#we’re focusing on him being happy right now

[pdriesta]

CHAPTER SEVEN

“i want something that i know is real”

pairings — judexblack!girl

genres — fluff, slow burn, workplace romance (she’s a pt)

warnings — sexual themes (minors dni)

word count — 6.3k

summary — y/n, a rising physiotherapist, has just been promoted to work with real madrid's men's team. after a difficult breakup, she's determined to keep things professional. but when jude bellingham, the club's charming new star, sets his sights on her, maintaining boundaries becomes harder than ever. can she resist the pull, or will she risk everything for a love she swore she’d never fall for again?

an — the last chapter 🥲 i can’t even put into words how much i appreciate the love and support even after deleting my blog seeing the same accounts comment and like these chapters has never failed to make me happy! i am beyond grateful. if you’re still interested this couple, i’ll be releasing blurb series. the first one is posted and requests are open <3

masterlist

the room was a blur of activity, voices overlapping as the medical team worked efficiently around jude. he sat there, trying to focus on the steady stream of questions and instructions being thrown his way, but his mind kept drifting back to the moment it all went wrong.

the match had been intense, emotions running high, and jude had let his temper get the best of him. he remembered the argument with the opposing player, the heated words exchanged, the rush of adrenaline that followed. it was all so vivid in his mind—how he’d felt the anger simmering beneath his skin, how he’d wanted to prove himself in that split second, to win the ball, to show he wasn’t one to back down.

but then it happened. they both went up for the header, and time seemed to stretch out in front of him. the roar of the crowd faded into the background as he focused on the ball, his body moving instinctively. he remembered the sensation of losing his balance, the way the ground seemed to rise up to meet him, the sickening thud as his head hit the turf. the world tilted, the lights above blurring into a dizzying swirl, and for a moment, everything went black.

now, back in the medical room, jude felt the residual throbbing in his head, a dull ache that pulsed with every beat of his heart. his family was there—his mom, denise, hovering close by with worry etched into her features; his dad, mark, standing stoically but with an unmistakable tension in his posture; and his younger brother, jobe, sitting quietly in the corner, his wide eyes filled with concern.

y/n was there too, but she kept her distance, her eyes avoiding his. jude could tell she was upset—really upset—by the way she kept herself apart from the others, by the tightness in her expression that she couldn’t quite hide. she only stepped forward when one of the other medics called for her, her movements precise and professional, but there was an underlying tension in everything she did.

jude couldn’t shake the feeling that she was mad at him, though he wasn’t entirely sure why. maybe it was because he’d been reckless, because he’d let his emotions get the better of him on the pitch. maybe it was because she’d seen the whole thing happen, the way he went down, the way he didn’t get back up right away. the thought of her worrying, of her being scared for him, gnawed at him.

they ran through the tests—checking his reflexes, his coordination, asking him questions to assess his memory and cognition. jude answered as best he could, but his focus kept drifting back to y/n. he hated that she was so distant, that she wouldn’t even look at him. it hurt more than the injury itself.

“he’s going to be okay, right?” denise asked one of the medics, her voice trembling slightly.

“we’re running all the necessary tests, mrs. bellingham,” the medic replied calmly, “but so far, everything looks stable. we’ll have a better idea once we review the scans.”

jude’s parents exchanged a worried glance, but denise nodded, trying to stay strong. jobe looked over at jude, his young face pale with concern.

“you’ll be fine, jude,” jobe said softly, trying to sound confident, though his voice wavered just a bit.

jude managed a small smile, wanting to reassure his brother, but the heaviness in his chest remained. when the tests were finally over, his mom asked if he needed help getting home, and mark added, “we can get you settled in, jude. don’t worry about anything.”

“actually,” denise said, glancing over at y/n, “maybe y/n could take you home? you two spend a lot of time together, and she knows how to take care of you.”

the room seemed to freeze at that suggestion, the tension thickening. jude saw the way y/n stiffened at his mom’s words, how she hesitated before nodding, still refusing to meet his eyes.

“yeah… sure. i’ll take him home,” y/n said quietly, her voice tinged with something jude couldn’t quite place.

jude watched as y/n carefully checked his vitals, her fingers deftly adjusting the blood pressure cuff around his arm. even in her quiet, focused state, she was breathtaking. he couldn’t help but study her—how the light caught in her braids, the way her brows furrowed in concentration, and how every now and then, her lips would press into a thin line, as if she was holding something back. he knew she was upset with him, and it pained him more than the throbbing in his head.

he thought back to earlier, to how her distance had been like a wall between them, and how badly he wanted to break through it. it wasn’t just that she was pulling back; it was the way she did it, so carefully and deliberately, as if she was trying to protect herself from him. it killed him to think that his actions had made her feel this way, that he’d been the cause of her worry, of her pain. he’d been reckless, and now she was paying the price for it.

“baby,” he whispered, the word slipping out before he could stop it.

y/n froze at the sound of his voice, her hand stilling on his arm. for a moment, she didn’t move, and jude’s heart sank, fearing that he’d overstepped, that he’d made things worse. but then she looked up at him, her eyes filled with unshed tears, and jude felt his heart crack open.

“why are you crying?” he asked gently, reaching out to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped.

y/n shook her head, her breath hitching as she tried to find the right words. “i’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “i’m sorry for being so distant… it’s just—” she paused, taking a shaky breath, her eyes glistening as she continued, “the replay looked so bad, jude. i thought you had a brain injury, or worse… and i couldn’t stop thinking about what could’ve happened to you.”

jude’s heart ached at her words, at the raw emotion in her voice. he could see how much she was struggling, how much this had affected her, and it made him feel even worse for having been the cause of it. he shushed her gently, his hand moving to cradle her face, trying to offer her some comfort.

“hey, i’m okay,” he murmured, guiding her hand to his cheek so she could feel the warmth of him, the steady beat of his pulse beneath her fingers. “i’m right here, love. i’m okay.”

y/n let out a shaky breath, leaning into his touch as she continued, her voice barely above a whisper. “it’s just… i feel it every time you go out there, every time you risk your body like that. and today, seeing you go down like that… it scared me so much. i couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.”

her voice cracked, and jude could see how much she was holding back, how hard she was trying to keep it together. he wanted to pull her into his arms, to tell her everything was going to be okay, but he knew she needed to get this out, to say what was on her heart.

“it’s not just today, jude,” she went on, her voice trembling with emotion. “i think… i think i’ve always felt this way, even before i realized it. it’s like, every time i see you, my heart just… it does this thing where it skips a beat, and i can hardly breath. i try to ignore it, but i can’t.”

she paused, her breath hitching as she tried to gather her courage. jude held his breath, sensing that she was about to say something that would change everything between them.

“i love you,” she finally confessed, the words spilling out in a rush of emotion. “i’m in love with you, jude. i’ve probably always loved you… from the moment i laid eyes on you, you just… you never left me alone. no matter how much i tried to keep things professional, to keep my distance, you kept finding ways to break through. and i’m scared, jude. i’m so scared of what this means, of what could happen… but i can’t ignore it anymore. i love you, jude.”

the weight of her words hung in the air between them, heavy and full of meaning. jude felt his heart swell with emotion, a rush of warmth flooding through him at her confession. she loved him. she loved him. it was everything he’d ever wanted to hear, everything he’d been hoping for since the moment he first saw her.

he pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her and holding her tight, as if he could protect her from all the fears and uncertainties that were swirling around them. “i love you too,” he whispered into her hair, his voice thick with emotion. “i’ve loved you since that day you took care of me when i was sick… maybe even before that. you’re everything to me, y/n. everything.”

she clung to him, her breath hitching as she tried to process the magnitude of what they’d just shared. jude pressed his forehead to hers, his eyes closing as he breathed her in, the scent of her hair, the warmth of her skin. he’d been so scared of losing her, so afraid that he’d pushed her too far, but now… now everything felt right.

“i’m sorry i scared you,” he murmured, his voice low and sincere. “i never want to make you worry like that again. but i promise you, y/n, i’ll always do my best to come back to you. always.”

y/n nodded, her tears slipping down her cheeks as she held onto him, her heart finally at peace. “i know,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “i know, jude. and i’ll always be here for you. no matter what.”

they stayed like that for a long moment, wrapped up in each other, the world outside fading away until it was just the two of them in that room, together. for the first time in what felt like forever, everything was exactly as it should be. they had each other, and that was all that mattered.

the morning light streamed through the curtains of y/n’s bedroom, casting a warm glow on the space as jude slowly blinked awake. the memories of last night still lingered in the air between them—soft confessions of love that had left them both feeling light and warm, a tenderness that neither of them could shake off.

jude turned his head, eyes landing on y/n, who was already up and dressed, fussing with something at her bedside table. he couldn’t help but smile as he watched her, still wrapped up in her oversized t-shirt that he had insisted she wear—one of his favorites that practically swallowed her whole, the hem brushing the tops of her thighs. she was gorgeous, and he felt a twinge of guilt for making her worry so much yesterday, the fear in her eyes when he’d gotten hurt replaying in his mind.

“good morning, mi amor,” she said softly, noticing he was awake. the endearment slipped easily from her lips, a habit she hadn’t quite realized she’d picked up. she leaned over, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead, mindful of his injury. “how are you feeling?”

“better,” jude replied, his voice still thick with sleep. “could get used to waking up like this.”

y/n smiled, brushing a hand through his curls, and for a moment, they both just enjoyed the quiet intimacy of the morning.

but jude, ever the tease, wasn’t content with just that. he slid his hand to the back of her knee, tugging her gently closer. “you know, you could make me feel even better if you come back to bed…”

she rolled her eyes playfully, swatting his hand away. “nice try, bellingham. doctor’s orders—no physical activity that could aggravate your head, and that includes whatever you’re trying to start.”

jude groaned dramatically, flopping back against the pillows. “stop teasing me, baby. you can’t just look all sexy in my shirt and then not let me touch you.”

“i’m not teasing you,” y/n shot back, trying to hide her smile. “i’m just trying to keep you safe, you big baby. besides, i’m not the one who decided to start a fight on the pitch.”

“i wasn’t fighting,” jude mumbled, though he knew it was a weak defense. “just... heated discussions.”

“uh-huh,” she said, not buying it for a second. “well, heated discussions or not, you’re under my care now, so no funny business. doctor’s orders.”

jude pouted, but he knew she was right. still, it didn’t stop him from reaching out to grab her wrist, pulling her down onto the bed beside him. “just five more minutes, please?” he pleaded, his voice low and sweet, the kind of tone that made it hard for her to resist.

“five minutes,” y/n relented, settling beside him and letting him pull her close. she felt his warmth seep into her, and despite her better judgment, she let herself relax into him, her head resting on his chest. “but no funny business.”

“promise,” jude murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. he felt her sigh against him, her breath warm against his skin, and for a moment, everything felt right in the world.

as they lay there, the lightness of their confession still hanging between them, jude couldn’t help but think about how much he adored her, how every little thing she did seemed to make him fall even harder. the way she fussed over him, how she was constantly updating his family on his condition, how she’d made sure he was as comfortable as possible—he loved every bit of it.

he especially loved how close she was with his mum. every time y/n picked up her phone to send another update, jude couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips. knowing that his family trusted her, that his mum was reassured by her care, made his heart swell.

“i like that you and my mum are close,” jude admitted quietly, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on her arm. “makes me so happy.”

“she’s wonderful,” y/n said, tilting her head to look up at him. “and she cares about you so much. i’m just glad i can help ease her worries a bit.”

“she likes you, you know,” jude said, his voice teasing. “she keeps asking me when i’m gonna make an honest woman out of you.”

y/n laughed softly, but she couldn’t help the flutter in her chest at his words. “oh, is that so? and what did you tell her?”

“told her that you’re mine, and that’s all that matters,” he replied with a grin, pulling her closer. “but don’t worry, baby. i’ll work on the ‘honest woman’ part.”

she blushed, the implications of his words making her heart race. “you better, my mom and aunties have the wedding already planned. you can’t put a price on me, mr. bellingham. do you think you deserve me?”

“i know i do because you love me. no other man could take care of you like i can,” jude shot back, a playful glint in his eyes.

y/n rolled her eyes again, but she couldn’t hide her smile. “yeah, yeah. now, let me check your head before you get any more ideas.”

“always so bossy,” jude teased, though there was no bite to his words. “turns me on.”

y/n huffed a laugh, gently moving his face away with a light shove. “don’t even start,” she said, though she couldn’t help the fondness in her voice. “you’re supposed to be resting.”

“i am resting,” he protested, catching her hand in his. “just resting better now that you’re here.”

y/n shook her head, a soft smile playing on her lips. “you’re lucky you’re cute,” she muttered, leaning down to brush her lips against his once more. “now behave, or i’ll have to call your mum and tell her you’re being difficult.”

“you wouldn’t dare,” jude gasped, feigning shock.

“try me,” she shot back, smirking as she sat up to check his bandage. “now, sit still, or i’ll add ‘uncooperative patient’ to my report.”

jude couldn’t help but laugh, loving how easily they fell into this playful banter. the way she cared for him, how she balanced between strict and loving—it made him fall even more for her. and as they spent the day together, with her tending to his every need and him trying to push her buttons just enough to get a reaction, jude couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, he could get used to this—a life where they shared these little moments, where she was always there to look after him, to keep him in line, to love him the way she did.

and as the day drew on, with the light fading and the warmth of their shared confessions still lingering, jude found himself feeling more content than he ever had. because in her, he had found everything he’d ever wanted—someone who challenged him, cared for him, and loved him with a heart so pure and true that he couldn’t help but love her back just as fiercely.

and for jude, that was more than enough.

the next day, y/n’s place was a full house. jude had a bit of time off to recover, and it seemed like everyone wanted to pitch in, making sure he got better. the sun streamed through the windows, filling the space with warmth as laughter echoed off the walls. y/n’s mom had arrived early, her arms full of groceries and herbal remedies she swore would have jude back on his feet in no time.

denise, jude’s mom, wasn’t far behind, bringing homemade soup that she claimed was a family secret for healing. it didn’t take long for y/n’s mom and denise to strike up a conversation, the two women instantly connecting as they compared notes on how to best take care of their kids. y/n watched them from the kitchen, her heart swelling with affection at how easily they got along. it felt right, having both families together like this.

jude, seated on the couch, couldn’t help but smile as he observed the scene. the sight of y/n moving around her home, effortlessly playing hostess, made him feel a sense of contentment he hadn’t known he needed. he loved seeing her like this, surrounded by the people she loved, comfortable in her own space. and it didn’t hurt that she kept sneaking glances his way, her eyes soft with affection every time they met his.

“hey auntie,” jude called out with a grin when y/n’s mom entered the living room, holding up a jar of some mystery concoction. “what’s that you’ve got there?”

y/n’s mom shot him a mock-serious look, her lips twitching with amusement. “this, my child, is going to help you heal faster than anything those doctors can give you.”

jude chuckled, holding up his hands in surrender. “i believe you, auntie. if it means getting better faster, i’m all for it.”

she finally cracked a smile, her eyes warm as she looked at him. “that’s what i like to hear. now, i know denise here has her soup, but you’re going to take this too. we’ve got to get you back on that pitch, don’t we?”

“yes, ma’am,” jude replied, his tone respectful, but there was a playful glint in his eyes. “you’re the boss.”

“good boy,” she said, patting his shoulder affectionately before turning to y/n. “and you, my beautiful daughter, make sure he takes this every morning. no slacking, got it?”

y/n nodded, trying to suppress her grin. “yes, mama. i’ll make sure of it.”

meanwhile, jobe and y/n’s brother, mateo, were deep in conversation on the other side of the room. they’d hit it off immediately, both sharing a love for football and an endless supply of banter.

“so, how’s it feel to be the little brother of a superstar?” mateo teased, nudging jobe with his elbow.

jobe rolled his eyes, but there was a fond smile on his face. “it’s not too bad, i guess. but don’t tell jude i said that. his ego’s big enough as it is.”

mateo laughed, clapping jobe on the back. “don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me. besides, i’m pretty sure he knows it already.”

“oh, he definitely does,” jobe said, glancing over at his brother. “but you know what? he deserves it. he’s worked hard to get where he is.”

“true,” mateo agreed, his tone more serious now. “and from what i’ve seen, he’s a good guy too. you’re lucky to have him as a brother.”

jobe nodded, a small smile on his lips. “yeah, i am. and it’s nice to see him happy, you know? especially with y/n. she’s good for him.”

mateo glanced over at his sister, who was now standing with jude, both of them laughing at something y/n’s mom had said. “yeah, she is,” he said softly, his voice filled with affection. “they’re good for each other.”

as the day went on, the house was filled with warmth and laughter. y/n’s mom continued to fuss over jude, making sure he was comfortable and well-fed. denise joined in, the two women bonding over their shared love for their children and their determination to see jude back to full health.

“you know, jude,” y/n’s mom said at one point, sitting beside him on the couch, “you’re like a son to me now. you take care of my daughter, and we’ll take care of you.”

jude felt a lump form in his throat at her words, the sincerity in her tone hitting him right in the chest. “thank you, auntie,” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “that means a lot to me.”

she reached out, patting his cheek with a motherly affection that made him feel warm all over. “you’re a good boy, jude. we’re lucky to have you in our family.”

he smiled at that, his heart swelling with gratitude. “i’m the lucky one,” he murmured, his eyes meeting y/n’s across the room. she smiled back at him, her eyes filled with so much love it made his chest tighten.

“he really is,” denise chimed in, her voice light and full of pride. “and we’re so grateful to have y/n in his life. she’s been nothing but a blessing.”

“oh, don’t get me started on how much i love that girl,” y/n’s mom said with a laugh. “she’s always been the best of us.”

jude listened to them talk, his heart so full it felt like it might burst. he loved that their families were coming together like this, that the people he cared about most were finding comfort and companionship in each other. it made everything feel more real, more solid. like they were building something that would last.

as the afternoon wore on, the atmosphere remained light and filled with love. y/n’s mom kept him supplied with tea and herbal remedies, while denise made sure he had everything else he needed. jobe and mateo continued their banter, occasionally roping jude in when they needed a third opinion on whatever argument they were having.

the warm hum of conversation filled y/n's living room as their families mingled effortlessly, laughter spilling into the air. y/n sat nestled comfortably beside jude, his arm slung lazily over her shoulders as they watched their families interact like they’d known each other for years. her mom and denise were in the kitchen, bonding over cooking tips, while her brothers hovered around the snack table, throwing sly glances her way every now and then.

carlos, always the one to start trouble, leaned back with a mischievous smirk. “so jude, be honest,” he called out, loud enough to grab everyone’s attention. “are you tired of how bossy y/n is? how many times has she told you what to do?”

mateo snickered beside him, chiming in. “yeah, man, because we know y/n—she’s always telling us off.”

without missing a beat, jude grinned, a cheeky glint in his eye. “oh, trust me,” he said, voice dropping suggestively, “i don’t mind her bossing me around… especially when—”

y/n’s eyes widened in horror as she shot up from the couch, grabbing at jude’s arm. “don't you dare finish that sentence,” she groaned, trying to pull away, but he only laughed, dragging her back down to his side with ease, planting a soft kiss on her cheek, to which y/n met with a playful sideways glance.

“what? i was just being honest,” he teased, his voice low but full of amusement.

her brothers looked visibly disgusted. alejandro covered his face with his hand. "we don’t need to know what happens behind closed doors, man.”

mateo pointed at them both, face scrunched in mock disgust. “yeah, no one wants to hear about our baby sister doing… whatever that is.”

“seriously, pack it up,” carlos added, shaking his head. “this is a family gathering, not… whatever this is.”

y/n groaned, burying her face in her hands. “you’re all so dramatic.”

“seriously,” jude added with a smirk, pulling her closer. “it’s just because i’m the only one here who knows how to keep a woman like y/n happy.”

y/n's eyes widened as she pinched his side, hissing under her breath. “jude, shut up or i'll kill you!”

“what?” jude laughed, leaning down to kiss her cheek. “it’s the truth.”

“god, jude,” mateo groaned, dramatically covering his face. “that’s so corny. i think i just threw up in my mouth a little.”

alejandro waved a hand in front of his face. “someone send this boy back to england. we get it, you’re obsessed with my sister.”

jude only laughed harder, leaning into the joke. “what can i say? i’m a man in love.”

carlos pretended to gag. “pack it up, hermano. we don’t need to see all that.”

alejandro shook his head, feigning disgust. “we’ll be fine without my baby sister getting mounted by her boyfriend infront of us, thanks. but really, y/n—how did you manage to do this to a man. he's too soft. it's disgusting.”

“right?” mateo agreed. “this dude was supposed to be cool. now he’s all… whipped.”

jude just laughed, squeezing her affectionately. “hey, i was always a charmer. i won you guys over, didn’t i?”

“please. just stop speaking,” mateo groaned again, holding up his hands as if to ward off more cheesiness. “i beg of you.”

y/n rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the small smile on her lips. despite the relentless teasing, she knew how much her brothers cared about her, and seeing how easily jude fit into their dynamic made her heart swell.

their banter continued, the playful teasing bouncing back and forth, but through it all, y/n couldn’t help but feel a warmth settle in her chest. despite the jokes and teasing, it was clear how much her brothers cared—not just for her, but for jude too. and seeing their two families blend so seamlessly made her heart swell with happiness.

as the day drew to a close, y/n found herself sitting beside jude on the couch, his arm draped casually over her shoulders. she leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder as they watched jobe and mateo argue about something trivial. her mom and denise were in the kitchen, chatting and laughing like they’d known each other for years.

“if we get more days like this. i’ll die a happy man,” jude murmured, his voice soft in her ear.

“today was a good day,” y/n agreed, her voice just as quiet. “i’m glad everyone came together like this.”

“me too,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “i love you, y/n.”

she smiled, turning her head to look up at him. “i love you too, jude.”

and in that moment, with their families around them and the love they shared filling the room, everything felt perfect. they were building something real, something lasting. and y/n knew, without a doubt, that they were exactly where they were meant to be.

the next morning, jude woke up with an idea. it was simple, but it felt like the right thing to do. after the whirlwind of the past few days—the stolen kisses, the moments they shared, and y/n taking care of him when he was sick—he knew she deserved something special. something that would show her just how much she meant to him without overwhelming her with words.

his plan came together quickly, thanks to her brothers and jobe, who were more than willing to help out. while y/n was busy at the training facility, working her usual long hours, they got to work.

later that evening, when y/n came home, jude was already waiting for her at the door, his eyes twinkling with a mischievous smile.

“what’s with that look?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at him, already suspicious but curious.

he chuckled, reaching for her hand. “come with me. i’ve got a surprise for you.”

“another one? you’ve been full of surprises lately,” she teased, letting him gently pull her toward the car, her heart already racing a little with excitement. there was something about the way he held her hand, firm but soft, that made her feel like whatever he had planned would be unforgettable.

they drove through the city, the setting sun casting a soft golden glow over madrid’s streets. slowly, the cityscape gave way to quieter roads, the urban sprawl replaced by the peaceful, open stretch toward the coast. y/n glanced at jude, who was focused on the road but never let go of her hand. her mind was buzzing, trying to piece together what he was planning, but her heart told her to simply trust him. whatever it was, it was going to be special.

after a while, jude pulled up to a secluded beach just outside the city. the gentle sound of waves greeted them as they stepped out of the car, the salty air filling their lungs. the beach was completely empty except for one beautiful setup by the shore—a large canopy draped in soft white fabric, twinkling fairy lights strung across the top, with a low table set for two underneath. candles flickered gently in the evening breeze, and a cozy arrangement of blankets and cushions were scattered across the sand.

y/n’s jaw dropped. “jude… what is this?”

“i wanted to do something for you,” he said softly, stepping closer to her. “you’ve done so much for me. taking care of me, introducing me to your family… i wanted to make tonight about you. no distractions, just us. and your brothers—alejandro, matteo, and carlos and jobe helped me out.”

her heart melted at the thought. she looked around the beach, overwhelmed by how thoughtful it all was. “this is… this is incredible,” she whispered.

“you deserve it,” he said, his voice gentle as he took her hand again, leading her down toward the canopy. “come on, let’s eat.”

as they sat under the glow of the fairy lights, the waves lapping quietly at the shore, jude couldn’t stop watching her. the way her eyes sparkled as she took everything in, the soft smile that never left her lips—it made his heart swell. this was it. this was where he wanted to be, with her, always.

“you really went all out for this,” y/n murmured, brushing her hand across the soft blanket beneath her.

“well, i had some help,” jude chuckled. “alejandro’s got a real eye for this kind of thing. matteo and carlos handled the heavy lifting, and jobe… well, he mostly just took notes for when it’s his turn.”

y/n laughed, the sound like music to jude’s ears. “i can’t believe you got them to do all this without me noticing.”

jude shrugged, grinning. “they love you. and i may have told them it was payback for you taking care of me when i was sick.”

her smile widened, her heart swelling even more at the thought of her brothers working with jude to make this night so special for her. “they’re going to lord this over me forever, you know. especially alejandro.”

jude leaned back, a teasing glint in his eyes. “oh, he did say something about being ‘the best brother ever,’ but honestly? i think he’s just happy to see you happy.”

y/n’s chest tightened with emotion. her brothers and jude—these were the people who mattered most to her. to see them come together like this, to make her feel so loved, so cherished, it was overwhelming in the best way possible.

they ate, laughed, and talked for hours, their conversation flowing easily as the stars twinkled overhead. the world around them grew quieter, as if the night itself was making room for just the two of them. at one point, jude reached across the table, taking her hand, his thumb gently tracing circles over her knuckles.

“i’ve never had anything like this before,” he said quietly, his voice thoughtful.

y/n looked up from her plate, her brow furrowing slightly. “like what?”

“this,” jude said, gesturing vaguely at the beach setup, but meaning so much more. “family. love. everything coming together the way it has. it’s like… everything’s falling into place.”

y/n’s heart skipped a beat, her throat suddenly tight with emotion. she could see it in his eyes—the vulnerability, the sincerity behind his words. he wasn’t just talking about the night. he was talking about her, about them. about everything they’d been building together. and in that moment, it felt like the last piece of her heart finally clicked into place.

“me too,” she whispered, her voice catching slightly. “after everything with javier… i never thought i’d feel safe again. but with you, i do.”

jude’s hand tightened around hers, his eyes never leaving hers as he moved closer, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “you are safe with me,” he murmured against her temple. “always.”

y/n closed her eyes, sinking into the warmth of him, the steady beat of his heart against her cheek. this was it. this was everything. and when jude leaned down to press a soft kiss to her lips, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

when they pulled away, her eyes met his, and for a second, everything else fell away. it was just them, under the stars, with the sound of the ocean in the background.

“i love you,” she whispered, her voice soft but steady.

jude’s eyes lit up, his smile spreading slowly across his face. “i love you too, baby. you’re my everything.”

y/n’s heart swelled with a deep, unspoken gratitude. her brothers were her world, and jude, knowing how much they meant to her, had woven them into this moment effortlessly. it was more than she could ever ask for, more than she could ever express. how does he do it? how does he always make everything feel so right?

as a comfortable silence settled between them, the waves crashing softly against the shore, a playful thought popped into y/n’s mind. she glanced at jude, her lips curving into a mischievous smile as she stood, slowly stepping towards him with an unmistakable intent in her eyes.

jude’s brow quirked up, a smirk tugging at his lips. “and what do you think you’re doing?” he teased, already sensing where this was going.

y/n settled onto his lap, her legs on either side of his hips, hands lightly resting on his chest. she leaned in, her lips just inches from his. “we’re alone,” she whispered coyly, her breath warm against his skin. “and as your team doctor... i think you’re officially cleared for physical activity.”

jude's eyes darkened with playful intent, his hands instinctively finding her hips, thumbs grazing her skin in soft, deliberate circles. “yeah? what’d you have in mind?” his voice was low, dripping with that teasing challenge that always made her heart race.

without another word, she closed the distance between them, her lips capturing his in a slow, deep kiss that left no room for questions. her fingers trailed up to cup his jaw, pulling him closer as if the entire world had fallen away, leaving just the two of them beneath the starlit sky.

jude responded immediately, his hands tightening their grip, pulling her impossibly closer until there was nothing between them but the warmth of their bodies and the shared rhythm of their heartbeats. time felt like it stood still, the only thing that mattered was the way she made him feel—like he was exactly where he was supposed to be.

when they finally broke apart, breathless and flushed, jude's lips quirked into a crooked grin. “you'll have to clear me like that everytime, baby,” he teased, his voice a husky rumble that sent a shiver down her spine.

y/n bit her lip, her gaze still playful as her fingers traced the line of his jaw. “well, i take my job very seriously.”

he let out a soft laugh, his hand moving up to gently tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “you make me crazy, you know that?” his tone was teasing, but there was a depth behind it, a weight to the words that made her heart squeeze with affection.

she stared into his eyes, her heart swelling with a sudden rush of emotion she couldn’t hold back any longer. “i love you, jude,” she whispered softly, her voice barely above a breath but carrying all the weight of her feelings.

his teasing smile softened into something tender as he leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “i love you too, y/n,” he whispered back, his arms wrapping tighter around her as though he never wanted to let her go. “more than anything.”

they sat there, wrapped up in each other, the sound of the ocean serenading their quiet moment, and for y/n, there was no doubt in her mind—this, right here, was exactly where she was meant to be.

© PDRIESTA 2024

taglist — @sinners-98-world @stephiii29 @kcharlyy @landosgirlxoxo @judesthighveins @ilovelifes-world @cinderellawithashoe @imnyt @miniemonie2001 @lunamelona @treble-snot

[fruitbythefoot7]

HIS SMILE IS SO AGISBAJANMAMA look at this lil guy 🥹🥹

[puppym3]

'*•.¸♡ off-road ride ♡¸.•*'

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

lee minho x fem!reader

a result of the poll win! (car sex w minho)

summary: you and minho are on your way to meet up with your friends, but get distracted along the way.

wc: 3k

warnings: MDNI! 18+, established relationship, dom!minho, brat!reader, a lot of teasing, fingering (f. rec), rough sex, spanking, safeword mentioned (not used), piv, unprotected sex, creampie, riding, choking, overstim, begging, (lmk if i missed any)

a/n: i've been realizing that the poll has been going in age order so far, so i might just release all of the fics in age order to keep the pattern going. also i loved writing this, hopefully next time i can write a fluffier minho smut!!

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

The winding roads blurred past as Minho deftly steered the car, the engine's purr adding a soundtrack to your animated voice. Your friend's laughter was bubbling over and filling the car with cheerful energy as you spoke on the phone.

“Mmm, no, we should totally do that next weekend,” you were saying, still chuckling at a joke your friend had made. “I just think we should invite the whole group.”

Lee Know’s jaw tightened. He knew you had been out and about with your friends lately, and he didn’t want to be jealous, but... he was. It felt like you were paying more attention to everyone else lately than to him.

“We’re so close now,” you said, leaning over to Minho to point at the map. You had meticulously planned the route and confidently guided him whenever needed. “Maybe about fifteen minutes away, I'd say.”

“Great,” Minho replied, his voice low and warm, though his eyes betrayed a hint of irritation as he kept glancing at you.

“Hey, hold on, my phone’s going crazy.” You pulled the phone away from your ear, glancing down at the screen. Your eyes went wide, and you started giggling, turning back to look at Minho with a playful smile.

“What?” he asked, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Oh, it’s just my friend being ridiculous.”

“Mm. I can’t leave them hanging, then, right?”

“I guess not.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m still here. We’re so close now.”

“Are you?” your friend purred from the other end, causing you to laugh again.

“Okay, not that close.” You glanced over at Minho, smiling, before focusing on the road.

“Are you sure? Because I was thinking maybe you’d like to come over after the party…”

“Hmmm, and why is that?” You were grinning now, unable to help yourself.

“Well, there’s this guy that’s been flirting with me, and I don’t really like him that way, but I don’t know how to let him down. I was hoping you’d come over and help me out.”

“What’s your plan?” You bit your lip, glancing over at Minho, who was gripping the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles white.

“Well, if you’d be willing to kiss me for a while, that might get the message across.”

“You want me to kiss you?” You widened your eyes, Minho’s head snapping towards you, before quickly looking back at the road as if he were pretending he totally wasn’t listening.

You didn’t realize how bad it could sound out of context, and Minho’s frustration was evident.

“Haha, you know I was joking, girl. I’m just not good at confrontation, and I know you are. You know how to bite back at people.”

“I’m not so sure that’s what you meant, but if you need some help, then I’ll be happy to come over.”

“Awesome, thanks. So, I can’t wait to meet Lee Know. You talk about him all the time; he sounds really sweet.” Her tone was sweeter and more sincere.

Suddenly, you felt a warm hand gently land on your thigh, the touch sending a shiver down your spine as it traced teasing patterns on the exposed skin where your skirt had ridden up. Minho's touch was deliberate, and you could feel the heat radiating from his fingers as they traced teasing patterns on your skin.

You turned your head to stare at Minho, whose gaze was locked on the road ahead. His face was impassive, but there was a steely edge to his eyes that betrayed his annoyance.

“Um, yeah,” you managed, feeling Minho’s hand slip higher up your thigh. “He’s great.”

“What’s going on? You okay?” your friend asked, her concern evident in her voice as she picked up on your distracted tone.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you said, gasping quietly as Minho’s fingers gripped your inner thigh, his touch becoming more insistent.

You grabbed Lee Know’s misbehaving hand before it could go any further. His touch was electrifying, and despite your attempts to focus on the conversation, the heat of his fingers was impossible to ignore.

“Uh, I just... got distracted,” you stammered, trying to keep your voice steady. “We’re almost there, so maybe I should call you back later?”

“Sure, no problem,” your friend agreed, her tone tinged with concern. “Just let me know if you need anything.”

“Will do,” you replied, ending the call quickly. As soon as the phone disconnected, Minho’s hand withdrew, and he turned to you with a look of feigned innocence.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice deceptively casual as he focused on the road ahead.

“I could ask you the same thing,” you shot back, glaring at him but with a teasing glint in your eyes. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Minho said, his lips curling into a playful pout. “I guess I just didn’t like hearing my girlfriend sounding all flirty on the phone with someone else.”

You tried to hold back a laugh, your irritation melting into amusement. “Minho, she was joking with me.”

“Yeah, well,” Minho said, his tone softening as he glanced at you with a hint of vulnerability. “I just want your attention too.”

Your heart melted at his words. The way he looked at you, so earnest and a bit pouty, was impossible to resist.

You grabbed one of his hands, guiding it back to rest on your leg. You could see the way his breath caught in his throat as he realized what you were doing.

His fingers slowly inched up your skirt, brushing over your heated skin. You trembled, attempting to stay quiet as Minho's hands caressed your bare thighs, his touch sending sparks of electricity through your body.

"Baby," you murmured, "I can't have you driving off the road because you're distracted."

"I'm not distracted," Minho insisted, his fingers dancing along the edge of your panties. "I'm focused."

"Really?" You arched an eyebrow, glancing over at him.

"Mm-hmm." His fingers slipped beneath the lace of your panties, brushing against your sensitive flesh.

You gasped, grabbing his wrist to try and still his movements. "Minho," you warned, a slight tremor in your voice.

"What's wrong, baby? Didn't you want me to do this?" he asked, his voice dripping with mock innocence as he slid his finger along your slit.

"Min," you hissed, squeezing your thighs together. The friction of his fingers sent shivers of pleasure through your body, and you bit your lip to stifle a moan.

"That's right," he said. "Don't forget, you're mine."

"Yours," you gasped, arching against him as his finger flicked at your clit.

The sensation was almost too much, and you had to fight the urge to writhe in your seat.

"Good," Minho said, his voice rough with arousal as he pressed his finger deeper, sliding it inside you.

Your head fell back, and you closed your eyes, lost in the feeling of his touch.

"You're so wet," Minho teased. "Just from me touching your thigh?"

"Mm," you whimpered, gripping the armrest as Minho's finger curled inside you.

"Only pay attention to me," he commanded.

You shivered at his possessive words, your back arching against the chair.

"Shit," he murmured, his eyes struggling to stay on the road. "You make me want to pull the car over and fuck you right here."

Your breath hitched, and your core tightened at his words. "Do it," you challenged, your voice shaky.

"What?" he asked, glancing at you briefly.

"Pull the car over," you repeated, "and fuck me."

Minho sucked in a sharp breath, his grip on the steering wheel tightening with tension.

"Don't tempt me," he warned, his voice husky.

"Please," you begged, your body craving his touch. "I want you, Min."

"Be patient," he warned, his finger curling up into you and hitting you in the perfect spot.

You moaned, your head falling back against the seat. "I can't," you whined, your hips rolling against his hand.

"You can, and you will," he said, his thumb brushing over your clit as his index and middle fingers worked their way into you.

"Min, I need it," you groaned, your hips grinding against his hand, seeking relief.

Minho breathed, his fingers thrusting deeper into you, "You're so desperate for me."

"Please," you pleaded, "I'm desperate, I can't hold on."

"You're lucky I'm even entertaining you now," Minho said, his cock obviously hard in his pants.

You could feel the tension in his body and the way his fingers moved inside you with a renewed fervor.

"Don't pretend like you're not just as turned on," you teased, your fingers gripping the armrest as his hand began to pick up its pace.

"I am," Minho conceded, "but I have a little more self-control than you."

"Don't have self-control," you groaned, your hips rocking against his hand as you sought release.

"You're a little slut for my cock, aren't you? Can't even wait." He smirked.

You bit your lip, unable to argue, as his fingers thrust deeper inside you.

"Just give me what I want, Min," you whined, the pressure building in your core.

"So impatient," he said, his fingers curling again, repeatedly hitting the same spot.

You gasped, your back arching as the pleasure overwhelmed you.

"Minho," you pleaded.

"Let go," he commanded, his thumb teasing your clit with purpose.

You cried out, your orgasm crashing over you as his fingers worked you through your high, feeling yourself clench over his fingers.

You whimpered, the aftershocks of your climax making your body tremble with desire.

Minho pulled his hand away, his breath shaky as he brought his fingers up to your mouth.

"Lick it up," he said, his voice low and commanding.

You obliged, licking the salty-sweet taste from his fingers.

"Good girl," he praised, his cock visibly twitching in his pants.

Your body is still aching for him inside of you; just the sight of it makes your mouth water.

"Fuck me," you pleaded. "Please."

Minho shook his head. "I can't do this here, not yet. We're almost there."

"But,"

"Behave and wait," he commanded, his voice firm and unwavering.

You squirmed in your seat, the lingering burn of desire coursing through your body.

"Stop acting like a brat," he scolded.

Your hand meets his thigh now, trailing up.

"Oh, but what if I am?"

"Stop trying to rile me up," he said, his voice like a warning.

You grinned, enjoying the effect you had on him.

"Or what?"

"Or I'll spank you," he threatened, his eyes locking on the road.

You bit your lip, feeling a mischievous idea taking shape in your mind.

"Pull the car over and do it, then," you teased, your hand reaching out to brush against the bulge in his pants, tracing a line down.

Minho hissed, his hips involuntarily jerking against your touch.

"We're going to be late," he warned.

"Let's be late, then."

Minho let out a breath, his knuckles white on the steering wheel as he struggled to maintain control.

"If I pull the car over now, you're going to regret it later."

You bit your lip, playing with your seatbelt.

"Is that a promise?"

"Fine," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "You want to be fucked so bad, then let's fucking do it."

He pulled the car over to the side of the road, putting the car in park, right on a dirt path with only a single tree covering the view.

He unbuckled your seatbelt and picked you up to lay across his lap.

He lifted your skirt and yanked your panties down, and you could feel his erection straining against his pants.

You gasped, feeling the cool air against your ass, exposed and ready.

"You remember the safeword, correct?"

You nodded, a shiver of excitement running down your spine.

"Beg," he ordered, his voice rough and commanding.

"Please," you pleaded, your voice desperate. "Please, fuck me."

"Again."

"Min, please," you moaned, the friction of his cock rubbing against your sensitive spots driving you crazy. "Please, I want your cock. I need it."

"Tell me what a slut you are."

"I'm... " You inhaled sharply, a mix of sensations flooding you as his hand made contact, your thoughts clouding with each touch.

"Say it," he insisted, his hand massaging your reddened cheeks and his fingers pressing into your tender skin.

"I'm your slut," you moaned, the shame and humiliation only making the heat between your legs grow.

"Good girl," he praised, his hand caressing the curve of your ass.

You whimpered, the sensation overwhelming as he teased you.

When he readjusted you to sit in your lap, the sting was evident.

He undid his pants and let his cock spring free. He was huge and throbbing, a bead of precum glistening at the tip.

You couldn't help but stare at the sight of his cock, which sent a jolt of pleasure through your body.

You needed him, you wanted him, and you could barely hold back.

"Fuck me," you whined, desperate for him to fill you up.

He took his time, his cock grinding against your wetness, coating the length of him in your arousal.

"Please," you begged, his cock brushing against your clit, the sensation making you gasp.

"Patient," he warned, his hips rolling forward as his cock rubbed against your folds.

You moaned, the friction against your clit driving you crazy.

"I need you," you pleaded, the ache between your legs becoming unbearable.

He sighed out, the head of his cock finally pressing against your entrance.

You gasped, your body trembling with anticipation as he slowly pushed into you.

The stretch was almost too much, but the pain mixed with pleasure was intoxicating. You whimpered, your walls clenching around him.

You moaned, the sensation of his cock filling you up nearly driving you over the edge.

"Minho, fuck, please move." you pleaded after a few seconds of him settling inside you.

His eyes hit yours like daggers, his stare sharp. "You wanted my cock so bad, so you're going to do it yourself."

You blinked at him, not fully comprehending what he meant.

Minho grabbed your hips, lifting you up and down his shaft.

Your eyes widened, realizing what he meant. You began to move your hips up a little, your hands laid on his chest for support.

"There we go," he cooed, his fingers digging into your hips as you rode him. "Just like that."

You bit your lip, the feeling of his cock hitting you in all the right places driving you crazy.

Leaning forward, he captured your mouth in a hungry kiss. You moaned into his mouth as his cock hit your walls perfectly, eliciting a deep pleasure.

Lee Know broke the kiss, his hand tangling in your hair, pulling your head back.

He kissed your neck, biting the sensitive skin. The pleasure and pain mingled together, making you cry out.

"Keep going," he instructed, his tongue tracing a path along your jawline.

You obeyed, persisting in moving your hips as he drove his cock into you, the angle enabling him to penetrate even deeper.

You moaned, the sensation becoming almost unbearable.

Suddenly, you felt his hand lightly wrap around your neck, the pressure adding to the overwhelming pleasure.

You gasped, the sensation sending a powerful jolt through your body when he lightly squeezed, just enough to drive you wild.

You felt the pressure intensifying, your inner walls starting to flutter around his throbbing cock. Your breathing quickened as you felt yourself nearing the edge, the combination of his touch and the intense stimulation pushing you closer to the brink of ecstasy.

With one final, deep thrust, you felt a wave of pleasure wash over you as you reached your peak, your body wracked with waves of intense pleasure.

Your hips jerked, riding out the aftershocks of your orgasm, and you collapsed against him, completely spent.

Minho grabbed at your hips, continuing to pound deeper into you, his movements becoming more frantic as he chased his own release.

His breathing grew ragged, his hands gripping you tight as he fucked you with renewed vigor, his cock hitting your walls in just the right place, causing tears to form in your eyes from the overstimulation.

Finally, with a moan, his body tensed, his cock twitching inside you as he spilled his release.

After a moment, he pulled out, his breathing heavy as lay his head against the headrest.

Your legs were trembling from the overstimulation, your face was flushed with a tear streaming down, and your hair was tousled.

Not to mention you now had marks on your neck and ass.

You were too tired to move, it felt like your body turned into lead.

He held you in his arms, brushing his fingers through your hair.

You closed your eyes and let the sound of his heartbeat lull you to sleep.

-

"Hey, are you okay?"

You opened your eyes, your vision blurred.

"Huh?"

You looked around and realized you were in your own bed, not the car.

You glanced over at Minho, his gaze soft as he watched you.

"What happened?" you asked, still disoriented.

"You fell asleep on me," he chuckled. "This is why I suggested we don't go all the way..."

The realization fully hit you, you picked up your phone to find multiple messages from your friends telling you to 'get better soon' and others asking where you were.

"Sorry for getting carried away," you apologized, looking down, and feeling slightly embarrassed.

Minho grabbed your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours.

"It's okay, it was worth it."

You looked at him, his eyes full of affection.

You smiled, squeezing his hand.

"I love you."

You leaned over, placing a soft kiss on his lips.

"I love you, too."

He returned the gesture, pulling you close.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, wrapped in each other's arms, until Minho's phone began to vibrate.

He glanced at it, sighing.

"It's Chan again."

"We should get going," you said, not wanting to keep them waiting any longer.

"Are you sure about that?" he asked, with the cocky look on his face back again.

You tried to sit up but immediately felt your body protest, the soreness kicking in.

"Fuck," you muttered, flopping back down onto the mattress.

"I did warn you," he smirked, his hands rubbing at your sore legs.

"Don't touch me," you said, trying to swat his hand away.

He laughed, kissing your forehead.

"Don't be mad, I told you this was a bad idea."

You frowned, your heart melting a little at his cute gesture.

"You win."

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

[espinosaurusrexex]

Celeste

FallenAngel!BuckyBarnes x Female!Reader AU

summary: Heaven is not what they tell you. The celestials don’t live in harmony and the devil is not as far as you might think. He’s vicious in his ways to seduce every being - makes even the mighty fall from grace. And one of them happens to be your guardian angel. When James is banished from the heavens, he is forced to amend his sins on earth. What did he do wrong, you might ask? Well, he fell for the one he watched over.

a/n: I thought I’ve read a FallenAngel!Bucky fic on here before. But I couldn’t find it. So please, if you know it, tag me. Anyway, this is my take on the au.

word count: 20.3k (good lord, someone take my computer away)

warnings: this might offend some people (remember this is my fantasy world - I don’t know much about angels and the whole shebang), soulmate trope, the devil, also God?, jealousy/envy, mentions of killing and abuse, banishment and punishments, he falls first (literally lmao), fluff and wholesomeness, agony, angst (of course, with happy end!), smut (wingplay, Bucky‘s got heavenly dick, Virgin!Bucky, size kink, cum play) !MINORS DNI!

ﾟ✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ｡✭･ﾟ✶ 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ✧*･ﾟ

all image credit goes to @animarvelita on TikTok (there's more at the end)

James.

Wake up, James.

Wake up!

The wind hits his lashes before he opens his eyes. He’s falling. He’s falling and there’s nothing he can do. 

❁ ❁ ❁

It’s eerie outside, you note as your towel glides over the countertop. The entire window of the diner displays dark clouds. Dark clouds that will soon bring the heavy rain Old Lee has been mumbling about for days now. 

Not too many people believe what the crazy farmer says but you can’t help but notice how much he really understands of the world. 

Nick hits the little golden bell by the serving hatch and you take the fresh sandwiches to a table by the door. 

“Anything else I can get you?”

“We’re good, honey.”

You just nod as your eyes stay focused on the small parking lot outside. You wipe your hands on your apron and return to the counter when the first drop of rain hits the window pane.

❁ ❁ ❁

Branches are aching beneath his weight when he crashes through the trees. A deep thud echoes in the woods as his body hits the ground. It’s raining. 

Every tragedy needs rain.

❁ ❁ ❁

"Are you alright, dear?" Peggy, one of the regulars, a wise old lady, asks and points to your hand that's settled above your chest. 

You clear your throat. "I'm fine. Just a frog in my throat." You nod with a tight smile. Something seems to have knocked the air out of your lungs. But you've been feeling like you are coming down with something for a few days now. 

"Must be the weather," Howard comment's next to Peggy, and his newspaper crumbles beneath his touch. 

You turn and refill their coffee mugs. "Yeah... must be." But you can't shake the feeling it has brought to you. 

"It's always the weather." Peggy nods before the door to the diner opens and Old Lee enters, his muddy boots dirtying the checkered floors. You scrunch your nose. You'd be the one cleaning that up later, Scott surely won't do it. 

"This ain't a normal April storm, folks." His hat tips before he sits at the counter in front of you. "You look like you’ve been trampled by a cow.”

"It's just the weather," you say and place a cup of hot tea in front of him. That's just Stan: brutally honest and strangely right about everything. 

❁ ❁ ❁

Pain is strange. His feet get caught in the thorned bushes. Golden blood is the only evidence of his path.

And it’s slowly turning black.

❁ ❁ ❁

The storm outside intensifies, the rain hammering against the diner's windows with an unrelenting force. Old Lee's words linger in the air, stirring a sense of unease among the patrons. You glance outside, noticing the darkness creeping in as if it's swallowing everything in its path.

A shiver runs down your back as you remember how much Pietro would have loved this storm. Your mind drifts back to the memory of him. He always found solace in the chaos of nature, seeing beauty even in the fiercest storms.

But he's is gone now, lost to you in a way that is irreversible. The ache in your chest intensifies as you try to push away the memories, focusing instead on your tasks at hand.

Stan’s voice is low and gravelly when he murmurs again. "You can't outrun the storm, kid. It's coming for all of us, whether we're ready or not."

His words are chilling, but you shake it off, forcing a smile as you refill his tea. 

"We'll weather this storm just like we always do." Peggy chimes in as her hand lands on yours with her calming touch. But your heart is hammering in your chest, still. Something feels off. As if a piece fell out of place, waiting to be discovered, and raving to make a mess. 

❁ ❁ ❁

It’s cold and muddy here, no comfort in sight. But he’ll venture on until he reaches you. His soul is pulled to your very presence. 

He needs to find you. Needs to amend his wrongs. Though is it really wrong to love?

❁ ❁ ❁

It’s dark out when you hang your apron in your locker and wave a short goodbye to Nick. Pulling your coat tightly around you in an attempt to brace yourself for the wind, you step outside into the deluge. The rain lashes against your skin, soaking you to the bone on your walk through deserted streets and cold concrete. 

You sigh thinking about everyone that made it home dry, probably sitting in their beds right now, watching the rain roll down their window pane with a hot cup of cocoa in hand. 

But that seems to postpone itself, you realize as you abruptly halt. You look around. This isn’t your usual route home. But something pulled you off your intended path and toward an unfamiliar alleyway. Confusion mingles with a strange sense of anticipation as you find yourself drawn deeper into the darkness. 

Your head is screaming at you. This is dangerous. You shouldn’t be doing this. Why are your feet moving anyway?

And then you see it. Or rather... him?

A figure stands at the end of the alley, obscured by shadows and rain, but there's something about him that sets your heart racing.

"Hello?" you call out tentatively, your voice barely audible over the storm. You hate how weak you sound. 

He steps forward into the dim light, his features illuminated by a flickering streetlamp. Dark hair and a strong yaw, wide muscular shoulders, his arms are adorned by silver cuffs. His whole being is well over six feet. But he seems even taller as something wide reaches from behind him, almost hugging his shoulders and prodding up towards the sky. He steps forward again and your breath hitches in your throat when you can finally make out the grey feathery wings standing from behind his back.

But you don’t run. You don’t even stumble back. Your feet are frozen to the ground. Then his eyes meet yours, and for a moment, time seems to stand still as you’re caught in the intensity of his gaze. 

“I’ve been searching for you,” he says, his voice almost like a whisper to the wind. Calling and marvelous. 

Everything inside you tells your how absurd this situation is. How fast you should be running anywhere but here right now. But the way your heart races doesn’t feel like fear. In fact, you’re not even scared. More fascinated, awestruck, intrigued. You know he wont hurt you. 

“I don’t know you.” You manage to stammer, your eyes still locked with his. The tension overwhelming and electrifying all at once.

“That should be obvious.” He points to his wings smiling amused, a smile that you know holds a universe of secrets and promises. You want to learn them all, you catch yourself thinking as your eyes slip to his lips. 

“I don’t understand.”

“You don’t need to understand,” he replies and it’s the first time his wings move behind him. “Just trust that we are connected in ways you cannot even begin to imagine.”

“Well?” You clear your throat and cross your arms in front of your chest, relieved your body is able to move again, though the pose feels rather awkward. “Why are you here?”

He seems shocked for a moment, as if he hadn’t expected you to play along so fast. And, to be honest, neither did you... at least a little. 

“I need to...” His mouth falls shut again and he turns his head down to the side, shoulders heaving. “I guess I need a place to stay.”

“With me?” That’s insane. You know it is. But why does it not surprise you? 

He nods, you shake your head. “I cant just accommodate a...” You gesture to him and he clears his throat awkwardly. 

“Angel.”

“Right, of course.” You chuckle as you scan his body again. Only now do you see the torn clothes and bloody feet. Drenched through and through. 

You sigh. “I don’t even know your name...” 

His eyes are sparkling, the smallest of twitches making him look a little softer, tangible even. You’re not afraid of him. And it messes with your head. You should be scared, right? But all there is in your body is the steady tingle pinging from your heart back to your stomach. 

“It’s James.” His smile is handsome when he reaches out his hands, offering you a better look to his toned arms.

Whywhywhy? “Alright.” 

❁ ❁ ❁

James looks out of place in your rather small living room. His size dwarves every piece of furniture carefully picked out to make your house a home. He makes it look like a doll house just by standing in it. 

But he doesn’t seem to care. James ducks when he passes through the door and you watch his feathers ruffle as they press themselves to his back in order to fit through. 

You’re not sure what to do. Never in your life did you think you would end up in a situation like this. There is no protocol for hosting celestial beings. Though a how to angel dinner party guide would come in handy now. Did he even eat?

Something must be wrong with you. You let a total stranger into your house, even though your track record of people skills is not exactly the best. One that is borderline freakishly tall and has wings. Wings that look soft and beautiful. But strong and kind of intimidating as well. But why does he feel so safe?

“You’re staring.” James notes and a handsome grin spreads across his face. 

“I’m not really used to having angels in my house to be honest.” The sarcasm is dripping from your tone in subtle undertones. But James seems to enjoy it. “Why are you here? On earth... I mean.”

He stares at the ceiling and his wings sag a little. “I have a mission, dearest.” He tells and his eyes meet yours. They’re deep blue and stormy - just like the sky. You can see yourself falling lost in them. His presence is all-consuming, making you shiver. It reminds you that the both of you are drenched from the rain. A puddle has formed around your feet and James’s wings guide the water droplets to your hardwood floor in two perfect circles. His hair is curling at the ends, in the nape of his neck and the water is also running down his throat, pooling in the remains of his shirt. 

“What mission?”

“I cannot tell you yet.” 

You nod, even though you don’t understand. But you don’t want to pressure him. “Do you need a shower? Or... clean clothes?” The second you ask you feel stupid. It’s silly right? Why shouldn’t angels shower? 

Then again, the way he looks at you is one of surprise. “Yes, that would be good.” 

“Good. Yes.” With a sigh you flee through the hallway to your room in search for some clothes. 

❁ ❁ ❁

A shower. James is giddy. Human things have always excited him. He has been watching from the heavens for eons, never truly experienced them quite like this. But he’s intrigued. Especially when you offer them to him like he’s not an intruder in your life. 

If things were different, you would never know he even existed. But James is guilty of happiness that he gets to meet you in person. 

Up close, you’re even more perfect. You smell nice, your home feels cozier than anything he’s ever experienced, and your voice sounds just a sliver more comforting when its directed at him. 

He is smiling like a fool, standing in your living room - the one he knows by heart but so much more personal now. And when you return to him with a pile of grey cloth, his heart skips a beat. You bring him the familiar warmth that made him fall in the first place. But having you within an arm’s length makes all of it feel worth it. 

There is not an ounce of regret in him for being here.

Electricity shoots up his arm when you touch his hand. It’s cold and wet - he immediately vows to always keep you warm from now on - makes it his purpose to have you be comfortable for the rest of your life. 

You lead him to the bathroom, grinning sheepishly when you gesture toward your shower. 

“It might be a tight squeeze.” You point at the glass surrounding your bathtub. “But it’s all I can offer.”

“It will do just fine.” He reassures you. 

“I will leave you to it then.” James is confused.

“Are you not staying?”

“Sorry?”

“To help me.”

“Help you... shower?” There is hesitance in your tone, but James truly doesn’t know how to turn the thing on.

“Well, yes.”

“I...” Your eyes are big, staring up at him through surprise and nervousness. “I don’t want to intrude. Give you some privacy to- oh.”

His clothes are already on the floor. He knows this much. Shower is something one does naked. But you seem to be shocked when his whole body is revealed to you. Do you like it? James is sure he looks as close to a human as a person with wings can. So why are you still staring at his stomach?

His eyes catch yours as they move a little lower, your eyebrows raising just that much higher and a smirk places itself on his face. So, you do like what you see. He confirms silently. Not that he particularly knows why. He never noticed people by their bodies - only their soul, because that is the important thing - the one that never changes. 

And yours is the most enchanting of them all. 

❁ ❁ ❁

You watch as James sit’s down on the opposite end of the sofa. He’s declined every offer you have made for him to feel a little more welcome. But he seems content. His smile hasn’t left his lips ever since you led him to the bathroom.

You couldn’t help but notice his body when he revealed it all  to you. It’s like every inch of him is carved by the gods. He looks soft in the right parts, strong enough not to be skinny with his height. And his male parts. Well, they look more than satisfactory. 

You felt like a pervert staring him up and down while he stood there with this kind of proud innocence to him, wondering if he understood how proud he could be of his looks. There is so much you don’t know about him. It’s not like you haven’t talked. 

You have. But he speaks in riddles. 

“You are staring again.” James notes and you immediately snap your head elsewhere. 

“I’m just figuring this situation out, I guess.”

He smiles encouragingly. “You can ask questions. I imagine you’ve been eager to know more.”

You exhale long, taking courage to look him in the eyes. “And you will answer all of them honestly?”

“Honestly, yes.” His teeth find his bottom lip and you squeeze your thighs together.  “I cannot promise to answer them all.”

“Okay.”

“Good.”

A comfortable silence settles between you as you think of the first thing you could ask him. Maybe you should get the most obvious one out of the way. Maybe you should ask him more about himself, though you’re not sure how personal he can get if he spent his entire life in heaven. You just assume there is too much to do to pursue actual hobbies and such. 

“Is there a God?”

“Starting with the light questions, I see.” You just look at him with intrigue. Already lining up all the other questions no-one else in this world has the opportunity to have answered. James sighs and then nods. “Yes, God exists.”

“Do you know God?”

He hesitates, his eyes fleeting to the end of the room and then back to you. “Yes.”

“Why did that answer take you so long?”

His jaw tenses and his eyes find the floor as if he was cursing himself for offering this situation. But then again, you haven’t heard him cuss once. Maybe you’re wrong. “It was under rather... unfortunate circumstances.” 

You nod as if you understand. But you can only imagine. “So, he’s like the big boss, only getting involved when things escalate?”

James looks caught, his wings draw in closer. After a moment, he clears his throat and his feathers ruffle with a small shake. “First of all, it’s she/they. And second, ... I guess you could say that, yes.”

“I knew it.” You grin as the pride washes over you at this information. “Why did she never correct us?”

“Let’s just say mankind doesn’t have a great track record of enforcing things that go against their believe... Not that it would be believable if someone told the story of meeting an angel who told them God is a woman.”

“Fair point. That person would have probably been burnt alive.” You nod again, crossing your legs and turning to him on the sofa. James takes a moment to rake his eyes over your body, making you feel tingles all over. You clear your throat. “Speaking of torture... Why do we have war and world hunger?”

“Please do not take this the wrong way. Those are issues that very much concern God or anyone that want’s the best for her people, but she’s busy. She manages everything else that has gone south since.”

“Since what?” You partly enjoy the way James talks to you as if you are an insider, but you only understand half of what he’s saying. 

“Since she and Lucifer had a big fallout.” He shrugs, but it just adds to your confusion.

“I’m not following.”

He rolls his eyes as if it were your fault you don’t know about this supernatural fight. “They had a disagreement. Lucifer’s response to God’s proposal was an ill-conceived frivolity which ended up becoming the patriarchy.” 

To say you’re stunned is a serious understatement. “You’re telling me the devil threw a tamper tantrum and that’s why we have inequality? How did he even do that?”

James shakes his head. “...Yes. The trial is still in progress. But it may be calming to know that we have not figured out exactly how he convinced an entire species of males being the stronger part of it.”

“No, James. It is not calming to know.” You sigh and watch as he clasps his hands in his lap, his cuffs glistening in the lamplight. God, they’re big. You immediately scold yourself for thinking this, feeling weirds as the words of your mother echo in your head ‘Don’t you dare use God’s name in vain’. “What exactly has God done since then?”

The smile returns to his face and you readjust yourself on the sofa. “Oh, you wouldn’t want to know how this world would look if she hadn’t kept busy with sorting it.”

Your nose wrinkles in a frown, as you check the points off in your head. “I really don’t think it can get that much worse. Climate change, mass genocides, what else could there be?” You nod at each one just as James lifts up his fingers and opens his mouth as if he is starting to count. 

But you stop him. “Please don’t.”

“Yes, that is probably for the best.”

It is silent for a moment as you try to process all the information you have just attained. It is a rather weird feeling. Knowing you know what no-one else on earth does and not being able to tell. Knowing there will be no-one believing you. 

You sigh when your head starts spinning from how crazy this day has been. James seems to be rather relaxed considering he barely knows you. His dark hair falls around his face perfectly, the back of it forming a cute curl in the nape of his neck and your fingers itch to touch it.

But you refrain, reminding yourself that he is a stranger - and an angel. Beside the fact that he has not once reached out to you, just randomly touching his hair would probably be the weirdest thing to do right now. 

“Can I ask you something?” He suddenly breaks the silence and you shoot a thank you to the sky for saving yourself from going down the mental rabbit hole of how soft his hair looks. 

“Yes.”

“Why did you take me in?” James’s eyes are boring into yours so innocently. If it weren’t for the giant wings on his back, he would almost look like a normal clueless and incredibly cute guy. And yet he just revealed outerworldly gossip as if you were discussing the latest celebrity TMZ. 

“I-“ you trail off, thinking about it for a while. You aren’t sure how much you can tell him. But James has been genuine from the start. It wold only be fair to do the same. “I felt like you needed me.”

A weird feeling takes over your body suddenly. Like a warm flush rushing through you. James fidgets in your peripheral and nods in understanding. “I did. I do.”

It’s like the reality of it all hits you like brick when a noise sounds from outside and his wings twitch, pushing over a pile of books on the cupboard behind the sofa. This is not normal, something tells you, and yet your stomach flutters in a way that feels a lot like butterflies. Everything about James is fascinating to you. You constantly fight the urge to reach out and brush your fingertips over every part of him. And for some reason, your mind tries to tell you that he would let you. 

“Why are you really here, James?” You voice is only a whisper when the rattling outside subsides. It’s probably a raccoon or something. But James looks a little nervous all of a sudden. 

“I’m afraid that is one thing I cannot tell you, love.”

You sigh. “I guess... I just want to help. Having you stay here doesn’t feel like it’s enough. There has got to be something you need to do.”

“That is very kind of you. I admire your bravery and openness.” His lips spread into a smile, his hand lifting from his lap as if he is about to place it on yours, but his fingers only strech and land back on the sofa between you. “But to be truthful, even if I knew what I had to do, I am not sure wether I would do it or not”

So he is a little deviant. You smile at the small observation. Maybe it’s the reason he is here in the first place. But you feel like you have asked James enough for tonight. Just on cue, a yawn escapes your lips. 

“You should rest. It has been a long day.” 

You nod, rubbing your eyes and rising from the soft cushions. “I have a spare bedroom. You can sleep there.”

“That is fine. I do not sleep.” James shakes his head as he rises with you out of curtesy. With his hands clasped in front of him he looks like a goth painting. 

“What? Never?”

“I am not human, dearest. My body attains energy in different ways.” You shudder again, blaming it on your sleepiness as you rub your arms when another yawn escapes you. 

“Maybe you can tell me about it tomorrow. I am really tired.”

“I will be watching over you.” Your name passes his lips like a song, sending another shiver through you. What the hell is the matter with you. You huff as you catch yourself again. It really never occurred to you how often you referenced to the supernatural... “Take all the rest you can get.”

“Good night, James.” You nod and wave awkwardly.

“Good night.”

You know James’s eyes are only you until you disappear into the hallway. But you cant help but feel safely watched over with him around. 

❁ ❁ ❁

They will find him, and they will send him further from you than he ever was.

❁ ❁ ❁

James hates the days you have to leave for work. He watches you with a sense of longing and resignation, knowing that he must find a way to navigate this separation once again. Though it is necessary he find a way to dodge the inevitable.

It’s the vexing thing about the celestial kingdom. They always leave one to find the laws on their journey. There is no book he could read on earth that could help him here. But he has seen the repercussions of disobedience, felt the weight of his transgressions bearing down on him like a heavy chain.

And yet, as he watches you prepare to leave for work, a sense of desperation gnaws at him from within. He wants to reach out, to beg you to stay, to keep you safe from whatever dangers may lurk beyond the safety of your home.

But he knows he can't. He's bound by duty, by the laws of God that dictate his every move. And so, with a heavy heart, he watches silently as you gather your things and head out the door, leaving him alone once more.

As the door closes behind you, James is left with nothing but the echoes of your footsteps fading into the distance. He knows he should use this time wisely, to prepare for whatever trials may lie ahead, but his thoughts are consumed by you, by the overwhelming need to protect you at all costs.

❁ ❁ ❁

There’s and angel in your home. And he’s so freaking attractive, it’s unfair. 

It has been a week since you found James. And despite the incredibly irrational decisions of yours to invite him into your home, nothing bad has happened to you. Sure, the first night you might have dreamt about him. He’s everything your fantasy books described an more. And you couldn’t help but let that tiny romantic sliver of you hope for the more. 

But James is more pious than any catholic boarding school kid you’ve ever met. 

He seems to enjoy a good joke and he’s quite confident. But he never once touched you. And while that should not be one of your first concerns, considering he’s a stranger and an angel, something inside you tells you he’s holding back. 

He never even flinches when you reach out to him. And the longing stares he sends your way make you shiver with anticipation. Yet there is no attempt to ever pull you in - even though you are so sure you were sending signals. 

Maybe there are no signals in heaven. What are you even saying? Of course there are no signals in heaven. You don’t even believe dating exists up there. 

“Yo, whaddup with ya today? I’ve been calling your name for a solid minute.”

“Sorry. Feeling a little off today,” you mumble to Nick and retrieve the food waiting in the serving hatch. 

“You can’t go home. I don’t wanna serve alone today.”

“Scott, there’s literally no-one here.” You gesture toward the few people sitting in their booths and sigh. “Besides, I never said I was going home.” 

“Don’t get mad. You barely texted me back this week. What’s so awesome about your home when I’m not there with you?” You feel the heat rising to your head at Scott’s comment. “You’d think she’d call me if she ever needed to hide something.” He mumbles to Nick who just laughs and flips a pancake. 

You turn to him with your fists by your side. “The weather is weird and cold, can’t I need a little down time?”

“Not from me!” Scott looks baffled. He’s your friend, and yes, you had other things to worry about than be on your phone this week. But you also knew he wouldn’t understand.

“You’re being a real pain in my ass today, Scotty.”

“Good, so everything’s back to normal then.”

You throw a towel in his face. “Shut up.”

“Cut it out, you two, there’s customers.”

Scott resumes to the back, effectively dodging his work and leaving you to serve the new customer. But your breath hitches in your throat when you look up from the counter.

James is standing in the door, already drawing looks of attention from a few people. He’s smiling back at them, even waving at a child before his eyes meet yours and your heart sets off again. It seems to always do that when he’s close. 

You rush toward him, wrapping your fingers around his cuffed wrist and he audibly exhales. 

“You can’t be here.”

“Why not?”

“Because-“ you lean in closer and James bows down to get his face to your level. “You’re and angel.” You mutter under your breath and the sexy smile returns to his perfect lips. 

“And how would they know that?” His eyebrow raises. 

“You-“ you lean back, examining his shoulders - only then noticing that his wings are not there anymore. “How?”

“I only show myself to truly important people.” He winks and you stumble back a little, his sudden boldness making your legs feel like jello. 

“What are you doing here?” 

James looks around the diner as though he has not planned this far. His eyes swerve to the counter and then back to you. “I want to watch you work. I enjoy spending time with you.”

“But you can’t be here without ordering.”

“Then I will oder.”

“You don’t eat, James. Do you even have money?”

That seems to surprise him. “No.” You shake your head and look at the tiled floor. James’s wrist is still wrapped in your hand but there is no attempt to hold you. So you drop it. Why did he even come here when he won’t touch you?

“Please, beautiful. Let me stay.” His eyes are genuine, his lips purse in a plea. All you can think about is how weirdly lucky you are that this Adonis of a being chose you for his quest. 

You bite your lip and watch him shudder. “Alright. Just sit by the counter and try to be inconspicuous.”

His smile spreads wide. “I’ll be as invisible as the air you breathe.”

You exhale and get back to work but unfortunately, his promise doesn’t last long. Before you know it, Peggy has chosen the seat right beside James. She’s leaning over to him at the counter and Howard just sits beside them with his newspaper in hand - as always. James seems just as invested in the conversation as Peggy and as you steal glances over to the pair of them, insistently hoping he won’t spill about his identity, you catch James’s eyes lingering on you. 

“You are a fine young man, James.” Peggy's hand lands on his, tapping it in a grandmotherly manor, though her eyes are glinting with something akin to longing. She whispers something into his ear you cant make out and James’s eyes shoot to yours, his face tinting rouge from one ear to the other. 

“And you are a remarkable lady, Peggy,” he clears his throat, his mind seemingly wandering elsewhere. “You remind me of a girl a friend of mine was in love with once.”

“Then he must have been the happiest man to ever live.”

Peggy’s hands tremble when she reaches for her cup of tea, her red lipstick taint the white porcelain as James watches her movements with a soft stare. He looks so protective of her, it makes your insides tingle. “He truly is, though he seems like he has forgotten about it lately. Is this your husband?” He gestures to Howard, who just slams the newspaper down in front of him, blank eyes staring at James while Peggy laughs and waves her hand dismissively. 

“This rascal?” She presses her hand to her chest as she tries to calm down. “No, dear. My husband died a long tome ago.” She smiles warmly, floating in melancholy when she continues, “I never loved another man since. He was a heaven sent. Strong, kind, always worked towards the greater good... and his looks were to die for, too.” She winks and James chuckles. 

“Oh I wish a love like that to everyone. Promise me something, James.” 

“Anything.”

“If your find it, never let it go.” Her hand clasps around his biceps, her tone a motherly sternness laced with affection. 

James eyes you again and it feels as if the air is shifting with tension. “My word is in God’s name, Peggy.”

❁ ❁ ❁

James feels the repercussions of his being on earth stronger every day. In heaven, he was miserable because he had to watch you live your life without him. On earth, he’s in agony because he knows, if he ever were to touch you, he would cease to exist.

It’s slanted. He gave up everything coming here and despite the fact that his wings stopped working the second he fell from the sky, he categorizes the uncertainty eating away at him as even worse. Hanging in limbo is more troubling than actually going to hell, he is sure of it. 

He watches you move about your house with the same longing look torturing his features since he realized how much he needed you. It’s laughable how dependent on you he has become. While you go about your life with the minor change of having a roommate, James despises the unforgeable distance heaven has created between you. 

You are friendly with him - you are friendly with everyone. James would even go as far as to say that you two are friends by now. But he wants so much more. So much more he cant tell you because even if you did know about his feelings, there is nothing either of you could do about it. 

James sighs standing from the sofa, ducking his head when he passes through the doorway to you. You never questions when he just follows you around. The soul bond probably keeping the curiosity at bay if it feels anything like his experience. It feels good for no explicit reason. 

You sort some bowls in your cabinet as he stands behind you, offering to place the ones higher up so you don’t have to struggle too much. “What’s heaven like, James?” You ask innocently through your movements. “Are there pearly gates and fluffy clouds?”

James loves when you say his name. It makes him feel closer to you than ever before. In a way, he equates it with your touch. Just as his saying your name is his way of reaching out to you. 

“More like endless paperwork and celestial coffee breaks.” Coffee breaks. He learned about those a while ago and he loves the concept. “But hey, the views are to die for.” He gets lost in your eyes, remembering how much more distant they felt when he was watching from above and he is thankful to be this close to you now.

You smile smugly, and thats when the heart race sets in again. He’s sure you feel it too. Because your eyes avert and your hand places itself atop your chest. 

You think something is wrong with you, he just knows it. It’s like the time you watched hours on hours of Gray’s Anatomy and then proceeded to research yourself into a frenzy about the sicknesses you might suffer. But James made sure then that there was not even a paper cut compromising you and he will do the same now, too.

He is desperate to tell you what it is you feel, that there is not much you can do and that he feels it ten times worse because he hates to see you suffer. But he needs to be careful about how much he reveals to you. 

“Oh my god, I’m getting paranoid,” you mutter to yourself and James smirks at your small slip up. He has noticed how you try to minimize your references in curses. It’s cute, really, because he knows how much you used to do it. It’s a little bit amusing, the small deviant trait of yours making him feel like he has found something in common with you and he’s almost proud of it.

You collect yourself, quickly, breathing in deeply and then turning around to him. “I have to run some errands today.” 

“Great, where are we going?” James asks with eagerness. Car rides excite him. He has always found them fascinating, but actually being in one is a whole new experience. 

You bite your lip and for once, James does not feel the familiar tingle in his stomach when you do so. There is sadness sitting in your eyes when you answer him. “Actually...” Your tongue darts out to wet your lip just for your teeth to dig into it again and an unfamiliar tightness travels through James’s body. “It is something I need to do by myself today. I hope that is okay.”

The angel nods vigorously, trying to ignore the pang in his chest. “Yes of course. I will leave you to it alone.” He steadies himself on the door frame and then heads to the living room where he grabs a book and settles on your window sill to look occupied. 

“It is nothing personal, James.” Your head dips from the doorway and he looks up. “It's just... it would be weird for you to be there.”

“I understand.” The way he adds your name to his answer makes him sick. But his body is feeling weird, not showing him the familiar signs of jealousy or anger he knows. It feels... warm and uncomfortable. 

“I will be back soon.” Your voice travels through the hallway and your footsteps along with it. James stares at the empty doorway for a while, his eyes shooting down to the book when you suddenly reappear. “Do you want anything from the store?”

“No, thank you.”

“Okay.”

And then the door falls shut. But before James can get consumed by his loneliness, he puts the books down - something about an ice breaker - and heads outside to follow you. 

❁ ❁ ❁

But earth can be a lonely place. At least hell will welcome you with warmth.

❁ ❁ ❁

You didn’t lie. You were at the store. But now that you’re treading on the small path towards the grey cemetery walls, James feels the fear spread through his body like a slow and painful death. 

He’s hiding behind the trees closing around the park, watching you as you halt before a simple headstone. He can feel your mourning deep within his heart, tugging, yanking, pulling on the tiny strings that sting so effectively. His temple leans against the rough bark as his eyes trace your slow movements. You place a small bouquet of flowers on the soil before the engraved letters, resting your forehead on the gold stone. 

He can’t see it completely, but he knows you’re crying. You always do. Everything within him screams to reach out to you, to hold you and sway you until the world feels less taunting, but he knows how difficult it could make things. 

So, instead, he remains hidden, a silent sentinel in the shadows bearing witness to your sorrow from afar. He feels the weight of your tears as if they were his own, each drop a dagger to his soul and a reminder of the distance that separates him from you. 

And yet, even in the midst of your pain, there is a flicker of something else - resilience, determination, a quiet strength that refuses to be extinguished. It’s a testament to your spirit, a beacon of hope in the darkness that threatens to consume you both. 

As you linger before the headstone, lost in your memories and your grief, James feels a surge of admiration swell within him. Despite the pain you carry, you continue to preserve. 

“It’s really a shame you never have the balls to comfort her.” A voice whispers in his ear and James shoots around to be met with a redhead whose eyes stare daringly up at him. “Then again... I guess it would be kind of ironic, don’t you think?” 

“What are you doing here, Wanda?” All angels are made weary of Lucifer’s spawn. They are vicious and manipulating, carrying the pits of hell to places that least expect them and watch it all go up in flames as they stand laughing on the sidelines. 

James knows the demon standing before him. More than once have their paths crossed throughout time, but he is surprised to see her every time anew. He refuses to show any sign of weakness in her presence, knowing that to do so would only invite further manipulation.

Wanda chuckles darkly, her laughter echoing through the trees. “Oh, nothing much,” she muses with a wicked grin, pacing around James to take a closer look at him. “Just though I’d remind you of what you’re missing out on by playing the good little guardian angel. But who knows... maybe one of these days, you’ll finally grow a spine and take what you want.”

James clenches his jaw, struggling to maintain his composure in the face of Wanda’s relentless provocation. He knows better than to let her under his skin, but the demon’s words cut deep, striking at the heart of his insecurities. He feels the surge of frustration rising within him as his fists clench by his sides, the weight of his silver cuffs pressing against his wrists like chains. “I can’t,” he whispers, his voice barely above a whisper. “You know I can’t”

Wanda’s gaze narrows as her arms cross in front of her chest. “Can’t or won’t?” She counters, her voice tingling with an unspoken dare. 

James hesitates, his mind racing with conflicting thoughts and emotions. "I... I don't know," he admits finally. "But it doesn't matter. My duty lies with heaven, with protecting her. I can’t do that when I’m lost in the in-between.”

Wanda's eyes glitter with amusement as she takes a step closer, closing the distance between them with an unnerving grace. "And what if heaven isn't where you belong?" she whispers in a seductive purr as her fingers flick against his cuffs. The sound travels through the trees, making you turn and look around you. "What if your heart longs for something more, something... forbidden?"

A shiver runs down his spine, a sudden realization dawning within James. For so long, he has clung to the safety of his celestial duties, fearing the consequences of straying from the path laid out before him. But now, as he stands face to face with the embodiment of temptation itself again, he can't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, heaven is not the place where he can truly flourish. 

“I don’t trust you, Wanda.” He admits genuinely, though the possibility of her words holding truth gnaws on his very soul.

“You shouldn’t.” She smirks devilishly, eyes flashing in a short glimmer of red and evil. “There will be consequences to disobeying celestial rules. But you will never find out if a life free of them would be more fulfilling to you if you don’t try.” She winks, setting uncertainty free within him. “Find me when you have made the right choice.”

As he watches Wanda disappear into the shadows, leaving him alone with his thoughts, James knows that he is standing at a crossroads—one that would determine the course of his destiny for eternity. And though the path ahead is uncertain and fraught with peril, he can't help but feel a glimmer of hope stir within him, a whisper of possibility that promises a future filled with love, and happiness, and the chance to finally be as close to you as he has always wished for.

❁ ❁ ❁

The night has broken over your small town by now. James has made it back with a conflicted heart before you came home from your errands. He knows you notice his silence as he normally enjoys to talk a lot to you. But you don’t say anything. 

He is just sitting quietly in the kitchen as he watches you make a cup of tea, wondering what it tastes like right before frowning at how scared he is to try a cup of hot water just because he doesn’t know what it would do to him. 

Wanda’s words come back to the forefront of his mind and the unease she instilled within his heart right alongside it. He has been longing to reach out to you for so long, has wanted to touch and comfort you in so many ways his mind began to spin. Especially after days like this, when you went to visit your brother’s grave. You would be crying yourself to sleep tonight. And you would get up tomorrow, wipe the sorrow from your eyes and continue to live your life as if nothing happened. Because you are strong and resilient. 

And James, even though he is finally present, is not able to offer you the solace you so desperately deserve. 

At least he thought so.

His eyes wander to the silver cuffs around his arms, feeling the weight and letting the subtle clink of them seep into his skull. He has never questioned why or how the rules of heaven applied to him. He never even thought about the consequences of breaking them until he felt the need to protect you. He never really cared until you became the most important thing in his life. 

Now, seeing the pain in your gaze, and feeling the guilt for being here, not soothing you gnaws on him, sending him back to a state in which he would kill to see you smile again. Free of fear and sorrow. 

You bite your lip when you settle on the chair across from his. Your eyes look dull, but James can’t help but think there is a question posed within them. Something desperate and restricted. Oh, how he would love to know what you’re trying to say. He is just too inexperienced with human interaction that he can get a read on everything just yet. 

James feels his heart picking up, knowing it beats in the same rhythm as yours, but he doesn’t dare speak, knowing his voice will betray him. Your tea cup is empty, your eyes tired, and he knows that this evening with you will end within seconds. 

“Good night, James.” You finally say, following the small ritual you have established with him as you wave at him weakly. 

Normally, he says it back. Normally, he guides you to the bedroom and closes your door promising to watch over you in silence. Normally, he doesn’t have a demon’s words ringing in his ears. 

But today, something feels different. As you gather your things and head towards your bedroom, a sudden surge of determination courses through him. He can't bear the thought of being separated from you, even for a moment longer.

With a sense of reckless abandon, and the words of Wanda hanging in his mind James makes a daring decision. Ignoring the warnings echoing in his every being, he reaches out to you, his touch barely grazing your shoulder as you turn to leave.

In that fleeting moment of contact, something shifts. A spark ignites between you, a connection so powerful and undeniable that it defies explanation. Time seems to slow as you both freeze, caught in the throes of a bond that transcends the boundaries of heaven and earth.

For a heartbeat, everything hangs in the balance, the air crackling with electricity. And then ...nothing happens. 

There is no rush of wind and light that makes him disappear, leaving behind only the echo of his presence lingering in the empty space between. There is nothing else welcoming him in wrath or absolute nothingness or whatever is supposed to happen if a celestial ever dared to touch a mortal.

He opens his eyes that he had shut tight without noticing. And you’re still here. In front of him, staring at his hand that is softly wrapped around your wrist. His mind is struggling to make sense of what just happened - or rather what didn’t. It was all a hoax. 

James feels rage bubble within him. And as you stand there, alone in the quiet stillness of the room, touching. He counts yet another reason why heaven was never where he belonged.

A single tear rolls down his cheek when he pulls you into his body and wraps his arm around you tightly. His heart beats violently, pumping the anger of knowing how much time he wasted not being close to you through his body. His wings follow close behind, sealing you into his warmth and creating a space just for you and him. It’s as if you are made for him. Your body tugs perfectly beneath his feathery white wings and he knows he’ll hold you like this for eternity. 

❁ ❁ ❁

He’s touching you. 

James is touching you. No, actually, he’s consuming you with his whole being, pulling you into the best hug you have ever received. His wings wrap around you protectively, engulfing you into his scent entirely. It’s earthy, and clean, and... heavenly. 

You chuckle slightly as your cheek presses to his chest, your head barely reaching his collar bone, but it just makes you feel enclosed by his presence from all around. You heart beats just as rapidly as his and you exhale in content as you realize that you’re not the only one feeling this connection. 

You don’t know what changed. Maybe you are not as good as hiding your sadness as you think you are. Or maybe there is a whole other reason behind this angel guarding you into the most loving hug you have ever experienced. But fact is, you needed it today more than ever. 

And James knew ...because he strangely knows so much about you. He feels familiar without trying and it is a weirdly comforting thing to experience. Especially after all you have been through. 

Hesitantly, and almost sorrowfully, you pull away from his warm chest. His wings loosen around you, his arms leaving just enough space for you to lean back and stare into those azure blue eyes of his. He’s beautiful up close. Long lashes frame his loving stare as his mouth tugs into a smile, taking yours right with it. 

“You touched me.” You say in awe as James’s eyebrows slightly raise. “You thought I didn’t notice, but I did.” 

There is a steak silence as his gaze travels over your face then roams his arms that are still holding you tightly close to him. “Should I not be touching you?” He asks carefully.

You can feel his hands retreating but you pull him right in before they’re gone. “I was just wondering when you would.” You snuggle back into his shirt and his hands cradle your head to him. “Is it embarrassing to say I’ve wanted you to do it for a while now?”

“Not embarrassing at all.” His chest rumbles with a chuckle. “I’ve wanted to do it even before then. I just didn’t know if I could.” The last part is a mere whisper that dissipates in your hair when his mouth presses to it in a feather light brush. 

A rush of warmth floods through you, filling every corner of your being with a sense of belonging you've never known before. Time seems to stand still, the world falling away until there is nothing left but the two of you, entwined in each other's arms.

"You've wanted to touch me?" you murmur, the words slipping out before you can stop them, a confession born of the unspoken longing that has lingered between you for far too long.

James's gaze softens, his fingers trailing gently along the curve of your cheek as he meets your eyes with a look of quiet intensity. "More than you could ever know," he replies. "But I feared the consequences.”

“What consequences?” James shakes his head as his thumb still lingers on your skin. 

“I don’t know.” You reach up to cup his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing against his cheekbones as you search his eyes again. It was stupid of you to assume he didn’t touch you because he didn’t like you. He was probably scared of what would happen if angels ever dared. The look in his deep blues tells you how worried he was. How long he withheld for the sake of dodging the unknown. 

“It’s not bad, is it?” You hand travels across his chest, feeling the muscles tense in its wake. “Touching.” 

James's breath catches in his throat, his heart pounding against his chest as he gazes down at you with a mixture of awe and reverence. And once again, you would love to know what is happening inside his brain. 

With a trembling hand, James cups your face in his palm, his touch gentle yet possessive as he leans in to press his forehead to yours. You cant help but feel that there is something keeping him from you, still. 

“Let me stay with you tonight, my beloved.” His fingers tighten around your face ever so slightly. “Let me hold you and keep you safe.”

“Safe from what?” You ask in a trance as your fingers bury in his hair and you play with the thought of pressing your lips to his. But he has taken so long to hug you. You don’t want him to be overwhelmed. 

“Anything.” He whispers back and closes his eyes. A whole new warmth consumes you when his words seep in, blanketing you in cherish and admiration. If this is what being appreciated feels like, you will fight to keep the feeling forever. 

“Okay.”

❁ ❁ ❁

Oh how much the celestials have lied. Flying is nothing compared to this. 

❁ ❁ ❁

As you bustle about the diner, taking orders and refilling coffee mugs with practiced ease, Peggy sits at her usual spot at the counter, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she watches you work.

"Something on your mind, Peggy?" you ask with a smile, setting down a plate of pancakes in front of a hungry customer.

Peggy leans in closer, her voice low and conspiratorial. "I couldn't help but notice that smile of yours, dear," she says with a knowing wink. "It's positively radiant today. Dare I say, it's almost as if you've got a secret?"

You chuckle, feeling a flush of warmth spread across your cheeks at her observation. “Hmm, I don’t know,” you reply coyly, unable to suppress the grin that tugs at the corners of your lips as you tab your finger against them. “What makes you think I’d share it with you?”

“Well, I am a loyal customer for one...” She pauses as she thinks of another point. “And I am old enough to think the secret dies with me." Peggy presses, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“Please, you know the entire town.” You laugh and Peggy waves her hand dismissively, though there is a proud smirk on her red lips. 

Before she can respond, a voice cuts through the air like a knife, sharp and tinged with bitterness. "What's all this about smiles and secrets?”

You turn to see Old Lee leaning against the counter with a grim expression. His worn-down straw hat flops over his eyes, making him look even more grumpy than usual.

"It's nothing, Stan," you reply, trying to defuse the tension with a forced smile. "Just some friendly banter."

Old Lee’s eyes narrow slightly. "Friendly banter, huh? You're squawking like a bunch of chickens in a henhouse."

Peggy rolls her eyes, clearly unimpressed by Stan's attitude. "Oh, hush up, Stan," she scolds, waving a dismissive hand in his direction. "Can't you see we're having a moment here? This is girl talk. Go and drink your tea like the grumpy old man you are.”

Old Lee shakes his head in response but wisely chooses to turn back to his drink. “We all know how the last time she came in here with a smile that big turned out.” Old Lee grumbles searching your eyes once more. “The frogs're telling me we’ll have another rain comin’ soon. You better be careful, sweetheart.”

You share a conspiratorial look with Peggy, either of you not sure wether to believe him or not. Stan is not one for sappy love stories, but he certainly hits the nail on the head with his predictions every time. His bold hint towards the last big death this town suffered glides off his tongue like a Sunday prayer and it ripples down your spine in ice-cold peaks. 

“That is in the past. Right now, I really am hoping we are talking about the charming gentleman I talked to the other week. He certainly is a sight for sore eyes.” Peggy’s eyes sparkle as Old Lee huffs into his cup.

She winks back at you and the smile returns to your lips, along with the giddy feeling you get when James is called into your mind. But before you can respond, the diner door swings open, signaling the arrival of another customer and putting an end to your conversation—for now, at least.

❁ ❁ ❁

A noise calls from the back of your house right before the sun starts its journey in the sky. You don’t wake as James tries to stir carefully with his arms still holding you tightly. He was not sleeping - he doesn’t need sleep, but he still feels groggy from the warm and comforting night being ripped away with the sound. 

It piques another time and now, James is sure, someone is trying to get inside. Within minutes he is out of bed, checking the window and then closing the door to your bedroom on his way to the back. 

He is ready to protect you at all costs, eager to show you how much you mean to him, but when he sees a touch of white beyond the window and hears the familiar rustling of feathers that accompany it, it only takes him a second to realize who has come to intrude your peace. 

Two men - angels - just as tall has James litter the kitchen once he opens the door and pulls them inside with both hands. Samuel, the one standing a little to the side, brushes his clothes off once he comes to a stand again, watching James with amusement and curiosity. “I see you haven’t changed much, James. A simple ‘hello’ would have been just fine.” He crosses his arms before his chest, his wings shaking the dowry rain from their feathers and right onto your kitchen floor. 

“Why are you here?” His eyes search those of Steven - a friend of his but also an angel ranking higher than James ever will.

“You know why we’re here.” He steps closer once he has composed himself again. “You are testing the heavens.” 

James huffs, feeling the anger rise inside him. If anything, heaven was testing him. So he goes on to ignore the blonde angel before him, willing his heart to calm at all the frustration accumulating at once. “Did you know it was a lie?” James starts instead. His voice is strained when he thinks of all the times he refrained from touching you just to keep you safe. “Just a way to keep us from initiating contact?” 

Steven doesn’t say anything and Samuel’s stare meets that of James again. Steven shows little remorse, the pride on display now more than usual. The supposed betrayal James has caused is nothing to the sting boring into his soul by the very man standing in font of him. Steven is cold, distant - when he should be a friend.

“I should have known.” James shakes his head. “Your duties have always placed higher than your friendships.”

“That is because duties are the most valuable virtue God can give.” Steven finally says and his jaw ticks angrily. 

James could never imagine being more loyal to a system placing as many restrains as heaven does. Not when he knows how good the real world can feel. How precious it is to smell flowers and hold the one you love in your arms well into the night. 

“You came here with a mission, James. And since your fall, you have done nothing but frolic throughout this place with your very own human.” Samuel is eerily still behind the broad blonde spitting one accusation after the other. But James decides not to comment on it just yet. 

“It is far more than that,” he rasps feeling the protectiveness flood his body. 

“We know. That is why you are here in the first place.” 

“What am I supposed to do, Steven?” James tries to keep his voice low, but his frustration is too great. Steven should be the one to understand better than anyone else. But he seems to have locked that part of him far away right now. “How can I amend a sin that is irreversible?!”

“Every sin can be amen-“ Steve’s eyebrows raise and Samuel’s eyes flickers from James and focuse behind him. That is when his heart beat picks up again. And as much as he loves you, he wishes with all his being that you are not standing behind him right now.

“Please, no.” He mutters and turns just to have you approach from the hallway with tired eyes. 

“What is happening? Who are you?” Your voice sounds sleepy, a hand rubbing over your face before you find yourself by James’s side.

“Angels.” He bites his lips, contemplating for a moment but deciding that you deserve to hear what is happening in your own home. A home he hopes to be part of forever. Besides, with Steven here, there is no ending this conversation without confusing you more. “They want me to abandon you.” The bitterness is evident in his tone. But he regrets it as soon as he catches the stutter in your heart.

“What?” It’s all you say, but the way you do breaks his collected facade. 

“James-“

“What do I have to loose, Steven?” his arms open wide. "They already cast me out. They took my freedom, they took it all.” His wings barely shake, just emphasizing his statement. 

Steve steps closer, causing you to slightly shove yourself behind James, his arm reaching around you, just not touching yet. ”But there is still a chance to redeem yourself.”

“What if I don’t want it?” James bites back. 

“Don’t act rash, James. Think about this.“

“I have.” Long and hard. Every night he holds you, he has enough time to do so. And he has come to the conclusion that nothing compares to having you this close to him... and only him.

“You know of the punishment placed for sinners who do not attempt to right their wrongs.” Steven is seething beneath the surface, James can tell. But he tries to stay professional. He can try all he wants. James has already made a decision. 

“What is he talking about?” Your voice takes him back to your presence. Your hands sneak around his forearm and hand, to which his body responds like a reflex. His fingers squeeze yours, his body seeks the heat of yours. Samuel looks at the interaction curiously, Steven settles for a disapproving taunt.

“I lose my wings. I lose heaven.” James explains to you, watching as your eyes open wider in shock. 

“What?” There is so much more behind your astound answer. What does this mean for us?

“James is banished from the heavens temporarily already.” Steven’s voice drips with authority, making you stiffen beside him. James hates it. And he doesn’t hate much. 

“Why?” You’re too soft for this, too fragile to take another betrayal so soon. He has just gotten started and he already feels you drifting away. Your eyes are glassy when you turn to Steven. “What could have possibly been so bad that you ended up here?” 

“You didn’t tell her?” Sam breaks his silence. The surprise is written all over his face just to be replaced by confusion when James utters his name in warning. 

“Tell me.” It seems as though his eyes switch between everyone in the room, trying to warn them all of what will happen if they take his opportunity of telling you himself.

“James is not just any angel.”

“Steve, stop it.” 

“He is your guardian angel.”

It all happens too fast. A look to Samuel tells him there is no ending this. Steven won’t stop until he has tried his all to have you turn from James. 

“And he committed the worst sin of them all.” You look shocked and expectant. The grip on James’s hands grows tighter with every syllable leaving Steven’s mouth. And James is silently cursing the angel in front of him “He killed a man... for you.” 

You stumble back and James catches you only to earn a warning glare from Steven and Samuel. 

“Brock,” you whisper and it sounds like the single word has taken the entire air out of your system.

Lighting brightens your house over the stifled morning gleam and thunder sounds dangerously in the distance. You’re flinching, though searching James’s eyes as he steadies you back on your feet. 

“You cant do this forever, James.”

“And what if I try?” He turns fully. “What if I would rather get myself killed than come back to heaven?”

“He wouldn’t” Steve is heaving, but Sam steps forward, Laying a hand on the blonde’s shoulder in an attempt to soothe his rage. “The soul bond affects her just as it does him.”

“What does that mean?” It’s barely a screech when you interrupt them again. Turning to James and tugging at his shirt, you convey the frustration of being kept in the dark through your features. “What does it mean, James?”

He sighs, shaking his head and then closing his eyes - hoping to escape this conversation. But it is happening. “It means, if I die... you will die, too. A soul need replace that of a guardian one.”

At this point, James questions his sanity. How could he have not realized the twisted ways of the celestial realm sooner? In an attempt to soothe both his aching head and your tired soul, he reaches out to pull you into a hug, but your hands swat his arms away.

James recoils as if struck, the sting of rejection shattering his heart into thousands of pieces

“You might think it wise to revisit what we offered you, James.”

The words hang in the air like a dark omen when Steven and Samuel disappear. With a heavy heart, James turns away from you, unable to bear the weight of your disappointment any longer.

As you walk away, James is torn between the desire to comfort you and the fear of causing you further pain. But when he reaches out to touch you, once more, your tears are a silent testament to the rift that now lies between you. 

"I... I'm sorry," he stammers, his voice choked with emotion. It’s a desperate attempt to fix this, even if he does not know how.

“Go, James. Please. I need time to understand all this-”

“I can help you.”

“-alone. I want to be alone.” You swallow hard. “Leave, please.” Your tears finally spill and James despises that he is at fault of them.

“Go.”

Feeling more abandoned than ever, James leaves you to your grief, the weight of his actions weighing heavily on his soul. In that moment, he realizes that the price of his newfound freedom may be greater than he ever imagined, leaving him trapped in a prison of his own making, forever haunted by the memory of the one he could never save.

He knows there are not many ways to fix this. But he is determined to find the one that will.

❁ ❁ ❁

He doesn’t remember earth to be quite this cold. 

Find me when you have made the right choice. The words keep ringing in his head. 

A little warmth would feel nice now.

❁ ❁ ❁

You were angry when you told James to leave. Angry, and hurt, and confused, and shocked, and fucking tired of it all. 

But now that he is gone, an unfamiliar emptiness has taken its place where your tingles used to be. Everything makes so much sense now. The weirdly familiar feeling. The sense of security around him - a total stranger at the time, who obviously possessed more strength than you could ever imagine. The instant pull from his heart to yours. 

The quiet of your house seems to close in on you. The walls feel tighter, the rooms emptier. Every corner holds a memory of James, a reminder of the presence that had once filled your life with warmth and mystery. His laugh echoing in the hallway, his silhouette framed in the morning light through the kitchen window, the way he seemed to know when you needed comfort before you even realized it yourself.

You sit at the table, staring at your untouched cup of coffee, replaying moments in your mind. The time he effortlessly carried your groceries when you insisted you could manage alone. The nights he stayed up with you, talking about everything and nothing, his voice soothing and familiar. The way he looked at you, as if you were the center of his universe.

The days seem endless without him. Simple tasks feel monumental in the absence of his reassuring presence. You find yourself hesitating before making decisions, second-guessing your choices, yearning for the silent support he always provided. The realization hits you: you had built your life around him, around the safety and stability he brought, even without knowing the full truth of who he was.

You cannot deny that a big part of you misses him despite all the lies he told you. Well, not lies entirely. You know he has always been truthful to you ...he just never told the whole truth until he was forced to.

And even though the other two angels who visited made him reveal his secrets to you, you feel like there is so much more to discover still. 

Your hand settles over your heart, trying to pull the constant racing around James back into existence. But it beats in profound silence, acting as though nothing has happened, when - in fact - everything has changed. James came into your life and unapologetically took your heart away. You don’t want it back. You want him back. Heart or not, your souls are connected. And now that he is gone, you know what you have truly been missing all this time. 

With a sigh, you rise form your chair and grab your keys, determined to find a way to help James out of the trouble he has caused because of you. A shiver runs down your spine at the memories of it all. James’s sin had good intentions, you know this much. But two people died at the time of it - though only one deserves your mourning. 

You pull your door closed and make your way to town hall. The entire left wing of the building is dedicated to the library and you are destined to find out more about the man who crashed into your life and took your heart away... and then disappeared. 

The library is quiet, the soft rustling of pages and the occasional whisper the only sounds that break the stillness. You approach the counter, where a librarian is meticulously organizing a stack of book. She looks up as you approach, her kind eyes lighting up with curiosity. 

“Hello, dear,” she says warmly. How can I help you today?”

You hesitate for a moment but then you decide to just start at the beginning. “I’m looking for some texts about angels,” you finally say, your voice barely above a whisper. “More specifically fallen angels... and the consequences of disobeying.”

The librarian raises an eyebrow and a look close to amusement and happiness reaches over her face. “That’s a rather specific topic,” she muses and your brow begins to sweat. Maybe this was a stupid idea. The woman is still eyeing you with a smolder, but then, as if you pushed a button, she shrugges and begins to type away on her computer. “Good thing it’s my job to get you exactly what you need.”

She nods slowly after a little while. “We do have some old texts and legends about angels. Let me show you.” With that, she lifts her body out of the office chair behind the desk and leads you to the far end of the library. It’s a quiet corner where the oldest books are kept. She pulls an ancient-looking leather-bound volume from a high shelf. For the place it has been kept, it is surprisingly dust-free. 

With a smile, she hands it to you and then wishes you ‘happy hunting’.

The book is heavy in your hands. The front is embossed in golden letters. Your fingers trace over it, feeling every ridge and dip. ‘Legends of the Divine and Fallen’, the title reads. 

When you flip through the pages, the book’s well-worn smell engulfs you and something inside you shifts. You brother loved old books. The one in your hand brings you right back to when you were kids. Pietro had a whole wall of shelves filled with his favorite stories. And more so than often, you snuck inside when he was out with his friends, grabbing one whose cover intrigued you the most and then getting lost in the pages until he came back and read it to you. 

He sparked your interest in reading - made you the bookworm you are today. And finally, probably caused you to jump into this adventure with James in hopes of finally living inside on of your fantasy worlds. 

You eyes get caught by a story in the book, your thumbs halting and fully opening the page as intrigue tingles in your entire body with every word you read. 

The Tale of Buchariel: The Curious Angel

In the celestial realms, where light and harmony prevail, there existed an angel named Buchariel. Renowned for his loyalty and dedication, Buchariel was also marked by an insatiable curiosity. His yearning to understand the world beyond the heavenly gates set him apart from his brethren, who were content to serve without question.

One fateful day, driven by an unquenchable thirst for knowledge, Buchariel descended to the mortal realm without divine permission. His eyes beheld the beauty and chaos of humanity, the joys and sorrows that defined their existence. It was in this realm, teeming with life and temptation, that Buchariel's fate took a dark turn.

As Buchariel wandered the earth, a demon of cunning and allure took notice of the angel's presence. This demon, skilled in the art of seduction, approached Buchariel with promises of forbidden knowledge and experiences that no celestial being had ever known. Blinded by his curiosity, Buchariel succumbed to the demon's temptations, engaging in acts that defied the sacred laws of the heavens.

Word of Buchariel's fall reached the celestial realm, and the angels were dispatched to retrieve their wayward brother. They arrived in time to save Buchariel from complete corruption, pulling him from the demon's grasp and returning him to the realm of light. However, the consequences of his actions could not be undone.

The celestial court declared Buchariel's punishment. He was stripped of his rank and given an ultimatum: he could return to heaven only if he vowed never to betray the divine will again. God, in His infinite mercy, offered Buchariel a chance at redemption. He was to serve as a guardian angel, watching over humanity and guiding them towards righteousness. In this duty, he could be close to the world, yet stay obedient to heaven. 

Buchariel accepted his fate, grateful for the opportunity to make amends. Yet, the legend speaks of the angel's perpetual struggle. Constantly exposed to the allure of the mortal world, Buchariel walked a fine line between duty and desire. His heart, once pure and untainted, now carried the scars of his past transgressions.

Eons passed, and Buchariel's vigilance never wavered, but neither did the temptations. His soul remained in perpetual conflict, torn between his heavenly duty and the memories of earthly sensations. The legend warns that Buchariel's fall could occur once more, for the battle within him is eternal. He is an angel forever on the edge of sin, a guardian who knows the weight of temptation, and a being who understands the cost of free will.

Thus, the tale of Buchariel serves as both a caution and a beacon. It reminds all who hear it of the delicate balance between obedience and desire, and the endless journey towards redemption that even the most divine must undertake.

A chill runs down your spine as you realize the parallels between the legend and James. The delicate balance between obedience and desire - serving and sinning. James did sin again. When he killed the man who ended your brother’s life. 

You sit in silence, the weight of your realization settling over you like a shroud. It’s clear that Jame’s story resembles that of Buchariel in too many ways to be a coincidence. He was weirdly comfortable on earth, now that you think about it. For Christ's sake he even told you he had met God ‘under rather unfortunate circumstances’. If what the legend says is true, unfortunate is the understatement of the century. Now you cant help but wonder what price he might pay for his defiance.

❁ ❁ ❁

The diner hums with its usual activity, the clatter of dishes and the murmur of conversations fill the air. You move mechanically from table to table, refilling coffee cups and taking orders, but your mind is elsewhere, clouded with thoughts of James and the emptiness his absence has left behind.

Peggy, sitting at her usual spot at the counter, watches you with concern etched on her face. She waits until you pass by her with the coffee pot before speaking up.

"What's happened to that smile of yours, dear?" Peggy asks, her voice soft and maternal. "You used to light up this place."

You force a smile, but it doesn't reach your eyes. "Just tired, Peggy. You know how it is."

Peggy's eyes narrow, not buying your excuse for a second. "Tired, my foot. Something's bothering you. You can talk to me, you know."

Before you can respond, Scott chimes in with a smirk. "At least now I know you’re back to normal," he says, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Thought you were gonna float away with all that grinning you were doing."

You shoot Scott a glare, feeling a mix of irritation and sadness. "Thanks, Scott. Really helpful."

“Always at your service” He tips his nonexistent hat, almost bringing a chuckle up within you. In his own way, he never faisl to cheer you up a little.

Peggy waves a dismissive hand at Scott and turns her full attention back to you. "Don't mind him, honey.” She leans in closer, her expression softening. "But seriously, what's going on? I haven't seen you this down in a while."

You sigh, the weight of your emotions pressing down on you. "It's complicated, Peggy. Someone important to me... well, they're not around anymore. And it's just... hard."

Peggy reaches out and pats your hand gently. “We all miss Pietro, dear. Losing someone is never easy... especially after all you’ve been through.”

You nod, grateful for her kindness, but the ache in your chest remains. You can't bring yourself to tell her it’s not your brother you are mourning at this time. "I appreciate that."

The hustle and bustle of the diner continues around you, but for a brief moment, you feel a small measure of comfort in Peggy's concern.

As you turn to refill another customer's coffee, Peggy's words linger in your mind. Maybe opening up a bit more wouldn't be such a bad idea. Maybe, just maybe, sharing the burden could help ease the pain of James's absence, even if only a little. But who should you talk to? The only person you were every really close with is gone...

❁ ❁ ❁

Yet another day passes in which you worry yourself tired. The house feels emptier than ever, the silence pressing in on you as you move through the rooms like a ghost. You try to distract yourself with chores and routines, but your thoughts always circle back to James. Wondering if he’s safe or thinking about you.

You sink into the worn armchair by the window, your favorite spot to watch the world outside. But tonight, the familiar view brings no comfort. The sky is a dark canvas, the stars hidden behind thick clouds. You hug your knees to your chest, feeling the loneliness wrap around you like a suffocating blanket as Old Lee’s words echo in your mind once again. 

A quiet sob calls into the empty room - barely audible. And then the tears start falling down your face in constant streams. The memory of his touch, his warmth, his presence, feels like a distant dream. You close your eyes, trying to recall the feeling of James's arms around you, the sound of his heartbeat against yours. It's a comfort and a torment all at once.

You haven’t cried like this since Pietro died... No, actually, you did when the message of Brock’s death reached you. But those were tears of relief rather than pain. 

A sudden chill sweeps through the room, at the memory of the man who tormented your life in more ways than one. You open your eyes, frowning as you notice that it’s not only the thought of Brock making you feel this way. The air seems to crackle with an otherworldly energy. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, and you feel a strange pull, a familiar yet eerie sensation that makes your heart race.

You stand up slowly, your breath hitching in your throat. The room feels alive with a palpable tension, as if the very fabric of reality is shifting. You turn around, your eyes scanning the dimly lit space.

And then you see him.

❁ ❁ ❁

James stands before you, his presence both startling and comforting, he notes as your herts sync again. His eyes meet yours, filled with a mix of relief and sorrow. You look as if you've been through a storm, yet there is a resolute strength in your gaze that anchors him. He probably doesn’t look much better, considering he in fact has been in said storm. But he’d do anything to come back to you. 

"James," you breathe, your voice trembling with emotion. "You're here.”

He steps forward, closing the distance between you. "I’m here," he says softly, his voice carrying the weight of all the unspoken words and unshared moments.

You reach out, your hand trembling as it touches his cheek, as if verifying that he is real and not another figment of your imagination. Your skin is cold and the sensation sends a flood of emotions through him.

"Where have you been?" you ask, your voice cracking with the weight of your worry.

“It is a long story," he replies, his hand covering yours. "But right now, all that matters is that I'm here. With you.”

In that moment, the world outside fades away, and all that exists is the space between you and James. The silence is filled with unspoken promises and the electric charge of a reunion long overdue. 

When you fall into his arms crying, his knees feel like giving out. He has had a long journey behind him, but he would die before showing you weakness when you need him the most. “I thought I would never see you again!” You cry even harder and James wraps his arms around you with loving pressure.

“I’m here,” he tries to soothe you. His wings come around you once again in search for the calmness that washes over him when he realizes you feel safe. 

“I don’t think I can do without you anymore.” Your voice is muffled against his chest but his heart leaps at your confession. Warmth spreads throughout his body as the realization hits that you finally feel close to the emotions he has harbored for you for so long. 

James wants to promise you that he’ll never leave again. He wants to tell you that there is nothing worth losing you. Not the most tempting offer to ever exist. He wants to hold you forever, in fact, do more than just hold you and give into the feeling he has only ever heard about from demons and sinners. 

But he can’t. Because he knows it would not be true. 

His feud with heaven is far from over. And the journey he plans to venture holds great unknown. So, he settles for the one thing he can tell you with certainty. 

“I cannot be without you, either, my beloved. There is so much I want to experience with you but the most important of them all is love. I love you, with my entire soul and heart. I cannot deny you this truth any longer. I have done the unspeakable because of it and you deserve to know.”

You eyes look up at him widely, a question in them that has waited long enough to be asked. “Brock’s death wasn’t an accident,” you whisper, but your posture remains steady. There is no pain or sorrow in your face. Just pure, plain curiosity.

“They told me he was mugged and thrown in the river. But it never made sense to me.” You pull a little out of his touch and James lets you even though his entire body screams to keep you close. “This town is too small to be mugged in. He was killed with a single stab to his heart. A mugger would never be so efficient.”

You gleam at him, seemingly waiting for him to confirm. But James stands in your presence with a sense of pride. He does not regret is transgression, not when it meant keeping you safe - which was and still is his greatest aim. 

“The way he was found was too peaceful to be from a robbery, either.” You tell him shaking your head. “How can you make a murder look so respectful and honest?” 

“I am sorry if I have upset you, dearest-“

“You haven’t. Brock Rumlow was a bad man. It took me a long time to notice, but he was abusing and ill-driven. If anything, I am upset I couldn’t thank you sooner that he is gone.”

“I had played with the though of removing him from the face of the earth for quite some time,” James confesses, feeling all the secret’s weight rolling off him like avalanches. “From the moment he first screamed at you... to the time he laid his hands on you. But I knew you were strong. I was so proud of you for getting up each day and moving on. I would have never acted had he not hurt you in a way even i could feel throught the very bond that ties our souls together. I knew you could handle the hurtful words, even the hurtful touches - that no-one, and especially not you, deserves. Your brother is of similar cunning as myself. But he was brave enough to act while I was fearing the consequences of testing celestial rule once more.” 

James catches the new tears rushing down your cheeks. But he wont stop telling you. He knows you need to hear it. It hurts him to revisit the memory of watching Pietro die in his quest to secure your freedom. “I was trying to honor you brother as much as ensure your safety when I... killed Brock.” He clears his throat and takes your hands in his. “He would have continued to hurt every person he encountered. I do not regret what I did.”

“Oh, James.” Your hands reach up to his face. James bows down to follow the tug you apply to his jaw. “Thank you for telling me. I am not angry. And despite what the other angels said, I know you are a good person. I love you, too.” 

You smile as James’s hands cover yours on his face. Your foreheads are touching and the room around you fades into nothingness. In this moment in time, there are just you and him, and all the new feeling bubbling inside him that he his eager to explore. 

He’s known it for long, but now he is certain than going back to heaven was never an option. Not when you are still here. 

“I would love to kiss you right now,” you whisper in the space between you, igniting a heat within James he has never felt before.

“I would like that very much,” he confesses and as soon as the words leave his lips, yours are firmly pressed against his. 

The sensation is overwhelming. Your lips are soft and warm, moving against his in a way that sends shivers down his spine. His hands still press yours to his skin, unsure what to do and overwhelmed with the experience opened to him. You gently take them and move then to your waist, then a little lower, making him trace the curve of your body as your tongue slowly slips between his lips. The contact sends a surge of electricity through him, making his heart race.

The kiss is tentative at first, each of you exploring this new and wondrous connection. Your fingers weave into his hair, anchoring yourself to him as if afraid he might vanish with this daring protest against heaven. He can feel the gentle tremor in your touch, the same mixture of awe and desire that he feels within himself.

You pull back slightly, just enough to look into his eyes. Your breath mingles with his, cheeks heated and lips swollen. “Move your hands, James,” you whisper, guiding his hands to slide even lower on your body, teaching him how to hold you close, even though he thought he has always done so right. This is different. This is more.

He follows your lead, fingers trembling with the intensity of the moment as they squeeze flesh, eliciting a soft whimper from you that makes James’s insides stir. Or maybe it is not his insides after all, he notices when his pants feel tighter all of a sudden. 

Each brush of your lips against his, each caress, speaks of the longing and love that has been building between you for so long. James deepens the kiss, more confident now, feeling the warmth of your body against his, and it’s as if the world outside has ceased to exist.

Your thumb brushes over his cheek, and you smile, voice breathless. “You’re doing great.”

The kiss becomes more fervent, your guidance helping James navigate this new territory. He feels like he’s pouring all his love and devotion into this one act, wanting to convey everything he’s never been able to say. His wings reach round you tentatively, leaving enough air for you to breathe. He want’s to be wrapped up in you more - he cannot explain it.

James pulls back slightly, his breath coming in shallow gasps. “This... this is incredible,” he murmurs in a voice husky with wonder. “I’ve never felt anything like this before.”

You smile, eyes sparkling. “Neither have I.”

Your lips find each other again, more urgent this time, as if you’re making up for lost time - at least James is. The demon who lured him down the first time failed to mention this part of humanity to him.

“I want to show you more,” you finally whisper against his skin and at this point, James is willing to walk the sun if you asked him to. 

“Everything,” he rasps, his lips touching you with every syllable. He cannot get enough of your taste. “Show it all to me, my love.”

“I want to start with taking off our clothes.” You kiss him again, making Jame’s pants feel even tighter. He knows about sex and he knows it is what you are hinting at. But he has never experienced it. It is no use to angels, since they cannot impregnate another. In heaven, it is rarely talked about - and if it is, one is warned about it. 

Right now, James does not care why. He is eager to experience as much as there is on earth with you and then some. So, he lets you guide his hands over your shoulders, shrugging your cardigan off your body and letting his fingers glide beneath the thin straps adorning your shoulders now. 

His hands are so big compared to yours. He marvels in the fact of how much stronger he is, making him able to protect you that much better. 

James has no difficulty guiding the clothes from your body. Nakedness is something barely acknowledged where he comes from. But today... something about it feels different. This situation feels so much more intimate than it usually does. And he notices, when you kneel down to pull his pants down, his cock stands proud from his body, bigger than usual, and hard and- “Oh!” sensitive, he notes when your lips kiss his hip, your face slightly grazing his member in the action. 

With your head next to it, it looks disproportionately huge, but you don’t seem to mind. 

“This... I have never done this before.” James’s hands guide you back up to him. He is certain his cheeks are glowing red by now. He feels hot and bothered, yet so yearning for more of the teasing your face provided for mere seconds before. 

“Are you okay with continuing?” Your eyes find his again. 

“Yes.”

“Okay, good.” And when he nods, you take his hand and lead him down the hall to your bedroom. 

He has missed this place, missed holding you for the time he went away, but he can't tell you where he has been just yet. Not now, anyway. Right now, he wants to experience whatever you are willing to show him. 

You walk around him, touching him all over, watching him react and making him lean down only to pull back before his lips can get a taste of yours again. It’s beautiful agony and James is torn between pulling you into his strong grip and letting you wind him up until his balls feel like they are the ones squeezed tightly. They already are...

Eventually, you come to a stop behind him. He jolts when you fingers drive over the top of his wings, only for you to mumble a quick ‘sorry’ and coming back around in front of him. 

“Don’t be sorry. I was just not expecting it.”

You stare past him and at the white feathers protruding from his back. “They are so soft... and pretty.” You find his eyes. “All of you is pretty.”

He reaches for your face, finding pride in the way you nestle into his palm with a smile. “And dear, you are the most beautiful being the world has ever seen.”

“Can I touch them again?” You whisper only for James to now stare in awe. 

He watches as your hands pass his body in slow-motion. They travel past his ribs and reach carefully towards his wings again. This time, he is prepared, though his stomach feels tight with something opposite of worry. More of a physical feeling he can't begin to explain. He closes his eyes and lets your touch travel over them like a prayer. Your path leaves shivers in its wake and James lets his head hang, reveling in the feeling. He opens his eyes and watches his cock twitch whenever the tingles get too much. 

He gasps breathlessly when you graze the underside of his wings, making his whole body jump slightly. 

“Oh, are those sensitive?” You smile in awe, though your expression turns to excitement when he wheezes out his answer. 

“Very.”

“Do you like it?” 

Your fingers glide over the same spot again, making his cock leak, feeling like he’s about to explode. “Yes!” He grabs the sideboard next to him.

“I want to make you feel good, James” your voice is damp agains this ear and he bites his tongue before bursting. 

“You already do.” 

“I want to make it even better.”

James is not sure he can handle better. He’s already floating miles above the ground when you touch him in the ways you do. Maybe he has to distract himself to enjoy this some more. 

He could think about why heaven would withhold education of how amazing sex can be. That will make him calm a little, posting yet another reason why it was never the place to be for him. 

Your hands wrap around his silver wrists as you guide him to the bed, pushing down on his shoulders until he is sat on the mattress, looking up at you with intrigue and awe. 

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to ride you, James.” You straddle his lap and his arms immediately reach around you. 

“Ride ...me? I’m not a horse.” He states and watches as your smile lights up. But it settles a weary feeling in his stomach. There is a hint of mischief in your glint, and James is not sure he can handle it right now. 

“Do you trust me?”

“With my entire soul.”

You kiss him and push at his chest. “The lie back for me.”

And so he does, realizing - once again - that anything heaven could offer him pales in comparison to the love he feels for you, a love that knows no bounds or logic and that is reciprocated in your every touch. 

James watches as you scoot up his body until you are sat right behind his cock, which has not ceased to soften one bit since you kissed. It reaches all the way to your navel. But before he can take in the sight and calculate the size difference between you, you press him against your stomach, pulling another moan from his lunges. 

His tip is leaking more and more with every touch you gift him and James starts to worry his body will give out before he can make you feel good. 

“You’re so big, so pretty.” You stroke him from base to top, letting your thumb press into the underside of his cock and send shiver after shiver through James’s body. “I need you inside me.”

“I need that to.” His voice is strangled when you lift up and grind his tip through your wet folds, moaning with the friction he can only assume is the same for you as it is for him. 

In a swift motion, the head of his cock sinks inside you, breaching tight muscle and making him feel dizzy with the new sensation. Your head falls back with a loud breath that makes his abs tighten. This whole time, he feels as though a gust of wind could make him unravel, but something inside him tells James he should hold out - or at least try to. 

The raspy sounds escaping his throat cant seem to stop when you slowly work yourself all the way down his shaft. And the high-pitched scream you set free when his tip reaches another barrier within you makes him twitch and leak even more. 

“Are you alright?” He asks through sweaty brows. 

“I’m amazing.” You smile and lift yourself up only to sink back down into his lap. Your movements become steady, and when he finally gets over the way your mouth hangs slack, the rhythm you set builds even more pressure inside him. 

The room is filled with messy sounds of skin and sweat and moans and heavy breaths. You sink down on him again and again until James feels like he is on fire. But you don’t relent. Your pace never falters when you fall back and your hands grip his thighs, digging into his muscles until his toes curl. 

It’s too much at once and not enough at the same time. James feels as though there is a cliff he could fall over every second now, but he’s too scared to loose the sensations he is experiencing right now to let his body do so. 

“Touch me,” you suddenly say, taking his hands which have fisted inside your duvet until now and placing them on the soft flesh of your breasts. Only now, your nipples are hardened when you guide his fingers over them. “Like this.” You’re somehow fare gone and right there with him. But he does as he his told again, flicking his thumb over the pebbled flesh until your moans grow higher and higher. “Ah, Yes!”

It’s doing something to him, he his twitching every time your pussy squeezes him in tandem with his thumb on your nipples. His body is moving without the permission of his mind when he suddenly thrusts up. And then again. And again. Until you are mewling and crying on top of him, your fingernails digging into his legs painfully hard. 

James immediately drops his hands only to watch you stare at him with wide eyes. 

“What’s the matter. Why did you stop?”

He bites his lips in shame when he realizes he misses your constant movement on his cock. “Am I hurting you?”

You eyes possibly widen further. Leaning forward and capturing his cheeks with both lips and hands, you shake your head after you pull away. “No! No, its a good thing, love. You feel so good. You...” Your expression changes to a rather shy one. “You’re just very big. You should be proud.”

Something inside James clicks as you confess with another kiss to his lips. A smirk spreads beneath them when he curiously thrusts up inside you and experiences your hot breath gains his face. 

In a second, his hands grab onto your hips, his body turns and flips the pair of you until your back hits the mattress as gently as he can offer in his compromised position. 

A last look of reassurance when your eyes lock with his set off the urges he has suppressed so far. His hips snap forward over and over again, your pussy tightening more around him with every push. Your hands are fist into the covers, head thrown back and mouth open. There is no more sound coming from you at this point. And James understands why. He is as overwhelmed with the feeling as you look. When you grow even tighter, gripping this cock until he cannot move anymore, white pleasure as hot as hellfire rushes through his body, kissing his nerves from head to toe. He feels his balls empty as he paints your inside with his spent, only being able to lazily rut into you after a minute to seize every last drop of pleasure this moment has to offer. 

Then he falls forward as if a higher force has taken all the strength from his body, though careful not to hurt you when his weight settles on top of you. 

“What-“ he needs to catch his breath first. “What was that?”

“That,” you open your eyes, chest having with every deep breath, “was an orgasm.” Your hands brush through his hair and James finds himself purring at the touch. “And it was the best one I’ve ever had.” 

You kiss him and chuckle when he looks at you questioningly. “I guess you could say it was outer-worldly... or even heavenly.” 

James rolls his eyes but can’t stop the laugh from slipping his lunges. He pulls back and watches as his softened cock leaves your pussy, only to be followed by your mixed arousal dripping out of you. 

Trance-like, his hand moves to collect the fluid and begins to smear it over your petals, up into the soft tuft above it. He knows angels cannot impregnate other beings, but he is fascinated by the scene in front of him. It’s like a little testimony when he marks you all around the best place he has ever experienced, wordlessly rubbing and enjoying the whimpering sounds you make when he flicks over a particular spot. 

“Is this sensitive?” He teases with a smirk only to be met with a playful smack on his arm. 

“Very.” you say. “But I am entirely satisfied as of right now.”

James sighs and falls into the sheets beside you. “Me too.” He nuzzles into your neck and pulls you closer to his body. He does not care that you are sticky with sweat or that neither of you are cleaned up. He just needs to hold you now that reality has taken its place back around him again. 

“So, you have been watching over me for - what? All my life?”

James hides the chuckle bubbling up his throat at your sudden question. He still has his eyes closed, taking in the feeling of your nails lightly scratching up and down his forearms. It makes him tingly. 

“All your life, yes.”

“And have you ever meddled with other things that were supposed to happen to me?”

“Do you remember the year in which you kept finding pineapples in arbitrary places?”

It’s silent for a moment, but your movements don’t falter. “I always thought that was a weird coincidence.”

James smiles into the crook of your neck. “Consider it my way of adding a little excitement to your life. And maybe a small attempt to make you notice me.”

You push yourself up slightly and rest on your elbows as you look at James. “I like you like this.” You smile.

“Like what?” He’s smiling as well.”

“Less angel, more...” Your hand comes up to gesture at nothing in particular. “...deviant.”

The smile on James’s face turns into a proud grin before he leans up to kiss you tenderly, savoring the moment and pushing away the thought that has been gnawing on him ever since he came back. 

He holds you until you fall asleep, purposefully missing the opportunity to tell you what he has gotten himself into while he was away.

❁ ❁ ❁

James stands in the garden, the sky overcast and heavy with the promise of rain. He’s out here to retrieve a bouquet of your favorite flowers, smiling like a fool because he finally has what he always wished for. All his mishaps and seem worth it when he holds you in his arms at night. 

The flowers are vibrant and alive, and he bends to pick them with a sense of purpose, each blossom a token of his affection. Even as the first raindrops start to fall, his joy is undiminished. The rain doesn’t bother him; it’s a minor inconvenience compared to the happiness he’s found with you. 

As he moves through the garden, he thinks of the moments you’ve shared—the way your eyes light up when you see him, the warmth of your touch, the sound of your laughter, the way you writhe beneath him in she sheets. For the first time in his existence, he feels complete. 

James clutches the bouquet and heads back toward the house, eager to see the surprise on your face when he presents you with the flowers.

But before he can pass the threshold, an eery feeling spreads though is soul, a shadow falls over him but vanishes just as soon. He scans the yard, his sight nestling through the trees at the very edge of it and then suddenly halting when he sees Wanda leaning against one at the very far corner of your property. Her presence is like a dark cloud on the horizon, a stark contrast to the bright joy he feels. Her red eyes glint with a knowing look, and her lips curl into a smirk that sends a chill down his spine.

“Are you not coming inside, James? The weather will only get worse.” You shout through the house only to appear behind him to inspect what is keeping him outside. 

But James’s stare is fixated on the demon in your yard, his protective instincts setting in immediately, scanning his surroundings while keeping a close eye on Wanda. 

“What is going on?” You ask and reach your arms around him from the side. He can sense you’re eyeing him but he knows you see what he is seeing when your entire body grows rigid beside him. 

“Who is that?” you whisper into James’s shoulder as you step even closer to him, your voice barely audible over the increasing patter of rain. He squeezes you a little tighter, trying to shield you from the inevitable storm brewing. A quick look at your state tells him he should have send you inside. But It is too late for that now. 

When his head turns back into the direction of the demon, it is no longer in its prior place. Instead, Wanda has moved across the garden with impeccable speed, looking up at the pair of you a few feet alway from the step leading to your porch. 

“You promised me time to explore the likes of this life.” His voice is low and intimidating, though he knows its futile in the face of a demon. They are scared of very little. 

“And explored you have,” her red hair falls over her shoulder when her head ticks to the side. “Tell me, Bucharius, is it worth the cost?”

The demon knows of the leverage it has on him. James was sure he would follow through with his request from the start. But he forgot, or maybe just hoped, the devil’s spawn would gift him more time until he had to go and seal the contract. 

“You know it is,” he pushes though clenched teeth, hating how your fingers clamp around his arm already. 

“Actually, I don’t. But I would be an idiot to refuse an offer such as yours.” Wanda clasps her long fingers together and grins with evil. “Oh, I will have so much fun with your soul once the time comes.”

The angel closes his eyes tightly, hating the way the demon pressures him to leave so soon. But it is for the greater good, for him at least. He need’s to be selfish for once - to be able to spend a lifetime providing whatever you desire. 

“Just give me a moment, Wanda,” James says, his voice steady despite the chaos inside his head. He knows his flicker of happiness is about to be shattered, but he wants to hold onto it for just a little longer.

“What is happening? What does she want?” There are tears brimming in your eyes and James decides he has seen them far too many times to be a good guardian to you. It just secures his decision to do what Wanda came to collect him for. 

James presses his lips to the crown of your head before gently tilting it upward with his fingers. His gaze is steady, exuding a confidence while you desperately cling to him in your confusion.

“I’m not sure I can handle all this newfound angelic drama,” you mutter with unease, and James kisses you—short and sweet, a fleeting moment of peace.

Then he whispers against your lips, “Please, you handle drama like a queen. Remember that time you dealt with Valentina from accounting?” His attempt at humor brings a small smile to your face, and he momentarily loses himself in the warmth and security it provides.

But the feeling doesn’t last long.

“James has made a deal with the devil,” Wanda grins, her red eyes flashing with malevolent glee.

Her words send shivers over your body, James feels the ripples pass beneath his fingertips. You pull away from your guardian angel, whose troubles have now escalated to an unthinkable level. 

“What does she mean, James?”

❁ ❁ ❁

James’s silence is deafening. You pray, you beg, for this to be a terrible joke, but deep down, you know it’s not.

“James.” Your words are strained, desperate for answers, desperate for reassurance. “What is she talking about?”

“It is true,” James finally admits, his eyes free of sorrow but filled with determination. “I have made a deal with Lucifer. My wings for a mortal life. My soul when it leaves my deceased body after spending a lifetime with you.”

“What?” The word is a whisper, your mind struggling to process the gravity of his confession. Because your cheeks feel salty and stained before you realize what James has just told you. “Why are you doing this?” you ask through your tears.

“Because I’d give up heaven if it meant being with you.” James’s eyes burn into yours, the rain dripping off his wet face deceivingly. His voice is steady, unwavering. “I’d go to hell a thousand times over until my soul burns to ashes if it meant I get to hold you one more time. You’re everything to me. Everything.”

Another wave of shivers slip over your skin with the way he presses the last word. His eyes are fiery, almost desperate. He is trying to make you understand how much better this decision is, but you fail to see how it can. “You can’t do this. You are destined for more. There are many more to come after me that need protecting and watching over.”

“And there have been plenty before you, yet none of them have or will ever compare, my love.” He touches your cheek, but you push his hand away. Your heart is already aching when you watch his face fall at the gesture. But you are not made for these types of dilemmas. You are human for fuck’s sake. “I would spend eternity regretting not experiencing life with you. I am tired of watching; I am over feeling the distance between us. Going back to heaven means finding you someone else to love. And I cannot do that. It would destroy me, burn me alive, rip my heart out of my chest.”

“James, think about this.” Now the first angry tear slips from his face and mixes with he rain which has grown heavier. Dark clouds cast over the scene, matching the mood perfectly. Dreary and sad - how poetic. 

“I have. For far too long. I will never feel truly fulfilled until I can be what you need me to be: a real, tangible person that grows old with you.”

You shake your head, your hair sticking to your skin. “You have to believe me when I tell you that I exist only for you. My life was dull before you entered it, and it will feel like a black hole when you leave. There is nothing—nothing—I wouldn’t do to be with you.”

Never before have words felt more genuine than this. James is hunched forward, his eyes pleading at you from above. A sneaky hand has captured yours and presses it to his chest, where his heart is beating vigorously against your skin. 

Resignation laces your voice when you finally answer him. “So you’re just going to leave now? For how long? What if he tricked you?”

You don’t know  much about all the rules but one thing is for sure, the devil likes to play and deceive. Just the thought of James walking into a trap makes your stomach churn. 

“Then it was worth it.” There is something akin to content and fulfillment in Jame’s stare when his hand squeezes yours and his heartbeat slows. Though your’s seems to do the opposite. 

“No.” You say breathlessly. 

“I’m sorry," he answers, and wraps your fingers around the bouquet in his hands.

“James.”

“I love you.”

“James.”

The rain intensifies, pounding the earth as if mirroring the turmoil in your heart. James turns and lets Wanda put him in chains, leading him away. You fall to your knees, crying, the three words you have yet to say hanging on your lips for nobody to hear. He’s gone. He’s gone without the knowledge of ever seeing you again.

❁ ❁ ❁

And just like that it ends like it began: in tragedy… and rain.

❁ ❁ ❁

Maybe you are just not cut out for happiness, you think as you wipe down the counter with a frown. The sun is shining today, almost mocking your bad mood with every chirping of birds outside. Earlier today, you were so angry about the reflection blinding you inside that you shut the blinds completely. 

James has been gone for a week now and you already feel like breaking down over what you’ve lost whenever something is mentioned that reminds you of him. 

A few days ago, after a really rough night, you swore you’d never let anyone this close to you. It’s the perfect start for you villain origin story, really. Losing your brother to an abusive ex. Losing said abusive ex thanks to a protective angel. Then falling in love with the angel only for him to go to hell for loving you back. 

You heart cannot take another hit. It’s constantly breaking as you think about the torture and pain James is probably suffering in the pits of hell. There is just no more room for another person, another worry, or anything else, really. 

You will just die an old and groggy lady, likely still cleaning this very counter until you cant anymore. The whole town is going to know you as the weird woman with seventy two cats.

You shake at the thought of it, disposing of your towel and grabbings some plates from the counter to clean up some more.

“New customer is yours, freaking weirdo has been standing outside the window and looking inside like some kind of stalker,” Scott mumbles as he paces by you with his head buried in his phone screen. 

You just sigh and throw a used napkin into the trash before loading the dirty plates onto a kitchen tray. 

“I’d like a sandwich, please.” A voice sounds from behind you and your entire body goes rigid.

It can’t be. It cant. For days you have been wishing for James to come back, now you are finally becoming crazy. 

But your heart picks up its familiar sprint and your entire body tingles with hope. Still, you don’t dare to turn around. 

“Are you not going to look at me, dearest?”

Your hands tremble as you grip the edge of the counter. What if it’s real? What if it’s not? The uncertainty gnaws at you, each second stretching into an eternity. You’ve dreamed of this moment, but dreams are fickle things, easily shattered by the harsh light of reality.

“James...” The name slips out in a whisper, a plea, a hope. Tears sting your eyes, and you squeeze them shut, bracing yourself for the worst.

You take a deep breath and finally turn around. Truly, there he stands in front of you, with a bright and gleaming grin on his lips. There is one thing you notice immediately: the silver cuffs on his arms are gone. And he looks oddly free without them.

Almost trance-like, you round the counter, your had reaches out to him, touching his jaw, gliding down the length of his neck until your fingertips disappear into the soft curls in the back of it. 

“Is it really you?” You whisper in awe as you start to drown in the familiar blue of his eyes. And when James covers your hand with his, squeezing his reassuring sequence to your bones, you know. It’s real. 

“In the ...flesh.” he frowns but then smiles widely. 

“What happened when you were gone?” Your curiosity gets the better of you, but James just shakes his head and then turns his face to kiss the inside of your wrist. 

“Not here, love. Take me home... if you’ll have me. Take me back. I promise no more secrets from now on.”

You just nod vigorously, finally pulling James into your embrace. The worry raging inside you fades into insignificance, eclipsed by the certainty that in this moment, you’ve regained something intently more powerful - a bond that defies explanation, but feels undeniably perfect. 

“I will always choose you over anything else, James.” You nuzzle into his chest as you ravel in the warmth of his body and the security of his touch. His heart is singing the same song as yours and his head hangs low atop yours, pressing meaningful kisses to your hairline between every stroke of his hand on your back. 

The diner around you might as well not exist. All that matters is this connection between you - the bond that defies the boundaries of heaven and earth. 

“But tell me one thing,” you whisper into his shirt and James moves to better hear your low voice. 

“I will tell you anything,” he presses into another kiss on your face, still holding you close. 

“Are you... did the-“ you’re not sure how to assemble the questions inside your mind without being bold. But James seems to know exactly what it is you want to say. 

He takes both his hands from around you and guides your face to his until his warm lips press a meaningful kiss to yours. “Yes,” he murmurs softly, yet steadily, conveying just enough seriousness to let you know how important and truthful his answer is. “I did what I promised. I am yours until the end of my life, and even beyond, my soul will be seeking yours for eternity. But until then, we will grow old together and finally be what we were meant to.”

His lips latch onto yours a second time and as the kiss deepens, a sense of completeness washes over you. In James’s arms, you find the solace and passion you have been yearning for, a promise of love that transcends all else. 

“I can’t begin to tell you how much it means to me.” You smile back between kisses.

James pulls you even closer, his voice a gentle murmur against your lips. “We have a lifetime to show each other.”

And in that moment, surrounded by the echoes of a bustling diner and the warmth of his embrace, you know that no matter the trials ahead, this love will endure, defying all boundaries and transcending every limit. 

❁ ❁ ❁

Because at last, there’s noting more freeing than falling itself.

Lord, can we take a second and appreciate these images???!! Got me on my knees - and not for praying, I'll tell you this much...

Hello, loves. As always, thank you so much for taking the time to read my work. I hope you had fun! Maybe... juuuust maybe if you want to, you could leave a comment or reblog on this post. New fics will be on hiatus until August, I have some real life work to finish. But please feel free to interact and talk to me. I love hearing from you! Take care, and ill talk to you as soon as I can. ~Meg 💗

Wanna be added to the taglist?

@circe143 @valkyrie418 @mirikusashes @noideawhyimdoingthislol @nikkitc0703 @lethallyprotected @erynnnn @misshale21 @wattpaduser200 @buckyseddie @adoreyouusugar @km-ffluv @mcu21lover19 @pigeonmama @wilsons-striped-ties @caplanbuckybarnes @rosecentury @somnorvos @almosttoopizza @sociallyimpairedme @royalwritersoftheuniverses @i-l-y-3000 @mrsgweasley @prettylittlepluviophile @dinwifey @stuckysgirl27 @wintermischief @supersecretblogformytreasures @broadwaybabe18 @fridayiaminlove @buckybarnessimpp @goodkittyspost @justafangir1 @simpxinnie @bisexual-buckyfan @blackhawkfanatic @augustbucky @kandis-mom @harleycao @ashhsage @hhiggs @scott-loki-barnes @gabshouse @i-spy-1812 @barnes1031 @am-3-thyst @awkotaco24 @star-buck-barnes @armystay89 @missaprilt23 @rexit-mo @mishkatelwarriorgoddess

[nervoussagittarius]

do you still have wisdom?

matt sturniolo x reader

summary: in the midst of your wisdom teeth removal, your boyfriend and his brothers become your caregivers, request

warnings: fluffy, language, one suggestive comment, talk of needles and surgery,

the camera started rolling as you lethargically placed yourself in matt’s arms. today was the day you were getting your wisdom teeth removed and it was safe to say you were extremely nervous.

“tell everyone how you’re feeling y/n/n” nick said.

you lifted your head from matt’s chest and you replied, “i feel nervous about being put under anesthesia and i’m just really tired.” you felt matt footing shift slightly as he chucked.

matt moved from holding you to just wrapping his arm around your shoulder. “yeah so y/n didn’t really sleep last night, but you’ll have all the time to sleep tonight, okay?” you looked up at him and nodded with a small smile.

“so we’re going to go to the dentist and we’ll see you guys there.”

about an hour went by before you were sat in the chair, laying back, getting ready to receive your iv. you were not excited. you didn’t have a big fear of needles, you could tolerate them. it was the idea of the needle being in your arm for a long amount of time.

the three boys stood around you in a comforting manner. nick and matt stood to your right. nick filming while matt held your hand and soothingly ran his fingers through your hair. chris stood to your left paying attention to what the doctors were telling you guys.

“we’re going to put your iv in and it will give you the anesthesia so you’ll be out shortly after that. we’ll be in and out for the next couple minutes to see how you’re doing.” your doctor said as he started prepping your arm for the needle. you turned your head towards matt as he made goofy faces at you as a distraction.

“thank you.” you guys all stated as the doctor left your room. your eyes almost instantly started to become heavy and you felt sleep begin to take over.

the drowsiness became more prominent as the boys started to make jokes. “y/n, what kind of cup doesn’t hold liquid?” chris asked laughing. your eyes fluttered shut as you held a finger to your lips to shush him. “a cupcake.” chris finished making nobody laugh but himself.

you reached your arm up over your shoulder to gets matt’s attention. you blindly hit him and he looked down at you. “what’s up, love?” he asked.

“please ask chris to stop making jokes. i can’t focus on him right now.”

chris gave you an offended face as nick and matt broke out into a laughter. “you heard her chris, stop talking.” nick said almost in tears from laughing.

the doctor came back in just as you fell fully asleep. “okay y/n, we’re going to test your memory later. your password is grape.” you deliriously nodded in agreement. matt stayed by your side rubbing your shoulder for as long as he could before ultimately getting kicked out of the room.

the three boys stood in the hallway half focused on eachother and half focused on you. “how are you feeling matt?” chris asked, patting him on the shoulder and coming around to stand next to him. “i feel okay. i know how much pain she’s been in so i’m glad we’re getting that taken care of. i’m happy we’re all here to support her.”

the camera panned to you in the chair just as you started to lift your head slightly. you quickly side eyed the doctors as they readjusted you to leaning back.

a short time passed before all four of your wisdom teeth were extracted and your three best friends were allowed back in your room.

“how are you feeling y/n/n?” chris asked.

your were still a bit out of it and the gauze in your mouth slurred your words. “i’m cold.” was all that you got out. you were feeling emotional so when the three boys all looked at each other because they forgot your jacket in the car tears started to brim your eyes.

“awe sweetheart don’t cry we’ll figure it out. here you can have my long sleeve.” once you realized matt was next to you it was like your heart did a one eighty. “oh hi matt! i missed you!” you exclaimed lovingly as your words blended together.

“i appreciate the offer but i can’t put the shirt over my iv.” you said with a tiny frown. almost instantly chris started removing his zip-up and draped it over you. “hey! thanks chris.” you gave him a loopy smile.

“hey y/n, do you remember your password?” your doctor asked as he came back into the room to type on the computer. you instantly gave him, and the three brothers around you, a very confused look. “like for my phone?” you were extremely confused at this point and you couldn’t get much out of the three boys who were laughing their asses off. your doctor took over trying to explain. “we gave you a password that you were supposed to remember. do you?” you shook your head at him. “that’s okay we’re going to give you another on and if you remember then you can leave and go home. your password is ocean.”

“ocean, got it”

you thought for a second before speaking up again. “hey doc, how long until i can suck dick again?” nick and chris had officially lost it at this point. cracking up at the fact that you had no idea that your exposing all of your and matt’s secrets. matt only blushed and tried not to smile when you smiled up at him and grabbed his hand in yours. you tried to wink at him but it came out more as a delayed blink.

the doctor didn’t look shocked at all. you figured he’d been used to receiving this question. “you have to wait until your incisions heal. so a couple weeks.” and with that the doctor left the room again.

you looked at matt with a sorrowful face. “sorry matt.” you remorsefully said. trying to change the subject matt spoke up, “what’s the password, sweetheart?” you looked at him lovingly. “you’re pretty.” you said reaching you hand up to rest on his cheek.

“thanks baby.”

“hey, between me and nick whose your favorite?” asked chris as he poked your shoulder in an annoying but excited manner. you looked at him, then at nick, and then back to matt. you looked straight into the camera nick was holding before firmly stating, “i don’t have favorites.” chris rolled his eyes at you.

“and if i did have a favorite it would be matt, duh.” hearing this matt leaned down to kiss your forehead.

“y/n, what’s your password to go home.”

“um? lake?”

“ohhhh so close. it is a body of water. it was ocean.” chris cooed at you as he rubbed your shoulder.

“your new one is sushi.” “oh i love sushi.”

you reached up to rub your eyes forgetting that your were still connected to a couple of wires. “ow you mother fucker.” you commented looking down at you arms. “please kiss it.” you said lifting your arm up to chris since he was closest to your iv.

“listen kid, i love ya but i’m not kissing your arm.”

“that’s so fucked up. i’d do it for you.” you complained. hesitantly, chris leaned down to place the lightest peck possible to your arm. “thank you. matt, i love you” you quickly changed the subject. he was caught off guard at your sudden outburst. “i love you too, y/n”

“nick, chris, i love you guys too.” “we love you y/n.” “love ya y/n/n.”

the doctor made his way back to the room to see that your medicine was all injected through your veins. and started to take your iv out. “do you remember the password to go home, y/n?”

“yep it’s sushi.” you said as you kept your eyes on matt to avoid noticing the needle coming out of your arm. he ran his hand up and down your arm to comfort you. “that’s right.” nick said patting your leg to congratulate you on remembering.

the doctor got a wheelchair to take you to the car. when you made it to the parking garage matt helped you into the passenger seat and gently kissed your cheek letting you know he had to go get the parking pass.

you leaned back in your chair and sighed contently. “i just love him so much. he’s so perfect and babygirl.” nick and chris laughed as matt came back to the car.

you held your teeth to the camera showing them the container. “i have to put my teeth under my pillow so the tooth fairy brings me money.”

“you’re bloody teeth are not going anywhere near my bed.” “our bed.”

the video ended shortly after that with you grabbing matt’s hand and telling the viewers to enjoy the video while you enjoyed the dominic fike album chris put on for you.

comments:

i love how flirty y/n is in anesthesia

matt was so boyf in this video

y/n is right matt is babygirl

chris is such a little brother it’s unreal

nick is really giving us the content we need

an: this is all i’ve been thinking about for the past day. also i started a tag list so go comment on it if you want added 🤍

taglist: @norr1ssturni0lo @recklessmatt

tags for this post: @thetriplets3 @mazzystar111

[clockwayswrites]

City Pigeons Bleed Green Part 19

(I know I'm tech on a break this week, but I could use the serotonin.) masterpost

“He understands that I am coming over?” Damian asked as he inspected his pencil case to make sure he had everything he needed. Father would be picking him up from art class to fetch lunch.

“Yep, Danny knows we’re bringing lunch over,” Grayson answered. His thumb swiped idly across his phone.

Damian took a slow breath in through his nose and out through his mouth. He loved Grayson, but it did not mean that the other was not an idiot sometimes. Sometimes family meant loving someone even though they were an idiot, Damian reminded himself.

In an attempt to start again, Damian stayed silent until he was sure that he had all of his supplies in his messenger bag. “I meant, does Danny understand that it is specifically me bringing the food? Does Danny understand who I am?”

“Oh, Dami baby, yeah,” Grayson said, voice softening in a way that made Damian bristle. At least Grayson finally set his phone down. “Jay talked to him about it and is still there at the apartment with Danny now. I’ll over over to give Jason a break and be there when you and Bruce come. Do you want me to double check with Danny before you arrive?”

Damian frowned as he adjusted the strap on his bag.

“Yes,” Damian answered after a pause and when he could meet Grayson’s eyes confidently. “I believe that the redundancy would not go amiss.”

“Okay, yeah, I’ll be sure to double check before you and Bruce get there.”

“Acceptable,” Damian said and let to find Pennyworth for his ride to class.

Doing art calmed him. That knowledge had been a surprise at first. While Damian had, of course, learned about art as part of his cultural and historical training, actually being able to engage in art was was something entirely knew. Something that was available to Damian only because of his Father’s allowance.

No, that was not quite right. Father didn’t allow Damian to do art, Father simply wanted them to be happy and art is what made Damian… perhaps not happy, but at least more at peace.

Peace had been such a rare thing in Damian’s life.

He still didn’t quite know what to do with it.

Annoyingly, class that day didn’t quite manage to tamper the churning in Damian’s gut. He could (and would) ignore the feeling, of course, but that did not mean it wasn’t there.

Or that it didn’t grow as Damian was waiting for Father to pick him up for class.

“You have put in the order we discussed?” Damian asked as he buckled his seatbelt.

“Yes, it should be ready shortly after we get there,” Father answered. “You were out quickly today.”

“Tch,” Damian looked away from his father’s searching gaze and focused on the world outside the window. He hated to have tells, but in a family of detectives it was impossible not to. “If it unlikely to be ready, perhaps we should stop by the Turkish bakery that is near. Surely there are items there that are not too sweet for his diet.”

“That’s a nice idea,” Father agreed with a thoughtful hum. “He may have never had them before so we can get a little selection of what you think he needs to try.”

Damian worked not to physically freeze. That felt suddenly like a great deal of responsibility. Which was silly, it was simply food.

“That is a sound idea,” Damian said instead of trying to face his sudden worry.

It was even more overwhelming in the face of all the options. Damian certainly spent far too long making a selection, but Father doesn’t rush him, so Damian tries to allow himself the time. The food is easily acquired after. Far too quickly that they were in front of the safehouse door. Father rested one hand on the back of Damian’s back, a bracing presence, before he knocked.

“Coming!” Grayson called needlessly through the door a few moments before he it swung open. “Hey guys, come in. It’s all good.”

Damian resisted the urge to nod to that, took a breath, and crossed the threshold.

Danny sat on the couch. The fabled day saving blue bear was clutched in the boy’s lap; clutched too tightly. Damian shot Grayson an accusatory look. Clearly it wasn’t ‘all good’.

Grayson rolled his eyes and took the box of sweets from Damian to take to the kitchen with Father.

Damian was left alone with Danny.

At least it gave Damian time to properly study the other boy. Not blood son. Clone. Better and worse at once— a copy of Father. It was clear how much Danny looked like Bruce, a redundant thought now that they knew Danny was a clone, but it crossed Damian’s mind all the same. It was odd to see the still slightly sunken cheeks and too prominent collar bones on someone that looked so much like Father, so much more like Father than Damian did.

Idly, Damian wondered if Danny would ever reach Father’s stature, what with his past. Damian himself had started to grown into wild shoulders and broad chest that would someday be his body over the last year, but Danny had not.

Danny, at least a year older, was still far too slight.

But older.

The oldest blood.

Would he try to take Damian’s place now? It would only be just, with how poorly Damian had behaved when he first arrived, especially to Drake. And Damian’s brash attacks, Danny would have the right to his. He was oldest…

“Are… are you alright?”

Damian’s head snapped up at Danny’s words. When had he lost his focus?

“I do not know,” Damian said, too honest words tumbling across his tongue without his permission.

He didn’t know.

[reidmarieprentiss]

Moving Forward

Summary: Spencer's insecurities manifest themselves in a nasty way, leading to the demise of your relationship. Can he fix it?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: angst, fluff

Warnings/Includes: time jumps, flashbacks, fighting, crying, arguing, mistrust in partner, gaslighting, break up, happy ending, use of Y/N

Word count: 7.5k

a/n: spencer reid is not a bad man !! but he is still just a man

main masterlist

Present

Derek's brow furrowed as he nudged Spencer with his elbow, his eyes fixated on the scene unfolding before them. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, pretty boy," Derek said, his voice laced with concern and disbelief. "Isn't that your girlfriend?"

Spencer's gaze followed Derek's, landing on you. There you were, seated at a cozy table in the dimly lit restaurant, your laughter ringing out as you leaned closer to the person across from you. The person who was most definitely not Spencer. His heart tightened in his chest as he watched you, the familiarity of your smile now directed at someone else, someone who wasn’t him.

"Not anymore," Spencer replied, his voice flat, though a subtle tremor betrayed the emotions he was fighting to keep under wraps. He forced himself to look away, focusing on a random spot on the wall instead of the painful image of you with someone new.

Derek shot him a sideways glance, his brow still creased with confusion. "What? I thought you two were solid?" His tone was cautious, as if he was treading on fragile ground.

Emily, who had been silent up until now, leaned in, her eyes filled with a mix of surprise and sympathy. "The operative word there being ‘were’?" she asked gently, seeking confirmation.

Spencer gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. "Yeah," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Things changed."

For a moment, there was a heavy silence between them, the weight of the situation sinking in. Derek and Emily exchanged a look, both of them unsure of how to respond. They had seen Spencer go through so much, and this seemed like another cruel twist of fate.

Finally, Derek let out a sigh, clapping a reassuring hand on Spencer's shoulder. "You know we're here for you, right? Whatever you need, man."

Emily nodded in agreement, her eyes soft with understanding. "You don’t have to go through this alone, Spencer. We’re your family."

Spencer offered them a small, appreciative smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Thanks," he said quietly, his gaze once again drifting to where you sat, laughing and unaware of the turmoil just a few tables away. 

The sight was like a dagger to his heart, but he forced himself to look away again, determined not to let his emotions get the better of him. He had to be strong, even if it felt like the ground beneath him was crumbling away.

Spencer didn't feel like he deserved the comfort his friends were providing him currently, he was the one who ruined things between the two of you. 

—

Six months ago...

You stood in your small kitchen, the phone pressed to your ear as you listened to the familiar, upbeat tone of Penelope Garcia. "Beautiful tech genius speaking, how may I help you, gorgeous?" she answered, her voice as bright as ever. It was her way of bringing a bit of lightness into every conversation, and usually, it worked. But today, despite the warmth in her greeting, you couldn't shake the tightness in your chest.

"Hey, Pen," you responded, forcing a laugh even though your heart felt like it was being squeezed. The words tasted bitter as you prepared to ask the question you had grown to hate. "Is Spencer busy right now?"

You loathed asking that question. It had become a routine, a ritual almost, to call Penelope and ask about Spencer’s whereabouts because he hadn’t bothered to tell you himself. It was embarrassing, really, that you had to rely on his colleague to know what your own boyfriend was up to. The person he should have been sharing his life with.

There was a slight pause on the other end, and then you heard it—the pity in Penelope's voice that you dreaded so much. "Oh, honey," she said softly, her tone drenched in sympathy. "The team left a few hours ago on a case."

"Oh," you managed to say, but your voice cracked, betraying the tears that were already threatening to spill over. You sniffled, trying to keep it together, but the ache in your chest only grew sharper. "Can you tell me where they went?"

"Yeah, sweetie, they’re in Kansas," Penelope replied gently, and you could almost feel her reaching out to hug you through the phone.

"Thanks, Pen," you whispered, your throat tight as you fought to keep the tears at bay.

"Of course, take care, okay?" Penelope's concern was evident, but there was nothing she could do from where she was. She had seen too much to offer false hope, but she still cared enough to try to comfort you in any way she could.

You hung up, standing there in the silence of your kitchen, the reality of the situation washing over you like a cold wave. It had been like this for a couple of months now—Spencer leaving without a word, not feeling the need to let you know when he and the team were swept away on a case. The man who once called you just to say goodnight was now a distant figure, more involved in his work than in your relationship.

The last time you had confronted him about it, his response had cut deeper than you ever expected. “We’ve been together for over a year, Y/N. Do you not trust me? Why do you have to be on top of me constantly?” His words echoed in your mind, the memory still fresh and painful.

“Spencer… I just like to know where you are and that you’re safe," you had explained, your voice tinged with desperation as you tried to make him understand. "What if something happens to me or you, or someone we love, and I don’t know where you are or how to get a hold of you?”

But instead of understanding, Spencer had just looked at you with frustration in his eyes, as if your concerns were an inconvenience to him. “I don’t understand why you need to know where I am 24/7,” he had said, his tone dismissive.

And so it had continued—this growing distance between you, each day a little more painful than the last. Now, as you stood there with tears slipping down your cheeks, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was how it would always be. If the man you loved was slipping away, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

—

Present 

To anyone watching, you and your date looked like the picture of a perfect evening. The two of you sat across from each other at a small, candlelit table in the charming bistro, the flickering glow casting warm, soft shadows over your faces. You smiled at all the right moments, nodded thoughtfully as they spoke, and even laughed at their jokes. The waiter who passed by with a tray of desserts might have thought you were a couple deeply engrossed in each other, enjoying the bliss of a night out.

But inside, you felt nothing. It was as if a thick, impenetrable wall had gone up around your heart, leaving you detached from everything that was happening. You went through the motions—smiling, nodding, making polite conversation—but it was all a performance, a carefully crafted facade that hid the emptiness gnawing at you from within.

Your date was saying something funny, and you forced another laugh, just loud enough to seem genuine. They smiled back, clearly pleased with themselves, and you returned the gesture with a bright, practiced smile. You knew how to do this—how to pretend everything was fine, how to play the role of someone who was fully engaged in the moment. But underneath that polished exterior, you were numb, a hollow shell left behind after months of emotional exhaustion.

The memory of Spencer loomed large in your mind, a constant, oppressive presence that wouldn’t leave you alone. His cold words, his dismissal, the way he had slowly pushed you out of his life until you were left with nothing but your own loneliness—it all haunted you, a shadow you couldn’t escape. And now, sitting here with someone who was kind and attentive, you realized how far away you still were from truly moving on.

Your date reached across the table, lightly touching your hand, and you didn’t flinch. Instead, you smiled softly and let your fingers curl around theirs, mimicking the gesture of affection as if it were second nature. They seemed to take comfort in it, their face lighting up with hope, and you felt a pang of guilt for leading them on, even though it wasn’t intentional.

You could feel their eyes on you, searching for that connection, that spark that should have been there. But there was nothing—no flutter of excitement, no warmth in your chest, just the cold, empty numbness that had taken up residence in your soul. 

The conversation continued, your responses automatic and well-practiced, but your mind was elsewhere, trapped in the past, replaying moments you wished you could forget. You knew you should be present, that you should give this person the chance they deserved, but the weight of your own numbness was too much to overcome.

And so the evening went on, the two of you laughing, smiling, and talking, while the truth remained hidden beneath the surface. To anyone watching, it looked like you were having a wonderful time. But only you knew the reality—that you were just faking it, lost in a world of your own, desperately trying to feel something, anything, but unable to break free from the numb shell Spencer had left behind.

—

Four months ago...

The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife. You stood in the middle of the living room, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself as if that would somehow shield you from the pain you knew was coming. Spencer was on the opposite side, his posture rigid, his expression a mix of frustration and exhaustion. This wasn’t the first argument you’d had recently, but it was certainly the worst.

“Spencer, I’m not trying to control you!” you pleaded, your voice trembling with the effort to keep your emotions in check. “I just want to know what’s going on in your life! I want to be a part of it, like I used to be.”

Spencer sighed, running a hand through his hair in a gesture that screamed exasperation. “You say that, but it feels like you’re suffocating me, Y/N. Every time I turn around, it’s another question about where I am, who I’m with, what I’m doing. It’s too much.”

Your heart clenched at his words, the sting of them cutting deeper than you’d expected. “I just want to feel like I matter to you,” you whispered, tears welling up in your eyes. “Like this relationship still matters to you.”

Spencer’s face softened for a moment, but the frustration was still there, simmering just beneath the surface. “Of course, you matter to me,” he said, though the words lacked the warmth and sincerity you so desperately needed to hear. “But you’re making this so hard, Y/N. Every time we talk, it turns into an argument.”

“Because you keep shutting me out!” you shot back, your voice rising despite your efforts to stay calm. “You don’t tell me anything anymore! I’m the last person to know when you’re leaving, when you’re coming back. It’s like I don’t even exist to you when you’re at work!”

“That’s not fair,” Spencer replied, his tone growing defensive. “You know how demanding my job is. I don’t have time to check in constantly.”

“I’m not asking for constant check-ins,” you retorted, the frustration bubbling over now. “I’m asking for you to care enough to let me in! To let me know when something’s wrong, or when you’re going to be gone for days on end. I’m your partner, Spencer, or at least I thought I was.”

The silence that followed your words was deafening. Spencer looked away, his jaw clenched, as if he was trying to keep himself from saying something he’d regret. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the battle between wanting to comfort you and wanting to pull away.

Finally, he spoke, his voice low and strained. “Maybe… maybe we need some space,” he suggested, each word like a dagger to your heart.

“Space?” you echoed, the word foreign and terrifying. “You think that’s going to fix this?”

“I don’t know,” Spencer admitted, his shoulders sagging as if the weight of the world was pressing down on him. “But I do know that what we’re doing right now isn’t working.”

You stared at him, the man you loved more than anything, and felt the ground shift beneath you. This wasn’t just an argument; this was the beginning of something you had feared for months. The beginning of the end.

“Spencer,” you began, your voice breaking as the tears finally spilled over, “please don’t do this. We can figure it out, we can—”

“I’m not saying we’re breaking up,” Spencer interrupted, though his tone did little to reassure you. “I just… I need to think. I need to figure out what’s going on with me, with us.”

You nodded, though the movement felt hollow. “Okay,” you whispered, even though every fiber of your being was screaming that it wasn’t okay. Nothing about this was okay.

Without another word, Spencer turned and left the room, leaving you standing there, alone, the silence of the apartment pressing in on you like a suffocating weight. You didn’t know if you would ever be able to breathe again.

—

Present 

Spencer sat at a table near the back of the bistro, his eyes locked onto you from across the room. The soft hum of conversation and clinking of silverware faded into the background as he watched you laugh, your head tilting slightly as you shared a light moment with your date. Your hand was resting on the table, fingers intertwined with theirs, and the sight sent a sharp, searing pain through his chest, like a hot knife twisting deeper with every second that passed.

Derek and Emily sat on either side of him, their expressions filled with concern as they noticed his focus on you. It hadn’t taken long for them to spot you when they walked in, and they had exchanged uneasy glances, silently debating whether or not they should suggest leaving. But Spencer had insisted it was fine, forcing a tight-lipped smile that didn’t reach his eyes. He’d said it didn’t bother him, that it was no big deal, but the truth was a far cry from that casual dismissal.

“Spencer,” Emily had whispered, leaning in close so only he could hear, “we can go somewhere else. It’s not a problem.”

But Spencer had shaken his head, his gaze never leaving you. “No, really, it’s fine,” he had replied, his voice steady, though the turmoil inside him was anything but. He needed to see this, to witness how your date went, as if punishing himself by watching you with someone else would somehow make up for the mistakes he had made. Not that he’d admitted that to Derek and Emily. They would never understand the twisted logic he was following, the way he felt like he deserved every ounce of the pain that was currently eating him alive.

It was ironic, really. He had once hated the thought of you tracking his every move, of you wanting to know where he was, who he was with, and what he was doing. It had suffocated him, made him feel like he was being controlled, watched over like a child. But now, here he was, insisting on staying in this very restaurant just to watch you on a date with someone else—because he had pushed you away, because he had been the one to break up with you.

And now, as he watched you smile at someone else, someone who was clearly making you happy, Spencer felt the full weight of his regret crash down on him. He had thought he needed space, thought that pushing you away would give him the clarity he so desperately sought. But instead, all he had done was lose you, and now he was faced with the brutal reality of what that meant.

You looked so radiant as you sat there, the candlelight reflecting off your eyes, your laughter light and genuine as you leaned closer to your date. It was a sound that used to fill his own life with warmth, a sound he had taken for granted. Now, it felt like a distant memory, something he could only watch from afar as someone else got to experience it.

He didn’t realize he was gripping his fork so tightly until Derek nudged him, snapping him out of his trance. “You sure you’re okay, man?” Derek asked, his voice low and cautious, as if he were afraid to push too hard.

Spencer forced himself to nod, though the tightness in his throat made it difficult to speak. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he managed, though the words were hollow. He wasn’t fine, not even close, but admitting that would mean facing the depth of his mistake, and he wasn’t ready for that—not yet.

Emily exchanged another worried glance with Derek, but they both respected Spencer’s decision to stay, even if they didn’t understand it. They made small talk, trying to distract him, but Spencer’s attention kept drifting back to you. Every time he saw your fingers intertwined with your date’s, a fresh wave of jealousy and regret washed over him, threatening to drown him in its intensity.

He had never imagined it would feel like this, watching you move on with someone else. The emptiness, the burning jealousy, the sharp pang of regret—it was all more than he had anticipated. And the worst part was that he knew he had no one to blame but himself.

As your date reached out to brush a stray lock of hair behind your ear, the gesture so intimate and tender, Spencer felt something inside him crack. He had once been the one to do that, to touch you like that, to make you laugh like that. And now, he had thrown it all away.

The irony was unbearable. He had been so desperate to keep his freedom, to avoid feeling trapped, and now he was the one imprisoned—imprisoned by the sight of you with someone else, knowing he had made the biggest mistake of his life.

—

Three months ago…

You lay in bed, the phone pressed to your ear as you listened to the familiar, comforting voice on the other end. "Supreme goddess of gadgets, how may I help you?" Penelope answered, her usual cheerfulness evident, though there was a faint hesitation in her tone, as if she already knew what was coming.

"Hey, Pen…" Your voice was weak, almost defeated. You could barely muster the energy to speak, the weight of everything crushing you from the inside out.

There was a brief pause before Penelope responded, her voice softer now. "Y/N… hi, how are you?" Her question was gentle, cautious, as if she were afraid of what your answer might be.

"Surviving," you replied, the word feeling like a lie even as it left your lips. "Um, you know what I’m going to ask."

A heavy silence followed your words, the kind that made your heart sink deeper into the pit of despair you had been living in for months. Finally, Penelope spoke, her voice filled with regret. "I do, sweetie… He asked me not to tell you anything. I’m so sorry."

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, knocking the air out of your lungs. You managed to choke out a quick "Thanks, Pen," before you hung up, not wanting her to hear the sob that was already clawing its way up your throat. 

As soon as the line went dead, you let it out—a heart-wrenching cry that seemed to come from the very depths of your soul. You curled up on your bed, clutching the pillow as if it could somehow hold you together while everything else in your life was falling apart. The tears streamed down your face, hot and relentless, as the reality of your situation washed over you in waves of pain.

Hours later, Spencer came home, his presence filling the room with an unbearable tension. "Space" had ended just last week, but things had not returned to normal—far from it. He walked in, glanced at you briefly, and his expression was cold, detached, as if he didn’t even recognize the woman lying in bed, broken and defeated.

“This can’t continue,” he said, his voice devoid of any warmth or affection. It was a statement, not a question, and you knew he had already made up his mind.

You didn’t respond. You couldn’t. The numbness had taken over, a merciful shield against the pain that had consumed you for so long. You stared at the ceiling, your eyes glassy and vacant, as if you were no longer truly present in your own life.

Spencer’s next words were like nails in the coffin of your relationship. “You and me? Done. You calling and checking in on me like I’m a fucking child? Done. I want you out. This is still my apartment.”

His words hung in the air, each one driving the knife deeper into your heart. But you just nodded, your body moving on autopilot because your mind was too shattered to do anything else. You had known this was coming, had felt it creeping up on you like a dark cloud ready to unleash a storm. But knowing hadn’t made it any easier.

Without another word, Spencer turned and left the room, the sound of the door closing behind him echoing in the silence that followed. You didn’t move. You didn’t cry. You just lay there, feeling as though a part of you had died, leaving behind nothing but an empty shell.

And in that moment, you realized that the person you had once loved more than anything was truly gone, and there was no getting him back.

—

Present 

You stand from the table, your heart heavy and your mind made up. This evening was never going to be what either of you hoped for, and you knew it was time to go home, to retreat into the solitude that had become your only solace. You had no illusions about what the rest of the night would hold—probably a bottle of wine, more than you should drink alone, and a sad movie to keep you company as you cried over the pieces of your broken heart.

As you turned to push in your chair, your eyes caught sight of something—or rather, someone—that stopped you cold. There, across the room, was Spencer. His familiar form sat rigid at a table, flanked by Derek and Emily, but it was his eyes that rooted you to the spot. Those eyes that had once brought you warmth and comfort, that had been the anchor in your life, now held an emotion you’d never seen in them before. It was raw, intense, and so deeply conflicted that it sent a shiver down your spine.

For a moment, the world around you faded, and all you could see were those eyes—eyes that had once looked at you with such love, now filled with something else entirely. Regret? Jealousy? Pain? You couldn’t quite place it, but it was enough to make your breath hitch in your throat, your heart lurching painfully in your chest.

Before you could think too long about what you were seeing, your date's hand gently rested on your lower back, pulling you back into the present. The warmth of their touch contrasted sharply with the cold, hollow feeling that had settled in your chest. They guided you out of the bistro, their hand steady as they led you toward the door, completely unaware of the storm that had just passed through your mind.

You didn’t look back, though every part of you wanted to. The urge to turn around, to meet Spencer’s eyes one more time and maybe, just maybe, understand what was swirling in them, was overwhelming. But you kept moving forward, your body on autopilot as you stepped out into the cool night air, leaving behind the painful memories and the man who had once meant everything to you.

As you walked away, the noise of the city filled the void where your thoughts should have been, but you couldn’t shake the image of Spencer’s eyes from your mind. Even as your date tried to engage you in conversation, their words fell on deaf ears. All you could think about was the look in Spencer’s eyes and how, for the first time, you had seen something in them that you hadn’t before—something that made you wonder if he, too, was feeling the sting of the choices he had made.

—

“I’ll be back,” Spencer said abruptly, his voice tinged with urgency as he stood up from the table. He didn’t wait for a response from Derek or Emily, who exchanged worried glances, their faces mirroring a mix of empathy and concern. They both knew how deeply Spencer had been affected by the breakup, and while they wanted to support him, they weren’t sure if following you was the healthiest choice. But Spencer was already moving, weaving through the tables with a determined stride, leaving his friends to watch helplessly as he made his way toward the exit.

Outside, the cool night air hit Spencer like a splash of cold water, sharpening his senses as he scanned the street for you. His heart pounded in his chest, the knot of anxiety tightening with every passing second. Then, he spotted you a short distance away, saying goodbye to your date. The two of you stood under the soft glow of a streetlamp, exchanging polite farewells, and Spencer watched as your date smiled kindly before turning to walk away. The knot in his chest loosened just a fraction, relief mingling with the anxiety that still churned within him.

He knew this was his moment. If he didn’t speak to you now, he might never get the chance again. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Spencer took a deep breath and walked toward you, his heart racing as he rehearsed what he would say in his mind. But when he reached you, all those carefully planned words evaporated, leaving him standing there, feeling more vulnerable than he ever had.

“Y/N,” he called out, his voice softer than he intended, but it carried enough weight to make you stop in your tracks. You looked up so quickly, your eyes wide with surprise and something else—something that made Spencer’s heart skip a beat. The silence stretched between you, heavy and loaded with everything unsaid.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. You just stood there, stunned, as if you couldn’t quite believe he was really there in front of you. The last time you had seen him, it had been under such different circumstances, and now here he was, the same man yet somehow different. The memories of your last encounter flashed through your mind, bringing with them a flood of emotions that threatened to overwhelm you.

“Hi,” Spencer tried again, his voice trembling slightly as he searched your face for any sign of how you were feeling. He could see the confusion, the hurt, the questions all swirling in your eyes, but you didn’t say anything. You just looked at him, as if you were trying to make sense of why he was standing in front of you now, after all this time.

“Can we talk?” he asked, his tone pleading, as if he were afraid you might turn and walk away before he had the chance to explain himself.

—

A year ago…

“Spencer, stop moving!” you laughed, your voice bubbling with amusement as you tried to steady his hand. He squirmed slightly in his seat, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“It tickles!” he protested, his voice filled with mock indignation as he wiggled his fingers in your grasp.

You chuckled, shaking your head in disbelief. “I don’t think you can be tickled on your nails, Spencer. You’re being dramatic.”

He huffed teasingly, his eyes sparkling with a mischievous glint. “I don’t see why you needed to paint my nails,” he said, though there was no real annoyance in his tone—just the warm affection that always colored your playful moments together.

“Because,” you replied, focusing on applying the nail polish with care, “I got a new color, and my nails look too pretty to take it off right now. So you’re the lucky volunteer.”

Spencer watched you as you worked, the gentle concentration on your face making his heart swell with warmth. He loved these quiet, silly moments with you, where the world seemed to fade away and all that mattered was the laughter and lightness you brought into his life.

“Well, I’m honored,” Spencer said with a mockingly serious tone, though his eyes betrayed the laughter he was holding back. “But what if they look better than yours?” he teased, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.

“Then I’ll have to break up with you,” you teased right back, trying to keep a straight face.

“Don’t even joke about that! I’d die without you!” Spencer exclaimed dramatically, his eyes widening in mock horror.

“Oh, shush,” you replied, smiling so big that you thought your heart might burst from how much you loved him.

“I’m serious,” he continued, his voice softening as he looked at you with all the love in the world. “If they look better than yours, you have to stay with me, despite the jealousy. I love you too much to let you leave.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you reached out to gently cup his face. “I would never leave you, Spence.”

“Ditto,” he said, his voice full of warmth and sincerity.

You leaned in for a sweet, smiley kiss, sealing the promise between you both. It was a kiss filled with love, with the kind of joy that made everything else fade away, leaving just the two of you and the unspoken vow that you would always be there for each other, no matter what.

—

Present

You nodded slowly, still unable to find your voice. The shock of seeing him again, the man who had left you so broken, was enough to leave you speechless. But there was something in his eyes, something raw and vulnerable, that made you pause. Maybe it was the way he was looking at you now, with an intensity you hadn’t seen in so long, that made you want to hear him out.

Without another word, Spencer gestured toward a nearby bench, and you followed him silently, your mind still reeling from the unexpected encounter. As you sat down, the distance between you feeling both too close and too far, you wondered what he could possibly say that would change anything. But you knew you had to hear it, whatever it was, because despite everything, a part of you still needed closure—or maybe, deep down, you hoped for something more.

Spencer sat beside you, the tension between the two of you almost tangible as he struggled to find the right words. His mind was a whirlwind of confusion and regret, a chaotic mess that made it nearly impossible to articulate what he was feeling. He hadn’t planned for this, hadn’t even thought about what he would do if he ever saw you again. He had tried to put you out of his mind, to bury the pain and guilt deep inside, because it was easier than facing what he had done.

But now, sitting next to you, the reality of his actions weighed on him like a heavy stone, and he could see the hurt and anger in your eyes. You were waiting for him to speak, but the silence stretched on, growing more uncomfortable by the second.

Finally, your patience snapped. “What do you want?” you asked, your voice sharp and cutting, a clear sign of the anger brewing inside you.

Spencer flinched at your tone, the pain of your words like a physical blow. “I don’t know, honestly,” he admitted, his voice weak and uncertain.

“Bye,” you said coldly, turning to leave, the finality in your tone making it clear you were done with this conversation.

Panic surged through Spencer, and before he could stop himself, he reached out and grabbed your wrist, desperate to keep you from walking away. “No, Y/N, wait,” he pleaded, his voice trembling.

But you quickly shook off his touch, anger flaring in your eyes. “You absolutely do not get to touch me,” you snapped, your voice hard as steel.

“I’m sorry,” Spencer stammered, his hand dropping to his side, feeling the sting of rejection.

“For touching me or something else?” you demanded, your voice laced with bitterness.

“Everything,” he whispered, his eyes filled with remorse.

You let out a harsh, humorless laugh, the sound bitter in the quiet night air. “Well, since you clearly don’t know what to say, let me start,” you said, finding your voice with a strength that surprised even you. Spencer opened his mouth to speak, but you quickly held up your hand, silencing him. “It’s my turn to speak, do not interrupt me.” He nodded, his heart sinking as he braced himself for the words he knew were coming.

“I cared about you, Spencer,” you began, your voice steady but filled with the weight of all the pain you had been carrying. “I thought you cared about me too. All I ever wanted was to be a first thought, but instead, I was an afterthought. Wanting to know when my partner—and my roommate—was going to be in a different state doesn’t seem like a lot to ask.”

Spencer’s throat tightened as he listened, the truth of your words cutting him to the core. But he knew better than to speak, knew that you deserved this moment to say everything he had never let you say before.

“And then,” you continued, your voice growing more intense, “to go and tell your coworker—someone I considered a friend—not to tell me anything about you anymore? God, that’s so fucking mean, Spencer. You were mean to me.”

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself, proud that you hadn’t let the tears fall, even though they were threatening to spill over. “I never once accused you of cheating, or even thought that you were doing anything behind my back,” you said, your voice softer now, but no less filled with hurt. “I didn’t ask for constant attention or updates. I didn’t yell at you, belittle you, or blame you. All I wanted was for you to care about me. And you didn’t.”

Spencer felt the shame wash over him, the weight of your words pressing down on him until he thought he might break. But he stayed silent, letting you continue, because you deserved to have your say.

“And yet, you dragged out the end of our relationship instead of having the decency to put me out of my misery,” you said, your voice trembling with the effort to keep your emotions in check. “I wanted to fix things—as pathetic as that feels now—I wanted to work it out with you. But it’s clear now that you always knew the end was coming.”

Spencer’s heart shattered at your words, the realization of how deeply he had hurt you hitting him like a freight train. He had been so wrapped up in his own fears and insecurities that he had never truly considered the impact his actions were having on you. And now, hearing you lay it all out so plainly, he was struck by the enormity of what he had lost.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice barely a whisper, but you shook your head, cutting him off once more.

“No, Spencer,” you said, your voice firm, the strength in it catching him off guard. “I don’t need an apology. I needed you to be there when it mattered, and you weren’t. So, tell me, why weren’t you there?”

The question hung in the air between you, heavy and piercing, demanding an answer that Spencer wasn’t sure he could give. He looked at you, seeing the hurt and anger in your eyes, the way you stood there waiting, needing an explanation that could somehow make sense of the pain he had caused.

He swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry as he tried to find the words. But how could he explain the mess inside his head, the way his fears and insecurities had twisted everything? How could he tell you that he had been too wrapped up in his own struggles to see what he was doing to you?

“I…” he began, his voice faltering as he searched for something, anything, that would make this right. But nothing came. The excuses he had told himself for so long now felt hollow and pathetic in the face of your unwavering gaze.

“I don’t know,” he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. It was the truth, the only thing he could offer. “I was… scared. Of losing myself, of losing control. I thought… I thought I needed space to figure things out, but all I did was push you away. I wasn’t there because I was too wrapped up in my own head to see what I was doing to you.”

You stared at him, the admission doing little to soften the anger that burned in your chest. “You were scared?” you repeated, incredulity lacing your tone. “And you think that’s an excuse? Spencer, I was scared too. I was terrified of losing you, of watching you slip away without understanding why. But I didn’t shut you out. I didn’t abandon you when things got tough.”

Spencer felt the weight of your words like a punch to the gut. “I know,” he said, his voice cracking with the weight of his guilt. “I know I failed you. I don’t have an excuse, Y/N. I was selfish, and I hurt you. And I’m so, so sorry.”

But even as he said the words, he knew they weren’t enough. They couldn’t undo the damage that had been done, couldn’t erase the pain he had caused. He had failed you when it mattered most, and now he was standing here, faced with the wreckage of what once was.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, to keep the tears that were threatening at bay. “Sorry isn’t enough, Spencer,” you said, your voice softer now, tinged with sadness. “It won’t change what happened, it won’t bring back the trust that was broken. I needed you, and you weren’t there. And now… now we both have to live with that.”

Spencer’s heart shattered at your words, the finality in them like a dagger to his chest. He wanted to reach out, to somehow pull you back from the edge, but he knew he had no right. He had lost that right the moment he chose to walk away instead of fighting for what you had.

“I know I don’t deserve another chance,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “But if I could go back… if I could do it all over again, I would. I would be there for you, I would fight for you. I’d give anything to make it right.”

But you shook your head, the sadness in your eyes cutting deeper than any words ever could. “You can’t go back, Spencer. Neither of us can. We can only move forward.”

“Together?” he asked, his voice filled with a desperate hope.

“Are you serious?” you replied, incredulity and hurt lacing your tone. With that, you turned and walked away, leaving him standing there alone with the weight of his regrets.

—

A year ago…

You walked into the apartment after an extremely grueling day at work, your body aching for the comfort of the couch and the sweet relief of doing absolutely nothing. As soon as you opened the door, however, you were greeted by the tantalizing aroma of your favorite meal wafting through the air. The familiar scent brought an instant smile to your face, and you couldn’t help but follow your nose like a cartoon character, eagerly tracing the delicious smell to the kitchen.

There, you found your adorable boyfriend, Spencer, fussing over pots and pans, his brow furrowed in concentration as he worked to perfect the meal. The sight of him, so intent on making everything just right, made your heart swell with love.

“Need some help, handsome?” you asked, leaning against the doorway with a soft smile.

Spencer jumped slightly, his concentration momentarily broken. “Huh? What? No! Go sit down, relax, I got this,” he insisted, his voice filled with warmth and determination.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his insistence. “Okay, baby. Thank you,” you said, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his cheek, which brought a pleased smile to his face.

With that, you made your way to the couch, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over you. Moments later, Spencer joined you, carefully balancing a tray in his hands. On it were two plates of your favorite food, two glasses of wine, and a small bouquet of your favorite flowers. The thoughtful gesture took your breath away.

“Spence… what is all of this for?” you asked, your voice tinged with surprise and emotion.

Spencer set the tray down gently and looked at you with those kind, caring eyes that always seemed to see right through to your soul. “You seemed off when you called earlier,” he explained, his voice soft and full of concern. “I figured you were having a hard day and wanted to treat you.”

Your eyes welled up with happy tears, the overwhelming love you felt for him making your heart flutter. “I love you so much, do you know that?” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

Spencer’s face lit up with a playful grin as he teased, “I don’t think I do. Can you tell me a hundred more times?”

You giggled, leaning closer to him. “How about a million?” you offered, your voice filled with sincerity and affection.

Spencer’s smile grew even wider as he leaned in for a sweet, tender kiss. “I’ll hold you to that,” he murmured against your lips, and in that moment, all the stress and exhaustion of your day melted away, leaving only the warmth of his love.

—

A month later… 

You walked into the coffee shop down the street from your office, savoring the familiar comfort of your Thursday morning routine. It was your little treat to yourself, a pick-me-up to help push you through the final stretch before the weekend. As you stepped inside, the scent of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods enveloped you, instantly soothing some of the residual stress from the workweek.

You were lost in thought, mentally debating whether to stick with your usual order or try something new, when you felt a gentle bump against your shoulder.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there,” a familiar voice apologized.

You looked up, your heart skipping a beat when you recognized him. “Spencer?” you said, the surprise evident in your voice.

He offered you a small, almost shy smile, as if he were seeing you for the first time. “Hello, stranger. My name is Spencer Reid,” he said, extending his hand as if introducing himself to someone he hadn’t met before. “I’m terribly sorry I bumped into you. Allow me to buy your coffee?”

You blinked, caught off guard by his playful formality. “What are you doing? Did you hit your head?” you asked, unable to keep the curiosity out of your voice.

Spencer shook his head, a hint of mischief in his eyes. “No, ma’am,” he replied, his tone light. “I’m starting fresh. Can only move forward, right?”

“Right…” you echoed, the words resonating with a meaning that made your heart flutter a bit, some of the cobwebs that had gathered around it beginning to fall away. There was something about this new approach of his that caught you off guard, but in a good way, like a breath of fresh air after a long winter.

A small, tentative smile tugged at your lips as you stuck out your hand, playing along. “Y/N,” you introduced yourself, feeling a spark of warmth you hadn’t expected. “Yes, you can buy my coffee. Thank you.”

Spencer’s eyes softened with a mixture of relief and hope as he shook your hand, holding onto it just a moment longer than necessary. “It’s my pleasure,” he said, and for the first time in a long while, you felt a small glimmer of something you thought you had lost—a sense of possibility, of maybe, just maybe, starting anew.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

tag list <333 @spencerreidsreads @sapph1re @idefktbh17 @dirtytissuebox @yokaimoon @reggieswriter @loumouse @mentallyunwellsposts @time-himself @chaneladdicted @kathrynlakestone @furrybouquettrash @hearts4spensco @gilwm @khxna @charismatic-writer @lilu842 @greatoperawombategg @noelliece @dreamsarebig

[satorhime]

. ･｡･ right where you left me ࿐gojo satoru.

── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ content : angst, fluff, dad!gojo (reader ‘n’ gojo have a daughter), set in 2018 and 2023, reunion, beach trips, established relationship ! f!reader. ･｡･ w.c. 3.7k & not proofread.

── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ synopsis : time remains the one enemy gojo can’t defeat. ໒꒰ྀི ´ ꒳ ` ꒱ྀིა notes: ik there’s a gazillion reunion fics but this has been sitting in my drafts since oct n i suddenly felt like finishing n sharing so i hope u enjoy <333 ‘m gna go cry over this fic now ;u;

satoru is having a damn good day.

it’s suspicious, it feels like a fever dream, and he can’t really pinpoint where the dubiousness comes from. maybe it’s because he feels as if he doesn’t deserve it, like if he allows himself to relax like this something terrible will happen while he slacks off. or maybe, it’s because he’s only ever had those truly good days in his youth when he was devil may care and his concerns for the wellbeing of the world slid off his shoulders weightlessly, like sheets of rain on a rooftop. a wild and selfish kind of happiness that begun in spring and ended too quickly in winter.

but today is a good day. he forgot to charge his phone last night, he is in the best mood he’s been in all year, and he can’t stop fucking smiling. gojo satoru is thriving, on top of the world, a little bit of that nostalgic, adolescent joy warming up his chest.

and it’s all because it’s a sunny day, the water is cool, and he’s on the beach with you and his baby girl.

the three of you decided to steal away on a spontaneous trip to okinawa that forced him out of his work uniform and into swim trunks with a bare chest, simply because you burst into his office with big droplets of tears in your eyes declaring yourself a terrible mother because you realized that your daughter was already three years old and she had never seen the ocean before.

it had taken him ten minutes to book three first class tickets and secure the private family villa for the weekend, fifteen to get packed, and twenty to board after hearing that.

he would do anything to please his girls, after all.

“‘anna go into the bathtub, mama!” your baby whines impatiently from the embrace of your arms, squirming and squiggling for you to let her down as she points towards the rolling ocean waves behind you. ever since she learned how to walk, she’s lost all patience for her doting parents carrying her around— especially when something catches the attention of those big, pretty blue eyes. it didn’t take long for her to become enamored with the sea, wanting nothing more than to get out of your hold and toddle towards the shallows.

“it’s called an ‘ocean’, cupcake,” you correct her, voice full of amusement and affection as you crane your head forward to kiss the soft skin of her chubby cheek, bouncing the toddler in your arms. “too bad we’re being held hostage by dada right now.”

“i heard that,” satoru mumbles with a pout, his third melon popsicle of the day hanging from one side of his mouth. droplets of green slush drips onto the broad planes of his chest in a sticky mess as it melts but he’s wholly focused on the two of you, one summer blue eye winked closed as the other peers through the lens of the polaroid camera looped around his neck. “but wait, just one more photo of my two favorite girls!”

“you’ve been taking photos for the last twenty minutes, satoru,” you huff. “we aren’t going anywhere, you know. you don’t have to take so many.”

“our baby needs to see what the three of us looked like in our prime, before we grow old and gray together.”

“you’re so ridiculous, gojo satoru.”

but despite your exasperation, you remain put. it’s hard not to feel the same way he does on a perfect day like this— contentment, light in the heart and full of love because of this little trip. the camera focuses in on you and your daughter before the shutter clicks, each snap immortalizing the sight of you and your baby girl illuminated by the lazy autumn sun.

“and done!” he cheers, catching the polaroid in his palm as it slides from the slot. it wobbles between two of his fingers as it develops, but he can already see that it’s a perfect picture. he feels his heart sink in his chest, melting into a syrupy sweet puddle of happiness that makes him lightheaded and anxious.

oh, you’ve never looked as pretty as you do right now. like a dream, a forever kind of love he never plans to let go of. wearing that cute little swimsuit he likes so much with his sunnies perched on top of your head and his baby propped up on your supple hip. the two of you are beaming, cheeks squished together, your daughter’s hand cupping your face fondly.

it’s the kind of picture that others would coo at and fawn over if he framed it in a museum, but satoru retrieves his wallet from the pocket of his swim trunks, tucking the polaroid safely in the trifold for his own selfish keeping.

“i think she really likes the beach,” you tell him, squatting to set your daughter on her feet. she waves to you and satoru before waddling toward the shallow surf, her little legs stumbling in the thick body of sand. “this was good of you, satoru.”

“what? you think i’d miss the opportunity to spend time with my best girls?” he asks you, a hand on his chest with an affronted look on his face. you resist the urge to snort as the two of you follow closely behind your stumbling toddler, rushing towards her every time she gets distracted and attempts to eat the sand or chase one of the seagulls.

“you’ve been busy lately, that’s all,” is how you respond, the accusation washed out of your tone for the gentle words instead. you don’t bring up how many milestones, how many little memories he’s already missed, just by being who he is— that no matter what, he’ll always belong to his duty first and his family second. no, you’ve always shown patience and understanding. never complaining when his side of the bed is empty before morning or your girl requests for her father to read a bedtime story in that animated, comical way you can never replicate for her. making her settle for your offkey, wobbly lullabies instead.

“i know,” he says quietly, suddenly serious— keeping one eye on your baby girl who is currently splashing her hands around in the sand and water. “one of my first year’s a vessel so the curses are getting more pesky. i don’t think that’s a coincidence.”

“you think something’s about to happen?” you ask, looking up at him, but he presses a kiss to your temple and you wrinkle your nose at the sticky feeling of his lips.

“nah,” he replies, and you almost roll your eyes because you know he’s lying. even though satoru has done his best to keep you hidden from his world, you’re no fool. you already know why he rarely comes home at night, why he was absent for christmas last year, why your daughter has never met her paternal grandparents. you know that with the reappearance of several ancient cursed objects, there is thunder crackling among the clouds. “don’t worry your pretty little head about that.”

satoru turns up the volume on the waterproof boombox half-buried in the sand next to your belongings. he can’t stand your choice of music, finds it noise most of the time, but it’s the distraction the atmosphere needs to throw off your questioning. he pulls you to sit down between his legs, your back pressed against his chest and his arms wrapped around your body.

ocean foam splashes against the tips of your toes as the two of you sit at the surf of the tide in peaceful silence, time getting away from you both in the warm sun as your baby girl plays, her energy endless— waddling around and squealing at the different curiosities and wonders the beach has to offer.

whatever will happen, satoru won’t allow it to be today.

“satoru,” you call after a long quiet, craning your neck to look up at him. “if you—”

“what, you think i’m gonna croak sometime soon?” he shoots back, already knowing where the conversation is heading. so he holds you tighter, his strong arms a protective cage around your body as his shades slide down the attractive slope of his nose. he cracks a grin at you, another obvious deflection because he knows you can’t resist when he looks at you that way. not with his hair mussed from humidity, a strip of sunscreen on his nose as he chews on that damn wooden stick from his ice pop earlier.

“i know what you’re doing,” you shake your head. “and it’s not working. i’m just worried, i’m allowed to, as your wife. you think you’re invincible but if something happens to you that’ll… it’ll—” it will break us.

satoru’s smile fades, but he thankfully doesn’t need to reply because your daughter is waddling up to the both of you now, her sand-caked hands full of seashells and stones that glimmer in the sunlight. he wants to scoff because if anyone understands the consequences of failing those you love, it’s him— it’s all he’s ever known.

“what ya got there, princess?”

“fish—!” she cries in her sweet, babyish voice. some of the shells tumble from her hands, and you watch as her expression switches from happiness to dismay to finally confusion. you have to bite your lip to hold back laughter when instead of picking them back up, she dumps the rest of the seashells in your lap. “now i don’t have any fish.”

“i think those are seashells, princess,” gojo says with a grin, picking up a shell that rests on top of your thigh and holding it up to the sunlight. “this shell looks like it belongs to a hermit crab, like your megumi-nii.”

“you’re a terrible influence on our daughter, you know.”

“i’m just setting up future dynamics, angel face,” he grins.

“look look look!” your daughter gasps, bringing your attentions back to her. “this swee-shell looks like dada—!” she squeals excitedly, her new finding held delicately in her little sand-covered palm. she stands up on your thighs to reach her father sitting behind you, holding an iridescent blue seashell next to gojo’s eyes, her tiny mind comparing the colors in wonder. meanwhile, satoru wears a smile that burns so wide it hurts his cheeks.

“it looks like you too, princess,” he boops her nose, gently taking the seashell and holding it to her eyes next. her answering giggles sound like a sweet bell calling him home to heaven, but he can’t answer it because there are two people on this earth who laugh and smile at him like he hung the moon and painted the stars. “if you put it in your pocket now, the ocean won’t call the cops on you for stealing it.”

“no, this one ‘s for dada,” she insists, shoving the pretty blue seashell back into his hand.

“thank you, my mini angel,” he ruffles her hair, and you smile softly at the little exchange because though she may be enamored with her new discoveries at the beach, her father will always be one of her favorite wonders of the world.

“i ‘anna go find one for mama now!” she announces, and you wonder how she hasn’t run out of energy yet, but you nod and stand to your feet, dusting the sand away from the bottom of your swimsuit. your baby’s entire hand curls around your pointer finger, and she pulls you along with great effort.

you glance back at satoru and find that he’s watching the two of you head closer to the water, that uncharacteristically genuine smile still on his face, and you part your lips to call him to your side— where he’s always supposed to be.

“you didn’t think we’d let you slack off, did you? finding seashells is serious business, satoru!” you tease, pretty eyes crinkling with unbridled happiness, haloed by the waning sun and the orange dreamsicle sky that holds it. “hurry up!”

“wait for me just a little while, i’m coming to you,” he calls back, a lopsided grin spreading across his mouth before he raises the polaroid camera to his face, snapping one last candid photo of the two of you before he jogs towards his little piece of heaven.

but he doesn’t think he’s imagining things when the distance between heaven and earth keeps growing further and further apart—

“satoru, you can’t stand outside forever,” your voice is gentle as it speaks behind him, your hand laid delicately on his back in comfort; breaking the sorcerer out of deep reverie, the edges of the old memory fading, replaced by the pink paint of his daughter’s bedroom door that he’s been standing in front of for the last thirty minutes. his thumb brushes over the polaroid in his hand, the one that had been his salvation and his undoing in the prison realm. he’d taken it out without knowing, his eyes reading over the date written in his handwriting.

october 30, 2018

the picture of you with your daughter on your hip that he took at the beach all those years ago— that had been the last time he’d seen her.

four, no, five years?

his feet are nailed to the floor because change makes satoru shut down, and everything has changed since then.

while time was immeasurable and immovable inside of the prison realm for him, the clock had ticked on outside of it and just like that, his little girl is no longer three years old, giving him seashells that matches his eyes or hitting the back of his ankles with her big wheel or—

“you can’t keep doing this to yourself,” you sigh. “you’ve been unsealed for months. you’re her father, no matter what.”

“i’m a stranger to her,” and to you, but he doesn’t say it. you had waited for him, in every aspect of the word. held out on hope and faith in his strength that he would return to your side, where he’s always supposed to be.

“you’re n—” but you’re cut off when the door opens to reveal your daughter standing on the other side. the child standing before him is almost unrecognizable. she’s much taller and older, wearing track pants underneath her school dress with ribbons in unruly waves of white hair. the last time he’d seen his daughter, she had been three years old and still learning things like colors and sight words and that feeding megumi’s demon dogs her vegetable purée was against the rules. now, gojo satoru was the father of an eight year old and he’d missed everything because of a mista—

“you can come in,” she says, blinking up at satoru with an expression void of emotion. “but i’m not finished with my homework so if you stay too long, you’ll bug me.”

“how did you know i was outside?” he whistles nonchalantly, unbothered by the attitude that she gives him. it fills him with bitter satisfaction that she isn’t excited to see him, that someone is angry that he failed, regardless if he won in the end. he can handle bratty children who hate him and only look at him as a tool for their success, he can’t handle a daughter who cried herself to sleep every night waiting for him while he was losing his sanity away in a cube.

or at least, that’s what he tells himself.

“i could see you and mama through the door, duh,” she replies, hip cocked to the side in an amount of sass she had to pick up from you. “mama says i have your eyesight. i don’t really get it, but it makes it easy to cheat on tests.”

he could see it in the bright blue of her eyes, even if she hadn’t confirmed it. plain as daylight, she’s exactly like he was at that age. easily irritable and bratty, cocky and spoiled rotten. suffering from the weight of being an uncontested heir to an ancient dynasty at the age of elementary.

“i used six eyes to cheat on tests too,” he relates with pride, and then he bends down to her height, waving his palm. “sooo you probably got some questions about where i was—”

“not really. grandfather said you were sealed because you’re foolish and let weakness distract you.”

“you shouldn’t say things like that,” you scold, “apologize.”

“why? i don’t want to.”

your daughter turns, disappearing back into her room after that and seeming like she doesn’t care if satoru follows or not. your hand travels up the long expanse of satoru’s back in a soothing circle as you step closer.

“huh, that’s new.”

“sorry, she’s… i don’t know if acting out is the right term,” you say, pain in your voice. “she doesn’t really understand why she’s so different, or why you were … gone for so long. i know you didn’t want her around your family so i kept her away as best i could, but she started to have crippling migraines because she didn’t know how to use her ability and well… they were the only ones who knew how to help. filled her head with foolishness every time she visited the estate, though and it’s changed her.”

“huh,” is all he says, a broken record, tongue running across his inner lip in thought.

“do you need me?”

“what, you think i can’t handle her?”

“well, you were outside the door for a half hour, ‘toru.”

he shoots you a lopsided grin before he’s stepping into his daughter’s bedroom, glancing around at the unfamiliarity of it all. you follow close behind, watching with a heavy heart as he takes in the difference eight years can make.

her tiny baby crib has been traded for a poster bed decorated with a sanrio duvet and various stuffed animals where a laptop and study papers lay scattered on top. the angel themed decorations, along with her first ultrasound photo you and satoru had hung up in her nursery had been replaced by pink paint and pictures of her with a group of friends from school and a photo of her on a volleyball team.

he has to rip his gaze away.

“so,” he starts, standing in the center of the room and trying not to feel like an intruder, desperate for something to say— something to relate to her with. “how many episodes did i miss? did aya-chan ever get married?”

“i’m too old to play with dolls now, father,” she huffs, scrunching up her nose, and though satoru expected that exact answer, it doesn’t stop his heart from shattering into a million pieces. he feels that familiar itch, anger welling in his body until it burns at his fingertips because this is no one’s fault but his own. “don’t you know anything about me?”

“my bad, you’re a big kid now,” he snorts, even as his chest aches. he sits on the edge of her bed, flipping up one edge of the coloring book laying next to her laptop. “maybe you should start paying taxes.”

“i’m also too young to pay taxes. you really don’t know anything about me anymore,” she snaps, and she’s right— he doesn’t and it burns like saltwater on a wound. now he knows why you asked if he needed you; he’d hide behind you if he could, but he settles for flickering his eyes up to you helplessly.

you realize that neither of you can be upset with her for being angry that one of her favorite people vanished out of thin air. that while he was sealed, his clan had taken advantage of his absence and your powerlessness against them, and had begun spoiling your child rotten, teaching her how to use her ability— plumping her up for the inevitable day that she becomes her father’s successor, turning her against him.

“i think,” you say softly, leaning against the frame of the door. “that your dada— your father— would like to learn, though. he’s missed a lot, baby.”

she considers this for a long while, then she heaves a great sigh, hackles lowering. she scoots off the bed and before satoru can feel the hurt of figuring she doesn’t want to be near him, she does something unexpected. she moves one of her trophies out of the way to open her closet door, rummaging around for the longest before she yanks out a cardboard box you had labeled ‘donate one day since my snotty kid is a hag now’— it’s a box full of old dolls, covered in dust. she sits on her knees in front of the box, peering inside.

“aya-chan didn’t get married, but hinata-chan did,” she explains with an exasperated sigh and a roll of her eyes, taking out the dolls one by one and setting them on the floor in front of satoru’s feet.

“to the mailman that lived in your ugliest dollhouse?”

“you remember,” her eyes widen a little in surprise before her expression shutters again, smoothing out the doll’s colorful polyester dress before reaching back into the box and retrieving a brush covered in synthetic hairs. she looks at it for a while before extending her arm and offering the brush to her father. “aya-chan decided to be independent and explore the world. she’s planning to go on a trip soon so she needs to get ready. do y’wanna brush her hair?”

satoru is sliding off the bed and sitting cross-legged on the floor before he knows it, barely wanting to breathe because he doesn’t want to shatter the fragility of the moment between them. he takes the brush, and seconds later she hands him one of the dolls that had once upon a time been her favorite one that no one was allowed to touch. you would giggle at the delicate way he brushes the doll’s hair with utmost care and precision if you weren’t about to cry at the scene instead. “oh, and where’s she headed?”

“okinawa.”

“ponytail or messy bun then?” you don’t think you’re imagining the wobble in his voice. “to compliment her swimsuit.”

a tiny, hopeful smile twinkles over your lips at the two of them on the floor, babbling away to each other about the outlandish stories they’ve created together with her dolls. how many times had you offered to play with her, only for her to burst into tears because it wasn’t the same? you know that this won’t bridge the gap between the years that have been lost, but it’s a start. just hearing the soft murmurs of their conversation, the sound of your little girl giggling for the first time in ages, makes your heart swell.

time may be an undefeated opponent, and with it comes change that no one can control, but something tells you that as long as the three of you are together— everything will be okay.

you tiptoe out of the room, because they need time to catch up and apologize and reconnect, to learn one another once more, but before you close the door, you don’t think you’re mistaken when you hear, “can we go back to the beach too, dada?”

[hon3y-y]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ pov: hockeyplayer!suguru is your loving boyfriend<3

Inclusive to all fem readers<3 (no deep description of body type or skin color)

Enjoy<3

Hockeyplayer!bf! Suguru who’s hair flows behind him while he skates on the ice, flashing you a bright smile as he skates past you to score. He immediately blows a kiss to you and goes to celebrate with his team. He’ll go skating to the benches and practically throws himself over, “you see me babe?” He calls up to you. You nod, blushing as his coach tells him to sit down and grumbles “keep your head in the game, suguru. We haven’t won yet…” he’ll blow a kiss to you before sitting down, pushing away his teasing teammates.

Hockeyplayer!bf! Suguru who tells the opposing player standing next to him during the face-off, “by the way, I’m scoring off of this..” the guy looks confused and scoffs at your boyfriends cockiness, but ends up shocked when he does. Before he can fully process how fast suguru scored, he sees getou rush to where you are in the stands, calling out to his lucky charm.

I mean, he’s in front of his favorite person in the world? When is a better time to show off…

He’ll beg you to come to practices, showing you his smooth tricks and waiting for your approval every time. He absolutely loves praise and hearing you cheer for him, even during an empty practice? It scratches his brain in a way that pushes him to try harder, move faster, and win. He just loves to make you proud.

Hockeyplayer!bf! Suguru who’s own team is freaking out when you said you might not be able to make the game. He’s sulking, and his teammates are all trying to make him feel better.

‘She’ll come, don’t worry!’

‘She’s probably on her way right now.’

‘Just breathe, bro…’ which only makes him grumpier

After confirming you won't be able to make it, he’s out of it the first two periods, allowing the team they’re against to get ahead three points. During intermission you call him, saying you heard they were behind and you’d be able to be there the last period. Somehow he miraculously is back on his game and they end up only losing by one point. You apologized for missing the first half to which he shushes you, “my lucky charm made us lose with dignity, baby. I’m just happy you’re here.” He says while wrapping you in his arms, smiling like he won the Stanley cup.

When he goes home with you for the holiday, he plays hockey with your cousins and lets them win(cause he’s so sweet T-T. Probably dramatically throws himself onto the floor when they score making them giggle every time. Anyway..) That is until your nosey and annoying next door neighbor starts making comments on his plays. He rolls his eyes, leaning on his stick while focusing on the way the neighbor leans into you or comments on how pretty you look and suddenly there’s a puck flying, nearly hitting the annoying man. He goes to where you two are wrapping a protective arm around you, he’s acting shocked too. The neighbors eyes wide in shock sputtering nonsense as you try not to laugh, “shit man, usually I don’t miss.”

Hockeyplayer!bf! Suguru who runs out of the changing rooms as soon as he’s done and goes to meet you. His eyes sparkling, grin wide on his face as he moves his hockey gear to give you a bear hug. “How’d i do?” His voice is mumbled into your neck, tightening his arms and breathing in your comforting scent. You laugh at the ticklish feeling before facing him, “so good my love, couldn’t take my eyes off you~” making him blush.

Suguru is always worked up after a game, pulling you out to his car with a smirk on his lips. He’s staring down your shirt and smacks your ass when you pass him holding the door for you, “suguru! We’re in public—“ to which he just laughs and begins to tease you, “i thought you liked being watched? Didn’t have a problem when i made you cum on my fingers in front of satoru last week?” To which you gasp and immediately reach up to cover his filthy mouth. “I didn’t know he came in!” Your cheeks are flushed pink and you mumble a tiny ‘hmph’ before going to the passenger seat of the car.

You're confused when he doesn’t open it, turning to look at him and noticing his crossed arms. “That’s my job, princess.” And just like that, your putty for him again. You giggle and turn away as he strolls over only for you to stop him. “Open the back, gonna need it more…” you lean up to his ear and whisper making him bite his lip. “Anything for you, baby.”

NSFW below;

Hockeyplayer!bf! Suguru who currently has you in his lap in the backseat of his car, his hands grabbing and caressing anything he can. He plays with your tits through your shirt, nipping at your lip and rolling his hips up to grind his aching cock into your covered pussy. “Mmh—take this off, please..” he’s pawing at your shirt, helping you remove the item before immediately pulling your bra down to stare at your pretty tits. He tugs and plays with your nipples, chuckling when you push his hands lower “guru, play with this instead~”

Clothes are thrown around the car, both of you guys impatiently wanting to feel each other. You climb on top of him again, feeling your mouth salivate at the sight of how large he is (never failing to impress you)

The feeling of his tip pushing into you makes you let out a sharp cry, the stretch painful without the prep but your dripping pussy helps glide him inside. Suguru reaches up to caress your soft cheek, kissing your watering eyes while whispering words of encouragement. “I know baby,” he leans his head against the headrest, trying not to cum just by the feeling of his head popping through your tiny, wet hole. “Slow baby, you can take it~” his hands rest on your hips, moving to play with your clit and try to help you adjust.

When you finally sink down onto him fully, he holds you still, closing his eyes and trying to not succumb to cumming right there. Your face is twisted up as his cock nestles against every nerve you have, panting at just how full he makes you. “Su-guru, ‘ure so big—nghh!” You moan when he rolls his hips up.

With your hands using his shoulders as leverage, you begin to ride him. Suguru is noisy, he doesn’t mind showing his lover how good he feels. And as he leans into your ear, telling you how good you’re doing, you can’t be more grateful it’s you he’s talking to

“Good job baby—oh fuck!—riding me so g-good.” He moves his hands to your ass, spanking it and watching the jiggle it makes before grabbing it for leverage. He’s also a little impatient so it’s not long until he fucks up into your pussy, making eye contact with you so he can watch the way you lose yourself in the pleasure. His cock hit your g-spot harshly, you clench tightly around him with your eyes rolling back. You moaned uncontrollably, any attempt to shush yourself stopped by suguru. “Move ur’ fucking—hands.”

Your tears egged him on, enjoying your choked sobs that echoed in the confined space. The car had fog on the windows, shaking lightly and if anyone of his teammates saw, it would be nearly impossible to argue what the two of you are doing.

He slows down, changing his rough pace to slow loving thrusts. He pulls you to him, kissing you passionately and enjoying the intimate moment while reaching down to thumb your clit. You gasp into the kiss, brows furrowing at the double stimulation. “Don’t s-stop!” You beg, messily kissing him letting out shakey breaths. Suguru playfully smiles while nodding, “i won’t baby, promise…”

He adjusts the two of you, laying you down and lifting your legs to your chest before pushing back into you. He groans, and grabs your jaw. “Open.” You do as you’re told and feel suguru spit into your mouth, picking up his pace after watching you swallow it without instruction. “Good—fuckin—girl.” He emphasized with every thrust, nearly hypnotized by how pretty you look.

You tighten around him when he leans down to suck on your harden nipple, bucking your hips to meet him halfway. You’re being fucked dumb, eyes rolling whenever he fucks you full, feeling yourself getting closer to the edge with every drag of his cock. Your voice pitches, “Gon-na cum!”

Suguru wraps his hand around your throat, “yeah? Not even asking? What a brat.” He scoffs. You try and speak, wanting to beg and be his good girl but you can’t. You can feel it building, unable to have any control. His eyes darken, “really? Still not gonna ask?” And you start crying. Your brain is fried, the need to please losing to your own selfish desire to cum.

“S-sor-ry!” You yelp as it snaps. you cum hard, your eyes squeezed tight as your back arches up and your whole body tightening. You're shaking, throwing your arms over your eyes as you curl into yourself as intense wave after wave courses through you. With ringing ears, you don’t know when you finally regain senses but the first thing you feel is Suguru's rough hands caressing your cheek.

Suguru has pulled out of you, “holy shit, looked so hot babe.” You laugh at the surprised look on his face. You look down and notice the wet spot on his seat and try to sit up, embarrassed. “Woah, take a second to breathe, mama.” He jokes while pushing you back down.

“Guru, I’m sorry. Ill clean—“ he cuts you off with an annoyed groan, playfully smacking your pussy making you gasp. “You should only apologize because I didn't get it on camera.” You look up at him and smirk, “you didn’t cum yet, think you can make me do it again?”

Hockeyplayer!bf! Suguru who does make you cream on his cock again but this time on video. The same video that, with your permission of course, he shows to his teammate satoru with an open invitation to join in on that nights after party

Hockeyplayer!bf! Suguru is just the best<3333

A/n: it’s finally done🙏 i have finals coming up so idk when imma write again💔

[ashurzs]

Heya! I’m in love with your OCs and have been rereading their stories way too many times so I’d like to make a request!

I’d love to see pervert bf trying to make his wet dreams come true now that reader is back. The idea of bf taking photos of reader while fucking him dumb has me in a chokehold ngl 😋 bf seems like the type to tease reader abt it too. If you’re uncomfortable with this idea feel free to exclude it! I’m alr happy with the food you’ve given us so don’t feel obligated 🫶 love your works!

SMILE FOR ME BABY !

cws: bttm!mreader, video/picture taking, like one sentence of degradation, mostly praise tho!!

“babyy~” your boyfriend, haru, wraps his arms around your waist as he groans. he’s been like this ever since you came back two days ago.. clinging onto, following you, whining like a lost puppy. “i’ve missed you so much..” he sobs out dramatically as he clings onto you.

“you can let go of me you know.. it’s not like i’m gonna-“ “no!” “we’re on the bed?!”

you sigh, trying to pry his hands off of you. “haru!” you whine out, trying to pry his hands off of your waist while constantly trying to wiggle out of his grasp. he sighs and just hugs you tighter, deciding to put his leg over yours.

“baby.. you’re so cute when you look angry,” you see him smile and blush, biting his lower lip. his dyed pink hair, pink nail polish you painted weeks ago, his twinkling eyes and his soft cheeks.

“w..what?” you say, blushing softly. then you quickly shove his face away when he lays on top of you, looking at you as you feel something poke against your thigh. but he grabs your wrist, kissing your fingertips. “please.. pretty boy.?”

“h-haru! fuck.. wait- you’re so.. big-“ you struggle to say it properly as he continues to push himself inside of you, kissing your tears and holding your hand. honestly, he is quite sweet and is very cute, but he’s..

“can i record you baby?” “huh.?” you blink through the tears, whining and gripping his hand tighter when you feel him fully inside. “record,” he says again, waiting for your signal to finally be able to fuck your tight hole. “so when you leave again for work.. i have something to jack off to.” he says while using the hand that was on your waist to rub the skin softly, a way to calm the pain down maybe?

“you’re.. shameless for asking that without stuttering..” you say out. nodding your head, he smirks. “why should i be ashamed of my pretty baby being fucked dumb hm?” he says, unwrapping his hands from yours and using them to grip at your waist. “my precious boy.. don’t think okay? jus focus on my cock mhm?”

haru smirks as he watches you arch your back, biting your arm and muffling his name like chants while he continues to grip at your waist with his left hand and thrust into you. grabbing his phone and going to his camera, he presses record. he makes sure to get everything. from the way your cock slaps against your stomach to the way your back arches, from your muffled moans and just barely shy of your face. “feels good huh? moaning my name like it’s the only word you know..” he coos mockingly, smirking once he hears a gasped moan. “yeah? right there?”

he continues to abuse that same spot, recording the way the hand that had previously been gripping at the sheets go to his wrists. “haru haru haru~” he copies you as he giggles, whiningly cursing as he watches you cum all over your stomach, the sight of your hidden face, sweaty body mixed with your cum is enough for him to cum as well, filling you up with soft thrusts to help you calm down. “you okay?” “a-ahuh..” “great.”

“fuck- even if i came in you twice, you still clench around me like you want more like a pathetic whore.” he says, watching you hiccup and sob from the overstimulation. he wasn’t even hitting your prostate though.. “p-please.! l-last one.. no more haruu,!” you beg while he smirks. pressing record once more, he stops thrusting and focuses the camera on your messy hair and tearful expression. leaning forward, he fixes the hair out of your eyes while watching through the camera. you let him, looking at him with doe eyes and pouty lips.

he gulps. he’s done for, you’re so fucking pretty on his phone. “smile for me baby.”

he feels himself smile too, watching as you comply with his request so easily. snapping a picture, he presses record once more. “good boys who listen deserve good cock right?” the phone captures your nods and soft begs. “fuck- if only you’d be able to get pregnant huh?”

pulling out and recording one last time, he captures his cum leaking out of your hole. smiling to himself, he tosses his phone and lays next to you. “i missed you.” he says simply, pushing your hair back and away from your forehead. “fuck off..”

you listen to him talk and ramble, feeling his hand on your back while he plays with your hair. you feel comfortable, just being in his chest and hearing his heart beats while he talks. closing your eyes, you feel the hit of exhaustion that washes over you like a tidal wave.

..

wait, pregnant.?

hey chatt.. um.. grabs ukulele and sings apology for being dead knowing damn well im not gna post for another month or two

ALLOSOSSOOO THANK YOU FOR BIG 300 HELPP I LOVE U ALL CONSENSUALLY THANK U FOR READING MY LITTLE DRABBLES !!

oh yeah pervert bf is now haru! (tbh i took his name from my j.ai bot that i made and i realized hey they seem the same tbh but yup, i could prooobably link him but yaknow!)

[smokeysweater]

Masterlist It had been a good arrangement so far. You and John I mean, it had been pretty comfortable since you originally applied for the ad, it still baffled you that nobody else wanted this, 250 pounds every two weeks, to live in a nice house in the gorgeous countryside, with a roommate who is barely here. Even when John is here, he’s civil and nice. Doesn’t talk to you unless needed, using the sweetest of nicknames when he does as well. ” hey sweetheart, I’m about to run to the grocery store, ya need anything?” ”let me just squeeze right past you, doll” ” Thanks for the dinner love, it's delicious as always.” His voice, that deep, smooth British tone mixed with the most knee-dropping nicknames, it’s a wonder how you’ve survived this long with him invading your mind every time you go to bed. so it was a good thing you two had going on, he left for months on end, leaving you with the house you barely paid rent for, you’ve seen the bill, you know it’s not 250 pounds, that barely scraps it. You’ve tried confronting him about it, but he just hit you right back with a “Don’t worry about it sweetheart, just let me handle it.” …yeah you didn’t fight back against that one. honestly, before you realise it, three years have passed, 3 nice years of having a giant, beautiful house in the countryside all by yourself with a sometimes roommate and only paying dirt for rent, and you might be the luckiest person you know. it had occurred to you one day however, since it had been three years since you’ve started living with John, or as you’ve heard some people call him, Captain Price, that you two were common law.So, you thought it was at least a little funny, so you brought it up one day. You had been waiting for a week when he was home, it had been a bit since he got back, you decided now would be the moment to tell him, with you two sitting at the dining table eating a dinner John had prepared for you two The utensil’s that clattered and Clinked against the plates filled the mostly silent room, there was no tension against you two, just happy to let the quiet fill the air, so you took this as an oppuritinty to tell the older man.  “Hey John,” you spoke, prompting him to look up, baby blue eyes peering up at you, threatening to still your very being. “You know, since it’s been three years since we’ve lived together, we’re technically in a common law marriage now, funny right? I mean you're barely here but the kingdom decides we’re ‘married’” You chuckled, putting air quotations at the married part, you didn’t look Price in the eyes when you said this, focusing on the plate in front of you. so you were unable to see the way his eyes darkened, how his knuckles seemed to whiten with how tightly he gripped his knife and fork. His breathing silently froze for a moment, but the moment you looked back up again, he went back to normal, as if to hide what motions exactly ran through him like a fright train. ” that so?.. spouse we should do something to celebrate, huh doll?” Price asked, in the hushed velvety tone he always carried when talking to you. you shrugged, uncaring. “I mean, we don’t have to, I don’t think it matters, we’re not married.” You reminded Price casually, too preoccupied to see the way Price twitched at that.

”I suppose not.” He mumbled back.

That small moment set off a chain of events that would change your relationship for the better or worse.

the next morning, you felt stranger than usual, it felt.. weird, and wrong. But, naive ol’ you, shrugged it off, getting up for the day, but when you looked down at you beside the table to grab your phone, you noticed something. curiously, you picked up a ring, a pretty little thing, the red gem glinting bright in the Sun, the silver band attached to it feeling smooth and cool against your skin. next to it, was a small note. ’Hey sweetheart. Had to leave early, I’ll be back, I promise, I got you something for Our marriage, Hope you like it. Be back soon To Mx Price. Love, John Price’ what the fuck.

[domnamewoman]

MK1 Characters React To: Being Pinned To The Wall By Their Crush To Hide On A Mission

Characters: Liu Kang, Raiden, Kung Lao, Johnny Cage, Kenshi Takahashi, Kitana, Mileena, Tanya, Sub-Zero, Scorpion, Smoke, Reptile, Baraka, Shang Tsung, Rain

Warnings: GN!Reader

Masterlist

Requests Are Open

Liu Kang’s first priority is making sure that you both are safe and undetectable by the enemy. It isn’t until after he confirms your safety that he realizes just how close you are. So close that he can feel your breath brushing over him on every exhale. Despite enjoying the proximity he doesn’t want to risk you feeling uncomfortable so he backs off.

“I think we are in the clear now. Let’s find our way back to the exit.”

Raiden is overthinking everything from the moment you press up against him. Should he hold his breath because breathing in your face is rude, right? Should he close his eyes because him staring at you just has to be making you feel awkward, isn’t it? So caught up in his head he doesn’t even realize that you moved back until you ask if he is okay.

“What… Oh, y-yes I’m okay. Let’s get out of here.”

Kung Lao uses this opportunity to appreciate your features up close. The way your eyelashes brush against your cheeks. The little mole on your chin that he never noticed before. Your smell… It’s simply intoxicating. He would be so focused on memorizing every detail that he didn’t notice the enemy left until you cleared your throat to get his attention.

“I’m sorry, I was just… never mind, let’s get going.”

Johnny Cage takes full advantage of the situation and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into him. Can you blame him? The cart you’re hiding behind is too small so you have to be as close as possible not to be spotted, obviously. That’s also the reason he has to lean his head against your shoulder. He’s just too tall! It’s definitely not because he wants to nuzzle into you, his lips brushed against your neck completely by accident. Really.

“I think I still hear someone walking around. Let’s stay here for a bit longer.”

Kenshi Takahashi is cursing his heightened senses right now. He is hyper-focused on you and only you. Your addicting scent, the warmth seeping into him from every point your bodies are connected. It takes all of his willpower not to just melt into you. Once you pull away he takes a calming breath and tries to get his brain to focus back on why you both are even here.

“Right, the mission… Let’s uh, let’s head that way.”

Kitana is only worried about the mission getting ruined if you both get caught. That is why she is surprised when she notices her hand over your mouth keeping you from making a sound and the tight grip she has on your shirt, holding you against the wall. This is not how she pictured finally getting this close to you going. She blinks as she releases you and takes a step back.

“My apologies… We just, we can’t get caught.”

Mileena smiles as you press up against her, happy with the turn of events. She knows that you like her just as much as she likes you. She uses this time to tease you by pushing her chest into you and blowing her warm breath against your neck. Her thigh finds its way between your legs. It amuses her to see you try to remain quiet and unbothered by her actions.

“We should try this another time… under different circumstances.”

Tanya tries to remain calm as your bodies are pressed against each other. She can’t believe that you both are in this situation right now… but she doesn’t exactly hate it. You smell so good and your body is so warm. It’s better than what she’d imagined being pressed against you would feel like. The only downfall is that you both were hiding in enemy territory. Oh right… the mission.

“I think we’re all clear. Let’s find a way out of here.”

Bi-Han can’t help grabbing onto your hips as you push him against the wall. He would be lying if he said he didn’t love the feeling of your bodies pressing against each other. He only wished it was happening under different circumstances than hiding from the enemy. Maybe after you both get what you came here for, he will finally make a move and make his intentions clear.

“Come, let’s finish up and head back home.”

Kuai Liang would try and create as much distance between you as he could, which would be futile. He doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable. Even though all he wants to do is pull you into his arms and hold you tightly, he would contain himself. He respects you and your personal space and all he can do is hope that someday you would want him in it.

“They’re gone. Sorry about that… We can go now.”

Tomas doesn’t know what to do with himself. He keeps his arms down to his sides, hands gripping his pants legs. That is the only thing he can do to keep himself from reaching out and embracing you. Something that he has longed to do since shortly after meeting you. Why can’t he think of anything besides how stunning you look, even now?

“Do you, uh… Do you think they left? We should probably get going.”

Syzoth’s brain is malfunctioning. He can’t control the way his body reacts to having you in his personal space. He tries to stop the low rumble of a purr-like growl forming in his chest because one, how embarrassing, and two, he doesn’t want to give away your location. You two were hiding from the enemy for goodness sake! This definitely wasn’t the time.

“Um, can we… Maybe we can sneak around the corner.”

Baraka was surprised that you didn’t mind being this close to him. Ever since being affected with Tarkat, nobody wanted to be even a few feet away from him, much less in physical contact. Being this close to you just reminded him of how much he missed physical affection. He hopes that since you aren’t afraid of touching him, his affection for you won’t be rejected.

“Come on, I will fight our way out of here if I must. You don’t have to worry.”

Shang Tsung believes that this is right where you both belong, in each other’s arms. He desires nothing more, not even power or influence (although they’re pretty close), than he desires to be able to hold you close to him daily. He will stop at nothing to convince you that you belong with him. He’ll start by showing you how capable he is by protecting you.

“These imbeciles are no match for my magic. We’ll be out of here shortly.”

Zeffeero bit his lip trying to ignore your thigh pressed against his crotch. You seemed oblivious to your position and just how hard you were making it for him to hold on to his last strands of self-control. How did you not know how you affected him? He thought he was being pretty forward with his flirting but you never seemed to get the hint. Maybe he should talk to that Johnny guy? Later, you two needed to get out of here first.

“Let’s sneak attack him once he turns around. Get ready… Now!”

[f1byjessie]

A PICTURE IS WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS ━━ LN4.

sometimes the right words are hard to come across, and sometimes everything you need to say can be captured in an image.

( lando norris x photographer!reader )

━━ part one.

INSTAGRAM.

liked by mclaren, landonorris, and 505,281 others

tagged: landonorris

yourusername a smiley lando is the best lando in my books! to celebrate the end of the 2023 season, here's a handful of my favourite photos from throughout the year!

view all 3,171 comments

mclaren What a happy lad! We can't wait to see that smile again in 2024 😁🧡

↳ yourusername you and me both! 🤝🧡

user she's got the dream job omg

↳ user IKR??? imagine just getting to follow lando around and take pictures of him all day, i'd be dead within the first hour

↳ user he'd smile at me and i'd be asking “what are we” on god 😩😩😩

↳ user is that literally all she does??? she just follows him around and takes pictures??

↳ user there’s probably a technical term for what her position is and i just don’t know it, but bc there’s so much going on around the track at any given moment, sometimes the press and other media workers are focused on something or someone else, so she’s hired on by mclaren to specifically focus on mclaren to make sure that there is content for mclaren or mclaren sponsors to use. she’s not just lando’s photographer, she also takes photos of oscar, the pit teams, and the other staff that work in the garage, but she was hired on when lando started so her portfolio is pretty full of him. hope this helps!

user didn't know i could need so much orange in my life but here we are

user LANDO NORRIS SUPREMACY

oscarpiastri i see who the favourite is 🫤

↳ yourusername you literally SAW me picking photos for your post too

↳ oscarpiastri yeah but you posted his first 🫤

user guys this is the face of the 2024 wdc winner take it in now

user i could write a 50 page thesis on the importance of these photos and what they mean to me and how the serotonin they make me release could replace my depression meds

user lad’s like a mini danny ric with how smiley he is

landonorris best photog right here folks

↳ yourusername you're only saying that bc i always get your good side

↳ landonorris i'll have you know that all sides are my good sides 🤨

↳ yourusername whatev helps you sleep at night luv 😊

In 2019, when you took on the job of being McLaren’s lead photographer, you hadn’t expected it would garner you the amount of attention it has, or that it would slingshot your career to levels of success you never could have anticipated, or that you would get a best friend out of it.

When you first met him back in those early days, you’d thought Lando Norris was an arrogant, pretentious, self-righteous prick who thought he was hot shit because he was a Formula One driver. However, he’d quickly proven you wrong when he’d admitted to you that a lot of the confidence was an act━ carefully constructed to hide his insecurities about his performance both on and off the track.

“I mean, we’re drivers, yeah?” He’d said. “But we’re also actors. We’ve got these personas that we have to uphold even out here on the paddock, and I’m always worried I’m not playing the part well enough.”

It hadn’t made a lot of sense to you then, you thought he was pulling off the persona of Total Douche remarkably well, but in Shanghai, things changed.

After the Chinese Grand Prix, things were dour. Lando had DNFed━ the first in his Formula One career━ which contrasted greatly with his previous accomplishment of P6 in Bahrain. Carlos Sainz hadn’t been doing very well, either, and it didn’t paint a very pretty picture for McLaren so early in the season. You’d thought he’d throw a hissy fit, tear Daniil Kvyat apart for his role in the crash, or at the very least throw some shade his way, but he hadn’t done any of that. He’d accepted his fate with grace, joked to the media about how boring the race had been because of what had happened, and then gone on to congratulate Carlos for at least finishing.

What was even more shocking, was that despite his disappointment and the frustration he must’ve been feeling, instead of going back to sulk in his lonesomeness or drown out his feelings with booze and loud music at some club, he’d comforted you later that evening.

The morning of the race, as you’d been getting ready in your hotel room, you’d gotten a text from an unsaved number admitting to you that they’d been taking part in a months-long affair with your boyfriend but had been previously unaware that he was already taken and therefore wanted to let you know to clear their conscience. You’d managed to hold yourself together then━ mostly because you’d already done your makeup and, quite frankly, didn’t have the time to sob it all off and then attempt to salvage it━ but as the day drew to a close and the adrenaline of the race and its excitement wore off, and with nothing else to keep you distracted, you were struggling to keep yourself composed.

Lando had somehow noticed in that weirdly perceptive way of his that something was off, and he’d sat with you, asked what was wrong, and listened when you━ through tears━ explained the situation to him.

“He sounds like a total fucking muppet,” he’d commented after you’d said your piece, and he’d done it with such a deadpanned expression that it had startled a genuine laugh out of you. Because yeah, you’re (now ex) boyfriend had been a muppet.

After that━ and after all the rom-com and ice cream binging you’d both done in his hotel room afterward much to the chagrin of Lando’s nutritionist and the displeasure of his PR officer━ you’d rescinded your initial judgment of him. He was significantly less dickish than you’d originally thought, and it let you finally understand what he’d meant when he’d talked about putting on a persona.

The cocky, know-it-all prick that Lando pretended to be half the time was all just an act to hide his overly self-critical nature fueled by his insecurities.

By the end of the season, he’d gained a little confidence of his own and had subsequently toned down the assholery when he no longer needed to “fake it til he makes it,” and you were calling him your friend.

It’s 2023 now, and he’s since been upgraded to best friend status━ a role he takes very seriously, and constantly reminds you of.

“I’m your best friend━” case and point, “━you have to come to Bali with me. Literally, like, what am I gonna do without you there? Do you expect me to just go by myself? What if I get lost? Or what if somehow the mafia, who have unknowingly had a hit out on me for years, track me down there and I’m kidnapped and ransomed off for billions of dollars? What will you do then?”

“You just want me to take pictures of you,” you answer, rolling your eyes only because you know he can’t see you through the phone.

He gasps in mock offense. “I cannot believe you think I value you so little! I want you to take pictures of me and be here to help me make fun of awkward tourist spray tans so I don’t feel like a total asshole for being the only one who laughs.”

You laugh at that. “Well, unfortunately laughing at bad fake tans doesn’t pay the bills.”

“But taking pictures of me does.”

“Yeah, when McLaren is paying.” You turn back to your laptop, a photo put on pause mid-edit splayed across the screen. It’s of Lando, as most of your photos tend to be despite your attempts at keeping things even between the McLaren boys. It’s the last of the images you need to send over for their 2023 sendoff, and when it’s finished you’ll officially be without work for a painstaking two months. “I’m on break too, technically, until they need promotional shit for the new season.”

He huffs, and you can almost imagine the childish pout on his face. “What are you even doing, then?”

You hesitate, not because you don’t want Lando to know about your winter plans, but because you don’t really know how he’ll react, which means it could be anything between genuine happiness for you and congratulations, or abject horror and feigned screams of anguish. He’s always been dramatic like that, but even more so now that he’s comfortable enough with you and himself to have crawled a decent way out of his shell.

Even still, he’s your best friend and it would make you a pretty shitty person if you didn’t tell him.

“Believe it or not,” you start, wringing your hands together, “but Manchester City actually hit me up with an inquiry. Asked if I’d be interested in working with them on a project documenting their training throughout the winter months. I said I would love to.”

He pauses for a good long moment, and you prepare for the screaming, but all he says is━ “Man City? You traitor. I thought Man United was our forever!”

“Be so fucking real right now, Lando Norris,” you answer, laughing as you do so. You’re relieved, at least he hasn’t gone the feigned anguish route, but you also can’t tell if he’s happy for you or hiding his true feelings behind humor like he’s prone to doing. “You know damn well you only watched them for Christiano Ronaldo and he hasn’t played with United since 2009.”

“Technically he played for them in the 2021-2022 season,” he grumbles.

“Yeah,” you deadpan, “and he was dogshit. We both agreed to pretend it never happened.”

He groans, “I can’t believe this. My day is ruined and my disappointment is immeasurable.”

“Oh, get over yourself. It’s only for the winter. I’ll be back in McLaren Papaya by February when they need me snapping shots of you and Oscar next to the new livery,” you promise.

The reality is that it’ll probably be sooner. McLaren has always been good about getting you back at HQ pretty quickly, either to get some snapshots of the beginning of Lando and Oscar’s pre-season return or to just capture some material of the engineers at work to promote their readiness. You understand why they can’t keep you around all year━ no Lando and no Oscar means no you━ and with the sheer amount of content you capture and edit for them throughout the season, they’ve got enough to last them the handful of weeks you aren’t working.

Unfortunately, you aren’t working with a driver’s salary to keep you sustained over the break and rent certainly hasn’t been getting cheaper. In past years, your bank account has been chirping with crickets when you’ve returned to work after the winter, and that was before your landlord had decided to make your life a living hell.

You have an important job, but it’s by far the most important, and sometimes sacrifices have to be made. Working in sports media taught you that early on.

“Who knows?” Lando’s voice snaps you back. “Maybe Jack Grealish with his perfect hair and perfect calves will steal you away and you’ll be in sky blue forevermore.”

You laugh, “Jack Grealish is a happily taken man, and although he does have perfect hair and perfect calves, I’m more of a Haaland girl anyway.”

He guffaws. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this. You’re so far gone that you already have a preferred player. Jack Grealish is England’s poster boy! Everyone loves him whether they like City or not!” He heaves a dramatic sigh. “Christ, I can already feel you slipping through my fingers. I give it a week over there at Etihad before you call me up telling me I can find a new best friend because you’ve replaced me with Phil Foden and Julian Alvarez.”

“For someone who supposedly hates Manchester City, you’re certainly well-versed in their roster.”

“Well duh, I need to know my competition,” he says, like it’s obvious.

“Ah, yes,” you snark back sarcastically. “Because you, a Formula One driver, have to be worried about the football players of Manchester City.”

“Apparently I do if you’re calling yourself a Haaland girl now!”

You burst into cackles and he’s following shortly after with chuckles of his own that eventually peter out into a comfortable silence. You are really going to miss him for the few months you aren’t working with him.

The Formula One schedule is so jam-packed across the season that it typically means you’re getting to see him every day for an hour or two at least, if not for the entirety of the time he’s at the track. You follow him and Oscar to their sponsor obligations, their interviews, and everything in between. It’s honestly rare if you’re not getting a moment to goof off and dick around with one another━ and it’s even rarer for you to not actually see one another face to face in passing at the very least.

The off-season is your least favorite time of the year for this very reason, and though it makes you feel a bit full of yourself to think so, you imagine Lando doesn’t enjoy this time of year much either for the same reason.

“I promise I won’t replace you with any of the City boys,” you say after the silence has stretched on a moment longer.

He huffs again, but you can envision the smile tugging at his lips. “I suppose even if you do, I’ll just show up to a match and steal you away again.”

“As if. Have you seen Grealish’s calves?”

INSTAGRAM.

liked by user, user, and 517,472 others

footballfansofficial BREAKING: Manchester City Forward Garrett Ward caught with mysterious woman revealed to be well-known Formula One photographer Y/N L/N! The two were seen sharing a romantic evening on Friday, the 5th of January, ringing in a passionate start to 2024. Garrett Ward has been with Manchester City since 2021 but was out on loan to a lesser-known Championship League team until 2023. He has just recently begun to play for his team again, but an injury early into the season has seen him benched for a majority of his time back. Y/N L/N is a photographer for Formula One racing team McLaren and has been working with them since 2019. Recently, she has been working with Manchester City to help promote a new docuseries following the men’s team’s winter training. Check the link in our bio for the full article!

view all 12,971 comments

user OMG GARRETT WARD??? NOTORIOUS BACHELOR GARRETT WARD???

user who is she? like genuinely how is she relevant 🤔

↳ user no literally cuz like who even gives two shits about formula 1?

user girl works in f1 why can’t she stay there

↳ user i’m sure there are plenty of drivers who’d smash her idk why she needs to try and get footballers too like bffr 😒😒😒

user aint no way this bitch is kissing my man rn

user literally what does he even see in her??? she’s not even cute AND she’s wearing man united colors 💀💀

user Y/N L/N??? I THOUGHT SHE WAS WITH LANDO NORRIS???

↳ user LITERALLY ME TOO?? like she posts him all the time on insta so i just kinda thought they were an item or smth?? trouble in paradise maybe

user she’s fucking ugly wtf

user i wish these footballers who get with regular women would realize there are so many better girls out there that would ACTUALLY treat them well and would support them in their careers. like i bet this girl doesn’t even know anything about football. she works in f1 and that’s where she should stay bc nobody cares about that shit round here. she probably doesn’t even know the first thing about how football works, but i bet she’ll be at matches pretending like she knows what’s happening. garrett ward is gonna flush his career down the troilet for this chick bc she’s gonna convince him his busy schedule ain’t worth it and then city will be down a great forward for good, and it’ll all be her fault

user i mean she’s kinda pretty tbf

↳ user stfu she really isn’t

↳ user she gen looks like any random bitch off the street

user these comments are not it…. 😬

↳ user maybe you f1 fans just don’t know how to handle constructive criticism

↳ user is the constructive criticism in the room with us rn?? cuz all i’m seeing is bullying and hatred directed towards an innocent woman who’s only “crime” was going on a date

user ok so she can take photos?? 🙄🙄 maybe she should get a real job

↳ user she’s probably only with him so she can mooch off of him like a fucking gold digger

user AINT NO WAYYYYYY

user it’ll last a month max 😌 i’m calling it

user ayo lando come get your girl

━━ tags: @maih23 @urfavnoirette

━━ a/n: here we have it! took me a bit longer than the start of american smile did, but lando's story is officially here! (and it's a whopping 2.9k words to start us off). first and foremost, before we get started, garrett ward is 100% an oc and obviously does not play for manchester city, and this is bc i would feel absolutely horrible portraying a real person in the way that garrett will be later on. gather from that what you will haha! regardless, i hope you enjoy this first part and stick around for the rest!

[boysmentfs]

Wishing Away The Guilt.

In collaboration with the great and wonderful @misctf :)

The sound of his alarm blaring woke James from his sleep. The young man jumped up, a wave of excitement coursing through him. Today was the day- one he had been waiting for since he was a kid. Today was his first day as a rookie police officer. Joining his older brothers, father, grandfather, and so on in the “family business.” James took a quick shower and dressed into his pristine new uniform. 

He grabbed a protein shake and headed out, but not before snapping a selfie in his new uniform.

He was very proud of wearing it, and he respected the responsibility it held. All the days of training both his mind and body for this moment. And now at 27, he was ready to make a difference in his community. 

When he arrived at the department, he was greeted by new rookies and his new fellow officers. Most of the older guys were already around 40 years old, their faces stern and focused. But that didn't matter to James. In them, he saw the person he wanted to become. 

"Attention! Good morning men. First, let's welcome the new rookies!" The Chief barked. Their fellow police officers applauded, "As you know, being a police officer is not easy, right? But you’re here now. You’re the best of the best. And you must first learn two things: DISCIPLINE AND STRENGTH. Do you understand!?" 

"Yes sir!" James and his fellow rookies responded. 

“Today will be simple. Rookies, you’ll be paired with a more senior officer. You do what they say. You learn from them. Understand?” And so the pairing began, "And your partner, James, will be Alex. Be good to him." 

James nodded and turned towards his new partner. Alex was a 45-year-old man, tall, muscular, strict, and his face was serious. He nodded at James, and gestured for him to follow. James could already tell this guy wasn’t happy to have a rookie following him around. But that wasn’t going to stop him for enjoying his day. While James and Alex patrolled, James tried to make small talk. But Alex only gave simple answers, and their conversation stalled. But when the rookie felt the car slow down, he wondered if his senior officer picked up on something. 

"Okay, rookie, this will be our first task, got it?” Alex muttered, “See those men over there? They're breaking the law." But James was confused. He couldn’t possibly mean that group of black guys playing basketball. 

"Uhm...But Alex, those guys aren't doing anything wrong, right? They're just playing basketball, what law are they breaking?” James commented. 

"Are you fucking contradicting me?" Alex said angrily, his eyes blaring with rage, “Questioning your superior on your first day, rookie?” 

"No but-" 

"That's it, we’re going back to the department. Fuckin’ shame rookie. On your first day, really? Can’t even follow basic instructions." 

"No! No, it's okay! I-I’ll go break up the game." The moment Alex heard that, he smiled. 

“No you’re getting it, rookie.” 

The two of them got out of their vehicle and approached. James felt sick. This wasn’t right. 

"Hey! What do you think you’re all doing?" Alex barked. The guys turned around and saw the policeman approaching.  

"Yeah? What's up, cop? We ain't doing nothing wrong- just hanging out with my homies... chilling, you know." 

"Did I ask you to explain to me what you were doing?” Alex raised an eyebrow, “No, right? Clear the court. Fight back and we’ll take you back to the station." The guy's friends started to mutter while some of them had surprised faces. James just stood there quietly. 

"What? We haven't done anything that violated any rules. Leave us the fuck alone, pig.”

Alex’s rage was palpable. In an instant, he went behind the boy's back, grabbed his arms, and threw him to the ground. 

"Alright wise guy, disrespecting the law? Think I smell marijuana, don’t you? You’re under arrest. We’ll be taking you back to the station for questioning.” Alex glared at the other men, “I think you need a good lesson about respect. All of you do. But in the meantime, get out of here. We don’t need you in our town, got it?” 

James did his best to hide his disgust as he followed Alex and the young man back to the patrol car. James knew he had to say something but he stayed silent. He was just a rookie and didn't want to contradict his partner. And after throwing the young man in the back of the patrol car, the two cops sped away. Leaving the other basketball players in shock. 

Once they arrived back at the department, Alex instructed James to place the young man in a holding cell. James nodded, doing his best to hide his discomfort. As he led the young man away, he remained silent. 

“You really ain’t gonna say anything, are ya?” The young man asked. 

“Please cooperate, Mr...uhh...” James realized he didn’t even get this guy’s name. 

“Michael.” Michael replied, “So you’re...”

“Stop talking.” James replied. 

Michael smirked, “If you think this cell is gonna hold me, pig... well you’ve got another thing coming. Your partner is trash, but you...” James shuddered as a cool air passed through him, “Ya, I get you.” Michael smirked.  

“Whatever.” He replied. 

After placing the young man in the holding cell, he walked back to find his partner. Alex was sipping on a cup of coffee and looking all too pleased with himself. Their Chief was nodding.  

"That's what happens when you're aggressive with the law" Alex commented proudly, “This is how we keep the streets safe.” 

“It sounds like it was a tough altercation. The city thanks you.” The Chief replied, “And you James, excellent job. You stayed calm in a tough situation. You have a promising future ahead of you.” 

"Thank you, Chief....” James forced a smile, “Alex is a good partner. I’ll..." James continued with a smile but inside the guilt was eating him up, “I look forward to working with him more.” 

And so the long, heavy day passed slowly for James. And on the drive home, James couldn’t focus. Instead, feelings of guilt welled up inside him. 

"Did that really happen?” He mumbled as he entered his apartment, “That was fucked up, he wasn't doing anything wrong..." James mumbled, the feeling of guilt clawing at his conscious, "Maybe a shower will help me relax."

The rookie stretched and went up to his bathroom, where he quickly removed his uniform, until he stood completely naked. He sighed as he looked down at his badge. If you had told him earlier today this is how he’d feel, he wouldn’t have believed you. But now, he just wanted to relax. 

Once he was inside the shower, he allowed the warm water to caress his skin, sighing as he enjoyed the feeling. Yet despite that, guilt continued to eat away at him. 

"I can't stop thinking about earlier...” He mumbled, “I should talk to the chief tomorrow and tell him.” But the thought of Alex’s wrath caused him to shudder, “But what if I lose my job? I can’t..." 

James closed his eyes, letting the water run through his blond hair. And as the water continued to soak his body, his feet began to grow in size, with a few audible cracks. All the while, their color started to shift, slowly darkening from pale, to tan, to an ebony bronze. James was so relaxed and focused on the shower that he hadn't realized. Instead, he grabbed his shampoo and scrubbed his hair. And as he did, his police cut and blonde locks changed color. Initially, they took on a brown hue, and darkened further until becoming black. Soon, its texture shifted, becoming curly. 

“What would dad do?” James thought, barely noticing that the shampoo cascading down his body was shifting his skin tone. His once white skin now covered in dark streaks, which were only expanding.

James winced at an uncomfortable feeling in his chest, as his pecs popped out and filled with muscle. All the while, his barely noticeable abs jutted out from his stomach forming an impressive six-pack and v-line on its sides. As he stretched his arms above his head to scrub his hair, they started to tone up. His biceps and triceps rapidly expanding. His light blond pit hair grew and darkened, poking out as he lowered his arms. 

“Shit, I feel warm...” He mumbled, turning down the water temperature to little relief. 

His torso suddenly expanded and his shoulders lengthened, giving him a more athletic and sporty build, even compared to his prior physique. His once white legs also changed filling with firm muscle and rapidly toning. 

“Ugh... shit...” He mumbled as he felt his dick twitch. 

As he gripped his cock, it began to lengthen and swell in his hand as it reached an impressive 23 centimeters. And as it stood erect, its color darkened instantly. The young rookie massaged his new cock, while his butt firmed up into two juicy, firm bubbles. He let out a silent moan as his face changed. His European features quickly replaced as his lips swelled and his nose widened. Simultaneously, his jaw became more defined and masculine. His eyes stung for a moment, which he attributed to some shampoo getting in them, unaware that his eyes were now a rich chocolate color. Unbeknownst to him, his golden police badge started to shift and change, until it fell apart into several gold necklaces. They magically materialized around his neck.

“Fuck, I feel better after all.” He smiled, turning off the shower. 

He stepped out and grabbed his towel, drying off his muscles. But when he opened his eyes and saw the reflection in the mirror, he jumped back in shock. It was the near-identical reflection of the 20-year old black man they arrested earlier staring back at him. 

“Fuck! How’d you get in here.... wait...” He whispered, watching in horror as the refection mimicked his movements, "What happened to me!?" James shouted, wincing at the sound of his new voice. 

He slowly raised a hand to his face, feeling his smooth skin. And as he ran a hand along his pecs and biceps, he shuddered as he felt the firm muscle. No, this wasn’t right... He needed to... 

“Damn, I look good.” He smirked.

“Wait, what? No, no, no...” James whispered. That voice, that attitude... James felt a sense of dread build up in, “Michael?” He whispered.

 “Aw come on pig, don’t you like this?” James was panicking at the words leaving his mouth. And he watched as his arm moved against his will and he flexed, “I saw what you were packin’ brotha, and I know you just got an upgrade.” 

James shook his head, fighting for control over his body, “Stop, please let me go!” He begged, “I-I’m sorry... I didn’t...” 

He grunted as his hand dove into his pants, “You know what the world doesn’t need? Anotha fuckin’ corrupt pig.” 

James moaned as his hand jerked his new cock, its full length proudly on display. James was forced to stare at himself as he jerked off in his new body. 

“Fuck... Michael... please...” He groaned, “I...”

“You think you could lock me up? Naw man, I ain’t gonna take that shit.” Michael replied, the words leaving James’s mouth. 

“But... I... ugh, my head feels...” James felt a pressure building. Like his mind was stuffed to the brink. Memories that couldn’t possibly be his flashing. He could smell his mom’s comfort food, remember the summer heat growing up when he played basketball with his bros, “Wait... no....” He begged. 

“It’s all good, just let it happen.” Michael said, his voice becoming stronger, the pace of his hand around their cock quickening. 

“I... we... we’re....” James was struggling to think of himself as independent from Michael, “We... we gotta find our brothas, let ‘em know we’re good...” James whispered, still fighting desperately to maintain his independence. 

But when he thought about growing up, he didn’t see a little white boy. He saw a black kid. And when he thought about his father, the man that sparked his interest in police work, he felt... disgusted. He chuckled. 

“We ain’t looking up to no pig.” They said, a smirk forming on their face, “Damn, we do look good.” They continued. A sense of pride now filling James’s mind as he appreciated his beautiful black skin and muscles. And at that moment, they came. A pleasure so intense that it nearly knocked them off their feet, “Fuck, that was good. We... We? Nah man, I fuckin’ look good.” Michael said, “And I need to go find my bros.” 

Michael smirked, seeing the former police uniform now nothing more than a pair of Nike shorts and a black tank-top. He quickly put them on and flexed in the mirror. It only took a few moments after leaving the apartment to find his bros. They were back down at the basketball court, playing a pick-up game. 

“Oh damn Michael, looks like they let you out. We were worried, bro.” 

“You know you don’t need to worry about me.” Michael replied, “And those pigs got what the deserved for treatin’ us like shit. But enough of that.” He grabbed the basketball out of his bro’s hands, “We got a game to finish.” 

[bleach-your-panties]

ᰔℊℯ𝓉𝓉𝒾𝓃' 𝒾𝓉 𝓅ℴ𝓅𝓅𝒾𝓃' with ONYANKOPON on a balcony.

for my 1500+ 𝒻ℴ𝓁𝓁ℴ𝓌ℯ𝓇 ℯ𝓋ℯ𝓃𝓉. requested by @prettybraat.

ᰔhere you go baby, happy black history month!❤️💚💛

ᰔcw: modern au! fem, black reader. balcony sex, exhibitionism, panty-ripping, backshots, hair-pulling, scratching.

ᰔdividers by @/benkeibear.

ᰔwc: 2.2k

💗💗🍡°taglist: @enchantedforest-network @bakugosbratx @chifuyuskoneko @honeybleed @hoesluvshanti @chrollohearttags @darkstarlight82 @blkkizzat @bey0nseh @kokonoiscoconut (if anyone wants to be added to taglist, please fill out linked google form, thx!)

When your boyfriend, Onyankopon, or ‘Ony’ for short, texted you with a simple ‘get ready’ you immediately hopped up to pack an overnight bag.

Ony works as a financial consultant for one of the biggest banks in Atlanta, as well as a personal finance advisor, so he’s never short on dough and absolutely does not mind spending his hard-earned money on his baby girl.

You haven’t seen him in a while due to it being tax season and him working overtime at the bank, so you knew that when you saw him, you were definitely getting your back blown out.

As you were deciding which pairs of sexy panties you wanted to bring, your phone began to ring. 

“Hello?”

“Hey, baby.” Your man’s smooth, baritone voice filtered its way from the phone speaker and into your ear making you clench your thighs together.

“Hey, pooh. Are you off of work already? I’m still getting my stuff together.”

Onyankopon laughed once he heard you rummaging around in your room; who knows what all you were throwing in that gold and black sequin Victoria’s Secret duffle bag you loved so much.

“I’m about to FaceTime you, baby. I want to show you something.”

When he said that, you stopped packing and focused all of your attention on the phone - Ony chuckled because he knew how nosy you were.

The request to FaceTime immediately came through and you accepted it.

“ONYANKOPON!!”

He just chuckled deeply, “Not the government.” 

On your screen currently sat the finest version of your man that you had ever seen.

Now, Ony had always been fine; let's make that abundantly clear…

Smooth, flawless dark-brown skin, toned muscular body, tattoos up and down his arms and back (that were usually hidden by his business suits), straight white teeth, and don’t forget the inches that he was packing - eight and a half, to be exact.

Long, thick, and hard.

…but Ony with a fade and dreads pulled back in a half-up half-down ponytail? 

Oh, he must've been trying to call in for the next week or so.

“You went quiet on me, bae. Do you like it?’’ You were snapped out of your nasty little reverie.

“Do I like it? Babe, you look so fucking mouthwatering right now. I don’t know if I’m going to be able to make the drive all the way to yours.”

Flirting sensually, you leaned your upper body into the camera and let your breasts spill out of your tank top for your man’s viewing pleasure.

You didn’t miss how Ony raised an eyebrow and bit down on his lower lip, pausing before he continued,

“To mine? Oh, we’re not going to mine, baby girl. I made a reservation for us at the Waldorf Astoria in Buckhead.” 

Leaning back out of the camera frame, you made your perfectly arched eyebrows jump while bringing a hand to your mouth to chew on the tip of one of your baby blue stiletto nails.

“You did, babe? That’s so sweet of you, I can’t-”

Before you could finish your sentence, you heard a loud car horn honk from outside.

“Ony!! I didn’t know you were damn near almost here; why didn’t you say something, boy?!”

Tossing the phone onto the bed, you hurriedly gathered the rest of your things and shoved them into the bag before zipping it up. Your slides were on the side of your bed, so you slipped your matching pedicured toes into them and grabbed your keys off your nightstand.

“Hey, who you think you raising yo voice at, huh? Be good for me and come on outside, baby.”

—-

After climbing into the passenger seat of Ony’s navy blue BMW X5, he shut the door behind you and returned to the driver’s side.

You watched him carefully with slightly lidded eyes as he put his hand on the back of your headrest and backed out of the driveway.

Ony could feel you burning a hole in the side of his head, which made him bite his bottom lip again and send you a furtive glance while he drove through Atlanta traffic.

“What’s up, mama? Why you keep on staring at me?”

He knew good and damn well why you were staring at him.

You knew that he knew, because of the little smirk that formed at the corner of his plump lips as he held onto your thigh with his right hand and drove with his left hand holding the middle of the steering wheel.

The ride was leisurely, as all you had to do was sit there and look pretty, one leg propped up over the other as you scrolled through your TikTok feed. 

Ony moved his hand from your thigh to your foot, slipping your slide off and rubbing the sole of your foot.

“Oh! Babe…”

He just let out a soft hum of acknowledgment before turning into the parking lot of Seasons 52. 

Since Ony had made a reservation, you didn't have to wait long before a waitress came out to direct you both to your table.

This isn’t your first time coming here, but you still marvel at how everything on the menu constantly shifts and changes, yet always manages to always taste so delicious.

The salmon that you ordered was roasted to perfection; the potatoes just melted in your mouth and the green beans had just the right amount of crunch. 

Dinner conversation was fruitful, full of talks about your plans for university and Ony of the new investments that he was planning to make.

He held your free hand in his and rubbed his thumb over your knuckles while he sipped his wine and listened to you talk. 

His cocoa-brown eyes shined with love and admiration for you as you excitedly spilled about all of the classes that you’d be taking during the upcoming semester.

After you finished your dinner, Ony called for the waitress so he could pay then the two of you left with him guiding you by the small of your back to his car.

—-

Once you checked into your suite, Ony was on you like white on rice.

His large hands gripped you up, fondling your voluptuous ass cheeks while he repeatedly slotted his lips over yours in hot kisses filled with longing and need.

The cold links of his watch against your exposed lower back made a shiver race down your spine as you slowly lowered yourself to your knees in front of him. 

Ony looked down at you, meeting your big, brown doe eyes; immediately his dick began to harden in his slacks.

“Nuh uh, we don’t have time for that right now, baby. I have another plan for yo sexy ass.” 

He swatted away the hand that reached for his belt buckle and pulled you up by your bicep.

The suite Ony booked was almost as big as your entire damn apartment: two bedrooms, a spacious living area, a kitchenette (that was too big to be considered a kitchenette), and two bathrooms, both fitted with walk-in showers and whirlpool tubs.

Your nails clawed at the pressed cotton of his white dress shirt as he backed both of you up into the nearest bedroom. The motion-sensor lamps clicked on as soon as you stepped over the threshold, bathing both of you in a sensual, amber glow.

The curtain to the in-suite balcony was pulled back revealing the beautiful Buckhead cityscape below you, along with a navy sky full of bright, twinkling stars.

Ony began unbuttoning his shirt, tugging it free from where it was tucked into his pants as he finally allowed you to grab his belt and begin unbuckling it.

“Somebody’s impatient..” He chuckled as you yanked it from the loops and threw it across the room.

Once he was shirtless and you were down to your panties, he scooped you up and carried you over to the window.

“Wait, Onyankopon, what do you think you’re doing??”

He didn’t answer, but instead unlocked the glass door leading out to the balcony and stepped outside with you clinging to him.

The slightly cool breeze from the evening air whipped against your naked skin and made you press yourself further into Ony, who cradled your chin and brought your mouth back to his to give you another breathtaking kiss.

“I remember you saying that you wanted to try some different things, so here’s your opportunity, baby. Now turn around and grab that rail for me.”

His big hand went to the fly of his pants for him to unzip them and tug them down. He pulled a condom out of his pocket and began sliding it over his hard dick.

Just as you were about to do as you were told, you could hear faint chatter from below: a couple of floors below, there was a group of men and women seated at a round table out on their balcony, having drinks.

“Ony, there’s people out here - what if they see me?” Bashfully, your hands flew to cover your naked breasts. 

As you were leaning down to look at the other guests, Ony rubbed his dick between your ass cheeks, bumping it against your clit. A soft moan left your lips and your eyes almost closed before you remembered what you were supposed to be doing.

“They won’t see you, baby. They might hear you, though.” 

You heard that damn smirk in his voice, but soon you forgot all about anyone hearing once Ony grabbed your panties with one finger and ripped the flimsy material off of you, flinging it aside.

“Oh, babe!”

A loud moan was pulled from you as your boyfriend pushed the head of his dick into your opening. Your hands flew forward and you took a tight hold of the balcony’s railing as Ony started pounding you swiftly from the back.

The sounds of your ass colliding with his hips were loud throughout the silent night, so if those people were just really listening they’d easily be able to tell what the two of you were doing.

One tiny hand with those baby blue nails fell free from the rail and grabbed at Ony’s veiny forearm for leverage; his thrusts had your entire body quivering already. 

Soon enough, long scratches began to cover his arm as you tried your best to hold onto him.

You looked up at him and could feel him grow harder inside of you from the visual: fat ass bouncing back on him, braids shaking free from your bun, and your mascara beginning to run.

“Hm, what?” He licked his lips again but didn’t slow his pace as he just looked back into your misty eyes. “What is it, baby? Too much for ya?”

“Ony, I’m…” You trailed off as he suddenly picked you up underneath your thighs, his forearms resting in the creases of your knees.

“I didn’t tell you to let go of that damn rail.”

“ONYANKOPON!”

“And you were worried about somebody hearing you.” He laughed and bent you in half, still jackhammering away as you bumped and jostled against his body, 

Your upper half is now bent over the railing as the wind picks up and whips your hair across your face.

“Onyankopon, I’m going to fall!” 

“I won’t let you fucking fall, girl. Got too many muscles to let you fall.”

He grunted and locked his arms around your thighs, heavy balls slapping against your ass with loud, wet smacks.

“Hold the fucking rail, and hold that nut, too. I’m almost there. Gunna cum for you, baby; just hold still for me.”

Ony grabbed your hair up into a ponytail to pull it out of your face and also to yank your head back so he could whisper in your ear.

“You see that shit, baby? See those city lights beaming so fucking bright for you as I fuck your tight little pussy open?”

“Ohh, oh God! Yes, baby, I see them! Fuck, I see them!”

“You cumming?”

“YES! Yes, I’m cumming, oh my God! I’m cumming, baby!”

“Let it go then, baby. Go ahead and cum for ‘The Great One’*”

After that, you were done.

Your release washed over you like a wave; luckily Onyankopon was holding onto you or you might’ve actually flipped head-first over that balcony.

You both moaned each others’ names as your orgasm triggered his, bodies bathed in the pale moonlight of the night, surrounded by nothing but the stars and your love for one another.

—-

After that first round on the balcony, Onyankopon took you back into the room and the two of you went at it in nearly every area of the large presidential suite.

He even took you again in the shower before he washed you both off, wrapped you in a towel, and brought you over to the bed, wrapping you up in the covers.

“I love you, Y/N…my shining star..” Was the last thing you heard before you drifted off into dreamland, nothing but sweet thoughts of your handsome man on your mind.

—--

a/n: *Onyankopon means ’God’ in the Ghanian language and ‘The Great One’ in Ashanti mythology, referring to the Sky God.

get it poppin! 💄event ©bleach-your-panties 2024. do NOT steal, copy, repost, alter, or upload my works onto other sites. comments appreciated. reblogs always welcome.

[sunshine-zenith]

A thought — Ballister and Ambrosius’s relationship probably wasn’t public in the movie until the end. They probably weren’t secretive about it, given how Todd (someone neither of them like or would confide in) was clearly antagonistic to Ambrosius after Ballister’s jailbreak, but even then that just might be because their connection was well known — they liked each other more than any of the knights liked them, most being neutral overall to Ambrosius and outright bullies to Ballister. No one in the public seems to know about them

Media perception is a reoccurring factor in the movie, with the opening scene giving exposition in the form of a news cast. During it, Ballister is shown to be controversial, with a there being a few comments questioning the Queen’s choices related to him. Ambrosius is also brought up as someone everyone’s looking forward to seeing officially knighted, with no one questioning his relationship with Ballister or even bringing it up

While everyone is fearing and hating Ballister after the Queen dies, Ambrosius is still popular among the masses — people stop him in the streets to get his autograph. Nimona, who admittedly probably didn’t do much digging into Ballister beyond the initial news reports on the Queen’s deaths, seemed surprised that Ballister and Ambrosius had a connection. She even had an “ohhhhhh” moment after picking up on their vibe the first time they saw each other post-arm chop (and yeah she initially calls Ambrosius Ballister’s nemesis, but she clearly clocks that something romantic was going on given the “arm chopping is not a love language!” comment). She also asks if he wants to die in a (literal) closet, which like. Y’all.

Before the Queen’s death, all their PDA is in private (on the catwalk) or subtly around other knights (helping each other put on their armor with lots of heart eyes and lingering hands). Otherwise, their interactions are those of Two People Who Are Close but aren’t necessarily explicitly romantic (Ambrosius wanting to throw hands on Ballister’s behalf, teasing each other, Ambrosius cheering with the crowd). Granted, there wasn’t a lot of screen time for them to just be happy before Everything Went Wrong.

We can’t really judge whether they were private from their interactions after the Queen’s death, since most are focused on a “so this traumatic thing happened and I don’t know where we stands right now” vibe or have them just fighting. The three times Ambrosius says he loves Ballister, one was just the two of them on the catwalk, one was in a mental rant and not actually out loud, and one was while they were trying to hide their identities. Ballister continues to defend Ambrosius, saying he’d believe them if they could just talk and that the arm thing is just “complicated,” “part of their training, up until Ambrosius outright tries to arrest them (which might as well be a breakup without saying “we’re breaking up”).

In the comic, the Director says she knew about their relationship and that she disapproved. Given how much she manipulates things, it wouldn’t surprise me if she knew in the movie, and encouraged them to downplay things at least — “you should keep your private lives private so you don’t taint your public images/yes we support you, obviously, but you’re here to protect the people, not show off to them/you don’t want to overshadow things with more controversy, wait a few years until after you’re knighted/what if this is just a phase, it would be a mess to clean up if you go public now/people will talk if they hear Gloreth’s only current descendant, a promising young man, is being courted by someone they aren’t certain about who comes from nothing and can’t pass your genes on/you have each other, shouldn’t that be enough?/etc.”

We don’t see them be in a relationship publicly until after the wall — the symbol of fear of the unknown, systematic abuse and oppression, refusal to learn and grow, and let’s be real homophobia/transphobia — comes down and the Director — the one going to murderous extremes out of fear of change — is dead

I dunno. This movie is a large celebration of being queer, but it’s also about how queer people are demonized by society to the point of everyone suffering. Ambrosius is the model minority everyone loves but no one knows because all eyes are on him; Ballister is both tokenized and targeted from the moment the public meets him, having to prove himself over and over until the public unquestionably turns on him entirely; and Nimona is called a monster for just being herself. All three already had to hide who they really were. I’m not 100% sure if Ballister and Ambrosius were out or not about being together, but it’s not a stretch to see, and it fits in with the themes/arcs of this movie