#like. not even a sense of when that happened or what else must have been going on that I forgot
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Now that i think about It genuinely makes me anxious and sad knowing that they weren't in season 1 meaning in original timeline something happened after 1938. They either were killed or had to go away for some reason because you can see they really were loyal and adored Rang as their leader. Even complimenting Lee Rang as a leader who unlike other leaders treated them equally with what they get. So I imagine something really bad must have happened since Rang seems to be alone and didn't want anyone around him and it seemed like it had been years since he's been alone, Yuri had been in Rang's life around 5 year so I think probably soon after 1938 he lost the bandit in orginal timeline. What i think is they died due to some conflict or some reasons why Rang in season 1 seemed more vary of caring for anyone. Like he rescued the dog in season 1 and Yuri but wanted them to go away after he rescued then because he knows the pain of loosing and didn't want to be weak again and responsible for again releasing from their pain from his own hands (which seeing the end of season 1 where he had to kill Yeon all the more worse for him I'm surprised he didn't just k*ll himself with all the suicidal tendencies but then again technically he did since he gave away his life for Yeon). The puppy he rescued definitely reminds him of his own puppy he had to kill as a kid because of the pain it was in the mountain fire human put and was reluctant to keep Yuri around after rescuing her in both of fear and probably experienced loosing the bandit group horribly most likely and also because since the contractor was around with life debt on Rang he didn't want Yuri to be dragged in. Which makes sense because Yuri barely knew anything related to Rang and his life contractor she wasn't around or involved with Imoogi until she wanted to rescue Rang from a fatal injury. There's also that there is good chance the contractor had something to do with keeping Rang alone. Did he have a hand in Rang loosing the bandit either killed or maybe being driven away by the contractor and the contractor uses that to manipulate Rang more.
Honestly the original timeline seems so grim for Rang I'm honestly more curious what else happened when Yeon wasn't around Rang because there's a lot tha happened to Rang during Yeon's absence like after the Mountain was in fire and then there's a huge time skip of him killing people mechanically? Like he's not even himself? Why wait so long to kill the villagers? Something clearly happened to trigger him but we don't know.
Where was he ? How was he surviving? Was anyone with him? And the contractor was suspiciously on time to find a dying Rang even though Yeon thinks Rang survived because he missed Rang's vital point but Rang only survived due to the contractor finding him right on time to use cherry tree soul fruit to save his life putting him in life contractor. I wish at least in season 3 they explore that because we know Rang hates showing weakness and likley didn't tell Yeon. Because for him what's important is Yeon tried to not kill him then (which is depressing really)
Meaning the contractor knew ? Was he following Rang the entire time ? Did he do something to push Rang to kill? Did he know Yeon would miss the mark but fail to save Rang and use that to save Rang himself to kill? Is that why Yeon wasn't able to find Rang once his punishment was done?
Anyways so many questions around Rang's whereabouts. Honestly i would love to see a sequel series of original timeline and what transpired whenever he was alone after the mountain burned down. I want to see everything from then to present times without bigger plotholes to make the ml look better please. Like God the more seasons we get i honestly just have more questions on what happened to Rang in original timeline.
This moment in the second episode made me laugh out loud.
The relationship Lee Rang has with his gang makes me weirdly proud of him. He felt abandoned but managed to find a group of people to surround himself with.
#kdrama#totnt#tale of the nine tailed#tale of the nine tailed 1938#tale of the nine tailed season 2#lee rang#kim beom#kim bum#totnt 1938#totnt1938
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Who loves Rook: Spite or Lucanis
I've been seeing a lot of discourse about this, and I just want to add my thoughts.
I might be totally wrong about this, but here we go. When Spite was put into Lucanis, he was still Determination. The fact that he changed throughout the torture, forced insertion, and imprisonment suggests to me that they have been put into a speedrun of a similar situation to Anders and Justice/Vengeance where they have started to meld. (As Anders put it, you wouldn't know where one begins and the other ends). Just like Anders and Vengeance, Lucanis and Spite can have separate consciousnesses and even disagree about things, but their core values have started to influence one another and become a part of one another- heightening certain aspects.
I think this melding is why we see some dialogues where Rook tells Lucanis that he sounds like Spite and similarly it's also the reason for the shared attraction- which I fully believe is coming originally from Lucanis.
I'll be honest my first time through I romanced Lucanis and was very disappointed. I didn't even see him and Neve ever flirt (she only ever encouraged us!) But still, it seemed to go from 0 to 60 with him. Now, I am on my second playthrough and I only just met him, but I am starting to see some really subtle looks and dialogues that suggest that Lucanis wasn't lying later when he said he was attracted to Rook from the beginning, but was afraid to really pursue anything or even acknowledge the possibility of being with them. With his fear of trusting people, ptsd from the prison, failed history in romance, and his new situation with Spite that he still hadn't worked out yet, he never thought anything would or could ever come of his feelings. We know Lucanis loves romance stories and likely longs for one of his own, but in such a situation it must have seemed truly impossible and terrifying to let someone else in. Especially someone you really care for and are starting to trust. So, he pushed it all down. Rook flirts? Maybe a small smile, but then quickly lock it all up with everything else he can't handle. Focus on work. Don't think about Spite, or Rook, or anything difficult.
However, if the melding has already happened as I suspect, then the feelings Spite is expressing are shared with (and likely sourced from) Lucanis, he's just better at expressing it directly- which makes sense for a spirit that was once Determination. When you first talk to Lucanis after the rescue, the thing Spite says about Rook changes accordingly to your tone, but to me the responses still sound like they come from Lucanis and are then echoed in Spite: "He doesn't want to hurt us." Even the "He's more fun than you" is something Lucanis seems to think about himself as he is fully aware that much of his life has not been his own and believes "all he knows is death."
Leading back to the main point, Lucanis's trust and interest in Rook would be heightened by Spite the way Anders' anger towards the templars was heightened. Even though they are finally free from the prison, their is a sense of constant suffering from still feeling trapped by fear, regret, and pain- Spite feels that suffering too. The elements of determination are still within him the same way justice is another side to vengeance. Both spite and vengeance are the results of failing to achieve their goals of Justice and Determination. Spite sees Rook as a way to free them from pain and restraint, a glowing and beautiful key to the prison door, and he is determined to do what needs to be done to solve the problem. That's why he doesn't hesitate. He has no fear. He wants to talk to Rook. He wants Rook to come in and free them.
After Rook has freed them, they become a source of comfort and safety, once they encourage Lucanis and Spite to find a way to cohabit comfortably, the two continue to meld, and the need to protect Rook, to love Rook, to keep them, is very deeply shared. Now, IF Spite was somehow removed or even somehow restored (Both of which I think are impossible) that would likely change. Determination outside of Lucanis would likely become more like Compassion. He would likely forget the horrors he experienced to return to his original purpose.
So, that leaves some final questions, particularly one Hawke helpfully asked Anders- Is Spite an unwilling party in the threesome?
That's up to everyone's own morality. While both Spite and Lucanis didn't have a choice to become like this, it is the situation they are in and the way they have to find a way to accept and live with because there really doesn't seem to be any real way to change it. Through their time together, Lucanis and Spite have influenced each other and grown into something new. Part of that is Spite also loving Rook. In that way, for those who are feeling (rightfully) underwhelmed by Lucanis's romance, Spite can almost be seen as a symbolic expression of Lucanis's love.
All that being said, I think there were some small things they could have done to make the romance more satisfying over all...but I'll save that for another post.
#Dragon Age#DA:TV#dragon age the veilguard#DA4#DA:V#lucanis dellamorte#spite dragon age#dragon age rook#lucanis x rook#lucanis romance#spoilers#Maybe I'm missing something but this currently where I'm at with trying to digest things and figure out what the goal was with this romance
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There Is Beauty In The Pain
Chapter 6 Part 2
18+ below the cut
Tag list: @philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @thisbicc @lma1986 @dominuslunae @shayzillaaaa @mrsnoahsebastian @flowery-mess @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @stardustsirenmelody @romanreigns-supreme @anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey @rumoured-whispers @myownthoughts12 @sister-sebastian @nyxthedestroyerofworlds-deactiv @missduffsblog @bngurngheart @somebodyllelse @xxkittenkissesxx @fadingangelwisp
Sophie:
I brushed my teeth, placing my brush in the holder once finished and turned out the bathroom light. Climbing into bed, I sat for a moment, thinking about the day and all that had happened. I was still in a whirlwind of emotions about it, feeling like it was a first time thing, even though it certainly wasn’t.
Noah’s hands on me, exploring places only one other man had ever gone, was the last thing I ever expected, especially after the fight we had the other day.
To start with, Perry’s texts came out of nowhere, blindsiding me to the point that it made me panic. It had been almost three months since I’d last seen him, since those last horrible, fucked-up texts and video (which were still on my phone), were sent to me.
I’d blocked his number, but he must have gotten another number, because that morning, a text came through that said “I miss you and I’m sorry” from a random number I didn’t recognize, automatically thinking they had the wrong number.
I wrote back and said such, but another text came through quickly that read:
“No, I don’t. But I have yours memorized, Baby.”
I knew then I was screwed. The conversation with Perry was brief, but the things he told me were different than the other times before. Even his tone sounded different. I wanted to believe him, but after the night before with Noah, I just couldn’t.
I told Perry to go away and leave me alone, instantly blocking the number, but keeping the texts just in case. And then it happened. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t control the corrupted thoughts running through my head, and that morning, Noah could tell how wrecked I was. He thought it was his fault and it crushed me that he felt that way.
I just couldn’t explain it the right way to him, yet, because none of it made sense in my head yet. Then I made the mistake of calling him Perry, and man, that made things go south real fast.
I stayed to myself for a few days, eventually opening the prison gates in mind and allowing myself some freedom. Noah was there, waiting for me with a smile, a hug, and an apology which I accepted gratefully, ready to put the past behind me and move on.
The moment Noah touched me for the first time, my skin screamed. It wasn’t enough to just have his hands on me. I wanted him in me, molding me to him and allowing him to evade every single crack, corner and crevice of my body. And he did; mostly.
His finger inside me was something I never thought would be so addictive. He knew what he was doing when he twisted or hooked, or inserted another finger, almost filling me.
The way he softly yet confidently circled my clit, making me say things I’d never said before because I was never allowed to speak during sex with Perry. He said it broke his concentration, when really, now I knew he was probably thinking about somebody else.
Then came the moment when Noah went fully down on me, holding nothing back as he licked, sucked, and kissed my center like it had always belonged to him. In reality I guess it did because Perry, never once, did even a quarter of what Noah was doing. Even though I was forced to pleasure him and make him happy and content, Perry said that sort of thing wasn’t for him.
Noah brought me to such an unreal climax, that the way I came for him was out of this world. It gave me such a high, I was literally seeing stars, even making him cum in his jeans.
All of these little things Noah did to me earlier in the day attached themselves to my memory, refusing to forget any detail. They would stay there forever, buried deep in a secret place. But the best part of it all was how Noah made my heart feel through it all.
He was sweet and gentle and made me feel completely worthy of everything he did to and for me
I had never experienced an orgasm like that, nor being praised and worshiped in the way Noah had. The entire experience was euphoric, almost ethereal, and I hoped it wasn’t just a one time thing.
The subtle knock on the door brought me out from reminiscing and it opened slowly. Noah stood in the entrance, looking so fucking delicious that I had to squeeze my legs together, trying to suppress the strong sensual, wet feeling cascading between them. I knew Noah noticed because of the way he smiled at me.
“I just came to check on you and see if you were okay?”
“Well, that was sweet of you,” I answered, patting the spot next to me on the bed. Noah’s eyes met mine as he made his way over to the bed, dropping on the mattress next to me.
“Yeah, I’m okay,” I replied.
I wasn’t oblivious to the way Noah’s eyes raked over me. I was in my sleepy pants and a tank top and didn’t have the chance to grab my hoodie before he walked in. I was chilly, goosebumps spreading over my skin for proof and making my nipples harden. Noah’s eyes lingered on my breasts a little longer than I think he meant to because when he looked up at me, a slight reddish hue graced his cheeks.
I reached out and caressed his cheek, feeling the weight of his head leaning into my palm. He looked at me again, this time a little sleepier.
Noah had a face that could fit anywhere. Sometimes he was hot as hell, other times cute. Right now, he was absolutely adorable, but then other times, I’ve seen him look so angry that it scared me. But I knew I was safe with him. I knew Noah would never, ever hurt me.
“Sleepy?”
He nodded slowly.
“Did Matt mention anything about earlier,” I asked, quietly. Noah shook his head, slipping his hand between my knees.
“I think he was too embarrassed to,” he chuckled, letting his hand slide down my thigh. Even through the light fabric of my pants I could feel the heaviness of his touch, sparking a sudden need inside me. I sighed, indulging myself in the feeling of Noah’s hands on me again.
Without taking my eyes off his, I lowered my legs and let them fall open, hearing the strangled groan leave his chest as I did so, proving he wanted me, just as much as I wanted him.
“Round two,” Noah smirked, leaning over and laying his lips on me, kissing me softly. I took his hands, lacing his long, tattooed fingers with ming. My mouth fell open with his, our tongues pressing together as Noah let go of my hands and wrapped his arms around my waist, lifting and pulling me into his lap, where he continued to kiss me. I bit back and swallowed the moans that were begging to escape. I didn’t want to sound so needy and desperate.
Playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, I settled comfortably in Noah’s lap, unintentionally wiggling against the hard bulge pressed against my heated center.
It was Noah who moaned first, separating us for a moment to look at me.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Sophie,” he said with absoluteness. I knew he was telling the truth. I could see it in his eyes.
“You’re pretty hot yourself,” I giggled, running my fingertips up and down his back, feeling his muscles relax beneath my touch.
“What are we doing?” he asked, his deep chocolate eyes searching mine.
“I don’t know,” I answered, lowering my gaze.
Noah lifted my chin and kissed me again, slipping his hands under my tank top and placing them on the skin of my back. His hands felt like fire to my icy skin, making me shiver. I welcomed his touch, though. It melted away every unwanted touch from my past every time I felt it.
His fingertips danced along my spine as memories began to unfold, images that had my eyes filling with tears. I threw my arms around his neck and rested my cheek against his shoulder.
“Are you okay?”
I nodded, unable to answer for fear he’d hear the tears in my voice.
“Hey, look at me,” Noah said, pulling me away from him.
I Didn't.
“Look at me,” he repeated, tone calm.
But I couldn't. I didn’t want him to see me feeling weak again.
His fingers were on my chin, lifting it to look at him. His eyes darted between mine and I could see the worry behind them.
“You're safe,” Noah whispered, cupping my face in his large hands, eyes boring straight into me as if penetrating my soul.
“I promise.”
That word. Promise. God how that word could break me.
He pulled me against him, wrapping his arms around me tightly.
“I'm sorry.”
“For what?”
“For not being easy,” I whimpered, wiping the loose tears that trickled down my cheeks
“Well, I don't want easy, I never asked for it. I just want you.”
I started to shake my head, but Noah stopped me by grabbing my face.
“Just the way you are,” he said, confidently.
I stared into his eyes, waiting to see that same look I would see in Perry’s eyes when he would lie to me, but I didn’t see it.
“Really?”
“Really,” Noah repeated, without missing a beat, running his thumbs over my lips. I frowned in confusion.
“Even the broken pieces?”
I wondered how that was even possible; to love someone, broken pieces and all.
Noah pecked my lips. “Especially the broken pieces,” he winked.
My heart suddenly felt ten times lighter as my head hit his chest and I laid it against it, relishing the sound of his beating heart.
Folio:
I knew the risk of it happening. I knew it was possible. I just didn’t think it would be so soon, so fast.
Sophie fell for him; Noah and all his charm. Of course she did. Why wouldn't she? After all, they shared a unique moment with each other and given everything that happened to her in the last month, Noah was the one her heart felt safe with. They weren't officially together, but all of us knew there was something there.
But there was an undeniable pull between me and her, one that came and went like a hot summer storm.
There were moments that were simple and mundane, our friendship blossoming into something I never knew I needed.
But then there were moments when the fever between us was so hot, so incredibly strong, that it felt like we could burn the world down around us.
I couldn’t explain it. I knew Sophie felt something whenever we were together. I could always see it in her eyes, especially when we touched, but neither one of us ever said anything.
So, I kept all my feelings to myself because of how worried I was about losing her for good. If I confessed the way I felt there was a chance she'd be angry with me or worse I'd scare her away and that wasn't something I was willing to risk.
There were hints, though that spoke loudly; the way she would watch me so intently and her reaction when I played my drum kit, or the way she would cuddle up close to me on our random fishing adventures.
But my favorite was when I took her out on my bike a few times while Noah spent the morning with Ash at the gym. The warm California air rushed through us both, making the space between hot and sweaty as she clung to me tightly.
Sometimes she'd rest her head on my back and I would hold her arm pressed tightly around my waist. It was magical, being with Sophie that way. It always felt right and I often thought I'd maybe stand a chance.
But each time we got home and I watched her and Noah hug and greet each other, it felt like I'd been punched in the gut or worse, had my heart ripped out of my chest. I'd pretend I didn't notice, only to hide myself away in my room for a while, sometimes getting high or just stareing at the ceiling thinking about what it would be like if it was me she had fallen for instead of Noah.
The answer was always the same, too; I'd be the happiest man in the world.
Six Months Later
Noah:
The warm liquid seeped through my shorts, creating a large grayish stain to appear. Luckily, we were the only ones home, so I didn’t risk the chance of getting shit from any of the guys before getting the chance to change.
“See what you fucking do to me,” I smiled after Sophie pulled me in between her thighs, wrapping her legs around the back of mine.
Her arousal made me aroused and right after her orgasm hit her, mine came crashing into me before I could stop it.
Sophie held my face between her hands and kissed me, slipping her tongue into my mouth and pressing it to mine. The way she kissed me fully had me wrecked. My legs were still shaking.
She ran her hands through my hair, wrapping them behind my neck.
“I fucking love it when you do that,” I moaned, lowering my head to her shoulder.
“What, this?” running her hands through my hair, her nails raking against my scalp.
“Yup. That.”
Sophie chuckled.
I raised my head and looked over her face, taking in all the sweet little imperfections I noticed: a few small scars on her cheekbones and under her eyes, proof of all the hard months of physical abuse she lived through.
“So beautiful,” I whispered to myself.
Sophie shook her head and instantly looked away, refusing to meet my eyes.
“Hey, look at me,” slipping my finger under her chin and turning her face towards me.
“You are,” I assured her. My lips formed a thin line and curved into a smile, but Sophie covered her face with her hands as if she was embarrassed. I pulled them away, and brought them to my chest instead, holding them there tightly.
‘Don't you dare cover your face, especially not from me,” I scolded. “You've spent too much of your life hiding that beautiful face because of…”
but I didn't finish my thought. I didn't want to say the asshole’s name that was responsible for all of Sophie’s trauma in the past. I didn't like bringing up the abuse either and all the shit he put her through.
“Yeah, well, you know,” I huffed, I mumbled.
I bushed the loose hair out of Sophie’s face, forcing a smile. I was fighting hard against the urge of wanting to finally be inside her, filling her and worshiping her body the way it deserved to be.
But I was the one choosing to wait for sex. I wanted to give her more time to adjust to everything that was happening in her world and all around her and not feel forced or pressured just to satisfy me.
The soft touch of her fingers as they slid down my cheek when she touched me spoke louder than words. It was refreshing and I couldn’t resist leaning into her touch.
I had so much to tell Sophie. Over the last nine and a half months, I'd learned everything about her, yet I hadn’t been fully transparent with her.
I had secrets of my own that I wasn't sure I was capable of telling her, things about my past that still haunted me, but I knew I had to try. And soon.
"I'm ready Noah, I'm ready for you to have all of me.”
Was she serious? My forehead creased and I knew Sophie could easily read the expression on my face.
“Sophie, are you sure? Don't you think,” “I have been thinking, Noah! That's all I've been doing! I want you, Noah. I need you, now.”
She stared up at me with her doleful eyes, making me weaker by the second. “I’m through with waiting.”
My hands ached to touch her, my arms to hold her. “Are you sure?” I whispered, sinking down closer to her lips. They were a mere inches apart from each other when she whispered back, “Yes.”
Fuck.
Our lips crash together in a cry of desperate eagerness. Sophie pulled me into her causing me to have to straddle her lap as my hands tangled around her face and then her hair. I wanted to devour her and suffocate beneath her kisses, consuming as much of her as I could. Her hands found my ass and I uttered a low grumble the moment I felt them attach to me, gripping and tugging on my shorts.
“Fuck, Sophie,” I breathed, almost falling into her. “Noah, I want you,” she pleaded.
The way she whined, pulling part of my shorts down and running her hand over my skin had me buckling at the knees, weak as hell.
“Sophie, baby,” I mumbled against her lips, dropping to my knees and cupping her face to kiss her better. I couldn’t resist her intoxicatingly strong need for me anymore.
I didn't want to. I wanted to give her every part of me, including every dark and dirty secret I had buried deep inside my head.
“You own me, baby. You fucking own me; body and soul,” I confessed to her, no longer caring how fast any of this was moving. She whimpered again, making my hard, throbbing cock twitch against the zipper of my shorts.
“And everyone is going to know it.”
Sophie stopped, pulling away to look at me.
“Noah, are you sure?”
I smiled at the way she seemed so worried about it. “I’m sure. I’ve never been more sure about anything before in my life.”
She threw herself back into my arms, clinging to me tightly.
“Noah, let's go upstairs, please,” she begged me, and my heart started pounding even harder than before. I pulled her to her feet, about to do just that, when my phone went off. The ringer was fucking loud, making both of us jump.
“Motherfucker,” I groaned, pulling it out of my pocket to see who it was.
“Fucking Matt.” I ignored it, and slid it back into my pocket. “He can wait,” I said, cupping Sophie’s face again, kissing her already bruised, wet lips. Picking her up bridal style, I head towards the staircase, just as my phone went off again.
“Seriously,” I growled in frustration. It was Matt again. Sophie sighed. “Just answer it. And go clean yourself up,” she laughed, pointing down at my shorts still stained with my release from earlier. “No, I'm just going to ignore it again,” I stated, taking her hand, but she pulled away from me.
“Don't. He's just going to keep calling or worse show up. Just answer it. We'll have time for us later.”
Sophie laid her hand gently on my arm, standing on her tiptoes to kiss me. I grumbled and answered the phone, knowing she was right.
“Okay, what? Someone better be dying Matt, I swear to god. You just interrupted the most significant moment in the history of me and Sophie.”
“Noah.”
The somber tone in Matt's voice made stop halfway up the stairs.
“Matt, what’s wrong?”
There was a brief pause.
“Noah, I've got some really fucked up news that you're not going to like. I only found out a little bit ago myself.”
I hadn't heard the kind of tone in Matt's voice since… fuck.”
“She's back, isn't she,” I stated, pausing halfway up the stairs. My heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest and I felt like I might throw up. The world around me started to become a little bury as I carefully sat down on the step below me.
“Yeah, she is, Noah. Sarah's back.
#noah sebastian#noah sebastian fanfiction#bad omens band#bad omens cult#bad omens#bad omens fanfiction
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Frog (For context; I am the "host" or "original." We don't really like either term, but it's easier than saying "I'm the one who identifies with the name and body we use and I was the one to start the questioning process" lol.)
So, to be clear; Our collective isn't median, but we relate a lot to some median experiences. The concept of median plurality was our first step into plurality due to the fact that, up until we heard about median experiences, we'd only seen the more disordered forms of plurality. At least- those were the only forms of plurality we'd heard about in detail. For those of you reading this who aren't OP: I promise I asked before reblogging to make sure our experiences wouldn't be unwelcome.
This is a fucking WALL of text, and I would not blame you for looking at it and going "well I'm not reading that." I just figured it was better to give you a wall of text you'd never read than to give you something small that won't be helpful because I omitted the parts you'd find useful.
What made you start questioning whether you were a system or not? And what brought you to discovering and adopting the "median" label? As I began questioning my fictionkinity, I ultimately felt... weird. I confirmed who I was, and suddenly had what I assumed was a mental shift. Except it felt like I'd been plonked into someone else's life, and "I" spent the next few days feeling weird about it and cleaning because "what the fuck do you mean I live like this?" Turns out that was actually someone else, which I learned when consulting the plurality chat in the otherconnect discord server and coming away with the information that no, switching does not always look like getting booted out of first-person POV, or blacking out. It can look like "who 'I' am changing." When it comes to the median label- while we're not median, I can say what chose us to not settle on that term. I've seen median systems described as 'facets of one person' to an extent, or somehow being anything less than completely separate individuals. That may be inaccurate, but it's our understanding of the term. We feel INCREDIBLY strongly that this isn't the case with us. We're individual people and get really pissed when not respected as such.
Was there ever one, big "Aha!" Moment for you? Or several smaller ones? What was the event(s) like, what happened? The first "Aha!" Moment was the above, with the second being Malaika's appearance. Malaika was the first of our headmates other than me to show up properly and introduce herself, and idk what to tell you other than it's really fucking hard to deny what's happening when you have a vaguely feral witch going "Buddy intrusive thoughts don't have extensive conversations with you." After that, I feel like our life has been filled with "Aha" moments. Our mom commenting that she always felt like we were really unpredictable and inconsistent with our reactions to certain things, finding certain memories that we KNOW must have been a certain person fronting, our memory as a whole makes such much more sense through the lens of plurality, hell even the kintypes I was questioning suddenly made more sense when I realized they weren't me at all. They were some of my headmates experiencing phantom shifts and strong feelings about their kintype while fronting, or said shifts/feelings bleeding into my own when they were near front.
For neurodivergent medians, how did you differentiate your systemhood from the rest of your neurodivergencies? (Ex: the difference between autistic masking and subtle/fluid switches, identity issues from personality disorder vs genuine facets, etc) I feel this question in my BONES. The answer is... it's really fucking hard. After being in public social spaces for a while, we put on the autistic mask so hard that we tend to get blurry. Our mom has learned that if she asks if it's still whoever she dropped off at an event/appt/whatever as we get in the car, the most likely response is "aaauuhhhh.... probably?" Our biggest tool was learning that I'm not the default. That just because we're masking, or not feeling a particular strong sense for who's fronting, doesn't mean it's me. 9/10 times masking doesn't even cause a switch, it just causes confusion.
Do you experience some form of frontstuckness, whether it's "nobody can ever front except one facet" or "I'm a shell and everyone fronts through me"? Ngl this one is funny, if at Venti's expense (to be fair he thinks it's funny too.) During the election we were under lots of stress and Venti got frontstuck for three goddamn days. We're pretty sure he was properly frontstuck, since he couldn't hear anyone else either, but he was also just too scared to even try to pull someone up and switch out because he was afraid it wouldn't work and then he'd feel properly trapped. So technically we aren't sure.
Semi related to above, how do you recognize switches? Especially early in your journey. Are they subtle? Can you switch intentionally or is it random? Personally, we can switch intentionally. A lot of our switches are intentional. Intentional switches are much less subtle because we actively turn our mind's eye to the innerworld and "watch" the switch happen. Person A steps out of the body and back, person B steps into the body and grounds themselves. Beyond that, I... actually don't know. Maybe we'll pay more attention and write a post on how we experience switches after a while for fun.
How do you discover the identities of your facets, whether they're another you or someone entirely unique? This may be less relevant to you due to the fact that we aren't median, but: it helps that most of our headmates are fictives. I can recognize that certain characters have had a "will of their own" to me for a while, or that I feel emotions about a certain character's story as if it were my own, or sometimes it's as simple as "Wow I associate this song with this character!" "Hi." "WHAT THE FUCK WHEN DID YOU GET HERE-" As for non-fictive headmates, it's only happened... twice. We only have two of them other than me lol. Malaika introduced herself, and she's learned much about herself as she fronts. Jasper figured himself out because he woke up fronting and realized he wasn't someone we knew about yet.
Prior to self discovery, did you ever experience talking to your brain/body/"inner self" as a separate being to yourself, whether or not you actually believed they could respond or were conscious? Literally fucking constantly. I personified my brain and we still do. "I want to do this but brain says no." etc. While I didn't consciously personify everyone else, I did have lots of "my own thoughts" that acted completely on their own. I just was used to them, and as someone who experiences intrusive thoughts on the regularly, simply thought they were another form of that. They uh. They were not.
Have you ever had the experience of "not being able to pick just one aesthetic", which you later discovered was your plurality? THIS. I cannot express my feelings on this strongly enough; yes. I was in love with so many different styles of fashion- even ones I could never see myself wearing! Those ones in particular confused me. Turns out some headmates just like styles I would never wear myself. I felt a huge relief when I realized that I didn't have to pick one and could instead just try and gather clothes to fit a few different aesthetics. That feeling settled into everything, though, so that realization ended up not helping. Not able to just pick one career path, a small enough number of hobbies to reasonably sustain, and even though it feels really obvious saying it now I felt like I couldn't pick one personality. But that was just.... not obvious to me at the time. I couldn't pick just one way to be. Now I know it's because "I" am more than just me.
Are you monoconscious, polyconscious, or something else? Are your facets "conscious/aware" in headspace/while not fronting? Is the current fronter aware of/able to interact with the other facets while fronting? I said monoconscious in the replies, but actually the term we use is split-monoconscious. It's the best we've found so far. We have no innerworld... Except we do. Uh. It's complicated. Whoever's in/near front can only access the void. Hence our current collective name: "From The Void." But recently we've gotten a very strong sense that there is an innerworld, even some vague ideas of what it might look like, we just... can't access it or memories from it consciously when near/in front. We can interact with each other in the void; and do often! We like to chat. But whoever isn't in the void is completely inaccessible. I wouldn't call them unconscious though. As far as we can tell, they're aware and doing their own thing in our innerworld. They just lose memory of it the closer to front they get, almost immediately after getting pulled into the void.
HOO BOI this post is huge and I'm too tired to edit it, so if it's a messy ramble it'll just stay a messy ramble. We've been meaning to post about our experiences more, but haven't found the time, so your post asking some systems/collectives direct questions actually helped with that writers block. I hope this helps a little even though we're not median, and even if not thank you for reading all this way if ya made it!
Hiiii, plural community! Questions for median systems, while I explore the possibility of being one myself, answer as many as you like:
What made you start questioning whether you were a system or not? And what brought you to discovering and adopting the "median" label?
Was there ever one, big "Aha!" Moment for you? Or several smaller ones? What was the event(s) like, what happened?
For neurodivergent medians, how did you differentiate your systemhood from the rest of your neurodivergencies? (Ex: the difference between autistic masking and subtle/fluid switches, identity issues from personality disorder vs genuine facets, etc)
For those of you with no headspace or very limited internal interaction, what is that like for you? How did you discover your system and how do you communicate (if at all)? Do you experience uncontrolled inner voices, like a lot of multiple systems do, or something else (internal/"ghost" emotions, visual projections, random thoughts popping up)?
Do you experience some form of frontstuckness, whether it's "nobody can ever front except one facet" or "I'm a shell and everyone fronts through me"?
Semi related to above, how do you recognize switches? Especially early in your journey. Are they subtle? Can you switch intentionally or is it random?
How do you discover the identities of your facets, whether they're another you or someone entirely unique?
Prior to self discovery, did you ever experience talking to your brain/body/"inner self" as a separate being to yourself, whether or not you actually believed they could respond or were conscious?
For those of you who are stoners, how does weed affect you and potential switches? Does it make switching/recognizing a switch easier?
Have you ever had the experience of "not being able to pick just one aesthetic", which you later discovered was your plurality?
Are you monoconscious, polyconscious, or something else? Are your facets "conscious/aware" in headspace/while not fronting? Is the current fronter aware of/able to interact with the other facets while fronting?
⚠️ NO SYSCOURSE ON THIS POST ⚠️
I do not want to engage in syscourse, do not attempt to start any with me. I simply want to hear about others experiences and hope to learn something about myself in the process. If you want drama, go elsewhere.
#median system#median plurality#plural system#plurality#pluralgang#plural community#actually plural#endo safe#pro endo#endo system#traumagenic system#pluralpunk
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me when the dissociation causes memory loss: *surprised Pikachu*
#blue chatter#listen. LISTEN. usually when I dissociate I remember a LITTLE bit#like. I am distant from my body and I feel fuzzy and lose time rly easily#but there’s lil hook events that will pull me a little closer and I’ll remember like. impressions of them. before I can move/react to them.#USUALLY this means I’ll remember receiving ice from my roommate as a grounding tool even if I don’t ’snap out of it’#but APPARENTLY yesterday my brain was on the dissociation train for TOO LONG#bc not only did I forget that one of my roommates went upstairs until well after he’d left#but apparently my roommate gave me ice. and I held it. and put it in my mouth. and I don’t remember that AT ALL.#like. not even a sense of when that happened or what else must have been going on that I forgot#I don’t know where that blank spot is in the timeline of ‘spaced the fuck out’#which. again. happened for OVER THREE HOURS off and on.#I know that we were watching Bob’s Burgers and that my roommate told me that I missed a full episode all in a row#but I don’t know which episode#because I don’t fully remember *any* of them#bc I was in and out all night#*screams*#why can’t my brain be normal!#I know what triggered this most likely. I had therapy yesterday and I have an exam today that I’m really nervous about#and I did homework for three hours yesterday after therapy so I didn’t have a long rest period afterwards like I usually do#*flops on the ground* when will my brain return from the war for good…#this better not fucking happen on Friday I have to drive places
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i smacked my stomach in frustration & it reverberated so loud my cats fucking SC ATT E R ED ,,,,,,,,,,,,, i am but a gong. , ,,
#but guess whos finally making their pizza anyways when they should b in a hole decaying#i can barely even remember the past few days#only that they were failures#and im a failure && i am so Dirty#my acid reflux is going crazy i know it must have been bad o(-<#i still feel so disconnected#i think im a bit better#it doesnt feel like someone elses ghost snuck in nd is trying 2 pilot me but didnt know what to do with what they found anymore#i wish going out didnt do that to me#it comes in it sets me up but then i ruin it all . but then it ruins all of what i have back because it doesnt belong here. it doesnt work.#it doesnt fit. and now#im just stuck scared#alone#trying to get back to who i am#i feel so wrong#i am so Wrong#gonna watch jerma and hope it eases me back in but#its like my body thinks it can take from everything and make me fit but it cant its so distorted nd im always left back where we started#it takes from everything i hate#everyone i hate#just to seem like a person#and it makes me harm everything i have#and it feels so wrong the entire time but it has me#and i cant get free and i hate i . its like its supposed to be safe but it isnt#i forgot what it feels like i forgot it existed#it used to happen all the time when i was younger like 13-14 when things got real bad but it feels like the memories exist in a diff world#im deleting spotify again i forgot how music harms me HBJA.. i think it was the mix of going out n then losing myself listening to music#for Hours. it got its claws in me and then boiled me out and dug Deeper & deeper#i remember talking to my therapist about it once but she didnt understand. its like . an overwhelming sense of false clarity#how do i live when this is what happens when i try . do i get a chance to get out . is it just bc im alone. is it just im the same then&now
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#okay i’m gonna try to keep this short and sweet. 30 tag maximum you are my nemesis lol#my main issue here is not necessarily that the karaoke and other bach party scenes have likely been cut#it’s more that they’re clearly buddie baiting for engagement#journalists were watching the episode as early as saturday. which means the ep was ready by at least this time last week#so they knew that the scenes had been cut. and they chose to continue including it in promotion and interviews#i KNOW that logically the reason they chose those scenes to cut was because they’re less important. and we’d already seen them#they technically already gave us the clips in the promo videos. right? so bye bye#but that’s bullshit. sorry#they used buddie best friendism content as a way to promote the ep and increase hype#and then they just pull it out from under us the day before it airs#this is a madney episode. madney are getting married. buddie having fun is not the most important thing here. i get it#so why did they not promote something else? you’re telling me there was NOTHING ELSE they could’ve used?#nothing else from the episode that was free of big spoilers? at all???#it’s madney’s episode but they chose to promote one clip of buddie talking to maddie. one of chim crawling. and the bach party stuff#they must know that people would focus on the bach party. buddie is beloved buck and eddie are beloved#what were they expecting??#they used buddie as a pairing as bait. not queer bait and not even ship bait i suppose as there was nothing ‘shippy’ shown#but they baited buddie content. that’s literally what’s happened#i would be more understanding if this wasn’t a regular occurrence. it’s normal sure. shows do this all the time with fan faves#but also it is a false reflection of the episode. even journalists are saying the episode is not what they expected from the promo#it honestly feels like they’ve made fools of us. maybe the episode will air and it’ll be better than expected#but i don’t have much hope not much hope for buddie. not much hope for madney getting what they deserve. ZERO hope for eddie’s 7b storyline#frankly i’m expecting b/t to be the main chat after this ep. which is……. anyway#i’m not really liking s7 so far and i feel gaslit when people say it’s great lol#IN MY OPINION it is choppy and too fast and a little ooc and doesn’t make a lot of sense#they didn’t even green light bi!buck until episode. what. 2/3??#so presumably had to change everything from then on#i know that’s partly down to limited episode numbers but… 3 eps for the cruise (unnecessary) but 1 for madney wedding? ok#sigh. if anyone’s read this far pls don’t come for me ok. these are just my opinions#we’re all entitled to them. i’m sad for madney and i’m sad for buddie best friendism and i’m sad for s7 as a whole right now
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show & tell (SMG x reader).
part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.
SUMMARY:
You have known Mingi since you both were fourteen. You’ve been by his side through thick and thin and you would do anything for him, really, considering he’s your other half. When he has an unfortunate bed experience and asks for your help and you say yes, he starts considering that, maybe, you’re just the best friend a guy like him can have.
PAIRING: best friend!mingi x afab reader.
GENRE: childhood best friends to ?
WORD COUNT: 8k.
WARNINGS: SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI) attempt !!! at comedy, wooyoung being a little shit, hwa being the voice of reason, sex talk, pet names (love and also dude and bro but in a sweet way), mingi scaring the sense out of you, descriptions of female anatomy, kissing, dirty talk (sort of), teasing, a little bit of voyeurism, fingering, squirting, almost getting caught, unresolved feelings.
NOTES: had to do a lot of research for this one, so i figured nothing better to post as my first fic here! this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send to my askbox/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3
POSTED: july 18th 2024.
masterlist. / part two.
“Delete her number right now!”
“She's such a bitch for saying that to you…”
“And over text too? Wow.”
“Yeah, no, I didn't like her from the start.”
Wooyoung’s living room comes to life once again that morning, voices echoing and insults flying out, all towards the girl Mingi’s seeing.
Was seeing. You're sure she's out of his usual rotation with the lovely shit show she just caused.
You stay silent, your eyes fixed on your best friend's expression, on his red cheeks and apologetic eyes because everyone told him that girl was bad news.
He should've listened to you when you told him you liked her friend better. She was a sweet girl, clearly had a thing for Mingi.
Unfortunately, Mingi has a type. And that type always ends up breaking his spirit one way or another.
But you stay silent, letting your friends have their little rants about how much of a bitch she is for hurting Mingi's ego like that, until he covers up his face with his hands and lets out a frustrated whine.
“That's enough, everyone. I think he got it.” You smile a little and everyone turns to you, Yunho’s chest heaving and everything but Seonghwa (who also kept his mouth shut all this time) interferes before anyone else has the chance to start again.
“You know you shouldn't feel ashamed for that, right?” he asks Mingi, who slowly lowers his hands to his lap and looks at you for a brief second. You nod, confirming what Hwa says “No one is born knowing everything and she shouldn't expect you to know how to make a girl squirt.”
“Jesus Christ,” Mingi whines again, closing his eyes “Don't say it like that.”
“How else should I say it?” Seonghwa is confused but he laughs a little bit and turns to you.
Being the only girl in the room, you think everyone it's expecting you to pick your friend up and join them in their insults but you can't (for Mingi’s sake). Instead, you let out a sigh “I mean, it's hard to even make it happen on your own without any help, Mingi. I don't know what the fuck she's on but…” shrugging, you extend your arm to pat him in the shoulder two times “Hwa’s right.”
“So you do know?”
“Woo—” Hongjoong reprimands right away and you turn to Wooyoung, confused.
“Huh?”
“You said that it's hard making it happen,” he explains, smiling because he just found a new target for the next few days “So you must know.”
Talking about sex with them was never difficult, it didn't make you uncomfortable whatsoever but you know what Woo is doing.
You look down at Mingi before answering though and his eyes are glued to the carpet, begging for the topic of his unfortunate encounter with that bitch to die on everyone's tongue.
So you take mercy on him.
“Oh. I mean… Yeah.” You shrug once again, leaning back against the cushions on the couch while Wooyoung claps like he just heard the most hilarious joke ever.
“You truly are amazing.”
Rolling your eyes, you get up from your comfy seat “Sure. But it took a lot of practice and the whole ordeal was frustrating for me, so, again, I don't know what the fuck she was on,” you say again, smiling down at Mingi before taking a few steps towards the door “It's noon already, by the way.”
“Shit.” Woo gets up quickly from his spot on the floor and everyone else follows suit.
“Alright, everyone out! We have a midterm to cheat on.” San calls out and everyone takes it as their sign to actually leave (not just hang around the apartment) and continue with their days.
This reunion was a little impromptu, just because Wooyoung texted everyone begging to come over and hang out with him and San before their online philosophy midterm.
“And by that he means that you need to stay,” Wooyoung hugs Seonghwa hard, almost begging him with his eyes “We didn't study… Don't look at me like that! Please?”
“I'm not doing your fucking midterm for you!”
You chuckle, leaning on the door and waiting for your ride home to get his shoes on. When you look down at him again, Mingi mouths a thank you and you blow him a kiss.
When you get downstairs, you swear you still hear Wooyoung begging his senior to take the test for him.
Everyone is quiet in the car. You can tell they're tired from exams and life in general, so you don't press them with questions and just let the music play in the background while you look out the passenger window and, eventually, at Mingi.
His grip on the steering wheel lets you know he's a little more affected than he let on back there. But, again, you say nothing.
You know better than to pressure him into telling you his feelings.
Mingi and you have been friends forever. He lived a few houses down from yours, becoming your first friend when you moved to the city. You both were fourteen when it happened, so you've known him long enough to know what happens when he gets his heart broken.
Not that Mingi loved that girl or anything, but he never really took embarrassment well. He didn't when the first girl he liked rejected him in front of the whole ninth grade class and he didn't when his pants ripped in the middle of the stage while performing a routine with his dance team on senior year.
You stood by his side every single time and every single time he waited to sit down and let everything out, collect his feelings and talk to you through his frustrations. You really loved that about him, because he never said anything he regretted just because he was upset at the moment.
Maybe that's why you two have been friends for so long. Opposites attract, or whatever your mother told you one time.
In reality, you think it's because you two complement each other well.
He knows when to speak his mind and you're kind of impulsive, heart on your sleeve and sharp tongue ready to defend your and your loved ones honor if needed.
That's why it takes a lot of strength for you to not pull up that girl's number from his phone and give her a piece of your mind.
One by one, you drop your friends off in different parts of the city and when it's time to go into your own house, you circle the car and Mingi rolls his window down.
He reads the look you give him a little too well, so he opens his mouth to stop you but you shake your head.
“Call me, come over or just let me know if you need anything,” you start before he says anything “If you need me to beat her up, I can do that too.”
He huffs out a laugh “You don't even know how to fight, love.”
You sigh at the nickname, he's been using it since the time you told him you had a crush on his friend, way bsck in highschool, and that you were positive you were going to get together and he would csll you love because that's what good boyfriend's do.
Turns out, you weren't exactly his friends type. Neither were the other girls in your school.
“I don't give a shit, I'll do it,” You two smile to each other fondly for a few seconds and then you tap the top of the car “Thanks for the ride, dude.”
“You’re welcome, bro.” He rolls his eyes, annoyed because he hates when you call him that, but waits for you to get inside either way.
And in the solitude of your room, you wait.
You distract yourself with papers that are due in a few days, you start studying for your finals even though they're months away and you even go downstairs to say goodbye to your parents when they leave for a fancy dinner with their colleagues before you hear your phone ring.
Mingi's FaceTime comes right on time, because you were getting really anxious from the radio silence on his end.
“I have a small query for you.” He puts on an accent that makes you grimace immediately and he laughs at you.
“Ew. Never do that ever again,” you beg, going back upstairs to your room “Go ahead.”
“How do you do it?”
“Excuse me?”
“How the fuck do you make yourself squirt, love?”
Oh.
Definitely not the conversation you were hoping to have with him.
It caughts off guard and you stammer your response “Um… You— I mean, it's not really a thing I can explain.”
“You have such a way with words, though.”
You stare at him through the screen, annoyed, and he just laughs again “Don't make me come over and beat you up.”
“Alright, alright,” his giggling dies out and you distract yourself from the heat you feel creeping over your cheeks while putting away your statistics prep for the quiz you have next week. There's a bit of silence and then you hear him sigh “I do really want to know, though.”
“If you're asking me this to then go over to her house and prove her wrong, I'm not telling you shit.”
“No! No, that's not it at all,” he defends himself quickly when you turn your head to the camera, scowl in your face “When she asked me to do it, I really did try to make her, you know…”
“You said squirt so freely a minute ago, Mingi,” you tease, smiling, but at his expression, you give in “What exactly did you do?”
“I tried to, you know, do it like they do it in the movies,” he demonstrates his point with his free hand, his middle and ring finger down on his sheets, pressing and moving side to side “And she was enjoying it and she came, but nothing really… came out.”
“Wow, first of all: you make her come and she has the nerve to give you shit over text? I hate her,” you shake your head, disappointment written all over your face “and second of all, that was a terrible mistake.”
“What? Going like this?” He does it again and you roll your eyes, laughing a second later.
“No, dude, trying to porno your way into making her squirt.”
“Oh.” His movements on the sheets slow down and you grimace again.
“Please stop doing that,” you beg and he snaps out of his thoughts to look at you through the screen. You take your phone and move to the bed, resting your head against the pillows with a huff.
You ponder for a moment. You're sure telling him what he wants to hear it's not really a threat to your friendship, but it's also something that's very personal and intimate. You can talk about sex with Mingi and the other guys, sure, what doesn't mean you tell them about your sex life.
Maybe that's why Wooyoung was so excited earlier today, because you spilled something that involves you directly and not something vague and general like you usually do.
“Would it give you peace of mind if I explained it to you?” You ask, your voice barely a whisper as you sit straight on the bed.
Your best friend takes what feels like a lifetime to respond and, when does, it's in a hushed tone as well “Please.”
You groan and you comply either way, trying to find the right words to even start “Okay, I'm going to be very technical about this.”
“I wouldn't expect anything else from you.”
His teasing tone makes you glare at him for a few seconds before dismissing it with a click of your tongue “The very first thing you need to make sure happens, is that you wash your hands—”
“Yes, Y/N, I'm not a virgin,” he huffs this time, annoyed “I know all of that, just skip to the part where I make her squirt.”
“Jesus, fine! I also want to clarify that this works on me and I'm not really sure if it'll work on anyone else, alright?” he nods and you look away from the screen because you're not sure how to look him in the eyes “The first thing that I do— The first thing that you need to do,” you correct yourself quickly “Is make sure she's comfortable. And I mean, the space. Towels, water bottles… She needs to hydrate a lot.”
“Hydrate… a… lot…” You turn your head to the screen and your jaw goes slack at what you see.
“Are you writing this down?!”
“I’m making sure I don't forget anything!”
“You're unbelievable…” You let out under your breath and take a deep one before resuming the, apparently, class “Squirting can be confused as peeing and—”
“Shit, hold on.” He interrupts and you hear his mom’s voice at the door, asking him something you can't really catch through the shitty airpod audio “It's just Y/N… I'm not really saying anything so I don't understand how I'm being too loud for— Yes ma'am.”
You try not to laugh because he's literally being scolded right in front of you.
Old habits die hard, and Mingi's mom loves to put him on the spot.
Your laugh dies hard as well, because the next words, for some reason, make your heart drop to your ass.
“She's telling me to either cut it out or go to your house, so… I'm coming over.”
“Oh, I— Hello?” Your lockscreen mocks you because the call literally ended before you could tell him to go and fuck himself “Shit.”
You don't know why you panic, but you do. You tidy up the room, you change your pijamas into something more presentable and you try to remember what were you telling him before he pulls open your bedroom door.
“Mingi! Fuck, you scared the shit out of me “ you're panting, hand over your chest.
He’s also panting, like he runned to get to your house, but he looks dumbfounded by your reaction “Your mom literally gave me the spare keys in your presence.”
When he steps closer, you notice he's wearing cologne and that his hair it's a little wet, still, so you figure he took a shower before calling you tonight.
Which means he probably wanted to sleep everything off, like he usually does, but whatever this is made him call you.
“Yeah! But I thought you— Nevermind.” He shrugs and gives your hair a kiss before he moves to sit at your desk, the same way he usually does when he steals your laptop and notes to complete his assignments for the few classes you share.
God. Somehow, you wish he was doing just that so it brings back some sense of normalcy. Maybe then, your heart can calm down enough for you to understand why this specific situation has your senses going insane.
You sit back down on your bed and try to get your heart back to its place in the meantime.
“They're not home, right? I didn't see your dad’s car.”
“Company dinner.”
“Ah.” He nods and you both fall in uncomfortable silence. It shouldn't be awkward, but it kind of is, even if you laugh when he pulls out the notebook he was writing on from underneath his oversized shirt and steals a pen from your pencil case, it's still a little weird.
You gulp.
“So, squirting can be confused as peeing.” He recalls the last thing you said with a smile and then he turns to look at you for a second “Go on.”
You're grateful he's taking notes all of the sudden. He's turned to you, so you have a clear view of his back and you can freely take a grounding breath before continuing “It can make you feel very uncomfortable if you think you're going to pee yourself and that's really why most women don't squirt in the first place.”
“You sound like you're reading a text book.” He confesses with a laugh.
“I told you, I'm being very technical about this— Besides, I did my research when I was trying to…” you gulp again “You know.”
“You said squirt so freely a minute ago.” Mingi teases you the same way you teased him earlier and you squint your eyes in return.
“Very funny. Anyways… Yeah, when you feel that, you usually tense up. You need to relax before even making it happen,” he nods, writing it down quickly “I also read that, depending on the person, you can confuse the liquid with, like, usual… arousal? Yeah, arousal” you sound more confident the second time you say it, unsure on how to call it because you never really explained anything related to your vagina to anyone else.
He turns to you, confused “So… If she doesn't squirt a lot, how can I tell if she did it?”
“I guess you'll notice it in her reaction?” You shrug and then cough a little to try and get rid of the sudden lump on your throat “I mean, it's not my case, so I wouldn't… I wouldn't know that.”
Mingi, because -you guess- hates you, just raises a brow and looks you over one time before turning back to his notes.
“A-anyways,” you cough again “It's all in her g-spot. It happens because it gets stimulated and that g-spot it's like…” you, once again, try to find the ideal words to explain “It's like the upper wall of the vagina? No, no, that's not right,” you see him draw a line over what he clearly wrote down on the paper and you laugh, apologetic “It's more like the, uh… Like the front wall of it.”
“Front wall?”
“Y-yeah?” you offer, nervous and unsure “I mean… Ugh, let me explain again. Something that you need to take into account is that you can only find it if she's really, really turned on.”
“O… kay.”
“Sort of like when you get hard we, uh, also get hard. Just differently,” you notice he's no longer taking notes when you turn to him again and the room is suddenly very hot.
The AC’s on, right?
Fuck.
“And apparently it only really shows up when you're really aroused. The g-spot, I mean,” Quickly, you're up from your bed and walking around it, fetching your water bottle and taking a big gulp of it with your eyes closed.
Mingi clears his throat a second later.
“So it feels hard to the touch or…”
“Not really, um… It kinda feels like a berry.”
He laughs “What?”
“Yeah, it's kind of soft but it has a texture to it too. And we, uh… have this gland that fills up with the liquid— Kind of like a prostate gland! Yeah, that's what that article said,” putting even more distance within Mingi and you, you sit back on the bed, just on the other side “If you try to do it before it fills up, you end up with nothing. That's what frustrated me the whole time I was learning how to do it.”
“You didn't drink enough water?”
“No, no— It fills up when you get really turned on. And when I was trying, I was trying way too hard and didn't, uh… I didn't do a lot of foreplay before trying, s-so.” You nod, finishing the explanation in a softer voice.
Your cheeks feel hot and you swear your upper lip is sweating a bit. Why would you even say that?
“Y-you didn't touch yourself enough or…?”
“Exactly, I didn't, I just… Tried t-to stimulate it. Wasn't even wet enough so I used, uh, lube.”
“Oh… Lube. Sure, okay.” He nods again, and then moves his hand over his face, looking away for a second “And then?”
“I'm not really sure how to… Give me a second.”
What were you even telling him before exposing yourself like that? Before the tension in the room skyrocketed in a suffocating way? You're not sure.
Oh, foreplay. Okay, what's next?
“Fingering,” you say out loud when you remember and at the sudden word Mingi turns to you, eyes wide and you stumble over your words yet again “Y-you need to finger her to stimulate the g-spot, duh.”
“Don't duh me, Y/N, I'm learning!”
“Sorry!”
“Okay! Now what do I do when… fingering.”
That makes you frown. You're not really sure what to tell him next. So you look straight ahead and, unintentionally, move your ring and middle finger the way you do when you're touching yourself.
In the silence of the room, you audibly hear Mingi’s breath hitching and that draws you back to reality.
When you look at him, his eyes are solely focused on your fingers.
“I don't really know how to explain this next part.” You sound apologetic, your lips tensing into a straight line.
A bit passes.
And then another one and another one where Mingi looks at you with a weird, foreign expression on his face.
So you open your mouth to apologize to him, but he beats you to it.
“Then show me.”
You swear you never even heard him sound like that before. Or maybe you have, the tone of voice similar to when he just wakes up, low, grouchy, as if his throat might be dry.
It just never affected you this way.
“W-what?” you blink hard, a few times, trying to focus on whatever the hell is going on.
“Show me how you do it… I-if you want to.”
“Mingi!”
“I just— Look, you don't have to,” he says right away “If you don't want to, you can forget I ever asked but I'm so… curious”, he says, getting up from your desk chair and planting his knee into the bed “And I'm also really butthurt over what happened. I want to learn but I don't really have anyone else to ask.”
“What about, uh… Minseo! Yeah, what about her?” you offer quickly, also getting up.
“San's ex?!”
“I don't know any other woman that you also know, Mingi!”
He gulps and breathes heavily, gathering his words, his thoughts, just like he always does and you remember: This is Mingi. Your Mingi. The Mingi you've known for years and care about more than anything.
“I'm asking you because I trust you,” he says, looking you over once again “And because if I fail, you're not… going to make fun of me for it.”
There it is.
You soften at that and he seems to relax at your reaction. His demeanor lets you know he's not just saying that because he wants to see you touch yourself, he's being honest.
So you decide to be honest, as well. In a whisper, because your voice will tremble and give away how strongly you feel about his request.
“I've never done it in front of anyone before.”
“So no one has ever make you—”
“No,” you confirm before he even gets it out and you sigh “I never ask for it and I haven't really… I've only slept with—”
“Hangyeol.” He nods and scrunches his nose in disgust at the memory of your highschool boyfriend. They never really got along and it was a shame, because Han was a great guy, he just wasn't the one for you.
“Mingi,” you walk over to him and he straightens up his spine “This could really… I mean, there's no getting rid of me on this lifetime, buddy,” reminding him makes him smile and you do as well, nervous, your body on high alert “But this could mess us up.” You finish in a whisper.
“I'm not letting that happen.” He says back, eyes scanning your face before zeroing on your eyes “There's no getting rid of me either, love.”
That nickname is going to be the death of you, you're sure. It makes you suck in air you very much need at this moment.
Fuck it.
“I'll… get the towels, then.” You smile a little even though your cheeks are burning and you feel a little dizzy while holding his gaze, but you don't back down.
Before you move, though, he stops you with his hand holding your waist “I know where they are. Stay here.”
You could literally melt right now. And you know it's a short trip to the downstairs hallway closet from your room, so you make sure you strip your duvet before things get messy.
You should go to the bathroom, too, to clean yourself up a bit before Mingi finds out what you find out when you sit on your bed.
You're so wet.
And it's so fucking embarrassing, because you're not supposed to feel this way for him, for this.
Because, if anything, this is clearly just an educational experience.
And if Mingi’s excited look when he re-enters your bedroom tells you otherwise, you're choosing to ignore it for the clearly educational experience’s sake.
“These will do?”
You take the two mismatched towels and place them on the bed right away, not even looking at him.
“Yep.”
You think he nods but you're not sure, you just caught a glimpse of him moving towards your desk while you pretend to fix the towels in the bed to perfection.
“Okay, so… You need to, uh, be comfy and shit. Drink water, you just did that a few minutes ago…” when you turn to him, he's reading his notes like he's actually about to conduct an experiment and you chuckle before shaking your head “The… The foreplay part should be next, right?”
“Right…” you drag out, biting the inside of your cheek before he looks back at you.
“You look really tense, Y/N,” he deadpans, looking down at his notes again “You need to relax so it can happen, right?”
“You're about to see me touch myself and you think I can relax?”
“Oh,” he frowns, immediately and then blinks a few times to refocus, you think “I'm not the one doing it?”
“Uh… Yes? Later? I thought you wanted to see me first, y-you… You asked me to show you…”
You can feel him think, the gears on his brain twisting and you think he's going to backpedal at any second because he's not really saying anything. Then you see it, the moment the image crosses his mind.
And the next second you have him in front of you, towering over your form and then he's not.
Getting on his knees, he tentatively places a hand on your knee and parts your legs so you can make room for him to touch the end of the mattress with his chest and raise his chin just enough to make you think he's asking you to kiss him.
Oh God, you want to kiss him.
His voice is a sweet murmur when he speaks again “Show me how to get you there, love,” he sounds like he's pleading, like he's begging you to instruct him and your breath catches when he moves his hand up your thigh “What do you like?”
Your mouth moves before you can even think “Kiss me.”
You don't even notice you're leaning forward until his breath fans against your chin and he tilts his head even more so that your noses touch.
“How do you like being kissed?”
You breathe out a laugh, a little annoyed by his constant questioning “Figure it out, Mingi.” And then the last thing you see is his smirk before his mouth presses against yours.
It's not what you expect. If anything, you expected him to take the lead. Han used to do so, all the guys you've ever kissed did it as well. You don't really know why his patience surprises you, but it does and if your heart could race even more, it would.
Because he waits for your guidance, waits for you to grab his shirt and jank him closer, waits for you to sigh against him and then returns the gesture when he feels your fingers move upwards and tangle in his dark hair.
His mouth is complying to yours, his tongue is exploring it and wetting your lips in the process and you've never felt this good with anyone before.
That's something you'll need to unpack later, but your brain disconnects when your best friend lets out a noise the second his hands touch your waist under your shirt and you forget, for a split second, that the point of this is to have you on your back pleasing yourself for him to learn.
Because you want nothing more than to hear him make that noise again.
The kisses grow needy and so do you when he trails a path with his wet lips from your chin to your neck and the next thing you know is that your back is against the towels you laid down before and his mouth is kissing the valley of your breasts over the cotton of your shirt.
You look down and it takes a second for him to feel you staring before he looks up at you “Should we take this off?”
Your voice gives away how gone you are when you reply a simple yes and your shirt is on the floor the next instant.
Now, you're sure this is not the first time Mingi has seen you in your underwear. You both have gone swimming before and he has walked into your room a million times while you're getting ready. You're even sure he's seen you walk out from your bathroom in this specific bra before… But he's staring at you like it's the first time he's been able to trace the way your breasts spill a little bit over the fabric of this old bra you decided to wear today, like it's the first time he's allowed himself to enjoy it.
Like it's the first time he's allowing himself to feel any sort of attraction for you.
“Fuck,” you whisper, shallow breath hitting his cheek when he returns his mouth to your jaw “Let me… Come here.”
You scoot up until your head rests against your pillows and he follows, resting his body weight on his side and chasing your mouth when you turn your face to him.
You should speed this up. There's no way you're not going to feel like shit if tomorrow you wake up and remember you're letting yourself enjoy this more than you should.
There’s no reason for you to lose your breath when his fingertips trace softly the skin under your breasts or for your legs to grant him access so quickly when they reach your belly and bypass every other part of your body before going straight in between them.
And he notices it too.
“I don't know why I asked you so many questions before,” he starts, turning his hand so that he back of it and his nails start caressing the inside of your thighs through your sweatpants “I know what you like. I pay attention to you whenever we're talking about sex with the guys.”
You frown, about to remind him that you never speak directly about your own experiences but he continues his ministrations, giving your other thigh attention “I usually watch you closely in case any of it makes you uncomfortable, but I notice your reactions when they speak about something that you like.”
Oh. Heart on your sleeve, your biggest flaw.
“Like that one time Woo was going on and on about marking and you couldn't stop fidgeting on your seat…” his nose traces your jaw softly before his teeth take the skin underneath it and you gasp just enough to prove him right “Or that time Yunho said he hated teasing because he's an impatient little shit” he chuckles, his index finding the spot next to your mound and going down slowly until his knuckle graces the crevice where your leg and your hip connect “and you defended it until we had to stop you guys from yelling each other over it…”
Your breath shakes and your eyes close at the sensation “Mingi…”
“Am I wrong?”
You shake your head no and you can all but hear him smile when he speaks again.
“Of course I'm not.”
You open your eyes and expect him to look at you the way he does when you're unable to defend yourself against his quips, but he's not. His eyes are following his own actions and his bottom lip is pulled by his teeth when he takes the fabric of your sweatpants and pulls it up, enough to give you some friction where you need it the most.
“Can I take this off?”
“Fuck, y-yes.”
Joining your shirt on the ground, you're left only in your underwear while Mingi is fully clothed and it bothers you out of nowhere.
“You're so wet already…” he observes and you blush, puffing some air and covering your eyes with you hand. He just laughs “That's a good thing, it means that I'm doing okay.”
He's doing more than okay. Damn all the experience he has and the way he reads you so well.
But his sweet tone gives you some clarity and you support your weight on your hand to fix your position on the bed.
“Alright, let's… resume the lesson before my parents get home.”
“They probably won't for now. The company dinners last until like… two in the morning, usually, right?”
“That's when they decide to go out for drinks.”
“Your mom always wants to go out for drinks.”
“Let's not talk about my mom right now!” you beg and he laughs again, making you chuckle alongside him and you're glad he's talking all of this -the kissing, the teasing, the sweet-talk and the wet patch on your underwear- so well.
The awkwardness from before dissipated the moment he got on his knees in front of you and all that followed was this lovely tension you're dying to keep between the two of you forever even though you shouldn't.
“Show me, love,” he pleads and you sigh, his mouth finding your cheek for a quick second, encouraging you “And then you can show me how to make you feel good, too.”
You stare at him for a few seconds “Damn, you're good,” he shakes his head and you smile, getting rid of your underwear and pushing the quick moment of embarrassment being bare with him in the room gives you “Remember that this is what works for me, okay?”
He nods and then props himself up so he can see it better.
You take a second before your fingers dive into your wet folds and, when you do, you gasp at the feeling.
You've never been more wet just for kissing and teasing before. What the fuck.
You do what you usually do when you're alone for a while and try to contain yourself from moaning because Mingi's eyes keep moving from your fingers to your face. Then, you remember you should be talking him through it, as well.
“You see how I'm building it up?” you start, chest heaving and he hums as his reply “I'm not trying to make myself come but I'm kinda just… edging myself a little bit.”
“Edging,” he repeats and then hisses when he sees your thumb pressing into your clit just how you like it, making you sigh heavily “I know all about that, that's good.”
“Y-you do?”
“You'll be surprised,” he smiles, proud of himself.
“Okay,” you continue, taking a deep breath “Then you know about prepping, too,” he nods “So, a finger first…” you say, swallowing hard when your index makes its way into your cavity without much effort.
Dragging back and forth for a minute or so, you're incapable of containing yourself any longer. Air leaves your mouth in pants and your eyes close when you drag the pad of your finger upwards, locating your g-spot with ease because you're used to it.
“And then, two fingers.”
“Mhm.”
“Look at the position of my hand. I read that these two fingers work the best because they're longer than the rest, although…” you look at Mingi's hand over your belly. You didn't even noticed before this that he was touching you, but he is and his thumb is tracing a pattern that both relaxes you and sends shivers down your spine “I'm sure that it won't be a problem for you, huh?”
He sends a cocky smirk your way and you would've smacked him if you weren't so… preoccupied.
Pressing your precious spot and then dragging back and forward, you stop the movements altogether. It felt too good, way more than good and it's a different sensation of what you're used to.
And it's all because of him.
You look at his side profile, his eager eyes commiting to memory what you're doing to yourself, probably taking mental notes now that his notebook is long forgotten over at your desk and…
He deserves this. He deserves to be the one to have this, just tonight.
You hate to leave what feels like it's about to be your best orgasm in the hands of someone who's just learning, yet alone a man.
But Mingi is not just any man.
“Mingi,” you call and his curious eyes leave your heat a second later “your turn.”
“Did you… Did it happen? I didn't see anythi—”
“No,” you interrupt him, your fingers leaving you and you turn to him, your clean hand finding his face “show me what you learned.”
His mouth parts, but you have a newfound confidence and a glint in your eyes that is new, so nothing comes out.
“Prove that bitch wrong.”
That seems to do it.
His eyes go from being confused to spark with determination and want and electricity runs through you again because he seems so relieved he gets to touch you sooner than expected.
Shyness and nervousness buried six feet under, you both smile to each other before you feel him.
His fingers gathering your wetness, his thumb finding your clit with ease and expertise.
“Wettest pussy I've ever touched.” You can tell he's a little lost in the heat of the moment but it's okay. So are you.
Fuck.
It's been way too long since someone else touched you this way, so you all but melt at the circles he draws on your clit. He paid close attention before, because he's touching you just the way you like it.
“That feels so good…”
“Yeah?” he asks, dark eyes finding yours before a particular stroke forces you to close them. And then he gathers enough slick to insert his ring finger inside and you can't help the moan that slips past your lips.
You lift your hand to cover your mouth, but Mingi clicks his tongue in feign disappointment “I want to hear if I'm making you feel good, love. Don't hold back on me just because this is unconventional.”
The worries die altogether with that.
And now that you have free reign to stop containing yourself, you don't know how to stop.
It's not long before his index joins his other finger but he doesn't go for it right away. He fucks you slowly, allowing you to get used to the unfamiliar stretch of his way longer, way thicker digits until they slide in and out with little effort.
His pace picks up after what feels like ages and your hand fists his shirt for the second time tonight, nodding and moaning in encouragement.
“Deeper,” you instruct “curl them upwards and go deeper, you'll feel it then.”
He obeys immediately, his chest heaving and his mouth parting in delight when he finds it. The pad of his finger presses down on it tentatively and your grasp on his shirt hardens.
“Is that it?” you nod and he does it again, which earns another moan “What do I do now?”
Before you completely get lost in the feeling, you decide to drop the step by step bullshit aside and give him the full instruction in hopes that he'll remember it all without fucking up: “What works for me is pressing… Fuck, yeah, just like that a-and then…” you take deep breath “Just a little harder… Yeah, then rub it in a circular motion while maintaining that same pressure… Fuck, Mingi!”
He's a little too good at following instructions, because he touches you like he's been doing this forever and soon you feel the familiar swell, the usual buildup of it all and he's taking you over the age like it's nothing.
You forget how to speak, you forget how to tell him what he needs to do next and so, when you finally explode, you take his wrist and place his two fingers over your clit.
When you move them side by side, he lets out a fascinated giggle but knows exactly what to do.
A second later, your release is coating your thighs and the towels underneath you and you don't register anything else because your ears are ringing.
Did you lose consciousness for a second? It feels like you did.
That was the best fucking orgasm you've ever felt in your entire life.
And when you come back down, you only register the sound of your breathing and plump lips kissing your face, his fingers stopping their pace once he realizes you're done with it.
Opening your eyes, you stare at your popcorn ceiling for a second. Then, you look at Mingi who's already staring at you with a what the fuck just happened expression.
It makes you laugh. Softly at the beginning, post-orgasm bliss takes over but then Mingi laughs too and your whole chest swells with inexplicable pride.
You don't think twice before kissing him again. When you realize you did it, you pull back and blink at him like he didn't make you see stars three seconds ago.
“That was…” his eyes do the thing he usually does. You never notice it until now, but he scans your face so frequently you've grown used to it, but now… It feels different. His teeth nip his bottom lip and he shakes his head before speaking “Come here, love.”
And then he's kissing you again, slow, intimate, beyond the stupid lesson you just taught him.
But you don't mind it one bit.
You sit up, getting on your knees on the bed and basically forcing him to do the same. Ignoring the gross sensation of the wet towel underneath you, you pull him further into you until his chest presses against yours, until his hands roam your body and settle on your waist, securing the embrace.
This time, when you pull away, there's this whole unspoken new thing between you.
“That was…?” you press, smiling a bit, pulling both you and him back to reality.
Right now, with you half naked and his hard-on pressing on your belly, it's not the time to discuss your feelings.
“Possibly the coolest thing I've seen,” he starts, giggling when you roll your eyes “and the hottest thing I've seen, too,” you shrug, dismissing his stare because it's making you feel hot all over your body, again “and I'm really, really grateful you said yes, love.”
The soft tone he uses to say the last bit relaxes you and you nod, deciding it's not the time to tell him you never even came like that on your own.
Instead, you decide to grasp this intimate moment and extend it as much as you can. You can see Mingi is not expecting it when you reach his sweatpants and let your shaky thumb trace the outline of his cock.
Closing his eyes, he lets out a pleased sigh before he grabs you by the back of your neck and rests his forehead against yours.
“This is supposed to be purely educational, Y/N”
“Is that what you want it to be?” you softly ask, pulling your hand away but then his hips buck and chase after your touch, making you smile despite the emotions swelling in your chest “Let me help you… Please…”
“Fuck, don't beg me, love.”
“Don't make me beg, then.”
What the fuck are you even doing?
“Y/N, I—” he stops suddenly and you're too lost in the moment to notice why.
But then the sound of keys and a door closing downstairs scares the fuck out of you and you push Mingi away without thinking it through.
He lands with a thud on your bedroom floor, next to your discarded clothes.
“What the fuck, Y/N?” he whispers-shouts, both shocked and offended, but you're getting off your bed and picking up your clothes and the soaked towels so you don't really care about his feelings right now.
“Bathroom. Now.”
You're so blessed for having your bedroom right next to the upstairs bathroom. And so blessed that it is your bathroom and you don't have to share it. You’ll get on your knees and thank your gods afterwards, but right now you can only think one thing.
Don't get caught.
Lord knows you'll never hear the end of it if Mingi walks out of here with a hard-on. Your dad will kill him, your mom will cheer because she loves the idea of you and Mingi together and you'll probably pack your bags and move away if it happens.
When you lock the door behind you and make a quick show of putting your underwear and pants back on, you hear Mingi chuckle.
“We can always tell them we're having a sleepover, Y/N, you didn't have to karate kick me off the damn bed!”
“Hush!” But he just keeps giggling at your very obvious flustered state.
You're about to rip him a new one when he takes two strides, backs you against the bathroom sink, and catches your lips in a quick, sweet kiss and all your worries dissolve just like that.
“Guess they didn't go for drinks after all..”
“You think?” cocking your head to side, the smile on your lips can't be fought at this point.
He returns it and leans in for another kiss, longer this time and you sigh against his mouth before pulling away because you really, really shouldn't be doing this right now.
You hear your mother calling your name and then footsteps up the stairs. A murmured she must be sleeping and a hum from your father before they pass the bathroom door. You truly only relax when you hear their door closing at the end of the hallway.
“Okay, we're safe now.”
“When were we ever not safe?”
“When I was half naked on my bed, Mingi!”
He shakes his head with a smile and takes a step back.
You clear your throat.
“I really did want to help you out but—”
“Raincheck?” he asks and at you hesitation to say yes, he continues “If you want to. If you don't, it's okay. We… We'll figure it out, okay?”
“Okay.”
He smiles again “Good, uh…”
Mingi seems unsure on what to do next. Feeling the same, you decide the best thing to do is to get him out of here.
Opening the bathroom door, you carefully peek into the hallway, taking his hand in yours and beckoning him to follow you down the stairs, trying to make as little noise as possible.
“Shit, your shoes…” you whisper.
“I don't think they noticed if they didn't barge into the bedroom to check on us like they usually do, love.” He returns, in the same tone.
That does nothing to ease your mind, but he makes sure to put them on quickly and then grabs your shoulders, shaking you in a teasing manner.
“Quit worrying, Y/N. I can feel you thinking.”
Of course he does. There's no one, in this world, that knows you better than him.
It makes your heart flutter and it shouldn't. But you're getting on your tippy toes and stealing a parting kiss before you think about it too much.
It's irresponsible for you to do so, but Mingi grabs your waist and extends the duration of the kiss and suddenly you don't give a fuck about your parents or anyone else finding out about this… shift in your dynamic.
“See you tomorrow?” he asks against your lips and you nod.
“See you tomorrow.”
And with that, he leaves.
You lock the door and practically run to your room after.
What the fuck have you done?
If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated and since it’s an open ending (sort of), let me know if you want a second part!
© jensthwa, 2024.
#ateez#ateez x reader#song mingi#song mingi x reader#mingi#mingi x reader#mingi smut#ateez smut#ateez imagines#ateez reactions#ateez hard hours#mingi hard hours#mingi hard thoughts#first post!!!#pls tell me if u like it or if u dont or anything pls my askbox is open#<333#fic; s&t
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An analysis on how Sir Pentious' character design represents his personality and development perfectly (beware of Hazbin Hotel spoilers)
Let's get this out of the way: Sir Pentious is a snake, an animal mostly known for generally believed negative traits such as poison, deceit and betrayal. We don't know WHY he's in Hell, maybe he was a "snake oil salesman" considering he comes from the Victorian times and he's into hyping up what he does, or maybe he was into war. Thing is, he's a Sinner whose design just scream "Evil".
(BTW, a snake could also represent "fertility": looking at you, Egg Boiz!)
He always had eyes all around him not just because of a stylistic choice.
Sir Pentious always felt like he was watched, and had to watch out for any danger.
"Everyone here is too nice: obviously it must be a lie! I can sense they are planning to kill me, but when?! HOW?! I must be PREPARED!"
Sadly, he's been constantly berated by other demons, far more effective in destruction, status, cruelty and charisma. Alastor won't ever bother to remember him, Cherri always ones up him, and the Vs, the ones he admires to most, won't care less about him.
To the point that Vox sent him as a spy without the intention to save him if things were going to fail. Heck, he even openly tells him to die while calling him a failure.
So of course he's got reasons to have trust issues, or taking everything so seriously, being constantly reminded of what he can't accomplish. So he puts an air of grandure that may be very flamboyant, but is VERY frail.
But, if we have to be frank here, his biggest source of insecurities... is himself.
He has eyes on his tail (his softer, more vulnerable side, which is ironically made even MORE lieable to getting hurt because of how sensitive those organs are), and inside his hood, so he could look out better for danger when on alert mode.
Heck, even the mark on his hood kinda resembles one eye.
Problem is, when you see his hood folded, when he's at ease, neutral or sad, those are not looking at outside sources.
They're looking at him, at his back. A constant stare that happens everytime he lets his guard down and shows how vulnerable he is. A gaze that can sense all of his weakness, his struggles, his insecurities.
And it's all him.
Pentious constantly believes that his inferiority complex will fade away once he'll accomplish something grand that will make others accept him. But he is his biggest critic, his worst enemy: HE is the one who believes he's a failure, that he'll never gain approval from others.
This show takes place in Hell, but this is Sir Pentious' personal Hell: insecurity born out of self hatred. Doomed to feel everyone's gaze upon him, including his own. Believing the danger to his self esteem is from others, when it's really from him.
But then he's accepted at the Hazbin Hotel: Charlie forgives him, he bonds with Angel, Husk and Niffty who don't care a bit about what he's accomplished or not, or what he's done in the past.
He feels more comfortable in showing his vulnerable side, and no one judges him for how easy it is for him to get emotional.
Of course he's still very insecure, considering how he struggles to confess to Cherri, but notice how he stops building machines or planning to attack others as soon as he starts bonding with the others: he doesn't have a reason to destroy or attack, now that he knows he's loved.
And his final design, when he goes to Heaven, shows how much he's changed, yet stayed the same. He may have died a hero, but he's still the same awkward snake we've come to love.
Speaking of love, let's talk about that!
No more eyes on his tail, now it's just on his chest (showing he's opened his heart), his glasses are now heart shaped, and even the markings inside his hood resemble kiss marks more than anything else.
And look: the mark on his hood is now heart shaped!
Why all these hearts? Why did all the eyes disappeared from his body? Even his eyes that were looking at his back?
Simple: love. Love defeated his insecurities and self hatred. He died for love.
He died protecting his friends, his new family, his new home.
He confessed and kissed Cherri knowing full well he wouldn't have made it, and yet he went anyway.
The usually cowardly and timid Pentious actually faced a great danger with courage and determination: he acted selflessly by putting himself in harm's way, he didn't steal (naturally) and by going against Adam he did indeed "stick it to the man"!
He used his weaponry knowhow and battle experience not to conquer, but to save his loved ones.
His only thought up until his demise was: "I'll go down protecting them".
And he's been rewarded not only by becoming an angel, but also being spawned directly in front of Emily and Sera, two Seraphim, the highest rank for an angel to have, who have also been depicted as snakes of fire throughout history! Sir Pentious, the lowly demon considered a failure by everyone, actually has been noticed by the Seraphim! He's come so far!
He's now come to represent the REAL symbolism of a snake: the duality of death and rebirth, transformation and immortality (ironically a reference to the fact he's been around since 1888 without ever dying from any Extermination or blessed weapons).
And isn't so poetic that a snake, the "source of the original evil", was the first sinner to ascend to Heaven? Or that this episode was released on February 1st, or National Serpent Day?
And of course, as the Bible itself says:
"Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends."
(John 15:13)
And knowing him, I'm confident in saying he'll keep helping his friends even in his new position, like the soft hearted noodle he's always been, but was to afraid to show it up until now.
#Vivziepop#Hazbin Hotel#Hazbin Hotel Spoilers#Hazbin Spoilers#Sir Pentious#Fave Character#Comfort Character#Personal Rambles#What a wonderful lovable character he turned out to be 🥲#Character Analysis
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𝐀 𝐃𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃
Pairing: Trueform!Sukuna x f!Reader
Summary: Your husband usually calls for you to join him during his bath.
Warnings: MDNI, mentions of Sukuna killing people, rough pregnancy, Sukuna being fluffy (so slightly ooc), reader is mean to Sukuna
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
Ever since you shared the news of your pregnancy with your husband, Sukuna has become more loving. The man who’d talk to you however he wanted, now makes sure to soften his voice when talking to you. He wants to see you every hour of the day, even when you don’t want to see him. Sukuna is seeing how you’re struggling with your pregnancy, and he wants to check up on you constantly.
You’re not too far along that you both know of, yet you’re huge. He grows worried that his selfish want of a child will cause you harm. There’s one person that Sukuna would die for, and it’s you. If something were to happen to you because of himself then he’d– He doesn’t want to think of it.
Lately he’s been asking to take baths with you. At the end of the day, a servant walks into your chambers and informs you, “Lord Sukuna requests for you to join him in his bath, mistress.”
She bows her head to not look at you, scared that she’ll end up like the last servant that dared to look you in the eye. It was Sukuna’s doing because how dare someone look his wife in the eye? You sigh before telling her, “I’ll be there in a second.”
She stands in the entrance of your room, given orders to not leave without you. Sure, Sukuna requests to see you but it’s an order from him. You don’t have much of an option.
You follow behind her, and she excuses herself when you’re finally with him. Sukuna lays comfortably in the water, patiently waiting for you to get undressed and join him in the water. He watches as you take off all your garments and walk over to him when you’re completely bare.
“You need to start leaving me alone, you’re starting to annoy me.” You tell him as you get in the water. Sukuna chuckles, finding it amusing how you’ve completely stopped fearing him. One of his hands caresses you from your breasts to your bump, resting there.
“Now, why are you getting mad at me? I thought you wanted a loving husband?” Sukuna comments, kissing the top of your head. Your hand rests on top of his, lightly squeezing it.
“I wanted one before he got me pregnant. I swear I must be carrying twins– Or the baby also has four arms. I don’t know, I’m just miserable.” You confess, and Sukuna kisses the top of your head again. He really shouldn’t have expected it to be any different. Sukuna’s huge, why would his baby be any different?
“It’s just one and done then?” He asks, and you hum in response. Maybe your answer will be different in a few years, but for now it’s that. He feels a tug on his heartstrings, seeing how much you’re struggling. He’s worried. “Are you holding up okay, though?”
“Not like we could do anything if I wasn’t.” You answer. He’s definitely much softer than your usual husband, and you would’ve loved it if you weren’t carrying a monster child. His hand remains on your stomach, and he feels as his baby kicks while you moan in pain. Sukuna shushes you, feeling as his baby moves.
“I’m trying to feel him! Shut up, woman!” He raises his voice, and you slightly turn to glare at him. A look that would surely kill you if you were anyone else.
“How does me making noise correlate with you feeling the baby! Think, Sukuna! Use your fucking brain.” You’re definitely bolder than usual, which makes him laugh.
“You’re so beautiful when you’re yelling at me.” He says, grabbing your hand and bringing it up to his lips so he can kiss it. “I love seeing you demanding and mean. It shows the effect I have on you.”
“Really?” You answer, and he hums in response. There’s no better time to bring up what’s been bugging you than now. “I hate that new servant you took in. Kick her out.”
“And why is that?” He asks.
“She was looking at you funny.” You respond.
“In the sense?”
“She has the hots for you, and I don’t like it.”
“Hmm… What if I was looking for–” He begins and you glare at him. He doesn’t have much of a sense of humor, but he guesses that’s something that’s off limits when he tries to joke. “Don’t you want me to do more?”
“Like what?” You question, even though you should know your husband better than anyone.
“Kill her.” He answers.
“Hmm… Up to you.” You reply. You lay comfortably on his chest, feeling as his finger traces lazy circles on your belly. You change the topic, “Why do you think it’s a boy?”
“I can’t see myself with a daughter.”
#ryomen sukuna#sukuna x reader#sukuna#sukuna ryomen#jujutsu kaisen sukuna#jjk sukuna#jujutsu sukuna#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#sukuna x y/n#sukuna fluff
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Thinking about how lucky it is that Shen Qingqiu (SY version) never gave Luo Binghe the wrong impression that he wanted a harem.
Like imagine they've having a conversation and Shen Qingqiu makes some offhanded comment about a harem is all well and good, but he thinks it should definitely be of a manageable size, hint hint, with individuals who get along harmoniously and support their primary spouse, hint hint, and marrying almost everyone you hook up with is just bad form because it's inevitably going to cause friction and it'd be nearly impossible to properly look after that many extra spouses, hint hint.
Luo Binghe picks up on the hints but draws the entirely incorrect conclusions. Combined with his previous inquiries into what kinds of women his shizun likes (SQQ, not wanting to ever be seen as LBH's potential romantic rival and eager to free himself of the original's lecherous reputation: I have no interest in any women whatsoever!) and some subtle inquiries about when a person should settle down (SQQ, with unexamined anxiety at the prospect of his dear disciple heading out into the world: not too soon! a man should establish himself well and figure out what he likes first, and take his time!), Luo Binghe concludes that his master has been biding his time and is building up to constructing a reasonably-sized harem of malewives.
Because apparently, Shizun believes that a man in a position of significant power should inevitably want such things. And disciple Binghe isn't thinking of "a position of significant power" as "effective god-emperor of the whole world", his current ideas of such things are more along the lines of "peak lord" really. Also why should Shen Qingqiu make so many comments about how Luo Binghe must surely be anxious to start taking lovers or daydreaming about having a billion wives unless he just thinks that's the standard for everyone? Because that's what he wants?
It was chaotic enough when just one of these guys was bracing himself for the inevitable harem-building, but if Binghe also expected he was going to have to supply Shen Qingqiu with a stable of other men, hoo boy. Binghe telling himself that he's fine with it. As long as he's first wife, Shizun can have others. Getting particularly vicious towards new guys Shen Qingqiu meets, like okay he's resigned himself to Liu Qingge, and probably maybe also Yue Qingyuan, and in those cases definitely having to fight them tooth and nail for primary spouse position (his plan is to become the undisputed master of the domestic sphere and thereby outrank them on that front, even if he can't beat their peak lord credentials), but anyone else is someone he can potentially chase off and Shizun will still have his reasonably-sized harem. If Gongyi Xiao wants into the harem he's going to have to earn it, and he's getting bottom of the pecking order!
Binghe, after they finally get together, trying to have frank discussions about the inevitable harem. Shen Qingqiu putting on a brave face because he, of course, thinks Binghe's talking about his own harem. Getting confused as to why Liu Qingge is suddenly factoring into the conversation. Then reaching entirely the wrong conclusion because oh right, Binghe is gay now and Liu Qingge is extremely pretty. Makes sense! Definitely not what Binghe means but it makes sense!
Actually this would be a hilarious way for bingliushen OT3 to happen. Just a complete comedy of errors where bingqiu are both trying to secure Liu Qingge for each other without ever concretely establishing that either of them wants him, even though they think they have.
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meeting robin
the justice league is happy that batman is socializing, but they're worried that he doesn't seem to notice when robin is switched out every few years
warnings and tags: miscommunication but it's funny, alien invasion, mentioned violence
“Batman,” Clark said slowly, “why do you have a second heartbeat?”
Instead of responding, Batman grunted.
“A second heartbeat?” Barry questioned, zipping over. “How would that even work?”
Another grunt from Batman.
“Batman?”
“I don’t.”
“But I can hear a second heartbeat coming from you.” Clark said, confused.
“It’s not mine.”
Barry choked. “Huh? Who is it then?”
“Robin’s.”
Clark frowned. “Who’s Robin?”
Batman grunted again, and Barry groaned.
“Come on, man!”
Then, Batman’s cape, which hid his entire body, shifted. Clark heard a small giggle. A child popped out, beaming.
“I’m Robin!” he exclaimed, clearly excited to be there. Barry was startled and jumped back a bit.
“What the f-” he stopped short when Batman glared at him. “Fudge?”
“Batman, what is…who is this?” Clark asked.
“This is Robin.” Batman said, like it explained anything.
“We got that. Why is he here?”
Robin bounced. “I’m gonna help!” he said, and Clark caught an accent he couldn’t quite place.
“Help?”
This got him a nod. “Yeah. B said I was ready to meet the Justice League!”
“Who’s B?”
Robin squinted at Barry’s question. Then pointed up at Batman. “B.”
“Batman, where’s Robin?” Diana asked, surprised the young vigilante wasn’t with Batman.
“He’s busy. Couldn’t come.” Batman said, and Diana got the sense that there was something that Batman wasn’t saying to her, but she decided to leave it be.
“I see. Is he alright?”
“Fine. Work.” Batman seemed to be giving short answers again, something he’d stopped doing after Robin had shown up.
“Well, tell him we all missed him, please.”
Batman grunted.
“Batman, what happened to Robin?” Barry questioned, staring at the small boy that had replaced the teen they’d watched grow up. This one seemed shy, half hidden behind Batman.
“Nothing.”
“Well something had to have happened, Robin was a lot taller last time we saw him.” Clark said, also watching the boy. “That’s not the same person.”
“No.” Batman said in an almost growl.
“Huh?” Barry said, confused.
“That’s not the Robin we know. That’s someone else.” Clark said.
“We’re ready to start.” Diana said from behind Batman and Robin, the latter of which startled by her.
Clark heard a quiet ‘woah’ from the boy and smiled. He must be a fan of Wonder Woman.
The Justice League and Robin shuffled into the meeting room, Robin sitting in a chair very close to Batman.
For the entire meeting, he sat quietly, mostly watching Diana with obvious wonder across his face.
Afterwards, Diana approached him, kneeling down to his level.
“Hello. My name is Diana.”
“H-hi.”
“How long have you been Robin?” she asked gently.
“Uh,” he looked up at Batman, who nodded encouragingly to the small boy. “A few months.”
“And are you enjoying it?”
Robin nodded. “Yeah. It’s fun and we get ta help people.'' This boy had an accent as well, though it was quite different from the first Robin’s.
“That’s wonderful.” Diana said. “We’re excited to work with you, Robin.” the kid beamed, looking like he was having the best day of his life.
“Batman, what the fuck?” Barry exclaimed, ignoring the various looks he got at the curse. “Why did Robin get smaller again?”
“Because I’m a different person.” Robin said.
“But he just replaced the first one like, two years ago!”
“Four, actually.”
“Batman? Could you explain, please?” Diana asked.
They got a grunt in response.
Clark sighed. “Batman, please, can you explain this?”
Robin scoffed. “Are you stupid?”
“Robin.” Batman’s tone had a warning in it.
“There’s nothing to explain.”
A grunt.
“Batman, Robin is a girl.” Hal said, confused and done with the entire thing.
“Is that a problem, fuckface?” The entire League took a step back, surprised by this Robin’s language.
“No, of course not. I’m just surprised, that’s all.” Hal said, trying to recover.
Robin huffed before turning back to Batman.
“Language, Robin.” was Batman’s response.
“Oh, come on, I coulda said a whole lot worse.” Her accent reminded Clark of the second Robin’s accent, though more pronounced.
“Tell that to Agent A.”
Robin gasped. “You wouldn’t!”
Batman grunted, though this sounded like one of his amused grunts.
“Fiiine.” She turned to Hal. “I'm sorry for calling you a fuckface.” that got a sigh from Batman.
She turned back to Batman. “Happy?”
Batman grunted again, and while Robin seemed content, Clark and the rest of the league had no idea what it meant.
“Oh my god, this one has a sword!” Hal screeched, running into the meeting room.
“Who does?” Diana asked, standing.
“Robin! Batman got a new one and he has a sword! He tried to stab me!”
“If I had tried to stab you, you would have been stabbed.” a small voice said from the doorway.
Everyone looked over to find Robin, scowling and glaring at all of them.
“He looks just like Batman.” Barry whispered, and Clark agreed. The boy in front of them had an uncanny similarity to Batman.
“Of course I look like him, I’m his son.” Robin snapped, and there were various gasps around the room.
“His son?” Barry’s pitch was high enough that Clark winced.
“Yes.”
“Robin.” Batman appeared behind Robin, frowning at the small boy and looking more annoyed then concerned. “Please don’t stab them. They are our allies, not our enemies.”
Robin looked annoyed, glaring at the Justice League. “Fine.”
“Go sit.” Batman said, nudging the boy towards a chair.
Clark looked up when the computer whirred to life.
“Recognized, Nightwing, B-0-1. Recognized, Red Robin, B-0-3. Recognized, Spoiler, B-0-4. Recognized, Robin, B-0-5.”
Clark stood and walked over to the zeta tube, staring at the four people that stepped out.
“Hey, Supes!”
“Who are you?” he asked, confused.
“We’re-” the one in black and blue started, but was interrupted by the one in red.
“We’re looking for Batman. It’s an emergency.” he stated, matter of fact. “Where is he?”
Clark hesitated. He didn’t know these people or how they got into the tower to begin with, but he wasn’t keen on taking them to Batman.
He didn’t have time to make a decision before the zeta tube started again.
“Recognized, Red Hood, B-0-2.”
He knew that Red Hood was a crime lord, how was the computer recognizing him?
“Where’s B?” Hood asked as soon as he was through.
“We’re still working on that.”
Hood groaned. “What part of ‘emergency’ did you not understand?”
The person dressed in purple scoffed. “We just got here and Superman is in the way. You wanna fight Superman?”
Hood looked over at Clark. “Hi.”
“Hi. What’s going on?”
“We need Batman. Got a bit of an emergency.”
Clark frowned and looked down at Robin. “Robin, what is going on? Who are these people?”
Robin scoffed. “Hood and Red Robin both informed you of what is going on, Superman. I didn’t know you were that dense.”
At least he knew the name of one of the new ones.
“Alright. Just, stay here, okay?”
“Fine.” Robin snapped, looking annoyed.
Clark went over to the chair he’d been in and hit the intercom. “Batman, you’re needed by the zeta tubes.”
A few minutes later, Batman appeared. When he saw the assortment of vigilantes, he sighed loudly.
“What happened?” he asked, sounding tired.
“We are being attacked by aliens.” the one in purple said.
Clark frowned and Batman shook his head.
“So you came up here to tell me instead of using the coms? Why?”
“Well, the com lines are down.” Hood said. “So yes, we came up here.”
“B, we really need to go take care of the aliens. Can we go?” the one in black and blue asked.
“Yes. Go, I’ll be down in a minute.” Batman said, still just sounding mildly inconvenienced instead of like someone who was just informed of an alien invasion.
As soon as they were all gone, Clark rounded on Batman. “What the hell? Who are they?”
Batman grunted. “Notify the rest of the League, then get down there.” he walked away, and left through the zeta tube.
Clark sighed and did as Batman had asked.
“Will you explain this now?” Clark asked, waving at the group of vigilantes that all said they worked with Batman, despite the League only knowing about Robin.
Batman just grunted and Clark was about to lose it, but then Batman said, “Robin.”
Clark stopped. “Huh?”
“Nightwing was the first Robin, Hood the second, Red Robin the third, and Spoiler the fourth. Orphan was never Robin, but she was Batgirl. Signal is new and has only ever been Signal.
“What the fuck?” Barry exclaimed. “I thought they all died!”
Hood raised his hand. “I did die.”
Batman sighed at that.
“Did he really?” Clark asked.
“Yes. But he’s fine now.”
“Am I?”
Batman groaned.
#batfam#dick grayson#jason todd#tim drake#damian wayne#stephanie brown#justice league#miscommunication#humor#fluff#my work
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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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Did I stutter? Theo Nott x fem!reader
Description: With the Christmas ball approaching, you can’t stop daydreaming about Theo. But when Pansy reveals that he’s been quietly chasing off your suitors, you’re left questioning his true feelings. When confronted, Theo’s possessiveness comes to light—but will he finally ask you to the ball?
Genre: Angst, slow burn, romance Warnings: Slight possessiveness, mild language
Word count: 1.9k
Part 2, here
Unedited and unread
reblogs, likes and comments appreciated my loves <3
...
The Christmas ball was a yearly sensation.
When the autumn leaves were long covered by the deep snow of winter, was when you knew it was not far off.
As you sat in the great hall across from your friends in a daydream, imagining Theo all dressed up in a three-piece suit, your mind slipped into mush as you dreamed about his hand placed delicately on your waist, moving you through the steps of a waltz.
"Hello, earth calling. Are you even listening to me?!" Pansy clicked her fingers to pull you attention back into focus
"Sorry, you were saying?" you rush, flustered by your own thoughts.
"Yeah, I was asking if you want to go to Hogsmeade this afternoon?" she continued.
"Oh sure" you agree, you eyes now glued to your plate, trying to pull your mind away from him
"we'll join you, yeah" Draco casually adds
"No!" Pansy quickly exclaims
"what, why not?" replies Draco his voice high and whiney
"Because, girls day, only, we're gonna try find some dresses for the Christmas ball" inisted Pans
"we are?" you question
"we are." she states
"Oh Merlin, I hate this ball bullshit" Enzo adds, throwing his fork down
"Couldn't agree more, Enz" says Theo softly
"Yeah, Theo it must be so annoying having every girl in every house ask you to the dance, gosh you boys are insufferable" ranted Pansy
Oh, that's right, the unpleasant reminder that you and Theodore have no romantic relations and you can't do anything about the girls who swoon over him, Merlin. Why do they all have to be so desperate for him? Why can't they just leave him for you? Why can't something happen between you two why can't h-
"Come on let's go get ready for Hogs" She interrupts your self-destructive thoughts, now dragging you along back to the dorms.
As you shiver into your scarf, the cold air bites at your lips, the snow filled streets of Hogsmeade bring a sense of quickness in turns of just how soon the ball is.
"I expect someone should ask you to the dance soon" Pansy says linking her arms in your as you walk together, shopping bags in your free arms.
"Thanks, Pans, you too," you smile
You're met with unusual silence from her, so you give her a small shove, a gentle nudge, saying, spit it out.
"Well, Draco's asked me to go... I've said yes" she carefully says
"Pans! When, why didn't you tell me? This again, I thought you said you and Dray were really done this time?" You ramble, eyes wide with passionate protection for her
"I know, but like his gonna let someone else take me, I wouldn't want him to go with anyone else take me either, it's just like you and-" she starts
"Don't finish that sentence alright, you and Draco dated, Theo and I nothing" you huff
"Oh yeah, then why is he going around threatening any guy who even considers asking you." her tone
Pansy’s words hit you like a bludger to the chest, forcing the air out of your lungs. You almost stumble your steps, but she keeps her arm linked with yours, pulling you along as if she hadn’t just dropped a bombshell
“What are you talking about?” you ask, trying to sound casual, but your voice betrays you, cracking at the end.
Pansy raises a brow, glancing at you like she’s holding the world’s best secret, and you’re not in on it. “Oh, don’t play dumb. It’s been happening for months.”
Months?
Theo, your Theo, going around and threatening people from asking you to the ball? That doesn’t make sense. He barely looked at you when you weren't all together, always composed, acting as though your presence didn’t make his eyes soften as you wished they would.
But then again, you have noticed that boys, nice boys, that is, had stopped approaching you after a while. You chalked it up to bad luck. You and your friends did have a certain unapproachability. The rumors swirled about Theodore Nott being unattainable, uninterested in any romance, but he never gave any indication that he’d be willing to defend you, much less ward off potential suitors.
“yeah right, that can’t be true.” Your denial comes out weaker than you intend, the words sitting heavy on your tongue.
Pansy giggles like the school girl she is. “Sweetheart, believe what you want, but I know a possessive bloke when I see one. Trust me, Draco’s the same way, just less… subtle.” She waves her hand dismissively, but her eyes hold a knowing glimmer, irritating you. Like she has insight into your life that you aren’t aware of yourself.
You shake your head, trying to process everything. “But why wouldn’t he just—”
“Ask you himself?” Pansy finishes for you, her voice lilting, almost teasing. “Oh, come on, you know Theo. He’s about as emotionally available as a cursed lock. He probably doesn’t even realise what he’s doing half the time.”
“But pans, months?”
Pansy shrugs a nonchalant gesture that tells you she’s probably been keeping this from you for a while. “Look, I didn’t say anything because I thought you’d figure it out, and honestly, it’s kind of fun watching him sulk whenever someone gets too close. Merlin, the way he glares could melt the snow.”
You let out a breath, the cold air burning your lungs as you try to wrap your mind around it. Theodore Nott, the Theo who lives in your mind, your friend of years, the same Theo you desperately want to yourself, had been quietly chasing off any competition? It feels surreal, like a dream you’d conjured in the midst of one of your daydreams in the Great Hall.
But if that’s true… then why hasn’t he made a move? Why hasn’t he said anything to you?
As if reading your thoughts, Pansy squeezes your arm. “Don’t overthink it. Boys are complicated, especially our boys alright, even when they think they’re being clear. Maybe he’s waiting for the right moment, or maybe he’s just an idiot.”
You laugh, a short, breathy sound that fogs up the air around you. “Yeah, idiot sounds about right.”
Hogsmeade is bustling with students, all of them chattering about the upcoming ball, dresses, dates, and everything in between. You glance at shop windows, your eyes trailing over elegant gowns and shimmering accessories, but your mind is miles away, stuck on a certain brown-haired Slytherin boy who, apparently, has been harboring some very mixed signals.
By the time you make it back to the castle, your hands are full of bags, and your head is full of unanswered questions. Pansy is still chattering away, something about her dress and how Draco better match her, but you can barely focus.
You keep replaying her words over and over again. Theo’s threatening people? Why wouldn’t he just ask me? The thought sends your heart into a frenzy, and no matter how much you try to convince yourself, it’s nothing, that maybe Pansy is exaggerating; you know deep down that she’s probably right.
It isn’t until the next morning at breakfast that you catch sight of Theo, sitting at the Slytherin table with his usual quiet confidence. His hair is slightly tousled, like he couldn’t be bothered to comb it properly, and his tie is crooked, but it doesn’t matter—he still looks effortlessly good, as always.
Your heart does a little flip as you watch him, your mind racing with everything Pansy told you. Should you say something? Ask him if it’s true? Or would that be too forward? Maybe you should just wait it out, see if he says anything first…
But before you can make a decision, Theo glances up and locks eyes with you. It’s a brief moment, but it’s enough to send your pulse skyrocketing. His expression is unreadable, as usual, but there’s something in his gaze that makes your stomach twist.
You quickly look away, focusing on your plate, but your thoughts are a mess. Could he see it all on your face? Are you accidentally showing what you didn't have the courage to say?
The rest of the day passes in a blur, and by the time evening rolls around, you’re no closer to figuring out what to do. Pansy, of course, is no help—she just keeps teasing you about it, making cryptic comments about how Theo’s going to “make his move” eventually.
You’re not so sure.
It’s not until later, when you’re heading back to the common room after a long day of classes, that you run into Theo. Literally.
You’re not paying attention, too caught up in your own thoughts, and you bump right into him as you turn the corner.
“Oh, sorry, I didn’t—” you start to apologize, but the words die in your throat when you look up and realize it’s him.
Theo’s standing there, hands in his pockets, his usual calm, unreadable expression in place. But there’s something different about him tonight, something that makes your heart race.
“Hey,” he says, his voice low and smooth, sending a shiver down your spine, as his hand lays on your shoulder, steading your place in front of him
“Hey,” you reply, trying to keep your voice still, but it’s a losing battle.
For a moment, neither of you says anything. The silence stretches between you, heavy with unspoken words and tension.
Before you can make a decision, Theo breaks the silence. “You’re going to the ball, right?”
The question catches you off guard, and you nod before you can stop yourself. “Yeah, I am.”
His eyes darken slightly, and he takes a step closer. “With anyone?”
Your heart skips a beat, and for a second, you forget how to breathe. Is this it? Is he finally going to ask you?
“No,” you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper.
Theo’s gaze stays locked on yours for a long moment, and then, finally, he says, “Good. Keep it that way.”
And just like that, he turns and walks away, leaving you standing there, your mind spinning.
You stand frozen in place, his words echoing in your mind. Good. Keep it that way. It’s a simple sentence, but the way Theo said it, with that intensity in his eyes, sends your heart into a tailspin.
What did he mean by that? Was it a warning? A request? Or something else entirely?
You shake your head, trying to clear the confusion, but it’s no use. Theo’s always been hard to read, but this feels different—like there’s something just beneath the surface that you can’t quite grasp.
"No Theo wait!" you call out before he gets too far
His body swiftly turns around waiting for you, typical Teddy, of course he makes you run after him.
When you finally reach him all you can manage is "I don't understand."
"what's not to understand, darling," he says softly almost sympathetic
"Have you stopped guys from asking me, personally?" you say so quickly you didn't even have time to realise what you had just asked
"Yes. I have" he replies immediately
"wh-what?" you mutter out
"Did I fucking stutter? Anyone asks you and you tell me" his tone stern and meaningful, inching closer and closer to you, "alright"
"alright" you agree in a small voice
"Good girl" he smiles as he tilts his head, before walking off.
well, what the fuck now.
Author Note: I've been feeling so unsure about my writing lately, I've been struggling to produce good work. I have been so flat out at work that by the time I get home, I'm writing at like 2am, so it just turns out shit... and I get too tired to finish it properly like this one, but I just wanted to get something out. Ugh, I'm sorry. anyway hope you try to enjoy this one, I will get back to my confident writing soon, I hope lol love youuuuuuu, B.
Part 2, here
#slytherin#hogwarts#theodore nott#theo nott#slytherin boys#theodore nott imagine#theodore nott x reader#theo nott x reader#harry potter#theo nott fluff#theo nott fanfic#theo nott imagine#theo nott fanfiction#theo nott x you#theo nott x y/n#theodore nott headcanons#theodore nott oneshot#theodore nott x you#theodore nott x slytherin!reader#theodore nott x y/n#theodore nott angst#theo nott angst#slow burn#bsfpansy
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take me home, country road
[ao3]
You have nothing on your person apart from a hastily packed suitcase and the dress you came into town wearing, on the run from trouble back home. Too bad John's missing a bride that matches your description. Or: the 1800s (mistaken) mail order bride au (chapter 20 / epilogue)
masterlist
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Black trees against a yellow sky at evening time.
It’s late when you finally reach home. Dark enough to almost be night—a full day longer to return than it took to leave, but then you hadn’t ridden as hard coming back, too sore and sleep-deprived to manage the same pace. Even the meager sleep you got on the road was hardly sufficient.
Then the shape of your house appears on the horizon and you nearly break down in tears. The sight of it fills you with such relief that you nearly lose your balance, your head slumping forward. Too long. Days that felt like weeks, your body and mind weary from the long trek home. Against the gold of the horizon light, it appears like a boat arriving at port.
You throw yourself off your horse and to the ground before John has even had a chance himself to dismount and come help you down. He stomps over when your foot nearly catches in the stirrup, nostrils flared and mustache twitching with his scowl.
“Don’t go breaking your leg before I’ve even gotten you home,” he growls when he reaches you, fitting his hand around the nape of your neck and giving it a squeeze. You’d shiver, but your body is too exhausted for your libido to manage more than a half-hearted twitch. Instead you nod, head bobbing like a baby doll.
John takes the horses to the stables while you clamber up the stairs on wobbly legs, headed straight for your bedroom, passing out the second your head touches the pillow. Your growling stomach will have to be addressed in the morning.
You aren’t conscious for when John comes up to join you, but you swear even in sleep you can sense his presence in the room. Certainly when he curls himself around you, the wall of warmth at your back briefly making your eyes flicker open before sleep claims you again and they slide shut.
In the morning, you eat a big breakfast before letting John rub a liniment onto your inner thighs and bandage the cuts on your hands and face. The doctor he takes you to see after breakfast for the shoulder that Graves dislocated prescribes bed rest and light stretching for recovery and laudanum for any lingering pain.
“What did you tell him?” you ask when the two of you head out for a light lunch in town before heading back home.
“Told him you fell off a horse.” He shrugs. “Not that uncommon around here.”
All you can do is roll your eyes.
Still, it’s as good an excuse as any. No one questions your story when you tell it to them over the following days, when your shoulder is still too tender for you to move it too vigorously. Only Kate lifts a brow knowingly, all but cornering you for the real story when you finally get a moment alone.
“That sonuvabitch,” she hisses when you finally break and tell her what happened.
“It’s fine,” you insist, shushing her. “John… Well, John handled it.”
She nods approvingly, then looks like she might say more before thinking the better of it. Silence falls between the two of you.
“He—” you pause in the middle of your sentence, unsure of how exactly to say it. “It wasn’t so bad. Telling him, I mean.”
Kate must catch the slight inflection in your voice because she stares at you expectantly, waiting for you to say more. “…I’m happy to hear that.”
You inhale as if gathering your breath to say more, but nothing comes out. You know what it is you want to say, but it’s getting it out that’s the tricky bit. What you want to tell her is that your trust wasn’t misplaced in the end; all of your fears that the truth would shatter the affection and trust that had finally been shown to you after a lifetime of nothing were unfounded, proven ultimately wrong.
“Was there something else you wanted to add?”
You chew your lower lip.
“No. Nothing else,” you say in the end. There’ll be a time someday to tell her that her trust wouldn’t be misplaced with John or Kyle either; perhaps that day will come sooner than you expect, but for now it remains on the distant horizon. It’s not your place to lecture or admonish; your place in her life is to offer the same feeling of security and companionship as she’s offered you.
Today, you loop your arm through hers and join her for lunch.
In town, people greet you like you never left. Only one person asks you about the man you were walking with the previous day, and Kate covers for you when you stumble over your answer, throat constricting in your panic. There’s no suspicion in the question, but still you anticipate it because life has conditioned you to expect pain as a response to any action or inaction.
You are surprised when pain doesn’t come this time. But still, you are wary.
When you get home, John fills the tub with hot water for you and lets you wash up on your own while he tends to the horses, the third now unofficially his. You lean your arms over the side of the tub and drift in and out of your daydreams, ears attuned only to the sound of his voice and the owls calling from the trees just beyond the house. Eyes fluttering shut until slipping deeper into the water kicks you back into wakefulness.
“You falling asleep in there?” he asks when he stomps back inside, the door slamming shut behind him and nearly giving you a heart attack.
“No,” you deny, discreetly wiping the rheum from the inner corners of your eyes. “Just resting my eyes.”
“Of course,” he snorts. Amused as ever by seemingly anything that comes out of your mouth.
A telegram comes in to the sheriff's office some weeks later asking about a missing bounty hunter, and though you pitch forward in your chair when John tells you this, he’s quick to remind you that as far as anyone else knows, Graves moved on after his first visit a month or so back.
It takes time to reassure you, but slowly your hands unclench from the edge of your seat.
Still, you make yourself scarce for a week after that. It takes some time for you to feel safe again. You spend those first few days after hearing about the telegram constantly looking over your shoulder, plagued by the worry that you’ll be found out. Sharing your worries with John doesn’t go a long way towards alleviating them because his confidence never wavers. It’s almost infuriating.
“Would it kill you to just pretend?” you huff, cracking an egg into the skillet.
“Nobody’s gonna come looking for him here. ‘Far as anyone knows, he made his way west a long time ago,” he says, dismissing your concerns while clipping his fingernails at the kitchen table. You scrunch up your nose when you glance over your shoulder.
“You better not think I’m sweeping those up.”
He barks out a laugh at that, shaking his head at the same time.
True to his word, the front door stays shut. No one comes knocking looking for an errant bounty hunter. Perhaps that is a lesson that you can take away from all of this—that there is no reward for isolating oneself. Your safety has only ever been assured in community, in putting your trust in others and safeguarding their secrets in turn. Only love has ever held out its arms for you to fall into.
And now the days pass like clouds in the sky.
Tranquility hovers on the periphery of your life with every intention of calling out your name. It’s waiting for you with open arms.
In the evenings, John takes you upstairs to the bedroom and pries you open enough to fit himself in. His mouth blazes a trail across your body, sucking your nipples until they’re beaded, wetting his beard with the essence of your pleasure, and bringing you to the brink of completion time and again before pushing you over.
After a while, he leaves a piece of himself behind.
Weeks pass and the seasons change. The changes you notice in your body are physical as well as emotional. At some point since coming home, you must have started to unwind. Shoulders loosening up, knots melting down your back. Is it just you, or does the air smell fresher too?
You pin the laundry up on the clothesline and wait for your husband to come home. The sun sets earlier these days with autumn just around the corner. Already the leaves have begun to redden and brown, some breaking off from the branches altogether and floating to the ground where you know eventually they’ll rot and dissolve into the earth, starting the cycle of death and rebirth all over again.
Winter is fast approaching and you know this one will be tough with a little one on the way. You’ve already started preparing for the winter months—canning and storing corn and potatoes and other root vegetables harvested from your garden, making preserves from the fruits of autumn—apples and pears sealed in jars of thick syrup—and filling the cellar with barrels of salted and cured meats. In town, you visit the seamstress for clothes of thicker material and leave with an armful of wool flannel petticoats, fur-trimmed bonnets, and corsets of a heavier cotton coutil.
You rest a hand on your belly as you stare off into the distant mountains. Even the sky darkens earlier these days. When all of the laundry is pinned on the line, you pick up the wicker basket resting by your feet and bring it back inside, shuffling into the kitchen to get started on supper.
There’s still much that needs to be done before winter arrives. Firewood to be chopped, furs and blankets to be hung on the walls, the fireplace to be swept, and more. Enough to keep you busy and your mind occupied when you aren’t bent over a book because that’s also your reality these days. The librarian in town now knows you by name and knows to set aside a few books a week for you to pick up when you pass by with Kate.
You don’t think much of the knock at the door at first, absent-mindedly thinking that it must be a neighbor come to visit. Only when you open the door to an unfamiliar face do you pause.
It’s a woman, not too dissimilar in looks from you. A bit taller, but otherwise if someone were to describe you from looks alone, they might be tempted to use the same words for either of you. She stands on your porch with a suitcase held by her side, a light sheen of sweat on her forehead from the short trip from town. She dabs her forehead lightly with a handkerchief before pocketing it again.
“Hello there,” she greets, a bright smile on her face. “I’m looking for John Price. I was told he lives here?”
For a moment, all you can do is stare at her nonplussed, not understanding why a strange woman might be at your door asking for your husband in such a familiar way. It takes a moment for it to sink in. Then the light goes on and your confusion shifts to disbelief with a twinge of rage.
“We’re engaged to be married,” the other woman hurries to explain, taking a step closer, foot wedged in the door almost as if intending to barge right in.
Her gall nearly makes you lose your temper. Months ago, you might’ve welcomed her arrival, eager to prove to John that you weren’t the woman that he mistook you for so that you could be on your merry way. But that time has long since passed. There isn’t anywhere else in the world you’d rather be than here. You’ve put roots down, entrenched yourself in every way.
Your lips pull into a hard line, face set in stone. “You must be mistaken. He’s already married.”
She blinks, uncomprehending. “That’s…—are you sure? We’ve been corresponding. I know I’m a few months late, but I was held up back in—”
You cut her off by sticking out your hand, topaz ring shining bright on your third finger. “I’m sure. But thank you for stopping by; I’ll let John know you send your apologies.”
And with that, you shove her foot out with yours and shut the door on her face. On another day, you’ll allow yourself to feel guilty for your rudeness; for now, this is your happy ending to enjoy.
And savor it, you will.
#ceil writing#cod x reader#price x reader#price/reader#john price x reader#price x you#john price x you#john price x y/n
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It's a Love Story - Chapter 4
Summary:
Azriel's shadows find their master a wife.
Azriel would just really like his heart not to get broken again.
And Sky...well, she's just really surprised that that far too handsome male is interested in her at all.
Warning:
Rhys Bashing (as usual), I classified this as Azriel x OC, even when it't technically Azriel x Sellyn Drake (but we kinda know nothing about Sellyn Drake other than that she writes books so Sky is kinda an OC), Cassian is kinda a good guy for once, Azriel has a horrible time, as usual... Stuttering, toxic families (For once I do not mean the IC), Self-Esteem Issues, Secret Identity, Body Image Issues, Fat Shaming, People being utterly horrible.
If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.
In that moment, Sky’s brain didn't function.
She just sat there, staring at the gorgeous, gorgeous male across from her. She couldn’t think. Not when he looked like that. Not when he looked better than any figment her imagination had ever come up with…
He was…the most beautiful male Skylar Alden had ever seen.
Everything about him was perfection. From his inky black hair, to his high, chiseled cheekbones, to his...his strong broad body that looked like it was just made to be pressed right up against hers. Gods...he looked like he was made from her deepest fantasies. He was...he was…
And then he gave her a slow, soft smile and her breath caught in her throat.
Cauldron, he was beautiful. Like every perfect fantasy she had ever had come to life.
And he smelled even better than he looked, the scent of cedar and mist so mouthwateringly delicious she wanted to lick it straight off his damn skin. How a male could look this sinfully gorgeous and smell just as delicious, she didn't know. And he...he was smiling at her. Smiling at...her.
And she could feel the bond.
She could feel it.
Something…just clicked into place. Something in her chest shifted and it felt right and perfect and she just knew.
Sky just knew that nobody else would ever come close to compare to him…
This was the male for her. He...he was hers.
Hers.
Her mate.
Sky was a hopeless romantic. Maybe she needed to be that, so that she was able to write love stories for a living.
She loved love. She loved the whole fairytale, happily ever after fantasy. And looking at the male in front of her, it was like he came straight from the pages of her books.
But things like this didn’t happen to girls like her. She knew that. She knew that so well. She… he wasn’t going to want to…
Sky wasn't attractive enough, not interesting enough. Why would he choose her? Why would this gorgeous, gorgeous thing of beauty want to be with...someone like her?
It wouldn’t make sense. She wasn't...she wasn't anything special. He could do so much better than...than her.
She was so awkward, so plain. He was just...way out of her league.
“What’s wrong?” He asked her. Even his voice was perfect. One hand reached out for her, and she weakly registered the violent scars that covered it. They looked like they must have hurt. And then he seemingly thought better about it. “You…were happy.Now…”
That was the problem. She couldn't stop her stupid thoughts. They just kept on running through her brain, making her feel...feel self-conscious. Insecure. She was...she was just a mess. Always had been.
And she opened her mouth to respond but no word left her lips, her throat closing as she tried to say even a single sounds.
Tears shot in her eyes. Why? Just for one…just for one fucking time Sky didn’t want every word that left her mouth to be a fight.
But it was. And she tried to say a single thing but her body didn’t allow her, and her heart reatcheted up because she knew that she looked like an idiot but…She couldn't move. Couldn't...couldn't do anything but just sit there and cry like the pathetic, stupid mess she was. She didn't deserve him. He was...he was perfect. And Sky was just...useless.
He was just staring at her, looking...worried, probably so confused about why she was being like this.
Stupid. So stupid. Like she always was. The tears kept falling, and she felt pathetic. So, so pathetic.
Her eyes closed as she fought back a sob, biting her lip so hard she tasted blood. It was...it was too humiliating, being like this in front of him. She probably looked like a total freak. She...she just wished he didn't have to see her like this.
He shouldn't have to see her like this, see her being an absolute mess because she didn't know how to act like a normal person. She could feel him move, and her breath hitched. He...he was probably about to leave. She...she didn't blame him, really. She was an embarrassment.
But then a warm, broad hand was on top of her own trembling fingers, covering her with his own. Her eyes flew open from the shock, her lips parting in surpris, his gorgeous eyes fixed on hers as he gently stroked the back of her hands with his thumb.
“Take a deep breath, love. It’s alright,” he soothed her softly. “It’s alright.”
She could feel her heart flutter as his voice washed over her, warm like a balm over a burn. It just made her want to cry even more, because he...he was being so nice. So gentle with her, even though he probably thought that she was being utterly ridiculous.
“I…I….I am so….so…sorry.” Her stutter was so bad. Clearly at its worst. Worse than it even was when she didn’t have enough sleep.
She felt tears sliding down her cheeks even harder, her vision getting blurry as she tried to avoid his eyes. Her stupid, stupid stutter always got worse when she was upset. Like her brain shut down and she just...lost the ability to form basic sentences.
She tried to calm down, tried to stop crying, but it just kept going. The tears didn't stop, and god, she must've looked completely pathetic.
"I'm s-sorry." she sobbed, her voice a wretched, strangled sound as she tried to stop the shaking that wracked her entire body. She just wanted...she just wanted to be calm. To be normal.
And he had probably even heard Claire. Had probably heard every barbed word her sister had thrown in her direction.
The thought made her want to wail as the tears fell harder, her breathing growing laboured and uneven. He would never want her now. Not after she had embarrassed herself like this. Not after she just...sat here and cried and stuttered like an idiot.
She tried to pull away from his grasp, but he didn't let her, gently taking her hands in his. His fingers felt so warm on hers, and his touch was so, so gentle. It just made the tears fall even harder, an ugly, broken sound wrenching from her throat.
Sky wanted to stop, she wanted to stop crying and being so hysterical, but her stupid, worthless brain wouldn't co-operate.
And then suddenly he enveloped her against a broad chest, strong arms settling sround her. He was hugging her
It was like every fiber of her being froze, her heart nearly stopping as she felt his arms encircle her. It was like...like some kind of dream. He was hugging her, hugging her like she was precious to him, like he...he truly cared about her. After all of Sky’s awkwardness, and stupid, pathetic crying...he still was holding her like this.
“Breath,” he told her softly. “It’s alright. Whatever is wrong, we’ll fix it.”
She took a deep, trembling breath, his scent washing over her. It was like he was everywhere, his arms tight and yet gentle around her, his broad chest pressed against hers, his cedar and mist scent in her nose. It just...it just made the tears fall all the more harder, a small, broken sob wringing itself from her throat.
Of course, his scent was just as amazing as he was. And it made her feel...feel safe. Like nothing could hurt her as long as he was there, like he would protect her from everything and anything.
She buried her head in his chest, trying to block out the rest of the world as she held onto him so tightly she was sure she was probably hurting him. But still he didn't move, still he let her cling to him as she cried so hard it made her shake.
For once in her life Sky felt delicate in his grasp. She wasn’t thin at all, but against him…she felt small. She felt so safe pressed against him.Secure. Like she could let him hold her forever as she sobbed so hard she was practically convulsing. She knew he probably thought she was being pathetic, but still...but still, he was hugging her.
It was like she couldn't breathe. Her heart was hammering so hard against her ribcage that it hurt to even draw in oxygen, her emotions completely overwhelming her.
She could feel his fingers running through her brown curls, and the touch just made her cry even harder. She must have looked so awful, so miserable, but he just...he just held her like this. Like she mattered to him, like she wasn't a total, pathetic mess.
And finally…finally Sky managed to calm down.
It took a long while, but eventually, the sobs eased into small, shallow breaths as she curled up against his strong chest. Sky still felt...awful. Like a total idiot. But at least the tears had stopped.
“I….i am sor…sorry.” She managed to bring out.
“There is nothing you need to apologise for,” he told her gently, one hand still delicately rubbing her spine.
“I…I cri…cried all o…over you.”Her voice sounded scratchy and broken from all the crying, and she was so deeply ashamed of it. He probably thought she sounded ridiculous. But she took another deep breath and pressed on, trying to speak through her tears, her stupid stutter still making it hard for her to even form a single word.
He held out a handkerchief for her and she whiled away the tears.
She blinked a few times, staring at the piece of fabric. He...he was giving her something to dry her tears, because she was such a pathetic mess that she had completely soaked the front of his shirt. Shame made heat rise in her cheeks, but she took the handkerchief from him.
She dabbed away at her wet lashes, her voice weak and raspy as she spoke. "T-thank you," she said quietly, still not being able to meet his eyes. She still felt so humiliated, but also so, so grateful that he was still here, that he hadn't left yet.
Sy knew she probably looked completely dreadful, all red-eyed and blotchy from all the crying, her hair mess and tangled from where he had run his fingers through it.
She wanted to curl up and die from the shame of it all. Of being such a stupid, messy, emotional wreck. She must have looked like such an idiot, but somehow, somehow he was still here.
"Will you tell me your name?" he asked her softly.
Sky felt her heartbeat quicken as he spoke, as his voice washed over her. Of course. Of course he didn't even know her name. She had been so caught up in her little pity party that she hadn't even introduced herself yet. A fresh wave of tears filled her eyes, but she blinked them away as best as she was able.
"S---Sky," she managed to bring out. She grimaced at her stutter. "S...Sorry." She didn't dare to try and say anything else. Didn't dare to try an ask him for his name, because otherwise she was going to stutter even more.
"There is absolutely nothing you need to apologise for," he repeated fiercely. "I am Azriel."
His words made something in her heart quicken, her stomach fluttering in a way that it shouldn't. A small, shaky breath left her lips at the sound of his name, and she couldn't help but repeat it to herself quietly in her head. Azriel. His name suited him perfectly.
She looked up at him, finally looking at him properly, only to find that he was looking right back at her, those deep, hazel eyes fixed on her in a way that made her heart stutter in her chest. She probably looked awful, a total wreck, and yet he was still looking at her like that.
She opened her mouth to try and speak, but only a tiny, broken squeak left her lips. So she tried again, forcing the words out from between her lips. "Azriel." His name felt so good on her lips, even if her voice broke on the second syllable, but still, she had managed to say it.
He smiled that beautiful smile of his once more, and the sight of it made her want to cry all over again. How was it that this perfect male was still here, was still looking at her like...like she was something precious? Like she was anything other than a total wreck?! She just...she just wanted to die from the humiliation of it all.
"Tell me what's wrong." It wasn't as much a statement as much as it was an order. "You were happy. And then you just..."
She sniffled, trying to stop herself from crying even more than she already had. It was hard, her eyes blinking as tears continued to well up and fall. "It's..." She took in a raspy, stuttering breath, her lips trembling. "It's ju…ju…st...just me being...being stu…stupid."
"Somehow I find that hard to believe," Azriel responded, his voice flat. "Take a deep breath. And then tell me what's wrong so I can fix this."
She blinked a few times, looking at him. He was so...straightforward. Direct. So commanding, but also so gentle. Like he actually cared. She felt...she felt so, so unworthy of that. She didn't deserve his kindness, not after acting like a complete lunatic. Still, she obeyed, taking a deep, shaky breath before trying to speak.
"You...You de…de…deserve bet…better than…than me," she whispered. Her voice was quiet, little more than a whisper, and she felt her throat thicken as she spoke. It was true, and she...she couldn't believe he was being so gentle with her. Not with how ridiculous she was being.
He stared at. "What."
She looked down, focusing her eyes on her hands that were clutched in her lap. His own hand was still resting gently on the nape of her neck. "I...I am..." She took a deep breath, forcing herself to try to explain. "You...You…you are…you. And I…I am…me.” He was so handsome. And she wasn’t beautiful in the slightest.
Sky blinked a few times, trying not to start crying even more than she had already done. It was just so...hard. So hard to admit how...how unworthy she was of him. He was amazing, and she was a total mess.
A complete emotional disaster.
And he was going to realise that one day and leave or cheat on her with her sister and that was going to crush her heart and...
She tried so hard to blink away the tears that welled up in her eyes. She knew...she knew that this was just a temporary thing. That he was only being this kind to her out of pity. He would see how awful she truly was, and he would leave, just like everyone else did.
"Cauldron, Love, they really did a number on you," he breathed.
She sniffled, wiping the tears that fell from her cheeks. She knew that. She knew that she was unloveable. That there was something fundamentally wrong with her. And she hated it.
"You…you'll cho…ch…choose s…s…somebody el…else and…and I get it b…but it's go…going to h…hurt and..." she croaked out.
"I am not going to choose somebody else," he cut her off. "You are my mate."
She blinked, her heart stuttering in her chest at his words. It felt...it felt like a dream. It didn't feel real. There was no way, just no way in Hell that someone like him was her mate. She was...there was absolutely no universe where she deserved him.
"That means that until you tell me to disappear off the face of this earth, you are stuck with me," he told her softly. "That means, that I will always choose you. I will always be on your side. I will protect you and I will shelter you."
She just stared at him as her heart hammered so hard against her ribcage that she wanted to pass out. Was he....was...was he being serious? Even as broken and awful as she was...how she had just completely fallen apart in front of him....he was still...he was still saying that she was...was his mate? That he would...that he would always choose her? Protect her...shelter her?
Her side...nobody had ever seemingly been on her side.
"I..." She was at a total loss for words. Him...him wanting to...to protect her? To shelter her? It was everything she had ever wanted. But she was so, so terrified that it was all...temporary. That the moment he saw her for all the broken, damaged things that she really was...that he would leave. Everyone always left.
He lifted his hand and she leaned against it as he cupped her cheek, wiping away even more tears. "You are my mate," Azriel repeated softly. "And if I had dared to approach while your sister was still there, I probably would have wrung your sister’s neck for what she said to you."
Sky felt a small, trembling smile begin to curl at her lips. He...he was her mate. She still couldn't believe it, but there it was. He was her mate, and he actually wanted her. Not only did he want her, but he was willing to...to defend her. To protect her. To stand up for her, even against her own sister. It was more than she could ever have asked for, more than she had ever hoped for herself. And the thought...the thought of that nearly made her cry all over again.
"It's…It’s bet…better to just…to just let Cla…Claire get it out of her sys…system and not inter…in…interrupt her," she said weakly. "She runs out of steam eventual…eventually."
"You shouldn't let her speak to you like that," Azriel said softly, his hand still resting gently against her cheek. "You shouldn't have to endure her venom."
She swallowed thickly, her throat tight. She knew that, she knew that she shouldn't let Claire speak to her in such a horrible way, that she should defend herself. But...but it had just never happened. She had always been too caught up in her own head, too afraid of...of doing something wrong. Of making everything worse instead of better. Because it always seemed to end up worse whenever she tried to stand up for herself.
But...but hearing him say it....hearing him tell her that she didn't have to put up with Claire's horrible words...it made something flutter in her chest. Something akin to hope. The thought that maybe....maybe she didn't need to listen to Claire's vicious words, that maybe...maybe she could stand up for herself after all.
"She's the fa…fa…favourite," she said weakly. "Always…s wa..was. The pret…prettier one."
She sniffled, her stomach twisting at the thought of it. Claire had always been the preferred one, the one that everyone adored. And Skye had always been...well, the other one. The one that nobody wanted to be around, the one that everyone was constantly criticizing.
"She's bone deep ugly," Azriel snapped right back. "There is nothing attractive about her at all." She could just stare at him.
She blinked at him, almost in shock at his words. No one ever said things like that about Claire. Everyone was always so busy praising her beauty and her grace and her charm, but never a single one of them would ever say a single negative thing about her. But here was Azriel, outright saying that Claire wasn't attractive at all. It was...it was hard to even wrap her head around.
"You say tha…that now," Sky said weakly.She swallowed thickly, her heart clenching at the very thought of him ever changing his mind. She knew....she knew that it was a very real possibility. He might think her worthy of him now, but as soon as he got to know her....how pathetic and broken and damaged she was. The thought of losing this....losing him...it made her stomach twist painfully.
She sniffled again, wiping tears away from her cheeks, her voice weak and broken. "You won…won't think tha..that..." she whispered. "When you...when you know me more. You'll think I'm path…pathetic, too. Just like Claire does. Just like every…everyone does."
The words felt like acid in her throat, like a knife twisting through her heart. She knew that it was true, that he would think her pathetic, too. He was only being so kind to her now because he didn't really know her yet. Once he got to know her....once he saw all the broken pieces that made her up....he would realize just how unworthy she was of him.
"I think that you spent your whole life being talked to like that, and that no fucking accolade you ever got was something you take seriously." Azriel's words were harsh, and they made her come up short.
Sky had always thought that maybe...maybe the next time she achieved something her parents would be proud of her. That they would finally tell her that she had done well. But it had never happened. They were never proud of her accomplishments, no matter how good they were. She was never good enough for them, never anything enough for them. They always just...just told her that she needed to do better. That she had the capacity to do better. That it was her fault she hadn't.
And when she had published her first book...she hadn't wanted them to ruin that for her. So she had kept it a secret from them. Then the 2nd. And the 3rd. Book after book after book. People liked what she wrote. People bought her books. And still it felt like...it wasn't real.
No matter how many books she sold, it never felt like it counted. It never felt like she had actually achieved something. And no matter how much money she had in the bank, no matter how well she fed herself or kept a roof over her head, it just...it all felt like it was built on a fragile foundation. Like it could all come falling down around her at any moment, leaving her alone, cold, and broken.
Just like how this mating bond could seemingly break just at a snap of his fingers.
That feeling only got worse when she thought about the bond between her and Azriel. It was so new, so fragile, and she knew that he could break it if he wanted to. He didn't have to keep it, didn't have to stay by her side. He could just...just walk away and leave her in the dust. The thought made her stomach clench painfully, her eyes stinging with more tears.
"I don't want your sister. I want you," he told her softly. "You are my mate, Sky. Turn me down if you don't want me, but don't do it because you think that I don't want you. Because I do. I have never wanted anything in my life more."
His words made her heart sing, the warmth of them filling her chest to bursting. She...she didn't think she had ever been wanted in her entire life. Her parents had always been so quick to shove her aside, to tell her that she was worthless and a failure. But Azriel....he actually wanted her. He actually saw something worth keeping in her. It was more than she had ever dreamed of, the thought so impossibly perfect that it made her feel like she was going to burst into tears all over again.
Sky just stared at him, unsure of what to say, how to respond to such an open expression of adoration from him. She had never been good at accepting compliments or affection, her automatic response was always to push it away. But here was Azriel, telling her that he wanted her, that she was his mate. And how could she even think about pushing that away? How could she even consider rejecting the best thing that had ever happened to her? It was an impossible thought, one that left her feeling awed and speechless.
So instead of saying anything, Sky simply reached for him, wrapping her arms around him and hugging him tightly, burying her face in his neck. She felt safe here, in his arms, like nothing could hurt her as long as he was holding her close. And in that moment, she felt more than anything that this, this was where she belonged.
In his arms, with Azriel as her mate. It was everything she had ever wanted, and she was determined to hold onto it as tightly as she possibly could.
"I won't ev..ever turn you down," she whispered. "I was waiting for you for de…decades."
"Decades? Try half a millennia," Azriel responded.
Azriel's words made her heart stutter in her chest, her stomach twisting with butterflies. He...he had waited for her for so long?
All that time, he had been waiting patiently for his mate, and that mate had been her? It was more than she could even wrap her head around. She had always thought that no one would ever want her, that she was destined to be alone, and yet here he was, telling her that he had been waiting for her for centuries.
So Sky just clung to him, her eyes stinging with a fresh wave of tears. She couldn't believe it, couldn't believe that she was actually so important to someone. That she had actually been....been wanted by someone.She felt so unbelievably lucky, and all she wanted to do was hold on to this feeling for as long as possible. This feeling of being loved and wanted and...and worthy.
She sat back, even when she wanted nothing else but to keep being held by him, managing a weak smile. Sky couldn’t help but stare at him, couldn’t help but take in the black hair and dark hazel eyes that glinted green…and then her gaze snagged at the pair of massive, ferocious wings that sprouted from his back.
“You are Il…Illyrian?” she asked, surprise colouring her voice.
She didn't know why she was so surprised. Maybe because because there weren’t a lot of illyrians that lived in Velaris…maybe because he really didn’t seem to match the picture that most books she had read about them and their culture painted about them.
His wings were… magnificent. Azriel’s wings were so massive, so huge and powerful, and they seemed to span an impossible distance even when he had them folded carefulyl against his back.
“What gave it away?” He quipped, though the ere was a grimace on his face. “I am not…whatever you may have heard…”
She flinched slightly, feeling a small pang of guilt at her reaction to his wings. She knew that Illyrians had a reputation for being brutal and ruthless, but she hadn't meant to make Azriel feel uncomfortable or ashamed of his heritage.
"I am sor…sorry," she said sheepishly. “I was…just su…surprised. There aren’t a lot of Il…Illyrians around Velaris. I've never seen wings like yours before, j…just read about them. They're beautiful."
She looked up at him, hoping that he could see the sincerity in her gaze. She didn't want him to feel like she was judging him based on his species, or that she was scared of him just because he was Illyrian or a lesser Fae.
“I…I got some River Nymph blood some…somewhere down the line,” she told him.”It’s the family s…scandal.”
He chuckled at that, even as he mustered her.“Your eyes,” he realised aloud, and she nodded
She blushed slightly, her heart leaping at the thought of him noticing such a small detail about her. To know that he had taken the time to observe her eyes, to notice the faint turquoise hue that came from the bit of River Nymph blood flowing through her veins, regardless of how diluted it was…It made her feel like he truly saw her, not just the broken, damaged parts of her, but everything that made her who she was.
“Gre…Great grandma from my dads s..side,” she explained. “I was the only one who got the eyes…and the bendy bones.” She had always been seen as the odd one in her family. The outcast. Growing up, it had been hard to know where she fit in. Her parents had always been so focused on her brother and her sister, on their achievements and successes, and she had always felt like she was just...there. Just existing in the background, never quite good enough to be noticed or noticed for all the wrong reasons.
“Tell me more,” Azriel requested softly, reaching out to hold her hand again.
“More of what?” she wondered, blushing slightly.
“More about you. I want to know everything.”
Her heart skipped a beat at his request. He...he wanted to know more about her? He actually wanted to listen to her, to hear what she had to say? The thought was almost enough to make her cry all over again. No one had ever asked her about herself before, no one had ever expressed an interest in her life or her thoughts. She had always been the one listening to others, never the one being listened to…especially not with her stutter.
”I am not that interes…interesting,” Sky said weakly.She had always been self-conscious about what she liked and didn't like, always been afraid that others would judge her for her preferences. Even the thought of telling Azriel what she enjoyed doing for fun made her feel nervous and unsure. She didn't want him to think she was boring or uninteresting, and yet...and yet she also wanted to be honest with him. She wanted him to know who she really was, even if that meant showing all her quirks and flaws.
“I write boo…books for a..for a living,” Sky told him “R…Romance novels. And I have a cat named Hector that’s …that’s ador…adorable.”
Azriel grinned at her. “I can’t wait to meet him.” She blushed at that thought.
She had always been nervous about talking to people, about opening up and letting them know who she was, but with Azriel...it felt different. It felt right.
“What…What do you do?” Sky wondered quietly.
“I work for the High Lord,” Azriel answered. “I…gather intelligence, I guess you could say.”
"Intelligence?" she asked curiously. She had never heard of anyone who did something like that before. It sounded like a dangerous job, one that required a lot of skill and training. Azriel nodded, his expression serious.
"Yes. I gather information about...about threats to our court. About the dangers that lurk in the world around us."
She shivered slightly at the thought of some of the dangers that Azriel had to face on a regular basis. On the things that he was confronted with every single way…He was doing what was necessary to protect their people from harm. SHe knew that it must took a lot of courage and determination to do a job like that, and she couldn’t help but feel a wave of respect for him.
Sky took a deep breath, "Is it....is it danger…dangerous? Gathering all that…all that information?" She asked nervously. "I…I mean, do…do you ev…ever...get hurt?"
Azriel's expression darkened, and he hesitated for a moment before answering. "Sometimes," he admitted. "There are always risks involved in what I do. I have been injured before, but I have also been very lucky. I have survived so far."
She shivered at the thought of him being hurt, of him being in danger. Sky couldn't bear the thought of him being harmed, of him being in pain. She wanted to protect him, to keep him safe from all the horrors of the world. It was a feeling she had never experienced before, this overwhelming need to protect someone else. But with Azriel, she felt it with every fiber of her being. She would do anything to keep him safe, to make sure he never got hurt again.
Sky took his hand in hers, gripping it tightly. "Please…Please be careful," she whispered, her eyes full of fear and worry. "I…I don't want an…anything to happen to you." I don't want to lose you. The words were unspoken, but she knew that he could hear them in her voice, in the way her fingers trembled against his.
“I am careful,” he promised her seriously. “Besides, I am not exactly on my own,” he told her seriously.
She raised an eyebrow, curiosity getting the better of her. "You…You're not on…on your own?" she asked, surprised. "Who…Who do you work with then?"
A moment later…she got her answer in the form of wreathing shadows, that welled up behind him.
For a moment Sky could just blink.
Then: “You are a shadowsinger?!” She breathed in wonder.
She had read about it, of course…when she had a whole phase of thinking how cool it would be if she had some kind of special powers. Sadly, there never had any manifested. No shadows for her…or mind reading either.
Azriel chuckled softly at her reaction. "Yes," he said simply. "It's a useful skill in my line of work."
She stared at him in awe. She had read stories of the fabled shadowsingers, of their ability to control shadows and use them to do their bidding. But she had never actually met one before. They were…stupidly rare.” But clearly Azriel was one.
“Do…Do they…talk to you?” She asked him curiously.
Azriel nodded, a smile tugging at his lips. "Yes, they do," he said. "They have their own personality and quirks, and I can communicate with them in a way that no one else can. It's a unique connection, one that I…I have grown to cherish."
They were important to him.
So Sky did the only polite thing. “It’s…nice to meet you.” She greeted them, holding out a hand.
Azriel's shadows seemed to pause for a moment, as if taken aback by her greeting. Then they swirled around her, brushing against her skin in a gesture of introduction.
She couldn't help but smile at the sensation of the shadows brushing against her skin, their touch neither hot nor cold. They seemed almost sentient, like they had a mind of their own. It was both strange and fascinating at the same time. "Do you have…a name?" she asked curiously.
Azriel chuckled. "No, they don’t have a name. It's just...the shadows."
She nodded in understanding. They did seem…weirdly alive. And they were so responsive to Azriel's commands, so attuned to his needs and desires, that it was hard not to think of them as a separate entity in their own right.
But still…as she wiggled her fingers and the shadows wove between them, she couldn’t help but wonder…
"What...what d…do you wan..want from me?" Sky asked him softly. What did he want? What did he expect?
Azriel's expression softened, and he reached out to cup her cheek gently in his hand. "I want...I want whatever you are willing to give me," he said quietly. "I want to be there for you, to support you and protect you. I want to make you happy, to make you feel loved and cherished. And I want...I want to be your mate, if you'll have me."
Sky bit her lip, leaning into his touch. "I…I want that t…too," she admitted quietly. "And I really want a family one day. I want kids," she told him.
"I want that too," he said softly, his voice full of warmth and love. "I want everything with you, Sky. All of it."
She couldn't help but smile at that admission. Hearing him say that He wanted the same thing, hearing him say that He wanted to build a future with her...it was like a dream come true. And then Skylar Alden who had always overthought everything in her life, made this one decision: "Then take me home."
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