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astrid-sorensen · 10 months

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The Farmhouse | Joel Miller x f!reader

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: sᴍᴜᴛ, ᴘɪɴɪɴɢ, ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴄᴇ, ɴᴏᴛ ᴘʀᴏᴏғ ʀᴇᴀᴅ

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 5ᴋ

MASTERLIST

"Kiss me." You asked, muted. “No.” He grunted. “I ain't your boyfriend.” He whispered coldly. The words stung in the air.

Joel might have been the most closed off person you have ever met. The only sound filling the room was Ellie's repetitive giggles as she read through her book.

The pages between one hand and a sandwich in the other. You had known Joel for a few days now, learning nothing about the man except he was from Texas. Except, there had to be something behind his stoic facade, I mean he had saved you after all.

The cordycept was hurtling behind you, darkness filled the library as feet slapped patterned tile. At the end was a light, a door held open by the brawn brunette male.

With little time to spare you'd passed him, the tall rectangular wooden door sealing shut behind you.

Panting short breaths out your lungs, you stepped down the grey stone steps towards a young teen, who you would soon learn was Ellie.

"Thank you! Oh my god! Thank you!" You turned to face the man, only now getting a good view of him.

The skin complimented the golden undertone of his flesh. Thick black and grey hair sprouted along his hairline.

A week or two later, all three of you rested for the night. You'd found a small abandoned gas station, gracing Ellie with a sleep on an old, leather couch.

You and Joel shared the abused brown linoleum, not much more than a foot between you. You rolled to your side, staring at the back of Joel's head as you debated your next move.

His wide shoulders were now in front of you. You couldn't stop yours fingers from slowly shaking over his skin, tentatively. "What are you doing?" His low voice, cutting through the air like a guillotine.

"C'mon, I've seen the way you look at me." You breathed, confidently.

"Don't be ridiculous." He spat back. Not moving away from you as you continued exploring him.

"What's stopping you. This could be our last night alive, and I haven't been fucked in so long."

Joel heaved a big sigh. You fingers continued to dance under his shirt.

Joel held his breath a moment longer silently begging you would stop before he'd give into his needs.

He needed to let off some steam, some pent up angst, he needed a release.

But alas, you didn't stop. The pads of your fingers grazed circles to his stomach slowly pressing down harder before going gentler again. Articulating your craving for him.

There was a soft layer of hair all over him and you felt the resistance as you moved your hand through it.

Feeling it thicken towards the centre of his abdomen and chest and then thin once you run it towards you again.

The next thing you know he's pulling you up onto his warm strong thighs, the denim scraping against your leggings.

His hands trapped you onto his legs leaving no room for you to move as he grinned upwards, his length hardening at the friction.

You felt your core moisten a cheeky smile grazing across your lips with pride as your hands went to his broad well built upper body.

One hand ran to your clit, rubbing the area as the wetness collected into the fabric, Joel could feel it seeping through.

He tugged at the waist of them, watching where your bodies met as you sat up on you knees letting him help you tear them off along with your panties.

He pulled you back on top of him, his knees widening to a v as he planted his feet firmly to the floor.

Knees bent to keep you in place, exactly where he wanted you. He continued pulverising into a rythm.

His lip caught between his teeth, the frown on his face deepening though you thought that wasn't possible.

You fingers moved to his jeans, fumbling on the belt as he nudged you off, undoing the leather band and buttons himself.

Then shuffling them down his thighs, so his cock could spring free.

One hand to the flesh of your ass the other to the base of his genitals, rubbing the sensitive skin of his tip between you lips, lubing it up.

He was slow, taking care as you felt your body build with excitement, craving to finally have him fill you up inside just as you'd anticipated.

The thought of how well endowed he was had crossed your mind more than once. At least you finally had your answer, and you were not disheartened.

He run up your slick one last time before finally pushing into the wet opening.

He felt your pussy crowning around the tip of his dick.

His jaw swung open and in that moment you knew this must of felt as good as it did for you as it did him.

He pulled his hips back, his tip almost slipping out before he moved back up replacing it to where it once was. His thumb rubbed at your cliterous.

This man was skilful, your body squeezing him to fit him inside.

Eventually he slid all the way in, your body tense and gripping around him. Both his hands squeezed at your ass, massaging into the flesh as he began bouncing you on his dick.

"Kiss me." You asked, muted.

"No." He grunted. "I ain't your boyfriend." He whispered coldly. The words stung in the air.

I know your not my boyfriend

A moan run from your mouth.

"Shut up, don't want Ellie hearing."

Another gasp fell from you lips.

"What did I just fuckin' say?" He grumbled, stilling as you felt your pussy pulsing around his length. Your hips bucked trying to gain some friction but it was no use against his strength, stilling you.

He moved a burly hand to your face, his thumb and pointer, clamping into your flushed cheeks as his palm cupped your mouth.

You whimpered into his skin, your neck straightening as he carried on, brutally fucking up into you.

Your hands lay against his chest, holding your balance, though you weren't sure if you needed to.

You crossed your arms over the hem of your shirt lifting the fabric before Joel swiped them off, you losing your grip of the cotton.

"Stop tryin' take your clothes off." He whispered, sternly.

"Why not?"

"If we gotta run, you gonna be focused on that shirt tryna pull it back on." Joel uttered into the night.

"Fine." You grumbled. It wasn't how you'd imagined, but I guess beggars can't be choosers.

Soon his rythm became sloppy, his end nearing as well as yours.

His wet thrusts kneading into where you needed him most.

"You close?" You nodded frantically, squeezing his hand your breast as his joined in. After a few more pumps you were letting go, stilling as you felt your whole body freeze, clamping down on him as electric shocks ran through you.

He fucked you hard through your release, edging on his own. You were spent, your whole body softening as Joel used you to satisfy himself further.

Fingertips gripping harshly into your hips as he pulled them down onto him.

Heavy breaths leaving this lungs. His large hands seized you by your ribs and quickly pulled you off, throwing you in between his legs as he palmed himself into oblivion. His cum spurting up into fountains then falling down into the base of his pubes.

A gorgeous hot flush was over him. His greyed hair slightly damp and lost some of its volume. A sheen coated his forehead as he brought a hand up to it, combing slowly down his hairline before gripping the crown.

Regaining composure.

He gave himself a second to catch his breath before reaching for the bottom of the curtain, ripping of a piece of fabric and cleaning himself up before pulling his jeans back up and righting his clothes to how they were before.

He made no eye contact as he did this, then turning onto his side away from you just like he had been before.

You sat, shocked and hurt. You ached for the intimacy, praying he would drag you over to him and pull you into his clutches. He didn't.

"Sleep, long day tomorrow." He stated, before falling completely silent. You moved pulling your leggings back on and crawling over to where you originally set up camp. Closing your eyes and begging for sleep to swallow you.

You woke the next morning to Ellie nudging at your sleep. "Hey wake up! I'm really fucking hungry and were outta food."

You grumbled, sitting up from where you had lead on the carpet, rubbing a sore knot in your shoulder to ease the pain from sleeping on the floor. Joel and Ellie were all packed, bags on their backs and guns in hand.

—

"Hey, how's watch going?"

"Fine." He replied, avoiding your gaze. God this man was difficult. There was an awkward silence as you waited. "Couldn't sleep?" He asked.

"Nah, restless." You moped. "Has anything ever snuck up on you when you were sleeping then? You know, cos you always insist on keeping watch and stuff."

"No." The male began. "But you can never be too careful."

"Hmm, I'd say fuck it. Get your sleep. Can't be killing cordys, running on an hours nap."

"Yeah but you also needed me to save your ass back there. So I think I'll stick on the side of precaution."

"Touché." You nodded, wandering aimlessly around. "You know, there's a reason I couldn't sleep."

Joel didn't answer but turned to look at you, a bored look plastered across his face, one eyebrow slightly perked in interest. "I was wondering if you wanted another repeat of the other night, you seemed to enjoy yourself."

"So did I." You flirted, eyes gazing up at the man as you wondered towards his direction.

He looked you up and down before returning his gaze into the distance, gun still firmly held against his chest. He chewed his lip, seemingly at war with himself. An entire ethical debate going on behind those black coffee eyes.

You lifted your fingers to his jawline, caressing the scraggly coarse hair of his face, scratching lightly at the skin underneath. You run it down to the exposed part of his chest, just between the collarbones before undoing a button, teasing further.

He swiped your hand off harshly slapping it away. Joel swivelled his gun down beside him.

"You want me to fuck you again?" He gritted through his teeth, half a question, half an answer.

"Mmhm." You nodded, cheekily.

"Right here?" He scowled, signally to where you were stood. The look of his face was disrespectful.

"Yep." Joel shook his head, sighing before looking around, pulling his gun off and putting it to the floor.

"Leggings down, now." He ordered. A smile crawled onto your lips, moving your fingers to the waistband of your pants, pulling them down innocently as you waited for his next order.

"Gotta be quick."

He said nothing as he pushed at you waist, edging you to turn around. He pushed you further, causing you to stumble forward til you reached the trunk of the old abandoned car.

You leant forward, arms bent up to rest your head on instead of the cold rusty metal of the car. Joel placed two hands to your ass cheeks, spreading your legs apart as he dived between them.

He spat into his hand cupping you sex and rubbing quickly, preparing you for him. He stood up, one hand flat to your lower back as he levelled himself to your hole.

"Do you want this cock?" He whispered, darkly.

"Yes, Joel. Please fuck me." You whimpered, bucking your hips back into him, but he held you in place with a deathly grip.

"Fucking Slut, you gotta be real quiet for me though." You hummed as he pressed in, forcing himself between your folds.

You cried out quickly, biting your lip to stifle the sound.

He fucked into you with violent force, your hips bones pressing into the vehicle. You felt his soft huffs behind you, the brunt force making the car rattle.

He carried on a moment longer before pushing up the back of you jacket to lay a kiss to your tailbone. "Too loud." He pulled you off, arms crossing underneath your own and lifting you a metre to the side like a toddler.

He kept one arm there, the muscle holding you up as he inserting himself again. He fucked into you harshly, the only sounds were his wet thrusts slapping into you.

You wined, rewarding you with a firm grasp of his hand against the sides of your throat. His breath heaved in the delicate eardrum of your ears. You gasped for air, you knees buckling as you came to your finish.

Shaking around him. He felt you go floppy, moving his hand down and watching you fall onto the leaves below. He moved behind you, angling your hips up so you were now on your hand and knees.

He braced your hips as he connected with you again, brutal thrusts into you from behind til you could tell he was close. Within an instant you felt him pull out, hot wet spurts on your ass as he came.

He admired the view, swiping off his ejaculate with his hand and handing it to you. You watched him innocently. He moved his fingers to your mouth and you sucked off the juice that was there. You pulled off and he twisted his hand, motioning you to clean it off. You waited patiently as he checked to see if there was anymore, finding some leaking between his thumb and pointer.

You swiped it off, the feeling sticky and salty on your tongue, swallowing all the residue down. He pulled his jeans back up, doing up his belt before fetching his gun he'd left on the floor. You followed pulling up your leggings.

"Go sleep." He ordered.

"You know I could keep watch for a while."

"No. Go to sleep, I'm not gonna ask again."

You wondered back, slumping to the floor and curling up under the blanket. You slept well after that.

—

"Are you ever gonna look at me again?" You scoffed, half joking, half annoyed. He didn't reply. "Hey, what's your fucking problem?"

"I'm just tryna get me and Ellie to Wyoming, I don't know what your so goddam pressed about."

"We had sex okay, it happened. You don't have to keep in a 10 mile radius from me."

"You asked me to fuck you and I did. Stop acting like it's anythin' more than that."

"Seriously, Joel I'm a fucking person! Or has it not occurred to you that I have feelings?"

"Not my problem."

"God Joel, your such a cunt."

He huffed.

"You were just somethin' to put my dick in. Nothing more than that." He cursed out, cruely.

Goddamit Joel, that was harsh. Where the hell did that come from?

He thought to himself.

You eyebrows raised, hurt but not surprised. Joel was cruel, Joel was cold. Your eyes then shut, a bigger smile crossing your lips as you stormed into another room, tossing down your jacket and curling up. Allowing the tears to roll down soothing yourself with them.

—

Ellie woke to the sun, shining through the newspaper clad windows, as she rose from her bed for the night. She went to wake up Joel who was already sat up, sorting through his things.

"Good morning!" She said cheerily, scanning the room quickly before asking. "Where's she gone?" Joel signalled his head to one side as Ellie wondered round and knocked on the door.

"Hey, you up yet?" There was no reply as she entered finding a bare room. She traipsed out poking her head into the other before returning to Joel. "Which one she in?"

"Next door."

"By next door do you mean in another motel, cos she sure as hell ain't there."

"What?" He growled, jumping from where he was sat and storming into the other room before booting into the next and the next. Your name rang through the halls, echoing across the bare property.

Joel ran, poking his head out to the distance. Then running to the opposite side, seeing your grey clad frame, wondering off. "Wait there!" You turned noticing the man before you began running, bolting across the field to the safety of the trees.

"God I'm too old for this." He huffed, catching his breath. You stopped running once he caught up, no reason to keep up the chase whilst he'd definitely gain on you and practically tackle you to the floor if it was what it takes.

"Fuck off Joel!" You spat, avoiding eye contact as you kept your head firmly ahead, not too certain where you were really going.

"No, about what I said."

"Oh you mean the part where you told me I wasn't even a person to you? Just a hole to put your dick in." If I remember correctly. In fact you did remember clearly, very clearly, too clearly.

"I mean" "I mean, I didn't mean it." "I didn't know what to say to you." "Fuck I'm no good at this."

"No your really not." You grumbled continuing to walk on.

"I'm tryna tell you I'm sorry."

"Oh, it was nothing. We're even, See ya!" You mocked.

"Please stay, if not just for me, for Ellie. Your the only one that gets through to her." "She loves you."

"She does not love me."

"She does, I'm old. I know that stuff when I see it. She always wakes you up first, she never picks arguments and she never walks on without you. She trusts you. "You know she'll never believe it wasn't her fault you left."

Fuck how could you do that to her, everyone she's ever loved has left her one way or another. She at least deserves a goodbye. And here wasn't the time.

"Please, don't fuckin' leave," His gruff voice broke.

"Okay, one more night." You started. "So I can say goodbye."

"Hey where the fuck were you running?" Ellie called, jointing you were you were in the clearing.

"Just tryna get a head start, your still pretty hungry aren't you?" You teased.

"Oh man, I could eat a whole horse." She laughed. You joined in letting her catch up to you as all three of you went off into the woods. The plan was to head west, go round the next town over and carry on til you found somewhere to sleep for the night.

You walked for what felt like days, taking frequents rests to put up your feet before you kept going. You were almost through the last step of your journey for the day. You'd hiked round the small town of Arlington, coming up to a country house just a couple miles out the city. The place you were coming up to was perfect, a large white farmhouse, black windows and a porch. Now you think about it it kinda reminded you of bill and franks although more secluded. The tall grass was wetter here than it was back in Boston, slightly muddying and green and almost reached you knees as you wading through, watching dusk fall over the hills.

"Woah! This is perfect!" Ellie beamed, a wide grin ear to ear in excitement. Moss had grown up the walls almost completely covering the once lavish family abode.

As you got close enough to make out the colour of the window frames, a dark brown beige, you felt a burning feeling flush over your thigh. You all ducked, hands shielding your body and chest loosly as you looked around.

At first you felt as although you had wet yourself. God this was embarrassing, until a loud echo followed. Finally registering in your brain. Your legs buckled under your weight, falling into the long grass.

You looked down to your leg, almost as if it were in slow motion. You saw your leggings dampen and a small amount of skin shown through the rip of the fabric. And it was red. So red. A gushing pool coating you as you heard more shots go off.

"Stay down!" Joel yelled, the deep gargle emitting from his chest in desperation. Almost on cue, agonising whimpers leaving your mouth as you held you hands to it.

Need to put pressure on it.

Was the only thought running through your rampant psyche. Ellie had crawled off in front, perching behind a shrub as Joel pulled out his gun, lying on his front as he angled it up to the house, towards the fence he saw the shots come over. "Fuck!" You cried out, attempting to crawl.

Joel bounded over to you, one arm under you knees and the other under your arms as he pulled you into him with haste. "Hold on tight." He demanded, leaving no room for debate.

"Joel get behind that car, you can get a better shot."

"No, I gotta to get you somewhere safe first." He snarled, as he ran as fast as he could, you hands gripping tighter to him as you bounced in his arms. He darted to the short stone wall leaped over it and dropping you to the floor behind, catching his breath and he got his largest gun into a better hold. "Don't fucking move." There was a small softness around his stern words. Those earnest iris' bleeding into your own.

You lay your head back against the bricks. Panting as you held on tightly to your leg.

Goddam this fucking hurts

There was shot after shot, echoing across the fields and into the distance.

"C'mon, let's get you inside." He picked you up again, pacing quickly towards the house. He must've took care of the shooter. Ellie ran ahead. Joel kicked down the back door heaving you inside and bringing you to the nearest seat.

You flopped down, one hand tightly griping into your hair. Joel found a cloth and placed it harshly onto the wound, your own arms folding up as you seethed in pain, muscles tensing and contracting.

He lifted the fabric, inspecting the would quickly before covering it again. He was knelt to your side both hands down as he held them straight in place.

"Ellie, you find anything?" He called. You felt dizzy and sick, agony washing over you again and again, each wave stronger than the last. Tears were welling in Joel's eyes unable to hold them back his shell shocked look terrifying you even more.

You couldn't make out her response. You turned your head to the side, a heave of vomit coming out as Joel held you there with his shoulder. You were too weak to do it yourself. "Ok, keep looking!" You felt the dizzying again.

Please don't throw up again.

Joel watched your eyes lull back and go floppy, he tapped on your face trying to bring you back.

"Hey, hey." He said, following with your name. "C'mon, stay awake for me." He moved, opting to lift your injured leg into the air, hoping to help some of the blood flow.

Ellie handed something reluctantly to Joel, he looked down at it briefly, chewing on his jaw before getting to work Joel ripped the fabric of your leggings with one harsh rip, the one leg of the fabric now it two for ease of access.

You eyes woke again.

What was going on?

Where the hell where you?

The whole place was rotten and mouldy, broken concrete everywhere. The wallpaper had been ripped at as if some had tried to scale it.

He threaded the needle, you saw white as he began. Curling the needle through your flesh. You screamed begging him to stop, crying in pain.

You fell out of consciousness, giving Joel a few seconds to carry on before you woke again, screaming the strength for him to stop. Blood had coated his whole hands, dripping onto the carpet.

"I know, I know, I know it hurts." He gritted, eyes fixed on your mutilated form. Soon he finished up, pulling the thread tight as it weaved through you flesh.

He pulled the needle off .

"It's over now." Joel sighed in relief, grateful he managed to finish it off. You head lulled back, hitting the sofa arm as a bittersweet bliss engulfed you for a short while, the excruciating pain of being sewn up finally completed.

You stayed conscious for a few minutes longer, moans and groans through you til you found some solace in sleep. "Hey soldier." He said, your eyes fluttering before looking over to him. You looked down to see a thick heavy cloth strap tightly around your wound. "Did your nap help?"

"A little, still fucking hurts like a bitch though." you croaked.

"Well, there's a decent looking bed upstairs, do wanna sleep up there?" You nodded, letting the man pick you up how he did earlier and slowly take you up the stairs. You dug your nails into his shoulders as your leg grazed him, pain sizzling through your nerves. A soft whimper fell into the air.

"Where's Ellie?"

"She's sleeping, theres a little kids room. Countless comic books she's rummaging through." The floorboards creaked as you reached the top floor, Joel carrying through the door way with care.

He gently placed you down, shaking off a dusty quilt before slowly draping it over you. He disappeared.

"Here." He said handing you an open can of spaghetti hoops. Your stomach growled at the view.

"Thanks."

You gobbled it quickly, the Texan moving to the space next to you to sit down. He pulled you carefully to lie on his chest. You were far too tired to put up a fight. Plus he was much comfier than the flat lumpy pillows. "We need to find more food."

"Your injured, need to rest."

"No, we need to find food." You said firmly.

"I'll take care of that."

"What by yourself?" You mocked, rudely. He didn't laugh. "Joel I'm still leaving, once my leg is good and I got some food, we're going our separate ways."

"Downstairs got a fireplace," He began, hesitantly. "Probably some good soil out back and it's not far from the city to find supplies." He muttered, shyly. "Plus I think I could fix the stove, maybe."

"Joel it's not gonna work. I'm-."

"Wait," You shook your head, having none of it. "Fuck, woman." He groaned. His hands had grabbed your face, pining it to the headboard in a rigid grip.

"Joel-"

"I-I need, you." He spilled, the words leaving his mouth like a broken dam.

He gravitated in.

Desperation overcoming him as he pressed his small plump lips to your dry ones, moistening them softly with his own. The grimace on his face was too intense to miss.

His dark eyes begging, pleading with you. This was killing him truly, get himself open to show you his insides.

But there was something there you hadn't seen on him before, a softness.

His rigidness blunted at the corners. "Okay? I fucking need you, I've almost lost you before, I'm not risking it again."

"What?"

He played with your lips, grazing them carefully so they only just touched as he spoke against you still.

"Don't you dare fucking leave me in this world alone." Both of your eyes were sealed shut. conveying so much love and passion as his hands held you in place.

He broke off, looking you fervently in the eyes as you looked back into chocolate ones, seeing so much vulnerability and tenderness. "Don't you dare."

He searched your face, his brows tightly embroidered together and little downwards frown on his lips.

"Okay, okay I won-"

He slowly went down you neck, kissing the skin softly. He lay small warm kisses to the collum of your neck. Something has possessed this man.

"God I need you so bad right now." He grumbled in a mild undertone.

"Do it then." He shook his head firmly, objecting.

"No, your leg."

"Don't worry, plus it might help with the pain." Joel pondered, his brown eyes wandering off into the distance.

"I have an idea." He crawled down the bed, gently tearing your other legging up you thigh, laying soft kisses as he did so. Soon he reached the top leaving you in just your underwear and you pr t shirt on top.

He slowly moved you good leg up, bending it at the knee as he pressed on the exposed part of your thigh, easing his access.

He lay a kiss too your wetness, your heart pounding in your ears. Joel started helping you take your shirt off.

"What happened to always being prepared?" You quizzed.

"It's safe here. Plus I can't resist."

"What if someone gets in."

"They won't." He growled. He laid back down, gentle kisses.

You inhaled sharply through your teeth. Jaw clenching since you'd tensed your limb trying to chase the high. "Try stay still, gorgeous." He said, his eyelashes fluttering down so he didn't see your response.

The word fell from his mouth like it was the easiest thing it the world. Like he called you that all the time, like it was made for you.

You heart fluttered, your hand moving to his hair to comb through it, gently scratching at his scalp to encourage him on. Shorts pants left your lips, your release nearby.

Your couldn't control your pelvis tilting at the motion your hole clenching, begging for something to fill it. As if on cue, Joel's thick finger poked at where you wanted him.

The action earning him your body's praise.

"J-Joel." You moaned, he softly hushed you, affectionately.

Your eyes squeezing shut as you came.

"Joel, that was the best." He pulled off his shirt and jeans, climbing in beside you before tucking you both into the blanket as you cosied tightly into him.

His hand pushing all your hair of your shoulder so he could grip your face.

He pulled you tightly into his chest, one hand gripping your neck with so much force you thought it would fracture.

"Good, get some sleep. You need your strength back." He kissed your forehead, the warmth flushing across your face.

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hardly-an-escape · 1 year

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tonight I am thinking thoughts about retired!Dream. about human Dream, weak and exhausted, dropped off on Hob Gadling's doorstep like an abandoned housecat.

I am thinking about Hob and Dream not immediately falling into bed, into a relationship, into orbit around each other. I am thinking about Hob turning his office into a spare room, teaching Dream how to be human, how to be independent, introducing him to new experiences and new people, and then basically sending him out free in the world once Dream knows enough to survive on his own. about Dream wanting this, wanting that freedom, that self-determination.

about Dream renting his own flat. cooking his own meals. choosing his own experiences, trying out everything under the sun completely on his own terms because he’s an adult with agency despite technically being less than a year old in human terms.

I’m thinking about Dream traveling. sending postcards and letters back to Hob in London from Cambodia, from Chile, from Butte, Montana. about Dream dating; about his first sexual adventures in a human body being with people he met in pubs or at the library or on Tinder. about Dream falling in reckless human love and getting his heart broken when the other person didn’t feel the same. about Dream making mistakes, making bad choices, getting hurt – never so badly that it scars him, never so deeply that it really damages him, but enough that it hurts – about Dream learning how to come to terms with that pain in his own right.

I’m thinking about Hob stepping into his role as Dream’s steadfast touchstone instead of the other way around. about Dream continually returning to the safe harbor of Hob’s care before he strikes out again on his own. I’m thinking about the patience and devotion and the longing Hob feels as he watches Dream explore; the highs and lows he experiences alongside him; how he wants Dream so fucking badly and will never, ever, push to have him until Dream comes to him of his own free will. because he will not have Dream if he feels beholden. I’m thinking about the iron lid Hob has to clamp down on his own desire, because that’s not what Dream needs from him.

until… it is. because there’s only one way this can end. I’m thinking about Dream realizing that none of his explorations, none of his liaisons, have brought him as much joy and satisfaction as Hob has simply by being his friend, by being there for him. I’m thinking about Dream, returning to Hob, choosing Hob, because he independently comes to the conclusion that they are, in fact, meant to be. about how much deeper, how much more meaningful that choice will be, coming after months or even years of journey and growth and self-discovery.

about what it will mean to Hob, to know that Dream has come back to him, has chosen him, over everything else; that after all his myriad human experiences he has determined that Hob is who will complete his human life and bring him the most joy. and then they make out disgustingly and live happily ever after.

#dreamling #the sandman #sandman meta #dream of the endless #hob gadling #my writing #retired dream

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pedrito-friskito · 1 year

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strawberry wine - joel miller x fem!reader

before - part one

series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3

it’s summer in austin, and you and joel meet for the first time.

a/n: the joel miller brain rot is real and your advocate is here to help! masterlist will be up shortly, special thank yous and shout outs to @psychedelic-ink @allfoolsinluv and @gnollengrom for letting me scream about this fic in your dms 🤍 I have thought of little else for the last 48 hours

word count: 3.4k

warnings: MY BLOG IS 18+, MINORS DNI - this part is not explicit but other parts will be, masterlist has further warnings, but no real warnings for this part except a lot of fluff?? and banter?? and I’m obsessed kthanksbyeeeee

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You meet Joel Miller long before the world implodes.

It’s 2001, you’re fresh out of college, relocated to Austin, Texas where your parents have taken over an old hardware store that once belonged to your grandfather. Nowhere else to go and nothing else to do for the time being, you spend most of your time in the store, stocking shelves and chatting with customers, learning the different things the store keeps on hand, what has to be shipped in special order. It’s not much, but it’s something to do; you’re just happy to be back with your family after four long years at college. Sure, you came home for holidays when you could, but it wasn’t the same.

It still isn’t the same, not really.

The house you live in is foreign to you, not the same roof you grew up under. The people are the same, your parents clearly happy to have you back, your little sister overjoyed to have someone in her corner again. Austin is nice, the weather warmer than you’re used to after four years in Michigan, but it’s a welcome change. Summer seems to go on forever, and your weekends are spent basking in the sun, finding new places to explore, wandering the shops that neighbour the hardware store and beyond.

And then one day, everything changes.

You’re stood at the end of one of the aisles, fixing a stubborn display of plaster tubs that won’t stay upright, when you hear the bells over the door chime, announcing the arrival of a customer. You don’t stray far from the display, calling out a good morning! and returning to your work. Your sister is perched behind the register, flipping through an old magazine, and you hear the tell-tale squeak of work boots on the linoleum, the sound now all too familiar to your ears.

The boots move in your direction, but you pay the sound little mind until it grows closer. Most people who come into the store know what they’re looking for, and your parents had been careful to keep everything in the same aisles and shelves they’d been on for the past decade, so as to not disrupt the regular customers. From the corner of your eye, scuffed, dark boots step a little closer, and your eyes drag over from the display, taking in the man before you.

You try really hard not to let your eyes linger everywhere, but it’s hard. He’s…well, he’s hot. Dark hair, dark eyes, patchy facial hair that really shouldn’t work as well as it does. Long legs covered in dark jeans, a t-shirt that’s definitely seen better days and is straining against his broad shoulders and thick arms. It’s a classic look you’ve come to associate with every guy who works construction in Austin, but right off the bat, you know there’s something different about this one.

“Hi there,” he says, his southern drawl not as intense as some other folks you’ve talked to, but still there, coupled with a little quirk to his lips, an almost-smile that makes you instantly desperate to see the full thing.

“Hi,” you breathe out, curling your fingers around the metal shelving in front of you, abandoning the plaster display.

“I’m lookin’ for a quarter-inch drill bit,” he spits, nearly stuttering the request out. You’re stuck still for a moment, absolutely enamoured by the man before you. And it makes your own lips twitch, the way his cheeks flare red and he drops his gaze after a moment, rubs a hand over the back of his neck. “I’m also assuming you work here but I now realize you don’t have a name tag or anything so I’ll just—”

You clap a hand over your chest dramatically. “Shoot. Must have left the stupid thing in the back.” He lifts his head, eyes going wide, the almost-smile returning. “Follow me.”

He follows you like a little lost puppy a few aisles down from where you were standing. He’s taller than you, by nearly a head, those broad shoulders almost blocking out the harsh fluorescent lights overhead. You may or may not let your hips swing a little harder as you walk.

“Any specific brand you’re looking for?” you ask over your shoulder, coming to a stop in front of the pegboard that holds bits of all sorts of sizes. “Or just a quarter-inch?”

“As long as it fits in my drill,” he answers, and you turn to the board, scanning for the right size. You can feel his eyes lingering on you, and you’re basking in it. When you find the right one, you pluck it off the hook and hand it to him. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you say, shoving your hands in the back pockets of your jeans after he takes it from you. “If it doesn’t fit, just bring it back and I’ll make sure you get the right one.”

The corner of his mouth twitches and he looks between you and the little package a few times, tapping it against the flat of his palm. His lips part, like he’s about to say something, but then your sister calls your name and your head snaps up.

“Come on up to the front when you’re ready,” you say, feeling a little bold and touching his arm as you step past him, “and I’ll cash you out.”

He watches you walk away, too.

“I need coffee,” your sister declares as soon as you’re within view of the front counter. “You want anything?”

“Nah, I’m good,” you reply, stepping behind the register, righting a cup of pens that’s fallen over. She slips down from the stool, flipping her magazine shut, and brushes past you, just as a now familiar deep voice reaches your ears.

“Thanks again,” tall, dark, and handsome says, approaching the counter with the drill bit and a tub of plaster from the display you’d been fixing in his hands. Your sister steps around him as he walks up, and turns to look at you over his shoulder, her jaw dropped, giving you two thumbs up. Your cheeks flare with heat, but you ignore it, taking the bit and the plaster when he sees them on the counter. “Are you new here?” he asks, and then rubs his hand up the back of his head, turning sheepish again. “Here being Austin, I mean. Haven’t seen you around before.”

You can’t help but grin back at him. “New-ish. Moved back at the beginning of the summer after I finished college. My parents took over this place after my grandfather died, and I can’t afford rent in the city, so here I am.” You ring up his purchase, tell him his total, and he fishes for his wallet, digging in the front pocket of his jeans. “For now, anyway.”

He presses his lips together as he pulls a twenty out of his wallet and hands it to you. “Maybe I’ll see you around again sometime.”

You punch in the right amount, letting the register drawer hit your hip as it shoots open. “Maybe you will.” You hand him his change, and as you press the bills and coins into his waiting hand, you offer your name with it.

“Joel,” he says by way of answer, and your chest puffs a little with the knowledge. “Miller. Joel Miller.”

Your grin widens. “Well, you have yourself a good day, Joel Miller. Hope I see you soon.”

He takes the bit and the plaster and takes a step backwards, walking directly into a display stand holding rolls of bright green and blue painters tape, sending it toppling to the floor. “Ah, shit, I’m sorry,” he grumbles, and you step around the counter, dropping to your knees, catching the tape as it rolls in a million different directions.

“Don’t worry about it,” you tell him earnestly, righting the stand and getting back to your feet. “Now I have something to do.”

“You sure?” he asks, straightening, his cheeks burning red. “I’m sorry, again.”

“Don’t worry about it, again,” you laugh, gesturing towards the front door. “I’ll see you, Joel.”

“See you,” he replies, tacking your name onto the end, and you have to ignore the way the sound of your name on his lips sends a prickle up the back of your neck.

You watch as he walks out the door, the bell ringing again as he departs, getting into a pick-up truck that has definitely seen better days parked at the curb. He scrubs a hand over his face as he starts the engine, and then turns and looks at you through the glass, lifting a hand in a wave before he pulls away from the store. You lift your hand to return the farewell, and your sister walks through the door a moment later, two coffees in her hands, pushing one into your grip even though you said you didn’t want one. You sip it anyway.

“Who was that?” she asks, bumping her hip into yours.

“Joel Miller.”

He comes into the store nearly every day for a week. Always looking for something new, another drill bit or packages of nails and screws, a hammer, rolls of tape. He’s a carpenter, you learn, and goes bright red when you hint that must mean he’s good with his hands.

Your conversations are always brief, but sweet. He asks what you went to school for, admits he never got past a high school education, laughs when you tell him he seems to be doing pretty well for himself despite that. He shows up one morning with coffees for both you and your sister, and a box of doughnuts, earning a squeal from your sister and a bright thanks Joel from yourself. One afternoon, he’s in a hurry, having run out of drywall screws, cursing that he left his wallet at the job site, and you wave him off, all but pushing him out the door with a new box.

Then Monday rolls around, and you find yourself watching the door, waiting for the bell to signal his arrival. Every time the bell does ring, you jump, stepping out of whatever aisle you’re in, checking to see who’s walked inside.

“I’m sure he’ll come by tomorrow,” your sister says when the clock hits two and there’s still no sign of him. “He’s probably just busy.”

“I know,” you say, brushing it off best you can.

The rest of the day passes like molasses, the minutes ticking by so slow you’re half sure the clock on the wall is broken. You even go so far as to check the batteries, earning a laugh from your sister. You curse yourself for flinching every time the door opens, doubly so when your father arrives to take over for the evening and you jump so hard you drop the stack of sandpaper boxes in your hands. “Sorry, honey,” he laughs, helping you pick up the boxes. “Long day?”

“Something like that,” you reply, putting the sandpaper on the right shelf before heading for the counter to grab your bag. “See you at home!”

Your father waves without looking, but calls your name before you can walk out the door. “Someone’s at the house, just so you know. Your mother’s home, of course, but I hired a guy to look at the back porch, asked him to fix the light in the hallway too.”

“Shouldn’t you be able to fix that yourself,” you joke with a smile, “since you own a hardware store and all?”

He just waves you off. “Get outta here.”

You laugh, pushing the door open, the bells jingling above your head as you step through. It’s just before dinner time, the sun starting to hang a little lower in the sky. The inside of your car feels like a sauna when you slide into the driver’s seat, and you blast the air conditioning, turning up the radio loud enough you can hear it over the noise. It’s a quick drive from the store to your house, and you’re too distracted by the song that’s playing on the radio to notice the rusty pick-up parked at the curb.

If it makes you happy, it can’t be that bad.

Your mother is sitting in the kitchen when you walk through the door, calling her hellos, and you dump your keys and bag before bee-lining for the bathroom. The house is all one level, one bathroom shared between the four of you, and you flick on the light, turn on the shower, strip down quickly. The warm water is a balm for the long day, the tension that had been sitting between your shoulders melting away beneath the spray.

You wrap yourself in a towel afterward, collecting your clothes from the floor before flicking the light off again. You’re still humming the song from the radio as you open the door, wiping a drop of water from your cheek and—

“Joel?”

“Shit!” he mumbles, dropping the screwdriver in his hand. He’s standing right outside the bathroom, balanced on a step-stool. Fixing the light; you remember what your father had said. You’re instantly flushed, starkly aware of the fact that you’re basically naked except for a towel, dripping water and your underwear is basically dangling from your hand. “I’m sor—fuck!” The stool wobbles and out of instinct, you grab for him, planting your hand on his stomach. He’s reaching over his head still, and the bottom of your hand meets bare skin, his t-shirt riding up slightly.

“You good?” you ask, pressing your lips together as he balances himself. You move your hand, carefully bending your knees and picking up the screwdriver from where it landed on the floor. “Here.”

“Thank you,” he says softly, taking it from you, jaw working as he chews the inside of his lip. His cheeks are as red as your whole body feels. “Sorry, I’m—”

“I should go!” you say quickly, and side-step him, bolting out of the bathroom doorway and straight into your bedroom, the door slamming shut behind you. Your clothes tumble to the ground as soon as you’re inside, clapping a hand over your mouth as the towel nearly slips off of you. “Oh my god.”

You open the store by yourself the next day, your sister claiming she has the flu, your father with a golf game he can’t miss, and your mother with ‘far too many things to do around the house’. You don’t mind it; it’s usually quiet in the mornings, with the exception of the week of Joel, where he’d shown up at nine o’clock nearly on the dot each day.

Once your father got home last night, you’d all but interrogated him. Turns out, Joel had stopped by the store late the night before, walking in just before closing, and he and your dad got to talking. When the subject of the creaky back porch and the broken hallway light came up, Joel had offered his services, and your father had accepted.

A minute after you’ve flipped the sign from closed to open and unlocked the door, a now-familiar pick-up truck pulls up to the parking spot outside the curb. You inhale sharply, nerves and embarrassment in your gut, and you turn away from the door, heading towards the counter, you back to the door as it jingles open.

Joel Miller calls your name. You nearly freeze, but continue your steps until you’re safely behind the counter. You hear his boots squeak on the floor as he approaches, but you can’t bring yourself to lift your head until he’s standing right in front of you, saying your name again.

“Morning, Joel.”

“About yesterday,” he says instantly, a hand reached into the space between you, landing in a loose fist on the countertop. “I had no idea that you were—that it would—” He blows out a breath, ducking his head before meeting your eyes. “I’m sorry, is what I’m tryin’ to say.”

“Y’know, I usually make a man buy me dinner before he sees me half-naked,” you say, the line rolling off your tongue before you can stop yourself. Joel balks, and you clap a hand over your mouth, nervous giggles pouring out of you. “Oh my god, that was cheesy, I’m sorry. And it’s okay, for the record. I should have checked the hallway before I walked out.”

He laughs, you laugh, and the idea sparks in your mind. Your hands move of their own accord, reaching for a pen and a scrap of receipt paper. You scribble out your phone number, accompanied by a little smiley face after the last digit.

“Here,” you say, pushing the paper across the counter, nudging his hand with your own. “Why don’t you take this, and maybe we can see each other someplace besides the paint aisle or outside my bathroom.” When he doesn’t answer right away, that sick feeling of rejection crawls up your throat, and you nearly snatch the paper back. “Or we could just pretend it never happened.”

“Can’t do that,” he murmurs, and his voice is so low and inviting you can’t help but lean across the counter slightly. His eyes dart to the clock on the wall and he curses under his breath. “Shit, I’m gonna be late.” He grabs the paper, folding it up and tucking it into the pocket on his t-shirt. “I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Okay,” you reply, nodding, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as he touches his hand to yours, fingers glancing over your wrist before he pulls away. He steps backward again, eyes not leaving yours. Thankfully there’s no display in his path for him to topple over, but he only looks away when he reaches the door, that almost-smile you’ve been chasing since the first day you met spreading into a full-blown grin that sends butterflies shooting through your stomach. “Bye, Joel.”

“Bye,” he replies, your name a near-whisper afterward.

As soon as the door shuts, the tinkle of bells echoing, you slump across the counter with a squeal. The bells ding again a second later, and you shoot upright, schooling your face into a normal-looking smile and greeting the customer that’s just walked through the door.

It’s nearly ten o’clock that night, when your phone rings.

You’re lounging in bed, a book propped against your knees, Sheryl Crowe crooning out of your stereo. The robotic ring makes you jump, and you hit the answer button quickly, lifting the phone to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Sorry, I know it’s late,” Joel says, and you smile, sinking deeper into the pillows. “Had a long day, and I almost didn’t call, but I really wanted to.”

“I’m glad you did,” you reply, letting the book fall shut on your lap. “What made your day so long?”

It’s easy conversation, the two of you chatting for a good hour. He talks about the job site he’s been working at, his brother that works with him, how his truck nearly broke down when he went to leave, making him late to get home. The call only comes to an end when you’re both making each other yawn, mumbling apologies every time.

“I should let you get some sleep,” Joel nearly whispers, his voice so soft through the phone you barely hear it. “Didn’t mean to keep you up so late.”

“I’m sure you can make it up to me,” you quip, rolling onto your side, keeping the phone pressed to your ear. “But I like talking to you, just for the record.”

“I like talking to you, too,” he replies, and you can hear the grin in his voice. “Just for the record.”

“Are you making fun of me?” you ask, faking shock. He laughs.

“Nah, I just like the way you talk, darlin’,” he says, and the pet name makes you shiver. “I’ll let you go.”

“You didn’t ask,” you say quickly, and he pauses, dead air on the line for a moment.

“What?”

“I said you could make it up to me,” you tell him, rolling onto your back, glancing out the window at the moon, big and white in the dark sky. “That was your opening to ask me out.”

Another pause, and you’re holding your breath, chewing your lip.

“Have dinner with me on Friday?”

You hum, beaming into the phone. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Joel barks a laugh, the biggest one you’ve gotten out of him yet, and you smile harder. “You’re trouble.”

“You’re the one having dinner with me,” you shoot back, and he laughs again, softer this time. “Goodnight, Joel.”

You can tell he’s still smiling. “Goodnight.”

#my fics #strawberry wine #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #the last of us #the last of us fic #the last of us spoilers

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cuubism · 4 months

Text

bookstore cryptid dream part 11 -- the kidnapping installment

“Whatever happened to that poetry book?” Hob asks one day, sitting with Dream in the living room. He’s not sure why it comes to him.

Dream looks up from his book on the history of chocolate, tilting his head in question.

“The cursed one,” Hob elaborates.

“Ah.” Dream closes his book, looking very serious now. “I locked it away, somewhere safe, suitable for books such as that.”

“Didn’t destroy it?”

“Releasing such magic can sometimes have… unintended consequences.” He shakes his head, as if remembering prior such instances. “Best to simply contain it.”

“How many books like that are out there?” Hob asks curiously. Every day, he learns some new thing about the world from Dream. And how dangerous some books can, apparently, be.

“There are a selection. They are rare. For most books, their power lies in the words themselves. No need for occult spells.”

“Huh.” Hob supposes that makes sense. “But you don’t lock those ones away?”

Dream shakes his head. “No. They can be dangerous, though.”

Hob is still wildly curious about these actually magic books. Not that he’d particularly enjoyed getting cursed, but still, he wonders if any such thing will ever cross his path again. He supposes he should hope not.

It is fascinating, though.

Dream is missing.

It isn’t like last time, when The Library itself had been gone. That had freaked Hob the fuck out at the time, but now, he knows what it meant — that Dream had felt The Library itself was under threat, and had locked it for safekeeping.

Now, The Library is still there. The door creaks open, unlocked, as Hob pushes on it, letting him into the tiny foyer and first winding halls of stacks. The selection changes periodically — today’s categories include HOPE & ITS DISCONTENTS, “Libraries” (rather meta, Hob thinks), Books of Emptiness (Hob takes one off the shelf out of curiosity and finds it, indeed, empty), and S P E L L S, most of which seem to be dictionaries, actually? Strange. But then, that is The Library.

This is the third day of Hob coming back to The Library in the hopes of finding Dream, and having those hopes dashed. Hope and its discontents, indeed.

Everything is in its place. But Dream is nowhere to be found. He hasn’t been coming home. His books are still on the nightstand, his cardigan forgotten on a chair in the cafe. His study is the same, too, cluttered with notes and journals, abandoned cups of coffee on desks and side tables.

It hurts Hob’s heart to look at, even more than finding The Library gone. The place feels empty without Dream there. As soon as Hob steps in the front door, he can tell Dream hasn’t returned, simply for how grey everything feels.

He hopes nothing’s happened, that Dream was just called away on some urgent errand in the middle of the day, when Hob was busy, and it’s taking him longer than expected to resolve it. Dream is criminally bad at using his phone, to the extent that Hob sometimes isn’t convinced he owns one, and might just have forgotten texting is something he can do. They’ll have to have a talk about that, because he’s giving Hob a heart attack, but still it’s the best case scenario.

But it’s the worst case scenario that’s swirling in Hob’s head.

Dream has disgruntled customers at times. He’d gotten into a fistfight with one, back when they’d first met. What if someone took their ire even further? Hell, what if the owner of that cursed poetry book came back for it?

Hob sighs, slumping into Dream’s desk chair. Even if something terrible has happened, he hasn’t the first clue how to go about finding Dream. He’s kept an eye out, while exploring The Library, for any indication of what could have happened, but to no avail. He’s well and truly starting to panic. The Library has doors everywhere. Dream could be anywhere.

His eyes land on Dream’s journals, still laid open on the desk. Normally Hob doesn’t pry into Dream’s notes. But these are dire circumstances. Hob’s going to lose it if he doesn’t do something.

He picks up the top notebook and reads the entry it’s open to:

— MG thought destroyed ack. lost 1916? JC report OAM magic picked up Sussex summoning what??

Hob groans. “Dream, could your notes be any more fucking unintelligible?” Apparently, his mind works too fast to write in full words, instead of just shorthand.

He flips through a few more pages of notes, skimming them, but not getting much. Then a few pages in, he finds a letter tucked into the journal. In someone else’s handwriting, it reads:

Dream—

You never use your goddamn fucking phone so here’s a note. You know I wouldn’t have to be so obscure if we could just use encrypted texts? Fucking luddite. Anyway. I found the damn thing. R.B. + Co. Pretty sure we’d know if they succeeded in using it so we still have time. I think I have a way in. If I retrieve can you neutralize it? AND FUCKING CALL ME WE’RE SHORT ON TIME!

—JC

In case you forgot how phones work: 020 9281 5555

Well, that’s something. The same JC from the notes? What exactly are the two of them trying to neutralize?

Hob has no idea. But at least he has a clue now.

Hob paces back and forth in his living room as he calls the number for “JC”, absolutely no idea who he’s going to get on the other end. But hopefully, they might know what’s happened to Dream.

“Hello?” A gruff woman’s voice answers the line.

“Hi, I’m looking for…” he doesn’t actually know her name. “…J?”

“What?”

“Look, I’m looking for Dream,” Hob says in a rush. Might as well lay it all out. “I’m his boyfriend. He’s been missing for three days.” Maybe “missing” is overstating it. But maybe it’s understating it. “I found your phone number in his notes and wanted to know if you’d seen him.”

“Likely story, pal,” she says with a scoff. “Dream keeps his boyfriend out of all the occult shit. And good thing, too. I wish I could keep myself out of it. What do you really want with him?”

It’s sort of gratifying that other people in Dream’s circle are also protective of his secrets, even if it’s frustrating in the moment. But, ‘keeps him out of the occult shit’? Exactly how much ‘occult shit’ is Dream dealing with on a regular basis?

“Exactly what I said,” Hob says. “He doesn’t usually disappear like this. His notes said you two were looking for something? Something dangerous?” Did Dream go after it? Is that what happened?

“MOTHERFUCKER!” she screams, and Hob pulls the phone from his ear with a wince. “I am going to KILL HIM!”

“Don’t hang up!” Hob yells before she can do just that. “Will you come meet me? I’ll give you my own address, if it helps. You know where The Library is?”

“The Library’s got multiple doors, mate,” she says, sounding marginally calmer now.

Right. Fuck. He gives her the actual street name this time, and she says—

“Be there in a mo’. Your idiot boyfriend’s got himself in a right mess I expect. Because he’s a fucking idiot.”

Just as Hob feared, then. “Tell me about it when you get here,” he says, and then, when she’s hung up, goes to gather Dream’s journals.

A smart, tough-looking woman greets him at the door to the cafe, which Hob’s closed for the time being, an hour or so later. “Johanna Constantine,” she says, sticking out a hand, which Hob shakes. “So you really are the boyfriend. Huh. Hob, right?”

“Yeah.” Hob isn’t sure whether to be touched or alarmed that Dream talks about him with his random occult acquaintances.

“He has a photo of you two on his phone,” Johanna explains. “Not that he uses it, the rat bastard. God I’m going to murder him when I find him.”

“Let’s sit down,” Hob suggests. He has coffee ready, more for something to do to still his restless hands while waiting than anything.

“Right,” Johanna says, as she sits down at a table. She gratefully takes the coffee he offers. “So, I’m choosing to trust you. If you fuck me over we will have a serious problem. Okay?”

Hob raises his hands in surrender. “I literally just want to find Dream. I’m worried sick about him.”

Johanna takes a long sip of her coffee. “Right. So. My business is managing occult stuff, yeah? Exorcisms and the like. Stopping it before it hurts anyone. I’ve been trying to track down this particular book. Spell book. Dangerous stuff. What it can do—doesn’t matter. It was thought lost for ages, or destroyed—wouldn’t that have been great. But Dream and I both wanted to get it off the streets, once it popped up again. There’s no good hands for that book to be in.”

“You two friends?” Hob asks.

“Eh,” says Johanna, “sorta. Mostly work friends, I guess. I first got Dream’s help with a spell book a few years back. He’s the best one to go to for that sort of thing, as I’m sure you can imagine.”

“Yeah,” Hob agrees, mulling over this whole side of Dream’s business he didn’t know about. It makes sense, though. Dream, the expert on all books. Even this book, whatever it is, must ultimately belong to The Library.

“And now he’s gone after this book,” Hob guesses. “By himself.”

“I told him I would retrieve it,” Johanna says, gritting her teeth. “All I wanted was his help locking the thing away after. But no. Had to do it all himself.” She sighs.

“It must have really concerned him,” Hob says.

“It concerned me!” Johanna exclaims. “All the more reason not to go alone! Idiot.” It’s said with fondness, though.

“So, what are we going to do?” Hob asks.

“We?” says Johanna, raising an eyebrow.

“Listen, I don’t care about the book—”

“You should,” Johanna says seriously.

“—Well, I don’t. But I do care about Dream. If he’s in trouble, then I’m not just going to sit here.”

Johanna looks at him appraisingly, then nods, satisfied. “Good,” she says. “I know who has the Grimoire, so I know where he’ll most likely have gone. How good are you with a cricket bat?”

“How about a knife?” Hob says.

She startles. “Christ. Alright, then. I won’t ask, but good.”

“Just tell me where to go, and I’ll be there,” Hob says seriously, and for the first time, she gives him a smile.

“I’ve been hoping for an excuse to give Roderick Burgess a good thrashing. Guy’s a prick. Alright, Dream’s boyfriend—let’s go get the stupid librarian."

It’s decided Hob should be the initial decoy because, according to Johanna, “people always think I mean trouble, and you have this sort of wholesome coffee shop owner thing going on. Knife skills aside.”

Hob’s not sure if it’s a compliment or not.

“He’ll definitely think he can scam you,” Johanna adds. That one’s definitely not a compliment.

So Hob goes to an event Roderick Burgess is hosting, showing off all his antiques. He brings with him an old book from The Library, ostensibly to “sell”. Forgive me, Dream, he thinks, as he pulls Magicks of the World off the shelf. Promise I won’t let him keep it.

It’ll get him in, he hopes. It’ll get Roderick Burgess’s attention, at least enough to let Johanna slip past. The book is proper old, nearly falling apart, and while it may not be actually magic, it at least is about magic. He hopes it’s enough.

“Remember,” Johanna says, as they’re stepping up to the door, “just keep his attention. I’ll search the house to see if I can find Dream, or the Grimoire.”

“You really think he’s keeping Dream hostage in this house?” Hob asks incredulously.

Johanna snorts. “If he thinks Dream can help him decode the thing? Yeah, absolutely. I told you. Guy’s a selfish prick.”

That seemed to be putting it lightly.

Hob isn’t sure he’ll be content with being the distraction if he finds out Roderick actually has Dream captive. But he calms himself for the time being.

Hob absolutely hates Roderick Burgess the second he lays eyes on him.

He’s managed to corner Burgess in the sitting room of the old manor house. His book in one hand, drink in the other. The man is fucking seedy. Hob could tell immediately, even if Burgess pretended at gentility.

Hob’s already decided that Roderick does have Dream locked in a room somewhere. Call it instinct.

Roderick gives Magicks of the World a look of cool disinterest as Hob hands it to him, but it shifts to grudging surprise. “This is actually old,” he says. “Unlike the fake crap people keep trying to pawn off on me.”

“I was told you had a discerning eye,” Hob says with false admiration. “1612. Genuine article.”

“Hm. This is of some interest,” says Roderick. “Come to my office.”

Hob follows him, hoping Johanna is having some success finding Dream.

Roderick’s office is much neater than Dream’s study. it feels like the affected study of someone trying to come acrossas a studious gentleman. Hob hates it.

And there on the desk is a thick, leather-bound volume that Hob knows instantly is the book Dream and Johanna have been looking for. He isn’t sure exactly how he knows. He isn’t at all magical. But he just knows. He can feel the eerie energy of the thing.

“I’ll give you six hundred pounds for it,” Roderick says, laying Magicks on the desk.

Hob startles. That’s actually a lot of money for a single book. Sorry, Dream, he thinks.

“Where did you get it?” Roderick asks.

“Old bookshop,” Hob says. “Don’t think they knew what they had.”

“They never do,” Roderick muses.

He hands Hob six hundred pounds, cash. Hob takes it, dumbfounded.

“Tell me,” he says, pretending hesitance. “I only know how to tell the age. How to know if it’s genuine. The magic stuff—that’s beyond me. How do you make sense of it?”

“I have my sources,” says Roderick. He seems to delight in being enigmatic. “There are… certain experts. If one knows where to look.”

Certain experts. Hob grits his teeth. “You willing to share a name? I have a few books myself I’d love to get better appraised.”

“I’m keeping that to myself for now. Trade secrets, you know.” He smiles to himself, meanly. “Valuable sources, those, in this business.”

Hob decides two things. One: he can definitely take down an old man. Two: he doesn’t care if he goes to prison.

He picks up a heavy statue from the desk and, before Roderick can react, cracks him across the head with it.

Roderick drops like a stone, and Hob snatches up both Magicks and the Grimoire, and flees.

Shit. That might have been ill-advised. What if Dream isn’t in the house, and Hob just caused permanent brain damage to the one person who might know where he is? Shit.

Nothing for it now. He hurries through the halls, books under his arm. He turns a corner, then another, and where the bloody hell is he? Then—

He nearly runs directly into Johanna and Dream.

Hob thrusts the books at Johanna, and takes Dream in his arms instead, pulling him into a tight hug. Dream hugs him back, pressing his face into Hob’s neck with a soft little sound.

He looks rough. His hair is a disaster—more than usual—and he’s wearing the same clothes Hob vaguely remembers him putting on that morning several days ago, before he disappeared.

“Hey,” Hob whispers, “I was really worried about you.”

“‘m sorry,” Dream murmurs, clutching at him.

“This was extremely fucking stupid, Dream,” Johanna says, in a tone that suggests she’s said so already. There’s worry there too, though.

“Yes, point taken,” Dream says.

“I love you,” Hob murmurs against his cheek, before pulling away to look at him properly.

There’s a bruise on Dream’s cheek that makes Hob very glad he smacked Roderick upside the head with a statue. More than that, he looks a bit… haunted. Hob will have to get more details later. Right now, they need to get out of here.

“Where the fuck is Roderick?” Johanna demands.

“I might have killed him,” Hob says, not feeling very bad about it. “Not totally sure.”

“No loss,” says Johanna, holding the books tightly.

Hob keeps Dream close. Dream is looking at him in wonder. Like Hob is the last possible thing he had expected to see. Freedom itself.

Hob kisses his forehead. And then they get the fuck out of there.

“You should really rest, Dream,” Hob says.

Dream is currently doing something to the Grimoire. Binding the pages. He doesn’t seem willing to let it go until he’s made the thing safe.

He sighs. “In a moment.”

“Dream…”

Dream finally puts the book away in a drawer in his desk, kneels before the desk, and draws some complicated symbol on the wood. Perhaps he had done the same with the poetry book, Hob thinks.

Though Hob suspects that the Grimoire is significantly more dangerous.

Finally Dream stands. He seems… a bit listless, now, having finished with the book. Even in the soft lighting of the Library study, the awful bruise on his face is stark, a deep plum mark. He looks at Hob, hands twisting together, expression vulnerable.

Hob’s heart hurts. He hopes he did kill Roderick. But now, he holds out his hands to Dream.

Dream steps over to him, and Hob brings him into an embrace. Holds him tight. Whatever determination had kept Dream going thus far seems to evaporate, then, and he sags against Hob, trembling slightly.

“Let’s go home, yeah?” Hob murmurs against his hair.

“Yes,” Dream sighs.

He locks up the study, which Hob has never seen him do before, and then, once they’re downstairs, locks The Library’s front door as well. He leaves a sign that says, “Closed for the time being.”

Hob leads him across the street, back upstairs to his flat above the cafe, and steers him to the bathroom. He perches him on the edge of the tub as he turns on the tap and lets the hot water fill up.

Dream is still shivering a little. The poor thing is probably desperate for a bath, not to mention food, Christ.

“What did he want with you?” Hob asks, helping Dream out of his jumper. Dream winces as he pulls it off over his head, and Hob grits his teeth. “Did he hurt you?”

“He had been trying to use the Grimoire,” Dream says, as Hob kneels to help him with his slacks. “But there was a symbol he could not decode. My… approach… to try to take the book back was… not as clever as I had hoped, and I was intercepted. He demanded I translate it. When I refused…” he trails off. He’s naked now, and Hob can see a dark bruise stretching up his thigh, another working its way up his back and over his shoulder. “Well, he did not take well to being told ‘no.’”

“Bastard,” Hob swears, and Dream’s lips quirk up.

“Quite.”

Hob kisses the bruise on Dream’s thigh—if only that would do more to actually heal it—and Dream smiles faintly.

“What’s that book do anyway?” Hob asks.

“It’s meant to summon Death,” says Dream, and Hob feels a chill, like the universe itself is protesting that possibility. “I do not think it has ever been successfully used. But the magic is certainly potent enough.”

“Good thing you got it back, then,” says Hob. He helps Dream up, then supports him as he steps into the tub, sinking down into the warm water with a sigh.

Hob strips off his own clothes and follows him, slipping behind Dream and pulling him back to his chest. Dream leans his head against Hob’s shoulder.

“That was all very silly, you know,” Hob says against his cheek, arms wrapped around Dream’s middle. “I was very worried about you.”

“I am sorry,” murmurs Dream. “It was… poorly thought out.”

“Just a bit.”

“But,” says Dream, a hint of wonder in his voice, “you came to rescue me.”

Hob kisses his cheek. “Of course.”

“Hob…” starts Dream. “How may I say this… you are not exactly a rough type I would expect to be performing heists.”

“Hey, you don’t know everything about me,” Hob says indignantly. “Second, you’re a librarian, and you tried to break into the man’s damn house first. Thirdly—”

“And yet,” Dream interrupts, “you still came to help me. Roderick Burgess is a dangerous man. That was ill-advised.”

“Didn’t seem very dangerous when I smacked him in the head.”

“I am saying I appreciate it,” says Dream, with a little chuckle. “All the more so for the danger you put yourself in.”

“You’re my boyfriend,” Hob says. “I love you. Of course I came after you. Don’t be silly.”

He wishes he had gotten there sooner. He chokes up, thinking of Dream stuck in some room, uncertain of any rescue. He tucks his face into Dream’s shoulder, tears beading along his lashes. “Poor darling.”

Dream reaches up and strokes his hair. “I’d be curious to hear about your criminal past sometime,” he murmurs, which has Hob chuckling. “Did you really kill Roderick Burgess?”

“Dunno,” says Hob. “Hope so.”

“My boyfriend is more dangerous than I thought,” Dream observes, lips tugging up. He sounds quite satisfied about it, and Hob kisses the corner of his lips.

“If he comes back I’ll kill him again,” he says.

Dream shivers, leaning more heavily against him. “You’ve unlocked the two keys to my heart,” he whispers, and it’s only partly joking.

“Oh yeah?” Hob says, lips still brushing his cheek. “Violence committed on your behalf is one?”

Dream nods.

“What’s the other, then?”

Dream’s lips twitch. “Scones.”

“I’ll have to fulfill that one in a few minutes then, too,” Hob says, grinning.

“So you shall.”

“Would it make you doubly horny if I killed somebody with a scone?” Hob asks. “Or—?”

Dream turns around in his lap to kiss him, wrapping his hands around the back of Hob’s neck. Hob rocks back with the force of the kiss, leaning back against the tub. “Yes,” Dream declares, and gives Hob another peck on the lips.

“I’ll find someone to kill,” Hob promises. “You have anyone in mind?”

Dream giggles. Joy looks good on him, after everything. He tucks his nose in against Hob’s shoulder again, and Hob holds him close, runs a hand up and down over his back, careful of the bruises.

“I will think of something,” Dream promises.

Hob kisses his temple, and resolves to keep a closer eye on his boyfriend’s supernatural activities in the future.

And to buy Johanna Constantine a drink some time, too.

#dreamling #bookstore cryptid dream #even dream the cryptid librarian isn't immune to getting put in the bowl. so to speak #dream of the endless #hob gadling #the sandman #my writing #i've read through this many times hopefully there are no more typos XD

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blues824 · 9 months

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Hi there! I hope you don't mind if you have time to write my request about Ciel Phantomhive and Sebastian with nb! or fem! reader as malleus?

What’s up, Anon? I put reader as having horns, but no other description is used.

Ciel Phantomhive

Her Royal Majesty had requested that he host you in the Phantomhive house. He didn’t want to let the Queen down, so he had his staff prepare for your arrival. By ‘his staff’, I mean Sebastian because there is no way that Mey-Rin, Bard, and Finny would be able to accomplish the tasks given to them.

Then you arrived. The most noticeable thing about you was your horns, but Ciel was not intimidated. He had a demon for a butler, after all. He showed you to the room where you would be staying, and you had a surprisingly friendly and polite demeanor. He left you to go get settled in, and went straight to his renowned butler to ask about you and your background.

The things he learned about you were pretty shocking, like how you were a dragon fae from a land called ‘Twisted Wonderland’. It sounded like something he would read about in a novel, not see in real-life. He wanted to get to know you personally, though, so he went to your room and invited you to a game of chess in his study.

Imagine his surprise when you managed to beat him at a board game that he thought he was invincible at. Your cunning mind really intrigued him, so he proposed that he take you around London as your prize. You agreed, and were very excited to see the city that you hadn’t had much of a chance to explore yet. You asked if there were any abandoned buildings or gargoyles, and he said there might be a few.

The excitement on your face as he led you around the streets of the city made him want you to stay so that he could continue bringing wonder to you. The look of happiness on your face when he brought you to an ice cream vendor to try some of the cold treat was one that he wished he could see forever.

Sebastian Michaelis

The young master had informed him that you would be staying at the Phantomhive Manor and he received orders to get the Manor ready. Sebastian, being Sebastian, wanted to make sure that everything was in pristine condition because there was no way that a member of a far away royal family would be housed in anything less than perfection, so he told each of the staff members to not touch anything.

When you arrived, he was standing right beside Ciel and greeted you by bowing and welcoming you to the Manor. Ciel told him to get your things to your room as he showed you around, and that’s when Sebastian noticed your horns. He knew that you weren’t a demon, as a demon typically doesn’t show any horns, so you must have been some other creature.

Well, as he finally led you to where you would be staying, he asked what sort of being you were. You really didn’t want to tell him, but you could feel the magic within him. He was sort of like you, so you felt as though he wouldn’t be scared of you. You told him that you were a dragon fae from a realm called Twisted Wonderland, and that you were the Crowned Heir to one of the many lands within said realm, Briar Valley. It was all very intriguing to the demon butler, as he had never been.

During your stay, it was rather unfortunate that he had so many chores to do when you wanted to talk to him. So, you offered to help him. He at first refused, saying that it would be very improper for a member of visiting royalty to do chores, but you told him that it would give you a normal person’s experience, something necessary for when you are crowned the reigning monarch. He smiled at the loophole, before handing you the rag that he was using to dust the library.

It allowed you both to get to know each other, but he never revealed what he was. You just knew that he wasn’t a human, and that no harm would come to you in his presence; not just because you are the most powerful mage in this world, but also because you are under the protection of Queen Victoria, who already sees you as another one of her children.

#kuroshitsuji x reader #kuroshitsuji #black butler #black butler x reader #ciel x reader #black butler ciel #ciel #ciel phantomhive x reader #ciel phantomhive #sebastian michaelis x reader #sebastian x reader #black butler sebastian #sebastian #sebastian michaelis

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punkshort · 6 months

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Summary: You and Joel explore an abandoned library and you get under each other's skin.

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!reader, established relationship, set in the TWWW universe, no use of Y/N. (Can be read as stand alone, only backstory that needs to be known is Joel was once reader's boss but I included a small blurb about it to explain)

Warnings: language, smut (MDNI 18+), roleplay, dom/sub dynamic (very light, nothing extreme), dirty talk, oral (m receiving), spanking, unprotected piv sex, rough sex, creampie (don't do this, muy dangerous)

Word count: 5.7K

A/N: if anyone wants to be removed from the taglist, just shoot me a quick message or comment. I kept the same list from the main story but I don't know if you want to be included in the one-shots.

May 2006

"I could kill Tommy for tellin' you 'bout that place," Joel grumbled as he shoved food in your backpack. You lifted your head from the paper you were scrutinizing on your kitchen counter to look at him.

"Oh, come on. It's a quick trip, we'll be back around dinner," you told him, looking back down at your list.

Tommy and Joel had recently found a small, abandoned town in the mountains. One day, after they had come back from a supply run to pick over anything useful, Tommy mentioned at dinner that there was a library in town.

Joel had groaned and immediately buried his face in his hands the moment the words left Tommy's mouth. You had just been telling Joel that you and Carrie were looking for some textbooks, so the two of you got to work writing up any type of topic either of you could use for gardening and medicine.

He tried arguing with you, he tried begging you. He tried offering to do the trip himself, but nothing worked. You had told him he could either come with you and help carry the books back, or you would find someone else. Of course, he caved.

"Please, just gimme the list, I'll take care of it for you," he tried pleading once more, but you shook your head as you shouldered your backpack and shoved your handgun in the back of your pants.

"Joel, we talked about this," you said, swinging the door open and marching down the steps, heading towards the stables. It was early. The town was about a four hour ride away from Jackson. You wanted to get a move on so you could be back before dark.

"Hardly," he scoffed, catching up with you. "Didn't exactly come up with a compromise."

"Sure we did," you told him, turning the corner of your street. "The compromise was you coming with me."

He huffed and stayed quiet until you reached the stables. You always had this way of making him feel like he was in charge, but in reality, you ended up winning any disagreement you've ever had. He was grumbling to himself, wondering how on earth you managed to talk him into this when you turned and tossed him a bright smile over your shoulder with a wink, and he felt his heart flutter. Oh, that's how.

Carl already had a horse saddled up for you when you arrived. You expressed your gratitude, especially considering how early it was, and led the mare out of the barn. Joel shoved his foot in the stirrup and swung his leg over the saddle, settling in before reaching an arm down to help you up. You wrapped your arms around his waist and gave the back of his neck a quick kiss before you pressed the side of your face into his shoulder blades.

He sighed as he led the horse through the gates and towards the woods. He didn't used to be this soft. People used to do what he asked, when he asked, and they thanked him for it. You were never one of those people, though. From day one, you stood your ground and never let him shake you. Even his own brother dreaded Joel's outbursts at work. Men used to cower at him on job sites when Joel demanded answers on why something was done wrong, or why a job was taking longer than it should. He was never a people pleaser, and he didn't care. He got the job done, he got results and he made a lot of money doing it.

Then you were hired a few months before the outbreak and turned his world upside down. He found himself going out of his way to try to cross paths with you. He looked forward to the monthly meetings he had with your department just so he could catch glimpses of you throughout the hour. Then, there were the few times you found yourself in his office, delivering reports or checks for him. Those moments lingered with him for days, itching until the next time he got you alone again.

It all worked out in the end, but there was a big misunderstanding that drove a wedge between you. Before you had a chance to work it out, the outbreak hit, and you both ended up traveling across the country together, seeking safety while trying to stay alive. He often wished he had a chance to have a normal relationship with you, one that didn't include life or death scenarios, but one that included traveling, theater, dinners and drinks. If only he hadn't wasted so much time before.

"You're so quiet, are you okay?" you asked him, your breath tickling his ear. He smiled to himself, enjoying the feeling of your body pressed against his. This wasn't so bad, either.

"I'm fine. Just wish you'd listen to me now and then. Last time we left Jackson, things didn't turn out so great," he mumbled, still partially annoyed about the trip, worried about your safety outside the walls he helped build.

"Well, I don't know about that. I seem to remember you having a good time in the end," you teased, and his breath hitched in his throat.

"Quit tryin' to distract me," he said gruffly, knowing your game well enough by now to tell when you were trying to take the focus off of anything bad.

"Sorry," you whispered, not wanting to push your luck. Joel sighed, feeling guilty.

"Just... promise you'll listen to me when we're out here? No dawdlin', and don't leave my sight. If I tell you we gotta wrap it up, we wrap it up. Understood?"

A shiver went down your spine at his domineering tone.

"Yes, sir," you said obediently, smirking into his back. You didn't want to push his buttons, but it was so easy, and you always got excited at the chance to explore outside of Jackson. You never thought you'd want to leave once you discovered the safety within the walls, but you found you eventually became a little stir crazy. A quick trip like this one would scratch that itch for a while, you just wish Joel understood you wanted a little freedom.

"Hey, what'd I say? Stay behind me," Joel hissed as you moved through the library. He had just been there less than a week ago with Tommy, but that didn't mean anything. You rolled your eyes when he turned his head and fell back behind him, your gun drawn at your side. It was an old building in desperate need of updating, the hardwood floors squeaked with nearly every step you took. If anyone or anything was in there, you'd know it by now considering the amount of noise you were making. You knew he had every reason to be anxious, and you tried to be understanding, but you were getting annoyed.

Once he finally determined the building was empty, you happily got to work examining the aisles, pulling books off the shelves and carrying huge stacks over to a conference room and piling them on top of the long, wooden table. You imagined local students maybe booked this room in the past to study or work on projects, considering the room was so close to the reference section.

Joel stayed close, but he paced around a bit, clutching his rifle as he routinely peeked out the windows. He knew there was a slim to none chance he would spot anything. He and Tommy had been to this town three times already, and he never saw a thing. But he refused to take any chances. Not with you.

Bored, he wandered down a row of books, idly reading the titles on the spines as he listened to you drop more heavy books on the table. He paused when he saw a familiar title and shouldered his rifle. He picked the book up and skimmed the first few pages. He leaned up against the bookshelf as he continued to read, completely losing track of time until he realized he hadn't heard you make any noise in a while. He paused and flicked his eyes up, listening closely for any sound from the conference room, but he heard none. He dropped the book and hurried down the aisle, rounding the corner as his head whipped around, looking down the aisles for you as he jogged.

The door to the conference room was wide open as he barged in, glancing around the small room, but you were no where to be found.

"Shit," he whispered, his heart thudding in his chest as he tried to keep the panic at bay. He turned around to check out the other side of the library, whisper-shouting your name as he went. His chest was beginning to constrict as all the worst case scenarios flooded his mind. She had a gun, she would have fired a shot if she was in trouble.

Just when he thought he was going to completely lose it, you emerged from the last row of books with a few paperbacks tucked under your arm. You saw Joel and gave him a smile before you could register the look on his face. He let out a huge breath he hadn't realized he was holding before he grabbed you roughly by the shoulders, making you frown.

"What'd I fuckin' say?!" he seethed, giving your shoulders a harsh shake.

"Excuse me?" you said, squirming away from his grasp.

"I said 'don't leave my sight', and what'd you do?" he said, raising his voice at you. His jaw was clenched as he stared daggers into you. You scoffed and pushed past him, heading back to the conference room.

"I'm an adult, Joel. Stop treating me like a child," you said over your shoulder. "Besides, you were the one who disappeared. I couldn't find you to tell you where I was going."

"I don't fuckin' care, you wait til I'm back and then we go together," he growled, following you back towards the other side of the building. You whipped around to glare at him, making him skid to a stop on the worn out wooden floors.

"I get why you're worried, Joel, I really do, and I appreciate your concern. But I just want a little freedom to live my life. And you're not the boss of me!" you snapped, throwing your free hand up in the air before turning on your heel, back to the privacy of the conference room. You just wanted to pick the best books possible based on what you and Carrie needed so you could get the hell out of there and go home.

Joel's blood ran hot at your words. He remained rooted to the ground where you left him, seething, as he replayed your argument in his head. Maybe he overreacted, but he was too pissed off to think clearly. Blood rushed in his ears as he angrily raked a hand through his hair, thinking again about how soft you've made him. He never considered it a bad thing before, but out in this world when he needed you to just listen to him, it could be a bad thing. You've always been capable, he knew that, but there's been too many close calls in the past and your safety was his only concern. He couldn't risk losing you, it wasn't an option.

He took a few deep breaths in an attempt to stomp out his anger, running his palm over his mouth as he paced back and forth, gripping his revolver. Your words just kept bouncing around in his head over and over. Then he stopped, letting his hand drop from his mouth as he stared at a fixed point on the wall, thinking about your last words: you're not the boss of me.

He shoved his revolver back in his holster and he walked calmly over to the conference room. He leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed, watching as you stood in front of the table, diligently checking your list and sifting through piles of books, setting aside the ones you wanted to take by tossing them with a grunt towards the empty duffel bag next to the table.

He could tell you were still angry. You refused to look up at him, even though you knew full well he was standing there watching you. Your mouth was pressed into a thin line and your brows furrowed while you worked, determined to ignore him.

"Sit," he commanded, his voice firm. You stopped what you were doing and sighed before you met his gaze.

"Joel, I really don't feel like -"

"Nuh uh. Wasn't up for debate. And that's Mr. Miller, to you," he said, staring you down. You froze, confused, as you searched his eyes for any playfulness, but found none. You hadn't sat down, but you hadn't said anything either, the gears still turning in your head.

"You said I ain't the boss of you," he told you, pushing himself off the doorframe as he entered the room, sliding the rifle from his shoulder and leaning it against the wall. "But you forget, sweetheart, there was a time I was. Maybe you need to be reminded," he said lowly, his fists coming to rest on the table across from you as he leaned forward, issuing a challenge.

He could see the realization click. Your breathing quickened and your cheeks had a light dusting of pink across them as you slowly lowered yourself into the chair behind you, keeping your eyes glued to his face. He held back the smirk that threatened to pull across his lips, refusing to break the facade.

"So you can do what you're told," he murmured, leaning back from the table, looking down at you. You still didn't say anything, but the anxious tapping of your finger on your leg gave you away. He slowly made his way around the table, his eyes never leaving your face. You kept your head straight, looking ahead at the empty doorway, but you studied him from your peripheral as he approached.

He came to a stop right next to you and watched as your lips parted to accommodate your need for more air, your chest rising and falling faster than usual under your V neck T-shirt, where he could just make out the swell of your breasts from his angle. He hummed appreciatively and reached out a finger to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, taking pride in the way your breath caught in your throat.

"Did you get those reports for me, sweetheart?" he asked quietly, dragging a knuckle gently down your cheek and watching as the heat crawled up your neck.

It took you a moment to understand the game, but you caught up. And once you did, it felt like you had been transported back in time. You were reminded of how painfully nervous he used to make you, but instead of putting you off, it was making you squirm in your chair with anticipation.

"No," you all but whispered, then cleared your throat so he could hear you. "No. Didn't have enough time, I'm sorry Mr. Miller."

Still staring straight ahead, you felt rather than saw him stiffen next to you, and you swallowed roughly. He tsked and shook his head with a sigh. He gripped the back of your chair and flattened his palm on the table, leaning in so he was mere inches from your face.

"You wanna explain to me what's more important than the reports I asked for?" he growled in your ear, and he watched you visibly shudder. When you took too long to respond, he spun you around to face him so fast, it pulled a gasp from your throat, and you had to reach out to grip the arms of your chair in order to steady yourself.

"Answer me," he demanded through gritted teeth, his hand coming from the back of your chair to grip your chin firmly. It took you by surprise how into this he was, and somewhere in the back of your mind you wondered if this had been building up for a while, but you pushed the thought away, trying to focus on the moment.

"I overslept," you squeaked out, inwardly cringing at the lame excuse. But Joel didn't miss a beat. He dropped your chin from his hand and straightened up, still glaring down at you.

"You overslept," he repeated, disappointment dripping from his words as he stared down at you. You slowly dragged your eyes up to meet his. Looking up at him meekly, you nodded.

"See, that ain't good," he told you with a shake of his head, crossing his arms. "How do you expect to make it if you're so goddamn irresponsible?"

You briefly wondered if he was still pretending or if he was trying to warn you about survival, but again, you pushed that thought away for another time.

"Can I make it up to you?" you asked him shyly, shifting your weight as the ache between your legs grew, desperately needing attention. You saw a flicker in his eyes at your question, but he refused to break.

"Gonna have to fire you, I'm afraid," he said sadly. "I've fired people for less, and you need to learn."

"Please, I'll do anything," you begged him, scooting to the edge of your seat.

"Anythin', hm?" he repeated back to you, quirking an eyebrow. You nodded eagerly as you finally allowed your gaze to flick down to his jeans, his belt right at eye level from where you sat. You could see his erection straining against the denim, and your tongue shot out to lick your lips instinctually.

Joel let a lazy smirk tug across his face.

"You wanna suck on the boss's cock, huh?" he asked you teasingly, and again, you nodded, your adrenaline squeezing your throat to the point where you had trouble finding your voice.

"Go ahead, then. I ain't stoppin' ya," he said, his voice gravelly, his accent thick. Your hands flew up from your lap to his belt, fumbling with the buckle until you pulled the leather loose, then got to work popping the button on his jeans and carefully pulled the zipper down. All the while, Joel watched you through heavy lidded eyes, his breath only stuttering momentarily when you took him in your hand and began to slowly pump him up and down.

You looked up to him for approval as you twisted your wrist, your thumb swiping over his slit and dragging his precum down his shaft with your fingers.

"Don't got all day," he snapped. "You either want this job, or you don't."

"I want it," you whispered, your eyes glazed over with lust.

"Then fuckin' show me," he said, thrusting his hips into your hand. His mask slipped slightly when your lips wrapped around the tip of his cock, a low groan rumbling from his chest as his eyes slid shut.

"Shit," he whispered to himself as you pulled him in deeper, your tongue swirling around his girth while your head bobbed up and down, taking him in further and further each time. Your fist gripped his base to hold him steady, your swollen lips brushing against your fingers as you did your best to take him down your throat. His hand tangled in your hair, and you whimpered when his hips jutted forward, triggering your gag reflex. You sputtered around him before you pulled away with a sharp gasp, tears pricking the corners of your eyes.

He hooked a finger under your chin and dragged your watery eyes up to meet his. He tutted and shook his head, trying to ignore how his cock twitched when he saw your wrecked face.

"Am I too big for that pretty little mouth?" he asked you, and your mind bounced back and forth between answers.

"Yes. I-I mean, no, I can do it, let me try again," you stammered, reaching out to him before he smacked your hand away.

"Up," he commanded, and this time you didn't hesitate. You shot up from your chair so fast, your head was spinning.

"Take 'em off," he told you, his eyes flicking down to your pants. You quickly slid out of your boots and shimmied out of your jeans while Joel watched you, his hand lazily stroking himself as you worked. You were about to pull down your panties when he stopped you.

"Not those," he said roughly, and you gulped and nodded. You had never seen this side of him before, and you felt like your brain was short circuiting. Sure, he used to be gruff and a bit of an asshole when you first met, but whenever you had slept together, he was usually very soft and attentive. He tilted his head towards the table.

"Hands," was all he told you, and you immediately turned to flatten your sweaty palms against the old, smooth wood. You hardly ever found a reason to be embarrassed around him anymore, but when he tapped your ankle to make your legs widen and he spread your ass so he could see the mess you had made between your legs, you felt the heat burning into your cheeks.

You jutted your hips back, eager to feel his fingers on your aching center, but he refused to touch you where you needed him most. Instead, he slid his cock between your legs, rubbing himself against your clothed heat, languidly thrusting back and forth.

"Joel," you whined, the ache inside you becoming painful. Your eyes shot open and you let out a yelp when his hand came down on your ass, your skin stinging from the aftershock.

"What'd you call me?" he muttered angrily in your ear. You had no idea how he was able to restrain himself this long when you thought your legs were already about to give out from under you.

"M-Mr. Miller. I'm sorry," you moaned, your head falling forward between your shoulders as he continued to rub himself against you.

"Messin' up a lot today," he mumbled behind you. You screwed your eyes shut as the tip of his cock prodded your clit, your lower abdomen tightening with each thrust. Joel watched each time he pulled back as his cock glistened with your arousal, even through your underwear, your inner thighs were slick and wet. Knowing you couldn't see him, he allowed a grin to spread across his lips, loving how docile he made you in a matter of minutes.

"Please," you whimpered, desperately begging for him to relieve you.

"Please what?" he shot back, squeezing your hips as he continued to drag his cock against your folds.

"Please fuck me, Mr. Miller," you croaked, on the brink of tears. Joel chuckled at the strain in your voice.

"First sensible thing you said all day," he told you, pushing his jeans and boxers further down his legs. "But tell me why I should listen to you, when you don't bother listenin' to me?"

"I'll listen!" you cried out, your fist pounding on the table in frustration. "I'll listen... just, please," you said softer now, "please, please, please." You sounded pathetic, begging for him bent over a rickety old table in some beat up town, but you only had one primary need at the moment, and you couldn't think about anything else.

"Good girl," he whispered against your ear, and you shuddered underneath him. He hooked a finger inside the soaked fabric and pulled them to the side, revealing your aching cunt to him. He hissed through his teeth, desperate to touch you but he knew you wanted it even more, so he refrained.

He lined his leaking cock up against you, just barely touching you, but the contact made your whole body jump, your nerve endings acting like fireworks under your skin.

"Gotta be still," he muttered, and he waited for your breath to even out and your body to stop fidgeting before he continued. He leaned forward, his lips grazing the shell of your ear.

"I ain't gonna be gentle," he warned you, then dropped his voice to a whisper before adding "tell me if it's too much." You whined and tipped your head back, but he waited until he heard you whisper back okay before pushing himself inside you with one quick motion, bottoming out with a heavy groan.

Your walls fluttered around him at the sudden intrusion, frantically trying to accommodate his size as he pulled back and slammed into you again and again, punching the air from your lungs.

"Oh, fuck," you cried out, falling to your elbows on the table. His grip on you was sure to leave marks as he pulled your hips back against him over and over, driving himself as deep as possible inside you. The burn that was akin to pain quickly dissolved to pleasure as your body relaxed and welcomed him in, the tip of his cock nudging against your cervix with each snap of his hips.

Two leftover tears fell from your eyes and landed on the table when you squeezed them shut, your jaw slack as he rammed into you, each time hearing a soft grunt from his throat from the effort. He leaned forward and ran a hand under your shirt and up your stomach, yanking down on your bra and freeing your right breast, which he greedily squeezed in his palm before pinching your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, making you squeak.

"Fuck me, Joel," you said breathily, and your eyes quickly snapped open at your mistake. "I mean-"

His hand disappeared from your breast and rested gently on your ass, rubbing the already pink skin as he waited for you to correct yourself.

"You wanna try that again?" he asked, attempting to show you mercy.

"Mr. Miller," you said shakily. "Fuck me, Mr. Miller." But you chewed on your lower lip, your breath shallow as you braced for impact anyway. Joel raised an eyebrow as he slowed his hips, the corner of his mouth turned up into a smug grin.

"You want it, anyway, don'tcha?" and you nodded, your teeth sinking into your lower lip now so hard you were sure you would draw blood. You let out a gasp of relief when his hand came down again on your ass, the stinging on your skin spreading throughout your whole body, drawing out a filthy moan.

"Fuck," he muttered, and he could tell he was beginning to lose himself in you. He quickly pulled your right leg up so your knee was resting on the table, opening your hips even more as he picked up a ruthless pace. His left hand released your hip in favor of gripping your shoulder while his right hand acted as a brace for your leg so it wouldn't slide down to the ground.

"Please, Mr. Miller, I need..." you groaned and dropped your forehead to the table for a moment when the angle changed, and he began hitting that sweet spot inside you only he could find.

"Whaddya need?" he panted through clenched teeth, his hand squeezing your shoulder to keep you still as he pounded into you, chasing his release.

"Need you to touch me," you whimpered pathetically, bringing your head back up, doing your best to stay upright and not collapse into a puddle on the table.

"I think only good girls get that," he said lowly, his eyes dark as he watched the side of your face contort in pleasure. "Do'ya think you've been good?"

"No," you whispered, shaking your head.

"Why weren't you good?" he questioned you, the power now going straight to his head.

"Because I didn't listen," you admitted weakly. He nodded and hummed in agreement.

"And what're you gonna do from now on?" he pressed, leaning forward so he could make sure he heard you answer.

"I'm gonna listen," you told him, and he grinned from ear to ear.

"That's right," he said, his right hand traveling under your elevated hip to reach your clit, pressing firm circles over the bundle of nerves and eliciting a groan from your mouth. He could tell by the way you were squeezing him that you were right on the edge of an orgasm. His fingers picked up the pace, swirling around your clit with the expertise and knowledge only he had over your body.

"I always take care of you, don't I?" he gasped in your ear, feeling his own orgasm approaching. You nodded, your heart trapped in your throat as you tipped over the edge, your vision going spotty and curses falling from your lips. He gently sunk his teeth into your shoulder blade and removed his hand once he felt your weak thrusts trail off.

"Shit, sweetheart, I'm close," he grumbled, dropping the act and letting his eyes slide shut as he rested his forehead against your upper back, his left hand still firmly planted on your shoulder. He felt your body shudder underneath him, an aftershock of your own climax.

"Come inside me," you said softly, and his eyes snapped open, not sure if he imagined it or not.

"What?" he rasped, and when you repeated yourself, but louder, his breath caught in his throat. He had only done that once before.

You could feel his hesitation, so you turned your head to the side, trying to catch his eye.

"It's okay," you assured him, trying to wordlessly explain that, like before, the timing of your cycle will work out in your favor, knowing that you were about to get your period any day.

He groaned, the unexpected permission to fill you sending him careening towards the brink. He slammed into you mercilessly, and you winced as you tried to breathe through the overstimulation, knowing he was close when his hips stuttered against you. He let go with a loud moan, falling forward as his hips slowed, filling you with his hot spend.

He gasped against your back, his breath hot through your shirt as his hips involuntarily thrusted shallowly forward until he stilled, quietly catching his breath.

"My leg," you reminded him after a moment. Your hips were sore from the angle, and your body was giving up on you.

"Oh, right," he murmured, picking himself off you and sliding out of you with a hiss. He hooked his finger back around your panties and put them back in place, effectively trapping the sticky mess against you, but you didn't care. Your body felt weak and you just wanted to collapse to the floor, which is exactly what you did. Joel joined you, his eyes closed with the back of his head resting against the wall. He blindly tucked himself back into his jeans with a sigh.

You rolled your head to the side to take in his relaxed face, eyes still closed as he breathed deeply. With a grunt, you stood up and scooped your jeans off the floor, shoving your legs back through them carelessly and then squatted to lace your boots up. You looked back up to find Joel watching you, his face breaking out into a smirk when your eyes met.

"C'mon, Mr. Miller. We should head out soon," you teased, smacking his leg as you straightened up.

"I like that a little too much," he said with a sigh as he stood to help you pack up the books in the duffel bag.

The ride home was relatively quiet, the both of you exhausted. The sway of the horse and the feeling of him everywhere was enough to knock you out cold. You thought at one point you may have dozed off against his back for a few minutes, but you weren't sure.

When you arrived back in Jackson, the sun had just set. You slid down from your horse with a wince. Riding a horse in general made your hips and back sore, but combined with the events of the afternoon made your legs almost crumble when you hit the ground, but Joel was right there to catch you, like he was expecting it.

"Told you I always take care of you," he muttered in your ear, and you smiled.

You walked hand in hand slowly down the street, the string lights twinkling above your heads, as you made your way home. When you passed by Tommy and Maria's house, Tommy poked his head out the door to get your attention.

"Why don't you guys join us? Maria made stew," Tommy offered, and you felt your stomach rumble at the words. You briefly thought about declining and just going back home to sleep, but ultimately your hunger won out.

"You look wiped," Maria said after dinner, joining you on the couch while the men made themselves drinks in the kitchen.

"Yeah, long day. I haven't done a trip like that in a while," you told her, readjusting slightly on the couch. The dried mess between your legs had become incredibly uncomfortable and you were dying to go home, but you were too lazy to move.

"And we agreed you ain't doin' any more for a long time," Joel said, entering the room with Tommy.

"That right?" Tommy asked, raising an eyebrow at you. You glanced back and forth between the two brothers before slowly nodding.

"Yeah," you said. "Not for a few weeks."

"Months," Joel corrected, sitting next to you on the couch and draping an arm around your shoulders.

"Months," you repeated after a moment, and Joel had to bring his glass up to his lips to hide his smirk.

Tommy shrugged and asked Maria where a certain record was, causing the two of them to stand in search for it, bickering about who was the last to see it. Joel leaned into you and planted a soft kiss on the side of your head.

"Good girl," he murmured, making you blush. You agreed to his terms for now, but you knew the disagreement was far from over.

Tag List: @chiogarza, @sparklejumpropequeen-777, @shotgun-shelby @partyofone3413 @nana90azevedo @ninaminaromina

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phantomyre · 6 months

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Vincent could prove to be a problem for Sephiroth this time around... regarding Cloud.

I'll preface this by saying all of the main characters in the party will have a part in creating the fibers that make up Cloud. Granted, we have characters such as Tifa who help piece his mind together, and Aerith whose death he felt personally responsible for. However, with the coming of Rebirth and the focus on building strong relationships amongst the team, I think it's safe to say every character will play a part in influencing Cloud's being. The friendship bond will be the strength that keeps Cloud whole as an individual--- and it is that strength that Sephiroth seeks to wield as his own. As such, Sephiroth will likely destroy that bond, come end of Rebirth or part 3. It is on this premise that I will focus on Vincent-- the one character who was not only reluctant to fight Sephiroth, but is also a reflection of Cloud. Both are one and the same, and yet very opposite.

Exploring Vincent's Mindset

Due to his past, Vincent purposefully disassociates himself from others-- particularly those he cares about. In OG, when Cloud asks the group to think of why they are choosing to fight, he is the most shocked when he sees Vincent return to the Highwind, saying he thought Vincent didn't care. In the novella On the Way to a Smile, Vincent immediately leaves Cloud and co after defeating Sephiroth, ignoring Yuffie's disappointment about him abandoning his friends. By the time of Dirge of Cerberus, Cait calls Vincent out on his bluff for saying he didn't want to take part in helping his friends in their efforts. Yet in every instance where he turned a cold shoulder, he could never fully resist his nature to address someone's earnest plight.

After opening his heart to Lucrecia and allowing his emotions to take control of his actions, it cost him his humanity, his lover, his life, and everything he once treasured. This phobia of imparting grief to a loved one is not unlike Cloud's fear, as is depicted in Advent Children. In essence, this element of Vincent's will/mindset can also be seen in the way he functions during his Limit Breaks, particularly when an enemy attempts to inflict statuses on him.

During Vincent's uncontrollable Limit Breaks, Vincent actually becomes immune to both Berserk and Confusion statuses-- regardless of what form he takes. Even while his mind and body are lost to the whims of the beast via rage and pain, befitting a true berserk state, Vincent is incapable of mistaking friend or foe. This in turn allows him to never act impulsively, unlike Cloud. Perhaps this is also why Marlene found refuge with Vincent, even though she presumably had never met him before. Amidst his agony, Vincent has learned to master his pain and use it to protect others.

Exploring Sephiroth and Cloud's Mindset

It is well-known that Cloud has been through hell. Everything from losing his family, his home, his best friend, and even his identity. Cloud easily falls into despair, thus making him an easy target of manipulation. Sephiroth is aware of Cloud's desire to become strong, and uses Cloud's pain as a motivator every step of the way. Both Cloud and Sephiroth desire to grow stronger, and throughout the various compilations, Cloud indeed gets stronger. But what of Sephiroth? Initially, it looked as though he only enjoyed tormenting Cloud just to make Cloud suffer. But since then, we've had a peak at Sephiroth's backstory entailed based on Ever Crisis' latest event (Pumpkin Harvest).

In the Halloween event, there is an interesting bit of lore that gives us some insight into Sephiroth's past with Hojo. Once Sephiroth enters the Shinra Manor and begins looking over the library, a flashback is triggered, and he is thrown into a whirl of pain. We learn that Hojo tortures Sephiroth in order to draw out Sephiroth's power.

Thus, it is implied that Sephiroth experienced 'kindness/love' in the form of suffering, believing that through pain, he can accomplish his greatest potential. And it is through this indoctrination of twisted psychology that Sephiroth also seeks to impart this 'kindness' to the one he deems worthy of his attention, aka Cloud. It wouldn't be far fetched to say Sephiroth may in actually believe he is doing Cloud a favor. But what does this all have to do with Vincent...?

Vincent's influence could thwart Sephiroth's control over Cloud

Consider the psychology of pain between Sephiroth and Vincent. One uses pain as a motivator to protect, while the other weaponizes it for his own gain, and perhaps as a contorted form of kindness. Vincent bemoans the loss of his humanity and his inability to feel. Sephiroth has not only been robbed of basic human experiences, but has also willfully discarded human emotions into the Lifestream (Lifestream Black Chapters from On the Way to a Smile). While both were tormented against their will, both chose to approach their afflictions contrary to one another. Both seek to protect and preserve Cloud, yet with very conflicting methods and reasons.

From OG onward, Cloud develops a connection with each of the characters. And in the case of Vincent, both seem to share a unique bond that is almost akin to a brotherly relationship (think alike, act alike, share the same pain, mutual respect, etc). Even so far as being the only two who visit Aerith's watery grave on a regular basis in Advent Children (Vincent says "I come here often"). But it isn't simply due to their past hardships or their travels together. Cloud lacks something that Vincent has an aptitude for--- the ability to harness pain and use it to protect others; the opposite of what Sephiroth is trying to instill within Cloud. Vincent, who is the harbinger of Chaos-- death and destruction, willfully chooses to instead become the protector. Cloud, easily mislead and vulnerable to Sephiroth's control, is being primed to become death and destruction himself. Should Vincent and Cloud's bond strengthen, and Cloud learns to harness his pain for the better, Sephiroth's grip on Cloud would be threatened. Vincent represents how perpetuated abuse can be used and controlled in order to help/protect others, while Sephiroth is the embodiment of that vicious cycle of pain being imparted to others for a selfish gain. With the theme of Rebirth and how strong relationships are key to the strength of the team, this inevitably sets the stage for those bonds to be torn apart either later in Rebirth or part 3. Cloud's strength being derived from his friends threatens Sephiroth's very existence. Every thread of connection is destined to be torn apart; only to be securely fastened to Sephiroth, and Sephiroth alone. And if there's one thing that Sephiroth fears the most, it is his bond with Cloud being severed. Therefore, Vincent (along with everyone else) will likely become a major threat to Sephiroth's existence... and that's not even including the fact that Vincent is connected to Sephiroth's past (his humanity), has knowledge of who his true mother is, and has proven he can successfully thwart Nero/Jenova/Sephiroth's escape by destroying Omega. But that is a discussion for another time.

#vincent valentine #final fantasy 7 #final fantasy #ff7 #ffvii #cloud strife #sephiroth #ever crisis #ff7 rebirth #final fantasy 7: rebirth

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balis77 · 4 months

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Limbus Faust Theory Time

Ok, so I've been thinking about this for a while. Ever since someone on Limbus' TvTropes page pointed out some Faust (Book) symbolism in Faust's base ego I've had this big fucking theory about Faust that I already know can't be confirmed until her Canto. And considering that (By the current order) that's gonna take like 2 years, I'm just gonna say it now.

Faust is actually a clone of the original Faust.

My evidence

Faust's symbol is a Flask. Now while Play!Faust (and the actual guy he was partially based on) was an alchemist, a flask specifically is a symbol of one character in the whole book/play; the Homunculus. The Homunculus is born as a small flame inside of a glass flask (And yes this is what Father from FMA's initial form was based on), created by Faust's (pre-deal with the devil) assistant Wagner who wishes to see the world. To this end, the Homunculus accompanies Faust and Mephistopheles to a Walpurgis Night (Sound familiar?) where they discover the wonders of nature. At the end of their segment, they shatter their flask and become one with the ocean.

It's weird that Project Moon would give Faust, based on a character who's literally the namesake for the term Faustian bargain, a symbol based on the flask instead of say, a demon. Not to mention Faust's sword saying Walpurgisnacht and her association with the in-game event. Unless of course, Faust isn't supposed to represent Faust himself, but rather the Homunculus. And that word almost universally regarded as a term for an artificial approximation of a human.

Every base EGO (Other than Rodion and Mersault for whatever reason) has a shadow across it that correlates to their respective Sinner's backstory in some way. Of the ones we have so far; Yi Sang's is a wing (Representing the wings he saw on his other self in the mirror and his status as a wing asset), Ishmael's is an anchor (Her previous status as a sailor and metaphorically her weighing herself to getting revenge on Ahab), Gregor's is a bunch of grasping hands (His experiences during the Smoke war), and Sinclair's is a tree with a snake going around it (Representing the temptation Kromer gave him that he gave into, which resulted in his family being slaughtered by her).

Faust's base EGO has the shadow of three separate people standing around her. Going off the original story, these would correlate to Faust, Wagner, and Mephistopheles standing around the Homunculus' flask. This is the specific bit pointed out by TvTropes that gave birth to this whole theory.

The abnormality EGO each character gets also tends to relate to them in some way, on a similar level to how each EGO used in a realization in Library of Ruina represented certain experiences. For example, as of the time of this writing Ishmael has Roseate Desire, Blind Obsession (Both relating to obsession and refusal to let go), Capote (Blind rage), and Ardor Blossom Star (Guidance or the lack thereof without a goal).

Faust's current EGO as of this writing include 9:2 (Forbidden knowledge), Telepole (experimentation), Hexnail (Abandonment), and Fluid Sack (Lack of direction), which in my opinion fits more with a creation trying to find their purpose in life after being free of their creator than someone willing to sell their soul for infinite knowledge.

It's mentioned that Faust rarely sleeps, and she rarely seems to be as affected by things like motion sickness or exhaustion as the other Sinners, which points towards her having some kind of inherent enhancement in some way.

The backstory of the homunculus matches with a shared desire among a lot of the other Sinners who we do know the backstory of; namely the idea of exploring the world and finding people you can truly call companions along the way.

Now, why do I think Faust is specifically a clone of the original and not say, a lab-created experiment? Well:

When we see Yi Sang's flashback to him agreeing to join the Company, we see him being recruited by someone who has to be Faust. She has the same voice actor and character name color... except we also never see her face, and the figure notably isn't identified as Faust and is instead credited as ???. Not only does the game usually explicitly identify a character as long as they've been properly introduced, but even the "But Yi Sang didn't know who it was at the time" doesn't work considering he's remembering and knows who Faust is now.

Faust is Sinner #2 instead of Sinner #1. While we can't be certain that Sinner numbers are based on recruitment order (Though there does seem to be some precedence in that Heathcliff seems to have been around when Ishmael was recruited, and he's #7 to her #8, and #10 Dante may have been recruited in their original self before Sinclair, Outis, and Gregor and simply never introduced to the group) it's odd that someone who otherwise acts as the head of the company (Recruiting Vergilius and Yi Sang, making the bus, etc.) would only be #2. In fact it's odd for that person to be in the field in the first place.

We know cloning is possible in the City, enough so that the Head outright has a law governing it. Namely, that only one copy of a person can exist within the City after week's time period. Note how that's worded. Only one copy of a person can exist within the City after a week's time period.

Conveniently, we now know the inner workings of the bus just so happen to have a portal that leads to different parts of the Outskirts.

Faust has a habit of referring to herself in third person, but she's a bit inconsistent about it. In fact, a lot of the time it happens when she's boasting of knowledge specifically. But maybe she's not saying things in third person. Maybe she's intentionally saying "Faust is a well-renowned genius" instead of "I am a well-renowned genius".

Faust being a clone would also fit with who actually runs the company itself. It doesn't seem to be the Purple Tear (The three who attack Dante in the prologue seem to be her agents) and Faust is the one who seems to give everyone instructions, including both Dante and Vergilius, yet there has to be someone coordinating all the other aspects of the company like arranging travel and the Before and After teams. But maybe it is Faust doing everything. Just not the same Faust we're interacting with.

To sum it up, I think Faust is the one running the company, but not the same Faust who's part of the Sinners. I think she made a clone of herself, imparting all her knowledge into it before going to the Outskirts to run the company from there (Just like how Ayin and Carmen had their original facility there), leaving the clone to fulfill its own desire to see the world and also take the risk involved with becoming a Sinner in her place. The reason Vergilius gives so much respect to Faust? Because she's a proxy of the original, the original who recruited him and the other Sinners in the first place. The various shady shit Faust does? All on orders from the original. Faust's constant boasting of her own knowledge in third person? She's trying to convince herself that she's as good as the original Faust instead of just a copy.

If anyone has any evidence they can think of, feel free to reblog with it.

#limbus company #limbus company faust #theory #character analysis #faust

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jaeyunverse · 9 months

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dates with enhypen

pairing(s): ot7 x fem!reader

genre(s): fluff

warning(s) | none

taglist: @skzenhalove @seongclb @boyfhee @s00buwu @flwrshee @haerinz

summary: the various kinds of dates i think the enhypen members would love going on <3

masterlist

𝗹𝗲𝗲 𝗵𝗲𝗲𝘀𝗲𝘂𝗻𝗴

typical dates. lee heeseung keeps it sweet and simple. he takes you out on arcade and karaoke dates. he takes you out to watch stand-up comedies. he takes you out to new food joints every week so you can rate the places together. he challenges you to play video games and always ends up humiliating himself. his personal favourites are bowling and card games.

𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗸 𝗷𝗼𝗻𝗴𝘀𝗲𝗼𝗻𝗴

elegant dates. dating jay means going to michelin star restaurants for dinner. it means going for a wine tasting or driving up to his parents’ lakehouse for the weekend. art galleries are also a common destination along with museums and great libraries. on a few rare occasions, the two of you also go to watch plays.

𝘀𝗶𝗺 𝗷𝗮𝗲𝘆𝘂𝗻

impromptu dates. jake will show up at your place without any warning and tell you to get ready. he might plan a movie date this week and then do a complete 180° the next by taking you out for camping. he loves that you always go along with whatever he has in store for you. you never fail to meet his energy—it’s one of the reasons he was drawn to you in the first place.

𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗸 𝘀𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗵𝗼𝗼𝗻

creative dates. park sunghoon always thinks of something new for each date. he takes you to the shooting range when you need to let off some time and to the trampoline park when you’re feeling sad. sometimes, though, the two of you just prefer to stay in and watch movies with good food. drive-ins have a special place in your hearts since that was where you first met.

𝗸𝗶𝗺 𝘀𝘂𝗻𝗼𝗼

cute dates. it’s a broad concept, but that is the recurring theme of all of kim sunoo’s dates. he takes you to pet cafes and carnivals. he loves to paint with you and explore the city on your bicycles. he adores watching you see the sunset and treasures the feeling of your head resting on his shoulder. kim sunoo is also big on creating his own date ideas instead of doing the same things everyone else does.

𝘆𝗮𝗻𝗴 𝗷𝘂𝗻𝗴𝘄𝗼𝗻

nature dates. there is something about enjoying each other’s presence away from all distractions of daily life that has always been appealing to the two of you. going on picnics, talking a walk on the beach and exploring the woods are hang out ideas for when you haven’t had the time to plan anything. visting jungwon’s granparents’ cabin for the weekend or going for a hiking trip are dates for when you want to enjoy each other’s company for longer periods.

𝗻𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗺𝘂𝗿𝗮 𝗿𝗶𝗸𝗶

adventure dates. the two of you have zero sense of self preservation so you often do the wildest things one can think of. most of your dates are first times for both you—bungee jumping, spray painting all over the city using a shared alias and climbing to the top of a ferris wheel in an abandoned amusement park to stargaze are some dates that come to mind. you’re both strong on gaining new experiences and living with no fears rather than just spending time with each other.

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daydreamwritting · 2 months

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Hi! Any thoughts about Jasper, please 🙏

This was so vague that I’ve been sitting on this for a few weeks because I have a lot of thoughts about this man. Here are some moments I came up with, things I’d imagine that take place on those normal days around Forks <3 hope you enjoy!

First off, any hobby you like is also his hobby. And if he doesn’t end up liking it he sure as hell is funding it because he loves seeing you happy. Even if it all goes to waste when you abandon one project for the next one.

He’d probably take you on more hikes you thought were physically possible. Insistent that you don’t get out in nature enough to just take a breather. He makes sure to find good trails with spot to sit and explore, knowing you’ll be extra happy if there’s a waterfall. You slowly join his family’s “hiking days” on sunny days as much as your parents allow. Even though the hiking/camping trips were always the excuse, you and Jasper ironically spent most of those days doing just that. I mean, when else are you suppose to hike? Between school, homework, and supernatural threats, there’s not enough time in the day!

When it comes to your protection it’s always a bit hard for him. All he wants to do is stand in front of you and protect you from any dangers of the world, but he knows that you can stand your own ground, and he lets you, especially when it comes to you bickering with his siblings. Whole arguments have been made by asking if Jasper is such a bad gentleman that he can’t open a car door which lead to the whole I’m my own person and am fully capable of opening my own door argument. For a bunch of old vampires, some of them truly argued like teenagers.

He 100% uses his gift on you. Of course he respect you and your boundaries if you want him to back off. But sometimes you’ll be stubborn and tell him to back off and he has to politely explain that you literally look like you’re going to pass out and if you don’t calm down in the next ten seconds he will do it anyways because your physical safety comes first.

Being with you meant being around your best friend, something Jasper was nervous about in the beginning, he’s not very familiar with the human friend department. However, he was relieved to find out your best friend is a lot like you. Easily fitting in with both of you and your activities. He often joined you two when going to the library or shopping. You also learned there’s a whole lot more board games you guys can play with three people. Board games became a specialty when hanging out with your best friend since Edward, Alice, and sometimes even Emmett cheat. They are impossible to play with.

Your favorite days were the rainy ones. Jaspers bedroom had floor to ceiling windows and you practically demanded he put a bed in there so you can get all cozy and watch the rain fall and totally not to use as an excuse for cuddling. You got what you wished for and you and Jasper started an exclusive book club with just the two of you. In rainy days, you’d read a book together and talk about it. Of course you can’t stand reading out loud so you insist on getting two copies of every book so you could both read at your own pace. Jasper thought this was silly as first, but understood the appeal when he laid down next to you on the bed and started reading to the relaxing sound of rain in the background. It was nice, and almost distracted him from the rest of the chatter he was forced to hear around the rest of the house.

#twilight saga #twilight #jasper hale #jasper hale x reader #headcanon #oneshot #new moon #eclipse #breaking dawn #the cullens #sorry this took so long #i still have no idea what i'm doing #how do you use tumblr

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hirsheyskisses · 6 months

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Hello!! Your spooky event looks so fun! Do you think I could get 1. "You're shivering. Are you really that scared?" + 6 with Eustass Kid? Thank you so much I look forward to seeing what spooky ideas you come up with!!

Don't be a Coward!

Spooktober (2023) Event 👻🎃

EUSTASS KID x READER

Summary: being foolish, fresh put of your teens, Kidd decided to take things a step up for halloween, going to explore a 'haunted' mall.. (also yes, the pun in this story was intended)

Kidd has ALWAYS loved Halloween. Ever since the two of you had been kids, he'd dress up as either the spookiest or coolest shit (often times both) and always insisted on helping you with your costume.

A lot of Halloween often ended with kidd and killer looking absolutely terrifying, where your costumes were often- badass. Dresses that lit on fire, exploding suits, or real life villain energy

But, where they loved horror.. and creepiness.. You'd rather not! You'd really rather not fuck with ouija boards, or go into haunted malls, or fuck with ghosts..

But kidd.. well, you're dating the man..

"I really don't think this is a good idea." You stated for the umpteenth time, being rewarded with another long sigh from your lover. "You're being a wuss. It's just rumors-"

Kidd grumbled, grabbing your hand and lifting you up to the window he'd just shattered, holding you by your sides. Hesitating for a moment before sliding through, attempting not to step on glass, you turned, "thats not the point! Well.. it's part of the point, but we're breaking an entering! Yaknow, doing the thing that's against the law!"

Watching him land beside you, he snorted. "Since when were you so concerned about the law? You broke a guy's jaw for catcalling."

Kidd began to walk, his eyes eager and- to some extent, childish. "He was following me and had it coming, would you rather I have let him take me?" You shot back, to which Kidd tensed a bit. "Never said it was a bad thing. I'm just sayin', it was still against the law." He muttered, a hand snaking behind your back to pull you at his side. Surprisingly, the mall wasn't too scary: trashed, sure, but with a man who cleared 6' it wasn't- entirely terrifying.

"Well.. that scenario shouldn't be against the law." You responded, and you also knew he agreed: Kid loved any excuse to beat down am asshole. Even if he was bit of one himself, he still held some semblance of respect.

The mall was dark, and as you went further in, the light became less and less, until you were squinting to see and cautiously stepping down to ensure you didn't step on anything. Your redheaded boyfriend, on the other hand, didn't hesitate. Instead, he walked with pure confidence, head swiveling from side to side. "I expected more from a haunted mall. This shots boring." He grumbled, glancing back at you. "Yeah.. I guess." You mumbled, focused less so on him and instead chose to peer into the open stores, finding knocked over shelves and ransacked compartments, slowly moving towards an old book store. Grabbing your phone and flicking on the flashlight, you began to move between the shelves, occasionally grabbing at a abandoned, dusty book. Surprisingly, there was a lot of them remaining: and in fairly good condition, too. A few classics, and a few of your old favorites you'd occasionally come across. You'd been there for a few minutes..

"Hey! Kidd! Look at this o-"

You finally lifted your head as you found an old book on mechanic work he'd wanted, only to realize one thing: Kidd was nowhere to be found. You could've sworn he'd been right behind you the entire time- you'd heard his lumbering footsteps!

He's probably just in another store.. you decided, making to exit the library with the book still in your arms. Now that you were alone, you were overly conscious just how big the mall was. Every step you took left you uneasy, swearing you heard footsteps behind you- swore you heard voices, but no- eyes in the darkness, impossible, yet everytime you tried to counter the strange chills you got you just felt worse.

You'd wandered for a few minutes, peering into stores, and growing increasingly worried. What if he'd had a heart attack?! Or what if he'd gotten kidnapped? So much could've gone wrong- yet-

- yet the moment you were shoved against the wall, you had no time to worry about him.

A blood curdling screech ripped its way out of your lungs and you raised the book, fully prepared to slam it into your attackers body and book it- only for your wrists to be pinned to the wall. Your knee prepared to buck upwards, but a deep, growly voice sounded in your ear.

"You're shaking, mouse. Are you really that scared?"

His hot breath fanned against your neck as you almost melted, "k-kidd?! Where'd you go-" your voice was breathless, and Kidd chuckled, pressing his face into your neck. "Was never far.. don't gotta worry so much, mouse. I won't let shit hurt you."

#eustass x reader #eustass kid x reader #eustasscaptainkid #one piece x reader #eustass kid #kid x reader #kid pirates

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bunnys-kisses · 3 months

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the house on the hill - astarion ancunin

pairing: astarion ancunin rating: 18+ summary: It was late for you, you had been traveling all day and could barely keep yourself together. Every step felt like fifteen, all you wanted to find a place to rest. But the town you entered was dead, a ghost town of sorts. You had no choice but to stay there for the night, you didn’t want to risk yourself in the woods alone. tags: pwp, long fic, possessive behaviour, blood & bruises, biting, dark!astarion, smut, petplay, pet names, fingering, doggy style, unhealthy dynamics, astarion is not sane in this one, 4.2k

a/n: i am a sucker for vampires.

join my discord

It was late for you, you had been traveling all day and could barely keep yourself together. Every step felt like fifteen, all you wanted to find a place to rest. But the town you entered was dead, a ghost town of sorts. You had no choice but to stay there for the night, you didn’t want to risk yourself in the woods alone.

You camped out inside one of the few houses that made up the town once the sun went down. But you noticed when you peeked out the window that there was someone in the house up on top of the hill. You could see a single candlelight by the front window of what appeared to be the largest house.

You pulled together all your bravery and headed towards the house. Maybe the person inside could give details as to where the next populated town was for your travels in the morning. The trek was short and before you knew it you were knocking on the front door to the large manor.

You heard a crow call in the distance and it made a chill run up your spine. You knocked again and kept your shoulders hunched for fear of what was outside. The door opened and it revealed a man. He had pointed ears like a high elf, red eyes, he stood over six feet tall and his voice rattled in your head.

“Hello, little one.” He said, “Are you lost?”

“Hi.” You replied, “I need to find my way to the next town, but I am staying in one of the abandoned houses tonight.”

He titled his head to the side, “I see. Well, why don’t you stay with me? Abandoned houses offer little protection.”

“Are you implying I can’t take care of myself?” You asked, mildly offended.

“No, no.” He replied, “I am saying that there are entities that are much stronger than even the best. But I know this area well and I can protect you, if only for a night. Please, come in.”

You found out the man’s name was Astarion. He placed you in one of the many rooms of the manor. He told you to feel free to explore until you got tired enough to rest. His home was yours for the night. You were grateful, since starting your journey you had met many cruel people. So the man was a nice change of pace.

He was charismatic, charming even. He smiled as he showed you around. He gave you compliments and kept his hand on your lower back as he showed you all the rooms within the house. it had been very long since someone touched you outside of battle, so the man’s touch was a delight.

“And this is the library.” He said, “My books are yours while you are staying with me.”

“Thank you, sir.” You smiled at him before you stepped inside. Astarion followed close behind like a shadow, he watched you carefully as you reached for one of the books. He stepped in and grabbed it for you. You took the book from him carefully, “Thank you.”

“It is no problem, I am happy to make you feel like you are at home.”

He even provided you with food, he sat with you at the large dining table as you ate. He admired you, he complimented your eyes and said the color reminded him of the beauty of the forest. Not so much in shade color, but the thrill he got when he saw mist over the forest after a heavy rainstorm.

As you finished your meal, you asked, “Do you get lonely, sir?”

The corner of his mouth turned, “At times yes, I often dream about having a wife to share this home with. I’ve been here by myself for far too long.” Those red eyes gazed at you, “Do you have someone waiting for you at home?”

You shook your head, “No, sir. It is just me.”

He smiled more, “I guess we are kindred spirits then. You’ve lifted my mood greatly, I am glad you found my home.” Then got up to serve you another helping of dinner.

You stayed in his company until you grew tired from your travels. You were grateful to find a bed to sleep in and you thanked Astarion again for his hospitality. He told you to have sweet dreams. The bed was comfortable, more comfortable than the beds in the inns you stayed at. You felt yourself sink into the bed, the tension left your body. You sighed constantly as you fell into a deep sleep.

The sleep remained undisturbed, until you felt movement in the room. You rolled to your side and you suddenly woke up, You felt the pressure of fangs in your neck. You tried to move away but whoever was feeding from you had you in a tight hold.

You tried to scream but no noise came out. You whimpered and grasped onto the covers underneath you. You were only able to relax when the attacker slowed their feeding.

“That is perfect, my pet. Let me feed from you, you’ll make a fine pet for me.” You head Astarion’s voice. He placed his hand on your hip and rubbed it as he slowed his feeding, “I’ve made it so you’ll yearn for the closeness of feeding. But no other means will satisfy you. You were right, I was looking for a bride, and I found her right on my doorstep.”

You groaned, “Please, no.”

He chuckled as he turned you to look at him, “No, what? You have a chance to be in a lovely home with a husband, or you can be killed in the forests north of here by some beast.” He rubbed his hand on your arms, “Don’t cry, I didn’t turn you into a vampire. No, no, little pet. I simply made you a pet.” He brushed the hair out of your face.

You tried to fight his grasp, but he had taken so much that you were weak. You couldn’t fight him off as he kissed you on the lips. His hands grabbed your breasts and he passionately made out with you. You whimpered into the kiss, and eventually melted into it.

But the kiss soon ended and very quickly Astarion was gone from the room. Which left you alone with blood oozing from your neck in a weakened state. All you could do was close your eyes and melt once more into the bed.

“Ugh.” You said as you woke up, Your head was pounding as you cracked open your eyes to see the light streaming in. You had better movements of your body as you got out of bed. You yawned to yourself in your haze as you tried to find the vampire who bit you last night.

You felt pain in your neck as you moved about the manor.

“There you are.” You heard behind you, it was him.

“Astarion.” You said.

“Yes, my pet. Come here.” He said in that low tone.

Even though he wanted to run away, his body moved on its own as he went over to the man and was embraced by him. He petted your hair and kissed the top of your head. You felt drawn to him, you had questions.

“What am I?”

“A pet.” He said, almost gleeful, he continued to pet your hair, “You’ll find more comfort here than out in the woods. This place is safe and you'll be safe.”

“But my journey.”

He smiled down at you, “Pets need not to worry. I will take good care of you and that adventure will mean nothing in due time. I knew the moment you came through my door that I needed to protect you, little one. You’re far too delicate to be thrown to monsters.”

You held onto him, after he finished speaking you looked up to him. There was a pull in your chest to be closer to him. To be as close as possible to the feeling of him, as if you’d have a panic attack if you were too far away. It was scary, but thrilling.

It was as if this man had a piece of your heart and you yearned to be reconnected with it. As you stared up into those red eyes, he closed them and leaned in for a kiss. The kiss left stars behind your eyes as you held onto him tighter.

You knew you should’ve been more upset, even fought the man. But when he was near, all the fight in you was gone. Your head felt full of cotton with a deep drive to serve him. Maybe you were the perfect pet.

“I knew you were perfect.” He said softly.

Your time in the manor was nice. You couldn’t really define it otherwise. Maybe having meals every day, a bath, and books to read was not terrible. It was much more cushioned than the life you tried to lead as an adventurer. The only drawback were the bites on your body.

Astarion had made a mess of your neck, littered in bruises and bites. While he enjoyed human food, he feasted on the blood of his pet. He fed you well to keep you full of blood, he made sure that you were taken care of.

But what started out as simple feeding, slowly grew into a sexual endeavor. Astarion loved when his pets were under him, his cock inside of them as he sucked their blood. He got a high from the power of it all, to know that a weak little human was under his control.

“My pet.” He groaned as he reached over and touched your hair. You looked over and he carefully touched your face, “So beautiful. I told you this was a life worth having. You are gorgeous with my marks on your body, a sign of a well loved pet.”

You nodded and leaned over to him. Eventually he guided you into his lap. He held your thigh and rubbed it as he kissed your face.

“Yes, sir?” You asked as you sat there as delicately as you could.

He smiled and kissed the sore spot of your neck, “By my side for the rest of your days, that's unless you want my bite.” His fangs then grazed the bruises, “Never have to worry about a thing again. Just a docile little puppy.” He squeezed your ass and chuckled, “Such a sight.”

“Astarion.” You whimpered.

He laughed, “Maybe not now though, it seems we have other things to attend to. Your sweet voice has captivated me. That sounds you make when I press on bruises or drink your sweet blood.”

He started to kiss you, it was almost sweet if not given for the force that he was doing it. You moaned loudly when his lips found your wrist, where he took a healthy drink of your blood.

The rush excited you, although it made you light headed as well. You held onto him with one hand while the other was in his grasp. More bruises to the collection you supposed.

“Good girl.” He smiled devilishly. Was he your owner? Your lover? The person you were bound to for eternity? There were many questions about Astarion, but he had put into your head that you needed him to feed on you.

You felt your heart race and your breathing become heavier. You held onto him like your life depended on it. You could feel heat in your cheeks as he finished his meal.

When pulled away, he looked almost feral. As if he were a man starved for days and finally feasted. You sometimes wondered who was more addicted, you or him.

His soft lips were covered in your blood as he went to kiss the puncture wounds. Then he let you lay against him. He pulled up your shirt and got past your underwear.

You didn't wear much nowadays, usually his clothes and some skimpy undergarments. Something he could tear off of you if so need be. His longer fingers touched your clit gently.

He kept you close to him as he played with you. He could hear your heartbeat against your shoulder as he felt your body move against his. It was quite a sight to behold.

He could never imagine you with another man, the sight disgusted him. Even if you met in an unconventional way, he still cared for you. He still wants you to know that he loved his little pet.

You whimpered and moaned the more he pleasured you. He smiled against your sore neck and worked his fingers against your sex. The heat in the room felt undeniable. In a life full of sex and blood it still excited you every time he played with you.

You were his simple pet and you were thankful for all he had for you. You arched your back when he inserted a finger into you. You whimpered and he kissed the back of your neck.

“Relax my love, I know you love the feeling.”

“Please.”

“Good girl, I will make you finish. A good owner always keeps his pet well taken care of.” The sultriness of his voice aroused you further.

Soon the room was filled with sounds of him pleasuring you as well as your reaction to it. In the lowlights of the home you shared. It had been such a short time but you were falling into the depths of pleasure and soon you'd have no way of getting out.

You moaned loudly and held onto his arms for support as you kept your legs open for him. He praised you on how well you were behaving for him. Letting him get his fix in two different ways.

There wasn't much you knew about vampires, but you know this one had a fetish for making his partner squirm. He also had various other fetishes that he loved to indulge in with you. And you, always the happy pet, complied and let him do what he seemed fit.

Afterall, you had to trust him.

The two of you made out once more, kissing passionately as he continued to finger you. He groaned into the kiss as his erection poked at your back. You moaned into the kiss in return.

You felt close to climax, you knew that would leave you with a blank mind. It was often euphoric, higher than any drug you could ever take. It reached a peak that sent you to dizzying heights.

“Please, sir.” You gasped into the kiss.

He kissed you once more as he put another finger inside of you. It wasn't long before you gasped loudly into the kiss and climaxed around his fingers. The tightness of your cunt around his digits excited him as well.

You really were the perfect pet.

As you laid against him in a slumped state. He started to undress you, soon after he placed you on the floor with your hips in the air and your face against the hardwood. He admired the shape of your ass as he took off his clothes as well.

He could hear you panting, attempting to come back to reality. But he knew the depths of pleasure were pulling you in. You were like clay in his hands, you allowed him to shape you in his desired form.

But he'd care for you until the sun melted or the moon exploded. Just a little more convincing and you'd be his eternal bride. The thought made his cock twitch as he stared down at you.

His size was impressive. He knew you had spent afternoons sucking on it while he read until he finished all over your face and breasts. You were familiar with every inch of it just as you were familiar with your own body.

“Good girl. You always have your legs open for me. I find it quite endearing. To know that the pet I found off the street has taken a liking to the hedonism of my manor.” He ran a finger down your slit.

You used your hands as cushioning as you kept your hips up for his use. You felt him grab your ass cheek and leave an almost bruising mark. You whimpered to yourself before you hissed as he slapped across your cheeks.

“And what do we say?”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Good pet.” He said with almost affection in his tone.

He touched your cunt so more carefully. He could hear your soft moans, it was almost endearing. To hear your sweet symphony as he played with you. He was enthralled by you, he thought you were given to him as a gift from whatever deity there was.

He knew most men wouldn't have captured their lover and made them addicted to the act of drawing blood, but Astarion was unlike most men. He knew that he had to protect you, the world was much scarier than you realized.

But over two hundred years on this earth had taught him to not let a good thing go. So here you were in his home, where he'd protect you. His pet, his lover, his everything. A bruised beauty under him as they about to fuck like animals.

The thought made him run his tongue across his teeth in excitement. There would never be a woman like you ever again. His thumb grazed your clit and the noise that exited your lips made him smile more.

Beautiful.

That was all he thought before he rubbed your sore body, he pressed on the bruises on your neck and you whined. He did have a dark streak though, to see his pet in mild pain. Not enough to cause any crying, but something that made you squirm.

He toyed with you a bit longer before he grew bored. His cock was painfully hard and he needed to release some of the pleasure. He could feel the heat in your body.

“Beautiful, girl.” He said as he aligned his cock with your entrance and with one hard thrust pushed it all the way in. You tightened and he groaned, “Fantastic.”

You gripped onto the floor, or rather attempted to as he started to move his hips back and forth against you.

“Sir.”

“Good girl.” He said, “You are so perfect for me. I fit just like a glove.” He grinned as he leaned over you, hands on your hips as he moved back and forth. He knew the sex would cause you a little bruising. He understood the bruises as a sign of his love for you, his dedication to his one and only pet.

While the lines between romance and pain were blurred, Astarion would always make sure that his pet was a priority.

He thrusted harder against you, encouraged by your moans as you sank deeper into pleasure once more. The manor was empty except for the two of you and under the low light of candles you fucked like it was the last time you could ever do it.

“I will never meet a woman like you again, pet.” He purred, “Not one with such rich blood and a tight cunt.” His words left a shiver through your body. He watched your body move to keep up with his brutal pace.

You really were a sight to behold. He pressed his chest up against your back and started to fondle your breasts. He pinched your nipples which caused you to gasp loudly. Your pussy tightened around him and he did it again to the same effect.

He growled in your ear, “Such a good fuck. Who do you belong to?”

You whimpered, “You, sir. I belong to Astarion.”

He smiled against your lobe, “Good girl, I love how you say my name. Even when you’re not fully with me. But that doesn’t matter. I'll still pleasure you until you cannot form coherent words.” His tongue then glided across the bruises.

Your bodies moved together like animals in heat on the floor of the manor. You humped against one another like your life depended on it.It was accompanied by your sounds, the groans and gasps. The half form sentences you tried to say.

You were lost in a blaze of sex and felt like you weren’t in your own head. Astarion found it endearing, a sweet little adventurer now partaking in a life of rough sex. It almost made him smile.

“Beautiful, pet.” He praised you.

You whimpered in response, your head felt full of cotton and you couldn’t focus on all the sensations on your body. You arched your back and let out a loud groan as his cock brushed past a particular sensitive spot.

“Yes, that’s it. So perfect for me.” He remarked softly, you could feel the emotion in his voice.

You tried to find leverage on the floor but failed to do so, you moaned into the wood as he continued to thrust. You felt the heat in your cheeks and the tight grip of pleasure.

“You’ve surpassed my expectations, by now most would’ve begged for mercy. But not you.” He kissed your neck as he gripped your hips tighter, “I love mortals when they bruise, I like to know that I’m the one doing the bruising.” He snickered against your neck.

“Sir, please.” You whimpered.

“I know, I know.” He said, “You want it. You want me so badly it pains you. You enjoy the bruises and the sex, you were not meant to be an adventurer, you were meant to find comfort in my bed.”

If you had half a brain left you would've denied it. But he was starting to sound right, you sucked at being a fighter. You were more meant to find comfort in soft beds. More of a lap dog than a wolf.

You arched your back and buried your face in your hands, your face stung from the heat that had risen to your cheeks.You moaned into your hands as you felt the pleasure crash into you like rough waves. An Astarion thought you were the most precious thing on the planet. A beauty he could not deny, to mark and to keep.

“Astarion.” You whimpered.

“Good girl.” He said quietly, “All for me.” He started to lose himself to the pleasure.

All sense of time melted away as he moved his hips. You were on the brink of orgasm. You felt the pressure in your gut, a twist at the idea of him giving you absolute pleasure. You moaned into the floor as he kept your hips up. He thrusted deep into you as you groaned.

You felt bruised all over, as was the life of a pet. You were a vampire’s most valuable treasure. The more you spent with him, the more you accepted this as your life. You found joy in the comforts of the manor as well as the comforts in his bed.

You’d give him everything without hesitation.

It made immortality seem more endearing. A century or more with him.

With a few more thrusts of his hips, you climaxed. You practically screamed into your hands as you found release. But that didn’t break his pace. He crowded your space more and thrusted as deep as he could inside of you. You clawed at the floor like an animal but your tongue could produce no words.

If you were wearing a collar, you’d seem less like a pet than you were in the state that you were in.

He grunted and growled as he thrusted up into you. He watched the back of your head as he felt close to his own climax. He sang your praises as he came so close to his own orgasm. For a brief moment, he wondered if it was possible to breed a human.

The thought made him grin and sent him over the edge. He gave one last slam of his hips and finished inside of you. Further marking you as his. He let go of your hips and rested on his heels, his cock soft between his legs.

Your hips dropped and you laid limp on the floor.

He wiped the sweat off his brow, he softly smiled, “Come here, pet. Let me get you cleaned up, you’ve done such a good job for me.” He then took you in his arms and kissed your face. He could feel your racing heartbeat, maybe he was a little too rough on his precious pet. He held you close to him as he started to get up. But you were in no position to walk, so he carried you.

These were the moments outside the blood and sex, where Astarion tended to you. Cleaned the blood off your neck with a rag and drew you a bath. He brushed your face with the side of his finger and gazed into your eyes.

“A perfect pet.” He said softly as he carried you towards the washroom.

You were inclined to agree as you kept nodding off. The lack of pleasure left you tired as the blood loss set in. But you trusted Astarion with your life.

You always would.

xoxo,

bunny

#bunny writes #bg3 x reader #bg3 x you #bg3 x tav #astarion #astarion ancunin #baldurs gate 3 #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion x you #reader insert #bg3 #bg3 astarion #bg3 fanfiction

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starlightkun · 9 months

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❧ word count: 17.4k ❧ warnings: cursing, like... grossly adorable petnames just abandon ship now if you’re going to be a hater about it ❧ genre: fluff, modern magical creatures au, fantasy au, college au, dragon jisung, human reader, ft. various other magical dreamies and human!renjun, fake not dating/secret dating trope, same universe as strawberry sunday ❧ extra info: this work is set in the same universe as strawberry sunday but can be read as a standalone! there is no continuing plotline between fics in this universe, they simply take place in the same world/magic system and may have overlapping characters (neos may pop up in more than one work!) ❧ author’s note: here’s dragon jisungie too! this one was so much fun to write and idk y’all i think he’s just the loml now. anyway, cue the shenanigans <;33

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ explore the strawberry sunday universe more here!

“Isn’t it always the dragon that the princess needs to be rescued from in the fairytales?” You teased, bumping his shoulder with yours.

“Well maybe in this one, the dragon’s the hero—” Jisung wrapped his arms around your waist, picking you up and spinning you around. “—and rescues the princess from the crazed madman.”

“Do you like Jisung?”

Renjun’s deadpan question in the silence of the library nearly made you do a spit take all over your laptop.

After choking through the sip of your pink Gorgonade you’d just taken, you set the bottle down and looked at your human friend with wide eyes. “Excuse me?”

“Park Jisung. Our good dragon buddy. Do you like him?” Renjun repeated with an inquisitive tilt of his head.

“Yeah, sure, he’s cool.” You kept your voice as level as possible, returning your fingers to your keyboard.

“You know what I meant.”

“And clearly, I’m not answering,” you retorted. “Now can we get our project done?”

You and Renjun were both Magical Creatures Studies majors at your college and had met up at the library this particular afternoon to work on a project together. The two of you also had lots of mutual friends, including the aforementioned Park Jisung. And sure, maybe you did have a little bit of a crush on the dragon, but there was no way you were just going to start yammering on about it in the middle of the library after being asked so abruptly.

Your friend narrowed his eyes at you, but ultimately relented. “Fine. But this isn’t over.”

“Of course it’s not,” you sighed.

Finally done with your PowerPoint slides later that evening, you sent a quick text before shutting your laptop. Renjun flopped back in his seat with a groan.

“Thank fuck, my eyeballs are burning.” He rubbed at his eyes with the heels of his palms.

“Have you tried out those enchanted blue light glasses that fairies use?” You suggested, resting your cheek in your palm to watch your friend sympathetically. Fairies’ eyes were more sensitive to electronic screens than humans or other magical beings, so they had to wear special enchanted versions of the blue light lenses that some humans wore for eyestrain. Renjun was a human, but if the screens were hurting his eyes this bad, it was worth a shot.

“I would except they’re so goddamn expensive, and Chenle won’t let me touch his even to try before I buy.”

“What about that other fairy that Mark and Donghyuck know? You’ve met him before at a study session, right?”

“Who— oh, right, uh… Jungwoo. Maybe… but I really don’t want to be asking a fairy that I don’t know for a favor, even something so small. I barely ask the one that I do know for anything, and when I do, I always regret it.”

You snickered. “That’s fair. Seems like you’re just going to suffer for the rest of your life then, Renjun.”

“Oh, woe is me,” he sighed dramatically, taking his hands off his eyes to start packing up his stuff.

“You know who I bet could help you with your whole eye problem?”

“Who?”

You shouldered your backpack, looking your friend in the eye very seriously. “The aliens, obviously.”

“Hey, you know what! They probably could!” Renjun huffed indignantly, grabbing his bag to follow you out of the library.

You were laughing as he kept ranting at you.

“Listen, you guys shit on me way too much for this. And aliens probably could help me with my eye problems if they ever came to Earth, because then they’d have very advanced technology and could very well have the engineering capabilities to make me a screen or a pair of glasses—”

“Or a new pair of bionic eyeballs.” You offered up.

“Exactly!” He threw his hands up as you spotted a familiar figure waiting at the bottom of the library stairs.

Park Jisung was standing there, tapping his hands against his thighs as he looked around awkwardly. You could see the glint of gold chains and pendants around his neck, and even more gold adorning his ears, wrists, and fingers. Dragons were a lot like magpies, you always thought to yourself, they liked shiny things. If magpies could breathe fire, of course.

You were nearly out of breath laughing as you slowed to a stop next to Jisung. Renjun was red-faced, still huffing and puffing.

Jisung’s slit pupils flicked back and forth between the two of you, bewildered, “What—?”

“I just can’t believe you literally breathe fire and have wings,” Renjun jabbed a finger against Jisung’s chest. “And yet it’s sooo crazy and funny and weird that I think that there could be aliens out there in the grand unknown infinite expanse of the universe that we’re in.”

Your dragon friend rubbed a hand over the spot that Renjun had poked, looking personally wounded. He turned to you for an explanation. “What happened this time?”

“Don’t—” You got cut off by another round of laughs. “Don’t worry about it, Ji.”

The human was starting to calm down, and seemed to have finally processed that Jisung had apparently miraculously been waiting outside the library when you two walked out. After all, the dragon didn’t have a backpack, laptop, or seemingly any school supplies on him. “Wait, what are you doing here, Jisung?”

“Oh, I was just waiting for Y/N.”

“Well, we’ll see you tomorrow, Renjun.” You waved goodbye to your human friend before he could say anything else, grabbing Jisung’s arm and pulling him off in the opposite direction.

Jisung spoke up a few seconds later. “Uh, Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Boba’s the other way.”

“Right. Sorry.” You made a face, awkwardly letting him change course and lead the way. “I was just trying to get out of there.”

“Why?”

“Oh, you know, Renjun was going on another one of his alien rants,” you fibbed a little, biting on the inside of your cheek.

Jisung snorted, and you watched a small puff of smoke shoot out of his nose, curling up into the air before entirely dissipating. “Thanks. How’d he get going this time?”

“Blue light glasses.”

His brow furrowed, the corner of his lip pulled up, and his nose wrinkled as he seemed to be trying to figure out how the jump was made from blue light glasses to aliens. Several of his sharp fangs were visible before his mouth relaxed again. “How—”

“You know it’s better not to ask with him.”

He sighed. “You’re right. I’m just glad we got out of there unscathed. Or at least I did. How about you? Are you in one piece still?”

Then Jisung’s two big, warm hands were on you, jokingly inspecting your hands, your arms, your neck, and your face for any harm done. You giggled, letting him turn over your arms and hold your hands and run his thumbs over your cheeks until he seemed satisfied, finishing it off with a pat to the top of your head.

“Yeah, I think I’m all here.” You absolutely knew that you were looking up at him with heart eyes. “Thanks for coming as quick as you did, any longer and I don’t think I would’ve made it this time.”

You were referring to the quick few minutes that had passed between you texting him that you were done with your project and when you actually laid eyes on him outside the library. It couldn’t have been more than five minutes, and it wasn’t like he had come from anywhere on campus: today was Saturday.

“Of course, I’ll always be around to rescue you from Renjun’s rants, you damsel in distress.”

“Isn’t it always the dragon that the princess needs to be rescued from in the fairytales?” You teased, bumping his shoulder with yours.

“Well maybe in this one, the dragon’s the hero—” Jisung wrapped his arms around your waist, picking you up and spinning you around. “—and rescues the princess from the crazed madman.”

You couldn’t help the cackling laughter that poured from your mouth, holding on against his supernaturally strong arms as he spun you once, twice, three times for good measure. Once you were back on two feet again, you had to clutch onto his upper arm to steady yourself as you regained your bearings. When you were sure you could walk in a straight line, you resumed your journey down the sidewalk together.

“And then the princess and the dragon fall in love and live happily ever after instead?” The words were out of your mouth before you could process the implications of them.

The dragon’s midnight blue eyes blinked at you a couple of times, and you opened your mouth to start the fastest backpedaling of your life, but then he just slung a casual arm around your shoulders.

“Yeah, something like that.” He shrugged. “Why not? I think that’s a pretty great ending. Almost as good as the dragon eating the crazed madman, which is what I was thinking.”

“Could do both,” you suggested, eyes glued to your feet.

Jisung laughed, and you looked up at him to make sure you caught his bright smile as he did. “I like that even better. Both.”

At Jasmine & Pearls, you happily accepted your drinks from Shotaro, the siren working behind the counter, before taking them to go. There was a small waterfront park just around the corner, and fall was starting to descend, meaning that it wouldn’t be too hot to just sit out there. You two walked a couple minutes down the trails away from the noisier playground to a secluded area, and found a nice soft patch of clover, wildflowers, and grasses to sit down on. Taking a sip of your boba and tilting your head back, you relished in the feeling of the warmth of the sun’s rays on your face. This was just a perfect Saturday. You had finished up your project, it was beautiful weather, and now you’re hanging out with Jisung.

“Hey, Jisung?” You pulled your head back up to look at him.

“Hm?” He raised his eyebrows, lifting his straw to his lips.

“How did you get to campus so fast?”

The dragon coughed on his drink for a second, and you were momentarily afraid of him actually choking on a tapioca pearl, but he thankfully pulled through. He scratched at the back of his neck, looking down at his drink as he mumbled something so quiet that you couldn’t make out a single word of it.

“What?”

“I was at the bakery,” he admitted, enunciating much clearer this time.

You immediately knew which one he was talking about. Half Moon Bakery, where your werewolf friend Jeno worked. It was just around the block from campus, not even a two-minute walk.

“Oh, were you and Chenle bothering Jeno at work?” That was one of Chenle’s favorite pastimes: causing mischief and having Jisung tag along. Not that Jisung didn’t often participate too, but it was typically the fairy’s idea.

“No, just me. I was… I was waiting for you to finish up at the library.”

A happiness swelled up in your chest, and your fingers itched to do something with all the extra energy suddenly coursing through your veins. So you started plucking some of the clover and flowers in front of you.

“Well I’m glad you did, Ji,” you smiled softly at him. “After all, it made your dashing rescue a lot easier.”

Jisung just kept gazing at you for a few more seconds before he suddenly looked down, picking up his boba and sucking down half of it in one go. You swore his ears were pink as he went to ask you, “So uhm, what was the project that you and Renjun were working on?”

“Well it’s for our Special Topics in Magical Creatures Studies class. This semester Dr. Kwon is teaching it, so of course you know what it’s about.”

He stared blankly at you, and you suddenly remembered that not everybody you know is a Magical Creatures Studies major like you and Renjun.

“Oh, sorry. Well, Dr. Kwon was the first human to have an interspecies marriage legally—”

This time a dribble of milk tea came out of the side of Jisung’s mouth as he coughed on it, and you unzipped the front pocket of your bookbag to grab a couple napkins you had stashed in there at the shop. He took them from you gratefully, wiping at his mouth.

“Sprung a leak, Ji?” You asked with an eyebrow raise. “You alright?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine. Go ahead, sorry.”

“Anyway, Dr. Kwon technically had the first marriage certificate for an interspecies marriage between a human and magical being that listed each as such. Obviously, there’s been a long history of romantic relationships between species as long as everyone’s existed, and as long as people have been getting married. It’s just that within in the modern history of our current society and laws, Dr. Kwon was the first that we know of. There were definitely couples that got married before her but had to falsify their species on the certificate at the time, unfortunately. And the fact that Dr. Kwon is still you know, alive, and plenty well enough to be teaching a class on this stuff… it’s really humbling. I’m honored to learn from her but it’s also a little harrowing that it hasn’t even been one lifetime yet, you know?”

“So the class is about…” Jisung prompted you again.

“Right, it’s about specifically the history of interspecies marriage. Both between different kinds of magical creatures and between magical creatures and humans. Every time it’s Dr. Kwon’s turn to teach Special Topics, this is what she teaches.”

“And, what is her spouse?”

“Siren. Mrs. Kwon will come in and guest lecture sometimes, too.”

“So… your project?”

“Just a five-minute presentation on a topic of our choice that relates to the unit we just did. She gave a list of topics, or we could come up with our own and get it approved. Renjun and I chose the role that religion plays in interspecies marriage. Because different creatures have different belief systems, gods and goddesses, and marriage rituals in their faith. Like dragons, for example.”

“Huh?!” He squeaked. Thankfully, he was out of boba tea, and therefore didn’t do a spit take all over you or something.

“Many dragons—I’m not saying you in particular, just historically—have worshipped the Sun and fire. Their marriage rituals often involved making offerings to the Sun by burning said offerings on a pyre. Now imagine a dragon and a siren want to get married. Sirens that usually not only have their weddings underwater for one, but believe that burning wedding offerings instead of throwing them into the water will offend the Sea. It’s not impossible, it’s just fascinating to witness the compromise, especially as it gets more common with integration. And I find it beautiful, every single time.”

Jisung rested his elbow on his knee, then his cheek in his head, mindlessly running his fingertips over the clover. “Yeah? And what’s the divorce rate like for interspecies marriage?”

“Better than intraspecies, actually.”

“Really?”

“Uh-huh.” You added in another flower to your weaving. “Fifty percent intraspecies, fifteen to twenty percent interspecies depending on the study you’re citing. The numbers on interspecies are obviously newer, and a bit harder to measure due to varying lifespans, but those are the ones that we work with in the field.”

“Interesting.”

“You want to know my theory?”

“Sure.”

“This one’s not peer-reviewed or anything, so don’t tell the other MCS majors, okay?”

“My lips are sealed,” he promised.

“Now, I’ve never been married, but… I think that if you’re too focused on what makes you the same, you’ll completely miss your differences and only realize them too late when those differences are eventually driving you apart. But if you start out already with these glaringly obviously differences and then find what makes you similar in addition to the differences—not in spite of them—then you get a clearer picture of who you’re with.”

You’d been so focused on your little task that you hadn’t looked up at Jisung a single time as you talked, but now you did, wondering why he was so quiet. He had gone still, staring at you, mouth parted, head tilted.

“What?” You looked around anxiously. “Did that not make sense? I thought that made sense?”

He shook his head. “No, no, that made sense. You just… gave me a lot to think about.”

“Careful, don’t hurt yourself with all that thinking,” you giggled, getting up onto your knees.

“Hey!”

“Shh, I’m kidding,” you reassured him, taking a couple kneeling steps closer to him and holding the clover and flower wreath you’d been weaving up towards his head.

“And when did you make that?”

“While you were staring at the ground. Now hold still.”

You gently set it down on his head, scooting it around and readjusting until you were content that it wasn’t going to fall off too easily. Sitting back on your feet, you admired your work. If it weren’t for his vertical slit pupils focused entirely on you as he gazed up at you, Jisung would’ve looked like a beautiful fairy prince. Enchanting, a clover and flower crown nestled atop his hair, faintly rosy cheeks, skin seeming to glow in the dappled light from the late afternoon sun shining in through the trees.

“There you go,” you murmured, realizing how close you were to him as you caught a familiar smoky smell like a campfire.

“Can you show me how to do that?” He asked, his eyes shining.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his enthusiasm, plopping back down onto your bottom. Well, there goes all that tension dissolved.

“Sure, Jisung. We’re going to start with three clovers and a flower. Whatever flowers you can find around here should be good.”

And so you guided the dragon through the steps of weaving a clover crown of his own. You yourself had learned this from Jaemin the first time you’d ever hung out with the dryad without Renjun around. Renjun had been the one to introduce you to all of his friends, Jisung included. You’d met Renjun in your Intro to Magical Creatures Studies class on your very first day of college two years ago, and your life had never been the same since. Your own hometown was mostly human, in fact there was exactly one family of basilisks there and that was it. That’s why you chose the major you did, to expand your world. And man, it had been expanded since.

Jaemin had invited you out to the park with him that particular day to “exercise Jeno” in the dryad’s words, which meant sitting in the grass and throwing a ball for Jeno to catch— with his hand. Except the ball was enchanted to change direction and run away from Jeno for a certain amount of time, then he’d finally get it, and toss it back to you or Jaemin to throw again. At the time, it felt wrong to be pretty much playing fetch with a werewolf—derogatory, even—so you had asked Jeno about how he felt about it after. He explained that the ball was invented by werewolves, for werewolves. Since werewolves don’t hunt their prey for sustenance anymore, they tend to have a lot of extra energy. Most days he would go to the gym or go on a run or bike ride to get it out, but today was such a nice day that he wanted to go out with his friends instead. While some werewolves didn’t like comparisons to dogs (such as Jaemin’s offer to “exercise Jeno”), Jeno didn’t mind them usually, as long as it was from friends, and truly in good fun.

It was on that park trip, while sitting in the clover with Jaemin, that the dryad had shown you how to weave a clover crown by hand. Even now, every time you saw a patch of clover, you thought about Jaemin and Jeno and that day at the park, and how to weave clover crowns.

“How are you friends with two dryads and you don’t know how to weave clover crowns?” You asked with mock disappointment as Jisung was about a third of the way through his.

“Do you honestly think they’re going to be jumping to teach me their secrets? Probably too afraid I’d set the whole patch of clover on fire,” Jisung grumbled, adding another flower to the crown as he continued his weaving.

You frowned, gently stroking the back of his head as you watched over his technique. “You know Jaemin and Donghyuck don’t think of you like that.”

He scoffed, “Yeah, they think of me like Chenle’s pet.”

“Hey!” You flicked his ear, earning a hiss. He rubbed his ear with one hand, pouting at you.

“They are your friends,” you said sternly. “I think you might realize that if you eased up on your little hermit dragon schtick.”

“Dragons are solitary creatures. Didn’t you learn that in Intro to MCS?”

“I’ll believe that you’re solitary as soon as you and Chenle detach from where you’re currently fused at the hip.”

“He’s not here now!”

“To my knowledge. He could be hiding in a trashcan or something, I don’t know.”

Jisung rolled his eyes. “His Highness would never hide in a trashcan.”

“Point taken,” you snickered.

“Well…” The dragon held up his finished clover crown for you to see. “What do you think?”

It was clearly his first attempt at one, crooked, with holes in several places, and a couple of the blue flowers he’d chosen falling out as he set it in your hands. But you still found it absolutely adorable, endearing.

“It’s great, Ji!” You praised him, turning it around to look at the weave patterns on the inside more closely. “Here, do you want to wear this one, and I can—”

“No, this one’s yours.” He took it right back, getting up on his knees like you had before to place it on your head.

You sat utterly still to let him do so, watching him with bated breath. He was perhaps even more focused on placing the clover crown on your head than he was on making it, his nose scrunched with concentration, mouth pouting just the slightest, and brow furrowed. Then, once he’d set it atop your head, he smiled to himself in satisfaction.

“So? How do I look?” You asked quietly, in the small space between the two of you.

“Like… like a princess,” Jisung answered breathily, in the narrow space between the two of you.

“Ji?” You said his name, in the minute space between the two of you.

“Yeah?” He replied, in the meager space between the two of you.

“Can I kiss y—” You didn’t even get to finish your request, as the infinite space between the two of you became a finite zero.

Kissing Jisung was warm, but not warm like the end-of-summer-turning-fall day you were enjoying before, warm like you were just feet away from a volcano, like you were kissing the very heart of a mountain. His hands cupped your cheeks as his lips meshed with yours. You had been propping yourself up with one hand behind you, but you felt the need to grab onto his arms to ground yourself. This was apparently just enough to throw your joint center of gravity off, as the both of you went toppling backwards—or, more precisely, you fell onto your back, with Jisung on top of you.

The dragon barely caught himself with a hand next to your head to keep from completely cracking his forehead against yours. You two still bonked noses, breaking the kiss, and giggled almost exactly in sync.

“Oops,” you laughed, reaching up to feel for your clover crown, happy that it was still kind of in the vicinity of your hair.

Jisung was using one hand to prop himself above you, and the other was readjusting his own clover crown to now sit on the back of his head. He was still grinning as he dipped down to kiss you again, and you held his face this time, running a thumb over his cheek.

Squished into one side of a booth in the student union with Jisung, you fervently read over your notes for your test in your next class.

“Fry,” Jisung murmured, holding said food up against your lips.

You opened your mouth without taking your eyes off your page, and he fed it to you. As you read about climate change’s effects on sirens’ native habitats, you chewed and swallowed the food without even tasting it. A moment later, a straw was pushed against your mouth too.

“Water.”

You took a sip to wash down the fry, humming contentedly as all the material in your notes was familiar to you. The test should be an uncomplicated A. Not an easy A, per se, but there shouldn’t be anything on it that surprised you, at least.

“What the hell?” Someone asked from beside your table, but you didn’t even look up. After all, you still had four more pages and only half an hour.

“What do you want, guys?” Jisung sighed. Oh, so more than one person. The first voice sounded familiar, probably some of your friends.

“What, uh, what’s going on here?” Different voice.

“Y/N’s studying. So if you don’t mind doing whatever this is later.”

Another fry. You chomped it down. Siren advocacy groups.

“Uh… sure. Yeah. You two… have fun. Come on, guys.” Third voice.

Water. Sip. Local community outreach.

When you came to a good stopping point in your notes—not quite done, but between topics—you finally looked up, setting your notebook down for a second. Jisung raised his eyebrows at you.

“Done already?” He asked, popping a fry into his own mouth.

You shook your head, taking a sip of your water on your own. “No, almost. Who was that?”

“Jeno, Jaemin, and Donghyuck.”

Hearing the names made the voices click into place. Donghyuck first, then Jeno, then Jaemin.

“Huh. Weirdos,” you scoffed. “Anyway, we still on for movie night at my place?”

“Absolutely. Chenle’s letting me borrow his box set of the director’s cut of those movies you wanted to watch.”

“Does Chenle know he’s letting you borrow these?”

“Yes, they’re hexed. If he weren’t letting me, they’d play the porno knockoff.”

You let out a full-body cackle. “Oh, that’s a good one. You can say a lot about His Highness, but you can’t say that he doesn’t have a sense humor.”

A couple weeks later, and all eight of you were meant to be having a study session together at the library. Seven of you were already there— Jisung was coming late from a class. You had been one of the first in the room, and immediately put a bag down on a chair next to you to save it for him.

You were so innocently humming along to your music in your headphones as you took notes when you saw a hand reaching to tap the table in front of you. Pausing your music, you took one headphone out to look at the owner of the hand—Donghyuck—inquisitively. “Yes?”

“So you and Jisung have been hanging out a lot recently…” He rested his chin in his hand.

You narrowed your eyes, “Well, yeah…”

“Her heartbeat went up when you mentioned Jisung,” Mark added oh-so-helpfully.

“Gee, thanks, Mark,” you scoffed at the basilisk. “You want to go ahead taste the air for my pheromones or whatever too while you’re at it? Really complete this bonkers supernatural interrogation?”

“And then there was the fry thing,” Jaemin added, pointing at you from his seat next to Donghyuck. “I haven’t forgotten that.”

Jeno shivered beside you, “I don’t think I ever can.”

“He’s going over to her apartment a lot for movie nights. He keeps asking to borrow my nice collector’s edition box sets,” Chenle added, not looking up from his laptop. He readjusted his blue light glasses. “I think he’s trying to impress her.”

You looked around at all of them incredulously. “Uh, guys, seriously? I think Jisung and I are allowed to hang out, watch movies together, and eat together considering we’re—”

“Y/L/N Y/N, I swear to god you better not say because you’re ‘besties’ right now,” Renjun cut you off, throwing air quotes up around the word ‘besties.’ “Seriously, how can two people be so oblivious?”

Oh. Holy shit. They all thought you and Jisung were still friends. Somehow, apparently none of them knew that you and Jisung had started officially dating since that day in the park three weeks ago.

You were just staring blankly between all six of them, not sure how to respond. Thankfully, the door to the study room was opened then, Jisung rushing in.

“Hey, I’m here!” His bright demeanor fell as soon as he noticed the tension in the room. “What’s going on? What’d I miss?”

“Nothing, Ji,” you turned to him with a smile. Taking your bag off the last chair in the study room, you told him sweetly, “Here, I saved you a seat next to me!”

“Oh, thanks, Y/N!” He happily took it, plopping his bag down on the table to take out his laptop.

After the study session was concluded, you all filed out together, you and Jisung right beside each other.

“Come on Jisung, I’ll drive,” Chenle called for his roommate, spinning his keys around his finger.

“Sure, hold on!” Jisung said back, waiting up to say goodbye to you.

“Renjun, you still up for ramen and ranting?” You clasped your hands together hopefully as you looked at your friend. It was ritual for you and Renjun to get together and rant over extra-spicy ramen whenever some drama had gone down within your department at the school. There’d been some going on this past week, and you and Renjun decided that late-night after studying was the perfect time to talk shit.

Except, he and Chenle seemed to lock eyes for a brief moment. And then, Renjun was checking his phone, throwing up his other hand, and sighing.

“Ah, Y/N, you know what,” he clicked his tongue. “I am so sorry, but I got a text from my dad while we were in that study session and he says the cat is sick. I’ve really got to go.”

“Your parents live three hours away—”

“Uh, Jisung! You like ramen!” Renjun gestured at the dragon that was still waiting next to you. “Why don’t you take Y/N for some ramen? Just- just you two?”

“That’s it! You’re taking too long, Jisung! I’m leaving you!” Chenle yelled dramatically from the front, giving his keys one last jangle before he quite literally ran off through campus.

You were too distracted watching Chenle incredulously to notice that Renjun had escaped too until you turned back around to talk to him. Then you realized that all of your friends had mysteriously dispersed.

“What just happened?” Jisung asked, looking around confused.

“I think… I think they set us up,” you scratched at your head.

“Like, a date? Don’t they…”

“I think they think they’re plotting to make us date.”

He blinked at you. You grabbed his arm to start walking down the sidewalks. “Come on, we can at least talk about this over some ramen.”

“Didn’t you tell them?” Jisung’s face seemed as though it was permanently stuck in the same bewildered expression. You two were side by side at your favorite 24-hour ramen bar by the university, and you had finally filled him in on what he missed in the study room.

You slurped up a noodle. “I thought you did.”

“I thought you were going to!”

“They were your friends first!” You retorted indignantly.

“Hey, I only claim Chenle,” he held up his chopsticks and spoon defensively. “The others just came along.”

It was true that Jisung had befriended Chenle first, and the others just sort of came with the fairy. After all, dragons did tend to be solitary creatures, and on top of that, you’d be hard-pressed to find one hanging out with a dryad on purpose, much less two.

“Speaking of Chenle, how did you not even mention it to him? You live with him!”

“Well, every time I was going somewhere with you I’d be like ‘Oh, I’m going to wherever with Y/N’ or ‘I’m going to Y/N’s place.’ It’s not like I could call you something else.”

You tilted your head curiously. “Something else?”

“Like… you know… my girlfriend,” Jisung mumbled, very focused on stirring up some of his broth.

“Well… you could.” You were getting warm, and not from the spicy ramen.

He looked up at you, a smile growing on his face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah…”

“Okay, on one condition.” He set down both his utensils, holding up the number one.

“What’s that?”

“You call me your boyfriend.”

“God you’re dumb sometimes,” you shook your head, but still had fondness in your tone and your actions as you brought your hand up, all five fingers up. “Yes, duh.”

Jisung got the idea, opening the rest of his hand back up to lace all of his fingers with yours. You squeezed his hand, your stomach doing flips at the softness in his eyes as he looked at you.

The two of you brought your hands back down to keep eating, and your boyfriend circled your conversation back around to the entire reason you were here in the first place.

“Anyway, our friends.”

“Our friends,” you repeated unenthusiastically. “So… how are we going do it? They’re going to be annoying no matter how we go about it.”

“Good point. You know… they’re going to keep meddling if we don’t say anything. What if we just… let them?” He suggested.

“You’re proposing we fake not date and let them all run themselves in circles trying to connive us into dating?”

“How long do you think it’ll take them to notice?”

“A month,” you snorted.

“A month?” He scoffed. “Come on, they’re a bit dumb but they’re not that bad. Like, two weeks.”

“I think part of it’s going to depend on how stupid they think we are.”

That looked like it changed Jisung’s mind. “You’re so right, a month at least.”

“They’re going to kill us when they find out.”

“Don’t worry, the big scary dragon will protect you from their wrath, princess,” Jisung teased, throwing an arm around your shoulders to pull you closer and kiss your cheek.

You laughed, wrapping an arm around his waist. “Ji, never call yourself that again. Please. Even as a joke.”

“So how was ramen?” Renjun asked before you could even open your mouth for a ‘good morning’ the next day.

“So how’s the family cat?” You shot back, taking your seat next to him in the lecture hall. “I was expecting to have to send you the notes for today since you had to drive to your parents’ three hours away in the middle of the night to see it.”

“You know, funniest thing happened. I had just gotten back to my apartment to pack, and my dad called me back and said the little guy made a full recovery. The vet called it a miracle. So I got my beauty rest in my own bed.”

You rolled your eyes. “Glad to hear Mr. Mittens is doing better.”

“So how was ramen?” The human repeated.

“Oh, it was really good!” You gushed. “I got a different bowl than I normally order, extra spicy still even though you and I weren’t gossiping, and I really, really liked it! I might make it my go-to order now instead of what I usually get.”

Renjun looked at you stone-faced. “Not the food, Y/N.”

“I don’t get it.”

“You and Jisung…”

“Ate ramen.”

“And…”

“Then we went home?”

“Separately?”

“He walked me home if that’s what you’re asking?” You raised an eyebrow. “He always offers to, especially at night. It’s really nice of him.”

“Yeah,” Renjun said knowingly. “He’s so nice.”

That afternoon, you met up with Jisung between classes in the student union, tucked away in an oversized armchair. You retold the story of Renjun asking about ramen to him, and your boyfriend giggled with delight.

“I’m telling you, Sungie, he looked like he was about to pop a blood vessel when he heard that we apparently didn’t magically fall in love over a bowl of ramen,” you snickered.

“Serves him right,” Jisung declared.

“What do you think they’re going to do next?”

“Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

“In the meantime… movie night tonight?”

“I don’t know, I’m running out of Chenle’s box sets to impress you with.”

You laughed, gently nudging him in the side. “Guess you’ll just have to—”

“Hey… guys… what’s up?” Someone sputtered out from behind and just off to the side of the armchair.

Both you and Jisung whipped around to see Mark standing there, fountain drink in hand. He pulled his over-ear headphones off then, hanging them around his neck.

“Oh, hey Mark,” you waved at him, trying to play this off as casually as possible.

“Why are you two— you know,” he gestured vaguely to you and Jisung.

Jisung sat forward a bit, making the posing a bit less intimate with your faces further from each other. “Y/N and I both have time in between classes now, so we’re hanging out. I’d invite you on, but I don’t think there’s room. You can definitely pull up a chair or something and sit with us if you’ve got time though.”

“No, no, I’m good man,” the basilisk rejected the offer quickly. “Besides, I’ve got to meet up with Johnny for a thing, so, yeah. You two have fun… hanging out. Looks comfy.”

“Bye Mark!” You waved goodbye to him too, watching as he practically ran out of the building.

“Chenle asked me point blank if this was just a movie night,” Jisung informed you, plopping down onto your couch.

“Observant of him.” You sat down beside him and grabbed your remote to queue up the first movie. “And what did you say?”

“I asked him what else it could possibly be.”

“And that worked?”

“Yes,” your boyfriend huffed, a wisp of smoke shooting out his nose. “I don’t know if I should be relieved or offended that everyone is so willing to believe that I’m this stupid.”

With the DVD previews now playing, you set the remote down to get settled in for the movie. Jisung lifted an arm up for you to snuggle into his side, and you let out a contented sigh at the familiar warmth and smoky scent that enveloped you. It was like cuddling your own personal furnace.

“For now, be thankful, Ji,” you patted his chest. “After all, we’ll never know this kind of peace after they find out.”

He stroked a knuckle up and down your arm lazily. “Yeah... you’re right.”

“Of course I am.”

“Hey, look at me?” He requested, his voice a murmur. “You’ve got something on your mouth.”

You lifted your head up, confused. Just as you’d complied, the dragon swooped in, pressing his lips to yours in a dizzying kiss.

Your head was still spinning as he pulled away, running his thumb over your bottom lip, where his fangs had just been nibbling the moment prior.

“I-I thought there was something on my mouth?” You asked breathily.

“There was.” He smirked, still holding your chin in place. “It was my mouth.”

“Eep!” You let out a squeal as you nearly lost your balance, grabbing onto the shoulder of the closest person to keep from completely wiping out.

Jeno thankfully wasn’t very easy to knock over, and held your elbow to help you stay upright as you struggled to get reoriented. All your friends had gone ice skating today, and you were now realizing that you couldn’t even remember the last time you’d gone. You were a bit out of practice.

“You got it, Y/N?” The werewolf asked warily as you took a couple more cautious steps forward.

You wobbled a little. “Uh. No. Sorry, Jeno, just put me on the wall.”

“Here, you got her?” Jeno was talking to somebody else, but your eyes were glued to your skates to make sure you didn’t slip. So you weren’t even looking as the werewolf’s shoulder disappeared from your grip and was replaced by somebody else’s.

A warm hand was taking and moving yours, encouraging you to hold onto his upper arm for support. You immediately recognized it as Jisung’s, the only other person who would be this warm in the freezing temperature of the ice rink besides the werewolf who just left you. Pulling in closer to Jisung now, you felt a little bit more stable, and finally comfortable enough to look up from your feet to your boyfriend.

“Thanks, Ji,” you said genuinely, squeezing his arm.

“You’re welcome.” He smiled down at you. “Do you think you’re ready to start skating? The other guys have kind of abandoned us.”

Focusing your gaze ahead of you, you saw that your other six friends were way ahead of you on the rink. In fact, you couldn’t even see some of them at all, suspecting that they were about to be coming up behind you to lap you.

You nodded, preparing yourself mentally. “Yeah, I think I’m ready.”

And so you and Jisung started slowly moving along the ice together. Despite Jisung helping you stay upright initially—you still weren’t sure if he volunteered or was volunteered by your little matchmakers—he wasn’t really too adept of an ice skater either. He was truly only marginally better than you, so the two of you were slow going, and had a couple close calls in regards to stumbles. But you didn’t mind, you were spending time with your boyfriend and your friends. It was shaping up to be a really good day.

“Sorry, be right back. Bathroom break,” Chenle excused himself from the conversation you three were having at the moment, skating off at the next exit you passed by.

Craning your neck around, you realized that none of your friends were on the ice anymore. Renjun went to switch his skates out for a different size fifteen minutes ago, Mark and Jeno went to get food ten minutes ago, Jaemin and Donghyuck needed a water break five minutes ago, and now Chenle’s bathroom break.

“Huh…” You caught Jisung’s eye knowingly. “Looks like it’s just us now, Sungie…”

“Miraculously it is,” he agreed sarcastically.

“You think they’re coming back?”

Then both your phones went off, a text tone. Jisung stopped the two of you skating to take his out, showing that it was a text in your group chat with everybody.

[donghyuck: the concessions stand nachos gave mark food poisoning and he threw up everywhere so we’re all taking him home! you guys stay and skate though! have fun!]

“Guess not,” you sighed. “For Mark’s sake, and the poor employees’ sake, I hope that’s a complete lie.”

“Well, now that they’re gone…” Jisung turned to you, taking both of your hands in his and bringing them up to his mouth, blowing hot air over them. Your numb fingers quickly warmed up, and you watched his every move lovingly. He brought your hands back down from his mouth, eyes pleading, as he asked, “Can we go? I hate the cold.”

You laughed, nodding as you squeezed his hands. “Of course, yes.”

“Oh, thank you, thank you.” Jisung practically dragged you to the exit, lifting you with an arm around your waist to help you down the big step down from the rink to the main floor.

[jisung: did donghyuck ask you to meet him at the coffee shop in the student union in ten minutes?]

[you: no, but mark did]

[jisung: well, i'll see you in ten]

With a fond shake of your head, you pocketed your phone and started your journey across campus. Looks like you were going to have an impromptu coffee date with Jisung. You had to admit it, while their meddling could be annoying, it was a little fun sometimes to see when your next spontaneous date with your own boyfriend would be, as arranged by your six little matchmakers.

As you arrived at the small but extremely busy campus coffee shop, you surmised that you were the first one to get there, and hopped in the obscenely long line to at least order for yourself. You took out your phone to text your friend that you were supposed to be meeting.

[you: hey, i’m here! i’m in line, what do you want, in case i order before you get here?]

Mark did immediately text back his coffee order—which was actually an order for one of the “refreshers” that you were pretty sure was just a mix of various juices. Coffee was too bitter for his extremely sensitive snake tongue.

Your basilisk friend found you while you were still waiting for the drinks to come out, and once you had them in hand, the two of you went to find a spot to sit down together. You raised an eyebrow when he suggested a table with four chairs instead of the two-seater that you had spotted, but you shrugged and accepted his reasoning that it was in a quieter area. Sitting across from him, you put your bag in the seat next to you.

“So how’s your day going, Mark?” You asked him brightly, taking a sip of your drink.

“Hm? Oh, good, good.” His eyes flitted around the student union almost anxiously, as if he were anticipating something.

You pushed on in the conversation, however. “That’s good. And how are your powers coming along?”

Most natural-born magical creatures started developing their powers practically at birth, but basilisks didn’t come into theirs until after their first molting—which Mark just had last year. The last you’d heard, he’d partially petrified his human roommate Johnny back in the spring and had been working on getting them under control as they got stronger since.

“It’d be a lot better if Johnny would just let Taeil and Doyoung make him a protection charm so that I wouldn’t keep accidentally compelling and petrifying him,” Mark covered his face with a groan. “But no, he’s got this whole deal about wanting to make sure we all know he doesn’t think we’re monsters and he’s not afraid of us. Which is all well and good but like come on, maybe he should take at least some precautions when he’s like getting petrified by his basilisk roommate every week! So now I have to wear sunglasses around the apartment like I’m hungover 24/7.”

You winced sympathetically, not realizing the situation was that bad. “Maybe start sprinkling some weasel fur into his morning coffee?”

“Eugh, weasel fur coffee. I think you’ve described my actual worst nightmare.” Mark wrinkled his nose and looked like he was genuinely holding back a gag. “Anyway, I think he might notice if there were suddenly furs in his iced Americano every morning.”

“Maybe the witches can put it in something else innocuous that he’d use every day? It’d just be until you got a handle on your powers, remember.”

“If I ever do,” he sighed, stirring his straw around in his drink.

“You will, Mark,” you tried to reassure him. “It’s only been a year. These things take time.”

“Yeah, MCS major? Want to give me some statistics on basilisk powers to make me feel better?” He retorted, and you knew your friend well enough to understand that the words were meant to be light-hearted, despite the bitter and biting tone that they came out with instead.

You gave him a frank look. “I’m not Renjun. I’m not a walking, talking encyclopedia of magical creatures. But if you insist on making me think back to Intro to MCS… On average, basilisks take two to three years to reach full development of their powers after molting. You just molted a little over a year ago, you can’t put so much pressure on yourself to be perfect already, Mark.”

He ran a hand through his hair, forked tongue flicking in the air before he spoke again. “Fine, fine. You’re right. I knew all this, it’s just… it’s a lot more of a relief to hear it from somebody else.”

“I know what you mean, don’t worry,” you smiled at your friend.

He smiled back at you, genuinely, a flash of his two sharp snake fangs that hadn’t finished descending yet, then it turned sort of weird, before the smile fell entirely from his face. Mark sat forward in his chair, looking a bit more businesslike now. “Y/N, I’ve got to tell you something, and I don’t have very long, so please don’t say anything, just let me talk, okay?”

Your eyes widened with alarm at whatever the hell could be coming next, but you just slowly nodded.

“Thanks. I didn’t just ask you here to get coffee and hang out. I’m really sorry. You see, Donghyuck and I—”

“Mark! Y/N! Hey!” The very dryad that had just been named suddenly emerged from the crowd, with your boyfriend in tow.

Mark gave you an apologetic look before he turned to Donghyuck and Jisung. “Oh. Donghyuck. And Jisung. What a… surprise.”

The two newcomers each had their own coffee orders in hand, and you smiled at them.

“Hey, guys! Did you two get coffee too?” You did your best to pretend both like you had no clue something was up because Jisung told you about it, and because Mark had just almost told you about it.

“Yeah, we did!” Donghyuck replied cheerily.

“Well, we have a couple extra seats, if you want to join us,” you offered of your own volition this time, taking your bag off the chair next to you.

Jisung remained standing for a moment, looking to Donghyuck for his cue. The dryad was absolutely beaming.

“Of course!” He slid right in next to Mark, who looked like he wanted to die. “Thanks, Y/N!”

The dragon took the seat beside you with no further prompting.

You turned your focus back to the basilisk, doing your absolute best to feign obliviousness. “So, what were you saying, Mark?”

Donghyuck looked at him pointedly. “Yeah, Mark, what were you saying?”

“Never mind, I forgot,” he waved it off. “Wasn’t important, I guess.”

You shrugged, taking a sip of your drink.

“What’d you get, Y/N?” Jisung asked curiously.

“My usual. You want some?”

“Sure.”

You held yours out to him at the same time that he handed his over to you in return. As naturally as you could with the two pairs of dumbfounded eyes glued to you, you took a sip of Jisung’s drink. Yep, it was his regular order, same as always. You handed it back, holding out an expectant hand to receive yours again.

Jisung didn’t let either of your two slack-jawed friends recover to ask questions or make comments, though, immediately engaging them in conversation. “Donghyuck, how’d that report go, by the way?”

“Oh, don’t get me started on that Panforsaken assignment!”

Jaemin threw the ball as hard as he could, and you watch as it sailed in a perfect arc, then suddenly changed direction midair, leaving Jeno to have to turn on the spot and run to catch up. You three had all gone back to the park again today, you and Jaemin weaving endless clover crowns in between throwing the ball for Jeno. It was another lovely day, a bit crisper than when you and Jisung had gone. A single, puffy white cloud floated by overhead as you hummed a tune to yourself, fingers mindlessly weaving in another blue wildflower.

“Y/N...” Jaemin said, reminding you of your dad who had caught you sneaking in after your curfew.

“Jaemin...” You mimicked his tone.

“So... what’s going on with you?”

“Spit it out, Jaemin. You clearly want to ask me about something specific.”

“Y/N, I’m a dryad. I’m in touch with nature, you know. The plants, the trees, the dirt, the animals, all of it,” he explained, setting his weaving down. “And that includes humans. As much as you humans don’t want to admit it, you’re a part of nature, too. And I know I can’t feel your emotions like a unicorn can, but I can tell that you and Jisung clearly care for each other.”

“Yeah, Jaemin, I love all of you guys. We’ve become really good friends over the years.”

“No, Y/N. Differently than the rest of us care for each other.” The dryad patted your cheek, a wistful look on his face. “I don’t know if you’re just lying to yourself, or if you haven’t realized it yet, but you and Jisung… it is different than the rest of us.”

You had to bite down on your bottom lip, cover your mouth, and hide your face in your chest to keep from laughing right in Jaemin’s face and entirely blowing your cover right then and there. The dryad clearly misinterpreted your actions, as he scooted closer and wrapped his arms around you, shushing and cooing at you.

“It’s okay, Y/N. It’s okay.” He rubbed your back. “I can’t feel dragons as well for… obvious reasons, but he likes you too. I promise. It’s all going to work out.”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak without giggling then.

“I got it—! Oh, uh…” Jeno’s excited cheers cut off as his voice got closer and closer. “Are you... okay?”

You felt Jaemin take one of his hands off your back, and could only imagine whatever silent conversation the two of them were having with gestures. After “composing yourself” again, you sat up straight, looking up at Jeno and holding your hand out.

“Yeah, I’m fine, Jeno,” you reassured him. “Come on, dude. It’s my turn to throw.”

You drummed your fingers on the table beside your book, the highlighter nearly falling out of your other hand as you were about to fall asleep. Jeno, Jaemin, and Donghyuck weren’t faring any better than you, seeming about ready to fall asleep over their own textbooks and laptops too. The only member of your little study group who didn’t seem to be on the brink of a boredom-induced coma was Renjun. The human was chugging along through the assigned reading for one of your classes as per usual, dutifully taking his color-coded notes. You watched him through half-lidded, tired eyes, trying to figure out if he was maybe a robot, or was on Adderall, or was on the magic equivalent of Adderall, to be this committed of a student.

Renjun’s gaze slowly lifted from his textbook to you, then he raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “Yes, Y/N?”

“Okay. What is it?” You narrowed your eyes at him. “Drugs? Aliens? Because I’ll believe in the little guys now.”

“What?”

“How can you not be—”

“Hey, Y/N.” A soothing voice, warm hand on your head, and familiar cup from the campus coffee shop being placed in front of your face cut off your rambles right as you had begun to pick up steam. “Brought this for you.”

You looked up at Jisung, offering him as much of a smile as you could in your frazzled state. “Oh, hey, Ji. Thank you.”

“Also grabbed you these.” He unzipped the front pocket of his bookbag, taking out a holographic box of candy and setting it next to the drink on the table.

“Oh, Sungie…” You sighed, feeling the tension in your shoulders dissipate at the sweet gesture from your boyfriend. “Thank you. Seriously.”

Jisung gave your shoulder a squeeze. “‘Course. Well, I should let you get back to studying. I’ll see you later, princess.”

“Bye, Ji.” You gave him an unamused look, earning only a cheeky little smile in return. He got to walk away and leave you to deal with the aftermath of that nickname drop.

After he left, you were smiling to yourself happily anyway, basking in the warm, fuzzy feeling in your chest when you turned back around to see the looks on your friends’ faces. It took everything in you not to burst out laughing.

“He’s calling you ‘princess.’” Donghyuck deadpanned.

“Oh that? That’s just an inside joke.” You tried to play it off with a light, nervous laugh. “It’s not—”

“Inside joke?” Jeno repeated, as if there were any way for him to mishear you in the dead quiet of the library.

“Oh we would love to be enlightened to how this joke came about.” Jaemin requested sweetly, lacing his fingers together and resting his chin on them.

Donghyuck leapt back in to take the lead again. “Yeah, yeah, I’m sure it’s hilarious. Jisung is really known for his sense of humor. You know, like all dragons.”

You went to crack open the box of gummy candy Jisung had brought you, enchanted to change color and flavor based on your mood. This time the gummies were yellow and pink, lemon and strawberry flavored.

“Yeah, it’s a long story but that’s it. He doesn’t…” You trailed off sheepishly, giving them a look as if it were the most impossible thing in the world to imply that Jisung could possibly have romantic intentions behind calling you that.

Donghyuck’s eye twitched.

You weren’t alone with Jisung again until the next night. Laying on your bed in your room, you heard the sound of your front door unlocking, then Jisung calling out to announce his presence. You yelled back loud enough so he knew where in the apartment you were.

As soon as he poked his head into your bedroom, you shot up in bed, pointing at him accusingly.

“You are a menace,” you declared, sitting up fully.

He snorted a puff of smoke out in disbelief. “What?”

“Donghyuck about exploded trying to explain the concept of petnames to me after you called me ‘princess’ yesterday.”

“I’ll do you one better.” Jisung challenged you, slinging his backpack around to his front.

“Oh really?”

He unzipped the main pocket of his bag to start rooting around in it. “I got a Renjun lecture of epic proportions today about human dating rituals.”

“No.” You covered your mouth with your hand in horror.

“He made me a PowerPoint and everything. I had to take notes.” Jisung dropped a spiral notebook onto your bed, and you scrambled forward to grab it.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, eyes skimming over the page. There, in Jisung’s messy scrawl, were little notes about how human dates work: gifts, flowers, the whole works. It was definitely a Renjun lecture, because it was phrased from an academic viewpoint, and absolutely did not read like just a friend giving another friend dating advice.

You looked up from the page to your boyfriend. “How did this even—”

“I really should’ve been more suspicious of his offer to study buddy up since you guys just studied yesterday, because I was then falsely imprisoned in a study room.”

“Oh, Sungie,” you cooed, tossing the notebook aside and reaching out for his face instead. “I am so sorry you had to be subjected to that.”

“I tried to tell him that I grew up around humanoids just fine, but he said that Chenle didn’t count,” Jisung sighed, letting you cradle his cheeks in your hands.

You chuckled. “Well, I do sort of have to agree with Renjun there. I like Chenle, but a fairy prince isn’t exactly representative of humans.”

“What?” He gave you a thoughtful pout.

“I mean, my aunt married a basilisk, so I grew up with basilisk cousins. But you wouldn’t want me to say that I know about dragons because of that, right?”

“Well… I guess, yeah.”

“That’s all I mean, Sungie.” You reassured him, looping your arms around his neck. “That doesn’t mean I wanted you to be locked in a study room all by yourself with Renjun for who knows how long being lectured on supposed human courting.”

“I wasn’t by myself, Jaemin was there too. He was the one keeping the door locked.”

You nodded solemnly, easily able to imagine how the dryad could do that any number of ways with any number of plants. Pulling him closer to you, you pecked his nose, then the apples of his cheeks.

“Seems like the dragon needed rescuing from the crazed madman this time, hm?” You teased as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“Yes, unfortunately I think the school would have frowned upon me eating him or his leafy accomplice.”

“Presumably.”

He let his head fall forward into the crook of your neck with a groan, his hot breath washing over your skin.

“Well, you’re all safe here in my tower now,” you promised him, threading your fingers through his hair.

Reclined into a corner of Jeno and Jaemin’s couch, you happily munched on your snack, feet propped up in Jaemin’s lap. Everyone was meeting at their apartment for a video game night, and you were still waiting on a couple more to arrive before you could officially start your mess of a tournament. Everyone’s schedules fluctuated so much that you always planned on having at least one required full-group hangout every month. Usually the activity chosen was a bit more exotic, but after Renjun's submission for last month’s “weirdly niche PowerPoint night” that was supposed to be ten minutes at most ended up being over an hour, it was decided that something easy and mundane was in order for this month. So, pizza and Super Smash Bros.

Chenle had arrived a couple minutes ago, unfortunately without his roommate. You knew that Jisung had ended up staying at the library much later than he intended—his assignment took longer than he expected to complete—but he was on his way now. The fairy was sitting sideways in an armchair, legs dangling over one arm and head supported by the other as he scrolled on his phone.

There was a knock at the front door, and Jeno got up to get it, as his roommate was currently preoccupied being your footrest. Not that the dryad seemed to mind, he was perfectly content to scold and correct Renjun from afar on how he was (apparently incorrectly) setting up the gaming system to accommodate all the additional controllers the eight of you would require to play at the same time.

Renjun was sat directly in front of the TV, bickering back with him. “Oh, you want to come get up and do it yourself, Jaemin? It’s your fucking Switch anyway.”

“Don’t need to get up,” Jaemin replied smugly, shooting a vine out to smack Renjun on the back of the head.

His reflexes were quicker than the human’s, as the plant had snapped back out of Renjun’s reach before he could grab it. What he was going to do with it if he got it, you didn’t want to know.

“Hey!” “Hi.”

You looked up from the building tension at the cheerful greetings. It had been Mark and Donghyuck at the door, the basilisk wordlessly squatting down next to Renjun to take a look at the gaming system too. You gave the newcomers a wave from your spot, which was slightly hindered by the sleeves of your oversized sweatshirt.

“I like that hoodie, Y/N.” Donghyuck sat down next to Jaemin on the couch, grabbing a chip out of the large bowl on the coffee table.

“Yeah, looks comfy.” Jaemin grabbed the end of the big sleeves and shook them around for emphasis. “Where’d you get it?”

“Huh?” You looked down at exactly what you were wearing. Well, shit. It was a plain black hoodie with a small simple embroidery of the brand’s logo on the front. It wasn’t yours, and you’d specifically worn it here so that you wouldn’t forget to bring it with you to give it back to the actual owner. “Oh, I don’t know, you’d have to ask Jisung, it’s his.”

“What?!” Donghyuck crushed his chip in his hand. Jaemin put a hand on his arm to encourage him to calm down.

“Yeah, we were hanging out yesterday and I got cold, so he let me borrow it. He accidentally left my place without it, so I’ve actually got to return it to him when he gets here.” And that was the truth. Not even carefully chosen words, or twisting of the narrative.

Donghyuck’s outburst had drawn the attention of everybody else in the living room—save for Chenle, who was still flicking through his phone.

“Wait, wait, let me get this straight, Jisung let you borrow something of his?” Renjun clarified.

“Yeah, Ji lets me use his stuff sometimes.”

Your human friend completely set the pieces of the gaming console down, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Y/N. You’re a Magical Creatures Studies major. Think. A dragon let you borrow his stuff? And even forgot to ask for it back? Allegedly.”

“Oh my G— Renjun, come on! A bit stereotypical, don’t you think?” You crossed your arms defensively.

“Stereotype or not, Jisung doesn’t share,” Chenle cut in dryly. “He’s very protective of his hoard.”

“See?” Renjun gestured at the fairy vigorously.

You looked to the others for help, the panic in you real this time. Donghyuck looked like he finally had the last piece he needed to connect to finish his conspiracy board; Jaemin gave you a pointed, but satisfied look; Mark refused to meet your pleading eyes; and even Jeno, sweet Jeno, could just shrug at you.

“Dragons are kind of like werewolves, right?” He added casually. “We scent our pack. Or, I guess dragons have a nest?”

You could barely hear Jeno’s pondering at the end about the proper terminology for dragons, as nearly everyone else in the room about lost their damn minds at you. Their victorious cheers, jeers, and jokes went in one ear and out the other as your hands felt at the soft material of the inside of the hoodie.

As an MCS major, you always tried very hard to not treat your friends simply as their species, but as individuals, too, and learn about them personally in addition to whatever was covered in class. That was especially true for Jisung, who you knew didn’t really grow up around other dragons, so the habits and customs of dragons that you studied weren’t so easily applied to him. So when he offered you his hoodie last night, it was easy for you to just be giddy and happy because your boyfriend was sharing clothes with you. But it wasn’t just a hoodie, really. You and Renjun hadn’t taken your class on dragons, basilisks, and wyverns yet, therefore the only stuff you knew was from Intro to MCS and personal experience. But this was still—

Then, the doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it!” Donghyuck shot to his feet and ran for the front door before anybody else could.

“Speak of the dragon and he shall appear!” The dryad announced cheerfully just a second later, dragging Jisung in with an arm around his neck.

“Hey, Jisung!” Jaemin brushed your feet off his lap to stand up as well. “Here, sit. I’ll grab you something to drink.”

“Uh, hey, guys.” Jisung shook Donghyuck off to straighten up and look around at everyone. The dragon sat down beside you. “Hi, Y/N.”

“Hey, Ji. I’ve got your hoodie, sorry about accidentally stealing it last night.” You grabbed the hem, about to take it off to give it back.

“It’s okay, you can hold onto it. It’s a bit drafty in here.” He waved you off nonchalantly, accepting a drink from Jaemin, who had just returned from the kitchen.

“Oh. Thanks.” You pulled your knees in to your chest, too overwhelmed to say much else.

Renjun was right, you were well aware that dragons were possessive over their belongings— gold or otherwise. The gravity of Jisung offering the hoodie to you in the first place and now letting you keep it was not lost on you. And then there was of course Jeno’s insightful comment.

“So why were you talking about me without me around?” Jisung asked the others, not sounding very thrilled at the idea.

“Y/N was just telling us that you two were hanging out last night.” Donghyuck happily informed him.

“Alone.” Jaemin added.

“Again.” Jeno coughed.

The first dryad continued, “We’re hurt that we weren’t invited.”

Jisung scoffed, “Well considering you guys just disappear all the time now, we figured you didn’t like hanging out with us anymore.”

“But since you want to hang so bad, we should all do something this weekend!” You leapt in to suggest.

“Great idea, Y/N.” Jaemin was beaming at you.

Chenle tapped a couple things on his phone as he offered, “Isn’t the student activities board hosting that movie screening on the lawn?”

“Yeah!” Mark perked up, looking up from all the wires and controllers he was still messing with. “Taeyong’s on the board this year and he’s really excited for everything they’ve got planned. I know he’d love it if we all went.”

Taeyong was another friend of Mark’s; a unicorn, if you could recall correctly.

“Sounds like a plan.” Jisung nodded.

You pointed a threatening finger at everyone except your boyfriend, “And I swear, if a single one of you bail in the middle of the movie, I’m going to think you hate me.”

“Y/N! I could never hate you!” Jaemin gasped, throwing a hand over his chest in offense.

“Then stop leaving me!”

“C’mon, Renjun, we’re gonna miss the start of the movie!” You were practically dragging your friend through campus.

“You mean you’re going to miss precious time with Jisung,” Renjun retorted, but nevertheless gave in to your tugging on his arm, starting a light jog to keep up with you.

“And what do you mean by that?” You asked. Honestly, you were kind of hoping that he was onto you. It was funny at first to see your friends run themselves in circles, but now it was just a bit saddening—and annoying—to not interact with your boyfriend how you really wanted to all the time.

Your human friend sighed. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

Finally, the two of you arrived at the front lawn, and you craned your neck around to look for your other friends. You and Renjun were the last two to arrive. There, off to the side and up towards the front of the open space, several blankets overlapped, and your other six friends were sprawled out on them. Jeno and Jisung had spotted you two already, waving to get your attention.

A large white screen had been set up to one side of the university’s front lawn, the chosen movie being projected across it. Thankfully, it hadn’t started yet. You could see a stand where the student activities board was handing out popcorn, and students were scattered about the lawn. Your friends had gotten a spot opposite from the snack stand, and you and Renjun traversed your way around other attendees to get to them.

“Hey!” You smiled at everyone, plopping down beside Jisung without a second thought. “Sorry we were almost late—”

“But somebody forgot the candy.” Renjun cut in as he dropped a convenience store bag onto the center of the blankets, pointed glare fixed on Chenle and Jisung.

“We remembered the chips!” Jisung defensively pointed to a pile of bags of chips and other salty snacks that were sitting in the middle of everyone.

Mark patted a cooler beside him. “And Hyuck and I remembered the drinks. And nobody’s late. So everything’s fine, Renjun.”

You chuckled, overturning the bag to dump out all the boxes and bags of candy onto the pile of snacks as well. Everyone grabbed what they wanted and settled in for the start of the movie. It was cool outside, and though you were already wearing Jisung’s big hoodie, you also wrapped one of the extra blankets around your shoulders.

“Are you cold?” Jisung asked you quietly. There was a steady hum of chatter from the crowd, which had become a little softer with the beginning of the movie.

“‘M alright, Ji,” you reassured him. “Just... don’t move too far away. You’re like a portable space heater.”

He shifted around to lay down, his head and most of his upper body in your lap. You weren’t sure how much of the movie he could actually see from this angle, with Mark, Jeno, and Renjun in front of you, but you weren’t going to be the one to point that out. The two of you were towards the back corner of the blankets, Jaemin and Donghyuck to your left, Chenle on the other side of and in front of Donghyuck; Mark and Renjun were properly sitting up at the front of the blanket, with Jeno sprawled out across their laps—reminding you just a little bit of a happy puppy looking for ear rubs.

You fondly brushed some of Jisung’s hair out of his eyes, contemplating the pros and cons of just kissing him on the nose right now. Yeah, there’d probably be no way in hell you could play that off, but he was scrunching it up very adorably as he concentrated on reaching for a small patch of clover that was just off to the side next to the blanket.

You were still weighing your options when he changed his focus to a point just past your head instead. His eyes flicked between the weaving in his hands and the sky as he got the clover crown started, but once he’d gotten the rhythm down, he just kept gazing upwards.

“Pretty stars...” He murmured.

“I know.” You looked up at the sky, at all the stars twinkling and winking back at you. “What do we think? Are there aliens up there with them?”

“Mm... Maybe.”

You looked down at Jisung, mouth quirked up in an amused but affectionate smile. “Yeah?”

“Well, space is pretty big.”

After a pause, you nodded. “Okay, sure. Why not?”

“Seriously?” Renjun was looking at you over his shoulder incredulously. “I’ve done actual research on this, I’ve tried to succinctly make real arguments for you multiple times since we met, I chose it for my PowerPoint night topic with actual scientific studies and facts. And Jisung just bats his eyelashes at you and says ‘space is big’ and you’re convinced?”

He looked like he was about to pop a blood vessel. You froze, looking around at all of your friends that had turned to witness this interaction like you were the movie instead.

Jisung frowned. “I didn’t bat my eyelashes. Did I bat my eyelashes?”

“You kind of did, Jisung.” Chenle reached over to ruffle his hair, and the dragon swatted his hand away, earning a cackle from the fairy.

“Uhh...” You scrambled to think of a way to placate your human friend. “I think I just needed some time to get my head around the idea, Renjun. You know, I think the next time you really would have persuaded me, but Jisung just beat you to it, sorry.”

Renjun didn’t seem convinced, but just rolled his eyes and looked back to the movie. “Yeah, I’m sure I would’ve gotten you next time, Y/N. Tin foil hat and all.”

The others all turned back to the movie now that the spectacle was over, except for Jaemin, whose attention was still on your boyfriend.

“Jisung? When’d you learn to make clover crowns?” He asked curiously, head tilted.

“Hm? Oh, Y/N showed me.” Jisung replied absentmindedly, looking down at his hands as if he hadn’t even realized he was doing it.

Jaemin looked at you with wide eyes, and you looked back at him sheepishly in a silent conversation, as you both were definitely thinking of the exact same thing.

The day that Jaemin had shown you how to make clover crowns, he’d told you an oral tradition that was passed down among dryads about them. Your friends were always happy to indulge your interest in the folklore and religious/spiritual aspect of Magical Creatures Studies, especially in contrast to Renjun’s sometimes militant laser focus on the current socioeconomic-political structure of modern society.

It was a story about two dryads who were in love. One had to leave—depending on who was telling the story, it was a trip, a war, or a kidnapping; Jaemin opted for a dangerous trip—for an indeterminate amount of time. The other dryad waited, and weaved a clover crown every day until their lover came back to them. Nowadays, dryads will weave clover crowns for their loved ones, it’s a treasured tradition for older members of families to show young relatives how to do it, and elaborate clover crowns with specific flowers will sometimes be given as confessions or special gifts to romantic partners. Clover crowns are connected to the idea of love for dryads.

And judging by the look Jaemin was giving you, he was not going to ascribe this one to cultural differences.

Donghyuck had whipped around at this revelation as well, and smacked Jaemin’s arm to get his attention. The two dryads leaned their heads together to have a hushed conversation of fervent whispers, and you desperately hoped that whatever they were saying was both quiet enough for your friends with super hearing to not be able to distinguish, and vague enough that if it could be overheard, it wouldn’t make any sense to them. Well, specifically Jisung.

You were walking a very narrow tightrope of wanting your friends to find you two out so you could get it over with, while also not needing them to find out this way, since Jisung didn’t even know about the meaning behind the clover crowns. Your relationship was still new, fresh, bubbly, and good; you two hadn’t even said ‘I love you’ yet. Based on how the dragon had reacted to just you discussing the societal concept of marriage in an academic context before, you wanted to approach the whole ‘I love you’ situation with a lot more tact than your friends would surely have.

You’d been nervously watching the two dryads when a tap on your shoulder stole your attention back. You looked down at Jisung attentively. “Yeah, Sungie?”

“Here,” he said simply, holding up the finished clover crown for you.

Despite the anxious pretzels that your stomach was knotting itself into, you couldn’t help but smile fondly at both the crown and Jisung. “Ah, you’ve gotten a lot better, Ji.”

You were just moving a few of the buds aside to inspect his improved weave pattern when he spoke up again.

“Are you going to put it on or give me a grade on my clover crown weaving?” He pouted at you.

“Sorry, sorry,” you apologized, placing the crown atop your head. “There. Happy?”

He sighed melodramatically. “I suppose...”

“You want your own?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Hush and watch the movie, I’ll make you one.”

At the end of the movie, you were satisfied with the fact that all of your friends had ended up staying with you this time. After holding out the convenience store bag for everyone to throw their trash into, you momentarily left the group to throw that bag out in a large campus trash can. The others stayed back to pack up all the blankets and such.

You weren’t alone for long, as Donghyuck sidled up next to you and fell into step with you.

“Great Pan, you’re practically betrothed!” He sighed, putting a hand on his chest.

You gave him an unamused look, but didn’t reply, continuing your route through the mass of other students.

“Y/N, seriously,” he sighed, leaning against the wall by the can as you tossed the bag in the trash. “What’s this whole song and dance about? How can we be more obvious? You two like each other. Do you need to hear him say it? Will that finally convince you?”

You opened your mouth, about to just blurt it out, finally end this whole stupid charade, be done with it, with everything. But Donghyuck was still. Talking.

“I mean, I thought I’d had my fill of playing matchmaker for the oblivious and hopeless on spring break—” He laughed to himself, seemingly remembering something funny, which you had no clue what on earth he was talking about. “—but you two are really something else.”

Setting your jaw, you spun on your heel and walked away, leaving him to scramble his way through the crowd to catch up with you.

“Hey! Y/N! Wait! Was it something I said?”

Knocking on the door of Jisung and Chenle’s apartment, you bounced from heel to toe as you waited for your boyfriend to answer the door. Usually, you two didn’t hang out at his place unless he knew Chenle was going to be out all day, or for several days. It was just a lot easier to relax at your apartment with no roommates. But he’d texted asking you to meet him ASAP, so you’d yanked your shoes on and hurried over.

You heard the familiar sounds of the door unlocking, then it was swung open. Except Jisung wasn’t on the other side.

“Y/N.” Chenle greeted you with a curt nod, not seeming very surprised that you were there. Well, they did have a rather robust security system thanks to His Highness here in front of you, so he had probably checked the front door camera before answering it.

“Oh hey, Chenle.” You smiled at the fairy as he stepped back to let you in, and followed him further in towards the living room. Looking around, you couldn’t spot your boyfriend. In fact, in the back of your mind, you realized that a pair of his sneakers were missing by the front door. “Where’s Ji?”

“Grocery run.”

Weird. His text made it sound like an emergency, or at least extremely important. To text you to meet him ASAP and then just go to the grocery store... Maybe he had gotten a new game in and just wanted to show you immediately, then realized he was out of snacks. That definitely sounded like Jisung. Deciding that it was probably something like that, you looked back to his roommate, a little sheepish, “Uh, do you mind if I wait for him, then? He texted me to meet him here.”

“No, he didn’t. I did from his phone, right before I asked him to go get me some cough drops for my sore throat that I don’t have.” Chenle admitted freely, perching on the arm of a leather armchair and focusing an unreadable expression on you.

“I see.” You nodded, leaning against the couch opposite the room from him. “So, what did you want to talk to me about that you had to use such methods to do so?”

“Y/N. We both know that Jisung is stupid.”

“Woah, tell me how you really feel, Chenle,” you chuckled, trying to keep your voice light.

“And you’re not.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“So, at this point, either you’re being intentionally obtuse, or you’re stringing Jisung along. And I’m not going to sit back and let anyone do that to him.”

Your eyes widened at the hard edge Chenle’s tone had taken, and the faint lime green glow emanating off of him. “Uh—”

“Jaemin and Donghyuck are always talking about being in tune with nature, sensing humans, knowing what’s in a human’s heart. They’re into all that crap. I know humans. You’re more like fae than you like to think.” He was practically spitting his words out now, unable to sit still, pacing the floor in front of the armchair. Slowing to a stop again, he pivoted on his heel to set his sharp eyes back on you—except they weren’t his usual dark brown, they were an electric, glowing, burning neon green. “So you’re going to either actually make the first move on that moron, or reject him. Today.”

Oh the jig was so up. Just as you were about to figuratively spill your guts—in order to keep from having them literally spilled for you—the click of the front door shutting echoed through the apartment. You didn’t dare take your eyes off the fairy in front of you, though.

“Chenle, stop it.” Jisung sighed from behind you, and you did finally snap your head around when you heard his voice, relief flooding your being when you saw your boyfriend.

Chenle’s eyes immediately flickered back to a chocolate brown, all glow gone, and he offered a placid smile to the dragon. “Oh, Jisung. Quick grocery trip. And you didn’t even get my lozenges.”

“I was all the way at the store when I realized I forgot my wallet,” the dragon deadpanned, clearly not believing his roommate’s act, which the fairy was well aware of. He made his way over to you and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “Leave her alone, Chenle. She’s not deceiving me.”

“We’re kind of deceiving all of you.” You confessed to the fairy, bracing yourself for what was to come.

“Yeah, we’ve uh, we’ve been dating for two months,” Jisung confirmed with a nod.

“You… what?” Chenle’s jaw dropped, genuine disbelief on his face this time.

You added, “We wanted to see how long it would take you guys to notice.”

“And see how far you’d take your meddling. I’m honestly surprised it took this long to escalate to threats from you, Chenle. But I was expecting them to be aimed at me, not Y/N. Something along the lines of ‘actually ask her out or I’ll hex you,’ not this.” Jisung then looked at you, features turning concerned and voice softer. “I’m sorry, by the way, if I thought this was even a remote possibility, I would have called this off sooner. Are you okay?”

“I know, Jisung, I know you would’ve. I’m fine, I promise,” you reassured him quietly, tilting your head closer as he pressed a quick peck to your temple.

Chenle didn’t seem to be paying you two much attention anymore, stumbling towards the other end of the couch that you and Jisung were standing at. “You not only played a trick without me, but you played it on me?”

He dramatically clutched at his chest like he’d been stabbed. “You caused mischief and strife without me? Wreaked havoc and I was none the wiser? Pulled the wool over my eyes?”

He finally sat down on the couch, falling back against the plush cushions as if he were going to perish at any second, throwing a hand over his face for good measure.

“Is he okay?” You leaned over to ask Jisung quietly.

“He’ll probably continue these theatrics for another five to ten minutes, then we can have a real conversation,” Jisung informed you.

“I heard all of that!” Chenle pointed an accusatory finger at you two.

“Chenle, how about we make it up to you?” You offered.

Your boyfriend looked at you with wide eyes, making a slicing motion over his neck with one hand, clearly signaling you to back off of doing that. You were well aware that making any kind of deal with a fairy was a bad idea, especially one that would put you in their debt.

The fairy didn’t move, instead letting out a fake sob.

“Help us play one last trick on the rest of the guys. A grand finale.”

Jisung squinted at you, clearly having no clue what the hell you were talking about. Which was fair, because you had just come up with it on the spot.

Chenle shot up into a sitting position, looking alive and well now. He laced his hands together over his lap. “Do tell.”

“I do have to say Jisung, you chose well. She’s practically a fairy,” Chenle declared, patting his roommate on the shoulder. The three of you were hiding behind a building on your college’s campus, peeking around at the main courtyard to spy on Mark, Donghyuck, and Renjun standing and having a conversation.

“I hate this.” Jisung huffed, crossing his arms.

You rubbed his other shoulder with a concerned frown, “We don’t have to do it if you really don’t like it, Sungie.”

“No, I mean you two getting along. I know the prank is fake.”

“Aw, afraid that I’m going to replace you with her as my partner in crime, Jisung?” Chenle teased. “Don’t worry, I think I’ve just found another accomplice. We’ll be a trio instead of a duo.”

The fairy’s eyes seemed to glitter at the prospect, and not just with the usual amount of magic that was in them.

“You are not roping Y/N in, too,” Jisung insisted.

“I don’t know, Sungie. Kinda sounds fun.” You shrugged, always hearing the two of them recount their misadventures together—or witnessing the odd one here or there—but never having the opportunity to join them properly before.

“See?” Chenle grinned smugly.

Jisung huffed again, this time a puff of smoke coming out of his nose. “Like I said. I hate this.”

“Anyway, there they are. You go in first, Jisung.” Chenle had finally spotted your last two targets, Jeno and Jaemin, joining the others.

“See you in a second, Sungie.” You gave him a final double thumbs up for encouragement before he took off towards them.

After a beat of silence, Chenle suddenly proclaimed, “I like you for Jisung.”

“Uh, thanks, Mr. Park, I have to say, you look great for your age.” You joked, arching a bemused eyebrow at your friend.

“That would be funny if either I or Jisung were human,” he replied humorously. “But I’m being serious. You know how Jisung and I met, right?”

“Yes, I do.” You nodded solemnly.

Chenle had found Jisung on the outskirts of his kingdom back home, a little dragon curled up all alone under a bush in a rainstorm, no other dragons in sight. At the time, Chenle himself was only a boy as well. Jisung didn’t talk much about his life before Chenle, and you didn’t know if he could even remember a lot, if anything, about it. The two of them were pretty much brothers; you knew what it meant for Chenle to say that to you.

“Thank you, Your Highness.” Your words could have been joking, or even an insult, but you hoped he could hear the sincerity in your voice as you bumped your shoulder with his. The fairy nodded, and bumped you back.

“Anyway, you think it’s been enough time?” Chenle craned his neck to peer around the corner again.

“Probably.”

“Alright, showtime,” Chenle held his hand out for you, and you grabbed it.

The two of you emerged from around the corner hand-in-hand, striking up a nonsense conversation about Chenle’s latest assignment in one of his classes. You pretended like you just happened to spot the cluster of all of your friends, delight, surprise, and recognition coming to your features as you lifted your other hand to wave to them. You watched as all their jaws dropped in unison—minus Jisung’s—and they started looking around at each other. You and Chenle walked right up to them, and you offered all of them a bright smile.

“Hey guys!” You greeted them cheerily.

“Chenle this has got to be the lowest you’ve ever gone,” Donghyuck shook his head in disgust, completely ignoring your hello.

“Yeah man, Jisung’s your best friend,” Mark scoffed.

“You raised him!” Jaemin wrapped an arm around Jisung’s shoulders.

“You fed him from your hand!” Jeno stepped in front of Jisung protectively.

“Just because you’re some high and mighty fairy prince or whatever where you’re from doesn’t mean you can treat people like they’re disposable,” Renjun crossed his arms. “Here you’re just some guy like everybody else.”

“Woah!” You let go of Chenle’s hand to step in front of him with your hands up. “Guys, that’s enough!”

“I bet Y/N’s not even in control of what she’s doing,” Renjun entirely ignored you. “He’s probably got her under some fairy spell or something.”

“What the fuck?” Chenle cried out, offended.

“Yeah!” Jaemin nodded firmly. “Because she’s totally into Jisung, I know she is. I know her heart!”

“Guys!” You yelled again for their attention.

“Don’t worry, Jisungie, we’re going to get her out from under that spell,” Jaemin cooed, stroking Jisung’s face as he currently had what was practically a chokehold on the dragon that definitely looked less than comforting.

“Jeno, grab her!” Mark ordered, and the werewolf immediately started advancing on you.

“Oh my god stop it, guys! Stop! I’m not under a spell! Chenle and I aren’t dating! Jisung and I are! We’ve been dating for like two months and we pretended not to because we wanted to see how long it would take you to notice!” You yelled out, squeezing your eyes shut to brace yourself.

But there were no super strong werewolf arms grabbing you. Instead, it was silence that became one chuckle, then a giggle, then two giggles, then you were surrounded by raucous laughter. You cautiously opened your eyes to see all your friends doubled over with laughter around you, clutching their stomachs and holding onto each other for support. You and Jisung were the only ones standing up straight, immediately realizing what was going on when you made eye contact.

“Seems we’ve been made, Sungie,” you deadpanned, wading through the sea of cackling bodies until you got to your boyfriend.

“It appears so…” He sighed, looping an arm over your shoulders, and you wrapped an arm around his waist.

As they all sobered up, a few were quite literally wiping tears from their eyes, others fanning themselves, and some still clutching their sides.

“How?” You looked around, then saw a very familiar, exceptionally devilish grin. “Chenle?”

“What better trick is there to play than being a double agent?” The fairy confirmed.

“Oh, you suck,” Jisung glared at him.

“You guys tricked us first. It was much more satisfying to get one over on you than to keep making the idiots look like idiots.”

“Hey!” Donghyuck cried out indignantly.

Chenle caught your eye to say, “I do mean what I said, Y/N.”

You nodded in understanding. “Thanks, Chenle.”

“Alright, I think we all learned some very important lessons,” Mark announced, getting everyone in a disjointed huddle. “Like…”

“Don’t be so nosy,” Jeno started off genuinely.

“Make sure the people you’re setting up aren’t already dating, or they might make you look like idiots,” Renjun added.

“Double check human emotions with a unicorn if you’re having doubts,” Jaemin sighed wistfully.

“Never go out to eat with Y/N and Jisung. Especially if there’s fries involved,” Donghyuck shivered, and you rolled your eyes. He was seriously never going to let that go.

“I’ve got two partners in crime now, so everybody else needs to sleep with their third eye open.” Chenle grinned.

“That I’m never getting into a prank war with any of you people again. This was too stressful, school’s bad enough,” you groaned with a shake of your head.

“Chenle’s an asshole,” Jisung hissed at his roommate.

“I think Jisung needs to do his over, he already knew that about me,” Chenle drawled with a facetious whine.

“Fine. Chenle’s an asshole who needs to understand that if he threatens my girlfriend again, he’s going to get burned to crisp.”

The fairy shrugged, “I’ll take it.”

“Great, you guys.” Mark beamed at you all proudly.

“What about you, Mark? What’d you learn?” Donghyuck prompted him teasingly.

“That Y/N and Jisung are dating. Duh.”

“Right. Yeah, yeah.” There were murmurs of agreement from the gaggle of creatures around you.

“So, truce?” You offered a hand out in the middle of the huddle to nobody in particular.

All six of them grabbed your hand at once and shook it. “Truce!”

“So…” Donghyuck fluttered his eyelashes at you. “How’d it happen? What’s the story?”

You scoffed, “No.”

“What? You lead us on for two months and now you won’t even tell us how you got together?”

“It’s not some big dramatic thing, sorry,” Jisung admitted. “Just kind of finally happened.”

“What do you mean ‘finally happened?’ Like, how did it ‘finally happen?’”

You exchanged a look with Jisung. With an eye roll, you indulged the dryad a little. “We were hanging out at the park one day and just sort of... I don’t know! Confessed! Got together! Whatever you want to call it!”

“Lame.” Renjun yawned. “Call me when you two get married.”

Jisung started forward in surprise. “Wh—”

“Because there hasn’t been a recorded human-dragon marriage, Sungie.” You patted your boyfriend on the chest reassuringly. “He’s just being an MCS major.”

“Oh. Right.”

The human abruptly gasped. “Wait! Can I write my final paper for Dr. Kwon’s class on you two?”

“Hell no.”

A few weeks later, and you were reclined against Jisung’s headboard, waiting for him to get back from the kitchen with snacks. You two were playing a new two-player game Jisung had gotten, and as soon as you had showed up, Chenle loudly announced his intention to go hangout at Jeno and Jaemin’s and very probably sleep over too, since they also planned on gaming until very late. You figured your friends’ “matchmaking” behavior would stop once they knew that you and Jisung were together, but apparently not.

At the reappearance of your boyfriend in the doorway, juggling several different containers, you set your phone aside. He managed to put them all down on his nightstand without dropping them. You scooted forward and re-fluffed the pillows behind you to make room for him and his wings.

Jisung’s wings weren’t out frequently—you yourself had only seen them a handful of times in the couple years that you’d known him. Dragons either had to be entirely shirtless or wear specially cut shirts in order to have them out comfortably. Most stores didn’t carry shirts in a style that allowed for dragon wings, allegedly since there were so few dragons it ��wasn’t profitable” to make them. So dragons were then forced to make their own, have their clothes altered, or order from online specialty shops. Jisung usually just didn’t bother with it, as he claimed it was more of a pain to get the shirts than it was to just keep his wings away. But you and Chenle had started a master plan of slowly sneaking the dragon cut shirts into Jisung’s wardrobe until it was 50/50. You two also had a bet going of how long until Jisung grew suspicious of the rising number of shirts. So far, both of you were still in the running at two weeks.

Tonight, it seemed Jisung had found one of the new dragon cut shirts, just a simple black tank top from the front, but the back was cut into two side panels and a middle section that draped open to allow plenty of space for his midnight blue wings to rest behind him.

Except Jisung didn’t scoot on the bed behind you like you expected. He just kept standing next to it, looking at you, one hand fidgeting with the gold chains around his neck.

“Sungie?” You said his name quietly. “You alright?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he shook his head as if to shake himself from a trance, though that same pensive look didn’t leave his face. “Sorry, just thinking.”

“What about?”

“Y/N, I want you to have this.” He grabbed one of the necklaces by the chain and took it off. With no hesitation, he reached forward and put it around your own neck. Your breath hitched in your throat as you watched his every move, and the intense look on his face as he did so.

The necklace was beautiful, an immaculately kept dazzling gold chain of medium thickness, and hanging from it, a simple, shining gold sun pendant, about the size of your thumbnail. The metal was warm from already touching Jisung, and sat heavy against your skin.

“Y-You’re giving me this?” You held the sun with delicate fingers, as if afraid it would actually burn you, looking up at him in shock.

“Yeah. I don’t know, it just... makes me happy seeing you wear it.” He said, sounding almost confused at his own actions.

Letting you borrow a hoodie was one thing—a big thing, but still, only a hoodie. Giving you a piece of jewelry that he was wearing—part of his hoard—you didn’t know how to compute this. Jisung wasn’t around a lot of dragons for most of his life, so you knew that the exact cultural significance of the action wasn’t there. But that significance came from dragons’ instinctual hoarding nature, which was still ingrained in him. For it to make him happier to see you wearing a piece of his hoard than to keep it for himself… you really thought your heart might explode.

“Y/N?” Jisung lightly touched your arm, worry coloring his tone. “D-Do you not like it?”

“No! No, Sungie. I love it, thank you,” you beamed at him genuinely. You caressed his cheek with the backs of your fingers, eyes going a little misty as you looked up from the glinting gold of the necklace to the midnight blue eyes of your dragon. You were happy, so happy that if you didn’t say something, do something, it felt like you really might burst.

You turned your hand over to cup his cheek, pulling him closer and pressing your lips to his. He made a small noise, and suddenly dropped down to sit on the bed with you. Jisung kissed you back just as ardently, one hand trailing down from the back of your neck to your collarbone then below the hollow of your throat, tracing the path of the jewelry along your skin.

When you had to pull back from the kiss for air, you shifted back fully to look him in the eye, still cradling his face. You inhaled, “I—”

“Wait!”

You stopped mid-sentence at Jisung’s outburst, snapping your mouth shut and looking at him with big, confused eyes.

“Sorry, uhm, I know what you were about to say, and I also know that I’ve been weird whenever you or Renjun brought up your Interspecies Marriage class.” Jisung seemed to notice how your expression became more and more alarmed as he spoke, and he grabbed your hand that had frozen on his face, holding it with both of his. He rubbed soothing circles into the back of your hand as he continued, “I don’t want you to think that I’m not serious about you, because I am. N-not marriage or anything like that right now. But I’m serious about this, about you. I am. So I just, I wanted to say it first.”

“Okay.” You let out a breath of relief and smiled at him encouragingly.

Jisung just kept gazing at you, mouth slightly parted, thumb rubbing circles into your hand. The only indication that time hadn’t literally frozen was the slight shift of his wings adjusting behind him, and when he eventually blinked.

Finally, you couldn’t take the silence anymore.

“Jisung?” You said his name, wetting your lips awkwardly. “Like, you wanted to say it now, or not yet?”

“Sorry, yeah, no, now.” He reassured you, taking a deep breath. His eyes still seemed to be drinking you in, though, gaze lingering on the sun hanging from your neck. “You’re just so beautiful… It really does make me so happy to see you wearing that. More than happy, I don’t know how to describe it, but—”

Then suddenly you were on your back, and all you could see was Jisung and midnight blue with flashes of gold. A surprised giggle came out of your mouth as Jisung nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck. You felt a hot puff of air wash over your skin, and you reveled in the comforting, smoky smell surrounding you.

“But now I think I understand all those fairytales where the dragon keeps the princess in their tower and never lets her go.”

You stroked the back of his head, running your hand down his neck and shoulders, stopping just above where his wings start, then back up to weave your fingers in his hair. With a content sigh, you said softly, “I love you, too.”

Your dragon pushed himself up to hover above you so you could see his disgruntled pout. “I wanted to say it first.”

“I think you just did.” You laughed giddily.

“Well... still, I love you.” Jisung brushed his nose with yours for a tender moment before slotting his mouth with yours in a searing kiss. You truly felt like you could never get used to kissing Jisung, a child of the Sun, someone with the very heart of a mountain inside him. In between kisses, he murmured seemingly absentmindedly, “My princess...”

You smiled against his lips, indulging in one, two more sweltering kisses before you mumbled back, “My dragon.”

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