#what if i just killed someone in front of you. what about that. what would you do about that.

[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: 20.2k (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

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.

“Well, obviously.” 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 not 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. “Pease 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 💗

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[rafesslxt]

✧.* 𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐍‘ 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐄 | 𝐭.𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐭

જ⁀➴ tik tok trend that drives your bf Theo insane

: ̗̀➛ warnings: none

"Oh cara mia no, the last one wasn‘t funny. Please don‘t torture me again.." he sighs frustrated.

I giggle and and pull him after me towards the table with all the drinks on them, the rest of our friends already standing around it.

"I am not! I just wanna show you a tiktok trend."

He rolls his eyes way too dramatic for my liking but I ignore it and smile when I see everything I need in front of me.

I take a wine glass, his eyebrows raising at the sight and he whines. "Oh noo don‘t ruin the wine I am begging you amore!" He grabs the wine bottle and holds it out of my reach.

"Theo! Give me the bottle, I just wanna show you something!" I argue, trying to reach the wine bottle and sigh dramatic too now. "Pleeeease.“ I look at him with the best puppy eyes I have to offer so he gives in.

"Please don‘t make me questioning your brain again. Please." he almost begs and lets his right hand glide over his face in frustration and fear what I am about to do to his beloved wine.

"You‘re gonna drive him crazy some day." Enzo giggles and watches what I‘m about to do like the rest

I pour some wine into the glass and grab the little shovel for the ice and put some of them into the wine. "No love, no! You don‘t put ice in your wine."

"And theeen you take some sprite.." i start to pour some of it in too now and swirl the glass a little so the two liquids mix.

"Oh tesoro, qual è il punto, è un peccato!" Theo starts throwing hands into the air and curses as If I killed someone he loves.

"Wait that actually looks good, let me try." Mattheo says, taking the glass out of my hand and and taking a sip. "Damn this does taste good!" he laughs after swallowing down.

"Oh stai scherzando!“ Theo groans when he see‘s all of his friends trying it too and actually liking it. "Baby please try it, I promise you it is good." "Oh no principessa not in a million years." he says disgusted.

"Fineee but you are missing out." "Please don‘t do this when you meet my parents for the first time." he begs me in a still frustrated tone. "No don‘t worry Theo. I‘ll drink my espresso together with my pasta like a pro." "WHAT?! Oh caro dio aiutami per favore.."

i would love to do something like that with him omgggg this would be so funnyyy

also i love short little things like that, should i do them more often? 🤞🏻

taglist: @sofa-couch26 @justarandomcanadiantransdude @helendeath @thatonepansexual2000 @imabee-oralizard @supernaturaldawning @auxcordlawd @itsarajr @hisparentsgallerryy @mixvchelle @ummmmmmm-username @belle-blue @beautywine @sagetakami @simp-for-fantasy @whyamireadingthis

「 ✦ for more: my masterlist and taglist ✦ 」

xoxo sarah <3

[creativewritersposts]

autograph session - Lando Norris

summary; Lando Norris x reader

How can Lando change the situation from enemies to lovers?

warning(s); bad language, angst, fluff, maybe grammar errors

author's note; I NEED MORE LANDO REQUESTS PLEASE I'M BEGGING :(

--------------------------------------------------------------

"I would never date someone like her"

This is what Lando said to Daniel Ricciardo after you were gone. You waited a whole day to get a photo with Lando Norris, talking a friendly conversation at an autograph session and when you walked away, you heard this.

Sure you're just a fangirl. But it hurts. You're not a model, you're not as tall as Lando himself but you're smart and nice.

It's like the world hates you months later - Lando Norris is sitting in the restaurant with his team where you work as a waiter. You need to pay bills, it's definitely not your dreamjob. He's definitely not your dream guest.

"I'm not going to this table!", you swear to your coworker. She's looking amused, she's the only one knowing why you hate Lando Norris.

"He'll not recognize you!", she supports you, laughing at the end of saying.

It's hilarious how you stand in front of her, acting like a child.

"Show him you're better than him", she pushes your body forward to Lando's table.

The team hears your foot steps and the attention is on you.

"What can I bring you to drink?", you twist your legs, trying to stay humble. You want to smash the menu card after lando's smirk. Reminding yourself, you really need the money.

They order their drinks and food, you're staying in the shadow without saying much words. Usually you're joking around, having a good time with all guests but you're not feeling well.

"Do you want to pay with the credit card?", you ask Lando without friendly manners. "I'll pay cash, thanks", he shows you his million-dollar-smile. Too bad it bounces off like a tennis ball.

"Thank you, Sir", you nod in the round, ready to leave, Lando holing your wrist, "this one is for you". You can feel cash between your hands, pushing the money like a reflex back to him, "fuck you, Lando Norris!". Your voice is hissing in his direction.

His eyes are getting big, his team is laughing but you couldn't care less, waking back to the cabin, ready to leave your last shift of the week. "What happened?", your coworker comes around, completely in anger what you did. "He can throw his cash in his ass, Mr. I would never date her!", you're frustrated. In this moment someone knocks on your door, "hello?", both of your heads spinning around. "it's only for waiters!", you warn this person. "I don't see if you're naked, I swear!", Lando Norris standing there and holding his hands on his face to cover everything. "what do you want?!", straight eyes caught him. Your coworker pushes you again, "Sir".

Lando rolls his eyes, his rolex is glimmering on his wrist. "what's your name?", he asks you. "doesn't matter", you don't want to interact with him.

"Did I upset you or why are you hating me this much?", he asks again, trying to make this situation a little bit funny.

You don't want to laugh with him, you want to sleep after a ten hours shift.

"Because you play with fangirls feelings!", you scream in his face. He touches his hair, totally chill.

"How can I change your mind, that I'm sorry?", he bites on his lips. He looks so god, you want to kiss and kill him at the same time.

"Leave the restaurant, thanks", you tell him your mind, you get hitting on your shoulder again. You huff, rolling your eyes, "everything is okay", you fake a smile. He says bye and leaves the restaurant.

You're thinking about this situation, even days later back at work. Yes, you had your reasons to be like this but he treated you not like grass unser his feet.

"One guest is asking for you", your coworker searched you in the crowd. "We're not a private restaurant so this guest has to wait!", you bite on your tongue not to say more you'll regret later, "bet you want to know who he is", she grins like a devil. "fine!", shrugging the shoulders and walking to table 10.

"Are you kidding me?", you're pissed to see this face again. Lando Norris in a smoking.

"Hi, nice to meet you!", Lando smiles kinda worried, his eyes are blurried.

"Wish I could say the same but here we are. We're not the only restaurant in this area", you spew fire. He plays with his crossed fingers, his head is down. "what did I do?", he breaths in. "What do you want to drink?", you have to do your job. Nothing more. "I'd like to order food. Just food", he sounds disappointed.

But you have to pretend you couldn't care less.

After he ate his dinner, paying and saying thank you - he left. He didn't left like joking, he stayed quiet.

"You broke his heart, girl", your boss comes around after the shift is over. "Whose?", "Mr. Norris".

This conversation hunts you, still on the streets on the way home.

Lando Norris would never ever go to a restaurant without having a plan. Or at least a reason. Your fan merchandise is hidden in your wardrobe, you didn't wore these things for two years like its a plague.

Next work shift you're tired. You could sleep on your own feet. What if he's telling your boss, you need to get fired? Just because your emotions you could lose your job.

"He's asking for you", your boss pets your hair like a dog and told you it's table 3.

Lando Norris. Again.

He might has vacation, shouldn't he win races?

"Hello", you smile, asking your typical questions as a waitress. It's the same like last time; he orders food, pays cash and wants to leave.

"Have a nice day-", you want to end his time in your restaurant, but he interrupts you. "I asked my menager if i did something wrong to you. There's nothing on social media. I have no clue-", he talks in his british accent. To be fair, his accent sounds cute.

"You told Daniel Ricciardo at an autograph session you would never date someone like me!", gosh. It feels so heavy to speak out this.

Lando's face gets gray. He's biting on his lip. "I'm incredibly sorry", his voice cracks and is shaky. So thin, it could easily break.

"What can I-", you talk between his sweet nothings. "You're a bad person Lando Norris and I don't deserve this. I worked hard to be here with two jobs to pay my bills and I'm not perfect but I'm good enough someone would like to date me! But you would never understand because I'm out of your league with your millions", you scream and leave the restaurant.

You're sure: it was your last day at work.

Nobody called you for the next week, your boss only texted you "take some time, see you in two weeks".

He destroyed you, now you destroyed him. But why does it feel so wrong?

You're watching TV, ice cream in your hands and the blankets is around like a coucon.

"Mr. Norris, how are you today?", the reporter asks Lando with the microphone in his hands.

"I'm okay", he answers with a sick voice, his face is not shaved. "you'll start from p4, are you happy with the results?", Lando Shakes his head, "I'll try to win, like always", "you want to send the prize money to a kindergarten, why?", ok this question is interesting.

"I'm a bad person. I want to change it", he gets weak and walks to his car.

You feel bad. So bad. Maybe you hurt him, too.

Maybe he's crying right now in his car, helmet on.

The following next week comes earlier than you expected and now you're here; in your restaurant ready to make some people happy.

"Lando told me you're working here", a young boy with aussie accent standing here. "are you Oscar Piastri?", "psst please be quiet", he hides his face in his hood.

"He's a mess. He did an horrible mistake and he regrets it but he's not a bad person. I swear", he strongly says. "Thank you for telling me", you smile lovely.

"He wanted to ask you out since the team dinner. He came back here after the race of Australia and he had a jet leg and almost slept in the next practice but he didn't care because he thought you're happy to see him again", he spills the tea. He's not angry, he's calm. "What should I do now?", you feel rude.

"I can give you his number and his address, he booked a hotel room but is too afraid to come here", he whispers because guests are walking behind him. You nod and take the phone number.

"Why is he afraid?", "you ripped him with words". "Bye", he says in a hurry and leaves.

You decided to walk to him after your work shift, a luxurious hotel room in front of you.

You knock two times until you hear foot steps. "don't need room service but thanks", an exhausted voice talks.

"Open the door, Lando", you're freezing your ass off. It's cold tonight.

"What are you doing here?", Lando Norris standing here with nothing but in just his underwear.

"Oscar told me", you smile. You don't want to hurt him.

"Come in", he opens the door and let you in. It's clean, just some helmets on the ground, "I like your new helmet design", you smile again.

"I'll give them away", "why?", "I'm a bad person and want to make it better for my fans", he sniffles. "You love this helmet", you argue back. He told the media he would sleep with this helmet in his bed because it's so cool.

He's standing here, broken and lost.

"I want to treat my fans better..", putting his head down. "oh Lando", you can't help yourself and hug him. He's one head taller than you and lays his head in your neck, sobbing. "I'm sorry I told these awful things", touching his back, running circles over it.

"Everything will be alright", you breath in his cologne. "You're not a bad person", you correct yourself.

"I am and I just wanted to ask you out", he cries in your arms. You're watching out of the window. It's already dark outside, cold air. "Everything is alright, Lando", you burry your head in his hair.

"I'm such a pussy", he sniffs and stops hugging you. "you're not", you smile and whip his tears away. In front of you is a good looking, inside and out beautiful person.

"I swear I wasn't talking about you at this autograph session", he uses a tissue and smiles. "Oh what is this?", you catch a beige hoodie in your hand, lando's name on it. "its my new merch but it's not-", "I'll borrow it until you ask me for a date so you have to come along", you wink at him. He giggles his adorable laugh, "okay, darling".

Darling.

I might fell for his personality.

[lovelybrooke]

Could you write a fic about how gojo met the reader? In the isekai au. This can be either the au from your original headcanons or the one you spoke about with that anon. Up to you. Alternatively if that’s too difficult could you just write how gojo finds out he’s extremely attached to the reader? (Also in the isekai au) if I’m being honest I just want a oneshot with the reader and gojo from the isekai au

A Long Forgotten Friend (Yandere Gojo Satoru/Jujutsu Kaisen)

So this is based off the many posts regrading the Isekai Au, feel free to read over them. I highly suggest reading this first, just so you can get the basics, because it might be confusing otherwise.

masterlist

---

Your body has felt strange for the past few days. It's like you were constantly on edge, teetering between wanting to pass out and wanting to scream. You didn't know where it came from, but you had a sneaking suspicion that being transported to a different dimension had something to do with it. 

You poke at the food in front of you, rice and some meat, but you feel as though you would yak if you put anything in your mouth. You suppress a jump as you hear someone sit down across from you, looking up to see bright blue eyes looking right back at you. The stare made you feel even more worse than before, not at the fault of him, but mainly due to how nervous you were in this very moment. You feel him studying you, intensely so. You knew who he was, Gojo Satoru, but that didn't make you less worried as his eyes scanned you over again and again, making you grip your utensils tight. 

"I-I'm sorry, I'm not very hungry." Your voice was quiet, distant even, and you're surprised he even heard you. 

He doesn't react instantly, instead remaining quiet, the only real sound being the sound of your uneven, anxious breathing. You couldn't keep your gaze on him any longer, eyes darting around the very expensive room, internally comparing it to your own back home. It was huge, sparkling, and lavish, but it didn't feel lived in, strangely cold for something that was supposedly a home. 

"You really don't remember anything, do you?" Your eyes drifted back towards the sound of his voice, and when you looked at him all you were met with was sadness. He looked defeated, eyes droopy and shoulders sagged. The once bright eyes were previously familiar with, were now drowned out by sorrow, making your heart sink. You placed your utensils down on the table and placed your hands in your lap, staring down at them as you contemplated your next words. 

When you first arrived here, in this world, you wanted to keep a low profile. You didn't want to get into anyone's way, not because you thought highly of yourself, but because you didn't want to get into any trouble. This was a world filled with sorcerers and curses, and you knew you could get yourself killed if you drew too much attention to yourself, so you laid low and kept away from people. But of course, that didn't work for long. 

You ran into him on the street one day. 

"It's you." He breathed out as he stared at you intensely. "Y-You're back." His stare was intense, blocking out everyone else around you. He whispered your name, but it felt so loud compared to everything else. Your heart was beating out of your chest, how did he know your name? You've never met him before, what is going on? You swear you've never seen him before, you made sure to not cross paths with any of them. So how did he know you? 

He ran up to you, gripping your arms. 

"Y-you haven't changed a bit, haven't you?" He let out what sounded like a laugh, but it was almost in disbelief, like he was shocked at your mere presence. His eyes were blown wide, and a small shaky smile grew across his face. This wasn't how you were used to seeing him, so...unkempt and confused, but so clearly happy. 

His hands tightened their grip on your arms, becoming nearly painful as you tried to move away. You were uncomfortable, he knew you were uncomfortable, but he didn't let you back away, simply watching as you struggled in his hold. People around you were giving you strange looks, clearly weirded out by the behavior, causing you to heat up in embarrassment. 

"I-I'm sorry, I don't--I don't" You stutter out. "Do I know you?" You question, feeling his grip loosen as the words come out of his mouth. You can almost hear his heart break, his shoulders drooping as his hands return to his sides. You see his chest rise and fall rapidly, and for a moment you question what you've just done. 

"I'm sorry, Gojo--I don't know what you want me to remember." You said finally, looking up at him, realize he never looked away from you. It was quiet, Gojo appeared to be thinking as he moved his head to look out the window. Stars decorated the night sky, it was beautiful, but you didn't find any comfort in it. 

"That's fine." He finally said, shocking you. He sounded more confident, nearly back to his original self, but it sounded more like affirmations, like he was trying to prove to himself that everything was in fact fine. You couldn't help but doubt him, taking note of his closed fist and stiff composure, but you had no choice but to trust him. He offered you a place to stay, in this apartment of his, making your time here much safer. 

Even with his words, he still felt distant, and you still ached to understand him, understand what you and him once had, even if it was all gone to you now. You wanted to know why he was so happy to see you, and you wanted to know why he was so beat up when you didn't remember him. Even if none of this is real, even if this is some silly dream, you couldn't help but be so intrigued. 

"--Just promise me you won't leave again." Again, he said, like this has happened once before. Your mind swarmed with possibilities, wondering what he meant by that, if this has happened to you once in the past. 

"I promise." You find yourself saying without even realizing it, and for some reason, you find yourself questioning what you just did, what you just got yourself into. 

Gojo's smile is the only thing to distract you from those worries.

---

A/n: I really hope this made sense.

[of-solitude-past-and-present]

Warnings: branding (of reader), as well as typical yandere themes like abduction, mentioned murder, mentioned violence, and threats.

There are also slight spoilers for the main quest (Idk how the quests are organized yet HAKDHD I didn't pay attention. But I'm at the point where I have to get to union lvl 21 to continue the main quest, so no spoilers for those quests).

ALSO HI LADIES here's your yearly fanfic. The drabbles are in chronological order. Its nearly 2.9k words total. Goodbye now.

Scar is a busy man who, by the nature of his work, can't settle down in any one place for too long.

It's what is keeping you sane, honestly. You only have a certain dramatic, scarred, card-wielding bastard on your couch (or, as is becoming more frequent, next to you when you wake up) for a few days every once in a while. His visits are irregular and unpredictable, just like he is. 

That doesn't make it much better, though. He seems to take pride in being a pest. Scar loves attention, and unfortunately, he's not above being annoying to get it. From monologues about the great Lament to asking you about tragedies that seem random, until he openly admits to being the culprit so he can tell the story, there's little he won't do to keep your eyes on him. None of it is anything that would be helpful to the authorities, of course, but there's not much to avoid talking about there. The Fractsidus has always made their ideals quite clear, after all.

One of the first things you do when you find him, relaxing in your living room like he owns it, is threaten to tell the higher-ups about him.

"Alright, then. Go right ahead!" With a seemingly carefree smile, he crosses his legs on your couch, feet on the table and all, and gestures towards the front door.

You narrow your eyes at him and back away, not tearing them away for a second. He snorts and gives you a small, sarcastic little wave and an ingenuine closed-eye smile.

Your back hits the door behind you, so you're forced to turn around to undo the deadbolt. Right as you do, though, a strange, bright red blanket of cards spreads up from beneath your feet, encasing you in a dome. You blink, and you're under a red sky on a desolate, floatibg island. Whirling all around you is a maelstrom of decimated buildings and pillars.

You whirl on your feet, and your eyes land on him, standing only a few feet away from you with one hand on his hip. A muted sense of anxiety thrums uneasily in the back of your mind. Your eyes meet his, one red and the other a dull gray, and you think you finally understand how a deer in headlights feels.

"Are you going to kill me?" Your voice is eerily steady and calm, belying the anxiety and adrenaline rushing through your veins. It sounds alien to your ears.

He outright laughs in your face and leans in close. "What reason would I have to lie?" he asked. "If I did want to kill you, I'd just tell you. There's nothing you could do to stop me." He places a hand on your head and ruffles your hair, undeterred by your instinctual flinch.

"Remember this. With the new Lament growing ever closer, nobody has the resources or time to spare to keep a simple civilian, like you, safe from someone like me." Scar's tone lowers towards the end with a dark promise, and his smile sharpens into a smirk.

He turns on one heel and walks away. With a snap of his fingers, the chaotic scenery melts away to reveal your simple living room once again. "Consider that a warning. Even if you did tell anyone, do you think they could do anything that would help you?" He looks over his shoulder at you, his dim, empty eyes flashing dangerously.

"Think about the price they would have to pay for your own desperation."

Night has long since fallen, but you're still out and about. It's not that you have anything left to do, it's just... when you go home, you're going to have to see Scar again. If you have to listen to another of his monologues, you might actually try to kill him. It's not because you're a little scared of him. Of course not.

(Your eyes still dart around nervously, jumping at any flash of red you see.)

You check your phone for the time, only to find it's just past midnight. Everything is closed, and you're really not sure what to do now. Maybe you should just suck it up and go home. The thought has you slumping your shoulders with a defeated sigh.

A hand clamps down on your mouth, and another strong arm wraps around your waist, pulling you against a firm chest. In a panic, you kick and flail and try your best to scream, but it's all futile. They drag you into the alleyway behind you anyway.

"Relax! It's just me," Scar purred, the hints of a laugh tinging his voice. His breath fans against your ear. "I've just noticed... You've been spending so much time out and about, it's like you’ve forgotten about me. Consider my feelings hurt."

Scar pulls the both of you into one of his all-too-familiar crimson portals. You try to pipe up with some snide comments or annoyed curses, but his hand only presses more firmly against your mouth.

"Ah-ah-ah." He moves his hand into your sight from your waist just to wag a claw-tipped finger at you before he places it back, securing you against him again.

It's only a few seconds before a wall in your bedroom comes into view and the red light of the portal behind you disappears. All of a sudden Scar falls backwards, pulling you helplessly along with him. You make an embarrassing, surprised little squeak on the way down, reflexively clinging to him until you both land on the bed behind you.

He lets out an amused little chuckle and rolls over, putting you both on your sides with his chest pressed against your back. He buries his face in your throat with a sigh and finally frees your mouth so he can hold you close like a plushie.

"I know what you were trying to do," he murmurs into your ear, a threatening undertone to his voice.

Your breath catches in your throat before you can stop it. "I don't know what you're talking about. I was just busy."

His lips dance across your skin, and you can feel his smile against your throat. "You don't think I'm gullible, do you?"

Well, dammit. So much for that. You try to look at him to gauge his reaction, but his arms only tighten around you. His face is hidden in your neck anyway, so it's a lost cause.

"I'm... sorry?"

"As long as you don't try it again, dollface."

For a few months, maybe a year (depending on the timing and your temperament) Scar doesn't think he'll need to kidnap you. You're somewhere safe, in a place where he can come find you whenever he pleases. Why bother? Besides, it's nice watching you go about your day.

Unfortunately, he slowly comes around more and more over time, making this outcome inevitable. There are two primary factors. The prophecy is the first; his free time dwindles more and more as it nears its fulfillment, and the idea of having you available at any given moment becomes a more alluring prospect day by day. Alternatively, you're too desperate to get rid of him, and he decides it would be easier to isolate you, away from any "pesky helpers," as he would put it.

Scar tosses the idea around in his mind for a few days before he makes his final decision. He won't even keep it a secret from you, either; he tells you this casually in the spur of the moment, in a bid for your attention. Maybe you seem disinterested, too busy paying attention to something else. Maybe you've realized his "weakness," as you might call it, and tried to give him the silent treatment. Either way, what you do can push him towards a decision a little early. He usually takes great care to reign in his impulses, but with you, he doesn't have to. An ordinary citizen like yourself would have quite a bit of difficulty getting away from him, after all. He finds your helplessness freeing, to a degree.

"I've been thinking lately," Scar trails off, clearly fishing for your response.

"You can do that?" It's out of your mouth before you can think to stop it. You almost regret giving him what he wants, but the opportunity was too good to pass up. At the very least, you can focus on the dishes you're washing instead of sparing him a glance.

He snorts, but otherwise doesn't acknowledge your comment. "I think it's about time we take our relationship to the next level. Don't you?"

Your head snaps in his direction. "The hell does that mean?" you demand. Your face twists in a mixture of confusion and slowly dawning horror, an expression the bastard revels in. His toothy grin widens, and with a flick of his wrist, he produces a card out of thin air to idly spin and flip between his fingers.

"It's been really nice spending time with you here, you know? But unfortunately, duty calls, and I can't always spare the time to come visit." Scar sighs dramatically with an exaggerated frown, resting both arms on the back of your couch. "It's such a shame. I'm sure you miss me, don't you?"

You uneasily turn back to the dishes, putting another on the drying rack and picking up a new one. "Not really. Don't you have any friends to talk to?"

"And there's the other point!" You refuse to look at him, but you can hear his footsteps as he leisurely saunters to the kitchen. You try to focus on scrubbing off a particularly stubborn patch of grease on your pan. "You can be so hard to deal with sometimes! It makes me wonder if all the effort I go through to keep you happy is worth it."

You furrow your brows, a frown tugging at your lips. The moment you move to speak, a red-tipped finger comes from behind to press against your lips in a shushing motion. "Now, now, dear. No need to tell me it isn't true." His face leans into view from over your shoulder with a smile. "Besides, I'm sure you'll be just as excited for this as I am."

"Excited for wh-"

Scar cuts you off without words, making the world spin as he turns you around to face him. Your pan falls with a clatter, and suddenly you're faced away from the window above the sink and looking up into his face, split by an ear-to-ear grin. His pupils are blown wide with excitement, lit up by a manic glint in his usually dull irises.

"You're coming with me. You have three days to write out your will and say goodbye to the people you care about," he spoke, his voice rough at the edges and trembling with suppressed amusement. His hands rest on the edge of the counter on each side of you, caging you in. "Try to run away or tell anyone, and I'll kill them all. Obey, and they can live."

Scar leans in so close that his nose brushes yours, with a stare so intense you would have thought his eyes were glowing. "We have a lot of things we can do with their bodies. Would you like to see what a Tacet Discord born of human flesh looks like?"

You can't tear your eyes away from his intense, bright stare for even a second. With slow, trembling movements, you shake your head.

"Now that's what I wanted to see." Scar leans in, pressing a kiss to your lips, only pulling away after a long moment. "Not so hard, was it? I'm sure you'll be alright, there's no need to be scared!" He brightens up in a flash, any trace of his previous threats gone. He licks his lips as he turns away from you.

"All that being said, I'm sure something similar will happen to your family in the true Lament, so it doesn't matter. But if it makes you happy, I don't mind leaving them be in the meantime." Scar looks up at nothing in particular, summoning another card to toy with idly. His spare hand rests behind his back.

"Isn't it boring how the world is stagnating?" Scar starts up again. "Chaos, as orchestrated by the great Threnodians, can create a form of equality impossible to achieve with our current status quo..." His voice turns fuzzy in your mind as you tune his droning out. Three days? Where is he taking you? What about your life?

You take a shaky breath, bringing a hand up to tug at your hair. Wasn't there anything you could do? All his talk of controlling one's own destiny flashes in your mind, mocking you. Would you ever see your family again?

You only realize that Scar has noticed your breakdown when he places a hand on your shoulder and pulls you close. "Aww, don't cry," he murmurs, wiping away tears you didn't even realize were falling with a thumb. "It's not so bad, I promise." His lips stretch into a facsimile of a comforting smile, and he strokes your hair in an attempt at comfort. He pulls your face into his shoulder, periodically shushing you.

You stay like that for a few minutes, and when he deems you suitably stable, he moves to lean on you with one arm on your shoulder, the other outstretched before the both of you in a grand gesture. "Don't worry, just imagine it. Wouldn't it be lovely, being safe and sound by my side in my new world?"

"Not at all. Are you sure you don't hate me?" You mumble, your voice rough and tired.

He rolls his eyes. "Darling, I could never. Oh well, I'm sure you'll come around." Scar shrugs it off. Suddenly, he snaps his fingers, and his eyes flash, as though he had remembered something important. "Oh, by the way, the rest of today is the first of the three days. Would you like to get a head start?"

Fuck.

One day, Scar returns from one of his excursions with a plan in mind. Without a word, he sits you down in the makeshift infirmary of his Fractsidus hideout of choice for the week. For once, he refuses to answer any of your questions, instead opting to gather a few medical supplies from around the room. When he's satisfied with the collection—bandages, ointment, and a bottle of painkillers—he sets them down on the table next to you.

"Did you get hurt out there or something?" You cross your arms and lean back in the uncomfortable metal chair. "Don't expect me to bandage you up." If that growing smile is anything to go by, he knows you're just trying to cover up your sense of unease, but he doesn't call you out on it.

"You wound me. But to answer your question, not quite."

The hair on the back of your neck stands on end. What could he have planned?

Scar isn't going to let you theorize for too long, it seems. He kneels in front of you, one of his signature ram skull cards held flat against the palm of his hand. He ignores you as you flinch away, tensing up, eyes darting between him and his hand.

"What are you doing?" you hiss. Scar chuckles in lieu of a response. His hand drifts up to the side of your throat, pressing his palm—and the smooth side of the card within it—firmly to the skin of your throat. As if reading your mind, his opposite hand lands on your opposite shoulder, keeping you in place before you can try anything.

With a wink, a sharp-toothed grin, and a faint flash of red from beneath his hand, he sears the card's image into your skin with a flash of white-hot pain. The rest is a blur. All you can remember are your cries as he presses your face into his shoulder, stroking your hair as he shushes you.

Now you sit on the couch, with a cup of (instant, but still) hot chocolate in hand and soft bandages around your throat. Scar crosses one leg over the other and slings an arm around your shoulder, pulling you in close.

"Why?" you ask simply, with not even enough energy left to look at him.

He hums in mock thought, making a show out of considering his words. "Well, there's really not much to it," he shrugs with one of his characteristic smiles. "I was just thinking of something more... permanent, today."

[hwanchaesong]

☞🍹Fourth Drink: A soulless, non-empathic, and unloving man emerging from a hurricane cocktail. Isn't it nice to tempt him? 🍸

🎧: The Weeknd - Heartless

wc: 1.3k

genre & warnings: fluff (surprisingly), angst, cursing, dreamies appearance, college setting, tutor reader x rich kid haechan, bullying, tsun tsun confession, implied enemies to lovers, etc etc

a/n: this is a part of The After Hours Bar series. if y'all want, you can read the other album inspired fics of other groups here.

You sigh and look at your wrist watch, annoyance bubbling up and you can't fight the need to punch the man that is supposed to meet you here in the library.

It's been two hours since the designated meeting time, and he's late. Too late and you're wasting your time waiting for him to arrive.

Just then, a commotion was heard at the front of the library, hushed whispers and a door being shut rather harshly confused you. But no worries, the perpetrator showed himself within a few seconds.

"Hello, miss." he mumbles dismissively, sitting in front of you without much care while he chews his gum loudly.

"Donghyuck-."

"Haechan." he cuts you off, leaning onto the table with his arms sprawled over it, "That name is reserved only for my friends."

You roll your eyes at his rudeness, "Well then, Haechan. Let me tell you that you are two hours late and I think it's only good manners for you to apologize for it."

He laughs mockingly, pointing at himself like he couldn't believe that someone is telling him what to do.

"Me? Apologize?" he asks, gritting his teeth, "Do you know who I am?"

"Listen," you moistened your lips, his eyes flicking down to the action to which you actively ignored, "I do not care who you are. But I care about the money that your parents are paying me and that I have to create satisfying results for it."

Haechan was dumbfounded to say the least, never has he been spoken to like that before.

He is the son of a famous model and a fashion designer. Most people would want to be with him or want to be him. People would worship the floor he walked on. Thus, he does not know how to act in such a situation where a person is not.. enamored with him.

You dropped the stack of books, notes and copies of worksheets in front of him, faking a sweet smile, "Let's start."

Insufferable. Annoying. Over the top.

That is how you two describe each other to your friends.

You hated him with passion. He must have some kind of god complex because how on earth is he managing to think of himself as a person that all people should respect and bow down to?

The only thing that you're thankful for, is that he's a fast learner. He is easy to teach once he puts his mind into it. (you have to call his parents so they can threaten him every time he acts like a stubborn child, and he says that it's a low blow even for you.)

The boy is not stupid, just someone who doesn't take studying seriously. Probably because he thinks that his future is already secured, knowing that he comes from a well-off family.

And you're breathing in relief the moment you realize that you won't be tutoring him anymore for the next semester.

Haechan, on the other hand, chatters about your preposterous attitude. The way you don't fear or ogle at him. Oh, he absolutely hates it whenever you mock him too. Rolling your eyes, whispering a snide remark, smirking at him rather condescendingly.

The smirk is given only during special occasions, and that is when you see the results of his assessments.

High marks and almost perfect, which means that your methods of teaching are effective.

As much as it kills him on the inside, he does admit that you're one hell of a good tutor. And maybe.. just maybe, you aren't that bad to spend some time with.

---------------------------------------------------

"Hyuck, you're not coming with us today?" Mark asked Haechan who was leaving the classroom in a haste, "We have no exams coming up."

"No," Haechan showed the test paper to his friends, the piece of paper hanging between his thumb and index finger, "I have to submit this to my tutor."

"So, you're not attending the party?" Chenle now inquires, looking at the older male with judging eyes.

Haechan sighs, waving them off, "I'll follow." then he takes his leave, trudging to the library where you usually stay at the end of classes.

His circle of friends look at each other with knowing smiles on their faces. Choosing to gossip about their troublemaker friend before leaving.

"I thought that guy's heart doesn't function properly. What a pleasant surprise." Jaemin laughs, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

"It's refreshing to see him like that though." the youngest, Jisung, comments on the uncanny situation at hand.

Jeno intervenes, pushing them all towards the door, "I haven't seen the guy with other girls ever since he met his tutor. What's her name again?"

"Y/N? L/N Y/N, I think?" Mark answers, remembering that one time when Haechan accidentally spilled your name when he was drunk, rambling about how your pretty face doesn't match your shitty manners.

"Well, I'm happy." Renjun mumbles, "I'm happy that he's down bad for Y/N. Finally, I have something that I can tease him for."

The rest agreed, all of them cackling at the joke but they can't deny the fact that he is truly, utterly, pathetically down bad for you.

---------------------------------------------------

Haechan did not see you at your usual spot, deciding to find you in the library space, thinking that maybe you're out there finding a book or something.

Then he hears your voice, but there are others as well. Leaning closer to the shelves, his inner nosy ass eavesdrops at the ongoing conversation.

"We're telling you, Y/N. Leave our Hyuck alone!" one of the girls shoves you, making you stumble a bit but you held your ground against them.

This has been happening for a while now. Crazy fan girls who want to get in his pants harassing you for the sole reason of being jealous simply because you get to spend more time with him.

You scoff, "And who are you to tell me what to do?"

"Do you not know who I am?" she screeches, his high-pitched tone makes you cringe.

"Yeah. No. Who are you again?" you say sassily, and you chuckle at her mortified expression.

"You bitch!" she was about to grab your hair, but luckily, your knight in shining armor comes in to save the day.. or you.

"I suggest you do not land your filthy hands on her, or else." he steps in front of you, voice low and his glare is dangerous.

"Donghyuck! But.. but she started it!"

"Yena, stop playing the fucking victim. Do you want me to actually tell people this stunt and possibly ruin your non-existent reputation?" Haechan announces, keen on making her leave as soon as possible.

The girl has gone rigid, mouth agape, and before she could say a word in, Haechan speaks again.

"Now, get out of my sight. You're making my eyes hurt. And stop calling me by my given name, we’re not even close." he throws an arm over your shoulder, guiding you out of the awkward situation and leaving the teary, humiliated girl in the aisle of shelves.

"Haechan, what are you doing?" you raised a brow, removing his arm and facing him properly.

He then smirks, showing you his test paper with a perfect score. Your eyes widen, a bright grin appears on your lips, heart swelling with pride and joy.

"Oh my god! You've actually done it." you praised him in a hush voice, clapping your hands quietly. "Congratulations Hae-"

"Donghyuck. Or Hyuck, please call me that from now on." he interjects and you were surprised for the third time that day.

"But why?" you asked, blinking at him in pure confusion.

"Because I said so." he side eyes you, scratching his neck and avoiding eye contact, "Also, you're coming with me to the mall."

"Why?"

Haechan groans at your never-ending whys.

"Because we're attending a party, you will be my date. No objections allowed. So, you're coming with me to the mall and we will shop for a matching outfit."

taglist:

@sunghoonsgfreal @yeosayang @mystverse @shakalakaboomboo

[amymaleneart]

"The Mail Service Trilogy."

Here's part three of the trilogy of @missterious-figure Wine and Feathers AU! Was going to do some sort of feather-care, but than I thought of something better. (*tiny evil laughter*)

Enjoy!

You walk down the long private hallway of the casino, trying your best to carry the oversized package addressed to Eclipse without dropping it.  Thankfully it’s not heavy, but it sure is a little cumbersome.  

You would have already opened the package to remove its contents, as it was a part of your job to screen everything that comes in for the stars.  Except the way your manager had pretty much busted into your office and tossed the package on your desk.  Then demanded you to take it to the “prissy oversized drama-king” right away, didn’t give you much of an opportunity to make sure it was safe.  Even though he did assure you that it is all safe and okay, he continues to yell and barates the most seeked after peacock about how he has been hounding him about this particular package.  Then he starts yelling at you about how the mailroom wasn’t doing their job and should have taken it to you in the first place, even though you have nothing to do with it.

It seems ever since you got promoted to becoming their main handler, the manager seems to take any opportunity to express his frustrations and anger out on you whenever they do something he doesn’t approve of.  Often when no one else is around.

You wipe away your incoming tears onto your shoulders as you try your best to shake off the underserved berating.  But there isn’t anything you can do to change that you guess.  As far as you know, there’s no one else higher than your boss besides the owner, and you know he doesn’t come here that often to be on any kind of name basis with you.  You also know that HR is friends with your boss, so best to just leave–“Omph!”

While lost in your thoughts, you failed to realize someone was in front of you as you collided into them.  Fortunately you didn’t drop the package, but instead started to fall backwards towards the ground.  You already accepted your fate of getting a nasty headache from hitting your head onto the ground.  Yet somehow you find you’re half suspended in the air as you feel then see a large bronze leather glove cradles the small of your back.  You follow up the well muscular arm until you are face to black and hot pink face of the giant peacock harpy known as Eclipse.

He purrs as his amber eyes drinks you up like you are his favorite cocktail.  “Careful now, my darling little gloaming star.  You could have hurt your precious self and then someone would need to take care of you.”  He leans in closer, “Although, I would be more than happy to take care of you anytime, my dear little handler.”

That’s when Eclipse notices how puffy and watery your eyes are, his demeanor changes from his overly flirtatious self to one of concern.  Of course you don’t notice this because you are still reeling in from being flustered.

“I-I-I…” you swallow, “I-I have a p-package for yoooooou!?” You nearly screech out the last word as he tosses you over his shoulder, like you were fresh kill, causing you to drop the large box.  “Eclipse!” You gasp as you try to hold onto his back without pulling at any of his orange feathers.  “Wha-what are you doing?”

He doesn’t answer as he bends down to pick up the box with his free hand, then continues down the hallway towards your original destination, his private dressing room.  

As you enter, you cry, “E-eclipse, please.  P-put me d-down.”

“In a moment, my sweet little honeysuckle.”  He tosses the package into his room as he turns around to shut and locks his door.  You’re not sure you like where this is going.  You know him to be the biggest flirt between the three of them, but you never thought he would outright kidnap you!  Next he flungs you off his shoulder into his open arms, holding you up high so you are face-level with his oranges, reds and pinks feather-framed face.  You found yourself squirming in his gentle embrace, having a hard time looking at his adorable face.

“Are you already?” he asks, his tenor-like voice entering into your soul like a pleasant evening breeze.

“I-I am f-fine,” you say, still refusing to look at him.  The last thing you want is for him to worry about you.

He hums as he continues to observe you.  You do recall that the name he had as a chick was “the watcher” and has developed these skills to the point you have no doubt he saw through your obvious lie.

“I-I was instructed by the manager to bring you this,” you say as you point at the package. “He…umm…said you really…(“Give that giant, overpriced feather duster his dumb package!  I am getting really sick and tired of his cocky attitude, thinking he owns the damn place.)…need it as soon as it arrives.”

Another hum leaves his mouth as his lips turn into a half-frown, like he smells a dirty rat.  He gently sets you down as if you were made of porcelain.  “I’m sorry, sweet thing.  If I had known he was going to give you such trouble, I would have practiced more patience if it would mean to save you from his wrath.”

You quickly look up at him, panic showing through your voice as you say, “No! No, it’s okay.  He didn’t do anything—” A gloved finger was placed on your lips, instantly silently you.  You stand there as you feel your face heat up in a bright blush that you’re surprised it doesn’t burn your skin.

Satisfy, Eclipse turns his attention to the partially battered package.  He picks it up to remove the tape to take out its contents.  He pulls out a large, rectangular piece of soft fabric that you quickly realized must be a king-sized blanket.  Your eyes widen as you see the bronze color shimmer against the lights in the room.  The large harpy takes two of the corners of the blanket into his hands to open up to reveal an amazing custom design of reds, hot pinks, blues, purples and bronze peacock feathers printed into the fabric.  It was almost like someone tried to take his tail feathers to enchant it into this blanket.

“I had asked the manager to help me order this.  Even used my own earnings though tips from the rich patrons to pay for this.  But it seems I should have gone to someone more…tolerable, for help.” 

Next thing you know, you are in complete darkness as Eclipse tosses the blanket on top of you.  Before you could say any sort of sound, you feel large hands grab and spin you around until you are tightly wrapped up into a comfortable human burrito.

Oh My Stars!  This is sooooo Soft!

Eclipse pulls down the blanket to reveal your star-struck face, causing him to laugh at how adorable you must look to him now.

“*hehehe* I knew you would look beautiful in my colors.”  Eclipse proceeds to pick you up, bridal-style, and walks over to his Mayan hammock he has hanging on one side of the room.  Carefully and elegantly, he turns and falls into the hanging breathable weave like he has done a million times before.  

“E-eclipse?  I-I really c-an’t–”

“Shhhhhhhhh.  Don’t worry.  You have enough time for a little break, my hardworking pheasant.”

He holds you close in his arms, ready to protect you from any danger that might come your way.

Part One: Done in an ask - Part Two: Over Here- Part Three: Here

[dukeofdelirium]

This has to quite possibly be the dumbest Anti-Aang I’ve seen on Tumblr. “Aang didn’t go out of his way for anyone”. Like that’s objectively wrong, factually incorrect. Like saying The Earth is flat, you can think it all you want, but it ain’t true. I ask you, I genuinely ask you, how can someone call themselves a fan of this show when they completely misinterpret it and hate the main character this much? This person’s crazy.

Aang never went out of his way for anyone? My god, if this take were true, Zuko would have been dead at the end of season one. Everyone aside from Aang was fine with the idea of allowing Zuko to freeze to death, leaving him to die. Aang was the one that saved him.

Holy shit, the first thing Aang ever offered to do with no expectation of anything in return was to offer Sokka and Katara a ride home before they died themselves stranded in the tundra. He then offered to take Katara to the other side of the world to fulfill her dreams. When he was banished from her village, he left without protest and even said he didn’t want to come between Katara and her family. Even when he was sad to leave because he had just made a first friend in who knows how long (seeing as we know he was ostracized at the temple), he still left.

He then came back not to break the banishment but to save their lives. He offered himself up, LITERALLY sacrificed himself for them, with no expectation of anything in return.

Aang is an extremely compassionate, good natured person. He is the most “altruistic” character in the show, followed only by Katara who comes nearly as close (one of the reasons they are so good together).

He singlehandedly put the fires out on Kyoshi Island that ZUKO SETS, he protects the NWT from invasion in every possible way he can and singlehandedly wipes out their fleet when he gives himself over to the ocean spirit, he demands they search for Bumi NOT because he needs a teacher but because bumi is his FRIEND! He saves everyone in the cave by making sure they don’t get fucking crushed with its collapse, he is willing to sacrifice himself and force himself into the Avatar State to win the war because he is that guilt ridden even when the AS is extremely painful and traumatizing to him, he stops this only when it affects Katara because he loves her, he offers to let Toph run away with them not because he wants to use her as a teacher but because he listened to her life story and wishes to help her feel free, he fucking dies for Katara and sacrificed his own love for her to save her life

he tries to shoulder every burden he feels on his own as a means to protect the other characters

he supports Sokka when he voices insecurities, he is welcoming and friendly to Hakoda and even inquires about how Katara is feeling when he meets Hakoda, he sobs during the eclipse invasion because Katara and Sokka have to be separated from their father again and Aang blames himself for this defeat and is grief stricken because he is so upset they are losing their dad again (and he thinks it’s his fault)

Why the actual fuck would Katara ever “choose” Zuko over Aang?

Katara was never deeply tied to Zuko. She always saw him as an enemy trying to take away the boy she loved. This is why she threatened to fucking kill him.

Zuko helped his sister murder Aang right in front of Katara’s eyes. It was canonically the darkest period of her life.

Katara’s anger and hatred toward Zuko is 100% justified. Of course, Zuko is a self absorbed ass, so he claims her anger isn’t justified and that she’s just projecting. Her anger toward him specifically had far more to do with what he did to Aang and far less to do with what the Fire nation and Zuko’s family did to her mother. Even still, she’s right to be angry about her mother’s murder too, and Zuko’s piece of shit family is responsible.

Why the fuck would Katara magically drop to her knees and suck Zuko’s dick? He’s literally a colonizer for over 2/3 of the show. He didn’t just have a passive role, he was an active player in the war and invaded the NWT with the FN as a means to capture Aang and take him back to his daddy, where Aang would have undoubtedly been tortured mercilessly and kept on the brink of death. He assaulted Katara during this and knocked her unconscious, he taunted her with shitty words and undermined her bending ability and threw some racial/classist remarks as well as some misogynistic ones her way.

When he eventually did get his shit together and join the group, he just used her mother’s death against her and Sokka because that’s all he ever did in regards to Katara and Sokka’s mother. He learned how she died, then had Sokka divulge trauma to then use said trauma to try and force Katara to forgive him by persuading her to go on a suicide mission of revenge and bloodlust. He also literally mocked Aang’s culture and genocided people to his face, when his family committed the genocide. Oh, and he also mocked Aang’s forgiveness despite begging on his damn hands and knees for that very forgiveness like 3 episodes prior.

And then at the end of the episode, Zuko states himself that he legit doesn’t understand Katara or what she needs in life. Cuz of course he doesn’t. He isn’t a survivor of genocide, he hasn’t suffered ethnic cleansing, he isn’t oppressed. For fucks sake, his mother isn’t even dead and he gets reunited with her a few years after the canon shows timeline. Everything Zuko loses, he has returned to him. His honor, his right to the throne, his mother.

But tell me again how Katara and Aang are a bad match when they are the only two who will ever truly understand the other

[miratastic]

Neither movies talk about Feyd’s darlings very much. Does he have any personal connections with them?? Does he take pleasure in having sex with them?? How often does he interact with them??

i see them as trophies. in my humble opinion, i think they’re the wives of his toughest opponents in the arena. he’s killed their husbands, left them as widows, and has taken them as concubines to further humiliate their family. i think they’re fairly new, he would have collected them one after the other forming his own little harem. feyd wouldn’t know anything about them other than the fact that he had beaten their late partners, and he wouldn’t be interested in trying to get to know them personally. now he doesn’t collect the wives of every guy he fights, that would be a bit too much. instead he only takes from those that got the closest to permanently maiming him.

i think he would have enjoyed having sex with them a lot, especially when he was a little bit younger. when he’s fresh off the adrenaline from killing someone, the guards would bring them in (sometimes only one, other times all three) and he would fuck them in front of whoever he’s just killed; doggy style with his pet’s head in the sand near the body so she can lap at the blood. fucking them in front of people especially is a sure-fire way to insert his dominance and his control over his pets and those around him. feyd doesn’t go out of his way to pleasure them though. he goes to them for his pleasure. he’d let them suck his cock, bounce on it; he’d use their holes however he wanted, drag sharpened knives down the harsh planes of their bodies. but he wouldn’t go down on them. he wouldn’t offer them the softness of his touch. the pets wouldn’t care for it either way; he’d hardened them, turned them into monsters that thrive off of blood and cum alone. he prefers positions where he doesn’t have to look at them. i think feyd would also use them as an intimidation tactic. ‘oh you won’t give me what i want? guess i’ll just get my harpies to eat your wife’s brains,’ or ‘obey me or i’ll let them have their way with you,’ (which doesn’t mean anything good trust me; his pets are borderline more fucked up than him)

if he were to interact with them on a daily basis i think feyd would go insane and slaughter them. they’re for fun. for pleasure. not for everyday. they have their own little room, and he’s given them the autonomy to kill whoever wanders too close to their quarters. he feeds them plenty of blood and bodies and that keeps them satiated enough until he needs to fuck something. feyd only brings them out in public public when there’s a particularly strong message he wants to convey. i also think that he doesn’t really enjoy fucking his pets. while yes they do everything he says, they were a bit boring. he only fucks them every couple of days, even if it means he’s more pent up and aggressive because he hasn’t been able to cum in a a wet hole.

[j23r23]

Getaway Heart

Tangerine x Reader

angst & fluff

Warnings: blood & vomit

Word count: 3946

You’ve been a getaway driver since you got your license at 18, maneuvering through the streets with audacity and precision that caught the eye of all the right, and wrong, people. For the past ten years, you worked alone in the shadows, carving out a reputation as the go-to driver for high-stake jobs.

On a rainy evening, the twins handler, a no-nonsense woman with a penchant for dark sunglasses and cryptic instructions, invited you to an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of Madrid. The place smelled of oil and rubber. There she introduced you to the two men known only by their code names: Tangerine and Lemon. They were looking for a reliable driver, and their handler thought you fit the bill. You knew the Fruits were renowned in the industry for being very good at what they do but were slightly unhinged.

Tangerine was the first to step forward. He was tall and lean, with a sharp jawline and piercing blue eyes that seemed to dissect you with a single glance. Dressed in an impeccably tailored suit that contrasted starkly with the grime of the warehouse, he exuded an air of sophistication and control. His voice was smooth, almost velvety, “So, you’re the driver everyone’s talking about,” he said, his tone carrying a mix of skepticism and curiosity.

Lemon, on the other hand, was the exact opposite. Shorter and more muscular, he had a rugged look about him, with bleached hair and an an unpredictable glare. His attire was casual—jeans and a denim jacket—giving off a more approachable vibe. In his hand, he toyed with a small toy train, spinning it absentmindedly as he watched you.

The initial meeting didn’t go smoothly. Tangerine’s aloof demeanor and Lemon’s staring put you on edge. Tangerine scrutinized your every word and movement, as if searching for a weakness, while Lemon tested your patience with his relentless talk about trains.

“Look, love” Tangerine finally said, crossing his arms, “we don’t have time for screw-ups. We need someone who can handle the heat and think on their feet. Can you do that?”

You met his gaze, your jaw set in determination. “I’ve been doing this long enough to know that hesitation can get you killed. I can handle the heat. Question is, can you keep up? Oh and the names Orange, love.”

There was a moment of silence before Lemon burst into laughter. “I like this one,” he said, clapping you on the shoulder. “Got some fire in her.”

Tangerine’s lips curled into a faint smile, the first sign of approval. “Alright Orange,” he said. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

The memory made you grin.

Right after meeting the twins you had your first job together and it was utter chaos—shit hit the fan, sirens blaring, guns a blazing and the scent of burnt rubber hanging heavy in the air. You were behind the wheel, the adrenaline coursing through your veins as you navigated the streets of Madrid with precision.

"Tangerine, we've got company!" Lemon's tone was annoyed.

Tangerine, cool and collected, leaned out of the window, firing off shots with deadly accuracy. "I can see that, Lemon! Im not blind!"

You couldn't help but roll your eyes, as the banter between the twins was getting on your nerves. "Would you two save the chatter for later? I'm trying to concentrate here!"

Lemon laughed. "Relax, Orange, we've got this under control."

You just rolled your eyes and literally put your foot down, pushing the pedal to the metal.

Tangerine, sitting in the seat behind you, clung to the door handle, as hes being pushed back by the force of the speeding car. "Bloody hell, Orange? " he shouted, his voice a mix of panic and irritation.

Lemon, in the backseat, looked even worse. His face was pale, and he was gripping the headrest in front of him for dear life. "For the love of all that's holy, slow down!”

You smirked, your eyes darting between the road and the rearview mirror. "Relax, boys. Let me do my job and i let you do yours" you said, narrowly missing a pedestrian who decided now was the perfect time to jaywalk.

"Relax? Relax?!" Tangerine's voice went up an octave. "We’ve got the entire Mafia of Madrid after us, how in hell am i supposed to work when you’re driving like a maniac!"

You took a sharp turn, the tires screeching in protest. The car tilted dangerously, but you managed to keep it from flipping. Lemon made a sound that was somewhere between a whimper and a growl. "If we die, I’m haunting your ass!"

"Hold on to something!" you yelled, spotting a narrow alleyway ahead. Without hesitation, you swerved into it, the car barely fitting between the buildings. The side mirrors scraped against the brick walls, sending sparks flying.

Tangerine’s knuckles were white from gripping the door handle. "Jesus Christ, woman!"

You chuckled, adrenaline pumping through your veins. "I got hired for my driving skills, remember?"

Lemon let out a strangled laugh. "Skills? More like suicidal tendencies!"

As you burst out of the alley and back onto a busy street, a car tried to cut you off. With a quick flick of the wheel, you sideswiped it, sending it crashing into a parked truck. "One down, a few dozen to go," you quipped, glancing at your handiwork in the mirror.

"Just keep us in one piece!" Tangerine barked, looking both impressed and terrified.

You sped towards an upcoming construction site, an idea forming in your mind. "Hold tight," you warned, accelerating even more.

"Oh hell no!" Lemon groaned, clearly dreading your next move.

You aimed for a ramp leading up to a half-built overpass. As the car launched into the air, all three of you screamed—though in your case, it was more of a whoop of excitement. The car soared over the gap, landing with a bone-jarring thud on the other side. The cars that are chasing you weren’t so lucky; the first few smashed into the gap, creating a massive pileup.

Tangerine looked at you with wide eyes, his breath coming in short gasps. "You’re absolutely mad, you know that?"

Lemon, still clutching the headrest, nodded fervently. "Completely off your rocker."

You gave them a cheeky grin. "But i got rid of them, no?"

As the car sped away from the chaos behind, Tangerines eyes still held a hint of disbelief. "Yeah, and somehow we made it out alive."

Lemon slumped back in his seat, finally letting go of the headrest. "Next time, I’m driving."

You laughed, the thrill of the chase still coursing through you. "Sure."

After a few more sharp turns you finally pull into a secluded garage. You killed the engine, the sudden silence almost deafening after the chaos.

"You two okay back there?" you had asked, trying to suppress a smirk.

Lemon had groaned, his face pale as a sheet. "I think I'm gonna be sick," he had mumbled, clutching his stomach.

Tangerine had shot him a glare before leaning out of the window, retching onto the pavement. "You’re a bloody lunatic!” he had grumbled, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

You turn in your seat looking at the boys smiling. Tangerine shook his head, laughing despite himself. “Remind me never to question your driving skills again.”

“Deal” you replied.

After that night, the three of you went through countless jobs together, facing danger with unwavering trust in one another. As time passed, your feelings toward Tangerine began to change. Working alongside him, it became increasingly difficult to ignore the way your heart fluttered whenever he flashed a rare smile or the way your pulse quickened at his touch.

The more jobs you pulled, the deeper your affection for him grew, and the harder it became to suppress your emotions.

And now, something feels off. As you sit in the driver's seat of your idling car, the engine's purr does little to calm your anxious nerves. The night is heavy with tension, the rearview mirror becoming your only solace. You glance back repeatedly, your mind racing through every possible outcome of tonight's job.

Tonight's mission was supposed to be a straightforward smash and grab. The target: a high-end jewelry store fronting as a money laundering operation for one of the city's major crime syndicates in London. Intelligence indicated minimal security—just a couple of guards, easily neutralized. Tangerine and Lemon were tasked with infiltrating, grabbing the goods, and getting out before anyone noticed. Simple, clean, efficient.

You were parked in the back alley of the building, engine running, ready for the signal. The minutes stretched on, each one feeling like an hour. Something gnawed at your gut, a premonition that things weren't going according to plan. You'd run through every escape route, every contingency, but no amount of planning could shake the unease that had settled over you.

The longer you waited, the more your thoughts drifted back to Tangerine. His smile, his confidence, the way he always seemed to know what to say to calm you down. You remember the first time he took a bullet for you, the fear in his eyes replaced by a grim determination. He had laughed it off, calling you a softie for worrying. That was Tangerine—fearless, almost reckless, but with a heart that beat fiercely for those he cared about.

You trusted them both with your life, but tonight, that trust felt more like a lifeline, taut and fraying with each passing second.

The rearview mirror offers no new insights, just the darkened street and the distant sounds of the city. You grip the steering wheel tighter. You can almost hear Tangerine’s voice, telling you to stay calm, to trust the plan. But the plan is starting to feel like a distant memory, overshadowed by a growing fear that this time, things won’t go as smoothly as they always have.

And then, like a thunderclap, the back door of the building bursts open.

Suddenly, Lemon bursts through the back door of the building, supporting a hunched over Tangerine. It's clear that this simple job has gone terribly wrong. As they stagger closer, you see the blood—Tangerine is losing a lot of it. You reverse the car and drive towards them. Lemon yanks open the back door, practically shoving Tangerine inside before he climbs in himself.

"Go, go, go!" Lemon shouts, urgency in his voice.

You change immediately into first and slam the gas pedal to the floor, the tires screeching as the car lurches forward. The doors are barely closed, but you don’t have time to worry about that. In the rearview mirror, you see Lemon struggling to put pressure on one of Tangerines wounds, while the latter squirms in pain.

"What the fuck happened?" you demand, weaving through traffic with precision.

"Tangerine underestimated the Job, didn't wear his west and got shot," Lemon replies, his voice strained. Tangerine just groans, clearly in too much pain to speak.

"You didn't wear your fucking west?" you scoff, your hands gripping the wheel tightly. "You always chastise us when we're not wearing one, what the fuck were you thinking!"

"Yeah, well," Tangerine mutters in pain, "we all make mistakes."

You maneuver through the city's maze-like streets, dodging late-night traffic and running red lights. The city's neon lights cast eerie reflections inside the car, illuminating the tense scene. The smell of blood fills the air, and you can hear Tangerine's labored breathing from the back seat.

"You better not die on me, Tangerine," you say, your voice tight with a mixture of fear and anger. "I’m not dealing with your expensive funeral."

Tangerine tries to laugh, but it turns into a pained groan. "Always… so considerate," he manages to say between gasps.

"Save your strength, mate," Lemon says, pressing another wad of cloth against Tangerine's bleeding abdomen. "We need you to stay awake."

The car roars down a narrow alleyway, the tires barely gripping the slick pavement as you take a sharp turn. You can feel the tension in the air, thick and suffocating. Every second counts, and the safehouse feels a million miles away.

"I swear, if we make it out of this alive, you're going to owe me one pristine car cleaning," you assert firmly, your voice tinged with worry.

"Deal," Tangerine replies, his eyes closing. Lemon looks at you through the rearview mirror "Just get us there in one piece."

You weave through the final stretch of city streets, your knuckles white on the steering wheel. The safehouse looms ahead, a nondescript building that has become your haven in times of crisis. You screech to a halt after driving into the garage, the car barely stopping before you pull the handbrake.

"Help me get him inside," Lemon says, rushing out and opening the back door. Together, you and Lemon half-carry, half-drag Tangerine towards the entrance, his blood leaving a grim trail behind you.

"Hang on, Tan," you whisper, your voice breaking despite your best efforts to stay calm. "We're almost there."

Inside the safehouse, the familiar surroundings offer little comfort. You clear the kitchen table with a sweep of your arm, sending everything crashing to the floor.

"Lay him down here," you instruct. "I need to see how bad it is."

Tangerine's eyes flutter open, and he looks up at you with a weak smile. "You always did know how to make things dramatic, love" he jokes, his voice barely a whisper.

"Shut up," you say, your throat tight. "Just let me fix you up."

As you rip open his shirt, revealing the extent of his injuries, the reality of the situation hits you like a punch to the gut. Four bullet wounds, two in his left shoulder one in his right arm and the worst is stuck in his right side. This isn't just another job gone wrong. This is a fight for survival. And in this moment, all you can think about is keeping Tangerine alive.

"You ruined my Burberry suit," Tangerine complains weakly, attempting a half-hearted smirk.

"I said, shut up," you snap, your voice tight with worry. Your hands move quickly, working to stop the bleeding. Tears blur your vision, but you force yourself to focus, ignoring the emotional storm brewing inside you.

Lemon stands by, trying to keep pressure on the wounds. He looks at you, concern etched on his face. "You alright?" he asks, noticing your tears.

You nod, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily on your shoulders. Each bullet you extract from Tangerine's flesh elicits a pained scream that reverberates through the room and it slices through you like a knife. But you steel yourself against the anguish, focusing solely on the task at hand. With each bullet removed, Tangerine's body relaxes a fraction, but his agony remains palpable.

Exhaustion settles over him like a heavy shroud, and he slumps back, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. You work quickly, stitching him up as best you can with trembling hands, the urgency of the situation lending you a sense of clarity.

Once Tangerine is bandaged and relatively stable, you turn your attention to the smaller cuts and abrasions littering his body. With gentle care, you clean away the blood, your movements deliberate and precise as you tend to his wounds.

When you finally finish, you look to Lemon, concern etched into your features. "You got any injuries?" you ask, your voice laced with worry.

He shakes his head, his gaze unwavering as he grabs a blanket and pillow, arranging them to make Tangerine's makeshift bed a little more comfortable.

You look at your blood covered hands and your mind starts to race,

The reality of the situation sinking in. Despite your years of experience you can't shake the feeling of helplessness that washes over you. You've faced danger countless times before, but this time feels different.

As you turn to wash the blood away in the sink, Lemon appears at your side. His eyes hold a depth of understanding that cuts through the turmoil in your soul.

"Not exactly the night we planned, huh?" Lemon tries to joke, but his voice wavers.

"Yeah…" you reply, forcing a smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes.

"You love him, don't you?" Lemon's voice breaks the silence, gentle but insistent.

You pause, the question hanging in the air. Tears spill over, and you nod, holding in a sob. "Yes," you whisper, your voice cracking. "I do."

Wordlessly, he reaches out, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. His touch is grounding.

With a steadying breath, you push aside the tumult of emotions threatening to overwhelm you.

You look back at your shaking hands seeing the sink run red as you rinse the rest of Tans blood away, the water swirling slowly like the tension in your chest. The room feels both too small and too vast, the weight of everything pressing down on you.

Lemon's eyes soften with understanding. "Does he know?" he asks gently.

You shake your head, tears now flowing freely. "No," you manage to choke out.

Lemon gives you a sad smile and pats your back. "It's gonna be okay. He's tough. He'll pull through. He's Tangerine, after all."

You look over at Tangerine, his face pale and his breathing shallow. The sight of him like this, so vulnerable, breaks something inside you. You sink to your knees beside the table, clutching his hand in yours, your tears falling onto his bloodstained shirt.

"I should have told him, “ You whisper, your voice breaking. "I should have told him every day."

Lemon kneels beside you, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears. "He knows," he says softly. "Somehow, he knows. And he’s fighting.”

The room is silent except for the faint, labored breathing of Tangerine. You press your forehead to Tangerine's hand, your sobs shaking your entire body.

"Please, don't leave me," you whisper, your voice raw with pain. "I can't do this without you."

"He's going to make it," Lemon murmurs, more to himself than to you. "He has to."

You cling to those words, praying that they're true. Because the thought of a world without Tangerine is too much to bear.

When the morning sun shines through the kitchen window, you stir, the warm light nudging you awake. You jolt up, immediately checking on Tangerine and relieved to find him still breathing, albeit slowly. His chest rises and falls steadily, and a wave of relief washes over you. Your body aches from the uncomfortable sleeping position, but you ignore it, stretching briefly before moving around the kitchen to make some coffee, the familiar routine grounding you.

Suddenly, you hear a faint sound. Turning around, you see Tangerine, though barely conscious, calling out for you, reaching out weakly.

"Hey, " he murmurs, his eyes fluttering closed but a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

You rush to his side, your heart heavy yet light with relief. “don't go too far" he whispers, his hand finding yours.

"Lemon!" you call out, your voice trembling with a mix of emotions. "Lemon, get in here!"

Lemon appears in the doorway, eyes widening as he takes in the scene. "What's going on? Is he—?"

"He's awake," you say, unable to contain the sob that escapes your lips. "He's going to be okay."

Lemon's face softens with a mixture of relief and joy. He steps forward, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "I told you he's tough," he says, his voice thick with emotion. "Tan doesn't go down that easily."

You nod, unable to speak, the relief washing over you in waves. You stay by Tangerines side, his hand still clasped in yours, feeling the weight of the nights fear and uncertainty lift just a little.

Lemon places a gentle hand on your shoulder, his voice soft but firm. "You need to rest. Take a shower, change into some fresh clothes. I'll keep an eye on him."

You hesitate, glancing back at Tangerine "Are you sure?" you ask, your voice wavering with concern.

"I'm sure," Lemon reassures you, giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "You look like shit."

"Thanks, Lem." you shake your head and make your way to the bathroom. The hot water cascading over you feels like a much-needed cleanse, washing away the grime and the fear of the night. You change into fresh clothes, feeling a bit more human, and take a moment to steady yourself before heading back to the kitchen.

When you return, you see Lemon leaning close to Tangerine, their voices low as Tangerine attempts to sit up, wincing with every movement. Lemon supports him, and you quickly move to their side, slipping an arm around Tangerine to help. Together, you guide him into one of the bedrooms, easing him onto the bed so he can rest more comfortably.

"Thanks," Tangerine murmurs, his face still pale but his eyes more focused.

"You need to rest," you say, brushing a damp strand of hair from his forehead. "We'll be right outside." As you and Lemon turn to leave, Tangerine's voice stops you.

"Wait." His hand reaches out, grabbing yours weakly. You look at Lemon, who gives you a knowing nod.

"I'll give you two some privacy," he says softly. "Call if you need anything."

You nod at Lemon before turning back to Tangerine. "You scared the living daylight out of me last night," you admit, your voice trembling slightly as you sit on the edge of the bed, Tangerine's hand still clasped in yours.

"I didn't mean to," he replies, a weak smile playing on his lips. "But I guess I did give that Burberry suit a run for its money."

You manage a small laugh, tears of relief filling your eyes. "I guess I owe you a new shirt," you say, your voice breaking with emotion as you remember ripping it off him to stop the bleeding.

"And i owe you a pristine car cleaning," he replies, squeezing your hand tightly, his smile widening.

Your laughter fades and you sit in silence for a moment, gathering your courage. You know that now is the time to speak your heart. “Tan I—” you begin, but Tangerine interrupts, his expression soft.

"Thank you." He looks down for a second, watching his hand play with yours. “Sorry, you were saying,” he looks back up into your eyes.

You blink in confusion, feeling your cheeks flush. "Oh, erm… you don’t have to thank me. It’s... it’s part of the job." you mumble.

Tangerine’s grip on your hand tightens, his eyes never leaving yours. "It’s more than just a job to you, isn’t it?"

You swallow hard, the truth pressing against your lips. "Yes," you whisper, barely able to hold back the tears. "It’s more. So much more."

He nods, a bittersweet smile on his face. "Lemon might have hinted at it before, but I’ve suspected for a while."

A mixture of relief and embaressement washes over you. "Lemon and his big mouth," you mutter, a weak laugh escaping your lips.

Tangerine chuckles, but winces in pain. You scold him lightly. "Don’t laugh, you idiot. You need to rest."

He grins despite the pain, bringing his hand to your cheek. "Will you stay?"

You lean into his hand, feeling his touch. "I'll stay." you whisper, tears falling freely now.

Tangerine’s eyes soften, and he reaches out to brush a tear from your cheek. "I’ve been feeling the same way you know. For a while actually."

Your heart races, and you struggle to find your voice. "What?" Tangerine’s eyes flick between your eyes and your lips before he closes the gap, kissing you softly. The kiss is tender, filled with all the unspoken emotions you’ve both been holding back.

Its a clusterfuck, but someone might like it...

[magicmanii]

yoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyooyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyooyoyoyoyo

can i pretty please request a rin x gn reader where rin is hopelessly down bad for them? (like he runs to pay for anything they want and gets grumpy/petty if reader insists/pays or runs to open doors for them and is honestly just all around pathetically in love)

BEACHY LOVE

🌺 It's been… like 7 months since my best friend has requested this.. I hope you enjoy…

🌺 It might be a little ooc Rin? Disgustingly in love Rin!!! Rin is a cutie patootie in this!!! Isagi is a little freaked out.. Also I haven't read bllk in a minute so I'm going off of what I know.. THIS IS NOT PROOFREAD!!!!

🌺GN READER‼️‼️‼️

🌺 WORD COUNT: 1,204

Isagi has seen a lot of weird stuff since he's become a famous soccer player.

He's seen fans flash their favorite players in a weird attempt to get their attention, he's seen opponents lose their shit after losing a match, he's even seen his own teammates get weird while playing a game. He can't really say anything about that though…

But what he's never seen before; in his seventeen years of life, is Rin Itoshi, one of the best soccer players in Japan (and also notably one of the most cold and standoffish) rubbing sunscreen into someone else's back.

I mean— helping someone with something without glaring at them or complaining!?

A shiver ran up Isagi's spine.

This couldn't be Rin. This had to be an imposter.

Rin would never willingly do something for someone unless—

Another shiver ran up Isagi's spine. A mysterious apple also fell on his head.

Unless… they were his partner!

Wait. No, he's getting too ahead of himself. Rin, Mr— “I have a stick shoved up my ass constantly” would never be able to pull someone! Especially someone so beautiful!

But then that brought him back to his original question. If this wasn't his partner, who was it!?

Before isagi could question Rin's and this mysterious person's relationship anymore, a monotonous voice broke him out of his stupor.

“Hey, NPC, can you move? You're standing right in front of the door.” said soccer player grumbled out while glaring daggers down at the now sweating Isagi.

“Oh! —” Isagi quickly moved out of the way of the entrance to the shaved ice hut. “Sorry.”

Rin walked in without even sparing isagi another word or glance, clearly focusing more on his task than his rival.

Now that Rin was closer, Isagi could get a look at his attire. And let me tell you. Isagi could feel himself getting traumatized again.

I mean— how couldn't he!? Rin was wearing neon blue swim trunks with flamingos and palm trees on it while also wearing a pair of pineapple sunglasses!

Who was this!?

“Do you have a staring problem, NPC?” Rin coldly asked when he felt Isagi's burning gaze on his back.

“What are you wearing?” Isagi boldly snapped back, not caring if he got a death glare because of it.

“swim trunks.”

“Wha— no kidding! I could tell that much! But why are you wearing ones with flamingo print on them!? And what's with the sunglasses!?” He questioned while pointing at the offending male.

Slowly, Very slowly, maybe it was intentional on how slow he was turning; Rin turned around to face Isagi, his expression far from a welcoming one.

In actuality, if looks could kill, Isagi would be, not 6ft, but 30ft underground!

“if you have such a problem with what I'm wearing maybe you should pluck your eyeballs out.” he spat out before turning back around and grabbing two snow cones from the smiling cashier.

“You should learn how to mind your business, NPC.” was the final thing Rin said to isagi, the pro soccer player shoving his way past the shorter and stomping his way out the hut.

It wouldn't take long before Rin would make it to his partner again. His partner in question looking up at their boyfriend with a questioning gaze.

“Rinnie? What's with the face?” They questioned while reaching out for the snow cone they requested, saying a small “Thank you” as they watched the other sit down on the ground like a pouting child.

“I ran into isagi.” He simply said, his blue eyes staring daggers into the poor snow cone in his grasp.

“So?” Y/N shrugged, looking at Rin with a questionable gaze.

“He had a problem with what I was wearing.”

“So what'd you say?”

“I told him he could pull his eyeballs out if he hated my outfit that much.”

“Aww Rinnie! You like the outfit I picked out for you that much!?” Y/N cooed while lovingly pinching their boyfriend's cheek.

Rin let out a soft grunt but didn't push Y/N away.

“You know, if you like the outfits I pick out for you that much, you should let me pick out all your outfits!” Y/N offered with a cheeky smile

Rin looked at his partner for a moment, his eyes softly gazing at their features: their bright eyes, their pretty smile, their soft hair..

Rin looked away from them with another grunt.

“No way.” He quietly said, a soft, almost unnoticeable blush on his face.

“What!? Why not!?” Y/N whined, a childish pout on their face.

“Because I said so.”

“That's not an answer!” Y/N grumbled

“Why not?” Rin teased while sticking his tongue out

“Because I said so!” They spat back with their tongue now out as well

“You're a child.” The soccer player scoffed, a small fond smile on his face at the sight of Y/N's pouting face.

This earned Rin a gentle punch from Y/N.

“You can go kiss my ass!” Y/N exclaimed before turning around and shoving a spoonful of shaved ice into their mouth.

It was quiet for a moment. All anyone would be able to hear would be the soft lapping of the ocean softly caressing the land before retreating once more, the sound of seagulls squawking away, and the gentle sound of wind brushing through the leaves of the trees.

“You know,” Rin started, successfully catching Y/N's attention.

“I have a gala coming up. You can uh..” He hesitated, a harsh blush growing on his face once more. “You can choose an outfit out for me.” he softly said.

At this, Y/N leaned in impossibly closer, their hand cupping the back of their ear as they let out an obnoxious “What was that?”. If it could, their ear would grow comically large as they waited for Rin to repeat himself.

Cursing under his breath, Rin let out a tired sigh before repeating himself.

“I said—” he started only to get cut off by Y/N grabbing his face.

“That I could pick out any outfit for you to wear to a gala!?” Y/N basically screamed in excitement, a smile running from ear to ear as they inched their face closer and closer to Rin's.

If it wasn't for the fact that his partner just ruptured his ear drums, he would've found their closeness extremely flustering.

But despite his lost hearing, he couldn't help but admire their features.

‘Damn them and their cute face…’ he silently cursed to himself.

Pushing Y/N away gently, Rin crossed his arms and averted his gaze.

“you're too loud.” He scolded, but his scolding landed on deaf ears seeing as Y/N was too busy celebrating their victory.

‘They're such a pain…’ Rin lovingly thought to himself while watching them celebrate.

[spidermans-l-o-v-e-r]

Orange Blossoms

Pairing: Buck x Reader

Word count: 5.2

Notes: WOW I can’t believe I have like nothing to say for notes like usually I can’t shut up here okay. Anyway I’m working on that other secret series that I’m really not sure I’m even gonna publish but I kinda want to move to marvel again who KNOWS

Chapter 2: Backpack, Backpack

Buck changes his screensaver immediately.

 Back to just a photo of all of them, because if Bobby sees that he’d probably skin him alive. He’d already all but threatened him to stay away from you. In a sweet, loving, dad-type way. 

“You go anywhere near her and I kill you” 

Okay, maybe he did threaten him. 

But it was probably just a joke, Buck would be the perfect son-in-law!

“It wasn’t a joke” 

How does Eddie always know what he’s thinking? 

“Does this mean I really have to stay away from her… because I can’t do that Eddie? I’m in love” 

They’re standing together holding a hose, it’s a pretty routine fire thank god it hasn’t gotten too big. Eddie moves over to the side and Buck follows him 

“First of all, you’re not in love, you’re infatuated. You’re not a Disney princess Buck, as much as you’d like to believe you are. It takes time to fall in love.” 

“It takes time to fall in love” Buck mocks him in a high-pitched voice, Eddie snickers knowing he’s absolutely right 

“What’s your second point, jerk.”

“Second of all, she’s Bobby’s niece. And he said to stay away from her” 

“Okay, but she's Athena’s niece!!”

“They’re married? And she calls him Uncle Bobby. Are you really getting all technical on my ass!” 

“I am giving the future Mrs. Y/N Buckley all the respect she deserves!” 

Eddie stops fully, turning to look at his delusional best friend. He doesn’t usually give em his last name. He must really be down bad for you 

“We really… need to talk about how you plan your entire life with someone after knowing them for all of six seconds” 

Buck gives him an incredulous look, like Eddie had never done that before. He kicks at him to turn back around. 

“I can hear the bells” Buck sings “well, do n'tcha hear em chime? Can't you feel my heartbeat keeping perfect time?” 

Eddie’s head falls back as he bursts out laughing, he nearly drops the hose as Buck sings the entire damn song in a silly voice, dramatically acting it out. 

He’s humming it all the way back to the station, he gets weird looks from everyone but he’s in too good of a mood to care. They tease him and try to get a rise out of him but he just shakes his head 

“Nothing you say will ever dampen my spirits, you're all just haters!” He sticks his tongue out at them 

“You’re usually this happy when you’ve got a date… so who is she?”Chim asks from the front seat and Buck stalls a little 

“Uh- no! No, it’s not a date it’s just… uh”

“Buck is talking to my cousin Alicia!” Eddie shrugs, as nonchalantly as possible “Yeah Alicia, he was Insta-stalking her so I just you know told him to…go for it”

“Long distance? That doesn’t sound like you” Bobby narrows his eyes and Buck looks at Eddie frantically 

“She’s coming here! Soon! To visit!” 

“Oh, that’ll be nice!” Bobby seems happy about that and Eddie immediately gets on his phone…he needs to send a text. 

Buck hears the rumble of your engine before he sees you and he’s already sneaking out to come greet you. Eddie notices him being shady and not finishing restocking the engine, so he follows him. 

Buck looks like he’s in dreamland, he watches you park your bike and take off your helmet, shaking out your long pink hair. The sun is shining just for you today he’s sure, the rays illuminating your glowing skin. And boy are you showing quite a bit of it. Your shorts are so tiny Buck isn’t even sure you’re wearing any underneath the sweatshirt you use for riding. You pull that off too and lay it across your seat. His eyes are glued to the orange cropped tank top and how cute it looks with your light blue shorts. He wonders if it’s difficult to drive with all your shoes, the white platform sneakers give you a little extra height but he still towers over you and that’s the way he likes it. 

“Hey, wifey,” Buck says sweetly, his voice soft and breathy. Eddie’s mouth drops open as he walks up to you both and Buck snaps out of it, his eyes wide as saucers as he puts his hands up

“No, god, no I mean… uh… hey wiffle ball??” 

“What” Eddie says under his breath, looking at Buck like he’s crazy. You bite your lip and shake your head trying to control your giggles as the boys lead you inside the station 

“Hey, volleyball?” 

“That’s… that’s not even the same category,” Eddie says, his face scrunched up as he puts his hands in his pockets 

“And you can do better?” You sass him, your hands on your hips. 

“Uh yeah. Pickle ball? Cricket? Dare I say, baseball?” 

“Wait, why cricket?” Buck asks 

“Because there’s a ball and a bat are you guys actually criticizing my thinking skills” 

“I’m just saying it’s kinda out there” You poke at him 

“Yeah, what are we? British?” Buck scoffs and you giggle when Eddie kicks your shoe and flicks Bucks's arm in pure annoyance 

“Why are you even here?” He says through gritted teeth playfully and you laugh, side-bumping him.

“Athena asked me to deliver some paperwork Bobby forgot to fill out” 

“Oh doesn’t she usually do that?” Buck tilts his head and wow he looks cute when he does that. You blush a little and look at your shoes for a second 

“Yeah, but she said I might have more fun” 

“Uh I walked in on them last time” Eddie gags “I don’t think you’ll have more fun”

“I mean she could, I know a great closet” 

Buck just says it, it’s a good joke, a great joke. Your mouth falls open and Eddie slaps his hand over his mouth gleefully 

“Oh my god” 

Buck looks confused for a second “Wha…” His eyes widen and he puts his hands out “Wait no! No, I was kidding! Well, I mean if you-“ He smirks, running his hand through his hair 

“Buck!” Eddie shouts 

You’re all out laughing now as Buck turns a wonderful shade of red 

“I just- I mean it’s not off limits you know it- guys shut up!!! It was a joke!” 

“What was a joke?” Bobby comes over, confused as to why you’re here and why Buck is trying to find the nearest ax 

“Pickleball” Eddie blurts out and you nearly keel over, wheezing. His excuses were not his best today. 

“We uh we gotta go” Eddie grabs Buck, who is holding his head in his hands whining loudly, and drags him away 

“Bye Y/N! See you later!”

Bobby watches them run away, his eyebrow raised 

“You’re not talking to either of them are you?” He asks and you roll your eyes and wipe at the little tears 

“No… we’re just friends Bobby. And they’re nice! I like hanging out with them”

“You’ve gone out with them?” He crosses his arms over his chest and you blush lightly 

“Uh… yeah? J- just to hang out and get to know them. I don’t have any friends in L.A Bobby you know that”

“You have May! She’s a great girl! She can introduce you to all of her friends”

“Bobby, we barely know each other anymore. We haven’t done anything together since we were literal children. And you know, whilst she has offered to take me out next weekend and introduce me to her friends, she and I have already decided that I’m not sticking around that friend group unless it’s an occasional hangout. Those are her friends and her life. So until she and I get closer…neither of us are letting you and Athena force us together.”

Bobby looks at you, struggling for words. He puts his hands on his hips sassily

“You know. You two don’t have to make that much sense. Just- I love Buck and Eddie don’t get me wrong. They’re my kids! But promise me you’ll be careful. Because if someone asked me who I would let my kid date from the team I would absolutely say none of these people” 

You giggle and hand him the papers from Athena, standing on your toes you kiss his cheek and wave goodbye 

“I promise I’ll be careful! We’re all just friends!” 

You walk back outside, a little skip in your step as you walk up to your bike. Buck and Eddie are standing next to it 

“You wanna sit on it?” You call you and Buck fist pumps, eagerly climbing on 

“I was hoping you’d say that!” 

You strut over and stand in front of them as Buck leans forward, pretending to be driving. He makes little car noises and you laugh, your hands behind your back 

“Having fun?” You muse and he sits up 

“Uh- yes. What kind of question is that” he scoffs and you roll your eyes 

“You wanna take her for a spin?” You ask coyly and Buck’s mouth drops open 

“Wait seriously? You’d let me?” 

“Of course, I would! I trust you” 

He starts it up, groaning as it purrs for him. He pats the handlebars and you hand him your helmet 

“Hey,, Buck?” Eddie pokes at his shoulder and he looks up

“Yes, bestie”

“We’re literally in the middle of a shift” 

“I’m sorry I can’t understand your accent. It’s too Texasy” 

“I literally don’t-“

“Buck! Get off that thing! You’re at work” Bobby yells at him from the bay doors and he groans loudly, getting off and handing you back your helmet. You take it from him, giggling and shaking your head 

“Maybe some other time… like this weekend or something! Afterwards, we go bowling with Eddie!” 

Eddie looks between the two of you “We’re going bowling?” 

Bucks behind you, signaling him frantically to say no.

“Yeah! Didn’t Buck ask you?” 

Buck clasps his hands together silently begging Eddie

“Ohhh… uh.. yeah! Yeah, I just totally forgot. Um yeah, I can go bowling this weekend!” 

Buck's mouth drops open and he mimes choking Eddie, you spin around and his hands drop to his sides as he smiles at you sweetly 

“Okay cool!! Well, I’ll see you guys this weekend!” You hop on your bike and Buck helps you put your helmet on. He shyly leans in and kisses the top of it 

“Uh- drive safe! Text me when you know you get wherever you’re going. If you want to that is I mean you don’t have to… you’ll probably text like Athena or Bobby or something yeah yeah you don’t have to text me it’s cool”

He steps back from the bike and you shake your head and he knows you’re laughing at him again. You make a little heart with your hands and wave goodbye to them before driving off.

Buck watches you drive off, your sweatshirt fluttering in the wind. He watches until he can’t see you anymore with his hands in his pockets he turns to Eddie 

“I’ll give you a five-second head start”

“Buck. That’s childish can you just-“

“Five”

“Buck, let me explain! When have I never not had a plan come on!”

“Four”

“Buck you can’t be alone with her yet you-“

“Three-two-one!” He shouts and dives for Eddie. Eddie screams and runs towards the station with Buck hot on his heels. He runs around the truck and dodges Hen with a spin 

“That’s cheating and you know it!!”

“Cheating my ass!”

“What on god's green earth are the two of you doing?!” Bobby calls down from the balcony 

“Nothing!” They yell in unison as they run around the station. 

“That doesn’t look like nothing”

“It’s a new training exercise! Just working on stamina!” Eddie yells back, yelping when he feels Buck’s hand brush his belt 

“That the lamest excuse you’ve ever come up with” Hen mumbles as they run past her again 

“Don’t be a snitch” Buck pants and she puts her hands in the air, staying out of their mess

Eventually, Buck corners him, and they’re in the sleeping quarters 

“I’m-“ Buck's hands are on his knees “I’m gonna kick your ass-“ He wheezes “when I can breathe again”

Eddie slumps down in the corner, letting his head fall against the cool wall

“Not if we die first” He pants heavily, running his hands through his hair 

Okay, maybe Buck didn’t think this thing through how is he supposed to kill Eddie if he passes out from lack of oxygen? They take a good six or so minutes to breathe normally again 

“I said yes so that way she could say she was going with both of us not just one of us and then I’d cancel or show up and just say my arm or like back or whatever was hurting so I could just sit back and keep score.”

Buck is laid out on the floor, he looks over at Eddie, his nose scrunched up 

“Wait, why didn’t you just say that?”

Buck has been staring at the picture you sent him for the last 20 minutes. You’re standing in the full-length mirror at Athena’s house, a little peace sign. You texted him as soon as you got home and after that picture boy does he wish he was better friends with May, he knows she’d “invite” him over. 

He knows it’s just… a little pervy, the way he stares at your thighs in the full-length mirror. He thinks that’s his favorite physical thing about you. Your full, plush thighs, especially in those mini skirts you just love to wear. And these shorts you’re wearing are absolutely no exception. They hug your body like they were tailored to fit you. Actually, he’s pretty sure they are tailored. 

He sighs dreamily hitting the favorites button

“Is that Y/N” 

He jumps so far out of his seat that he fumbles with his phone before slamming it awkwardly into the table 

“Did you just break your phone?!” Hen stares at him 

“I sure as hell hope not! What uh what can I do for you? Need somethin? A smoothie? You want a smoothie I’m gonna make you a smoothie” he runs over to the fridge and starts pulling things out. Hen picks up his phone, looking it over, and thank god it’s not cracked. 

“You didn’t answer my question,” She says, taking his seat and holding out his phone to him. 

“Uh, what question?” He turns on the blender, miming that he can’t hear and Hen crosses her arms over her chest, giving him a look. He smiles sheepishly once it shuts off and pours her smoothie 

“Y-yeah that was her.” He unlocks his phone and hands it over with the smoothie 

“Damn”

“I know!!” Buck squeals he’d joked about proudly showing you off to his coworkers and now he’s actually doing it. 

“She’s a nice girl… Cap knows you’re texting her?” 

“No and neither do you” Buck goes over to his “secret cabinet” pulls out one of his good mini chocolate bars and hands it to Hen. She takes it from him, opens it up, and takes a bite out. She groans softly and her eyes roll back. He always keeps those fully locked up 

“Right?”

“Right.” Hen gives him a double thumbs up and grabs her smoothie

After making sure Hen is gonna stay quiet Buck goes downstairs, there’s literally nothing to do, he’s checked off his entire list and even did the end of Eddie’s. If he’s this bored… Hopefully, someone else is.

“Hello?” You answer on the third ring and he gulps and then clears his throat 

“Uh hey! Hey Y/N it’s me, Buck” 

“I know” you giggle “What’s up?” 

“Oh…nothin just wanted to see if you were busy or anything…kinda boring around here”

“Did you call me just to talk?” You ask and his cheeks flush. Because yeah but like that sounds lame he could have just texted you. 

“…Maybe?” His voice is hesitant and cracks a little. Oh my god why was that happening so freaking much 

“That’s really cute” You laugh and he hears you rustling around for a minute. “Athena is sending me back out on an errand run with May… but we can text! If you wanted” 

“Yeah no! No texting is fine! I should have probably asked if you were busy first… I’m yeah no I’m sorry we can text”

“No it’s okay, I…like hearing your voice” You mutter shyly and he can hear May snickering in the background. His cheeks flush and he bites his lip 

“You do?” 

“Y-yeah I do” 

“Well good… I like hearing yours too, like, a lot” He admits, his heart is pounding in his chest 

“I have to go but, call me back tonight okay? Like…around midnight? When um-“

“When Bobby is asleep?” He says mischievously and it’s your turn to blush 

“Yeah… will you?” He can hear the hesitancy in your voice and it makes him weak, he just wants to kiss you breathless so badly. 

“It’s a date. I’ll talk to you later doll” 

“You better text me too, Bye Evan”

He hears May teasing you as you curse at her and hang up, he holds his phone to his chest, wilting into his seat and sighing sweetly. Midnight can’t come fast enough. 

The rest of the day drags and not just because he’s waiting to get off but because there’s literally nothing to do, which is the most surprising part. Really he supposes he should be glad nothing is happening, that means people are safe… besides 

It just gives him more time to talk to you. 

And boy does he, he starts slow with his memes, you have to kinda ease people into your insanity. But the second you send an Optimus Prime thirst trap on TikTok all decency and manners fly out the window and you’re both trying to send each other the worst things you’ve ever seen 

He’s falling faster and faster for you. Just call him Princess Buck. 

“What are you laughing at?” Eddie comes over, lifting Bucks legs up and plopping on the couch with him

“Um…nothin” he mumbles, distracted as he laughs into his fist at the Nick Fox thirst trap he’s sending you “don’t worry I’ve been sending them to you too”

“I already regret being your friend. Who else did you send them to?” He toys with Buck’s pant leg 

“Um… Y/N we’re just…talking” 

Eddie hears the click of a camera and he frowns, looking at Buck who shrugs and doesn’t look away from his phone 

“We’re also snapping” 

“Snapping? You sound like a teenager” He chuckles but puts his feet up on the coffee table and scrolls through his phone too 

“Teens use Instagram nowadays, old ass man. I asked for her snap just to see pictures of her, I just- god hold on” 

He pulls up the picture from earlier and hands his phone over. Eddie lets out a low whistle and Buck wriggles on the couch 

“God I know right! I don’t care if she suffocates me, I’d die happily” He says and Eddie laughs at him, his head falling back on the couch 

“Yeah. You know a closet” 

Buck groans and slaps his hands over his face 

“I can’t believe I said that to her” 

“She thought it was funny” 

“Okay but low-key? I wish she would have like said bet or something”

“I’m pretty sure you would have passed out” 

“Oh I know I would have and she could have given me mouth to mouth”

Eddie rolls his eyes, laughing at Buck again 

“You’ve got it bad my man” 

“Oh you have no damn idea” 

It’s around 10pm when a call comes in, and Buck is always too distracted by the voice message you sent him to get his stuff on. Eddie swipes the phone from his hands and glares at him, He blushes and gets his stuff on almost faster than he ever has and snatches it back, patting Eddie on the cheek before they load into the truck 

“Apparently a bonfire in a kids backyard got a bit out of hand, everyone be ready to possibly have to cut line but there should already be another team there doing it. Be advised the house is on fire but it’s small for now”

Athena is already there, with a few drunk people in her backseat. She’s talking to someone quite animatedly, her voice is low. 

“Everything oka- May??” Bobby stops, looking between them. Athena stands back, her hands on her hips

“Where’s Y/N?” He asks immediately and May sighs loudly 

“I don’t know. I’ve tried to say it a million times I don’t know! The fire broke out and we got separated!” 

“I’ve tried contacting her but she isn’t answering” Athena looks like she’s ready to rip her hair out. Bobby puts his hands on her shoulders, his voice is full of worry as he kisses her forehead 

“Hey, we’re gonna find her okay? I promise” 

“She’s here for a couple days and I’ve already lost her.”

“You didn’t lose her mom, I did. I should have kept a better eye on her! But she said she’d be okay! And Crystal wanted to show me something and-“ She starts up and Athena sighs, hugging her

“It’s not your fault baby, Y/N is an adult. You were both right, she can take care of herself”

Bobby walks over to Eddie and Buck who are hosing down a section of the yard 

“You two have Y/N’s number right? Can you call her real quick?”

“Uh, yeah sure.” Buck shrugs and pulls out his phone, it takes a second with all his stuff on. 

Bobby takes the hose from him and stands behind Eddie

“Everything okay?” Eddie asks, looking back at him and he shrugs 

“Yeah… just uh. Just call, Buck” 

It rings six times which is the longest its ever taken you to answer 

“Hello?” Your voice is so small it takes him aback. 

“Uh hey, hey Y/N”

Bobby perks up, motioning to keep her talking 

“Where- where are you? You sound funny” He walks away a little, so he can hear you better 

“I’m-” you hesitate and Bucks anxiety skyrockets

“I’m a firefighter Y/N, you can tell me anything” He says soothingly, his voice dropping an octave 

“I’m in the house”

“Where in the house” He turns to it and starts running, the fire is slowing down but not nearly enough. He mutes his phone for a second and alerts everyone on the radios 

“It’s- it’s so stupid”

He stops, smashing the unmute button

“Y/N, please. Fuck, the house is on fire. You do realize that right?!” 

“It’s what?! I-I’m locked in a closet in the basement. N-nothings happening down here!”

“Alright, I’m coming to get you okay? I’m coming, baby” 

He doesn’t even have time to cringe at himself as he runs into the house, Hen and another couple of guys are already shutting doors and putting some of the smaller fires out but it’s definitely staying consistent 

“Where’s the basement?!” He asks you, panting slightly as he frantically looks around

“The kitchen, there’s a doorway” 

He hangs up the phone and shoves it in his pocket

“Y/N??” He yells for you, panic seeping through his veins 

“Have you found her?” Bobby radios him “do you need help?”

“Buck??? Buck, I’m in here!!” You’re pounding on the door as hard as you can to get his attention 

“I’ve got her! I found her!” He calls into the radio as he runs over to the door 

“Y/N? Is there anywhere you can stand to the left or right, away from the door?” 

“I think so?!” You back up into the corner as far as you can, pressing yourself against the wall

“Alright! What now?”

Buck readies his ax, holding it in his hands

“Now I channel my inner Jack Torrance!” 

You shriek as the ax breaks through the door and he begins to create an opening for you. He breaks into the door easily…if he’s being honest he probably could have kicked it in… but this was more fun. 

“Don’t you dare” you say as soon as there’s a clear small hole

“When am I ever going to be able to say it with someone who would actually laugh about it in a completely unprofessional way!!” 

You groan and duck down more as a few wood chips fly

“…Fine!” 

Buck goes just a teeny bit crazy with the axe, most of the fire has been contained so he takes a little more time than necessary. He gleefully smashes the door down, laughing maniacally while screaming “Here’s Johnny!” 

You do laugh, because it’s stupid and it’s so Buck, and watching him enjoying himself is cute. As soon as the hole is big enough for you, you step through and he yanks you into his chest immediately, you let out a little squeak and hold onto him 

“What the hell were you doing in there? You could have died!” 

“I didn’t know! I tried calling May but she didn’t answer the phone and… and I didn’t want to call you and-“

“Wait, why didn’t you wanna call me??” Buck pushes you back a little just by your shoulders and you look down at your feet. He tilts your head up and that’s when he realizes your makeup is a bit ruined. He chalked it up to the heat…but you said there wasn’t any 

“Why didn’t you want to call me? Did something happen?” He asks a little calmer this time

“We should get out of here. The building could collapse” you quickly change the subject and try to pull away from him but he stops you. He bends down to your eye level and forces you to look him in the eyes 

“It’s structurally sound. Trust me. Y/N what happened.”  

You look down at your shoes, wringing your hands together and sighing 

“It’s… childish” 

“No it isn’t. Just tell me.” His voice is firm and he looks upset, you groan and let your head fall back before looking at him again 

“These girls asked me to go downstairs and get some extra buckets from the closet and then they pushed me in and locked the door. Apparently, I was chatting up one of their boyfriends, I didn’t know! I just- I saw his shoes and they were cool and then he told me they were custom from Etsy and I asked for the shop!! And he was so nice Buck, genuinely he was! He asked for my number just to send the link!” 

You unlock your phone and show it to him, the number isn’t even saved, just a link with a little smiley face and a “Demon Slayer shoes” and that’s it. 

“I…I tried calling May and she didn’t answer.. and I was locked in this stupid closet like I was a teenager again or something so I just…put my phone on silent and cried. And I didn’t want to call you because I would seem like such a baby. Like who still locks people in closets!” 

Buck listens to your story and he looks pissed. First of all, no one hurts his baby. Second of all… you could have died if you hadn’t picked up the phone when he called, and you almost didn’t. 

Buck does what any sensible man would do in this situation, he stands up tall, looks around for a moment 

And he kisses you. 

It’s sweet and lingering, he tilts your head up and presses his lips to yours gently. He watches the way your eyes close slowly and you kiss him back and he wishes he could just stay there forever but eventually you have to breathe and he makes you pull away, not him. 

“You want me to go find them?” He spins the ax in his hand and you snicker, shoving at his chest 

“Absolutely, let’s commit murder together!” 

“Sounds good to me sweetness” He winks and you roll your eyes, pulling away from him. He frowns a little at the loss of contact but shakes it off 

“We should probably get out of here, your family is going insane… May is really upset” 

He takes his helmet off and puts it on your head and you giggle while holding it down to tilt your head up 

“Yeah okay” 

He holds out his hand and you take it, he starts to lead you upstairs but you stop for a second, planting your feet 

“Whats wr-“

You let go of his hand and rush past him, going up a few steps and turning around to kiss him. It’s quicker this time, just a peck and he’s spiraling immediately, giggling deliriously as you jog up the stairs pulling him with you now 

The second you step out of the house, Athena is on you, frantically checking you over before crushing you in a hug, May is crying and promising she’ll never leave you alone again and you’re hugging her, trying to console her. Buck takes this time to step away and go find Eddie, you give him a little wave over May’s shoulder and he blushes, waving back. 

He nearly crashes into Eddie when he finally spots him, going running over. He’s standing in front of the truck securing the hoses 

“Eddie Eddie Eddie Eddie” His voice is high pitched and his hands are shaking. He grabs Eddie’s shoulders and starts shaking him

“Buck calm down!” He’s laughing as he pushes him back a bit, he hands him a bottle of water and Buck takes it , chugging it before tossing it into the trash 

“I can’t, oh my god I can’t, guess what?!” He squeals and Eddie snorts, shaking his head 

“What?”

“We kissed. We kissed, we kissed, we kissed!!!” He practically screams the last one and Eddie yanks him over to the other side of the truck shushing him 

“Okay- first of all, calm down. Because everyone is going to know who you kissed. What happened???”

Buck can hardly contain himself, he holds tightly onto Eddie’s arms just to keep himself from floating off into the clouds 

“Okay well she told me about these girls that bullied her and locked her in a closet. How freaking 90s teen movies is that!! And she didn’t want to call me because she thought that would make her seem like a baby but she’s not a baby Eddie she’s really not and she was starting to tear up and I couldn’t stand to see her cry so I just kissed her!!”

Buck is speaking at a million miles an hour and Eddie is nodding his head along just trying to follow his story 

“No she’s not a baby, but oh my god she could have died”

“That’s what I told her!!! And then guess what oh my god Eddie guess what”

“What?” Eddie chuckles a little at his enthusiasm, it’s endearing 

“I put my helmet on her to make her smile and it worked and I held her hand-“ His voice is becoming squeaky again “and then she let go of my hand and I was like-“ he gasps “what if I went too far??” 

“Because randomly kissing her wasn’t far but holding her hand was” Eddie says sarcastically 

“Exactly!!!” Buck points at him and he squints but goes along with it 

“She went up the stairs because you know she’s short as hell, and she kissed me again” 

Eddie’s mouth drops open and Buck literally starts jumping up and down, he does a little spin, dancing around before shaking Eddie 

“Yeah!!!!”

[tachiharastanacc]

Tachi fic time!

Michizou didn’t like talking to his parents on the best of days. And today was a far cry from a good day.

It was his own fault really. He’d gotten ahead of himself, so confident in his abilities that he’d gotten sloppy. Although, realistically, even if the plan had gone off perfectly, this still probably would’ve been the result.

Still, sitting in front of the family he hadn’t seen in months with a man he’d met only a day ago wasn’t ideal. Especially when that man was currently staring at his parents like they’d told him to kill someone.

And technically they had.

“…only to show up out of nowhere with an escort from the military police! Honestly, I can’t imagine where we went wrong! If your brother were here-“

“My brother is dead.”

“And it should’ve been you instead!”

“That’s enough.”

The man didn’t yell. He hadn’t yelled once since Michizou had met him. Even after Michizou had pointed a sword at him. The man’s own sword, to be specific.

His mother had the decently to look a bit embarrassed, though she made sure to level her son with a look reminding him whose fault it was that she was scolded.

“This is the second time you’ve made such a comment in the four minutes since I’ve been here. Surely you, a mother who has already lost a son to war would know the pain that comes with losing a child.”

“With all due respect, sir,” his father practically spat, “you know nothing of our family. Our lives. We’ve been grieving our son for a long time.”

“And forgetting about the son that still lives.”

His mother grabbed a napkin off the table.

Michizou couldn’t help but roll his eyes, knowing exactly where this was going. She kicked him under the table.

“You don’t understand how hard it’s been.”

She dabbed at her, very much still dry, eyes with the cloth napkin. “Every time I look at him, I see Shunzen’s face. Having him here, it’s just painful. And he’s so difficult! Always running off and getting into trouble! Dragging our family name through the mud! We’d all be better off without him!”

Michizou crossed his arms. He could see the man next to him tense up a bit at the statement.

“You don’t mean that.”

“I do! I mean it with all of my heart!”

She turned to him.

“I wish you were dead.”

And there it was.

She could only bitch about him for so long before reminding him how little she wanted him.

The man in the uniform stood up, pulling out the sword from his belt and turning to the young teenager. He held the tip to his throat, emotionless.

“H-hey wait!”

“If I were to kill him right now, would your words still hold true I wonder?”

Neither of his parents flinched. In fact, they seemed completely neutral. Detached.

“I said I’d return the stuff! Y-you’re not actually gonna kill me, right?!”

None of the adults looked at him, busy with whatever pissing contest they were having with each other.

Maybe he could take this chance to escape? The man was strong, abnormally so, but he was distracted. And his weapon was really only metal. If Michizou could disarm him quick enough…

He sheathed the blade.

“…understood. We’re leaving.”

“Huh?”

The man fully turned to him. “We’re not wanted here. Therefore, there’s no point in us sticking around.”

He practically pulled the thirteen year-old out of his chair, dragging him to the door.

“Thank you for the tea.”

His voice remained even, his words polite, but there was a quiet rage in his eyes.

“Good riddance!”

Despite the years of hearing the same words over and over, it still stung just a bit. He’d come so close to being killed in front of them, and they couldn’t even pretend to care?!

The man stopped suddenly on the stoop.

“Tachihara.”

“Michizou.”

“Tachihara.”

Michizou glared at him. “That’s my brother’s last name.”

“It’s yours too.”

“It’s not. They don’t like me using it.”

The man spared a brief glance back at the door. “Do you really care what they like?”

Fair point.

“…fine. Tachihara.”

The man nodded. “I don’t like people like that.”

His grip tighter a bit, causing Tachihara to wince. Seriously, just who the hell was this man?!

With a muttered apology, he let go, patting the boy a bit too hard on the back instead.

“People like what?”

He’d never actually been arrested before. The police nearby knew him and usually let him off with a warning. He wasn’t a fan by any means, but he was at least a bit grateful, even if it meant stomaching the pitying looks when they learned he was caught stealing things like bread or bottles of water.

“People who sit and look down on others. They don’t know what it’s like, being on the frontlines, watching your men die, yet they claim to have it worse. Like the world revolves around them. That’s what they do. The ones on top.”

He began walking down the driveway. Confused, Tachihara followed him. He had a pretty strong feeling this was about more than just his parents.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m taking you to meet the others.”

As if that explained anything.

Still, the man was waiting now. Watching him with those intense eyes that bore into his parents just minutes before.

He took a few hesitant steps after him. He was expected to follow, right? Or was he getting ahead of himself?

“What others?”

The man smiled warmly, though the coldness in his eyes wasn’t entirely gone, along with a hint of something Tachihara couldn’t quite place.

“You have a strong ability. With my help, you could be incredibly powerful.”

“So…”

“I’m offering you a job.”

“…and if I refuse?”

“Well, I could always make good on my word and kill you for real.”

Tachihara stared at him, eyes wide. None of this made any sense. Seriously, just who was this guy?

The man’s gaze was cold as the steel Tachihara controlled. He took a few large strides over, placing a heavy hand on his shoulder.

After a moment of intense eye contact (and the youngest Tachihara almost forgetting to breathe), the man grinned once again and let out a loud laugh. His unpredictability was consistent, the boy would give him that.

“Relax. I’ll give you time to think about it on the way over.”

Thus, thirteen year-old Tachihara Michizou found himself in a car with the famed war hero Fukuchi Ouchi, driving outside the city limits.

For what it was worth, Fukuchi was kind- in a strict, try-hard step dad kind of way. Though, somewhere in the back of his mind…

He never actually said he wouldn’t kill me.

(@starlightshadowsworld bc I had abt an hour on the train earlier)

[devilfic]

❝right place, right time❞

VIII. whatever keeps you around.

parts: previously plot: bruce has a proposal for you. pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x gn!reader. cw: surgeon!reader, secret identities, slow burn, brief discussion of slight suicidal ideation/martyrdom, drug (and the injection of drugs) mentions, you will not guess what trope I managed to include in here. words: 6.9k. a/n: plotting this series makes me feel like charlie day pointing at a wall of red string

“…You won’t like it.”

It's clear what you have to do. You'd realized it when Gordon came to you, so of course Bruce did too. If you were going to make this right, you would have to face this head on. "I know what I have to do," you start, "I need to lure him out."

Bruce's expression shifts. Whatever you've said seems to be the wrong answer, "That... won't be necessary."

"What? What else can I do?"

"What did Gordon tell you about Dimitri?"

Your head throbs as you recall the memory, "Uh... he said he believes I'm next on Dimitri's hit list. He also said Dimitri hadn't anticipated me being at the house."

"Right, because Russo didn't want anyone knowing where he was." Bruce turns to his computer and brings up Russo's file, "After his divorce and the death of his son, he holed up and started erasing himself from the internet. As far as his neighbors know, he was constantly alone. You already know how hard it was to find him on your own, and unless Dimitri knew someone keeping tabs, it doesn't stand to reason that he found him any easier. But you, on the other hand," Bruce opens a search engine and types in your name. You're unsettled when the screen fills with results, most of them news articles from the night you'd been held hostage, "your name and face was everywhere after the gang war."

When the reporters had shoved cameras in your face and begged for you to tell them about Batman's heroic rescue, you hadn't thought twice about it, still fresh from the throes of gore and violence in the ER. Friends, family, coworkers: almost everyone you knew had seen it.

It clicks for you then, "If Dimitri planned on killing us both and I was easiest to find, why didn't he come for me first? I mean... it was me and Alex who ruined his life. If he wanted anyone dead more, wouldn't it be me?"

"I wondered the same thing. With the know-how and the right connections, anyone could find where you live just by name alone. Russo, on the other hand, is almost anonymous. It doesn't make sense why Dimitri would target Russo first."

"Do you think maybe it was a warning? Maybe he wanted to scare me."

"If he wanted to warn you, he wouldn't kill the guy in his house where no one checks up on him. Days would've passed before anyone noticed the flies in the windows."

"I don't get it."

"Do you remember how long it's been since you were taken hostage?"

Your mind lands on a weak estimate, "I don't know, a week and a half?"

"It's been over two weeks. According to the wardens, Dimitri stopped being a problem for them after the first few years. Friends with a rough crowd but he rarely got caught up in anything. Didn't have the heart to. So why, after 17 years, does he break out?"

Your stomach drops, "He saw me."

"And realized that while he was rotting away with nothing to live for, you were a hero," the word sickens you to hear, "on the front lines, saving lives, being saved. Your life went back to normal."

You grip the side of Bruce's desk with the sudden urge to vomit up everything you'd eaten today, which, frankly, wouldn't add up to much more than water and crackers.

You'd said it yourself: you'd gotten to live a life that Natalie, Dimitri, and Alex never would. Of course he wanted you dead. "So then I have to lure him out."

"And put yourself in danger? No."

"I’m already in danger, Bruce. What if he goes after the others? My parents? My coworkers? The other cops at the shootout? We have to end it now."

"This isn't the only way."

"It's the best way."

"Last time he had a knife, you could defend yourself. Barely. What if next time, he has a gun?"

"So what, you just want to do nothing?"

Bruce turns away from you. He gnaws on his lower lip, "No, I want to bide our time. Look into him more. I need to know if he's working with the Vipers again."

You watch him as he begins typing away at his computer, but you can't process what he's looking for through the haze of anger that washes over you. You lean on the desk, craning your neck up at his face to make him look at you, to understand how ridiculous he sounds, "We don't have time for that. His grudge is with me. I should meet him now and end this... either he gets what he wants or- or..."

Or what? Your stubbornness peters out. You don't know what. You see yourself standing face-to-face with Dimitri, his knife raised, ready to bury itself into the cushion of your chest. And nothing.

The you in this vision has no weapon.

"You don't think you're going to survive this." Coming out of your mind, Bruce is now looking at you, brows furrowed. He looks... mortified.

You scramble to cover your tracks, "That's not true. I'd have you there."

"But you don't want me there. You want to go alone. You think you deserve it."

"God, what are you? My therapist?" Your words flit out of your mouth in a rush, tongue nearly slipping up to defend yourself. You push away from the desk when you start feeling overexposed.

Bruce follows you, "You're not 16 anymore, this isn't some gang fight where you throw all your chips in because you can't see a year ahead of you. You've made a life. You've got people to lose, you said so yourself. I know what it's like... the survivor's guilt. You relive that day over and over-"

His words are making you feel sick to your stomach again and you lurch forward, finger in his face, "Don't you fucking preach to me-"

Almost as immediately as you'd raised your finger, Bruce snatches your wrist in his hand, yanking you close enough to be imposing, staring down at you with the same power that the Batman had used. It was so sudden that you quickly fall slack, wrist going limp in his grip.

It had completely sobered you of your tantrum, and for better or for worse, you were forced to listen to him, "Stop feeling sorry for yourself and think. You see this ending with you dead because you want to make up for the shit you did. You think that's what Alex wants? For you to bleed out in an alley like she did?" And just like that, the fire roars in you once more, but your other hand can't slap him across the face before he's caught that one too, "No future? What about all the people you've saved? Could still save? Face it now because you may not get another chance: you're alive. Do you want to be or not?"

You want to hurt him, turn his skin red and give it a place among the other bruises that glitter and glare down his torso, and as your hand shakes in his hold, you are forced to understand that you are angry because he is right.

You'd felt this same anger before. When your parents told you Alex was a bad influence on you. When Russo looked you in the eye and told you that you didn't have it in you to pull the trigger. It was maddening. He had clocked your suicide mission before even you had, had seen you in his mind's eye the way you saw yourself: disarmed, a lamb to the slaughter, a sacrifice for the greater good, a speedbump.

You could see Batman tackling him to the ground over your dying body. You couldn't see yourself getting up the next day.

After the frustration leaves Bruce's eyes, he's looking at you with something softer. You feel known, uncomfortably so, as he waits for you to meet him there.

And when you do, you hate how you collapse into him. Even more, you hate that he takes you up into his arms, holding you steadfast, as understanding as you needed him to be with all your fear of admitting it. The solidness of his body reminds you of the night he'd first held you, and that just makes you cry harder.

It feels different from last time. Where there was armor is now warm skin, the likes of which you hadn't felt in a while. If you had told your past self you'd one day be standing in Batman's cave, hugging Bruce Wayne and crying over the permanence of your mistakes, you might have diagnosed yourself with head trauma.

You screw your eyes shut in a vain attempt to put the tears to rest, your freed hands practically clawing at Bruce's warm back for some purchase, some stability. He doesn't seem to mind. He just holds you closer.

After a few minutes, you force yourself to speak, sniffling away the last remaining tears you'd allow yourself to shed, "You said I wouldn't like it. Your plan. What is it?"

"To disappear."

You wrench yourself back. Bruce is dead serious. "What?"

"I've considered it from all angles-"

"What do you mean, 'disappear'?"

"All but one of the prisoners Dimitri broke out with are still missing. How do we know they're not all working together? How do we know that you luring him out won't draw them out too? You were the easiest target before, not anymore."

"Say what you mean, Bruce. What do you want me to do?"

"I want to hide you here," he winces as he says this, as if aware of his words only now that they're out in the open, "with me."

"You're shitting me."

After a while, Bruce's face hardens, "I told you you wouldn't like it."

Liking it or not liking it was nothing. You'd advanced past "like". You were firmly out of your depth here.

You slip out of Bruce's hold and he lets you, standing rather awkwardly as you rub a hand across your mouth. Despite earlier, it now feels uncomfortably dry. You glance at Bruce and then at his screen, the tab with your name and face plastered all over it hovering in the background. "You want me to disappear off the face of the earth while you track him down. Leave my home, leave the people I care about, abandon my job. You want me to hide."

"I don't know how else to protect you. Not until we figure out what we're up against." Bruce watches you spin away, scoffing into the air, "You noticed it when you fought him off, didn't you? Something was really wrong with him."

You see flashes of Dimitri's feral stare, the way he staggered and swung. He was like a rabid animal in a cage. "Of course there was, he was trying to kill me."

"Beyond that," Bruce insists, "he wasn't right. I've seen it before. He was on something."

"Most people are these days. I wouldn't be surprised if he'd... I don't know, gotten his hands on drops or something-"

"It wasn't drops. Gordon told me."

"The detective?"

"He said they found a syringe with traces of venom in it. Dimitri's shooting up. That's why he was so strong."

Your mouth drops open in disbelief, "Venom? Great. Somehow worse than Drops."

"If he's on that drug, he's definitely addicted. It also means you won't stand a chance against him. This is why I'm telling you to stay here," Bruce steps forward, eyes imploring yours. You're dumbstruck by the heavy earnestness there, "stay in the tower. Hide here for a few days. Let me handle this."

"If he's on venom, it means he doesn't think he can handle you on his own," you wring your hands, flitting through images of the Dimitri you remember, "he was always really small. Even at fourteen, he hadn't really sprung up. He was scrawny and small and couldn't defend himself. Suddenly Gordon's saying he's almost twice the size of what I remember. Have you ever fought someone on venom?"

"Once or twice, somewhere between fixes. Why?"

"General has this kind of... sedative that we use when we get patients dealing with the effects. It's not perfect, but it does help calm them down enough to help them. Maybe we can use it to help him."

"The strain is constantly changing," Bruce watches you deflate and clears his throat, "but if I can get that sedative, I can use it as a base to make a new one."

"You need clearance to get your hands on that stuff. I'm going with you."

"What part of disappear do you not understand?"

"One, I never agreed to do that, and two, if Batman gets caught stealing from a hospital, that'll make you public enemy number one. You need my help, so let me help you."

Bruce is looking away, rolling his bottom lip between his teeth even as you zero in on him. You're getting flashbacks of that same Bruce from when you'd first met him here in this tower. All tender-eyed, even as he tries to put on a face for you, "And I need a drink," you rub your temple next, catching a glimpse of Bruce watching you from his peripheral, "You've got those, don't you?"

It turns out Bruce has plenty. There's a whole cellar full of them, the kinds you see in MTV Cribs with the low recessed lighting and mahogany shelves gleaming with polish. It makes sense for him to have it, but less so when he tells you he doesn't actually drink any of it.

"You weren't drinking at the party, either. Even though everyone else thought you were." You brush your hand along the shelves, careful not to knock any bottles loose. "Is that a trick to keep people spilling secrets? Or to keep from spilling your own?"

Bruce hovers near the entrance with his arms folded and back pressed to the wall, carefully watching you peruse his selection, "Maybe I don't like the taste."

"That's good. Men in Gotham die from alcoholism at a higher rate than any other city in the state."

"Really?"

"Really. You don't smoke either." Bruce blinks at you, "Just get shot at. And stabbed."

He says nothing.

Your hand lands on a red aged older than your mother and you stand to the side, looking expectantly at him. You're afraid that if you try to pick it up, you might knock down the whole row.

Slowly, Bruce pushes himself off the wall and glides over to you, grabbing the neck of the bottle in one hand and looking to you for approval. You try not to shrink yourself when you nod.

You follow him out of the cellar, flinching when the lights dim behind you and the door rolls shut all on its own. He guides you to the kitchen where night still hangs over Gotham outside the window, but the time on the stove clock warns of early morning soon.

Bruce pulls out two glasses and fills yours with wine and his with cranberry juice from the fridge. You could almost laugh at the pairing.

Once he slides your glass to you, you take a seat at the island and take a sip, "I need to ask you something. I get now why you refused me at the station, but then you came back. Why did you change your mind? I mean, neither of us knew Russo would be dead when we got there. Were you just going to let me hate you?"

"Yes." His simple response draws a quick, stifled laugh out of you.

"Are you always this... chaotic?"

Bruce leans his elbows on the countertop, hunching in on himself, "I always meant to tell you who I was. I just didn't know when. And I didn't mind if you hated Bruce Wayne, but... you trusted Batman. I didn't want to break that trust. Even if it meant telling you earlier than I planned, I wanted to give you some closure."

You think about the fear that had paralyzed you back then, thinking that Bruce Wayne was some big, bad criminal hiding behind polite society. Then you think about the real man, hiding behind a mask. You fidget uncomfortably, struggling with feeling somewhere between grateful and nauseous. Your eyes catch the stitches on his shoulder and you itch to wipe away the dried blood that had dribbled from the cut, "You said you were looking for Dimitri when you got that. Did you..."

Bruce catches your eye when you fail to finish your question. "No," he answers solemnly, "which is only part of our problem." He stands to his full height, flexing bruised knuckles against the counter, "I ran into one of the guys that broke out with Dimitri tonight. That's who gave me this. Dimitri isn't working alone."

You frown, "Is he trying to shake you? Why leave clues at all?"

"Because these people want me dead. The guy from tonight? I booked him a year ago for trafficking women. Earlier led me to a fringe group of Falcone's."

"You've been looking for Dimitri all day?"

"I haven't stopped since we found Russo. I couldn't."

You rub your arms, feeling the room grow chiller by the second, "So... so he's leaving clues to people who hate you. To keep you occupied." Bruce nods. "So he can get to me?"

"After last night, he knows the Batman is on your side."

"Dimitri wasn't out when you got on the scene. Do you think maybe he's taking venom because these guys warned him about you?"

Bruce smirks, rolling his eyes as he takes a sip from his glass, "As a precaution, sure. And now he has reason to believe I know you. If he's going to go after you, he's going to shoot up each time."

"That stuff is nasty. You're big and scary when you're on it but as soon as the effects wear off-"

"You deflate like a balloon. It's also stupid expensive, so he's either got real generous prison pals or he's being used. It's why I need to know if he's working with the Vipers. They might be supplying him."

How you'd gone from an ordinary surgeon to a detective in the span of mere weeks was beyond you. You're beyond just treading water. You're diving into the abyss.

Your brain struggles to make real what is before you. Bruce, still shirtless, drinking delicately from a glass as he watches the night sky shimmer from the kitchen window. And you, sitting across from him, cracking open one of his family's expensive bottles that, frankly, puts your pantry vinos to shame. Playing vigilantes like schoolchildren. Except the blood on you both is very real.

Your arm throbs at being remembered for once tonight. Bruce notices you touch it, "You need to get some rest."

You know he's right, and you're not arguing for the sake of arguing when you say, "I can't sleep yet." But he can tell there's more on your mind as he waits silently, almost egging you on to lay yourself bare. You swear you're not arguing just for the sake of arguing, "And I don't want to disappear. I want to be alive."

Bruce says nothing. The silence isn't humiliating like you'd think it be, even if the first few seconds leave you feeling just as laid bare as you thought you would. No. It feels acknowledging. Understanding, even.

For the first time, you look at Bruce and feel like you understand him. If he was really Batman, then he would know better than anyone why you would want to put yourself in danger. But beneath that, with the meager knowledge of who Bruce Wayne is, you also think you understand him too.

He'd mentioned the survivor's guilt. While he'd played a much more innocent role in the whole ordeal, you couldn't imagine the weight on one's chest knowing that two people you love didn't get to go on but you did. It's a lot to ask of a child barely coming to understand the mortality of one's own keepers.

The choice to be alive for someone like that is a deliberate choice. Constantly made every morning.

"There is another way," Bruce muses, "but you'll like it even less."

"Don't leave me hanging."

"We could go public."

"What?"

"You said disappearing would mean abandoning your life. And it would. No one could know where you went, who you were with, but there's always the chance someone might slip up. It's the safest option but it's not what you want. So don't hide." Bruce's eye contact is deep and unwavering. Compared to earlier, he seems to trust you're willing to listen this time, "Be mine."

For the nth time tonight, you are rendered nearly speechless. Nearly. "Are you fucking with me?"

Bruce's eyes narrow, "No."

"Did you just... proposition me?"

"I made a proposal."

"You're asking me to date you."

"Publicly. Batman has more enemies than allies, but Bruce Wayne has the people. If you and I are publicly linked, it tells everyone looking for you that the world is watching. It makes you more visible, as well as anyone who comes after you."

"You haven't slept," you reason, "clearly. And you're delirious."

"I haven't slept, no." But he looks fairly sober for someone who hasn't slept in a day. He is a different breed, this Bruce Wayne.

You peer out the kitchen window and see the black sky dipping into a blue horizon, "Then sleep on it and come up with something better."

Bruce rounds the island until he's standing beside you, looking down at your barely touched wine, "There's some spare rooms upstairs. You can take your pick." It dawns on you that you may not be going back home any time soon. "You know your way around."

You suppose you deserve that dig.

Then he's leaving you, glasses abandoned, home for you to explore. You don't realize how thick the air had gotten with him right next to you until he's gone.

You half-expect Alfred to pop up somewhere nearby, but there's nothing. This far up, there is no city to listen for, no neighbors slamming doors. You are in a cold house all alone. You suddenly wish he'd stayed to keep you company, even if the weight of it was beginning to take its toll on you. Left alone, you only had the sunrise.

You watch until the sky has all but chased the night away, and then you head upstairs.

You didn't think you'd get much sleep in a stranger's bed, but you're being roused by a sharp, successive rapping at your door several hours later. It jolts you awake, kick-starting your heart, and you clumsily tumble out of the million thread count sheets to open the door.

Alfred stands there fully dressed for the day, one hand tucked in his pocket and the other still raised to knock. Upon seeing you, he lowers his fist, "Morning," he starts, looking away as soon as he meets your eyes, "breakfast is ready. Come get it before it's cold."

He does not give you a choice in the matter. He's already limping toward the staircase without another word.

After you get your heart to settle down, you follow after him, preening yourself as you pass hallway mirrors and portraits of the Wayne family through the generations. You hadn't come down this hallway when you'd found the terminus elevator, so you stumble to a stop in front of a portrait of a young Bruce grinning ear to ear.

It startles you. His eyes are soft, a gentle humming blue untouched by wrinkle or darkness. He must've been especially young here. Glancing at a nearby portrait of his parents, you find him the spitting image of his father. You look around and realize there are no portraits of Bruce at this age.

Bruce. He might be at breakfast, and the mere thought of having to discuss what occurred last night almost turns you right back around to the guest room, but your stomach rumbling begs you not to. You still walk quietly, peering around corners in case your stomach changed its mind.

You find you're cautious for naught when the only person standing in the kitchen is Alfred, chopping up fresh fruit.

"I hope you don't mind that I moved your things," he gestures with his paring knife to your surgical tools neatly congregated on the counter, "I cleaned them too."

"Oh. You didn't need to do that."

"There was blood, so I'm afraid I did." Alfred places a bit of pressure on "blood", and you quickly take note of his short tone.

Still, all the same, he then gestures to the island and implores you take a seat in front of an empty plate. Without asking, he begins pushing steaming hot food onto your plate, "Tea or coffee?" He asks, barely looking up at you.

"Uh, coffee is fine. Thanks." You watch Alfred pour you a mug and wonder if the awkwardness with him is any more preferable to the awkwardness with Bruce. Alfred is passive-aggressive, Bruce is... aggressive. You remember how the latter had left off your night together and find yourself feeling warmer toward Alfred. "How long have you been up?"

"Since 6, although I woke a few times through the night."

You wince, "Sorry."

"No need to apologize. I did think Bruce had invited you over under different circumstances, so... not as alarming, all things considered." Your grip on your fork slips and it clatters to the marble. Alfred barely reacts.

"He needed stitches." Is all you can get out.

"Yes, I'm well aware."

You glance up at him, "You saw?"

"When he first arrived home, yes. I was the one who helped stop the bleeding."

You stare at the coffee sweating in your cup, recalling something Bruce had mentioned last night, "Bruce said you were the one who used to stitch him up."

"Yes."

"If you were there, why-"

"It's what he pays you for, isn't it?" Alfred almost snaps back at you, slicing a strawberry into quarters with more edge than needed.

You recall something else next. The softness in Alfred's face the day you first came here, arguing with Bruce in the very room next door. You'd wondered what it had all been about.

"I've done alright, haven't I?"

"He said something else too," you start, careful as you choose your next words, "about how much you worry about him." You fiddle with your mug, pretending not to feel the heat of Alfred's eyes on you, "I think the reason he hired me is because he was worried about you."

You just catch the tail-end of Alfred's frown, "Worried about me? Why?"

You probably aren't close enough to either of these two to laugh about this, but you do anyway, "Isn't it kind of obvious?"

"Nonsense. We always discussed... if it would come to it, that if he were to pursue this life further, that he would recruit professionals who might aid him in his work. It was the natural thing to do."

"Maybe, yeah. But would he have really needed me if you weren't already doing everything else for him? You've taken good care of him this long. I mean, the aftercare you gave his bullet wound was exceptional. I accused him of talking to other doctors."

Alfred busies himself with scraping his strawberry halves into a bowl, "It's basic knowledge. You learn that kind of thing in the service."

"Or when you invited me to watch you two spar. You know his body probably better than he does. You're fantastic, Alfred." You couldn't say you weren't also trying to butter him up to better his feelings toward you, but you were speaking truth all the same.

In a very British way, he rebuts your compliments and spoons some fruit into a glass, beginning to layer some yogurt over top them, "Regardless of reason, you are here now, and I'll have you know that every part of your contract covers this. Wayne Enterprises will exhaust every possible legal tool at our leisure if you speak of any—any—of this to anyone. Master Bruce's identity is safely guarded, and regardless of his trust in you, I will not hesitate-"

"Whoa, whoa, hey. I would never tell anyone. Not after all Batman has done for me." You press a hand over your heart for emphasis, "He is just as much my patient as Bruce Wayne is, and he didn't have to pay me to take care of him."

Alfred still stares you down like a guard dog, paring knife still clutched in his fingers. After a moment, he looks away from you and points at your plate, "Eat. It's getting cold."

So you do. It's good so you say as much, counting any point toward his affection as a good thing. If you could get Alfred to trust you, you'd call that a win.

The tension in the air dissipates over time, and after you've licked your plate clean, you and Alfred are sharing coffee together. "Bruce isn't joining us?"

"I've stopped expecting him to be awake this early." You glance at the clock that reads 10:12. "He has adopted a near-fully nocturnal lifestyle."

"The night that he crawled through my window, he was there at the hospital the next morning like nothing happened. He doesn't do that often?"

"Before last year, it was a rare occurrence. While he's dedicated himself to his role more recently, if he can avoid it, he will."

You think back to what knowledge you do have on Bruce's charity work and his friendship with the Mayor. You'd worked shifts just as long, but you couldn't imagine showing up to work mere hours after getting shot in the stomach and having to put on a brave face about it. You almost feel bad for calling him out on it in front of everyone.

But then again, if you hadn't, would you even be sitting here?

You swirl the last vestiges of coffee in your cup, trying to picture a world in which you'd gone and found that empty office to nap in instead of toddling behind Rudy and Em and Alfred and Batman. The Batman.

The novelty of it brings a fresh wave of dizziness over you. You had been exposed to so much information over the course of the last 12 hours that it hadn't fully settled in on you what Bruce was. You didn't think that your brain would process it even if he was standing in cowl and cape right in front of you.

"I suppose you'll be staying with us for the near future, if Bruce has anything to say about it," Alfred stands from his chair beside you and puts your dishes in the sink, "shall I inform your security detail or would you like to?"

You don't know what to say to that. "I'm... I think I should talk this over with Bruce first. It may not need to come to that."

The butler shrugs. "I'll be attending to some house duties for the rest of the morning. Should you stay for lunch, let Dory know, hm?" You give him a weak nod and watch as he makes his way from the sink and heads down another hallway out of sight.

Not too long after Alfred leaves you, you hear the doorbell ring. Bruce hadn't mentioned to you that any guests would be here today, but then again, the two of you had had more important things to discuss last night. You check your reflection in the glass of the kitchen window, wondering if there were any hidden doors in the bookcases that could hide you from whatever Wayne Enterprises exec that was coming to talk business, but you wouldn't trust yourself not to break something in the process.

You hear two pairs of footsteps approaching from the elevator and turn to see who it might be. You first recognize Dory, fluttering between frantic small talk and making sure not to trip in her kitten heels as she guides her guest into the living room. You stiffen as soon as you see him.

Detective Gordon catches your eyes instantly, his own widening. Dory says something about going to fetch Bruce before she quickly ascends the stairs, leaving you and James staring at each other across the distance. In one hand is a notepad and pencil, and the other fixes his tie, almost as if at a loss for words. He greets you, hesitantly leaving where Dory had left him to approach you, "I saw the boys out front but... I didn't expect to see you here."

"Me neither." You reply. "Is everything okay?"

James glances up at the stairs as he passes underneath, "That depends. I followed up on your request."

Shit. Of course a cop would do their job when you least expect it. You slip out of your chair and rush to meet him halfway into the kitchen, "Did... did you find something?"

"I can't say much right now. I'd like to talk to Mr. Wayne, but-" The sound of Dory's heels clacking against the wooden stairs makes James lower his voice, "-you being here complicates things."

Bruce is wearing a shirt this time, thankfully, though you're not expecting him to look as put together this early after what Alfred had said. He towers behind Dory's much smaller frame in a pair of loose black pants and a matching turtleneck, looking in a fashionable state of undress as he pads barefoot into the room. With hair slicked back and stubble freshly shaved, he doesn't look like someone caught unaware. He's fixing the sleeve of his sweater when he extends a hand to Detective Gordon, bright smile and all, "Detective James Gordon, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Mr. Wayne, I'm sorry for dropping in unannounced. If this is a bad time, I can come back." James gestures to you.

Bruce's look at you is empty, devoid of any detectable emotion or thought. It strikes you as unsettling, the same way a cashier at the end of their shift isn't really looking at you, "Oh, no. I was just on my way to work when I felt unwell. I called my doctor over but it was nothing to worry about. A little stomach bug, is all."

You do look like you'd just come over in a rush. You're still in your lounge clothes from the night before, and your medical supplies are still in the kitchen where Alfred had left them. James seems to notice, but he doesn't look any more relaxed. "That's good to hear. I don't want to keep you too long, but truth is, I have some questions I'd like to ask you if you have the time."

"Is something wrong?" James glances between you and Bruce, something the latter doesn't miss, "is it sensitive?"

"It's about the party you threw here the other night, Mr. Wayne. For Mayor Reál. I hear you invited quite a few Gotham politicians to celebrate the passing of the mayor's new bill, correct?"

"That's correct."

"And I understand you're quite invested in Gotham politics in general, much like your father."

"I am. My mother and father were very interested in the city, and Mayor Reál breathed new life into that for me after the election. I do what I can to support the cause."

"And that cause is...?"

Bruce takes the skeptical tone on the chin, smiling wider, "A safer, fairer Gotham. For everyone."

This Bruce was nothing like the Bruce you had all to yourself. He taps into that persona from the party with ease. Watching him is like watching a performance. "That's good, good. I notice you try to make an effort with charities in the city, donations and the like. You recently donated a new wing to Gotham General."

"I did. Increasing access to medical care for the citizens is important to me. My doctor, a talented surgeon at General, knows this well." You flash a timid smile when both Bruce and James look to you.

"And you also financially support politicians in Gotham."

"Occasionally. Anyone I feel has Gotham's best interests in mind."

"And have you found members of Gotham's political parties to be unusually forward in requesting your support, Mr. Wayne? Perhaps a little too pushy, maybe."

Bruce wears confusion well, "Not necessarily. I'm not easily pressured into doing things I have no interest in."

"Of course. How about any attempts to win over your support? Publicly or otherwise."

"I'm not sure what you're asking, detective. I'd love to help, but I don't think I have the information you're looking for."

James nods, holding his chin high, "My apologies. I should've been clear from the beginning. My question is: have any politicians or members of law enforcement offered you anything in exchange for your financial or public support? I have reason to believe there may be someone with high clearance exchanging confidential information with civilians. Especially ones who can pay. I'm just looking for a lead."

James frames his question well, even though any fat cat familiar with the cops could see the hidden question. Bruce frowns, tilts his head, shaking it slowly, "That's awful. I don't currently know of anyone doing such a thing, to me or anyone else. But I can keep an eye out. I can only imagine how dangerous that might be."

"Exactly. We'd like to nip it in the bud as soon as possible."

"Of course. Do you have a card? Perhaps I can contact you if I hear anything."

James fishes out his card and hands it over, "I don't want to put you in a bad position, only pass along what you know if you feel safe enough to do so."

You notice Bruce is flicking the business card between his fingers as a fidget, though he keeps his attention respectfully on the detective. "Absolutely. Thank you, detective. Dory can show you to the door."

The detective nods and follows Dory out of the room. As soon as the two are out of earshot, Bruce's expression softens as he presses his back into the counter. You wish you could sink into the floor. "To be fair," you begin, "I didn't think he'd find anything."

Bruce side-eyes you, "That was you?"

"I thought my criminal boss was going to blackmail me to keep his secrets."

"Criminal boss." You think he's trying to mock you, but his eyes are surprisingly guilty when he looks at you, "Alfred wasn't kidding. I really didn't handle this well."

"No, not really." You don't mean to kick him while he's down, but you can't lie either. Even now, you were still making meaning out of this whole thing.

By all means, you've gone from knowing nothing about him, to understanding even less, to fearing him, to this. With Batman on the other hand, you'd felt nothing but loyalty and trust in him up until the very last second. Now they were both the same person, and the meager hours of sleep you'd gotten hadn't cleared all that up just yet.

You wonder who you're supposed to see now. Batman or Bruce Wayne? Why was the line separating them blurring the more you thought of them?

"So, did you ever come up with a better idea?"

Bruce does not offer one. You'd dreaded that.

"You already know what I think. No matter how we go about this, there's going to be something. So what do you want to do?" Bruce's eyes follow your ever minute expression, laser-focused on you. "Whatever you choose, I will keep you safe. I promise you."

He feels so staunchly Batman in this moment, even with the soft voice of Bruce, watching over you. Through all your uncertainty, this you believe him on.

And you're exhausted, you find. Your arm is beginning to throb again. You crave the reprieve of a bed but not your own, to your surprise.

"I'm going to trust you, Bruce," your voice wobbles as you say it out loud, "I'm going to trust you like I trust Batman."

Bruce holds eye contact with you for a few moments, "Okay."

"Can I ask... why are you dressed so nice?"

"We're going to get the sedative."

"You're going as Bruce?"

"It's the middle of the day. Yes, I'm going as Bruce. I'm not letting you out of my sight."

You fluster, suddenly reconsidering this entire plan. You'd pictured Batman skulking on the rooftop while you Mission Impossible'd your way into the medicine cabinets for what you needed. Walking in with him—the real him—would draw attention you didn't need, "You're only going to make me look suspicious."

"I'm your patient, and more importantly, I'm a donor."

"You will stick out like a sore thumb."

"That means when people are looking at me, they're not looking at you." You open your mouth to argue but he's already cutting you off, "Do you want me to drop you off at your place or do you want me to send someone to get your things?"

You're aware of what he's really asking.

You heave a sigh, "Drop me off. I can't promise Judith won't hurt someone if she finds a stranger in my house."

a/n: mj stop having the reader move in with bruce when their life is put in imminent danger challenge impossible

taglist: @yikes-buddy @alexxavicry @theclassicvinyldragon @marina-and-the-memes​ @wnstice @angxlictexrs @moonlightreader649 @thescarletfang @navs-bhat @yehet-moi-ohorat @bluestuesday @moony-toasts @sketchiethebear @trawberry-fire @hangmanscoming @agent-scorpio @julesjewelss36 @chonkercatto @dcgoddess @hollandorks @anotherr-fine-mess @miriamnox @dumdumsun @phoenixgurl030 @marvelouskatie @swangelss @millercontracting @aivlisdecolores @geeksareunique @xxrougefangxx @theres-a-bea @keepingitlokiii

[tsams-confessions]

Okay, before the hate starts raining down on Moon for not listening to a villain, again… Because this fandom is more predictable than a little child. I want you to stop for a second, try to imagine that you are Moon and have Ruin in front of you. Would you really even want to hear what the guy who eliminated countless lives in cold blood, including that of you best friend whom he loved like a brother, has to say? Would you really care even a little bit about what that murderer has to say?? Someone who was lying and cheating from the moment they met and now they know that he tried to kill them consciously and without being influenced by a virus??? Someone who already betrayed him in the worst way???! I want that you please ask yourself these questions before speaking ill of Moon, who, obviously we can all agree, is not well. And the main culprit for that is in fact, Ruin. So as frustrating as it may be for us as viewers to know that it would probably be best to listen to the British murderer to avoid future misfortunes. Moon has no reason to trust Ruin, just as he had no reason to trust Eclipse in the past. Trust is earned, not bet.

.

[mcufan72]

Sugar and Cinnamon

Loki x female reader (AU)/ 18+

Chapter 12

Chapter 11

Warnings: contains fluff, smut, angst, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, alcohol and cigarette consumption, soft!dom/sub vibes, toxic relationship, morally grey stuff, blackmailing, abusive and insulting behaviour, workplace bullying, some violence

A/N: I'm sorry that it took me so long to update this. Life keeps being a plague. It's a long chapter once again and the end of the story is coming closer. I hope you enjoy reading.

While slipping into your dark green trainers you called Walker. You hoped that he could quickly drive you to lower Manhattan. You needed to find Loki as soon as possible and maybe you needed Walker's help to stop him from doing something really stupid. You weren't sure if Walker would answer your call, maybe he had worked the whole night and was still sleeping right now but you had to try it. You needed someone by your side you could trust and who wouldn't let you down in this awful situation and besides, you had no other person you could ask for help in this specific situation.

“Hello? Who's speaking?” You heard Walker's hoarse voice on the other end of the line, answering your call. It sounded like he was suppressing a yawn.

“Walker? It's y/n here. Walker, can you come, please? I need your help”, you asked him and grabbed your coat from the coat rack, putting it on.

“Are you okay? Did something happen? Is it about Mr.Larsson? Did he do something to you?” Walker was immediately wide awake when he heard your concerned and subtly frantic voice but he couldn't imagine that something bad could've happened between you and Loki.

“It has something to do with him, yes but he didn't hurt me. Walker please come, it's urgent. Can you drive me to lower Manhattan? Immediately? I'll explain everything to you while driving there and I promise I'll make it up to you. But please, please help me”, you nearly began to cry. You were so afraid that it might be already too late to avoid the worst case.

“Of course, dear, I'll be there in five”, and he ended the call.

You hurriedly ran down the stairway and waited in front of your house for Walker to arrive, impatiently walking up and down the pavement. It seemed you waited for an eternity but shortly after you saw the familiar black limousine driving around the corner to pick you up. You yanked the door hastily open, slipped into the passenger seat and closed the door, Walker looking quizzically at you.

“I don't belong on the backseat anymore, I won't return to the agency to work as an escort lady. I've fallen in love, Walker and I wanna be together just with him, with Lo… Luke”, you answered his wordless question, nearly accidentally revealing Loki's real name caused by the overwhelming situation you were in. You could barely think straight. Your thoughts were all about Loki and what he was about to do.

“I'm glad to hear that, y/n, you deserve happiness and a loving man by your side. Where do you want me to take you?”

“Do you remember the building I told you where my last workplace was?”

“Yes, I do!”

“Perfect! Please drive me there and Walker, we have to hurry. Loki… Mr Larsson is going to kill someone and… we need to stop him. He told me that… that he would kill my shitty ex after we spent our first night in the hotel suite. Now I'm running after him to avoid it and if not… he has to go… to jail. Walker, I can't lose him, I can't live without him”, you explained, your voice trembling with fear.

“He's going to kill someone? Seriously? This man would go to any lengths for you, wouldn't he? I always knew it. This man has fallen deeply for you. But…’Loki’?” The name evoked something in his mind.

“Walker, please…”

“Yeah, let's go. Buckle up, ma'am, we're in a hurry. Let's go on that mission”, and he ignited the engine, pressed the accelerator pedal down and merged into the traffic. The sun wasn't shining anymore and it began to rain when you were halfway through Manhattan. And as if that wasn't enough to darken your mood, you ended up in the biggest traffic jam you could think of. There wasn't any back or forth and no chance to take a different way. The rain got pretty heavy and you pulled the hood of your coat over your head. You opened the door, ready to jump out of the car onto the rain-filled and busy streets.

“What are you doing? You'll be drenched within seconds!” Walker warned you.

“I cannot wait for the traffic jam to clear, Walker. Meet me at the building of my former workplace, okay?” You didn't wait for his answer and confirmation. You slammed the car door shut and ran, ignoring everyone who came into your way, dodging everyone as best you could. The rain was pouring down now and you were already drenched to the bones after a few seconds but you didn't care. You ran, you ran as fast as you never did before in your life, and you hoped it wasn't already too late. Ralph's agency was still several blocks away.

“Loki, don't, please don't do it… Loki, no”, those words dropped off your lips like a mantra and your tears mixed up with the heavy raindrops on your face.

***********************

“Is your boss in?” Loki asked calmly but darkly.

“Do you have an appointment, Mister…?” The front desk lady, a beautiful, young woman dressed in an elegant business dress, wanted to know. Seemingly impressed she stared at the man in front of her. Tall, with prominent cheekbones and a sharp jawline, his long inky black hair slicked back to tame the obvious curls, his toned body perfectly dressed in an all-black suit and a black dress shirt with a dark green tie, fixed with a golden tie pin, a dark long straight-cut double-breasted coat with notched, dark green lapels and a dark green lining. A nice pair of golden cufflinks peeped out of the coat’s sleeves and rounded off his elegant outfit. Loki would never appear on a business matter in casual clothes like he had worn when he had left you this morning. His appearance was extremely intimidating, even frightening and the dark sunglasses, which covered his eyes, added to this feeling. Loki ignored her and turned around to head to Ralph's office which must be behind that massive wooden door to his left-hand side. Today was payday. Not for you but for Ralph. Loki was on a mission and his mission was to fight for the honour of his lady, for you. And he had no time to waste.

“Sir, please, I must insist …Sir, excuse me, you can't… Sir”, she shouted at Loki, running after him and trying to stop him from entering Ralph's office without an appointment or personal invitation.

“Shhhh”, was all she was hearing when Loki turned around to look at her, placing his pointer finger vertically over his lips to shut her up.

“I assure you, I can, madam”, Loki said, his voice deep and cold as the arctic night. The young woman froze in place and she already knew that she would get punished by her boss because she hadn't done her job correctly which was to avoid this man walking straight into her boss’ office. Her neck hairs stood up when she saw Loki with long strides approaching her boss’ office door, his boots heavily hitting the floor. Loki gripped the doorknob, turned it, entered the office silently, and closed the soundproof door soundlessly behind him.

Ralph's back was facing the door and he was staring out of the floor-to-ceiling windows while he was on a phone call with someone. At the horizon, heavy rain-filled clouds were hanging dangerously in the sky, coming closer with every minute. His voice trembled and sounded angsty and excitedly. Loki took in the interior of the office and everything looked like he had expected. A curved glass desk, with several photos spread out on it, and a black leather executive chair, designer furniture, of course. A big flat-screen TV embedded in a wood-panelled wall, mahogany, of course. The finest cashmere silk carpets covered the marble floor and an amazing view over lower Manhattan completed the luxury of this office. And nothing of this came from Ralph's work. Not the money he owned, not this exclusive location, not the interiors. Nothing he claimed to be his was his at least. Not at all. Most of it came from your work and the work of your colleagues and seeing all this now with his own eyes after you had told him everything made him even angrier than he already was. He could literally and figuratively see how hard you had worked for all of this and he knew that professional success didn't come from nothing. Ralph really knew how to exploit his employees, mentally, physically and emotionally. A more superior, arrogant prick who never shit between two shoes. His only interest was money. He didn't care about anyone, he only cared about money and wealth. It disgusted Loki to imagine you in the arms of this jerk and he shuddered inwardly, suppressing the upcoming possessiveness and protective feelings he had for you. He had to stay cool and collected to avoid any bad mistakes which could bring him back to the dungeons of Asgard.

“You'll get your money… yes… yes, I assure you… yes, yes I promise… yes, I know she'll pay… C’mon, you know me, I'd never…”, Ralph whined into the phone and tried to sound credible when he turned around, looking at the tall, dark-dressed man standing opposite of him.

“I call you back, bye”, he talked into the phone and ended the call abruptly.

“And who the fuck are you? Who let you in? Do we have an appointment? I don't think so! Get out of here!” Ralph addressed Loki disrespectfully and upset.

“The front desk lady told me that you're here and I let myself in”, Loki responded emotionlessly and took off the sunglasses to put them provocatively slow into the pocket of his coat, settling his piercing gaze on Ralph's face.

“That bitch will get fired. That fuckin’ loser will never learn to do her job right. I'm surrounded by fuckin‘ idiots”, Ralph shouted towards the door, raising a clenched fist.

“Says the son of a bitch who has nothing else to do than exploiting and mistreating his employees and caretakers. I'd say, that makes you a fuckin’ idiot, a snorty pretentious douchebag who looks down on others”, Loki said while walking slowly towards Ralph, towering dangerously over him.

“Who are you? Are you one of Malone's men? I've told him I need more time. Don't go on my nerves, man!”

“Never heard of that name”, Loki answered, his voice menacingly.

“Are we dealing with the wrong men, Mr Belmont?” Loki tilted his head. “It doesn't matter who I am. I am no one's man. Well, I'm y/n's man but this is none of your business”, Loki's voice was deadly calm, deep and threatening and he felt the urgent wish of conjuring a knife.

“Ohhh, I see…”,Ralph laughed bitterly. “Are you her new stud, eh? Is that bitch in heat again? Well, I hope you fuck her right. Does that slut go wild when you shove your dick up her cunt or does she still think of me to cum hard? She's so frigid sometimes. That's so boring and annoying, isn't it? Thankfully it's none of my business anymore. Maybe I could give you some advice on how to pleasure her right. You better make the slut pay her debts or I'll forget about my good manners”, Ralph bellowed. “The clock is ticking man and soon you and the rest of Manhattan will know about what she really likes, you know. Would you like that? Your girlfriend posing naked on every billboard in Manhattan you can think of?” Ralph said provocatively not knowing who he was talking to. Loki clenched his jaw hard, glancing down at Ralph before he looked at the pictures on the desk.

“Are these the photos you're blackmailing y/n with?” It was a rhetorical question and he had a closer look at the spread-out photos. They showed you, his precious girl and beloved queen, in sexy lingerie or completely naked in lascivious poses or throwing air kisses toward the photographer, which was Ralph. Loki would've found them cute and arousing but knowing under which circumstances and why they were taken he was just disgusted. You didn't deserve that. It was abusive and violated the most private part of your life. He knew you had agreed to get photographed like that by your ex but they shouldn't lay here, on the desk, for everyone to see, ready to get published. On closer inspection, Loki discovered an HD-card lying on the desktop too, halfway covered by one of the pics.

“And the sex tape is on that card, I assume.”

“What a clever man you are?” Ralph answered sweetly and dismissively. “The bitch hasn't paid yet. If she pays, she can have them. If not, I'll publish them tomorrow at 6 am sharp. I own a bunch of billboards around town and beyond the city limits. It'll ruin her reputation, she won't have any chance in the marketing business anymore… or she comes back to me, back to the office and into my bed, so I can teach her further and everything will be fine again and I'll forget about the sexy, dirty little secrets I share with her”, Ralph said, a sardonic smile curving his mouth. “Or are you interested in the photos and the porn video? It's a really good one. Maybe you can learn something new, eh?” And he kept grinning complacently at Loki. “You can have them… let me think… for half a million dollars? That's the bare minimum for such a beautiful girl and a great offer, isn't it? You also would have two things for the price of one… you'd have her and the erotic photos. I'd say that's a fantastic deal so... Take it or leave it”, he offered the pics to Loki like they were a slice of meat.

Loki kept eyeballing him, pure hate and contempt in his gaze and he tried hard to not lose his cool. His fantasy evolved from punching and stabbing Ralph to ripping his tongue out. It was hard for him to stay calm but he had something to lose and that he would never risk. Not for someone like Ralph. Somehow he had a feeling he could hear your voice from afar, begging him to not do it, whatever ‘it’ was.

“And you say you loved her?” Loki's voice sounded emotionlessly but inwardly his blood was boiling.

“Who said I did? Yeah, in the beginning… everything was sunshine and roses and we were fucking like rabbits, yeah it was fun. She was of great use, you know. Everything she touched turned to gold. She's smart, clever, brave, an excellent negotiator, and a successful account manager. She's one of the best in our business. It gained us loads of money. She had a luxurious life with me and everything a girl wants: a penthouse in the best region of Manhattan, a beach house in the Hamptons, luxurious holidays, luxurious designer clothes, purses and shoes, her beloved cabrio to cruise to her mama, finest jewellery and big ass parties, and we still had sex which was off the charts when she was in the right mood… anything a girl could dream of but she threw it all away… for someone like… you?” Ralph raised his eyebrows and his grimy laughter filled his office. Loki was close to freak out and he had to suppress the urgent need to kill Ralph in an instant.

“But love? Love is for kids and dogs and absolutely overrated. Money and sex are good, and more fulfilling. Y/n was an investment, you know. She had a good life with me and there was no need to leave me. She decided differently. But no one, absolutely no one leaves a Belmont. Not without paying back their debts. I just want the money back I have invested in her. And being generous as I am she just has to pay a fraction of what she has cost me… or you take my offer. It's all up to you. Your decision. But as lovesick as you are I'm sure you'll take my offer.”

Loki's anger was boundless and grew with every second this piece of shit kept talking. The memory of you, sitting on the couch with your knees pulled to your chest, desperate and bawling your eyes out because of this man, this swine and what he had done to you and to what his behaviour had forced you to do, flashed back into his mind and made his heart aching. Enough was enough. This man would never hurt you again. Without a warning Ralph was grabbed and spun around and with an expulsion of air when his back hit the wood-panelled wall hard, he was pinned against it by two horned shadows. Panicking, Ralph couldn't see that they had the same shape as Loki. Loki's eyes shimmering greenish and dangerous, he slowly and elegantly took a seat in Ralph's leather chair, crossing one long leg over the other, keeping his stare fixed on that pathetic mortal literally sticking to the wall. He could clearly sense the smell of cold sweat that ran down Ralph's forehead and temples. Ralph screamed and shouted, struggling against the shadows that held him firmly against the wall.

“Hey asshole, stop that, damn it! What is that, let me down! Who are you?” He screamed.

“Someone who is fighting for justice and the honour of a woman. If you want to survive this you better answer my following question accurately. I only ask you once. Are these the only pictures and the only HD card you have of y/n?” Loki rested his forearms on the chair's armrests and kept staring at Ralph with that greenish gaze.

“Don't you dare threaten me… as if I would tell you, asshole… arghhh…”, Ralph whined and instantly the grip of the shadows tightened painfully.

“Wrong answer. Try again but be aware, it's your last chance”, Loki explained dryly. He still considered stabbing Ralph, cutting his balls off, and freeing him from his tongue and eyeballs… There were so many possibilities.

“Yes, yes these are the only ones…”, he answered, his voice squeaky and nearly suffocating when the grips of the shadows tightened further.

“Are you sure? No copies?”

“Yeah… arghh…no… no copies”, Ralph howled, convinced Loki would buy his lie.

“Wrong answer”, Loki responded and let the grip tighten further. He was sure he heard some bones of that pathetic creature break.

“Hey, …stop it… I tell you but please stop it, let… me down”, Ralph begged pathetically and cried painfully. “Hey, I need the money, okay?”, he pressed out. He wouldn't be able to stand this physical attack much longer but Loki wouldn't show mercy until he knew where the copies were.

“I need the money… they won't have mercy. Y/n owes me… she owes me the money…I invested in her… I've debts…a lot of debts. I borrowed money from them…”

“Who are ‘them’?” Loki wanted to. Not that it was important, he was just curious.

“The mafia, the… New York mafia, guys from… the underground…”

“Then you shouldn't have messed up with them. I'm sure they'll take good care of you and your issues. It's none of y/n's business. She was definitely right when she told me you would never get enough. Did you really just try to sell her to me? You even tried to sell me the pictures of her for twice the money you're blackmailing from her. You're such a disgusting piece of shit. And for the record, y/n owes you nothing. But you, you owe her everything. She never wanted all that fancy stuff and your money that isn't even yours. She wanted to be loved and appreciated but all you did was just hurt and abuse her and keep her in a toxic relationship. You tore her heart out and destroyed her happiness. Slowly, torturously, every single day over so many years. You're a scourge, a fucking scourge, threatening everyone around you. You deserve no pity or any kind of sympathy. You used y/n, her trust and her love and mistreated her in every way possible. You nearly wrung the life out of her, you wanted to throw her under the bus. That girl sold her body out of necessity because you had nothing else to do but take advantage of her and blackmail her. And the worst thing is you blackmailed her with these photographs, her proof of love because she posed just for you and trusted you that you would never show them to anyone else. You're disgusting and pathetic and you will burn in hell for that. You don't deserve any good and you never deserved her. You just used her to save your own ass. I should kill you for that and believe me, I could do terrible, awful things to you but you're not worth it that I get my hands dirty on you. You're a disgrace, not worthy to be in the same room as her, not worthy to breathe the same air she breathes, not worthy to even look at her. She's a queen, a goddess and you were never worthy of her at all. And now listen very carefully! You will never reach out to her again or I will find a way to eliminate your pathetic existence.” Loki's voice was full of hate and wrath and there wasn't the slightest shadow of a doubt that he wouldn't do what he was telling him.

“She's under my protection now and you get out of her life for once and all! Got it, you little shit? Where are the copies?” Loki snorted angrily, nostrils flaring and teeth clenching.

“Yeah… got it…”, Ralph confirmed, desperately gasping for air his lungs were longing for. “On my laptop… there's a file on my laptop… that's all… I swear, that's all…”

Loki rose from the leather chair and with a flick of his hands the photos, the HD card and any other digital devices in Ralph's office and on any other desk on this floor turned into ashes, leaving a smoldering mess on every table of Ralph's company. When Loki's shadows vanished, Ralph crashed down to the floor and Loki saw that this pathetic nobody had pissed his trousers.

“Pathetic”, was Loki's only comment and with that he left Ralph's office without closing the door.

“Someone should clean up the mess and tidy up his room”, he said while passing the front desk lady, with her shocked face staring at her smouldering computer and phone. Loki quickly left the floor and finally the building. When he stepped out of the building the sun wasn't shining anymore. Rain was pouring down instead and the streets were already wet and puddles formed everywhere. Damn, he had forgotten to take his umbrella with him. He still lived undercover as Luke Larsson and as this alter ego he couldn't risk conjuring an umbrella under the eyes of Manhattan's inhabitants.

******************************

You ran through the heavy rain, desperately crying and your lungs aching from the exhaustingly run. But you didn't dare make a pause or run slower, you needed to find Loki and stop him. What if he had already killed Ralph? What if it were already too late? You ran and ran, water splashing up your trousers. You were holding your head down the whole time to save your face from the raindrops painfully hitting your facial skin. You kept staring down at the pavement while running through the crowded streets. The way to your former workplace didn't seem to end and you were close to giving up on your plan to save your lover from doing something really stupid when you finally arrived and suddenly bumped into a solid wall of muscles. Immediately, two strong arms were wrapped firmly around you and a familiar voice addressed you scoldingly but lovingly.

“Hey, watch it, girl!”

You looked up, the rain covering your face again.

“Loki, oh my goodness, Loki”, you gasped and hugged him ever so tightly that he moaned with laughter.

“Sweets, what are you doing here, I told you…”

“Loki, please…please tell me you didn't kill him…Loki…” you cried.

“Sweets, why should I…”

“Loki, why did you kill Ralph? Please tell me…please…why did you make such a mistake…I'm not worth it that you risk everything for me…”

“Sweets, calm down. Protecting the people you love is never a mistake… well, listen… everything is…”

“Loki I can't lose you, I can't. How am I supposed to live without you? They will take you away from me…they will bring you to Asgard and then…” you continued upset.

“Sweets, no one will bring me…” Loki tried to interrupt you.

“They will, Loki, they will…and I will never see you again…please, please don't leave me alone…I can't let you go…”, you sobbed desperately.

“Would you please listen to me just for a second, my love?” Loki asked you insistently.

He made you loosen your tight grip on him a little bit so he could look into your tear-stained eyes and talk to you. He cupped your rain-wet face with his big hands, his thumbs gently rubbing over your cheeks and he pressed a tender kiss to your lips. They were wet from the rain and your tears but the salty taste was delicious and the softness of your lips gave him the familiar comfy feeling in his gut. But it also felt painful and somehow like a goodbye.

“I didn't kill him. I only taught him a lesson”, Loki told you calmly after breaking the kiss.

“You didn't kill him?”

“No!” He answered softly and chuckled.

“You really didn't?”

“I really didn't!”

“The photos… What about the photos? And the video?”

“Destroyed, gone to ashes. Everything!”

“Are they? Really?”

“Yeah, really”, he responded, nodding affirmatively and smiling at you.

“I am… I am free now?” You asked unbelievingly. Loki hesitated for a moment before he gave you the answer. He didn't want to let you go ever again but maybe he had to.

“Yes, Sugar. You're free. You're free to go wherever you want. And… I'll keep an eye on you, I promise. I'll be there whenever you need me, sweets. I hope you get happiness soon, you deserve it, more than anyone else. You will always be in my heart and I will never forget you, my sweet thing. You showed me how love, care and adoration should feel and I'm so grateful for it and… I envy the man who is going to call you ‘his’ one day. What a lucky lad he will be.” Loki's voice broke a little bit and he was glad that it was still raining so you couldn't really see the upcoming tears in his eyes.

“Why would you say that? Why are you talking about another man? Why do you make it sound like this is our goodbye?” You were puzzled and rattled.

“You said, you aren't sure if you're ready for a new relationship, a relationship with me. You also told me that you would never fall in love with a client. And in the end, I maybe was never more than this, a client. And it's okay, I totally get that. I just want you to be okay. If you're happy, I'm happy too. I'll always be your friend,” Loki said with obvious sadness.

“I've already found him…” and you gave him a reassuring smile.

“You found who?”

“The man I want to be with… the lucky lad”, you told him, mischievously grinning.

“Yeah, I thought so… and it's understandable”, Loki confirmed and you couldn't help but chuckle.

“You're such an adorable, admirable, wonderful and beautiful charmer, Loki Laufeyson. You still don't know it? It's you. It has always been you!”

“But you said…”

“Yeah, I know… I said a lot of things, stupid things. But there's one thing I didn't say yet”, you told him softly, grabbed him by the collar of his coat and pulled him towards you.

“I love you, Loki, I love you more than I can tell or show you. You're everything to me”, and you pulled him in for a kiss, pressing your lips gently onto his. He swept his tongue along the seam of your lips, demanding entry and you opened your mouth willingly. This wasn't a kiss of passion or a kiss to evoke positive emotions. It was a kiss of revelation. It was a kiss filled with all the love you had inside of you for each other. Now he knew that he loved you, sincerely and genuinely, and he also knew that you loved him too in the same way. You had just told him and he knew that you would never lie to him. The truth was in that loving kiss.

“We should get you out of the rain, sweet thing. You're drenched to the bones. I don't want you to get ill, my love. Let me bring you home.”

“Home? Which home, Loki?”

“What do you mean, sweets?”

“Please, I'd like to go home with you. I don't want to be alone anymore…” Loki smiled brightly at you and pressed a kiss to your forehead, the rain still pouring down on you two.

“Let's get back to your home first so you can get some of your clothes and belongings and then we can go to my home if that's what you want. I'd love to take you home with me, sweets. I don't want to be alone anymore either. And later I'll take you out for dinner. I want to date you and spoil you. Would you like that, my love?” He asked you softly.

“You've no idea how much I'd like that, Loki”, you confirmed.

Loki felt a swell of emotion rise inside him and he didn't know if he wanted to smile or cry or both of it at the same time.

“Thank you, thank you for doing this for me, Loki. You risked your freedom and your life for me”, and you kissed him again and he was holding you so tightly as if the pouring rain could wash you away if he wouldn't hold you this close.

“I'd do anything for you. I'd spend the rest of my life in shackles and solitude as long as I know that you're okay, that you're happy and safe. And I swear, I never wanted to buy you, all I ever wanted was to help you, protect you, love you and have you by my side!” Water was dripping from his dark locks and the tip of his nose, and you were sure there were also some tears running down his cheek.

“I know, Lo, I know”, and a swell of tears prevented you from further talking.

Loki rested his forehead against yours and pulled you gently closer against his chest if that was even possible. He felt you trembling because of the rain and the upcoming wind and most possibly it wasn't just because of this. There was so much tension in you and so much pressure over the last months, emotionally and physically, and you still couldn't process yet what just had happened and what Loki had been doing for you. You would need some time to cope with the whole situation and to fully understand that you were truly free now.

“Let's go, sweet thing. You're dripping wet and shivering because of the cold”, and while he thought about calling for a taxi, a car's horn, which definitely was different from other horns, was honking invitingly. You both looked in the direction of that special noise and a big smile crossed your faces. It was Walker. He finally had made it through the traffic jam. You two hurriedly ran hand in hand to the limousine. Loki yanked the rear door open to let you get into the backseat first.

“C'mon, get in, you two love cats”, Walker insisted and he smiled at you both, a fatherly concern in his eyes.

You two slipped into the backseat and as soon as you were sitting next to each other, you began to laugh wholeheartedly. You two looked rather like completely drenched street cats than like two adorable love cats. Walker turned his head to look at you and joined in your laughter. Neither Loki nor you could remember the last time you were laughing that freely and genuinely. For the first time, you recognised Loki laughing like this and you were in awe at how beautiful he looked when he was laughing and you were sure his smile could cure all of your sadness, insecurities and fears.

“So everything is alright, I assume?” Walker wanted to know.

“Yes, everything is fine. We're so sorry, Walker, that we're ruining your backseat. I'll dry and clean it after reaching my apartment, I promise”, you told him while lovingly squeezing Loki's hand which rested on his thigh in the sodden trousers of his completely waterlogged suit.

“Don't worry about that, y/n. So, where do you want me to drive you and Mr Larsson?”

“Please drive us to my beautiful lady's home first and then it would be great if you could drive us to New Jersey, to my penthouse”, Loki asked him politely.

“Of course, Sir, as you wish”, Walker responded kindly and turned the key in the ignition. Ignoring the blare of car horns, he merged into the traffic to drive you two to your home first and he also put the partition up to give you some privacy.

With a slight side nod of his head, Loki's clothes went dry and his hair was all styled and fluffy again. Your mouth agape, you stared at him and formed a silent o with your lips and raised your eyebrows. You couldn't believe what you just had seen.

“How did you do this?” You asked him surprised when you had found your voice again.

“Ooh… ahhmm… sorry, old habits, sweets”, he answered apologetically. He wasn't aware that you had never seen him using magic.

“It's one of my many magical abilities. I'm sorry if it freaked you out.”

“No, no, not at all, Lo! It's cool. Can you do this drying thing on me too? I'd love to be dressed in my dry clothes again”, you sighed longingly.

“Of course, I can use my magic on you, too. I just wouldn't do it without your consent, and he looked deeply into your eyes, drowning in them and he urgently wanted to kiss you.

“You have it!”

“I have what?" His eyes, which had the aura of a lovesick panther, were still fixed on yours and you cupped his face to pull him in for the much-needed feeling of his warm lips on yours.

“My consent… you have my consent, Lo.” Your last words were a whisper and then Loki captured your lips with his. While he kissed you so deeply and passionately you felt how your clothes went dry.

“Thank you, you mumbled against his lips before you continued making out with your lover. As much as you enjoyed being dry and feeling more comfortable in your clothes again you couldn't deny how sexy and irresistibly arousing you found it to get physical with Loki when you two were in a drenched state. You should test it in a warm shower with him and you started giggling under the sweet torture of his lips, teeth and tongue.

“What?”

“It's nothing…"

“Ooh, I know there's something. What makes you giggle? Did I tickle you?”

“Nooo… I just thought about having sex with you and cuddly hugs in the shower”, you explained.

“Uhhh, you would like that?”

“I would!”

“Your wish is my order, sweet thing and you know that I'm eager to fulfil all of your wishes and needs and not only the naughty ones", he said softly and brushed a strand of hair tenderly out of your face and placed some more gentle kisses to your lips and finally to your temple.

“I want to ask you something”, Loki said, his tone a bit more serious again.

“What is it about?” You wanted to know.

“Do you think Walker would like to work for me?”

You just looked quizzically at him.

“I don't know. Maybe? You should ask him!” Loki nodded at you and pressed the button of the intercom to get in contact with the chauffeur.

“Walker, could you please put the partition down, I'd like to ask you something”, Loki addressed him and immediately the partition went down.

“Of course, Mr.Larsson. How can I help you?”

“Walker, you're one of the most loyal, friendly and reliable chauffeurs and men I've met in a very long time. The way you always supported and protected my beloved woman and I guess any other escort lady of Rhea's agency impresses me and … I would like to employ you. Could you imagine working for me? Exclusively for me? I need a reliable driver who lays great value on discretion and secrecy as much as I do and who would take good care of not only me and my family but also their safety and security in casualty when I can't be with them. It would also include driving a lovely woman and her wheelchair to any place at any time she wants, together with her daughter. You would only have to work in the daytime and driving us by night is going to be an exception. I'll pay you properly and I'll guarantee you excellent working conditions. You don't have to give me an answer right now. Take your time to think about it and… do you have a family?”

Walker was speechless because of Loki's extraordinary offer and he needed a second before he could speak again. He cleared his throat and answered Loki's question.

“Yes, I've got a family. My wife and three kids. I'm sure they'd be glad if I didn't work entirely at night anymore. Also, I'm not only a certified driver, I'm also a certified bodyguard so I could work as a bodyguard for your family too, if necessary. Working in the daytime would offer me more time with my offspring and the missus would be happy to spend more time with me, too.”

“Then discuss it with your wife and let me know your decision.”

“Thank you, Mr Larsson. I… I really don't know what to say and how to thank you. I truly appreciate your fantastic offer.”

“Not that for, and no worries, Walker. Take your time. And there's one more thing which might help you to make a decision. My name isn't Luke Larsson. I'm Loki Laufeyson and I've been living undercover here for twelve years now and you possibly know who I am. But I think you deserve to know who your might-be new boss is. And don't hesitate to refuse my offer. If so, that's just fine for me. I'd absolutely understand it and would totally accept it”, Loki said genuinely.

Now Walker knew why it clicked when you called him this morning and accidentally used Loki's real name.

“New York Invasion 2012. That Loki Laufeyson?”

“Yes, Walker, I'm exactly that man”, Loki confirmed. Walker nodded knowingly, directing his words towards Loki, looking smilingly at him through the rearview mirror.

“It won't have any influence on my decision, Sir. And if y/n trusts you, I'll trust you, too. There's no doubt about it. I'll talk to the missus tonight and I'll let you know about my decision.”

You stared unbelievingly at Loki. Did you get him right? He not only wanted Walker to work for him, but he also wanted him to work for you and your mum. You couldn't believe it.

“Loki, you… you also thought about my mum when you made him this offer? I… I don't know what to say”, you asked him surprised.

“Of course, I did. You're a part of my life now. And so is your mum and everyone and everything that belongs to you and I'll take care of that too”, he told you and with one of his hands he cupped your cheek lovingly. Your eyes teared up and your lips formed a silent ‘Thank you’. What a wonderful and caring man he was and you just hoped you could live up to his love.

***************************

In the early evening after bringing some of your belongings and the things you needed to finish your exams, there were just a few days left, and after some hours of cuddling and drinking tea, you were now sitting in a small, romantic Italian restaurant and having a wonderful candlelight dinner with Loki. A dinner you always had dreamt of you could have with him without the pressure of doing the job of an escort. Tonight you were here as his date, a real date and not a fake date. You wondered why you two were the only guests in the location and Loki explained to you that he had booked the whole restaurant because he wanted to be alone with you. It was so wonderfully intimate and you two enjoyed every second with each other, sharing food and wine, exchanging smitten looks and dreamy moments. Loki held your hand, kissing your knuckles from time to time and he never took his eyes off you. Intimate gestures and loving teasing didn't need any words. The atmosphere was perfectly harmonic. Was there anything more lovely?

“Have I already told you how gorgeous you look tonight in your lovely dress?” Loki gushed.

“No, not yet until now.” You knew that he would like your casual, sleeveless, nicely swinging black dress with the big white polka-dots and he didn't know yet that you wore the green silk lace panties of the lingerie set he had given to you.

“I'm so sorry, sweets, please forgive me. Your beauty makes me just speechless and it clouds my mind.”

“Charmer! As if you were any better, dressed in that dark green, half-opened shirt and your tight-fitting chinos. You're distracting me too and I know you're doing it on purpose”, you teased him and let your foot slide upwards over his shin between his thighs, and with your toes, you started playing with his crotch.

“What the hell are you doing there, you sweet little naughty thing?”

“Nothing”, you responded with assumed innocence, a mischievous grin curving your lips and you took a sip of your wine, looking temptingly at him over the rim of your glass. Loki grabbed your foot and prevented you from rubbing and massaging his manhood further and making him cum in his trousers. He had different plans with you.

“I'm so sorry”, you pouted playfully, licking your lips and placing your glass on the table.

“You're not but if you're a good girl for me and stop turning me on so shamelessly you might be rewarded later.” With your innocent smile and your sparkling eyes, you were hard to resist and Loki considered fucking you right here and now, bent over the table, your breasts exposed and your panties shoved aside, his stiff cock penetrating you pleasurably. But no, this date should be all about you and he had planned something sweet and lustful for you, something he would've loved to do much earlier at a former date and he was sure you'd enjoy it to the fullest. He'd let you fuck him later, at home, under the shower, against the wall or in his bed or wherever you wanted to make love with him. Tonight he was all yours.

“I'll be a good girl then, I prefer to get a reward”, you said smilingly and withdrew your foot. You shoved some spaghetti into your mouth, chewing and becoming thoughtfully.

“What is it, sweets? You seem lost. Are you mad at me now? I was just kidding… I thought you might like some lustful games. I love it when you touch me like this…”, Loki said apologetically.

“It's not because of that and no, I'm not mad at you, Lo. It's just… What happened in Ralph's office? I just can't get it out of my head. Would you mind telling me?” You pleaded for him to tell you about it. You needed to know it for your inner peace so you could close this painful matter.

Loki considered what to tell you and what he should better tell you not because he didn't want you to get hurt any further.

“I told him to stay away from you for the rest of his life and that I would find a way to eliminate his pathetic existence if he's not willing to follow my orders. I did it with a kind of physical force… guilty of that. But I swear I never intended to kill him. I'm well aware of the consequences it would have for me and I'd never risk that. I'd never risk losing you and I'd never leave you alone, sweets”, Loki answered your question and held your hand firmly and protectively in his.

“I know, Lo”, you whispered and a single tear escaped your eye, making its way down your cheek and a soft smile curving your lips.

“When you took a nap in the afternoon I did some research and contacted some business friends for further information about your shitty ex. He has not only lent money from the New York mafia, he also has gambling debts with several New Yorker underground guys, more gambling debts than he can handle. He also kept living beyond his means and he was never good enough to run a company on his own. You were absolutely right, he never gets enough and he tried to use you to save his ass.”

“Yeah, everything makes sense now and I always sensed there's more about it. He would never have stopped if you weren't there…”, you sobbed quietly and Loki caressed the back of your hand tenderly with his thumb.

“Don't think about it anymore, my love. It's over now, you're free and I'm with you and I'll keep you safe. I always have your back”, Loki told you comfortingly.

“Please help me to forget and to start my life anew. Free and without those disgusting threats”, you muttered and kept smiling lovingly at him.

“I'm here and you're already in the middle of the beginning of your new life and I'm with you and I won't go, I'll never leave you alone, sweet thing”, Loki assured you and with your free hand, you reached over the table and cupped his cheek. He leaned into your touch and before you withdrew your hand again he pressed a tender kiss to your palm.

“Thank you for this wonderful dinner, thank you for everything. Did you recognise that this is our first date as y/n and Loki and not as ‘Sugar and Luke’?” You asked him, changing the topic. You didn't want to talk about Ralph ever again. Mentally you let him go to ashes as Loki did with your pictures and the sex tape. He would never influence your life again.

“Yes, now that you mention it, and … my pleasure. I always wanted to have an evening like this with you”, and you both chuckled. It was followed by a deep loving stare into each other's eyes and you couldn't stop doing it.

You finished the main course peacefully and waited for the waiter to take your plates. Loki asked him politely to not disturb you anymore and the waiter nodded and left the dining area. You were completely alone now just as Loki had booked it.

“What about a dessert? You know how much I love desserts. Why did you send him away?” you pouted and Loki smiled brightly and mischievously at you.

“What are you up to, handsome?”

“Come here, sweet thing”, he commanded seductively and you stood up from your chair and rounded the table, your finger slowly trailing over the tablecloth.

“What do you want, loverboy?” You purred velvety and moved like a cat, slowly and lurkingly, prepared for any dirty little game he wanted to play with you.

“I want a dessert”, he murmured and his deep demanding voice sent a shiver down your spine.

“You once said you hate desserts…”

“Did I? Well, I said a lot of things,” and he rose from the chair, grabbed you carefully but firmly by your hips and placed you on the top of the table, staring deep into your sparkling eyes. You spread your legs for him so he could stand between them.

“Yes, you did”, and you watched him slowly unbutton his shirt completely, tugging it out of his chinos and when he finished, you yanked him closer and shamelessly touched his abs and well-toned pecs.

“Yes, I said a lot of things but there's one dessert I'd never deny”, he answered devotedly. “Keep touching me, sweet thing.”

“Here? We're in a public place, Lo. Anyone outside can see us!”

“Don't worry, I took care of that. I'd never expose you like that. No one will see or hear us. Please, keep going, my love”, and you followed his wish and let your hands explore his torso further. He obviously enjoyed it as much as you did. You knew he would never lie to you and that you were safe with him.

“What dessert is it? What does it taste like?”

Loki's answer was a devouring kiss, his tongue playing eagerly and lustfully with yours as if it were the last time he would be allowed to kiss you. His fingers played with your nipples which lay already stiff under the thin fabric of your dress. You moaned into his mouth and your upcoming wetness began to drench your panties and the tablecloth. When Loki broke the kiss you both gasped for air.

“Its taste is sweet, tempting, alluring and it beguiles my senses”, he whispered against your lips.

“Like chocolate?”

“No, like sugar but so much sweeter and I only got a hint of it so far and I definitely need more”, and he sank on his knees pulling your ass closer to him.

“You just got a hint of me on our first night together and you still remember how I taste?”

“How could I forget about that? It haunted me, sweets. Your scent, your softness, your wetness, it haunted me every night but I know it was worth the wait. Please let me have you, let me give you the pleasure I promised you.”

“Yes, show me! Put my mind at ease, Lo and take your dessert. I need you and I need your hot tongue licking that sensitive spot of mine. Please redeem me, make me forget”, you begged him desperately and he slowly shoved the skirt of your dress up to your waist and pulled impatiently at your underwear. He needed to have you and he wanted to have your taste on his tongue. He had been waiting for it for so long.

“Nice panties, sweets. But we need to get them off”, and you lifted your butt a bit so he could slide them down. He winked at you and put them into the pocket of his trousers. He looked so good on his knees and he was so beautiful it hurt.

You laid your back down on the table top when he began to pepper soft kisses to your inner thighs, inching closer and closer to the spot where you wanted him and then he finally buried his face in your crotch. He spread your legs wider and held you by your hips and with the flat of his tongue he licked gently over your clit and you shuddered in response.

“Please, don't stop…”, you murmured and sighed heavily.

“I won't, sweet thing. You taste too good to stop”, he moaned with pleasure.

Loki began to lick you quicker and harder and vigorously ate out your cunt as if he were possessed by it. You could just cry out in pure lust. Loki sucked at your throbbing clit and licked around your sensitive bud in firm circles, the tip of his tongue teasingly licking your entrance. You squirmed and writhed under his delicious torture, your back arching, your legs shaking as he brought you close to the edge. It wouldn't take you long until you would explode and you whimpered loudly when he withdrew his tongue from inside of you and stopped licking you just before you were close to your orgasm.

“Come for me, sweet thing, let go and give it all to me, give yourself to me, fully and completely”, Loki told you as his fingers ran along your clit and you clenched around nothing. You arched your hips against him and he slipped two fingers gently inside of you, curling them up and teasing your inner spot, causing you to let out a throaty moan.

“Norns, I love it when you moan for me. Let me worship you”, Loki groaned and sucked hungrily at the soft flesh of your inner thigh. He withdrew his fingers, made you lick them clean and immediately his magical lips were all over your lady parts again. You positioned your upper body on your elbows and watched him. You needed to see him, kneeling in front of you between your thighs, feeling his tongue moving furiously over your clit. It didn't take long and your much-anticipated climax washed over you.

You threw your head back and moaned deeply and after a few seconds of recovering, he was teasing you again and put his mouth back on your still swollen and sensitive clit, flicking his tongue over it and making you come for a second time. You were crying out his name, your back on the table again, your legs resting on his shoulders. Your hands grabbed his head and you raked your fingers through his thick curls. This man knew exactly what to do with his tongue. He was truly a magician.

“It felt so good, Lo. It was the best cunnilingus I ever had”, you whispered blissfully when you caught your breath again and he raised from the floor, pulled your upper body upwards flush against his chest and enveloped you in a loving embrace.

“My pleasure, sweet thing. I'm glad that you enjoyed it”, he cooed.

“I definitely did, Lo. Best dessert ever. Thank you”, you mumbled against his cheek and your lips found his to kiss him ardently.

“I hope the dessert was to your liking and you enjoyed it too”, you asked him, your hands caressing his nape, and you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him close to you.

“Ohhh yes, I absolutely did enjoy it, my love. The way you flush when I make you come, the way you throw your head back in that special moment of bliss, the way you moan for me, is so beautiful, sweets. You are beautiful and you taste so good. I can't get enough of you”, he whispered against your lips and claimed your mouth in a heated kiss. The taste of your juices and your scent were lingering on his lips and it somehow got you hot and bothered again.

“Please give me my panties back, Lo.”

“Why do you want to have it back, hm?” He purred against your soft and kiss-swollen lips.

“You already have stolen one and the one you have stolen from me just now was a gift”, you pouted sweetly. You felt so free now, worshipped and craved and you were satisfied to the core.

“A gift?” He teased, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips.

“Yes, a gift. It's a gift from the man I love”, you purred.

“Is that so?”

“Yes, it is”, and you captured his mouth by tenderly kissing him. You could still taste yourself on his soft lips.

“What if I want to keep them?” He teased further.

“For what? Why? What are you doing with them?”

“I used the other one to get some steam off, on the lonely nights when I missed you terribly and imagined you touching me, sucking me, making me moan your name. So at least I had your scent and the softness of your panties and rubbing them all over my body, and jack off and cum all over them was so arousing and satisfying”, he muttered lasciviously against the soft and sweaty flesh of your throat.

“You nasty, nasty boy”, you scolded him playfully, tugging his curls gently. Loki chuckled lightly, tilted his head and sucked and bit your earlobe tenderly. You could only make a faint groan.

“But still… I want it back. Please, Lo. You'll have me every day and night from now on. And I really love that lingerie you've given to me.” You still held him captive with your arms entwining his neck and your legs wrapped firmly around his slender waist.

“As you wish, my queen”, and immediately your panties dangled on his long index finger right before your nose.

“Thank you”, you whispered and with a quick, soft peck on the lips you took the panties off from his finger. “Can we go home now? I'd like to get back to the shelter and comfort of your cosy home and I can't wait to strip off your clothes and worship your divine body. And until then my panties stay off, just for you”, and you smiled mischievously and seductively at him.

“Can't wait to get fucked by you. Norns, you're driving me wild, sweet thing”, and he kissed you demandingly and deeply. Since he made you come twice he has been on edge.

“Let's get home then, my sweet lover, let me return the favour and make you happy.”

You two left the restaurant, entered the limousine’s backseat and asked Walker to drive you home. You were well aware of his massive boner, visibly bulging his trousers. You sat glued to him, took his hand in yours, intertwined your fingers with his and with your other hand you held him firmly by his biceps and rested your head on his shoulder and Loki rested his head on the top of yours. You inhaled his scent deeply. An alluring mixture of his expensive cologne, masculinity, arousal and that special something you still couldn't decipher. You felt his heart pounding fast when you moved your hand from his biceps to his chest and placed it in the open V of his half-buttoned shirt. You saw his cock twitching with anticipation and smiled.

“Are you aching for me, Lo?”

“Yes, you have no idea how much”, he answered devotedly and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head. He then placed a finger under your chin and made you look at him. In the dim light of the limousine’s backseat, it wasn't clearly visible but you were sure there was a reddish shimmer in his eyes, slowly replacing the familiar piercing blue and his pupils were dilated with lust and desire.

This man burned for you and you would feed his flames. Tonight you would become his forever and he would become completely yours. No more fears, no more secrets.

🌹🥂🌃🌹🥃🌃🌹🥂❤️❤️🥃🌹🌃🌹🥂🌃

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