Tumgik
#i sometimes just don't feel hungry and i just don't eat
Text
Cw
3 notes · View notes
vraska-theunseen · 10 months
Text
who needs to be "productive" and "healthy" and "eat 3 meals a day" when you can wake up at noon and eat 2 peaches and then play bloons td6 for seven hours and then eat 2 more peaches
7 notes · View notes
Text
see sometimes I try and think about it all more logically. what if it was all happening to a friend. my friend!! you completely forgot to feed your kitten his wet food for five days? you haven't drunk water for a couple of days? you didn't shower or change your clothes for four days? you've only eaten two actual meals in the last two days? your average sleep in the last week is around five hours? my friend, you need help.
since it's me, I don't need help.
#most of it has been genuine forgetfulness/zoning out and 'oh it's 2am'#but like. last night i was lying awake hungry as anything bc all I had was dinner and not a great deal of that. if id been in a house on my#own i would've hopped up and got smth but i couldn't in case of disturbing grandma#(I have since purchased things that I will store near my bed that I can either take out of there#or leave them there for any such emergencies. if you call them emergencies. sometimes if i can't handle eating normally if i can't see what#im eating i can manage that - makes it less real somehow.)#honestly tho i am shocked by how immediately all my carefully created routines have fallen apart tbh#should i talk to my lecturer at uni who does the 12-2 class? to check she's ok with me eating in class? bc otherwise i will likely not eat#anything before dinnertime. probably skip breakfast#i don't know. i don't know anything. i love my course i love it so much and i don't know how i'll handle it#but i don't think i'd handle not doing it#idk im just so tired man#depression does a number on you frfr#okay that's it im turning on the heater finding some music and doing a lil dance. see if i feel better. maybe try a bit of hot water with#ginger or smth livening in it. i do want to try that. something to wake you up. ive been in a dead depressed limbo for five hours straight#and done nothing of use#tw ed#good news tho i find my anxiousness overall reduces the more depressed i am xD idk why lol#personal#puddleglum hours
7 notes · View notes
panb1mbo · 11 months
Text
people are like "i'm so neurodivergent uwu i read weird niche books for fun" and when u ask what it's like lolita or something by orwell and then the same people look at ur neurodivergent ass like you're a freak for reading the book of mormon for fun
6 notes · View notes
Note
Sorry for ruining your posting kfjdj I also didn't know such a person existed but I ended up finding the post where they defended him because it was the same one in which they said they hated Park cos she was abusive and manipulative to Haruka 😭😭 like. The dissonance between what they can't accept and what they CAN just cos they find a guy hot really gets me
OH NO YOU'RE GOOD THE TIMING WAS JUST REALLY FUNNY the halo effect and misogyny can hold grimy ugly hands unfortunately
Tumblr media
oh damn i aint readin all that. i skimmed it just for you but if i read it any more i was gonna feel my eyebrows merge as i pinched them together perplexed
4 notes · View notes
wachi-delectrico · 1 year
Text
Me, the three weeks I was home alone: Wow I'm eating on a much better schedule with a greater variety of meals and feel physically and mentally great, I haven't binged in forever and I'm able to hold back when I feel the urge to - why don't I do this when my family is around?
My family: *buys too much red meat, which I don't like much* *doesn't buy many vegetables and when they do they run out super quickly* *buys too much frozen and sugary food, which I don't like* *either nobody washes the dishes or they do but they keep stacking clean dishes on the countertop instead of putting them away, making the kitchen look super cluttered and hard to navigate* *they're downstairs all the time working and talking and yelling and doing a lot of noise and moving all over*
Me, starting to skip meals again due to the stress and lack of foods I enjoy: Ah,
5 notes · View notes
just-miru · 2 years
Text
silly things that confuse mein brain
2 notes · View notes
nonjuxtaposed · 1 year
Text
.
1 note · View note
tofixtheshadows · 1 month
Text
I've been thinking a lot lately about how Kabru deprives himself.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Kabru as a character is intertwined with the idea that sometimes we have to sacrifice the needs of the few for the good of the many. He ultimately subverts this first by sabotaging the Canaries and then by letting Laios go, but in practice he's already been living a life of self-sacrifice.
Saving people, and learning the secrets of the dungeons to seal them, are what's important. Not his own comforts. Not his own desires. He forces them down until he doesn't know they're there, until one of them has to come spilling out during the confession in chapter 76.
Specifically, I think it's very significant, in a story about food and all that it entails, that Kabru is rarely shown eating. He's the deuteragonist of Dungeon Meshi, the cooking manga, but while meals are the anchoring points of Laios's journey, given loving focus, for Kabru, they're ... not.
Tumblr media
I'm sure he eats during dungeon expeditions, in the routine way that adventurers must when they sit down to camp. But on the surface, you get the idea that Kabru spends most of his time doing his self-assigned dungeon-related tasks: meeting with people, studying them, putting together that evidence board, researching the dungeon, god knows what else. Feeding himself is secondary.
He's introduced during a meal, eating at a restaurant, just to set up the contrast between his party and Laios's. And it's the last normal meal we see him eating until the communal ending feast (if you consider Falin's dragon parts normal).
First, we get this:
Tumblr media
Kabru's response here is such a non-answer, it strongly implies to me that he wasn't thinking about it until Rin brought it up. That he might not even be feeling the hunger signals that he logically knew he should.
They sit down to eat, but Kabru is never drawn reaching for food or eating it like the rest of his party. He only drinks.
Tumblr media
It's possible this means nothing, that we can just assume he's putting food in his mouth off-panel, but again, this entire manga is about food. Cooking it, eating it, appreciating it, taking pleasure in it, grounding yourself in the necessary routine of it and affirming your right to live by consuming it. It's given such a huge focus.
We don't see him eat again until the harpy egg.
Tumblr media
What a significant question for the protagonist to ask his foil in this story about eating! Aren't you hungry? Aren't you, Kabru?
Tumblr media
He was revived only minutes ago after a violent encounter. And then he chokes down food that causes him further harm by triggering him, all because he's so determined to stay in Laios's good graces.
In his flashback, we see Milsiril trying to spoon-feed young Kabru cake that we know he doesn't like. He doesn't want to eat: he wants to be training.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Then with Mithrun, we see him eating the least-monstery monster food he can get his hands on, for the sake of survival- walking mushroom, barometz, an egg. The barometz is his first chance to make something like an a real meal, and he actually seems excited about it because he wants to replicate a lamb dish his mother used to make him!
Tumblr media
...but he doesn't get to enjoy it like he wanted to.
Tumblr media
Then, when all the Canaries are eating field rations ... Kabru still isn't shown eating. He's only shown giving food to Mithrun.
Tumblr media
And of course the next time he eats is the bavarois, which for his sake is at least plant based ... but he still has to use a coping mechanism to get through it.
Tumblr media
I don't think Kabru does this all on purpose. I think Kui does this all on purpose. Kabru's Post Traumatic Stress Disorder should be understood as informing his character just as much as Laios's autism informs his. It's another way that Kabru and Laios act as foils: where Laios takes pleasure in meals and approaches food with the excitement of discovery, Kabru's experiences with eating are tainted by his trauma. Laios indulges; Kabru denies himself. Laios is shown enjoying food, Kabru is shown struggling with it.
And I can very easily imagine a reason why Kabru might have a subconscious aversion towards eating.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Meals are the privilege of the living.
Tumblr media
15K notes · View notes
onemanscienceband · 21 days
Text
when i'm stressed and in the zone i lose my whole appetite. just fucking gone!
so when i'm in that state and someone asks "are you hungry?" it's such a simple question and yet it's the most stressful question you could have possibly asked me. i'm sitting here thinking "well all I've had all day is a bowl of oatmeal so i SHOULD be hungry but i'm honestly not. but i know if i do start eating something i'll get my appetite back. do i lie and say i'm hungry because i know i SHOULD eat something, or do I tell the truth"
and meanwhile i'm just sitting there looking like a goddamn idiot who doesn't know if he's hungry or not
0 notes
msdk-00 · 2 months
Text
am i anxious or actually nauseous? who knows?
1 note · View note
depressedskeleton · 10 months
Text
oh it's getting worse
#this shit has always been more about control and willpower than anything else for me#(i know. im this self aware and still keep falling into the same fucking pit 🥴)#and today yeah i was shaky with just two coffees and water and walking around the city for a uni thing#so i decided to eat a protein bar just that i wont faint before i get on my 4h train back#and after it i just felt. regret. like im clearly under my cal amount today i literally walked twice the amount that bar had#but all i could hear in my head was “i didn't need that”#like part of it has always been “i'm in control#in what i eat how much i eat like if i wanted to stop i could“ and its so cliche bUT I'VE ALWAYS BEEN ABLE TO#THAT WAS THE WHOLE POINT#but now i have a sandwich in my bag and my head hurts but im not hungry and i just don't want to eat it even tho i know i should#like yeah i don't feel hungry but i really should eat it now i should be able to eat it#but my head says “why? why should i?” BECAUSE IM IN SEVERE CALORIE DEFECIT DUMBASS#and this is so weird and stupid and embarrassing#but ive been to this pit like four times in the past 5 years in episodes and its never felt this consuming it#the episodes i would restrict were sometimes longer and sometimes shorter but I was always in control#ig i thought i was the fucking exception to a fucking rule#i needed this control to make it thru being at my dad's and all my pre-semester uni stress#it should be getting easier#and its fucking not#i know i have no one to blame except myself jesus fucking Christ
0 notes
targaryenluvs · 5 months
Text
OH BABY!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader, young!naive!tribute reader
summary: finnick found you to be as cute as ever. but you aren’t exactly the smartest in the room according to him. luckily, finnicks more than happy to help his sweet baby succeed, and he will not let you forget him.
warnings: AGE GAP (18 - 23) smut, FILTH THIS MAN IS DOWNBAD, possessive, corruption, pervy finnick, violent thoughts/intrusive, exhibitionist? degradation, oral (m & f), p in v, overstimulation, praise, mirror kink? spanking 👀 rough sex? tummy bulge, my first time writing smut be kind 😭
word count: 5k - this is literally the longest fic ive written.
a/n: this is what happens at 6am and i can’t sleep, thoughts are thunk - massive thank you to @motelofmermaids and @lust4lore for their help with reading and writing!!!
taglist: @coolchick333 @doublesideeye
“and the female tribute for district four, y/n l/n.” your eye involuntarily twitched at your name being called. the people around you, distanced themselves from you as a path was carved to your own hell.
as you walked to the platform you kept your head down. you were actually hopeful that you’d get through this reaping, your last and then never see the inside of the arena. but of course fate was against you. as you stood in front of the people you couldn’t help the silent tears that fled down your face.
your mothers face was tired and drained, she had a feeling you’d get picked. mothers intuition? your father was pissed, his little girl, his sweetheart, being thrown into an arena to die? and worst of all, there wasn’t anything he could do.
you felt alone, as if no one could help you. and as you said goodbye to the life you knew, you could only pray for safety, and a quick death.
as you were escorted to the train you fiddled with your sweater sleeves. pulling them down, rolling them up, just to focus your mind on something. it was chilly, most likely the air conditioning on the train and sometimes you had to hold down your skirt.
finnick couldn’t take his eyes of you once he saw you on the train. you looked so tiny in the chair and he couldn’t help but smile.
he practically had you all to himself.
“y/n?” your head shot up at your name being called and you were met with finnick odair in all his glory. “finnick? finnick odair?” even calling his name you sounded so unsure, so he smiled and nodded.
“i’m your mentor, and i promise to try my best to get you to win.” he sat down in front of you, spreading his legs and you felt your face warm up. he found you adorable, with a cute white sweater and a short black skirt. you had your hair down with the front parts tied up with a bow. his own personal present.
your shy demeanour reminded him of your young age, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. you were looking everywhere but at him and he loved it.
“do… do you think i can win?” god no. the tributes would eat you up alive, but he’d try his best. “i do.” with just two words of encouragement, you smiled at him for the first time.
finnick wanted you to smile at him forever.
“are you hungry?” the rumbling of your stomach answered his question, as you ducked your head in your hands in embarrassment.
he moved your hands aside, tilting your chin up, "it's okay to be hungry sweetheart, come on." he held his hand out for you and he laughed at your hesitance. "i don't bite, not unless you want me to.” the last part of his sentence came out hushed and you averted your eyesight from him.
there were so many foods laid out before you, and it wasn’t as if you were poor, but god, it all looked nice. the eclairs took your attention away as you reached for one, your finger sweeping cream off the top before placing it in your mouth. it was sickeningly sugary but you had a sweet tooth, you retracted your finger with a pop! and you somehow didn’t hear finnicks groan.
how on earth were you not realising how dirty it seemed? and it was there finnick realised how pure you were, “its so good,” you flashed him a toothy grin, “you'll have some won't you finnick?" you offered it up to him with two hands and how could he resist? the two of you spent the rest of your time on the train eating and talking, finnick utilising his time to get to know you.
you’d spent a day getting settled and were now to get ready for your interview.
after being prepped and readied, you were shuffled into your dressing room where analise, damian and sarah awaited. a range of compliments were thrown your way.
“oh isn’t she adorable?”
“i could pinch her cheeks forever!”
“you are precious!”
they were so nice to you and you loved it, but you barely ever learned how to take compliments so you ended up just nodding your head. “she is gorgeous,” you snapped your head up to the doorway and there stood your mentor, in all his glory. his compliment felt heavier than the rest, like he truly meant it, and you looked down at your hands as you fought off the blush threatening to rise on your cheeks.
in an hour you’d been through a whirlwind of makeup, dresses and jewels. orange, blue, black and all, you loved each one but for some reason after the four of them discussed you’d always be taken out of it.
it wasn’t until you were placed in an off the shoulder, floor length, white dress that you remained in it. and as you looked in the mirror you couldn’t help but stare. your hair was pinned up again, and small flowers were placed throughout. you felt like a princess and finnick agreed. you hadn’t even noticed that your stylists were gone until you heard the door shut.
it was just you and finnick.
“you look incredible.” finnick whispered, he was behind you now. his hand had a mind of its own as it placed a stray hair behind your ear. you turned your head his way, “really?” your voice was so soft and doused in disbelief. if he wasn’t next to you he wouldn’t have heard you. his hand trailed along your neck as he placed your hair behind, he nodded. “i have something for you.”
he pulled out a small seashell, and your eyes lit up, “oh finnick.” you sighed as he placed it in your hands. “it reminded me of you, small, gorgeous.” you looked up at him with doe eyes and he felt like grabbing you and taking you away.
you were breathtaking and you looked at him as if he was god.
“thank you finn, do you mind maybe putting it in my hair?” he took the trinket and placed it above your ear, entangling in with your hair. your heels were on but untied so finnick got onto his knees before patting his knee. he grabbed the straps before tieing them. his fingertips worked quickly and his face was concentrated. he was done and he looked up at you before turning you to the mirror.
finnicks hands were on your shoulder as he leaned in to whisper, “all done, you look perfect sweetheart.” you turned before reaching up on your tiptoes, “thank you finnick!” you kissed him on his nose before turning back and finnick grinned, “aren’t you cute?” he stood behind you, attached like a shadow. your skin felt soft underneath his fingertips and he couldn’t help but wander. down your arms, to your waist, he could feel you tensing up underneath him and he could feel his face trying to fight off his smirk.
“finnick?” you breathed out, “what’re you doing?” your voice was small, and unsure. “tell me to stop.” you should. you should tell him to stop. but all you could think about was finnicks hands and how good they felt.
“it’s time!” damian shouted out as you peeled away from finnick to open the door. damian was all too happy to see you as he clapped his hands together. “ah, my special girl you are truly an angel.” finnick knew that. finnick has already said that. finnick had you in his arms and oh so close and this idiot took you away. his sweet girl.
finnick was wondering where his trident was so that he could impale him through the stomach.
“come on y/n.” he ushered you out the door but you managed to slip another look at finnick and all you saw was pure rage.
the interview went well, in your eyes at least.
caesar was as upbeat as usual and it did mostly centre around your dress and looks but you felt you could try your best to use it to your advantage.
the audience was enamoured and you felt you did your best. “and y/n, tell us, what’s your secret strategy for the games? any tricks up your sleeve?” you patted his knee before pointing at him jokingly, “well caesar, it wouldn’t be a secret if i divulged now would it?” everyone loved your answer and caesar doubled over, “aren’t you cheeky! isn’t our diamond here so playful? but a sweetheart nonetheless!” the crowd agreed loudly.
“now, since you came out i think we’ve all been wondering where that seashell came from. it doesn’t exactly match the theme of your outfit.” you could hear the murmurs from the crowd agreeing with his words.
“am i right in suspecting a certain blonde mentor of yours?” you pursed your lips and a giggle began to form as caesar pumped his fist in the air, “i think we got it! can we expect the two of you together once you win?” you’d never even had a boyfriend and here you were being put together with the finnick odair, you were sure everyone could tell how giddy you were.
you felt as if you had a million eyes on you, your whole body was heating up as you buried your head in your hands. “ah we caught her out! someone’s got a crush! but then again it’s finnick odair so don’t we all?” a bunch of cheers erupted as you beamed.
“well it was a wonderful to meet you, truly! our diamond here, y/n l/n!” screams and shouts directed your way came in full force as you waved at caesar and blew kisses to all. as you walked back you bumped into someone.
“y/n right?” the boy from three, theo.
you nodded and stuck your hand out, “nice to meet you!” he looked down at your hand and back up at you before laughing, “very formal, i like it. i’m theo, your dress is nice but i think the girl wearing it is breathtaking.” you giggled before tucking your hair behind your ear.
finnick stood with the other mentors and held himself back from shoving haymitch out the way to get him to stop rambling on. his grip on his glass was solid, so it wasn’t a surprise when it shattered. “oh my!” effie yelled out as finnick apologised before someone came to clean it up. he stepped around the person before excusing himself to get to you.
you were laughing, hard. what in panem was so funny?
you were wiping tears away from your eyes as finnick joined the two of you, his hand on your back as theo nodded at him, “finnick.” he hated him. why the hell did theo speak as if he knew him personally? his smug face was unbelievably irritating. “finnick! how’d i do?” and the second you spoke he felt the anger dissipate, he adored the way you waited for his response as if it held all the answers.
“you did well.” finnicks answer felt snippy and made you feel as if you’d done something wrong. “we should get going.” he directed you away from the boy as you shouted out, “i’ll see you around!”
the entire elevator ride was, to put it lightly, awkward. it left you feeling confined in what little space you and finnick had. “finn? are you okay?” you placed your hand on his arm and stood in-front of him. you were hoping he’d explain what was wrong but what you didn’t expect was to be pushed against the side of the elevator and finnick kissing you. his hand was on your waist again and he shuffled your dress up, slithering underneath.
you moaned in his mouth, his hands playing and gripping at your ass. in reaction, your fingers thread through his hair and your grip tightened, “finn- not here.” the elevator was glass and you were scared of people seeing. finnick found it hard to care, drunk off your perfume. in a panic, you pulled away from him, your hands cradling his face to make him listen. “i’ve… never,” the whisper hung over the both of you, the tension in the air thick and hot.
instead of being met with judgment, he murmured, “i’ll make it good for you, i promise.” finnick had finally gotten a taste, and he could only crave more. his lips met your neck, his warm tongue painting wet desire into your skin. it was almost too much for little old you, letting out quiet whimpers as he explored you. his sleeves were rolled and you needed to ground yourself, your nails dug into his veiny arms. “finn-” you protested but he could tell you didn’t want to. just a little longer and he could get you to give in. “just let me feel you.”
the elevator stopping brought the two of you back as you fixed your dress and finnick fixed his own hair, running his hands through it. he directed you out of the elevator and nodded in acknowledgment to the people entering. as you walked onto your floor you were met with servants, stylists and others. it seems damian and analise had taken it upon themselves to invite some friends and you were eager to meet them.
whereas finnick wanted to rip your dress off and take you till the morning.
the same dainty hands which were running all over him were shaking others and waving as you all sat down to eat. as everyone feasted away you couldn’t help but play with your own meal. you were flushed and all you wanted was to kiss finnick again. he was sitting next to you and wasn’t hungry for food, he wanted to eat something else.
your dress didn’t hide much of your chest and when you reclined in your seat, crossing your arms and pushing up your breasts?
finnick needed to see more.
the clattering of his fork on the floor drew the attention of some, but they went back to their conversations and bets. “i’ll get it for you.” you pushed back your seat and got down to your knees, flicking up the tables sheet and searched around for it before hitting cold metal. you reached your hand out with the fork to finnick. his cock was throbbing at the image of you on the floor, chest on display and a sweet smile on your face. he bent down and grinned, “you look good on your knees sweetheart.”
his words went straight down between your legs and your mouth fell open at his words.
such vulgar words from such a beautiful man.
his hand came down to close your jaw. you felt, weird. as you sat back on your chair you felt warm? but a good warm? it was tantalising. you wondered if it was normal.
finnick would tell you right?
“finnick.” his head turned your way, “what is it y/n?” you leaned closer and so did he, your hands cupped around his ear, “i feel weird.” his eyebrows shot up as a sign of interest, “oh? what’s wrong honey? where do you feel weird?” you gulped, your throat felt dry and for some reason it felt dirty to talk about.
your eyes drifted downwards and as you looked up finnicks eyes seemed darker. “here?” his touch was soft on your thigh underneath the table as you gasped.
“everything all right dear?” sarah questioned as you nodded. it felt so good, his touch. but it wasn’t exactly where needed, his hand trailed closer and higher, until it was gone. your head snapped up at him as he smirked at you, mocking you.
for the rest of the night he didn’t even pay attention to you. and you had no clue why.
you couldn’t sleep after the day you had and all your mind was thinking of was finnick. finnicks hands, his arms, his mouth, his words.
“i don’t bite, unless you want me to.”
“yes, here.”
“i’ll make it so good for you.”
“just let me feel you.”
“you look good on your knees sweetheart.”
your room was too quiet, making it unchallenging for your thoughts to run wild at the anticipation of finnick odair. you couldn’t bear it, so you left to the busiest room you could think of.
your leg was shaking up and down and your mind was pacing whilst your body couldn’t. the butterflies were practically knocking around in your stomach and you hoped perhaps finnick could help. he’d help you right? but he didn’t before. maybe he was just tired? you were so desperate for help and answers that you’d forgone knocking and walked right in.
only to be met with an extremely wet finnick odair.
by your luck your eyes were probably poking out of your head at the sight of him, you couldn’t help but stare. it was your first time being in the same room as a man so, naked? for the lack of a better word, he still had a very short towel wrapped around his bottom half. was it small? or did he make it look small?
“see something you like sweetie?” god his voice was so saccharine, how the hell did his voice work you up? “i- i wanted to t-talk.” and you were stuttering, great! he walked closer to you and you stepped back, all the way into his wall. “yeah? does my pretty girl wanna talk?” you nodded along dumbly as your breath quickened. “words sweetie, use your words.” you swallowed, “yes.”
his thumb caressed your cheek before brushing along your lips, “you sure you just want to talk?” and there they were, the butterflies. you shook your head, “no? what do you want?” you played with your night dress, “you?” it was a soft murmur and finnick wanted you to beg. he’d been pining after you since the second he saw you, it’s only fair right?
“where do you want me?” his words were hot in your ear, his body was wet and your white night dress was suddenly see through. his hand rested on your ass, “here?” you shook your head, “no?” his thumb brushed over your nipple as your nails pressed into his neck, pulling him into yours. your breath was heavy and he was unrelenting.
his hand moved from your ass to cup your front as you gasped, “here?” you nodding along dumbly, “please finnick, i’ve been wanting you for the whole day, i’ll be good for you i promise.” your words were music to his ears, “yeah? you’re gonna be good f’me?”
“yes, yes, yes.” you whined as you wrapped your arms around his neck. standing on your tiptoes as you bit your lip. “you gonna let me use you yeah? do whatever i want?” you were practically jumping up and down at this point, your tits with you. your straps were pushed down as your dress fell down to the floor. his cock was throbbing at the sight of you, he’d been waiting for this.
“then on your knees honey.” you were quick to obey as he pushed you down to the cold floor, his towel quickly ripped off, courtesy of you.
it was your first time doing anything sexual so any cock was bound to be big in your eyes. finnick loved the sight of you on your knees, innocent as ever. fully nude, hands slotted nicely between your thighs. he wanted to ruin you. he ran his hand along his dick, pumping it before resting the tip on your lips.
as if you were on auto-control, your lips parted to let him through. a salty taste flooded through your mouth as he cooed down at you.
“you’re doing so well for me.”
“pretty baby on her knees, who knew you’d be such a slut?”
your eyes flickered up at him as you moved your head forwards on your own accord. “fuck.” he groaned as you replaced his hands with yours.
he wanted to go easy on you.
but kitten licks at the tip and soft kisses weren’t doing it for him. you opened your mouth again, gaining confidence and feeding off of finnicks praises. his large hand placed on the back of your head, fingers spread out as he thrusted down your throat.
the sounds that filled his room were lewd. squelches and groans as you tried your best to keep going. your cheeks hollowed out as finnick guided you, “relax your throat, try breathe through your nose. if it’s too much just tap my thigh sweetie.”
you retracted, catching your breath as you gazed up at him whilst simultaneously blinking away the tears in your eyes but a few fell free. he couldn’t help but moan. your messy mouth mixed with your saliva and his pre-cum. “you think theo’s this big? you think he could make you choke on his dick?” you shook your head immediately.
his member felt cold without the warmth of your mouth, but he was feeling nice so he let you take a break. “too big for you sweetie?” you shook your head furiously, “naw is my baby tough?” you giggled as you wrapped your lips around him again, your tongue flat against the underside of his dick as he eased himself in. “ah- fuck.”
but he can only hold out for so long as he began to fasten his pace, chasing his high. your fingers dug into his thighs right under his ass, for some reason you seemed to have something to prove as you took him all the way. your moans egged him on as his hips thrust forwards, “so good f’me, my s-sweet girl.” his praises fueled you on as your nose met his naval. salty tears fell down your cheeks and finnick was in his right mind to lick them all up.
god you were better than he’d imagined. and trust him, he’d imagined a lot.
“swallow for me yeah? be a good girl and open wide.” thick cum coated your tongue as you gladly accepted. finnick proudly gazed upon your painted face. watery eyes, sticky face. all for him. you gulped it down before wiping off the remaining waste on your face, eyeing finnick up before licking it off your fingers.
“what happened to the diamond? only a whore for me right?” your fingers were wet as you pulled them out. “uh-huh.” your agreed as he pulled you up. “do you even know what that means?” he teased as you puckered your lips before shaking your head. “thought so, you wanna be good for me?” you nodded, “on the bed baby.”
you sat down on the bed as you waited for finnick to join you. he situated himself between your legs, running his hands along them. “lean back for me. you took me so well, you want me to make you feel good too?” your eyes widened at the idea, “yes please finn.” his hands reached up and rested under your breasts, “i don’t know if you’ve earned it honey.” your lips twisted into a slight frown, your waterline glazing over.
“i was! i did what you asked finn, please.”
he palmed your breast, massaging it softly as you threw your head back, “please. please keep going.” your begging was more than enough for him, his baby asked so nicely no?
“yeah? you like me playing with you?” incoherent babbles fell from your lips as finnicks mouth kissed your breast. his hand trailed down to feel you, and he was met with warm wetness. the moan you let out was ungodly, “finnick please! oh god it feels so- so good.” he couldn’t help admire you, eyes screwed shut, hands clutching the pristine white sheets.
“oh baby, can you be quiet for me? quiet for finn?” a string of ‘uh-huhs’ came from your mouth as finnick slid a finger into you, a tight fit. “oh my god!” you yelped before slamming your hand over your mouth. he was knuckle deep as he worked his finger in before curling it, then another, then another. his free hand was pushing your hips down into the mattress as your hips lifted upwards with every move he made.
“finnick, finnick. you feel so good.” you cried out as he retracted his fingers before curling them upwards. he knew exactly what to do, where to be, what to say. his name fell from your lips like a prayer and your nails raked down his back as he grunted.
now, finnicks fingers were one thing, but his mouth?
his tongue pressed against your clit and you swear you saw god, finnick was probably the god. his tongue flicked over your clit as his fingers entered your cunt again, the pressure in your stomach was building so high you were afraid of the fall.
a wave of pleasure fell over you as finnick talked you through it, “that’s it baby, let go.” he hovered over you as his fingers worked your cunt. your nails had bloodied his back, scratched raw. as you moved your fingers finnick hissed into your ear. “m’ sorry, m’ so so sorry.” your head was spinning and you wanted to rest, but apparently finnick had other ideas as he lowered himself to your core. your mind was hazy as your hand clutched the pillow your head laid on, the other twisted in his hair.
“what’re you doing?” finnicks green eyes pierced through you as he raised his head from in between your thighs. featherlight kisses trailed upwards to your pussy as your thighs twitched and closed around his head, still sensitive as ever. “just want a taste, clean you up.” he mumbled as he tongue breached your entrance and you were back where you were before.
this man was driven youd give him that.
“finn s’ too much, please.” your words were slurred as he delved inside. he couldn’t find it in himself to let up, you were so sweet, he just wanted a taste. so he kept going, his tongue, his hands, his words. if there was one thing you knew about finnick it was that he could talk anyone into anything. so you found yourself squirming underneath his strong arms, forearm pinning you down to the bed as he made your back arch and your toes curl.
“sweet baby, so sweet.” all attempts of getting away, only caused him to get annoyed with you, can’t you just lay down and let him ruin you? at this point it was for his pleasure rather than yours. your thighs were practically squeezing his head and neck but he kept going. you didn’t know where to put your hands, pulling his hair was no good. your hand somehow ended up on your clit, moving in a circular motion as the other palmed your breast.
each time he made you come you rested your head, energy depleted. but again he ended up between your legs and pathetic pleas from you did nothing to make him stop.
“wanna make you feel good.”
“just one more, you can take it sweetheart.”
when your fourth rolled around you were so far gone. “pretty baby, not a single thought up there huh?” you couldn’t even bring yourself to respond, and he didn’t expect you to. he brushed away the stray hairs from your face and kissed you passionately. “you did so well f’me honey. made me proud, you got one more in you for me?” it wasn’t a question, his dick was painfully hard and he only knew of one solution.
you tiredly shook your head, “no more finny.” he grinned, “no? you don’t want my cock?” your breath hitched at his words and you knew you were fucked. “mhm. want it.” you were reduced to one to two words in a sentence.
“yeah you do. on your knees baby.” you tiredly rolled over, situating yourself on your knees and the palms of your hands as finnick kneaded your ass. his hands grazed over the skin before-
smack!
“think you should be able to see yourself baby.” his hand yanked at your hair as you found your reflection glaring back at you. “so pretty, aren’t you?” finnick knew you were horrible at accepting compliments and he was more than happy to use it against you.
smack!
you’d taken too long to answer, but based on finnicks smug expression you could tell he was hoping for it. “you have to answer baby.” finnicks arm came across your waist, pulling you up, flush with his chest as his hands pawed at your chest.
“you wanna be my baby yeah?” you could only manage moans and finnick was not happy. he threw you forwards as you caught yourself with your hands infront of you.
smack!
“fucked you so good you can’t even talk.” he taunted you as he dragged his cock in between your drenched folds. finnicks groans were deep, and so hot. “you know how long i wanted to fuck you baby? in that short skirt on the train? when you licked up that cream? my girls dirty huh?” you didn’t respond and it only fuelled his fire, he’d wanted you for so long and now you had the audacity to ignore him?
he thrusted into you without warning and you screamed out. “want to act like a slut? i’ll treat you like one. fuck!” your walls were squeezing down on him, sucking him in and he was more than happy to oblige. his hips snapped against your ass as you gripped onto the sheets for dear life. his grip on your hips bruised, leaving a fiery impression in their wake. finnick had stamina for days, he was strong and built. you were small and fragile, finnick was glad to be the one to break you in.
he pulled you up to him again as he kissed you frantically, capturing your bottom lip in between his teeth. he was relentless in his pursuit for his high, he marked up any place he could as he continued to drive into you with determination.
“bet you dreamed of this, of me.” his hand gripped your throat, his eyes bore into your own, finnick was inescapable. every touch, every thrust, all him. you were enveloped in his being and he worshipped yours. finnick continued to pound into you harshly, cock gliding easily against your inner walls. he was deep inside but he wanted to be deeper. “yes! yes! harder!” you cried out.
his hand pressed down onto your stomach, “feel that?” his breath was prominent by your ear, “oh god!” you exclaimed, it felt as if you were filled to the brim as he bottomed out in you. thick, hot cum released into you as his and your moans were raising in pitch and his hips began to stutter.
the room was filled with the sound of slapping skin, the promise of silence forgotten. “let go baby, you’re close. let go.” the two of you had eachother and it was more than enough. his groans were deep and animalistic as he spilled himself inside you. your hand reached behind you to caress his neck. thank yous spilled out from you, your whole being was ignited, you never knew you could feel so good.
the two of you lied together, entangled in sheets and a mess of limbs. you couldn’t tell where finnick odair began and y/n l/n started. all you knew was that he was yours, and you were his.
you’d fallen asleep a bit ago, your chest rising and falling steadily. finnicks arm curled around you as you rested on his chest. from the moonlight spilling into his room he could view the bruises tattering your smooth skin. as he traced over them he couldn’t help but grin, he could imagine you limping in the arena.
you sure as hell weren’t forgetting him anytime soon.
6K notes · View notes
inkskinned · 1 year
Text
"the curtains weren't blue on purpose. why should we care?"
my love! let me ask you this - did you eat breakfast today? this tiny moment in your life. just think about it. did you?
for some of you, the answer is yes and for some of you it is technically and for some of you it is does coffee count. some of you reached for cereal or gmo-free overnight oats or frozen waffles or 3-day-old pizza. sometimes we eat the same thing, every day, for weeks. i get tired of eggs randomly, only to go back to craving them desperately. i'm cuban; i take my coffee like my father showed me, very milky and sweet.
some of us ate in a hurry. some of us hate eating breakfast but if we don't we will get nauseous later. some of us took our meds first or took our meds after. some of us have a kitchen 5 feet wide and sometimes it's the biggest room in the house. some of us are confident there will be food in the pantry and some of us flinch and say well, the paycheck is coming. some of us turn on a podcast while we eat or we scroll our phones or write in our diaries.
some of us are choosing, specifically, not to eat breakfast. some of us are too busy. some of us are pretending we "just forgot," but we are ignoring the warning signs that everything feels too-heavy. some of us are so consumed with anxiety or grief that we can't eat. some of us can't stand up long enough to make our coffee. some of us have no table to sit down and eat.
i cannot tell you what an artist "meant" by their choices. but they did have to make a choice, conscious or otherwise, to give you information. to give you a little bit more light. each of these choices are little stars of data; connecting speckles for you to weave through, drawing a line.
you cannot use a mirror in a dark room. for some of us; we will not care that the curtains are blue, because that will just be a data point and not enough light to see by. for some of us, the blue curtains will be the same as our childhood bedroom. it will make us seasick. for some of us, blue will be the color of frostbite. it might look like a pixel up close; but from a distance, oh! the picture blooms.
i cannot tell you what will stick out for you. what will carry meaning. some of you will read the sentence "i didn't have breakfast today" and say "this means nothing." some of you will read that and say "oh, me neither." some of you will say "this means the character is probably a little grouchy." some of you will say "oh, i wonder if they're okay. why didn't they eat anything?" ... art is a mirror. i am holding hands with you, over space and time, and asking you to feel something with me.
i want you to read my work and find a blue pair of curtains. i want you to read my work and find things in it that i never imagined placing. i have no way of knowing what will resonate with you, that's true. and maybe i just was hungry while i wrote this, and thinking about the eggs in my fridge. but if you found meaning, that meaning is yours. it cannot be erased just because i didn't "intend" it. you created a different world by interpreting my work. it's collaborative! that's beautiful! that's stunning!
just! imagine looking at the night sky and saying - it's stupid to have a favorite constellation or a favorite star. they're just there.
because here's the thing - across centuries and cultures, we look up. we still find meaning in the stars. these beautiful, lovely scattered accidents. are you looking? they call. and we look back and say oh! of course we are!
27K notes · View notes
some-bunniii · 4 months
Text
My Charming Red Savior [2]
・❥ Two odd visitors and a mugging. Can’t you stay out of trouble?
| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |
x: he’s back!! a little longer this time, 8k words. enjoy!
Tumblr media
That evening after meeting Alastor, you sat at your friend’s dining table, your mind racing.
Your finger aimlessly twisted that gold ring he had magically placed on your digit, as you explained what happened. The creep harassing you, Alastor swooping in to save you. All of it laid out for your friend to digest. Which she wasn’t taking it very well.
“I mean, I'm glad that demon helped you out of that, but you should have gotten away as soon as possible! Haven’t you heard what he’s done, what kind of deals people have made with him?”
You sighed, feeling a bit frustrated with your friend's skepticism. "Look, I get it, you're worried. But Alastor isn't what everyone makes him out to be. He helped me when I needed it most. Besides, who are we to judge someone solely based on rumors?"
Your friend leaned forward, her eyes fixed on the ring adorning your finger. "What about that? What if it's some sort of trap he set for you?"
You instinctively pulled your hand back, a protective gesture. "Don't be ridiculous. Alastor wouldn't do something like that. He's... different."
"Different? More like dangerous," she countered, reaching out to grab your hand. "Come on, let me see that ring. We can take it to someone to see if it’s been magically altered."
Dangerous? He saved you from someone dangerous! Yes, he was a demon. A sinner, who probably did some bad things, and most likely continues to do bad things. Except, for the fact he didn’t leave you, a defenseless nobody, to be taken off and.. you couldn’t even think about it. 
You jerked your hand away from her hand, the ring glinting in the lamplight. "There’s nothing wrong with the ring, you’re just being paranoid. It’s.. comforting, actually."
Your friend sighed, frustration evident in her voice. "I just don't want to see you get hurt. Please, at least consider what I'm saying."
You softened, realizing she was only looking out for you. "I appreciate your concern, I really do. But I’m not a child, I can make my own decisions."
Your friend relented after a moment, sinking back into her chair. She nodded slowly, agreeing with your statement.
At that moment, your friend’s husband had entered the room. A large pot of steaming foodstuff in his oven-mitt protected hands as he walked. 
“I hope you guys are hungry!” He said cheerfully, the tension in the room easing with his upbeat demeanor. You quite liked him, he had some good jokes and cared about those around him.
You smile gratefully, welcoming the distraction from the intense conversation. “Absolutely starving,” you reply, grateful for the opportunity to shift the focus to something more light-hearted.
Your friend’s husband sets the pot on the table, filling the room with the delightful aroma of home-cooked food. “Well, dig in!” he encourages, serving everyone generous portions.
As you take a bite, the flavors dance on your palate, and your eyes light up as you eat. 
“What is this?” You turn to her husband, who looked up from his bowl, face stuffed with food.
“Crawfish Étouffée! A popular dish from New Orleans, back on Earth. Do you like it?”
You nodded vigorously. Is this what Jambalaya tastes like? If so, you really needed to try it. Maybe, you’d see Alastor again, and he could give you that recipe he had mentioned? 
As your thoughts drifted back to the red demon, your finger began to twist the ring around your digit once more. Why did it bring you such comfort? You had no idea. 
Sometimes, if you put your hand to your face, you could smell faint traces of his scent, that you had first memorized when you walked side by side with him. It smelled like an old cologne, something that you couldn’t quite recognize from your days. Maybe, it was back when he was alive? 
Lemony, hay-like and grassy. A whiff of licorice. Something peppery too? You couldn’t quite place it. But every deep inhale sent you into a lull. A trance, almost.
Your finger still mindlessly caressed the golden band a while later, during the early hours of the morning. You had been sweeping the front doors to the formalwear store you worked at, tidying up before it would be opened for customers. 
It wasn’t until you heard the sound of someone clearing their throat, did you get pulled back into reality.
“Pardon me, miss. Are you guys open?” 
Turning around to address the voice, you find no one. It wasn’t until you looked down did you see the demon man. He resembled that of an imp. Dark red skin with thin, striped horns that peaked out of the top of his head. 
He wore a white turtleneck, with long white hair that curled around his chin. His eyes were unreadable, hidden behind a pair of sunglasses. They were Ray-Burn glasses. You could immediately tell from the bridge, which were curved to resemble a half-circle rather than an oval. 
You also knew how high-end that brand was, and it wasn’t easy getting a pair either. The wait for those was no joke. And, this style was from their newest collection, which meant that he had to be of some importance to get one so soon.
His posture also struck you as odd, especially for an imp. He stood tall, shoulders back, head held high. Despite being a part of one of the lowest social classes in Hell, the demon regarded everyone and everything around him with an air of confidence and assertiveness. 
It was also odd that he was wearing sunglasses so early in the morning, there wasn’t really much light to need protection from. Maybe he had some bat genetics in him?
You smiled at him, but shook your head. “I’m sorry, sir. We’re closed right now. You’ll have to come back later.”
The imp visibility deflated at your words, a frown etched on his face. You could see his eyes through the shades just enough to show them flicking down the streets. 
“Oh, okay. That’s fine, I guess. Thanks, I'll just.. have to figure something else out.” 
He backed away, as he scanned the nearby stores again. He muttered to himself, too quiet for you to hear, but his tone sounded scolding. As if he was berating himself. The demon bit his lip, as if he was contemplating something.
A pang of sympathy hit you, as you watched him become more anguished. It seemed like he really needed whatever was inside, and you didn’t have a reason to deny him business other than to follow the official hours of operation. 
Placing the broom against the brick wall, you pulled out a set of keys. The demon turned slightly as he heard its jingle, and you met his shaded gaze. 
“There isn’t really anything else I need to do before opening though, so I suppose it’s not a big issue letting you inside.”
The imp perked, a smile blooming on his lips at your words. You bent to turn the lock with a click. Pulling the door handle, you pulled it behind you, allowing the demon to follow you inside.
“That is so kind of you! Truly, you don’t get to meet many kind and considerate people in this place.”
Well, it was Hell. Being friendly to strangers was not a common occurrence. You just weren’t one of the, well, bad ones. Sure, you had some flaws, you weren’t a resident for no reason. But, you prided yourself in having a reasonable moral code.
“Don’t worry, I know what I need. I’ll be quick!” The imp promised, as he passed through the entryway. The large room was dark, besides the morning light casting through the windows.
You flicked on the lights, and the overhead lamps lit the interior of the store. There were mannequins lining the dark-blue walls, styled in different tuxedos and dress shirts. Next to them were rows of shelves, each specific to a type of garment. There were dress pants, vests, shoes, and smaller accessories like ties and belts. 
As you walked behind the black-granite countertop, the imp had hurried over to a mannequin facing out of a glass display. He reached down near its feet, a small shelf lifted from the floor. A pile of red suits was neatly tucked next to the display. 
Gingerly, he lifted to the top piece, examining it thoroughly. After a few moments, he brought it closer to his chest, before turning to you. Your hands tapped against the display of the digital cash register, readying it for service.
You looked up just as he placed the garment on the counter, your eyes scanning the suit. Strange, he was still wearing those shades. You simply smiled at him, before pulling the item closer to you. Carefully, you unfolded it, examining its form.
It was a beautiful red tuxedo, with golden lapels. Dark-red buttons, with white cuffs. It was a women’s suit, which was rare for you to see, since the store mostly marketed towards men. 
“What a wonderful piece!” You exclaimed, your tone dripping with customer-satisfying professionalism. “Getting this for a special someone?” 
The imp nodded. “For my daughter. She runs a hotel a few blocks away, up the hill. The Hazbin Hotel, if you've heard of it? She needed a new suit, and this was the perfect fit.”
The hotel that was supposed to help sinners with redemption? You’ve heard bits and pieces, mostly when you watched that disastrous interview with Katie Killjoy. You couldn’t recall who ran it, though.
“A little, but you sure do have an eye for style!” You nodded, grabbing the small tag from the sleeve to input the information into the register.
“Well, it was my sweetheart who picked it out first,” the imp gushed, “I can’t take all the credit, I'm not good at these sorts of things, anyway.”
“Do they have a background in fashion?” 
“No, they’re an artist,” the demon beamed, his voice growing softer as he spoke of his lover, “I can promise, you’ve never seen a real painting until you’ve seen theirs. If it were my way, I'd fill every billboard with them, instead of those.. repulsive pornography ads they have downtown.” 
The imp held a look of pride and admiration as he spoke, obviously having full confidence in his claim. You pulled up the item on your screen, and read him the price. It was not a cheap suit, but the demon had no reaction to the total and simply pulled out his wallet. 
“Is business running smoothly at the hotel? Do you guys get a lot of guests?”
The imp contemplated for a moment, before pulling out a large sum of money, placing it gently on the counter. You reached for it, before licking your finger and counting through the bills.
“Not entirely. It just opened recently, and, with the demons it caters to? Hah, there’s not many around here with the mindset of redemption. But, I'm going to be helping her out, supporting her with the work.” 
What a nice father, helping his daughter out like that. If only someone like that had helped you when you were younger, maybe you would be stu-
“Especially when it comes to keeping an eye on some of the.. colorful characters she calls staff. Like that Radio Demon.” As the imp spoke, you could hear the disdain in his tone, as he uttered that name. Your head shot up from the bills in your hand at his words.
Radio demon? Alastor? Alastor was working at the Hazbin Hotel? 
“As in, the tall red guy with deer antlers? Carries a staff around with a microphone on it?” You questioned him, excitement lacing your voice.
“Yes. Do you know him? Word of advice, stay away from that demon. He’s nothing but a self-serving, pompous show-off.” 
That couldn’t be true, could it?
Quickly, you placed the bills into the cash register, pulling out change to hand to the imp. As he took the money in your hand, you found it right to defend Alastor.
“He helped me out of a tough spot awhile ago, practically saved my life, actually.” 
The demon regarded you for a moment, eyebrows raised as he took in your words. He didn’t argue, seemingly trying to leave as fast as possible. Back to the hotel presumably. “Hmph. Well, just be careful, you never know with demons like him.”
You were about to wish him farewell and turn away, before his hand lifted once more. Looking down, he held another stack of money in his hands, you could faintly read ‘100’ on one of the bills alone.
“For your kindness,” the demon stated simply, giving you a wink, “I enjoyed our short chat, there’s not many people down here I'm interested in talking to. Go treat yourself.” 
Your eyes widened at his words. How did he have so much money he could just.. give it away?! You almost wanted to reject his offering. But, money was money, so you took them from his grip. 
“I-I don’t know what to say, but thank you! This is very generous of you.” 
He only shrugged, sending you a charming smile. “I am indeed a very generous person. Just don’t spend it on drugs, or anything like that.”
As you handed him the small pink bag, his shaded gaze landed on the ring on your finger, and he leaned in just an inch to get a closer look.
“Boy, that is a fine piece of jewelry you’ve got there! Very nice, was it from a lover? It really makes a statement! Just curious.. do you by any chance know where you got it from?”
You tilted your head, wondering why he wanted to know, was he planning on getting one himself? You just shook your head, you couldn’t really tell him it magically poofed onto your finger by the same demon he held negative feelings for. 
He nodded, muttering something like ‘that’s fine’, before pivoting away from you towards the door. 
“Adios!” He called, a hand in the air in farewell as he strolled to the exit. The bell above the door jingled as it closed behind him, and you saw him step near the curb, away from your view. 
Suddenly, a flash of gold illuminated the small window on the door. Crossing the room, you peeked out the large display window. There was no one on the street, even when you cranked your head to both sides of the street. It’s like he just.. vanished. Strange.
You flipped the large sign on the window from ‘Closed’ to ‘Open’ before returning behind the counter. Your fingers still holding the money he gave you, your mind elsewhere as you waited for the day to begin. 
Your thoughts were still on that encounter when the assistant manager walked up to you a few hours later. He was a rather short, plump man with small horns protruding from his head. His skin was a pale blue, his figure resembling that of an ox. Alan was his name. 
You weren’t very fond of him, he always threw flirtatious comments and jokes at you. Always insisting to join you behind the counter, or lean right over your shoulder when you worked. He reminded you too much of that creep from the streets, which made you uncomfortable.
What was up with you always attracting the questionable suitors? Maybe your friend at the cafe was right, you weren’t going to find ‘The One,’ you’d just have to settle for less.
Alan would always try and pry into your personal life, asking if you had a lover, or kids. You’d simply change the conversation as smoothly as possible. If you told him we’re single, he’d no doubt try and court you. Which made you nervous, he didn’t seem like someone who could take a rejection. 
You weren’t able to say, ‘why yes, I have a hubby of my own!’ because you never had proof. Without a ring, and the rest of your co-workers aware of your singlehood, you knew lying to him would have consequences.
Not to mention, he was your boss. He had power, and unless you wanted to end up homeless on the street, you had to keep a friendly facade with him. 
Luckily, he wasn’t around much. Except today your manager had meetings out of town, and he was the substitute. So, for now, you were stuck with him.
“Hey, you still know how to use that sewing machine in the back, right?” He asked you after you had finished assisting a customer near the large display window.
You nodded, curious about his question. In truth, being a tailor sounded much better than working for customer service. You had spent late nights slowly practicing the craft, on that ancient sewing machine in your basement. Maybe, you’d use that money the imp gave you to buy a new one.
“Well, Darlene just called in, which means I got no one as my seamstress. We’ve got a few pieces in need of mending, you think you can handle that?”
“Oh, sure! I can do that, no problem.”
It was then you heard the bell above the front entrance jingle slightly and the creak as the door opened, which caused you to turn sharply to greet the newcomer. Except.. there was no one there.
That was strange. There were other customers milling about, but you were standing in a position that made it impossible to miss anyone exiting the building. 
“Must be having strong winds or something.” Alan remarked, and you turned back to him. As you moved, you noticed the corner next to the doorway was more shaded than usual. As if a large black shadow had taken residence there. Perhaps an overhead light went out? You’d have to check on that later. 
“Anyway, I wanted to ask you something,” Alan started, a flirtatious smile on his lips as he lowered his voice, “I’ve got VIP access to a new club that just opened a few blocks down. I was thinking you and I could get some drinks and have a little fun, whatcha say?” 
You groaned internally. Not this again. How were you going to say no this time? 
“Well, I mean, um- you see the thing is…”
Your eyes went down to the ring on your digit, that little A shimmering in the light. Maybe, you could use this.
“… I’m already taken!” You exclaim, your hand shooting up to give Alan a front row seat at the prize on your person. 
“You are?” He asked incredulously.
“Mhm!” You nod your head vigorously. “As you can see, this is my wedding ring. I eloped not too long ago, hence why it’s not common knowledge.” 
Hopefully, he would buy your lie.
Alan stood there, his eyes flicking from you to the ring. Was he going to try and fight your claim? It seemed like he wanted to. Before you even gave him the chance to, you whipped towards the door being the counter to start mending.
You had only used the machine in the back a handful of times, but you were trying to become more familiar with it. Nodding, you quickly slipped into the back room. The hum of the old sewing machine greeted you like an old friend as you fired it up and began to mend the pieces in need of repair.
The rhythmic clacking of the needle against fabric filled the air as you lost yourself in the task at hand, the radio beside you playing soft old-timey melodies in the background. You continued this calm pace for a few hours, thankful to be away from Alan and the bustling state of the store.
Until a familiar static-laced voice broke through the music. 
“Hello, sir! My, what a hellish morning it is!” 
Your foot instantly moved off the pedal nestled under the table, the vibrations from the machine ceasing as it stilled. You strained your ears, is that who you thought it was?
“Oh, why hello there! How can I assist you today?” You heard the loud, boisterous voice of Alan as he welcomed the newcomer. Quickly, you left your seat, and peaked through the small crack in the doorway. 
Your breath quickened as your eyes landed on the tall, red demon. Alastor. How did he get in here? You didn’t hear the loud bell jingle at his entrance.
He sported his usual red coat, with his staff resting lazily in his grip as he stood before the demon. He had a large smile on his face, but his eyes spoke differently. He looked absolutely bored, disinterested in the man before him and his surroundings.
“I’m simply here to adjust some wear-and-tear on my suit,” he remarked, “as you can see, my sleeve has taken quite the nasty wound.”
He lifted up his arm, displaying a tiny piece of missing fabric from the cuff. It was a clean slice, as if someone had taken a knife and barely nicked it. Nasty wasn’t exactly how you’d describe it, more like itty bitty. 
“If I may..” Alan leaned in slightly, reaching out to inspect the tear. 
Alastor only pulled his arm back, rejecting the gesture with a subtle yet firm movement.
“I prefer to handle my own attire, thank you,” Alastor stated, his voice carrying a hint of disdain as he withdrew his sleeve from Alan’s reach. His smile widened further, as he stared at the demon. 
Your boss recoiled slightly, taken aback by Alastor’s abrupt refusal. “Oh, of course. My apologies,” he stammered, attempting to regain her composure, “but not to worry, sir! We’ve got fabrics that match and a seamstress to do the work. Let me go grab her for you, I'll be right back!”
You saw Alan turn in your direction, and you backed away from the door. Your heart raced as you realized you were going to actually be face to face with Alastor again. How would he react to your presence?
You shot into your seat, spinning around towards the machine. You stepped on the pedal, and the machine hummed to life once more. The door opened, and Alan poked his head in.
“Hey, there’s a customer who needs some assistance. Get out here.”
His head disappeared from view, leaving you alone once more. Exhaling a large breath to ease your nerves, you rose from your seat. Quickly, you walked over to the door and gripped the handle tightly. Another deep breath, and you pulled it open gingerly before taking a step outside. 
Your boss was back beside Alastor, who towered over the man. As you slowly entered the room, Alastor’s eyes moved to you. They lit up with interest, the smile seeming to shrink slightly. The crooked edges on his smile softened too, appearing more genuine as he regarded you.
“Ah, there you are, my dear! I was hoping to find you here.” Alastor called to you. He stepped right past Alan, completely ignoring his presence as he strode up to you. 
As he closed the distance, you became awfully aware of how fast your heart was beating inside your chest. That smell of lemons and licorice hit your nose as he stood before you, and it eased your nerves as you took a quick inhale of breath. 
He turned, allowing Alan to see both of your faces as he slowly reached out to take your hand. His thumb gently grazed against the gold band and it spun slightly. Your breath hitched at his touch.
“It is so nice to be able to visit my dear wife at her place of work,” Alastor started, his gaze shooting to Alan as he spoke, “and, to meet her lovely coworkers! A pleasure indeed.” 
Did he hear you telling Alan about your ring? He couldn’t have, but there seemed to be no other reason for him to bring up the whole marriage farce.
Alastor turned back to you, finger still softly caressing your hand as he turned his attention to his sleeve. 
“It appears I’ve gotten into another miscommunication with an overly confident adversary, similar to what I spoke to you about before. Would you care to assist me, my love?” 
Your eyes momentarily snapped to Alan, who had turned a paler shade as he watched Alastor’s actions. Now, he was finally seeing who your ‘husband’ was. It appeared to be quite a shocker for the demon.
Your gaze flicked back to Alastor, who stood next to you. That grin of his hiding whatever emotions he was feeling as he slowly released your grip, indicating for you to lead him away.
“Thank you for coming to visit, Alastor. I can stitch that up for you, you’ll just need to let me take it for a bit.” You smiled at him, doing your best to play the part with professionality. What, were you supposed to just start calling him pet names like ‘honey’ and ‘babe’?
“I think I'd prefer keeping it on.” Alastor said curtly, adjusting his collar.
He wanted to still be wearing it while you fixed it? That meant you couldn’t use the sewing machine, without risking injury to him. 
“… I suppose you can just follow me, then.” You replied, turning away as you beckoned him towards the back room. 
Alan didn’t follow the two of you, maybe Alastor’s comments threw him off. You hoped they did, you had enough of that guy for one day. 
You opened the dark gray door, pulling it wide so Alastor could follow behind. The back room was a cozy nook from the busy establishment, half of it transformed into a makeshift tailoring nook. A small step stool nestled among tall mirrors allowed a multi-angle look for customers getting a fitting.
Rolls of fabric lined orderly shelves nearby, accompanied by an array of sewing essentials. In the corner, a small table and chair housed the ancient sewing machine. You walked forward, before realizing 
“Oh, i’m sorry, I don’t have another chair. Let me go get one!” You pivoted to go find a spare, but Alastor only lifted his hand in a sweeping motion, brushing off your attempt.
“Not to worry, my dear! I’ve got it under control.”
He reached a hand forward, gripping the air like he was grabbing the top of the backrest of a chair. He tugged at the air, and a plume of green smoke wafted from his fingertips as he pulled a wooden chair from the smoke.
You stared, mesmerized as he dragged it next to your seat. He gingerly lowered himself, and plopped into the chair. That had to be powerful magic, for him to be able to produce such an object easily from thin air. Just like he did with the seasoning.
Quickly, you gathered the necessary essentials to begin fixing his garment. A couple of needles, some dark red thread, and multiple fabrics that you seemed the closest to his suit’s color. 
While you collected the items in a small bin, Alastor sat comfortably behind you. His nails clicking against his cane rhythmically as the music from the radio filled the room. 
He hummed softly along to the melody, obviously familiar with the tune playing. You had heard it before, a classic rendition of ‘Once In A While’ by Lennie Hayton. It was a softer tune, and an orchestral piece that allowed you to drift into a comfortable lull. 
As you carried the bin back to your seat, you nestled in beside him. There was a small distance between the two of you, your knees a few inches from grazing each other.
“May I?” You asked, holding out your hand to take his sleeve. You thought Alastor was going to react negatively to the gesture, like he did with Alan. Instead, he carefully reached out his arm, allowing you to pull his sleeve down to the surface of the table. 
You tried very hard not to touch his skin, as you adjusted the tear on his cuff to face you. Grabbing a few pieces of fabric, you began to hold them next to his sleeve, attempting to find the perfect match.
“So, what happened this time? Surely, not that snake demon from before.” You spoke, trying to spark conversation with your ‘husband’.
“Ha, I’m glad you do remember our last conversation! I was worried you'd forgotten as the days went by.” Alastor started, sinking deeper into his seat. He placed his cane against the table, 
‘Of course, I'd remember,’ you thought, ‘I can’t get you out of my head, no matter how I try.’
“I had found myself in a rather lively discussion with a particularly vexing imp. Tiny thing, but full of mischief and malice. Managed to get itself tangled in my grip during our little altercation.” He chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “I must say, it put up quite the fight for something no larger than a rat. But fear not, I emerged victorious, albeit with a few battle scars.” 
Alastor gestured towards the tear on his sleeve, his eyes sparkling with amusement. You smiled at his words, a small chuckle coming from your throat as you pulled another piece of fabric to his cuff.
Finally, you found the color that matched his attire, and you carefully began cutting a large piece from the roll. 
“I’m going to have to hand sew your tear, is that okay?”
“Of course, my dear! Just try not to poke me, hm?” 
You nodded with a smile, before plucking the small needle from the table. 
With nimble fingers, you carefully align the edges of the fabric, pinching them together to ensure a snug fit. Holding the needle firmly between your thumb and forefinger, you begin to weave the thread in and out with practiced precision, creating neat, tiny stitches along the seam.
“I have been meaning to ask, how did the seasoning I gave you fare?” Alastor spoke, his eyes filled with intrigue as he waited for your response.
“Oh! It was fantastic!” You beamed, your mouth watering slightly as you recalled the wonderful dinner from that night. “They made Crawfish Étouffée, and it was very delicious.” 
“Ah! Yes, that dish was a staple back in New Orleans, when I was alive. Folks would gather all over to get a taste of my mother’s own twist on the delicacy. She was quite the cook, and her skill never faltered.” 
As you listened, you realized his voice softened quite more when he spoke of his mother. That static in his tone seemed to disperse as he mentioned her, and you caught a glimpse of his true voice behind that radio overlay. 
“Well, now that I've gotten a glimpse into such an art. I really am interested in trying your Jambalaya.” You spoke genuinely, your fingers still delicately lacing the thread across his sleeve. 
“I am pleased to hear that,” Alastor hummed, “I’ll have to bring you a sample the next time I'm in the area.”
Silence filled the room, other than the music that wafted from the radio’s speaker. You continued to adjust and stitch together his sleeve, very close to finishing the mending work. 
Even though there were no words spoken between the two of you, the silence was not awkward at all. The two of you simply sat comfortably in each other's presence.
Behind you, the slight crack in the door allowed you to hear the loud voice of Alan, as he spoke to another customer. Alastor’s ears twitched slightly as he heard the demon speaking, his body tensing momentarily.
“Has that wretch been bothering you often?” Alastor spoke after a moment, the static in his voice growing thicker as he spoke of Alan. His claws slightly dug into the table, a faint trail embedded in the wood.
“Well, he doesn't treat me like that succubus did. But, he does not drop the subject of us becoming romantically involved. It gets.. uncomfortable, I guess.”
You sighed as the words slipped from your tongue, a frown forming on your lips as you thought of his many attempts to swoon you. Alastor’s head tilted at your words, that smile cracked even wider as you continued to carefully slip the needle through the fabric. 
“Would you like me to ĐɆVØɄⱤ Ⱨł₴ ₴ØɄⱠ?” 
You jerked your head up at his words, surprise etched on your face as you turned to him. His voice had changed, the last bit of his sentence distorting into pure static, and you almost didn’t catch his words.
The room crackled with energy, causing your hair to practically stand on end. It was chilling, and you shivered subconsciously at the feeling. The room seemed to darken as Alastor stared at you, his pupils shrinking to resemble radio dials.
“Excuse me?” You questioned, your tone never faltering from its original octane. Which surprised you, since this powerful demon was looking at you with such murderous intent.
‘It’s not you he wants to murder.’ the voice in your head whispered. Which made your heart flutter, was Alastor wanting to kill for you? That was.. unconventionally sweet. 
Is that what he did to the succubus the other night when you weren’t looking? 
“If the little oaf can’t keep his words to himself, then there is no place for him to continue to sour your mood.” Alastor explained, his eyes taking their original form slowly as he spoke, and the distortion in his tone subsided.
The shadow festering around you slowly shrank away from your seat, illuminating the room once more. That cold feeling that gripped at your shoulders vanished. 
It wasn’t necessarily a bad feeling that left you, even if it smelled of darkness and destruction. It felt almost.. comforting to you. Like the shadow was pulling you into a protective hug, the chill cooling your heated skin into a soothing embrace. 
You only shook your head, “He doesn’t need to die for something like that. And, he’s my boss. Without him, the store wouldn’t run as well.”
Alastor only huffed, leaning back into his seat. His claws left the table, and were instead enclosed into a fist, as he rested his chin atop of it. 
“At least the poor bloke ceased in his courting when he realized another had already taken that place.” He shrugged, his eyes glancing down to the gold ring on your hand.
You halted, the needle hanging in the air mid-stitch. How did he know about you and Alan’s conversation? More importantly, what were his feelings about you still wearing the piece of jewelry? 
“Oh, right. Yes, I’m sorry for still wearing it, I know it was just for that moment and it was stupid for me to think I could keep it-”
“Nonsense! Do not fret, my dear.” Alastor interjected, brushing off your worry. “Think of it as a small gift to rectify the situation you were forced into that night.” 
A gift? He wanted you to keep the ring? 
“You could even go as far as to perceive it as a good luck charm, ha-ha. Trouble seems to never escape you, and if this ring can even give you an ounce of protection, why not keep it on to ensure nothing like that night happens again?”
You smiled at him, your eyebrows raised as you listened to his words. A tiny ring, protecting you? You doubted it.
“Well, thank you, Alastor. It is really nice to know someone cares in that way.” 
Alastor hummed softly in response, his toothy grin softening into a lipped smile as he turned his attention back to the music playing softly. 
The thread tightened snuggly between the two fabrics as you finished the final stitch, your other hand reaching to the small scissors next to you. Carefully, you snipped the thread as close to the sleeve as possible, and you leaned back to take a look at your work.
It looked perfect, like the garment had never taken a hit in the first place. Alastor pulled his arm back slightly, turning it over to inspect it thoughtfully.
“I must say, you have such talent with a needle and thread! When you told me you worked as a door girl, I never expected knowledge of tailoring to be in your resume as well!” 
Your cheeks heated as his compliment, and you began to slowly stand from the seat. For a moment, you wished there was something else wrong with his coat that you could fit. If only to keep him here a little longer.
What a selfish thought. You silently reprimanded yourself for such thinking, Alastor had no doubt better things to do than sit here and chit chat with a powerless nobody like you.
Alastor also left his chair, and he adjusted his collar. He gripped his cane, straightening his posture as he turned to you. 
“It seems every time we’re together, our conversations are never dull. Thank you for assisting me, I’d love to continue our talks but it appears I have other business to attend to.” 
“Back at the hotel?” You asked, as you walked with him to the doorway.
Alastor stopped in his tracks, his eyes widened slightly at your words. He tilted his head at you. “Forgive me, my dear, but I do not remember telling you such a thing. Where did you hear that from?”
Fuck. He never had told you about his place of work, and you writhed slightly under his stare as you tried to come up with an explanation.
“Oh, it’s just an imp had come in this morning, buying a tuxedo for his daughter. He said she ran the Hazbin Hotel. He also said you worked at the hotel too.”
‘And he doesn’t seem to like you.’ you added silently.
Alastor’s grip around his cane tightened, and his smile widened as he thought for a moment. A small chuckle escaped his lips, it sounded dark.
“Are you sure it was an imp, my dear?” He asked slowly.
You nodded, recalling the conversation. “Yes, short with white hair and red skin. Sunglasses too, weirdly. He was quite nice, actually. He gave me some money for helping him, nobody has ever done that for me.” 
“Ha! What a kind soul he must be. Did he say anything else to you, by chance?”
You shook your head, “no, not really.”
“A surprise, really. That imp has a knack for using his charm to bend others to his whim. I'm sure that gesture of his was nothing more than to sweep you off your feet for his antics. I’d keep your distance from demons like him, if I were you.”
Was Alastor.. jealous? He couldn't be. But, it seemed like the feelings between the two were mutual with the way he spoke with disdain. 
The imp seemed like he had someone he cared deeply for, anyway. You were sure his gesture wasn’t anything more than kindness. Although, you didn’t think Alastor would believe you if you told him.
“But, as you previously mentioned, yes,” Alastor changed the conversation, for his sake it seemed, “I do reside at the hotel in exchange for my services. Redeeming sinners is no easy feat, it needs special hands to mold such a dream into reality.”
“Well, I'm sure you’re doing a great job.” You spoke, doing your best to voice your support for him.
Alastor smiled at you, before nodding in agreement. He pulled the door open, and stepped through the doorway. You followed him, stopping at the threshold as he turned back to you. 
He lowered himself slightly, a small curtsy in your direction. As he lifted himself, he leaned closer to you.
“Until we meet again, my wife.” He spoke loudly, most likely for the others in the vicinity to hear. His voice was like honey to your ears as that faint hiss of static dispersed from his tone when his lips settled on wife.
You really did like his voice, and hopefully, you’d hear what it really sounded like more often. His eyes settled on you for a moment longer, as if he wanted to say more. He didn’t, instead turning towards the register across the room.
Leaning against the doorway, you watched Alastor stroll to the cash register. Alan stood behind the counter, and he seemed to shrink slightly under the taller demon’s gaze.
The sharp edges of Alastor’s smile returned as he watched the demon quickly ready the digital display for check-out. His pupils dilating slightly, eyes narrowed as he waited.
You had watched him leave the store, watched him stroll down the street without a glance at anyone else. That mild boredom taking over his features, like it had when he had first arrived.
For the rest of your shift, as you sewed buttons back into place or trimmed stray threads that stuck out of garments, your thoughts continued to stray to events earlier in the day. To that imp, to the ring on your finger, to Alastor and those fluffy little ears on his head.
You were still deep in thought when you clocked out, your feet carrying you out the door as your path led you to the bus stop a few blocks down.
It was a small blue sign, with the symbol of a bus engraved into it. There was no one around, the empty streets quiet as you plopped onto the bench to wait.
Your hands reached into your bag, pulling out your phone from its pocket. You scrolled through your notifications, before clicking on a message from one of your friends.
You were so deep into the screen in front of you, that you didn’t hear the quiet footsteps approach the bench. You didn’t see the knife pointed directly at your face, or the masked man who’s gaze traveled down your form. 
“Hey, you!” A voice coated with malice addressed you.
Your head shot up, and you reeled back at the large knife right in front of your nose. Your heartbeat quickened as you scrambled off the bench, the man only keeping pace with you as you backed away.
“You seem like a nice young lady, and I’d hate to ruin that pretty face of yours. Just give me everything you’ve got, and we can go our separate ways.” 
“I don’t really have anything for you to take!” You said breathlessly, your hands shaking as you pulled miniscule items from your bag. He only ripped the entire thing from your grip, throwing it behind him. 
“What about money? Hand everything over, sweet cheeks.”
You grimaced, before pulling the stack of bills the imp had given you from your person. He ripped them from your grip, before stuffing the money down his pocket.
“That’s all I have, I promise! Please let me go.” You begged, your back hitting the wall of an abandoned building behind you.
You prayed for someone to come to your rescue. Alastor graced your mind, that he’d swoop in to save you once more to save you. He was right, trouble never seemed to leave you.
This time, you’d let him tear this guy apart.
“What about jewelry, huh? I see that ring on your finger, it must cost quite a pretty penny.” The thug sleazed.
Instinctively, you brought your hand to your chest, trying to shield the band from his stare. The demon only closed the distance between the two of you, his mask grazing against your chin as he abruptly yanked you forward.
“Don't fight me, you bitch! Just give it to me, don’t make this difficult.”
His rough hand encircled around your wrist. It was harsh against your skin, and you winced in pain.
“Let go of me! I’ve already given you enough, just leave me alone!” You screamed, hoping someone would come to your aid.
He raked his hand down your finger, the ring slowly moving down your digit as he tried to dislodge it.
It was a snug fit against your skin, and it took him a few moments for him to begin pulling it off your finger. Tears pricked at your eyes as adrenaline pumped through your veins, but you dared not to move with the knife slightly pressing into your side.
Another tug, and the ring grazed over your nail as it was pulled harshly. It wasn’t able to make it past before something strange happened. 
The ring ignited in a green flame, and the thug’s hand shot away as he yelled in pain. It licked at the tip of your finger, but you felt no heat from its touch. 
You barely had time to blink, or scream before the ring exploded. It burst into a large cloud of green smoke that engulfed your figure. Shielding you from your surroundings. Energy crackled in the air, paired with a chill that made your breath visible as you gasped.
It felt like someone had reached out and gripped at the collar of your top, and you felt a much gentler tug and you were pulled backwards.
The smoke seemed to vanish, and you were drenched into darkness. You felt your feet lift off the ground, as if you were floating.
The problem, you had no idea where you were. Your heart felt like it was going to burst as you squeezed your eyes shut. It felt like hours went by, but in truth, it was only a matter of a few seconds that darkness surrounded you.
Just as quickly as it started, it ended, and your closed eyelids were hit with a ray of light. There were voices surrounding you as your feet touched on solid ground, the floor softer this time, like carpet.
The chatter stopped abruptly as you settled in place, and for a moment you felt like curling into a ball and hiding from whatever scene you had been thrusted into.
“Ah, there you are!” A familiar voice exclaimed next to you, static dripping from their words. “I was wondering how long it would be until you showed up!” 
Wait a second, was that Alastor speaking? Was he responsible for whatever the hell just happened?
Your eyes slowly opened, revealing a large room covered in dark red wallpaper that cracked with age. Gold framed the edges, and lights mounted on the walls illuminated a few paintings that filled the empty space.
It looked like a lobby. Couches nestled in a corner around a small box tv. Next to that was a small bar, bottles of liquor stacked on shelves behind the counter. 
Your eyes trailed away, before they landed on a small group of demons in front of you. Your breath quickened in fear, as you quickly scanned over their figures. 
There was a woman in a red tuxedo, her mouth slightly parted in surprise. Long platinum-blonde hair tied into a neat ponytail as it traveled down her back. Beside her, a tall snake held a hand to his chest as he leaned back slightly, as if he was more afraid of you than you were of him. 
There were a few others too, but your mind was racing so fast you weren’t able to get a settle on their frames before you eyes were bouncing around for an exit.
It wasn’t until you felt someone’s arm snake around your elbow did you whip your head to the side, Alastor’s large smile greeting you as he laced his arm with yours in comfort, no doubt noticing the way your knees were about to buckle. 
“Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, my dear!” He exclaimed, as if your arrival was expected and totally-not-strange whatsoever. His eyes were soft, doing his best to calm you with his familiar presence. You opened your mouth to speak, even though you weren’t sure exactly what to say.
“Who the fuck is that?” The fuzzy, pink spider demon piped up from the shocked onlookers. A pair of hands on his hips as he regarded you with confusion. 
Your lips upturned into a faint smile, and you lifted your hand for a half-hearted wave.
“Um, hi..?” 
Tumblr media
I hope you enjoyed part 2! Sorry for that cliff hanger 😭 i hate doing that but had to end it somewhere haha
and.. hold up yall…
Tumblr media
for real?! i did not expect this my first month on this app, nor at all really 😍 what started as “just this one luci one-shot..” became so much more!
Thank you all for the support and love you’ve given me, lowkey itching to buy a computer just for writing (yes, all my fics have been written with sore thumbs haha)
HUGE thanks to @spoiled-slutt for being my beta reader and helping me brainstorm ideas for this part! They’ve been an amazing help, and you should definitely check out their works if they interest you! <3
have a great day, my swans! 🦢
taglist:
@the-tortured-poet @anonymousewrites @coleisyn @froggybich @chewbrry @watchinthestarz @mechanicalmari @luxmessorem @plapperlapapp @wonderlife974 @kottenox @cherry-cola-100 @the-shark-named-sharon @rae-pottah @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @corpsebridenightamare @pweewee @nijiru @ourfinalisation @anuttellaa @nonetheartist @bunnypeew @cryptidghostgirl @hxzbinwrites
2K notes · View notes
luveline · 10 months
Note
Ok what about a lil fic of Remus being snappy with his gf leading up to the full moon? Just some angst and then fluffy ending with them reconciling
thank u for ur request! —remus says something he shouldn't before the full moon, and later campaigns for your forgiveness with affection and a confession. fem!reader, 1.2k
Remus lays on the couch with his forearm pressed to his eyes. It's the day before the full moon, and he feels the hours approaching like a death sentence every time. You hover in the doorway, watching, unsure of how to help. He gets the same every month (or rather, every cycle). 
Irritable. So anxious he can't breathe properly, let alone enter conversation. 
You hate seeing him like this. Your Remus, who spends every moment you're together trying to make sure you're as happy as you can be. 
Cautious, you round the sofa to crouch by his face. You hold out your hand, trailing a gentle fingertip down the length of his arm, tripping over pinched skin ridged by scars. He's beautiful no matter what, but he gets insecure about how he looks every full moon. You know he thinks he's a monster. You've no way to prove it to him beyond this. 
"Hey, handsome," you say softly. "I know you're not hungry, but I made dinner anyway if you feel up to it. And I know," —you drop your voice to a near whisper— "I know you're not in the mood, but I'm here. I can sit here and stroke your hair in silence all night if that's what you want, my love. I'll do whatever you want." 
"Then leave me alone," he says. 
Half snap, half firm defeat. You wince at the ire in his voice. It won't ever be nice to have someone you love speak to you like you're getting on their nerves, but you know what it is he's facing. You know this is hard for him to cope with. You can forgive him for everything if he makes it through this in one piece. 
"Okay. I'm sorry. I love you, Remus." 
He turns his head toward the sofa cushions. 
You leave the room with a heavy heart. In the kitchen, you try to eat, but every mouthful makes you feel sick, your eyes welling with tears as you chew. You're hurt, he's hurting, and this really, really sucks. 
The smell of dinner starts to amplify the nausea. You grab your plate and carry it to the back door, scraping your leftovers straight into the rubbish. You wash your plate and leave it to drip dry on the draining board, your eyes burning. You sniff, wiping your nose in your sleeve. 
You're hoping desperately that Remus will come around before bed, but he stays where he is. Thinking he's finally found sleep and wanting to leave him to that blissful reprieve, you creep through the living room and down the hallway into the bedroom. Tears fall as you change into your pyjamas. You're so tired that you barely have time to cry yourself to sleep. 
You're not sure how much longer it is when you wake. A familiar hand cups your cheek. 
From the warmth of your skin, he's had his hand there for a while. 
"I'm so sorry," Remus says. 
You don't know how he knows you're awake. He must have been watching you long enough to spot the difference. Honestly, you're not sure you want to see him yet, because you love him so much, and it breaks your heart to be at the end of his disdain even when you know the cause. 
You struggle to see him in the dark. 
"I should never have spoken to you like that." 
Your eyes close of their own accord, exhausted and sore from crying. "You didn't mean it." 
"I wish you'd shout at me," he murmurs, sliding his hand over your ear. His thumb draws along the shell of your ear. 
"I'm too tired," you mumble. 
Remus' head shifts closer to yours. Sharing the same pillow, his hand falls to your shoulder, his arm wrapping around you, a firm bicep pressed to your front. 
You let yourself lean into it. His breath warms the space between your brows. 
"It's no excuse, but I… I can't think of anything else but the pain, sometimes. I get so angry about it, because I'm–" He stops short, swallowing audibly in the otherwise silent room. "I'm scared. But I would be a hundred times more terrified if I didn't have you, knowing you're there for me, unflinchingly, before and after it happens, it helps me get through it. It's not fair that you give me so much peace and I just… 
"I'm sorry, dove. I don't mean to take advantage of your… heart." He says heart like he's been winded. He hadn't sounded finished, but everything stops at that word. 
You force your eyes open. He's looking at you with an unspeakable amount of love, kind to keel you over if you were standing. His eyes are pitch black in the lack of light, irises melded with pupils, giving him an even sorrier gaze. You raise a sluggish hand to his where it rests behind your back and pull it back to your face. You miss his touch. 
"I love you," you say. 
"I know," he says, his jaw tensing in an attempt to stage off tears. "I love you, too." You watch them collect in the corners of his eyes, following one as it slides to rest in the dip of his nose bridge while he lies on his side like this. 
"So don't be sorry." 
"But I am sorry. I can't fathom why I think it's okay to treat you that way." 
"You don't think at all, Remus. I'm not being flippant, but you're busy worrying about the worst of it." You shake your head gently. His hand twitches against your cheek. "I don't blame you." 
"I know," he utters. 
You stare up at him as he sits enough to tower over you. His smile is sorry, in love and ashamed. You want to tell him how it doesn't matter, that it's okay, but you're thinking maybe you need him to say it first. 
"I'm sorry." 
"Remus, you only told me to leave you alone." 
"I need you to know that any other time, you're all that I want. You're everything. I couldn't ask for more than you. Please don't think I'm cruel," he pleads in a whisper. 
You lift your chin incrementally. "I'd never think that." 
His apology kiss is coddling. Like he's worried he'll hurt you, like he's holding back, he kisses you like you can't handle more than a chaste press of the lips. 
"I love you," he says into it. 
You lift your head to kiss him harder. You love him, and you won't break. You can be exactly as strong as he needs you to be, so long as love waits at the end of the night. 
"I love you." A huff of a laugh escapes him. "Does this mean I'm forgiven?" Caution has his joke falling flat.
You nuzzle your cheek against his, knowing you'd forgiven him just as soon as he'd snapped. "If you let me stroke your hair. Did you eat your dinner?" 
"I'll eat it tomorrow," he says. A white lie, you both know, but he slides down further under the sheets so you can reach his head. 
You card your fingers through his hair until you've both fallen asleep. 
3K notes · View notes