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pirateprincessblog · 5 months ago

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prefects and t(h)reats

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: you haven't been lurking the castle at night since the day you cost your house a lot of points and the slytherin prefect scolded you. long enough has passed, and you might want to start doing that again. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: park seonghwa x f!reader 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.6k words 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: harry potter universe, slytherin!seonghwa, hufflepuff!reader, smut, bit of angst (seonghwa being a piece of shit(basic slytherin) towards the reader and her friends) 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: spanking, hair pulling, choking, finger sucking, fingering, oral (f!receiving), voyeurism, unprotected sex, semi-public?

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: idk, cursing i guess 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: something got fucked in the process of posting this so if you see any repeating paragraphs do let me know my eyes aren't working anymore :D !everyone is of age, regardless of the year they are in. also, i may or may not have a finger sucking kink or whatever you call that :) also, i so did NOT use a twd negan reference here. just ignore that.

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.

"ugh! that snape will be the reason i get sent to azkaban, mark my words! i spent ages trying to perfect that mood colour changing sweater, and he just confiscated- wait, what?"

"what, what is it?"

"did our bloody house points get deducted again?"

just your luck, you need to pass by them to get to your next class. you wish you had perfected the disillusionment charm, it would be very helpful right now.

"you."

ignoring the voice that speaks clearly to you, you hug your books to your chest and quicken your pace, attempting to ascend the stone stairs and vanish into the divination classroom. suddenly, your elbows are seized by two familiar pairs of hands, drawing you back to stand before the house points display. indeed, the hourglass under the hufflepuff banner is noticeably less full than it was just the day before. and it may or may not be your fault. again.

"listen to me, honeydukes." wayne, your fellow housemate warns.

"don't call me that!" you still struggle to understand how you acquired that nickname, especially since you rarely visit honeydukes these days. that habit faded after your teeth nearly succumbed to decay from all the cotton candy and chocolate frogs.

"if you keep this up, you are going to be the reason i end up in azkaban. got it?" he points a finger at your face, causing you to stumble back.

"you have a week to get at least twenty points back. if you don't..." the other one, justin, also points his finger at you, "...i'll make your remaining years at hogwarts miserable. we are the lousiest house anyway, why do you have to make it worse?"

"yeah, what do you even do to make us lose house points?"

"i bet she pisses off prefects."

"or bothers professors outside the class, the know-it-all."

"i don't care if you have to duel harry potter himself, you'll get those points back."

"and when you do, you'll get double and triple that, and make sure we win this year."

"it is only fair, since you're costing us so much."

with each accusation hurled at you, you retreat, hoping to flee the verbal attack before tears betray you and worsen the situation. a high pitched noise invades your ears, drowning out their voices. so intent on avoiding their accusing fingers, you fail to notice the brink of the top stair until your foot falters and balance is lost. you gasp, eyes shut, bracing for the impact of cold stone against your skull.

"levioso!"

yet it never comes. your body is stuck in the air, right above the stairs. all the noise and fuss has left the main hall, resulting in you being too scared to open your eyes.

"accio."

but you are forced to open them, ears picking up quiet murmuring, mainly coming from girls. your eyes meet dark brown ones, stone cold with a serious expression. his black swirly wand is directed at you, levitating your body through the air until you're brought back to the top of the stairs. you finally regain control of it, hands hurriedly fixing the robe and covering yourself.

"you fools." he speaks, eyes not leaving yours.

your lip trembles, and eyes well up with tears. park seonghwa is the one person you do not wish to anger and disappoint. your admiration for him hasn't stopped growing since the day he came to this school. park seonghwa, the slytherin prince. slender frame, porcelain skin, high cheekbones, sharp jawline, plump lips, dark eyes, and an immpeccable posture. he walked the castle with such grace, his cloak following him and flowing in the air behind him. whether it was magic or not, you found yourself utterly captivated, not just by his cloak, but by his very essence. he was, in a word, beautiful.

"i'm- i'm sorry-" you stutter, the sentence not yet formed in your brain. is this really how your first encounter with him will go?

"you absolute fools." he turns around, facing the two boys.

wayne and justin are now the ones stumbling back, audibly gulping. "we're sorry, seonghwa."

"all that over house points?" seonghwa scoffs in disbelief, "well, guess what? you just cost your own house fifty points."

the entire great hall gasps, not used to seeing the prefect this enraged and stern. he avoids public confrontations, curious eyes and gossipy mouths, always opting to pull the troublemakers aside to scold them. he also mostly deducts five points, ten at most. but fifty?

"show is over. go to your classes." he orders to the crowd, and they waste no time in continuing their journey to their classrooms.

overwhelmed by the unfolding situation, you find yourself unable to move. your gaze fixes on seonghwa's polished black shoes, unsure of your next action or words. your first encounter with him wasn't supposed to unfold this way. you intended to sweep him off his feet, exuding confidence and the like. embarrassing yourself and struggling to hold back tears while avoiding his gaze was never in the plan.

"hey, honeydukes. are you alright?"

"i'm fi- honeydukes?" you look at him, brows furrowed. "you know about that nickname?"

he tilts his head, chuckling. "i gave you that nickname."

"you... you gave me that nickname?! do you have any idea how freaking annoying it is..."

"okay, calm down now."

"...to be called that all day every day? even when i've stopped visiting that bloody shop..."

"listen to me."

"...it's haunting me! how dare you?!"

your protest is silenced as he steps closer, cradling your jaw in the palm of his hand to lift your face towards his. the way his dark eyes look down on you makes you feel small and fragile, only being safe because he's holding you. you swallow hard, lips pressed tightly together, not yet trusting yourself to speak.

"i gave you that nickname when i first saw you. in hogsmeade, at honeydukes. i had never seen anyone eat cotton candy so cutely, and nobody would tell me your name until recently i heard it myself. so you became honeydukes. not my fault the rest heard it from me and decided to make their own version of it."

"still..." you are stubborn, not willing to let go so easily.

"tell you what..." he reaches into his pocket, taking out something shiny. you notice it is one of those wrapped chocolate balls, and coincidentally your favorite flavour. "accept this as an apology, and stop sneaking around the library at night. you're going to cost your house more points. and us prefects our sanity."

"a candy? you're bribing me?" you scoff.

he chuckles, then puts one end of the wrapper between his pearly white teeth, while his other hand still holds your jaw. he tugs at the opposite end of the wrapper, loosening it and making the treat more accessible. letting the wrapper drop to the ground, the shiny chocolate appears all the more enticing between his slender fingers.

"open up for me."

lips slowly peeling open, you allow his slender fingers to slip past them and place the treat on your tongue.

"that's a good girl." he purrs, eyes focused on the way your tongue swirls around the chocolate and his fingers. he takes them out, and catching you by surprise, puts them inside his mouth. "well, then. you better get to class."

you nod, gulping and hugging your books to your chest. not knowing what to say to that, or what to say at all, you turn around, ready to get to your next class. but he stops you once again, playfulness evident in his voice.

"and i mean it. stop sneaking around the castle at night. not that i hate other forms of punishment, i don't think it's something you'd enjoy. besides, you need sleep, especially with the upcoming exams."

"okay."

"what? didn't quite catch that."

"yes, sir!" you yell, annoyed and already running up the stairs, almost tripping on your cloak.

"atta girl." seonghwa smiles proudly, walking in the direction of his next class.

you used to love hogsmeade. then you hated it. now, you love it again. winter has wrapped the village in a festive mood, with christmas just around the corner. streets are dripping with decorations, lights and christmas trees. enchanted instruments are singing songs on the street, people are rushing to buy presents already, and hermione and ron are bickering as always. harry walks by your side, mesmerized by the amount of lights decorating the balconies of the villagers.

"we always go get stupid butterbeers. let's try something else for once!" the girl complains, growing sick of the habit the four of you have formed when arriving at hogsmeade.

"yes, but... it's butterbeer. what else is there to try?" the ginger says, opting for the simple routine.

"merlin, i don't know! just- ugh. what do you say, honeydukes?"

ever since you told them about the incident at the great hall, they've called you nothing but that. you don't hate it anymore. if anything, it reminds you of the slytherin prefect every time you are called. and you don't hate that either.

"i think..." just as you are about to agree with hermione, your eyes notice a group of slytherins entering the three broomsticks. thus, "...ron is right. i mean, butterbeer is butterbeer."

"so bland. fine, let's go."

upon entering, you realize that you have to fight your way to the seats. it is crowded, as though all of hogwarts has chosen the same time and place for drinks. ron is stubborn, tugging hermione, who tugs you, who tugs harry. the wizard chain somehow makes it through the singing and dancing crowd, reaching the end of the tavern and big table where you usually sit. only to find the place occupied.

"hey, that's our seats!" ron complains, pointing at the slytherin boys.

"oh, no. how dare they take our unassigned assigned seats?" the girl rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest.

"go on, honeydukes. say something."

you look at the boy who remained silent until now, confused. "me? why me?"

"well, it's your little boyfriend sitting there. maybe he'll listen to you."

"harry-!" before you can protest, you are nudged in front of the table, prompting all the boys at the table to halt their conversation and turn their heads to look at you. seonghwa raises an eyebrow, amused.

"what is it, half blood?" draco snickers, glancing over at seonghwa for approval. but when seonghwa doesn't acknowledge him, he settles down, hiding behind his half full glass of butterbeer.

"uh, my friends and i... we were just wondering..." you look behind at the three of them, who stand waiting politely as if you were their mother arranging a play date. "...if you could scoot over and let us have one side of the table? since it is a sharing table... and there's only four of us... and four of you. or not. i mean, if you want to. if you don't, that's fine. i'm not ordering you, i'm just... actually, we don't need it. sorry for bothering you. we'll leave now."

you turn around, cheeks and tips of ears ablaze with embarrassment. the trio looks at you with mouths open wide, wondering just what the hell happened to you.

"what the bloody hell was that?" ron says, eyebrows furrowed.

"i-"

"honeydukes?"

your body responds to his voice immediately, turning around and eyes locking into his. he smiles at you, then waves towards the seats that are now empty.

"ah, sweet!" harry cheers, and the two boys throw their belongings on the chairs and rush to the bar to order.

hermione takes a seat first, choosing a spot as far from them as possible. this leaves you with only one option: the chair next to blaise zabini, the boy who, after Seonghwa and Draco, had the most admirers. he doesn't acknowledge you, nor does anyone else, until you start gossiping with hermione and she abruptly stops mid-sentence.

"he's looking at you."

"what? who is?" your head starts to turn itself before thinking, but hermione is quick to slap your arm. "ow!"

"don't look! that prefect, seonghwa. he's looking at you so intensely. it's scary."

"like, scary scary or hot kinda scary?"

"well, i-" she stutters, not yet used to being this open with anyone yet. "the latter."

the boys arrive, ron holding the drinks and harry holding bowls of snacks. they almost throw them on the table, and ron doesn't even wait to sit before taking a big sip of his drink. harry digs into his loaded chips, not intending on offering anyone a bite or two.

the conversation at the other end of the table ceases, causing ron to set his glass down and harry to stop trying to fit the entire bowl into his cheeks. you look at both ends, the situation looking funny, especially with hermione looking embarrassed next to you. the slytherin boys exude sophistication, taking delicate sips of their drinks, sharing a bowl of spicy chili treats, conversing in hushed tones, and maintaining an overall neat and respectful demeanor. the gryffindor boys are a complete contrast; ron with his butterbeer moustache, harry with sauce smeared on his cheek, both flushed and almost reeking of sweat already.

"wufnt sum?" harry says with his mouth full, nudging his half empty bowl towards the other group.

they all look at the prefect, as if he decides whether they can have some or not. "no, thank you, potter. you seem to be enjoying it too much for me to take it away from you. i'd feel bad."

the groups snickers, and something twitches inside of you. seeing the prefect's cocky and arrogant smile, your interest in him falters. he's no longer looking at you, not even sparing you glances. entertaining his group and bullying the gryffindor boys seemed to be way more interesting. and you've had enough of it.

"so... nice moustache weasley."

"right, we get it." you almost yell, causing them to stop and turn their heads at you. "you're all so smart, and perfect, and purebloods, and we are just laughing stock. i don't need to listen to this, and neither do they."

"oh, feisty." draco comments, earning a glare from seonghwa.

"right, honeydukes. i apologize for my behaviour." the dark haired slytherin smiles at you, but your face stays the same.

"it's not me you should be apologizing to."

"are you dense? how dare you talk to him like that?" the young boy doesn't give up, wanting to fight you no matter what.

"malfoy, sit back." seonghwa says, putting a hand on draco's chest. "potter, weasley. i apologize for my comments."

"'s alright."

"yeah, no worries." they mumble, gazes locked on the table.

awkward silence swallows your corner of the tavern, with the people only staring at the middle of the table and only breathing. seonghwa then slides the untouched bowl of chili treats in the middle, causing the group to look at him.

"how about a game? you know, that muggle one, never have i ever? for each thing that you did, you need to eat a handful of these. you in, gryffindor?"

eager to prove themselves, they straighten their clothes and backs, and focus. hermione sits back, arms stubbornly crossed over her chest. ron nudges her with his elbow, and she rolls her eyes and joins in.

"hufflepuff?" the dark eyed boy tilts his head.

"sure, whatever."

"alright, then. game on."

it starts with innocent questions, such as cheating on exams and gossips. then, it progressively gets more serious and more...

"never have i ever made out with someone in the astronomy tower?"

sexual.

you are not shocked to see that blaise and seonghwa are taking a handful of the spicy treats, but your jaw drops when ron and hermione do the same, exchanging a single glance before blushing and shoving the handful in their mouths. harry shares his surprise with you, jaw equally hanging.

"well, well. little miss granger." seonghwa teases. "good job, ron boy."

"never have i ever... done more than dry humping in an empty owlery?" harry surprises the table with his question.

"what?! you've done that?!" hermione is almost in his face, surprised how she didn't know this about her best friend.

"i might've..." the chosen one smiles, wasting no time in burning his tongue with the treats once again.

your side of the table seems to retreat after that question, the slytherin boys asking about things you didn't ever think of. things that would have dubmbledore kick you out of the school, through the very same astronomy tower everyone seems to mention. the game eventually grows into a conversation, discussing who their favorite partner was, what their most risky situation was, and who they have an eye on recently.

"what about you, honeydukes?" blaise asks, using seonghwa's nickname for you. it just doesn't hit the same.

"what about me?"

"nothing to share? no risky business, no partners, no bad sexual experiences? i mean, have you had any experience at all?"

"of course i have. i'm not a virgin, if that's what you're implying. i've had more bad ones than good ones. having me jerk someone off under the desk while learning about amortentia wasn't exactly my cup of tea."

"oh, you poor thing." draco coos, mockingly.

they all eventually let go, and when you realize that seonghwa hasn't made a comment about you in a while, you look at him. he is already observing you, his expression unreadable. his eyes roam your face, then your hair, and finally your clothes. you feel small under his intense gaze, and you find yourself squirming on the wooden chair. when his eyes catch yours, he blinks, then looks away.

after a morning of intense studying, practicing flying, and rushing to hogsmeade for potions supplies for the exam tomorrow, you end up sleeping the entire afternoon. when you wake up, it is dark. you hate wasting days, especially because winter ones are so short. you haven't done anything fun for yourself these few weeks, only studying and avoiding the slytherin prefect.

he might've noticed, or perhaps not. you've noticed a few glances here and there, but the hogsmeade encounter made your feelings for him fade. it wasn't a major crush after all, just simple admiration. maybe liking. regardless, he doesn't get in your way. meaning, it might be safe to have one of those late night adventures through the castle. your disillusionment charm has improved, and you'll finally put it to good use.

wearing nothing but your yellow sleeping attire, you slip out of the dormitory and head to the library. the ghosts don't bother you, even if you didn't cast the charm yet. they must've found another victim, especially peeves. that bastard.

no prefect in sight either, which makes you wonder if you're really being that subtle and successful in your late night escapade. perhaps they're toying with you, letting you reach the doors of the library just to stop you and punish you.

yet, it doesn't happen. not when you reach the door, not when you slip past them, and not when you reach the restricted section.

"lumos." you chant, then put the handle of the wand between your teeth so you can see the shelves better.

how sad, you think, sneaking out at night only to come to a library.

mid book browsing, you hear footsteps. hurriedly twirling your wand around yourself, you cast the charm, and crouch.

"nox," you whisper, the wand no longer emitting light from its tip.

the footsteps get closer, with faint whistling being heard. whoever it is, they're either completely oblivious, or they're just keeping you at the edge before revealing themselves.

"little pig, little pig..." the voice sings, and you gasp.

the slytherin prince himself roams the library's forbidden section, each footstep sounding closer to you. you get on your hands and knees, crawling among the shelves in search for a way out. but from this perspective, everything looks different. after all, this isn't your usual view.

"let," step, "me," step, "in."

a hand grabs your hair from behind, pulling your head back just enough to make you yelp. the disillusionment charm wears off, and you groan, defeated.

"well, well. if it isn't the innocent little hufflepuff. no wonder i've been craving sweet since i entered the library."

"will you let go of me?"

"oh, sure thing." he softens his grip, giving you just a taste of freedom before yanking your head again, "what's the magic word? you know, that muggle one?"

"please, please!" you yelp, hands wrapping around his wrist in hopes of convincing him to let go.

he does, then steps back to give you space so you can get up. fixing your sleepwear, you fail to see his amused grin as he stares at you. when you finally look up at him, he has his usual prefect serious face on.

"now, what do you have to say for yourself?"

"sorry, it won't happen again." you should tattoo that on yourself next time you're in muggle world, it comes like a good morning to you. "i'll see myself out."

"oh, no, no." the man stops you, grabbing your elbow. "you don't get away with a sorry. not anymore. remember what i said last time?"

"uh... something about different forms of punishment?" you remember.

"that's right. good girl." his voice seems to drop a few octaves, causing you to subconsciously squeeze your thighs together. "now, how many?"

"what?"

"how many?"

"how many what?"

"spanks, sweetheart."

"you're-" you choke on your spit, "you're going to spank me?"

"oh, would you rather lose points? again?" he tilts his head, fake worry painted on his features.

"well, no, but-"

"deducting points doesn't seem to work on you anyways. i'll have to try a different approach. usually works." he steps towards you, making you step back.

"usually? you uh... you spank other people?" you dare ask.

"why?" he continues his slow steps.

"just asking."

"jealous?"

"why would i be?"

"i don't know." he shrugs, then looks around checking for intruders. "a little bird told me you have a crush on me."

your back hits the shelves, and you gasp. he stops in front of you, still maintaining a small distance. you stutter, not knowing what to say. do you have a crush on him?

"i certainly don't."

"oh." he furrows his eyebrows, "you sure?"

"yes." your voice comes out raspy, and you clear your throat. "yes, absolutely."

"honeydukes?"

"yes?"

"are you trying to convince yourself, or me?"

"i don't have a crush on you, seonghwa." you try to sound as convincing as possible.

"good. then, this interaction won't have any side effects besides teaching you a lesson. now, how many?"

you want to say a small number, like two or three. but if it happens to feel good, you won't have the guts to ask for more. oh how foolish, how can spanking be good?

"tick-tock, hufflepuff. if you don't decide, i will for you. and trust me, you do not want that."

he isn't touching you, hell, he isn't even looking at you. yet he has power over you like nobody ever had before, making you stand still against the bookshelves and wait for his instructions.

"ten," you simply say.

"ten? not one, two?" seonghwa is surprised with your answer, figuring you'd choose a smaller number.

"i didn't think you'd accept one or two. or would you?"

"smart girl. no, i wouldn't. now, what was your favorite subject again? charms, herbology?"

"dark arts," you reply, catching him off guard once again. of course he didn't see it coming. you're sneaking out to go to a library, you're a hufflepuff for merlin's sake, and you stand here in front of him, looking up at him with those wide innocent eyes of yours. who would guess dark arts?

"well, then," he swirls his black wand around both of you, turning you invisible once again, "lead the way, honeydukes."

and you do, having him follow you all the way to the defence against the dark arts classroom. you'd be lying if you said nervous sweat hasn't washed you over three times by the time you reach it. when the door closes, it's like time stops. this is it.

"won't umbridge hear? what if she's still in her office?" you whisper.

"muffliato." he simply casts, sparks flying between the desks, up the staircase at the end of the classroom, and through the doors of umbridge's office. "go on."

you keep walking, all the way to her desk. seonghwa plunges on the comfy professor's chair, then motioned for you to step closer. you barely step close to him, and he pushes you over his lap, causing you to squeak unintentionally. you hold onto his thigh, the position not the most comfortable one.

"count." the slytherin prefect demands.

his big hand lands on your bottom, making you jolt. "one."

his other hand rests on the small of your back, keeping you still so you stop squirming. only three more spanks later, you're already shuffling uncomfortably.

"two, three, four," you say, voice slowly cracking.

"but i'm barely halfway there yet, my hufflepuff princess. don't break on me just yet." he coos, voice soft and comforting, a great contrast to his actions.

you sniff, hand hurriedly wiping a tear that threatened to escape. seonghwa doesn't halt, even if he saw that. instead, he spanks you harder and harder, sparing no inch of your skin of the burning sensation.

"five, six, seven." you shudder, bracing yourself for more. only three more.

"almost there, sweetheart. you're doing so good for me." his other hand caresses your hair, removing it from your face and letting it fall aside. seeing you all teared up and flushed, something new sparks inside of him. "so pretty."

he can't help himself, his hand abusing your sore bottom, exceeding the amount that you both agreed on. you keep counting, not asking him to stop. he lands a final one, deciding it is enough once you let out the first cry.

"t-twenty," you sob, hiding your face in his black slacks.

when his hand touches your bottom again, you expect it to be another hit. instead, his hand caresses it, helping to soothe the pain. it lasts mere seconds, before you feel him raise the top of your pajama, then pull on the bottom. he exposes your red bottom to the cool classroom air, and you can't help but whine at the loss of contact.

"you did so good, my love." seonghwa coos, fingers running through your hair as he waits for you to collect yourself.

once you do, you realize that the burning sensation isn't only on your butt cheeks. you also feel it between your legs, briefs soaked with arousal.

"did you learn the lesson?" his hand finds its spot under your chin, raising your head so he can look at you properly.

"yes." you say, failing to maintain eye-contact with him. maybe it's the guilt, or maybe simply the way he looks at you. either way, you opt to stare at his perfectly ironed and buttoned up prefect attire.

"want me to make it feel better?"

you shrug, not quite sure what you wanted anyway. his hand slips from under your chin to your neck, catching you off guard, his fingers squeezing the sides of it. he presses lightly into your skin, the other hand adjusting your bottom so that it is higher up and your core easily accessible. a moan escapes your lips, feeling his digits find your clit so easily.

"oh, you poor thing. you're absolutely soaked. is that why you're crying? not from the pain, but from lack of attention?"

when you don't reply, he only chuckles, pressing into your neck more.

"i'll take good care of you, honeydukes."

he moves your briefs aside, digits circling your clit softly, before slipping into your aching hole. you bite into the fabric of his pants, but he stops you, instead offering his finger to bite on. he still holds onto your neck with his thumb and the rest of the fingers, his index finger popped into your mouth to muffle any noise you have to offer him.

hearing your own hole squelch as his fingers pump in and out of you makes a new rush of arousal wash over your folds. his fingers are long, very long. he curves them, spreads them, then removes them from your hole, only to spread your slick all over your clit and abuse it.

you're a drooling mess on his lap, eyes turning back at the pure pleasure he is gracing you with. your hips hopelessly push back, looking for anything to fill you up. he notices, removing his hand from your core, before standing you up and pushing you to sit on the desk. with a single motion, he shreds your briefs to bits, stuffing them into his pocket and attaching his mouth to your aching core.

you fall back on the desk, head hanging from it and overlooking the empty classroom. your brain creates various images for you as seonghwa's hot tongue swipes across your folds, imagining the classroom full of students as seonghwa feasts on you in front of them. were you weird for that?

"not at all, princess."

"stop reading my mind, prefect." you tug on his hair, a form of punishment for intruding your thoughts.

"can't help it, not when you're dripping all over my face."

his fingers find their way into your clenching hole again, curling upwards and finding a spot nobody ever had before. a moan escapes you, echoing through the classroom, and your other hand pushes seonghwa's head further into your cunt.

he chuckles against you, his own hands holding your thighs so you don't suffocate him. you feel yourself inching closer, hips desperately grinding on his mouth and nose, eager to feel a proper orgasm. he pulls away once again, making you whine and groan.

"my, i've spoiled you." he raises an eyebrow, amused at the glares you're sending him. he stands up, working on his zipper. he doesn't take his pants off, deciding to keep his prefect uniform on. it only makes the situation hotter, your brain finally realizing just what you're doing.

you're messing with a prefect, in the middle of the night, in a classroom, right under a professor's nose.

"kiss me." you ask, voice small. red paints your cheeks; you wanted to sound more confident than that.

"you want to taste yourself on my tongue, princess?"

"yes, please."

"since you asked so nicely."

he helps you stand again, hands firm on your waist, and lips finally attached to yours. your arms wrap around his neck, hungrily bringing his body closer to yours. you indeed taste yourself on his tongue, seonghwa not wasting a second in pushing through your soft lips in search for your hot muscle. the sound of kissing echoes in the classroom, the setting hotter than your wildest dreams. seonghwa is a dreamy kisser, making you feel wanted, hot and appreciated at the same time. his lips never leave yours, not even when your fingers tangle in his hair and pull at it with ecstasy. he only moans softly into your mouth, giving you a wave of confidence.

your hand slides down his chest, to the button of his pants, and finally to the zipper. you reach into it, pulling his hard cock out, before giving it a few slow pumps. he sighs into your lips, pulling away for a few moments. his forehead rests against yours, his body falling in control of your one hand. your thumb swipes over the tip, collecting the slick and spreading it over him. his hips rock with your hand, whines and moans deliciously filling your ears. it feels powerful to have him tremble in your hands, desperate and yearning for your touch and attention. this must be what he feels on a daily basis. and it must feel fucking amazing.

"you're full of surprises, aren't you?" he teases, and you tease back by squeezing his cock. he gasps, but chuckles regardless. "you're just a little brat, waiting to be stuffed like a bad girl. i know it."

with a swift motion, seonghwa turns you around, your still clothed tits pressing against the hard wooden desk and head pushed on the side. he slides into you without warning or teasing, so easily and perfectly. he wastes no time in holding your hips still, smashing his own into you and burying his cock deep in your hole. your walls swallow each inch he offers you, having both of you moan and groan at the pleasure.

"fuck-" he curses, eyes planted on the place where the two of you connect. "fuck, honeydukes- you're going to be the death of me."

"do you- ah!" he snaps his hips into yours once again, each thrust more forceful than the other, "do you do this with others sneaking out at night?"

"i knew you were jealous. so you do have a little crush on me?" he chuckles breathlessly.

"maybe. and maybe." you groan, hands gripping the edges of the desk.

"no, baby. i don't. you're the only one whose cunt i'm going to fill up, again and again. until you've learned your lesson properly."

it is your turn to chuckle now. "if this is your form of punishment, i might start sneaking around while you're on duty more often."

"oh, my hufflepuff princess. if you want me, you can have me any time you want. all day, every day. all you have to do is ask."

the conversation stops, as do his hips, when the doors on top of the stairs open.

"who's there?"

you try looking back at seonghwa, eyes full of fear. his cock twitches in your hole, the riskiness of the situation arousing to him.

"hush, love." he whispers, hand pushing your head down against the cold wood again.

his hips start moving gently, slowly stretching your hole again. you're in shock, not believing that he'd actually continue as the professor walks down the stairs in her own sleeping attire. her eyes skim over the room, trying to find anything unusual. but the silencing spell seems to be working, just like the disillusionment one, making umbridge unaware of your presence. a very... lewd presence.

"merlin, i can't take it anymore. i'm sorry, love."

not giving you a chance to ask why he's apologizing, you soon learn as his hand pulls your hair back and his other one grips your bruised bottom. his hips snap into yours with speed and accuracy, hitting the right spots and bringing you closer to release.

"seonghwa-" you moan.

"yes, love?"

"i want-" you moan again, then beg, "i want to see you, touch you."

he pulls away, helping your limp body in a different position. the professor is ignored, even when she comes dangerously close to the desk. it sends a new wave of arousal to your core, just in time for seonghwa to slide into you again.

"look at that," he sighs, looking at your belly.

you follow his gaze, seeing the outline of his cock on it. your hands bring his head closer so you can kiss him, with equal hunger as before. he continues pounding into you, chasing his own orgasm.

"right, there better not be anyone. i'm not in the mood for any tricks!" umbridge threatens, causing both of you to chuckle into each others mouths.

"this is kind of hot," you admit.

"as much as it is, i want her to go away as soon as possible. i just can't cum when i see her face."

you laugh, glancing at the professor one more time. as if she heard, she listens, angrily stomping upstairs and slamming the door shut.

"uh, speaking of temperatures, i know this is crazy, but i am feeling a bit chilly." you admit, the winter air entering the classroom and hitting your naked skin. after all, you were only in your thin sleepwear, having heavy covers on your bed that kept you warm. seonghwa wastes no time in taking off his prefect cloak, helping you put it on and planting a kiss on your forehead.

"you look beautiful in green, my pretty hufflepuff."

blush paints your cheeks, his scent enveloping you and sending a fresh batch of butterflies to your stomach. you never noticed it before, but he smells of forest moss and after rain stone, with a hint of potions ingredients. it is intoxicating, entering your organism and threatening to never leave.

"oh, merlin," seonghwa throws his head back, lost in pure pleasure as your hole swallows him, the outline of his cock on your belly adding to it all and helping him get closer to his goal. "fuck- fuck-"

he's absolutely dashing, a thin layer of sweat shining on his face and making his dark locks stick to his forehead. his lips are plump from you biting and sucking on them, slightly parted and letting out little gasps and moans. he unbuttons the first few buttons of his uniform, not having a problem with the cold. you're a moaning mess, just like him, completely letting go of every thought you had until now, simply giving yourself to him and admiring him.

you feel full of him, and just when you thought you couldn't feel fuller, seonghwa hisses, spilling his load in you and creating more squelching sounds as he rides out his orgasm, pushing in and out of you sloppily.

it doesn't take long for you to reach your own, the knot in your stomach exploding as his tip slams mercilessly into your soft spot, making you grip his arms, shoulders, hair, anything you could reach. he works you through your high, not missing a single face or sound you make.

you're exhausted, struggling to catch your breath. the recovery lasts longer than usual, seonghwa having wrecked you inside out. his hands gently remove your hair from your face so he can take a good look at you.

"you're good, love. breathe." he coos, caressing your cheek and blowing into your face to cool you off.

"thank you," you blurt out.

"what for?" the slytherin prefect laughs at your innocence.

"i don't know. this, i guess. i've never enjoyed sex, always saw it as a chore. and i never felt desired, just objectified."

"well," the dark haired slytherin pecks your forehead, then your nose, and finally your lips, "you don't have to worry about that anymore. i've never desired anyone the way i desire you, and i think i just proved it to you how much. you don't have to fear those things with me anymore."

"park seonghwa, are you subtly asking me to be your girlfriend?" you shyly ask, knowing that you might be wrong and embarrass yourself in front of him. to your relief, he pecks your lips once again.

"perhaps. only if you want to. if not, then i'm not asking."

"perhaps i want to."

"perhaps that makes me happy."

"you're crazy." you laugh, and he joins.

seonghwa does one more thing no other partner has ever done for you; he helps you get cleaned, then dressed, and walks you to the doors of your common room.

"if you do decide to sneak off again, please do let me know. wouldn't want other prefects to find you and steal your heart."

you nod, and with a longer kiss, finally part ways with him. he waits until you finish your usual rhythmic tapping on the barrels, until the doors open, and finally, until you disappear into your common room and back to the dormitory.

you notice the sun already rising, and hurry to jump back in bed.

"excuse me? is that a slytherin cloak on you?"

you freeze in your tracks, the cloak ready to slide off you and hide under your pillow. the girl on the bed to your left doesn't give up, now sitting up and staring at you wide eyed.

"and a prefect one too?!" the voice on the right joins, waking up the rest of the room and bringing attention to you.

fuck.

taglist: @hongthoven @itza-meee @onedumbho3 @chngbnwf @mxnsxngie @yunhowooyo @m3chigo @trivia-134340 @sanniesaur @shiningpaint-marbleheart @hyphenen @iweirdthingsblog @moonm1st @hwxbibi @jjoongstar @dawn-iscozy @callmeagardengnome @arson1893 @n1k1mura @ishz @hwa-stars @prettyjewel93 @hongjoongsprincess @fireseo @milkandoranges @kibs-and-bits @kitten4sannie @yuujismom @dianadiaries @teawithcherrypie @morethingsfandom

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espinosaurusrexex · 6 months ago

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

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

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

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

James.

Wake up, James.

Wake up!

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

“Anything else I can get you?”

“We’re good, honey.”

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

Every tragedy needs rain.

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

And it’s slowly turning black.

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t understand.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Angel.”

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

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

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

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

Whywhywhy? “Alright.”

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What mission?”

“I cannot tell you yet.”

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

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you not staying?”

“Sorry?”

“To help me.”

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

“Well, yes.”

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

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

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

And yours is the most enchanting of them all.

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

You have. But he speaks in riddles.

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay.”

“Good.”

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

“Is there a God?”

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

“Do you know God?”

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

“Why did that answer take you so long?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m not following.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you stop him. “Please don’t.”

“Yes, that is probably for the best.”

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

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

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

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

“Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What? Never?”

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

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

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

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

“Good night.”

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You can’t be here.”

“Why not?”

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

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

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

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

“What are you doing here?”

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

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

“Then I will oder.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Anything.”

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, thank you.”

“Okay.”

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

At least he thought so.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

He’s touching you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay.”

❁ ❁ ❁

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“James-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“James is not just any angel.”

“Steve, stop it.”

“He is your guardian angel.”

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

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

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

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

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

“You cant do this forever, James.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can help you.”

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

“Go.”

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

A little warmth would feel nice now.

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Tale of Buchariel: The Curious Angel

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then you see him.

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Very.”

“Do you like it?”

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

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

“You already do.”

“I want to make it even better.”

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

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

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

“What are you doing?”

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

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

“Do you trust me?”

“With my entire soul.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

James hides the chuckle bubbling up his throat at your sudden question. He still has his eyes closed, taking in the feeling of your nails lightly scratching up and down his forearms. It makes him tingly.

“All your life, yes.”

“And have you ever meddled with other things that were supposed to happen to me?”

“Do you remember the year in which you kept finding pineapples in arbitrary places?”

It’s silent for a moment, but your movements don’t falter. “I always thought that was a weird coincidence.”

James smiles into the crook of your neck. “Consider it my way of adding a little excitement to your life. And maybe a small attempt to make you notice me.”

You push yourself up slightly and rest on your elbows as you look at James. “I like you like this.” You smile.

“Like what?” He’s smiling as well.”

“Less angel, more...” Your hand comes up to gesture at nothing in particular. “...deviant.”

The smile on James’s face turns into a proud grin before he leans up to kiss you tenderly, savoring the moment and pushing away the thought that has been gnawing on him ever since he came back.

He holds you until you fall asleep, purposefully missing the opportunity to tell you what he has gotten himself into while he was away.

❁ ❁ ❁

James stands in the garden, the sky overcast and heavy with the promise of rain. He’s out here to retrieve a bouquet of your favorite flowers, smiling like a fool because he finally has what he always wished for. All his mishaps and seem worth it when he holds you in his arms at night.

The flowers are vibrant and alive, and he bends to pick them with a sense of purpose, each blossom a token of his affection. Even as the first raindrops start to fall, his joy is undiminished. The rain doesn’t bother him; it’s a minor inconvenience compared to the happiness he’s found with you.

As he moves through the garden, he thinks of the moments you’ve shared—the way your eyes light up when you see him, the warmth of your touch, the sound of your laughter, the way you writhe beneath him in she sheets. For the first time in his existence, he feels complete.

James clutches the bouquet and heads back toward the house, eager to see the surprise on your face when he presents you with the flowers.

But before he can pass the threshold, an eery feeling spreads though is soul, a shadow falls over him but vanishes just as soon. He scans the yard, his sight nestling through the trees at the very edge of it and then suddenly halting when he sees Wanda leaning against one at the very far corner of your property. Her presence is like a dark cloud on the horizon, a stark contrast to the bright joy he feels. Her red eyes glint with a knowing look, and her lips curl into a smirk that sends a chill down his spine.

“Are you not coming inside, James? The weather will only get worse.” You shout through the house only to appear behind him to inspect what is keeping him outside.

But James’s stare is fixated on the demon in your yard, his protective instincts setting in immediately, scanning his surroundings while keeping a close eye on Wanda.

“What is going on?” You ask and reach your arms around him from the side. He can sense you’re eyeing him but he knows you see what he is seeing when your entire body grows rigid beside him.

“Who is that?” you whisper into James’s shoulder as you step even closer to him, your voice barely audible over the increasing patter of rain. He squeezes you a little tighter, trying to shield you from the inevitable storm brewing. A quick look at your state tells him he should have send you inside. But It is too late for that now.

When his head turns back into the direction of the demon, it is no longer in its prior place. Instead, Wanda has moved across the garden with impeccable speed, looking up at the pair of you a few feet alway from the step leading to your porch.

“You promised me time to explore the likes of this life.” His voice is low and intimidating, though he knows its futile in the face of a demon. They are scared of very little.

“And explored you have,” her red hair falls over her shoulder when her head ticks to the side. “Tell me, Bucharius, is it worth the cost?”

The demon knows of the leverage it has on him. James was sure he would follow through with his request from the start. But he forgot, or maybe just hoped, the devil’s spawn would gift him more time until he had to go and seal the contract.

“You know it is,” he pushes though clenched teeth, hating how your fingers clamp around his arm already.

“Actually, I don’t. But I would be an idiot to refuse an offer such as yours.” Wanda clasps her long fingers together and grins with evil. “Oh, I will have so much fun with your soul once the time comes.”

The angel closes his eyes tightly, hating the way the demon pressures him to leave so soon. But it is for the greater good, for him at least. He need’s to be selfish for once - to be able to spend a lifetime providing whatever you desire.

“Just give me a moment, Wanda,” James says, his voice steady despite the chaos inside his head. He knows his flicker of happiness is about to be shattered, but he wants to hold onto it for just a little longer.

“What is happening? What does she want?” There are tears brimming in your eyes and James decides he has seen them far too many times to be a good guardian to you. It just secures his decision to do what Wanda came to collect him for.

James presses his lips to the crown of your head before gently tilting it upward with his fingers. His gaze is steady, exuding a confidence while you desperately cling to him in your confusion.

“I’m not sure I can handle all this newfound angelic drama,” you mutter with unease, and James kisses you—short and sweet, a fleeting moment of peace.

Then he whispers against your lips, “Please, you handle drama like a queen. Remember that time you dealt with Valentina from accounting?” His attempt at humor brings a small smile to your face, and he momentarily loses himself in the warmth and security it provides.

But the feeling doesn’t last long.

“James has made a deal with the devil,” Wanda grins, her red eyes flashing with malevolent glee.

Her words send shivers over your body, James feels the ripples pass beneath his fingertips. You pull away from your guardian angel, whose troubles have now escalated to an unthinkable level.

“What does she mean, James?”

❁ ❁ ❁

James’s silence is deafening. You pray, you beg, for this to be a terrible joke, but deep down, you know it’s not.

“James.” Your words are strained, desperate for answers, desperate for reassurance. “What is she talking about?”

“It is true,” James finally admits, his eyes free of sorrow but filled with determination. “I have made a deal with Lucifer. My wings for a mortal life. My soul when it leaves my deceased body after spending a lifetime with you.”

“What?” The word is a whisper, your mind struggling to process the gravity of his confession. Because your cheeks feel salty and stained before you realize what James has just told you. “Why are you doing this?” you ask through your tears.

“Because I’d give up heaven if it meant being with you.” James’s eyes burn into yours, the rain dripping off his wet face deceivingly. His voice is steady, unwavering. “I’d go to hell a thousand times over until my soul burns to ashes if it meant I get to hold you one more time. You’re everything to me. Everything.”

Another wave of shivers slip over your skin with the way he presses the last word. His eyes are fiery, almost desperate. He is trying to make you understand how much better this decision is, but you fail to see how it can. “You can’t do this. You are destined for more. There are many more to come after me that need protecting and watching over.”

“And there have been plenty before you, yet none of them have or will ever compare, my love.” He touches your cheek, but you push his hand away. Your heart is already aching when you watch his face fall at the gesture. But you are not made for these types of dilemmas. You are human for fuck’s sake. “I would spend eternity regretting not experiencing life with you. I am tired of watching; I am over feeling the distance between us. Going back to heaven means finding you someone else to love. And I cannot do that. It would destroy me, burn me alive, rip my heart out of my chest.”

“James, think about this.” Now the first angry tear slips from his face and mixes with he rain which has grown heavier. Dark clouds cast over the scene, matching the mood perfectly. Dreary and sad - how poetic.

“I have. For far too long. I will never feel truly fulfilled until I can be what you need me to be: a real, tangible person that grows old with you.”

You shake your head, your hair sticking to your skin. “You have to believe me when I tell you that I exist only for you. My life was dull before you entered it, and it will feel like a black hole when you leave. There is nothing—nothing—I wouldn’t do to be with you.”

Never before have words felt more genuine than this. James is hunched forward, his eyes pleading at you from above. A sneaky hand has captured yours and presses it to his chest, where his heart is beating vigorously against your skin.

Resignation laces your voice when you finally answer him. “So you’re just going to leave now? For how long? What if he tricked you?”

You don’t know much about all the rules but one thing is for sure, the devil likes to play and deceive. Just the thought of James walking into a trap makes your stomach churn.

“Then it was worth it.” There is something akin to content and fulfillment in Jame’s stare when his hand squeezes yours and his heartbeat slows. Though your’s seems to do the opposite.

“No.” You say breathlessly.

“I’m sorry," he answers, and wraps your fingers around the bouquet in his hands.

“James.”

“I love you.”

“James.”

The rain intensifies, pounding the earth as if mirroring the turmoil in your heart. James turns and lets Wanda put him in chains, leading him away. You fall to your knees, crying, the three words you have yet to say hanging on your lips for nobody to hear. He’s gone. He’s gone without the knowledge of ever seeing you again.

❁ ❁ ❁

And just like that it ends like it began: in tragedy… and rain.

❁ ❁ ❁

Maybe you are just not cut out for happiness, you think as you wipe down the counter with a frown. The sun is shining today, almost mocking your bad mood with every chirping of birds outside. Earlier today, you were so angry about the reflection blinding you inside that you shut the blinds completely.

James has been gone for a week now and you already feel like breaking down over what you’ve lost whenever something is mentioned that reminds you of him.

A few days ago, after a really rough night, you swore you’d never let anyone this close to you. It’s the perfect start for you villain origin story, really. Losing your brother to an abusive ex. Losing said abusive ex thanks to a protective angel. Then falling in love with the angel only for him to go to hell for loving you back.

You heart cannot take another hit. It’s constantly breaking as you think about the torture and pain James is probably suffering in the pits of hell. There is just no more room for another person, another worry, or anything else, really.

You will just die an old and groggy lady, likely still cleaning this very counter until you cant anymore. The whole town is going to know you as the weird woman with seventy two cats.

You shake at the thought of it, disposing of your towel and grabbings some plates from the counter to clean up some more.

“New customer is yours, freaking weirdo has been standing outside the window and looking inside like some kind of stalker,” Scott mumbles as he paces by you with his head buried in his phone screen.

You just sigh and throw a used napkin into the trash before loading the dirty plates onto a kitchen tray.

“I’d like a sandwich, please.” A voice sounds from behind you and your entire body goes rigid.

It can’t be. It cant. For days you have been wishing for James to come back, now you are finally becoming crazy.

But your heart picks up its familiar sprint and your entire body tingles with hope. Still, you don’t dare to turn around.

“Are you not going to look at me, dearest?”

Your hands tremble as you grip the edge of the counter. What if it’s real? What if it’s not? The uncertainty gnaws at you, each second stretching into an eternity. You’ve dreamed of this moment, but dreams are fickle things, easily shattered by the harsh light of reality.

“James...” The name slips out in a whisper, a plea, a hope. Tears sting your eyes, and you squeeze them shut, bracing yourself for the worst.

You take a deep breath and finally turn around. Truly, there he stands in front of you, with a bright and gleaming grin on his lips. There is one thing you notice immediately: the silver cuffs on his arms are gone. And he looks oddly free without them.

Almost trance-like, you round the counter, your had reaches out to him, touching his jaw, gliding down the length of his neck until your fingertips disappear into the soft curls in the back of it.

“Is it really you?” You whisper in awe as you start to drown in the familiar blue of his eyes. And when James covers your hand with his, squeezing his reassuring sequence to your bones, you know. It’s real.

“In the ...flesh.” he frowns but then smiles widely.

“What happened when you were gone?” Your curiosity gets the better of you, but James just shakes his head and then turns his face to kiss the inside of your wrist.

“Not here, love. Take me home... if you’ll have me. Take me back. I promise no more secrets from now on.”

You just nod vigorously, finally pulling James into your embrace. The worry raging inside you fades into insignificance, eclipsed by the certainty that in this moment, you’ve regained something intently more powerful - a bond that defies explanation, but feels undeniably perfect.

“I will always choose you over anything else, James.” You nuzzle into his chest as you ravel in the warmth of his body and the security of his touch. His heart is singing the same song as yours and his head hangs low atop yours, pressing meaningful kisses to your hairline between every stroke of his hand on your back.

The diner around you might as well not exist. All that matters is this connection between you - the bond that defies the boundaries of heaven and earth.

“But tell me one thing,” you whisper into his shirt and James moves to better hear your low voice.

“I will tell you anything,” he presses into another kiss on your face, still holding you close.

“Are you... did the-“ you’re not sure how to assemble the questions inside your mind without being bold. But James seems to know exactly what it is you want to say.

He takes both his hands from around you and guides your face to his until his warm lips press a meaningful kiss to yours. “Yes,” he murmurs softly, yet steadily, conveying just enough seriousness to let you know how important and truthful his answer is. “I did what I promised. I am yours until the end of my life, and even beyond, my soul will be seeking yours for eternity. But until then, we will grow old together and finally be what we were meant to.”

His lips latch onto yours a second time and as the kiss deepens, a sense of completeness washes over you. In James’s arms, you find the solace and passion you have been yearning for, a promise of love that transcends all else.

“I can’t begin to tell you how much it means to me.” You smile back between kisses.

James pulls you even closer, his voice a gentle murmur against your lips. “We have a lifetime to show each other.”

And in that moment, surrounded by the echoes of a bustling diner and the warmth of his embrace, you know that no matter the trials ahead, this love will endure, defying all boundaries and transcending every limit.

❁ ❁ ❁

Because at last, there’s noting more freeing than falling itself.

🫵 You cant get enough of this character? Go check out the chatbot I made for him! This way you can explore different endlings, plotlines, or just enjoy his company for a while longer 💕

Lord, can we take a second and appreciate these images???!! Got me on my knees - and not for praying, I'll tell you this much...

Hello, loves. As always, thank you so much for taking the time to read my work. I hope you had fun! Maybe... juuuust maybe if you want to, you could leave a comment or reblog on this post. New fics will be on hiatus until August, I have some real life work to finish. But please feel free to interact and talk to me. I love hearing from you! Take care, and ill talk to you as soon as I can. ~Meg 💗

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14dayswithyou · 6 months ago

Note

This Angel has another question! \o

What's it like taking a bath with RENACTED?

✦゜ANSWERED: Hell on earth T_T he takes up soooo much room and won't give you a moment to yourself dshjgjds /silly

cw: It gets NSFW towards the end!! MDNI!

"Think we need more bubbles?"

When you're met with nothing but silence, you look up from your bubble sculpture to see your partner sporting an all too familiar pout on their face. His tattooed arms were crossed over his bare chest like he wanted to prove a point — and as if to fully emphasize their current disdain; Ren turns his head away the moment you make eye contact.

You couldn't help but let out a puff of laughter at the silliness of it all.

"Why are you pouting?" You nudge their leg with your own. "What's wrong?"

"...Why are you all th'way over there?"

'Over there', being on the opposite side of the tub from your beloved boyfriend. Which... didn't make much sense now that you thought about it, seeing as he was the one who (silently) volunteered to take the side with the faucet and drain, which left you with all the space and legroom your heart could desire. Though... it wasn't much, given how massive of a mountain your partner was. Ren was all long, lanky limbs and thick muscle; but it wasn't exactly evident with all the baggy clothing they often chose to wear.

In an attempt to make your beloved hacker feel better about the (albeit childish) situation, you carefully scoot over so that you were resting against one of their legs instead of the tub. But apparently, Ren still wanted more, as a familiar tattooed arm emerges from the water the moment you draw closer and silently beckons you to join him at his side. When you accept — in what world would you ever say no to him and that trademark frown? — Ren pulls you flush against his chest with a content sigh.

They were acting like the cat who got the cream, no doubt.

You barely have a moment to adjust to your new position before you feel Ren's arms wrap around your waist, and his chin finds its place atop your shoulder. Now, your hacker has the perfect view of you rebuilding your bubble castle once more — only this time, you were right where he wanted you.

"There." Your tone is laced with something mirthful and lively as you lean into his embrace. "Is this better?

"Much."

"Just make sure you don't fall asleep. Elanor told me that it's not safe to do that." You purposefully ignore how their arms tense up at the mention of your coworker. However, you don't miss how they dip further under the water to run along the inside of your thighs instead.

Ren's real name slips from your lips in warning. You knew exactly what he was trying to do right now. Their hands were ghosting dangerously close to your—

"...'M not doing anything."

"Liar, I can feel you— Ah!"

His fingers casually brush past your most sensitive part, and it has you flinging your head back and clutching onto his forearm. From that reaction alone, you can hear Ren let out a curious hum from behind as their hand moves back to your sex once more.

"Just making sure you're all nice 'n clean down there."

"I-I somehow doubt that..."

"Isn't that the point of baths? T'get clean?" He muses, voice ghosting along the shell of your ear. "...Why were you talking to your coworker about taking baths in the first place, anyway?"

One of the rubber frogs you added ('for ambience!' you recall telling your boyfriend) innocently floats past, and you had half a mind to reach out and turn its gaze away from the intimate scene. Ren still had one hand firmly placed around your stomach to keep you steady while the other was shamelessly running up and down your—

"...Think I'm gonna need to do a thorough inspection. Bend over the tub f'me?"

#GET YOUR YANDERE!!!!!!!! HE'S GETTING SILLY AGAIN #This was also going to be ''washing blood off of Rendacted in the bath'' but I went against it sjdkgd #💌 — answered.#💖 — 14 days with queue.#💖 — about ren.#🔞 — woohoo zone.#🖤 — sai writes.#sleepyue00

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inkskinned · 9 months ago

Text

the car broke down by the denny's where you used to work and therefore could never return to. i am trying to pick out the satisfying parts of my life, one-by-one, like i am 12 and in a frog dissection. everything in my life all viscera and formaldehyde. if i can sort the good things from the bad things, i will have a nice clean pile.

i call you and make it sound like i am happy and hangin' in there! when really i am kicking a rock and i am outside without a jacket and i am so in love with you it makes the little bones in my ear shake. someone called my tinnitus an angel choir. i like that it means i carry the echo of every concert.

this isn't the right setting for love. this is a roadside, and a denny's, and i am nauseous and ashamed i never escaped the town where i grew up. the clouds here are this strange yellow, like spilled sour milk. "someone once told me that the orange coating on the teeth of a beaver is due to the particularly high rate of iron in their enamel," i tell you. "the beaver is the largest rodent native to north america."

your voice is crackly on the other end. i'm going into a garage soon, i might lose you.

what i should be doing is calling the tow truck and explaining that my brother's car (that i'm borrowing) (that i broke now, i guess) needs to be lifted by another, bigger, stronger car (which is love too, i guess).

i shouldn't say so much. i should wait, and let you ask about my mom, and ask if i ever got over that cold, or how it's going at work. i should let you lead the conversation, for once, so the love doesn't leak out of me into the gravel. i open my mouth anyway. "if you had to choose between being a beaver with very few trees or being a tree around a bunch of beavers, which would it be?"

i don't know. your voice always has this warm cast to it when you talk to me, but maybe i am just imagining that - i am a poet, though, so i imagine things sort of chronically. through the static, you sound like you're laughing. are you the beaver?

i know, like, logically, not to fall in love with a girl-that-is-your-best-friend. like, who would i even call if we broke up? you're my best friend, you're the person i'd want to speak to. so what if these last few months we keep sleeping over at each other's houses, calling each other for hours, sending each other poems. so what if you keep wrapping your fingers into mine. no best friends. that is the first rule. what you are supposed to do in that situation is leave the situation.

but my car broke down, so. where exactly am i going to go? the car is a very-old chevvy and also where i almost-but-not-quite kissed you after you'd raised one shoulder and looked up at me and said i don't know, i think i'm straight, but for the right person - i'd try anything. the music had been good and it had been raining and your thick eyelashes had made me feel god crawling up my throat like a spider. and i didn't kiss you, because i am a coward.

anyway on the chevy the whole exhaust pipe fell out, and is now scraping on the ground like one silver finger stroking the back of the highway. recently we were watching netflix in my bed and you pushed my hair back from my face like you were making the slowest, most desperate prayer, and then your boyfriend called. i remember us both jumping. i couldn't look at you in the eyes for like a week after. i kept feeling the heat of your fingerprint; computer science, you'd unlocked something dark in me.

google says the closest tow (joe's pick up) is 50 minutes away and also closed permanently. so that's not great. you live in another state and i should be calling my insurance company. i should be calling anybody else. this is not helping. i need an uber. i need to get moving. instead i say: "i need three words for a poem."

yesterday i said love you, goodnight after our 2 hour call like always and then you just, like. paused. all i could hear was your breathing. and then you'd said what a pretty three-word poem. i love you too, sweet thing. the words made my tinnitus act up again, and i must have some kind of synesthesia, because the sound travelled into my mind until it became the shape wedding rings.

orange, you say. the static is now chewing through most of your words and i only catch - borrowing the chevy -

the call dies. i have 12% battery. i never get the 3rd word, but i know you're still going to get a poem from me. actually this rest stop is kind of pretty, and so is the exhaust pipe, and so is joe's pick up, and so are the clouds. the light here is the color of a glue trap. before you worked at the denny's, we used to get milkshakes every wednesday and called it a friend date. you said you'd wanted to work there because it reminded you of me.

the sign's gone dim. the letters now spell out deny. and isn't that something.

#spilled ink #ty nat #ps if anyone wants to send me money for a car. you'll never guess what happened :')

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wonryllis · 9 months ago

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さ 𝇃𝇂 ENHYPEN WHEN THEY GET JEALOUS OVER A GUY HITTING ON YOU.

╰ 𝖺𝗅𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗍𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗅𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝖺 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗒 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽.

𝒏o𝓉ℯs. the trigger of possesive enhypen 𖥔 ݁ fluff and love, and your man, LIBY? fem!reader requested word count ` 1513 unedited.

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 you're at the mall to watch a marvel movie together all excited. and there's this boba store right next door to the cinema hall, they have your favorite flavour but there's a long ass line. heeseung baby being down bad for you is rushing to get you what you want without a thought. even if he has to miss the grand opening scenes, he's getting you that boba you love. he's literally right next up when he notices this weirdo approach you. quickly gets your drink and runs back, more like long intimidating strides with a deep ass scary voice,"babe, who's this guy?"

immediately notices the dial pad open on his phone understanding that this frog was asking for your number. does a whole public display of affection, putting in the straw, holding the cup while you take a sip, squeezing your cheeks and going,"does my sweetcheeks like it?" leaving a kiss when you nod. "m sorry do you like need directions or something?" he's so jealous right now that this guy thinks he can bag you, and he's gonna take it out by embarrassing him. what to do you're so beautiful that flies keep getting attracted, he's found a tactic for this.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆 okay now this one is the wooing stage where you're seeing each other every other day but do not have a strict label yet, more like jay trying to do all it takes to win your heart. with the gentleman he is definitely it doesn't take him long but there are times when he's not so gentlemanly though not to you, you'll forever be his queen. it's friday night and he shows up at your doorstep unannounced waiting for you to get back home to surprise you with a bag of your favourite takeout. he's just steps away from your apartment door when he notices the bouquet of flowers stuck on the door with a small bag hanging beneath.

immediately searches through it to find a note with a number. types it in and makes a call giving the guy a really good piece of his mind to stay away, throwing away the flowers and the gift in the bins downstairs. and then he spots you talking to some guy? okay now he doesn't know if it's the same one or someone else so doing what would be graciously the best he walks over and pretends to be your boyfriend,"hey honeybun, i was waiting for you upstairs with this," showing the bag of food triumphantly and and then giving a sly look over to the guy.

𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍 so you're in ikea looking for a new bed for jake because y'all broke the last one while pillow fighting on it. cliche but you get lost amidst the aisles and jake is roaming around tryna find you first whereas you are least concerned about being separated like you'll reunite at some point anyway? right? however just two meters away from your boyfriend and some dude is walking right up in between, hand scratching the back of his neck just like how jake used to do early on in the relationship.

literally as awkward as it can be, the guy going on about how he's been looking at you for a while and how he'd like to get to know you, while your eyes are trained behind him at jake who in turn is shooting daggers at the guy. you don't know what to say hoping jake would come over but he's too busy feeling the jealousy lol, "my man wouldn't like that and neither would i so plea-" "oh come on he's not here is he-" "ayo sorry to disappoint buddy, but her man's right here," at first jake was super jealous like feeling the need to claim dominance but lord the moment you referred to him as 'your man' he's forgotten all about it.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 you were meeting up for a lunch date at your favourite place. and as always hoon was running a little late, leaving you waiting outside the restaurant. you're just on a bench nearby texting on your phone, when you feel someone sit beside you. you smile, thinking it's your lovely boyfriend but when you look up you find an unfamiliar guy grinning his tooth out at you? "hey i was watching you and you seem to be alone," oh no you already feel it going bad "uh no, im not alon-" "i was wondering if you could give me your number, i'm fun to be around really," he keeps on interrupting you again and again when you try to tell him you're not interested and taken.

"my pretty girl, let's go," sunghoon shows up, taking your hand into his and leading you away into the restaurant, straight up ignoring the guy. internally he's quite literally fuming his fists iching to throw a punch at the guy who thought it was okay to hit on you like that. he excuses himself to the washroom after placing the order to secretly check if the guy is still lingering around and if he is then god save him from sunghoon's wrath lmao.

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐖𝐎𝐎 you're in the mall,. shopping together, going around stores and trying on clothes. you find these bunch of cute floral print mini dresses and sunoo so encourages you to give it a try and see if you like it, promising to stay close by the fitting rooms to have a look and give feedback. however when you open the door for the third outfit instead of your darling there's a staff waiting around. he's immediately jumping at the opportunity to compliment how your body looks so good in it and how you rocked the previous dresses too. "uhm yeah thank you, but the man here-"

"babyyy, im so sorry i went to look some more for you and look what i found, you'd look so damn pretty in it all for me to see," sunoo walks over with a lingerie in his hand ksjskjskhhsj, he hands it over to you with a lovely smile on his face but as soon as you close the door, he's so giving it to the guy for trying to hit on you, "don't you think it is inappropriate to be saying all that to someone who clearly is not looking for and does not absolutely want your advice? and you're at work don't you have basic employee customer decency, where's your manager, i wanna speak to them,"

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍 this guy is always on his toes to pick you up from anywhere and everywhere. this time it was the library you frequent. it was late in the evening and it was raining, the perfect scenario for jungwon to be a knight in shining armour. by the time he's reached, you're supposed to be waiting by the door as your texts said but you're nowhere to be found. baby is confused, doesn't waste a second to go inside in search of you. and he's so glad he did because the first thing he sees is you uncomfortably standing by the front desk seemingly talking to the librarian guy.

the same one whom he has always noticed giving you the ogly googly eyes whenever he's been here with you. however won never thought of doing anything about it because it never went beyond just lovey dovey stares. until today that is,"excuse me i don't think you know but this gorgeous lady right here is in a committed relationship and we'll appreciate it if you stop with these inappropriate advances, it's really disrespectful to us both," damn that guy he got the message so clearly he ain't looking your way ever again,"let's go baby," jungwon is so coddling you after.

𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈 boy doesn't show a lot of his emotions especially in public. his best response to jealousy so far has been to stay quiet at the moment and then later on try to do more pda and all to show you're taken. this time it was valentines week and everyone at college was going around gifting chocolates and roses and other cutesy gifts. of course riki planned out a whole romantic date with your favourite flowers and sweets and everything thing you love. also he had this plan on that random people would come over to give you roses on his behalf and the last one will be him.

however it takes a twist when the random guy with the rose doesn't just leave after handing it to you, he's asking for your damn number man, riki gets so pissed, ready to throw hands more frustrated- jealous than ever especially that his secret plan is getting ruined, also he's like right beside you? "shut up, take this shit back and know your place!" he literally snatches the rose from the small bundle you hold and shoves it roughly into the guy before taking you away,"im so sorry baby for getting angry, i promise this won't happen again everyone will know you're mine,"

taglist ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @luvyev @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @brachives @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly @eeunoia

#enhypen imagines #enhypen fluff #enhypen headcanons #enhypen reactions #enhypen soft hours #enhypen soft thoughts #enhypen heeseung imagines #enhypen jake imagines #enhypen sunghoon imagines #enhypen jay imagines #enhypen sunoo imagines #enhypen jungwon imagines #enhypen niki imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen drabbles #enhypen x you #enhypen x female reader #enhypen x y/n #enhypen x reader

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svtswhorehouse · 26 days ago

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DATING MINGHAO INCLUDES…. — sfw

• indulging in his tea parties lollll.

• you actually never liked tea — always considering yourself a coffee girl until you met him. now, it’s your drink of choice.

• you’re the only person he never catches an attitude with.

• he won’t EVER judge you, even if the things you do are questionable sometimes.

• you learned how to make his favorite dishes from his hometown and it was one of the most heartwarming things anyone has ever done for him.

• you’re actually a terrible cook, but it’s the one thing you can do right and perfectly (shoutout to his mom and countless youtube videos for teaching you.)

• you raid his closet from time to time, letting him know that his fashion taste is superior whenever he complains about it.

• he secretly loves seeing you wear his clothes.

• you bought him one of those frog hats. he doesn’t necessarily like the hat, but wears it anyways because it makes you giggle.

• calm bf x hyper gf dynamic for sure. even if you are also calm, he’s a lot calmer.

• he has the habit of buying tea cups as souvenirs for you whenever he’s on tour.

• he insists that you try meditating whenever you’re feeling overwhelmed or have a bad day.

• he looks at you so fondly, it’s almost as if he has stars in his eyes.

• minghao was never one to see himself as a lovey dovey person until he met you.

• when you can’t sleep at night, he turns on ocean or rain sounds to help soothe your brain.

• when you two get into arguments, he’s a very good listener. he takes your side into account and tries to see where you’re coming from. you learned that he’s very level headed and because of this fights never get out of hand and are normally resolved very quickly.

• he always asks if you wanna come with him whenever he goes back home to china. (his parents love you and told him they wouldn’t allow him in the house if you weren’t with him.)

• your favorite dates are the ones in which he chooses and yall go to a museum. you actually don’t know what you’re looking at, but at least you’re spending time with him so you’re okay with it.

• if someone is ever rude to you, best believe minghao is not having any of it. he’s very quick to snap back, especially if it’s to protect you.

• he’s always buying you clothes. he’s quite the fashionista himself and considers himself an expert so best believe he’s going to use you as his model and dress you up.

• always looks at you questionably when you suggest something crazy, but nevertheless goes along with it just to see you smile.

• your outfits won't exactly match, but they would be coordinated somehow.

• he always finds a way to subtly include you in his instagram feed.

• definitely the type to soft launch your relationship on social media.

• he acts cool and calm when he finds out you're learning his native language for him (he's actually giggling and kicking his feet on the inside.)

• he's the logical one in your relationship.

• he knows you almost as better as you know yourself.

• your apartment hallways are filled with endless canvases that he painted for you.

• he's the type of person you can sit in a comfortable silence with.

• he always lets you do your own thing, but is a quiet protector. he always has his eyes on you whenever you two go out together and is ready to step in if you're ever uncomfortable.

• slow and sensual kisses !!!!!

• minghao takes the most perfect photos of you. he knows all your angles and how to do you justice through a camera lens.

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markscherz · 4 months ago

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Can I ask how you feel about your Tumblr fame?

I get the impression you just made this account for normal casual funsies reasons, but it kinda blew up by happenstance. If that's right, I'm curious if now you feel like it's kind of a more serious thing, where you have an opportunity to sorta act as a science communicator with a reach you otherwise might not?

Or maybe something else? You gonna see if you can somehow leverage your Tumblr fame to get research funding? Deputize us to harass polluters and developers destroying habitats? Crowdsource name ideas for new species?

It's a bit bizarre, in that it has very little real-world-ness to it. I showed my mother the ongoing tumblr celebrity poll, and she was like 'how many people could possibly be interested in frogs?', to which I replied 'well as of today about 46,000 and counting'.

I have always had an unhealthy relationship with fame. I spent most of my teen and young adult life fawning after it, as is I suppose very often the case.

More after the cut…

I always really wanted to be famous, but I was never really interested in changing who I was or what I represented in that pursuit. That is to say, I wanted to be known for what I was already doing, or for things that were already interesting for me, rather than things that might have much higher chances of success but require more effort or be less in line with the things that I am interested in.

I had my first brush with virality in 2012, when a poem I wrote went a little viral (largely thanks to StumbleUpon). I remember the rush of seeing how much attention it was getting, and staying up late to keep refreshing the page as the visitor numbers went up and up and up.

But not long after that, I had some closer encounters with fame and people becoming famous. That was extremely eye-opening. I witnessed first hand how strongly that can affect someone's life, for good and for bad. That experience also made me realise, quite jarringly, that famous people are still just people; that celebrity is something extrinsic to them; that they also wipe their own butts (if they are able); and that in many cases, it is a substantial inconvenience if not downright pain in the ass for them. I think this is why we see so many of the big celebrities having mental health crises or trying to live as much of their lives out of the public eye as possible.

That experience pretty much stifled my desire to achieve fame, and really changed my relationship with it. I should add that I could say much more on this topic, but nothing so coherent or insightful as John and Hank Green, who have given me so much clarity on this topic over the years through their thoughtful commentary on youtube and their podcasts.

Anyway, in spite of the fact that fame itself doesn't really appeal to me anymore, I do still have a problem wherein I quickly became addicted to the microdosing of euphoria associated with every reblog and like and follow. So I put huge efforts into social media in order to try to gain traction in the space that I felt I could really compete in—Very Niche SciComm™—and build up a following.

Tumblr was the first platform where I felt that really succeed; I managed to fight my way to a few thousand followers with a thick queue of regular posts about herpetology and other science. At that time, there was a great community building up in the rudimentary private messaging system—I am still friends with several other tumblr bloggers from that era (none of whom I have ever met in person). From that early time (2013), I think my most successful post was probably this one about germination of 32,000 year old seeds—a post that, as of today, has 836 notes, but at the time felt huge and exhilarating.

As I went through gradschool, I got more and more active on twitter, and less and less active on tumblr (by the time I wound down, I had about 8,000 followers on tumblr). This was partly because of the pornbot takeover on tumblr, which meant I basically could not go on the platform in public or at work, but also because the audience and interactions are just fundamentally different. Twitter had a different kind of vibe and energy than tumblr, and there were real SciComm experts there, who were doing it just completely differently. More importantly, I became more focussed on doing outreach aimed at colleagues, rather than non-experts.

Then, in 2017, I hit headlines for the first time. The description of Geckolepis megalepis made it big on social and traditional media, and I had my first experience with real media attention. I had a flurry of late-night phone-calls with journalists in the US. This was a different animal altogether than the few viral posts I had had until that point. It was extremely stressful, but exhilarating. Then in 2018, our chameleon fluorescence story made similar headlines, and in 2019 the Mini frogs, and in 2021 with gecko fluorescence and the smallest chameleon.

Seeing my name on the BBC News website and in the New York Times and National Geographic—those things have been the most surreal moments of near-fame I have experienced so far. The number of followers on social media is quite difficult to conceptualise, but seeing your own name in a media outlet that you consume regularly, or have grown up with, is more palpable.

In any case, I continued to run with twitter as my main platform for years, because I found the interaction with colleagues and other academics highly stimulating. In 2021, I even posted a twitter thread about a different species of frog from Madagascar every day for the full year. All this work was ultimately greeted with mediocre success; I just crested over 10,000 followers a few months before the Musth takeover. But then the platform became basically unusable. And in the fallout, I came back to tumblr, where, just by chance, I happened to find a post about the Mini frogs and reply to it and it went properly viral and now here we are. In the space of a year, I went from having 8000 followers to having >46,000.

How do I feel about that? It's bonkers. I think it is great that so many people are interested in hearing the Good News about frogs and other creatures. But I also feel like I am not really on the same playing field as most of the others in that poll mentioned above, in that I do not have any of the celebrity that several others have. And I know for a fact that there are fanblogs with far, far larger followings than I have. But perhaps that is the great thing about tumblr; that the playing field is somehow levelled…

What's the point of this ramble? Well, first I guess it is to outline that I have given fame a lot of thought over the years, and I have a long-standing and complicated relationship with it, and take it quite seriously. Second, to illustrate that I have been working on as a science communicator or person in outreach for many years—it has kind of been my social media brand since I started gradschool in 2013. And third, to kind of outline how we got here, because I often feel like you have to know where an arrow has come from in order to figure out which direction it will continue to fly.

You asked if I would somehow try to leverage my tumblr fame to get research funding—I already do that. In fact, my social media activity had a signfiicant role in landing me my current job, and will continue to help me achieve tenure. Outreach is an important part of my job, and funders like it too.

I would love to have the community-building power and tenacity of the brothers Green; Nerdfighteria has achieved some incredible things over the years, and the power of that community is now being seen at an unprecedented scale in their battle for equitable access for tuberculosis diagnosis and treatment. But I do not have that in me; this platform is the wrong one for community activation, and my community is still too small for that. Moreover, it is not organised or structured, in the way that I think effective deputisation would require.

As for the crowdsourcing of name ideas, that is currently off the table. I like to try to name things on my own or with my colleauges; it is a very good part of the process. And I have yet to hear a suggestion for a Mini species epithet that I had not already come up with myself, so I am not convinced that this would really augment the experience.

So for now, I hope that the main way I use the platform, and the power that comes with a few thousand followers, will be to spread the Good News about frogs and other wonderful animals, and the other kinds of science happening around us (and occasional other off-topic content). I hope that you are encouraged to explore the world around you, and to do your own reading to find out more about the subjects that interest you. And also I will continue to try to make meme-worthy content, because it does nice, if addictive, things in my brain when I get the clicks.

Thanks for asking, anon, and sorry for the Wall of Text.

#fame #famous people #celebrity #about me #science #herpetology #wall of text #long post #personal #answers by Mark #anon #anonymous

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mcytblrsexymen · 2 years ago

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thanks for playing!

(an image ID is under the cut, as well as in the image description. the artists credits and their social media links are also listed under the cut - go check them out!)

hey y'all. we've been quiet a bit. that being said, we have one last thing before we get this event behind us.

this was a really special thing to be a part of. what started as a silly joke we didn't think would get very far ended up being a cultural event within the fandom. thousands of votes, participation from everyone, a thing we'll never forget. we can't express enough how exciting it was to be a part of everything. we, the mods, had a fantastic time with everything. a once-in-a-lifetime kind of experience, you know?

but it wasn't us that made this what it was. it was you all.

we just want to say, from the bottoms of our hearts: thank you. thank you for all the campaigning - for a while, it was practically all we could see. thank you for all the fic - we have a canonized ao3 tag, that's wild. thank you for all the art - several fandoms were practically revitalized by this and it was beautiful to watch. thank you to the ccs who went along with the bit - it was a delight to have you playing in here with us. thank you for the stories you told with this. for the narratives you created. for alliances we would have never seen coming, for betrayals, and most of all for being here, together, doing this. thank you all so much for making this what it was.

anyway, so this art is my thanks to everyone. i commissioned a number of artists from as many different fandoms involved as i could find in hopes of capturing some of the chaotic energy of what might be some of the single most insane two weeks of my life. (and click on the piece so tumblr compression doesn't ruin it - there are SO MANY FANTASTIC DETAILS to look at!)

cheers, everyone. thanks for playing. you've made something special that i don't think we could ever create again, and it was a moment to remember.

<3, second and the sexyman mod team.

ART CREDITS:

confetti @bdoubleowo: goodtimeswithscar, technoblade, ldshadowlady, scott smajor

genesis frog @aroaceacacia: joe hills, saintstarling, itssubz, rtgame, composition, lighting/shading adjustments

siren @chronophobica: zombiecleo, grian, ranboo, tubbo

fluffy @fluffy-papaya: pixlriffs, vikingpilot, zloyxp, rythian

colten @malewifeph1lza: slimecicle, captainsparklez, jschlatt, dream, illumina

kish @kishdoodles and brynn @brynnticus: docm77, aimsey, mythicalsausage, orionsound, clownpierce, eddie the rabbit, owenjuicetv, seapeekay, ashswag, lighting/shading adjustments

td @paradoxalriven: quackity, ethoslab, stage

thank you <3

image ID: a portrayal of the mcytblr sexyman competition, as done by seven different artists, each with their own artstyle. it portrays many mcyters crowded around a stage, onto which a spotlight shines on the finalists. scar and joe are posing at each other in competition. to the right, quackity is climbing onto the stage, boosted by etho. around the stage there are a number of additional mcyters; technoblade, ldshadowlady, scott smajor, saintstarling, itssubz, rtgame, zombiecleo, grian, ranboo, tubbo, pixlriffs, vikingpilot, zloyxp, rythian, slimecicle, captainsparklez, jschlatt, dream, illumina, docm77, aimsey, mythicalsausage, orionsound, clownpierce, eddie the rabbit, owenjuicetv, seapeekay, and ashswag can all be seen cheering on contestants, talking to each other, and watching the competition. there are additional nondescript shadows around the stage in the background, implying an even larger crowd. the image also has the logo for the competition on it.

#mcytblr sexyman #mcyt #hermitcraft #dream smp #lifesteal smp #dominion smp #empires smp #trafficblr #joe hills #goodtimeswithscar #quackity #it feels rude to tag everyone else who is not focal so i will not #but they're all in there!

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kaioshin · 8 months ago

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I do wholeheartedly believe Laios Touden is a sick sick freak.

He's got a decent chance of defeating the dungeon lord but I definitely think this guy has like a hidden room in his spacious melini apartment that he slips into quietly each night and it is just filled with tiny little doll replicas of all the monsters he’s ever read about in his little guide and he puppets them around and mimicks their noises and shit. and sometimes he’ll send Kuro pictures of his little kobold dolls with a cube of meat or something and forget to sign the letter and pair it with like “There will always be a place for you in our party.” and then the following day Kuro will find him at the guild hall and go, “I can smell you on this,” and Laios will play it completely straight and sincere but there is this calculating almost eager look in his eyes that unsettles Kuro. and the next time Laios is in the dungeon having a little soiree with all his monsters, his beloved beloved monsters, maybe an orc will accidentally get lost on his way to one of the dungeon's randomly generated bathrooms and find that little guidebook and see all those drawings and his throat will hitch with horror. And before he can alert his clan to grab their weapons a dark silhouette will appear in the doorway and Laios looks sort of resigned when he says, “I promise I won't actually eat you” and the orc will try and pretend that it's cool, it's eat-or-be-eaten anyway but they both know better. and Laios will go (the look in his eyes back again) “We both know Marcille would kill me if she knew, right?” and he’ll grin very suddenly and the orc will laugh along very nervously and leave the room and eat some brioche Senshi made and when the evening is over he will rush over to his secret route to the fifth floor and frantically scramble through the tentacles but over the cobbles on the beautiful beautiful stairs there is the sound of footsteps. and tears are running down the orc's cheeks but he can’t say a word and Laios, emerging from the shadows in a frog suit, will gently touch him on the shoulder and say, “I have a spare if you want it” and the orc will try to refuse but they both know it’s futile. and, halfway through the climb, Laios will smile and say, “I always wanted to taste orc sweat” and then perfectly jump after his sword that just started freaking out and flying for some reason, wiping off his rabbit-proof armor, while the orc accidentally triggers a trap Chilchuck wasn't there to disable, bursting into flames

#1000 #dungeon meshi #labru #(to me)

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honeekyuu · 4 months ago

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love affair. [tsukishima kei x f!reader] chapter three.

>>The unsavory reputation that Tsukishima Kei has built for himself as the Sendai Frogs' rudest rookie puts his upcoming contract renewal at risk

Tsukki really needs a girlfriend, and you really need everyone to stop calling you his pathetic, pining best friend<<

series status: [complete]

previous. || masterlist.

a/n: dont talk to me about that scene after he wakes up and gets angry in her bed okay dont fucking talk to me about it,,,,, that was the filthiest non-smut scene ive ever written

[feel free to buy me a cup of coffee!]

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

Kei stays at your apartment until the end of the semester.

He goes home a couple times a week, of course – he has to do laundry, and he and Yamaguchi have a pre-set Tuesday night plan of sitting on the couch and playing video games until it’s late enough that Tadashi almost always sleeps through his first class on Wednesdays.

But… he somehow finds himself in your bed every other night of the week.

The first two weeks or so, he comes up with excuses.

‘ It’s getting cold, and your heating hasn’t kicked in yet. ’

‘ If I go home this late, it’ll wake Yamaguchi. ’

‘ We’re going out in the morning, anyway. It only makes sense. ’

He does it until, one morning, you roll over and lean your chin on his chest, looking up at him with those doe eyes he likes so much.

‘ You do realize I’ve already agreed to let you keep staying here, right? We talked about it that first morning.’

He’d remembered. He just hadn’t been sure if you’d meant it. But since you’d brought it up again, he’d stopped asking. He’d just allowed himself to get used to falling asleep and waking up next to you.

It makes sleeping on his own for two nights a week utter hell. He can’t get to sleep no matter what he tries. The only thing that works is falling asleep on a video call with you, like a stupid, lovesick teenager. He’s terrified you’ll tell Kiyoko, who would immediately tell Yamaguchi, who would never let him live it down. But it seems you’re just as shy about it, about the fact that you’ve become dependent on each other to do something as simple as sleep.

And sleep is all you do. He’s never dared to cross a line with you in bed. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t try anything, not there, and he’s stuck to it. He lets himself kiss you stupid on the couch before bed, and in your kitchen when you make him coffee before class, and against the wall of your bathroom when your outfit and makeup look a little too good on you.

But never in bed. It’s too tempting – you’re too tempting. And you have no fucking clue.

You just prance around your apartment in those stupid little shorts, with your stupid little smile and that stupid little way you say his name–

‘ Tsukki!’, your giggle excited and your eyes bright.

‘Hey, Tsukki-’, your tone distracted while you sort through mail.

‘Tsukki…’, your eyes wide and your voice whiny while you ask him for something.

It drives him crazy. It makes him want to grab your face and kiss the pout right off your mouth. It makes him want to buy and do anything you want, even when you want nothing at all. It makes him want to whisper your name and admit things that he shouldn’t.

But nothing makes him want to do any of those things more than when you say his name properly, with a little edge in your voice.

‘ Tsukishima.’ , your hands on your hips and your eyebrows arched in annoyance.

‘I swear, Tsukishima- ’, your breath sharp and shallow because you’re stopping yourself from picking a fight.

‘ Tsukishima… ’, your lips close and your eyes twinkling with amusement, because you remember the things he’d been drunk enough to admit at that party.

When the syllables of his name stack in your mouth like that, he’s overcome with thoughts that one should never have about a friend. Thoughts of pinning you up against the wall and daring you to say his name like that again. Thoughts of bending you over the side of the couch and showing you just how in charge you really are. Thoughts of kissing you in that tiny bed, and then making you cry in it, your face buried in the sheets and his name – ‘ Tsukki, please- ’ – whined so prettily.

But he doesn’t do any of that. He just watches you use his name in that scolding, reprimanding way, and he smiles. He sits there and smiles and pretends that every fiber of his very being isn’t aching to show you how to use that smart ass mouth of yours.

And yet, despite the torture, he stays. He stays, waking up next to you every morning and enduring the pain of your presence, and he has no idea why. Maybe it’s the way you hum to yourself while you make breakfast and wince when your coffee’s too hot, because it somehow always is. Maybe it’s the way you think aloud when you do chores, your grocery list rattled off while you stand in the corner folding laundry. Maybe it’s the way you gravitate toward him as if on some biological clock, every half hour marked by your fingers combing through his hair while he works or your arms wrapping around him from behind while he’s putting his shoes on to leave for practice.

Maybe it’s the way you treat him exactly the same but completely different.

You’re the girl he’s always known, rolling those pretty little eyes and telling him without hesitation when he’s being an idiot. You still judge him when he says stupid shit, and you’re still strong about your boundaries and your ability to hold a grudge. But… something’s different.

You sit closer lately, your legs draped over his knee and your side pressed against his. You let him kiss you even when you’re mad, and sometimes – sometimes — that’s all it takes to get you to forgive him. You call him on your way home from class – not because you have anything specific to say, but because you simply feel like talking his ear off while you walk.

He’s not sure which of these things is the reason he stays, but he thinks about every single one. He thinks about them, and he seeks them out. He calls you on the days that you forget to call him yourself. He takes his headphones off if he sees you go into the kitchen, because the chance of hearing you hum off-key is high. He gravitates to you when you’re too immersed in work to pay attention to him, his body draping over yours. He pulls you into the spot between his legs when you watch TV, because sometimes, having your legs hooked over his knee isn’t enough. Sometimes, he wants your back against his chest and your thighs in his hands, your head against his shoulder and your breathing synchronized with his own.

God, he thinks he’s obsessed with you.

Maybe that’s why – on Friday nights, when Yamaguchi and Kiyoko come over – his roommate always looks at him a little too long, the freckled boy staring in suspicion. Tadashi plays along with Kiyoko’s jokes about the two of you, but his eyes are always narrowed when no one’s looking, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips before he looks away. And, when Kei inevitably mumbles that he’ll be staying the night instead of going home with Yamaguchi, maybe that’s why his roommate always meets his eyes evenly, like he’d been expecting it.

Maybe that’s why, on a Saturday morning in mid-December, he finally gets tired of watching your body insecurity get in the way of everything. In the way of that stupid little smile he’s starting to fall for, in the way of the sweet way you say his name. In the way of you seeing how painfully obvious it is that he’s obsessed with you.

It’s that Saturday morning in mid-December that he finally loses his mind, in that tiny bed with you.

–

He wakes on that cold morning to you shifting beside him, wrapped up in his arms. Your back is pressed to his chest, one of his arms wrapped snugly around your middle and the other tucked under your head. You wriggle against him, and, in his half-groggy state, he genuinely wonders if you’re trying to start something with him (later, he chalks that one up to wishful thinking).

You shift again, your hips moving under his arm, and he hums.

“‘s up?” He says, sighing into your hair and pulling you tighter against him. You curve your back protectively when he does, one of your hands coming down on his wrist.

“Uhm,” You mumble. “Can you… Uhm-”

It’s the discomfort in your voice that clues him into the fact that something’s going on with you.

He peels one eye open and examines you, and, when he still doesn’t understand what’s happening, he opens his other eye and lifts his head. You’re holding your phone with one hand, the screen displaying a comment posted under a photo of the two of you.

[8:54 AM] keisgirl : is it me, or is she gaining weight?????

It’s one of the most-liked comments, with the replies underneath it varying from neutral agreement to outright hateful bullshit.

You haven’t realized that he’s seen your phone. “Could you let me go, please?” You ask, in a voice so small and vulnerable that he’s tempted to listen to you. But he doesn’t, because he knows what this is. This is you falling back in on yourself, closing your body off to him because you don’t want him to touch or look at you.

He sits up quickly, ignoring the noise of surprise you make when his arm slides out from under your head. He snatches your phone away and turns his back to you, scrolling through the comments.

“Tsukki-” You say, recovering and sitting up. You press your chest to his shoulder, reaching for your phone, but he just brushes your hand away, shamelessly pulling up the rest of your open tabs. He knows he shouldn’t, but he needs to check.

Unfortunately, he knows you a little too well.

The Trajectory of Frogs’ Tsukishima Kei’s Relationship with Plus-Sized Girlfriend: Will They Last?

Y/l/n Y/n: In Love or Gold-Digging?

How to Lose Weight in Time for the Holidays

30 Pounds in 30 Days: New Diet Takes World by Storm

Kei’s not sure he’s ever been this angry before. He stares emptily down at your phone, finally letting you pluck it out of his open palm. His hands shake just slightly, and he knows you can see them by how still you are.

“ Tsukki, ” You whisper after a moment. “I-”

“Are you out of your mind?” He says, his voice devoid of emotion.

“I just-”

He whirls on you, eyes alight. “Are you out of your mind , Y/n?” He jabs a finger at your phone. “What are you gonna do, starve yourself because of something that someone on the internet said?”

“It’s not just one person,” You argue weakly. “I’ve been gaining wei-”

“So?” He barks. “So what? I can’t tell.”

You roll your eyes, and he actually feels his eye twitch. “I think you’re a little biased, Tsukki-”

“No,” He says. Laughs, because you’re really going to make him lose it this time. “No, I’m not biased. I’m important.” He rips your phone from your hand again, dropping it on the nightstand as he turns in place and climbs over you. “After everything, you still listen to a bunch of shitheads who know nothing about you. And then you call me biased, because I have an accurate fucking opinion about how you look.”

You gasp when he puts a hand on your shoulder, shoving you down on the mattress. He grabs your thighs and pries them open, settling himself between them. “Why did you want me to let you go, Y/n?”

You swallow hard. “I… I don’t know-”

“You didn’t want me to touch you. Why?” He anchors his hands to your waist, dragging you toward him. “Did you think I was suddenly going to change my mind if I could feel your body? That I was going to feel you under my hands and realize that I was repulsed by you? That I only like you with your clothes on, that I hadn’t considered what might be under them? Is that what you were scared of?”

You don’t answer him for a moment, so he grips your hips tight, his thumbs sure to leave prints on your skin later. “Yes,” You whisper finally, shutting your eyes. “I just… don’t feel pretty-”

“Look at me,” He says, a heated sigh leaving him. You don’t, so he tugs on your thighs hard. “ Look at me, Y/n.”

You pry your eyes open, staring into his own with trepidation.

“Now listen to what I’m about to say to you,” He snaps. “Can you do that, for once ? Or are you going to keep acting stupid? Because I’m not in the habit of having stupid friends.”

Your brow furrows in irritation, and he’s glad to see it. He’s glad to see anything that isn’t that haunting insecurity. He sits back on his heels, keeping his eyes locked on yours.

“What you seem to be fundamentally misunderstanding, Y/n-” He growls. “-is the idea that the way you look and the way you’re shaped is something that is, without a doubt, unattractive. You think your body is something that no one would ever want to touch — you don’t seem to fucking comprehend that some people might like the way you feel.”

He squeezes your hips once. “ Some people might like that they can hold you like this – that the more of you that there is, the more that they can hold while they fuck you.” Your face is starting to turn red, and he feels immense pride for it. He anchors himself to you, shifting his weight and dragging you down against his hips, over and over again. “ Some people want to see what your body looks like when it bounces like this, Y/n-” You’re starting to gasp, and Kei’s unable to stop the way his eyes trail down the length of your body while he moves you.

“Some people are obsessed with the idea of making you look like this,” He says, his own breath coming short for a moment. “Because some people want to rail you, and no one could ever look as good getting railed as you would.”

“Tsukki,” You whisper, your chest rising and falling sharply with each gasp. He stops moving you – lets you breathe for just a moment – and slides his hands up your sides, his palms absorbing the heat in your skin while his fingers fan out greedily over your ribs. Your shirt rises with his movement, and he stops when the fabric is bunched up under your breasts. His fingertips skim the skin there, notably missing that lacy underwire that’s always kept him at bay.

He’d noticed that you don’t wear a bra to bed – of course you don’t, that would be unreasonable to expect, even with him here – but fuck, if he isn’t just now realizing what that means. He chews on the inside of his bottom lip, eyeing you hungrily.

The moment to breathe seems to have been enough for you, because your fingers close around his wrists. His first thought is that you’re stopping him from going further, that maybe he should back off. But you don’t push him away.

If anything, your eyes seem glazed over with desire, your breath still coming a little short.

“ Tsukki ,” You breathe, shifting your hips against his carefully — there’s no way you can’t feel how hard he is right now. Your voice is quiet, like before, but now there’s more. More, like you want him to keep talking to you.

He can do that.

“Do you believe me yet?” He says. His voice shakes with his breath, and he swallows hard to hide how you’re affecting him. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

When you don’t answer him this time, he can’t tell if it’s because you really don’t have an answer, or if it’s because you’re fucking with him. Because the way your eyes drag down his body – the way you open your thighs an inch more and press your hips against his gently, an invitation – makes him think you might be fucking with him.

“I’m just,” You mumble, your legs starting to wrap around his waist. “I dunno, Tsukki.”

You must be fucking with him.

“No?” He says, his hands sliding down to hook under your thighs and peel them off of him. Your eyes widen, his own narrowing. He extracts himself from between your legs, as much as he doesn’t want to, and tosses your legs sideways onto the bed. You gasp, alarmed, and he grips your waist, hoisting you up by force and turning you over. You scramble to catch yourself, your hands and knees hitting the mattress.

“What-”

Kei sits up behind you, finding his place on your hips again and yanking you back. Your ass presses against him, and he holds you there, no matter how hard you wriggle. Your heavy breathing is audible, and he’s thankful for it, because the way you’re moving against him is not making his own breath very quiet at all.

“Still not sure, sweetheart?” He says, flattening a hand against your back and pushing down on it. You collapse on your elbows with a yelp, and he slides his fingers up and takes a fistful of your hair. “How about this-” He snaps his hips forward, feeling his thighs slap against yours and your ass ripple from the force. You choke out a moan, and he does it again, against his better judgment.

“You think the right guy wouldn’t die to feel you like this, Y/n? You think he wouldn’t do anything for a chance to make you sound like this?”

You moan again in response, and his stomach flips with excitement – because the syllables that had just stacked in your mouth were undeniably those of his own name.

He rocks his hips into yours again as he uses his hold on your hair to yank you up. Your breath catches in your throat, and you lift up blindly, so trusting and sweet while he pulls you back against his chest.

“What was that, princess?” He says, breathless and embarrassingly eager. “What’d you say?”

Your lips purse, and he knows he was right, because you’re looking up at him with embarrassment. He releases your hair, his hand coming down to wrap around the column of your throat. He stares down into your eyes, feeling your pulse skip under his palm.

“ Again, Y/n ,” He whispers, watching goosebumps break out over your skin. Two syllables fill your mouth, the same he’d heard the first time.

“ Tsukki.”

He’s so fucked.

Releasing you, he plants a hand on your back and shoves you onto your stomach, handling you roughly as he turns you back around. He clambers between your legs, relishing the way your thighs open and wrap around his waist, so welcoming. He cages you in, hovering over you as he stares. You stare back, eyes wide and breath short.

And then he stops, because he knows he should.

He has to.

“Is this okay?” He whispers, eyes searching your face. You seem taken aback by his question, your brow furrowing.

And then you blink, and your eyes clear.

And, for all that he’s silently begging you to say yes – begging for this to be such a simple choice for you – he’s glad he asked. Because he can see the realization starting to hit you. That this will go somewhere, somewhere fast and irreversible, if you say yes.

You swallow, and then your eyes look away from his, and he takes that as his answer.

“Okay,” He sighs, hanging his head. “Okay.” He starts to lift away from you, but your hands are on his biceps.

“Wait.” You search him anxiously. “Tsukki, I- I just…”

“I know,” He says, nodding. He’s a little disappointed — mostly just a little hard and more than a little horny — but there’s no world in which he’d rather you do something you’re not sure about. “It’s okay. I know. That’s why I asked.”

You look like you want to cry. “Are you mad at me?”

He glares down at you. “Seriously?”

“I feel like I led you on-”

“Y/n, of course I’m not fucking mad at you.” He sighs, slowly extracting himself from between your thighs and sitting beside you. “I’m not that guy-”

“I know!” You sit up on your knees, hands on his shoulders. “I know, Tsukki. I just… Are we good?”

He laughs tiredly, dropping his head back against the wall. “ Yes , Y/n. We’re good. I’m not gonna make you do something you’re not ready for.”

You shake him. “But are we good, Tsukki? Us?”

He looks at you, taking you in. You look so scared. And as much as he wants to yell at you, to snap at you for being this worried that he would be upset with you over this, he knows he can’t. Not when you’re this scared.

“Will you please stop listening to other people? I really can’t keep doing this. I mean it this time,” He says. You pause, and then you nod. He lifts his brows. “You believe me? You trust me?”

You give him a shy laugh, your face radiating heat. “I think you kind of… made it clear what you think. I believe you, Tsukki.”

He tries to fight the blush that’s rising. He’d really lost his mind there. “Then, yes,” is all he says, pushing your hair behind your ear and taking your face in one hand. “We’re good. I promise.”

You sniffle, but you nod, and the doe eyes you give him make his heart skip. “Okay. Thank you. I… I’ll be ready soon, I swear-”

“You don’t have to promise me something like that, Y/n. You don’t have to be ready soon, and it doesn’t even have to be me.” He bumps his forehead against yours, the closest he can come right now to shaking you in frustration.

“It’ll be you,” You admit, glancing away nervously. Kei thinks his heart actually stops in his chest when he hears that.

“You’re… Are you sure?” He says, barely a whisper. “It doesn’t have to be.”

You just laugh, watery and sweet and perfectly capable of killing him where he sits. “Of course it’ll be you. Don’t be stupid.”

“ Me? ” He can’t help but laugh, sharp and full of disbelief. “You’re telling me not to be stupid? Are you joking?”

When he ropes you into his arms and starts berating you for being stupid, you only giggle and let him, and he thinks — not to be dramatic or anything — that he might just do anything to hear that sound for the rest of his life.

He’s so fucked.

–

He goes home later that day, to get some more clothes and because Tadashi’s going home for Christmas.

When he enters the townhouse – brushing off the paparazzi at the gate asking if he plans to move in with you since he’s spending so much time at your place – he finds his roommate rushing around the house in a flurry of open suitcases and screaming.

“Uh-” Kei ducks as a pair of boxers goes flying over his head. “Are you okay ?”

“ I overslept! ” Yamaguchi screeches from upstairs. “ I stayed on the phone with Lev too late last night, and now I’m going to miss the train! ”

Kei lifts his brows, finding a safe place in the armchair and watching the destruction unfold in their living room. “So… things are good with him, then?” Yamaguchi had been on a few dates with the aspiring model since Halloween, and Kei had heard him talking recently about officially seeing him. “Gonna introduce him to your family soon?”

“ You shut your ass! ” Tadashi yells. “ I’d say the same about you and Y/n, but your family already knows her! Didn’t she have a massive crush on Aki when we were kids?! ”

Kei flushes, scrubbing at his brow. “We’re not dating, Dashi,” He murmurs. “And, yes, she did. It was annoying.” Tadashi reenters the room at a high speed, flying down the stairs with clothes piled high in his arms.

“You sure about that?”

“About the two years she was convinced she would marry my brother? Yes, I’m sure.”

“About you dating, dumbass.”

Kei sighs. “I know. I’m sure about that, too.”

“Doesn’t look that way to me or Kiyoko.” His roommate shrugs, reconsidering one of his shirts and tossing it on the couch.

“Yeah?” Kei laughs nervously. “How’s it look?”

“Looks like you’re madly in love with her, to be really honest-” Tadashi cuts off, seeing Kei pick up the throw pillow behind him. “ Don’t give me brain damage right now, please. I’m too busy.”

“I’m not in love with her,” Kei mumbles, setting the pillow in his lap.

“Dude, you’re obsessed with her.” Tadashi sits on his pile of clothes, shoving it into his suitcase with his ass. “You’d bottle her farts and smell them throughout the day if you could.”

“You’re really romantic, you know that? Lev into that kinda thing?” Kei says, growing frustrated. He knows he’s obsessed with you. He knows . He’d all but admitted it to you in bed this morning.

“Look,” Tadashi says, running into the bathroom and throwing literal bottles out the door and across the length of the living room. Kei watches, impressed, as he racks up a high success rate of getting them in his suitcase. “You’re staying at her place all the time, you only come home to get clothes-”

“And for our Tuesday nights!”

“-you fall asleep on the phone with her if you do sleep here-”

“Who told you that!”

“-and your face turns a really weird shade of red whenever I bring this up.” Tadashi points at him now. “Kinda like that.”

It is rather warm in here.

“Just think about it,” Tadashi continues, slamming his suitcase shut and zipping it up with shockingly minimal struggle. “You have all of Christmas Break. Kiyoko’s busy with Kyoutani, and I won’t be here, so you don’t need to come home at all.” He stands the suitcase up with a huff and then stares down at it with hands on his hips, proud of his work. “Kiyoko tells me Y/n’s also having a hard time.”

Kei perks up, following him to the foyer and watching him put his coat on. The words ‘ it’ll be you ’ float through his head, and it’s suddenly a lot warmer in here. “What’d she say?”

Yamaguchi eyes him. “Exactly what I just told you. That you two are acting like idiots who don’t know how to speak to each other.” He rolls his suitcase to the door. “Stop dancing around each other and make this official. Not labeling things is going to end up with one or both of you heartbroken.”

So you had talked to Kiyoko about this.

Yamaguchi leans in, squeezing Kei in a tight hug and then slapping him on the back. “Go get ‘em, Tiger-er. Frog.”

And then he’s gone, leaving Kei staring at the front door with a mumbled ‘ have a safe trip ’ echoing in the empty foyer.

–

Tsukki stays with you through Christmas.

After that morning in your bed, you have an irrational worry that – when he goes home to say bye to Yamaguchi – he might never come back. You pace your apartment for an hour after he’s gone, eventually calling Kiyoko to freak out. You severely regret that decision, because she spends the better half of another hour laughing in your ear about how you’d almost fucked your best friend. She does calm down, eventually, and it’s to remind you that Tsukki’s never lied to you.

He’s never lied to you, and he’d told you he wasn’t mad at you, so you have to believe him. You have to believe him about everything , because that’s all he’s asking of you.

So you hang up the phone, wishing Kiyoko ‘ good luck and good fucking ’ before she leaves for a date with Kyoutani, and you sit on the couch with the TV on. You stare at the screen and pretend to know what’s happening, only checking your phone sixteen times over the course of another few hours. And when there’s a knock at your door, you only pounce off the couch before catching yourself, managing not to run all the way to the door.

And, God, are you glad that you did everything you could to remain calm. Because, when you open the door, Tsukki’s standing there holding dinner and looking through his duffel bag like he’s checking that he didn’t forget anything. He’s standing there, completely normal, like you hadn’t all but asked him to fuck you and then promptly rejected him only hours earlier.

He just looks at you, hair dusted with snow and nose tipped red from the cold, and asks if you’re okay. Because you’re just standing there staring at him like it’s Christmas morning, not letting him in. You do let him in, and you eat dinner together, and then you go to bed together. And you’re scared that being in that bed with him again might be awkward, but he just climbs sleepily between your legs and falls asleep with his head on your chest.

It doesn’t come up again until Christmas Day.

—

On Christmas morning, you wake to the conflicting smell of coffee and something burning. Sitting up, you look directly into the kitchen, seeing smoke and a towel waving through the air.

“What are you doing?” You gasp, rolling out of bed and rushing over to where Tsukki is coughing and waving his arms.

“My fucking best!” He sputters, fanning a hand in front of his face. “What does it look like?”

You round the bar, yanking the smoking pan off the stove and dumping its contents in the trash. You roll your eyes when he whines ‘ my beautiful breakfast’ somewhere behind you. “What were you trying to make?”

“Eggs,” He grumbles, and you can’t help but shoot him an amused grin.

“Finally, something the Great Tsukishima Kei absolutely sucks at.”

“I suck at most things that aren’t volleyball and school.”

“Well, thank God for that,” You snicker, throwing the pan back on the stove and turning to plant a kiss on his mouth. “If you’re gonna be good at something, I would hope it’d be your job .”

He grumbles briefly but just wraps his arms around your waist and follows you around the kitchen, severely interfering with your ability to cook an actual breakfast.

“Speaking of my job…” He starts, his voice muffled in your shoulder. “I think they’re supposed to let me know soon about the contract.”

You turn in his arms, setting the carton of eggs down. “Really? When?”

“Dunno. But it’s the end of the year, so…” He looks indifferent about it, but you can see that he’s worried that they haven’t said anything so close to New Year’s Eve.

“Okay. I’m sure they’re just finalizing things, that’s all.” You card your fingers through his hair and pull him in, kissing him gently. “Do you wanna go out tonight? For dinner?”

He smiles against your mouth. “You askin’ me on a Christmas date? So cliche, princess.”

There’s no amount of money in the world that could make you admit to him how fluttery those words make you. You just kiss him again, letting him back you into the counter.

“Maybe,” You mumble. “Pick a place. My treat.”

“You’re funny,” His mouth drops to your neck. “Thinking I’d ever let you pay for anything while I’m around.”

“You let me pay for coffee that one day,” You argue pointlessly, your breath short from the way he’s nibbling on your skin.

“That’s because you’re a two-faced liar who hides the important things in a relationship.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” You coo jokingly. “Can I make it up to you?”

He groans, laughing after. “You know exactly how that sounded.”

“Yep,” You say, finally pushing him off of you and returning to the eggs on the counter. “Pick somewhere nice for dinner. It’s Christmas!”

He grumbles through the morning, your giggles filling the rest of the air, and you exchange gifts after breakfast. You’d made him a photo album of all the most ridiculous pictures you’ve taken together over the last few months. He’d gotten you a necklace that he’d watched you ogle in the window every single time you’d passed by, always claiming that it was too expensive and that you didn’t need it, anyway. He helps you put it on – kissing down the curve of your neck and over your shoulders and whispering that you’re even prettier now – and you sit in his lap with the photo album open, trying your very hardest not to kiss him silly every time he laughs that bright, genuine laugh that always makes your heart beat harder.

Around dinnertime, you get ready, asking what kind of restaurant he’d picked and rolling your eyes when all he says is ‘ a nice one ’. You pull out your best dress – a floor-length, wine red little number – and then you watch as Tsukki loses all concentration, his tie dangling pathetically in his hands.

“Ready?” You say, stepping out of bathroom as you finish pinning your hair up. His eyes drag down the length of you, and then he shakes his head dumbly.

“Not even a little bit.”

You make fun of him all the way to his car, brushing your mouth over his in the elevator and watching with a smirk as he fights the urge to chase after you when you pull away.

The dinner goes perfectly – it’s an upscale spot that serves way too little food on plates that are way too big, but Tsukki holds your hand the whole time and looks at you like he’s never looked at you before. It makes you nervous, but he just smiles when you blush, mumbling that he likes that look on your face. You wonder what’s gotten into him, but you decide to let it go in favor of sharing a glass of wine with him and giggling when his face starts to flush from the alcohol.

He’s decently nice to the reporters outside the restaurant, either feeling relaxed from the drink or too busy pulling you away from Nariko, who you’re chatting up with a wine-tinted bubbliness that makes the other reporters scowl. She just squeezes your arm and tell you to have a merry Christmas, and Tsukki busies himself with leading you by the hand down to his car. You don’t see it, but you find out a few hours later on Twitter that he’d pulled a wad of cash out of his pocket and stuffed it in Nariko’s hand, telling her to go home to her family for the holidays. The pictures online had all shown Nariko’s awe-stricken face and the jealousy of much meaner reporters who’d never gotten the time of day from Tsukishima Kei.

He takes you to a pizza place down the street after leaving the restaurant, where you split a large supreme pizza and complain about how little food there was at the expensive place. You ask if they charge for air, and he jokes that they probably charge for smelling the food. You crack shitty jokes and fight over the last slice, and then you watch with thinly veiled affection as Tsukki signs the t-shirts of some young boys who’ve run over from the next booth over. He even gives them a small smile when they say he’s their favorite Frogs player, and then he gives you a large one when they turn to you and ask what it’s like to date someone famous.

‘ It’s a pretty sweet gig, ’ You tell them, leaning in conspiratorially. They lean in, too, eyes twinkling. ‘ I get to see a side of him that no one else does. Kind of like having a secret identity.’

They run off, claiming to their mother that Tsukki’s a superhero. Or a spy. They can’t decide.

Tsukki takes you home soon after, intertwining his fingers with yours and running his lips back and forth over your knuckles absentmindedly while he drives. When you get home, you change into sweats and take all your makeup off, realizing only then that Tsukki looks at you the same way even while you stand there in old, ratty clothes and mascara smeared under your eyes.

He just watches you, his eyes flicking away but always coming back, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“What’s with you, tonight, huh?” You finally say, curled up against his side. There’s some trashy movie on, but you can’t bring yourself to focus – not with him sliding his fingertips across the strip of skin that peeks out from under your shirt, over and over again until you start to shiver with each pass.

“Nothing,” He says, glancing down at you and then back at the TV. “Just… I dunno, it’s Christmas.”

You smile up at him, your eyes twinkling. “You’ve never been one for Christmas spirit , Kei.”

“Well, maybe I am now.” He rolls his eyes. “It’s nice to just spend it with you and do nothing else.”

“We spend every Christmas together,” You argue, smiling wider when he just squeezes you.

“‘s different,” He mumbles. You give up on bullying him, your heart warming and your skin prickling with happiness. It is different. Things are different. Every moment with him feels realer than the last, like you could do anything with him because you know it’ll be okay.

You look up at him, examining the way his lips start to tug up when he senses you watching him. Finally, his eyes drop to yours, honey-golden and warm, and you lean up to kiss him.

You barely manage to brush your lips to his when his phone rings in his pocket.

He leans back but keeps his eyes on your mouth while he extracts his phone, not looking at the Caller ID before lifting it to his ear.

“Hello?” He watches your mouth still, distracted.

And then he blinks, eyebrows furrowing as he looks away.

“Okay..?” He says, retracting his arm from your waist and standing slowly. Your heart starts to drop as you watch him pace the space between the couch and your bed. Who is he talking to? Is something wrong?

“Okay,” Tsukki says, blinking rapidly. “Okay. Yeah. Yeah. Okay.” He sighs. “Yeah. That’s-Thank you.”

And then he hangs up, and you watch him stare down at his phone, eyes wide with disbelief.

“Tsukki…?” You whisper after a moment, officially worried. When he looks at you, though, you see it.

The relief in his eyes.

“They’re signing me.” He stares. You stare back. And then his mouth breaks in a smile, and he looks you over. “They’re signing me, Y/n. They’re throwing an event on New Year’s Eve.”

“What?!” You jump over the back of the couch, launching yourself at him. He hoists you up and laughs, that beautiful, bright laugh that you can’t live without now. “Tsukki!” You wrap your legs around his waist, burying your face in his neck and squealing.

“Holy shit,” He breathes, laughing in disbelief. “Holy shit, we did it.” And then, when you lift your head to smile down at him, he uses one hand to grab the back of your head and drag you in for a kiss. “ Fuck, we did it. You did that ,” He mumbles against you. “ Thank you. ”

You shake your head, dropping your legs and kissing him while he sets you down. “ You did that, Tsukki,” You say, turning and heading into the kitchen. “You’re amazing, you know that?” You search through cabinets, extracting two bottles of wine. You brandish them at him with a grin. “We have to celebrate!”

He looks between the two bottles, chewing on his bottom lip, but you see the smile peek through after a second. “Yeah… Yeah, I’d say both bottles are necessary.”

“To celebrate. Properly,” You justify.

His grin is wide now. “Properly.”

–

Celebrating properly ends up – somehow, some way – involving Tsukki’s lips on your throat and his fingers tangled in your hair. He smells like wine, and your head is swimming from him and the alcohol.

You’re laid back on the couch, hair fanning out around you and legs wrapped around him. He’s got his other hand on your waist, inching higher and higher every few seconds and taking your shirt with it.

“ Tsukki ,” You whisper, your fingers locked in his hair and your back arched until your chest presses to his. “ Please. ”

He groans against your throat. “ We can’t ,” He slurs, shaking his head. “‘r not ready-”

You whine, using your grip on his hair to pull his head back up. You kiss him heatedly, moaning when your shirt bunches up around your breasts, his fingers stalling there but sliding hesitantly under the hem.

“Doesn’t have to be-” Your breath stutters, because his hips are moving unconsciously against yours, and you can feel how hard he is. “Doesn’t have to be everything-”

He seems to like that answer, his kiss growing rushed. “Really? You sure?”

“Yeah-yes-” You nod furiously. “Please. Please. ”

He sighs roughly, pulling away from you and sitting up. You barely have time to breathe before you’re being lifted through the air and dragged into his lap. You gasp, your head spinning, as he turns you quickly in place. Your back slams against his chest, and his mouth drops to the junction of your throat.

You reach up, carding your fingers through his hair. “Tsukki,” You sigh, feeling his heart beating against your back. He slides his arms around your waist.

“You’re sure?” He asks again, his voice low and humming through your skin. You nod, eyes half-closed and staring blankly at the movie that’d you’d lost track of a long time ago. You sigh in relief and close your eyes when he pushes his lips against your throat, the scene in front of you lost as you breathe him in.

With your eyes shut, you feel him more intensely. The warmth of his lips on your skin, the way his hands start to slide across your sides, your t-shirt falling over his wrists. He stops just below your breasts, nipping his teeth on your throat to get your attention.

“ Last chance ,” He whispers.

You arch your back, grinding your ass subtly back into him. You feel his cock twitch against it, and he bites down harder on your shoulder.

“Was that your answer?” He breathes, his hands growing more certain on your skin.

“ God , Kei,” You laugh. “Do something before I do.”

You feel him smile before anything else.

He slides one hand back down around your waist, using his arm to anchor you to him. His other hand slides up, and you gasp, feeling his palm cup your breast.

“ Oh -” You arch your back again, your head falling back against his shoulder. You’d noticed how big his hands are over the months together, but you’d never really realized .

He keeps you flush to him while his fingers roam eagerly over your chest, the pads of his fingertips rough and calloused from volleyball. He kneads one breast, his palm as searing hot as the kisses he trails along your throat, and then he switches to the other. His fingers tweak and pluck at your nipples, teeth blunt on your shoulder and his other arm holding you tight as you start to wriggle and moan.

You dig your hands into his thighs, the fabric of his sweats balled up in your fists. Your head swims, face warm and skin sweaty, and you loll your head back and forth on his shoulder. “Tsukki, please,” You moan, unconsciously spreading your thighs and pushing them against his. He notices, the hand on your waist squeezing once.

“Want more, princess?”

“Please, fuck-” You want to growl when he takes his hands off of you, but the brief disappointment is replaced with a distinct thumping of your heart when he hooks both hands under your knees and pries your thighs open, hanging your legs over the sides of his knees. You feel briefly vulnerable sitting like this, but he just slides his hand back under your shirt and continues to play with you.

“Comfortable?” He asks, his other hand toying with the waistband of your pants. You nod, your breathing growing heavy when his thumb slips under the band. “You sure?”

“Tsukishima, I swear-” You gasp, feeling him tug hard on your nipple. He snickers against your shoulder, whispering ‘ so easy ’ into your skin as he pushes his other hand past the band of your sweats. He doesn’t bother stopping there, fingertips slipping past your panties and finally pausing right over where you need him.

“ Mm- ” You purse your lips hard to keep from moaning too loud. But your head fills with static and your stomach flips over itself again and again while he swipes teasing circles over your clit.

“C’mon, princess,” He breathes smugly into your ear, but you hear him swallow hard as his fingers dip lower and slide through your folds. “You’re not gonna let me hear you? After everything?”

His fingertips are hot against you, and you become suddenly aware of how much larger his fingers are than yours. You feel — horrified, truly — as you become wetter against his hand. Tsukki’s smile is wide against the shell of your ear.

“What happened, baby?” He whispers, nudging the tip of his middle finger against your entrance. “If there’s something you want, you gotta ask for it.”

You just lift your hands to your face, hiding. Tsukki lifts his own hand away from you before coming down quickly, the slap sharp against your core. You yelp, hands flying to hold onto his arms and face burning as he soothes the pain by running his fingers through your folds. There’s a soft squelch that echoes in the room and makes him chuckle low against your head.

“ I think your pretty little pussy likes me, princess ,” He whispers, the hand on your chest sliding up through the collar of your shirt and resting on the base of your throat. “ Better ask fast, before I lose interest. ”

You whine, your heart pounding against his hand. “Please, Tsukki…”

“Yeah?”

You tighten your hold on his arms, nervous. “Please finger me?”

“Aw,” He coos, laughing gently as he swipes more circles over your clit, still gentle. “That’s so sweet, baby. But you can do better.”

“What?” You whine, turning your head and burying your face in his neck. Your throat pushes further into his hand, and you feel yourself get impossibly wetter when he tightens his grip.

“You can ask better than that,” He mumbles, and you feel his cock twitch against your back when you clench, his fingers sliding patiently back and forth.

“Uhm-” You shudder, because he’s switched to flicking his fingertips against your clit. “I-”

“ Come on, Y/n, ” He whispers against your head. He starts to tap his fingers, one and then the other. “ I’ll stop if you don’t ask soon.”

Your heart wrenches in your chest, and you shake your head. “Please don’t-”

“Then ask me-”

“I did- ”

“ Ask me, Y/n- ”

“ Please , Tsukki!” You yell, squeezing your eyes shut and trying not to think about how your voice bounces on the walls. “I need you to stuff your fingers in my cunt and fuck me before I lose my fucking mind -”

He groans loudly, drowning you out, but your voice cuts short anyway, because he’s sliding his middle two fingers down and pushing them roughly into you.

“Oh, my- Tsukki- ” You gasp, his name ripped from your throat.

“ Fuck- ” He groans, sliding his fingers out and slamming them back into you. “ Y/n- ”

You purse your lips to muffle yourself, wriggling and arching your back, your throat pressing into his hand. “Tsukki, fuck.”

“God, you’re so pretty, baby,” He whispers, his breathing rough and shallow. “You feel so good-” His chest heaves against your back, and your head fills with white noise, a ringing in your ears as you feel nothing except the way his fingers stretch you out, his palm slapping against your clit over and over again until you feel like your skin is on fire. “You’re doing so- so good with my fingers-“ He cuts off, moaning and pressing his face into your hair when you clench hard around his fingers. “ Fuck , Y/n-“

“Please,” You whimper, knowing how desperate you sound. “More, Tsukki, please-”

“Baby-“ He laughs, his voice strained. “I don’t know-”

“ Please , Tsukki. Please, I need you-“

He slams his hand into you, stopping long enough to take a deep breath. “Y/n, I don’t want you to do something you’re not ready f-”

“I’m ready!” You scream pathetically. “Please, I promise I’m ready, I need you so bad, Tsukki-”

“Y/n-”

You know it’s only been a week since that morning on your bed. You know that he’s worried that you’re not thinking straight. But you also know that it’s him, that it’s always been him. That, above all else, he’s the one you need. That there will never be anyone else.

You think you might be in love with him.

And if that’s the case, then you’re really not seeing any reason to keep waiting.

“Tsukishima Kei, I swear to fucking God – if you don’t fuck me, I will actually start sobbing.” Your voice is already starting to crack, and your chest is heaving in large gulps of air. He moans quietly in your ear, and you think he says something to the effect of ‘ Okay, baby. I got you’, but you can’t be sure. The ringing in your ears is too strong, worsened when he quickly slips his fingers out of you. You whine at the emptiness, the sound lost in the shuffle of Tsukki lifting you into his arms and standing from the couch.

He carries you to bed in two strides, lying you down much more gently than you’d expected. Climbing over you, he slides his shirt off and drops it to the floor in one smooth motion. Your heart jumps, and you eagerly sit up to do the same, barely catching the way his eyes widen as he takes you in. And then you lie back, clutching the sheets in both hands to fight the urge you have to cover your chest. But it seems like he might be enjoying what he’s seeing, because he just hooks his fingers distractedly into your sweats and panties, his eyes roaming your body. He pulls them both off and sends them somewhere off the edge of the bed without looking.

“Shit,” He whispers, more to himself than anything. You shiver under his gaze, gathering the courage to let your thighs fall open. Cold air hits your skin, but you barely have time to whimper before his eyes are dropping. They go wide, and you watch all the air leave his lungs as he stares down at you. “ Shit ,” He says again, even quieter.

“Coming?” You breathe, reaching one hand along the sheet for him. His gaze flies to yours, golden eyes still stunned but recovering the moment he sees you looking up at him. Wordlessly, he drops down over you, his lips finding yours in a rush of heat and everything he’s not saying right now. You sigh against his mouth, holding his face and spreading your thighs further when you feel him reach down between you for his own pants. He pushes them down blindly and kicks them off into the distance, his mouth hot and his wine-laced tongue dancing along yours.

“Y/n,” He mumbles, and you tighten your hold on his face.

“If you ask me if I’m sure, I will finger myself in front of you and then kick you out.”

His laugh is the prettiest thing you’ve ever heard.

“Okay.” He nibbles on your lip and shifts his weight. You feel his cock brush along your thigh, precum smearing on your skin. “I hear you.”

You will admit that you’re nervous. As he pulls his lips from yours and glances down between you with purpose, the head of his cock bumping up against your entrance, you’re struck with anticipation and a little bit of fear that this might hurt a lot, especially considering his size. But then, as he’s using his thumb to push the tip in as slowly as possibly, his eyes flick up to meet yours.

And you remember just how sure you are.

So, even though it does hurt — the sting causing you to grip the sheet hard enough to rip it — Tsukki’s eyes are flicking back and forth between your face and your core, his brow furrowed in concentration, and you feel impossibly safe. Because he would never do anything that might hurt you.

You trust him.

“‘s this okay?” He grunts, sliding painstakingly slowly into you. You just nod, bottom lip caught between your teeth and eyes scrunched shut. He leans forward, pressing his lips to yours and forcing you to free your lip from its torture. “Y/n, if it hurts, we can stop. We don’t have to do this,” He whispers against you, but you only shake your head, whining.

“‘m okay, I promise. ‘s just new.” Your breath is shallow in your chest. “Maybe if I jus’…” You angle your hips up and spread your thighs just an inch wider, and you feel his sigh against your lips. The relief is instant for you, too, and your lungs fill with air. “Okay,” You breathe, prying your aching fingers from the sheets and stretching them. “Okay.”

“Okay,” He whispers back, his hand finding your thigh and his fingers splaying across the underside. He sighs, the sound a half-groan as he bottoms out inside of you. “Fuck.”

Your brow’s broken out in a sweat and your skin is flushed with heat, but when you open your eyes, Tsukki’s staring right back at you, gaze searching your face. You wonder what you look like, because you’re seeing awe in the way his eyes trace you.

“You okay?” His eyes track the embarrassed purse of your lips and the way you glance nervously down your body at the place where his hips meet yours.

“Are you?” You ask breathlessly, watching his arms shake as he holds himself over you.

“No,” He laughs. “This is torture.”

You beam up at him, your voice weak when you say, “You can move, Tsukki.” Your fingers find his shoulders, and he collapses onto his elbows, pressing his forehead to your chest.

“Really? I don’t want to hurt you-”

“Are you this careful with every girl? I’m starting to get a little offended-”

“ You’re not every girl ,” He says simply, muffled against your skin. Your stomach flips, and you accidentally clench around him. The sound he makes is inhuman. “ Was that necessary? ” He complains pitifully into your chest. You giggle wholeheartedly, and he shakes his head against you. “ Don’t do that either- ”

“Oh, my God, Tsukki – please just move ,” You laugh, snaking your arms around his neck and lifting his head toward you. He shifts, kissing you firmly and breathing a soft ‘ yes, ma’am ’ against your lips.

He starts slow, slow as before. His hips pull back carefully, and then he rocks forward on his knees, bumping gently up against you when he bottoms out again. The sting is still there, but he distracts you by kissing you, his lips eager on yours and his quiet moans breathless and lost in your throat. He circles your clit gently with his thumb while he does, and you start to shiver against him. Eventually, the sting subsides, and the only notice you give him is the stretch of your thighs and the shallow cant of your hips upward to meet his. His kiss falters for a moment, and the hand on your thigh tightens in surprise, but he doesn’t ask any more questions.

When he snaps his hips a little roughly, you know he’s gotten the message. You focus on breathing while he rocks his hips, pursing your lips to keep from moaning too loud. He’s breathless over you, and you’re secretly amazed to see him like this — brow furrowed and lips parted, eyes flicking between yours and then shutting briefly before finding you again. You’ve never seen his expression so unguarded before.

There’s a quiet sound that vibrates in his throat every time his hips meet yours, and you find yourself wanting to hear it properly. So you card your fingers through his hair and kiss him, whispering his name against his lips and rocking your hips up in time with his. You hear it then, clear and perfect.

“Oh- fuck- ” Tsukki groans loudly, his hand sliding urgently along the sheet in search of you. His fingers interlace with yours and latch on tight. “You feel so good-” He drops his head to your shoulder, lips hot on your throat. “God-” He laughs pathetically. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this much of a mess.”

“Tsukki,” You whisper, feeling something below your navel twist and tug. “Tsukki-I’m- mm-” You wriggle, arching your back and wrapping your legs around his waist. “Please-”

“Are you close, princess?” His voice is teasing, but you can see in the way he lifts his head, eyes searching your face frantically, that he’s eager. When you nod, his face melts into a kind of affection you’ve never seen from him before. He smiles, eyes flicking down to your mouth, and nods. “Okay, baby. Close your eyes.”

You whimper, doing as he says and immediately feeling him shift over you. His hand falls between you, fingers swiping ever so gently over your clit as his hips start to bump against yours with a little more force. You cry out, hearing the headboard slam against the wall over and over again.

“ Tsukki! ” You cant bring yourself to care anymore how loud you are, your breath coming too fast now and your reservations slipping the moment you hear him moan your name.

“You look so pretty, Y/n-so pretty like this.” He pants, his hips starting to stutter and his cock twitching inside you. The tugging in your navel worsens and peaks, and you moan his name again. He groans at the sound. “You take me so well- fuck . Feels like you were made for me.”

You gasp, feeling yourself being pulled to the edge. “Tsukki, I’m-” You shudder, fluttering around him, and he starts to breathe hard against your skin.

“Come on, baby. Let me feel you come around me.”

Your hands tighten on his hair, and you’re distantly aware of Tsukki pushing his lips to yours heatedly as you’re starting to scream. He swallows the sound, moaning as he spills into you, his hips faltering and then stopping against yours.

You stay that way for an unknown amount of time, your heart beating in your throat, ears, core, and everything else while you come down. Tsukki kisses you with languor, his teeth nipping softly on your bottom lip as he sighs against you. You swallow thickly, whispering his name after a moment.

“Hi,” He whispers back, slowly lifting his head. You scratch your nails on his scalp, and he blinks down at you sleepily. “You okay?”

You giggle. “Guess we’ll see in the morning.” His lips pull into a small smile, eyes tracing your features. You kiss him once, mumbling ‘ should we clean up? ’ against his lips.

He barks out a laugh, nodding. “Stay here.” He lifts off you slowly. “I’ll take care of you.”

You can’t find it in you to be shy about him seeing your body now, feeling all too safe and drifting quickly off to sleep, before he’s even back from the bathroom.

—

It’s still dark outside when you roll over, wincing as you stretch. You reach over for Tsukki, but your arm hits the bed instead. A noise of confusion leaves you, and you lift your head, blinking in the dark.

He’s sitting up in bed, the sheets pooled around his waist and his arms wrapped around his bent knees.

“Tsukki?” You mumble. He doesn’t seem to hear you, so you sit up, realizing with a quick glance that you’re wearing the t-shirt he’d had on before and your panties. He must have cleaned you up and dressed you. “Tsukki,” You try again, touching his arm.

He starts, turning to look back at you. “Oh. Hi.”

That’s all he says.

You pull your hand off of him, something unknown coming between you. “What’s wrong?”

He just swallows hard and shakes his head, scooting toward you. “Nothing.” He puts his hand on your shoulder and tries to guide you back down, but you brush him off.

“Tsukki.”

He stares. You stare back. He looks away and runs his fingers through his hair roughly.

“I don’t know if we should have done that,” is what he says. The words are whispered, but they echo in the silence.

You think you might throw up.

“What?”

“I just-“ He sighs, running a hand down his face. “Don’t get me wrong, okay-”

“Then don’t say something wrong, Tsukki.”

“Y/n, we were drunk-”

Oh.

You blink, scooting away from him slowly. You pull the blankets up to your chest, staring at nothing. He watches you, shaking his head.

“Y/n, just let me talk please. Don’t overdo this-”

“Don’t overdo this?” You ask, eyes wide as they land on him. “I just lost my virginity to you, and you can’t even wait two hours before trying to make your escape.”

“ No- “ He shakes his head, trying to move toward you, but you stick your foot out, stopping him. “Y/n, no. I’m just-I mean, we’re not even together-”

You flinch back at that. He sees it, and regret crosses his face. His mouth opens, but you cut him off.

“Were you dating every girl you’ve ever fucked?”

“No, but-“ He laughs. “You’re not every girl. You know that.”

“No, I thought that,” You say, finally standing from the bed and backing away toward the couch. “But you’re treating me like I’m trash that you haven’t figured out how to throw out yet!”

“No, I’m not!” He stands too, staying at the end of the bed. He seems to have realized you don’t want him near you. “I just wish we had done things right -”

“I thought they were right!” You snap. “That felt right to me, Tsukishima.”

“You know what i mean -”

“What do you want?” You throw your hands out. “What are you trying to gain from doing this? Tell me.”

“God, I’m just telling you what’s going through my head!” He tangles his fingers in his hair, tugging in frustration. “We aren’t together, and we were drunk, and I didn’t want this to be-” He shakes his head, and you get the feeling the rest of that sentence was important. But he’d stopped talking, which means he’s not willing to share it with you. So you just watch, refusing to push him for it, because you need to see what he does on his own.

“I’m just confused,” He finally mumbles. “I don’t know where to go from here. This wasn’t right.”

You stare, feeling tears prick at the back of your eyes. But you just start to laugh, even though your vision is getting blurry.

“You’re confused? ” Your laughter is shallow, pained. “You always told me to stop getting in my head about this — about us — and now you’re the one who’s confused ?!”

“We should have-”

“You told me to do whatever I feel is right-“ You snap. “-and now that I have, you’re confused ?”

“We didn’t talk about any of this!” He yells, shaking his head. “We said we wouldn’t have sex, so we never talked about what this would mean-”

“Yeah! I figured maybe that part could wait until after!” You scoff. “You know, we could have just talked about what comes next in the morning , but you decided to be confused and overthink and ruin this.”

He looks like he wants to argue, his face pinched with stress, but you just rub at your brow, breathing hard. You feel sick.

“This is why I wanted rules,” You mumble. “I knew this would happen.”

He’s quiet for a moment, and then-

“You knew what would happen? That I would fuck this up?”

You meet his eyes, angry. “That you wouldn’t be able to find a way to let me down easy. That you would let me fall for you, knowing you were just going to cut me off at the end.”

He shakes his head. “That’s not what I was doing.”

“No?” You point at the bed. “But you were so quick to think of how cut me loose.”

His brow furrows in irritation. “ Why do you always think the worst of me?”

“Because you couldn’t even wait one night!” You scream. “You couldn’t just be happy with me !”

He steps toward you, and you see in the moonlight that his walls have gone up. “I was not trying to cut you loose. And I have never lied to you . But you’ve always been so fucking resistant to the idea that I could ever be telling the truth.” He rolls his eyes and shakes his head, already turning away from you. “God forbid I tell you what’s on my mind and you actually take me seriously.” He meets your eyes evenly. “Maybe it’s you who’s looking for a way out.”

The silence in the room is suffocating.

“Get out,” You finally say.

The door slams before you have time to process that he’s gone.

The tears finally spill, and your knees hit the floor just as the wailing starts.

—

Kei throws the front door shut so hard that something falls off the wall in his foyer. He’s not sure what it is, but he’s tempted to start breaking more things. Thankfully, it’s late enough that no paparazzi were outside when he’d gotten here, or else it might have been someone’s camera on the ground again. Great way to celebrate his contract signing.

Yamaguchi wouldn’t appreciate coming home to a destroyed house, though, so he settles for stomping up the stairs hard enough that one of them creaks in a funny way when he lands on it. He slams the door to his room, too, and then he throws himself down on his bed and screams into his pillow.

He hadn’t meant to say it like that. He doesn’t know why he said it like that. He hadn’t meant to make it sound like a mistake. How could any of tonight have been a mistake with you? He just wishes he’d told you how he feels about you before things had gotten out of hand. He wishes you would have known how he feels about you while you were trusting him with your body like that.

Because then, maybe, you would have known while you were taking your shirt off that you were safe. You would have known, while you were in pain for those few minutes, that he would never hurt you. That he was trying his best, that you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, that you would never have to pressure yourself to have sex because he would have been okay with stopping at any time.

He wishes he would have told you he loves you.

Maybe then you would have known.

But instead, you’d looked at him with betrayal in your eyes when he’d been stupid enough to stumble over his words. You’d taken him for all the things he’s always been, but never with you. You’d trusted him with everything, and then you’d closed yourself off in an instant, and he’d gotten frustrated because you wouldn’t hear him out.

But how could he expect you to hear him out? How could he get mad that you’d retreated into your shell and locked him out? You’d only let him in for a minute, and he’d ruined it.

He’s ruined this.

Kei doesn’t remember the last time he cried, but he makes up for it now, his pillow soaked with tears by the time he finally drifts off to sleep.

—

You spend the next day in bed, sobbing into Kiyoko’s shirt and ignoring the missed calls from Tsukki. And there are a lot of them. He calls back to back for an hour straight — Kiyoko finally has enough and answers for you, muttering ‘ the next time I see you, I’m going to curb stomp you until your teeth are gone ’ before silencing your phone and tossing it somewhere on the couch.

You fall asleep sometime before the sun sets, Kiyoko’s fingers combing through your hair soothingly. You stir a few hours later and think you hear Kyoutani’s voice, soft and deep as he mumbles ‘ he wasn’t at practice today ’ and paces your floor quietly. You fall asleep again, your traitorous heart twitching as it realizes that Tsukki might not be okay, either.

The morning of the 27th, your eyes crack open, swollen and burning, to a knock at your door. You roll over, staring emptily at it, and then you climb out of bed, thinking it’s Kiyoko, and trudge to the door.

It’s not Kiyoko.

In his defense, his eyes are as red and swollen as yours feel.

“Hi,” He croaks. You flinch at the sound of his voice.

“What do you want?” You whisper. He’s holding a plastic bag from the store, and he holds it out weakly to you now.

“I didn’t get to-” He swallows. “I should have taken care of you. After. I didn’t.”

No. You didn’t.

You take the bag, peering inside. Some snacks, a pack of muscle patches, a couple electrolyte-replenishing drinks.

A box of Plan B, sitting at the bottom.

You stare at it emptily. “Who saw you buy this?” The last thing you need is the internet witnessing your heartbreak in real time.

“Management took care of it.”

You’re not sure you’re okay with them being involved, but it’s better than Tsukishima Kei being caught buying Plan B.

You shut the bag, shoving it back at him. “Well, you can thank them for me, but I’ve actually been on birth control for years.” He blinks, taking it while staring dumbly down at you. You smile, your anger manifesting as cruelty. “So don’t worry about it, Tsukishima.” He doesn’t look so happy to hear his name used that way anymore. “I never intended to get pregnant and trap you in a loveless marriage for your fame and fortune.”

His eyebrows furrow, and his frown cuts deep. “Y/n-”

You slam the door in his face.

—

Kei doesn’t speak to you again until New Year’s Eve — until you literally have to speak to him, because he needs to text you about his contract signing.

His fingers shake while he sends it, letting you know that he’d be arriving to your place in a limo booked by the Frogs at 6pm, and then he sends you a picture of his ties, in case you want to match. You don’t respond, so he just picks the black one.

He’s terrified that you’ll decide not to go. Terrified.

But even when you send him a thumbs up (still not responding about the ties), he doesn’t feel less terrified. He just sits at the edge of his bed and stares down at his phone, his heart ripping in his chest as he scrolls through your previous messages from the last few months. All of that — all of your excited texts and flirty memes, all of his thinly veiled affection. All siphoned down to nothing in a matter of days.

He gets ready with trembling fingers, his eyes pricking with tears and then drying up as he shakes his head and blinks away every regret he’s ever had. He sits in the limo in anxious silence, watching it pull into your apartment, the lights flashing on the cameras outside.

And then he wipes his eyes and draws his shoulders back, because, while the world inside has been falling apart under his fingertips, the world outside has been going crazy over the news of Tsukishima Kei going pro.

He exits the limo and bows to a few reporters, waving politely as he waits for you. He doesn’t answer any questions, mostly because he doesn’t want anyone to get too close and see that he’s not okay. But then you come out of your apartment in a black ball gown that makes his heart wrench, and he has to fight tears again.

You smile wide at him, your eyes crinkling and your face glowing as you walk down the steps to meet him.

“You that stunned to see me?” You ask, loud enough to be heard by the paparazzi. They laugh, and you laugh with them as you step up to him. Then you lift onto your tiptoes and press your lips to his in greeting, and he has to remember to close his eyes and act like everything’s fine, even though the feeling your lips on his makes him want to get on his knees and beg for forgiveness.

You pull away and turn to the cameras, waving quickly before ducking through the door he’s holding open. He waves, too, and follows you, the camera shutters loud behind him.

The inside of the limo is dead silent.

You sit on the other side of the car, staring out the window as the driver pulls out to the street. Any evidence that you’d just smiled at him like he’s your world is gone. Kei just looks at you, every nerve in his body fighting to find something to say.

Finally, after five torturous minutes, he swallows. “Y/n.”

“Don’t.” You don’t bother meeting his eyes when you speak. “Let’s just get through this. In the morning, we can ask Management how to break up without making you look bad.”

His heart drops to the ground. “I don’t want to break up.”

You meet his eyes now. “I do.”

“No, you don’t.” He refuses to believe this.

“How would you know?”

He doesn’t. He doesn’t know. That’s why this terrifies him.

“We’re not breaking up,” He croaks finally.

You turn back to the window. “Let’s just get through this.”

The ride to the Frogs’ gym is filled with a silence that certainly feels like he’s been dumped.

—

“-ations to Tsukishima Kei for this amazing step into professional volleyball, and we welcome him with open arms to what’s certain to be a long and fruitful career.”

Kei stands from his seat in the audience, shaking his coach’s hand firmly and bowing at the waist. The Frogs have opened the doors of their in-house conference venue – which is just a large ballroom – the back half filled with round tables and the front lined with a couple rows of chairs for the reporters. The room is capped on the far end by a podium, where his coach has just finished speaking, and a long table. There’s a chair labeled with his name there, in the center of the table, and there’s a stack of papers for him to sign.

He moves there now, glancing up at the front row and finding you staring back. Your face is masked into a perfect smile, and your expression is filled with love and support as you watch him take a seat at a table filled with his coach, manager, captain, and a brand sponsor.

But then you meet his eyes, and he can see how empty they are.

He looks down at his papers, adjusting his tie nervously. The camera flashes are making him warm, and he can’t really hear what’s being said, so he follows his coach’s lead and turns pages when necessary and signs on dotted lines, again and again and again. He’s already read the terms of his employment — they’d emailed him the hundred-page document three days ago so that he could read it and negotiate benefits before the day of the signing. That’s the only reason he’s not more nervous about this moment. He just has to flip pages and sign whatever his coach points to.

The whole process only takes five minutes, cameras flashing away over his bent head. Before he knows it, he’s standing and shaking his coach’s hand again, and then he’s being hugged by his manager and captain and taking a photo with his brand sponsor.

And then he looks at you, still sitting in the front row as reporters start to stand and approach him.

It’s almost worse that your eyes are filled with genuine warmth this time.

He answers a couple questions, but his eyes keep flicking back to you distractedly, and finally a voice speaks from the back – feminine and familiar and belonging to a reporter donning the Sendai Sports lanyard.

“I think maybe Tsukishima would enjoy a moment alone with his girlfriend — We could move to the reception tables and continue our conversations there, perhaps?”

Kei grabs his manager by the sleeve as the crowd is clearing and asks if it’s possible for the Frogs to hire Nariko as his PR rep. His manager looks up at him with surprise and says he’ll speak with her.

When Kei turns again, you’re there. His heart jumps, and he slips his arm around your waist by habit, trying not to react visibly when you tense against him.

“You asked to hire Nariko?” You say, setting a careful hand on his bicep. “That would set her up for life.”

“I know,” is all he says. Your eyes flicker with appreciation, and you step close to wrap your arms around his neck. He hugs you as tight as he can without making it obvious that he hasn’t seen you in days.

“Congratulations,” You whisper in his ear. “I’m proud of you.”

A lump grows in his throat. “Thanks.” You dont respond, and he squeezes you, because he can feel you slipping away. “I’m sorry,” He breathes.

“I can’t,” You say, stepping away. “It’s too late-”

“It’s not .” He’s starting to get desperate, the thought of you closing off to him forever pure torture. “It’s not too late-”

“Stop brushing off what I said.” Your brow furrows with annoyance, and his frustration bubbles for a moment too long.

“Why? You do it all the time.” He dips his head quickly so that the cameras don’t see the tension in his face, and he’s thankful your back is to them, because you’re outright frowning now.

“Let’s just get through this.”

“Would you please stop saying that?”

You sigh quietly, stepping close and running your hands over his shoulders in a way that appears affectionate to anyone watching. “Fix your face, Kei. I don’t want to talk about this now. Let’s just enjoy the evening, because you deserve to be appreciated for everything you’ve put into this.”

He’s amazed at your ability to think of him, even now.

“You put so much into this, too,” He whispers. You just smile bitterly.

“Yeah. And look where that got me.”

He watches you paint a loving smile on your face as you take his hand and lead him toward the reception table occupied by his teammates and Management. He does his best to pretend, even though he feels like he’s losing a piece of his soul.

—

You lean forward on the counter, staring at yourself in the bathroom mirror.

It’s amazing that you’ve been able to keep it together all night. You’ve clung to his arm and followed him around the room, talking to his teammates, to Management, to any reporters who had questions for you. You’ve spoken with a smile and a laugh and a twinkle in your eye, and you’ve done your best to hide how much it hurts to be close to him.

To the smell of him, clean and warm and filled with home . To the feel of him, secure and safe as he holds your waist and kisses your cheek appropriately. To the sight of him, perfect and golden and made of everything you’d fallen in love with.

It makes you sick, looking yourself in the eye and knowing you’d been lying the whole night. Especially with Kyoutani watching you like a hawk, eyes full of blatant concern. And with various members of Management quietly asking if you’re feeling okay, if there’s ‘ anything else ’ you need.

You shake it off, drying your hands and fixing your hair with a quiet sigh. Only a little more, and you can retreat to your dark cave of wallowing.

Straightening your back, you smile at yourself in the mirror and turn, leaving the bathroom and making your way down the hallway back to the reception room.

You hear him before you see him.

“ -the fuck did you say to me? ”

No. No way. He wouldnt.

There’s nervous laughter that follows, and you speed up to get to him before he says something else.

“ I’m just saying- ” You don’t know the voice well, but you think it belongs to one of the only super young reporters at the event today. “ -now that you’re officially pro, you might consider transitioning into a relationship that’s a bit more…. suited to your new lifestyle. ”

You stop short, just shy of the corner.

“Someone a bit more pleasing to the public, if you will,” The man finishes, and you stare down at nothing. You struggle to recover, too many wounds opened too soon, one after another. But you know Tsukki can’t pick a fight, not here. So you lift your head and resume your trudge to the end of the hall, only to find Nariko staring back at you.

She looks angry, and her eyes flick away from yours to stomp just out of view. Just as Tsukki’s starting to respond.

“Would the public find it pleasing if I were to beat your ass for talking about my girlfri-”

“Tsukishima,” Nariko cuts in. “It’s great to get some one-on-one time with you.” You hear the other reporter gasp and stumble, and you’re guessing Nariko’s pushed him out of the way.

Tsukki sighs at her. “Thanks for th-”

He suddenly appears in your eyeline, stumbling back a few feet, and you realize that she’s pushed him, too. You’re a bit impressed.

He looks affronted for a moment, but then your presence catches his eye, and he turns to you with wide eyes.

“Y/n-”

“As your new PR rep, Tsukishima-” Nariko says, stepping around the corner to face the both of you and create a bit of privacy. She winks at you when she calls herself by that title. “-I’d recommend not getting into a fight at a contract signing that only happened because you stopped getting into fights.”

Tsukki has the decency to look ashamed, and you nearly hug Nariko. But she just looks between you before glancing over her shoulder.

“You know… No one will notice if you’re gone for ten minutes.”

You don’t wait for any other signal, only wrapping a hand around Tsukki’s wrist and dragging him all the way down the hall to a storage closet. You throw him in and slam the door, whirling on him.

“Are you fucking insane?”

He points out the door, jaw slack in shock. “You heard what he said to me!”

“Are you lacking self-control in every way?!” You throw your hands out. “This is your day , and you come that close to ruining it?”

His jaw clenches and unclenches as he stares at you, his eyes flicking between yours. “I won’t let people talk to me like that. Not about you.”

You stare back. “I won’t let you put everything on the line for me. You can’t ruin your own life for something stupid-”

“This isn’t stupid !” He explodes. “Everything before you was stupid!” He starts to pace. “I had a shit temper, and it was easy to bait me into a fight, and I would end up in the tabloids for the dumbest shit . And you helped me! You fixed me, just like I asked you to! I’m not the same guy I was before, Y/n. But this -” He points out the door. “ You ? I can’t do it.”

You breathe hard, shaking your head. “Then let’s end this.” When his eyes only widen, you swallow. “Let’s end this now. If I’m this much of a weakness for you, let’s make them stop talking about me. We got what you needed – I fixed you, like I said I would. Your contract’s secured. You can go back to dating girls that all look the same, and we can take some time apart so I can get over you, and-” You’d started to pull the door open, but Tsukki crosses the room in two strides and slams it shut again, his hand flat on the wood.

“Y/n.” His eyes are sharp, but you can see the fear in them. “I need you to stop running from me.”

“Then stop making me run.” You reach for the door again, but he won’t budge. You stamp your foot in frustration. “Tsukki! I’m doing everything I can to preserve this friendship, but I can’t keep doing this !”

“You’re not doing everything! All you have to do is fucking listen to me -”

You back away from him into the room, shaking your head. “Why, Tsukki? So I can listen to you tell me that night was a mistake? That you ‘ never meant for it to get that far ’, that you ‘ wish things had been different ’? Well, so do I!” You yell. “I wish things had been different, too! I wish I would have known what you would do to me, so that I wouldn’t be stupid enough to go fall in love with someone who doesn’t love me back- ”

“ I do love you back!” He yells, strong and loud and full of anger. Your head snaps up, eyes finding his. His gaze is furious and hurt, and you can’t say you’ve ever seen him look at you like that before. It makes your heart ache and your chest tighten, the way his lip wobbles once before he clenches his jaw and fixes it.

“...What?” You finally say, your breath caught in your throat.

“I love you back. You stupid fucking girl.” He sounds tired. Exhausted, really.

You stare. “That was rude,” You whisper weakly. He just laughs, but it sounds like he’s near tears. He hasn’t sounded like that since high school, since that fight on your doorstep.

“Sorry, but that’s what you get with me.” He reaches for the doorknob, opening it an inch. “So now’s your time to back out.”

You stay right where you are. “Or what?”

The silence that follows seems to go on forever.

His eyes search yours, and the sliver of hope you see kills you. “What?”

“Or what, Tsukki? What do I get if I stay?”

He stares, unmoving. “You get me.”

You think you might cry.

You move to the door, watching the fight leave his eyes when he realizes you’re leaving. But you just put your hand on the door, nudging it shut. It clicks, and he stares down at you, confused.

“How long?” You ask.

His eyes flick between yours a moment as he processes your question. “I think it’s probably telling that I wanted you to be my fake girlfriend at all, Y/n.”

You blink, realization hitting you. “Did you know? This whole time?”

“No,” He laughs pathetically. “And Yamaguchi’s never going to let me live it down.”

“Why did you call that night a mistake?” You need to know, even if you’re not sure you want to hear the reason. It’s been killing you.

“I didn’t-” He sighs, rubbing at his brow. “I didn’t say it was a mistake. I said I wish I had done it right.” He meets your eyes, his own so close and golden and honest. You’d missed them. “I wanted to tell you I loved you first. Because I didn’t want you to worry that it was just a hookup.”

You hadn’t realized that his answer would drain you of all your energy. You slump, letting out an exhausted sigh. “And you couldn’t just say that?”

“Well, you couldn’t just listen .” He rolls his eyes, and you see a twinge of irritation in his brow. You laugh softly, and it worsens. “You think that’s funny, huh?” He says, staring down at you. “This could have all been avoided if you’d just heard me out, but you like to act insane.”

“And you like to say the worst things at the worst times!” You argue, half-laughing and half-angry. “Why couldn’t you wait until the morning? Why did I have to wake up and find you contemplating your whole life in the dark?”

“Because I felt guilty!” He snaps, and you’re taken aback, a little offended. He’d felt guilty for sleeping with you? “Because I was terrified I had ruined your first time by not doing it right and making this official between us beforehand. I hadn’t wanted you to be self-conscious the first time.”

You find it in you to be a little appreciative of that. That he had wanted you to know how sure he was, that you were safe with him no matter what.

And also-” He rolls his eyes. “Not for nothing, but we were drunk, and I couldn’t tell if I was too rough, and I really hadn’t wanted to hurt you -”

It seems your moment of appreciation is over.

“ Why do you keep treating me like I’m fragile?” You bite. “You kept asking, over and over again, if I was okay. If I was sure I wanted to keep going. You were so careful with me, Tsukki – Get over yourself! I’m not going to break!”

He just stares. You realize what you’ve said. You remember who you’re talking to.

“Not gonna break, huh?” He mumbles, eyes flicking down to your lips. He seems like he wants to say something else, but he holds back.

You don’t.

“Yeah. Want me to prove it?”

You watch in real time as his eyes fill with understanding.

“Are you sure you’re okay with it?” He says, eyes flicking between yours. You start to argue, because he’s doing it again , but he cuts you short. “With me? So soon?”

Oh.

He must not realize how badly you’ve missed him. How much it’s hitting you, now that you understand what had gone wrong between you. That you’d been stupid. That he’d been stupid.

Would it be wrong to rile him up? Probably.

“Why, Tsukki? You got a lot to take out on me?” His eyes flicker dangerously, and you take a single step closer, craning your neck back to look at him. “You got your work cut out for you. Apparently, I’m not good at listening.”

His resolve goes out the window, and he dips his head low, lips brushing yours. Your soul aches for him.

“ I can make you good at listening. ”

You smile. “ Well, you’re not gonna do it by being gentle. ”

He drags you out the door before you can even process that it’s been opened. He pulls you down the hall toward the back entrance of the conference venue, and you laugh, glancing back toward the main room.

“People are gonna notice that you’re gone, Tsukki-”

“I’ll make it up to them.” He hauls you outside, all but carrying you down the steps to the limo. There are no reporters out here, probably because they’re all inside, so it’s no issue for him to quite literally toss you into the back of the limo with reckless abandon. Your hands find him before he’s got the door all the way closed.

And then his mouth is on yours, and you feel all the things that had fallen out of place finally align again. His lips are warm and urgent, and your fingers are tight in his hair. He knocks blindly on the window separating the back from the driver’s side of the limo, and the car starts to move just as he’s pushing you down on the seat. You topple back, and Tsukki climbs over you, his mouth attaching to your throat.

“ Tsukki ,” You breathe, relief filling your lungs. He groans quietly, hands sliding your dress up your legs and over your thighs.

“ Fuck, I missed you ,” He mumbles into your skin. “This is real, right? Not a dream?”

You giggle, your chest pressing up into his, and you feel him smile wide against you. “You saying this isn’t a dream come true, Tsukishima? I can leave, if you want-”

“God, I can’t wait to fuck that attitude out of you,” He says, spreading your thighs and slotting himself between them. “How has your mouth not gotten you in trouble yet?”

“I’ve been waiting for you to do something about it,” You say, shrugging. “Might be too late, now. I’m getting pretty good at it.”

“Don’t complain when I break you,” He whispers before biting down hard on your shoulder. You moan loudly, slapping a hand over your mouth in embarrassment because the driver of this limo does not need to hear that. Tsukki laughs against you.

“You asked me not to be gentle. Are you regretting it?”

You shake your head furiously. Your stomach flips over and over on itself, and there’s that warm buzzing filling your skin that you’ve come to associate with him.

“No?” He whispers. “You like it?”

“ Mm- “ You wriggle under him, your dress sliding up as you push yourself against him. “Yeah-yes. Mhm .”

His hold on your hips tightens. “Lucky me,” He responds, a little breathless. He uses his grip to drag you down the leather seat a little more, forcing your thighs open so he can press his hips against you. You moan quietly in his ear, feeling him against your core, already half-hard.

“Need you, Tsukki.”

“Yeah? Am I supposed to give it to you just because of that?”

You get the feeling this night won’t be easy on your pride, but that’s okay. You think you might be desperate enough by the time you get home.

“I suppose that wouldn’t be fair,” You whisper, and he snickers against your skin.

“No, I don’t think it would. You’ve got a lot to make up to me.”

“How do you want me to make it up to you?”

“Patience, sweetheart,” He murmurs. “I don’t plan to do anything until I have you in my bed.”

You whine, but you can also feel the limo starting to make the slow turn into Tsukki’s driveway. He sits you up, watching you fix your dress and smiling when your cheeks flush at the state of yourself. Your skin is hot, and your thighs tremble a little, and your hair’s come undone. And yet, Tsukki looks perfectly put together.

You hide behind your hair as he helps you out of the limo and walks you to the door. Lights flash behind you, and you hear one of the reporters mumble ‘ I didn’t realize the event ended ’ to the person beside him. Tsukki starts laughing the moment his front door closes, and you groan loudly while trudging toward the stairs.

“They’re gonna know , Tsukki.”

“You embarrassed?”

“Yes! Of course I am-” Before you can turn to him, you’re air-lifted over his shoulder. You start to scream, flailing while he takes the stairs to his room.

“Good. Then I want them to know.” He sets you on your feet by his bed, and you huff, fixing your dress.

You look around while he closes the door. You haven’t been here in ages, all of your time with him spent at your place. You turn slowly, taking in the familiar sight of his room. It’s so different being here, after all this time.

You’re so distracted by his room that you aren’t prepared for the fingers he puts on your forearm or the way he spins you toward him.

You’re equally unprepared for the hand he plants on your shoulder before shoving you hard. You yelp, falling flat on your back and bouncing on his mattress. By the time you find his eyes, he’s standing over you, loosening his tie.

His eyes are cold. “What do you want to apologize for first?”

“What?” You say dumbly, watching the tie come loose. His jacket goes next, and then his white dress-shirt.

“Which one, Y/n? Listening to too many people on the internet? Not believing me when I’d flirt with you?” He leans over you, his hands flat on the bed on either side of you. “Or not hearing me out that night? Causing this whole mess.”

“I didn’t cause that alone,” You argue, and his eyebrows lift with humor.

“You’re still talking back?” He stands, reaching for the button on his pants. “Guess we’ll start here then.”

“Gonna put my mouth to use?” You joke, but there’s a rush of heat that, funnily enough, soaks your panties right through. You stare down at his hands, watching the zipper slide down and feeling your mouth water a little bit.

“You ever done this before?” He mumbles, eyes trailing down your body hungrily as he hooks a thumb into the waistband of his boxers. You nod quickly, but he just raises a brow and lifts his other hand, still holding the black tie. “Like this?”

You stare, your heart thumping with excitement. “No,” You breathe. “Can’t say I have.”

He smirks down at you, beckoning you to him with two fingers. “On your knees.”

You scramble to kick your heels off and get into position at the end of the mattress. He stands over you and holds one hand out, looking down at you in amusement when you put both wrists in his hand.

“You’re a bit eager.” When you nod, he just drops your wrists.

Your heart drops a little. “Wha-” You gasp, because he’s sliding the tie over your eyes and knotting it in the back, whispering ‘ So close, sweetheart ’ in your ear. You moan, your thighs sliding open on the bed.

“Pinch me if something doesn’t feel right,” He murmurs distractedly, and you hear the shuffle of his pants on his skin. “ Hard, Y/n. You hear me?”

“ Mhm . Pinch,” You say, panting slightly. When he laughs, your panties start to stick to your skin.

“God, you want this so badly, don’t you?” The tip of his cock touches your lips, and you dart your tongue out right away, swirling it around the head. Tsukki sighs heatedly over you, and then his fingers tangle in your hair. “My own personal little whore.”

You groan, trying to take him in your mouth, but he uses his grip to hold you back.

“Say please.”

Your stomach flips hard, because you know ‘ please’ wouldn’t be enough.

“Please, Tsukki,” You whisper. “Make me your whore.”

He inhales sharply, and you decide right there that you want to hear him fall apart. When he touches your lips again and tightens his grip, you know you have no control here. So you just let your mouth fall open.

The first time he slides into your mouth, his cock hits the back of your throat, and you gag.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He chuckles. “Thought you wanted it rough.” You recover as quickly as you can, breathing deep through your nose and sucking hard when he pulls back. He groans under his breath and thrusts his hips again, humming when you take him properly. “ That’s it, Y/n. ” He pulls you off of him for a moment, and you whine quietly. “Can you keep taking it like that?”

“Stop-” You croak, breathing heavily. “- fucking asking , Tsukishima.”

There’s silence over you, and then he yanks your head back, talking right over the yelp you let out. “If you say so.”

You get no more chances to recover, your breath sputtered and coughed around him as he sets a pace that stings. You moan loudly while he fucks your throat, drool pooling at the corners of your mouth and falling to your chest. Your fingers twitch on his thighs, and, after a few moments listening to the soft groans he lets out over you, one of your hands moves down to your thigh and slides to your core. You barely get two fingers on your clit when his voice bites out.

“ Don’t -” He snaps. “- even think about it .”

You whine around him, earning a particularly hard thrust that slams against the back of your throat. You latch onto his thighs again, digging your nails in.

“Not so mouthy now, huh?” He pants. “Not so fucking annoying. No choice but to listen.” You nod shallowly, unhinging your jaw a little more, until it hurts. He moans quietly. “Maybe you’ll listen when I tell you how pretty you look like this, baby. So fucking pretty, drooling all over my cock.”

Your whine is loud this time, and he laughs breathily. “You like that? Didn’t know you were into this, sweetheart – good to know.”

And then he pulls you right off him, your gasps echoing in his room. You cough, your chest heaving, but he doesn’t give you more time than that, his hands on your shoulders again. You’re less shocked when you’re shoved onto your back, and you’re too busy catching your breath to do much more than moan when he takes your ankles and drags you to the edge of the bed.

Tsukki hooks his fingers into your panties and rips them down your thighs, laughing cruelly. “Aw, look at you. You’re a mess just from that?”

You dig your fingers into his comforter, still blindfolded. “You’re an ass- mm! ”

Tsukishima Kei’s just stuffed your own soiled panties in your mouth.

“Still talking too much,” He mutters, and you hear something hit the floor. You only realize it’s his knees when his fingers grip your thighs hard enough to bruise and his tongue flattens over your clit.

You scream, muffled, and arch your back on the mattress. Your fingers fly into his hair just as he’s dragging his tongue over your folds a second time, but he pulls away. He bites down hard on your thigh, ignoring the jolt of your body.

“I didn’t say you could touch me.” Your fingers cling to the covers again, and it takes everything in you not to grab him when he spits hard on your clit. “Better.”

He eats you out like that, his face buried between your thighs as you scream and moan and nearly make your fingers go numb from how hard you fist the blankets. You have no clue how long it’s been or when it had happened, but you realize eventually that he’s slipped two fingers into you, curling and spreading them against spots you didn’t even know existed. Your body twitches when he pushes up against your g-spot, and you grind your hips up toward his mouth unconsciously.

You pay for it immediately, his mouth and fingers leaving you. You start to complain, but it’s turned into a scream when his hand comes down hard on your overly sensitive clit.

“I really do have my work cut out for me, huh?” He pants, breathless and raspy. “You’re a lot of work, sweetheart.” Your eyes prickle with tears, and you shake your head hard. He huffs out a laugh, breath cold on your heated core. “No? You’re not a lot of work?” When you shake your head again, he coos at you condescendingly. “You promise to be good?” You nod, and he laughs again. “Okay, then. Spread your legs for me.”

You peel your aching fingers off of the blankets and hook them around your thighs, spreading your legs and pressing your knees toward your chest until it starts to hurt. You hear Tsukki’s pants hit the floor, and he groans openly down at you.

“God, you look so good like this,” He mutters under his breath. “Can I take a picture?”

Your heart jumps. You’d always thought you would never be comfortable with something like that, but the thought of Tsukki having a picture of you on his phone – a picture of you looking like this – has you clenching hard around nothing. You nod firmly, unconsciously pulling your thighs open even further.

He lets out a surprised breath, and then you hear him scrambling for his pants on the floor. “ Fuck- ” He hisses, throwing things around, and you hear the thump of his phone hitting the rug under his desk. “ Fuck, fuck- ” You start to giggle, the sound muffled but still audible. “Don’t fucking laugh at me, you fucking asshole – I wasn’t expecting you to say yes-”

Your laugh is loud now, but when you hear him stumble back over to you and feel his hand on the underside of your thigh, your stomach flips and your breath cuts short. The camera shutter goes off, and goosebumps break out over your skin, a soft moan leaving you.

“You’re into this too, sweetheart?” He asks, laughing to himself. His phone hits the bed somewhere beside you. “You like when I take pictures of you?” You nod, your face flushing hard, but he slides his cock through your folds before you have time to be embarrassed. You moan, feeling the tip bump up against your clit with each shallow thrust. “Maybe one day we can film it.”

You moan wantonly, and his own moan joins yours as he sinks into you in one slow thrust. Your breath leaves your lungs as he pulls back and slams his hips into yours. “You took me all at once, baby,” He groans, anchoring himself to your hips. “You must have missed me.”

You nod desperately, and you feel his weight drop over you on the mattress. His fingers hook gently into the blindfold, despite how roughly his hips collide with yours, and he tugs the material up to your forehead. You blink rapidly, squinting when the light hits your eyes and trying to readjust while Tsukki drives his cock into you.

When you finally do gain your bearings, the first thing you find is him. Your eyes lock with his, and your own widen drastically as you take him in. His face is flushed, a sheen of sweat glinting off his skin. His eyebrows are furrowed with concentration, and his arms are flexed as he drags you down to meet him halfway with each thrust.

Your eyes roll back into your head almost immediately, the sight too much to handle while he fucks you. Your moans come out louder now, and – although you’re still muffled – you’re infinitely glad you’re not doing this at your apartment, surrounded by thin walls and neighbors. Here, you can moan as loud as you want. Here, you don’t have to care about the way his headboard slams against the wall. Here, you can arch your back and scream his name, over and over again around your panties.

He hears it the third time it comes out, the syllables of his name garbled but clearly his. His expression changes, those furrowed brows creasing even more and his lips parting as he lets out a series of quiet moans every time he hears his own name.

“ Fuck, ” He says, letting your waist go and dropping down hard over you, his hands hitting the bed on either side of you. “ Fuck , Y/n. I love you-” Your vision gets blurry, and your eyes burn, but you only notice you’re crying when the tears stream down toward your ears. “Listen to you, screaming my name like that,” He pants, his hips stuttering for a moment. The realization that he’s close to finishing sends you hurtling toward your own orgasm. “So fucking perfect. Fucking perfect for me.”

His fingers dig into the material in your mouth, and he pries it out, tossing the panties somewhere behind him. Your jaw aches, but you forget it when he meets your eyes.

“Say it for me, sweetheart.”

“Tsukki-” You cry. “ Please, Tsukki- ” Your fingers itch to touch him. “Please, I love you – Can I-” You start to cry harder, your vision gone completely as you sob, the feeling of him slamming into you too much now.

“Yes, baby, yes-” His breath hitches when you clench around him, and he nods tightly. “You can touch me-”

Your fingers fly into his hair, and you drag him down roughly, smashing your lips to his. You both moan, and you ramble deliriously against his mouth. “ Love you, I love you, I- ”

He shudders over you, groaning as he stills with his hips pressed tight to yours. He spills into you, his body shaking against yours as he fills you. The feeling of it throws you right off the edge, and you cry against his lips while you come, your back twitching and arching toward his.

He’s collapsed onto you by the time you’re done, breathing hard in your ear. “ Fuck , Y/n,” He sighs. You wrap your legs tiredly around his waist, exhaustion taking you over.

“How did we do all that with my dress still on?” You whisper weakly, too tired to even smile when he starts to laugh.

“God, I love you. You’re so fucking stupid.”

That one does make you laugh. You feed off of each other, worsening until you’re both wheezing together.

Finally, he buries his face in your neck, sighing. “I’m sorry.”

Your heart lurches. “For?”

“Everything,” he says. “ Everything, Y/n. For saying the opposite of what I meant. For not saying the things I wanted to.”

You say nothing, just wrapping your arms tight around his neck. “I’m sorry, too. For not listening to the right person. And for thinking the worst of you just because I was scared.”

He stays quiet a moment, just breathing you in. “Does that mean you aren’t breaking up with me?”

You chew on your lip, suddenly nervous. “Does that mean we’re together?”

“I don’t think any of this was ever fake for me.”

You bring his face up to yours, kissing him deeply. “I don’t think it was for me, either,” You whisper against his lips. He smiles, pulling back to look down at you.

“Can I still ask you to be my girlfriend? My real girlfriend?”

You stare up at him a moment, and then your brow furrows. “I don’t think you ever asked me to be your girlfriend at all.”

He blanches.

“Oh, fuck.”

You remind him of it for the rest of his life.

#haikyuu #haikyuu smut #tsukishima kei #tsukishima smut #tsukishima x reader

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