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stargirlrchive · 9 months ago

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INVISIBLE STRING — CASSIAN!

pairing: cassian x morrigan (half) sister reader

notes: :3 hi hi this is so scary. i haven’t posted a full thought out fic in probably a year (crazy) and i would like to say i have not finished the series so if timeline is inaccurate and just plots don’t make sense w canon it’s bc im still on acowar :p but cassian has taken over my brain and i can’t get him out of it !!!! c: part two is already being worked on bc im so proud of her. i hope u all enjoy it <3 ++ i know mor is described as being blonde and fairly pale in complexion which is why i made reader her half sibling, and there are no descriptions of reader’s physical attributes bc i wanted to kept it as neutral as possible :3

cw: angst, hurt no comfort (yet?), azriel’s shadows being the biggest cassreader shippers ever, unrequited love but really it’s just idiots in love. also mentions (brief) of abuse from keir (gross!)

Your fingers nervously fumbled with the straps of your leathers. Heart pounding in your ears as you forced yourself to drop the nervous jitters, fingers balling into tight fist to stop their trembling.

It had been a long time since you had last seen your family. A long time since your gaze met violet eyes, or your nose scented cedar wood and night chilled mist. The lingering scent of sea salted water and citrus, and fresh paint and vanilla, and sweet wine and roses had nearly erased from your memory. But what you missed the most was the red gleam of siphons that glowed ruby red under certain light.

Truly, in an immortals life time half a decade was just a blip in time, minuscule, but you had never been gone this long from them. Especially not from Rhys, Az, Mor, and Cassian, with the exception of Rhysand’s imprisonment under the mountain.

You blinked away the burning in your eyes as you pushed open the doors of the town house. Soft chatter growing cold at the unexpected intrusion. You had barely enough time to register everyone seated at the table when shadows were zooming past their master to greet you excitedly.

Nuzzling into your hair and neck and arms. Azriel’s shadows had always been so fond of you. Whispering and singing in your ear in a language you could not understand.

They tugged you forward, until you were stumbling clumsily as they dragged you towards Cassian. An ache settled deep in your chest as you fought against them gently, moving between Azriel and Rhys. You missed the flash of hurt in hazel eyes as you avoided him.

Five years later and he still didn’t know the truth of your departure. Before your thoughts could send you spiraling, Rhys’ voice called your name. An undeniable smile in his voice before his arms were enveloping you, “Cousin, you’re back.”

“I am.” Your throat felt thick, tongue heavy as you fought back tears. His scent had always comforted you, Rhys had given you and Mor a chance. A lifeline in the sea that you were drowning in, in Hewn City.

Two sisters, both forced into a world that was cruel and unkind. Morrigan as rightful Heir of Keir had experienced the brunt of it all. From being stuffed into tight dress, to being pranced around in front of grimy men, and nearly forced into a life with a male whose family’s cruelty knew no bounds.

Your torment had been in forms of neglect and isolation. Your father had never much cared for you, being a product of affairs, his bastard, he left you alone. Barely acknowledged your presence when at the mere age of nine you were thrown into his arms from your mother’s father, stating you were no longer his responsibility since your mother’s death. Your father’s neglect, you now realized, had been a blessing.

You were Mor’s shadow. Clinging to her as any younger sister would. Always causing trouble until you learned to obey. Mor never let you experience the abuse from your father fully. Always taking the blame, always hiding you. You owed her and Rhys, your family, everything.

There was a soft clearing of a throat that pulled you and your High Lord apart. Shadows greedily pulling you to face everyone else. Azriel’s hazel eyes assessing you, looking for any injuries before his fingers were squeezing your elbow gently. A soft hello.

Your eyes flickered around the room, and you realized just how much had changed. Your High Lady, and dear friend seated at the head of the table, Rhys by her side. Besides him sat Azriel and then Elain.

Your throat tightened as you allowed your eyes to flicker to the other side, Nesta beside Feyre, and Cassian beside her. Amren had most likely skipped out dinner to enjoy the privacy of her apartment, and Mor was no longer around. Preferring to spend her time on the continent.

The golden thread that tied you to the Lord of Bloodshed sung loudly and happily in your chest. Five years since you had last laid eyes on him and the feeling alone nearly brought you to your knees.

Your eyes flickered away from Cassian, ignoring the way your heart and soul begged you not to. “Is my room still available?”

Feyre sent you a soft smile, sad really, as she realized how desperately you wished to find some peace and quiet. She knew of your affections for the General, and how you had never told him only to watch him fall in love with her sister.

“Of course it is, but you should join us.”

You swallowed roughly at Rhys’ words, unable to stop the gnawing pain in your heart and the cruel words circling in your mind. Cassian was not yours, he had never been and it was unfair of you to expect him to love you the way you had always yearned for him too. But it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt, it always fucking hurt.

“I’m quite tired, maybe tomorrow.” Rhys didn’t push, just affectionately tucked your hair behind your pointed ear and let you go.

Your steps were quick, hurried and Cassian’s voice sounded like smooth velvet as he called your name. You didn’t stop, your knees nearly buckling under your weight as you forced yourself to keep walking.

Mumbling a quiet, “Goodnight,” before disappearing into the hallways in search of your bedroom.

During your five years away at Day the turmoil in your heart had eased, if only slightly. Cassian would unintentionally send his emotions down the bond, and it seemed it always happened when your heart had finally let you rest.

When you finally saw light at the end of a never ending tunnel of despair, the mating bond would reel you in, viciously and unforgiving. You were sure you were being punished.

How dare you ever try to question what the Mother wanted for you?

Being back in Velaris, being back home, felt so much worse. With the distance, even when his emotions poured into your very bones, it felt weakened. Less tethered to you.

But now? Now you felt his sorrow so deeply tears fell freely down your cheeks.

You had only been trying to sleep for a few hours, your rest had been fitful at best, anxiety prickling at your fingertips as you threw the warm blanket off of you. You needed air. You needed clarity.

Your feet moved on their own. From what you last knew there were no longer many residents here. You were careless in thinking so as your feet moved hurriedly through the house and out into the garden.

Filling your lungs with air as tears prickled at your eyes, the cold nipping at your skin as you sunk into one of the benches placed around the area.

You had only been in his presence for a mere five minutes and your heart was already waging a war against you.

Maybe you could convince Rhys to send you off once again. Your years away at Day had been filled with research and insight, maybe you could do the same at Dawn. Or any other Court that wasn’t here. Gods, you’d even take the forsaken libraries in the Hewn City if it meant not being here. You’d beg if you had too because this, this was too much.

You let out a shaky breath as your mind ruthfully plagued you with memories of the past. Of your utter devastation of hearing that Mor had slept with Cassian.

Of the guilt you felt after, when you avoided her in anger and utter jealousy and then told of the way she was savagely left to die.

You would never forgive yourself.

Remembering when you realized you were utterly and hopelessly devoted to your life long friend, and learning to live with just having a small part of him for you.

Hoping and praying to the Mother that he’d love you back. Hoping to see a spark of honeyed warmth, or a lick of jealousy when you found solace in the warmth of another. Anything, you prayed and prayed, but she never answered.

Not until you had pinned him down on the training matt, wings sprawled out beneath him as you stared at him smugly. A soft, primal, smirk on his face as he gripped your thighs. “You’re getting better.”

Your laughter filtered through the open area, “Only ‘better’? I just kicked your ass.”

He grunted, tugging you gently and in a quick succession of movements had flipped you over, pinning you to the ground. His thighs caged over yours, pinning your hands above your head as he sent you a toothy smile.

The wind that had been knocked out of you was not due to the fact your back had hit against the matt, but because something snapped inside of you. An invisible golden thread, darting from your chest to his, so visceral you could almost taste it, singing happily at finally being acknowledged.

But he gave no indication that he had felt the mating bond snap into place, “Yes, ‘better’. Because you should know not to let your guard down.”

Your speechlessness could’ve been a product of being bested in sparring, your mind racing with things to say but nothing came out.

The fog that had formed in your brain cleared at the bark of laughter that left Azriel, “If you two are done flirting, get back to sparring or leave the ring.”

You don’t remember what excuse you used to suddenly needing to leave but you did. Hope sparkling in your chest at what you thought was an answered prayer by the Mother. He was yours, just as much as you were his.

Only for the ember to burn to ash quickly, as two nights after Cassian had come to you looking for guidance on how to court Nesta.

You tried so hard, pushing down the mating bond that roared and screamed in utter agony as he spilled to you his affections for the eldest Archeron.

Your heart stuttering and begging for release of this pain as your mind caught up to you. He’d never see you. He hadn’t before, so what would be so different now? What would suddenly make you worthy in his eyes? The mating bond?

You realized quickly that you didn’t want that. Didn’t want him to love you just because fate decided to pair you together. You wanted him to love you, to yearn for you the way you had for him without something telling him to.

So with a forced smile you consoled him. Running your fingers through his hair and giving him advice on how to win her heart.

Some days you cursed yourself for that night. You wished you had been selfish and told him he was yours. But then the guilt would settle and you knew you’d never have the heart to force that onto your dearest friend.

In the end all you wanted was his happiness, if that was with someone else then you’d have to learn to live with it.

It had all led up to the night where you accidentally walked in on Nesta and Cassian in the kitchen at the House of Wind, lips and tongues tangled.

The mating bond felt like it was burning you alive from the inside out, angry and volatile as it blamed you for pushing him into her arms.

You’re not sure how you ended up in Rhys office, your face pressed into him as your fingers tried to claw at the hurt in your chest, “Make it stop, Rhys. Gods please, just make it stop.”

He had never seen you like this, never seen you in such despair as he tried to calm you down. He didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to help you.

Only held you in his arms and sang a lullaby his mother had always sang to the three of you as children. Your desperation and pain eased and numbness eventually coated your insides.

“Send me away.”

He hesitated, wiping your tears as Feyre’s soothing touch caressed your back. His violet eyes shining with hurt and concern for you, “What are you running from?”

Your thoughts were interrupted by the deep timber of a voice you were so familiar with,“Is it just me, or are you avoiding me?”

Heat quickly ran from your skull down to your spine at the velvety voice that belonged to Cassian. Your back tensing uncomfortably as you turned to look at him.

You refrained from letting your eyes glaze down his form. Bare chested and wings lazily held up as his brows furrowed when he took you in.

“Cassian-what are you doing here?”

You stood up from your seated position as he moved closer. His eyes never leaving yours, “Here as in the gardens or here as in my home?”

Your brows furrowed, were he and Nesta now permanently in the town house? It would’ve made sense, seeing as they were all here, having dinner earlier.

“In-in the gardens.”

His lips twisted up into a small quirk of a smile, his eyes lingering on your face as if trying to reacquaint himself with your features.

Your heart lurched to your throat as his gaze lingered on your lips before he looked back into your eyes. “I heard you walking around. Wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“How did you know it was me?”

His lips tugged into a proper smile this time, “Who else could it be?”

He couldn’t bring himself to tell you that he’d long ago familiarized himself with the sound of your steps.

Your brows pinched together, full lips tugging into a small frown, “Where is everyone else?”

“Elain is most likely off in Lucien’s apartment, Azriel is at the House of Wind.”

And despite yourself, you asked, “And Nesta?”

Your throat bobbed softly, heart already preparing itself to hear that she was tangled in his sheets in his room. A soft shrug came from him, muscles flexing deliciously at the movement, “Probably with her mate.”

Your heart stuttered in your chest at his words. Her mate? You were sure the confusion was evident on your face as Cassian laughed. “It’s a bit unfair isn’t it? She was made a measly six years ago, and she’s found who her soul is tethered to, while we’ve been around for centuries and have no luck.”

“Lucky her.”

He hummed, eyes glazing over your face and the look in his eyes was unrecognizable. Warm and honeyed. It made your stomach twist and turn into uncomfortable knots.

“I should go to bed, Cassian. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You made to walk away from him, but his rough fingers wrapped around your forearm in a touch that could only be described as gentle. When you finally looked up at him his brows were pinched together in confusion, and hurt.

“What’s with the full name?”

“It’s yours, isn’t it?”

His eyes narrowed slightly at your words, “You’ve used it on me twice in the span of a few minutes. I’m never ‘Cassian’ to you.”

A stretch of silence passed between the two of you, you didn’t know what to say. You didn’t know how to act around him anymore.

Gods, you had come around to the idea of seeing him tangled with Nesta. But you were back and he was single. Or at least not with her and you don’t know what you feared most.

That your heart would take this as hope and yearn for him, and watch him fall for another, or to finally tell him how you felt. If it would even mean anything to him, if he’d even want you.

You couldn’t do it, you wouldn’t. You refused to let hope spark in your heart when he had already tangled himself into your very being like overgrown ivy. You don’t know if you’d survive any more rejection.

His voice was softer this time, thick fingers cupping your cheeks and jaw, forcing you to look at him, “You were gone five years and I can barely get five sentences out of you before you’re running away from me.”

Tears stung behind your eyes as your throat tightened at the hurt twinging his voice. It took everything in you to not soothe the crease between his brows, your body tensing softly as his thumb caressed your bottom lip gently, “If I have offended you, or hurt you some how tell me how to fix it. I have been waiting for five years for your return and I cannot stand to think that this whole time you were away you were angry with me.”

You wished you could speak, but your tongue felt heavy. The hurt in his eyes turned to something akin to despair at your silence, his hands dropped from caressing your face to hang loosely by his side, his wings slumped against the floor.

You let out a shuddering breath, forcing yourself to look away from him, “I should go to bed.”

And this time he didn’t stop you.

Weeks had trickled by so slowly since your return to Velaris as you tried to find your place back in your home court.

You had never been particularly good at fighting, your strength came from your knowledge. Books and literature had been something you had clung to as a child and it never left you.

You digested text in a way the inner circle did not, memorized details and names and faces others struggled with. But that did not mean Azriel was any easier on you when it came to training.

The muscles in your abdomen ached painfully, your arms felt heavy and filled with sand as he squared up once more. “I need a break.”

“You need to focus.”

A whine ripped from your throat in protest, Az’s shadows peppering cooling kisses and caresses on your skin to try and comfort you. “Just a few minutes. Please?”

“You think if someone were to try and attack you, they’d spare you if you whined like a petulant child?”

At your silence and glare he continued, “Didn’t think so.”

Your fingers balled into fist as you readied yourself, your muscles heavy with exhaustion as you threw punch after punch his way. “Remain focused, let yourself do what feels instinctual.”

You were sure you would’ve passed whatever Azriel’s standards were had his shadows not wrapped around your legs. Tugging insistently and trying to drag you away.

You heard Azriel’s noise of protest as he tried to rein his shadows back but they refused. Your head turned towards the direction in which they were tugging you in only to be met with Cassian’s warm hazel eyes already on you.

With an accidental misstep you were tumbling forward, falling far too quickly to catch yourself. Your head ringing harshly as the side of your face smacked against the mat.

Someone called out your name in a panic, and you missed the way Cassian had roughly pushed Azriel away from you as he turned you around.

His eyes frayed with worry as your eyes remained unfocused, “Can you look at me, dove?”

You blinked a few times before a groan of discomfort left your mouth, “What the fuck happened?”

Azriel’s shadows sheepishly began to caress your skull, pressing kisses of apologies on your skin. You didn’t hear anything besides tiny wisps of whispers coming from them but you’re were sure they hissed at Cassian as he shooed them away.

It took you a few minutes but you were eventually able to sit. Your ears ringing and still a little dizzy but you were feeling better despite the throb on your temple.

Azriel’s shadows peered at you from behind him sheepishly, and it was only when you extended your hand to them that they swarmed you in a flurry. Rubbing against your neck and hair affectionately, being careful with the side of your face but caressing you softly.

“They say they’re sorry.”

Your lips quirked up at Azriel’s words, “They’re forgiven.”

They buzzed in excitement, before stilling softly as Cassian extended a hand out for the shadows. They treaded carefully, lightly caressing his arm as in apology as if they had also offended him.

A few swirled around your hand and fingers, tugging it much more gently into Cassian’s extended hand. Your cheeks warmed up in embarrassment but before you could pull away, he tangled his fingers with yours.

The shadows swirled around your intertwined hands as if proud of themselves before finally returning to their master. Azriel sent you a soft smirk, and with a shake of his head diseapeared into a mass of dark misty shadows.

“Are you alright?”

You nodded slowly, retorting in exasperation, “Just feels like I hit my head.”

Cassian’s lips tugged into a soft smile, helping you up and not dropping your tangled fingers, “Let’s get you to Madja.”

He pulled you along closely, walking you both towards the edge of the training area. Before you could overthink about being so tangled in his arms he wrapped himself around you. One hand cradling the back of your head to his chest, while the other gripped the back of your thighs.

Your heart pummeled to your stomach as he took off flying, it had been so long since you felt the breeze against your face like this. Your legs wrapping around him as a startled laugh left your mouth.

You felt his laugh more than you heard it, his chest rumbling against yours and for the first time in years, your heart felt at ease around Cassian.

No turmoil or anguish, just overflowing affection and happiness as he flew you carefully around Velaris. Your face tucked away from being so pressed to his chest to look up at him and your breath hitched.

He was truly so beautiful, rough and sharp features that looked like he was made out of stone carving. His lips the perfect shade of dusty rose and plump, his nose fit him beautifully too, slightly crooked at the slope from being broken over the years. White-raised scars on his beautiful tan skin. You were so close you could see the faintest of freckles that doted his skin.

“You didn’t pass out on me, did you?”

Heat bloomed on your cheeks at getting so lost admiring him before you tucked your face back into his chest, “No, I’m fine.”

His fingers squeezed around your thighs as he pulled you closer before he descended down to the Town House.

You were grateful for the hand he kept placed on your back as he walked you into the house. Your dizziness hitting you once again as you landed on solid ground. The warmth running down your spine at his heated touch had you suppressing a shiver.

Your bones ached in protest when he pulled away and sat you down in front of an amused Rhys and exasperated Madja. The elder lady frowning at the bruise on your temple.

“Cassian, I’ve told you not to be so rough when training,” Madja’s soothing voice chastised the General. Your lips tugging into an amused smiled at the noise of protest that left his mouth.

“It was Azriel’s shadows that caused this.”

Madja’s eyes narrowed softly at his words but said nothing more. A hiss leaving your lips as she pushed against the bump forming near your eye.

Cassian’s fingers twitched nervously at the sound of your discomfort. His eyes glued to you as you were looked over by the healer.

Something warm and comfortable hummed in his chest seeing you. The weeks you had been back were nothing short of torture for him.

In the five years you had been gone Cassian came to the devastating realization that he was utterly and unabashedly enamored with you. Cursing himself for the time wasted on pointless lovers, on Nesta, when you had been by his side for the better half of four centuries.

His heart cracking open and knocking him over one restless night as his mind tormented him with everything he had been lacking since you had departed to Day.

He figured that he had always loved you, had always cared for you. But the twisting of his gut in your absences alerted him that it was in a way that was different from Mor and Amren, and then Feyre. His obsession with needing you near, needing you safe stemmed from some thing else entirely.

It took four months of being away from you to realize that. Cursing himself at all the time wasted.

And it wasn’t as if he didn’t try to get ahold of you while you were studying and researching to your hearts content at Day. He had sent letter after letter, received few responses but he had figured you were busy.

His skin had only started to crawl with dread and anxiety when there had been reasons for the Inner Circle to attend a meeting, or some grand ball thrown by Helion, and you were never there.

Either whisked away to some other Court for extended research or taking time away to visit your sister.

The very last time he had stepped foot in Day while you had been there was about three months before your return. Rhys had granted him permission to seek you out.

And when he stepped foot into Day Court’s palace in search of you his hope dwindled as Helion informed him that you had just left a few days prior for a fourteen day tour at Autumn Court. But he swore he scented the soft jasmine and lavender cream that he recognized as your scent roaming the halls.

Resigned, he returned home.

Then you returned, so careful and tense in his presence he wished to turn back back to when things were easier between the two of you. When his face would nuzzle into your soft belly as you ran your fingers through his hair and consoled him after a nightmare.

Or how he’d find his favorite pastries wrapped up on the counter that he knew you’d gone out of your way to get him.

He missed when his feelings hadn’t tangled themselves so deeply into you and he could just be. Gods, did he miss you. He yearned and ached and burned for you while you seemed content at keeping him an arms length away.

The mother could be so cruel.

He barely registered Rhys pressing an affectionate kiss to your bruised temple and mumbling that he was taking Madja back before something so earth shattering was unraveling in his chest.

His eyes wide and chest heaving the second the two of you were alone and your eyes met. A deeply rich golden invisible thread darting from his chest to yours.

He had unconsciously poured all his emotions of recognizing the bond down your connection. A primal need to be closer to you bursting from his chest as he tugged on the bond.

Your breath hitched, but you didn’t seem surprised he noted. Your side of the bond closed off tightly he could feel nothing from your end. He hated that.

Your eyes were wide in apprehension as you stared at him, tears lining your eyes as his emotions of love and devotion were so strong they brought him to his knees before you. Pleading and desperate as he called out your name.

“Don’t do this, Cassian.”

His brows pinched together as he reached for you, the bond screaming in agony as you avoided his touch and stood up to create some space between the two of you.

“Dove, listen to me. Please.” He was not above begging, still kneeled in the center of the room as his wings slumped to the ground. His eyes following your every move as you nervously ran your fingers through your hair.

“I feel it, I feel you.” His fingers and hands were steady as he pointed to his chest despite the feeling of anxiety creeping into him.

“You’re mine, my mate, dove.”

There was a beat of silence, Cassian staring at you as if you had delicately placed every beautiful star in the sky. But you had never seen him look at you like that before.

Never had he inclined he wanted you besides the bond. Gods, did it hurt. Your stomach churned sadly as your fingers balled into fist as you shook your head in denial.

“No. No, you don’t get to just suddenly want me because of the bond. I don’t want it this way.”

His frown deepened at your words, your emotions so heavily felt they started to crack the walls you kept up and pouring into the bond.

You had known for years. Five years, you had known and said nothing. “Gods, Cassian! I have loved you for so long. Prayed and begged to the Mother, to the Cauldron, to the Moon and Stars to have you return my affection and you didn’t.”

Cassian wanted to speak, to protest your words but the frustrated tears pouring down your beautiful face and the agony building in his chest, that was no longer just his, kept him quiet. “I’ve watched you pine and love others, and you have never looked at me that way. You had never thought me worthy of you in that way, and now that you know. It shouldn’t change a thing.”

“But it does,” His fingers itched to devote themselves to you. To memorize every curve and dip on your body. “It changes everything-”

You cut him off before he could continue, before he could tell you that he now felt worthy of loving you. That he now knew he could love you in a way you deserved if the Mother had blessed him with you as his wonderful mate. “Well it shouldn’t.”

You sniffled softly as you stared at him directly in his eyes, “I don’t want it to.”

#cassian #cassian x reader #cassian acotar #acotar #acotar x reader #azriel x reader #rhysand x reader #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf

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cabinporn · 1 year ago

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An off grid cabin in the Quebec wilderness @canadiancastaway   @sashasachet writes: “My cabin is 100% solar, for the water I harvest the rain and store it in a 5800L tank, I heat the place with a wood stove and I cut the wood in my forest. I’ve just finished building it after 7 years. The exterior is cedar shakes and the interior is Red pine locally milled in the region of Outaouais. Total cost of the hole built after 7 years is around $175000 CAD. Lot of friends helped me and it was quite a project as it’s on a cliff side and hard access. I brought the materials with a four wheeler through the forest and we built a "material elevator" on the cliff side to bring the construction material on top of the cliff. “  Photos by @sachasachet More photos on @cabinporn.

#cabin

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meiieiri · 1 year ago

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STOLEN MOMENTS WITH THEM [FT. JUJUTSU KAISEN]

❁—CHARACTERS: suguru geto, gojo satoru, nanami kento

warnings: suggestive themes in gojo’s part (bc why not haha), mentions of canon-typical violence

a/n: i’m so sorry for all this tooth-rotting fluff, i’m sad rn so hehe :’>> song inspo: you are in love (taylor swift). am accepting requests/prompts btw, just shoot me a message-

༊*·˚ SUGURU GETO

winter afternoons cooped inside your one bedroom apartment are always special days, commonly consisting of freshly-brewed piping hot tea sitting peacefully on your small living room side table, a good book, and the warmth of a knitted throw blanket. snowflakes fall entrancingly from the sky and make a feather-like landing on the glass windows that peek into your home.

suguru geto was lounging silently on the couch with you, your head on his strong lap as he gently combs his fingers through your hair, a leather bound book in his free hand, his eyes leisurely skimming the yellowed pages trying to make sense of the decadent shakespearean sonnets that liken love to that of honey and flowers. you were just about to fall asleep when suguru’s melodic baritone caresses your ear.

“don’t you think he’s so full of shit?” he asks suddenly. how could one speak with such vulgar words and still make it sound like poetry?

“shakespeare?” you sit up and you readjust yourselves so that you can rest your head on his shoulder, peeking over it to inspect sonnet 55. his arms comes up to pull you closer to him, tucking you into the warmth of his chest in a bid to keep you warm. “i thought you liked his work,” you take the offending book into your hands, scanning through the words.

“i do,” he clarifies, tracing shapes on your shoulder, his cheek resting against the top of your head as he waits for you to finish reading through the passage.

when you look up from the book, you are surprised when his lips abruptly yet softly meet yours in a loving peck. his hand moves to cup your cheek as he deepens the kiss, your lips moving together in a perpetual waltz, your heartbeats in total sync. you thought the kiss would last forever, and you and suguru wouldn’t give a flying fuck, but he pulls away teasingly, his forehead resting against your own, his nose lovingly bumping yours as you both come down from your respective highs.

“not as much as i like you, though.”

you shake your head, rose blush tinting your cheeks, hopelessly in love. he truly was the light of your life, the lighthouse that brings you to safe waters.

༊*·˚ GOJO SATORU

despite the horrors that have long plagued the grounds of jujutsu tech, the school, being tucked away in a remote location deep in tokyo’s forgotten countryside, was actually quite beautiful. the backdrop of the tall cedar-wood and red maple trees in the forest adjacent to the teachers’ dormitories that served as a protective cover from unwanted prying eyes is a particularly wonderful sight and in an autumn evening such as this one, emitted a fresh aroma of sweet cherries and almonds.

“i was wondering where you were,” gojo satoru walks in the teachers lounge just as the electric kettle automatically switches off. he woke up in a panic when he noticed you’d gone missing, your side of the bed having lost all its warmth, indicating you must have been out of bed for a good while now. it didn’t help his nerves to see your bedstand digital clock display the time: 1:58 AM in bright neon green on its screen.

he moves behind you, his strong arms wrapping around your dainty figure as you busy yourself pouring the boiling hot water into the two instant ramen cups you had prepared. “that for me?”

“nope,” you shrug. “it’s for nanami.”

that was obviously a lie — he looks at the label of the ramen cup and scoffs when he sees the indicated flavor: seafood curry, his favorite, now, if that wasn’t enough to convince him, he has to remind himself that his adorable blonde junior hates instant crap like this. but still, you found it endearingly funny to see your husband pouting like some kicked dog when you push past him to bring the two cups over to the nearby dining table. “i’m kidding,” you chortle, beckoning him to join you.

“you meanie,” he sticks out his bottom lip as he follows you to the table. he sits down, his elbows resting on the table as his hands come up to cradle his chin, mirroring the image of a child who’d been told “no” by his parent. “i think i want a divorce now,” he sulks.

you feign guilt, playing along with him. you stand up to take a seat next to him. “i’m sorry, baby,” you tell him. he only responds by pointing to his cheek, silently telling you to “kiss it better” if you really were sincere in your apology. you reach up to place a loving kiss on his cheek and a smile spreads across his lips. “better?” you chuckle when he lets out an amused breath.

having made peace, you move to retrieve your cup of ramen when without warning, he pulls you by the hand, crashing his lips against yours in a passionate kiss, his teeth needily sucking at your bottom lip, the heat of the kiss seemingly warming up the entire room that had been filled with the chill of the autumn night breeze. your arms move to rest on his shoulders, as he effortlessly pulls you into his lap, his hands resting on the small of your back. it’s only when you need to take a steadying breath of air that he breaks the kiss.

“all better,” he winks, the ramen having gone cold, utterly forgotten, as the night peacefully went on.

༊*·˚ NANAMI KENTO

“i knew i should have brought an umbrella,” nanami kento sheepishly rubs the back of his head.

“i’m sorry,” his shoulders slump when a low rumble of a thunderclap suddenly goes off, lightning illuminating the sky in a brilliant glow. the date had gone so well — you visited the best art galleries in tokyo, even saw a performance at one of those cozy hidden gem jazz clubs — kento had thought that his luck would hold out ‘till you got home.

but the universe seems to have decided otherwise. now, here you were taking shelter, stranded under the fiberglass roof of a deserted bus stop’s waiting shed. “kento,” your gentle voice quells the dread in his chest, chipping away at the block of anxiety forming in his throat. “it’s okay,” you scoot over, patting the spot next to you, silently telling him to sit down.

reluctantly, he takes a seat, keeping himself at a reasonable distance from you, thinking that you would, at the very least, be upset at him for this slight mishap. “sorry,” he repeats the apology like a broken record, and a compassionate smile forms on your lips.

you slowly scoot on over next to him, closing the gap between the two of you, your pinky finger reaching for his own, as if you were asking for permission. kento notices the gesture instantly, and takes your hand in his, his thumb rubbing your knuckles comfortingly. “…today was fun, kento,” you tell him, a genuine grin on your face, “seriously. what’s a little rain?”

a burden seems to have been lifted from his shoulders. kento nanami was not a man who put much value into love, with how dangerous his profession is, fighting the lurking malevolence hiding in the world’s darkest shadows, he didn’t have time for the childishness of falling in and out of love. it was inconvenient, and troublesome.

at least, that’s what he used to believe before you came crashing into his life and touched the heartstrings he has long resigned to keep under lock and key with your delicate hands.

he silently takes off his overcoat then to wrap it around your shoulders like the gentleman he was (he wasn’t about to let the love of his life get drenched in the rain), resisting the urge to grin when he sees just how small you look in it. the next few minutes pass by in absolute silence, the sound of your breaths being the only conceivable sound for a long while.

“…i’m glad you had fun,” he looks up at the stormy sky again. “i did, too.”

“next time, let’s be sure to check the weather forecast ahead of time,” you giggle. he joins your laughter, bringing your hand to his lips, his warm breath tickling your skin, as he lets his lips touch your flesh in a quintessentially classic affectionate kiss on the back of your hand like they do in those vintage hollywood movies. he tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “i know how much you hate the rain.”

“…i think i can make an exception,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

the decibels of his tenor fight against the loud pitter patter of raindrops crash landing on the fiberglass roof of the waiting shed. but you hear his lyrical confession of love anyway, with your heart’s ear perhaps.

“i have the sun with me all the time, anyway,” kento says, planting a soft kiss on your forehead as the rain washes the remnants of his old world away.

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nana-luvy · 1 month ago

Text

. 𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐭 (𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐨𝐨𝐫) .

warnings: angst, before TLT, violent!Luke, mention of reader being harmed (lightly), harsh language, basically a verbal fight

In which you can't recognize the one you love, locked on the other side of the door, anymore.

(i'm sorry it's very angsty but ummm... i had an idea. <3)

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

The air was fragrant and cool at camp, the nights starting to get warmer as the summer was coming closer, carrying the smell of blossoming strawberries and cedar wood. It was this kind of quiet night when you’d tuck yourself to sleep and fall into a deep slumber in no time, lulled by the sounds of the insects hiding in the wild grass. But tonight, Luke wasn’t in his cabin, he was in yours.

Your eyes fluttered open as you caught the noise of the door creaking open, a faint noise clear in the stillness of the empty cabin, all your half-siblings leaving for the year while you stayed at camp, knowing it was the only trusted place for you, the only warm place. Luke slipped inside, closing behind him softly, and you could see him stand there for a moment, the moonlight filtering through the window casting it's eerie glow on his features.

“Luke?” You asked, voice hoarse as you tried to wake up. “What-” But you didn’t get to finish your sentence as you heard his quiet sob, the faint light reflecting on the single tear rolling down his cheek.

“I couldn’t sleep…” Luke simply said, his voice, strained and brittle, cutting through the silence as he walked towards the bed. You immediately shifted on the mattress, making space on one side and opening the comforter. He quickly laid next to you, face buried in your neck and arms wrapped around your waist while you tucked him under the covers.

“The nightmares again ? Do you wanna talk about it…?” Your voice was soft but hesitant, knowing how sensitive he must've been in this moment.

It wasn’t the first time that he’d come in the middle of the night, tears staining his cheeks as he cuddled against you for comfort, but these past few weeks it had only seemed to intensify. And you couldn't help the worry that was bubbling in your chest when you’d hear him sniffling, vulnerable at your side, while you couldn't do more than just try to comfort him.

You brushed a few wild curls out of the side of his face, caressing his cheek softly as he hesitantly spoke, his strained voice muffled against your skin. “I… It’s getting worse…”

It was kind of a ritual now, for the both of you: when his dreams were becoming too dark, too unbearable, he’d come to you, day or night, and you’d help him get through it. At first, he’d hide the nightmares behind cocky smiles and flirty words, but as time passed by, the cracks in his walls deepened and he finally let you in.

But this night felt different, though.

Luke let out a shaky breath against your skin. “I can’t- I don’t know how much longer I’m gonna be able to take it…” he admitted, the whisper of his voice tainted in helplessness, and it broke your heart.

“Do you wanna..tell me about it ? Let it out ?” you asked, trying to keep your voice soft and soothing through the worry that troubled your mind, combing your fingers through the boy’s curls fondly.

But his breathing was still shallow in the crook of your neck, feeling him tighten his hold on your waist as he spoke. “It’s him. It’s Kronos…”

“What.. what do you mean, Luke?”

“It’s… he’s- he’s speaking to me, talking to me in my dreams, bringing monsters with him and images of chaos, telling me things…”

You rested your head on his, trying to keep grounded, but your breath felt stuck in your throat. You’d heard stories, Kronos turning former campers mad, even cast down in Tartarus, getting in their mind and turning them against themselves… But they were stories, that’s all they were.

“It’s not real, Luke.” you said softly, turning his face to make him look back at you, pushing his curls away and resting a chaste kiss on his forehead. “He’s not here, it’s just a bad dream. I’m here.” you continued, cupping his cheek.

“It feels real, too real.” His voice cracked, his eyes watering. “It’s like… like he knows everything, everything I’ve ever thought, every doubt I’ve ever had. He’s showing me things, visions, showing me what it could be like if-”

“Luke.” Your tone was firmer, trying to stop his spiraling, his eyes covered in a veil of confusion. “Whatever he’s showing you, it’s not real, it’s a lie, you know it right ?”

Luke shook his head, like trying to banish the thought, furrowing his eyebrows as he answered. “But what if it’s not ? What if it was possible ? A world without them, without the Gods ? Kronos might be right, about how the Gods don’t care about us, how we’re just pawns..” His teeth were gritted harshly, pain and anger clouding his vision. “It’s always them first, their rules, their wars… They’ve proven it, over and over agai-” His voice broke in a low sob, a single tear rolling on the side of his face to land in his hair at the memories flooding his mind. “What about us…?”

You exhaled shakily, feeling his breathy words tugging at your heart like a mirror to the injustices you were reminded of everyday, yet trying to keep your voice steady and your mind out of the black waters that threatened to engulf you. “It’s not you talking, Luke… It’s him.”

He didn’t answer, instead closing his eyes and pulling you closer to rest his head on your chest, his hands gripping your shirt. “I’m scared..” he admitted in a breath, so soft the wind could’ve carried it away.

You could only hug him back, laying your head in his soft curls and breathing in his comforting smell. “I’m not going anywhere, Castellan, you don’t have to go through this alone. I’m here, always.”

None of you said anything after that, only hearing the noises outside the cabin to lull you back to sleep. But as Luke’s breath steadied, your eyes stayed open, your expression grim and pained. Because you didn’t know if you could save him this time.

The following night didn’t hold the same calm as before, grey clouds covering the stars and darkening the atmosphere. Few birds were still singing, the insects had stopped buzzing… You felt uneasy, the feeling creeping up your back as you went to bed. But you realized it wasn’t just the weather that had changed, the stormy clouds finding echo in the eyes of Luke, standing once again at the foot of your bed. He had been distant all day, face pale and eyes rimmed with dark circles, and you couldn’t help the discomfort you felt.

You didn’t say anything when since he’d come in, only shifting on one side of the bed and opening the covers like you were used to, but he only sat at the edge, turning his back on you. And you didn’t have anything to ask, because you could feel it too: the storm brewing inside of him.

He was the one to break the silence.

“I’m done pretending.”

A look of hurt flashed in your gaze, not that he could see it, hearing his voice hoarse and.. cold, it made the blood beat at her temples. “Pretending ? What do you mean ? What is it, Luke ?” You sat straighter.

He swallowed hard, and you could see the tightening of his jaw from the side. “I’m done acting like I can ignore it, pretending like I can fight it. Kronos isn’t going to stop, and I’m tired of convincing myself he’s wrong in what he shows me.”

Your breath caught in your throat, carefully extending a hand to lay it on his shoulder, squeezing gently. “Luke, calm down a second. This isn’t you, you don’t have to-”

“Except I do.” His tone was firm, cutting like a knife through your words. “He’s offering me everything I could ever want : power, control, a way to finally over overthrow the Gods and their dangerous games where they use us as they please. He’s giving me a chance to make them all pay.”

“Luke, stop, you can’t possibly-” As you spoke you tried to come closer, he shook your hand away, standing up in a swift movement, cutting you off in a gasp of surprise.

“I can make everything better, we can make it all better..” he replied, starting to pace the small space between your bed and the one next to it.

You stood up from the bed too, making a few steps in his direction until he stood right in front of you, looking down into your eyes, and you could almost see the storm raging behind his eyes. “What are you talking about…” you breathed out, almost confused as to how he could even be considering the idea. “You can’t just give up and join Kronos.”

“Why not ?” he asked, louder than intended. “Why can’t I ? I mean, you hate the Gods too, how can you not get it ? Kronos could mean the end of an era of pain and suffering, the end of those we despise so much. I hate them just as much as you, you even said it yourself, how it disgusts you the way they use us and discard us like we’re nothing to them. Now is our chance.” he stepped closer, taking your hand in his, “You said it yourself, we deserve more.”

You shook your head, eyebrows furrowing as your throat tightened. “I said that because I was angry, Luke. But it’s not the right way to change things, we can’t bring more chaos to banish another one. You can’t just wish to destroy everything that’s ever been to bring peace.” You squeezed his hand, hoping it’d bring him back to you.

But he only snapped, escaping your grasp. “You don’t get it !” His eyes widened at his own reaction, taking a deep breath before continuing. “It’s the only way. You should be on my side, you should want this… Think about it : if we take down the gods, we can do whatever we want. We can make the world ours. No more suffering. No more wars. Just us.”

“No, Luke.” you said, trying to sound firm and definitive through the tremble of your voice, the emotions taking over you as you felt like you were watching your boyfriend slowly go crazy. “It’s not as simple as Kronos is making you believe. If chaos is brought to the world, if you bring it, people will be hurt, caught in crossfire, people who have no part in this war, people who don’t deserve harm over a fight that’s not theirs to begin with.”

The boy ran a frustrated hand through his curls, messing them up further more, looking to the ground, before taking a step back. “You don’t understand ! Listen to me !” he spat. His eyes were wild now, dark, like all the amber in them that made it him had been swallowed by a black pit clouding his judgement, and his voice was only getting louder, his tone harsher. “They’ve always been the problem, the ones pulling the strings. They’ve been using us for their war games and petty squabbles for as long as anyone could remember, and they never cared about us in the littlest.” He gritted his teeth, trying to swallow the anger he could feel bubbling up his throat.

You took a step back, a wave of worry and fear washing over you at the sight of his knuckles, turning white from how tight he as clenching his fists. Was this in front of you a controlled version of his emotions? “Please, Luke. Think about this. Think about the people we know, the ones who have nothing to do with this fight. Think about your mom-”

But you didn’t get to finish your sentence.

“Don’t you fucking dare speak about my mother!” His voice thundered through the cabin, making you flinch. “Who the fuck are you to bring her up? You think you know so well, huh? Always wanting to have the last word, but what do you even know, in the end?”

You swallowed hard, backing up again, fearing the anger you saw consuming his will behind his eyes. You could see the struggle in them, the conflict raging, torn between the man you knew him to be, and the monster Kronos was starting to shape. “I”m just trying to help..” you whispered, all the voice you could muster as you looked down to your feet, feeling tears starting to blur your vision.

You flinched again when he shouted. “I don’t need your help! I don’t need you to try and save me, I need you to stand by me. To fight by my side and do what needs to be done, for all of us.”

His eyes were full of a craze you couldn’t see through at this point, and before you could react, his hand shot out and grabbed your wrist, tugging you roughly towards him. “Come with me.” His voice was raw and desperate, demanding. “We could wake things better. Together.”

But the more he spoke, the harsher was his grip on you, and you gasped as a sharp pain shot through your arm, folding you forward with you head hanging low. “Luke!” you cried, trying to pull away but to no avail, his grip only tightening as his desperation bled into his every movement. “Stop, you’re hurting me!”

The boy’s face immediately twisted in confusion, in pain when he looked down at your wrist and in remorse when he hastily let go and saw the red mark on your skin. For the first time since the beginning of the night, you saw a flicker of realization in his eyes.

“I’m- I didn’t mean to-”

“No, Luke.” You cut him off, gritting your teeth, taking a step back as he tried to reach out again but stopped just short of touching you. Your voice broke, tears threatening to spill from your eyes with every word. “This isn’t you, you have to put yourself together, please. Come back to me…”

But when he didn’t move, only standing there with this crazed gaze in his eyes, you turned on your heels before a tear finally tumbled from your eyes, heading for the door. “I can’t do this. Not like this.” But behind the tremor in your voice, there was a determination Luke only understood too late, when he heard the clicking of the lock behind the door.

Another tear fell on his face, but it didn’t hold sadness this time, it was full of rage, his teeth gritting and his jaw clenching hard. And other tears followed, like a tangible version of the emotions bubbling inside him, forming a lump in his throat as he took careful steps towards the door. He shook the handle, seeing it was indeed locked, trapping him inside.

His voice was soft as he spoke, tentative, trying to hide the shake in it. “Love, why would you-”

“You’re in no state to have a conversation Luke. Not with me, not with anyone. I can’t-” You choked out a sob, trying to muffle it behind your hand. “I can’t just let you go like this.”

On the other side, you heard him collapse against the door, his sobs muffled but still raw. But what you couldn’t see was the frustration and rage filling his eyes along with the tears, his expression hardening through his pleads. “Please, love,” he begged, his voice barely audible through the wooden door, “we can talk about this.”

“No, we can’t, that’s what you don’t understand.” Your own voice was a breath you couldn’t be sure he’d heard.

“Please, open the door. I can’t- I didn’t mean to hurt you, believe me I- I’m sorry. Please just… open the door, sweetie.”

A shiver ran up your spine at his words, like spoken from another, the nickname sounding so familiar yet so foreign in this instant. You stayed silent, tears streaming down your face as each of his word went tugging at your heartstrings, and you knew you couldn’t do as he wanted, he’d only succeed in pulling you into his madness. And you couldn’t let him do that, not when it could hurt him, you, or anyone for that matter.

“Can we just forget about it?” he whispered. “Can we not fight anymore?”

Your heart shattered as you rested your head back against the door, cold wood against your back, only letting out a pained sigh: you wanted to let him out, you wanted to stop the nonsensical fight, but you just couldn’t. Because this time, you didn’t see a way to save him, not when the storm brewing inside of him had already started to destroy everything.

For a minute there was no talking, no words exchanged, only your ragged breathing and the rustle of Luke’s movements on the other side of the door to fill the heavy silent of the night. Your pulse raced at your temples, the weight of the fight still hanging in the air like a stormy cloud, ready to burst again.

“Babe..” His voice broke the silence, even as just a faint whisper. “Babe, please… Open the door.”

You could hear it, the sound of his forehead hitting the door to rest on it, his uneven breathing his quiet sobs and over everything — the anger, the pain filling the space between you two. You could almost feel it, the insidious, dark, suffocating kind of pain that was slowly consuming him. You closed your eyes tightly and held your breath, like shutting him out would make it easier, but it only made his voice the only thing you could focus on, and you truly didn’t know what could make it easier anymore.

“I’m scared, Luke…” you said, the words slipping out of your mouth quicker than you could hold onto them. “You’re scaring me.”

On the other side of the door, the brunette’s breath hitched.

“I’m sorry I- I didn’t mean to scare you. I just… I don’t know what to do anymore, I can’t…” he trailed off, like the weight of his emotions had shattered him.

The last thing you wanted was to feel this distance between you two, on each side of the door, to hear him this way, to hear the desperation in his voice and know that the one person who made you feel home was being pulled into the darkness.

“Luke, just calm down, breath.” you said, your voice shaking, as you tried to follow your own instructions. “You have to think straight, get the control. He can’t make you do what you don’t want to do.”

“I’m trying,” he responded, his voice thick with emotion. “I can’t… It’s too much. You don’t get it. You don’t understand how much it hurts, how much it—” He cut himself off with a jagged breath. Luke felt like his anger from earlier had been replaced with something quieter, more broken, and it almost felt worse. He was falling apart right there, on the other side of the door, like trying to claw his way out of himself but only falling deeper in what was taking over.

“I get it, Luke,” you said, your voice a little stronger this time, though it still cracked in a quiet sob. “I know you’re hurting. But this isn’t the way, you can’t just give in to him. You’re stronger than this.”

The boy’s answer shot quick and quiet, tinged in finality. “Maybe I’m not,” he started, sounding even more resigned and distant than before. “Maybe I’m not as strong as you think i am, maybe I’ve just been pretending to be someone I’m not for too long.”

Your hands clenched into fists at your sides as you slid down the wood panel, sitting on the cold door-step, tears still cascading down your cheeks and wetting your pajama shorts. “That’s not true. You’re so strong, Luke, believe me. If anyone can resist, it’s you, and you have to resist. Because I’m here for you, but I wont be able to stand by and watch you burn everything to the ground if you let Kronos get in your head.”

Your whole body shook at the sharp ‘pang’ sound when he slammed his fist on the other side of the door, all your senses back in alert as you kept your own fists clenched to keep yourself from trembling. “But i don’t want you to ‘stand by’, I want you to join me!” he shouted, the words cutting. “I don’t want you to stay out of this, I want you to come with me. We can do anything if we’re together, we can lead the rebellion and get our life back, if we work together. Take this step with me.”

His voice was hoarse and you could clearly the frustration, the fury, the brokenness all tangled up together in it.

“No.” You shook your head, dismissing any thought that might go his way. “No Luke, I won’t be part of that. Not like this. I won’t let you tear everything down just to build something out of chaos. Think about it, about everything we’ve worked for, about the people we know. We’ve all already lost so much, and you want to shake this fragile peace. You want to destroy everything, but that’s not the answer. It’s not.”

There was silence, for a moment, only the pounding of your heart in your chest to fill your ears, before you heard a soft scraping sound on the door — his nails dragging over the wood, desperate, like trying to claw at the door from frustration.

“Please,” he whispered. “Please, love, just open the door. I… I can’t breathe. I can’t think straight. I need you.” His voice cracked on the last word, and you felt your chest tighten.

You got up again, resting your forehead against the wood, along with your hand, spreading your palm over where you thought his was. “You’re not yourself, Luke, you know I can’t..”

“Can we..” he immediately continued. “Can we just..not fight anymore ?” To you his voice sounded so fragile, like glass shattering in slow motion in front of your eyes, and the thought of how he must’ve been feeling, torn between himself and this darkness that slowly ate at his resolve, had your tears pouring faster on the ground below you.

And you didn’t have it in you to answer. The silence stretched again, and you event thought you heard him walk away from the door, which would only make it clear that he had given up, and the idea twisted your guts.

But then, you heard a soft knock on the door from the inside.

“Babe..”

Another knock, softer, quieter.

“Please, I can’t loose you…” he whispered, his voice almost completely muffled by the door between you. “I can’t lose you, I’m sorry, so sorry... I don’t know what’s happening to me, I swear I never wanted to hurt you. Just… just please, can we forget about this? Can we just go back to how it was before?”

You took a deep breath in, your free hand hovering over the lock, the temptation undo it pulling at you. Any possible word you could speak was stuck in your throat, only soft sobs getting past your lips, and you were torn with doubt.

“Sweetheart, please…” he sighed softly, with an edge of urgency, and you couldn’t see the way he gripped the latch on the other side. “I can’t… I can’t do this without you. Just open the door, okay? I promise, I’m fine. I just need you.”

The sweetness laced in his voice almost had you, but the cold, empty-sounding promise, the fake calm the dripped from his words had a chill run up your spine. “I don’t think I should, Luke, understand m-”

“What do you mean you shouldn’t ?” His tone sharpened immediately, a hint of frustration, cutting through. “Don’t you trust me ? After everything we’ve done ? Everything we’ve been through ?”

You tried to control it, but your voice was trembling again, eyes shut tight to focus through the tears. “Luke… This isn’t you-”

“You keep saying this like it makes sense!” he finally snapped, slamming his fist on the door and you yelped, startled, taking a step back as a reflex. But luck wasn’t on your side: you stumbled back, tripping over yourself as you forgot you were on a small step, and fell back on the porch, twisting your ankle in the process. “What the hell does that even mean? You don’t know me, not really. If you did, you’d understand why this matters! You’d see why I have to do this, why we have to do this.”

“I do understand!” you cried out, the pain shooting at your ankle as you tried to smooth over the skin, like it’d help with the forming bruise. “And I fucking know you, that’s what terrifies me! Because now I see clearly how Kronos uses you, twisting you into this thing you’re n-”

“Kronos is not twisting me! He’s opening my eyes, he shows me the truth, about the gods, about this world, about everything. And you’d see it too, if you weren’t so blinded by your trust.”

You covered your mouth with your hand, bringing your legs closer and pressing your knees to your chest, and you could feel the anger bubbling inside of you, the feeling of this unfair words thrown at you burning in your mind. But you couldn’t be mad, because you knew it wasn’t him talking, it couldn’t be.

“Luke-” you choked out, immediately cut off.

“You think you’re so much better than me, yeah?” You could practically hear the venom dripping from his voice. “Sitting there, judging me from the other side of this door like you’re some kind of saint. You have no idea what I’ve been through, what I’ve sacrificed…”

You carefully pulled yourself up, wincing with each step taken towards the door. “I’m not judging you, I’d never-” Your voice cracked, a sob escaping the seal of your lips. “I’m trying to help you, please let’s just.. Let’s calm down, we can talk-”

“No!” He roared, hitting the stone wall at his side. “You know what, I don’t need you. But know that if you’re not with me, you’re choosing to be against me. No more talking now, no more lies. Just open this door, or I swear I’ll-” He stopped abruptly, and, for a moment there, the silence was deafening. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell. I just… I need you, okay? I can’t do this without you.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, hand reaching to the wood of the door between you two, trying to ground yourself. Because as sweet as his words were, you could hear them clear as day: the manipulation, the sugarcoated words he knew you’d fall for, the weakened voice he was luring you in with. And it took all your resolve to not open the door and tell him you’d follow him anywhere. Your blood ran even colder at his next words, low and sharp as a blade.

“Don’t make me wait, babe. You don’t want to see what happens if you keep me out here.”

“Stop!” you shouted back, for the first time of the night that felt like eternity. “Do you even hear yourself? You’re throwing nonsense in your words, you’re contracting yourself, your speech i conflicted- Get a fucking hold, Luke! Hear what you say, you’d never say that, it’s just ideas he’s putting in your head. Just think, for the gods’ sake!” But you immediately regretted, leaning your forehead on the door with your hand clutching the handle. Knowing you couldn’t get yourself to open anyway.

There was a long pause, the air thick with tension. Then came the sound of something heavy hitting the door, a loud, bone-chilling thud that made you jump, eyes shut tightly again.

“Let me out!” he shouted from the other side, his voice raw and furious. “I said let me out!”

You slightly stumbled back, this time minding the step, your chest heaving as panic set in. He was relentless now, pounding on the door with a force that made it rattle in its frame.

“Luke, stop!” you screamed through the loud banging, pressing your hands to your ears to try and shut it all out: it was getting way too much for you to take in. The banging continued, each impact like a hammer to your heart. You could hear him on the other side, his breath ragged, his words slurred with anger and desperation.

You eventually came back closer, turning around to sink back against the wall next to the door, knees tucked to your chest with you hands still firmly pressed on your ears. “I’ll wait,’ you said softly, not knowing if you said it for you or for Luke, “I’ll wait until you’re back to your senses, Luke. I’m not leaving you, don’t worry…”

The banging slowed, the impacts growing weaker, but the tension in the air was still suffocating. You could hear him breathing on the other side, harsh and uneven, like a storm refusing to pass.

“You’ll see,” he muttered, his voice low and bitter. “You’ll see that I was right. And when you do, don’t come crawling back to me.”

You pressed your hands to your face, tears streaming freely now as his words echoed in your mind. This wasn’t him, and you could only hope he’d win the fight that was raging inside his mind.

You must’ve had fallen asleep at some point, because when you lifted your head, you saw the first rays of the sun hitting your eyes, painting its orange hues in the now perfectly clear sky, and the events of the night quickly came back to you. You quickly turned towards the door, reaching for the lock, moving your ankle and hissing in the process as a sharp pain shot through your leg.

“Shit, forgot about that one…”

Carefully, this time, you got up, unlocking the door before twisting the handle, opening the door. The light was filtering through the windows, the early morning atmosphere always your favorite as it cast this eerie glow inside the cabin, but what really caught your eye was the figure sat on the floor, head resting back against a hard wall: some of his dark curls were sticking to his dark forehead, his eyes were lined with dark circles, half open in what looked like a sleepy daze, and his arms rested limply over his knees, loosely drawn up. And you could only imagine you looked just as rough.

Luke’s eyes fluttered as you came into his field of vision, and for a moment there was silence, just staring at each other as neither of you found it in yourself to speak first. You could see now how his eyes, wild and taken over with madness hours ago, were now bloodshot, full an aching sorrow, their usually mischievous glint dulled.

“I…” His lips parted but the tightness in his throat only grew, and he dropped his gaze, ashamed. “I don’t.. don’t know what to say…” he only whispered, not daring to look back at you.

Your heart sank low in your chest at his tone, and you carefully took a few step closer, hissing as pain throbbed in your ankle, which immediately caught his attention. His eyes shot to your swollen ankle, then up your wrist, lined in a faint purple where he’d grabbed you earlier, panic and remorse etched on his face.

“Gods.. I did that.” His voice was breathy, weak, as he reached for your hand only to stop halfway, shuffling away from you a little. “I don’t know what- I hurt you.” Tears threatened to spill from his eyes, twinkling in the faint morning light. “I hurt you…”

“Luke, look at me.” you simply said, keeping him from spiraling as you took a seat next to him, laying back on the wall, your knees short of touching. “My ankle ? I’m just clumsy, okay ?” you lied, trying to ease his burden. “As for the rest… I need you to know it wasn’t you, okay ? Even if you remember, even if you feel like it was you, know it was Kronos. I would never blame you for what happened…”

And it was true, you could never have it in you to hold it against him, because in the end he had just been a puppet in someone else’s game, Kronos’ twisted game.

You reached for his hand, squeezing it between yours as you rested them on your knees, wanting him to really feel the sincerity of your words.

“But it was my hands.” His voice cracked, his emotions pouring in the tears that started slowly rolling on his cheeks, and you only wished you could kiss his troubles away like you did his tears, softly planting your lips on each pearl of salty water as one of your hands reached to cup his jaw. “I feel like a monster I- I didn’t mean to, I swear. I could never mean to hurt you…”

“And I believe you, Luke.” you whispered, voice trembling. “I know you were in there, fighting him, and now you’re here, not him, and you’re not hurting me. I’m not saying it didn’t happen, and you might have to work on it not happening again, for the sake of my wrist,” I continued, joking —though he did not take the joke, only growing gloomier, and my heart ached—, “but you can do this, I know it.”

A wry smile etched itself on the boy’s features, bitter laugh escaping his lips through the tears that had began to stop, and in this light, you’d never seen him look more exhausted. "I don’t know if I can fight him anymore," he admitted, his voice barely audible. "He’s… he’s always there. In my head. Whispering, pushing, pulling. I don’t even know where he ends and I begin anymore.”

You shifted closer, carefully resting your head on his shoulder, and, if he tensed at first, his body quickly relaxed, leaning back into yours. “Well, I am here to tell you, then. I want to help you, Luke, okay? I’m not leaving. We can figure this out, together.”

For a long time the two of you just stayed there, the warming rays of the sun filtering in the cabin, curls falling on your forehead when he laid his head upon yours. To you two it was more comforting than talking, somehow, sharing a moment and giving you both this feeling of belonging, even after a night you probably would never forget, like this soothing silence was a proof you could go through anything and remain like this, together.

Eventually, Luke shifted a little, gently brushing his cheek against your hair. “Do you think Chiron might be… able to help ?”

“I think it’s worth trying.” you whispered back, nuzzling his shoulder. “You’re not the first demigod to go through this, and he’s seen more of the worlds than we could ever fathom… Maybe he’ll even give you some wise centaur metaphor about life and balance ~”

And you couldn’t contain your smile at the sound of his small laugh, like a hug to your heart.

“Yeah, maybe you’re right…”

“More seriously, I’m sure he’ll listen to you, he’ll do the best he can to help.”

He nodded slowly, his eyes drifting back to the bruise on your wrist. His hand hovered near it, but he didn’t dare touch it. "I’m so sorry," he whispered, his voice breaking. "For everything.”

"I know," you said softly. "But it’s going to take more than apologies to fix this. You need to fight, Luke. Not just for me, but for yourself, okay ?” I pulled my head away, cupping one side of his face to look back at me. “It’s probably not gonna be easy, but it’s okay. And if you get lost trying to find your way back, I’ll get lost with you and we’ll make it out, I promise.” You finally said, eyes fluttering close and resting your forehead on his.

Hey people ~

Hope y'all enjoyed it, i do feel like i wrote the same thing in different fonts for most of the story but.... yeah... anyway-

Have a nice day lovess <3

#luke castellan imagine #imagine #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #pjo series #charlie bushnell #fanfiction #lukecastellan #oneshot #pjo #nana's mind ━☆#angst

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gradienty · 3 months ago

Photo

Cedar Wood Finish Bright Green (#661900 to #6feb09)

#Gradient #Cedar Wood Finish #Bright Green #661900 #6feb09 #6619006feb09 #AI

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pasukiyo · 6 months ago

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IN THE COSMOS

remus lupin x f!reader word count; 2,594 warnings; smut! but soft, fluffy smut :) summary; it's a calm afternoon spent beneath a willow with remus lupin, but naturally, you get into your head and wonder whether he believes you two are destined for one another like you do.

The wind’s fingers are soft as it slides through her hair, but Remus’ are softer, laced together with hers. His voice is like a gentle breeze as he reads his book aloud and there’s a light fluttery feeling in her chest whenever he pulls his hand away just long enough to turn the page, his knuckles caressing her cheek before his fingers thread through hers again.

She likes to think they tie together like silk, woven together like a tapestry, their destinies sewn together with needle and thread. She brings Remus’ knuckles to her mouth and peers up at him, his lips moving to form the words on the page but curved in a soft grin as she presses a kiss to his skin. Her own mouth curls in a smile and she drops his hand back to her chest, soothing over the back of it with the pad of her thumb as she gazes past Remus and to the tree limbs above.

It’s a beautiful Sunday afternoon and thankfully, they both had their homework finished to spend the rest of their weekend together. It wasn’t often that this was possible, especially between N.E.W.Ts, so it was a rare moment indeed, one to cherish and dwell in for as long as possible.

The chapter Remus had been reading ends and while he moves to flip the page, she turns her head to look towards the castle just over the hill. “Remus,” she speaks his name aloud and he hums in reply, peering down at her from over the side of his book. “Do you think we’re meant for each other?”

His brows draw together and he folds the edge of his page to hold his place before setting the book off to the side, tightening his hand around hers. She turns to glance up at him, at the way the one scar that slices through his left brow warps when he furrows them.

His eyes are of cedar, a warm, inviting earth tone that reminds her of fall. She loses herself in them and swears she can smell the browning leaves, the wood smoke emitting from chimneys, the damp, earthy air. She can feel the errant breeze as it smites her cheeks, can hear the chopping of wood and snapping of tree branches. It’s easy to forget it is but the cusp of summer when she is with Remus Lupin.

She feels a variety of things whenever her gaze finds Remus’s. But most of all, what she feels is warm. She feels safe in his presence, at home when she is in his arms, or rather lying with her head resting on his lap like a pillow. There is no better word to describe Remus Lupin than haven, for he is her sanctuary, her place of refuge.

That has to account for something. That has to mean that they are as meant for each other as the stars are to the sky. They are written in the cosmos, thread together by invisible strings of shimmering gold.

They have to be.

“What makes you ask?” He questions and she sighs, pressing her thumb down onto his, her other hand resting over her stomach. The truth is, she’s unsure why she suddenly feels the sudden need to hear his answer. Perhaps it’s some sort of lingering fear prowling in the shadows of her brain, perhaps it’s insecurity born from the feeling that she may be alone again someday.

No matter the case, what she knows for certain is that she is eager for his reply, so she shrugs, sinking her teeth into the inside of her cheek.

“I don’t know if there’s such a thing as soulmates,” she begins. “But I’d like to think that if there were, we would be. I can’t see myself living without you, I just wondered if you felt the same.”

Remus churns the question over in his head. Of course he doesn’t see himself living without her, but he wonders why the sudden inquiry, why the sudden need for him to express what he thought was already clear.

His hand that’s not in hers cups her cheek and finally, their eyes meet again and in hers, there is a sort of desperation, a need for reassurance, a desire for something only he can give kindles. His thumb caresses her skin and her eyelashes flutter and he knows that she has nothing to fear, because he couldn’t ever possibly even think of leaving this girl.

“Do you think it is only coincidence that brings us here together now?” He asks, and she blinks up at him. “Do you think that this is only happenstance?”

She blinks away to ponder this, gazing across the sun-kissed meadow, towards the castle.

“Because I don’t.”

She finds his gaze again and he watches the dent form between her brows, turning his hand to stroke the skin of her cheek with his knuckles. Her heart flutters inside her chest at the simple touch, and the longer she stares up at Remus, the more grounded she feels. She swears she can feel the soil in his irises between her toes, the earthy grime seeping into her skin. She feels one with the grass, with the dirt, with the Earth and suddenly, she can breathe again.

“Don’t you think it’s more probable that we are fated?” He continues. “That all the stars aligned the moment we met and that this moment, right here, was written in the constellations?”

She thinks to herself that this is the closest her heart has ever come to exploding. It is enough to be in the presence of the boy she loves, to be touching him and seeing him but to hear these words from him— she wishes she could replay this moment like a film, pressing rewind over and over again.

“Perhaps, that is what it means to be soulmates,” he says. “To feel so strongly for someone that you think it must be destiny that binds you together.”

She pushes herself to sit upright at this, twisting until her hand finds his cheek. It’s easy to forget the world around them when she stares at Remus Lupin, easy to forget that the castle is just over the hill and anyone could come running up it any moment. None of it matters, because everything ceases to exist and it’s just him and her.

“Do you mean that, Remus Lupin?” She asks and it’s silly because she knows he does but she hopes he’ll humor her, and he does. Those pretty, pink lips of his curve into a grin and she believes that everything will be alright as long as Remus Lupin smiles at her like that.

“Well, I wouldn’t be feeling so inclined to kiss you right now if I didn’t, would I?” He jokes and her gaze drops to his lips as she laughs, using the hand on his cheek to draw him in, their mouths becoming one.

It’s like the world shifts whenever she kisses Remus and it’s like its own cataclysmic event. They are two tides crashing into one another, becoming one to rise again. Her lips are soft and pliant against his, kissing him with an urgent, tender need and he pulls her in closer, guiding her onto his lap.

One of Remus’ hands wander behind her head to weave through her hair and she’s reaching for his, fisting locks of chestnut between her fingers. He brings her in closer, his tongue rolling over hers, her own reciprocating with equal fervor.

Her heart pounds against her chest and she pulls away, just for a moment, to catch her breath. Remus’ breath hitches when he opens his eyes to find she’s already staring back and his hand not in her hair cups her cheek, the pad of his thumb tracing the line of her cheekbone from her eye to her ear.

“Everyday,” he says a little breathlessly, and she smiles, drawing her brows together, tilting her head. He shakes his head, and he continues with a titter, “everyday I fall in love with you even more.”

And if her heart hadn’t exploded earlier, it certainly had now. She is a torrent, bursting with emotion for this boy she loved impossibly more than she did just moments before. She falls into him, his hair in one hand, his cheek in the other. His arm not attached to the hand on the back of her neck snakes around his waist, drawing her nearer.

Just like they never left, his lips were back on hers, their tongues dancing a waltz. The tender, urgent need was still present in their kiss but there’s something almost primal about it now, in the way their teeth clash together, their hands pawing at one another’s bodies, tugging at each other’s clothes, humming and moaning into the others’ mouth.

Remus pulls the sleeves of her dress down enough for her breasts to spill from over the top and he pushes the straps of her bra down to her elbows too, his kisses trailing down from her lips to her neck, his hands roaming her chest. Her mouth is agape and her head is tilted back in pleasure as his lips find one of her breasts, tongue circling her nipple.

“Remus,” she breathes when he suckles it into her mouth and he gazes up at her, watching the crease form between her brows, the way her lips quiver as she pants. He hums around her nipple before releasing it with a wet pop, leaving a trail of kisses to the other breast to treat the other erect teat.

When he lets go of this one, her eyelids flutter back open and they take this brief intermission to catch their breaths before Remus finally breaks the small silence.

“Tell me what you want, pretty girl,” he practically whispers, brushing hair away from her cheek. She whimpers when his hand circles to the nape of her neck, rocking her hips against his lip, a soft hiss sliding between his teeth. “Need to feel you,” she replies in earnest. “Need you inside.”

He nuzzles his nose into the crook of her neck affectionately as his hands venture down her waist, past the curve of her hips until they reach the end of her dress. His lips move against her skin to form a silent prayer to Merlin that she chose to wear a dress today of all days so that he can flip it up past her hips, hooking his fingers around the edge of her underwear, pulling them to the side. She shivers at the feeling of his fingers between her legs and she rises just enough to allow him to pull his trousers down, just until his cock is able to spring free.

Her mouth parts when it rests against her thigh and Remus’ palms soothe up her sides beneath her dress, his skin warm like a match against her flesh, setting her ablaze. He nudges his forehead against hers and she blinks as she finds his eyes, honeyed with prudence. Lust is a firestorm on her skin, and it is blazing down a frayed rope leading straight to the pit of her belly where a primal desire blossoms, prone to explode any moment.

“Are you ready?” He asks in a murmur and her eyes round, nearly pleading. Remus thinks he could come just by watching her expressions change like phases of the moon. She nods against his head, rolling her bottom lip between her teeth. “Please, Remus,” her whisper is a plea and Remus’ breath shudders. “Just need to feel you inside.”

They both drop their gazes below to their laps, watching as they connect, finally becoming one and the firestorm on her skin erupts into a volcano, magma pouring over her. She gasps, either of her hands dropping to his shoulders, head lolling back as she burrows her fingernails into the material of his shirt.

Remus guides her with his hands on her hips down his length until he’s fully sheathed inside and he swears that this is the most at home he’s ever felt— inside of his lover beneath a willow tree across the meadow from Hogwarts. Her hands fall from his shoulders and her arms wrap around his neck instead, his face dropping to her collarbone as she hugs him closer.

He curses into her shoulder and his fingertips burrow into her skin as she begins to move, Remus’ hands guiding her back and forth. She is a volcano erupting, and he is what burns in her wake, but he is steel, unscathed and braving her storm. He is her mainstay, the only one who is capable of anchoring her down to this Earth. It’s entirely plausible she would fly away if it weren’t for Remus holding her down, keeping her grounded.

Her hips move recklessly and he can feel her walls squeeze around him, a groan emitting through the cracks of Remus’ tightly pressed lips. He’s hitting places deep inside of her no one else has been before and he takes pride in this, bucking his hips into hers, relishing the way her back arches and her chest presses against his as she mewls, brows pinched in ecstasy.

He pants her name and she tries to open her eyes but it’s hard when he’s prodding that delicate spot so deep inside of her that she’s unable to see anything but stars. He presses his lips to her chin, murmuring her name against her skin like a prayer. “Look at me.”

Her head lolls forward against his and finally, she peels her lids open, just enough that she can make out the color of his eyes. He kisses just below her eye and she whimpers, that knot at the pit of her belly trembling, bound to burst any moment. He’s rapt by the flush in her cheeks, the eagerness in which her eyes gleam, the line formed in her brow.

“Together, hm?” He pants, nodding as he tightens his hands on her hips, guiding her back and forth faster on his length. She whines, nodding against his head, just desperate for release. “Oh, Remus,” she mewls. “I’m so… I’m going to…”

“I know, love,” he whispers. “It’s okay. I’m…” he pauses to squeeze his lids shut, his body quaking as his release nears. “…close too. You can come, pretty girl. You’ve done so well.”

His pretty words honeyed with endearment is just what she needs to be sent over the edge and she gasps, falling into him. He’s there to catch her of course, arms bound tight around her body as he, too, meets his end, spilling himself deep inside of her.

Their hearts beat together and they say nothing, at least, for a couple of moments. Her eyes are closed and she rests her head on his shoulder, and Remus almost thinks she’s fallen asleep. He nudges the side of her head with his and she hums as a response. His length remains inside of her but neither makes any moves, and she relishes the feeling of being full for as long as she can.

“Still with me?” He asks beside her ear and he feels her grin against his skin, sticky with sweat. The willow tree shifts and bends above them as the breeze whispers across their skin and she nestles in closer to him. His fingers weave through the hair atop her head, nails scraping her scalp as he threads down its length. She breathes a laugh, nodding.

“Always.”

a/n; been feeling really soft for remus lupin lately so naturally, made another fic for him! this one was actually really fun to write so i hope you all enjoy reading as much as i enjoyed writing it :)

🪄 if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging, or even leaving a reply to let me know! 🎀 🫶

TAGLIST

@pinktree

@jxxey3

@iamthejam

@strangerfromketterdam

@burns-in-the-sun

@cancelledkaley

@d3adp00ls

@all-in-the-fandoms

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin #remus lupin smut #remus lupin imagine #remus x reader #harry potter #wizarding world #harry potter fandom #harry potter imagine #remus lupin x you

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ricep0pp · 1 year ago

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Choso headcanons bc im unwell

18+ under the nsfw heading minors dni

sfw

his eyebrows are dense and fluffy and he has just the tiniest hint of a unibrow that unites them when he knits his eyebrows together

any music about not feeling human enough or something adjecent to that will make him cry (will wood, TØP, etc.)

he was sentient and able to 'observe' his surroundings for the ~150 years he was in the jar

which means he likely had to watch noritoshi kamo abuse his mother to create his younger siblings

in the jars he had a sort of telepathic connection to the other death paintings

for all the years they were contained they all could communicate (in a sense) and found comfort in each other (thats why hes so obsessed with family and keeping his brothers safe and it also explains how he just *knew* that yuji was his brother)

probably has a breakdown at least once a month about his trauma

doesnt think he deserves to live a human life but keeps going for his family

smells like lavendar and cedar wood with a faint trace of laundry detergent

has an oral fixation and is always biting his lip/cheek or around his fingernails

nsfw

his favorite bedroom petname for you is bunny

has the NASTIEST breeding kink but everybody knows this

"my little breeding bunny" is a required phrase at least once every time you fuck

the type to ask you for a quickie before work only for you to show up 45 minutes late because he just couldnt stop fucking you

would be an absolute bastard about it and show up with lunch for you only to give you head under your desk the entire duration of your lunch break

verbally an absolute bastard of a tease but he cant hold himself back long enough to tease you physically

refuses to do anal completely; if hes not cumming in your cunt it doesnt feel right to him

never shuts the fuck up about how pretty you would look pregnant with his baby

always goes for multiple rounds with very short breaks in between (he doesnt even pull out)

literally fucks himself stupid in you and fucks you stupid in the process

when you both do finally finish (for the final time (maybe)) his aftercare is immaculate

you are literally the stars in his sky and he wants you to know it

#i definitely have more but its 4am and im exhausted #choso headcanons #jujutsu choso #choso x reader #jjk choso #choso kamo #choso smut #choso

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hayakawalove · 9 months ago

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Test of Love (Chapter Four)

Chapter Four

All Chapters

Summary: You decide to forgive Suguru, it's too hard -not- to.

A/N: I hope you guys are enjoying it so far! I really can't wait to start writing nasty smut for this fic. I really appreciate the comments!

CW: Fem Reader, AFAB Reader

W/C: 5,098

Credit to @benkeibear for the banner

Your class was running you ragged. When Maki wasn’t yelling at the top of her lungs, you heard Panda breaking desks. Calling it a migraine would be putting it lightly. Your skin prickled at the sight of the second years shoving each other, arguing about something or the other. You loved being a teacher, you really did, but damn if they didn’t make it hard sometimes. You plaster on a fake smile and grab Maki and Panda by the scruffs of their necks, digging your fingers in tighter the more they wiggled in your hold.

“Stop fighting before I tie you to a tree and leave you to make up with each other.” You try to contain your anger but it leaks out in every syllable.

“She started it!”

“Why would I stop when-“

Your feet are moving before Maki can finish her sentence. You loved them to death but they were always doing something to rile you up. It wasn’t on purpose, hopefully. Panda was just Panda and Maki was just Maki.

The harsh heat of the sun beats down on your skin as you fasten the rope across their bodies. Panda looks deflated as he sits on one side of the tree while Maki is holding back a snarl on the other side.

“When I come back the both of you better have figured something out and apologized to each other.” You step away and admire your handiwork.

“I’m better sure that qualifies as child abuse.” Satoru walks up to you, looking towards the tree.

“Yeah, well, everything we do counts as child abuse.”

Plus you weren’t doing it to hurt them. If anything you were doing it to help them. Especially Panda; Maki looked as if she was two seconds away from tearing him limb from limb. It was something she could’ve, and would’ve, done. You definitely didn’t want to have to be the one to explain that to Yaga. You were not about to be put on trial for negligence.

You face Satoru and feel a different type of heat crawl up your cheeks. Memories from the night you spent together flood through your brain. His tongue dragging on your skin, teeth sinking into your flesh, it was hard to focus on what he was saying as you stared at his beautiful pink lips.

Satoru says your name, jutting his face closer to yours. The close proximity causes your heart to stutter as you turn your head, unable to look him in the eye.

“Are you even listening to me?”

His cologne overwhelms your senses. Cedar wood and pine. There’s butterflies in your stomach as you put on a brave face to look towards him. When you turn to him he grins, dropping his eyes to your lips before back up again.

“You weren’t listening. Maybe you just want me for my body.” Satoru teases, before stepping away to his full height.

“Well I certainly don’t want you for your personality.” You quip, feeling the temperature drop back down once he wasn’t invading your privacy.

“You and Suguru are so cruel to me.” Satoru feigns disappointment.

At the drop of the black haired males name the space between you two falls silent. You hadn’t spoken about him in several days, not since the night Satoru and you shared.

Satoru’s the first to break the silence.

“Have you talked to him yet?”

You were sort of dreading that question. Because the truth was, you hadn’t talked to him. You didn’t know how. There wasn’t a rule book for this situation. Were you supposed to reach out first? It appeared like he was stepping back to give you breathing room, but you didn’t want breathing room anymore. You wanted to be suffocated by him.

“No.” You speak under your breath, looking away again.

You can tell Satoru understands. Whether or not he agrees with you is still up for debate. He appeared unbothered by the situation. It seemed like he thought the whole thing was funny, which you couldn’t really disagree with. It really was absurd, wasn’t it? Plus, you had a hard time believing much would cause a real fight between the two. Sure, they bickered, but you knew true fights were few and far between.

Satoru hums and follows you back to your classroom. His students were out on a mission. Yuuta and Inumaki had just left, effectively freeing up your schedule. There had been no word of the recent attacks lately, it appeared like the new strategy that Yaga came up with was working. For now, at least.

“For what it’s worth, he won’t stop talking about you. It’s even starting to annoy me, and I’m the annoying one.” Satoru speaks and sits on a chair in front of your desk.

You make yourself comfortable behind the table, getting your things ready to go.

“I’ve never seen him so distraught before.” Satoru goes on, grabbing one of your desk decorations, fiddling with it before you snatch it from his hand.

“Why is he the distraught one?” You ask, trying to not pay attention to the churning feeling in your gut.

Satoru shrugs and kicks his legs up on your desk, ignoring the dirty look you give him. You couldn’t tell if he was trying to piss you off.

“Good question. Probably because the guilt is destroying him from the inside out. Or something.”

Satoru was dramatic.

Even so, part of you believed what he was saying.

You sigh and cross your arms on the desk, laying your head down. Suguru was nice, there was no doubt in your mind that he felt bad for what happened. At first, you enjoyed it a little bit, knowing that he felt bad because what he did was wrong. But that turned into guilt. You weren’t sure which of you was more remorseful now.

“If he had it his way he would be smothering you. He’s like that, you know. But he respects space so he isn’t going full mother hen on you yet. Although the second you come around he definitely won’t hold back again.”

You tap your forehead against your arms several times. Smothering you, huh? You’re reminded of the actions he did on your date, the ones that struck you as parental. It would make sense if he was overwhelming. Not that that was a bad thing.

You almost had to laugh, the two men were so opposite. Suguru was overwhelming on the inside but tried to hold back, while Satoru was overwhelming on the outside, but was more reserved the closer you got.

“Where do I even start, Satoru?” You peek out over your arm, catching a glimpse of a smile when you say his name.

It was still taking you time to get used to it, but you liked the way it rolled off your tongue.

You liked his name.

“Don’t know. Whenever I piss him off I just annoy him till he gets over it. He doesn’t piss me off very much so I’m not sure what I’d do. But you could just start over with him. A redo.”

A redo?

You think about the idea for a moment before you hear your name being called from the courtyard. Satoru remains seated as you stand up, making your way towards the doors. Maki is yelling at you but you’re having a hard time hearing her. When you get closer, you see that the two of them look much more calm. Maybe it was a bit harsh, but it worked.

“We forgave each other, can you let us go now?” She yells.

You crouch and begin working the knot, thoughts floating back to Suguru.

After work, you should do something after work.

When you stand back up you stagger behind your students, head in the clouds as you think about Suguru. Pink covers your vision as flower petals dance to the ground in front of you. The splash of color reminds you of the butterfly wings you saw with him. It was such a magical date, you truly hadn’t been on anything like it.

The door slams behind you as you enter your classroom and you feel your heart sink. Satoru had left. It was a shame, you were enjoying his company. You couldn’t be that upset, though. He was constantly being dragged away for missions. You needed to leave soon anyway, so you tried not to let it get to you.

~~~

The sun blurs your vision as you make your way to the old bookstore. You planned on stopping in after work to gather your thoughts before heading to Suguru’s (and Satoru’s). You find you always did your best thinking when in the confines of the book shelves. An overwhelming smell of old paper and black ink hits your nose as you walk through the threshold. It was quiet today, everyone was probably enjoying the nice weather outside instead of staying in to read.

You wander the halls and find yourself down an aisle, looking for a specific book. Your eyes glaze over the different titles until you find the one you’re looking for. ‘In the beginning’. It was a book Suguru had told you about over text late one night. He said it wasn’t nearly as good as the one you were reading previously, but that it was still decent. You wrap your fingers around the spine and pull it out, clutching it in your hand while you go to your favorite seat.

It was the same seat that you had met him in. You plop down and open the book, turning to the first page. You allow the words to whisk you away.

The space around you is completely silent, save for the sounds of the fragile paper between your fingers. You don’t notice a man walking up to you.

“That’s a good book.” A voice softer than silk reaches your ears.

Hold on.

You know that voice.

You tear your eyes from the page to see a man standing in front of you. Hair deeper than obsidian and an angular face tilted down towards you.

Suguru.

“I think so,” you attempt to keep your voice steady.

You’re reminded of your first meeting with Suguru in the cozy building.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt, I just saw the book you were reading.”

“It’s okay, in fact someone recommended this to me.”

His lips twitch into a slight grin as you play along with him. A redo, Satoru’s voice plays back in your head.

“Is that so?” He questions, sitting on the chair across from you.

The same chair he sat in when you met.

“Yeah, the guy has really good taste.”

Suguru’s mouth parts as his tongue drags across his bottom lip, the action slow, vaguely reminding you of the night you saw him last.

“What’s your name?”

You say your name, watching as his eyes glisten at the sound.

“You have a pretty name.” His arms rest lazily on the chair, tendons littering his hands. “My name is Suguru.”

There’s butterflies in your stomach now, just like the butterflies you saw with him at the observatory. The discussion feels like a carbon copy of the initial one you had, minus your feelings. Back then, you were nervous. But now, you were only giddy.

“What is it you do for a living?” He asks.

“Actually I’m a teacher.”

“Really? I’m curious if you know my boyfriend. His name is Gojo Satoru.”

Your face cracks into a grin as Suguru opens himself up. In addition to him revealing Satoru, you could also see a wave of blue surrounding his form. Cursed energy.

“I do, for better or worse.”

Suguru lets out a chuckle at your words, crescent eyes locked closed as his chest rumbles. His laugh was soothing.

You were so glad he came up to you first. Even though you were planning on going to his house after this, you still weren’t sure what you were going to say. Obviously he would know what to say. The world around you disappears as your gaze focuses on Suguru.

It was comforting to be around Suguru. It was hard to be without him, even if you hadn’t known each other that long.

Even though you enjoyed Satoru, and you really did enjoy Satoru, it felt right to have the two of them balance each other out.

“I hope I’m not coming off too strong, but would you be interested in going out?” He asks.

Yes, yes, a hundred times yes.

“I don’t know, would your boyfriend mind?”

“Something tells me it wouldn’t bother him.”

You grin.

“What’s your number?” You say this, knowing full well his contact is already in your phone.

He reads it to you and you go to his contact, finally saving it under his name. You read your number out to him, no doubt in your mind he already has it.

“I’m looking forward to it.” He slides his phone in his pocket.

You watch as he departs, until you can no longer see him. You should be getting home too.

~~~

Your feet hit the pavement as you start your walk home. You were relieved that Suguru reached out to you. You were hoping he would text you soon for details about the date. You wondered what the two of you would get up to. The last time you saw him things got heated very quickly. It felt like things had reset though, and you were glad for it. You wanted to do things right this time.

Although you didn’t want to forget everything that happened.

Suguru’s laughter, smell, and the way his voice sounded pressed up against your ear filled your mind.

You see a single butterfly overhead, a rare occurrence for the bustling streets of the city, and you stop in your tracks.

You couldn’t wait for him to text you.

Your feet move before you have a say, and you’re running to Satoru and Suguru’s apartment. You were still by the bookstore, so it would have been faster to catch a cab, but you weren’t thinking straight.

You had wasted time being mad at him. You needed to see him again. All rational thoughts leave your head.

You stop running after thirty minutes, once their tall building stands before you. It was a bit daunting. You force yourself to step inside the building, and goosebumps immediately crawl over your skin. There was a sheen of sweat layering your forehead and your hair was a crumbled mess. The attendant eyes you, only looking away when you meet her gaze. You looked crazy. You almost thought about turning right back around, the absurdity of the situation hitting you like a freight train.

No, you were here and you were going to do this.

Your feet make their way to the elevator, and you thank god when it opens and there’s no one inside. You feel antsy as the elevator carries you to their floor, mind flailing as you try to come up with something to say.

I know we just saw each other, but I want to see you again.

What if he wasn’t home yet? That would be awkward.

You walk towards their apartment, your fist knocking the door once you reach it.

You’re still out of breath as the door creaks open. Suguru’s standing there, brows raised in surprise as he looks down at you.

“Who is it?” Satoru calls from behind.

Suguru says your name, watching as you breathe hard.

“You here for part two?” Satoru says, a playful tone filling his words.

Suguru’s face scrunches up as he looks behind him before turning back towards you.

“What’s up?”

“I want to talk to you.” You pant.

Suguru steps out, closing the door behind him to gain some semblance of privacy. You knew Satoru probably had his ear pressed against the door, if there was anything that bugged him it was not being privy to some information.

“I’m sorry for overreacting to what happened. I was stupid. And I just wanted to know if you wanted to go on a date soon, like tomorrow.” Your words rush out, watching as an indecipherable expression lights up Suguru’s face.

He stops you, placing a finger underneath your chin. He tilts your face up and plants a kiss on your lips.

“I would love to go out tomorrow.”

Your hands grip his shirt, biting your cheek as relief washes over you.

~~~

When you meet Suguru for your second first date it was dusk. A pink orange hue had settled over the city, the bustling metropolis more quiet than usual. The sky reminds you of cotton candy and your thoughts drift to Satoru, his sweet tooth making a smile break out on your face.

“What’s got you smiling?” Suguru breaks you from your trance when he reaches you.

You look up at him, eyes trailing down his unwavering figure. His hair was half up half down, and he wore lazy clothes with a jacket. You liked this look on him.

“I was just thinking of Satoru.”

Suguru stops short in front of you, offering his arm up. You graciously accept, threading your elbow around his. A smile quirks on his lips as the two of you start off.

“Thinking of another man on our date?” He’s poking fun at you.

You nudge him with your shoulder, and your ear picks up on soft laughter escaping his lips. The two of you decided on dessert, agreeing that you deserved as much after a long day of work.

Your feet carry you down a sidewalk until you reach a small dessert shop. Cakes, cookies, and ice cream were advertised on the windows, the thought of it making your mouth water.

It’s relatively slow when you step inside. There’s several families and a group of friends, but all of them are keeping to themselves. The sweet scent of sugar fills your senses, fueling the excitement that was beginning to boil in your stomach. It seemed like such an odd place for him to take you. Honestly, it was more fitting for an idea for Satoru to pitch, not his black haired counterpart.

You stroll up to the counter, eyes the size of the moon as you glance down at the display of sweet treats. The cakes were looking the most appealing, so you decide on that. You lift a finger up to point to a triple chocolate cake, your body shimmying slightly as the worker slices you a piece. You think you see Suguru out of the corner of your eye watching you, but you decide not to say anything. There wasn’t much of a point in getting embarrassed in front of him, he had already seen so many sides of you. Suguru requests a slice of vanilla cake and pays, shortly following you to a table in the back of the shop.

You don’t feel nearly as nervous as you did when you had your first date. There was already this calm understanding between the two of you (something that probably happened after you grinded against him in the club).

The two of you talk about your days, the conversation flowing just as easily as it did whenever you talked to Satoru. Suguru told you he was off today, and spent most of the morning cleaning his apartment.

“I was a bit surprised you didn’t reach out first, Satoru said you tended to be smothering.” You laugh to yourself, sliding your fork through the cake.

It tears like paper, the texture moist and fluffy. Homemade chocolate icing decorated the outside, spirals printed into the cake.

“Did he?” Suguru asks rhetorically, crossing a leg over his other, taking a bite of his dessert.

“He did. Although I’m a bit surprised. I would have thought he would be the smothering one, just based on his personality type. But at times he seems a bit guarded.”

Suguru remains quiet as you speak, his eyes remaining downcast as he thinks.

“He is. He just isn’t used to opening up around people. From what I hear though, he has no problem talking to you.”

You dig your teeth into your bottom lip and grin, dragging the fork to your mouth. The dessert melts onto your tongue, tainting your lips brown.

“I would like to think so. I mean, he’s not always guarded. He told me he gets needy after-“ you stop yourself, staring into your cake. You drag your eyes up and see Suguru watching you, an intrigued look on his face. After looking down once more you finish your sentence. “Sex.”

Suguru’s brow lifts as his eyes stay steady on you. The hair on the back of your neck raises.

“When’d he say that?”

Your eyes are glued to the table in front of you as your body heat rises twenty degrees. When did it get so hot? You can feel Suguru’s eyes staring into you, no doubt trying to read your mind. You’re really glad he can’t, because if he could he would see your night with Satoru replaying over and over.

It wasn’t that you were afraid of telling Suguru you and Satoru had sex (sort of), he knew you were also seeing him. Hell, he almost had sex with you first. So why did it feel like you were caught red handed?

“Oh um, a couple days ago.”

Suguru’s head tilts as he continues looking at you, obviously not satisfied with your answer. You feel a bit like a mouse, with Suguru seeming like a cat who had his gaze set on you.

“How’d that come up?”

Surely he was fucking with you. He knew exactly what happened. Satoru must’ve told him, right? The fucker couldn’t keep anything to himself, you wouldn’t be surprised if Satoru bragged to Suguru as soon as he could.

“When we,” you fiddle with your fingers, unable to meet his eyes.

You were an adult for Christ's sake, so why did you feel so small under his gaze?

Those fucking eyes of his.

Suguru lets out a chuckle and raises his fork to his mouth. Your chest feels lighter at the break in tension, your shoulders sagging in relief. He takes one more bite before pushing his plate towards you.

“Come on, try it.”

You look up at him and grin, grateful he was letting you off the hook. You pierce your fork in his cake, dipping it in your mouth. The vanilla compliments the chocolate well, the mixture making your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“You can have the rest of it. If not, I’m just gonna give it to Satoru, he practically begged me to let him join us but I told him you weren’t ready for that yet,” Suguru rests his head on his hand, watching you eat. “You aren’t, right?”

That is what you told Satoru. You wanted to take it slow, and enjoy your time with each man separately before diving head first into a polyamorous relationship. You probably should wait, it was already overwhelming to spend time with them one at a time, you weren’t sure how you would be able to handle both at once.

You did, however, know you wanted to.

“Yeah, not yet at least. I do want to, it’s just,” you cut yourself off.

How are you supposed to tell him that both of their presences make you feel like you’re drowning?

“I get it.” Suguru’s voice soothes you.

Of course he would. You remember what Satoru had to say about Suguru. Nice and understanding. They were the same words you would use to describe him as well. It was sort of weird, though. For years you had heard small bits about this man through Satoru or Yaga.

You knew he would sometimes snore when he was starting to get sick. You knew he was smarter than Satoru in all subjects besides math and science. You knew what his breakfast order was. But you just had never known him. You never knew what he looked like, how he smelled, how your name sounded off his lips.

But now you did. And you were so grateful.

You nudge the plate forward back towards Suguru, feeling as though your stomach may burst. There were several bites left, and you were sure that Satoru would chide Suguru for not leaving him more.

“I can’t eat anymore, you might just have to roll me out of here.” You rub your hand across your stomach, leaning back into the chair.

Suguru smiles at that. You’ve decided you really liked his smile.

It’s dark when the two of you step outside, a cool breeze causing a chill to run up your spine. You shiver, an action that doesn’t go unnoticed by Suguru. He shrugs off his jacket and carefully drapes it over your shoulders, and moves a piece of hair out of your face, sliding it behind your ear. Smothering. The word runs through your mind again. Suguru was doting, that much was obvious. But you could see how it may come off as overbearing. You wouldn’t mind being smothered by Suguru. You doubt Satoru minded it either, in fact you were sure it must have contributed to the reason Satoru was a spoiled brat.

“Let’s get you home, yeah?” He squeezes your hand.

You rest your head against his arm as the two of you walk back to your house. You had only gone out to eat, yet somehow it had felt magical. Not only did it feel magical, but it felt normal. You liked that about Suguru. Being with him felt like you were in a fairytale, and at the same time you felt like an ordinary girl. You never spoke about work with him, he allowed you to just be.

Not that you hated that about Satoru. In fact, you quite liked it. It was nice having someone who understood you and the work you were doing, someone you could bitch to whenever Yaga got on your nerves. They really did balance each other out well.

The moon lights up your path as you walk besides Suguru, the low sounds of the city a low buzz in your ears. It was never quiet here. You didn’t really mind it. You probably would’ve been paranoid if it was quiet. Anytime you had a mission in a small town it felt like you were waiting for something to jump out at you.

You decide you want to hear Suguru’s voice some more.

“Hey Suguru?”

He hums, eyes flickering down at you before returning to the sidewalk.

“What do you like about Satoru?” You’ve been meaning to ask.

For years you heard Satoru talk about Suguru, so you were interested in hearing what the other man had to say.

Suguru stops and looks around a bit dramatically. He’s looking at the bushes that line the pavement, and over the parked cars.

“What’re you doing?” You stop and watch him.

“Seeing if Satoru’s hiding somewhere. Did he put you up to asking that?”

You start to laugh, your hand coming up to cover your mouth. You close your eyes as you chuckle. It really is something that Satoru would ask.

When you open your eyes you see Suguru looking down at you, watching as you laugh. Your heart skips a beat at the way his eyes shine in the moonlight. A soft smirk is painted on his face while he looks at you.

“No, no he didn’t. I just wanna know. He’s talked about you a lot, you know.”

Suguru dips his head and turns forward again, starting to walk. You follow after him and look up, watching as he talks.

“He’s just Satoru. It’s hard to explain. He’s annoying, noisy, cocky-” Suguru lists off.

“Pretty sure I asked what you like about him.” You stop him.

“-but he's also intelligent, funny, and caring. He cares so much for people, even though he has a weird way of showing it.” Suguru uses a tone you've never quite heard him use before.

“I never really felt understood by people. I come from a family of nonsorcerers, so for a while it just sort of felt like I was the only one who existed. I love my family, but they never really understood me, still don’t.”

You come from a family of nonsorcerers too, so you knew the feeling all too well. You were so damn lonely as a kid.

“And then when I met Satoru it was like my world shifted. Not only was he a sorcerer as well, but he was the strongest one. Or, on track to become the strongest one at least. I didn’t feel alone anymore. And I haven’t ever since.”

You feel weightless at his words. The love the two of them had for each other was unbreakable. The kind of love you could only read about, the kind of love you weren’t sure really existed until now.

Your heart aches at the possibility of them loving you in the same way. It was something you had dreamed about since you were little. They might not love you in the exact same way, but they might love you just as much. You begin to feel dizzy at the prospect.

Your apartment comes into view and you feel a little sad that your date was over. You would be seeing him again, you remind yourself.

“Don’t tell him I said any of that, though. His head is big enough as is.” Suguru murmurs.

You laugh and agree. Satoru would not shut up if you told him what Suguru said. Something told you that Satoru knew how much Suguru loved him, though.

Your feet stop as you reach your apartment. Suguru faces you and smiles as you begin to take off his jacket.

“Keep it, what if your apartment is cold too?”

You bite back a smile, wrapping it around you once more. He wanted you to keep it.

“Smart, I wouldn’t want to catch a cold in my house.”

“I would never forgive myself if you did.”

Suguru’s eyes lock with yours. He leans down to place a kiss on your forehead. Warmth blooms across your skin, crawling down your body. He pulls back and pushes his lips against yours, the taste of him seeping through you. He tasted like vanilla.

Your eyes flutter open when he steps away. You tug his jacket around you tighter, waving as he turns to go home.

Those two boys were going to be the death of you.

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cillianhead · 1 year ago

Note

Hello dear!!! I hope you're having a wonderful day!

Could you please write a piece about Cillian falling for a (younger!) poet? He starts frequenting her reading sessions and that's how they meet. The rest is up to you!

Thank you 🩵

Yes!! Love this, thank you <3

Enjoy my sweet nonny!

This is heavily inspired by the song All Too Well (10-minute version) (Taylor's Version) by Taylor Swift!!

Wind In My Hair, I Was There || Cillian Murphy x Reader

warnings: Smut, angst, age gap (reader is in her mid to late twenties, Cillian is in his forties.), swearing, Cillian is sort of an asshole in this in some parts, so that is a warning, infidelity (Cillian is married), general adult content ahead!!

Minors DNI! 18+

I'd also like to clarify this isn't really based on the real Cillian!! I know he's married and very happy, this is just fiction and fantasy!! Not meant to portray Cillian as a bad person!! I'd also like to clarify that the ready doesn't really know who Cillian is... or maybe like Cillian isn't that famous in this fic universe or something because there are a few plot points that may seem questionable... that's all. Anyway... enjoy!!

The autumn you spent with Cillian Murphy would be one you would always remember, not that you really had a choice in whether or not you could forget him.

Your apartment was small and cozy at the time, with a perfect view of the falling leaves outside. It was sitting across from a small park in New York City; the trees were red and orange, and it felt like the fall was putting on a show just for you. You felt fortunate and privileged to live in such a place.

You lived right up the road from a small cafe with a library. Every Thursday, you meet with like-minded writers and read your work aloud. It helped bring you out of your shell; you felt a sense of pride when you read your poetry out loud and had people praise you for being so brave and how well you wrote. Despite the fact you have been attending these little group meetings for almost two years now and you felt pretty comfortable amongst the people who were there, you felt like you could vomit your pounding heart right up every time you stood at that podium in front of the dozen or so people that attended. But even with the lump in your throat, you'd read with a shaky voice and tears ready to spill, you would receive the same round of applause every time and a pat on the back from some of the attendees you were closer with.

It was September 14th when you first saw him, but it wasn't the first time he had seen you, summer still lingering in the air but barely grasping on as Autumn began to take the reigns. You were standing at that cedar-wood podium, reading aloud as nervously as you always did. You had yet to notice him quietly slip in; you were too busy ensuring you were on the right line.

"-And something beautiful sprouted, something that I am not... something that I never will be." You looked up after reading the last line, biting your lip nervously and stepping back from the speaking podium. There he sat, in a sweater and the most hypnotizing eyes you had ever seen. Maybe love at first sight was real, you thought briefly. People clapped, but the room remained silent and still for you as you two made eye contact; he didn't clap; he just stared at you with a look that told you he was just as taken aback by you as you were by him.

He kept attending the sessions, but he never got up and read anything and never really interacted with anyone else; in fact, you'd see him get up and leave once you had finished reading your poetry. You wondered if anyone else noticed him the way you did, or maybe he was a figment of your imagination... a ghost.

It was October 19th when you first spoke with him. You dreamt about him day and night, and you two had never even spoken before every session; you'd wonder if he'd be there, and he always was. Sitting in the same seat, at the very back, going ultimately unnoticed by almost everyone but you.

"Excuse me, sir!" You yelled out, rushing to follow the man in the plaid shirt and beanie. "You dropped this!" It was a pair of keys you had clutched in your hand, the crisp autumn air meeting the apples of your cheeks.

He turned around, only a foot or two away from you, as he looked at you up and down, taking notice of his keys in your hand. "Oh gosh, thank you, love," He took the keys gently out of your hand, his fingers lingering on yours a little too long for a stranger, fingertips brushing together. "I swear I'd lose my head if it weren't screwed on." You took notice of his Irish accent. It made you even more curious to know him better. "Erm... thank you so much."

"It's no problem..." You trailed off. You're not sure what to say now. He gave you a stiff nod and started to turn around and keep walking, but you just couldn't let him leave. "Wait!" What do you say now?

"Yeah?" He turned around, tilting his head at you, blue eyes staring at you, waiting.

"I... I'm Y/N... by the way... I always see you here... but I never see you read anything..."

"Cillian," He chuckled. "Not interested in reading anything I've written, only here to listen." Cillian's response was short but straight to the point.

"You don't stick around for very long... you always leave after... I've finished reading my writing..."

"Well... your work is the only one I come to listen to. The rest of the lots' poems just go in one ear and out the other," He said honestly. "You've got a charm about you; I've never heard anything like what you write. It's unique and intelligent, cleverly crafted written pieces... It captures my attention, unlike the rest, which all seem like people trying to mimic someone else... you write from your heart... or your head... I can't decide which, really." He notices your silence, Cillian steps a bit closer to you. "Perhaps I've said too much." He mumbles. The proximity of where he stands is close enough that you can feel his warmth, a stark contrast to how cold it was outside. "You've surely captivated me, Y/N." He said your name like it was a sacred prayer.

You felt like your heart was in your throat, looking at him dumbfounded and unsure what to say. "That's... very flattering, I don't know what to say... thank you, Cillian..." You scratch behind your ear, swaying nervously on your feet. Cars honked, and people passed by as you two stood outside the little cafe, which was now closed since the reading sessions had ended. Cillian looked around awkwardly before sucking in a deep breath and exhaling, his breath visible out in the open air due to how cold it was.

"Would you like to go out for dinner with me?" Cillian looked at you, eyes reflecting the city lights. The moment felt like something from a movie or something you'd write a poem about. It felt like something that wasn't quite possible within these depths of reality. "I understand... if not... you're a young beautiful woman... probably got someone waitin' at home for y-" "N-No, I'd love to!" You interrupted him, with your heart racing. "I'd love to go to dinner with you... I don't have anyone at home... waiting for me..."

"Well, aren't I lucky... when are you free?" He gave you a smile, the first you'd ever seen from him. It made his usually sombre face light up; he grinned, making you feel all giddy.

"I'm free any time on the weekends... and on Tuesdays, I have work off, so... I would love to... see you this weekend, maybe?"

"Wonderful, Saturday evening, you and me?"

You nodded. You exchanged numbers and went on your merry way, walking down the streets of New York City with a smile on your face that was purely gleeful. People would give you looks, but you didn't care. You were excited about something for once. You obsessed over it for the next day and a half.

October 21st marked your very first date with Cillian Murphy. At six, you waited patiently outside your apartment building in the cold air. With a red scarf wrapped around your neck your nose runny from the autumnal weather, you looked around like a lost puppy.

"Y/N," Cillian's warm voice startled you from behind you. You jumped but swiftly turned around to look at him, a bashful smile on both of your faces. "You look lovely." You felt your heart pound at the sight of him.

"Thank you. You also look lovely yourself." You replied. He leaned in and kissed your cheek before taking your hand in his and guiding you down the street. The feeling of his hand in yours made the cold weather seem like summer. Your body lit in flames at the idea he wanted you close to him. And the feeling of his lips on your cheek remained there the whole evening, burning its mark into your skin.

The night went on, and you found yourself in a charming Italian restaurant. It was nothing too fancy, but it was nice and romantic for a first date, definitely nicer than any other places other guys have taken you. It was just the two of you sitting towards the back, in a small booth, eating your plates of pasta. You talked, and you talked, and you talked. He spoke about how he was an actor; you could see his eyes light up at his passion for his work. He told you he was in New York for work and was filming a movie for something he couldn't legally disclose yet. Your chemistry was magnetic, and the conversation would weave in and out of different subjects. You talked about anything and everything, things like masculinity, The Beatles, the incident that happened on your 21st Birthday, batman, and everything else there was to discuss. You felt like you had known him forever. He said the same thing and referred to you two as twin flames. When you were about to leave, his phone began to ring.

"Fuckin' hell, what is it now?" He groaned. "Probably just a wrong number... or somethin'... hold on, love." He stepped outside, and you watched him on the phone. Cillian looked angry and frustrated, like he was arguing over the phone with someone. Your heart, which once rode the waves of love and joy, now sank beneath them into the deep dark depths of navy blue and dismay, watching him grow angrier and angrier and yell over the phone. He was seeing red.

When he waved for you to come out, you approached him cautiously. He huffed, puffed, and fidgeted his hands in his pockets, clearly restless. "Who was that? Are you okay?" "It was no one," He replied shortly and coldly. "I'm fine, let's go." You didn't say a word after that. The tension was thicker than the cold. You were afraid of saying anything to further upset him. So silence was the answer as he walked you home. You felt disappointed that this was how the night was ending. You wondered who it was and what they had said that had upset him so badly. The familiar apartment building you called home came closer and closer within sight, the disappointment weighing you down like water in your shoes. The disappointment tracing every inch of your freezing skin.

You stood in your elevator with him. He promised to walk you back to your unit at least, and he kept that promise. "Would you like to come in... Cillian?" You asked. You pulled out your house key and unlocked the door, looking at him hopefully.

"No, I'd better not." He remained cold and rigid with you. He couldn't even bring himself to give you a smile. You felt you'd never see him again; maybe he didn't like you the way you thought he did. Maybe he found you obnoxious and dumb. Perhaps the phone call was from another woman he realized was better than you. Maybe you simply needed to be better for him. "Goodnight, Y/N." He turned and walked away; you couldn't speak as tears welled in your eyes. Sorrow built up within you like some sort of horrible game of Jenga; one wrong move and you'd come crashing down and falling apart all over the place.

"Goodnight..." You whispered, but by then, he'd already stepped into the elevator, and the doors shut, taking him away from you. You cried yourself to sleep that night, both out of self-pity and disappointment.

When you awoke, it was to the sounds of soft raps on your front door. It was eight in the morning. Padding gently down the hallway, floorboards creaking, sleep still in your eyes, and your face puffy from the tears that leaked from your tear ducts the previous night, you opened the door, expecting it to be a neighbor asking you if they could borrow some sugar or something along those lines.

"Good morning," Cillian stood at your door, this time with a big apologetic smile, a complete change from last night's cold demeanour. He held a pink, yellow, and white bouquet and a small paper bag in his other hand. "I came here to apologize... for how I treated you last night." "Come in." You ushered him in.

He noted your knick-knacks, the photos on your walls, and your old, worn-out furniture. The way you decorated the place stood out to him, but the look on your face stood out to him the most. Sad, tired eyes, puffy and glazed over, you looked at him expectantly. "I'm so sorry." He whispered to you.

"What for?" You asked as you sat in your favorite olive green armchair. It was velvet and soft, and you'd spend most of your time writing, reading, or drinking your morning cup of coffee.

"For treating you like I didn't care," He sighed. He sat on the leather sofa beside you, gently placing the flowers on your glass coffee table and the paper bag smelling of freshly baked goods. "I don't want to discuss exactly who it was or what happened on that phone call... but I... I shouldn't have shut you out just because I was upset... that was... wrong of me, and I'm sorry." Your anger and sadness dissipated the way a fire dissipates when it's being smothered: immediately. His big blue eyes were the blanket that hushed that flame out, striking him as immediately forgiven.

"I understand, Cillian..." You mumbled, pulling your knees up to your chest. "Things happen... it's alright... I...." You wanted to confront him and tell him how insignificant and stupid he made you feel, but you swallowed it back and gave him a small smile. You remained the people pleaser you always have been. You spared his feelings over your own. "I understand." You repeated.

"I thought... I would make it up to you," He pushed the small paper bag over to you. "We could spend the day together... if you don't already have plans."

The paper bag contained a chocolate eclair. You had written a poem that mentioned eating a chocolate eclair while in a made-up love affair. The rhyming was cheesy, but it was one of Cillian's favorite poems of yours. It was the first one he had heard from you. Of course, you didn't realize the irony of it at the time. You just grinned and accepted it happily. You didn't know that you were engaging in a relationship with a man who was already married. So you took a bite of the eclair, letting him into your fragile heart, and entered this sad and tragic love affair.

So you spent the whole day together. You walked around New York City, holding hands and laughing your heads off. It felt romantic and intimate, and you got to know each other even deeper than you did before. You kissed under a stop sign and shared sweet nothings. The clouds rolled over, and the sky opened up. The rain watered you down like a pair of leaves in a pot plant, and you both ran through Central Park, trying to find the nearest shelter until you came across a large oak tree. It was something out of a movie, sitting together, soaking wet, staring at each other as lightning strikes in the distance. The wind was in your hair, and his lips were on yours.

You spent pretty much every day together after that. You made love in every room of your apartment, cherishing each other's bodies. Cillian would sit in that cafe, and he would clap after your readings and then reward you with a kiss when you got back down to him. You wrote poetry about him, and he would write some for you. It was a beautiful, quiet, little harmonious relationship you had going on. You found yourself falling in love. You thought he was, too, though you never said it out loud.

He even met your dad. They got along quite well. Your dad didn't seem to mind that Cillian was only a few years younger than him (and much older than you). Your dad just wanted to see you happy and safe. In fact, your dad told you he had never seen you more content. Cillian made your dad laugh, they got along like old friends. Seeing them bonding and getting along made you incredibly happy and excited.

On November 16th, at noon, you got ready to go to where he was staying, wrapping that red scarf around your neck again and stepping out into the living room where Cillian waited for you with eyes full of affection. You had packed a small bag since Cillian told you he was staying at his sister's house in upstate New York. She was away at the moment. "Most beautiful girl I've ever seen." He hummed jollily. You wrapped your arm through his and went down to the lobby.

His car had that new car smell, clearly a rental. "No matter how often I've stayed in America, I never get used to driving on the wrong side of the road." Cillian chuckled, exiting his parking spot and beginning the long drive to his sister's house.

The drive was beautiful. Driving through the city and slowly entering into suburban areas, red and brown trees lining the streets, Halloween decorations on display, and music playing through the radio, you both sang along to the words happily. The drive was surreal and peaceful. You drove down a long country road, and the tall trees created a tunnel above you. Only small slits of the grey sky could be seen through the scarlet leaves.

"We're here, Y/N," Cillian smiled at you, stepping out of the car and walking off without you. You hurriedly got out of the car with your things. "Oh, lock the car for me, the button doesn't work... please, love." He tossed you the car keys, not looking where he was throwing them, and they landed in the dirt before you. You ignored how it made you feel (stupid, insignificant, small), picking up the dirty keys and locking the car manually before rushing over to where he was unlocking the door.

The house was nice and quiet and far from the rest of civilization. It felt like home somehow. It is decorated nicely with photos of his sister and her husband, even some with Cillian when he was younger. It was getting dark by now, and you set your belongings down in the guest bedroom where Cillian was staying. You never asked when he was going back to Ireland. You didn't wanna know. You wanted to appreciate your time together instead of counting down the days.

Cillian cooked you dinner and shared a long, loving kiss to say thanks. You sat cuddled up on the couch together afterwards, your crimson scarf hanging over the stair railing as you rested your head lovingly on his shoulder. An old Western movie played in the background, but you were too busy holding each other and whispering sweet things.

"Cillian..." You whispered, pressing soft kisses along his stubbly jaw. "I'm so happy you brought me here... this feels so special." "I'm so happy to have you here, Y/N." He whispered back. Cillian pulled you into his lap. "This is special, just you and me... here... I'm going to make you my own." You wanted to tell him, 'I'm already yours, Cillian; my heart and soul are yours', but you remained silent, smiling dopily at him.

And with those charming words, you kissed him. Flashes of red played through your mind, fireworks sounding off in your head as your lips danced together. His hands cradled your head as you made out nice and slow. Both in your pyjamas now, warming each other up, hands running up and down his back. Cillian's hands wandered down your back until they rested on the tops of your hips, his thumb fiddling with the waistband of your sweatpants.

"Take them off." You hummed, raising your hips slightly off of his, and he obeyed, sliding your pants off until you were only in your panties. Cillian observed how you sat back down on his lap, the lace scrunched up, showing off the curve of your ass.

"I'm going to ravish you." He growled, eyeing you up and down. The timbre of his voice caused your thighs to tightly squeeze together. He pressed you down onto the couch, slipping his pants down until he was just in his briefs. He slipped your shirt over your tits, breasts bouncing out of their containment and straight into his mouth. He sucked happily on your nipples until you were a panting mess, begging for more. "Let me feel you, sweetheart."

"Please..." You exasperated. "Please... Cillian."

Two nimble fingers slipped under your lace underwear, straight down to where your arousal pooled. "So wet f'me, always so wet, aren't you, baby?" He groaned, fingers teasing your slit before sliding back up to rub circles on your clit.

"You know what you do to me..." You breathed out, biting your cherry red lips and closing your eyes, embracing the pleasure. "Always so wet for you, Cillian..."

The way Cillian cradled you in his strong arms as his fingers caressed you to your peak was the most intimate thing you had ever experienced. His eyes watched your face contort with pleasure, mouth open and spilling sounds of satisfaction as you came on his fingers.

"That's it, baby... doing so good," He whispered, kissing your cheek. "So beautiful."

You lolled your head to the side, panting and looking at him with a dazed grin. "Please fuck me."

Cillian laughed at your words. "Such a dirty mouth!" He teased as he tugged down his pants. "Gonna fuck you nice and slow, gonna show you how much you mean to me, love."

Then, in the dim light of the TV and the moon shining through the window, you made love like it was your last night on Earth. Hands ran up and down each other's bodies, trying to savor every final touch. Lips captured together, your bodies working as one, the love was there, glimmering in the light. No words could explain how you felt then; nothing else existed to you, just him and his hands all over your body. You and him for the rest of eternity, at least; that's how it felt in your heart.

You held each other tight in bed, clinging on for dear life. You listened to his heart slow as he slept and the way he breathed. You wondered if he dreamt about you the way you dreamt of him. Eventually, you fell asleep at midnight after watching his pretty face sleeping.

At three in the morning, you wake to an empty bed. Sitting up with a sweat, where did Cillian go? You slip out from under the covers, wincing at the room's cold air that meets your bare legs. You wore one of Cillian's button-ups, only the middle button holding it together as you slowly creep out of the room, listening to the sound of quiet music from the kitchen.

"Cillian?" You called out, cautious and slightly afraid at how dark the house is. It was a lot quieter than you were used to. You were a city girl, unfamiliar with the countryside silence.

"Y/N?" You heard, which relieved your paranoid mind.

Down the stairs, Cillian stood in the fridge's light, soft music playing through a small radio on the kitchen counter. "What're you doing up, Cillian?" You worriedly walked over to him, arms reached out as he turned to look at you, only in his sleep shorts.

"Just needed a midnight snack. I'm alright, my love," He smiled sleepily, with a sheepish look since he wasn't fully awake yet. "C'mere... dance with me."

"Oh... Cillian..." You giggled, walking over to him, letting him wrap you up in his strong arms and sway you gently. "This is nice."

"Mmmm..." Cillian hummed into the soft skin of your neck.

The refrigerator remained open, the cool-tinted light painting you both as you swayed side to side. You were half asleep, and the rocking motion didn't help your drowsiness. You felt as though this was some strange dream.

"Are you real?" You whispered.

"What do you mean?" Cillian purred back.

"I just feel like I made you up." You muttered, pulling your head back to look up at him with big, sleepy eyes.

Cillian looked back at you with the same look. Your wide-eyed gaze and his sweet blue eyes looked like something out of a romance film or something you'd see in a painting. The love you shared was unanimous... or at least you thought so. A kiss and then another kiss and then another turned into a sleepy yet heated make-out.

"Gonna take you right here," He grumbled into your mouth. "My midnight snack."

You giggled at his words as he pressed you against the kitchen island countertop. Kissing so hard it felt like your lips could bruise. He ripped off your shirt and pulled it off you like it was nothing. Cillian growled at the sight of you, hands groping at your tits and lips trailing down your neck. You whimpered, letting your head hang back as he ground his stiff cock into your clothed cunt.

"Fuck!" You whined, wrapping your legs around his hips even further. You ignored the feeling of the marble countertop digging into your lower back; the feeling of his cock was too delicious, too distracting, to really let it ruin the mood. "Cillian, please, baby, just put it in me... need you so bad."

He gave you a grunt and slipped off his shorts before pulling your panties to the side. Cillian acted like a feral dog as he pushed his cock into you and began fucking you on his sister's countertops at three in the morning. The act was sinful.

"Oh god! Yes!" You wailed. You could be as loud as you wanted to out here. No one else was around to hear, and you knew how Cillian liked to hear you scream for him. His hips pistoned in and out of you, cock fitting perfectly inside you. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head. He had never been so rough with you before, but you were enjoying it.

"Best pussy I've ever had," Cillian groaned, sweat dripping from his forehead. "Fuck... so good... feels so good."

His fingernails dug into your hips, grunting into the dips of your neck and shoulders as he chased his own high. You ran your hands up and down his back, leaving scratch marks across his shoulder blades. The fridge remained open, but right now, you didn't care. All you could think about was how good he was fucking you. Drool spilled down your chin, mind blank, and legs went limp from the euphoria taking over.

"Yeah, is that it?" Cillian muttered, voice gritty and low as his hips sputtered. "You gonna cum for me, baby? Gonna cum on my cock?"

"Yes... oh fuck! Yes!" You moaned. "Gonna cum for you, Cillian..."

"Love the way my name sounds comin' from your mouth," He whispered, letting out a mouth-watering whine straight into your ear. Your pussy clenched around him tighter as Cillian, usually a quiet and stoic man, came undone and let out the most delectable pornographic-sounding moans. "Y'make it sound so dirty..."

"Please cum in me..." You whimpered. "Please... need it so bad."

"Really?" Cillian panted and looked at you incredulously. He had never had the pleasure of getting to cum in you yet. "You sure?"

"Yes!" You threw your head back, panting like a dog. "Please, Cillian! Please... give it to me." "Fuck... alright... gonna fill you up, love."

You pressed your face into the curve of his neck, mewling as you came around him and the feeling of his hot cum beginning to spill into you. "I love you." You gasped out, squeezing your eyes shut as you came around him. You meant it; you did love him. You had never loved anyone the way you had loved him. You could see yourself with him for the rest of your life, having his babies, getting married..., and dying together. He just groaned loudly as he came inside you, not saying a word to your confession. Maybe it wasn't the right time, or he would wait until he was done to say something.

"Fuckin' hell..." Cillian whispered as he slipped his softening length out of you and pulled his shorts back up. "Look at that..." He mumbled with amazement, getting down on his knees in front of your quivering and cum-filled pussy.

"Cillian, I-"

"Shhh..." He hushed before pressing a loving nip to your inner thigh, and then he unhinged his jaw and attached his watering mouth to your cunt. You forgot everything you were about to say at the feeling of his tongue licking you up and sucking on your swollen clit. You came again quickly due to how sensitive you were, and Cillian sucked up your gushing juices and his cum that still dripped out of you. Standing up, he grabbed you by the chin and kissed you, spitting the mixture into your mouth, tongues swirling together. You moaned at the salty taste and the dirty act. "Such a good girl..." Cillian hummed. "Swallow it, baby. Show me how good you can be for me."

He watched you gulp it down before leaning in and rewarding you with a wet and messy kiss, teeth grabbing your bottom lip before pulling away. "Cillian..." You whispered, out of breath and incredibly flustered. "That... was so good... I love-" "Let's go to sleep," He interrupted abruptly, crouching and picking up your discarded clothing. "It's real late, sweetheart."

"Oh..." You mumbled, heart breaking a little. "Okay... let's go then." You didn't get a peep of sleep that night. While Cillian snored beside you, one heavy arm draped across you and his hot breath fanning the back of your neck, you stared at the ticking clock with tears slipping down your face. Why didn't he say it back? Why didn't he at least say something? You knew he heard you. The dread built up within you that night, and daylight didn't seem to get any closer.

At 7:47 AM, you were pulled out of a state between consciousness and sleep by Cillian's phone ringing. "Fuck..." Cillian said groggily, reaching over with a heavy hand to pick up his phone. "Who is it?" You moaned out of dissatisfaction from being pulled out of your slumber.

"It's my sister..." He groaned before answering the call. "Hello?.... Yeah, it's alright... no, I don't have anything on today... you're comin' home today?... I thought you'd be home Monday..." You sat up at this, heart racing. Were you going to have to meet his sister today? You were nervous but also excited. Cillian looked over at you with a horrified look in his eye. "Yeah... alright... see you then... bye."

"...Is everything okay?" You asked cautiously.

"Yeah, I guess we're not sleepin' in..." He grunted as he got up and walked towards the en suite. "Gather yer' things, we're going back to the city." "What? Why?"

"I just don't want my sister to know I had a girl over." That was the last thing he said before shutting the bathroom door, clearly in a bad mood. Your heart sank at his words as if it wasn't already hurting. So you got up, fighting back the tears and gathered your things, shoving them back into your bag as you let out a choked sob.

Half an hour passed, Cillian was still in the shower, and you sat at the bottom of the stairs, feeling sorry for yourself. Your bag sat beside you, and the floorboards creaking behind you caught your attention. You turned and looked up at Cillian, dressed in a lovely blue turtle neck, dress pants, and a grim look on his face.

Begrudgingly, you followed him outside and into the car, then began the drive back in silence.

"You wanna grab some lunch wit' me today?" Cillian asked after about twenty minutes of silence.

"No." You said dryly.

"What? You got plans or somethin'?" Cillian asked with a chuckle. The question felt condescending and rude.

"Because what you said to me earlier really fucking hurt me." You hissed, turning to look at Cillian to see him already looking at you.

"What the fuck are you on about?" He barked back, putting his eyes back on the road and giving you that dry, condescending laugh again.

"You said you didn't want your sister to know about me.... that you didn't want your sister to know about you having a girl over."

"Yeah, and?" Cillian quipped, clearly flustered.

"Is that all I am to you?" You whimpered, trying to keep your composure, trying to seem strong. "Just a girl?" "'Course not, Y/N." He said in a hushed tone.

"Then what the fuck are we?" You raised your voice, a tear slipping down your cheek. "Why can't your sister know about me? About us?"

"B-Because..." He faltered before falling completely silent.

"Why, Cillian?" You cried. "You've met my friends... you've even met my father... for fuck's sake... why can't... why can't I meet your sister and her husband?"

He kept his silence. You could see the tears in his eyes that refused to spill. Those tears were just as stubborn as he was.

"Answer me!" You screamed, tears pouring down your exasperated face. "Say something!"

"Because I'm married!" He screeched back.

That shut you up. You leaned back and just stared at your feet. You felt like you had been winded, like all the air in the car had been sucked out, and you were choking on carbon monoxide. He was married. You sobbed as the shock set in, and Cillian pulled the car over to the side of the road, unbuckling his seatbelt. You fell into a state of despair; your chest felt incredibly heavy, and your brain played a loop of hopeless thoughts.

"Y/N," Cillian said firmly, reaching out and placing a soft hand on your shoulder, which you quickly smacked away. "Y/N... look at me..."

You looked over at him, and you could see him wince at the look on your face. He'd never seen you in so much pain. Never had he seen you look at him so coldly. "What?" You spat. "What is it, Cillian?"

"I... I'm sorry."

"Fuck you," You cried harder, covering your face with your hands and leaning on the dashboard. You cried so hard it felt like you could vomit. You felt like the salty tears were slowly dissolving you away. "Fuck you!" You sobbed.

"Y/N... I am sorry."

"If you were sorry..." You hiccuped, looking back at him with red eyes and tears endlessly slipping down your flustered face. "You never would have... you never would have done this to me... you never would have gotten involved with me!"

Cillian sighed and shook his head, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I... I stumbled into that cafe one night, and I saw you and... I heard the way you spoke... and the words you said... and I couldn't believe you were real... and things haven't been amazing in my marriage lately... and I haven't seen my wife in months..." He was rationalizing with you... with the infidelity. "I... I've never met anyone like you."

"You lied to me."

"How was I supposed to tell you I was married, Y/N?" Cillian snapped at you, looking at you with fangs barred. "What was I supposed to say to you?"

"You didn't have to say anything," You sobbed. "You shouldn't have invited me to dinner... you shouldn't have even... you shouldn't have ever shown up to those reading sessions... you just shouldn't have gotten involved with me in the first place!"

"My wife doesn't have to know."

"That... doesn't make it any better," You bawled. "You have a woman... back in Ireland fucking waiting for you, and I'm here... thinking I'm falling in love with you while you fuck me over!"

"I'm sorry..." He whispered, defeated. "I'm so sorry."

Silence.

"Do you feel anything for me?" "Of course, I feel something for you, Y/N... you're-"

"Do you love me?" You corrected. "Could you say you truly and honestly love me?" "I..." He looked away at that. You scoffed and shook your head, wiping tears off your face. "I don't... I don't know... I just..." "What the fuck was going to happen between us?" You cried. "How was this going to end? This was always going to end tragically... wasn't it? Wasn't it, Cillian?"

"I didn't... I never thought about how I was going to end things... I go back home in December... filming ends in two weeks... I was going to spend the last few weeks with you..." You scoffed again loudly. "Aww... how sweet! Spend your last few days with your mistress, who's twenty years younger than you... and then fuck off back to Ireland and go be with your loving wife and your... oh god... you have kids, don't you?" "Yes... I..." "Fuck!" You screamed. It wasn't like you to be so angry. You weren't usually this loud. But the pain was just too much, and you needed some way to get the pent-up rage within you out. "So this is it... this is going to be the last time I'll ever see you."

"It doesn't have to be that way, love," Cillian whispered, placing a hand on your arm; this time, you let it stay there. The shame of having him touch you made you sob again. "We could... spend this last month together... we could... cherish what we have while we still have it." "What we have is gone," You replied. "It's gone! It's dead! You killed it! You can't even say you love me."

"What good would that do?" He pushed you further over the edge. "I mean... I could lie and say I love you... I could feed into your fantasies that this... this could last... but it's not..."

Those words 'I could lie and say I love you' echoed over and over again in your head.

"I know that!" You yelped.

There was a pause. The silence hanging heavy in the autumn air and your teardrops falling into your lap where your hands lay curled up. Cillian's thumb rubbed circles into your arm, and you only cried harder.

"Maybe... if we had been closer in age... maybe we would have... maybe we would have been fine." Cillian broke the silence with that banger. The words ringing in your ears, you didn't reply. You didn't utter a word. Those words made you want to die. A minute or two went past. You just ignored him, ignored the way his hand lit your skin on fire, and ignored the way his eyes bore holes into the side of your skull. "Y/N?"

"Take me home." You muttered.

"Y/N..." He whispered.

"Take me the fuck home, Cillian."

And so he did. He pulled out of the parking spot, and you spent the next hour in an agonizing silence. At some point, the tears stopped falling, and the stupidity sunk in. You felt stupid and ashamed. You had told everyone about him, how happy you were, how handsome and funny... and how sweet he was. And now you sat in the car of a man you felt like you didn't know.

"We're here, Y/N."

"Goodbye, Cillian."

"Please don't do this." He begged, you looked at him, and he had tears in his eyes. "Please." You sucked in a breath, his eyes pleaded with you, and you wanted to stay so badly... you wanted to give him one last kiss and say, 'I understand,' but you knew you couldn't. You were too heartbroken. It was going to end one way or another... and it might as well end now.

"Goodbye, Cillian." You said once more before stepping out of the car and walking off into your building. Never looking back to see the broken man in the car, crying just as hard as you did, loving you just as hard as you did him.

Three months went by. There wasn't a day where you didn't think of him. Not a day passed when you yearned for his touch and to feel him hold you again. You thought about dancing with him in the refrigerator light. You thought about his hand on your thigh as you drove upstate. The memories all too real and... all too there.

And tonight, as snow fell outside, you stood at that same podium, reading the poem you wrote for him. You could barely utter the words, your heart catching in your throat as you looked around the room and spoke the words written on the page.

"Just between us, I remember it all too well." You finished, and the room clapped, but the applause didn't matter. Your heart still felt just as broken as it did the day you left him.

And as you descended from the podium, people would pat you on the back and murmur praises for how well-written your poem was and how well-spoken you were. But your eyes were focused on the hazy figure outside the cafe, the silhouette all too familiar.

And it was wearing that same red scarf you had left behind.

And you knew it was him, watching you from afar. Loving you from a distance... remembering it the same way as you did...

All too well.

hope you enjoyed!! Sorry this was all over the place a bit but I really wanted to write something angsty... anyway... there are lots of little easter eggs and references to the song, did you pick them all up? Okay byeee!

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x reader #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy fanfic #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders

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mermaidgirl30 · 10 months ago

Text

✨Enchant Me Chapter 1: I Was Enchanted to Meet You✨

Series Masterlist

A/N: I want to thank that purple house for giving me this whole idea in the first place, but reader and Joel are so soft in this series I’m crying 🥹 Thank you to @mountainsandmayhem for listen to me babble my ideas and rant about how cute these two are in this series! We don’t have enough witchy, nature reader Joel fics, so thought I should make one ☺️✨🌙 Comments and reblogs are always appreciated, I always love hearing your feedback! 💜

Summary: Joel delivers a custom built table to a little house out in the middle of the woods, but he doesn’t realize he’s going to fall for the girl behind the doors of that small purple house. He falls head over heels for her special herbal tea, tarot card readings, and talks of nature and plants as he keeps going back to see her.

Pairing: Joel x fem! reader (Fic is in both reader and Joel’s POV)

Word Count: 7.7k

Rating: Explicit (18+ Only MDNI)

Tags: Soft Joel, lots of fluff, Joel falling in love, witchy reader, eventual smut in later chapters, plant and animal lover reader, lots of cute nicknames for reader

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

“My thoughts will echo your name, until I see you again. These are the words I held back, as I was leaving too soon. I was enchanted to meet you. Please don't be in love with someone else. Please don't have somebody waiting on you. Please don't be in love with someone else. Please don't have somebody waiting on you.”

- Taylor Swift “Enchanted”

The spring breeze of April rustles through Austin as green leaves blow gently down the street, light streaks of sunlight glistening in the open shop as Joel finishes the final touches on a lilac handmade wooden side table. Tiny, intricate white flowers he’d hand painted cover the lilac material. Joel had no idea who he was making it for, he only saw the order request in the computer on his list of custom orders. Tommy must’ve talked to that particular customer when Joel was in the back crafting something.

As Joel finishes the final touches on polishing the little table, he yells for Tommy to come over. “Hey, Tommy. Who’s this order for? I just got finished, guess I can go ahead and deliver it today since we aren’t too busy,” he says as he stands up with a huff, placing a hand on his lower back as he gets up from the rough ground.

“Ahh, that one is for this sweet girl that came in a couple weeks ago. Kinda shy, quiet, but sweet as pie. Pretty thing, too. She sure talked a lot about nature,” Tommy laughs as he grabs the thick white notebook and gets your contact information out, handing Joel the address and name of the customer who had bought it.

Joel looks at it carefully as his eyes scan the address. “She lives out in the middle of nowhere,” Joel says as his eyebrows knit together.

“Yeah, all the way in Cedar Lake. Not too far, but that’s definitely not in the city. It’s only twenty minutes from here though. So, you want me to take it? I don’t mind,” Tommy replies as he leans to grab the notebook. Joel brings it out of his reach and clutches it to his chest.

“Nah, I’m the one that made it so I’ll be the one delivering it.”

“Suit yourself,” Tommy scoffs as he holds his hands up. “Tell her I said hello, will ya?”

“Sure,” Joel says as he grabs the paper with your name and address on it and shoves it down in the denim pocket of his dark jeans. He rolls his blue flannel sleeves up to his elbows and exposes tanned skin as he grabs up the table and loads it in the back of his white Chevy truck.

Once he’s inside and has the engine revved up, he pulls away from Miller’s Woodshop Creations and heads down the street, toward the direction of a long, gravel road that will take him to your place.

Cedar and oak trees fill the last half of the drive while deer scurry off from grazing in the grass as soon as they see Joel’s truck. The houses get thinner in this area, only one or two spread out with acres of land behind them. Joel keeps driving through the thick of the green, eyes trained on the narrow road ahead of him.

“Now who lives all the way out here?” Joel asks himself as his GPS stops him right as he pulls up to a single house that’s surrounded entirely by the woods.

He puts his truck into park and turns off the engine, grabbing his keys and shoving them in his pocket. Just as he steps outside into the grass, a wild rabbit runs off into the opposite direction of him and a black raven caws and flies off into a tall cedar tree.

Whoever lives here must like animals a lot.

Joel carefully retrieves the furniture from the bed of his truck and grunts his way to the front door, making his way up the few wooden steps that lead him to the front door. When he sets the side table on the wooden porch, he takes in the outside of the house.

The house is painted a deep purple color with yellow wooden rails outlining the edge of the porch. All types of different floral plants of names he doesn’t know lines each side of the cobbled stone path that leads to the front of the house. Colorful stained glass windows are sprawled on the top windows as the bottom windows sit wide open for the warm breeze to seep into. It’s unique, a house like he’s never quite seen before. Now he needs to know who lives way out here in the middle of nowhere in a little purple house that’s stacked with plants.

He knocks on the sturdy purple door three times and stands back while he shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans, fidgeting with his fingers as he patiently waits. Before long, he hears the creak of the door opening and looks up to say his greeting.

“Hi, I’m from Miller’s Woodshop Creations and I came to…”

He stops when he takes in the sights of you as you open the door wide, stepping out onto the porch in a lilac colored sundress that goes down to the middle of your thighs, exposing long legs as the bodice hugs your hips perfectly. He gasps at the beautiful shades of your eyes. He’s never seen such beautiful eyes before, a color that reminds him of warm summer days and clover covered fields. Your hair is in soft curls, held back by a pink ribbon as you flash him a smile that can knock him down to his knees. He thinks you’re absolutely breathtaking. The most gorgeous thing he’s ever laid eyes on.

“Oh! My little table I ordered. I had no idea it was finished! Let me see it,” you say excitedly as he steps out of the way and lets you bend over to analyze the table.

You rake your fingers over the smooth, polished wood and carefully trace the edges of the hand painted white flowers that cover the surface of the table. It’s so beautiful, exactly what you were looking for when you placed the order. You were afraid they wouldn’t see the vision you were going for, but this was exactly what you wanted. It was perfect.

“This is incredible! Exactly what I pictured it to be. Who made this?” you ask incredibly as you hover over the top of the smooth wood.

“I did,” he says nervously behind you.

You drop your hands and push yourself off the porch, turning to take in the man who made this himself. “You made this?” you ask quietly.

“Mhm. Just finished it up today,” he answers, his eyes locking on yours as he nods his head up and down slowly.

“Oh, well it’s exactly what I wanted! It’s gorgeous, thank you.”

“No problem, sweetheart,” he says with a Southern accent that stops you in your tracks.

Sweetheart. You like the sound of that a lot.

“And you are?” you ask with a raised eyebrow, curiosity swirling in your eyes at the handsome gentleman who stands in front of you.

“Oh, sorry. My name’s Joel. Joel Miller.” He holds his arm out, waiting for you to take his hand patiently, his eyes flicking over yours carefully. You slowly place your hand in his and shake.

You almost gasp when you feel his calloused fingers close over yours. He feels like magic, like shooting sparks are flying in his soft brown eyes as he holds your hand in his. You’ve never had this reaction shaking a man’s hand before. This feels… different. The magic dies as soon as he drops his hand, and you almost reach for his hand again just to feel that buzzing sensation through your body that was there when his hand was in yours.

“Miller. Is Tommy Miller your brother?” you ask with a curious smile.

“Yes, ma’am. He helps me run the shop.”

“Oh, I see. Well, Joel, I’m glad it was you that brought this by for me today,” you smile gently, fluttering your long eyelashes up at him as he blushes and pushes a hand through his tousled curls nervously. You think he’s absolutely beautiful.

“It was no trouble. And your name? I didn’t catch your name, darlin’.”

Darlin’. There he goes again with the little nicknames. You wish he’d never stop. He could just keep going. He could call you anything he wanted to, and you’d let him. As long as he came back here again.

You tell him your name, and he repeats it like honey dripping off the tip of his tongue. It sounds beautiful the way he says it. Like sweet tea that simmers in your soul. It sounds all lilty and dreamy, and you decide then that you do want to see him again.

“That’s a pretty name,” he says softly as his lips curl up into a dreamy smile that almost takes your breath away.

“Oh, uh - thank you,” you smile in return.

You take in his full features now. See the way his eyes shine like caramel in the warm sun that glazes over them, see the dark brown flecks mix with warmer colors to make the prettiest soft brown eyes you’ve ever seen in your life. His skin is tan like gold, his broad shoulders filling out the blue button-up flannel shirt that presses firmly to his strong chest. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows as they expose thick veins that cascade down his arms to end in big, thick hands. Hands you’d like to hold on more than one occasion.

And his smile. God, his smile sends your insides spiraling. He’s so fucking beautiful, and you hope he’ll stay for tea. Maybe, just maybe he’ll want to try your famous hibiscus herbal tea.

Please, stay.

“Here, let me put this inside for you. It’s a little heavy, so don’t want you to try to lift it,” he says adamantly as he bends over and scoops up the little side table in his arms.

You open the door wide for him and watch him walk through the entrance as you point to your cream colored couch that sits up against the soft pastel purple colored walls. “Just right next to the couch will be fine, thank you,” you say as you watch his biceps cling to his flannel shirt, watching the way his back muscles pull against his shirt to expose thick muscles that you’d kill to run your fingers down.

He’s so gorgeous.

When he sets down the table on the dark wooden floor, he takes in your little living space. He examines your white shelf that holds purple orchids, different colored carnations, and potted hanging plants whose vines spill over the edges fluidly.

Next, he notices the windowsill that has amethyst and pink quartz crystals lined against the edge as a stack of flower tarot cards lay against the crystals. He takes in the bright colors of your kitchen as the sunlight beams through the open windows as robins chirp their melodious songs outside the window. Lavender and white tulips encase the edges of the light colored wooden countertop as it overflows with various herbs that stack neatly together.

The air smells dewy-fresh as the aroma of flowers and tea fill the air. You watch Joel take in his surroundings carefully and see his lips part open just slightly as he spins in a slow circle. You lean against the wooden countertop and rest your chin in the palm of your hand as you watch him dreamily. He’s just so handsome, so intriguing, so curious.

As he turns back your direction, you straighten up and try to act normal, but it’s so hard around him. So very hard. “You uh, you sure like flowers don’t ya?” he asks as you blush from the question.

“Is that a bad thing?” you ask nervously as he comes over and leans against the opposite side of the counter, staring up into your eyes as he gently smiles.

“No, s’not a bad thing. Just I haven’t seen a house quite like yours before. It’s very… unique what you’ve done to the place,” he says as his eyes skate across your lit up kitchen.

“Well, I’m a unique person,” you giggle out, letting the single pearl necklace bounce along your tan chest.

“I can see that,” he smiles as his eyes skate down your lilac sundress, gulping when you see him rake his eyes over your full breasts and down your curvy hips and smooth thighs. You suck in a breath when his warm eyes land back on yours as you watch the sunlight trickle warm golden colors against his gentle brown eyes.

He’s so fucking beautiful.

“Purple your favorite color?” he asks as he examines the soft colored walls in your kitchen.

“How could you tell?” you ask as a soft giggle echoes around the small living space.

“I’m good at observations,” he says with a smirk that pulls at the corners of his mouth.

Oh, this one is gonna be a tease. You just know it.

“You live out here alone?” he asks as he walks around the counter, dragging his finger along the wooden edges as he stares at the purple orchids that lay across your wide open kitchen window.

“Yeah, it’s just me and my flowers. Also, my cat, Oliver. He’s probably outside hunting mice or something,” you laugh.

“Ahh. I see.”

You watch the way he furrows his eyebrows at the flowers, looking at them as if he’s trying to figure out what they are. Somehow you think he doesn’t know a lot about plants. Maybe you could teach him.

“Orchids,” you say as you walk up next to him, laying your hand on the wooden counter as you place your eyes on the vibrant deep purple colors of the flowers.

“Huh?” he asks as turns around and faces you.

“These are orchids.” You nod your head to the lush flowers, and an understanding grunt comes from deep within his chest.

“Oh, I see. They’re pretty,” he says as he drops his hand back to the counter. His pinky finger drags along the side of yours, and you feel hot fire run through your fingertips.

You drop your hand and watch him take a step back, eyes melding into yours as the sunlight bursts through his brown irises. You can’t help but to fall for him right then. This man was going to make you pull out the tarot cards, see if love was in your near future. With him.

He shifts his weight and leans into the edge of the counter, contemplating his next actions. “Well, I guess I shouldn’t take up anymore of your time. It was nice to meet you,” he says as he starts to walk toward the front door.

You freeze, almost choke up as the words run dry in your throat. “Wait!” It comes off desperate, loud, and you think you just ruined your chances with him. He turns back around with his eyebrows raised, maybe even alarmed that you almost screamed at him.

“Tea? Do you like tea?” you ask, desperate for him to stay a little longer. You want him, need him to stay just a few more minutes. You want to get to know this man, maybe want to give him a tarot reading, if he wanted one.

“Tea? ‘Course I do. Why do you ask?” He knits his eyebrows together as if he’s concentrating a little too hard on you, and you gulp at the sight of those gorgeous flecks of brown staring back at you.

“Will you stay for tea? I just picked some fresh herbs from the garden, and it’s the least I can do for having you deliver my furniture for me. Please,” you say as you nod to your cream colored couch, asking him to sit while you prepare the tea.

He flicks his eyes over the smooth material of the couch and back at you as his eyes blaze into yours. “Sure, darlin’. I’d love to,” he says as he moves to the couch and sits down gently as his body presses against the soft material. You have to avert your eyes from his large thighs that pull against the dark material of his jeans.

He’s so fucking broad and muscular. He was going to get you into trouble if you were already practically drooling at his Southern charm and good looks.

You smile and get to work chopping up lavender and rosemary herbs as you mix them together with elderberries and hibiscus flowers while you pour almond milk and a dash of water together. Everyone loves your herbal teas, you just hoped Joel would, too.

“So, is this one of your specialities or somethin’? You sure do have a lot of herbs and teacups around,” he says as he assesses your china cabinet full of floral tea cups and fine china that you’ve been collecting for years. Call it a hobby or an addiction, but you’ve been making tea for as long as you can remember. That’s why you have your own tea shop just a few miles down the road. A business you’ve loved every since you got to open your little shop a few years ago.

“Something like that,” you giggle as you continue mixing the various ingredients together in a large glass pitcher. “I actually own my own little tea shop a few miles down the road. It’s called Starlight’s Corner.”

“Starlight’s Corner, huh? Strange, I’ve never heard of it. Where is it located?” he asks as he leans his elbows against his knees and places his hands under his chin, eyes focused on you. You try not to blush as he watches you mix together the tea, but you fail to no avail.

“It’s just off Fourth Street, right next to a little boutique. You can’t miss it.”

“Wait, that’s not too far from my shop. I guess I’ll have to come check it out sometime,” he says with a smile pulling at the corners of his lips. You can’t help but smile back at him.

“Yeah, guess you should.”

After mixing the ingredients together and throwing a dash of sugar in there, you pour two glasses of the floral sweet smelling tea and walk over to him slowly. You hand him a glass and when he takes it your fingers brush up against his, causing you to jolt your hand back as purple liquid splashes over the side of the cup and lands on top of Joel’s denim covered thigh.

You gasp and set your own drink down on the glass coffee table as you run to grab a towel from the kitchen. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to do that, really I’m so sorry,” you apologize hurriedly as you go back over and hand him the dark hand towel, your face beat red with embarrassment as you say sorry another five times.

“Darlin’, relax. It’s alright. It’s just a little spill. Nothing I can’t handle,” he says as he hushes you, circling his hand over your wrist as all worries seem to vanish at his soft touch.

Your breathing calms as you relax your shoulders, his fingers still pressed firmly around your wrist as you feel every single callous that covers his thick fingers. It’s soothing, relaxing, mind numbing as he stares up at you with those warm brown eyes of his, his chest rising and falling calmly as his other hand presses the towel to his damp thigh. And suddenly it’s like you’re in the middle of your lush garden outside, smelling the sweet scents of wildflowers and fresh air as you breathe in his mahogany scent. He smells like fresh wood and pine trees, a scent you could get completely lost in, drown in.

He suddenly drops his fingers from your skin, and it’s like you wake up from a trance. You want him to touch you again, you want to feel the flames that ignite your skin every time he traces his calloused fingers along your soft, silky skin. You want to know what he tastes like, what he sounds like if your lips ever pressed up against his soft, plush lips.

You shake your head out of your lovesick daze and grab your glass of tea as you go around to the other side of the couch and sit down next to him, just inches from your thigh meeting his. You watch him towel off the damp spot on his thigh, rubbing the material harshly as he calls it good and sits the now damp towel on the coffee table.

“Joel, again, I’m so sorry. Let me…”

He holds his large hand out and silences you as your voice stops cold. “Sweetheart, ya gotta stop aplogizin’. Really, it’s fine,” he presses as he goes to grab the half filled glass of tea. He grips it in his large hand and brings it close to his plush lips.

“I hope you like sweet tea,” you say before he takes a sip, hopeful that he won’t hate it.

“If it’s as sweet as you, I’m sure I’ll love it,” he smiles.

Your cheeks flush crimson as you take in the compliment and watch him bring the rim of his glass up to his lips, throwing back his head as you watch the hibiscus tea run slowly down his throat. You watch the way the liquid pulls at his lips, watch the way the veins in his neck bulge and flex as he drinks it down. You can’t help but lick your parched lips as you watch him gulp the liquid down. You wonder what it’d feel like to hang on his lips like that, wonder how it’d taste to run your tongue along his soft, inviting lips.

He tilts his head back up and sets the now almost empty glass back on the table as he licks his lips and smiles sweetly over at you. “Darlin’, how did I not know you had a tea shop so close to my store? This is the best tea I’ve ever had in my entire life,” he muses as you smile over at him in wonder.

“Really? You really liked it that much?” you ask with wide eyes glazing over his big brown eyes that you want to get lost in.

“Mhm. I mean it when I say that was the best glass of tea I’ve ever had,” he says as he nods his head. “Especially when it’s from a gorgeous girl like yourself,” he blushes.

Gorgeous? Oh. He called you gorgeous.

“Oh, stop,” you laugh as you stand and grab his glass up. “You want some more? I have plenty.”

“Absolutely,” he nods.

You pad your bare feet into the kitchen and find Oliver sitting at the edge of the window. His large green eyes hover over at Joel and his calico markings dance in the sunlight as he creeps into the kitchen and slowly makes his way over to Joel, inspecting the newcomer in his house.

“This must be Oliver?” Joel asks as he bends over and pets Oliver as he rubs against Joel’s leg. You giggle to yourself as that’s a sign Oliver likes someone. Looks like Joel is now welcome in his humble abode after all.

“Yep, that’s sweet Oliver. I think he likes you,” you giggle as you watch him scratch the clean fur on his back, hearing Oliver’s loud purrs echo into the open kitchen.

“Looks like it,” he chuckles out. The sound is so warm, inviting as it reverberates through his chest. It’s a sound you’d like to hear around here more often, a sound you could get used to fast.

“You have any pets, Joel?” you ask as you pour more delicious liquid into his glass and saunter back over to him, setting it on the table as to not spill anymore tea on him.

“Can’t say that I do. Never really was a cat person, but for some reason this one seems to like me,” he says as Oliver rubs up against his leg and jumps up into your lap the moment you sit down.

“Hmm, guess he has a good sense of judgement,” you wink at him, watching him nervously run a hand through his tousled dark curls. You want to run your hands through his curls, down his patchy beard that’s sprinkled with salt and pepper grey. He looks to be in his mid forties, an older man who you’d love to get to know better.

“How ummm, how old are you, sweetheart?” he asks as he drags his thick fingers through his patchy scruff, ending at his chin as he drops his hand gently back to his lap.

“Twenty-nine. And yourself?” you ask as you cock an eyebrow up at him.

“Forty-three,” he answers nervously as if to await a harsh judgement his way. You have no issue with an older man though. You wouldn’t even mind if he was your same age, you just wanted to know him. You were intrigued by his charm and creative hands.

“Forty-three, huh?” you ask as your eyes flick up and down him, memorizing his lean jaw and the way his fingers lightly flex in his lap when he has his eyes fixed on you. You were starting to read him well. He was nervous, maybe a little shy around the edges, but you definitely saw that he was nervous about his age. He shouldn’t be.

“Yeah, I’m an old man,” he jokes as his cheeks turn slightly pink from nerves.

“Nah, you’re definitely not old,” you confirm. “If you were old, you wouldn’t have been able to carry that table in for me,” you smile.

“Forty-three ain’t too old for ya?” he teases, but his eyes focus intently on you, needing to know he had a chance. And he definitely had a chance.

“No, it’s the perfect age,” you smile shyly.

He laughs and shakes his head, making a stray curl fall against his forehead. Without even thinking, you take your hand and push it back out of his eyes and feel just how silky smooth his hair really is.

His lips part open as you realize just how close to his face you are now, just a couple inches from his plush lips that probably taste of velvet. Your heart speeds up as you stare into his beautiful eyes, seeing every single golden brown fleck that glistens like galaxies in his eyes. You feel your hand drop to his chest, feel him lean forward as you inhale that woodsy scent that draws you to him. You’re so close, so close to a taste of heaven you so desperately want to reach.

When you realize just what you’re doing, you push back from him and put some distance in between the two of you as you catch your breath and come back down to reality. You almost kissed him. Why the fuck did you stop? You take a large drink of your tea and let the floral flavors float down your throat, hoping it’ll cool off your flushed cheeks as you feel fire burn through your core.

Get a hold of yourself. You just met this man.

Joel clears his throat and shifts his weight on the couch, grabbing his glass as he takes another generous gulp of the purple tea. Oliver sits across the room now and stares in between the two of you, meowing as even he feels the connection in the quiet room.

Joel clears the air as the heated moment disappears for the time being. “So, you’re a flower girl, huh?” he asks as his eyes gaze around the room at all your colorful hanging pots of flowers and plants that line the walls.

“How could you tell?” you ask with a flirtatious gleam in your smile.

“Oh, you know. Lucky guess,” he smirks as you feel your insides coat with warmth.

“Well, I’ll let you in on a little secret,” you giggle. “I have an entire garden out in the backyard, too. Actually, more like an enchanted forest, but you know. You’d have to see it to believe it.”

“Oh, yeah? You gonna show it to me?” he asks as a smile curls against his lips, making a dimple appear that nearly brings you to your knees. He’s so pretty that it hurts.

“If you want me to,” you say through long lashes that fan out for him.

He chuckles lightly and nods. “C’mon then. Show me,” he says as he stands and reaches for your hand. You’re hesitant at first, but he keeps it extended and nods down at his hand. “C’mon, sweetheart. I know you want to show me.” That’s all the encouragement you need.

You take his hand as he helps you up, feeling his calloused fingers close around yours as he pulls you off the velvety surface. He keeps his hand latched around yours until you make it to the back door, feeling a sigh escape your lips as his warmth leaves your hand the moment he drops his fingers from yours. His hand in yours felt so good, it felt right.

You slide on a pair or sandals and lead him down your back porch, past the flowing stone fountain where birds are sitting getting drinks and ruffling their feathers as they bathe in the cool water. You lead him down a winding stone path and watch as he follows close behind.

You trail your fingers on some tall standing cedar trees and push past a small field of sunflowers, watching as the golden finches hang on the flower stems and feed on the seeds. You look behind you and see Joel looking all around him as he takes in the sights of crowded red rose bushes and white tulips that sit side by side as their colors paint each other crimson and white.

“Where are you taking me?” he laughs as he follows close behind.

“You’ll see,” you smile back at him as you grab ahold of his wrist and whisk him to the left, nearing your favorite spot in the place you call your enchanted forest.

As you round a small corner and go through a vine wrapped awning, you pull him into the middle of a large circular field that has rows and rows of different colored wildflowers that scatter across the entire field. Beds of strawberries, grape vines, and all types of various herbs have their own raised beds. Lavender, white lilies, purple irises, and different types of carnations display every which was as the sound of the rushing stream that sits behind a forest of trees carries through the wind. This is home to you.

You spin around and find Joel looking dazed as he takes in his surroundings. He runs his large hands across the growing lavender as he lets his fingers dwindle on the green stems, looking carefully over everything that sits in front of him. He looks to be in awe.

“Welcome to my little place I call my enchanted forest,” you say as you continue staring at him as he slowly turns your direction, releasing his fingers from the lavender that sways slowly in the spring air.

“Did you grow all this?” he asks with wide eyes as you see a Monarch butterfly land softly on the side of his sleeve.

“I did. Took me a little over a year to get everything going, but I think it turned out nicely.”

You walk over in front of him and hold your finger out to the butterfly, watching it come to you as it crawls over your index finger, letting you hold it carefully in your hand as you smile and say hello to the beautiful butterfly.

“Beautiful creatures, aren’t they?” you smile, watching it flap its bright orange wings as it flies off in the direction of some pink wildflowers.

You turn slowly to Joel, and he’s just standing there staring at you as if he’s stuck in a trance. His golden brown eyes gaze into yours as his lips part just the slightest. “Yeah, they are,” he says quietly. But he’s not looking at the butterfly anymore, he’s looking at you. You feel your cheeks burn hot at the way he’s looking at you. He makes you feel so nervous yet so beautiful at the same time. It’s strange, really. Nothing you’ve experienced before.

“Did you know they’re the state insect of Texas?” you say proudly as you pick up a fallen lavender rose off the ground.

“No, I didn’t know that. Fascinating,” he says awestruck, his voice quiet again as his eyes never waver from yours.

You twirl the purple rose in your hand and smile down at it as your fingers brush over the soft, velvety petals. Lavender roses mean enchantment, wonder, and love at first sight. You can’t help but giggle to yourself as you walk over to Joel and slip the rose inside the pocket on his blue flannel shirt, accentuating his look as he looks down and runs his finger over the flower.

“You know, all roses have different meanings, depending on their color,” you say as you rock on your heels, your hands behind your back as you play with your fingers nervously.

“Oh, what’s this color mean?” he asks as he runs another finger over the soft petals.

“It means enchantment, wonder, and admiration,” you smile, leaving the love at first sight out as you feel the sun warm your rosy cheeks.

His eyes look up into yours as a small smile curls against his lips, his eyes lighting up like warm honey that you want to drown in. “Enchantment, is that right?” he asks as he takes a step closer to you, his leather boots meeting the edge of your open sandals as you suck in a breath.

“That’s right,” you say quietly, eyes never leaving his warm colored irises.

“Well, you sure enchanted me, sweetheart,” he smiles, his eyes staring straight into yours as you feel warmth overwhelm all your senses.

You enchanted him.

You break his gaze and look down shyly, unable to say anything to that sentence except just to blush and turn around so he doesn’t see the ridiculous smile that’s covering your face. Turns out he enchanted you, too.

“Come here, I want to show you something else,” you say as you lead him over to the large white trellis walls where blackberry vines trail along the ladder. You fill your hands with the deep colored blackberries and tell Joel to follow your lead.

He looks at you with knitted eyebrows as you tell him to be quiet and watch his step. You take him to the edge of the woods where the trees are thick and tall, a sea of green sprawled out in front of you as you click your tongue against the roof of your mouth, calling to the family of deer that usually greet you every evening.

“What are you doin’, darlin’?” he asks quietly as he leans up against the smooth bark of a tall cedar tree.

“Why don’t you take a look?” you smile as you nod your head in the direction of the woods. He straightens up as he watches the pack of deer walk cautiously out into the open as they gather around and greet you.

“Hey there, guys. You hungry?” you ask as you hold your hand out for them to come up to. They come all at once, their reddish-brown coats glistening in the sun as their long legs patter lightly against the green grass. Their wet noses kiss your skin as they eat the berries slowly out of the palm of your hand. You giggle as their wet noses tickle your skin.

Joel stares in wonder, his eyes focused on you as you laugh and smile as each of the deer take berries from your hand. He watches how happy you are as you reach out your open palm and stroke gently over their backs, amazed that wild deer allow you to touch them.

He watches how your eyes light up each time one of the females rub their head gently against the middle of your arm, watches the way you interact and speak to them as if they’re human themselves.

He’s smitten with your smile. That damn beautiful smile that takes the breath from his lungs. And God, he thinks he’s falling in love. He’s never seen someone quite like you before. You’re so soft, so gentle. Almost as if you’re a delicate rose yourself.

You catch him watching you with the daze of his warm eyes, a soft smile etching the corner of his mouth as he stares at you. It’s like he’s in a trance, and it makes you tingle with pure delight inside.

“Joel, come here,” you instruct as you nod your head and call him over.

“Oh, no I couldn’t,” he says timidly as he leans harder against the tree. You’re not letting him get off that easily.

“Joel, please. Just give me your hand.” You reach for him and take his hand in yours, leading him over carefully to the family of deer. He doesn’t pull his hand away, he just keeps his fingers tightly closed over yours.

“Here, wanna feed them?” you ask as you scatter some blackberries in his calloused hands. He slightly hesitates at first, but then he eases up as he holds his hand out and lets one of the females eat out of the palm of his hand. You watch him carefully as his face relaxes, his shoulders lowering as his hand lays flat with the berries inside them. Another deer comes over and starts grazing out of his hand, and you swear you see a little twinkle in his brown eyes.

“I think they like you,” you giggle, watching the way they crowd around him just like they do with you.

“I’ve never fed wild deer before. It’s… well, it’s…”

“Amazing.” You finish his sentence for him as he nods his head up and down.

“Exactly that,” he replies.

When the blackberries are gone, you gently take his hand in yours and reach his arm out, showing him how to pet them the right way so they’ll remember him and want to come back later. You keep your hand on top of his and guide it along the soft fur as one of the females lets you stroke the top of her head. You drop your hand from Joel’s and watch him still trail his hand up and down the deer’s side, seeing the way a soft smile spreads across his face.

“There you go. You’re a natural,” you beam as his honey eyes meet yours, sending a wave of bliss down your entire body.

He just shakes his head and chuckles out a deep laugh. “I swear, it’s like you’re Snow White. You’re really somethin’ special, aren’t ya?” he asks as his eyes sink into the pits of your soul.

Special. He thinks you’re special.

“Thank you for thinking that,” you giggle shyly. “I just know how to get in touch with nature. It’s one of my favorite places to be,” you say with a sing-song voice as you tilt your head and take in the splashes of warm sun against your skin.

Joel just watches dreamily as you close your eyes and take in the sun. He thinks you’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen, knows just how special you are. He thinks he knew the moment he laid his eyes on you.

When all the deer have left, you give him a tour of your grand garden, telling him all about your favorite flowers and take him down to the edge of the stream as little minnows swim around the middle of the clear water. When you start to lead him back to the house, he starts up light conversation again.

“You really are an expert on nature, aren’t ya? Anything from flowers to planting herbs to animals. You’re really quite somethin’,” he says mesmerized as he stops on the edge of the porch and lingers his hand next to yours, grazing his thumb lightly against the back of your hand as you feel the sparks light up like a million fireworks going off at once. It’s warm, feels safe, makes you feel alive as you trail your pinky finger against his. You want to dance in the flames, let the orange sparks ignite your soul as they take you down to devour you whole.

“You think so?” you smile, watching his honey glazed eyes trail over yours.

“Mhm. Just like a little garden fairy,” he teases as he traces his calloused fingers down your jawline slowly. “Gonna have to teach me more, enchantress,” he whispers as his fingers drop from your jawline, your face burning with desire as you beg to be touched by him again.

Enchantress. The word echoes through your mind as his Southern drawl crashes through your ears. Enchantress, you repeat back to yourself. He’s so sweet, just like the honey that swims in his captivating eyes.

“I’d like that,” you swallow as nerves build in your chest.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket and opens up a blank contact page on the lit up screen, handing it to you so you can type in your phone number. You take the phone from his hands and dance your fingers over the keyboard, putting a fairy emoji next to your name as you push save. You hand it back over to him as he slides it back into the pocket of his jeans.

The sun starts to set as colors of deep purple, bright orange, and dark pink paint the sky red as the sun slowly slips beneath the fluffy clouds. He rakes a hand through his tousled curls and nods your direction as he steps down the porch steps. You wish he’d stay for dinner, but you should probably let him get back home.

“It was nice meeting you, darlin’.” He says your name slowly as it drips off his tongue like sweet molasses, sending butterflies flitting through your stomach. “You gonna save some of that sweet tea for me next time?”

Next time. That means there will be a next time. Another day with Joel Miller sipping on your herbal tea as you teach him all about your favorite things. It sounds absolutely magical.

You smile gently at him and shake your head. “I’ll have a pitcher waiting for you,” you promise.

He chuckles as a smile splays against his gorgeous face, painting his eyes the color of hazelnut coffee. So fucking beautiful. “Alright, sweetheart. I’ll hold you to it.”

He turns and walks back to his Chevy truck, but before he makes it he turns around and gives you one more long, waning glance. His eyes full of admiration. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Goodnight,” you whisper back to him, letting the soft wind carry your voice over to him. He gives you one more lingering smile and then walks away. You watch him start the engine and watch as the his headlights disappear through the trees, down the gravel road that’ll lead him back home.

You turn and slide down your porch, leaning your elbows against the edge of your lilac dress as you let out the longest sigh you’ve ever breathed out of your mouth. Oliver comes up and brushes up against your hip, meowing as he stares up at the lingering dirt in the air from Joel’s truck.

“Yeah, Oliver, I think I like this one, too,” you sigh, daydreaming about the next time you’ll see those dreamy brown eyes of his again.

Joel lays in his bed that night, twirling the lavender colored rose between his fingers, inhaling the scent of fresh gardens, sweet smelling flowers, and you. He’s already memorized your exact smell. You smell like rose petals, lilacs, and sweet tea. It’s intoxicating, a fragrance he can’t seem to get out of his head.

And your smile. God, that sweet smile you give him makes him a weak man. He could never say no to you as long as you fluttered those long, dark eyelashes up at him as you flash him that beautiful smile. The one that makes his heart swell in his chest. He can’t wait to see you again. Just the thought of him pulling you in his arms with that form fitting lilac sundress sends chills down his spine. Joel Miller is not one to fall easily, but for you it might be as easy as putting one foot in front of the other.

He places the soft purple rose on his mahogany bedside table and takes a picture as his camera flashes over the rose. He pulls up your name and attaches the picture with a cute little message.

Please, don’t mess this up, Joel. She’s too perfect.

Your phone chimes on your cream painted nightstand, and you roll over in your queen sized bed, taking the lilac sheets with you as you reach for your iPhone. You see a number you don’t recognize on the lit up screen and slide the lock open. Your heart jolts as soon as you see the picture of the lavender rose on his nightstand, the words take your breath away. It’s him, Joel.

Joel: Thanks again for the rose, little enchantress.

You melt as you read the text over and over and over again. Little enchantress. The nickname nearly makes you fall out of bed with how sweet it is. You text him back a couple minutes later.

You: You’re so very welcome. You’re always welcome to come get some more. My garden is always open.

You end the text with a smiley face and a rose emoji, setting your phone back on the nightstand after pushing send and then hug the silky purple pillow to your chest.

He kept the rose you gave him. He kept the rose. He was thinking about you just like you were thinking about him.

You turn again in your silky lilac sheets and inhale the soft vanilla candles that burn in the corner of your room. The gentle breeze of night slips through your cracked window and blows the sheer white curtains to the side. Shadows dance across your lilac covered walls, and it almost looks like two people slow dancing in the moonlight. You pretend it’s you and Joel, dancing under the moonlight as he pulls you close and grazes his lips against yours, pretend his hands envelop yours as his calloused fingers graze the edges of your face.

You turn back around and close your eyes, wishing for dreams of dark eyes and tousled curls. Joel, Joel Joel. You were all his, all for the taking. He just needed to come sweep you off your feet, and you’d be his. You already knew, he was the one you wanted, the one you’d been wishing for for your entire life. He was the one.

Joel was the one.

Tags: (Please let me know if you do not want to be tagged. I figured you guys would want to read!) @joelalorian @joelmillersblog @vividispunk @tuquoquebrute @mountainsandmayhem @princesatracionera @blueseastorm @janaispunk @amyispxnk @bambisweethearts @vivian-pascal @strawberri-blonde @dugiioh @akah565 @ka-x-in @orcasoul @lotusbxtch @reddedmiller @r3dheadedwitch @pedrostories @jasminedragoon @msjarvis @littlevenicebitch69 @ezrasbirdie-main @cherrybombsxxx @thischarmingmandalorian @prettytulips @burntheedges @sweetercalypso @keylimebeag @casa-boiardi @vvitchesh3x @laurrrra

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scarlettohairdye · 9 months ago

Text

Home Ownership Was a Mistake

This is for @trickybonmot, who may or may not use some of these stories in a fic.

Okay. So.

In the year of our lord 2010, my wife and I were lucky enough to be gifted $20k by my parents, which in those days (given it was a historically low point for real estate prices in Seattle) was enough for a down payment on a house. It was an astounding confluence of luck and privilege that led to us being homeowners, because if they gave us the same money now it would go precisely nowhere.

Anyway, it was not enough money for a large house, or a fancy house. We looked at a lot of places, only some of which were move-in ready (and one of which was absolutely just a tear-down) and eventually settled on our current place, which is a 1910 bungalow with a detached garage that was finished and turned into a studio.

Was it the most aesthetically pleasing house when we bought it? No. The walls were white, the carpet was light beige, and the paint had seen better days. That said, it was move-in ready and the owner was pretty desperate to sell, so we took it!

The inspector let us know that some of the wiring was still the old knob-and-tube, so we'd want that updated sooner rather than later, but it looked pretty good. About half the outlets were grounded, so it didn't stop us from plugging in three-prong appliances. We just had to use more extension cords than maybe we'd prefer.

The Electrical

The first big house thing we paid for was to have the entire place rewired. Our circuit breaker was a mystery, we didn't have enough outlets, and we were tired of being stuck with specific layouts of our stuff due to the lack of grounded outlets. We were expecting about half the wiring to be up to code, and the rest would need an update.

Spoiler alert: HAHAHAHAHAHA.

The rewiring took about a week, and every morning the electrician sat down with us and told us what new fire trap he'd uncovered.

"Yeah, so the knob and tube wiring going to the lights in the ceiling? Knob and tube gets hot when it's running, and yours is under three layers of insulation."

"You know how you thought your outlets were grounded? They weren't, actually, the ground wire just went elsewhere into the house and wasn't connected to anything."

"So there's wiring in your crawlspace? Whoever put that in nailed some sheets of wood paneling over it, so we had to rip the wood paneling out to access it."

I think the job was about $15k when it was done, we had many many more outlets, and our house was no longer one bad day from lighting itself on fire. Victory, I guess?

The Studio Window

This was leaking a bit, and we knew it was leaking when we moved in. (South facing walls get all the weather in our region.) We were not handy enough to replace it ourselves at the time and we also didn't have money because I got laid off shortly after we bought the house and was making my living doing costume commissions. Solution: Trade costuming work to an acquaintance who did carpentry.

The window, we discovered, was not so much a finished window as it was a single sheet of glass sandwiched between some boards.

Badly.

The carpenter was not entirely she that she was qualified for the job, but she did manage to remove the single sheet of glass and replace it with a window that was insulated and actually capable of opening. She used caulk around it. It was way better than we had before. Maybe someday we'll have both studio windows replaced by a contractor who actually does windows, but this is not that day!

The Siding

The cedar shingles were no longer cutting it at a certain point, so we had the house resided. (Houses are money pits, in case you didn't know.) This was a $30k job (MONEY PIT!) and had several layers of badness.

Bad: Our house had no insulation. It was cedar shingles over the original siding, with nothing in between that original siding and our INTERIOR WALLS. There was occasionally a newspaper. Our PM asked if we wanted insulation? And we said yes, please!!! We did not have a lot of time to think about insulation or research the best type, so it's just sheets of the pink fiberglass stuff in there, but it exists and we have it now!

Worse: Underneath our laundry room was a horrorshow. The laundry room is an addition that was added to our house probably sometime in the 50s? And, uh...

Well, the siding guys pulled off the siding, took a look at what was under it, and immediately called the project manager. The project manager came out, took a look, and then called us. He said that the siding guys thought it really needed to be reinforced and stabilized before they re-sided it, which is very fair, because I think the people who built it originally were drunk when they did it. It was a fucking Wild West cowboy construction situation under there.

Yes, you heard that right: A LOAD-BEARING SHINGLE.

Our project manager also informed us that the siding guys couldn't do the reinforcement, because they're just siding guys. They don't do structural. This is very fair.

It also needed to be done by Monday so we could stay on schedule for the siding work.

We learned this on Friday.

I immediately called my general contractor dad and got his voicemail, because (I remembered belatedly) he was in Mexico getting dental surgery. There was absolutely no way we could get another contractor out to do the work over a single weekend.

It was up to us.

My wife and I (mostly my wife) went HAM on it. We rented big jacks from the tool library to prop the laundry room up while we replaced one of the entirely rotten support poles. One of the big telephone poles was so wrecked with dry rot we could kick it out of place. (It didn't even touch the BIG ROCK that was supposed to be its foundation!!! It was floating!!!) Several of the joists were also fucked, so we ran new joists alongside them and married them together. My wife dug holes while crouched in a 4' high space, filled the holes with gravel, compacted it by putting a piece of wood on top of it and hitting it with a mallet, and then installed an entire additional support system from 4x4s and deck blocks. She actually attached the support system TO THE FUCKING HOUSE, which was a big improvement from the way it was originally held on by vibes and paint.

Here's a tasty little before and after:

(Yeah, see how that visible joist at the front just... stops at the far left? There's a new joist right behind it now.)

This was completed with resounding cries of, "Good enough!" and "It's better than it was before!" The siding guys thought it was fine and sided over it. Someday hopefully we will be able to afford to tear the whole thing down and rebuild it with a properly poured foundation, but in the meantime the spin cycle on the washing machine no longer shakes the whole house. Victory?!

Ridiculous: The purple paint saga. My wife and I are lesbians who tend toward maximalism in our decoration style. Construction companies find this baffling. We paid extra to our siding company to get the extended color choices (if you order the siding with the color baked in it lasts longer, but you're limited to a particular range of colors) and spoiler alert: 90% of them are boring as fuck. We basically paid extra to have access to 400 shades of white and 400 more shades of beige. There were like three saturated colors in the whole book. Pathetic.

Anyway, we chose the one nice teal that was available and decided we'd paint the door purple, since all the purple colors were gray at best. The project manager then forgot to put in our order, and when he remembered he'd forgotten, ordering our siding through his company would have pushed back the start time by six weeks. We could still make the original start time if we ordered through a different company doing the same thing, though!

Me, immediately: And we wouldn't be restricted to your color palette, right? Him: Yeah, they can do custom colors. Me, slapping down a color card called "Fully Purple": MAKE IT PURPLE.

Bless this man, he went to the siding company and asked for Fully Purple. They told him they couldn't do that color, and also is he sure anyone wants this color? He called them on the phone and informed them yes, we did want that color, and also that he'd worked for them and he knew damn well they could do that color, they'd just have to custom mix it, so they needed to do their fucking jobs. Suitably chastened, they finally sent us a sample of the siding, and it was... okay. It was purple for sure, but a little de-saturated. Not the purple of our hearts.

I asked if they'd actually started manufacturing our siding yet or just sent the color sample. The project manager confirmed they hadn't, and if we ordered this imperfectly-purple siding now, it would be several weeks before we could get started.

"We're gonna paint," I decided, and our project manager put in the orders.

The paint store called him and said, "Hey, are you sure you want this color?" Yes, he assured them, that's the right color.

The guys doing the painting opened up the can and then called him and said, "Are you sure this color?" and he told them yes! They want that color!

At this point I told him he should just start responding with, "They're lesbians!!! Yes! They want the purple! They're lesbians!!!"

Eventually we cleared every hurdle god and the construction industry put in front of us, and now our house is Fully Purple.

It also has insulation, wiring that won't kill us, and a laundry room that hopefully won't collapse anytime soon. We got a heat pump installed that took shockingly little time and worked immediately, and our next project will be having the roof redone. Check back in to find out what fresh horror awaits us then! I think it'll be a second roof under our existing roof made of lead and asbestos tiles, probably!

#home improvement #it's a nightmare #choices were made #they were bad

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