I believe that Tsukki's love language is quality time, so he will be more likely to go with you if you ask.
If you don't ask and he feel like going, he would just be like "K let's go"
But you wouldn't mind because why would you?
He would be quiet, probably on his phone while walking. Only talks when asked something. Y'know like a mature person.
You would most likely ask him to get you something from a higher shelf, that you can't reach, and he will for sure give you his shit-eating smirk, he doesn't have to make a comment, you just know he is making fun of you 🙃
Will reach for the thing while looking and grinning at you, and I know I would've stabbed him with a shampoo bottle somehow 😒
If he spots someone he knows he will try his damn best to pretend like he is not seeing them, he would just stare at the products on the shelf and pray they don't notice him. But the boy is 190 cm tall, so it's impossible not to see him, and then it's up to the person to come to him or move on. "Not so cool being tall now is it 😈" "shut up "
In the end it's a good way to spend time with him and do some house chores. Two birds with one stone. I mean he is a little tall shit, but you love him.
(I was gonna say your piece of shit and decided not to 😭😂)
Oikawa Tooru
He wants to go, will wait for you to ask him to go, will drop hints left and right that he wants to go, when you ask him to go, he will say no 🤡
Another piece of shit.
When you look at him like 😑, he will roll his eyes and be like "OK I'll come with you" like he is doing that for you not because he wants to.
Will walk around with his hands in his pocket like he is THE One The Only PoS (piece of shit). Will be looking at products' description if you do, if you don't, he will pretend to do so because he thinks that makes him look smart and responsible. It doesn't.
Definitely gonna try do the thing where he stands behind you and put his hands on yours on the handle and push? Yeah it's hard, it's suffocating and one of you or both had mostly tripped and fell.
Will put stuff in the trolley/ basket/ cart that he wants and be like "we NEED them". He doesn't, he wouldn't even remember them after you leave the shop.
If you ask him to bring you something from another aisle, he will sigh and be like "what would you ever do without me?" "A little late."
He will go and not come back, when you go looking for him? He is surrounded by fangirls and fanboys and plenty of people. You will have to get him out one way or the other, aaaaand bring the thing you needed.
"Shut up" "I didn't say anything" "I know what you're thinking" "do you really?" "Hmph" "... what would you ever do without me" "I hate you"
When he sees someone he knows, he will react differently depending on the person, like if he saw someone he like, he will say hi, and talk to them, if the person wasn't that important, he would ignore them and go on.( unless it's Kageyama, then he would start his usual 'No BaKA, BAka' thing, which reminds you why you didn't want to take him with you.
Well, at least he carries the bags, if not willing then forced.
……….
This is basically the first time I have written a hc, so I apologise if it's not perfect.
I know I haven't written anything, in like… a year? Maybe less? But anyway I still have a while to be free enough to actually sit and write something. So I hope this can be a good I'll be back thingie.
So. Reader Yuu X... idk. (Anyone you want in group or not, idk).
(Warning: I ENDED UP RAMBLING TOO MUCH, SRR).
Yuu has magic. Yeah, let me explain.
Reader's father (or mother, just one of their parents) is from Twisted Wonderland World, and the other one is from the Normal World... The magic of that parent from Twst is Teleportation which progressed so far that it ended up with them in the Normal World, falling in love with the other parent and with the birth of Reader!
... Reader has magic. Also an Teleportation magic.
And, since Reader is a Child, is an common occurrence that Reader just wakes up in Twisted Wonderland world. At the first times Readers was scared af, even though he always reappeared at home after a few days. But them their parents explained and Reader calmed a bit down. So when Reader just Pop up into the Twisted Wonderland world, they are calm.
(I must say this is a decent concept for an Yuusona).
So... in all that years of cassualy jumping into the two worlds, Reader often meet someone in that days they spend in twst. [Character]! (I didn't choose anyone). And they kinda like each other...
And their interactions as children/young adolescents bc reader was not always there but they both like hanging out with eachother.
So when Reader is Teleported bc of the Black Charriot, they (Both reader and Character) are like "I'M HERE AGAIN??" / "YOU'RE HERE AGAIN???".
It’s You Again?
Cater x Reader
Notes: I love this idea, and I think it really fits Cater since he didn’t have many friends growing up, and it would make sense that they would see them every now and again until he had to move. His childhood home might’ve not been in the Shaftlands, but for the sake of this fic, let’s pretend it is. And Cater and reader are going to be around 11-13. There might be slight angst idk, I’ll see once I start writing… Also I am having a good day, I hope you’re having one too💕
The sounds of birds chirping suddenly make you jolt out of your sleep. You look around and realize you’re not at home in your warm, cozy bed, your under a shaded tree, laying in some fluffy, forest grass. Surprisingly it sort of feels better than your bed. You let out a loud yawn and stretch, looking around and noticing you’re in Twisted Wonderland again. Specifically a part of Twisted Wonderland you’ve come to know as the Shaftlands, from accidentally waking up there so many times. It’s also your favorite part, but only because it’s where your best friend lives.
After fully processing your surroundings, you stand up and begin to start walking over to his house. ‘His’ being Cater Diamond. You knew exactly where his house was, playing in his backyard countless times, it was practically your second home. And right before you could knock on the door, just barely getting up to the pathway to the house, Cater suddenly bursts right through. “Okay, Mom, see you later-! Aah!”, he quickly stops in his tracks upon seeing you, “It’s you again! I’m sorry for almost running into you. Maybe I really should be more careful…”, Cater trails off sheepishly as he hops off his skateboard and wraps an arm around you.
“Yeah, you really should! You almost gave me a heart attack.”, you playfully glare at him, huffing and crossing your arms. “I said I was sorry, [Name], you don’t gotta be dramatic.”, Cater rolls his eyes, but looks a little more guilty. Something you always noticed about Cater is that no matter how silly you’re being, he tends to take you seriously. You know he’s not stupid, nor dense, but it almost feels protective somehow. You don’t really understand, but it makes your stomach feel weird and your cheeks heat up every time. Cater’s arm is still wrapped around you, he doesn’t want to let go until he knows for sure you’re not mad at him.
“But seriously,”, he starts to say again, “I’ll let you ride my skateboard if that’ll make you feel better.”, he smiles sheepishly once more, clearly feeling awkward now. “I don’t know how to ride a skateboard, you’re gonna have to teach me.”, you admit, feeling a little embarrassed, thinking you seem lame to Cater, but then he immediately disproves your thoughts. “I’d love to teach you how to skateboard! This is perfect, I never get to teach people brand new things!”, he shouts excitedly, while you just give him a weird look. “You’re always teaching me new things?” “Yeah, but not about skateboarding. No one’s ever wanted me to teach them about skateboarding.”, Cater says, a-matter-of-factly.
“Maybe it’s because you act like that.”, you roll your eyes as you go over to Cater’s skateboard and stand on top of it, while he follows behind you with an offended look on his face. “My bad, dude, I didn’t mean to strike a nerve…”, he sighs as he stands behind you. Then Cater starts to teach you all about skateboarding, from how to stand, pushing off, breaking. He even threw a few tricks into the mix as you got the hand of it, and skated to the park. At the park, you had free rein to do whatever you wanted. One point, you offered to take Cater for a ride, but that ended with you two flipping off the board. The big laugh you shared at the end was worth every bump and bruise.
The sun started to go down, and you and Cater decided to go sit on a bench, resting a bit before you both went back to his house. “Thank you for teaching me how to…what did you call it?”, you pause for a moment, then snap your fingers, “Shredding! Yeah, shredding, thanks for teaching me that.” “You’re welcome, but you gotta make it sound cooler than that.”, he snickers, “You sound like a total nerd.” You just blow raspberries at Cater, but surprisingly, he doesn’t blow any back. When you look closer at his face, you notice that he has a bit of a sad smile on his face.
“Hey, Cay, are you okay?”, you say softly as you scoot closer him, trying to offer some comfort. “Yeah, it’s just that…”, he leans his head on your shoulder, having a hard time being vulnerable, but trying just for you. “You’re such a good friend, I don’t get many of those. You make me feel less alone when I feel like I don’t have anyone.”, his voice shakes a bit as he’s barely holding himself together. “Wait, don’t cry!”, you panic after you hear his voice shake, “I feel the same with you, you’re the funnest person ever, and I love having out with you. I feel like you’re my best friend at this point.”, you give him a side hug. After Cater calms down, you both start to leave the park, this time the journey back seems more melancholy than peaceful like it usually is.
“See you next time?”, you hold your hand out for a fist bump, practicing the little tradition you and Cater made up every time you separated for the night. “Yeah, hopefully…”, Cater practically whispers, but instead of giving you your usual fist bump, he grabs your other hand and squeezes it tight, then waves as he goes to walk inside. You walk off to your little spot in the forest, your hand tingling and your stomach feeling weird again. You fully thought that the next time you landed yourself in Twisted Wonderland, it’d be full of laughs and joyful memories. Little did you know that it wasn’t, and that’s exactly why Cater started acting strangely.
A few days later, you open your eyes to see a squirrel scurrying across your chest, you yawn as you look around further. You were back in the Shaftlands, and as soon as that fact registered in your brain, you quickly made your way over to Caters house. But as soon as you get there, much to your horror, there’s a big sign that says ‘SOLD’ right in front of it. You almost screamed when you saw it. That explained everything single thing that happened after you and Cater sat down at the park. No wonder he was actually so weird, he didn’t want you to dread the day he moved away as much as he did, but he still could’ve given you a warning. It doesn’t matter now, but still. You walk back to your little forest nook, lie down, then cried and cried until you woke up back at home. You didn’t see a point of going to Twisted Wonderland anymore if you weren’t ever going to see your best friend again.
A few years pass after that, and true to your heartbroken thoughts, you never teleported to Twisted Wonderland since then. Perhaps your powers have ties to your feelings, or something along the lines of that, but you didn’t care. Anytime memories of him resurfaced in your mind, you just tried to pretend it was just all a dream you made up. “Cater isn’t real.”, you mumble to yourself one day as you’re walking to school, “He’s just some guy I made up because I had no friends in middle school.”, you let out a bitter chuckle. “How silly of me to think that I’ll ever have what my parents ha-…AAH!”
…
“Ow, my head…”, you grumble, not realizing that you just got ran over by a horse and carriage. You look around, noticing that you’re definitely not on the sidewalk leading to your school anymore. You were in the middle of what looked like a garden, a garden that seemed like it was in the middle of hosting a tea party. It reminded you of a movie you watched some time ago, but before you could try and remember what it was, you hear loud, concerned yelling. It sounded like they’ve been going at it since before you started tuning in. You figured after a minute that they were making all that fuss about you. Something about ‘another magicless prefect’ a word about you just falling out of the sky, then two boys run up to you.
One has green hair, the other had the most familiar, warm, friendly, and coolest shade of orange you’ve ever seen. You had only seen that color on one other person before…but no. It’s impossible. You can’t be in Twisted Wonderland, you don’t have real traveling powers. And that for sure CANNOT be Cater Diamond. He’s just an imaginary friend, imaginary friends aren’t real…unless they really aren’t imaginary. You slowly stand up and dust yourself off as they approach you. You and the orange haired boy lock eyes on each other as soon as they reach you, your expression completely shocked, while Cater also looked shocked, he also looked amazed and a little emotional. Then you both say in unison, “It’s you again!”
More Notes: In the middle of writing this I got so many memories of my past friends, bro omg💔💔 I STILL don’t know about those mfs whereabouts and I miss them sm, but anyways… Stan Cater, he’s so cool💕 Also idk if the pacing felt weird, or it felt like it went too fast or something, if it did lmk, I loved writing this but idk how to feel about it.
fempov, childhood friends to lovers, midsummer's eve festival, ritual spells/traditional magic?
a/n: I really made silver a yearner in this one. sorry it took me like three months to write. I also made up like. a lot of stuff about Briar Valley that's probably not true sorry guys. the seven flower spell is a real tradition though i'm pretty sure
do not use my work in a dataset or to train AI
𐙚˚ ༘❀⋆ ༘⋆✿
Briar Valley’s festivals were a sight to behold, rivaling even the Queendom of Roses’ elaborate celebrations in scope and joy. Streamers fluttered in the breeze, a riot of color, while in the streets below shopkeepers magically polished the cobblestones in front of their stores. The true festivities wouldn’t begin until dusk, but many vendors had begun to set up early, raising simple wooden structures and daintily arranging advertising signs and tiers of tarts and platters of pastries.
The Midsummer’s Eve festival in particular was one of the biggest celebrations of the year, and it was also Silver’s especial favorite. The event itself was spectacular on its own. He enjoyed the elderflower wine and rose cakes, even though Lilia kept an eye on how much he consumed — heh, that’s fae food, my boy, you’ll make yourself sick — and liked the bonfires and dancing. But what he liked most about it was that it was your favorite holiday, taking the opportunity to get into as much mischief as possible, teasing him in a torturous way only a girl raised among fae could manage.
“I like watching you chase after me,” you’d said once, laughing in his face when he finally caught up after you’d led him on a wild romp through the streets of Briar Valley. Silver’s arms had gone slack with shock, heat rising to his cheeks, and he only had a moment to contemplate what you’d said before you slipped away from him again.
“SILVER. SILVER!”
Several shopkeepers near them flinched. Silver just sighed, slowing to allow Sebek to fall into step beside him, shoulders yanked so far back his posture looked almost painful.
“You ought to keep your voice down,” Silver reprimanded gently.
“AHEM.” Sebek’s cheeks turned faintly pink before he straightened up to fix Silver with a stern glare. “YOU…You must take care to keep an eye on Lady [Name] this year.”
What? Silver blinked, swiveling to look at Sebek. “Lady?” How laughable — you, a lady. You’d cry laughing if you heard Sebek refer to you as such, no doubt. After all, what sort of lady went stomping through the woods to hunt him down when he overslept their meetings? What sort of lady drank too much at the Midsummer festival and threw up in the fountain? Instead of caving to his instinct to laugh incredulously, Silver swallowed his automatic outburst. “When did you start calling her that?”
“IT IS CUSTOM.” Sebek lifted his chin proudly, clearly pleased that he knew something Silver didn’t. “IN BRIAR VALLEY, ONCE A GIRL REACHES THE AGE OF SEVENTEEN, SHE SHOULD BE REFERRED TO AS ‘LADY’.”
“…Right,” Silver said tactfully. He tried to remember if the crocodile half-fae had been getting tutoring from Riddle lately — they were sounding eerily alike. The whole idea seemed ridiculous to him, but doubt tugged at the edge of his mind; was that truly Briar Valley custom? Silver was so far removed from the fae populace, venturing only into the capital to train at the castle or into your village to placate your wheedling. Otherwise, he spent his time in the forest with Father and the animals. Perhaps he had simply missed that particular point of etiquette. “Where did you hear that?”
“MASTER LILIA.”
Ah. Perhaps Sebek was mistaken after all. “And you believed him?”
Before Sebek could get himself all up in arms about that comment, a body crashed into Silver with so much force that for a moment he wondered if he was under attack. Although, he reflected, perhaps he ought to be used to this sort of treatment after years of such abuse.
“Hello,” he said, and even in that one word he couldn’t keep the fondness from his voice. “Are you having a good summer?”
“Don’t ask me stupid questions,” came your grumbled response, your face tucked into your shoulder, your arms around his waist making it a struggle to breathe. “You coming home is the best part, and you’ve been away with Malleus this whole time.”
The best part. The words had a sweet ring to them, and Silver knew he would be hearing them in his dreams for the next few months. “I missed you too.”
Sebek’s lecture was thus cut abruptly short as you stole Silver away, laughing as you led him down the winding paths of your little town. He could only see your back, your hair trailing behind you like a banner in the wind, but the sight somehow made his heart race faster than any of tonight’s activities would be able to. “Is that a new dress?”
“Do you like it?” Your face was alight with happiness. It was far too easy to make you happy, Silver thought, and far too easy to make his heart stumble in his chest. Just one compliment could bring you joy, when you could demand the world and deserve it too. “My dad got it for me while you were away. I’ve been saving it for Midsummer’s.”
“I do like it,” he said honestly, observing all of the details — the silver embroidery, the pearl-colored satin sash. It reminded him of the dress you wore the first time he’d met you, almost the same shade of blue, only this time made for a young lady rather than a child. “I don’t think Father puts nearly as much effort into my clothing.”
“I’m sure he could if you asked.”
Silver remembered the day he turned fourteen and was violently ill because Lilia thought baking the birthday cake at 300 degrees for ten minutes could substitute for baking it at 175 for forty-five, being short on time. A for Effort, he supposed. “…Maybe,” he said noncommittally. “But are you planning to make me run around all night again?”
“Well, of course.” Lethal, that smile.
“Then there’s no point for me in wearing nice clothes.”
“No, I’m sorry—“
The two of you fell into an easy rhythm as you wandered through the cobblestone streets, pointing out stalls that you wanted to visit later — sweets, fabric, leather care, powdered pastries, sword maintenance, curry puffs, enchanted objects.
“A girdle that makes the wearer more beautiful,” you read off a tag, scoffing. “Who let this hack into the market? Everyone knows that beauty spells are hardly reliable.”
Privately, Silver thought the girdle would be wasted on you. “I can let Malleus know if you have any objections.”
“Please don’t. I said the shopkeeper is a hack, not that I wanted them obliterated.”
“Malleus isn’t that bad,” Silver sighed. Despite his best efforts, you and everyone else he knew remained scared of him. Teaching the animals to grow more comfortable around him had been a struggle, but people were a whole other beast. “He’s really very kind if you get to know him.”
A bluebird chirped in agreement, tiny claws pricking at his skin through his shirt as it leaped down from a banner to light on his shoulder. Silver stroked the top of its head with the pad of his finger absentmindedly. “Have you been good?” He murmured, too quiet for you to hear, smiling gently as the bird let out a pleased twitter. “You’ve been looking after my girl for me?”
Silver had had the animals looking out for you since he left for Night Raven College his freshman year — he didn’t want you to get lonely, after all.
What a fight it had been. He remembered you, just fifteen, refusing to speak to him for weeks after he’d gotten his acceptance letter. Silver tried everything — sending you messages, leaving sweets from your favorite confectionery on your doorstep, coming in-person to beg an audience with you. He’d even made the fatal mistake of writing to Father for advice. Lilia had gone to the trouble of returning to Briar Valley in the middle of the school year for the sole purpose, it seemed, of being an utter nightmare.
“My boy is in love!” He’d wailed, hovering a foot off the ground, nearly choking Silver in a back hug while Silver tried in vain to shake him off.
“No I’m not, Father, stop it—“
In the end, Lilia had doused him in water (you need to look more pathetic) and handed him a bouquet of flowers (do you know her favorite flowers? No? My son doesn’t know the art of romance, I’ve failed as a father). Silver’s neck and cheeks were glowing red with embarrassment standing outside of your house, but apparently Lilia’s advice held some truth, because you opened the door after weeks of freezing him out.
“Why are you wet?”
“Shower,” Silver said. It was a stupid lie — even his clothes were wet — but what else could he say? “Can I come in?”
“I guess.”
Normally, Silver would try to say hello to your family, as a proper knight(in training) should when in the home of a lady, but now he had no choice but to follow you like a lost, soaking wet dog. He closed the bedroom door behind him, looking down at his shoes.
Silver took a deep breath, holding out the flowers in front of him like an offering or a shield. “I’m…sorry…?” What to apologize for? Getting into school? He felt ridiculous, and a little irritated, but the agony of losing your company had long won out over his pride.
You stared at the bouquet for a long moment before pushing his hand aside. Before Silver could think to get frustrated, or upset, you flew up off the bed and launched yourself at him, sending you both crashing into the opposite wall. Silver blinked down at you, too stunned to move, when he realized you were hugging him tightly.
“I’m sorry for being so stupid,” you mumbled, arms snaking around his waist. “I just…didn’t want you to go.”
Silver’s hands fluttered uselessly at his sides before settling for wrapping his arms around you in return, pressing his cheek against the top of your head. “I’ll write all the time.”
“I know.”
“And I’ll come back every break.”
“I know.”
“And Sebek will be here to keep you company.”
“Sebek isn’t you.”
That did something awful to him. Fortunately, you seemed too busy pulling him ever closer to notice the erratic flip-flop of his heart in his chest.
“I won’t forget about you. Don’t forget about me too, okay?”
Like there was any chance of that happening. Here you were, three years later, your arm linked through his as you told him all the gossip in Briar Valley — who had gotten married, who had eloped, who had begun courting, who had been caught poaching chickens from their neighbor’s coop.
You let go of his arm to wander off the road into the grass, picking flowers as you went: white daisies, cobalt delphinium, ochre marigolds. Your fingers were sticky and green with sap, and Silver stepped forward to take the slowly growing bundle from your hands, bending to pick a few flowers of his own.
“Getting started a little late, aren’t you?” He mused, watching the sun sink towards the horizon. The ferns tugged at the hem of your dress as you threw a handful of grass at him in retaliation.
“So? You haven’t started on your flower crown either,” you pointed out, tucking another sprig of daisy into Silver’s hands. “Don’t worry, I’ll make yours for you.”
“I can make my own,” Silver protested, following you down to sit on the grass as you tugged him to a halt, your skirts spread around you like a pool of water. The setting sun glinted off of your bowed head as you bent over the beginning of your wreath, deft hands weaving stems together and tucking leaves in for more volume. Your hands were made of magic; you created such beautiful things. Perhaps that was why Silver was a knight — to defend them.
When you pulled a ribbon from your pocket, fraying at the ends, he startled and stopped you with a gentle touch to the wrist. “Is that…the ribbon I bought you?”
You pinked, fixing your eyes firmly on the flower crown as you used the ribbon to secure the ends in place. “It’s a perfectly good ribbon, why wouldn’t I still have it?”
“It’s been more than five years,” Silver said, shaking his head, cheeks heating up in return. “It’s a little thing. I would have thought you’d have lost it.”
You said nothing, but finished tying the ribbon before starting on Silver’s crown.
“I can do it,” Silver said gently, taking its fragile start from your hands. He gathered the remaining flowers from your lap, braiding them into a wreath, perhaps not as nice as yours, but good enough. He tucked its loose ends back into itself, though there was no telling if it would last the night. Letting it rest on his lap, he lifted yours from your grasp and set it gently atop your head, adjusting it until the ribbon hung at the back and the fullest flowers crowned your brow at the front. “You look lovely, [Name].”
You returned the gesture, setting his own flower crown on his head. “And you look very handsome,” you said, voice barely above a whisper.
Around you, crickets chirped faintly in the fields beyond. One by one, fireflies lit and lifted from the snares of grass, drifting towards the dusky blue sky like wandering stars. The last slivers of sun peeking over the horizon glimmered in your eyes, lighting on your cheeks and sweet mouth.
“[Name].”
You blinked up at him, sweet face turned to his like a flower towards the sun. “Yes?”
“I…” He swallowed, one hand twitching with the ache to reach for your face, to tilt your chin up and—
“SILVER!”
Damn it all. He jerked back, turning to watch Sebek wave furiously from the top of the hill. He took a deep breath, nostrils flaring as he tried to will away his blush. “What is it, Sebek?”
“THE FESTIVITIES ARE STARTING. OF COURSE YOU AND LADY [NAME] WOULD NOT WANT TO MISS THEM!”
You snorted. “Lady?”
“Don’t ask.” Silver called back up: “Alright, we’re coming.”
Satisfied, Sebek disappeared back over the hill. Silver pushed himself up onto his feet with a grunt, holding out a hand to you. “Come on, then. I’m sure you’re looking toward to everything too.”
You placed your hand in his and let him tug you to your feet. Unfortunately, Silver had misjudged his strength and sent you stumbling into him, crashing into his chest with a soft oof. “Oh!” You patted his chest, a little startled, before stepping back. “You’re sturdier than I remember.”
Damn it all, Silver thought, grateful the dark disguised his blush as the two of you walked back towards the town square. He’d been so distracted out there in the meadow that he didn’t realize the Midsummer’s Eve festival was already in full swing, a band plucking away at their instruments near the fountain, couples clasping each other to their chests as they danced. The light of the bonfire traced your features with affectionate warmth as you drifted at the edge of the activities, flitting from stall to stall. Green fireflies twirled a lazy waltz overhead; Silver wondered what Malleus and Father were up to. Perhaps they were watching from the shadows, or busy with their own celebrations.
Your arms were already loaded with free food and trinkets by the time Silver snapped out of his reverie and caught up to you again. You held a curry puff in your mouth as you juggled everything else; Silver reached up to gently take it out of your mouth.
“Are you just going to collect things all night?”
“Of course not, I’ll dance in a bit,” you refuted, ducking your head to take a bite of the curry puff in his hand. “And you’re coming with me.”
Silver startled, turning his head to blink at you. The two of you did this every Midsummer’s Eve, but it never stopped him from being surprised — though he was bold enough to call himself good, he wouldn’t consider himself an exceptional dancer. “Am I?”
“Well, who else would I dance with?” You snorted. “Sebek? No thanks.”
“Sebek is a good man,” Silver defended, though his lips twitched. “But I see your point.”
You set aside the rest of your things — no point in being jealous over them when the vendors were giving their wares away — and leaped lightly to your feet, blue dress swishing around your calves with a sound like rustling leaves. “Come on.”
Silver’s heart skipped in his chest, and he drew himself up to his full height, eyes twinkling down at you. Slowly, maintaining eye contact, he took your hand and lowered himself into a bow over it. He was a knight (in training) after all; he had a code of chivalry to uphold. “[Name], may I have this dance?”
You laughed, and Silver enjoyed the flush on your cheeks. “You may.”
He tugged you into the cluster of dancers in the center of the square, one hand holding yours, the other resting lightly at your waist. You and him both misstepped clumsily — it had been a while since you danced, after all — but fell back into the natural rhythm of it quickly enough. How could you not, when your bodies were so attuned to each other? Silver had learned to dance from Lilia, and you had learned to dance from Silver.
[Name], stop trying to — ack!
You stepped forward with too much enthusiasm, accidentally tripping Silver and sending you both tumbling to the forest floor.
Oww…sorry.
Silver sat up, rubbing his shoulder where he’d fell. It’s okay, he said with stoic, noble fourteen-year-old dedication. Learning to dance is a process.
You spun away from him, skirt and hair flaring gold in the firelight before he tugged you back to his chest with a soft chuckle. “We’ve improved, haven’t we?”
“I suppose we have,” you agreed, following the pattern of the other dancers as they moved counter-clockwise around the fountain, petals flaking from your flower crown like snow. Eyes fixed on your face, Silver hardly wanted to blink for fear of losing a moment, but he could hear where his sight was limited.
“Silver’s back for the summer, I see.”
“They’re dancing? How cute.”
“They’ve been inseparable since they were children, he guards her like she’s royalty…”
You were royalty, to him, or at least worth just as much. You were you, lovely and sweet. Better than any princess, in his opinion.
The two of you spun under the stars for what felt like hours, or what could have been a few days — time was fickle in Briar Valley, and moreso during the holidays. Eventually, though, Silver noticed your flushed cheeks and the slight gasp to your breath, and coaxed you to take a break.
You pulled away from the circle of dancers, flopping down. “I forgot how tiring it can be, dancing with fae.”
Silver was inclined to agree — even with his rigorous training, his feet were sore from the constant movement. The fae could be capricious at times, and Silver had heard many a story of their drawing humans into their balls and festivals to dance them to death. “Take a rest.”
The two of you sat in companionable silence for a while, your head slowly drifting to rest comfortably on his shoulder while you fiddled with a paper fan you’d been gifted at one of the stalls. Despite his quickening heartbeat, Silver found himself drifting off, the flickering firelight lulling him into a doze, and finally into sleep proper.
When he woke, you were nowhere to be found. The festivities were beginning to wind down, vendors packing up their stalls and couples heading home. With a sleepy hum, he stood up, going in search of you. You were still around here, of course — you would never leave without waking him to let him know.
He found you at the bottom of the hill where you’d made the flower crowns, bending gracefully, arms curved like scythes as you plucked feathers from their stems. The jealous moon had taken over from the sun and fire, glimmering a pearl sheen on your skin as you straightened, holding a tiny bundle of flowers in your hands.
“What have you got there?” Silver asked, coming down the hill behind you to peer over your shoulder.
“Seven flowers, picked in silence,” you explained with dreamy eyes, rubbing a thumb over a petal. “For the seven-flower spell.”
“The what?”
“It’s a spell that all the unwed girls do at Midsummer’s. You pick seven flowers in silence and put them under your pillow before you go to sleep, and you’ll dream of your true love.”
Silver’s heart thrummed. “Have you ever tried it?”
You shook your head. “No, but I’m curious, this year. I thought I’d try it once, and skip it next year if it’s just a silly superstition.”
Don’t do it, he wanted to say, but what was the point? Nothing could stop you once you’d gotten an idea in your head, he knew that well enough. Besides, what would he say to stop you? He had no claim over your affection. “Well, then…”
He swallowed, jaw working as he summoned his courage. “May I kiss you?” He asked, voice barely above a whisper. “Before you find your true love.”
You looked at him for a long, long moment, and he wished he could reel the words back into his mouth, if only to spare himself the agony of waiting. In the dark, he almost imagined that your face flushed a brilliant ruby hue. Then you stepped toward him, stood up on tiptoes, and pressed a featherlight kiss to his cheek.
“Goodnight, Silver,” you said softly. Then you were gone.
Silver stood in the field for a long time, head tilted back to stare up at the sky in defeat. That was as clear an answer as he could have asked for.
He knew he should return home, but the night had left him exhausted, and he lay down in the grass, trying to will away the stabbing in his chest. He couldn’t think, nearly breathless with the pain of it all. For once, sleep was a relief, pulling him down, down, down.
The sky was pale blue, then cotton-candy pink, then jade green. On second thought, it wasn’t a sky at all, for he couldn’t see the ground. The dream corridor stretched out before him, hazy impressions of birds vanishing down its depths in his mind’s eye. Silver didn’t want to go anywhere tonight, but he spoke the words for his spell on instinct — or maybe he thought them. Perhaps Lilia would dream of his childhood, and he could allow himself to be comforted by his father.
Those I’ve met and will someday…Meet in a Dream.
Silver followed the birds, half walking, half drifting down the dreamway. After a lifetime and a heartbeat, the clouds began to materialize into shapes and objects, a forest, a town, a fountain, a figure.
You.
You were heartbreakingly lovely in a pale pink gown — or perhaps it was blue? — sitting at the edge of the fountain. In your hands were the seven flowers you had picked earlier that evening, your pinched fingers plucking the petals off.
“He loves me, he loves me not…” On you continued, on and on, while Silver watched just beyond the threshold of your dream. How could he go to you now, after what he’d asked of you tonight? And yet he couldn’t resist…
You dropped the last petal in the fountain. “He loves me…?”
Silver stepped into the dream.
You raised your eyes to his, and for just a moment, he thought he saw in them unbridled, unfettered joy. As soon as his foot alighted on the cobblestone of your dream-town, it all vanished like smoke.
“-lver? Silver!”
He startled, waking to find you kneeling at his side, eyes shimmering with tears. Automatically he reached for you to brush them away — even now, he couldn’t stand to see you cry. But as soon as he lifted his arms, you threw yourself into him, the two of you crushed together on the grass.
“…[Name]?” He hardly dared to hope, and yet—
“It was you,” you laughed, face buried in his shoulder. Your hair was loose and free — you must have come straight from sleeping. “I was right, it was you all along.”
He stared down at you, heart thrashing against his ribcage like a pinned bird. “I don’t understand—“
“I did the spell,” you explained, laughing all the while. You couldn’t seem to stop. The rising sun turned the sky blood orange and pink. Peachy clouds circled your head far above like a halo. “I did the spell, and you were there.”
Silver wondered if he wasn’t still dreaming, his delirious mind conjuring up a few final moments of happiness before he died of heartbreak out there on the field. “You — but you know that was just my magic—“
You scoffed, leaning on your forearms on his chest to look down at him. “You idiot, you think I care? It doesn’t matter how you show up in my dream. It was still you. It’s you.”
The ground fell out from under Silver. He could have died then and there, and died happy, too. “You’re certain?” He asked again. He was being ridiculous. This whole situation was ridiculous. “You don’t mind?”
You shook your head again, smiling so wide your eyes closed. You were still laughing when he surged up to kiss your soft mouth.
Summary: Alastor and the reader were married in life. Then he got killed. They're reunited when the reader gets sent to hell but her appearance as a sinner eerily resembles angels in heaven. Read part 1 here. Part 2 here. Part 3 here. Part 4 here.
Alastor had never fussed this much before leaving for a meeting.
You stood just outside his room, straightening your own feathers while he hovered around you like a manic hummingbird in a three-piece suit.
“My dear,” he said, smoothing your collar for the fifth time, “do remain here. In the hotel. With the doors locked. And don’t answer any knocks. Or speak to strangers. Or step into any contract circles. And if Angel Dust tries anything suspicious...”
“I’ll be careful,” you promised, touching his arm.
He melted. Which was why he leaned in and kissed your forehead. And your cheek. And the corner of your mouth.
And then, embarrassingly, your temple, jaw, shoulder, and both hands like he was blessing relics.
“Alastor,” you laughed softly. “You’re going to be late.”
He ignored that. Instead, he pressed his forehead to yours, voice low and firm. “Stay here. I will return shortly. No harm will come to you. I swear it.”
“I know.”
He cupped your face, thumb brushing your skin with desperation. “I can’t lose you again.”
You kissed his palm. “You won’t.”
Only then, begrudgingly, did he force himself to leave, back straighter and smile sharper as he stepped into the hall.
Rosie was already lounging elegantly, sipping tea from a porcelain cup worth more than several souls combined. She gave no reaction whatsoever to Alastor’s arrival. Or to the fact that he had a wife again. Rosie knew everything and cared about less than a half of it.
“Morning, sugar,” she greeted lazily. “Wife doin’ well?”
Velvette glared daggers the moment he walked in. Valentino’s eye twitched. Vox looked like he was buffering.
“You,” Vox hissed, “have some explaining to do.”
Alastor adjusted his tie. “Do I?”
Velvette stomped a heel. “YES, YOU DO.”
Valentino crossed his arms. “You stole something. YOUR PROPERTY? Your…your…whatever she is.”
Alastor tilted his head. “My wife?”
Rosie chuckled into her teacup. “He means they were about to bulldoze the poor girl into a contract.”
Alastor’s smile sharpened. “Yes, I noticed.”
Vox slammed his hand on the table. “Who...WHAT...is she?!”
Alastor blinked. “My wife.”
“No,” Vox snapped, “you don’t get it. She’s not a normal sinner. She doesn’t look like a sinner. She doesn’t act like one. She looks like a fallen angel or a disguised power...or some kind of ancient entity in a mortal shell!”
Velvette nodded rigorously. “Yeah! No offense but you don’t exactly attract normal people.”
Rosie sipped. “He did once.”
Alastor ignored all of them with malicious serenity.
Vox leaned forward, voice dropping into conspiratorial paranoia. “Did you make a deal? With her? For her? Did someone from Heaven send her? Is she binding your soul? Is this some old ritual from your life? Are you...OH MY GOD...did you make a pact with a cherub?!”
Alastor’s eye twitched.
Just a little.
Rosie noticed and grinned.
“Vincent,” Alastor said pleasantly, “you are spiraling.”
“ANSWER ME!”
Alastor folded his hands, elbows on the table. “My wife is exactly what she appears to be. An ordinary sinner.”
Vox screamed internally.
“That’s impossible,” he spat. “She’s too...too...too nice. Too clean. Too bright. Too...OPPOSITE OF YOU.”
Valentino muttered, “Yeah, what kinda woman willingly marries you?”
Rosie raised her hand. “A very lucky one.”
Alastor nodded. “Indeed.”
Velvette threw her hands up. “This is BULLSHIT.”
Vox leaned back, fingers drumming rapidly, clearly rewriting entire conspiracy boards in his head.
“You’re hiding something,” he muttered. “And I’m going to find out.”
Alastor’s smile sharpened into something cruel and delighted.
“Oh, do try,” he purred. “I’ll enjoy watching you fail.”
Rosie laughed so hard she nearly spilled her tea.
Vox had spent the entire overlord meeting with one obsessive, vibrating thought:
“I need to know what she is.”
So the moment the meeting ended, he retreated to his massive neon tower, marching into the surveillance chamber like a televangelist about to perform an exorcism on live TV.
“Camera teams!” he barked. “Deploy micro-drones into the Hazbin Hotel. I want eyes on her. I want audio. I want EVERYTHING.”
A terrified tech demon saluted. “Y-yes, sir!”
“And send one of our field agents,” Vox added. “Someone discreet. Someone who won’t get emotionally compromised. Someone heartless.”
Three demons immediately backed away.
“…Uh,” one muttered, “sir, we don’t have anyone like that. It’s the Hazbin Hotel. It…changes people. Like with that snake...”
Vox growled. “Just pick the meanest intern and THROW HIM.”
Within minutes, a spy drone zipped into the hotel and instantly caught you in the kitchen, humming to yourself while making tea.
The feed showed you adjusting your little apron, wings fluffing absently as you searched for honey.
You found it and smiled.
Vox felt his circuits glitch.
“Is she...she’s...she’s being adorable on purpose,” he muttered. “It’s a trap. IT HAS TO BE A TRAP.”
But then you whispered to yourself:
“Alastor will want cinnamon in his. He likes cinnamon.”
The drone made a small, mechanical whirr of emotional damage.
The intern monitoring the feed sniffed. “She’s…so considerate…”
Vox slapped him. “SHE IS A SINNER, DAMNIT! STAY STRONG.”
But it was too late.
The drone physically fell out of the air and landed on the countertop in front of you.
“Oh, hello?” you said kindly.
The drone made a weak beep…be-beep like a dying Roomba.
You gently picked it up, dusted it off, and set it in a spoon rest so it wouldn’t fall again.
“There you go. Try to be careful, little guy.”
The drone’s camera wobbled. It emitted one soft ping of pure devotion.
The intern started sobbing.
“WHY IS SHE NICE TO OUR EQUIPMENT?! WHO DOES THAT?!”
Vox screamed.
The field agent demon Vox had sent, meanest intern, name: Trudge, crept into the hotel through a cracked window with a tiny notepad.
He expected danger.
Death.
Hellishly powerful sinners.
Instead he found you in the lobby, reading a book with your wings tucked neatly around you.
You looked up, startled. “Oh! Do you work here? Are you lost? Can I help you find something?”
Trudge felt his entire worldview collapse like a wet cardboard box.
“I...uh...I...are...uh...do...you...want...uh...water?” he stammered.
You blinked, confused. “I can get my own water, but thank you.”
“I’LL BRING YOU SOME ANYWAY,” he squeaked, sprinting to the kitchen.
Vox, watching the feed, slammed his head into the monitor.
“NO! NO KINDNESS! STOP IT! DON’T LET HER GET TO YOU!”
Trudge ran back with a glass of water, panting. “Is this okay?”
You smiled. “That’s really sweet. Thank you.”
Trudge burst into tears.
“I’M SO SORRY I BROKE IN! YOU’RE TOO NICE! WHY ARE YOU SO NICE?! WHY DID VOX MAKE ME SPY ON YOU?! I CAN’T DO THIS. YOU’RE LIKE A SUNBEAM WITH FEATHERS...”
Vox shrieked so loud the screen cracked.
“GET A HOLD OF YOURSELF, INTERN! SHE IS NOT YOUR FRIEND!”
Trudge curled into a ball on the floor, sobbing. “She said thank you…Vox never thanks us. I can't remember the last time someone said thank you to me.”
Unfortunately for Trudge, Alastor arrived.
He stepped out of a shadow with a voice like a violin tuned to menace.
“My, my…”
His smile widened, teeth gleaming.
“…It seems I’ve acquired uninvited guests.”
Trudge froze.
The drone fried itself.
A dozen other hidden cameras around the hotel crackled, sparked, and combusted in terror as Alastor’s aura filled the room.
Vox screamed over the monitor:
“ALASTOR, WAIT, LET’S NEGOTIATE...”
Alastor reached out and crushed the last functioning drone in one elegant hand.
Static filled the feed.
He looked directly through the screen. Smiling.
“Do keep your eyes to yourself, old chap.”
Vox watched as every single screen in the surveillance room flickered, distorted, and finally melted.
Vox stood in the dark, trembling, hands shaking so hard his neon frame glitched.
“WHAT...WHAT...WHAT IS SHE?!”
From the shadows behind him, Velvette muttered:
“Someone Alastor’s obsessed with.”
Valentino nodded solemnly. “Someone we should leave alone.”
Vox hissed. “You don’t get it. He never loved anyone. Not like that. And she...she...she just smiles and people fall in love with her!”
Velvette snorted. “For once, Voxie, maybe you should stop poking the demon radio man.”
Vox shook, staring at the melted screens.
“…I need stronger cameras.”
You woke beneath the weight of a warm, long arm draped over your waist.
Alastor had wound himself around you sometime in the night, one leg hooked over yours, chin pressed to the back of your head, breath warm against your nape. He was…humming. Happily. Sleepily. Like some content animal hiding its face in its favorite blanket.
You shifted slightly.
He immediately tightened his hold.
“Mm, good morning, my dear…” His voice was still gravel-soft from sleep. “Going somewhere?”
“I was just trying to stretch…”
“You can stretch here,” he murmured, squeezing you, burying his face against your shoulder like he intended to fuse with you permanently.
The affection hit you too quickly. Your pulse fluttered.
Oh no.
Your wings flicked.
Just a tremor, just a little twitch, just a ripple of heat running down your spine. But Alastor’s hand tightened at exactly the wrong moment, pulling you in, and the sudden, overwhelming flush of embarrassment shot through you like lightning.
Your wings exploded open.
WHAP!
The left wing smacked into the wall with a loud thud.
The right wing smacked directly into Alastor’s face.
There was a muffled “…oof!”
You whipped around in horror. “Alastor! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean, my wings just...!”
He was flat on his back now, hair mussed, antlers crooked from the impact, his expression dazed.
And then he burst out laughing.
Actual laughter: bright, delighted, startled. A sound you had rarely heard when he was alive, and even less since his death.
“Well!” he wheezed, adjusting his crooked antlers, “I certainly didn’t expect to be assaulted this early in the morning.”
“I didn’t assault! My wings have a mind of their own, I swear.”
“Oh I gathered.” He propped himself on an elbow, still chuckling, still blinking bits of feather fluff off his eyelashes. “Though I must say, if you wished to make a dramatic gesture of waking me, a simple shake would have sufficed.”
Your face burned. “You squeezed me!”
“And you reacted quite beautifully.” His grin turned sly. “I had no idea you could do that, little dove.”
“Alastor.”
“Yes?”
“Stop looking so pleased.”
He only laughed more, reaching to gently gather your wings closer so they wouldn’t keep flaring. He touched them reverently, smoothing a feather with his thumb.
You were too flustered to move.
He tilted his head.
“Does it happen every time you get flustered?”
“No!”
Your wings immediately twitched.
He looked delighted. “Oh-ho.”
“Don’t you dare.”
He dared.
He immediately pulled you into his chest again, whispering shamelessly, “My sweet, sweet wife…”
Your wings shot out again. WHAP!
He fell off the side of the bed this time.
A thud.
A muffled, pained laugh.
“My dear,” he groaned from the floor, “you may be the death of me all over again.”
You crawled to the edge, mortified. “Alastor, I’m so...”
He peeked up at you with ruined hair and the most besotted grin you’d ever seen.
“No apologies. None at all.” He reached up and tapped your nose. “It’s delightful.”
“What part of this is delightful?”
“You,” he said simply. “Being flustered. Being yourself. Being here.”
Your wings, of course, reacted.
He braced an arm over his head and shouted through a laugh:
“Feathers incoming!”
You tried to ignore it. The next day, the first thing you felt when you woke up was the weight across your waist, his arm tightening as if your movement set off some internal alarm.
He murmured something into your hair, your name, stretched tender like warm caramel, and then, without opening his eyes, hauled you closer with a sleepy strength that made your spine pop.
“Good morning, my little lark,” he mumbled, voice muffled and uncharacteristically soft. “Don’t go flying off without me…”
“I wasn’t going anywhere,” you whispered, trying not to laugh.
“Mmh. Good.” His nose nudged the back of your ear. “You’ll stay and be charming with me, won’t you?”
You shied helplessly, which was the exact wrong thing to do, because your wings reacted immediately.
They snapped open behind you: too large, too luminous, too feathery for the narrow bed.
FWUMPH.
One wing slammed squarely into Alastor’s chest, sending the Radio Demon toppling unceremoniously off the mattress and onto the floor with an “oof” and a startled burst of static.
You choked. “Alastor!”
From the floor came the unmistakable sound of him laughing.
Not his polite chuckle. Not his dangerous I-might-kill-somebody amusement.
A real, helpless, delighted laugh.
“Marvelous!” he wheezed, crawling back onto the bed. His grin was huge, wild, and boyish. “My dear, if you wished to sweep me off my feet, you could simply ask.”
“Stop provoking me.”
“Ah-ah,” he said, tapping your nose. “They respond to emotion. Perfectly natural. Perfectly adorable.” His smirk sharpened. “And very informative.”
You hid your face, which made the wings twitch again.
He laughed harder.
He gathered you up in his arms again, deliberately threading his fingers through the nearest wing. “Now then,” he purred, “before the day begins…give me another reaction.”
“Alastor.”
“I insist.”
And he absolutely insisted, kisses along your cheek, your shoulder, the back of your neck, every one sending your wings flicking and startling and fanning until one finally whacked him again, at which point he collapsed dramatically across your lap like you’d mortally wounded him.
You were still laughing when he sat up and announced:
“Training. Immediately.”
This was how you ended up asking everyone else for help before admitting you needed Alastor.
You tried Vaggie first.
Vaggie squinted, grabbed your wing, flared it out with clinical precision, and tried to explain muscle movements that you simply didn’t have.
Finally she sighed. “Okay, try…uh…lifting from the scapular junction and no, not like that, that’s just your shoulder.”
You tried again.
“No, that’s still shoulder.”
Another attempt.
“That’s…still shoulder.”
After ten minutes she stepped back, defeated. “I don’t know how to help you. I was born with wings. I didn’t even learn them, they just worked.”
Husk’s contribution was worse.
He stared at your wings, took a long drag of his cigar, and said, “Just leap off something tall. Your instincts’ll kick in. Probably.”
“Probably?” you repeated, horrified.
“Eh. Pain teaches.”
Alastor appeared out of nowhere behind you with a murderous smile.
“I knew,” he said sweetly, “that consulting Husker would be a mistake.”
Husk flicked ash. “She asked.”
“And you answered. Tragically.”
Lucifer, of course, was out of the question, Alastor made sure of that. The one time the Morningstar had even looked at your wings, Alastor pulled you behind him like you were a rare artifact on loan and Lucifer was a museum thief.
Lucifer just grinned. “Relax. I’m only admiring. Baby wings are adorable.”
“They are not baby wings,” Alastor hissed, then whisked you away like a Victorian husband offended on his wife’s behalf.
Back to his room, he circled you like a ballet instructor preparing to reshape your entire skeleton.
“Stand tall, sweetheart,” he said. “Wings relaxed. Shoulders down. Don’t hunch, you’re not a frightened dove.”
“I’m trying.”
“Good. Now extend.”
You tried to flare your wings gracefully.
What happened: they unfurled unevenly, twisted at the midpoint, and knocked a lamp over.
Alastor caught the lamp midair and set it down without looking, his smile beaming with the kind of pride parents usually reserved for a child’s first steps.
“You’re magnificent.”
“I almost destroyed hotel property.”
“A minor triumph.”
He moved behind you, hands gentle at the bases of your wings, guiding their angle with terrifying care. His voice lowered, rich and coaxing.
“There. Feel that tension? Breathe with it. Don’t force the movement, invite it.”
You did.
The wings lifted in a trembling, luminous arch.
Alastor’s breath hitched.
“Oh,” he murmured. “You have no idea how exquisite you are.”
You flustered.
Your wings spread further.
He made a noise so helplessly fond it practically broke something in the room.
Then he snapped into instructor mode again.
“Now, fold.”
You folded.
“Now, flare.”
You flared.
Several times you hit him.
He didn’t stop smiling.
You hadn’t accessed much of your Hell-given abilities yet, but they were emerging in strange ways. As Alastor tested your wings’ balance, he noticed one.
“Hm,” he said. “Your aura shifts when you’re frightened.”
“That’s not a power.”
“Observe.”
He stepped back, flicked off the lights, and the room immediately filled with a soft glow, your glow. Whitish-gold, the color of early dawn, floating from your skin like smoke.
You startled. The glow brightened.
Alastor gasped. “Oh, that’s delicious.”
“Alastor...”
“This is angelic resonance,” he breathed. “You can mesmerize. Not through violence, but through overwhelming calm. Affection. Serenity.”
“That’s not useful in Hell.”
He looked personally offended. “My dear, half of Hell’s population would collapse if someone simply told them they were proud of them.”
“Alastor!”
“In fact, I suspect you could subdue even powerful demons if you wanted to. All without lifting a finger. A form of emotional paralysis. Charming.”
That...actually made sense in a twisted Hell logic way.
“So I can…calm people to the point of incapacitation?”
“Precisely. You shine, they freeze.” His smirk softened. “You were always dangerous, darling. You simply lacked the proper setting.”
Your wings quivered.
Alastor’s eyes darkened affectionately. “Careful. If you flutter them like that at me, I may forget we’re supposed to be training.”
Later, during another exercise, he asked you to hold still while he tapped a rhythm on your wings. Soft, experimental.
The air shimmered.
You blinked. “What was that?”
“A response,” he said, delighted. “You can manipulate sound vibrations. Not through radio or mimicry, like I do. Yours is…harmonic.”
“Harmonic?”
“You can disrupt demonic frequencies. You can break enchantments. Even unravel illusions.”
You stared.
He beamed.
“My little angelic amplifier.”
And then, of course, you accidentally demonstrated it.
During an attempt to hover, just a little, you flapped awkwardly and produced a soft hum.
The chandelier above you shattered. It simply disassembled itself. Every crystal bead slid apart like melting ice, drifting down in a glittering cascade.
Alastor watched with starry eyes.
You looked at the carnage. “Oh no. Oh no I’m so sorry!”
He grabbed your hands in both of his.
“Do it again.”
“Alastor!”
“Marvelous! Stunning! Do it again!”
At the end of hours of practice, tumbling, hovering, gliding attempts, accidental knockouts of furniture, Alastor finally lowered himself beside you on the bed.
You lay on your stomach, wings draped over the sheets, exhausted in every muscle you didn’t know you had.
Alastor stroked a hand down the nearest wing.
“You’re progressing beautifully.”
“You say that because you’re biased.”
“Absolutely,” he said happily. “But that doesn’t make it untrue.”
He leaned down, kissed between your wings, and hummed.
You felt your powers flicker, soft golden light spreading through the room.
He tucked himself against your side, his antlers tangling slightly in your feathers.
You laughed as you gently freed them. “You look ridiculous.”
“I look devoted,” he corrected, closing his eyes. “And I intend to bask like this for at least an hour.”
“An hour?”
“Or two.”
You rested your cheek against his shoulder. “Alastor?”
“Yes, my love?”
“Thank you for teaching me.”
He squeezed you, voice low and genuine, the kind of softness he hid from the world.
“I would teach you anything you wished to learn.”
Your wings fluttered involuntarily.
He grinned into your hair.
About the taglist, I will add you to it if you comment you want to be added to the taglist, but some blogs are not being tagged even when I add them! So if you aren't getting tagged, it's not because I didn't put you in! In that case, please follow my blog on your own to keep yourself updated on my fics. Every fic is in my Masterlist in the pinned post.
Soft Waves and Gentle Hands Heal the Body. Kind Sentiments Heal the Heart.
Part Thirteen of The Rain series
Synopsis: Ruggie, Jade, Vil, and Floyd visit the Prefect after the collapse and assist in their healing.
TW: Mentions of scars, Physical therapy, Mentions of possible insecurities about scars
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13 (here), Part 14 (coming soon), . . .
The morning after your first session in the water you woke up incredibly sore and yet incredibly excited for tomorrow when you would once more venture to the old pool. Slowly sitting up—your body screaming at you in pain as you do—you achily reached over to your bedside table to grab your list of visitors and see who would be coming today. Finger trailing down over all of the names of those who had already visited, a line now through those slots, you anxiously read until you made it to the name slot for today.
"Oh, right. It's this one." You had approved the list of visitors when you were still pretty out of it. At the time you had thought you were well enough to read at least, but you were starting to question if that was really the case.
The name scribbled in the spot was clearly done so in a hurry. The letters were less than legible to say the least and, for the life of you, you couldn't seem to decipher the writing no matter how hard you tried or how much you squinted.
With a sigh, you set the paper aside and did your best to readjust without causing your sore muscles to start a revolt. Just as you were sure you had successfully quelled the anger of your sore muscles, the door to your room opened and the physical therapist walked in. So much for avoiding a revolt.
She asked some questions about how you were doing today before giving you some pain killers and helping you with some exercises you could do while sitting down to help with your soreness. It definitely helped, but, by the end, you were exhausted.
"Someone will be coming by in a little bit to help massage your muscles as well so that you're ready for tomorrow." The woman spoke as she helped you back into your bed.
When you groaned, she softly chuckled: "Don't worry. It'll be much less strenuous than the stretches."
Impatiently Patiently you waited in your bed, only looking at the clock every ten or so minutes as opposed to every 5. When a knock finally came at the door it nearly gave you a heart attack. However, you calmed yourself in just a moment and quickly called whoever it was in.
The door creaked slowly open before a familiar head of fluffy brown hair popped out from behind the wood. There stood the one and only Ruggie Bucchi in scrubs.
"Ruggie?" you choked.
"Shyehehe! Surprised?" the hyena beastman cackled. "Got a nice new gig."
All you could do was stare wide eyed as your friend walked up to your bedside with his signature grin. "You. . .did?" is all you can manage to croak.
Ruggie's grin only grew. "Got scouted at my gym job when I was giving Ms. Doc a shoulder massage. Now I'm 'er intern."
"You don't. . .need a degree for that?"
"Don't trust me?" He laughed. "Nah, not for my position."
You just nodded slowly. "Alright then. If it's you I trust. . .that you're capable."
The beastman's eyes seemed to twinkle in amusement at your careful wording. "I assure you your trust is well placed." He replied in a very 'I've practiced this persona' tone.
You'd say you were surprised at how skilled he seemed at massaging your sore muscles, but when it came to Ruggie, it was hard to imagine him not being good at something that entailed working with his hands.
You yelped when he hit an especially sore spot on your shoulder and he immediately froze. Looking at him, his muscles seemed so stiff you momentarily wondered if he was the one who needed a massage. Before you can think much more on it, he jolts his hands away. "Are you okay?! Did that hurt?! Crud, did I hurt you?!"
Now it was your turn to freeze. Ruggie, the always calm and cunning Ruggie, was visibly panicking. "Hey- No- Ruggie!" You quickly try to calm him down, instinctively reaching your hands up only to wince at the soreness the action caused and make him panic more. It took a solid five minutes to get him to calm down and assure him that he just hit a sore spot: that, in fact, he had actually greatly helped with your pain.
"Fine, but that's all I'm doin'. I don't want'ta risk hurtin' ya any more. I'll let Ms. Doc do it for ya later."
You narrow your eyes, "Ruggie."
He narrows his, "Prefect."
Ruggie couldn't help but curse to himself under his breath as he found himself once more working out the tension in your sore muscles. He doesn't even remember how you convinced him, but he vaguely remembers the threat of tears. Perhaps you had spent too much time with him learning how to manipulate people.
When he was finally done, you both sighed. Ruggie because he had been holding his breath the whole time: terrified he'd hurt you. You because all that tension in your muscles had completely evaporated and you felt looser than you ever did even before the collapse.
When you finally looked back over at Ruggie, he was pale and appeared as though he had just run a marathon. With a fond smile, you lean over and gently hug him, making him jump slightly. "Thank you Ruggie. I'm sorry I put you through so much stress, but I want you to know that I genuinely feel so much better. In fact, I'd like it if you could come and help me after my next physical therapy session too. If you're comfortable with that of course."
It took Ruggie a moment, but he eventually melted back into your arms, his ears flattening on his head. "I care about ya, prefect, but, respectfully, no. I don't think my heart could handle it."
You giggled at his response but assured him you understood and that it was okay.
The two of you spent the rest of his visit just sat on your bed chatting. You had even managed to convince Ruggie to let you touch his ears and tail because you're oh so pitiful and injured.
You may have been frustrated with all the stretching you had to do the day before to loosen your muscles, but today you could really see the effect of both those stretches and Ruggie's massage. When the Physical Therapist helped you into the wheelchair, you didn't feel nearly that sore.
Your excitement only grew as she wheeled you to the pool. Once there she magically changed your clothes and helped you onto a beach towel on the ground where she assisted you in more stretches. This time, instead of getting into the pool with you, she sat you on the edge of the shallow pool alone. When you looked at her questioningly, she only smiled and told you you'd have a guest instructor today before taking a seat on one of the pool chairs nearby.
You glanced around the room. Nobody. You looked around the pool. Nobody that you could see. As you were considering the possibility that they were running late and the therapist just put you in the water early so you could get used to the temperature a ripple came from the far side of the deep end. The ripples quickly became more frequent and soon turned into soft waves. It was then that you remembered who your visitor was for today.
And it's lucky you did, otherwise you likely would have had a heart attack when you felt a smooth, somewhat slimy tendril wrap around one of your legs. A yellow glow emanated from the dark water, slowly creeping closer.
You watched him: unamused. When he realized he wouldn't be getting a jump out of you, Jade surfaced, a foe look of disappointment on his face. "My, and here I was hoping to get your heart pumping a bit before our session." the eelmer sighed.
"And what if you gave me more than a little fright?" you asked skeptically.
"I would never let it come to that." was all he said before swiftly tucking his arms under yours and pulling your body onto his chest as he floated on his back.
"I'm not sure if I trust that." you murmur.
He ignores your comment and simply grins his signature eerie grin. "I'll be your guest instructor today."
"I'd gathered as mu-"
"I'll support you as we float around, but I want you to try to move your legs a bit as if swimming." He totally just cut you off!
Your expression turns slightly annoyed, but you do as he says. Your movements are weak and shaky, but Jade seems delighted none the less. You can't tell if he's entertained by your struggle or happy for your progress from the way his sly grin creeps up his cheeks.
"You're doing quite well, Prefect." You eye him suspiciously. "I feel like I'm teaching a babe how to swim." There it was. Unfortunately, you couldn't find much fault with his comparison. The average toddler was probably more coordinated than you at this point.
Despite his words, Jade held you so gently and made sure you were properly supported at all times. When he felt your muscles tremble too much, he would discreetly halt any of your movements by softly wrapping his long tail around you. Of course, he didn't admit it. When his tail curled around you he would play it off with a mischievous grin and act as though he was just messing with you. When the Therapist said that was enough for the exercises he continued to float around with you on his chest for a while longer. Again, he played it off as keeping you captive. His real intentions were to allow your body that had been stuck still in your bed for so long to feel the gentle motion of the water.
Below all of that even, he simply wanted to spend more time with you in his arms. To feel that you were there. That you were okay.
Eventually, you fell asleep on his chest to the soft sound and feel of the rippling water. You stayed there for a while before he helped the Physical Therapist get you out of the pool. Even after that, he didn't leave until he had escorted you to the infirmary and saw you laid peacefully in the bed.
You sat in your wheelchair, gazing at the flowers in the botanical gardens. They had been closed off for the day so you could spend some time outside of the infirmary in peace and among nature. You weren't really in any shape to be rolling yourself around, but you didn't mind sitting in place in the center of the gardens. You could see plenty from there.
You could faintly hear the doors to the structure open and close in the distance. A soft smile spreads on your face at the sound that was followed by the sound of clacking heels.
Vil emerges from the foliage around a bend in the path. For a moment, you swear he looks a little paler than you remembered, but you chalk it up to lighting and the time spent apart.
When Vil sees you his eyes soften ever so slightly. "It's been far too long, prefect." he greets elegantly. Vil crosses the distance still between the two of you and kneels at your feet. Vil. He kneels on the dirty ground in his perfectly tailored pants and gently takes your hand is both of his.
You watch dumbly as he studies your scared hands before placing a kiss on the damaged skin. If you were confused before, you were completely stunned now. Your brain had ceased to function.
"Prefect, I apologize." You open your mouth to protest as you have many times before that the collapse wasn't his fault: that, even if he spent some time there, he was busy with the SDC and certainly wasn't expected to have been inspecting the foundation of the building when he cut you off: "No matter how many sleepless nights I spent working to develop it, I have failed to make a cure effective enough to erase the scars that mar your skin."
You blink for a moment. "Pardon?" You study him closer now. He most certainly was paler than usual and it appeared that his makeup was slightly heavier specifically under his eyes. You quickly shake yourself out of your stupor: "Vil, please. It isn't your responsibility to do so, and I really don't mind them."
Vil shakes his head "Don't get me wrong, Prefect. I'm not saying that the scars that mark your skin are in any way unsightly. I believe that you are just as beautiful as you were before. I just. . .I wanted to be able to offer you an alternative were you ever to feel insecure. I know better than anyone how harsh the words of those who are insensitive to your suffering can be and how much effort it can take to learn to ignore those words. I didn't want you to have to deal with those criticisms if you ever felt they were too much to endure."
Your heart squeezes ever so slightly. You will your sore arms to work to wheel yourself beside a nearby bench. You gently beckon Vil over "Mind helping me?" You ask, gesturing to the bench. He hesitates but eventually assists you onto the bench before sitting beside you.
"Vil, I appreciate the thought and effort you put into this. I just want you to understand that it really isn't your burden to bear." He furrows his brows, clearly already thinking of an argument, but you continue before he can voice it: "I understand why you may feel like it is. You're an exceptional potionsmith and a forerunner in the world of cosmetics, but I never asked you to make me some miracle serum, nor would I ever. Any effort you make is appreciated, but it's not necessary or a feat I or anyone with any mind would ever blame you for not being able to accomplish. The fact you're here for me and will be there to empathize with and understand what I may feel is more than I could ever ask for."
Vil simply stares at your hands for a moment before taking them in his own. "I will still try."
You smile. "I'm not asking you to stop. If you succeed it could help a lot of people, after all. Just. . .don't put too much pressure on yourself."
"I'll try not to." He finally meets your eyes, his own overwhelmingly sincere.
You gently tug him into a hug which he slowly reciprocates. "If you ever need someone to talk to, Prefect. I'll be here."
"I know, Vil. I know."
Your third day of physical therapy was upon you. Today you would be spending the majority of your time in the shallow pool practicing walking yourself around with your arms like kids do when they're pretending to be an alligator in the pool. Once more you were scheduled to have a guest instructor and you had a sneaking suspicion as to who it was.
Your suspicion was confirmed when when you were wheeled into pool room you were met with the sight of some very excited heterochromatic eyes peering over the pool's edge and a very loud "SHRIMPY!."
Your physical therapist helped you into the water and Floyd was immediately at your side. First thing he did was give you an uncharacteristically gently hug, burying his face into your neck. "I missed ya, Shrimpy." He murmurs into your skin.
Already used to the whiplash of his emotions, and actually kind of comforted by it at this point, you return the hug immediately. "I missed you too, you goof."
After a few moments of Floyd floating around with you snug in his arms he glides the two of you over to a shallower part of the shallow pool and lets you slide away.
You shift so your arms are supporting you and your legs float behind you. Normally, it's a position that could be considered a little embarrassing, but, with Floyd, it's no such thing.
You start off simply walking around with your hands slowly and in a wide circle in order to get used to things—Floyd doing the same beside you. However, the longer you're in the pool, the more it turns into a game. It starts with Floyd mentioning the legends of the Sea Witch's eel companions and how they would lurk in dark waters with just their eyes visible above it and demonstrating. Soon enough the two of you were playing eels.
You had no idea how you got to the point where you were pretending to be two girls arguing over a rich boy, but here you were. You threw playful insult at each other and 'flipped' your equally short hair over your shoulder sassily. You didn't actually mention the name, but it was pretty clear the more you fleshed out the rich boy's character that you were both talking about Azul.
"Ugh, y'know what," Floyd huffs "He's so stupid anyway. We should just date each other and like, pretend we're his girlfriends but actually just use him for his money."
When you're finally exhausted, Floyd scoops you onto his chest and shift the game to a plane police chase where he's the plane and you're the pilot. You spend hours goofing off in the pool until the time finally comes when you have to get out and go back to the infirmary.
Before you leave, he walks over to where you now sit in your wheelchair all suspicious like and passes you something. Before not so non-clamantly striding to the door and bolting. You open your hand to see a vaguely shrimp shaped sea rock.
sukuna has always been the ideal image of the concept; from rags to riches. his character is so ingrained with the idea of strength and power-- and in the modern world, that would convert to money, money, and more money.
so what does this man do? he would probably work endlessly hard but also smart, in order to reach the top. it doesn't matter what field sukuna gets thrown into; he's a man forever destined to reach his best performance - that's just who he is. a clever, charismatic and powerful businessman. sukuna clawed his way up through years of building up his career, and now he is practically swimming in cash.
but life is all about balance. what has happened since he'd given all of his attention towards his ambitions?
at the ripe age of 37, sukuna is still... well, in simple terms, a virgin.
who can honestly blame him? he was practically born wanting to be rich. he'd studied night and day, spent most of his time networking, and studied his ass off to reach the place he is right now. women would throw themselves at him, and yet he just simply never had the time of day for any of them.
he doesn't regret it one bit. after experiencing the taste of having all this wealth and empowerment, the idea of dating and love seemed to become even more trivial to him. marriage? why would anyone want to risk their fortune by signing such legally binding papers like that? imagine losing half of your riches by marrying the wrong person!
...despite so, he can never stop the irritated twitch in his eye at the sight of overly affectionate couples that surround him like flies.
they say that love is all about timing. once you lose that timing, it's much harder to find another chance again. after years of brushing past plenty of dating opportunities, sukuna finds himself comfortably single and at peace, with a prick of loneliness that only creeps up perhaps maybe twice a year at most.
that, and the added misconception that most people have developed about him is that he is some sort of virgin killer. virgin killer? they must be joking. he is the virgin here.
and truth be told, the waters around him haven't been too great. nobody piques his interest. nobody reels him in like a magnet, the way love stories describe. nobody excites his heart or gets his blood rushing.
when sukuna tries to conjour up an ideal person to date in his mind, who his type truly might be, there is one person whom he met years ago, that he sort of bittersweetly reminisces to...
it's not a highschool sweetheart, not a first love from college, and definitely not a celebrity crush.
it was, as scandalous as it may be, a woman who had already been married.
-
six years.
six years of your life, wasted on a man who betrayed your trust for someone younger at his workplace. divorce is such a strange thing - after stamping some papers, you're complete strangers with the person whom you once thought was your other half. the relationship had gotten sour for a while, and by the end of the splitting process, you had become absolute enemies with your ex-husband. it's of great relief that you happened to put off having children with him, due to your thriving business as an owner of quite the extravagant bar in the city.
the entire ordeal tired you out so thoroughly, and rather than heartbreak, it has left you with unresolved anger and a desire to let yourself loose completely.
you'll no longer look for marriage in a man. you just want to play around. stretch your wings. that wretched bastard was enjoying a sneaky workplace romance behind your back. there's no reason for you to be all mopey while he's probably having the time of his life with his new love.
you're mingling amongst some of your customers at your bar, sipping on a drink of your own, since you're off-duty today. you make sure there's not a glimpse of anger or sorrow on your face - you know that rumours have probably spread to every corner in your social circle by now, but letting people see any negative emotions of yours would feel like you're losing to him. and you want to avoid that.
through the corner of your eye, you notice a single lone customer sitting at the counter directly before the bartender. a broad back, and a full head of pink hair. that's strange. that colour seems oddly familiar.
when you approach the man for a brief greeting, you instantly remember where you had seen him, once he turns around slightly to face you.
it's your ex-husband's former boss.
"oh," - both of you recognise each other, simultaneously.
you had met him a couple of times, when your ex had used your bar for his after-work get togethers and for discounted drinks... in order to get popular with his colleagues. you remember sukuna, because well, nobody would really forget a face like his. your then husband had coaxed you in helping to "butter him up" for his own benefits, as he was often troubled by his stern boss.
"oh! why, good evening sir. i'm pleasantly surprised to see you here," you tell him, taking the seat beside him naturally.
"...good evening."
it's a short and seemingly curt reply, and for a second you thought that's where he'd stop the conversation. you don't remember the man as an overtly friendly type.
"... i don't visit bars often - but i happened to remember this one. i took a liking to it back then," sukuna continues slowly, the sudden praise stunning you. if you're recalling correctly, your ex had complained countless times about how suffocating his boss was, and how he was the type to never give compliments at all.
"thank you - i'm honoured to hear that. this place was, and still is my pride and joy, after all."
"i can see that. i'm glad it still has an owner who knows how to run it."
your heart does a little flip. something about his high praise, paired with his deep voice is a deadly combination. he sure knows how to use his words.
"have you been doing well these past few years?" sukuna suddenly asks.
the question makes you stop in your tracks... how abouts should you tackle this question?
"not too bad," you lie with a smile, "a few hardships here and there, i suppose."
"and your husband?" he asks. he doesn't really want to know about the latter, but he finds that it's something like an obligation, when in social situations like this. sukuna swirls the whiskey in his glass briefly, and then puts back it down.
"... ah, my ex-husband you mean."
his hand twitches ever so slightly against his glass. he looks over at you, and observes your hands, and indeed notices your missing ring.
"we're no longer together, and i say good riddance," you tell him lightheartedly.
"i see. my apologies," sukuna voices quietly, meeting your eyes.
"please- no need to apologise. i'm happy to be freed from him. but enough about me, how have you been?"
the conversation continues to move forward in a similar manner - and you're surprised by how well it flows. there's a tad bit of flirting here and there - and there's something about this man that makes you wish to keep talking with him.
however, not too long after, you stand up from your seat. since you don't want to bother him too much. he's a great catch; but you assume a man of his caliber would rather spend his time with someone who isn't the divorced spouse of a former employee.
"well - it was pleasant to see you again, mr. ryomen. i'll leave you to it," you tell him.
sukuna's body tenses up slightly, but in a way that isn't very obvious to you.
a warm hand holds your arm back when you turn away from him, with a gentle grip. you face him again, and see a tranquil smirk adorning his features. his hand on your arm smoothly trails down slowly to your hand.
"... leaving already? i wouldn't mind having some of your company tonight," he voices carefully, thumb running over your fingers. your eyes light up, and a little smile creeps up onto your face.
why, if this wouldn't be the perfect opportunity for revenge... and your first-in-a-while exciting one night stand.
"... oh? then i suppose..."
you slowly sit back down next to him, while holding onto his hand.
"i wouldn't mind staying back a bit... you are great eye candy, after all."
he chuckles deeply, and kisses the top of your hand, notably on your ring finger, in a polite and gentlemanly manner.
"you're not so bad yourself."
how cunning of him.
-
- 2 years prior -
you wince at the boisterous laughter of your husband, who has gone off the rails a little bit, beginning to get a tad too excited from your alcohol and the spotlight of attention from his work colleagues. you sigh, and purse your lips together in mild annoyance - he had begged on his hands and knees for this, but he's already gone over the number of drinks that he'd promised to have.
by all means you have no qualms about him using your bar to get closer to his work mates and everything, but he doesn't seem to fully respect your role as an owner. and sometimes... it feels like he sees your bar as his own extended property. you are his wife; but you still believe there should be respectful boundaries when it comes to things like this.
even from amongst the table cluttered with people and emptied glasses and noises of loud chatter, sukuna could feel your quiet disdain towards this crowd. not that he doesn't understand your sentiment.
the man had insisted that sukuna tagged along to this get together, even though he had initially declined the offer. he had presumed the "fancy bar" and his wife that he so proudly boasted about all the time was bound to be the same level of quality as... well, him.
after all, he was sukuna's least favourite employee.
however, things had changed last minute and he ended up becoming curious over just how great of a place it supposedly was. lo and behold, it was actually something quite decent.
clearly, it was only because the bar was in your hands, and not that fool's. the well thought out furniture placement. the carefully selected decor and colour aesthetics. the high quality drinks and menu options. the place was teeming with great, organised composition.
it seems that his employee's wife is a charming and elegant person, after all. it boggles his mind how the two of you are even together. clearly, you deserve better. but it's not in his scope to get in between a married couple.
his gaze always seem to wander towards you, however.
and sukuna is most sympathetic, when he sees your stiff smiles and discreet sighs whenever you're leaving the tableside to grab whatever it is that your idiot of a husband has asked for next.
it's past midnight by now, you've sent your employees that work at the bar off home because you didn't want to have them witnessing your husband being... like that. and yet he is still loudly chattering with them as if there is all the time left in the world.
"...it's getting quite late, isn't it?"
the sudden voice of sukuna's resounds like an intrusion into the conversation they were having at hand, and the talking suddenly quietens down. they each check for the time on their watches or phones and realises that he is in fact, correct.
the little party ends, just like that. though your husband's always spoke of his boss in scorn, you have to admit that his assertiveness is something quite admirable.
they all begin to stand up and leave the table, saying their thanks to you on the way out and shaking your hand.
"honey, i'm going to go and see them off downstairs. you can begin cleaning up, yeah?"
before you can even respond, he stumbles down to chase after his colleagues - grumbling something like "way to kill the fun..." once he knows he is out of hearing distance.
you look at sukuna who is putting his coat back on, and politely smile.
"thank you. my husband can be quite overexcitable sometimes. i hope you'll still see him as a good member of your team."
pah. fat chance. but perhaps for your sake, he'll stop looking for every opportunity to sack the guy.
"i'll try to keep your words in mind whenever he gets on my nerves."
you giggle at the joke, and it's the first time you've genuinely laughed tonight. sukuna can't help but be a little mesmerised. while he looks onto your features closely, he notices that your earring seems to be coming off a bit loose.
"your earring... looks like it could fall off any second now," he points towards his own ear to let you know about it.
you immediately reach for your ear, but your finger ends up knocking it down instead, and the accessory falls to the ground. both of you come down to pick it up simultaneously - and sukuna has the pleasure of grazing hands with you briefly. he picks the delicate thing up and hands it over to you.
"thank you... it's my favourite pair. i would've been upset if i'd lost one." he watches as you clip it back on properly using both hands. a spark runs through sukuna's eyes, his gaze running over your slightly tilted head, and exposed neck, and shoulder line.
once you're done, you thank him again.
"please feel free to visit the bar in your own time. i can give you a special discount, as thanks," you wink at him.
sukuna gives a short nod, your little wink making him smirk, and then he stoically leaves the scene.
and when you start cleaning up, your eyes fall upon the generous tip that has been left on the table area where sukuna had been sitting.
unbeknownst to you, he did actually visit you a couple of times. though you were either busy or not at the bar whenever he came by. his damned timing... he's never been lucky with it.
oh, well. you were married anyway. it's too troublesome to meddle with married people. and you didn't seem like the type of woman to cheat on your partner, no matter how idiotic of a husband you were with.
it was only a crush to begin with - suppressing it came around naturally.
yet, he could never shake off the desire to sometimes come by and stand around outside of your bar on days where he'd felt particularly bothered by his lonesomeness.
though he never wound up stepping inside on most occasions.
-
as mentioned before, love is all about timing. when sukuna had impulsively visited your bar tonight, he had not expected to be rewarded with this golden opportunity given to him by fate. so he did everything he could, used every trick in his sleeve, and successfully captured your full attention after these two years.
something inside him stirs vigorously - urging him to grab ahold of you.
and now, you're in the back seat of his car - with the same man you met only a handful of times previously. your ex's most handsome former boss. the tension between the two of you had reached the ceiling, and you somehow ended up in here with him.
the car takes off, as the chauffeur begins to drive you wherever it was that you were going with him. it didn't matter, you didn't care, not when your eyes were glued to this man without break...
you slide up a bit closer to him, and guide his face towards yours.
"kiss me...?" you ask tenderly, smiling at his gorgeous crimson eyes.
your gaze eagerly follows his adam's apple as he swallows hard, making it go up and down. he leans forward to let his lips fall onto yours. he's so soft, despite his outer appearance. his lips are soft. so is his touch. and hair, as well. he seems a bit clumsy with his tongue like it's his first time kissing somebody, but you blame it on his glass of whiskey and pay it no mind. you don't mind taking the lead a little, after all.
you kiss, and kiss, and kiss, and he's already getting better at it, and it strangely feels like he's mimicking your moves. you giggle against sukuna's lips, feeling awfully playful, smooching the area next to his mouth and also caressing his jawline as you do so. you feel the groans that rumble in his throat, and every ragged breath on the skin of your face.
your sneaky hand then slips down to his chest, touching and feeling for his pecs and abs underneath his buttoned white dress shirt. he grabs your wrist to stop you from getting down further, ears and face flushed with heat as he feels your playful little giggles against his lips.
when the car eventually stops, and he brings you to his most gorgeous estate, you pay no mind to the sweatiness of his palms while he guides you to his bedroom, hand in hand.
it's hard for you to keep your hands off him. once you get to his room, you push him towards his bed, and sukuna lets himself get cornered with a rather nervous smirk on his face, watching as you straddle him while he sits on the edge of his bed.
things take off quite slowly, clothing pieces being removed one at a time, all while you and sukuna share kisses and chuckle over each other, breaths overlapping as time passes in slow motion, the air getting thicker with more tension.
he hasn't gotten too handsy with you yet, which isn't a terrible thing, but the thought passes through the back of your mind like an echo, as any other man would've been groping your breasts or ass by now. perhaps he's just a true gentleman to his core.
sukuna's face feels so hot, and he hasn't even really done much with you yet. he can only hope he isn't as red as he feels, palms a little slippery with sweat, and really only copying your movements, letting you guide him. he wants to touch you all over so badly, but he doesn't know where to even begin. his cock is so strained in his pants, it feels like it might burst. and every button you'd undone on his shirt while your tongue was in his mouth, and the way you complimented the tattoos on his body had made him impossibly harder. some heat has been relieved from him as a result of you stripping him half naked.
"my turn, silly. undress me," you tease, hand sliding up and down his firm shoulder...
sukuna swallows on nothing, sweat beading down the side of his head. you gasp softly as he presses his lips against the crook of your neck, and collar bone area. an arm wrapped around your waist. one hand fumbling around your buttons, making you giggle.
your eyebrows rise a teensy bit when he seems to struggle a little with the bra strap at your back, mildly surprised. but his tiny scowl is so adorable to you. to think a man like him would have clumsy moments like this.
"having trouble, dear?" you provoke, your mean side taking over.
sukuna looks up with an unamused expression, lips pursed together. he also simultaneously finds out that being called 'dear' doesn't feel so bad, when the word is dressed with your voice. you make it sound like he's your husband, and he doesn't hate it.
"you could cut me some slack. this is my first time..." sukuna mumbles.
"first time? undoing a bra?" you ask.
"... yes. but also," he continues, getting more antsy, swallowing dryly, "i've never slept with anyone before."
"you're a funny man... there's simply no way," you huff, wondering what he gains from telling such a pointless lie.
"i'm not joking," sukuna holds you tighter on his lap, looking up at you rather seriously.
you take a look at his half-sincere, half-nervous expression, and produce a loud gasp that makes him jump a little.
"oh my..." you begin, not knowing where to really start.
"...we can stop if you've lost interest," sukuna offers with a bit of a sullen face.
"you say that, but you're gripping onto me tighter, love," you say quickly, unable to stop the swell of your excitement and arousal. he looks displeased about being called out.
"i don't mind. hell, i wouldn't lose interest over such a thing. in fact, quite the opposite."
you unhook your own bra easily, and drop the flimsy material off the foot of the bed. your tits are now bare in his face, and sukuna's eyes dilate, suddenly being distracted. a smirk creeps up on your face.
you grab his face as make him look back up at you, where he can see your devious smile.
"i'm such a lucky woman tonight."
sukuna stares into your eyes, and feels his cock jump against his pants again.
"i'll be gentle for your first time," you tease him, before beginning to kiss him again. you guide his hands to your chest, where he starts massaging the soft flesh while groaning into your mouth, making him forget all about his small disdain at your cockiness. he'll get back at you for it later, but for now...
he finds that the action of you undoing his belt slowly arouses him even more - and it's difficult to get over the mild embarrassment of exposing how the tip of his dick is leaking so much that there's a wet spot on his boxers.
"i'm not surprised that you're big, but it's really different when it's right in front of your eyes..." you comment under your breath, observing his veiny cock, very obviously hard and twitching, like it's begging to be touched. he's the biggest you've ever seen. like almost a shame he's never learned to use this all his life... that only leaves all the more for you, however.
sukuna is lying on his back on the bed, and you're on top of him, giving his poor dick a few pumps. your soft hands are enough to make him almost lose his mind. once you start touching him, it's difficult to stop, especially when he's making all those delicious and hesitant deep groans. you begin teasing him with your hands for a bit, until he hisses that's enough, because he's on the verge of spilling already.
you wouldn't mind if he does, but it would be better if he did that inside of you.
"was it too much? maybe you'll cum right as i put it in," you hum, finally beginning to line him up to your entrance, guiding his tip up and down your slit, glistening with slick. sukuna remains silent with gritted teeth, simply watching as you slowly lower your cunt, swallowing his cock up.
he is massive. but you manage to sink down and sit on him completely, your pussy being a tight squeeze for his dick. nothing but curse words slip out of sukuna's mouth, like he'd been keeping everything together in order to avoid cumming yet.
"you're really massive," you repeat out loud breathlessly, feeling as though your lungs have gotten the air pushed out of them from just putting it in.
"and you're... so fuckin' tight," he mumbles, looking down at your stomach. and wet. and hot.
his palms are very warm against your hips.
you look down at him with a small smile, and proceed to drag your fingertips lightly from your lower abdomen to almost where your belly button is.
"you're all the way up here mr. ryomen... isn't that a feat?"
his fingers dig a little harder into your hips, which makes your smile grow bigger.
"i'm gonna start moving now," you tell him.
you start bouncing lightly, the walls of your cunt rubbing up and down his sensitive cock, producing ragged breaths from the man, his eyes losing focus. damn it. he's already about to lose it, and he doesn't want to admit so.
"your first time inside a woman... are you already about to cum?" you tease, voice shaky from how you're still bouncing.
"shut... up," sukuna groans, hands unconsciously beginning to guide your hips despite his denial. he's never felt something so warm and slippery coiling around his dick like this. it's vastly better than just using his hand... he can never go back after this.
you trail your hands that were on his pecs, down to his abs as you now roll your hips against him, admiring his muscles. you try to ignore the feeling of his tip prodding at the entrance of your womb.
"wait- i'm already about to-" he says with a choked off gasp.
"do it. i want it inside. c'mon..." you urge him, getting faster.
he tries to hold out a bit longer, being a stubborn old man with his stupid sense of pride, despite his hands helping you bounce up and down and hips uncontrollably bucking up into you.
"no need to hold back... do- it-" you coax him again while panting, grinding your hips down, cunt squeezing his cock into submission.
"haah... shit... fuck!" sukuna cusses, finally letting himself loose as he sees enough stars to create a universe, first time cumming so hard into a woman. his balls clench and the pleasure runs up and down his spine, making him shudder as he's buried into you down to the hilt.
"there you go," you coax, smirking as you feel him filling you up, every pulse of his dick being so prominent, and the sight of his orgasm being so fulfilling to you, even though you're missing your own climax. you roll your hips around again, milking him down to the last drop, before leaning down to kiss his wet lips.
sukuna is breathless, but kisses you back messily, hands roaming your back and behind as he does so, pleasure spreading all throughout his body. he wants to be inside you forever.
you notice between kisses that his dick hasn't gone down at all, not even a little bit soft. the night has only started, you suppose.
once he calms a bit, you find it in yourself to get cocky once again.
"not bad for your first. and you're still hard? how energetic... for an old man."
you're suddenly flipped onto your back in the blink of an eye, and sukuna is the one above you this time, looking down at you with lustful, dangerous eyes.
"already wanting to take the lead?" you taunt seductively, your arms coming around his neck and your legs wrapping around his waist, as he's still inside of you.
"i don't see why not. i may be inexperienced, but you're a great reference," sukuna words playfully, matching your demeanor.
"you think you can make me cum?"
"if you can be a great guide... i'll have you screaming my name within the next hour."
"how stunning... i love your confidence-"
your words get cut off when his tip prods at your cervix, sliding even deeper than before. he finds it that his own load has made your cunt easier to penetrate, swallowing up his dick completely. he starts off slow.
you feel his paced, deliberate thrusts and you smirk, knowing it must still be difficult for him to hold himself back from cumming. with an amused smile, you let him experiment with your body, reminding him that he's allowed to be touchy, that he can go faster, harder, but to make sure to maintain consistency.
you ask him to lean down closer to you, face to face.
"the good thing about missionary... is it's intimacy," you whisper, meeting his eyes with your own directly, "doesn't it make your heart flutter? this eye contact," you ask, your hands cupping the sides of his face, thumb running over his bottom lip.
he doesn't answer your question, but his heated gaze tells you everything you need to know. he grabs one of your hands and interlocks his fingers with yours against his bed. you think he's starting to get the hang of it.
sukuna's hips speed up, he's panting over you, your other hand running down his muscly back - bed creaking rhythmically. you sigh out a moan and it coaxes him to get a little faster.
"kiss me when you cum..." you plead, fluttering your lashes at him.
his hand holds yours tighter and soon enough, sukuna's lips come crashing onto yours, with his ragged breath.
his cock makes a mess of your pussy, spilling into it like a fountain for the second time, hips jolting against yours like he's trying to reach your deepest part, groaning while still on your lips and tasting your tongue ravenously. he feels every clench of his balls and it's somehow even more immersive when he cums as he's kissing you. he makes note of that.
your fingertips on his back dig deeper into his flesh, scratching down slowly, sensually.
he's kissing you, but suddenly gets the feeling you're moving it elsewhere. you trail your lips down to his chin, then under his jaw, and finally the side of his neck. your hand slithers from his back to his hair, and he whispers a curse as it feels heavenly to have you kiss him in his sensitive areas.
it makes him hard again.
he still hasn't gotten you to orgasm yet, but third time's the charm, isn't it?
"colour me surprised. you have a lot of energy. for a virgin," you tease, mildly out of breath. and it's true. it's hard to find men of your age to last more than... well, two rounds.
"keep teasin' me and see where it'll get you," he mutters, irate from the way you keep emphasising the fact.
"oh, now i'm curious. please, do tell me."
sukuna drags his fat cock out of you and thrusts it back in sharply, and you feel his heavy balls slap against your ass, tip hitting upwards inside you.
"...tell you? no, i'll show you."
he pushes your knees up higher and begins to piston his hips into yours once again, making you gasp and throw your head back against the mattress. he's beginning to understand how to use his dick properly now.
thick cream coats the base of his cock as he continues to fuck into you with a burning desire to make you climax this time for sure. your hands grip at the sheets, which he takes as a good sign. you bite your lips, trying not to moan too loudly, but you can't help making some noise from how deep his twitching cock dips in and out of your womb.
it's probably because he's already orgasmed twice in a row, but sukuna's finding it easier to hold it back this time, despite your cunt feeling so good around him. and it looks like your first high is chasing after you this time.
you feel the pressure building up in your abdomen, inching closer to release. with ragged breaths, your moaning becomes higher pitched and intense. sukuna maintains the same pace and makes sure it remains unchanged, watching your reactions intently.
"you're losing your composure..." he voices breathily, with a content smirk.
"this... isn't fair..." you whine, the tables being turned too rapidly for your liking.
"not fair? you started this. now hurry up and..." sukuna had begun to say, before sucking in a breath shakily. he's getting close again, dammit. regardless, he keeps going.
"f-fuck... 'm cumming-!" your hips jolt with stars shining before your eyes, the pressure in your body snapping all at once.
sukuna buckles over and groans at the pleasing sensation of your cunt pulsating around his cock, squeezing and fluttering as you full body orgasm, eyes tearing up. your pussy forces another load out of him like nothing, and he leans down to kiss you again as basks in the pleasure of making you feel good. your legs wrap around his waist and your arms hold him tight against you, thoroughly enjoying the warmth exuding from both of your bodies.
honestly you hadn't been expecting to conclude this night with such an intense climax after you'd heard it was his first time. you had planned to keep things one sided for the most part, just endless bullying for fun - yet he exceeded your expectations after all. he's not so easy.
you lie together in a breathless heap for a few minutes, until he finally separates from your body, when the heat gets unbearable. you feel the mattress dip beside you when he lays down.
"...not bad. how does it feel to finally lose your virginity?"
"don't push yourself. your whole body shook from pleasure just now," sukuna voices with triumph.
"hello? you came thrice in a row. i won, 3-1."
he grimaces, as he's not one to enjoy losing, but he decides to give it to you this time.
"look at you counting, how childish," sukuna retorts.
"but you're still bothered by it."
he shifts his position in bed, and you're suddenly engulfed in a heap of body warmth again, from the way he's slipped an arm under your head and pulled you closer to him, into a chest-to-chest embrace. it makes your heart skip a beat, making you think about how intimate he acts despite his inexperience. you look up at him and meet his eyes.
"looks like that was enough to shut you up, hm?" he teases.
you snap out of it and return his smirk with an expression of mild exasperation.
sukuna leans down for another kiss, which takes you by surprise, but you gladly oblige and spend a few minutes softly making out with the man, melting into his embrace. it feels like you're crossing the boundaries of a one night, but what do you care? it makes you excited to think about your ex's reaction to finding out you'd slept with his most hated boss.
sukuna's grabbed his sheets and draped it over the both of you by now, seemingly ready to drift off into sleep eventually. you're not so tired yet, so you lie on your side facing the man and admire his sculpted muscles instead while you have the chance. he watches you rather expressionlessly while you run a hand over his pecs.
"why... did you divorce him?"
the question leaves his lips before he could stop it.
it immediately wipes the smile off your face - and replaces it with a perplexed one, as your raise an eyebrow.
"that's a little spontaneous. why do you ask?"
"the guy had so many flaws to begin with. I'm curious to know which one ended up becoming your last straw."
that makes you laugh hard, and sukuna also cracks a smile at the tune of your laughter.
"okay, that was funny. i'll reward you by answering honestly," you tell him.
"i'll keep it quick, since talking about him for too long really kills the mood for me. long story short, we've had numerous problems in our relationship. i gave him some time, thinking we could still make it work somehow, but then i found out he had cheated on me with someone at work," you confess.
"... i'm hardly surprised. you need better judgement. stamping lifelong papers with a fool like him," sukuna tsks.
"i don't know. i was blinded by love, i suppose," you shrug.
"if i'd approached you back then, would things have been different?" sukuna wonders out loud.
you slowly sit up on his bed.
"what do you mean by that?"
your question makes sukuna hesitate, regretting that he may have picked the wrong timing to bring it up.
no, that's not it.
"surely you already know what i mean," he tells you, sitting himself up as well. "i'd always seen you more than just an employee's wife."
"you... liked me?"
"i'd say like is too strong of a word. i was intrigued by you."
you make an expression that he cannot read all too well.
"does that make you uncomfortable?" he asks you.
"i wouldn't say uncomfortable..." you respond, looking a bit awkward in this moment. what you thought was a fun opportunity for you, was clearly something a bit more for him. things just got a little more complicated. weren't you determined to not get tangled up in long term relationships from now on?
"your words don't match your expression," sukuna grimaces, now truly regretting bringing up this topic so soon. he got too hasty.
"i'm really not, it's just... that was unexpected information. i'm flattered, really," you tell him, lying back down into his bed.
that seems to relieve him a bit, and he follows suit, laying next to you on his side.
"anyways, enough about me... tell me more about yourself, why don't you," you swiftly change the topic.
sukuna notices it, but lets it go. you tell him to speak about himself, but he doesn't know where to start.
"what aspect about me?" he questions.
"well, do you have any secrets behind your wealth?" you reply jokingly.
he takes you seriously however-- and opens up about what his life was like before now. you learn that he is an extreme hard worker. incredibly intelligent, stubborn, how difficult it was to get where he is now.
with each sentence, you felt guiltier about yourself, somewhat. you felt as though you were wasting his time. he was a good man, a far better one than your previous one, but because of that, you could only think about the fact that he deserves someone who could like him back with certainty. someone who was younger, and not recently divorced, looking to use him for something petty like revenge.
after what seemed like a more heartfelt conversation than you had aimed for, the sleepiness wins over both of you, and sukuna gently pulls you in for another cuddle.
with the mentality of "just for tonight", you close your eyes in the arms of his warmth.
-
the next morning, when he wakes up without you next to him in his bed, sukuna is hardly surprised. you had felt off ever since he'd mentioned his feelings for you.
but if you think leaving quietly and scratching his pride a little will kill his drive to pursue you, you are dead wrong.
if anything, you might have just lit a fire in him.
meanwhile you?
at home, you're taking an everything shower. the steam rises from the pool of water in your bathtub, fogging up the mirror completely, and you think about how convenient that is, considering how you don't want to face yourself right now.
you weren't sure how to say goodbye to the man, so you just left.
"i thought i'd left those awkward habits behind in my twenties..." you mumble to yourself. the sound of a drop of water hitting the sink drain echoes in your bathroom. the once-hot bathtub water is beginning to get lukewarm. you take it as a sign to start getting ready to come out.
you prepare yourself for another night. today, you'll be working as a proper bar owner, showing up, overseeing how things are operating, and then catch up on the backed-up paperwork that's been piling in your office for a few days. you sigh.
when you show up to work, it's a quiet time where there aren't many guests coming in yet - the employees are diligently preparing for another night. your newest part-time employee, miwa, greets you friendlily. you have a quick chat with her before heading into your office, which is upstairs from the actual bar area.
perhaps roughly thirty minutes have passed since you'd sat down. you suddenly hear some ruckus outside, sounds of something setting your workers into a panic, yelling "sir! this area is for employees only!"
you already have a hunch on who this intruder might be, when he gives three sharp knocks on your door before swinging it open. miwa and one of your bartenders, ino, look frantic and scared as they stand behind sukuna, who clearly had not given a single fuck about their concerns of him barging into your office.
you sigh all too knowingly. sukuna furrows his brows at your rude response.
"ino, miwa, it's alright. you can go back and finish what you were doing," you tell them gently.
they eye each other anxiously for a second, before leaving the two of you alone in your office. the door clicks shut.
"you have some nerve, treating me like a one night stand - considering how you're aware i'd know exactly where to find you anyway," sukuna grumbles, clearly unhappy at the situation.
"i'm sorry if i've upset you. but i'm about to upset you more. i didn't mean for last night to be anything more than that. a one night stand," you respond firmly. despite such, your heart is beating wildly as opposed to your calm face. the man is hotter when he's vexed.
"lying definitely isn't one of your strengths. you've acted strange since i spoke about my feelings. i need to know why."
are you still hung back by that fool? is he not good enough for you?
you give him a look that means to show you're somewhat troubled by his demand.
"you're... a good man, mr. ryomen. i ended up deciding i didn't want to waste your time with my half hearted feelings. it was short sighted of me."
"back to mr. ryomen, hm? after you had moaned my name all night," sukuna says with a mean tone, approaching you with bold and long strides. it doesn't take long for him to reach you.
"only i decide what's a waste of my time, and what isn't," he drags out the sentence slowly, as he steps up towards your desk, and then your chair.
your heart is pounding in excitement, eagerly wanting to see what he does next, contradicting your refusal of him. he comes around your desk and approaches you directly. you're turned around swiftly in your chair. he grabs your face and lifts it up to enforce eye contact.
"... so don't get ahead of yourself. i had a hunch you were using me as a means of getting back at your shitty ex. it was obvious enough. did you really think i was oblivious to it all? i might've been a virgin until last night but i'm not dense."
he seemed very irritated, but the switch from his previous gentlemanly demeanor to this is a huge turn on for you, in the strangest way possible.
"if you planned to use me, then stick to it. whether for your revenge, or for your lust-- it doesn't matter. i'll devour it all."
the spirals in his eyes feel like he's almost hypnotising you - unwavering and furious. but you see a little bit of something else in there, as well.
his desperation.
you have the upper hand here, but he's making it seem like it's the opposite. and he's good at it, the way you're having palpitations says enough.
but if he thinks you'll just cower beneath him like so, then he's very, very wrong.
you grab his wrist to get his hand off of your face. a surge of adrenaline fills your blood, and heat begins to rise in the pit of your stomach. grabbing his tie, you crash your lips against his, and forces them apart to shove your tongue inside, initiating a rough kiss.
sukuna's voice wavers as he groans, and as you slowly stand up from your chair, he follows suit and becomes ever so malleable, nothing like his arrogance seconds prior.
he lets himself get pushed, still kissing you, against the back wall of your office. his back hits the hard surface behind him, but you're still not stopping, rubbing your tongue all over his, biting and sucking on his lower lip, while your other hand roams around his chest and shoulders, your body pressed flush against his - he knows because your soft breasts are pushing onto him. that, and your firm tugging on his tie makes his knees buckle ever so slightly.
the kiss lasts for what feels like forever. yet in the moment when you finally broke it, the sense of disappointment was ever so present.
when you look up at him, you notice his usually sharp eyes have mellowed out, and he's looking back at you with a certain hunger, his lips being a mess with your gloss. the man is simply irresistible. both of you are breathless, in this silent room.
"this is what you wanted, right? fine. i'll use you to my heart's content then, sukuna," you tell him with a low voice. "don't you regret this later on."
you see him swallow on nothing, giving you a weak smirk.
"yeah? i'd like to see you try. you folded awfully quickly for someone who tried to run away merely minutes ago."
he makes a great point, which kind of irks you.
"you know... i found it incredibly unbelievable that you had zero experience but now..." you peer down and drag your fingertip down, over the thick bulge in his pants. "getting so hard from a kiss? you're so endearing, and i really mean it. i truly am a lucky woman."
"that's quite enough," sukuna warns you quietly, clicking his tongue in annoyance and grabbing at your wrist to stop you from touching him. the momentary shakiness in his voice betrays him.
paying his moody behaviour no mind, you turn and walk to your desk, grabbing something from it.
it's a sticky note. you walk back up towards him, and slap the piece of paper onto his pec, before scrawling something onto it with a pen, and then stamping a big kiss onto it.
"if we're to be more than just a one-night, i figured you'd need my number," you tell him, chucking your pen back onto your desk afterwards.
and then, a timid knock resounds against your door, making both of you look up at it.
"ma'am? are you okay in there?" miwa's muffled voice is audible.
you turn back to sukuna and smile.
"i'd love to stay... but duty calls," you tell him, wiping your lip gloss off his lips with your thumb.
"feel free to remain in my office until your little problem resolves, handsome."
before he can get another word in, you've left the room already. once you're gone, sukuna's legs lose strength a little bit, and he staggers back to lean against the wall behind him again, as he lets out a shaky breath. his hand reaches for his chest, to peel away the lewd sticky note you left with him. your kissy mark, along with your number, is printed clearly on it.
the spell that you have on him...
outside of your office, miwa looks at you half puzzled, half concerned, at the way you're clutching at your chest and taking deep breaths. you're taking your time to relieve the tension from before. you reassure her, that there's nothing to be worried about. she doesn't seem very convinced, but lets you be for now.
more importantly.... you desperately need to head to the nearest bathroom to get yourself together.
not even an hour later, you receive a text from an unknown number.
'what time do you finish work?'
you bite your lower lip as you stare at your phone screen. it looks like you won't be completing all this paperwork by today, either...
The first time you ran back to Satoru was when you were both seventeen.
He had said something cruel after a mission. Something like, “You’d just slow me down out there.”
You were young, angry, and hurt. Without a second thought you stomped off.
You made it three blocks before he caught up to you, panting. Weird, Satoru can get out of breath?
“I didn’t mean that,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. “You scare me, that’s all.”
“Scare you?”
He didn’t explain it well, at least not then. Only said something about how when he’s around you, he forgets to be careful. And that maybe forgetting is dangerous, letting your guard down is dangerous.
The second time, it was during your third year. Suguru had left. Satoru had changed.
He didn’t talk much, didn’t smile like he used to. You tried to reach for him, but he kept his distance. “I can’t protect anyone. Look at what happened to him.”
You said, “You’re not him.”
But he didn’t believe that yet.
You stayed anyway. Ran and ran as fast as you can to catch with him, no matter what. And eventually he let you back in.
The third time, you were older. Sorcerers now, not students.
You’d seen him leave battlefields soaked in blood that wasn’t his. You’d seen him win, but lose pieces of himself every time. And still, he’d come home and act like none of it mattered.
One night, you asked him, “Do you ever wish you weren’t the strongest?”
He looked at you with tired eyes.
“Every day. Because if I wasn’t, maybe someone else could protect you instead of me.”
Your heart shattered, “Excuse me?”
That night, he asked you to leave. You did.
You came back the next morning, your key turning in the lock like a promise. You found him on the floor, hands in his hair, like he’d been trying to crush the thoughts out of his skull.
Without a second thought you dropped your keys and approached him with your arms open. He didn’t say anything. He held you tight.
The fourth time you ran back to Satoru, it was raining.
You had left in a storm of your own making angry words, trembling hands, doors slammed shut. But halfway down the street, soaked and shivering, you turned around. He was still standing there, arms crossed, pretending he hadn’t been watching the door.
He didn’t say anything when you burst back in. Just held his hand on the small of your back while leading you two into your shared bedroom.
The fifth time, you had been gone for a week.
You told yourself it was over, that you couldn’t handle the late nights, the secrets, the constant fear he wouldn’t come back from a mission.
But a week passed, and the silence felt louder than his absence ever had. You came back to his apartment and found the light on, your toothbrush still in the holder. He’d never moved it.
“Couldn’t sleep without you,” he mumbled into your hair that night.
The sixth time. You stayed through Shibuya. Through his grief. Through his guilt.
He didn’t say it, but you saw it in his eyes every time he looked at you. I will ruin you. I will die before you do.
You told him he didn’t get to decide that. You told him you’d stay as long as he let you.
Every push, every wall he tried to build between you, you came back. Satoru is the one person you’d always give a chance to and forgive.
The seventh time, he didn’t come back. The battlefield was silent when you arrived. They tried to stop you, told you it was dangerous, told you didn’t need to see him like that.
But you did- no, you had to.
You had always come back. No matter how far, no matter what he’d said.
And now, there he was, lying still on the ground, a line of red drawn from shoulder to his chest. Your eyes started to blur once you gazed further down. He was cut into two.
His blindfold was gone. His eyes were open, staring at a sky he couldn’t see anymore.
You reached for him. Your hands shook.
“I came back,” you whispered. “I always come back.”
But this time he didn’t. He had let his guard down.
The last time you ran to Satoru was during early May. The cherry blossoms were blooming and you wanted to spend it with Satoru. Like how you two always did.
You crouched dowm, your fingers brushing the cool stone.
“I brought you sweets,” you murmured, placing the little box beside the grave. “Not that you ever shared.”
Silence answered. Not cruel, just final.
You exhaled shakily, arms crossing around yourself. “I told you I’d stay. I told you I’d come back, even if you pushed me away.”
You remembered all the times he tried to drive you off. Not because he didn’t love you but because he did, too much. Enough to believe the only way to protect you was to lose you.
“I would’ve taken all of it,” you whispered. “The danger, the pain, the waiting. I just wanted you.”
Your voice broke, “But I guess this was always the end you were running toward. I want my Satoru back.”
A long pause and a deep inhale.
Then, softly, almost like a smile, “But atleast you’re free now.”
You sat down beside the grave, legs tucked under you. The sun was starting to dip, gold bleeding across the sky like it was setting for him.
“I’ll keep coming back,” you said. “From the very moment we met as annoying teenagers. You’re stuck with me.“
And for a moment, with the breeze curling around you like his touch, you could almost believe he was there. Watching. Waiting.
Still the strongest. He’s always gonna be someone that you want. Forever, your Satoru, he’ll be.
I hope you are well and healthy my loyal human friend🌹
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Hello, Snape propose Y/n right after second wizarding war. Lots of fluff. Thank you.
IN YOUR ARMS
pairing : severus snape x reader
genre : fluff
warning : -
summary : as in the request
the room was bathed in the warm glow of the fire, the crackling of the flames providing a gentle backdrop to the stillness between you. snape sat beside you, his usual composure still present but there was something different in his gaze. an unfamiliar softness that made your heart flutter every time you caught his eye.
“y/n,” his voice was low, almost hesitant, which was so unlike him that it made you pause and look at him. he wasn’t one for hesitation.
you turned to him, eyes curious but patient, waiting for him to speak.
"you’ve been... quieter than usual," he said, his tone a little unsure now, his gaze flickering to the fire before returning to you. "is something troubling you?"
you smiled softly, shaking your head. "no, not at all," you reassured him, nudging his arm with yours. "just thinking about how everything's changed."
snape gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, his hand resting near yours on the couch. he was close enough that you could feel the warmth of him, the steady, calming presence that had been with you through the hardest of times. but tonight, there was an undercurrent of something more, something he hadn’t said yet.
"and what do you think about the changes?" he asked, his voice almost a whisper now, his eyes lingering on you.
you turned to face him fully, your heart skipping a beat. "i think," you began, your voice soft but full of meaning, "i think i’ve never been more sure of anything in my life."
snape’s brow furrowed in confusion, but before he could ask, you reached out, your hand brushing his gently.
"i’m sure that, no matter what we’ve been through, this-" you lifted your hand, motioning between the two of you, "is where i’m meant to be."
he swallowed, his usual defenses momentarily slipping as he gazed at you with a tenderness that made your chest ache. there was a moment of silence as he just looked at you, like he was taking you all in, weighing his words carefully.
"y/n," he began, his voice steady but with an emotion you hadn’t expected. "i’ve spent too many years thinking i wasn’t worthy of a life like this. too many years lost in the shadows of my own mistakes. but after everything, after all we've been through… i can't imagine a future without you in it."
your heart swelled, and you reached out to him, brushing your fingertips against his cheek, a gentle touch that sent a shiver through both of you.
"you deserve every bit of happiness, severus," you whispered, your words soft but firm. "and i’m glad i get to be a part of it."
snape’s eyes softened even more, his lips curving into a tiny, rare smile, and he looked almost embarrassed by it. but that didn't matter to you. you loved him, every part of him. guarded, sharp, reserved, and even the small glimpses of vulnerability he let slip when he was with you.
before you could speak again, he reached into his robe pocket with a slow, deliberate movement, and your heart nearly stopped as he pulled out a small, velvet box. your breath caught in your throat.
“y/n,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper now, but it was steady. “i’ve spent so much time hiding from what i truly want. but with you, i feel like maybe it’s time i stop running.”
he opened the box to reveal a delicate silver ring, its simplicity stunning.
“will you marry me?” he asked, his voice thick with everything he had held inside for so long.
you blinked, stunned, your heart racing in your chest. the words didn’t come immediately, but the tears that welled up in your eyes were enough to say everything.
"yes," you breathed, your voice trembling with emotion, “yes, i will.”
snape let out a soft exhale, relief flooding his features as he gently slid the ring onto your finger. then, without another word, he pulled you into his arms, holding you close as if he was afraid to let you go.
you let out a soft laugh, pressing your face into his chest, overwhelmed with the love and warmth that enveloped you.
“you’re not going to let me go, are you?” you teased softly, your voice muffled against him.
he chuckled quietly, his hand sliding up your back as he tightened his hold. “not ever,” he murmured, his voice filled with something raw, something vulnerable you rarely got to hear from him. “i’ve spent my whole life waiting for something like this... i’m not letting go now.”
you smiled, feeling the happiest you’d ever been in his arms. “good. because neither am i.”
and for the first time, it felt like nothing else in the world mattered but the two of you. together, forever.
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