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asfeline · 3 years ago

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Not Youɾ Midnight Love (pɑɾt 5)

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⇴Crédit : juju_sokei on Twt !

⇴ Part 4

⇴ All parts

⇴ Enjoy !

You could feel Geto’s gaze on your back and all you could do was to lower yours to meet neither his nor your roommate one.

- I just wanted to be a gentleman and accompany her to her place, Geto started putting his hand on your shoulder.

Even if you tried with all your might to resist, a shiver ran down your back and it was not invisible to Gojo.

- Don’t have this look man, he continued. I’m the most surprised to see you here and call this place yours. Since when did you move and without telling me on top of that?

He let go of your now rigid shoulder and entered the living room. You took advantage of this moment to slip away in the direction of your room. Gojo grabbed your arm, and you exchanged a long look. His was full of questions until he realized what you were wearing and who it belonged to. He looked down with concern to see that the top and shorts you had on were definitely not from your closet and looked up again to meet your eyes. This time his gaze was darker and showed no concern. Something else, yes... Something so dark that you wondered if you had all this time imagined his blue eyes.

- Let go… please… your murmured

He obeyed and went in the direction of his best friend, as if nothing happened. You glanced in your room before entering in. He was with someone less than two hours ago; it doesn't hurt to check if there is anything suspicious. Clutter, clothes, or a person.

Everything was clean, though. Nothing out of ordinary and everything at its place. Maybe he wasn’t that shameless and wouldn’t do it in your bed after all. The couch. Ew.

You started to put on clothes, this time yours, and carefully folded Geto's.

- How come you are the one to be with her? Gojo asked his friend

- She was at the Café and one thing lend to another and I find myself at your place. I have so many questions bro. Why are you crashing here when you could be anywhere, like at my place?

- It’s too far from Uni and you know that, Geto answered taking two beers from the fridge. Look how many times you are late, I can’t do that to my fans.

- Your what? He laughed refusing the beer with a quick gest.

Gojo insisted placing it on his forearm.

- Nah, thank you though. I know how it goes, if I start with one, I won’t be able to stop and I’ll end up as a deadass on your or her couch.

- It’s ours!

- Look at you, talking like a married couple.

- Nahhhh… far from it. She’s just sweet enough to let me crash here and letting me some time to adjust.

- How did you know her except for the fact that she's your neighbor? I mean, you could have ended up at the old folks' home on the 7th floor.

- Yeah I hesitated but we had a funny introduction and I thought she could do it.

- Do it? What’s so special about her?

What’s so special about you? Gojo crashed onto the couch and let a big sigh escape. He closed his eyes for a second. He didn’t know what he meant by that. When he was imagining his future, he was always the one ending up with a blurry face girl at his side. But since you came into his life, not long ago, he could picture something else, something great. Not specially a lover thing since he didn’t know what love feels like but yeah… if you were around in his future, as much you are now, he could be excited of what to comes.

- Yeah, forget it, she was here at the right time, and she’s pretty nice so you know.

He slurped his beer faster, as if it could drown the words, the lie, he just spurted. That day he waited for you to come. He waited that you would turn around the corner of your hallway to ask about this roommate adventure. He was right. You were special. Special enough.

- Do you think that your cohabitation does not bother her too much? Geto asked.

- I still have the keys, right? Gojo answered picking them out of his back pocket.

He kept them in the air for a few seconds, letting them hang and spin around. He should buy a key chain to decorate them, maybe one for you too. He tossed them before catching them in a firm grip and kissed the slightly protruding key tip.

- Why was she wearing your clothes Geto? He suddenly asked out of the blue.

Geto turned to his friend and leaned on the bar that separated your kitchen from your living room.

- This is actually a funny story… he started but you opened the door of your room at the same time, making Geto and Gojo stand up straight.

- Wow… so formal for me… you said on a sarcastic tone.

You approached Geto and gave him his now folded clothes.

- Thank you for everything… and for… you glanced a Gojo before stopping.

He suddenly felt out of place and went in the kitchen to throw the empty beer bottle. He was at his place right so why did he felt that way? Geto smiled gently and went to the door, you on his steps, as if you didn’t want to be lost in the night. He turned to you before you could continue your sentence.

- Yes, thank you for everything and for not judging me about all this and my presence at the café earlier.

- Well, if we remember correctly, I did judge. For a second though.

- You did indeed, you laughed.

He took his short and put them in his sport bag and kept the shirt in his hands before giving back to you. You shook your head trying to understand.

- Do you think I sweated that much that you want me to clean it?

He chuckled.

- No seriously won’t you need it tomorrow if you have a match?

- I can find a T-Shirt for that. But maybe I just want another reason to come back. Here.

Oops. What was that? Your heart did something you didn’t want to hear nor feel.

- Well, you have Gojo, so you could always come to meet him.

- And you?

- Me?

He nodded.

- What for?

- Because I need to get back my T-Shirt, he said ending the conversation by opening the door and letting a small “bye-bye” go in the wind.

You hold the T-Shirt tightly.

You took the few minutes in your shower to think about the day you just had. Was it that bad that you could only think about him and about the reason he wanted to meet you again?

You closed the curtains of your room and let the steam from the bathroom escape into the room. Without really knowing why, you took Geto’s shirt and put it on your skin fresh from the shower. It was slightly larger than you, barely covering the beginning of your thighs. You tugged slightly and looked at yourself in your mirror until you really realized what you were doing. Ew, what was that behavior that possessed you? You didn't have time to answer when heavy "Bam" sounds were heard on your bedroom door.

- Bathroom free?? Gojo shouted from the other side.

You hurriedly opened the door to erase the thoughts that were running around in your head.

- Yes, yes, sorry.

Your hair was still dripping on your shoulders and you tried to push past him into the living room. The music playing in the background was one you kept hearing lately on the radio.

"Save your tears for another day”

Several empty bottles of beer were sitting on the coffee table in the living room.

- YO! You shouted out, realizing that this was clearly too much for one person to handle in one evening. You could have waited for me, I wouldn't have said no... you mumbled.

No one answered you. Were you talking to yourself, and he was already in the bathroom?

♫ I don't know why I run away I'll make you cry when I run away♫

You opened the fridge, only to see that there were no bottles left. Selfish buffoon you laughed. You slammed the fridge door, making it shake, before turning around to find yourself face to face with the last full bottle in the apartment held in a hand as white as snow.

-Wow! you scared me! you cried out, seeing Gojo inches away from you. Do you want to give it to me after all? you asked, reaching for the bottle.

He pushed it away from you to prevent you from reaching it.

- What are you playing at? you asked impatiently, still holding out your hand.

-What are you playing at?" he asked in a slightly aggressive tone.

You could feel the tension building between you and him, and your mother has always told you that when things start to escalate it's best to leave to avoid making things worse. At least, that's what she used to tell you about her and your father, but here you were up against a wall. Your kitchen was narrow, so Gojo's back was a door you couldn't get past.

-Gojo?

The silence was still as heavy as ever. He placed his bottle on the bar, causing it to wobble before spilling onto the counter, leaving the foam to collect on the edge.

-Gojo! you cried out. I've got a deposit for this kind of thing!

He grabbed your arm and looked at you.

-Why are you wearing his top when you just met him?

-That? you said avoiding him and keeping your gaze on the bottle that was letting its bubbles escape leaving crackling noises in the kitchen.

- Remove it, he ordered you.

- Yes, I'll do it, don't worry, I don't know what's gotten into my head...

- Now

-Yes, so let me pass.

- No here.

This time you couldn't help but look him straight in the eye. Was he serious?

- Don't mess with me.

- Now, he continued, pulling your arm a little closer to him.

You tried to resist but his grip was firm.

As the inches shrank between you, his free hand wandered over to his best friend's shirt with the number 1 on the back. He certainly wouldn't be number 1 for you, would he?

♫"You could've asked me why I broke your heart

You could've told me that you fell apart"♫

-Gojo?

Your voice echoed in his head. Like the question Geto had asked him earlier. What was so special about you? and without realizing it his hand slipped under the shirt and he could feel all your muscles stiffen. He felt the fingernails of your hand, still trapped in his grip, digging into your palm. Your breath quickened and he was mesmerized by the rhythm of your chest rising and falling. His hand continued its path and your legs lost their support. He caught you by the small of your back and let you slide down to the icy kitchen floor. Your now half-bare body shivered at the difference between your skin that couldn't help but warm up and the cold floor. Maybe as cold as the gesture he had on you. Like a robot. His caresses did not transmit tenderness. The number 1 ended up on the floor and you couldn't help but cover your private parts.

♫"Take me back 'cause I wanna stay

Save your tears for another

Save your tears for another day

Save your tears for another day"♫

Your look transmitted your concern, yet you couldn't say the word stop. Gojo placed his lips on your belly button and began to apply small hickeys. Your voice echoed against the tile floor and your heartbeat was now so loud that the whole neighborhood could hear it. He stroked your leg and his hair tickled the middle of your belly. You tried to curl up but he wouldn't let you.

♫"So, I made you think that I would always stay

I said some things that I should never say

Yeah, I broke your heart like someone did to mine

And now you won't love me for a second time"♫

Not like that. His gestures were not gentle. They were imitating each other. He didn't want you, he was just seeing another one. You didn't want to be a midnght love. Not like that. His lips, wet with the beer he had just drunk, caressed the hollow between your breasts and you hiccupped with surprise. Not like that. Little beads of tears gathered on the corner of your eye before rolling down in rhythm with the music in the background.

♫"Girl, take me back 'cause I wanna stay

Save your tears for another"♫

His hand went to the side of your cheek and turned your face towards him. His eyes locked on yours and his pupils widened when he saw your face.

- Not like that, Gojo, not like that, please... you let your trembling voice say.

♫"I realize that I'm much too late

And you deserve someone better

Save your tears for another day

Save your tears for another day"♫

Gojo stood up in a second, slowly realizing what he had done. He took off his shirt and slipped it around your head before pulling it down your body.

- I'm sorry.

He hid the parts you were trying to protect.

-I'm sorry, he continued.

He took the number 1 from the floor and carried it under his arm, put on his shoes, and left the apartment.

You found yourself alone, still on the floor in the apartment that had long been plunged into the darkness of the night.

♫"Save your tears for another day

Save your tears for another day

Save your tears for another day"♫

Gojo walked quickly down the street to escape from the scene he had just committed. He wanted to call himself names. He felt his pockets of his jogging suit and did not feel the keys of the apartment. He turned his head abruptly towards the apartment, hair in the wind hitting his face. Did he still have the right to keep them?

Thank you for reading!

Part 6 here

#anime #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #jjk smut #geto suguru #smut #gojo x reader #gojo jjk #gojo x oc #gojou satoru x reader #gojo fanart #gojou satoru x you #gojo x you #gojo saturo #jujustu kaisen

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lokidiabolus · 4 years ago

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The Deal - Chapter 2

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel (web series)

Pairing: Alastor / Angel Dust

Warnings: human!Angel Dust (Anthony), Deal with a devil AU

Summary: Sometimes you had nobody to spend the Christmas with. Sometimes you didn’t want to. Sometimes you took a chalk and drew a pentagram on the floor fully ready to deal with anything that would come out as an alternative to self-pity occurring otherwise.

The time when Anthony thought if he can’t get anybody to love him properly, he can just make a deal with a devil and find out what affection feels like. Alastor thinks this mortal is pitiful beyond belief and concede. Cuddles happen.

Can be found on Ao3.

Notes: I think Cajun Alastor is wonderful but for the love of god I can't write that shit, so I apologize in advance. Please pretend it's readable.

Unbetad!

2020, January 16th

“Mamaaa, just killed a man. Put a gun against his head, pulled my trigger, now he’s dead~.”

Alastor raised his head from a book he snatched from Anthony’s poor excuse of a collection and narrowed his eyes. Anthony could see him in the corner of his eye, even though the demon excused himself to the living room because Anthony insisted on playing his music and not Alastor’s radio, and he couldn’t help it was Nicki Minaj for the first three songs. He even put it on shuffle too!

I’ve already died once, don’t need to repeat the experience, Alastor rudely scoffed at Anthony’s phone and left the room, even though he was bragging just night before he’d totally help with cooking. He didn’t even touch the knife before storming out rather than listen to anything modern.

“Mama, life had just begun, but now I've gone and thrown it all away. Mama, ooh, didn't mean to make you cry~,” Anthony singsonged with the melody while grating cheese and could literally feel Alastor’s eyes stabbing the back of his head. Probably not a fan of Queen either.

“If I'm not back again this time tomorrow, carry on, carry on as if nothing really matters~,” he twirled around the counter to get plates out of cupboard, “Too late, my time has come, sends shivers down my spine, body's aching all the time. Goodbye everybody, I've got to go, gotta leave you all behind and face the truth~.”

He made a pirouette and his voice skipped an octave when he almost crashed into Alastor suddenly standing in front of him, right in Anthony’s personal bubble, just looming (which was strange he could, since he was half a head shorter than Anthony, yet it couldn’t be described otherwise). He didn’t say anything, just watched Anthony handle the plates clumsily until the human finally managed to put them on the counter without incident.

“See something you like?” Anthony batted his eyelashes while making a pose with pursed lips and Alastor looked him up and down and smirked:

“Not really.”

“Ouch.”

“What is this song about?” the demon ignored him and nodded towards the phone in the middle of Bohemian Rhapsody, surprisingly sounding curious instead of displeased like before (but alright, it was fair of him to be put off when Anaconda was the first thing he heard, Anthony didn’t blame him).

“Don’t have Freddie in hell?” Anthony chuckled and returned back to filling the plates with Carbonara. It wasn’t like he wanted to fall into an Italian household stereotype but Alastor seemed to like Italian cuisine and it was something Anthony was confident in anyway. Also the praise was always a pretty nice bonus and Anthony might have been fishing for it a little bit.

“Not that I know of,” Alastor hummed. “So what is it about? Murder?”

“I mean… I guess? Sorta?” Anthony shrugged and pushed a plate of steaming food into Alastor’s hands, then gestured towards the table. “Should be about a man who accidentally killed somebody and then sold his soul to the devil.”

“How intriguing!” Of course Alastor would like that topic, grinning like a loon. “You knew the lyrics by heart.”

“It’s a famous song,” Anthony stuck out his tongue. “Everybody knows the lyrics. It’s like an anthem, ya know. Great song.”

“Likeable,” the demon admitted and sat at the table while Anthony handed him a fork and a spoon. “Thank you, dear. Looks splendid as always.”

“I try,” Anthony beamed while sitting down as well. “Oh. Actually, what if I killed somebody too, like, in the future-,”

“Now that would be an adventure, would it not?” Alastor interrupted him with even a wider smile, while the invisible audience cheered, like the idea of murder appealed to him. Why wouldn’t it, as a demon of course he wouldn’t go ew, don’t.

“I’m too pretty for jail, ya know,” Anthony gave him an unamused glare. Alastor hummed in agreement and started eating, his eyes lighting up happily. For a hell person he sure was such a foodie.

“Aww, so you think I’m pretty?” Anthony cooed at him and Alastor glared. It was a thing with this guy – he handled flirtations very badly. Either he got angry or super frustrated, and the latter was honestly so adorable Anthony risked the wrath too often for his own good. “So, what do you like about me?”

“When you don’t talk.” Came a curt reply and Anthony snorted and let him get off the hook.

“What I meant was – what if I killed somebody but didn’t want to go to jail. And wanted to make a deal with you about keeping me safe from them? Would it work?”

“Why wouldn’t it work?” Alastor glanced at him from the food. “Safety is nothing difficult to achieve.”

“I mean,” Anthony leaned against his palm. “We already made a deal. Can you make two deals with the same person?”

“I can make as many deals as I want with the same person,” Alastor answered while twirling his fork in spaghetti. “Why would you think I could not?”

“Not that ya couldn’t but… more like it’s not worth it for ya anymore, right?” Anthony suggested and it seemed like he made an interesting point, since Alastor stopped eating to fully concentrate on the problem. “As in, ya already have my soul-,”

“Heart.”

“And undying love, of course,” Anthony winked at him, earning an eyeroll. Fair. “But another deal would not give ya anything else. Ya already have what ya wanted.”

“Oh, indeed,” the demon nodded thoughtfully. “Obviously true. It depends on the individual. Some demons can take years off the remaining life of the mortal, or actually only state the remaining years for their service, then come collect the life once the time is up.”

“Like they give ya an amazing painting skill, but you have… ten years to live and enjoy the fame?” Anthony prompted and Alastor nodded in agreement. “That sounds… pretty rough. Why would anybody take that?”

“Why would anybody do anything? Mortals are greedy. They want to be acknowledged. Or they fight sheer, absolute boredom and want to elevate it by any means necessary,” the demon tapped his claws against the table in quick staccato. “You think it is not worth it?”

“I mean maybe when I’m fifty, sure, ten years sounds fine,” Anthony shrugged. “But ten years from now? I guess I’d be bummed.��

“Maybe you are not thinking big enough,” Alastor gave him a wide smile. “Not all demons take remaining life force though. Everybody has different methods if necessary. Though the heart is usually a priority.”

“Not for everybody though?”

“Some don’t want underlings,” the demon opposed. “Some only work for Hell itself and don’t take anything, only assure the soul will belong to Hell once the mortal die. Some actually feed on the life force of humans. Hell is having all kind of horrors you can think of, you see.”

“At least yer a daydream,” Anthony winked and Alastor’s smile twitched. Easy. “Building your own harem down there, ya kinky bastard.”

“And here I thought we’re having a meaningful conversation,” the demon sighed and returned to the food, which made Anthony snicker.

“I mean… what do I know, it could be,” he teased him. “What else would ya need some poor bastard’s hearts to do your bidding?”

“To tell them when they need to close their pretty mouths shut if they want to keep them,” Alastor smiled at him sweetly, his crimson eyes shining, and alright, okay, threats on Thursday evening were a thing now. Anthony imitated a zipper on his mouth and quieted down, but still, it was kind of hilarious. Maybe a week ago he’d still be afraid of Alastor pouncing at over the table and slashing his throat but now it was more like no talk, I’m angy sort of meme.

The silence didn’t last very long when Alastor set the fork down and looked at Anthony with curiosity.

“You are full of vigour today,” he observed. “Something good happened? You seem to be in jolly mood.”

“Just glad ya could make it,” Anthony grinned. Alastor became very reliable when it came to the dinner dates and weekend plans after the New Year’s fiasco, never missed one when he promised to come. They found a certain rhythm in the cohabitation and Anthony got used to his presence maybe a little too fast. The man was an enigma with the way he behaved – they slept huddled together no problem, Alastor could be super clingy when he wanted to (rarely though, usually more like only when somehow too tired), but once they were out of the bedroom, any contact was met with stiffness or a five foot rule. The latter became a thing about a week after New Year’s thanks to Anthony’s inability to keep his hands to himself when it came to Alastor’s fluffiness. The hair, the ears and the tail that wagged when he liked something enough, which obviously couldn’t leave Anthony calm, right? A damn cute fluffy wagging tail just… there, for touching.

Well, Alastor wasn’t amused, not by a long shot. The moment Anthony gathered enough courage and touched the thing, the edge of Alastor’s microphone was pushing against his chest to keep him away, and he would have sworn there were creepy symbols flying all around the demon’s head like he was ready to let Anthony get swallowed by some Eldritch monster. Therefore five foot rule became a thing unless it was Alastor who initiated the touch – which was another weird thing about the man. He had no respect for personal space whatsoever, like at all, when he wanted to point out something, make a statement or just felt like it, but once somebody else breached his personal bubble, he bristled like a cat with murderous intent. So Anthony kept his hands to himself but started flirting. Honestly kind of expected a five words rule to happen at some point, but until then he just wanted to have his fun.

“I see,” Alastor watched him carefully and then picked the fork again. “And here I thought you won a lottery or maybe fell in love.”

“Yer the only love of my life, don’t ya worry,” Anthony winked because he could and Alastor let out a sigh that honestly didn’t even sound that fed up, more like just out of habit. “But like. It’s kinda convenient. If somebody confessed to me, that is.”

“Oh?” Alastor’s eyes were sharp.

“My heart belongs to another!” Anthony stated dramatically and then let out a small laugh. “Not even lying? Like. My heart is taken, literally, by the deal we made, it would be like an ultimate move.”

The demon seemed to ponder it, then said nothing. Probably didn’t want to rain on Anthony’s parade on shutting him down needlessly. Naturally, Anthony didn’t think any romance was possible, or even vaguely interesting for the demon, so all his jabs were good-natured but without seriousness.

Or almost all of them. He would be lying if he didn’t admit at least to himself he liked Alastor as a person, not only as a convenient body pillow with Bambi tail he didn’t even let him touch. But such thoughts were private, and he kept them hidden and locked inside of his mind. He learned well enough not to hope to protect himself, and the only relationship there could be was a master and an underling – eventually. Once Anthony die.

Though… who knew when he was going to die. Was Alastor willing to do this his whole life? What if he was going to live to 80? Was he going to cuddle with him and eat dinners every three days in a week for 49 years?

But then again… what is time for a demon? He didn’t even know how old Alastor was. By appearance he’d say maybe around Anthony’s age, but then again, he was never half deer so… could be different. Did deer age count the same as dogs?

“If you ever needed an excuse for that kind of thing,” Alastor suddenly spoke, his voice staticky as always, a weirdly comforting noise lately. “I would recommend saying your husband has a wide collection of knives. It usually scares people away.”

“Pfff.” Husband. “Would need a ring for that, ya know.”

“Mhm,” the demon hummed, not adding anything else. Seriously. He just kept leaving so many openings, there was no way Anthony would not use those when he had a chance.

“So how many knives you have, husband?” he sent him a bright smile and Alastor carefully twirled carbonara on his fork before putting it to his mouth primly, chewed and then gulped down, as a show of how not amusing the jab was, Anthony thought.

Then, after another moment: “About twelve.”

Anthony made a croaking noise and completely missed a smile Alastor hid with another bite of food.

***

“Anthony.”

“Mmmm?”

The clock showed 1 in the morning and Anthony couldn’t fall asleep, no matter how hard he cuddled Alastor under the blanket. He tossed and turned and Alastor had to pull him back to him about ten times, but sleep eluded them both, even with the white noise of Alastor’s static floating around that usually lulled Anthony well enough.

“Can you play the murder song again,” Alastor requested from under Anthony’s weight, sprawled around the middle of the bed.

“Hah, sure,” the human reached for his phone resting on the nightstand and almost blinded himself when the display lit up. He clicked few times until Bohemian Rhapsody broke the silence of the otherwise quiet flat before returning back to lie on top of his demon.

“Sing with it too?” another request and Anthony prompted his chin on Alastor’s chest.

“Can’t sleep either?”

“You keep tossing and turning,” Alastor said simply. “Not me. Sing?”

Anthony raised an eyebrow, but there was no reasoning for the request, so he just softly sang along with the music, looking at Alastor with half lidded eyes until he couldn’t hold them open anymore. The song eventually ended, and Anthony finally felt sleep tugging on his consciousness like he just performed a lullaby that worked a bit too well.

“You asked about more deals for one person before,” he distantly felt a hand going through his hair and only hummed. “For you, my dear, I would close more deals if you ever asked me.”

“Aww,” he chuckled sleepily, his arms circling Alastor’s torso with possessiveness.

“The happier you are,” he heard, “the better your psyche becomes. The stronger the demon you’d be down there.”

“Boo, how cold,” Anthony pouted. “And here I thought ya actually liked me, at least a little.”

“You are… tolerable.” Anthony missed the small smile playing on Alastor’s lips, his face buried in the man’s red shirt. “But I am a professional, you see.”

“A professional dealmaker,” he yawned.

“Quite so.”

“Ya have that in your resume too?” Anthony couldn’t stop the tease. “Ya know, next to professional cuddler?”

“Probably as much as you have an immense tease in yours,” the demon uttered and his voice was thundering in his chest, which was weird, because it sounded like a completely different person without the static echo. Anthony liked it though.

“Sure, but also a good cook,” the human chuckled, “and a quality wife, ya see.”

A hum, then silence. Anthony considered the conversation closed, until Alastor spoke again softly: “There are always ways to get something in return for another deal, beside the servitude or life force.”

“Mmmlikewhat.”

“Why don’t you find out yourself?”

And with that Anthony fell asleep before any kind of dirty joke could come out.

***

2020, January 17th

It stayed in his head the whole next day. He kept thinking about it at home when getting ready to go out, then at work when taking orders and wondered, if a favourite dish made for dinner would be a possible kind of payment for the deal in Alastor’s book. What a demon like him could possibly want beside the heart he already got? He knew Alastor enjoyed good food, but was that actually something that could be exchanged for a supernatural request?

Or was it something kinky, like that in hell the only title Anthony would be able to use when talking to him would be Master? Or My Lord? Anthony could see himself do that, sure, though only in a joke to rile him up a little.

Funny how any fear of the guy went down the drain after the Bambi revelation, no matter how scary Alastor tried to be sometimes.

“Love, this is the third time you messed up an order, are you okay?” his colleague patted his shoulder and he blinked at her in confusion.

“Oh shit, did I?” he realized, after a long loading screen in his brain completed, what she just said and snapped back to reality where the demon in red didn’t bat his eyelashes at him. Not that he ever did. But he could dream. “I’m so sorry, my mind is in a gutter.”

“Yeah, can see that,” the girl patted his arm this time. He wasn’t sure why she was so touchy-feely all of sudden, but didn’t comment on it. “Something on your mind?”

“Weekend plans,” he shrugged and well, he wasn’t even lying, really. This was their weekend together and since Alastor didn’t mention any kind of obstacle in attending, it was Anthony’s turn to think of something to do. The forecast looked glum though, so going outside was probably not the best choice of outing, unless it would be short, so indoors activity sounded a little more satisfying. Maybe they could order some good food home, rather than cook this time. Or drink. Oooh, they could actually drink! He wondered if Alastor even liked alcohol.

“Man, Tony, are you in love or something?” the girl sighed, snapping her fingers in front of him. “You keep spacing out!”

“Well,” he glanced at her with a grin. “My heart has definitely been taken-,”

“In which gangbang this time?” another colleague cut in, smiling at him with fake sweetness while putting empty glasses in the sink with a loud thud. He didn’t even see her coming. “Did they pay you enough to buy you completely? Or just a quickie outside like always?”

Ouch.

“Don’t be salty just because nobody would fuck you even for free,” he cocked his hips. “Heard duster is good for cobwebs though.”

“Whatever you say, slut,” she made a face at him. “I’m not being the one spreading STD.”

“Good at spreading bullshit though,” he shot back, making her give him an uptight smile and a smack of her ponytail when she dramatically turned away and left for the kitchen. He decided not to comment on that and was kind of glad the other girl kept her mouth shut too.

Obviously, everybody at work knew about the New Year’s and his fall from grace – though that would indicate there was grace to begin with, which honestly was not. Maybe he should start looking for another job with how bleak things looked in this pub. The whole week after New Year’s random guys kept making pass at him even in his regular waiter clothes, like somebody just decided to advertise the pub as fuck-to-go eatery and it made his skin itch, especially when some of them were more handsy than others and didn’t understand no sent their way. A slap on his butt there, a grope here, hey cutie called from another table, and the girls he worked with either glared at him or had nasty remarks he should have already been able to deflect, but sometimes he just could not. He wasn’t made of sugar, some bad words and pointed fingers didn’t make him cry, but they didn’t add to good mood either.

He was always relieved if that evening Al showed up and took his worries away with the well-known staticky voice and invisible audience cheering at some of his bad dad jokes. Honestly, he had lots of bad dad jokes it was almost unreal, and the saddest thing was he unironically liked them while Anthony groaned every time he told some. He was just glad so far Alastor didn’t use those cringe worthy abominations against the flirting, because that would definitely shut Anthony down fast.

There were still four hours to his shift and for the first time since he knew Alastor he regretted the demon didn’t have a phone, so he could hear his voice while he locked himself in the bathroom stall with knees under his chin and quivering lip.

***

Anthony still didn’t know what to do over the weekend. It felt like he should have a plan, like there should be a diary or something, with post-it notes and differently coloured entries, but all he could do when he got back home was to sag down in the living room like a bag of potatoes on the couch and open a bottle of tequila. No limes, no salt, just the bottle and big gulps of it. He chugged it several times until the annoying tightness in his chest slowly eased off, until he could breathe normally and the bitter words he heard every time he turned his back towards the bar dissolved in burning taste of alcohol.

Who cared. People were mean and greedy, and he was broken and rotten to the core. Those things usually never combined well together, and he was a living proof. When was the last time he even had a friend? When did somebody expressed concern for him? Damn, when even was the last time somebody held his hair when he threw up?

Self-centred bitch. Show-off. Attention seeker. Dirty slut. A whore.

All fun and smiles and oh, I will do your make up, sweetie, oh, let me do your hair, honey, oh, this costume looks so cute on you, and oh, was it just a quickie outside or you fucked the whole train station? Did he just give you a ride home or you sucked his dick for it? Oh, new shoes? Which sugar daddy’s money was it today?

“Nobody’s fuckin’ money!” he yelled at nothing, swinging the almost empty bottle of tequila around. “None of yer fuckin’ business!”

Maybe we should do next costume event BDSM themed, our little darling angel Tony would love to lick somebody’s boots again.

“Fuck off!” A loud shattering noise when the bottle hit the wall felt like his sanity was breaking to pieces. “Just leave me the fuck alone…”

His brain was so hazed he barely registered arms circling around him, pulling him into a hug. He was swayed from side to side with a soft, crooning noise above him, and thought damn, how bad is it I even hallucinate? Up until he finally focused enough to realize he was engulfed with blackness without any real warmth, just suddenly there, holding him.

“Oh…” he chuckled pathetically. “It’s you.”

The Shadow nuzzled his face but didn’t say anything, just continued to hold him. Frankly, Anthony had no idea what day it was, even what time or where exactly he ended up, if he moved at all, if Alastor was supposed to come but couldn’t make it, so he sent Junior instead, or if this was some kind of weird, alcohol induced vision of much needed comfort.

“Whacha do’n her’, big boy?” The words were slurring together, the alcohol was doing its magic. “Al’s busy busy busy?”

Another nuzzle. Was that a touch therapy? Nobody touched him so readily before. Not even Al who cuddled him at night, but usually touched him only in two prime locations – his waist and around neck and head for pats, but otherwise kept his hands to himself. The Shadow on the other hand just pawed at him pretty much like a big dog wanting to rub all over and Anthony blearily wondered how a man and his shadow could be so different.

“Th’re, t’re,” he patted the Shadow’s head, a strange ghost-like tingling going through his hand. “Ar’ ya sad too?”

The hold remained and the dark tendrils from the shade were covering half of the couch like an expensive Persian rug. That mental image made Anthony bark out a drunken laugh. Could somebody’s shadow be sad? It was clinging to him like a lifeline and Anthony felt the tequila churning in his belly as if it were trying to burn its way through.

“Ah,” he finally realized what the shadow was doing. “Yer tryin’ t’ comf’rt me.”

A hum, clearly agreeing. It made Anthony relax into the hold, feeling a little like floating and not sitting on his tequila-stained couch, and yeah, it was relaxing, it was nice, it was… different.

“Wond’r how Al’s hugs ar’,” he sighed then giggled stupidly. “Prob’ly warm an’ nice. D’es he ev’n hug pe’ple?”

Maybe he did hug people. Just different people. Not Anthony, at least. Touching only when necessary. Maybe he could make a deal about hugging, Al said more deals are possible. Maybe he could ask for one hug a week or something, like one full body hug and then wait for seven days for Al to get his barriers back… or whatever he had. Human contact aversion, probably. He just wasn’t sure what to give in return. Being a personal cook? Not flirting at any point ever again?

Would Al even want shit like that? Or would he want some of his life force? Years off his back? He would give them… for Alastor. If he wanted his life force, Anthony wouldn’t mind if it was him. His life was not worth much anyway.

Would Alastor want something as rotten as his life energy though? Sure, he wanted his heart at least, but it just meant to have a servant later on, nothing he would feed himself with.

Unless he ate his servants. That would kinda suck.

“I k’nda like ‘im, y’kno,” he confessed quietly, slowly slipping lower in the hold. The anger he felt was already gone, now the tequila tried to pull at melancholy, and he didn’t like it. Didn’t need to be sad over the fact the only person at least vaguely resembling affectionate concern was a demon from hell that got paid with his soul and heart for acting out of his character three times a week. “Path’tic me, huh.”

Nuzzling ensued. He liked Al’s shadow. He was like a big animal soaking up bad vibes and making Anthony calmer.

“Wish I c’n talk to ‘im when I feel sad,” he mumbled to himself and barely registered the shadow pulled them both down to the cushions. “’s he French? He sounded French ‘nce…”

“Cajun,” rang through the room and Anthony attempted to focus, but his vision kept on blurring. Maybe he drank too much after all. “Louisiana.”

“Bayou boy?” he giggled anyway. “That’s cute.”

“You drank too much, cher,” rang through the room again and then another sigh came, and radio static buzzed to life. “And you. I was wondering where you slithered to.”

There was a rumble from under Anthony and he felt the force supporting him up to now disappearing until he only felt the couch around him and nothing else. He blinked in confusion before his vision cleared enough to realize all the darkness around him was gone, but legs clothed in red were standing next to him instead. They definitely weren’t there prior to his meltdown, he remembered as much.

He rubbed his eyes and attempted to look up before it finally dawned on him that this was Alastor standing here, flesh and bone and he didn’t even need to get all the way up to his face.

“Look at you,” the voice sounded a little exasperated and human. There was no static whatsoever. “Dat’s da second time you did somethin’ like dis.”

“Hi, Al,” Anthony tried sheepishly, and a clawed hand pushed him back into the cushions when he tried to sit down. Maybe for the best, the floor seemed to wobble more than usual.

“Hi yo’self,” the human voice was so warm. Or maybe he was drunk enough to imagine it that way. “How’s dat you make my shadow to just go and disappear from ‘ell just fo’ you?”

“I guess he likes me,” Anthony slid down the armrest and finally took in the whole Alastor’s height, gazing at his face he couldn’t read even if he tried to. He watched the demon look around until he stopped at the corner where the bottle landed and fell apart and his eyebrows knitted together.

“Hey Al,” Anthony raised a hand and tried to grab at something of the mans’ but missed. He tried few more times but couldn’t decide which of the three Alastors were the right one, so he just fumbled around until Alastor took a pity on him and grabbed his hand in his, stilling him. Also, warm. So, so warm. “Do you ever hug people?”

“No,” the demon answered back simply. “Do you?”

Anthony took a breath with sure answer, then stopped and thought about it.

“…I guess not,” he conceded momentarily. “Nobody t’ hug, really.”

“D’you wanna hug?” came a question and Anthony looked at their joined hands and let out a long, tired sigh.

“Ya,” he croaked out. “I wanna hug. I dun even rememb’r who or when I hugged someb’dy last.”

“I think I hugged ma mum last,” Alastor slowly lowered himself on the couch, sitting at Anthony’s feet, his hand still gripping his prey tightly. “Long time ago.”

“Was she nice?” the human whispered softly.

“Very nice.”

“Do ya miss her?”

“Ev’ry day,” Alastor had the softest expression Anthony ever saw on him. It was almost painful to see and yet somehow beautiful it would be a waste not to look. He wondered if Alastor was ever in love with somebody other than his mum.

“She in heaven?” he asked gently and only got a nod as a response. He felt his head clearing a little and hoped he would remember this tomorrow as clearly as he saw it now. He tried to scramble up, though it probably was the least dignified climb he ever did and then shuffled close to the demon, sitting down with his knees almost touching Alastor’s thigh. Almost.

“Tell me ‘bout her,” he nudged him gently.

The demon tilted his head, the buzz of the static coming to life all of sudden it almost startled him. Probably not the best topic to breach, he realized and looked down at the clawed hand that was still holding his with surprising gentleness.

“Your shadow is pretty independent, huh,” he changed the topic for peace of mind of both of them, and the buzzing intensified. Fuck, not that either.

“My shadow has no filter,” the static voice rang out, the tenseness of Alastor’s smile indicating the situation bothered him more than he let on at first. “He does what feels right.”

So, it felt right for it to come here and comfort Anthony when he felt like shit and wanted to drink himself into stupor?

“It’s nice sometimes,” Anthony tried carefully. “To do what feels right instead of worryin’ ‘bout consequences.”

The static picked up in obvious disagreement and Alastor was glaring at him, his eyes redder than ever.

“Like you do all your miserable life?” the demon uttered venomously, and Anthony felt his heart drop into his stomach and dissolve. When Alastor let go of his hand and abruptly stood up, it felt so far away it could have been considered out of body experience for how cold it suddenly became.

“Well,” his mouth moved by some miracle, though he felt his lower lip quiver. “Some days are hard and lonely. And then I get called a slut at work and groped by random guys because they think they’re allowed, and I feel like I need a hug and safety, but nobody can give me what I want, so I cling to somethin’ that feels right at least a little, even though it’s not good… or healthy… or… “

Sincere and not a lie.

“Or I just wanna forget all that shit by doin’ more dumb shit, because… why not. At least it makes me free for a while, other than just… surviving,” he tried to take a breath but it came in wet and hiccup-y and he realized he was already crying like a pathetic fool thinking a demon could give a shit about anything more than the end of the deal and one more chess piece on his black and white board.

Fucking, stupid idiot, like always. Even though he knew. He knew.

The static was so loud now it made Anthony cover his ears and shut his eyes and he felt sick in the stomach and the fucking tequila wanted to fuck him up now, because why not now, at this exact moment, when everything else was falling apart.

Just go away, go the fuck away, leave me alone.

Then everything stopped. When Anthony opened his eyes, he was alone.

***

2020, January 18th

Anthony woke up on the couch with a crick in his neck and stomach unstable like nitro-glycerine ready to explode. The room smelled of tequila shots and vomit and heartbreak and his whole body was in weird, gut wrenching spasm.

He stared into the ceiling with a splitting headache and wished he’d draw a blank about last night, because nothing about this situation gave a merciful vibe, only bad, bad consequences.

Like Alastor leaving, angry and staticky and cruel.

“FUUUUCK!” he yelled into silence and then grabbed a pillow so he could shout in it again as loud as he could. Regret immediately followed, but he probably deserved to suffer a bit more than usual after a vicious hangover and a dealmaker break up.

Obviously Alastor thought Anthony’s life was miserable. Even Anthony knew it was miserable, he was living it, and he got it. He even made a deal with a devil to make himself less miserable which only added to the pathetic part of the diagnose, so in the end there was nothing much left of him but a huge, pitiful mess.

And Alastor got dragged right into it – a failure after failure, just picking him up with all those fake smiles to keep the deal going because at the end the reward was guaranteed, but it was pretty apparent the equation was not adding up and the result could never be good enough for the demon’s standards.

He just wondered if there was a way to break the deal anyhow, from the demon’s side. There was no way Alastor was coming back after all that, and if he was by some miracle, then only to deliver a killing blow, collecting the soul at least and then leaving him to get eradicated in hell like any other lesser shade.

He managed to drag himself to the bathroom and sat on the toilet lid for 27 minutes before deciding to make himself throw up rather than wait if it would come by itself. It didn’t make him feel any better, sadly, so he just took a shower to get rid of all the sweat and guilt (sadly didn’t work for that one) under streams of water and remained there with head pressed against tiles in hope he would melt through the drain.

Would be honestly quite helpful.

“Anthony?”

He blinked. Did he just hear his name or…?

“Anthony, my good fellow, are you still alive?” Again.

That was Alastor‘s voice. Anthony stared at the door of the shower stand, afraid to even make a sound until he heard his name called once more and that couldn’t be his imagination anymore, right?

“…yeah?” he made himself talk but refused to step out.

“Good! You are still here,” Alastor’s voice was closer now, probably in the hallway. “I am taking your kitchen for now, but please do join me at your convenience!”

Happy, loud voice. The fake cheeriness he heard few times and learned how to recognize – he usually acted like that when he was mad at Anthony for needless flirting but refused to show it.

It made no sense. Why was he here?

The water started to run cold and Anthony gritted his teeth and turned it off, just to carefully step out, bundle up in a towel and added a fluffy bathrobe before cautiously leaving the bathroom. Jazz was playing through the radio in the kitchen and Alastor was humming along while the sound of cutting and simmering added to the ambience.

Was he cooking?

The human stopped near the entrance to the living room and took a deep breath. He wasn’t ready to face him just yet, he still felt like a raw bundle of nerves on two wobbly feet. It was ridiculous – Alastor didn’t exactly do anything wrong. He just stated how things were, Anthony hadn’t been told for the first or last time in his life for sure. He had no right to be mad about the truth.

It was just… such a bad timing. After having a bad day, after going through a depressive episode where the self-loathing starred in the main role, then get this thrown in his face like a hot potato just hurt. Rightfully. But still hurt.

“Are you going to stand there all day?” the staticky voice interrupted his thoughts and the tone was much less cheery now. It made his stomach drop and he unconsciously took a step back. There was a clink sound of a knife being put down and then steps leading towards him, which immediately made him panic and he shut the door to the living room with a loud slam.

The steps halted.

“Should I leave?” Came a question from the other side of the door, loud and clear and scary.

“I don’t know,” Anthony answered back, his hands shaking. It sucked. He should not be this way; he didn’t make a deal for feeling worse than on his normal bad days. He made a deal to be lied to, to be coddled, and then to die and suffer for being a coward, and that was it.

“I will if you want me to,” Alastor said quietly. “I am not here to torture you. Or make you feel bad.”

Too late, bucko.

“I crossed a line yesterday.” It sounded suspiciously like an apology, Anthony thought. “I apologize for saying what I said.”

“What, the truth?” Anthony snorted and leaned against the closed door, eyebrows knitted together unhappily. “Ya don’t need to worry about that one.”

“It upset you.”

“That’s what the truth does.”

“Yes, agreed,” there was a hint of guilt in Alastor’s voice, no matter how he tried to hide it with his radio nonsense. “I was upset too. But still… I should not have lashed out like that.”

Upset?

Anthony turned his head, partly facing the door. What was even Alastor upset about? He just suddenly got all staticky in there, just because Anthony asked… about his mum?

“Because I asked about your mum?” he tried and Alastor on the other side sighed.

“I am going to open the door now,” he stated instead, and Anthony immediately caught the handle in refusal with an immediate no. “Anthony.”

“I don’t get ya,” the human groaned, holding the door closed like it was a lifeline. “I just don’t get ya, why are ya even here? Why were ye so mad yesterday? For a while ya were the nicest person in the whole fuckin’ world and then ya kicked me when I was already on the fuckin’ ground, so why now? Why pretend yer a nice guy when ye don’t care?”

Silence.

“Just because I asked ‘bout her? Ya think it’s somethin’ I can hold against ya in hell or what?” He had no idea if Alastor was still even there. It was deadly silent on the other side, he probably just poofed out of thin air again rather than listen to this.

“No,” sounded behind him all of sudden and it made him curse loudly when he suddenly faced Alastor in his red shirt, with coat nowhere to be seen, his sleeves rolled up and his face not smiling at all. If anything, he actually looked quite hurt.

Fucking filthy lying bastard, that one. Actor worthy of a Golden Globe.

“That’s cheatin’,” Anthony scoffed but Alastor didn’t seem to mind it. He wasn’t immediately in his personal bubble, but he wasn’t far either and it made Anthony unable to collect his thoughts properly. All he wanted was to shout and maybe smack him a bit too. But the demon could bite his arms off, so he refrained from doing anything but glare.

“You seem to like my shadow much better,” Alastor said evenly.

Anthony didn’t get how that was relevant to anything.

“He likes to hug,” he said lamely.

“You like him because he hugs you?” Alastor’s expression morphed into a surprise and Anthony really didn’t get why was he asking about his shadow now of all times.

“Wha… who cares?” he stared at the demon, hating he felt cornered like an animal. “How’s yer shadow even relevant to this conversation?”

“I thought you were asking why I was upset,” Alastor looked away for a while, a strangely nervous gesture. “Therefore, I’m telling you.”

“Because I seem to like yer shadow better?” Anthony almost lost his jaw for how low it dropped and holy fucking shit, was Alastor fidgeting? Was he for real? Was it some refined plan for Anthony to drop his defences again? To act cute as fuck?

His fucking ears were droopy too, Anthony realized, his eyes glued to the top of the demon’s head. No. no no no. This couldn’t be real.

“Are you fuckin’ with me?”

“Since I made a deal with you,” Alastor ignored the question, but still avoided his eyes. “I felt like I lack complete control for some reason. It makes me uneasy when things do not work the way they are supposed to. The way I want them to.”

At that moment it finally hit him.

“You didn’t order yer shadow to come here even once,” Anthony stated, and the static crackled again until Alastor shook his head to get rid of it. Oh. He really didn’t like when things were out of his reach. And his shadow just fucking off to visit the human must have been one of them, especially yesterday.

“But… but you can’t blame me for that?” the human insisted, his eyes wide. “It’s not like I called him here or…”

“Of course not,” Alastor let out a sigh. “He just acts on his feelings.”

“Your shadow likes me?”

“You keep referring to him like he is a completely different person,” the demon crossed his arms on his chest. His forearms were scarred and for some reason showing that bit of skin now seemed like a big step for the man, though Anthony wouldn’t really call him vulnerable. Still scary as fuck.

Silence. Alastor tilted his head to the side, then pursed his lips and looked away again.

“He is not,” he added for good measure. “We are the same being.”

Anthony gaped.

“He has no filter,” he repeated, the conversation yesterday so clear even despite his drunken state, and the more he was staring at Alastor in front of him, the more the demon in red seemed to fluster.

“I, for one,” the demon finally spoke, “have tons of filters. We seem to disagree when it comes to you. On how to… handle you.”

Full body hug versus five foot rule is a pretty wide gap, Anthony mused, still gaping.

“I was unfair yesterday,” Alastor cleared his throat. “You are not… well, of course you are pretty miserable, honestly,” he looked him over, and yeah, okay, fair. He must have looked like complete shit with the hangover, now bundled up in fluffiness of the bathrobe. “There’s no denying it, and you are at least aware of it. But that was not supposed to make you feel bad. It is why we are going to fix this. Eventually.”

“Fix…?” Anthony repeated, not being able to get his expression under control.

“Yes. And then you will die and that would be it, but that is not important right now,” Alastor shook his head again, his voice softer. “Now… you are alive. And you need me.”

“Cocky, aren’t ya,” Anthony sniffed a little. “Mr. Control Freak.”

“At least I don drink tequila like a savage,” Alastor scoffed, the static dropping from his voice like a curtain. “No class at all, cher.”

“Bite me,” Anthony flipped him off and finally opened the door to the living room. Somehow it felt like a gateway where his insecurity had no way to pass and when he walked through, his chest was not so tight anymore.

Then he realized there was a dead deer in the living room, and he hurled out the rest of his stomach contents.

“Tu as fait un gâchis,” Alastor said and went back to the kitchen.

No. No nice things. Alastor was a fucking freak.

#hazbin hotel #radiodust #alastor x angel dust #au #the deal series #human!Angel Dust

16 notes · View notes

bisexualshrug · 6 years ago

Note

Uh has anyone given you the OTP numbers either SUPERIOR SHIP Paige & AJ? Cause if not I’m giving it to you. 11. 14. & 17. The ultimate lesbians.

11. Do they get married? Who proposes and how?

Okay so Paige and AJ are JUST friends. I mean, technically, they are BARELY even friends. So they are absolutely NOT in love. That’s ridiculous. Actually, Paige just finds AJ really annoying, but AJ like...won’t leave her alone. So, they hang out or whatever. But not because Paige WANTS to. It’s like...forced on her, alright? Back off.

So, anyways they’ve been kinda friends (NOT in love though) for years. And all of the sudden AJ is pestering her every day about how AJ is lonely and sad when she goes back home. And they should just move into together. Because Paige flies home with AJ more than she goes to her own home (Paige would argue this was not true...she could be wrong). And they are best friends so they would be great roommates. So, after weeks of constant badgering, Paige is like ugh okay fine whatever. Let’s live together. And AJ is happy and excited and kisses Paige on the cheek which is gross and DOESN’T feel nice.

And then AJ is like ok! Let’s pack your stuff and move into my place in Colorado. And Paige is like...don’t you live in New Jersey?? And AJ is like nope ! Moved to Colorado a month ago. Which is exactly when AJ started pestering Paige about moving into together. Which is weird. And makes Paige a little paranoid but whatever fine. Paige doesn’t really care where they live because they’ll be on the road most of the time anyway.

So they move in together in Colorado. And it’s kind of weird. I mean, Paige and AJ aren’t there often. But whenever they are, all the couples in the apartment complex wanna go out with them? And it’s very double date like but AJ assures Paige that everyone knows it’s not. But AJ always grabs Paige’s hand on the not double dates and clings to her and kisses her cheek again. Which is all gross and weird...but Paige just doesn’t push her off because hurting AJ is basically just kicking a puppy. And Paige doesn’t wanna look at her dumb completely NOT cute pouty face.

But everyone in the entire complex is ALSO really weird. They stop her in the hallways and are like “How are you and AJ doing? Still happy? Going strong?” And like...why are these people so intense about roommates?? Paige just lives with AJ. And travels with her. And works with her. And spends almost all of her time with her. But none of that involves sex so they clearly are not dating. And sex with AJ? Ew no no no. Paige is NOT attracted to her. She’s especially not attracted to AJ when she climbs into Paige’s bed at night in extremely tiny shorts and insists they need to cuddle and- whatever okay she doesn’t need to justify herself to you

But then she’s walking back to their apartment with food from AJ’s favorite takeout place one day and their neighbor stops Paige and tries to have a conversation with her. Which is mostly just annoying bc Paige is hungry and also AJ is waiting for her and this is supposed to be their last night at home before going back on the road. But anyways Paige is half listening to this lady when she suddenly asks “How is your wife doing?” And Paige is like great this woman doesn’t even know who she is. So Paige is like “Oh, you must be mistaking me for someone else. I’m Paige. I live in this apartment right here.” And the woman laughs “Oh yes. With your wife! Short one, quirky but very sweet.” Paige freezes and is like “excuse me a moment.”

And then rushes inside her apartment. AJ sees her and grabs the food and kisses her on the cheek. And Paige just stares at her in disbelief. And finally forces out “Why did our neighbor think we’re married?” And instantly AJ drops the food on the counter and freezes. Paige can already feel a migraine coming on. AJ slowly turns around and laughs “About that” and then makes a run for the door. But Paige grabs her by the waist before she can escape and wrestles her down to the couch.

And what follows is the most insane story Paige has ever heard in her entire life. AJ was...trying to common law marry Paige....behind her back. Without telling her!!! Without dating her!! AJ has been trying to MARRY her for MONTHS. She told Paige that she did research and in Colorado the requirements for common law marriage are cohabitation (check), a reputation of being married (check...thanks to AJ telling everyone in their apartment complex of their common law marriage), conduct which demonstrates intent (okay how the HELL did AJ file their taxes as joint MARRIED and Paige DIDN’T KNOW ABOUT IT), and the final one being consent. AJ said she had everything but the last one, which she was working on.

Paige sits on the couch in disbelief, frozen still for an entire 15 minutes. No movement. No speaking. Just staring at the wall. AJ is... she’s CRAZY. She’s INSANE. What the HELL is wrong with her??? Paige is just going to stand up, pack her things, and move the hell out of this apartment. Get the hell out of here while she still can...Wait why isn’t she standing?? GET UP. LEAVE. GET OUT OF HERE. FREE YOURSELF WOMAN.

But the only thing Paige can do is turn and look at AJ. Who is staring at her worriedly with tears in her eyes. Nervously playing with her hair, but eyes never wavering from Paige’s.

Oh God. Why. Why Why Why

Paige kisses her.

14. Are there any love rivals?

Paige hates CM Punk with a burning fiery passion. Because AJ has this almost hero worship, mentor relationship with him going on. “Oh Punk is so funny. He’s so smart. Did you watch his match last night? Pipebomb pipebomb pipebomb.” If Paige hears “Punkie” one more time she’s gonna punch a hole through a wall.

AJ does not do all of this on purpose because Paige is hot when she’s jealous. And Punk is definitely not in on it (he is. They’re both evil shits).

17. Describe or write a really fluffy scene.

I’m going to save writing an entire Paige/AJ scene later. Although that day might very well come. But not today. Because my marriage description answer was already too god damn long sdlsd

Here’s a description of After Paige Finds Out about the common law marriage. After Paige composes herself, she gives AJ a long, emphatic lecture about how it’s wrong to marry people without their permission and shouldn’t you already be aware of this?? And AJ very seriously listens to her the entire time, looking like she’s absorbing information she’s never heard of before in her entire life. And at the end AJ is just like “Gotcha. No more marrying you behind your back. Makes sense.” And Paige is like how the hell do I wanna kiss this girl right now and not get a restraining order??

But she DOES just want to kiss AJ. And sitting here thinking about it? Okay she also probably wants to hold AJ’s hand more and go on (real) dates and buy AJ chocolate on Valentine’s Day and not ever move out. All the gross disgusting couple stuff. Oh and sex. Yeah absolutely she wants sex. 100%.

So after finishing her lecture she asks AJ out on their first official date. And AJ squeals loudly and literally leaps in Paige’s arms, legs wrapped tightly around her waist. And Paige closes her eyes and tries to clear every single dirty thought out of her mind. Because they haven’t even been on a date yet, and Paige knows how to treat a woman.

So Paige plans out the date and they get ready in their separate rooms. And Paige snuck out earlier that day and bought AJ this comic series she knows AJ has been wanting for weeks. So she knocks on AJ’s room door and hands AJ the comics. And AJ geeks out and Paige is barely able to stop her from canceling the date to hide away in her room until she’s read the entire series. Then, AJ kisses her in thanks and Paige can feel herself grinning like an idiot. She schools her features back into place bc she’s not some schoolgirl with a crush here.

Paige takes AJ to an arcade and AJ is like an excited kid. Literally, she spends part of the night actually playing an actual child at airhockey and losing (on purpose to make the kid smile). And Paige plays games with her too but watches her sometimes. And it’s fun. But God...AJ is so beautiful. The night is perfect. AJ has a blast. And she’s carrying around the biggest armful of tickets in the entire place. She’s passing by kids who are staring at her tickets in literal awe.

Then...before they get to the counter. A fan comes up. She’s a little girl. Maybe around 7. And her Mom says she’s AJ’s biggest fan. And AJ grins so wide and shoves all her tickets into Paige’s arms. She scoops the girl up into a hug and excitedly starts talking to her. Even though they were about to leave, AJ plays a few games with the girl and then takes a picture with her. Gives her one last hug. Then walks over to Paige. She takes her tickets back. But then she walks back over to the girl and gives the girl all of her tickets.

The Mom is beyond thankful and the little girl looks at AJ like she’s her superhero. And then AJ walks with her to the counter. The little girl happily gets one of the biggest prizes on the shelf and thanks AJ with the tiniest, cutest voice Paige thinks she’s ever heard. The Mom and daughter leave after that and AJ skips back over to Paige happily and kisses her on the cheek. She asks if Paige is still ready to go and Paige just stares at her and nods dumbly.

AJ smiles and grabs her hand, tugging her out of the arcade. On the way back, AJ mentions how cute the girl was but says nothing else about it. Instead she talks happily about how much fun the night was with Paige and how perfect of a first date it was.

And Paige drives the car trying her best to listen. But the only thing she can think about is how kind AJ was to that little girl. And how she doesn’t think a single other person on the WWE roster (herself included) would have done all that. And AJ did it without a single hesitation. When she didnt have to. God help her.

This woman is absolutely crazy. But...maybe.. it wouldn’t be so bad to be married to her after all..

#bc idk what to tag them as #paige/aj #paige #aj lee #this is long as FUCK #damn #i love them #OG lesbians #rheaschild

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mixdoyoung · 7 years ago

Text

▸i wrote this for you◂

28 OCTOBER 2017

“Count the candles on your birthday cake, and know that you are brighter and more full of light than every single one of them.”

Happy Birthday, @sichengxmi. From: Kim Doyoung

He cruises through the day with poised indifference; As though it were any other ordinary day. Or at least, as ordinary as things can get with him as a flatmate. But he supposes his unpredictability is to his advantage, since people can never really tell if he's up to something or if he's just being... well, him.

It's the usual routine:

Wake at 8AM, despite it being a weekend. Clean up. Feed the cat. Fixing breakfast – today's menu is simple – of ground meat patties with scrambled eggs and toasted buttered buns with a side of fruits; His excuse is that he's got to rush off for a last minute meeting with an editor. The morning routine is rounded off by him basically throwing Sicheng off the bed since the man is particularly lazy during weekends.

They sit and eat breakfast, and by 9AM, Doyoung's out of the door with his messenger bag and stack of folders in hand. It's so very obvious that Doyoung has somewhere to be and work to be done. Except, he doesn't and it's all just for show. He rounds back to the outdoor emergency stairwell at the back of the building where he makes the long trek back up the building.

There's a little bit of ledge he has to traverse to make it to his bedroom's widow ( which he'd left unlocked and open ). And it's a lack of foresight on his part, to have decided to carry out with him as many folders as he did, but he overcomes that minor hurdle by tucking them under his shirt. He makes quick work of it – having travelled this route over a dozen times by now – shimmering along the sliver of ledge to his widow and hopping into his room.

And now, he waits.

By now, he knows Sicheng's schedule by heart; And he knows that every Saturday, just before noon, Sicheng goes out – study/consultation sessions, he says. So Doyoung's just waiting for him to leave.

He's in no rush, and he merely bides his time, fiddling with his phone till he hears the front door click and beep shut in its telling way, and it's his cue to come out and play.

❈

Cooking was a skill he'd painstakingly honed over the years since he'd gone solo; So it honestly doesn't take him as long as one would think it would to prepare and lay out an extravagant birthday feast. But he belatedly realises he'd miscalculated, and he's left with an excess of time with nothing much to do except wait for Sicheng's return.

Idling around is not something that Doyoung's particularly fond of though, and eventually he finds something supposedly productive for himself to do while waiting for his flatmate's return.

That being... writing a letter? Of cheery, sentimental birthday wishes? Perhaps?

❈

It's odd, that Doyoung – who had the emotional intelligence of a 5 year old – would go out of his way to so meticulously plan a conspicuous, and hopefully, somewhat meaningful birthday celebration for a friend. It's something he has never done before in his life. Even he himself thinks this is odd behaviour on his part.

He's not really the sentimental type. His friends know. His family knows.

He's not used to birthday celebrations for one, both for others, and for himself. But he supposes people can change, and he has. He use to not care. Perhaps because he was young, and caught up with whatever youthful pursuits a teenager might have; He's still young, and more often than not caught up in other youthful, perhaps more dangerous pursuits he had, but he's also matured a bit. Maybe.

There's quite a bit one can learn from living independently from family, and away from a controlled environment such as High School. Doyoung learns, has learnt, to treasure company his friendships more; Friends are, after all, harder to make and keep once one has entered the working world, he realises. And even the most solitary, and indifferent individual grow lonely over time when starved of human contact that was more than just professional.

Not that he was lonely. Not really.

But he did miss his more social, High School days. And that was saying a lot because he wasn't even that social back then.

❈

Sicheng,

How did you like the birthday feast? I hope you liked it! Today is the peak of my culinary career. You'd probably never taste anything better made by me than today's feast. I know you're rich and loaded, and you can probably afford to get yourself some authentic Zhejiang Cuisine anytime, anywhere. But where would you find such variety and heart, except from moi? ( Or maybe your mother. ) You don't show it, but you probably get homesick every once in awhile right? Most people do you know? Maybe more so during their birthdays, which I suppose is usually spent with family right? I hope the food makes you feel like home isn't that far away. You know you can ask me to cook your hometown's food anytime right?

Anyways, how long has it been since the start of our cohabitation? I can't really remember. it's almost been a year right?

I'm glad to have met you. You're messy. A homewrecker. A kinky pervert. A questionable college student, who I'm certain is going to flunk out if you don't start keeping proper track of your timetable. But you're a nice guy. And a good friend.

Sure, you keep leaving stuff lying around and all, but hey ho! You've started being more conscious about your mess and I'm proud of you hyung! I'm making an impact on your life! Haha ~ You have stolen away half of Felix's love from me, but I guess having a mom and dad is actually better for Felix than just a single parent eh? You're one kinky bastard, but well, everyone has their dirty secrets and you're cute when you get embarrassed ( thanks for amusing me all this time ). And well, I can't speak for your college life but er, at least you know your stuff? You must be smart to study humanities in another language, and not to mention, get into Sungkyunkwan in the first place. So I'll trust in you not to flunk out.

You know, I'm not very close with my family. And I like being independent. And living alone is great. Was great. But it does get a little... stifling at times? And boring. Life feels somewhat monotonous when everyday, you come home to an empty apartment – well, save for Felix. It's pretty quiet, I realise, when you're not around. And before you came, it must've been really, really quiet. And empty.

Your arrival made everything less dull and more lively. And although we haven't known each other that long, I feel like you've become a close friend to me. I know you often give in to me, and let me do as I wish most times. Maybe it's because I'm younger. Maybe not. And although I don't really say anything about it, I notice it and appreciate the silent gesture hyung. Also, I know I treat you really roughly at times, and don't address you formally and all that nonsense but er, I do still respect you. I just do all of it because well, I know you can handle it and because you let me. Heh.

Ew. I'm being so mushy.

Ahem. So erm. Anyways, I just want to say that I'm glad you were born. And that I've met you. And that you're the one who called and decided to rent the room I had on the classifieds. You're great. And I love you.

I hope you like the camera I got you. I know you've been somewhat interested in photography for awhile now, and I'd love to teach you. It's no professional grade DSLR, but everybody has to start from somewhere. Also, I don't want to scare you with all the technical stuff too early on hah! Let's just start off with taking pretty photos together!

Love you! Doyoung

❈

In the end, Doyoung's feeling sentimental. But not that sentimental.

Glancing down at the meticulously calligraphed letter, he frowns. Grimacing as he roughly scribbles all over the painstakingly inked letter before scrunching up the parchment paper and tossing it aside. He can't bring himself to actually present such a heartfelt letter to Sicheng.

Emotions – being honest about them, made him feel oh so very vulnerable. He didn't like the feeling.

❈

There's the telling click and whirr of the front door unlocking, and Doyoung flies up from his seat.

When Sicheng walks through the door, Doyoung is there to greet him with 10 times the usual intensity and the brightest of all his smiles. He practically throws himself at the man, muttering sweet birthday wishes peppered with giggles as he playfully showers the man with kisses. And when he's done playing clingy puppy, he all but drags Sicheng over to the dining table laden with an assortment of dishes.

And sitting by the corner of the table, is Sicheng's wrapped gift, with a simple card on top with the equally simple message: "To: Sicheng-hyung Happy Birthday ~"

In the end, Doyoung really just isn't that honest of a person.

And in the end, he chooses to let words be left unsaid. Because he's not ready to be honest with Sicheng. Or himself. And he's not ready to be expose himself, and let himself be vulnerable. And because he's a man of ACTION, not WORDS.

But really, that's just an excuse.

#sichengxmi #kdy; solo #sp; i wrote this for you #[ this got so much longer than intended??? ]#[ i need to sleep ]#[ also lol idk what i wrote ]#[ happy birthday Sicheng ya kinky dude ]#[ Doyoung loves you ]#[ not proof read because it's too long and i'm dead tired ]

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