#sinclair x reader

🫧he really doesn't get jealous that often. but when it happens, he mostly just feels undeserving of your love and attention, and he tends to get into his own head about it. the whole thing feels surreal to him, that you chose him. sinclair's jealousy is born from feelings of inferiority; he worries that he isn't good enough, isn't strong enough. that you're going to find someone better, who can offer you safety and stability that he worries he can't. he also fears abandonment, that inevitable ache he expects when you realize how many better options there are out there. compares himself to others a lot, which really doesn't help the situation at all.

🫧at least self aware enough to know that this is a him problem. you likely haven't even done anything wrong, so he isn't going to take it out on you directly, and the last thing he wants is to drag your mood down with his. so he will sulk and get really quiet, but he'll also be torn between distancing himself and staring after you like a sad puppy left in the rain. now the same can't be said for the menacing glares he shoots at the offending party; he may even get short with them, bordering on hostile. he'll be embarrassed about it later, but in the moment he thinks he's doing a really good job at hiding his feelings

🫧you'll notice that he's a lot more aggressive in the next battle. not quite unhinged, not trying to get himself killed or anything, but it’s obvious that he has something going on from how brutal he's being. emil that is not the intended way to fight with a halberd-

🫧if you do try to make him jealous on purpose, he hates it. it feels awful. it's not fun or exciting to him, and it will take a serious toll on your relationship. he doesn’t like mind games like that, nor does he like his vulnerabilities that he trusts you with being used against him

🫧he mostly just needs reassurance, even if its only in the form of being beside him. resting your head on his shoulder, reaching for his hand in a crowded room so he can't wander away, wrapping an arm around him as you talk to another person. not typically a huge PDA fan, but when he's jealous like this, he loves the kisses on the cheek that you give him in front of the others no matter how much he protests any other time

🫧another quick way to snap him out of it is to tease him, pointing out his sour expression, less than stellar battle strategies, and moping. he'll get all red in the face, stuttering apologies and explanations until he eventually confides in you about how he's feeling. it isn't hard to comfort him on the subject, really. he trusts you and tries his hardest to take your word for it (bonus: i can see him taking a little bit of teasing from rodya on the subject, but anyone else besides you is just getting mean mugged)

🫧he's very grateful for your patience. assure him that you know who you chose to be with, that you don't feel like you're missing out on anything with everyone else. he's working on building up his confidence, to where this isn't something he feels he has to worry about anymore, but it'll take time

The sounds of battle ceased all too soon for the flock's taste. The blood smeared across the floor gave off that familiar, exhilarating metallic scent, the one that made pupils pin and feathers ruffle. Bodies of enemies and You branch alike littered the room, but one in particular stood in the middle of it all.

Blonde hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat and stained dark with soot. One visible golden eye, once smoldering red, flicked back and forth over the carnage. His jaw clenched and unclenched, hands twitching at his sides. He was still eager as he impatiently waited for the go-ahead to begin the journey to the next target. Anyone else would have thought he looked dissatisfied by the fight, and maybe he was. Maybe it still wasn’t enough to feel anything. But although you could still taste the adrenaline of a good round of combat yourself, one very endearing thing kept you from locating the Adept to receive orders.

Sinclair just looked so serious. He always did after these things. Even his giddiness came across as menacing the moment the flock struck, not a hint of a grin nor a twinkle in his eye despite how he raced into the dead center.

You couldn't help yourself; he was just so cute.

In one swift movement, you ducked your head under his hat, leaning forward to press a kiss against his cheek in the first spot you could find that wasn't caked with grime and blood. He practically clucked as his eyes went wide with shock.

“W-what are you doing?” Sinclair stammered right away. He reached up to touch his cheek, blinking owlishly at you.

Your response was to leave another kiss, this time on the tip of his nose. He sputtered, his clawed hands raised in the air. Far more uncertain than they were when he wielded his weapon, and you moved right past them to take his face into both of your hands before he could duck behind his scarf.

“Here? Are you serious–”

His eye was squeezed shut by the time you decided to call it quits, the blood streaked across his face disappearing in the redness of his cheeks. His shoulders were practically hunched up to his ears, and you found it a hilarious sight. Seeing Sinclair, the bloodthirsty Heishou that you'd watched mow down enemy after enemy with deadly precision, reduced to a shy and bashful little chick just from a few kisses?

In the midst of your attacks, the Adept called for the two of you to "hurry your asses up," and you finally relented. You squished his cheeks one last time, met that jasper eye when it blinked open again, and grinned. You left him with blood matting his feathers, and his heart racing with more than just adrenaline from a good fight to the death.

word count: 476

🫧it'll take a long time for sinclair to come around on the idea of pursuing anything beyond friendship. he's unsurprisingly not too eager to go rushing in headfirst, even once it becomes evident to him (via somebody beating him over the head with it) that his feelings are reciprocated. it's not that he doesn't trust you, because he does! but he's experienced what happens when you put too much trust in the wrong person, and those anxieties aren't something that he can neatly tuck away regardless of the situation. it's very likely that you're going to have to be the one to take the first step, unless someone else can give him a nudge in the right direction

🫧but this doesn't make his affections for you any less serious. for some time after he manages to put a name to it, he gets flustered easily, and then he manages to be even more embarrassed by the fact that he knows how obvious he's being. his face turns red, he stutters until he runs out of breath and opts to just sit quietly with his hands folded in his lap and his eyes locked onto the floor. he tends to stare at you so intently that it almost looks like he's glaring, but that's just his face. everyone can see straight through him, and that only makes it worse because he knows that you can too.

🫧unfortunately (or fortunately, if you just like to see sinclair get flustered) you two are the perfect target for the other sinners' teasing. it wouldn't happen anywhere near as often as it does if sinclair didn't make it so entertaining, especially on long stretches where not much is going on. it doesn't manage to scare him off though, he's still happy to hold your hand when the two of you are out and about, especially if it seems to bring you any amount of comfort when facing The Horrors

🫧sinclair is pretty inexperienced in the realm of relationships. memories of his parents are his primary frame of reference for such things, although those are spotty at best these days. because of this, his shows of affection are hesitant and clumsy, but always well intentioned. he wants to hug you, but he's either too stiff or too floppy. he wants to hold your hand, but his palms are sweaty and the way he threads his fingers through yours is unsure. with some encouragement, he'll get better. he really does want to experience all of this with you, it's just a matter of learning how. at the start you can expect a lot of very hesitant, light kisses on the cheek that you barely get a chance to feel before he's running off with a "okaythanksbye!"

🫧when he does hold your hand, he not so subtly wants you to comment on/appreciate the calluses he has forming from how much work he's been doing to get stronger

🫧sinclair's gifts are thoughtful! he'll overthink it at first, seeking advice from the others despite knowing perfectly well what would be to your liking, but he'll start to get more comfortable with it after the first few times, before it turns into something sort of routine for him. it isn't anything extravagant, just flowers he knows you like, some sort of snack you said you'd been craving lately, or even just something that made him think of you when he saw it.

don't mistake his hesitance for reluctance; he's thrilled to be together, he wants nothing more than to show you that. but it's going to take some time for him to come out of his shell and fully accept the good and normalcy he's allowing back into his life. there may be times when despite his best efforts to be gentle, he holds on too tight, or lingers just long enough that it's noticeable. sinclair is a man that's lost a lot in a pretty short amount of time for someone so young, and he doesn't want to continue losing. with some unsteadiness, he intends to tightly embrace what the two of you have, and everything that comes with it

But the one exception to this are the days you get sick enough to be bedridden for a day or two. Then his worry will overtake him to the point that he’ll be spending most of his time by your side.

By the time you wake up and are healthy enough to leave your bed, you’ll find him asleep dead asleep; having exhausted himself fretting over you. His hair is a mess, his eyes have dark bags under them, he’ll maybe even have a bit of drool at the corner of his mouth as well.

And depending on what you said the night before, there’s a chance that he’ll be in bed with you; his arms wrapped securely around you and holding you close as he sleeps. He might be a bit embarrassed to find out about this when he wakes up, but he’ll deal with it far more gracefully than if the two of you cuddled under normal circumstances.

Something about you bring sick making it an exception or something.

He doesn’t quite look like Sinclair. Well, he does, but not your Sinclair. He’s definitely older. Like he went through a massive growth spurt, which somehow feels like the most unbelievable part of all this. His hair is longer too. You don’t notice at first since the front looks almost the same. His clothes stand out the most. They look worn and unfamiliar, like he was pulled straight from a battlefield.

When you first met, there was something menacing about him. It’s embarrassing to admit, but his presence genuinely frightened you. The way he stood felt heavy and unyielding. His gaze wasn’t even on you, yet you could still feel the weight of it, sharp and unsettling. Then his eyes found you, and everything shifted. It was instant. His expression softened, like a switch had been flipped. He looked almost as stunned as you felt. Seeing someone from your past is no less overwhelming than meeting someone from the future. That brief moment of gentleness was enough to tell you the truth. He really was your Sinclair after all.

You reach for him without thinking. It feels like the only right thing to do. He doesn’t move right away, as if holding himself back, like someone keeping a careful distance from a flame to avoid getting burned. You step closer anyway and wrap your arms around him. His clothes smell of smoke and things best left unnamed. It hurts to realize the future he comes from hasn’t been kind to him. For a moment, his hands hover awkwardly, unsure of where to go. Then one settles on your head, gently patting it. You used to be the one always messing up his hair...

You slowly look up, finally meeting his face properly. Your eyes trace every detail, as if trying to commit them all to memory. A thin scar cuts across his left cheek. You lift your hands and gently cradle his face, your thumb brushing over the mark with care. He looks confused for a moment, then a small smile tugs at his lips. His gloved hands come up to hold yours in place, a quiet sign that he’s finally letting himself give in. He leans into your touch and presses a soft kiss to your palm, never breaking eye contact. Heat rushes to your face. You can’t help but wonder if the age gap makes him feel bolder, or if he’s truly changed this much.

You can’t help but wonder what kind of relationship you’ll have in the future. Maybe the moment he appeared here today changed everything, and you’ll never see him again. Even if he vanishes when he returns, even if his only purpose was to show up here just this once, you’re glad you could be a place of comfort for him at the end. And if nothing has changed at all, you hope that you’re still there for him when the time comes.