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#hes doing nothing and my mind is doing everything
pucksandpower · 2 days
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Used to be Mine
Oscar Piastri x Reader
Arthur Leclerc x ex!Reader
Summary: Oscar stole everything from Arthur … his hopes, his dreams, his family name, and you
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Arthur slumps in the hard chair across from Jock Clear’s desk, the Ferrari Driver Academy director’s words echoing in his mind. “I’m very sorry Arthur, but we’ve decided not to renew your contract for next season. You’ll be released from the program at the end of this year.”
Arthur feels like he’s been punched in the gut. This can’t be happening. He’s poured his heart and soul into racing for Ferrari’s junior program for years. His dream has always been to follow in his older brother Charles’ footsteps and race for the Scuderia in Formula 1.
“But … why?” Arthur manages to choke out. “I know my results this season haven’t been that great but fifteenth in the F2 standings-”
Clear shakes his head solemnly. “Your pace and racecraft simply haven’t developed at the rate we need to see to justify keeping you in the program, Arthur. I know how hard you’ve worked, but there are other young talents coming up behind you showing greater potential.”
The word “potential” hits Arthur like a dagger. Ever since he was a kid, that’s what he’s heard over and over — unfavorable comparisons to Charles’ unlimited potential. He always knew his big brother was special behind the wheel, but he’d clung to the hope that he could make it to F1 through sheer hard work and determination if not raw talent.
Clearly that hope was misguided. Arthur feels the sting of failure wash over him.
“I … I understand,” he forces out, struggling not to break down in tears right there. “Thank you for the opportunity.”
He stands up shakily, the room spinning. He needs to get out of here.
The drive back to his family’s home in Monaco is a blur. Arthur’s mind races, years of sacrifice and struggle swirling in his head. Endless days and nights on the simulator. Grueling hours in the gym, pushing his body to its limits. Tormenting himself over endless data traces, looking for even a tenth of a second to gain an edge.
All for nothing. The harsh truth is he’ll never be good enough. No matter how hard he tries, the Leclerc name will always belong to Charles. Arthur will be forever known as his little brother, the one who couldn’t quite cut it.
He slams his fist against the steering wheel, angry tears now streaming down his face. Why did he ever think he could do this? Why didn’t he just pursue something, anything else with his life? He’s wasted years chasing an impossible dream, and now he has nothing to show for it.
His phone rings, almost slipping out of his trembling hands before he can answer. It’s you.
“Y/N ...” Arthur chokes out, trying and failing to hold back his sobs.
“Arthur? Oh my god, what’s wrong?” You ask, panic in your voice even through the tinny speaker. Of course you can sense something is desperately wrong. You’ve always been there for him, the one person who truly understands what he’s been going through.
Arthur can barely get the words out between ragged breaths. “The … the FDA ... they’re releasing me ... it’s over ...”
There’s stunned silence on the other end of the line.
“Arthur, I ...” You trail off, at an uncharacteristic loss for words. You know how much this has meant to him. How much of himself he’s given to this endeavor. “I’m coming over right now, okay? Don’t do anything stupid. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
You hang up before Arthur can respond. He’s not sure if that’s a good thing or not. Part of him wants to wallow in despair alone. But mostly he’s grateful you’re coming. He’s not sure he can handle this by himself right now.
Sure enough, you burst through the front door only a few minutes later. Arthur has collapsed on the couch, head in his hands as the tears continue to flow.
“Oh Arthur ...” You sit down beside him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him into an embrace. He turns and buries his face in your shoulder, no longer trying to hold anything back as ragged sobs wrack his body.
You just hold him, making soft hushing sounds and stroking his hair. You’ve seen him distraught before — after tough losses or crashes. But never quite like this. This is the cry of someone whose dreams have been shattered.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Arthur’s sobs begin to subside into hitching breaths. You grab a tissue box from the end table and hand it to him.
“Thank you,” he mumbles, blowing his nose loudly. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I just … I don’t know what to do. What am I going to do now?”
You take his hand and give it a squeeze. “First, you’re going to breathe. This isn’t the end of the world, I promise. We’ll get through this.”
Arthur lets out a shaky exhale, trying to calm himself. You always have been the level-headed one. He leans back against the couch cushions, keeping your hand grasped tightly in his.
“I really thought I could make it, you know?” He says quietly. “I’ve given everything to this stupid dream ever since I was a kid. But I’ll never be good enough, will I? Not like Charles.”
You open your mouth to protest, but Arthur barrels on, unable to contain years of self-doubt and insecurity any longer.
“Don’t try to argue. We both know it’s true. Charles was always the special one. The one with the generational talent. I was just … there. Doing my best to keep up, but always a step behind no matter how hard I worked.”
You shake your head vehemently. “Arthur, that’s not true at all. You’re an incredible driver. Your work ethic and determination are-”
“Meaningless without the talent,” Arthur interrupts bitterly. “That’s all that matters in the end. And I don’t have it, not like Charles does. I’m just … normal. Ordinary. That’s why Ferrari has moved on.”
You move closer, taking Arthur’s face in your hands so he has to look you in the eye. “You listen to me, Arthur Leclerc. You are anything but ordinary, understand? You’ve accomplished more by the age of 23 than most people could dream of in their entire lives. Making it all the way to F2 and the Ferrari Driver Academy is incredible, no matter what happens next.”
Arthur tries to turn away, but you keep his gaze locked, your voice rising in intensity. “If you were ordinary, you wouldn’t have been able to push yourself so hard for so long. Ordinary people would have given up a long time ago. It’s your extraordinary drive and passion that have taken you this far.”
Tears are welling up in your eyes now. You can’t stand to see him diminishing himself like this.
“Besides,” you add, managing a small smile. “I may be biased, but I’ve always thought you were the most extraordinarily kind, caring, and hilarious person I know. That’s a kind of specialness in itself, you know.”
Arthur lets out a choked laugh, wiping at his eyes again. Leave it to you to know just what to say to raise his spirits, even a little. “You always have been weirdly good at these pep talks.”
“Well, someone has to keep your head from getting too big,” you quip back with a grin.
Arthur mock-gasps in feigned offense. “Why, you little ...”
He lunges at you, starting to mercilessly tickle your sides. You squeal with laughter, trying in vain to fight back as you quickly devolve into a giggling, flailing mess of limbs.
You’ve been reduced to teary hiccups when Arthur finally relents, allowing you both to catch your breath. He throws an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close.
“You’re the best,” he murmurs softly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
You rest your head against his shoulder contentedly. “Let’s just take things one day at a time for now, okay? We’ll figure out what’s next together, like we always have.”
Arthur nods, feeling a deep sense of gratitude and love for his girlfriend. No matter what curveballs life has thrown your way, you’ve always supported and uplifted each other. He knows that won’t change, even if his racing dreams don’t pan out.
“Together,” he echoes, giving your hand one more tight squeeze. Whatever the future holds, he can get through it with you by his side.
Maybe his path won’t lead to Formula 1 after all. Arthur feels a pang of sadness and disappointment at that realization. But as long as he has his family — has you — to lean on, he knows he’ll be okay. That love and support is what has always truly mattered most, not chasing some impossible dream.
“You know, we should see if Charles wants to come over later,” Arthur says, the hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “I haven’t roasted his abysmal fashion sense in way too long.”
You burst out laughing at that. Only Arthur could find his way back to laughing and joking so soon after having his world turned upside down. It’s just one of the many things you admire about him.
“Oh my god, yes please,” you reply once you’ve caught your breath. “His outfit at the last race was literally a crime against humanity. Someone needs to intervene before he traumatizes us all again.”
The two of you spend the next little while cheerfully trading escalating insults about his big brother’s admittedly questionable clothing choices. The mood has lightened considerably, at least for now.
Arthur knows the sting of his failure will return, the questions about what he should do next weighing heavily. But you’ll be there for those hard moments too, just like always. As long as he has you — his best friend, his other half — he can face any challenge life throws his way.
The uncertain road ahead is daunting. But Arthur meets it with determination burning in his eyes. If he couldn’t make it as a Formula 1 driver, he’ll simply have to find a new dream to chase. A new mountain to climb. Whatever it is, he knows you’ll be alongside him every step of the way.
***
Six Months Later
The roar of the engines fades as the cars return to the pits after qualifying. Arthur can’t tear his eyes away from the timing screens:
1. C. LECLERC
2. O. PIASTRI
A Leclerc front row lockout at their home race. Except one of them isn’t really a Leclerc at all.
“Nice one, Piastri-Leclerc!” One of the McLaren mechanics calls out as Oscar climbs from his car.
Arthur’s gut twists.
Oscar just grins and plays along. “Thanks, it’s all in the family name!”
A few of the Ferrari mechanics chuckle at that as Charles emerges from his own car, beaming. He pulls Oscar into a hug. “A Leclerc one-two in Monaco, who would have thought?”
“There’s just something about being a local,” Oscar laughs. “Thank you for giving me yet another home race.”
You appear then, throwing your arms around Oscar with a squeal. “My two favorite Leclercssss!”
Arthur has to look away, his face burning. He knows he has no right to be jealous. Oscar is one of his best friends. And you … you made your choice a long time ago.
“Arthur?” Fred Vasseur appears at his side. “You okay?”
Arthur forces a smile. “Yeah, all good. Just … focused.”
“No need to be so tense,” Fred squeezes his shoulder. “You did a great job in the sim this week. That data helped Charles and Carlos a ton.”
“Glad I could help,” Arthur says automatically.
But his gaze is drawn back to where you’re still hugging Oscar tightly. You look so happy, so carefree. It wasn’t that long ago that your smiles were for him.
“You know,” Fred says conversationally. “I’m getting a lot of questions about what you’ll decide to do next. Every time you’re in that sim or out on track-”
“I’m fine being test driver,” Arthur interrupts, maybe a little too brusque. “Really, I am.”
Fred studies him for a beat. “If you’re sure. Just saying, the doors are opening ...”
The team principal moves off then, leaving Arthur alone with his swirling emotions. He can’t get swept up in maybes about his future. Not when his past is standing right there, laughing at some joke Oscar made.
You’d think after all this time, the sight of you wouldn’t affect him so much. You broke his heart so thoroughly when you ended things, he didn’t think there were any pieces left to shatter. But here he is, a mess of jealousy and longing, just because you gave Oscar a hug.
“Arthur! There you are!”
He turns at the sound of your voice. You’re hurrying towards him, Oscar and Charles trailing behind with indulgent smiles.
“We’re going to get some dinner if you want to join?” You ask brightly.
He has to swallow hard before he can speak past the lump in his throat. “I … don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Of course it is!” You grab his arm, utterly oblivious to his discomfort. “We’re all friends here, right?”
“Some of you were a bit more than friends once upon a time,” Charles points out with a wicked grin.
You shove him playfully. “Oh shut up!”
Arthur feels like he’s being stabbed in the heart. Your break up turned his life upside down. Hearing you joke about it so casually now is excruciating.
“Seriously, Arthur,” Oscar cuts in. “Come celebrate with us. We promise not to get too crazy.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Arthur tries again, harsher this time.
You frown, tilting your head in confusion. “Why not? I thought we were all past the whole ex thing?”
“I am,” he lies through gritted teeth. “I just … have some stuff to work on for the race tomorrow.”
“Oh come on,” you wheedle, giving him that smile that used to make him melt. “Take a break! Live a little!”
Arthur can’t take much more of this. He needs to get out of here before he says something he’ll regret. Or worse, does something stupid like pull you into his arms and kiss you senseless.
“Seriously you guys, I’ve got work,” he says, forcing himself to take a step back from you. “I’ll … catch up with you later, okay?”
He doesn’t wait for a response, just turns on his heel and stalks away. He can’t bear to see the hurt, confused look on your face.
Why did he think this would be okay? That he could spend day after day around you and it wouldn’t still hurt? Every smile, every laugh, every touch you bestow on Charles and Oscar is like a white hot poker in his chest.
He thought he was over you. He really did. It’s been months since you ended things, months since you shattered what was left of his heart into a million pieces.
He’d been so shocked, so heartbroken, that all he could do was sit there numbly as you walked out of his apartment. When he finally found his voice, hours had passed, and you were long gone.
“But I love you,” he’d whispered into the empty room.
He’d been so sure you felt the same. That what you had was forever. But you made your choice, as simple as that. Arthur never came first.
And now, half a year later, here he is. Living out some twisted version of his dream … but only just. A test driver for Ferrari instead of a race driver like he always imagined. Like Charles, who had achieved everything they both wanted.
Arthur leans back against the wall of the cool, dark room he’s found himself in. It feels like the pain of your rejection is never going to stop haunting him. Like no matter how much time passes, it will never be enough to make up for losing you.
He squeezes his eyes shut, trying and failing to block out the memory of your face, your smile, your laugh. All the moments of pure joy you two had shared. The dreams you’d whispered to each other late at night, tangled in the sheets.
Is this his lot in life from now on? To watch you move on, all smiles and teasing jokes with Oscar and Charles? To see everyone welcoming Oscar into the family while Arthur is shut out in the cold?
He’s startled from his spiraling thoughts by a knock at the door. “Arthur? You in there?”
It’s Charles. Arthur flinches, swiping a hand over his eyes.
“Yeah, I’m here,” he calls back, grateful that his voice doesn’t shake.
There’s a pause. “Can I come in?”
Arthur considers sending his brother away. He’s in no state for a heart-to-heart right now.
But he can’t bring himself to refuse Charles. Not when they’ve been through so much together, from the karting tracks of their childhood to the highest levels of motorsport.
“Yeah, okay.”
The door opens and Charles slips inside. He stops short when he sees Arthur, brow furrowing in concern.
“Hey … you okay?”
Arthur can’t even find it in himself to fake it. He just shakes his head mutely.
“Is this about Y/N?” Charles asks gently.
And just like that, the dam breaks. Arthur squeezes his eyes shut again, but he can’t stop the tears from spilling over.
“I thought I was over her. I really did,” he chokes out. “But seeing her with Oscar … celebrating like that ...”
Strong arms wrap around him then, pulling him into a hug. Arthur goes boneless, sagging against his older brother as the sobs take over.
“Shh, I’ve got you,” Charles murmurs. “Let it out.”
Arthur does. He cries and cries, shoulders shaking, as months of pent-up heartache pour out of him. Charles just holds him through it, rubbing soothing circles across his back.
“I’m s-sorry,” Arthur finally gasps out. “I’m being so stupid ...”
“You’re not stupid,” Charles says firmly. “Love isn’t stupid, Arthur. Especially your first real heartbreak. That shit hurts like hell.”
Arthur lets out a watery chuckle, finally pulling back and swiping at his eyes. “How do you always know exactly what to say?”
“Well, I am the wise older brother,” Charles grins. Then he sobers, studying Arthur carefully. “Seriously though … you know Y/N loved you, right? What you two had was real.”
“I know.” Arthur shakes his head. “Doesn’t make it any easier seeing her move on so quickly.”
“She’s not over you either,” Charles says gently. “That’s why she keeps trying so hard to act like everything is normal between you two.”
Arthur scoffs. “Could’ve fooled me with all the cuddling up to Oscar out there.”
“Oh come on, you know that’s just a joke,” Charles says with a roll of his eyes. “Oscar is like family to us, same as you. That’s all it is.”
“Yeah? Well it didn’t look that way to me.”
“Arthur ...” Charles puts a hand on his shoulder. “I think you need to have an actual conversation with Y/N. Clear the air once and for all. This lingering stuff is only going to keep eating you up inside.”
“What if she really has moved on?” The thought is like a vise around Arthur’s heart. “What if she tells me she’s dating Oscar for real or something?”
“Then at least you’ll know,” Charles says simply. “It will hurt, yeah. But not knowing, constantly wondering … that’s so much worse. Trust me.”
Arthur is quiet for a long moment, turning Charles’ words over in his mind. Maybe his brother is right. Maybe it’s time to rip off the bandaid once and for all.
He nods slowly. “Okay. I’ll ... I’ll talk to her.”
“Good.” Charles pulls him in for another hug. “No matter what happens, you’ve got me, okay? We Leclercs need to stick together.”
Arthur manages a small smile at that, feeling just a bit lighter. “Yeah. We do.”
As he follows Charles out of the room, he catches sight of you across the paddock, laughing at something Oscar said. A familiar ache blooms in his chest.
But this time, he doesn’t run from it. This time, he’s going to face it head on. His heart may end up in even more pieces … or maybe, just maybe, it will finally start to mend.
Either way, at least he’ll know. No more lingering what ifs. Just the truth, whatever it may be.
He takes a deep, steadying breath, then starts making his way towards you.
***
Arthur’s steps falter as he rounds the corner of the McLaren garage. There you are with Oscar, bodies intertwined, lips locked in a heated kiss.
It feels like all the air has been sucked from Arthur’s lungs. He can’t breathe, can’t think. He just … freezes, rooted to the spot, watching in numb horror as the two of you make out shamelessly right there in the open.
This can’t be happening. It has to be some kind of twisted nightmare. But no matter how hard he blinks, the scene before him doesn’t change.
You and Oscar are really kissing. Properly sucking face like loved-up teenagers, hands roaming over each other greedily. Oscar has you backed up against the garage wall, bodies pressed flush together from chest to thigh.
Arthur feels like he’s going to be sick.
Finally, mercifully, you two break apart, foreheads pressed together as you both gasp for air. Arthur should look away, he knows he should, but he can’t seem to make himself move.
“So much for keeping it professional in the paddock, huh?” You murmur, voice husky.
Oscar lets out a breathless chuckle. “Who cares about professional? Not when I’ve got you all to myself for once.”
He leans in to kiss you again, but you put a hand on his chest, stopping him. “We should find somewhere more private if we’re gonna keep this up.”
“My driver’s room?” Oscar suggests, already palming at the small of your back.
You shiver, pushing up onto your tiptoes to brush your lips against his jaw. “Lead the way, Piastri-Leclerc.”
And just like that, you’re gone, disappearing into the depths of the McLaren garage, hands roaming and giggling like lovesick fools. Arthur watches until the door swings shut behind you, cutting off that haunting sound of your laughter.
Then he’s moving without conscious thought, staggering back around the corner and out of sight. His back hits the cool concrete wall with a thud, but he barely notices. Barely notices anything except the ragged, gasping breaths being torn from his lungs.
He doubles over, hands braced on his knees as he struggles not to vomit right there in the paddock. It feels like someone has driven a white hot poker straight through his chest. Like his heart is being crushed into a million pieces all over again.
Oscar and you … together? Actually dating? How … how could you do this to him? To yourself? Everything you two had built together, every future dream you had shared … tossed aside so easily?
Tears burn at the corners of Arthur’s eyes. He wants to scream, to punch a wall, to unleash the searing agony and fury ripping through him. But he can’t make a sound, throat locked up tight with unshed emotion.
He should have known, really. Should have seen this coming. It’s not like you and Oscar were hiding your connection. The loving looks, the inside jokes, that easy intimacy and affection … Arthur had just been too blinded by jealousy and heartbreak to see it.
But to find out like this? To literally walk in on you two wrapped around each other? It’s a whole new level of pain, lancing through him over and over. He’s always imagined that you would have the decency to at least tell him first if you moved on with someone new.
Unless this has been going on for a while already, hidden from him in plain sight. Every laugh, every hug, every teasing comment … was that all a lie to cover up your dirty secret with Oscar?
Arthur’s stomach churns violently again at the thought. He swallows hard, fighting back the nausea. He can’t lose it here, can’t draw any attention to himself. He needs to get it together, block out the image of you and Oscar swapping spit.
Easier said than done when his brain keeps unhelpfully replaying the way Oscar’s hands were roaming over you, groping at you like you belonged to him. And that laugh … god, that beautiful, carefree laughter that Arthur would know anywhere. A sound that used to make his heart soar whenever it was aimed at him.
Now it’s like a knife in his gut to hear you giggling that way with Oscar, no doubt blissed out after a hot and heavy make out session. Arthur’s jaw tightens, a muscle ticking furiously. He would give anything not to have walked in on that, not to have that sound burnt into his brain forever.
At least now he knows the truth. The humiliating, gut-wrenching truth that you’ve well and truly moved on from him. And with Oscar of all people, like the ultimate slap in the face.
What kind of cruel joke is this? Arthur wonders, still fighting to steady his ragged breaths. He loses the girl he wanted to spend forever with … only to have one of his mates swoop in and take her from him?
It’s not just you that Oscar has stolen either, Arthur realizes with a sickening jolt. It’s everything. With you on his arm, Oscar is welcomed into the family, called a Leclerc at their home race. Arthur’s own last name, treated like some kind of lighthearted joke while the real thing is ripped away from him.
Oscar even gets Monaco as a home race, just like the actual Leclercs who grew up here. All because of some dumb joke about Charles adopting him. Arthur had laughed along with it at the time, never imagining the underhanded truth.
Oscar Piastri has wormed his way into having everything Arthur wanted more than anything. The career, the family, the girl … all of it, just handed to him on a silver platter.
White hot fury flares in Arthur’s chest, momentarily burning through the heartbreak. How dare Oscar do this to him? How dare he make a mockery out of Arthur’s dreams, out of everything the name Leclerc stands for?
Arthur barely registers that he’s moving until his fist connects with the concrete wall with a sickening crunch. He lashes out again and again, pummeling the unforgiving surface over and over until-
“Arthur! Hey, whoa!”
Suddenly there are hands on him, strong and insistent. Arthur starts, accidentally slamming his abused knuckles into a firm chest as Charles appears, grabbing hold of his shoulders.
“Easy, easy! What the hell are you doing?” Charles meets his gaze, eyes wide with concern.
Arthur blinks dazedly, pain finally registering from his torn up, bleeding knuckles. “I … I didn’t ...”
“What happened?” Charles presses, lowering his voice when Arthur winces. “Did you get into it with someone? Talk to me, please.”
Arthur opens his mouth, fully intending to tell Charles everything. About walking in on your incriminating embrace with Oscar. About the way it felt like his entire world shattered all over again. How Oscar has stolen every single thing that should have been Arthur’s by birthright.
But when he tries to vocalize the words, to unleash the storm of emotions battering him from the inside out … nothing comes out. His throat remains locked up tight, breath wheezing harshly.
Charles is watching him, eyebrows knitted with worry. “You’re really freaking me out here. What’s going on?”
Arthur squeezes his eyes shut, shaking his head helplessly. He feels like he’s drowning, lost in a whirlpool of jealousy and despair that’s slowly suffocating him.
When he opens his eyes again, Charles is still waiting, patient and steady as always. Something in his brother’s calm, anchoring presence helps Arthur regain just a little bit of control. Enough to grit out a few words.
“Oscar. And Y/N.”
That’s all he can manage. But judging by the dawning comprehension on Charles’ face, it’s enough. The older Leclerc lets out a slow breath, gaze turning sympathetic.
“You saw them together,” he says, not a question.
Arthur nods jerkily, jaw locked.
For a long moment, Charles is silent. Taking it all in, no doubt. Then … “I’m so sorry, Arthur.”
Arthur’s breath hitches harshly before he can stop it.
“Hey, hey.” Charles pulls him into a tight hug, tucking Arthur’s head under his chin. “It’s gonna be okay. I’ve got you, little brother.”
Arthur stiffens for just a second before melting into the embrace, squeezing his eyes shut once more. He takes a shuddery breath against Charles’ shirt, then another, just trying to hold himself together.
“I’m here,” Charles murmurs, rubbing his back soothingly. “We’ll get through this together, yeah?”
Arthur doesn’t trust himself to speak, so he just nods against Charles’ shoulder. He clings to his brother like a lifeline, grateful beyond words that Charles is here to anchor him when it feels like his world is crumbling all over again.
He has no idea how long they stay like that, locked in that tight embrace. Long enough for the sharp edges of Arthur’s anguish to dull, at least a little. Long enough for his ragged breaths to even out into something closer to normal.
Finally, Charles gives him one last squeeze before gently pulling back, keeping a firm grip on Arthur’s shoulders.
“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up,” he says, eyeing Arthur’s bloodied knuckles with a wince.
Arthur follows his gaze, grimacing at the sight. “Shit, I ...”
“It’s okay,” Charles says quickly, sliding an arm around Arthur’s back. “I’ve got you.”
He guides Arthur through the paddock, shielding him from view with his body. Arthur is grateful for the discretion — the last thing he needs right now is prying eyes and questions about his meltdown.
They make it back to the cool shadows of the Ferrari motorhome without incident. Charles sweeps them into one of the private rooms, locking the door securely behind them.
“There, just us,” he says, squeezing Arthur’s arm reassuringly. “Why don’t you sit down and tell me what happened?”
Arthur sinks down onto the worn sofa, feeling numb and drained. He stares at his mangled hands as Charles darts away, returning a moment later with a first aid kit and a damp cloth.
“This might sting,” Charles warns, taking Arthur’s hands with surprising gentleness.
Arthur barely flinches as his brother starts cleaning away the blood and grit from his torn skin. He’s retreated deep inside his own head, memories from that hellish scene on an endless loop.
You and Oscar, tangled together so intimately. The way you looked at each other, breathless with desire. The easy intimacy and obvious hunger in every heated caress.
Arthur squeezes his eyes shut, but it does nothing to block it out. He’s never going to be able to unsee that, he realizes with a sick lurch. It’s seared into his brain forever, a brand new source of unrelenting torment.
“Arthur?” Charles’ soft voice cuts through his spiraling thoughts. “What happened? Talk to me.”
Arthur blows out a shaky breath, forcing himself to meet his brother’s concerned gaze.
“I went to find Y/N,” he starts in a dull rasp. “To … to get some closure, I guess. Finally rip off the bandaid like you said.”
Charles nods in understanding, staying quiet to let Arthur continue at his own pace.
“But when I turned the corner of the McLaren garage ...” Arthur’s throat works convulsively, the memory surging back in vivid technicolor. “They were there. Making out like a couple of horny teenagers.”
He falls silent again, the words cutting off as a wave of fresh agony washes over him. God, the visual is never going to stop haunting him, is it?
“Oh, Arthur ...” Charles murmurs, squeezing his hands gently. “I’m so sorry.”
Arthur lets out a bitter huff. “Sorry? Don’t be sorry for me, Charles. Be sorry for yourself.”
Charles frowns in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“Oscar,” Arthur grits out, white-hot anger flaring once more. “He stole her from me, sure. But he also stole our name. He gets to be a Leclerc now, a mockery of our home streets. Just because you stupidly joked about adopting him.”
He surges to his feet, unable to stay still with all this wrath and hurt burning through him.
“Everything that was supposed to be mine, Charles!” He shouts, prowling the room like a caged animal. “The career, the family, the girl … Oscar has taken it all! With a few laughs and some dumb jokes!”
“Arthur, that’s not fair ...” Charles tries, but Arthur barrels right over him.
“No? Well how about this — let’s see how funny those jokes are when Oscar decides he actually wants to be Charles Leclerc!” Arthur snarls. “He’ll take your career next, you watch! Take away everything that makes you special, everything that’s yours by right!”
“Arthur.” Charles is on his feet now, reaching out to grip Arthur’s shoulders firmly. “Listen to me. You need to calm down, okay? Oscar isn’t trying to take anything from us. He’s our friend!”
“How can you say that?” Arthur demands, anguish cracking through the rage. “Don’t you see what he’s done? What he’s taking from me?”
He’s breathing hard now, vision swimming as tears of mingled fury and heartbreak prick at his eyes.
“That was supposed to be my future, Charles,” he rasps. “Y/N and I … we had plans. Dreams of a life together.”
Arthur swipes angrily at the tear that escapes, blurring his vision. “Oscar doesn’t get to take that from me. He doesn’t get to make it all a mocking joke.”
“Arthur ...” Charles looks stricken now, shaking his head slowly. He pulls Arthur into another fierce hug, tucking the younger man’s head under his chin.
“I’m so sorry,” Charles murmurs, voice thick with emotion. “I’m so sorry he hurt you like this. You don’t deserve that … any of it.”
Arthur lets out a choked sob against his brother’s shirt, all of the fight abruptly draining from him. He’s just … tired. Wrung out and hollow, aching down to his very core.
“This wasn’t how it was supposed to go, Charles,” he whispers brokenly. “Oscar was my friend … how could he do this to me?”
Charles doesn’t seem to have any answers. He just holds Arthur tighter, rocking them gently from side to side as Arthur finally gives in to his emotions. He buries his face in Charles’ shoulder and weeps — for his shattered dreams, his shredded heart, and a future that now feels impossibly out of reach.
As the sobs gradually subside, a final bitter thought takes root in Arthur’s mind. If Oscar is going to steal away the girl Arthur loves, the family he was born into, and the future he had mapped out for himself ... then Arthur hopes to god the Monaco curse falls on Oscar just as harshly as it ever has for a Leclerc.
Maybe then Oscar will finally understand just how much he’s taken from Arthur. How many dreams and pieces of Arthur's very identity he’s carelessly crushed in his quest to make himself a Leclerc on everything but paper.
Arthur’s tears have dried, leaving his cheeks chafed and eyes swollen. But the hollow ache in his chest remains, throbbing in time with his ragged breaths. He stays huddled against Charles, taking what little solace he can from his brother’s presence.
It’s all he has left now. Oscar has snatched away everything else that ever mattered to Arthur. His future, his past, his home ... all of it, gone in a spiral of heated kisses and breathless laughter.
If the cost of having it all is the Monaco curse bearing down on him, then so be it. Arthur finds himself almost hoping Oscar gets everything he so greedily took, the consequences be damned. Maybe then, just maybe, he’ll finally understand an ounce of the anguish and heartbreak he’s inflicted on Arthur.
It’s a dark, vindictive thought, one that makes Arthur's gut twist with shame. But he’d too drained, too devastated to truly care. He just presses closer to Charles, craving the simple comfort of family as reality crushes him from all sides.
His dreams, his heart, his identity ... all stolen by a former friend turned ultimate betrayer. If the Monaco curse is all Arthur has left to cling to, then so be it.
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espinosaurusrexex · 2 days
Text
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
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all image credit goes to @animarvelita on TikTok (there's more at the end)
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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...
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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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cutielando · 18 hours
Text
the curse of monaco
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Synopsis: Charles finally breaks the curse of the track that has haunted him his entire life.
Words: 1.4k+
Other works: my masterlist
a/n: this is probably the fastest i've ever written something, so i'm sorry if it sucks a little lol
♡♡♡♡♡
There was nothing like racing through the streets you grew up in, Charles would always say to you.
In all the years you had known him and been with him, he had only had one goal: winning the Monaco Grand Prix. 
You didn’t know why that was, whether it was a tribute to his late father, a tribute to Jules or just the pride of knowing he conquered the streets he had walked his entire life. Maybe it was a combination of all 3.
Charles had not been treated well by his home race the past couple of years. 2 DNFs, 1 DNS and 2 disappointing results had plagued his mind, making the weeks leading up to the race filled with more stress than he should carry.
But you had a good feeling this time. Ever since he got into the car in FP1, then topping the charts all throughout FP2 and FP3, you felt something in your gut change. For once, after so many doubtful years, there was no worry and disappointment in your heart as you waited in the garage for the qualifying session of the weekend. Every negative feeling was replaced with hope, so much hope that you didn’t know what to do with it.
Charles was the complete opposite. While he couldn’t deny that the car had finally come alive and he had the pace he needed, he felt like he couldn’t let himself hope too much, not after everything he’d been through.
“Come on, you know I’m right. You’ll be on pole and you’ll win the race” you said to him as you lounged in his driver room, watching him get dressed in his fireproofs and racing suit.
“Mon amour, you know how Monaco is. I don’t want to get my hopes up and then be disappointed if I don’t get pole or don’t win” he reasoned, but deep down he was feeling the exact same thing you were.
“But this year is going to be different, I know it will!” you pressed on, making him chuckle in adoration at the hear of your determined voice. “Every other driver has said the same thing and every presenter from F1 TV is saying you’re definitely going to break the curse tomorrow” 
“Have you been watching F1 TV again to hear what they have to say about me?” he teased, laughing once he sees the blush creeping on your cheeks.
“That’s not the point. I’m telling you, I have a good feeling about tomorrow. But still, no pressure. You go out there, drive safe and come back to me in one piece. If you end up winning, that’s great, but if you don’t, we’ll get them next year. Sounds good?” you bargained, knowing that he didn’t need any more pressure added on his shoulders than he already had.
He sighed but nodded, pausing his actions to give you a kiss.
“Let’s do it then”
And, true to his word, he came back to you, in one piece, starting from pole in the Monaco GP.
♡♡♡♡♡
There was something special in the air as you entered the paddock with Pascale and Arthur, making your way towards the Ferrari hospitality to watch the race. The entire city of Monte Carlo was absolutely buzzing with excitement, the paddock feeling more alive than ever as their home hero prepared to take on the beautiful circuit that was Monaco.
You didn’t see Charles before he got into the car, you didn’t want to cause him any kind of distraction before he started the race, but you couldn’t help sprinting down to the garage during the Red Flag, knowing you had plenty of time before the race would start up again.
Finding him wasn’t hard at all. He was speaking with his mechanics, drinking some water out of his bottle.
You approached him hurriedly, at which he excused himself from the conversation once he saw you approaching him.
“Mon amour, is everything okay? You’re supposed to be with maman, Arthur and Joris up in the hospitality” he said, worry etched on his face.
“Everything is fine, don’t worry. I just came down here to wish you good luck, you know, once FIA decides to restart the race” you joked, hoping to make his spirits lift up a little.
He chuckled, but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. You could see the stress sitting behind the facade, the worry and pressure tensing up his muscles and demeanor.
Noticing you studying his face and realizing you knew how stressed he was, he smiled and wrapped an arm around your waist.
“You know we’re proud of you no matter what, right?” you whispered, thankful for the loud sounds of mechanics working left and right that helped drown out your conversation to other people around you.
He sighed, but nodded. “I know, but I just can’t shake the stress. I’ve been quick all weekend and everyone knows that. What if something happens and my race goes to shit like every time? I don’t think I’ll be ready to cope with another disappointment from my home track” he confessed, which made your heart squeeze.
His entire life, the only thing that he wanted was to win in Monaco, but the track has always failed him. And for once, he felt like he could finally break the curse that has been following him around for years, yet he still worried that something would completely ruin his race.
“Baby, nobody will think less of you if you don’t win today. Racing is so unpredictable, you put your life in danger every time you get in the car and people know that. We’ll be proud of you no matter the outcome today” you said, holding his face in your hands to make sure he understood you.
He bit the inside of his cheek but nodded, knowing you were right. 
“I love you” he murmured, pressing his lips against yours in a passionate kiss.
“I love you too. Be safe out there and show everyone what you’re made of” you said once you pulled away, smiling and pecking his lips once again before leaving him to it.
You made your way back to the hospitality where Charles’ family was waiting for you.
“How is he?” Pascale asked you as you sat down next to her.
“He’s stressed, but he’s doing okay. He really wants to win today” you explained, running a hand through your hair.
Pascale nodded, knowing how important this day was for her son.
“He’ll win, I can feel it” Pascale said, taking your hand in hers.
♡♡♡♡♡
Some people would say that you bewitched your fiancé, some would say that a divine force had finally taken pity upon him, but only one thing was for certain.
Charles Leclerc had finally won his home race, the Monaco Grand Prix.
From the moment he had crossed the finish line and taken the checkered flag, everything that happened was a blur. Between hugging his family, texting your friends, crying because of how proud you were of him, things were a big blur. 
Hearing him screaming on the radio had been what had made you break down. He had spent so many hours training, figuring out strategies, doing everything in his power to make sure that things would go well for him around his home streets and his hard work had finally paid off.
You couldn’t hold in the excitement that you felt, the pride you held for the man you loved more than life itself. Which frankly explains why you hurried out of the Ferrari hospitality and ran to the grid where the Ferrari mechanics were waiting for Charles.
The moment you saw him get out of the car and throw himself at his team, the cascade of tears began once again, blurring your vision which now only consisted of the red teamwear all around you.
“Y/N!” you were snapped out of your thoughts by Charles’ voice, who had noticed you crying as soon as he hugged his team.
The Ferrari mechanics quickly made way for you, letting you jump into Charles’ arms and wrapping your legs around his waist as he hugged you tightly to his body.
“I did it, Y/N. I finally did it” he cried into your shoulder, which made you let out more tears and squeeze him even tighter than you already were.
“I told you, I knew you were going to do it. My Monaco winner” you pulled away slightly to kiss him, taking his face in your hands.
The entire team cheered around you, paparazzi taking pictures upon pictures of the moment shared between you.
“I love you so fucking much” you whispered against his lips, making him grin widely.
“I love you too”
And with that, the Monaco curse has finally been broken, once and for all.
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23victoria · 16 hours
Text
“I Love You”
f1 grid x fem!reader
this is a drabble based of the “i love you but not saying it back to your partner” tiktok trend
wc: 1.7k
authors note: this is my first drabble! any feedback is appreciated and please like, comment, and reblog!! hope you enjoy!!
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Lewis
You saw this TikTok trend and found it funny. Lewis was getting ready to go to his training session so it was the perfect time. Setting up your phone discreetly to capture the moment, he walked to the door, ready to leave.
“I love you,” he said warmly.
“Bye!” you responded, busy with mixing the batter for your cupcakes.
Lewis paused, a bit taken aback. “I love you,” he repeated, louder this time.
“Bye, Lewis! Hurry or you’ll be late!” you repeated, waving him off.
Lewis’s brow furrowed slightly. “Is everything okay baby? Did I do something wrong?”
“Lewis everything is fine, you can’t be late for your training session. I’ll see you later!” you say still paying him no mind, making sure the batter is mixed smoothly.
Lewis starts to worry that he did something wrong. “Baby I'm sorry if I did something that upset you. Can you please say I love you back” he says getting ready to cancel his session.
Finally, you broke into laughter, revealing you were just playing with him. “No, it’s just a TikTok trend. I promise you did nothing wrong. I love you baby!” you say walking up to him.
Relieved, Lewis laughs giving you a quick kiss. “You got me good. I love you too,” he said, leaving with a smile.
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Max
You are always up for a good laugh, so you decided to try the trend with Max before he heads to his meeting.
“I love you,” Max said, grabbing his keys to the car.
“Bye, Max. Be safe!” you responded nonchalantly from the couch watching a true story documentary.
Max stopped in his tracks. “I love you,” he repeated, his tone more insistent.
“Bye!” you replied, looking at the tv with a faint smirk.
Max’s usually confident expression faltered. “Is something wrong? Why aren’t you saying it back?”
“Saying what back?” you say with a confused face trying to mask your laughter.
“I love you, Y/N. Say it back.” Max says no longer in the door but in front of you blocking the tv.
You couldn’t keep a straight face any longer and burst out laughing. “It’s a just TikTok trend, babe!”
Max's shoulders dropped in relief, laughing with you. “You made me so worried! I thought I did something to piss you off or forgot an important day! I love you too.” he says shaking his head making his way to the door.
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Lando
Lando loves to play tricks and pranks on you so you decided it’s time to return the favor. You set the camera up on the dresser as you sit up in bed. Lando is on his way to film a YouTube video for Quadrant.
“I love you,” he said cheerfully.
“Bye, Lando!” you replied, focused on your phone.
Lando stops in his spot, staring at you. “I love you,” he repeated, sounding more unsure.
“Bye! Have fun!” you said again, trying not to smile.
Lando’s playful demeanor turned serious. His heart racing. “What’s wrong with you?”
Looking at him confusedly, you say “Nothing, why?”
“Why? Um, maybe because you aren’t saying “I love you” back to me” Lando says now siting on the bed infront if you.
“Did I do something wrong? Why won’t you say it back” he adds.
Unable to play along anymore you laugh, saying “It’s just a TikTok trend, baby.”
Lando lays his back in the bed singing in relief, “You scared me, I was about to call Oscar and ask Lily to see what’s wrong with you.
“Aww baby” you say moving to laying on top of him. Smiling at him while you kiss his nose you say, “I love you!”
Lando smiles hugging you and flipping you over so now he’s on top. “I’m so gonna get you back, but I love you too.” he says giggling in your neck.
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Charles
Charles was going to take Leo for a walk, you decided to stay back to make lunch. You set up the camera on the kitchen counter ready to prank Charles.
“I love you,” he said softly, giving you a kiss on the cheek as he hold Leo in his hands.
“Bye, Charles. Bye, Leo!” you say only paying attention to Leo not him.
Charles repeats himself. “I love you, mon cherìe” he says again, a little louder.
“Bye!” you repeated, paying him no mind.
Charles’s face showed genuine concern. “Is everything okay? Did I upset you?”
“Yes everything’s fine.” you say trying to ignore his presence again.
He sets Leo down and stares and the side of your head and says even louder, “I love you, mon chéri”
You do your best to hold your composure and not laugh while focusing on the task in front of you, “Bye Charles, be safe!” you say in a normal voice.
Charles' eyes bore into you and the next thing you know, you feel one hand under your chin, the other on your waist turning you to face him. “I.” Kiss. “Love.” Kiss. “You.” Kiss.
You smile as he kisses you between each word, giggling at him, you say “I love you Charles.” “I’m just playing with you baby, it’s a trend going around on TikTok.”
Charles shakes his head and laughs. “Don’t ever do that again, mon chéri” “You really had me worried. Thank you for finally saying it back. I love you too.” he says smiling cheekily, giving you a kiss on the lips before he’s out the door with Leo.
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Oscar
The trend has been going around on TikTok for a min now and you immediately knew you had to play this prank on Oscar. He’s always so calm and laid back so you wondered if this will get to him. He’s getting ready to leave to record some videos with Lando for McLaren, so this is the best time to do it.
“I love you,” he said with a smile, halfway out the door of the hotel room.
“Bye, Oscar!” you replied, not meeting his eyes.
Oscar stopped dead in his tracks looking confused. He turns his body around at the door. “I love you,” he says again, trying to get your attention.
“Bye, Oscar!” you respond, hiding your smile behind the blanket as you play a game on your phone.
Oscar still has a confused look on his face as he says, “I love you, Y/N.” You don’t respond instead just straight up ignore him.
He walks back into the room, closing the door. He stands at your side and repeats himself with his arms crossed. “I love you Y/N.”
You look up at him and say “Okay, hurry and go before you're late!”
Oscar looks at you dumbfounded and gets on the bed laying on top of you. You groan and try to push him off, “Oscar get off! You're going to be late! You have to go! you say still trying to escape free.
“No, not until you tell me what I did to make you so upset that you're not saying “I love you” back to me” he says , putting even more of his weight on you.
You laugh saying, “Aww, babe, it’s just a prank.“ It’s a TikTok trend!”
Oscar lifts himself off of you, and sighs in relief laying next to you, laughing. “You know I only just joined TikTok, you had me really worried there. You laugh rolling on him to give him a kiss. “I know. I love you too, babe, even if you do act like a millennial sometimes.”
“Hey!” he says as he rolls over trapping you as he attacks you with tickles to your stomach and kisses all over your face.
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Carlos
Carlos is on his way to a photo shoot with Charles and Ferrari for Vogue. You decide it’s the perfect time to do the TikTok prank on him.
“I love you,” he says, giving you a kiss on the forehead, his eyes twinkling.
“Bye, Carlos!” you reply, barely glancing at him as you walk away.
Carlos paused, looking puzzled. “I love you,” he repeated, his tone even louder.
“Bye!” you say again, stifling a giggle as you sit on the couch, searching through Hulu for a show to watch.
Carlos’s face falls. He walks towards you and says your name. You ignore him and now he’s sitting on the couch next to you just staring.
Feeling his eyes burn through the side of your head you turn to him and say “Did you forget something? You can’t be late for this photoshoot.”
“Ah okay, I see how it is. You acknowledge my presence to ask me if I forgot something but you can’t say “I love you” back to me?” he says moving closer to you on the couch.
Ignoring what he said, you say “Bye!”
Carlos doesn’t move and just sits there and grabs your chin and says “Repeat after me cariño. Say “I”
“Bye” you say.
“No, say “I”, he says again.
“Bye.” you respond.
Carlos shifts in his seat moving even closer to you, saying “Cariño say the word “I”
You look Carlos dead in the eyes and say “Bye.”
“Okay, that’s how you wanna play.” he says as he tackles you softly on the couch, your back hitting the sofa with him on top of you pulling your shirt up revealing your stomach.
Holding the shirt he says, “I’m going to ask you one more time, cariño, say “I love you.”
“No.” Just as that word escapes your mouth you feel him blowing raspberries on your stomach, tickling you as you try your best to escape from his hold. “Say it!” he yells. “No!” and now he’s biting your cheeks and kissing you all over your face.
“I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you” Say it back he says not stopping his attacks.
“Okay, okay!” “I love you, Carlos,” you say breathlessly.
Laughing as you try to catch your breath. You kiss him all over his face, telling him, “It’s just a TikTok trend, baby. You know I love you so so much!”
Carlos laughs, “Of course it is, you and your TikTok addiction” “Hey!” you say eyes wide as he calls you out. “I’m just playing cariño, your TikTok addiction is cute, not so nice when the tricks are played on you huh?” “Yea, yea, whatever!” You say pushing him off smiling.
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© 23victoria 2024 I all rights reserved. do not republish, steal repost, modify, translate, or claim my work as your own.
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pynkfairyheart · 2 days
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pairings: eren x virgin!reader
warnings: smuuttt 18+
Stress Reliever
“Mama, calm down” Eren followed as you paced around the room, before plopping down onto the bed, a pout resting on your face.
“But Eren, what if I fail?” Tears of frustration building in your eyes. Tomorrow was the day you presented your capstone project, and reasonably you were stressing.
Eren had been doing his best to calm your nerves all week, giving you massages, making your meals, and helping you study. It just wasn't enough for you though, you were too nervous.
“Baby, you're not gonna fail, you're the smartest girl I know, and we've been over it a thousand times, I know you're gonna do great you just have to believe in yourself, baby”
“Let's just go over it one more time” You stood, immediately silenced when he lifted you up and laid you back down on the bed, hovering over you as he started to litter kisses onto your face.
“Stop worrying ma, you'll do great, just relax” His grip tight as his fingers dug into the flesh of your thighs, spreading them to make room for himself.
This simple action having your heart race. Despite being together for almost a year nothing happened between you two. Mainly because you both wanted to build a relationship that wasn't based on sex, but also because you were nervous. He was your first everything, and as gut wrenching it was to say, you weren't his.
“Eren” Your breath hitched as his bulge brushed against the crotch of the thin fabric that made up your pajama shorts.
“You gotta relax, ma. You gone let me help you?” He murmured as he kissed his way down your neck.
Maybe this is what you needed, your anxiety to just flow out of you with a mind boggling orgasm.
“Yes” You released a breath.
“Good girl” He smirked kissing you once more before he undressed you, savoring the way you squirmed underneath him.
“You're so beautiful, mami” He whispered as he took his time exploring every inch of your body with his hands and mouth before stopping right in front of your pajama clad pussy, traces of your arousal seeping through the fabric.
His fingers hooked around the waistband of your pants as he tugged them down, your clit slightly peeking out from behind your glistening folds.
“She's so pretty, baby,” He groaned, his thumbs spreading your folds apart as he pressed light kisses to your clit.
“Eren” You silently begged for more friction.
Indulging in your neediness he licked up a long stripe of your arousal. Strings of the fluid mixture connecting his tongue to your pussy.
“Shit, baby, you taste so good.” He dug his fingers into your thighs, burying his face into your folds.
His tongue flicked against your clit, teasing you with each lap before sucking softly, tongue swirling around the bud as your hips bucked. The flat muscle slurping up long stripes of your pussy.
“Fuck, Eren oh my god” You heaved, hands pushing the loose hair out of his face.
He hummed in approval, the vibration sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. The sound of his name leaving your lips only spurred him on as he sucked harder, teeth grazing the sensitive bud lightly.
“I'm so close, pa” You whined, looking down at him, his eyes closed as he ate you like a starved man.
Your thighs closed around his head as a response to the tightening knot in your tummy, the bite he delivered to your inner thigh releasing a yelp from your glossy lips as you opened them wide. The glare he sent your way turning you on more than it should.
“Let go mama, I'm here” His low voice muffled by your folds as he added a thick digit into your sopping pussy, walls clamping around it at the curl of his fingers and his tounge tracing a zigzag pattern on your clit, before he sucked on the pulsing bud.
“Papa” You cried as he slurped up the juices flowing from your pussy.
“Wait, pa, I can't- too much” You protested, thighs clamping around his head as he lapped at your pussy, sliding in another digit.
“Just one more ma, you taste so good” He licked the insides of your thighs, before pushing them up to your chest.
“And don't close your fucking legs again”
˚୨୧⋆.
“Did so good for me, pretty” He panted after ripping two more orgasms from you. Kissing and licking his way up your body, before he engulfed you in a passionate kiss, your taste lingering on his tongue.
“Need you inside, now. Please papa” You begged.
“Are you sure?” Despite just sucking your soul from your pussy, he was still a sweetheart. Green eyes rapidly scanning your face for any sense of doubt.
“Yes, please” You tugged on his shirt revealing the sight sheen of sweat on his toned muscles.
“I'll go slow, but all you have to say is stop and I will okay?” He reached down into his sweats, stroking himself before pulling them down. Boy was he hung, prominent veins along the circumference of his dick, and his red tip leaking pre-cum from the occasional grind he delivered to the mattress while having you cream on his fingers.
“Okay” You let out a shaky breath, nerves rising as he rubbed his tip through your folds, collecting your slick before lining up with your entrance.
“Don't worry baby, just relax for me” He whispered in the crook of your neck as he pushed himself in.
The stretch was borderline unbearable as you felt him slide into your walls. He was thick, and having a hard time moving an inch without you squeezing him so tight.
“Relax princess, let me in” He whispered, taking note of your nails breaking the skin of his back, and your furrowed eyebrows as you tried to adjust.
“M’trying s’jus too big” You practically cried.
“I know, mama. Wanna stop?” He pressed loving kisses to your forehead.
“No, no I can take it. Just keep going” He went slowly, taking his time to minimize the discomfort, and look for any signs of pain as he nestled in between your legs, tip brushing against your cervix.
“Doing so good for me, princess. Just relax” He soothed once you gave him the green light to move.
Before you knew it he was whispering nasty things into your ear as he pounded into you, your second orgasm from his thrusts building in your lower stomach.
“Taking this dick so good for me, ma. Fat ass pussy squeezing me so tight” He grunted, tits bouncing at his feverish movements.
The room was hot and filled with your moans, and slapping skin as Eren pounded into you. He was slowly losing control, relishing in the way your pussy welcomed him in, the white creamy stickiness at the base of his cock having his brain go fuzzy. His only objective to have you cum on his dick over and over again till you were fucked senseless.
“Papa t-too much- mhmph too deep” You cried, despite wrapping your legs around his waist to bring him closer.
“S'too deep? Thought you could take it, baby. Thought you were my good girl” He faked his concern, bullying his dick into your warm walls.
“I am” You pouted, nails digging into his biceps as he pressed down on your chubby tummy, smirking when he felt his dick poking his hand.
“Then nut on your dick, mama. Be a good girl for daddy” The dam breaking immediately when he rubbed tight circles on your clit.
“Shit” He moaned, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he painted your walls with his sticky cum.
“Did so good, baby” He whispered in between kisses as he fucked his load back into you.
“S-sensitive, pa” You whined as you pushed his hips away, earning a pinch to your hand and fake pout.
“I know” He faked sympathy, pushing your legs up against your chest.
“But I want you to do well tomorrow, lemme make sure I fucked all the anxiety outta you. Yeah?”
wrote for my babes who needed an eren during their finals week cause ik i needed one ૮꒰ྀི˶˃ ⌓ ˂˶꒱ྀིა
anywayssss i gotta question. does anyone have any tips on how to length the smutty scenes i feel as if they're too short but im not 100% sure on how to add more detail. any feedback is appreciated mwah<333
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therealmrsgojo · 2 days
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Bigger Than The Whole Sky
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pairing: gojo satoru x reader content: "Mommy? How much did Daddy love us?" warnings: NSFW, MDNI. established relationship, wife reader, pregnant reader, angst, comfort, canon-divergence. wordcount: 5k
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As the soft, caressing night breeze murmurs through the air, two figures lie entwined, seeking solace in each other's arms. They cherish the steady ebb and flow of one another's breath, relishing the warmth and intimacy it bestows.
The weight of the day's challenges had been almost too much for you to bear. The endless routine, the constant demands, the unrelenting pressure to succeed—it had all taken its toll on your mind and body.
But as you felt the familiar scent of your husband, Gojo Satoru, envelop you, it was as if all the weariness and tension melted away, leaving you nothing but comfort.
His touch was like a balm to your soul, easing the ache in your heart and filling you with a deep sense of love and belonging.
The world could spin on its axis, and the stars could twinkle in the sky, but as long as you were in his arms, you knew everything would be alright.
Safe.
He had always made you feel safe.
His phone's ringing broke the peaceful silence, alerting him to a message. You watched as he reached for it on the nightstand, his fingers deftly navigating the screen.
When he leaned in closer, you felt the warmth of his breath and the soft touch of his lips as he placed a tender, affectionate kiss on the side of your head.
His hand then gently moved down, his fingertips tracing a delicate path to caress your small, yet prominent, stomach bump.
You lay perfectly still, willing your eyes to remain shut. Seeing a message flashing on his phone could only mean one thing.
Jujutsu Society.
"Sweetheart?" Satoru's gentle voice whispered to you, concern evident in his tone. "Are you feeling okay?"
"I am," you replied, slowly opening your eyes to the dimly lit room. You locked eyes with him, seeing the worry etched on his face, which elicited your chuckle. "You have worn that concerned expression ever since I became pregnant, Satoru."
He let out a soft chuckle as he gently brushed your hair away from your face, a boyish grin lighting up his features. His deep blue eyes seemed to be committing every detail of you to memory as he spoke, "Naturally, I don't want my precious wife to endure any discomfort, and the well-being of our little one is just as important to me."
He rested his head gently on your belly and showered your bare skin with tender kisses. His touch was so gentle, so loving, that it felt like he was worshipping you in that moment. 
You could feel his lips continue to pepper your skin with delicate kisses, each one sending shivers down your spine. The sensation was so intimate, so raw, that it made your heart swell with joy.
The soft strands of his hair felt like silk against your fingertips, and you relished the feeling of being so close to him. It was as if the rest of the world had faded away, leaving just the two of you in your little bubble of happiness.
Loved.
He had always made you feel loved.
"What was that?" You asked, intrigued by the sudden message he had received in the dead of night.
"It's Shibuya," he finally said, his voice low and urgent. "I'm needed."
"What's happening in Shibuya?" you asked, your voice filled with worry.
"I don't know yet," he admitted. "But I have to go. I'll let you know as soon as I can."
You felt your heart rate quicken as you sat in silence with him, unsure of what to say or do. You unconsciously began picking at your nailbeds, a nervous habit you couldn't shake off in moments of discomfort.
"Hey, Y/N," he said softly, reaching for your hands and gently placing them on his cheeks. "I promise this won't take long. Let me quickly go and wake someone up so they can keep you company."
Worry.
His work always made you worried.
"It's okay. There's no need to wake anyone up. I'm just barely five months pregnant, so there's no need to worry about me giving birth or anything like that." You quickly interjected, "Just make sure to return quickly, okay?"
Although you were now the head wife of the Gojo clan, you couldn't help but feel sorry for the servants. They were always at your beck and call, attending to your every need. You knew they had other duties, but they never complained.
Gojo Satoru flashed you a warm smile and replied, "Of course!"
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"Good morning, Y/N-sama," Hana, one of the personal maids appointed to attend to your needs, greeted you with a warm smile as she entered the room, carefully holding your freshly laundered robe. "Your bath is ready, with the water at the perfect temperature, and breakfast is being prepared."
The room was bathed in a gentle morning light that filtered through the curtains as you stirred.
With a tender understanding of your struggle with your growing bump, Hana gracefully approached and extended a helping hand to assist you in rising from the bed.
"Is everything okay?"
"Yes, everything's fine. I think they're kicking more these days, though." You said as you stood up. "Is Satoru home yet?"
"He's not, Y/N-sama; we'll let you know if he is." 
As a frown etched itself onto your face in response to her words, you turned away and made your way towards the bathroom, dismissing her without a word. 
The sound of the door shutting behind you filled the room as you slowly stripped off your clothes and stepped into the warm embrace of the bathtub.
As the water cascaded over you, your mind was filled with thoughts. Guilt gnawed at you for being able to sleep soundly while he was still not home. The weight of worry and concern settled heavily upon your shoulders.
However, as you gazed down at your hand, the sight of your wedding ring momentarily eased your troubled mind. The diamond sparkled and glistened as it caught the light, offering a glimmer of comfort in the midst of your turmoil.
-
"Alright, but can you give me a second? I'll dress first. I need to go to the bathroom." he removes himself from the bed you two share.
"Okay," you replied, admiring the flexed back muscles in his bare back as he picked up his new clothes and approached the bathroom.
You slowly lifted yourself from the bed, and the cozy sheets clung to your skin. You grabbed your phone from the nightstand, hoping to pass some time. As you scrolled through your notifications, you heard the sound of the bathroom door opening. 
You were surprised at how quickly Toru had finished in there. You turn your head in their direction, "That was fast, Toru-"
He approached you with a small box in his hand. Suddenly, he dropped down on one knee, and with trembling hands, he opened the box, revealing a magnificent diamond ring brighter than any jewelry he had ever given you as a present. 
The sparkle of the diamond was so intense that it caught your eye and made you gasp in amazement.
You were so taken aback that you dropped your phone, and it clattered to the ground. Your eyes widened with shock, and your hands instinctively flew to your mouth as you gazed into his eyes, trying to make sense of what was happening.
"Some people might choose to do this with a fancy dinner, or on a yacht under the fireworks, or even on the highest building in the world with all the people they know," he began, his voice quivering with nervousness. "And I can do that too. I'll do that for you, too," he laughed softly,
"But, doll, (Y/N)," he paused, taking a deep breath. " I've chosen this place, right here, because waking up with you every morning is the best thing I have ever experienced in my entire life. The way you smile at me every morning and make me feel loved and wanted is a feeling unlike any other." His voice trailed off as he looked deeply into your eyes.
"And I want to do that every day with you," he continued, his voice gaining strength. "I want to be a constant in your life, partner, friend, and your lover. I want to wake up next to you every morning, until my last breath, as your husband." Tears welled up in his eyes as he uttered the following words.
"Will you marry me?" the words left his lips, and a grin appeared your face.
-
You chuckled softly as you thought back to when Gojo Satoru proposed, feeling warmth wash over you and completely dispelling the earlier worries weighing on your mind.
You had just finished your bath and took the time to carefully select your outfit for the day, feeling refreshed and ready to start your morning. As you reached out to grab your phone and make your way out of your room, the sound of a gentle knock at the door caught your attention.
"Y/N-sama, there is a guest named Shoko waiting for you in the living room," Hana said, bowing respectfully. The unexpected news took you aback. 
"Thank you, Hana." You left the room, accidentally leaving your phone behind.
As you strolled through the grand hallway of your sprawling estate, you marveled at the beauty of your surroundings. The walls were adorned with intricate paintings, and the floors were gleaming marble.
You had always known you were lucky to live in such a magnificent place, and it still took your breath away every time you walked through it.
You caught sight of the familiar figure of the brown-haired woman who works alongside your husband. 
"Good morning," you greeted warmly as you reached her.
Your smile quickly faded as you saw Shoko's eyes filled with sadness and concern.
Unbeknownst to you, the words she spoke next would shatter your day into a million pieces.
Your husband, Gojo Satoru - was sealed.
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In the wake of your husband's sealing and the news of his banishment, you were engulfed by a profound sense of sorrow, leading to an almost three-week seclusion within the confines of your room.
The community he had always protected concluded that he was an accomplice.
The disbelief is overwhelming. It's impossible to fathom. Witnessing firsthand the deep affection he held for those children—his students—it was a sight to behold.
As you slowly unfurled from your curled-up position, every muscle protested against the movement, making it feel like a strenuous effort. Exhaustion bore heavily on your shoulders as you mustered the strength to sit upright.
Weary and bleary-eyed, you rubbed your eyes futilely to dispel the heavy shroud of drowsiness that had enveloped you.
You suddenly became aware of the passing of time. The days had melded into one another, and you were completely lost.
The servants still ensured your well-being, paying extra attention to your nutritional needs. They would bring you warm soups, fresh fruits, and vegetables and encourage you to eat even when you didn't feel like it. They were always there to offer a kind word or a gentle touch, reminding you that you were not alone. 
In Satoru's absence, you were the head of the clan, the next one your unborn child. You had never felt more responsible or scared in your life.
Has he carried this responsibility since he was a child?
In his everyday life?
Rising from your seat, you made your way to the full-length mirror in your room, yearning for a glimpse of your own reflection. However, the sight that met your eyes only deepened your sorrow.
Your complexion appeared pallid, drained of its usual vitality, and dark circles underscored your eyes, accentuating the weariness you felt.
Your hair was in disarray, with strands sticking out in every direction and tangled messily. You seemed to have little concern for your appearance, and your heart felt like it was about to shatter into a million pieces.
Everything had been unremarkably normal, and now there was a possibility of never seeing him again.
With a deep, shaky breath, you gently brushed your hair to get up today. The brush's soft bristles glided through your hair, untangling any knots with ease. 
Just as you were about to finish, the creaking open door interrupted your peaceful moment. It seemed that the servants of your estate had developed the habit of entering your chambers more frequently as if to ensure your safety.
"Hana, I'm about to head out - "
The room was filled with palpable tension as the sound of the brush hitting the floor echoed through the air, causing an abrupt hush to descend. In that fleeting moment, your eyes widened and your breath caught in your throat as you found yourself locking eyes with Gojo Satoru.
"Toru?" Tears filled your eyes, shimmering with unshed emotion as you struggled to maintain your composure.
Your hands trembled as you instinctively sought to shield the swell of your stomach, your grip tightening around the precious source of strength that had sustained you through it all.
As he takes deliberate steps forward, his intense, piercing blue eyes sweep over you, lingering on every detail from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. It's as if he fears that any contact with him could cause you to fade away.
"I came home as soon as I could," he whispered, his voice barely audible. For the first time in your life, you witnessed tears streaming down his cheeks.
His eyes, usually so bright and full of life, were filled with sorrow and regret. "I'm sorry for leaving you two all alone," he said, his voice choked with emotion.
You melted into his embrace, feeling a rush of emotion flood you. Your body trembled with sobs as you buried your face against his chest, finding it difficult to articulate the depth of your feelings.
Holding him tightly, you couldn't help but observe his changes – the maturation of his physique and the palpable strength of his developed muscles as he enveloped you in his arms.
Home. 
Being in his arms is home. 
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The obstetrician greeted you warmly and said, "I'm going to apply a little cold gel," as they carefully positioned the small transducer on your 6-month-pregnant belly. "Let's see if we can coax the baby out—it looks like they're being a bit shy and hiding."
The dimly lit room was filled with nervous excitement as the doctor continued maneuvering the wand over your belly. Then, suddenly, the ultrasound screen flickered to life, and the image of your little one came into view. 
"They might be doing some jujutsu moves inside, honey," your husband, Gojo Satoru, whispered into your ear, a sly smirk on his lips. His eyes were fixed on the screen, hands warmly holding your right one, and when the baby moved, you noticed his mouth slightly open in awe. 
You turned your head to the screen and marveled at the sight of your tiny, wiggling miracle. 
The tiny arms, legs, fingers, and toes all move in unison. The doctor continued to point out different features, explaining each detail as you watched in amazement.
"Congratulations, you are having a boy."
It's been a few days since your husband finally returned home after what seemed like an eternity. Despite the chaos, your husband has created a peaceful haven for the two of you.
The nursery is a testament to his dedication and attention to detail. The walls are painted a soft, soothing shade of blue, and the shelves are filled with books and toys that he carefully selected for your little one.
The crib is draped in a delicate canopy, and the bedding is soft and cozy. Everything regarding your soon-to-be-bearing has already been taken care of. 
It's as if he's on a mission to show his love and dedication to you and your soon-to-arrive child with meaningful actions every single day.
Every minute detail had been thought through and prepared with utmost care. Each day, he devoted himself to ensuring your well-being, starting with a gentle morning bath and ending with a soothing back massage that would lull you to sleep in the comfort of his loving embrace.
In the beginning, it caused a sense of unease. It felt like he was preparing to depart in the near future. However, your husband took the time to console you and assure you that his intention was merely to spare you any distress during the final months of your pregnancy in case he were to sustain an injury.
You were informed about his fight on December 24th. Despite your disagreement and your persistent refusal to support him, he assured you that he would win.
You believe. 
You have always believed him. 
The sun dipped below the horizon, the two of you settled in for the evening, seeking rest after a day filled with activity.
Satoru's lips met yours, and you felt a surge of pleasure coursing through your body. His kisses were always so gentle and tender, yet so passionate at the same time. You kissed him back, savoring his lips' taste and his breath's warmth.
His tongue pushed against your lips, asking for entrance, and you eagerly obliged.
Your heart raced as you felt his lips move down to your neck, planting kisses and leaving behind small, purple bruises. "I'm sorry," he slurred, muffled words against your skin. "I need you."
Now wide awake, you watched as he slowly tugged the duvet covers over your naked body, his lips trailing down to your chest. 
He took one of your nipples in his mouth, his delicate licks making it harden. His other hand teased and tweaked the other nipple, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.
"Relax, my wife," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. "I'm going to take care of you."
He continued to suck on your sensitive nipples, twirling his tongue around them and moaning softly. His cock grew hard as he switched to the other nipple, giving it the same treatment.
"I want to taste you," he mumbled, his lips touching your stomach. His long fingers caressed your womanhood, eliciting a soft gasp from you. He positioned himself between your thighs, using his thumb to part your cunt and expose your clit. "Can I taste you, Y/N?"
"Yy-yes." You moaned as he began to lick and suck on your clit, his tongue moving in circles and causing waves of pleasure to wash over you. Your hands gripped the sheets as he continued to pleasure you, his fingers slipping inside you and making you writhe with pleasure. 
He leaves your clit alone, but his tongue finds its way to the rest of your pussy. His tongue traces your folds, your slit, and the inside of your walls. He was leaving no parts untouched by his warm mouth. He was licking every drop.
You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, and then you were tumbling over it, your body convulsing with pleasure as Satoru continued to pleasure you with his mouth and hands.
"Mm, Satoru," as his skilled tongue continued to explore every inch of you, sending shivers down your spine.
Your eyes were wide open, taking in every sensation as he delved deeper. His tongue continued lapping at your most sensitive areas, sending electrifying pulses of pleasure throughout your body.
As if that wasn't enough, his fingers began to apply gentle pressure, adding to the intensity. You felt your legs start to tremble uncontrollably as the pleasure built inside you. "Tastes so sweet."
You could feel yourself getting close to the brink of orgasm. Your breath quickened, and your cries became louder with each passing second. You knew you were on the verge of release, and he seemed to sense it, too.
"I'm close," With one final push, he pressed harder, driving you over and into a world of pure pleasure. As you exploded in ecstasy, your body shook with the force of your orgasm, and you cried out in delight.
Satoru continued to lavish and clean you, his tongue working tirelessly to taste your release. "So fcking sweet,"
Panting and gasping for breath, you feel him move his body on top of yours, his lips pressing against yours as he positions himself at your entrance. 
You can feel your heart racing as your body responds to his touch. You wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer to you, and feel his body shudder with pleasure. 
He carefully lifts your legs, making sure not to put too much pressure on your bump, and places them around his waist, slowly sinking his length inside you.
"My sweet wife," he whispered into your ear, his voice low and husky. "So warm." He moved in and out of you, his grunts and moans filling the air as he lost himself in the pleasure of your body. 
"You feel so good," he murmured, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he thrust harder and faster.
"Mm-more, Satoru," You arch your back and push your hips up to meet his, feeling his length still sliding in and out of you with increasing speed.
He responded by picking up the pace, repositioning himself deeper inside you, pressing you into the mattress, and giving kisses to your face and neck as he continued to rail you, his movements becoming more urgent but careful.
"I'm going to come, doll." he cursed, his hands gripping your body tightly as he felt his orgasm building.
You could feel his length pulsing inside you, his release painting your walls white as he continued to move, putting back his spilled seed with each thrust, making you gasp as you feel your second orgasm.
Basking in the afterglow of your lovemaking, your husband excused himself to the bathroom. You heard running water and assumed he was cleaning himself up. A few moments later, he returned with a warm, damp cloth.
You watched as he approached you, eyes full of love and tenderness. His touch was gentle as he used the cloth to remove any remnants. 
He took his time, cleaning every inch of your body with utmost care.
He wiped away the last trace of sweat from your skin and looked up at you with a soft smile. "I love you so much," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
"I love you too," you replied, your voice filled with emotion. You reached out to stroke his cheek, feeling the softness of his skin beneath your fingertips.
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"Please remember what I'm about to tell you," Gojo Satoru's voice resonated with unwavering determination as he imparted his instructions. "Don't make yourself watch. It will only burden you needlessly. I'll be back home before you know it."
His slender, ethereal hands tenderly cradled your tear-streaked face, gently brushing away the traces of your distress. You found ease in his embrace, unable to contain your sobs, fully aware that nothing could deter him from his path.
"After this, I promise I will retire," he said with a shaky chuckle, his voice tinged with emotion. The sight of you shaking was overwhelming, and the thought of you crying scared him more than his upcoming battle with Sukuna.
"We can move anywhere you want, and we'll be together every day with our son," he reassured you as he enveloped you in a warm, comforting hug, soothing you with gentle strokes of your hair. He shifted closer, nuzzling into your hair and holding you tightly.
"I'll always be by your side," he whispered softly, his words etching on your mind. "Forever."
If you knew this would be your final conversation with him, you would have desperately grasped at any words or actions to keep him from leaving.
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You stride in your well-worn white running shoes, and the rhythmic thud of each footfall echoes through the empty corridors, creating a symphony of sound that fills the space around you.
He never liked your heels. 
He never liked how discomforting it is for your feet. 
Your tears are flowing down your cheeks, and there's a lump in your throat that hasn't left ever since you heard the news. Your breathing is rapid, shallow, and filled with fear.
Your breath. 
You no longer want to take.
The world around you was shrouded in unfamiliarity; the edges of your vision blurred as you moved forward. Despite the disorientation, your body seemed to be operating on autopilot, effortlessly navigating through the haze as if driven by an unseen force.
Every step you took felt heavy, like some instinctual knowledge guided you through this place.
He clings to you. 
As much as he can. 
"Y/N," Shoko Ieiri's voice sounded from the background. Her face was solemn as she gazed back at you with a serious expression.
"I can go with her; please follow me, Y/N-san." Ijichi, the person who had come to fetch you from the confines of your home, whispered beside you. He walked past, and you felt your feet involuntarily follow him, afraid he would disappear.
The woman with brown hair gazed down at your swollen, pregnant belly, and the sight was so overwhelming that she nearly lost her balance.
You brushed past her, paying no mind to her or anyone else - the curious stares of the students as you made your way through the corridors of Jujutsu High.
Your fists were tightly clenched at your sides as you followed the man in the suit, your thoughts consumed by only one person. 
Gojo Satoru. 
Ijichi paused before a shining silver door, the light catching its reflective surface. He turned towards you, a grave expression on his face. "We've arrived," he said, his voice tinged with regret as he bowed deeply. "I apologize."
You could feel the tears prickling at the corners of your eyes as you whispered, "I want to be alone with him, please." You couldn't bear the thought of anyone else witnessing this moment of raw vulnerability.
With trembling hands, you pushed open the door and stepped inside. The room was quiet, except for the machines' soft hum and lightning. 
You could see him lying there, his form still and peaceful beneath the pristine white sheet. The fabric was smooth and unblemished, without a wrinkle to mar its surface.
"My baby," you whispered, your voice breaking as you approached his body. You reached out tentatively, afraid that the slightest touch would disrupt the peaceful tableau before you. But you felt sadness and longing as your fingers brushed against his skin. "My sweet baby," you cried, pulling him close to your chest. "How can I go on without you?"
"Please don't leave me." Tears streamed down your face as you grieved for your husband, desperately yearning to hear his voice or feel his comforting, warm hug when he sensed your sadness once more. "Please come back."
But there was no response, no flicker of movement or sound. Your husband was gone, and all that remained was the shell of his body.
Amid your suffering, you felt a sudden kick from within your stomach.
It seems that your son may have felt your tears, weeping about his father, whom he will never have the chance to meet.
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"Mommy?" Rapid footsteps echoed through the hallway as your 5-year-old son dashed across the wooden floor, his little voice filled with urgency.
"Tohru, no running!" You called out, pausing from chopping the carrots as you felt a tinge of concern at the tone of his voice. "Hana, could you please continue chopping these carrots for me?" 
Hana smiled warmly and nodded in agreement, gracefully taking over the task. Her skilled hands moved with precision as she seamlessly continued the work you had started.
While going from the kitchen to the living room, your son's voice fills the air, creating a comforting and familiar ambiance. Your gaze was drawn to a large wedding photograph that halted your steps, capturing your attention with its timeless beauty and significance.
 In the picture, a white-haired man beamed with joy as he gazed at his wife, their expressions capturing a depth of love that seemed to transcend everything else.
The way they looked at each other spoke volumes about their enduring bond and connection, leaving a lasting impression on anyone who beheld the photograph.
It was your favorite picture. 
It still made your heart stop. 
"Mommy," Your son ran up to you and wrapped his little arms around your legs, making you chuckle at his enthusiasm. You knelt down to his height, pinching his chubby cheeks and feeling the warmth of his embrace. His bright blue eyes shone with curiosity and innocence.
"Sakura told me her father loved her so much. Like as big as a tree!" he exclaimed, gesturing widely to emphasize the enormity of his friend's father's love. "How about us? How much did Daddy love us?"
You tenderly swept aside his silky, snow-white hair, cherishing this special moment with your son. A gentle smile lit up your face as you wholeheartedly responded to his question without any hesitation.
"His love for us was bigger than the whole sky."
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author's note: I never knew a fictional character would have this impact on my life. gojo satoru, no matter what they say, was my favourite. whatever hopes I had for gege's redemption on his writing is now officially gone; I am dropping jjk. I don't even want to watch the anime anymore. I just got up today to write my own version of his passing, with canon-divergence.
he will forever have a place in my heart. my baby deserves so much better. :(
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enha-doodles · 2 days
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Heyya I love your works 💗💗 and I was wondering if u u could do Slytherin boys reacting to the reader being a muggleborn 🥹
Classic yk🕺🏻🕺🏻
SLYTHERIN GUY'S REACTION TO YOU BEING A MUGGLEBORN | ✧⁺。
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Pairing : (Mattheo , Tom , Theodore , Lorenzo , Draco) x muggleborn!reader
Note : tysm bestie 🤪🤪✨ also that is such a classic request !!!
Warnings : mentions of fighting , toxicness in Tom's (I mean?)
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MATTHEO RIDDLE
Yes , he's got this thing against Muggle-borns, but if it's you, he's willing to put on his big boy pants and overlook it. But don't you dare insult his girl's blood status, or else you'll witness a show even Voldemort himself would be proud of! Picture it: a bunch of Slytherin wannabes start spouting nonsense about you not being worthy of Mattheo because he's the Dark Lord's spawn, and well you're just a stupid mudblood.
That sets Mattheo off like a firecracker! He goes all Hulk mode, smashing and bashing until they're all groveling at his feet. "Stay in your fucking place, you piece of shit, or else you won't live to tell the tale of Voldemort's son representing the Dark Lord himself!" He's a total hotie in fight mode btw
TOM RIDDLE
Now, Tom's got issues. He's got this whole orphanage baggage weighing him down, but deep down, he's just a lovesick puppy because he never received any. Sure, he hates the whole blood status talk, but he loves you more than he hates it. And merlin, does he have a way of showing it! He'll dominate and control like it's his daily job, but common, it's all out of love, right? And if anyone dares to even look at you funny, bam! It's going to be a hex city, and guess whose the population ? them.
But if you try to disobey or disrespect him he won't hesitate to return to his true self , he'd grab your chin harshly and menacingly whisper, "You're just a filthy mudblood, know your place. Here, God isn't your lord. I am."
THEODORE NOTT
hmm, Theodore, the rebel with a cause. He's not like his father , nothing like him at all and he constantly wants to prove it , this is just one of those things that help him show you and others that he's different.He couldn't care less about blood status drama. Nope, if he loves you, he loves ALL of you, flaws and all.
He'd threaten everyone around that you're his girl and if anyone says anything to you or if they try to hurt you then they'd be found dead before they can say sorry . "Get this in your stupid ass head, you dick - you mess with her, you mess with me and remember I don't pull bunnies out of a hat ."
LORENZO BERKSHIRE
Lorenzo's like that curious cat who just can't resist poking his nose into everything. Muggle stuff? Fascinating! Like Theodore he wouldn't mind . He'd actually ask more about how it's there and all the technology intrigues him but he'd still be on about how magic is better . He would support you all the time and try to indulge in stuff to make you feel better .
Would threaten his friends to be mindful of their words around you because you're very dear to him and he wouldn't mind a punch to two if it means you're protected "Hey hey hey , watch it or I won't!"
DRACO MALFOY
Draco, return of the drama queen of Slytherin lmao . He'll start off all high and mighty, spouting hurtful things left, right, and center. But when reality hits and you stop talking to him , he realizes he's messed up, cue the banging at your door , sputtering out apologies and the gifts galore - rich boy lowkey buying his way out but you can't complain because he's got all your favourite stuff .
Draco would kinda joke to lighten the mood "God, I love you, but my father cannot hear about this." Classic Draco, am I right?
。    ✧    ⁺     。
TAGLIST : @sugarcandydoll @helendeath
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rafesslxt · 17 hours
Text
✧.* 𝐒𝐋𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒 | 𝐒𝐄𝐗𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐅𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃
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જ⁀➴ your best friends get a hint of how sexually frustrated you are and offer their help
: ̗̀➛ nsfw, smut, teasing, making out, nicknames, cheating with Tom, fingering, oral on female, p in v unprotected, nipple sucking
「 ✦ Mattheo, Tom, Theodore, Enzo, Draco, Pansy ✦ 」
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Mattheo:
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❥ It didn‘t took him long to notice something‘s wrong. You two sit together in potions, currently making a new potion. Normally you two would laugh and banter all the time, teasing each other but you were so quiet today and didn‘t even look at him
❥ "Y/n, is everything alright?" he asks and puts his hand on your shoulder, drawing a little whine from you. His eyebrows knitted and he took a step back, scanning you whole. He just then noticed your flushed cheeks, flustered expression, your thighs pressed together and your bottom lip between your teeth. You were turned on.
❥ He wanted to test his theory a little and started to prepare the ingredients for the potion in front of you two. He flexed his arms a little, knowing you liked his hands because you once told him when you two were drunk. He saw your hungry gaze at his hands, making him smile to himself.
❥ "Here, chop up the root. Can you do that for me, doll?" He softly breathed against your face, coming dangerous close to you. The nickname gave you visible shiver‘s, just feeding right into his ego. He had a crush on you since forever but never actually had the balls to tell you.
❥ After class was over and you guys were free he pulled you with him to his dorm. "M-mattheo what are you doing?" you wondered but followed him. He closed the door behind you and grabbed you by your hips, pushing you against the door. A gasp left your lips and you looked at him like a deer in the lights.
❥ "Care to tell me why you‘re so .. on edge?" Thats when you finally let everything out. You broke up with your boyfriend and the reason was simple: He couldn't fuck. Mattheo had to hold back a laugh at your outburst of emotions. "It's not funny! It's so frustrating you can't even imagine!"
❥ "Want me to help you? You know.. like a best friend would." he offers you with a smug smirk on his face. You thought he was joking until he had you trembling and shaking under him. He hit every corner and touched every part of your skin that was untouched by your ex-boyfriend. "What are friends for huh?" he moaned when you clenched around him, your nails digging into his back when your orgasm came nearer. Let's just say, you never ever had to fear bad sex again.
Tom Riddle:
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❥ You and your best friend Tom sat together in the library when no one was there anymore, thank‘s to Tom‘s charm and good reputation. It all started with your leg bouncing the whole time until Tom send you an annoyed glare which made you stop immediately.
❥ But it continued with your sighing. It got so distracting that at one point Tom slapped his book down onto the table so hard that you flinched. "Please tell me why you‘re sighing like a hurt puppy the whole damn time."
❥ You really considered telling him but you were kind of shy when talking about things like that. On top if that Tom already hated your boyfriend and you didn‘t want to give him another reason to add to the list. "Nothing, just.. tired."
❥ Tired my ass was what Tom thought. He knew you were lying so he had to try a different way. It didn‘t took him long to get inside your head with his new found skill ' Legilimency'
❥ "He told you what?!" Tom suddenly shouts at you. "What?" you asked him confused. "He told you that when you asked him for some foreplay?" He didn‘t even tried to hide the fact that he read your mind. "Tom! Stop going through my head all the damn time!" "Did he seriously tell you it‘s not worth the time?"
❥ He scoffs when you tell him the whole thing that happened with your boyfriend. "No wonder you‘re that sexually frustrated." "Excuse me?" "Come on. All the sighing and leg bouncing the whole time? Your body needs release." He said in a monotone voice like he talked about the weather. "Well – it‘s not that easy Tom." "It is. Let me help you."
❥ Since he could read your mind it made no sense to even try and deny the excitement that went through your body at his offer. He had you laying all spread out for him on the library desk in front of him. Books and notes all over the place and even floor. Your skirt got pushed up to your stomach and his fingers skillfully played with your throbbing clit.
❥ "Look at that. How could this not be worth anyone‘s time hm?" Tom muttered while sucking on your nipples, switching every minute between them while pumping his fingers in and out of you, his thumb circling your clit until you came around his digits. And that waw just the beginning of a whole night of foreplay.
Theodore Nott:
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❥ That‘s exactly how your best friend looks at you when he overhears you talking to Pansy, telling her, you haven‘t slept with someone in so long that you would do abything for dick now. Obviously it was a joke. But obviously Theo wouldn’t be Theo If he didn‘t already formed a plan in his head.
❥ Teasing was the keyword. And patience. Theo‘s plan was to tease you little by little over days to get a reaction out of you.
❥ First day he brushed past you every here and there with his hips pushing slightly against you and his hands on your hips. It made your whole head spin and you tried to calm down, seeing him smiling at you innocently.
❥ The second day was just as simple. The whole day he whispered into your ear, laughing, joking, asking things about the class you two were having right now. And with every whisper he brushed his lips against your ear lobe or shell, his warm breath hitting your skin and leaving goosebumps behind.
❥ On the third day he got a bit bolder. When you started bouncing your leg or fidgeting with your fingers, he would put his hand on your thigh. High. He said "It‘s to calm you down a little bit cara mia." His big hands squeezing your flesh and his fingers stroking your desperate skin.
❥ Day four you and all your friends sat in the common room on the couch by the fireplace. You sat next to Theo of course, sharing a blanket since it‘s cold due the late night. At some point he had you leaning against his chest with his arms around you. While you lazily listened to Draco telling ya‘ll a story, Theo‘s finger started to dance over your slighty exposed skin on your stomach. Your shirt mist have rosen up a little under the blanket. You sucked in a breath, trying not to melt right there in front of everyone.
❥ Day five and six were the hardest because he completely neglected you. He talked to you but never stood beside you or sat next to you in class or lunch. It drove you literally crazy. Why would he do this to you? He didn‘t even hug you. But you also couldn‘t ask him because how would that sound? 'Hey Theo why don‘t you touch me anymore?' No thanks.
❥ Day seven was when you actually broke. "Theo, we need to talk, please." You practically dragged him away from the rest of your friends to your‘s and Pansy‘s room. "How can I help you principessa?" he asked with a smug smile on his face. "Touch me." was all you blurted out. He raised his eyebrows and looked surprised at you. "What?" "Touch me Theo, please. I - I can‘t concentrate anymore when you‘re not near me."
❥ Well – what was supposed to be innocent touching and stroking, ended with you on your belly on your bed with Theo behind you, pounding his cock into your pussy. "Everytime from now on that you feel like this, you come to me, capito?"
Lorenzo Berkshire:
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❥ You and Enzo were best friends since you could remember. You two have gone through everything together. Break-up‘s, first heartbreak, fighting with parents, puberty, seeing each other naked by accident, literally everything.
❥ You two were so close that nobody even questioned it when you were cuddling under a blanket in the common room late at night while your friends talked about how unfair the quidditch game today was.
❥ "Did you use that peach-shampoo again?" he whispered into your ear when you layed down on his chest and your hair was right under his nose. You looked up at him and nodded with a smile, knowing it was his favorite. He sighs when he inhales it and wraps his arms around you, his fingers playing with the hem of your little crop top.
❥ Enzo was so concentrated at sonething Theodore told the group, that he didn‘t notice how he started to play with the top of her skirt, his fingers gliding under it so innocently. When you noticed you stopped breathing for a second, glanzing up at your best friend who didn‘t seem to notice what he was doing.
❥ At first it was okay but after ten more minutes, you felt yourself getting restless in his arms and shifted every now and then in his lap. You felt yourself get slowly turned on from his little touch. With his second hand he started to stroke your thigh mindlessly, not realizing how your cheeks started to get red and your pussy wet. You pressed your lips together.
❥ Then it happened. Your hips grinded against his lap out of the pleasure and desperation you felt. He froze immediately and stopped moving his hands and fingers. He gulped and looked down at you, your heavy eyes already looking up at him when you grinded against him again boldly.
❥ He swallowed down a moan when your ass grinded against his crotch. "What are you doing baby?" The nickname send shivers down your spine together with his raspy voice against your ear. "I think – I think I need out friendship to go to the next level." You breathed out. You saw him biting his lips when his hands startet moving again. One hand continueing massaging your thigh while the other slipped down into your underwear and went straight to your slick folds.
❥ "Shit you‘re soaked." he breathed when he dipped his finger into your wet pussy, teasing your throbbing clit. Your hips bucked up and you tried to be as quiete as possible so your friends around you wouldn‘t notice. Right when you were about to come around his fingers, he pulled them away, your eyes going wide.
❥ You glared up at him with a desperate look in your eyes and rosy cheeks. He licked his fingers clean when no one watched and smirked down at you. "Don‘t worry baby, you‘re gonna come around something way bigger."
Draco Malfoy:
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❥ "Draco?" "Yes, y/n?" You currently were in his room at the malfoy manor due holiday‘s and since his parents really liked you – good reputation and behavior, pure blood family and a lot of money – they never had a problem with you over. The complete opposite was the case. They often hoped you two would be more than best friends some day.
❥ "Can you remember when you told me you would do anything for me?" You asked him with your voice cute and hopeful. "No.. but go on." You roll your eyes at his answer but go on like he said.
❥ "Well, there is something that you could do for me that I think you would enjoy too." you said carefully. His eyebrows rose up and he looked at you curious now. "Oh yeah and what would that be, doll?" That‘s the nickname he used on you everytime you asked him for a favor.
❥ Now or never, right? "I - I want you.. tofuckme." His eyes go wide and his jaw fell to the floor. "What did you just say?" he asks slowly, not sure If he understood right. "I said Iwantyoutofuckme." He stood up and walked over to you, grabbing you by your chin. "Y/n.. tell me slowly what you said or I swear – " "I want you to fuck me, Draco."
❥ His lips crashed into yours just a second later, pushing you down on his bed. You kissed him vack, more confused than he was. "Are you- aren‘t you gonna ask why I want this so suddenly?" you gasp when he starts sucking on your neck and his fingers already opening your jeans.
❥ "Fuck no, you can tell me afterwards. I don‘t care." he breathes before he throws all of your clothes all over his room and fucks you into his mattress for the whole night.
❥ After you two were done he pulled you against his chest, still breathing heavily. "And? What was the reason?" he asked out of breath. "Well uh – I broke up with Colin. He just couldn‘t make me happy in and outside the bedroom so .. I wanted to ask you to help me since ai felt so.. worked up." He chuckled deeply and pulled you even closer. "Told you he‘s a loser.." you roll your eyes at his comment. "You‘re mine bow, hope you know that."
Pansy Parkinson:
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❥ "Pansy, can I ask you something?" you asked your best friend. You two shared a dorm together and sat currently in front of the tv you had bought for the two if you. Her new favorite show "baby" was playing. It was a italian show and she loved learning new languages. "Of course, what‘s wrong?" "Why has something to be wrong?" "Y/n.. you never ask to ask something.. only when something is wrong."
❥ You had to smile a little at her answer and rolled your eyes playfully. "Since you‘re sleeping with boys and girls.. I wanted to ask you.. do you enjoy going down on girls?" Pansy looks at you surprised. "Why are you asking me that? This isn‘t coming from no where."
❥ I sigh and look at my hands. "Uhm – Brody said he doesn‘t like it and it .. freaks him out." I tell her what my boyfriend told me. Her eyes go wide and she almost shouts at me, "He said what?!" "Can you please just answer me Pansy?"
❥ She sighs and looks at my fidgety hands. "Of course I enjoy it and what kind of man is he that he says something like that to you?" "Is it possible that maybe it‘s.. me? That something is wrong with me and not him? Maybe it looks weird or-" "Y/n stop. I promise you nothing is wrong with you love."
❥ "But you can‘t know that Pans.." "Do you want to try?" Now you are the one who looks at her in shock. "You would ?" "Yeah but only If you‘re comfortable with it of course. I know that you only have been with boys." Your cheeks heated up a little at the thought of doing something so intimate with your best friend. You two have talked about that one time and Pansy knew how open you were to trying it someday with a woman too.
❥ Let‘s just say from there on you never questioned yourself again. "Pansy I - that‘s do good." You let out a whinper, your habds going through her hair. "Hmm such a pretty girl. You‘re doing so good love." She praised you, smiling to herself. She would have a lot of fun with you in the future.
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let me know If you liked it 🫶🏻 and sorry if pansy‘s part is so short but i ran out of time, ideas and i never wrote for her before 🤍
taglist: @justarandomcanadiantransdude @helendeath @thatonepansexual2000 @imabee-oralizard @supernaturaldawning @cardi-bre91 @sofa-couch26 @little-miss-naill @kolsangel @auxcordlawd @itsarajr @jolly4holly @hisparentsgallerryy @slytherinscreamqueen @mixvchelle @littlemadamred @ummmmmmm-username @jeannie-beannie @belle-blue @beautywine @sagetakami @simp-for-fantasy @whyamireadingthis
My masterlist and taglist 🤍
xoxo sarah <3
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moonsaver · 2 days
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thinking about yan!sunday trying to improve things with his darling who almost completely shut off from him after being "taken away". trying to get them to communicate with him again, to lower their walls a little; even when they refuse to say a word while he's around, when they avoid meeting his gaze, when they recoil from his touch. in his mind, if he just makes enough of an "effort", his darling will come around and their dynamic can go back to the way it was before… but unfortunately, that "effort" will never extend as far as him giving them their freedom - the one thing they want and need more than anything
Honestly yes. Ive only briefly touched on this subject in a few of my works like the bathing with sunday one, but thats it. Im ashamed i never write the more affectionate parts of him as a yandere because i love those parts the most about yanderes.
Sunday is still such a deeply caring man. He hates having your freedom taken away, but it's safer. Your golden cage is a cage but he makes sure you don't even see the bars. He whispers sweet nothings into your ear when you wake up beside him. His hands are almost revering when he bathes you, touching your skin like it's precious golden thread in a weaver's skilled hands, feather light kisses trace your nape. He combs out your wet hair so lovingly, gently taking apart knots and drying it with a thick towel, asking you if you like the new shampoo. He tries so hard to make it more of a normal relationship than what it really is, because in the end he truly does love you so much.
And when you flinch, when you recoil, when you spit retorts back at him – he's not angry, or disappointed. He's hurt. His wings lower when you yell at him, he doesn't know what to do with his hands – you've denied them the sacrilege of your skin. What good are they now? And he's so heartbroken in a sense. You don't look at him, you stop talking to him, and he swears he'll go insane. The tremor in his voice is inaudible to you, but he's restraining himself from buckling down to his knees at your feet and begging you to let him love you and be loved. He doesn't want to force this. He wants normalcy. But it's extremely hypocritical of him to want that. He knows it.
He won't let you go, not after everything he's done to have you right where he wants you. And you know that. You know despite how hard he makes it for you to hate him, he won't ever truly love you unless he sets you free. He's afraid this dilemma is often one that parts relationships of all kind. That Charmony dove was beautiful. And so are you.
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suguru-getos · 1 day
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Could you write a continuation of yandere satosugu where the reader lived and they try everything to help her get better and care for her?
| making up for mistakes | yandere satosugu x reader |
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-> continuation of the first part: link 🔗
you had survived the almost suicide attempt you so carefully & yet so carelessly attempted. you were sure you weren’t getting up after this. damn it you made sure to hit your head hard, you could see blanks, you could see stars in your eyes until it all faded to a peaceful nothing-ness.
now, you’re awake again. nothing hurts. you know they must’ve told their friend shoko to aid in your injuries. you feel like you’ve woken up from a long slumber. unwanted as it may be… it does make you feel eerily refreshed. you stretch your limbs from the bed, they’re going to kill you for this. kill you for hampering with their property. oh well — at this point you’re fine with it. what’s it going to do? hurt you. pain is all there is they could ever offer anyways. maybe you can scream out and wish it gets over. that’s all you set your mind to.
you look to the side, the curtains are open and there is a little drizzle of snow. it brings a smile to your face. what if you hadn’t been kidnapped? it would’ve been so fun to hop into one of the lovely cafes you like & order some hot cocoa. put both your hands and wrap them around the ceramic of the hot cup and exhale in utter relaxation of the aroma the sweet cafe has to offer. oh… happy days.
its nauseating what your life is now, wrapping a blanket around yourself and checking down below. you are wearing clothes, decent clothes… not the sultry, slutty ones that satoru forces you to wear. you feel like you could throw up when the reminder occurs again. beaten up like you were nothing but an animal, throwing up in pain and anxiety--
"there we go! princess! awake! oh my god!" satoru comes in and hugs you tightly, his bulky arms wrapping against you, he doesn't let your mind have the time to panic. besides, satoru was... not the one who inflicted you that pain. even though he did nothing about it, in a moment of pure misery, your mind would latch on to him for comfort. "baby- you scared daddy, please don't do that ever again. fuck! i thought i lost you." you could hear the heartbeats on your snow haired man, they were ragged and reminded of the same panic you once bore.
"sorry." your eyes lack all emotions, just a soft murmur escaping you. the haunting realization that you were alive was eating you up. even so, it was your soul that had died. it's the dejected way you answered that makes satoru panic even more. immediately at your knees, leaning against your thighs and mumbling soft apologies, tears wetting your skin. "please baby, I'm so sorry, i should never have let that happen... you did a mistake that's all! you- you- pissed us off." he shakes his head, hugging you tightly.
your hands robotically landed across his hair, caressing. "it's okay, i did wrong, i understand."
your responses were making him nauseous, he hated seeing you in pain, but suguru always says its something that's needed. why is it needed? you're not an animal, are you? the ways with which satoru and suguru try to 'discipline' their toy they are delusional enough to call their lover is insane.
"i got breakfast, little one." now, your heart sinks. you hear the voice of the man who did this to you, mothering, now that his rage is faded into pure, eviscerating guilt. "you have no idea the joy it gives me seeing you awake." suguru hums, and you latch onto satoru, hugging him tightly. satoru's heart skips a beat. this was not the first time you had reached out to him, yet, you did it by your own. it gives him a sick sense of protectiveness. "he wouldn't do anything to ya baby, suguru loves you too." he reminds, looking at a devastated suguru.
"please don't hurt yourself again, angel" suguru hums, leaning in and kissing your forehead. it makes you sick to your stomach, how they treat you right now. you know that whatever you did yielded no results. and they are ever so careful about the same. you're pretty sure you'd have either of them by your side at all times.
"let's go and eat, suguru's made your favorite!" satoru chirps, happily holding you princess-style and going to the dining area. your eyes wandered to the other room on the way, the same room where this all happened, it's making you panic internally. the grotesque reminder of how they treated you. you're about to throw up again.
as soon as satoru puts you down, you run to throw up in disgust, nothing comes out except a few drops of water. your stomach is empty as is. a large, looming hand caresses your back. "I'm sorry, angel. please relax." suguru-- it's suguru...
"i'm sorry." you answered, "i am so sorry." you nodded to get back to the dining area, you should know better than to be with satoru. its not like suguru wouldn't do anything he wants anyways... you'd just like to have some comfort over it.
luckily for you, the breakfast went fine, you were eating quietly, while satoru just observed you. how uncomfortable you looked, the subtle shift in your demeanor. every tiny thing. suguru is essentially doing the same, gazing at your way and observing you. "you look beautiful." suguru comments, and you force a smile from the deepest pits of your psyche. "thank you, suguru."
you know he's ticked off, you need to call them 'daddy' and you're here, addressing them by their first names. sigh... they just have to help you heal, there isn't anything they can do about it really. they pushed you this far, and they should make up for it.
however, as days turn into weeks, satoru and suguru are forced to face the haunting realization that your mental and physical health is worsening. you barely eat, barely talk... you just, stare into the nothingness of empty spaces. satoru has avoided missions to take care of you. he is by your side, sleeps next to you, kisses your forehead, helps you take a shower. while earlier, you tried to at least pretend and work with it. answer however you could, talk to them, fake your smiles, now its nothing. you barely talk.
this time, satoru has a mission to take care of, but suguru is the one who's spending time with you. gently placing you on the bathtub, caressing your forearm, massaging it, decorating it with petals. "there we go little girl, there we go. feels nice?" he coos, and when you don't respond, sighs weakly. he wishes he could at least hear something out of you. when he sees you immersed in auto-pilot, he hums by himself; "yes, yes it is." he has to talk to himself in hopes that its you talking to him. "you know, me and satoru... we were thinking a trip to Italy sounds nice, or maybe Paris.." you used to love travelling, he hopes that would utter out a response from you. NOTHING comes out of you however. that makes suguru's heart break a little, "or maybe, anywhere that you like." he hums, sighing.
"angel?" he asks softly, leaning in and kissing your neck, maybe that would at least earn some leaning back. your resistance...
none.
"talk to me for fucks sake!" suguru snarls, glaring hard at you. you don't even flinch at that, contrary to your earlier flinching and tweaking. a sigh escapes him and then comes bubbling tears. he has truly fucked you up. the haunting realization finally hits him. he can't live with it anymore... it's choking the very fiber of his being.
the rest of the shower passes by in a haze, and suguru is quiet, tears dripping from his face. "what should i do so that you become normal again?" he asks again, pouting and begging with his eyes. no response...
he gets up after tucking you in bed. the dark circles in your eyes are an explicit example of how less you're sleeping. sometimes you wake up with irritating nightmares, screaming and crying. that's the only moment when satoru and suguru are welcomed by your affections.
suguru sighs, he needs to win you this time. or maybe... what's that called? stockholm syndrome?
or maybe, he needs to discuss with satoru about erasing your memory...
or maybe, he needs a curse that can shove your memory off and then they can date you.. from scratch...
either way, they're not leaving you. anytime soon.
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dualitue · 2 days
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★: husband!zayne + exhibitionism + oral (m. receiving ) + it has a soft start trust me + breeding + multiple orgasms mentioned/hinted + slapping (once) + zayne taking it out in a way that's special to..him + i enjoy thinking of him as an exhibitionist so no criticism allowed thanks a lot!
It's a lucky day since you're on the couch reading a book, and when he gets himself all comfortable between your legs with his head laying on your stomach, you gently hold an squeeze his hand. "Rough day?" You ask with a soft voice, your gaze lovingly falling on him and his slumped shoulders as his heavy body pins your lower half down onto the couch. His hand squeezes yours in return, he nuzzles his face into your midriff. "Rough day, rough week," he groans softly, his voice coming out weak. He is exhausted mentally and physically, but he never complains since he had a specific reason choosing to be a doctor. A long sigh escapes him as he just lies there, a wave of exhaustion washing over him and all he can do in such a state is seek your presence like this; warm, cozy, loving, warming him to the bone.
You softly chuckle, your body vibrates with the soft sound, causing Zayne's head to move a bit as he lays there comfortably. You dip your fingers in his hair, slender fingers adorned with rings (but the most detectable one is your marriage ring) run between his soft hair. You press a gentle kiss to the top of his head. "Go take a warm bath," you whisper as if you don't want to disturb him. "I'll get us some drinks. Hm? How does that sound?"
Zayne lets out a gentle sigh of contentment at your words and the way you touch him with such affection. His eyes flutter closed, he relishes the feeling of your fingers running and threading through his hair with featherlight touches. "Like heaven," he agrees quickly, he can feel his back start to ache the longer he lays on the couch. His eyes are closed and there's a slight smile on his lips, one that you're already used to catching—when he smiles, it's not a big one; it's slight, as if nothing changes in his expression but something changes. His eyes shine different, the corners of his mouth twitch. He pulls himself up to plant a chaste kiss on your lips before he's pulling himself away to go do as you said. "You spoil me sometimes," he chuckles softly before he's heading off.
"Sometimes?" You laugh as you get up from the couch after him, jokingly scolding him as he makes his way to the bathroom and you make your way to the kitchen. "Don't be mean, Dr. Zayne—I spoil you all the time."
He can't help the chuckle that comes in response to how playfully you scold him. "Yes, you spoil me all the time, my apologies, darling," he calls back to you, taking the time to undress while the water in the bathroom was running. Once he's naked under the warm spray of the shower, he lets out a relieved sigh. His eyes closing, his mind is already starting to drift away as the hot water soothes his aches and pains. "Do we have any wine?" You hear the water stopping as you take the glasses from the cupboard, your bare feet touch the ground ever so softly as you walk to the fridge and get the wine out. "Of course," you reply to him, your voice is as soft as ever as you walk to the balcony with the bottle and the wine glasses. "All I need is you, actually. Everything's ready."
You wait for him by the door as he gets dressed quickly, his muscles and biceps flexing with each move. Sometimes you consider yourself lucky that he hides all those muscles beneath his work clothes, really. After your marriage, you've grown to be little bit jealous—not because he's an unfaithful hsband, never. Rest assured that Zayne has eyes for you and you only, but because he is an extremely charismatic man, you've found yourself becoming as clingy as him and maybe worse than him.
The balcony is spacious, the summer night has a sweet breeze as you two sit across each other. The time truly flies—conversations about anything, and anything, really, make you feel light and make Zayne forget about his exhaustion. And at such a moment, glass of wine one after another have Zayne just a little bit tipsy—he's a strong drinker, yet with the way he chugged down his own share has him clingier than usual. "Too distant," he murmurs, dissatisfied with the distance between you and him. He gently pats his thighs, waiting for you to climb onto his lap and make yourself comfortable. "C'mere."
It's always exciting when he's gentle yet demanding—you see the way he slides down a bit on his chair, legs parting slightly to invite you to your favorite position. You love feeling him, his warmth, the way he presses against you. When Zayne pats his thighs, you waste no time to claim your place—as if you're his queen, and his lap is your throne. Zayne's eyes remain closed as his fingers trace a lazy pattern on your bare thigh while you play with his hair, his touch sending tantalizing shivers down your spine.
You don't know what triggered you to do it, but you did it and that's probably what's important. When you roll your hips against his clothed cock, grinding painfully slow, a low groan escapes him, his breath catching in his throat at the sensation of your warm and soft body giving him the friction that he's needed all along, ever since he stepped in the house. Despite the tension building between you two, he manages to stay in control—his fingers gliding up your thigh and his free hand gently squeezing your ass in a firm grip to keep you still. "Don't tempt me," he murmurs, his voice husky with desire. You're surprised by his steel-like self-control—you are on the brink of begging him.
That tone of his voice has you blushing immediately, Zayne adores the way your cheeks are tinted with a rosy pink shade. You have to keep yourself steady so that he can think about giving you what you want. The way he can handle you just by talking to you with a certain tone of his voice is mindblowing, really. It takes everything in you to stay still, your body slightly trembles as you keep sitting on his lap—your mind is thrown into a haze with the thoughts of riding his thigh, but you just can't do it. Not until he tells you to do so. Not until his big and skillful hands guide your hips. With his warning you start blabbing about how you didn't mean to and it's happened on its own. "Sorry—I, it's just, I know you're exhausted, I'm sorry," you stutter, body slightly trembling with excitement as you avoid locking eyes with Zayne. His thumb strokes your inner thigh gently, though his touch is a bit firmer now. He leans in to whisper in your ear. "No need to apologize. You're being so very good, my sweet girl."
The way he leans closer to whisper in your ear has you whimpering softly, the noise escaping you even though you tried to keep it in. Your hands ball into fists before you hold onto his thick biceps, your eyes closing in a moment of bliss and pleasure and dizziness. Oh, you love and love and love it when Zayne is like this. When his voice is rough and he's handling you like the brat you are even when you play the innocent, how he makes it sickeningly sweet to get on the edge until you're crying and sobbing and begging for him to fill your weeping cunt. Pulling his hands back from your exposed thighs, he rests one hand against your cheek and his thumb caresses your bottom lip, in return, you obediently part your lips to let his thumb in—ready to welcome it with the wetness and the warmth of your mouth. "Just wanna..." you breathlessly whisper. "Just wanna help you relax."
Zayne can feel his cock getting harder at the sound of your whimpering, embarrassingly growing hard in the blink of an eye just by hearing you beg him for his own release. When you part your lips to welcome his thumb into your mouth, he can feel his breath almost getting stuck in his throat. Your obedience is like a drug to him, and he needs more, he is always greedy when it comes to you. His thumb gently circles your tongue, feeling the warmth and wetness as it slides in and out of your mouth, pressing flat against it just to tease you from time to time. "Such a good girl," he murmurs breathlessly as he watches you carefully—lips parted apart, eyes darkened with desire as his thumb moves in and out of your mouth with slick sounds. Your tongue laps against his finger, muffled moans sending vibrations throughout his body.
You love seeing his handsome face relaxing with pleasure; his body visibly relaxing as he spreads his legs further to pull you higher on his lap, making you sit on his hardened and throbbing cock—pressing against your wet pussy through the fabric of your clothes. It sends shivers down to your spine as your tongue moves around his thumb. You don't want to be desperate, but you can't help the wet noises coming from your mouth as you breathlessly whimper. Your mind starts clearing up a bit when Zayne pulls his thumb out of your mouth with a wet pop sound, you two are still in the balcony—taking the risk of being seen, and it sends burning arrows right to your core, a gush of wetness dampening your panties, leaving a slight print on Zayne's sweatpants.
"Here?" You ask, voice coming out a little bit pitched as you get ready to get up from his lap and get back inside. Yet, he stops you—a firm and tight hold around your thighs as he pins you down onto his lap—grinding against your clothed pussy in a painfully slow way. You furrow your eyebrows, trying to break free from his grip to no avail. "Zayne," you say, begging him to get back inside. As a response he bucks his hips up, the outline of his cock grinding against your wet panties—and this is more than enough to make tou give into him.
"Well, what's wrong with the place?" He asks as he gently pushes you down onto your knees, your body perfectly fitting between his legs as he frees his throbbing cock. You feel your face heating up, eyes carefully looking over your surroundings—but Zayne's hand gently slaps your cheek, bringing your attention back to himself. "Eyes on me, sweetheart."
What else can you do other than doing as you're told? Tears welling up in your eyes, you wrap your fingers around his cock—precum oozing from the tip as you let out a shaky breath. Zayne doesn't give you any time to register everything that's happening; his hands grabbing a fistful of your hair, he has your lips wrapping around the tip of his cock. It's almost impossible to take him wholly, he's big, and by the time you are used to choking down halfway on his cock, he's fucking into your mouth while pressing your head down to make you take more of him. All of your moans and whimpers and cries immediately vibrate through his body, causing his hips to jerk forward and choke you down on his twitching cock.
When he pulls you back by tugging on your hair, you're already drenching—Zayne doesn't even bother to take your panties off as he lifts you up from the ground and makes you sit on his lap again. This time though, he lets you sink down on his cock slowly even though you can see it in his face; he's about to cum. Spilling it inside your cunt, filling you to the brim with it makes you cry out—you're far too gone to care about prying eyes watching the way your husband fucks you as you tremble between his arms, as his cock spurts hot loads of cum in your cunt. He doesn't utter a word until he's done with you, he lets you ride him however you want, his big hands support your movements until you're milking his cock, cumming right after him with a scream that he has to muffle by pressing his palm over your mouth.
"Take me inside," you breathlessly say, face buried in the crook of Zayne's neck as he ruts into you slowly, riding down from his high even though he knows that you're overstimulated. "Shh," his voice is husky and low. "You can take it again, take me again, love." He whispers against your temple, combing the hair sticking to your nape because of how sweaty you are. "It's been a rough week, as I said," he gently pushes you back until your back presses against the side of the table, his hips bucking up to touch deeper and deeper. "And I've been distracted by thoughts of filling your pussy up like this, pumping you full of my cum until you're a sweet little doll and beg for it yourself."
"So, no," grabbing by the sides of your waist he lifts you up slightly, high enough to fuck into you as he starts with a brutal pace. "I don't think that I can take you inside."
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navstuffs · 2 days
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Dry-humping Leon Kennedy, who is wearing Graves's outfit. 
Based on this mod. TW: dry humping/knee humping, masturbation, gloves, clothed male, tiny little tease at the end, gn!reader. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!! lowkey dedicated to @sarahs-secrets2 biggest grave's fan i know
my leon's masterlist
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If Leon Kennedy could stop time right now, he would. He had to be out of your house within ten minutes if he didn't want to be late; he was never late, but all his responsibilities were thrown out the window when it came to you. Your presence influenced his mind and sense of duty.
"There is nothing bad on putting yourself first, Leon."
And there you are, legs spread apart, humping your clothed sex against his knee, a frantic desire for someone who won't see each other for weeks. Your eyes are locked on his, drowsy with pleasure, begging for more than Leon can give now. 
"Don't do this to me," Leon whispers, his cock twitching in his pants. He wants you to give you everything, but he limits himself to helping, gloved hands on your hips, creating more friction.
Leon glances from your focused face, to your chest, your hips, to then your covered sex. His eyes lust as he notices the wet spot in your underwear. Leon licks his lips unconsciously, his hands impatiently pulling your underwear down.
His gloved hands start rubbing your aching sex, not slow as usual times, but more frantic, his gaze directed to your face again, anxious to know if he is pleasing you or not. You yelp, surprised by the difference on the texture, not his warm hands, but the raspy texture of his gloves.
And though he isn't used to dirty talk (Leon always mentions how awkward and silly he feels), he still does it for you. 
"Can I can make you cum like this? Right in my knee? Please, so I can remember you."  
You answer with a sob, fingers digging into his shoulders. You start whimpering; so close now, so close to let it rip and cum in your underwear. 
It is Leon moaning your name, his hands stroking your sex, that makes the rope rip. You finally let go, locking your lips with his. After a couple of minutes of your heavy breathing, you look at the clock. Five minutes until Leon has to leave. He notices your intentions, stopping your wrist before it touches his bulge.
"Ah, ah. Not now ,later."
"We have time." You argue. Always so stubborn. Or spoiled by him, didn't make a difference.
"Let's just stay like this for a while, okay?" Leon asks, holding you tightly in his arms, your hands gripping his vest. You both don't say anything until you whisper.
"Do not dare to not come back to me-"
"I know."
"-I am serious, Leon!" 
"I know. I will come back to you, I promise."
A promise—a promise you both don't know when Leon might not be able to keep. But Leon promises it anyway because what lengths wouldn't he go for you? 
Less than a minute now. You sigh, ready to leave his lap. You notice he makes no motion to remove his gloves, and you can't help but cringe and feel powerful at the same time. You have a full view of what started all of this: the jeans, the blue shirt rolled up into his sleeves, and those darn gloves. Leon notices you staring and blushes, looking at you in that innocent way it drives you crazy.
"Don't start." You warn him. He raises his arms up, as if not doing anything. Bastard.
It is time for him to leave. You leave his lap, dressing Leon's old shirt from an unknown band from the '90s you were wearing before his arrival. You two kiss again, this time more tender, more gentle, sealing the promise.
Come back to me.
I will.
You let your man go, and Leon doesn't look back when the door closes. You bite your lips, and the sense of dread and despair when he is gone starts growing in your chest. You can't let sadness invade you like this, not like last time. A new idea pops into your head. But for that, you must call the other man in your and Leon's life. 
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thef1diary · 10 hours
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While It Lasts | L. Norris - 1
Summary: Lando expected nothing more than relaxation and fun for two weeks during his summer break. What he didn’t anticipate was meeting you, someone who felt like a perfect match in every way. As the days quickly passed, he found himself falling deeply for you, only to be confronted with the heart-wrenching reality that your time together was far more limited than he ever imagined.
Part 2 coming soon
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PLEASE READ: This story contains themes of loss, morality, fear, death, relationship strains, mental health struggles, including significant emotional impact related to the reader’s journey with a chronic illness and some scenes are set in hospitals. Reminder that this is simply a work of fiction, please don’t take it to heart.
a hugeee thank you to @chilling-seavey @thefourthln @faithshouseofchaos for proofreading this and constantly reassuring me that this isn’t shit 😭 I wouldn’t have posted this fic without your support 🫶🏻
pairing: lando x fem!reader
wc: 15.9k (because tumblr won't let me post the whole thing at once)
© thef1diary 2024. all rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate or repost any of my work.
“C’mon, you’re gonna love it there,” Lando attempted to persuade his best friend. 
Max Fewtrell rolled his eyes, asking incredulously, “mate, are you seriously considering taking us to a small town over partying all day, everyday in the city?”
Lando shrugged, holding his finger up for a moment, asking him to wait while he scrolled through his phone to find the photos that Carlos sent him earlier. “It’s not just a small town, look at this.” He turned the phone around to show his best friend the photos of their potential home for the next two weeks. 
Max scoffed, still not believing that Lando was changing their pre-made plans at the last minute, “and why would Carlos just give you the keys to that villa looking thing?” 
“It’s his uncle’s vacation home, and it’ll be empty if we don’t go. You don’t want to leave this beauty empty, do you?” 
Max sighed, rolling his eyes at his best friend’s antics. As soon as he saw the photos, he was convinced to discard the previous plans and take the opportunity to live in that home, but of course he wouldn’t admit it straightaway. 
“Show me the photos again,” he simply muttered, earning a laugh from Lando as he swiped through the pictures. 
“There’s literally only one other house nearby, we won’t get that in the city now, would we?” Lando commented, watching the cogs turning in Max’s mind. 
Despite Max's initial reluctance, Lando could see the spark of curiosity flickering in his friend's eyes as he examined the photos. He knew he was close to winning Max over.
"So, what do you say, Max? Are you in?" Lando pressed, a hopeful tone in his voice.
Max hesitated for a moment, weighing his options before finally letting out a resigned sigh. "Alright, fine, you win. Let's give this small town adventure a shot," he conceded, unable to resist the allure of the stunning villa.
Lando grinned triumphantly. "Trust me, mate, you won't regret it," he assured him, clapping him on the back.
“Yeah, yeah, we’ll see about that. When are we leaving?” He asked instead, still not wanting to get his hopes up in case he would be left disappointed. 
“Tomorrow.” 
“Tomorrow?” Max asked, eyes widening when Lando nodded. 
“Go pack your bags, mate,” Lando shoved him with full force once he noticed Max wasn’t leaving the room.
He laughed when Max finally regained his sense of motion and scrambled out the room, muttering to himself while packing everything he thought he needed for the next two weeks. Despite having a habit of travelling, it wasn’t any less stressful to pack, especially with a short notice.  
Lando sighed and leaned back into his chair, holding up his phone in front of him. He admired the picturesque view of the villa in the photos, containing his excitement because he would be able to see the same view in person soon enough. 
Perhaps this was what he needed, especially after the stress that continued to build up over the first half of the season. While he had a better start to the season than he was used to, it didn’t ease any pressure. He was constantly thinking about what he can do as a driver to improve the car while having to face the media at every race weekend and answering the same question over and over again. It was too much for him to handle. 
It was part of the reason why he was adamant on convincing Max to take a break in a place where they wouldn’t be seen as much as they usually do in Monaco. It would give him a chance of exploring a new town while also staying under the radar. 
When Carlos first suggested the idea, Lando instantly agreed. The promise of two weeks of relaxation and exploration ahead sounded like a dream to him. Lando couldn't wait to leave the pressures of the racing world behind and immerse himself in the beauty of the coastal town. Little did he know, amidst the winding streets and sun-kissed beaches, he would find more than just a temporary escape.
— 
As the taxi pulled up to the gates, the driver turned to them with a grin. "Here we are, gentlemen. Enjoy your stay," he announced, gesturing towards the grand entrance of the villa. 
Max and Lando exchanged glances, eager to explore the town. They thanked the driver before stepping out of the taxi, and their eyes widened in awe at the sight of their temporary abode. The grand villa stood just up ahead of them, its white walls gleaming in the golden light of the setting sun. The only barrier slightly obstructing their view were the large steel gates, shut to prevent any trespassers. 
"Whoa!" Max exclaimed, his voice filled with excitement.
Lando nodded in agreement, already reaching for his phone to capture the moment. "This place is insane," he remarked, snapping a quick selfie, giving a cheesy smile while holding up his thumb with the villa in the background.
Max chuckled, watching as Lando posed for the photo. "Gonna send that to Carlos?" he asked, a grin spreading across his face.
Lando nodded, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Yep, just to make him jealous," he replied, tapping away at his phone before sending the selfie to Carlos with a playful message: ‘You’re missing out!’
“Where’s he anyways?” Max asked but his gaze never left the sight in front of him. 
Lando’s thumbs moved across the screen as he typed out another message, possibly replying to Carlos who always texted back within minutes. 
Moments later, he turned the phone to show the screen to Max. Carlos had responded to Lando’s selfie with one of his own, showing off the view he was enjoying in the background. A pair of blue goggles covered his eyes and he held his thumb up in a playful manner as well. It was evident that he was standing on a yacht, surrounded by a form of nature in its entirety. 
“Guess he’s not exactly missing out. When is he not on a boat?” Max asked jokingly. 
Lando shrugged, “when he’s not cycling I guess.” 
When he turned the screen back towards him, he noticed another text from Carlos. ‘Don’t break anything’
He scoffed, shaking his head before pocketing his phone, ignoring his message. He was mature enough to know that, even if a few broken trophies claimed otherwise. 
The taxi drove off, leaving the men standing with their luggages in front of the gate. The breeze passed through Lando’s curls, causing him to turn around and squint his eyes to look up at the leaves on the trees swaying around. The setting sun pierced his eyes, but his gaze didn’t waver from it, a smile growing on his face since he already began liking the peaceful environment. 
“Mate,” Max’s voice broke the silence. When Lando looked at him expectantly, he gestured towards the gates. “Are we just here to look at it from outside or do you know the code to get in?”
Lando’s eyes widened, “oh yeah, Carlos told me the code, hold on.” He fumbled for his phone, quickly locating the message from Carlos with the access code. 
Before he could punch in the code, the sound of a car door slamming loudly took their attention away from the villa. 
Max and Lando simultaneously spotted another home further down the street across from theirs, the only one apart from the villa for miles. It stood in stark contrast, a quaint cottage nestled amidst a grove of cherry blossom trees. It looked smaller, but they knew not to be fooled, knowing the cottage only appeared smaller since it was further away. 
"Looks like we've got neighbors," Lando remarked, pointing towards the distant cottage. 
“So much for silence,” Max mumbled. 
As soon as Max’s words were spoken out loud, their attention shifted to the cause of the sound; you. 
Unlike Lando and Max, your day hadn’t been going well. Actually, you don’t believe that you’ve experienced a single good day in the past couple years; not since the day you received your reports. 
You remember that day vividly, the memories playing out in your mind like a horror movie. Despite many efforts from your close friends and family to cheer you up, you don’t believe that any smile you’ve given was genuine. Not a single one. 
You shut your eyes tightly, but it only intensified the memories, causing you to find a way to shift your attention. Your gaze was attracted to the sun that was moments away from slipping underneath the horizon. 
Contrasting to Lando’s thoughts from earlier, who smiled at the sunset because watching it cemented the fact that he was away from the chaos in cities and his world of racing, you thought of the guarantee that the sun will rise again tomorrow, one certainty you never had about yourself. 
Once you slammed the car door shut, a surge of frustration and anger coursed through you, making your brother, Isaac, who was also getting out of the car, wince in discomfort. It was his car, after all, and you knew you shouldn't take your frustrations out on one of his most prized possessions, but the weight of your own mortality pressed down on you like a suffocating blanket.
Another visit to the hospital had left you feeling drained and defeated, the latest round of test results delivering yet another blow to your already fragile health. The doctors' words echoed in your mind, their somber tones a stark reminder of the grim reality you faced.
You were angry – angry at the world for dealing you such a terrible fate, angry at your own body for betraying you, angry at the uncertainty that loomed over your future like a dark cloud. Would you live another day, another year, or was each moment you spent on this earth merely borrowed time?
Your hands trembled with a mixture of fear and frustration as you struggled to make sense of it all. You’ve been in this situation multiple times over the past couple years, wondering why the doctors always gave you a false sense of hope until the facts proved otherwise, but every time still felt like the first. Your illness was something you could never wrap your head around. The questions swirled in your mind, unanswered and unanswerable, leaving you feeling helpless and alone.
As you leaned against the car, your breath coming in ragged gasps, you felt a sense of despair wash over you. The world seemed cruel and indifferent, its vastness stretching out before you like an endless void.
Despite looking at the sun until it made your eyes water, or perhaps those were just your tears caused by your anger turning into sadness, your mind was still filled with all sorts of thoughts while your heart held various emotions. 
The one thing that did divert your mind was the sound of rackety steel gates opening further down the street. Those gates hadn’t been open in about a year, making it in desperate need of oil on the hinges. 
You remembered the family that visited very often once upon a time—the Sainz family—but those visits became less and less frequent as the years went by. 
However, once you heard laughter echoing down the street, you couldn’t place a name to the sound. You squinted your eyes to focus on the scene since you had forgotten your glasses inside your home. Your eyesight was one of the first things that started deteriorating, making it hard to believe that you once had perfect vision.
You could make out the shape of two men, seemingly young and nowhere near a part of the family that owned the villa. 
With a heavy heart, you turned away from the villa, knowing it was time to spend a quiet night in. The sun had long gone beneath the horizon, turning the orange skies into hues of blue as you made your way towards your small cottage.
Inside, the air was heavy with the scent of stale coffee from the early morning hours before you rushed to the hospital. The unmistakable scent of antiseptics mixed with coffee, a reminder that your home was slowly becoming similar to the emergency rooms. 
Your brother hovered nearby, his expression etched with concern as he watched you sink into a worn armchair. He had moved in once your health didn’t show any signs of improvement, taking on the older brother role even if he was a few years younger. 
"Are you okay?" Isaac asked, his voice filled with worry.
You nodded, forcing a weak smile as you tried to push aside the weight of your own fears. "I'm fine," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.
But deep down, you knew the truth. You were anything but fine. The uncertainty of your future loomed over you like a dark cloud, threatening to consume you whole.
“Do you need anything before I make dinner?” He stood in front of you, fidgeting with his hands. 
The mention of dinner made you look up at him, shifting in the armchair as you prepared to stand up. His hands instantly shot out in case you stumbled over your feet. 
“Let me help you make dinner,” you spoke, placing your hand on his shoulder to stabilize yourself. 
He began shaking his head but your eyes pleaded with him. 
“Please, I’m not completely useless yet,” You added, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to deny you since it was a trick you used when you were both younger. 
He sighed, wanting to tell you that you weren’t useless at all, but it would open another can of worms. “Don’t push yourself too hard,” he settled instead. 
You firmly nodded, and threaded your arm around his as he led you to the kitchen. He knew that he shouldn’t have let you help, especially after an appointment, but he also knew that if he left you alone, your thoughts would drown you. 
All you needed was company, and he was more than willing to do anything to help you especially since he felt helpless otherwise. 
The rhythmic chopping of vegetables filled the air as you and Isaac worked together in the kitchen. He hovered nearby, his presence a silent reassurance that you were not alone in your struggle.
"Need any help with that?" he asked, gesturing towards the cutting board where you were slicing tomatoes with unsteady hands.
You shook your head, trying to hide the tremor in your voice. "I've got it, thanks."
But he could see through your facade, his eyes filled with concern as he watched you work. "Are you sure? You seem a bit off today." 
He had made it his responsibility to take you to your appointments, and he noticed that your mood deflated even more than the last visit.
You forced a smile, hoping to alleviate his worries. "I'm fine, just tired from the hospital visit."
He didn't look convinced, but he didn't press further. Instead, he moved closer, offering a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Well, let me know if you need anything. I'm here for you, okay?"
You nodded, grateful for his support. "Thanks, I appreciate it."
As you continued to cook together, the tension in the air eased, replaced by the familiar rhythm of sibling banter and shared laughter. 
“Oh, did you see our new neighbours?” You asked once you sat down to eat. 
Your brother nodded, a muffled sound leaving his mouth since he was in the midst of chewing. 
Your face twisted in disgust, “ew, eat your food, don’t show it.” He playfully smacked your arm before swallowing and you had to hide the wince that almost overtook your expressions. You rubbed your arm once he was distracted, already knowing that it’ll bruise even if the smack was light. 
“As I was saying,” he glared at you for a brief moment before continuing, “I noticed them coming in.” 
“How long do you think they’re gonna stay?” 
He added, making you shrug, “no idea, a couple weeks?” 
Meanwhile, down the street, Max and Lando were immediately struck by the grandeur inside the villa. They had already explored the surroundings outside while the sun was setting, and were greeted by a scene of serene beauty and tranquility. 
The sprawling grounds stretched out before them, bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun. Lush greenery enveloped the landscape, with meticulously landscaped gardens and manicured lawns spreading out in all directions.
Tall palm trees swayed gently in the breeze, their fronds rustling softly as if whispering secrets to the wind. Vibrant bursts of color from exotic flowers and fragrant blossoms added splashes of brightness to the landscape, while the sweet scent of blooming jasmine and lavender hung in the air.
A cobblestone pathway wound its way through the gardens, meandering past secluded alcoves and hidden nooks waiting to be explored. Stone benches and wrought iron chairs provided inviting spots to sit and enjoy the beauty of nature, while the soothing sound of a trickling fountain added a sense of serenity to the atmosphere.
In the distance, the shimmering surface of a swimming pool caught the last rays of sunlight, beckoning with promises of cool refreshment on a warm summer's day. Beyond the pool, a charming gazebo nestled amidst a grove of trees offered a secluded retreat, its elegant structure inviting relaxation and contemplation.
Inside the villa, Max and Lando found themselves immersed in a world of luxury and refinement. Marble floors gleamed underfoot, their polished surfaces reflecting the soft glow of crystal chandeliers that hung from the ceiling. The air was infused with the scent of subtle hints of vanilla and sandalwood, creating an atmosphere of opulence.
Plush furnishings adorned with rich fabrics and intricate patterns beckoned invitingly, promising comfort and relaxation. Oversized sofas and armchairs offered sumptuous seating, their cushions plump and inviting, while ornate coffee tables and sideboards showcased exquisite craftsmanship and timeless elegance.
Large windows framed breathtaking views of the surrounding countryside, their sheer curtains billowing gently in the breeze. Soft, ambient lighting cast warm pools of light in every corner, creating a sense of coziness and intimacy that enveloped the space.
Throughout the villa, works of art adorned the walls, adding a touch of sophistication and culture to the elegant surroundings. Paintings and sculptures, each one a masterpiece in its own right, spoke of a life of privilege and refinement, while delicate vases filled with fresh flowers added a touch of natural beauty to the lavish interiors.
In every room, from the grand foyer to the luxurious bedrooms and bathrooms, attention to detail was evident at every turn. From the intricate carvings on the furniture to the delicate lace trim on the curtains, no expense had been spared in creating a sanctuary of unparalleled beauty and comfort.
As Max and Lando explored the villa, they couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder and awe at the sheer magnificence of their surroundings. For a moment, they forgot about the outside world, lost in the splendor of their temporary home and the promise of adventure that lay ahead.
While Max’s gaze wandered around in amazement, Lando nudged him with a mischievous smile of his own. “Told ya it’ll be worth it.” 
He rolled his eyes but still agreed, “yeah I guess it is.” 
Then, Max bursted into a sprint, running up the stairs while yelling loudly, “I get first pick!” 
Lando shook his head, disagreeing immediately while chasing behind him. After all, they were two men who were kids at heart that were given a huge home all for themselves. 
The next morning dawned bright and clear, filling the villa with a warm golden light that spilled through the windows and danced across the marble floors. 
Lando had been awake for the past couple hours, his internal clock still set to his racing routine. He had woken up to the melody of birds chirping away and light filtering through the sheer curtains, basking for a moment in the change of scenery. 
He had gone for a morning run, relishing the fresh air and serene beauty of the surroundings. On the way back, he picked up some pastries from a local bakery, their aroma enticing and warm. 
Returning to the villa, Lando hummed a tune as he walked towards the kitchen. He paused for a moment, his eyes widening at the amount of natural light coming in through the big windows. The morning sun added a fresh, beautiful touch to the villa, reflecting off the furniture and transforming the space. 
As he placed the pastries on the kitchen counter, Max emerged from his room, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, taking in the sight of the sun-drenched villa. “Morning, mate,” he greeted, his voice still laced with traces of sleep. 
“Morning, Max,” Lando replied, holding back a chuckle at his messy morning hair. 
He was lured by the aroma of freshly brewed coffee, mingling with the scent of freshly baked pastries. 
“Mm, smells amazing but where did these come from?” He asked before popping a pastry in his mouth. His eyes closed as it melted in his mouth, savouring the taste for a moment. 
Lando grinned, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes. “Glad you like them, I picked them up on my morning run,” he admitted. 
Max raised an eyebrow in surprise. “You went for a run?” he asked, his tone filled with amusement. 
Lando nodded, taking a sip of his coffee. “Yeah, figured I’d explore the area a bit and see what’s around,” he explained. 
The first thing Lando did when he laid in bed last night was bring out his phone to search for things to do in this small town. Unfortunately, the internet wasn’t much help, so he decided to take a look around by himself, and perhaps even ask a few locals for advice. 
Then he ducked his head and rubbed his palm on the nape of his neck, “and Jon told me to keep training while we’re here.” 
Max chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. “Well, thanks for bringing back breakfast,” he added, reaching for another pastry. 
Lando picked up one for himself. “Yeah, no problem, but don’t expect it everyday,” he said with a cheeky smile. Max rolled his eyes, ignoring his comment as he sipped on his coffee. 
“What are you planning on doing today?” Max asked after a moment of silence. 
“I saw this market on my run earlier, and was thinking of going to go check it out,” he hummed, thinking back to the beautiful scenery during his short cardio session. 
Max laughed, “look at you, living the small town life already.” 
Lando reached over to smack the pastry out of Max’s hand that he was about to eat. “Hey!” He exclaimed, looking at the fallen treat. 
There was a beat of silence, before Max and Lando made eye contact and then they bursted out into giggles. Amidst their laughter, Max reached down to pick up the fallen pastry, dusting it off before stuffing it in his mouth. 
“Five-second rule, mate,” he muffled. 
“What are you gonna do?” Lando asked, ignoring his best friend’s antics.
He simply shrugged, “I don’t know, mate.” 
“Wanna join me?” Lando suggested, earning a nod from Max, a teasing smile growing on his face. 
“I thought you’d never ask.” 
Lando rolled his eyes, “you don’t have to wait for me to ask.” 
With their breakfast antics over, Lando and Max quickly finished their coffee before deciding to venture out into the town. As they stepped outside, the warm rays of the sun enveloped them, casting a golden glow over the quaint streets. 
The scorching sun bore down upon them, turning the cobblestones into radiant paths of heat. Lando and Max, feeling the intensity of the sun’s rays, walked with beads of sweat forming on their brows. 
Max shielded his eyes from the sun with a hand since he had misplaced his sunglasses. 
Once they were a couple minutes into the walk, they realized that the market they planned to visit was further away than they initially thought. The narrow streets, lined with colourful houses and blooming flowers, stretched out before them, inviting them on a leisurely stroll. 
“Why are we walking?” Max asked, still holding his hand up for a shade. 
Lando raised his own sunglasses to the top of his head in disbelief, “why don’t you have your sunglasses?” 
“Forgot ‘em at the villa,” he grumbled, which only made Lando laugh louder. 
“Check your pockets, mate.” 
Max’s eyes widened when he did in fact find his sunglasses in his pocket. He slid them onto his face with a sigh of relief, finally able to open his eyes properly. 
Just as they began to feel the discomfort of the sweltering weather, a gentle breeze swept in from the nearby seaside, bringing with it a cool and invigorating relief. The breeze, infused with the scent of salt, tousled their hair and kissed their skin, providing a much needed respite from the heat. 
After a few more minutes of walking, Max and Lando finally stumbled upon the market. It was nestled in a quaint square lined with vibrant stalls, each overflowing with a colourful array of fruits, vegetables, flowers, and artisanal crafts. 
They wove their way through the crowded square, taking in the sights and the sounds of the market. The air was alive with the chatter of vendors and the laughter of shoppers, creating a lively atmosphere. The breeze was stronger as the market was closer to the seaside, blowing close to harsh wind in their faces, but it was welcomed due to the strong sun. 
As they browsed the stalls, Max sampled a couple local delicacies first and Lando waited for his approval before trying them as well. 
“Does it have fish?” Lando asked, hesitant in taking the sample from the vendor. 
The vendor chuckled, “no, sir, it’s a dessert filled with cream, topped with hardened sugar.” 
Lando’s mouth dropped open in understanding before taking the sample from him. 
Max couldn’t resist picking up a few souvenirs to take home, like a proper tourist, while Lando struck up conversations with other locals, wanting to find out some details about the town. 
As he held a couple bags of items he bought to remember this trip, Max’s eyes lit up when he spotted a bakery on the other side of the market. 
“Hey, I’m going to check out the bakery over there,” Max pointed. “Grab a couple more treats,” he added. 
Lando nodded, his attention drawn to a colourful display of ripe fruits nearby. “Sounds good, I’ll catch up with you in a bit.” 
The two friends parted ways, Max was enticed by the scent of warm pastries waiting for him while Lando’s mouth watered at the sight of juicy fruits. His trainer had wanted him to stay healthy throughout the break anyways, and this was the perfect opportunity. 
He greeted the vendor and began eyeing the various fruits; plump oranges, crisp apples, perfectly ripe bananas, and more. 
“Good morning! What can I get for you today?” The vendor asked, and Lando thought for a moment before replying. 
“I’ll take some of those oranges, grapes, and oh some apples too, please.” 
The vendor nodded and began putting the fruits into the paper bags, but paused once he bagged both the grapes and oranges. “Forget these apples, get these ones instead,” they said while showcasing another tray of apples that looked very similar. 
“It’s our premium organic apples, the best ones of the bunch.” 
Lando hesitated for a moment, but the vendor’s persuasive tone convinced him that it was a steal. 
To persuade Lando even further, the vendor added, “these ones are special, organic, freshly picked this morning. I’ll give you a good deal, just five dollars for one.” 
Lando blinked in surprise at the price, wondering if a single apple was genuinely five dollars, but then again he never had to do any grocery shopping on his own. Jon would usually bring it for him, or do all the work if they went together. 
Then he reasoned that it must be a rare variety or exceptionally fresh. “Alright, sounds good, give me a couple.” 
Lando happily handed over the money, and thanked the vendor once they passed over the bags. He paused for a moment once he returned to the main street, inhaling the breeze, feeling the tension of his usual everyday life slowly melt away. 
He spotted Max, noticing that he held even more bags than when he previously saw him. As Lando and Max regrouped near the bakery, the latter raved about the variety of treats he bought. “Mate! I think I bought everything.” 
They scanned the bustling market once more, wondering if they should take another look or return to the villa. Max’s gaze wandered towards the seaside, where tranquil waves lapped against the shore. 
“Hey, isn’t that our neighbour from the villa? The one who lives in the cottage?” Max asked, gaining Lando’s attention. 
He followed Max’s gaze and spotted you sitting alone on a bench gazing out at the sparkling sea. Recognition dawned on Lando’s face as he remembered you from yesterday. “Yeah, it is, should I go say hi?” 
Max considered it for a moment, glancing back at the path towards the villa before turning to Lando with a shrug. “Sure, why not? I’ll head back to the villa; catch up later yeah?” 
Lando nodded, grateful for Max’s understanding. “Are you sure you’ll be fine with carrying all that?” He asked jokingly, gesturing at the bags he held. 
“Shut up,” he muttered, nudging him with his shoulder. 
Lando walked off with a chuckle, “see ya.” 
His laughter died down as he approached you, noticing that your gaze was still fixed on the horizon as if you were searching for answers in the endless expanse of the sea. Perhaps you were, and he felt slightly guilty for approaching you, especially since you were far away from the rest of the crowd. 
However, before he could abort the idea, you glanced to the side, looking at him with confusion replacing your previous expressions. 
"Mind if I join you?" he asked, flashing a friendly smile as he stood there, pointing to the empty space next to you. 
Your eyes clouded with a mixture of weariness and suspicion. "Suit yourself," you replied, your tone curt.
Undeterred by your guarded demeanor, Lando took a seat beside you, his curiosity piqued by the enigmatic stranger before him. "Beautiful day, isn't it?" he ventured, attempting to break the ice.
You scoffed, a bitter edge creeping into your voice. "I suppose," you muttered, your gaze returning to the horizon.
Sensing the walls you had erected around yourself, Lando decided to tread carefully, unwilling to push too hard too soon. He placed the bag of fruits on the grass before extending his hand in greeting. "I'm Lando," he introduced himself. 
You hesitated for a moment before reluctantly accepting his handshake and introduced yourself, offering a tentative smile that failed to reach your eyes.
He repeated your name, wanting to become familiar with the way the vowels wrapped around his lips because he had a feeling that he would be saying your name a lot more often now. 
Despite the initial awkwardness, Lando found himself drawn to you, intrigued by the mystery that shrouded your presence. He wondered why you were sitting here alone when there was a crowded market not too far away from here, but he didn’t have the strength to ask just yet. 
He leaned against the bench, sighing as he watched the horizon just like you were. However, it became difficult to choose if the seaside view was prettier or you. He didn’t want you to think he was a creep, so he stole some glances at you every couple of moments without you knowing. 
As you sat in companionable silence, the gentle sound of waves lapping against the shore provided a soothing backdrop, preventing the situation from feeling awkward. 
“How long have you lived in this town?” Lando asked, but the moment he did, he thought that it was too intrusive. 
He waited, one beat, two beats, before you responded. “I’ve lived here my whole life,” you admitted. 
A small smile threatened to grace your lips as you thought of the happier memories you’ve spent here, the ones before the news that turned you into a shell of the person you were once. 
“This town has always been home to me,” you added. 
Lando’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Really? That’s amazing,” he exclaimed, genuine interest sparkling in his eyes. But then his brows furrowed, “have you never felt like leaving this place behind? Move somewhere in the city?” 
You pressed your lips together in a tight smile, thinking of a response that wasn’t along the lines of I did want to leave. I had plans and dreams of studying abroad, living in the city, but fate had a different plan. Instead, you shrugged, “no, I’ve never thought about it before. I guess I like the community here, you know, everyone knows everyone.” 
He chuckled, “that can’t be a good thing all the time though.” 
You shook your head, “not always, news travels around pretty fast.” Feeling a tad bit intrigued by him, you asked, “so what made you come here?” 
“The villa. It’s my friend’s family’s villa and he lent it out for a couple weeks,” he explained, causing you to widen your eyes. “Oh, so you’re my neighbour?” 
He ducked his head and smiled sheepishly, “yeah, that’s, um, kind of why I approached you in the first place.” 
As the conversation ebbed between you and Lando, a comfortable silence settled over the two of you, punctuated only by the rhythmic sounds of waves crashing against the shore. 
After a while, Lando cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “Hey, I was wondering… since you’re a local and all, would you mind showing me and a friend around town?” he asked, a hopeful smile on his face. 
When you didn’t answer right away, he continued explaining. “We’ve never been here before, and since we’re here for two weeks, I want to know every hidden gem and secret spot here, something less touristy.” 
You could tell that he was beginning to become nervous, especially based on your expression which you assumed wasn’t kind. You forced a smile on your face, instinctively grazing his knee with your palm that wouldn’t stop bouncing up and down. 
“Yeah, I’ll show you guys around,” you responded, and the warmth of your tone sent a ripple of excitement through Lando. 
His smile widened, “thank you! I went by the market today but I feel like I should have someone giving me a little bit more direction on what to do here.” 
“Oh you went to the market? Buy anything?” You asked, wanting to keep the conversation flowing as well, especially since you liked hearing him speak. 
Lando gestured to the paper bag resting on the floor, “I got a couple fruits. Max, my friend, stocked up on the pastries from the bakery there. He already fell in love with them.” 
You didn’t stop the smile growing on your face. “I totally get that, anything from that bakery is to die for.” 
But then you glanced at the bag he held, and watching your gaze, he elaborated. “I got these organic apples, the vendor said they were giving me a pretty good deal, five dollars each.” 
Your jaw dropped, “five dollars each? You totally got scammed.”
Lando’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Scammed? What do you mean?” he asked, his curiosity piqued. 
“No one sells a single apple for $5, Lando, no matter how ‘organic’ they tell you it is,” you explain, but based on his expression, he still didn’t understand why. 
Although his eyes did widen as he examined the contents. Now that he thought about it, the prices on the fruit seemed exorbitant, far beyond what he thought Jon paid. 
“Everyone in this town bargains, especially in the market,” you added, and he frowned. 
“I don’t need to bargain.” 
You shook your head. “I’m sure you’re rich enough, but the point is that every vendor marks up the price because they know the locals bargain. The public is happy because they bargained, and the vendor is satisfied because the products still sell at a good price.” 
He nodded in understanding, “oh, that’s weird, usually you just pay the price on the tag.” 
“Well that’s the thing, there aren’t any tags, the vendors just set the prices, and they also mark it up if they know that you’re a tourist.” 
His jaw dropped in surprise, “what? That’s not fair.” 
“And that is why you need to know your way around here,” you added, earning a smile from him. 
“That’s why you’re my tour guide.” 
You looked at the horizon as his gaze felt too intense in that moment. He still looked at you, a soft smile on his face mixed with lingering curiosity about you and this town that seemed to draw him in instantly. 
Just then, a familiar voice called out from behind you. “Hey, I’m all done, let’s go back home now?” 
You turned to see Isaac standing with his hands full of produce he bought for dinner, but a curious expression on his face as he noticed Lando next to you. 
“Um, yeah, did you get everything?” You ask as you stand up, and your brother immediately holds out his arm so you can loop your own with his. 
“Yes ma’am, I bought everything on the list,” he said playfully. 
Before he could lead you away, you patted his arm and glanced at Lando, “oh, this is Lando, our neighbour, at the villa.” 
Your brother’s eyes flickered with recognition as he glanced at Lando. “Ah, yes, nice to meet you, I’m Isaac.” 
The corner of Lando’s lip turned up briefly, before he nodded, “same here.” 
The afternoon sun was shining, yet it was cooler than earlier, making the journey back towards your street easier. The market had an influx of visitors since many preferred to stay at home when the morning heat was ablaze. 
Since the three of you were headed in the same direction, you decided to walk together. You walked side by side with your brother, your arm still looped with his. Lando had taken the liberty to carry a couple bags that Isaac held. 
Lando walked a couple steps ahead, as if he was the local and you were the tourist. You didn’t mind it though, because his gaze confused you. Every time he looked at you, he was either close to figuring out your secrets or he was just blissfully unaware.  
He was still a stranger, and you had no plans on telling him anything more than you had to. 
As you walked, the lively chatter of the market gradually faded into the background, replaced by the soothing sounds of the occasional rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze. 
Despite the tranquility of the moment, you couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the back of your mind. Lando’s presence just a couple steps in front of you felt both comforting and disconcerting, his easy demeanour belaying the mystery that seemed to arise at times. 
You thought back to your conversation at the bench, not finding anything concerning about the questions he asked or the responses to yours, but you couldn’t help but still feel on edge. Perhaps you wanted to trust him, but your mind didn’t allow it as easily as your heart willed you to. 
Isaac couldn’t resist teasing you, nudging your side with his elbow and tilting his head towards Lando. 
“So what’s the deal with you and the new neighbour, huh?” he whispered, keeping his voice down to prevent Lando from hearing him. 
You rolled your eyes, playfully swatting at his arm. “Oh, please. There’s no deal, we just met today.” 
Isaac raised an eyebrow, a knowing smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “Uh-huh, sure. But I think you’ll be seeing him a lot more often now, don’t you think so?” 
You nodded, “well he does live nearby, and he wants me to be a tour guide for him and his friend, Max, for the time they’re here.” 
He chuckled, his grin widening. “That’s very convenient. But I think you’ve got an admirer.” 
You scoffed, trying to brush off his teasing. “Don’t be ridiculous, he’s just being friendly.” 
“Keep telling yourself that, we’ll see what happens in the next couple of days,” he stated as he draped an arm around your shoulder which only lasted a couple seconds before you pushed him away. 
Since he wasn’t satisfied with just teasing you, he joined Lando’s side, instantly striking up a conversation. “So, Lando, enjoying your stay in our little town so far?” 
He nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. “Definitely, it’s been a refreshing change of scenery.” 
They continued on, speaking as if they knew each other for years.
As you neared the cottage, Lando handed Isaac the paper bags and bid you farewell. “Thanks for the company today, I’ll see you guys around.” 
With a nod and a wave, you and Isaac made your way inside, leaving the events of the day behind you as you retreated into the sanctuary of your shared abode. 
As the late morning sun filtered through the curtains, you stirred from your sleep, greeted by the familiar routine that marks the start of another day. The soft chirping of birds and faint chatter outside your window served as your alarm, nudging you gently into wakefulness.
You slid out of bed and padded over to the window, drawing back the curtains to reveal the tranquil scene outside. The small seaside town unfolded before you, bathed in the soft glow of morning light. It was a picturesque sight, one that you've grown accustomed to over the years.
With a sigh, you turned away from the window and began your morning routine. It's a well-worn pattern by now – first, you head to the bathroom to wash up and brush your teeth, the sound of running water a familiar soundtrack to your mornings.
Next comes the more clinical aspect of your routine. You reached for the small plastic organizer on the bathroom counter, filled with an assortment of medications neatly arranged in separate compartments. Your brother's voice echoed in your mind as you recalled his daily reminder to take your pills – a routine that has become as routine as brushing your teeth.
You dutifully pop each pill into your mouth, washing them down with a gulp of water. It's a mundane task, but one that is essential to your well-being. You've grown accustomed to the bitter taste of the medication, the lingering reminder of your illness that you can't escape.
Once the pills are swallowed, you move on to the next item on your checklist. Your brother's voice drifts in from the hallway, asking if you've taken your medication yet. You respond with a simple "yes," the words slipping easily from your lips.
As you go about your morning routine, there's a sense of detachment that settles over you – a feeling of going through the motions without really being present. It's a coping mechanism, a way to distance yourself from the reality of your illness and the uncertainty that comes with it.
But despite the clinical nature of your routine, there's a quiet determination that drives you forward. Each pill swallowed, each task completed is a small victory in the ongoing battle against your illness, however it’s a battle that you’re not sure if you’ll win or not. 
You finish your morning routine and join Isaac in the kitchen, where he’s already preparing breakfast. He glances up at you as you enter, a warm smile on his face. 
“Morning, sleepyhead,” he greets you, handing you a mug of steaming coffee, your one and only cup a day according to doctor’s orders. 
Still lost in your thoughts, you burn your tongue as you take the first sip. Isaac eyes you carefully, a hint of concern in his gaze as you grab an ice cube and stick it in your mouth. 
“You doing okay?” he asks, his voice soft. 
You force a smile, hoping to reassure him. Pushing the ice cube towards your cheek, you speak, “yeah, just another day.” 
“Just another day? Don’t you have to show Lando and Max around?” He asks, but quickly shifts his gaze to the egg on the pan. 
You nod, grateful for the distraction from your thoughts. "Yeah, I do. I almost forgot," you reply, mentally shaking off the lingering unease that had gripped you earlier.
Isaac watches you closely, his concern evident in his furrowed brow. "Are you sure you're up for it?" he asks, his tone gentle.
You give him a reassuring smile, trying to push aside the gnawing doubts that linger at the back of your mind. 
"I'll be fine," you insist, though the words sound hollow even to your own ears. “I’m thinking of showing them around some of the touristy spots first to get it out of the way, and then some historical sites if they’re up for it,” you explain, making a mental checklist. 
He nods, accepting your answer for now. "Just take it easy, okay? And call me if you need anything," he says, reaching out to squeeze your hand.
You squeeze his hand back, grateful for his unwavering support. "Thanks, Isaac," you murmur, feeling a sense of warmth wash over you in his presence.
Together, you and Isaac finish your breakfast in companionable silence, the weight of the upcoming day lingering in the air. But there was a hint of excitement brewing in your mind once you were reminded of your neighbours, and perhaps it’ll distract you from your usual thoughts. 
Meanwhile, Lando dashed around his room, wearing only a pair of pants, his movements quick and purposeful as he rummaged through his suitcase, searching for the perfect shirt for the day ahead. He glanced at the clock on the bedside table, his brow furrowing in frustration as he realized how quickly time was slipping away.
"Max, are you almost ready?" he called out, his voice tinged with urgency.
From the living room, Max's relaxed voice drifted back. "Yeah, just taking my time. No rush, right?"
Lando rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath as he continued his frantic search for the right outfit. He held up a full sleeved sweatshirt against himself, judging the shirt in the mirror.
“No, too hot,” he muttered to himself and tossed the garment aside. He continued shuffling through the suitcase, not having the time to unpack completely. 
Then he held up a simpler t-shirt, considering it for a moment before shaking his head. “Too casual,” he mumbled, discarding it onto the growing pile of rejected clothes. 
With a sense of growing frustration, Lando finally spotted a light, airy button-down shirt that seemed suitable for the warm weather. He quickly slipped it on, feeling a sense of relief wash over him as the fabric settled comfortably against his skin. 
Satisfied with his choice, Lando turns his attention to his hair, running his fingers through his unruly curls in an attempt to tame them into some semblance of order. After a few futile attempts, he huffed and searched around for his beloved bucket hat, placing it on his head to prevent putting more effort into his hair. 
Glancing at himself in the mirror, he straightened his shirt and adjusted his hat. As a final touch, Lando grabbed his sunglasses and hastily shoved them in his pocket, then grabbed his phone and wallet before heading out of the room. 
As he entered the living room, Lando found Max lounging on the couch, seemingly unperturbed by the passing time. "C'mon, mate, we're gonna be late because of you," Lando chided, his tone laced with exasperation.
Max shrugged nonchalantly, a lazy grin playing across his lips. "She didn't give you a time."
Lando resisted the urge to roll his eyes, his frustration mounting with each passing second. "I know, but she's taking time out of her day to show us around. We need to be respectful."
Max chuckled, propping himself up on one elbow as he regarded Lando with amusement. "You asked her to show us around, you didn't need to."
Lando sighed, his patience wearing thin. "She's a local, Max. It's important to make a good impression."
Max's grin widened, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Is that all what she is?"
Soon enough, Max decided to spare his best friend from further frustration and went upstairs to get dressed. 
While he did so, Lando thought about Max’s question, which he left unanswered. You were a mere stranger, yet after meeting you yesterday, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. 
Lando instantly sat up after a moment, looking around the room and spotting his digital camera sitting on the table nearby. He picked it up by the straps of the bag, wanting to take as many photos of the events of today as he could. 
The sound of footsteps echoed from upstairs, and soon Max reappeared, clad in a fresh set of clothes. He flashed a grin before taking his phone back from Lando. 
“Finally ready?” Lando teased, looking up at him. 
Max rolled his eyes, “yes.” He ran a hand through his tousled hair before asking, “what’s the plan for today?” 
Lando shrugged, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, “that’s for our lovely tour guide to decide.” 
With a nod of agreement, Lando walked beside Max as they left the villa together. 
Their footsteps crunched echoed softly against the cobblestone path. The afternoon sun cast a golden hue over the landscape, illuminating the streets as it was at the highest peak. As they made their way down the path, they spotted you stepping out of the cottage, a faint smile on your face as you headed towards them. 
“Hey, look who’s here,” Max remarked, nudging Lando with his elbow. 
Lando grinned in return, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you. “Hi,” he muttered as you stood in front of him. 
You were quickly introduced to Max, and exchanged greetings before leading the way down the street. 
“So, where are we off to today?” Max asked, his gaze looking around before returning back to you. 
“Well, I thought we could start with a stroll through the town square,” you suggested, gesturing towards the many narrow streets. “Then, I’ll show you around a couple historic spots?” You asked, pausing and looking at them for a reaction. 
Lando nodded in agreement, “sounds like a plan, lead the way, tour guide.” 
With a playful grin, you set off towards the heart of the town, Lando and Max falling into step beside you. 
As you lead Lando and Max through the winding streets of the town, each building you pass enveloped you in a sense of nostalgia. Each cobblestone path seemed to hold a story, whispered through the intricate architecture and vibrant colours of houses. 
“You see that old bookstore over there?” you pointed, a smile playing on your lips. “It’s been here for generations, and they have the most fascinating collection of rare books.” 
Lando’s eyes sparkled with intrigue as he glanced at the bookstore. “I’ll have to check it out then,” he stated. 
“Avid reader?” You asked, walking side by side. 
He shook his head, “not at all, but there has to be something fascinating if you like it.” 
You chuckled at his response, focusing your gaze ahead as you felt your cheeks redden. “Well, I worked there as a teen, and from my experience, it’s always worth exploring.” 
Lando nodded in agreement, his gaze lingering on the bookstore as you passed by it. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 
Max fell a couple of steps behind as he watched the interaction between you and Lando. Then he quickly caught up to his best friend, nudging him gently to gain his attention. “You know I’m here too, right?” 
Lando rolled his eyes, “yeah, yeah, I know.” 
As you led the way through the bustling crowd, Lando and Max trailed behind you, keeping close to ensure they didn’t lose sight of you amidst the throng of people. Along the winding streets, you were greeted by familiar faces, the locals calling out your name and exchanging warm greetings as you passed by. 
Lando eagerly captured every picturesque moment with his camera. Occasionally, he would lower the camera to observe you as you engaged in conversations with strangers, raising the camera to his eye once more to capture candid moments of your interactions with them.
Amidst the lively atmosphere, you pointed out hidden gems nestled in the nooks and crannies of the town. From cozy art galleries adorned with vibrant paintings to antique shops filled with treasures of bygone eras, each discovery added to the tapestry of the town’s charm. 
With each step, you shared tidbits of local history and anecdotes, painting a vivid picture of life in the town. Lando and Max listened attentively, their eyes alight with curiosity as they soaked in the sights and sounds of the vibrant community. 
Walking down the narrow streets, you pointed out the historic clock tower and the old, abandoned church beside it. You mentioned that it was the oldest structure in town and pushed open the wooden doors.
Max looked around, intrigued. The interior had a musty scent mixed with faint incense, and sunlight streamed through stained glass, casting colorful patterns. He admired the architecture, understanding why it was cherished.
As you explored, you shared the tower’s history, noting its construction by skilled craftsmen from distant towns. The vaulted ceilings and stone pillars added to the sense of reverence. You paused, letting Max and Lando roam.
They were captivated by the church’s history and beauty, momentarily forgetting the outside world. Emerging into the sunlight, they exchanged awed glances, touched by the experience. It was a moment they would remember.
“So, what’s next on the agenda?” Lando asked, glancing down at his camera and scrolling through the photos before looking up at you. 
You grinned, “well there’s a garden not too far from here. It’s the perfect place to unwind and enjoy the beauty of nature.” 
Max’s eyes lit up with excitement, “yes, please, that sounds amazing.” 
With a laugh, you led them along winding pathways lined with vibrant blooms leading towards the tranquil garden. 
Max let out a contented sigh, “this place is amazing.” 
You smiled, gesturing towards a cluster of vibrant flowers. “There’s something magical about it.” 
Lando nodded in agreement, his eyes scanning the picturesque surroundings. “Definitely worth the visit,” he remarked, raising his camera to capture the beauty around him. 
The tranquility of the garden seemed to envelop you, wrapping you in a sense of peace and serenity. Tall trees cast dappled shadows across the well-tended lawns, providing relief from the midday sun. The air was alive with the melodious chirping of birds and the occasional buzz of bees flitting from blossom to blossom. 
The garden was a lush oasis, meticulously landscaped with winding pathways that meandered among vibrant flower beds and verdant shrubbery. 
Max glanced at the pond, where a family of ducks paddled lazily. "Hey, check out those ducks," he exclaimed, pointing towards the water. "They look so peaceful."
You chuckled, nodding towards a nearby bench. "Let's take a seat and enjoy the view," you suggested.
As you sat on the stone bench, a sense of calm washed over you, the gentle rustle of leaves and the distant chirping of birds creating a soothing melody. Max and Lando joined you, their expressions reflecting a similar sense of contentment.
Water lilies floated gracefully on top of the clear waters, their delicate blooms adding a touch of elegance to the scene. 
"This is nice," Max remarked, leaning back against the bench. "Thanks for bringing us here."
Lando nodded, his gaze drifting across the garden. "Yeah, it's a hidden gem," he agreed. "I never would've found it on my own."
You smiled, feeling a sense of satisfaction at sharing this special place with your neighbours. "I'm glad you both like it," you said warmly. "There's so much beauty to discover in this town if you know where to look."
As Lando admired the blooming flowers around him, his eyes settled on a particularly vibrant flower. With a grin, he plucked it from its stem, carefully holding it between his fingers.
"Hey, can I?" he asked, gesturing towards your hair with a playful twinkle in his eye.
You chuckled, nodding in amusement. "Sure, go ahead," you replied, tilting your head slightly to give him better access.
Lando leaned towards you with a grin, gently tucking the flower behind your ear. His touch was surprisingly gentle, his fingers brushing against your skin as he adjusted the placement of the bloom.
"There," he said with satisfaction, leaning back to admire his handiwork. "Looks perfect."
You couldn't help but smile at the gesture, feeling a warmth spread through you at the simple yet thoughtful gesture. "Thank you," you said softly, meeting Lando's gaze with appreciation.
You picked out another flower, holding it in front of him with a small smile. “My turn?” 
Lando chuckled, leaning forward and allowing you to place the flower behind his ear. His gaze remained steady on your face, watching as you stuck the tip of your tongue out between your lips in concentration. 
Leaning back, you looked at him with a smile. “There, now we match.” 
“I see how it is,” Max grumbled from beside you, earning a chuckle from you and Lando. 
Simultaneously, you and Lando picked out a couple of flowers, and placed them in his hair, his curls holding it steady. 
“Cute,” you commented once you completed the masterpiece with the last flower. Max laughed as he looked at himself in his phone camera, snapping a selfie for memories before telling you and Lando to join. 
Your face was squished between Lando and Max’s faces, both men displaying a cheesy grin for the photo, making you join in as well. 
As the gentle breeze ruffled through the garden, Lando turned towards you with a curious glint in his eyes. “Are there any other magical places you want to show us?” 
You pondered for a moment, considering the myriad of hidden gems scattered throughout the town. “Well, there’s one more spot I have in mind,” you replied, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. 
Max perked up at the mention of another adventure, his eyes lighting up with excitement. “I’m in, lead the way.” 
With a nod, you rose from the bench, the flower in your hair swaying gently with the movement. “Let’s go,” you said, gesturing for Max and Lando to join you as you embarked on the next part of your journey. 
As you led Max and Lando out of the garden, the thought of another special place lingered in your mind. The lighthouse, with its storied history and breathtaking views, beckoned to you like a beacon in the distance. 
Lost in thought, you considered whether to reveal this cherished spot to your neighbours. The lighthouse held a special significance for you, a place of solace and reflection that you rarely shared with others. But something about Max and Lando’s genuine curiosity and enthusiasm stirred something within you, prompting you to entertain the idea of introducing them to this hidden gem. 
With a flicker of determination, you made up your mind. The lighthouse would be the perfect finale to your tour, a fitting conclusion to a day filled with discovery and adventure. 
As you neared the lighthouse, it stood tall against the sky, looking sturdy and ancient. Lando seemed really excited, his eyes wide as he took it all in. Max looked a bit unsure, especially when he saw the stairs leading up. 
“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” you said softly once you saw Lando’s expression, feeling a sense of awe yourself. 
He nodded eagerly, clearly impressed. “Yeah, it’s really cool,” he said, his voice filled with excitement. 
“Are we going up there?” Max asked, a hint of apprehension creeping into his voice as he surveyed the towering structure. 
You nodded, a sense of reverence washing over you as you gazed up at the weathered bricks and the solitary lateen perched at the top of the lighthouse. “Yes, it’s probably my favourite spot in this entire town.” 
But Max seemed hesitant, eyeing the stairs with doubt. “I’m not too sure about this,” he admitted quietly. 
You understood his feelings and wanted to reassure him. “That’s okay, Max,” you said gently, putting a hand on his shoulder. “We don’t have to climb all the way up if you don’t want to. We can still explore around here.” 
Max glanced at Lando, “actually you know what? you guys should go up.” Max said suddenly, giving you a nod, “I’ll stay down here.” 
You frowned, “are you sure? I can show you around elsewhere.” 
But Max shook his head, “yeah, I’m sure. I know Lando really wants to check it out and I don’t wanna hold you guys back.” 
“You’re gonna miss out, mate, just c’mon it’s a couple stairs,” Lando tried to convince his best friend. 
He shook his head, “a couple? Looks like a lot, no, I’m good.” 
With a final nod of reassurance, you and Lando headed towards the first couple of stairs, leaving Max behind. As you began the trek upwards, your comment from earlier intrigued Lando. “Why is this your favourite spot?” 
“People don’t come here often, perhaps it’s because of the story behind it,” you replied, your words tinged with a hint of mystery. 
“What, is it haunted or something?” He asked, a skeptical look crossing his face. 
You shook your head, a wistful smile playing on your lips. “Legend says that this lighthouse is haunted, but I believe it’s just a tragic love story,” you explained. 
“A love story? Do tell,” Lando urged, his curiosity piqued. 
“It was decades ago, the story passed on from neighbour to neighbour, so I’m not exactly sure which parts are true,” you forewarned. 
Lando smiled, “and you’re passing it on to your neighbour.” 
You glanced back at him, pausing for a moment so he could catch up, standing on the same step as you, just a tad bit taller. You didn’t realize how narrow the staircase was until he was standing beside you, since you’ve only ever come here alone. 
The air was heavy with the scent of salt and sea, and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore echoed faintly in the distance. Lando's eyes scanned your face, patiently waiting to hear the story. 
You cleared your throat, looking away from him. "You see, there was once a young couple who sought refuge in this lighthouse," you began, your voice tinged with a hint of melancholy, recounting an old tale. "They were not from noble families or romance novels, but rather ordinary people with ordinary lives."
Lando leaned in closer, his curiosity piqued by the hint of mystery in your voice, causing you to shift on your feet but still remaining in the same spot, almost pressed against the wall beside you. 
"The young man was a fisherman, his days spent toiling away on the sea, his hands calloused from years of hard work," you continued, your words painting a picture of a life marked by struggle and perseverance. "And the young woman was a seamstress, her fingers nimble with the needle and thread, her dreams tempered by the harsh realities of life."
Lando's gaze softened with empathy as he imagined the challenges faced by the young couple. 
"But despite the hardships they endured, their love burned fiercely, a flame that refused to be extinguished by the storms of life," you said, your voice tinged with admiration for the resilience of the human spirit. "They would steal moments together in the quiet solitude of the lighthouse, finding solace in each other's arms amidst the chaos of the world."
Lando's heart swelled with warmth at the thought of such a simple yet profound love. You cleared your throat once you saw a hint of his smile, turning away and continuing your trek up the stairs while continuing the story. 
"But their happiness was fleeting, as life has a way of testing even the strongest of bonds," you continued, your voice growing somber as you recounted the challenges faced by the young couple. "Their days were filled with hardship and uncertainty, their dreams overshadowed by the harsh realities of poverty."
Lando followed after you, his breath caught in his throat as he listened, his heart heavy with the weight of the young couple's struggles. 
"And so, when tragedy struck and the young man was lost at sea, the young woman was left alone to face the cruel hand of fate," you whispered, your voice barely audible above the sound of the wind howling through the lighthouse. "Her grief was a burden too heavy to bear, her tears a testament to the depth of her sorrow."
Tears welled in Lando's eyes as he imagined the young woman's pain. 
"And though the years passed and the world moved on, the lighthouse remained standing as a silent witness to the love that once flourished within its walls," you concluded, your voice tinged with a sense of reverence for the enduring legacy of the young couple. "Their spirits may have faded into the mists of time, but their love lives on in the whispers of the wind and the crashing of the waves, a reminder that even in the darkest of nights, love can be a guiding light."
Lando remained silent, his heart heavy with the weight of the young couple's story, as he pondered the fragile nature of love and the enduring power of human resilience in the face of adversity.
“You’re not making this up, are you?” He asked, just to be sure, but once he didn’t see you burst out laughing, he knew the answer. 
"Legend has it that their spirits linger within these walls, bound by an eternal love that transcends the confines of time," you explained. "They say the light still flickers on stormy nights, a beacon of hope in the darkness, as if she's searching for her lost love amidst the crashing waves."
As you and Lando continued climbing the spiral staircase, the wooden steps creaked beneath your feet, each groan echoing through the hollow chamber like a whispered secret. The air grew cooler as you ascended, a faint scent of salt lingering in the air, a reminder of the vast expanse of ocean that stretched out beyond the horizon.
With each step, the world outside faded away, replaced by the soft glow of sunlight filtering through the narrow windows, casting intricate patterns of light and shadow on the worn stone walls. Lando's footsteps fell in sync with yours, his presence a comforting anchor in the midst of the swirling emotions that stirred within you.
As you reach the top of the lighthouse, a sense of awe washed over you, the panoramic view of the coastline stretching out before you like a painting come to life. The sea stretched out endlessly, its surface shimmering in the sunlight, while seagulls soared overhead, their cries mingling with the distant roar of the waves. It’s a sight you’ve seen many times, but every time still feels like the first. 
Lando stood beside you, his gaze fixed on the horizon, his expression a mixture of wonder and awe. For a moment, the two of you stood in silence, the weight of the young couple's story hanging heavy in the air, a reminder of the fragile nature of love and the enduring power of human resilience.
As the light of the setting sun bathed the world in a warm golden glow, you couldn't help but feel a sense of peace wash over you, a quiet acceptance of the mysteries that lay hidden within the depths of the human heart.
With a soft sigh, you turned to Lando, a small smile playing on your lips. "Isn't it beautiful?" you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.
Lando nodded, his eyes shining with a newfound appreciation for the simple beauty of the world around him. "It's breathtaking," he agreed, his voice tinged with emotion.
As the sun dipped lower on the horizon, casting vibrant hues of orange and pink across the sky, you couldn't help but lose yourself in the breathtaking beauty of the sunset. The world seemed to slow down, the cares and worries of the day fading away as you stood transfixed by the natural spectacle unfolding before you.
But as the sky darkened and the first stars began to twinkle overhead, a pang of realization cut through the tranquil moment. It was almost nighttime, which meant it was time for your pills. You glanced at your watch, a flicker of anxiety fluttering in your chest as you calculated the minutes ticking away.
For a brief moment, you considered the consequences of being late in taking your medication. The regimen was strict, the consequences dire if you missed a dose. But as you looked at Lando standing beside you, gazing at you,  his eyes reflecting the colors of the setting sun, a different thought crossed your mind.
Maybe, just this once, it was worth it to be a little late. Maybe, in this moment of shared beauty and connection, the rules could be bent just enough to allow you to savor the fleeting magic of the evening.
With a soft smile, you tucked the thought away, allowing yourself to linger a little while longer in the warm embrace of the sunset. 
“Stay like that,” Lando instructed with a pointed finger at you. 
“Like what?” You mumbled. 
“Don’t move a muscle,” he hastily replied, holding the straps of the camera that was hung around his neck, quickly turning it on and pointing at you. 
“You look beautiful in this light,” He stated, slightly gesturing to his camera before raising it. 
A tint of blush covered your cheeks but you didn’t prevent him from taking a photo of you. 
Remaining still, you heard the shutter click, once, twice, and even a third time before he was satisfied with the result. 
“What are you going to do with those photos?” You ask, remembering that he’s taken quite a lot of them today, of all the different sceneries. 
“Put 'em in an album, you know, for memories, and I can’t forget my favourite tour guide,” he said with a cheeky grin. 
“Favourite? That’s quite a title for only the first day,” you teased with a smile, leaning against the railing, choosing to look at Lando instead of the setting sun. 
“You know how to make a good impression, it’s hard not to call you my favourite.” 
You chuckled softly, feeling a warmth spread through you at his words. "Well, I'm glad I could leave a good impression," you replied, a hint of playfulness in your tone.
Lando grinned, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "You've done more than that," he said, his voice softening. "You've shown us a side of this town that we never would've discovered on our own."
You felt a swell of pride at his words, grateful for the opportunity to share your hometown with new friends. "I'm just happy I could show you around," you said sincerely.
As the last rays of sunlight faded into darkness, you reluctantly tore your gaze away from Lando's, the moment of connection lingering in the air between you. "I suppose we should head back now," you said, a hint of regret coloring your voice.
Lando hesitated but nodded in agreement, “can’t keep Max waiting this long.” 
But before you could move, he reached out and gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "Thank you, for everything," he said softly, his eyes searching yours.
You felt your heart skip a beat at his touch, a rush of warmth flooding through you at the intimate gesture. "You're welcome," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.
With a lingering smile, Lando turned and started back towards the path, leaving you standing alone on the balcony, your thoughts swirling with a heady mix of emotions. Shaking your head to rid yourself of those thoughts, you followed him down the steps. 
“Mate, it’s good that you didn’t come, she said it’s haunted.” You heard Lando’s voice, speaking to Max. 
When you came into his view, Max looked at you with widened eyes, “haunted?” 
You shrugged, looking at Lando, “it’ll make for a good bedtime story, don’t you think?” 
Max started shaking his head, but Lando nodded, “I’ll be sure to tell him right before he gets a good night’s sleep.” 
On the way back home, Lando had been so impressed by your touring skills that he had already started asking about your plans for the next day. With no responsibilities on your schedule, the three of you decided to go hiking on a nearby trail.
As you reached your cottage, the familiar sense of fatigue washed over you, dulling the edges of your excitement from the day’s activities. With a wave and a promise to meet again tomorrow for more adventures, you bid farewell to Lando and Max, watching as they walked off to the villa. 
Once they were out of sight, you allowed your smile to fade, the weight of the day settling heavily on your shoulders. The ache in your joints intensified, a reminder of the illness that lurked beneath the surface, threatening to consume you if you let your guard down. 
Stepping inside the cottage, you were surprised to find Isaac waiting for you in the dimly lit living room. His expression was a mix of concern and mild frustration as he looked up from his book.
"You didn’t take your nightly pills on time," he said, his voice gentle but firm. "You know you can’t skip it."
You sighed, the heaviness in your chest feeling almost unbearable. "Isaac, stop acting like our mother," you mumbled, moving past him to the kitchen.
Isaac followed you, not willing to let it go. "I’m serious. You’ve had a long day, and you need to take care of yourself. I don’t want you to overdo it."
Grabbing the bottle of medication from the counter, you turned to face him, irritation mingling with the fatigue in your eyes. "I know, okay? I just wanted one evening where I didn’t have to think about it. Just one."
He watched you with a mix of empathy and helplessness, understanding your need for normalcy but unable to ignore the reality of your condition. "I get it, I really do. But skipping your meds isn’t the way to do it."
With a heavy sigh, you filled a glass with water and downed the pills, the bitter taste lingering on your tongue. "Happy now?" you muttered, setting the empty glass down.
Isaac's expression softened, a flicker of guilt crossing his features. "I’m just worried about you," he said quietly.
You nodded, the weight of his concern settling heavily on your shoulders. "I know. I appreciate it, really. It’s just… sometimes it’s hard to keep going like this."
He reached out and squeezed your shoulder gently. "We’ll get through it, together. Just promise me you’ll take it easy tomorrow, okay?"
A faint smile tugged at your lips as you nodded. "Go get some sleep. You’ve been waiting up for me."
Isaac gave you a small, reassuring smile before heading to his room. As you settled into bed, the weight of exhaustion dragging at your limbs, you couldn’t help but wonder how many more days like this lay ahead. The uncertainty of the future loomed large in your mind, casting a shadow over even the simplest moments of joy.
As you drifted off to sleep, your thoughts lingered on Lando and Max. Their arrival felt like a breath of fresh air, a chance to momentarily forget about your illness and embrace a semblance of normalcy. They didn’t know about your condition, which meant they wouldn't look at you with pity or treat you like a fragile doll. Their presence offered a respite from the constant reminders of your limitations, an opportunity to live in the moment and savor each day as it came.
For so long, your life had been governed by routines and restrictions, every decision weighed against the backdrop of your illness. But with Lando and Max, you felt a sense of freedom, an invitation to break away from the chains that bound you. They saw you not as someone fragile, but as a capable guide and a new friend. You wanted to hold onto that feeling, to let their presence remind you of who you were beyond the confines of your diagnosis.
Their energy and zest for life felt like a tonic; lifting your spirits and reigniting your desire to experience the world beyond your illness. With them, you could laugh freely, explore without fear, and simply be yourself without constantly worrying. Yet, there was a lingering guilt that gnawed at you, a silent whisper that you were using them, exploiting their company to escape your reality. 
Despite the joy they brought, this guilt cast a shadow over your newfound happiness. You didn’t want to deceive them or yourself, but the allure of living fully and freely, even for a short while, was too tempting to resist. You resolved to make the most of their visit, using their company as an excuse to live as vibrant as you once did. 
The next morning, you moved with practiced stealth, careful not to make a sound as you gathered your hiking gear. The house was still and quiet, the early hour providing a perfect cover for your escape. You knew your brother would disapprove of your plans to go hiking with Lando, so you hoped to slip out before he noticed.
Just as you reached the front door, the sound of footsteps halted your progress. Turning, you saw Isaac standing there, a backpack slung over his shoulder, clearly ready to head out himself. His eyes narrowed as he took in your gear.
“And where do you think you’re going?” Isaac’s voice was tight with concern.
You sighed, knowing this confrontation was inevitable. “I’m going hiking with Lando. It’s just a short trail, nothing too strenuous.”
Isaac’s expression darkened. “Didn’t I tell you to take it easy? When are you going to take care of yourself?”
“What more do you want me to do?” you snapped, your frustration bubbling over. “Should I wrap myself up in bubble wrap and stay in bed until I inevitably die?”
“Don’t say that,” Isaac’s voice wavered, his concern morphing into something deeper and more painful.
“I have to!” you shouted, the dam of pent-up emotions finally breaking. “I have to acknowledge it, to you, to our parents, because while you guys are doing everything in your power to ignore it, it’s still gonna happen whether you like it or not.”
He took a step back, his face pale. “I just want you to be safe.”
“I’m going to die anyways,” you continued, your voice trembling with the weight of your confession. “Whether it’s tomorrow or a couple of weeks later, I’ve accepted that by now. You know why? Because even if I’m alive right now, I’m treated like a fucking corpse. I cannot do a single thing without our mother’s voice in my mind. ‘Oh, don’t stand for too long, don’t walk for too long, take your meds, don’t let your heartbeat speed up, don’t eat this, don’t eat that.’ It’s fucking tiring. Forget her, I can’t even be an older sister anymore for you. For god’s sake, you make breakfast, lunch, and dinner for us. You’re acting as if I can’t lift a single spoon.”
Isaac’s eyes were filled with tears now, but you couldn’t stop. The words poured out, each one a release of years of pent-up frustration and pain. “The entire town knows, Isaac. Any time I go out, I see the pity in their eyes. You know who doesn’t know? Lando and Max. And I have no plans on telling them because they actually treat me like a healthy human, something you guys won’t ever do again.”
You didn’t wait for his response, not allowing him to speak. You walked out the door, letting it close behind you with a finality that echoed your determination. 
When you reached, Lando was already waiting for you by the trailhead, leaning casually against a tree with his backpack at his feet. He waved when he saw you approaching, his smile faltering slightly as he noticed the tension in your posture and the slight frown on your face.
"Hey, there you are!" he called out, his voice bright. "I was starting to think you'd changed your mind."
"Sorry, I'm a bit late," you replied, forcing a smile.
Lando's brow furrowed with concern. "Everything okay?"
You waved it off, not wanting to delve into the argument with Isaac. "Yeah, just had a rough morning. Let's get going, shall we?"
He nodded, still seeming a bit unsure. "Alright, if you say so." He hoisted his backpack over his shoulder and fell into step beside you as you started down the trail.
“Max isn’t joining us today?” you asked as you started the hike.
Lando shrugged playfully. “Nah, he’s not really the hiking type.”
In truth, Lando thought back to the moment he convinced Max to do something else. He had wanted this time alone with you, to get to know you better without any distractions. The way your face lit up when you talked about your favorite places made him want to see more of that joy.
You laughed, shaking your head. "Yeah, he doesn't seem like the outdoorsy type. I guess we'll have to find something else to drag him into."
As you continued along the path, Lando’s closeness became even more evident. He would occasionally place his hand on your back to guide you over rough terrain or hold your hand to help you across a stream. Each touch was gentle yet charged with an energy that made your heart race.
The path wound through a dense forest, dappled sunlight filtering through the canopy above. The air was fresh, filled with the scent of pine and the sound of birds chirping. As you walked, the tension from your argument with Isaac began to ease, the peaceful surroundings and Lando's infectious enthusiasm slowly lifting your spirits.
"Maybe we can convince him to join us on a beach day or something," Lando said, his thoughts lingering on how much he enjoyed these moments alone with you. "But honestly, I'm kinda glad it's just the two of us today. More time to get to know my favorite tour guide."
You felt a flutter in your chest at his words, the compliment warming you from the inside. “Still your favorite tour guide, huh?”
He shrugged playfully. "The competition is tough, but you’re always coming out on top. Besides, I figured I needed some one-on-one time to really experience what this town has to offer."
As the trail began to climb, you focused on your breathing, matching your pace to Lando's. The conversation drifted to lighter topics, and you found yourself relaxing more with each step. The forest opened up to a meadow filled with wildflowers, the colors vivid and bright under the morning sun.
Lando knelt down to take a photo of a particularly vibrant patch of flowers. "This place is incredible. How do you know all these hidden spots?"
"I've lived here my whole life," you said, watching him as he adjusted the focus on his camera. "Spent a lot of time exploring."
"Must be nice," he said, standing up and looking around. "Having all this beauty right in your backyard."
"Yeah, it is," you replied, though your thoughts drifted back to the times you wanted to leave this place. "Sometimes you take it for granted until you share it with someone else."
Eventually, you reached a lookout point with a breathtaking view of the coastline along with the lighthouse you explored yesterday. The ocean stretched out endlessly, waves glittering in the sunlight. Lando pulled out his camera again, capturing the scene and a few candid shots of you taking in the view.
"This is amazing," he said, his voice filled with awe. "Thanks for bringing me here."
You smiled, feeling a sense of accomplishment mixed with a pang of guilt. Lando didn’t know the real reason behind your determination to hike today, nor the weight you were trying to escape. 
"You're welcome," you replied. "I'm glad you're here to share it with me."
As you stood there, side by side with Lando, your words said to Isaac still lingered in the back of your mind, wondering if you'd said the wrong thing. You knew that you had to take a stand for yourself, otherwise you’d be pressured into regret, but he’s also your brother and he’s always wanted the best for you. You pushed those thoughts down, determined to make the most of this day as if it was your last. 
With Lando's enthusiasm and the beauty of the surroundings, you found it easier to forget, even if just for a little while, the shadow that always loomed over you.
"So, what's next on our adventure?" Lando asked, breaking the silence.
You laughed softly. "Let's just see where the trail takes us."
Once Lando was satisfied with the amount of photos he took, you began to descend the trail from the lookout point. The path became steeper causing you to walk carefully, trying to focus on your footing. 
The trail wound through another section of dense forest with the ground covered in a thick layer of fallen leaves. You and Lando continued to chat, touching upon all sorts of topics. 
Just as you were starting to relax, your foot caught on a hidden root and you found yourself losing balance. Panic surged through you as your ankle twisted painfully. Before you could hit the ground, Lando was there, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you upright. His grip was strong and steady, and you clung to him for a moment, trying to catch your breath and process the sudden burst of pain. 
“Whoa, are you okay?” Lando asked, concern etched on his face as he steadied you. 
You winced, trying to put weight on your ankle and finding it difficult. “I think I twisted my ankle.” 
Lando’s brows furrowed with worry. “Let’s sit down for a minute. Here, lean on me.” 
He guided you to a nearby rock, helping you sit down gently. He knelt in front of you, examining your ankle with a careful touch. “Does it hurt a lot?” 
You nodded, biting your lip to keep from crying out. “Yeah, it does.”
Lando looked around, his face serious. “I think we should head back. I don’t want you to make it worse.”
You sighed, feeling a wave of frustration mixed with embarrassment. “I’m sorry, Lando. I didn’t mean to ruin our hike.”
He shook his head, his expression softening. “Hey, don’t worry about it. Your safety is more important than the hike. Besides, we can always come back another time.”
He helped you stand, supporting your weight as you gingerly tested your injured ankle. With his arm around your waist, you felt a mixture of gratitude and awkwardness, acutely aware of his closeness and the concern in his eyes.
As you slowly made your way back down the trail, Lando stayed close, his grip on you firm but gentle. His presence was comforting, and despite the pain, you felt a sense of connection with him that was hard to ignore.
Back at the trailhead, Lando leads you towards his car, surprising you. “When did you get a car?” 
“Figured I’d rent one while I’m here, just so we don’t have to walk everywhere,” Lando shrugged as he explained. 
He helped you into his car, making sure you were comfortable before getting in himself. He started the car, casting quick glances at you to ensure you were alright. The engine’s hum was a soothing background noise as he navigated the road back to town. 
“You know,” he began, trying to lighten the mood, “I think this might be the first hike I’ve been on where we didn’t make it to the top.”
You chuckled softly, appreciating his effort to keep things light. “There’s a first for everything, I guess.”
He smiled, eyes focused on the road. “Yeah, and now we have an excuse to do it again. When you’re feeling better, of course.”
You leaned back, the pain in your ankle dulling slightly with the rest. “I appreciate that, Lando. And I promise, next time, no hidden roots.”
He laughed, a genuine sound that made you feel a bit better about the whole situation. “Deal.”
As you pulled into the town, Lando’s concern was still evident. “Do you want to go straight to the clinic, or should we stop by your place first?”
“Home is fine,” you replied. “I’ll just need some ice and rest.”
Lando nodded, driving directly to your house. He parked and quickly came around to help you out. With his support, you hobbled across the driveway to the front door, quickly finding your keys and entering. 
Inside, you settled on the couch while Lando fetched some ice from the kitchen with your directions. He elevated your foot, resting it on a cushion before gently placing the ice pack on your ankle. “Keep this on for a while,” he instructed, earning a chuckle from you. 
“Okay, Doctor Lando.” You winced slightly at the cold but knew it was necessary. “Thank you,” you muttered softly as he joined you on the couch. 
“Hey, what are friends for?” He shot back.
You raised your eyebrows. “When did we become friends?” you asked teasingly. 
Without a beat, he responded, “from the moment you told me I got scammed.” 
You shook your head with a smile on your face. His genuine care and the connection you felt during the hike was undeniable. Despite the pain and the day’s mishap, you still enjoyed it all. 
As you both sat there, the sun beginning to set outside, you felt a strange sense of peace. Maybe you couldn’t control everything about your condition, but you could control how you spent your time. Right now, with Lando by your side, you felt like you were making the most of it. 
“How about we watch a movie?” Lando suggested, breaking the comfortable silence. “Something to take your mind off things.” 
“That sounds perfect,” you agreed. 
As the movie started, you felt the tension of the day begin to fade, replaced by a warm sense of contentment. As the soft glow of the television cast a warm light across the room, you heard the front door creak open. You tensed slightly, knowing it was Isaac. The memory of your heated argument from earlier that morning returned to your mind like it was fresh, and you weren’t sure how he would react to finding Lando here. 
Isaac stepped into the living room, his eyes flicking between you and Lando, and then down to your ankle propped up with an ice pack. His brows furrowed in surprise, and his look spoke volumes — a silent “I told you so” about taking it too far.
“Hey,” Isaac said, his tone carefully neutral as he addressed Lando. “What’s going on here?”
“Hey,” Lando responded, sensing the tension but keeping his tone friendly. “We went hiking, and she twisted her ankle.”
Isaac’s eyes narrowed slightly, a mix of concern and frustration flashing across his face. “I see.”
You shifted uncomfortably, feeling the need to explain but also not wanting to escalate the situation. “It’s just a sprain, Isaac. Lando’s been helping me out.”
Isaac nodded curtly, his gaze softening slightly but still clearly worried. “Thanks, mate,” he addressed Lando. 
He started towards the kitchen, clearly not wanting to prolong the conversation but not ignoring your presence either.
You watched him go, feeling a mix of relief and lingering tension. The argument had left a mark, but you could see that he was making an effort to understand your perspective, even if he wasn’t ready to talk about it.
Lando glanced at you, sensing the undercurrent of emotion. “You and your brother… everything okay?”
You sighed softly, not wanting to burden him with the details. “We had a disagreement earlier. It’s complicated.”
He nodded, not pushing further but offering a supportive presence. “Well, I’m here if you need anything.”
Isaac reappeared a few minutes later with a glass of water, which he handed to you without a word. You took it with a grateful smile. “Thanks.”
He simply nodded again and headed to his room, leaving you and Lando alone in the living room. Despite the brief interaction, you felt a subtle shift in Isaac’s demeanor. He was trying, in his own way, to respect your wishes and not overdo his concern for your illness.
As the movie continued, you found yourself relaxing again, the earlier tension easing away. Lando’s easygoing nature and the quiet understanding from your brother provided a much-needed sense of balance.
The minutes ticked by, and you found yourself growing more comfortable and drowsy, especially with Lando’s warm presence beside you. Earlier, you had mentioned feeling cold, due to the ice, and he had fetched a blanket, draping it over both of you. As you nestled into the couch, the combination of the movie’s soft soundtrack and Lando’s steady breathing lulled you into a peaceful sleep.
Lando noticed when your head gently rested against his shoulder, your breathing deep and even. He smiled softly, careful not to move and disturb you. As the credits began to roll, he glanced at his watch and realized it was getting late. Reluctantly, he decided it was time to leave.
He gently shifted, trying to move without waking you. Before he got up, he couldn’t resist the urge to lean in and press a tender kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for just a moment. It was an instinctive gesture, filled with affection that he hadn’t fully acknowledged until now.
Carefully, he adjusted the blanket to ensure you were snug and warm. He stood up quietly, casting one last fond look at you before making his way to the door. Lando left silently, closing the door with a soft click, leaving you to your dreams.
An hour later, Isaac retreated from his bedroom, finding you fast asleep on the couch. Instead of waking you, he went to the kitchen and fetched your evening medicine and a glass of water. Returning to the living room, he placed them gently on the table beside the couch, ensuring they’d be the first things you saw when you woke up.
Isaac stood there for a moment, watching you sleep peacefully. Despite the argument earlier, he understood your desire to live fully, even if it scared him. With a sigh, he retreated back to his room, hoping that you’d find a balance between living your life and taking care of yourself. The quiet house seemed to settle around your sleeping form, a brief moment of peace amidst the whirlwind of emotions and challenges.
Taglist: @lochnoch @llando4norris @monsieurbacteria6 @namgification @lilymurphy03 @sargeantdumbass @hiireadstuff @racingheartsposts @d3kstar @xjval @namjoonswaifu @isabellewinchester @thedecalcomania-blog @casperlikej @khaylin27 @mlioravanfleet @mehrmonga @nikfigueiredo @wonnou @jointhehunt67 @sya-skies @dreamingonbed @oliviah-25 @heylookwhoitis @unabashedkoalawasteland @inejghafawifesblog @poppyflower-22 @charizznorizz @booksandflowrs @f1ln4dr3cl16mv33 @randomnessis-mine-me @whatever7justchillin @kagome45 @doofenshmirtzevil-inc @timmy-wife1 @writtenbykirs @lew444 @kansas-kisses @barackosteaa @hellof-1 @itsbwokenln4 @nixily @reengard @candyeollies @customsbyjcg-blog @heeseungthel0ml @sweate-r-weathe-r
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livelaughlovesubs · 2 days
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poor baby caelus needs to destress after everything he's been through in penacony... praise spilling out of my lips as i work my hands over his cock and unravel him inch by inch at dream's edge....... he doesn't need to do anything, he's already accomplished enough: pretty boys like him deserve to be gently ruined and made love to! so, with that in mind, he can whine and beg to his heart's content — 🧬
Dom!reader x sub!Caelus
Warning: fluff, handjob, praise and pet names like: darling, dear, love
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“P-please…!” He begged, over and over again. A never ending circle of his adorable pleads. “It’s alright darling, so need to be worried, I’ll make you feel good.” After another hectic and busy day, your dearest partner was exhausted to the point he couldn’t stand anymore. How your heart throbs whenever he comes back home to only crash into the bed. In your eyes, he deserved nothing but the gentlest, most precious treatment.
The two of you were both on the bed, lying on your sides. You hugged him from behind, delicate hands carefully wrapped around his leaking member. “Good boy.. just like that, you are doing so well my love.” One hand was pumping him up and down, giving him a handjob, while the other teased his toned body. Giving him belly rubs, or brushing your fingers over his abs. Anything just to tell him how much you appreciate him. His precum stuck to your palm, acting as some kind of lube and helping you move easier. “Hnngh… please, y/n.” Your poor baby whines, gazing at you over his shoulder, tears were swelling inside his eyes. How adorable he was, like a lost puppy.
“You don’t need to do anything, dear, just lay back and enjoy.” Thats the least you could do for him, ravishing him with genuine love and affection. His lips trembled each time your thumb rubbed his slit, making him want to wriggle away from you, from the overwhelming pleasure. He was also twitching a lot in your hand. Luckily you were behind him, cuz he would be too embarrassed to show you his face right now. Drool was hanging out from the corners of his mouth running all the way down to his chin. Cheeks a rosy pink matching his crimson ears, hair stuck to his forehead in a messy manner all due to the thin layer of sweat coating his body.
You loved him, you adored him like nothing else. He was your pretty boy, your gorgeous little thing, something you wanted to cherish and protect at all costs. A shiver ran down his spine when he noticed you kissing the back of his neck, whenever you talked the vibrations of your voice would make him shake. His heart always jumped so much when he was with you. “Hm-nghh.. please, y/n, please..” every time he begged you with that honey sweet voice of his, you could feel butterflies in your stomach. Why was he so cute? This should be a sin, it’s so adorable that you want to eat him up. With a soft tone, you said, “please what, my dear? I’ll give you whatever you want.”
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too-much-tma-stuff · 2 days
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An Unwelcome Guest (part 5)
First | Previous | Masterpost
Thank you to mossycobblestonewrites for betaing for me!
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Something was off with Danny, he had been twitchy since earlier that day. Jason wondered if it had something to do with the meeting with Batman he’d agreed to tonight, but he didn’t think that was it. Batman didn’t scare Danny, Jason getting hurt might, but Jason was ready for this and with Danny there he wasn’t going to get hurt. 
As much as Jason wanted to let Danny talk about this when he was ready, they needed to be at their best, and on the same page. “Fox, in my office,” he demanded, using the false name Danny still went by in public after Danny had twitched one too many times. The goons around them cackled and nudged Danny with their elbow or slapped him in the shoulder, probably expecting them to go fuck which… it was a fair assumption, they did that a lot, but not today. 
Still, Danny smiled at them in a way that gave nothing away before sliding into the office after him. “So, are we here for you or me?” Danny asked, slipping past Jason to lean against the edge of the desk, smiling at him a little. 
“You,” Jason stated. It could have been him. He was pretty stressed about the meeting and he wouldn’t have minded taking it out on someone. Not today though, not when Danny was already upset. “What’s got you so twitching, Moonlight?” Jason questioned gently, stepping forward to rest his hands on Danny’s waist, forcing himself to be a calming and caring presence right now. 
“It’s nothing, Jason, really,” Danny reassured, giving Jason a small smile. 
“It’s not,” Jason argued, brushing Danny’s bangs out of his face. “I’ve never seen you this twitchy. What’s got you spooked?”
Danny looked down, unable to meet Jason’s eyes as he fought with himself, conflicted about what, or how much to say. Jason waited patiently. Danny sighed and looked back up at him. “You know I haven’t told you everything. You’ve been really good about letting me keep my secrets, and I appreciate that. I told you I wasn’t human and you didn’t push to know what I was. I appreciate that, and I’m still not ready to talk about it, But… I felt a new presence in Gotham this morning. I mean, people come and go all the time, I wouldn’t think anything of it really. But they tried to See us. I blocked their vision, but I’m worried about why they tried to look at all.
“I think that Batman might have something to do with it. I got angry when Batman tried to insist on meeting with you alone before and slipped a little. I’m worried they clocked me as not really human and if they did… what if they contact the GIW or something? I’m not ready to face them again,” Danny admitted with a small shudder. It was a very good reason to be jumpy really.
“I won’t let anyone hurt you. I won’t let them have you. We don’t have to go to the meeting if you don’t want to, or I can go alone,” Jason offered softly, but he knew Danny wouldn’t agree.
“No,” Danny snarled, grabbing onto Jason’s shirt. “No, I'm not letting you go alone! We’ll go, but it’s… Jason, if they try to get me I need you to run okay? Don’t try to save me. I can save myself, but not if I have to worry about you getting hurt. I just need permission to defend myself if it comes down to that. I can’t promise there won’t be collateral damage, it’s been a long time since I did anything full strength. I don’t know how… explosive it’ll be.” 
“You don’t need my permission to defend yourself,” Jason told Danny disbelievingly. “But you have it anyway,” Jason added immediately when he saw the dubious look on Danny’s face, deeply relieved when he felt his boyfriend relax slowly.
“Alright,” Danny said with a little smile, “then we’ll be fine. Let’s go ahead with the meeting,” he encouraged, stretching up to kiss Jason sweetly before they went back to work.
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That night Jason and Danny went home a little early. Cooking and eating a quiet dinner together, letting the calm brace them for the meeting that night. Once they were finished and cleaned up they suited up again and headed out to the meeting spot they’d arranged with Batman; a warehouse just inside their territory. They had it staked out all day so there was no chance for a trap and arrived just before the time of the meeting so they would be there first. 
Both Red Hood and Hyena were leaning against one of the pillars together, Hyena tucked under Jason’s arm when Batman and Robin came down from the rafters. Those two could never use a fucking door! Jason rolled his eyes in irritation, irritation that turned to anger when he realized they weren’t alone, shooting to stand up straight and face the newcomer. Someone was with them, a blond man in a brown trenchcoat. Constantine. 
The temperature in the room dropped nearly ten degrees. Jason shivered, looking back at Danny for an explanation. Danny’s eyes were entirely green, no whites or pupils to be seen as he stared at Constantine, who at this point, was visibly cowering. Even Batman looked shocked by the shift in the air. 
“You do Not have permission to enter My Haunt, Hellblazer,” Hyena hissed, his voice echoing oddly as he stepped forward, in front of Jason, his arm half out as if to shield him. 
“I’m so sorry! Batman insisted I come, I promise I wouldn’t have come anywhere near your turf if it was up to me!” Constantine insisted, holding his hands up placatingly. 
“Were you at least polite enough to bring an offering?” Danny questioned, his glowing eyes narrowed. 
Constantine looked panicked as he quickly patted down his pockets. It seemed like the only thing he had was a pack of cigarettes. Danny laughed at him but considered the offering anyway, cocking his head. “They’re the brand Red Hood smoked, I’ll take them,” he decided. He held out his hand and Constantine tossed the pack to him, unwilling to get closer to a potential threat.  Danny caught the pack easily and passed it off to Jason, who pocketed it. 
“You smoke?” Batman asked Jason, sounding betrayed for some reason. 
“Really!? That’s what you’re worried about right now?!” Constantine squeaked at Batman indignantly. 
Danny cackled, shaking his head at them before looking at Batman with a thoughtful expression. “I’m assuming you brought him because you have questions and suspicions,” Danny asked with some disdain. 
“And here I thought this meeting was because you wanted to see me,” Jason put in, holding his hands to his chest as if he was hurt. 
“It is! I do! I’m just worried about you, this isn’t like you and if-” Batman started, sounding more and more like Bruce before Jason interrupted. 
“If what? If he's manipulating me?” Jason scoffed, and shook his head. “He’s not, and you don’t fucking know me!” 
Danny looked back and forth between all parties present before shrugging. “Do you know what I am, Hellblazer?” He asked curiously, looking back at Constantine, who hesitated, and then shook his head. “Do you have any skill with magic?” Danny continued. Constantine hesitated again, and then nodded. “Good. I will let you cast One spell, for honesty. Not to be forced to answer, not to bind me, but One spell circle to ensure I won’t lie. Then you,” he said looking at Batman defiantly, “can ask me your questions.” 
“Sweetheart, are you sure?” Jason asked, reaching out to grab Danny’s arm gently. “You don’t have to, you know it doesn’t matter what he thinks.” Ya, Jason was a little freaked out by the change in Danny here, but it didn’t really matter right now. They could talk about it later. 
“I know it doesn’t, but there are some things I want to tell you too, and this will make it easier,” Danny reassured Jason, clearly smiling behind his mask. 
“Um, if you’re sure?” Constantine hesitated, reluctant to piss Hyena off. 
“Yes, I’m sure. I’ll watch you make the circle,” Danny confirmed, stepping forward as Constantine started to draw the circle. “You were the one who tried to spy earlier today, huh?” Danny asked and Constantine flinched.
“Ya, sorry about that,” Constantine apologized, his hands remaining steady as he drew, despite the nervousness in his voice
“Don’t worry about it. I’m relieved to know who it was,” he admitted with a casual shrug. “Just don’t try that again,” Danny added, shooting Constantine a glare. 
The silence was heavy as Constantine finished the circle. Danny gave a satisfied nod as he stepped inside. The signs activated, glowing gold and then green. Danny seemed relaxed and comfortable again. “Right, spells’ active. I won’t answer everything but I can’t lie. Ask away,” Danny said smiling at Jason and spreading his arms a little. 
It was Batman who managed to ask first; “What are your intentions with my Son?”
“To fuck him on every flat surface from here to Star City,” Danny stated, completely seriously, making Jason burst out laughing, Constantine choke, and Batman look like he’d bitten a lemon. “And to love him, truly and unconditionally,” he added, his expression softening as he looked back at Jason. 
“I love you too, Cub,” Jason said fondly. He switched his attention to Batman with a frown, “I am Not your son. Fuck you.” 
The lemon-bitten expression on Batman’s face got worse. 
“What are you?” Constantine asked hesitantly and Danny shrugged. 
“I’m a myth. If I told you what I am you’d probably think the spell failed rather than thinking I was telling the truth. I am an impossibility and a fact. That’s as much as I’m willing to say,” he declared, glancing at Batman. 
Jason bit down another laugh at how dramatic and romantic Danny made it sound. Though it did make him wonder What exactly Danny was. 
“Are you human?” Jason asked. He knew the answer, but he wanted Batman to hear it. 
“I was human, not that long ago, and I’m not Not human now. I am as much human as I am anything else.” Danny mused, giving Jason a look that told him Danny knew he was being a little shit, and he was enjoying it. Honestly, that he had ever been fully human was news to Jason, he thought Danny had always been half. Had it been the tests that made him Something Else? Some new version of those chemically induced Metas?
“How powerful are you?” Batman, again.
“I don’t entirely know, it’s been a few years since I’ve really tested my limit,” Danny admitted with a little frown, “I do know the last time I was measured, I could have theoretically fought Superman and won without much trouble.” Behind him, Jason whistled softly, impressed. “I don’t use them because I’m not great at pulling my punches and I don’t want to damage Red Hood’s city.”
Constantine was glaring at Batman and making a quite clearly telegraphed ‘See?! I told you so!’ motion. Batman did not look pleased. 
Hood stepped a little closer to the edge of the circle, drawing Danny’s full attention, turning more towards him. “That was why you asked me for permission to defend yourself if you needed to before we came here?” Danny nodded, looking a little bashful. “So you’d use them if I asked you too?” Red Hood asked. Danny hesitated, then nodded again. 
“I’d do anything for you,” he confessed. The honesty was ragged, it dropped heavily into Jason’s chest as he realized the true weight and responsibility of that. 
“Do you have a deal with him?” Constantine asked Danny, gesturing at Jason.
“No, no deal, no contract. I can’t be bound by such things,” Danny said, shaking his head. 
Constantine looked a little green at that, though the non-magically inclined people in the room don’t know why. “Then why…”
“Because I love him. Because he gave me purpose and Home when I had none. Humanity ripped my haunt away from me and desecrated my grave. I don’t want to think about what I could have become if he hadn’t found me,” Danny admitted with a little smile, looking down almost bashfully. 
“Your grave? So you are dead?” Constantine asked. Batman had fallen silent, probably pretty lost.
“There are many ways to be dead or undead, and having died is not the same thing as being dead,” Danny said loftily. 
Jason was pretty sure he was enjoying being cryptic and mysterious, it made him snort an inelegant laugh. That made Danny’s mysterious composure break and he cackled as well, grinning back at Jason from behind his muzzle, so familiar and wonderful. Jason loved him, no matter what he was. 
Danny’s eyes were back to normal as he looked back at Constantine and Batman. “What you need to know is that I am not a demon or a monster. I am not controlling or manipulating anyone, though I probably could if I tried. I have Claimed Crime Alley as my haunt on Red Hood’s behalf because I am loyal to him. I have no interest in the rest of Gotham, or in the rest of the world for that matter. Stay out of our way and you have nothing to fear from me.” Danny splayed his hands in a peace gesture. 
After a few moments of silence, with no more questions, Danny steps out of the circle and ducked back behind Jason. He could feel Danny press against his back, leaning against him a bit more heavily then he normally would, betraying how much this had taken out of him. 
“I think that’s enough for today,” Jason said, crossing his arms and glaring at Batman. 
“But-” Batman started, sounding startled. “No! Next time, maybe try meeting in good faith without any uninvited guests. If you pull any shit like this again there won’t be any more chances,” Jason warned before turning away, wrapping an arm around Danny’s shoulders and ushering him out. Making a hand gesture to the waiting goons and gunmen as they left, signaling them to make sure Batman and Constantine left as Jason took Danny home. Not that it was needed, Constantine practically ran as soon as he got the chance.
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quill-and-quiver · 3 days
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𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: house of the dragon | aemond targaryen x fem!reader 𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: After years of pining after Prince Aemond Targaryen, he finally allows you to meet his prized possession—his dragon. 𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜:  i don’t think any. this one’s mild - others won’t be lol | if u noticed anything i missed, pls let me know 𝚆𝙲: 2.7k — 11 min read time .·:*¨༺➻𝙰/𝙽: hi omg! my first post on a shiny new blog (◕‿◕✿) i know i’m like wayy late to the game with aemond but the new trailer coming out kicked my ass into gear. this is pre-s1e10 so we're pretending that aemond does, in fact, have control of vhagar 💀 also what i learned from this fic? aemond calls u pet. i don’t make the rules sorryyy. ALSO ALSO - requests are open - pls send some! 🤍 mills
✧❦༺ 𝖗𝖊𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖘𝖙 |.☽.| 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 |.☽.| 𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 ༻❦✧
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As he lies asleep, his head resting on the leather cover of a large tome, you study the features of his face. Your eyes trace the delicate curve of his nose, the sharpness of his Cupid’s bow, his angular jawline. Entranced by him, you may not have even noticed when he stirs if it isn't for the soft hum that slips from his lips. As Aemond lifts his head, you quickly turn back to the open book in front of you.
For the last three months, you have spent an unbearable amount of time with him. He’s recently fixated on the history and technique of dragon riding, and you’ve been helping him with his research. And for the last ten years, you have spent an unbearable amount of time gazing at him from a distance, waiting for him to really notice you.
While you relish the time you spend together in private, you tire of it. The truth is that you’re itching to make a show of your friendship. Publicly. Unfortunately, you doubt Aemond will be so understanding. You’ve spent many late nights together in the library or the study. You’ve even fallen asleep more than once in his private chambers, though not wrapped in his warm arms as you might wish. Especially recently, you’ve begun to waste the nights away talking, commiserating, and comforting one another.
But in the light of the day, under the watchful eye of society, everything is so different. Though you wait for his call during the day, it never seems to come. At times you wonder if Aemond is keeping away from you on purpose. When you cannot avoid one another, he pays you no mind as if you were a simple servant and nothing more. You’ve grown closer over the past months, but he still holds back. He is a man with many secrets, and you don’t appreciate being one of them.
As he groans and stretches, you exert every morsel of self-control to avoid glancing at him, even though you know that the muscles in his neck are likely pulled taut.
“What happened?” he mutters, his voice low and rasped.
“You fell asleep,” you reply as you pretend to be immersed in your book.
“For how long?”
“No idea. I was busy and enjoying the rare silence.”
A lie. You know it’s been at least a couple of hours. The truth is that you couldn’t have woken him up, even if you wanted to. Seeing him rest… You’ve never gotten the chance to before; you’ve always fallen asleep first. But he looked so content, peaceful, young. You’ve never seen him so relaxed, and you couldn’t be the one to destroy it.
“Surely the silence pales in comparison to the charming sound of my voice, does it not?” he says.
You can’t resist the temptation to lift your eyes, and you’re glad you do. You catch him just as the corners of his mouth curve upward into his signature smirk. Even in the dim light of the library, you admire the way his cheeks wrinkle when he smiles.
“Perhaps the way it sounds in your head. To the rest of us out here, it’s rather nasally, actually.”
You offer a grin of your own. He chuckles, leaning back in his seat. He drapes an arm lazily across the the chair. His silver hair is ever so slightly mussed from his nap. As you try not to imagine what it would feel like to run your fingers through it, the light catches on something at his throat. Your eyes flick down to the dragon-shaped hooks on his leather tunic.
“Ah, I found something for you,” you say, searching around the desk. You slide a dusty, red book toward him. “It’s a record documenting the pedigree of several Old Valyrian dragons. I checked and, unfortunately, Vhagar is not among them. The book is old, outdated. Still, I thought you might find it interesting.”
He hums in approval, running his long fingers over the spine of the book. You drag your eyes away from him, busying yourself by trying to find where you’d left off reading.
“I’d like you to meet Vhagar," he says.
Your head snaps back up, your eyes widening.
“What?”
“I want you to meet my dragon.” His unwavering stare tells you that he’s absolutely serious. “You’ve never seen a dragon before, have you? In the flesh, I mean.”
“Well…yes, I suppose I have seen them at a distance but not up close.”
“Good,” he responds, that horribly charming smirk returning. “Then it’ll be educational for you.”
“No, I…” you trail off, unable to come up with an excuse more convincing than ‘I don’t want to.’
“Why? Are you afraid, pet?”
All of the excuses you’ve whipped up in your mind suddenly evaporate. That stupid word that always makes your knees weak. Apparently, you’ve made it obvious that he can have anything he wants when he calls you by that one sweet name.
“Is it not reasonable to be weary of an ancient beast?" you counter. “Dragons are fickle creatures, no matter how much training they’ve had. And that’s not to mention the sheer size alone of Vhagar. I can hardly even imagine.”
“So you do fear her then. Or is it that you do not trust me to protect you should something go awry.”
His eyebrows furrow and head tilts inquisitively. You sigh and shake your head.
“I do trust you, Aemond. It’s just…as I said, dragons are fickle, unpredictable, wild.”
“I can assure you that I have full control over Vhagar.” He pushes the chair behind him and stands before stepping closer. His hand moves to the table, and he leans over your shoulder. His silver hair drops over his frame, nearly brushing against the bare skin of your forearm. In a low, deep voice he says, “I bonded with her, claimed her, rode her with no training. The largest dragon in the known world obeys me and me only.”
Your cheeks heat as his breath ghosts over your neck. His words drip with honey, and you imagine what it would be like to hear those words said of you.
You heave a deep breath and toss him a warning glare before putting a strip of parchment in the book and snapping it closed. You sneak a glance at the clock in the corner of the room and gasp when you realize the time of night. Before you can protest any more, Aemond holds out his hand, his open palm beckoning you forward.
“Come.”
Evidently his persuasion doesn’t just work on Vhagar because at the single command, you too obey him.
He pulls you into one of the Red Keep’s secret passages, tugging you along through an unfamiliar maze of shadowed halls and steps. You follow blindly, realizing just how much you’ve allowed yourself to trust him. And wondering if it’s a good idea. What feels like an eternity later, you step outside into the chilled night air. A quick glance around allowed you to guess at where you are, and you’re proved correct as you eye the massive stone structure before you. The Dragonpit.
You’ve never been inside. You’ve never needed to until now. And you’re in absolute awe of the entire place, craning your neck to take in as much as you can. Once inside the main hall, Aemond gestures for you to wait as he retreats into the shadows.
You aren’t quite sure what to expect. You envision dragons as harsh, violent beings, but Aemond talks about them as though they’re household pets. Trying to imagine Vhagar like a common dog is impossible. Though you’re doing your best to focus on the beautiful craftsmanship of the building, you keep noticing alarming features like ash-stained walls, talon marks slashed through stone, crumbling marble columns.
“Ready?”
Aemond’s voice startles you to a jump. Your head whips to the side to find that he’s snuck up behind you and is standing less than a foot away. He smirks again as you nervously chuckle and nod. When he angles his gaze toward one of the archways, you follow it.
“Māzigon, Vhagar,” Aemond says firmly. He’d used one of the few High Valyrian words you know the meaning of. [come]
You gulp as the lumbering giant moves into the firelight, her massive wings swaying from side to side with each step. Although there is plenty to take in, your eyes immediately latch onto the giant rows of sharp teeth. Vhagar snarls as she prowls forward. An acrid, foul smelling burst of hot air surrounds you - her breath. As the dragon stalks toward you, you can feel your body instinctively shrinking back. You inch closer and closer to Aemond. The beast comes to a pause before you, its nostrils flared.
“Y/N,” Aemond announces, lifting his chin proudly. “May I present the largest dragon in the world. My dragon.”
“She’s…lovely,” you quickly respond. You really hate the way Vhagar’s orange eyes are trained unwaveringly on you.
“Would you like to touch her?”
There he goes again, talking as if he had just presented you with a standard house cat, no larger than a small child. You glance over at Aemond, tilting your head.
“D-do they like to be pet? I hadn’t really thought of them that way.”
“Like it, not so much. But she’ll tolerate it,” he leans closer, offering a sinister crooked smile, “if I command her to.”
A tingle ricochets down your spine. You’re sure he’s just poking fun and, after all, he's talking about Vhagar. But you cannot deny that you, again, pretend you’re the one he’s playing with. You shake yourself out of your head and shrug.
“Alright then. How do you suggest I do this?”
“Lift your hand, flat palm, facing her. I’ll have her come to you. Oh, and try not to move, pet.”
You nod and take a deep breath before extending your arm as far as it will go and positioning your hand as instructed. Aemond steps forward in front of you, waving Vhagar forward.
“Māzigon, Vhagar,” Aemond repeats.
With a huff of hot air and a low growl, Vhagar begins to walk forward. It takes most of your willpower not to shy away. Aemond turns, standing to the side of you and Vhagar as the dragon inches closer and closer to your outstretched arm. She pauses just a few inches from your fingers. You freeze, unsure how to proceed. After a few moments of awkward silence, Aemond speaks.
“You can touch her now,” he teases. “She won’t come closer, you’ll have to meet her halfway.”
“I…right,” you mutter but remain still.
Aemond chuckles, circling around to stand behind you. Once again, he leans closer to you, his voice sounding sweet in your ear as he says, “I told you before, there’s no need to fear her. I have complete control. She won’t harm you.”
You know he’s probably right, but you still can’t bring yourself to move a muscle. You will every fiber of your being to obey you, to reach forward and touch the thing in front of you. But you can’t. More silent moments pass.
Suddenly, you feel the warmth of Aemond’s broad hand as it flattens on the small of your back. You arch your spine in response, startled yet electrified by his gentle touch. His other hand moves to wrap around your forearm, and his body molds around the outside of yours. With careful movements, he pushes your arm forward. Vhagar jerks, tossing her head with a growl. Aemond stops abruptly.
“Manda, Vhagar,” he says quietly. “Manda.” [gentle]
Vhagar huffs but lowers her head just enough for Aemond to guide your stretched palm onto her forehead. You release a breath, smiling despite yourself.
The feeling of her scales is strange - not how you expected. She is smooth and hot, like the ceramic surface of a warm teacup. You giggle, feeling almost giddy at the fact that you’re petting a real dragon as if it were a pup. You marvel at her, running your fingers over her broad head.
“She’s very important to you, isn’t she?” you ask, the thought escaping your lips before you really have the chance to stop it.
A few moments of silence pass before he replies, “Yes. She was…”
His voice fades but you nudge him with your shoulder.
“She was what?”
He heaves a sigh.
“A way to prove myself. To show everyone that I'm not to be passed over simply because I am the second son.”
You nod, your fingers still trailing over Vhagar’s scales.
“While I cannot understand the feeling, I can imagine how difficult it must be,” you reply. “Particularly when your older brother is someone like Aegon, who avoids his responsibilities like a sickness. When you are the one training, studying. It cannot be easy. But she is a very fine dragon, indeed. One you’ve earned. Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For trusting me. For sharing her with me.”
You’re still so fascinated by the texture of her scales and blurred by the sound of your nervous heart pounding in your ears that it takes you a moment to realize Aemond’s palm sliding up your arm to cover your own hand. Your smile fades.
He’s never touched you before. Not like this - not so…intentionally, sweetly. You turn your head back to glance up at him and are surprised to find him staring down at you. His parted lips and furrowed eyebrows make your knees feel weak. His hand slips onto your wrist, pulling your touch away from Vhagar. He guides you to face him and wraps his free hand around your other wrist. You don’t resist as your gaze drops down to his lips and then returns to his eyes.
“Qrīdrughagon.” [leave, away]
He doesn’t even bother to look at Vhagar as he speaks the command. With his hands secured firmly around your wrists, he gazes down at you. His thumb brushes along your skin, almost in time with your rapid heartbeat. You dare to look into his stormy eye once again, doing your best to seem enticing but not desperate. Though, by the gods do you feel it.
“I knew you would understand, pet. You’ve always seemed to understand me. No one else ever tries like you.”
He lifts a hand, brushing his knuckles across your cheekbone. Your eyes close in contentment at the sensation of his touch on your skin. When his finger hooks under your chin, you raise your face willingly. Aemond guides you toward him, your noses touching. Your hand slides onto his chest, a fist curling around the leather fabric of his tunic. His breath is hot and fast on your mouth. You release an involuntary gasp.
And then his lips crash onto you, slipping in between yours. When your mouths separate, he wastes no time coming back to you. He angles his head to reach you better as his grip slips from your face to curve around your waist. His other hand, still encircling your wrist, pulls your hand toward his chest and holds it tightly against his heart. His lips move expertly on yours. He pushes against you, and you meet his energy to deepen the kiss. You can feel his grasp tightening, his fingers clutching the material of the fabric on your back. The pressure sends your back into an arch and presses your chest flush against his. He begins to drag his fistfull of your clothes upward. You separate, breathless. But your fingers grip at his tunic, refusing to let him move any further away. He chuckles breathily and moves to attach his lips to yours again. A loud snort from Vhagar startles you, and you jerk back from one another.
“Oh…” you muse and chuckle quietly.
“I should take her back,” he says, breathlessly.
You smooth your hair as Aemond glares at Vhagar. He releases you but not before lifting your hand, curled tightly around his, to his lips and pressing a chaste kiss to your fingers. He steps away to take care of his dragon. With his back to you, he glances over his shoulder. His chest still rises and falls heavily as his eyes flick up and down your frame, the ghost of a wicked smile playing on his lips.
“Troublesome girls, the both of you,” he says teasingly.
When you return to your private chamber the next morning after breakfast, you find a small, stuffed dragon with greenish-blue bronze scales and a handwritten note, which reads:
𝒯𝑜 𝓂𝓎 𝓅𝓇𝒾𝓏𝑒𝒹 𝓅𝑒𝓉. 𝐹𝑜𝓇 𝓉𝓇𝓊𝓈𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓂𝑒. 𝒜𝓃𝒹 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓁𝑒𝓉𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓂𝑒 𝓈𝒽𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓎𝑜𝓊.
— 𝒜.
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