#and I haven’t even read the first part yet

[di-42]

A bit late this time, sorry! 

Almost all I had the time to read in December was the Scribbling Vaguely Downwards Advent Calendar collection. I’m late in catching up with one of the wonderful WIPs below, and I’m criminally late in catching up with the long fiction I’m reading, but it is what it is.

As always I’ll try to tag all the writers and artists whose tumblr username I know, so they know how loved and appreciated they are. If you know the username of someone I haven’t tagged please tag them. If you are on this list and would rather not, please let me know and I'll take you and your work off the list immediately. If you enjoy my lists and want to be tagged when I post them, give me a shout!

Last but not least, I wish you all a wonderful 2025, filled with friendship, creativity, discovery, awe and love for all things big and small, even Brother Snail.

Without further ado, let me tell you what I loved about

December’s Delightful Fictions

WIPs:

Wavelengths & Frequencies, by @shadesofecclescakes and imposterssyndrome @maaikeatthefullmoon Rated E, chapters 16/?

This story is such a warm, cozy, comfort blanket. Enemies-to-lovers human AU where Aziraphale and Crowley work as DJ for the same media corporation. They have a history, but we don't know what it is at the beginning. Great story, great humour, great characterisation, great fuzzies, absolutely great banter! I look forward to every update and do a little joyful dance every time I get an update notification. This fiction is becoming one of my all time favourites.

You're The Bad Guys, by Nebz_AlphaCentauri @alphacentaurinebula Rated E, chapters 23/26?

Cold war human AU in which Aziraphale is an MI6 agent and Crowley is a KGB agent. Each of them is assigned to a mission in Berlin, from opposite sides of course. Great characterisation, suspense and references to canon.

Scribbling Vaguely Downwards Advent Calendar:

A lovely collection of winter and Christmas themed one shots, short stories and artworks, to which I’ve been lucky enough to take part. I invite you to go through the whole collection, as each piece is a little gem. I have read all but two of the stories, which will be in my January list.

My own piece for the collection, Only Ever Meant For Someone Else, rated T, 9k.

Every year, the night before Christmas, taxi driver Aziraphale drives passengers to and from the hospital for charity. On the Christmas morning of 2023 he was ready to go home and rest with a cup of tea, a mince pie, and a book after a long night.

Guess who?

This my very first attempt at human AU, and it was great fun to write it without being bound by anything canon. It gave me a chance to play with some feelings and characterisations that I just don’t see in canon, but I like in fiction. I tried to throw in the mix a bit of humour, a tiny bit of short lived angst and, of course a happy ending!

Naked And Afraid: Jingle Hell by @klikandtuna, rated T, 24k.

Human AU. A fictional transcription of an episode of reality show Naked And Afraid. Yes, Naked And Afraid is a real show, and no, you don’t need to have watched it to enjoy this sweet, funny, from strangers-to-lovers fiction. Lighthearted and yet tense, great characterisation, banter, will-they-won’t-they, humour, this fiction has it all! I absolutely loved it. Honestly, you don’t know me, but trust me: if I speak enthusiastically about a fiction based on a survival show, it must be that good.

Nooooo Mooooore Touching My Angel by Adara83, 2k.

Post second coming story where angels and demons have meetings and get-togethers. At the latest Christmas meeting Crowley and Aziraphale got very protective of each other. Very sweet story.

Something On The Wind (Or Jingle Chimes) by Aspiring_Eccentric, 5k.

I loved this human AU! Crowley has been driven mad by the new neighbour’s wind chimes. I don’t think I need to tell you who the new neighbour is. Humour, fluff, flirting and spot on characterisation, this fiction was a real Christmas treat!

An Ineffable Christmas Carol by Aikosakura, artwork.

1800s Crowley and Aziraphale take a Christmas eve stroll.

A Christmas Miracle by IneffableChocolateCheeseCake and Ngk @ngk-668rated E, 4k.

A sweet, hot, and funny in-canon story where supreme archangel Gabriel grants all the angels a free miracle to use for personal purposes one Christmas day. Guess how Aziraphale chooses to use his? Words by Ngk and art by IneffableChocolateCheeseCake. Lovely, lovely story!

My Angel, My Light by icegirl99, rated T, 2k.

Aziraphale drags Crowley to be the elf to his Santa one Christmas eve. Gentle and fluffy. 

They Are The Magi by LyricalKris, rated T, 8k.

Lovely human AU where Aziraphale and Crowley meet at a book club and end up meaning the world to each other.

Winter’s Rages by miladyshakespeare, rated G, 427 words.

A storm is raging in 1719. Any more than that would mean spoiling the story, but honestly, it’s astounding that so much goodness and so much subtle humour is contained in such a short story. Artful and clever, I truly loved it!

Reindeer Mistletoe by Yvesriba, rated G, artwork.

Those reindeer antlers couldn't have been in a better place!

The Soho Route by Caedmon @caedmonfaith , rated G, 11k.

Human AU where Crowley is a delivery man who’s taken a shine to the lovely bookseller he delivers parcels to. If only the bookseller was interested in him. A sweet story featuring an oblivious Crowley and an undeterred Aziraphale.

It’s A Wonderful Film by Heretic1103, rated T, 2k.

Post canon Cgristmas eve, filled with fluff and domestic bliss. Lovely.

Do You Remember The Roses? (The Snow Queen Retold With Good Omens Characters) by Augenblickgotter, rated G, 13k.

Lovely retelling of the Andersen’s tale.

Furfur, A Red-Nosed Reindeer by @ineffablechocolatecheesecake, rated T, artwork.

Great artwork featuring Crowley and Aziraphale doing what they should be doing all the time! But poor Furfur!

The Perfect Christmas by HumoringHolly, rated M, 13k.

Post canon story set a few years in the future. Aziraphale and Crowley host a Christmas party and invite Adam and Warlock. They hit it off in the best possible way! 

A Light In The Darkness by PinkPenguinParade, rated G, 561 words.

Lovely, warm post canon scene.

A Little Peek by Dukeofnone, rated, artwork.

The sweetest Crowley and Aziraphale peek from the boxes of an advent calendar. I loved this artwork!

Hissy Fit by @dragonfire42, rated T, 6k.

Inspired by Gleafer’s art this story is hilarious, delightful, heartwarming, and wonderfully written. Great characterisation and banter and strong Aziraphale, to which I may or may not be partial to. Crowley is shedding, enough said. I laughed all the way through.

Mnemosyne’s Feast by ravendiana, rated G, 1k.

Canon-divergent story where the final fifteen never happened. Crowley doesn’t trust himself with words, so he attempts to communicate his feelings to Aziraphale through memories awoken by food. This story was really touching and heartwarming, I loved it so much!

Radiant by CaelumCalamitas, rated G, 4k.

Lovely South Down cottage story with an incredibly warm and touching ending.

Eyes On Me by AVoiceBehindTheStars, rated G, artwork.

Aziraphale is teaching Crowley to ice skate. Beautiful piece framing a lovely moment in the existences of the husbands.

The Angel Tree by GoodInspirationsAD, rated T, 8k.

Post season 2 fiction with a lovely happy ending. Aziraphale is in heaven and Crowley, as heartbroken as he is, replaces him in making sure the London Hospital Angel Tree initiative has presents for all the patients. Meanwhile, Aziraphale worries that, with him in heaven, some patients will be left with no gifts, so he has to go down to earth and fulfill the patients’ wishes. Hurt, comfort, communication, intimacy, South Down cottage, AND Cgristmas all in one fiction, what more do you want?

All My Own In A Big Red Bow by @supergeek21, rated E, 2k.

Present wrapping frustration, present unwrapping heat. Sexy and tender at the same time.

Tom Bawcock’s Eve by Snowfilly1, rated T, 2k.

I loved this story about human resilience and bravery. A long time ago, Crowley and Aziraphale went to a village in Cornwall and helped the villagers fight against a storm.

Holy Infant, So Tender And Mild by Caedmon, rated G, 3k.

Jesus has been born and an angel and a demon keep him entertained while Mary rests.

Geminids by astral_gravy, not rated, artwork.

I absolutely love this amazing piece showing our favourite angel and demon in the midst of a meteor shower! Beautiful!

Boxing Day by Starshadow667, not rated, 1.7k.

Crowley and Aziraphale go ice skating with their children.

Stargazer by Raechem, rated G, 2k.

Oh, I loved this story, I truly did. So gentle, and touching, and deep. Set at some point in the past, OC’s POV. OC helps a snake she finds in her garden that had been caught in some rope. The snake comes to visit her again, and an owl comes looking for the snake. I don’t want to spoil it and won’t say anything else, but please show some love to this gem of a fiction.

Dec 31- Happy New Year! by Miele_Petite, rated G, artwork.

Biblical Crowley and Aziraphale with a night sky background. Beautiful!

November's list here.

[svt-luna]

HAPPY NEW YEAR, MY LOVES 🥳🎉🎊

as we step into 2025, i want to take a moment to reflect on the incredible journey we’ve shared since i started this blog back in august of 2024. it feels like just yesterday when i was nervously writing my first post about Luna and Jeonghan, not knowing if anyone would read my impulsive and bored ideas. and now, here we are— 2,639 of you beautiful souls, united by our love for this story. i am endlessly grateful for every single one of you!!

2,639?!!? TWO THOUSAND SIX HUNDRED THRITY-NINE?!?!?

i still haven’t wrapped my head around that fact. i love you. i am grateful for you. i appreciate you. i adore you.

in just a few short months, this blog has become something beyond my wildest dreams. it’s not just about the numbers or how fast we’ve grown (though WOW, it’s humbling); it’s about the connections we’ve built. through this blog, i’ve had the privilege of meeting so many wonderful people.

you’ve trusted me with your stories— about your struggles, your triumphs, and your lives. your bravery and openness have been such a gift. to those who’ve shared with me, you already know who you are: thank you from the bottom of my heart for trusting me. and to those i haven’t spoken to yet, i’m always here, ready to listen, ready to celebrate your triumphs, struggles, and stories no matter how big or small those are!

to my lovely anonymous messengers— though i don’t know your names, i see you. i see your kind words, your unwavering support, and the love you pour into this little corner of the internet. thank you for being a part of this journey, even from the shadows.

but as with every story, there have been challenges. there were moments when people doubted me, spoke down to me, bullied me, and tried to drag me down because of this blog— they still do. those times were hard. there were days when i questioned whether i should keep going. but then i would see your messages, your love, and your support, and suddenly, the weight didn’t feel so heavy anymore.

you kept me grounded. you kept me going. you reminded me why i started this in the first place. for that, i will always be thankful.

despite the challenges, 2024 was an unforgettable year filled with stories about favorite our bunny couple, Jeonghan and Luna. you laughed with them, cried with them, and fell in love with them over and over again. and let me promise you this— 2025 is going to be even better. i have so many exciting stories planned, and i cannot wait to share every single one with you.

so, here’s to the stories we’ve shared, the ones we’re about to write, and the community we’ve built together. thank you for making this blog a place where love, creativity, and connection thrive.

i couldn’t have done it without you, my lovelies!!

wishing you all a year filled with love, laughter, and endless inspiration 🩷🩷🩷

With all my love,

sel 🌙

[aishangotome]

Azel Radwan: Dramatic Ending Ch. 24

Dramatic Ending Ch. 23 Letter

Thank you @passthechloroform for providing the video for this chapter!

♡———♡

With the end approaching, if I remained in Tanzanite, I would only hold Azel back.

I had braced myself for the bitterness, swallowed the pain, and initiated the farewell, yet Azel continued to grasp my hand without any intention of letting go.

Emma: …Is there something else you want to say?

Azel: ………… No.

Azel: .....

Azel: Yes, there is something I want to say.

His voice was firm, devoid of hesitation, as if he had resolved his worries and conflicts.

Azel: You are a kind-hearted person. Aren’t you worried about the 10,000 believers the apostle mentioned earlier?

(I can’t believe he brought that up.)

Emma: I am worried, but seeing how Prince Azel is acting, I thought maybe you had already taken measures.

Azel: Why?

Emma: Because you dislike the apostle, right?

Emma: You’re not generous enough to let someone you dislike have their way.

Emma: Either the matter has already been settled, or you’re going to settle it now…

Emma: Either way, I believe the helping hand of God will reach out.

(Before, Azel gave the maids who gave me the aphrodisiac nightmares.)

(While you have a compassionate side, you’re merciless to those you recognize as enemies.)

Azel: …It’s rather irritating when you're spot on.

Emma: I’d like you to praise my understanding of you, Prince Azel.

Azel: Would you please not get carried away?

Frowning, Azel tightened his grip on my hand.

Each time his strong will to "not let go" was conveyed, my heartbeat quickened excitedly.

Azel: There’s something I’d like you to help me with.

Azel: You, with your kind heart, can’t leave people in crisis alone, can you?

Azel: If you’re so desperate to save those 10,000 people, you’re welcome to come with me.

Emma: …I thought Prince Azel wanted to get us out of the country.

(Even though you were blocking our attempts to meet.)

Azel: I changed my mind, that’s all.

Azel turned away.

Azel: You seem to think you have value as a hostage, but you don’t.

Azel: But if we part ways like this, it’ll look like I’m worried about you being taken hostage, won’t it?

Azel: If I’m going to be misunderstood like that, I’d rather have your help, even if it’s annoying.

Azel: In the first place, I only kicked you out of the temple. It was Enis who urged you to return home.

Azel: Don’t get that wrong.

Emma: …So, in other words…

Emma: …You’re saying, “Don’t misunderstand, you idiot”?

Azel: Yes, that’s right. You’re an idiot––

Akatsuki: Oh?

Azel: …No, that’s not right.

(I actually understand.)

(…You probably just want to spend a little more time together.)

When Azel speaks rapidly, it’s when he wants to hide his true feelings, and when that happens, his eyes always fail to meet mine.

(If only the apostle’s problem is solved, I can still stay in Tanzanite.)

(I might be able to see Azel's wish through to the end.)

Squeezing his hand back, sadness outweighed joy, and pain surpassed happiness at his offer.

Emma: I want to stay with you too.

Azel: It’s not “too.”

Emma: Oh, come on. I haven’t spent time with Prince Azel for nothing.

Emma: I’ve become better at reading your thoughts compared to before.

Azel: .....

(But that’s why my heart aches so much…)

If we were going to spend time together anyway, I wanted to keep smiling until the end.

Emma: So the time has finally come to show off the swordsmanship the princes of Rhodolite taught me. I’ll do my best.

Azel: It hasn’t. That kind of muscle-brained solution isn’t my forte.

Emma: …Owner, is that alright?

The Owner, who had been silently watching us, quietly exhaled and nodded.

Akatsuki: It’s been a while since I’ve cut someone down.

Azel: No, I mean, were you even listening to me?

(Surely, the longer we spend together, the harder it will be to say goodbye in the end.)

(I know, but… I want to spend time without regrets.)

(Especially since Azel himself wished for it.)

Azel: Listen, you two. Resolving things with violence is what third-rate people do.

Emma: Then how are you going to save them?

Azel: That’s obvious.

His mystical eyes narrowed slightly, and a compassionate smile blended with the moonlight.

Azel: Allow me to show you what a nightmare shown by God looks like.

-

The place Azel headed to, avoiding the public eye, was the castle.

Emma: …This is strange.

Azel: It’s quiet, isn’t it?

(When the Owner and I left the castle, it should have been in chaos.)

There was no one around, and the eerily silent corridor was different from the scenery I knew.

Emma: Did Prince Azel clear everyone out?

Azel: No way. They deliberately moved aside so I could walk easily.

I knew who “they” were without having to ask.

(Azel said he had already taken measures, but this looks like he’s walking into a trap.)

(The apostle must have anticipated that you wouldn’t abandon the people… Perhaps it’s a battle of who can outsmart the other.)

God leisurely proceeded to the back of the castle and stood before a lavish room.

Without him doing anything, the door opened from the inside––

Woman: Oh, the Living God… It’s the Living God!

Man: You really came, Living God!

(This is…)

The sacred throne room was overflowing with people, so much so that it was suffocating.

Cheers erupted at Azel's appearance, the air and my eardrums vibrating violently.

(These must be the believers the apostle was talking about.)

The eerie silence was swallowed by the enthusiastic clamor, and Azel was instantly surrounded by people.

(…I-I can’t even move forward properly.)

Azel: Emma, don’t forget that the moment you leave my side, you’ll become prey to the crowd.

Emma: Then I’ll take your arm without hesitation!

As I clung to his arm so as not to be separated, the door closed behind us.

(Huh? What’s this smell?)

(…A sweet smell like incense…)

*flashback*

Clavis: Do you know what this is?

Silvio: Incense, right?

Clavis: Yes. This incense itself isn’t harmful, but it has a drug applied to its surface.

Clavis: When burned in an incense burner, it causes a mild state of intoxication.

*flashback over*

Emma: …Prince Azel!

Azel: Yes, it’s best not to inhale too much.

Azel: It’s not harmful, but if you’re not careful, your thinking will become paralyzed like these people.

(Even though I expected it, to think that he urged people to die for God while they were unable to think properly…)

(The apostle’s actions are unforgivable.)

Azel continued forward, unfazed by the crowd.

When he reached a certain point, the people parted neatly to the left and right.

(...!)

A path was formed, and the sight that appeared beyond it unconditionally filled me with rage.

Azel: …This is a bit much, isn’t it, old man?

Seated on the throne, illuminated by the beautiful and divine moon, was His Majesty the King.

His limbs were bound with shackles, and his limp body was tied to the throne.

Blood flowed from his head, dripping onto the throne, and I could feel Azel trembling slightly through his arm.

Emma: …What have you done to His Majesty?

The person standing beside the throne smiled without a hint of remorse.

Apostle: Please rest assured. Enis is alive.

Apostle: I didn’t want to resort to such violence, but His Majesty was a little out of his mind.

Apostle: When the soldiers were restraining him, they had no choice but to hit him on the head.

(His Majesty said he would cause a commotion to buy me time to escape.)

(If the apostle's trap had already been set since then…)

I glared at the apostle as if to vent my frustration.

Azel: I’ve heard enough of your pathetic excuses. Old man, I went out of my way to fall into your trap. State your business.

Apostle: Living God, you have always been merciful.

Apostle: I still remember how you cried and begged for Enis and that exile, desperately trying to stop me.

(…Is he talking about that time when your brother was tortured in front of you?)

I sincerely loathed the way he deliberately brought up topics that reopened old wounds.

But Azel wasn’t as openly emotional as I was; he was calm.

–Calmly, his mystical eyes filled with a cruel color that sent chills down my spine.

Azel: Is that a childish threat that Enis will be punished if I defy you?

Apostle: No, who would allow such disrespect as to threaten the Living God?

(…How hypocritical.)

Behind the apostle were armed soldiers.

Depending on Azel's response, it wouldn’t be surprising if those weapons were turned on Enis.

Apostle: However, everyone here shares my aspirations.

Apostle: They have gathered to protect the Living God from any harm.

Apostle: And Enis feels the same way, I’m sure.

Apostle: Please allow us to protect you, so that you won’t bring about the end and face eternal death.

Azel: How will you protect me?

Apostle: We will wipe out the scoundrels who oppose God and keep you in a safe place until permanent peace returns to the city.

Apostle: To that place where death cannot reach.

Azel: ......

Apostle: However…

His clinging, gentle gaze fell upon me.

Apostle: I didn’t expect Emma to be here as well.

Apostle: If you’d like, could you accompany the Living God?

Apostle: The place I’m about to show you is safe, but it’s also dark and cold.

(Is he planning to imprison God?)

We were surrounded by people, with no escape.

And with Enis held hostage, we had no choice.

The imprisonment he proposed was insane.

Emma: …Is this what the apostle, who serves God, does?

My voice naturally lowered.

(To protect God? Don’t make me laugh.)

Emma: Apostle, you refuse to acknowledge Prince Azel true intentions.

Emma: The God of Tanzanite isn’t an idol; he’s alive and here.

Emma: And yet, isn’t this absurd?

Emma: God has granted people the blessing of a promised reality, and yet you repay him with hostility?

(It’s infuriating… In the first place, Azel should be your flesh and blood, even before he’s God.)

Apostle: It may be difficult for you to understand. But this is also for the sake of the Living God.

Emma: If you truly believe that, then first listen to the Living God’s voice!

Emma: You just take the blessings he gives you… God is not your convenient tool!

Azel: .....

Azel: It’s useless. No matter what you say to this old man, it’s useless.

Azel: You’ll only exhaust yourself one-sidedly. He doesn’t live in the same world as us.

Azel: Do you know why Tanzanite is called the Land of Illusions?

Azel: It’s also satire for those who blindly believe in God and are trapped in their own dreams.

(…It seems like Azel has given up from the start.)

(How much suffering did you have to endure to reach this state of mind?)

If this kind of unreasonable violence has continued since childhood, the current reality might be a nightmare for Azel.

(To think that death is the only way to be liberated…)

When I hugged his arm tightly, Azel chuckled softly.

Azel: You don’t have to get so angry.

Emma: …But I can’t forgive him.

Azel: Even though it’s none of your business?

Emma: Even though it’s none of my business… yes.

Azel: Then, please rage on my behalf.

Azel: I’ve grown tired of even getting angry at that old man.

Emma: …Why do you sound a little happy?

Azel: Are you blind? Someone who can find this situation happy and enjoyable is as abnormal as the apostle.

Azel turned away again.

(…I wonder if there was no one else to get angry like this.)

(Even though you’re someone who should be cherished more than anyone else…)

Azel: Old man, time is limited, so hurry up and lead the way.

Azel: I won’t run away.

-

Emma: ..........................This has to be a joke.

(Impossible.)

(It’s impossible not to get angry at this.)

Separated from the Owner, I was led by the apostle and a large group of believers to a stagnant underground space.

It seemed they intended to confine God in this place buried deep within the sand, where even moonlight couldn’t reach, and the fact that these people considered it a “good deed” as a matter of course gave me goosebumps.

Emma: In other countries, this is called a prison.

Azel: Oh, is that so? This is actually another room of mine.

Azel: I was often confined here as a child.

Azel: Not only when I ran away, but also when my divinations didn’t go well or when I made childish mistakes.

Azel: According to the old man, he confines me out of love.

Emma: .............

Azel: You can make such interesting faces.

Emma: …I had my suspicions ever since I heard your story, Prince Azel…

Emma: This is what the world calls abuse!

My voice echoed off the stone walls and spread throughout the surroundings.

Everyone here must have heard it, yet they showed no reaction whatsoever.

(This isn’t a matter of having different fundamental values.)

(It’s like faith has paralyzed their hearts.)

Apostle: Emma, it’s not like I enjoy doing this.

Apostle: …It truly pains me.

Emma: Someone who is truly pained wouldn’t be able to smile like that!

Emma: You say you understand the Living God’s suffering, and yet you’ve been… you’ve been smiling all along!

(My emotions are about to burst.)

I tried my best to calm down, but I couldn’t suppress my raging heart…

Azel hugged me from behind as I clenched my fists tightly.

Azel: That smile of his is a kind of provocation towards me.

Emma: Provocation…?

Azel: I think you’ve already noticed…

Azel: The one who believes in God the least in this country is none other than the apostle himself.

Information that should have been shocking entered my mind smoothly.

Azel: In the first place, the apostle finds me to be a nuisance.

Azel: In the era when the Living God was absent, the apostle could wield his authority as God’s representative.

Azel: If it weren’t for me, he could have become God.

Emma: …That’s a chilling story.

Azel: Yes, I think so too.

Azel: Because the real one was born, the old man had no choice but to become a servant of God…

Azel: He may still be yearning for the divine throne with lingering attachment. How pitiful.

At Azel's provocative words, the apostle’s mask-like smile distorted slightly.

Apostle: I have never once harbored such a rebellious thought.

Apostle: My loyalty to God is as you know, Living God.

Azel: Has that loyalty ever been shown to me?

Azel: No, right? You’ve never once listened to my voice.

Azel: Everything you say as God’s will is far from my true intentions.

Azel: Old man, you’re mistaken in thinking you’re “God.”

Azel: How foolish and disrespectful a misunderstanding that is… I don’t need to tell you, do I?

I noticed at some point that my breathing had become shallow.

As Azel's words grew heavier, the dimly lit prison cell transformed into a sacred place of judgment.

The people gathered here also seemed to be consumed by tension.

(Azel was supposed to be the one caught in the trap, and yet, the one now standing on the platform of judgment is…)

Azel: I am the true God. You are nothing more than an ordinary person.

Azel: And for an ordinary person to defy God is an unforgivable act.

Azel: Now, all of you ordinary people… aren’t you being a little too arrogant towards me?

The moment the cold smile of God dominated the room, the people simultaneously fell to their knees and lowered their heads so deeply that their foreheads rubbed against the ground.

Only one person – the apostle – remained standing.

The “misunderstanding” Azel spoke of was exposed in broad daylight.

Azel: Oh my, why do you defy God’s words?

Azel: You, who should be serving me and believing in me more than anyone else…

Azel, who had moved away from me, approached the apostle and placed a hand on his shoulder.

Though his strength was by no means forceful, the apostle involuntarily fell to his knees.

(…Azel could have dominated people like this all along, he just chose not to.)

*flashback*

Azel: I haven’t done anything like burning a strange incense burner and brainwashing you without your knowledge.

Azel: In the first place, people can be controlled much more easily without resorting to such underhanded tactics.

*flashback over*

(The apostle is no match for him.)

Azel: Apostle, let me ask you.

Azel: Who do the 10,000 believers you gathered worship?

Apostle: …Why, the Living God, of course.

Azel: Then, they won’t ignore my divine will. Correct?

Apostle: Yes…

Azel: You said earlier that everyone shares the same aspirations…

Azel: The wise believers must already understand my wishes.

Azel: ––That’s enough. Thank you all for your hard work.

God clapped his hands.

As if it were a cue, the people rose as if awakening from a dream.

(…Wh-What’s going on?)

I couldn’t believe that their fanaticism towards God was an illusion; they exited as if they had planned it beforehand.

The apostle’s smile vanished.

Apostle: …Why…?

Azel: Why? Because I am the God they worship.

Azel: Didn’t you think it was strange?

Azel: Why I would condone such a harmful gathering that brainwashes people.

(…Gathering…)

*flashback*

Azel: ––…Is it that gathering again?

Kumushu: Yes, invitations have already been widely distributed. Moreover, it’s close to the date. This is troubling.

Azel: Unfortunately, I’ll have to remain a bystander this time.

Azel: However, please contact Shinan. There will likely be a considerable number of victims.

*flashback over*

(If the story I heard back then was referring to the apostle’s gathering…)

(Azel knew about it all along and had taken some measures.)

(Shinan is a doctor, so maybe––)

Azel: The answer is simple – to show you a terrible nightmare.

It was the most compassionate and gentle divine smile I had ever seen.

Azel: It was quite a task to catch the participants every time and detoxify their minds.

Azel: To protect Tanzanite’s faith, you sent invitations mainly to “those who were beginning to awaken from faith.”

Azel: The fact that the majority of Tanzanite’s people blindly believe in God is largely due to your efforts.

Azel: Using incense to brainwash and turn people into fanatics is your old trick.

Azel: So, I imitated it.

Apostle: …Imitated?

Azel: Yes. I had a doctor remove the effects of the drug you physically gave them…

Azel: …And I conveyed my true divine will to them.

Azel: On top of that, I had them continue to act as fanatics.

Azel: To punish the misguided commoners.

(In other words…)

Emma: The apostle’s gathering was a dream shown by Prince Azel?

Azel: Of course, not all of them. There are some true believers who were beyond help.

Azel: However, the majority, yes.

Azel: The people the apostle mistakenly believed to be his followers were actually my followers, that’s all.

(…I thought it would be alright since it’s Azel…)

(I never imagined the main character of the nightmare would change so dramatically.)

From Azel to the apostle.

Having lost his smile, the apostle suddenly looked many years older.

Azel: I told you before, Emma.

Azel: I can show people sweet dreams, or I can show them nightmares.

(There’s no one in this country who can harm Azel.)

When he beckoned me closer, I was led to the exit.

Azel: Cool your head here for a while, old man.

Azel: The next time you see the moon…

Azel: …An eternal nightmare will have begun.

-

When we stepped out into the corridor, the people who were supposed to have left were there to greet Azel.

Their expressions were uniformly somber, and I could hear the sound of sobbing.

(…I see. The fact that they know Azel's divine will means…)

(The people here know that the end is a “promised reality.”)

Azel: Thank you all for your cooperation.

Azel: You are my pride, having overcome the illusion of the “eternal kingdom of God” that the apostle offers.

Man: Living God… But…

Azel: Don’t be so sad. Certainly, death may be a kind of end…

Azel: …But it is also the beginning for you to weave history with your own feet.

(...)

Azel: Let us say our final farewells tomorrow.

Azel: You are the seeds I have sown in the wilderness. So that one day, many hopes will sprout in this barren land…

Azel: Please live up to that expectation. This is my divine will for you.

No one could say anything.

People with tears streaming down their faces, people stifling sobs, people with expressions of anguish, people covering their faces with their hands…

It was a sight that showed at a glance how much the Living God had been loved and revered.

(Tomorrow…)

(…It’s time to say goodbye.)

.

.

.

Dramatic End Ch. 24 Premium Story

If you’d like to support my translations, feel free to buy me a coffee here! :)

[musingsunderstarlight]

The only kool-aid they’ve drunk is of male supremacy. Religion is not the cause of men’s poor behavior; it is instead a tool that men like these use to enforce their cruelty. There is nothing in Islamic law that prohibits the training or existence of midwives, or female education at all, which is why the Taliban have not been able to fall back on it when providing justification every time they’ve issued another ban related to girls’ education. They will often cite lack of security, which is a bullshit excuse because they clearly have the firearms to protect their people, and lack of resources for girls' schools, which they will never invest in. For this last one, they haven’t even yet issued an official statement (every article I came across said they didn't, but if someone finds that they did please share), and they may never because they know it’s complete insanity.

I’ve said this before, but falling back on religion or any other factor as the single cause of misogyny other than the desire for male power and control in a culture absolves the men of any deliberation on their part and shuts down any realistic way to combat it. Men in any patriarchal society view any form of women’s access to autonomy as a threat to their own power, and this is just an extreme version of that (personally I also believe that these extreme bans are a form of punishment or revenge for the rights Pashtun women gained in the past decades). I recently read a study published in Sage Journals (linked below) that went in depth on examining why girls' education is such an obstacle in Pashtun culture (the main ethnic group of Afghanistan, and therefore the Taliban, as well as the Khyber Pakhtunkhwa province of Pakistan for those who don't know). Of course the consensus is that there are many barriers: "poverty, Pashtunwali (tribal code), religion, accessibility, resources, shortage of female teachers, curriculum, and political apathy and corruption." But reading this from a feminist lens, it's clear that the biggest obstacle that permeates all others is an effort to maintain the status quo through the structure of the family unit wherein the mother's role is strictly confined to homemaker and true societal power remains in the hands of men:

According to Pashtunwali, a woman’s life is centered in the home. She has predefined roles and responsibilities: homemaking, food preparation, and childbearing, which do not support her education. As described by a participant (F), “The old traditions of Pashtuns [Pashtunwali] compel Pashtuns to do such things [restrict her schooling]. He does not let her go out. She is stuck inside. This is embedded culture of the Pashtuns.” If a man is seen doing women’s work, he is ridiculed by his family and friends. A man is not supposed to work in the kitchen, take care of children, or do cleaning work at home. In one participant’s (H) words, "In mountainous areas, you know, water has to be brought from the outside. It is the job of women to bring water. If a man does it, then he is bullied and called various types of insulting names. They use a particular word for such a man: khazoonak [women’s puppet]. So people will say 'Boy, what a khazoonak.' So women bring the water, firewood. Women harvest crops. If a girl goes to school and then comes home to do her homework, then she can’t do these things."

I can't help but see the similarities between this mentality and the one echoed in these lines from Harrison Butker's commencement speech at Benedictine College:

I can tell you that my beautiful wife, Isabelle, would be the first to say that her life truly started when she began living her vocation as a wife and as a mother. I’m on the stage today and able to be the man I am because I have a wife who leans into her vocation. I’m beyond blessed with the many talents God has given me, but it cannot be overstated that all of my success is made possible because a girl I met in band class back in middle school would convert to the faith, become my wife, and embrace one of the most important titles of all: homemaker.

And then further down:

I say all of this to you because I have seen it firsthand how much happier someone can be when they disregard the outside noise and move closer and closer to God’s will in their life. Isabelle’s dream of having a career might not have come true, but if you asked her today if she has any regrets on her decision, she would laugh out loud, without hesitation, and say, 'Heck, no.'

I highly recommend reading the article from Sage Journals because the connection I want people to see here is that you should never underestimate what lengths men will go to in order to maintain—or regain—power over women and how easy it is to default to another excuse for it when you have successfully secured a woman's confinement to a role that grants her no financial power. There is nothing more harmful to a women's wellbeing than withholding income, which is achieved most effectively through confinement to the domestic sphere. And in both cases I've discussed here, women's education becomes a natural casualty.

A PDF version (hopefully this link works):

[djmaliksmix]

Matilda ~ Harry Styles x reader

warnings: fluff, crying

a/n: hey lovesss! Ik I said I would be coming out with the 2nd part to “where the light enters” but I’m still trying to perfect it so give me some time but it will come I promise!

For this fic I wanted to write abt Harry and his song Matilda bc it’s my fav Harry song. I actually came up with an idea for a fic as I was listening to it LOL so I hope you enjoy! 🤍

Summary: Y/n and Harry have been best friends since he started his career in one direction and they’ve always had feelings for each other but it just has never been the right time. The band has went on their hiatus (but they still talk) and Harry has been in his solo career for a while now. He writes Matilda for the reader and she loves it. Then they hangout with the boys (Louis, Liam, Zayn, and Niall) to just catch up and Harry and y/n tell them about the song and what happened when Harry showed you.

The late afternoon sun filtered through the studio windows, casting long streaks of light across the floor. Harry sat at the mixing desk, headphones hanging around his neck and a pencil balanced between his fingers. The room was quiet except for the faint hum of the equipment, and yet his mind was anything but quiet.

He’d rehearsed this moment in his head a hundred times—showing her the song, watching her reaction—but now that she was here, he felt a familiar nervousness creeping in.

The door creaked open, and there she was, her curly hair slightly tousled from the wind outside and a coffee cup in her hand. She paused in the doorway, her gaze settling on him with a smile.

“You’ve been holed up in here all day, haven’t you?” she teased, stepping inside and closing the door behind her.

Harry smirked, spinning his chair to face her. “What can I say? A genius doesn’t take breaks.”

“Modest as always.” She rolled her eyes playfully but crossed the room to sit on his comfortable couch that he had in his studio. Her presence grounded him in a way nothing or no one else could.

They fell into an easy rhythm, talking about her day and the book she’d been reading, and Harry and how his studio hours have been going, but Harry could feel the weight of the song pressing on him. Finally, as her laughter trailed off, he cleared his throat.

“I, uh, actually have something I want to show you,” he said, his voice quieter than usual.

Her eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Oh? Is this the big secret project you’ve been working on?”

“Something like that.” He reached for a pair of headphones on the desk and handed them to her. “It’s called Matilda.”

She nodded. “Oh! Like my favorite movie!”

He smiled, “yes, we used to watch it all the time together when we were younger.

She laughed to herself, “yeah! I remember that!”

“I wrote it for you.” He said with the upmost intent in his tone. He smiled softly.

Frankly, he was nervous out his mind on how she would react to the entire song but he was even more nervous on how she would react when he told her he wrote it for her.

“Oh Harry! Really?!” She said smiling, genuinely happy that he would even think of her in the very tight scheduled work that he does.

He nodded. “I wanted to show it to you first though. Before I put it on the album so it wouldn’t be a surprise.” He said thoughtfully.

“That’s so sweet! Thank you Harry!” She said getting up to hug him. He always loved when they hugged.

Harry watched her carefully, his heart pounding as she slipped on the headphones. He could feel the weight of this moment pressing down on him—Matilda wasn’t just a song. It was a piece of her story, a mirror he hoped would reflect how much she deserved to let go of the pain she carried.

“Ready?” he asked, his voice quieter than usual.

She nodded, her fingers gripping the edges of the headphones like they might anchor her. “I think so.”

Harry pressed play.

The soft opening notes filled the space between them, and he leaned back, his chair creaking faintly. At first, her face was neutral, her head tilted slightly as she took in the melody. But as the lyrics began—“You were riding your bike to the sound of ‘It’s No Big Deal’...”—he saw the shift. Her lips parted slightly, and her brows knit together in recognition.

By the time the first chorus came around, she was leaning forward, her elbows on her knees. Harry watched as her fingers curled into the fabric of her jeans, her breathing slow but deliberate. The words were sinking in.

When the second verse began, her hand moved instinctively to cover her mouth. The tears started slowly, one sliding down her cheek, then another. She closed her eyes briefly, as if to steady herself, but it didn’t stop the flood.

Harry’s voice carried through the headphones, soft but resolute:

“You can let it go, you can throw a party full of everyone you know. Not invite your family, ‘cause they never showed you love.”

Her shoulders trembled slightly, the weight of the song pressing down on her. She pulled the headphones off for a moment, her eyes wide and glistening with tears.

“Harry…” she whispered, her voice breaking. “This is—”

“It’s okay,” he said softly. “Take your time.” Harry said kindly.

She nodded, wiping her cheeks quickly, before slipping the headphones back on. Harry moved from his chair at the table to sit next to her on the couch. His heart in his throat as he watched her listen.

He held her hand in support.

And then came the part he had worked on the longest, the part he had poured his soul into.

“I don’t believe that time will change your mind…”

She froze, her breath hitching audibly.

His voice rose, raw and full of emotion, carrying the words with a conviction that made the room feel alive.

“In other words, I know they won’t hurt you anymore as long as you can let them go…”

The multiple layers of ranges his voice went into on this one line was like an angel’s cry.

It was beautiful.

Her reaction was instantaneous. Her hand squeezed his. Her lips quivered, her eyes squeezed shut, and her body moved lightly with silent sobs.

That single line shattered her soul. It wasn’t just the words—it was the way Harry sang them, the way his voice climbed higher, breaking slightly with the force of his emotion. He wasn’t just singing; he was pleading with her, telling her with every note that she could be free of the pain she carried.

She pulled the headphones off again, setting them down carefully on the armrest of the couch before covering her face with her hands.

“Hey, hey,” Harry said softly, moving closer to her. He held her face in his hands. His green eyes piercing through her soul. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she shook her head, her voice trembling. “It’s like you took every part of me I’ve tried to hide, every part I thought no one could see, and you…you put it into words. Into music.”

Harry’s eyes glistened, but he smiled softly. “That’s because I see you. All of you. And I want you to know you don’t have to carry it anymore.”

Her breath hitched, and she leaned forward, resting her forehead on his neck. “You have no idea what this means to me.”

“I think I do,” he whispered.

The moment stretched between them, heavy with unspoken words. Then, as if by instinct, she leaned in, her lips brushing against his. Harry stilled for a heartbeat before kissing her back, his hand moving to cradle her cheek. The kiss was soft and unhurried, filled with all the emotions they hadn’t yet put into words.

When they pulled apart, her cheeks were flushed, and his thumb brushed away the tears that lingered.

“You’re not alone anymore,” Harry said, his voice steady but gentle. “Not with me.”

She gave a small, tearful laugh, her smile finally breaking through. “You’re too good at this, you know, making me vulnerable, breaking me open.”

He chuckled, resting his forehead against hers again. “If it means you’ll finally believe how amazing you are, I’ll keep doing it.”

He got into a more comfortable position on the couch and she lay on his chest, hearing his heart beat. He ran his fingers through her curls. And she had her arms around his chest. Holding him tight, she wished that she could stay like this forever.

This is where she wanted to be.

Where she was always meant to be.

She didn’t feel lost anymore, she felt whole.

It was the most beautiful experience they both have had in life. Harry was forever grateful that she was the one he could show it to first.

And for her to have all the emotions with just them two in the room is a memory only they’ll have.

And she loved it.

They stayed like that for a while, the song still playing softly in the background, its message now woven into the quiet, shared understanding between them.

~~~~~~~~~

A week later, Harry found himself standing outside Louis’s house, a bottle of wine in one hand and a small gift bag in the other. The boys had decided to get together, a rare occurrence now that their solo careers had taken them in different directions.

Y/n now officially Harry’s girlfriend,had been one of Harry’s best friend for years, and though she hadn’t joined the boys for many of their previous hangouts, she’d agreed to come this time. After all, Harry had invited her, and they both knew the boys would be pestering him about the song—and why he’d been so secretive about it.

He walked back down the sidewalk to open the car door for y/n. “Why thank you Mr. Styles.” She said playfully and smiled. He smiled softly, “Anything for you my love.”

He put the gift bag in the same hand as the wine and held her hand.

She could tell he was nervous, his palms were sweating and he was moving his hand a lot.

“Nervous?” she teased, nudging his arm.

“Not nervous,” Harry said, though his voice shakes slightly. “Just…prepared for the shit I’m about to get from my best mates.” Harry said, fake smiling.

“They’ll be nice,” she said with a grin. “Maybe.” He said under his breath.

The door swung open before they could knock, and Louis’s familiar grin greeted them. “Look who finally decided to show up! Come on, you guys, we’ve been waiting.”

Inside, the living room was a flurry of laughter and conversation. Niall was perched on the arm of the couch, already halfway through a bag of chips, while Zayn leaned back on the other end of the couch, propping his feet up on the ottoman. Liam was pouring drinks, his usual calm presence grounding the chaotic energy.

“Harry!” Niall called, waving him over. “Y/n!” Niall said bringing you in for a hug. “It’s been years! He said in the same kind voice you remember him having.

“Hey Niall!” You said hugging him back.

She walked to the kitchen to greet Liam. He smiled. “It’s great to see you again love.” He said putting down the drink he was pouring into a cup. You smiled at the warmth of his voice. “You too, Liam.” You whispered.

Liam always had a welcoming demeanor.

She walked back to the living room where Zayn and Niall were sitting.

Y/n sat on the cushion next to Zayn and Harry sat right next to her.

Zayn smiled, “hey y/n, it’s been too long. He side hugged her.

“Hey Zayn” you said smiling trying to match his mysterious tone and presence.

“Ahh, the lovely y/n finally graces us with her presence,” Louis chimed in, exaggeratedly clutching his chest. “I feel honored.”

“Please Louis, don’t make it sound like I’ve been living under a rock,” she replied with a sarcastic smile. “We’ve known each other for years. We just haven’t seen each other in so long.”

“Well, you were always with him,” Niall teased, gesturing toward Harry.

“Oh, that’s what it was,” she said, smirking at Harry. “You just didn’t want to share your best friend with the rest of them.”

Harry’s cheeks flushed, “I- I- well-“ he said stuttering. He wasn’t rly good at showing his emotions outwards, only to the one person privately.

Louis laughed and said, “Look at ole Harry getting flustered by his girl!”

Zayn, Liam, and Niall, smiled and looked at each other. They were really happy that Harry was happy and in a good place.

Harry rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress the grin on his face. “You’re too funny.”

The guys launched into their usual banter, with Niall and Louis cracking sarcastic jokes at Harry’s expense, Zayn occasionally chiming in with minimal but pointed remarks, and Liam attempting to play the peacemaker. She slipped into the dynamic effortlessly, throwing in witty comebacks and keeping up with the lighthearted teasing.

But then, as the laughter died down, Louis turned to Harry with a knowing grin. “So, come on, mate. We’re dying to know—what’s up with this Matilda song? You’ve been all mysterious about it.”

Harry shot him a playful glare. “No one said you could know about it.”

“I think it’s a bit too late for that,” Niall quipped. “I heard you were all emotional in the studio. I bet it’s one of those ‘weepy ballads’.”

“Wouldn’t be the first,” Zayn added dryly from his chair, not looking up from his phone.

“Hey, there’s depth to a good cry,” y/n chimed in, glancing at Harry with a teasing smile. “Don’t knock it ‘til you’ve heard it.”

Harry sighed dramatically. “It’s not just a ballad.” His voice softened. “It’s…well, it’s for her.”

The room fell quiet. She met Harry’s gaze and smiled softly, her heart swelling at the way he cared for her.

Louis raised an eyebrow, leaning forward. “Go on then, tell us. What’s this ‘Matilda’ really about?”

She turned to the group, not missing a beat. “Harry wrote it because he knows what I’ve been through. It’s about… letting go of the people who hurt you, and choosing to be your own person.”

The guys exchanged looks, their expressions softening as they listened.

“I cried when I heard it,” she continued, glancing at Harry. “It was like he knew exactly what I needed to hear. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so seen in my life.”

There was a collective silence before Zayn—ever minimal—said simply, “She’s not wrong, though. Harry is one of the most understanding people.”

Niall blinked. “Wait, hold up. Harry? Mr. ‘I Can’t Let My Feelings Show’ Styles?”

“Yeah,” she replied with a teasing grin. “Turns out he’s got layers.” She said teasingly.

“Who would’ve guessed,” Louis muttered with a playful eye roll.

The moment of levity didn’t take away from the underlying warmth in the room, the connection between the group stronger than ever. Harry squeezed her hand, his gaze soft but full of affection, grateful that, with these people, they had a family—a family that saw them, truly saw them, for who they were.

“Well, there you have it,” Harry said, chuckling as he leaned back. “Not all of us are too cool to have feelings.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Liam added, raising his glass.

They all clinked glasses, a toast to old friends, new bonds, and the kind of love that made you feel like you could finally breathe.

This was your family.

[the-100-days-of-junkan]

Day 94

Drowning by aparticularbandit

I’m Excited!~ 

Both because I just really like todays fic, and also because this is another piece that I’m particularly fond of both with the end result and the process of making it!

Let’s talk about the fic this time first! Spice it up a little!

Love this one! A lot! And if I’m not having a severe lapse in my memory this was actually my introduction to Bandits work! While I haven’t read all of it (yet), what I’ve managed to take in so far is truly lovely! Bandit consistently has a very strong way of putting words together, the inner monologues written for whatever character we happen to be following are so good! Go read!!

I mentioned Drowning quite a few days ago, as it inspired two of the pieces playing with the idea of Junkan’s dynamic when portrayed using the Alter Ego flavor of Junko. So it seemed pretty fucking obvious that when making a list of what fics to make fanart of in this section of the project, that Drowning would have to be one of the first ones I did.

I love the process of Mikan internally explaining how it felt to finally remember Junko after being forced to forget her in the Neo World Program. I think there’s still intricacies to the wording that I’ve yet to pick up on, but it’s such a fun and readable description of how that feels! I love it! And the fun little anecdote about the two watching Horror Movies together is so fucking pleasant just as an aside. Love that.

I really like Monokuma’s implementation here, short as his tenure in the text is. He is just a silly little guy amidst this very serious oneshot and then Mikan says “Junko” and he isn’t fucking around anymore. I love it! The description of Blood in DR is also nice!~ Now the like, actual Junkan part of the Junkan fic though. It’s amazing!~

First off, Mikachin as a nickname is adorable. Second off, I’m not sure how to adequately articulate WHY i love the rest of this so much? Like I can say I really, really love the kiss scene, it drives me up a wall how good it is like god DAMN. But the rest? It’s just so fuckin well put together, pure artistry, excellent. And the end? Mikan “swimming”? Perfect, cinema even. Good work. God damn.

As for the art it’s actually both a cover, AND an adaptation. The combo.

When trying to figure out how to handle this I knew a few things. I wanted Monokuma, and I wanted the cave by the beach, since I love that fucking metaphor. After a lot of thought I decided to make it an adaptation of the scene where Mikan pets Monokuma. Albeit adding my own interpretation of things, which may have been misguided depending on your perspective. There’s a chance that when drawing Junko here I softened her up further than what might have been intended. That’s the one thing that usually happens whenever I read these Junkan Fics taking place in actual canon, it’s always a little bit hard for me to tell what the general intention with Junko is in terms of her feelings towards Mikan. Not by any fault of the author(s) of course, it’s more me trying to tell if it was actually intended to be a softer Junko who does care for Mikan, or if that’s my own biases clouding my interpretation of the text. 

I just really liked the visual of Junko watching over Mikan while she figures things out until they can be together again, like a ghost but less sad. Except it’s a little sad given y’know, it’s Alter Ego Junko and also this is in canon so Mikan’s gonna “die” relatively soon after this, but also they don’t need to know that. 

I really need to draw Monokuma more often. I definitely draw him a bit . . . cuter? With a much smaller body compared to the size of his head, usually at least. I do draw him more on model sometimes, kind of a random chance whether that happens. 

Lighting this fuckin pic was so enjoyable, like some of the most fun I’d had in a while. I don’t really remember why I did the glowing pool below them in place of a floor, beyond the motif of water, but i’m really glad I did. Junko? Amazingly fun to draw, I made the color palette a bit more muted this time around and I think duller colors really work for Junko, which is funny given how maxed out she normally is. Her hair, was so god damn fun to draw, oh my god. 

Fun fact! This pic was actually how I introduced myself to Bandit sometime earlier into the event, and they’re an absolute fuckin treat to talk to, very glad I worked up the confidence to do so. Definitely adds a bit more sentimental value to this art in specific!~ 

As always, Reblogs, Comments, and Little Notes in the Tags are appreciated!~ They always make my day!~

[acourtofquestions]

Chapter 89

I just finished Chapter 89

[jaejoongs-nipple-piercing]

This is so good it scared me.

Obsession (2)

Pairing: Chanyeol x Reader

Warning: Stalking, Threatening, Launguage

Word Count: 3.8k

Part One

It had been a little over a week since you and Chanyeol fucked, and it had been radio silence. You had hoped he would have texted you by now, but you didn't want to come across as that needy girl. So you kept it cool, until you couldn't keep that cool any longer.

“Oh my god!” Jennie yells. “Did you hear the latest news?” She asks, rolling her eyes. You had been invited for a night out at Baekhyun's apartment with everyone in your new friends group. You had partially expected Chanyeol to have been there and when he wasn't you were disappointed. You liked him and wanted you get to know him more, you also wouldn't have minded fucking around with him again.

“What!?” Lisa asks. Everyone was intently staring at Jennie, impatiently waiting to hear what she had to say.

“A little birdy told me that Chanyeol and Maya got back together.” She says, trying to stifle a giggle. Every single person that sat around Baekhyun's living room table groaned so loudly. Sehun, Baekhyun and Jisoo started fake sobbing, Jongin threw his head back in frustration, Lisa started to pretend to gag, while Kyungsoo began muttering about how he had to go back to avoiding Chanyeol.

You, on the other hand, sat there in complete shock. He had a girlfriend? How long has this been going on?

“What's wrong with her?” You ask, glancing at the dramatic group around the table.

“Let's just say, Maya is..” Baekhyun pauses.

“Insufferable.” Kyungsoo sighs.

“Stuck up.” Jisoo adds.

“Fucking annoying.” Lisa says.

“She's like the worst possible human in the world.” Jongin says. “I don't know how he puts up with her.”

You nod your head, you didn't have anything else to say. You felt hurt and confused. Your hands played with the full shot glass that sat in front of you. Just as Sehun was about to say something, the front door opens and in walks Chanyeol with a big smile on his face.

“Hey guys, what are we talking about?” He asks, plopping down on the floor, across the table from where you and Jongin sat. You felt the anger bubble up inside of you, and even though you had planned on saying nothing, words came out of your mouth.

“Oh, just talking about how you have a girlfriend.” You say, looking up at Chanyeol, staring him in the eyes. They go wide, as if he's a deer in headlights.

“Oh, uh.” He chuckles. “Yeah, surprise, Maya and I got back together.” He says, looking away from you to avoid eye contact. You continued to stare at him, you hoped he could feel your stare burning into him.

“But why?” Baekhyun asks. “Why would you do that?”

“What's wrong with her?” Chanyeol laughs.

You were uncomfortable. You were sad, mad, annoyed. Every emotion was felt right at this moment, and it was like Jongin could sense it. He moved closer to you, putting his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer into him. He turns his head to whisper in your ear. “You okay?” He asks. You continued to look at Chanyeol who was now eyeing up you and Jongin, trying to process why his arm was around you.

“Uh huh.” You whisper back, breaking off the eye contact with Chanyeol. You gave Jongin a small half smile, hoping he would stop questioning you but that didn’t work. For the next 45 minutes, every few minutes you would catch Jongin looking at you, you could tell that he was questioning how quiet you were, wondering why and why you wouldn't tell him. You’d finally had enough social interaction for the night and decided to go.

“I’m going to head out right away.” you announce. “Just using the bathroom first.” you finish, walking towards the bathroom. You stepped outside to see Chanyeol standing outside the bathroom door, his arms crossed as he leaned against the wall.

“You’re ignoring me.” he says, looking over at you.

“You have a girlfriend.” you say back. “Were you together..when..” you pause.

“No!” he exclaims. “No.. I, uh, met up with her afterwards. That's who had texted me..and we got back together that night.” he finishes. You can feel the tears threatening to fall. You didn’t want to cry over him, it totally wasn't worth it.

“Great, I'm happy for you.” you say, walking away from him. You grab your jacket, and again, Chanyeol stands in front of you.

“Let me walk you home.” he says, grabbing his jacket.

“Nah man, you stay. I already told her I would take her. Don’t worry, I'll make sure she’s safe.” Jongin says, coming up behind you. He slides his arm around your waist, pulling you towards the door. You were grateful for Jongin, but you really hoped he wasn’t getting the wrong idea. The two of you chatted about anything and everything on your walk, he made you laugh - hard. You continued to laugh all the way to your front door. Unlocking your door, you look at Jongin.

“Thank you.” you smile. “Really.”

“Anytime, Y/N. and look..” he pauses. “I don’t know what's going on between you and Chanyeol, but just know you deserve more.” he finishes, flashing a dazzling smile before starting to walk away.

“Wait!” You call out. He turns around. “You know?” you ask him.

“I had a feeling,” he says. “Good night.” he finishes, walking away. You walk into your apartment, feeling exhausted. You didn't realize how much of a toll this night had taken on you until you laid in your bed. You hadn't even taken your clothes off, but you didn’t have the energy any longer, swiftly falling asleep.

You woke up the next morning, feeling refreshed. As you crawled out of your bed you heard a loud banging at your door. Looking out the peephole, you didn't see anyone there, so you opened up your door, only to see a dozen purple tulips sitting outside your door. A smile spreads across your face as you look for a note.

Miss me yet?

Your smile faded just as fast as it had appeared. You stared at the note, a very uneasy feeling pulsing through your body. You brought the flowers inside, took a deep breath before deciding what you were going to do. You walked into your kitchen, dumping the flowers and the note into the garbage can before heading back to your bed. You'd already had enough for today. All day, you lounged around, your phone was off, you ate and watched shitty movies. You cried, you laughed, you slept. It was the perfect day before classes on Monday, you were dreading them already. You were not taking anything easy, and your entire body was a ball of stress.

Monday you had minimal interaction with anyone, you went to classes, had lunch with the group, went home to study and work on papers and it was the exact same on Tuesday. When Wednesday rolled around, you were so excited. The week was almost done, not to mention the group had decided to do a Friday Friend Dinner every other Friday, and this week it was on. Drinks and good food, you couldn't wait. Kyungsoo was an amazing cook, you often craved his food.

You were walking to your class, when out of nowhere you're yanked to the side. You looked over only to see Mark standing there with a smile on his face.

“Hi baby.” He says, leaning in closely. You try to back up, but you back straight into a pillar. “Did you like the flowers I sent you?” He smiles, moving closer. “I've been waiting all week for you to thank me for them. It hurts me that you haven't done that yet, Y/N.” He finishes, his smile dropping.

“Oh!” You say, forcing a smile. You were trying so hard to not show him any fear even though it was radiating through your entire body. “I didn't realize it was you. There was no name on it. They're so beautiful, Mark, thank you.” You smile. You needed him to calm down and let you go without an issue. You watch his facial expressions, he was getting angrier.

“Who else would they have been from?” He snaps. “Are you seeing someone else?”

You didn't know what to say. He stares at you as the panic sets in. Your body is trembling as he gets closer. You let your instincts take over, pushing him away from you.

“Leave me alone.” You scream. He rushes back towards you, slapping his hand over your mouth, stopping you from screaming anymore. Before you can react, Mark is pulled off of you, thrown down to pavement. You look over to see Chanyeol standing there, huffing as he stares down at Mark.

“Didn't I tell you to keep your fucking hands to yourself?” Chanyeol yells. He goes to you, grabbing your hand to pull you away. He takes you out into the open, and you see a blonde girl standing there with her arms crossed and a scowl on her face.

“Chanyeol.” You breathe. “Thank you.”

He looks at you concerned. “Has he been bothering you alot?” He asks.

“No, no. He sent me flowers on Sunday, with a note but no name attached. I guess he was mad that I didn't thank him.” You explain. “I'm sure he's gotten the message now.” You half smile. You were trying to be okay but you weren't. Your body shook, you felt like you were still in shock. You looked over at the girl who looked even more unimpressed with you.

“Hi.” You smile, holding out your hand. “I'm Y/N.” You say.

She scoffs, rolling her eyes. You retracted your hand feeling uncomfortable now. She looks at Chanyeol with a pout. “You let go of my hand to help her, Channie.” She says. “I'm so sad now.”

Chanyeol sighs. “I'm sorry Maya, do you want me to buy you something?” He asks. She perks up, grabbing his hand to pull him away, spewing on about some purse she wanted.

You already hated her.

Thursday, you didn't go to your classes. You stayed curled up in bed, answering the calls from Lisa, Jennie, Jisoo, Baekhyun, Jongin and even Kyungsoo, asking you if you were okay and what they could do for you. You were eternally grateful for all of them and how much they cared for you. They had asked you if you wanted to postpone your friend's dinner, but you didn't want to. It was something that you desperately needed to try and take your mind off your Mark situation.

Friday comes, and starts off better. You went to your classes that day. It wasn't until you looked at your phone, did your heart sink, and your anxiety flared up.

[From Unknown - 8:45am] I like your outfit today. You look so cute.

[From Unknown - 8:49am] I hope your first class goes well. I miss you.

You slipped your phone in your pocket, trying to focus on your lecture. Your phone doesn't stop vibrating the entire time you were in your hour and a half class. After it ends, you pull out your phone to read some of them.

[From Unknown - 9:07am] Please text me back.

[From Unknown - 9:10am] it's really not nice to ignore someone.

[From Unknown - 9:17am] Please, baby.

You deleted all the messages, only reading a few of them. You didn't want to deal with this. Maybe eventually he would get the hint. And he did, only until the afternoon.

[From Unknown - 2:47pm] I miss your smile. You looked so happy taking in the warm sun as you were walking.

[From Unknown - 2:52pm] Did you take a picture of the sky for your IG? I can't wait for you to post it.

You ignored them again, putting your phone into your pocket as you headed to your last class of the day. The hour went by quickly, with no excessive buzzing coming from your pocket. You were relieved but that didn't last long. As you made your way to Kyungsoo's apartment, the texts continued, and got progressively worse.

[From Unknown - 4:59pm] I don't fucking appreciate this.

[From Unknown - 5:04pm] You are being a goddamn cunt right now, Y/N.

[From Unknown - 5:07pm] ANSWER ME!!

[From Unknown - 5:11pm] I'm sorry, baby. I just miss you so much. Please answer me.

You sigh as you knock on the door of Kyungsoo's apartment, finishing reading the last message.

“Hey.” Kyungsoo smiles, opening the door. You walk into the most delightful smells, immediately causing you to forget about the texts. “You can join the others in the living room.” He says, heading back to the kitchen. You take your coat off, following the sound of laughter into the living room.

“Y/N.” Everyone yells, all happy to see you. You say hi to everyone, looking at Jongin, who mouths “sorry.” To you before you see Chanyeol with his arm around Maya on the couch. You wanted to roll your eyes so fucking badly. But your phone began to vibrate.

[From Unknown - 5:27pm] I can't wait to pin you down, kissing your body all over.

[From Unknown - 5:33pm] I'm going to make you cum so many times from my fingers when I finally get you in my bed. Do you want that baby?

You can feel the tears starting. Why won't he stop?

You press the phone button to call and scream at him but it won't connect. “This number is no longer in service.”

Maybe he deactivated it.

[From Unknown - 5:46pm] I hope you're not fucking Chanyeol or Jongin baby. I'll have to punish you for that.

[From Unknown - 5:54pm] Would you like that baby? I'm going to tie you up and punish you. I don't like being ignored.

[From Unknown - 5:56pm] Y/N. ANSWER ME.

[From Unknown - 5:59pm] I will fucking kill you if you don't answer me.”

You couldn't take it anymore. The tears fell as Kyungsoo walked into the living room.

“Y/N?” He asks, glancing around at everyone else. You completely break down, sobbing into your knees.

“Hey, what's going on doll?” Lisa asks, moving towards you. You slide your unlocked phone towards her, allowing her to read the messages as you sniffle.

“What the fuck.” She gasps.

“What? What do they say?” Everyone asks.

“Can I read them out?” Jongin asks you. You hide your face but nod your head. You didn't want to deal with this shit alone.

“Holy shit. He talks about what she's wearing today and gets mad at her for not responding.” He pauses. “I can't wait to pin you down, kissing all over your body.” He reads out. You look up, every single person there was pissed beyond measure. Except for Maya, who rolled her eyes at every text.

“Y/N answer me.. I will fucking kill you if you don't answer me.” He finishes in a whisper.

No one says a thing. Lisa, Jennie and Jisoo hug you tightly until Baekhyun pipes up. “Who wants to go hunt this mother fucker down and make him wish he never met our precious Y/N?” He says.

Everyone jumps up agreeing, including Chanyeol. Maya scoffs loudly at him

“What the fuck, Chanyeol?” She yells.

“Here we go.” Baekhyun laughs.

“You're going to protect her again? What about me? I actually matter.” She says, pouting again.

“Y/N matters too.” Chanyeol tells her. “She's important to me. As are all my friends.” He says.

“So I'm not as important as this fucking thing whose scared of a few little texts? Like grow up.” She yells at you.

“Who are you calling a thing, bitch?” Lisa snaps, standing up.

“Miss fucking cry baby over there.” Maya yells.

“Maya!” Chanyeol yells, his voice booming through the house. “Shut the fuck up.” He snaps. He glares at her, she tries to stand tall but she cowers under him. “Get your stuff. We're leaving.” He yells. “NOW.” He booms. She rushes out of the room without a word. Chanyeol mutters a “sorry” towards the group before slamming the door behind him.

The group sits in silence.

“Has anyone EVER heard Chanyeol yell that loud!?” Baekhyun asks, jumping up onto the couch. “I mean sure he's loud during game nights but holy shit.”

“literally never.” Jisoo says, her eyes still wide.

Kyungsoo looks at you. “Have you gone to the cops?” He asks.

“Yeah, you really should.” Lisa and Jennie urge.

“I have.” You sniffle. “They can't do anything for me until he physically hurts me.” You cry. “Apparently covering my mouth to stop me from screaming isn't enough.”

“That's messed up.” Kyungsoo sighs. “You shouldn't be alone. You need to stay with someone.”

“She can stay with me.” Chanyeol announces, walking into the living room.

“What happened?” Baekhyun asks.

“I ended things. For good.” Chanyeol says to everyone, before turning to look at you. “Y/N I am so sorry for the way she spoke to you. That was uncalled for and not fair.” He whispers with his head down. “You didn't deserve that.”

“Thank you.” You sniffle. “You didn't have to break up with her though.”

Baekhyun laughs out loudly, making everyone else laugh along.

“Yeah I did. It was time. I can't be with someone like that, I wasn't really into it anyways.”

Your phone buzzes again on the table.

[From Unknown - 7:08pm] I'm so sorry baby, please forgive me. Just talk to me.

Chanyeol picks up your phone, reading the message. He holds out his hand for you to pull you up. “We're going to go to Y/N's apartment and grab her things. I'll let you all know when we've made it safely back to my place.” He says. You go around the group giving everyone a hug while saying thank you to them. You didn't know what you would do without such great friends. you and Chanyeol didn't say much on the drive to your apartment. You were exhausted and just wanted to rest but you knew it wasn't going to come easily tonight. You and chanyeol head up to your front door, you unlock the door, letting him in first before you lock it back up behind you. You felt too paranoid to leave anything to chance. Chanyeol chuckles as he walks towards the table, patting it with the palm of his hand.

“This is a solid table.” He smirks. You roll your eyes at him, heading into your bedroom. quickly you find a bag, shoving your clothes into it, grabbing everything you can think of right now that you would need. You grabbed your charger and your laptop, and just as you thought you had everything, you heard a loud, rapid banging on your front door. You freeze. Chanyeol puts his finger to his lips, telling you to be quiet. He waves you back into the room, mouthing for you to hide. Quietly, he creeps up to the door as the banging continues. He looks out the peephole, all he can see is black hair.

“Yes?” He says, his voice loud and deep.

“Where's Y/N?” He asks. You can hear Mark's voice.

“She's not here. You need to leave.” Chanyeol announces. “She's not interested in you. You need to move on.”

“Hah. I need to move on? She and I are meant to be together. You tell her I'll see her soon.” Mark yells, leaving Chanyeol's view. He opens the door slightly, making sure that Mark is actually gone. Chanyeol calls you out of the room, tears streaming down your face. He wraps his arm around you, taking you out of your apartment, heading for his car. You were terrified that Mark was going to be out there waiting for you. But he wasn't. Chanyeol opened the car door for you, you got in, placing your bag on the floor.

The drive is silent. It was late, you were drained. Walking up to Chanyeol's apartment, he unlocks the door, letting you go in first. It's bigger than you thought it would be. It was decorated very minimally, he had furniture around but not much else.

“It's very nice.” You smile.

“I'm still working on getting more things for it.” He laughs. He takes you to his bedroom. “You can sleep here. I'm going to take the couch.” He says.

“Chanyeol.” You sigh. “It's enough that you're letting me stay here, I can't take your bed too.”

He laughs. “You can. And you will. Get some rest okay? I'm right out there if you need.” He gives you a hub before grabbing his pj's and going into the bathroom. He comes out in a shirt and pj pants, heading for the living room. You dig through your bag, finding your shorts and a tank top to sleep in. You change and crawl into his bed. It smells so good. It smells like him. Sleep came to you easier than you thought, but it didn't last long.

You woke up breathing heavily, sweating and a little confused. You had dreamt that Mark had taken you captive and you were really shaken up over it. You crawled out of bed, heading to the living room.

Chanyeol laid on the couch, scrolling on his phone until he noticed you. He sits up quickly. “What's wrong?” he asks, standing up. He was no longer wearing a shirt.

Holy shit, you'd forgotten how ripped he was.

“it was.. a dream.” you start. “Mark.. he had..uh, kidnapped me.”

Chanyeol wraps you in his arms, in a tight and comforting hug. You hold onto him as tightly as you can, you feel so safe with him.

“Can you please sleep in the bed with me? I don't want to be alone.” You whisper.

He lets go of you, grabbing your hand and leading you to the bedroom. You both crawl into the bed, getting comfy. Chanyeol rubs your arm and shoulder as your back faces him. You quickly fall asleep, feeling more comfortable than you've been in a while. You wished the feeling of peace would last, unfortunately you knew it wouldn't.

You woke up in the morning with Chanyeol wrapped around your body. You were sweating so bad, you had no choice but to get up. You managed to wiggle your way out of his embrace, making your way to the bathroom and then to the kitchen. You snooped around his cupboards, trying to find something to make for breakfast. You settled on making eggs and toast, it was easy enough. As you continue scrambling your eggs, Chanyeol walks out of the bedroom, rubbing his eyes with a smile on his face.

“What's this?” He asks.

“Breakfast. Duh.” You laugh. You were feeling good today, you felt like it was going to be a great day. Until your phone on the table started to ring.

UNKNOWN NUMBER

Chanyeol grabbed your phone, declining the call and blocking the number.

“There. That should work.” He smiles. He sets your phone down, before it starts ringing again.

UNKNOWN NUMBER.

[circusfable]

If I knew how to run zines I would run an isat zine so fast

[bobzora]

hi! ive been meaning to get into orv, & i saw you liked it -- is there any particular translation you'd recommend? i downloaded the epub linked on reddit but i don't trust the sickos that use that website (/lh)

*sicko face* yes… read orv… YES…

to my knowledge that’s the best version there is ^_^ yep

[bellsblargbin]

The weaknesses make for great plot points too! I was reading a vampire romance webcomic “Transfusions” that utilizes the classic lore weaknesses as major plot points in the story, sources of conflict, or the core of big emotional moments. It’s a great time to watch.

I prefer vampires in serious stories to have the classic weaknesses because nothing is more boring than a bulletproof character or monster and it’s fun to play with ways to get around the rules.

But I love to imagine comedy vampires like lactose intolerant people who know the yummy thing is going to fuck them up but it’s so yummy and a tiny bit of garlic never killed anyone and yeah it’s bad to be out in the sun but the ocean is so pretty in daylight and it’s nothing a heavy coat and the biggest hat you’ve ever seen can’t fix!

[loverafey]

first !   bsf!rafe x virgin f!reader part one. part two

          ꕀ warnings - smut, lots of kissing, fingering, rafe's a softie and just so gentle with his best friend :( wc -  2.5k.

sitting beside rafe cozily while he was sprawled on his bed, scrolling away on his phone, your eyes read over the words printed on the book you were holding, a peaceful silence lingering in the air.

he had invited you over to spend the night, just a simple innocuous sleepover even, not admitting that he’d gotten a little bit too lonely in this house that was too big for a single person. sarah usually spent time with john b now, wheezie was away for a few weeks to spend time with their grandma while he was here handling all the work — maybe he should also buy a nice apartment for himself. maybe that’d be less lonely.

you were a bit too invested into the plot, some cheesy romance novel that you were somehow enjoying. cliches were not that bad sometimes, after all. you found yourself unconsciously smiling at all these events happening to the protagonist, a foreign ache blooming in your chest. envy? or perhaps just mere curiousity, you’ve never had a decent experience with dating, after all.

not even a first kiss, and it embarrassed you greatly.

almost everyone you knew was either already dating or experienced in this field, and no matter how much you tried to hide your lack of knowledge, it was clearly obvious. you weren’t innocent by all means, the book in your hands was evidence enough, the scenes already accelerating to something more heated. though reading such things sometimes felt like a self sabotaging method because it always left you craving something similar.

your eyes drifted over to rafe, watching the neutral expression adorning his face, one arm folded under his head while his other hand held his phone, scrolling through whatever. you couldn’t help but take advantage of the fact that he was not looking at you, admiring the way those plump lips of his were parted, his hair freshly shaved into a buzz cut. despite your initial shock when your best friend had revealed this new style of his to you cheekily, you loved this haircut on him a lot. everything looked good on him, though you’d rather not admit that to anyone, especially not him.

his eyes were half lidded, your heart skipping a beat as you watched him unconsciously lick his bottom lip, blood rushing to your cheeks, the book in your hand long forgotten. why was your body even reacting like this, so eager to memorise every inch of his face?

“staring a little bit too much, aren’t ya?” his calm voice broke you out of your trance, earning a soft gasp from you as you quickly looked away, the action of no avail. he’d already caught you.

“nope, just zoning out.” it was clear that you were lying. he noted how you were a little bit too squirmy, avoiding his eyes — flustered. he couldn’t help but feel a smirk rising on his lips, sitting up on his bed as he put his phone aside, all of his attention now pointed at you.

“you’re lying.” he scoffed, leaning forward.

silence once again fell within his bedroom, short yet tense. you could hear your heartbeat getting louder in your ears, taking a deep breath to calm yourself down.

“rafe, have you ever… kissed anyone?”

what a foolish question to ask, of course he had kissed many times, even you knew that, fumbling your words out in the spur of the moment. though the ways his eyes widened made you go still, realisation replacing the confusion on his face almost as quickly. he snorted, his head falling back as he nodded. “‘course i’ve kissed people. haven’t you seen me?” he asked, cockiness lacing his words.

you rolled your eyes, pursing your lips shut while trying to ignore the fact that you were a little bit too aware of the heat on your face, shrugging your shoulders. “i-it’s… it’s just…” fuck, you couldn’t believe you were actually doing this. “i haven’t… y’know.” you kept trailing off, looking anywhere and everywhere but at him.

he hummed knowingly, staring at you intently. he obviously knew that — definitely not because he always kept close tabs on you behind your back — always surprised that no one had kissed you or swept you off your feet yet. lucky him, he supposed, it was exactly what he’d wanted for a while now. “i know.”

“you do?” you gasped out, though he didn’t let you feel ashamed, his hands soon grasping yours, gently intertwining your fingers.

“i think everyone does.” he snickered, causing you to whine in protest, not even able to swat his shoulders gently since he was holding your hands. “but why’re you bringing it up, huh?” he feigned innocence.

he was so frustrating, obviously knowing that you wanted to try kissing him, especially due to the way your eyes kept trailing down onto his lips, your own lips parting slightly, as if wondering what it’d feel like to kiss him.

the thought of being your first kiss made his heart flutter in the best way possible, every little dream of his about you aching to come true. but still, it was funny to mess with you and watch you stutter while trying to not make a mess of yourself. you were just so damn adorable.

“i was wondering… if maybe we could try it.” you mumbled quietly.

“try what?”

only if you could punch him. “kissing…!” you squeaked out, already regretting your words. what if he’d reject you, never look at you the same again?

“should’ve said that sooner.” he whispered, making you realise just how close he was to you as he leaned forward, his hands pulling you in front of him, soon moving up to cup your face, the tender action making your fears melt away.

“want me to be your first kiss, baby?” his voice was more hoarse now, eyes glimmering with need as he stared down from your eyes to your lips, and then back up at your eyes that were staring at him so dreamily, feeling you nod hastily.

he soon closed the distance between you both, pressing his lips against yours. he was slow and gentle, not wanting to freak you out as you clumsily kissed him back, your fists bunching his shirt up as you clung onto him, feeling his head tilt slightly, his lips parting and moving against yours, swallowing up your surprised little noises.

it felt so good, better than you’d expected from all these novels that you’d been reading. his fingers were neatly tucked behind your ears, not minding that you were leaning forward obliviously, just wanting to be closer to him.

“c’mere.” he grunted against your mouth, that noise alone making your heart go all giddy as he pulled you up to sit on his lap, letting your hands leave his shirt as your arms wrapped around his neck, continuing to kiss him. you couldn’ believe you were kissing your best friend.

he reluctantly pulled away after a while, knowing that you had to catch your breath, eyes drinking in the sight of your panting softly, your lips all wet from the kiss. from the kiss he gave you. he found himself grinning like a fool, pressing a few more kisses on the side of your mouth, hearing you giggle.

“not too bad for a first kiss, yeah?” he asked, earning a hum from you as you snugly sat on his lap, feeling his hands hold onto your waist, fingers slipping sneakily inside your waist, rubbing your sides in light circular motions, just a shy away from the waistband of your shorts. you didn’t mind, staring at him with wide eyes, your breathing quickening at the feeling of his skin against yours.

“what’cha thinking about?” he asked, beginning to press light pecks on your jaw once he felt that you were comfortable enough.

your throat tightened momentarily, chewing on your bottom lip as you looked down, shaking your head, feeling your ears unbearably heat up once again. “nothing.” you whispered too quietly. he tsked, one hand reaching up to gently grab the side of your face, tilting your head towards his.

“just…” you cleared your throat. “just wanna do more.”

“more?”

“y’know what i mean!” this time, you did swat on his shoulders, causing him to chuckle as he nodded.

“mhm, i know. my baby wants more.” he felt your legs spreading a bit more by his hips, your body squirming on his lap. “ever touched yourself?” he asked, rendering you surprised by his rather crude question.

“yes. doesn’t feel really good… i suck at it.” you huffed, not wanting to give the details of how you awkwardly stuck your fingers inside you or tried to rub yourself, either going too fast or too slow, always failing to reach the peak.

“oh no.” he cooed mockingly, his hand gently resting on your stomach through your shirt, his eyes finding yours, softening up. you looked so shy when your confidence was all drained out, it made him want to kiss you all the more greedily. but not yet, that’d be too fast. “want me to make you feel good?” he asked, genuine.

your eyes widened, wondering if he was joking or not, though the way he was staring at you and touching you with so much care made you want to swoon, nodding after a few seconds.

“use your words, baby.”

“yes…” a smile found its way to your lips, his hands swift to shift you around so now you were in between his legs once he parted them, your back resting against his chest. you giggled, your thighs squeezing shut while he pressed soft kisses on the top of your head and then your nape, his hands gently roaming over your torso through the fabric of your shirts, caressing away through your breasts, causing your breath to hitch.

“lift your hips up, cutie.” he ordered, to which you eagerly obeyed by leaning up so he could tug your shorts down, groaning audibly at the sight of your panties. “fuck, always wanted to see you like this.” he confessed, taking down your panties too, putting the clothes aside, not letting you see that he snuck your panties into the pocket of his sweats.

“really?” you whimpered out, feeling his hands gently guiding your legs open, your back trying to lean more into his chest. his fingers snaked down, palming your pussy, your hips already twitching at the foreign touch.

“fuck, you’re so wet.” he couldn’t help but groan, pleased as his fingers swiped through your slicken folds, gathering some wetness. he was hard, his cock eager to jump out of his pants but that was a matter for later, some other day. today was all about you.

carefully, he begins to circle his fingers around your clit, feeling it pulsate due to his feather-like, almost teasing movements. you moaned out blissfully, eyes flying shut as he continued to rub your clit, your skin tingling at this newfound feeling.

“feels good?” he asked, earning a hum from you, his head resting on your shoulder, almost nuzzling against your cheek. his other hand went from gently caressing your thighs to in between your legs. “want my fingers in you too?”

“yes…” you mewled in ecstacy, lips parted in awe as your legs stayed spread, aching a bit though the pleasure coursing within you made it easy for you to ignore that. one hand focused on your clit while the other spread your folds apart, a finger teasing your tight hole, your hips trying to buck forward.

“so eager. all of this is f’me, yeah?” he was breathless, pressing hot open-mouthed kisses against your ear as you nodded, whining out something incomprehensible that seemed like a ‘yeah’.

his finger soon pushed into your pussy, feeling your squelchy walls squeeze around his digit eagerly. fuck, you were so tight, it made him want to stuff you full of his cock to see how prettily you’d stretch around him. he begin to gently move his finger around you, the other hand not ceasing its movements, fingers continuing to rub your clit.

“rafe… rafey!” you tilted your head, eagerly gasping out the nickname only you’d use on him, your lips trying to find his. he indulged, kissing your lips once again, sneaking in a second finger inside your pussy, beginning to thrust them in and out. his fingers were nicely long, reaching in and probing against your sweet spots that you had convinced yourself didn’t exist. it all felt so good, your wetness leaking onto his fingers and probably dirtying his sheets too, the pleasure from both the simultaneous rubbing of your clit and his fingers fucking your pussy made your body writhe, feeling all sensitive, getting closer to the edge embarrassingly quick.

every pretty noise you were making was muffled against his mouth, feeling all hot and needy, something building up in your stomach. “i-i think m’gonna cum.” you fumbled over your words after pulling away from the kiss.

“keep lookin’ at me.” his fingers continued to thrust in and out of your pussy at a steady pace while rubbing your wet throbbing clit, his hands a mess, eyes staying locked onto your glossy ones. your breathing quickened as you felt your peak approaching, crying out once you orgasmed, cumming all over his fingers, walls clenching around him impossibly tight as your body convulsed. his fingers didn’t stop rubbing your clit until you were a limp mess in his arms, panting softly, all warm and fuzzy.

he gently pulled his fingers out, proudly looking at them before moving his fingers to your mouth. “lick it f’me?” he asked softly, your brain melted into mush as you opened your mouth to suckle onto his fingers for a while until he pulled them out. comfortably sitting you up, he cradled your face and pressed a kiss on your nose, watching you smile doppily, just so happy.

“wanna get cleaned up?” he tilted his head, causing your brows to furrow.

“but… what about you?” you asked, looking down at the tent formed in his pants. his cheeks reddened at your observation, shaking his head as he nuzzled his nose against yours.

“don’t wanna go so fast on you and freak you out. someday later, okay?” truth was that he knew he wouldn’t be able to control himself, claiming you as his as soon as he’d fuck you properly, letting his obsession unveil. he promised himself that he wouldn’t do that — not yet at least — wanting your first time to be gentle with him taking his time with you.

and you’d be looking forward to it.

[dpspcehntr]

Okay you can write this however you want ( if ur comfortable with it) but I'd really like to see the Lads reacting if they came out of the shower and fem mc was there in their room and she removes the robe to see because she is curious what's underneath 🤭🤭

OOOO! I haven’t thought about this but I love the intimacy of this! I'm going to write this from the idea of this being early in your relationship with him.

My ask box is open! Send me your NSFW head cannons/thoughts/confessions about the LADS main 4! I might even write some of them up!

Warning: suggestive content

Xavier

He sees you sitting on his bed in his hoodie and your pajama shorts playing a game on your phone. The look of concentration on your face lets him know you haven’t noticed his presence just yet.

"What are you playing? Can I join?"

You flinch and look over to him standing in the doorway of the bathroom. This was not your first time staying over his place but it was the first time you've ever seen him in his robe. Your words are lost in your throat as he walks over to you, phone discarded on the bed next to you. Without thinking you reach out to pull the string of his robe. You expected to see his usual black boxers but was greeted by his naked form. Your throat goes dry as you shut it in hast. Your face is flush and you look away.

"S-sorry. I didn't know."

He lightly grips your chin and turns you to look at him again. His skin is covered in a light blush as he leans in for a kiss.

"I figured it would be easier if I didn't have on any clothes. But now I feel under dressed."

You reach for the hem of his hoodie and lift it off with a quickness as he climbs into the bed on top of you.

Zayne

You were packing up the belongings you brought with you for the weekend at his place when he enters the room in nothing but his robe loosely tied around his waist. He walks over to you by the dresser and slides his arms around you.

"I wish you'd stay just a little bit longer."

He plants a kiss on your shoulder and lays his head in the crook of your neck. You stay like this for a minute, just enjoying the feeling of being in his arms.

"I can spare just a little while longer. I'm dying to unwrap this gift you've gotten me."

You turn around and face him. You lock your eyes with his as you pull the ties on his robe. You give him an up and down look and hum in satisfaction.

"It's perfect."

He blushes and lifts you up to sit on the dresser.

"That's just a part of this gift, I still have more to give."

He kisses you as you scoot to the edge of the dresser and hook your legs around him.

Rafayel

Rafayel quickly enters his bedroom as you lay out on his bed. His robe is tied tight around his waist as he makes his way over to you. His nervous yet excited energy is palpable in the room as he steps between your spread legs.

"Don't be shy, let me see."

Slotted between your thighs you carefully pull at the string of his robe. His face bright red avoiding making eye contact with you as all of him is exposed. This is the first time you've gotten a moment to really look at all of him. He was beautiful, lean but powerful. Water droplets roll down his smooth skin like crystals. His breath gets more and more shallow, waiting for you to make a move.

"This is so embarrassing."

You press your hand right below his naval. Your hand warm on his cool skin as he lets out a hiss. His eyes screwed shut as you run your hands over his body. Everywhere but where he needed you, his need more visible as time passes.

"Patience my love, I'll give you what you want soon."

You sooth him as you grip the opening of his robe and pull him down over you as you lay down.

Sylus

You sit on Sylus' bed, reading something from his vast library in his mansion. He had slipped out the room some time ago to take his nightly shower. Before long you're sucked into this book, unaware of the footsteps making their way toward you.

"I'm quite fond of that title as well, though the ending is a tad disappointing. I'll have to introduce you to her other works."

You quickly reach for your bookmark, a piece of paper with a doodle of Sylus from Luke, and slam the book shut.

"You scared me-"

Your words trail off as you take him him. Hair dripping, chest exposed, and a robe tied dangerously low. You clear your throat and sit up. Still at a loss for words he closes the distance between you and gestures to the strings on his robe.

"Go ahead. I've got nothing to hide, sweetie."

You carefully grab one of the ties of his robe and watched as his whole form is exposed to you. A soft wow escapes your lips as you look him up and down. He grabs one of your hands and presses it to his chest, your hand warm on his cool body. A smug smirk sits on his lips and leans down to your ear.

"It's all yours kitten, use responsibly."

[littlcdarlin]

My Burning Sun Will Someday Rise

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 || read on AO3

summary: Reader goes on a beach vacation with Joel after her father breaks his leg. tags: daddy kink, big age gap (Joel is 49, reader is 23), dbf!Joel, Joel has a lovely belly, Joel is a little mean, praise kink, Joel calls reader "kid", unprotected piv, creampie, cunnilingus, sexual tension, blow jobs, smut with a little bit of plot, no use of Y/N, afab!reader, reader has hair (will add more as I add more parts)

note: The devil works fast but I work faster. New multi chapter smut fic inspired by those damn new Pedro pics in the works…enjoy part 1! I haven't planned all of the smut scenes, so if you have any requests for specific kinks/scenes, do let me know!

He’s dead fucking wrong. You love your father, enough to not immediately say no, but he’s wrong. It’s true you could use a girls’ trip, perhaps even a couple of days out of town with your Dad, and he’s not entirely off about university being the death of you, kiddo – you’ve spent one too many nights inhaling coffee and cramming for your finals. The idea of an all-inclusive trip is tempting, given the fact that all you manage to eat these days is pasta and store-bought pesto, if that.

Nevertheless, you need to keep studying, there’s less than two weeks left until your exams, and although the trip is only a couple of days, you don’t know Joel.

Sure, you’ve been to his barbecues, and he let you use his bike one year when yours was stolen and your Dad refused to buy you a new one, because you should have locked it up in the first place. You know how he patched up your Dad after the divorce – you never worried about your mother, who was heartbroken, but able to talk about it to her family and friends. Your Dad was the one you spent sleepless nights over. The way the beer bottles accumulated in his garage, how distant he seemed on the phone. You know it was Joel who looked after him, made sure he left the house and had anything edible inside it. You’re grateful for it, you are, but you don’t really know him. For most of your life, he has been a friendly smile and wave over a fence, and you’re shy around people you know much better than the occasional hey kid, you back for the summer? or if you see your Dad, tell him I borrowed his screwdriver, I’ll put it back tomorrow.

You do feel slightly guilty your Dad can’t go on his trip. He broke his leg, and although it’s not entirely your fault he slipped, you had been the one to mop the stairs right before the accident. As much as your Dad was looking forward to his vacation, after a week he had to admit a beach holiday would be little fun with a whole leg in plaster.

You sigh, staring at your phone screen, tapping on it every once in a while to keep it from turning black. He’s expecting an answer soon, you know he is. Who the hell books non-refundable trips anyway? When you get the time, you’ll need to tell him about a lovely invention that is insurance.

You glance over at the stack of unfinished coursework on your desk, your laptop taunting you with its quiet – no responses to the millions of job applications you have sent out have come through. At this rate, you’ll be jobless in a couple of months, when you finish your degree. You’ll have to live with either of your parents forever, no money for any sort of vacation whatsoever.

"Oh, screw it,“ you mutter, unlocking your phone, and typing quickly.

I’ll do it. Only because my A+ cleaning is the reason you can’t go. Tell Joel to bring something to read, I need to study.

***

"It’d be a shame if it went to waste, kiddo, I’m glad you’re doing this.“

"Yeah,“ you answer, thinking of the endless powerpoint slides you haven’t even looked at yet. "Maybe studying at the beach works wonders.“

There’s a knock on the door, and you move to open it, your Dad chained to his chair by his broken leg. You’re not particularly excited about the smalltalk you’ll have to make with your Dad’s friend, but if you remember correctly, Joel is as much the quiet type as you are, and might actually appreciate your studying. Great, you think, at least one of us will enjoy it, then.

When you open the door, the first thing that strikes you is how hard you find it to envision Joel at the beach – he’s all mountains and trees to you, with his lumberjack boots and flannel shirt. His smile is friendly, and only gains warmth when he notices the critical look you give his outfit.

"I know,“ he says, voice deep and quiet, "I’m king of dressing for the occasion.“

You grin, and open the door wider.

"Come on in. Dad’s in the living room. What’s with the…uh…“

Your voice trails off, as you gesture towards his distinctly un-vacationy clothes.

"Thought you might bail,“ Joel answers easily, stepping into the house. "Can’t imagine you’re overly thrilled about this.“

You think about denying it, but this is your chance to come clean about how you would much prefer keeping to yourself and preparing for your finals, so you sigh.

"Well, it’s kinda my fault Dad was, like, almost paralyzed from the neck down, so I figured the least I could do was not let his trip go to waste. I’ve got finals in two weeks, so the timing is…suboptimal.“

"Yeah, your Dad said. I brought reading material, so I won’t bother you too much.“

He’s easy, you realize. Easy to talk to, and easy to accept your reluctance to bond with an almost-stranger, quick to make you feel comfortable by hinting at that boundary. You smile back, and are struck by how he holds your eye contact until you break it yourself, nodding towards your suitcase.

"Think this will fit inside the car?“

"Sure,“ he answers, "I’ve got a Bronco.“

You have no idea what that means, but you assume it’s a good thing, so you smile vaguely.

"It’s an SUV,“ Joel explains with a hint of good-natured amusement in his voice.

"Right,“ you say, attempting to overplay your obvious lack in car-knowledge, "SUV. One of the big ones.“

It makes Joel smile again, and you notice the wrinkles around his eyes that make his face look all sunny. 

"Yeah,“ he says. "One of the big ones.“

You lead him into the living room to say good-bye to your Dad, who’s expression is a weird mixture of sombre and excited at the sight of his daughter and best friend getting ready to drive to the airport.

"Take care of her, Joel,“ he says, when you’re getting ready to leave.

"Don’t worry,“ Joel answers with a pat to your father’s arm. "I’ve got her.“

"I’m twenty-three,“ you remind your father, "I’ve done more dangerous things than a trip to the beach.“

"Yeah, but you’re still my little girl,“ he answers with a smile, squeezing your hand. You squeeze back, though his comment irritates you.

"See ya, Dad. Call me if something’s wrong with your leg, alright?“

"Sure, kiddo. Have fun, you two, and bring me a seashell.“

Joel grins at the open envy on your Dad’s face.

"We’ll go on another trip next year,“ he says in an attempt to cheer him up.

"Yeah, yeah,“ your Dad answers, glancing at his watch. "Better get going, or you’ll miss the flight.“

"We’ll be fine, Joel’s got a fast car,“ you argue, "A Bronco. That’s an SUV.“

Joel snorts.

***

Joel lets you take the window seat and plops down next to you, legs slightly spread so as to fit into the little space the two of you have. His leg nudges yours, and he pulls it back immediately, though you can see how uncomfortable it must be with his knees pressing into the seat in front of him. You move your legs towards the window with a glance at Joel, who looks grateful and is able to relax his muscles into a more comfortable position without invading your space.

"Thanks,“ he mutters, "Fucking hate flying.“

So do you, though not because you’re too big to fit into the space, and not because you’re afraid – mostly because it’s boring. Sure, takeoff is exciting, but you get nauseous from watching movies and the plane is much too loud to really enjoy your music the way you would lying on your bed at home. You could study, you suppose, but you tell yourself you wouldn’t be able to concentrate and kick your backpack further under your seat. Joel notices and chuckles.

"Finals, huh? You almost done with your degree?“

You can’t imagine him finding your boring university struggles interesting, but you’re not exactly fantastic at smalltalk, so you take the conversation he’s offering you.

"I’ve got one more year, but I’ve got to do a six month internship, and write my thesis, so yeah, this is, like, the last of my regular classes and exams.“

"You enjoy it?“

The question is strikingly honest, like he really wants to know, like it’s fine if you don’t. You look at him, his eyes already on your face, and for a second you think how handsome he is. You didn’t notice before, when he was just the owner of a bike you could conveniently borrow, when life was all skinned knees and staying up till sun-down. Now, he looks like an equal, like someone who wants to know about your life, someone you want to know about yourself. The change is a little unsettling, but thrilling. You realize you haven’t answered him, so you clear your throat.

"Sure, it’s alright. Not what I would have done if money didn’t matter, but it does, so…I can be content with it.“

Joel considers this, eyes still lingering on your face, as the plane starts speeding up for takeoff.

"What would you do if money didn’t matter?“

You shrug, and smile to yourself.

"Creative writing, maybe. Or English lit.“

"You always were the smart one in your family,“ Joel answers with a chuckle.

You glance at him, and feel a pang of something warm in your stomach as he compliments you. When the plane takes off, you look out of the window, but get the feeling Joel’s eyes keep looking at you. It makes your skin prickle, though not at all unpleasantly.

***

You get to the hotel when the sun is high in the sky, burning the top of your head and making you long for a shower and an ice-cold coke. Joel courteously carries your suitcase and although you don’t want to inconvenience him, you don’t mind the way his muscles bulge under the weight, arms straining against the navy shirt he had underneath his flannel. You wonder how he’s not suffocating in the heat, wearing his thick jeans and boots.

When you get to the front desk, he fishes his phone out of his pocket, searching for his reservation details with furrowed brows. You smile when you notice he uses two hands to scroll. It takes him a couple of minutes, cursing under his breath, and you smile at the lady, who smiles back, patiently waiting for Joel to find the right email.

"Sorry,“ you say to her, and try to catch a glimpse at Joel’s phone, so as to figure out what’s taking him so long. "Need some help?“

He throws you an offended look that makes you grin, and finally shows the lady his phone. She smiles, types something into her computer and gets out two room keys.

"Go easy on your Daddy, it’s easier when you grew up with the internet,“ she says, handing you each a keycard. You feel Joel stiffen beside you, and your stomach flutters.

"Here’s your keycards, you’re on the third floor. Enjoy your stay!“

"Thanks,“ Joel mumbles, taking the cards and handing them to you, before grabbing the two suitcases. He huffs, when you walk around a corner and towards the elevators.

"She was makin’ fun of me,“ he says accusingly when the lady is out of earshot, as if that would be your fault. You snort, all of a sudden feeling giddy at the prospect of being at the beach soon, your holiday only a couple of minutes away.

"I don’t think so, she was trying to help you by blaming your incompetence on your age,“ you say, Joel looking at you like he can’t believe what you said.

"Sorry.“ Your voice is quivering with amusement at how offended he is. "Daddy.“

That makes him clear his throat, and if your eyes aren’t playing a trick on you, his cheeks turn a shade darker. Bingo.

"Don’t say shit like that,“ Joel grumbles, "’M not that old.“

"How old are you, then?“

"Why?“, he asks, eyes meeting yours, and suddenly you’re the one blushing, your stomach swirling with something you definitely should not be feeling for your Dad’s best friend. Joel shakes his head. "Don’t start something neither of us can finish, kid.“

It’s just an offhand-comment about the way you jokingly flirted, but you feel all bashful all of a sudden. His mention of there being something to potentially start, the fact that the possibility even crossed his mind…when you look up at him again and watch him press a button on the elevator, you study the grey patches in his beard, the way his jaw clenches and unclenches as you’re waiting, his thick fingers drumming against the handle of his suitcase. It’s not what you expected to happen, but Joel’s got you intrigued.

***

You both agree to take a shower, get settled in and meet outside the rooms in half an hour – they’re neighboring, so it’s not far. You’re too lazy to properly unpack, so you just grab a bikini and a comfortable white sundress to change into after your shower. The water is welcome on your skin, washing away the grit and sweat of the hours spent on the plane, and you feel like a new person when you step out of the bathroom. You put on sandals and a pair of sunglasses, grab sunscreen, your books and notes for class, and a bottle of water, and throw it all into your beach bag, then head for the door. Joel is already waiting for you, leaning against the wall opposite your door wearing a different shirt, red swimming trunks and dark sunglasses. He’s got a towel thrown over his shoulder and you grin.

"Raw-dogging the beach?“, you ask, which makes him furrow his brows.

"The hell does that mean?“

You snort at his obvious annoyance at your innuendo.

"It means you’re only bringing a towel, nothing to entertain yourself with,“ you explain, gesturing towards your bag. Joel shakes his head, still frowning.

"I’m going to the beach, not the library,“ he answers, and starts walking towards the elevators, his flip-flops making their soft sound on the floor. Your gaze flickers down towards his legs, his swimming trunks revealing tan thighs.

"Comin’?“

You swallow, and catch up with him.

***

He’s fucking gorgeous. It’s a problem, how gorgeous he is, tan torso, swimming trunks low on his hips, bits of dark hair scattered across his chest and soft belly. His shoulders are wide, like they were made for swimming, his hair glistening as he shakes like a wet dog when he comes up for air. You have been staring at the same page for far too long now, but there’s no way Joel is able to notice your staring, not when you’re wearing your sunglasses and he’s busy swimming.

You know it’s a bad idea, that there’s no good that can come from crushing on a man twice your age, more than that, even. You know he must surely see the girl who came over to borrow his bike with tears of anger in her eyes every time he looks at you, and you know how much he respects your father.

Still, you are allowed to have fun. You’re doing this for your Dad more than anything, and you’ve been bending over backwards trying to make him proud with your good grades, so if there’s something you’re able to get out of this trip, you figure you’re at least allowed to look. And anyway, it’s not hurting anyone. It’s just natural, the half-naked bodies and blissful relaxation would affect anyone who has spent the last four months cramped up in a little dorm room.

You watch Joel swim towards the beach again, rising out of the water like some sort of Poseidon sent to personally make this trip unbearable for you. You think of his reaction when you teasingly called him Daddy, and swallow.

"Fuck,“ you mumble to yourself, when he tugs on his swimming trunks so that they don’t slide over his hips, dripping water onto the dry sand all around him. He smiles at you as he makes his way over to your spot – two deckchairs shielded by a parasol.

"Wow,“ Joel says sarcastically, when he looks at your book, still on page two. "Real page turner, huh?“

You blush, and open your mouth to defend yourself, but Joel’s expression softens, all biting humor gone, as he grabs his towel.

"You’re allowed to take a break from studying, you know?“

You watch him dry himself off, big hands rubbing the towel over his chest and stomach, leaving his legs to dry on their own, as he lays down on his deckchair.

"Easy to say, you’re not the one who has to face my Dad if you fail all your exams.“

Joel turns his head towards you, and you’re struck by how gentle his expression is.

"I know he can be a hard ass, but I guarantee you you’re not goin’ to fail all your exams, kid.“

You sigh and shrug.

"He give you a hard time ’cause of your grades?“

"No,“ you answer quickly, all of a sudden feeling defensive of your father. "I just wanna…make him proud.“

Joel smiles.

"I know for a fact you’re doin’ that without even tryin’. And anyway, it’s good to take breaks. Let’s your brain cool off and absorb information much better afterwards.“

Can’t argue with that logic, you think and close your book with a thud. Joel grabs it from you and throws it into your beach bag.

"I grant you two hours of studying each day,“ he says, and you have to laugh. "The rest is for having fun, gettin’ tan and drinkin’ cocktails."

It’s preposterous, that he would order you around like that after you told him you need to study, back before you even made it to the airport. But something is different here, away from your desk, and your Dad’s broken leg (and the rest of him, for that matter). Joel and you have fallen into an easy dynamic, and although it’s unusual, your reservations are gone. You’re actually looking forward to spending time with him, and not just because of the way his belly nudges against the waistband of his swimming trunks, or how his accent seems to thicken in the sun.

"Fine,“ you say, "but you’re paying for my tuition if I do end up failing, Miller.“

He grins at you.

[moonstruckme]

summary: when James moves into your apartment, you need a bit of an adjustment period

part 1 │ part 2 │ part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10 │ part 11 │ part 12 │ part 13

roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 1k words

You go downstairs the way a meerkat pokes its head out of its burrow. Cautious, watchful. When you spot James standing over a sizzling pan in the kitchen, it’s a bit of effort not to sigh, but you go anyway, hunger temporarily taking priority over solitude. It’s just going to have to be another quick meal.

“Hey.” James looks up from a recipe he’s reading on his phone, grinning at you. 

You press your lips together in a smile of response. The girl who’d occupied James’ room before him wouldn’t have bothered to acknowledge you, and frankly, you’d liked her for that. You’d had a mutually ambivalent relationship; you’d both paid your rent, ignored the other’s food in the fridge, and gone about your days as if you each had the apartment to yourself. She had to move out because the maintenance crew tattled on her for having a pet, and though James only moved in a week ago, he’s invited you to hang out with his friends every time they’ve come over. Which is often. (He’s at least considerate enough to always ask first, and you always say yes. Partially because they don’t make huge messes and partially because you don’t know how to reply to a yes/no question any other way.) 

You go to the fridge, tearing the aluminum foil off a half-empty can of beans and shaking it into a bowl. You put it in the microwave. James reaches to turn down the stove, and, like a frightened animal, you flinch away from him. He doesn’t seem to notice, only retreating to the opposite counter to give you more room. 

“How’s your day going?” he asks, leaning back on his forearms. 

“Not bad,” you say. Another thing about James is that in addition to his relentless geniality, he’s ferociously attractive. It takes all of your willpower not to let your eyes dip from his face to where his short sleeves conform to his biceps when he leans that way, but your face heats regardless. “Yours?” 

“Pretty good, actually.” He smiles easily. “It’s gorgeous out, have you felt the weather?” 

You shake your head. “I haven’t been out yet.” 

James nods like he knows this already, humming noncommittally. You think you spy a bit of judgment in his look, but you can’t be sure. “So,” he says, “I have something to ask you.” 

You tense. “Okay…” 

“I know you value your privacy, and I totally respect that, but I feel like as your roommate it’s my responsibility to at least ask.” 

You feel your eyes narrowing as you nod for him to continue. 

James schools his face into seriousness, a frown on his lips that looks like it doesn’t belong. “Do you not eat?” 

You laugh, relieved and bemused. “Of course I eat.”

The smile he gives you is strained, clearly for your benefit rather than his. “You sure about that? Because this morning I just saw you have one—one—piece of toast for breakfast, and then for lunch you had…what?” 

You shy, more because of his notice than anything else. The microwave beeps and you use it as an excuse to turn around. “Some cheese and crackers.” 

When you pivot with the steaming bowl, James is looking at you incredulously.

“They’re really filling!” 

“That’s a snack, love, not a meal. Both of those are snacks. Did you have anything else?” 

You hold up the bowl in your hand. “I’m about to have some beans.” 

His laugh is monosyllabic. Appalled. “You’re not serious.” 

You roll your eyes at him even as your face heats. “Listen, it’s not my most nutritious day, but I’ve been in a rush, and…” You were going to say more, but decide against it. “Anyway, there’s protein in the beans, so.” 

James isn’t having it. “And what?” 

“Nothing.” 

“Something.” He raises his eyebrows at you. “C’mon, spill, or I’m going to call your mum and tell her about your big day of—“ He draws quotes in the air, full lips curving he does “—beans and crackers.” 

“And toast,” you joke. James’ smile is small and short-lived. Does he really have your mum’s phone number? He can’t possibly. 

You sigh. “Okay, it’s nothing to do with you, but I…I’m a bit weird about being in the kitchen at the same time.” James’ thick eyebrows meet in the middle, and your shoulders hunch instinctively but you force yourself to finish explaining. “I just want to grab whatever is quickest and go before I make things awkward, or something. But I know it’s stupid.” You shake your head. You could burn the apartment to cinders with the heat from your face. “I don’t own the kitchen. You have every right to be here, and I’ll get used to it eventually. It’s just that you’re new to me right now.” 

James' expression clears. “Oh, you’re shy.” 

You must look even more embarrassed at that, because he hurries to say, “That’s alright, it’s good to know how you feel about things. And now I don’t have to call your mum.” He grins, and it widens when you make a tiny effort to reciprocate. “I don’t mind stepping out of the kitchen so you can cook every now and then.”

“You really don’t have to.” 

“It’s no trouble.” He waves you off. “Honestly, it’s too small for both of us to comfortably use at the same time anyway. Careful by the way, that pan’s hot.” 

You glance behind you, and you’ve backed yourself nearly into the stove. You move away, squeaking out a thanks. 

James’ smile softens. “I do hope you're right about getting used to me eventually, though.” He gives you a kind look, and you have no idea how he can maintain eye contact with that much sincerity in his big brown eyes. You envy the skill. “I’d like to get to be friends, but we’ve got time for that.” 

You’ve no clue how to respond, some deer-in-the-headlights instinct taking ahold of you, but James doesn’t seem to be expecting one. He reaches out to squeeze your shoulder, taking back his place at the stove. You take that as your cue to go.

[acourtofquestions]

Chapter 43 of HoF is so perfect & fluffy 🥹 so naturally I am now TERRIFIED — cause the last time SJM did this to me in CoM Nehemia died a chapter later — I CANT GO THROUGH A CHAOL KINDA BREAKUP WITH ROWAN—NOT AGAIN SARAH—NOT THEM!!!