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#sorry for taking so long getting this out lol
liveontelevision · 2 days
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Hello hello! If you are still taking requests I've been dying for an Alastor x reader where the reader was married to him when he was alive, and she outlives him quite a while before they reunite in hell, only for him to nearly die again when the angels attack. I love your work!
I've been wanting to do this prompt for a hot minute, sorry it took so long Anon :')
But here's a good long fluffy, angsty, fic to balance out how much of an ass Alastor is in Suffer lol
Curiosity Killed the Cat | Reader x Alastor
What caught your eye first, was how much whiskey he could down before losing his composure. You found yourself in awe, watching this charismatic stranger go round after round, only to end up on the dance floor with more energy than you had when you were sober. Truly a spectacle. Why don't you go tell him that?
"Excuse me-" You say in a sing-song voice, slipping by the stranger to beckon another drink your way. You may or may not have brushed your body against him in some sort of attempt to get his attention. It went unnoticed, but that's alright, that trick didn't usually work on the ones who had one too many drinks.
You decide the next best action is to sit at the seat next to him, despite there being multiple unoccupied stools at the bar. That’s something he has to question, right?
Of course not. You spent far too long trying to get his attention in any way, and he's either humming a song to himself or chatting with the plump, noisy, owner who would come by. They seemed to be close friends.. but she definitely wasn't his type. She looks like one to cause trouble.
You get a good scope of his character. He came in wearing a pristine trenchcoat, shielding an expensive-looking vest and tie combo. But, by now the tie had come undone and was draped across his neck. The heat of the whiskey might've gotten to him, he left his top few buttons precariously opened. You didn't mind that one bit. Next thing you spot; slightly messed hair and smudged glasses- bingo.
"Hey, birdy-" you finally muster some courage to get his attention. "-may I?" You pull out a handkerchief you usually have on hand, in case handsome strangers with glasses need a quick clean. It took you a good half hour to finally speak up, but he's looking you up and down as if you had just walked in. It takes a moment, but you see him finally decide you aren't a threat. He sits silently. Taking another swig of his drink, he looks at you with a smile. Does he want you to.. no harm in trying.
You bite at your lip, hesitantly reach out to his face, and carefully pluck the glasses from the bridge of his nose. He shuts his eyes as you do so. A man hasn't made you blush in quite some time. You decide to blame the drinks. Luckily, you have a task to keep your mind preoccupied. You're carefully swiping any smudges clear from the lenses when you hear his voice for the first time. Or so you thought.
"Mimzy, dear, do tell me who this little kitten here is. A regular?" You're assuming he's speaking about you, he's gesturing in your direction with his empty glass. The owner of the speak-easy, who you now know as Mimzy, trots behind the bar to top off his drink.
"For sure! What do ya say, kid, you're here.. on most weekends, ain't ya?" She turns to you, and you take a moment to confirm. You didn't think she'd notice, you don't come here that often. That's what you tell yourself at least.
"Got an eye on her tonight, Al? Sounds like someone's not goin' home alone~" She teases him with a quick jab, and he's quick to roll his eyes.
"Now now, she's been perched here for quite a while and has barely said a word to me, I doubt she's getting any more than a free drink." He sounds snarky, yet.. familiar..
"Al… as in Alastor? That radio host fellow? Well, I’ll be damned! I wasn't expecting a celebrity such as yourself to frequent little joints like this one." You comment, finally joining the conversation. You hear a throat being cleared dramatically and turn to the owner behind the bar. You laugh nervously.
"Not that- it's still a good bar- I.. Sorry." Good recovery. Your attention is taken to the hand outstretched to you, and you instinctively lean away from it.
"Kitten-" He beckons his hand, and you follow his eyes to his glasses that were still in your grasp. You let yet another nervous laugh and quickly pass them over. He slips them on with a satisfied hum.
"If I remember correctly, Al-" you attempt to mock the nickname you picked up from Mimzy. "- You have a broadcast tomorrow morning, no? You really think drinking like a sailor tonight is the best idea?" You weren’t concerned, really. You wanted to tease him a bit longer.
"Props to you for knowing my schedule." You realize how strange that might've sounded and quickly finish your drink to prevent any more embarrassing thoughts from slipping from your lips. "Are you implying I can't handle my liquor, dear?" He scoffs, beckoning the bartender over. He has them refill your glass.
"I'm sure you can, birdy, but you've been pounding down more drinks than I can count." You respond. You weren't one to flirt effectively. That, or he just happens to see right through your nerves.
"So, you've been counting, hm?" You realize you had outed yourself to watching him all night. You curse yourself quietly, hoping the music filling the room will cover your frustration. "Appreciate the concern, but I promise you, I'm more than capable of doing my job. No matter the circumstances."
While he seemed to be reading you quite easily, you had picked a few things up yourself. For one, he watches everything. And he seems to only drop his intel when he needs to. Or to mock you. And two, he's a bit of a narcissist.. quite an ego on this one. But that could work in your favor tonight.
"Well, fine then. I'll be up bright and early to listen to your broadcast. I doubt you can get through it with a hangover. Especially considering how much you've been drinking."  You state proudly. He lets out a chuckle, and despite how quiet it is, you can't help but appreciate his sultry laugh.
"Is that a challenge, kitten?" He purrs -ha- leaning his chin into his hand and slouching his body towards the bar.
"I mean if it is, there must be stakes." You say it as a matter of fact. "Let's say.. you cover my bill next time if I catch you slip up."
"Hm. Seems fair. You better be listening close, though, I'm very good at what I do." He enunciates his final sentence and it sends a shiver down your spine. For a brief moment, you consider this could be a bad idea.
"And when I win, what will be my prize?" He asks. You let out a little giggle at his cockiness.
"I'll tell you my name." He cocks his head to the side, an intrigue hitting him. Did he really manage to get this far without a proper introduction?
"I see your little detective game going on, I'll give you that. You are quite the observer. But you won't find my name just by looking." You say smugly. That's true for a number of reasons.
"I suppose you did leave that information out, hm?" He let's his eyes drop, as if he was trying to piece it together with what little information he had.
"I must say, you've got me hooked, kitten." He lets out a sigh, leaning back in his chair and finishing off yet another drink.
"Deal?" You hum, holding your hand out to him. He smirks, taking it into his own, not expecting a firm shake, but receiving one. He went on to press a quick kiss to your knuckles.
"Deal."
You went home alone after that night, but it was likely for the best. You were sure you'd see him next time, anyway.
Now that you had to tell him your name.
You thought for sure he'd at least stumble through a sentence, but no. He went through the entire show, even an interview with some big shot, and spoke perfect English. He talked like he'd never had a drop of booze his entire life and got a full night's sleep, which you both knew was far from the truth. You almost dreaded the next encounter, but at least you didn't wager anything too crazy. Sure, he'll see you differently after this, but if this were to go any further - what are you on about? You only met him once and listened to him on the radio occasionally at best. He's a perfect stranger to you. Let's not get too excited.
You find yourself seated in the same spot as before, shrinking into your seat and downing a few drinks to build your courage. You told him your mark. An awkward introduction, first and last name, made you feel like a new student at a children's school. He perks up, which is what you expected.
"Ah! So you're the famed physician! It's almost silly of you to call me a celebrity, you're the talk of the town, kitten." You groan, of course, he recognizes you. Everyone in this damned small town knows your name, your family.
You were one of the first women to complete their studies and practice medicine from your hometown. But to attend such high schooling in this time, your family had to be well off. And you were, in fact, well off. When it came to your love life, men were either disgusted by your pursuit of knowledge or took it like some fetish. You haven't approached anyone for years.. not like this, at least.
"You know, I spoke with your father a few-" You groan at the mention of him, cutting Alastor off mid-sentence.
"Don't be a fool, I heard the little interview on your show.. Can't say that was my favorite broadcast." Alastor had a certain segment where he would chat with some of the richer and more.. stuck up.. men in society. It wasn’t titled as such, you just noticed the trend of guests being pompous and wealthy. And your father was the perfect fit for that.
You didn't know this at the time, but Alastor was suddenly hit with some mixed emotions. There was more than one reason as to why your father was chosen to be on his broadcast. Alastor used his interviews to initiate close ties, and make powerful allies. If they weren't complying how he hoped, he would usually cut ties. Permanently.
Your father was definitely not a reasonable man, in fact, you made it a point to avoid him when you returned home. But did he deserve death?
"I didn't expect just the sight of me walking the streets to be as interesting as it is." You mumbled, leaning forward on the counter and drinking something much stronger than you expected. But the mentions of your father called for a hard hitter.
"You didn't?" He asked bluntly, twirling the liquor in his glass. You hum in agreement. Gossip spreads like wildfire here.
"Well, you've picked up some interesting feats. If you were hoping to go unseen, I would've put some more thought into my rags." He gestured to your clothing. It was definitely of higher quality, but it was something you were used to wearing while attending your school in a high-class city. You felt a bit embarrassed, placing your hands in your lap to subtly hide your body.
"And a beautiful doctor like yourself just 'walking the streets'? Some might be concerned for your safety." You tilt your head to the side at his words. Your confusion makes him smirk.
"I'm sure you're aware, kitten, but there seems to be a killer on the loose." He seems far too excited for the subject at hand, and it's almost noticeable.
"Hm. Guess I shouldn't be going out alone and talking to strange men, should I?" You say with a smile.
"I suppose you shouldn't." He shrugs off your words, getting another drink. You didn't even see him finish the previous one. "Though I must say, I'm glad you did. You've been quite the conversationalist." It's barely flirting, but it seems to leave you blushing a bit.
You went on to chat throughout the night, your drunken rambling turned to complaints about your father, and morbid details about what you'd learned in medical school. Both topics that you didn't realize intrigued Alastor to a personal extent. Later on, the rambles started to become incomprehensible. He decides it would be best for you to leave, considering you were refusing to do so and thoroughly embarrassing yourself in the process.
A giggling, stumbling mess, you were carefully lifted from your seat and brought to your feet with his assistance. He helped you out to the streetside, calling a taxi and bringing you into the backseat gently. He then went ahead and paid the driver, and turned at his heels to head back inside.
As he was reaching for the bar's door, a loud call forced him to turn back to the cab.
"Buddy, she's too sloshed to give me an address. You know where she lives?" Shit. Alastor looks to the bar’s door, then to the cab, where he spots you leaning your head against the window in the backseat. He sighs.
After insisting the driver keep the fair, Alastor brought you back out. He kept you standing with a hand on your lower back, as you gripped onto his shirt, far too small to reach your arm over his towering figure. He was cringing at the sight of his clothes becoming disheveled.
"Alright, kitten, where are you staying? I doubt you'd appreciate me taking you to your family home.." He was talking in a hushed voice, in the hopes that you'd have enough conscious to respond, but knew that likely wasn't the case. He looks around the area as if the answer would be in plain sight. He lets out a sigh of defeat when it clearly wasn't.
"Didn't even get to finish my drink.." He mumbles, pulling you closer to keep you stable enough to walk a few blocks.
There, sat a charming little motel. However, calling it charming was.. optimistic. Your memory, to this day, is in small flashes. Only certain things come to mind when trying to picture what went on.
You remember Alastor talking to the older gentleman at the desk. It seemed like they were acquaintances. Maybe they've done business in the past.
You remember him giving up after finding that the room he booked was on the second floor. Unwilling to deal with the staircase, he hoisted you up quite easily. You definitely remember that. How such a slender man can hold you in his arms with no strain.
You remember the room, it was cleaner than you expected. He seated you on the edge of the bed, kneeling in front of you to remove your heels. He didn't seem to go much farther than that. He could've removed your entire wardrobe with your state of mind, and you'd be none the wiser. How awful it must be, to live in a world where a man not making a pass, surprises you.
As far as you know, you drifted to sleep almost right after. You're pretty sure he wrapped you in the blankets, and you remember the faint touch of hair being brushed from your face. His hand was far colder than you would have expected.
Being in your occupation, you don't exactly have time to confront all the horrific sights you've seen. So, your body deals with those emotions in other ways. A common occurrence, you were plagued with a number of night terrors. Something seems different in tonight's regularly scheduled program, though. A radio static overwhelms your senses, and any horrifying disfigurations that were taunting you seem to fade into nothing. A yellow grin and glowing red eyes are the last thing you can see.
You woke up the next morning with an excruciating headache, an ache in your stomach, and sore feet. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you barely care about the makeup that you'd smudged beyond repair. You try to recall your dreams, which usually stay vivid in your mind for most of the morning, but.. there's nothing. And despite the killer hangover, you feel more awake than you have in ages.
The panic settled in after you ran your hands across the unfamiliar sheets. With a soft gasp, you observe yourself. Still fully clothed, you spot your heels set next to the door. You look around the room next, and you almost feel relieved, seeing Alastor seated in a lounge chair in the corner of the room. He had his nose in a book. It was better than seeing him lying on the other side of the bed.. wait, was it?
You let out a pathetic little sound, your voice too weak to form any coherent words. He sets the book on his lap, and your sad attempt at a greeting seems to catch his attention.
"Good morning to you, too, kitten. Sleep well?" You were sure he drank as much as last night. If not, more. How dare he look so put together?
"Morning. I-um.. I suppose I did.. I-I hate to ask, but did... did we-" you stammer out, and he quickly holds his hands up in defense.
"Heavens no, dear, I wouldn't dare defile a woman who can't handle her whiskey." You scoff at his insult but still feel disarmed by his reaction.
"So then.. the motel room?" You question. He cocks his head to the side, only now realizing that your memory must've gone from the previous night.
"Ah, so you really can't handle your whiskey.. Well, not to fret, dear. You weren't telling me where you were staying, and Mimzy seemed keen on me taking you elsewhere." In actuality, she was trying to play matchmaker. Thanks for trying, Mimzy.
"I'm sorry for the trouble, Alastor, I hate that you bought a room just for me.. I can pay you back." You sit up, running your hands through your mess of hair and letting out a pained groan.
"I'm sure you can, but I simply can't accept." He stands, tucking the book under his arm and walking to your bedside. You swing your legs over the edge, only to notice how close he seems to hover over you. You look up and realize how statuesque he was. You hadn't seen him in daylight. And his height is much more intimating when he stands.
"It was my pleasure, getting to witness you thoroughly embarrass yourself." He bends at the hips, a taunting smile across his face. You try to recall anything embarrassing you might've done the night before, but you can barely recall a thing. That did little to ease your mind.
"You'll have to tell me about it one day." You grumble, standing with his assistance. He offered to escort you home, and you happily accepted.
The two of you stand on your small porch. It's a quaint duplex you've been renting, you go on about how how the family who lives here travels for the summer and was more than happy to offer their home to such a sweet thing.
"Well, since you insist that I can't handle my liquor, it might be a better idea to find each other.. somewhere other than a joint..." you say sheepishly, your eyes wandering to anywhere but his gaze. When he steps closer, you finally fix your wide eyes on him.
"You don't want me to court you, kitten. You're a lovely, educated, pretty little thing, you'll be wasting your time, unfortunately." He doesn't sound insulting, he says it very truthfully. It only makes you want to see more. To ask him to come in, and stick around awhile. But you're aware he has a broadcast coming up soon. You wonder if he would've stayed by your side if you slept through it.
"I'll be the judge of that. Besides, getting coffee doesn't waste too much time." You decide to stand your ground. You aren't sure why he's refusing if he thinks all that of you. You see him look you up and down, then let out a sigh.
"Hm. I suppose. I'll be back here tomorrow morning since you're so insistent. Just remember I warned you-" He says playfully as he makes his way down the stairs.
"Curiosity killed the cat, my dear!" He calls out before giving another heart-melting smile. You nervously bite your lip and watch him walk off through the cracked door. Like a damned puppy, you couldn't help but watch him walk off. You quickly shut the door, after realizing how hard you were smiling.
-
This was supposed to be for fun. You were just supposed to be some extra company on occasions. And he knew you came with your perks. You were an heir to a decent fortune, it only made sense for him to befriend you. You were knowledgeable and smart, he could definitely benefit from your skills if he needs to do so. There were plenty of ways Alastor could use you if necessary.
But with every little dance, every little coffee, or walk home from the bar, it was making him nervous. Of course, he would never call it that, he's too disgusted by the pangs in his chest he gets around you. Unfiltered, yet still delicate and professional. Incredibly intelligent, yet still makes the silliest mistakes. You were flawed. You came from such a slob of a man, and the fact that you are so kind despite that amazes him more than you realize. You are more than willing to stand for your beliefs. For one of the first times in his life, Alastor admired someone.
He's not sure what conversations led to him agreeing to cook yet another dinner in your home, but here he was; standing at your door with a bag of groceries.
"Oh- you didn't need to do all that, you're always free to use anything in the kitchen." You greet him as he comes inside, where he sets the bag at a nearby counter space. You reach up and pull his trenchcoat off his shoulders, which he willingly surrenders to. It was a little action you took, taking his coat for him when he would stop by. He's come to expect it. You hang it up on the rack nearby.
"Nonsense, I'm sure you have plenty to work with, but I'm following a special recipe tonight." He insisted, already unpacking things, setting up pots and pans, and rolling up his sleeves. He pulled an apron from the bag last, and the sight of him all prepped for cooking leaves you weak in the knees. You want to see this every night. You want him in your kitchen every mealtime. You shake the desires from your head, pushing aside the dreams of domesticity that have been plaguing your mind recently.
"Can I help with anything?" You chime in, peeking around the corner to smile at him through the doorway. He shakes his head.
"If you feel the need to help, you're more than welcome to get the table set, but I am quite in my element here, kitten. So, not to worry." You were mostly listening to him, but one part of you kept your focus on his skillful knife practice, watching him chop vegetables in a nearly professional manner.
"Kitten? The table?" His words and his moving on to something else snapped you from your funk.
"Oh! Of course, yes." You stumble a bit but do as he instructs. It wasn't anything special, but the space was more than enough to give the ambiance of a good date.
Damn, this man could cook. He's cooked for you before, but something you couldn't quite put a finger on left you swooning at the sight of the still-steaming gumbo in front of you.
"Damn, you can cook." You're muttering, between bites. You almost can't taste all its decadence, digging in before letting it fully cool.
"Slow down, dear, we have all night." He says softly, despite bringing a spoonful to his own lips. You catch yourself staring at the sight of him eating beside you, enthralled by his enthusiastic hums.
"So where did this come from? I'm a bit suspicious of the finery if I'm honest." You place your elbows on the table, perching your chin on top of your hands. He scoffs in response.
"How rude. All my meals are of the highest quality. I simply haven't made this in quite a while, I thought tonight would be a good time to do so." He replies.
"A recipe for special occasions, hm? Would you consider this.. a special occasion?" You tease, looking at him with a cocked eyebrow. He looks confused, letting his eyes wander in thought for a moment. Was this a special occasion? Is there any specific reason he wanted to bring his own mother's recipe to some girl he's befriended? He pushes the thought aside, planning on mocking you like usual.
"Any night with you is plenty special, kitten." He hums, popping another spoonful into his mouth. He doesn't see your face turning red, but his oblivious flirting always leaves you flushed.
"In that case, when are you inviting me to your own home? I won't lie and say I'm not curious, Al." You set your finished plate aside and notice his eye twitch. You've been staring at him long enough to notice even his smallest ticks.
"Someday. I've a bit of a mess to go through before considering bringing any guests over." He brushes clean his already pristine top, as you stand and take his empty plate to the kitchen. With a sigh, you take yourself over to the sink to do a quick clean. It's the least you could do after such a lovely meal.
"If you say so." You try your best to sound calm, but you're slightly hurt by his constant rejection of letting you into his personal life. It wasn't all the time, but there were clearly things he refused to talk about. You want nothing more than to know him.
Lost in your mildly upsetting thoughts, you recklessly take one of his knives the wrong way, the blade slicing surprisingly easily down your finger. The shock takes you back more than the actual pain. These are far too nice for everyday cooking.
Letting out a quiet curse, you feel his hand brush over your own, his shadow casting over your entirety. "Such a clutz." You hear, his voice causing you to tense. You let him guide your hand under the water to rinse it, effectively caging you in place.
"Be careful, will you? These are my nicer tools." Interesting way to say it, but you were too focused on the fact that you could feel his breath heating the back of your neck. You simply nod, before turning the water off with your free hand. You turn your body around, leaning your back against the edge of the countertop and effectively facing Alastor. His hands stay planted on either side of you, making it a bit of a tight squeeze. You weren't sure what you were trying to accomplish here, but here you are. Neither of you seem to be moving away, though. He drops his head to look into your eyes. You're lost in them.
You reach your arms upwards, holding them around his neck as best you can, and you feel him willingly lean within your grasp. The moment is heated, you feel his breath against your lips as you pull him impossibly closer. His breath is quick, almost shaky. You've never seen this side of him. You'd never associate Alastor with the term nervous.
Nearly closing the gap, you feel a hand come to your throat and fingers gently holding your jaw. With a quick turn, he places a soft kiss on your cheek. It lingers for a moment, and even if it wasn't what you were expecting, you're gasping beneath his affection. The room seems to cool down for a moment. He steps away silently, pulling his things all together.
You may have made a mistake.
"Oh, Al- I'm sorry I didn't think.. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, i-if that's what happened there." Your words quicken, suddenly becoming anxious that you may have upset him.
"No, don't fret." He waves his hand dismissively, his back still turned to you as he keeps himself busy with a bit of tidying. "I'd be an idiot to not expect that, eventually." He almost sounds insulting, a little cocky.
"Why's that? Are you used to women just throwing themselves at you?" You tease but keep yourself from his eyeline.
"Well, yes- but, you've been especially touchy recently. And you seem to be acting like I make you.. nervous. Fidgety." His little observations leave you a bit embarrassed.
"It's not nervous.. exactly. Never mind that, though.. Does.. that interest you..? At all?" It takes you a while to get the question out and it still comes across shaky. You're response is silence. Fill it.
"H-How about a drink before you head off, hm?" You quickly shuffle to your liquor cart, looking for anything to drown out your essential confession.
"It does." You freeze in place, missing the cup entirely with your first pour. That was an answer neither of you were really expecting. You finally turn to him, seeing that he had looked away just as you did.
"So, that means-" you want him to elaborate. You want to hear him say all the things you've been dreaming of. That he wants to spend his free time with you, hold your hand, and kiss it with more than just a greeting in mind. To call you anything other than kitten. Well.. that last part you didn't mind as much.
"I've not prepared myself for such a conversation, but I.. enjoy your company. And your brains.. and you certainly aren't terrible to look at." He said he didn't prepare himself, and it was pretty obvious. This wasn't his usual taunting, his usually eloquent beats. He's pausing between phrases, to come up with the best words on hand.
"Jee, thanks." You roll your eyes, your smile still shining.
"I suppose you leave me speechless, kitten." You leave a radio host, a man who talks for a living and is quite good at it, speechless. This time, he sees the freshly pink hues across your cheek. He lets out a devious chuckle, one you recognize when he's about to do something you'd consider nefarious. He starts to approach you, his clean shoes clicking against the wooden floors being the only sound. You knew you weren't in danger, but you find yourself walking backward until you hit the table. Continuing to lean away from him, he towers over you, only following your avoidance until you are straining to stand upwards.
"Well?" You let out, your words barely a whisper. "Are you going to kiss me or not?"
That seems to shock him a bit, you see his shoulders tense just slightly. You watch him contemplate his next action. He let his hand snake around your waist, not exactly to pull you closer, but his touch still left you weak. With a soft kiss on your lips, he gave you no time to truly enjoy it.
"I hate to repeat myself, but I warned you, kitten. Curious little things like yourself deserve.. more." After processing his words, you're still melting to his touch despite how fleeting it was. He steps away.
"W-What- No! I thought you said you were interested! And that kiss- W-What were-" You throw a bit of a tantrum, but quickly calm yourself. "I don't understand, help me understand. Please.." You sound a bit defeated. He sighs, clearly pained that this conversation has to continue.
"Hm.. I don't believe I'm able to give you everything you need. But, you deserve everything you need. It's as simple as that." He's pausing between words, and his expression shows that he's still not exactly satisfied with how it came out.
You shrank in place and held your arms, your mind trying to scrap together any little hints to what he means. Maybe something he's mentioned in the past. But as elusive as ever, it still just doesn't make sense to you. He catches a glimpse of your upset appearance, then takes in the rest of your state a bit longer. You can feel his eyes on you, forcing you to nervously bite at your lip.
"Okay. Let's forget all that, then." You said softly, smiling the best you can and waving your hand dismissively. He obviously knows that you wouldn't lose these feelings as quickly as he'd hoped. He'd reassure you, you'll get over it.
But you couldn't. You tried, you did. You went on other dates, considering how many men were throwing themselves at you in the right bars. You kept your distance for a bit but still saw him at Mimzy's bar on the weekends. Despite all your potential suitors, you still only seemed to look forward to those nights with Alastor. You'd go as far as to complain about some unruly men to him. His disgusted reactions were a comfort.
You kept trying to pry his real reasoning as to why he wouldn't be with you. He'd admit to not being trustworthy, which you would always dismiss. He'd go on about the other men that would be a much better fit, and all with good reasoning, but you still wouldn't stop pestering him. Then, after a few too many drinks, he finally let slip his disinterest in intimacy. And from everything he's told you, this seemed different. It wasn't an excuse or an avoidance, it was the truth.
"So, you don't find me physically attractive?" You ask him, swirling your half-empty cup.
"It's not that, I assure you. I'd just prefer to shower you in other affections, I suppose." He seems a bit unfiltered tonight, still avoiding your eyes.
"Other affections, hm? Like what, birdy?" You were already enraptured. But you were kicking yourself for getting your hopes up at all. You can see his immediate regret in his words.
"Kitten-"
"Please? I'm just curious." You say sincerely, placing your hand over top of his. You hesitate for a moment, but he seems to not mind the touch.
"Well.. I'd like to buy you the finest things. Any book you're slightly interested in, any frock that draws your eyes, any accessories that would bring out your natural beauty- you deserve it. I want to keep you proudly on my arm throughout the streets, showing everyone that you belong to me. I'd like to cook you every meal, until the day I die." His drunken rants leave an obvious sparkle in your eyes.
"Well that all sounds lovely to me.." you say softly, twisting and turning his hand until your fingers are comfortably interlocked with his. "Simply put, you're not interested in sex?” He was taken aback by your bold words, looking around as if he were nervous someone would hear. “I’ve read about it before, there’s an interesting essay that describes this sort of phenomenon. I'll have to lend it to you.” Your calmness surprises him.
“Well.. Thank you. That puts an end to that, then. Go on and find a man who can properly bed you.” He tries to act just as calm, but his voice still seems a bit frustrated by the idea. You make an act out of tapping your chin and humming in thought.
“No, I’d much rather spend my time with you.” You say bluntly. He quickly chimes in.
“But, I-”
“Alastor, I’ve never met someone as arrogant as you.” You let out a frustrated groan, pinching the bridge of your nose. “If you’ll have me, however you want that is, I’d love nothing more than to spend my days with you.” You speak slowly, almost mockingly, trying to get this damned point across after so long.
He’s still quiet, opening his mouth to respond, then letting his lips shut again. He smiles at you. You couldn't ask for a better response. It was the sweetest smile you've ever seen from him, no sign of teasing or mocking you, no hidden intent, and just slightly bashful. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze, in a sweet sign of acceptance.
Things went on after that without a hitch. Mostly. There were some kinks to work out, sure, but you were absolutely head over heels for him. No one’s ever brought you this much joy, and having this more intimate side of him, despite its physicalities, was more than you could ever hope for. He’d finally let you into his home after a while. It was near spotless and he was more than willing to show off the space to you. You wondered why he felt the need to stall this for so long. But you’re together now, hardly anything else matters.
As the summer came to an end, and you had to find somewhere else, you were invited to stay with Alastor. After walking freely around town, as promised, with his arm around yours, gossip spread as it always does. Another talk of the town, two unwed youths in the same place, sharing the same bed assumedly. It made you two snicker at the rumors. Living with him was heaven.
Following through his previous statements, he showered you in compliments, cooked every meal for you, and spent as much of his free time with you as he could. He offered little physical affection, little pecks here and there, and had no issue with sharing his bed. It wasn't long before you popped the question. Neither of you were really interested in the big fancy wedding idea, he was even comprehended by the marriage itself, but if anyone could wear down his nerves, it was you. That being said, Alastor did get you a ring that you were sure cost far too much. He brought up the idea of eloping. A little vacation just for the two of you. It sounded perfect.
“Birdy~ You let out in a sing-song tone, opening the door to your shared home. Every time you’d walk up to the house, you’d slow down, taking in your flawless reality every day. You’d hold your hand out to yourself, looking at the still newly polished ring, then finally entering your perfect home.
Although, it wasn’t perfect today.
You call out his name, no response. You know he should be home, so you peak around corners to no avail. You checked tables and counters, no note to be seen.
After setting down your bag, slipping your heels off, and hanging your coat after your quick search, you head to your room to at least change for the evening. You and Alastor usually go visit Mimzy on these nights, an unspoken routine.
On the way to your room, your tights hit a wet splotch on the floor. With a groan of disgust, you finally realize what you had stepped in.
Blood.
Of course, you’d recognize blood. It trailed from the door in front of you.
Alastor assured you this was his office and showed it to you on occasion. The door was always open when he wasn't home, and although you never felt the need to intrude on his personal space, something was clearly wrong. You swung open the door.
“No.”
You cover your mouth after your quiet refusal. You're silent, unwilling to believe what you're seeing. Your darling husband-to-be, kneeling over a stained and still wet corpse wrapped in canvas. His hands are covered in blood. Actually, his entire body is covered in blood.
How he managed to get in and out of the house without making an entire mess was a thought that managed to cross your mind in your state of shock. You glance up for a second to notice one of the heavy bookshelves pushed aside, a sort of patio doorway leading to the swampy area behind the house.
You look at the door, then to Alastor. Who’s giving you a wide-eyed face that pains your chest.
Say something, Alastor. Say something that’ll make this all okay. You're a deer in headlights.
He notices your eyes dart to the right, then back to him, staring for a moment longer. One thing is on your mind without his reassurance. You’re in danger.
Run.
You book it down the hall, clearly going to the exit. Both your feet soaked in blood at this point are tracking through the house. The moment was such a blur, that you hardly remember how far you got before feeling the pain of hitting the floor. You look down after scrambling onto your back, seeing Alastor’s hand wrap around your ankle.
“Hold on! You’re covered in blood, you’re a mess, just-” He sounds deranged. Who is this man? Surely not the one who’s been treating you so well all this time. He sounds anxious and angry. You’re face is stained with tears as he essentially drags you across the floor briefly, not considering his heightened adrenaline in these moments. You kick. You scream.
“Listen to me!” He grabs you by your arms, giving you a good shake. That seems to calm you down.. or at least quiet you down. You’re staring at him wide-eyed, your breath rapid. He has your attention, yet he’s not sure what to say. A pained expression grows on his face. You’re leaving him speechless, again.
“Let’s.. clean you up.” He scoops you up, and maybe it's the shock that leaves you so lenient. Or maybe it's all the good times blurring what you've witnessed. When you come to, you’re sitting in the bath, Alastor by your side, and running a sponge across your arm, thoroughly staining the water with blood. The sight brings a gasp from your lips, that feels like the first breath you've taken in hours.
“A-Alastor-” You let out weakly, your frightened expression now burned into his mind. “Was that real..?”
“It was-” He lets out a pained sigh, seeing if he could soften the truth. It's not possible. “-It was.” no words can save him from this.
“W-Why..?”
“He was rather unpleasant. A man with too much money, who wasted most of his time on hitting his women staff. He had his chance to make things right, I assure you, this is always the last resort.” That doesn't help for obvious reasons. You pull away from his gentle washing.
“Always? You've done this before?” Your voice squeaks as it comes out. You don't want to know the details. But you can't stop the words from spilling from your lips. He stands and rings the sponge out into the sink, watching the red-tinted water swirl down the drain.
“Yes.”
“How many times have you-” You stop yourself finally. You don't want the answer to that one. You don't want the answer to any of these questions. Unconsciously, your mind still seems to piece together every strange thing he’s done and said to you.
Your half-sentence is replied to with silence. He goes on to finish cleaning you up, helping you in and out of the tub, and drying you as best he can. He wraps you in his own robe and brings you to the bedroom. You’re mortified when you notice him guiding you by your shoulders to avoid the bloody footprints still on the ground.
Some time passes. You sit empty-minded on the edge of the bed, your eyes gazing down into nothing. Alastor leans against the vanity across the small room from you. He runs his hands through his hair, pausing and clenching some strands in his fists before moving on.
“I can..get all your belongings together, find you a place to stay. I’ll do what I can to keep you safe.” He finally says, breaking the silence and your endless train of thought. His offer seems reasonable, but you still feel hurt.
“You want me to leave?” You ask quietly, gripping the edges of the robe and shrinking into yourself. He’s shocked by your response, you can hear it in his voice.
“You want to stay?” He asks in response.
“I.. I love you.” You say weakly. It stings to say it out loud. And even more so to hear it. “Will you hurt me? I-If I go to the police? If I rat you out..?” What are you doing? You can’t ask a murderer that. Your mind is running on fear, especially after what you just said. You feel his hand lightly lift your face to his, flinching slightly considering you hadn't noticed him approaching you.
“I would never hurt you. I’d spend my days rotting in a jail cell if it meant you’re safe..and happy. I love you, kitten.” You aren’t used to seeing this face. It’s almost emotionless. You start to picture this face carrying out his murderous intentions. But there's a crack in his psychopathic mask. There's a hint of softness and anguish at the sight of you.
“I don't.. I don't want to leave.” You take a hold of his hand, still shaking and clearly unsure of your words. You hear a soft hiss leave his lips, clearly trying to conceal his reaction to the unexpected. “I don’t want you to be in jail- or.. I suppose I don't want you to be caught..?” You groan, holding tightly onto his hand. “I’m so confused, Alastor. I want things to be normal. I want to go back to when you cooked for me, and.. And go back to planning- o-our elopement…” You let out weakly. He doesn't respond at first, you force your eyes up to meet his. He looks heartbroken at the sight of you.
“I just want to pretend that none of this happened..Please, stop this. F-for me, please don't do this anymore.” Your voice becomes a whisper. His hesitation only makes it all worse. He responds once he feels your grip on him loosen.
“Okay- okay. I’ll clean up this mess, and- I’ll stop. For you.” You manage to give him a weak smile, before resting your head against his chest. After holding you for a moment he settles you into bed after you had essentially fallen asleep in his arms. He does as promised. Mostly. He cleans up the mess at least.
The next morning, you wake up and hope everything that happened before a nightmare. But, you feel his robe still wrapped around you, then notice Alastor’s side of the bed empty. It's real then. It was too vivid. And if it's real.. Then he’s stopping. Because of you. It’s almost touching.
You go on about your day, and he greets you as if nothing is wrong, making your breakfast as usual. He’s chipper and goes on to chat about his plans for today. He’s pretending that nothing went on. How often has he done this? Convincingly pretend that he didn't take a life less than twelve hours ago?
It takes you a few days. A few months.. years, actually. To accept what he had done. You never forgave him, but you accepted it. You had to go on and enjoy your newly wedded life together, didn't you? Alastor had a broadcast to work on, an audience to appease, and you had to work as a physician, helping locals from within their homes. Besides, he stopped the murders after you caught him that one awful night, didn't he?
Didn't he?
Police are at your door. A nightmare of a sight. You open it, putting on your best face. It wasn't as easy as it used to be, but your smile still convinced the public. Leaning against the open door and batting your lashes you greet them sweetly. your face instantly fell to their words. You almost hoped that he had gotten caught. But he didn't.
He's dead.
“Shot in the woods, ma’am. A hunter mistook him for a deer in the dark.” you'd recall these words later, but for now, your ears were ringing and your mind was absent. You thanked them and shut the door.
You can't recall how loudly you screamed and sobbed, or for how long that went on. You need to be held. You need him to hold you and that only pains you more. You mourned for days, canceling appointments, and not answering any guests who were there to offer empty condolences. You rotted in his home. He was so young. You were both so young, there was so much to look forward to in your future. It's all gone now.
The first place you went to was Mimzy's bar. A few months had passed, and all your good liquor had run out. Plus, a familiar face could be a good change of pace right now.
“Oh, hun!” An immediate greeting at the door, Mimzy brings you to the bar. It's a late night on a workday, it was essentially empty. “I'm so sorry for your loss. Everyone in town is worried bout ya! I'm sure you don't wanna hear this, but how are you doin'?” She was right. You didn't want to hear that. You hated that question.
“Fine.” You say squeakly. It was the first word you had spoken in weeks, you realize. She slides you your drink and you immediately down it. She tops it off just for it to be finished off even faster than the last.
“Slow down, hun.” She says, sliding a glass of water to you next. When you drink it thoughtlessly, the absence of alcohol has you scrunching your nose. “I'm sure this isn't the best time, but.. I got somethin’ for ya.” She disappears into some backroom before reapproaching you and your barely touched glass of water. She places an enveloped letter in your hand. Your name written in neat cursive fills its front and your hands start to shake.
“It's from Al. He wanted me to give this to ya. If he ever.. well, if this ever happened.” as she's speaking, you've already opened it and begun reading.
It was instructions. And a large wad of cash. Above the instructions, A small blurb about how sorry he was, how much he loved you, and prayed that you'd never have to read this. Then a list of how to thoroughly clean and dispose of all evidence in his shed.
“Did you know?” you ask Mimzy, your hands crinkling on each side of the letter. She nods. “He never stopped, did he?” You say in a hushed tone, mainly in disbelief to yourself.
“Well- not exactly, no. he was finishing somethin' up in the forest that one night.” Mimzy talks as if she's practiced this conversation. He must've kept her up to date with all this.
“He told me he would stop. He said he was doing it for me-” You grip at your heart, letting out a shaky breath.
“What important is that he loved ya, right? He was an equal opportunity killer, hun, he only did what he had to. It was for the greater good, ya know?” Mimzy was speaking far too calmly about this. you let out a flurry of curses, shoving the crumpled-up instructions into your purse before standing at the bar.
“You're all fucking psychopaths!” You yell out to the empty bar and leave the building in a huff. 
You needed to leave town. The two people you were closest to were both criminals. And being in this house was only hurting you more. You packed as much as you could, hand hovering over the phone to call for a taxi. You freeze in place. Then see your ring. You look at it for a moment, the light giving it a beautiful shine. With a defeated sigh, you set your bags aside and pull the instructions back out from your purse, straightening it out as best you could.
After finishing a very thorough cleaning, and questioning your actions through it all, you did everything on the list. You burned the letter alongside some other items that he told you to dispose of. You still aren't sure why you did it. He was never caught before and he must have cleaned up his job in the forest before getting shot. Maybe it was for the best. Let his radio persona live on. Let it be the last nice thing you ever do for him. You finally leave that hellhole behind.
-
You went on to live another sixty years, quite a feat if you must admit. You weren't much of a religious person, so passing in your sleep and waking up in the streets of Pentagram City, was a bit of a shock. After accepting the idea of an afterlife, you put the little details together. You were sure after all that went down in your youth, you would end up here. And if you're here, then maybe..
There are more important things right now. Lucky for you, you fell right in the middle of a bustling street. You scramble to your feet and quickly escape the speeding cars. Why were there cars in Hell? Why did it look so much like a big city you would visit at some point, how is it so human? There was so much to question, but you were desperate to find any sort of sanctuary.
You weren't sure why your first thought was to find the nearest bar, but something seemed to bring you in. You're almost disappointed in yourself for stepping into a club decorated as a 20s speakeasy. But it was familiar- nostalgic. A shrill voice draws your attention.
"Oh my stars! Get over here, doll!" The shriek brings your attention to the bar, where a slightly familiar face greets you. “What are ya gawkin’ at? It’s me! Mimzy? Get that tail over here!” Mimzy owns a club even in Hell? You approach her after some more beckoning.
"Long time no see! How long you been in?" She goes on. You observe her appearance as she speaks. She looks almost the same. The red eyes and sharp teeth were definitely new. You realize you hadn't had the chance to take in your own appearance, but clearly, it must've been similar enough for her to recognize you. Still questioning your position, you finally process her words.
"Oh- I just arrived actually. Lucky me to walk straight into your bar, hm?" You lean against the counter as she pours you a drink, a flurry of trauma and nostalgia turns to confusion.
"Wow! You had quite a life after old Al got you outta town, didn't ya?” She teased. You let out a nervous chuckle. Good old Al. You haven't thought about him in years. You were so young, so head over heels for this man you barely knew. You somehow managed to suppress all the bad times as you aged. Mimzy notices your face droop a bit.
"I suppose I did.." a brief smile meets the wedding band still on your hand.
"Well? Finally gonna reunite? Ooh! How romantic! You'll have to update me, sweetie!" Mimzy bats at you, letting out an excited giggle. You quickly shake your head, not processing any other way to respond.
"I-I can't- I mean.. Not after everything he’s done.” Your hands clench at even the thought.
“Sorry to break it to ya, but we’re all for a reason. You got plenty of time to forgive him, with the whole eternal punishment of it all.” Mimzy’s tone drops to a more serious one as if she’s heard that line before. “Not everyone’s lucky enough to rot in Hell with someone they love, you should see what he’s up to!” Her tone seems to immediately switch to something more chipper.
“Still, I uh.. I shouldn't. He’s been dead for so long, I’m sure he’s got some other dame cleaning up his messes.” Excuses. You didn't want to see him, because this is his fault. You're here because you helped clean up his space after his unfortunate death. Even when you had no idea, he relied on you. He trusted you to carry this burden for the rest of your life. Your rage was suppressed when you heard Mimzy's voice chime back in.
"Nope! He's been busy with uh.. his work. Still wears the ring, though~" She hums, tapping her finger to emphasize her words. You look down at your own hand. Why did you still wear yours, again? You never remarried, but mainly because of the trust issues that were instilled in you for the rest of your life. Maybe it wouldn't be a terrible idea..
“N-No, I just cant..” You let out louder than you meant to. Mimzy shrugs off your panic. “You wouldn’t happen to have a spare room, would you, Mimzy?”
-
Mimzy did in fact have a spare room. You stayed in one of the ratty rooms about the bar, alongside some of the demons that rented the rooms for their own business. You realized, after finding a mirror, that you were portrayed with some feline features, nothing too disfiguring. Once you saw your new form, Alastor’s voice, every single time he beckoned you with kitten, rang throughout your mind. You couldn't bring yourself to look at yourself for the first few months. This was Hell after all. Eternal punishment can manifest in several ways.
Mimzy was still a clear supporter of Alastor, so she had a radio set up in your room already. No matter how hard you tried, you realize pretty early on that Alastor had some power over the radios that force his broadcasts to be the only thing streaming. You heard it all. The screams of souls being torn apart, his constant gossiping and cruel words making fun of other demons.
But damn, if it didn't feel like living again. Waking up every morning to the sound of his voice on the radio, before you can truly decipher what he’s talking about, it almost feels like a normal life. But then you hear the pain in those demons that he’s mercilessly tearing up. Sometimes, you see Mimzy cheering at the radio like some sports game is being narrated. You try to avoid her when she’s doing that.
Things were comfortable for many years. As comfortable as Hell can be, at least. Alastor became a distant part of your daily routine, you'd hear his broadcasts all the time, but only in addition to the other bustling city noises. It all seemed to cancel out after a while. You worked with Mimzy, picking up at the bar when she had to run off. In exchange, you stayed in that room indefinitely. You two seemed to become friends again, despite your living history. It became clear to you that what happened when you were alive really didn't matter down here. You all made the same degree of mistakes and you all learned that you’re here for the same reasons.
You went through extermination days as best you could, only having one face-to-face interaction. That day, you were already on the verge of death from falling debris and trying to escape a specifically insistent exorcist. She had you cornered. You shut your eyes, wincing at the upcoming angelic weapon you saw her raise at you. Only feeling a slight sting across the bridge of your nose and cheek, you open your eyes to see her flying back towards the portal to heaven. You can't believe you got that lucky. You’re still in disbelief at the entire scenario, but unlike most wounds down here, your face was permanently scarred. It was small, barely noticeable! Mimzy says.
But you knew not everyone had this much luck on extermination day. After noticing the silence on the streets, during the most recent extermination, you nervously left the bar. Everything was empty. The portal had opened closer to that hotel you’d heard of. And the exorcists were going straight to it. You scoffed, walking back into the bar. They’d finish off those demons there quickly, so you still wanted to hide. As you barred yourself up in your room, you remembered Mimzy telling you about her visit to that hotel. About why she visited the hotel. Alastor's there. You try to not panic. It’s been decades, why are you worried about him? Besides you know how powerful he is, you've picked up his whole radio demon shtick from others. He’ll be fine.
Then why are you so restless?
A loud knocking at your door shakes your entire core. You keep yourself hauled up in the corner of your room, covering your ears and squeezing your eyes shut. You still hear a voice call your name from the other side of the door.
“You gotta come see this! The angels are gone!” It's Mimzy. it's far earlier than usual, you were almost worried it was some new tactic they picked up. You crack the door open just slightly, and her small frame pummeled the door open. She paces your room, rambling words that you barely catch, and she shoves her phone to your face. You have to take it from her shaking hands to get a glimpse. It's hard to see, but it's very obviously footage of Alastor fighting Adam. His body is warped through the drone’s camera, and you watch him fade away into nothingness after one blow. There was no audio, You couldn't hear what happened. Considering you weren't familiar with his shadow antics, you had no idea what actually happened to him.
“You gotta find out if he's okay! I can't go back to that hotel, you gotta do it!” she sounds frantic, taking her phone back. “What? Absolutely not! I'm sure he's fine.” You wave your hand dismissively, despite the hesitance in your voice. Everyone's in Hell for the same reasons. Your mind goes back and forth on the possibility of forgiveness.. of mending burned bridges.
“The videos from a few hours ago, those angels are gone! Ooh.. He's just gotta be okay..” You didn't realize how much Mimzy actually appreciated Alastor. Whether it be the protection he offers or their actual friendship, you aren't sure. But she's clearly worried about him. You just aren't ready.
Mimzy spent the next few days begging you to go down there and find him. And you refused every time. She mentioned going to Cannibal Town to visit his "Gal Pal" and even she hadn't heard from him. He's disappeared before, just recently too, You're sure it was just like his last seven-year absence. Even if you were getting a bit worried, you'd never admit it. There were no broadcasts, there was no public trash-talking from the Vees, it was just.. quiet.
“Didn't you love him?” You stare at Mimzy, in disbelief that she just said that.
“Excuse me?” That seemed to strike a nerve. And maybe she meant to do that.
“I remember you two in my bar, you were two peas in a pod! I've never seen him like that with any gal, hun. That's not somethin' that just goes away.” Mimzy takes your hand from across the bar. “Please, go check on him. Maybe it'll be like a final hurrah, but I just gotta know if he's okay.” You look around the room as if someone would offer to go in your place. But she's right. And you'd be lying if you said you weren't missing his broadcasts. You let out a dejected sigh.
“Okay.. okay! Fine.” You huff. An immediate change in attitude, Mimzy lets out an excited exclamation and pours the two of you drinks, to celebrate her pushy victory.
-
You take in a deep breath, looking around the new hotel's exterior. It was much larger than the previous one and more lavish. You hesitate before knocking on the door. A series of whispered voices, then scrambling feet, follow the door opening. It's the princess of Hell. You weren't expecting Alastor to greet you, but you still feel a bit disappointed.
“Hello! Welcome to the Hazbin Ho-” You quickly interrupt.
“No! Nono, sorry.” You laugh Nervously. “I'm not here for the whole.. redemption thing. Is.. uh…” You peek around her shoulder, seeing a few demons you recognize from the commercial, but no Alastor.
“Is the radio demon here..?” You finally ask quietly. Charlie still seems a little hurt from the interruption, but just because you're not interested in redemption doesn't mean she won't try to convince you.
“Alastor? Sure! He's been in his tower since we reopened.. So, he's probably up there.” She explains, pulling you into the building despite your refusal. “I can go get him for you! What's your name? I'll tell him who-”
"That's actually okay! I was sent to check up on him, so.. if he's alive, then that's all I need to hear!” Mimzy will just have to be satisfied with that. You're chickening out. If they're saying he's fine, then that's good enough for you. The longer you're here, the more anxious you're becoming. You're worried he could pop out of nowhere. Which is a legitimate concern apparently. 
“Charlie!” A greeting comes from behind the blonde, and you see a red-clawed hand engulf her shoulder. “Already a new resident? How exciting! What unfortunate sinner has found themselves here as a last resort.. today…” 
You know that voice. Of course, you know that voice. He looks fairly similar to how he did when he was alive, the hair was new. Ditto the antlers. A deer? They turned him into a deer down here? You almost want to laugh. Maybe being in Hell for so long has turned your sense of humor that crude. You're staring with wide eyes. He whispers your name so quietly that all you can really take in is his lips forming the word.
“Hey, Al! She was just looking for you! I think she might be worried, right?” 
Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up-
“I.. was! But I see he’s clearly fine now, so! I should get back to Mimzy’s-” 
“Mimzy? You're with that trainwreck?” a low voice comes from the bar, interrupting the conversation. The cat demon behind the counter scoffs at you. “Nice ears.” They fold down involuntarily from embarrassment.
“Kitten.” You immediately turn at the sound of Alastor’s voice, shivers thoroughly covering your body. He opens his mouth as if to say something, but it clamps shut. His eyes widen for a moment, looking around the room to see how almost every resident had gathered to witness the new face. You start to back away to the door.
“This may not have been the best idea.. T-thank you, princess, it was nice meeting you.” with a blink of your eye, Alastor’s arm is around your shoulder. 
“Why of course! Thank you for visiting! I'll escort you out!” His chipper attitude startles you, and you feel almost insulted by his eagerness to have you leave.
“Oh! Well.. come back anytime! Our doors are always open!” You hear Charlie call out as Alastor takes you outside the building. Before you even have a chance to protest, you're suddenly in a recording room. Your mouth is still open ready to scold him, but instead, you examine the dizzying change in scenery. Your eyes finally drop to Alastor, who had taken both your shoulders and let his head drop from your view. He startles to mumble.
“W-What are you-”
“Why didn't you tell me you were here?” His head finally lifts and you catch his perplexed expression. Pained eyes paired with a strained smile, it's almost frightening.
“W-Well, I.. it was just-” 
“When did you arrive?”
“A few.. decades ago..?”
“Decades?” His voice goes low and static. You pull away from his grasp as his voice changes. “You shouldn't be here. There has to be a mistake.” His voice returns to normal, and he starts to pace the room. Mumbling more nonsense to himself, he starts gripping at his hair. 
You watch this for a while, before finally approaching him. You take hold of his arm, effectively stopping him in place. Pulling down his arm, you feel the grasp on his hair loosen.
“Calm down. You're pulling your hair out, again.” You say softly, brushing his hand clean of stray hairs he had torn out. Reaching forward you attempt to brush his hair back into place. Your hand pauses, hovering just by his cheek. You want to hold him. He seems to follow your hand when you decide to quickly distance yourself.
His eyes look bloodshot and demonic. How could you still possibly be getting lost in them?
“You shouldn't be here, kitten. You’re here because of me.” You flinch at his words, despite how true they are, you manage to feel some underlying guilt.
“Yeah.. Mimzy just wanted to know if you were alright. And you seem just fine. I should go.” You say bluntly, taking hold of your arms and going towards the door.
“Why didn't you find me?” His words cause you to stop.
“Sorry, you weren't exactly the first thing on my mind when I woke up in Hell.”
“Kitten, I-” His voice seems to drop the radio static. It sounds entirely too familiar.
“-don't call me that.” You snap, biting at your lip unconsciously.
“I'm sorry.” He finally says. “It was.. irresponsible of me to lie to you. I made a mistake.” He sounds more embarrassed to admit he messed up. His ego makes you scoff.
“Yes, it was irresponsible. It was downright cruel, Alastor. I had to live with the burden of your murders and had to die with the consequences.” You turn back to face him, a rage that had been boiling for decades finally spilling over. “I did so much good after you died. It has to be your fault I'm here. I never told the cops, I followed your ridiculous instructions, and it was the worst decision of my life! And now I'm paying for it. For being too far in love to realize that you were just using me!” You've had this conversation in your head so many times, that you have no issue saying exactly what you want.
“No!" He stops himself before he can shout anything else. "I assure you, that isn't the case at all. I love you more than I can put into words, kitten, can't we just-” Alastor reaches his hand out to you and you quickly lean away. You spot the ring on his finger.
“Love? You used me to make sure your record stayed clean! That's not love.” You hiss.
“I did it to protect you. I gave you everything you needed to remove yourself from the situation if anything were to happen to me. You said you went on to do good, and I believe you. That was because of me! The letter and the money were both for your safety- I was helping you.” He isn’t exactly shouting, but his tone is certainly sending chills down your spine.
“You don't get to take credit for my life! I should have never come!” You fling your arms up, turning back to the door. He grabs your arm and turns you back to him, a tight grip on your shoulders. He opens his mouth to seemingly scold you, and you're ready to bite back. You notice him scanning over your facial features, and his expression seems to falter.
“What happened to you?” He runs a clawed finger delicately across the scar on your cheek. It had faded but was still visible. You wince at his touch, which makes him pull his hand back.
“Oh, don't act like you care.” You mumble.
“Of course, I care.” His soft response forces a pained groan from your lips. 
“All these sweet words you’re saying.. I-I don’t know what to think with that ridiculous smile.. I can't take you seriously!” Your voice is beginning to crack, losing the strength to have this go on.
“About that-”
“I hate you.” He flinches at your words, Out of everything you’ve said, you don't understand why that seems to silence him. He grips onto his chest, his coat and shirt scrunching into his fist. You watch him drop his head, bracing himself on his desk that he had stumbled to. You’re sure he’s being dramatic. Hamming it up to get some sort of pity. A sigh passes your lips.
“Um.. Alastor… I didn't mean to-” His act only fools you a little bit. You wonder if you’ve let out too much steam. If he really-
Before you can finish any other thoughts, he collapses to the floor.
“Fuck-” You quickly move to his side, flipping him to his back and helping him at least prop himself up against a wall. “Should I get-”
“Don't tell the others.” He breathes out, putting his hand up dismissively. With the wave of his hand, you see the blood across his palm. Your eyes follow the source to a continuously growing stain on his top. The sight of blood didn't seem to bother you after everything. “Just help me up.” 
“O-Okay.” You do as he says, helping him stand. Almost feeling like an instinct, you pull his coat off of his shoulders. He struggles to keep up with the movement but still gives in. He quickly loses his strength and stumbles to the small couch nearby. You almost enjoy watching him stubbornly refuse your help.
“I.. might require.. some assistance.” He says it so softly you almost want to ask him to repeat himself. Even if you understood him just fine.
“You're asking for help?” You correct him, placing your hands on your hips.
“I don't need help.” He snaps. You would've been offended if you knew he was just to flustered to admit it.
“Then what do you need?” You sit beside him on the couch, placing your hand on his blood-stained shirt. He immediately winces.
“For.. you to stitch this up.” You start unbuttoning his shirt, your hands grazing the fluff of his chest with a mild curiosity. You finally get the full scope of a completely untreated slash that would've surely killed any human if left untreated. But for an almost immortal demon, it was just a painful nuisance. Very painful.
“From your fight with… You want me to help you stitch this up?” You ask because that it seems near impossible to do so, even with someone of your medical history. It's wide and seems to be covered with specks of gold. It feels like small shards of glass when you swipe your hand over him.
“.. yes.” He says quietly. You let out a breathy chuckle, shaking your head at him. He’s reckless, too stubborn to have looked at the wound because of its reminder of his defeat. And you know that's exactly why it got this bad. No matter how small, Alastor sees the smile growing on you.
“I missed your smile.” He says softly.
“Please stop saying things like that.. You're confusing me.” You make sure to speak your words quietly as if you don't want them to be heard. A small demonic creature rushes to your side, holding a tray up with the essentials to properly treat the slash. It stays perfectly still once in your reach.
You went to work, after some proper scolding, trying your best to keep the process as painless as possible. Every so often, you wonder why you are being so careful with him. He doesn't deserve your tenderness. Your thoughts are stopped when you see his hand wrap around your wrist, pulling you away. His face is scrunched, a hiss passing by his tormented smile. You must've hit the wrong spot while lost in thought. Your eyes fall to his ring, again.
“Why did you keep this on?” You ask, examining his hand that’s still engulfing your wrist.
“It reminds me of you. And yours?” His voice is hushed, still recovering from the pain. You realize he has a full view of your own hand, your wedding band sitting just as clear to him.
“It.. reminds me of what you did to me.” You hear a quiet groan in response to your words, and he releases your arm, gripping the couch in its stead. You keep going.
“I'll admit, I was worried about you.. after the battle with Adam. Maybe it was Mimzy getting me all worked up..” You finally admit. You don’t want him to think you’ve spent your whole life and death hating him. But why would it matter either way?
“I can't be killed, you had nothing to worry about.” He replies, not willing to comment on your sudden vulnerability. Not in this position. All you can do is laugh at him. He's clearly talking out his ass.
“Looks like you got pretty close to it.” You scoff. His ears flatten, and he looks away like a stubborn child.
You finish up after an hour. It felt much longer. The silence with quiet quips mixed in, the surprisingly intimate moment, it was suffocatingly uncomfortable.
“I didn't want to come here. I was perfectly content in being in Hell. I didn't expect this form of torture.” You say, setting everything back onto the little tray presented to you. That little demon had been standing there this whole time. You notice it started shaking a while ago.
“Come now, you're being dramatic. You chose to find me, did you not?” He says, sitting a bit taller with the regained strength.
“I'm not being dramatic! You try to avoid Mimzy's constant nagging! I hear your voice everywhere, see all the ads for this hotel, and they made me a damn cat, Alastor!” You feel yourself starting to lose your composure, gripping your hair and letting out a pained laughter. “H-how unfair is that..?” You let out a weak chuckle, feeling tears well in your eyes. He pulls your hand away from your hair, brushing his thumb across your ring as he holds you for a moment longer.
“Completely unfair. Your appearance may be.. unappealing … to you, but your face is still the same. Your eyes still bright as usual, your smile just as sweet.” His sincerity is muddling your thoughts. Those thoughts that warn you he’s hurt you before. And now he’s a cruel overlord, he’ll hurt you again tenfold. You feel his thumb drag along your lip after realizing you had leaned in towards him.
“Still biting your lip, hm?” His static fades again, and you wince at the raw skin he's brushing over. Old habits apparently don’t die hard.
“N-nervous tick, I guess..” His closeness leaves you a bit breathless.
“Do I make you nervous?” His tone confuses you. There’s an underlying sense of worry, a genuine concern for your well-being. But you’re still distracted by his strange smile. You don’t have much time to think any further about it before you’re startled by gentle lips against yours. It’s quick but is more than enough to let out a flood of feelings you’ve been suppressing since the day you left your hometown. He looks at you with a sly smile on his face.
“I’m still mad at you.” You say quietly.
“I know.” He kisses you, again.
“Y-You don’t have to-” He interrupts you with another kiss.
“I know.” Still holding your face you barely take in his next words with a clear head. “I miss you.” Another kiss, just to throw you off this time, “I miss having you at my side.
Stay.. please.”
There was no way you would drop everything to live with a man you were barely married to in life. That didn't stop you from seeing him more, though. You were actually.. kind of glad to see him. To patch things up, even just a little. You’d visit, sneaking around at first to avoid any interaction from the other residents of the hotel. They were all more than intimidating to you. Especially considering one of them was the king of Hell. Alastor was more than happy to keep you away from him, though.
You updated Mimzy on how he was when you left that first night, but you left out the unimportant bits.. Like the giant angelic slash across his chest. You didn’t need Alastor to tell you that you shouldn't be going around spreading that information. A true accomplice. When Mimzy noticed you were visiting him to the point where you couldn't cover the bar when she needed you to, she was more than happy to kick you out. You knew exactly what she was doing. She didn't want you homeless, but you were essentially left with nowhere to go. Except for the hotel.
It wasn’t the worst thing to happen.. Things almost seemed normal. Alastor had lots of sucking up to do, even though he wouldn't call it that. He was definitely working at it. Making you breakfast like before, treating you like even higher royalty than he ever could while alive. He has the power to do so now and he fully intends to use it. And it’s working.. A little bit.
Okay, a lot.
You’re shocked that he still seems the same after becoming the powerful overlord he is. You’d love to convince yourself that none of that mattered, his status in Hell or what happened when you were alive. That you could just forget mortality to look forward to the potential future facing you. It’s easier said than done.
You're still struggling with your nightmares. Even more so in Hell, likely another form of punishment. Something about the hotel seemed to subdue some of them actually. As if the air were clearer here. It only helped most nights, though. Whenever you woke up in a cold sweat, struggling to breathe, clutching at your heart, there was only one thing to calm you. The radio at your nightstand would play a specific song. One that Mimzy was fond of, so you heard it most nights at her bar on Earth. Whenever you heard that, you knew he was there. He was waiting for you.
"Birdy?" You knock on his door, which seems to open slowly just from your touch. Alastor is sitting contently in front of his firepit. This wasn't the first time you've found him in the middle of the night.
"Another one, my love?" He tilts his head up slightly, the book he had in his hand shutting immediately. You nod your head slowly, already approaching him. Your blanket still wrapped around your shoulders is dragging across the ground. You give him a look he recognizes, and he nods at the implications. Without caution, you let out a tired whimper and plop into his lap. He pulls the blanket over your entirety.
Getting completely comfortable, he adjusts his arms to pull his book back to his eyeline. With your head nuzzled against his shoulder, you're too tired to conceal your little habit of purring. He doesn't mind, though. He loves it.
♡♡♡
Another big boy for ya 🫶
Human Alastor is really fun to write for, I had to do some research tho lol
I tried to keep Alastor's sexuality in mind, so I hope I represented it well. That's always something that makes me nervous when writing for Al 😬
Taglist!
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sweetcarolina-24 · 2 days
Note
Hi! Could I request something for Cassian, where his petit mate likes his wight on him for the security, comfort, like she wants him to lay on top of her and put his weight on her because it's comforting and helps when she gets overwhelmed, kind of like a weighted blanket.
Safe
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Cassian x Petite Reader
a/n: So sorry it has taken me so long to get to my requests. I know I haven't been super active lately lol. So sorry. Trying to be active again over the summer, so please send requests. This might be short.
cw: just fluff
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After a long day at work, all you wanted to do was collapse on the couch.
But today had been worse than most. You had been on your feet for hours. The coffee shop you worked at had been understaffed, leaving you to be berated by customers all day long.
You just wanted to burst into tears and go somewhere quiet. Usually, Cassian got home late, so it would just be you. Alone.
But when you walked into the door of your small apartment, the smell of steak wafted towards you. Your brows furrowed, and you stepped over to the kitchen.
Cassian was standing at the stove with an apron on, stirring a pot of mashed potatoes. Steak and potatoes--your favorite meal.
"You're home early," you observed, putting your bag down.
"I passed by the coffee shop, and I saw how busy it was," he explained. "I figured you would be too tired to cook."
"Thank you," you smiled, a blush creeping onto your cheeks.
You'd been mated for a year, but you had yet to get used to the little acts of kindness he did for you.
"It'll be about 20 minutes before it's ready," he informed you, taking his apron off. "Are you okay, sweetheart?"
"It was a long day," you grumbled, taking a few steps back to the living room.
You laid down on your cozy, green couch, stretching your legs out. He smiled, knowing exactly what to do.
Cassian was much larger than you. You were very short for a High Fae, and did not weigh much, either. Cassian was always forcing you to eat--trying to fatten you up, as he said. But nothing really worked.
But you loved the size difference between the two of you. It comforted you, and made you feel safe. Having a mate as big as he was meant he could protect you from nearly any danger. And it was a good thing, too, since being mated to one of the most powerful Illyrian Generals alive put a big, red target on your back.
He laid down on top of you, letting his weight rest on you. You could handle his weight, in fact, you loved it. It made you feel secure, and it calmed you down after a stressful day.
He wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled his head in your neck, pressing kisses to the skin. You giggled, his stubble tickling you as it brushed against your neck. You ran your hands through his hair, savoring his weight on you.
"I love you, Cass," you mumbled. "Thanks for making my day better."
"Always, baby."
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simplybakugou · 2 days
Note
Could you do another drink bakugo?
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⋆ PAIRING: drunk/prohero!bakugou x fem!reader ⋆ WARNINGS/TAGS: swearing; alcohol; all characters are adults ⋆ WORD COUNT: 3003
A/N: taking a break from mystic academia cause this has been sitting in my inbox for so long and i wanted to save it until i got some inspiration for another drunk!bakugou and i finally found the inspo hehe. also when i first started writing drunk!bakugou oneshots, i was 17 LMAO and now as a 23 y/o that has actually been drunk i can write this a little more accurately lol. also i was struggling trying to end this cause i didn’t want it to be longer than it already is (imo) lol so im sorry for the awkward ending. ty for requesting and i hope you enjoy!
© simplybakugou — all rights reserved. DO NOT REPOST/REUPLOAD, TRANSLATE, OR EDIT ANY OF MY CONTENT ON HERE OR ANY PLATFORM
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It was a stupid idea. Why the hell would Bakugou go into a bar with the most loud and raucous people he knew even though he’d never drank a day in his life?
He couldn’t think of something he wanted to do less in that moment. He was exhausted, coming from a day of patrolling and hero work. Although his friends also came from their jobs, they actually drank alcohol and wanted to unwind after five years of constantly overworking themselves.
“Are you really not gonna get anything, Katsuki?” Sero questioned, giving the table’s drink orders to the bartender.
“I’m not fucking up my body just to look like an idiot like you dumbasses,” Bakugou huffed, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back in his chair. 
“Why’d you come then?” Kaminari quipped, interested in hearing Bakugou’s answer.
“Cause your dumbass wouldn’t stop bothering me about coming out tonight!” Bakugou replied angrily.
“Oh yeah!” Kaminari exclaimed, laughing at himself. “I forgot.”
“It’s good to come out with us once in a while,” Kirishima said, nodding his head. “You’ve been working yourself to the bone since we graduated, man. We haven’t seen you in years.”
Bakugou rolled his eyes. “Don’t be fucking ridiculous. I’m not stopping until I’m number one. You shits can drink all you fucking want but I’m not gonna sit around every week just to catch up.”
Kaminari sighed, shaking his head. “This is why you’ve never had a girlfriend.” Sero nodded along with him.
“And what the fuck does that have to do with anything?” Bakugou snarled, slamming his fist against the table out of annoyance.
“You’re a workaholic, dude,” Sero stated matter-of-factly. “When are you gonna have the time to date? If you slowed down a little you could’ve at least gone out with Y/N back when you had a crush on her in U.A.”
“I did not have a crush on that shitty girl.” Bakugou felt himself getting even more angered just hearing your name uttered. 
“You keep telling yourself that,” Kirishima said, patting his friend on the shoulder only to get shook off by Bakugou. 
The drinks Sero ordered arrived and the rest of the guys cheered each other before downing their beverages. Bakugou sipped on his water he was forced to get after Sero berated him to order something.  
The more alcohol his friends consumed, the more rowdy and even more raucous they got and Bakugou questioned even more why he decided to go out with them. It was karaoke night at the bar and Bakugou swore his ears were bleeding as Kaminari consistently kept attempting to serenade him.
Despite how chaotic it was in the bar that night, Bakugou eventually found himself enjoying it. Kaminari and Sero got the most drunk, getting up to dance and stumbling over one another, which made Bakugou and Kirishima burst into laughter. He would never tell them, but he needed this time out and away from the constant need to work towards his one and only goal. 
The night was going great; until the door to the bar opened. Bakugou turned his head to the noise of the bell ringing above the door. It stuck out amongst the voices and loud nature of the room and he felt his face drop at the sight.
There you were, five years older than the last time he had seen you in person. And you weren���t alone as your arm was looped around the arm of another man.
Bakugou couldn’t help but stare at the sight. He drowned out the sounds of Kaminari, Sero, Kirishima, and a few strangers they had recruited at the bar playing drinking games as his focus was only on you. You scanned the area, waving shyly to a few people that recognized you as their favorite rising hero and sat in the corner of the room with your mystery man.
Kirishima glanced at Bakugou, recognizing that he was distracted by something else and looked towards what had caught his eye. He immediately understood the reason for the defeated look on his friend’s face.
“I’m sorry, man,” Kirishima stated simply. 
“Sorry?” Bakugou scoffed. “For what? There’s nothing to be sorry about. We were never together.” The last part Bakugou muttered to himself as he finally tore his eyes away from you and down to his glass of water.
And it was true; you and Bakugou were never together back when you attended U.A. with him and the others. Matter of fact, you didn’t even know Bakugou liked you back then as he made it his mission that you never found out. Not only did he refuse to let himself be subjected to such vulnerable feelings like love and infatuation, you and your peers were constantly bombarded with hero work and dealing with the League of Villains to ever have the time for confessions. At the time, romantic relationships were trivial. 
As things died down by the time class A graduated, Bakugou busied himself with his long-time goal of wanting to become the number one hero. He kept telling himself that it was time to grow up and forget about what he assumed to be a little crush but the more he kept shoving his feelings inside, the more intense they became.
That was why it felt like a punch to the gut to see you laughing with and leaning onto a man that wasn’t him. 
“Hey, dunce face,” Bakugou grunted. Kaminari lifted his head and looked over at Bakugou with hazy eyes. “Get me the strongest drink here.”
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“Dude, you really should slow down,” Kirishima urged, concerned as he watched Bakugou down shot after shot. “You’ve never drank before and this’ll probably mess you up fast.”
“I don’t give a fuck,” Bakugou said in a rush, out of breath from the abundance of liquids he furiously ingested. He held the next shot glass to his lips, preparing himself to throw it back along with the countless shots he had already done; he felt like he was going to be sick, to no one’s surprise. Bakugou slammed the shot glass down onto the table, still full of alcohol, and he slammed his head onto the table as well. His head was throbbing but he felt like he could float in the air if he really tried. 
Kirishima chuckled at his friend, taking advantage of the situation and taking the shot glass away from Bakugou. 
Kaminari swung his arm around Bakugou’s shoulders. “See, dude, now we’re having fun!” The last word was elongated as he let out a small hiccup.
“Get the fuck off of me, dunce face,” Bakugou mumbled with his head still on the table, causing his words to be muffled. Nevertheless, Kaminari knew exactly what his grouchy friend had said but ignored him.
For the first time that night, Kaminari looked around the room and noticed you sitting alone now in the corner of the bar. He shot up, waving his hand out at you. “Y/N!”
Bakugou’s eyes, which were once closed shut as the alcohol was rushing to his head all at once, shot wide open as he whipped his head up. He felt dizzy from how quick the motion was. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“Come on, man, she’s sitting over there all alone,” Kaminari reasoned, turning his attention back to you. You also had finally noticed your old classmates, smiling at the sight. “Hang out with us, Y/N!”
“Alone?” Bakugou questioned softly. He looked over at you and felt a wave of relief wash over him as he carefully watched you make your way to their table, mystery man out of the picture.
“I didn’t know you guys were here tonight,” you said with a smile. You sounded level-headed and Bakugou determined that you were probably the most sober person in the room that night.
“Yeah, we come here a lot after our patrol shifts,” Sero commented.
“All of you?” You questioned, interested as you scanned each of the guys sitting at the table. Finally you locked eyes with Bakugou and he swore your gaze could’ve pierced right through him. He broke eye contact first as he felt his face burning up even more with the effects of the alcohol. 
“We usually have to beg Katsuki to come out. You know how he is,” Kirishima teased, wanting to lighten the mood for his friend. It didn’t work as Bakugou still had a sour expression on his face.
“Wanna get a few drinks with us?” Kaminari offered.
You shook your head. “No, it’s alright. Tonight hasn’t gone the way I wanted so I think I’m going to call it a night. It was nice seeing you guys.”
You waved goodbye to the boys, sending a small smile towards Bakugou as you understood he was in a bad mood but not understanding why. Your back was turned to them as you walked towards the exit and it was a miracle how you didn’t have two vermillion holes in your back the way Bakugou was staring at you leaving.
Bakugou stood up abruptly and he grabbed his coat and wallet. He sloppily pulled out a few bills and slammed them on the table as he made his way out as well.
“Where are you going?” Kirishima questioned.
“Don’t worry about it.”
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You cursed at yourself for leaving your jacket in your date’s car as the winter snow began to litter the streets. Your body was shivering terribly. The bar had a few tables and chairs in front of the building and you sat yourself down as you contemplated how on Earth you were going to get home. 
Before you could come up with a game plan, you felt a heavy leather jacket plop down onto your shoulders. You jumped at the sudden contact, watching as a clearly drunk-but-pretending-to-be-sober Bakugou sat himself in the chair across from you. “Bakugou! What’re you doing here?”
Bakugou ignored your question as he bluntly asked, “Where’s that fucker you came in with?”
You were taken aback by his questions. Only a few minutes ago did you realize that Bakugou, Kirishima, Kaminari, and Sero were there in the bar with you that night. If he had seen you with your date, that meant Bakugou had seen you when you walked in. 
You sighed, leaning back in your chair and pulling Bakugou’s jacket closer to you as it kept you warm. “He was being… weird.”
“Weird how.” It was a question but you sensed the animosity in Bakugou’s tone as his expression harshened in a way that made his question a statement.
You waved your hands to calm him down. Why was he so upset? “Nothing bad, don’t worry. He’s just some guy I started dating. We weren’t official or anything but I liked him. He said he didn’t like me being a hero and said I should get a job that’d suit me in a feminine way.” You chuckled humorlessly as you recalled the misogynistic comment.
“What a fucking loser,” Bakugou grumbled, loud enough for you to hear and laugh at. He leaned back in his chair, resting his eyes. “You told him to fuck off, right?”
You nodded, amused as you always were back in U.A. with Bakugou’s colorful vocabulary. “Yup. He got pissed and left me here and I left my stuff in his car like an idiot.” 
Bakugou opened his eyes and reached into his front pocket, cursing at himself as his fingers kept missing the opening seam. He pulled out his car keys and tossed them onto the table. You furrowed your eyes at the sight in confusion.
“Take my car to get home.”
You widened your eyes at his insane proposition, looking at the insignia on his keys as an expensive brand. “Bakugou, your car’s worth like a hundred million yen! There’s no way I can drive that!” 
“Just do it, idiot,” Bakugou groaned, placing his forehead on the cold, snow-covered table. “Can’t let you just sit here in the cold.”
A moment passed as you were contemplating your choices only to realize in that time, Bakugou had fallen asleep. You chuckled softly, never expecting to see health-conscious Bakugou who’s always been adamant about never drinking inebriated. 
You grabbed his keys and put them in the pocket of his leather jacket, slipping the jacket onto your arms. You knew you couldn’t just take his car and leave him here like this so you got up and went over to his side, gently shaking his shoulders to wake him. “Come on, big guy. We’re going home”
Bakugou let out a groan as you got him to his feet, your arm around his shoulders and you wrapped his arm around your waist to support him, resting your hand on his hand. You felt his body stiffen in reaction and you looked up at him curiously. His face was red again and you assumed it was a combination of the alcohol and the frigidness in the air. It most definitely was not either of those things.
“Where’d you park your car?” You asked as you slowly helped him walk.
He nodded in the direction ahead of you and you assumed he was referring to the parking lot that was thankfully right next to the bar. The two of you continued walking towards the lot and you found it unusual how quiet Bakugou was.
Once reaching the lot, you were originally going to search for Bakugou’s car only to not have to put any effort at all since his bright red sports car stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the Subarus and Toyotas.
You laughed, shaking your head. “Why am I not surprised by this at all, Bakugou.”
Bakugou flinched and he slowly pulled away from you, shoving his hands in his pockets as he wobbly made his way to his car. “Stop calling me that.”
“What? You don’t want me to call you Bakugou?” You question, confused. “Oh! I get it. You want me to call you by your hero name, right, Dynamight?”
“That’s not it either, idiot.”
“Oh, then, Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight?”
“You’re so stupid.” Bakugou stopped right in front of his car and turned around, slowly so that he wouldn’t fall over. He had his signature frown on his face only this time it was out of frustration. “Back in U.A. you’d call me Katsuki.”
“Yeah, I guess I did,” you said, nodding your head as you recalled doing so. “But that was five years ago. I haven’t seen you since then and I just wanted to be polite.”
Bakugou kept quiet but his eyes never faltered or wavered as he kept them on you. You felt like he could burn right through you if he tried as you didn’t understand his frustrations. “Is everything okay, Ba– I mean, Katsuki.”
Bakugou’s eyes slightly widened for a moment and he felt like he was transported back to being a teenager. “No. Everything’s not okay ‘cause I still have this stupid crush on you that I’ve had since our first year in U.A.”
He let out a sigh, feeling a weight on his shoulders dissipate and he turned around back towards his car. You stood in place, shocked at the confession that you did not foresee at all. There was no way the Bakugou Katsuki had a crush on you, especially when you were just teenagers.
“Open the door.” Bakugou turned his head to you as he waited by the passenger door.
“Wait, wait, wait.” You waved your hands in front of you, still unable to wrap his words around your head. “This has to be a joke. There’s just no way– Why would you have a crush on me?”
Bakugou shrugged. “Dunno. Just happened.”
Your face felt hot and it wasn’t because of the weather. So much of your relationship with Bakugou made sense with this new realization. The reason for his cold shouldering you on numerous occasions or annoyed stares he’d give you when you got in a relationship in your second year all started to make sense. It was his way of conveying his feelings for you. 
You shook your head, shaking the complex thoughts from your mind and snapping yourself back to reality as the cold air and Bakugou not having a jacket, since you were obviously wearing it, made you unlock his car with the key he gave you. You watched as Bakugou entered his car on the passenger side.
You knew you needed to give yourself a minute before you could enter the car beside him. How did you feel about him? You always thought he was handsome, when he wasn’t scowling at least, and you enjoyed seeing him mature every year in U.A. Even after graduation, you always watched the news fondly as you watched him evolve into an incredible hero, one that you knew was worthy of becoming number one. 
So Bakugou Katsuki liked you. If your poor previous relationships taught you anything, it was to not turn down a good man when he was right in front of you. Or at least sitting in his sports car waiting for you to drive the two of you home since he was unexpectedly inebriated to do so himself. 
Taking in a breath, you knew what you had to do; you wanted to see where this would go between the two of you. You opened the driver’s side door, sitting in your seat and collecting your thoughts briefly before turning to Bakugou to tell him exactly what was on your mind. You wanted to give it a shot.
And you were intent on doing just that until you turned to look at Bakugou only to see he was once again fast asleep, his chest rising and falling. You chuckled at the sight, taking in how adorable he was in that moment. Slipping his jacket off your body, you draped it over his body.
“Guess you’ll have to stay with me tonight.”
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appleblueberry-pie · 3 days
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They usually show Gojo as the dominant one in the relationship, someone who is only with you for a while, but what if it were the other way around, if the reader took that role and Satoru couldn't get over what they did to him? ? (I think I need to stop imagining scenarios with this guy 😔)
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Sorry, I Guess. Lol.
Satoru couldn't just ignore this feeling in his chest. It wasn't strong, but he really couldn't control it even if he wanted to. It was like a piece of metal was stuck in his chest and no matter how much he shifted or rubbed at that spot, the feeling wouldn't go away. And he only felt it when he was around you. That annoying feeling.
You always drove him around. Said that it would be a hassle waiting for him, when you knew he had a thing for always being late. And you always found him, even if his location was off on his phone. A mysterious one, you were. That's what he's supposed to do.
You drove with that left hand on the steering wheel and the other hand on the stick, a little smirk on your face. Almost half of the time that you two were together, he never had your full attention. There was always those few moments where you had to take(a very loud and exciting looking) phone call or just texting your little friends or whoever was making you smile like that.
You never had minded him. It was like he didn't matter that much.
You paid for his food too. He never liked it. He always had the money to pay for both of your plates, but you never ever settled for letting him pay for everything. You said you hated feeling like you owed someone. He told you a million times you don't owe him a dime but you always persisted. The most he ever got out of you was letting you two split the bill.
He hated you. Your personality. How he couldn't ever just have you. You weren't emotionally available. What was the point of dating you if he wasn't gonna have your damn time? It was a waste of his own, dammit, and he hated every second of it. But the more he tried to detach from you.....the more he realized he couldn't.
He really really liked you. He enjoyed your suave personality and effortless movements and charismatic energy that you poured into the conversations you had with him. He was the one that usually radiates energy in the friend group, but when he's around you, you seem to be able to dim him down and steal the spotlight. He can't ever take it back either. You're just that good.
He can't have you and he realizes that. He also realized that when you ghost him on all apps. When he tries to get back in touch but you block him for blowing up your line. He tries to get back in touch when he realizes you never told him anything about your personal life and it was extremely hard to find out where you worked or anything. And it was really hard to find where you lived when he realized you didn't even live in the city you took him all around.
You're probably a player, but he didn't care. He loves how you ignore him. Honestly, he wants you to do more damage, he wants to keep you around just to repeat what you two had again. He wants to see your face when you realize he's an actual weirdo stalker that's most likely obsessed with you.
You two never fucked and you made it clear with your body language that you never wanted him like that in the first place and he was just your decoration for a few weeks. But he didn't want to be like those temporary tattoos. He didn't wanna be henna either. He wanted to be painfully embedded in your skin for so long, that even though he might fade years later, that pigmentation on that one part in your skin will always stick around to tell the tale.
He just wants to be yours.
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nor-4 · 3 days
Note
Hey pretty do you still take requests? If you do please write something about Lewis Hamilton x Fem Reader and their relationship is like that one video of rihanna and asap where rhi is looking lusty at asap. Lmao I'm bad at explaining I'm sorry, anything will do tbh i trust you. 🥰
Those sinful eyes - Lewis Hamilton x Fem!Reader
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ᝰ.ᐟ A/N: Oh i just know what you mean lol. All the requests in my account got deleted and this is recent so if you are one of those peeps who sent me a requests back then you are free to send it again, I'm very sorry for the long take. 💋
ᯓ★ One of the things you can use against lewis is your eyes. They have a big impact on him it can be staring up at him or staring down at him.
"Don't move so much babe, I'm trying to do your hair." You giggled as you place your feet behind your ass resting it on his knees to comfortably sit on his lap while he wiggled like a child, "I'm sorry missus." as his eyes traveled from your lips to your eyes.
"fuck.." he muttered looking at you breathlessly, "What you have a staring problem now?" you joked as your fingers made their way into his curls before carefully tugging a piece as you continued your work with braiding his hair since the fronts are the only thing that was left untouched.
"You are so beautiful and beautiful and beautiful." Lewis blabbed looking back at your left to right eyes as if he is watching a tug rope competition fighting over which side is he gonna look at with how close you are.
The biggest hate love he has on the way he folds quickly just by the eye contact. The intimate eye contact and smile does something to him that will make him want to go on convulsion.
George once pointed it out on him which became a whole joke on the grid.
"The family guy is here again." Max said as lewis approach the drivers who just sat down and talk after the practice race, "What do you mean, we don't have a kid yet?" lewis cluelessly said as he sat down between all of them.
"With how whipped you look at her oh you will be soon" George marked spreading his arms on the back of the chair to welcome lewis more to share a detail about both of yours relationship. "Have you seen how his girl look at her? If she looked at me that way i would even faint, lewis is just a humble guy." Lando pointed out to side lewis and to give him a concrete reason on why lewis acted like that when you look at him.
"I mean have you seen lewis? I would look at him that way too" max stated before sipping his redbull.
ᯓ★ Get dressed, get your nails done, buy all your make up, own him up.
Another weakness of his is seeing you all ready and pretty for somewhere you guys are going for a date or whenever you go to the paddock.
"Hey guys i wasn't informed we are all meeting in here." Lewis entered as the laughter and talking went down to silence, "What's that on your face?" Lando was the first one to speak up which broke the silence.
"What what??" Lewis asked as he rose his phone up using it as a mirror to look at himself
"That kiss mark.."
"Oh it's from my missus." Lewis answered confidently before sitting down as a big smile still plastered on his face like a kid who's proud of his medal, "Yeah of course.." George bitterly said rolling his eyes and smacking his lips.
"Wow the missus really wifed you up."
That's one of his title that he is very proud of, hell have you guys checked on lewis when both of you first talked? He is very proud of it bragging it to everyone as if he won the most luckiest man alive. What worse when you said yes to his proposal of being your boyfriend who will definitely be your husband soon.
One of his dream is making a family with you, finally hearing his surname beside your name.
"Hello Mrs. Hamilton you look beautiful in that dress." Lewis addressed walking at your back feeling his palms on your back like he is sculpturing like those statues in museum, "Thank you Mr. Hamilton, you look handsome as ever.." You complimented back placing your hand on his face caressing his jaw and cheeks, holding up an eye contact on him with pure admiration.
"Of course i do, you are the one who picked my outfit" he commented and yes he lets you pick on what he wears. There are times where both of you wear a matchy outfit or just a same color shirt just so people can't tell you both apart. "Did you like it?"
"Oh i love it Mrs. Hamilton, look how good we look besides each other" He kept the nickname before looking at both of you in the mirror holding your waist like the mirror will take a picture any time moment. "I think something is missing hmm.." he said looking at you.
"What do you mean, you look really good." You muttered looking back at him, "My kiss.." he pouted as you smack his chest feeling a sigh of relief. "Darling you scared me" you giggled before grabbing his face with one hand and placing a kiss on his cheek.
Looking at the pigment that rests on his face is like looking at the painting of work from the history. The memories and moments of how many times you have did this, it's like reminding everyone that you own him, The seventh time world champion who makes everyone know that he can't function without feeling the affection you give to him by the daily basis.
"How i love looking at that on my face everyday, God knows you will walk down the aisle as a scene and confirmation to everyone that i am gifted with a gorgeous wife like you."
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bvidzsoo · 1 day
Text
Love Me Like A Rockstar (9)
Chapter 9: You (Show Me Where My Days Went)
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Author: bvidzsoo
Pairing: Song Mingi x female reader
Warning: cursing
Word count: 9.8k
Genre: university!au, enemies to lovers!au, rockstar!au
Summary: Love. You wanted none of it. You had already been heartbroken very badly once, you didn't wish to go through that ever again. But the Universe works in intricate ways and, somehow, you found yourself webbed up in a local rockstar's life, Song Mingi. He was everything you expected him to be, yet nothing like you imagined him he would be. What happens when you find mutual understanding and have heartful conversations? Will he be able to break down your walls? Will you be able to chase away his darkness?
A/N: Hi, lovelies!! LMLAR is BACK!! I am sooo happy I could finally update and just write, y'all have no idea! I am so sorry for making you wait so long for this update, but finishing my thesis was super important! I still have to study and such this month, but I promise next update won't take as long as this one did! (I'm writing other stories too while writing this one, so that kinda backfires sometimes lol) I am forever grateful that you are patient and stick around for the new chapters, this story is so dear to me you wouldn't even believe it. I am also super grateful and happy whenever you leave feedback, so please, keep on doing just that!<3 This chapter only exists because I was randomly inspired, and I'd like to apologize if it's a little rusty, I always have to get in "character" when I write this story lol. I am soo excited for next chapter, I think it's going to surprise you hehe. PLS PLS imagine that airport look from Mingi when reading this chapter, the pics from the moodboard, you'll see during which part! I also have a very small surprise at the end of this chapter hehe. I hope the time jumps aren't too confusing:(( Please, listen to the song called You before or while reading! Enough yapping, I hope you enjoy and leave feedback! (Taglist is always open for those interested! ^^)
Taglist: @orshii @or5i @lovely-red2 @scarfac3 @juicy-red
@sunaswifes-blog @voicesinmyhead-rc @teez-the-time @maru-matt @kyeos4ng
@deathbyyeekies @chicksmoothie @mjlbn01 @xhexy @tmtxtf
@hwashiningstar @thatfavouritesong @ateez-atiny380
⟨Series M.list ↭ Previous Chapter⟩
♫Playlist♫
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Later that day
I hate him: hey…just checking in that I got home safely what are u up to?
I blinked, fingers tightening around my phone before I locked it, leaving the message on unread. My mother’s shuffling outside my door caught my attention, bringing a smile onto my lips as I watched her struggle while bringing all the dirty laundry to the bathroom. Then, I got off my bed to go help her.
Friday (11:30 am)
I hate him: i see u still haven’t checked my message… nothing too worrisome u certainly know how to make a man yearn for you lol that was a joke…dont freak out on me pls (lowkey true tho)
Friday (12:50 pm)
I hate him: lol, wooyoung has been bitching about seulgi’s professor for half an hour now mr. kwon u know him? i mean…i suppose he also teaches u i should take a sneaky video for u…wooyoung looks like a clown hanging upside down my bed and pouting like a damn child too (dont say im also one, thanks)
Friday (15:26 pm)
I hate him: well…ik my messages are going through so uh… why tf are u ignoring me???! *cries and dies in loneliness* entertain me dollll!!! im so bored pls oh…u said u had an important assignment…i bet u’re busy with that sorry for spamming u (text back tho when u’re done, im dying here…wooyoung is with seulgi and so is seonghwa with hongjoong…the single life sucks, bestie…lets be single and depressed together<3)
My jaw clenched as I heaved a long sigh, falling back on my bed as the sun shone brightly through my open window, the light breeze making me shiver as I only wore a t-shirt and sweats. Autumn was slowly turning into winter; the weather wasn’t so warm anymore. I threw another look at my phone, unlocked it, and stared at the received messages from Mingi for a second before finally deciding to delete them from my notification center, rolling over in bed to muffle a frustrated scream into my soft, and purple, pillow.
            Saturday (9:09 am)
I hate him: i had the weirdest dream and im not even sure i want to tell u about it LOL but uh…a grisly was chasing me??? and then u appeared on a fucking white horse like a prince LOL and threatened to like…slay it if it didnt leave me alone??? honestly…what a slay, bestie good morning, btw, doll hope u had a better night’s sleep than me (and dreamed of me ehehehe)
            Saturday (17:40 pm)
I hate him: i cant believe i allowed myself to be fooled like this back in highschool yuyu and i used to play baseball for shits and giggles and hongjoong (that rich prick) rented a whole ass baseball field for us for the afternoon and let us play with some of his (rich af) friends and uh… i think i wont be able to walk straight for another week with how much running i did… hongjoong kept scoring homeruns…i wish yuyu was here to kick his loser ass (dont tell hwa or hong i said that PLS) yo doll…everything’s alright with u? uh u…really havent answered me since… yk…i stayed over and waited for the rain to stop… have i done something wrong?
I sighed and put my phone on ‘do not disturb’, suddenly having lost all of my appetite as I forced the rest of the lettuce down my throat. My mother was sipping her kiwi and apple smoothie, eyes narrowed as she muttered to herself while trying to memorize the recipe of a dessert for later. Desserts were never her forte, unfortunately.
“Is it Seulgi?” She asked absentmindedly as I took a large gulp of my own smoothie, staring down at my salad, steak pushed to the side in my plate.
“Huh?” I asked distracted, eyes still glued to the dark screen of my phone.
“Texting you, your phone keeps buzzing, my starlight.” I rolled my eyes at the nickname, but didn’t bother to comment on it. I took a peek at my mother and her eyes were narrowed at me already, video on YouTube paused. Fuck, I had to answer her now or else she’d pester me all day long. And that would be a nightmare.
“Yeah, it’s Seulgi.” I lied, trying to make my voice sound convincing.
“Well, answer her then, don’t be rude.” My mother chastised me, pressing play on her video again, pursing her lips as she shook her head at whatever the man baking was saying.
“Later.” I whispered, biting my lower lip as my eyes remained glued to my phone, stomach clenching and heart dropping.
But I couldn’t.
            Sunday (1:01 am)
I hate him: …you’re ignoring me, arent u? im sorry, y/n, i dont know what i did wrong, but we can talk about it we’re friends, after all…right?
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『When you came along, I knew what was wrong
If you want to know exactly what I've missed』
            Monday (present time)
            It truly would have been a missed opportunity if Seulgi and I wouldn’t have grabbed coffee and went to sit in our usual spot in the back garden. The campus of our University was huge and that was perfect, because it meant people migrated and didn’t stay in one spot for long—at least long enough to irritate me to no end. Last week deemed to be rather rough, and I still didn’t feel like completely myself. To be honest, I thought about staying home today—and for the rest of the week—but I couldn’t afford missing any of my classes as exam period was slowly nearing, and so, I had to force my ass out of the house this morning before my mother could come and nag me about my weirdly unusual broody mood that has been going on for the past few days.
I hummed as I took a sip of my sweet coffee, enjoying the taste of warm caramel as Seulgi sighed loudly next to me, both hands cupped around her own coffee cup. The scent of cinnamon wafted from her cup and I scrunched up my nose, not too fond of the ingredient’s smell. Our classes started early in the morning today and we’d be here for at least four more hours, caffeine seemed like our only hope to stay awake and aware at this point. Given the fact that my baffling thoughts kept me up all night yesterday, I felt grateful that I was still on my feet at two o’clock at noon. As Seulgi fidgeted again, I chuckled and finally turned my head to look at her. She had a sheepish look on her face, and I tried not to laugh as I knew she was bursting to tell me all about her date with Wooyoung on Saturday.
“Well,” I started as I took a sip of my coffee, prolonging the suspense for her, “how did your date go?”
“It was amazing!” I had barely finished asking as Seulgi exclaimed, her cheeks turning rosy—and it wasn’t due to the cold air, “Wooyoung is—everything I thought he would be. He’s sweet and up for anything, he makes me laugh until I feel like passing out, and there’s just never a dull moment with him, you know?”
“One would expect that from him.” I muttered against my cup, laughing as Seulgi nudged my side, not looking too happy with my comment, “Oh, come on, it would be hard for Wooyoung to be different than the way he mostly presents himself; don’t you think?”
Seulgi grumbled something against her cup as she lightly bit into the carton, shooting me a pointed stare, “Well, yes, but…he makes me happy. Treats me well and all that, you know, he’s the perfect embodiment of what a boyfriend should be like.”
“Boyfriend, huh?” I teased with a smirk, wriggling my eyebrows at my best friend as her cheeks flushed an even darker color as she bit her lower lip, trying to mask the huge grin expanding on her lips. But as soon as I started giggling, Seulgi also broke out in a fit of giggles, hiding herself behind her wavy hair, pressing her cup of coffee against her face.
“God, I’m so down bad for him, Y/N, I don’t think you’d understand.” She mused, voice airy as she threw her head back, leaning back against the back of the bench. I chuckled and took another sip of my drink.
“Maybe I’d do.” I muttered, memories of my relationship with Yunho resurfacing. Thankfully, however, I managed to repress them as quickly as they came. They didn’t feel so gut-wrenching anymore, and to my surprise, didn’t leave a bitter taste in its wake either. What has changed? Certainly—certainly getting closer to his best friend didn’t influence the way I feel about Yunho, right? Right.
“So,” I glanced at Seulgi from the corner of my eyes as she swung her legs, looking down at her feet in the process, “how are you?”
“Fine, why?” I asked confused, angling my body to face Seulgi better.
“You’ve been…distant the whole weekend. I could barely reach you.” Seulgi’s voice sounded small and I gulped, feeling bad for making her worry about me, “You know…the last time you pulled away and disappeared, it was bad.”
“I promise you I am doing completely fine, Seulgi, you’d be the first person to know if I was in a bad headspace again, alright?” I reached out and grabbed her hand, squeezing it reassuringly. Seulgi sighed and then raised her head to look at me, lips pulled into a thin line.
“Promise?”
“Of course, I promise.” I smiled at her warmly and she hummed in contentment, squeezing my hand back as she took a sip of her coffee. I followed suit before removing my hand from hers to fiddle with my half empty cup, “I’m just dealing with some things right now. I think I’m confused.”
“About what?” Seulgi asked curiously, leaning closer as I continued to avoid eye contact with her.
“I’ll tell you once I have my thoughts sorted about it.” I chuckled, making Seulgi roll her eyes in displeasure.
“You know, I tell you absolutely everything about myself and how I fell, and you always shut me out and tell me how you felt about a situation when it’s been over for years.” Seulgi pouted, narrowing her eyes at me, “How’s that fair, Y/N?”
“Hey, we work differently, don’t try to guilt trip me now.” I chuckled and took a sip of my coffee, making Seulgi roll her eyes, “Anyways, what did you do on your date with Wooyoung?”
“We went to the cinema,” Seulgi’s face lit up once again, grinning from ear to ear, “He bought me roses, a big bouquet. And after the movie we went for a walk and ended up stargazing in his cabriolet. It was really romantic.”
I smiled, feeling happy for my friend, she deserved someone like Wooyoung, “That actually sounds really amazing…and romantic.”
“Oh, my God, are you really Y/N? Where is my friend that hates anything that has to do with romance, cute stuff, and love?!” Seulgi’s shocked face was mocking and I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms in front of my chest as I leaned back against the back of the bench.
“I don’t hate it, I’m just not a huge fan of all of those things, okay?!” I shrugged, letting my arms fall from my chest as I pushed them inside my coat’s pockets.
“Who’s the culprit?” When I raised my eyebrows at Seulgi, a sign that I didn’t understand her question, she chuckled and leaned closer, “Who’s the man that’s changing your views on life, huh?”
“Man?” I asked with a scoff, giving Seulgi a deadpanned expression, “Does it always have to be about a man? Can’t it be just the fact that I had a change of mind?”
“Sure, because of someone.” Seulgi had a smug look on her face, acting as if she won the argument. But there was no argument here and she had no idea what she was talking about.
“Whatever—” But I got cut off as her phone dinged loudly. Seulgi, very comically, scrambled to reach for her phone and as she opened it up, a wide grin stretched onto her lips. It didn’t take two braincells to realize who had texted her, and thus, I chuckled and turned my head. I sipped my coffee, taking in my environment while Seulgi answered her boyfriend, giggling quietly every now and then.
The campus was finally silent and not as busy as it usually was in the early morning hours. The cold weather also helped in keeping the garden a little quieter as most people preferred to stay inside the warm corridors and classrooms. But the chilly air was good, it soothed my nerves and erased thoughts that weren’t productive. Similar to that, were the emotions that I didn’t want to deal with again, like the guilt that’s never left me ever since Mingi walked out of my house wearing Yunho’s old clothes. It felt wrong letting him take them without knowing the truth about them, but I didn’t feel ready to tell him yet about the truth. I was scared, surprisingly, of what he’d think of me once he found out about Yunho and I. I was scared that—he’d walk away, like Yunho had once done. And that was a very frightening thought. But when had I become so attached to Mingi? When has Mingi managed to infiltrate himself so thoroughly in my life, that the thought of completely losing him became scary? And why was I taking the past few days so badly? It’s not like we were as close as Seulgi and I, or him and Seonghwa and Wooyoung, yet, ignoring him felt like the wrong move to do. However, the reasoning I always circled back to was the fact that I needed space. I had to clear my mind, to find the purpose of this whole friendship that’s been blooming between us, and to make sense of everything. I had to figure out first why Yunho barely scraped my thoughts now, and why was it was Mingi who I found myself thinking of so often. In case you were wondering, no, I still haven’t found the reason, and it was becoming frustrating quite quickly. That near kiss was a—mistake. Yet, it could have been so much worse—it could have been a real kiss. And a real kiss would have ruined everything. I didn’t want to open up to anyone just yet, not when the memories of Yunho still haunted me in my dreams and drawings. Drawings that now more often than not consisted of Song Mingi.
And to my horror, the flipping of paper sheets is what alerted me back to my surroundings as I had been lost in my thoughts, oblivious to Seulgi putting her phone down and grabbing my sketchbook that lay between the two of us on the bench. As I turned my head, my eyes widened as Seulgi’s expression held surprise but amusement as well. She chuckled as she looked up, making eye contact with me. I lunged forward in an instant, trying to take my sketchbook out of her hands, but she leaned back and away, putting it behind herself.
“Bitch, I’m not the only one who’s down bad for a man.” She said with a laugh, making me groan as I gave up trying to snatch my sketchbook back from her.
“I’m not down bad for a man, Seulgi, stop this non-sense.” I hissed, cheeks burning in embarrassment as she kept flipping through my drawings.
“Please,” She scoffed, turning my sketchbook around and making me grimace as I came face to face with an exact replica of Mingi, sitting in his chair, at his studio that one time he invited me inside, “Who the fuck draws so many drawings of one single person if they aren’t in love with them—”
“I’m not in love with Mingi, stop it!” I exclaimed, heart beating fast as Seulgi raised her eyebrows at me, looking unimpressed, “Don’t ever again say that, Seulgi.”
“Okay, calm down, whatever. You’re not in love with Mingi.” She chuckled, closing my sketchbook but she didn’t hand it back yet, “But let’s face it, Y/N, you have a thing for Mingi. It’s super freaking obvious even without the drawings.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” I hissed and finally snatched the sketchbook out of her hands, clutching it to my chest. I knew bringing this along today would turn out to be a mistake, and here I was, facing the repercussions of my actions.
“There’s this glint in your eyes whenever you look at him—”
“Yeah, it’s called dislike.” I scoffed, rolling my eyes.
“And I see how you struggle to refrain yourself from smiling when you’re around him—”
“Bitch, be for real, Mingi and I aren’t even often together around you for you to notice that.” I scoffed, completely appealed by whatever absurd claims my best friend was making.
“So you’re not denying it—would it really be so bad if you liked Mingi?” But Seulgi ignored all my interruption as she raised her eyebrows at me, smiling softly, “He’s a nice guy. Very well-mannered and with a big, and good heart. Wooyoung loves him a lot and is always worrying about him. He says Mingi hasn’t been the same ever since his best friend moved away for college—”
“Mingi is Yunho’s best friend!” I blurted out before I could stop myself, finally feeling like a stone was taken off my chest as I bit my lower lip, averting my eyes from Seulgi’s shocked expression, “Mingi is the best friend Yunho had always talked so much about while we were together. I—do you understand why it would be so bad if I ended up liking Mingi?”
“Y/N,” Seulgi whispered, eyebrows furrowed, “for how long have you know?”
“Long enough.” I muttered before clearing my throat, “So please understand that I’m not ready for whatever the hell me drawing all those sketches of Mingi could mean. A month ago I was close to bursting out crying even at the thought of Yunho, and now I fail to remember his existence on my best days.”
When I dared take a peek at Seulgi, she was smiling softly, almost proudly, “Fine, I’ll pester you about this later on, when you’ve figured things out, but until then—you can’t deny Mingi isn’t hot—”
“Can we stop talking about Min—”
“Hi, girls!” I jumped in fright at the overly excited and shrill greeting as both Seulgi and I turned our heads to be met with…Wooyoung and Mingi. Speak of the devil. Suddenly, there was a lump in my throat, and my heart started beating just a little bit faster as my eyes fell on Mingi’s tall form. It didn’t help that underneath his coat he was wearing Yunho’s sweater—the one I had given him.
“Hi.” Seulgi giggled as Wooyoung leaned down to press a kiss against her cheek, the two looking sickly in love. It was actually endearing, but I’d never admit it out loud for my own sake as I knew I’d get teased about it by Seulgi. I averted my eyes from Wooyoung and Seulgi as they were muttering things to each other, and so, had no choice but to look up at Mingi, who looked—expressionless. Something in my stomach dropped at his cold demeanor, and it was worse that I wanted to assume it was my fault that he looked like that. But just as I was about to look away, he cracked the tiniest smile ever, and I exhaled, licking my lips.
“Hi.” My voice was small as I gulped, eyes trans-fixated on the tall man as his smile became just a little wider. I don’t think I had the power to ignore him anymore, not when he was standing right in front of me, looking like he wished to be anywhere but here.
“Hi, Y/N.” Having not heard his voice in days, it sounded even deeper and raspier than usually, making butterflies erupt in my stomach as my grip tightened around my sketchbook. I felt a little awkward, perhaps even tense, as Mingi didn’t say anything else, just continued gazing down at me with his sharp dark brown eyes boring into my own. I had so many things that I could’ve said to him, but I felt tongue tied. I didn’t know what would be the right way to approach him after I ignored him for so many days. Would he understand? Is he mad at me now? Does he hate me now? Will he forgive me—
“Okay,” Wooyoung chuckled, syllable drawn out and sounding amused, “I feel like I’m interrupting something here, yet they are basically just staring at each other.”
“You’re right.” Seulgi giggled, and I finally looked away from Mingi, throwing a glare at my best friend as she had leaned into Wooyoung’s side, who stood next to the bench and her.
“Shush, you two.” Mingi beat me to telling the two love-birds off, and I couldn’t help but smile, “Don’t poke your nose where it doesn’t belong to.”
“Look who’s lecturing me about poking my nose where it doesn’t belong to—”
“Wooyoung.” Mingi’s tone held a warning, and it made Wooyoung giggle as he leaned down and pressed a fat kiss against Seulgi’s cheek—again—making her push him away playfully.
“We’re headed to class, are you coming over later?” Wooyoung smiled down at his girlfriend, playing with a strand of her hair.
“Maybe, if I get to finish my project.” Seulgi said with a pout and Wooyoung hummed, leaning down to press a kiss against her lips this time around. I averted my eyes, not a fan of seeing couples kiss, only to catch Mingi already looking at me. He was expressionless once again, but he was fidgeting with his fingers, looking almost nervous. And as Wooyoung stood up straight and ruffled Seulgi’s hair affectionately, Mingi took a deep breath.
“Will you come to Outlaw this Friday?” He asked in a rush, sounding almost reluctant as his eyebrows furrowed slightly and he chewed on his lower lip. To my horror, I found my eyes fixated on his plush mouth and I gulped before I quickly averted my eyes, praying that nobody caught it.
“Yes.” I answered before Seulgi could, and nodded, smiling a little bit, “I won’t miss it.”
A beautiful smile spread on Mingi’s lips and he nodded once, looking too happy for something so little. I don’t think I’ll understand anytime soon why he gets so excited and happy when I listen to his songs or watch him perform. I’m no expert when it comes to music, my feedback is merely amateur and I’m not even a fan of his band yet.
“Cool, see you then.” And Mingi didn’t wait for Wooyoung as he turned around and walked away, steps hurried. I didn’t miss the confused glance Wooyoung and Seulgi shared before Wooyoung was off, chasing after his best friend. And maybe I would be soon able to make sense of my thoughts and feelings around Mingi, figure out what they meant and why they felt so real at times.
            Monday (16:58 pm)
I hate him: hi Me: hi I hate him: would it be a lot if i asked to meet u tomorrow? Me: no, im free in the afternoon I hate him: cool, me too so uh…we can hang out in my studio? Me: or we can go to that new café with pottery I hate him: really? Me: u did say u wanted us to go… I hate him: i certainly said so i’ll pick u up around 4 Me: u don’t have to i’ll meet you there I hate him: come on, y/n…let me drive u Me: u’ve driven me around too many times by now i’ll meet u there and that’s final. I hate him: okay, boss, see ya there Me: :))
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            Getting here before four o’clock and having to wait in front of the cute café had no business being this nerve-wrecking. Yeah, Mingi hasn’t shown up yet—but perhaps that’s because there were still ten minutes until it’d be four—and I knew I had no reason to think he’d bail on me, but we hadn’t spoken since yesterday, when he had asked me if we could hang out. And so, waiting for him shouldn’t have had me breaking out in a sweat despite the cold weather, making me bite my lower lip harshly as I tried to smooth down the wool, green, brown, and beige patterned coat I was wearing. First of all, why the hell would I be so nervous about meeting up with Mingi alone at this cute café? He probably wanted to talk about that near kiss, and once we had that cleared, things would go back to normal—right?!
And maybe that was the reason which made me want to vomit on the sidewalk, the thought that I knew Mingi would demand answers—answers that I wasn’t yet ready to hand out. Why did I even agree to this? Because I missed him? I should have just stayed at home and done the project I’ve been procrastinating on—again. But when I heard the rumble of Mingi’s old Honda’s engine, I knew there was no turning back, catching the bus and running home to hide underneath my blanket.
As Mingi took his time to parallel park, I took a deep breath and gripped onto the strap of my tote bag harder, looking down at myself. My apricot orange sneakers matched the color of my blouse, the top two buttons out of five undone, but not showing too much skin. My blouse was tucked inside my washed out high waisted mom jeans, the black belt matching the color of my tote bag—I know black isn’t a color, I’m an arts major after all. My hair was pulled in a low ponytail just to prevent the wind from blowing it in my face, and I was thankful that I chose my wool coat as it kept me warm enough. I have opted to wear quite a few rings today, and because my neck felt too exposed, I decorated it with three necklaces of different length. I gulped hard one last time as Mingi got out of his car and took a few seconds until he managed to lock it. However, those few seconds were exactly what I needed to prepare myself to not pass out at the full sight of him.
Mingi, in true fashion to him, wore all black, except for his jeans that were a very dark shade of blue, almost black too. His turtleneck was tucked inside his jeans, a black coat with a hood keeping him warm from the cold late autumn weather. It almost made me smile upon seeing his own tote bag, black, and funnily matching mine. Except that his was plain, while mine had Claude Monet’s Water-Lily Pond painting painted on it, done by none other than yours truly, me. Mingi’s eyes were concealed by black sunglasses, and I snorted as he almost splashed himself up by stepping a little too enthusiastically into a big puddle. Two necklaces hung around his neck, reaching down his chest. A very obvious and sturdy silver cross necklace, and another longer chain that had pearls scarcely strung on it.  And in true Song Mingi fashion, his rings weren’t missing, only two of his nails painted black on each hand, almost as if he didn’t have time to finish doing them. My heart racing in my chest so fast just at the mere sight of him, certainly wasn’t healthy, right?
“Hi!” I squeaked out and wished to burry myself instantly as Mingi chuckled, a very charming smile spreading onto his lips. It was a little annoying that I couldn’t see his eyes, forced to stare at his plush lips instead—let’s be real, nobody forced me, I did it because I couldn’t help myself, “The sun is quite blinding today, isn’t it?”
And of course, in good old fashion, my mouth worked before my brain would agree to saying something out loud, and my cheeks were burning as I knew Mingi saw me look at his lips. I had to divert the attention somehow, and teasing him was my best method, actually. It always worked.  
“I’m trying to make a fashion statement,” Mingi grinned as he gripped the sunglasses and took them off in a very unnaturally hot way, “but hello to you too.”
“No need for a fashion statement when it’s just the two of us,” I narrowed my eyes, finding Mingi’s hair very soft and fluffy looking, almost as if he had recently washed it, and it wasn’t completely dry, “I’m not one of your fans.”
“Pity,” Mingi hummed, stepping slightly closer to me, “I thought I might just finally wove you.”
I scoffed, and as I was about to tell him off, he grabbed my tote bag and pulled me after himself, headed for the entrance of the café, “Did you have to wait long for me? Traffic was busier today, I had to take a few detours to get here in time.”
“Don’t worry,” I smiled as he opened the door for me and let me walk inside first, “I only waited half an hour for you to arrive, runway princess.”
“Runway princess?!” Mingi’s eyes bulged for a second before he started laughing loudly, making a few customers glance our way as we made it inside the café. I elbowed him in the stomach gently, not too keen of having people glare at us as he disturbed their peace.
“Don’t like the nickname?” I asked with a raised brow as we neared the front desk. The cashier had a friendly smile on her face while she greeted us as Mingi and I looked up at the menu, trying to decide what we’d like to have.
“Never said that,” Mingi answered with a chuckle as he threw me a quick glance, “it’s just surprising coming from you.”
“Why, can’t I call you a princess?” I chuckled, turning to face the cashier as I have made up my mind about what I’d like to have.
“Up until now you seemed to prefer the term ‘bro’, but I’m fine with whatever you decide on calling me, doll.” The look the cashier gave us made my cheeks flame up and I cleared my throat loudly, shooting Mingi a look that told him to shut up.
“Sorry about that,” I muttered embarrassed, smiling at the cashier, “can I get a strawberry cheesecake?”
“Sure, right away, and you, sir?” Her attention was on Mingi now, cheeks flushing the longer she looked at him. Okay, I could totally understand why. Mingi looked quite good right now, it was hard not to ogle him.
“A mint-chocolate cheesecake and a cappuccino?” Mingi hummed, eyebrows furrowed in thought as he looked down at the cashier.
“Plain cappuccino or with vanilla?” The cashier typed in our orders as she asked Mingi, averting her eyes shyly once he looked at her, pursing his lips.
“Plain,” He decided at last, turning to look at me, “are you not getting anything to drink?”
“An orange fresh will be alright.” I said as I reached inside my bag to fish around for my wallet.
“And would you also like to paint some pottery?” The cashier asked, pointing behind herself at all the displayed options. Mingi and I shared a look and I smiled as I nodded at him, making him grin from ear to ear.
“Yeah, we’ll paint some pottery too. Can I have a cup?” He asked, pointing at one on the higher shelf. It was a smaller cup, specifically made for drinking coffee. The cashier nodded and then looked at me expectantly.
“Uh, a mug will do for me.” I said and thanked her once she handed us the pottery and the paint that was used for painting these. Then, she tapped a few more on her tablet and told us the total. I opened my wallet to pay for my purchase, but Mingi had a card in his hands, the cashier already typing in the total sum for him to pay.
“Mingi,” I hissed quietly, looking at him with a frown, “what are you doing?”
“It was my idea to come here—”
“No, it wasn’t.” I cut him off, fingers curling into the scratchy fabric of his coat as I reached out to hold it, “I suggested we come here instead of going to your studio.”
Mingi sighed and pocketed his card, already having paid, then turned his body to face mine. I didn’t let go of his coat just yet, “Yeah, but when I drove you home during that downpour I asked you if you’d come here with me. So technically, it was my idea. Initially, anyways, it really was.”
“Mingi—” I started, but soon swallowed my words as he stepped closer, invading my personal space. My fingers tightened more into his coat and I gulped, suddenly feeling nervous due to our proximity. He faintly smelled of vanilla, it was a fragrance I didn’t except to smell on him.
“Can you not fight me on this one, please?” Mingi’s eyebrows slightly furrowed and his eyes softened up and I—struggled to breathe for a second as I stared up in his pleading eyes, mouth going dry. He looked—adorable like this, and I did not like the way I felt myself getting lost in his soft gaze.
“Let’s find a table.” I muttered, forcing myself out of the trance he placed on me, and grabbed my mug and the painting supplies. Mingi followed suit as he took his own cup and followed after me closely. We walked further inside the café and found a smaller table in the next room, closer towards the window. The walls were painted a faint orange and were decorated by white stripes that created abstract shapes. The chandeliers were white and hung low, the place well-lit for those who wished to paint pottery.
I placed the things in my hands on the table carefully, and then discarded my coat on the back of my chair and my tote bag by the leg of the table, pulling my chair out for myself. Mingi followed suit, however, he managed to almost send his cup tumbling to the floor when he took his seat. His eyes were wide as he just barely caught the cup, and I giggled as I watched him while opening the box that held all the paint. Thankfully, the table was spacious enough to harbor both our pottery and paints as the cashier brought out our delicacies. She threw Mingi a lasting look before she hurried back to the front desk, glancing our way at times.
“This is going to be a tough one.” Mingi said before scooping up a bit of his cheesecake with his little spoon.
“Why?” I asked with a chuckle, choosing a thin brush to start painting some flowers on my mug. My cheesecake could wait.
“Because I’m literally sat at a table with an arts major, having to decorate some cup by painting.” Mingi sounded stressed and I chuckled as I looked up at him, amused by his expression. His hair fell in his eyes a bit, and I found myself absentmindedly reaching over the table to brush it to the side. Almost as if realizing at the same time what I had done, we both froze. It felt like time stilled around us as I watched Mingi with a gaping mouth, slowly but surely, my cheeks becoming the color of a fire hydrant. But Mingi wasn’t better off as he bit his bottom lip, averting his eyes shyly as his cheeks turned the faint color of pink. Clearing my throat and accidentally choking as I hastily pulled my hand back, I averted my eyes and fought for my life to not choke. Thank God the orange juice was right there, I quickly took three large gulps.
“Th—thanks.” Mingi stuttered, staring at the table as he licked his lips, “Uh, it’s gotten long, my hair, I mean, I have to cut it when I get the time.”
“Yeah.” I nodded, grabbing my mug and chewing on my bottom lip in embarrassment—God, could the Earth swallow me up right now? Why the hell did I do that?! “Yeah.”
“Do you think I should change it up a little?” I paused as I had dipped my brush in red paint, and slowly looked up at Mingi, “Do something fun with it—like going blonde?”
“I hate blonde hair.” I blurted out before I could stop myself. Nice one, idiot. Yunho was blonde while we were together, and thus, yeah, I’ve hated blondes ever since. And to be fair—and this is not me shitting on my ex—but that hair color did not suit Yunho at all.
“Oh, noted.” Mingi whispered, pouting a little. I sighed and looked up at the ceiling, hating myself for the weird atmosphere I have created.
“Mingi, you can do whatever you want with your hair.” I spoke up, leaning down to try and look him in the eyes as he was busy staring at the table, “My opinion shouldn’t matter. It’s your hair. Go crazy with it, have fun, try out something new. Really.”
“But do you think it would suit me?” Mingi was still pouting as he finally looked up at me, looking quite crestfallen. My eyebrows furrowed and I tried to imagine him with blonde hair. He was quite blessed with his skin complex as most colors looked good on him, but perhaps I preferred Mingi with dark hair—black hair, more specifically. Like he had it right now. He looked—good. Handsome, even. Completely gorgeous. Fuck.
“I think it would suit you.” I settled on saying that. He didn’t have to know my train of thought, like at all. Mingi hummed in appreciation, and I watched as he reached inside his tote bag, pulling out a case that held his glasses. He took it out of the case and put it on, pushing it up on the bridge of his nose. He grinned when he looked at me and I chuckled, shaking my head as I looked down at my mug, finally starting to decorate it.
“There goes the cool, mysterious, hot celebrity act.” I teased under my breath, not expecting Mingi to hear me. But he did, and he started laughing, giving me a cheeky grin.
“Not quite a celebrity yet, but at least you admit I am hot.” Of course he was smirking as I gave him a deadpanned look, about to argue him on his statement, but he didn’t let me as he continued talking, “By the way, let’s exchange our cups when we are done. The mug will be mine and the cup will be yours.”
I tried to fight the smile off my lips, “So that you get the artwork of a talented artist for free to sell for an outrageous price later on when I’m famous?”
“I fear you have misjudged my character, doll.” Mingi’s eyes narrowed playfully, but there was truth to his words. I might just have misjudged his character.
“I still think you’re arrogant and selfish.”
“Of course you do, didn’t except anything less from you.” Mingi winked and then looked down, his cheesecake forgotten as he started decorating his cup, tongue just barely sticking out as he concentrated hard on whatever he had in mind to paint onto the cup. I chuckled and shook my head before focusing on my own mug, the silence that’s settle around us comfortable, as always.
            Mingi and I were the quietest table in the café as we worked in silence diligently in, painting our own pottery. Mingi, at times, would hum along quietly to the songs that were played on the radio. Despite his cup being smaller and easier to paint, I finished painting mine before him, and so, I took the time to savor my cheesecake even if it had gotten warm and a little too soft. Mingi was hunched over in his seat, glasses low on the bridge of his long nose, with his full lips either pursed or with the bottom one bitten as his eyebrows would furrow every time he almost made a mistake. It was a funny sight, and I grabbed my phone without thinking much, and snapped a few pictures of him, leaning lower and even closer to his face to get the funny angles, all while Mingi remained oblivious to it. I chuckled as I looked at the pictures I had taken of him, looking at him when I felt eyes on me.
“What’s so funny?” He asked curiously, eyeing my phone for a second.
“You.” I chuckled and stuck my tongue out as Mingi rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair as he heaved a long sigh.
“I’m finally done.” He grinned and I looked down at his cup, taking in the yellow chicks he had painted quite—clumsily. Well, not all of us had the skills of a painter—not that it was an issue or anything—it’s just that it’s been long since I had seen someone have the skills of a—kindergartner, “It’s pretty sick, huh?”
I bit my lower lip to stop myself from giggling and nodded with my eyebrows furrowed, “I’d give it a seventy out of a hundred mark.”
“Hey! That’s too low!” Mingi said, looking offended. I chuckled before shrugging.
“You’ll have to work on your skills for a higher mark.”
“Fine, next time you come to the studio, I’ll make you sing.” Mingi raised his eyebrows, making me narrow my eyes at him playfully.
“Oh, I didn’t know we are in a competition.”
“We weren’t, until now.” He winked and then stood, grabbing my mug and his own cup carefully as he took it to the front desk for drying. I gathered the items we had used to paint the pottery with to place them back in the box, and couldn’t help it but sneak a glance at Mingi. He was leaned up against the front counter, grinning widely at the cashier as she spoke to him, using her hands for big gestures as she was probably explaining something. My eyes narrowed as Mingi leaned slightly closer to her, only to detach himself from the front desk and walk back towards our table. I looked away and busied myself with my glass of orange juice.
“So, we’ll get them delivered to our houses once they are dry and all.” He said with a smile, sitting down, “I hope you don’t mind I gave her your address too.”
“I don’t.” I muttered, chewing on the straw for a second, “I didn’t think you’d know my address.”
“Well,” Mingi flattened his hands on the surface of the table, “I’ve been to your house twice now. I think it’s only right I remember your address, doll.”
“Right,” I muttered, “you’ve been to my house.”
Mingi’s eyebrows furrowed, and I figured he didn’t like the tone of my voice. But before I could correct myself and explain that I had nothing against that, he spoke up, “Y/N, I—I didn’t mean to scare you or—I don’t know—make you think that I want anything from you. I mean—we are friends, and I respect you as a woman and as a friend, and I know we almost—kissed. But I—I don’t want you to think that I’m playing some sort of game with you to get—to get in your pants. I’m your friend. And even if I wasn’t, I still wouldn’t do that to you.”
Hearing him say all that felt wrong. I didn’t deserve any explanation from him. I was the one that’s overreacted that day, and Mingi was the one that deserved an explanation and apology from me for the way I have acted. I knew I couldn’t completely open up to him right now, that some parts of the truth had to be omitted today, but he also deserved to know why I had pulled back. And I wanted him to understand that it wasn’t his fault for the way I reacted to everything.
“Mingi,” I offered him a small smile and gripped my empty glass for some support, “If you think you are the reason why I ignored you, please, stop thinking that. It’s—we both leaned in, okay? We were both about to kiss each other, it’s not like you initiated it or forced me to do something I didn’t want to. And nothing even happened, for God’s sake. I reacted that way because I—”
When I paused, Mingi’s eyebrows furrowed, and he leaned over the table, gently poking my hand with his ring clad fore-finger, “You don’t have to tell me anything if you’re not comfortable sharing it, Y/N.”
“But I want you to know this, Mingi.” I averted my eyes and took a deep breath, embracing myself for what I was about to tell him, “I had a boyfriend back in high-school who completely broke my heart, shattered it into pieces. And I know that happened a long time ago, and yes, I am over him, but I—I am scared people will treat me like he had treated me. I’m scared that if I let you close, you’ll just—leave. Like he did. And I know ignoring you for days was very shitty of me and I shouldn’t have done that—because quite frankly, Mingi, you deserve better—I just didn’t know what to do. I needed a few days to myself, to figure things out. It’s a bad excuse, but it’s the truth, and I think you deserve to know it. Since we are friends.”
Mingi’s face conveyed no emotion for a few seconds and I gulped, feeling nervous all of a sudden. Did he figure it out now? That I was talking about Yunho? That maybe I have started feeling something for him too, for Mingi? Would he stand up and leave? But to my surprise, a wide smile stretched onto his lips and he hummed, adjusting his glasses on his nose.
“Thank you for trusting me, it means a lot that you told me all that.” I bit my bottom lip, looking down at the table abashedly, “And I was never mad at you for ignoring me. I completely understand you, Y/N, and for the record, I have zero intentions of leaving you. And your ex is a fucking asshole for breaking your heart like that, tell me who he is and I’ll beat him up when I cross paths with him.”
There was nothing funny about what Mingi had said, especially since he was talking about his best friend, but the comically tough look on his face made me snort loudly as I shielded my mouth with my hand, trying to stop myself from laughing too loudly. Mingi started grinning like an idiot, his giggles deep, and making something coil in my stomach. When has Song Mingi become adorable instead of annoying?
“I doubt you’d want to kick his ass once you find out who he is…” I grimaced once that was out of my mouth, regretting it instantly. What was it about today that I couldn’t keep my thoughts and mouth in check? It was turning really frustrating.
“So, you plan on telling me one day?” Mingi wriggled his eyebrows, making me snort, “Like real besties gossiping and shit.”
“You never fail to make me cringe when you call us besties, Mingi.” I shook my head, taking a glance at my wrist watch. Oh, the time had flown away, it was well past five now, and the sun was going down. I’d probably have to head home soon to have dinner with my mother. I was becoming hungry too.
“Well, that’s what we are so…” He cleared his throat before slowly standing up, making me look up at him, “Did you know today we’re celebrating the Festival of Light?”
“Nope, I had no idea.” I shook my head, standing up too as Mingi wore his coat, “I don’t follow the events our city organizes.”
“Pity, it’s really pretty.” Mingi pouted, waiting for me as I grabbed my tote bag and pocketed my phone, “Should we check it out?”
“I mean…maybe?” I shrugged and Mingi beckoned me over as he crossed his arm with mine, making me chuckle as I looked up at him. He wasn’t much taller than me, but his sneakers had a thick sole and they made him even taller, “Where is this festival held at?”
“Just down the street, at the Citadel.” Mingi smiled as he led the way out of the café, waving at the barista as she blushed again, making me chuckle as I subconsciously nuzzled up against Mingi’s side, the air chilly as the sun had set by now.
“That barista totally has a crush on you.” I found myself saying as we walked down the sidewalk, trying to avoid crashing into the people that came towards us. Yeah, there certainly was an event on-going in the city, otherwise you wouldn’t see so many people out and about around this time. Everyone preferred staying inside after the sun had set, not keen of the cold nights.
“You think so?” Mingi mused, bottom lip jutting out as he narrowly avoided a child that was running around, “I didn’t notice.”
“You must be really dense then.” I snorted, eyebrows furrowing as I looked up at him, “She was constantly blushing, and she was totally looking at you with hearts in her eyes.”
“How do you know when someone is looking at you with heart eyes?” Mingi’s question threw me off, and I detached myself from his side, clearing my throat as I looked ahead, pushing my hands in my pockets. He was warm, it made me realize as the cold bit at my skin now that I wasn’t nuzzled up by his side anymore.
“Well, they have this look in their eyes, you know? It’s warm, and soft, and it lasts.” I explained, feelings my cheeks heat up, “And their eyes always linger on you when you aren’t watching them. It’s like…puppy eyes, I suppose? I wouldn’t actually know, Mingi, nobody’s ever looked at me like that.”
When there was no response, I looked back to find Mingi looking at me intensely. My eyebrows furrowed as we have arrived to the Citadel, the gates open for the visitors of the festival. The place was packed, this wouldn’t be so fun anymore. I would’ve turned around and walked back home if I didn’t see how excited Mingi was when I agreed to come check it out.
“There’s lots of people here.” Mingi muttered, and then walked closer to me as I led the way inside, a little baffled by his reaction to my answer. I just merely gave an answer based on my beliefs. It was him that was acting weird now. But as I looked at him, I could see it in his eyes that he didn’t want to talk about this topic anymore, that he wanted us to drop the subject. His last comment was a way to veer the conversation in a different direction. What was it about us today making everything weird? I sighed and just walked further inside, trying to avoid the big crowd which seemed almost impossible as it stretched on and on. The Citadel, however, was beautiful as it was coated in darkness, only the little paper lamps and fairy lights illuminating the place. It had a certain aura to it, almost romantic, and I soon found myself smiling as we walked down the cobblestone path, still trying to avoid people and stick close to each other’s sides. The air was chilly but the walls of the Citadel did a great job at keeping the breeze out, and the crowd certainly kept the place warmer than it was outside the stone walls.
I found myself admiring the décor in wonder, my mouth hanging open as I took in all the little lamps placed down on the ground, following the cobblestone paths, illuminating our way. It was truly beautiful, it almost felt like the scene was taken out of a fairytale. I found myself filled with excitement and happiness as I turned to grin at Mingi.
“This is so beautiful!” I giggled, absentmindedly grabbing the sleeve of his coat and dragging him away from the path and into the dying grass as there was a panel covered with paper, and people were writing on it. Mingi remained silent, but as I searched around for a pen or pencil, I felt him watching me, “What, do you not want to write something?”
“If you manage to find a marker or pen, I will, sure.” He said with a shrug, adjusting the strap of his tote bag before he pushed his hands deep in his pockets. I chuckled and looked around for a marker, but it was hard to see it in the darkness whether they were laying around in the grass or not. To my surprise, a little girl standing next to me looked up at me with a small smile on her lips, and offered me her purple-coloured marker, saying she was done with her drawing. I thanked her with a chuckle and turned to face Mingi with a grin.
“I found one!” Mingi chuckled and took the marker from my hands, being able to reach high up where the paper was still empty, due to his height. The panel was illuminated from the inside so you could actually see what was written on the paper. I watched him as he wrote on the paper, hesitating for a second, before he stepped back and handed me the marker. I raised up on my tip toes curiously, and craned my neck to see what he’s written. ‘The moon is beautiful tonight.’
I felt a smile spread onto my lips as I looked back at Mingi, who’s expression was serious and almost sad-looking as he adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his tall nose. I craned my neck back once more to gaze at the dark sky, at the moon, and indeed, there she was, beautiful and shining brightly. It was a new moon. Taking a swift glance at Mingi, I raised back on my tip toes and stood close to the panel, reaching up, just underneath Mingi’s writing. Thankfully, I could reach just bellow it, and I grinned as I quickly drew a new moon, adding a little shading to it and dents as well, creating the illusion of a real moon. Mingi remained silent as I took a step back, admiring our work. I handed the marker to another child as I fished my phone out of my pocket and snapped a picture quickly of our artwork.
“The moon turned out beautifully.” Mingi commented once we had stepped away from the panel to let others draw too, headed back onto the cobblestone path.
“Still, it’s not as beautiful as the real one, but I tried my best.” I chuckled as I crossed my arms in front of my chest for a second, avoiding a man as he wasn’t looking in front of himself as he raced down the path. Mingi threw him a displeased look before looking down at me.
“Your drawings and paintings are always beautiful, Y/N.” Mingi said and I found myself blushing, thankful that it was so dark he wouldn’t be able to see it. I uncrossed my arms and turned my body a little to face him. There was music coming from one path, the one which led to the southern part of the Citadel.
“Are you nervous about Friday?” I found myself asking him as Mingi veered us towards where the music was coming from. He looked at me for a second, and then shook his head.
“I’m rarely nervous when we have to perform.” He said nonchalantly, the back of his hand brushing lightly against mine. My heart did a somersault against my ribcage, but I ignored it.
“Oh, you’re such a cool guy.” I teased him with narrowed eyes, making Mingi chuckle.
“I rarely get nervous, to be honest, even less when it comes to performing.” He hummed, looking up at the dark sky for a second, “I trust myself and my bandmates that everything will go well, so, there’s no actual reason to feel nervous.”
“But I’ll be there on Friday, that still doesn’t make you feel nervous?” My question was meant to be teasing, part of our playful banter, but the way Mingi gulped and quickly averted his eyes told me that perhaps I hit the nail spot-on. Well, now I have turned things awkward again. I sighed loudly, chewing on my bottom lip as Mingi remained silent, the two of us walking down the narrow path as the music became louder as we were nearing the stage. Jazz music was playing, the lady who was singing had a powerful and smooth voice that carried over the crowd neatly. There were a few people dancing in the crowd.
“Perhaps having you there will make me nervous.” Mingi’s voice was barely above a whisper and I tensed when I felt his pinkie brush against my own, making me clench my hand into a fist. But a very quiet voice inside my head demanded me to accept Mingi’s subtle request, and willing my heart to stop hammering so hard in my chest, I relaxed my hand and slowly slipped it into Mingi’s. If he stopped walking for a milli-second, I didn’t say anything about it, and he also ignored it. His grip turned firm as he intertwined our fingers together, gently pulling me closer into his side as he smiled at a mother who apologised for his son almost running into us.
I gulped and kept my eyes ahead of me, too nervous to look at Mingi. Holding his hand like this meant nothing in particular, but it was a nice feeling. It made my cheeks warms and heart race. And I didn’t have to look at Mingi to know he was smiling like crazy, his cheeks just as red as mine as we came to a stop behind the dancing people.
Have I started falling for Song Mingi?
『It's you, ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh
I'm just saying it's you, ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh
You, ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh
You're what I've been chasing
Show me where my days went』
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❱❱ Next chapter
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so...the festival of light scene was totally inspired by me and my bestie attending it in our city lol; it was sooo beautiful and the pictures in the moodboard were actually taken by us; also, her and I kept laughing about the romantic vibes we were getting, all in all, we had a nice time...and OFC we make everything about Ateez so :))
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I wrote that LOL I'm like Mingi, tall enough to reach the top where people haven't scribbled onto yet lol
also, this is what y/n's outfit looks like for anyone wondering, except for the colors as they are the way I have described them in the scene ^^
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90 notes · View notes
luizd3ad · 3 days
Note
OH ok ok ok…
Can I maybe request a Pandora x shy!reader who has a crush on Pandora but obviously just admires from a distance; but Pandora Be Knowing (tm) - maybe Pandora just starts inserting herself into readers daily routine and readers like “?!?!?!” and Pandora’s like “!!🥰😇🤗!!”
Hope this is enough? You can message me if you want more 😉 xx
Universes Mistake | Pandora Rosier x Reader
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ࣪˖⤷ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ࣪ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ˖ ⤷
Pairing: Pandora Rosier x Fem!Shy!Reader WC: 2,431 CW: Use of Y/N, kinda hints of more social anxiety and awkwardness than shy (??), Reader gets anxious and overthinks. Author's Note: My first request damn😮‍💨 I'm sorry it's taken so long I’ve just had like no motivation? it kinda looks like that been kinda going around rn tho? idk maybe somethings in the air lol. I really hope you like it tho. Summary: You've liked Pandora for years but with you being painfully shy you just like her from a distance but Pandoras not having that.
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✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°
The first thing you did every time you walked into one of the few classes that you shared with her was look for her. 
She was just so amazing that you couldn't help but like her.. a lot. She was always so sweet to the people that were important to her. She was always so happy, so lively, she just seemed so carefree. Always laughing and smiling.
Merlin, that smile. What you wouldn't do to have her smile at you.
You’ve liked her since second year.
You were sitting under a tree by The Black Lake reading, you were almost completely lost in your book but then your attention was stolen when you heard talking and laughing. 
Walking past you was Regulus Black, Barty Crouch Jr, Dorcas Meadowes, Evan Rosier and her, Pandora Rosier.
They didn't notice you but you noticed them. 
You remember when you heard her laugh the first time, how it made your heart speed up, how your hands got all clammy, how you felt the heat crawling up your face. How you felt like you couldn't breathe.
You were captivated.
You started to notice her everywhere, classes, halls, the library, it felt like she had consumed your life in the best way possible. 
You had always been the shy type, finding it hard to talk to people, making friends, you would get embarrassed easier than you probably should, you'd get easily nervous so you had always just kept to yourself, you were alone. That's how you liked it.. or at least that's what you told yourself. 
So you were fine with the fact that she didn't notice you. You were happy and content with existing in the same space as her.
When you walked into Divination you noticed she wasn't there yet. You tried not to let yourself feel disappointed so you decided that in the meantime you would just take your normal seat in the back and get ready for class while letting yourself hope in the back of your mind that you'll see her at some point.
You were so focussed on getting ready for class and you didn't notice that someone had sat at the chair across from you until you heard her. “Hello, Y/N.” Your movements froze at the sound of her voice as if you were just hit with the ‘Glacius’ charm. You slowly looked up, trying to control your breathing. 
Social interactions, talking to people made you quite nervous but most of the time it was manageable. Talking to Pandora though? That was something you would have never even considered. 
You were content with just seeing her, from a distance that is.
“Um, H-hello Pandora?” You internally cringed when you stuttered and your sentence came out more like a question instead of just a normal greeting. 
But Pandora just smiled at you, not in a teasing way but in a way that had you get butterflies in your stomach, a way that made your heart skip a beat.
To your relief before the conversation could continue the professor started class and for the next hour and a half you were sitting next to Pandora Rosier trying not to completely freak out or embarrass yourself. 
When the class was dismissed you were out of there within seconds. You had never packed up and left a class so fast before. You were rushing to your next class trying to put distance between you and Pandora.
It's not that you didn't want to talk to her, it was just you didn't know how to talk to her. 
How do you just talk to the girl that you’ve basically been in love with for years? How do you talk to someone that just made your heart melt by saying ‘Hello’ to you? 
How do you talk to someone that makes you want to give her your everything just to hear your name fall off her lips again?
The rest of the day you were distracted by the thoughts of Pandora. You had shared classes with her for years. Why all the sudden did she sit with you? Why did she suddenly talk to you? Maybe she was just being nice? She was a nice person. That was one of the things you loved about her. It just never seemed like she knew you existed, let alone knew your name.
It had been a few days since Pandora had talked to you. She hadn't tried talking to you since.. admittedly it might have something to do with the fact that you didn't share many classes together and you might have also been actively avoiding her.. but who knows?
So that weekend you were in the library studying for a Charms test that was coming up. The library was quite empty since most people were off at Hogsmeade, you never went unless necessary which wasn't often. You liked how empty the castle was on Hogsmeade weekends. It was nice to just calm down for a while.
Especially because you had been spending the better part of the week running around trying to avoid Pandora.
At this point though you were willing to put the whole thing behind you. Just forget about it, move on, act like it never happened. Just chalk it up to a mistake made by the universe, something that would never happen again.
The universe didn't seem to appreciate your thought of it making a mistake because it was apparently wishful thinking to assume it wouldn't happen again.
Your head snapped up at the sudden sound of a chair being dragged on the floor. Across the table from you was Pandora, she sat across from you silently reading a book. She had a faint smile on her face but she seemed focused on her book.
You silently took a deep breath internally debating if you should leave or not.
You were there first. She didn't make it seem like she wanted you to leave. Maybe she wanted your company? Why else would she sit with you? Especially when there were so many empty tables.
You made the choice to stay and keep studying. Neither of you said a word the whole time you were there. You would look at her every so often but she did seem to move at all.
You hadn't realized how much time had passed until Pandora suddenly closed her book and stood up. You looked up at her surprised by her movements, based on the smile on her face you most likely looked as surprised as you felt. “It's dinner time. You should take a break and eat… Goodnight Y/N.” With that Pandora practically floated away, her smile never fading.
You felt your breath get caught in your throat. You mind started to race a bit. Why did she sit with you almost all day? What was her sudden interest in you? 
You started to feel a headache creep into the back of your head, because of that you decided to take her advice. To eat dinner and then just go to bed. Once again you just wanted to brush today off as a mistake made by the universe.
Well apparently the universe really likes proving you wrong because the weeks following that day you and Pandora found yourselves in an unspoken schedule.
After classes you would sit at your normal table in the back of the library and start to study then Pandora would sit with you reading or working in silence till it was time for dinner, she always said the same thing by the end. ‘It's dinner time. You should take a break and eat.’ then she would wish you a goodnight and walk away. 
You got used to having Pandora around. You stated to grow comfortable around her. You like being around her. You started to become comfortable with your routine.
Today was different though you only knew that when you grew closer to your table and you saw Pandora already there. In the few weeks you two had sat together you had always gotten there first. Pandora would usually follow after about ten minutes, today she beat you there.
Slowly and hesitantly you walked to the table trying to calm your anxiety. As you got closer to the table you notice that Pandora didn’t have her school bag with her but a picnic basket. 
“Hello Y/N. I know normally we sit here but I was wondering if you were interested in going on a little adventure with me.” Her voice was as soft as silk and fuck that smile. She could get you to do anything with that smile. 
So who were you to deny her?
You silently agreed with a nod of your head not trusting your voice. After she had gotten the picnic basket in one hand she slowly reached for your arm with her other as if asking you if it was okay, you once again nodded in agreement. Pandora linked your arms together with a smile on her face and then she led you out of the castle. 
You two silently walked together arm and arm toward The Forbidden Forest. You started to slow your walking when you realized where she was leading you to, you sent her a questioning look. “We'll be fine, I promise. You'll like where we're going.” 
A big part of you trusted Pandora more than you'd like to admit, but you couldn't help but be hesitant. You never went into The Forbidden Forest. You had heard the horrible stories rumors of past students that had ventured off into the forest and the beasts that resided in it. 
The idea of going in scared the hell out of you but with a simple squeeze of your arm and that damn smile you started to happily follow her in.
As you walked into the forest you realized it wasn't as terrifying as people made it out to be. It was actually quite beautiful in its own way the farther you walked in. Sure it was dark and sometimes the shadows would play tricks on your mind but having Pandora help more than you thought it would.
She somehow managed to calm and spike your anxiety all at the same time.
Eventually she led you to a small clearing surrounded by fireflies, trees, small hills and a lake with grass and flowers covering the floor. Close by there was something that appeared to be a wooden arch, you felt your eyes widen when you noticed what was laying under the arch.
There were two unicorns lying next to each other, they seemed to be sleeping. It was a unicorn den and it was breathtaking. 
While you were distracted by the beauty of the clearing and the shock of the unicorns Pandora had managed to set up a little picnic. There were small sandwiches, fruits and candies. She was already sitting down on the picnic blanket patting the spot next to her to have you join her.
You silently sat down next to her, your thoughts consuming you. You didn't want your overthinking to ruin this moment but you couldn't help it.
You had followed her into the ‘dangerous’ Forbidden Forest blindly. You had let her come into your life more than you thought you ever would. You had started to grow comfortable with her. Why was she doing this? Part of you was scared it was just a sick and twisted prank, but the rational side of you knew better Pandora wasn't that type of person, she wouldn't do that to someone (unless that someone deserved it). You just had to know why.
“Pandora? Can I ask you something?” For a moment you thought that your voice was too quiet for her to hear but it seems you were wrong since Pandora turned to give you all her attention with a small nod to let you know she was listening. 
It took all your courage to start talking, to not back down. “Why the sudden interest in me? We've shared classes for years now and I didn’t even know you knew my name until you sat with me in Divination. I'm just confused.”
Pandora looked away for a moment as if she was processing your words. “I've always known who you were, Y/N. I also know how shy you are, I never wanted to make you uncomfortable. So I was waiting for the perfect moment to introduce myself.. but I realized that there's no such thing as the perfect moment.”
You couldn't help but be skeptical about her answer, it made no sense to you. What was the need for a ‘perfect moment’? “Why would you need a ‘perfect moment’ just to try to be my friend?” 
A small smile spread across Pandora's face while a soft chuckle fell from her lips. She looked at you with those beautiful eyes, honesty with a hint of amusement lingered in them. 
“Who said I wanted to be your friend?” Before you could completely process what she meant her hand cupped the side of your face while her thumb crested your cheek softly. “I don't want to be just your friend, Y/N. I want to hold your hand, to take you on dates, I want to spoil you rotten and I really want to kiss you.”
To say you were stunned by her answer was an understatement. You could faintly hear your heart in your ears while a shiver ran down your back.
This felt like a dream. You had dreamt about this, more times than you could count. The only way you knew this was real was because you could still feel her hand on your cheek. You could feel how soft her hand was, how warm it was against your cold skin. It felt perfect. 
You two felt perfect. 
Pandora was eccentric, lively and so free. You tend to keep to yourself, you're quiet and observant. You balanced each other out. 
You don't know what came over you but before you could talk yourself out of it you softly pressed your lips to Pandoras'. Your heart started to race as your lips met hers. A wave of warmth washed over you as you relished in the feeling of Pandora's soft lips. 
You drew back slightly, and you felt your breath catch in your throat, your cheeks felt hot. As you look into Pandora's eyes, you saw a beautiful mixture of sweetness and love in them.
She smiled at you and pulled you in for another kiss as soft and perfect as the last one.
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°
73 notes · View notes
I feel like the fandom is overlooking Adam.
I mean his power, personality and role is heavily mistaken by most of the fandom.
Power: Alastor is not stronger than Adam, yet people still try to find excuses about this.
“Alastor has a deal with Lilith that limits his powers for the angels!“ (As if they have the script of season 2 or something)
“Alastor mocked/mistook Adam that’s why he lost!” (Mmhm as if Adam didn’t send him to direct death by one shot)
“Nifty took care of him!” (Really?)
These annoy me so much. For people to think that someone who destroyed the whole Hotel with a single shot, is less powerful than Alastor.
Most are Alastor glazers anyway.
Personality/The trauma he went through: Even though maybe the show is going to take a different turn, Vivzie can’t deny this plot anymore. Lucifer ruined Adam’s life. Lucifer is not a saint. Yet, the fandom views Adam as if he is just evil for evil’s sake.
And I’m just stating the things we saw in the actual show, I’m not even talking about the trauma Lilith, and Abel and Cain situation gave him.
Role: Adam has… Too much potential to only be left as a “Jackass season 1 antagonist” Yet most of the fandom wants to see him like this.
His redemption arc would be nice to see, since we know Vivzie is planning to have 5-6 seasons this could be a good plotline.
Sorry for the little rant.
I agree. Because he's the bad guy people dismiss his.
He almost KILLED Alastor in a fight that didn't last very long. And yeah Alastor selling his soul to Lilith for power is a good theory but until the second season comes out it's just that a theory.
Adam was the first human soul into heaven so he would be the strongest one they got. Ten thousand years is a long time to get good at using your powers. And yeah he cut the hotel in half like it was a slice of cake.
Nifty took care of him....... Bitch snuck up behind him and got lucky. I guarantee that if Adam knew she was there, she'd be the one to have died.
Yeah Lucifer did ruin Adam's life and doomed humanity in one fell swoop. You can't deny that. Adam in Eden was made with Innocence and purity, I doubt very much he was an asshole back then but the book of Hell is made to make it look that way.
The trauma from everything that came after the betrayal and the apple, yeah you'd probably become a bitter person too.
There is SO much potential for Adam to come back on later seasons to get redeemed and have an actual character arc but I think it's like I've said before he was a one and done villain his purpose is done, so long see you never.
It's a waste if they don't bring him back but they likely won't.
It would make a great plot line especially if he came to care for the people at the hotel like family and saw the error in his ways.
It's okay! I had a rant of my own lol
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m1ckeyb3rry · 21 hours
Note
Hello,
I have a writing prompt for Michael Kaiser (Blue Lock): Kaiser gets into a pr relationship with an actress and they eventually bond and fall in love.
I think he would have a hard time because of his feelings of worthlessness, but this guy has so much potential, I swear, I love him so much.
If you want to go for a "dark side of Hollywood" type of concept, imagine: a young girl who was raised under the pressure of becoming "the perfect star" and surrounded by the chaos of the industry (Idk, the movie Black Swan comes to mind, or the typical representation of Marilyn's life, something along the lines). I think he could bond with someone who is in a similar mind space as him, but who externalizes it differently, remaining kind and such. He definitely needs someone who is empathetic and can see through his insecurities, and I really like the concept of two characters who are hurt helping each other heal.
If you don't want that much drama, scratch the idea of a hurt oc. Think about someone with an "entrepreneur" mindset: someone ambitious, confident, and level headed, who (again) is empathetic and would call him out and help him grow (I'm thinking about sae, but emotionally competent lol).
You don't really have to go for any of this though, it's just meant to get you inspired to write something for my boy Kaiser. I hope it's not too much. Also, there's no rush at all!!
Thank you in advance. I hope you have a good day 🩷
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── THE INSTRUMENT
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Synopsis: Michael Kaiser is like a rose, and you are the songbird he cannot bear to lose.
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Event Masterlist
Pairing: Kaiser x Reader
Chapter Word Count: 6.8k
Content Warnings: fake dating trope, implied/referenced abuse, call me tabito karasu the way i assassinate kaiser’s character in this, open ending, relationship dynamics many would consider…interesting…
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A/N: hiiii anon ty for requesting!! i hope that i wrote kaiser in a somewhat satisfactory way 😫 this is my first time writing for him so idk if i got him right 😓 also i have NO idea why but for some reason i decided to write this in the present tense which i literally have never done?? so if it sounds off that’s why 💔 i’m so sorry i really don’t know what possessed me SKDJFSHKL
Additional: part of my 500 follower event! see the event description and rules to make a request of your own.
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It’s hot and like a bruise, your first phone call with Michael Kaiser. He’s that brand of aggravating and just shy of painful to speak with; morbidly, you wish for the conversation to manifest as some kind of actual injury, perhaps on your upper arm, so you can poke at it until it is tender and blooming. But of course, that sort of thing isn’t possible, so you amuse yourself by tapping your fingers against the counter and considering what you might eat for dinner.
“Did you hear me?” he snaps when you do not respond to his proposition immediately. He speaks with an accent, clipped and short, lending severity to his words even when he’s saying nothing of note. “Miss L/N. It’s in both of our best interests to cooperate.”
He’s not wrong about this. It’s the only reason you’ve stayed on the call for as long as you have ��� it’s in your best interest. It’s the same for him, too, and the thought almost makes you laugh, because who would’ve expected your interests and his to ever align?
“Of course I heard you,” you say, twisting open your bottle of water, taking a sip and idly wondering if he can hear an accent when you speak, too. It’s difficult for you to notice your own, but maybe to him, you sound as odd as he does to you. “You should learn patience, Mr. Kaiser. Such a heavy request you’re making of me, and yet you demand my answer immediately?”
He huffs. “It’s not something you need to dwell on.”
“It might be,” you say, though it’s not at all. Your mind was made up the moment he asked; everything after that has been nothing more than a ploy to irritate him. You’re good at that, at irritating people. Michael Kaiser is not an exception.
“Miss L/N,” he says again, something like a darker version of pleading creeping into his tone. “Your answer. Now.”
“Well, you already knew before you asked, didn’t you? Naturally, I’ll do it,” you say. “It’s a mutually beneficial partnership. Though I expect you to really try your best, Mr. Kaiser, or else it’ll all be for naught.”
“I could say the same to you,” he says.
“Between the two of us, who is the actress?” you say, chuckling when he is silent. “I am sure that I will be convincing. It’s you who I worry for. Hiding your true feelings has never been one of your strengths, has it? Or you wouldn’t be speaking to me at all.”
“Shut up,” he says after a moment has passed. “I doubt your acting skills are anything to brag about.”
“I know you’ve watched my movies,” you say, and when he doesn’t refute this, you beam. “Have you really?”
“Only because someone I know suggested I should,” he says. “If I want to love you, then I have to understand you. That’s what he told me.”
“And what did you think?” you say.
“I thought that I don’t plan to love you at all, and then I told him as much,” he says, the force of his eye roll transmitting even over the phone. You’re not sure if he’s acting deliberately obtuse or if he really thinks you care about this inane conversation he’s describing, but either way you sigh, because his answer is so telling of his personality.
“I was talking about my movies,” you say.
“I don’t prefer the genre,” he says, and then he’s hanging up with a promise to call you later, if he is so inclined. He doesn’t tell you not to call him, but you feel like he implies it, so you vow to set your phone aside and pay him no mind for the rest of your evening.
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I’m dating Michael Kaiser, you type in the body of your email to your manager, who you are certain will be so delighted by this news that he will combust spontaneously upon hearing it. You want to type it again, this unbelievable turn of events, so you do. I’m dating Michael Kaiser. Then you delete the repetition, reverting it once again into a formal email, instead of a giddy celebration over an event which should not prompt giddiness or anything resembling it.
It’s a relationship meant to salvage his ruined reputation and boost your career in one fell swoop, and so it’s a relationship that can only work if it’s formed between you two in particular. He, who is a foul-mouthed soccer prodigy, known better for his crass treatment of others than any actual skills he may possess, and you, a rising star who will do anything to be famous and are already of a serviceable status to be seen with him.
Despite your burst of excitement, the prospect of dating Michael Kaiser isn’t actually a thrilling one. The rumors of his horrid demeanor aren’t rumors, and you know this well, albeit through secondhand accounts. Cruelty is the way that he operates, his so-to-speak basal mode, and because it is so intrinsic to his being, you do not fancy that he will deviate from that malicious rule, even for you.
But you are accustomed to a false existence. Donning a facade and masquerading as a person who you are not is the only thing you are good at, are good for, and this time is no different than every other. You will put on the mask of a woman who is loved by Michael Kaiser, who has tamed that mad emperor and turned him into her sweet pet, and you will once again fool the world into believing you.  
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He’s doing an interview today. You’re only aware because he texts you right before and tells you to turn on the TV to a channel you’d never choose if you had a say in the matter. But you’re intrigued and he refuses to explain further, so you do as he commands and find yourself watching as he reclines back in a leather armchair and smirks at the host, who’s clearly nervous.
She’s pretty, her hands shaking but her expression serious. You’ve never seen her before, which means she’s new. Of course, that’s not a surprise; only someone very inexperienced or very stupid would invite Michael Kaiser to their show, and she does not seem to be particularly stupid, so her affliction is the first. 
“Um, Mr. Kaiser, it’s a pleasure to have you with us,” she says, like she cannot quite believe that he is actually there, or like she is afraid of what he might take offense at, or some combination of the two.
“It’s a pleasure to be here,” he says, all roguish and self-assured, which is such a contrast to his typically surly demeanor that you have to commend the girl for keeping her composure.
They speak at length about his soccer career, throwing around words you do not understand and do not care to. It’s so boring you almost power down the television and tell him you think as much, but then the girl clears her throat, her face turning a comical shade of red as her fists clench the paper she’s been reading off of.
“This last question is from our viewers, but it’s personal, so if you don’t want to answer, then it’s not a problem,” she says, squirming in her chair, probably hoping he does not humiliate her. It will be bad for her career if he does, even if by now everyone knows what kind of person he is.
“Go on, then. I feel like we’ve built a rapport here, so I don’t mind it as much if it’s from you,” he says. It’s a perfectly packaged sentiment. His PR team must have tortured him into this new persona. You try to imagine it — it’s definitely a humorous thought, picturing the Bastard München representative slamming Michael Kaiser’s face into a bowl of water for every snarky comment he makes. Unrealistic, though. They would never risk compromising his performance like that.
“There’s rumors that you’re seeing Y/N L/N, the actress. A source who claims to be close to you both mentioned it online, and people can’t stop talking about the possibility. Neither you nor Miss L/N have addressed it, though, and our viewers were hoping you might…?” She cringes back, already preparing for one of his tirades, but he only smiles genially and winks at the camera. You remind yourself to tell him later that he’s laying it on too thick, even if you are enjoying this new character that he’s playing up for the sake of it.
“Y/N L/N? I’m shocked that you think I’m handsome enough to date someone like her,” he says. Your phone buzzes — it’s your manager, crowing about how impressed he is with your ‘boyfriend’ and his presence of mind. 
“So it’s a no?” the interviewer says, almost hopefully. He’s mysterious when he shrugs, mysterious and more than a little coy, as if she’s flattering him and he’s too shy to accept the praise.
“If Miss L/N ever deems me to be worthy of her, then it’s a yes in a heartbeat,” he says. It’s an excellent setup for his redemption, and the girl plays into it so beautifully that you tell your manager to send her flowers or some chocolate at the earliest possible opportunity.
“I think that you’ve shown yourself to be an excellent candidate today,” she says.
“Have I? I’ve really been trying to prove myself,” he says. Dreamy sighs ripple through the live studio audience. Someone whistles. It’s all very romantic and fairy-tale-esque, although he is far from being any kind of prince.
“You’re doing great,” the girl assures him. “I’m sure that, if Miss L/N is watching, she’ll have no choice but to be smitten.”
“If she’s watching? Oh, the thought didn’t even cross my mind,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. You shouldn’t have doubted him and his audacity; he’s fallen into the role as if he were born to play it. “How embarrassing. I’ve just confessed to her on live television without even knowing if she’s interested…”
He’s actually blushing. You are doubly awed — he’s a natural-born talent. It’s a shame that he’s devoted to soccer; he could make it out like a bandit in the acting industry.
“No, no, don’t be embarrassed. How could she ever reject someone like you?” she assures him. How, indeed! At the moment, you are so pleased that you could kiss him. He’s better than any co-star you’ve ever had to work with, in that he is making your job exponentially easier instead of exponentially more difficult.
“If she really is watching, then I can only pray she heard you say that part,” he says, waving in greeting, presumably at you. “Hello, Miss L/N. I really admire you, so if you find me at all agreeable, then I would quite like it if you would say yes to the date I’m going to ask you on.”
He’s made the world swoon and your social media mentions triple. People are begging you to say yes, to give him a chance, to see how he has changed. They want to live through you, and you will let them.
When he calls you, you tell him you were thrilled by his performance. This causes him to shoot back that he finds you insufferable and condescending, to which you say that it’s what makes you and him such a perfect pair. Then you recite an address, and he asks you what you’re going on about. You answer that it is the place where you will have your first date, and then you hang up before he can respond, just so that you can deny him the chance to do it to you first. 
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Cameras flash in your faces as you enter the restaurant your manager has booked a reservation at. Michael Kaiser’s arm is wrapped around your waist, and it’s nauseatingly domestic, the kind of scene that would be the cover for one of those coming-of-age movies your agent loves booking for you. You wait for the frantic sound of camera shutters to slow, and then you tug on his sleeve.
“What is it?” he says. It’s quiet enough that no one else can hear, which is why it’s devoid of any warmth, but you are unruffled.
“Your tie,” you say. “It’s not crooked, but we will pretend that it is, and I’ll fix it so that there is something sweet to accompany the tabloid articles that will come out tomorrow.”
Your hands reach for his neck, and he does something you do not comprehend — flinching back, he shakes his head. When he realizes he’s done this, he grits his teeth, like the anger can make up for the temporary weakness. You do not press the issue, merely furrowing your brow and gazing up at him, doing your best to ensure that your eyes remain soft, so that the exchange is not misinterpreted by the parasites around you.
“No,” he says. “Do something else, but leave my tie alone.”
“Alright,” you say. It’s not sensible for you to argue, and anyways it doesn’t matter much what you are doing, as long as you are doing something. Humming to yourself, you adjust the lapels of his jacket. The cameras go off again. You pretend like you do not notice, like the world consists of only you two, and then you interlace your fingers with his, allowing him to drag you into the restaurant behind him.
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It’s your turn to be interviewed. You’re wearing a dress, your legs crossed at the ankles — it’s demure and practical and prevents anyone from leering at you, so it’s been a habit of yours for quite a while. The interviewer is female, though, which calms you a bit. She’s older, around your mother’s age, and the wrinkles on her forehead remind you that you should call your parents and arrange for them to meet your doting boyfriend.
“Miss L/N, I can’t begin to tell you how excited I am to finally meet you!” the woman says. You think her name may be Anne, but she hasn’t introduced herself to you yet, so you’re not certain.
“You are too kind. If anything, it’s an honor for me to be here,” you say. The audience really likes that, when you are humble and shy and so darling. It’s palatable and easy for them to digest, or that’s what your manager tells you. 
“Tell us about your upcoming projects,” she says after giving you the appropriate amount of praise for your charming personality.
“I’m currently shooting a new romantic comedy, but I’m afraid it’s all very hush-hush, so I can’t say too much about it. I think you all will really enjoy it, though, and I’m looking forward to the day that we can discuss it at length,” you say. 
The conversation goes on like that for a bit, but you know she’s going through the motions because she has to, not because she wants to. There’s only one question she cares to ask, but if she just talks to you about your boyfriend and not your own accomplishments, then she’ll be blasted online as an anti-feminist. You hear quite frequently that this is akin to suicide in the world of marketing, so you can’t blame her.
That doesn’t stop you from having some fun. When she’s exhausted every possible avenue of questioning you about your future plans and past successes, you make as if you’re going to stand up and leave. Panic leaps across her face, and you snicker.
“We’ve spoken at such length about my acting career. You can’t possibly have any more questions about it, hm? You probably know more than my manager does!” Your attitude is balanced out by the joke. The audience laughs. It’s a fine line that you walk, but if you do not have the chance to act sharper every now and again, you believe you will die — internally if not externally — so you take such risks when you can justify them to yourself.
“You’re dating Michael Kaiser now, aren’t you?” she says. It’s a rancid curiosity she hides with a motherly type of concern. You brush off your legs, recross them, and tuck a piece of hair behind your ear.
“I am,” you say. You don’t have to play the games that he did; you both are established now. Official. A bona-fide couple. Anyways, it’s more appealing if you are outright with it.
“How has that been? You’ve really made a difference in that young man’s life, it seems,” she says.
The best way to lie is to tell the truth. “Yes, I suppose I have, but he has made an equal difference in mine. He is as good for me as I am for him; truly, I never understood what it meant when my parents called each other their ‘better halves’ until we met.”
In an hour, there will be thousands of posts online about this. If Y/N and Michael break up, then I don’t believe in love anymore! Maybe soulmates are real! Couple goals! These are the kinds of captions you are anticipating. The two of you will send screenshots to one another and laugh about how gullible the world is, and then you will strategically plan which comments to like and posts to favorite so that your message goes through. That’s the extent of your relationship with him, really, at least when the two of you are alone. The detachedness makes things much easier than they otherwise would be.
“There’s a popular theory going around that the two of you have had a secret wedding already. Is it true? Am I speaking to Mrs. Kaiser at the moment?” she says, eyes glittering like a vulture’s. She’s ready to pounce on any hesitation, any brief indecision that you might show, but you have spent more time in the spotlight than in your own parents’ home, so you don’t even waver.
“Marriage! I think we’re a bit too early in our relationship to be considering such things, and a bit too early in our lives to be rushing into major decisions like that,” you say. “If and when the time comes, you’ll be the first to know, but it won’t be for a while.”
It won’t be at all, actually. This relationship is not going to last for more than another month. Once the buzz surrounding you two dies, you and he will quietly split. It’ll be as if you never met in the first place.
Your phone rings as you’re leaving the studio. The caller ID says that it is Michael Kaiser, and the thought that he was watching your interview in the same way you watched his makes you feel odd.
“Hello?” you say.
“I’m not gonna marry you. Never-fucking-ever. If you’re expecting a ring, then put it out of your mind.”
“I wasn’t,” you say. “How else would you have liked me to answer that question?”
“Fuck if I know.”
Neither of you hang up on the other — you don’t think you can summon the wherewithal to, which is out of character for him but typical for you — though you both also don’t speak any further. He stays on the line while you drive home, breathing softly like he is sleeping, but you are sure that he is not. The point of it is lost on you, but then you drive into a tunnel and the call ends on its own, so it’s moot anyways. 
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Your parents are excited to meet Michael Kaiser. They’ve read up on him extensively, watched all his interviews and even his game highlights. Your mother calls you the night before just so she can gush to you about how handsome he is, how you’ve really done well for yourself this time around. Her approval is nice to have, though superfluous, like a luxury soap or perfume. 
Your father is the one who suggests you all go golfing. You don’t know how to play, and neither does your mother, but you recognize it’s his attempt at connecting with who he thinks is your boyfriend, so you accept. You’re not sure if Michael Kaiser knows how to play golf, or really anything besides soccer, but he is game enough to come that you suppose he must.
It’s warm out, the sun beating down on your father’s brow as he lines up the ball with his club. Michael Kaiser stands on his left, and you think he’s somehow beautiful in this lighting. Not beautiful how your many attractive coworkers are, but in a manner which is distinctly him and therefore utterly irreproducible. His body is lean and graceful, his hair shaggy and gold, though he’s dyed the tips blue in what you’re sure is a statement. The shade matches his eyes, and also the inked roses on his neck. You have long ago come to the conclusion that the flowers are also a part of that same statement, but you have yet to discover what that statement might be. 
“He’s an improvement from that last boyfriend of yours,” your mother says, leaning back so that she can pour the last few drops of soda from her empty can into her throat. You and her are sitting together in the golf cart, seeking refuge in the shade of its plastic roof, sharing the drinks that your father had bought for himself and forgotten about the instant he stepped onto the golf course.
“He is,” you say. That’s not an exaggeration, nor is it something incredible. Your last boyfriend was an old classmate of yours who loved your celebrity more than he loved you. Michael Kaiser doesn’t love you, either, but he is honest about it, and you do not love him back, so there is no resentment between you and him.
“I like the way he looks at you,” your mother says. There’s a hiss as she opens a new can of soda. It’s a vice, but whenever you remind her of it, she dismisses you. She wants to have fun while she’s on this earth, apparently. Maybe drinking five cans of soda in one sitting means her life will be shorter, but life without soda isn’t worth living anyways, or something like that. The reasoning is stupid, but you know she is loyal to it, so you have to accept it. “It’s refreshing. So gentle. You’ll be talking to someone else, and he’ll just be staring at you like he can’t quite believe you’re his.”
“I hadn’t noticed,” you say. 
Your mother is about to say something else, but she is interrupted by a loud whoop. Michael Kaiser has hit a hole-in-one, and before you can tell him to stop embarrassing himself, your father is cheering, throwing his arms around him and calling him son.
“Your father likes him, too,” your mother said. 
“Oh, he needs to stop that! I can’t believe he’s making things so awkward,” you say, getting up to reprimand him before realizing that there is an entirely foreign sheen to Michael Kaiser’s eyes as he rests his chin on your father’s shoulder. He is not quite smiling, but it is a close approximation of the expression, and when your father ruffles his hair and says that it may have been beginner’s luck but he’s proud regardless, the curve of his lips becomes deeper.
You don’t understand, but you don’t need to. You may have facilitated it, but the moment belongs to him, and your presence is as unwanted as it is unnecessary.
You sit back down and take a sip of your mother’s soda. She grins knowingly and says that you look like you are in love, too. You don’t have the heart to tell her the truth, so you hum noncommittally and say that you might be.
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You are growing fond of Michael Kaiser. It isn’t a slow realization — actually, it hits you very suddenly one day. He hands you a bouquet of flowers before opening the passenger door of his car for you. You ask him why he’s brought you peonies instead of roses, and he says it’s because he despises roses. It’s such an absurd answer and he says it with such a straight face that you have to cough in order to disguise your choked laughter. 
“Those must be some other kind of flower, then,” you say, pointing at but not touching his tattoos, at the delicate petals which fold over his pulse, azure and bright and silky. 
“No, those are roses,” he says, his knuckles growing white on the steering wheel. Normally, you wouldn’t ask further, but today you want to prod at his bruise of an existence, so you turn the music down and hug the peonies to your chest.
“But you despise roses,” you say.
“It’s a good reminder,” he says. “No flower lies quite as well as a rose does.”
That is when you are certain that you are partial to him. It is an unavoidable fact and also a treacherous one, but true notwithstanding. 
You put the peonies in a vase of water when you get home that night and hope they never die, although you know that they will be gone within the week. It’s how time works. The peonies will die and you two will break up and you’ll have nothing but a bare kitchen counter and thoughts of his intricacies to remember him by. 
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There are no paparazzi around on the night when he wraps your hands around his throat. You are alone with him, sequestered away in the living room of his mansion, a bowl of popcorn shoved between the two of you while a movie plays in the background. This seclusion defeats the original purpose of the relationship entirely, but you sense that that original purpose is no longer fully applicable, so you do not refuse when he calls you and demands you come.
There’s a blanket tossed over your legs, the brilliant colors of his soccer club’s emblem faded from repeated washes. It’s warm, and if you were not busily eating most of the popcorn, you’d pull it up around your shoulders. As for Michael Kaiser, he’s facing the screen, his hair tied back in a knot, a pair of glasses resting on the bridge of his nose and reflecting the visage of the lead actress as she laughs. You observe him as you snack. You’ve seen this movie before and didn’t really like it, so you’re not missing much. He’s more interesting by far.
“I know that woman,” you say, so that he has to acknowledge you.
“Hm,” he says.
“She’s a jerk,” you say. 
“Sounds like your kind of company,” he says. You scoff, because he’s not wrong. He keeps watching the movie, and you keep watching him, until a thought occurs to you.
“Can I call you Michael? Even when it’s just us two,” you ask. He purses his lips. The actress screams. Her character has just died, but the scene is poorly shot and even more poorly acted, so it’s not as heart-wrenching as it should be. You would’ve done better, but your agent doesn’t want you taking any gory roles, and your manager agrees. In his professional opinion, it’ll ruin the doll-like persona you’ve spent so long cultivating. He’s probably right. It’s hard to adore a doll once you’ve watched it die so gruesomely.
“You can do whatever you want,” he says.
“Okay,” you say, swallowing another mouthful of popcorn, the salt lingering on your tongue long after the popcorn itself is gone. “Michael.”
“Yes?” he says.
“Nothing,” you say. “I just wanted to say your name.”
“Okay,” he says. “Y/N?”
He’s never called you that in private. Of course, when you’re out and about, he must refer to you with such familiarity, but in private you’ve never been anything but Miss L/N. It’s a change but a good one. You don’t want to ever be Miss L/N again. Not to him.
“Yes?” you say.
“I’m trying to watch this movie,” he says. “It has high ratings, so be quiet and allow me to finish.”
“It’s shitty,” you say, yawning and leaning back against the mountain of pillows you’ve created for yourself. “Overly gratuitous with its use of fake blood.”
“Right, because that’s a cardinal sin,” he says dryly.
“Sorry, but it’s hard to enjoy films when you know how they’re made,” you say. He picks up the remote and pauses the movie. You blink, because that’s about the last thing you expected from him. Then he turns the TV off entirely and you realize you’ll probably never be able to predict what he does next, so you should stop trying already.
“I know how movies are made,” he says.
“Did you have a secret acting career you never told me about?” you say. It’s a joke, but you also wouldn’t be surprised if it’s true. He’s taken to performing like a fish takes to water, and every day you tell him he should quit soccer and devote his life to cinema because of this uncanny skill.
“Not me, but my mother was an actress, and my father was a director,” he says. 
“Was?” you say.
“Maybe they still are,” he says. “I don’t know. We’re not on speaking terms.”
“Why not?” you say. He takes your hands in between his, and you can make out immediately that his instinct is to hurt you, to press his fingertips into your wrists so hard that they leave marks. It’s to his credit that he fights back the urge, fights it back and arranges your palms against his carotid arteries. His jaw clenches and his pupils dilate as he waits for you to realize; when you do, you rip your hands away for fear of wounding him further.
“Don’t pity me,” he instructs you, unpausing the movie like nothing happened. “And don’t ever bring it up again.” 
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Now that you have his permission to refer to him only by his name, you develop a strange fascination with saying it. He’s amused by your new fixation, answering you in a lilting tone every time you call for him.
According to him, you are like a small nightingale, always warbling, always happy, fluttering around beside him and changing his mood for the better. Well, if you are like a nightingale, then he is like a dog, and you tell him as much when you are sitting across from him at a coffee shop.
“A dog?” he repeats, his face pinching. He’s just taken a swig of the black coffee he always orders, but you know his disgusted expression isn’t a symptom of the beverage’s bitterness. “Take that back.”
“Not in a bad way,” you say. Your own drink is sweet, so you sip on it slowly to prevent a stomach ache. “I’m not calling you pathetic. I just mean that you are amiable and lively. It’s a compliment.”
“It’s not who I really am,” he says. “Have I deceived even you? Amiable? Lively? Remember why this entire scam began in the first place — because I am neither of those things.”
“Right,” you say. “A peacock, then. Terribly vain and entirely alluring.”
He relaxes and raises his cup to his mouth again. He’ll be up late tonight, he always is when he has coffee, but it never stops him from drinking it. “That’s better.”
The reminder that whatever you have with him is not real stings more than it should. You throw away your drink almost untouched, which does cause him to raise an eyebrow, but thankfully he refrains from commenting. It’s a relief, because you don’t even know how to explain it to yourself, let alone him.
He walks you to your front porch and waits with crossed arms as you fish for the key in your purse, shoving it in the lock once you have it in your grasp. His farewell when you open the door is stilted and abnormal, so you stop him with a hand on his arm before he can go.
“Michael,” you say. You’ve never said his name like this before. It comes from a place raw and deep within you, a place that you are certain is purple and black like a wound. You say it like you love him, and you think it must be because you do.
“Yes?” he says. It’s the way he always responds to you, his voice like a song, a small smile on his ordinarily strict face — though today, he is not smiling. Instead, he is frowning, like he has come to an understanding that he would have rather not reached.
“Never mind,” you say. “Goodbye.”
“Goodbye,” he says. He drives away, his car disappearing around the corner, leaving you standing alone in the still-open doorway and wondering how you will survive the day when he disappears permanently. 
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You’re not sure what it is about him that makes pretending difficult, but suddenly, it’s a struggle for you to maintain your aloof front. You find it disconcerting, that he has taken this aspect of your identity and rendered it entirely null and void; it’s even more disconcerting that he has done it unwittingly and unsympathetically. If you loved him any less, you would hate him, because he has stolen who you are and left you blind and fumbling, but you fell for him, and the way you landed broke something fundamental, so that it is impossible for you to get back up. 
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“I think that I love you,” you say. You are on his couch again, and there is a movie playing again, which is all too similar to a past scenario that you think about when you are lonely. Tonight, it’s some soccer documentary that you find so tedious you are driven to irrationality. 
He drops the glass of water in his hands; you reach out and catch it before it can spill, setting it on the table in front of you. 
“What?” he says. You shrug.
“I love you,” you say again, and you’re flippant about it because you’re not telling him in the hopes he loves you, too. In fact, you know that he does not, so you are using him as a confessional; after all, the minimum he owes you is sharing the burden of this sin.
“There’s no one around,” he says. “You don’t have to lie. It won’t gain us anything.”
“It hasn’t gained us anything in a long while,” you say. It’s true — your relationship isn’t trending anymore, and most of your dates are in locations where you will not be recognized. 
He stands up. The documentary continues as he paces, and a referee blows a whistle while he tangles his fingers in his hair and pulls. You stay on the couch, your eyes following his erratic movements, your hands folded in your lap.
“No, you don’t,” he says.
“I don’t what?” you say.
“You don’t love me,” he says. He wants to sound callous, you are sure of it, but the effect is lost on you. He sounds more lost than anything.
“But I do,” you respond. “Who are you to tell me I don’t?”
“Don’t,” he says. “Stop it. This instant.”
You laugh incredulously. “Do you think it’s that easy? I wouldn’t feel like this in the first place if it was.”
“Why?” he says. He’s still pacing. It’s like watching a tiger in a zoo. You want to study him, but he demands your attention in a different way. “Y/N. Why me? Why at all?”
“The reasons don’t matter, do they? I can tell you, but they won’t change anything,” you say, shrugging. “If you find yourself in the kitchen, bring water back for me. I’m thirsty.”
“Drink mine,” he says, pointing at the cup you had narrowly saved from disaster. “And quit your avoidance. Tell it to me plainly. Why?”
“Because you are you,” you say once you have drained half of his glass and your tongue is not quite as papery. “It’s a series of things; there’s not just one concrete reason. You hate roses and only drink black coffee. My mother thinks you’re handsome and my father is convinced you’re a golfing genius. You are a dog but also a peacock and then again an emperor. Don’t ask ridiculous questions and expect me to answer them when I cannot.”
“I’ll hurt you,” he says. “I’ll hurt you, Y/N, and I don’t — I don’t want to. You’re the only one who I don’t want to hurt, so just give up. It’s for the better if you do.”
“You won’t,” you say. “I don’t think you can.”
“Of course I can,” he says. “It’s the one thing I’m capable of. The only way I know how to love someone is by hurting them. I’ll do the same to you if you let me, and if you’re telling the truth, then you will let me.”
“Because I love you?” you say. “You think I’ll let you hurt me because I love you? For shame, Michael. I thought you knew me better than that.”
“Please,” he says. It’s a word he’s never said, not to you and not in his life. Its weight hangs before you, pulsating in the air like it’s tangible. “If I love you, I’ll destroy you. And then you’ll leave, and it’ll destroy me.”
It’s a selfless desire that he’s disguising as a selfish one. You’re good at pretending, but you’re not good at telling when others are. That much is obvious, because if you had any talent at the latter then you would’ve seen that he’s loved you for as long as you have loved him, maybe longer. He loves you and so he’s urging you to flee, to destroy him before he can do it to you first.
“Damned if I do and damned if I don’t, huh?” you say, exhaling and finishing off the rest of his water. “Listen to me.”
“No,” he says. His obstinance is endearing, but you throw a pillow at him instead of cooing like you want to. He catches it and tosses it back. It lands beside you with a thump. You pat it for emphasis.
“Yes,” you say. “I love you.”
He plugs his ears with his fingers. “Nope.”
“I love you, I love you — hey, I know you can hear me!” you say.
“La la la,” he shouts over your voice, sticking his tongue out petulantly. “I can’t hear you, I can’t hear you!”
“You’re cruel,” you say. “I won’t deny it. I know who you really are, Michael Kaiser. You possess cruelty in spades, but it’s in the way that a rose does. You have grown malice like thorns so that no one may come near your heart, and you think these thorns will tear me apart when I extend my hand past them. What you aren’t accounting for is that I have done so already. I have reached your heart and still I am intact. Now, what is there to cause me harm — a mere flower? But a flower can’t cause anyone harm, least of all a person such as myself. You can’t, or more importantly you won’t. I believe that you won’t.”
He stares at you. The soccer team in the documentary still playing behind him scores, and the crowd roars in approval. You stare back at him and wait.
“I hate roses,” he finally says. “I hate them a lot. They’re the worst kind of flower.”
“I don’t know about that,” you say. “I quite fancy them.”
“They prick your fingers,” he says.
“Not if you are gentle,” you say. “Not if you understand them.”
He buries his face in his hands. “Go home, Y/N.”
You do as you are told, flagging a taxi and shivering while you wait for it. You wish for things to be different, but the amount of unfulfilled wishes you’ve made outnumber the stars in the sky, so you add this one to the list and vow to move on.
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You have no desire to leave your bed the next morning, but you are also hungry, and your hunger wins out over your despair. You muster up the energy to roll out of your sheets and trudge downstairs, but you are miserable as you do so. You are utterly miserable, and the fact that you are only worsens the feeling, trapping you in an endless kind of loop.
When you enter your kitchen, you are surprised to see a pot of flowers sitting innocently on your counter. You didn’t put them there, so you should feel afraid, but they’re roses, and they’re the same arresting shade as the sky, so you don’t. You only grin, slowly and then all at once as you begin to giggle helplessly.
There isn’t a card or an explanation provided, but you don’t need either. You already know who they are from.
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38 notes · View notes
gashotbox · 3 days
Note
sorry 🎀 anon back again bc i figured ppl would want some fart content instead <3 huge privilege for me but my gf is just very obsessed w huffing my farts and u do not know love until u have ur gfs face pressed against ur ass listening to her take deep whiffs of ur farts as u push them out on her pretty face, and her little whines afterwards too like <<33 ! sometimes i just look at her face and think “wow she’s so pretty im so glad im the one who gets to fart on her” lol
this is adorable. sooo fucking cute that she's so eager to bury herself all up ur nasty crack .. eunghh flooding her face with gas knowing shes just as obsessed with it as u are. hearing and feelin her panting and huffing up ur hole as you blast out all those pent-up, relieving gas bubbles at the end of a long day.. mghm nice to hear somebody living the dream!
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erabu-san · 1 day
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HI ERABU!! FREMILLEI ANON HERE!! (Not here to talk about fremillei ironically lol)
Sorry about your trouble with Cyno and Tighnari :( I totally get the frustration of just seeing something as a cute friendship and having 90% of the fandom see them as romantic.
We live in a society (the genshin fandom). Us platonic Cyno and Tighnari enjoyers have to stick together✊
With that being said, I've been kinda on a Collei and Tighnari brainrot the past few weeks sooo, hope you don't mind if I ramble about them👀
Can I just say, how much I adore their dynamic. Whether it's father/daughter or big brother/little sister, they're so sweet and care about each other so much🥹 On Collei's side, besides Amber, Tighnari was one of the first people she's ever opened up to, or has felt comfortable around. He's so kind and patient with her and she's really grateful for it!! (Her relationship with Cyno is similar but I do think it was a little awkward at first since Cyno reminded her of her past...)
And on Tighnari's side, well, at first he saw her as a student. But he immediately felt this...urge to help her. Like she had been through so much, and he felt like he had to try and help her in some way. (You brother comes in at the middle of the night asking you to take care of this random traumatized child wyd). He enjoyed getting to know her, and teaching her. And he felt such a strong sense of pride when she gets a good grade in a test, or is able to write something coherently. Overtime, he got to see more of her, more of her personality and quirks, and he developed so much affection for her, treating her like he would a little sister💞
I do think that maybe Collei has trouble talking to him about things. Maybe since she's scared of being judged (she knows he wouldn't, but the feeling is still there). So she ended venting to trees. I like to imagine one day, Tighnari was looking for her when he overheard her talking to a tree. At first he was like "why is she doing that??" But decided to leave since he didn't wanna eavesdrop. But then, he caught her talking about HIM.
"Master Tighnari is so patient and kind with me... I know he would never judge me, or make me feel bad. But...I still find it hard to talk to him. He's usually busy...I don't wanna bother him."
And that just broke his heart :( He wanted Collei to feel comfortable talking to him, he WANTED her to come to him whenever she had a problem. He left, but after that, he would subtly encourage her to talk to him if she needed to, reminding her that she wasn't a bother or anything like that, and that he cared about her. And it made her happy to hear!! And she slowly started coming to him more often!!
Also SLIGHT fremillei (I'm sorry I can't escape the chokehold they have on me) I picture this scene, where after Collei finds out about Freminet being apart of the Fatui, Collei immediately runs home, so many emotions going through her head. Hurt, fear, guilt- she's so overwhelmed. She arrives back and while she's passing by Tighnari's house (house? Cottage?? What do you call those?😭) he calls out to her, noticing something's wrong. She stops, and looks at Tighnari, breathing heavy from running. She doesn't know where to begin, what she should tell him, IF she should tell him. But, she looks at him, looks at the concern on his face, and runs towards him and hugs him tightly, sobbing into his chest. Tighnari is confused, but he doesn't question it, and immediately wraps his arms around her.
"It's okay...I'm here."
I'M SO SORRY FOR THE LONG ASK BUT THEY'VE BEEN ON MY BRAIN. I feel like not a lot of people talk about them alone, which kinda sucks since their relationship is so sweet :(
Again, sorry to bombarde you with the long ask😭 You art is beautiful, and I love hearing your genshin Sumeru headcanons. Thank you for listening to my rambles. Have a lovely day and take care of yourself!! <3
WAAAAH I AM SORRY FOR LATE ANSWER BUT WHEN I READ THIS I WAS ON THE FLOOR I LOVE IT, IT IS SO ADORABLE
Anon you have such a big brain and I HOPE YOU KNOW THAT 🫵
Oh the part when Collei hugs Tighnari and he is just saying that he is here
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voxisdaddy · 6 hours
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after hours of punishing vox and edging him and stuff he’s so deep in subspace he just begs you to praise him 😕😕 i just love the idea of his bratty walls coming down and just wanting the readers approval, like being all weepy about it!! he puts up with so much shit (and gives out the same energy) for so long all day that he just wants his mommy to be nice to him 😔 mmfph subby vox just 😍😍
Tender
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THANK YOU ANON I just wanna care for this lil needy brat so badly I swear <3 also I like how my name is VoxisDaddy and yet every time I write him in a sexual context, he's a subby bottom and occasional pervert lol
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Pairing: Vox x Reader
Type: Headcanons + kinda rambly | Fluff
C/TW: Suggestive content, marking this 18+ because of it, needy Vox, tears, mommy kink, fluffy aftercare, sub!Vox x Dom!Reader, reader implied as fem im sorry :c
In which after hours of endless (pleasurable) torture, all Vox wants is his mommy's sweetest affections <3
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𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Whatever the fuck it is he did to deserve this overwhelming pleasure he's already long forgotten about. Poor baby's too fucked dumb :c
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Once you finally detached yourself from him, his legs fall limp against the bed, quivering. You could poke or accidentally graze his thigh and his legs would twitch rather suddenly. "Mommy" falling from his lips in short mumbles
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ He would so panic when you get up to leave, reaching a clawed hand out to grasp at your arm desperately. He'd softly tug on your arm as he babbles almost incoherently
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ You swear you can hear something about "mommy" in there somewhere—which is new. He normally used that term during or leading up to it, never after
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Though perhaps by now you already understand what he wants since this is likely not your first rodeo like this. Gently you'd pry his hand off of you and he wouldn't put up much of a fight sine he doesn't wanna accidentally scratch you. He'd look up at you pleadingly though; don't leave him :c
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ You'd have to reassure him and kiss his knuckles softly. Saying something like—"I'm just gonna go get something to clean you up baby, I'll be right back." No longer than a few moments do you come back with a damp rag and carefully run it over his quivering thighs and the surrounding area. He lets you do this, his gaze never leaving you
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Once he's all cleaned up and not feeling so sticky anymore this man will absolutely not let you leave
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ He's actually so fucking clingy, muttering into your skin about how good you made him feel and if he did a good job—asking if he's forgiven for being such a brat
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Maybe you'd contemplate this just to be a bit mean cuz he's really been unnecessarily rude lately, today being the final straw, but looking at him all clingy, teary eyed, and desperate for your love you can only sigh; "You did so good for me baby. So much self control."
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ The lights in the city didn't shut off too early this time :D
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ I feel like in his fucked dumb foggy brain, he'd silently beg to suck on your tit. Being the good boy he is, he waits for permission and goes for it—whimpers softly at your quiet praises
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Ngl I kinda see the clinging seeping over to the next day
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Like you'd be sitting on the couch sipping on your morning drink and Vox would walk over in more comfortable clothing. You'd raise a brow—he usually heads to work as soon as possible, what the hell is he still doing here? He'd wave you off, giving some kind of excuse then sitting on the floor in between your legs, resting against you as you watch tv. his arms resting on your thighs as he sits back and relaxes his sore af body
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Either takes the rest of the day off and follows you around like a lost puppy or practically clings to you as he sits in his office chair working-or maybe on your lap while you hug him from behind
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ This last one is just a personal funny thing I'm picturing and it's Vox being in a noticeably good mood that day and just giving his assistant a random ass pay bonus. Side eyeing you to see if you noticed his generosity lmao
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IM SO FUCKING SORRY THIS TOOK LIKE A WEEK AND A HALF TO COME OUT ANON SVAOVBNO
Sometimes my posts get shadowbanned, I'd really appreciate it if you not only liked but also reblogged <3 no pressure, just a thought!!
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chunghasweetie · 6 hours
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𝐏𝐔𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐄 | J.JK
— pairing | fem!oc x tattoo artist!jjk
— summary | jungkook’s still closing up after a long day of work. she went to his shop right after work and she was drained. luckily jungkook was just the right one to cheer her up
— warning | bad writing (i’m doing my best)
unprotected sex, cursing, praising, just sex lol
— word count | 1.3k words
— song suggestion | put it on me — austin mahone
Jungkook had been working at the shop all day. All sorts of clients going in and out of his shop.
His employees had already gone home a while ago. He was still closing up for the night.
He was exhausted and drained. He just wanted to see his girl, though she had never left his mind through his shift.
The clock had just struck 12pm and JK’s Ink Lounge had finally closed up for the night. It was late, and she was barely getting off work around the same time as well.
He hadn’t seen her since last night because of their busy schedules.
She was a nurse and would work insane hours at the clinic. The two hadn’t had a work break in quite some time.
A knock was heard on the locked door of the shop. “We’re closed!” Jungkook called out before looking at the door, realizing it was actually his girlfriend, not a customer.
“Oh shit.” He cursed to himself, getting out and unlocking the door for her.
Jungkook's face lights up when he sees her enter his shop.
“Sorry baby. I forgot my key.” She apologized, pecking her boyfriend’s lips.
“It’s okay beautiful. What made you come here? Aren’t you tired? I thought you were at home.” He asked her, a hint of concern in his voice.
“Wanted to see my boo.” She hummed. “Never get to really see you anymore.”
He exhaled, “Yeah I know.”
“I got dropped tonight so I thought my lovely boyfriend would pick us up dinner on the way home.” She fluttered her lashes cutely.
“Anything for my baby.”
“I’ll help you close. Just do your online stuff and I’ll clean.” Y/n walked to the front desk, setting her purse down.
“No no baby.” Jungkook stopped her. “You gotta be tired Y/n. I don’t want to do that to you.”
“It’s not that bad baby.” She chuckled, grabbing some cleaning products to properly prep the studio. “I want to help you.”
Y/n could almost run the studio on her own. She knew everything and was more than willing to help her man out.
“You’re so amazing.” He kissed her cheek. “I’ll hurry.”
“No rush.” She shook her head, getting straight to cleaning.
The two worked on the closing duties, making sure every part of the studio was ready for tomorrow.
“How was work today baby?”
“It was okay.” Y/n shrugged. “I’m so drained.” She complained, taking a seat on his lap.
Jungkook immediately notices her drained expression, and his face falls. He pulls her into a tight hug, rubbing her back soothingly. "What happened, mama?"
“Short staffed again so I was kinda irritated.” She sighed.
He sighs softly, understanding her fatigue all too well. "You know I'm here for you, mama. Always."
His thumb gently strokes the side of her face, trying to ease her stress. "Why don't you let me take care of you for once?"
“Mm no. It’s my job to take care of you.” She protested.
He chuckles softly, shaking his head at her stubbornness. "That's my job, mama. You're too tired to argue, and I can tell you need some pampering."
“You’re so hard working baby. You’re better than me because you can take so much.” He hummed. “Sorry about your day baby.”
His thumb gently traces the outline her lips, before gently kissing them. "Let me take care of you tonight.
“Please.” She gave in, “I need it.”
"You're too beautiful to say no to." He carries her to a guest futon and sits down with her, his arm around her waist as he kisses her once again.
He groans softly, kissing her deeper and harder as his hands begin to roam her body.
"You know what I'm thinking about, pretty?" He whispers into her ear, his lips brushing against it. "I can't wait much longer. I was fucking trying to wait until we got home but— shit I can’t.”
“So fucking pretty” He whispered.
He begins to undress her, kissing every exposed inch of skin.
“Been wanting this for so long.” She spoke, “We never have time anymore.”
He groans as he hears that, his hands cupping her ass as he her you closer to him.
"Fuck I know pretty. I've wanted it just as bad you have no idea.” He lifts her up and positions himself before lowering her onto him.
“Haven’t seen you in so long.” She mumbled. “Haven’t touched you in forever.”
He nods in agreement as he thrusts up in her. "I know, baby. I've missed this too." His hands roam her body, touching every inch of it as he whispers sweet things to her.
"I love you, mama. You're so fucking beautiful." He croaked out.
His hands travel down her body and between her legs, rubbing her in just the right spot as he watches her with lust-filled eyes.
“Mm” She hummed.
Jungkook’s eyes darken at her soft moans as he leans in closer. "Do you want me to fuck you now, baby?"
He whispers hotly in your ear before nipping at her earlobe. "Because I want to fuck you so fucking bad right now. Just say the word.”
“Jungkook please. Want this so bad.” She whimpered
He growls at her whines, pulling out of her before flipping her over and pushing back into her. "Like this, baby?"
His hips piston in and out of her as he holds onto her hips, tugging her back into him as he thrusts forward.
“Fuck Jungkook— yes.”
He smirks as he listens to her pleas for more.
"Yes, baby?" He leans over her, his chest pressed against her back. "Do you like it when I fuck you rough?"
He moans at her words, his thrusts getting faster and harder. "Yeah, baby. You like when I fuck you rough like this hm? You're such a good girl for me."
He bites down on her shoulder as he reaches around and starts rubbing her clit. “So good for me.”
He smirks against her skin, feeling her getting closer to her release.
"That's right, baby. Cum for me. I wanna hear you scream my name." He thrusts into her a few more times before reaching down and starting to rub her clit furiously.
Her legs were shaking and her body was reacting all too well to his touch.
Jungkook was reaching his orgasm as well, trying to chase it with hers.
“Fuck I’m cumming.” She whined.
He groans at her words, feeling himself getting closer to his own release. "Yeah, baby. Cum for me. Cum all over my cock."
He thrusts into her as hard as he can, triggering her orgasm. "Fuck” Jungkook cursed.
“Feels so good— shit” she whimpered.
He growls at her words, feeling himself getting even closer to his release. "Yeah? Mm gonna cum all inside this pussy."
He thrusts into her a few more times before he couldn't take it anymore and cums inside her with a loud groan, filling her up.
“Shitttt” She panted, looking at how messy her pussy was because of them.
He pants hard, his forehead resting against hers as he tries to catch his breath. "Damn, baby. You felt so fucking good."
He smirks and kisses her lips gently. "Thank you, you always let me fuck you so good."
“Anything for you my love.” She giggled. “I can’t believe we had sex in here again.”
He lets out a chuckle, kissing her forehead. "Yeah, I know. I can't help it though. Everytime you walk in here I know I’m done for."
He smirks and kisses her again. "You always make me so excited.”
“You’re just lucky I can’t resist.” She laughed. “Let’s clean now so we can go get food. I’m fucking starving.”
He nods. "Yeah, let's clean up. My stomach is killing me." He pulls out of you and helps clean her up.
“I’m not done with you once we’re home.” He mumbled. “Once that food in my system I’m ready to go.”
“You can’t be serious.” She laughed.
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autistic-batfam · 2 days
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Lust
Heyo! I hope you enjoy this fic. It's my first time writing something like this lol.
Rating: M
Characters: Dick x reader
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Dick and you were sitting on the couch trying to be secrete with your flirting and cuddling with Tim and Damian in the kitchen a few feet away from you two. The siblings could sense that you needed some privacy and Tim spoke,
                “Tim, I think an evening drive would be lovely tonight, yes? We could see the sunset, I know how you love the Gotham sunset,” Tim snorted and played a long.
                “Yes, that sounds wonderful! Will you two be alright if we went?” he addressed you and Dick. You nodded eagerly. Damian went to grab the car keys from the hook at the door. “We shouldn’t be more than an hour or so, you two have fun,” They left in a hurry.
                “Fucking finally!” You said. “I thought we’d never get some time to ourselves tonight,” Dick laughed and pulled you into his lap and went for a kiss. It was electric and needy. Tongues danced around each other as they tried to swallow the other into the kiss. You sighed heavily and gently bit Dick’s bottom lip, sucking on it causing Dick to let out a deep groan. You two broke apart panting heavily; staring into each other’s eyes for a moment before going back to another needy kiss.
                “I’ve got to have you,” you said. “Please,” Your hands worked on his belt undoing it with ease with quick nimble fingers. Dick could feel himself getting aroused and painfully hard from the friction of your thighs rubbing against him as you two made out sloppily. He hisses as you cupped his bulge through his boxers and Dick leaned into the touch.
                Dick wasted no time in getting your clothing off fully, being thrown across the room haphazardly. Dick moved his mouth to your neck and sucked and gently bit at the soft skin. You mewled in pleasure, your body on fire as Dick gave a series of kisses down your collar bone where he bit hard, causing you to yelp and jump.
                “Sorry, too hard?” he mumbled as he steadied your hips against his and rocked into yours. (Y/N) let out a soft sigh at the movement.
                “N-no, love. I will definitely have a love bite there tomorrow,” You toyed with Dick’s nipples; twisting and pinching them causing the clone to let out a small hiss of pleasure.
                “You’re a tease, babe,” he said as he took one of your breasts into his mouth and sucked hard.  You let out a louder moan as your sensitive nipple was being played with in Dick’s mouth. There would be another hickey there as well.
 Heat swelled in your lower belly, and Dick could feel your pussy getting wet. You wanted to touch yourself so badly, but Dick wouldn’t allow it—not without permission.
“I need you to touch me, please,” You whispered into the man’s ear. “Please, love,” Dick chuckled low and moved his hands down his lover’s body slowly teasing the hot flesh with feather light touches causing you to arch into the touch. “Shit, Dick,”
Dick reached the hem of the panties that you wore and paused for a moment to look at them. They were light blue with a small bow and lace trim; he couldn’t wait to take them off, but there would be enough time. Using one of his fingers, Dick rubbed a knuckle against the soft fabric and noticed how wet you were already. You involuntarily pushed into his touch letting out a needy moan. 
                “Fuck, you’re already so wet for me, baby,” he whispered as he rubbed them through the thin material. You let out another whimper of pleasure and hitched their hips into the touch. “How much do you want me?”
“Please, Dick, please, I need you, please,” you whispered in a husky tone. “It’s been too long!” Dick rubbed your sensitive mound a little harder making sure to not rub the sensitive bud too much.
“It has,” Dick mumbled. “God, I just want to take you hard and fast, but we’re going to take our time, got it?” you whimpered, and you closed your eyes. “I’m going to make you enjoy this time we have,”                 You sighed and slowed your hips against the other’s finger against her wet mound. “O-okay, babe,” Dick loved it when you called him pet names; it was so sexy the way it came out. He captured your mouth once again in a hot passionate kiss. You both moaned against each other’s mouths as you rocked their hips against his causing an electric tingle to go up both your spines.
                Dick stood up, easily holding his lover against his flushed body and walked them into Dick’s bedroom, where he gently laid you down on the bed. He positioned himself on top of your body making sure he wasn’t putting his full weight on yours.
                “Hey,” you quietly said as you made eye contact in the moment. Strong emotions welled up inside their chest which you could only describe as passion and love for your lover. “I’m so lucky to have you,”
Dick cupped your face in his hands and gently kissed your forehead tenderly.
“So am I,” Dick replied before giving you another gentle kiss on the lips. You kissed repeatedly like you couldn’t get enough of each other. Dick slipped a hand in between your thighs once again rubbing at your sex gently; causing you to sigh against his mouth. He could feel your want, and it only drove him crazier, but Dick pulled himself together. How he wanted to just wreck his you until your body gave out from pleasure.
You moved their hips against the fingers that were currently driving you mad trying to get more friction or anything. Dick really knew how to tease you to drive you crazy carnally. You needed more of him; you wanted to meld into Dick’s body to become one with him. You just needed Dick and only Dick.
“Dick, please, I need you,” you moaned. “Please,”
Dick chuckled as he kissed your stomach making a trail down to your panties. “Since you asked so nicely,” He hooked his fingers along the elastic and in one quick motion pulled them off your body and tossed it on the floor. With no time wasted, Dick gave one strong lick to your weeping cunt; causing you to cry out in pleasure and arch off the bed.
“Fuck! A little warning would’ve been nice,” you panted. The man only chuckled as he continued to lick and suck at the sensitive flesh. It drove you crazy.
Dick could hear you moaning and cursing under your breath as he continued to eat you out. He ran his tongue down your slit, circling the entrance which was soaking wet already. Going back up to your clit, which was swollen, Dick licked it with earnest. You arched off the bed; crying out at the intensity of pleasure you were feeling throughout your body. It was maddening; all you could do was make noise and ride the waves. You were already so close to the edge, and you knew Dick could tell by the way he was sucking at your sensitive flesh.
“Dick, Dick, Dick,” you chanted over and over again as you could feel your climax approaching just from his mouth on your cunt. “I’m close, I’m so close,” Finally, you felt your orgasm approach and it hit hard. Pleasure crashed throughout your body causing you to spasm and cry out loudly. You felt like had been cumming for minutes as Dick didn’t let up their onslaught against your pussy until you had to forcefully push him away.
                “Oh, fucking hell,” you repeated and squirmed as the orgasm subsided, but you still felt the high of the aftershocks. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as you tried to calm your breathing down. “Fuck, holy fucking shit. That was amazing, Dick,” The euphoria of the climax made you dizzy but in a good way.
                Dick felt pride in what he caused. He always loved seeing you in throws of pleasure that he created. Moving back up your body, leaving kisses here and there, he captured your mouth once again in a kiss. You could taste yourself on his lips and you licked Dick’s bottom lip getting more of yourself.
                “If you think that was amazing, just you wait until I’m fucking you hard into the mattress,” he mumbled into the kiss. That sent a shiver down your spine. “Ready for round two?” You nodded eagerly.
                Dick repositioned himself in between your legs, focused on the task at hand. He slipped one finger into your hot wet entrance pumping it in and out. Once he deemed it okay, a second finger was added. You groaned at the second intrusion and clamped down around the two digits. With the other hand, Dick gently rubbed circles on your clit. Dick took his time opening you up to be able to take his thick member. Crooking his fingers up against your wet walls, Dick brushed against the spot where he knew would drive you mad.
                “Oh shit, Dick,” you moaned and pushed down harder against his fingers. “Yeah, right there, baby,” He sped up with movements until only the room was filled with your moans and the wetness of your pussy as he fingers fucked you. Your cries got louder as they were once again nearing the edge of bliss. Dick didn’t let up; he knew you were close as he rubbed your clit harder and added a third finger inside. That sent you over. You screamed in pleasure as waves of an intense orgasm crashed through your body.
                Dick groaned at the sight of his lover in the throes of passion. Just seeing you in pure bliss almost sent him over the edge too, but luckily, he controlled himself. Warm liquid oozed out of your entrance coating his hand and the bed; he had made you squirt. He removed his fingers and tasted you on them. Another groan escaped him as he sucked on his fingers.
You lay on the bed panting as you rode your last bit of high. “Fuck,” you whispered. “That was fucking amazing, Dick,” Dick smiled at you; happy that they could bring such pleasure to you.
“We’re just getting started, love,” he said. “Do you need a minute to gather yourself?” You laughed at the question and shook your head; you were ready for another round. Dick took your legs and hooked them over his arms as he was guided by you into your hot core slowly. He moaned loudly and tried to keep himself from cumming from the sheer intensity of your hot and wet canal. You squeezed yourself around Dick’s large member a couple of times to test the waters. Every time, you could never get used to his cock being so big. You hissed in a combination of pleasure and pain. “You alright?” he asked.
“Y-yeah, it’s just been a while,” you replied. “Forgot how big you are,” Dick leaned down and kissed you, hoping it would help through the process of entering. When Dick was fully sheathed inside of you, he waited to get the all clear; giving you time to adjust to his size. You moved your hips slowly testing out the waters with each gentle thrust. Dick’s member brushed against the spot inside you deliciously and you couldn’t help but to let out a breathy moan and arched into the movement.
“You need to go faster,” you said and met his hips in a thrust. “Please, shit, go harder and faster,” Dick took that cue to do such that. He picked up his pace and threw your legs over each shoulder to get a deeper angle. All you could do was writhe under the man’s merciless pounding. The room was filled with moans and skin slapping against skin as you both chased your orgasms. Each thrust from Dick filled you to the brim over and over again. You cried out unintelligible noises, digging your heels into Dick’s shoulders as he met his every thrust into your core.
Dick was losing his control of himself. Seeing you in the throes of wanton bliss and need drove him to go harder and harder. He slipped out and without any warning, flipped you onto your stomach and entered you again in one smooth motion. You buried your face into the pillow, biting it. The new angle that Dick was pounding you with was deep and aggressive—the way you liked it. All you could do was grab the headboard and seek out your pleasure.
 You could feel Dick was closing to his climax and you wanted to be able to come together. It was like Dick knew what you wanted, and he reached around to your front and vigorously rubbed at your swollen clit. you cried out in pleasure at the assault from both sides. You moaned like a needy whore, body convulsing with every thrust and touch your climax was coming hard and fast. A scream tore through your throat as strong passion swelled throughout your entire body as your orgasm took you. It felt like it lasted forever, and you didn’t want it to end; you loved the high that came with the release. You could feel and hear Dick behind you finding his own end as his movements became erratic and then stilled as he emptied his seed inside.
Eventually, you two came down from your euphoria and you cleaned up as best as you could. Dick made sure that you were doing alright after the many rounds of orgasms you had. Lying in the bed, basking in the afterglow of the escapades, half asleep, you two talked quietly to one another until you both drifted off to sleep.
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malii-the-bonehead · 3 days
Text
The Other Woman pt5
heres part 5.. i know it took a while but honestly ive been slacking due to the rafe story im writing. i need to get more chapters of this done so that i dont have to stress about it as much as i have been.
Anyways enjoy part 5<3
Slow burn
Summary: Chris, a popular hockey player at school where Y/n went, found himself falling for the beautiful, shy girl. As time went on he found out who Y/n truly was as a person and ultimately, he had to make the choice, his girlfriend, or the other woman.
Part 5
I’m sitting in the parking lot of the cafe. Honestly, I didn’t want to be here. When I got home from the store, I found mom sprawled out on the floor, bottle in hand and puke next to her. I ended up having to drag her to bed and cleaning her mess. I wish I had the money to send her to a rehab place. She needs to get clean. I thought about texting dad and asking him, but I decided against it. I don’t want help from him. I didn’t need his help anyways.
Other than that mess, everything was fine. I ended up having spare time so I went to my plugs house and got a gram from him. Not for now, but whenever I felt like smoking. I had to restock in case, you know?
I sat in my car for about 15 minutes before receiving a text from Chris. 
You still coming? I checked the time. It was 5:34. I sent him a text back. 
I’m waiting on you, silly. I’ve been here for 15 minutes already. I put my phone down on the seat next to me. I reached into the backseat of my car and grabbed my old calculus textbook from last year. My phone rang.
I got here at 5 lol. I’ve been waiting for you since then. I’m already inside by the window. 
I quickly got out of my car. I didn’t know he was here. I rushed inside the small and homey feeling cafe. When I stepped into the building, the smell of apple pie and coffee filled my nose. I liked the smell of this place. I looked around, seeing Chris on his phone next to the window like he said he was. I walked over to him.
“I’m sorry you were waiting so long. I wish you told me you were already here,” I mumbled and sat down in the open seat across from him. He looked at me, placing his phone in his pocket. There were papers and two books scattered on the table, as well as a pastry, what looked to be a croissant. A chocolate croissant with a few bites taken out of it. I loved chocolate croissants.. 
“Hey, don’t worry about it. I didn’t know you were here either. We probably should have texted each other, huh?” He rubbed the back of his neck, looking a little embarrassed. 
“Yeah, that would have been a good idea,” I giggled. “So, let's see what you’re working on.” I placed my book down, next to all the papers and books along the table. 
“Before we start, are you hungry? I’ll pay for it, just order what you want.” Chris smiled at me from across the table. I smiled back.
“No, no, I’ll pay for my food. Thank you though.” He rolled his eyes.
“Oh, come on. It’s the least I can do for making you come all the way here just to help me study.” I shook my head. 
“Fine, but only this once.” I gave him a stern face. I meant it. I didn’t want him paying for me. I’d probably feel bad later for making him pay for me today. 
Chris asked me what I wanted. 
“Hm, I think I’ll get a chocolate croissant as well. Yours looks really good. Also a hot coffee, add sugar and creamer.” He looked at me, taking in the things I asked for. He nodded his head standing up.
“Anything else?” He asked.
“No, thank you.”
“I’ll be back in a sec.” He turned around, walking to the counter to order my food and coffee. I looked at the papers on the table, trying to read the handwriting on each one. Chris didn’t have very readable handwriting…
After a few minutes of trying to figure out what the papers said, Chris came back. He placed my food and coffee down in front of me as well as a water bottle. 
“One croissant, hot coffee, and water for the pretty lady,” He said before sitting back down in his chair. My face started to get warm. 
“Thanks,” I mumbled and looked away towards the window. 
“So, did you find out what all this shit means,” Chris grabbed a paper from the small stack in front of me. 
“To be honest, I couldn’t read your notes. But I could read the typed questions.” He laughed a little. 
“Yeah, my handwriting was never the best.”
“As long as you can read it, right?”
“Right,” he chuckled. He placed the paper in front of me and started pointing out the things he was struggling with. Time to get to work, I internally sighed. 
– 
Helping Chris wasn’t hard at all. He was a fast learner and quick to keep the information in his head. 
Chris groaned and stretched his arms over his head. He leaned back slightly before speaking. “Man, I’m tired. I think we need a break. We’ve been doing this for an hour and a half and I think I got the concept down.”
“How about you do these last three problems,” I scribbled two easy equations and one hard one before sliding the paper in his direction. “Then, we can take a break.”
Chris did the first two problems easily. The last one took him longer than the others but he got the right answer in the end. 
“You’re catching on really fast, Sturniolo.” He smiled at me, a big grin on his face.
“Thank you, Miss L/n.” I felt my cheeks turn pink from that. “You know, it seems like everytime I say something, your face turns pink.”
I felt my face get even pinker, probably red at this point.
“No it doesn’t,” I denied. I knew it did. But would I agree with him on that? No.
“Yes, I think it does. I see it all the time when I talk to you.”
I rolled my eyes.
Chris’s pov
My stomach hurts. It felt like someone was twisting my guts around. She made me so nervous and honestly, I don’t think she notices how she makes me feel. Everything she says makes my heart melt. When she calls me by my name, or even the nicknames she's given me. It makes me want to go feral. If I didn’t have any self control, and wasn’t raised right, then I probably would have. She makes me crazy and I hate it. But God, I love it so much. The feelings she makes me experience are unreal. So unreal to the point that I have to pinch myself sometimes to make sure it isn’t all a dream. 
“When do you think we should wrap this up? Don’t get me wrong, I really enjoyed being here with you today, but don’t you have better things to do?” She looked at me with a dazed face. She looked so pretty.
I wish I could tell her. Just tell her everything. 
“Yeah, you’re probably right about cleaning up. I’m not busy for the rest of the day, but it is getting late. You probably have some things to do, too.”
She looked out the window. “Actually, there is something I need to do.”
My face dropped. I didn’t want her to go yet. Not that I’d admit that to her.
“Well, thank you for the help, Y/n. I really appreciate it.” She noticed the look on my face. 
“Hey, since you’re not busy, why don’t you come with me? I can drop you off at home after if you’d like,” she offered. My face lit up again. 
“Really? Ah, that would be awesome,” I started to pack up my things, standing from my chair after her. 
As we walked towards the door, I asked her, “Where is it you need to go?” 
“First we’ll go to my car so u can put your things in it, then I need to go get a few books I’ve been dying to read. Luckily, the library is just across the street.” She almost skipped along the sidewalk to her car. 
“That sounds perfect.”
We made it to her car. She unlocked the door for me and I placed my bag in the passenger seat. She ended up giving me her old calculus book so my bag was pretty much bursting at this point. 
After we had finished up there, we started walking to the library. There was something soothing about being around her. Even if we didn’t talk, just her presence made me feel tingly inside. 
We made it to the very large building, walking through the automatic doors in the front. I pretty much followed her like a lost puppy.
We had come to a stop in front of the romance section. She dragged her fingers along the spines of some of the books along the shelves. She grabbed one, a thick book with torn edges and yellowed pages. 
“You really like the thickest books out there, don’t you,” I snickered behind her. 
She turned around and looked at me, a smug smile on her face. 
“Yes, maybe you should try reading one? You might learn something from these.” She giggled. I placed my hand on my heart, letting out a fake, pained sigh. She giggled again. “I’m only joking, Chris.”
She faced the shelves again, browsing a little before grabbing two more books. After that, we walked around some more. We went to the educational section, fiction, non-fiction, mystery, you name it. She seemed to have grabbed at least one book from every section. 
We found ourselves in front of the poetry section. 
“Do you need some help with those,” I questioned. She had a stack of at least 8 books in her hands, most of them thick and probably heavy.
“Please,” she sighed, handing me 4 of the 8. After, she looked around the poetry area when she noticed a book on the top shelf. She tried to reach up, failing to grab the thing that caught her eye.
I noticed her struggle and went behind her, reaching up and grabbing the book she had been reaching for. She turned around, looking up at me with a pink face.
“Your face is pink again,” I whispered. We were very close. So close that I almost felt her breath on my face. God, I want to kiss her so bad right now. This was the perfect chance, but I couldn’t. I have a girlfriend. 
“Is it?” She whispered back. I felt my stomach start to flip, once again. It seems to do that a lot these days.
“Very,” I replied. Time seemed to move slowly, not that I minded. 
She stayed looking at me. 
If you keep looking at me like that I might go insane, I thought. Her phone began to ring.  I pulled myself from her eyes, stepping back from her and handing her the big, brown poetry book. She took it, also grabbing her phone from her back pocket. She turned it off, picking her phone back up in the safety of her jeans. 
“Who was that?” 
“My mom,” she replied. “We should probably get going now.” She walked past me, speedily walking to the front of the library to check out the books. I hope I didn’t freak her out or anything. I really hope I didn’t.
Y/n’s pov
Mom texted me a few times after I declined her call. She had asked where I was and when I was going to be home. I shut off my phone, placing it in my lap. The stack of books in the backseat of my car were almost to the top of the seat. Chris had helped me carry them to my car. 
Now, I was driving him home. He sat awkwardly in the passenger seat. I noticed he had fiddled his thumbs a few times. Something people do when they’re nervous.
“You okay?” I questioned him. I kept my gaze on the road ahead of me.
“Yeah, I’m fine.'' I glanced at him briefly. 
“Okay.. If I did something to upset you, you’d tell me right?” 
“You didn’t do anything, Y/n. I guess I’m just upset our little adventure is coming to an end.”
I giggled at his statement.
“Come on, silly. Don’t be upset over spilled milk. We can hang out another day if you want. I just need to get home to my mother. I need to make sure she’s doing alright. I hope you understand.”
He nodded his head knowingly towards me. We ended up not talking the rest of the ride to his house. The music playing from my speakers was barely noticeable, but it left a good atmosphere between us. 
Chris had told me every turn to take until it was the final one into his driveway. Chris had a nice, big house. One that his parents must have worked very hard for.
“Thank you for today, Y/n. I had fun.” He looked at me before grabbing his bag off the passenger floor. 
“Me too, Chris. Me too.”
He opened the door and before shutting it, he said, “Text me when you get home so I know you made it safe. And be careful, it’s late.”
It was now 9. We spent the whole evening together. A few hours at the cafe and library and about an hour drive to his house. 
“I will, have a good night, Chris.”
He smiled at me and shut the door. I waited for him to get to his front door before beginning to pull out of his driveway. Before I could though, I noticed him wave goodbye to me. I waved back, then headed home for the night.
When I got home, mom wasn’t there. She was probably at the bar again. I sighed and went to my room. I grabbed some clothes and went to my bathroom, getting ready for my shower. I picked up my phone off my bedside table and opened Chris’s messages. I sent him a quick text.
I’m home and I made it safely. Not even 10 seconds later, I heard my phone ding. 
Thank God. I was starting to think you got kidnapped or something. I smiled at his message. I walked into the bathroom once again, running the shower on warm water. That would have sucked, wouldn't it?
100%. Then who would I talk to in 3rd hour? Me, myself, and I? I don’t think so.
I put my phone down on the counter by my sink. I stripped out of my clothes before picking it back up. 
If I were you I’d love to talk to myself lol. I waited for a text back for a few minutes, but not one came. I’m going to take a shower. I’ll text you when I’m out.
I shut off my phone and stepped into the warm water. I needed this shower so bad. Today was very, very long. 
When I finished showering, I put on my clothes and grabbed my phone. I went to my bed, getting under the covers and shutting off my light. I checked my messages. He still hadn’t responded. 
It’s nothing, Y/n. Don’t get attached. Don’t wait for his messages. And definitely don’t be upset when he doesn’t text back. 
I wanted to send him another text message, but I didn’t want to seem desperate. I ended up sending him another one anyway. A simple, Goodnight, Chris. Don’t let the bed bugs bite. I internally cringed. Why did I send that?
I shut off my phone and flipped over onto my side. It was time to get some rest. I had work tomorrow and it was already 10. I shut my eyes but when I did, the memory of Chris leaning over me at the library replayed in my head. I thought about what could have happened if my mom hadn’t called me at that moment. What that would have led to. I ended up falling asleep thinking about that. 
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Tormented Tales (Husk x Reader Coffee Shop AU)
Summary:
Coffee shop AU with Husk and a twist!
Notes:
Word count: 2283 Requested by: Melted_Halo on AO3 Ty for the request! I hope you don’t mind my twist on this chapter! Im assuming (like Angel Dust) that Husk had a different name before he sold his soul? Or adopted the nickname Husk later in life/death. So I literally looked up popular names from his time period to make him a name lol.
The bells chimed as you opened the door and walked into your regular coffee shop. Your town wasn’t necessarily big, but it wasn’t small either. It was quaint. If you go to places regularly enough you’d know everyone there, and boy did you frequent this coffee shop a lot. Your best friend actually worked there. “Hey Lily!” You smiled at her as you approached the counter “I’ll take my usual”
Lily greeted you back and nodded before punching your order into the system and waving you off. One of the many perks of having a friend who was in charge of the towns coffee shop, you never really had to pay for your drinks.
After you sat down at your regular spot you noticed someone knew in the shop behind the counter making drinks, being trained by Lily. ‘Who’s this cutie?’ You thought to yourself as you couldn’t help but notice his attractive features. The stranger was around your age, probably early to mid twenties. His face a bit pale, with bushy eyebrows and unkept wild black hair to match.
Distracted by the man, you didn’t even notice when Lily came to give you your drink. “Hello, earth to Y/N”
“Sorry Lily I was uh…distracted” Lily smirked at you, noticing where you were looking before she interrupted. “Who’s the new guy?”
“Oh you mean Charles? I just hired him a few days ago, todays his first official day behind the bar. Teaching him how to run everything”
You hummed, acknownledging her explanation as you sipped your drink.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As days turned to weeks you couldn’t help but frequent the coffee shop a bit more and more to admire the new cute barista at work.
Today Lily wasn’t here, something about a wedding she had to go to out of state. When you went into the shop today you immediately noticed, to your surprise, that Charles was at the counter and seemed to be working all by himself. ‘I guess it is pretty slow at this time’ you shrugged as you approached the counter.
“Hi” you greeted sweetly.
Charles looked up at you with a stoic face “Hey, um, Y/N right?”
You looked at him a bit surprised that he knew your name. “That would be me” you said awkwardly “How did you-“ you were going to ask how he knew your name before he cut you off.
“I see you in here everyday, I’m always making the drink you order…couldn’t help but notice you.” He blushed a bit, “anyway you want your regular?”
“Yes please” you nodded in confirmation, excited that he knew your name and your regular order.
“Alright that will be $5.23” he deadpanned as he reached his hand up towards you for payment.
“Uhhhh” you hesitated before frantically looking through your bag to find any form of payment.
He chuckled softly at you “I’m just fucking with ya doll, go sit down I’ll bring it to you in a sec” he winked.
You blushed at his words before nodding appreciatively and going to your usual spot. You always loved to watch him make drinks, especially when it was yours. It also helped that he looked rather handsome in the uniform, who knew a simple white button down long sleeve could look so appealing on someone?
In no time he walked up to your table with your drink in hand. “Here you go Y/N”
“Thanks” you replied as he turned away to go back behind the bar “Wait a sec!” You said quickly making him pause before he could get too far.
“Something wrong with your drink?” He asked nervously
“No no, I just wanted to know if you’d sit with me, maybe we could chat for a bit”
He looked around the empty shop and shrugged “Don’t see why not” he smiled.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You ended up staying to chat with him for his whole shift. Occasionally you two would get interrupted by a customer, but he would quickly take care of their order then come back and pick up the conversation as if he never left. You two talked about seemingly everything. Your age, his troublesome family, how he lived a casino.
“You know I even do a little bit of magic” there was a sparkle in his eye as he revealed this new fun fact to you.
“Oh this I need to see to believe” you teased. He laughed at you but complied, pulling out of deck of cards he just so happened to have on hand. “You always keep those on you?”
“All true magicians do” He quickly and skillfully shuffled the cards and had you choose a card and memorize it. Next thing you know the card you thought was shuffled back into the deck was getting pulled out from behind your ear.
“Wow!” You exclaimed “You’re actually really good at that! Show me another!” Husk chuckled and was about to protest but his coworker came up to him.
“Hey Husker I’m here for my shift so you’re good to go now”
“Thanks,” he said a bit irritated and dismissive
“Husker?” You questioned.
“Dumb nickname,” he replied rolling his eyes before turning back to you “anyways want to get out of here?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The two of you left the coffee shop and wondered around town still chatting about whatever came to your minds, until you figured it was getting late. “Well I think I should probably head home now, it was lovely spending time with you today”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you home?”
“No that’s alright”
“I insist Y/N, its not always safe around here you know that,” He wasn’t wrong, there’s no denying that there was a creeping sense of danger growing in the town recently due to some girls going missing, and you didn’t really want to say bye yet, so you accepted his offer.
As you walked home he started asking you more and more questions “So what’s your dream”
You laughed at him “My dream?”
“Yeah you know, your goal in life”
You hummed thinking to yourself for a moment “Its a bit silly but I always wanted to open a little bookshop cafe.”
“I don’t think that’s silly at all, why don’t you?” He questions. Valid since your best friend ran a shop, who’s to say you couldn’t.
You explained to him that you had responsibilities to your family and it just never seemed like the right time to start something that time consuming, but that you still wish to one day.
He accepted that answer “Well I know you’ll do it eventually, what are you gonna call it?”
“Tormented Tales and Tempting Treats” you said confidently
He laughed at the oddness of the name, but it made perfect sense coming from you and he liked it. “Not bad”
Eventually you made it to your apartment and were a bit disappointed to be separating from him, you throughly enjoyed his company. “Well this is me” you said hesitantly, “thank you for walking me home.”
“Of course, no problem Y/N” you made your way to the doorstep of your apartment building, “see you tomorrow?” He asked.
“See you tomorrow” you confirmed sweetly making your way inside, waving one last goodbye to him.
It wasn’t until later that you noticed writing on the coffee cup from just one of your many refills. ‘Let’s do this again soon’ was written in his sloppy yet beautiful hand writing. You blushed and couldn’t bare throw away the cup anymore. ‘That sneaky magician’ you thought to yourself.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ever since that day the two of you had a shared friendship that everyone else assumed to be a relationship. You couldn’t really say they were wrong, the two of you did have pet names for each other, shamelessly flirt, and overall acted liked a couple. But then again the two of you also never really confirmed anything.
You found that you no longer had to go up to the counter to order drinks anymore. Every time you went into the shop there he would be, at your usual table waiting for you. Reading a book in one hand and the other next to his own drink on the table, yours sat across from him prepped and ready for you, just as you like it. He’d time it so his breaks were when you came in, so he could sit down and spend time with you, even if it was busy.
Everything was going exceptionally well. You were happy, he was happy.
Until that one unfortunate evening.
Maybe fight is too harsh of a term, but you were frustrated with him. The two of you were supposed to meet at the local book store after he got off work but he never showed up. It was well pass dark now and the shop had closed, you were pissed to say the least. He had been hiding a lot of things from you, things about his family that he claimed were dangerous and that he didn’t want to get you involved in.
You were mad, and since he was supposed to come from work you were holding out hope that maybe he had to stay and work later. With a little bit of hope you began making your way across town to the coffee shop where you hoped he’d be waiting. But unfortunately you never made it to the shop. With everything else occupying your mind you had forgotten about all the scary things happening around town recently, and with your guard down it was too late before you felt a sharp and sudden pain on your head, then everything went black, then you woke up in an unfamiliar red hellish place in an unfamiliar body. You were dead. You were in hell.
It was well into the next day before he had found out what happened to you. He went to your shared apartment with Lily holding flowers, hoping he could make up for standing you up. His family kept him from you that night and he had no way of contacting you. As soon as he arrived outside your building he knew something was wrong. Police cars were swarmed all throughout the street and police officers around your building. He cursed to himself and ran up to your apartment looking for you, only to find Lily, crying, speaking to the police. With the sudden noise of his arrival Lily looked up and recognized the panic on his face and shook her head continuing to sob.
The flowers from his hands fell. He knew what had happen. You were gone.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(Flash forward to Husk living at the Hotel in Hell)
Husk lost track of how long it had been since he wound up down in hell. And he lost hope of finding you even longer before that. There’s no way that a sweet thing like you would’ve ended up down here with him.
Well, that was what he’d thought until he overheard a conversation between Charlie and Vaggie one day. “Oh Vaggie you just need to see this bookstore! It so cute! I really think you’d love it, it was called Tormented Treats? No, that not right Tormented something and something treats…” Charlie ranted but Husk was already alarmed.
“Tormented Tales and Tempted Treats?!” He asked suddenly and loudly, interrupting their previous private conversation.
“Yes! Oh that’s it! Have you been there before Husk? Wasn’t it-“ before Charlie could finish her sentence Husk ran out from behind the bar and out the door.
“IM TAKING MY BREAK GOTTA GO BYE”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
By the time Husk had fully processed his actions he realized he didn’t really have a plan….is it just a coincidence that there’s a shop down in hell with the exact name you envisioned? What if you weren’t really there? What if you were there? He was far too old for you by now. What would you think of his new appearance? How would you even recognize him?
This and many other insecurities started racing through Husk’s mind. But it didn’t matter now because he was standing in the shop, infront of the check out counter, being greeted by a beautiful demon who he hoped to satan was you.
“Hello? Earth to kitty. What can I get for you”
“Um,” Husk hesitated “Is Y/N here?” He asked softly, afraid of being told no.
“That depends who’s asking?” The woman in front of him stood up straighter and was visabilly on guard now.
“Charles,” Husk breathed “Charles Husker”
Her eyes widened “No fucking way. Charles?!” She made her way out from behind the counter to get a better look at him before bringing him in for a tight embrace. “It’s really you?” She asked nuzzled deep in the fur on his neck.
“Yeah doll its me” he said softly, reciprocating the hug, bringing you close to him even tighter than before “I’m sorry it took me so long, I didn’t think you’d be down here”
You laughed at him before pulling away a little, “Its okay Its not like I did a great job of finding you either.”
“To be fair I do go by Husk now…” he trailed off sheepishly.
“Husk, you mean like the ex overlord Husk?!” You asked surprised
He smirked a bit at this before confirming.
“Oh my satan how did I not fucking put that together. WAIT AN OVERLORD?!”
“Ex-Overlord” he clarified.
“Yeah yeah whatever, get the fuck over here so we can catch up,” you pulled him into the back room of your shop, where your office was “I missed you so much”
“I missed you more doll, we have so much to make up for”
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