#a bitch is LONGING and YEARNING yet again

[discodummy]

I’m at the point where I’m considering getting like a tinder or hinge again. Or just resigning to a life of spinsterhood and getting some more cats or something idk

[rockingbytheseaside]

Hi! It's me again! I'm here hoping to inspire you or simply share some thoughts and ideas!

1. What if we knew the harbingers before they became harbingers. For example when piętro was still studying to become a court mage.(At least I think that he was a court mage), or when Capitano was training to become a soldier and we were a doctor or a nurse, we knew dottore when he was a kid and so on and so forth. They believe we are long dead but surprise bitch we are still kicking. I thought that maybe in Dottores and Pantalones part we were an adeptai or simply something that lives a lot longer than humans. And surprise bitch number two we were looking for them the entire time because you know we love them. The moment they see us they think they see a ghost or something that came back to hunt them for their mistakes.

2. And my second idea is much more wholesome. We are simply a kid that adopted them as our fathers/uncles. And they don't want to get rid of us because we remind them of well them when they were kids. Imagine one day they come to a meeting with a kid hiding under there Coat and when ask they are like the meme with Spencer from Icarly with the smoothie and the ostrich.

So yeah these are my brain dead ideas and if they are interesting or something you would like to read more of I would be happy to send more

But anyway remember to take care of yourself first!

(Wha- You said piętro! The keyboard said piętro!!! Only I am allowed to misspel Pierro's name as piętro 20 times a day, dlaczego masz polską klawiaturę?!!)

✧ I always kind of headcannoned Reader as a person capable of living many years - either because they are Khaenri'ahn, another species, or an Adeptus; it's not really up to me. Whatever intricate details people like to imagine are up to them. ✧ Imagine knowing a Harbinger centuries before they were a force to be reckoned with. Perhaps you and Pierro were apprentices to the higher sages in Khaenri'ah, spending countless times sharing secret vows before the Cataclysm separated you. Perhaps you were Capitano's first-ever formidable opponent, one who held immense respect for you as a warrior and admired your enigmatic capabilities, yearning for another battle with you. Perhaps, you knew the young boy Zandik way back in Sumeru and you are the only being left who remembers the ruby-red eyes staring at you with determined wonder. ✧ No matter the backstory or origins of the past, this Harbinger never forgot you, and despite the 500 years of separation, this person would now use all his power and intel to seek you out. Clinging to ancient memories of the past, he still yearns to see a glimpse of you. Even if it means to reach the Abyss and back, he is still seeking.

That, in my opinion, is the best trope for the Fatui fics. Even when I write about different scenarios.

✧ A wholesome Father/Uncle/Teacher Harbinger to smaller reader is just a recipe for comic chaos. You have this high and mighty Fatuus, who with a single gaze can deep his subordinates into silence, yet now this same man is running around the Zapolyarny Palace, trying to catch you because you refuse to do your homework. You will either exhaust him to death, or he will exhaust you from running away and causing shenanigans.

One way or another it ends with both of you dozing off an armchair later that evening. The Harbinger holding you in his arms, wrapped up in a comfy blanket, while he rest his weary head on his knuckles, the fireplace crackling nearby. <3 ✧ As always, lovely suggestions, my friend! I will tag you if I manifest them into fully-fledged fics. Thank you, and hope you're doing well

[darkenedurge]

𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐑𝐮𝐧𝐬 𝐇𝐨𝐭.

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CONTENT : Fem/Elf Tav | Subby Rolan, but then he gets a little more confident muahaha | Tail Play | Heated Make-Outs | Messy Confession | Fingering (F Receiving) | P in V Sex | Rip Lorroakan (fuck that bitch) | Creampiiieee 🥧 | Tiefling Tail Head-Canons (ofc)

A/N : i’ve been wanting to write rolan for so long idk why it took me forever but AGH here we are i <3 tieflings

.

Rolan's head is reeling. Thoughts, realisations, spinning within the cavern of his skull. Lorroakan, gone. And, he owes thanks yet again to his 'valiant' hero. To which, he raises his head – lips, parting to speak.

Yet, not even a breath escapes him – not before he's barrelling backward into a bookshelf, hands grasping at his robes, and lips upon his own. Her lips. The lips he'd dreamed of for so long, lips he'd yearned for – yet so painfully denied himself.

Her tongue isn't patient, as impatient as she, winding its way into his mouth with a soft noise of satisfaction. In turn, he whines, hands reaching to grapple at any part of her he could blindly reach – clawing at her hips, drawing her nearer.

She rolls her hips into his, arousal coiling within his abdomen, and he has to muster all that he has to break for air – instantaneous in his mourning at the loss of her lips, her taste.

"What are you.. doing..?" Is all he can manage, in a panted breath, a string of saliva still connecting them – his gaze, hazy with desire, as he peers at her through half-lidded eyes.

"Something I should've done a long time ago," She replies, blunt, simple. Her hand brushes a strand of hair back, away from his face, touch uncharacteristically gentle in comparison to what he'd just witnessed – "I really like you, Rolan."

He almost laughs. In fact, no, he does laugh – a small, quiet huff of amusement. "I think we've established that," He quips, snarky as ever, "But for what it's worth, I like you too. A lot."

A brief pause. His eyes dart from corner to corner. Flitting between bloodshed, books and..

Her companions are nowhere to be found. To that, he internally, mentally, breathes a loud, genuine sigh of relief. She notices, a coy smile playing at her lips, her fingers dipping beneath his robes – fingertips cold, against the harshness of his warmth, bumping over the ridges that decorated his skin. Rolan feels a shiver crawl up his spine, eyes fluttering to a momentary close, as a shaking, uneven breath ghosts past his lips.

“So, are we going to finish what we started?” Comes her voice, Gods her voice, once more – the words purred against his ear, her teeth grazing his skin. He’s unable to swallow the whimper that fights its way out, chest notably heaving, “My ears are s– ahh.. sensitive..”

She hums, hand seeking purchase in his underwear, but lingering just above the waistband – awaiting consent. “I assumed as much,” She murmurs, “Elven ears are only the same..”

“So, I’m your first tiefling?” He asks, voice dipping to a low, rasping hum, as he guides her hand to his cock – hips stuttering as her hand began teasing, languid strokes, thumb paying mind to the ridges that adorned his shaft – alongside bitterly teasing the tip with clear intent. He moans. Pitched, and unrestrained.

“First, and last.” Is her reply, brows knitted in concentration as she peers down at her own working hand, wrist expertly twisting, earning further, mewling whines from Rolan’s mouth.

Rolan’s own, fickle, fantasies paled in comparison to the reality that had now so graciously dawned upon him, his thighs tensing with every pump of her fist.

“So sensitive,” She muses, and his hands grapple for the bookshelf behind him, “I wonder if your tail is the same..”

“Don’t–!” Rolan gasps, but his fragile warning is cast upon deaf ears, her spare hand already pinching the tip of his tail between her thumb and forefinger. He yelps, spilling over her hand with trembling of his thighs.

“Oh,” Her tongue swipes over her fingers, before they sink into her mouth, tasting his seed – “Very sensitive.”

The after-shock of Rolan’s orgasm blurs his vision, whirls his head. So much so that he hardly, if at all, processes her movements – the disappearing of his tail, within the caverns of her mouth, slick with saliva. It’s not until her cheeks hollow, and a spasm of pleasure writhes through him, earning a waned whimper from the back of his throat. “Don’t– I can’t, I– too sss–sensitive..”

Rolan tugs, his tail pleading for exit – her jaw falls slack, brows arched in question. He has to catch his breath, and he does so; though, incredibly unsteadily. Meekly.

“I’m sorry,” His hands, without forewarning, toy with her armour – a silent begging for her to be rid of it, bloodshed and all, “I can’t cum again, not unless it’s inside of you.” She blinks, still and unprepared for the first time since the mere moments ago that their encounter started. Her senses, however, are swift in their return – and she peels off piece after piece, revealing every curve; every freckle, every shred of skin that Rolan could only have ever dreamed of touching, tasting.

Rolan’s robes are much less hassle, and to a silent God he offers his thanks for it. Stripped bare in front of one another, silence offers it’s blanket. It’s her, who moves first, fingertips dancing from his shoulders, right down to his knuckles. He notices the faintest of smiles playing at her lips, adoring in its nature. With a swallowed breath, Rolan outlines her waist, her hips, thighs, ass, with his hands.

“You’re warm,” She states, softly. He hums, and with a sharp pull on his behalf – their bodies are pressed flush. Wordlessly, she’s lead backward – thighs hitting the edge of something hard, sharp, earning an expel of air from her mouth. A desk. Lorroakan’s desk.

With a grunt of effort, she was splayed before him – upon the wood of the desk, his tail wound around her leg, spreading her open with gentle encouragement. His fingers press to her lips, and she understands – tongue swirling, wetting them. With a ‘pop!’, the digits are released – sinking impatiently into her pleading, begging cunt. Rolan gasps, her cunt hot, and tight around his fingers, as they slid, in, out, in, out. He curls them, and her head is thrown back. Thumb, paying mind to her neglected bud, circling it.

“So wet,” He murmurs, not toward her in particular – more so, a thought that had accidentally been uttered aloud. Regardless, he doesn’t regret it. No, her reply only makes him wish he’d said more.

“Because it’s you, Rolan.” She whines.

Gods, he couldn’t wait anymore. She groans, at the absence of his fingers, and he shushes her. “So greedy,” He mewls, “Even when you’re about to get exactly what you want.”

The inside of her greets his cock far differently in comparison to that of his fingers. She clenches, near immediately, and blissfully so. His hips are steady at first, cautious. Until they’re not, her hands finding his in an act of desperation, as his hips piston at an impossible pace – her hips rolling in tandem with his harsh, needy thrusts. Lewd sounds encapsulate the room, skin against skin, raw noises ripped equally from both of their throats. It’s heaven, if such a place truly exists.

Delirious, Rolan barely registers, notices, the premature arrival of his orgasm crawling up his spine, strumming his nerves. A guttural, cracked moan is yanked from his mouth, and he spills inside of her – eyes blown wide. “I’m sorry,” His nose, buries in the crook of her neck, “M’sorry.”

He feels the shaking of her head, light and affectionate, against him. “It’s alright,” A kiss, tender as its pressed to his hair, “I wanted you to.. I’m yours now.”

“Mine.” The word, singular, is spoken through a hidden smile.

[onyourowndaisymae]

don't mind me... just thinking about the demon brothers slowly dropping the rest of their roster for you as they fall head over heels...

lucifer // mammon // levi // satan // asmo // beel // belphie (you are here) -- others coming soon, NSFW warning below, gn!reader

belphegor, who looks at you with such sharp eyes as you speak to him through the attic door. his smile sharpens when you look away, only to be kind and forgiving when you meet his eyes. you're his ticket to freedom. he'll play nice with you as you schmooze with his siblings. and, when the time is right, he'll make sure you have a one way ticket to the celestial realm.

belphegor, who doesn't think this is fair at all. he doesn't understand why he keeps getting the short end of the stick. first his sister was taken from him, then his freedom, and now you? no. he's sick of this. he's sick of losing things. the exchange program is ending sooner than he can handle. now that he likes you, he likes you, and he doesn't want to share. he'll plop his head into your lap and curl around you like a kitten after a long day, all sweet and innocent, tuning out the way mammon bitches at him for the (admittedly sneaky) move. you carefully pet his hair and his face flushes-- he'll play it off by pretending to be asleep.

belphegor, who uses the occasional hookup to keep himself satiated. he watches the pretty demon bounce on his cock, their keens covering the little noises of pleasure he makes. if he closes his eyes, he can pretend it's you. he can pretend the whines falling from their lips are yours, the grinding of their hips against his your desperation for him instead. the fantasies are easier when he doesn't have to do the work. he doesn't have to forget the feeling of his own hand on his cock to imagine it's yours, to watch explicit videos and pretend he doesn't notice the performers don't quite look like you.

belphegor, who doesn't mind ignoring others if it meant he'd get a chance with you. he's at another one of diavolo's stupid, boring parties, eying you from across the room while he's caught in conversation with someone interested in him. he will not-so-politely brush women and men alike off with a blank stare, peeking at you to make sure you saw him turn down other options. if that doesn't get the point across, he'll stalk across the floor to you, draping his sleepy frame across your shoulders or around your waist, mumbling something about how he'd rather spend the evening with you instead.

belphegor, who will give you every ounce of his energy when he finally has you. it's the middle of the night, but he's wide awake, breath warm on your shoulder as he whispers filthy promises against your skin. you've finally given him a chance to show you what he's been wanting to do since he first laid eyes on you. his touch was slow-- not lethargic, but deliberate-- as he ran his hand along the swell of your bare ass, swatting it a little just to grin when you squirm. his lips meet the nape of your neck, then his fangs, then his lips again as an apology. he's slow to enter you. and he's slow to begin moving once he's sheathed inside you. belphie wants to savor the way you clench around his cock, the whine that's muffled against the pillows as he pulls back, an obscene slick noise following the drag of his hips as he pushes back in. nice, slow, steady thrusts. in and out. his cheeks are flushed, and he bites his bottom lip hold back the little whimpers that threaten to expose how long he's yearned for you, yearned for the way your ass bounces against him each time his hips jerk forward. he's relieved when you finally reach your climax-- he doesn't have to act like he wasn't teetering over the edge since he slipped inside. you start to roll over but he catches your hips. not yet. he's not done with you. he won't be for awhile. he's here to make up for lost time-- his brothers may have had you first, but you're his now. he'll fuck you over and over until you remember that.

taglist for this series: @the-demonus-aunt // @scienceisfornerds // @hostilemakeover // @snow-fall1

[sordidmusings]

Tender Love and Care - Hair Care (Buggy x Reader)

Art by Capitanpoops (link keeps expiring QnQ)

A/N: Ah yes, another 'taking care of Buggy's head' fic to take up space on the internet. Just gotta indulge in giving this man some tlc. Did I write four thousand words of simping for the cringefail pirate clown's hair? Yes. And I'd do it again >:p

Word Count: ~4 k

Warnings: afab!reader (no pronouns), Lots of Feelings, yearning, possibly angst?, probably hurt/comfort?, waxing very poetic, Buggy being a prickly bitch who doesn't know how to receive affection, Buggy also being a delusional bitch who immediately latches on to that affection

amab!Version

Next ->

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“Touch the makeup and I’ll bite your fingers off!”

“I’m quaking.”

“...I’ll spit in your face.” His eyes narrowed while you blanched. “I’ve got damn good aim too so you better watch those big ol’ eyes.” Almost a compliment? Progress.

“To save us both from catastrophe, I’ll let you keep your grease-face,” you promised. After a few more seconds of giving you the stink eye (really, you should be taking notes because his form is exemplary), Buggy finally settled back into your hold. His stubble scratched lightly at your palms and you allowed your thumbs a scant few passes from his cheek bones to the back of his jaw. That was easy enough to play off as mindless movements while you examined him for the coming wash. Hopefully.  You were at least putting in the effort to keep the affection in your chest from blooming into a wide smile on your face, lest he begin spitting like a wet cat again.

After placing him down on your clothes chest, you began gathering together the things you’d need to clean him up. You had already prepared a large basin of steaming water before you had grabbed Buggy from Zoro for your night shift with him. If he had truly protested against you then you’d just have extra water to pamper yourself with for your nightly routine. What a loss. While you flitted around grabbing a cup, a pile of towels, and care products, Buggy took to commenting about whatever his eyes fell on around your room. Your half-assed replies did nothing to discourage his gentle roast of your safe space. He only shut up when you picked him back up and brought him over to the basin.

You were taken by surprise when you took off his bandana.  You had guessed that his hair was thick from the pieces that framed his face, but you hadn’t expected long locks to be wrapped up in there. They slipped and fell down like silk despite being in clear need of a wash, and you started to become a bit excited to see how they would come to shine under your care.

“What’s wrong with you? Never seen hair before?” There was a bit more bite to him all of a sudden and it hit you that he may be self-conscious from your staring.

“Never seen yours before, duh,” you teased. “You should wear your hair out as a power move against all the scrangly ass men in these waters.”

Buggy took a blank-faced moment to process your words. Probably weighing your sincerity against the backlog of insults he’s heard in his life. Unfortunately, one joking compliment never stood a chance.

“Whatever, just do your job.” His bitter tone made you keep your mouth shut and drop the topic. For now.

Seeing how he had a lot more hair than anticipated, you got up again to grab yet another towel so that you could use it as a cushion. Finally settled, you grabbed Buggy in one hand, the cup in the other, and got to work. You had laid a small board across the basin so you could rest Buggy on it instead of having to hold him up the whole time. You may have gotten strong in this life, but you were not masochistic enough to try holding him up throughout this process. You made sure to be extra gentle when you put him to rest on the back of his head, mindful that the hard plank wasn’t the most comfortable.

Wetting his hairline was taking longer than you thought. The soft noises from the pouring water hitting his scalp and trickling through his hair into the basin below felt loud in the stillness of the room. Everything had a languid air like you could breathe freely without thought or time to measure the passing of each exhale. Wanting to check in, you looked down from your task and into Buggy’s face. Despite all his past showboating, Buggy was having difficulty keeping his gaze anywhere near your face.  You decided to take pity on him in his discomfort but not too much. “So how’d you get your damn good aim?”

Silence.

You’re beginning to think that him looking at you like you’re stupid is his comfort zone.

“You know, that ‘damn good aim’ that makes my ‘big ol’ eyes’ easy targets?” you supplied.  At first, you thought he would roll his eyes and make more digs at you, but he finally caught you off guard.

“It’s a trade secret,” he said with a growing smile and a glint in his eyes. His face grew even more pleased when you smiled mischievously back at him.

“Clown trade?”

He hummed out an affirmative. You saturated the last of his hair at the front and sides and now needed to dunk the rest in the basin. The sheer amount of long blue locks that this pretty, pretty man had may cause it to overflow, but you supposed that’s just a workplace hazard when becoming a glamor clown’s hairdresser. You paused in lowering him to look around quite dramatically (squinty eyes, pursed lips, and all) before leaning slightly closer to stage whisper, “You can tell me; I ain’t no snitch.”

You barely caught the laugh that he choked short in order to keep up his serious facade. He let his eyes wander the room to double check your surveying and pretended to be in thought. He let out a heaving sigh and said, “Okay, okay, but you have to lean in close. Can’t have this getting out.”

Ever obliging, you turned your head and leaned until you felt his warm breath on your skin and the roundness of his nose tickling to top of your ear. You were thankful he couldn’t see the little shiver down your spine or the goosebumps spreading down your neck. He was thankful you couldn’t see him close his eyes to savor the scent of your perfume. All was still for a few breaths too long.

“The secret?” you prompted, thinking he was waiting for your urging or that he was just trying to make you squirm. You didn’t see his eyes flutter open while he forced thoughts other than your closeness back into that head of his. Okay, he really needed to do something to reel himself back in and get some control of the situation.  Easier said than done when he’s only a head.

You felt as much as you heard him take a deliberate inhale… only for a loud raspberry to be blown right next to your ear.

Nearly dropping him in shock, you quickly pulled your head back and held him at arm’s length like a misbehaved puppy. Through his canting cackles, Buggy met your wide eyes with a proud grin. It didn’t even need the help of his makeup to split his face. Damn, you could stare at that forever. He had just the prettiest eyes you think you’d ever seen. The way they shifted color under the low lights and sparkled with his smile had you feeling entranced. It had the same commanding presence and addicting warmth as flames with their own swirling colors and sparking embers. You thought your poetic idioms for him would always center around the sea, especially for his blue-green eyes, but here we are.

The corner of his smile started to twitch downward under your stare until wild and cheerful giggles burst from your lips. They were the kind to shake your shoulders and scrunch your cheeks up into your eyes and he’s now certain that he has fucked right up. Buggy felt alarms blaring in his mind as he took in your joy and was certain he would make an absolute fool of himself in any and all ways possible to keep getting hits of it. Between your settling laughter, you managed to say, “Don’t worry, I’ll bring that wisdom with me to my grave.”

Readjusting your grip, you moved forward and dunked the back of Buggy’s head fully into the water. He sighed out at the sensation, but he fully melted when one of your hands went to support the back of his skull and the other flowed through his tresses to make sure all of them were wet. You let yourself take your time, both to make sure you were thorough and to indulge yourself in the comfort of the moment. A tenderness spread through you when you saw that this was also indulging Buggy. His breath was slow and steady, and his eyes were resting closed to better focus on the sensations coming to him. You truly were a people pleaser at heart and seeing someone so bedraggled and affection-starved accept your care made your heart and head feel fuzzy.

You slowly leaned him more upright and used your other hand to wipe out some of the excess water. Buggy felt you shuffling around, and his eyes opened to see what you were up to. After you moved him to rest on the flat bottom of his neck on top of the softest towel that he’s felt in ages, he realized that you went through the trouble to try to make even that wooden board comfortable for his sake. He was starting to feel even more uncertain and out of his element.

Careful fingers carded through and spread out his hair behind him while an equally careful gaze watched over their work. After lathering your hands with a shampoo bar scented by vanilla and spices, you set to work giving him the scalp massage of a lifetime.

While focusing on doing the best job possible and maybe also the beautiful color of his hair was keeping you from thinking about anything else, Buggy had no such luxury. He had nothing to direct his nervous energy at - didn’t even have fingers to fidget with! - so he closed his eyes and tried to keep his face neutral. Everyone enjoys a good scalp massage or at least some kind of pampering so it wouldn’t have been weird for him to visibly enjoy it, but something watery and vulnerable was pressing at his throat under your tender care. His mind and body (well… head) were at odds. While his train of thought spun every which way only to be tethered back to the word ‘why’, his muscles melted until they were soft and pleasantly limp. Has his brow ever been so smooth? His jaw so loose? His lips so softly set? Oh God, you must have noticed the stubborn stiffness in his neck because your fingers abandoned his hair to firmly rub from the base of his skull to where he met the towel and that was truly his undoing.

With a rumbly hum, Buggy finally gave in to temptation and tied his mind to your movements. He let himself imagine affection there - imagine that this was special and just for him. You’ve never tended to anyone else like this. You offered because you simply had to know what his hair felt like. You just wanted to touch him. You wanted it much more than you ever wanted to touch anyone else. If he opened his eyes and looked up at yours, he would see them pouring with love, just like your hands were, and you would look sweetly down at him with your pretty eyes and pretty smile and say lovely things and you’d love him-

You’d love him.

Fuck.

You noticed Buggy suddenly flinch under your hands and you tensed up.

“Are you okay? Did I snag your hair?” You hadn’t felt anything tug but you supposed you could’ve missed it.

Buggy cleared his throat before stiffly responding, “No. Keep going.”

Something thick in his tone caught your attention and you looked to see his expression was tense instead of the blissed out one you had admired not too long ago. That won’t do. You went back to the tried and true pressure points on the scalp that you knew from experience eased anyone up. Checking his face again, you noticed it was more relaxed but still too guarded for your tastes. Deciding he must be getting antsy, you switched to working the shampoo down his hair after getting a touch more product on your hands. The time it took to get it properly sudsed and rinsed was calm, despite the fact that there was some undercurrent to the air that felt charged. Maybe it was just from seeing the talkative and bratty clown be so subdued. As you began spreading conditioner through his hair, you decided that it was time to engage him again.

“This bar is my favorite; nothing makes my hair softer,” you said. Already, his hair was relaxing to glide even more smoothly between your fingers. You weren’t ready to give the feeling up, so you spent the entire time that the conditioner was setting to run your fingers through his hair.

Buggy couldn’t do anything at the moment to judge your claim, but the smell alone made him understand why it was your favorite. It matched that of the shampoo bar, but the richer ingredients in the conditioner highlighted the comforting tones of the vanilla and the sensuality of warm spices and wood. He relished in it on every inhale, hoping to unravel and memorize its every undertone. Was that a touch of orchid in there? A little pink peppercorn? Maybe some incense and amber at the base? Buggy suddenly felt ridiculous. He was never one to give much thought to fancy perfumes, yet here he was trying to dissect your scent like a sommelier tasting a new wine. 

You made quick work of rinsing his hair this final time and gently pushing and squeezing any excess water out. You set Buggy back on a towel, this time one that was spread on the floor. It was the one that you had just been sitting on. Buggy was embarrassed that he noticed and enjoyed the fact that he could still feel your body heat on it.

“How many of those things do you have?” Buggy scoffed as you pulled yet another towel over to dry his hair. You bopped his forehead with a finger in warning against further sass.

“You can never have too many. It’s something that you use daily and they come in handy during emergencies,” you explained.

“Oh yeah like what?”

“Well, I was thinking of situations like having to soak up a spill or blood, but the state of your hair definitely qualifies.”

The outburst was immediate.

“I KNEW YOU WERE MAKING FUN OF ME YOU DAMN LIAR! HOW DA-”

Good thing you were prepared for this and stuffed some of yet another towel into his screaming mouth. He bit down on it harshly and glared at you with all his might. Snarls and grumbles still made their way through the cloth, letting you know just how displeased he was. You were a little shocked to find that despite being gagged and despite just being a head that his glare still actually intimidated you. The time spent with the crew treating him like a harmless little pest had helped you forget that, when push came to shove, he could back up his talk with violence.

The brief glimpse of fear in your eyes gave him a twinge of satisfaction but mostly felt a lot more hollow than he’d expected. Wasn’t this what he wanted? 

When you reached back out to continue drying his hair, you were more tentative than he had ever seen you and his mood dropped even further. Even with your caution, the way that you moved the towel over his hair and gently squeezed more water out of it was filled with care. The whole thing felt very foreign to him. Buggy usually rubbed his towel through his hair chaotically like the more forceful he was the sooner he could get done with the bothersome task. You were working over him like any undue force would be an insult. Like he was something precious. That watery feeling started pressing on him again.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you started quietly. “I just meant to poke fun, not make you actually feel insulted.” After a few more soft pats with the towel, you slowly removed his makeshift gag. He took a moment to wiggle around his jaw and get the dry feeling out of his mouth.

“Yeah, well good job, dumbass,” he bit. You winced at the hurt in his tone. “Just finish up.”

You took a moment to recenter yourself while you grabbed your comb and brush. This was not how you wanted this to go. One wrong comment had sent this whole interaction spiraling and it made you sad. Sensitivity like that was usually built up from years of feeling the same hurts over and over again, and you didn’t ever want to be someone to aggravate an already festering wound, especially not on someone who you genuinely enjoyed. Not on someone who you were increasingly craving affection from. This needed to be fixed. Steeling yourself for the resistance you were about to meet, you began combing the ends of his hair and spoke, “The blue color is so pretty.”

He ignored you. As expected.

“It was one of the first things I noticed about you.” He still wouldn’t even glance up at you. “Also how it brings out the color of your eyes.”

He snorted dismissively in a way that very clearly told you he wasn’t believing a word you said. Also expected. You’re just going to have to soldier on until this eventually worked… maybe worked… hopefully worked?

Just as in the rest of the process, you were slow and thorough when combing his hair. You murmured compliments to him about how soft it is; how thick and how beautiful. By the time that you had switched to using your brush, he was showing signs of being worn down by your flattery. His face was more relaxed and he let himself look around instead of trying to burn a hole through the floor. All you could focus on, though, was how downcast and tired his eyes looked.

“Alright, I’m all finished up,” you told him. “I’m going to put you in the hammock for a minute while I get ready for bed.”

After placing him in the middle of your bedding, you disappeared behind a dressing screen. The routine of bathing  yourself with a washcloth and bowl of soapy water eased you. Since you had taken so much time tending to Buggy, the last bowl of fresh water had become lukewarm. Despite this, the final wipe down had you feeling refreshed and ready to jump into bed. It was no soak in the tub, but still left you feeling much better after a long day of helping work around the ship.

You had set about your routine briskly so that you didn’t leave Buggy waiting too long. Little did you know, he didn’t mind the time of having nothing to do besides enjoy the soft blankets you curled up in every night. He was trying to soak it in before you inevitably put him back down on the floor. If the night had taught him anything, you’d at least put him on one of those fluffy towels instead of throwing him back in the bag like the others did.

You came over to him on the hammock and he admired how you looked, now clean and fresh in a modest slip. When you picked him back up, your face and body language were as placid as he had ever seen them and he was surprised at how content that made him feel. He readied himself to be moved away, left cold and forgotten, but he was astonished when you plopped yourself in your bedding instead with him still in your hands. The shock must have shown on his face because you giggled at him and gave him a bright smile. Even with the bumpy road that the night had been, your smile made him soft and content. He was realizing with more and more resignation that your smile and laugh would let you get away with anything when it came to him.

“So no floor? Trying to bribe me with favors?” His voice was mostly back to that sarcastic lilt you’ve come to adore.

Content that he was feeling better, you answered, “Nah, just using you so I can have a teddy bear. Haven’t had a good one in ages.”

Making good on that promise, you made sure that he was securely nestled into your neck and shoulder. You used both of your arms to cradle him there and both hands to continue your worship of his hair. It was just barely damp and the coolness felt nice on your hands, especially in contrast to the cozy heat emanating from his head. His long eyelashes tickled at your neck every time he blinked, just like the light scruff on his jaw teased at your chest. His big nose felt cozy rested on your clavicle, and you had to resist the urge to reach down and trail your fingers on it. A giddy and victorious feeling flushed through you when you felt him close his eyes a final time and sink into your embrace.

Buggy should have known that he was doomed from the start. He was having a hell of a time trying not to moan at your fingers scratching and massaging his scalp, both during the hair care and now, when he was held in your arms. He couldn’t stop his little movements to nestle into you and get just that much more of your warmth and touch. If he thought that he loved the smell of you before, he was absolutely intoxicated now that he knew what it was like when it floated over the two of you while wrapped in body-warmed sheets.

He wanted to ask you why you were doing all of this, but he didn’t want to know the answer. Not right now. Right now he was going to let himself go back into that place in his head where you lo- cared about him. A place where each night he would crawl into bed with you and, no matter how the day went, you would be there to empty his mind of anything but the two of you. You’d greet him with a kiss or a laugh or an embrace and you would shine with so much joy because he’s next to you again. He’d know what your love felt like, how your body felt under his hands, how your skin felt under his lips. All these daydreams swirling in his head started to make him sick with want, and he needed to know at least one of them. He couldn’t handle all of them staying forever in his mind.

The tiniest increase of pressure from his lips brought your attention to where they rested below your collarbone. The almost kiss was so heartbreakingly shaky and hesitant that you felt your eyes burn with the threat of tears. To reassure him, you dragged your cheek across his temple before turning to leave a deliberate kiss there. Buggy relished the contact, the satisfied sigh you let out afterward, and the gentle weight of your cheek as you snuggled back into him. Your reward came in the form of a grinning cheek pushing into you.

All his humor and posturing certainly caught your attention in the best way and even his explosive temper was something you couldn’t say turned you away. This gentleness, though, this uncertain and wounded place, had you bursting with affection and you were hoping to keep experiencing it. You’d meet it each time with steady affection until it turned into something he embodied with the same surety that he had in his beloved spotlight.

Both of you slipped more sweetly into dreams, curled up together as you were, and with more peace and ease than the years before had allowed. Neither of you would let the years to come be absent of this sweet treasure, either.

Next->

[ellilyre]

Yk I usually assume that Diomedes and Aegialia's marriage is strictly political and has no feelings involved and she's kind of a bitch, but wouldn't it be sm more angst if they did love each other.

I'm pretty sure they've known each other since childhood. Maybe Aegialeus is aware of that and keeps teasing them about it. They're still children, it's fun.

And then the Epigoni happens.

The war didn't last long, but it's consequences were brutal. When he comes back, Diomedes has been changed by war. But she can still see in him the gentle boy she fell in love with. She teaches him to be soft and gentle again.

They reign together. They fail to have a child yet, but they're young, they still have the time for that.

They love each other. He leaves for Troy but promise he'll come back to her and Argos.

Ten years later, Diomedes wounds Aphrodite and she hurts him back in the worst way possible.

Aegialia wakes up one morning with no love for him anymore. He has never wronged her, and his letters are as sweet as ever, and yet she finds herself yearning for another man's embrace.

As she watches him trying to get home (to their home) and getting pushed back by the guards, she has never felt more hurt. She is heartbroken and yet something keeps her from screaming and throwing herself at his arms (as she has dreamt of for the 10 last years).

He flees the city for good and finally she breaks down, as if until now her feelings were put on "pause". She cries, she screams his name, but it's too late, he left, she chased him from their home.

He will never understand why did she did that. She will never forgive herself for what she did to him.

[floshav]

i wish i were Heather Hills

part 3 to my rodrick fic ! read pt 1 here

this has been long awaited! Im sorry if my writings gotten a bit rusty :( i'll be more active i swear!!!!

summary: Y/n and Rodrick notice a drift in their relationship. Earlier, Heather swears to become a home wrecker to the two because she just cant stand Rodrick having anyone other than her.

warnings: heavy make-out, fantasising, allusions to future sexual intentions, bitch behaviour, yearning, sexual assault (slightly), crying

Rodrick and y/n havent talked for 4 days. Considering they were usually knee deep in each others business, this was definitely out of the normal.

Y/n sighs inaudibly as the muffled sound of her Chemistry teacher blabbering turned quieter as moments sprang. Yet, amidst the solemn peaceful sound of nothing she struggles to remember where it all went south.

Rodrick looked into y/n's eyes lovingly with something she'd never seen in him before, intertwining their hands together as he signalled for her to get up with him. She stood up reluctantly and took one last whiff of her cigarette before putting it out with the base of her foot. The sound of it going out satisfied her every time. She dragged her ashy boots along the pavement as they walked away from the half broken vending machine, her head in the nook of his shoulder, just the way she liked it.

Heather stood proudly with a smirk plastered along her face, one that no one could consider accusing of something heinous and she wore that with pride. A little something called pretty privilege she'd say. Something clicked in that blonde head of hers. She was going to make Y/n's life reigned over jealousy.

Rodrick grabbed Y/n's cheeks with delicate urgency as if he was almost primitive in his actions. He gave her one soft kiss before seeing that glint in her eyes that made him go crazy. Y/n let out a soft groan as he kissed her hard and long, so passionately she wanted to cry. No one's ever appreciated her the way Rodrick does. Their saliva mixed and fought for dominance while the sounds they produced were so obscene that it made her wet every time she thought about it. His pretty boy moans, his breathless expression, his half lidded eyes and long eyelashes that made her heart skip a beat more than she'd like to admit. Everything about the boy was perfect. No one could ever ruin this moment.

knock knock

Y/n's mirage of fantasies were quickly toppled over when a certain redhead blew her mind back to reality for the 3rd time this week. In the distance she saw Rodrick talking to Heather, funnily the 4th time this week. Her eyes were still puffy as she tried to digest the situation before her but her attention was quickly brought back.

"Hey, Hey! Look. At. Me. I told you to forget about him. He's no good for you y/n." said the messy haired redhead.

These were the words that often left Alex's mouth. Always about Rodrick not being good enough for her, not up to her class. What was he even trying to do?

"But its only been 4 days. Surely things couldn't have gone so wrong is 4 fucking days." Y/n said with anger threaded in her tone. She couldn't stand Alex, Rodrick, or more so Heather. She was somehow winning again. Just when y/n finally got a taste of what she wanted. She managed to ruin her life just like she always did.

"C'mon sweet'eart, its Rodrick we're talking about. Class act asshole."

she remembered the way Rodrick held her head in his chest, so lovingly, so gently like she was a piece of fine china. The way he cared for her when she abused herself. The way he looked into her eyes and called her pretty each time he stared a little too long.

"Rodrick's not like that. He's not an asshole. Not to me atleast" she said as she stared off into his direction again, a certain ache prominent in her heart.

"Please dont lie to yourself. Dont hurt yourself again."

"Why are you even talking to me Alex? You want to fuck me or something?" Y/n said plainly with not a hint of amusement in her features.

Alex's face got red, slightly hot and he felt like he had been caught. But he knew that was not the reason he'd been trying to distract her, though definitely an appealing one now that he's thought of it.

"W-what, No! I just wanted to help you out, a-and get to know you better, seeing you were crying and all." he scrambled

"Well that's very nice of you but let me put it plainly. I don't need help." she said through gritted teeth and red eyes.

Being a people pleaser all her life, she felt satisfied and a tad bit guilty at the way she handled the redhead, but oh well. That wasn't enough to knock Alex down especially after the very attractive bribe Heather gave him earlier that week.

"I'll invite you to all my parties."

"And...."

"Oh for goodness sake Alex- That should be enough to convince you as is!"

"Well... You're asking me to do quite a lot... And not to mention Rodrick's a pretty tough cookie to crumble..."

"Ugh. Fine! And a kiss. One. Kiss." Heather sighed as she rolled her eyes.

"Okay, ill do it." Alex said with glittered eyes.

Heather had presented a very... lucrative offer to Alex to try and break the couple apart, and somehow it was working.

Rodrick being the dumb loser he was, didnt think to ask y/n about the whole situation but could you really blame him?

"Hey Roddy, bout' that drum gig... how about 100 smackaroos per hour? Sound good?" Heather said with fake innocence through batted falsies and glossy lips she just touched up.

100 dollars. He couldn't give up 100 dollars an hour just like that. Also that stupid fucking nickname he hated so so much because he knew how much it pissed you off. He thought of all the things he could buy you, flowers, makeup, books, movie tickets, your favourite candy, the list went on with all the things that would make you happy. His mind was clouded with you, you, you and the way he'd make it up to you for this whole misunderstanding. The loving he'd show you after this was all over. He missed you so much.

"Yea, sure why not." Rodrick said reluctantly as he leaned further back into the brick wall he'd been perched up against. Each rough grain getting caught between his jackets fabric by the force.

"Okay! Perfect." Heather said while holding both of Rodrick's calloused hands in her own delicately manicured ones.

He quickly pulled away before realising that y/n saw the situation unravel for what felt like the hundredth time this week. Heather bounced away with a smile to her pretty face, hips swaying in her mini skirt practically with her ass hanging out.

Before he could explain, Alex blocked his field of view by giving y/n a big fat kiss.

"Woah what the fuck?" Y/n mumbled through his lips as she tried to pry Alex's heavy body off of her.

Rodrick thought back to when Heather mentioned she saw y/n give Alex a peck on the cheek. Rodrick didn't want to believe that she could be so dumb to do it right in-front of him but after seeing this how could he not feel a slight twinge of doubt pull at his heart. Like his pessimistic mindset, things you hope to be true usually aren't and he was pissed the fuck off.

Before he could think straight, he dragged his feet against the pavement, anger laced in his steps as he pushed Alex's scrawny body off of Y/n. Rodrick noticed how glassy her eyes were and wanted to hug her and tell her everything was okay. Nobody would touch her anymore. But Heathers words kept ringing in the back of his head. She doesn't like you anymore. She likes Alex but is afraid to tell you Roddy. So don't believe her bullshit excuses.

"Dude- the fuck is your problem!" Alex exclaimed while shoving Rodrick's chest. His shoes squeaking against the ground.

"The fuck are you doing kissing my girl?" Rodrick said more angrily than he'd like to come off.

"Just stop it! I don't need this to happen right now!" Y/n yelled as her cheeks got red. Rodrick cursed himself for thinking about how pretty she looked when she got like that. Y/n ran off before covering her head with her hoodie into the girls restroom.

"Looks like she doesn't need her supposed man to defend her huh?" Alex said with an annoying smug look.

"Just fuck off you cunt. Don't ever touch her again." Rodrick said before walking away defeated.

Y/n gripped the ledge of the sinks edge, finger pads bruising the surface before sobbing as quietly as she could. She hated all the unnecessary attention crying brought her at school and just wanted to shrivel up and die. Just as things couldn't get any worse, she heard the familiar tone of Heathers voice arise in the distance.

"No like he was sooo in on it. Im telling you girls he's still into me like- Oh." Heather stopped in her tracks as she saw y/n perched up in a position she had always wanted to see.

"Aw, what happened babe." Heather said with the thickest whiff of fake sincerity her voice could put out. Yet y/n wanted it to be real. She wanted Heather to actually feel bad. To apologise for being such a shit person and a home wrecker.

------------------------------------------

Finally i am here to feed you guys with part 3 lol.. im so sorry this took almost a year tf . And thank u to all those who motivated me to keep writing hahaha as cheesy and cringe as that is. Lmk if u guys want a Part 4 ! I also would greatly appreciate requests and prompts in my inbox <3

[princesssmars]

thinking of soft yearning at the lodge with sam. sfw.

you walk through the dark halls quietly, not wanting to wake anyone with your silly slippers hannah bought for you for christmas. which was in a few days but she was never the most patient. just for that her crackers will be spared.

it’s around two in the morning when your stomach decides to be a bitch and tell you to raid the washington lodges pantry for snacks.

after spending so much time in the lodge the environment rarely effects you, beating winds and banging trees drowned out by your gentle humming on the way to your task as you finally make it to the kitchen.

the tile is cold even through your slippers while rummage the pantry, passing through the snacks and food everyone bought for the stay while your stomach quietly rumbles. you settle on somebody’s trail mix as you close the wide pantry doors, but you nearly jump out of your skin when someone is standing right in front of you.

“jesus christ, samantha!”

she grimaced as she held her hands up, automatically trying to calm you down and apologize. “oh my gosh i’m sorry, i thought you heard or saw me behind you-“

“behind me? yknow sometimes i forget how sneaky you are because of those weird gymnastics you took a few years back.”

“yeah yeah, whatever.” she snorts and rolls her eyes as she lightly pushes past you to get to the pantry. you hop up on the island counter behind her, stuffing your mouth with the salty pretzels and peanuts from the bag while sam idly searches for…whatever.

she grips both of the doors with her hands as she rocks back on forth on her feet while browsing and you subtly let your eyes glide over her exposed arms. it’s not your fault she looks good in a tank top.

“ugh, josh forgot to get my veggie straws again.”

“want some of chris’ trail mix? he won’t kick my ass if both of us eat it. maybe i can wake ash up for a bite.”

she laughs before picking up a random box of crackers (not hannah’s, of course) and pushing away with a sigh as she closes the doors of the pantry yet again. she pops a cracker in her mouth and chews only for a few seconds before rolling her eyes and spitting it out in the nearby garbage can.

"ugh, these are as hard as rocks," she scowls, tossing the whole box into the garbage. "god, i would kill for a burger right now. why did i go vegan again?"

"beeecause you love animals and are going to become a veterinarian?"

"oh yeah. forgot about that." the chill of the kitchen air suddenly feels amplified when she pads over to you and nudges your legs apart to stand in front of you. she wordlessly opens her mouth and waits for you to drop a pretzel inside, your eyes fixated on her lips while she chews.

“now i kjow we’ve definitely been here too long, you’re starting to act like mike.”

“hm? wha’dya’mean?” she asks through stuffed cheeks. your giggle at her behavior makes her laugh in return and rest her head on your chest as her arms wrap around your waist. you pull her into a deeper hug by wrapping yours around her shoulders and rest your head on the top of hers.

you sit in silence for a few minutes, content to just share body heat in the dim light of the kitchen as the wind and snow howls outside. your kind can’t think of what happened the last time you were cuddled together on a night like this only a year ago.

chris had sneaked up some wine from the cellar and before you knew it you and sam were plastered in her bed giggling and playfully pushing each other. until suddenly you were staring at each other, breaths mixing as you both inched closer and closer-

“hey, did you hear me?”

her question kicks you out of the memory, slightly shaking your head to reorient yourself to look down at her looking up at you. little strand of blonde hair are sticking out and you gently guide them back over her head.

“no, sorry. was just thinking. what’s you say?”

“i was just…you mentioned earlier that you’d got accepted to both davis and washington state. wanted to know if you picked one yet.”

“hmm no, i haven’t. why, you wanna be dumb freshmen together?”

“maybe, yeah. wouldn’t be so bad, right?”

it’s quiet again. your mind is mulling it over but also hyper focused on her still between your legs and looking up at you like you’re all she cares about tonight. maybe it’s the cold affecting your brain or just pure dumb hope but you swear you see her lean in just an inch-

“woah! yikes, my bad, guys.”

god, of course chris is also looking for something to eat at this hour. he awkwardly laughs as the two of you pull away from each other and start heading back, the man grunting when you shove the bag of trail mix into his chest. sam makes a shimmy movement with her hand until your fingers are entwined, the girl nearly dragging you back upstairs.

when you get to the end of the hall you plant your feet when you notice she’s dragged you to her room instead of escorting you back to yours. your heart flutters when she tugs you with a smile into the room before softly shutting the door.

“sam cmon, ‘m too tired to have a girls talk night.”

“that’s not why your here! i just,” she looks down and her thumb rubs over the back of your hand. you really hope she won’t notice the goosebumps traveling up your arm, even though you can blame it on the temperature. “i really wanna be close to your tonight. please?”

she doesn’t even need to ask, the both of you settling in under the covers before you can even think to deny her. your legs tangle and her arm immediately comes up to pull you closer as you get comfy, the pounding of your heart drowned out by the droopiness of your eyes.

so as you fall asleep you don’t notice the flush on sam’s cheeks, or the slight grip she has on your top before she tells your sleeping form ‘goodnight’ and places a soft kiss on your cheek.

[frost-queen]

Quiet dreamers (Reader x Klaus Baudelaire)

Requested by anon Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @alex--awesome--22, @ellie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve , @queen-of-books , @glimmering-darling-dolly , @denkisclown , @wildieflower , @meyocoko , @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl , @m-rae23 , @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr , @swampything07, @melsunshine , @panhoeofmanyfandoms , @venomsvl , @the-uncoordinated-house-cat , @rosecentury , @imagines-by-her, @evilcr0ne , @vviolynn , @niktwazny303 , @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 , @markive-m,

Lunch time.

The cafeteria was quiet. Unlike any other cafeteria one could be accustomed to. Yet this was no ordinary cafeteria. It was Prufrock prep’s cafeteria. Where students were kept in check. Due to the seriousness of the school, there became an unwritten rule that lunch time was being held in silence. Any talking could draw the attention of teachers, would draw the attention to punishment. The silence had woven a way into the school’s spirit.

At one of the tables sat you. Picking at your food as it was never something tasty. Nothing that made you yearn for lunch time with treats. Common food that barely had any taste. You were alone sitting at the long table benches. Your fork going mindlessly around in your plate as your gaze was focused forwards. Barely any movement from your eyes as you were lost. Lost in your own thoughts. It was a habit you had picked up along the way. Since talking wasn’t much allowed. Or at least no one did loudly enough for the teachers.

Eyes barely tracking anything. Locked on the distance as you lived your life in your mind. When on one talked to you, you created the habit of taking comfort in you own company. At first it was very little, then it became more frequent. A bad habit Prufrock prep had enabled on you. It wasn’t that you had much friends. Not until the Baudelaire children arrived. You sort of enrolled into them as you were somewhat friends with Isadora and Duncan Quagmire. Through them you came in contact with the Baudelaire children. No longer so alone anymore.

So caught up with yourself, you didn’t hear the upcoming footsteps. The movement nearing, followed by whispering. The Quagmire’s and Baudelaire’s came sitting around you. – “Midday Y/n.” – Isadora said, seeing you not respond. Violet wanted to snap her finger in front of you as Klaus kept her hand down.  – “Allow me.” – he said, getting back up.

Coming around the table to where Duncan was sitting beside you. With a simple gesture he asked for Duncan to make some room. Duncan scooted over, making room for Klaus. Klaus came sitting backwards. Back against the table to get a clearer view of you. Klaus placed his hand on yours.

“Y/n.” – he said softly giving your hand a squeeze. His touch made you blink surprised, seeing your friends suddenly around you. – “How long have you been here?” – you asked, not sure how long they were here. Having lost track of time. Klaus sheepishly back at you.

“You were in your head again, Y/n.” – he replied tapping you on your forehead. – “Oh…” – was your first response, feeling a bit embarrassed. Looking shyly down. Klaus took your hand, placing it fully in his. – “It’s alright.” – he whispered to you, knowing a bit already how you were. He didn’t blame you. Prufrock was a place where you wanted to escape. Even when it was in your own head.

Where it was much saver and much more interesting. Klaus swept his legs over the bench, to sit straightforward. They started whispering, keeping their heads low. You kept a smile up, following for a little while. Till you started to think of other things. Slowly drifting away as their words became muffled mouth movements. Barely paying attention to what they were saying, but still engaging in the conversation with little head nods.

You blinked surprised when they suddenly got up. – “What... what’s going on? Where are we going?” – you asked, getting up as well. Taking your tray in your hand. – “Didn’t you hear anything I said?” – Duncan questioned, quirking his eyebrow up. – “Of…of course…” – you answered, not wanting to sound like you didn’t. You quirked up a silly smile to show him, you understood. Sunny looked up to you, shaking her little head. She knew you were lying. Your friends carried on as you simply followed them. Having no clue of the context of their leaving.

Setting the tray away, you dusted your hands off, jogging after them. Klaus waited for you by the door, coming to step in line with you. – “We are heading for the sport tracks, dreamer.” – Klaus informed you, tapping you on the cheek. – “Oh…” – you responded as it made him laugh. Known to your simple ‘oh’s of recognition that you completely missed the point.

Isadora, Duncan, Violet and Sunny taking the lead as Klaus remained by your side. – “I’m sorry.” – you told him, feeling a bit guilty. Fidgeting with your uniform from the nerves. Klaus noticed it, taking your hand to stop you from fidgeting. He brought your hand up, giving you a little tug that you were closer to him. – “I don’t need an apology dreamer.” – he told you. His response made you smile back at him.

Klaus lowered his hand, slowly taking his hand out of yours. Tugging them in his pockets. – “How are classes Y/n?” – he asked curious, pushing his glasses further up his nose. – “Why do you ask?” – you answered a bit suspiciously. – “I’m just asking.” – Klaus responded with a shrug of his shoulders.

“You think I barely catch up with him schoolwork, thinking I am not paying much attention, don’t you?” – you called out to him with an accusing point. – “Well are you?” – Klaus came to a stop, tilting his head a bit. You tried to keep a serious face, keeping your glare up, but it soon faltered. There was no lying to him.

Your hand dropped, shoulders slouching down with a deep sigh. – “Maybe…” – you said quietly don’t wanting to admit to it much. – “Y/n.” – Klaus groaned out that you weren’t paying attention. – “I can’t help it!” – you shouted back, pressing your palms against your eyes.

Klaus sighed soft, looking back at his sisters and the Quamire’s. – “Wait!” – he shouted loud for their attention. They all paused, turning around. – “Y/n and I am heading for the library.” – he said. Your friends simply nodded, continuing to leave. – “Why are we going to the library?” – you asked him. Klaus gave you a look, taking your hand. – “To study dreamer.” – he told you.

You let Klaus take you to the library to study. Education was important to him. His mind like a book computer. Everything he ever read still vivid in his mind, the information easy to grab. Like picking it from the shelves. You entered the library as it was almost deserted. But a few students who preferred to avoid the cafeteria sat down. Some desperately doing their homework. Others simply browsing through the books to pass the time.

Klaus eyed a table, setting you down. – “Stay here.” – he said, pressing his hands down on your shoulders. Confused, you looked from side to side, watching him leave. He disappeared into a row. Taking his time. You started kicking your feet back and forth. Thinking about being alone with him.

Before you could stop it, your head filled with things again. Thinking away about anything but your surroundings. They became numb as you weren’t paying close attention to them. You got startled when a stack of books dropped with a thud down on the table. – “Arise and shine, dreamer.” – Klaus chuckled out. You shot him a glare. – “I wasn’t dreaming.” – you told him, crossing your arms.

Klaus nodded not believing you, taking a seat beside you. He opened the first book, laying it out to you. – “Must I really?” – you asked him, grabbing hard onto the side of the chair. Klaus nodded. – “Unless you don’t wish to spend time with me alone?” – he asked pushing his glasses just a bit further up. Your eyes widened, making you wave your hands across.

“No of course I want to.” – you told him. – “Good.” – he replied opening another book. – “Consider it a study date.” – he said sheepishly. You turned bashful, turning your head away. – “Y/n.” – Klaus started, taking you by your chin to look at him. – “I need your full attention.” – he finished, gazing into your eyes. You nodded numbly, caught up by his stare.

Klaus started educating you. Whenever he felt like he was losing you, he tapped your forehead. Calling you ‘dreamer’ before continuing again. Each time you chuckled sheepishly that you had failed again. Klaus being very patient with it.

------------------------------

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[userlando]

sleep soft — max verstappen

max verstappen x fem!reader [4.3k] summary: the one where max comes back from canada and you can't wait for him to wake up. warnings: 18+ explicit smut, morning sex, oral sex (m receiving) a/n: I was apparently not ready to let go of max yet, so here ya go. fun fact: this idea gripped me by the throat very late at night so I had to write it all down before going to sleep. as always, don't be a ghost reader, i'd love to hear your thoughts! :) ily enjoy

You’ve pulled your legs up to your chest, arms wrapped around them to keep yourself balanced as you gazed out the window of your apartment. It was cloudy, dark enough that you’d never tell that the clock was nearing eleven in the morning. It was humid as well, as the weather often was in Monaco during the summer but the rain was coming down in showers in an unusual display.

There was something so calming about the patter of the rain against the windows, droplets racing down the glass panes and you quietly watched them while your mind wandered.

The apartment was quiet, eerily so, and you thought of the man who was currently splayed out on your bed; snoring while he caught up on some much needed sleep after the long week he’d had, smiling fondly at the memory of his slack jaw and relaxed face where you’d left him on the bed earlier.

You’d been asleep when Max came in late last night, the thud of his bag hitting the floor not even rousing you and you’d stayed asleep until he’d crawled into bed newly showered and wrapping his arms around your torso; wet hair sending shivers down your spine as it tickled your neck, smelling of sweet shampoo. Max had nuzzled your neck, whispering a quiet hi baby and you hadn’t stayed conscious long enough to welcome him back before you were pulled under yet again.

It had been a week since he left for Canada, and you didn’t realise how terribly accustomed you’d grown to his presence until he’d called when he landed in a different continent, letting you know that he’d arrived safely and was on his way to the hotel. There had been a yawning hole in your chest that only grew ten times its size as the days passed, but now he was back and you were itching to walk into the bedroom and wake him up. Your mind couldn’t quite believe that you could walk across the apartment to see his face, whereas before you’d squeeze in those late night video calls with a six hour time difference that turned out to be a bitch to work around.

You held back on waking him up though, telling yourself that he needed those extra hours of sleep and so you busied yourself with brewing coffee and feeding the cats, settling down in a kitchen chair with a notepad to jot down a grocery list. You’d made an awful habit out of ordering in when you’d been alone, but Max needed healthy and home cooked meals and you needed the refrigerator stocked for that.

Darker clouds rolled in over Monaco and it was only when it started to rumble in the distance that you decided that you’d waited long enough. Your body was yearning for warmth and comfort that only your boyfriend could provide, and you were quick and silent on your feet as you walked across the hall to the bedroom.

The first thing you did was crack open the balcony door to let some air in, enjoying the slight patter of rain water hitting your skin as a breeze blew by. You took in the hazy horizon of the city before turning around to the man on your shared bed.

Max was on his stomach, arms shoved under the pillow his head rested on and the blankets all tangled up by his legs. You took a second to admire the plane of his muscled back, tiptoeing quietly and heaving yourself up onto the mattress. It dipped as you laid down on your side, but Max didn’t even move a muscle so you took that as a sign to continue further.

You placed a hand on his back, letting your fingers draw small patterns over the moles and muscles; like you were reacquainting yourself with the dips and bumps of his body. You couldn’t see his face because he was turned the other way, but there was no mistaking the slight intake of breath when you bent down to press a kiss to his shoulder blade. There was a second where you thought that he’d woken up, but his breath was still even and quiet so you kissed the skin of his back until you heard a small inhale coming from above. His back dipped under your lips and you glanced up, trying to figure out whether he’d finally woken up and you got your answer when he suddenly made a sound in his throat.

“Wha’ are you doin’?” His words were slurred, raspy but there was a fondness in it that made you smile.

You adored the way his accent would sneak up out of nowhere in his state of confusion and sleepiness, it happened so often but it never failed to make your heart squeeze tightly in your chest.

“Good morning.” You greeted him softly, kissing up his back until you reached the slope between his shoulder blades, pulling back so you could get a look at the side of his face where it was mushed against the pillow.

His skin was sun kissed, freckles on his nose that only the sun could bring out and you couldn't help but reach out a hand to push back a few strands of his hair from his forehead. Max blinked at you, bleary eyed and oh so adorable that it made something fierce strike you in the stomach.

“Mornin’.” His eyes fluttered shut as he mumbled his quiet greeting, like sleep was threatening to overtake him and you frowned a little.

If you’d been a better person, you would’ve left him to sleep for another hour but you’d missed him and had been yearning for him in a way that you never really had for another person before. So, he couldn’t really blame you if you leaned over to press small kisses to his stubbled cheek and jawline, listening to his small moans like he was too tired to speak actual words.

He didn’t seem to mind though, tilting his head up further against your touches and that told you all you needed to know. He'd missed you as well.

“I missed you.” You murmured against his cheek, nuzzling your nose against the prickly skin and enjoying the way his lips slowly stretched into a sleepy smile.

He’d never tire of hearing it. There was something so reassuring with knowing that you missed him as much as he missed you when you were apart. People would call it dramatic, but he didn’t care. There was nothing worse than leaving you behind when work called, knowing that he’d have to endure a week where he wouldn’t wake up next to you or spot you smiling brightly from across the paddock.

Max turned around, grunting at the effort it took to untwist his legs from the covers and settle on his back without jostling you too much. You were still propped up on your side, hand in your head to support its weight as you watched on silently, amusement written all over your face.

“I missed you too.” He admitted at last, when he could take a good look at your face and see the way your face turned soft, eyebrows relaxing and eyes lighting up. “You look beautiful.”

He brushed your hair from your face, crooking the strands behind your ear. You turned your head to press a kiss to his palm, noisy and a little playful and it made Max grin despite the sleep still clinging to his bones like a warm blanket.

“You’re not allowed to leave me, ever again.” You said, tone joking but there was a certain vulnerability in your voice that made Max’s heart stutter a little.

He knew how hard being away from each other could be, especially when he travelled to locations with different time zones. It was difficult when you were so far ahead and his only time to really sit down and relax was late at night on his end. There had been a few times where Max had called, completely forgetting that it was six in the morning on your end but you’d still answered his call; voice croaky and hair standing on end. He couldn’t really bring himself to feel too guilty when he got a look at your bleary eyes and smile, it acted as a cold balm on his burns whenever he’d had a particularly hard day on the track or was just feeling homesick in general.

Max opened his arms for you when you burrowed your face into his neck, fighting to not squirm when your warm gusts of breath tickled his sensitive skin. He could smell the scent of your shampoo against his nose, and the floral perfume you always wore around the house. It stirred something deep in him.

“Oh, yeah?” He laughed a little when you nodded into his neck. “I’ll just have to resize you and put you in my pocket. Carry you around everywhere.”

You pulled back to look at him, hair a little wild and so beautiful that Max couldn’t stop staring even if he tried. Not that he really tried.

“Don’t joke about that, I’ll actually do it.” You said, dead serious and Max pushed his head into the pillow to bellow out a laugh. The sound was loud, filling the apartment with life and it was such a marvellous feeling that you couldn’t help but grin.

You pushed up to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, feeling your spine tingle at the feel of lips and you chased that feeling by kissing him more properly, feeling him exhale as he responded eagerly, bringing his hands up to cage your face.

He was making small noises in his throat, breath picking up when your hand brushed the hardness of his pectoral before descending down to the softness of his stomach. The hairs tickled your palm when you reached his bellybutton, and Max let out a needy sound against your lips when you slipped your fingers underneath the waistband of his underwear; not touching anything, just idling and teasing. You knew exactly what you were doing to him and he hated and loved it simultaneously.

“What are you up to?” He asked when you broke the kiss, eyes a little hazy and lips kissed raw. You blinked in mock confusion and innocence, your mouth twitching to keep the teasing smile off your face but you were doing a piss-poor job.

“I was just showing you how much I missed you,” you said, adding a dramatic sigh. “But if you’d much rather sleep, I’ll leave you to��“

You were about to pull your hand away but was stopped by Max circling his hand around your wrist, fingers digging pleasantly into your skin as his eyebrows pulled together.

“No, no.” He cut you off forcefully with a hidden laugh in his voice, grip going a little slack when you made no further move to detach yourself from him. “Show me how much you missed me.”

The smile that you’d been fighting to keep off your face broke out, heart speeding up a little when you tore your eyes away from him to look at your hand as it disappeared under the material of his underwear.

Max had managed to work himself up in the short amount of time together, finding him half-hard and warm in your hand when you gripped him. You gave an experimental and gentle pull, hearing him suck in a breath through his teeth at the roughness of your dry palm. You shot him an apologetic glance, receiving a kiss from him in acknowledgement.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from you when you pulled your hand out, licking a wet stripe over your palm so casually like it didn’t make Max’s stomach completely bottom out. It felt like his guts were spilling out with how jarring the sight was, eyes widening a little when you stuck your hand inside his underwear to try again.

A throaty moan escaped him when you took a hold of him, the slickness of it surprising him that he had to lay his head back down on the pillow and take a deep breath to calm his sudden racing heart. The blood was rushing so fast to his cock that it should’ve been embarrassing, but you seemed to take great delight in with the way your eyes were wide in arousal, bottom lip tucked between your teeth.

You jerked him to hardness, swiping your thumb over the wet of his head to collect the precum there and aid you as you slipped your hand down to his base, squeezing ever so gently just to hear him whimper on a breath.

The sound was so erotic in your ears that you had to take a second to collect yourself, bringing your eyes to his face and finding him already staring at you. There was a pink flush to his cheeks that hadn’t been there before, admiring the way his eyes had gone a little glassy with arousal. It was such a pretty sight to behold. To bring a man like Max to his wits end never failed to send you into a turmoil.

“Baby...” he trailed off quietly when you edged yourself down to the foot of the bed, pushing the covers away and settling between his splayed out legs. He blinked down at you, looking a little caught off guard. “Fuck, you’re perfect.”

You smiled at that, crooking your fingers into the hem of his underwear before pulling them down. There was a slight struggle to get them off completely but you made a sound of triumph when you finally managed to, making Max laugh.

“Fucking finally.” You grumbled when you finally had him right there in your bed, spread out and naked.

Max raised his brows in slight amusement, shifting where he laid when your eyes drank him in, like you couldn’t believe that this was your reality and not just another one of your dreams.

“You’re in a good mood today.” Max mused, eyes shifting to your hands where they sat on his thighs.

You felt the thickness of them, trailing them up to where he was straining and hard.

“How could I not be?” You felt your cheeks warm a little, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to the right side of his hip.

Max made a little sound, blowing out a breath when you slid your lips down to the base of his cock, lips ghosting over the side of it. He watched as your eyes fluttered shut, tongue sticking out to lick at the bottom of his cock and he balled his hands into fists to stop himself from grabbing at your head.

The air was heavy in the room, or maybe it was just Max feeling too turned on to take a proper deep breath, but it felt like he couldn’t breathe as you licked up from base to tip; tongue tantalising and sinful, eyes closed like you were enjoying the feel of him on your tongue.

He planted both of his elbows on the mattress, feeling it dip under the weight of him as he heaved himself up into a half-sitting position. Max’s arms shook dangerously when you licked over the head of his cock, tasting the pre on your tongue with a hum that made his stomach clench in absolute need.

“Shit, baby.” He stuttered, mouth falling open a little like he was searching for the right words to say. “You’re being so good for me. So pretty with my cock in your mouth.”

The hum you let out sent vibrations down his spine and he swore under his breath. You opened your eyes when he placed a hand on your cheek, sliding it further back so his fingers were spanning widely over your jawline and neck, and it felt like the air had been punched out of Max at the look of raw need in your eyes.

He took a mental picture of your eyes fastened on him, mouth stretched prettily around him and he filed that image away in his brain to use for whenever he’d be gone next and he found himself alone in his hotel room.

You made a noise when you took more of him in your mouth, swallowing when the thick length of him started stretching your lips. You were determined, needing to taste everything he had and he was all too happy to give you whatever you wanted. The pads of his fingers pressed down a bit on the flesh of your head the further you went down and you marvelled at the pressure, swallowing around him and making him jerk his hips up in surpris.

You gagged when he hit the back of your throat, pulling back with tears in your eyes and Max had to dig his blunt nails into his palm to stop himself from tipping over the edge at the string of saliva connecting from his cock to your slicked lips when you coughed. You swallowed the excess spit in your mouth and rubbed at your eyes to get rid of the tears and Max’s heart jumped.

“I’m sorry, you okay?” He asked, ignoring the hoarseness in his voice. He sat up but you were quick to wave him off with a dismissive noise from your throat, tongue peeking out to lick across your lips. “Took me by surprise.” The last bit was said quietly, a little embarrassed but your smile was bright enough to wipe any doubt away.

You didn’t answer him verbally, but the way you hurried to swallow him down was answer enough and Max’s arms gave out as he fell back on the bed with a moan. He could feel your giggling as you pulled back a bit, frowning a little because fuck, you were a little devil and he wanted to absolutely ruin you.

Hearing Max curse breathlessly was reward enough for you when your lips finally touched the base of his cock, tears springing to your eyes as you fought off your awful gag reflex. You held it for a few seconds until you pulled off slowly, putting a little suction that had your boyfriend’s eyes rolling in his head.

The slick sound of him falling out of your mouth and hitting the lower part of his abdomen made him blink his eyes open, glancing down at you and he nearly lost his mind at the sight of your smiling face. The wide eyed look on your face made you seem so innocent but the saliva slicked lips and the fact that you were laying between his legs told another story.

His fingers itched to grope for his phone, wanting to snap a photo of you so badly but he could count on all ten of his fingers why it’d be a bad idea, so he pushed both hands through your hair; brushing it away from your face in the process and you preened at the soft touch of him, nuzzling into his hand against your cheek.

You let him guide you up to hover over him, caging him in with your hands on either side of his head when he pulled you closer for a kiss. Max could feel his hips twitch when he licked into your mouth, tasting himself on your tongue and it was so deprived that it made him crave more.

“Wanna fuck you.” He whispered against your mouth, hands finding the waistband of your shorts but you were quick to make a noise of protest. Max blinked in surprise and confusion when you grabbed his hands and pulled them away from your waist.

“No, not right now.” You said, pressing an open mouthed kiss to his lips that was so hasty that he barely managed to react to it. “I wanna taste you.”

Max’s eyebrows shot up in his forehead, the skin above crinkling in surprise at the words that came from your mouth. The way you said it was quiet, shy but so determined that he couldn’t deny you of it. And who was he to say no, really? He’d be an absolute idiot to turn you down.

“‘m not gonna last long.” Max warned.

Your lips stretched into a slow smile that did his head in and he hurried to kiss them before you began your descent down between his legs yet again.

His cock hadn’t flagged one bit and you took pleasure in the way his mouth fell open into a sinful moan when you took him in, lips once again stretching deliciously.

You knew it was only a matter of time before your jaw started aching, so you picked up a pace that had Max moaning into the quiet apartment; one hand coming up to cover his face while the other settled gently over the back of your head. Not pushing or even guiding you, but to have something to hold on to so he could ground himself.

It wasn’t easy to hold back though, stomach going taut when you pulled out all the tricks you knew would tip him right over the edge.

“Fuck, sweetheart. I’m gonna—“ He trailed off, raising his legs up just a little to plant the soles of his feet against the mattress. You moaned, the sound vibrating his cock and his mouth fell open as he stuttered out your name. “Gonna come.”

He said it like it was a warning, expecting you to pull off and you probably should’ve with the way your jaw was locking up, aching beyond belief but you were so determined to see it through the end. Max gave another warning through gritted teeth that sounded a lot like your name before his hand in your hair tightened, borderline painful, and he shot off with a guttural moan that trailed off into a breathless whimper, spurt after spurt painting the back of your throat.

You swallowed, eyes locked on his face to take in the way it scrunched up so beautifully, tipping him over the edge and working him through his drawn out high. His hips sunk into the mattress where they’d raised up subconsciously, hand in your hair going slack as he started to come down from his high. It was only when he made a pained little whimper that you pulled off, licking him clean and avoiding his sensitive head in the process.

Max’s heart was going a mile a minute and he mustered the last of his strength to grapple at your arms, pulling weakly until you got the memo and once again crawled up his body. You sat on his thighs and leaned forward, a smile playing on your lips that looked a little too smug. Max’s answering laugh sounded breathless even in his own ears, thinking that he wanted to fuck that smile off your face. It should've been so illegal to look as good as you did, wiping at your mouth so prettily like you hadn't just sent Max straight to hell and back.

Your eyes sparkled like you knew where his mind was wandering and the man beneath you couldn't help but lean up to kiss you. The scrunch of your nose and the sound you made halted him though, and he shot you a questioning glance.

“Do you really want to do that?” You asked, whispering like the thought of it scandalised you.

Max raised his brows as if to say really? because when had he ever cared before?

“Don’t be silly.” He poked a finger into your side and grinned when it made you jump, shooting him a glare. “Now come here and give me a kiss.”

You couldn’t deny that it made your insides twist in want when he slotted his mouth against yours, making tiny sounds when he tasted himself and you both smiled, teeth gently knocking together. He brushed his nose against yours when you pulled back to catch your breaths, touching your jaw with a soft brush of his fingers.

“I could get used to being woken up like this.” He said, grinning when you rolled your eyes playfully.

Because the both of you knew that you were far from a morning person. You kissed him, a quick peck that ended far too soon for Max’s taste and he was quick to slide his fingers through your hair and haul you back to his lips, kissing you so heatedly that you felt it in your toes.

He revelled in the sounds you made against his lips, tightening his grip in your hair until your mouth dropped open into a breathless moan. Your eyelids fluttered, hips dragging against his thighs and it took a second for Max to realise that you were trying to rub off on him. Something about that realisation sent his mind reeling, the need flaring up so suddenly that it felt like a punch to his gut.

You let out a startled squeal when he rearranged the both of you, flipping you over a little clumsily in his haste but you went easily until your back was resting against the mattress and he was straddling you.

He thought back to his need to ruin you just a few minutes prior and decided that he’d recuperated enough to pay you back for your generosity, hands finding your shorts and dipping inside.

Your eyelids got heavy but you were still staring at his face, mouth dropping into a delicious O when he located your swollen clit over the cotton material of your panties.

“Perfect.” He rasped, and you weren't quite sure what he was referring to but you couldn't bring yourself to care when he was looking at you like that. Like you held his entire world in the palm of your hands.

So, you circled your arms around his head and brought him in for a kiss, letting the rain outside be the soundtrack of your morning as Max brought you to new highs.

[prefer-to-be-vilified]

The Addams curse is just the far majority of the family being demi-sexual and insane.

It’s why that although they are a family of powerful witches no one has managed to break the curse. Because no curse was actually cast.

But the legend and subsequent ‘proof’ of its existence has lived on so they all believe it’s true. Most of these ace-spec bitches genuinely believing they’re immune until they fall in love and then they’re like “aha! the curse has struck again!”

Morticia figured this out not long after meeting Gomez’s extended family, but shit stirrer that her younger self was decided to keep that information to herself and played along for her own amusement.

Which has paid off ten fold as she now gets to watch her fiercely independent walking advertisement for the Addams curse of a daughter drive herself mad trying to break the curse after noticing that she’d developed *gasp* feelings for an overtly sensitive, brightly coloured werewolf girl with the personality of a rainbow.

“I’m not in love with Enid. The very idea is ridiculous. I just like looking at her and smelling her and holding her hand and sometimes I fantasise about dying in her warm embrace… But those are just symptoms of the curse, there is no other explanation. I should have taken the warnings more seriously.” - W.A.

Which then leads to six months worth of frequent conversation similar to the following that Morticia will never let go of,

Wednesday: Mother it pains me to say this but I need your help. The curse has me in it grasp and it’s killing me. I cannot focus on breaking the hold it has on me and our family because all I can think about is her… and the way my name sounds upon her sweet lips as if she’s calling me to my own doom.

Morticia, flipping through gothic wedding magazines and trying to think of ways to include pink without making half their family nauseous: Why don’t you take Enid out on a friendly excursion darling. Perhaps if you’re around her for an extended period of time the yearning will wain and you’ll be able to focus on your task more efficiently.

Wednesday: Good idea. I’ll take her for a walk through the cemetery.

Morticia: There are roses in the conservatory I’ve yet to chop the heads off you can bring to her. And don’t forget to tell her she looks pretty or your father will be very disappointed in you.

Wednesday: Obviously. I’m not an animal.

Morticia: And if you feel the need to kiss her I wouldn’t fight it. Who knows what will happen if you do.

Wednesday: Nothing good, I presume. It must be done. Thank you, mother. You’re advice has been satisfactory.

Morticia: Of course, darling. Have an miserable date with your beloved.

[bvidzsoo]

Love Me Like A Rockstar (9)

ー☆ Chapter 9: You (Show Me Where My Days Went)

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Song Mingi x female reader

ー☆ Warning: cursing ー☆ Word count: 9.8k ー☆ Genre: university!au, enemies to lovers!au, rockstar!au ー☆ Rating: sfw ー☆ 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♫

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?

『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: :))

            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』

❱❱ Next chapter

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❀ complete the forms if you're interested! ^^

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 :))

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 ^^

[obihoebikenobi]

Poolverine Series: to gain true love, one must first lose their wolvirginity, i don't make the rules

By: obihoebikenobi, 23.6K as of September 13th, 2024

It's a love story baby just get fucked. Logan and Wade's love story, written in somewhat disconnected parts.

I descended into Poolverine hell and wrote a 20K and counting series about these two fuckers. Featuring: softness, migraines, love confessions, domesticity, and fucking. All that good shit.

See summaries, relevant tags, ratings, and links to all fics on ao3 below.

PART 1: i wanna hold your hand (and colossal dick, eventually), 3.5K

Rating: M

Tags: alcohol withdrawl, vomiting, literally sharing a bed, bathing/washing

“Fuck you, Wade.” “If only,” Wade said, trailing a finger over a seam on the quilt with feigned yearning, “I long for the day you allow me the pleasure of ravishing your raw skin-saber, maybe with a side of penetration–” “The only thing I’ll be penetrating is your eye sockets with these,” Logan flashed his claws, “If you so much as speak to me while we are still in this bed tomorrow morning.” “Joke's on you, I will gladly and enthusiastically take any form of penetration, in existing or fresh new holes, as long as it’s from you, Peanut.” Logan’s head pounded, but he wasn’t sure if it was from Wade’s persistent blabbering, or the fact that the last of the alcohol was wearing off. “Go the fuck to sleep.” Logan downed the last sip of vodka and willed his body to cooperate. Withdrawal was a bitch. (one pull-out couch, two bitches, vomiting, and the works, now with fucking in part two!)

PART 2: a little bit more than hand holding, 2.7K

Rating: E

Tags: wade is obsessed with dicks, bottom wade, little bit of praise kink, logan just wants a kissi

“Oh so that’s your horny face then? Watery eyes, clenched teeth? Nothing hotter than a tortured poet with a heart of gold who cries during sex.” “Wade–” “If that’s horny I’d love to see your O-face–” Wade threw an arm over his forehead, gasping. “Can you just shut the fuck up for one goddamn second, asshole?” Logan dared a sharp glance in Wade’s direction, finding him sitting perfectly still with a pleasant smile painted across his face. The smug piece of shit knew Logan wanted him. Logan cleared his throat, “Now that I have your attention,” he started, earning a snort from Wade, “So we’re clear, the more words that come out of your mouth, the more likely I’m going to sleep early and no one's getting fucked.”   (wade loses his wolvirginity)

PART 3: lesser of two evils, right?, 7.5K

Rating: E

Tags: sub logan (kinda), crying during sex, soft, rimming, angst, praise kink

“When you’re done being a bitter little bitch, I’m offering you a massage, of the non-dick variety. Because I am a nice person.” It was, indeed, surprisingly nice. Logan stared at him, hating himself for actually wanting the fucking massage, because he sure as shit shouldn’t have wanted it. “I’m going to take that blank, lifeless stare as a hell yeah. So take off your shirt and come with daddy,” Wade pointed toward the bedroom expectantly, lips drawn into a wide smile. “Don’t call yourself that again. Ever.” What a little shit. (logan gets migraines, but also gets a massage, and an orgasm. it's a lot.)

PART 4: holding hands (gone sexual), 5.3K

Rating: E

Tags: discussion of consent and logan's past issues, insecure logan, bottom logan, domestic fluff, love confessions, praise kink

“Oh my god. Oh my god.” Oh for fuck’s sake. Logan probably shouldn’t have stopped considering throwing himself in a meat grinder– “Have I died in my sleep? Is this yet another whimsical dream where I have a house husband to take care of my every need and whim whilst I labor away every fucking single day, with so little appreciation, just to feed our child–” “Shut the fuck up,” Logan muttered, feeling the stain of red warmth over his cheeks. “I don’t know what I have done to deserve this, Peanut, but I am so fucking turned on right now. I might come in my pants. That happens when people are nice to me.” “Wade, it’s waffles–” “Don’t be a kink-shamer, baby girl. Benevolence and breakfast foods get me going. Don’t even get me started on sausages.” (logan explores his feelings with wade, makes waffles for wade, gets fucked by wade, falls in love...with wade)

PART 5: and they were boyfriends (and roomates), 4.4K

Rating: E

Tags: love confessions, insecure logan, drinking to cope, angst and hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort

“I’m good.” For whatever reason, Wade apparently took that as an invitation to sit down next to him, and Logan growled, moving over so they weren’t touching. Wade shivered, scoffing at him, and kicking Logan’s foot. “Clearly not, Peanut. You’ve smoked a week’s wage of cigs in three hours and I’m fairly certain you’re still not unfucked up from all that cheap-ass donkey piss you call whiskey.” Logan was seconds, maybe milliseconds, from punching him in the fucking face–with claws–but he held back, knowing Wade only thrived on retaliation. “What’s it matter to you?” The words felt sour on his tongue and he practically spat them in Wade’s direction. “Well,” Wade took a deep breath, “I’m probably the reason–scratch that–I’m definitely the reason you’re clearly not good.” (wade takes a mid love-confession job, logan drinks about it. cue angst. subsequently, boyfriendship.)

[cheesemaggots]

❥ HIT ME !

⋆་ ˖   ⏝⏝︶   ୨ ♡ ୧   ︶⏝⏝   ˖ ་⋆ ࣪ ⋆་ ˖   ⏝⏝︶   ୨ ♡ ୧   ︶⏝⏝   ˖ ་⋆ ࣪

╰₊✧ work - cheese maggots.tm

pairing: Sub! Izuku x Dom! Fem! reader

K!NKS - spanking , degradation , nicknames ( mommy , sissy , femboy..) , female dominance , heavy fore play ,

WARNING ! MY WORK IS NOT CHILD SAFE ! IT SHOWS $EXUAl$ CONTENT THAT'S NOT FOR CHILDREN! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!!

song ꒰ uhhhhhh - framed

" AHHH ~"

A loud and unapologetic moan yelped from Izuku's mouth with no regard for anyone else around him but you.

" Please , mommy! I'll be a good slutty cvnt. Please , hit my ass!"

He screamed out , again. You quickly yank back the green silky locks on Izuku's scalp , broadcasting his ahegao to you. " Do you need it?"

"Yes! Oh , Yes! Mommy! Pleaseee" He breathlessly yelled out with excitement. * SLAP* Izuku wiggled his hips looking for your touch.

"uh!" He moaned out. the sweet embrace of you're hand flooded him with pleasure.

"C'mon." I said.

" One."

Like the obedient dog he was, he remembered his mommy's orders or that would be a triple round of spanking with me recording him. " ah!" Another hand stroked his twerkmounds. " Ahhhhhh~" elongated moan, " please hit me harder , mommy. Punish me! I should've never cum without your orders."

" Hit me. SLAP me. Abuse me."

slap , slap , slap * Quickly after Izuku grunted out 2,3 and 4.

Strike after strike filled the room with moans & the sound of Izuku's fatass clapping against your hand. * SLAP ! " Mhm !" " Yes , mommy. Abuse your femboys woddle meat." slap after slap , Izuku cried and cried for more. Your hand already imprinted into his asses flesh minutes ago yet he yearned for more. More of your power. More of your tournament.

I harshly sway my hand back before spanking him again. Recoiling his body up and down before his sweet lips releasing more pleasure. At this point it's been more than 20 hits, his ass is red and scattered with hand prints , his thin shorts are drenched in precum & his back so arched he looks like he could snap at mintune.

"Get on the floor and look at me."

Mindlessly Izuku gets off the bed and righting onto the floor , kneeling right upon your feet. " .. " he groans for your pleasure.

" What's your name?" I said coldly, staring at him.

" Mommy's cum dump." I noticed at the sound of my words , his nipples shot up , erected like his soaked cock.

" Are you sure?"

" Yes." he looked confused,

" It's okay. I know sissy's bitch boys like you can't think very much but instead of spanking your ass red again i'll give you a second chance." I bluntly started at Izuku.

He cock dripped out some precum as he basically mentally nutted himself. " Y-yes , Mommy."

" Your name?"

" Mommy's Princess." he says embarrassed.

" Awww , don't be so embarrassed. you practically are a pink princess. I mean I fuck you all day , mind break until you cum your balls dry and leave your hole a mess."

" y-yeah."

" Now your reward is either A. I fuck you senseless with my dildo or B. You watch me slap you until you cum on yourself."

" B..." He bluntly shouts out without another thought.

"What a dumb bimbo."

A quick grab Izuku's by his hair , he stares at me hungrily waiting for the slap across his face. ' Ah !" With one slap , a jolt shoots through his body, his nipple pierce through his shirt and his cock shoots out a long string of pre cum. " Mommy! " * SLAP * SLAP "MHm!" * SLAP

" please ! "Uh!" Izuku stroked his cock violently as I slapped him senselessly. "Cum! " " I want to cum , mommy!"

I violently slap him again and again as his eyes shoot the back of his head , he cock blasts large white strips of semen all over his shorts , the floor and even on his shirt.

" M-" " M-" He tries to speak out his words as his body is covered in nothing but red sores.

THE END.

editors notes.

p.s. sorry this wasn't as good but I still hope you enjoy this! I'll be trying to upload more and more :) be safe , happy , make sure to bring water today and have a heartly meal , good night !

[sordidmusings]

Tender Love and Care - Hair Care (Buggy x amab!Reader

Art by ijessbest on Twitter (refusing new name still) I believe they also have a tumblr by the same name!

A/N: Sorry I took so long to post this and thank you for your patience! I had thought I put it up earlier but noticed that wasn't true while doing some organizing. The differences are pretty subtle but I hope they are meaningful for your immersion and help you feel seen! If there's something I can do better (I am cis fem so I'm sure there's much my experience has me missing about yours) please let me know! I'd like to help y'all get your escapism too 🤍

From the original a/n - "Ah yes, another 'taking care of Buggy's head' fic to take up space on the internet. Just gotta indulge in giving this man some tlc. Did I write four thousand words of simping for the cringefail pirate clown's hair? Yes. And I'd do it again >:p"

Word Count: ~4k

Warnings: masculine leaning amab!reader (no pronouns or gendered titles), Lots of Feelings, yearning, possibly angst?, probably hurt/comfort?, waxing very poetic, Buggy being a prickly bitch who doesn't know how to receive affection, Buggy also being a delusional bitch who immediately latches on to that affection

afab!Version

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

“Touch the makeup and I’ll bite your fingers off!”

“I’m quaking.”

“...I’ll spit in your face.” His eyes narrowed while you blanched. “I’ve got damn good aim too so you better watch those big ol’ eyes.” Almost a compliment? Progress.

“To save us both from catastrophe, I’ll let you keep your grease-face,” you promised. After a few more seconds of giving you the stink eye (really, you should be taking notes because his form is exemplary), Buggy finally settled back into your hold. His stubble scratched lightly at your palms and you allowed your thumbs a scant few passes from his cheek bones to the back of his jaw. That was easy enough to play off as mindless movements while you examined him for the coming wash. Hopefully.  You were at least putting in the effort to keep the affection in your chest from blooming into a wide smile on your face, lest he begin spitting like a wet cat again.

After placing him down on your clothes chest, you began gathering together the things you’d need to clean him up. You had already prepared a large basin of steaming water before you had grabbed Buggy from Zoro for your night shift with him. If he had truly protested against you then you’d just have extra water to spoil yourself with for your nightly routine. What a loss. While you flitted around grabbing a cup, a pile of towels, and care products, Buggy took to commenting about whatever his eyes fell on around your room. Your half-assed replies did nothing to discourage his gentle roast of your safe space. He only shut up when you picked him back up and brought him over to the basin.

You were taken by surprise when you took off his bandana.  You had guessed that his hair was thick from the pieces that framed his face, but you hadn’t expected long locks to be wrapped up in there. They slipped and fell down like silk despite being in clear need of a wash, and you started to become a bit excited to see how they would come to shine under your care.

“What’s wrong with you? Never seen hair before?” There was a bit more bite to him all of a sudden and it hit you that he may be self-conscious from your staring.

“Never seen yours before, duh,” you teased. “You should wear your hair out as a power move against all the scrangly ass men in these waters.”

Buggy took a blank-faced moment to process your words. Probably weighing your sincerity against the backlog of insults he’s heard in his life. Unfortunately, one joking compliment never stood a chance.

“Whatever, just do your job.” His bitter tone made you keep your mouth shut and drop the topic. For now.

Seeing how he had a lot more hair than anticipated, you got up again to grab yet another towel so that you could use it as a cushion. Finally settled, you grabbed Buggy in one hand, the cup in the other, and got to work. You had laid a small board across the basin so you could rest Buggy on it instead of having to hold him up the whole time. You may have gotten strong in this life, but you were not masochistic enough to try holding him up throughout this process. You made sure to be extra gentle when you put him to rest on the back of his head, mindful that the hard plank wasn’t the most comfortable.

Wetting his hairline was taking longer than you thought. The soft noises from the pouring water hitting his scalp and trickling through his hair into the basin below felt loud in the stillness of the room. Everything had a languid air like you could breathe freely without thought or time to measure the passing of each exhale. Wanting to check in, you looked down from your task and into Buggy’s face. Despite all his past showboating, Buggy was having difficulty keeping his gaze anywhere near your face.  You decided to take pity on him in his discomfort but not too much. “So how’d you get your damn good aim?”

Silence.

You’re beginning to think that him looking at you like you’re stupid is his comfort zone.

“You know, that ‘damn good aim’ that makes my ‘big ol’ eyes’ easy targets?” you supplied.  At first, you thought he would roll his eyes and make more digs at you, but he finally caught you off guard.

“It’s a trade secret,” he said with a growing smile and a glint in his eyes. His face grew even more pleased when you smiled mischievously back at him.

“Clown trade?”

He hummed out an affirmative. You saturated the last of his hair at the front and sides and now needed to dunk the rest in the basin. The sheer amount of long blue locks that this pretty, pretty man had may cause it to overflow, but you supposed that’s just a workplace hazard when becoming a glamor clown’s hairdresser. You paused in lowering him to look around quite dramatically (squinty eyes, pursed lips, and all) before leaning slightly closer to stage whisper, “You can tell me; I ain’t no snitch.”

You barely caught the laugh that he choked short in order to keep up his serious facade. He let his eyes wander the room to double check your surveying and pretended to be in thought. He let out a heaving sigh and said, “Okay, okay, but you have to lean in close. Can’t have this getting out.”

Ever obliging, you turned your head and leaned until you felt his warm breath on your skin and the roundness of his nose tickling to top of your ear. You were thankful he couldn’t see the little shiver down your spine or the goosebumps spreading down your neck. He was thankful you couldn’t see him close his eyes to savor the scent of your aftershave. All was still for a few breaths too long.

“The secret?” you prompted, thinking he was waiting for your urging or that he was just trying to make you squirm. You didn’t see his eyes flutter open while he forced thoughts other than your closeness back into that head of his. Okay, he really needed to do something to reel himself back in and get some control of the situation.  Easier said than done when he’s only a head.

You felt as much as you heard him take a deliberate inhale… only for a loud raspberry to be blown right next to your ear.

Nearly dropping him in shock, you quickly pulled your head back and held him at arm’s length like a misbehaved puppy. Through his canting cackles, Buggy met your wide eyes with a proud grin. It didn’t even need the help of his makeup to split his face. Damn, you could stare at that forever. He had just the prettiest eyes you think you’d ever seen. The way they shifted color under the low lights and sparkled with his smile had you feeling entranced. It had the same commanding presence and addicting warmth as flames with their own swirling colors and sparking embers. You thought your poetic idioms for him would always center around the sea, especially for his blue-green eyes, but here we are.

The corner of his smile started to twitch downward under your stare until wild and cheerful laughter burst from your lips. They were the kind to shake your shoulders and scrunch your cheeks up into your eyes and he’s now certain that he has fucked right up. Buggy felt alarms blaring in his mind as he took in your joy and was certain he would make an absolute fool of himself in any and all ways possible to keep getting hits of it. Between your settling chuckles, you managed to say, “Don’t worry, I’ll bring that wisdom with me to my grave.”

Readjusting your grip, you moved forward and dunked the back of Buggy’s head fully into the water. He sighed out at the sensation, but he fully melted when one of your hands went to support the back of his skull and the other flowed through his tresses to make sure all of them were wet. You let yourself take your time, both to make sure you were thorough and to indulge yourself in the comfort of the moment. A tenderness spread through you when you saw that this was also indulging Buggy. His breath was slow and steady, and his eyes were resting closed to better focus on the sensations coming to him. You truly were a people pleaser at heart and seeing someone so bedraggled and affection-starved accept your care made your heart and head feel fuzzy.

You slowly leaned him more upright and used your other hand to wipe out some of the excess water. Buggy felt you shuffling around, and his eyes opened to see what you were up to. After you moved him to rest on the flat bottom of his neck on top of the softest towel that he’s felt in ages, he realized that you went through the trouble to try to make even that wooden board comfortable for his sake. He was starting to feel even more uncertain and out of his element.

Careful fingers carded through and spread out his hair behind him while an equally careful gaze watched over their work. After lathering your hands with a shampoo bar scented by vanilla and spices, you set to work giving him the scalp massage of a lifetime.

While focusing on doing the best job possible and maybe also the beautiful color of his hair was keeping you from thinking about anything else, Buggy had no such luxury. He had nothing to direct his nervous energy at - didn’t even have fingers to fidget with! - so he closed his eyes and tried to keep his face neutral. Everyone enjoys a good scalp massage or at least some kind of pampering so it wouldn’t have been weird for him to visibly enjoy it, but something watery and vulnerable was pressing at his throat under your tender care. His mind and body (well… head) were at odds. While his train of thought spun every which way only to be tethered back to the word ‘why’, his muscles melted until they were soft and pleasantly limp. Has his brow ever been so smooth? His jaw so loose? His lips so softly set? Oh God, you must have noticed the stubborn stiffness in his neck because your fingers abandoned his hair to firmly rub from the base of his skull to where he met the towel and that was truly his undoing.

With a rumbly hum, Buggy finally gave in to temptation and tied his mind to your movements. He let himself imagine affection there - imagine that this was special and just for him. You’ve never tended to anyone else like this. You offered because you simply had to know what his hair felt like. You just wanted to touch him. You wanted it much more than you ever wanted to touch anyone else. If he opened his eyes and looked up at yours, he would see them pouring with love, just like your hands were, and you would look sweetly down at him with your gorgeous eyes and handsome smile and say lovely things and you’d love him-

You’d love him.

Fuck.

You noticed Buggy suddenly flinch under your hands and you tensed up.

“Are you okay? Did I snag your hair?” You hadn’t felt anything tug but you supposed you could’ve missed it.

Buggy cleared his throat before stiffly responding, “No. Keep going.”

Something thick in his tone caught your attention and you looked to see his expression was tense instead of the blissed out one you had admired not too long ago. That won’t do. You went back to the tried and true pressure points on the scalp that you knew from experience eased anyone up. Checking his face again, you noticed it was more relaxed but still too guarded for your tastes. Deciding he must be getting antsy, you switched to working the shampoo down his hair after getting a touch more product on your hands. The time it took to get it properly sudsed and rinsed was calm, despite the fact that there was some undercurrent to the air that felt charged. Maybe it was just from seeing the talkative and bratty clown be so subdued. As you began spreading conditioner through his hair, you decided that it was time to engage him again.

“This bar is my favorite; nothing makes my hair softer,” you said. Already, his hair was relaxing to glide even more smoothly between your fingers. You weren’t ready to give the feeling up, so you spent the entire time that the conditioner was setting to run your fingers through his hair.

Buggy couldn’t do anything at the moment to judge your claim, but the smell alone made him understand why it was your favorite. It matched that of the shampoo bar, but the richer ingredients in the conditioner highlighted the comforting tones of the vanilla and the sensuality of warm spices and wood. He relished in it on every inhale, hoping to unravel and memorize its every undertone. Was that a touch of amber in there? A little pink peppercorn? Maybe some incense and oud at the base? Buggy suddenly felt ridiculous. He was never one to give much thought to fancy perfumes, yet here he was trying to dissect your scent like a sommelier tasting a new wine. 

You made quick work of rinsing his hair this final time and gently pushing and squeezing any excess water out. You set Buggy back on a towel, this time one that was spread on the floor. It was the one that you had just been sitting on. Buggy was embarrassed that he noticed and enjoyed the fact that he could still feel your body heat on it.

“How many of those things do you have?” Buggy scoffed as you pulled yet another towel over to dry his hair. You flicked his forehead in warning against further sass.

“You can never have too many. It’s something that you use daily and they come in handy during emergencies,” you explained.

“Oh yeah like what?”

“Well, I was thinking of situations like having to soak up a spill or blood, but the state of your hair definitely qualifies.”

The outburst was immediate.

“I KNEW YOU WERE MAKING FUN OF ME YOU DAMN LIAR! HOW DA-”

Good thing you were prepared for this and stuffed some of yet another towel into his screaming mouth. He bit down on it harshly and glared at you with all his might. Snarls and grumbles still made their way through the cloth, letting you know just how displeased he was. You were a little shocked to find that despite being gagged and despite just being a head that his glare still actually intimidated you. The time spent with the crew treating him like a harmless little pest had helped you forget that, when push came to shove, he could back up his talk with violence.

The brief glimpse of fear in your eyes gave him a twinge of satisfaction but mostly felt a lot more hollow than he’d expected. Wasn’t this what he wanted? 

When you reached back out to continue drying his hair, you were more tentative than he had ever seen you and his mood dropped even further. Even with your caution, the way that you moved the towel over his hair and gently squeezed more water out of it was filled with care. The whole thing felt very foreign to him. Buggy usually rubbed his towel through his hair chaotically like the more forceful he was the sooner he could get done with the bothersome task. You were working over him like any undue force would be an insult. Like he was something precious. That watery feeling started pressing on him again.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you started quietly. “I just meant to poke fun, not make you actually feel insulted.” After a few more soft pats with the towel, you slowly removed his makeshift gag. He took a moment to wiggle around his jaw and get the dry feeling out of his mouth.

“Yeah, well good job, dumbass,” he bit. You winced at the hurt in his tone. “Just finish up.”

You took a moment to recenter yourself while you grabbed your comb and brush. This was not how you wanted this to go. One wrong comment had sent this whole interaction spiraling and it made you sad. Sensitivity like that was usually built up from years of feeling the same hurts over and over again, and you didn’t ever want to be someone to aggravate an already festering wound, especially not on someone who you genuinely enjoyed. Not on someone who you were increasingly craving affection from. This needed to be fixed. Steeling yourself for the resistance you were about to meet, you began combing the ends of his hair and spoke, “The blue color is pretty.”

He ignored you. As expected.

“It was one of the first things I noticed about you.” He still wouldn’t even glance up at you. “Also how it brings out the color of your eyes.”

He snorted dismissively in a way that very clearly told you he wasn’t believing a word you said. Also expected. You’re just going to have to soldier on until this eventually worked… maybe worked… hopefully worked?

Just as in the rest of the process, you were slow and thorough when combing his hair. You murmured compliments to him about how soft it is; how thick and how beautiful. By the time that you had switched to using your brush, he was showing signs of being worn down by your flattery. His face was more relaxed and he let himself look around instead of trying to burn a hole through the floor. All you could focus on, though, was how downcast and tired his eyes looked.

“Alright, I’m all finished up,” you told him. “I’m going to put you in the hammock for a minute while I get ready for bed.”

After placing him in the middle of your bedding, you disappeared behind a dressing screen. The routine of bathing  yourself with a washcloth and bowl of soapy water eased you. Since you had taken so much time tending to Buggy, the last bowl of fresh water had become lukewarm. Despite this, the final wipe down had you feeling refreshed and ready to jump into bed. It was no soak in the tub, but still left you feeling much better after a long day of helping work around the ship.

You had set about your routine briskly so that you didn’t leave Buggy waiting too long. Little did you know, he didn’t mind the time of having nothing to do besides enjoy the soft blankets you curled up in every night. He was trying to soak it in before you inevitably put him back down on the floor. If the night had taught him anything, you’d at least put him on one of those fluffy towels instead of throwing him back in the bag like the others did.

You came over to him on the hammock and he admired how you looked, now clean and fresh. His eyes poured over your shirtless chest and the thin sleep pants moving around the shape of your legs. When you picked him back up, your face and body language were as placid as he had ever seen them and he was surprised at how content that made him feel. He readied himself to be moved away, left cold and forgotten, but he was astonished when you plopped yourself in your bedding instead with him still in your hands. The shock must have shown on his face because you chuckled at him and gave him a bright smile. Even with the bumpy road that the night had been, your smile made him soft and content. He was realizing with more and more resignation that your smile and laugh would let you get away with anything when it came to him.

“So no floor? Trying to bribe me with favors?” His voice was mostly back to that sarcastic lilt you’ve come to adore.

Content that he was feeling better, you answered, “Nah, just using you so I can have a teddy bear. Haven’t had a good one in ages.”

Making good on that promise, you made sure that he was securely nestled into your neck and shoulder. You used both of your arms to cradle him there and both hands to continue your worship of his hair. It was just barely damp and the coolness felt nice on your hands, especially in contrast to the cozy heat emanating from his head. His long eyelashes tickled at your neck every time he blinked, just like the light scruff on his jaw teased at the skin on your chest. His big nose felt cozy rested on your clavicle, and you had to resist the urge to reach down and trail your fingers on it. A giddy and victorious feeling flushed through you when you felt him close his eyes a final time and sink into your embrace.

Buggy should have known that he was doomed from the start. He was having a hell of a time trying not to moan at your fingers scratching and massaging his scalp, both during the hair care and now, when he was held in your arms. The feeling of being rested on your bare chest sent his heart racing. He couldn’t stop his little movements to nestle into you and get just that much more of your warmth and touch. If he thought that he loved the smell of you before, he was absolutely intoxicated now that he knew what it was like when it floated over the two of you while wrapped in body-warmed sheets.

He wanted to ask you why you were doing all of this, but he didn’t want to know the answer. Not right now. Right now he was going to let himself go back into that place in his head where you lo- cared about him. A place where each night he would crawl into bed with you and, no matter how the day went, you would be there to empty his mind of anything but the two of you. You’d greet him with a kiss or a laugh or an embrace and you would shine with so much joy because he’s next to you again. He’d know what your love felt like, how it felt to be under your hands, how your skin felt under his lips. All these daydreams swirling in his head started to make him sick with want, and he needed to know at least one of them. He couldn’t handle all of them staying forever in his mind.

The tiniest increase of pressure from his lips brought your attention to where they rested below your collarbone. The almost kiss was so heartbreakingly shaky and hesitant that you felt your eyes burn with the threat of tears. To reassure him, you dragged your cheek across his temple before turning to leave a deliberate kiss there. Buggy relished the contact, the satisfied sigh you let out afterward, and the gentle weight of your cheek as you snuggled back into him. Your reward came in the form of a grinning cheek pushing into you.

All his humor and posturing certainly caught your attention in the best way and even his explosive temper was something you couldn’t say turned you away. This gentleness, though, this uncertain and wounded place, had you bursting with affection and you were hoping to keep experiencing it. You’d meet it each time with steady affection until it turned into something he embodied with the same surety that he had in his beloved spotlight.

Both of you slipped more sweetly into dreams, curled up together as you were, and with more peace and ease than the years before had allowed. Neither of you would let the years to come be absent of this sweet treasure, either.

[edensremains]

consequences 2

↳summary: aftermath of consequences!

↳LALALALALALALALALALALALALALA Vox in pain

Vox only realized after three weeks that you really weren’t coming back.

He’d spent those first few days watching the city cameras for any sign of you without any luck, the last time he was able to see you being you walking away from him and out of his life for the foreseeable future. He didn’t think how permanent that might be, not that he was able to think much at all after you’d walked out on him.

He figured you’d take a few days to settle with things, get comfortable with the idea of going public, and they’d move past the entire hypnosis thing with a chat and everything would be fine. Like it always was.

Three weeks without his love.

The one that he could tell was just a pretty little lost thing when you’d first arrived in the Pride ring, having teleported to the wrong ring and found yourself wandering the streets unsure of what to do with the turn of events while your energy was depleted, back when you were fresh to it all. Stunned by their appearance, Vox had nearly tripped over his own feet trying to rush over and introduce himself. Who the fuck knew there was a new Ars Goetia in Hell? This could make a good story, his station could be the first to break the news in all of Hell! A diamond in the rough that could be cultivated by his hand for his brand, all depending on if he played his cards right.

You’d been so, so sweet to him back then. So much, in fact, he’d forgotten all about his goal of making you a sensation and instead let you talk his ear off while the two of you walked to the V tower, Vox having extended his help after hearing your story for the reason of later redeeming a favor in exchange for your temporary stay, while you regained your energy. A multitude of possibilities crossed his mind as he walked alongside his new acquaintance.

He remember how you’d fluttered around the tower at first, trying to earn your stay by fumbling with the cleaning and keeping things tidy and in order when you could spot anything that wasn’t already pristine. Usually after one of Valentino’s tantrums, you’d be quick to sweep up the shattered glass from a bottle and have the spilled wine cleaned up before the demons assigned to it could even get the mop.

He’d admit, it felt nice having almost-royalty play housekeep to you after a long day of dealing with the Vee’s stressing him the hell out the entire day with their shenanigans. You’d do what you could while waiting for him to come home like a sweet thing so the two of you could continue your chat, and you could ask him how his day went and offer some insight about what to do when Velvette was seconds away from sparking another outrage with her commentary on an Overlord that would get their underlings all up in a frenzy.

Sometimes he’d take that advice, and be baffled when it actually worked out in his favor. When the agreed week and a half was up and you were ready to go, he’d asked you to stay on impulse after a particularly successful day, thanks to you. You’d asked if he was redeeming his favor, and he’d said he wasn’t but he’d make it worth your time if you just stayed a little longer. And he did, feeding you tidbits of the rings he knew about and who ruled over what territory in this ring, which you jotted down enthusiastically. Something about a mentor, who he’d later come to despise for wrenching you out of his hands for some stupid fucking trip to a ring where you’d stay for an extended amount of time and leave him pacing and yearning like a fool head over heels. Like one of those bitches on a leash being strung along helplessly, some simp in love that he certainly wasn’t.

Back then, when the third week had passed after he asked you to stay yet again, you’d said you really must be on your way before their mentor, Lucian, began to worry. He remembers the jolt of displeasure, the rising feeling of wanting to just reach out and drag you back into his office for a little longer so you could tell him all about whatever it is you were fixated on that day once more, filling his senses with nothing but your voice. So instead, he’d decided to redeem his favor for a date.

And what a fucking time he had. By the end of it, he was sure he NEEDED to have you either in his arms or his bed by the end of the night.

Neither had happened of course, because you’d excused yourself the moment the two of you were done at dinner to fix yourself up, and he remembers the odd feeling of anxiety that you’d come back and see right through his facade, and call him out on just how eager he was to have you around him for just a moment longer than he should. Instead, you two walked home together hand in hand with your quiet giggling and his quick remarks, and he watched you go back into the guest room with a dopey smile on his face, a lingering imprint of a lipstick stain on his screen.

It was a sweet dream come true.

And now, he’d finally woken up.

It was like the night after getting shit-faced or come down from a good high, the sudden awareness that you felt like shit and probably looked like shit too. It was bad when even Val came to him about it, asking where you’d gone and why the hell his screen was going through error after error whenever you were brought up, slow pixels overtaking his expression before he could force it back down.

Dealing with Valentino and Velvette was a headache, interviews and hosting his regular shows was a fucking drag and he’d put a bullet through his wires if he had to see another surveillance screen devoid of your presence. How the fuck were you avoiding all his cameras? What the hell were you doing, either holed up somewhere like a mole or were you flying above them? Were you still even in the ring? It boggled his brain and made his circuits itch, suddenly having you withheld from his reach after your time together. Did two years not mean shit anymore?

Being outed publicly to being with two notorious Overlords couldn’t be that bad, could it? There’s enough attention that comes with being an Ars Goetia anyways, whatever the hell was going on in high society. Whatever it is, his partner was off the fucking map and he was losing his shit.

What the fuck are you even supposed to do first? He’d done everything he could, reached out to every unfortunate soul under contract, had eyes and ears everywhere for even a sighting of an owl-like demon, but nothing ever came up. The facial recognition system never came up with anything when he was powered down and unable to stare at the multitude of screens for a passing glimpse of the one he’d called his for the last two years.

It only bit him in the ass now to have asked so little about their mentor. All he had was a name, absolutely nothing else. Was he an Ars Goetia as well, or hired by one to guide you? What ring was he in? What did he do when you were gone? Where did he come from, where did he stay?

In a way, he liked having you all to himself.

He realized far too late he didn’t like sharing. It grated his nerves to hear you being brought up across the airwaves, even if he was the one who pushed you out into the light as his own, the commentary and speculation’s made him want to claw everything in sight when they’d gotten something wrong or a little too right. He didn’t want to hear about the person that you spent so much time with, the one that he’d never met but knew would take away the one thing he held so tightly at night, claws digging into your sides with arms wrapped crushingly around you before you’d make a small noise of complaint and he’d force himself to ease up or risk waking you fully. He hardly ever powered down at night when the two of you were new to your relationship, instead choosing to run out of battery in the middle of the day rather than miss a moment of his one and only in blissful slumber after helping to preen your feathers for the night.

He’d fucked himself over, giving you a name for yourself and having that be the thing that tore you from his grasp. He’d always known where you were, where you’d be, where you’d go, when you’d be home, all the time as if on schedule. Suddenly having you so far, it reminded him of the times you’d be away on those trips of yours , still full of anticipation he’d see them again soon.

As more weeks passed by, he was sure it was over.

And what could he do with that?

Swallowing thickly, he’d reclined in his seat in front of the wall of monitors. He’d sent out a last ditch request and had his underlings scope out anyone by the name of Lucian that belonged to the high society of Hell in this ring currently. The result? This Lucian must be a goddamn hermit, or you had been lying to him.

That was out of the question. You had never lied to him before, you’d never had a reason to, he made sure of that. So this Lucian must be with you, if he had to guess, the one keeping you under wraps. Or worse, taken advantage of his love in this delicate time and kept you for his own like he’s real fucking sure he’d wantedtodoallalon—

He sat there and let out a long sigh.

Every time he thought about you, he only wishes you’d just turned to look at him when he’d turned on that hypnotic swirl on his screen a second time as you were walking out of his life.

He could have sat you down and they could have talked about things. He could have forced himself to apologize when he turned off the hypnosis after making sure they weren’t going to leave him right then and there. They could still be together, if you’d just looked at him.

When did you stop doing that?

Was it all really just because of the announcement?

He couldn’t help but think maybe you’d wanted to leave him. How else could it have been so easy to disappear out of his life like this? Did you have a plan, or force yourself to figure it out when he’d made them lose their will?

He silently cursed at himself, the least he could have done was take down that stupid fucking broadcast that ruined everything for him. A simple broadcast or you. He’d never weighed it against each other, never believing you leaving was ever in the question.

They’d hardly ever argue, you and him had an understanding about each other, or so he had thought you two did. He thinks he could have changed if you’d asked him, but he knows he wasn’t listening to you that day, too amped up on the elation of Hell finally knowing he’d managed to snag an Ars Goetia for himself, one that wasn’t like the rest of these pricks that tried to undermine everything he’d built at every turn the second they could. One that never made him think he could lose it all with one misstep, until he did.

He’s sure he could make things right if he saw you again. Mend what he broke so carelessly in his excitement.

You’d come back to him, or he’d find you. It was only a matter of time. And when that time came…

He could tell you all about this period of his life when he reunited with you, like talking about a bad dream when you were back into the safety of someone’s arms, all warm and content, basking in your presence and the scent of your skin.

So he’d wait.

And look at these feeds without wavering until he saw the familiar sight of your feathery figure again.

Till death do the two of you part, and you both are already dead, so where did you think you were going?

The sound of an alert hits his screen and he jolts up, eyes wide as his screen hones on on a figure, the facial recognition system having zoomed in on the one he had been desperately waiting to see all these weeks.

There you were.