothing to the imagination, your tits spilling out of it scandalously. The low cut even lets your bra peek through, red and bright and hey, you show up from college wearing these large university shirts and sweatpants—not this, never this. And your shorts, the way they’re really just a fucking belt, starting low on your hips and cut off high above your thighs.

Alpha Phi, the pink text on your white top reads on the left chest area. Right where your tits curve into the top, the slogan is printed: Union hand in hand. God, sororities and their fucking… quotable bullshit. And don’t get him started on the sash, this cutesy, frilly thing he wants to loop around your wrists so he can fuck you over the counter. He knows he can’t—it’s so wrong, so wrong. He’s known your dad for ages.

But you… you're so tempting, a little minx, chirping Mr. Miller all sweet and apologetic, chest out on full display. He blinks when he hears your voice filter through the fog in his head. “—off?”

“What was that, sweetheart?” His eyes meet yours again and he feels a twinge of embarrassment at the way your bashfulness has somewhat melted to give way to the clear amusement on your face. You must’ve spotted the way he ogled you; he wasn’t exactly trying his hardest to be subtle, unfortunately.

“D’you have something I can use to wipe myself off?” You gesture to your sticky collarbone area. “I got Jäger all over myself. Can’t handle the stuff.” You grimace at the memory, and he goes to grab a wet wipe; while waiting, you hoist yourself up onto the counter, bare legs swinging.

Joel turns to toss you the packet of wipes, but his throat dries before he can even call your name out. Your back is to him, and clearly you’re waiting for his return—you’ve busied yourself by sitting on his counter and letting the hot pink lace of your thong rise above the waistline of your shorts. Lord have mercy, he thinks to himself, adjusting his jeans as he walks back over to you.

“Wipes,” he says roughly, not anything else.

You accept the packet and smile shyly. “Can you…” you pause, the implication hovering over both of you, heavy. “Wait for me?” He nods, inviting. Warm. And he watches, inviting but not very warm anymore, the way you wipe over the expanse of your chest, over the curve of your tits, every other part of you dusted in glitter.

“So,” you say again. “Since we’re on first name basis now, Joel, I, um—I hope it’s okay to ask questions.”

“Sounds reasonable. Go for it,” he accepts.

“When’s the last time you went to a party?” Your smile is mischievous.

He chuckles, a huff of air. “...Long, long ago, kid. Back in my day, partyin’ meant beer, maybe a little weed… not that I'm complaining there, you understand.” He nods resolutely. “These days, a quiet home-cooked meal with just the people I really care about… is a party.”

“Wow, what an old guy answer,” you giggle. “Back in youuuur day.” Your raspy, honeyed voice wraps around the your with a teasing lilt.

“Oh, I’m old now, am I?” His stoic demeanor chips away when he laughs. “That makes you what, sweetheart? You’re barely a pup.”

At his words—at the utterance of pup—you roll your eyes and try to shift your seating so your thong doesn’t stick to your folds. “Okay, fine, next.” You’re not even wiping anymore, the material wrung into your fingers, which lay in a fist by your side. “When’s the last time you got shitfaced?”

He gives a grimace of a smile. “Aw… boy, it's been a while.” He comes closer, going from leaning on the opposite drawers to right beside you on the counter. You’re sitting and he’s leaning but still he’s taller, just a bit level. “But there was that one time back in my more adventurous days, when I was younger. A bachelor party wh… well, the details don't really bear talkin’ ‘bout in polite conversation.” He raises his eyebrows. “Why ya askin’ all this? What’s will all the last times?”

“I’m curious, is all.” You smile, leaning back; if his eyes drop just a bit, he’ll see right through your top, maybe even underneath the cup of your bra. “Okay, fine one last… last time.” You giggle, breathy. “When’s the last time you… had sex?”

The air shifts, and Joel clears his throat before chuckling. “S’none of your business, young lady. A gentleman is not raised to kiss and tell.”

“Oh, but he gets shitfaced n’ tells?” You test, pouting and leaning closer toward him so you can quiet your voice. “Come on. I won’t tell anyone I even asked.”

He sighs, contemplating. “Well… it’s been a while.” He gets his fair share of lays, when he goes out to bars with friends or the rare date, but nothing too drastic. It has been a few months. “But you didn’t hear that from me, understood? Now, let’s drop it.”

But you don’t drop it, you brat. “You’re like the born again 40-year-old virgin,” you tease smoothly.

“Try 51, honey,” he grunts out, depositing your dry wipes at the disposal across you. He turns back around, restrained.

“And what, you don’t wanna change that?” No, he thinks—what he wants is to take you over the counter ’til you’re sobbing and sore.

“Hey now, don’t think I don’t think about it sometimes. But I jus’—I don't wanna get involved with no one, even though... Hell, if I met the right person, I might just change my mind. Ain’t that the way it goes?”

“That’s such an antiquated view of sex,” you quip boldly, pressing your arms to your sides. “What happened to just having one good fuck?”

His eyes flicker down then up. “Well, hey. Slow down with the cursin’, sweetheart. And what in the hell makes you think I don’t do that?” He crosses his arms, offering a raised eyebrow and an insufferably smug smile.

“You didn’t necessarily object when I called you a twice-over virgin.”

He chuckles. “There’s more than one way to let it all out, my girl. You don’t have to just go all in to hit the spot.” The thought of him using his own—or some girl’s, actually, hand, throat… to get off, gets you all hot. You want to be that girl. His girl.

“Like how?” You ask, tilting your head to the side.

“Old man like myself probably can’t offer tricks you’ll find… useful.” He grunts, prepares to go upstairs. He reaches over you for the packet of wipes and your proximity urges him to stop, savor the closeness before the rational part of him reminds him you’re his best mate’s daughter.

“Okay, fine,” you say sweetly, voice much quieter—reserved just for the space between you two. “One last, then.”

Mmm, he huffs affirmatively, greenlighting your request. Impatient.

“Since when did old men do that?” You ask, inquisitive, placing emphasis on his self-proclaimed old man title.

“What? Entertain l’il minxes like yourself?” He responds, intending to break your newly-built façade of smugness.

“No,” you respond coolly. “Pack nine inches.” Then you’re clambering off the counter and walking to the stairs. He inhales sharply at the sudden vulgarity of your words, watches every move, every little bounce of your pert ass under the tiny shorts, the wave of your hair, every flex of the ridden-up lace thong against your back.

You turn briefly. “Coming or what?” And then you slip upstairs.

He hears the pad of your footsteps grow quiet and shuts his eyes, letting his composure waver in your absence.

Had he known Harold’s little girl would turn out to be the world’s biggest fucking tease—Jesus Christ. “Lord,” he rasps under his breath, repeating a mantra, holding back the urge to palm himself through his jeans. “Lord, have mercy.” Then he follows you, already spotting something different—the open door at the end of the hall.

His open door. It’s the one that directly mirrors your parents’, a revelation they all had a good laugh at. Sometimes if a matter was so pressing, a well-aimed pebble to the glass window would get Joel’s attention well enough. The lights are flicked on, cool-warm, in his bedroom. You’re in his bedroom.

Or you’re not. He walks in to find no trace of you, save for the scuffed white sneakers by the doorframe. He toes off his own boots and spots the walk-in closet light’s also been flicked on.

“Christ, you’re quick. You’re s’posed to be in the guest room.” He gestures vaguely to the one on the left side of the hall, even if you can’t see him.

“I had to pee. And I needed something to sleep in,” you say politely from inside. He grunts softly to himself at the thought of you undressing in there, the thought of you pulling on something of his.

“Get out of there,” he orders. “I’ll get you somethin’.” Under his breath he mutters, “S’my goddamn closet.”

You chirp okay but he adds anyway: “Hurry, out.”

So you do follow him, even follow the order to hurry, because you’re hasty in your exit, clutching the cowboy hat to your chest. “Sit.” He points to the bed, watches you set the hat next to yourself gingerly. And one last time he asks the Lord for mercy, quietly and in his head, before shutting off every other rational thought that had stopped him tonight.

You follow suit, hat still clutched to your torso, and he slowly comes to stand just in front of you, your face level with the buckle of his leather belt. When you shift he catches sight of the side of your bra, the lace of it. Eyes cast to your bare thighs, you pipe up.

“By the way, Mr. Miller—Joel, I didn’t mean to say any of—I mean, I thought we could talk comfortably about it… that… stuff, but I took it too f—”

“You’re damn fuckin’ right you took it too far.”

He spits it out roughly, harshly. Like he’s scolding you. A zip of shock goes through you—you hadn’t heard him swear so loud before. Maybe he is. “I give you a free ride home at half past one, give you water, give you a place to sleep for the night knowin’ damn well your momma n’ dad would both have killed ya if you stepped foot in that house wearin’ next to nothing. What do I get in return?” He looks down at you, two rough fingers jerking your chin to look up at him.

“I—” you squeak, your voice and confidence betraying you. You’ve soaked through your panties at his sudden switch in behavior. Like you’d broken a dam.

“I get a brat… whorin’ herself out to me like I’m not over twice her age.” He tuts, like he really is disappointed, and your heart almost drops. “I get all these damn questions about sex, like you think I’ll break and fuck you on my kitchen counter.” He was considering it. “All the teasin’, all the skirtin’ around in a thong and a fuckin’…” He shakes your chin. “S’there even anythin’ in that head of yours, honey?”

Your mouth’d been open. You shut it and lick over your lips. “Yeah,” you defend weakly. His hand lowers to stroke at the column of your throat, then to hook under the tight strap of your bra, peeking out under the white of your top. He sidles it back and forth.

“S’this why you asked me all those dumb questions downstairs, huh, sweetheart? ‘Cause you wanted me to pull your top open and fawn over this”—he yanks the hat away, revealing your torso underneath—“little show o’yours?” Your cleavage is sinful, downright—perfect, perky, inviting him to mouth at your tits. Your sash sits prettily above them and he can’t help but pull at it, too, jolting you toward him.

“N—” you inhale sharply, letting him pull and push you around as he pleases. He observes the blinding glittery writing on the pink material and lets out a humorless, self-satisfied huff of laughter.

“Number… one… girl.” His rough thumb grazes over the divots of the rhinestones. “That’s jus’ about right, ain’t it?”

“Yes,” you reply, voice small.

“I’m not sure I agree, baby girl,” he drawls. His touch is precise—he knows exactly where to go, what he’s doing—but rough, dirty, almost, and the huge size of his hands don’t help to support otherwise. He tugs down your tank top so it’s tucked underneath your bra, and you yelp, making a move to cover yourself. He laughs again—“Sure, go all shy on me like you haven’t been showin’ yourself off to me all night. Knees.”

You get off quick, so quick you’re dizzy when you steady yourself on two knees. Two lithe hands make their way to his belt but he steps backward, revels in your evident confusion, clumsiness, the flush high on your cheekbones. “Buckle down, sweetheart.”

“But—”

“No goddamn buts. Listen to me.” He ends up being the one to make work of his belt, and while he talks you have to bite your lip to keep from going slack-jawed at the sight of him. You’d been kidding about the nine inches thing, but Christ he’s huge, strained against the tight denim. He’s thick even under the layers of clothing, and all you want to do is choke on him. “You’re gonna let me use that mouth t’get off, first thing,” he grunts, like this is all some chore to him, “because I am not goin’ to put my cock in my best mate’s daughter.”

“How about,” you croak lightly, “your fingers, then?”

“Jesu—we’ll see.” He tugs his cock out then, and he’s fucking huge, he really is, his tip angry and flushed and being rubbed along your lips, sticking them up with his precum. He sighs contentedly, humming low, the vibration sent straight to your half-open mouth. You suck on the tip of him, watch a slow smile form on his face. “That sash oughta say somethin’ else.”

Your silence grants elaboration. “Number one slut, maybe.” You shift on your thighs, trying to hide how aroused you are at his mean behavior. But he can tell, he can watch the way your blinking slows, the way your eyes glazed over, glassy and teary from trying to take more of him. He doesn’t tell you to slow down, or go faster; he just watches, eyebrows knitted, focused. “Budge up.”

A hand, big and calloused, threads through your hair and gives a tug, goading your mouth open so more of his cock slips past. Your jaw aches from the attempt alone, so you pull off before you start choking too much, tonguing at the parts of him you can’t reach—lower, until you’re laving at his balls. He grunts, pleasured, simmered down. Attagirl. Then you’re back, bobbing up and down, trying despite yourself to take all of him, until your eyes are watery and you’re spluttering, choked.

“Now this is…” He says, and it comes out in a contented little sigh, “a number one throat. Keep those pretty lips open, honey, ‘m gonna fuck them.”

You do, your achy jaw slacked as he begins bucking into your mouth, the sounds of your choking only spurring him on. He’s dominant, taking and taking, and you’re humiliated to find how wet you are, soaked through the lace of your thong and darkening the denim of your shorts. The tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat only gets him to thrust even faster, watching tears fall from your eyes, streaky with mascara. His best friend’s daughter, taking dick like a fucking champ.

He thrusts harder, each sound emitting a nasty, incoherent noise out of you, choked little gasps that have him harder each time. Gonna fuck this throat raw, he mutters. Since that’s what you wan’ed, ain’t it? You reach up, light fingers massaging his balls, and then his hips stutter, and with barely any warning, you feel his hot seed shoot into your throat, little satisfied groans leaving the man above you.

You swallow what you can, limited by his dick still in your mouth. When he pulls out you lap at the cum left behind, circle your tongue around your lips, make a whole show of it. You speak again, your voice raspy and spent: “Please, my turn?”

He lifts you up and smirks at the way you yelp in surprise, tossing you onto the bed and pulling you back onto your knees, your back to his chest. He wrangles your shorts off, gives your ass a smack as he pulls them down, enough to expose what’s underneath. The stiff material gathers just above your bent knees, restraining you from moving much.

“D’you know what,” he says, still sounding angry—like he’s lecturing you, stern, “I could’ve been in bed, wakin’ up at six to work… instead I gotta teach this little brat a fuckin’ lesson. Your old man not teach y’enough manners?” He tugs your bra down, thumbs roughly at your pebbled nipples, wrenching a moan out of you. He’s hard again, dick poking into your ass, and fuck you want him in you.

“He didn’t,” you sniffle, pitiful. “Y’gotta teach me, Daddy.”

“Oh, she likes that, don’t she?” He grumbles, like the title is annoying, juvenile. The way his cock twitches tells you otherwise. “Shut up, baby honey. I got this.” He reaches up your thighs and the ticklish, pleasurable sensation gets you hot.

Joel, you whimper, seizing in on yourself. He grabs your other arm, pulls it back toward him so you remain open and pliant. Please, wait.

“No time for waitin’, not when you spend hours prancin’ around like a little whore, sweetheart.” Without preamble, he’s running his fingers up your thighs again, not stopping this time until his fingers are pressing into your clit, rubbing over the thin, soaked fabric of your panties. “And you’re so fucking wet for me. My number one girl, ain’t you?”

“Yea,” you babble dumbly. “Your number one girl.”

“Thaaat’s right. My girl needs her needy cunt filled up, don’t she? By Daddy’s fat fingers.” You nod along, drawn in by the vulgarity of his words, the way he spits them out. You’ve spent several nights fantasizing how his big, rough hands would feel on you—and you’ve been outproven. He’s so fast, so skilled with his fingers; they feel delicious in you. And you can’t stop thinking about all of those girls he implied he’s slept with, the way they probably got to this first. Lucky bitches.

He’s gotten you so wet the entire night, even moreso now, that your pussy is making obscene squelching noises with each pump of his fingers, these nastily loud noises that humiliate you, that turn you on even more, that make you drip all onto Joel’s linen sheets. Fuck, you whimper. He swats at your ass. No swearing, he’s saying.

“Look up for me, honey. Up at the window.” Outside, the sun’s beginning to crawl over Austin, just the faint blues and yellows of early morning. You realize you know this because his curtain’s been pulled open—by him, earlier, before any of this even started, you assume. And the only other thing you can see other than the sky and the sliver of the neighborhood is your parents’ window.

“No,” you plead, looking down. He doesn’t let you, tugs you back up to look by your hair. He knows your parents won’t be up ’til seven-thirty latest. But you don’t know that, and for now, you don’t have to.

“What then, huh, sweetheart? When they go to check on the weather n’ they see their best friend poundin’ their young daughter? What’d they think?” You jerk away, overcome with pleasure and embarrassment at the imaginary situation. You feel his fingers pump in and out of you, filling you up. They’re probably thick and hot, glistening each time they come out. You’re tightening up; you’ll cum soon, make a mess on his hand, which already drips with slick. “So you better hurry. Better make a mess on me soon.”

“I am, I’m—I’m gonna,” you moan. You’re wrapped up in the way his fingers play you just the right way. You’re so close to the surface, and you’ve been wanting this for way too long, so you nod, let yourself get carried away by his words, let yourself give in, spreading your legs as wide as they can go as he fingerfucks you, working out the tension that’s been building up for forever.

“That’s my number one girl,” he grins into your neck, and you’re convulsing release onto his hand, wetting it even further. He wraps a hand around your waist, keeps you close to his figure, his erection at the small of your back. “That’s it, honey. Did so well for me.”

“I want it,” you say meekly. “Even if they see.”

He groans. “Sweetheart, you must think real low of me to believe I’d put my cock anywhere near Harold’s daughter’s pussy.”

You tug your panties fully down, just enough so they fall off on their own the rest of the way, and guide his slick hand behind yourself, pressing his finger first into your folds again, sensitive, and then up toward your tighter hole.

You feel his breath tighten behind you when you say: “How ‘bout there?”

#dbf!joel #joel miller #joel miller imagine #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal smut #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller tlou #the last of us #tlou x reader #joel tlou #joel the last of us #joel x reader #pedro pascal x reader #tlou smut

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evilwizard · 9 months

Text

The Lich Who Stole Christmas

Every tumblrina in tumblr liked Christmas a lot.

But the lich, who lived just north of Tumblr, did not!

The lich hated Christmas! The whole Christmas season! Now, please don’t ask why. No one quite knows the reason. It could be his skull wasn’t screwed on quite right. It could be, perhaps, that his skin was too tight.

But I think that the likeliest reason of all… was his heart was encased by a strange lead-lined ball.

“Last year I made something that I thought in would usher

A new age of magic—my prized OrphanCrusher.

But my patents were stolen, and my sweet new invention

Is now being used… with good-ish intentions.

You see, Christmas wishes contain lots of magic;

And my device extracts it through methods so tragic

That I dare not mention them directly here

Though the name might clue in certain readers, I fear.

The Wizard Council, now that they possess this device,

Might use it, this year, to stamp out wizard vice.

Though the process might turn quite a few kids to carrion,

The Wiz Council’s ethics are utilitarian.

So what shall I do? What is to be done?

It seems rather clear that this Christmas can’t come.

But I’ve read a few books, and I know a few tricks

So this year I’ll steal Christmas, while dressed as Saint Nick!”

So the wizard of evil returned to his lair

Stitched a red suit, and did up his hair

Built a sleek sled—and—who among us,

Could hope for a much better Rudolph than Krongus?

They took to the skies, that next Christmas Eve,

And tailgated Santa, whom they hoped to deceive

At every house he left presents, they quickly descended,

And stole the decor and the gifts he’d intended.

And when the dark wizard’s sleigh was full-loaded with gifts,

He tugged at the reigns, and they made for The Rift!

A place where the veil between worlds was thin…

And a brilliant place to dump the gifts in!

“You see,” he told Krongus, as they approached that strange crack,

“Once something goes in, it can never come back!”

“Moreover, it’s perfect,” the wizard did sing,

“For The Rift destroys every part of that thing!”

“Every instance, every atom in all multiverses,

Will be undone as though by my special dark curses.

Not a gram, not a dust speck or mote shall remain,

And no one will even remember their name!”

“But sire,” muttered Krongus, “would it not be more precise,

If you simply put in the OrphanCrusher device?”

The evil wizard thought of this, parking his sleigh in the snow.

He’d made quite a trip, and this seemed quite a blow.

“I do have one here,” he told that weird devil.

“But destroying Christmas seems rather more evil!”

Then, far behind him, and the gifts he had pillaged,

He heard a small noise coming from Tumblr Village.

It was simply a song, of holiday spirit,

But the wizard was utterly shocked just to hear it.

“It came without ribbons! It came without tags!

It came without packages, boxes or bags!”

Then the lich thought of something he hadn’t before.

Could it be Christmas was some kind of contagion or spore?

What happened next? Well, in Tumblr, they say,

The lich’s dead heart exploded that day!

And the combustive force of that villainous blast,

Airlifted the sleigh, and brought it right back,

To the village, where Tumblrinas rejoiced!

Then continued to sing, and lift up their voice.

And back at the rift, the lich, with head in a spin,

At the edge of the rift dropped the OrphanCrusher in.

So Christmas was saved, by accident mostly,

Though performing a good deed turned the bad wizard ghostly.

“Come, Krongus—we must now return to my tower,

While I wait several months to return to full power.”

And at Wizard Council HQ, certain strategist seers,

Saw all this occur through the orbs that they peered.

They smiled, and high-fived, and struck up the band,

Pleased that these events had gone just as planned.

#evil poetry #long post #happy holidays <|:^)

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satubby · 4 months

Text

[Once upon a dream: When I loved you]

[Once upon a dream, where I saw you sleeping in my arms, I'm starting to forget what loneliness is, my beautiful human baby... Child of man, is this what you call love? If so, I'm afraid of losing you and this feeling. —Malleus Draconia ]

Disclamer: I was listening to my usual music and I don't know why but YouTube recommended old songs that I gave a like to, so among them was One Upon a Dream, which led me to rewatch the 2014 Live Action based on Maleficent. and from there to doing this, anyway I'm sorry if there are spelling mistakes and as such I'm sorry if the characters in Diasomnia look like those in Oc I haven't played in a long time and I left the fandom due to lack of time and interest.

[This writing will have 2 parts, the second I will be thinking about how to do it and if it will have Lana del Rey's song, this time I put Cinderella's song, I'm sorry lol!]

It was a rainy night, a woman escaped from her pursuers and was carrying her baby in her arms. "Catch that bitch! She deserves to be punished for witchcraft!"

The strange and mysterious woman ran faster than before when she heard the scream of those guards. How did she end up like this? She wondered, not long ago she was a happy woman, the prince loved her as she loved him, yet his stepmother the dowager empress, discovered her elven blood, which was considered blasphemy. She never asked to be singled out, even her pregnancy was a constant danger.

From where did it all go wrong? It wasn't her fault or her baby in arms that the human world hates magical beings given how greedy they are, especially noble ones like her stepmother who called her a bastard abomination.

Arinet, bastard daughter of the duke belonging to the south and daughter of a winter elf, was now nothing more than a heretic cursed and hated for the blood that ran in her veins. And she blamed herself for being foolish to believe that the dowager empress and her own stepmother would not conspire to ruin her romance with the crown prince.

Crying she coos trying to calm you down you in her arms, her precious baby, in tears she gave you one last kiss as she continued to run away from the gunfire coming from the archers and the duke's mages, falling down a through a snowy well, she smiled for the last time and left you hidden from the hunters who followed her, if she died it would not be with you, so she said goodbye crying and with the little strength in her feet, she ran despite her ankle pierced by the tip of the arrow shot before.

Malleus was walking through the dreary paths of his forest full of thorns and dry trees covered with seasonal snow, it was another dull morning and the old black dragon, prince of fairies and dragons, was bored. When was the last time this forest had anything interesting beyond its creatures fearing him? He doesn't remember, yet his thoughts are broken when he hears a cry, more precisely, the cry of a small human baby, an offspring of man. Then his bare feet on the cold snow traversed like a dance in the snow, walking towards you he approached your basket, taking you from it curiously but awkwardly, whoever put you there did not measure the coldness of his forest, he was unaffected given his nature and body, Malleus was already warm on his own.

Emerald eyes narrow slightly at the sight of you. He carefully and lightly touches your cheek with one of his sharp nails, accidentally giving you a scratch so he uses his magic to heal it. He've never seen a baby up close before, the ones he saw were many, different and weirder, but you're even more so given that human nature of yours. And him have no idea how to handle the situation. He lifts you up to his eye level... you look pretty upset about being out in the cold and he doesn't blame you for it, even your tender cotton cheeks were ruddy.

"I wonder... What exactly are you? The humans I know are bigger than you." Malleus mutters under his breath as he looks towards you still trying to be careful. He can sense that you have a special thing, in fact he smells traces of magic on you, but that confuses him even more as to why you, a frail, human little thing of all things... are in the woods in the middle of the cold.

Curiosity filled his being as he looked at you, you a small being resting in his big arms, sleeping as if he were not the dominant creature in this territory. He was confused. You are a human baby so... small that you could easily be killed by accident, could this little thing be so cute? As far as he knew, humans are ungraceful or so he was told, plus the fact that he has killed some fools daring to enter his lands. He gently used a finger to touch your little nose. So cute you looked! He was also intrigued. Why did they leave you, so small and vulnerable in their forest? And alone, with no one to hold and care for you. You would become food for vultures or some other monster very quickly.

Malleus looked around looking for the human responsible who has left you abandoned, however instead his nose detected a smell of iron and acrid mixed with traces of magic.... It was blood of the child of man, so walking with you, even if clumsily, he cradles you in his arms they go towards the place where the trail was, strangely on the way you didn't cry, in fact, you even fell asleep comfortably.

Normally everyone is afraid of him, although it is normal given his status but that makes him socially awkward and lonely, maybe that's why he unconsciously clung to you. Malleus then arrives at the place where that iron smell came from, finding the corpse of your mother, a beautiful woman but... The old dragon prince notices that she was stabbed several times and until her last minutes of life she fought. In addition there were traces of magic thrown, from elves more specifically although it does not give him so much importance; he bends down and takes a sample of blood, licking it from the snowy ground— This woman had Mana, like you, so he assumed it was your mother as you had the same bracelet as the woman as well as the same smell of that magic.

Malleus stares at the deceased woman with? something like a sad look in his vibrant green eyes. You moan slightly with a groan as you stir, but go back to sleep a few minutes later. Malleus' long tail wags behind him as he thinks, frowning slightly. He looks down at you in his arms, then at the strange looking woman, she has white hair and apparently blue eyes, plus somewhat pointed ears. Malleus knelt down next to her lifeless corpse, carefully analyzing the bracelet, it had elvish letters which read: "The eternal and pure shall remain, the evil and impure must be purged" And honestly he didn't understand what the engraving meant, so he just leaves it there.

"A human mother and daughter abandoned in the forest.... Who would do such a heartless thing...?" His gaze hardens as he look around the area, trying to find any clues left behind, but there was nothing. He looks closely at the wounds on the body and notices every feature your mother shared with you, from the lips to your beauty, he couldn't help but be distracted from his goal.

"She died protecting you, little daughter of man.... Now I understand her determination and strength. If I'm honest, she was no ordinary human, too bad that led to her cruel fate." Malleus gently touches your cheek wiping the drool running from your lips, you were still asleep.

There was a mixture of curiosity and a strange sense of melancholy in the eyes of the ancient being. His eyes sparkled as he recognized the faint traces of mana lingering in the air, mixed with the unmistakable scent of mingled human and elven blood, definitely the children of man were hard for the old dragon to comprehend.

"What a waste. A mortal life, snuffed out by the callousness of other humans."

He spoke softly, almost wistfully, his voice tinged with a touch of what seemed like sadness, though he did not understand it. He stood thoughtfully for a moment, then, sighing, he closes his eyes to the woman's corpse and with his green magic breath, casts a living flame that burns away all traces of your dead mother.

"Rest in peace daughter of man and nature, I will take care of your human baby."

Then he withdraws with you in his arms, he doesn't know much about humans, in fact he hasn't even seen one in 400 years, yet his curiosity and compassion made him act like that [perhaps the fact that you, a small and fragile thing, managed to move something in him beyond indifference and boredom] Then he saw you sleeping, he smiled softly.... What a curious little thing you were.

Upon arriving at his castle, he was greeted by Lilia, his guardian and close friend, as a father figure to Malleus even though he is already an adult in dragon terms.

Lilia approached smiling and playful, although he noticed the bundle in Malleus' arms, as a father figure and royal advisor, he was curious.... How unusual for his little Malleus. "Oh, I see you brought something interesting from the forest, hehehe, tell me, did lonely little Malleus get bored with himself and decide to bring a little human?" Lilia teased, however Malleus just snorted smiling at his advisor and guardian, still holding you in his arms.

The prince of Briar Valley had chuckled quietly at Lilia's comment as he walked carefully towards him, his expression was calm and the tail dragon wagged back and forth behind Malleus himself, revealing his mood. Lilia always teased him when he was bored with his normal routine.

"Hm, this... 'little human' was abandoned in the forest by her mother, I thought she would surely become dinner for a wandering monster. I was also curious to know what human cubs are like, I see they are fragile to be greedy when they reach adulthood."

Malleus mutters under his breath, his eyes moving quickly to look at the baby again as he sleeps soundly in his arms.

Lilia was really surprised, normally his little Mall showed no interest in anything and was very socially awkward, but here he was hugging you, a small and fragile little thing. Lilia fell from the ceiling of the throne room, like an ingratiating acrobat he sat up and then sighed the veteran fairy, speaking earnestly before his king and pupil.

"Your Majesty, you know that raising another living being, especially a human, who is different from us in terms of biology and growth, is not easy at all so tell me your highness? Do you really plan to raise that human baby, YOU who barely even know about them, beyond the times they have tried to invade our lands? I really sometimes don't know what you think Mall" Lilia sighed looking seriously at the dragon, Malleus lifted you up in the air looking at you still sleeping, you looked so... soft and tender. You would be a beautiful girl. Mall raised an eyebrow at Lilia for his comments.

"I am perfectly aware of that, Lilia. A fairy and a human child... a combination that I know very well will take time to understand..... She is more resilient than you think. But I cannot leave this baby alone, she was abandoned by her own mother. Such a cruel fate for an offspring of man."

His eyes shifted down to look at you as your small body shifted restlessly in his arms, sighing again, he cradles you in his arms once more. Malleus smiles softly.

Lilia sighed again, smiling and shrugging his shoulders surrendering to the blackhaired prince's stubbornness. He then walked over to you to look at you, you were certainly pretty, though as Malleus said, you had magic that was rare in humans, so Lilia asked his king and pupil, "Malleus, tell me something, do you know what it's like to raise a human? The consequences of it are something with variables and they age fast, besides you are sure to do it, from what you told me his mother had magic.... What did she look like, eyes and hair color?"

The dragon did not understand at first as he was dense at times, but then he understood what she meant, Lilia was asking the race of that human, if she was one and she certainly was not— Your mother was a half elf, a very beautiful one with white hair and blue eyes, perhaps that is why she was killed and in a desperate attempt to protect you both, she ran to her lands seeking to return home. So far he was able to piece together conjectures, his density and disinterest sometimes blinded him.

Malleus thought for a moment, studying your face, trying to find any resemblance you might have to your mother beyond your features but you looked more human. The old dragon prince hummed thoughtfully before finally speaking.

"She... was a half elf if I am correct. Her hair was soft and like a white flake.... Plus her eyes were a beautiful light blue color. But she also had magic, as strong as she may have been, the poor woman was outnumbered and killed for unknown reasons."

He looks towards you who were still sleeping once more as he spoke, his eyes soft as he recalls the memory of the woman.

Lilia analyzes the situation and then asks one more question. "How do you plan to take care of her? Sooner or later she will have to return to her homeland, is that okay with you? You know that the magical races and humans have accomplished nothing together for centuries and their traces of disdain still remain? So, be honest, my dear prince, how long do you plan to keep her here? Surely sooner or later you will get bored."

Lilia saw Malleus' expression, there were many emotions clashing and the veteran fairy smiled, he just needed a little push and Lilia would be sure that his beloved ward would understand the implications of this... What would Malleus do, the ever shy dragon monarch and the one who longs to know human emotions and humans themselves?

Malleus looked conflicted as he listened to Lilia's question. He knew there was tension between the races and he also knew it would be difficult for you to return home after being raised here. But him simply could not allow you to suffer, you were innocent. His green eyes shifted from Lilia to you, a small frown on his face debating his decisions.

"I'm... not entirely sure. If he goes home, I'm worried he'll never fit in with his own people.... And if he stays here, will he have a happy life?"

Lilia smiled and honestly, it wasn't bad that his beloved monarch and prince for once longed to have something, whether he was aware of it or not, that's why Lilia asked such a question. He wanted to see how far his pupil's interest would go. Would it be temporary or could you, a fragile little thing, really awaken something more in the bored and shy prince of thorns? The mere thought excited the former Fae.

Malleus let out a soft sigh as he lifted you closer to his chest, your small face was warm and soft to the touch, that little body fit perfectly like a puzzle piece in his arms. He felt something in his heart that wasn't there before as he looked at you, a strange feeling of responsibility, of protection, maybe even a hint of affection? He wasn't sure, he had never been close to a baby before, let alone a human like you were.

"I don't want her to suffer the same fate as her mother..."

Lilia clapped his hands and smiled, there was a long way to go. "Very well Your Highness, let's learn about humans and especially about their offspring, breeding and feeding!"

That afternoon Malleus was educated on what things they should and should not eat, down to the basic necessities. Malleus wrote everything down in his mind and would then apply it even though he still had doubts.

Malleus listened attentively as Lilia explained things, taking detailed notes in his mind of everything he told him. He was a fast learner and quickly remembered every detail. As Lilia spoke, the dragon prince gently ran a finger across your forehead, gently stroking the baby skin with an expression of slight amazement on his face. In a little over a year you will be able to walk, talk and think. Malleus couldn't believe how wonderful humans could be .... Or was it that you were just a unique baby?

And over the next few days Malleus did all sorts of things that no one would think possible coming from his royal highness and mighty dragon, but there he was changing diapers. "No! Be careful, don't you see? You're irritating her skin, though it's rare that she doesn't cry from your rough touch, anyway, look at tying a diaper!" Lilia pushed Malleus aside and changed your clothes, playing a little with you, making you laugh, but this was a simple provocation on the fairy's part, he wanted to see how Malleus would react to this and indeed, the dragon became jealous of his former tutor.

Lilia turned as he saw Malleus' green eyes glowing, after finishing your change of clothes, he handed you over to the dark prince. "I assure you that you will improve with time and practice as I won't always be here!"

Malleus watched as Lilia deftly changed your diaper, baby laughter filled the room as the old fae made you laugh. The dragon was a little puzzled to see Lilia do something with such ease, he even felt a little jealous for some reason, as he wanted to make you laugh too, but you just looked at him curiously. He let out a small snort as Lilia handed you over, looking at you and studying your face again, he was still clumsy in grabbing you.

"TSK! TSK! Look how stiff you are, you should carry her more gently" The fae scolded his monarch and prince who grumbled like a child pouting softly.

"I'm a fast learner, Lilia. Don't underestimate me..."

Lilia scoffed with laughter, his little Malleus was really cute in his own way [Of course if Lilia wasn't aware of his immense influence and power] At the dragon prince's frown, Lilia playfully apologized and raised his hands in peace.

"I know, my dear prince, but you must be careful! You wouldn't want the little one to cry, would you? Well, leaving that aside, come to think of it, you haven't given her a name have you, you, do you want to give her one?" Lilia noted this, for several weeks now you had been called 'Child of Man' or 'Little Human' and if the Fae were honest, they can't always call you that, names are important though given Malleus' own obliviousness, he hadn't even noticed until his advisor and former guardian pointed it out to him.

The fae-dragon sighed, squeezing into his embrace and widening his eyes in confusion when Lilia pointed that out. You would definitely need to be given a name of your own, and they couldn't always call you the man's daughter... or little girl.

"Hm, I guess you're right... what do humans normally call their children? I don't want to accidentally give it a name that has an unfavorable meaning..."

Malleus was somewhat (perhaps too much) unaware and sometimes his naivety with humans or other races that are not dragons or Faes, are unknown to him (either in customs, ways of acting or physiology). Leaving aside that sometimes he himself prince was carried away by rumors or experiences of his own. "I don't know, but what do you think.... (T/N), sounds nice, means timeless and infinite." Advised the old Fae as Malleus looked at you, you were playing with his fingers sticking them into your mouth.

Malleus hummed curiously as he listened to Lilia's suggestion, raising his hand to gently touch the top of your head, letting you cling to his fingers as he continued to think... the name '(T/N)', sounds good... he thought. Then he looked at you, watching you play innocently with his fingers as you looked at the old dragon.

"(T/N)... (T/N)... yeah, yeah, that sounds pretty good..... (T/N), then."

That day Malleus finally gave you a name, which would be one of the first signs that his curiosity would turn into love and love into obsession.

It had been 5 years, for Malleus this was nothing, as he sometimes has long periods of sleep (of course Lilia would wake him up to avoid sleeping more) Otherwise your growth would be lost and since Malleus loves you too much, the prince of Briar Valley did not want to miss anything about you, that included your growth stages.

"She do grow up fast, I can hardly remember what her was like yesterday!" Lilia complained dramatically but Malleus, who was drinking his tea, put down his cup and smiled softly as he watched you play in the garden. From large your beauty was remarkable, unbeknownst to you, you made more than just the barren thorn garden bloom in his heart.

Malleus smiled slightly as he watched you play in the garden, admiring the way you made the normally withered and barren garden come alive with your presence. He had certainly grown fonder of you over the past few years, watching you grow and learn new things always made him smile. He looked at Lilia with a loving smile on his face.

"In fact, Lilia... it seems like only yesterday that I found her in the forest... now she's growing with each passing day."

Lilia put his hands under his chin, watching you play and make wreaths, it's been a while since Briar Valley had this warm and colorful atmosphere. "Don't you think humans are kind of interesting and chaotic? By the way, our little girl will soon be 6 years old, what do you plan to do? The past years you gave her many a gift, but oh my little Mall! Remember that unicorn you gave her didn't even last because your jealousy won the battle?, poor creature, they ran as soon as you came angry at them" He chuckled, in the end Malleus was attached to his dragon nature more than his Fae half, as much as this one wanted to deny it.

The prince of Briar Valley let out a small snort at the memory. He had indeed become jealous of the unicorn, and it wasn't the only time either.... Every time you got a new toy or friend from the animal world, he got so possessive that he couldn't help it. He sighed. silently as he thought for a moment before responding....

"Hm, I'm actually very aware of my little human birthday... like you said though, this time I want to do something special for her, but I have no idea what to give her."

The old fae laughed and responded with another question to the dragon prince's confusion. "And what do you think you can give him this time? It can't be something living or something non-living, since you get jealous over anything, like the time you 'accidentally' burned one of her favorite toys with your fire because it took her attention away from you." Lilia fiddled with the fork and Malleus coughed his tea, avoiding looking at the fae who teased him about his extreme behaviors.

Since he was just processing centuries of emotional numbness and you were the one who awakened those experiences and emotions in him, it was difficult for him not to go to such extremes.

The black-haired man snorted at Lilia's words as he looked away. It was true that he was extremely possessive of you and would get jealous of anything that caught your attention.... But he couldn't help it. The dragon sighed softly and closed his eyes, crossing his arms as he thought for a moment about a solution to this.

"Hm... How about... a new toy, but only she can touch it? Sounds like a good solution, doesn't it?" Malleus asked thinking it would be ideal but Lilia made a face almost as if to say 'Are you seriously thinking about that?' and answers him with another question.

"How are you sure you're not going to burn it or destroy it? It's funny to a point that you destroy his stuff out of jealousy, but (T/N) he doesn't find it funny. I have an idea! How about you take it to the meadow mmm? Flowers are beautiful and safe, you can't get jealous if they are symbols of love. You know, you always keep her cooped up here, the royal garden is beautiful and the castle too, but remember, kids are curious and like to explore, you used to do that when you were a little lizard."

Malleus sighed, shaking his head and ignoring the ramblings of Lilia who boasted about how beautiful and tender the dragon prince was before he grew up. On the other hand, you approached towards them smiling and showing a butterfly in your hand.

"Tsunotarou, look how pretty them is; although their wing was broken, but I repaired it!" You laughed, peeking out from the table with your small stature. Malleus looked at you smiling anyway and lifting you in his hands, you were just as small as when you were a baby but you were growing faster than expected. Either that, or it was just his abnormal perception of time.

The Fae-dragon looked at you, his bright emerald eyes shining with pride as you showed him the butterfly. He couldn't help but smile broadly when he saw your enthusiasm and laughter. He always loved the way you looked when you were happy.

"Hm, it looks quite beautiful. You did a good job with the wing, it broke before..." He says complimenting your little acts of love for others though a bit jealous of that butterfly. He then lifts you up in his arms, hugging you like he does all the time. The dragon loved you as much as you loved him.

Lilia laughs internally, his enigmatic gaze analyzing the situation, only in time would Malleus accept his possessive and territorial side, Lilia would be sure to witness it. "Aww~ our princess is a saintess!" Lilia teased in her cheesy tone, then pressed her lips together mockingly as if she wanted to give you a duck kiss, you on the other hand laughed avoiding his lips as he began to chase you away from Prince Briar's embrace. Malleus looked at you and smiled though the vein in his forehead and neck said something more than simple elegance, jealousy, raw as poisonous.

́Maybe I should break his neck and cut his legs off? ́ thought the Fae Dragon, but he restrained himself from those possessive and murderous fantasies, on the other hand Lilia felt a look on the back of his neck imagining that his pupil and monarch It was almost drilling his head (figuratively), in a way it was funny.

"AH!!! yuck, I don't want your kisses uncle Lilia, they're slimy and I hate it when you pinch my cheeks!" You exclaim, snapping Malleus out of his thoughts as Lilia caught you and you tried to push him away while laughing.

"Come on, just one little kiss! And can you blame me? You're so cute" The old fae squeezed you in his arms. Malleus felt a small twinge of discomfort in his chest as he watched Lilia try to give you a kiss, the dragon fae clenched his jaw slightly and his fists clenched into fists of fury.

"Lilia... Fuck!"

He muttered under his breath, looking at the two of them and keeping his feelings under control. Malleus again refused, it wasn't right to be jealous, he wouldn't give his advisor the pleasure of seeing him in such a state let alone losing control.

So he represses his emotions once again, causing Lilia to look at him out of the corner of her eye and sighs, releasing you from his arms. "How boring you are! Well, anyway, I have to go, I need to check the barrier on the moor, what was it...like 200 years ago? Yeah, I haven't seen the state of it in 200 years.... I'm off then, have fun my children, bye bye bye!" Lilia smiled saying goodbye as the door closed, you on the other hand walked up to Malleus taking his hand.

"Tsunotarou... Were you upset? You know Uncle Lilia is like that, by the way I made you this crown! I hope you like it" Malleus looked sideways at you and blushed, coughing in embarrassment at your tenderness, he bent down to your height so you could put it on his head. The rose wreath, although twisted by its awkward horns, was still beautiful to look at. However, it was cute to see how your delicate little hands went out of their way to give him such a gift.

Malleus looked at you, his mood changing almost immediately as he saw your expression. He couldn't help the laughter that came from his pale but beautiful lips as he watched you try to put the crown on his head, but fail miserably as his horns got in the way of said task. He chuckled softly as he gently took the crown and put it on perfectly as he bent down and ruffled your hair.

"Thank you, he's lovely, as always... I won't get mad at Lilia, he's like that with everyone, but promise me you won't leave room for his jokes ok?"

"Yep! I won't let uncle bully me with his jokes anymore" You laughed once more, clapping your hands and with innocent grace, you hugged his neck giving him a kiss on his pale cheeks making Malleus blush once more that you would almost swear steam was coming out of his ears. So much so that his emotions affected the atmosphere of the whole valley, you saw how the gardens grew more roses and out of nowhere butterflies or birds appeared.

Because of your innocence, you were frightened to see him so red, thinking you had done something wrong. "Tsunotarou is red because of me, now he has a fever!" You began to cry with worry in your girlish eyes, as you noticed earlier how hot he had become because of your actions, but you didn't know what triggered that.

Malleus looked surprised, his eyes widened at your innocent and adorable way of looking at the situation. He let out a small scoff and chuckled under his breath, he always forgot how innocently cute you were and how your naive personality embarrassed him most of the time.

"No, no, you didn't do anything wrong, it's okay...I'm fine, you're just too cute and beautiful my precious princess" He said softly as he stroked your back, trying to calm your crying as he blushed a little from embarrassment.

"Eh? ... Then why are you red? If you don't have a fever, maybe it's another illness? I don't want you to be sick, Tsunotarou!" You were still sad and worried but you weren't crying so much anymore, much to her relief.

Malleus sighed, lifting you up in his arms and sitting you on his lap, then wiped away the excess tears by kissing your chubby little girl cheeks pulling them as a game and a little reprimand.

"That hurts, a lot Tsunotarou."

He smiled at your innocence and how you so quickly assumed he was sick because of his red face, he was a little amused that you couldn't see the underlying reason he was embarrassed rather than sick. A small chuckle escaped his pale lips when you complained at how hard he pulled on your cheeks, then he sat you on his lap as he stroked your head talking softly.

"No, no, I'm not sick... it's much simpler than that, little girl."

The prince/monarch smiled at you once again saying how tender and beautiful you were in his eyes and that's why he was embarrassed when you did such tender acts.

"Am I pretty? But Sebek says I smell like a dirty human, but I don't know what that is. He always criticizes me, the other time he scolded me for accidentally knocking down one of your paintings in the office, he also says humans are ugly, does that mean I'm ugly and stinky?" your tender and gullible eyes made Malleus swallow bile, mostly because of what you were telling him, sometimes your tenderness and naivety reminded him of himself. 'Sebelk, that idiot' he thought to himself, cursing his loyal friend and self-proclaimed knight, though to Malleus Sebek was an annoying zealot.

The prince of Briar Valley shook his head and sighed softly. Yes, Sebek tended to say things he shouldn't say in front of you. And yes, he was also an absolute fanatic who was too loyal to him, sometimes not even liking his attitude because of how loud and restless he got.

"No, you're not ugly, you're beautiful... in fact, you're the most beautiful little girl I've ever seen in my life... and ignore what Sebek says, because he's a brat who talks too much..."

And speaking of the devil, he will come! Sebek knocked on the door, although it didn't do much good as he ended up whipping it anyway, mostly to warn of his presence.

"MALLEUS-SAMA!!!" Both you and the aforementioned covered your ears at Sebek's cries and his following praise, the Prince of Thorns had to silence him before he gave any more speech about how he is the most perfect among dragons that ever lived.

"Ahem! As I was saying I brought breakfast because honestly Lilia-sama is horrible at cooking, and I also wanted to tell you that Silver will be away for a week and is still dealing with the demons in the troll pit." After that introduction, Sebek served everything with grace and- Perhaps too much perfection; even Malleus was sweating with embarrassment from his eyes with imaginary stars staring at him, sometimes Sebek was too overwhelming.

Sighing as he looked at Sebek and rolling his eyes at the green haired dragon's strong presence, the half-dragon fae let out a small snort as he listened to the strong praise and watched how hard Sebek tried to please him as he fed him breakfast. As he watched Sebek kneel on the ground after finishing with the table and the plates with food, Mall let out a small scoff.

"Very well, thank you, Sebek... you may go, I'm sure Silver will need help handling the demons in the pit..." He said, trying to get rid of him so that he would stop being too overwhelming; and be able to continue chatting with you without the stalker-like vigilance of the green-haired one.

"Your highness... You're telling me you don't want me here? WHAT AN HONOR TO HAVE YOUR DISGUSTING TOWARDS ME, MALLEUS-SAMA!! YOU CAN EVEN TREAD ON ME IF YOU WANT, I WOULD LOVE TO BE YOUR RUG FOR WHATEVER—" The Green-haired's cries of adoration ceased as Malleus swung his black claw and pulled him out of the garden and into the castle hallway. Still, the young dragon's cries could be heard. You laughed so hard at Sebek's own witticisms that the black-haired fae's bad mood was relieved.

"Sebek is funny, even though he's always nagging me..." You pout as Malleus smiles at you burying his face in your baby neck.

He sighs again as he hears Sebek's ramblings and praise in the background, letting out a small scoff. He chuckled under his breath when he heard you laugh, nodded and agreed with you.

"I know, he's a jerk... but at least he's a loyal jerk, I guess..." Whispered the fae as he wrapped his arms around you once more, burying his head in your small shoulder, enjoying your scent that reminded him of fresh roses.

Days later Malleus took you flying through the forest as it was like your birthday present, as you laughed in his arms, the first spring breeze hit your delicate face, Malleus spread his draconic wings taking you even higher in the air to enjoy the view without actually stepping on solid ground. He won't admit it but he doesn't want something else to catch your attention and make you want to go out more often. Your hands caress a cloud and the black-haired man sees you laugh which makes him happy.

"This is the best birthday ever!!!! Thank you Tsunotarou" Your eyes looked at him and at that moment it was just the two of you, something in Malleus started to resonate it was like a: 'Badump! Badump!' ...It was the beating of his heart that echoed in his ears, for the first time he knew what that was, the feeling longed for millennia and jealous of those who could feel it and experience it but now he finally felt it. You were the reason? He wondered, but at that moment he didn't care, he just closed his eyes letting himself go while holding you in his arms.

Malleus watched you with a fond smile on his face as he saw the way your eyes sparkled when the breeze hit your face, happily observing how you were thrilled by small things like clouds. He chuckled softly as he watched you laugh at the simple joy of being in heaven....

"Of course, of course... Anything for my little daughter of man..."

His eyes closed as he embraced you, feeling the gentle beat of his heart flutter in his chest, his heart beating for the first time in centuries like butterflies in full spring.

This moment was precious and although Malleus is not normally greedy, with you it is another case, he wants to have you and make you happy just like you do with your simplicity and innocence, his beautiful sleeping beauty.... The tulip in his garden of thorns.

"Tsunotarou! Look there— Is that me!!!? Woah, what a beautiful garden" Malleus smiled again seeing you excited, this is the special gift for you, in this forest there is a beautiful portrait made with so many flowers of so many colors and froms the air you can see it. So he wanted you to see how much he would give and do for you, for your smile and the feelings you make him feel, for what you are and represent in his life.

He tilted his head to look at the portrait of the flowering garden in question, a small smile on his face as he watched the colors come together and form a beautiful image from above. A small chuckle escaped his lips as he listened to you speak, his ears twitching at the way you seemed to be getting more and more excited.

"It's beautiful... Do you want me to take you and take a closer look at it, little one?" he said, flying a little lower now so he could take you there and let you see the flowers up close.

You both descended and immediately ran through the fields of flowers, like a princess in his eyes, the prince and wizard Fae-Dragon, moved his hands making your dress turn white as snow and floral decorations grew from it, then he made you float. and dance in the air as you laughed.

"LOUDER!!! YAY! WHAT FUN" The prince of Briar Valley continued to wiggle his fingers and watched you float away, then he pulled you close to his face and their noses touched, the magic was removed and with a kiss on your forehead, you fell asleep. Malleus had long since ceased to feel alone, much less hated and feared, only loved by the simplicity of a human, his human.

At the end of your birthday, the prince of thorns tucked you into your bed and before you went to sleep, you gave a thank you. "Thank you for everything Tsunotarou.... Good night."

Your smile faded as you slept, Malleus Sighed, leaving the room and walking to his own, the cold corridors smelled of wet earth and nature, his footsteps echoed against the aged stone until he reached the black door. The creaking reminded him of the years that passed and he never aged, his physical age stopped at his seventeen years. Upon entering, Malleus removed his clothes and then sank his body into the soft feather bed, his green eyes wandering to a shelf; There were all those gifts that to others are cheap trinkets made by the innocent hand of a girl like you, but to the Dragon Fae it was more than that, it felt special to receive them from the one he loved.

Malleus sat on the end of his bed for a second, his thoughts wandering as he looked at the items on the shelf. He couldn't help but feel warmth and happiness in his chest as he looked at the little trinkets... it brought a small smile to his face as he thought about how much happiness you brought him....

He lay fully back on the bed, resting his head on the pillows and pulling the covers over his shoulders, closing his eyes and letting the dreams take him soon....

And who knew that that nap of his would make the future of both of them turbulent, because Malleus fell into another one of his hibernations, besides, without anyone to wake him up with anti-sleep magic, he wouldn't be there for you. Lilia, Silver and Sebek would take a maximum of 4 months to return, the vast territory of the royal family of dragons and fairies had to be constantly supervised by many nobles and among them were the three close to Malleus.

After waking up, you went to look for him and excited, you opened his door running towards him and climbed into his soft, padded bed but Malleus was still asleep, even so you decided to move and pull his cheeks, talk to him or yell at him. but nothing happens, he still does not respond.

"Tsunotarou? Come on it's already daytime! it's not funny.... Ugh! Don't scare me, come on, wake up already! You're going to make me mad... Humm!" You started to hit him on the cheeks, You even lifted his eyelids but as soon as you removed your fingers they closed again and still it didn't work and you couldn't use your magic since it only worked on plants and to heal wounds. "I have another idea! I'll look for uncle Lilia, he might wake you up" Jumping out of bed you leave the royal room and head to your own, preparing your backpack to go in search of the old fae.

It was your first time out of the castle, you were scared and the monsters terrify you, but as Uncle Lilia once said, "Never forget to be protected, if you wear a dragon scale, no monster or weirdo will attack you given our essence! So don't forget to take one, even Mall would be happy to give it to you". And that's what you did, as Malleus wouldn't wake up even if you removed a black scale from his tail, so you would use it as a toll and scare the monsters away.

A while after walking, you ended up lost. Since you have never left the castle unless Malleus or another fae (except Silver, from what Sebek said, he is a human like you.) guides you, you would get lost on your own and that happened. Now you didn't know where to go.

"Phew, wasn't this the way? Maybe I should go back, but... Why are there three paths? I don't know anymore! I'm lost!". You cried in frustration and continue walking, if Malleus would complain about anything, it's your pride and stubbornness.

It wasn't long after you left the castle that you still couldn't find the right path. Unfortunately, without high-ranking magic, you were doomed from the start to get lost if this happened, especially since Malleus would normally be guiding you.

The dark wood were mostly silent, a few crickets chirping could be heard. Even your footsteps echoed and you didn't even want to think about other unknown sounds because it made you nervous and afraid. But the sounds of the crickets soon faded away, leaving you in silence as the sound of rustling leaves added to the sound of your beautiful magical sandals made of flowers and wood. Suddenly, a soft glow caught your attention.

You had reached the end of the forest and the sun was about to set, you were apparently in a part where the barrier of magical flowers and thorns was weaker, you also had the scale of Malleus in your possession, so when you followed the path fleeing from the darkness; the thorns and bushes parted, allowing you to pass as you sensed the magic in that scale inside your bag. The fresh air greeted you, you smiled believing that you would return to the castle but it was not so, as you barely took a few steps, a carriage passed by you and the person stopped to look at you, it was a humble peasant.

"Umm hey little girl, what are you doing on this side of the road? You don't know it, but there are ugly monsters roaming around."

"I don't know sir, but who are you and what are your names? I'm (T/N) and I'm looking for my uncle Lilia, I must wake up Tsunotarou or else he will sleep too much, so he won't be able to play with me" Facing your naivety, the farmer smiles and invites you to come up.

Since Lilia never explained to you about the dangers outside (thinking that because of Malleus' obsession with you, it would be impossible to escape) you continued talking to these strangers.

The farmer, as well as the person sitting in front with the horses, were both older adults, who were quite surprised to see a young girl like you wandering through the dark and dangerous forest with no parents or other people in sight, just you and the forest behind you.

They both see that you were hungry and tired, the farmer felt bad for you, nodding and smiling as they brought out some stale bread and water to let you eat something. The person in the wagon with the horses watched you intently. In the end you end up going out with them, not knowing that your innocence would bring chaos and that the carelessness of some would make many pay, even death will be a mercy rather than delayed suffering.

And so 4 months had passed, in that time the 2 faes and Silver returned from their duties, when they entered they were surprised to see the palace so... silent.

"Lilia-sama, I can't find the rambunctious human, I already searched every floor for her but there's no trace" Sebek said in alarm when even Lilia couldn't find you either.

Silver then cried out in surprise and somewhat worried, Malleus was in a state of hibernation earlier than expected, as normally dragons sleep 100 years but since he is half fairy, this time is maximum 50 years and it also depends on Malleus himself.

"No way, damn it, what are we going to do? Hurry Silver, go and get some chains, I need to wake him up but we mustn't just blurt out the news, Sebek gather everyone you can and look for her!" Lilia ordered as she bit his fingers cursing his luck. Once Silver finished binding Malleus, the old Fae put spells on the chains to at least hold some of the strength the Fae dragon prince possesses. In the end Malleus awoke with magic and the anti-sleep potion.

Malleus, dazed, opened his eyes after being suddenly awakened from his sleep, his senses immediately sought your presence again. The first thing he felt were the chains and spells on him, which irritated him, and as soon as he saw Lilia, his senses went on guard.

"Lilia...! What are all those chains and where did she go (Y/N)" His voice was soft but demanding, his cold, sharp eyes looked at the old Fae in front of him.

"First calm down Malleus, you are not in your five senses, I didn't think it would come to this but there was a mistake and we miscalculated your hibernation, so we left and 4 months passed. And sorry to tell you but (Y/N) is not here. I think she went out to look for me, from what the few creatures who saw her told me, I only know for sure that she left the magical forest and Briar Valley, heading for the human world, in that case we can't track her and the only one who can is Silver, so I sent him to look for her.. "

Malleus listened to him in silence, his calm and gentle expression slowly twisting into something much darker as he took in what Lilia was saying in his mind.

"You mean to tell me that you all left the castle without waking me up or leaving someone to take care of her?" The Raven-haired fae's voice was cold, his usually calm tone now filled with silent anger about to explode as he stared at Lilia for a second.

"Didn't any of you think that leaving a young woman home alone would end up with something like this.."

Lilia sighed just as frustrated, his cheerful and youthful demeanor left behind by his deadly and bitter self. "Look Malleus, I couldn't calculate the variables, you were supposed to hibernate until February but it was earlier than planned, I think the anti-sleep potion affects something in your hibernation states."

Lilia rubbed his nose septum in frustration. Malleus might have looked calm but his vacant stare and his vibrant emerald eyes with shrunken slits, said otherwise, he was overthinking everything.

"Can't you calculate the variables? I'm sure you have more than experience in dealing with issues revolving around me. You should know that this was a situation that had the possibility of happening, Lilia!"

Malleus' tone darkened with anger, he was beginning to blame Lilia even though he knew it wasn't entirely her fault, knowing that it is also his for constantly manipulating his sleep states making himself more unpredictable when it came to hibernating.

"She's going to be lost in a world that is cruel and uncaring... Who knows what has already happened in the last 4 months?"

Unfortunately for everyone and especially for Sebek, who interrupted them, receiving almost lethal green fire from Malleus narrowly burning the green-haired Fae but resulting in the burned wall and a prince who was still raging almost eager to release his dragon form, but Sebek caught their attention.

"Can you listen to me for a moment? As I said, I went to investigate and proudly I can say that this is the only thing he left..... I'm sorry Malleus-sama and Lilia-sama" Sebek bowed showing pieces of the torn dress the prince of Briar Valley had given you, and that infuriated Malleus more and from that anger he went to raw but horrible sadness, a silent one because the words got stuck in his throat and tears fell from his beautiful emeralds for eyes.

Malleus stared at the torn pieces of your dress, his eyes widening as the reality of the situation slowly hit him. A small trembling of his hand became noticeable, as his fists clenched tightly to where it hurt, his nails slowly digging into his own skin and drawing blood as he reared up savagely towards the Raven-haired fae taking the piece of cloth from him.

"No... She is still out there, we must look for her, I must— I MUST LOOK FOR HER!! Ah..., Sorry for that, please leave a time me alone."

His voice came out as a halting whisper, as he slowly closed his eyes... taking in what had just happened; the reality of what he had lost, the reality that he had lost you... of all things, losing you to him and his draconic heart was very devastating.

Lilia said nothing at the scene of his beloved ward and prince/monarch, so both Sebek and he let his process it all and so for a few days Malleus locked himself in his room without coming out, falling back into an abyss of loneliness and silent rage.

In the days that followed your disappearance, Malleus mourned your absence, spending his days trapped in his room, talking to no one if he could help it and only looking at the pieces of your dress... the only thing he had left of you or your scent.

The fae dragon spent most of his time pacing his room or sobbing on his bed sheets, crying his eyes out and hating himself for how he had handled things when he could have avoided them.

Mmmmmm

So this was love

Mmmmmm

So this was love

So this was what made life divine

I was glowing, mmmmmm

And now I know

The key to all heaven was mine

My heart had wings, mmmmmm

And I could fly

I touched every star in the sky, but no more

So this was my miracle?

That I've been dreaming, that I've lost

Mmmmmm

So this was love, but I won't feel anything, anymore

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cosmonadarovicarts · 8 months

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Theory: Carmilla would be Eve?

Among so many crazy theories (and I love it!) after this season, I'm going to bring my (crazy) theory. As the title already reveals, what if Carmilla Carmine was our missing Eve? Before you throw hate, here are some points:

-In some versions of the myth of the creation of Adam and Eve, Eve was condemned to hell (while Adam went to heaven). If the series goes down this path, the character wouldn't be in heaven;

-Carmilla's name: Originated from Hebrew culture. Carmila/Carmela/Carmilla/Carmile means garden, orchard. Well... I don't think it would be too much of a coincidence for the name to mean that (garden... Garden of Eden...).

-Eve was created from Adam's rib. Here I come up with the theory that the exorcist angels guided by Adam (including Vaggie) were created from his ribs (like Eve). This would explain the similarity in appearance of Vaggie, Lute and Carmilla.

--Carmilla's personality: she is super protective! The super mom of the series (so far). It is to be expected that Adam's second wife, mother of humanity, would be maternal./ "but she was presented as the mother of only two characters" man, she still seemed super worried about the day of extermination (she called a meeting with the Overlords precisely to think of ways to stop this), after all, the sinners were their descendants! (I'm not going to talk here about Adam's relationship with sinners, that would be worth another post) And, the same time, the exorcists would be like her sisters who she was reluctant to kill. I would also like to add here, I think Zestial could be Cain (one of his main sons and, precisely, the first sinner, as he killed his other brother Abel), this would explain the affection that Carmilla has for Zestial and for them both being the oldest Overlords! (Cain died before Eve in many versions of the myth) /Sure, they might just be good friends, but to me it made a lot of sense, my bad

-Her appearance: I've already commented on her resemblance to Vaggie (the two even duet two songs, expressing similar feelings), but now let's compare her appearance with her hair down with Eve's silhouette in the first episode (just look at the image I posted here) , it's identical! And of course, the second wife would have to be beautiful, and Carmilla is said to be beautiful.

--"ok but it is much more likely that she was one of the exorcist angels, taking into account her appearance and knowledge, why would Eve have an appearance similar to these angels?" Precisely because they came/were born from the same place, Adam's ribs! When Eve died, her demonic form still assumed that of a beautiful woman with large hands (representing her need to be able to hold, care for and hug everyone). Maybe Adam knew or didn't know how Eve was doing, and made his female army similar to his ex-wife (For me, this part would have several possibilities, like, him purposely making the appearance of the exorcists or it would just be because they were all born from the same place)

-In the final episode, when the news reports about what happened at the Hotel, the reactions of several characters appear, and there was one (emphasis?) in Carmilla's reaction to Adam's death (I imagine that, because she was against the extermination of sinners (her descendants) while her ex-husband, who lived in heaven, led this extermination, she should not have good feelings towards him).

Final note: Even if she is not Eve, probably she was one of the exorcist angels (as many already theorize), as she knew about the angelic weapons, knew of Vaggie's identity and her appearance.

(Sorry if there are a lot of grammatical errors, English is not my native language)

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nadjabea · 1 year

Text

Crowley and Aziraphale never broke up. The conversation we (believe to) see in the end is not the conversation they had.

Aziraphale and Crowley play their own game of spionage and sabotage - and talk about it while we all are watching.

Edit 10/22/23: This analysis needs to be updated because there is more evidence of the body swap and because of that some of my interpretations what they REALLY say is much more precise. Will do it soon.

My point is: Aziraphale communicated a plan in the confession scene – in the subtext. And it culminated in a full body switch.

How? They have thousands of years of practice of talking and signaling their next steps to each other in a way that would not be noticed by any bystander, even less by their respective headoffices. We have seen this in the Job minisode.

They use body language, signs and references to films, songs, everything their head offices won't understand because they lack the earthly knowledge.

Maybe Aziraphale and Crowley even had a back up plan before the Metatron entered the scene. Why I got this notion? Because after their conversation in the bar about Jane Austen, Aziraphale has adapted Crowley’s notion of Austen as a spy and the mastermind behind a bank robbery. Doesn’t this seem odd for the owner of a book shop? (There is this interesting theory of Crowley planning a heist and the turtle neck being Crowley’s “spy dress” by @justhereforthemeta

So here is my analysis/interpretation of the conversation they had.

Note: I am not a native English speaker, I am German. This might of course influence my interpretation of the conversation.

-> After he spoke to the Metatron, Aziraphale comes back to the bookshop and plays happy.

Just as Crowley starts to talk – Aziraphale knows he has to interrupt him.

Aziraphale's hands sign: Stop! First, he tries it soft, watches out of the window to indicate: "We are under supervision!" As Crowley doesnt pick it up, Aziraphale lifts his hands in front of his chest. So they are more visible. Still: Crowley does'nt get it.

Aziraphale: I have some incredibly good news. Uhm The Metatron. I don’t think he is as bad a fellow. Um. I think I might have misjudged him. (Incredibly good news! My ass! Look at my face. Do I look happy? THE METATRON!!! Be aware! He is much worse than I thought!”

While Aziraphae plays the happy and exited angel, he signs "Time out!". His smile is forced. He points into direction of heaven, looks out of the window and hopes Crowley will pick up: "SOS! We need a time out because we have to talk without heaven listening."

But Crowley is like a steam train: He is on his track to confess and does'nt get Aziraphale's distress.

Aziraphale parafrases the talk with the metatron. His body language indicates he is stressed, again and again he turns into the direction of window, his eyes are forced open. Crowley still does'nt get it.

Crowley: He said what?

Aziraphale: He said, I could appoint YOU (tumps to Crowley) to be an angel (it seems that Aziraphale's thumps point to himself). You could come back to heaven and everything. Like in the old times (the old times when we had to pretend to be apart, but in reality worked together and did each other’s work without heaven or hell noticing).

(I don’t think that Aziraphale refers to the pre-fall times because I don’t think Crowley and Aziraphale spent much time together than. Crowley was probably more a loner “minding his own business” or hang out with the wrong group, Lucifer and the gang. Aziraphale would have been much too afraid to spend time around the trouble maker angels.)

Aziraphale: Only even nicer (You know that I know that you hate nice! Come on, get it!)

As Aziraphale gets on with his “excitement” about the new job, Crowley still don’t seem to get the subtext. After Crowley tells him he said no to hell, Aziraphale escalates: He falls back to their "Kayfebe", their way to play that they are along the "party line". (For more on Kayfebe read this post of @nautilicious).

Aziraphae „But heaven. It’s the side of truth, of light, of good.“ Looks obviously into direction of the window as he plays a sharade for the metatron. (Crowley, you know that we settled for shades of grey! Get it, we are under attack! )

Crowley (still doesn’t get it): When heaven ends life here on earth it will be just as dead as if hell ended it. Tell me you said No.

Aziraphael turns his head into the direction of the window to show Crowley they are being observed.

Crowley: Tell me you said no.

Crowley starts to realise that they are in danger but still does not pick up the immediate threat from the Metatron. So he starts his confession but changes it to propose to run away. > You only need to run away if there is someone hunting you. So at least, he gets that now.

During Crowley's statement Aziraphale shakes his head. (we wil not be able to outrun heaven)

Aziraphale: Come with me. (Pause) To heaven. I’ll run it, you will be my second in command. (Crowley, follow my plan: Ill will run this command, you will be my agent in heaven.)

As a non native speaker I looked up the synonyms for “second in command”. They list “substitute”, “replacement” “sub-agent” and “agent”. Agent! Here we are with our spionage story. Jane Austen, the spy, smuggler and mastermind behind a bank robbery.

Crowley: You cant leave this bookshop. (Okay, I get what you mean. But, no, we cant be separeted! you cant leave me on my own - in (an ambessy of) heaven. - Another interpretation: It cant be you who leaves. You have to stay here. )

Aziraphale: Oh, Crowley, nothing lasts forever.

I think this is a code phrase of them. It might refer to a song which was in the charts in 1966/67:

“Nothing last forever” sung by Margaret Whiting, who was already popular in the 1940s.

These are the lyrics:

Now you're down and broken hearted

you have lost your lucky star

You are sure you have no future

You don't know how wrong you are.

Nothing lasts forever baby

Even pain and misery

All your tears will turn to laughter

Baby just you wait and see.

Nothing lasts forever...wait and see.

Now you've lost your only lover

Now your dreams are torn in two

You are sure you'll live in darkness

But the sun's gonna shine for you.

Nothing lasts forever baby

Even pain and misery

All your tears will turn to laughter

Baby just you wait and see.

Nothing lasts forever...wait and see.

Now you've got an inch to go

If you still be a mile

Now the bidder's calling you

Capture this to a smile

Now what seemed eternity

Was the sun in a while.

Nothing lasts forever baby

Even pain and misery

All your tears will turn to laughter

Baby just you wait and see.

Nothing lasts forever...wait and see.

Wait and see.

Nothing lasts forever baby

Even pain and misery

All your tears will turn to laughter

Baby just you wait and see.

Nothing lasts forever baby

Even pain and misery

All your tears will turn to laughter (fade)

Somehow I can imagine that Crowley liked this song and they listened to it together in the bookshop. So he knows the lyrics - and gets what Aziraphale tries to tell him.

Crowley: No. No. Don’t suppose it does.

He puts on his glasses to hide his tears but also because now he has to pretend. And he has the need to cover his eyes when he lies. You can see this in the 1941 minisode. While he watches Aziraphale perform the coin trick, Crowley led his glasses slide down his nose and you can see his eyes. But the second he starts lying to Aziraphale about him being a professional magician Crowley puts his glasses up und covers his eyes.

So Crowley starts to go along with Aziraphale's plan, plays to be reluctant - which he probably still is. He doesn’t want to go to heaven, considers Aziraphales plan probably to be a - to use the German expression - “Himmelfahrtskommando” which means literally “a squat that goes to heaven = a suicide squat) - Another interpretation: Maybe he doesnt want Aziraphale to go to heaven?

Crowley: Good luck.

Aziraphale: Crowley, come back. Work with me (I have got a plan, trust me and work with me). We can be together. Angels (you can have my body. So you will be an angel.) Doing good (saving earth and us) - I need you. – I don’t think you understand what I am offering you (Are you really that daft?)

Crowley: I understand. And I understand a whole lot better than you do. (Heaven, hell, I have been there. And it is me that has to go to heaven now. And I don’t like it. - And it's you that will go to hell instead of me. And I dont like it either)

Aziraphale: Well, than there is nothing more to say. (If you understand that I am offering you to posses my body, than do it)

Crowley: Do you hear that?

Aziraphale: I don’t hear anything. (Come on!)

Crowley: That’s the point. No nightingales (neither in heaven nor in hell).

“No nightingales” can have several meanings.

a) It's their song. The symbol of their love. There is no love in heaven, nor in hell.

b) The nightingale sings to protect clandestine love. Now they are not any longer under the protection of the night and the nightingale. Their love is laid open and we know what happened to Romeo and Juliet when the nightingale stopped singing.

c) Someone here on tumblr pointed to a novel called “No nightingales”. There is movie from 1947 that is based on this novel. In Wikipedia you can find this synopsis:

“In the 18th Century, Burlap and Kelsoe are officers in the army of Queen Anne who have recently retired and purchased a house on Berkeley Square. At a house-warming party the pair speculate how to win the war however they learn that the Duke of Marlborough has other plans that will lead to the Battle of Malplaquet. Believing the battle will end in slaughter they hatch a plan to capture Marlborough and hold him prisoner until the threat of hostilities passes. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Ghosts_of_Berkeley_Square

Problem is: They are not at all competent and get killed bevor they could prevent the war. So they are cursed to be ghosts until a member of the royal family visits their house.

So could they plan the kidnapping of the Metatron or even God herself? Hold that thought! I definitly will think about that as a plot for season 3.

Crowley: You idiot. We could have been US. (Why did you have to get yourself associated with Gabriel? We could have led our own lifes, in our own bodies)

The kiss - and the body swap /posession

It is not a kiss to show they love each other, it is a kiss to mask the body possession, they exchange their essences

@doctorscienceknowsfandom has laid down already a lot of hints and signs Neil Gaiman planted in the open in the meta "Banana Fish Gorilla Shoelace with a dash of nutmeg" that Crowley and Aziraphale changed bodies.

@lonicera-caprifoliumhas some more hints.

Here are even more points that indicate: they have changed.

When the kiss ends "Aziraphale" cries und when "Crowley" leaves he touches his lips and his hands are shaking.

Several people already pointed out the face, the movement of the jaw and so on: This is Michael Sheen’s Crowley. I think the shaking and the tears are another hint that this is Crowley. Why? Until now we have only seen the hands of one of them shaking on screen: Crowley’s, in the 1941 minisode. Crowley’s hands are shaking if he is under pressure, and overwhelmed. Aziraphale on the other side seems to get nerves of steal when he has to perform (his tricks only work when it counts).

There are even more hints that they have changed their bodies:

“Crowley” is standing upright at the Bentley. He doesn’t move his body, he doesn’t move his face. Something that is so NOT Crowley, who is always in motion.

Also: Remember the first episode when Crowley and Aziraphale fought over Gabriel. Aziraphale told Crowley that he can leave when he doesn’t want to help and Crowley couldn’t contain his rage about that. He was fuming and throwing lightnings – all visible in the middle of the street, surrounded by humans (!). All because of a fight that – in retrospective – was much less threatening to their relationship and their lives.

In a script there is nothing without meaning. And I can’t discover any other meaning for the scene in which Crowley throws lightnings after a fight with Aziraphale than to show that the scene in the end was not a fight.

Hence: There is no way that the real Crowley would be that calm in the last scene. Crowley has much less control over his emotions than Aziraphale.

And even if it was Crowley at the Bentley and managed calmly to watch Aziraphale leave. He would not be able to contain himself after Aziraphale was in the lift. Once in his car (his save space) he would release his anger and pain. Crying, shouting, maybe even hitting the steering wheel, he would drive away as fast as possible screaming at an invisible Aziraphale because this might give him some relive.

But what do we see? A very contained demon.

Next evidence: The colour code of Aziraphale (yellow) and Crowley (red):

When “Aziraphale” is on screen people wear red. When “Crowley” is on screen a lot of people in yellow pass.

And even the plants in the Bentley appear to have changed to yellow. Bonus: A yellow flower blooms behind “Crowley”. Hence: It has to be Aziraphale.

So: Why would Neil Gaiman use the same trick twice?

Because it isn’t the same trick.

In S1 they changed their appearance. Aziraphale presenting as Crowley is still an angel. Therefore immune against holy water. Crowley presenting as Aziraphale is still a demon, immune against hellfire.

But this time, I think, they really posses the body of the other (wow, they really have come a long way from “What a pity you cant have my body” – “Angel, demon, probably would explode” ).

So, what does this mean? Angel and demons are from the same flock. It is impossible to distinguish them, except for the marks on their bodies. Now Aziraphale is indistinguishable able from the other demons, Crowley indistinguishable from the other angels.

This raises the stakes when it comes to “The Second Coming”.

And this explains Crowleys worried face: He knew about the planes for Armaggedon 2.0,the destruction of earth.

The "Second Coming" is different. It is about judgement.

In the end everyone is going to be judged. The righteous will go to heaven, the other are cast away, extint. So what about an angel in the body of a demon? You see where I am heading ...

There is a lot to explore. The concept of "pretend to be good" and "properly good" and much much more. I will write about it another time.

Now I am curious: Am I delusional? Cant I just cope with the break up? What do think? Tell me you views. Let us discuss.

#good omens #aziraphale #crowley #good omens analysis #good omens meta #good omens theory #good omens spoilers #good omens theories #good omens season 2 #goodomens #neil gaiman #nothing lasts forever #body switch #body swap #aziracrow #azicrow #antony j crowley #ineffable divorce

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pandapetals · 5 days

Text

Slim Pickens

logan howlett x afab!reader- angsty, reader lowkey hates logan, inspired by sabrina carpenter's song slim pickens

read on Ao3

Without a doubt, you knew you were going to end up alone. The thought crept in after every disappointing date, every one-night stand that left you cold, every late-night text that led nowhere. All the guys you met were the same—douchebags with oversized egos and nothing real to offer. It was a pattern you couldn't break, a cycle that seemed destined to repeat. Why was it so hard to find a decent guy?

You didn’t even need perfect. You weren’t looking for some fairy-tale romance or a knight in shining armor. You just wanted someone who didn’t make you feel like you were settling for less than you deserved.

Then there was Logan.

You’d sized him up the moment you met him—jacked, rough around the edges, with a perpetual scowl and a short temper to match. He walked like he owned the room, his shoulders tense, his eyes dark, and he had the kind of attitude that practically screamed “trouble.” You’d rolled your eyes so hard it hurt, dismissing him in an instant. He wasn’t your type. You knew his kind. And after a few clipped conversations, you were more than certain Logan was exactly the kind of guy you couldn’t stand.

“Douchebag,” you’d muttered after he’d walked off from another pointless exchange.

And you didn’t hold back either. You bitched and complained about him to anyone who’d listen—Charles, Scott, Storm, anyone within earshot of your growing frustration.

“He’s impossible,” you’d said one night over beers with Storm, your voice rising with indignation. “He’s not a team player, doesn’t listen to anyone, and doesn’t even get me started on his attitude. You know what he said to me earlier?”

Storm had given you a knowing look but let you rant anyway. Everyone had opinions about Logan, after all. He was easy to dislike, a ball of raw energy, constantly on the edge of something dark and dangerous.

“He’s just... ugh,” you groaned, running a hand through your hair. “I don’t get why anyone puts up with him.”

But deep down, beneath all the complaining, something gnawed at you. Something you didn’t want to admit.

You hadn’t seen it right away—not until one mission changed everything.

It had been chaotic, a nightmare situation where nothing went as planned. The team had been dispatched to rescue a group of mutant kids who had been captured by some underground militia. The operation had gone sideways almost immediately. You’d been cornered, pinned down by enemy fire, your heartbeat thrumming in your ears as panic crept in. And then—Logan.

You saw him, right in the thick of it, moving with a kind of brutal precision that took your breath away. He tore through the enemy lines like it was nothing, claws flashing, his eyes wild and fierce. But what caught you wasn’t the violence—it was the way he threw himself into the rescue without a second thought. No hesitation, no fear, just pure instinct as he fought his way to those kids.

The moment you saw him lift one of the terrified children into his arms, shielding them from harm with his own body, something inside you shifted. He wasn’t careful, wasn’t gentle, but there was a raw protectiveness in his actions that hit you like a punch to the gut.

You watched him take down another wave of attackers, blood streaking his face, his body moving like a machine—powerful, unrelenting. And then, as he brought the last of the kids to safety, something unexpected flared in your chest.

Respect.

He was more than your first impression.

You didn’t want to admit it, but Logan wasn’t just the hot-tempered, arrogant jerk you’d made him out to be. There was something deeper there, something you’d been too quick to write off. The way he fought, the way he protected those kids, the way he seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders without ever asking for help—it unsettled you. Because it meant you’d been wrong about him.

Being wrong about Logan was a lot more dangerous than you wanted to acknowledge.

Days passed after that mission, but you couldn’t shake the image of him—the way he’d looked standing there, bloodied but unbroken, with a kid clinging to him like he was some kind of savior. The frustration you felt toward him softened, and changed. You found yourself noticing things about him you hadn’t before. The way his gruffness wasn’t just aggression, but a shield. The way he stayed on the fringes of the group, never quite fitting in, but always there when it mattered.

You didn’t complain about him as much after that. You didn’t have much to say when Scott made some offhand comment about Logan’s attitude or when Storm chuckled about his lone-wolf tendencies. Instead, you found yourself defending him in small, subtle ways, even if it was just a quiet “He gets the job done.”

It was a shift you didn’t want to admit, but one that was impossible to ignore. The more you tried to fight it, the more you felt the pull.

And Logan—he noticed.

You’d catch him watching you now, his dark eyes lingering longer than before, his smirk a little less cocky, a little more curious. He never said much, never one for words, but there was something in the way he looked at you that made your pulse quicken.

One night, after a particularly long and exhausting mission, you found yourself alone with him in the briefing room. Everyone else had already left, and you were sorting through some files when Logan approached, his boots heavy on the floor. You didn’t look up, but your body tensed, already attuned to his presence.

“You were good out there,” he said gruffly, voice low and gravelly.

You glanced up, surprised by the unexpected compliment. “Thanks,” you muttered, unsure how to respond. Compliments weren’t his style, and it threw you off balance.

Logan leaned against the table, arms crossed, watching you with that unreadable expression of his. “You’re not as annoying as I thought,” he added, the slightest hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You rolled your eyes, but your lips twitched with a reluctant smile. “High praise coming from you.”

He shrugged, his gaze never leaving yours. “Just callin’ it like I see it.”

For a moment, neither of you said anything, the air thick with something that felt different now. Less hostile, more... charged. You didn’t know what to do with it, and this new dynamic was between you. It wasn’t the same as before, but you weren’t sure what it was either.

Logan pushed off the table and started to walk away, but then paused, looking back at you over his shoulder. “See you around, kid.”

You scoffed, but there was no real heat behind it. “I’m not a kid, Logan.”

His smirk deepened, eyes gleaming with something almost playful. “Yeah. I know.”

Just like that, he was gone, leaving you standing there with your heart pounding harder than it should have been, your mind racing with thoughts you weren’t ready to unpack.

Logan wasn’t perfect. Hell, he was far from it. Maybe there was more to him than you’d given him credit for.

That scared you more than anything.

#wolverine #x men wolverine #james logan howlett #logan howlett #logan howlett x you #x men logan #logan xmen #logan x reader #fluff #cute #marvel #mcu #sabrina carpenter

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goldsbitch · 8 months

Text

That next Christmas flight

epilogue p.1 to That one Christmas flight

summary: Few months down the line, Y/N is getting onto the same Christmas flight as a completely changed girl.

warning: cheesy af, swear words I guess, cliche probably, typos most definitely

Another Christmas flight. Traditions linger long and strong no matter how much one tries to resist. It's been a year precisely since the last flight that had turned her life upside down and Y/N found herself standing at the same airport where she shared a first kiss with Lando. Except this time she was thrown off for a completely less glamorous reason, sitting all confused and looking at the cancelled note next to her flight number on the departure board. She was just one of the other anxious annoyed passangers, trying to figure out how to get to Japan on time. Her mom hated when people were late. And she was sure she'll find a way to blame it on her. Bad planning, she'd always say. Love comes in different flavors to anyone, Y/N sighed, looking forward to seeing her mom after so many months, which had brought a rollercoaster of unexpected emotions.

She has had the summer of her life, hard to imagine something topping this one. The ultimate love affair - exciting, sweet and eye opening. Made her question everything she thought about adult life. All those love song suddenly made sense. She understood why people do crazy things for love. There wasn't a cell in her body regretting getting her summer and early September got stolen by one guy. It would not have mattered if he was a server from a local café or a tattoo artist, he just happened to be one of the most famous racing drivers on the planet. She had followed him around his trips as long as her school schedule allowed, making new friends in the process and generally exploring a different way of life. Sometimes, she had to stop in order to take it all in, because his world shined just a little too bright. It took all of her free time to keep up. Once summer rolled to its very end, it started being harder for the pair. Coming back to the school environment was somewhat of a culture shock and suddenly her having her own life was making it harder to drop everything and meet him at yet another race track around the world. Their schedules seemed to be working against each other. Late night cuddles turned into late night / morning calls. Summer romance got a real hard test that October and was forced to mature real quick. And sadly, very few love affairs manage to survive this leap.

There are little things that people in love do for each other. One does not often realize that the other person had been doing these mundane gestures until they are out of sight. Lando would always put Y/N's airpods on the charger when they were together, because he knew that she would just never do that and then would complain about it endlessly. He was even looking forward to the annoyed text she'd send him two days after they parted, almost on the clock. Y/N never learned. Nor did she want to.

Y/N airpods were sitting in the pocket of her coat. Fully charged. Lando and Y/N had never spent more time together than this winter break. After few rough weeks, they got used to the changing tone of their relationship. She finally met his family and spent few very fun days at their house. Lando made fun of her afterwards, because she had been so nervous to fuck it up. He never doubted that she would do a good impression - he loved too much to think that.

Pair of hands hugged her from behind and the familiarity kicked in.

"Thought you got lost, honey," she greeted her boyfriend and potentially the love of her life (spoiler alert - yes, he really was).

"I actually kind of did, I'm sure there must be a bathroom closer that all the way back that hallway," he said, kissing her cheek softly. She was taking him home to Japan to get him introduced to her mom, which made him the proudest guy at that airport. He was worthy of getting introduced and to him, that was the biggest compliment one could give. It had been quite a hectic Christmas break for Lando so far, if he were to be honest, he was happy to get few hours alone with Y/N. On the outside, he was this cool racer chill dude. But he was also a sappy romantic, absolutely insisting on having them celebrate their anniversary on the same flight. Y/N grounded him, kept him at bay in the best way possible. He felt like the best version of himself. Which was also what he told her when they almost broke up over the phone one confusing November night. Their relationship was cut with difficult conversations and the need to untangle things, but it was strangely something Lando loved about their relationship. No stones left untouched, caring so much about each other that any shift in energy was a signal to the other party. Y/N taught him to notice things. He pushed her into making her feelings known.

"My love, our flight is cancelled for today," she said softly, not really knowing what to do. Lando usually had his travel booked by the team, so he was surprisingly not very skilled in booking things anymore. But he longed for any possibility to be the hero that saved the day, so he got to the counter and got them on tomorrow's flight, with an overnight at a hotel.

Y/N let out a sigh once he told her that there is currently no other option. She just wanted to be at her mom's place and show Lando off, like a proper proud girlfriend she was.

"I'm sorry, honey," he said, caressing her cheek. "I'll make sure you have an absolutely amazing evening with me, ok? Honestly, getting to spend an extra night with you alone is the best thing I could wish for." She looked at him and there was not a single cell in her body that would doubt what he was telling her. Even after months, every time Lando looked at her, her heart skipped a beat. Every time he embraced her, she completely melted. His skin still felt like the softest thing on this planet. His eyes were the bluest of green that had her mesmerised whenever he shared a glance at her. "There is nothing better I could wish for Christmas either," she said, kissing him softly. "Let's get to the hotel, give your mom a quick call, order a champagne and cuddle without letting anyone else know we're still in England," he whispered like a little devil on her shoulder.

"Hm, maybe we can cuddle like really fast," she insunuated, setting Lando's imagination on fire.

"I have many ideas, honey."

"Good, write them down."

"This will hardly ever skip my mind," Lando laughed lightly and the pair took off, with him having his shoulder around her, both of them hiding their faces under a cap. They soft launched their relationship in the middle of the summer, but there was still a cloud of mystery around Y/N, as she had made sure to set her socials on private. No more of a little secret hidden in a hotel room. Still, privacy was an important thing to the pair, that's why there was a whole fake social media trip happening for Lando right now to redirect attention.

So there they were, toasting with the same champagne a year later, lives intertwined and with their own set of Christmas traditions forming. Two young people with souls still undamaged by the tragedies of life, two young people not realizing how light and magical part of their life they got to call today and tomorrow. Next time you're flying somewhere, don' be a chicken and talk to your hot neighbor on the plane. You never know.

____________________________________________

personal note: thank you so much for all the support you guys gave me for this one, it has grown into my favorite story so far - mainly because I got to put in my own memories and feelings from when I accidentally started dating a semi famous sports guy while having no idea who he was, lol. it was in no way lando level kind of famous, but still, it is a great memory, so thank you for reliving it with me.

there will be blurbs of these two coming in the future, but i wanted to tie the main story to an end. but I can't wait to write more, so i'll be more than happy if you come back for some snap shots of their little moments. thank you - smutty epilogue p2. is on the way

Tagged all those who like to suffer: @prudyhoo @anuksunamon @sagestack @esquerkaren @ushygushybaby @ilove-tswizzle @thehufflepuffavenger1 @superlegend216 @mehrmonga @lovely-blackinnon @mylifeihate1029 @lausdigitaldiary @tswizzleismother @goldenharrysworld @llando4norris @classiclitfreak @ophcelia @leclerc13 @starmanv @k4r1402 @biitch-with-wifi @drunk-teens-doing-drugs @starmanv @formulaal @scenesofobx

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erikahenningsen · 1 month

Note

Rejanis idea that's been floating around my head if you want it: Gretchen shares her "Songs Regina Hates" playlist with Janis. Janis plays it whenever she wants to annoy Regina (often).

"Ew, what the fuck is this?"

"You've never heard 'Don't Stop Believin''?" Janis asks, a little incredulously.

Regina cuts her eyes to Janis briefly before turning back to the road. "Of course I've heard it. Why are we listening to it?"

"Do you not like it?"

"No. Change it."

Janis bites her lip to keep from laughing, and hits the skip button on her Spotify playlist—the one Gretchen had shared with Janis when Janis and Regina started dating so she would know what not to play around Regina. The one titled "Songs Regina Hates." The one Janis has been waiting for the precise right time to play.

There's some big accident on I-90, which has resulted in bumper-to-bumper traffic. They're going to be in this car for the foreseeable future, and they're barely moving, which means that, if necessary, Janis can open the door and roll out before Regina can kill her.

The opening notes of "Mambo No. 5" start playing and Regina visibly grinds her teeth.

"Next," Regina says shortly.

Dutifully, Janis skips to the next song: "Uptown Funk."

Regina turns to fully look at Janis, eyebrows knitted together and mouth tense. "What the fuck is this playlist?"

"Just some of my favorite songs," Janis replies, clenching the muscles in her stomach to keep from laughing.

"These are not your favorite songs, you hipster bitch," Regina shoots back.

"You don't know everything about me," Janis says.

Regina lets out a big sigh, like the fact that Janis is still alive and in Regina's presence is some enormously burdensome gift. "Just... change it."

"You got it," Janis says enthusiastically, hitting the skip button and letting Ed Sheeran's "Thinking Out Loud" play.

Before Janis can blink, Regina's hand shoots out and snatches Janis's phone out of her hand.

"Hey!" Janis protests, reaching for it.

Regina knocks her hand away. "Janis, stop. I'm driving."

"You took my phone," Janis says incredulously.

Regina ignores her, looking at the screen. "'Songs Regina Hates'? What the fuck is this? Are you so obsessed with me that you keep track of the music I don't like?"

"The only person obsessed with you is you," Janis says, grabbing the phone back.

"Says the person who texted me I can't stop thinking about you this morning," Regina replies, eyebrow raised.

"You've literally texted me the words I'm obsessed with you." Janis crosses her arms.

"I said I was obsessed with your boobs, not you."

In retaliation, Janis changes the song to "Old Town Road."

"Who the fuck made this?" Regina demands, reaching out to whack Janis on the arm without looking away from the road.

"I was sworn to secrecy," Janis insists, dodging the hit.

Regina narrows her eyes. "I'll find out."

It's probably meant to sound threatening—and it probably would be, to someone else—but Janis just rolls her eyes.

"Can we please listen to some normal music," Regina says exasperatedly.

"Okay," Janis says in a mock-defeated tone.

About ten seconds into "Lose Yourself" by Eminem, Regina reaches out and presses a few buttons on the console, disconnecting Janis's phone from the bluetooth.

"Hey!" Janis cries. "That's so rude."

Regina cuts her a withering look. "Second option was throwing your phone out the window."

Janis huffs out a breath, irritated despite the fact that she was deliberately annoying Regina for her own amusement.

Regina glances at her, looking amused. "Don't pout."

"I'm not pouting," Janis denies. "You're just mean to me."

Regina's smile morphs into something different, something almost... predatory.

"I'm not mean," Regina says. "In fact, I'm very generously going to give you a chance to make it up to me when we get home."

Janis frowns, confused. "Make what up to you?"

"Allegedly enjoying the worst songs known to humanity."

Janis snorts. "I'm sooo sorry."

Regina reaches over and places a possessive hand on Janis's leg, fingers digging into the inside of her thigh. It makes Janis shiver, and, judging by her smirk, Regina notices.

Regina gives Janis a look that makes little sparks zip down her spine.

"You better be."

#rejanis #mean girls #mean girls 2024 #mean girls the musical #mean girls musical #mean girls broadway #regina x janis #regina george #janis 'imi'ike #janis imi'ike #janis ian #janis sarkisian #ask #anonymous #prompts #this is so silly. soo silly #love any opportunity for them to annoy each other #i think mambo no. 5 genuinely makes regina want to kill herself

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mirohlayo · 9 months

Text

POV | CL16

inspired by the song pov - ariana grande

( you can feel insecure, as long as charles loves you you'll always remains as the most beautiful person in the world. )

warning : insecurity, just fluff

note : i was supposed to write this for lando but i just like writing charles and music together sooo... also a bit short sorry

word count : 611

!! english not my first language !!

there are some days when you feel bad. those days when the mirror seems to reflect your weaknesses and your insecurities. these gloomy and bland days which eat away at you from the inside, deepening a little more the unhappiness you already feel.

when your eyes scanned your body and your face, shame anchored in your pupils. when you scrolled through the pretty photos of the models, comparing yourself to them. you kept thinking about why he chose you and not someone else?

why you ?

you were sabotaging yourself. you had these low moments, you hated yourself, you no longer wanted to exist. you became the person you hated most in the world. you refused to love yourself. so he decided to do it for you. he decided to love you, and to teach you to love yourself. to give you this chance to discover yourself in a new light, to show you how divinely beautiful you are inside and out. because from his point of view, he loved you just the way you were.

he knows you perfectly, he knows that you are not grateful to yourself. it's like that, made of glass the way he sees through you. he knows you better than you do. deeply, he feels it inside him, and it tortures him to know that you don't value yourself the way he does.

and that's why every day, every hour, every minute, he reminds you how important and precious you are.

those mornings when you wake up and when he keeps telling you that you are beautiful, even if you look tired. when you look at yourself in the mirror a little too long and he kisses you softly, listing all the little things he adores physically from you.

when you suddenly stop rambling because you think you're too talkative, and he admits to you that he could listen to you talk for hours without ever getting tired of it. the times when you feel weak and he comes to dry your tears, whispering to you how strong a person you are. he loves you like that. he loves you because you are you.

you wanna love you the way he loves you. you'd love to see you from his point of view. you wanna trust you the way he trusts you. nobody ever loved you like he does. that's why you'd love to see you from his point of view.

because he truly loves you. for who you are. and all you want is to see yourself from his perspective, just to understand why he cares so much about you. despite your flaws, despite your ugly.

but that’s precisely why he loves you so much. because from his point of view, all of your pretty and all of your ugly are precious. they are the most beautiful things that constitute you and make you so unique. he will cherish it as much as necessary. until you finally love yourself as he loves you infinitely.

and you'll learn how to be grateful for yourself. you'll learn how to love you the way he loves you, how to trust you the way he trusts you. cause nobody ever loved you the way he does. so that's why you genuinely want it. that's why you'd love to see you from his point of view.

to finally see that from his perspective, you are the most beautiful person on earth. that you shine like the sun and the moon. that you are as beautiful as spring flowers. as soft as the first snowflakes.

yes, this is charles' point of view : the best glimpse of the true beauty of yourself.

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #cl16 x reader #cl16 imagine #charles leclerc

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sophswritingthings · 10 months

Text

pairing: modern au!mizu x fem!nurses assistant!reader

warning(s): light swearing, your boyfriend is an absolute shitbag but it’s okay mizu’s here <3

a/n: mizu is better than your boyfriend

word count: 496 words / 2,685 characters

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“(y/n),” mizu glanced at you. you cocked your head between bites of your good, “why are you still dating him?”

your a bit stunned at her question. what a question it was.

“well, I—“ you couldn’t think of the words.

you actually didn’t have an answer. there was no probable reason for you his stay with him.

“I don’t know,” you finally managed to say, the words quiet.

“then.. why don’t you just—“ she couldn’t believe she even bringing this up to you, “leave him?”

you glanced at her for a minute, before sighing and gazing at the grass below you.

“you’re probably right,” you murmur. “but staying with him is all I have.”

her body burned with anger at your words—all you had? when she was sitting right here.

she didn’t want to argue you—especially considering it would expose her in the process.

“.. right,” she muttered. “but you deserve to be happy.”

you leaned to rest your head on her shoulder, “I know.”

she twitched at the action, but she didn’t tell you to move. you stayed there, so comfortable you’d almost fall asleep.

until your boyfriend came to pick you up, that was.

you bid her goodbye with a smile, sliding into the passengers seat beside him.

she sighed, getting to her feet and heading to her own car. she couldn’t bare to see you caring about some douchebag of a guy.

she watched with hawk like precision, as you talked with the guy she so hated.

she was sitting by herself, in the cafe—she usually did, seeing as ever since you got with that asshole you sat with and his shitty friends. she knew she could treat you much better than he could, by a long shot.

yet…

the conversation didn’t seem to be going very well.

your face scrunched up in frustration, your eyebrows furrowed.

“I can’t believe this shit! again?” you yelp above all of the noise, “you cheated on me. with her. again! you know what?” you scoffed, shaking your head and grabbing your things.

“I’m done,” you hissed, flipping him off as you walked toward her table. you sighed as you sat, “I’m not even surprised.”

“.. me either,” she whispered. she didn’t want to make it sound like you were stupid—you weren’t. when it came to choices of partners..

.. maybe a little.

she decided to just go for it. she didn’t mean to jump on you the minute you broke up with your boyfriend—but she did want to make you feel better.

“you deserve to be treated better,” she wraps an arm around your shoulders, tugging your body into hers.

“.. I do,” you whispered.

“I could do that for you,” she replied, trying to sound as confident as possible as she said the words.

“.. oh.” you adverted your eyes, “h-how so?” your eyes locked onto hers.

“come on,” she slowly got up from the table, swinging her keys around her fingers, “I’ll show you.”

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a/n: two song rec’s for this one: first of all, boyfriend by dove cameron of course. and second, better than your boyfriend by lauren sanderson (actually that whole ep is so mizu, I’ll just link that)

@toobytub here ya go <3

#mizu x you #mizu x reader #mizu blue eye samurai #mizu #blue eyed samurai #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #tag #request #fic request #x reader

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theamberfist · 3 months

Text

It's Tough to be a Teacher | Alastor x Teacher! Reader

Platonic! Alastor + Best Friend! Teacher! Reader

Description: You and Alastor have been best friends since you were alive; where you two served as a murderous radio-host-and-kindergarten-teacher duo. Now, your refusal to become an overlord and protect yourself in hell causes Alastor to come up with a plan to convince you; for your own safety.

(Notes: CW Alastor, mentions of cults)

❀ We've got a song in this one! (Sometimes I like to write in songs I find if they fit the scene since Hazbin Hotel is a musical after all!) ❀

Words: 4,243

Alastor was someone who absolutely thrived in hell. With almost no consequences for any of his actions, he could kill, torture, or eat anyone he wanted. It was no surprise to you that he'd risen to be one of hell's strongest overlords in such a short time after his death.

You'd also been dead by then. In fact, you'd been killed off long before he had when your crimes in life were discovered. Alastor, upon arriving in hell years later, had informed you that he'd gotten revenge on those responsible for your death in the most brutal, bloody way possible; just as a best friend should, and he'd been making a name for himself here ever since with your support.

You were under the impression that you thrived in hell, too. However, since you had absolutely no interest in becoming an overlord, this sense of safety and contentment you felt was really thanks to your best friend's protection. There were few in hell who would mess with the Radio Demon, and even fewer that would have risked harming you and incurring his wrath when the two of you were always seen together.

But that didn't mean there weren't any at all.

Since his debut as an overlord, Alastor had caused many of hell's strongest to go missing, where he broadcasted their screams of pain and torment for all to hear. As it turned out, many of those missing overlords happened to be connected to not-yet-missing ones, who would then take it upon themselves to exact their revenge upon him. And more recently, that meant going after the closest person to him, you, as an eye-for-an-eye sort of situation.

He hated it. Even more so because you could have easily become just as powerful as him if you wanted to. You'd been a killer in life too and you certainly had the stomach to deal in souls, but every time he brought the topic up, you refused it.

Your murders had always had a strict moral code to them when you were alive. The pattern had been what ultimately alerted the New Orleans police that you were a suspect and got you caught in the end. You only ever killed those that you had deemed deserving of it based on a list of circumstances and traits. In short, you'd been trying to make a positive impact on the world in your own twisted way by killing off people you considered bad.

In fact, you met Alastor precisely because of your little 'good deeds,' as you'd referred to them at the time. You had been in the woods burying a body, only for him to be out hunting at the same time. Surprised by the presence of another person, he'd come over to strike up a conversation and the rest was history. You'd been best friends ever since because, ironically, Alastor had never met your qualifications for a truly 'bad' person.

Together, you two were a radio host and kindergarten teacher duo by day, but a pair of serial killers by night; both very notorious for your crimes.

And yet, when you'd arrived in hell, you'd seen no point in becoming an overlord. Why own the souls of other sinners? It wasn't like you wanted to become some sort of god and the way you saw it, you could protect yourself just fine without that extra power (though, Alastor would have begged to differ on that point, considering it was usually his power protecting you without your knowledge). So every time he tried to suggest you join him in his path, you'd politely but adamantly refused.

Which was why he was now left at a loss for what to do. Sighing, the Radio Demon slumped in his seat as he stared down at the 'coffee' in front of him. He'd come down to Cannibal Town since they had some of the best cafe's in hell and a warm drink had always helped him think better.

He could continue to protect you the way he currently was just fine, of course, but should he ever not be physically present, and an overlord that was on the stronger side showed up, he wasn't as confident in the fact that you'd get out unscathed.

The Radio Demon had never worried for another person to this extent in his life or afterlife, but it seemed his best friend was one of few exceptions to that. After all, without you, who would he share endless hours of gossip with when even Rosie was busy? Who else in hell had he known in life that didn't constantly ask him for favors the way Mimsy did? Who else had quietly listened to his broadcasts every day while their kindergarteners took their afternoon naps in the classroom?

No matter what you said, he refused to allow you to come to any harm if he could prevent it. Whether he liked it or not, you were too much of an important aspect in his life for him to even risk that. For heaven's sake, you had hardly even committed a single crime since arriving in hell of all places because you claimed "everyone here was probably a bad person" and that you "couldn't actually kill them anyway so what was the point?"

So it was Alastor's concern for your safety that finally brought him out of the cafe and on a walk through the cannibal colony in the hopes of coming up with a solution. If he couldn't get you to become an overlord, perhaps there was some other way to ensure your safety down here. Could you make a deal with someone in higher standing? Sneak into heaven? Get a job working for Lucifer, if you had to?

Luckily, he didn't have to ponder long, because as he walked, he passed by a group of what looked like young adult sinners all resembling various animals. They were gathered in an alleyway and huddling like a sports team might before a big game, and since they weren't doing anything that particularly irritated him, he nearly passed them by without a second thought.

...Until he heard them say your name. Well, it was your last name; they'd referred to you the way your kindergarteners might have, back when you were alive.

Alastor froze, his head snapping to look at the group now. Upon noticing his gaze on them, they all quieted down as he repeated your name with an unreadable expression.

"Do the lot of you happen to know them?" He asked. The sinners all exchanged glances before hesitantly nodding.

"Yeah, we all had them as our teacher when we were little." One finally spoke up. Clearly, he recognized who Alastor was because he and the rest of them all seemed a bit timid.

"Interesting..." Alastor said as he took a step into the surprisingly-clean alleyway now. He was extremely curious as to why they'd brought you up at a time like this. If they were your former students, he was sure they'd absolutely loved having you as a teacher; all of them had. But bringing up someone who'd taught them when they were in kindergarten at a time like this seemed excessive.

As he came closer to the huddle, he noticed a few more interesting things on the wall behind them that only amused him further. It seemed he'd been right when he called them excessive.

Dozens of what he could only assume were their assignments from kindergarten had been plastered on the wall; all graded by your hand and with that sparkly pen of your favorite color that you always used. The Radio Demon wasn't even sure how they'd procured those things in hell, but that wasn't all. There was a photo of you with your class of kindergarten students from when you were alive at the center of it all, and lines drawn in bright red blood connected everything; wrapping up this odd display.

It was a shrine. That knowledge only made Alastor's smile widen further in amusement. You likely didn't even know these former students were in hell, so he enjoyed imagining how your face would look when he told you all these details.

The sinners exchanged glances with one another now, seemingly put-off by his silence this whole time.

"Do you have a problem with us?" One of the braver ones spoke up, "If so, we're not alone! I'll have you know there are tons of us down here that will gang up on you if you try anything!" The Radio Demon wanted to roll his eyes at that- as if a group of regular demons, no matter how large, could stand a chance against him- but an idea was forming in his mind now that he couldn't help but want to investigate further. He hummed, taking another step forward as he raised his microphone-cane to point at the wall-shrine.

"And do the rest of you worship this person too?" He questioned casually. It seemed your former students hadn't expected that because they exchanged glances with one another again before answering.

"...Yes. All of us were their former students," one said, "We were inspired by their death and followed their ideals in our own murders. Now, we continue to spread their knowledge throughout hell."

"I see..." Alastor replied. He couldn't have been more amused in this moment; here he'd been worrying about your safety since you didn't want to become an overlord, and now it seemed he'd just accidentally stumbled upon the solution. "If that's true, then I assume you've yet to run into them down here?"

That gave the group pause.

"They're down here?" The sinner who had first spoke up asked and Alastor nodded.

"Indeed!" He replied, "In fact, they happen to be a dear friend of mine." Their eyes seemed to narrow at that; as if they didn't approve of the supposed friendship. Alastor, however, paid them no mind as he stood taller and rested his hands on his cane. "I have a proposition regarding your former teacher," he announced to the group, "One I believe you'll be more than inclined to accept."

He could already see their intrigue as he began explaining.

..........

You quietly hummed to yourself as you made your way to what essentially served as your dwelling here in hell. Thanks to Alastor, you could have chosen just about anywhere to live if you wanted, so at the moment, both you and him resided in an otherwise-empty apartment building that closely reflected the architecture found in New Orleans during your time. Your apartments were next door to one another; even having a door on one of the walls between them for quick access, though Alastor rarely ever used it; instead just popping up out of nowhere in your house.

Unlocking the door to your home, you stepped inside and shut it behind you. Since your best friend had been busy today, you'd taken a peaceful walk by yourself and had now returned to make dinner for the both of you. Alternating who cooked and when was a common practice for you and the Radio Demon since you both shared the same tastes and preferences when it came to food. You had to admit, though, that he was much more skilled in the kitchen than you.

You turned on one of the many radios found in your apartment as you moved through the kitchen; humming along with the song Alastor currently had broadcasting. You were just about to start cooking when there was a knock at your door.

Frowning, you set down the apron you'd been about to tie onto your body and made your way to the entrance of your apartment. You'd never received visitors before; and especially not out of the blue like this. Alastor tended to ward off anyone who might have been looking to come see you.

Curious, you looked through the door's peephole to see a huge group of people crowding the hallway. Slightly nervous but remaining confident, you pulled open the door to greet them.

"Hello, can I help you?" You asked as kindly as you could. Alastor would likely lecture you about not answering the door for strangers like this later, but it wasn't like anything was going to happen, right?

Suddenly, someone from the group called your name, but not just any name; the title you'd gone by as a teacher. Your gaze snapped to them in surprise.

"Y-yes, that's me..." You replied carefully, "And you are?"

"It's me; James!" The person called and suddenly, memories of your life came flooding back to you. James had been one of your very first students and he was always such a sweet kid. He used to offer to sharpen your pencils for you during his own recess time, and though you never took him up on it, you were always appreciative.

"And Joseph!" Another demon called.

"And Ruth!"

"And Mary!" Suddenly, a whole chorus of names were called out, all belonging to your former students. Your breath hitched and a huge smile made its way onto your face at being able to see them again.

"My goodness, what are you all doing here?" You asked happily, ready to invite every single one of them into your home for dinner, even if they could barely fit in the long hallway outside your apartment, as it was.

But then it hit you; this was hell. If this many of your former students were here, that meant they hadn't made it into heaven like you'd always assumed. This was only a handful of those you used to teach, of course, but if this many had ended up in hell, you wondered what could have gone wrong to make them commit anything worthy of being here.

"What are you all doing here?" You asked, now crossing your arms. It had been a while, but those teacher instincts of yours were beginning to come back just from seeing all your old kids.

"We found out about your killings!" Mary eagerly spoke up. You cringed at that. You'd known your students would likely hear of what you'd done, and while you didn't regret any of it, you did feel bad that it had likely ruined the image of their former favorite teacher in their memories.

"We were inspired!" Joseph called now and your eyes widened.

"You're like our idol!" Agreed Ruth, "We want to be just like you so we've been living the way you wanted and continuing your legacy of cleansing the world of evil!"

You felt like you couldn't breathe. They were here because of you? Because of what you'd done? You weren't sure whether to be proud or guilty over that, but before you could decide, James dropped another bombshell.

"And now we want you to own our souls!"

You paused, taking the information in. A part of you expected them to backtrack, laugh, and tell you this had all been some elaborate prank, but that didn't happen. They were dead serious about wanting you to be their overlord.

"What?" You asked in surprise as Mary nodded.

"We want to give our souls to you and work under your command!" She explained excitedly, as if what she was proposing was the most normal thing. You weren't sure what to do.

"Uh...Could you all give me one moment?" You asked politely, feeling as if you might faint. The students nodded and you quickly shut the door before going straight to your living room. That was where the connecting door between your and Alastor's apartments was located and you hurriedly knocked on it, needing the support and guidance of your closest friend right now.

"Al?" You called quietly enough that the students wouldn't hear you but loudly enough that he would, "Are you there? I could use some help!" There was no response, even after you waited a minute, and you sighed, assuming he wasn't home yet.

You went to turn around now, trying to come up with a nice way to reject the crowd of people outside when you jumped at the sight of a bright red deer-like demon standing behind you.

"What is it, darling?" He asked in a cheerful tone.

"You've got to stop sneaking up on me like that!" You exclaimed as you reached a hand to your heart. It wasn't like you could have heart attacks in hell but it sure felt that way.

"Why, but it's so entertaining!" He replied before setting his cane down and letting it rest in the crook of his arm. "Now, what seems to be the issue today?"

Ignoring how he almost sounded like a customer service worker, you sighed and reached a hand to your forehead in an effort to calm your already-growing headache.

"Remember how I used to teach kindergarten?" You asked, though, you knew he did. Regardless, the Radio Demon nodded and you continued. "Well, it looks like a bunch of my former students grew up looking up to me and now they're here in hell. They showed up just now and they want to give me their souls like an overlord!"

Alastor remained smiling, as always, so it was hard for you to notice just how amused he was by this situation. "And why, pray tell, would that be an issue?" He asked.

"Because I can't do that!" You exclaimed, groaning in frustration, "I can't hurt them; they're still my former students! I would have no idea what to do with that kind of power and besides, I don't want to be an overlord!" You plopped down on your nearby couch as Alastor listened intently to your plight. Finally, he hummed.

"I still fail to see the issue, dear," he told you, holding his cane in his hands behind his back as he calmly paced in front of you, "who says you would have to harm them if you owned their souls?" When you didn't respond he went on. "And as for the power, you would hardly need to use it. They could live their lives just as they did before if you so wished, but this way, you would finally be able to protect yourself."

"I can already-" you started to protest, only to see the look in his eyes and think better of it. You'd been in denial about the role your best friend played in your safety for a while now. Finally, you sighed. "But Al, they see me like some sort of god," you told him, "they idolize me to a concerning degree. I can't have that power over people; it's never been my style."

Alastor knew this was true. After all, in life you'd always preferred to manipulate the world from the shadows via your killings. You would never have been comfortable with this much glory, but he wasn't about to give up on the idea yet.

"Perhaps I can put it a different way," he said. The sentence was a reference to your teaching style as well; always willing to try and explain or show things differently if a student didn't get it the first time. You were endlessly patient, and luckily, he knew that would work in favor of his current plan.

With a wave of his cane, a hoard of shadow creatures appeared in the room around you. You glanced at each of them, having seen the group before, wondering how he planned to get this point across. That was when he pointed to the door, where one of the creatures had grabbed the handle and was now swinging it open. In the hall, you could see your crowd of students all kneeling, but they looked up with smiles once the door was open. That was when Alastor, in his theatrical fashion, began to sing.

"There, you see? They're on their knees!" He called, pointing his cane in the direction of the hall, "Being worshipped is a breeze!" As if to further prove his point, the shadow creatures ran over to kneel in front of him. The one that had been at your front door now closed it and joined them. "Which rather suits us in the interim!" Alastor added with his signature wide smile.

"I just...Don't think I'm cut out for it," you admitted with a sigh, completely ignoring his song. On a normal day, you might have sang and danced along, but you weren't in the mood right now. "They want me to be a god!"

You plopped down on the couch with a defeated look on your face but your best friend wasn't done yet.

"It's tough to be a god!" He admitted dramatically as the shadow creatures spun in circles around him, "Tread where mortals have not trod! Be deified when really you're a sham!" You could tell he was mocking you now as he leaned on the couch and raised a hand to his forehead like an exasperated lady. You rolled your eyes but then he moved to stand in front of you, taking both your hands in his.

"Be an object of devotion!" He sang as the shadow creatures performed some surprisingly elaborate choreography around you. "Be the subject of psalms!" He pulled you up off the couch so you both were standing now and then draped an arm over your shoulders, pulling you in and raising his hand to his mouth as if telling you a secret. "It's a rather touching notion; all those prayers and those salaams!" He took your hand now, spinning you in a circle as you chuckled.

Alastor knew his plan was starting to work now; at the very least, he'd cheered you up. It seemed pretending he had no part in the arrival of your former students really had been the right choice; otherwise you would have caught on to what he was doing.

"And who are you to bridle if you're forced to be an idol?" He asked as the shadow creatures brought of both their hands and shrugged dramatically, "If they say that you're a god that's what you are!" You bit your lip at that; seemingly still not enthusiastic about the idea. Knowing he needed to try another tactic, Alastor snapped his fingers, transporting a few of your students into the room.

All of them were kneeling on the floor surrounding parts of what had been their shrine to you. Your widening eyes told him you hadn't realized their devotion ran that deep yet and his smile grew more sly as he went on with the song.

"What's more," he sang, "If you don't comply with the students wishes I can see you being sacrificed or stuffed!" He dragged a finger across his neck for emphasis and you seemed to get a little more nervous. In order to bring back your enthusiasm, though, he pulled you back into a side-hug as you both faced the students. Now as they continued to kneel, silver platters of your favorite foods rested in their hands and they held them out to you.

"So let's be gods, the perks are great!" He lead you over to one of the students and took note of how your eyes lit up slightly at the sight of your favorite food, "All of hell here on our plate!" He spun you again now and snapped his fingers so the platters disappeared and a few more students joined the others in kneeling. "The students' feelings should not be rebuffed!" He sang as he directed your attention to the sinners, who all gave you puppy-dog-eyes in agreement. Alastor had to hand it to them; they had a knack for going with whatever he came up with in order to convince you. "Never rebuff the students' feelings, no my friend!"

The shadow creatures began dancing around again and the other demons joined them, despite not really knowing the choreography. The result was an adorably awkward dance between the two groups. "It's tough to be a god!" Alastor repeated to you as he took a step, gesturing to everyone around you both. "But if you get the students' nod..." He trailed off, giving you the opportunity to speak. You did, with slight hesitation.

"Count your blessings?" You asked more than you sang. Alastor nodded, glad to know he seemed to have gotten you on-board now.

"Keep them sweet; that's my advice!" He replied as he came to stand by your side again in the middle of the circle of shadow creatures and students.

"Be a symbol of perfection..." You sang softly. The Radio Demon knew his plan had worked now so he nodded and went on.

"Be a legend, be a cult!" He advised you, "Take their praise, take the collection as the multitudes exult!" You turned to the students, one of your hands slightly extended as it began to glow your favorite color; a phenomena you'd never experienced before now.

"Don a supernatural habit?" You sang as you glanced back at Alastor, who nodded, before leading you slightly closer to the group.

"You'd be crazy not to grab it!" He sang as the first student eagerly lined up to shake your hand. This time, you didn't reject the offer and the Radio Demon was glad to know his plan had worked out just the way he wanted. He knew you only needed a little more convincing in order to become one of hell's next best overlords. "So sign up this new god for paradise!" He sang as you finally took the hand of your student, shaking it and solidifying your first deal as a new overlord. "Paradise~!"

And with that, it was done. You would finally own souls of your own, and with them, you would finally have the power to protect yourself just like your best friend had always wanted.

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mylonelydreaming · 4 months

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For me, Link being "unhealthily obsessed with Zelda and finding her to the point Ganondorf is a footnote" isn't something that I think is "bad" at all, but precisely what makes this version of him remotely interesting (to me) when Nintendo is otherwise so adamant about keeping him a stoic knight most of the time.

It adds a different layer to him, turns him from this perfect, bland stoic boy into someone who only outwardly appears that way, appears like he has everything together, but is in fact flawed inside and a little broken from what has happened to him. A little off. That makes him much more interesting to me. It gives him a major character flaw that can be exploited by his enemies, and what do you know, Ganondorf and the Yiga Clan do exactly that (they even remark on what good bait she makes).

I also find it interesting to think about when he became this way. Was it the years he spent with her in-between games? Was it well before that, when he was aimlessly chasing that "beautiful voice" even before he remembered who he was? Was it some point before the Calamity? Did he become a knight in the first place not merely to follow his father's footsteps, but to one day protect her? I find this compelling to think about. Is making a specific person your life's purpose unhealthy in real life? Yes. It's also very interesting in a story.

And also on that note, isn't him becoming at least a little too obsessed with her a completely natural thing to happen?

For me, if you take away Link's (yes, I'll admit, unhealthy although I kind of like that), obsession with Zelda, then all that is left is the exact ways that people who hate not only zelink but Link himself describe him as all the time: A robot who feels nothing but duty.

And sorry, but I just find that very boring. Dull. Unexciting. I also, then, can't see why on earth Zelda would have feelings for Link if she's just a duty to him and her acts of affection, like sewing him a new tunic, are never returned. Frankly, I think she deserves a lot better than that, to have her feelings reciprocated and a happy ending after all that she's been through.

And to be honest, why would any writer make her feelings unreciprocated when she's basically the main focus of these two games? How does that make any sense? I also doubt any professional game dev working on a deadline would waste precious time writing and coding dialogue about it into the games if it supposedly wasn't meant to mean anything? I honestly rather dislike people brushing off things like Kass's song, because it ignores that it was purposefully written by the game's creators to tell the player something. It not only feels disrespectful to whoever wrote it, but ignores an extremely common convention of video games. I don't think it's really very fair to call it "bad writing" simply because it delivers the information like a video game and not like other visual mediums would have. Video games have always demanded the player to read things, investigate and read between the lines. Especially so when they are more focused on gameplay, which is exactly where Nintendo's focus lies.

And when it comes to "it should have been more obviously shown", well, look how people complain even when it's subtle? If you're someone who hates it, why complain about the romance not being overly blatant? Isn't that good? I mean, clearly an even bigger fit about it would have been thrown if they had been even more obvious, so personally, I think that the way Nintendo went about it was perfectly fine.

#zelink #totk #tears of the kingdom #link #breath of the wild #botw #legend of zelda #tloz #loz #zelda #princess zelda

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gnabnahc-143 · 1 year

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Stuck with you | B.C

Pairing: Bang Chan x reader

Summary: 4 times people were convinced you and chan were in love + 1 time you finally realized why

Genre: 4+1, best friends to lovers, indenial motherfucker, high school AU, just fluff really

wc: 5.8k (the way this is the longest fic I’ve ever written, not my fault I love Chan)

Song suggestions: Sick of you - Suriel Hess

Note: pretend Minho and Chan are the same age😅. Also this is me trying to delay posting chapter 2 of the way I loved you.

BONUS | skz reaction to you two finally getting together

God you fucking hated math. It’s funny you chose to take the hardest math class offered, funny how you transferred from a class way easier, getting way better grades, claiming to love the subject and wanting to be challenged, all because of a boy.

Bang Chan had been your best friend for a little over 3 years in your junior year and you felt yourselves drift a part as you chose classes far different from each other, to better suit the paths each of you were going to take. Spending most of your time with him online or the passing times in the hallway when you encounter the other as he spent most breaks with his own set of friends, the boys you grew fond of, whilst you spent it with your girls. Transferring became an option when you realized your math grades were outstanding, having a natural gift for it albeit your hatred, and your friends started questioning why you hadn’t chosen a harder class. When you brought it up, he had eagerly begged you, being in that very class, he wanted to spend more time with you.

Being utterly weak (and whipped) for him, you relented, figuring it couldn’t be that much harder as the class you were in was only a level easier, oh how wrong you were. Now in your senior year you sat in the corner table of the math class, away from the chaos of your gifted peers carelessly chatting, clutching your hair in confusion.

“I can’t believe they have time to talk, I’m actually going to fail this class” your friend Lisa, a girl you got closer to after transferring, had said as she sat in the table in front of you. The class was built so that each table could only fit one person, and you two had always chosen to sit on the tables in the corner end of the classroom, finding it better to focus that way.

“I know, I’m pretty sure the shit we’re learning is university level” you groaned, releasing the grasp on your hair as you leaned back into your chair. She laughed and agreed, you two fell into a light conversation whilst continuing to focus on studying, eyes trained precisely on the piece of paper that you were sure would haunt your dreams from now on. You noticed she had gone quiet and you turned ahead to see why.

“Need any help?” Speak of the devil that had put you in the very situation that had you miserable. He was smiling at you, amused at the way you had your eyebrows furrowed almost permanently. You turned to glare at your best friend, rolling your eyes, “I don’t know how you convinced me to transfer” you pouted. He giggled as he pulled up a chair next to you, squeezing his way into the table, frowning you turned to him, confused to why he had opted to join your struggles instead of joining his chattering friends. Chris was, to put it lightly, a genius, so he had no reason to join your misery parade yet he did like many times before. You were friends with the people in your class, but you preferred to stay away from the chaos, indulging in your introverted nature. Chan, although an extrovert, always seemed to join you instead of the crowd which confused you but you never questioned it, instead welcoming his company.

“I wouldn’t have supported it if I didn’t know how smart you were, maybe you’re just making it harder than it needs to be” he said in sympathy, continuing on to explain the shortcuts you could take to solve the exact equation that were filled with scribbles of your past attempts. In the end you noticed he was right (or maybe he had a gift of making you memorize and analyze any of his words) as now you had easily finished all the equations given…and in record time.

“See, wasn’t that hard was it?” He teased, patting your head proudly. You rolled your eyes but smiled nonetheless at the caring boy, glad you had him next to you. From then on you two had continued into a conversation, laughing at his attempts to joke, and opting to stay with each other instead of joining the group. By the time the bell had rung, you both were in the midst of a very competitive online chess game (which both of you were a completely novice at).

“Guess we have to end the game” he said with a shining smile, you laughed at his glee, claiming he was only happy as he was clearly losing whilst he laughed in response. He went back to his table to pack his bags, while you chuckled, shaking your head fondly at your dimpled best friend.

Your next class was English which you had also shared with Lisa, turning to her, you were about to ask if she was ready to go when you saw her smirking at you, lifting her eyebrows. “Finally back to earth?” She asked, laughing at your confusion. “I swear you guys are in love” she said, you blushed at the statement, jumping to deny her. Her laughs increased at your refusal shaking her head as she packed her things.

“What do you mean by that, I swear you guys always say it but I really don’t understand why” chuckling in disbelief you’d stated. Her laughter came to a halt, now looking at you in disbelief, finally realizing you were genuinely confused. “You’re joking right?” She said, halting her actions “think about it y/n, you guys are closer than normal friends, he looks at you differently to everyone else, he even acts differently around you. The minute any of you are in each others presence it’s like everyone else doesn’t exist, you guys get into your own worlds, in your own conversations” she pointed out, listing to what you thought were nonsense.

“He’s friends with a bunch of girls, mr popular remember? He’s like that with everyone, that’s why people love him, he makes them feel special” you rebutted, spluttering against your words. “Do you feel special?” She countered, asking. You stayed silent but truly the answer was predictable, he truly made everyone feel like they meant something. “Just think about it, he’s friends with me too, I know how he is with girls, he isn’t like how he is with you. Plus in the hour of our class, he never once looked or spoken to me, it’s always like that whenever you’re in the room, he won’t talk to anyone else or pay attention to them.” At that she ended the topic, you tried to brush it off as you both left the class and fell into mindless small talk but the lingering thought of her words stayed still in the corner of your mind.

“Have you decided where you’re gonna go for uni?” Chan asked as you both sat on the school field, under a tree watching his friends play football like their life depended on it. On any other day you two would part ways during lunch, spending time with each others respective friend groups, but today he’d ask you to join him. In his seasonal clingy nature, claiming he’d barely spent time with you lately.

“You know I’ve always wanted to go overseas, see a different part of the world” you replied, being truthful as you never thought of staying in Korea. University always seemed like your chance of a getaway car, leaving your life left behind, leaving parts of your self you hated behind, memories of past regrets. Recently though you’ve come to realize maybe your past would never leave you and that the only thing you could do was accept that you’ve grown, accept that you’ve changed, these epiphanies coming to light with the aid of your dimpled best friend.

Speaking of which you’ve notice have become silent as you uttered your thoughts, simply lost in thought, keeping his eyes trained on his friends. “If I do, don’t miss me too much yeah” you teased, trying to break the tense atmosphere. He snapped his eyes towards yours, a small smile broke on his face as he rolled his eyes, ruffling your head in the process. He adjusted your positions to lie his head on your lap, as you started stroking his black locks.

Truthfully he was the only thing holding you down, the idea of leaving not being phased by even your friends as they too had ideas of leaving to different countries to study, so really there was no reason for you to, no reason except him. You knew Chris would stay in Korea, having dreams of producing music with his friends, studying it’s art and working freelance until he eventually gets signed (which you knew would happen considering his talent).

“I will miss you” He said, his sad expression coming back, your eyes softening at the look. Although your friendship was always playful, filled with laughter and teasing, he also never held back his affections. It was clear to everyone he loved you, whether that was as a friend or lover was the debate, he spoiled you as his best friend and you reciprocated. There were even days where you cherished each others company so much that all you did was lay on his bed on your phone in silence as he worked on songs on his desk, simply cause he wanted you to be there.

You frowned, continuing your ministrations on his hair after a soft pat to his cheek. “Come on, I haven’t left yet let’s not be all sentimental” you chuckled “hell I haven’t even decided if I am gonna leave, all is still on the fence”. He chuckled nodding, an ounce of hope bringing a blinding smile to his face, his eyes forming to crescents. For the rest of the lunch you continued to talk to each other, some topics even leading to animated arguments and ending in laughter, when it came back to the topic of the future. Somehow in the midst of the conversation, you started talking about marriage, the idea of a perfect future with whoever you chose to love forever.

“Well I want one kid, maybe a son if I got to choose but of course I’d love them all the same if it was a daughter. I’d spoil the death out of them, give them everything and raising them well enough to be grateful for it, well enough to make them want to give as well. I’d have to work for it though so I’d want a husband whose job wouldn’t be as demanding as mine, maybe an artistic type? That way they could be at home whilst still focusing on their dreams, not letting it get in the way of achieving what they want” you ranted, rambling in a daze of recounting your daydreams. Unknowing of the loving fond gaze that was held in Chans gaze as he grinned at your running rambles, holding his laugh in at your enthusiasm in the topic.

As you turned to him, you mistook the fondness for amusement, blushing at the influx of words that had spilled out of you. “Sorry…” you apologized sheepishly, fiddling with your ear. “It’s just something I’ve always thought of to be honest, a perfect ending you know” you continued, trying to save yourself from looking like a crazed planner. He laughed and nodded, assuring you that he too has thought about it like every other person. As you asked him what he thought of, he drifted off in thought, trying to gather all his daydreams. Before he could continue, the boys had joined you, sitting down next to you both…well more like collapsing onto you both.

“Who the hell suggested to play on the hottest day of the year” you heard Jisung complain as he was lying starfish next to Chan. You both looked at each other and laughed at the dramatic mess of boys amongst you, forgetting your past conversation and involving them in a new one. You were again oblivious to the occasional stares and smiles to you gifted by the boy who unknowingly to even yourself caught your heart.

When lunch came to a close, you left with Minho, who unexpectedly became one of the closest friends you’ve gained from Chan, only second to the boy himself, as both of you were heading to home EC.

“Sooo what were you and Chris talking about” the cat-like boy teased whilst wiggling his eyebrows, as you wondered the implication of his question.

“Just our hopes for the future, why?” You asked.

“I don’t know he looked pretty…whipped if you know what I mean” again smirking knowingly at you, whilst you were still stumped to the looks given. You explained the conversation in detail, knowing the nosy boy wouldn’t accept any less. As you went into a ramble on how you had detailed your ideal type to Chris, you saw realization crawl into his face as he muttered an “ahh…”, nodding in confirmation. You looked at him in question, wondering what he discovered to confirm his suspicions of Chan being so called “whipped”.

“God you guys are meant to be or something” he said, chuckling in disbelief still holding the same knowing smirk (one you used to be consistently annoyed by before getting used to it). He shook his head as the confusion has yet to leave your face, ever the menace, he pinched your ear in response. Rolling your eyes you realized this is another one of your friends agenda to insist the romantic love between you and Chris, your conversation with Lisa still plaguing your mind. “Don’t look at me like that, in a few months we’ll be able to say we told you so. With the rate you two are going it might actually be a few years” he said, whispering the last sentence to himself.

Chuckling you decide against arguing as you both had arrived to the class, before it could start however he turned to you “just do me a favor and ask him his ideal future when you see him yeah” he said, ending the conversation as you added the interaction to a collection of thoughts you’d stored in the back of your mind, where many moments revolving Chris was safely repeated. You wondered how you were ever going to concentrate on school as this section of your brain had gotten increasingly big, sometimes even taking the forefront of your mind.

You were concerned, very fucking concerned. On any other day, you wouldn’t bat an eye at the fact that you hadn’t spent time with Chan in a long time (which to you two was only a couple days). That being said, you couldn’t help but grow suspicious when the boys had come to you in confusion as they realized that they too had not seen the eldest of the group in days. At first you brushed it off, as it had been the seniors break before the exams, you blamed his silence on spending time with the family or studying for the finals. Though as you saw him continue his swimming practices in a concentrated face, in silence and away from his usual peers, your concern grew. The only reason you had come to campus was to spend the day studying at the library, hoping to catch some of your teachers for help, but that plan was completely abandoned as you saw your best friend sit quietly by the pool.

“Never took you as a loner” you said as you approached him, smiling in comfort as you noticed his frustrations. He smiled back but you knew it was forced, you had known the guy for almost 5 years at this point and when you say that there was little you could hide from each other, it was not an exaggeration. Being almost tied to the hip for the first 2 years of knowing each other, over the years you grew to read him extremely well, and vice versa.

Silence overtook the two of you as you waited for him to open up, him knowing you caught on to his facade. “What if I don’t make it?” He started “I’ve done everything to make my parents proud, medals from the swim team, good grades, hard classes. I did all of it to make them proud because I know that when I graduate, it will be long until I’ll be able to do that. I’m not gonna be a successful producer from the get-go, I know that, so what if I’m wasting all of this? Making them proud and leaving them with disappointment just to see it was for nothing” continuing into a rant. You looked at him in sympathy, rubbing his back as you saw tears well up in his eyes.

“Chris look at me” you said, wiping his tearful cheeks as he turned to you. “You are the most selfless person I know, you gave up your childhood to be the best student I know, took in a group of juniors and sophomores for no reason just to help and now they’re also some of the smartest people I know. Look you are so fucking talented, you’ve been making music since you could talk, I think your parents have known for a long time what you wanted to do and considering I’ve had long talks with them about our futures, they have no doubts in you, trust me they’ll be happy no matter the path you take. Be selfish Chris for once in your life, you won’t regret it, because at the end of the day, no matter how smart I know you are, you could never do an office job” you rambled, ending the rant with a slight tease to bring a smile to his face and successfully doing so.

“And when you inevitably become a big shot producer, because I know how talented you are and so I know you will, I’ll be cheering you on the sidelines in MY boring old office job as your biggest fan. No pressure though CB97.” You continued, teasing him lightly again with an alias you knew he’d started going by as he finally started publishing his music. After a moment of silence and exchanging grins, he thanked you, putting his arm around your shoulder.

“Ew you’re still wet” you said, scrunching your face but not leaving his embrace, the sour look on your face quickly disappearing as you heard his laugh. After a moment of small talk, both of you parted as he had to go to the showers whilst you had to continue your initial plans of studying, all whilst the grins on both of your faces had yet to leave your face and would continue to be etched on for the rest of the day.

Days after, Minho told you that Chris had gone back to replying to texts, seeming to slowly go back to normal, but he had also still avoided plans to hangout with them. This confused you as Minhos text had also been accompanied with a text from Chris to hang out, either way you were happy to spend time with the boy and eagerly accepted.

Now you sat in the movie theater with him, excitedly waiting for the new Deadpool sequel to start. As the ads and trailers played you fell into a comfortable conversation, not once mentioning his absence and break down, knowing it would be a sore subject for quite some time.

“I would think the boys would want to see this with you” you said. He looked as if he was caught, starting to scratch his neck nervously. “I don’t know, I didn’t think this was their thing” he replied stuttering, you knew he was hiding something but decided to brush it off. Remembering your conversation with Minho, you decided to subtly drift into a conversation about the future, you were successful in doing so as he often got lost into a trance of passion when talking about music.

“I love children but I don’t think I could handle many to be honest. I love my parents but with how busy they are and how busy I was trying to make them proud, I never got to spend much time with them, so I’d want a house with a studio so I could still work late without going home late. That way I could spend a lot of time with my family without compromising my work you know, I don’t think I could ever give up music. In terms of my wife, I don’t really care what they work as, as long as they’re happy, but I do have a thing for ambition so I’d say as long as they’re dedicated to whatever path they choose I’d love them all the same, whether it’s working a big corporate job or a loving mother and housewife.” He rambled, going into the same daze you had been just a month before on the field.

You were overwhelmed with fondness at the caring nature of the boy, gazing at him with a feeling you’d never noticed had always wrapped your heart when looking at him until now. You were still oblivious to the feelings (nor the realization of the similarities in your futures, bless your heart), but you had an inkling that the emotions clouding your head and heart for your best friend wouldn’t leave any time soon.

“Aww Channie, who knew you could be such a sweetheart” you teased, hoping to calm the erratic beating in your chest as you pinched his cheek. The conversation flowed comfortably after that as you both fell into the dynamic you both knew and loved, occasionally laughing until your stomach’s hurt, throwing popcorns into each others mouth to try and pass time before the movie starts, oblivious to the knowing looks and smiles from strangers amongst you.

Before the movie had started you felt your phone vibrate, seeing you had received a text from the boy who had left you in that conversation in the first place.

Minho 🐰😈: have you heard from Chan? Is he okay?

You: why don’t you ask him yourself…

Minho 🐰😈: I have a reputation to uphold

You: okay tsundere

You: [insert image of you two in the movie theater]

Minho 🐰😈: are you guys watching the new Deadpool movie together?!?

Minho 🐰😈: He promised to watch that with us. Bros before hoes my ass😒

Minho 🐰😈: And you say he isn’t in love with you, yeah right

Rolling your eyes, you decided to leave the boy on read. Too many thoughts plaguing you mind to answer, even as the movie began to play.

You tried to ignore the erratic beating in your chest that had never resided. Tried to ignore the way his gaze would pierce into your face occasionally throughout the movie when he thought you wouldn’t notice. Tried to ignore the way his hands felt on your face as he jokingly fed you a piece of popcorn. Tried to ignore the similarities in the way you saw your futures. Most importantly, tried to ignore how he had basically gone M.I.A for days but decided to hang out with you first amongst all his friends, even though they had promised to watch the movie together after seeing the first. But you couldn’t.

You didn’t want to seem delusional, as he, again, always had a way of making people feel special. God did you feel special.

You didn’t know why you were crying.

For a couple months, you and Yeonjun had been talking. You liked him, he was funny, smart, handsome, and you two had been friends beforehand so it all never seemed forced. You knew a part of why you had sought out a romantic interest was to distract yourself from an ongoing dilema plaguing your mind for months, but you weren’t ready to confront that. Everything with Yeonjun was nice, fun, casual. So it shouldn’t be surprising when he decided to end your situationship abruptly for a more serious relationship with another girl, shouldn’t be surprised that he so quickly moved on with a lovesick smile to the girl next to him. More shocking than anything was the way you found yourself crying in your best friends arms, infiltrating his home suddenly, jumping on his bed to cuddle him for comfort.

You felt guilty for intruding, especially as you felt a slight drift between you two as of recently (not realizing it had started the minute you had begun to talk to Yeonjun). Though your guilt disappeared as you felt him hold you tighter, running his hands through your hair, and whispering comforting words and shushes to help calm your cries. As he heard hiccups replace your sobs, he slightly pulled away gently, just enough to wipe your tears whilst still keeping you close. Fixing the hair on your face in the process, holding your face as if you’d break, looking at you in concern. “If you’re not ready to tell me what’s making you cry like this, it’s okay, but just know you can trust me yeah” he said, his patient and caring nature pulling at your heart strings, making you pull away from his hold just to tuck your face back into his neck.

“I don’t even know why I’m crying, I didn’t even like him that much” you muttered, more to yourself than him, shifting your body to talk more comfortably but still lying your head on his shoulder as you laid next to him instead of on top of him. He used his arm around you to continue running his hand through your hair, you knew friends shouldn’t be this close but you also weren’t ready to face that. “Yeonjun?” He’d asked, your head still tucked in his neck, you couldn’t see the heavy furrow of his eyebrows.

“Yeah…he uhh he’s with another girl now, they’re serious, even though he told me he never wanted anything serious. To be fair to him, I told him the same, but it hurts cause in a way I was waiting for him you know, I would’ve never said I didn’t want anything serious if he didn’t. Now knowing that he only didn’t want something serious with me…” you drifted off, you now knew your cries weren’t for the boy you simply held an attraction to, but for the insecurity you had felt as he chose someone else. “I just…am I not good enough? I’m always the girl before you know, before you find the one, there’s always that one girl. I’m always saying I’m not ready for a relationship but it’s because no one seeks me for a serious one, it’s always flings, friends, nothing more. I’m never gonna be first choice, always the one people settle for cause they don’t want something permanent or until they find something permanent.”

Feeling tears crawl back into your eyes, you chuckled bitterly. “God I’m pathetic” you said, playing with your fingers to will the tears back in.

“Of course you’re not, you deserve to feel sad about this, deserve to feel these emotions y/n. Look this may not be much coming from me but you’re enough, you’re more than enough, anyone would be lucky to have you” Chan said softly in reply. You shook your head chuckling, “you have to say that, you’re my best friend” you pointed out, arching an eyebrow as you faced him.

You saw his face grow serious at your attempt to brush his compliment off. “I’m serious y/n, remember when you told me I’m the most selfless person you know, I think that’s wrong, cause for me that’s you. You don’t see how amazing you are but I do, the boys do, your friends do, and anyone in their right mind would know how lucky they are to just have the chance to know you. That girl is great, sure, maybe Yeonjun will end up happily with her, but the greatness of a person is not the absence of your own.” he said, not once breaking the stare on your eyes. “And if I’m being honest, I’d choose you over her any day, because after knowing you for 5 years, I know how lucky I am to even have you as a friend” he continued.

His words had rendered you speechless, not knowing the boy in front of you had felt so strongly about your friendship (god you were so far deep indenial). “Thanks Chris” you smiled tearfully at the words, he pulled you impossibly closer, tucking your head back into his shoulder. He spent the day trying to cheer you up, watching movies on his bed, and even showing you some of his tracks he knew you’d been looking forward to hearing.

It’s been a few days since that night, you had made peace with the fact that you were just not the one for Yeonjun, no longer wasting tears on the boy. You saw him approaching you cautiously as you closed your locker, smiling at him in reassurance as you held no grudges, after all you were friends before everything.

“Hey…” he started off, still looking nervous. You replied with a “hi” and a smile of encouragement, trying to emit comfort as you truly held no bad blood against him. “I just…I wanted to say sorry” he continued looking guiltily at the floor, you shook your head in reply earnestly trying to convince him that he had nothing to be sorry for. “No no, I do owe you an apology, I was an ass for leading you on. I know we agreed for nothing serious but I mean I wouldn’t like it if a girl I was talking to suddenly dropped me for another, no matter how casual it was, especially if she were to leave for something serious even after saying she didn’t want it.” He said.

“It’s okay, really.” You chuckled, smiling at him in understanding, “Yeah at first it didn’t feel so good but again nothing serious, you and her seem happy”. He smiled in relief, chuckling at a thought, “can I be honest with you?”. You looked at him quizzically “shoot. We were friends before anything, you can trust me” you said. He took a moment to form his words, taking a deep breath before chuckling again.

“A part of why I never wanted something serious with you wasn’t because you weren’t great, hell your reaction to this whole thing reminded me how amazing you are” he continued to chuckle, shaking his head. “Your understanding, caring, patient, got a heart of gold. Though I knew you were never mine, and never going to be mine.”

Your confusion wasn’t resolved, if anything the furrow on your eyebrows seemed to deepen. “What?” You uttered softly, silently asking for an explanation. “After how many years, you two have still not figured it out huh? Maybe it’s not my place to spell it out for you but if we’re being honest, I’ve always known you were in love with Chan. Even as I started to talk to you, you know romantically, I tried to ignore the fact that I knew, thought maybe over the weeks of getting to know you that maybe I was wrong, maybe everyone was wrong. Hell I really wanted everyone to be wrong at one point” he explained scoffing.

“I was going to tell you that you’d find a guy who makes you feel the way I feel for her but I think deep in your heart, you know you already have. Friends don’t look at each other the way you two do y/n” he ended. You had gone silent, thinking over his words, thinking over the moments you’ve had with Chan, thinking over the feelings you had long buried. He smiled knowingly, silently celebrating the fact that someone’s words have finally gotten to you, and the fact that it was his made him feel victorious. “Think about it, ‘you’ll never know what you have until it’s gone’” he quoted, leaving you to think.

Days of these thoughts turned into weeks, now you lied on Chans bed as he worked on his desk. In his eyes you looked as if you were on your phone scrolling mindlessly, you were on your phone but you weren’t mindless, far from it. The same conversation with Yeonjun were repeating in your head, mixed with conversations with Minho, conversations with Lisa. As the scrolling of your phone was through pictures you had curated over the years of you and Chan, on the several hangouts you’ve had, just the two of you, and you smiled at the endless memories.

You knew you loved him, you knew for weeks now, even knowing your love for him didn’t just span those few weeks but rather a few years.

“Chan…” you called out to him, knowing he heard you as he, as a force of habit, always left one ear open from his headphones. He hummed, quickly pausing his work to turn to you quizzically. You stared at him full of emotions, searched his face as best as you can with the distance between you. He tilted his head as you stayed silent, muttering a nervous “what” accompanied by a giggle which left you looking at him in endearment.

“I love you” you confessed, it wasn’t rare for you to say it, being best friends, but the intention behind your words were now different. You knew he knew it was different. That he knew what you meant. That he knew you finally realized. For a moment he was frozen, all his pent up emotions coming to surface, once it reached, a blinding grin you’ve yet to see until this moment was planted on his face. The dimpled and crescent eyed grin, implanting one of your own on your face. “Finally.” was all he said before making his way quickly to jump on you, collapsing his body on top of you, pulling away to leave kisses all over your face muttering I love you’s after every peck as you giggled at his affection.

“Took you long enough” he teased as he momentarily stopped his eager pecking. You laughed in response, “shut up” you muttered before pulling him into a kiss. You both knew you didn’t need to talk anymore, knew you both were it for each other, knew that starting this moment, there wouldn’t be anyone else. Though it didn’t stop you from uttering one last sentence, “you know this does mean you’re stuck with me right”, wanting a confirmation that this was serious, your past insecurities getting to you. “Please baby, if you weren’t so god damn oblivious you’d have been mine a long time ago. Whether you like it or not, I’ve been stuck with you for a long time” he teased, leaning in to kiss you again.

You no longer felt bad for never being the first choice, because really, for you, every man has always been second to Chris.

Me projecting my failed friends to lovers arc to all of my stories LOL

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