Product Placement
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EXPECTATIONS
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Love Begins
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YOU ARE THE REASON
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@justyoursimpleflower
Masterlist
Marauders Era
James Potter
I'm Yours (to be edited)
Gorgeous (to be edited)
Sirius Black
Always Been You (too be edited)
A Tiny Human Being (to be edited) (wolfstar's daughter)
Remus Lupin
Golden Thread (to be edited)
A Tiny Human Being (to be edited) (wolfstar's daughter)
Regulus Black
Mon Amour(to be edited)
Lily Evans
Part-2 (to be edited)
Ships in the Night (to be edited)
A Letter of Love, A Letter of Apology (to be edited)
Note:- The photos belong to their respectful owners, I got them from pinterest and used them. The masterlist will be updated with every post.
@titannaic thank you for telling me to make a masterlist, I think I wouldn't have even thought. So here is it.
Haiiii! can we please get a part 2 of the father!regulus fic with elara? maybe this time where it's her first day of kindergarten and shes so nervous so reader and Regulus help her prepare as they both are sad their little girl is grown up. Your fic gave me smm baby fever and i need some domestic fluff Regulus fics. thxxx :3
slipping through my fingers
regulus black x reader | 2.8k
summary: when elara’s first day of kindergarten arrives, you and regulus find yourselves torn between pride and heartache. as you comfort her nerves and hide your own, you’re forced to face the truth; your little girl is growing up.
warnings: your daughter's name is elara, brief moments of a child crying, lots of kid rambling nonsense, nostalgic vibes, pure fluff with a happy, comforting tone and no angst, this is kinda a part 2 but can be read as a stand alone. can u tell i'm having intense baby fever.
find more of father!regulus with elara here!
The playroom floor is a battlefield of scattered blocks, dolls lying facedown, and pages of half-colored drawings. But right now, all of that has been forgotten. Elara sits on the rug in her pink dress, legs tucked under her, bottom lip jutting out so far you worry it might stay that way forever.
Her little fingers twist the strap of her backpack—a glittery princess one that she had insisted on wearing as soon as she woke up, even though it’s nearly empty aside from pens and coloring pages she stuffed inside.
You crouch down to her level, the ache in your knees nothing compared to the tight squeeze in your chest when you see her eyes go glassy.
“Hey, love,” you say softly, brushing one of her pigtails back into place. “You know what today is, right?”
Her voice is tiny, muffled as she buries her chin against her chest. “Kind’r-garten.”
“That’s right,” you nod encouragingly, even though your throat feels too tight to swallow. “And do you know what happens there?”
Elara shakes her head, eyes flicking up at you with suspicion.
“Well,” you lower yourself all the way, crossing your legs crisscross like she always demands of you when playing tea party. “You’re going to meet so many new friends. Kids your age who like drawing and singing and maybe even princesses just like you. And you’ll get to play with them every day.”
Her bottom lip trembles. “But… not with you.”
Your heart cracks, but you wrap your arms around her small frame and pull her close until her warm cheek presses into your shoulder. “Not while you’re at school, no. But guess what? The second school is done, Daddy and I will be right there waiting to pick you up. You’ll see our faces first thing when you come out. Always.”
She peeks up, suspicious. “Always always?”
“Always always,” you promise, smoothing your hand down her back. “Cross my heart.”
Her fingers tug at your shirt. “What if you forget?”
You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. “Sweetheart, do you know how impossible that is? Daddy is already in the kitchen making your lunchbag. He’s probably struggling to pack it. Besides, how could we ever forget you, hmm?”
From the kitchen, you hear Regulus mutter, “I heard that,” which makes Elara giggle despite her tears.
You lean closer, whispering like you’re telling her a secret. “See? He’s just as nervous as you are.”
That gets another smile out of her, but her eyes drop again, uncertain. “But it’s sooo long. Six hours!” She holds up her little hand, fingers spread as if trying to count them out. “That’s… forever.”
You kiss her knuckles, one by one. “It feels like forever now. But I promise, when you’re busy coloring and singing and running outside, the time will go so fast you’ll hardly notice. And then—boom! Daddy and I will be there.”
Elara scrunches her nose, still doubtful. “What if I don’t make any friends?”
“Then you’ll have me and Regulus help you practice tonight,” you reply easily, brushing her cheek. “We can play pretend school right here, and tomorrow you’ll try again. But I think you will make friends. You’re too sweet not to. Someone’s going to see you and think, ‘I want to sit next to her.’”
Her little pout deepens. “What if they don’t like princesses?”
You press another kiss to her cheeks, smiling. “Then they don’t know what they’re missing. And maybe they’ll show you what they like, and you’ll teach them about princesses. That’s what friends do—share things with each other.”
Her voice grows small, fragile. “Will you miss me?”
“More than anything,” you say immediately, your chest tightening again. “I’m probably going to cry when you walk in that door.”
She gasps, scandalized. “Mommy, no!”
You laugh, wiping her cheek with your thumb. “Okay, maybe just a little bit. A tiny cry, but only because I love you so much. And because you’re growing up into the bravest girl I know.”
The sound of the fridge door shutting carries from the kitchen, and a moment later Regulus steps into the doorway. In his hand is a small lunch bag, dark blue with tiny moons and stars stitched across the fabric. He sets it gently on the table with a quiet little tap.
“There you go,” he says, brushing his palms together as though to shake off the last of the morning rush. His voice softens when he looks at her. “Packed you extra strawberries. I know they’re your favorite.”
Elara blinks at the bag, then at him. The corners of her mouth twitch before she gives the tiniest smile, muffled behind a sniffle. “Thank you,” she mumbles.
“You don’t have to thank me, baby,” Regulus replies, crouching down so he’s level with her.
She lets out a reluctant laugh, small but real, and finally shifts her backpack strap higher on her shoulder. “Okay. I’ll go. But only ‘cause you’ll be there after.”
You hug her close, your heart full and aching all at once. “We’ll always be there after,” you promise against her hair.
When you let go, she wavers, uncertain, until Regulus sweeps her up without a word. One moment she’s standing between you, the next she’s folded against his chest, her small fingers curling tight into the collar of his shirt like if she let go, she might float away. He adjusts her easily on his hip, her shoes bumping softly against him as he steadies her.
“You’ll like it,” he said, brushing her hair back behind her ear as they crossed the drive. “It’s just like when you play pretend teacher with your dolls, except the dolls talk back.”
That earned the tiniest of giggles, her cheek pressed into his shoulder. You walked beside them with the lunchbox in hand, trying not to let your heart crack at how small she looked, tucked against him like that.
By the time Regulus had her settled into her car seat and buckled in, she was already bouncing back, legs kicking against the leather with a burst of restless energy.
Kids really do switch moods quickly.
“Daddy, do they have windows in school?” she asked the moment the door shut.
“They have windows,” you assured her, tucking her bag at her feet.
“Like, big ones? So I can see outside all the time?”
“Yes, Elara. Big ones.” Regulus glanced at her in the rearview mirror, one brow raised.
“Okay,” she said quickly, already leaning forward against her straps. “But do I get to sit wherever I want? Or do they make you sit in order? And if they make us sit in order, what if I don’t like the person next to me? What if they’re mean?”
“You’ll find your spot,” Regulus said calmly. “And if anyone’s mean, you’ll tell your teacher.”
She nodded gravely, but within a heartbeat, another thought tumbled out. “But what if I don’t like the food?”
“You don’t have to eat it if you don’t want to,” you said gently.
Her eyes went wide. “But what if I throw up? Do I get in trouble for throwing up?”
“No one gets in trouble for that,” you said, trying to answer all her questions.
She tilted her head, frowning as if testing your words. Then, without pause, “Okay, but what if I forget where the bathroom is? Do I have to hold it forever?”
Regulus let out a quiet laugh, starting the car as he glanced at her in the rearview mirror. “No, Elara. They don’t make you pass a test on bathroom locations before you’re allowed to use one.”
“But what if I really can’t find it?” she pressed, her voice climbing in urgency. “Like, what if it’s a secret bathroom and nobody tells me?”
You laughed, shaking your head. “Sweetheart, every school has bathrooms. They’re not going to hide them from you.”
She sat back, satisfied for only a moment before blurting, “Okay what if nobody wants to play with me? Or what if everybody wants to play with me at the same time and I don’t know what to do? What if—”
“Elara,” Regulus interrupted gently. “You’re going to be just fine.”
Elara, oblivious, leaned forward as much as her straps allowed. “Mummy, Aunt Lily said she’d teach me how to read properly, but she already showed Harry so I think that’s unfair because now he’s better at it than me. And speaking of Harry—” her little face scrunched— “I don’t want to play with him. He’s annoying.”
“Elara.” Your tone was sharp enough to snap her ramble short. “That’s not a nice thing to say. You wouldn’t like it if someone said you were annoying, would you?”
“But he is,” she insisted, folding her arms. “He never does what I say. I wanted to play castle, and I told him he had to be the princess, because I was the queen, but he wouldn’t! He said it was dumb!”
“Because he doesn’t have to dress up just because you want him to,” you countered. “You can’t force people to play your way all the time, love.”
Regulus finally allowed himself a laugh under his breath, one hand steady on the wheel.
Elara perked right back up, seizing on the subject change. “Daddy, can I open the window?”
“No,” you said immediately.
“Please? Just a little bit?”
“No, Elara.”
She fiddled with the button anyway, the window whirring down an inch before you snapped, “Regulus, put the child lock on—now.”
He pressed the button with a barely concealed grin, while your daughter made a dramatic noise of betrayal.
“That’s not fair!” she cried. “Why do you always ruin everything?”
“You’ll thank me when your hair isn’t tangled into one giant knot,” you retorted.
By the time the school building came into view, she was half singing to herself, tapping her shoes against the seat rhythmically, while you sat in the passenger seat massaging your temples and wondering how on earth one small human being could contain so much noise.
Regulus glanced at you, smirking faintly as though reading your thoughts. “Don’t worry. She will be okay.”
“Yeah, she will,” you muttered.
Regulus had barely set Elara down after unbuckling her that she was already demanding her backpack. She slipped the straps over her shoulders with an exaggerated seriousness, lips pursed.
But the moment the three of you reached the kindergarten gates, her posture crumbled. The energy that had been bubbling in the car—her endless questions—evaporated.
The entrance was swarmed with parents, kids clutching lunch boxes and water bottles, some crying, some squealing, some clinging desperately to their mothers’ legs.
Elara froze.
You felt the tiny grip on your arm tighten until her nails dug into your skin. She pressed her cheek against you, wide eyes flickering nervously from the crowd to the big, open classroom doors.
Your chest tugged painfully.
“What’s wrong, baby?” You whispered, bending slightly so your forehead brushed her hair.
She shook her head hard, curls bouncing. Her bottom lip trembled. “I don’t wanna go,” she whispered, voice breaking in a way that made your stomach sink.
You and Regulus exchanged a look. He was already crouching down, arms out like he could catch her fear in his hands before it swallowed her whole. You followed, gently pulling her a step away from the classroom door, away from the overwhelming noise of other children.
“Baby,” you said softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “It’s okay to feel nervous. But I promise you, it’s going to be fun. There will be toys and songs and games—”
“And friends,” Regulus added quickly, offering her a small smile. His voice had that careful steadiness he always used when she was on the verge of tears. “So many friends. The day will go by fast, and before you know it, we’ll be back to pick you up.”
Her watery eyes darted between the two of you. “But I’ll miss you.”
You swallowed the ache in your throat. “Oh, sweetheart. We’ll miss you too. But missing someone means you love them, right? And we’ll love you the whole time you’re here.”
Regulus leaned closer, lowering his voice like he was letting her in on a secret. “And after school…” He tilted his head, smirking just slightly. “We can go get some ice cream. What do you think?”
Her pout deepened. She didn’t answer, just stared at him with glassy eyes, silent challenge written all over her tiny face.
He cracked instantly. His shoulders slumped, a breathy laugh slipping out. “Oh, mon étoile,” he whispered, the French slipping off his tongue like second nature. “No tears. C’mere.”
Elara launched herself forward, colliding with his chest. He scooped her up, holding her tight while she sniffled against his collar.
“Don’t forget me,” she mumbled against his chest.
Regulus closed his eyes briefly, pressing his cheek against her hair. “Could never forget my girl,” His voice broke just slightly, but he covered it with a kiss to her temple.
She pulled back, staring at him as though she was making sure he meant it. When he nodded, her little arms loosened, and she turned toward you.
You held out your arms. She came willingly, wrapping herself around you with surprising strength. You kissed the crown of her head, breathing her in.
For a second, you wanted to tell her it was fine, that she didn’t have to go, that you could keep her safe at home forever. But you didn’t.
You whispered instead, “I love you so much, my sweet girl. Now go on, okay? Show everyone how brave you are.”
Her little voice was muffled in your shoulder. “Mommy… make sure Daddy doesn’t forget me.”
A laugh burst out of you before you could stop it. Regulus huffed a soft laugh too, shaking his head. “You think I’m that hopeless?”
You teased, “Maybe a little.”
He leaned forward, kissing Elara’s knuckles. “Don’t worry. I won’t forget. Not even for a second.”
Finally, reluctantly, she slid down from your arms. You and Regulus each held one of her hands as you walked her back to the classroom door. She hesitated in the doorway, wide-eyed at the sea of toys and new faces.
Then, spotting a little girl stacking blocks in the corner, she took a small breath, squared her shoulders, and padded over to sit beside her. Within seconds, the two were sharing the blocks, chatter already spilling between them.
You felt something heavy lift from your chest—only to be replaced by a different heaviness, the ache of letting go.
Elara looked up once, caught sight of you both, and waved shyly. You and Regulus lifted your hands in return, smiling as if your hearts weren’t breaking in half.
Then the teacher beckoned the children further in, and Elara turned away.
Regulus’s hand found yours as you stepped back into the hallway. His grip was warm, steady. You squeezed it once, holding back the sting in your eyes.
“She’s fine,” he murmured, like he was reminding himself as much as you.
“Yeah, she’s fine,” you echoed.
The words lingered in the car as the two of you pulled away from the school, Elara’s small figure still fresh in your mind.
As you drove, the silence wasn’t heavy. It was thoughtful. You found yourself staring out the window, marveling at how quickly time had folded over itself.
Just yesterday—at least it felt that way—you and Regulus were the ones in pressed uniforms, rushing through exams, whispering about futures that seemed impossible.
Now here you were, dropping your daughter off for her own first day, a whole new cycle beginning.
You sighed softly, chest tightening at the realization. That’s when his hand reached over, warm and steady, wrapping around yours. You turned, and he was already watching you, a small smile tugging at his lips, adoration flickering plain across his face.
“Hey, amour?” he said, breaking the quiet.
Your brows lifted in question, and he squeezed your hand once more before leaning slightly toward you. “Thank you,” he whispered.
You blinked, caught off guard. “For what?”
His thumb brushed against your knuckles as if the answer was obvious, but he said it anyway, softer than before.
“For loving me… and for giving me this life.” The way he looked at you then, like you were the beginning and the end of every miracle, made your throat tighten.
And as your hand lingered in his, you felt just as thankful for him, for this life he’d built with you, as he was for you. Grateful not only for his love, but for the strength it took to grow past the shadows of the home he came from.
It was the kind of love that made time feel slippery, like grains of sand you could never quite keep from slipping through your fingers—yet all the more beautiful for how fragile it was.
Your smile softened, your answer a quiet vow. “Always. For as long as time lets me.”
— CALM AFTER THE STORM
pairing: remus lupin x reader
summary: the 4 times you hate each other, and the one time you don’t. alternatively, remus lupin is a pain in your arse and yours alone.
warnings: enemies to lovers, swearing, kissing, mention of blood and wounds, some bad writing as always which is unedited
author’s note: just a little e2l fic for my own indulgence as its my fave trope and its criminal how i barely have any e2l fics… also haven’t written anything in ages soooo enjoy!
when he just has to be controversial
The sun was beaming, colourful rays reflecting over your book through the stained-glass windows of the Gryffindor common room as you lounged on the sofa with your head in Lily’s lap. You were barely paying attention to the chatter of your friends around you, choosing to focus on your copy of ‘The Catcher in the Rye’ and Marlene’s soft guitar playing. The lazy afternoon is a welcome break from the increasingly stressful N.E.W.T lessons that have had you all so exhausted, you’re not sure if Peter is asleep or dead from his curled-up position on the rug.
You don’t even realise someone is saying your name until Marlene tickles the sole of your socked foot with her guitar pick, making you yelp and draw your legs in from where they were previously tucked in between Marlene and her guitar.
“What was that for?” you grumble, nudging her arm with your foot.
Marlene smirks, nodding over to James. “He told me to get your attention. Didn’t specify how.”
You roll your eyes and turn on your side to face the boy in question, his grin unfaltering as he multitasks polishing the handle of his broomstick and talking to you. “Not my fault you’re dead to the world when you’re reading,” he says, matter-of-fact, continuing when you raise your eyebrows in impatience. “I was just wondering how you could look so interested in that book. Remus said he’d do my homework for a month if I finished it the other day and I couldn’t get past five arse-numbingly dull pages.”
You scoff, adjusting your position again to face Remus as well. “And why was Remus betting you to read my book, exactly?”
“It was my copy,” Remus replies, scribbling away on his parchment, cross legged on his chair, to undoubtedly finish the Potions essay that Slughorn had set yesterday. You’re transfixed on the way his hand is moving across the page for a second, unable to fathom how someone can have such messy handwriting. You aren’t surprised in the slightest that the next words coming out of his mouth are ones you disagree with. “I wanted to see how long he lasted reading the slowest-paced book in the world.”
You abruptly sit up at this, shutting your book and forgetting plans of relaxation.
“Hey, watch it!” Lily exclaims, lifting the bottle of black polish she’s using to paint Sirius’ nails from its balanced position on her thigh to avoid you spilling it all over her white top. “If you’re about to argue, please refrain from throwing things until after I’ve done the second coat of nail polish.”
You pointedly ignore this and narrow your eyes at Remus who, infuriatingly, still hasn’t lifted his head from his essay. “I’m surprised you found it hard to read such a slow book. Thought that’d be perfect for you.”
“Look what you’ve started, Prongs,” Sirius sighs, examining his nails.
Seeing the corners of Remus’ lips pull up into a slight smile at your comment just spurs you on in defence of the book you were previously enjoying. “Besides, it’s about a real-life teenager with real-life struggles, not The Hobbit on his latest adventure.”
“Who’s Hobbit?” James mumbles, scratching his head in confusion as Marlene just shrugs, equally oblivious.
“It’s overrated,” Remus insists, finally setting down his quill to look at you. The amused expression still hasn’t left his face and you make a noise halfway between a scoff and a high-pitched squeal of indignance. “Even James agrees.”
“Oh, and James’ opinion on literature is the standard now?” You raise a brow, tutting when James starts to protest. “The only book James has finished in the last six years was Quidditch Through the Ages.”
The way James slowly slides the aforementioned book under one of the sofa cushions doesn’t go unnoticed by anyone. Sirius starts snickering, much to Lily’s annoyance as she tries to control his hand. “She got you there, in fairness, mate.”
Sirius’ chortling seems to stir Peter from his sleep and he opens one eye to peer at you. Seeming to catch sight of your irritated expression, he frowns. “Are these two arguing like an old married couple again?”
“Merlin help us if these two ever decide to get married,” Marlene utters under her breath, bent over her guitar and avoiding the weight of your glare.
“Yeah, he wishes,” you grumble, shuffling around on the sofa to get back into a comfortable position with your book. Remus’ smile has only widened in response and he seems to enjoy your discomfort as you overcompensate for showing your annoyance by wriggling about.
“I dream about it every night,” Remus replies, dryly and Peter giggles below you before turning over to sleep again.
You overcompensate a little too much by moving around, because Lily huffs from beside you and starts scrambling around for a tissue. “What did I say about the second coat?”
“I didn’t throw anything this time!”
2. when he won’t let you give someone a black eye
Defence Against the Dark Arts is your favourite N.E.W.T subject for a lot of reasons. You enjoy the lesson content, it’ll be useful in future years, and it’s the one lesson you share with every single one of your friends.
You’ve gotten used to James and Sirius messing around while Professor Marigold recites fact after fact about spells and creatures and wizards of dark nature. Its like soothing background noise to you and your classmates who all concentrate in silence most of the time.
Which is why your quill stops on your page and leaves a growing ink blot when you hear snickering and whispers from the other side of the classroom rather than from in front of you where the marauders sit in a line.
The scoffs of disgust coming from Snape and Mulciber are loud enough to attract the attention of the rest of the students and even the teacher, who eventually sets down her piece of chalk in the middle of talking about Wolfsbane potion with an impatient sigh.
“Is there some sort of pressing issue that can’t wait until after class to discuss, boys?” Professor Marigold asks with a tone of ire that would impress Professor McGonagall. “Even Black and Potter have decided to give it a rest today.”
She’s not wrong, you think, noting how they’ve been less disruptive than usual for this lesson, probably tired out from setting each other’s robes on fire in Charms the hour before.
“The pressing issue is werewolves,” Snape mutters quietly, as though he doesn’t want to make a big issue but can’t stop himself from speaking up. “We should be learning more about how to kill them and less about the price of potion ingredients.”
Lily gasps from beside you and Sirius and James tense up at his words. Remus doesn’t lift his head, but you absently notice how his grip tightens around his quill when Peter nervously turns to him. Peter isn’t one for conflict and he’s always been nervous around this particular group of Slytherins, so you’re not surprised he’s anxious.
“Werewolves are still people, you can’t just go around killing them!” you find your mouth moving on its own, before your brain can catch up. When Snape turns to direct his scowl at you, its matched by your own as well as Lily’s disappointed frown. “They didn’t ask to be werewolves, they physically can’t help it! How would you feel if people wanted to kill you for not being able to control being such an arse.”
“Miss Y/L/N,” Professor Marigold warns, setting her stern eyes on you. You’re not one for disrupting lessons or getting into trouble, so when Remus turns around to look at you with a raised eyebrow, your cheeks start to warm and you stubbornly don’t look his way again.
Snape ignores her to continue glaring at you. “I don’t have the capacity to kill people in a feral rage now, do I?” His gaze flits from you to Lily and Marlene and then lingers on the boys. “Of course, you’re defending werewolves. It’s no surprise considering who you choose to associate yourself with.”
“Mr Snape.”
“You have no need to fly into a feral rage to kill people,” you reply, voice steadily rising in volume. Sirius and James turn their heads back and forth like they’re watching a tennis match and you know the only reason they haven’t piped up to agree with you is because they’re too entertained watching the way you’re about to jump out of your seat to pounce on Snape. “All you need to do is show someone your face for them to die of fright–”
“ENOUGH!” Professor Marigold’s booming voice cuts through the laughter of everyone on the Gryffindor side of the classroom and when you turn to look at her, you see even Remus’ shoulders are shaking with silent laughter. You’re not sure why this pleases you, but it doesn’t last long enough for you to figure it out before Marigold waves her wand in the direction of the door and sends it flying open. “Both of you will wait for me outside the classroom until the lesson has finished so I can discuss your appalling behaviour.”
You gape at her for a second, before relenting and grabbing your bag, not wanting to argue with her authority. Your friends have different ideas.
“That’s not fair!” Marlene exclaims, standing up in protest. “She didn’t even do anything wrong.”
“Yeah,” James agrees, also standing up. “Snape’s the one who was being an annoying pri–”
“Sit down, everyone,” Marigold cuts him off, pursing her lips. “Everyone except Mr Snape and Miss Y/L/N. Do not even think about speaking Mr Black, or I won’t hesitate to suspend your and Mr Potter’s Quidditch privileges until further notice.”
Sirius shuts his mouth after a nudge from James and you shoot your friends a grateful smile before making your way out of the classroom, followed closely by Snape.
The door shuts behind him and you don’t bother sparing him a glance before dumping your bag on the ground and leaning against a wall to focus your gaze on a suit of armour for the next five minutes. You’re about half a minute in when you notice that one of the hands are slightly wonky and the classroom door suddenly opens.
Remus, of all people, enters the hallway to join the two of you and quickly shuts the door.
“What are you doing here?” you ask, furrowing your brows and getting up from against the wall.
“Yeah, what are you doing here?” Snape sneers at him, and you give him a scathing look before turning to Remus for an answer.
Remus pointedly ignores him to stand next to you against the brick wall. “I just pointed out to Professor Marigold that you both have your wands and she may not have two students left out here by the end of the lesson.”
“I can defend myself,” you snort, folding your arms. You aren’t sure if you’re annoyed that Remus is insinuating otherwise, or if you’re touched that he doesn’t want you to be hexed into oblivion by Snape. “Especially from him.”
“Oh, I know,” Remus raises both hands in surrender as his tone becomes grave. “It’s not you I’m worried about, trouble.”
“Ha ha,” you deadpan, rolling your eyes at the nickname. He started it around a year ago when you got your first ever detention for helping Sirius and James Charm the Slytherin chairs to throw them off every time someone sat. Your friends had kept quiet about your involvement, but Peeves had spotted you, the nosy bastard. The nickname stemmed from the fact it was the first time you had ever gotten into trouble and it never failed to irritate you. “You better be careful I don’t hex you.”
“I wouldn’t dream of annoying you,” he says, but the serious tone of voice is ruined by the way his lips are twitching in an attempt not to laugh at you. “After what happened when I said I didn’t like that one Jane Austen book? Forget it.”
“Hey, you insulted one of my favourite characters,” you point out, resting a hand on your hip. “What did Emma ever do to you? You had that hex coming.”
“I had pink hair for a week,” Remus narrows his eyes at you, but you can tell he isn’t really angry. Although he refuses to admit it, you know for a fact he didn’t hate the pink hair considering how good he looked with it. An annoying indiscretion on your part. Remus looks behind you for a split second before leaning in a little to whisper. “I won’t get in the way if you want to turn Snape’s hair pink, though. Preferably a very bright shade of flaming, hot pink.”
At risk of your own cheeks flaming up from how close he is – really, what’s the need? – you shake your head let your hair fall into your face. Almost having forgotten Snape is also there, you start when he scoffs (for what you think is the millionth time this afternoon) and you sigh before facing him begrudgingly. “What now?”
“Couldn’t handle the content of today’s lesson?” he asks, tiling his head. You’re about to ask him what the hell he’s talking about before you realise, he isn’t actually talking to you, but to the boy behind you.
“Uh…” you trail off, not sure how to respond. All three of you currently standing in the corridor know that Remus is smart enough to tackle any type of content, especially something as memorable and interesting as werewolves.
Remus’ amused demeanour has been wiped away and you can’t determine his exact expression, but his voice is cold when he talks to you. “Just ignore him.”
“You and your group of friends can’t help themselves when it comes to defending strays and all sorts,” Snape continues, much to your confusion. “It’s not enough that you’re a group full of blood-traitors and mudbloods…”
Remus tenses up behind you and you find yourself frozen for a second.
The next thing you know, you’re lunging at the greasy-haired Slytherin with every intention of hurting his face with your fists, wand long forgotten. Your fingers barely brush his robes, however, when you feel yourself being hauled back by strong arms that wrap around your middle.
“Let go!” you snarl, enjoying the way Snape has backed away, eyes wide and worried. “Did you hear what he said? Remus, let me go.”
He doesn’t relent, still holding onto you when he leans down to speak in your ear. “You’ve already gotten into trouble. You’ll get into a whole lot more when everyone walks out to see Snape with a black eye and you with bruised knuckles.”
“Worth it,” you grit out, still pulling away from his grip and throwing daggers with your eyes at Snape. After a few more seconds of pointless struggling, you relax very slightly just to turn in his arms so you can direct your next words to him more pointedly. “Not only is he a slimy, blood-supremacist twat, but he also wants to kill a poor bunch of werewolves. We should be throwing him into the bloody Black Lake!”
“I know, I-” Remus is cut off when the door opens and students start flooding into the corridor to provide a barrier between you and Snape, indicating the end of the lesson. Remus finally lets you go when he realises you’re in direct view of Professor Marigold who stands behind her desk, waiting for you. “I had no idea you were such an advocate for werewolves.”
It’s the last thing you expected him to say and you immediately look up at him and frown. “Again, they’re people. They don’t deserve to be victims of prejudice just as no one does.” He doesn’t respond, staring at you with an unreadable expression and a hint of a smile. Your frown deepens in confusion. Was he… laughing at you? Especially after you had just gotten along. “I’m so glad you find me amusing,” you say, scowling and storming back into the classroom and away from Remus.
3. when he's too good for flower crowns.
“Tell it again,” James insists, grin wide as ever plastered onto his face despite the withering look you send his way. “Getting a glimpse at even the possibility of Snivellus getting pummelled by Y/N would have made my entire year.”
“The galleons I’d give up to have been there,” Sirius releases a wistful sigh, closing his eyes as he lies down, facing the sun.
You hand him the daisy chain crown you just finished and he dutifully dons it. “I’ll alert the Ministry of Magic to order in a time-turner for an issue of utmost urgency,” you say sarcastically as you start on the next daisy chain. Sirius merely winks at you.
“I think you should’ve let her have at him, Remus,” Marlene states, unapologetic. You nod vehemently in agreement, a little too enthusiastically as you end up splitting a daisy down the middle.
Lily tuts, adjusting her own flower crown as it slips against her silky red hair. “I’m glad you didn’t. Godric knows what Professor Marigold would have done,” she shudders at the thought, ever the diligent student.
“Forget Marigold,” Peter chimes in. “Imagine what Professor McGonagall would have done.”
You don’t miss how he looks over his shoulder in case your head of house is taking a stroll along the grassy grounds.
“She would have combusted when you called him an ugly arse,” Remus pipes in, unhelpfully might you add, from where he sits slightly away from the group under a tree, reading.
The comment sends Marlene, Sirius and Peter into a fit of laughter – James is too busy staring at the way the sun is making Lily look ethereal and she’s too busy pretending not to notice while being secretly pleased. Doing a quick survey of your friends, you see everyone now has a flower crown except Remus. You make your way to the tree he’s resting against while the others chat, and sit yourself down with purpose.
Remus lowers his book very slightly to peer at you and your too-sweet smile. He raises a sceptical brow. “Should I be scared right now?”
You drop the fake smile and hold up your flower crown expectantly. “Everyone has one, but you.”
“How observant,” he says, setting his book down to look at you in mock astonishment. “Have the Aurors at the Ministry caught wind of you yet?”
“Don’t be a pain,” you groan, dropping it onto his open book. “I want everyone to wear one for the picture!”
Remus sighs, looking at the large camera over by your bag. You had saved up all summer to buy a magical camera to be able to take pictures of you and your friends in your final year at Hogwarts. The time you used your own muggle camera was a disaster of sparks and broken bits of plastic that took hours to mend. “I already agreed to your incessant picture-taking,” he reminds you, acting like it’s the most painful thing in the world. “The flower crown is not happening.”
“Fine, you miserable git,” you flick a handful of grass at him, sending him sputtering. “Now come and sit for the photo.”
You return to the group with Remus behind you and get everyone in position before hunting down someone to take the photo. Glancing around, you spot a close bunch of first-years and send Lily to use her Head Girl credentials (and warm and inviting personality, of course) to rope one of them into coming over.
“Okay, smile everyone,” you order, plopping down on the grass next to James. You elbow him in the ribs, not even having to look at him to know what he’s doing. “Stop looking at Lily and look at the camera.”
With a couple of mutterings and some nudging, the nervous first-year Hufflepuff girl shakily takes the picture and hurriedly hands you the camera in the middle of the picture sliding out of it. James and Sirius go back to playing with a golden Snitch while Peter watches, while Remus returns to his book.
Lily looks at the picture and coos over how cute everyone looks at the same time as Marlene complaining about her hair. You impatiently take the picture back to slide it into your photo album and something catches your eye.
Sirius is making a peace sign behind Remus’ head. His head that wears a flower crown.
4. when he bleeds out on you.
You’re not sure what time it is – either very late at night, or very early in the morning. You do know, however, that you want to finish your Herbology essay so you can enjoy tomorrow (or today) and cheer your friends on in the Gryffindor vs Ravenclaw Quidditch game. You only have the conclusion left and you’re confident it’ll be done in the next ten minutes.
If you can find your damned quill, that is. You could have sworn you had it ten minutes ago, just before you snuck down to the kitchens to persuade the house-elves to give you the strongest cup of coffee they could make. You take a quick sip and grimace at the lukewarm temperature before setting it down and getting up to search. After turning every sofa cushion upside down, you go to crouch behind the sofa.
You hear the door to the common room being swung open and the hushed voices of the Marauders enter, but you don’t take too much notice as you squint for your quill. It isn’t unusual for the boys to be roaming around the castle at odd hours of the night, but a hiss of pain grabs your attention at the same time you spot the quill.
“Can you guys manage taking him up to the-” Sirius cuts himself off when your face pops up from behind the sofa. He freezes in his efforts to hold up Remus, who you notice is leaning on him and James and Merlin’s balls he’s covered in blood.
“What the fuck happened to him?” Your voice comes out weak as you walk over to the boys. Remus has deep, bleeding slashes over his chest and an assortment of little cuts on his face and hands. He seems barely able to keep his eyes open but when his gaze meets yours, he winces. He isn’t the only one hurt and you realise Sirius’ arm is damp with blood and trembling, the same going for James’ thigh. “What the fuck happened to all of you, oh my God…?”
“Peter, you were supposed to keep watch,” James hisses at the boy who looks like a deer in headlights. He looks a lot better than the others, with only a couple of small cuts scattered around his face and arms.
“She was behind the sofa!”
James’ leg buckles and you snap out of your state of shock to dart forward and keep him steady. “Right. Shit, okay,” you breathe out, holding off asking any questions to prevent anyone from bleeding out. “James, Sirius, set Remus down on the sofa and take off his shirt. Peter, help these two up the stairs and go find a first-aid kit or something.”
“We’ve got a couple in the dorm,” Sirius says, summoning one of them down with a quick Accio and handing it to you. He hesitates for a second, probably unsure if he should stay and explain things, before deciding to turn in the direction of the stairs with James as Peter rushes to help them up. “Look after him, please. We’ll be right back, Moony.”
“Take your time, I’ve got him,” you utter, already fiddling with the first-aid box and trying to open it with shaky hands. You’re no healer, but you know enough to panic when you see Remus has had his eyes closed for the last few seconds. “Remus, keep your eyes open!”
He groans, cracking one eye open to look at you. “I’m injured and bleeding out and you still manage to yell at me.”
“I wasn’t yelling,” you frown, unscrewing the bottle of dittany and scrambling for the cotton pads. You try to avoid Remus’ gaze because you feel extremely silly about being more panicked than him when he’s the one with claw marks down his chest. “Don’t move, or it’ll hurt.”
While dabbing the liquid onto the deep gashes in an attempt to close them up, you ponder on the fact that he probably knows it hurts from experience. You’re not completely clueless.
“What are you thinking?” Remus whispers in the stifling quiet of the common room, looking unsure.
You don’t cease in your movements, changing cotton pad after cotton pad. It takes you a minute to muster up the courage to meet Remus’ gaze again and this time he looks more nervous than you’ve ever seen him. “You’re a werewolf, aren’t you?”
Remus gives you an almost imperceptible nod, like he doesn’t want to admit to it. You take a deep breath.
“Who else knows?” you ask calmly, as if you’re asking him about the weather.
“The boys and Lily,” he admits, swallowing hard. “Oh, and Snape.”
“Snape?” you exclaim, halting your dabbing to gawp at Remus. “I’m not saying you had to tell me or anything, but Snape?”
Remus winces and you don’t think it has anything to do with his injuries. “In my defence he found out on his own and hates me for it,” he rushes out. “And it’s not that I didn’t want to tell you… I-”
“It’s fine,” you cut him off, waving him off and wondering how good you’re hiding the fact you’re a little hurt. “You didn’t have to tell me.”
“No, I wanted to. I did,” Remus insists, looking earnest. There’s something in his voice that’s a little pained and desperate that has you meeting his eyes. “I just couldn’t have dealt with it if you started looking at me differently. The boys and Lily sometimes do, y’know? Like I’m made of glass or something. It’s refreshing whenever you scowl at me or call me an idiot or an arse or a stupid gi-”
“Okay,” you stop him, stifling a grin. “I get it!”
Remus’ eyes flash with relief for a second before you notice doubt start to creep in again. “You don’t need to hide it, by the way. I won’t hold it against you if… If you’re scared or disgusted, or-”
“What?” you cut him off again and scrunch your nose in confusion. “I’m not scared or disgusted. Why would you think that?”
“You’ve been a bit too calm,” he points out.
Rolling your eyes, you grab a bandage to start patching up the worst of the injuries before you move onto the minor cuts and bruises. “I didn’t want you to think I was freaking out, or looking at you differently,” you quote his own words to him with a pointed look, making him smile again. “I don’t, you know. Think of you any differently, I mean.”
His expression is unreadable as he just looks at you and you just look at him, bandage hovering over his chest before his fingers come up to brush the back of your hand. He lightly holds your hand, softly running his thumb over your knuckle as his voice drops to a whisper again. “Thank you.”
You offer him a gentle smile, holding his gaze for a second longer before focusing on bandaging him up again. His hand drops to the side and you oddly find yourself missing his warmth. The large bandage adheres to his skin and you run your fingers along the sides to stick them down, feeling him shudder under your touch.
You quickly busy yourself with looking for more supplies in the kit to hide the way your own breathing has increased slightly. “Hey, anyway, I almost walloped Snape right in the eye for you. If that wasn’t any indication of my standing on werewolves, I don’t know what is.”
“Ah, my knight in shining armour,” Remus chuckles before breaking into a wheeze as the muscles of his injured abdomen contract. “Fuck, don’t make me laugh.”
“Don’t laugh at me then!”
5. when you’re definitely not jealous… you’re not!
Three cups of coffee. You’re on three cups of coffee. It’s also the same number of hours you’ve slept and by Godric can you feel it in every inch of your body as the muted chatter of the Great Hall buzzes around you. Your head is in your hands as you contemplate stealing some Polyjuice potion and bribing a first-year to take a dose with your hair in it so you can go to bed and they can pretend to watch the Quidditch match.
You knock back the last sip of coffee when you sense a presence sliding onto the bench in front of you. Groggily setting the cup down, you see that its Remus. It takes a second to remember why this is concerning.
“Morning, h- Wait, what the hell are you doing out of bed?” you hiss, leaning forward to avoid anyone listening in. You scan your eyes over his chest, two seconds away from ripping his shirt off to check his bandages. “How are you even standing?”
“Relax, Florence Nightingale,” Remus says, rolling his eyes at your dramatics. He does his own quick sweep of the table and sees that most people are out in the Quidditch stands already, so he proceeds to pull the neckline of his shirt down slightly to reveal an already fading scar. No bleeding in sight. “I went to Madame Pomfrey with the boys this morning and she hurried up the process like she usually does. I feel achier than a 90-year-old woman with a metal hip, but the brunt of it is gone and Pads and Prongs are good as new.”
“Okay,” you say slowly, narrowing your eyes slightly. “If you’re sure you can sit out in the stands…”
“I can once I’ve consumed every cup of tea on the premises,” he says, reaching for the teapot. An annoyingly smug smirk starts to appear on his face while he pours. “What, are you worried about me, trouble?”
You scowl instantly. “No, I just don’t want you collapsing on me in the Quidditch stands while I’m cheering the boys on.”
“Right.” He hides his grin behind his cup of tea.
“Hey,” you mumble, nodding to Patricia Holloway who looks like she’s making a beeline to your table. More specifically, towards Remus. “Bright and cheery Hufflepuff incoming.”
“Merlin, it’s too early for this,” Remus whispers, taking another sip of tea before his face breaks out into a charming smile directed at the girl who slides into the empty seat next to him. “Morning, Patricia.”
“You look good today, Remus,” Patricia rests her elbow on the table and tilts her head to look at him with simpering eyes. It’s no secret Remus is good-looking and you’ve heard a million girls talk about him before. You’ve never seen any of them approach him yourself, though. You can’t say you enjoy it. “Are you… okay, Y/N?”
You didn’t realise you were scowling until she addresses you and you rapidly smooth out your expression, clearing your throat. Remus looks amused, which makes it harder to keep the scowl off your face. “Fine! I’m fine, just a bit confused since Remus looks half asleep,” you attempt a laugh through gritted teeth and are spurred on when Remus is actively trying to fight a grin. “And his hair currently makes him look like he’s been dragged through the Forbidden Forest.”
He can’t stop himself snorting at that, but Patricia just looks confused as though unsure how to react. She settles on a nervous little laugh, turning back to him. “I can fix that for you, here,” she says, scooting closer and starts to run her hands through Remus’ hair. You poke your cheek with your tongue, marvelling at how bold she’s being and how Remus is just sat there, still looking amused as ever. “There, what do you think?”
“A hairbrush couldn’t have done a better job,” you deadpan, softening your expression slightly when Patricia begins to look a little disconcerted. “You keep doing that, I’m going to head off to the Quidditch field.”
You all but storm out of the Great Hall, exhaustion having left you completely. It’s replaced by a newfound whirl of irritation that pools in your stomach and creeps up your throat, making you feel a little sick. It must be the coffee, you think, and you’re trying to remember if the beverage has ever made you experience this when all of a sudden there’s a hand circling your wrist.
“Stop, Y/N,” Remus says, a little breathless. You didn’t realise he’d run out after you and you feel bad about his injuries before your gaze snags on his newly tousled hair. “Godric, you walk fast.”
“I didn’t ask you to catch up to me,” you snap, purposely scowling this time. The cheeky bastard still looks amused and your irritation is growing faster than ever. “Besides, the match doesn’t start for another fifteen minutes. Plenty of time for Patricia to give you a whole new hairdo. Maybe she can give you plaits or– Why are you laughing.”
“You’re jealous,” he exhales with a smile, sounding positively delighted. Any feelings of concern have disappeared and are being rapidly replaced with wanting to thwack him upside the head. “Oh my God, you really are jealous.”
“Jealous, my arse,” you scoff, turning your back to him with every intention of speed walking out of the castle. His long legs keep up with you easily and he rushes in front of you to stop you going anywhere. You glare at him. “Leave me alone, Lupin.”
“Not until you admit that you’re jealous.” Remus is positively giddy with glee and you feel a flush of heat crawling up your neck. You set your jaw stubbornly and he’s incredulous as he shakes his head. “Merlin, you really have to argue with me on everything don’t you? I don’t care about Patricia Holloway and I’m glad you’re jealous. Means you’re less likely to break my nose when I kiss you.”
You barely get the chance to make an incoherent noise when Remus grabs you by the waist and presses his lips against yours, kissing you like he isn’t prepared to let you go anytime soon. His mouth slides hot and wet against your own and you gasp into the kiss when he nips lightly at your lip, your hands coming up to slide into his hair, making it unruly all over again.
Remus is the first to break apart, too soon, and you physically restrain yourself from chasing after his lips. He pulls back slightly, breathing fast to look into your eyes, searching for the answer you’re unable to speak yet.
“You… uh, I-I’m…” you trail off, dazed and breathless and head swirling with every emotion under the sun.
Remus laughs, pulling you impossibly close and leaving a soft kiss on your jaw, which doesn’t help your current speech issues. “If I knew that was all it took to shut you up, I’d have kissed you years ago.”
“Wha-!” You slap his arm, snapping out of the haze. You hide your current uncertainty behind a glare. It hit you like a ton of bricks, but you realised about five seconds into the kiss that you wanted Remus Lupin in every way, shape and form. You’re more than a little terrified, so what better defence mechanism than anger? “Why did you actually kiss me, you prick?”
“You are the densest, most clueless,” Remus begins, pausing to kiss you lightly a couple times when you start to scowl. “Most stubborn and most beautiful little witch I’ve ever known. And if you haven’t figured out after almost seven years that I love you, then I’m afraid we might have to admit you to St Mungo’s, because really-”
“Stop,” you whisper, lifting a finger to press against his lips, effectively silencing him. “You love me? You actually, seriously love me?”
He rolls his eyes and nods, like it’s obvious or something. You huff. “Then why have you been such an annoying pain in my bloody arse, Remus Lupin?!”
“Because,” he says, the word coming out muffled and you hastily remove your finger. “It was a good way to keep your attention. Plus, I like when you’re angry. It’s cute.”
You scowl without thinking and his smile impossibly widens.
“See?”
“Shut up and kiss me again,” you say dryly, pulling him in by the collar to give him a short, searing kiss. “Oh, and I guess I love you too.”
“So, no broken noses in my future?” Remus asks hopefully, softly sliding his nose against yours.
“No promises.”
© angelfic 2023.
Play me a memory (Billy Russo x Reader)- Chapter 9
Summary: When you first met Billy Russo, you fell for him hard and fast. Being with him was like a dream, You were perfect for each other, or so you thought. You return home one night to find all traces of him gone. You’re left heartbroken… and with a life changing surprise. Years later, you find yourself in a predicament when you unexpectedly find your way back into each other’s lives.
A/N: So sorry for the long wait, but I hope you guys enjoy! Thanks for the likes, comments, and reblogs, they are all greatly appreciated!
Warnings: Swearing, Blood, brief mentions of sex
Series Masterlist
…
Well, this was highly unexpected.
You stood at your door, staring with a dazed look on your face, as you wracked your brain, thinking of all the possibilities and reasons why what was happening, was happening.
Why was Billy at your door this time of night?
You nor Jaz had opened the door, and you thought it was funny that if it were a few years ago, you would have opened that door for Billy, without a second thought, but now, the thought had not even crossed your mind.
Jaz hadn’t let go of the baseball bat she had carried with her to the door, still holding it up as if there was an ongoing threat on the other side. You didn’t say much for a while, just thinking, when Jaz broke the silence.
“What’s he doing here?” Jaz asked, in a yelled whisper.
“I-I don’t know?” you slightly yelled back, “your guess is as good as mine!“
Your daughter, thankfully, wanted to stay over at your aunt’s this weekend, so she wasn’t home, but for whatever reason Billy was here, you didn’t want to let him in. Ava may not have been home, but as imagined, her stuff was all over the apartment, so it wasn’t an option.
You soon realized that you had spent the whole time not saying anything to Billy, too busy trying to find your own explanation, when the loud sounds of hissing and grunting made you snap your head back in the direction of the door, finally inquiring on Billy’s visit.
“Billy, what are you doing here?”
You could tell that he was leaning on your doorframe, and you guessed that someone who stood at the door would sound a bit further away, but his voice sounded closer, as if he were right by the door. You could hear him trying to speak, but his strained breathing stopped him from doing so, and you spoke.
“Billy, you can’t just show up here like this. Especially at this time-“
“No, I know it’s late, and I’m sorry if I woke you,” he spoke, his voice strained, “but I…I kinda need a ride home...”
His response made you stand upright, and you frowned. You were puzzled as to why he would show up at this time, of all times, for something as simple as…a ride home. You shot a glance at Jaz, who had the same expression written on her face, and you spoke for the both of you when you voiced it.
”You came all the way here…to ask for a ride home?”
You heard him chuckle before he answered, his voice still strained.
“Yeah, I know it’s out of the blue but, I was around the neighborhood, and I had a ride but he…well, he kinda ditched me. And I can’t really drive right now so…”
What he was saying didn’t make any sense, at all. Billy had a car. So why would he turn up late at night, asking you, of all things, for a ride?
“You’re not making any sense, right now, what do you mean you’re ride ditched you?”
He didn’t respond with any words, instead with another grunt and a hiss, a now clear sign that he might have been in pain. The noises were repeated and ongoing, and it started to worry you, which you couldn’t hide in your voice.
“Why do you sound like that?”
Billy didn’t answer you again, his heavy breathing his only response, so you pondered again.
“…Are you hurt?”
After a few seconds of heavy breathing and the persistent sounds of discomfort, another grunt took over what you were sure was meant to be words, and he spoke.
“Yeah,” he admitted. “I’m a little banged up.”
Knowing Billy, ‘a little banged up’ often meant quite the opposite. He would always downplay how serious his injury was whenever he was hurt in the past, so keeping that in mind, you didn’t hesitate to reach for the handle, and unlock the door. When you did though, the sight you were met with stopped you in your tracks, and a small gasp left your lips.
Your hands flew up to your mouth and your eyes widened, as you watched Billy lean on your doorframe, in attempt to hold himself upright.
“Oh my God, what the hell happened to you?!”
You reached for him, but quickly pulled your hands away when he swore, in pain. You profusely apologized, leaving him to lean on the doorframe again.
You then felt Jaz come up next to you, who had been standing behind the door for a minute now, and when she emerged, she didn’t exactly have the same reaction as you did.
“You’re lucky Russo, I almost rearranged your face with this thing-Woah...” Jaz paused in her words, finally lowering the bat she had in her hand. “You look like shit.”
Billy chuckled at her comment, followed by a wince and a deep inhale.
“Nice to see you again too, Jaz.”
He wore dark clothing, but it took a matter of a second to guess that it was blood that drenched his clothes, the tint too dark to be anything else. His hands were painted in it too, fresh bruises forming over his knuckles, one of them grasping his other arm, as he winced in pain.
He looked like he had gotten into some kind of fight or altercation, but whatever it was, it wasn’t good.
There were spots of blood trailing your apartment door, some of it dripping through his fingers and onto the floor.
You were taken aback, standing there and watching, as you took in the sight before you. You could feel your facial expressions change in a matter of seconds from shock, to worrisome, which Billy noticed, and he shook his head, trying to console you.
“…it’s not that bad.”
Your eyes shot up to his, and you looked at him as if he had grown two heads.
He had to be insane. Not that bad was a paper cut, or knee scrape. Not blood dripping through your hands and barely being able to stand on your own.
“Not that bad?” You yelled, narrowing your eyes at him, “You’re leaving trails of blood all over the floor, and you can barely even stand!-This is a little banged up?!”
Billy ran his tongue over his lips, and sighed.
“Really, I'm fine,” he reassured, “it looks worse than it actually is.”
None this made any sense to you. Why would Billy stop by at your apartment, for a ride of all things, when he could barely stand at that, and not go straight to the hospital, where they’d aid him? You didn’t know what to do, so you did the only thing that made sense in that moment.
“Wait here, lemme me grab my coat, and I’m gonna drive you to the hospital-“
“No,” he blurted, “no hospital. I just need a ride back to my place. So I can patch myself up.”
He remained grasping his upper arm, and had a stern look on his face when he spoke to you, which you thought was crazy.
“...Are you insane? You don’t have to patch yourself up, that’s what hospitals are for, I’m taking you, you’re hurt and-!”
“Y/n,” he sighed, prompting you to stop and look at him, “I can’t go to the hospital. They’ll ask too many questions that I…that I can’t answer…”
He swallowed and look away at his last words, down at the ground. It was then that you come to the conclusion that whatever left him in this state wasn’t the result of anything good, no injuries ever were, but showing up at this hour, injured, and to refusing to go to the hospital, in fear of them asking questions…was a dead giveaway.
It also didn’t help that he chose to ignore your first question of where he’s been, instead of answering them.
“…You mean the question you’ve failed to answer since you got here, like where you’ve been? Or why you’re bleeding all over the place? Those questions?”
He looked at you then, and it was as if his eyes were pleading with you, not to ask any further about the situation.
How could he just show up in the state he was in, and not want you to ask questions? Who would even agree to that?
But, that wasn’t important right now.
What was important was that he was hurt. And any questions, or I’ll feelings about the situation and the past would have to wait, because you had to make sure he was okay.
So, you finally agreed, much to your displeasure.
“Fine,” you said dryly. “Wait here.”
You grabbed your keys and your coat, prepared to head out, when Jaz sad something about wanting to tag along. It was a hassle getting downstairs, Billy insistent that he didn’t need help to, but his pained hissing saying otherwise.
…
“This is where you live?”
You looked up slightly in awe at the high rise building that stood in front of you, admiring the outside, as you stepped out of your car. The building was luxurious, the exterior even catching the eye of strangers passing by.
“Wow,” Jaz followed right behind you, impressed. “Not too shabby, Russo. Even for you.”
That earned a small laugh from Billy in return, and he helped himself out of your car, and he led you to the entrance, where a doorman awaited. Billy greeted him, and to your surprise, the doorman simply smiled, as he held open the door for the three of you, as if Billy weren’t covered in blood. Perhaps it wasn’t visible due to how dark it was outside, and you couldn’t tell if he genuinely didn’t know, or if he chose to ignore it, but you followed Billy anyway.
Upstairs, the inside of Billy’s apartment, was even more luxurious, and you would even say, breathtaking. You had a well paying job, and had one of the highest salaries in your company, but you could admit that you could never afford to live in a place like this one. You knew that Billy had grown wealthy over the years, through Anvil, but he must’ve been doing better than you had guessed to secure such a place.
As soon as you made it inside, Billy gently sat down his couch, an expensive one if you might add, shifting. You couldn’t help but scan your eyes over his large apartment, the large windows having a gorgeous view of the city. Surprisingly, the place mostly empty except for a the couches and few chairs. To the side, there were different varieties of bottles of alcohol displayed behind a shelf of glass.
You thought it looked an expensive suite you would only dream of staying in. But regardless of the expensive displays, and furniture, there was nothing about Billy’s apartment that…made it a home. Under all the luxury, If you were honest, it looked rather sad. There were no pictures, or anything, that said anything about him or his life. You were curious as to why that was, but you were pulled out of your thought when you heard Billy’s voice.
“Fuck,” Billy swore, now grabbing at his torso, as he shifted on the couch, drawing your attention back to him.
“Where’s your first aid kit?” You asked, remembering the task at hand.
“You don’t have to,” he shook his head. “I can patch myself up, I just need a minute.”
You looked away for a moment, annoyed at his constant refusal of aid from you.
“Billy,” you closed your eyes, and heaved an exasperated sigh. “You wouldn’t let me take you to the hospital, and you’ve probably lost a good amount of blood by now, so I’m not arguing with you about this. Where’s the fucking kit?”
He put his hands up in defense, giving up without another word, and threw his head in the direction of one of the rooms.
“The bathroom.”
“I’ll get it,” Jaz offered, as she poked her head out of Billy’s kitchen.
You had wondered where she disappeared to, the room she choose to explore making sense in her case. As she went grab the kit, you pulled a chair in front of Billy.
You fixed your mouth to speak your next words, opening and closing your lips as they failed to come out, and Billy furrowed his eyebrows, puzzled, as he started back at you struggling to speak. You knew what you wanted to say next, it was necessary, but you couldn’t help but feel the heat rising to your face.
Maybe you hadn’t thought this all the way through.
“Okay,” you sighed. “You have to…you have to take your shirt off.”
You voice came out in low mutter, but it was obvious that Billy heard you.
Within a second, Billy’s face went from confused, to amused, and he couldn’t hold in the smirk that took over his face, as he reached over, and began to peel his shirt off.
“You know, you should’ve led with that,” he remarked, “would’ve saved a hell of a lot of time.”
You sighed, amazed at how he could still manage to flirt even when he was hurt, and it made you wonder if he was truly confused previously, or if he actually did know what you were struggling to say.
He was having a hard time removing his shirt, his hissing and swearing the indication, and you couldn’t stand to watch him in pain any longer, so you stepped in.
“Here…”
You stood up and helped him pull his shirt over his head, a difficult task, and his hair was left a bit messy from his shirt brushing over it. You could finally see the wound that he had been holding onto in pain all night, the blood having stopped. You slightly grimaced at the sight, eyeing it.
It wasn’t a deep one, so it didn’t look like it needed stitches, but deep enough that the amount of bleeding made sense. When you took a good look at it, and didn’t take you very long to guess what caused it, it’s shape similar to one you’ve seen on Billy’s body before.
You dreaded to even think it, but the wound was similar to that of a bullet graze. It had to be, because there was nothing else you’d ever seen that made a wound like that.
Where the fuck did he get a bullet graze from?
As you stared at his arm, your mouth slightly agape, Billy noticed, and as if trying to shift your attention, he moved to peel off what he had left on, a white tank top. It was apparent that he had fresh wounds underneath, the bright red patches seeping through the undershirt. When he removed that next, you were left stunned for the second time that night.
All your nervous emotions seemed to go out the window, with what you did next.
Lifting your hand, you placed you fingers on his bare chest, trailing down his body where the scars were plastered, and your eyes followed suit, darting back and forth where your hands led, and you could feel Billy’s gaze on you.
“Like what you see?” Billy commented, with a smirk.
You were too baffled with what you were looking at go respond to his words.
Besides the fresh wounds, there were scars that you didn’t recognize. Most were healed, the light pink shade of them indicating that they were older, and there were some that were fresher, but not from tonight. They were much too healed to be from tonight. He obviously had some, from when he served, and you knew them like the back of your hand, so you were certain.
Those scars were definitely not there before.
You had no idea what he had been doing to acquire wounds and scars like these, and there could have been a long list of possibilities.
But you knew none of them were good. They couldn’t be.
What you also couldn’t understand, was the why. Why would Billy be involved in these things?
It couldn’t have been for money. He had his own company, and you guessed must’ve had many, many high end clients. He was filthy rich, hence the place you were sitting in now.
It could’ve been anything, because you didn’t know what he had gotten into these last few years. Mostly because he wouldn’t tell you.
You hadn’t even noticed that you said nothing all this time, and your hand made it all the way down to the middle of his body, just a few spaces from his middle. So you realized how it might’ve looked from Billy’s perspective, you were just…touching and staring.
And he didn’t miss the opportunity to voice his thoughts.
“…I really, really, like where this is going,” he said, amused. “Wherever it’s going.”
You ignored his remark, skipping to the question you had in mind.
“Where did you get these?” You asked, in a whisper, as you were still entranced with the scars that covered his body.
Within the second, Billy’s smirk quickly diffused, and he ran his tongue over his lips, shifting in his seat. He let out a sigh, and the words left his lips in a rush.
“Training,” he said in an obvious tone. “At Anvil. Sometimes, it’s hands on.”
At his words, you just, looked at him. And that look, quickly turned into a glowering one, and you pressed your lips together.
Did he think you were stupid?
You opened your mouth to give him a piece of your mind, when Jaz’s voice shifted your attention.
“Found it! And I-Woah…”
Jaz paused in her words, narrowing her eyes at you and Billy, the first aid kit in her hand, and she waited a moment, before she continued.
…Am I…interrupting something or…”
You could see her eyes where your hands were, on Billy’s chest, which you forgot was there, and you scrambled to remove your hands and answer her, and so did Billy, your voices reaching Jaz’s at the same time.
“-no,-”
“-Yes.”
Letting out an exasperated sigh, and rolled your eyes, signaling for Jaz to hand you the kit she found and she did, disappearing into one of the rooms.
You grabbed a bottle of the least expensive alcohol he had, which wasn’t very many, and took to cleaning Billy’s scars, each one causing him to grit his teeth and swear. After you patched him up, Billy insisted on staying on the couch.
“Are you sure you’re okay here on the couch? I could help you get to the bedroom,” you offered.
“Nah, I’m good,” he ran his hand over his face. “I just need to sleep it off.”
You didn’t know how he intended to ‘sleep it off’ but you accepted anyway.
“Okay well, let me get you a blanket, or something,” you got up and headed to his bedroom, before he could protest.
It took you a minute to actually find his bedroom, as the apartment was a large one. You noticed that what you saw outside of the bedroom, was exactly the same in the bedroom. There were no pictures, or anything lively about the room.
You walked in, finding Jaz rummaging through his drawers.
“Jaz, what you doing?”
She wasn’t startled, continuing her action.
“Nothing. I was exploring, and my hands just happened to find themselves here,” she said, and she muttered the last of her words under her breath. “Just like your’s found themselves on Billy’s-“
“Okay,” you stopped her, walking towards the drawer in the room. “One, that was nothing, and two, were not going through his stuff. I’m just gonna hand him a blanket and we’ll get out of here.”
She sighed at your answer, and frowned.
“Fine,” she dragged out, and walked up to another drawer on the other side of the room. “You know, you don’t make revenge easy.”
You continued looking for a blanket, which wasn’t easy to find, and it was like he didn’t have any. His drawers were mostly empty and bare, and your mind was pulled elsewhere, when you heard Jaz hum.
“Hm…”
“What is it?” You asked, with your back turned to her.
“There’s…a number here. A ‘Trish Walker’.”
You stopped in search at Jaz’s words, and turned to face her, as she looked down a small piece of paper, that looked like it was ripped from somewhere.
When you came closer, you could see the number written in pen, Billy’s handwriting, and underneath the number, ‘Trish Walker’ was scribbled.
“Where do I know that name?” Jaz inquired, as she put her finger on her chin, in thought.
You didn’t have to ask yourself. You knew the name. And the face, of the Tv star, having seen her at Anvil a few weeks ago.
You felt your heart sink a bit, a disheartening feeling coming over you, and you shifted on your feet.
“She’s-from that tv show from few years ago. You know, the one with the song,” you answered, as you walked back to where you were standing, continuing your search.
“Oh, yeah!,” Jaz snapped her fingers as the memory came back to her, and sang the highly recognized song from the show. You heard Jaz hum again, and she voiced her thought.
“Why’s he have her number though?”
You tried to hide the disappointment on your face, when you answered her.
“Beats me,” you shrugged.
You went back to searching for the blanket again, and after a about minute you finally found one, and you were about to head out of the room when Jaz’s words stopped you. She sounded entranced by something in her hand, when you approached her.
“Wow…”
“Are going through his stuff again?”
She quickly waved you off, denying it.
“No-I was, closing the bottom drawer and I found…a ring. An expensive one, too. It’s has to worth like, thousands.”
“A ring?”
When you came up next to her, your eye caught glance of the shiny diamond ring, the light that was reflecting of it, made the ring shine brighter. When Jaz handed it to you, you were actually certain that the ring was brighter than the light inside the room. It was in a tiny velvet box, which seemed to have collected dust.
The ring was really pretty, and it looked expensive. Very expensive. And as you stared at it, you thought about how it was just your style, something about it that you’d be drawn to. Clearing your throat, you quickly snapped out of the trance you were in, urging Jaz to return the ring where she found it, and walked out of the room.
Handing him the blanket, you retook your seat in front of him, a determination on your mind.
You couldn’t leave without some answers, and if he thought you were going to, he was very wrong.
“…we need to talk…”
“That’s never the start of a good conversation,” he sighed.
Shifting in your seat, you let out a breath, before speaking.
“Okay, first, I’m not stupid. I know you didn’t get those scars from any ‘training’, and two, how many nights have you shown up like this? You’re too calm about it, so I know it’s happened before, so don’t try to deny it.”
He turned his head towards the window, away from you, as he let you speak.
“And whatever happened tonight, I know, it’s nothing good.”
You heard him heave a sigh, and you continued.
“…Do you remember that night, when you asked me if I would ever run away with you? We were…laying in bed. After we…you know…-“
“Do you mean after we had that mind blowing sex? You’ll have to be more specific, cause there were a lot of those,” he commented, a smile curved into a smile.
“You know what I mean,” you said, rolling your eyes. “I thought you were joking, but now…I’m not so sure. So help me out.”
He sighed again.
“Y/N-,”
“Were you serious? About running away? Or Does wherever you came from tonight, have something to do with that? Or what you didn’t want to tell me the other day?”
You stared at him with wide eyes, waiting for an answer, any answer from him.
He sighed once again, and said nothing.
“Look if you…if you’re involved in something you’re not supposed be-or with someone…dangerous, maybe I can help you get out of it, or maybe work something out-
“Y/N,” he started, turning towards you, with a deadpan expression. “I am sorry that I got you involved in my shit tonight, I had no other choice and that’s bad enough, but I’m asking you…to let it go.”
Wow.
You eyes drifted away from Billy’s, down to the ground. You could feel the pain creeping up on you, and your heart hurt, at the sound of his words. You looked back up at him, your eyes glossy.
“Come on, don’t look at me like that-,”
“Did you really just ask me that?,” you asked, your voice low. “To let it go? I want answers, to why you were gone for so long, and you’re telling me to let it go-?”
“Y/N, that’s not what I meant-“
“And you had no other choice but to come to me? So I…I was your last choice to come to for help? When you were hurt, and-“
“No, that’s not what I’m saying,-“
“So I’m guessing you usually go to Frank or Curtis, for these things? What, are they on fucking vacation today, or something?”
“Y/N…,I can’t answer the questions your asking me, alright?” he shook his head, a grave expression painted his face. “I can’t.”
You looked at him, scoffing.
“…you can. You just won’t,” you spat.
You picked up your coat to leave, and you could hear Billy faintly calling your name, which you chose to ignore. You called to Jaz, and she followed you out the door.
…
“Y/N. Y/N!”
Billy called after you, and you sped up as you approached your office door, attempting to slam it behind you, when he caught it at the last second.
It had been a few days after Billy had shown up at your apartment, and you’d been ignoring him ever since. You really had no desire to speak to him since then. You found that, since he refused to answer your questions, you didn’t think there was any reason too.
You didn’t like the constant fighting that you had going on with Billy. You hated it. It made you sad to think that was all of what you did since he’d been back, compared to what the two of you used to be before.
In the past, the two of you hated whenever you would fight. Your fights would never last more than a few days, and even then, you were pushing it. After the two of you would have a couple hours to yourselves, you both would be scrambling to apologize to the other.
And you wished you were in the same situation as back then. When things were easier.
“I have nothing to say to you.”
You sat behind your desk, going through some papers, as Billy stood ahead of you, his hands by his sides.
“Can you please, hear me out?”
You sighed, and lifted your head from your papers, looking up at him, expressionless.
“Are you going to tell me the reason you showed up at my apartment, bleeding all over the floor?”
“I told you, that I cant-“
“Are you going to answer any of my questions?”
“Y/N-“
“Then no.”
He opened his mouth to say something, when a knock on the door made him pause, and you both looked towards it, and it opened shortly after.
Nick poked his head in, a smile on his face.
“Hey, Y/n. You ready for lunch?”
As you looked back at him, Billy’s head shot back in your direction, and his eyes narrowed.
“Yeah,” you replied, with a smile. “Just a minute.”
Nick replied with a smile and a nod, and he backed up and closed the door.
You got up from your seat and began to gather your stuff, as Billy stood in the middle of the room, frozen.
“You’re not serious,” he said, as he searched your face for any hint that told him you were joking.
Your only reply, was a sigh.
“You’re punishing me, that’s-that’s what you’re doing.”
“Billy,” you sighed. “What are you talking about?”
“You’re punishing me, by going out on a date, with him.”
“Not everything is about you, okay? I’m not going on a date with anybody. I’m going to lunch, with my friend.”
You moved and made your way around the desk, making it to the door, and attempted to reach for the handle, when Billy stood in front of you blocking you from doing so.
“That guy doesn’t want to be just friends, Y/n. I-I see the way that he looks at you-“
“The way he looks at me? What are you-?”
“Yes, Y/N! The way he looks at you, like he’s planning an entire fucking future with you in his head!”
You watched Billy as his nostrils flared, and he stared back at you, his mouth set in a harsh line.
“I’m leaving,” you moved to go around him, and he stood in front of you again.
“Wait,-just wait,” he started, and you stopped, annoyed.
He sighed, his eyes darting between yours, and he spoke, in a whisper.
“Look I, looked into this Nick guy, and I couldn’t find anything on him. Nothing about his life. Where he’s from, or-“
“Oh my god, you looked into him?!” You exclaimed.
“Yeah I did, and did you hear what I said? I couldn’t find a damn thing about him-“
“Maybe because he’s a private fucking person, Billy!”
“I’m just saying that I think that’s really fucking weird. Only someone with something to hide is that ‘private’,” he spat.
“Of course, you would know all about that, wouldn’t you?”
He sighed a deep sigh, and threw his head back at your response. He looked to the side and ran his tongue over his bottom lip, before looking back at you.
"Those answers you're looking for they're not...they're just going to make things worse," he breathed,
his eyes pleading with vou.
You looked up at him, your eyes pleading as well.
"Let me decide that for myself," you moved closer to him, hopeful, as your eyes darted back and forth between his, waiting for an answer.
Billy looked down at you with soft eves, and he ran them over your face, almost as if he was thinking. His gaze made it’s way to back up to your eves, and you didn’t see his face change, at all, when he made the decision he made next. His face stayed expressionless, and he slowly moved away from the door and out of your way, shaking his head, as he shrugged.
“I can’t.”
You didn’t move, just looking at him, disappointed. But he wouldn’t look at you, his gaze finding the ground. You scoffed, and breezed past him, as you left the room.
…
Nick was a good guy. A great guy. So you didn’t hesitate to accept his offer to lunch when he texted you this morning. And as you sat across from him at a table as he ate his lunch, you couldn’t help but steal a few glance at the man.
Great. Billy had put the thought in your head, and now you couldn’t stop thinking about it.
He also brought to your attention, that you didn’t know much about the man, and it was true. Yes, you went on two whole dates with the him, but knew nothing about him. Now that you thought about it, he had let you talk for most of those dates, and you barely picked up anything about him. You realized now, that it was bad manners on your part.
Nick had arrived at the company over nine months ago, and was one of the newest additions. What you did know about him, were the little scraps he gave up about himself, or what people at the office would talk about.
It was the only thing on your mind, and it was bothering you, so you let your curiosity get the best of you.
“…Hey, Nick?”
“Hm?” Nick looked up behind his glasses, his blue eyes appearing bigger behind them.
“Where are you…from? Or do you have any family? You just-you never told me when we went out, and you let me talk for most it,” you laughed. “I guess that’s kinda snobby of me…”
He furrowed his eyebrows, and a soft expression took over his face.
“No! That’s really on me,” he started, shifting in his seat. “Uh...I’m from, Chicago, I moved here a couple of years ago, and as for family…it’s not something that I talk about-much.”
“Oh…” you said softly, your face softening, and you suddenly felt bad, for trying to dig into his life, demanding answers.
You knew what it was like to have family be a soft subject.
“You know, forget it,” you laughed nervously, “you don’t have to explain anything to me, it’s none of my business, I’m sorry for-,”
“No, don’t apologize, it’s fine,” Nick waved you off. “I want to tell you.”
When he said that, his eyes gleamed, and you gave him a tight knit smile.
“…I have…a sister, but we had a falling out, and it didn’t end well.”
You watched him as he spoke, and he continued.
“And as for parents…uh-,” he cleared his throat, “they both…”
Catching his drift, your eyes softened, and your heart sunk, as a result of hearing his story.
You felt like an asshole. He really was just a private person, and here you were making him share something about himself that you barely shared, with anyone. Billy had put his paranoid thoughts in your head, and they got the best of you.
“I’m sorry. About your parents and your sister. For even asking-“
“Y/N, really, it’s fine. You’re good, really.”
You accepted his answer, and shortly after, Nick drifted the conversation.
“So…, I don’t want to overstep, but I was just curious,” he started, and you shifted your attention to him. “Is there something between you and that new guy, Russo?”
You paused, surprised by his words, and Nick noticed.
“Yeah, I kinda sensed there was something there. Is he your…boyfriend-or hopefully, ex…boyfriend?” He chuckled.
You grimaced at his words, and your face twisted.
“Was it that obvious?” You replied, grimacing.
“Well no, it’s just that, you guys are always together, always talking, and the way he looks at you…,” your eyes shot up to him, “actually now that I think it about it, it is a little obvious.”
“They way he looks at me…?”
Nick furrowed his brows.
“Well yeah, like he’s planning an entire future with you. I got the hint that he didn’t like me. Now I know why…” he joked.
You looked down at the table, biting your lip, before looking back at Nick to answer his original question.
“It’s…complicated,” you sighed, the tight smile finding itself back on your face.
“…is it complicated enough for you to…be my date to that fundraiser thing we have for the company this weekend?” Nick asked, his face hopeful.
You knew what your answer was before you said it. You were furious at Billy, but you weren’t going to be someone else’s date to something, while you were working things out with him.
“I think I’m just gonna go alone, this time,” you answered.
Nick looked disappointed, but he nodded, with a half smile on his face. A short while after, the two of you gathered your stuff to leave, and as you stood up, Nick bumped into your table, spilling a glass of water all over you.
It was so quick and sudden, and you didn’t even know how it happened, but he profusely apologized.
“I’m so, so sorry. That’s my bad, I ruined your shirt-,”
"Oh, it's fine! It's just water," you waved him off, "I'm gonna run to the restroom really quickly," you said, placing your phone that you had in your hand, on the table.
You went to the restroom and dried off as much water as you could, washing your hands before you left, and when you got back to the table, Nick was standing by it. You went to pick up your phone that you placed on the table, but you stopped at the last second, tilting your head in thought, puzzled.
That's not where it was when you left it. Right?
At least you didn't think so.
You were sure you’d out it on your right hand side of the table. but now…it was on the left side of the table.
Huh.
"Something wrong?"
Nick's voice pulled you out of your thought.
If you told him that you thought you left your phone on the other side of the table, and it wasn’t where you left it, he'd probably think you were crazy. So, you waved it off.
"Nothing," you smiled, following him out the door, as he led the way.
"Nothing at all…”
…
You pulled one of your hands from your coat pocket, and reached up to knock on the door, the loud sounds of running and laughter apparent behind the it.
You soon heard footsteps approaching, and when the door opened, you were met with a warm smile from the mother who hosted the play date Ava was so thrilled about all week, and you returned it.
“Hey! How was she?” You wondered, with a tight smile, hoping to get a good answer.
The woman smiled back you, at first, but it diffused into a worrying expression.
You spotted Ava behind her, and you smiled at her. She gave you a faded smile in return, and that quickly made your smile fade, wondering why that was.
“She was an angel, as always,” she added, reassuring you. “But um…she was a little sad, towards the end.”
“Oh…?”
As you spoke, Ava came over and stood by you, in front of the door, but now with a slight frown on her face, that didn’t go unnoticed by you.
“I tried to get her to tell me what was wrong but…she just wouldn’t tell me,” the woman shared, with a soft expression.
You looked down at your daughter, her expression having not changed, and you grew worried. It was unusual in her behavior to act this way. She was always so joyful, all giggles and smiles. Of course she got sad and upset sometimes, which was unavoidable, but you could tell that this, was different.
You thanked the mother, and waved her goodbye. On your short walk to your car, you stopped and got down to Ava’s level, trying to figure the cause of her sadness.
“Sweetheart, what’s wrong? You were so excited about going to Amy’s house all week, it was all you could talk about,” you added softly, your eyes set on her.
When she spoke back to you, her voice was nothing but a mumble.
“Nothing…I’m tired. Can we go home now?”
It was obvious that something was bothering her, her long face didn’t budge, but you took a deep breath and sighed, accepting her request.
“Of course we can,” you answered, holding open the car door, as she stepped inside.
You didn’t want to push her, but you didn’t stop trying to cheer her up.
The car ride was quiet, and you barely got a peep from Ava. You tried to make her laugh, making funny faces at her, and putting on her favorite song that the two of you loved to sing together. It didn’t do much, but you got a small giggle from her, which was a step up from nothing.
You even made her favorite dinner when you got home, which she mostly picked at. Even Jaz tried to help, but when nothing seemed to work, you couldn’t stand to see her like that anymore, so you were determined to find out what was on her mind.
“Okay,” you started, as you and Ava walked into her room. You moved to sit on her bed, as she stood in front of you playing with her hands.
“I made your favorite dinner, and I even hid the meatballs under the spaghetti how you like, so it’ll be like a surprise when you find them. And I offered you cookies, that you didn’t eat so I know, this is serious…”
You looked at her, and patted the space next you, which she understood and took a seat next to you. Ava sighed, looking down at her hands in her lap.
“…It’s just, today…everyone’s Mom and Dad came to pick them up today, like they always do. And…whenever you come to get me…it’s only you.”
With those simple words your daughter muttered, you understood what was bothering her, the reason why she was so down.
And your heart sank.
You knew this moment would come again, eventually. It was bound to happen again.
“What’s taking Dad so long?…Does he…not want to see me?”
Her voice was low, and you could hear the sadness in it, when she spoke. It broke you that she even thought that, even for a second.
“Ava, no,” you shook your head, getting down to her level, and kneeled on the ground in front of her.
“That’s not true. That’s not it, at all.”
Your words didn’t seem to have much effect, so looked at her, your eyes soft, and you said what you could at the time.
“…I know…that I haven’t told you much, but I can tell you about him? If you like?”
Ava tilted her head, thinking about it, before she nodded with a small smile.
You nodded as well, you sat back on her bed with her, as you prepared to tell her about Billy for the first time. She really didn’t know much about him, you barely told her anything, because you didn’t want her to get her hopes up, just for it to come crashing down on her.
But, right now, it hurt you, to see her hurt. And if easing her pain meant that you had to talk to her about Billy, it was a pill that you were going to have to swallow.
So that’s what you did.
“…Your Dad…is the best. He’s funny, and silly…. And he always, gave the best surprises.”
Her eyes lit up at your words, a giant smile on her face.
“Really?!”
“Yeah!” You answered. “And, it was always so, so hard for me to surprise him. He just always knew what was coming.”
She giggled, and you continued.
“And…he loves that pie that you like to eat, from the diner we go to? Maybe…even more than you do…?”
“That’s silly!” She exclaimed. “I love that pie!”
“I know, it’s crazy, but I think it’s true!”
You laughed and giggled along with her, and this went on for the next hour. Ava was so entranced, as she listened to you talk about Billy. She watched you, and her eyes lit up, just as they would when you would read her fairytale stories at bedtime, or when she was watching a movie she was interested in.
And as your conversation came to an end, you stepped out for a minute, and headed to your bedroom. Inside, you took out the shoebox that was underneath your bed, pulling out a picture of you and Billy.
It was different from the one Ava had seen before, and it was one of your favorites. Closing the shoebox, you went back to Ava’s room, where she waited, and you handed her the picture.
She studied the picture, for a few minutes. You surmised that she didn’t remember his face from the first picture she found a couple months ago, and your thoughts were correct.
“…I can get you a frame for it tomorrow, and you can keep it right here,” you gestured to her nightstand, and she couldn’t hide the smile that painted her face.
You watched as joy took over her face as she held the picture.
You knew that you needed to tell Billy about her. You didn’t know how, but you needed to. And soon.
“…you’re going to see your Dad…very, very soon.”
“Really?”
You looked at her, as she watched you with hopeful eyes.
“Yeah…,” you said, smiling. “I promise...”
…
Taglist:
@celestialams
@snowkestrel
@promnightbinbaby
@intothesoul
@weallhaveadestiny
@ramadiiiisme
@patniera
@wolfmoonmusic
@polireader
@mysweetlittledesire
@rainbowgoblinfan
@justyoursimpleflower
@naxxsstuff
@simp4panos
@nosebeers
@sumsytee
I really want Billy and Ava to meet now 😭
Play me a memory (Billy Russo x Reader)- Chapter 8
Summary: When you first met Billy Russo, you fell for him hard and fast. Being with him was like a dream, You were perfect for each other, or so you thought. You return home one night to find all traces of him gone. You’re left heartbroken… and with a life changing surprise. Years later, you find yourself in a predicament when you unexpectedly find your way back into each other’s lives.
Series Masterlist
A/N: Hope you guys enjoy! Thanks for all the likes, reblogs, and comments, they are all so appreciated!
Warnings: Swearing
…
You were conflicted.
After that much needed day you took with Billy, it was the center of your thoughts for the next few days. You had had a really great time, which wasn’t something that you found to be unexpected after all, due to all the time that you and Billy were in a relationship together. So It wasn’t a surprise at all that he knew how to make you have a good time. But that wasn’t the problem at hand.
The way the sound of your heartbeat was the only thing you heard in your ears when you stood next to him, and if you were honest, was becoming too much of a frequent occurrence, or how you wanted to call him, and not to talk about anything important, but to just hear the sound of his voice, or the way you would find yourself thinking about him the days after.
That was the problem.
It reminded you of how it used to be between the two of you. Those special moments filled with bliss and and nervous excitement. Those moments that you loved, and never would’ve run away from before. But being with him reminded you of how much you missed him. How much you missed having moments like that with him. Even though you didn’t want to.
But you had to be out of your mind right? Feeling the way that you did?
You weren’t supposed to feel the way that you did. Not even a sliver. He broke your heart, with no goodbye or explanation, for seven years. He couldn’t reverse all those sleepless nights, the endless tears that were shed, or the months of worry and fear you had for him, that were his doing. And he couldn’t make up for the time that he missed…with your daughter.
So why did you feel those old feelings brewing up again?
You thought you were over him. You were sure. But you found that just because you say something over and over again, no matter how many times you repeat it, doesn’t make it true.
You had really tried to get over him, anyway, and there were countless amounts of failed relationship attempts to prove it. No matter how much you tried with previous dates, it just felt like you were itching for them to be over, or it wasn’t genuine on your end.
Maybe your aunt was right, that in all those guys you dated, you were searching for something that none of them had. Wanting them to someone that they could never be. Your feelings seemed to be artificial with them, and slowly began to deteriorate soon after the brief time spent with them.
But not with Billy.
Everything came so naturally with him forced. And you dreaded saying it, even thinking it, that no one before or after Billy compared, in the slightest. You’d never met anyone like Billy before.
There was a side of you that wished you had a button you could push, that could reverse all those years of heartbreak that Billy caused you. A button that would numb away all those I’ll feelings you had of him, so it could make things easier, then you’d have a clear answer of what to do. But even if you didn’t have that button, maybe…there was still a chance of you and Billy-?
No. No. You were thinking crazy.
But then again…
You hadn’t even given thought about repairing your relationship, because you thought it was out of the question. Why would you, after all? But for some reason, the thought was slowly creeping up on you recently, clouding your mind.
It didn’t strike you as a surprise, that the guys after Billy didn’t compare, in the slightest. No matter how much you tried with them, each one felt like you were itching for them to be over, or it wasn’t genuine on your end, and always ended with you breaking it off before they got too attached.
Why did it have to be that he was the one that could that could make you forget about your worries, when he also hurt you beyond repair?
You had had your mind set that Billy never loved you, despite all the words and moments that you shared over the years. After all, why would anyone do what he did to someone they claimed to love? You were sure that you were just one of the many women that Billy encountered, as much as the next. But his actions recently…said otherwise.
You didn’t know what to do, so you thought to seek advice from someone who you thought would be straightforward with you.
You laid down on your aunt’s couch, as she sat beside you in her own chair, focused on the knitting needles in her hands, resting your head on the arm of the comfortable furniture, and nursed a pint of melting ice cream, groaning.
“Tell me what to do, Betts.”
“I wish it were that easy Y/N,” she replied with a sigh, keeping her gaze down at her moving hands, her glasses finding their way further down her nose, “but I can’t tell you what to do. You have to decide that for yourself.”
You shove a spoonful of ice cream in your mouth, pouting at her answer.
“Betts, I don’t want one of those wise grown up answers, right now. You know, the well thought-out responsible adult ones.”
You shift your head to look at her, pleadingly. “I want a Jaz answer.”
“Hm. Where is Jazmyn, anyway?”
“She went to visit her cousin upstate yesterday. She’ll be back this weekend, but I miss her already. And you’re not helping with those responsible answers. You sound nothing like her,” you complained.
She glances at you, giving you a half smile.
“Well I’m sorry, but those are the only answers I have.”
“Then tell me I’m not crazy .”
“You’re not crazy, sweetheart.”
“But then, like, I have to be though. Right?”
Your aunt paused in her knitting, peaking up at you from her glasses, and sighs an exasperated sigh.
“Y/N, this is the ninth time we’ve gone back and forth.”
“Then I’ll just even the score. Am I crazy?”
Returning to her action, your aunt raises her eyebrows, “Sweetheart, I can’t sit here and tell you what you want to hear.”
You respond by eating another spoonful of ice cream, and huffing an exaggerated sigh, when your aunt stops in her action and speaks.
“Do you want to know what I think though?”
You turn your head to look at her again, your words sounding muffled with the ice cream in your mouth.
“Yeth pleath.”
She raises her eyebrows, eyeing you interrogation on her face. “Are you actually going to listen and allow me to speak this time, like an adult, or are you going to cover your ears again?”
“No promises, but seventh times the charm. So lay it on me.”
You sat up and closed your eyes, as if it would help delay the truth, you prepared yourself for those words that you’ve been dreading to hear, or even think about.
“I think…that you’re human. And I think…you had a life with Billy, an amazing one. But, he broke your heart, and your trust, and even after all of it…you still love him.”
You slightly grimaced at her last words, those words you’d been dreading to hear out loud, or to even think about. Finally opening your eyes, you leaned back on the couch, pulling at the strings of the couch, in effort to distract yourself. You took a few seconds to take in the truth in her words, before you spoke.
“…I don’t want to. Because I’m still-,” you sucked in a breath, “-I’m still so angry at him.”
“Honey,” your aunt shifts closer and comfortingly places her hand over yours, her voice soft,“You can be angry at someone, and still love them. We can’t help our feelings.”
You didn’t respond at that, opting to throw your head back and heave a heavy sigh, when your aunt spoke again, an inquisitive look on her face.
“Do you think that he wants fix things between the two of you?”
“I think it’s pretty obvious what he wants,” you answered, looking away, “…and even if I…did want to get back together Billy, I don’t know how to move past what he did. I just don’t want to get hurt again,” you shrugged.
The words you uttered soon took you into deep thought, and your mind thought back to those words Billy told you when you saw him again. And you, thinking out loud, voiced your concerns.
“It doesn’t make any sense,” you muttered, shaking your head, “if he wants to be together, why leave in the first place? And ruin what we had? I mean, I didn’t really hear him out then, but he said that it was complicated…”
“Well maybe,” your started, returning to her knitting, “things aren’t as simple as they appear to be.”
Her words stewed in your thoughts, as you looked ahead. Was there another side of it that you didn’t think about, or that you weren’t seeing?
“Yeah. Maybe…”
…
You stared at your phone on the table, the device staring back at you for a while now. You reached it, for what felt like the hundredth time now, before again deciding to retract your hand from from the device.
You nervously bit on your lip in thought, as you paced your living room, contemplating if you should call the man who was plaguing your mind for days now.
As time when on, you went on to chewing at your nails, a bad habit that no doubt, Ava picked up from you, as you debated with yourself whether to or not to, and as if your mind was read, the newly saved contact’s name appeared on your screen.
You held the phone to your ear guess weren’t surprised when he called, you figured he would eventually,-“
“ I wasn’t sure if you’d answer. I guess I got lucky the first time,” he said, followed by a nervous chuckle. “I’m glad you did though.”
“Yeah,” you heaved a light sigh, “I did.”
There was a brief silence over the phone, before you reminded Billy the reason for his call.
“…you said…you wanted to meet for coffee? To talk?”
“Yeah, that…that diner we used to go to?” He proposed, sounding hopeful.
You bit at your lip, fiddling with the button on your sweater, as you thought it over.
It was just coffee. Just to talk. And maybe it would help you get the answers you were looking for. You took longer than you thought to think it through, and you heard Billy’s voice again through the phone.
“Or if- if you prefer somewhere else, we can go there, I just remember you used to love that place. Something they did with the coffee-”
“No I- I do like that place. The diner’s fine. I’ll see you then.”
Twenty minutes later, you got to the diner, you couldn’t help but feel a certain nostalgia, even though you hadn’t stopped visiting the place, it having became Ava’s favorite place to go. It wasn’t a nostalgia of only going to the diner, but of going with Billy, and it brought up old memories.
When you walked in, you spotted Billy finishing up with the person behind the counter, and when he turned around, his eyes lit up at the sight of you and his mouth curved into a smile. He was dressed as he always was these days, his normal suit and tie.
You greeted each other, which felt a bit awkward, and you didn’t know when it had turned so awkward. Billy handed you one of the cups in his hands, which you took, with a tight lipped smile. You quietly thanked him, and you both walked over to the table closest to you, taking a seat.
“I haven’t been to this place in ages,” he said, gesturing to the place around him, “hasn’t changed much.”
“Yeah, it hasn’t,” You lifted your eyebrows and looked around, nodding, “I still come here sometimes.”
He seemed surprised to hear that, and was about to say something, when you were interrupted by the waitress approaching your table, with a plate in hand.
“Here’s your pie sir,” the waitress says, as she sets the plate down in front of Billy and he thanks her, before she walks away.
You paid no mind to the the unexpected interruption, and you were going to move on with the conversation, when you saw Billy pick up the colorful topping, adding it some of it over his pie. To someone who wouldn’t have made the same connection you were making in head, you probably looked fool, who for some reason, decided to stare in disbelief, at the desert in front of Billy.
“No way…” you mumbled to yourself, staring in astonishment at his topping choice.
Billy, understandably, looked confused, and his brows snapped together.
“Sorry, did you want one or-?”
“No, it’s not that,” you quickly shook your head, pointing to the plate in front of him, “when did you start…?”
You trailed off on your last words, but Billy picked up on what you meant.
“Oh, is it the sprinkles? I know, it’s weird and embarrassing, but it’s just something that I just picked up over the years.”
“Huh,” you hummed to yourself, as you took a sip of the coffee, trying to take your mind off of the bizarre moment, when you stopped abruptly, blinking and taken aback at the familiar taste of it.
“Did you-did you…tell them to add something to this?”
“Well yeah, vanilla.” Billy lifted his eyebrows, puzzled by your question. “You told me before that it makes it taste better.”
He remembered that? He remembered such a small detail after all these years?
“Right,” you brushed off the sudden feeling of surprise and took another sip of coffee, and after a while, Billy finished what was in front of him, and you brought up the reason you were here in the first place.
“So…you wanted to talk?”
Billy swallowed, and shifted in his seat, gazing at you.
“I never really got a chance to formally apologize,-the right way, anyway.”
You let out a small breath and nodded, and he continued.
“…I want to say, that I’m sorry. For leaving the way that I did, with no explanation, or reasoning,” he breathed. “You deserved more than that.”
You swallowed at his words, looking down at your coffee cup.
“…I did…”
“And I know that it may not seem like it, but I never intended to hurt you. And I…I want you to know, that I never stopped thinking about you, the whole time that I was gone, and I still haven’t.”
You didn’t know what to say at that, not finding an answer right away, you stayed quiet, and Billy spoke.
“…you’re not saying anything.”
Your eyes shot up to his, and your brows furrowed.
“Billy, what do you want me to say? That your apology fixes everything and that we can go back to how it used to be? After you left, I questioned if any moment that we shared, or what you felt for me was real.”
“Y/n, of course it was, I wouldn’t lie to you about any of that-“
“Well excuse me, if I thought otherwise, Billy. I mean, the way you just…cleaned out our entire apartment of everything that you owned, in a matter of hours…how could I not?”
A wave of guilt washed over his face, and he looked away, his jaw clenching slightly.
“I…called you and left you dozens of voicemails. It was a miracle that my phone didn’t stop working. Then your number stopped going through. You left…with no goodbye. And it was horrible after. So what else was I supposed to think?”
“Look,” he started, reaching over the table and took your hands in his, and the sudden action surprised you.
“The way that I’ve felt since I’ve met you, I’ve-I’ve never felt that. I’ve never felt that…happy.”
You didn’t move your hands away, but instead let him hold yours. His face hardened, a seriousness in his face, and you watched him, as his eyes focused on yours.
“And I know that an apology won’t take anything back, but I want to make it up to you. If you’ll let me.”
He looked hopeful, it was written all over his face. You wanted to say yes. It was tempted to say yes. But you had to get an answer to the question that was on your mind. Reluctantly, you pulled your hands away, shifting in your seat, and looked down at the space in front of you.
“I’m not saying yes…” Billy’s face fell, crestfallen,“but I’m not saying…no either.”
He nodded at that, as your eyes drifted to the table in front of you, searching for your next words.
“If you…felt that that way, then why did you leave?”
Your words came out in a mumble, and you heard Billy sigh at your question, and when you looked up, he wasn’t looking at you, and seemed absent, lost in thought, as if he was thinking of what to say. When he decided not to say anything at all, you did.
“You said before that it was complicated. What did you mean by that?”
It was obvious now that Billy was avoiding eye contact, which you found weird, and as he tried to avert his eyes, you tried to meet them, shifting to meet his eye level.
“Billy?,” you called, and your eyes darted back and forth between his, “what did you mean by that?”
He sighed again, and licked his lips before he spoke.
“Y/N, I don’t want to go into detail.”
His answer drew a blank stare from you and blinked, which quickly turned into a scowl.
Was he serious right now? There might’ve been a reason for why left, and why he was gone for so long…but he was refusing to tell you.
“What do you mean you don’t want to go into detail?,” you spat.
“I mean,” he briefly shut his eyes, sighing, “that it’s best if I don’t go into detail.”
It was obvious that there was something he wasn’t telling you, something he didn’t want to tell you, and you didn’t know why. You sat there and studied the grave expression on his face, as if there were a clue or a code on it that would tell you whatever was on his mind. You took a breath, ready to say something, when a phone ringing interrupted your thought.
Billy reached into his pocket and took out his phone, and his face seemed to harden even more at whatever name he read on the screen, and his jaw clenched.
“Sorry, I have to take this,” he apologized, “it’s work.”
But was it?
You nodded, and Billy stepped away to answer the phone call that he didn’t seem to eager to answer. He decided to take the call outside, which you didn’t think was necessary, and even though he was outside, Billy’s muffled voice could be heard from inside the coffee shop.
“The man himself!” Billy sardonically announced, a fake smile on his face,“you too high and mighty to go to your own meetings?”
You couldn’t hear the person on the other end of the call, but it was obvious they were saying something, as Billy would pause every now and then to listen.
“I already told your lap dog Rawlins, that I was taking care of it.”
Billy paused again, waiting for a response.
“What do you mean you want me to put it on hold?
Billy kissed his teeth at whatever the other person said, before responding.
“Look, this is an incredibly stupid thing to do right now. If you’re being watched, which is likely, it can be traced back to you. And not that I really give a shit, but when you’re backed into a corner, it affects me too.”
He paused again before responding, with an irritated tone.
“Yeah well, every time I get one of these things done, it’s my ass on the line, while you and Rawlins sit in your high chairs. And the last time was a fucking shit show.
You something that he didn’t like must’ve been said on the other end, because you could see how frustrated Billy was, as he roughly ran his free hand through his hair.
“So you want me to what? Just do it in broad daylight, in front of a calzone truck?”
He paused again.
“I’m gonna need a team. I can’t use my guys. When’s it happening?”
He waited for an answer one last time, before he finished off the conversation.
“ A week, got it. Just get me a location.”
You could see Billy through the window as he made his way back into the coffee shop, and back to your table, and you were met with an apologetic face.
“I uh, something came up, can we finish this some other time?”
You weren’t actually sure if he wanted to finish the conversation. Actually, for some reason, you were sure. Somehow you felt that even though he didn’t want to take the phone call, it aided in him not having to answer your question. Either way, you nodded, and you both said your goodbyes, before leaving the diner.
…
You held your daughter’s hand as you both walked out of the busy art store, where she’d been begging you to take her all week, with drawing being something she had been taken up recently, and to your surprise, it was something she was really talented in. Along the short walk home, Ava was speaking to you, and you would smile here and there at her words.
You didn’t mean to be distracted. You loved hearing her talk about what she did at school, or how her day was, or any other thought she had that day, but thanks to Billy, your mind was occupied with the conversation you had a few days ago, and why he was keeping something from you, when that something affected you and Ava.
You were so distracted and in your head, that you hadn’t noticed when Ava asked to play in the playground that caught her eye nearby, until she eventually pulled away from you, running towards the play area, leading you to run into an old friend.
“I wanna play on the monkey bars!” Ava gleefully announced, running towards the playground, as you followed after her trying and failing to stop her.
When you finally caught up to her, catching your breath, as she was halfway to her intended destination.
“Sweetheart, it’s freezing and we’re almost home-“
“Just five minutes! I wanna practice, I’ve been getting better!”
After Ava’s consistent pleading, and making her signature puppy dog eyes that she definitely didn’t get from you, you agreed.
“Okay,” you sighed, and her face lit up when you agreed, when you stopped her again. “But you have to wear the hat.”
A frown fixed her face and her nose scrunched up.
“But it’s itchy!”
“I know it’s itchy, but I don’t want you to get sick-“
“Y/N?”
You suddenly turned your head at the mention of your name, and were with the face of a familiar blonde, you hadn’t seen in years.
“Karen?”
A large smile that reached her eyes fixed her face, and before you knew it you were pulled into a tight hug, which after a few seconds, after the surprise waned over, you returned. When you pulled out of the hug, Ava was suddenly standing next to you, which caught Karen’s attention.
Her eyes widened at the sight of her and she looked her over, her face flushed with surprise and her mouth slightly agape, which you could tell, she tried to cover up with a smile.
“And who’s this adorable young lady?,” Karen smiled and gestured next to you, which earned her a smile from Ava, and you answered, with a smile.
“This, is Ava,” you introduced, putting your hands on her shoulders, “my…daughter.”
It was obvious that she was still surprised, when she replied with a nod and a smile, and her eyes were still on Ava, when you broke the few seconds of silence, which shifted Karen’s attention back to you.
“Are you…in a rush?” You asked, motioning to the bag hanging off her shoulder, “if not, we can catch up, for a few minutes?”
She gave your offer thought, before answering.
“No, not at all,” she replied with a nod, “I was just on my way to lunch. Catching up’s nice.”
You both made your way to the bench near the playground, where you could see Ava dangling from the monkey bars, and you laughed to yourself at how she got away with not having to wear her hat. It was quiet for a few minutes and Karen spoke.
“How have you been?” She asked, pushing a stand of hair behind her ear, “It’s been so long.”
It had been a really long time, and there was a reason for that. The air was coarse between you two, and anyone could see that from a mile away. What was once a comfortable and comforting friendship, turned into this uncomfortable bitterness. A few years ago, you would’ve called Karen a good friend, a close one, but that friendship boiled down to just strangers passing by.
You wouldn’t say that it was her fault you had a falling out. Actually, it wasn’t really, any of her fault and more yours, having to do with you being pissed. Previously, at her, but mostly, at her partner.
You shifted towards her at her question, letting out a deep breath.
“It has. I’ve been well,” you nodded.
“And busy,” she gestured to Ava, “it looks like.”
Your mouth parted slightly, and your eyes followed to where she was pointing.
“Oh,” you smiled, “yeah. But she’s the best.”
Your attention directed to Ava, as she called for you from afar.
Mom! Look at me, I’m doing it!” She pointed out, as she dangled from the monkey bars.
“I see you, sweetheart! You’re doing great!,” you yelled back, and you could hear her laugh in return.
“I’m sure. I mean, she’s the cutest.”
You laughed and agreed with Karen’s kind words. Her mouth parted slightly, and you could tell that she wanted to say something, but when she seemed to struggle with her words, you took over.
“And how are you? How are things at work? I’ve seen some of your articles, over the years, t’s-it’s really good work,” you complimented.
“Thank you, yeah, things are going great. Really great,” she replied.
“Glad to hear it.” You quickly said back, and another question pulled at your thoughts, and you hesitated, before deciding to ask away.
“And how’s…,” your eyes drifted downward, “how’s Frank doing? I haven’t seen him since…”
Well, you hadn’t seen Frank since you told him to fuck off.
“He’s good,” she nodded, before giving a half smile,“He’s staying out of trouble, at least.”
When you nodded, Karen quickly changed the conversation.
“She really resembles him, you know,” your head shot in her direction at her words, “you can tell, that she’s his, um…”
She trailed off on her last words, and her eyebrow’s furrowed.
“…have you…seen him around lately? Billy, I mean…”
“Yeah,” you breathed, nodding, “I don’t know if you know, but he has that company now, Anvil, and he’s kind of set up at my job now. It’s a long a long story, but I have the gift of seeing him every week now, so…” you replied in a sardonic tone.
She gave you a tight lipped smile, and you continued.
“Um…he actually, doesn’t know about her yet. I haven’t told him yet, so if you could just keep this between us, for now-“
“Oh, he… he doesn’t?”
An expression that you couldn’t place fell over her face, but she quickly nodded. “Yeah, of-of course I can. It stays between us.”
You sat there again in silence for another few minutes, the air growing coarse again. It seemed that Karen couldn’t hold in what she wanted to say since she you had sat down, so she voice it.
“Y/N…why didn’t you…reach out to us? You could’ve told us,” you turned to her again, and her eyes soft. “You could’ve told me.”
You closed your eyes, sighing.
“I know, Karen. I was just, really, really pissed and-“
“I know you didn’t believe me when I told you, that Frank didn’t tell me what he knew. I tried, but I couldn’t get it out of him.”
Guilt washed over you, and your heart sunk at her words.
“No, Karen, I believed you. After, I calmed down anyway…”
“We tried to check on you. Frank came by dozens of times. And…You just cut us off, Y/N,”
“I know,” you sighed, “and I’m sorry, Karen. But… you have to understand, that I couldn’t just sit there and act like everything was okay, when Frank was just, lying to my face…”
She wanted to say something, but you beat her to it.
“Karen, he knew…he knew where my boyfriend was, and he just lied. I know that he knew. He had this look in his eyes, l-like guilt. Curtis more than Frank, but it was there. I didn’t have any proof, and I know it’s hard to tell those kinds of things with Frank, but-“
“I know better than anyone,” she chimed in. “And I agree with you,” you looked at her, eyebrows furrowed, “I do think he knew where Billy was. I don’t know if they made some kind of, stupid pact, or whatever, but I think you’re right.”
It made you feel a little better that Karen agreed with you, and you didn’t feel crazy for thinking what you thought.
“I know that I’ve asked you this, a million times before but, is there anything that seemed out the ordinary, at all, the months or weeks before? Even the smallest thing?”
You shook your head, the only answer you’ve ever had for the question that Karen asked you so many times. You’d thought about it, so many times, and found nothing out of the ordinary-
Or…there might’ve been that one time.
About a month before Billy disappeared from your life.
It was a brief moment, so brief that it could’ve been nothing.
But again…maybe?
It was after a very…intimate moment between you and Billy. It was brought up just as quickly as it was over, so you paid no mind to it. But maybe it was an important detail in this.
“There might’ve been this one time, actually,” Karen’s attention shifted to you, and you continued.
“It was, out of nowhere and I didn’t pay any attention to it then but…he asked me if I would run away with him? I mean, I thought he was joking, so I played along, but he never brought it up again, so…”
You and Karen sat there, in deep thought, think over you’re words, if they even meant anything.
“It could mean something but,” Karen started, pausing in her words, “I just don’t think that, things are as black and white as they seem. They rarely ever are.”
A few days later, you found Karen’s words to be true.
You and Jaz had fell asleep on the couch when you heard it the knocking.
First it started with a few knocks that eventually got louder by the minute, which woke you up after the first few. Your eyes quickly peeled open as you glanced and the door, and it slightly shook as the person behind it kept their pattern in knocking. You glanced at your phone, checking the time that read 1:AM, and you didn’t want to answer the door alone, so you nudged Jaz awake.
“Jaz,” you called in a heightened whisper, and when she didn’t respond, you called again.
The knocking got louder again, and you urgently nudged her again.
“Jaz!”
She groaned, turning on her side, ignoring the knocking, and you.
“Jaz, there someone at the door,”you said, and behind your words, the knocking proceeded.
“Ugh,” Jaz turned on her side now, glancing at the door, “maybe if we don’t answer, they’ll go away.”
Jaz replied waving it off, when another series of loud knocks, startled the both of you, making the both of you jump. You looked at each other, worried.
“They’re not going away…” you whispered again, fear in your voice.
The knocking continued, and you decided that you were going to look through the peephole, instead of asking who it is, when Jaz stopped you.
“What you doing?!” She asked, in a whispering yell.
“I’m just gonna check who it is-“
“Y/N, no, you can’t just check who it is! That’s the number one thing that you don’t do! You look through the peephole, and boom! Next thing you know you’re dead!”
The loud knocking startled you both again, but thins time, you both heard a muffled hissing, and a heavy breath coming from the person outside, and if you guessed, the person sounded like they were breathing through pain.
You glanced at her, a confused expression painting your features.
“That’s ridiculous okay, I’m gonna go see who it is-“
“Wait!,” Jaz carefully got up from the couch, and reached behind it, taking out a hidden baseball bat, that you didn’t know existed.
“When did you put there?!,” you asked, trying to keep your voice low.
“It doesn’t matter, I got it for protection,” she shrugged.
“But this is a pretty good neighborhood!”
“Y/N, you can never be too careful! So you get the door, open it, and I’ll swing-“
“No, okay! I’m not going to open the door, I’m just going to speak,” Jaz reluctantly agreed, as you made your way over to the door, and as you got closer, the loud knocking made you jump again, and you opened your mouth to speak, trying to hide your shaky voice.
“Who-whoever it is, we have a weapon! So if you know what’s good for you, you should leave us alone!”
Then, you heard a familiar chuckle from the other side of the door, quickly followed by a grunt and heavy breathing, causing you and Jaz to exchange confusing looks, and the person spoke.
“That was really believable, Y/N,” he hissed in between, “you could’ve fooled me.”
“Billy?”
…
Taglist:
@celestialams
@snowkestrel
@promnightbinbaby
@intothesoul
@weallhaveadestiny
@ramadiiiisme
@patniera
@wolfmoonmusic
@polireader
@mysweetlittledesire
@rainbowgoblinfan
@justyoursimpleflower
@naxxsstuff
@simp4panos
@nosebeers
Teeth
Part 4!
Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3
Werepanther! Billy Russo x Female Reader
Oh, @marvelmusing, I bet you thought that was the last of it...
Warnings: heavy voyeurism, smut, hints of angst.
B.Russo.
That's what he'd written on the scrap of paper. What was the 'B' for?
Probably Big cock because honestly, even though you had resisted temptation and not looked, his entire vibe expressed in detail how big his dick probably was.
He was... really something. His entire aura made you want to curl up beside him, have him hold you protectively while you slept. You just wanted to touch him, and keep touching him, and maybe kiss him if he wanted.
The memory of some of your dreams of him come to mind, they'd been eerily vivid, slow kisses and eager touches and words that you couldn't remember but the feeling of hearing them was seared into you.
Fuck, you might like him a little more than you expected.
You wanted to text him, maybe send him a message, but you were so trapped by fear.
What if he hadn't meant it like that? Maybe this was just for emergencies, and he would find you annoying if you tried. Maybe he found you annoying enough already.
You sigh, putting your phone down.
Where had that sarcastic girl inside of you gone? The one that had sassed a serial killer who was about to end her?
You'd felt yourself change so much after that experience, scared of the world around you, and you missed her, you missed the person that you used to be.
She wouldn't have had any problems asking a hot guy his name.
Then again, William wasn't just any hot guy, he was still a client, and you definitely should not get involved.
He was probably just extending a courtesy to you anyway.
.
It was annoying how much he found himself staring at his phone.
Fuck. Had he come on too strong?
He rubs a tired hand over his face, exhausted.
The predator was scratching at the inside of his mind endlessly, turning his brain to shreds. Demanding he go to her, demanding he find her, and kiss her, and pick her up, seat her soft body on his, feel the heat of her arousal between her thighs-
His phone rings.
Fuck.
Truly, everything was so tedious now, mind-numbingly boring. He no longer wanted to spend long hours at the office, sacrificing his personal time for work, he wanted you. He wanted an existence, where he could go home to you, crawl into bed beside you, rest his body beside yours, stay there beside you until he rots, leaving only your bones and his together, a lifetime of eternal peace.
He blinks, realises how insane his thoughts are.
He didn't know the first thing about you.
No, that wasn't true, he knew lots, he knew how you laughed and he knew the sound of your voice and the scent of your skin and there was a million more things to learn and he wanted to know them all.
.
"Surprise!" Dani exclaims as you open the door to her.
You laugh in amusement, unable to see much of her face through the magnificently large palm plant in her hands.
"How on earth are you holding on to that? It's fucking huge." You say, stepping aside to let her in.
"I'm strong, I get by." She replies easily, moving to place the plant by your nearest window.
You watch her, as you close the front door.
She grabs at the heavy curtains, pulling them aside to let some sunlight in.
"Oh, this place is awesome, I love the little balcony." She comments, staring out of the windows.
You grin.
"Thanks, honestly, I don't go out there much." Or even open your curtains, but you'd definitely have to have some sunlight come in now for your new plant friend.
"Can I?" She asks, and waits for your nod of approval before pulling the glass door open.
The cool air of the morning spills in, you find yourself liking it, appreciating new things about your new apartment.
Truthfully, having the windows open made you a little bit on edge, you didn't know who would be able to look in, and it paired oddly with your feeling of constantly being watched.
Outside certainly wasn't too bad though, as you inched closer to the window, you found that you could see a little into the house next door, a kitchen area and a little bit of a sitting area, with a cute fireplace.
This was his house, you realise with abject facination.
"Who's house?" Dani asks, pulling you out of your thoughts.
"Uh, the guy I was telling you about, who helped me with my bags the other day."
"Big dick Russo?"
You smile.
"Yeah, him."
"Hmm, nice place." She comments, moving away from the window.
When your second friend arrives, she brings a jar of cacao nibs and a crate of strawberries.
You happily thank Amy, washing some of the strawberries and settling into the couch to enjoy them.
You'd been friends with Dani and Amy for a lot of your life, and you'd come a long way with them. They were both there that night, you'd been trying to keep them safe when you'd taken off running.
You remember the aftermath, stumbling back toward the sound of their voices calling your name, trying to explain to them, with barely any breath left in your lungs, what had happened.
They hadn't left you alone for even a second that night, at least one of them in sight at all times.
If it weren't for them, the aftermath would have decimated you.
You curl up happily with your strawberries, listening to their little updates.
You smile when Dani turns her concerned eyes to you, she asks how you've been sleeping.
"Actually a lot better here. I feel surprisingly safe."
She nods in understanding.
"Yeah, the doorman looked at me so suspiciously it was almost funny. If you didn't call ahead, he might have kicked me out."
You smile, nodding.
"No more surprise birthday parties for me."
"Well, I can always seduce him into letting me in." She says with a shrug of her shoulder, earning a laugh from you.
Amy, who has been making herself a cup of tea, squeaks loudly.
You spin to look at her, her eyes open comically wide, hands clamped over her mouth as she stares out the open door to the balcony.
"Oh my god, what?" Dani says, standing suddenly to move to another window, parting the curtains slightly to look out.
She looks for a second, eyes scanning the area in confusion, before her mouth drops open.
"What?" you say moving to take a peek over her shoulder.
At first you don't see it, you don't know where to look, your first thought was something on the roof of the next building or maybe the ground below, before movement in the opposite window catches your eye.
Your mouth goes dry.
His hair is wet, fresh from a shower, his torso is bare. You blink, trying to double check that he was in fact there, in his kitchen, half-naked after a shower, a towel wrapped around his hips.
He reaches into one of the taller cupboards, grabbing a mug, the muscles of his back flexing as he closes the cupboard door.
Your body tingles at the sight of him. You watch him scratch the corner of his lip absentmindedly as he checks his phone, turning away to disappear deeper into his home where you can't see.
"Jesus Christ." Dani whispers, reminding you that she was there, a small frown forming on your face as you realise that you're not the only one admiring him.
"We shouldn't be watching him." You try to say, looking at Amy, who does not draw her eyes away from the window.
Dani's gasp pulls your attention, and you try to peek over her shoulder once more.
His hair is askew, his body a little less wet now, black boxers replacing the towel on his hips.
"That's a big dick for sure." Dani whispers.
"Stop. Enough." You say with finality, reaching around her to shut the curtains in her face.
You close in the balcony door next, avoiding looking over as you draw the curtains shut.
Everyone is silent for a moment, before Amy says your name.
"Please send him a text." She says, with pleading eyes.
You let out a little huff.
.
There's a fascination for him that does not leave you, and when you find him in your dreams later that night, you make sure to express all your pent up frustrations very clearly.
He's standing in your living room, studying the little palm tree. He turns to you with a smile when he senses you approaching.
You are not smiling.
Hands gripping his wrists, you pull at him, almost angry in your feverish movements.
He looks stunned when you push him to a sitting position on your couch.
You're still in your vintage night dress, all soft fabrics and little bows, you raise the hem, sliding yourself onto his lap easily.
He's still looking at you with surprised eyes, he doesn't know what's brought this on but he does not want to stop it in any way.
"What will it take to make you mine?" You whisper, leaning into him. His eyebrows draw together, confused.
"I already am." he answers easily, just as your noses brush.
"I wish you were," you say harshly against his mouth, "I wish you knew how badly I want you."
"I was made for you." He confesses, a promise against your lips as his fingers secure themselves to the spot behind your neck, pulling you in.
Your mouths meld together, a blissful sigh from each mouth.
Your body calls out to him, empty, aching.
You take his free hand, guiding it slowly over your thigh, so that he touches the spot right over your womb.
"I need you right here." You gasp into his mouth, and you feel his fingers tighten reflexively on the back of your neck.
He says your name, a whispered prayer.
"Please. I'm so tired of being empty." You plead, ready to beg if he would just give you what you crave.
"I'm right here," he promises, hands caressing either side of your face, kissing your lips one more time for good measure.
"And I'm not going anywhere."
When you wake, it's with a sad sigh.
It's odd, to be this disastrously needy, and yet feel an ache in your chest like never before.
You strip your nightdress off, your body exposed to the cool air of your room, only your underwear on to shield you from what you're about to do next.
You're not thinking when you pull your bedroom curtains open, all you want, is for him to see.
It doesn't matter that he's a stranger, or that he's a client. In the dark of the night, with the moonlight streaming in, all you want him to be, is yours.
.
He isn't expecting it.
So when he moves to his windows to check for movement, he doesn't think it's real.
For a moment, he thinks he might still be dreaming.
But no.
There you are.
Your curtains parted, and he can see right into your bedroom, the moonlight soft on your gorgeous skin.
You writhe on your sheets, one hand on your breast, the other- he swallows- the other under the lining of your panties.
You were playing with yourself.
His heart hammers in his head, the predator roars.
He watches, it doesn't take much for you to come, back arching, quiet gasps, trembling thighs.
Your chest heaves as you try to suck in air. He wishes he was in the room with you. The scent of your cunt must be filling the room by now, despite the flimsy piece of fabric between your thighs.
What were you thinking about? Was it him?
You tug your fingers out of your underwear, his mouth waters at the sight of your glistening fingers.
He groans, backs away from the windows so that his silhouette isn't visible. Watches you close the curtains, and disappear from his view.
It's well into the morning, long after he's been awake, after his Sunday morning run, he's standing in his kitchen, blending a smoothie, when his phone goes off, a little picture display telling him exactly who it is.
'What's the 'B' in your name stand for?'
Billy smiles.
.
.
.
Teeth
Part 3!
Werepanther!Billy Russo x Female Reader
This is @marvelmusing 's fault.
Part 1 // Part 2
Warnings: Mentions of trauma from past parts, dream smut, more dumbass dancing.
By every account, you should be dead.
When they'd finally been able to identify the remains of the man who'd tried to kill you and your friends, they'd discovered that his DNA had been matched with several cases that had gone cold throughout the years.
He'd been something of an expert in the matters of killing and there was no doubt in your mind that you would have never made it out of that forest alive.
If it weren't for the panther.
You're sure it was a panther now, and not a mountain lion that you had told the cops before. You'd learned how absolutely impossible it was that it had been a panther from the forest rangers that had spent weeks after searching for the magnificent creature.
Yet still, in the darkness of the night, when you were wound too tightly from work or the trauma of having been hunted, it was the panther that soothed you.
It had seen something in you, liked you, the softness of its fur on your cheek, the intelligence in its eyes, the fierceness of its protection.
It could have left you, walked away, decided not to get involved and left you to be prey, killed for whatever sick pleasure the hunter would get out of it.
Instead, the panther had looked at you, and decided that you were worth saving.
In the darkness of your room, you let out a dreamy sigh, fingers wrapping instinctively around your pendant, closing your eyes as sleep finally takes you.
You dream of it.
You're lying in a field of grass, surrounding by the brightness of the blue sky and the rushing sound of wind.
It's glorious, peaceful, and when you roll onto your side, there he is.
The panther stares easily at you, lying on his stomach, tail flicking peacefully as he looks at you.
You smile, getting closer, watching him as he watches you and makes no move to get away.
When you are close enough, lying alongside him, you finally relax.
The panther dips his head, nose pressed to your cheek affectionately, a rough lick that makes you giggle.
After a moment of silence, you decide to speak.
"I know the common idea is that big cats are dangerous," you say, fingers tracing his large paw, "but I think, if you wanted to kill me, I'd let you."
A low growling sound escapes him. Something that sends a spike of fear down your spine, makes you stiffen, and try to back away.
Before you can, he's licking softly at your cheek again, in what you sense might be an apology, like he didn't mean to make you afraid of him, but he was just upset at your words.
You raise a hand to pet the top of his head, he purrs loudly. The sound vibrates your eardrums, washes your mind with peace.
You spend long lovely minutes curled into him, enjoying where you are, the peace you feel.
When you roll away from him, it's hands that bring you back.
Real human hands, large ones that grip your hips and turn you back to face him.
You peek an eye open, and the panther isn't there anymore.
Instead, it's William, the object of your desires, looking down at you with dark eyes.
You're still not afraid, fully aware that this is a dream after all, you smile at him, parting your thighs when you feel his hand slip lower, eager to feel his touch, the scorching heat if his palm on your thigh, the slow way he trails it up to cup you between your legs.
You sigh, relaxed, basking in his quiet attention, rocking your hips into the heel of his palm.
You whine when pleasure lights up your senses. He takes his time slipping his hand beneath the waistband of your underwear. You gasp at the rough feel of his hand.
"I can't tell you how much I think about this." He murmurs softly, drawing your attention back to him.
William looks at you, studying your face intently as his fingers gently toy with your clit.
"I can't quantify it. Every waking moment, every second of sleep. All I can think about is you."
The words are a delight to hear, they make you feel so at ease.
"Maybe a thousand times. Maybe a hundred thousand. Maybe it's really just one time that's still happening because I haven't been able to stop."
He leans in, presses his nose to your jaw, takes a deep breath, groans.
"Who cares anyway- doesn't matter how many times I think about you. I'm going to think about you for the rest of my life."
You gasp at his words, your heart swells, his fingers continue to tease you, your legs shake with the torment.
You need to kiss him, raising a hand to wrap your fingers behind his neck, pulling him down, down, down-
You wake before your lips touch with a gasp.
Christ, you'd never had a dream so vivid.
You shift slightly, your cunt is dripping, aching for what it just had, a stranger's fingers playing with you.
Because that's what he was, despite the sweet words your brain had conjured, William was a stranger, a client, nothing more.
Maybe your new bout of vivid dreams stemmed from your recent move to your new apartment.
You'd done the move because you'd no longer felt safe at your old place. There wasn't anything wrong with it, but the paranoia had kept you up at night, constantly made you feel like you were being watched.
Your therapist had suggested maybe looking around for a change in scenery, and you decided that it couldn't hurt.
Your new apartment building had almost immediately set you at ease. The level of security made you feel well protected, and there was just something about it, maybe the large windows, or the fact that the walls weren't thin, something, that just made you feel at ease. Like for the first time in a while you had a space that you could make your own.
You loved it, you couldn't wait to finish unpacking.
You'd parked your car on the street, because the front door of the building was easier to get through with all your items than the garage entrance. It was just a couple of boxes and bags, things you'd asked your friends to hold on to for a moment so that you didn't have to worry about storage.
The sun had just set, and darkness was settling, there was a bit of quiet- or as quiet as New York could get anyway.
Even now, you felt watched, there was just a paranoia to being outside that you hadn't shaken from your bones. It made you afraid, it made you worry about whether your mind was really playing tricks on you or not.
You grab as many bags as possible, anxiety spiking when you hear a rustling nearby, someone was coming, someone was coming-
Someone with a familiar voice says your name.
With bags hanging off your shoulders and piled into your arms, you turn in surprise.
"Mister Russo?" You say in question, eyes widening at the sight of him.
Be cool be cool be cool.
He's dressed in- good lord- a white t-shirt and grey sweatpants.
You keep your eyes on his, trying your absolute hardest not to look down.
"What are you doing here?" You ask, trying to stop your arms from shaking from the weight of your bags.
"I live over there." He explains, turning and gesturing to the lovely townhouse right next to your apartment building.
Oh god damn what happened to never seeing him again?
He turns back to you, you gulp at the size of him, the calm expression on his face.
"You look a little overwhelmed. Is it okay if I helped you get these to wherever they're going?"
Fuck.
The way he phrases the question makes you moan internally, other men would just try to take your things from you without asking permission, trying to assert their strength and dominance on you with no respect for your boundaries. It was amazing to learn that William was not like that.
He was hot, and he most definitely did not like you.
You swallow, nodding, and extending some of the bags for him to hold on to.
"Are you sure?" You ask, hoping you weren't taking him from something more important.
When your fingers brush, a slow heat eases its way down your spine.
"Yes. I wouldn't have offered if I wasn't sure." He answers easily, reaching out for you to put the last two bags into his hands.
"Um, I can carry these." You suggest, not wanting to have him carry absolutely everything for you.
He blinks, tilting his head.
"I'm assuming you're going into this building?" He asks, inclining his head in the direction of your aparment building.
When you nod, he continues.
"You'll need a hand free for the door then. I can handle one more bag." He says, extending his hand again.
Fuck, his hands were big. You wonder how he would react if you put your hand in his, instead of the little bag.
Probably shake it off and leave you here in a pile of your bags.
You slip the last bag into his hand, and he waits patiently for you to lock up your car.
When the doorman sees him, intead of making you sign him in, he simply nods his head for you to go along.
"Do you know him?" You ask curiously, when the doorman is out of earshot.
William inclines his head.
"He works for me. I manage this building's security protocols."
Right, you had a CEO carrying your bags.
You nod in understanding, stepping into the elevator when it arrives.
"I should have realised it was you, the system is set up similar to Anvil's." You look down, trying to limit the things you say to him. He was still a client after all.
"I hope that's not a bad thing."
"Definitely not!" You look up at him with widening eyes, "You're good at your job is all." You say, gulping, looking away, playing with your keys.
God, why did he have to make you so nervous?
After a moment, he speaks.
"Thank you. You're good at your job too."
You give him a genuine smile of thanks.
The elevator opens on your floor.
"Which reminds me- I hope the analysis I sent over is okay." You say, stepping out.
"Yes, my team is reviewing it now." he answers.
This is so awkward, you think, grabbing your key card to unlock the door.
"Also," he continues as you unlock the door, "I took your advice and started a small focus group on workplace etiquette. I appreciate the suggestion."
He did?
"That's good to hear," You say, taking some of the bags from him, "I was worried I'd crossed a line."
"Not at all. I appreciate people that can tell me the truth. I despise sugarcoating."
It pulls a genuine smile from you, and in return, you get a small one from him.
Truly, a work of art.
When there's nothing left in his arms, you catch him looking around your place.
"Yeah, it's pretty bare," You try to excuse the scanty look of it.
"It's lovely." He says easily, turning to look at you.
You gulp, flames licking at your cheeks.
"Thank you. For everything, sorry if I took up too much of your time."
"Don't apologise." He says.
You nod.
"Sorry."
He takes a step toward you, you look up in surprise.
"Take it back."
"W-why?"
"Because I was happy to help, and I don't want you to apologise for it." He takes another step until he's almost in your personal space.
"Oh, s-"
When he raises his eyebrows in warning, your voice dies in your throat.
"Um, thank you." You say finally, and he gives you a smile, a real, genuine smile that weakens your knees.
"You're welcome, and if you need anything-" He sidesteps you, reaching for the notepad and pen sitting on the dining table behind you, "- don't hesistate to call. Anytime, for anything. Yes?"
You swallow, reaching for the piece of paper as he extends it to you.
He was giving you his number?
"Yes." You say after a beat, breathless in his overwhelming presence.
"Good." He whispers, takes a deep breath, looking at you for a beat longer, before moving to your front door. You part your lips, almost offering to walk him down, if only to stay in his presence for just a second longer.
"Have a nice night." He says, barely sparing you a glance as he walks out your door.
It takes you a moment, staring at the door in shock, his number clutched in your hands, before you can even respond.
"You too." You say to no one, voice barely above a whisper.
He hears it anyway.
.
.
.
Hair Salon
Pairing:- Billy Russo x Reader
Warnings:- some kisses, sexual tension, making out, billy being handsy
Word count:- 581
Summary:- You try to style Billy's hair, but he has other plans.
A/N:- soooo, i have never written for billy, this is my first time, so I tried a bit, with a small drabble, hope you like it. Likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated very much. English is not my first language. Gif is not mine, credits to the owner.
"Stop moving so much."
"I will, when you stop touching my hair." He grumbled back.
You were trying to style Billy's hair.
Not an easy task if you must ask.
Billy prided on his looks all the way. He believed that the first impression should always be the best and if your looks can do that, there should be nothing stopping that.
So when he told you about an upcoming meeting with a potential client, quite a big one, you suggested a change in his style.
"You always wear your hair slicked back, what if you change that this time?"
"So you're saying that my hair doesn't look good, sweetheart?" He had said, raising his eyebrows at you.
"No—no, I—I didn't mean that. I was just suggesting something." You spluttered out.
"Mm, you weren't saying that with your hands in my hair last night." He replied with a teasing tone.
"Oh shut it." You grumbled back, heat creeping up your face.
Billy chuckled and pulled you towards himself. You immediately snuggled up in his chest, his arms coming around you, holding you against himself.
"Alright, since you asked so sweetly, I'll let you do it."
You were about cheer out, when he cut in and said,
"But, before the meeting, I need a test round tomorrow night."
"You got it sir." You said with hand raising in salute earning yourself a light smack on your ass.
And that's how you found yourself sitting in a very disgruntled Billy's lap, his arms around your thighs supporting you.
"I am doing this for you, Billy." You grumbled back, eyes focused, and fingers tangled in his hair.
He grumbled something incoherent which you chose to ignore. A moment passed, without any words passed between you two, though you could feel Billy's gazing up at you. Slowly his hands started rubbing the length of your thighs and settled on your hips applying little pressure and squeezing.
"Stop squirming sweetheart, gonna mess up my hair." His raspy voice called out, amusement dancing in his eyes at your misery.
"Then stop doing that." Your voice wavered as he applied a bit more pressure, dragged his hands under your t-shirt, his t-shirt, and settled at your sides, his fingers splayed over your ribs.
"Doing what? I am just…helping you relax. Keeping you calm while you work to ambush my hair." Billy replied, teasing your sides.
At a particularly harsh swipe of his fingers around your ribs, you squirmed back, squealing and almost falling off his lap but saved from his hold on you.
"Okay that's enough." He called out and pulled you back to your position, and nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck, mouthing your flesh and descending towards your collarbone.
"Billy." You whined out when his teeth scraped out around your collarbone.
Your hands tangled in his hair, and at a particularly harsh bite from him, you pulled back his hair making him pull back from your neck and look at you, amusement in his eyes, pleased with himself.
"Think I like this hair salon better than my usual one." You snorted at his comment, rolling your eyes.
"You like the salon or the stylist, Russo?"
He hummed back, "Definitely the stylist."
"So, you'd let me style your hair again." He snorted and then replied,
"Definitely if this is how it ends." And then he picked you up, holding you from your thighs, taking you to his bed.
You definitely liked being his hairstylist.
Pumpkin's Father And Your Lover
Pairing :- Sirius Black x reader
Word count:- 2.7k
Summary:- Sirius and you find a kitten, apparently she is a matchmaker
Warnings:- swearing, some sexual tension, i think that's all?? Tell me if you find more
A/N:- Hello everyone! Yes, I have started writing again after one and half years and you can guess i am really rusty so be kind please. Also, I am opening my requests, if you want to, drop in some, characters can be either marauders, except peter, billy Russo, tasm!Peter Parker or aleksander morozova. Thank you! Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated!
The Great Hall echoed the chatters of students from all the houses. Some hushed whispers and some loud laughs, some bright smiling faces and some silent tear stained faces.
Your body shook with giggles induced by a certain sarcastic prefect from Gryffindor, you were met with a nudge on the knee from the victim of the remark who was pretending to give you a glare.
You just grinned at him and got one in the reply.
You still didn't believe how the cliché meeting with the raven haired boy had turned into this, this beautiful friendship.
When in your fifth year you met this gorgeous owner of the gorgeous eyes, you never would have guessed where it'd take you.
"Mr.Black that's enough!"
"But it wasn't me, professor! I swear it wasn't me this time!"
You had to bite your lip to stop yourself from bursting into a fit of giggles. Your benchmate, or to be precise, Remus Lupin, the embodiment of a disciplined, sweet, honest guy had been flying paper planes from the last ten minutes of the transfiguration class, making them land beside the professor's desk.
Oh and if that wasn't enough, they were charmed as when they landed, the paper shredded into fragments while in the voice of the victim, Sirius Black, a very bad redemption of ' D'yer Mak'er ' would sound out in the class.
Somehow, one day Remus Lupin sat next to you, a trade of your giggles and his witty remarks was made and now both of you were benchmates.
"Well then who was it?" Mcgonagall asked.
"I don't know, professor! Obviously someone who hates you! And you know that can't be me, I love you with my whole heart!" You snorted behind your hand at his imitation of puppy dog eyes. He was definitely good at it.
"One more time Mr.Black, and you would be serving a week's detention."
"But professor —"
"Enough!"
"Everyone back to work!" And with that, the students went back to work while you were still giggling with the sandy haired boy next to you.
"I can't believe you are so cruel to him, he is your friend!" You asked in fake shock and a grin on your face.
"Well that's what he gets for stealing my chocolates." The boy snorted.
"I knew it!"You both were startled by the sudden voice from behind you.
Sirius was standing behind you both glaring at you two.
"Mr.Black, why are you shouting in the class?" Professor asked furiously.
"Professor, it was Remus who was doing it all! I just heard him saying that!"
Remus and you both turned back towards the professor, with guilty looks on your face and accepting the accusations.
Mcgonagall looked disappointed but just shook her head.
"Mr.Lupin, I would expect better from you, but that would be wrong since you are part of this baboon group."
"Professor!" Four different voices shouted at the same time.
"Professor, we are 'The Marauders'." Peter said, puffing out his chest, followed by the other three.
Mcgonagall just shook her head and said,
"Alright, Mr.Lupin, shift back to your place with Ms.Evans and Mr.Black you take Mr.Lupin's previous place."
"But—but why?" Sirius shouted, his eyes wide.
"Well because I said so." Mcgonagall set him with a look that said no more arguments.
He sighed then said,
"But no detention for these two." You stared at him wide eyed.
Arsehole.
"Considering their previous records, no."
You smirked looked back at him with a look that said,
'suck it'
That was your first interaction with him and many more after that which lead you two here right now, near the lake sitting under a tree. Well you were sitting and he was lying next to you.
"Do you think the merpeople in the lake would be offended if we gave them fish food? Or if we give them our food."
"What I think is that Sirius, why are you thinking that, of all the things you can think of you thought to think about that thing."
"You hurt my brain."
"Surprised you have one."
He glared at you while you just grinned at him.
He closed his eyes and you were suddenly hit by the realisation how beautiful the boy next to you was.
It would be so easy to fall in love with him. Sirius was, if not the most, one of the most beautiful guys you have met.He was charming, he was beautiful and most of all, he was caring, in his own way. You were jealous of the girls who could touch him in a way that you could never, girls who had the opportunity to look in those eyes and get lost in the cosmos held behind them, girls who could hear his raspy voice, the breathy whispers that escaped him the haze of pleasure.
You closed your eyes and tried to shake off the image in your head. Your palms were suddenly getting sweaty and you felt suffocated.
A small mewl sounded near you. Shaking you out of the daze he put you in, and hadn't even done anything yet. Sirius sat up and looked around, like you, to find the source of voice.
Looking around, your eyes found a pair of big brown eyes staring at you and mewling. Standing up, cautiously you made your way towards the feline and bent to scoop her in your arms. The little kitten was calm, nuzzled her head in your arms making you coo at her.
Sirius, surprised by the sudden change in your demeanour, stood up and made his way towards you, kneeling beside looking at the small animal in your arms.
The ginger white fur poked out of you embrace and a soft expression masked your features as you gently caressed the fur.
He was jealous. He was jealous of the feline and how it had taken her so little time to take you away from him. But at the same time he was thankful. He was thankful because sitting there, kneeling beside you he could see the sunlight reflecting from your hair, the soft tug upwards of your lips, the pretty smile he longed to watch at every waking moment, the soft gentle eyes he would love to get lost in and never to find a way out of. It was maddening how much he adored you. He adored you more than he could feel, you made his heart feel full, and yet always light like it was filled with nothing but love for you. You made him feel drunk on the oldest wine, always in that daze, but he had never tasted one.
It would be so easy right now. So easy to learn forward and brush his lips to your cheek, so easy to tangle his fingers in your hair, so easy just to close his eyes and get lost in the dream in which you were his.
He snapped out his daze when you called his name.
"Siri, look, she's so cute, isn't she?" A soft smile plastered on your face, you looked at him and he wished that you would always look at him like that. He raised his hand to brush it against the fur of the kitten, who raised her head from your arms and nuzzled it around his fingers.
Choked on emotions a raspy hum sounded out of him.
The kitten now had her whole attention on him. Before either of you could comprehend what was happening, she jumped out of your arms, towards him.
Acting on instinct, Sirius caught her mid air and brought her to his chest while both of you stared at her, wide eyed and with wild expression, she just mewled and snuggled close to him.
"Merlin, she nearly gave me a heart attack." Sirius breathed out.
Now that you were out of shock of the stunt the little creature pulled, you watched as Sirius pulled her closer to his chest and how he ran his fingers to her fur.
"Aw, look at that. The bad boy, player Sirius Black turning soft for a small kitten." You cooed, pinching his cheek.
A warmth spread over Sirius at your gesture but quickly recovered and countered back,
"I am not getting soft."
"You are."
"Not."
"Are."
"Not."
"Are."
"Not."
"Are."
"Not."
"Not."
"Are."
"Ha! Gotcha ya."
He scowled but you saw a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes.
"Very mature darling, very mature."
"Learnt from you, darling boy."
Sirius was sure if you called him that one more time he was going to combust. He swallowed the lump of emotions and took a shaky breath, calming himself down.
Merlin, what have you done to him.
"Oh, is that so?" He raised a brow at you, a smirk adorning his face now. There he was. The cocky Sirius Black you knew. And you also knew nothing good came out when his voice changed to that tone.
He slowly set down the kitten from his arms to the ground beside him, who quietly obeyed and sat there without much fuss and meowed at him.
"You want to take it back, love?"
Fuck. Why is that so hot?
"What do you mean, Siri?"
Oh he is dead. But so are you.
And then, hell broke loose. His fingers worked around your ribs, making you giggle uncontrollably. He kept working his fingers around you and then one moment he was sitting beside you, the other, you were splayed over the grass and his body hovering over yours with his hands now splayed along your sides.
As your giggles died, you opened your eyes only to be met with silver ones, staring back at you. Your breath hitched and maybe his did too. The intensity by which his eyes bore into your, taking in all your features at once. His eyes stopped at one point and you knew what was going through his mind.
If you just leaned enough…
You both broke out of trance when a mewl from beside you erupted making you both look at the feline who probably didn't like the lack of attention. It made you both giggle but something changed in the air, and you both knew it.
"I can't believe you are taking her as a pet."
"Well believe it, because I am." You countered back.
A tsk sound from your left and you looked at the bespectacled boy next to you and frowned.
"What?" You asked, irritation evident in your voice.
"You are hurting our dear Sirius." James said, shaking his head in mock disappointment. You raised your brow in question
"You are breaking his heart." Remus joined in.
"You should know better." Peter contributed.
"What is that supposed to mean?" You asked Remus, only acceptable one to give the answer.
"A cat for a dog, really?"
That made all the occupants of the group laugh out loud. Your voices echoing over the great hall, making everyone dining in, give you an odd look.
"Shut it, Lupin." The victim grumbled from your other side.
"Aw, don't be mad Siri, Pumpkin loves you." You cooed, pinching his cheek.
You could feel the heat rise on his cheek but chose to not comment on it.
"Pumpkin? Really? That's the best you could come up with?"
"Well, then you should have suggested me names, when I asked you."
Before the argument could get more heated, Lily butted in and asked a real question.
"How did you get the permission to keep her?"
You shrugged your shoulders and looked at Sirius's side.
"He asked for permission, ask him."
Sirius looked a bit hesitant and then said,
"I…have my ways."
Unbeknownst to you the other three marauders shooted smirks towards him which he countered by a subtle gesture.
"You went through all that, just for a cat."
"Not for a cat, wormtail, for the love of his life." James replied back in a sing-song voice earning a smack on his head by the raven haired boy.
In the secrecy of the dorm now, Sirius told the marauders about how he got the permission to keep the cat.
"You went to Minnie, begged on knees to her, then to Dumbledore and did the same for that cat. Wow, Padfoot you must really love that cat." Remus teased the boy earning a kick on his shin.
Sirius grumbled something under his breath, making all the marauders give him a questioning look. When he noticed, a blush crept up his neck and he repeated his words, much more coherently.
"Not a cat, 's Pumpkin."
A loud laughter echoed from the boys dormitory.
Whilst downstairs, Pumpkin was getting restless and was trying to scratch every object in sight.
"Oh my, what are you doing?" You exclaimed taking her away from the table which had a scratch mark on one of its legs.
You were getting irritated by her behaviour and were about to ask Lily what to do when the feline ran out your arms towards the boys dormitory stairs.
Wide eyed you quickly ran, following her.
In the seventh year boys dormitory, a panicked Peter was looking at James being pinned down by a furious Sirius, sitting next to an amused Remus. All that brawl being started by a simple comment such as
"You are worse than me with Lily." By the pinned down boy.
That was the scene you walked in on. Pumpkin supposedly wanted to see Sirius and somehow knew where to go, leading you to walk in that scene.
"What the hell?" Your surprised words apparently broke them out of trance, making them look at you.
You scooped Pumpkin in your arms, who was still restless, and looked at all of them, James and Sirius now returning to sit on the floor.
"Why was James being pinned down by you, Sirius? Am I missing something?" You asked, looking wide eyed at them.
It was James who spoke, panic evident in his eyes,
"What — no—what are you saying— no, shit, I was just teasing him about his feeling for you—"
Everyone fell silent after that except your kitten. Everyone stared wide-eyed at James, while some had amusement in their eyes (Remus, Peter) some had horror (Sirius, You).
Oh. Oh.
You knew that feelings were mutual. You just wanted confirmation. You knew he would never say anything, you knew because of his past, he was scared, he had told you, had broken in your arms. So you will have to, no matter how much it scares you.
Moving towards where he was sitting, you kneeled in front of him, Pumpkin slipping out your arms towards his lap.
From the corner of your eye, you saw the other leave the room.
He was not looking at you, but his fingers had absent mindedly started running through the kitten's fur.
It was now or never.
Gathering all you courage, you asked,
"Is it—was it true—what James said?" He was still not looking at you, but you could see his shoulder tensing and for a moment you were scared. You were scared that maybe you were wrong. But then he nodded his head. It was barely a movement but it was.
Relief flooded through you and you took a shaky breath. Oh how many times had you dreamed about this moment. Your happiness was unexplainable at that moment. It was much more thrilling to know that he felt the same rather than an instinct.
You lifted your hand, touching his cheek, making him look at you.
"Then, Mr.Black, would you do me an honour of sharing custody of Pumpkin with me? Would you do me an honour of being Pumpkin's father?"
You saw the flicker of emotion in his eyes and the way they lit up at your words. Setting Pumpkin at side, he took your face in his hands and kissed you. And it was nowhere near your imagination, it felt well beyond and you couldn't be more happy.
You both didn't stop until a mewl sounded from beside you, making you both huff out a laugh when the small feline crawled between you two.
You looked up at Sirius who just smile and said,
"I would love to be Pumpkin's father and your lover."
I Swear I Don't Know Who That Man Is
Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader
Genre: fluff/angst
Word Count: 5K
Summary: you got wasted and called peter to pick you up, you also don't realize it's him right away.
Peter Parker hates parties.
But, he loves you. That’s why he’s currently allowing his eardrums to burst apart and have his shoulders constantly being checked from the other bodies surrounding him. It’s giving him the type of overstimulation where he wants to throw everyone to the side and scream at everybody to shut the fuck up. Instead he pushes through the crowd and tries his best to find you as quickly as he could.
“Yo Parker! Is that you?”
Peter wants to roll his eyes, how is Tarrent going to look directly at him, use his name even and then follow it up with asking if it is in fact, who he thought. Peter thinks about ignoring him until Tarrents hand claps him on the shoulder and digs his fingers in as he drags him to the kitchen island.
“Parker’s here, pour 'em up!” Tarrent waves his hand at his friend with the bottle, he shrugs and follows instructions. Peter is busy looking around for you.
“Thought you weren’t the party type, Parker.”
Peter grabs the shot from Dalton, the one with the bottle, who poured them at the request of his frat president.
“I’m not really, I’m on boyfriend duty right now.”
Tarrent rips a nearly empty beer can from his lips, foam spilling out and his fingers slightly dented the can in his hold. “Where’s she at? Should I get D to pour a shot?” Peter’s always been confused by Tarrent, he was kind of a dick. Not the intentional type of dick, but the overall stupid dick. He’s always been a fan of Peters, he never let anyone pick on him and always was his buddy when he was in the room.
Peter eyes the shot in his hand, he doesn’t want to do this.
He doesn’t get drunk, unless he drinks an abnormal amount. Instead he just gets to taste all the burn with none of the fun side effects.
“Not sure, she was supposed to get a ride home with Linzey, but then she called me up here.”
Tarrent nods, “Linzey with the tits? They’re honkin dude, you should see ‘em.”
Peter blinks at him, “Yeah, she has boobs alright.”
Tarrent raises his shot glass, “To tits!”
Peter raises his own shot glass, “To tits!” He tries to forget that you would pinch his arm if you heard him say that. Then taps the glass on the counter twice in unison with his friend before throwing it back.
His nose wrinkles slightly, warm vodka was absolutely terrible.
“So, Parker. Wanna play a round of pong?”
Peter thinks he doesn’t know his first name, he’s never once called him it.
“I would but I’ve never played and I have a girlfriend to find.”
Tarrent claps his hands, “Tell you what, you play a round with me and I’ll send D to get your girl. Sound good?”
Peter thinks about it, he really, really doesn’t want to be here but he’s feeling slightly pressured. Not to mention Tarrent’s done a lot for Peter, he’s pulled a lot of cards for him. He’s helped him get into the library after hours, and he even let Peter use his car for a date.
Peter sighs, “Just one round?”
Tarrent waves Dalton off and raises his fists and shakes them, “This is gonna be so lit dude, something tells me you’re gonna win us this round.”
Peter laughs, “I’ve never played.”
Tarrent punches his shoulder, “Beginners luck, man.”
Peter watches Tarrent push away a kid on the cups, even in the middle of a game they both stopped just because Tarrent wanted to play. “Rerack ‘em, Charlie. Parker’s gonna kick ass.”
Tarrent explains the game to Peter quickly, “You shoot a ball and I do, you wanna get them in the cup. You get it in the cup, they drink it and remove it from the triangle. If we both get one in then we get balls back and can reshoot, if we land it in the same cup then they take an extra cup off. You can’t have your elbow go over the edge of the table, however you can bounce the ball and if it lands they’ll take an extra cup, but they can also swat it off the table. If they land a cup and the ball swirls around the cup you can ‘finger it out’, basically how you do your chick, last rule is a redemption, if we win they get an extra shot. If they miss, they lose, if they hit it, our win is canceled out but the game isn’t over.”
Peter nods slowly, “So I just make it in the cup?”
Tarrent smiles, “Exactly, Parker.”
Charlie finishes the rerack, both sides have ten, red plastic cups lined up in a triangle. He looks up to see his opponents, Tom and Terry, twins in Tarrent’s frat. Tarrent holds out his hands, a fist in one palm, Tom copies his move and they start slamming their fists down. “Rock, paper, scissors. Let’s fuckin go, Parker! Watch me.” Tarrent cheers when he wins the game, picking up the white ball he blows on it for good luck and shoots it, it hits in the middle and bounces around the rim before falling off.
“Fuck! You got this, Parker. Win it for your lady!” Tarrent slaps Peter’s chest, the force knocking him off balance for a second.
Peter can’t think of one thing you’d be less impressed with.
Tarrent is a good guy, dumb and sexist and misogynistic but a good guy. He didn’t realize what he was saying was wrong and usually when Peter gently corrected him he took note immediately and changed his language.
Peter decides he’ll give the win to Tarrent. He can easily win this game, no matter how good his opponents are, they don’t have Spidey skills.
He clears his throat and picks up a ball, he focuses on the first one and shoots. It’s a perfect shot.
Tarrent jumps up and howls, “That’s my fuckin guy! Fuck you Tom! Fuck you Terry!”
The game goes back and forth for a minute, Peter choosing to miss some shots to slow the game a little. Otherwise it would be finished in five minutes. Halfway through the pressure gets to Terry, “You can’t hit this, Parker. Just like your girlfriend, you know you always leave her begging for more.”
Peter blinks and tilts his head, “Is that supposed to be trash talk?” He sails the ball into a cup, Tom slaps his brother's head and chugs the now lukewarm beer. Terry’s words made him think, where were you? Dalton was sent to search almost fifteen minutes ago.
Dalton comes running up panting, “So I’m looking all around for you man and I gotta be honest, I have no fucking clue what she looks like. I tried asking every girl if Parker was their boyfriend but there’s too many.”
Peter looks over to Tarrent, he’s heard his pledge and made pleading eyes at Peter.
“C’mon, man. You can’t bolt now, we’re about to win!”
He’s right. With a sigh Peter unlocks his phone and shows Dalton your picture. He examines and nods, “Be right back!” Then turns to break into a half jog, he stops to turn a girl around, that looks absolutely nothing like you, before shaking his head and running back into the house.
He has very little hope.
They won the game with very little surprise on Peter’s end. He nearly got talked into a second game but he was more desperate to find you so he could get midnight mcdonalds and a cuddle. “You sure you can’t do one more?” Peter winces, “Sorry, dude. I gotta find Y/N, she’s probably pissed by now.” Tarrent nods gulping down a beer, “I know how chicks are, I’ll see you Tuesday, Parker.”
Peter smiled and nods his head, “Good game, man. Glad I could get you that win.”
Tarrent gives him a grin back, he’s a little sloshed for sure. He hooks an arm around Peter’s neck, his beer splashed on his sweater on the shoulder. “You know, I really do consider you a good friend, Parker. You’re a good guy.” Peter taps his arm, “Thanks, man. You too.”
Tarrent shoves him away and slaps his ass, “Go find your chick, I’m sure she’s missing you.”
Peter now realizes why it’s taken Dalton so long to find you, he’s not looking.
He estimates Dalton made it three steps in when he spotted a wasted blonde and was busy chatting her up, he made eye contact with Peter and his eyes widened, “Listen man, I’m sorry, okay? I just saw the prettiest girl in my life and I had to talk with her. Also can you please not tell Tarrent? He’ll knock me back four points and Franklin can’t beat me, I have a thousand bucks I don’t have on pledging.”
Peter watches the girl swing her head back and hit the wall, she giggles and sips her drink. He just points at her and looks at Dalton, “She’s wasted. Get her a water and get her home safely. I promise she’ll call you, do the right thing.” Dalton grins and shows Peter his phone, an Uber already ordered. “Like Tarrent says, rule three of Alpha Beta Delta, W.W.P.D. What would Parker Do?”
“Tarrent has a rule dedicated to me?”
“Dude he has a whole fucking powerpoint on it.”
Peter nods his head impressed, turns out he can make an impact outside of the suit.
He pulls out his phone to check the time and sees two missed calls and seven texts, each one getting progressively sadder when you ask where he was. Peter looks up at Dalton and motions to his phone, he understands and waves him off. Peter’s quick to send you a text.
‘I’m here, where are you?’
You read it, your chat bubble appears, then disappears, and then sends nothing.
Peter doesn’t know if you’re in trouble or just mad he was an hour late to get you and ghosted you.
‘baby please tell me where you are, i want to go home.’
You have the same pattern, then a text appears.
‘So did I. An hour ago.’
Peter groans, no one could ever prepare him for a not only drunk, but a pissed off, drunk girlfriend.
‘:(‘
He tries to think of where you might’ve gone. Peter checks the upstairs bathrooms first, then Tarrents room. When he comes up empty he tries outside, both the front and back. Nothing, he’s worried you might’ve left him as a punishment. When he circled the living room for the third time he was hopeless and texted you with no response, he was about to scream until he saw Lindzey. He nearly bolted to her, “Where’s my girlfriend?”
She narrowed her eyes then smiled when she recognized him, “The basement. She’s pretty gone, she said Jarred was giving her the creeps so I came to get her some water.”
“Where is she now?”
Lindzey looks at him funny, “The basement?”
“You left my girlfriend, your friend, alone in a basement with a guy that was giving her the creeps while she’s inebriated?” Peter decided he would never trust her around you again.
She tried to speak but Peter held up a hand and passed by her, quick to get down the stairs, he didn’t even know there was a basement. He was able to breathe easier when he saw you sitting in a chair in the corner swirling a straw in your cup, your feet tapping to the beat of the song.
You looked drop dead gorgeous.
Peter approached you, you didn’t look up at him. You sucked on your straw and chewed at the end, he smiled down on you.
“Hey, trouble.”
In a swift movement you moved to hit the side of your shoe against his, “Out.” You spoke around your straw and kept staring at a poster on the wall. “Huh?” Peter was confused, did you want him out of the room, or the house?
You sighed and kicked again, “I said out!”
Peter couldn’t help but laugh, you were trashed. “Out of where, baby?”
You ripped the straw from your mouth, the ice danced in the cup, at last you snapped your head to look at his face “Listen here, prick.” Your voice was venom, Peter’s eyes widened, he looked around for a second and shuffled closer. In turn you threw yourself back in your chair, “Out means out. Out of my way, out of my space, out of my fucking life.”
You’ve never been this harsh before, he didn’t realize you were this pissed.
He sighs, “Trouble, I’m sorry I-”
You cut him off quickly, “Don’t call me that, ever. My boyfriend calls me that, that’s his word for me. Not yours.”
He can’t help but grin in relief, you didn’t know it was him.
“I don’t see a boyfriend.”
You scoff, “Yeah well if you don’t see a bear shit in the woods doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen. He’s on his way, he’s picking me up.”
“How about I take you home sweetheart?”
As serious as you could muster at the moment. You looked dead in his eyes and threatened him, “My boyfriend is gonna beat the absolute shit out of you.” Peter raised his eyebrows, “Oh is he now?” You nod fiercely, “If I ask, he’s so whipped for me he would do anything I want.”
Peter’s offended. He knows it’s true, but damn.
“He’s whipped but left you here alone?”
You nearly clawed his eyes out, “I have no fucking idea why you’re acting like you know anything about him. He’s my boyfriend and he’s picking me up, and I promise you don’t want to be here when he does.”
Peter feels a sense of pride that you’re dropping his name, he made you feel so safe and comfortable that you knew he would drop kick anyone you deemed deserving.
“Okay, sweetheart. Want me to bring you to your boyfriend?”
You scoff and sip your drink, “I don’t think he would want me to leave my spot.”
He wants to give you an atta girl, he’s trained you well enough that when you’re drinking and waiting on him you hunker down until he finds you. He will be looking forever if you’re constantly moving around.
“What if I told you I was told to come get you?”
You look him over with shifty eyes, you don’t trust this man.
“What’s his name then?”
He ignores your question and reaches for the cup you're drinking from, he thinks it’s time you stop. You slap his hand, hard, “Don’t, ever, touch something I’m drinking, okay? Mommy never taught you to keep your hands to yourself, huh?”
Peter rubs at his red hand, “I-“
You dryly laugh in his face, “How fucking entitled to you think you are? I mean really, not to mention you have no fucking clue how to read a room. I’m not interested, you dolt, I have a boyfriend that is gonna come grab me at any second.”
Peter squats so he’s more eye level. He notices the issue, you couldn’t see him. He was backed against the wall and it was shadowed, the second he bent down the window lit up his face.
“Hey, trouble. I am your boyfriend, wanna get home?”
Your eyes lit up with recognition, the moment you saw who you were berating your lower lip trembles. Fat tears pooling in your eyes had Peter panicking, did you still not understand who he was? Has he scared you?
“You’re okay, baby. It’s just me.” He smiles to be non threatening, it doesn’t work. You blink and tears fall, Peter frowns and reaches forward to cup your face, you shrink back further into the seat. The drink clutched to your chest spilled out over your shirt, you ignored it and looked at Peter, shaking your bottom lip at him to hold off sobs.
Peter starts to look around, before placing a palm on your chest trying to sop up the extra liquid into his sweater. You shove his hand back quickly, then raise your knees to hide your chest, wrapping your hands around your legs and cry into your knees.
He’s at a loss for words, he really doesn’t know what’s going on. Are you truly lost and think he’s taking advantage of you? It seemed like you recognized him the second you saw his face. He puts his hand on a knee, you move your leg so his hand falls off, he’s lost.
Peter thinks he needs to find Lindzey, he doesn’t like the idea of leaving you here alone upset, but he can’t seem to figure you out. If you can see your friend and have her willingly say that you are safe and this is your boyfriend then everything should be fine, right?
You have your face hidden from him, he had taken your cup away when it landed all over your front. Peter rests the plastic on the ground, the remnants of ice click. With a sigh he stands, he turns to look up the stairs hoping Lindzey would be coming down any second, if he has a guess though, she’s in Tarrents room watching the ceiling fan.
Peter takes one step and you grab his wrist tightly.
“You’re not leaving me right?”
“Hey!” He gives you a warm smile, like the kind of greeting you get from coming out of your room after a few hours. “What’s got you crying?”
You repeat your words, “You’re not leaving me, right?” You emphasize the right, because you don’t think Peter would do that but you’re not too sure the way you’ve been talking to him.
“I was gonna find Lindzey, are you-“
You jump up instantly using the hand you have on Peter for stability. You’re so close to Peter you almost step on his toes, he’s quick to back up. You take in his movements and start to cry, you shake your head quickly.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, please don’t leave me. I’m sorry, I’ll never do it again, I promise. Don’t break up with me, don’t leave me.”
Peter’s face scrunches in confusion, you take it as rejection. You cry harder, you sob so hard people are starting to turn and look. “Hey, c’mere.” He wraps an arm around your shoulder to pull you out of the basement but you stick your feet to the ground and shake your head violently. “No! Don’t do this, Peter. I’m sorry! Please don’t!”
He really wants to get you the fuck out of here. It’s dark, cold, loud and crowded. You’re also a nervous wreck that’s not only sobbing but also screaming at him stuck to his side but refusing him to touch you back. You’re also making it sound like he’s about to take you out back and teach you a lesson, he’s trying to think of the nicest way possible to get you to shut the fuck up.
You sniffle and take a deep inhale, then pout at Peter who takes your silence as an opportunity and leans in to talk directly in your ear.
“Calm down, Y/N. Follow me, understand?”
You nod but when he tries to move you stay attached to the ground again, “I said I was sorry, I didn’t mean to, I promise.”
Peter can’t think of a time you’ve been more hammered.
He needs to get you out of here, he tries one last time before he’d be forced to throw you over his shoulder. Peter leans to talk into your ear once more, not mean but stern. “I’m not mad, but I will be if you don’t follow me.” You wipe away any extra tears that had fallen before nodding slowly, you’re trying to not make him mad. He doesn’t know why you think he’s so upset at you.
Peter tries to grab your hand but you cross your arms and sniffle as you follow him up the stairs, he keeps turning every few seconds to make sure you’re still with him. He knows the second he’s able to get you away from the house you’d be able to explain why you were so upset. He’s just so tired and is more than ready to get home so he could sleep next to you, and he’s been so patient with you so far.
It’s rare you make him aggravated. So when you bolt from behind him to hide behind Tarrent he has to take a few deep breaths before he follows you. He doesn’t know why you’re scared of him, he doesn’t know why you were crying, he doesn’t know why you want to hide behind Tarrent. He does know he wants to get the fuck out of here. Peter takes a second for his annoyance to leave, he’s half tempted to pull your arm like a toddler out the door. Kicking and screaming and all.
When Peter finally walks over he’s blocked by Tarrent’s hand.
“What’s going on, Parker?” His tone is accusatory, his side chosen with the teary eyed sniffling girl.
Peter sighs, “Honestly, no fucking clue.” When he looked over at you, you immediately threw your head down to look at your shoes. He leaned in a little closer to Tarrent to speak softly, trying not to set you off again, “I tried to get her to leave but she started crying and freaking out.”
“She doesn’t want to leave with you.”
Peter blinked. Tarrent was supposed to be his friend, why was he taking your side out of nowhere.
“She had me spooked too. I promise everything is okay.” He smiled and went to move around Tarrent to grab his girlfriend, this time Tarrent was more aggressive. “She said she doesn’t want to leave with you, Parker. I won’t make a lady do anything they don’t want.”
Peter is so ready to say fuck it to everything.
He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Okay, great. Are you going to be getting my girlfriend home safely or will one of your pledges that can barely tie their own shoes be instructed to do so?” Tarrent’s face hardens, “Why don’t you go take a walk, Parker?”
He throws his hands in the air, “Awesome.” He points to Tarrent, “You can take care of it from here.” Then Peter stands near you, you still haven’t said a word or moved an inch. “Have a goodnight, Y/N. I’ll talk to you whenever.”
Finally you speak, it’s a worried tone.
“You’re leaving?”
Peter can’t help himself, he gives a laugh, like he’s the crazy one. Exasperated, he looks at you, “Yeah, baby, I am.” You look him up and down, “Why?” He takes a second to look around the room, he’s expecting cameras to come out.
He doesn’t want to fight but his tone said otherwise.
“Because, Y/N. You called me here to pick you up, then you were mad I was late. Then you wouldn’t tell me where you were because you thought a game of hide and seek would be cute, then when I found you, you started crying and screaming at me. Now you’re hiding behind my friend and he’s telling me you want me to leave. You want me to leave but you want me to stay, which is it?”
Tarrent looks like he’s ready to break up the fight at any second.
You go back to blinking at your shoes, he nods his head with a mumbled ‘fucking awesome’ and started to walk away. Your quivered voice made him stop, you were panicked and upset. He didn’t get why until now.
“So you’re breaking up with me?”
Tarrent looks at him like ‘well, are you?’
Peter can’t stop himself, the confusion spills out.
“Huh?”
“You’re breaking up with me?”
When he walks closer Tarrent spreads out slowly, he’s trying to let Peter have a chance to talk to you.
“Baby, why would I break up with you?”
You look at him and he sees how sad you look, you can’t help the bubbling cry that pulls through.
“Because I was mean to you.”
Oh.
Oh.
You thought he was mad because of what you said to him in the basement. You thought you had fucked it up by hitting and berating him. You thought he was trying to get you out of the house so he could swiftly dump your ass and leave with a nicer, prettier girl.
“Oh shit.” He breathes out the words and in an instant Tarrent knows this isn’t as accurate as you claimed it was, even if you were plastered he was ready to have your side first. And not that he even really knows you, but he considers Parker a good friend and if there was a chance he was about to fuck up and end it with you he had to middleman it. Tarrent knows Parker deserves you.
He slowly pushed himself away until he was no longer in between you two. Peter appreciated the space and pushed his toes into yours, he was going nowhere.
“I’m not mad about that! You didn’t know it was me!”
Peter is so happy this was about nothing.
You won’t hear it, you’re drunk and extremely apologetic.
You hiccup, “No, cause I was so fucking mean to you, Petey. I should’ve never said that, I was so so mean. I wasn’t being a good girlfriend.”
He wants to laugh but he thinks it would upset you more.
“Baby, really. It’s okay, you didn’t know it was me. I’m not mad at all, I promise.”
You shake your head, “I was so mean to you though. I called you like, so many bad names.” You gasp when you remember what else you had done, you grab his hand to look at it. Peter tries to pull it away before it causes you to spiral more but you somehow have an iron grip on his wrist.
“And I hit you! Oh my god, Petey. I am so sorry, I didn’t mean it I swear.”
Peter places his free hand against your cheek, “I know you didn’t.” You place a soft kiss to the red mark, he knows you feel insanely guilty.
‘Hey,” He taps your cheek with a finger to get you to look at him. “You trust me, right?” You nod. “Good, now believe me when I say I’m not mad. You stuck up for yourself, trouble. You didn’t see it was me and I realized that, okay?”
You sniffle. “So you’re not mad at me?”
He laughs, “No, trouble. I’m not mad at you.”
You look at his hand and frown, you kiss it again. “And you won’t break up with me?”
Peter smiles sadly, “Don’t think you can get rid of me that easy, sorry.”
“Kiss?”
He looks at you, then the room, “Here?”
“If you’re not breaking up with me then prove it.”
Peter wants to tell you he could kiss you then dump you but you wouldn’t get that he was joking and it would collapse everything.
He follows your wish and pulls you in, he’s not much for outstanding PDA but he thinks you deserve a little more than a peck tonight. You did just gaslight yourself into thinking he was breaking up with you.
Peter pulled back and watched you grumpily blink your eyes open.
“Why stop?”
“Are you asking for another?”
You nod quickly and look over his shoulder, “Now! Before Casey Shauna sees you and tries to come over.” Before he can say a word you fly up to meet his mouth, it was sloppy and you basically headbutted him with your mouth so his teeth hurt. He gently pushes you away and rubs his upper lip.
Your eyes widened, “Oh no, I did it again. I hurt you, right?”
Peter was not about to fall back into this rabbit hole, not when he just found his way out of it.
“Not at all, trouble. Had some lip gloss, that’s all.”
You pout and shake your head solemnly, “I’m not wearing lip gloss.”
“How bout this, I get you home and I’ll give you all the kisses you want. How’s that sound?”
Like a puppy you’ve forgotten why you were upset, excited you hold on tight to his arm as he guides you through the crowded room until you reach the front door. You ask him how firm he is on the kisses offer, he gives you three the second you exit the house.
“I also want sex.”
Peter laughs, “That’s funny, cause I want a mcchicken.”
You ‘oo’ at him and slap his arm in excited agreement. “I want one too, but with cheese. And maybe some fries. Oh, Peter! I want a super large coke too, they have the best coke!”
By the time you’ve hit up Mcdonald’s and had Peter’s wallet buy you whatever you wanted, (even when you asked him for another mcchicken and a refill,) you were too tired to do anything but pass out on the couch.
Peter humphs at you while he watches you snore with the TV playing in the background.
“The sex to Mcdonalds pipeline never fails.”
Forbidden Words
Here we go!!!!
We are officially back! I’m very excited for this new beginning, I hope you all enjoy this silly little fic of mine!
We have some hurt/comfort, lots of fluff and cuteness too! You know me, I always write cute things.
I hope you enjoy this fic, and I have to admit that I am quite nervous about posting fics again, so I’d really appreciate it if you could leave a little feedback… please? I hope I’m not too… rusty.
Anyways, enjoy!
****
Sum up : You've been dating Sirius for a while now, and it's been going wonderfully well. However, when you finally confess that you love him, he find himself unable to say it back. It will take time for him to be ready to say these three forbidden words out loud, but if there's someone who can make him overcome his inner demons, it's you.
Pairing : Sirius Black x reader
No warnings, hurt/comfort, fluff
Word count : 5800 words
Sometimes it felt a little strange. A little uncommon. A little worrying even.
There was something about unexpected events that always got under your skin, always made you uncomfortable. Even happy accidents could shake a world, and they generally did.
It felt a little strange sometimes, when you looked up to find Sirius sitting on the other side of the table. A little uncommon to find him holding your hand in corridors. A little worrying, even, to see him smile when you knew he was sad. You had learned after a long friendship to see the signs. Detect the small anomaly in his grey eyes, the ghost of a frown he tried to hide. If you could see the signs as a friend, you acted on it now that the two of you were more than that.
It was a happy accident that brought the two of you together. A note sent by a Ravenclaw to another girl that had landed on your desk by accident, and jealousy had done the rest.
But maybe it wasn't just an accident, after all, that pushed Sirius to confess that he liked you, that convinced him to ask you out. Maybe it was simply the last piece of a puzzle fitting with the rest of this long list of signs that should have shaken some sense into him. But whether or not Sirius's decision to ask you out was the result of an accident, it had shaken your world all the same.
A real earthquake that rearranged all the pieces of your life for the better.
And after a few months of relationship, you still had moments when you forgot you were together. Sometimes the brush of his fingers as you walked down a corridor still surprised you. The sight of him sleeping in your arms, the way he called you 'darling' with the softest voice, the way he kissed you out of the blue. As if you needed to be reminded that all this was not a mere dream. Maybe it was because it was all so familiar. Laughing, and talking for hours, and holding him close… it was natural. It felt right. Like you belonged there, with him.
And the more you thought about it, the more you reckoned that this was the true definition of the word everyone talks about but none can truly define. And you understood why. It was a feeling alright, but a feeling that got so entwined with a person, the two became synonyms. It was love. Love was the way Sirius made you feel, and Sirius was love.
You weren't even scared. You were just happy. You were happy it was him, even if the choice would have been unbelievable for a younger version of yourself. One of the famous pranksters? And the one who seemed almost grim, unreachable, with something about him as dark as his name… him?
As you stared at your boyfriend who was laughing at one of Lily's stupid jokes, you wondered why it took you so long to see the real Sirius behind all the rumours that ran across the Castle about him. But then, it wasn't so surprising. Sirius curated his friendships with great care and caution. He had to let you in first for you to discover him. And you were unbelievably glad he had once done so.
You realized then that despite the few months of your relationship passing in a dreamy bliss, none of you had ever said the three little words. You wondered why. Perhaps a part of you was waiting for him to say it first; the part of yourself that lacked confidence. It would explain why you had never spoken those words, even though you had been meaning them for weeks, months even. If you were to be honest about it, you were already in love when the two of you started dating.
And at the beginning you did doubt his feelings a lot. It was easier that way. If things had to go sour, it would be less painful if you expected a disaster in the first place. But by some strange kind of miracle, everything was fine. Outside of Hogwarts, the world was being turned upside-down, but your own little life was kept safe for a while longer. And Sirius was among the brightest suns to lighten the darkening sky.
So why not say it then?
You were aware of his tendency to bottle up all his emotions. The more you thought about it, the more you reckoned that he would not take this first step, even if he felt the same. And judging by the way he made you feel loved and cared for, you had no doubt that your feelings were mutual.
You reckoned it was time to take that jump.
You finished your lunch, laughing with your friends. James was being his ridiculous self, as usual, while Lily tried her best not to laugh too loudly at his antics, failing miserably. Remus and Peter were caught in a heated argument with Dorcas and Marlene about the best Honeydukes sweets, which ended in a ridiculously dramatic exit of the two girls. It was fun and warm and safe here. And all along Sirius's bark-like laugh made your moments even brighter.
After lunch, he accompanied you to your common room before heading to the Quidditch Pitch. The match opposing your two teams was coming up, it was an easy excuse for both of you to tease the other playfully.
"I can't believe you are cruel enough to support the Hufflepuff team when your own boyfriend is playing against them! Your boyfriend!"
"I'm a Hufflepuff. There is no such thing as friendships or love affairs when it comes to Quidditch."
"I feel betrayed."
"Drama queen."
He laughed at that, and you soon joined him. You couldn't help it. His laughter was too contagious.
"And now you insult me!"
"Only stating facts."
"So… does that mean you won't be happy if I win the game? Not even a little bit?"
You easily caved in as he offered you his most mischievous glance.
"Maybe a little bit…"
"Ha! See! Knew it. A traitor to your own house!"
Your joined laughter echoed through the corridors as you reached the door of the Hufflepuff common room.
"Practice well. Cause if you lose, I will tease you about it mercilessly for months," you warned him, and even though your tone was still humorous, he knew you were not truly joking.
"Better work extra hard then, ‘cause we can't have that."
He leaned down to kiss you, and you welcomed his lips halfway.
"I'll see you after dinner?"
"Your common room?"
He nodded, a grin on his face as he was about to turn around and leave.
But you held him back, crashing your lips together for another kiss. Because you were alone in this corridor and so you reckoned that this moment was as good as any to finally say it.
You gathered every last ounce of your courage while you held him tight, tucking your head in the crook of his neck. He chuckled, the vibrations of his laugh echoing in your whole body.
"Someone's extra needy today, huh?" he teased, although he held you with the same tender embrace.
You took a deep breath and dived. But your voice could only come out as a whisper.
"That's because I love you."
You waited for his answer. You waited. But only silence came.
At last, he dropped a kiss on the top of your head, and you thought he would say it back. But when he spoke again it was as if he hadn't heard you at all.
"Have to go to practice. I'll see you tonight."
And with that he strode away, and disappeared.
Sirius was pacing. He was holding a quaffle in his hands, making it twirl or holding it too tightly. He was pacing, back and forth across the boys’ dormitory while Remus, Peter and James looked at him with worried looks painted on their faces.
They knew what this was about. They knew the reason for his pacing, for the way he held the quaffle as if he wanted to crush it between his palms, for the tears that threatened to escape and for his ragged breathing.
He had told them about your confession. He had told them that he didn’t say a word.
And he was an idiot. A bloody idiot that was what he was. But he couldn’t help it, couldn’t fight it, couldn’t do anything at all about it. The mere thought of speaking out loud these three words made his throat tighten, his heart speed up enough to come close to exploding.
Oh, he could think about the words. He loved you. That was easy enough to admit to himself, but say it out loud? That was a whole other story.
And his friends knew perfectly why Sirius couldn’t speak, why he was on the verge of crying at the mere thought of it. The answer was obvious. But would you understand? You didn’t know him the way his friends did…
“I’m an idiot,” Sirius repeated for the hundredth time. “I’m… I don’t even know what I am at this point? But there’s no way I can say it back… I can’t do it!”
“Pads, you need to calm down,” James instructed his friend as he stood up to force Sirius to sit down on his bed.
“Calm down? How am I supposed to calm down? I’m fucking it all up! I finally have a great relationship, it’s all going brilliantly… It’s more than brilliant even! Bloody perfect! And then…”
He threw the quaffle against the wall in frustration.
He looked at the ball rolling on the ground for a moment, until it came to a stop. He heaved a sigh then, and buried his face in his hands.
“They really are going to just… ruin every single good thing in my life. Even when I finally think that I’m out of this mess…”
“Hey, don’t say that,” James rested a hand on his brother’s shoulder.
Remus and Peter walked to their friends to sit by their side on Sirius’s bed.
“You’re free now, Padfoot,” James reassured him. “You ran away from this hellish place. You have nothing left to do with them. It’s over. You have your own family now.”
“You have us,” Peter agreed.
“And you have Y/N. You should just… tell her about this,” Remus advised.
“Easier said than done,” Sirius mumbled, finally letting his hand fall to reveal his face again.
He was paler than usual, but there were no tears, or any sign of panic on his face.
“She loves you. She told you so! You should explain it all to her, I’m sure she would understand,” Peter encouraged his friend.
“How?”
“She knows already that your family sucks. Bastards, all of them,” spat James.
“She knows some of it, not all of it,” Sirius corrected him. “She knows I ran away because of the way they treated me, she knows I live with you now. But she doesn’t know what happened. She doesn’t know why I can’t say it back.”
“Then explain it to her. She’s sweet. And as Wormtail just said, she loves you. She’ll get it. As long as you explain it to her, show her that you care… she’ll understand.”
But Sirius was not convinced.
“I’m not sure I can explain it either. I haven’t talked about it in a while.”
Silence settled upon the room. Three friends looking for a way out, a defeated boy struggling against his old demons - the ones he had thought banished for good – sitting between them.
“What if you write it down?”
Sirius looked up at Remus, frowning but not rejecting the idea just yet.
“I don’t think I can write… it down either,” Sirius finally argued.
“But the reason why you can’t express it at all? Do you think you could answer that question on paper?”
Sirius contemplated the offer for a moment, before shrugging.
“I can try.”
“Maybe he simply didn’t hear me.”
Dorcas and Marlene exchanged an unconvinced glance, but didn’t dare to argue. They didn’t want to break your heart. And besides, they didn’t really understand either why Sirius had not said these three little words back. It was obvious that he was head over heels for you, no mystery there. So… why not say it back? If you had taken the first step, why not say that he felt the same, when he clearly did?
“Maybe I should try again.”
“Maybe he wasn’t ready?” Dorcas offered an explanation with all the caution she could muster. She didn’t want to make you suffer even more than you already did.
“You think so?” you asked with a shaky voice.
“Well… you know how Sirius can be sometimes,” Marlene added. “He does have a tendency to… bottle it all up. You know?”
“Yeah… that’s true.”
“His parents fucked up with his head. I think that… since then… he has a lot of trouble talking about his feelings.”
“But I thought he loved me…”
“Oh, he does,” Dorcas reassured you, and she couldn’t stop herself from rolling her eyes. “He’s crazy about you.”
“Then why not say it? I don’t get it. He just… walked away.”
“That… was a mistake.”
“It was.”
“But there’s no need to be dramatic about this, you should simply talk about it with him.”
“You’re right,” you agreed, your voice firmer than before as you finally sat up on your bed and traded your sad eyes for an expression filled with determination. “I’m going to go see him. I’ll say I love him again, and this time, there will be no chance for him not to hear me. And if he doesn’t say anything again, I’ll ask him why.”
“That… was not exactly the plan we had come up with…”
“And I won’t cry!”
“That part is great! Keep that part of the plan! For the rest…”
“I’ll do it now!”
You stood up before your friends could stop you.
“Don’t you think you should wait for Lily to be back from her prefect meeting? I mean… she’s kind of the wise one in the group,” Dorcas argued, but you weren’t listening anymore.
No, instead, you were striding across your common room, and you opened the door wide to step in the corridor.
You were determined. A strong, independent and determined young woman. You could do it.
But you had barely reached the corner of the corridor that led to the magical staircase that you bumped right into Sirius…
“Ouch…” you mumbled, suddenly trapped in Sirius embrace.
“You’re okay?” he asked with a hint of worry in his voice.
“Yeah. You?”
“I play beater, remember?”
“You’ve got a point.”
You couldn’t refrain a smile, even if you were upset, and neither could he. You remained like this for a moment, standing still in the corridor while you stared at each other. A long moment passed, filled with silence and the way Sirius made butterflies gather in your stomach. He did so every time he was close, every time he stared at you like this… every time…
“I love you.”
You spoke them out loud again. The three words. Three marvellous, meaningful, forbidden words…
Sirius didn’t say anything, he merely closed his eyes with a pained expression painted all over his features.
You were ready to cry.
“So… you did hear me, earlier. The first time I said it, you did hear me.”
Slowly, in silence, Sirius nodded.
“You just don’t feel the same…”
He opened his eyes again, frowning hard.
“No… that’s not that at all.”
“But you’re not saying it back.”
“I know.”
“Because you’re not ready?”
He shook his head, clenching his jaw.
“It’s more complicated than that.”
“You want to break up with me?”
“What?!” he looked at you as if you had gone mad all of a sudden, and there was also a hint of fear in his grey eyes. “Of course I don’t want to break up with you, are you crazy?”
“I don’t get it then…”
He finally let go of you, reached for something in the back pocket of his trousers.
He handed you a folded piece of parchment, and you frowned at him. But you took the note anyway. Looking at it more closely, you noticed that it was a letter.
“I… I really struggle with… these things,” Sirius tried to explain everything, but the words stumbled from his mouth and came out all wrong and distorted and clumsily spoken. “So… thought I… could try to explain by writing it down. It was Moony’s idea, actually. Not sure it worked that well. But I… did my best, I guess…”
You made a movement to open the letter, but he stopped you before you could unfold the parchment.
“Wait, don’t… not… not while I’m here. You… you can read it on your own, I don’t want to see you read it. I’ll be in the Gryffindor common room. I’ll wait for you. You… you read this, and you take some time to think. I’ll wait. All night long, if you need it.”
Before you could protest, he had turned around and was disappearing again.
You spent a long time on your own. You had hidden yourself in your favourite spot, a small gap between a statue and the wall of an alcove on the third floor. You could be alone there, no one could see you from the corridor. Only Sirius knew about that hiding spot, and you didn’t want to be disturbed. You needed to think. You needed some time to assimilate all the information Sirius had entrusted in you.
He didn’t go into details. You reckoned he never would. You had understood a long time ago that his parents had done terrible things to him. That his life at Grimmauld Place was hell. But he had revealed, through this letter, a few glimpses into his childhood, and you didn’t know what to do with it all. What to do with the knowledge of so much undeserved pain?
It explained why he didn’t speak out the words you longed to hear though. Why these three little words were banished from his mouth, if not from his heart. Why he couldn’t gather the strength to explain it all in person. You understood, or well… you didn’t understand what he had been through, but you could fathom why he carried the struggles and pain he kept carefully hidden.
No details in this letter of his, mere fragments in an attempt to explain it all, to make you understand, even if just a little bit. He was scared to lose you. The feeling oozed from every line traced in dark ink, appeared behind every word.
The final explanation was enough to sum it all up.
They never said these words to me, and I’ve never told them to anyone either. Worst, they changed the meaning of these words I longed to hear to make them feel like pain.
I can’t say it. I can’t write it down. It needs to fully change back into its original meaning first. But I do care. I do want to be with you. I just… can’t express it right.
You brushed a tear before it would escape your eye as you read the last words of his letter one more time.
Forgive me.
You shook your head, before standing up, and finally walking down the corridor towards the Gryffindor tower.
What a silly boy he was, sometimes…
Sirius had remained awake most of the night. He thought at first that he wouldn’t be able to sleep at all, but then exhaustion caught up with him. He did go to Quidditch practice for over two hours after all. That, and the emotional tiredness that day had brought him… it weighed too much on him to stay up all night. He fell in Morpheus’ arms around midnight, without noticing.
When you walked in the room, he was there. None of you had gone to eat dinner in the Great Hall, you could see the half-full plate the boys must have brought up for Sirius while he waited for you. You felt bad for taking so much time to think.
He seemed peaceful when he slept. Long dark hair a mess, half-hiding his face. Breathing soft, gentle, steady. Eyelashes drawing two dark lines above sharp cheekbones.
You loved him. It was enough.
You picked up a blanket from one of the armchairs along with a cushion. You lifted his head with caution, trying not to wake him up as you put the cushion under him to get him more comfortable. You covered him with the blanket to keep him warm. You didn’t have the heart to wake him up.
You brushed away from his eyes a few strands of hair, gesture tender and gentle, before dropping a kiss to his cheek and turning to leave.
You were stopped before you could take a step towards the door, fingers wrapping around yours.
When you turned back towards Sirius, he was rubbing his eyes, trying to chase away the remnants of sleep that lingered there.
“Don’t go,” he mumbled, his voice made rough and deep by sleep. “Have you read the letter?”
“Yes, I did.”
He sat up, moving so you could sit by his side on the couch.
“Are you mad?” he asked, his voice shaky.
But you rested your head on his shoulder, and he felt reassured all of a sudden.
“Of course not. I’m not mad at all. I mean… not at you. I think I could commit a murder though. Several, actually.”
He chuckled, wrapping his arm around you to pull you close, and you melted in his embrace.
“That’s… kind of hot. Not gonna lie.”
It was your time to laugh.
“I thought you would be mad,” he admitted after a short silence.
“Of course not. It’s okay. Nothing to forgive. I understand. I’ll wait. All the time you need. And if you never feel ready, that’s okay too. I know I’m not the problem, it’s them.”
“I feel like… like I’m failing you.”
“Of course not. Don’t feel like that, okay?”
“You should be able to hear it…”
“It’s okay. Now that I know, I don’t mind at all. I promise.”
He leaned down to kiss you, and you welcomed his lips with relief. Things were back to normal again.
“Can I ask you one more question?”
Sirius gave you a warm smile, and merely nodded as an answer. He brushed his knuckles across your cheek in a tender gesture.
“You said that… they have never told you they loved you… is it true?”
“I mean… They don’t. Love me. Why would they lie?”
“Right…”
“It’s okay. I’m glad you’re the first to speak these words to me.”
“I’m the first? Ever?”
“To really mean it? Yeah… you’re the first.”
“But James…”
“The boys are my family, but we don’t confess our undying love towards each other on a daily basis, and certainly not so… plainly.”
You played with the collar of his white shirt. His tie was long gone, his sleeves rolled up along his forearms, the first few buttons of his shirt undone.
“Do you mind if I say it again, every once in a while?” you asked after some time.
“I won’t be able to say it back. Not for now.”
“I get it. That’s okay.”
“Then… if you don’t mind that I can’t say it back… Of course, I don’t mind. It’s a nice thing to hear. The best thing, actually.”
The two of you exchanged a smile, and you lost your gaze to the flames dancing in the hearth before you while Sirius dropped a kiss to your forehead.
Yes, things were back to normal.
And you loved him. It was enough.
A few more months passed; it was the beginning of Spring. Or rather, the end of Winter.
Snow had melted, the grass was green and muddied by the heavy rains. Skies grey and trees covered in boughs. It was the beginning of a new cycle filled with life. Soon, it would be warm enough to spend afternoons on the grounds, help Hagrid with his garden, wonder through the woods where it was forbidden to go.
But for now, the sky was grey still, a rainy afternoon during which the droplets fell with a rhythmic pattern against the windowpanes. You studied hard with your friends, even though Sirius and James were less and less focused as the afternoon passed by.
It was that afternoon that something finally clicked in your brain, and you realized what had been right before you for a long, long time.
You had to refill your bottle of ink, but were too lazy to get up and walk all the way across the Gryffindor common room to get your bag. You were too comfortable sitting there, legs crossed on the warm carpet before the fire, your back resting against Sirius’s arm.
You turned your head to check how much ink was left in your bottle, but frowned at the sight.
The bottle was full.
You looked around, spotted an empty bottle next to Sirius’s bag. He had replaced your bottle with one of his own. You smiled at the sight, ready to discard the act as a cute attention from your boyfriend when you realized that Sirius had not said a word about it.
He had replaced the bottle in silence, as if he expected you wouldn’t notice. And the more you thought about it, the more you could think of many occurrences of these sweet attentions. Little acts of care and kindness he performed without having you asking for it, without bringing it up, almost hoping you wouldn’t notice it at all.
Like… the way he always carried the heavy piles of books you burrowed on a weekly basis to the library. The way he brought you your favourite cookie every Wednesday after your arithmancy class because you had a long afternoon that day and he knew you were craving for sugar after so many classes. The way he picked up your scarf and folded it back into your bag whenever you forgot it, which happened very often. The way he handed you one of his hairbands when you were nervous and started fidgeting. The way he gave you extra chips at lunch because he knew how much you loved these. The way he…
… the way he loved you.
As you stared at this ordinary bottle of ink, all the pieces suddenly started to fit together.
He loved you. Truly. He couldn’t say it, but he showed it instead. He had always done so, for months. You should have understood it before…
When the bottle of ink was empty, Sirius almost threw it away, but you stopped him, filling it again instead with some new ink. Your boyfriend raised a surprised eyebrow.
“If you want to reuse the same bottle each time from now on, you need to buy a proper one at least…”
“No, I keep this one.”
“It’s… just a bottle. Why would you keep this one?”
“Because you gave it to me.”
He chuckled mockingly, shaking his head.
“You’re mad.”
But as he turned around, faking to look for something in his bag, you did notice the tip of his ears turning red…
You were both drunk, but Sirius was drunk. You… you had just overcome the stage of tipsiness, but were not full-blown drunk yet. Sirius was though.
Nothing surprising. The last match of the season was over. Gryffindor 190 – Slytherin 60. A celebration was in order, and the Marauders were not ones to fail their reputation, especially when it came to celebrating winning the Quidditch cup.
It had been a fun evening, but it was time to call it a night. At least, it was for you. Many of your friends were still celebrating in the common room, but you pulled Sirius up to his feet and helped him up the stairs to his dormitory despite his protests.
“You’re very drunk, that’s enough,” you admonished.
He tried to argue, but you pushed him down on his bed. He groaned, making you laugh.
“You’re evil.”
“You’re drunk.”
“Very much so, I’ll admit…”
Alcohol made his words slow and slurred. His voice was deeper too, which made you blush uncontrollably. Luckily, Sirius was too drunk to notice your reaction and tease you about it.
“Come on, you need a good night of sleep,” you admonished. “I’ll see you tomorrow, if you’re sober enough to get up on your own again by then.”
But he stopped you as you walked towards the door.
“No! Stay! I’m not even sleepy.”
“You can’t even keep your eyes properly opened.”
“I can! I don’t want you to go. Stay. Stay for the night.”
“Babe… that’s against the rules.”
“Who caaaaaares?” he whined, and you could hear in his voice that he was rolling his eyes.
“You’re drunk. Nothing is going to happen tonight.”
“I mean… I wanted cuddles, but if you want more… I’m all for it.”
You laughed, but complied anyway. You always caved in, after all.
“Alright, just cuddles. Move over.”
He grinned up at you and soon you were lying with him, holding him close. He soon closed his eyes.
When he spoke, his voice was a mere whisper, already half drowned in sleep and slowed down by the liquor.
“You know… I can’t say it but… I do feel like that. I feel the same. I feel like that for you. Like… a lot. An awful lot.”
You didn’t need any more explanation to know perfectly well what Sirius meant, what he was talking about. You smiled the brightest of smiles.
“I love you too, Sirius.”
But he had already drifted to sleep…
It was your last evening at Hogwarts.
The NEWTs were over, the year had gone by too quickly. It was the beginning of Summer. Or rather, the end of Spring.
Clouds had lifted, the grass was green and dry and soft, just the way you loved it. Flowers grew over slopes and bushes and trees had found back their glorious shades of green.
It was a happy season, with sunlight and laughter. But it was coming to an end.
You would not be back at Hogwarts. It was your last day. And you felt sad about it. The next day, you would carry your suitcase for the last time to the train station, and take the Hogwarts Express never to come back home.
But rather than to spend your last day being depressed, your friends had planned a series of festivities and games to make sure that your last memories in the Castle would be worth remembering. And they succeeded. None of you would ever forget this day. Pranks rained over the Castle, last gifts from the infamous Marauders. Parties, and games all afternoon. So much laughter, enough to fill up entire rooms.
It had been magical, and you were thankful to have encountered such a happy mess of people during your stay in this school.
Outside, the world was dangerous and uncertain and dark. But you had been granted one last day under the sun, and you reckoned that it was enough for now. It would be enough to get by for a while; for as long as you needed to endure to see the sun shine brightly again.
Dinner was over, and you were taking a walk with Sirius across the grounds. It was past curfew, but you weren’t worried about being caught. You doubted any teacher would tell you anything, let alone punish you on your last evening.
You sat down together by the shores of the quiet lake. Above your heads, the night sky wore stars by the hundreds, the thousands even. You could guess the purple shades of the Milky Way far above. There was no moon, but there were so many stars shining that night that it didn’t really matter.
Sirius stared at you while you watched the sky, the two of you wrapped in a comfortable silence; this intimate kind of quiet that made him feel safe and warm. He stared at you, with your head thrown back to look up at the shining lights, and the ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.
He wished he could stop time for a while, so he could keep on admiring you like this. A simple moment that made his heart swell like never before.
You had a talent, really, to make the world brighter. A real earthquake that had reorganized his life for the better. You had shaken all his boundaries, all the darkest parts of his mind, to shade a bright hope on his life. One day, he would heal. He believed in that now. He had started to believe he could escape his family when he found his brothers. Then he found you, and you promised him something that even his best friends could not have granted him: hope for peace and quiet.
He smiled at the thought. Most people would not think of peace and quiet when thinking about his plans after Hogwarts. Joining the fight against Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Buy that motorcycle he had been dreaming about for months. And build a home with you that he would fill with his leather jackets, his rock music and his bark-like laughter.
It would be quiet though. In his mind and heart, it would be peaceful, like never before. Because he would move in with you, in this apartment you had already found together, and it would be a home. A brand-new home, just for the two of you, where your friends – your family – would always be welcome. A home with you.
He was sad to leave Hogwarts and all the wonderful memories he had gathered along the years, but he was excited too. It was a brand-new chapter in a book he would keep on writing with you. And it felt right. Like he belonged wherever you were.
And the more he thought about it, the more he reckoned that this was the true definition of the word everyone talks about but none can truly define. And he understood why. It was a feeling alright, but a feeling that got so entwined with a person, the two became synonyms. It was love. Love was the way you made him feel, and you were love.
When the words finally formed on his tongue, he found that he was ready. You had rewritten their meaning.
“I love you, Y/N.”
Anti-Hero
A/N: This one gets dark. I’m also going back to my roots and writing in first person!! Normally I write in second, but for this one shot I feel like first person works better.
Title: Anti-Hero
Song: Anti-Hero - Taylor Swift
Pairing: Hosptial!Billy Russo x Fem!Reader
Content: SA, Male nurses being dicks, medical trauma, medical abuse, Krista should probably lose her license but she’s a sweetheart, reader annoys the fuck out of Billy, Billy is a good guy who Rawlins pinned the blame on, Frank feels like a dick, Detailed SH, ED and Sui references, Reader is severely mentally ill, paedophilia, basically shit gets dark 👍, reader mentions death a lot cause their entire family is kinda dead, pregnancy at the end
This fic is extremely self indulgent!! A lot of the experiences are pulled from my life and what I’ve been through. Some are dramatised for the storyline of course (i.e the bouncy castle incident, readers parents dying, etc.)
BR Taglist: @snowkestrel
~
“Mr Castle, I know you and Mr Hoyle had your reservations about my assistance in Mr Russo’s care, so I wanted to bring it up to you first. I think it would be beneficial for another patient to be moved into Billy’s room. They both have a lot in common and I think it would help them both move past their current situations”
I listened behind the door, Dr Dumont had brought it up to me in our last session. Moving me into another assholes room in order to help me. Personally I think I’m doing great, if it weren’t for the dickwad nurses who kept holding me down to drug me. I get it, I’m irrational and violent. Doesn’t mean they get to assault me.
I have this thing where I get older but just never wiser
Midnights become my afternoon
When my depression works the graveyard shift
All of the people I’ve ghosted stand there in the room
I felt like a creep, eavesdropping on my psych and two men I didn’t even know. What were there stories? Would they hurt me too? I couldn’t see any of them, the door blocking my vision. Fortunately all I need was to listen in anyway.
“Look Dr Dumont, I’m not sure-“
One of the men started, I’m not sure which before he was cut off by a quiet slap. It was moments like this I needed a picture, but it doesn’t matter anyways. Visualisation works fine for me.
“Not so hasty Frank. Billy having someone to keep him company would be could. Considering we can’t be here all the time, if he remembers more and gets distressed he’s going to need someone. Who better then another patient who most likely knows procedures”
This man’s voice was different, softer. Not as harsh as the other man’s, Franks, voice. Frank’s vocals were all rough edges and sharp turns, the other man’s was like a smooth pebble, it could do damage but was soft to the touch.
“That’s exactly the plan Mr Hoyle. The patient I’ve selected has been here since they were 16 and I think Billy would be a perfect fit for them. They both grew up in the system, they’ve had similar childhoods. Maybe finally get them to see the outside world, Mr Castle I know you’re hesitant with the idea. But we don’t know how long Billy will take until he’s discharged, this patients been here for 8 years. Please just let them try, the results may surprise you. They’re right outside if you want to meet them”
It’s true, I’ve been here 8 years. I tried to kill myself when I was 16. I took a blade to my wrists and cut the open, pressing down until I could see the veins. The scar has faded but it’s still prominent. Dr Dumont has been here with me since the beginning, she was a student when we first met. Now she’s more like a sister, which sure is unorthodox and wrong. At least I’m not dead though right?
“Fine, where are they?”
Footsteps came towards the door. I backed away trying to scurry away, instead Krista’s face confronted me. Her soft brown skin and lovely dark hair. Dr Dumont was gorgeous, anyone could see it. Even if she wasn’t the greatest psych at times, she’s helped me a lot. Sure I’ve never been able to leave because I’m still a danger but without her the hospital staff would’ve just thrown me on the streets. A hand reached out for mine and I took it, clinging like she was my lifeline.
I should not be left to my own devices
They come with prices and vices
I end up in crisis (tale as old as time)
I wake up screaming from dreaming
One day I’ll watch as you’re leaving
‘Cause you got tired of my scheming
(For the last time)
“Mr Hoyle, Mr Castle, this is Mx. Y/N L/N. They were my first patient back when I was a student”
I waved meekly, analysing the two men. One had dark skin and leaned heavily to the right, an amputee or a bad knee. The other was stocky, tall and had a few scars. The dark skinned man waved back, reaching out his hand. I tended up, feeling my skin construct around my jugular notch. The feeling was grotesque and I hated it, it made me sick. Feeling it tighten and shift as my body locked itself up.
“Sorry, I should’ve mentioned. They don’t always trust men at first, severe sexual trauma in the past has resulted in debilitating androphobia. Another reason they haven’t been able to leave”
Both men nodded and I felt myself subconsciously moving towards Krista, seeking comfort from the older woman. On the hospital bed closest to the window a body shifted, the stocky man turned around. Going to the sleeping figure and getting him to sit up.
“Ah, Billy you’re awake”
Krista spoke once again. Her voice was sweet. I walked over to the bed that sat to the left of Billy’s. Sitting down on it and pulling the blanket around me. In my peripheral I saw the dark skinned man kneel down, facing me.
“Hey, kid I’m sorry if I scared you. I didn’t know, my names Curtis Hoyle. I’m a former medic for the military. Lost my leg in an explosion and now I run a support group for vets. That guy there is Frank Castle. Don’t know if you get the news in here but he has some less than legal hobbies. Neither of us are gonna hurt you, I get that it won’t soothe you, PTSD fucks you up good. That third guy is Billy Russo, he’s the CEO of a huge company. He can be an asshole but he should warm up to you”
He didn’t try to to put his hands near me and his face winced, it looked painful to kneel. Especially now that I know he is an amputee. Curtis stood up, walking over to Frank and Billy. They talked in between themselves, Krista walked over. Kissing my forehead lightly and telling me she’d bring my stuff over later. I walked as she walked out the door, Curtis and Frank following her out soon after.
It’s me, hi, I’m the problem, it’s me
At tea time, everybody agrees
I’ll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror
It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero
“So your names Billy? It suits you”
I tried speaking to him after moments of silence. He didn’t respond, so I kept talking.
“I’m guessing you’re not a talker. Usually I’m not either unless it’s with Doc Dumont. She’s been helping me since I was 16, now Im 24 and nothings changed. It sucks being locked up. I went from abusive home to group home to hospital. Doc said you grew up in the system too? I think that’s why she wanted to pair us together. Something about relating to one another. Being able to help each other”
Still Billy said nothing, so I climbed out of my bed. Walking over to his bed and sitting down. Blanket still wrapped tightly around me.
“I’m sorry if I’m overstepping but I can talk quieter if I’m closer. Hope that’s okay. You know I like your mask, it’s beautiful. Looks like a jigsaw puzzle, kinda reminds me of my scars. When I was 14 I carved pictures into my skin. On my right thigh there’s a star with a puzzle piece next to it. It sounds crazy but I guess that’s why I’m here isn’t it? I’m too mentally deranged for the public to handle. I’ve got carved up skin, I overdosed, I’ve starved and purged, done it all except for drugs and alcohol. Told myself I’d never touch them, when my dad go drunk he’d touch me. Ways a dad shouldn’t touch you, not that I wanna go into detail. He’s an asshole and I’m glad he’s dead. Just wish I didn’t have to watch as my mum plunged a knife into his chest. It was her Chicago moment, ‘He ran into my knife, he ran into my knife ten times’ but instead of jail she slit her throat. Left me all alone until the cops came and dumped me at Ray of Hope”
Billy was now looking at me, I couldn’t see his features. I didn’t know what his face looked like, but his eyes. God his eyes, they were like pieces of obsidian stolen from hell. I could look at them forever.
“You know I hate men, downright terrified of ‘em. I’ve never really met a man that wasn’t a straight up perv or borderline rapist. You seem different, so do your friends. Maybe it’s cause your in hospital and I haven’t spoken to any other dicks but the male nurses who are pervs and assholes in years. Never had visitors, no one cares if my story is told ya know? Parents didn’t want me, no foster families wanted me. I was just a fucked up little kid”
Sometimes I feel like everybody is a sexy baby
And I’m a monster on the hill
Too big to hang out, slowly lurching toward your favourite city
Pierced through the heart, but never killed
Billy reached a hand to my neck, tracing the scars on my neck. Tilting his head silently asking me how it happened, I began to explain.
“I was what, 18? They sent me out for a day, unsupervised the idiots. I brought a pack of razors, disposable kind since I was under 21. Went to a public bathroom and pull the apart until I could get the blade. Bloody difficult task I tell you. When I was summoned back to my room and the nurses were all sent out, I picked one of the blades. Pressing them to my skin and dragging the metal across. Digging in, testing the waters of how deep I could go. I kept slicing until I could reach the hypodermis. When I was happy with the depth, I placed it to my neck. Starting on my left pushing it in, it stung like a fucking bitch. I pulled, swiftly, ripping through the skin and I watched the blood spurt. I collapsed, pulled down a bunch of equipment with me causing the nurses to run in. They had to rush me to emergency surgery. I could’ve died that night. You know they say after five attempts death is guaranteed? Maybe I’m just a fucking pussy but I’ve tried so many times. Nothing will end me Billy, I just can’t seem to let go”
I wasn’t crying, I know I should be. Anyone else in my position would be. It’s a tragic tale or at least it’s meant to be. I didn’t feel anything though, it was just life to me. The same shitty life I’ve had since my dad touched me. Since he followed me into the shower and traced patterns over my breasts which hadn’t even developed. When he made me play with his penis like I was his wife, but I wasn’t. I was his three year old child. I was his kid, the results of unions with him and his wife. Yet to him, the man I was supposed to call my father I was a sex toy. It stayed that way you until I was 12, when my mum stabbed him and slit her throat.
“It’s not a tragic tale Billy. It’s life. Shit happens to all of us. My parents died in a murder suicide when I was 12 years old because my mum god fed up with me crying about my dad touching me. I spent four years in Ray of Hope until I had enough of the pervs there and tried to kill myself. Now I’m here and I’ve been here for eight fucking years Billy. I’ve barely seen the outside world, after my slit throat they didn’t allow me out. I could see other people in normal circumstances because I’m the fucking problem. Not the pedophiles who did this shit to me, not the bitches who bullied me and used me as entertainment, me. I’m the fucking problem because these assholes love to blame the victim. It makes me wonder if I am the victim, maybe I made everyone do this to me. You know before my parents had me they had two miscarriages. Then they had my brother, two years later they had me. My brother died in an accident when I was 4. Stupid thing too, it wasn’t a car or plane crash. It was his birthday, his goddamn birthday Billy. We were at an amusement park, he was on the bouncy castle and someone jumped on him the wrong way. Snapped his spine. That day my dad got worse, maybe if I had looked out for my brother more it wouldn’t have happened”
Did you hear my covert narcissism I disguise as altruism
Like some kind of congressman (Tale as old as time)
I wake up screaming from dreaming
One day I’ll watch as your leaving
And life will lose all its meaning
(For the last time)
~
Days had passed since I was first placed in Billy’s room. I had my books and posters now, decorating my side. The collection had grown thanks to Dr Dumont, who brought me small things when she saw them. Thinking they’d help brighten my day. They help a lot, more than she knows but that’s okay. She’s just my doctor anyways.
“What was it like when you first started cutting?”
Billy spoke up, the first time I’d heard him speak since we’d gotten in this position. His voice was nice, not as gruff or as soft as his friends but it held a certain air of elegance around it. Billy was on the floor working out. Something I was banned from due to my eating disorder.
“I was maybe 10 or 11? Learnt what it was from another Girl Guide. Yup you heard it correctly, I developed a cutting addiction because of Girl Guides. She posted videos of her cutting to social media and I thought ‘hey! That might help me’. So I went and found a pair of those red children scissors, tried to slice my skin with them. Didn’t work, got some red scratches but wasn’t enough. So then I grabbed a kitchen knife. I bled but not enough. I didn’t get deep enough for hypertrophic scars until I was 13. Some idiot left a razor blade out, the ones used for scraping windows or whatever. I stole it, used it for weeks. The feeling of pressing the blade down and swiping it through was invigorating Billy. Felt like fucking nirvana or some shit. I’d take the blade, pressing it into my skin and then swipe as hard as I can. Watch as the skin pulls apart. I would lear at the white stuff, I reached dermis a lot. Second layer of skin yknow? I felt alive as I watched the blood bubble up and drip onto my sheets. Old folks at the group home never thought it was odd. Assumed it was my period the bloody idiots. Foster homes never really cared either, they just told me I was dramatic. Sometimes I wish I never started, I could be out in the world doing something. Living my fucking life. I always wanted to be an author as a kid. Writing was my fucking passion and still is now, about the only thing I’m still good at with all the nerve damage”
Billy had stopped doing his crunches as I finished my tale. Yet he wasn’t looking at me. His eyes were trained on the door two nurses stood there with two trays of food. One nurse walked over to Billy, placing it down on his side table. The other walked over to me, placing mine down.
“You’re fucking lucky your psych has told us not to supervise you yknow? There’s kids starving out there and all you wanna do is waste food. You’re a sad piece of shit. If it was up to me, you would’ve been gone long time ago. Dumont’s just a quack though, when she leaves you won’t be so safe”
He placed a hand to my chest, squeezing my right breast and pushing me backwards. Causing me to fall into my bed. That nurse was always a dick, he was assigned to me back when I was 17. Used to try and watch me shower, even though a female nurse was meant to. Surprised he hasn’t gotten the sack yet. I heard Billy picking up his tray, walking over to me. He took a seat on my bed, it was odd. Normally I’d go over to his to annoy him while I found reasons to avoid eating.
“Those nurses always treat you like that?”
I nodded, looking at my tray of food and picking through what I wanted to have. Just to quench my hunger. There was a falafel wrap, a small pudding cup and some fruit juice. Indicating Claire most likely put my dinner together before dick nurse took over. Billy’s hand reached out to me, resting gently on my knee. He was sat cross legged and looked oddly peaceful for a hospital setting. He pulled his mask off and instinctively I turned away. Billy hadn’t shown me his face yet and I wasn’t about to break a boundary. His hand reached out, pulling it up to face him. He was a sight, dark brown hair that had been buzzed, an array of scars decorating his face, dark inky eyes that I loved.
“You should try and eat, know you say it’s not easy but you need it. All that yapping you do”
He let out a chuckle, finding humour in teasing me. I couldn’t help but laugh as well. A real genuine laugh that I hadn’t felt in years. I didn’t have many friends in the hospital, everyone always avoided me because of my scars. Billy… he saw me. Not the broken, sad, sob story me, but the real me. The dorky, loud, chaotic mess who loved story telling and art. He brought me back to the surface after so many years of drowning.
“I do not yap Russo”
Unbeknownst to me at the time, Krista Dumont was watching the interaction. Watching as I picked apart my food to fling it at Billy. Watching as I laughed my ass off and lived in the child like bliss. I’d only known Billy for a few days, he rarely spoke. He preferred to workout than talk, his therapy sessions weren’t always easy for him and he loved when his friends came to visit. Except when Dinah Madani came, all she wanted to do was prove he was still guilt. Curtis, Frank, Karen, Sarah, Micro, Leo and Zach were all welcome though. Soon they become my people as well, it took a while for Billy to get me to trust them but he did. Now in this moment, as we’re eating together I feel peaceful.
“You do, you’re always fucking talking. For the first few days I thought you were gonna run out of things to talk about. All I wanted to do was to yell at you to shut up, more you spoke more I realised you just wanted to connect”
For the first time in months I took a proper bite of my dinner. Instead of picking it apart and counting the calories. It was nice, Billy was nice.
~ Five years Later ~
25th December 2022
A lot had happened since I had finally gotten out of hospital. All on chance of a guy who had gotten his face smashed into a carousel. His name was William Russo, but he preferred Billy. For the first time in ages I was seeing the outside world again. He invited me to live in his apartment, a penthouse one at that. Expensive and chic. His friends took me in, Karen showed me the sights of New York, Curtis taught me first aid, Frank taught me self defence (much to Billy’s disapproval), Micro introduced me to the technological advancements I missed out on and his wife Sarah taught me how to cook. Their two kids? Leo and Zach? Well they roped me into playing games of all sorts with them. I’ve experienced holiday traditions I didn’t know about and for the first time in a decade I had a family.
“Baby are you ready, we need to get going if we’re gonna get to the Lieberman’s in time”
Billy’s voice called out for me. I walked out of our shared bedroom, into the living room where he was waiting for me. He had a stack of boxes to be taken down to the car and I couldn’t help but laugh at the sight. Billy made his way over to me, hands going straight for the baby bump.
“Look at you gorgeous, can’t wait to tell ‘em all the good news”
Yeah, life was good. Maybe rooting for the anti-hero wasn’t always that bad.
Crazy
Image:
Music stopped but never did my feet,
Eyes went wide on the whole street.
Arms like the wings of a bird flared through the air,
Whispers went loud, "How does she not care?"
Danced my way to the house,
No care about my whereabouts.
They called me embodiment of madness,
"How can she be so shameless?"
Pacing the island on the hours of midnight,
There I stand, a wine glass shining in the moonlight.
Children curse, they blame me,
Wolves cry, they blame me,
Old die, they blame me,
"That woman is crazy"
Hello everyone!! I am by any means not educated enough about poems but i write spontaneously sometimes and wanted people to give it a try!! I am @ colourless.flower on Instagram and i might post my works here too if i get good response!! Thank you !! Please reblog and like if you enjoy my work!
Anything You Want
Part of the Tender Loving Care AU
Pairing: Vampire!Aleksander Morozova x Vampire!Fem!Reader
Summary: With the bond in place between you and Aleksander, the two of you find it easy to fall into one another’s everyday activities - no matter how simple they are.
Warnings: mentions of blood consumption, usually vampire vibes, reader finally calls Aleksander daddy
A/N: I don’t know why but I’m a little nervous to post this part, it feels very lore heavy and I rewrote the ending about five times but I hope that people enjoy it anyway
My Masterlist
Metal clinks lightly against plastic as you drum your fingers over the handle of the shopping trolley, silver ring glistening in the light as you wait for Aleksander to return from the car.
Driving to the supermarket with him had felt like a luxury. Of course, you had learnt to drive a few decades ago, but living in central Os Alta meant that owning a car wasn’t very practical. Besides, you don’t mind the tube service - unless it got overcrowded then you preferred to wait for the next one or just walk.
The sound of a car door closing attracts your attention and soon you spot Aleksander making his way back towards you, winding a scarf loosely around his neck. He’s also wearing a pair of leather gloves that you haven’t seen before and carrying a spare scarf in his hand.
He smiles at you as he stops at your side, looping the scarf over your neck without a word.
“I don’t want you getting cold,” he reasons when you give him a pointed look.
Supermarkets were often an overwhelming experience for you. Their refrigerated shelves sapped all warmth from your body, making you uncomfortable and shaky. Not to mention the sounds of people rushing about.
Aleksander had assured you that the majority of this store’s visitors would be other vampires. From personal experience, he has learnt that Sunday mornings are the quietest time to shop, which is why you feel comfortable as you move towards the entrance.
He takes your hand, pressing a kiss to the skin just above the ring on your finger - the ring he had given you last night.
“Aleksander,” you whisper softly, staring down at the small velvet box he had retrieved from one of the many bags he returned home with.
“This doesn’t have to mean anything serious,” he insists when he sees your eyes widen at the sight of the ring glistening inside.
His eyes are hopeful, but his face is earnest in his seriousness. This means something to him, but he’s not pressuring you to feel the same.
“What does it mean to you?”
“It’s a promise ring.” His voice is delicate as you take the ring between your fingertips, freeing it from the velvet cushioning and turning it over in your hands. “And with it, I promise to always look after you - if you’ll have me.”
“Will you put it on for me?”
The smile on his face when he had placed the silver ring on your finger warms you more than your layers as you step inside the supermarket.
Aleksander gives you a few seconds to orientate yourself. The chill makes you shiver and he settles an arm around you, but the sounds and scents aren’t too overwhelming. He had been right, there aren’t many people here at this time.
Aleksander hovers closely behind you, occasionally rubbing his hands over your arms and shoulders as the two of you walk down the aisles. His proximity gifts you with a little extra warmth - natural vampires could maintain their body heat better than a turned vampire like you.
He begins to fill the shopping trolley with the groceries he needs, as well as a few extra things for you. Despite your insistence that you could do your own shopping another time, Aleksander refuses to allow you to return to your apartment without knowing you have the means to make a few meals.
“I should probably stop at the blood bank on the way home,” you say lightly as he rifles through the stack of steaks on the shelf.
It feels strange calling your apartment home. After spending so much time with Aleksander, you had already started viewing his apartment as your home. You certainly felt more at home there than you did in the apartment you share with Alina.
Aleksander frowns lightly as he places his selected steak in the trolley.
“I thought you still had a few bottles?”
“I did when I left. Alina always tells her company not to touch it, but it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve returned to an empty fridge.”
He circles around the trolley to stand behind you, one hand placed on the handle next to your own.
“Her werewolf friends?”
You hum lightly and you can feel Aleksander’s disapproval. Unlike you, werewolves could live off human food as long as they consumed enough iron and protein. Human blood, a lifeline for you and Aleksander, was merely a rare indulgence for them.
Settling your hand over his, you provide a gentle squeeze which has his expression softening before he asks,
“Would you like me to go with you?”
“I don’t think you can.”
His frown returns, deeper this time.
“Why not?”
A small smile tugs at your lips in response to his tone, as if he would do anything to be by your side. Then your smile fades and embarrassment flushes through you as you explain,
“My local blood bank isn’t in the nicest area, they only let you in once you’ve confirmed your NBP number.”
The muscle in Aleksander’s jaw twitches slightly as he processes this information and realises you’re right. Aleksander pays yearly to visit a private blood bank, one he’s been using for the last fifty years, meaning that his National Blood Prescription is most likely invalid.
“Would you be willing to visit mine?” he asks.
“Is that allowed?”
He nods.
“Of course. There’s a monthly limit on how much I can take, but as we’re approaching the end of the month now I know I can ask for extra.”
“And they’d give it to you?”
He nods slowly, his head tilted aside with questions in his eyes.
“I’m never allowed more than two bottles at a time,” you tell him in explanation.
“Would you consider going private?”
Nervously, you trace your fingertip over the stitching that holds his leather gloves together.
“Would you help me sign up? I’m always scared that they can tell I’m clueless, it makes me feel like I’m not even a real vampire.”
There’s a peculiar tug at your heart before a wave of reassurance fills you.
“Of course I will help you. I know it can’t have been easy doing all of this on your own.” There’s a small pause before he adds, “In my opinion, it makes you more of a vampire than anyone else I know.”
Turning to look at him, you see nothing but genuine admiration in his eyes. It had been hard, doing everything by yourself. Registering yourself as a vampire, filling in forms with tears in your eyes, wondering if you were doing something wrong.
When the government first issued the request for vampires to register themselves, you thought it was a ploy for them to hunt your kind down. It was only once they began the National Blood Prescription service that you signed up, tired of stealing blood from butchers and hospitals.
“Wait for me here for a moment,” he says, an idea sparkling in his eyes.
Parking yourself to one side, you watch as Aleksander walks towards the bakery section, disappearing from your view as he nears the freshly baked cakes.
A vampire walks by you, before she loops back with lightly furrowed brows, evidently searching for something in particular. She gives you a polite smile as she gestures towards the tins currently blocked by your trolley.
“Excuse me, could I just…?”
You immediately begin to move out of the way with a small smile.
“Oh sorry, of course.”
“Thank you.”
Aleksander has returned to your side by the time she’s gathered her required cans into her basket. She glances between the two of you as Aleksander presses a kiss to your temple and you smile at his attempt at distracting you from the sweet treats he had retrieved.
“Congratulations,” she says to you with a kind smile as she glances pointedly at Aleksander.
The look on his face can only be described as pride as he settles his hand back on your waist and thanks her while you murmur out your thanks with a shy smile.
Once she’s moved on the two of you continue to wander, Aleksander walking closely behind you with a hand on either side of yours as the two of you push the shopping trolley.
“Are we really that obvious?” you ask him.
He chuckles.
“Our scents give us away. She could probably tell that you’re not a fledgling and is just happy to see you so content after the claiming.”
“I’m not a fledgling?” you remark teasingly.
He smiles softly, tugging you towards his chest and mouthing his next words against your ear.
“No matter how old you are, you will always be my little fledgling.”
Aleksander nuzzles his nose against your hairline affectionately and a thrill runs through you. You are old enough to not be considered a fledgling anymore, but you’re glad Aleksander intends on giving you everything you had missed out on during your first century of being a vampire.
The thought of being his forever, even in some small way, has your smile lingering on your lips.
“My friends would like to throw you a… rather belated turning party.”
“Turning party?” He nods.
“Covens tend to celebrate a new addition to their group, which is usually after the turning. Or, in your case, the claiming.”
He takes your silence as hesitation. Despite being a vampire yourself, you struggled to feel comfortable around your own kind. Aleksander is the first vampire you’ve ever been able to trust.
“You don’t have to indulge them. If you don’t want the attention or feel too overwhelmed at the thought of it please don’t feel the need to perform for their sake.”
“They wouldn’t be disappointed?”
He shakes his head earnestly.
“Fedoyr adores you, as does Nina. Whilst their partners might not be the most forthcoming, they are already fond of you as well.”
Ivan and Matthias had intimidated you at first but the fact that they appear to have enjoyed your company - if only from Aleksander’s point of view - reassures you as he continues to speak,
“Genya is eager to meet you, but if I suggested a quiet dinner - something you would be more comfortable with - she would accept in a heartbeat.”
You really should stop being so startled by how well Aleksander knows you. He smiles softly, waiting for your eyes to return to his before he reminds you,
“As I said before, we go at your pace.”
Before you met Aleksander, the idea of a party full of vampires and other supernatural beings would have terrified you. Now, you know that Aleksander wouldn’t allow anything to happen that you wouldn’t enjoy.
“I think I’d like it. A turning party.”
He smiles.
“I’ll let Genya know.”
»»---------------------►
“You can wait outside for me,” Aleksander suggests. It’s likely he’s noticed how your pace beside him has slowed as you near the entrance to his blood bank.
You shake your head determinedly.
“No, I can do this.”
He presses a reassuring kiss to your temple as you approach the automatic doors. Once the glass slides open, you press yourself closer against his side and the two of you walk into the blood bank.
Immediately, you feel silly for being so nervous.
There’s a comfortable looking waiting area, no doubt for if the reception is busy, but there’s no one sitting there at the moment.
The lighting is soft and yellow, not the harsh white that they use at your blood bank. Everything smells fresh and clean, but not the awful clinical scent that turns your stomach.
There’s the soft hum of music from the receptionist’s radio, which she turns down even lower as you and Aleksander approach the front desk. She gives you a friendly smile first which makes you feel less like a child tagging along, then her smile widens with familiarity as she looks at Aleksander.
“Aleksander, it’s been a while.” She leans back in her chair slightly, ready to stand as she asks, “Your usual?”
He greets her with a small smile.
“Hello Karla. Actually, I was wondering how many bottles I have left on my monthly allowance.”
She nods, brows furrowing in concentration as she looks down at the computer screen in front of her. As she types in his details, you look around.
Everything seems to be designed solely for comfort or aesthetic, a stark contrast to the blood bank you visit where everything is designed with security in mind - to protect the workers from vampires.
A few clicks later, Karla looks back up at Aleksander.
“You have ten left for this month.”
He nods.
“I’ll take them all.”
She picks up a small notepad and pen, holding them out to him.
“Write down what types you want and I’ll go get them.”
“Aleksander,” you murmur quietly, tugging on his sleeve gently for his attention. When he looks at you he finds you struggling to meet his gaze. “That’s too many.”
“Two for me, eight for you.” He begins to write down the different types on the paper as you twist your fingers over the fabric of his coat sleeve.
“Four and six.” The corner of his mouth twitches with the hint of a laugh at your attempt at negotiation.
“Three and seven,” he counters, his tone final.
When he notices you biting down on your lip, he lowers his pen. He hands the paper to Karla and she tells him she won’t be long, before she opens up a door behind her desk and disappears.
Then Aleksander says slowly,
“If I’m overstepping-”
“You’re not, I promise. I’m just…” Staring down at the floor, you push yourself to tell him what you’re feeling. “I’m not used to this.”
His eyes scour over your face, trying to read your comfort level at the moment.
“I’m not used to someone else thinking about my needs.” Uncurling your fingers from his sleeve, you begin to fidget with his fingers instead as you admit, “Whenever I do it myself, I get overwhelmed and forget things and it makes it all so difficult. But with you it’s easy.”
He squeezes your fingers gently, stepping closer so that you can lean against him.
“That’s all I want for you - for things to be easy.”
“Thank you.”
The sound of a door opening prevents Aleksander from responding and you lift your head up to look in the direction of the noise.
Karla steps out of the door to your left with a box tucked up in her arms. As Aleksander takes it from her, the glass bottles inside clink together lightly.
She gives him a grateful smile before she pulls out a bundle of glossy looking papers from under her arm. Then she holds them out towards you.
“I thought you might want to have a look at our signup brochures.”
Glancing down at the papers, you see the company logo and some typical public health style advertising, accompanied by a body of text explaining how to sign up.
“Oh thank you.” Her smile is kind as she adds quietly,
“We also offer sire finding services, if you’re ever interested.”
Eyes widening slightly, you wonder if everyone can see that Aleksander isn’t your sire - despite his claim on you.
When you glance quickly over at Aleksander, you find him watching you intently, studying your reaction as you shake your head and take the booklet she’s offering.
“Just the signup stuff, thank you.”
»»---------------------►
Once you return to Aleksander’s apartment, you help him unpack everything.
His groceries are spread out over the countertop as you empty the shopping bags, whilst a small pile is growing in a separate bag near the refrigerator.
Every time you see him place something in the bag, you smile, knowing that he intends on sending you home with those items.
It’s only when you’re filling up his fruit bowl and Aleksander is folding up his shopping bags, that his voice pulls you out of your thoughts.
“Milaya?”
Placing down an apple, you look over at him as he steps towards you.
“If you want to find your sire, I want you to know that you don’t need my permission.” At the sight of your frown, he adds, “It’s perfectly natural for you to want to know him.”
Distress prickles over your skin, you’re certain he can feel it through your bond as he opens up his arms for you. Instantly, you curl your fingers into the fabric of his sweater, soft and safe and warm.
“I don’t want to know him.” Your voice is quiet, but you know he hears you. “I don’t want him.” Burying yourself further into his arms, you nuzzle your nose over his pulse point, breathing in his scent as you mumble your next words, “I want you. Want you to be my sire, Aleksander.”
He tightens his hold on you for a moment, providing your body with an affectionate squeeze.
“I can be whatever you want me to be, milaya.” He ducks his head down slightly, ensuring that you meet his gaze. “Your sire, your lover, anything.”
Deep down, you wish he had said one more title. The one that weighs heavily on your tongue. Three is the magic number after all and you want him to be all three - your sire, your lover…
“My daddy?”
Mouth dry, your voice cracks as you whisper those two hopeful little words and you step back, fidgeting nervously with your ring.
Suddenly you’re frightened that you’ve gone too far, you know that plenty of humans use the term for their partners but Aleksander might be put off by it.
He might not see you that way. He might not want you in that way.
“I told you, anything you want.”
You shake your head, forcing yourself not to melt under his affectionate gaze - not until you know for certain that you both want this.
“You don’t have to just because it’s what I want.”
Sensing your growing distress, Aleksander pulls you back towards him, running a hand soothingly over your arm.
“I would love to be your daddy, little one.”
You blink up at him.
“You would?”
He nods with an indulgent smile.
“From the very first time I saw you, I knew that I wanted to look after you. Keep you safe.” He curls his arms around you properly, settling his each of his palms against your sides. “Keep you warm, and fed, and comfortable.”
A small sigh of relief and longing leaves your lips.
“Would you like that, little one?” he murmurs.
You nod against his chest.
“Yes please daddy.”
He presses a kiss to the top of your head and you smile.
»»---------------------►
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»»---------------------►
Golden Hour
Part of the Glitter & Gold AU
Pairing: Darklina x Fem!Reader
Summary: Alina and Aleksander are rather taken by you, and your presence in their lives becomes a source of frustration that wears away their restraint day by day. They both intend for you to be theirs.
Warnings [18+]: smut, hallway sex and oral (Aleksander x Alina), references to sex, implied off screen sex (Zoyalai x Reader).
My Masterlist
Ever since that first meeting, Aleksander and Alina can’t stop thinking about you.
When they arrive back at their house after walking you home, they can barely get through the front door before their hands are on one another.
In the hallway, Aleksander rucks up the skirt of Alina’s dress, pushing it over her hips and tugging her panties aside. He groans lowly when he recognises one of your designs and teases her for soaking through the delicate material.
She moans as he quietly muses about how much effort you must have put into the creation of her panties, only for her to ruin them with her arousal after a mere kiss from you. He reminds her of how stunning you looked and all the things he plans to do to you both.
She comes undone over his fingers and before she can even think of catching her breath, her husband has pushed his trousers down and slid his cock inside her. Their moans align perfectly, filling their entrance hall with the sound of their lust fuelled frenzy.
Heated skin grinding desperately with each thrust of Aleksander’s hips, a soft thud each time Alina arches her back against the wall. She still flushes when she hears the slick sound of her own arousal as Aleksander continues his determined motions.
When his lithe fingers trace over her sensitive clit she gasps, her entire lower body clenching in a valiant effort to keep him inside her. His breath is hot against her collarbone as he leans down to suck the gloss of sweat from her skin and her fingers fist his hair tightly.
“So good, malyshka,” he murmurs against her neck as he bites down on the skin there, worrying it between his teeth. He only stops to groan as Alina clenches hard around his cock. With how tight she is, Aleksander knows his wife is close to coming undone once again.
He pulls his face away from the crook of her neck so that he can watch her expression. He always loves watching her succumb to pleasure. He wonders whether you would scrunch your nose like she does, closing her eyes as she peaks. A low moan catches in his throat as he imagines your eyes locked with his as you climax.
Alina tugs on his hair, pulling him up to meet her lips in a fervent kiss. He traces his tongue over hers, before she sucks on his lower lip, the scrape of her teeth against the soft flesh there sends a sharp spark of arousal down to his cock.
He holds on tight to her hips, increasing his pace as she begins to climax with a small cry of his name. After a few more thrusts, Aleksander reaches the precipice of his own orgasm unable to last much longer with Alina gripping onto his cock so tightly.
The two of them pause as they soak in their shared high, leaning heavily against one another. He presses a kiss to her lips, chaste at first, but his lips linger affectionately as he withdraws which has them both smiling. Aleksander steps back to collect himself, and the chill of the quiet house brushes over Alina’s pleasure flushed skin.
She breathes out a laugh as she watches her husband, refined man that he always has been, pull his trousers up and stuff himself back into the crumpled fabric. At the sound of her laugh, Aleksander lifts his head up, gifting her a luminous smile. Somehow, you had the two of them acting like teenagers fooling around with one another.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
Aleksander and Alina agree with one another to take things slow with you. Neither of them wanted their attraction towards you to disrupt your relationships with the other members of their group, or the collaboration between your fashion label and Morozov, especially when you seemed so excited by the prospect of working with Aleksander’s company.
In theory, it had been a good idea.
Then you join Zoya on her lunch break, meeting up with Alina at a nearby café.
She has to watch as you shrug off your blazer, revealing the pretty bralette you’re wearing underneath. Alina tries not to stare. Truly, she does.
Luckily Zoya keeps the conversation flowing easily enough between the three of you, meaning that Alina can subtly admire you. She barely even realises her mind has begun to wander, imagining the chill of your rings against her cheeks as you cup her face, tracing your way down her body before she feels the metal press against her thighs as you spread her open.
What pulls her out of her thoughts, and brings an embarrassed blush to her cheeks, is the sound of your voice asking about the photoshoot she’s working on with David tomorrow.
After lunch she walks directly to the Morozov building, hoping the exercise will help rid some of the tension inside her. It doesn’t. As the elevator takes her up to the floor of her husband’s office, Alina is bouncing her leg with the restless energy that has filled her.
As soon as her dark eyes lock on his, Aleksander turns to his assistant and requests that he not be disturbed for the next hour.
Aleksander sits his wife down on his desk, pushing away his papers and ensuring she’s comfortable before he pushes her skirt up, tugs her panties down, and buries his face into her cunt.
All the while, he insists on her telling him every single thing that had riled her up this much. Through her whimpers and moans, she tells him how stunning you looked today, how much she wants you, how much she wants the three of you together.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
Whilst he might enjoy teasing his wife relentlessly about you, Aleksander is just as consumed as Alina with thoughts of you. So, when he knocks on Nikolai and Zoya’s front door and you answer, body half tucked away behind the blue wooden door, he almost believes he has manifested your presence through sheer desire of wanting to see you again.
His work has been occupying the majority of his time as of late, meaning that he has been unable to contact you about working with him. His assistant has exchanged a series of emails with your own assistant, but Aleksander has been hoping to discuss things one-on-one with you.
Now, here you are.
His stomach flips when he sees you smile shyly in recognition. Once you realise that Aleksander is the person at the door, you relax your stance and allow the door to swing open a little further.
“Aleksander, hi.”
His gaze drifts down, noticing your bare legs. Tongue tracing over his lips, he observes the flush of your skin and the fact that you’re wearing one of Nikolai’s cream dress shirts. When you see where his eyes have drifted, you look down at the hardwood floor beneath you and a smirk curls at the corner of his mouth. Then he lifts the thick brown envelope in his hand, nodding towards it.
“I have a few things for Nikolai to sign, as soon as possible.”
You nod.
“Come in, I’ll go grab him.”
He waits in the entrance hall as you rush up the stairs. The angle Aleksander stands at means he catches a small glimpse of your light blue panties, and his mouth goes dry at the sight.
In the distance, he can hear a door opening and the low sound of music humming away. It isn’t long before you’re back, breezing by him as you say,
“He’ll be down in a bit; would you like something to drink? Tea? Coffee?”
He blinks at you, following as you pad barefoot over the cool hardwood floor towards the kitchen.
“A tea would be lovely. Zoya has-”
“The fancy Novyi Zem tea?”
He nods with a surprised smile, and you laugh softly.
“I could never justify spending that much on tea, but I have some almost every time I’m here.”
“Are you here often?” he asks, but winces when he realises that once again he’s asking about the relationship between you and the couple, as if he has any right to be jealous. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to pry.”
You smile softly as you reach for the kettle, filling it with water as Aleksander shrugs off his wool coat and places over the back of a chair.
“I’m just trying to understand how you’re so close to them both – and yet I’ve never met you.”
When your smile widens Aleksander breathes a small sigh of relief, at least he hasn’t offended you, then you breathe out a laugh and his heart flutters at the sound.
“I think we have rather clashing schedules. My assistant says he’s been having a nightmare trying to organise a meeting with you.”
“My apologies, I had hoped we could have discussed a few things by now.”
You nod in agreement.
“It’s alright, I understand. I’ve been busy too, after all. Perhaps…” Before you can finish your musings, you turn away quickly, opening up the cupboard beside your head and standing on tiptoe to retrieve two mugs.
“Yes?” he prompts you gently which encourages you to turn around and face him as the water in the kettle begins to boil.
“Well, I- I thought that, maybe, since we’re friends, you might not mind having dinner sometime after work? A work dinner, I know you don’t usually do those. But Alina would be welcome of course.” Aleksander watches with a minute smile as you stumble over your words.
A work dinner would be an ideal opportunity to discuss the collaboration he plans to work on with you, but he’s impressed by your observation regarding his disdain of work dinners, though that is usually because he isn’t fond of pretending that his clients are the sorts of company he wants to keep. There is a reason why he is so selective with his friends.
But you are different from the other designers and celebrities he works with. He wants to know you, intimately, if you will allow him to do so. The majority of his clients wouldn’t even consider asking Alina to join them for dinner, though he hopes there might be a more selfish reason why you want to see himself and his wife again.
Aleksander tries his hardest to maintain a healthy work-life balance. Whilst he values his company and everything he has done for himself, nothing is worth more to him than time spent with Alina.
He’s considering this as you place a mug down in front of him, a small frown creasing at your brows.
“You don’t take sugar do you?”
He shakes his head, picking up the mug with a grateful smile as Nikolai appears in the doorway. His blonde hair is damp, slicked back away from his forehead as he ties up the belt of his dark blue bathrobe, nodding towards Aleksander in greeting.
Nikolai stands behind you as he talks to Aleksander about the papers he had brought over, finalising some sort of investment from a group of benefactors to fund one of Nikolai’s latest projects.
As his palms smooth down your arms and shoulders, you tune out the conversation and sip on your tea. Then Nikolai presses his thumb into the centre of each shoulder, and you bite down on your lip at the sudden contact at such a tender area.
“You’re tense,” he remarks, looking down at you, his frown deepening as he works his fingers into the rigid muscle at the spot between your neck and your shoulder blade. “How are you still so tense?”
“Maybe you’re not as good as you think you are,” you quip before a groan of complaint halts your teasing. “Saints, you’re making it worse.”
He clicks his tongue at your squirming.
“You work too hard.”
You scoff, retorting quickly,
“And you don’t work hard enough.”
He shakes his head with a small laugh. Nikolai knows he will never work as hard as you do, but he has no desire to make his life any more difficult than it needs to be.
Aleksander places his mug aside, nudging the papers in Nikolai’s direction before he beckons to you with a casual flick of his fingers and an easy demand,
“Come here, milaya.”
Eyes widening, you watch as he slides his chair back a little, intending for you to sit down in his lap. Nikolai nudges you gently towards Aleksander and within seconds you’re settling yourself over his thighs, your back almost flush with his chest. The feeling of his trousers against your skin, warm dress fabric underneath your bare legs, makes you shiver.
Tugging the back of the shirt collar away from your body, Aleksander slips his hands under the fabric, and he both hears and feels the sharp inhale from you as his hands touch your bare skin. Luckily the mug of tea has warmed his hands, so the tension begins to melt from you rather quickly as his fingers work confidently over your aching muscles.
He can sense some tension lingering, as you remain silent and no doubt focused on not squirming in his lap and embarrassing yourself. Nikolai looks up from his contract, watching a familiar expression cross over your features as you attempt to stay quiet and unaffected by Aleksander’s touch.
Nikolai scrawls his signature down, flipping over another page before he leans over towards you to take your chin between his fingers.
“What have I told you about those pretty noises of yours?”
A flush of warmth spreads over your cheeks, reminding you of the first night you ever spent with Nikolai.
Aleksander’s thumb runs down the length of a particularly stiff muscle and a small whimper catches in your throat. They both share a smile at the sound, and Aleksander can feel your body warming with a pretty flush as you sit in his lap.
Something between a sigh and a moan falls from your lips as he puts a little more pressure into his motions and you practically melt beneath his touch.
Nikolai grins, letting go of your chin as he returns his attention to the papers in front of him and Aleksander hums softly after soothing a particularly achy spot.
“What did you do this morning?” he asks in a low voice. Blinking in confusion, you wonder whether he’s speaking to you. Then Nikolai answers,
“Had her come undone over my tongue.”
They know what they’re doing, talking about you as if you aren’t in the room, and the back and forth between the two of them is dizzying. Aleksander makes a small sound of acknowledgement before he muses,
“You always have been good with your mouth.”
Nikolai shoots him a sideways glance accompanied by crooked smirk. It’s then that you remember that Aleksander and Nikolai went to university together. You can only imagine what kind of debauchery they had indulged in – both of them eager for some rebellion against their respective families.
To this very day, Nikolai still curses the Lanstov name, and you can remember reading the headlines the day Aleksander had sued his mother for withholding his grandfather’s inheritance from him.
Aleksander takes the back of your neck between his fingers, and you know they both hear how your breathing stutters as he moves the pad of his fingers over the muscles there.
Eyes fluttering closed, you lose yourself for a moment, mesmerised by the way Aleksander has removed aches from your body that you hadn’t even realised existed. Though you wish he would do something about the ache between your legs.
Nikolai finishes signing his papers, slotting them back into the envelope Aleksander had used to transport them here. He tilts his head slightly, and even through the haze clouding your mind you recognise the sound of their bathroom door closing. Nikolai gives you a small smile before he nods up towards the ceiling in the direction of the bathroom.
“Shower’s running upstairs for you.”
It takes a few seconds for you to process his words.
“Oh, thanks.”
Reluctantly, you slide off Aleksander’s lap. Suddenly you had no idea what to say to him. Before Nikolai arrived you had been discussing work and the prospect of dinner. Now, you know what his hands feel like against your bare skin and you fear you will never forget it until you feel it again.
He frowns lightly before he asks,
“Are you free next Tuesday evening?”
“I-” You hadn’t been expecting that. Nevertheless, you nod. “Yes. I am.”
He nods, leaning back in his chair slightly. Eyes fixed resolutely on his face, you don’t dare watch his hand as it lowers into his trouser pocket to retrieve his phone. You don’t want to ponder over whatever effect your position on his lap had had on him.
“I will send you my address now.” Despite your nod, there’s no understanding in your eyes as you watch him scroll through his contacts. When he catches your gaze he breathes out a small huff of a smile before he adds, “For dinner.”
“Oh, right. Yes, of course.”
Taking a step towards the door, you nod again.
“I’ll see you then, I suppose.”
He smiles.
“Until then.”
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
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Let Me Explore You
Image:
Speak out the words held in your heart,
Melt mine with the whispers.
Catch me in the loop of galaxies held in those eyes,
Hold mine in your cosmos.
Draw me a picture of a world held within you,
Take my hand and let me trace the world of you.
Hello everyone!! I am by any means not educated enough about poems but i write spontaneously sometimes and wanted people to give it a try!! I am @ colourless.flower on Instagram and i might post my works here too if i get good response!! Thank you !! Please reblog and like if you enjoy my work!
If Rose Were A Woman
Image:
If rose were a woman,
Would she be the goddess of beauty?
Or embodiment of envy?
If rose were a woman,
Will they let her beauty bloom?
Or will they keep her around their arms?
If rose were a woman?
Will they let her love?
Or will they break her for the traces of her love?
Hello everyone!! I am by any means not educated enough about poems but i write spontaneously sometimes and wanted people to give it a try!! I am @ colourless.flower on Instagram and i might post my works here too if i get good response!! Thank you !! Please reblog and like if you enjoy my work!
