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#sorry it wasn't more angsty lol
nextinline-if · 2 years
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The ask about breaking up with MC is too good 👀 Dear author, I have a sad question-scenario in mind, but don't feel pressured to comply please!! I was thinking about "what if MC, like in sad fairytales, dies/or dyING from heartbreak? And the rumors about 'Hearbroken Harbinger' spread away even to the ROs", what would be their reactions to this, then? (Maybe in case of C he survived or something, so he could heard abt rumors)
you're so sweet, don't worry I love all of your asks and am happy to comply lol
but your ask kind of reminded me of how originally there would be an ending where the RO dies sacrificing themself for MC but I changed it, lucky for you 😇 anyway, your lil heartbroken harbinger reaction is below anon
F: They freeze when they see a letter from Castelon. With shaking fingers, they open it reveal a message from Anna. F's throat constricts as they draw in ragged breaths. You're gone. They know in their heart that it would have been better for you to have never meet them - to have never loved them. F is inconsolable, spending their days writing drunk poetry.
Felix: Felix is drinking in a tavern drowning his aching heart when he hears the rumor about you.
"Letum has accepted the Heartbroken Harbinger into Avernus."
His jaw goes slack as his white knuckles grip the mug.
It's just a rumor, he thinks to himself. They're fine. Better off without me.
But he downs the rest of his beer and rushes toward the capital.
Constantine: Constantine survived an impossible mission, although most of his team perished. And the only thought that gave him sustenance was you.
Of the way you'd embrace him. Of how he'd never leave you again.
But when he reaches the capital, his horse is half-dead so he stops to give it a chance to relax.
And that's when he learns from whispers of how you died of a broken heart. Only days before.
He falls to his knees, tears falling from his eyes. He's frozen like that for hours until someone grips his shoulder.
James.
Your twin's eyes tell him everything he needs to know.
Margaret: Margaret had just gotten off her father's ship after months in Arandale when she a messenger from Queen tells her that you died of a broken heart. A heart that she broke.
It hurt being without you. Without your love. But she could carry on knowing you were out there.
But now? Everything is dark and she feels fear for the first time.
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sunsburns · 3 months
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kiss of life (ii.)
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pairing: luke castellan x aphrodite!daughter reader
part one
summary: i actually suck at writing summaries but basically this is part two of part one of that soulmate au fic i posted a week ago lol
—or: luke castellan is being haunted by kronos and... well, you.
word count: 6.42k
warnings: sorry for any spelling errors, i haven’t checked yet, suppperrr angsty, luke castellan pov as he's slowly being corrupted by kronos, long reading time, descriptive injuries, blood, pre-tlt, luke is stubborn and a dick, loser!luke, annabeth smacking some sense to luke, grover being an icon, reader is lowkey unreliable tbh... cliff hanger (again... lmfao sorry)
a/n: part two!!! thank you guys for all the love on the first part! i am so grateful for everything and i love reading all the comments and reblogs. i hope this one doesn't end up flopping lmfaooo. i honestly wanted this to be a short angsty fic but i got carried away and now i'm planning a whole multi-part fic for this, phew. anyways enjoyyy <;33
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At eighteen, Luke was cursed with nightmares. 
They clawed at the edges of his mind, threatening to unravel the fragile front of peace that he had fought so hard to maintain. Each night, he would awaken drenched in a cold sweat, the echoes of his tortured dreams lingering in the corners of his mind like a haunting melody.
The Hermes cabin, once a sanctuary from the outside world, now felt like a prison, its walls closing in around him with each passing moment. The moon, a silent witness to his torment, cast its ethereal glow through the window, illuminating the slumbering forms of campers. Some were children of Hermes, like himself, bound by the tenuous ties of blood and kinship. Others, however, were unclaimed, their parentage shrouded in mystery and uncertainty.
And as Luke lay awake in the stillness of the night, a sense of loneliness washed over him like a tidal wave, drowning him in a sea of doubt. In the depths of his troubled sleep, he could feel the tendrils of darkness closing in around him, threatening to consume him whole. And try as he might to deny it, he knew that his nightmares held a deeper significance, a harbinger of events yet to unfold in the shadowy pits of fate.
His nightmares were callings. A taunting voice would echo through the corridors of his mind, its insidious whispers weaving a thought of deceit and manipulation. It masqueraded as a voice of reason, a beacon beckoning him towards a destiny that promised demigods everything.
At first, Luke dismissed it as nothing more than the ramblings of a tortured soul, the byproduct of his own restlessness. But as the whispers grew louder and more insistent, he could no longer ignore the chilling realization that they were something far more sinister—a call to arms, a summons to embrace his role as a harbinger of the new world.
The nights he wasn't shaking from night terrors, he was tossing and turning at the thought of you. And he didn’t know what was worse. He couldn't escape you. The haunting image of you lingered in his mind even during sleep — your lips, your eyes, your skin, your voice, and that shared scar and your demise.
But at least, you'd given up on him by then. Your persistent efforts to reach out to Luke gradually dwindled into nothingness. Though you were still everywhere, a shadow that seemed to torment his every move, you no longer gave him even a fraction of your attention.
Gone were the days of you seeking him out, your footsteps no longer echoing in the halls of Camp Half-Blood in search of him. You refrained from asking for Chris's help, no longer burdening him with questions on Luke's whereabouts. The notes you once left behind were now relics of a time long past, their words fading with each passing day.
And as the full moon rose once more over the waters of the lake, you no longer waited by its shores.
Luke turned in bed, his mind restless as he tried to shake the image of you. He pulled the covers tighter around himself, seeking comfort in the warmth they provided, but the chill of unease still lingered in the air.
His gaze drifted across the row of beds, each a testament to the diverse personalities that inhabited the Hermes cabin. The floor was strewn with a chaotic array of sleeping bags, toys, and discarded clothing, while a collection of rocks adorned one corner near the closets, and drawings adorned the walls.
Despite the usual chaos that reigned during the day, the cabin now lay quiet and still. The children of Hermes, along with the unclaimed children and the ones of minor gods, had finally settled into the embrace of sleep. 
But amidst the calm, a sense of unease gnawed at Luke's consciousness. He couldn't shake the feeling that had settled over him after he noticed the empty bed and the slightly ajar door. 
Luke pushed back the covers and rose from his bed. His footsteps echoed softly as he made his way toward the empty bottom bunk, hoping not to wake anyone. The sight of an old penguin stuffed animal discarded at the foot of the bed made him edgy. His eyes trailed to the traces of blood splattered on the hardwood floor, stark against the dim light filtering through the cabin windows.
With a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, Luke picked up the toy, its soft white and black material now stained with crimson. Clutching it tightly in his hand, he made his way out of the cabin, the urgency of his steps echoing in the stillness of the night.
He knew all too well who the missing camper was – five-year-old Penelope, one of the newest arrivals to Camp Half-Blood and possibly one of the youngest campers. Found wandering alone in the woods near the camp hill just a week ago, she had been brought to safety by a group of fellow demigods on a quest. Luke couldn't shake the resemblance she bore to a younger Annabeth, with her wide eyes and insatiable thirst for knowledge. He wouldn't be surprised if Athena claimed her as her own one day–that is if he ever found her.
Luke's worry for Penelope weighed heavily on his mind, a knot of anxiety tightening in his chest as he combed through every inch of camp. The traces of blood he discovered fueled his unease, each droplet a stark reminder of the dangers lurking just beyond the safety of the camp's borders.
In his search, Luke traversed familiar paths and hidden corners, his footsteps echoing in the quiet stillness of the night. He scoured the armour, the climbing wall, and the camp store.
Luke had known all about campers disappearing, whether it be on a quest or to escape and try to live a normal life with humans that never really lasted long enough as monsters would dwell within the shadows outside of camp. 
It was in the dim glow of the kitchen lights that Luke finally caught a glimpse of Penelope, perched on the counter in her pyjamas, her hair adorned with two loose pigtails. A sense of relief washed over him at the sight of her safe and sound, yet it was short-lived as he noticed she wasn't alone.
His hand hovered over the door, hesitating as he listened to the soft murmur of conversation from within. With a steady breath, Luke pushed the door open ever so slightly, peering through the crack to catch a glimpse of Penelope. And you.
You, who looked older than when you first met in the infirmary. There was an air of maturity about you, a gracefulness that hadn't been there before. Your features seemed more refined, your presence commanding attention in a way that spoke of inner strength and resilience. Luke couldn't help but notice how your beauty had blossomed, surpassing the standards of mere mortal allure. It was a beauty that seemed to defy classification, uniquely yours yet undeniably captivating.
Despite this, Luke sensed a shift in your demeanour—a resignation, perhaps, to the reality of his ignorance. You had lost any hope you once harboured for him. His guarded nature would forever keep you at arm's length. And while part of him knew that this was for the best, a small, almost imperceptible part of him couldn't help but feel a twinge of regret.
For in the crossroads of his heart, amidst the shadows that threatened to consume him, there lingered a faint glimmer of longing. The thought of being intertwined with someone who could offer solace in his darkest moments, who could bring light to the depths of his despair, held an undeniable appeal. And as much as he tried to deny it, the chance of you approaching him once more tugged at the fringes of his resolve, tempting him to let down his guard and allow you closer than he ever dared to imagine.
"So, you wanna tell me what you're doing up this late?" You approached Penelope with a gentle smile, a cookie in your hand as a peace offering. 
Your words hung in the air, gentle and coaxing, as you tried to draw Penelope out of her shell. Luke watched from the shadows, his gaze flickering between you and the young camper, a sense of admiration stirring at how you spoke to Penelope.
Penelope hesitated, her gaze shifting between the cookie in her hand and you. 
"You don't know?" You persisted, your voice a soft murmur that carried a hint of playfulness. You settled beside Penelope on the counter, your posture was relaxed as you leaned in closer to her. "Is it... a secret?" you whispered.
Luke noted the subtle change in your demeanour, the way you seemed to adapt effortlessly to Penelope's shy nature. It was a side of you he hadn't seen before, one that resonated deeply with him.
As Penelope nodded in response to your question, you continued, your tone gentle and reassuring. "Let me tell you a secret," you offered, holding up your pinky finger as a symbol of trust. "I am the best secret keeper in this camp. I pinky promise."
After a moment's hesitation, Penelope tentatively reached out, her tiny finger linking with yours in a hesitant pinky promise. A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips.
Penelope murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "I got hurt."
"What?" You gasped in genuine concern, your eyes widening as you shifted your attention to the young camper. "Can I see?"
Penelope nodded silently, her arm outstretched towards you. Luke observed from his vantage point, his heart twisting with worry as he noted the faint hint of red near Penelope's elbow.
You took Penelope's arm into your hands gently, your touch tender and reassuring as you rolled up the sleeves of her pale pink pyjamas. Luke couldn't help but notice the familiarity of those pyjamas, a subtle reminder of Annabeth's kindness and resourcefulness in making Penelope feel at home.
"Oh, wow, that looks like it hurts," You remarked softly, your brows furrowing in sympathy as you retrieved a first aid kit from the nearby cabinets. "You're handling it very well," you praised Penelope, your tone gentle and encouraging. "So brave of you."
Penelope watched you attentively as you began to clean her wound, her small frame tense with discomfort. "I don't feel brave," she admitted quietly.
"No?" You glanced up at her, "why not?"
"I miss my mommy."
Her words were tinged with a sense of longing that struck a chord with both you and Luke.
Luke chewed on the inside of his cheek, his thoughts drifting to his own longing for his mother. Penelope's admission resonated with him deeply, reminding him of the ache that never truly faded, no matter how many years passed, no matter how deep he tried to bury it. 
It was a sentiment shared by every demigod at camp, a silent ache that echoed through the cabins and training grounds. Yet, it was a pain rarely spoken aloud as if verbalizing it would make it all too real, too unbearable.
The yearning for a parent, for someone to fill the void left by their absence, weighed heavily on each camper's shoulders. It was a burden they carried silently, masking their vulnerability with bravado and determination. But for Penelope, the longing was raw in its innocence.
At just five years old, she was too young to fully comprehend the extent of her emotions. She couldn't grasp the complexities of her situation, the world of gods and monsters that surrounded her. All she knew was the absence of a mother's embrace, the absence of a comforting presence to soothe her fears and wipe away her tears.
It was a pain she didn't deserve, a burden too heavy for such a young soul to bear. The gods, in their arrogance and indifference, seemed oblivious to the lives they had shattered, and the pain they had inflicted upon their own children.
"Yeah?" You responded gently, "How much do you miss her?"
"This much," Penelope replied, her small hands spreading wide.
"Wow! That's a lot," you remarked, a sombre note underlying your tone as you processed Penelope's words. After a beat of silence, you shook off the heaviness of the moment and mustered a smile for her. "There we go. All cleaned up," you announced cheerfully, pressing a bandaid onto her elbow.
Penelope's smile widened in response, a glimmer of gratitude shining in her eyes as she kicked her feet. In a quiet voice barely above a whisper, she murmured her thanks to you.
"So, you wanna tell me how you got hurt?"
"I don't know." This had been the most Luke had ever seen Penelope talk, and while her voice was still timid, the words slipping out hesitantly, she seemed to confide in you. "I woke up because my arm hurt."
"The cut was just there?" You asked, and when she nodded, you hummed sympathetically. "...I get those too, you know."
Penelope's eyes widened, "You do?"
"Yes," you affirmed with a soft chuckle. "A lot of people do. You get them from your soulmate. Did your mom ever tell you about soulmates?"
"Sometimes."
"Well, a long time ago, humans used to have four arms, four legs, and two faces," You explained.
"What?"
"I know, right? Super freaky. So freaky that Zeus decided to split them in half. So, now we have two arms, two legs, and one face."
"What happened to the other half?"
"That's our soulmate. Our other half. And Aphrodite gave us a gift to help us find our soulmate." The smile that had adorned your face slowly waned, "Every time you get hurt, your soulmate gets hurt too."
"Is that why you have a cut on your face?"
The question lingered, hanging in the air like a whispered secret. Luke held his breath, his gaze fixed on you, waiting for your response. But instead of answering, you reached out to Penelope, a bittersweet smile gracing your lips as you guided her off the counter.
"Let's get you back to your cabin."
Your words were gentle, a soft reassurance for Penelope's sake, but Luke could sense the undercurrent of sadness that ran beneath them. As you led Penelope away, Luke's heart ached in a way that felt so familiar yet foreign at the same time. It burned the same way it did when he returned from the quest when he hated the world and everyone in it, but this time, the only person he could find himself hating was himself.
He retreated from the door, clutching the stuffed animal in his hands. He felt a fleeting reminder of the times he would hide from the monsters with Thalia.
Luke's mind swirled with discordant emotions, each thought a whirlwind of uncertainty. He knew he didn't deserve your answer, didn't deserve the solace of your words. He had made it clear too many times to count that he never wanted a soulmate, never wanted you.
But despite his protests, despite the walls he had built around his heart, Luke couldn't deny the tug that pulled him to you, the hunger in his soul that refused to be ignored. It was a longing he couldn't shake, a yearning that whispered of a connection he dared not embrace. Knowing that keeping you away was the only way to protect you from the darkness that lurked within him was what kept him sane.
"Luke?"
The sound of his name tore Luke out of his thoughts like a violent gust of wind. He spun around, finding you standing on the porch to the kitchens, Penelope at your side. She held your hand, a small beacon of warmth and light in the dimness of the night. 
It seemed too perfect, too surreal, and Luke couldn't help but feel a pang of disbelief. Were you trying to kill him? It had been too long since the last time he spoke to you, let alone stood so close to you, and here you were, the epitome of what a demigod should be, even if you were still in the dreaded bright orange camp shirt.
"Hey," he managed to say.
You continued to descend the stairs, each step cautious and deliberate. "What- uh, what are you doing up?"
"I was actually looking for Penelope." Luke motioned to the girl hiding behind your legs. When he caught her eye, Penelope grinned and let go of your hand, darting over to Luke and jumping into his arms. He lifted her easily, a small smile tugging at his lips as he handed her the stuffed toy she had left behind. 
"Oh." You hummed, "I didn't know you're a Hermes kid?"
"I'm unclaimed," Penelope chimed.
"For now," Luke's voice was gentle as he held Penelope in his arms. "And what were you doing up?"
"I was looking for a bandaid. I got lost." Penelope's words were punctuated by a soft yawn, and she nestled her head against Luke's shoulder, her exhaustion evident in every movement.
You hesitated, your gaze shifting to meet Luke's. "I found her by the canoes... near the dock."
The silence that settled between you felt heavy, suffocating almost as if it threatened to engulf you both. Luke found himself wandering back to the memories of you waiting for him at the dock during the summer nights and the regret that weighed heavily on his heart for never approaching you. He remembered the countless times he stood among the trees, watching you from afar, paralyzed by his own insecurities and fears.
Were you waiting for him there tonight? 
No, you couldn't have.
Guilt gnawed at him, threatening to consume him whole. "Listen, I-"
"I'm gonna go." You cut him off abruptly, your voice carrying a hint of tension. "Counsellor duties and all. I've got cabin checks in the morning so... you know, I gotta print papers... and stuff..."
Luke frowned at your lame excuse. "It's midnight."
"It's never too early to start now." You huffed defensively. "Bye, Penelope."
"Bye," Penelope mumbled sleepily, her hand lazily waving in your direction as you walked away, disappearing into the darkness of the night and the trail leading to the Aphrodite cabin.
As they made their way back to the Hermes cabin, Luke held onto Penelope tightly, feeling the weight of her small body in his arms. The night air was cool against his skin, and he couldn't help but feel a pang of shame for the unease he noticed in you earlier. He wanted to say something, to bridge the gap that seemed to have formed between you, but the words remained trapped in his throat.
Once they returned to the warmth of their cabin, Luke moved with a careful grace, mindful not to disturb the sleeping campers around them. He gently placed Penelope back on her bed and tucked her in. But as he began to step away, her small hand shot out, wrapping around two of his fingers. Luke froze, eyes wide with surprise.
"Luke?" Penelope's voice was barely above a whisper, but it cut through the silence of the cabin like a knife.
"Yeah?" Luke's voice was equally quiet.
"I think your soulmate is really cool." 
Penelope's words hung in the air, a simple statement that carried more weight than he could have ever anticipated.
Seven hours later, the memory of your face lingered in Luke's mind like an unshakeable ghost. Tossing back and forth in his bed, he tried to rid himself of the image, but it clung to him like a shadow. Each time he closed his eyes, your face flashed before him, haunting his thoughts. Even when he turned away, the spectre of Kronos lurked in the depths of his subconscious, a reminder of the choice that still loomed over him.
As morning broke over Camp Half-Blood, Luke found himself seated at the breakfast table, surrounded by the hustle and bustle of his fellow campers. Annabeth's presence brought a brief distraction.
She slid into the seat in front of him during breakfast and gave him a strange look, slightly out of breath from the morning rush, a half-eaten apple in hand.
"Hey," she greeted him, her voice carrying a note of concern. Pausing to tie back her braids, she studied him intently. "Who you looking for?"
Luke's response came too quickly, "No one," he replied, his voice strained. Thankfully, Chris had left earlier because he was in charge of the climbing wall in the morning, he wasn't there to tell Annabeth that Luke had been looking for you. His eyes scanned the sea of faces in the dining hall, a futile attempt to catch sight of you amidst the crowd. He felt pathetic. "What's up with you?"
Annabeth raised her brows. "Archery? Together? Remember? Or did you forget?"
"No. I didn't forget."
She only stared at him, skeptical.
"What?" he asked, "why do you keep looking at me like that?"
"Oh, I get it," Annabeth's smirk hinted at a newfound understanding, her eyes sparkling with amusement. She let out a laugh, the sound echoing through the dining hall, as she shook her head and rested her chin on her hand. "How long are you planning to keep this up for?"
Luke frowned, confused.
"This entire act you have with... you know," She didn't need to say your name for him to catch on. "It's getting out of hand, no?"
"I..." Caught off guard by her directness, Luke hesitated, unsure of how to respond. Choosing to play dumb, he feigned innocence. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Right." Annabeth's knowing look pierced through his facade. She was always too perceptive for her own good. Fixing him with a narrowed gaze, she gave him a playful kick under the table, the impact enough to draw a startled reaction from Luke. With a mischievous glint in her eyes, she took another bite of her apple before teasing him further. "Well, Grover said you're killing yourself."
"What?" He blinked at her, taken aback, "I'm not killing myself. Grover's just being dramatic."
"I don't think so." She said, slowly, carefully forming her words. "I mean, if I had a soulmate..."
Luke's defences bristled at the mention of soulmates, a topic he preferred to avoid. "Is this all you wanted to talk about?" 
"I'm allowed to worry, "Annabeth reminded him, her words tinged with a gentle insistence. "Family, remember?"
The word 'family' carried weight, a reminder of their shared history and the bond they had forged over the years. It was a phrase Annabeth often employed to coax Luke out of his shell, to encourage him to confide in her. When they were younger, 'family' meant everything to Luke, thanks in no small part to Annabeth's influence.
"You don't need to worry," Luke assured her, though uncertainty gnawed at the edges of his resolve. "I know what I'm doing." But did he? Luke longed for the simplicity of a time before he met you when the idea of having a soulmate seemed like a distant fantasy. Now, every decision he made, every scar he bore, carried weight, knowing it could impact you in ways he couldn't comprehend.
"The least you can do is get to know her before she leaves."
Her words struck a chord within him, prompting Luke to cast a discreet glance around the dining hall, searching for you amidst the bustling crowd again.
"She's leaving?"
"Not forever, "Annabeth clarified with a chuckle, "Just on a quest. Search and rescue. Nothing fancy."
"...How do you know this?" he said after a moment.
"Chiron told me," Annabeth shrugged nonchalantly. "He also told me to tell you that the ceremony is tonight. I hope that doesn't kill you."
It did kill him a bit. At least, it felt like it did. Luke Castellan moved through camp with a sense of urgency, his strides purposeful yet tinged with a hint of apprehension. His fingers, calloused from years of wielding weapons, throbbed with a dull ache with the burn from the bow and arrow. 
Shoulders tense, skin prickling under the relentless glare of the sun, he scanned the bustling campgrounds.
The weight of his bow rested heavily on his shoulder, the familiar weight offering a semblance of comfort amidst the chaos. With practiced precision, he counted the arrows in his quiver, his movements fluid and sure. 
Then, he heard it—the sound that drew him like a siren's call. Your voice, lilting and laughter-filled, cut through the clamour of the camp, pulling him toward you like a magnet. There you stood, leaning against the doorway of the Hephaestus cabin, a clipboard clutched to your chest as you exchanged banter with Atticus, the skilled swordsmith whose craftsmanship had forged Luke's sword.
There was something different about you today, something delicate, more approachable than he had ever seen before. Last night, with Penelope, you had worn a similar expression—gentle, caring—but it was a side of you that Luke had never been privileged to witness. With him, you had always been guarded, reserved, as though afraid that he would cut or maim you.
As you scribbled something onto your clipboard, Luke found himself intrigued by the way your smile softened. It was a stark contrast to the confident facade you often wore, and for a moment, Luke felt a pang of guilt for pushing you away so soon.
Unbeknownst to you, you were drawing closer to Luke with each step, your path inexorably leading you toward him. Part of him craved to reach out, while another part hesitated, unsure of how to talk to you after all this time.
"Hey," Luke finally managed to utter as you drew near, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
You paused, a hint of surprise flickering across your features as you registered his presence. "Hi?" Your response was tentative, laced with a hint of confusion. After a moment's hesitation, you glanced down at your clipboard, "I'm not changing my rank on your cabin. I know three is low, but I was being generous."
A ghost of a smile tugged at Luke's lips. He was all too familiar with the chaotic nature of Cabin Eleven, where overcrowding was the norm and taking turns on the sleeping bags was treated as a game. "No, no. I just..." He trailed off, suddenly realizing he hadn't thought through the purpose of seeking you out. "I think we need to talk."
The confusion in your expression mirrored his own, and for a moment, there was a palpable sense of uncertainty hanging between you. "Talk?" you echoed.
Luke nodded, his gaze meeting yours earnestly. "Yes."
"You want to talk...? To me?" 
"I hope it's not that bizzare."
He tried to smile for you, but it felt wrong. Luke couldn't shake the weight of unease that settled in the pit of his stomach. He knew all too well that he hadn't been the embodiment of an ideal soulmate. In his mind, there lingered a pervasive belief that you harboured nothing but hatred towards him, something that you made obvious with every interaction between you two.
He wondered if this was the way you felt during the days he avoided you. 
Luke had noticed the shift. There was a calculated recklessness to your actions, a deliberate disregard for your own well-being that bordered on self-destructive. You stubbed your toe on roots and table legs, tugged too hard at your hair, and scraped your knees. You started to pull your punches while sparring with Clarisse, just enough to ensure that he felt the sting of every blow. You never blocked a hit in the face, a twisted satisfaction in the knowledge that your pain mirrored his own. Together, you would limp into the infirmary, bloodied and bruised where you'd be grinning far too wide, barely offering an ounce of guilt when Luke held ice to his face.
You lowered the clipboard from your chest, letting it rest against your side as you faced Luke. The warm rays of the sun filtered through the dense foliage above, casting dappled shadows that danced across your features and forced you to squint against the brightness. The noise of children's laughter and the sound of feet pounding against the earth filled the air.
Your voice cut through the noise, "You've made it pretty clear that you want nothing to do with me, Luke," you began, your words carrying the weight of unspoken hurt. "You can't blame me for being surprised."
As you began to walk toward the next cabin, Luke fell into step beside you, "Can you just give me a chance—" 
"I think you're too late for that."
"I know, I just—" Luke's words faltered, his thoughts tumbling over one another in a desperate attempt to articulate his feelings.
"I have nothing to say to you," you declared abruptly, stopping in your tracks and turning to face him. Luke skidded to a stop just in time, his gaze meeting yours as you regarded him with a mixture of sadness and frustration. "Seriously. I understand, okay? Did I come on too strong? Maybe. Yeah, I'll admit that" you acknowledged, your expression softening slightly. "Maybe coming to you hours after your shit quest was stupid, but I gave you space when you asked—"
"I just wanted to wish you luck on your quest," Luke interrupted, his voice gentle yet tinged with a hint of remorse.
With a quiet "Oh," you stepped back, your eyes momentarily averting his gaze. Were you embarrassed? Were you disappointed? Did you want to fight? 
"Sorry," you mumbled, your voice tinged with uncertainty. "Thanks. I'm, uh, I'm seeing the Oracle after this. So... not technically a quest yet."
"It's your first one, right?" Luke's voice softened, an unspoken understanding passing between them.
"If you're worried about getting another scar, don't worry, I doubt it's anything dangerous," you reassured him, though your words held a hint of hesitation. There was a fleeting moment where your gaze lingered on him as if expecting a sudden change in his demeanour, but Luke remained still, his expression unreadable. "I just need to find Eros and go from there."
"Eros?" Luke's pace slowed, curiosity dancing in his eyes as he raised his brows in interest. Yet beneath the surface, a seed of annoyance sprouted, tendrils of jealousy winding their way through his thoughts. Your quest sounded far more intriguing than his own, and a bitter brew of envy churned in the depths of his stomach. Despite his inner turmoil, he attempted to play it off with a forced chuckle. "Has Cupid gone missing?"
"Apparently," you muttered bitterly under your breath, the resentment palpable in your tone. Luke sensed the edge to your words, though he pretended not to notice.
You sighed, "Is this conversation going anywhere? I really need to finish these cabin checks. I'm busy enough as it is."
Your words held an unspoken plea for him to leave, and though Luke understood, a pang of disappointment nagged at him. He couldn't entirely blame you; after all, he'd been an ass for months.
Both of you hesitated just outside the door to cabin eight, and Luke could feel your eyes on him. When you began to step away, his hand shot out, wrapping around your wrist. You froze, eyes wide with surprise.
“I also wanted to thank you,” He said, words rushing off his tongue.
“For what?” you asked.
“For last night.” He wasn't sure why he brought it up, why he felt like he needed you to know. "With Penelope."
"It was nothing," you said, voice barely audible. "We gotta look out for each other, right?"
Then, you left, you hurried up the short staircase to the cabin door, barely sparing him a glance before knocking. From his place, Luke could hear someone welcoming you into Artemis's cabin. He watched you until the door was shut behind you, vanishing you from his sight.
As the ceremony approached, the hues of twilight painted Camp Half-Blood in a golden glow, a serene yet foreboding atmosphere enveloping the surroundings. Luke's unease mounted with the setting sun, casting stretched-out shadows that seemed to carry something unnoticed. He couldn't shake the image of the figure from his nightmares, its monstrous visage haunting his thoughts with each passing moment. Yet, amidst the creeping darkness, there was an allure to the unknown, a temptation that beckoned him; its words, its promise of seeing the truth.
His gaze remained fixed on the white marble archway, half-expecting the nightmare to materialize at any moment, its twisted form emerging from the shadows with outstretched fingers. However, it was you who appeared, ascending the steps with graceful determination. Your presence seemed to dispel the shadows, bathing the surroundings in a radiant glow that eclipsed the fears that had once gripped Luke's heart. You were a blinding vice.
"Didn't think I'd see you here."
A sudden jab to his side sent him recoiling, a sharp pain shooting through his ribs. Luke winced, his gaze flickering to you as you flinched, subtly reaching for your own side. Quickly diverting his attention, he focused on the girl who had spoken.
Clarisse arched a brow at Luke, a smirk dancing on her lips. "Jumpy."
"Give him a break," Chris interjected, joining Luke's side and draping an arm over his shoulder. "Luke had a rough night, he lost a kid."
"Is that so?" Clarisse's grin widened. "And Chiron doesn't know? I'm assuming he doesn't otherwise, he wouldn't have picked you for this."
Luke scoffed and crossed his arms, "I'm the best swordsman at camp."
Clarisse's sarcasm was palpable. "Oh, I don't doubt it. The most humble, too," she retorted, unfazed by his glare. "But let's face it, a search and rescue isn't exaclty your thing anymore. You're more of an action kind of guy. You live off the glory of victory. Chiron knows that."
She was right, Chiron did know that. Which was why he rarely requested Luke to stand in unless there was a catch. Then, the flames in the torches flickered to life, and silence enveloped the candidates. Each demigod chosen by Chiron swiftly took their place, standing tall and resolute by a marble pillar, eager to showcase themselves as the prime choice for the quest. Anything for Kleos. Anything for glory.
Chiron nodded, his gesture sharp and decisive, as he placed a firm hand on your shoulder before addressing the assembly. 
"The Oracle has confirmed that this quest is a search and rescue," he stated, casting a brief, confident glance in your direction. "One where you will use all your best efforts to bring Eros back to the safety of Mount Olympus and restore the lost balance. I'm sure you know where to find him." His gaze then shifted to the rest of the candidates. "Here, I have selected some of our most compelling candidates from which you will choose one to join you on your quest, ensuring your success. Annabeth Chase, Atticus Brang, Chris Rodrigues, Clarisse La-"
As Chiron listed the candidates, you carefully evaluated your options, your eyes calculating. In the dim torchlight, Luke could just discern the thin line etched across your face, stretching from the end of your brow to your-
"I choose Luke."
The ensuing silence felt like something they could all drown in, leaving everyone stunned. Even Annabeth raised her eyebrows in surprise, though there was a glint of amusement in her eyes as she spotted Luke's bewilderment. Surely, he must have misheard. There couldn't possibly be any way you had chosen him, could there?
Chiron turned to you, his tone measured. "Are you sure?"
You never shifted your gaze from Luke, who refused to meet your eyes as he stared fixedly at the pillar across from him. Yet, the clenching of his jaw, whether from anger or annoyance or something else, was enough to elicit a satisfied smile from you.
"I'm sure," you affirmed.
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shoyudon · 2 days
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𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑, 𝐈 𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 .ᐟ
them forgetting a date night.
starring. gojo, sukuna, toji x fem! reader
heads up. cursing, no fluff, sukuna can use a phone (bcs u taught him lol /j), sukuna calling u "woman"
note. haiii, how are you guys doing? make sure to take care of yourself!! i'm feeling a bit angsty today, so i'm gonna write a bit of angst. i miss gojo, like so much u guys :( i might make a part two for this btw hehe
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──────〃★ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔
the one thing you hated more than people being late was people who don't keep their promises — your boyfriend wasn't an exception to it. gojo's a busy man, you get it. for months you haven't been able to see him because he was so caught up in the jujutsu world; he saves people dan and night from lingering curses that it broke you a bit.
the jujutsu world treats him like a weapon; and you never liked it. despite your constant battering on him, trying to get him to quit and just settled in for a quiet life, he tells you that he can't. that people needed him, and you felt selfish.
but isn't it fine to be selfish sometimes?
clutching onto your phone, you'd tried dialing gojo's number at least six times before he answers. his voice groggy and slow, as if he had just woken up from a deep sleep, "huh . . . hello?"
you wanted to yell at him, especially because he was the one who has been reminding you about this particular date night — and he was the one to forget about it, "good sleep?" you ended up asking him, voice hard.
"y/n . . . why did you—"
"why did i call? oh, i don't know. maybe because my boyfriend stood me up for an hour and a half. i look like an idiot sitting here, satoru," you mutter out in embarrassment, avoiding the lingering gazes from both waiters and waitresses around you.
for the past hour, you've lost count of how many times you'd ask them to refill your glass of tea — embarrassing. then telling them you were waiting for someone when they tried to ask you if you were going to order anything since there were people waiting for a table, just for the said person not showing up.
"what time is— oh, fuck. baby, i'm so sorry, i fell asleep when i was work—"
before he could finish his words, you finished it for him, "working. i get it, you're always working. clearly, you don't have time for anything else, right?" you ask him, signaling the waiter nearby for the bill.
"baby, i know. i'm so sorry, i'm on my way, okay? please," he whispers. you could hear a few shuffling on the background; along with a few curses he muttered under his breath as he stumble over his feet, mind hazy from all the sudden movements he was doing despite just waking up.
"no need. i'm leaving the place," you mutter, walking out of the restaurant — heels clacking on the pavement, "and 'm leaving you, because clearly you're not ready for a relationship, so bye."
gojo yells out, "what? no, baby. i swear — i'll make it up to you, please. don't leave me . . ." he rambled on the same words over and over again, "where are you? i'm picking you up. please, can we talk about this? i'm sorry, i know i should've—"
"bye, satoru," and with that you ended the call.
──────〃★ 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍
you fiddled the hem of your dress as you sat inside the almost closed restaurant, the last speck of hope you had on your boyfriend —sukuna— dissipating into hopelessness. standing up you walked over to the cashier, taking out your card to pay for the one glass of shrimp cocktail and one glass of white wine.
the cashier shot you a sympathetic look, and you didn't dare to look her into her eyes. face hard from embarrassment and shame, "thank you for coming, come again next time, ma'am . . ." she bids you goodbye as she returns your card.
walking out of the restaurant that now had the 'closed' sign flipped made your stomach churn in mixed feelings: anger, embarrassment, shame, sadness, everything all at once.
sinking your nails onto the palm of your hand, you muttered out strings of curses. you knew being in a relationship with someone who had no understanding to the concept of love was a hard thing — but honestly, you thought you got a hang of it. all this time you had been nothing but patient with sukuna, but maybe even that wasn't enough for him.
three hours. you sat alone inside the restaurant you booked for the both of you for three hours — each hour depleting your hope even more. and sukuna just managed to fuck it up even after he said he'd try. well, you should've underlined the keyword there: he said he'd try not that he'd come.
maybe you saw it coming yet it still disappointed you anyways.
your phone rang. even before you see who it was — you knew it's none other than sukuna. your heart screamed at you to answer his phone call, but your mind told you to leave it ringing because you were in no mood to talk to him. yet, at the end — you still pressed the answer button.
"what?"
"where are you?" his rough voice echoed through the line as you walked down the nearly empty street, holding onto your purse, "place's closed."
scoffing, you answered, "'f course it's closed, it's almost ten. i've been waiting for three hours, ryo. three hours."
you could hear him inhale sharply, "i was caught up with something, woman. where are you now?" he questioned. hearing a few car honking behind on the background, "where are you? answer me."
"doesn't matter, i left. and i'm leaving you, i was wrong thinking maybe i could've changed you — turns out, i couldn't. good luck to you," you mutter out sternly.
sukuna raised a brow, "y're kidding."
you weren't, and all he could hear next was the loud dial tune of the other line hanging up — now did he realize that this was all serious and you were actually leaving him for good.
──────〃★ 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎
you sighed, dialing toji for the first time of the night when he said that he was going to pick you up for a date, the phone rung for a while before going into voicemail. grumbling under your breath, you tried dialing him again for the second time, which ended up the same way.
all these time spent on makeup and picking out the best outfit — all for nothing as your boyfriend, toji failed to show up on time. angry, you tried calling him again for the third time, only for it to end up in voicemail yet again. this time you decided to leave a message for him.
"hey, you forgot. didn't you? hope you're happy with yourself, cause 'm not."
dating toji wasn't the easiest — but you love him, no matter what he was like. and it was stupid of you to do so, all this time you've defended his name against your friends' malice towards him, saying how he wasn't treating you well enough and that you deserved so much better.
despite all that, you love him. disregarding their words, retorting back to how toji treats you well, which he does — except for the times he tended to forget about everything, even you. maybe it was time to open your eyes and actually break up; because you did deserve better than this.
it would be a shame to let all this makeup go to waste, and so you hailed a cab and decided to go out for a treat. and made the best out of everything, that is until toji decided it would be the most convenient time to call you back amidst your little "me time".
wiping your hand on the napkin, you answered him, "huh, you're alive," you muttered out, huffing.
he sighs, "i forgot, sorry." you couldn't see him, but toji actually looked remorseful, already on his way out of his apartment to yours, "i'm on my way."
you chuckled, "doesn't matter. i left my house," you informed, taking a bite out of the crab meat, "so don't bother coming — and i don't think i don't deserve this kind of treatment from anyone, even you, toji. i'm breaking up with you because clearly you don't take this relationship as seriously as i am."
toji furrowed his brows, "i forgot, i fucked up, i can make it up. where are you right now?" he asks, his voice still as calm as cucumber. but the look on his face contradicted the tone of his voice.
"bye, toji. good luck."
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arlertwhore · 14 days
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Night Owl - Nika Muhl.
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pairing: nika muhl x fem! reader
word count: 1.4k
synopsis: wnba rookie nika has become a night owl to a worrying extent since entering the league, staying up late in the living room watching games — you just want her in bed.
warning (s): kinda fluffy, smut, fingering, gettin da 🐈 caressed, tongue play, makeout sesh, nipple play, hickies, nika is angsty lol.
a/n: i heard y’all asking so i delivered
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If you thought Nika's craze and perfectionism was intense back when she was at UConn, you've come to realize it's on a whole other level now that she's made the WNBA. She's a rookie, trying to ride the wave of it all, and she's utterly stressed.
You used to playfully tease that the 'N' in your girlfriend's name stood for "night owl." She was perpetually burning the midnight oil, diving into game replays and refining her skills, all with the determination of an WNBA athlete aiming for the win.
You were undeniably proud of her. Yet, you couldn't help but long for the days when she wasn't a mad-man.
It had left you like this on countless nights, feeling the absence keenly as you lay in bed, reaching out for her warmth only to find empty sheets. You'd often find yourself slipping out of bed, drawn to the dim glow of the living room where you'd discover Nika, immersed in her work or training, her dedication evident in the lines of concentration etched on her face. As much as you admired her drive, it was hard not to yearn for the simpler moments when she was by your side, untethered by the demands of her relentless pursuit of excellence.
"Baby," you sighed softly, casting your gaze over the parlor, "Come to bed, Nik, you know I can't sleep without you. And all this... it's really starting to worry me."
Nika's face remained fixated on the TV screen, lips parted, but her hands extended towards you, silently beckoning you to join her.
"I'm all good, baby, jus-" she paused, seeming to relax now that you were on her lap, her hands instinctively upon your waist, "You know I work better at night."
You pressed your lips into a line, a bittersweet smile on your face. "Can I interrupt?" you asked softly.
Nika's eyes flicked between you and the screen. "Mhm, of course."
You leaned in close to her face, nose-to-nose. "It's currently 2 going on 3," you whispered. You pecked her lips gently. "No more of this, Nika. You're not gonna learn anything by burning yourself out."
You took a lock of her brown hair, twirling it gently between your fingers, savoring its softness. "And if you do want to burn yourself out... you've got me," you whispered sensually, promises of your support.
You smiled reassuringly, and Nika returned it with that familiar, comforting smile before leaning in and planting another tender kiss on your lips.
Before you knew it, you guys were deeply engrossed in a make-out session, one that blended perfectly with the mood of the night and the atmosphere surrounding you two. With her gentle hands, she felt you up and down, one inching down towards your clothed heat
to rub over your shorts, and the other moving up to your perky breast seamlessly, rubbing it.
Easily, just like that, you got Nika back to bed, where she continued to feel you up over your night shorts until you succumbed to the pleasure and came undone in your pants with soft, ragged breaths and whines into her mouth.
Feeling the after-effects of your orgasm and the lingering fatigue, you quickly drifted into a deep sleep, comforted by her presence.
When you awoke again, Nika was still awake, her gaze fixed on you as you stirred.
"Sorry," she blushed immediately, her tone apologetic. "I know you hate it when I watch you." But how couldn't she? You looked so incredibly sexy to her in that moment.
Through sleepy, lidded eyes, you gazed up at her, your expression filled with adoration. "You wanna go back to that living room, huh?" you said teasingly, knowing her like the back of your hand, and she
she hesitated before admitting it with a small smile, "I might. But you're making me stay."
Your eyes ghosted down to her lips. "I'd hope so," you crooned before leaning in to kiss her. Positioned intimately in bed, your lips,
involuntarily against her neck, began to plant soft kisses along its delicate curve.
Nika shuddered, hand flying to grip your back and pull you closer to her body. "You're so tense," you observed between kisses, your voice laced with desire. "Makes sense why you can't sleep," you remarked, your breath warm against her skin.
She turned over onto her back, pulling you close between her arm and side, her embrace a silent plea for closeness. Your hand ghosted down Nika's thigh, eliciting a gasp from her as it reached her most sensitive spot.
With practiced ease, your fingers slipped inside her, sending her eyes rolling back in ecstacy, pleasure overtaking her body as all the tension melted away, replaced by an overwhelming sense of bliss.
You chuckled at her reaction to finally getting what you knew she had needed all along. "Am I making you wanna stay put?" you teased gently, brushing a strand of hair away from her face as your lips trailed down her neck, giving her soft kisses that gradually intensified into gentle nips and sucks, forming subtle marks of need.
You worked your fingers, pumping them in and out of her wet cunt as she arched her back, her muscles gradually untensing with each stroke of your determined fingers into her. Soft sighs escaped her parted lips, the brunette releasing small moans of satisfaction into the air.
You leered at Nika unabashedly, your eyes attempting to capture every detail, trying to engrave this moment into your memory forever.
Under the moonlight's gentle embrace, she appears like a scene from an angel. Her fair skin seems to catch the moon's glow, giving her an almost otherworldly aura, and each strand of her hair is softly illuminated, framing her face like a halo.
There's a gentle sweat on her skin from the releasing of her stress and from the warmth of the night air. In this moment, she's not just beautiful, she's captivating in her simplicity. It's a sight that makes your heart skip a beat, a reminder of the magic that exists in the world, especially when you least expect it.
"Am I making you feel better, Nika?" She nodded repeatedly, her eyes closed in pleasure, and her teeth biting down on her bottom lip as she surrendered to the pleasure roving through her body.
"Look at me and tell me how good I'm making you feel then," she clutches the sheets beneath her with one hand, her knuckles turning white, and with the other, the hand that's keeping you close to her body, she pulls you in even closer as she begins to play with her nipple through her flimsy night top, her breathing growing heavier and her moans becoming more pronounced.
Quickly, a minute later, she's panting, "I'm gonna cum on your fingers, baby."
Her body responds eagerly to your touch. She writhes beneath you, bucking against your skilled fingers as you stroke into her, each movement driving her closer to the edge. Gasping with pleasure, she urges you on, her voice trembling with desire. "Keep on goin', babe, just li-like that."
Your lips find hers hungrily, fueled by a primal desire. Sensing her surrender, you do something that makes her tremble weakly, a silent plea for more; you lick into her mouth, greeting her tongue with your own. Her lips try to catch it, but your tongue slips away, leaving her mouth curling around nothing as she finally opens her eyes and gazes at you, elated.
When she cums, it's silent, and you'd miss it lest your eyes remain on her how they are, persistently. She stills, her body frozen in a moment of pure ecstasy. There's no sound, no movement, until the climax washes over her completely. With a sigh of relief, her eyes shut instantaneously, and she lets out a quiet, satisfied groan, completely lost in the blissful aftermath of pleasure.
She'd came a river onto your hands. As you turn around, behind yourself for the nightstand, grabbing some wipes to clean up the aftermath, you turn back to offer some to her, only to find your girlfriend fast asleep, completely spent from the intensity of it all. A soft smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you realize just how thoroughly she's been intoxicated by stress and how you had just eliminated it. You'd do this everynight with her if you had to, just to keep her there, relaxed in bed with you. With gentle care, you clean her up before settling back beside her, wrapping her in your arms as you drift off to sleep together.
You whisper those three precious words to your sleeping beauty, "Love you, Nika," not expecting any response from her exhausted form. But then, to your surprise, you hear a faint murmur from the depths of her slumber, "Love you too."
masterlist
an: it’s soooo late omg I’ll add my thoughts later update: loved writing this... y'all she is a smokeshow i had to lock in.
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riaki · 6 months
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OKAY EVERYONE IS SAYING GOJO DOESN'T DESERVE A HAPPY ENDING YES
BuT what if we could make it a little ANGSTY instead?? 👀 He gets his happy ending. His. Happy ending. You? Well.. Old habits die hard. This is what you wanted after all no? So what if he breaks his promises? What if your smile begins to fade? What if
What you said about later on reader and freckles growing apart cause freckles seemed nice it'd be a shame for him to be an ass
But that it's silly cause the irony is what if that freckle boy.. was just like Gojo but in a different light.
Being as it wasn't him who hurt reader, it was easy to overlook the fact of how similar he was to the old Gojo she knew before it became a shit show
Maybe she realizes that
Maybe she starts thinking
Maybe she drifts apart
And maybe Gojo comforts her but he's the last person she wants to see
Because it's these stupid feelings for Gojo that led her to this hell
And Gojo goes again
And he reels her in
And once he has her
Only to see as her smile begins to fade
As all the effort he had put in when he didn't have her start going away once again
And he starts to fall into old habits becoming the same as he was before, but this time, with you at his hand
As he slowly takes away your smiles again.
But it's okay, he'll make it right. Just...later. and later. And later...
You hope.
sorry I'm not good with angst sorry for any cringe 🤣
this is!! such!!! a good!!!! take!!!!!! on hsbully!gojo!!!!!! tbh this ask speaks for itself lol n dw anon! i rlly love the way u brought it :3 this is highschoolbully!gojo part 592727465527 *suggestive!
yeah. freckles boy isn’t that great of a person. maybe he tried but it didn’t work out; u dunno why but u keep seeing gojo in him— hints of satoru in ur life. like that stinky cologne he thinks is kinda cool but rlly doesn’t smell too good on ur bfs drawer, or the way he takes his coffee. honestly, if u squint, it almost seems like freckle boy is tryna copy gojo in a way…? but u don’t like thinkin abt him so u don’t blink an eye.
fast forward u broke up with freckle boy because something or other; the point is, u really didn’t feel anything with him. there might’ve been a spark, but it was really only artificial and had no wind to fan the flames. and since u got together gojo’s been distant; his smile seems dimmer and there’s always this faraway; foggy look that makes the brilliant azure of his eyes seem cloudy gray. but then ur catching up with him again and at some random frat party you get drunk and ur sense is inhibited and— u end up kissing gojo… oops.
so then u kinda enter this fwb state with him. and.. he’s pretty cool, right? he’s kinda evrything u want in a guy— tall, pretty, cool, strong, handsome, charming— it’s a package deal. but there’s also this… rift, between the two of you. see, ever since gojo lost u the first time, he’s always been so scared of pushing u away. so u stay fwb because he doesn’t wanna lose u again in case he’s feelin more than you are. but his heart doesn’t skip a beat when he sleeps with other girls and his chest doesn’t tighten like it does with u when he gets mouthfuls of fruity gloss from kissing other girls. but he forces himself to keep this wall up between the two of u because he just can’t risk losing you a third time.
it sucks for u too, though! gojo’s just a bit too dense to see it. whether it’s in his own nature, or he’s faking it. it’s probably the latter, but that’d mean he’s not being genuine again, n you don’t wanna think about it. but you’re gettin comfy with him and so is he, and you really do whole heartedly believe he’s changed this time, and for good. and it’s true! he has. but not in the way you thought. apparently, he’s exchanged being an ass with an unreachable ego to a pinch more genuine, but still an ass. it’s proved when u get to his apartment one rainy day ready to spend the weekend w/ him for a study date, but there’s clothes on the floor. dresses n stockings and a frilly blouse that you definitely think (or hope) don’t belong to gojo. unfortunately, your suspicions are confirmed when you lay eyes on the tangle of people on his bedroom through the crack in the door— this time, it’s your turn to run in a hurry. turns out, he got comfortable with you— all in the wrong way, thinking it’d be okay to sleep around. except he gives chase— after pulling on a pair of pants, of course.
eventually he catches up to you; you hate those stupidly long legs. catches your wrist and forces you to face him. in front of a chick fil a, nonetheless. he gets an overwhelming sense of deja vu— but he’s forcibly snapped out of it when je realizes you’re crying. and damn, you look gorgeous, and he wishes it would rain because the sunlight falls around you like liquid gold, framing your pretty face and reflecting prisms of rainbow in your tears.
once again, he doesn’t get it. why are you crying? it’s not like you were really serious or labeled, right…? and the entire reason you’d stayed that way was to avoid somethin like this. but gojo slowly comes to the realization that he’s fucked up big time— he has been since day 1. really, he should’ve found somebody cheaper to chase— you stole his heart and his pride, making him awkwardly and stiffly apologize to you in front of a fast food restaurant on some random crossing next to a train station. it’s only tense because he doesn’t really know how to apologize— he doesn’t have much experience with it, and for that he blames his ego.
but even so, he’s not ready for those big, sappy love confessions yet. you always made him feel so weird— correction: you still do. so you walk away somewhere between fwb and strangers. it’s always one step forward and two steps back with gojo. but maybe, just maybe— he can slowly rebuild your trust with some patience, empathy, and a lot of genuine love that he’s yet to realize he’s been nursing in his heart for you since the first time he laid eyes on you.
paaaaaaart one
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liveontelevision · 1 day
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Hello hello! If you are still taking requests I've been dying for an Alastor x reader where the reader was married to him when he was alive, and she outlives him quite a while before they reunite in hell, only for him to nearly die again when the angels attack. I love your work!
I've been wanting to do this prompt for a hot minute, sorry it took so long Anon :')
But here's a good long fluffy, angsty, fic to balance out how much of an ass Alastor is in Suffer lol
Curiosity Killed the Cat | Reader x Alastor
What caught your eye first, was how much whiskey he could down before losing his composure. You found yourself in awe, watching this charismatic stranger go round after round, only to end up on the dance floor with more energy than you had when you were sober. Truly a spectacle. Why don't you go tell him that?
"Excuse me-" You say in a sing-song voice, slipping by the stranger to beckon another drink your way. You may or may not have brushed your body against him in some sort of attempt to get his attention. It went unnoticed, but that's alright, that trick didn't usually work on the ones who had one too many drinks.
You decide the next best action is to sit at the seat next to him, despite there being multiple unoccupied stools at the bar. That’s something he has to question, right?
Of course not. You spent far too long trying to get his attention in any way, and he's either humming a song to himself or chatting with the plump, noisy, owner who would come by. They seemed to be close friends.. but she definitely wasn't his type. She looks like one to cause trouble.
You get a good scope of his character. He came in wearing a pristine trenchcoat, shielding an expensive-looking vest and tie combo. But, by now the tie had come undone and was draped across his neck. The heat of the whiskey might've gotten to him, he left his top few buttons precariously opened. You didn't mind that one bit. Next thing you spot; slightly messed hair and smudged glasses- bingo.
"Hey, birdy-" you finally muster some courage to get his attention. "-may I?" You pull out a handkerchief you usually have on hand, in case handsome strangers with glasses need a quick clean. It took you a good half hour to finally speak up, but he's looking you up and down as if you had just walked in. It takes a moment, but you see him finally decide you aren't a threat. He sits silently. Taking another swig of his drink, he looks at you with a smile. Does he want you to.. no harm in trying.
You bite at your lip, hesitantly reach out to his face, and carefully pluck the glasses from the bridge of his nose. He shuts his eyes as you do so. A man hasn't made you blush in quite some time. You decide to blame the drinks. Luckily, you have a task to keep your mind preoccupied. You're carefully swiping any smudges clear from the lenses when you hear his voice for the first time. Or so you thought.
"Mimzy, dear, do tell me who this little kitten here is. A regular?" You're assuming he's speaking about you, he's gesturing in your direction with his empty glass. The owner of the speak-easy, who you now know as Mimzy, trots behind the bar to top off his drink.
"For sure! What do ya say, kid, you're here.. on most weekends, ain't ya?" She turns to you, and you take a moment to confirm. You didn't think she'd notice, you don't come here that often. That's what you tell yourself at least.
"Got an eye on her tonight, Al? Sounds like someone's not goin' home alone~" She teases him with a quick jab, and he's quick to roll his eyes.
"Now now, she's been perched here for quite a while and has barely said a word to me, I doubt she's getting any more than a free drink." He sounds snarky, yet.. familiar..
"Al… as in Alastor? That radio host fellow? Well, I’ll be damned! I wasn't expecting a celebrity such as yourself to frequent little joints like this one." You comment, finally joining the conversation. You hear a throat being cleared dramatically and turn to the owner behind the bar. You laugh nervously.
"Not that- it's still a good bar- I.. Sorry." Good recovery. Your attention is taken to the hand outstretched to you, and you instinctively lean away from it.
"Kitten-" He beckons his hand, and you follow his eyes to his glasses that were still in your grasp. You let yet another nervous laugh and quickly pass them over. He slips them on with a satisfied hum.
"If I remember correctly, Al-" you attempt to mock the nickname you picked up from Mimzy. "- You have a broadcast tomorrow morning, no? You really think drinking like a sailor tonight is the best idea?" You weren’t concerned, really. You wanted to tease him a bit longer.
"Props to you for knowing my schedule." You realize how strange that might've sounded and quickly finish your drink to prevent any more embarrassing thoughts from slipping from your lips. "Are you implying I can't handle my liquor, dear?" He scoffs, beckoning the bartender over. He has them refill your glass.
"I'm sure you can, birdy, but you've been pounding down more drinks than I can count." You respond. You weren't one to flirt effectively. That, or he just happens to see right through your nerves.
"So, you've been counting, hm?" You realize you had outed yourself to watching him all night. You curse yourself quietly, hoping the music filling the room will cover your frustration. "Appreciate the concern, but I promise you, I'm more than capable of doing my job. No matter the circumstances."
While he seemed to be reading you quite easily, you had picked a few things up yourself. For one, he watches everything. And he seems to only drop his intel when he needs to. Or to mock you. And two, he's a bit of a narcissist.. quite an ego on this one. But that could work in your favor tonight.
"Well, fine then. I'll be up bright and early to listen to your broadcast. I doubt you can get through it with a hangover. Especially considering how much you've been drinking."  You state proudly. He lets out a chuckle, and despite how quiet it is, you can't help but appreciate his sultry laugh.
"Is that a challenge, kitten?" He purrs -ha- leaning his chin into his hand and slouching his body towards the bar.
"I mean if it is, there must be stakes." You say it as a matter of fact. "Let's say.. you cover my bill next time if I catch you slip up."
"Hm. Seems fair. You better be listening close, though, I'm very good at what I do." He enunciates his final sentence and it sends a shiver down your spine. For a brief moment, you consider this could be a bad idea.
"And when I win, what will be my prize?" He asks. You let out a little giggle at his cockiness.
"I'll tell you my name." He cocks his head to the side, an intrigue hitting him. Did he really manage to get this far without a proper introduction?
"I see your little detective game going on, I'll give you that. You are quite the observer. But you won't find my name just by looking." You say smugly. That's true for a number of reasons.
"I suppose you did leave that information out, hm?" He let's his eyes drop, as if he was trying to piece it together with what little information he had.
"I must say, you've got me hooked, kitten." He lets out a sigh, leaning back in his chair and finishing off yet another drink.
"Deal?" You hum, holding your hand out to him. He smirks, taking it into his own, not expecting a firm shake, but receiving one. He went on to press a quick kiss to your knuckles.
"Deal."
You went home alone after that night, but it was likely for the best. You were sure you'd see him next time, anyway.
Now that you had to tell him your name.
You thought for sure he'd at least stumble through a sentence, but no. He went through the entire show, even an interview with some big shot, and spoke perfect English. He talked like he'd never had a drop of booze his entire life and got a full night's sleep, which you both knew was far from the truth. You almost dreaded the next encounter, but at least you didn't wager anything too crazy. Sure, he'll see you differently after this, but if this were to go any further - what are you on about? You only met him once and listened to him on the radio occasionally at best. He's a perfect stranger to you. Let's not get too excited.
You find yourself seated in the same spot as before, shrinking into your seat and downing a few drinks to build your courage. You told him your mark. An awkward introduction, first and last name, made you feel like a new student at a children's school. He perks up, which is what you expected.
"Ah! So you're the famed physician! It's almost silly of you to call me a celebrity, you're the talk of the town, kitten." You groan, of course, he recognizes you. Everyone in this damned small town knows your name, your family.
You were one of the first women to complete their studies and practice medicine from your hometown. But to attend such high schooling in this time, your family had to be well off. And you were, in fact, well off. When it came to your love life, men were either disgusted by your pursuit of knowledge or took it like some fetish. You haven't approached anyone for years.. not like this, at least.
"You know, I spoke with your father a few-" You groan at the mention of him, cutting Alastor off mid-sentence.
"Don't be a fool, I heard the little interview on your show.. Can't say that was my favorite broadcast." Alastor had a certain segment where he would chat with some of the richer and more.. stuck up.. men in society. It wasn’t titled as such, you just noticed the trend of guests being pompous and wealthy. And your father was the perfect fit for that.
You didn't know this at the time, but Alastor was suddenly hit with some mixed emotions. There was more than one reason as to why your father was chosen to be on his broadcast. Alastor used his interviews to initiate close ties, and make powerful allies. If they weren't complying how he hoped, he would usually cut ties. Permanently.
Your father was definitely not a reasonable man, in fact, you made it a point to avoid him when you returned home. But did he deserve death?
"I didn't expect just the sight of me walking the streets to be as interesting as it is." You mumbled, leaning forward on the counter and drinking something much stronger than you expected. But the mentions of your father called for a hard hitter.
"You didn't?" He asked bluntly, twirling the liquor in his glass. You hum in agreement. Gossip spreads like wildfire here.
"Well, you've picked up some interesting feats. If you were hoping to go unseen, I would've put some more thought into my rags." He gestured to your clothing. It was definitely of higher quality, but it was something you were used to wearing while attending your school in a high-class city. You felt a bit embarrassed, placing your hands in your lap to subtly hide your body.
"And a beautiful doctor like yourself just 'walking the streets'? Some might be concerned for your safety." You tilt your head to the side at his words. Your confusion makes him smirk.
"I'm sure you're aware, kitten, but there seems to be a killer on the loose." He seems far too excited for the subject at hand, and it's almost noticeable.
"Hm. Guess I shouldn't be going out alone and talking to strange men, should I?" You say with a smile.
"I suppose you shouldn't." He shrugs off your words, getting another drink. You didn't even see him finish the previous one. "Though I must say, I'm glad you did. You've been quite the conversationalist." It's barely flirting, but it seems to leave you blushing a bit.
You went on to chat throughout the night, your drunken rambling turned to complaints about your father, and morbid details about what you'd learned in medical school. Both topics that you didn't realize intrigued Alastor to a personal extent. Later on, the rambles started to become incomprehensible. He decides it would be best for you to leave, considering you were refusing to do so and thoroughly embarrassing yourself in the process.
A giggling, stumbling mess, you were carefully lifted from your seat and brought to your feet with his assistance. He helped you out to the streetside, calling a taxi and bringing you into the backseat gently. He then went ahead and paid the driver, and turned at his heels to head back inside.
As he was reaching for the bar's door, a loud call forced him to turn back to the cab.
"Buddy, she's too sloshed to give me an address. You know where she lives?" Shit. Alastor looks to the bar’s door, then to the cab, where he spots you leaning your head against the window in the backseat. He sighs.
After insisting the driver keep the fair, Alastor brought you back out. He kept you standing with a hand on your lower back, as you gripped onto his shirt, far too small to reach your arm over his towering figure. He was cringing at the sight of his clothes becoming disheveled.
"Alright, kitten, where are you staying? I doubt you'd appreciate me taking you to your family home.." He was talking in a hushed voice, in the hopes that you'd have enough conscious to respond, but knew that likely wasn't the case. He looks around the area as if the answer would be in plain sight. He lets out a sigh of defeat when it clearly wasn't.
"Didn't even get to finish my drink.." He mumbles, pulling you closer to keep you stable enough to walk a few blocks.
There, sat a charming little motel. However, calling it charming was.. optimistic. Your memory, to this day, is in small flashes. Only certain things come to mind when trying to picture what went on.
You remember Alastor talking to the older gentleman at the desk. It seemed like they were acquaintances. Maybe they've done business in the past.
You remember him giving up after finding that the room he booked was on the second floor. Unwilling to deal with the staircase, he hoisted you up quite easily. You definitely remember that. How such a slender man can hold you in his arms with no strain.
You remember the room, it was cleaner than you expected. He seated you on the edge of the bed, kneeling in front of you to remove your heels. He didn't seem to go much farther than that. He could've removed your entire wardrobe with your state of mind, and you'd be none the wiser. How awful it must be, to live in a world where a man not making a pass, surprises you.
As far as you know, you drifted to sleep almost right after. You're pretty sure he wrapped you in the blankets, and you remember the faint touch of hair being brushed from your face. His hand was far colder than you would have expected.
Being in your occupation, you don't exactly have time to confront all the horrific sights you've seen. So, your body deals with those emotions in other ways. A common occurrence, you were plagued with a number of night terrors. Something seems different in tonight's regularly scheduled program, though. A radio static overwhelms your senses, and any horrifying disfigurations that were taunting you seem to fade into nothing. A yellow grin and glowing red eyes are the last thing you can see.
You woke up the next morning with an excruciating headache, an ache in your stomach, and sore feet. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you barely care about the makeup that you'd smudged beyond repair. You try to recall your dreams, which usually stay vivid in your mind for most of the morning, but.. there's nothing. And despite the killer hangover, you feel more awake than you have in ages.
The panic settled in after you ran your hands across the unfamiliar sheets. With a soft gasp, you observe yourself. Still fully clothed, you spot your heels set next to the door. You look around the room next, and you almost feel relieved, seeing Alastor seated in a lounge chair in the corner of the room. He had his nose in a book. It was better than seeing him lying on the other side of the bed.. wait, was it?
You let out a pathetic little sound, your voice too weak to form any coherent words. He sets the book on his lap, and your sad attempt at a greeting seems to catch his attention.
"Good morning to you, too, kitten. Sleep well?" You were sure he drank as much as last night. If not, more. How dare he look so put together?
"Morning. I-um.. I suppose I did.. I-I hate to ask, but did... did we-" you stammer out, and he quickly holds his hands up in defense.
"Heavens no, dear, I wouldn't dare defile a woman who can't handle her whiskey." You scoff at his insult but still feel disarmed by his reaction.
"So then.. the motel room?" You question. He cocks his head to the side, only now realizing that your memory must've gone from the previous night.
"Ah, so you really can't handle your whiskey.. Well, not to fret, dear. You weren't telling me where you were staying, and Mimzy seemed keen on me taking you elsewhere." In actuality, she was trying to play matchmaker. Thanks for trying, Mimzy.
"I'm sorry for the trouble, Alastor, I hate that you bought a room just for me.. I can pay you back." You sit up, running your hands through your mess of hair and letting out a pained groan.
"I'm sure you can, but I simply can't accept." He stands, tucking the book under his arm and walking to your bedside. You swing your legs over the edge, only to notice how close he seems to hover over you. You look up and realize how statuesque he was. You hadn't seen him in daylight. And his height is much more intimating when he stands.
"It was my pleasure, getting to witness you thoroughly embarrass yourself." He bends at the hips, a taunting smile across his face. You try to recall anything embarrassing you might've done the night before, but you can barely recall a thing. That did little to ease your mind.
"You'll have to tell me about it one day." You grumble, standing with his assistance. He offered to escort you home, and you happily accepted.
The two of you stand on your small porch. It's a quaint duplex you've been renting, you go on about how how the family who lives here travels for the summer and was more than happy to offer their home to such a sweet thing.
"Well, since you insist that I can't handle my liquor, it might be a better idea to find each other.. somewhere other than a joint..." you say sheepishly, your eyes wandering to anywhere but his gaze. When he steps closer, you finally fix your wide eyes on him.
"You don't want me to court you, kitten. You're a lovely, educated, pretty little thing, you'll be wasting your time, unfortunately." He doesn't sound insulting, he says it very truthfully. It only makes you want to see more. To ask him to come in, and stick around awhile. But you're aware he has a broadcast coming up soon. You wonder if he would've stayed by your side if you slept through it.
"I'll be the judge of that. Besides, getting coffee doesn't waste too much time." You decide to stand your ground. You aren't sure why he's refusing if he thinks all that of you. You see him look you up and down, then let out a sigh.
"Hm. I suppose. I'll be back here tomorrow morning since you're so insistent. Just remember I warned you-" He says playfully as he makes his way down the stairs.
"Curiosity killed the cat, my dear!" He calls out before giving another heart-melting smile. You nervously bite your lip and watch him walk off through the cracked door. Like a damned puppy, you couldn't help but watch him walk off. You quickly shut the door, after realizing how hard you were smiling.
-
This was supposed to be for fun. You were just supposed to be some extra company on occasions. And he knew you came with your perks. You were an heir to a decent fortune, it only made sense for him to befriend you. You were knowledgeable and smart, he could definitely benefit from your skills if he needs to do so. There were plenty of ways Alastor could use you if necessary.
But with every little dance, every little coffee, or walk home from the bar, it was making him nervous. Of course, he would never call it that, he's too disgusted by the pangs in his chest he gets around you. Unfiltered, yet still delicate and professional. Incredibly intelligent, yet still makes the silliest mistakes. You were flawed. You came from such a slob of a man, and the fact that you are so kind despite that amazes him more than you realize. You are more than willing to stand for your beliefs. For one of the first times in his life, Alastor admired someone.
He's not sure what conversations led to him agreeing to cook yet another dinner in your home, but here he was; standing at your door with a bag of groceries.
"Oh- you didn't need to do all that, you're always free to use anything in the kitchen." You greet him as he comes inside, where he sets the bag at a nearby counter space. You reach up and pull his trenchcoat off his shoulders, which he willingly surrenders to. It was a little action you took, taking his coat for him when he would stop by. He's come to expect it. You hang it up on the rack nearby.
"Nonsense, I'm sure you have plenty to work with, but I'm following a special recipe tonight." He insisted, already unpacking things, setting up pots and pans, and rolling up his sleeves. He pulled an apron from the bag last, and the sight of him all prepped for cooking leaves you weak in the knees. You want to see this every night. You want him in your kitchen every mealtime. You shake the desires from your head, pushing aside the dreams of domesticity that have been plaguing your mind recently.
"Can I help with anything?" You chime in, peeking around the corner to smile at him through the doorway. He shakes his head.
"If you feel the need to help, you're more than welcome to get the table set, but I am quite in my element here, kitten. So, not to worry." You were mostly listening to him, but one part of you kept your focus on his skillful knife practice, watching him chop vegetables in a nearly professional manner.
"Kitten? The table?" His words and his moving on to something else snapped you from your funk.
"Oh! Of course, yes." You stumble a bit but do as he instructs. It wasn't anything special, but the space was more than enough to give the ambiance of a good date.
Damn, this man could cook. He's cooked for you before, but something you couldn't quite put a finger on left you swooning at the sight of the still-steaming gumbo in front of you.
"Damn, you can cook." You're muttering, between bites. You almost can't taste all its decadence, digging in before letting it fully cool.
"Slow down, dear, we have all night." He says softly, despite bringing a spoonful to his own lips. You catch yourself staring at the sight of him eating beside you, enthralled by his enthusiastic hums.
"So where did this come from? I'm a bit suspicious of the finery if I'm honest." You place your elbows on the table, perching your chin on top of your hands. He scoffs in response.
"How rude. All my meals are of the highest quality. I simply haven't made this in quite a while, I thought tonight would be a good time to do so." He replies.
"A recipe for special occasions, hm? Would you consider this.. a special occasion?" You tease, looking at him with a cocked eyebrow. He looks confused, letting his eyes wander in thought for a moment. Was this a special occasion? Is there any specific reason he wanted to bring his own mother's recipe to some girl he's befriended? He pushes the thought aside, planning on mocking you like usual.
"Any night with you is plenty special, kitten." He hums, popping another spoonful into his mouth. He doesn't see your face turning red, but his oblivious flirting always leaves you flushed.
"In that case, when are you inviting me to your own home? I won't lie and say I'm not curious, Al." You set your finished plate aside and notice his eye twitch. You've been staring at him long enough to notice even his smallest ticks.
"Someday. I've a bit of a mess to go through before considering bringing any guests over." He brushes clean his already pristine top, as you stand and take his empty plate to the kitchen. With a sigh, you take yourself over to the sink to do a quick clean. It's the least you could do after such a lovely meal.
"If you say so." You try your best to sound calm, but you're slightly hurt by his constant rejection of letting you into his personal life. It wasn't all the time, but there were clearly things he refused to talk about. You want nothing more than to know him.
Lost in your mildly upsetting thoughts, you recklessly take one of his knives the wrong way, the blade slicing surprisingly easily down your finger. The shock takes you back more than the actual pain. These are far too nice for everyday cooking.
Letting out a quiet curse, you feel his hand brush over your own, his shadow casting over your entirety. "Such a clutz." You hear, his voice causing you to tense. You let him guide your hand under the water to rinse it, effectively caging you in place.
"Be careful, will you? These are my nicer tools." Interesting way to say it, but you were too focused on the fact that you could feel his breath heating the back of your neck. You simply nod, before turning the water off with your free hand. You turn your body around, leaning your back against the edge of the countertop and effectively facing Alastor. His hands stay planted on either side of you, making it a bit of a tight squeeze. You weren't sure what you were trying to accomplish here, but here you are. Neither of you seem to be moving away, though. He drops his head to look into your eyes. You're lost in them.
You reach your arms upwards, holding them around his neck as best you can, and you feel him willingly lean within your grasp. The moment is heated, you feel his breath against your lips as you pull him impossibly closer. His breath is quick, almost shaky. You've never seen this side of him. You'd never associate Alastor with the term nervous.
Nearly closing the gap, you feel a hand come to your throat and fingers gently holding your jaw. With a quick turn, he places a soft kiss on your cheek. It lingers for a moment, and even if it wasn't what you were expecting, you're gasping beneath his affection. The room seems to cool down for a moment. He steps away silently, pulling his things all together.
You may have made a mistake.
"Oh, Al- I'm sorry I didn't think.. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, i-if that's what happened there." Your words quicken, suddenly becoming anxious that you may have upset him.
"No, don't fret." He waves his hand dismissively, his back still turned to you as he keeps himself busy with a bit of tidying. "I'd be an idiot to not expect that, eventually." He almost sounds insulting, a little cocky.
"Why's that? Are you used to women just throwing themselves at you?" You tease but keep yourself from his eyeline.
"Well, yes- but, you've been especially touchy recently. And you seem to be acting like I make you.. nervous. Fidgety." His little observations leave you a bit embarrassed.
"It's not nervous.. exactly. Never mind that, though.. Does.. that interest you..? At all?" It takes you a while to get the question out and it still comes across shaky. You're response is silence. Fill it.
"H-How about a drink before you head off, hm?" You quickly shuffle to your liquor cart, looking for anything to drown out your essential confession.
"It does." You freeze in place, missing the cup entirely with your first pour. That was an answer neither of you were really expecting. You finally turn to him, seeing that he had looked away just as you did.
"So, that means-" you want him to elaborate. You want to hear him say all the things you've been dreaming of. That he wants to spend his free time with you, hold your hand, and kiss it with more than just a greeting in mind. To call you anything other than kitten. Well.. that last part you didn't mind as much.
"I've not prepared myself for such a conversation, but I.. enjoy your company. And your brains.. and you certainly aren't terrible to look at." He said he didn't prepare himself, and it was pretty obvious. This wasn't his usual taunting, his usually eloquent beats. He's pausing between phrases, to come up with the best words on hand.
"Jee, thanks." You roll your eyes, your smile still shining.
"I suppose you leave me speechless, kitten." You leave a radio host, a man who talks for a living and is quite good at it, speechless. This time, he sees the freshly pink hues across your cheek. He lets out a devious chuckle, one you recognize when he's about to do something you'd consider nefarious. He starts to approach you, his clean shoes clicking against the wooden floors being the only sound. You knew you weren't in danger, but you find yourself walking backward until you hit the table. Continuing to lean away from him, he towers over you, only following your avoidance until you are straining to stand upwards.
"Well?" You let out, your words barely a whisper. "Are you going to kiss me or not?"
That seems to shock him a bit, you see his shoulders tense just slightly. You watch him contemplate his next action. He let his hand snake around your waist, not exactly to pull you closer, but his touch still left you weak. With a soft kiss on your lips, he gave you no time to truly enjoy it.
"I hate to repeat myself, but I warned you, kitten. Curious little things like yourself deserve.. more." After processing his words, you're still melting to his touch despite how fleeting it was. He steps away.
"W-What- No! I thought you said you were interested! And that kiss- W-What were-" You throw a bit of a tantrum, but quickly calm yourself. "I don't understand, help me understand. Please.." You sound a bit defeated. He sighs, clearly pained that this conversation has to continue.
"Hm.. I don't believe I'm able to give you everything you need. But, you deserve everything you need. It's as simple as that." He's pausing between words, and his expression shows that he's still not exactly satisfied with how it came out.
You shrank in place and held your arms, your mind trying to scrap together any little hints to what he means. Maybe something he's mentioned in the past. But as elusive as ever, it still just doesn't make sense to you. He catches a glimpse of your upset appearance, then takes in the rest of your state a bit longer. You can feel his eyes on you, forcing you to nervously bite at your lip.
"Okay. Let's forget all that, then." You said softly, smiling the best you can and waving your hand dismissively. He obviously knows that you wouldn't lose these feelings as quickly as he'd hoped. He'd reassure you, you'll get over it.
But you couldn't. You tried, you did. You went on other dates, considering how many men were throwing themselves at you in the right bars. You kept your distance for a bit but still saw him at Mimzy's bar on the weekends. Despite all your potential suitors, you still only seemed to look forward to those nights with Alastor. You'd go as far as to complain about some unruly men to him. His disgusted reactions were a comfort.
You kept trying to pry his real reasoning as to why he wouldn't be with you. He'd admit to not being trustworthy, which you would always dismiss. He'd go on about the other men that would be a much better fit, and all with good reasoning, but you still wouldn't stop pestering him. Then, after a few too many drinks, he finally let slip his disinterest in intimacy. And from everything he's told you, this seemed different. It wasn't an excuse or an avoidance, it was the truth.
"So, you don't find me physically attractive?" You ask him, swirling your half-empty cup.
"It's not that, I assure you. I'd just prefer to shower you in other affections, I suppose." He seems a bit unfiltered tonight, still avoiding your eyes.
"Other affections, hm? Like what, birdy?" You were already enraptured. But you were kicking yourself for getting your hopes up at all. You can see his immediate regret in his words.
"Kitten-"
"Please? I'm just curious." You say sincerely, placing your hand over top of his. You hesitate for a moment, but he seems to not mind the touch.
"Well.. I'd like to buy you the finest things. Any book you're slightly interested in, any frock that draws your eyes, any accessories that would bring out your natural beauty- you deserve it. I want to keep you proudly on my arm throughout the streets, showing everyone that you belong to me. I'd like to cook you every meal, until the day I die." His drunken rants leave an obvious sparkle in your eyes.
"Well that all sounds lovely to me.." you say softly, twisting and turning his hand until your fingers are comfortably interlocked with his. "Simply put, you're not interested in sex?” He was taken aback by your bold words, looking around as if he were nervous someone would hear. “I’ve read about it before, there’s an interesting essay that describes this sort of phenomenon. I'll have to lend it to you.” Your calmness surprises him.
“Well.. Thank you. That puts an end to that, then. Go on and find a man who can properly bed you.” He tries to act just as calm, but his voice still seems a bit frustrated by the idea. You make an act out of tapping your chin and humming in thought.
“No, I’d much rather spend my time with you.” You say bluntly. He quickly chimes in.
“But, I-”
“Alastor, I’ve never met someone as arrogant as you.” You let out a frustrated groan, pinching the bridge of your nose. “If you’ll have me, however you want that is, I’d love nothing more than to spend my days with you.” You speak slowly, almost mockingly, trying to get this damned point across after so long.
He’s still quiet, opening his mouth to respond, then letting his lips shut again. He smiles at you. You couldn't ask for a better response. It was the sweetest smile you've ever seen from him, no sign of teasing or mocking you, no hidden intent, and just slightly bashful. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze, in a sweet sign of acceptance.
Things went on after that without a hitch. Mostly. There were some kinks to work out, sure, but you were absolutely head over heels for him. No one’s ever brought you this much joy, and having this more intimate side of him, despite its physicalities, was more than you could ever hope for. He’d finally let you into his home after a while. It was near spotless and he was more than willing to show off the space to you. You wondered why he felt the need to stall this for so long. But you’re together now, hardly anything else matters.
As the summer came to an end, and you had to find somewhere else, you were invited to stay with Alastor. After walking freely around town, as promised, with his arm around yours, gossip spread as it always does. Another talk of the town, two unwed youths in the same place, sharing the same bed assumedly. It made you two snicker at the rumors. Living with him was heaven.
Following through his previous statements, he showered you in compliments, cooked every meal for you, and spent as much of his free time with you as he could. He offered little physical affection, little pecks here and there, and had no issue with sharing his bed. It wasn't long before you popped the question. Neither of you were really interested in the big fancy wedding idea, he was even comprehended by the marriage itself, but if anyone could wear down his nerves, it was you. That being said, Alastor did get you a ring that you were sure cost far too much. He brought up the idea of eloping. A little vacation just for the two of you. It sounded perfect.
“Birdy~ You let out in a sing-song tone, opening the door to your shared home. Every time you’d walk up to the house, you’d slow down, taking in your flawless reality every day. You’d hold your hand out to yourself, looking at the still newly polished ring, then finally entering your perfect home.
Although, it wasn’t perfect today.
You call out his name, no response. You know he should be home, so you peak around corners to no avail. You checked tables and counters, no note to be seen.
After setting down your bag, slipping your heels off, and hanging your coat after your quick search, you head to your room to at least change for the evening. You and Alastor usually go visit Mimzy on these nights, an unspoken routine.
On the way to your room, your tights hit a wet splotch on the floor. With a groan of disgust, you finally realize what you had stepped in.
Blood.
Of course, you’d recognize blood. It trailed from the door in front of you.
Alastor assured you this was his office and showed it to you on occasion. The door was always open when he wasn't home, and although you never felt the need to intrude on his personal space, something was clearly wrong. You swung open the door.
“No.”
You cover your mouth after your quiet refusal. You're silent, unwilling to believe what you're seeing. Your darling husband-to-be, kneeling over a stained and still wet corpse wrapped in canvas. His hands are covered in blood. Actually, his entire body is covered in blood.
How he managed to get in and out of the house without making an entire mess was a thought that managed to cross your mind in your state of shock. You glance up for a second to notice one of the heavy bookshelves pushed aside, a sort of patio doorway leading to the swampy area behind the house.
You look at the door, then to Alastor. Who’s giving you a wide-eyed face that pains your chest.
Say something, Alastor. Say something that’ll make this all okay. You're a deer in headlights.
He notices your eyes dart to the right, then back to him, staring for a moment longer. One thing is on your mind without his reassurance. You’re in danger.
Run.
You book it down the hall, clearly going to the exit. Both your feet soaked in blood at this point are tracking through the house. The moment was such a blur, that you hardly remember how far you got before feeling the pain of hitting the floor. You look down after scrambling onto your back, seeing Alastor’s hand wrap around your ankle.
“Hold on! You’re covered in blood, you’re a mess, just-” He sounds deranged. Who is this man? Surely not the one who’s been treating you so well all this time. He sounds anxious and angry. You’re face is stained with tears as he essentially drags you across the floor briefly, not considering his heightened adrenaline in these moments. You kick. You scream.
“Listen to me!” He grabs you by your arms, giving you a good shake. That seems to calm you down.. or at least quiet you down. You’re staring at him wide-eyed, your breath rapid. He has your attention, yet he’s not sure what to say. A pained expression grows on his face. You’re leaving him speechless, again.
“Let’s.. clean you up.” He scoops you up, and maybe it's the shock that leaves you so lenient. Or maybe it's all the good times blurring what you've witnessed. When you come to, you’re sitting in the bath, Alastor by your side, and running a sponge across your arm, thoroughly staining the water with blood. The sight brings a gasp from your lips, that feels like the first breath you've taken in hours.
“A-Alastor-” You let out weakly, your frightened expression now burned into his mind. “Was that real..?”
“It was-” He lets out a pained sigh, seeing if he could soften the truth. It's not possible. “-It was.” no words can save him from this.
“W-Why..?”
“He was rather unpleasant. A man with too much money, who wasted most of his time on hitting his women staff. He had his chance to make things right, I assure you, this is always the last resort.” That doesn't help for obvious reasons. You pull away from his gentle washing.
“Always? You've done this before?” Your voice squeaks as it comes out. You don't want to know the details. But you can't stop the words from spilling from your lips. He stands and rings the sponge out into the sink, watching the red-tinted water swirl down the drain.
“Yes.”
“How many times have you-” You stop yourself finally. You don't want the answer to that one. You don't want the answer to any of these questions. Unconsciously, your mind still seems to piece together every strange thing he’s done and said to you.
Your half-sentence is replied to with silence. He goes on to finish cleaning you up, helping you in and out of the tub, and drying you as best he can. He wraps you in his own robe and brings you to the bedroom. You’re mortified when you notice him guiding you by your shoulders to avoid the bloody footprints still on the ground.
Some time passes. You sit empty-minded on the edge of the bed, your eyes gazing down into nothing. Alastor leans against the vanity across the small room from you. He runs his hands through his hair, pausing and clenching some strands in his fists before moving on.
“I can..get all your belongings together, find you a place to stay. I’ll do what I can to keep you safe.” He finally says, breaking the silence and your endless train of thought. His offer seems reasonable, but you still feel hurt.
“You want me to leave?” You ask quietly, gripping the edges of the robe and shrinking into yourself. He’s shocked by your response, you can hear it in his voice.
“You want to stay?” He asks in response.
“I.. I love you.” You say weakly. It stings to say it out loud. And even more so to hear it. “Will you hurt me? I-If I go to the police? If I rat you out..?” What are you doing? You can’t ask a murderer that. Your mind is running on fear, especially after what you just said. You feel his hand lightly lift your face to his, flinching slightly considering you hadn't noticed him approaching you.
“I would never hurt you. I’d spend my days rotting in a jail cell if it meant you’re safe..and happy. I love you, kitten.” You aren’t used to seeing this face. It’s almost emotionless. You start to picture this face carrying out his murderous intentions. But there's a crack in his psychopathic mask. There's a hint of softness and anguish at the sight of you.
“I don't.. I don't want to leave.” You take a hold of his hand, still shaking and clearly unsure of your words. You hear a soft hiss leave his lips, clearly trying to conceal his reaction to the unexpected. “I don’t want you to be in jail- or.. I suppose I don't want you to be caught..?” You groan, holding tightly onto his hand. “I’m so confused, Alastor. I want things to be normal. I want to go back to when you cooked for me, and.. And go back to planning- o-our elopement…” You let out weakly. He doesn't respond at first, you force your eyes up to meet his. He looks heartbroken at the sight of you.
“I just want to pretend that none of this happened..Please, stop this. F-for me, please don't do this anymore.” Your voice becomes a whisper. His hesitation only makes it all worse. He responds once he feels your grip on him loosen.
“Okay- okay. I’ll clean up this mess, and- I’ll stop. For you.” You manage to give him a weak smile, before resting your head against his chest. After holding you for a moment he settles you into bed after you had essentially fallen asleep in his arms. He does as promised. Mostly. He cleans up the mess at least.
The next morning, you wake up and hope everything that happened before a nightmare. But, you feel his robe still wrapped around you, then notice Alastor’s side of the bed empty. It's real then. It was too vivid. And if it's real.. Then he’s stopping. Because of you. It’s almost touching.
You go on about your day, and he greets you as if nothing is wrong, making your breakfast as usual. He’s chipper and goes on to chat about his plans for today. He’s pretending that nothing went on. How often has he done this? Convincingly pretend that he didn't take a life less than twelve hours ago?
It takes you a few days. A few months.. years, actually. To accept what he had done. You never forgave him, but you accepted it. You had to go on and enjoy your newly wedded life together, didn't you? Alastor had a broadcast to work on, an audience to appease, and you had to work as a physician, helping locals from within their homes. Besides, he stopped the murders after you caught him that one awful night, didn't he?
Didn't he?
Police are at your door. A nightmare of a sight. You open it, putting on your best face. It wasn't as easy as it used to be, but your smile still convinced the public. Leaning against the open door and batting your lashes you greet them sweetly. your face instantly fell to their words. You almost hoped that he had gotten caught. But he didn't.
He's dead.
“Shot in the woods, ma’am. A hunter mistook him for a deer in the dark.” you'd recall these words later, but for now, your ears were ringing and your mind was absent. You thanked them and shut the door.
You can't recall how loudly you screamed and sobbed, or for how long that went on. You need to be held. You need him to hold you and that only pains you more. You mourned for days, canceling appointments, and not answering any guests who were there to offer empty condolences. You rotted in his home. He was so young. You were both so young, there was so much to look forward to in your future. It's all gone now.
The first place you went to was Mimzy's bar. A few months had passed, and all your good liquor had run out. Plus, a familiar face could be a good change of pace right now.
“Oh, hun!” An immediate greeting at the door, Mimzy brings you to the bar. It's a late night on a workday, it was essentially empty. “I'm so sorry for your loss. Everyone in town is worried bout ya! I'm sure you don't wanna hear this, but how are you doin'?” She was right. You didn't want to hear that. You hated that question.
“Fine.” You say squeakly. It was the first word you had spoken in weeks, you realize. She slides you your drink and you immediately down it. She tops it off just for it to be finished off even faster than the last.
“Slow down, hun.” She says, sliding a glass of water to you next. When you drink it thoughtlessly, the absence of alcohol has you scrunching your nose. “I'm sure this isn't the best time, but.. I got somethin’ for ya.” She disappears into some backroom before reapproaching you and your barely touched glass of water. She places an enveloped letter in your hand. Your name written in neat cursive fills its front and your hands start to shake.
“It's from Al. He wanted me to give this to ya. If he ever.. well, if this ever happened.” as she's speaking, you've already opened it and begun reading.
It was instructions. And a large wad of cash. Above the instructions, A small blurb about how sorry he was, how much he loved you, and prayed that you'd never have to read this. Then a list of how to thoroughly clean and dispose of all evidence in his shed.
“Did you know?” you ask Mimzy, your hands crinkling on each side of the letter. She nods. “He never stopped, did he?” You say in a hushed tone, mainly in disbelief to yourself.
“Well- not exactly, no. he was finishing somethin' up in the forest that one night.” Mimzy talks as if she's practiced this conversation. He must've kept her up to date with all this.
“He told me he would stop. He said he was doing it for me-” You grip at your heart, letting out a shaky breath.
“What important is that he loved ya, right? He was an equal opportunity killer, hun, he only did what he had to. It was for the greater good, ya know?” Mimzy was speaking far too calmly about this. you let out a flurry of curses, shoving the crumpled-up instructions into your purse before standing at the bar.
“You're all fucking psychopaths!” You yell out to the empty bar and leave the building in a huff. 
You needed to leave town. The two people you were closest to were both criminals. And being in this house was only hurting you more. You packed as much as you could, hand hovering over the phone to call for a taxi. You freeze in place. Then see your ring. You look at it for a moment, the light giving it a beautiful shine. With a defeated sigh, you set your bags aside and pull the instructions back out from your purse, straightening it out as best you could.
After finishing a very thorough cleaning, and questioning your actions through it all, you did everything on the list. You burned the letter alongside some other items that he told you to dispose of. You still aren't sure why you did it. He was never caught before and he must have cleaned up his job in the forest before getting shot. Maybe it was for the best. Let his radio persona live on. Let it be the last nice thing you ever do for him. You finally leave that hellhole behind.
-
You went on to live another sixty years, quite a feat if you must admit. You weren't much of a religious person, so passing in your sleep and waking up in the streets of Pentagram City, was a bit of a shock. After accepting the idea of an afterlife, you put the little details together. You were sure after all that went down in your youth, you would end up here. And if you're here, then maybe..
There are more important things right now. Lucky for you, you fell right in the middle of a bustling street. You scramble to your feet and quickly escape the speeding cars. Why were there cars in Hell? Why did it look so much like a big city you would visit at some point, how is it so human? There was so much to question, but you were desperate to find any sort of sanctuary.
You weren't sure why your first thought was to find the nearest bar, but something seemed to bring you in. You're almost disappointed in yourself for stepping into a club decorated as a 20s speakeasy. But it was familiar- nostalgic. A shrill voice draws your attention.
"Oh my stars! Get over here, doll!" The shriek brings your attention to the bar, where a slightly familiar face greets you. “What are ya gawkin’ at? It’s me! Mimzy? Get that tail over here!” Mimzy owns a club even in Hell? You approach her after some more beckoning.
"Long time no see! How long you been in?" She goes on. You observe her appearance as she speaks. She looks almost the same. The red eyes and sharp teeth were definitely new. You realize you hadn't had the chance to take in your own appearance, but clearly, it must've been similar enough for her to recognize you. Still questioning your position, you finally process her words.
"Oh- I just arrived actually. Lucky me to walk straight into your bar, hm?" You lean against the counter as she pours you a drink, a flurry of trauma and nostalgia turns to confusion.
"Wow! You had quite a life after old Al got you outta town, didn't ya?” She teased. You let out a nervous chuckle. Good old Al. You haven't thought about him in years. You were so young, so head over heels for this man you barely knew. You somehow managed to suppress all the bad times as you aged. Mimzy notices your face droop a bit.
"I suppose I did.." a brief smile meets the wedding band still on your hand.
"Well? Finally gonna reunite? Ooh! How romantic! You'll have to update me, sweetie!" Mimzy bats at you, letting out an excited giggle. You quickly shake your head, not processing any other way to respond.
"I-I can't- I mean.. Not after everything he’s done.” Your hands clench at even the thought.
“Sorry to break it to ya, but we’re all for a reason. You got plenty of time to forgive him, with the whole eternal punishment of it all.” Mimzy’s tone drops to a more serious one as if she’s heard that line before. “Not everyone’s lucky enough to rot in Hell with someone they love, you should see what he’s up to!” Her tone seems to immediately switch to something more chipper.
“Still, I uh.. I shouldn't. He’s been dead for so long, I’m sure he’s got some other dame cleaning up his messes.” Excuses. You didn't want to see him, because this is his fault. You're here because you helped clean up his space after his unfortunate death. Even when you had no idea, he relied on you. He trusted you to carry this burden for the rest of your life. Your rage was suppressed when you heard Mimzy's voice chime back in.
"Nope! He's been busy with uh.. his work. Still wears the ring, though~" She hums, tapping her finger to emphasize her words. You look down at your own hand. Why did you still wear yours, again? You never remarried, but mainly because of the trust issues that were instilled in you for the rest of your life. Maybe it wouldn't be a terrible idea..
“N-No, I just cant..” You let out louder than you meant to. Mimzy shrugs off your panic. “You wouldn’t happen to have a spare room, would you, Mimzy?”
-
Mimzy did in fact have a spare room. You stayed in one of the ratty rooms about the bar, alongside some of the demons that rented the rooms for their own business. You realized, after finding a mirror, that you were portrayed with some feline features, nothing too disfiguring. Once you saw your new form, Alastor’s voice, every single time he beckoned you with kitten, rang throughout your mind. You couldn't bring yourself to look at yourself for the first few months. This was Hell after all. Eternal punishment can manifest in several ways.
Mimzy was still a clear supporter of Alastor, so she had a radio set up in your room already. No matter how hard you tried, you realize pretty early on that Alastor had some power over the radios that force his broadcasts to be the only thing streaming. You heard it all. The screams of souls being torn apart, his constant gossiping and cruel words making fun of other demons.
But damn, if it didn't feel like living again. Waking up every morning to the sound of his voice on the radio, before you can truly decipher what he’s talking about, it almost feels like a normal life. But then you hear the pain in those demons that he’s mercilessly tearing up. Sometimes, you see Mimzy cheering at the radio like some sports game is being narrated. You try to avoid her when she’s doing that.
Things were comfortable for many years. As comfortable as Hell can be, at least. Alastor became a distant part of your daily routine, you'd hear his broadcasts all the time, but only in addition to the other bustling city noises. It all seemed to cancel out after a while. You worked with Mimzy, picking up at the bar when she had to run off. In exchange, you stayed in that room indefinitely. You two seemed to become friends again, despite your living history. It became clear to you that what happened when you were alive really didn't matter down here. You all made the same degree of mistakes and you all learned that you’re here for the same reasons.
You went through extermination days as best you could, only having one face-to-face interaction. That day, you were already on the verge of death from falling debris and trying to escape a specifically insistent exorcist. She had you cornered. You shut your eyes, wincing at the upcoming angelic weapon you saw her raise at you. Only feeling a slight sting across the bridge of your nose and cheek, you open your eyes to see her flying back towards the portal to heaven. You can't believe you got that lucky. You’re still in disbelief at the entire scenario, but unlike most wounds down here, your face was permanently scarred. It was small, barely noticeable! Mimzy says.
But you knew not everyone had this much luck on extermination day. After noticing the silence on the streets, during the most recent extermination, you nervously left the bar. Everything was empty. The portal had opened closer to that hotel you’d heard of. And the exorcists were going straight to it. You scoffed, walking back into the bar. They’d finish off those demons there quickly, so you still wanted to hide. As you barred yourself up in your room, you remembered Mimzy telling you about her visit to that hotel. About why she visited the hotel. Alastor's there. You try to not panic. It’s been decades, why are you worried about him? Besides you know how powerful he is, you've picked up his whole radio demon shtick from others. He’ll be fine.
Then why are you so restless?
A loud knocking at your door shakes your entire core. You keep yourself hauled up in the corner of your room, covering your ears and squeezing your eyes shut. You still hear a voice call your name from the other side of the door.
“You gotta come see this! The angels are gone!” It's Mimzy. it's far earlier than usual, you were almost worried it was some new tactic they picked up. You crack the door open just slightly, and her small frame pummeled the door open. She paces your room, rambling words that you barely catch, and she shoves her phone to your face. You have to take it from her shaking hands to get a glimpse. It's hard to see, but it's very obviously footage of Alastor fighting Adam. His body is warped through the drone’s camera, and you watch him fade away into nothingness after one blow. There was no audio, You couldn't hear what happened. Considering you weren't familiar with his shadow antics, you had no idea what actually happened to him.
“You gotta find out if he's okay! I can't go back to that hotel, you gotta do it!” she sounds frantic, taking her phone back. “What? Absolutely not! I'm sure he's fine.” You wave your hand dismissively, despite the hesitance in your voice. Everyone's in Hell for the same reasons. Your mind goes back and forth on the possibility of forgiveness.. of mending burned bridges.
“The videos from a few hours ago, those angels are gone! Ooh.. He's just gotta be okay..” You didn't realize how much Mimzy actually appreciated Alastor. Whether it be the protection he offers or their actual friendship, you aren't sure. But she's clearly worried about him. You just aren't ready.
Mimzy spent the next few days begging you to go down there and find him. And you refused every time. She mentioned going to Cannibal Town to visit his "Gal Pal" and even she hadn't heard from him. He's disappeared before, just recently too, You're sure it was just like his last seven-year absence. Even if you were getting a bit worried, you'd never admit it. There were no broadcasts, there was no public trash-talking from the Vees, it was just.. quiet.
“Didn't you love him?” You stare at Mimzy, in disbelief that she just said that.
“Excuse me?” That seemed to strike a nerve. And maybe she meant to do that.
“I remember you two in my bar, you were two peas in a pod! I've never seen him like that with any gal, hun. That's not somethin' that just goes away.” Mimzy takes your hand from across the bar. “Please, go check on him. Maybe it'll be like a final hurrah, but I just gotta know if he's okay.” You look around the room as if someone would offer to go in your place. But she's right. And you'd be lying if you said you weren't missing his broadcasts. You let out a dejected sigh.
“Okay.. okay! Fine.” You huff. An immediate change in attitude, Mimzy lets out an excited exclamation and pours the two of you drinks, to celebrate her pushy victory.
-
You take in a deep breath, looking around the new hotel's exterior. It was much larger than the previous one and more lavish. You hesitate before knocking on the door. A series of whispered voices, then scrambling feet, follow the door opening. It's the princess of Hell. You weren't expecting Alastor to greet you, but you still feel a bit disappointed.
“Hello! Welcome to the Hazbin Ho-” You quickly interrupt.
“No! Nono, sorry.” You laugh Nervously. “I'm not here for the whole.. redemption thing. Is.. uh…” You peek around her shoulder, seeing a few demons you recognize from the commercial, but no Alastor.
“Is the radio demon here..?” You finally ask quietly. Charlie still seems a little hurt from the interruption, but just because you're not interested in redemption doesn't mean she won't try to convince you.
“Alastor? Sure! He's been in his tower since we reopened.. So, he's probably up there.” She explains, pulling you into the building despite your refusal. “I can go get him for you! What's your name? I'll tell him who-”
"That's actually okay! I was sent to check up on him, so.. if he's alive, then that's all I need to hear!” Mimzy will just have to be satisfied with that. You're chickening out. If they're saying he's fine, then that's good enough for you. The longer you're here, the more anxious you're becoming. You're worried he could pop out of nowhere. Which is a legitimate concern apparently. 
“Charlie!” A greeting comes from behind the blonde, and you see a red-clawed hand engulf her shoulder. “Already a new resident? How exciting! What unfortunate sinner has found themselves here as a last resort.. today…” 
You know that voice. Of course, you know that voice. He looks fairly similar to how he did when he was alive, the hair was new. Ditto the antlers. A deer? They turned him into a deer down here? You almost want to laugh. Maybe being in Hell for so long has turned your sense of humor that crude. You're staring with wide eyes. He whispers your name so quietly that all you can really take in is his lips forming the word.
“Hey, Al! She was just looking for you! I think she might be worried, right?” 
Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up-
“I.. was! But I see he’s clearly fine now, so! I should get back to Mimzy’s-” 
“Mimzy? You're with that trainwreck?” a low voice comes from the bar, interrupting the conversation. The cat demon behind the counter scoffs at you. “Nice ears.” They fold down involuntarily from embarrassment.
“Kitten.” You immediately turn at the sound of Alastor’s voice, shivers thoroughly covering your body. He opens his mouth as if to say something, but it clamps shut. His eyes widen for a moment, looking around the room to see how almost every resident had gathered to witness the new face. You start to back away to the door.
“This may not have been the best idea.. T-thank you, princess, it was nice meeting you.” with a blink of your eye, Alastor’s arm is around your shoulder. 
“Why of course! Thank you for visiting! I'll escort you out!” His chipper attitude startles you, and you feel almost insulted by his eagerness to have you leave.
“Oh! Well.. come back anytime! Our doors are always open!” You hear Charlie call out as Alastor takes you outside the building. Before you even have a chance to protest, you're suddenly in a recording room. Your mouth is still open ready to scold him, but instead, you examine the dizzying change in scenery. Your eyes finally drop to Alastor, who had taken both your shoulders and let his head drop from your view. He startles to mumble.
“W-What are you-”
“Why didn't you tell me you were here?” His head finally lifts and you catch his perplexed expression. Pained eyes paired with a strained smile, it's almost frightening.
“W-Well, I.. it was just-” 
“When did you arrive?”
“A few.. decades ago..?”
“Decades?” His voice goes low and static. You pull away from his grasp as his voice changes. “You shouldn't be here. There has to be a mistake.” His voice returns to normal, and he starts to pace the room. Mumbling more nonsense to himself, he starts gripping at his hair. 
You watch this for a while, before finally approaching him. You take hold of his arm, effectively stopping him in place. Pulling down his arm, you feel the grasp on his hair loosen.
“Calm down. You're pulling your hair out, again.” You say softly, brushing his hand clean of stray hairs he had torn out. Reaching forward you attempt to brush his hair back into place. Your hand pauses, hovering just by his cheek. You want to hold him. He seems to follow your hand when you decide to quickly distance yourself.
His eyes look bloodshot and demonic. How could you still possibly be getting lost in them?
“You shouldn't be here, kitten. You’re here because of me.” You flinch at his words, despite how true they are, you manage to feel some underlying guilt.
“Yeah.. Mimzy just wanted to know if you were alright. And you seem just fine. I should go.” You say bluntly, taking hold of your arms and going towards the door.
“Why didn't you find me?” His words cause you to stop.
“Sorry, you weren't exactly the first thing on my mind when I woke up in Hell.”
“Kitten, I-” His voice seems to drop the radio static. It sounds entirely too familiar.
“-don't call me that.” You snap, biting at your lip unconsciously.
“I'm sorry.” He finally says. “It was.. irresponsible of me to lie to you. I made a mistake.” He sounds more embarrassed to admit he messed up. His ego makes you scoff.
“Yes, it was irresponsible. It was downright cruel, Alastor. I had to live with the burden of your murders and had to die with the consequences.” You turn back to face him, a rage that had been boiling for decades finally spilling over. “I did so much good after you died. It has to be your fault I'm here. I never told the cops, I followed your ridiculous instructions, and it was the worst decision of my life! And now I'm paying for it. For being too far in love to realize that you were just using me!” You've had this conversation in your head so many times, that you have no issue saying exactly what you want.
“No!" He stops himself before he can shout anything else. "I assure you, that isn't the case at all. I love you more than I can put into words, kitten, can't we just-” Alastor reaches his hand out to you and you quickly lean away. You spot the ring on his finger.
“Love? You used me to make sure your record stayed clean! That's not love.” You hiss.
“I did it to protect you. I gave you everything you needed to remove yourself from the situation if anything were to happen to me. You said you went on to do good, and I believe you. That was because of me! The letter and the money were both for your safety- I was helping you.” He isn’t exactly shouting, but his tone is certainly sending chills down your spine.
“You don't get to take credit for my life! I should have never come!” You fling your arms up, turning back to the door. He grabs your arm and turns you back to him, a tight grip on your shoulders. He opens his mouth to seemingly scold you, and you're ready to bite back. You notice him scanning over your facial features, and his expression seems to falter.
“What happened to you?” He runs a clawed finger delicately across the scar on your cheek. It had faded but was still visible. You wince at his touch, which makes him pull his hand back.
“Oh, don't act like you care.” You mumble.
“Of course, I care.” His soft response forces a pained groan from your lips. 
“All these sweet words you’re saying.. I-I don’t know what to think with that ridiculous smile.. I can't take you seriously!” Your voice is beginning to crack, losing the strength to have this go on.
“About that-”
“I hate you.” He flinches at your words, Out of everything you’ve said, you don't understand why that seems to silence him. He grips onto his chest, his coat and shirt scrunching into his fist. You watch him drop his head, bracing himself on his desk that he had stumbled to. You’re sure he’s being dramatic. Hamming it up to get some sort of pity. A sigh passes your lips.
“Um.. Alastor… I didn't mean to-” His act only fools you a little bit. You wonder if you’ve let out too much steam. If he really-
Before you can finish any other thoughts, he collapses to the floor.
“Fuck-” You quickly move to his side, flipping him to his back and helping him at least prop himself up against a wall. “Should I get-”
“Don't tell the others.” He breathes out, putting his hand up dismissively. With the wave of his hand, you see the blood across his palm. Your eyes follow the source to a continuously growing stain on his top. The sight of blood didn't seem to bother you after everything. “Just help me up.” 
“O-Okay.” You do as he says, helping him stand. Almost feeling like an instinct, you pull his coat off of his shoulders. He struggles to keep up with the movement but still gives in. He quickly loses his strength and stumbles to the small couch nearby. You almost enjoy watching him stubbornly refuse your help.
“I.. might require.. some assistance.” He says it so softly you almost want to ask him to repeat himself. Even if you understood him just fine.
“You're asking for help?” You correct him, placing your hands on your hips.
“I don't need help.” He snaps. You would've been offended if you knew he was just to flustered to admit it.
“Then what do you need?” You sit beside him on the couch, placing your hand on his blood-stained shirt. He immediately winces.
“For.. you to stitch this up.” You start unbuttoning his shirt, your hands grazing the fluff of his chest with a mild curiosity. You finally get the full scope of a completely untreated slash that would've surely killed any human if left untreated. But for an almost immortal demon, it was just a painful nuisance. Very painful.
“From your fight with… You want me to help you stitch this up?” You ask because that it seems near impossible to do so, even with someone of your medical history. It's wide and seems to be covered with specks of gold. It feels like small shards of glass when you swipe your hand over him.
“.. yes.” He says quietly. You let out a breathy chuckle, shaking your head at him. He’s reckless, too stubborn to have looked at the wound because of its reminder of his defeat. And you know that's exactly why it got this bad. No matter how small, Alastor sees the smile growing on you.
“I missed your smile.” He says softly.
“Please stop saying things like that.. You're confusing me.” You make sure to speak your words quietly as if you don't want them to be heard. A small demonic creature rushes to your side, holding a tray up with the essentials to properly treat the slash. It stays perfectly still once in your reach.
You went to work, after some proper scolding, trying your best to keep the process as painless as possible. Every so often, you wonder why you are being so careful with him. He doesn't deserve your tenderness. Your thoughts are stopped when you see his hand wrap around your wrist, pulling you away. His face is scrunched, a hiss passing by his tormented smile. You must've hit the wrong spot while lost in thought. Your eyes fall to his ring, again.
“Why did you keep this on?” You ask, examining his hand that’s still engulfing your wrist.
“It reminds me of you. And yours?” His voice is hushed, still recovering from the pain. You realize he has a full view of your own hand, your wedding band sitting just as clear to him.
“It.. reminds me of what you did to me.” You hear a quiet groan in response to your words, and he releases your arm, gripping the couch in its stead. You keep going.
“I'll admit, I was worried about you.. after the battle with Adam. Maybe it was Mimzy getting me all worked up..” You finally admit. You don’t want him to think you’ve spent your whole life and death hating him. But why would it matter either way?
“I can't be killed, you had nothing to worry about.” He replies, not willing to comment on your sudden vulnerability. Not in this position. All you can do is laugh at him. He's clearly talking out his ass.
“Looks like you got pretty close to it.” You scoff. His ears flatten, and he looks away like a stubborn child.
You finish up after an hour. It felt much longer. The silence with quiet quips mixed in, the surprisingly intimate moment, it was suffocatingly uncomfortable.
“I didn't want to come here. I was perfectly content in being in Hell. I didn't expect this form of torture.” You say, setting everything back onto the little tray presented to you. That little demon had been standing there this whole time. You notice it started shaking a while ago.
“Come now, you're being dramatic. You chose to find me, did you not?” He says, sitting a bit taller with the regained strength.
“I'm not being dramatic! You try to avoid Mimzy's constant nagging! I hear your voice everywhere, see all the ads for this hotel, and they made me a damn cat, Alastor!” You feel yourself starting to lose your composure, gripping your hair and letting out a pained laughter. “H-how unfair is that..?” You let out a weak chuckle, feeling tears well in your eyes. He pulls your hand away from your hair, brushing his thumb across your ring as he holds you for a moment longer.
“Completely unfair. Your appearance may be.. unappealing … to you, but your face is still the same. Your eyes still bright as usual, your smile just as sweet.” His sincerity is muddling your thoughts. Those thoughts that warn you he’s hurt you before. And now he’s a cruel overlord, he’ll hurt you again tenfold. You feel his thumb drag along your lip after realizing you had leaned in towards him.
“Still biting your lip, hm?” His static fades again, and you wince at the raw skin he's brushing over. Old habits apparently don’t die hard.
“N-nervous tick, I guess..” His closeness leaves you a bit breathless.
“Do I make you nervous?” His tone confuses you. There’s an underlying sense of worry, a genuine concern for your well-being. But you’re still distracted by his strange smile. You don’t have much time to think any further about it before you’re startled by gentle lips against yours. It’s quick but is more than enough to let out a flood of feelings you’ve been suppressing since the day you left your hometown. He looks at you with a sly smile on his face.
“I’m still mad at you.” You say quietly.
“I know.” He kisses you, again.
“Y-You don’t have to-” He interrupts you with another kiss.
“I know.” Still holding your face you barely take in his next words with a clear head. “I miss you.” Another kiss, just to throw you off this time, “I miss having you at my side.
Stay.. please.”
There was no way you would drop everything to live with a man you were barely married to in life. That didn't stop you from seeing him more, though. You were actually.. kind of glad to see him. To patch things up, even just a little. You’d visit, sneaking around at first to avoid any interaction from the other residents of the hotel. They were all more than intimidating to you. Especially considering one of them was the king of Hell. Alastor was more than happy to keep you away from him, though.
You updated Mimzy on how he was when you left that first night, but you left out the unimportant bits.. Like the giant angelic slash across his chest. You didn’t need Alastor to tell you that you shouldn't be going around spreading that information. A true accomplice. When Mimzy noticed you were visiting him to the point where you couldn't cover the bar when she needed you to, she was more than happy to kick you out. You knew exactly what she was doing. She didn't want you homeless, but you were essentially left with nowhere to go. Except for the hotel.
It wasn’t the worst thing to happen.. Things almost seemed normal. Alastor had lots of sucking up to do, even though he wouldn't call it that. He was definitely working at it. Making you breakfast like before, treating you like even higher royalty than he ever could while alive. He has the power to do so now and he fully intends to use it. And it’s working.. A little bit.
Okay, a lot.
You’re shocked that he still seems the same after becoming the powerful overlord he is. You’d love to convince yourself that none of that mattered, his status in Hell or what happened when you were alive. That you could just forget mortality to look forward to the potential future facing you. It’s easier said than done.
You're still struggling with your nightmares. Even more so in Hell, likely another form of punishment. Something about the hotel seemed to subdue some of them actually. As if the air were clearer here. It only helped most nights, though. Whenever you woke up in a cold sweat, struggling to breathe, clutching at your heart, there was only one thing to calm you. The radio at your nightstand would play a specific song. One that Mimzy was fond of, so you heard it most nights at her bar on Earth. Whenever you heard that, you knew he was there. He was waiting for you.
"Birdy?" You knock on his door, which seems to open slowly just from your touch. Alastor is sitting contently in front of his firepit. This wasn't the first time you've found him in the middle of the night.
"Another one, my love?" He tilts his head up slightly, the book he had in his hand shutting immediately. You nod your head slowly, already approaching him. Your blanket still wrapped around your shoulders is dragging across the ground. You give him a look he recognizes, and he nods at the implications. Without caution, you let out a tired whimper and plop into his lap. He pulls the blanket over your entirety.
Getting completely comfortable, he adjusts his arms to pull his book back to his eyeline. With your head nuzzled against his shoulder, you're too tired to conceal your little habit of purring. He doesn't mind, though. He loves it.
♡♡♡
Another big boy for ya 🫶
Human Alastor is really fun to write for, I had to do some research tho lol
I tried to keep Alastor's sexuality in mind, so I hope I represented it well. That's always something that makes me nervous when writing for Al 😬
Taglist!
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cillianhead · 8 months
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Heeyy, love your work💜 aaand I was wondering could you write dad's Bestfriend! Cillian and how your dad keeps asking Cillian to go on a double date with him and his wife since he's been single for a while, but Cillian doesn't want to and (you're at your house) or then somehow you and him end up in the same place later and talk about it? one of you confesses they're glad he didn't go cos they had feelings for the other and then things get heated 😉😉
Sorry if it's all over the place, I have so many little ideas in my brain rn lol
Thank you☺️
Thank you so much for your request, I've literally been thinking sooooo much about the idea of Dad's BestFriend! Cillian and how I wanted to write about it, I hope this is what you were looking for!
Enjoy <3
Illicit Affairs || Dad's BestFriend! Cillian Murphy x Reader
warnings: SMUT, age gap (Cillian is in his 40s, reader is in her 20s), taboo relationship, unprotected P in V, oral sex (f receiving), a bit angsty, having to hide their relationship, jealousy, some homophobic comments I guess?? (not from Cillian), general adult content!! (Cillian isn't an actor/famous in this also he moved to America... in this!) (Also this fic is quite long... so that's a warning!)
18+ Minors DNI
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Cillian Murphy was that charming Irish man who lived just down your street. He had moved there around five or six years ago, you couldn't really remember, it was when you were just seventeen. He had moved here in the hopes of getting away from his ex-wife back in Ireland and starting over. Your dad was incredibly welcoming to him when he first moved in and they quickly became good buddies. Your dad was into sports and drinking beer, cooking out on the grill, and all that classic dad stuff. Cillian enjoyed that stuff too but he was much more into the arts than your dad ever could be. You two bonded over that. Cillian taught you how to play guitar, you'd write songs together, you'd go to concerts of bands you both liked.
Now you were twenty-four, in your last year of college and Cillian was still around, you still got together and went to concerts or played the guitar together every now and then, though you were more busy now and so was he. You'd had a crush on him ever since you had laid your eyes on him but you understood why it was wrong, understood why he was off limits. You couldn't help but grow jealous though when you'd see him bring home women every now and then and then see them leaving in the morning. It wasn't an occasion that happened often but it got on your nerves regardless, you knew you had no right to feel that way. But it still made you feel sick to your stomach.
Of course, you'd had a couple of boyfriends, none of them were all that serious. You hated yourself for comparing them to him, knowing no man could ever compare to the man that Cillian is. Your dad was oblivious to your (not-so) little crush. You had to keep it that way, not that anything was ever going to happen between you but you knew your dad would be uncomfortable with the idea of you having a crush on one of his best buddies.
"Cillian's comin' over tonight, Y/N." Your dad popped his head into your room, you just nodded and smiled before he left. You still lived at home since you studied not too far from home, your parents were more than happy to let you live there for as long as you needed but you had plans of moving out soon, as soon as you graduated.
"Thanks, Dad... I already know that." You chuckled. Your mom was downstairs cooking dinner and you had also received text messages from the man himself, earlier that day informing you he was coming over, so you were very much aware that he was coming over.
Cillian: Can't wait to see you. It's been a while, kid. xxx
You'd read the message over and over and over again. Your heart fluttered each time you did so. You hated how he called you 'kid', you were a grown woman, you weren't a kid anymore. You really hated it because you knew you didn't hate it. In fact, the nickname made you all shy and giggly, it made you like him even more.
It was around six when your mom called out for you that dinner was ready. You had tried your best to look nice, for whatever reason that may be. It wasn't anything too crazy or too dressy but it was definitely nicer than how you'd normally dress when you had guests over. A small black skirt that was a bit risky with how short it was but you could definitely get away with wearing it and a tight long-sleeved black shirt, tucked into it. You could hear chattering from the dining room, the sound of Cillian's chortling made you smile as you entered the room to find yourself meeting the back of the head of an unfamiliar blonde woman, sitting next to Cillian, and making him laugh. Your smile had dropped.
"Oh, sweetie!" Your mom waved you over to the table, the food had been served, both parents sitting on either end of the table while you had to sit and face Cillian and this strange blonde lady. Was this his girlfriend? You knew it had been around a month or so since you'd last seen him but surely he hadn't gotten a girlfriend in such a short amount of time. "This is Cassandra... we've been friends since college, I thought it would be nice to introduce her to Cillian... I've always said how I thought they'd get along."
You just nodded politely, looking Cillian in the eyes to see the discomfort staring back at you. Cassandra was beaming, as any woman should be if she sat beside Cillian, you just glared as you prepared your plate of food. You remained civil, of course, nodding along to things being said and laughing extra hard at jokes your dad tried to make. But you couldn't get rid of the big fat elephant in the room, Cassandra. She was pretty enough, with long blonde hair (obviously bleached, you thought), and makeup done elegantly but it was a bit much. Lip fillers to the max and smooth botox-filled skin. But the thing was... her perfume was obnoxiously loud for a smell. It filled the room like someone had bombed the place with perfume-scented grenades and it absolutely ruined the food. You don't know how Cillian could just sit there, breathing in her perfume without vomiting all over the place. You were sitting across the table and it was horrible, practically on the verge of a migraine, how bad must it be having to sit right next to her?
You scolded yourself silently for trying to put down this woman in your head. She hadn't done anything wrong except breathe near Cillian. It wasn't her fault you had some sort of weird jealousy issues when it came to him.
"...What... what do you do for work, Cassandra?" Cillian asked politely before taking a bite from his fork, looking at Cassandra with genuine interest. That made your gut churn.
"Oh... well I actually work for the Catholic church just around the corner," Cassandra smiled. "I actually go around... um... telling people about Catholicism and its benefits, trying to get them to join." You took a sip of your wine with a cheeky grin on your face as you saw Cillian's discomfort with her response. You knew fully well he had no issue with people practicing religion but you knew how he felt for people to go around and shove their beliefs down people's throats. With the slightest bit of alcohol running through your veins, you found some courage to feign interest in her line of 'work'.
"That's really interesting, Cassie," You hummed delightfully, your parents looked over at you cautiously. You knew you had crossed a line by calling her 'Cassie'. "What are your thoughts on gay people?" The room went silent. The drop of a pin could be heard.
Her face went beet red at this question. Your mom gave you a disappointed look before faking a smile. Cillian looked amused before turning to Cassandra, everyone waiting for her response.
"I... erm...." She was looking around the room. Now maybe you had guessed wrong, maybe she was totally fine with gay people but you had a feeling her answer was going to be the complete opposite of that. "I think... if someone wishes... to live that lifestyle... then they should... keep it to themselves..." You cringed at that response. "I think God... I think God would not approve of... that sort of lifestyle." Bazinga. Cillian was immediately put off.
"I didn't realize you spoke for God himself." Cillian chuckled as he looked down into his glass of wine with that mischievous smile that mirrored your own. The two of you giggled at each other, Cillian seemed sort of relieved in a way that he didn't have to deal with this bozo of a woman anymore and your jealousy had disappeared along with the food on your plate.
Eventually, Cassandra left hurriedly. Your mom scolded you for being rude but you just shrugged it off. Cillian stuck around to hang out with your dad as you and your mom cleaned the dishes, you could hear them chattering on the back porch, probably about the latest baseball game or your dad trying to convince Cillian to come over one day for a barbecue.
"Go bring these to your father and Cillian, sweetie." Your mom hands a pack of beer which you take carefully as you nod.
Walking out to the back veranda, Cillian sat with a cigarette in between his lips. How could someone be so pretty? You sat the beers down on the small coffee table before turning back around to keep helping your mom but were quickly stopped by Cillian's hands curling around your wrist. Electric jolts ran through you with his touch. "Why don't you join us, kid?" Cillian hummed.
"Alright." You politely sat down beside him, he sat in between you and your father. It was a lovely summer's night, the crickets chirped and the sun was only just setting at almost nine at night. It was quiet and peaceful and warm. Cillian's presence especially helped provide that atmosphere.
You tucked your legs up into your chest, you and Cillian occasionally sharing glances at each other while your dad and he continued to talk about subjects that didn't capture your interest. Every time he looked at you, you felt like you could explode, his eyes so captivating and simply electrifying. "Here, love." Cillian passed the cigarette over to you, and you took a small drag. Your dad gave you a disapproving look but shook it off as you passed it back, letting out the bellowing smoke from the chambers of your lungs and mouth.
"Weird seein' my little girl smoking a cigarette," Your father grumbled, cracking open a cold one and handing it over to Cillian. "S'not right, you've grown up too fast." While he opened himself a beer, Cillian laid his eyes on you, sucking in the thick smoke of his fag.
You just rolled your eyes at your father's comment. "If it makes you feel better... the only time I have ever smoked a cigarette is when I've been around Cillian." You giggled, looking over at Cillian to see him tilting his head at you, playfully nudging you.
"Hey," He whispered. "Don't dob me in, kid!" His voice was low and husky, you felt yourself squeeze a little at the tremor his tone caused.
Grasping your lip in between your bottom lip you just shook your head as you leaned your head against the wall of the house, staring out at the sunset. You sat out there for a little while, sharing puffs of the cigarette with Cillian until your dad got up, grumbling somethin' about how he was going to help your mother. Leaving you and Cillian alone together. Alone.
"Your parents are pretty eager to hook me up with someone," Cillian said, breaking the silence between you.
"Yeah?" You sucked in a breath.
"Yeah," He took a sip of his beer, setting it down on the table before stretching an arm back and laying it behind you, his hand gently resting on your shoulder. You were flustered, being so close to him, in this sort of dim lighting. "Apparently, I'm goin' out this Saturday to go on a double date wit' your folks... and some woman named Naomi."
You bit back a scowl. "Oh... that's nice..." You lied through your teeth, Cillian just let out an amused huff. It gave off the impression he was irritated with something but you couldn't quite pick up on why he would be annoyed. He wanted you to stand up and tell him to stay, to tell him to be with you instead, he wanted you to be angry, he thought.
You knew who Naomi was. She worked with your dad, you had met her a few times. She was incredibly bright, charming, and nonetheless beautiful, ageing gracefully. Cillian and her were going to get along quite well, in fact, you felt yourself grow sad over the fact they would probably flourish as a couple. You and Cillian sat in silence for a little while longer, you didn't know what else to say. You felt ashamed that this wasn't just a crush you had, you harbored genuine and strong feelings for him that you knew he could never reciprocate. It was wrong. But how could you not want to be with him? He was the best man you'd ever met. Cillian was kind, he understood your silence, and he made you laugh until your ribs hurt. He comforted you like no other, without even trying and god... he was magnetic, the most handsome man you'd ever seen.
"She's not the woman I'm interested in though," Cillian groused, his fingers fiddling with the sleeve of your shirt, his thumb occasionally brushing over the bare skin on your shoulder. You turned your head to look at him with a frown. His face perfectly aligned with yours, hot breath on your face, his pale blue eyes lit up by the rising moon. You could kiss him at that moment... but you wouldn't. You shouldn't. "Y/N..." He took in a deep breath, and your heart raced, it seemed like he was about to confess something. "I..."
"Come on! Let me walk ya home!" Your dad stepped out, and you immediately hopped up and out of the seat, not wanting your dad to see the close proximity you and Cillian were in, not that anything was happening between you two. Not that your dad would see anything you were feeling at that moment. "Sorry was I interrupting something?" Your dad murmured obliviously, disappointment painting both of your faces.
"No... no... I'd better be goin'," Cillian stood up, brushing himself off before pulling you into a tight hug. "See ya round, kid." He whispered into your hair before letting go of you, he gave you a longing stare before turning away.
"Bye, Cillian..."
Your heart sank as you watched him go. Curiosity that ate away at you bubbled in your stomach. What was he going to tell you? Surely... it's not what you were thinking? Sitting in your room that night, you struggled to think about anything else. You hated the idea of Cillian meeting this Naomi woman and falling in love with her. You hated that you felt like you had some sort of possession over him, he wasn't yours and he never would be.
Stormy Saturday rolled around and you had no plans, you just watched your parents get ready for this double date of theirs as you wallowed in self-pity and the sky opened up, just as moody as you were. They pestered you on why you were so grumpy, you just shrugged them off, blaming it on hormones. With every step they took towards the door, your heart broke more and more. You wished them goodbye before sitting on the couch with a tub of ice cream to soothe away the pain. An hour went by and you figured the date had started by now, Naomi and Cillian were probably planning their marriage straight away and you would have to watch him give himself away, you would have to sit in the church pews and resist from standing up and screaming when the minister asks if anyone has any objections. You imagined yourself watching their first dance, watching Cillian stand up and tell the world how she's the most amazing woman he's ever known and that he loves her. You imagined having to congratulate him, you imagined growing old and alone, still just as in love with him as you are now. You groaned at your silly thoughts.
"Get over yourself." You said through gritted teeth, talking to yourself as you bit back tears.
You had some stupid rom-com on, only further reminding you of how painfully alone you were and how desperately you wished to be the one Cillian wanted. You were quickly pulled out of your thoughts by your phone buzzing beside you, quickly picked it up when you saw it was your dad calling.
"Hey dad, how's it going?" You asked with a casual hum, plopping another bit of the vanilla ice cream into your mouth.
"Have you seen Cillian? He's yet to arrive." Your dad sounded worried, he was never a worrier. "He said he was going to show up earlier but we haven't heard from him since... have you heard from him?"
"No, I haven't, is he okay... do you think?" You sat up fully now, setting the ice cream aside. It wasn't like Cillian to not respond at all for so long. If he wasn't going to show up, he'd at least let the people know. You hear a loud strike of lightning outside, shaking the room.
"I don't know, I don't know, Y/N, it's been an hour and a half, he should be here..." Your dad grumbles. You can hear the sound of your mom apologizing to someone else, no doubt Naomi was the person she was apologizing to. Sorry, your future husband hasn't arrived, you imagined her saying. "Alright, I'm gonna go, we're gonna stick around here for a little longer... call me if you hear from him."
The call ends and you're left with an uneasy feeling in your chest. What if Cillian was hurt? You tried to brush away that feeling, getting up and putting the ice cream back in the freezer and the spoon in the sink. A knock at your front door, as loud as the thunder outside made you jump about halfway across the kitchen. Who would be knocking at this time? Especially during this weather?
You rush to the door, the rain pouring out, the trees just about to be ripped out of the ground with how harsh the wind was and you open the door, scowling at the wind.
"Y/N." Cillian gasped out, he looked straight out of a movie scene. Soaking wet. He took a step in, dripping all over the place. His eyebrows furrowed together as he approached you.
"Cillian, what? What are you doing here?!" You exclaimed, shutting the door. "My parents are worried sick about you!"
"I...."
"Why aren't you at your date?" You interrupted, scolding him like a naughty child. He was shivering as he took off his sopping coat, leaving him in a white button-up shirt that was equally soaked. It didn't leave much to the imagination, with the already somewhat translucent material and the water leaking through. It stuck to every inch of his skin like cellophane, his nipples peeked through, his chest and stomach on full display. You stopped yourself from checking him out any further, growing flustered as you felt him corner you in the living room. He had a wild look in his eyes.
"Cillian?" You ask again, concerned. His hair was sticking to his forehead, his eyes locked on you. He didn't seem to really care that he was as wet as a dog.
"Y/N..."
"Cillian..." You repeated.
His eyes said everything he was thinking. Hunger, love, and deep untamed desperation. You winced a bit at the feeling of hand cupping your face. "I love you." He whispered and you gasped.
"Cillian..." You whispered back, hesitant to respond to what he just said. "Have you... have you had something to drink tonight?"
"I'm completely sober, kid," He grunted as he leaned in to kiss you, hot breath on your neck as you quickly turned your cheek to him. You pushed him away, you knew this was wrong. You took a step away from him, and Cillian gave you a look of hurt. "Y/N, baby, I need to tell you this. I have to know you feel the same way." His voice was shaking. The room shook with him, you sat down on your sofa and curled your body up into a tiny ball. "Look at me, kid, look at me." "Don't call me kid!" You yelled with tears in your eyes, finally looking him in the eyes. Cillian jumped a bit at the sudden outburst, it wasn't like you to yell.
"Y/N..." Cillian whispered, a look of hurt.
"We... we can't... I don't know... what's going on right now... but this isn't right... you're my dad's best friend..."
"And you're my best friend's daughter," He sat beside you, placing his hand on your thigh and the other on your chin, making you look at him. "But it doesn't.... it doesn't change these feelings... I have for you."
"Why?" You shook your head away, trying to hide the hot tears that slipped down your face. "Why would you have feelings for me? You could have anyone... and you decide me." "I didn't decide this," Cillian sighed, he leaned in and pressed his face into your warm shoulder. His cold wet hair tickles along your jawline. "But I want you... it doesn't matter... any woman could beg to have me... I'd still want you, Y/N. No one else matters... I need you." Your heart ached. It felt like Cillian had wrapped his warm hand around your poor heart and squeezed it until warm raspberry jam spilled out of his fist. You felt torn.
"Don't cry, baby..." His voice was low and every bit of you wanted to fling yourself at him, to confess your undying love, to run away to Paris with him and never come back. The way he called you baby was delectable. But you couldn't stop thinking about your parents, about the look on their faces if they saw this. "Y/N... baby..." "Stop calling me baby..." You cried, turning your face full of anguish towards him. Cillian's lip quivered, thumb swiping away your tears. "I don't... I don't get it. I just don't get it, Cillian... why... you? Why... me?"
"You are the most extraordinary person I have ever met, kid..." Cillian's petal-like lips whispered to you oh-so-gently. Your eyes locked on the way his mouth moved as he spoke. "I... I know it's wrong, I know I'm a fuckin' creep... for feeling this way for you... I'm old enough to be your goddamn father... I've known you since you were... just seventeen-"
"How long... have you... you known...?"
"Since you came home from your trip to California last year..." He replied all too quickly. "I saw you with that stupid boy... Kyle or whatever the fuck his bloody name was and all I saw was red... I didn't... I couldn't handle seeing you with him." You bit back a smile. "You're too good... for any of those college boys..." He grumbled. "A lady like you... she needs to be treated right."
You can treat me right Cillian, you thought. "I've never wanted them... the way I've wanted you..." "Fuck..." He let out quietly, biting his own lip in response. "You can't say things like that." His blue eyes were just a sliver of what they once were, pupils were blown wide as if he were high from just staring at you. "Most brilliant girl... fuck... that last gig we went to... I wanted to wrap me arm around you and kiss you silly... claim you as mine... but... I was too afraid."
"What gave you the courage?"
"I've just had enough," Cillian swiped another tear off your cheek. "Had enough of waiting... I can't wait any longer..."
"I can't wait any longer either... it's been eating away at me, the idea of you with anyone else. I just... I can't picture you with anyone else."
Cillian grinned at you, still shivering from his wet clothes. You put him out of his misery, connecting your lips. After all this time, what felt like an eternity, you kissed. The oxygen around you no longer mattered, you had each other to breathe in now. This kiss was not slow and romantic, it was violent like you were trying to consume each other, trying to see who could win in this cannibalistic fight. His hands grasped at your waist, pulling you onto his lap and wetting your clothes with his soggy ones.
"Take my shirt off..." He whispered, he didn't have to ask you twice.
You unbuttoned his shirt as best you could while it was wet before ripping it open and revealing his delicious skin. "You're so pretty, Cillian..." This moment was surreal. The man of your dreams, twenty years older than you, with crow's feet and grey hairs, and the most beautiful soul you had ever found, sitting in front of you with his body on display for you. Your soulmate. You both had known it for a long time now. Making out on your couch was unacceptable to Cillian so he picked you up and carried you upstairs with your legs wrapped around his slim waist.
He had been in your room plenty of times before but never for reasons like this. Never with the desire to rip all your clothes off and crawl inside you. Cillian closed and locked the door behind you before throwing you down onto your well-cushioned bed. You watched him slide out of his shoes and pull off the sticky shirt that draped off his shoulders. Now he was completely shirtless and was prowling towards you like a tiger to its prey. "Gonna take your clothes off of now, love, is that alright?" He asked quickly, fingers slipping underneath the waistband of your shorts. You nodded desperately, your brain lost in some sort of fog of disbelief and horniness.
"God..." You whispered as you helped him shimmy off your shorts and you pulled your shirt quickly over your head. Leaving you in nothing but some small boxer shorts. He grinned madly.
"S'pretty..." His hands slid up your waist until both hands cupped each of your tits in his hands. "Fucking hell, kid." You rolled your head back at him calling you that, groaning at how it turned you on and gasping as you felt his hot mouth latch itself onto your hard nipple.
"Cillian... oh my god!" Your fingers tugged on his hair before he pulled off of you with a pop.
His lips were quickly back on yours as he pulled down your shorts, now you were completely naked and he knelt down on his knees so his face was perfectly aligned with what was between your legs. Your pussy was already soaking wet for him, he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your clit. "You are the most beautiful thing..." He whispered, staring directly at your throbbing cunt. "And the sweetest." His mouth worked deliciously on you and as if his tongue wasn't already enough, he slipped a finger into you, fingering at your g-spot.
"Oh!" You writhed around on the sheets, thighs tightly locked around his head, wet hair sticking to your soft skin. He was truly devouring you, like a man who had been malnourished for years, he feasted on you as if you were his last meal. And when you came on his face, he moaned loudly. The orgasm crept on you and hit you out of nowhere, you couldn't hold in the noises that came out of your throat.
You were delirious as you lay there, whining as he continued to finger you. "Fuck... I could eat your pussy all night long, baby," Cillian panted, chin dripping in your juices. "But I've gotta be inside ya."
"I'm... on the pill..." You murmured out, he pulled his finger out of you, sucking it clean as he undid his slacks. He moaned lowly at your words, letting his pants and underwear fall to his ankles. Cillian carried you up until your head rested on the pillows now. It was romantic the way he was handling you, the moment was so intimate as he stroked his cock, lining it up with your wanting hole. "I've thought about this... for so long..." "Me too, baby." Cillian huffed, rolling his eyes back into his skull as he fit the head of his cock into your pussy, pushing the rest in there slowly but surely. You arched your back against him, whimpering as he pressed fully into you. "So good." Cillian groaned as he leaned down and bit down on your lip, pulling it away and watching it pop back into place before properly kissing you. You made out while he remained still inside of you, his hands on either side of your head as your tongues twisted together. The first thrust sent your body into a state of euphoria as he began picking up the pace, rocking his hips in and out of you. Your fingers ran scratches up and down his back. Your bed old and creaky, slamming against the wall as soon as he fucked you hard and fast while remaining still so painfully romantic.
"I love you," You gasped out. "I love you... Cillian!"
"I fuckin' love you so much," His head hung low, and you got the perfect view of him above you. His face flushed and his eyes fixed on your own face full of pleasure. "You're mine, all mine... and I'm yours."
"All mine..." You repeated with a moan, clenching around him, feeling your own high slowly begin to grow.
"You're takin' me so good," Cillian's praise made you throb, his grunting making you gush around him. "My good girl, my best girl."
The look of love in his eyes and in your own could be seen a thousand miles away. Your souls' grand reunion, your bodies becoming one, and your love finally coming out into the open, like a beautiful fruitful spring after a long and dark winter. "I'm close, Cillian."
"Cum around me, love, I wanna feel you come undone." "I want you to cum inside me..." "Fuck," He groaned, hips stuttering into you. "I'll give ya what you want since you asked so nicely." Your vision went white, ears ringing as your hot sweaty bodies pressed together, fitting so perfectly together. Never had anyone made you cum like this before. Your orgasm washes over you in foamy waves, like a stormy ocean hitting the shore over and over and over again. Cillian's rhythm slowed down as he rutted into you, warm cum filling you, and you felt so relieved, this was how it was always meant to be. His lips pressed sloppy kisses to your neck, moaning directly into your ear, both of you riding out your intense highs.
He stilled, letting a bit more of his seed spill into you before he hissed as he pulled out. Cillian lay beside you, wrapping an arm around you as shook softly, still feeling the effects of your own orgasm hitting you. His eyes examined you so gently, a dopey smile on his fairy-like face and his hair beginning to grow curly from how wet it was.
"Cillian..." You whispered, rolling over onto your side to look at him. "I love you." "I love you, kid." He whispered back, holding you like he had the world in his arms. To him, you were his world.
"We'll be okay, right?" "We just... have to keep this a secret... from your parents..." Cillian said, disappointment evident in his voice.
"Yeah... I know..." You pressed your face into his bare chest, loving the warmth. "Cillian... I wish you knew how strongly I felt about you."
"I feel the same way."
You shared sweet nothings with each other. Still, in disbelief, this was actually happening as you fell asleep with smiles on your faces, in each other's arms. Unfortunately in the morning, you'd have to suffer the consequences of your dad walking in on you and Cillian resting peacefully in your bed.
-
hi! sorry this was so long but i hope you enjoyed <3
also sorry if there are any major mistakes!
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once-upon-an-imagine · 7 months
Text
Lover - Sirius Black
A/N: ahh! well here it is, a very long one-shot. I'm not sure how, this started off kind of sweet, then it got angsty and then it got funny but I still hope you like it!
Request - Anonymous asked: Hey love! Hope you're doing okay! I wanna start off by saying I love all of your Sirius Black fics so much! They're so fun to read and always make me happy! Secondly I love the whole Potter!reader thing cause I absolutely love James and have always wanted a brother like him. Idk if you're taking requests but if you are I was wondering if you'd do a Sirius x reader where the reader is a Hufflepuff and is the opposite of Sirius and he's like absolutely whipped but the reader is James' little sister ( a year younger maybe cause I love age gaps lol) so yeah sirius is like shitting scared cause he thinks James would hate him forever and all angsty but then James is like dude I knew since like the day I introduced you guys and all happy ending lol. Sorry if it's too detailed. I completely understand if you don't wanna write it tho. Have a nice day!
Warnings: mentions of Sirius' family situation, like I said it got a bit too angsty for a moment there but I think that's it let me know if I missed anything though!
Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter :D gif isn’t mine :)  
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Lover
My heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue All's well that ends well to end up with you Swear to be overdramatic and true to my lover
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You kept walking back and forth in your room. You couldn't sleep. You hadn't been able to sleep earlier tonight, but now it was even worse. When you walked into the kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea you did not expect to find Sirius Black, barely being able to stand as he held on to the kitchen counter. You felt your entire body shaking when you noticed the bruises and blood all over him. But, when he looked at you, your heart broke into a million pieces, that's when you felt like you were going to be sick. He was crying and he looked haunted. You had never seen Sirius like this. He tried to say your name before he collapsed so you quickly walked over to him to hold him up and you yelled for your brother. It wasn't even five minutes before James came running downstairs with your parents following him. And now, here you were, waiting for James to come tell you what happened. Sirius wasn't talking, so if there was a remote possibility that he would, it would be with James. And your parents were helping him so, at some point, you were asked to leave. But James knew you wouldn't go to sleep until you knew Sirius was okay.
"Hey, bug" you turned around when James opened your door.
"Hi" you said, finally sitting on the bench by your window and James joined you. "H-how is he?" you asked nervously. You could tell James had been crying as well.
"He's gonna be okay" he assured you. "I knew you wouldn't go to sleep until I told you that" he smiled. "He's gonna be staying with us now" he explained.
"Good" you nodded. "I'm glad he doesn't have to go back there" you said. You knew about Sirius' home situation. He had talked to you about it a few times, but you had never imagined it was this bad.
"Me too" James smiled at you.
"How are you feeling?"
"I'm fine, bug" he frowned.
"You know it's okay if you're not, right?" you insisted.
"It's just... hard seeing him like this" he admitted, shedding a few tears. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and kissed his cheek.
"You're a good brother, Jamie" you said as you felt him hug you back. "That's why he came here" you told him.
"Thanks, bug" he said, kissing the side of your head. You were about to pull away but you felt James arms tightening a little and you knew he needed more time.
"You should try to get some sleep" you told him.
"You too" he said, getting up. When he was at the door, he looked back at you with a weary smile. "I love you, bug."
"I love you too, Jamie" you smiled before he left, closing the door behind you.
You sighed, thinking that it was best if you also got some sleep since it was almost three in the morning, but you heard something in the room next to you. You knew Sirius would most likely not be able to sleep. So, you went downstairs again to make some tea. But not for you. You knew that Sirius might not want to talk right now, especially with you. So, you just wanted to do something nice and feel a little helpful. You walked quietly to his room and saw that the light was still on, so you were not waking him up. You knocked lightly but got no response, so you opened the room slowly. It was empty, and the bathroom door was closed. You didn't want to cross any lines so you placed the tea on his nightstand and left.
And that's how it started. You did the same thing the following night. This time, when you knocked on his door, Sirius opened it and smiled sweetly at you. He had a feeling it was you the previous night. He was still very quiet, which was unusual for him, but you still offered him the tea.
"I just... thought it might help you sleep" you smiled nervously.
"Thanks, Bambi" he said, grabbing it from you, making you chuckle a little. He had always called you that and, it annoyed you at first, but now you kind of liked it.
"Good night, Siri" you said, walking over to the next door.
"Night, love" he whispered to himself going inside his room.
This kept happening for the following weeks. You slowly saw Sirius coming back to his old self. Your mum had asked you to help redecorate his room so he would feel more at home and you noticed his eyes watering a little when your mum showed it to him. James told him that Remus and Peter would be arriving in a few weeks and that also seemed to lift his spirits up. But if Sirius was being honest with himself, his favorite part of living at the Potters was whenever you brought him tea. It was a small act of kindness on your part but it meant the world to him. He knew you sometimes had trouble sleeping and you were worried that he was experiencing that too, and that warmed his heart. Which is why, one night he opened the door before you could even knock. He stood there on the other side and smiled sweetly at you.
"Oh- s-sorry, I was um-"
"It's okay, love" he chuckled. "How come you never bring one for yourself?" he asked, confused as he grabbed the tea from you.
"Oh" you said, a little taken aback. "I usually drink mine downstairs" you explained.
"Well, would you maybe like to have your tea with me tomorrow?" he smiled sweetly at you.
"Really?" you asked, feeling a little nervous. "I m-mean, yeah, sure, I'd love that" you nodded.
"Cool, see you tomorrow, Bambi" he said, kissing your cheek before you both said good night.
And you did. Every night for the rest of the summer, after James went to sleep, and the rest of the Marauders, once they arrived, you brought tea for Sirius and the two of you spent hours talking. Little by little, you saw him going back to his old self. He smiled more. He laughed more. He didn't seem jumpy or gloomy anymore. One night, you fell asleep and he didn't have it in him to bring you to your room. He liked your company and he felt a lot better when you were around, so he didn't. But a few hours later, you were woken up by his screaming. It broke your heart to see him so terrified by his nightmares, but it got Sirius to open up to you. He felt more comfortable around you with each passing week, until one night, he finally kissed you.
You would have been lying if you said you didn't have a slight crush on Sirius Black. Because he was Sirius Black. Everyone had a crush on him and you were no exception. And in the weeks since he had moved in, you got to know him even more and you felt your crush growing. So, when he kissed you, you were over the moon. That's how it started. This whole thing between the two of you. You both decided to keep it secret for a while. And you couldn't deny that it was even exciting at first. The stolen glances between you, the way Sirius would always sit next to you at meals and hold your hand under the table. Brief moments where he would excuse himself from the other Marauders just to go to your room to steal a quick kiss from you.
But now, that you were back at Hogwarts, being in different years and houses, it made it increasingly difficult to keep your relationship a secret. You knew Sirius was anxious about James' reaction to your relationship, but you didn't think it would be such a big deal, as to practically have your relationship back to before you two got together. Making moments like this extremely rare.
"Merlin, I've missed you" Sirius smiled as the two of you laid on his bed, kissing, with music in the background.
"I've missed you too" you smiled before he pulled you in for another kiss. "It's been such a long week" you complained.
"It's only Tuesday" he laughed.
"I know" you pouted and he kissed you once more. "But we barely got to see each other this past weekend and classes have been crazy and I just-"
Sirius interrupted you with another kiss. "I know, love" he said, placing his hand on your cheek. "But it's a Hogsmeade weekend" he smiled. "Maybe we can go?"
"R-really?" you asked, feeling excited. Because of all the sneaking around, you two didn't even have a first date.
"Yeah, I think we're all gonna go, so you can come with us" he suggested, making your smile drop.
"Oh- um, y-yeah, sure" you smiled again, but, of course, Sirius noticed it was different.
"What?" he frowned, sitting up.
"N-nothing" you tried to assure him.
"Love, you're a terrible liar" he insisted. "I know when something's bothering you" he said pulling you with him.
"Nothing, I just..." you sighed. The two of you never really established what this was and you didn't want to make it a bigger deal than it was. "I'm not sure if I have a Potions exam on Monday" you covered up.
"Oh" he replied before smiling again. "Well, in that case" he said, leaning in for another kiss. "Maybe I can stay back and help you study" he smirked, kissing you again.
"You don't have to do that" you chuckled.
"Oh, I wouldn't mind, sweetheart" he said as his kisses started making his way down your neck. "I wouldn't mind at all" he said between kisses and making your smile appear again.
It was short-lived, however, because the two of you heard the door opening and Sirius quickly pushed you off him, making you fall off his bed.
"Bloody hell!"
"Sirius!" you complained when you hit your head with his nightstand.
"Moony! What the fuck!" Sirius said, looking at his friend standing at the entrance of his dorm.
"What? Just be glad it was me and not Prongs" he rolled his eyes, closing the door and tossing his bag on his bed.
"I'm so sorry, love" he said, getting up to help you. "Are you okay-?"
"No, of course I'm not okay" you glared at him. "You pushed me and I hit my head!"
"I'm sorry, love. I thought it was Prongs-"
"What difference does that make, Sirius" you asked, grabbing your shirt and putting it back on. "We're both half-naked, in your bed, do you honestly think James would have thought nothing was going on? I know he's daft but give him some credit!"
"I panicked, okay! Moony said he would be out until dinner" he said, glaring at Remus.
"It is almost dinner" he defended himself. "And this wouldn't have happened if you just told Prongs already. What is he gonna do? Kill you?"
"Moony, could you please get out?" Sirius glared at his friend again making Remus sigh in frustration.
"Fine, I'll leave-"
"No, don't worry, Remus. I'll leave" you said as you finished fixing yourself up.
"What? Why are you leaving?" Sirius said, pulling you to him.
"I don't know, Sirius, maybe because I don't want to stay here until my brother comes in and you push me again so I hit my head!"
"That was an accident! I just-"
"I know. You don't want James to know about us" you rolled your eyes. "What's the big deal? Remus knows!" you said, pointing at him.
"Remus is not your brother. Trust me, love. I will tell him, I promise I just... need more time" he begged, making you sigh in defeat.
"Fine" you said, grabbing your bag. "I'm still gonna go" you said, quietly.
"Love-"
"No, it's fine" you said with a weary smile. "If it's almost dinner time, that means Jamie's practice is over" you said. "I'll see you both later" you said, leaving and closing the door behind you before Sirius could stop you again.
"I fucked up, didn't I?" Sirius asked out loud.
"Oh, good. You didn't neet me to tell you" Remus smirked a little.
"Moony, I'm not joking-!"
"Neither am I, Pads" Remus said as Sirius put his shirt back on. "You're gonna fuck things up if you keep doing this. And the longer you wait-"
"I know, the worst it will be with Prongs" Sirius sighed frustrated.
"Prongs? You're more worried about what James will say than being disrespectful to your girlfriend?"
"Whoa, that's a big word, Moony" he chuckled nervously. "Bambi's not my-" he stopped as Remus glared at him. "I mean we haven't really-" he sighed. "Ugh, I'm fucking this up, aren't I?" he said, throwing himself on his bed.
"You know, sometimes you're more perceptive than I give you credit for" Remus replied.
"Moony!" Sirius complained, sitting up. "It's not funny! I don't know what to do!"
"Why are you so afraid of telling James about the two of you?"
"Are you joking? You know I don't have the best reputation about dating and if he finds out that I'm dating his little sister he's going to kill me!"
"I honestly don't think he would" Remus tried to reason to him. "I mean, we've all seen how much you've changed this past year" he continued. "And James hasn't seen it but I've seen the way the two of you are together. It's different" he explained. "But you're going to fuck it all up if you keep making her feel this way" he said.
"What way?"
"As if you don't want to be seen with her. As if your relationship isn't serious. And as if you care more about what James says than hurting her feelings" he indicated.
Sirius opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out so he threw himself back on his bed. Maybe Remus was right. Maybe he needed to get this over with and just tell James before it was too late.
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The next day, you were coming out of your Charms class and you were still in a foul mood. You loved Sirius, you knew that much. And whenever you were with him, you felt like he might love you too. But all of this hiding and sneaking around made your insecurities get the best of you and wonder if he was as Sirius about this as you were. You understood that he was nervous about telling James, but you kept insisting nothing would happen so, maybe it wasn't just that.
Your thoughts were shut down when you noticed a small crumpled parchment in your bag while you were putting your book away. You opened it and saw one of Sirius' doodles and it made you smile. He did this from time to time. He left little notes hidden in your books and your bag. This one was a small doodle of him holding up a flower and apologizing for being an idiot, asking you to meet him after lunch so the two of you could talk.
"Hey, bug!" you heard your brother walking your way and you put your small doodle back in your bag.
"Hi, Jamie" you smiled at your big brother.
"You going to lunch?"
"Yeah" you replied before you heard your name being called.
"Hey" you turned around to see your housemate and classmate speeding your way. "Oh, hi, James" she smiled. "It's the Potters" she greeted.
"Hi Emmeline" you smiled back at your friend.
"Hey" she smiled. "I won't keep you long, I just wanted to ask you something" she told you. "Oh, and now that your brother's here I guess I can ask him too" she told you.
"Sure, Em, what do you need?" you asked your friend.
"You're really close with Sirius Black, aren't you?" she asked, making your heart drop for a moment. You could tell where this was going.
"She's not as close to him as I am" James smirked. "Why the interest, love?"
"Well, I was just... wondering if... he's single?" she asked smiling as you felt your entire heart shatter. What were you supposed to say now?
"Yes, of course, he is" James answered before you could say something.
"Really? I wasn't sure because you seem really close to him and I didn't want to cross any lines if you two were dating or anything-" she said looking at you. But, again, your brother intervened.
"With her?" he laughed a little too loud to your liking. "Sirius dating my sister? You're joking right, they're just friends" he insisted.
"Oh, that's a relief" she sighed while you remained with your mouth open but nothing was coming out. "So, could you maybe... find out for me if he might be interested?"
"I- uh-" you tried to make sense of this whole thing. "Y-you want me to f-find out if Sirius likes you?"
"Yeah" she chuckled. "We've sort of been flirting back and forth, and since it's a Hogsmeade weekend, I though-"
"Y-you've been flirting back and forth" you said, letting out a bitter chuckle and feeling as if someone was stabbing your heart repeatedly. "With Sirius-?"
"Well, that's a grand idea, Emmeline" James kept interrupting. "Maybe we can have a double date" he suggested.
"What's on your mind, Potter?"
"Well, I happen to know you do some of your prefect rounds with Lily" he smirked. "Put in a good word for me and I put in a good word for you?"
"Really?" Emmeline asked, excitedly.
"Really" James nodded.
"Alright, Potter. You've got yourself a deal" she smiled. "But only if you agree to find out if I have a chance first" she said, turning back to you.
"I um-" you stuttered. "S-so, you want me to find out if Sirius likes you-?"
"Yes, please, will you? Is not too much trouble, is it?" she asked.
"Uh-"
"Of course, not, love!" James waved you off. "We'll definitely have the information in a few hours. I mean, we're just on our way to have lunch with Sirius, right bug?" he said, playfully hitting your stomach with his arm.
"R-right" you said trying your best not to start crying. Were you really just about to set your boyfriend up on a date just to avoid telling your brother?
"Brilliant! Thank you so much! I have my Prefect rounds tonight with Lily so, that works" she told James.
"Pleasure doing business with you, Em" James said as she nodded her head to him.
"Thanks, love" she told you. "I'll see you both later!" she said, walking away from you.
"Oh, Merlin! Bug, did you hear that?"
"What just happened?" you muttered to yourself.
"I'll tell you what just happened. I just got a date with Lily!" he said, excitedly, pulling you with him to the Great Hall.
"I didn't hear that" you said, frowning at him.
"Come on, let's go!" he said, running towards his usual spot. He found Remus and Peter already sitting there but Sirius was nowhere to be seen. "Great! You're both here! Where's Padfoot?"
"He said he'll be right here" Peter said as James pulled you to sit and he took the seat next to you.
"Brilliant!" he said as he started putting food on his plate and yours.
"Are you okay?" Remus asked you.
"She's fine. She's just hungry" James said, placing a massive mountain of potatoes on your plate.
"No, I think I have to go-"
"Nonsense!"
"Hey" Sirius said, appearing at the table and greeting all of you. "Bambi, I didn't know you would join us today" he said, sitting next to Remus, in front of you. "What are you all talking about?"
"Not much" James said, acting casually. "Just talking about next weekend" he said smiling. "Hogsmeade weekend" he continued. "Do you have any plans?"
"Uh, no, n-not really" Sirius answered, looking at you without meaning to.
"Wonderful" James said with a smirk. "I have a proposition for you" he told him.
"What?"
"Well, I was thinking-"
"Shocker" Remus heard you mutter under your breath and your brother quickly glared at you.
"What do you think about going on a double date?"
"Are you asking me out, Prongs? Because I've got to be honest with you, you're not really my type" Sirius asked him making the other two Marauders laugh.
James rolled his eyes and glared at his friends. "No, I just happened to run into Emmeline, you know her right?" he said.
"Um... sure?" Sirius said a bit confused. He looked at you to see if you could maybe provide some sort of explanation, but your eyes were glued to the potatoes on your plate. You didn't dare to look up at him.
"Well, you see, my sweet Padfoot, it looks like our dear Emmeline has a bit of a crush on you" he said happily.
You lifted her look just to see Sirius' reaction who looked back at you, feeling extremely guilty.
"N-no, she doesn't" he said awkwardly.
"Yes, she does! Isn't this grand?"
"G-grand? W-why would that be grand?" Sirius chuckled, nervously.
"Well because she just told us that she wants to go to Hogsmeade with you this weekend and that she would ask Lily so we could go on a double date" James said with a smirk.
"Us? What do you mean 'us'?"
"She just told us before coming over here" he explained, making Sirius' heart stop. "She wanted us to find out if you liked her back" he shrugged.
Sirius instantly looked at you. He knew you were upset. And you probably had every right to. This was it. He should just come out and say it. But he fucked up again. He was a coward.
"She told you that?"
You slowly turned to look up from your food when you felt the four boys looking at you. James still had his stupid smirk on his face, Peter was just curiously waiting for an answer, Sirius was looking at you as if he was going to cry, and Remus was looking at you almost... sorry?
"Um" you said nervously. "She might-have um, m-mentioned something" you said before looking back down.
"Mentioned something? She said you two have been flirting back and forth for weeks" James said excitedly. "So, what do you say? Why don't you ask her out and then the four of us could go on a double date?"
You felt your heart beating faster each second and feared it might explode. Not only would Sirius not take you out on a date this Saturday, but he might even go on a date with someone else. All to avoid telling your brother about the two of you.
"Uh, I don't think so, Prongs-"
"Come on, Pads, is just one date" James kept on pushing.
Remus turned to look at you, who didn't dare look up from your plate. He noticed the tears in your eyes and he turned to glare at Sirius, kicking him under the table.
"I don't really think Padfoot's interested, Prongs" he said, widening his eyes at Sirius. He couldn't believe he was so afraid of James as to even hurt your feelings in the process.
"Of course he is, he's interested in any girl" James laughed. "Well, almost, right bug?" he said, elbowing you playfully on your stomach.
"R-right" you muttered sadly.
You suddenly felt sick to your stomach and you decided you couldn't be here anymore, so you stood up.
"Hey, where are you going, bug?" your brother asked confused.
"Away from you" you answered, grabbing your stuff.
"But you haven't even touched your food" James said, worriedly, looking at the still full plate next to him.
"Well, maybe I'm not hungry anymore" you said grumpily, before walking away from them.
"What's going on with her?" James asked concerned, looking at his three friends.
"I don't know" Sirius quickly replied. "W-why would we know?"
"Yeah, why would we know?" Remus asked, glaring at Sirius.
"It's probably her time of the month" James said shrugging his shoulders. "Honestly is easier to deal with your time of the month, Moony, no offense" he said looking at Remus. "So, what do you say?"
"About what?" Sirius asked, confused.
"The double date!" James said frustrated.
"Uh, I um-" Sirius said awkwardly. "I don't think so, mate. I'm not really interested in Emmeline like that" he said getting up as well. "Um, I'm gonna go see if Bambi's okay" he said, walking out of the Great Hall before any of them could stop him.
"What do you think is going on with him?" James asked confused. "And why is he checking on my sister?"
"Beats me" Remus said casually. He wouldn't be the one to tell his best friend that their other best friend was in a secret relationship with his sister.
Sirius ran after you as quickly as he could. He quickly made his way to the Library, knowing you went there when you didn't want your brother to bother you and he walked over to the last aisle. He saw you sitting there with your knees pulled to your chest as tears fell down your face. It felt as if someone grabbed a hammer and broke his heart into millions of pieces.
"Love" he said, kneeling next to you. You quickly tried to wipe away the tears falling down your cheeks but new ones just came.
"W-what are you doing here?"
"Sweetheart" he said, pulling you towards him. "You know I don't want to go out with Emmeline, right?" he said, as you tried to breathe normally.
"I g-guess" you sighed.
"Look at me" he said, gently lifting your chin with his finger and he then wiped your tears softly with his thumb. "I don't want to go out with anyone who's not you" he said genuinely.
"Sirius..." you said, pushing yourself away from him.
"And I swear we have not been flirting back and forth! I wouldn't do that-!"
"Sirius" you said again, making him pay attention to you. "It's fine" you said, with your voice breaking a little.
"W-what?" Sirius frowned, confused.
"Look, it is clear that your relationship with me is not as important as your relationship with James" you cried a little more. "S-so, if you want to just- e-end whatever this is, I completely understand and-"
"What?!" he said, raising his voice a little. The two of you heard someone shushing you all the way on the other side and he looked back at you. "Sweetheart, I don't want to end things" he pleaded. "I-is that what you want? I swear I haven't flirted with anyone since I came back here and-"
"It's not what I want, Sirius" you insisted. "B-but... I just... I don't know what to do! I don't know what you want-"
"I want to be with you, love!" he insisted.
"Do you? I barely get to see you anymore. We're in different houses, we're in different years the rest of the time you're with my brother and you don't want him or anyone else to know about us! I don't know how long I can keep doing this, Sirius. It just doesn't feel as if you actually want to be with me!"
"I do!"
"Then why can't we just tell James so he can stop setting you up with a different girl every week!" you blurted out. "You think he doesn't tell me things? That he hasn't told me how he noticed you've changed and you don't talk to girls anymore so he keeps trying to set you up with them!"
"Well, of course, I've changed! I'm with you now and I don't want to be with anyone else!"
"But he doesn't know that, Sirius! So he's most likely going to keep doing this until you get fed up and tell him! So, why not just tell him already? Do you not want people to know about us-?"
"No! That's not it!"
"Is it me? Are you embarrassed to be seen with me or something?"
"What? No! Love, how can you think that!?"
"I don't know what else to think Sirius! I don't even know what we are!"
"Please don't ever think that" he said with a stern look on his face. "Look, I know I fucked up yesterday, and today, and probably lots of other times. I've never done this before and I-" he sighed, running a hand through his hair frustrated. "I love you" he said, making your heart flutter instantly.
"Y-you what?"
"I love you, sweetheart, okay? I know that. I've known it for a while. I have never felt like this about anyone and... I don't want to lose you" he said with his voice breaking a little. "I know I've fucked up, I just..." he sighed again. "I don't want you to think that my relationship with James is more important than you. Nothing to me is more important than you, okay? But... love..." he said, looking away. "I got disowned" he said, quietly. "I was kicked out of my family and James..." he continued. "Without him, I wouldn't have anywhere to go. I wouldn't even have you" he explained. "And he's my best friend and he knows me more than anyone. You also know that I don't have the best dating reputation here and... I'm just... scared that he's going to hate me and... then I'll have no one" he said. "I know this isn't fair to you, this is all just... a lot and new to me, and I'm so sorry-"
"Sirius" you said, cupping his cheek with your hand and smiling at him. You pulled him gently and kissed his cheek. "First of all, I love you too" you said, making him smile back at you.
"Y-you do?"
"Of course, I do. Why do you think I was so upset about you going out with another girl this weekend-?"
"That was never going to happen-" he interrupted.
"Secondly, I understand where you're coming from about James" you told him. "And we don't have to tell him until you're ready" you said. "But James loves you too. You know in a different way" you said, making him laugh a little. "I think he loves you more than he loves me-"
"That's not true" he insisted, making you chuckle.
"Either way, he would never turn his back on you" you insisted. "And neither will I" you assured him. He pulled you closer, kissing your temple before he wiped away your remaining tears.
"I'm so sorry, love" he whispered. "I don't want you to feel this way" he said. "I feel like I keep screwing up and hurting you-"
"It's okay, love" you assured him. "I mean, it's not the most ideal situation" you admitted. "But, we don't have to tell him until you're ready" you said. "I just... I don't particularly love that girls keep chasing after you" you mumbled, feeling your cheeks burn.
Sirius gently lifted your face slowly so you would look at him. "I promise I don't want to go out with anyone who's not you, love" he said. "Y-you trust me, right?"
You smiled sweetly at him, brushing his cheek with your thumb. "Of course, I do, love" you said, giving him a peck on the lips. "I love you" you said, feeling your heart flutter at the sweet smile on his face.
"I love you too" he said, giving you another kiss.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
"Hey, mate, where did you disappear off to?" James asked when Sirius walked into the boys' dorm. "We didn't see you after lunch, or at Potions, Charms, or at dinner" he told him.
"I uh- was... around" he said, innocently.
"Mhm" James said, looking at Peter. "By yourself?" he asked, making Remus roll his eyes as he kept reading his book.
"I um... well... yeah" he shrugged
"Interesting" James said, sitting up.
"All afternoon?" Peter asked.
"Yes" he said, sitting on his bed and throwing his bag on the floor. "I went out and had a cigarette. What's the big deal?"
"You missed class-" Remus spoke for the first time.
"Nobody cares about that, Moony" James interrupted as he sat on his bed. "See, we happened to hear otherwise, Padfoot" he said, smirking at Sirius.
"What are you talking about, Prongs?" he frowned, looking between him and Remus.
"Well, since you obviously missed dinner, you missed what everyone was talking about" he continued.
"I doubt it was anything interesting-" Sirius started.
"Oh, but it was" James continued. "See it was about you and your new... girlfriend" he said, making Sirius' heart drop.
"M-my what now?"
"Your girlfriend" Remus said, suddenly very interested in the conversation, closing his book.
"What are you talking about?"
"Well, Padfoot, apparently someone saw you today walking out of the library with a mysterious girlfriend" James explained.
"That's insane" he said, chuckling nervously.
"No, mate, it's from a reliable source" Peter nodded.
"Really? Enlighten me, Wormy, who is your reliable source?"
"Marlene and Dorcas" James added. "They all said they saw you leaving with someone who had a Gryffindor scarf" he said, getting up and walking over to Sirius' bed. "So, either you have a Gryffindor girlfriend, or maybe you gave her your scarf" he said, sitting down next to him. "A bunch of girls were claiming it was them but according to Marls, it wasn't-"
"Do you really have nothing better to do than wondering if I am with someone-?"
"See, it all adds up" James continued. "Why you wouldn't go out with Emmeline, or any other girl for that matter" he said. "We just want to know why you didn't tell us!"
"Because it's none of your business!" Sirius said, getting up, frustrated.
"So it's true!" Peter smirked.
"I knew it!" James yelled at the same time. "Who is she?"
"You kind of built yourself up for that one, Pads" Remus told him.
"I didn't say it was true!" Sirius said, feeling nervous.
"You didn't deny it" James smirked. "C'mon Pads, tell us who she is!" Is it just a fling?"
"Yeah, who is this mystery girl and why did you hide it from us? Usually, you brag about your flings" Peter laughed.
"There's no mystery girl and it is not a fling-!"
"Again, you just keep setting yourself up, mate-" Remus intervened.
"Hey dorks, I need some food. I missed dinner" you said, suddenly entering your brother's dorm and the four boys turned to look at you.
"Oh, suddenly you're in a good mood again?" James asked, glaring at you a little.
"I am if you feed me" you said, walking over to your brother's night table because you knew he would have dinner's leftovers. Which coincidentally happened whenever you or Sirius would miss dinner.
"Hey, bug, did you hear about Sirius' secret girlfriend?" James asked suddenly, making you choke on the banana muffin munching on.
"W-what? Sirius has a secret girlfriend?" you pretended to be confused as Remus rolled his eyes when you sat next to him and dropped your bag on the floor.
"Yeah, we're trying to figure out who she is and why he didn't tell us" Peter added.
"Hold on" James said, sitting up and looking at your tossed bag on the floor. "What's that?"
"What's what?" you asked, with your mouth half-fulled at the same time Sirius did.
James noticed something peeking out of your bag. Something scarlet and gold. He quickly got up and grabbed it, taking it out.
"Why do you have a Gryffindor scarf?"
"I um-" you swallowed, nervously. "That's yours-"
"No" he insisted. "Mine is over there" he said, pointing at his opened trunk with his scarf on top, falling out of it.
"Uh- P-Prongs" Sirius started, but your brother looked deep in thought.
"How long do you reckon it's going to take him?" Remus muttered, sitting up.
"Oh for Merlin's sake! I can't take it anymore!" Sirius yelled, frustrated. "That's my scarf!"
"Now we'll never know" you mumbled, giving him a piece of your muffin.
"So, you're the mystery fling?" Peter asked with his jaw dropped.
"She's not a fling!" Sirius argued.
"Wait, how long has this been going on!?" James asked looking between you and Sirius.
"Well, we've actually been seeing each other since this summer" Sirius explained.
"SINCE SUMMER?!" James blurted out.
"Jamie, is not a big deal-" you tried.
"It is a big deal!" he argued. "How come I didn't know about this?" he asked, looking at Sirius.
"Well, I didn't know how you were going to react, Prongs and-"
"So you lied to me?"
"Technically we didn't lie" you told him. "We just didn't say anything-"
"Oh, don't use that with me, I invented that, bug" he glared at you. "Plus, today when we talked to Emmeline, you said you weren't dating!"
"No, I didn't" you argued.
"Yes, you did!"
"No, I didn't!"
"Yes, you did!" James complained as Remus, Sirius, and Peter kept looking between the two of you.
"No, actually, technically, I didn't" you insisted.
"Yes, you di- oohhh" he gasped, remembering your previous conversation. "You didn't! You clever bug, I'm impressed" he smirked, proudly as he gave you a high-fived and you accepted it, rolling your eyes a little. "So you two have been seeing each other for months now?"
"Pretty much" you said, still a bit nervous.
"And this is why you kept turning me down when I tried to set you up?" he asked Sirius.
"Yeah" he admitted.
"Are you happy with her?"
"I am. Very happy" Sirius quickly said.
"Are you happy with him?" he asked you.
"I really am" you replied.
"Okay" he said, sitting back on his bed.
"W-wait, you're... you're okay with this?" Sirius asked, extremely confused.
"Well, I don't love that you hid it from me but... yes, why wouldn't I be?" James shrugged.
"W-well, b-because I thought- are you kidding me? I thought you were going to kick my ass!"
"For dating my sister? You do know her, right? She's more than capable of kicking your ass" he laughed. "Plus, I'm assuming that since it's been going on for a long time it's... a serious relationship?"
"Well, we haven't had our first date yet, but... yes" Sirius said, sitting on your other side and holding your hand.
"Wait, you haven't had your first date, what the hell have you- no! You know what, I don't want to know" James said, glaring at you as you laughed.
"See, mate? I told you James wouldn't mind" Remus said, patting Sirius on the back and erasing James' smile off his face.
"E-excuse me?" James said, getting upset. "Remus knew?"
"Prongs" Sirius said getting up at the same time.
"You mean to tell me that the two of you have been together for months and YOU TOLD REMUS BEFORE ME?!!" he snapped.
"It was an accident, mate-"
"Oh, I'm sure it was!" James said, glaring at Sirius. "I can't believe you did this to me! Why would you betray me like this?!"
"I'm sorry, Prongs! I can make it up to you, okay? Honeydukes, this Saturday, I'll buy you all the candy you want!"
James stood there with his arms crossed. "... I'm listening" he caved.
"But I thought we were having our first date-"
"Oh, don't you even think so, bug! Remus knew!"
"This is going to be my whole life, isn't it?" you asked Remus and Peter.
"Yes."
The End
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
A/N: I know this was a roller coaster of emotions but I hope you loves liked it! :D
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weird-is-life · 9 months
Note
I dont know if you’re still taking requests so feel free to ignore this lol :)
Spencer x reader angstttt all the way! Reader doesn’t work at the Bau and works as a model, however JJ confesses to Spencer right in front of reader bc she doesn’t know reader is his gf‼️ the rest is up to you sorry if it’s confusing
Hii, lovely ty for this request. I hope u don't mind I changed it a bit. Warnings: angsty, happy ending, pet names, use of y/n (1.5k)
You don't mean to overhear Spencer's conversation with JJ. It just happens. You've been seeing Spence for a lot more then a few weeks now and he still hasn't introduced you to his friends from work.
So with him forgetting his bag at your apartment, you decided that you could bring it to him to work. And maybe get introduced to his close friends, as well.
But seeing and hearing what you are right now. You are beggining to understand why he didn't rush to have you introduced.
Spencer is standing with his back to you talking to a pretty blonde ( which you know is definitely JJ). You are close enough to them to hear what they are talking about. You almost interrupt their talk, but then you hear JJ's words. She is full of kind words, pet names and sweet smiles. And to your horrible surprise, you realise, she is confessing her feelings to Spencer. But before, you can hear her say the 'L' word, you storm out of there, almost knocking over one agent on your way out.
JJ sees your accidental stumble and makes a weird face, which catches Spencer's attention.
"What is it?" he questions.
"Oh nothing, just some girl almost running Rossi over. Was my speech good? Do you think, that Will will like it?" JJ asks, but before Spencer can reply, Penelope comes running in.
"Guys guys guys, did you see what I just saw now?" she asks, excitement visible on here.
"What do you mean, Pen?"
"The super gorgeous girl, that almost just ran over Rossi, obviously, " she says in a 'duh' tone, "Since when has the Bau started hiring super models? I need to find out her name, I'd kill for the shoes she had-"
"Did-did you just say super model?" Spencer interrupts her, his eyes wide.
"Yes?" she asks uncertainly.
"Did she-" he describes your appearance, praying that it wasn't you and that you just didn't hear JJ's love confession.
"You know her? You must give me her-" Spencer is out of there, not even letting Penelope finish.
He runs out of the building like a mad man, hoping to catch you, he can't even to begin think about what you must be thinking now.
"Fuck!" he curses outside of the building, he knows you are long gone. He quickly returns to the office, eager to call you and to explain everything to you. He notices the bag, that he forgot at your place in the morning, sitting on his desk. It makes him feel even worse.
As he calls you, everybody - JJ, Rossi and Penelope - is looking at him worriedly. You, of course, don't pick up any of his calls, so Spencer tosses the phone on his desk and slumps down in his chair.
"Spencer, what's wrong?"
"I....-I fucked up," he sighs.
"What do you mean?" JJ asks.
"I mean y/n....she definitely heard your love speech," Spencer puts his head in his hands. His visible distress making JJ, Pen and Rossi even more confused and worried.
"Who's y/n?" Penelope is the first one to ask, "is that the model looking girl, that almost knocked Rossi on the ground?"
"She actually is a model," Spencer murmurs into his palms, he says it so quietly, but they all hear it.
"What?!" Pen almost yells, "how do you know that? You actually know her?"
Spencer lifts his head up, preparing mentally for what he is about to reveal. "I know it, because she-.....she's my girlfriend."
It's a complete silence after he says that. Everybody is staring at him like he has said the most unhinged thing ever.
"What are you still doing here then, kid? You gotta go to her," Rossi's the first one to speak up.
"B-but I can't just leave, what about Hotch-"
"We will take care of that, just go," Spencer doesn't need to be told twice, he is up on his feet, shrugging a coat on in a matter of seconds. He leaves the office with anxious thoughts and some encouraging words from his friends.
He sets off to your apartment, he knows you will be there, because you don't have any work right now. He gets to your apartment in record time and without hesitation, he lets himself in with a key you've given him.
He finds you in your bedroom, eyes red, face puffy and wet from crying, on a phone call with your best friend. It feels like a punch in the guts seeing you like that and it is even worse, when he knows it's because of him.
"Y/N?" he calls out your name uncertainly. You look up at him, eyes wide.
"Spencer, w-what are you doing here?" you ask, stiff as a board.
"I know you came to the office and i-"
"Please, just leave Spencer, i-i don't want to see you right now," you interrupt him, your voice hoarse from all the crying.
"Please, sweetheart. Let me explain-" Spencer begs, he knows if he leaves you right now there's no going back.
"Just go home, Spencer." You whisper, your voice breaking. You don't have the strength or a heart to shout at him to leave.
"No, I can't leave without an explanation," he stubbornly says," just give me 5 minutes, that's all I need, please."
You are very angry and upset with him, and you really really don't want him near you at the moment. You just want to curl up on your bed and cry, but you know Spencer, he has the kindest heart in the world. You know, that he wouldn't do anything to hurt you, especially not with cheating and you are most certain about it by just looking at his anxious face.
So you decide to hear him out, "o-okay, five minutes, that's all you get." You, despite your best friend's protests, hang up and listen to Spencer carefully. Tears still running down your cheeks and oh how does Spencer wish that he could wipe them away.
He explains how JJ's asked him for his opinion on her love speech for her and Will's wedding anniversary. She was worried it wasn't good enough, because she wanted Will to know how much she loves him even if they aren't together as often as they should be. So of course, Spencer agreed.
"-That's all it was. Nothing more, I swear. Even if JJ had those kind of feeling for me, i wouldn't care. Because there is only one person for me and that's you, nobody else," Spencer blurts it all out quickly, praying that you believe him. He doesn't think he can take it if you don't and decide you don't want to see him ever again.
Suddenly, you put your hands over your face, sniffling quietly, "I'm sorry."
Spencer is quick to cut the distance between the two of you. He sits next to you on the bed, his hands hovering uncertainly over you. He isn't sure, if you want his touch now.
"Sorry? For what, sweetheart?"
"For thinking that... -that you were cheating," you sadly mumble into your hands and Spencer feels like crying himself, too.
He softly pulls at your hands, until you reveal your tearstained face. He gently wipes away the wetness from your cheeks with the ends of his sleeves.
"No, I should be the sorry one. And I am. I shouldn't have let JJ tell me that o-or I should have at least mentioned to you, that she has a husband. I'm sorry, baby, I am such an idiot," he apologises, face twisted into a big sad frown.
"Yeah," you chuckle with a sniffle, he definitely is an idiot, even though he is painfully smart, "can-can I have a hug?" You question unhappily .
"Of course, sweetheart."
Spencer hugs you like his life depends on it and you don't mind one bit. It's a huge relief for both of you to be able to hold each other. Thankful, that it was just a big misunderstanding.
You hug for a long time, until your leg under you goes numb and Spencer needs to use the toilet. He looks at you, before going to pee and suddenly you feel bashful, "I know, I look awful."
Your face and eyes are red and puffy, hair a total mess, but in Spencer's eyes you are the most beautiful person in the whole world (because you are).
"Nope, you are beatiful as ever," he compliments you. He is looking overwhelmingly loving at you, that you think you might burst at the spot from.
"I love you, only you," he whispers as he leans in to give you a forehead kiss.
"I love you, too, Spence," you say and he only mouths 'I love you more' back at you as he runs to the bathroom.
Later that day, when you are all curled up at Spencer's side, he tells you all about his team, barely sparing any detail and promises to introduce you to them as soon as possible.
And it does happen. A week passes by and you find yourself being introduced to all his friends at one of the famous dinners at Rossi's.
They immediately love you. The girls pull you away from Spencer as soon as you step a foot inside the house to ask everything about you, as they fuss about how pretty you are.
Spencer watches you make friends with his Bau family with the biggest smile ever and you find yourself smiling through the whole evening, too.
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vodika-vibes · 28 days
Note
Heyy can you please please please
Do a ,, Ideal types of Wolffe, Rex, Jesse etc…“
Someone already did a bad Batch version but no one did a version of our other husbands that would be so nice
Ideal Types
Pairings: Captain Rex x Reader, Commander Wolffe x Reader, ARC Trooper Jesse x Reader, Commander Fox x Reader
Warnings: Uh...this is actually pretty angsty. Sorry.
Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly @stupendoussludgezinerebel-blog
A/N: I wasn't sure how many you wanted, so I went with four. I added Fox because I love him, lol. Also, this might not be, exactly, what you wanted. But I was feeling poetic this morning, and then angst monster smacked me with a baseball bat and yeah. I hope you like it!
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Captain Rex x Reader - A pillar. Someone who supports him through everything.
You smile at Rex, soft and warm and gentle as he rests his head on your lap. He’s more asleep than awake at this point, and you lightly trail the pads of your fingers over his short hair, careful to not wake him.
He’s so tired, your perfect Rex. Your handsome Captain.
But here, in the safety of your apartment, enveloped in your soft arms and soft scent, the stress lines on his face ease away, making him look his physical age, rather than much older.
He turns in his slumber, his face pressing against your stomach and his arms slide securely around your waist, clinging to you like a child would cling to a treasured blanket, and your smile softens.
He works so hard, your Rex. Has so much stress and responsibility laid upon his broad and strong shoulders. As if he's stuck bearing the weight of the galaxy.
But, right here, right now, you can bear that weight for him.
"Rest, my love." You whisper, your voice soft enough that he doesn't stir, "I have the watch."
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Commander Wolffe x Reader - A lighthouse, someone who is able to light his way home, even in the darkest of times.
"You're tense, Wolffe." Your voice is soft as you slide your hands over his shoulders to wrap him in a hug from behind. "Is everything alright?"
His smile is wry and slightly bitter, and you have your answer.
No. He's not alright. He's not been alright since the day he lost most of his battalion. Since the day his beautiful red armor bled all the color out and turned into the solemn grey of mourning.
It's a wound that still bleeds, you know.
You press a feather light kiss against the back of his neck and tighten your arms around him. You won't pressure him, you won't ask him questions.
For all that the curiosity burns, your love for him burns brighter. And so you hold him, and offer him your unyielding support.
He's lost in a maelstrom of grief and pain. A storm of sorrow buffets him from every angle. And there are no words that can ease his suffering.
And so you offer the only thing you can. Your silent support and your undying love. You'll be here to light his way back to shore, always. Forever.
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ARC Trooper Jesse x Reader - A sanctuary, someone where he's allowed to break and shatter, without fear of any consequences.
He's shaking.
Jesse's arms are firm around your, his face pressed against your neck as he lays on top of you...and he's shaking.
Trembling, really. Like a tooka kitten.
Your arms wrap around his broad shoulders and you turn your head to kiss the side of his head. You knew, of course, that this deployment was...bad.
But until this very moment, you had no idea how bad.
You won't ask, though you know he'll tell you if you did.
Even though your heart breaks when you feel his tears against your bare shoulder. And then it shatters when a sob rips from your Jesse's throat.
Even then, you still won't ask. You are his sanctuary, his safe place where he can be just a man, and not the strong soldier that he has to be every other day.
And when he, brokenly, whispers that he's applying for ARC, you just tighten your arms around him.
And you know, know, that this story ends in tragedy. But you'll continue being his safe place until it's not needed anymore.
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Commander Fox x Reader - A bulwark, a barrier between him and the rest of the galaxy. Someplace where he can feel safe.
Fox sighs, low and quiet as he looks up at you. He has dark circles under his eyes, he hasn't been sleeping again. But that's nothing compared to the angry bruises that you're treating for him.
"I'm sorry," he breathes out, "For being such a burden."
You smile at him, warm and loving, "You could never."
Something like distress slides across his face, "Cyare, I-"
"Shh," You soothe him with a gentle touch of your hand against his cheek, "Whatever it is, darling, it will hold. At least for now."
The distress remains, though it fades as you lovingly apply bacta to another bruise.
He suffers, your Fox. You see it more and more clearly with every passing day. He's losing time, he has growing blank spots in his memory...and it terrifies him.
It terrifies you too.
How long before he's not him anymore? Until he no longer looks at you with love and adoration, but with blank disregard.
You shove the thought to the side firmly. Right here, right now you have your Fox. And you will shield him from the rest of the galaxy, for as long as you can.
That's all you can do for him.
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Text
Hope Morphin Q&A
About a few months ago, I got a message from a surprising source: @hmrphin/Hope Morphin.
In case you don't know, Hope Morphin is a model and makeup artist who the character of Marc was based on. I also made a post about how their friendship with Astruc had ended thanks to the Rising Sun Flag controversy, which they had actually read one day. We talked a little, and they told me to message them on their Instagram to confirm that this is the real Hope.
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They said they'd be down to answer some questions, I came up with a few, and I got their permission to post this on my account. So, without further ado, as Sid the Science Kid once said, let's go get some answers.
Question: When did you and Thomas first get to know each other, and how?
Answer: It was years ago, when the series premiered on TFOU. There were a lot of people complaining on twitter that the characters of the show were in 3D instead of in 2D, and I answered one of Thomas' tweets saying that characters' butts looked better in 3D rather than in 2D (yeah, I had a terrible sense of humor back then, glad I don't do that anymore) and he answered "yeah we could say that lol". Then, it became a running gag between us on the web, and we met for the first time at a french convention called Japan Tours, the 2015 one. So yeah, I think it was when I was... 20/21 years old, something like that.
Question: It's okay. We've all been cringe at some point in their lives. Did you two meet up again after the convention?
Answer: Yup. In fact, after the convention, he sent me a friend request on Facebook. Then, we chatted for a bit and he asked me if I wanted to be a model for him, and I met him for the second time during that model session.
Question: How did Thomas approach you about creating a character in his show based on you?
Answer: So, it was after I modeled for him. It happened after S1 has ended, so when we were chatting, he asked me which one was my favorite character. I answered Nathaniel, because at this time I felt quite close to this one (we love the angsty artist boy lmao). He told me that he didn't understand people liking Nath because he found it was a very empty character aha, but then he told me that they were searching for inspiration to create a boyfriend for him. He told me he wanted the persons to be happy that he got a boyfriend and that they would “stop bothering him with Nathaniel”, and as he wanted to take inspiration on someone looking androgynous he thought I was a good inspiration, so I accepted.
Question: Interesting story. Didn't know Nathaniel was so popular before Season 2. Did you have any input in the creation of Marc in terms of stuff like his design or personality?
Answer: Yeah he rather was, I remember a lot of people wanted to see more of him ehe. Not at all, I even though that he was joking on the moment, then one day he sent me Marc's characters sheet. I had the same haircut back in the day. Also, I was always wearing armor rings and I was wearing those kind of rings when I had this conversation with him, and he told me that Marc was going to have one of those as his miraculous. I was also still writing a lot back in the days, so I guess he still did took some stuff there and there in my personality to create him.
Question: You mean this design?
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Answer: Yup! I was wearing only black sooo yeah the red and rainbow wasn't in my wardrobe aha.
Question: Do you know why they made the design rainbow themed?
Answer: Nah, he didn't told me :/ My guess is to make him more LGBT+ themed...
Question: Okay, sorry. Next question: What are your thoughts on Marc as a character? What do you think of his relationship with Nathaniel and his respective villain and hero forms, Reverser and Rooster Bold?
Answer: To be honest, when he first appeared, I really liked him. I thought he had a lot of potential as a character, his villain form was really cool and I really liked the ideas behind him, and I liked the relationship that he got with Nathaniel, from enemies to associates ehe. But after that... meh. There wasn't nothing much on the LGBT+ relationship with Nathaniel (we had to wait until the end of season 5 to see them hold hands... wow), and I didn't really find myself anymore in his character. I liked the design of his hero form and I liked the concept of his power, but like the other heroes that appeared during this episode, we didn't see Rooster Bold that much and I think that doesn't really make him feel appealing. I have the feeling that Marc and many other side characters could be way more develop in very cool subthemes but this is never really done in the series. Instead, now, they are just the characters getting out a whiteboard and giving terrible ideas to Marinette for her to date Adrien =="
Question: Just for fun, do you have any personal headcanons for Marc?
Answer: Well of course ehe, I have ton of those :D
Mmmh... For example, I think he is a dog person, that he's also fond of fashion such as Marinette but that he just don't have the patience to learn how to draw and how to design clothes... Also have the headcanon that him and Nath often meet at one of their places to do some little workshops together to work on their series and on tons of other projects :D
Got also tons of headcanon for future!Marc, such as him being a model for lgbt+ brands and Nath designing his clothes, I would love to see this shy patootie being at the front of the spotlight ehe, full of confidence and all :D There's tons of ideas to have with this character, I remember when I saw lots of artists drawing him with alternate clothes back in the day, such as shishitsunari or hazy (will try to find them back but it's been a while lol). I wish those clothing styles would be canon, with Marc rocking those kind of genderless clothes.
Links to fanart of Marc with different outfits: (https://www.deviantart.com/hazydayclouds/art/72918-756895643) and (https://ladyofacat.tumblr.com/post/176231424098/rises-from-the-underworld-marc-is-perfect-i-want)
Question: This one's a little tough, so if you don't want to answer, that's perfectly fine. What exactly went down before Thomas blocked you? Did you have any conversation online or in real life regarding the use of the Rising Sun Flag in "Ephemeral", or did Thomas just block you with no warning?
Answer: Honestly ? Blocked me without any warning. We were talking less and less, and, since I have affective dependancy, I had the feeling that I said / done something wrong. He was often answering only when I was defending him on social medias during these times. But we didn't have any harsh conversation from what I recall. So, I did the tweet about ephemeral, pointing out the use of the rising sun flag, and, well, maybe he had a plugin on twitter that blocked everyone using the term "flag", and maybe it blocked me automatically. The thing is : he has my number, he has my address (well, my old address now, lol). He had many ways to tell me this was a misunderstanding and that he didn't want to block me. He didn't call me, didn't send me any text after that to talk about it, so he clearly didn't want to make anything to sort out the problem. To this day, he still hasn't send me any message to talk about it. He commented on some of my facebook posts I did last year (I posted some makeups I did for my school) just saying it was cool, so... Yeah, not the type of friend I want to keep. I still have him as a friend on FB if I ever get the guts to try to send him a message to tell him everything that was wrong towards me and towards other people, but I clearly have other things to deal with lately.
Question: So he blocked you and didn't say anything else?
Answer: Yup, exactly, blocked me and didn't say anything else :/ After years of supporting him lmao.
Question: I'm really sorry to hear that. And you still haven't heard from him after all this time?
Answer: Well, apart from some comments he made on my facebook posts (I posted my makeup from my makeup school and he commented "very nice!") nothing at all. But honestly I'm not too bothered by that. I heard new stuff that he did prior and I really don't think it's a good idea that I interact with him again. I keep him in my facebook friends because maybe one day I'll send him a message to try to confront him, telling him that he had a very terrible behavior towards me and other people... But not today, I have other stuff to deal with.
Question: Despite everything that's happened between you and Thomas, do you still keep up with Miraculous Ladybug? If so, what do you think of it?
Answer:
Well, I've kept up with it because I still have lots of friends who are watching it (for example Octolady, Kogenta and Candy...), and they help me keep a little hype.
So I watched the episodes... There are some stuff that I like. There's good LGBT+ representation, and I like seeing an international known cartoon doing that (especially a french one since we have lots of far-right rising lately).
But honestly, I don't have the same hype as before. At the beginning, I was hyped because S1 looked awesome and had lots of cool fights, lots of wholesome characters and all, but the animation problems and differences are really making me bothered. Also, I have the feeling there's a lot of characters who could be more elaborated and who aren't, and... That's kinda sad, because there's a lot of topics that could be explored thanks to them and not just brushed off in one episode.
Plus, to be honest, I didn't really like the ending of S5. And I don't like the idea of it going on for seasons and seasons and seasons, milked until there's nothing more for it. The fewer the better in my mind...
I also seen the movie and didn't really liked it. Too much fanservice and didn't really made sense. The animation was nice, though.
Honestly, I love the writing team, they are wholesome people and they are doing their best for this show, but people like Thomas and Zag are the kind of people I don't want to support anymore. So yeah... To sum it up : still watching it from afar to see if nice stuff is happening, been pleased with some little stuff, displeased with a lot more, but I don't think I'll keep watching it both because I'm not that hyped up anymore and because I don't want to support anymore these 2 people. I supported Thomas too much before, was too attached to him and was a terrible person towards fans who didn't deserved it because I was too blind, so yeah, won't happen anymore.
Still, I'm glad there's still some people who are fans of Marc and who felt helped thanks to this character. I really hope he will have a better representation in the future (clear relationship with Nath, maybe even some trans / non-binary representation ?) in order to inspire young people.
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I'd like to personally thank Hope for being willing to answer my questions, and I highly reccommend giving their Instagram a follow.
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7ndipity · 1 year
Text
After a fight
Namjoon x Reader
Summary: When Joon gives you the silent treatment after a fight, you start to fear for the future of your relationship
Warnings: angst, swearing, not proofread
A/N: I meant to post this request last night, but I got stuck and ugh. We've had a little bit of a theme with the angsty requests this week, huh? I need to go write smth fluffy now, lol (Also, omg we just 500 followers?!)
Masterlist
Requests are open
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Stupid. It was just a stupid fight. You kept thinking to yourself as you paced around your empty apartment, watching as yet another hour ticked by without a word from Joon.
The two of you had gotten into a argument that morning over something small that didn't even really matter, and certainly didn't deserve the level of intensity that you had both responded with. You'd both said things you shouldn't have, resulting in Namjoon leaving for the studio without so much as a goodbye, slamming the door behind him.
Once you'd had some time to cool down though, you had realized how you had let things get out of hand and had texted him, saying that you shouldn't have lost your temper, and to please call you. But each message had been met with stony silence.
At first, you'd understood his lack of responses, he was upset and needed time as well, but as one hour had rolled into another, and then another, you could feel a sinking weight beginning to form in your stomach.
It certainly wasn't the first time you'd fought, but it was the first time that he'd gone this long without at least checking in on you, which began to make you worry that maybe you had pushed too far this time.
By this point, it was now late in the evening and with still no word from him, your fears were starting to eat away at you as you grew more anxious.
What if it was one stupid fight too many? What if he had decided he'd had enough?
Tears burning your eyes at the thought, you sank onto the couch, burying your face in your hands as you wept.
"Y/n?"
You hadn't heard the front door open, but you were now very aware of his eyes and hands on you, as he checked you over for any sign of injury or illness. "Are you okay?"
"I'm sorry." You said, trying to fight back a sob. "I-I shouldn't have said any of those things to you. You can be mad at me, I'm just so sorry."
"Shit." He sighed, now understanding and pulling you into his hold. "I'm sorry too, baby."
The two of you sat together, mumbling apologies to each other as you fought to get your emotions back under control.
"This morning, what I said-" You started, but he was quick to stop you.
"Let's just forget about this morning?" He suggested, sensing your lingering guilt.
"I would love that." You said. "I love you."
"I love you too." He said. "I'm sorry I didn't call earlier."
" 's okay." You sniffled.
"It's not. I should've just talked to you, instead of storming of like that."
"I thought we were gonna forget about that?" You poked him, making him finally crack a smile.
"Alright then. Did you eat yet? Wanna order something?"
"Mhm." You agreed, letting him pick whatever he wanted. So long as you could stay close together, you were fine with anything.
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Text
(HCs) When they hurt your feelings
joel miller, miguel o'hara, steven grant, steve rogers, loki
reader is: female
warnings: cursing. some more comedic, some more angsty. references to friends the tv show.
a/n: I think Joel, Miguel, and the Moon Knight boys will forever be included in my hcs lol
Joel Miller
You were already glaring at him before, now you looked like you wanted to boil him alive. "You know that's not what I meant." Joel tried to reason. He had just called you high maintenance, and you were beyond offended. So you asked him to get you flowers sometimes, or show a little affection when you're in front of friends -- were those too much to ask? "I think you meant exactly what you said." You sneered. Joel knew he fucked up. He waited a beat and took a deep breath before approaching you, caressing both his hands on your crossed ones. The moves one would make when trying to calm the other person. "I'm sorry, sweetheart." He apologized. "Look, yes, you might be slightly higher maintenance, but.. you know what? I'd do anything you want. Because I like maintainin' ya." You gave him a look of disbelief. "Really Joel? You tweaked a line from FRIENDS?" "Darn. I thought that would work."
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Miguel O'Hara
"Hermosa, I-" Miguel felt immense guilt when you refused to let him touch you. You'd failed on missions before, but it was never as bad as this. You knew you could've done better, but you didn't expect Miguel to scold you like he did. He looked at you with so much disappointment in his eyes, and then he turned his back on you. He only realized that he was probably overreacting when you just said 'sorry' and nothing else. Not even trying to defend yourself. Tears were threatening to fall from your eyes, and then it was your turn to turn your back. But before you could actually leave, Miguel stopped you and hugged you from behind. He's a lot taller and stronger than you. There was no point in fighting back. "Lo siento, amor." He whispered. "I shouldn't have said those things to you." You sighed, leaning into his embrace. How could you ever stay mad at this man?
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Steven Grant
Layla, Layla, Layla. That's all he ever talked about. Layla this, Layla that. It wasn't until you said "why don't you date Layla instead then" in one of your arguments that Steven muttered, "Believe me, I would if I could." Instant regret. "No, no, no, that's not- I didn't-" You were already grabbing your things and on your way out. Even Jake and Marc knew Steven made a huge mistake -- and they thought he'd be invincible against you. Steven was the golden boy, the boy who could do no wrong. But now since Layla appeared, it seemed like the only person he wanted to impress was her. "Whew, you think there's a chance she might forgive him for that one?" Marc asked Jake knowing Steven could listen. "Ay no." Jake shook his head. "There's no saving yourself from that one. He's doomed." Steven glared at them both and chased after you.
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Steve Rogers
He mentioned Peggy while he was out cold after a mission. A few times. How were you supposed to compete with that? A love story that lasted over 70 years. What were you even doing falling in love with Steve Rogers anyway? You stayed by his side until the moment he woke up. You didn't know how to face him. So you avoided him while he was being treated in the hospital, but couldn't anymore when he was finally discharged. "Are you done avoiding me?" Your jaw clenched when you saw Steve waiting by your apartment. You could only ignore him. "Sam told me what happened." He pushed himself off your door and walked towards you. "Doll, she's.. Peggy's gone. You're the only one I want. You know that." You sighed. "Steve, Tony created a time machine. You went back and you saw her. Can you honestly look me in the eye and tell me you don't think about going back there now and staying with her?" He stayed silent. And that was the only answer you needed.
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Loki
"Oh, must you cry ALL the time??" Loki yelled, clearly frustrated that you're on the bed, crying over a movie you've never watched before. It only made you cry more. Loki sighed and pulled you into his arms. Maybe you weren't one for tough love. He caressed your hair and smiled when your sobs finally turned into sniffles. "There, there." He comforted you. "You've only got Beth's death left." "WHAT?!" Loki sensed that he might have made a mistake in telling you that bit of information. "Beth dies???" You choked, "No- Now I don't want to watch it anymore! Why would you tell me that???" He was speechless. He could only hold you again and hand you tissues. Why did he tell you that?
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angels-fantasy · 2 months
Note
Congratulations on your followers milestone! Can I ask for the prompt "first fight" with Dabi?
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Scars and All
Dabi/Touya x Reader
Details/Warnings: lowkey toxic relationship, arguing, kinda angsty LMAO i'm sorry i cant help but make dabi angsty. hurt/comfort i think, angst to fluff? dabi is trying, okay? also dabi is called touya in this fic!
Word Count: 957
hello thank you sm for your ask and the congratulations :) i hope you like this, i really like dabi bc 1) hes hot lol and 2) hes such a well written character. also i'm going to start writing in all lowercase bc its what im used to and upper case drives me crazy!!
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loneliness was something that consumed you constantly. it was a scary feeling sometimes, especially because of the things it could drive someone to do.
you wished you didn't feel like this, but you couldn't help it.
before getting into a relationship with touya, you knew of the lifestyle he lived and how much of his time it took up. at first you thought you could handle it, but over time you soon realized that wasn't true. hours of him being gone quickly turned into days, sometimes even weeks and it was driving you crazy. you really wanted to try and continue to sit compliantly and let him do what he wished to do, but you were at your wits end.
sometimes you wondered why you even continued to put up with him, especially when you knew deep down that he'd probably choose to continue committing villainous acts over your relationship.
but you knew the answer to that-it was because you loved him, and sometimes love can make you do crazy things.
so now here you were; sitting on the old couch in your living room. the edges of the fabric having frayed ends and burn marks here and there from the moments touya let his temper get the best of him.
you can't remember how long you've been sitting there anxiously, waiting for your boyfriend to get home, but you felt your heart beat faster when you heard the front door being unlocked.
you wiped your sweaty palms on your pants and took a deep breath, trying to prepare yourself to confront touya, who sighed as he walked through the door and his heavy boots thudding along with each step.
he walked over to you and threw himself down on the couch, placing an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into him. moments like this made it hard to stay mad.
he placed a kiss on your temple, "hey. you miss me?"
you fiddled with your fingers as you leaned further into his chest, "of course i did. i'm glad you're home."
he tilted his head down to look at you, "then how come you don't sound happy, huh?" he asked, squeezing your shoulder as he did so.
you frowned, knowing he'd caught onto your bad mood already. he was way too perceptive sometimes.
"i am happy touya, i promise." you insisted, "it's just..."
"it's just what?"
you sat up from your position and faced him, but it was hard to look him in the eyes. "i just wanted to talk to you about something that's been bothering me."
he looked at you for a moment, expressionless, making you even more nervous until he said, "alright, what is it?"
you took a deep breath.
"you're never home touya, and i miss you." you frowned, "i worry about you and when you're gone for so long i get lonely. i miss spending time with you."
he groaned, "babe, do you not understand why i'm gone? or do i need to tell you, is that it?" he asked.
you regretted this now.
"no, i know why but it's just-"
"if you know why, then why do you fucking ask me?!" he yelled, making you shrink into yourself. you two had bickered over things before and there were even times when you needed space from each other, but touya had never yelled at you like this.
you could feel your eyes prick with tears and the lump in your throat grow, "touya don't yell at me!" you cried.
"i'm yelling at you so you get this through your god damn head!" he snapped, "i can't be here, sitting on my ass like you every fucking day. i have shit i need to do to make my plans happen!"
you gasped at his words. did he really think that's all you did?
"you know damn well i don't just stay at home on my ass, touya! i work too!" you said, tapping his chest with your finger as you pointed it at him.
"i buy the groceries! i make the food! i wash your blood stained clothes! i do everything i can, but you don't know because you're never here!" you yelled, taking a deep breath after so you could continue speaking.
you sighed heavily and spoke softly, your energy gone from yelling. "you're never here touya..." you sniffed, letting the tears run down your cheeks. you brought your hands up to your eyes to wipe them away, "i love you, so i miss you. i just wish you were home more so i don't have to spend my nights all alone."
touya was breathing heavily, but sitting silently as he processed your words. he was perceptive, sure, but he wasn't really good with emotions and dealing with people when they were upset.
feeling guilty, he wrapped his arms around your crying figure and hugged you tightly to his chest. he brought a hand up to your head and stroked it gently, shushing your cries. you stayed like that until your crying had become sniffles with occasional hiccups.
"i'm sorry," he said softly, "i'm sorry i'm always gone. i fucking suck at this, i don't know how to be here for you... but i'm going to do better now, for you, okay? i love you too. i don't say that enough."
you brought your hands away from your face and wrapped your arms around his waist, leaning your head against his beating heart and closing your eyes.
"as long as you try, touya. i know you're not perfect, and that's okay with me. i love you the way you are."
"scars and all?" he asked jokingly, making you giggle.
"scars and all."
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authors note
love ya!
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cringe-but-proud · 4 months
Note
Can you do a story were you date Sirius so he can actually Date Remus and reg don't know and likes you and gets jealous
If you can thx you <3
I didn't think I'd like writing this as much as I did lol.
Regulus Black x Fem!Reader
Some Warnings: Technically a modern AU, a bit of cursing, mentions of a bad home life, jealous Reg, sort of angsty???
A/n: I made this new Year's themed even though new years has passed ��� Cause y'all can't stop me 🤬🤬🤬 This is DEFINITELY my longest fic yet. PLEASE DON'T LET IT FLOP GUYS.... My requests are open btw
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Ah, winter break. It was something everyone at Hogwarts looked forward to. Well, almost everyone. There were those who didn't get to go home to their families and some who wished they didn't have to go home to their families.
One of those people was a friend of yours, Sirius Black. He often avoided talking about his home life, but you knew it wasn't good. And you knew going home for the holidays could be hard for him. So, when it was the day before winter break and the two of you had a moment alone, you asked if there was anything you could do to make the break easier for him.
"I need you to be my girlfriend."
Seven words you'd never expected to hear from your best friend. Your best friend who was in a gay relationship, nonetheless.
"What?" You asked in bewilderment. "No!"
"Wait, wait, wait. It's not what you think." Sirius put his hands up as if to show his innocence. "I don't really want you to be my girlfriend. I just need you to pretend. Please."
"Why?!"
"Because," he explained. "My parents have started to get... Suspicious about my total lack of any girlfriend. And I may have told them that I was dating you.... Y'know, to throw them off my track..."
You stared at him. "You told your parents we were dating?!" You repeated, clearly upset at him.
"I know, I know. It was a shitty thing to do, and I'm sorry." He says. "But, if I didn't give them some sort of excuse, they might've found out about me and Remus!"
You were still upset, but you could understand why he did what he did. "So..." You crossed your arms. "You said I need to pretend to date you. What is it exactly that you need me to do?"
"Over the break, I need you to come over for a couple days. My parents will meet you, get to know you, blah, blah, blah. And then, you'll never have to speak with them again. If they ask about you after that, I'll say we broke up."
You really weren't a fan of having to fake date your best friend. You also weren't a fan of having to meet his parents who you'd only heard negative things about. But... You knew how happy he was with Remus and you would hate for his parents to find out about the two. You sighed. "You're lucky we're friends."
"Is that an agreement?" He asked, a grateful smile on his face.
"Yes. But, you'll be forever in debt to me."
"Fine by me."
The next day, while on the train to 9 3/4, you and Sirius mostly just planned for you having to meet his parents. You decided that you'd arrive the day after Christmas, stay for news years eve, and leave new Year's Day.
A lot of the train ride was spent establishing some basic facts about your "relationship". How you'd met, your first date, what your wedding would be like (which was strange, but Sirius assured you that his parents would ask about marriage), and some other details.
Soon enough, the train ride was over. Your winter break was fine. You enjoyed getting to see your family, but you were quite stressed about seeing Sirius' family. Part of you wanted to call the whole thing off, but you knew that was out of the question. You had to do this. For Sirius.
The morning of December 26th was a cold one. You wished you'd had more protection against the cold, but the formal attire you were wearing could only do so much. Sirius had told you to bring nice, formal clothing for the few days you'd be there. You were a bit worried you'd still be underdressed, though.
You took a deep breath and knocked on the door to the literal mansion that Sirius lived in.
After a few moments, the door opened. Regulus black stood on the other side.
Oh.
"Hi." You greeted, trying to politely smile at him. He didn't return the gesture. He did the opposite he gave you a look of... Annoyance?
"You're here for Sirius."
You couldn't tell if it was a question or a statement, so you just gave a nod.
He stepped aside to let you in, his eyes trailing over your attire, making you feel nervous. "He's in the living room with mother and father." Regulus said before walking off.
What a strange interaction. You and Regulus weren't close, by any means. But, you never thought he disliked you. You thought the opposite was true. Whenever the two of you did interact, he was always quite nice.
You tried to shrug off the interaction, but you just couldn't. Even when you were next to Sirius, meeting his parents for the first time, the way he'd acted toward you was on your mind.
The worst part of your day was dinner. You were worried about everything. How you were eating, how you were sitting, the way everyone was looking at you, the way Regulus was looking at you.
"Y/n," You were broken out of your thoughts by Walburga's authoritative voice. "I want to know how you and Sirius began seeing each other."
You nervously glanced over to Sirius who gave you a forced looking smile. You looked back to Walburga. Gods, she scared you. "Well, it wasn't too long ago." You said, trying your hardest not to break eye contact with her. "It was late September. He told me since we'd known each other for so long, he thought we'd be a good match."
Sirius nodded along. "We went on a couple dates, turns out we really like each other." He said.
You glanced over to Regulus. He was glaring at you. You didn't break eye contact and after a moment something else flashed through his eyes. Something softer. Sadness?
"So," Walburga broke your attention away from Regulus as you looked back to her. "Are you serious about your relationship with my son?"
"Very." You replied.
"Do the two of you plan on marrying?"
You swallowed. "As soon as possible."
You heard silverware clatter as Regulus abruptly stood up. "I need to be excused." He said lowly.
Walburga raised an eyebrow. "You've hardly eaten." She stated. There wasn't any concern in her voice like you'd expect. It was a blatant statement.
"I know." He says. "I'm done."
His mother gave him a disapproving look, but didn't object.
Regulus stormed out of the room. You couldn't help but frown as you watched him leave.
The next few days were a bit uneventful. Most of your time was either spent in the guest bedroom you were staying in, or talking with Sirius. You were still confused by Regulus' attitude toward you. You knew his and Sirius' relationship was a rocky one. But, you didn't think that affected what he thought of you. He'd known you and Sirius were friends, and he still treated you kindly. But, now that the two of you were pretending to date, he had a problem with it? It didn't make any sense!
It was December 31st now. You and Sirius were sitting in his room, eating lunch while sitting on the floor.
"I was thinking-"
"Oh, God."
"Shut up, let me finish." Sirius chuckled, playfully hitting your arm. "I was thinking about going to a party tonight."
You furrowed your brows. "Where?"
"James and his family have a new years party every year. I'm sure they wouldn't mind some extra company."
You thought about it. Honestly, you weren't really in the mood for a party. Plus, if his parents caught you sneaking out, your heart would probably stop. "I think I'll sit this one out." You said after a moment.
"You sure?"
You gave a nod. "Yeah, I'd rather stay in. I'm sure you'll have plenty of fun without me."
"Oh, I will."
You smacked his arm.
The clock read 11:39. You were alone in your guest room sitting in your bed. You had your laptop open in front of you as you watched a broadcasting of one of the many new Year's events that were going on tonight. You were absentmindedly looking at the crowded city streets displayed on your screen when-
"I wouldn't be using that while having the door open." Regulus said. He stood in the doorway, arms crossed, looking from you, to the laptop, and then back to you.
"Why not?" You asked.
"My mother doesn't approve of us using muggle technology." He said. "And I doubt she'd be okay with her son's girlfriend using it."
You sighed. "Right... Girlfriend."
Regulus raised a brow at how you'd said that. "What are you watching, anyway?" He stepped into the room, closing the door behind him.
"A new Year's parade."
"... Could I join you?"
You were surprised at that. After how cold he'd been acting toward you over the past few days, you'd assumed the last thing he'd want to do tonight is spend time with you. But, you weren't against the idea of not being alone when the new Year started.
"Sure." You replied as you moved over on the bed to make room for him to sit.
The two of you watched the parade in silence for a few minutes until Regulus spoke. "How come I had no idea you and Sirius were dating?" He asked.
You glanced over at him. "What do you mean?"
"You said the two of you had been together since late September." He said. "How come nobody knew about it?"
You subconsciously began to fiddle with the fabric of your shirt. "I don't know." You shrugged. "Guess we weren't shouting about it from the rooftops."
Regulus didn't break his gaze away from you. After a pause, he spoke. "I never would've guessed you liked him in that way."
You didn't know how to reply to that, so you just shrugged again.
Regulus was still looking at you, even though your gaze was focused on the screen in front of you.
He paused. "What made you fall for him?" He asked.
You thought it was an odd question. When you turned to look at him, he looked sort of sad. "He..." You trailed off.
Regulus looked at you expectantly. You were trying to come up with something, but your mind was blank.
"You do like him don't you?"
You looked away nervously. You began to wonder whether or not he'd even care that your relationship with Sirius was fake. If he really was upset about you dating Sirius, then wouldn't he like to know that it was all just pretend?
"Y/n." He said your name and you were pulled away from your thoughts.
"He's not actually my boyfriend." You blurted out.
Regulus paused. "What?"
"He asked me to pretend to be his girlfriend. He didn't want Walburga finding out about his actual relationship, so-"
"It's all fake?" He asked.
"All of it."
"You don't like him?"
"Not like that."
You swore you saw a sliver of a smile creep on to his face. "That's... Good."
You tilted your head. "Is it?"
"I mean..." He shrugged. "I just... I guess thinking you'd gotten with my brother was making me upset." He said.
"Why?"
"Because..." He hesitated. "I like you, Y/n."
You felt your heart skip a beat. Fuck, that actually explained a lot. You couldn't believe you hadn't realized sooner. You felt your face heat up. "Seriously?"
"Yeah." He sighed. "I was jealous. That's why I was acting so... Weird. Sorry for being such an asshole to you."
"That's alright." You paused. "Why didn't you tell me sooner? About your feelings, I mean."
He shrugged. "I didn't think you'd feel the same."
Honestly, you'd always found Regulus quite attractive. But, you figured there was no way he'd ever like you back, so you let go of that silly crush a while ago. But, this? This was making all of those feelings wash over you again.
It was 11:59 now. You could hear the commentators of the parade excitedly get ready for the countdown.
"I feel the same." You said, watching as a blush creeped on to his cheeks.
"Really?"
"Really."
His eyes seemed to sparkle at your admission. "I..."
You heard the countdown to the new Year begin.
"Can I kiss you?" Regulus asked softly. You nodded.
"Five!"
He leaned closer.
"Four!"
Your tongue darted out to wet your lips.
"Three!"
His hands came up to cup your cheeks.
"Two!"
He closed his eyes. You closed yours.
"One!"
Your lips met in a soft, romantic kiss. He brushed some hair out of your face and Gods, his hands were soft. You couldn't believe you'd ever managed to stop liking him.
When you pulled away he sighed contently as if that kiss was all he'd been needing his entire life.
You whispered something to him before pulling him in for another kiss.
"Happy new year."
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itsgrimeytime · 1 year
Text
The Nurse (Part Five) || Rick Grimes (TWD)
Part One, Two, Three, Four, Five
Taglist: @strnqer @1985bitch @curlycarley @imaginemyfavoritefics @t-uroboros @crazytxgradstudent @addisonnie @whos6claire @taylvvrr @quicksilversg1rl @catt-leya @1tsk1tty @pascalshearts @hopefulatrocity @xoyouronlyamorrxo @fuseburner @idkseraphine @all-for-kpop @carlgrimeskisser @emo-potato-virgil @timotheesrealgf
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Summary: Before all this, you were a nurse. A nurse who had patients, one of which was a man in a coma. A sheriff, you think, it was all kinda fuzzy now. When it all went sideways, you set up what you could for the man - but had to leave. You'd always wondered where he'd ended up; until in your search of shelter, you run into a familiar face.
TWS: Blood, gore, mentions of death, gun violence (just violence in general), swearing, angst, angsty!Rick, hallucinations, and all things typical of TWD.
[[A/N: Much happier vibes this time around, but I figured a story like this one should be a little bittersweet. This one has got the good stuff. (Farmer Rick, patching up his wounds, TENSION, etc.) Also sorry if you're good at juggling, this is no longer realistic for you lol. Thank you for reading. ]]
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"Alright," you hummed, bandaging up the hand, "-just try and keep the bandage clean, we're really only worried about infection."
Glenn nodded, simply just listening to you, "Right."
"Oh," you remembered, grabbing up just two bandages and antiseptic, "-and here's some replacements, just in case you get into something that can't wait."
"Got it," Glenn spoke, standing and kind of roaming towards the door, "-and how often should I check in with you?"
"Once a week," you answered, "-just to make sure the inflammation has gone down."
With confirmation and a smile that only Glenn could produce on prison grounds, your space was empty. You'd had a makeshift area down in one of the front offices of the prison because, well, the medbay was currently... off limits, so to speak. Your most important supplies, though, stayed on your person -certain medicine types and a few medical instruments in a fanny pack often hanging over your shoulder (unless you needed your hands).
You sighed, wiping your hands off with a spare rag, pushing your fingers into your temples for a bit of headache relief. It wasn't hurting in that moment, but you could feel the pressure building, keeping an eye on yourself was hard enough as is.
It was really not the time.
Muttering, you rifled through a few of your drawers -trying to keep track of the supplies was key to this working out in the long run. So, you were running through what you'd given out and what you still had. Eager to make lists for runners later on in the week.
Hershel still helped sometimes, so you couldn't always get the amount used down to a science, but you could get close enough. It worked.
"Hello?" a voice spoke, the drawl ever so familiar to you, "-Anybody in here?"
You, who were currently ducked behind a cabinet rifling through supplies, didn't even think about the fact you weren't visible, calling out, "Just a minute!"
"Alright," Rick hummed in response, seeming to trail off in his speech -looking at something else you assumed.
"Okay," you scribbled down some more numbers, before coming to eye level with Rick -focused and a touch playful, "-So, what can I do for you today, Mr. Grimes?"
Rick smiled, light and airy, "Mr. Grimes, huh? 'Been a long time since I heard that one."
You looked at him, donned in a plaid shirt and sweat dripping down his face -hands dusted in dirt, and pants even worse. But still, his blue eyes twinkled. Ever since he'd started to work on the farm, you'd seen that haze clear. He seemed to find it calming, easier to manage. You were happy for him.
"Too professional for you?" You hummed, trailing your fingers along some of the bandages -keeping count in your head.
Rick smiled before muttering off -tone soft and reminiscent, "Just feels like a different time."
The lull in conversation brought you back to the issue at hand, Rick was one to work as long as he could. Doing only a few checkups throughout the day, he'd found himself busy often. Or you guessed, you found him busy often; that was very much on purpose, though.
"Alright, enough of that, what do you need from me?" You questioned, fully focused on him now; the man had a tendency to under sell his injuries, so you'd need to see it.
"Hershel told me to come see you," he spoke, drawl slow and sure, "-I fell on one of the runs recently. Got a scratch on my chest. He patched it up a little, but-"
"He wanted me to take a look?"
"Yeah," Rick confirmed as you motioned to a chair -dousing your hands with some antibacterial.
He was sitting on a stool, one someone probably found in an old bar, the leather was worn, and the metal squeaked loud any time you so much as breathed. It would work.
You took your place beside him, pulling out some extra bandages, "Which side? And what exactly did Hershel do?"
"My right," he answered, and you moved to that side, "-and just cleaned it and bandaged it up tight."
"Okay," you noted, grabbing a few extra things (most likely looking like a chicken with your head cut off) before spinning around. Where he was sitting as still as a statue, "-Rick? You okay?"
He blinked, eyes cleared of the daze he'd apparent found himself in, "Oh, yeah, sorry. It's just... nice."
"Nice?" You questioned, furrowing your eyebrows together, and pulling up your own stool close to him.
"You," he paused, before stuttering through the rest -hand going to rub at the back of his neck, "-bein' in your element, I mean."
"Oh," you responded, softly -ignoring the soft blush rising to your ears, "-well, thank you."
He smiled at you, and the silent buzz was nice, warm even. You really couldn't dwell on it, though, not sitting this close to him.
"Alright, cowboy," you spoke, "-let's see."
Rolling his eyes at 'cowboy', you assumed anyway, his hands made quick work of the edge of the shirt, pulling it up in a swift movement. Just an edge.
You held your breath, watching as unblemished skin matched your eyes, and suddenly, you realized that it was much higher than you'd anticipated. So, that wasn't going to work.
"Rick, I'm not pressuring you into anything, but-" you spoke, kind and soft, this was a personal boundary, you'd treat it as such, "-I think the shirt's going to have to come off."
There was a moment there, where he just stared at you in silence -eyes focused and intent- and you were truly worried you'd just crossed a boundary.
"If you're not comfortable with that-"
"No, no," he shook the motion off, clearing his throat to himself -to clear the air maybe, "-it's alright. Just been a while."
You laughed, tilting your head a bit in curiousity, "Since what, exactly? Since you took your shirt off? Rick, you did that yesterday-"
"Oh?" he hummed, a smirk peeking at his lips, "-Didn't know I had an audience."
"Ha, ha-" you rolled your eyes, ignoring the buzz of warmth that hit your cheeks -he could not see that, "-you're just stalling."
Rick raised his hands in defeat, smiling at you in a way that you wish you could keep for yourself for later. His smiles had always been so bright, you supposed that was why you could notice when it was absent for a while.
Digging through your bag, you saw movement out of the corner of your eye, the fluid motion quick -so quick you'd hardly noticed it, really. He'd done it enough, you assumed.
Not the time, you chastised yourself, not letting your mind linger on that fact. Not now, you were professional.
"Okay," you pulled out some of the materials you may need, "Let's see what you've-"
Your eyes flew up to see his chest, which was bandaged, wrapped tightly around his sternum. They had gone over his right shoulder and under his left arm, the blood stain just a bit under his collar bone and down from there. It didn't seem too long, based solely on the pattern.
You were completely focused now, eyes drawn across the bandage and fingers dancing along the stain, "Did Hershel tell you how deep it was?"
"No," Rick answered, and it took you a bit out of you to hear him so close -drawl low and gravely, "-we didn't have much time. Needed to stop the blood, I'd guess."
Fingertips fluttering over the torn edges of the bandages, you could feel the heat of his skin a breath away. You pursed your lips, these bandages were quite worn, "And when was this?"
"About a week ago," Rick answered.
"Rick..."
"I know, I hear you," he started, explaining himself, "-it was the last run, ran over a bit. Had to camp out, remember?"
You hummed in confirmation -relaxing in the slightest, before continuing, "Did you have somebody check it then?"
"Couldn't chance it," he explained, tone soft and earnest, "-any fresh blood woulda been dangerous."
"Okay," you exhaled, "-okay. I understand, Rick, you shouldn't have to explain yourself to me."
Rick interrupted tone solid and unwavering, "I want to. You should- No, I want you to know."
"Okay," you whispered, softly, a bit speechless at the admitance, "-thank you."
There was a fizzling there, as you sat a breath away from him -fingers laid gently on his chest and barely a bandage between your fingertips and his skin. You could even feel the heat there, gentle gusts against your fingertips.
You took the biggest breath you could take without startling the man, deep and focused. Not the time to let your mind wonder.
"Okay, I just need-" you pulled back, the fizzle dissipating and began searching for one of your sharp edges... particularly one you could wipe down ahead of time, "-here it is."
Within seconds, you'd doused the instrument in whatever you could nearby, wiping it solidly with a cloth that has been safely sealed ahead of time.
"You're fast," Rick spoke up, eyes apparently watching you as your roamed around the room -gathering a few extra things in case of worst case scenario.
"You'll get used to it," you smiled, chuckling and making your way back to the chair -where he sat, his own little smile on his face, "-Alright, so, first order of business, Rick."
He blinked, and sat up a bit straighter in your gaze.
"If anything hurts, you tell me," you asserted, eyes connected to his directly, "-this will go as comfortably as it can."
"'Course," he answered, serious and eyes unwavering, before cracking a smile, "-plus, can't disobey doctor's orders, can I?"
You snorted, scooting in closer and trying to find a comfortable place to start, "Whatever you say, Grimes."
He laughed, small but still felt nice against your ears and on instinct, you smiled brightly. He was contagious. To you, anyway.
With a steady hand on the tool and the other gently holding his shoulder, you gently pressed it along the bandage. The threads unweaving themselves with the movement, almost like a seam breaking, it seemed quite fluid.
Gently peeling back the bandages, which were solidly tightened around his skin, your fingers drifted across the newly exposed skin. Even for just a second and your heart would jump out of your chest. You held the hitch in your breath without thought -you really needed to be focused right now.
And there it was.
The cut wasn't too much to look at. It was thin -the edges were a bit dirty from the worn bandage you assumed. No telltale symptoms of infection, you let out a hum of relief.
"Good," you spoke, mostly to yourself, leaning back from his space -sorting through your supplies.
Rick spoke, questioning, "Everything alright?"
"All good," you answered, hands preoccupied, "-just needs a bit of cleaning up. You're lucky, though. It's healing on its own."
"Lucky?" he hummed, watching you move across the space -eyes trailing behind you.
"Would've needed stitches, otherwise," you answered, dousing the cloth in your hands, "-although, I'm sure a scar would fit you well, cowboy."
Rick chuckled, motioning towards his other shoulder, "Already got one."
You paused, looking towards the shoulder; there it was. The wound you knew him from. It reminded you of so long ago, your coworkers, your friends, your boss-
"Right," you hummed, settling down back into your chair, "-I remember."
He shook his head, a little in disbelief, "Right, you were there."
"I was," with a distant hum, you pushed forward -warning before you started, "This might sting a bit. Feel free to keep talking if it helps. I'm told I'm a good listener."
"Oh, really?" his tone quirked in interest, and you could feel the familiar playfulness seep into his tone.
"What? You don't think so?" you questioned, gently dabbing at the cut -soft and gentle.
"No," he began, voice smooth and gravelly, "-just wonderin' what you aren't good at."
"Well, I could tell you that, cowboy," you smirked -the peek of a smile on your lips, "-if that's what you want."
He chuckled, slightly wincing as you cleaned the skin around the cut, "I'm all ears."
"Hmm, let's see," you hummed, pulling back and unraveling some bandages, "-I've never been good at juggling."
Rick laughed, his body leaning forward, his shoulder bumping into yours. There was a buzz there, between your skin and his - and your nose filled with the familiar smell of just... musk, strong wood tones, and a bit of dirt.
You blinked, bringing yourself back down from your head, where Rick was looking at you with a smile -the crinkling by his eyes sending warmth through your skin, "What?"
"Juggling?" He questioned, "That's all you got?"
"No," you laughed, pulling out the bandage and holding your hand in the beginning place of the wrap, "-you didn't let me finish."
"Go right ahead," he spoke, his tone lilting to a tease -you knew it well.
"Don't try me, Grimes," you tsked, before rearranging your hands, to hold the bandage in place, "-here, hold this."
Unflinchingly, he moved his hand where yours was -his fingertips (calloused) brushing against yours with a spark. You try to school your facial expression, cursing at the rising pink on your cheeks. Just because he was pretty and the low drawl of his voice was insanely attractive-
"Okay," you threaded the bandage around his shoulder, leveling to his eyes but not looking there -preoccupied with the placement, "-now. Something I'm not good at... You know, I used to think I wasn't good with kids."
"Really?" Rick asked, disbelieving, and you could feel his breath on your face -puffs of breath across the bridge of your nose.
"Yeah," you answered, humming as your hands completed the motion, "-why? You don't believe it?"
"I don't," He answered, simply and honestly, "-just... You with Judith and Carl... I'm surprised you ever thought you were bad at it."
"Well," you hummed, feeling oddly flattered, "-thank you."
"No, actually-" he began, tone a bit unresolved, "-I never... I never thanked you for taking care 'em. When I was..."
"Rick..." you interrupted, looking into his eyes -attentive and gentle, "-you don't have to."
"No, no, I do," his voice was thick with earnestness, "-I wasn't. I couldn't even think straight... And you- And everybody took care of 'em for me. You deserve a thanks."
You faltered, blue eyes so open and honest -it was so familiar, the same stare burned in your head so long ago. The one you couldn't shake as you watched over him when the world was falling apart, still stuck to your brain as you ran through the woods scared of every step you heard.
It would never leave, not now.
There was a cut along his cheekbone, thin, maybe from a tree branch snapping in his face. Your hand almost naturally went to it, to trace it with your fingertips. You held it back, fingers tightening on the bandage slightly.
"Rick," you hummed, holding your hand where it was -despite your instincts being elsewhere, "-it's really nothing. I'd do anything for them. For you, even. You needed your time, I'm not- You're a great father, you just couldn't be one then. So I helped, really."
He stared at you, eyes bright and warm -he looked like he was just analyzing you. Eyes skimming across your face in rapid succession, like he was trying to understand you, dissect you.
"Okay," he sighed, a hand laying on top of yours -soft, gentle, it sent a shiver down your spine, "-okay."
You exhaled, shaky and your head filled with a fuzz of intimacy, affection, that you hadn't felt in so... long. You felt safe, here with him. Seen amidst the darkest things you'd ever laid eyed on was Rick, and his open vulnerability that you could never shake.
Slow breathing, you had a thought. Just one thought and your eyes almost dipped to his lips. It felt so natural then, just lean a bit forward and-
Clearing your throat, you shook your head before scooting back just a touch -you couldn't think, not with him so close. The buzz under your skin was so strong, and you sat a breath away, it was easy to fall into it.
"Let's uh-" you stammered slightly, "Let's get you patched up, okay?"
Rick swallowed (you watched his Adam's apple bob for a second before dragging your eyes away), eyes darted to yours for a split second, and he nodded.
Without much more thought, you tightened the bandage around his chest -enough to allow it to heal without exposure. As the bandage ran thin, you carefully lifted his hand, which was heavily calloused from the days work against your own, and sorted out the ends.
Just like you'd done it often, rhythmically.
"Keep an eye on that," you spoke, pulling back and sorting through your supplies, "-if anything, and I mean anything feels wrong, come to me."
Rick hummed, eyes hazily focused on you -it kind of made you giddy, "'Course."
"You sure you listening?" You asked, smirking to yourself, "Everything alright?"
"Just... you too," he spoke, tone cautious and honest.
"What?" You tilted your head, turning around to view him in your curious.
"The headache," he hummed, not standing up yet -as he slipped on his flannel, hands working on the buttons.
"How-" you began, pursing your lips, "How did you-"
"Saw ya on the way in, with the temples," he added, fingers working their way up the shirt, nimble and practiced, "-high time you took a break, you know."
"I have," you spoke, stuttering a bit, "-I am."
Rick smirked, bright and boisterous, "Is that when you're lookin' at me shirtless?"
"Yeah, yeah," you hushed him, waving him off with a passive smile and a blush buzzing up your cheeks, "-get your laughs out now, cowboy."
He laughed, trailing towards the door but not stepping out of it -feet stayed solidly in your space, like he didn't really want to leave. It made you bite back a smile.
"But, seriously-" Rick continued, smile fading slightly and eyes leveling to yours as he put his hand on your shoulder, and leaned forward to brush his lips across your forehead -his words exhaling along your skin.
"There's people who care about you, ya know?"
"Okay," you whispered, placing your hand over his on your shoulder, "-okay."
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