#like that was so surprising and i was not expecting it and idk
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What being their crush is like
Pairing(s): Characters x Gn!Ninja!Reader (teammate)
Character(s): Naruto Uzumaki, Sakura Haruno, Sasuke Uchiha
Naruto Uzumaki
An absolute fool for you
The only ways you could’ve caught this morons affections is by either being attractive or being kind to him back when you both first started out at the academy
Either way he’s absolutely smitten and so when he hears your name called out after his in class- he’s ecstatic that you’ll be on the same team
If you have a crush on someone else he’d be pretty bummed out but it won’t deter him
(He was especially motivated by sasuke and Sakura- it was just to get him away from them)
He’ll try to buy you ramen, flowers, honestly just anything to show you that he’s the most suitable suitor
Which couldn’t be further from the the truth (in the eyes of everyone else)
He’d be so open about liking you
Well, when he’s not around you
He’ll always talk about you and how wonderful you are- it’s so painfully obvious to any outsider looking in
And when someone brings up his more than obvious crush on you he’d flush and act as if they had gone mental
Like what
Also bonus points to you if you constantly back him up when he’s being teased and support his dream to be hokage
Literally +1000 points
Well a certain period of time passes and throughout said period he’s constantly flirting with you
How? Well he’s always complimenting your fighting/ jutsu and trying to ask you out on a date
If you are even slightly hesitant to respond
Like by a milisecond- then he’d rub the back of his head and laugh it off
Going on about how he was just joking and I don’t know what
Then one day you end up accepting
Which is funny because of the fact that he left a very traditional love note hidden somewhere he knew you’d fine
[insert you going home and finding it]
Literally not surprising to anyone and most people would assume that Naruto would confess boldly
But I disagree- he’d be pretty shy and uncertain despite his tendency to be reckless
If you accept or not will be up to you but the next time you see him he’s all awkward and stuff but still manages to try and play it off
It’s up to you to break the ice
Sakura Haruno
Again, Sakura likely started liking you because of your attractiveness
It was just a surface level crush until she saw that you had an actual good character
She’s so beyond happy that you’ll be on the same team, I’m not even exaggerating
You’re all in the same class and so as classmates you’re all bound to have crushes on the same people
That’s to say- a good amount of people also had a crush on you and the moment your name was announced alongside hers-
She just mentally imagined flipping them all and shoving it in their faces
Miss girl is honestly so sweet, she’s always trying to spend time with you and if you have any trouble with anything
E.g. ninjutsu, fighting, etc. she’ll always be there to help
Maybe a little too willing at times
Now, we all know that Ino and Sakura have had this rivalry and often banter
Well, all of a sudden (if Ino isn’t fighting over you) she’s probably making fun of you and being very loud about her opinion on you
It’s either that she thinks you and Sakura are a perfect match (negative) or that you’re terrible and not the best option (also negative)
Either way you’re catching strays
Sakura obviously gets riled up over this and tries to defend you no matter where or when
Which leads to you being there for Sakuras Chunin exams and experiencing the whole match
It’s an event that leads to character growth- but when she goes back she doesn’t expect you to be there waiting for her
She’s honestly flattered you’d wait for her and is mentally smug about it
When she flirts with you it’s honestly super obvious too
I can’t even deny that
Like at times she’d defend you and act as though you’re always right and idk what else (which is her odd way of flirting because she sort of stares)
And then sometimes she just opens up about private stuff around you during the quiet moments
Plus she also gifts you little trinkets- like flowers or something casual and small
Either way- when she confesses it’s probably spontaneous asf
Like you’re walking around at night and she gets this urge to just spill her guts
And she does
She’s basically like why the hell not be like Naruto
She’s super flushed and awaits your response right then and there
If you like her back and know it- that’s that
But if you tell her you need to time to figure it out then she’ll accept
Just know she’s lying awake at night wondering regretting it
Sasuke Uchiha
He acts super neutral towards you
Which wouldn’t be an obvious pointer that you’re his crush towards the average person but cmon
He’s sasuke
So ofc it’s obvious he has a crush on you
Honestly the only way I’d see him having a crush on you would be if you were close to him pre massacre and have been by his side since forever
(Unless you’re willing to wait the long game *cough*cough* slow burn)
He’d be pretty dependent on you while also being super independent
It’s honestly confusing sometimes
When it comes to the whole you being apart of his team, he doesn’t feel a particular way about it
(Or so he tells himself)
He’d try so hard to be nonchalant around you
Like not even joking
But if someone insults you or does something slightly disrespectful- he’s giving them the death glare
And then excuses it with just being annoyed by (more often than not) Naruto
Since he usually pokes fun at ppl and stuff
(If you didn’t know him before the academy and even if you did) He’d probably admire your skills and how smart you are
Like he’d watch you from afar and is honestly jealous and simultaneously sees you as a rival
Again, super confusing.
The most affection you’d get from him at this stage is his (once in a lifetime) compliment about your fighting or something
Then he’d walk away
You’re left standing there super confused while he walks away with a light blush dusting his cheeks
He ain’t fooling nobody
He obviously feels super weird about having a crush on you because of his whole mission on finding his brother and -
Yea.
So even though he does like you more than he’d want to admit- he would never confess
Not likely
Which is what you thought
Until you find out that Sasuke left the village and there’s no point in trying to go after him or anything at all really
It’s a betrayal to you and everyone else
It’s dark by the time you get home and enter your room
You pick up this thing Sasuke had given you- his excuse? It wasn’t worth his time and so he had given it to you
You didn’t care much for his excuse and just kept it on your dresser
Upon closer inspection you noticed a paper sticking out and obviously took it out
It was a letter- one could argue it was sasuke confessing
He went on about how he liked was ok being around you and the paper note wasn’t all that long
Just a few lines (if any)
There was a rip towards the bottom and you were left wondering what it would’ve said
Spoiler - it was Sasukes actual confession that he cowardly ripped off and threw into a body of water, hoping you’d never find it
-
A/n: got a tad carried away
#fanfic#gn reader#male reader#fluff#fanfic fluff#female reader#fluff headcanons#sakura haruno#sakura x reader#sakura x you#sasuke uchiha#sasuke x reader#sasuke naruto#naruto x reader#naruto series#naruto#naruto sakura#naruto x you#naruto headcanons#naruto fanfiction
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Midnight pumpkins and mirrors
Intro: A countdown to midnight, when the dark mirror can finally send you back to your own home. Tick tock, Cinderella!
Warnings: bad writing, awful grammar, not proofread, angst-ish, reader is yuu, open ending, gory descriptions just a bit
A/N: This one's a little longer than the others, but hey, a finale's gotta be grand, right? Happy birthday to my baby darling sweetheart babygirl love of my life Jade!!! and floyd too ig idk. The extras will all be posted at 6, I just have to link them up so if you want a working navigation system, maybe wait til 6:15 or something. Taglist will start after this event.
Masterlist
Jade's Birthday Countdown
Extras: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7
[2:00 pm. 10 hours to 12.]
“Y/N! There you are, I’ve been looking for you.”
Now that’s a voice you don’t hear everyday. You take a deep breath in preparation for his bullshit and swivel on your heels. Crowley seems happy as he waves his cane and the thick tome in his other hand, decorated with jewels and black velvet. “I have excellent news!” he exclaims, and you ready yourself for yet another task to fulfill in his name, “I’ve found a way to send you home!”
…That was not what you expected him to say.
There’s happiness, of course. You miss your parents, your family. You almost miss normalcy. There’s a little bit of relief, as if your soul itself is sighing that finally, you could go home. But more evident than all of those feelings is your heart falling to your stomach—so heavily weighing you down with such little words. Because as much as you miss your family, you have family here too, right? You belong here as much as you belonged in your old world.
But it’s not like you can choose to stay.
This isn���t the place you’re supposed to be, even if it feels right.
You’re weak, and you’re magicless, and you stir up so much trouble and danger on a daily basis unlike you’ve ever known. But earth is all you’ve ever known. Crowley waves the book again, right in front of your face, as if to pull you back down to reality. “I’ll set the coordinates in the Dark Mirror. At exactly 12 am tonight, the portal will open, but until then,” his smile widens, “my benevolent and kind self will allow you to say goodbye to your friends. Just remember to be there at 12, okay? It’s very difficult—almost impossible—to open a second portal, so don’t miss this chance.”
Right. Don’t miss it.
You’ll say goodbye. And maybe, leave your boyfriend and Grim for last.
[2:30 pm. 9 hours 30 minutes to 12]
Heartslabyul always smells like roses and baked goods. You hate to interrupt the gathering, but you wave to your friends with a small smile on your face. Even if you’re devastated, you need to seem happy. Because it’s right to smile. Because it’s right to be excited to go home.
“I’m leaving.”
Ace and Deuce seem confused, questioning you about it, Cater’s eyes are wide with surprise as he drops his fork back onto his plate with a loud clatter. Trey is quiet. But Riddle looks like he immediately understood what you meant, an expression of hurt on his face.
“Where are you going?” Deuce asks.
“Home.”
The silence is deafeningly loud.
“I came to say goodbye. Thank you for taking care of me.”
You can’t even find it in yourself to look at them as you walk away. Riddle, Cater, and Trey were like your older siblings, while Ace and Deuce were the first people to befriend you in this strange place. At this point, they’re already a part of you.
It feels like your flesh has been ripped out, your organs trailing behind you as you walk out of Heartslabyul.
[3:00 pm. 9 hours to 12]
The sun is beating down on your back at Savanaclaw, and you push through despite the tears running down your cheeks and the sweat dripping down your back. In any case, you’re soaked. Ruggie sees you first, and he drags you over worriedly to Leona.
“Oy, herbivore, who did this to you?” Leona sounds so harsh even when he’s gently wiping your tears away with a handkerchief.
Ruggie is folding laundry, watching you, and Jack is patting your back as you sob.
“No one,” you hiccup.
“Then why’re you crying so much?”
“I’m sad,” you mumble, and Leona rolls his eyes. Still, the lion beastman takes you into his arms and hugs you tight.
“That’s a stupid reason to be crying.”
“Leona,” it hurts, but it has to be done, “I’m leaving. Forever.”
Your trek to Scarabia is accompanied by an echo of growls and the vivid illusions of animal ears pressed flat in an instinctive sadness.
[3:30 pm. 8 hours 30 minutes to 12]
There’s a distinct lack of music and confetti and frills when you step foot into the decorated dorm lounge of the Sorcerer of the Sands. It seems like the whole place and all its occupants are entranced in gorgeous dreams, with a lot of students napping on the carpets like cats. Jamil and Kalim are sitting at the corner of the room with a small tray of snacks, the former stitching a piece of cloth and the latter staring hard at a textbook. The sunny red-eyed housewarden positively beams when he notices your presence, and Jamil has to tug on his arm to remind him not to wake up the sleeping Scarabia students.
“Y/N! Want a cracker?”
You deny Kalim’s enthusiastic offer and sit down.
The happiness seems to drain right out of him when he notices your eyes swollen with tears. “Kalim, Jamil,” you take a deep breath. The day’s already tired you out enough, but it hasn’t numbed you to the point that you could so easily do the thing you set out to do. “I’m here to say goodbye.”
There’s a look of quiet shock and disappointment, but Kalim’s sadness is loud.
You can still hear it as you leave the desert.
[4:00 pm. 8 hours to 12]
Rook already knows. Of course he does. You can tell.
He’s looking at you with a scarily blank expression, as if he’s trying his best not to let his emotions leak out of him from the very moment you stepped into the grandeur of Pomefiore. Epel is standing beside Vil who was sitting elegantly atop his throne. The atmosphere is one of an execution.
But it’s unknown who holds the ax.
“Rook said you had something to tell me?”
“Something to say to all three of you,” you correct him, “I’m here to say goodbye. Crowley found a way for me to go home.”
As expected, like most of your other friends, Vil and Epel stay silent at your declaration.
“Wait,” the beautiful housewarden signals, “let me pack you a few things to go.”
Epel chimes in with teary eyes that he forces back, “I’ll grab you some apple juice that you can take home with you.”
[5:00 pm. 7 hours to 12]
You walk into Ignihyde with your arms stuffed full of self care products and apple snacks and juice. The halls are empty as usual, so you make your way to Idia’s room and kick at it gently to make noise, sniffling. It’s opened by Ortho.
“Y/N L/N! What a nice surprise,” Ortho pulls you in, and you see Idia passed out on his bed, almost suffocating underneath a pile of blankets, “I can wake him up for you if it’s urgent.”
“Um, I can wake him up myself.”
You sit down on the mattress.
“Idia,” you poke at his face, “wake up. I’m here to say goodbye.”
“Mmh…where are you…going…?”
“Home. Forever.”
His golden yellow eyes flutter open, expression blank as he looks at you sleepily. “Forever?”
“Forever.”
[6:00 pm. 6 hours to 12]
By the time you get to the castle of Diasomnia, you’re already lugging a high-tech suitcase around. In it are the things that Vil and Epel forced on you, while Idia passed his favorite anime figure into your hands and told you to take care of it well. Ortho gave you the suitcase so you didn’t have to walk around with an armful of stuff.
To be honest, you dreaded this goodbye almost as much as you hated it when you had to give your farewell to Heartslabyul. If only because Malleus had also become one of the most important friends you’ve had in this place. And he has no other friends besides you. It’s less that you’re fearful of his reaction and more worried about this strange fae companion of yours. With you leaving, who would come on long walks with him through abandoned ruins in search of gargoyles? Who would patiently attempt to teach him the ways of modern technology?
It can no longer be you.
In any case, only Lilia takes it well.
You feel like shit when Malleus is looking at you with teary eyes, like a puppy abandoned by its owner. Sebek doesn’t make it any better when he’s yelling at you for making his liege upset. Silver is looking at the floor, but you can see the tension on his shoulders and the harsh grip he’s keeping on his mug. Lilia smiles at you so joyfully and it’s the only one you’d seen all day.
“We all say goodbye someday,” he takes you in an embrace, “yours is just a bit earlier, hm? Go home. Your parents must miss you a lot.”
You nod.
Green lightning crackles in the distance as you walk back to the mirror.
[6:30 pm. 5 hours 30 minutes to 12]
Ramshackle is quiet. Even the ghosts seem to have realized the severity of your situation—shying away from you and the tears that haven't stopped falling since several hours ago. You leave the suitcase at the door and head towards your room.
Grim’s taking a nap.
“Grim,” you whisper as you wake him up, cradling him in your arms, “I have something to tell you.”
“Hench human?”
“I’m leaving.”
You leave for the last dorm with your suitcase and scratches littering your arms, your shoulder soaked with the direbeast’s tears.
He promised to meet you again in the Hall of Mirrors before 12.
[7:00 pm. 5 hours to 12]
Saying goodbye to Floyd and Azul was okay. It wasn’t any harder than saying goodbye to any of your other friends. Still, they share a look with each other that you take as a warning to yourself.
You sit down at one of the tables.
Floyd promises to drag Jade over.
Azul picks up an apron and a notepad to help run orders.
“I was given a sudden break,” your boyfriend sits beside you with a grin after a few minutes, “and I was wondering what you told Azul that made him so willing to cover for me.”
You take his hand.
And take a breath.
And still, you don’t have enough courage. Not yet. You give him a smile past tears that blurred your vision, and he worriedly wipes them away. “What’s wrong?” he asks softly.
“I’ll tell you,” you press a kiss to the back of his hand, “but will you spend a few hours with me? Let’s just…cuddle, maybe.”
Jade agrees and pulls you to his room.
[8:00 pm. 4 hours to 12]
It feels so warm within his embrace. Draped in his blankets, wrapped in his arms—it feels right.
[9:00 pm. 3 hours to 12]
“And there’s a special flower that’ll bloom on that day. Will you come with me to see it?”
“...Maybe not.”
“Then I will take many pictures for you. And perhaps bring one back as a specimen.”
[10:00 pm. 2 hours to 12]
“My parents have mentioned wanting to meet you. Could you spare me some time for the next holiday?”
“They want to meet me?”
“They do.”
“What did you tell them about me?”
[11:00 pm. 1 hour to 12]
“I have to go.”
The smile fades from Jade’s expression. He holds on tight to your wrist, speaking lightly, “Where are you going? How long will you be gone?”
He’s so unreasonably perceptive.
“Why are you unable to make plans with me? Do you wish to end our relationship?”
You don’t want to.
“Y/N. What are you hiding from me?”
But you must.
“Jade,” you break out into sobs, “I’m going home. I’m never coming back. I’m so sorry, I just, I wanted to spend more time with you. Just a little more time.”
There’s anger in his eyes, disappointment and shock and irritation. He’s so scarily still. Until he lets your wrist go and turns away. “Then leave,” he says quietly, “I bid you farewell.”
[11:10]
The lounge is already closed.
[11:20]
The roads are deserted.
[11:30]
The Hall of Mirrors, however, is crowded. You see all of your friends waiting for you, some smiling, some sobbing.
[11:40]
You hug Grim to your chest. You can’t cry anymore. All your tears are dried up.
[11:50]
“Not even a second thought? I tell you to leave and you do?”
You freeze when Jade enters the hall. He’s still in his dorm uniform, unchanged from when you’d whisked him away from work hours ago. You can say that he’s mad, but more than that, he looks so hurt. Not a single person says anything as he walks towards you.
[10 seconds]
“Were you lying when you said you loved me?”
“No, Jade, I love you—”
“Just not enough to stay?”
[9]
“I have family waiting for me. My parents are waiting for me!”
“And so you betray my trust. You leave me behind.”
[8]
“I can’t stay.”
[7]
“Or you don’t want to.”
[6]
“Jade, I don’t want to leave you.”
[5]
For the first time since the day you met him, Jade Leech seems to be crying. He doesn’t acknowledge the tears as they fall.
“Then don’t leave.”
[4]
“Please…just stay…”
[3]
“I’ll give you everything.”
[2]
“Stay with me. With us. I beg you.”
[1]
Hey. Check out the sequel. K bye.
#disney twst#disney twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland#gender neutral reader#twst x reader#x reader#jade leech x reader#jade leech#jade x reader
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𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐈𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐞𝐬
𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝟲 - 𝗠𝗶𝘅𝗲𝗱 𝗙𝗲𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀
Discord 18+ - Twitter - Kofi - Masterlist
Pairing: Suguru Geto x Black Female Reader
Summary: A surprise around every corner.
Genre: Pregnancy AU
Story Warning:Smut, Vaginal Sex, Angst, Fluff Sometimes, Profanity, Friends with Benefits, Mental Health Discussions, Therapy, Mental Health Struggles (Suguru), Jealousy, Jealous Behavior, Overprotective, Possessive, Accidental Pregnancy, Unprotected Sex, Pregnancy Sex, Breeding Kink, Creampie, Possessive Sex, Possessive Behavior, Reader is black female reader who uses she/her pronouns but anyone can read!
Click here to read on Ao3!
Suguru Art by: Ilameys
A/N: I can't believe I randomly pumped out a chapter of this after like a year+ hiatus. Idk when the next time I'll update this one is so enjoy! LOL
Shoko’s slender fingers swipe along your stomach, a warm towel cleaning the ultrasound jelly from your skin before she gently pulls your gown back down.
“So…” Shoko breathes as she watches Suguru gently help you to sit up. “Any questions?”
You glance up at Suguru who peers down at you. Your hand still holds his tightly. In his other hand, he holds one of the photos Shoko took of your baby. It matches the one in your free hand. He’s been so quiet, didn’t utter a word while he watched Shoko carefully slid the ultrasound scanner along your skin to take photographs and the measurements of the baby, but you could feel his pulse race with every movement of the tiny being on the screen.
“How far along am I?” Your voice is hardly above a whisper, trembling with every syllable.
“Baby is measuring around 18 weeks, give or take a few days. But everything looks good so far, and you’re looking good as well. How’s your morning sickness?”
Suguru shifts next to you, brows furrowed. Since breaking the news to him, he’s been able to put 2 and 2 together and figured out that your months long illness was simply your baby rejecting every attempt to eat or drink anything.
You nod. “It was brutal, but I’m feeling good most of the time now.”
From your peripheral, you see the way Suguru purses his lips together and you half expect him to make a snarky remark. But just like his presence here today, he surprises you when he takes your hand in his and whispers, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”
And it has to be the hormones that have tears forming in the corners of your eyes. It’s not his fault he wasn’t there for you. In fact, he had tried to be there for you many times even if he had no idea what the real cause of your sickness was. You haven’t forgotten the endless bowls of soup he’d brought you when he first found out you were sick and refused to see him, or the texts and calls that you rejected when he tried checking on you. You can appreciate that, appreciate him. The fact that Suguru has always been kind to you, always been a friend to you. Even when you weren’t deserving, when you weren’t a good friend to him. You give him a small smile, taking his hand in yours and squeezing gently. You don’t need to say anything for your apology to come through loud and clear, because when Suguru squeezes your hand back, you know he’s moved past it.
“Okay. Let me know if it starts back up again. I can prescribe you something to help. Take your prenatals,” Shoko interrupts, not caring in the least about your little tender moment with your child’s father. She stands tall, slipping her hands into her white coat pockets. “It’s crucial for the baby’s health, and yours. Pregnancy has a funny way of fucking with your cursed energy and those vitamins are specially made for pregnant Sorcerers.”
“I will,” You agree and Shoko smiles at you, then at Suguru.
“Alright, I’ll let you get dressed, but you’re all set. Let me know if you have any questions or call me if anything comes up.”
With that she leaves, patting Suguru on his shoulder on her way out. You shoot him a questioning look. “What was that about?”
Suguru slips a hand behind your back, slowly helping you to get comfortable. He shrugs. “Who knows? Do you…” He motions to the door with his thumb. “Do you want me to leave so you can get dressed?”
A small laugh bubbles from your chest. “What would that matter? It’s not like you haven’t seen everything already.” You extend your arm, motioning to the chair where your clothes lie. “Will you hand those to me please?”
Suguru does so without question. He stands there, staring at a point on the wall while you dress yourself, still wanting to be respectful. Now that the appointment is over and Shoko (and the ultrasound machine) are no longer there to act as a buffer, it’s a bit awkward. You slip your shirt on, carefully sliding off of the bed with Suguru’s help. You can’t help but giggle at the way he gently makes sure you’re stable before he releases his hold on you.
”I’m not huge just yet. I’m still able to get around well.”
Suguru just shrugs, a light rose color dusting his cheeks. “Kinda can’t wait to see your belly grow,” he mutters quietly. His words have your heart going into overdrive, and you stare up at him wide eyed. “Can’t ever be careful, by the way. I don’t mind helping you out.”
You bite your lip to suppress the smile fighting to take over and nod. He’s right. You should let him help you. He wants to.
“You hungry?” He asks, carefully slipping the ultrasound picture in his jacket pocket and patting it affectionately. “We can grab some lunch and maybe talk…about everything.”
He holds his hand out to you and you take it immediately. “I’d like that.”
-
“Be back by curfew,” Satoru grunts from behind Ijichi’s desk. He’s got his enormous feet propped up on the day pass paperwork he’s just signed off granting Suguru permission to leave the campus with you. The assistant stands to the side, jittery and sweating as his eyes dart between the former friends.
This is the norm for Suguru. If ever he needs to leave campus, Satoru is required to sign off on it.
The higher ups probably feel it’s better to have The Strongest around to make sure nothing is amiss when releasing a recovering mass murderer into the public even for a few hours. They must be pretty confident that this time around, he won’t hesitate to do what needs to be done.
“I know,” you assure Satoru because Suguru isn't going to. He knows that Satoru isn’t going to acknowledge him. Especially when Satoru makes it painfully clear that he isn't, his entire body turned away from him to face you. If Satoru’s attitude toward Suguru bothers him at all, he doesn’t let it show. He’s leaning against the wall of Ijichi’s office, gaze set on you as you handle what needs to be done. He’s used to this procedure already, so he’s just ready to get out of here.
You sign your name on the dotted line of the last sheet of the stack, agreeing to take on sole responsibility for the man beside you. When you slide the papers over to Satoru, the man sits up, face serious. His lips are set in a hard line and you think he’s looking at you. You really can’t tell behind that damned blindfold of his, but yeah…you’re fairly certain he’s staring at you. You don’t know Satoru all that well. Not even as well as Ijichi, and definitely not as well as Suguru, but to be under the gaze of The Six Eyes probably feels like what you’d imagine being under a microscope feels like. You feel exposed, like everything about you is being laid bare before this man. You don’t like it.
“You done?” Suguru steps in between you and Satoru’s line of sight, and you nod. Pressing a hand to the small of your back, he ushers you out of the office and into the open air where you feel like you can breathe again. You glance back at the office, just barely catching sight of Satoru warping out of Ijichi’s seat, and let out a sigh.
“That was so weird,” you murmur, turning back to stare up at Suguru. “It’s like –”
“He knows,” Suguru cuts you off, staring at the doors behind you. Like he can still see Satoru andt he look on his face long after he’s gone.
“Huh?”
“He knows. About the –” he glances around, lowering his voice so only you can hear. “About the baby.”
Your heart pounds loudly in your ears, because for some reason, you hadn’t thought for a second that Satoru Gojo - the holder of The Six Eyes - would immediately pick up on the fluctuations in your cursed energy caused by your pregnancy, but you should have guessed. Now what’ll happen? You still haven’t spoken to Principal Yaga about your situation and you’re damn sure not ready to yet.
Suguru takes your hand in his, lacing your fingers together. He can see your thoughts running a million miles a minute already, so he tells you what he knows will calm you. What he knows without a doubt is the truth. “He won’t say anything.”
“How do you know what?”
Suguru chuckles, squeezing your hand reassuringly as he makes his way across the campus and towards the exit, your hands still clasped together. “Satoru may hate me, may wish I were dead from time to time, and that’s fine. He will never hate me as much as he hates authority, the higher ups and especially paperwork.”
You find yourself smiling, believing Suguru’s words.
“If Satoru reported your condition, he’d be required to speak to the higher ups. And then he’d be required to fill out form after form about how he found out and why that makes you ineligible to take on missions. Trust me, he’s going to take this secret to his grave until you or Shoko say something. Then he’ll leave the paperwork to you two.”
Relief floods over you, because you do trust Suguru. You know that he’s right. Who knows Satoru better than his old friend? While Satoru can’t stand the sight of Suguru most days, he’s still fairly the same person from what Shoko and Suguru have told you of their time growing up together. So if Suguru says he won’t say anything, you trust his word.
“But honestly, paperwork is really reason enough for Satoru to keep his mouth shut,” Suguru mutters, and you lean against his shoulder as you burst into laughter.
-
You sit in a bustling cafe hidden in one of the back streets of Shibuya, waiting at the table for Suguru to bring back your meal. He’d insisted that he didn’t want you standing around if you didn’t need to and instructed you to wait for him. He would hear no arguments about it. This is a fairly new side of Suguru - doting and protective, and each time his hand touches you, your heart rate picks right up. It’s making you confused.
There’s always been a strong physical attraction between the two of you, obviously. But you’ve never entertained the thought of seeing Suguru in a romantic light. You’ve always been able to keep him at a distance simply by reminding yourself that he just isn’t fit to be a romantic partner. He’s damaged, and while he’s working towards being a better man, you’re not sure if he’ll ever truly get there. At least as a romantic partner, because he’s an amazing friend and you have no doubt that he’ll be an incredible father, too. But it’ll be a long while before you both get to hold this baby. Who knows what could happen in the remainder of your pregnancy?
Suguru stands at the counter, waiting for your orders to be finished and it’s the first time since everything has come to light that you’ve gotten to just observe him. Your eyes watch as he exhibits all the nervous behaviors you’ve picked up on in the time you’ve gotten to know him. His lip between his teeth, probably red and swollen from him chewing it so hard. Fingers fiddling with the bun that sits atop his head. Hands slipping into his pockets for all of three seconds before they’re right back in his hair.
You’re sure if you pressed you could probably find out what was on his mind, but then you’re afraid that he’d probe back and you’re not sure if you’re ready to go there with him just yet. You’re not sure if you want him to know that you’re giving thought to what the next step of your relationship should be. You’re not sure if you want him to know that you can’t tell if it’s the pregnancy hormones that have your heart racing as he grabs your order and brings it over to you. Or if it’s the pregnancy hormones that make your eyes water just a bit at the way he carefully arranges your food and drink and asks if there’s anything else you need because he’s happy to grab it for you. Or maybe it’s you, truly feeling this way because it’s the pregnancy showing you your friend in a completely different light.
It’s a strange feeling to look at Suguru this way. No longer your fuck buddy, but now the father of your child and…a potential romantic partner?
”What are you thinking about?” Suguru questions, sipping his coffee.
”Nothing!” You blurt out much too quickly, sipping your drink. Even with his brows furrowed in curiosity, you’re thankful that Suguru doesn’t pry any further.
“Okay…” He unwraps his meal, a black bean burger on wheat. “So, how are you feeling after the appointment?”
For some reason, his concern for you makes your heart swell. Even after you keeping this pregnancy a secret from him, and after everything that followed, his concern is you first.
‘No, his concern is for the baby,’ you try to reason.
“I feel good. What about you? Wasn’t it so weird to see the baby?” You chuckle, taking a bite of your meal.
Suguru nods. “Yeah, a little. But if anything, it made everything feel a little more real. Like…my child is in there. And before we know it we’ll be holding them.” He shakes his head, eyes roaming your face. “Makes me wonder what they’ll be like…what they’ll look like. Will they have my eyes? Your curls? Will they inherit either of our cursed techniques or one of their own? Or…” he swallows a piece of his burger, but you don’t miss the brief flash of bitterness on his face, disappearing as quickly as it came before he continues, “…what if they have cursed energy at all?”
Your stomach drops, and a wave of nauseousness washes over you. Of course he’s worried about that. Why wouldn’t he be? Cursed energy is everything to him. It’s what separates him, you, all Sorcerers from the rest of the world that he deems too unworthy to be in his presence. Why would he ever want a child that doesn’t have cursed energy?
“...does that make a difference?” You’re scared to ask, but you have to know. Will his child not having cursed energy be the catalyst of whatever this relationship between you two may end up being?
Suguru takes a while to answer. Probably longer than you would have liked. It makes your nerves worse, makes your lip quiver because you’re afraid. You’re so afraid that he’ll look you in the eye and say yes. Yes, it matters to him. Yes, it will make a difference to him whether his child has cursed energy or not. Maybe he won’t be involved if they don’t. And that hurts you more than anything. To think that Suguru may think your child is as worthless as any of the other non-Sorcerers he sees on the streets.
When Suguru finally meets your gaze, he has what looks like something similar to shame behind them.
“Can I be honest with you?” He asks, combing his fingers through his hair. That nervous tick that now you wish you weren’t so familiar with. But you nod anyway. You want to hear him out. “I…” He sighs. You can see the wheels turning in his head, and you know he’s trying to be careful about the words that come out of his mouth next. “I…can’t lie and say I wouldn’t be disappointed if they didn’t have cursed energy.”
You feel yourself deflate. Why was that even important? Why would that matter?
“But,” he interrupts your spiraling thoughts. “I wouldn’t love them any less, I don’t think. Honestly, it’s a confusing feeling. I should probably talk to my therapist about it.” He shrugs, like he didn’t just strap you into a rollercoaster and send you on one hell of an emotional ride.
“ I want to be there for this baby - for you - no matter what they turn out like.”
You want to cry, burst into tears right in the middle of this cafe. It’s the pregnancy hormones, you swear. It’s definitely the hormones that have you wanting to bawl your eyes out in front of this man and tell Suguru that after everything…after all the pain that you caused him…you’re so happy that he was able to forgive you, so relieved that he wants to be involved, so damn glad that he wants to love his baby. But you tuck away the hope that maybe he’d want to love you, too one day. Because…it’s the hormones talking.
You were so worried, and for nothing. For Suguru to bring up therapy at all regarding this topic. You know he’s taking this seriously. And all because he wants to be there for you and for the baby. You give him a soft smile, and he shyly returns it.
“I do have one thing I wanted to bring up.” He inhales deeply, steeling himself. “Are you alright with the twins knowing? They always did want a sibling.”
Your heart melts. It’s so sweet that he’d want the girls - his first daughters - to know about the baby on the way.
“Yes! Of course. We can talk about when’s a good time to tell them…”
And you do just that. You plan on when to tell Mimiko and Nanako. You talk about baby names. Does he prefer a boy or a girl? And as you would expect, he’s not picky. As long as they’re strong and healthy. He tells you he hopes they have your eyes - kind and gentle. And you tell him you hope they have his smile, the one you know is genuine. He wants them to have curly hair, just like you. And you want them to be as smart as their father.
It’s oddly domestic, sitting around in this cafe, planning for a baby with a man who just a few weeks ago, you weren’t sure you ever wanted to know about this. It’s warm, comfortable, even safe. But here you are…making it work.
-
You ascend the steps of Jujutsu High with Suguru in tow. He’s slowly following behind you, just in case you slip and fall back and he has to catch you.
“I read pregnancy throws your balance off quite a bit,” he’d told you when he insisted you walk ahead of him. Worry was etched heavily between his brows. You just couldn’t bring yourself to tell him no.
You’re kind of glad you listened, because you’re practically gasping for air the higher you go. Were there always so many damn stairs here? Why did they need this many steps? And was it always so hard for you to climb up them? Your body feels like you’re dragging a bag of weights attached to your legs, exhaustion slowing you down by the second.
“Fuck this,” you pant, hands on your hips as you pause to catch your breath.
Behind you, Suguru chuckles. He holds his arm out for you and you grab hold, happily letting him drag you the rest of the way.
When you reach the top, a tall figure is already waiting. His thick arms are folded across his chest, eyes taking in the scene between you and Suguru and you quickly separate.
“Principal Yaga,” you breathe, pretending as if you weren’t two seconds from passing out just a moment ago.
“What can we do for you?” Suguru questions, buying you some time to catch your breath again. He’s such a godsend.
“Nothing you can do, Suguru.” He juts his chin out, motioning at you. “I need you on a mission. Leaving tonight.”
“M–me?”
Yaga sighs, like it’s annoying him to repeat himself. And it probably is. “Yes.”
It’s mandatory. You can tell in his tone.
“...okay.”
You can see Suguru in your peripheral, head snapping towards you because what the absolute hell are you thinking taking a mission on in your condition?! But you haven’t told anyone outside of him and Shoko about the pregnancy. And Satoru apparently found out all on his own, that wasn’t your choice. You’re not ready to break the news to Yaga and have all eyes on you. Questions asked by your colleagues and your students, wondering who the father is. Then you’ll have to explain your situation with Suguru. And that’s opening a whole new can of worms.
It’s all things you’re just not ready to touch on yet.
And honestly, you’d rather figure out what your situation with Suguru even is before you let anyone else in on your condition. Are you together? Are you not together? Will you try dating? Maybe not? The situation is complicated. So you can’t turn down this mission. Not yet, at least. Besides, it’s still early enough in your pregnancy that you aren’t showing yet. You can get away with maybe just this one.
Though you’re not sure how you’re going to use your cursed technique when it knocked you unconscious the last time.
Suguru stands idly by, jaw clenched tight as Yaga gives you the briefest of details. He’s careful with what he says. You’re not sure if it’s because he doesn’t fully trust Suguru again yet. Or if it’s because Suguru is not assigned to this mission, so the less information he hears, the better–
“I’m going with her.”
Now your head snaps towards Suguru who is already staring down at you with determination in his eyes. Then his gaze is on Yaga’s.
“I’m going with her, if you’ll allow me, Principal Yaga.”
He’s asking, but like Yaga, it’s non-negotiable.
“Suguru…” Your voice is small, too scared to speak up and tell him it’s a bad idea. But you can see in the way he clenches his jaw, the way he balls his hands in fists, how his nostrils flare…he’s pissed.
It’s probably at you, your negligence in accepting the mission knowing that it’s dangerous and you’re with child - his child. But he holds it together, telling Principal Yaga that he’ll meet him in about 20 minutes after he packs his things. He wants to get more information about this mission that was just so important you had to be the one to go.
When you call after him, he doesn’t spare you a glance, his low voice sending a chill up your spine when he tells you once more, “I’m going.”
#jjk x black reader#jjk x y/n#getou suguru smut#getou suguru x y/n#jjk#getou x reader#jujutsu kaisen suguru#suguru geto fanfic#suguru geto fic#suguru x reader#anime smut#anime x black!reader#anime x reader#fanfic smut#fanfics#jjk x you#jjk x female reader#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#jujutsu kaisen x black reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk fanfic#getou x black reader#suguru geto x black reader#Suguru x black reader#geto x black reader#jujutsu kaisen x black fem reader
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I am jet-lagged and emotionally wrought, but nevertheless so fucking thrilled to have finally gotten the time to sit down and read this absolutely IMMACULATE chapter.
Hazel… I feel like I say this all the time, but how you manage to keep weaving this magnificent web of yours week after week is truly awe-inspiring. We’re getting close to the end, but you still make sure to impart as much emotional impact as possible. I believe this is the first time we ever got a solid block of Alastor’s POV, and if I’m being honest, idk if I would survive more 😭😂♥️
The mood of this chapter was so needed — they’ve been going through so much, and something was bound to snap. So to see them get closer on the other side is just so rewarding. I just want them to be happy god damn it! 🥲
I know you don’t typically foray into angst, but I’m not surprised you knocked it out of the park Hazel! I hope you’re just feeling more and more proud of yourself with each chapter! ♥️
✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧
Where had she walked in New Orleans? Where did she meet Alastor’s father? You had to wonder what he had looked like. Surely he was handsome. Was he kind to her, like Alastor was to you? Or had it been a one night stand?
A small smile, she didn’t look like the type but looks could be deceiving. Alastor didn’t look like the kind of man who kissed bloodied cheeks and tossed heads into holes.
ruminating on Alastor’s mom is gonna get me every fucking time tbh 😩 and the second part with Alastor’s deceiving looks… that pretty face and charm will take him everywhere!
You knew he wasn’t a virgin, and he’d mentioned before he’d been happily coupled with others before his preferences became their frustrations.
BABYYY OMG THIS WENT STRAIGHT THROUGH MY HEART 😩
Did they properly express their gratitude? Doubtful. How many times did he acquiesce to his partner’s wants and then be treated like it was the expectation and not an exception of his affections?
no one will care about him the way we care about him — it’s simply not possible
The closer you got, the more nervous you were to see him. Not knowing how he felt, be it angry or worried or a mix of the two, was doing you in.
imagining him angry is honestly so scary; my anxiety just ticked up 😩
From insulted to panicked, you realized you’d forgotten about your face. Pushing the heavy wooden door open to the bathroom, your reflection caught you off guard. Your eyes were encircled in black, scleras red, blush smeared into your hairline, and your lips were soft around the edges from misplaced lipstick. You looked like a wreck in human form.
HONESTLY MY WORST NIGHTMARE
With one more glance at your disheveled appearance you sheepishly returned to the entrance and peeked into the dining room again. Everyone was dressed so nicely. You could imagine Alastor fitting in quite well.
WHY DID THIS MAKE MY HEART CLENCH?? 😩♥️
“I thought you’d be more fatale and less femme. Anyways, your deadweight’s in the alley.”
MIMZYYYY!! tbh this is such a perfect introduction for her ❤️🔥
He turned, smiled, and rushed towards you. Taking your head in his hands he kissed you on the lips, and when you pulled back he leaned in, tongue pressing into your mouth.
BRUV WE ARE IN PUBLIC!!
Parks were different. Parks were made for such things.
not only for kisses 👀 hehehe
He was drunk. Completely smashed. Normally you wouldn’t care, drunk Alastor could be quite cute. But you’d been prepared for and in need of someone to talk to. Someone to ease the mess of feelings in your gut. Instead you were handed a job as caretaker and impromptu driver. You’d have to wait until the morning for any kind of sympathetic comfort.
the way I immediately feel the frustration and disappointment. he’s not even just drunk, but SLOPPILY so 😩
Alastor pulled his arm from your hold, “At that little park. Audubon.” He pointed west, saying it with a perfect accent. “Anyway, I’m gonna kill him. Maybe right now! Did I tell ya? I know where he lives.” He crossed the street without looking.
LET THE BABYSITTING COMMENCE 🫠
“Alastor, yes. He’s got two kids, a wife. He stays out late, obsessin’ over us no doubt.”
my cortisol has spiked, but there’s something about this line that just makes me smile 😂🙈
“Who are you to stop me? To tell me,” a pause as he lost his balance and leaned too far to the right, catching himself with a sneer to his own legs. He turned back and continued on his way, “what I can and cannot do.” You stopped. The sound of his mother’s shoes no longer snapping behind him made Alastor pause his clumsy march and look back at you. “Are ya really not comin’?” His sharp tone had shifted down to a whiny, almost pleading one.
so much here… the hurt from his words, but also just how clearly we can see that he’s barely keeping it together. wonderfully executed, my love 🥹♥️
Hiding yourself from him felt like betrayal, so you’d abandoned it some time ago. Your chin quivered, hands gripping the sides of your dress in stress. Your eyes were pleading with him to not do this. To not throw you away so easily. Diminish you with one slurred sentence. It felt like a dare to your pride. A choice, your self respect or his attention. It was a rhetorical question, as the answer would be a revelation to an entirely different quandary.
UGHHHH IT HURTS SO GOOD!! he really is coming off as so callous right now — it’s brutal 😩
Alastor stared you down, his height finally mattering in a way you didn’t like.
SHIVERS
The only way he could ever truly hurt you was with that cutting muscle behind his teeth.
HAZEL OH MY GODDDD 😭🫠
Turning around, you walked the way you’d both just come because truth be told you had no idea how to get home from where you were. You just needed to get away from him before you said something you didn’t mean. Before he said something you couldn’t forget.
as heartbreaking as this is, I admire that Autumn is walking away before it gets worse and not like~ digging in from the pain. i don’t know that i’d be that strong 😭
You’d barely gotten five steps when you heard a clank to the ground. Turning just enough to see behind you, you noticed the car door key on the sidewalk. Alastor’s grin wide and childlike.
BITCH!! 😭
He slumped against the passenger side window the entire car ride home. You struggled with the shifting stick, and he didn’t offer any help. A petulant brat pouting into the glass.
tbh nothing I hate more than a tense car ride… ALASTOR GOD DAMN IT!! 😩
“Suit yourself. I don’t have patience for this, Alastor. You’re acting like a brat when I’m the one who had the hard night.” You turned to go upstairs before coming back, something your mother always did in arguments that you hated, “And I really don’t appreciate the way you’re treating me. We’ll talk in the morning.”
THE TURNING BACK IS ALWAYS SUCH A KNIFE IN THE GUT
It wasn’t until you were under the covers, alone, did you begin to cry. It was mostly anger, if you were honest. But a good dose of self pity mixed in. Practically running to find him, after thinking about just him for hours before, and to be met with a drunken child was disappointing beyond measure. And the disrespect of tossing his keys…
THE KEYS!!! IT WAS SUCH A SLAP IN THE FACE!! 😩
You could remember the uneasy feeling you had when your mother would leave you with friends when she had work. How every inch moved felt like you were brushing into poison ivy, it wasn’t your space, you didn’t know the rules or the norms. Now you felt you no longer knew your place in Alastor’s home.
this is truly such a horrific feeling… i hate that we’ve all seemed to feel the sting of it 🥺
Which was fine, you lied to yourself. You just needed to know the parameters so you could stay within them. Not take things too seriously. Not expect too much from him.
Not give too much of yourself.
this is such a specific form of fear of rejection… I can relate only too well 😩
You couldn’t believe you had wanted to tell him you loved him. How long had you choked back those words for your own personal safety, just to be in a man’s home far from your own with no real way back.
I’M WRITHING OH MY GODDD THE HURT AND THE SHAMEEE WHYY??
A shiny and sunlit movie played of him slipping off your shoes and putting yours on his feet.
I am honestly never not thinking about the whole thing with the shoes…
Lying down again, you tried to take deep breaths. He’d said he wasn’t mad at you. Was he not allowed to make mistakes? Could he not be angry around you without you taking it personally even when he said it wasn't for you? That was unfair of you. You were expecting a drunk man to speak clearly and with well thought out perception of how he’d be heard. The reasons for his drunkenness were unknown, and when you stopped to consider things more, you’d never just out right told him how you felt. Until you were upset and going up the stairs. Admittedly, to your defense, he was very drunk.
this is genuinely one of the most emotional mature things I’ve ever read in my entire life — and something I’m gonna try to keep in mind the next time I’ve lost my temper
The idea of him waking up to an empty home and a migraine almost brought you back to tears. Alastor’s distaste for being alone had become clear, in the way he used to go out often just to have dance company, how he so quickly pulled you into his home and lap. You’d feel his heart break from across the river if you up and left while he slept.
and I’m full circle to wanting nothing more than to cuddle this man… Hazel I swear to fucking god 🫠♥️
The best way to find out if someone was worth trusting was to trust them. Alastor had been worth so much more than you’d expected a person could be. This was just a hiccup.
NO WORDS JUST MY HEART WEEPING
Alastor, what more could he do? What on earth could he possibly get away with? He had no interest in stepping out, and he couldn’t easily date when his hobbies and home were crime scenes.
GETTING BIG FEELINGS AGAIN FOR OUR LONELY, MURDEROUS BOY 🥺♥️
He would make it better. He would say whatever really happened in the morning and fix it. You could trust that and let your eyes finally close. Alastor hadn’t failed you yet, and you believed he wouldn’t start now.
Alastor, darling, for the love of god please I’m begging for clarification 😭
When you woke up, it was early. Unnaturally early for you. But stress did that. Whatever the opposite of Christmas morning, that was the mechanism pulling you out of bed as the sun was just beginning to rise.
BEEN THERE AND IT SUCKS
He was still asleep on the couch when you crept down the stairs. He looked like shit. Which made you feel a little good. If he looked perfect it’d be immensely dissatisfying.
this was such a glorious way to humanize our otherwise ethereal husband 🙏🏻✨
You heard the creak of the screen door and felt the old wood bend behind you as he finally stumbled out. He plopped down beside you, before lowering himself to his right side and resting his head on your lap. He stared out at the greenhouse like you did. Your hands twitched to touch him, but you kept them to your sides.
AUTUMN I TRULY ADMIRE YOUR STRENGTH
“You are my darling.” He said with a raspy voice hoarse from an intoxicated dehydration. You finally looked at him, but he didn’t meet the gaze. “That’s who you are.”
“You sure didn’t make me feel like your anything last night.” Your tone was cold and sharp, spoken like a stranger scolding another. Stay strong, you thought. Make him understand how he made you feel before, even if you were already cooling off.
You saw the fabric of your white slip turn a storm grey beneath his face, tears tumbling across the bridge of his nose before seeping into the night dress.
LIKE GENUINELY SO FUCKING STRONG — I WOULD HAVE FOLDED LIKE A WET NEWSPAPER JESUS CHRIST 😭
He nodded, slick and smooth face gliding over the silk. A sob, choked and broken as he buried his head again into your lap. “I’d never felt so helpless, I just…I responded very selfishly. I’m sorry.”
The heavy and hot indignation finally began to cool in you, and you let yourself run your fingers through his hair.
AHHHHH THIS IS PRECISELY WHAT I WANT: TO PET THIS SAD LITTLE MAN
You thought for a moment. The safety in Alastor’s killings were the degrees of separation between him and his targets. The plausible deniability. The lack of obvious motive. If you could find that same safety net when killing Brady, then, sure. “When he’s no longer a threat to us. When no one will be shocked to hear he’s dead.”
YOU BAD BITCH OMGGGG Kenneth must be feeling a chill down his spine as we speak!! 😂
“I’m beginning to think it doesn’t matter.” Alastor inched his body closer to you. “I’ve never been a bigger failure in all my life than last night. In every way. To myself and to you.” His head turned, the soft and sharp features alike of his face burying into your lap. A gentle shake of his shoulders as he lost his fight to not weep openly into you broke your heart. He let out a weak and muffled series of sounds, followed by a louder and clearer, “Do you want to leave me?”
I ACTUALLY CAN’T FUCKING HANDLE THIS. THE FACT THAT I CAN’T COMFORT HIM MYSELF IS A FUCKING CRIME!!
You pulled his head up by the back of his collar. With your first good look at him in the crisp orange morning light you could see his lips were red and raw from nervous chewing, his hair lacking its usual shine or form. The right side of his face was wet. Tears new and old began to reroute and slide down his high cheeks and pointed jaw. They met at the very bottom of his chin, for the first time in their short lives, and dropped onto you in little couplings. Falling like they were made to always do just that. Just now. Just for him. A fate you could understand so naturally it was bordering on unnerving. A love story you were sure you were playing out.
HAZEL SHAKESPEARE IS GETTING US GOOD Y’ALL HOW I’M STILL CONSCIOUS DEFIES SCIENCE
How rarely you’d seen a man cry. In the past perhaps you’d have been put off. Cringed. Considered it a pathetic show of weakness and lost respect for them. But all you could feel now was a pain so deep and all encompassing it felt as if your skin was cracking off. A dry river bed in the heat of summer. What had been there before? Disgust? Indifference? Even his tears were of a magnitude more important than anyone else’s. Every piece of him mattered more to you.
this whole paragraph is a baseball bat to my psyche
You were in that worst kind of love; Unconditional.
SLAP MY ASS AND CALL ME MEGARA
“Give me a little time. I’ll show you how stupid of a question that is over our first fight,” Your thumbs wiped away his tears. The handkerchief came back to view, so you gingerly took it and dabbed the sacred lacrima from his cheeks. You took his head between both hands and stared unflinching into the sweet, sun kissed brown of his eyes, “I never want to leave you. Even if I do, even if somehow I’m convinced to go, you’ll have to rip your heart out of my cold dead hands or I’ll take it with me.”
I’VE LOST ANY AND ALL ARTICULATION
Another torrent of tears from him and a reply so earnest and so sure your body leaned back with surprise, “But, it’s not mine anymore. Isn’t that obvious?” He half whispered it into the ether.
HAZEL PLEASE I’M SO WEAK IT’S TOO BEAUTIFUL OH MY GOD
“If you ever speak to me like you did last night again, with that sharp tone and cruel words, sober or not…” you trailed off, begging him to not make you say it. Don’t force you to make threats you didn’t want to keep. Things you’d be ashamed of not following through with. Little self failures you were genetically predisposed of committing.
“You can take my heart with you.”
AAAHHHHH I CAN’T BELIEVE I GET A SECOND DOSE OF THIS THROUGH ALASTOR’S POV — I am floundering and grateful all at once 😩♥️
- — - — - — - — -
A trickle of fear dropped down his spine. Worst case scenario didn’t quite exist as some ladder of concerns, he just felt tremendous fear you were dead. That was the only rung. Had someone been watching you, that he didn’t notice as he was too preoccupied with watching Brady?
ALASTORRR I’m not strong enough for this!! 😭♥️
Alastor didn’t move. Hand still in the air between them. Johnny registered the distinct lack of light in Alastor’s eyes. He took a deep breath in, Alastor looked like a photograph of a man before him. There but, just a facsimile of human.
he’s in such disbelief omggg 🥺 this paints such a visual!!
Alastor’s mouth opened and then closed. He swallowed, then smiled, and his head did a little tilt. Ruth looked from him to Johnny. Alastor’s rolodex of canned responses spun infinitely around in his mind. Nothing was catching. There wasn’t a facial expression or comment or body posture in existence he had prepared for this conversation. Because he hadn’t ever predicted such a situation.
baby got the rug pulled out from under his feet 😭
The man he punched? What was his name again? No. He didn’t know where you worked. He didn’t know your name.
William, for good measure, my darling buck
He was in disarray, a tremble in his hands making him pause and stare at his own body with a loss of recognition.
I love how he’s so immediately ready to pay whatever price while he’s literally floating away from himself… THE WAY YOU MAKE ME LOVE THIS MAN 🥲
“Hey, I was there that night you cornered Tommy into the booth. I saw you two. The night he hit her. Tommy was a real piece of shit. And I’m glad he’s gone.”
JOHNNY!! 😭😭😭
“Well, go have a drink, try to just… try to stay calm.” Ruth’s words barely entered his mind as he stumbled out into the night. Thoughts came so quickly and in such a multitude that Alastor found his head entirely empty, unable to latch onto any single one.
he’s in such shock; I know we’re going through it with Kenneth but damn this is pulling at my heartstrings 🥺
Long fingers gripped the steering wheel, knuckles an uncomfortable white with the force. How much would it take to snap the wheel? Had anyone ever tried before?
blacking out on the drive and now just so fucking angry… he really knows how to get me scared (for him) 😭
There was no fear you’d say anything. It simply didn’t exist. Even trying to conjure the idea of you telling anyone who he was and what he did was ridiculous to him. A dark part of him knew that notion was born out of a blinding fear and not out of true trust. Because if you did such a thing, it’d mean he’d been wrong about everything. That he couldn’t trust his own decisions anymore. What would he do if you did confess?
WHY ARE THEY SO SIMILAR AND SO NERVOUS ABOUT COMMUNICATING?? 🥲
Alastor made a beeline for the bathrooms just past the entrance of the Grano D'oro. His hair was mussed, his pupils constricted. He drew his bottom lip in and began chewing it nervously, hands pushing his hair back into some form of style. A cough to clear out his tightening throat, he straightened his bow tie and suit jacket. Staring at his reflection, he flinched. An unsettling feeling in his bones that if he stared long enough, it would take on a life of its own.
THE PARALLEL WITH BEING A MESS IN THE BATHROOM AHHHH!!!
Alastor offered passing pleasantries to a few people and smiled as he was escorted past them to the private dining section of Grano D'oro.
picturing him going through the motions is honestly so painful 🥺
Through the kitchen, with a smile and another nod to the staff who all sang his name as he walked by, Alastor made it to the barely visible door to the side.
but I am absolutely not surprised the kitchen staff adores him 🥹
“Little late for you isn’t it? Shouldn’t you be at home with your heart.” She dragged out the word, eyes rolling not at the idea of you but at the idea of someone being more important than a night out.
THIS IS SO FUCKING LOADED — HOW MANY TIMES HAS HE COME TO MIMZY TO TALK ABOUT READER AAAAHHHH!!!
“Oh fuck.” Mimzy added two more fingers to the glass. “What for?”
this feels very me for some reason lmao
Nervously he chewed on his bottom lip, biting red lines into the soft pink flesh. Mimzy stared, unnoticed. She couldn’t remember the last time he looked sad. He did sometimes open up when drunk, perhaps smiling through a pitiful story. Or dancing when she knew he was bruised in either his ego or his heart. But, normally, for Alastor, he kept the obvious and plain emotions kept tightly buttoned up.
I LOVE THEIR FRIENDSHIP SO MUCH — the way she sees him is just… I can’t put it into words!
“And you can’t just,�� she made a fist with her thumb stuck out and dragged it across her neck in a cutting motion, “get rid of the issue?”
Mimzy you rascal!!
Killing Brady would solve everything. And it’d feel good. It’d feel….ah, he leaned back, letting his chest open and fill with the shadow of satisfaction, it’d be the best kill yet. How would he do it, he wondered. It’d have to be special. Slow. Perhaps even over the course of days. Oh, or better yet, perhaps he could show Brady exactly how he disposed of his targets. Piece by piece, taking from him and letting him watch as he buried his parts in deep holes. Giving him all the answers to his questions before snuffing out his nagging life.
as much as I belittle Kenneth, I am no match for the way Alastor wants to belittle Kenneth
No one would believe Brady, he considered. If someone pulled him back into the shadows of his tree lined street with a blade to his throat and gave him the warning of what was to come if he kept this up….Did he have any allies in this at work?
MUAHAHAHAHA I LOVE ME SOME PARANOID KENNETH! Go get him honey 😂❤️🔥😈
In fact, as he took a slower sip of his somehow still full glass, he thought she was quite right. Brady was testing his pride. Hurting the closest person he had to get at him. This was villain activity.
I just love the irony of Kenneth “Clutching Pearls” Brady being painted A VILLAIN (and it’s not untrue)
Either Brady thought Alastor was all bark and no bite, only attacking men alone at night, or, worse, he thought Alastor was using you.
I can’t lie, his masculine pride is really doing something for me lmao
“Don’t try to distract me. I’m in no mood for such trivial things, Mimz. My love was arrested. At work no less. I’m useless.”
ALASTORRRR I CAN’T WITH YOU SAYING THIS SO CASUALLY!!
You looked different than she’d expected. She wasn’t really sure what she was expecting…actually, on second thought, she had just imagined a female Alastor. Alastor with a perm and an empire waist dress. A little out of fashion but classy.
why is this so endearing to me? 😭♥️
He’d translate his determination into lavishing you. When you made a yelp and pushed him away, he was confused. Why weren’t you happy to see him?
and the miscommunication begins 😭🙈
Your breath against his body when you and him first entertained affection came to his mind so intensely he thought maybe he had been pulled back in time.
HEHEHE Alastor I was thinking the same thing earlier 👀
Brady had done this. You’d never– He was just trying to clean up his mess. Why did people think they could dictate his life so freely? Why did what he wanted to do not matter, even though he was just trying to be a good man?
I know it’s drunk brain, but I’m so sad that he’s so quick to believe we would buy into some BS from KENNETH FUCKING BRADY 😭
Alastor paused to stare down at his legs. Et tu, crura? Even his own body was betraying him.
An ‘et tu’ will always get me good but this is also just so adorable to me how offended he is by losing his balance 😂♥️
What an odd question. Had you used your stage name so long you’d forgotten your true one. He laughed, what a silly thing to ask! “Now who is drunk?”
omggg he really didn’t realize what else came out of his mouth!! 😭
Your turning and walking back forward the restaurant made his eyes roll. Oh, the keys still. He pulled them from his pocket, fine, have them. I give up. Failure pile growin’ every minute.
Reminder that pity parties are not cute — our guy fucked 👏🏻 up 👏🏻
But when you turned around, he could feel the rage rolling off of your body. Alastor couldn’t pinpoint what it was about your face that was different than usual, but just beneath your skin he could see a you he’d never met before. One he didn’t care to meet.
case in point 🫠
The pain behind his sternum was akin to a splintering rod; stiff, solid, and biting every time he moved. No one had ever made him feel this way before. He couldn’t put his finger on the feeling though, it was sadness, and it hurt, but there was something deeper. Something underneath these shallow reactions that dredged up a vague sense of mourning.
oh darling your drunk brain got you so focused on the wrong thing 😭
He slammed the car door behind him and fell into the sofa as soon as he could. Nothing went right. The day had started so wonderfully… you’d felt like a part of himself he’d finally found. And now….
SOBBING
He thought it and immediately winced. Not alone alone. Please, if anyone had been listening, please disregard it. That wasn’t what he wanted. He didn’t mean that at all.
HE CAN’T BE ALONE AND I’LL NEVER BE OKAY ABOUT IT
His thoughts and the room were liquid and floating up into the atmosphere. Alastor was confident he would follow them up.
we all float here Alastor 😂🎈
Patience… there it was. You’d lost patience with him. And you’d been so patient for months now. Waiting in bars and cars while he killed. Waiting for him while he threw body parts into holes and snapping jaws. Waiting for weeks beside him for inspiration to strike and for him to seek your intimacy in more serious touch.
I thought I’d be okay in the second round but IT HURTS EVEN MORE??
The yellow pillow was pulled to his face to muffle his scream.
this being one of his coping mechanisms when he feels embarrassed/ashamed of himself just… really cuts through me for some reason. There’s an innocence to it that just makes my heart swell 😭♥️
For all he knew, you’d made up your mind already. How odd. He himself was the cat in the box. He could already be dead and not even know it.
WE GET LATIN AND SCHRÖDINGER’S CAT ALL IN ONE CHAPTER?? IT MUST BE CHRISTMAS
The handle of your bag peeking out from under the dresser. It had been in the closet, he had emptied it and put it there for you so he knew that to be a fact.
OH GOD OF COURSE HE WOULD NOTICE THE BAG
He couldn’t find the courage to check. Rushing past it like it could come to life and grab him by the ankles, he went to the nightstand beside his side of the bed and opened the drawer, the bright yellow of your handkerchief calming him just a sliver. If he kept it, you’d have to come back. He could call you and remind you to come back for it. And then he could convince you to stay. His mother always said he was good with words. If you forgot it at his house when you left he’d have a way to bring you home again. Fresh tears welled, the backs of his hands smearing them into his hairline.
I AM A WRITHING FUCKING MESS ON THE FLOOR!! HAZEL!! 😩😭
Sitting on the second to last step of the house, he took a moment to collect himself. Being so frazzled, so undone, wasn’t like him. That foreignness just added to the panic. Bringing a hand to his chest, he opened his shirt to run his fingers down his sternum and to the left. A beating heart, evidence he was the survivor in every encounter he’d been in. But now, half a house between your and his back, why did he feel the most in danger? Rarely did fight or flight kick in, the last time he felt it was rolling around with that man who’d tried to choke the life out of you.
No strange man here now. Just strange feelings.
Hazel I actually really fucking can’t with you right now… ♥️
If you didn’t accept it….Alastor had never begged a day in his life, but he could see himself begging you to stay. Perhaps hugging your ankles and promising things he didn’t have. There was no longer an impossibility in what he would do, which was alarming. The idea of him being so pathetic and pitiful was nauseating, however there was no one and nothing that could stop that if you got up and left.
OH MY GODDDDD
But that was what made you worth the risk. It began as entertainment, but soon enough the dome of your stage extended out and around him, sheltering Alastor in the warm light of your presence. And now as he looked around the railing of his stairs, he was scared to see the exit lights flicker on.
AAAAAHHHH!!!! AAAHHHHH!!!!!! I AM A MESS!!! AAAHHH!!!
And he’d made you feel like nothing to him. The mountain of derelictions crumbled under the weight of perhaps his biggest failure of the evening, an avalanche of embarrassment and shame washed over him and he didn’t try to impede his tears. Men were only supposed to cry on their wedding day and at funerals, but he supposed this day could still go either way. Could still be as pivotal to his happiness.
ahhhh you’ve gone with the baseball bat again, I see. Excellent choice, my love 🫠
‘I’m sorry’ was just crystals of salt dropped in the gulf.
HAZEL!!! I CAN’T!!!
“I’m beginning to think it doesn’t matter.” He pulled himself closer again. Brady was nothing compared to the threat of losing you. “I’ve never been a bigger failure in all my life than last night. In every way. To myself and to you.” What a joke he was. How high and mighty and curated he tried to be that he forgot the point of it. A shield he turned to you was just a barrier between what he desperately wanted by his side. His tears returned with renewed vigor, the complete breakdown of his manicured image was a tell tale heart he couldn’t smile away anymore, the greatest weakness he was never so happy to call his own. Muffled by your clothing and inviting lap, “I just love you so much…” he choked and then sucked in a deep breath to try and get control of himself, shifting his face to the side again to watch your face for an immediate reaction to his question, “Do you want to leave me?”
A MUTTERED CONFESSION!!! YOU KNOW WHAT HAZEL YOU WIN THE WAR OKAY?? MY CASTLE HAS BEEN SUFFICIENTLY PLUNDERED AND YOU CAN RULE OVER MY SOUL AND DOMAIN AS YOU PLEASE — I WAS A FOOL TO EVER KEEP UP THE FIGHT!
He couldn’t promise himself he wouldn’t keep that little yellow fabric in his hands even after you parted, but he could swear to not try and guilt you back into his arms.
I really don’t know how I’ve made it this far… I’m being pummeled into DUST
Take his heart back? His mind finally processed the words. It was yours. The morning had proved to him he couldn’t claw it back if he truly wanted, and if he was further honest with himself, he didn’t want it. It was better off with you. He felt the air cooling the once body-warm tears, he whispered what he felt was too vulnerable to say at full volume, “But, it’s not mine anymore. Isn’t that obvious?” His eyes looked down at your feet pointed in towards his own. Was this pathetic display not making it glaringly evident he was a man turned inside out? Guts in his hands and heart in yours?
transforming from dust into vapor…
His body was a tool, and he’d use every tool he had available to make you understand what you meant to him. Would you feel different now, now that he knew you loved him? Would he find your body warmer, more inviting… Could he make you scream your love for him?
Later, he would have to bookmark that idea. The confession was too fragile still, a crystal figurine too precious to even take out of the box.
AND THEN YOU END THIS FUCKING MASTERPIECE WITH TWO PARAGRAPHS THAT MAKE ME WANT TO FLING MYSELF INTO THE OCEAN (AFFECTIONATE)
A Doe in Fall (Part 13)
⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall
A burlesquer with a penchant for conning men, you find your latest game interrupted when your next mark saves you from an aggressive fan— by killing him. The chance encounter left you curious, still half convinced you could complete your normal chase. Unbeknownst to you, you were the one being tracked.
Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦 Part 8 - Trust sexual 🥵 Part 9 - Shiny Things Part 10 - Good Deeds Part 11 - Caught Part 12 - Eddie Part 13 - The Release 📍
Late? Yes. Buuuuut
If ya missed it:
Oct 19th Kinktober Day 19 - Proffer smut💦 Oct 13th Kinktober Day 13 - Handled smut💦
Where we left off: Autumn got released from the station to learn Alastor is at an unknown place called the Golden Dish.
Part 13 The Release
Two idiots meet on a sidewalk, one is drunk and one is stressed. Angst ensues. First Half is reader’s POV, second is Alastor’s POV.
「Warnings/Promises: Human Alastor x Fem!Reader, two parts in one, still not smut cuz we’re waiting for the special moment, surprise Latin, Alastor drunkenly remembers his accent, angst, first fights, muffled confessions, bare feet, too much alcohol, Mimzy is her own tag, I promise she’ll be back」
MDNI 🥃 😵💫
The Release (Autumn)
Your relief Alastor wasn’t there was clouded by the slight hurt Alastor wasn’t there.
Any ability to mask your true feelings left you with the exhaustion of being arrested at work, in front of customers and companions alike. This was made obvious by Johnny’s slight pat to your shoulder, “Want me to walk you there?”
You shook your head. Everyone already knew too much.
“It’s not too far, I think… I’ll be fine.” You could imagine Alastor’s panicked face. Had you ever actually seen it though?
With a wave, you left Johnny and began the walk to, presumably, the Golden Dish. It was cold, already the night bringing a chill. Eyes to your feet, you realized you were still in her shoes.
Where had she walked in New Orleans? Where did she meet Alastor’s father? You had to wonder what he had looked like. Surely he was handsome. Was he kind to her, like Alastor was to you? Or had it been a one night stand?
A small smile, she didn’t look like the type but looks could be deceiving. Alastor didn’t look like the kind of man who kissed bloodied cheeks and tossed heads into holes.
Flipping the card over again, you lifted it to the light.
Tentatively you brought it to your nose and gave it a sniff. No perfume.
The list of possibilities ran wild.
You knew he wasn’t a virgin, and he’d mentioned before he’d been happily coupled with others before his preferences became their frustrations. But you’d never stopped to really imagine it past a fleeting image. Alastor kissing someone else. Alastor going down on someone else. Did he enjoy it as much as he enjoyed you?
It wasn’t necessarily jealousy, but your stomach did a little flip. Did they properly express their gratitude? Doubtful. How many times did he acquiesce to his partner’s wants and then be treated like it was the expectation and not an exception of his affections?
It wasn’t as late as you had thought and the streets were busy. It made you feel a little safer. Not having a purse helped that.
You weren’t entirely sure where Rosseau was, and after stopping a very lovely looking couple, you got hastily pointed toward the water. Anxiously, you kicked up your pace. The closer you got, the more nervous you were to see him. Not knowing how he felt, be it angry or worried or a mix of the two, was doing you in. Turning left, you practically jogged down the street in search of The Golden Dish.
On the first pass, you didn’t find it. You crossed the street and tried again, getting more of the buildings into sight. Nothing.
Crossing back, you found the door with a shiny golden number three.
The restaurant looked nice, but it wasn’t the Golden Dish. The name above the door was Grano D'oro.
You leaned into the alley, hoping maybe there was a man waiting with a secret door. It was pristine; no men, no trash, no mystery liquids.
Taking a moment to smooth your hair and adjust your dress, you walked in.
The entrance was lavish, the floor a black and white marble and fixtures that shined like gold. A man stood behind a host stand, looking at you expectantly. When you were within a few feet, he asked if you had a reservation.
“Uh, no. I’m looking for Alastor.”
“Does Alastor have a reservation?” He looked down, presumably at a paper of names, and then back up at you.
You looked past the parted red curtains into the dining room. “I don’t think so…ah! I have a card.” You handed it over and he gave it a look, flipping it over before nodding. “Just a moment, miss. Please wait here. You’re welcome to use the ladies room to clean up.”
From insulted to panicked, you realized you’d forgotten about your face. Pushing the heavy wooden door open to the bathroom, your reflection caught you off guard. Your eyes were encircled in black, scleras red, blush smeared into your hairline, and your lips were soft around the edges from misplaced lipstick. You looked like a wreck in human form.
“Fuck fuck fuck fuck,” you grabbed a tissue from the nearest stall and wetted it under the faucet, removing every bit of make up you could. The skin under your eyelashes still had a darkness to them and nothing could be done for the bloodshot eyes, but you let that go. You did away with the lipstick entirely, and most of the blush was out of your hair and off your cheeks. Now you just looked tired.
Mortified, you remembered the couple you’d stopped and asked for directions from. They must have thought you’d had a fight or were some loon. Hell, maybe that was why no one stopped to bother you.
With one more glance at your disheveled appearance you sheepishly returned to the entrance and peeked into the dining room again. Everyone was dressed so nicely. You could imagine Alastor fitting in quite well. The host returned, not saying a word and sans Alastor. Before you could find the courage to ask him anything, a hand smacked your arm from behind.
“I thought you’d be more fatale and less femme. Anyways, your deadweight’s in the alley.”
A small woman with bleach blonde hair had snuck up behind you, seemingly from the outside, “He’s got his card back. He’s your problem now!”
She brushed past you and disappeared into the restaurant.
“Have a nice evening.” The host dismissed you. A confused pause, the series of events had been so fast you were left quite literally spun around.
When you tentatively turned back to leave, you saw Alastor stumbling onto the sidewalk.
“Hey! Alastor.” You half shouted, Alastor seemingly unaware of his surroundings. Apparent in how he nearly collided into a group passing the restaurant.
He turned, smiled, and rushed towards you. Taking your head in his hands he kissed you on the lips, and when you pulled back he leaned in, tongue pressing into your mouth.
You screamed into his mouth, pushing him off. Looking back briefly before dragging him away, you saw the host staring at you through the clear windowed door. He was not impressed. As much as you enjoyed his kisses, it was out of character and out of class to make out on the sidewalk.
Parks were different. Parks were made for such things.
“What has gotten into you? You taste like a fucking distillery.” You reached the corner of the street and stopped, “Where’s your car?”
He was drunk. Completely smashed. Normally you wouldn’t care, drunk Alastor could be quite cute. But you’d been prepared for and in need of someone to talk to. Someone to ease the mess of feelings in your gut. Instead you were handed a job as caretaker and impromptu driver. You’d have to wait until the morning for any kind of sympathetic comfort.
He hadn’t even mentioned the arrest yet or asked you how you were. Yes, he looked elated to see you. Eyes wide and adoring when he took you by the face. But you needed more than adoration now. And instead you had a mess of a man struggling to maintain his balance.
On the safety of his porch, or perhaps together at a bar, it’d be just fine.
But this was neither safe nor fine.
Alastor pulled his arm from your hold, “At that little park. Audubon.” He pointed west, saying it with a perfect accent. “Anyway, I’m gonna kill him. Maybe right now! Did I tell ya? I know where he lives.” He crossed the street without looking.
You had to run to catch up to him, his long legs carrying him further and faster than you. It took a second to understand who he was talking about, clearly he’d been having a silent conversation until now. “Alastor. You’re drunk. No.” You managed to get in front of him, eyes surely begging.
“Alastor, yes. He’s got two kids, a wife. He stays out late, obsessin’ over us no doubt.”
“Alastor!” He stumbled past you and toward the park. “Hey. You can’t-,”
He wheeled around on his heels, hand pointing a sharp finger at you.
“Who are you to stop me? To tell me,” a pause as he lost his balance and leaned too far to the right, catching himself with a sneer to his own legs. He turned back and continued on his way, “what I can and cannot do.” You stopped. The sound of his mother’s shoes no longer snapping behind him made Alastor pause his clumsy march and look back at you. “Are ya really not comin’?” His sharp tone had shifted down to a whiny, almost pleading one.
“Who am I, Alastor?” In the past you’d try to hide when you were wounded, as prey animals often do. But you were different from who you were before. Already, you were changed. Hiding yourself from him felt like betrayal, so you’d abandoned it some time ago. Your chin quivered, hands gripping the sides of your dress in stress. Your eyes were pleading with him to not do this. To not throw you away so easily. Diminish you with one slurred sentence. It felt like a dare to your pride. A choice, your self respect or his attention. It was a rhetorical question, as the answer would be a revelation to an entirely different quandary.
He laughed, “Now who’s drunk?” Your arms crossed your chest and your eyes narrowed further into slits.
“I thought you’d stop if I asked. I thought I was your equal in this.”
“Well!” He gawked, “This is different. He isn’t like the others. Mister Detective Kenneth Brady is-,” he practically yelled it into the night.
“Shhh!” You hissed, a couple crossing the street to put distance between you both and themselves, “Give me your key. You can’t drive like this.”
Alastor stared you down, his height finally mattering in a way you didn’t like.
Your eyes narrowed further, Alastor. Unspoken and yet screamed across the sidewalk. You weren’t scared of him, of his height or his sharp eyes or the fact you knew he so often carried a knife beneath his vest. No. Because he was a smart man and a smart man would never be so stupid as to physically harm you. Not unless he planned to kill you. And Alastor wouldn’t do that unless you were honestly bad.
The only way he could ever truly hurt you was with that cutting muscle behind his teeth.
He tried to straighten his back to gather some kind of dignity and perhaps a show of dominance but stumbled backwards. He caught himself again with the brick wall beside him.
Mind racing, you had to think of alternatives. Fight him for the keys? Cut into his tires? Just leave him to his own selfish devices?
He could afford to fix the rubber tires, you thought. You couldn’t afford him running off the road.
“If you want me to come with you, I am driving. Make your decision now.” You put your hand out, an indication there was only one answer you expected. When his eyes flitted from your palm to your face and stared blankly, you closed it. “I won’t let a man waste my time when I’m just trying to help him. You’ve got me confused with someone else.”
Turning around, you walked the way you’d both just come because truth be told you had no idea how to get home from where you were. You just needed to get away from him before you said something you didn’t mean. Before he said something you couldn’t forget.
You’d barely gotten five steps when you heard a clank to the ground. Turning just enough to see behind you, you noticed the car door key on the sidewalk. Alastor’s grin wide and childlike.
Never had you felt true anger for him before. The water rising in your chest raged against your ribs and you were sure you’d drown in your own fury before long. Another second of imagined possibilities — kick them into the storm drain, throw them into a bush, take them and leave entirely.
Before you could pick one he stumbled over while bent in half the entire time, scooping the keys and holding them out for you to take.
A list of names flew over your tongue but stayed behind your clenched teeth, snatching the keys from his hand and leaving him to struggle behind you.
The walk was silent, Alastor several paces behind you with his hands in his pockets.
He slumped against the passenger side window the entire car ride home. You struggled with the shifting stick, and he didn’t offer any help. A petulant brat pouting into the glass.
As soon as you’d gotten into the house Alastor made a sloppy beeline to the sofa and fell face first.
“You’re mad at me.” You said from the doorway, dropping his keys into the bowl beside the door. It felt odd, you were the one who had every right to be pissed. But he was showing it in a much more egregious way. His anger made the least sense to you.
“No. I’m mad.” He grabbed a pillow and tucked it under his head. “Full stop.”
Obviously, but why? Not an ounce of compassion could be managed for you? When you were the one who’d been humiliated and dragged from your place of work in handcuffs?
“You’re acting like a child. Go to your bed. I’ll sleep here.” Sleeping alone in his bed didn’t seem right.
“You’re talkin’ to me like a child.” He closed his eyes, apparently in a fake sleep.
“You really don’t see the connection between those two things?? Atleast— go to the guest bed.” His mother’s old room. You absolutely didn’t want to sleep there.
“No.” He didn’t look at you.
You stared for a moment, disbelief painted on your face as your own frustration swelled again.
“Suit yourself. I don’t have patience for this, Alastor. You’re acting like a brat when I’m the one who had the hard night.” You turned to go upstairs before coming back, something your mother always did in arguments that you hated, “And I really don’t appreciate the way you’re treating me. We’ll talk in the morning.”
He didn’t even stir.
After placing his mother’s shoes at the end of the bed, you got undressed and properly washed your face. It wasn’t until you were under the covers, alone, did you begin to cry. It was mostly anger, if you were honest. But a good dose of self pity mixed in. Practically running to find him, after thinking about just him for hours before, and to be met with a drunken child was disappointing beyond measure. And the disrespect of tossing his keys…
The bed felt so big and so foreign now. Just sitting in it made you feel like shit. A stranger, unwanted in someone else’s home. You could remember the uneasy feeling you had when your mother would leave you with friends when she had work. How every inch moved felt like you were brushing into poison ivy, it wasn’t your space, you didn’t know the rules or the norms. Now you felt you no longer knew your place in Alastor’s home.
If you weren’t scared you’d never see him again you’d have just walked the several hours home. Knees to your chin, you didn’t bother with wiping away your tears. It added to the wallowing you were experiencing.
What did he mean? Why would he say it like that? Had it been a lie the whole time, that he’d stop killing if you asked him to? Alastor had never hissed quite like he had then.
It felt like a lie, and now you questioned everything. Maybe while you worked he was out killing people. You never pushed him much about what he did while you were away.
A secondary thought simultaneously played with that one. No, you’d have noticed him at night taking care of the body. Your face slipped past your knees and pressed into the tops of your thighs, as quickly as the fear receded your melancholy swept back in.
Fine, but if he lied about stopping then you didn’t mean as much as he claimed.
Which was fine, you lied to yourself. You just needed to know the parameters so you could stay within them. Not take things too seriously. Not expect too much from him.
Not give too much of yourself.
A second wave of tears, chin trembling.
Idiot.
Maybe Brady had been right. Were you just some dumb dame? You’d done so much for him and now with some liquor you were just another person to him.
Then a sickening feeling made your throat tighten. Had getting arrested made you no longer attractive? Perhaps he blamed you. Being publicly dragged into a police station was the closest he had ever been to being found out and it was your fault. Fuck, even his name. That had been you who said it so casually.
You didn’t want to be somewhere you weren’t welcomed.
Slipping out of bed, you pulled your bag from the closet and sat it on the dresser.
You couldn’t believe you had wanted to tell him you loved him. How long had you choked back those words for your own personal safety, just to be in a man’s home far from your own with no real way back. You pulled your dresses from the closet, and paused.
Alastor had been lovingly removing your stockings just a week or so ago.
After tossing innards into the water. He’d showed you where he buried the only evidence of his expansive crimes. He trusted you with things he’d never shown anyone, something you felt sure of given his freedom.
Glancing up through tear-heavy lashes, you saw your reflection in the mirror and remembered how he kissed your shoulder and undressed you. His promise to keep you warm.
A shiny and sunlit movie played of him slipping off your shoes and putting yours on his feet.
Your mother had always said you were too quick to give up when things didn’t come easy. You resented that, but now it was ringing painfully true.
You put the dresses back, tossing your bag to the floor and kicking it halfheartedly under the dresser.
Lying down again, you tried to take deep breaths. He’d said he wasn’t mad at you. Was he not allowed to make mistakes? Could he not be angry around you without you taking it personally even when he said it wasn't for you? That was unfair of you. You were expecting a drunk man to speak clearly and with well thought out perception of how he’d be heard. The reasons for his drunkenness were unknown, and when you stopped to consider things more, you’d never just out right told him how you felt. Until you were upset and going up the stairs. Admittedly, to your defense, he was very drunk.
He owed you an apology, that was absolutely expected given the way he’d spoken and tossed his keys, but he’d done enough to earn the right to explain himself before you just up and left in the middle of the night.
The idea of him waking up to an empty home and a migraine almost brought you back to tears. Alastor’s distaste for being alone had become clear, in the way he used to go out often just to have dance company, how he so quickly pulled you into his home and lap. You’d feel his heart break from across the river if you up and left while he slept.
Johnny had said he was a mess before, clearly he did care to some degree. You’d trusted him this long. You’d killed a man for him. You could give him a night to be an ass and hear him out in the morning.
But if he didn’t apologize, if he didn’t seem to understand how selfish and unkind he had been to you… You rolled onto your side and tried to straighten your legs but felt vulnerable like that. Pulling them up again you curled into a ball and focused on deep calming breaths. It would be fine. The best way to find out if someone was worth trusting was to trust them. Alastor had been worth so much more than you’d expected a person could be. This was just a hiccup.
Thinking back on past relationships, you realized most first fights were also your last fights. If you and someone had friction, it was easiest to walk away and try again. There was no expectation of a picture perfect romance, not at all. But once someone disappointed you, it was hard to see them again in a positive light. Throwing things away had always been simpler than putting in the work to fix them. Once you’ve done that, you’ve shown someone your hand. You’ve shown them they mattered and they could use that against you.
People who knew they were important to you could hold that over your head and push just how much they could get away with.
Alastor, what more could he do? What on earth could he possibly get away with? He had no interest in stepping out, and he couldn’t easily date when his hobbies and home were crime scenes.
The person with the most to lose was him, you realized. Maybe not lose you, you didn’t pretend you were that important to him. But his life away from iron bars and cuffs was now dependent on you. If he had always been a few too many drinks away from fucking that all up, he’d have been caught a long time ago.
He would make it better. He would say whatever really happened in the morning and fix it. You could trust that and let your eyes finally close. Alastor hadn’t failed you yet, and you believed he wouldn’t start now.
When you woke up, it was early. Unnaturally early for you. But stress did that. Whatever the opposite of Christmas morning, that was the mechanism pulling you out of bed as the sun was just beginning to rise.
He was still asleep on the couch when you crept down the stairs. He looked like shit. Which made you feel a little good. If he looked perfect it’d be immensely dissatisfying. You tried to open the back door quietly but the old hinges whined and the swollen wooden door snapped against the frame when you let it go.
Sitting on the top of the porch steps that led to the backyard, if you could call such an expanse that, you tried to take in the wet cool air. It was officially fall. Soon you’d have to pull out your coat. Your toes wiggled against the flaking paint of the steps, you still needed to go home and get your shoes.
A groan and you doubled over, you were assuming so confidently that you’d still be staying with Alastor. That was a good thing, right? Or…. you weren’t sure. You had no healthy relationships to look to for guidance. Rolling your back up, you looked up at the dark cobalt sky fading into baby blue, a color that matched the ceiling of the porch above you.
You heard the creak of the screen door and felt the old wood bend behind you as he finally stumbled out. He plopped down beside you, before lowering himself to his right side and resting his head on your lap. He stared out at the greenhouse like you did. Your hands twitched to touch him, but you kept them to your sides.
“You are my darling.” He said with a raspy voice hoarse from an intoxicated dehydration. You finally looked at him, but he didn’t meet the gaze. “That’s who you are.”
“You sure didn’t make me feel like your anything last night.” Your tone was cold and sharp, spoken like a stranger scolding another. Stay strong, you thought. Make him understand how he made you feel before, even if you were already cooling off.
You saw the fabric of your white slip turn a storm grey beneath his face, tears tumbling across the bridge of his nose before seeping into the night dress.
“I know. I’m sorry. I was so,” he sighed and you took your opportunity.
“Drunk.”
“Enraged.” He whined, eyelids coming to act as a poor dam, “And drunk.”
“And disrespectful.”
He groaned now, shoulders tightening in shame, “That too.”
You understood he was angry. Did he think you weren’t? You’d been humiliated. You’d been interrogated.
“I want to split his skull with an ax.” His fingers were playing with something beneath his closed thighs, hands pressed between them. “I’m sorry. I— you were not wrong.” You caught a glimpse of the bright yellow handkerchief being wrung between sweaty palms with nervous fingers when he finally opened his legs. “I didn’t know what to do with myself when your manager said you’d been arrested. I almost drove my car into the station doors.”
“So getting zozzled and shouting the personal details of a New Orleans detective into the night seemed… the better option? When I had already had a difficult evening?” You felt a flame in your chest again. “When I needed your support? Comfort?”
He nodded, slick and smooth face gliding over the silk. A sob, choked and broken as he buried his head again into your lap. “I’d never felt so helpless, I just…I responded very selfishly. I’m sorry.”
The heavy and hot indignation finally began to cool in you, and you let yourself run your fingers through his hair.
“Will you ever let me kill him?” He asked your thighs.
You thought for a moment. The safety in Alastor’s killings were the degrees of separation between him and his targets. The plausible deniability. The lack of obvious motive. If you could find that same safety net when killing Brady, then, sure. “When he’s no longer a threat to us. When no one will be shocked to hear he’s dead.”
His arms came to hold onto your legs, soft pads of his digits stroking the skin beneath your clothing.
“He went too far.” Alastor muttered, moving his head enough to look at you from the corner of his eyes.
“And he knows your name.” You added, the arrest being of equal importance if not less.
“I’m beginning to think it doesn’t matter.” Alastor inched his body closer to you. “I’ve never been a bigger failure in all my life than last night. In every way. To myself and to you.” His head turned, the soft and sharp features alike of his face burying into your lap. A gentle shake of his shoulders as he lost his fight to not weep openly into you broke your heart. He let out a weak and muffled series of sounds, followed by a louder and clearer, “Do you want to leave me?”
Wincing, you remembered how close you’d been to doing just that. It was good though that he asked. Indicating Alastor knew how serious you took the way he had acted the night before.
You pulled his head up by the back of his collar. With your first good look at him in the crisp orange morning light you could see his lips were red and raw from nervous chewing, his hair lacking its usual shine or form. The right side of his face was wet. Tears new and old began to reroute and slide down his high cheeks and pointed jaw. They met at the very bottom of his chin, for the first time in their short lives, and dropped onto you in little couplings. Falling like they were made to always do just that. Just now. Just for him. A fate you could understand so naturally it was bordering on unnerving. A love story you were sure you were playing out.
How rarely you’d seen a man cry. In the past perhaps you’d have been put off. Cringed. Considered it a pathetic show of weakness and lost respect for them. But all you could feel now was a pain so deep and all encompassing it felt as if your skin was cracking off. A dry river bed in the heat of summer. What had been there before? Disgust? Indifference? Even his tears were of a magnitude more important than anyone else’s. Every piece of him mattered more to you.
Leave him? Of course not. No matter what he did, dead or alive, monster or man, you would never hate him enough. And that wasn’t necessarily a good thing. No, that absolutely wasn’t a good thing. A dangerous something he could never fully be told.
Oh.
Ruth’s words on the roof crawled from their grave and tugged at your ankles.
You were in that worst kind of love; Unconditional.
Fireworks were out of the question but you could manage something for him. You had to tell him. Things were too far gone now and you couldn’t be sure how much time was left now that Brady had a name.
“Give me a little time. I’ll show you how stupid of a question that is over our first fight,” Your thumbs wiped away his tears. The handkerchief came back to view, so you gingerly took it and dabbed the sacred lacrima from his cheeks. You took his head between both hands and stared unflinching into the sweet, sun kissed brown of his eyes, “I never want to leave you. Even if I do, even if somehow I’m convinced to go, you’ll have to rip your heart out of my cold dead hands or I’ll take it with me.”
“What have I told you? Don’t mention those things. The spirits are listening.” He attempted a gentle smile through his tear stained cheeks and you couldn’t stop yourself from kissing him. How could someone so good with a knife be so soft?
Another torrent of tears from him and a reply so earnest and so sure your body leaned back with surprise, “But, it’s not mine anymore. Isn’t that obvious?” He half whispered it into the ether.
Please, you begged whoever listened when you prayed, don’t weaken my self respect. Straightening your back to summon some form of resolve, you voiced it.
“If you ever speak to me like you did last night again, with that sharp tone and cruel words, sober or not…” you trailed off, begging him to not make you say it. Don’t force you to make threats you didn’t want to keep. Things you’d be ashamed of not following through with. Little self failures you were genetically predisposed of committing.
“You can take my heart with you.”
A wonderful reply.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
The Release (Alastor)
When Alastor didn’t see you at the side door or back street, he dared to walk around the block to the front of the theater. He was surprised, like many others, to find the doors locked.
A trickle of fear dropped down his spine. Worst case scenario didn’t quite exist as some ladder of concerns, he just felt tremendous fear you were dead. That was the only rung. Had someone been watching you, that he didn’t notice as he was too preoccupied with watching Brady?
“Alastor?”
His eyes snapped from the marquee to the young man poking his head out of the doors.
He nodded, “Johnathon, right?” Alastor moved on autopilot, hand coming to shake your manager’s.
“Johnny. Come inside.”
Alastor didn’t move. Hand still in the air between them. Johnny registered the distinct lack of light in Alastor’s eyes. He took a deep breath in, Alastor looked like a photograph of a man before him. There but, just a facsimile of human.
“She’s okay. Come on.” He gestured firmly, Alastor blinking back to life and slipping in.
Ruth hopped from her seat at the sight of the tall paramour.
“The bastard arrested her! Prostitution.”
Alastor’s mouth opened and then closed. He swallowed, then smiled, and his head did a little tilt. Ruth looked from him to Johnny. Alastor’s rolodex of canned responses spun infinitely around in his mind. Nothing was catching. There wasn’t a facial expression or comment or body posture in existence he had prepared for this conversation. Because he hadn’t ever predicted such a situation.
“He did it in front of everyone. He made a real scene of it.” Johnny leaned against the bar and tapped a cigarette, “I told her I’d fill you in.”
Brady had arrested you. You’d been arrested.
“Prostitution?” Alastor finally spoke.
Ruth shook her head, “Yeah but absolute bullshit. She doesn’t have any want or need for extra money.”
Alastor nodded. It wasn’t his worry. His eyes quickly flitted around the air to the concern of the other two, searching his memory for any sense.
The man he punched? What was his name again? No. He didn’t know where you worked. He didn’t know your name.
But, perhaps— no. He blinked away his runaway errands list.
“Any idea of the bond? How much should I bring?” He patted his pockets, fingers fumbling when he fished out his wallet. “I could get more, but I’ll need to go—,”
He was in disarray, a tremble in his hands making him pause and stare at his own body with a loss of recognition.
“I’m not sure…” Johnny said it slowly, “Ruth could you grab her bag from the back for me.”
When she was out of ear shot Johnny set his hand on Alastor’s, who was still staring in confusion at his own limbs, and made him lower the wallet.
“Hey, I was there that night you cornered Tommy into the booth. I saw you two. The night he hit her. Tommy was a real piece of shit. And I’m glad he’s gone.”
Alastor’s eyes met Johnny’s and he wondered what he looked like to the other man. He felt the corner of his frozen smile twitch but he managed to keep from reacting otherwise. How many missteps had he taken?
For a moment, time stood still and he imagined dragging Johnny into the alley by his neck. Then Ruth. Who else needed to go? He’d carry them all away into the dark.
“I'm no rat! I didn’t tell anyone anything.” A beat as he tried to read the face Alastor was making. A small tight smile and wide eyes that made Johnny’s skin crawl. Was he angry? No, his brows weren’t scrunched up. Was he suspicious? Maybe. Whatever feeling a trapped fox feels when the hound is close. But Johnny didn’t register that. “Just, ya know, I’m glad someone told him off. He was shaking like a leaf after. Anyway,” a nervous clearing of his throat, “I don’t think you should go to the precinct. I’ll go, I’ll pay the bail with some cash from the safe. You two can pay it back.”
No response. Alastor’s thoughts a tangled ball of red wool yarn, every time he tried to pull out a coherent reply the knot seemed to tighten and stiffen. He leaned back a little, trying to fit more of Johnny into his view. Wanting all of the smaller man to be seen.
“I feel kinda responsible. I should have spoken up when I learned what he was doing.” Johnny offered a smile of his own, something about it made him look younger than he was. “Just tell me where you’ll be, I’ll send her that way when she’s released. Maybe in the morning.”
“Responsible for what?” Ruth smacked Alastor’s arm with your small black handbag.
“For her arrest. I should have done more.” Johnny thanked her for the bag. “Where should I say you’ll be?”
“I’ll wait in my car.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’ll go crazy like that, just find somewhere quiet and have a drink.” Ruth turned Alastor around and pushed him towards the doors.
“The Golden Dish. I’ll be there. Just,” Alastor stopped to pull a card from his wallet and hand it to Johnny, “Tell her to give the host this card and ask for me.”
“Well, go have a drink, try to just… try to stay calm.” Ruth’s words barely entered his mind as he stumbled out into the night. Thoughts came so quickly and in such a multitude that Alastor found his head entirely empty, unable to latch onto any single one.
He was unlocking his car door and then he looked up — he was across the street from the station. How he got from the theater to here was unknown to him. Clearly he had driven, but with what mind he had no idea.
Long fingers gripped the steering wheel, knuckles an uncomfortable white with the force. How much would it take to snap the wheel? Had anyone ever tried before?
A deep breath, he didn’t remember holding it until his head began spinning. In the mess of thoughts, he saw flashes of what he could do. Questions to narrow down his options. Did the rooms have windows? Could he climb in one and drag Brady out?
But he didn’t know how many people there were. How many rooms. Where Brady was. Where you were.
Deep breath, he was holding it again and the thought of you being grilled by a cop made him involuntarily gasp for air.
There was no fear you’d say anything. It simply didn’t exist. Even trying to conjure the idea of you telling anyone who he was and what he did was ridiculous to him. A dark part of him knew that notion was born out of a blinding fear and not out of true trust. Because if you did such a thing, it’d mean he’d been wrong about everything. That he couldn’t trust his own decisions anymore. What would he do if you did confess?
Well, he was quite sure he’d die. Perhaps not literally. But Alastor as he was would wither and disappear. He’d be someone —- something entirely different.
But he didn’t stop to think about that. Because it wasn’t a possibility.
With a full body tremble, Alastor leaned back into the seat and ran his fingers through his hair. He felt torn down the center. Half of him was marching into the station and doing…. He wasn’t sure. The rest was just black.
Half of him was driving away to go hide in a glass of whisky until you were released.
What would you want him to do?
He started the car and headed toward the river’s edge, hoping to find a parking spot not too far from the illicit bar.
Alastor made a beeline for the bathrooms just past the entrance of the Grano D'oro. His hair was mussed, his pupils constricted. He drew his bottom lip in and began chewing it nervously, hands pushing his hair back into some form of style. A cough to clear out his tightening throat, he straightened his bow tie and suit jacket. Staring at his reflection, he flinched. An unsettling feeling in his bones that if he stared long enough, it would take on a life of its own.
Something wasn’t right. His nightmares were back and following him around in his waking hours. Terrors of losing his control over himself. Deep seated insecurities about his work.
Alastor approached the host and explained his card was on loan to someone who would be by later. Normally it didn’t work like that, no card meant no entry. But Alastor was a regular. The man nodded and led Alastor into the main dining hall.
Alastor offered passing pleasantries to a few people and smiled as he was escorted past them to the private dining section of Grano D'oro. Separated by another large but closed curtain, the host moved it aside and let Alastor enter. The hall had a few doors but two large doors swung out from the kitchen.
Through the kitchen, with a smile and another nod to the staff who all sang his name as he walked by, Alastor made it to the barely visible door to the side.
Finally, he descended the stairs to the very lively and very lovely bar of his dear friend, Mimzy.
She clapped her hands enthusiastically at the sight of him, taking him by the arm and dragging him to the counter.
“Little late for you isn’t it? Shouldn’t you be at home with your heart.” She dragged out the word, eyes rolling not at the idea of you but at the idea of someone being more important than a night out.
Alastor plopped onto the stool and came to rest both elbows on the bar, “Should be.”
“Fight?” She was already wiping down a glass for him, his head was in his hands which was… a new sight. Sloppily, with some splashing out and onto the bar top, she poured two fingers and slid it to him.
“Worse. Arrest.” His hands curled around the cup and he considered not drinking it at all. His mother warned him to never drink alone and never drink when upset. He fudged the first rule often. But he really did follow the second.
“Oh fuck.” Mimzy added two more fingers to the glass. “What for?”
He stared into the whisky before taking a large mouthful and forcing it down with a burning gulp, “Prostitution.” He croaked.
“That’s not illegal.”
Alastor’s stress was momentarily broken and he looked incredulously at who could be called his closest friend, “Yes, it is, Mimz.”
With a hand on her hip she looked up in thought, “Huh…. Well, ya learn something new every day!”
Alastor held the glass with both hands now, “You do know alcohol is illegal, right? Production and consumption?” He watched her face sour, hand moving to gesture at the windowless room they were in.
“Duh. Why else would I be in this makeshift box?” It was rhetorical, Alastor rolling his eyes and lowering his face to his glass.
Nervously he chewed on his bottom lip, biting red lines into the soft pink flesh. Mimzy stared, unnoticed. She couldn’t remember the last time he looked sad. He did sometimes open up when drunk, perhaps smiling through a pitiful story. Or dancing when she knew he was bruised in either his ego or his heart. But, normally, for Alastor, he kept the obvious and plain emotions kept tightly buttoned up.
“So, why are you here all long faced? Did you arrest her or something?”
Alastor’s fingers found their way into his hair again, “I might as well have. It’s my fault.”
It was, without a doubt in his mind, his fault. He pulled you in. He killed your boss without any care for what you thought. He made you a shield and a target, stupid. Alastor couldn’t argue against it.
You’d been forced to lie for him. To sneak and hide from police for him. He was no better than the spineless men he often chased. How could he be so selfish? It stung his chest and his eyes, the thought of you so sweetly sitting beside him just to be dragged into a police station. It was his fault.
Mimzy hummed, pretending to wipe down the counter, “Then fix it. If you fucking did it, then make it better.”
Yes, obviously, but, “I don’t know how. I-,” Another forced mouthful of whisky, “I roughed up her former guy. For mistreating her. He’s been going around causing trouble now, lying about her. He doesn’t know it was me.” A lie that roughly summed up the trouble. Enough that he could vent, perhaps get third party insight. Though, admittedly, Mimzy wasn’t his first person to turn to for advice.
“And you can’t just,” she made a fist with her thumb stuck out and dragged it across her neck in a cutting motion, “get rid of the issue?”
Killing Brady would solve everything. And it’d feel good. It’d feel….ah, he leaned back, letting his chest open and fill with the shadow of satisfaction, it’d be the best kill yet. How would he do it, he wondered. It’d have to be special. Slow. Perhaps even over the course of days. Oh, or better yet, perhaps he could show Brady exactly how he disposed of his targets. Piece by piece, taking from him and letting him watch as he buried his parts in deep holes. Giving him all the answers to his questions before snuffing out his nagging life.
Lost in thought, he didn’t see Mimzy walk away and come back with a different bottle. The big guns, she thought.
“That a no? Weeell,” She poured herself a glass, “Maybe go talk to the guy. Put the fear of God in ‘em! Let him know if he tries anymore shit,” she waved her finger around, “he’s gonna eat dirt.”
A threat….scare him?
No one would believe Brady, he considered. If someone pulled him back into the shadows of his tree lined street with a blade to his throat and gave him the warning of what was to come if he kept this up….Did he have any allies in this at work?
“But you can’t do nothing. She’s your gal, right? Arresting her is like….it’s like throwing a drink in your face. He’s embarrassing you.”
A lump rose in this throat, the two large gulps of drink metabolizing and carrying away his ability to remember not to take advice from Mimzy.
In fact, as he took a slower sip of his somehow still full glass, he thought she was quite right. Brady was testing his pride. Hurting the closest person he had to get at him. This was villain activity.
If he didn’t reply, he’d be saying he didn’t care at all about you. He’d be the man Brady told you he was. A coward using you until you weren’t convenient anymore. Alastor’s leg began to bounce against the stool’s foothold. Yes, yeah, he had to act. Someone was challenging him. Someone was swinging you around in front of him, taunting how weak he was that he couldn’t even protect you.
Either Brady thought Alastor was all bark and no bite, only attacking men alone at night, or, worse, he thought Alastor was using you.
Alastor stood quickly, but paused as his head sloshed to the left and he leaned with it. Steadying himself on the bar he looked down at Mimzy.
“Ah, he’s at work.” He stated it plainly, as if Mimzy already knew this.
“Oh, then just enjoy some drinks and jazz while you wait! When is he off?”
“I don’t know…but, she’ll come get me when she’s released. So….after that?” Alastor was already losing sight of the lie he had told her earlier. He didn’t notice her top up his glass for a third time.
“Perfect! Now, gossip. You gotta fill me in with the trashy news. You haven’t come by in so long.” She leaned across the bar, swirling her glass clumsily, big eyes blinking.
“Don’t try to distract me. I’m in no mood for such trivial things, Mimz. My love was arrested. At work no less. I’m useless.”
The very notion of thinking about anything but you made his stomach turn.
As the time ticked on though, that turning was quickly becoming more of a reaction to the liquor and less to do with his stress.
The only person who knew how much he’d downed was Mimzy, who kept track on his tab with an out-of-character diligence. When the host knocked on the door, she opened it to receive Alastor’s card and knew you must have come for him.
Getting him up the stairs was difficult, but he was too drunk to let him go through the restaurant. The fine people upstairs had no idea liquor was being served in their fancy dining hall. So Mimzy let Alastor lean on her as she pushed them through the back doors and to the storage room. Opening the trash shoot, she pushed the man out and let him trip through the small opening.
“This way, big guy,” She tugged him by the lapel through the alley and toward the street.
She saw you standing there, looking into the restaurant expectedly, and told him to stay put. Mimzy slipped his card into his suit pocket and bee lined to you. You looked different than she’d expected. She wasn’t really sure what she was expecting…actually, on second thought, she had just imagined a female Alastor. Alastor with a perm and an empire waist dress. A little out of fashion but classy.
She smacked your arm with the back of her hand and left you to him.
Alastor stumbled onto the sidewalk, the lights blinding compared to the dark and smokey illicit club down he’d just fallen out of. He’d never used the back door, and he decided, somewhere in the mess of his thoughts, he didn’t particularly care for it.
“Hey! Alastor!”
His head swung around at the sound of your voice, it was you. You were free. Shrugging off his panic like a heavy fur coat he rushed to you, taking your face in his big hands to kiss you. Grateful. He was so grateful you were back. He couldn’t let Brady take you again. How could he show you how seriously he felt?
What did people like? Kisses. People liked kisses. And passion. And touch.
He’d translate his determination into lavishing you. When you made a yelp and pushed him away, he was confused. Why weren’t you happy to see him?
Icy cold fear dripped and trickled down his ribs that Brady had said something to make you believe you were just collateral. You pulled him by the wrist, not looking at him, and he felt sure he had made a mistake in not going to the station.
In the mud that was his thinking, he was sure this was the issue. What an idiot. He never let others tell him how to act or live, and yet he let some manager keep him from seeing you? He let a pissant like Brady take you and whisper poison into your ear.
He had to fix it. He had to make it better.
“Where’s your car?”
Ah, his car! Yes! Alastor had the power to make this all better immediately. Why didn’t he do this an hour ago? He couldn’t remember…. Alastor took his arm back, pointing you toward the park, “At that little park. Audubon.” It was a lovely little park, he thought.
Your breath against his body when you and him first entertained affection came to his mind so intensely he thought maybe he had been pulled back in time. He paused, remembering the last park you both sat in, covered in blood and trembling.
He needed to make it up to you.
“Anyway, I’m gonna kill him. Maybe right now! Did I tell ya? I know where he lives.” The stalking and studying was part of the fun, it made the meal tastier. And he had been sure to study Brady. When his work ended and you were busy still, he learned everything he could about the nosy cop.
Unfortunately, most of what he learned was that Brady rarely went home at a normal time and he was relentless in his pursuit of information about you both. Many nights he shadowed the detective and heard Brady pestering and questioning locals about missing people and illegal going-ons at your theater. It wasn’t because he wanted to clean up the streets, that was obvious. Those nightly walks were a pig sniffing around in the mud for a kernel. All he needed was a good enough accusation to rush in and shut shit down.
“Alastor.” Your voice saying his name pulled him back to the present, he paused for a beat to figure out where he was, he had thought you’d both been in front of the restaurant just a second ago.
“You’re drunk. No.”
You slipped in front of him, making him nearly collide into you. No? Yes! What did drunkenness have to do with anything? Perhaps you didn’t understand. He did the work! He knew exactly what to do and where to go. Ah, of course. You didn’t know. How could you? He never told you what he did while waiting for you to finish up at work.
“Alastor, yes. He’s got two kids, a wife. He stays out late, obsessin’ over us no doubt.” Raising his head, he felt a swell of pride. Don’t worry, dear. I’ve not made mistakes this time.
You hissed his name as he moved past you, if he was quick he could catch the bastard before he got into his house. His road was lined with trees, shady and quiet. It’d be so easy. Fuck, it was even better suited for his hobbies than alleys and parks. How odd.
“Hey. You can’t-,”
The word set something off in him. Can’t? Why do people keep telling him what to do or not to do?! Why were people always fucking giving him limitations?
Brady had done this. You’d never– He was just trying to clean up his mess. Why did people think they could dictate his life so freely? Why did what he wanted to do not matter, even though he was just trying to be a good man?
“Who are you to stop me? To tell me,” He whipped around, losing his balance as he tried to recorrect. Alastor paused to stare down at his legs. Et tu, crura? Even his own body was betraying him. Saying his desires were moot points. Fine, fuck it. He barely needed legs to drive anyway. If he could just do things the way he always did, you’d see how capable he was. Brady would see how fucking stupid he was. Tommy could rot in hell harder if that was an option.
Ah, it was quiet. How long had he been in his head? Had you said something and he didn’t hear? Oh you had stopped walking. “Are ya really not comin’?”
You had told him to not go alone, to always have you nearby when he killed. You not coming made no sense at all.
“Who am I, Alastor?” Your voice was high pitched, he could hear your throat constricting. The reason wasn’t known to him though. People often did that before he killed him.
What an odd question. Had you used your stage name so long you’d forgotten your true one. He laughed, what a silly thing to ask! “Now who is drunk?”
When your arms crossed and you glared back at him, his head cocked to the side. He wondered if you were playing around. You often pretended to be cross with him to make him pull you close and make you smile.
“I thought you’d stop if I asked. I thought I was your equal in this.”
Not a joke. Well yes, of course you were. But this wasn’t that.
“Well!” Alastor searched the sidewalk for the words, “This is different! He isn’t like the others. Mister Detective Kenneth Brady is-.” He was getting mad. Not at you, persay, but at the entire mess before him.
“Shhh!” You seethed, “Give me your key. You can’t drive like this.”
What?
Oh, so now he can’t drive? Your trust in him had been so eroded with just one private meeting with Brady. And did you shush him?
Alastor, don’t go to the station.
Alastor, don’t clean up the mess you made for me.
Alastor, don’t drive.
He didn’t want to fight with you. To argue or assert dominance, but…he stood up straighter to simulate sobriety. It failed, his hand jutting out to brace against the wall for stability. A failure that added to a growing pile of failures.
He caught himself and stared back at you. No. It was his car. Alastor was putting his drunken, clumsy foot down.
“If you want me to come with you, I am driving. Make your decision now.”
When your hand came out for the keys he looked down to it and then back to you. What was that? What were you doing?
You closed it, “I won’t let a man waste my time when I’m just trying to help him. You’ve got me confused with someone else.”
Your turning and walking back forward the restaurant made his eyes roll. Oh, the keys still. He pulled them from his pocket, fine, have them. I give up. Failure pile growin’ every minute.
He tossed them into the space between you both, smiling to himself. You wanted the keys, he thought, there you go.
But when you turned around, he could feel the rage rolling off of your body. Alastor couldn’t pinpoint what it was about your face that was different than usual, but just beneath your skin he could see a you he’d never met before. One he didn’t care to meet.
Fuck.
He’d fucked up.
A flash of embarrassment sizzled in his stomach before he lurched forward and grabbed the keys, offering them to you properly.
He followed behind, too stubborn to show you the way but unwilling to be without you.
Leaning into the window, he stared at the city as it rolled by, until it turned to water and then to woods. The air was stiff and suffocating. He hated it. Why were you so mad at him?
Alastor couldn’t understand what had happened. He was so happy to see you but immediately you pushed him away and dragged him off like a child being taken to the headmaster. What had happened at the station, he wondered. There was no way to ask now. The mood was too heavy, and he was too insolent to be the first one to speak. You were mad at him. You didn’t trust him. You, probably, we’re fed up with the complications of his company.
The pain behind his sternum was akin to a splintering rod; stiff, solid, and biting every time he moved. No one had ever made him feel this way before. He couldn’t put his finger on the feeling though, it was sadness, and it hurt, but there was something deeper. Something underneath these shallow reactions that dredged up a vague sense of mourning.
Regret?
He slammed the car door behind him and fell into the sofa as soon as he could. Nothing went right. The day had started so wonderfully… you’d felt like a part of himself he’d finally found. And now….
“You’re mad at me.” He heard the keys hit the bowl. Thank you, he thought.
Yes. No. Not at you. Not with you. Just, mad. Mad at Brady. Mad at Tommy. Mad at liquor as a general concept. And, the most upsetting, mad at himself. Had he ever been mad at himself before?
“No.” He sucked in a breath, “I’m mad. Full stop.” He hugged a pillow, he just wanted to be left alone now to wallow in the expanse of these new and awful sensations bleeding into his guts.
He thought it and immediately winced. Not alone alone. Please, if anyone had been listening, please disregard it. That wasn’t what he wanted. He didn’t mean that at all.
“You’re acting like a child. Go to your bed. I’ll sleep here.” Your voice was stern, talking down to him.
“You’re talkin’ to me like a child.” He felt small and stupid. Closing his eyes, he sighed and tried to settle mind. Everything was swimming. Literally. His thoughts and the room were liquid and floating up into the atmosphere. Alastor was confident he would follow them up.
“You really don’t see the connection between those two things?? Atleast— go to the guest bed.”
Connection? Yes! You were treating him like a naive child, talking to him like a confused child, pulling him like a disobedient child, holding out your hand to him like he was a selfish child.
“No.” If he opened his eyes he was 90% sure he’d vomit. If he could just bear through the spinning he’d be okay.
“Suit yourself. I don’t have patience for this, Alastor. You’re acting like a brat when I’m the one who had the hard night.”
He turned his head into the pillow to conceal the frown.
Patience… there it was. You’d lost patience with him. And you’d been so patient for months now. Waiting in bars and cars while he killed. Waiting for him while he threw body parts into holes and snapping jaws. Waiting for weeks beside him for inspiration to strike and for him to seek your intimacy in more serious touch.
He heard you make it three steps before returning, “And I really don’t appreciate the way you’re treating me. We’ll talk in the morning.”
Alastor’s eyes welled with tears that soaked into the soft yellow pillow. He held his breath until he heard the floor creaking upstairs to let his body shiver with the sob. He’d had you all morning. And he’d kissed you goodbye at work… and then he came to get you. But you were gone.
He was scared, and angry.
And he got angrier and angrier and now— he couldn’t piece anything together.
Rolling onto his back he held the pillow to his chest.
Eyes fixed on the ceiling he listened to you prepare for bed. The water ran. The bed groaned. As the liquor took him away the floors creaked again and he hoped maybe you’d come join him on the sofa. Even in silence. Even angry. Just be there so he knew you weren’t done with him entirely.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
When Alastor woke he was alone, the sound of the back door shutting startling him into consciousness. The only evidence he had slept and not just shut his eyes for a couple minutes was the light through the curtains.
For the briefest, sweetest second he felt excited to see you. It was eclipsed near immediately with the nauseating reality that you’d had a fight the night before and you’d told him…. It was hazy. Clenching his eyes shut he searched through the drunken darkness of the night before.
He had to work backwards. You said you’d lost patience. He was treating you poorly. You’d driven him home. He’d thrown his keys at you.
Alastor groaned, feet kicking the end to the sofa in anger. He had tried to make you pick up the keys off the ground, when all you had done was try to take care of him.
He remembered you tugging him along the sidewalk, before that… you kissed. No, he kissed. He could distinctly remember trying to lick his way into your mouth. On the sidewalk. In front of a very nice restaurant. The yellow pillow was pulled to his face to muffle his scream.
Drinking was the first mistake, continuing to drink was the second. And now you were upset with him.
He was to blame. It was so obvious now. Not just for the arrest and the negative attention but for the entire evening going tits up.
Throat tightening, a tingle began in his fingertips and worked its way up his wrists.
Stupid.
Selfish.
Useless.
Throwing the pillow into the chair opposite the sofa he tossed his legs over and sat up. He couldn’t breath, chest heavy. As his lips began to feel like they were stung with tiny needles, he spread his knees and lowered his head between them.
Not now, he yelled at himself, you’re making this about yourself again. Just like last night.
He’d wanted to fix the problems he’d made so badly but stupidly he’d just burdened you further.
There was no future in that moment. All the little daydreams of you and him were suspended and in jeopardy. Until he spoke to you, had the talk you told him was required, he had nothing.
For all he knew, you’d made up your mind already. How odd. He himself was the cat in the box. He could already be dead and not even know it.
Alastor couldn’t stand another second of not knowing his fate. Lost in the panic he hadn’t considered at all what Brady had said to you. Taking the steps two by two he found the bed empty. Before turning, vaguely remembering hearing the screen door earlier, something caught his eye and made the world spin again with renewed terror.
The handle of your bag peeking out from under the dresser. It had been in the closet, he had emptied it and put it there for you so he knew that to be a fact.
He closed his eyes, bile rising in his throat. Was it full of your things? Were you just waiting to tell him to take you home?
He couldn’t find the courage to check. Rushing past it like it could come to life and grab him by the ankles, he went to the nightstand beside his side of the bed and opened the drawer, the bright yellow of your handkerchief calming him just a sliver. If he kept it, you’d have to come back. He could call you and remind you to come back for it. And then he could convince you to stay. His mother always said he was good with words. If you forgot it at his house when you left he’d have a way to bring you home again. Fresh tears welled, the backs of his hands smearing them into his hairline.
The handkerchief smelled faintly of you still. His bottom lip was sucked between his teeth and the skin picked and pulled. Still carrying the piece of fabric, he leaned over the stairs railing to see you as you sat on the back porch.
Sitting on the second to last step of the house, he took a moment to collect himself. Being so frazzled, so undone, wasn’t like him. That foreignness just added to the panic. Bringing a hand to his chest, he opened his shirt to run his fingers down his sternum and to the left. A beating heart, evidence he was the survivor in every encounter he’d been in. But now, half a house between your and his back, why did he feel the most in danger? Rarely did fight or flight kick in, the last time he felt it was rolling around with that man who’d tried to choke the life out of you.
No strange man here now. Just strange feelings.
The pounding under his fingerprints became sonorous. It was becoming harder to ignore the obvious.
Deep breaths, he had to prepare his responses. The only way to begin was with an apology, but after that he wasn’t sure where things would go. So he had to make a plan.
Alastor hoped you’d forgive him, and accept the apology. At which point he would love to imagine himself doing something respectful like kissing your cheeks and thanking you for your mercy.
If you didn’t accept it….Alastor had never begged a day in his life, but he could see himself begging you to stay. Perhaps hugging your ankles and promising things he didn’t have. There was no longer an impossibility in what he would do, which was alarming. The idea of him being so pathetic and pitiful was nauseating, however there was no one and nothing that could stop that if you got up and left.
There was no way to run his lines for this. Like many other interactions with you he couldn’t bring the usual tools with him to battle. Either with your wit or point of view, or perhaps today your wrath, you always disarmed him.
But that was what made you worth the risk. It began as entertainment, but soon enough the dome of your stage extended out and around him, sheltering Alastor in the warm light of your presence. And now as he looked around the railing of his stairs, he was scared to see the exit lights flicker on.
Walking out the backdoor, he wondered if he would be allowed back in or if the door would lock behind him.
He knew the exact moment he fucked up, and knew he had to begin there. Barefoot, still in yesterday’s clothes while you were in your night dress, he let himself drop to the space beside you before tentatively bringing his head down to your lap. He avoided eye contact, not yet ready to confront his adjudicator.
The pain in your words from last night were just now beginning to sting his eyes.
‘Who am I?’
“You are my darling,” It wasn’t until he said it that he realized he hadn’t opened his mouth and spoken yet, his voice was harsh and throat dry. Who were you? It would be easier to list who you weren’t to him now. “That’s who you are.”
No unit of time existed small enough to measure the pause between what he said and your reply, but it felt like a gorge separating his breaths.
“You sure didn’t make me feel like your anything last tonight.” He couldn’t remember ever hearing you take such a tone; cutting and cold. Was there no longer warmth in your heart for him? He had been so drunkenly blinded by his own feelings he hadn’t stopped to think about how you were viewing his little tantrum. Maybe he hadn’t ever really had anyone around whose opinion mattered very much.
And he’d made you feel like nothing to him. The mountain of derelictions crumbled under the weight of perhaps his biggest failure of the evening, an avalanche of embarrassment and shame washed over him and he didn’t try to impede his tears. Men were only supposed to cry on their wedding day and at funerals, but he supposed this day could still go either way. Could still be as pivotal to his happiness.
“I know. I’m sorry. I was so,” what word could sum it up?
“Drunk.”
“Enraged.” a high whine caught in his throat, clenching his eyes now as the embarrassment took over stronger than he had thought possible. He felt stupid now saying he was just angry, “And drunk.”
He couldn’t entirely blame the alcohol, but he wouldn’t disagree with you now.
“And disrespectful.”
Alastor folded in on himself, shoulders drawing in to try and curl up small enough that he ceased to exist in any meaningful way. Disrespectful. He had, he’d disrespected you in public and in private. The stunt with the keys came back and he thought he may just die from the mortification of what he’d done.
“That too.” His hands nervously wrung the handkerchief beneath his closed thighs. What a terrible morning juxtaposed with the prior day’s bliss. A sigh, soft and weak. He remembered who was the catalyst for his buffoonery. “I want to split his skull with an ax.”
Argh, it wasn’t about him. “I’m sorry. I— you were not wrong. I didn’t know what to do with myself when your manager said you’d been arrested. I almost drove my car into the station doors.” He was beginning to wish he had.
“So getting zozzled and shouting the personal details of a New Orleans detective into the night seemed… the better option? When I had already had a difficult night?” He flinched at the rising anger in your voice, the rhetoricals were scolding and biting his pride like a nun’s ruler to his knuckles. “When I needed your support? Comfort?”
Perhaps the death blow. All he could do was nod and accept his mistakes. But, it hurt. Not to admit them, but to confront them. Another tidal wave of emotion hit and he had to bury his face back into the cool silk of your nightwear. He couldn’t understand how he had fucked it up so badly.
No, he had to find words. “I’d never felt so helpless, I just…I responded very selfishly. I’m sorry.” Two words did nothing, they tumbled from his mouth like feathers. Weightless. When the heavy guilt in his chest was threatening to drag him to hell with one misstep, ‘I’m sorry’ was just crystals of salt dropped in the gulf. Actions were all he had left and he wasn’t sure yet you’d give him the time to show you.
When your fingers grazed his scalp and combed his hair from his ears he shook with relief. A tender touch that promised you didn’t hate him, and his cortisol levels immediately plummeted. He felt safe again, enough to ask what was pestering him still.
“Will you ever let me kill him?” his lips ghosted over the mercy of your thighs.
As you thought, his fingers ran along the edges of your handkerchief. Feeling the stitched edges with precision as a distraction from the stress of waiting.
“When he’s no longer a threat to us. When no one will be shocked to hear he’s dead.”
No longer a threat… what did that mean? When Brady moved on from you both, or was simply made incapable of doing you harm. He could expedite that, somehow. He was sure of it.
His arms wrapped around your legs and caressed your thighs through the silk, “He went too far. Turning his head up, he got you into his peripheral.
“And he knows your name.”
Oh. That … was expediting, wasn’t it? It was bound to happen.
“I’m beginning to think it doesn’t matter.” He pulled himself closer again. Brady was nothing compared to the threat of losing you. “I’ve never been a bigger failure in all my life than last night. In every way. To myself and to you.” What a joke he was. How high and mighty and curated he tried to be that he forgot the point of it. A shield he turned to you was just a barrier between what he desperately wanted by his side. His tears returned with renewed vigor, the complete breakdown of his manicured image was a tell tale heart he couldn’t smile away anymore, the greatest weakness he was never so happy to call his own. Muffled by your clothing and inviting lap, “I just love you so much…” he choked and then sucked in a deep breath to try and get control of himself, shifting his face to the side again to watch your face for an immediate reaction to his question, “Do you want to leave me?”
He didn’t want the answer. He knew better than to ask. But – if you did, he didn’t want to keep you there. He couldn’t let the moment pass without finding out if you were just putting up with him. If you felt trapped, like Brady promised you that you would. When you told him those things, the silly things the detective had said before, you always laughed. You said it was so ridiculous. But, now, there was nothing funny about the idea. He couldn’t promise himself he wouldn’t keep that little yellow fabric in his hands even after you parted, but he could swear to not try and guilt you back into his arms.
When you lifted him off of your body by the collar he couldn’t understand the emotion behind it. You were inspecting his face so carefully, but there was no sign of disgust or anger or even adoration to signal how he should feel. The teardrops tickled his cheeks and chin and fell unimpeded to your legs.
Your eyes kept moving over his features, until a small tug of your lips to the side crept into a smile. Soft and obviously natural.
“Give me a little time. I’ll show you how stupid of a question that is over our first fight,” The pads of your thumbs were soft as they slid down his cheeks and gathered the moisture there. When he pulled the handkerchief to his lap, you took it and used it to further dry his face. He exhaled a broken breath when you took his face in your hands and stared into his eyes. “I never want to leave you.” His body again trembled with relief, blinking away the nth torrent of tears, “Even if I do, even if somehow I’m convinced to go, you’ll have to rip your heart out of my cold dead hands or I’ll take it with me.”
Stop. Don’t say that. “What have I told you? Don’t mention those things.” Death. Leaving. Goodbyes. “The spirits are listening.” They were always listening, watching, hoping to grab a hold of anything you said without precision and deliver you the reality you mused. He didn’t want to lecture, but he couldn’t let it go. Shh, don’t say such things. He could feel the dried tears crack as his eyes crinkled with his smile, a smile that he nearly failed to switch up to return the kiss when you pressed your lips into his. A first fight? He’d never had one of those. Typically he never got that far. Things fell apart the second someone was unhappy or unsatisfied.
Take his heart back? His mind finally processed the words. It was yours. The morning had proved to him he couldn’t claw it back if he truly wanted, and if he was further honest with himself, he didn’t want it. It was better off with you. He felt the air cooling the once body-warm tears, he whispered what he felt was too vulnerable to say at full volume, “But, it’s not mine anymore. Isn’t that obvious?” His eyes looked down at your feet pointed in towards his own. Was this pathetic display not making it glaringly evident he was a man turned inside out? Guts in his hands and heart in yours?
You sniffled and sat up straight, bringing his attention back to you.
“If you ever speak to me like you did last night again, with that sharp tone and cruel words, sober or not…” Your words got slower until you stopped, an almost wild look in your eyes he could read as pleading. He shook his own head subtly, unconsciously swearing he wouldn’t.
If he ever forgot himself and you again, like he had let his rage and weakness do the night before, he didn’t deserve your forgiveness or grace anymore. A woman too good for him.
Because he couldn’t ever get it back now, “You can take my heart with you.”
A sickening fact.
His body was a tool, and he’d use every tool he had available to make you understand what you meant to him. Would you feel different now, now that he knew you loved him? Would he find your body warmer, more inviting… Could he make you scream your love for him?
Later, he would have to bookmark that idea. The confession was too fragile still, a crystal figurine to precious to even take out of the box.
⋅˚₊‧ ଳ⋆Masterlist.ೃ࿔*:・
˖ ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖
@eris-norwega @reath-solia @catticora , @angelicribbons , @xalygatorx
@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @moonmark98
, @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog ,
@thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies
@howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @fizzled-phoenix , @star-kujo-platinum
, @a-case-of-attachment, @multifandomfanatic02 @watereddownmilk , @bontensbabygirl @smoky000
@hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain
@harley2223-blog , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima ,
@ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby
@dontfuckbutimfab @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12
#i’m just even more excited for the ‘real’ confession now#the impact… it’s just gonna be so cathartic for them#THEY NEED TO KNOW THEY’RE EQUALLY DOWN BAD#alastor x reader#x reader#human alastor x reader#hazbin hotel fan fiction#article by mink
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what do you feel about riding Giselle’s tits?
(How am I even supposed to do that I’ve never heard of riding boobiez-)
Maybe riding her abs or thighs is a better option tho 🤔 also wanted to add that Aeri is such a tease so she’d totally do the knee thing often to rile you up, staring at you with a soft smile and giggling once she sees that it started to affect you.
Aeri is both a boobs and ass girl (as we all should be) but if she had to choose… for the sake of this scenario I’d say ass. She LOVES playing with it while you ride her thigh, making sure you grind on her very well, leaving it nice and wet as you play with your swollen clit. “Look at the mess your pussy is leaving on me” she’d say with that voice, you know, that voice she has. There’s this tone she uses sometimes when speaking English that it’s kinda girlie? Sassy? Idk but it’s so hot I need it in my ear it’s like asmr- anyways
Aeri likes catching you off guard and spank your ass hard when you least expect it. And yes she succeed to surprise you but it’s always such a pleasant surprise that you need her to repeat again and again, and you ain’t shy about asking, almost begging for it
“Please, more…spank me more..”
“You’re such a kinky little bitch aren’t you?” She’d reply between giggles. You groaned in response, wanting action and no teasing, but knowing Aeri too well, getting bratty gets you nowhere, at least not as fast as you wanted it sometimes
“Mommy, please…” you moaned in her ear as you wrapped her shoulders in your arms. You couldn’t see it, but by the way she grabbed your ass and moaned back, you knew she probably rolled her eyes in pleasure hearing your needy voice just for her. And just as you asked, you felt the hard impact of her hand against your ass, making you squeal and continue riding her, this time more eager than before.
“Is that how you like it, hm? Hard like that?” She’d say, wanting to talk you through your pleasure.
“Just like that, mommy”
————————————————————————
I’m still curious about the tit riding, I even searched it and found nothing- Where did you even get that from, anon, that’s very interesting 😭
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so i know andrea stella gets a lot of hate and i don't agree with everything he says or does by any means, BUT. in my opinion. i like this perspective inside the team about the wdc for lando being a quest, an opportunity without expectation, you know? too much pressure from inside the team on his shoulders wouldn't help anything. the fact that lando was in the title battle at all was a surprise to them, the first five races of the year gave no indication it would happen. the media was very, very quick to start to craft a narrative and shove it on him. i think that if the team too had begun to put him in a pressure cooker too... idk.
like i get max fewtrell asking 'where's the backing' and the frustration of lack of team orders, not prioritizing lando earlier and more, but i also like that as a team they were about maximizing the surprising way the season turned for the better, and not expecting more from lando than a first-time front-running max-fighting title-challenging driver could deliver. i'm a lando stan don't get me wrong, i just think accurate and reasonable expectations are so essential in the big picture. he's still learning, he's said that so many times, and you see it on track. the media has been so harsh and the internet so cruel, i like that the team would take it race by race and try to optimize without pressure. he deserves that space to grow, you know?
like he had his first win this year!! max had his first win in 2016 and it took until 2021 for him to win the wdc. lando's career is (hopefully) going to be long, and he's only going to get better. he's not going to be max this year though, max is max, and expecting him to best max and storm the championship was just.. idk. not fair. the whole framing of the second half of the season has been unfair to lando. getting p2 is not something he should be ashamed of or humiliated by. he's not washed. he's not going to turn into oscar's second driver any time soon, nor oscar into his. the team helped with the quest, is still helping, as he helped with the wcc. seeing the big picture like a team principal does... idk. i don't hate the way stella frames this.
#sorry just thinking thoughts#lando is years behind max in terms of experience#the team hasn't been a contender in ages#they BOTH are learning#and everyone expects them to beat MAX??#idc the red bull dropped off... he's still max#lando norris
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hi! I just had this idea of Illumi going to introduce his girlfriend/fiancée to his family, except that she's a spoiled queen bee regina george-ish/cher horowitz like (somehow, they managed to be a couple). Idk really, the image got in my head and I thought it would be funny to see the Zoldycks reaction lmao
When Illumi made mention of his future wife, surprise and disbelief exploded in his family’s eyes. They intended him to follow family traditions and continue the Zoldyck line of course, but when it came to finding a partner the family was sure an arranged match would be needed.
To think there was a woman on this Earth who not only found attraction with Illumi but Illumi himself approved of was a huge shock.
Silva expected the woman to be strong and bear powerful children for the Zoldyck family.
Kikyo believed the woman’s beauty was what attracted her son.
Zeno felt pity for the woman as she must’ve been submissive and easy for Illumi to control.
The traits of being soft-spoken, delicate, graceful, and well-educated gathered in everyone's mind.
But…
A young woman dressed fashionably in black and leopard strutting into the Zoldyck family mansion as if she owned it and Illumi trailing behind holding a cat was far from their predictions.
It took a lot for Kikyo to hold in her anger and not faint at the sight.
“Father, Mother, I’d like to introduce you to my fiancee.”
A displeased grunt from his fiancee and Illumi was quick to add to his sentence.
“And her cat, Cassandra.”
Silva didn’t respond at first. He just stared at Camilla, his steely gaze lingering on her Prada dress, the excessive jewelry, and—unfortunately—the very loud sound of her heels.
Was this the best his son could do? Did he fail as a father somewhere? Perhaps he broke him too early.
You completely unbothered, smiled brightly and stuck out your hand
“It's very nice to meet you Mr and Mrs Zoldyck. You have a lovely home.”
He looked at her hand as though it might bite him, and then—after a long, uncomfortable silence—gave a small, formal nod.
“I’m glad you think so-” Kikyo started.
“But it could be redecorated don't you think?” you continued.
“What?”
Did she just insult the state of their home.
“Black and white is so outdated. Perhaps a shade of red or purple might do. What do you think Illumi?”
“I’ll keep it in mind when building a place for you.”
Silva and Zeno exchanged glances. It was clear this woman found a way to exert control over Illumi. Such a thing was unspeakable. Either she used an ability of some sort or she truly is that influential. It was dangerous either way.
Taking initiative Zeno spoke up. “Are you aware of our families occupation?”
“Of course, you're assassins, right? Illumi has told me all about it. I promise I'm more than able to continue the business-
A pin was thrown in your direction aimed for the neck but you were able to grab it swiftly.
“Is this a gift? It's beautiful. I have a dress in this same color to pair it with,” you explained excitedly while looking over the jeweled hairpin.
Kikyo frowned at her failure to inflict damage.
“How was it the two of you met?” Silva asked wanting to keep things on track.
Illumi glanced at you before answering. “I met her while completing a job. She was arguing with my target and stabbed him in a fit of rage.”
“I see. Was that the first time you’ve killed someone?”
You adjusted in your seat and gave a small sigh of impatience. “Am I the only one who thinks this kind of talk is boring? For such an infamous family I was expecting much more entertainment.” You examined your perfectly manicured nails.
“Honestly you're just like Illumi, Sliva was it? Much too serious.”
Illumi’s lip twitched at the playful jab. Silva's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing.
“What do you do for fun around here? I mean, besides, you know, the whole... killing people thing."
A tense silence followed.
“Nothing?”
“Has anyone ever heard about hobbies? Knitting, cooking, reading, yoga? For such a well-off family one would expect that you should have a spa day once in a while. A family day at the beach. Just relaxing. You know, take a break from all the stabbing."
“Relaxing?” Silva questioned in disbelief.
“Yes. Surely it must be tiring being all serious and stabby all the time. I know a guy who is amazing at massages. I could give you his number. You look like you need one.”
A chuckle could be heard from Zeno.
“You’re rather amusing. I can see why Illumi is so taken with you.”
“I always aim to please, Grandpa.”
Zeno raised an eyebrow at the endearment. But didn't say anything in fact, he seemed rather pleased.
The evening continued that way. Despite the family making plenty of attempts to threaten or test you. You continued to exceed their expectations and bring humor and warmth into the home.
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I'm european, and I don't trust myself to throw around facts about usa politics, so I'm just gonna shut my mouth about this. I do wish kamala would've won tho, that's the only thing I'll say
anyway, I do want to complain about the politics in my country. sorry for anything that might not make sense. translating this is a bit hard ngl.
here, in austria, we had elections for the national council a while back. a party named fpö won. fpö stands for "freedom party austria." it's a right extremist party, standing for the traditional hetero family, against immigrants, against abortion and its overall pretty extreme and problematic.
the politician Herbert Kickl, which is part of fpö, often comes across as extremely aggressive, in my opinion. "Festung Österreich" which basically means "fortress austria" seems to be his idea of the perfect austria. he'd like to close the borders and send immigrants to other countries. (more on that in a sec)
his claims are so problematic sometimes, it's insane. he is the type of person that just complains and hates and throws insults around. he thinks climate change doesn't exist (or if it does, isn't man-made), and has some problematic claims that you can research if you want, I don't want this to get too long.
as of coming across as aggressive, he often reminds (not only me but a lot of ppl) of Hitler at his speeches. he calls himself "Volkskanzler" (Idk how to correctly translate that), which, surprise surprise, the nazis called Hitler. this isn't a controversial opinion of mine, as wild as it may sound, a lot of people think this way
coming back to the deportation of immigrants, the party wants to deport criminal or illegal immigrants. I understand that, yes, but it truly isn't just criminal immigrants. anyone that I know, that is a fan of the fpö, is very hateful of any immigrant at all. "if they work, they can stay". sometimes people coming here have to wait a long ass time to even be able to go work.
one thing I don't understand about this at all is all the boys my age that think it's cool to vote for this party. they're either not austrian themselves or have a ton of friends that aren't. pisses me off a lot
at the end I wanna talk about the election posters?? they're weird as fuck, if I can say so. I'll try my best to translate some.
"your will be done" - which is a verse in the bible and a christian song
"the only one on your side" - self explanatory
stuff like that. I just find them weird and uncomfortable because most of them are just plain white with big blue font on top, but that's just my opinion. what's really noticeable tho, is that almost 80% of the posters I see are scribbled on or ripped, which really says a lot. I've never seen a drawn on poster from another party. things I've seen on there are "nazi pigs" "no 4th reich" "fascists",....going on like that.
anyways, if you've read all that... thank you? I don't really expect anyone to. I just really wanted to rant about this. maybe it's nice for people outside of austria to see how politics are going here, I'm not sure if Americans, for example, have any clue about this. if I said anything that's incorrect, feel free to correct me anytime. I don't mind at all as long as no one insults me.
#austria#politics#right wing extremism#right wing politics#herbert kickl#fpö#immigration#austrian politics#austrian painter#complaining#rant post#rant#election 2024#us elections#kamala harris#donald trump#vote blue#vote red#vote democrat#vote republican#österreich#politik#wahlen#nationalratswahl#gegen rechts#deportation#abortion#disappointing#thanks for listening#left wing
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HH S2 Leaks: Just some whining and complaining from me below LOL
TikTok spoiled things and I almost thought it was fake and realized it wasn’t.
Well, I was hoping they wouldn’t go down that route with Rosie but they did. There was something that was leaked around S1 where Rosie was revealed to be either Lilith/Eve or Roo in disguise. I’m not surprised she owns Alastor’s soul but I am disappointed that Rosie is not who we thought she was before this. They really keep going lower and lower with Alastor’s character though. I fully expected it but it still annoys me. You’re telling me Alastor is basically…nothing? The only reason he’s “powerful” is thanks to Rosie and he can’t do shit without his staff. No one is scared of him and no one takes him seriously. What else is there of him? Just an annoying and whiny attention whore who has no skills whatsoever. He’s pathetic and I will never stop being bitter over how badly the show butchered him compared to the YT pilot.
Now Sir Pentious and his backstory was fine. I didn’t see all the clips but apparently Pentious tries to commit suicide? I haven’t seen the clip for myself but damn. I feel bad for him but that’s because I have soft spot for Pentious.
I found myself actually interested in the leak with Lute hallucinating Adam. I hate both these characters so that was something I guess? It’s nice to see Lute getting so frustrated because no one is on her side.
Sera’s song leak is whatever. I don’t have anything say on it. It’s alright. I don’t have much to say about God’s Speaker or whatever the bird lady was called besides this. If she’s a speaker for god and it’s clear that the show is avoiding anything to do directly with god, I think it’s gonna be revealed that there is no god. Either that or she’s a fraud and isn’t a speaker of God. I could totally wrong but just a thought I’d share.
Let’s talk about Abel and St. Peter. First of all, why the fuck is St. Peter back? He’s annoying. So, what about Abel? Well, idk tbh. If he wasn’t Abel, I wouldn’t mind his character I think? He’s just whatever.
Lastly, haven’t seen any clips of this but apparently, Alastor and Angel manage to get hypnotized by Vox. I’m very worried how that’s gonna go. We already had…episode 4…and we know Valentino and Vox are a thing; I’m sure you get my concern. Like, for fuck’s sake, I hope Alastor doesn’t become a victim too. Look, call me crazy, but once it was revealed Al and Vox were friends in the past, I had a bad gut feeling. Let’s hope my gut feeling was wrong.
Also, side note, can we talk about why the show treats Vox and Val’s relationship as fine? While I know the Vee’s are villains, Vox knows that Angel is a victim to Val. Granted, there isn’t anything saying their relationships is good or bad, I’m just confused on why everyone is chill about VoxVal? Idk *shrugs*
Anyways, I feel bad for the animators who worked hard on season 2 only for it to be leaked. Wonder what’s gonna happen now.
#hazbin hotel spoilers#hazbin hotel season 2#hazbin hotel leaks#hazbin hotel s2 leaks#hazbin hotel critical
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Hello! What do you think about a Killua & Leorio friendship scenario?: Killua gets inspired by Leorio so that he also wants to become a doctor and Leorio helps him with his studies.
Apologies for only getting to this nowwww I've been way too busy ugh This is SUCH a fun scenario! Idk the twist of Killua going from killing people to saving them is so cute and sweet- let's goooo! This is gonna be taking place a few years later, when Leorio is an actual doctor.
🩵Leorio helping Killua study HCs🪀
I wanna be like you:
Killua was raised to be an assassin, he'd been using his skills to hurt people ever since he could remember, but ever since he'd rescued Alluka from his family, his intentions began to change drastically, even more than they had in the past years.
Unless it was about protecting his little sister... fighting wasn't his priority anymore, especially since hearing that Leorio had actually managed to reach his goal of becoming a doctor.
He'd honestly never paid that much attention to that "old man" before. They were friends, sure, but he'd always been closer to Gon since it was easier to relate to someone his own age.
Hearing Leorio's passion when talking about his dream, genuinely inspired Killua... could he become a doctor too? He'd always struggled with finding his own path in life, always clinging to other people for a purpose... the doubt that he was just doing this as the ultimate act of defiance towards his family or to copy Leorio was still there, but nothing at the moment was forbidding him from trying.
"Leorio... what does it take to become a doctor?" he'd casually brought up the topic, acting typically bashful about asking a question like that. Leorio was surprised at first, but he answered honestly. Aside from studying lots, the desire to help people when nobody else can was his main drive.
"Do you think... I can do that?" Now Leorio was actually floored. An ex-assassin? Wanting to be a doctor? But... he wasn't the type to discourage his friends, quite the opposite- when he understood Killua wanted to follow in his footsteps he felt a sense of pride, and like the great big brother of the group he is, he took it upon himself to help Killua with his new goal.
Learning to focus:
What Killua was not expecting, was his new goal immediately getting challenged by... his own short attention span.
Go figure, the boy who'd fought his whole life and could run around at the speed of light, didn't exactly love sitting at a desk and study boring pre-med books.
Killua found himself often skipping his studying hours or cutting them short. He grew frustrated because on top of that, even when he did study, the information struggled to stick around in his brain. Maybe he wasn't fit for this after all... it was the first time he, a prodigy in fighting and Nen, was... not good at something, and it hit him hard.
He reluctantly brought up this to Leorio, who immediately reassured Killua that it's not that he wasn't fit to study; he just needed to find his own way! Seeing how fast Killua could absorb information in the past through hands-on experience, Leorio suggested he'd learn on actual anatomical models instead of relying on the pictures on the books, and that instead of studying cooped up in a library, maybe Killua would benefit from studying outside.
That advice seemed to work for the white haired boy, and between that and occasionally getting more help from Leorio, Killua actually began believing in himself, he could do this! He was going to leave behind everything his family had ever made him up to be, and he was going to follow his own goals!
Like an older brother:
Over this time, Killua began to see just how dependable Leorio is, almost like the older brother he'd always wished for, instead of Illumi.
It was reassuring to finally have someone in his life who didn't force him into a box, but who instead put in a lot of effort to find what would work for Killua.
Leorio didn't even notice he was doing this, it just felt like the most obvious way to get Killua to accomplish something. It looked like Melody was right in saying he'd be a good teacher as well.
He also got to know Killua a lot better. He'd only seen moments of vulnerability when Gon was in the hospital, but now he was aware of just how anxious he could be in other moments too.
Of course, with Killua always comes Alluka too, the young girl never leaves her borther's side, and during cram study sessions, she'd often stick around to watch her brother study and repeat notions to Leorio in whichever café or park they chose to go to for that day.
Leorio was somewhat aware of Alluka's powers, but he wasn't worried about it. He actually found Alluka really sweet for encouraging his brother to do his best at all times.
Killua still has his short fuse and sometimes gets mad at himself or the book when he struggles to have some topics stick in his brain, but Leorio can see he's truly trying, and he fully believes in him.
As the entrance exams for med school were approaching, Killua sought reassurance from Leorio, he wanted to know how the experience had been for him.
"Trust me, you might be an anxious wreck now, but once they're over, your first thought will be 'Huh, that wasn't as bad as I thought it'd be'."
#hxh#hunter x hunter#zoldyck#killua#killua zoldyck#hxh headcanons#leorio headcanons#hxh leorio#leorio paladiknight#leorio#hxh killua
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Mine. - Jeremy Swayman
Summary: Jeremy comes over to beg for your forgiveness, and things quickly take a turn... but not for the worst.
Word count: 3.3k (its short ik im sorry)
WARNINGS: Daddy kink, dirty talk, unprotected sex, bad writing??? idk this is porn OKAY READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. pls dont read if you're under 18 thank u!!
Note: i wrote this awhile ago for goalie week and then a bunch of stuff happened and i kept forgetting to post it bc i started my first full time job a month ago and its kicking my BUTT. anyways thanks for reading :)
You could hear your phone going off from across the room. It was Friday night and the end of a very long work week. Your boss was driving you up the wall and your personal life didn’t seem to be going much better. Your friends were good, you just didn’t get to see them as often as you wanted due to just being adults and everyone having their own full time jobs.
The one person who was supposed to make your life easier, better even, was the one currently blowing up your phone. You knew exactly who it was, but he deserved to sit there and stew for a while. But as you looked around your apartment while trying to decide what show to numb your mind with, you noticed things of his strewn everywhere. You didn’t live together, not yet anyway, but based on the amount of things you had at each others’ places, you may as well have.
Your work involved working with many different clients, and making their dreams come true. You were a travel agent, and your boss didn't exactly adhere to the typical 9-5 schedule like a normal job. If you were awake, she expected you to be able to take care of the problem.
You had already decided long ago that men didn’t always think with their brains. Jeremy was jealous, but of what you had no idea. Did you have a lot of clients who were men who wanted to surprise the lady in their lives? Yes. Did those scumbags also try and make a move on you sometimes? Also yes. But you were a professional, and always conducted yourself as such. As much as you wanted to, it wasn’t your job to fix someone else’s insecurities. You could tell Jeremy that he didn’t need to be jealous until you were blue in the face, but you didn’t know when he was going to get it. You weren’t broken up, but you’d told him you needed a minute for him to calm down. It had been a few days at that point, and you couldn’t deny you were also getting antsy. He may be a stupid guy sometimes, but he was yours.
After what had to be the millionth time of your phone going off with a DING of a text, you made yourself get up off the couch. The last message you had read:
Sway❤️: I know I’m stupid. I need you to know I’m sorry. Can I see you, please?
After the stressful week you’d had, you wanted nothing more than to feel his familiar warmth around you. The moment he was near you it was like the noise around you calmed down to its lowest level.
Y/N: I’m at home, you know where to find me.
Sway❤️: I’m on my way, be there in 20. I love you.
The next twenty minutes were going to kill you. Your apartment was already cleaned, because you liked to clean when you got anxious as mess only made you more anxious. Your doorman would recognize Jeremy and send him up when he arrived, so you didn’t need to even get up to let him in. He had his key, he knew exactly where to find you.
After an eternity, at least what felt like one, you heard the familiar sound of a key in the lock. He quietly took off his shoes by the door, and locked it behind him.
“Babe?” He called out, already walking toward the living room where you sat.
“I’m in here!” You called back. Relief washed over you when you saw him, but you didn’t get up and go to him. He had to earn you back the way you deserved.
“Where should I start?” He asked, sitting down in a chair only a few feet away from you.
“How about how you shouldn’t act jealous of my stupid clients? Or any man that I’m ever with that isn’t you? Do you really think I’m that crappy of a person that I would EVER cheat on you?”
“I know I shouldn’t, I’m sorry. I know you wouldn’t do that because you’re the best person I’ve ever known, but-“
“BUT WHAT JEREMY?” You screamed, and you know it came out louder and meaner than you wanted it to. He recoiled a little bit but didn’t lose his energy.
“I’m stupid. I’m a stupid guy, who knows you are way out of my league. It sounds like a dumb excuse, but I’m so scared of losing you. I want you, I want to love you, I want to be with you for the rest of my life. But you’ve seen the league, you’ve seen what this life can do to relationships and what it turns people into. I don’t want anything bad to happen to us. I know this isn’t the life you signed on for. I think about you being at home alone and I hate it.” He looked defeated and like he meant every word he’d said.
“You can’t lose something you already have.” You wanted to close the space between you so badly.
“You still want to be with me?” You got up and walked to the kitchen as he asked, putting away the wine you’d gotten out so it wouldn’t spoil. He followed closely, less than a few steps away. One giant step and he’d be able to close that space.
“I wouldn’t have told you to come if I didn’t. You just needed to listen, and you weren’t hearing me. You don’t have to be jealous of anyone, that isn’t who I am.”
“I hear you loud and clear now. And I’m not jealous, you’re just mine.” The tone in his voice shifted to another one you recognized.
“I’m yours huh?” You said it like you were challenging him because it sounded like he thought he already won. He should be fighting for you and showing you what that means.
“Do you need a reminder?” He closed the space, so his forehead rested against yours. You could feel his hot breath on your face, breathing in time with you. Without warning, you pressed your lips against his with a new hunger behind you. You’d missed this heat between you, the raw need to have each other right in that moment.
His hands explored your body, finding their way to your ass and lifting you up onto the counter. It was cold against your legs, the shorts you had on weren’t very long and you felt every inch of cold countertop but you didn’t care. His lips left yours with a moan and began making their way down your neck. You could feel how wet you were already getting, responding to his touch so quickly. You reached for the hem of his shirt and motioned for him to take it off. He complied in earnest, his mouth immediately returning to you.
Lifting your shirt up and over your head, your breasts became exposed for him to devour. He licked around your nipple, biting it and chasing you to arch off the counter while letting out a scream. Your nails were digging into every spot on him that he could reach. Momentarily he kissed your mouth again, bringing his still covered cock against your center. You could feel it hard against you, the friction only giving you the slightest relief.
“Please daddy, please I need-“ You tried not to beg but the torture was killing you.
“Tell me you’re mine and I’ll give you exactly what you want. Tell daddy who you belong to princess.” He whispered in your ear, continuing to kiss around your neck in the spot he knew you liked.
“YOURS. I’M YOURS!” You needed relief or you were going to go insane.
“Now was that so hard baby?” He asked. You didn’t even have the time or energy to reply as he pulled off your shorts in one big motion.
“No underwear? Even better.” You attempted to push his head toward your swollen clit, but he wouldn’t go faster than he wanted to. He kissed and bit your thighs, leaving marks where he knew no one could see. You’d have those marks there for weeks. Each kiss he got closer until you finally felt his tongue brush against your clit. You shivered as he began to devour you, your thighs clenching around his head not wanting him to escape.
He pulled back but only for a moment, instructing you to lick the fingers he was putting in front of your face. You did as he asked, and he resumed going after your pussy. In a new move, he inserted his fingers into you as he continued eating. His tongue was licking in time with his fingers as they pumped in and out of you. He was hitting a spot in you that you didn’t even know was there.
“Holy shit don’t stop, don’t stop PLEASE.” You were writhing on top of the counter as he struggled to hold you in place. He knew you were so close to your high, edging you just along that fine line. You’re burning up and he knows it. His other hand reaches up and pinches your nipple before grabbing onto your breasts like they were his lifeline.
You cursed him silently for having hair you couldn’t grab onto, but you pressed his head as if it could go further into you. His tongue quickened its pace, matching his fingers. You could feel your orgasm building and it was right there, all you needed to do was let go.
“Let go baby girl, cum on my face for me..” He whispered against your clit, and what came out of yours was a series of expletives that you didn’t care to understand. He could taste everything you were giving him, not stopping as you started to come down. Every nerve ending was on overdrive and he held you down against the counter. The wave of your orgasm rolled over you, your heart pounding in your chest. He didn’t let a single drop of you miss his mouth, and you saw his smile looking up at you as you tried to catch your breath.
He stood up without breaking eye contact, and undid his own pants. He made sure all remaining clothes of yours were off, nibbling on your ears and down your neck as he did so. In a move of complete trust, he picked you up off of the counter and carried you down to where he knew your room was. His lips found yours again and suddenly your lungs were struggling for air but you didn’t care. Your arms were hooked around his neck as he walked, kissing him like your life depended on it.
Setting you down on the bed, he laid you down on your back, and stood back to marvel at the sight of you.
“You look… “ his brain was struggling to find the right word, “fucking stunning.”
“And you have too many clothes on… sir.” You put yourself up on your elbows, looking down at his boxers that for some reason, had remained on. You didn’t need to let him finish what he was going to say, you needed him to do something more than speak.
“Sir?” He raised an eyebrow and stepped closer to you.
“Did you like that?” You knew he did but it was your way of teasing. His mouth was on yours before you could process his next movements, placing one hand to your side to balance himself and the other knotted in your hair, pulling your head back so you were looking up at him when he pulled apart. You didn’t even realize that his boxers were already off, as you felt his cock brush against your leg and pussy.
His hand left your hair and explored your leg, getting closer to its destination. His face was so close you could feel his hot breath on your face and his fingers glided over your folds, but so lightly it sent a shiver up your spine. You could hardly catch your breath but you were dying for him to touch you, to fuck you until you couldn’t remember your own name. You wanted him to hear you. His hand remained on your pussy, his fingers becoming soaked.
“So fucking wet for me baby.. did you miss me?” He quickened his fingers and began pumping them inside you. The feeling of his fingers wasn’t enough, you needed more and a whine-like moan escaped you. You whispered a response to him, and it spurred him on.
“Please Jeremy please, please I need you inside me..”
“That’s not my fucking name, not in here. In here I own you, isn't that right princess? Do you want me to be gentle?” You nod no, but that isn’t enough for him.
“Use your words princess.”
“No.”
“No, what?”
“Don’t be gentle!” You tried pushing his head towards your core again, but he remained looking at you with his fingers teasing you. He added another, stretching you from the inside. You gasped and scratched your nails up his back.
You gasp again, as you feel him part you with two fingers and put his tongue against you again. He wasn’t done tasting you yet.
“Please baby, I need your cock. Please!” Your mouth couldn’t move fast enough and you didn’t even care that he had reduced you to a begging mess beneath him. Your hips wanted to grind, needing more friction. You could feel your release building again as he sucks on your clit. It was right there, you could feel it as you clawed at your sheets trying to grab onto something but there was nothing.
Your legs spasmed around his head as your release flooded over you and he ate you once again.
“So fucking wet for me, you’re so stunning baby girl.” He kissed his way up your body and aligned himself with your entrance. He isn’t gentle as he slams into you as he kisses your mouth like you’re the only thing keeping him alive.
You’re left begging for air as his head drops down, ducking your nipple into his mouth.
“Oh god, oh fuck..” you cry out as he wasn’t holding back. He slammed into you over and over, bringing his hand up to find your clit. As he fucked you he was playing with your clit again, causing your wetness to pool onto the bed. Every single nerve you had was on fire, and only he could put it out.
“Tell me you need it, tell me how bad you want you want my cum.” The hand not on your clit slowly moves up your body to the bottom of your throat and locking his hand around it. Not putting too much pressure, but enough to lightly choke you. Both of your hands gripped his arm as you felt his cock filling you and his thighs slapping against yours. His speed was increasing and so was the hunger in his eyes.
“Oh fuck, fuck daddy please I need your cum I need you so bad..!”
“You are mine, your orgasms are mine, everything about you is mine.” Without warning he withdrew from you, earning a desperate moan. Quickly he flipped you over into your stomach, pulling your hips back so you were on your hands and knees facing away from him with your ass in the air waving him in like an invitation.
“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” He whispers into your ear from behind you. He places kisses on the spot in your neck he knows drives you crazy, running his cock along your folds at the same time. He pushes into you again and holds back nothing. Jeremy grips both of your hips with his hands and brings your hips back to meet each one of his thrusts. The sound of his thighs hitting your ass echoes throughout the room, reaching spots inside you that you didn’t know he could.
You couldn’t hold yourself up anymore, you collapsed into the bed as he fucked into you.
“So fucking tight princess, this pussy was made for me.” His nails scratch down your back eliciting a loud string of moans. His thrusts become more erratic and he brings his hand up, then down to smack your ass as hard as he could. The scream you made encouraged him more, and you could feel a third orgasm building.
“Fuck daddy, please I’m right there I need to cum daddy please..” You didn’t know how he had gotten that many out of you, but you could already tell he was determined for more.
“That’s it baby, cum for me, cum all over my cock..” He brought his hand around as he leaned into you to tease your clit some more. You were right there, you pushed back to meet his thrusts to get yourself over the hill and the relief washed over you. You moaned out his name, begging for him to fuck you harder and faster.
He loved seeing his length go in and out of you, taking all of him so well. Spreading your legs to give him a better angle, his cock continued hitting that spot inside you. He slaps your ass again, and again. You cry out, knowing his release was close behind. His hands wrap in your hair and pull you back, making you arch towards him.
“Fuck yes baby, you like it when I fuck you like this? You ready for my cum?” He chases his release just as badly as you want it from him, feeling him trying to reach his high. You nodded in response to him, not being able to form any more words. The only sounds coming from you were moans of encouragement, it felt like you could be on cloud nine.
“FUCK!” He screamed as he pulled almost all the way out, slamming back in and releasing his load into you. Jeremy almost collapsed onto you, but he brought you into his arms as he pulled out of you as his cum slowly leaked back out. You knew he thought it was the hottest thing ever. Both trying to catch your breath and come back down to earth, he pulled you in once you laid down so that you were on his chest. You could hear his heartbeat going a million miles a minute inside his chest, but it brought you a sense of calm. Your person was back where he belonged, he had finally heard you.
“I love you.” He finally spoke but he still sounded out of breath.
“I love you too.”
“No, you don’t understand. I love you, I really love you. THIS is what I want. This body, your perfect fucking curves. Every minute of every hour of every day, I want you. Not just your body, I want all of you. I’m sorry I was so stupid. I can’t promise you that I won’t make stupid choices sometimes, but I can promise to be better for you every day.”
“Jer-“ You attempted to stop him, you knew he was it too.
“Please let me finish. I want to make you feel good, I want to be the person you want to come home to every day, I want to be the person who pushes you to be the best version of yourself and make you feel like the queen of the world. You’re it for me, there is no one else. I’ve spent my whole life doubting myself and chasing this dream I couldn’t even describe. But I can see it so clearly now, and I know that dream is you. And I want to be able to have forever with you, if you’ll have me.” You took a moment to absorb his words.
“You have to make me a promise okay?” His eyes gleamed at you, like you were holding up the moon just for him.
“Anything, you name it.”
“Promise me forever. There is no past anymore, there is only us and the future we make together. I want us to help each other be better. Okay?”
“Okay. How about we start forever now?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
#nhl#hockey#danielle writes#fluff#angst#smut#jeremy swayman#boston bruins#boston bruins fic#jeremy swayman fic#jeremy swayman smut#jeremy swayman fluff#jeremy swayman x reader#jeremy swayman imagine#nhl writing#nhl imagine
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this has been the mood so far watching lmk season 5 without subtitles.
#idk what anyone's saying but wow. theres monkeys.#lego monkie kid#lmk season 5#lmk spoilers#im tagging spoilers even tho its just a single frame from the first episode to be safe#MK#sun wukong#lmk sun wukong#im piecing a surprising amount together just thru visuals and context clues#on episode 6 rn and i know shits about to get crazy#also im so glad the animation isnt bad#like the trailer made it look#its obvs not flying bark levels but thats to be expected. flying bark are built different
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caytober day 18 ft the loudest boy in all the land!!!!!!!
#cater diamond#sebek zigvolt#caytober#twst#twisted wonderland#cereal tries to draw#i love that cater [sometimes] calls him SEBBY It's so cute. hes just a baby#i am p sure he calls all the first years with -chan except jack who he uses -kun for but idk why jack is the outlier#maybe bc he seems more mature than the other first years LOL#anyway the people have spoken on that tiny poll and the people want SEBEK!!!!#I WAS SURPRISED TBH I mean. /i/ love sebek but i didnt expect him to win#if no one cared i was gonna default to mal/cay teehee. rest assured im coming for their asses#later....... i considered drawing seb being mad malleus had no votes lOL#but i like the line cay has about sebby giving him a clothes brush on his bday. so i used that#bc this is about CATER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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Feeling conflicted about the cyberpunk thingy impulse is going for because like yeah it’s a great theme and I like the aesthetics a lot but what I really like most about cyberpunk is the themes of corporate alienation and/or transhumanism etc etc which I know will not be addressed at all and in fact it’s kind of stupid of me to expect that at all from a minecraft series. Does anyone else get that or just me
#this is an issue I’ve been having with mcyt content in general you know. not ragging on impulse specifically#it’s just… I find it difficult to reconcile the quality of narrative focused mcyt content with its complete lack of commentary#should it have commentary? I believe it could if it wanted to. I don’t think it has to#but then you see these genres being… skinned and worn as cloaks#taking the aesthetics and story without any of the meaning behind it#and when it was just Minecraft builds that was expected. I guess it is still expected and I’m being a huge snob#but like. mcyt narrative is so fucked from a quality standpoint. you can’t even have villains who are other mcyters because people#will get mad at them#is that an unrelated issue? maybe. but I don’t think so#idk. mcyters aren’t expected to be storytellers and they don’t need to be#but I see these things happen over and over again and it’s just uncanny to see something that walks like a story talks like a story#but at the same time has absolutely nothing of value to say#it’s very early on so maybe there will be something done with this concept but I doubbbt it. I would be very pleasantly surprised#astro speaks#hermitcraft#not putting this in the impulse tag cause he would be more likely to see it#and I don’t want him to feel like he has to address this at all#it’s more just me noticing a trend
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Oh look a moment between Mizi and Hyuna, nothing to see here, just two girlfriends having a small argument that was Round 7
#alnst hyuna#alnst mizi#Alien Stage#hyunamizi#ldjdoz jk jk#rip till#tbh i wasn't sure what to expect but i wasn't really that surprised by Till lost..#though idk i feel like he ain't dead#but then again i'm prepared to see Ivan and Sua return so maybe i'm just hella delusionnal zkfjzikdos
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I’m making a shortbox comic this year! I’m excited to share my first ever original comic hehe! It’s about workplace incidents, kind of… ✂️💥
#Didn’t personally see it coming that I would be drawing a comic this year but I am! hurray! idk what to say…#I’m honestly so excited! also sorry but it’s in black and white I love color but I couldn’t do that many colored pages for a first comic#I hope it’s like what you would expect but also not at all like you would expect I love to surprise myself and other ppl with my art#I’ll share stuff when I get further along I’m about 1/3 through drawing all the pages so far…
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