#my take on a season 2 extended cold open

[greenpurplemylove]

What Lovers Do (PJS)♥️

→ masterlist.

→ pairings: non idol! situationship! jay x female! reader.

synopsis: There was only one thing left to do when two friends finally confess that they like each other after all the endless chasing about and beating around the bush. Though it wasn't like how it traditionally went, like on a bed or in a fancy hotel room. You and Jay knew it would be wasteful to go back to yours or his apartment, not when the view of the beach at 02:00 AM in the morning hits different.

→ genre: friends to lovers! smut, and fluff. -> now playing: Diet Pepsi, Addison Rae/Forrest Gump, Frank Ocean.

-> wc: 5,8k

warnings: SMUT, swearing, car sex, car sex by the beach, dom! jay x sub! slightly switch! reader, slight cockwarming, riding, unprotected sex (wrapeth t bef're thee tapeth t), creampie, fingering, mutual masturbation, mentions of skinny dipping and pet names (baby, pretty girl, darling).

-> A/N: after a season of midterms, a breakup and a series of procrastinations later, I've finally completed the last chapter. good news is y'all don't rly have to read part 1 dan part 2 (but if you want to, I'd say be my guest honestly) to understand what's going on in this story cause this is like smut with very little plot. this is my first smut ever so anyways I'm rly sorry if it isn't perfect, nonetheless I do hope y'all enjoy it though. much love, Cher🫶

♥️

Seeing two people being in denial that they’re actually obsessed with each other is frustrating.

Especially if those two people are practically close friends.

Take you and your friend, Park Jongseong, for example.

You’ve been friends with Park Jongseong since freshman year of college.

Maybe it was due to the fact that your friend groups were practically mushed together and that you’d more often than not end up in the same class he was taking.

With what originally started with strictly exchanging the notes you took during class, slowly melted away into long and deep texts, conversations, even playful arguments about each others pasts and interests.

But what he didn’t know was that you’ve always secretly admired him.

At first you didn’t want to think the admiration you had for him was romantic, but overtime it grew difficult for you to maintain a merely platonic admiration.

He was a nice guy you have to admit, and the fact that he was practically gorgeous made things all the more difficult for you in maintaining that so called ‘platonic’ gaze.

And it didn’t help with the fact that he was such a gentleman to you as well.

Always opened doors for you.

Paying extra attention towards you whenever you needed his help.

And always letting you order first whenever you needed to go somewhere for lunch in between classes.

Even offering to pay for your meals.

It was difficult. Very difficult, for you to not fall for him.

You find yourself looking at him from afar with rose tinted glasses, your day got a little brighter every time the two of you exchanged glances and smiles,

your heart would skip a beat every time his name was mentioned in any given situation,

and most importantly, you wanted to be near him all the time.

Naturally, you grew closer to him.

Overtime it felt strange, how you noticed his smile seemed to linger longer whenever he was looking in to you so deeply,

or how close your bodies were whenever you’d talk to him for an extended period of time.

The questions started to beckon in your head, was this his way of flirting with you?

And to answer that question. Yes, yes it was.

The reason being none other than because he has a crush on you. But being the outwardly cold person that he is, he didn’t wanted to admit that.

Cause there’s a small part of him that was a little scared you wouldn’t feel the same way he did.

He’d look at you from afar and a small smile would creep onto his face.

He would think about how pretty you looked on that day before he fell asleep at night.

And you’d be the first person that comes to his mind the moment he opens his eyes the next morning.

He would pay extra attention to the things you liked and didn’t like. Memorizing your favorite lunch order. Always saving a seat for you next to him.

Always saving an extra gum in his bag because he knows you’d sometimes forget to bring yours to class,

and that he knows you have this bad habit of chewing the cap of your pen in the middle of class whenever you forgot to bring in your gum.

Mind you he also initially wanted to keep things platonic in fear of ruining the bond you’ve pretty much grown into overtime, but it was hard to keep those feelings at bay when you’re always so close to him.

After a while of teasing, lingering smiles, and small flirtatious gestures. You both were still in denial if wether or not the feeling was mutual.

It wasn’t until one drunk night at Sunghoon’s house, where you basically made out and almost had sex with him on Sunghoon’s upstairs couch that made you realize that you both felt the same way about each other.

Well, knowing he didn’t push you away when you were practically sitting on his lap and guiding his hand up your shirt and all.

After that night you both knew you couldn’t just pretend that it never happened,

so, stupidly enough, the two of you kept on teasing each other for a little while.

Hinting bits and pieces of your private lives, purposefully making the other jealous in hopes that the other would confess first because the both of you were stubborn as hell about your feelings.

When the both of you know fully well, you would be down to fuck from dusk to dawn.

It felt like playing a chess game with Jay during those times.

A romantic, for the most parts sexual tension filled game of chess with Jay.

And yet all the games, all the strategies, plans and moves you had all up in your head with Jay has led you here.

Half naked on his lap in his car by the beach at 2 AM, with his lips messily clinging to yours.

Both of your cheeks flushed. Breaths heavy as the windows started to fog. With his hands fondling with your bare breasts.

Your arms clinging onto his shoulders for dear life as your both tongue deep into the kiss.

You both knew at one point it’ll all lead up to this.

But that never stopped either one of you from pushing the boundaries of your ‘friendship’ more and more.

From the longing stares and touches across the hallways to the private moments that had you on the edge of your seat.

All of those moments has led you here, with your body sensually placed on top of his.

“Jay.” you moaned his name softly when you felt his thumb swiping against your hardened nipples as he trailed kisses from your jaw before nipping the back of your ear.

He felt his pants getting tighter by the minute, his dick growing hard at the sound of you moaning his name.

His hands traveled lower and lower down your pants as his palms settled on your ass making you gasp silently, while his mouth travelled down to your neck.

Kissing and sucking on it feverishly as if he was pouring all of his pent up desire to you after all this time.

“So pretty for me y/n.” he whispered against your neck, leaving a light trail of hickeys down your neck as your fingers caressed the back of his hair before trailing to the hem of his shirt.

Sneakily putting your fingers below the hem just to feel his bare skin against the palm of your hand.

You could feel his lips curl into a smirk against your neck as he pulled away, a playful smirk plastered onto his face as he sat up straight.

His hands trailed down to the bottom hem of his shirt but not before your hands replaced what was supposed to be his.

He looked at you surprised by your boldness as you took of his shirt, the muscles on his chest and arms contorting as you did,

feeling the tent that was forming in your panties grow wetter as you discarded his shirt to the side.

The sound of the ocean behind you long blurred into the background as he smiled up at you, caressing your thighs as he watched your every move.

Leaning back onto the chair behind him, your fingers caressed the abdomen of his chest,

feeling his chest rising and falling as his honey like skin emitted an inviting glow under the moonlight.

Your finger trailed lower and lower, from his toned stomach to the buckle of his belt,

lacing your fingers on to it.

You wanted to remove his belt from his pants, that was until his hand held yours, stopping you from going any further.

“I think I can handle that y/n.” he spoke in a sultry tone as he eyed your fingers, caressing them gently before undoing his belt.

Your hands then trailed slowly from the fabric under his belt, to the fabric that covered his prominent bulge.

Purposefully teasing him as you traced your fingers around his bulge.

His breath hitched in his throat as he leaned his head back and sighed, feeling your fingertips undressing his pants.

“I thought couples help take their partners clothes off when they’re gonna have sex?” you murmured as you flashed him a smirk.

“Oh, so we’re a couple now?” he teased, grinning at you flirtatiously.

You sighed in disbelief as you rolled your eyes.

You knew he was the type of person who’d tease from time to time, but you never thought he’d tease you at a time where you were completely vulnerable to him.

“Are you really gonna tease me at a time like this?” you whispered as your lips curl into a small sly smile while your fingers caressed his hair.

He smiled at you before he sat up straight, cupping your cheeks as he captured your lips in his.

Passion surging over you as your hands wrapped around his neck, taking his lips in deeper.

His hands soon trailed down from your body to your hips, giving it a firm squeeze before trailing his fingers to the button of your pants,

unbuttoning it and gently, stripping it off of your body as your purple lacy underwear came into view.

Pulling away from your lips, his eyes soon caught the attention of your undergarments,

pupils dilating as his fingers traced the hem of it, groaning as his eyes rolled back as your hips came down to grind on his clothed cock.

Purple. His favorite color.

Whether you intentionally wore it for him or out of pure coincidence, it made him incredibly harder than he already was before.

So hard that his pants felt uncomfortable against his now fully hardened cock.

But he knew better than to rush this moment like a casual hook up.

This was his crush. The women he’d fawn over since freshman year.

His close friend. Y/N.

He knew what you like and what you didn’t like from the back of his head,

from all the times you’ve told him stories about your casual hook ups every now and then.

He’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t go home most nights feeling jealous of how other guys could touch you so undeservingly,

at other nights he spent dreaming of how much he could fuck you better than any other guy,

and at some nights the jealousy and all the pent up feelings he had for you brewed to such intensity that he had no other option than to fist his cock in the shower,

thinking about fucking you all to himself.

And here you finally were, on top of him; your hands gripping onto his shoulders, your cheeks flushed as you turned away rather shyly,

your bare breasts all in display for him and your soaked pussy just inches away from his clothed cock.

All for himself.

It was like a wet dream come true to him.

Lust dipped into his pupils as he caressed the band of your panties,

staring in awe at the lacy fabric at hand before setting the band aside, revealing your already drenched cunt.

He groaned at the sight of it. Wanting nothing more than to stuff your pussy full of his cock.

Feeling his dick twitch uncomfortably in his slacks, he lifted his hips as he stripped down his trousers,

feeling himself grow impatient at the sight of your slick glisten, barely an inch from his thighs.

Leaving his pants bare on the floor of his backseat before dipping his fingers in between your drenched folds.

You sighed and bit your lip as a response. Turning away rather shyly.

His fingers soon laced on to your chin, forcing you to look at him.

It felt like time had slowed as he looked at you, his mouth opened, his lips puffy, and his gaze intense as he eyed you lustfully.

He had wanted, yearned for you even for so long, and now you were finally his.

There was nothing more he could’ve asked for in this moment.

He eyed your expression as he continued rubbing your folds, eyes closed and lips swollen from all the kissing and bitting,

he gradually slid his middle finger in back and forth, but not enough to satisfy how much you wanted him to touch you.

“Jay, please,” you exhaled as you eyed the motion of his fingers, holding onto the back of the front seat for support.

He caressed you so sensually, feeling the pleasure surging at the pit of your stomach,

it drove you almost insane on top of him. “don’t tease me.”

“I won’t baby.” he cooed as his other fingers moved from your chin to your hips,

his thumb rubbing circles on your clit as your mouth opened in pleasure.

The new nickname felt foreign to your ears, but nonetheless it made your pussy throb just for him.

“Jay,” you moaned lowly, gripping onto his arm.

Dipping his finger into you, you rolled your eyes back and bit your bottom lip, gently tugging on his hair,

feeling yourself melting into his touch as your hips thrusted slowly, almost in sync with the movement of his fingers.

He sighed, leaning his head back against the seat as his eyes rolled to the back of his head, feeling his cock twitch at the sight.

His fingers went in and out deep inside you, curling at you in all the right spots as the band of your panties grew wet from your slick cascading down his fingers.

Your face flushed, hips circling his fingers like a pretty doll as he looked at how drenched his finger were from slipping in and out of your walls.

He smirked up at you, enjoy seeing his effect on you.

It made him feel in control and powerful, subtly feeding his ego,

taking pride in how easy it was to have you squirming around his fingers.

Lifting his back towards you, pressing your lips onto his into a clingy hot mess of a kiss.

Slipping another finger inside of you, you moaned into the kiss as he used it as an opportunity to slip his tongue inside of your mouth, never giving you a moments rest.

Feeling your hardened nipples softly grazing against his collarbones, he groaned into the kiss adding to the sensation as your hips moved clockwise against his thumb on your clit.

Kissing you oh so passionately, you tugged on his hair before pulling away from your lips, a string of saliva connecting your tongues.

You were rilled up, your soft messy thrust turned precise and angled, almost as if you were waiting for the right moment to return the favor.

And you did so, as you laced your fingers onto the band of his boxers before beckoning him to lift his hips.

He raised an eyebrow at you as the tips of his lips curled, eyeing you curiously as he removed his fingers from your throbbing cunt making you whine silently,

missing the feeling of his fingers around you already as he gripped your waist.

Lifting his hips, he lets you slip your fingers onto the band of his boxers before pulling them down,

just enough to let his hardened cock sprung free from constraint.

Your eyes trailed from tip to the base of his cock, eyes dazed and mouth dry.

The mushroom tip of his dick flushed. A single thick vein trickled down from the bridge to the base of his cock.

He was definitely big.

Not the biggest you’ve ever seen, but he was definitely big enough to have your stomach doing backflips.

All the excitement and nervous tension trickled down onto your cunt, feeling the throbbing sensation swell as you held your breath in for a moment.

Licking your lips at the sight of it, you continued to strip down his pants until they were well past his ankles as he threw them off to the side.

“Like what you see?” he smirked up at you as he firmly held your waist.

“Don’t get cocky Jongseong.” you teased back, a smile creeped onto your face as you leaned closer to him before capturing your lips onto his.

He gripped your hair gently as he leaned your head to the side, deepening the kiss.

Your hands were all over his body, caressing his toned chest and washboard abs as your fingers trailed lower and lower while he sneaks his tongue back into your mouth,

letting out a groan as your thumb caressed dangerously close to the base of his cock.

The kiss soon grew rough and passionate as your tongues intertwined, his shaft grazing against your clit,

pulsating into a frenzy as his hands groped your ass, kneading them roughly all the while his nails were digging into your skin, making your breath hitch at your throat.

“Y/n.” he moaned out as he pulled away from you, feeling the pleasure coursing through out his body.

Rolling his eyes and throwing his head back onto the seat as he watched you, grinding your soaked folds onto his length.

His tip grew red as precum started to leak from his shaft.

“Shit.” he cursed lowly to himself as he eyed the sight in front of him hungrily.

The view in front of him was better than any wet dream he’s ever had of you.

Your fingers pressed against his cock as you grinded your folds against his dick.

Your slick wetting the bridge of his cock as you grind on him up and down, your other hand gripping onto his thigh for dear life as you balanced yourself on top of him.

You were insatiable.

He knew sex wasn’t a new thing for you, but never in his wildest dreams he’d see you like this with his own eyes.

A flushed mess, eyes closed, your bottom lip tucked as you held back your moans while you grind your folds against his cock,

holding yourself back from sinking fully onto his dick when he knows you so desperately want to.

So sweet yet so sinful, your moans and movements were a lingering sugar like addiction to him as he watches you slowly lose yourself on his cock.

And he hasn’t even put his dick inside you yet.

“Tell me what you want.” he whispered as his nails dug into your waist, hands moving in sync with the movement of your hips, guiding it gently as you swayed your hips in a rhythmic pace against his cock.

Your vision grew hazy as you looked at him, blinking once as your eyes were instantly set on his,

his gaze spilling with lust and desire as he looked at you through his hooded eyelids, face flushed,

his lips pink and plump as they formed an ‘o’ shape, exhaling breathlessly as he eyed you so intensely.

His fingers soon replaced yours, holding back his length against your pussy,

watching you soak the bridge of his cock with your throbbing cunt.

You couldn’t take the teasing you inflicted on him anymore, you wanted him inside of you.

You wanted, needed to feel his dick pulsating inside of you.

You needed him.

“Jongseong, please, I wanna ride your dick.” you whined breathlessly as you continued to grind on him, knowing you still wanted to be good for him despite your desperation.

He cursed at himself, your words stripped him bare into utter desire as his fingers laced on to the band of your panties,

stripping them off your body before shoving them to the side as every patience he had in his body melted away into only anticipation, lust and desire.

“Ride me then y/n,” he spoke in a sultry tone as he looked at you through his half lidded eyes, while his hand grasped onto the base of his shaft,

angling his tip onto your entrance, “I’m all yours.”

Goosebumps erupt in your skin as he spoke those words, electrifying the feeling in your stomach as you positioned his tip at your entrance,

lifting your hips, you planted your forehead against his as you slowly started sinking down onto his cock.

Your eyes screwed shut and your mouth hung loose at the sensation as he did the same.

It was right then and there you realized that you’ve underestimated how big he was from the outside as his cock filled you to the brim of your walls.

Stretching you out oh so heavenly as he caressed the sides of your body as an attempt to sooth you while you adjusted yourself to his length.

“Shit.” you cursed as your eyes rolled back and nails dug onto his back.

“Holy fuck, you’re taking me so good y/n.” he spoke as his hands trailed down onto your waist, eyes rolling back and mouth opened the moment you started circling your hips around his dick.

Heavy breaths and strings of moans fogged the windows as you started to slowly bounce on his cock.

His dick filling you up to the brim every time you sank down fully onto him.

The way he was stretching you out felt so heavenly, you wanted more of it. You wanted more of him.

“Shit you’re big.” you whispered in between your moans as you buried your face on the crook of his neck.

The complement fueled his ego as he smirked with pride before being cut short as he groaned, feeling you starting to clamp down on his dick.

The hands that was once your waist, trailed down onto your ass as he gripped them gently making you let out a loud moan,

as his hands started to match with the rhythm of your hips.

His cock twitched at the feeling of your drenched velvety walls soaking his dick. Feeling your slick dripping down his balls.

“Holy shit Jay fuck.” you leaned your head back as your eyes rolled back,

His head dipped down at the sight of your pussy sinking down onto his dick as you lifted your hips,

revealing the sight of his drenched cock before taking him in you again rather eagerly.

“Shit, you feel so fucking good.” he groaned as he fondled with your ass making you moan his name as you continued taking in his dick like it was your last.

Where have you been all his life?

How could he have been stupid enough to not confess his feelings sooner?

A little part of him can only swirl in regret as he watches you bounce on his cock. Flushed. Dazed. And fueled with lust.

Wishing he could’ve pursued you sooner, knowing how good your slick walls felt wrapped around his dick.

“Look at me.” he whispered as you wince onto his shoulders from the overwhelming feeling of his dick stretching your walls,

picking up your pace as you moaned his name making him sigh as he relished himself on the overwhelming pleasure.

He cursed to himself before gently cupping his hand onto your cheek, forcing you to look at him.

“Look at me y/n.” he whispered a little louder as you looked at his hooded eyes.

Holy fuck he’s never looked so hot.

The strands of his hair laced with sweat as his eyes pierced through them like a knife through a curtain, looking into you like you were his favorite pornstar.

His mouth forming an ‘o’ shape as groans, murmurs and profanities slipped pass his lips as you were bouncing on his dick like there was no tomorrow.

He leaned his head back against the seat, bitting his lips as he feels your slick dripping down his balls.

The occasional ‘fuck’s and ‘holy shit’s slipped pass your lips as you rolled your eyes back, head leaned back while your palms were pressed against his toned chest.

The feeling of his length filling you in and out hits you like a tidal wave as you feel the knot in your stomach tighten.

His hands moved to caress the sides of your body, eyeing you lustfully. “So pretty for me,”

“so fucking pretty for me.” he groaned as he fondled your breasts making you moan his name rather loudly at the already overwhelming pleasure.

Your walls clenched around him as your thrusts started to fall out of rhythm, turning sloppier by the second as your sigh and moans grew heavier.

“Tired y/n?” he asked as he cupped your cheek, receiving a weak nod from you as you bit your lip.

“That’s alright baby, I’ll take it from here.” he spoke softly as his fingers trailed to your hips, guiding you to spread your legs a little wider across the seat as you leaned forward,

feeling your chest pressed against his and his lips lingering over your ear, he started kissing and sucking on your neck,

making you close your eyes in pleasure as you succumb to the feeling of his tongue lapping against your neck.

A string of moans and profanities lingered from your lips as you felt him thrusting upwards into your pussy in a slow rhythmic pace.

You feel the air around you grew impossibly thicker as you breathed heavily.

His name slipped from your lips like a mantra, feeling his cock graze near your spot as he place open-mouth kisses against your collarbone and your fingers gripped onto his shoulders for dear life as the sound of the ocean waves creeped onto the back of your ear.

You let out a loud moan as you felt his thrusts grazed onto your spot, your hand that was on his shoulder slitted upwards onto his scalp, tugging on his hair gently as he moaned your name.

“Fuck, Jay, right there.” you moaned quietly into his ear as a small smirk creeped onto his face.

“Right there huh?” he spoke lowly in a playful, almost teasing tone. Gripping onto your hips so tightly as he thrusted onto your spot repeatedly making you cling onto his shoulder,

whimpers and loud moans of his name being the only thing leaving your lips as you no longer cared about the world outside of his car.

Though it was unlikely at this hour, if someone were to catch a glimpse of his car, they would’ve caught on to what was going on inside pretty quickly.

The car was shaking, it was almost in the middle of nowhere and the windows were fogged from the inside shut, covering the both of you from sight.

Though the both of you didn’t seem to care anyways. Too lost in each others presence to care about the world moving along outside of your own.

You nodded as you bit your lip, earning a groan from him as he leaned his head back onto the seat, fondling your ass as profanities slipped pass your lips.

“Shit, Jay!” you cursed as his thrusts grew rougher, hitting your spot over and over again, feeling the knot in your stomach grew impossibly tighter as he fucked you harder.

“Fuck y/n, you feel so good.” he moaned, feeling his grip on your hips tighten as you were certain that there would be bruises afterwards.

“Fuck, Jay.” you repeated his name as your nails tugged onto the blades of his shoulders. Feeling yourself growing closer to your high.

His sharp gaze pierced through the strands of his hair as his mouth hung opened and his eyebrows furrowed, completely lost in the feeling of chasing his own high.

“Tell me what you want.” he groaned lowly as his lips ghosted over your ear. The tone of his voice grew desperate and needy, almost whiny as he felt himself inching closer to his orgasm.

His words were only met with your moans and whines as he felt himself left unsatisfied.

You gasped as you felt his hand suddenly coming down onto your ass rather harshly, feeling your slick drip further down the base of his cock as a result.

“I said, tell me.” he reprimanded as his hand came down onto your ass again, but this time in between his sentences.

You feel yourself becoming flustered at his words, almost too shy to answer his lewd request.

It wasn’t until you felt his dick completely leaving your cunt that made you widen your eyes.

Whining at the loss of your orgasm.

All of a sudden, his lips latched onto your neck as he started sucking and bitting rather harshly making you let out a whine.

“Jay, don’t-” you whined as you tried to position his cock at your entrance, until his hands gripped your hips, completely halting you from reaching your high.

“I’m not letting you,” he whispered in your ear as he licked a stripe up your neck making you let out a moan. “if you don’t tell me what you want.”

At this point you were desperate. Almost too desperate to reach your high. You were willing to do whatever he wanted, just so that you can cum on his dick.

“Shit, I want you Jay.” you whispered as you caressed his toned abs, resulting in him letting out a groan.

You let out a whine as you felt his thumb caressing your slit, fueling the knot in your stomach that was bound to snap at any given moment.

“Please, wanna cum on your dick.” you practically begged, succumbing yourself to his touch.

A smirk plastered on his face as he looked up at you from your neck before positioning his cock at your entrance.

A moan left your lips as you felt his hands guiding your hips to bounce on his cock.

“Tell me again y/n, what do you want?” he asked as you moaned out his name, feeling his cock thrusting into you deeper as he synced his thrusts with your bounces.

Circling your clit faster, hitting your spot rougher and deeper, that you can only moan out in pleasure and desperation.

“Wanna cum, fuck, wanna cum on your dick Jay, please.” you whined as your high came closer and closer with each given thrust and bounce of your hips.

You yelped as his thrust grew faster, animalistic almost. His eyebrows knitted in concentration as his mouth hung opened and his eyes closed shut,

too focused on getting you to cum, too focused on the feeling of how good your pussy was clenching around his dick.

“Shit Jay, gonna cum, wanna cum on your dick.” so close, you felt so close to reaching your high as the knot in your stomach was bound to snap at any moment.

“Cum for me, cum for me y/n.” his words were your undoing. Your mouth hung opened as you feel your orgasm hitting you like a tidal wave of pleasure.

Your head leaned back as you moaned out his name, back arching at the intensity of the feeling as your bounces grew sloppier and sloppier.

He sighed as he pulled himself out of you before pumping his dick in front of you, trying to reach his own orgasm.

You didn’t know what came over you as you’re hand swiped across the foggy glass before pinning both of his arms behind his head,

leaving him to look at you speechless as one of your hands trailed down onto his cock and you positioned him on top of your entrance.

”Fuck y/n, what are you doing?” he asked as he looked at you bewildered, you bend down onto his ear as you whispered to him sensually.

“Want you to cum inside me.” he can only moan at your words as his chest breathed heavily. He smiled tiredly as he looked at you.

This was definitely better than any wet dream he’s ever had of you.

"Shit y/n are you sure?" he asked as he raised his eyebrows at you, his eyes widening, second guessing your actions.

"I don't want you to feel like I'm forcing you to do any-" his words were then cut off by your lips as you closed the distance between your lips and his in abandon.

"I want you to." you spoke as you pulled away, smiling softly at him making him sigh, a grin plastered on to his face.

“Go on then, don't let me stop you any longer.” he spoke softly as he moaned, eyes rolling back as he feels you sinking down onto him once more.

Your hand was still pinning his hands down as you started bouncing on his dick faster as he relished on the feeling of your pussy clenching on his dick.

“Oh fuck y/n I’m gonna cum.” he moaned out as his eyebrows furrowed. “Fuck wanna paint your fucking insides so fucking bad.”

You felt so fucking incredible around him. Clenching around him in all the right places with his dick buried into your hilt.

His eyebrows knitted at the sensation. Already so close to his edge.

The feeling of you alone could make him cum.

“Cum in me then, give it to me.” The way you were already pinning him down and the way you were riding him so good was enough to make him oh so close to reaching his high,

but your words sent him over the edge as his back arched and his thrusts met your bounces.

You moaned his name rather loudly as you felt his cum filing up your pussy.

A string of curses and moans followed as you both rode out his high.

The thrusts that were once harsh and rough, soon turned sloppy as you felt his cum painting your walls.

“Shit.” you cursed as you breathed heavily, finally spent.

You settled on his lap for a moment before slipping yourself out of him, his arms guiding you to lay on top of him comfortably.

Your heavy breathes mingled with each other as he snook a glance at your cunt. You sighed as he guided you to lean back, exposing your pussy to him.

“Fuck.” he cursed as he saw a bit of his cum oozing out of you.

Using his thumb he pushed back the cum back into you, a small sigh left your lips as he did so.

“Wouldn’t want that to go to waste.” he spoke as he smiled at you. You smiled back at him as the both of you started to chuckle at your disheveled states.

“You look handsome.” you spoke as you pushed some of the strands of hair on his forehead, before cupping his cheeks as he chuckled,

the blush on his face prominent as ever post-sex.

“You look beautiful y/n.” he smiled as he hugged your waist earning a giggle from you, before taking your lips in his as the kiss soon melted into passion.

[kirammanswifey]

《Beneath Her Wings》

Caitlyn

writer's note: attorney caitlyn it's so fucking hot. it was so cute writing this, i felt butterflies in my stomach and i still do, i want a caitlyn kiramman in my life too please i'm begging. anyways, this little (pretty long) scenarios comes from my arcane imagines, i'll let the link down there for anyone is interested, also i'll be posting a story for each one of those scenarios for this week, tomorrow it's silco's turn ;)

link:

warnings: smut, scissoring, breastfeeding kink, lap riding, mentions of physical assault, harassment, fluff and a lot of drama but it has a happy ending.

The sound of your heels against the marble floor echoed subtly in the spacious hallway. The white walls, adorned with minimalist paintings, felt cold, almost intimidating. In front of you, the frosted glass door bore the name "Caitlyn Kiramman, Attorney." Your hand trembled slightly as you turned the knob. This wasn’t the first time you sought professional help since the divorce, but something about this place felt different. Perhaps it was her prestigious reputation, or maybe the faint hope that this time, someone might truly help you.

Inside, a receptionist with a kind face greeted you with a cordial gesture. “Ma’am, Attorney Kiramman will see you shortly. Would you like some water or coffee while you wait?”

“Water, please,” you replied, though the lump in your throat made drinking seem impossible. You sat in a leather-upholstered chair, feeling small in the wide and sophisticated space.

It wasn’t long before the door opened, and Caitlyn Kiramman made her entrance. Her slender figure, wrapped in a perfectly tailored suit, exuded an imposing yet non-aggressive authority. Her dark hair, tied in an impeccable bun, contrasted with her piercing blue eyes. She walked towards you with confident strides and extended a hand.

"You must be my new client. It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Caitlyn," she said with a voice that was both professional and warm. Her British accent was quite captivating.

You stood up, shaking her hand with a mix of nervousness and caution. "Thank you for seeing me… I know your schedule must be very busy."

“There’s always time for someone who needs help,” she replied with a faint smile. “Please, come into my office.”

The office reflected her personality: modern, structured, and welcoming in just the right measure. Shelves full of neatly arranged law books lined the walls, and a painting of a mountain landscape adorned the main wall. Caitlyn gestured to a chair in front of her desk and waited for you to sit before taking her seat.

“Well,” she began, pulling out an elegant leather notebook and a fountain pen. “Before we begin, I want you to know that everything you share with me is absolutely confidential. My goal is to make sure you get the justice you deserve. But for that, I need you to be completely honest with me. Are you ready?”

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of her gaze on you. There was something in her eyes, a blend of professionalism and empathy, that made you want to trust her, even though your instincts screamed that trusting someone again was a risk.

“Yes… I’m ready,” you replied, though the truth was you weren’t sure you were.

Caitlyn nodded calmly. “Perfect. Then let’s start from the beginning. Why did you decide to get a divorce?”

The air suddenly seemed heavier. You looked at your hands, playing with your fingers in an attempt to keep your composure. The words were trapped in your throat, as if saying them would make everything real again.

"My ex-husband... he wasn’t who he seemed to be at first," you began, your voice barely a whisper. "When we got married, I thought I had found someone who loved me. But over time, he changed. It started with small things: constant criticism, unfounded jealousy. And then… it became physical."

Caitlyn’s face remained neutral, though her eyes reflected a spark of contained indignation. "Can you be more specific? This is important for the case."

You took a deep breath, trying to gather strength. "He hit me. When things didn’t go his way, he’d take out his anger on me. He told me I was nobody without him, that no one else would ever want me. And for a while… I believed him."

Your voice broke on the last word, but Caitlyn didn’t interrupt. She gave you space to continue, which was, in a way, comforting.

"After a long time, something inside me broke. I couldn’t take it anymore. I asked for a divorce, but he… he didn’t accept it. He’s still harassing me, calling me, showing up at places he knows I’ll be. It’s like I can’t escape him, even after leaving."

Caitlyn set her pen down on the desk, leaning forward slightly. Her expression was serious but not stern. "I’m so sorry you had to go through that. No one deserves to live like that, and I’m glad you found the courage to leave. Now, let’s make sure he has no power over you ever again."

Her words resonated with you, though part of you still doubted. You’d heard promises before—from friends, therapists, even other attorneys. But Caitlyn seemed different. There was a conviction in her tone that made you want to believe her, even though the fear lingered, ever-present.

“What can we do?” you finally asked, your voice still trembling.

“First, I’m going to request a restraining order to keep him from coming near you,” Caitlyn explained with a confidence that was almost reassuring. “I’ll also review the terms of your divorce to ensure you’re fully protected legally. This includes any financial or property agreements he might be using to manipulate you.”

You nodded slowly, feeling a faint spark of hope. “Thank you… I really appreciate it.”

Caitlyn smiled, this time with a touch of softness. “It’s my job, but it’s also the right thing to do. No one should live in fear. And if you ever need to talk about anything, don’t hesitate to call me. I’m here to help, not just as your attorney, but also as someone who cares about your well-being.”

Her words disarmed you. You weren’t used to someone caring about you without expecting something in return. Maybe, just maybe, Caitlyn Kiramman was different.

When you left her office that afternoon, you felt as if something inside you had shifted. Perhaps it wasn’t hope yet, but it was a small glimmer of possibility. Maybe this time, things could be different.

The sunlight streamed through the windows of your apartment, illuminating the unpacked boxes still occupying the corner of the living room. Days had passed since your first meeting with Caitlyn, and although she had promised to work on your case, the anxiety continued to linger like a shadow. Every time your phone vibrated, your body tensed. It was always the same: a message, a call, or an email from your ex-husband.

Today was no exception. The phone on the table started ringing. You instantly recognized the number, and a shiver ran down your spine. You hesitated for a moment but finally picked it up, as if facing him was inevitable.

“What do you want?” you asked, your voice dry.

On the other end of the line, your ex-husband's voice carried the same false sweetness you knew all too well. “I just wanted to know how you’re doing. I worry about you being alone in that big apartment. You don’t have to do this alone, sweetheart. We can fix things.”

Your jaw tightened. “I’m not your ‘sweetheart.’ I don’t want to hear from you again.”

There was an awkward silence before his tone shifted, becoming colder, more menacing. “Don’t be so ungrateful. You know no one else will take care of you the way I did. You’re acting like a child, but I promise you this isn’t over.”

You hung up before he could say anything else, dropping the phone on the table as if it burned. Tears welled up in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. You wouldn’t give him that power, not again.

Then your phone vibrated again, this time showing Caitlyn’s name on the screen. Quickly wiping your face, you answered.

“Hello,” you said, trying to keep your tone neutral.

“Hi, how are you?” Caitlyn’s voice was a balm after the poison you’d just heard. “I’m calling to let you know we’ve started the process for the restraining order. I need you to come by my office tomorrow to sign some documents. Does that work for you?”

“Yes, of course,” you replied, feeling a small wave of relief. “Thank you, Caitlyn.”

“There’s no need to thank me. It’s the least I can do,” she said. There was a brief pause before she continued, her tone more personal this time. “Are you okay? You sound... upset.”

You hesitated, but something in her tone made you feel like you could be honest. “He called. He keeps saying this isn’t over. It scares me to think he’ll never stop.”

The silence on the other end of the line was brief but filled with intention. “He will stop. Trust me, I’ll make sure he has no way of getting near you. But if you ever feel unsafe or if he contacts you again, call me immediately. No matter the time.”

“Thank you,” you repeated, this time with more sincerity.

“Get some rest tonight,” she said before hanging up. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

That night, you slept with your phone by your side, her contact saved in favorites, like a safety net you’d never had before.

When you arrived at Caitlyn’s office, she was already waiting for you in the reception area, looking just as impeccable as the first time. This time, she greeted you with a slightly more relaxed smile.

“Hi,” she said, extending a hand to you. “Ready to tackle this?”

“Ready,” you lied, though the truth was that the thought of facing your ex-husband made your stomach twist.

The meeting was brief but intense. Caitlyn explained every detail of the process, ensuring you understood everything you were about to sign. Her patience was admirable; no matter how many questions you asked, she always answered with calm and precision.

“With this, he won’t be able to come within 500 meters of you,” Caitlyn explained as you signed the final document. “And if he does, he’ll face immediate legal consequences.”

“Do you think that’ll stop him?” you asked, your voice unsure.

“We’ll stop him,” she replied firmly. “You’re not alone in this.”

There was a moment of silence when you realized how much those words meant to you. You weren’t used to someone else sharing your burden. Caitlyn, with her steady gaze and unwavering posture, seemed like the only person who truly understood what you needed: support, without judgment.

When the meeting ended, Caitlyn walked with you to the elevator. “Do you have plans for the rest of the day?” she asked.

You shook your head. “Not really. I guess I’ll head home and try to relax.”

“How about grabbing a coffee?” Her proposal caught you off guard. Caitlyn noticed your expression and smiled. “Nothing case-related, I promise. I just thought you could use a break.”

For a moment, you hesitated, but something in her smile made you nod. “Okay. I think I could use that.”

The coffee shop was small and cozy, far from the city’s bustle. Caitlyn ordered an espresso while you opted for something milder. The conversation, to your surprise, flowed naturally.

“So, you don’t believe in love?” Caitlyn asked at one point, her tone curious but non-intrusive.

“Not after what I’ve been through,” you admitted with a surprising level of honesty. “I feel like trusting someone is too dangerous. I’d rather not take the risk.”

Caitlyn nodded slowly. “That’s understandable. We all carry our wounds, but I don’t think you should close yourself off entirely. There are loves that don’t hurt, loves that heal.”

“I’m not sure those exist,” you murmured, staring into your cup as if the answer lay at the bottom.

“Let me ask you something,” Caitlyn said, leaning in slightly. “If you could imagine the perfect love, one that doesn’t hurt you, what would it be like?”

The question caught you off guard but allowed you to dream for a moment. “I guess it would be... someone who respects me, who doesn’t make me feel less. Someone who’s there because they want to be, not because they need me to feel better about themselves.”

“That doesn’t sound impossible,” Caitlyn replied with a soft smile. “Maybe you just need time to find it—or to let it find you.”

The warmth in her words made you feel seen in a way you hadn’t in a long time. Caitlyn wasn’t trying to fix you or judge you; she simply wanted to understand you.

After a while, the conversation turned lighter. Caitlyn talked about her hobbies, her walks in nature, and her passion for art. You discovered a shared love for museums, and at one point, you both laughed as you realized you had completely opposite opinions on a famous painting.

Before you knew it, hours had passed. When you finally left the café, you realized that, for the first time in a long time, you weren’t thinking about your ex-husband or your fears. Caitlyn had done something you thought impossible: given you a break from your own thoughts.

“Thank you for this,” you said as you parted ways.

“Anytime,” she replied, with a smile that seemed to promise she meant it.

As you walked home, you couldn’t help but feel that something had changed. For the first time, you began to wonder if the love Caitlyn described truly existed—and if you might deserve it.

The sense of calm Caitlyn had provided at the café lasted longer than you had expected, but it wasn’t eternal. The next day, the sound of a notification on your phone shattered the fragile tranquility you had begun to build. It was a message from him:

'You can’t hide forever. You know this game won’t last much longer. Just come back, and everything will be as it was before.'

Anger and fear mixed in your chest, forming a knot you could barely untangle. You carefully placed the phone on the table, as if any sudden movement could trigger an explosion. For a moment, you considered doing nothing, but then you thought of Caitlyn—her firm voice, her promise to help you.

Determined, you dialed her number.

“Hello,” she answered, her tone immediate and professional.

“He messaged me again,” you said quickly, as if saying the words more slowly might somehow make them more real.

“What did he say?” she asked, her voice tinged with genuine concern.

You read her the message, and when you finished, there was a brief silence on the other end before Caitlyn spoke. “This confirms he’s violating the preliminary terms. I need you to send me a screenshot of the message. This will help us strengthen the restraining order.”

“Of course,” you replied, but your voice trembled.

“Listen,” Caitlyn continued, her tone softer now. “I know this is hard, but you’re doing the right thing. Every step we take brings him closer to facing the consequences of his actions. You have my word—we won’t let him get away with this.”

“Thank you,” you murmured, tears welling up in your eyes but refusing to fall. Her voice was like an anchor, something to hold on to while fear threatened to pull you under.

Later that same day, you received another message from Caitlyn. This time, it was an invitation:

'How about a break? If you’re free this afternoon, I’d like to take you somewhere I think you’ll like. We could chat a bit, outside of the legal context.'

The simple fact that she thought of you that way, beyond her professional obligations, made you smile. You hesitated for a moment but then accepted.

The afternoon was warm and sunny when you arrived at the place Caitlyn had indicated: a sprawling field where a small group of horses grazed peacefully. Caitlyn was waiting by the fence, wearing a casual outfit that contrasted with the always-polished image you had of her.

“Horseback riding?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as you approached.

Caitlyn smiled, amused. “I thought you might enjoy something different. You don’t have to ride if you don’t want to, but you should at least try.”

The sparkle in her eyes made any resistance you might have felt vanish. “Alright,” you agreed, even though you had no idea how you were going to manage it.

Caitlyn introduced you to a light brown horse named Storm, assuring you he was calm and obedient. “He’s perfect for beginners,” she said, gently stroking his mane.

With patience and a contagious calmness, Caitlyn taught you how to mount. Her voice was firm yet encouraging, guiding you step by step. At first, you felt clumsy and out of place, but little by little, you began to enjoy the experience.

“This isn’t so bad,” you admitted after a few minutes, surprised at yourself.

“Told you,” Caitlyn replied with a smile.

The afternoon passed in a flash. Caitlyn led you along a trail winding through the trees, and for a moment, you felt free. No past, no fears, just the present. Caitlyn rode beside you, sharing stories from her childhood and laughing with you when you made mistakes.

Then it happened. A low-hanging branch caught you by surprise, and in your attempt to dodge it, you lost your balance. Although the fall wasn’t severe, you hit the ground with a dull thud.

“Are you okay?!” Caitlyn dismounted quickly and ran to you, her face full of worry.

“I’m fine,” you replied, laughing nervously as you brushed off the dirt. “Just hurt my pride.”

“Don’t do that to me again,” Caitlyn said, kneeling beside you. Though her tone was firm, her eyes were full of relief.

Before you could respond, she raised a hand and removed a small twig tangled in your hair. The gesture was so tender and natural it left you speechless.

“Are you really okay?” she asked again, her eyes searching yours.

“Yes,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

The silence that followed was different, charged with a tension you hadn’t felt before. Caitlyn was so close you could see every detail of her face, from the gentle curve of her lips to the light in her eyes. She was beyond gorgeousness.

And then it happened. Caitlyn leaned toward you slowly, giving you time to stop her if you wanted. But you didn’t. When her lips finally touched yours, it felt like the world stopped. Her kiss was soft, careful, as if she feared breaking something fragile.

When she pulled away, she looked at you with a mix of curiosity and nervousness. “Are you okay with this?”

You didn’t trust your voice, so you simply nodded.

For the first time in a long time, you weren’t thinking about your past or your fears. In that moment, there was only Caitlyn and you. And that was enough.

Caitlyn helped you up after the kiss, holding your hand as you stood. Her cheeks were slightly flushed, but she didn’t comment on it. You didn’t know what to say either; words seemed caught in your throat. You simply walked beside her in silence toward the horses, still trying to process what had happened.

“I think it’s best we call it a day for riding lessons,” Caitlyn finally said with a soft smile as she stroked Storm’s mane.

“Yeah... probably for the best,” you replied, your voice barely audible.

You got into Caitlyn’s car, and the ride back was quiet. Though the conversation was light and comfortable, you couldn’t ignore the change that had occurred between you. The kiss lingered in every pause, in every glance she shot your way, and in the slight nervousness you felt whenever her fingers brushed yours on the gear shift.

When you finally arrived at your apartment, the atmosphere was heavy with unspoken words. Caitlyn walked you to your door as she usually did, but this time, both of you knew something was different.

“Thank you for today,” you said, finally breaking the silence. “It was... unexpected, but I’m glad I went.”

“Me too,” Caitlyn replied, her eyes meeting yours. “I’m glad you gave yourself the chance to try. And... that you let me be there.”

The air between you grew heavier. You didn’t want her to leave, but the idea of inviting her in was terrifying. You’d been avoiding confronting your feelings, your desires, but now they were right in front of you.

Finally, Caitlyn spoke, her tone gentle and cautious. “I don’t want to pressure you, but... would you like me to stay a little longer? Only if you’re comfortable with it.”

You were so happy, it was like she could read your mind, no one had never understood you as well as Caitlyn did.

You nodded slowly, your heart pounding. “Yes. I’d like that.”

Inside your apartment, you tried to keep yourself busy making tea, but your hands trembled slightly as you set out the cups. Caitlyn stood near the table, watching you with a mix of patience and something else you couldn’t quite identify.

“Are you okay?” she asked, stepping closer.

“Yes... just nervous,” you admitted, not turning to face her.

“You don’t have to be,” she replied, her voice low and reassuring. “I won’t do anything you don’t want. I’m just here because I want to be with you, not because I want something from you.”

You took a deep breath and finally turned to face her. “It’s just that... I’ve never been with a woman before. I don’t know what to expect, and... I think I’m scared of doing it wrong.”

Caitlyn smiled, stepping closer until she was close enough to take your hands. “This isn’t a test or something you can fail. It’s just... us. No one else, no expectations, just what you want.”

The sincerity in her voice and the softness of her touch made something inside you relax. For the first time in a long time, you felt like you could let your guard down, at least a little.

“I trust you,” you whispered, surprised by your own words.

Caitlyn leaned in and kissed you again, with a tenderness that melted away all your nerves. There was something about the way she touched you, the way she looked at you, that made everything else seem irrelevant. There was no rush, just patience and care, as if she had all the time in the world for you.

As the kiss deepened, she slowly guided you to your room, always attuned to your reactions, ensuring you were comfortable. Your breathing was uneven, but not out of fear this time. It was different—something warmer, more intimate.

“If at any point you want me to stop, just say so,” Caitlyn murmured against your lips, her tone filled with so much understanding it nearly made you cry.

“It’s okay,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Caitlyn smiled and sat you down on the bed, she knelt down in front of you and carefully removed your shoes, placing them on the side of the bed, perfectly aligned. There was something about the way she touched you, it was so motherly, so loving.

“What do I do?” You asked, your nerves on edge, sounding like a complete novice, in fact you felt like you were a virgin again.

But Caitlyn didn’t judge you, she moved closer to you, her perfect posture slightly bent.

“Why don’t we start by taking off our clothes? We’ll be more comfortable that way,” She caressed your cheek before adding, “I would take them off myself, but I want to push you to get out of your comfort zone on your own. I know you can do it.”

You rubbed your face against her hand, grateful. The way she always believed in you, with her encouraging words, gave you enough confidence to do it. This was the first time you had ever stripped so quickly in your life, your pants and sweater flew across the room, as did your underwear. And you were anxious, eager, it was a new experience that even though it terrified you, you really wanted to enjoy.

Your cheeks burned when you saw a naked Caitlyn in front of you. She was standing upright with that confident smile, and how could she not be confident in herself if she looked absolutely breathtaking? Her build was slim, but not flabby, you could tell she took great care of herself, perhaps with a strict diet and exercise routine. Her waist was so small and her hips big, Caitlyn was the physical definition of what an hourglass was.

However, that wasn't what caught your attention the most. You couldn't take your eyes off her breasts, they were much bigger than yours, pale and firm. They probably wouldn't fit in your hands completely, they would overflow through your fingers. Your tongue licked your lips as you imagined such a scene.

"Do you want to touch them?" Caitlyn once again read your mind.

At another time you would have been extremely embarrassed, but this wasn't the case, your mind was clouded with fictional scenarios that you wanted to make come true at all costs, so you nodded without thinking.

A small smirk played at the corners of her lips as she reached out, taking your hand in hers. Guiding it slowly, she placed your palm directly over one of her soft, supple mounds.

"Go on then," she purred, her voice low and inviting. "Touch them. Feel how soft and warm they are..."

As your fingers began to explore her delicate flesh, Caitlyn let out a soft sigh, arching slightly into your touch. Your hands kneaded and caressed, marveling at the way her nipples stiffened beneath your palms.

"Mmm, your touch feels so good..." she breathed, desire evident in her half-lidded blue eyes.

She took your other hand, placing it on her hip before slowly trailing it up the curve of her waist, over her ribs, until it too cupped the weight of her other breast. Caitlyn shivered at the sensation, her heart racing as she gazed into your eyes with open want.

She leaned in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that left no doubt as to her intentions. Her tongue dominated yours, stoking the flames of your desire as her naked body pressed against yours, soft curves melding with harder planes.

"Can I put them in my mouth?" You asked like a hungry baby.

Caitlyn's breath hitched as she felt your eager words whispered against her lips. A thrill ran through her at the desperation in your voice, the clear desire to taste her. She pulled back just enough to look you in the eye, her own gaze smoldering with want.

"You can do whatever you want, though I love that you ask permission first. Go on then." Caitlyn whispered to you, tucking your hair behind your ears.

She guided your head down, cradling the back of your neck as she brought your lips to the swell of her breast. The scent of her perfume mixed with the natural aroma of her skin filled your nostrils, making your mouth water with anticipation.

"Don't hold back, love," Caitlyn encouraged, her British accent husky with desire.

And you didn't waste any more time, you buried your face against her breasts as if your life depended on it. You sniffed like a bloodhound tracking the tracks of a wild animal in the forest. It was like hugging the best pillow on the market. It was a soft paradise.

She gasped as your lips closed around the hardened peak, your tongue flicking out to tease the sensitive flesh. Her fingers tangled in your hair, holding you close as jolts of pleasure raced through her body.

"That's it," she panted, arching into you. "Just like that... Ah! Your mouth feels incredible... Are you sure that's your first time with a woman?"

You blushed and suddenly found yourself thirsty for praise, needing her approval.

“Am I doing this right?” You murmured with her right nipple still in your mouth.

Caitlyn closed her eyes and frowned, as if trying to control herself, you were pushing all the right buttons in her.

Caitlyn let out a sharp gasp followed by a low, appreciative moan as you suckled harder at her breast, your enthusiasm evident in every movement of your mouth. Her fingers tightened their grip in your hair, nails scraping lightly against your scalp.

"Oh, yes, you're doing it so very right," she praised breathlessly, her voice dripping with desire. "Your mouth feels divine on my skin. Don't stop, darling... Keep worshipping my breasts just like that."

She guided your head from one breast to the other, making sure you gave each the same devoted attention. With each suckle and lick, Caitlyn felt the heat between her thighs grow, her arousal building with every passing second.

"That's it, sweetheart... Use your tongue more, trace the curves of my breasts. Ah! Yes, just like that..." she encouraged, her head falling back as she arched into your touch. "You're stoking the flames of my desire with every brush of your lips against my skin."

Caitlyn's heart raced, her chest heaving with each ragged breath she took. She had never felt so wanted, so desired, and it was all thanks to your eager, inexperienced touch. It was intoxicating, and she knew she wouldn't be able to hold back for long if you kept touching her like this.

"Mmm... You're a natural at this," she purred, her words dripping with approval. "Keep pleasuring me just like that, and I'll make sure to reward you properly..."

With that promise hanging in the air between you, Caitlyn guided your mouth back to her breast, desperate to feel your lips and tongue on her sensitive flesh once more. She needed you to keep touching her, to keep stoking the inferno raging inside her... until it consumed them both.

Caitlyn gazed at you with a mix of lust and adoration, taking in the sight of your messy hair, saliva-slick lips, and those adorable, desire-glazed eyes. She felt her heart clench in her chest, overwhelmed by the sheer, unbridled want she saw reflected back at her. Unable to resist, Caitlyn leaned in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that left no doubt as to her hunger for you.

As she broke the kiss, Caitlyn's hands slid down to your waist, gripping you firmly. With a surge of strength, she flipped your positions, easily maneuvering you both until she was lying on her back on the bed, your smaller frame now draped over hers. She could feel heat the of your skin against every inch of her body, stoking the flames of her arousal to new heights.

Her breath caught in her throat as she felt your core grind against her thigh, your slick arousal coating her skin. The sensation sent a bolt of desire straight to her own aching center, making her hips buck up involuntarily to meet yours. She could hear the needy moan that tore from your throat, the sound echoing in the charged air between you.

"Mmm," Caitlyn purred, her voice a low, seductive rasp. "Does my girl want to ride my thigh? Is that what you need, love?"

You felted so ashamed, but that didn't stopped you from nodding.

She reached down, gripping your hips and guiding you to grind against her thigh more deliberately. Her own hips rolled in tandem with yours, providing a steady, delicious friction that promised to drive you both wild with lust.

"That's it," she encouraged, her blue eyes dark and heavy-lidded as she watched your face contort with pleasure. "Use my thigh, sweetheart."

Caitlyn's own body thrummed with need, her core clenching and fluttering around nothing. She desperately wanted to fill you, to claim you, to make you hers in every way imaginable. But for now, she would settle for watching you take your pleasure from her, knowing that your satisfaction would only heighten her own.

You let your own body move, grinding your pussy over Caitlyn's thigh. Your whole face was bright red, you were so embarrassed that you liked something so dirty, you couldn't believe you had these kinds of... fetishes. Caitlyn was making you discover new things about yourself.

Caitlyn watched in awe as you began to move your hips more urgently, grinding your dripping pussy against her thigh with increasing need. She could feel the heat of your arousal, the slickness of your desire coating her skin, and it only fueled her own rapidly growing hunger. Your face was flushed a pretty pink, your eyes wide and uncertain, and Caitlyn found it utterly charming to see you so shamelessly chasing your pleasure.

"Oh, sweetheart," she breathed, her voice heavy with lust and a touch of amusement. "You don't need to be ashamed. Feeling good, taking what you need... it's not naughty or wrong. It's natural, and I think it's absolutely delicious seeing you lost in the throes of passion. Actually, I think now that you're even a better rider than me."

Her statement made you shiver with excitement. You weren't used to seeing this shameless side of Caitlyn and you loved it.

Caitlyn's hands slid around to cup the rounded globes of your ass, squeezing and kneading the firm flesh as she encouraged your movements. She guided your hips, rocking them against her thigh in a steady, sensual rhythm that had your breath coming faster and your moans growing louder with each passing second.

"That's it, darling... Let yourself feel good," she purred, leaning up to press hot, open-mouthed kisses along the column of your throat. "I want to watch you come undone, sweetheart. I want to feel your tight little pussy flutter and clench as you find your release..."

God, it was too much for you. Seeing the renowned and dignified attorney Caitlyn Kiramman swearing like that, telling you these dirty things. It was just too much.

Caitlyn's own body was burning up, her core aching with a deep, throbbing need. She could feel her juices flowing freely, coating her thighs as her desire grew more urgent. The sight of you lost in pleasure, the sounds of your increasingly desperate moans and cries, it was all pushing Caitlyn closer and closer to the edge of her own climax.

"Come for me," she demanded breathlessly, her voice thick with longing. "I want to feel your pleasure, sweetheart. Give yourself to me, and I promise I'll give you everything you've ever wanted and more..."

You wanted to give it to her, you wanted to keep going, but your lower body hurt, you weren't used to physical exercise. Besides, you couldn't remember the last time you had sex, it was normal that you were so rusty.

"I'm tired, Cait," you confessed breathlessly, it was the first time you had called her that way, it had escaped so naturally from your lips that it made both of you smile.

With a sudden, swift motion, she flipped your positions once again, this time pinning you beneath her on the bed. She settled her hips between your spread thighs, her dripping core pressing hot and hard against your own. Caitlyn's breath caught in her throat as she felt the slick slide of your sexes meeting, the sensation sending a jolt of electricity through her body.

Caitlyn began to move, rolling her hips in a sensual grind against yours. She could feel her slick arousal mingling with your own, the combination of your juices creating a delicious, intoxicating friction that made her toes curl in bliss. She set a steady, sensual rhythm, her hips undulating sinuously as she scissored her aching sex against yours.

"That's it, love," she panted, her blue eyes dark and heavy-lidded as she gazed down at you. "Feel how wet I am, how much I want you... I'm going to make us both come, sweetheart. Hard and fast, until we're both drowning in ecstasy."

She was so romantic and naughty at the same time. She was just perfect.

Caitlyn leaned down, capturing your lips in a searing, dominating kiss. She plundered your mouth with her tongue, swallowing the sweet sounds of your pleasure as she ground her hips more insistently against yours. She could feel her climax building, the coil of tension in her core winding tighter and tighter with each passing second.

"Come with me, sweetheart," she demanded breathlessly against your lips. "Let go, and I promise I'll catch you on the other side. I want to feel you shaking apart in my arms as we come together..."

With a final, sharp thrust of her hips, Caitlyn pushed you both over the edge, crying out in rapture as her orgasm crashed.

Caitlyn's body shuddered and convulsed against yours as her climax slammed into her with the force of a freight train. A guttural, wanton moan tore from her throat, the sound echoing off the walls of the bedroom as wave after wave of pure, unadulterated pleasure consumed her. Her hips jerked and spasmed, grinding her spasming sex against yours in a desperate, almost frantic need to prolong the mind-blowing sensations coursing through her veins.

"Oh, fuck!" she cried out, her voice ragged and raw with ecstasy. "Yes, yes, fuck! Don't stop, please, sweetheart!"

It was so funny how Caitlyn cursed but never forgot her manners.

Your nails raked down her back, leaving red lines of passion in their wake as you clung to her like a woman possessed. She could feel your own body trembling beneath hers, your pussy clenching and fluttering wildly against her own as you teetered on the brink of your own shattering release. The knowledge that she had brought you to this point, that your shared pleasure was about to crest and break over you both like a tidal wave, only heightened Caitlyn's own rapidly building peak.

"That's it, my sweet girl," she panted harshly, her breath coming in sharp, desperate gasps. "Let go, baby. Let it happen. I've got you

With a final, brutal thrust of her hips, Caitlyn drove you both over the precipice, screaming in rapture as your combined orgasms exploded through you like a supernova. Her pussy clamped down around yours, pulsing and throbbing as she gushed her release, coating your thighs and your belly with her slick essence. Caitlyn's entire body quaked and shuddered, lost in the throes of the most intense, mind-melting climax of her life as she rode out the aftershocks of her pleasure, pinning you beneath her.

You both stayed there on the bed, fighting for air.

“How did it feel?” Caitlyn asked you, very interested in your answer.

“Amazing,” You admitted with a smirk. “I don’t know how I haven’t tried this before. Lesbian sex is amazing.” You teased a little.

Caitlyn chuckled softly, a satisfied smirk playing at the corners of her kiss-swollen lips as she gazed down at you with a look of pure, unadulterated adoration. She could still feel the aftershocks of her intense orgasm coursing through her body, making her skin tingle and her heart race. The sight of you lying boneless and sated beneath her, your face flushed and your eyes glazed with post-coital bliss, only served to heighten Caitlyn's own sense of deep, visceral satisfaction.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it, sweetheart," she purred, her voice a low, sensual rasp.

Caitlyn rolled off of you gently, but kept you tucked close to her side. She draped one arm possessively around your waist, holding you near as she traced idle patterns on your sweat-slicked skin. The feeling of your naked body pressed against hers, the way your curves and valleys seemed to fit so perfectly against her own, made Caitlyn's heart swell with a fierce, protective affection.

And with that, the moment changed. It was as if everything you had been afraid of vanished, replaced by a feeling of connection and desire you hadn’t experienced before. Caitlyn was everything you had needed, everything you had never believed possible.

That’s when you realized: for the first time, you weren’t running from your past but embracing the possibility of a future.

You woke up early the next morning, sunlight streaming through the curtains of your bedroom. The feeling from the previous night still lingered in your body—a mixture of disbelief and a warmth you hadn’t felt in a long time. You turned your head, and there she was, Caitlyn, still asleep, her dark hair framing her peaceful face.

There was something profoundly calming about seeing her like this, stripped of her usual elegant and composed demeanor. For a moment, everything felt simple. But then, your thoughts began to swirl in your mind.

"What does this mean? What does she expect from me? Can I handle this when I don’t even trust myself yet?"

You carefully slipped out of bed so as not to wake her and headed to the kitchen. You needed coffee. Leaning against the counter, you stared into the void, trying to organize your emotions.

"I didn’t expect to find you up so early," Caitlyn’s calm voice spoke behind you.

You turned quickly, startled. She was there, wrapped in one of the sheets, a soft smile on her lips. She seemed completely relaxed, as if last night hadn’t been an emotional earthquake.

"Sorry if I woke you," you said nervously, avoiding her gaze.

"It wasn’t that," she replied, approaching. "I was just worried when you weren’t in bed."

The concern in her tone caused a knot to form in your throat. "I just… needed a moment to think."

Caitlyn didn’t push you; she simply approached and took your hands. "If you need space, I understand. But I want you to know I’m here. And I don’t expect anything from you that you’re not ready to give."

Her honesty was disarming. You had never met someone who respected your boundaries so much, who made you feel seen and heard.

"It’s complicated," you finally said. "This is new to me, and I’m still… dealing with everything that happened with him."

Caitlyn nodded, her eyes full of understanding. "You don’t have to explain everything now. You don’t have to have it all figured out. I just want you to know you’re not alone."

You took a deep breath and nodded. Her words, though simple, struck deep. Maybe you didn’t need to have all the answers. Maybe you just needed to allow yourself to feel, step by step.

The rest of the day passed in a strange but welcome calm. Caitlyn offered to make breakfast, and you watched her as she skillfully moved through the ingredients, enjoying the simplicity of the moment.

"You should know my culinary skills are pretty limited," she joked as she placed some toast and eggs on a plate.

"If you do worse than me, that would be an achievement," you replied, relaxing enough to smile.

The shared laughter eased some of the tension you still felt, and for a moment, it was easy to imagine this could be normal.

"So, what’s the plan for today?" Caitlyn asked as she cleared the dishes after breakfast.

"I guess I should work on some pending paperwork," you said, though you knew your concentration would be nonexistent.

"What if we take the day off?" she suggested, leaning against the doorframe. "We could do something relaxing, something that makes you feel good."

"Like what?" you asked, raising an eyebrow skeptically.

"We could take a walk around the city or visit an art gallery. There’s a photography exhibit I’ve been wanting to see. Or we could just stay here and watch a movie."

The ease with which Caitlyn suggested plans, without any pressure, made you feel more comfortable. "The gallery sounds nice," you finally responded.

The gallery was everything Caitlyn had promised and more. The space was wide and bright, with white walls that highlighted the vibrant framed images. Each photograph seemed to hold its own universe, from natural landscapes to portraits that captured human emotions with disarming intensity.

Caitlyn walked beside you, occasionally stopping to read the descriptions or admire the details of a piece. You were surprised by the depth of her comments. "Look at how the use of light here gives a sense of hope, despite the somber setting," she pointed out in an image of a desolate alley illuminated by a rising sun.

"Are you always this observant?" you asked, trying to hide your admiration for her intelligence.

"I guess it’s part of my job," she replied with a smile. "You learn to read between the lines, whether it’s in a case or a piece of art."

There was one particular moment that struck you. You stopped in front of a black-and-white photograph of a woman in the rain, holding a broken umbrella. There was something in her posture, in the lost look that didn’t face the camera, that deeply resonated with you.

"What do you think of this one?" Caitlyn asked beside you, curious about your reaction.

"It reminds me of myself," you replied after a moment, with a honesty that surprised you.

Caitlyn turned to you, her eyes full of interest. "Why?"

"Because she looks lost but is still standing. Even though everything around her is falling apart, she’s still there."

The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable. Caitlyn simply nodded, as if she understood exactly what you meant, even without further explanation. "That strength you see in her is also in you," she said softly.

She took your hand, and for the first time, you didn’t feel tempted to pull away.

Back at the apartment, the atmosphere was different. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but there was a palpable emotional weight that seemed to fill every corner of the room. Caitlyn sat on the couch, her eyes following you as you moved nervously, unsure of what to do with your hands.

"Do you want to talk about what you’re feeling?" she finally asked, breaking the silence.

You stopped, your heart pounding. "I’m not sure what I feel. All of this… you… it’s so different from what I’m used to."

She nodded slowly, remaining calm. "I know this is new for you. But you don’t have to have all the answers now. I just want you to trust me. To trust that I’m not going to hurt you."

Her words were like a balm for your wounded soul. You sat beside her, your trembling hands finding hers. "It’s hard to trust. After everything I went through… I feel like if I let go, I’ll end up broken again."

Caitlyn didn’t look away. "I can’t promise everything will be perfect. But I can promise I’ll do everything I can to take care of you. To not be another wound in your life."

You stayed silent for a moment, processing her words. Then, in an act of bravery you didn’t know you had, you leaned closer and rested your head on her shoulder. "Thank you for staying," you whispered.

"I always will," she replied, wrapping you in an embrace that was not only warm but filled with the promise of a love unlike any you had known before.

The night falls with an unsettling stillness in the air. The apartment is completely silent, interrupted only by the soft sound of waves crashing against the shore, but there is no peace in your mind. The phone on the table flashes, and with a sigh, you take it in your hands. It’s a text message, something that twists your stomach every time it appears. The name on the screen burns your eyes.

The message is brief, but its words are like poison infiltrating your thoughts: "I know where you live. You know you’ll always belong to me, right?"

You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself, but anxiety begins to boil inside you. Fear, panic—you thought you had buried these feelings weeks ago, but now they resurface stronger than ever. He always had a way of manipulating you, making you feel like there was no way out, like he was the only constant in your life, the only source of "safety." And even though you left him behind, every message, every word, is a reminder of his control. A control that now seems to be taking hold of you again.

You can’t let that happen—not this time.

Suddenly, Caitlyn appears in the kitchen doorway, concern etched on her face. Her eyes immediately catch the phone in your hand, the tension in the air between you both palpable. You don’t need to say anything for her to understand. Caitlyn’s face hardens, and without hesitation, she walks toward you.

“Is it him again?” she asks, her voice low but firm.

You nod, putting the phone away, though the desperation still courses through your veins. Caitlyn steps closer and takes your hands in hers, looking at you with a protective intensity that makes you feel a little safer. “You’re not facing this alone,” she says, her words full of conviction. And even though you know she means it, you can’t help but feel a shadow of doubt. After all, it’s not clear what anyone could do to stop him once and for all.

“I know, but…” you hesitate, your voice trembling with fear and frustration. “I don’t want you to put yourself in danger. You don’t have to get involved in this.”

Caitlyn looks at you with a soft but determined smile. “I’ve told you before. I don’t want you to face anything alone. And this isn’t just your problem, you understand? This is mine too, because I love you.”

Those words, those three simple words, hit your chest like a lightning bolt, and for a moment, everything else disappears. The fear, the despair, the harassment… all of it fades in the warm light of her gaze. Is it possible that you’ve found something greater than fear? Something stronger than your past?

Your mind races, but your heart stops for an instant, as if time itself has frozen. Caitlyn loves you. And you… you felted something too, more than you dare admit. But fear, that dark shadow you’ve always carried, prevents you from fully trusting.

“What are we going to do?” you finally ask, though you know the answer lies beyond your fears.

Caitlyn looks into your eyes, her expression serious but her tone firm and protective. “I’m going to take more aggressive legal action. We’re not going to wait anymore. We’ll make sure he stops.”

The knot in your stomach loosens slightly. The confidence in her voice, the promise in her eyes—these are all you need right now. You accept her support, though part of you still wonders whether this is the end of the road or just the beginning of more suffering.

“What if… it’s not enough?” you whisper, almost as if speaking it aloud would make it real.

Caitlyn crouches to your level, gently taking your face in her hands. “If it were just my fear, I’d face it alone. But it’s not, and if you ever feel this way, you tell me, alright? I’m your partner. You don’t have to carry this alone.”

Her tender gesture surprises you, but it also inspires you. Despite everything you’ve been through, the fact that she’s willing to fight alongside you gives you a glimmer of hope you’d long forgotten.

Caitlyn pulls back slightly but not before placing a kiss on your forehead—a silent promise that everything will be okay, or at least that you’ll try together.

The next morning, Caitlyn becomes an unstoppable force. She calls a few trusted colleagues, begins drafting legal documents, and files a formal complaint. She doesn’t do it out of revenge but for you, to protect you. And while you know the legal battle could last weeks, months, you feel a small spark of relief.

Meanwhile, your feelings for Caitlyn begin to solidify. Her constant support, her determination, her bravery… all of it makes you question what you thought you knew about love. Over the days, your conversations grow deeper. The fear of rejection, of vulnerability, still lingers, but so does the certainty that this woman won’t let you fall.

And amidst all of it, your ex-husband’s harassment, though it hasn’t completely stopped, seems to lessen. But there’s still something inside you that you can’t let go of—a sense of insecurity that remains, hidden in the shadows of your heart.

But Caitlyn is by your side. And that’s a truth you’re willing to believe.

The trial has been long, exhausting, and at times, almost unbearable. The days have stretched on, evidence has been presented, emotions have run high, but today, finally, it feels like it’s all about to end. The courtroom is filled with a palpable tension. Nerves are so thick they could be cut with a knife as you await the verdict.

Caitlyn stands by your side, her constant and comforting presence. She’s been with you through every moment, facing every challenge and obstacle alongside you. You feel her hand touch yours, a small gesture, but one full of meaning. The warmth of her touch is the only thing grounding you amidst the emotional storm surrounding you.

The judge finally enters, his voice resonating in the silent room. "We have heard all the evidence, analyzed the testimonies, and after deliberating, this court has reached its verdict."

Your heart beats faster, each word from the judge making time seem to stretch even further. He looks at your ex-husband, with a disapproving expression, and then turns to you, as if everything you’ve endured up until now is finally coming to a resolution.

"The verdict is in favor of the plaintiff. Custody of assets, protection orders, and the no-contact ruling will remain in effect. The defendant, Mr. King..." The judge pauses, as if his words carry the weight of an entire destiny. "...is hereby issued an arrest warrant for his violent behavior during this process."

A sigh of relief escapes your lips. Caitlyn squeezes your hand tightly, sharing this moment of triumph with you. You’ve won. The fear, the uncertainty, the pain—all of it has finally come to an end. But before you can fully savor the feeling, something shifts.

Suddenly, he stands up, his face red with rage. "This isn’t over!" he shouts, his voice filled with fury. "You’ve ruined me! You’ve taken everything from me! I’ll make you pay!"

Fear courses through your veins, panic overtakes you, but before you can react, he lunges at you, his hands wrapping around your neck with brutal force. You can’t breathe; the air is knocked from your lungs, and the pressure on your throat makes you see stars.

In that instant, Caitlyn intervenes. You see her move swiftly, shoving him with all her strength. But the force of her push causes him to lose control, and in the process, he unintentionally pushes her so hard that she falls to the floor, her head striking the edge of a nearby table.

Everything stops.

The chaos of the courtroom fades, and all you can hear is the sound of your own racing heartbeat. Caitlyn lies on the floor, motionless. The wound on her forehead is evident, blood beginning to pool on the ground, and a wave of terror and despair washes over you completely.

"Caitlyn!" you scream, rushing to her, your body trembling as you try to cradle her face. Your hands shake as you touch her skin, now slick with blood, and the sight of her still form on the floor makes you feel as if the entire world is collapsing around you. "No! Please, wake up!"

People shout around you, some rushing to call for an ambulance, but all you can think about is her. Caitlyn. The woman who has stood by you, who has fought for you, who has done everything to help you. And now she’s here, on the floor, unmoving.

Your breath catches, but you manage to stay calm enough to check for her pulse. Seconds feel like an eternity, but finally, you feel it. She’s breathing. Relief. But it’s only fleeting. Fear still grips you, the pain of seeing her injured consumes you.

The ambulance arrives quickly, and within minutes, they’re taking her to the hospital. The paramedics assure you that the worst is over, that her injury isn’t severe, but you can’t shake the knot in your stomach. Everything you feared has happened. Now, the future feels more uncertain than ever. Guilt mixes with the fear of losing her, and for a moment, you doubt everything you’ve known so far.

You sit in the hospital hallway, trembling, your body unable to stop its small shudders of anxiety. The hours seem to stretch on, but you can’t move. You can’t breathe easily until you know she’s okay.

Finally, a nurse appears. "Ms. Caitlyn is awake. You can go see her."

Your heart pounds as you rush to the room. When you enter, you see her there, lying on the bed, her face pale but with that familiar smile on her lips. She’s not as bad as you feared, but the sight of her injured still stings deeply.

"How are you?" you ask, your voice trembling, fear still running through your veins.

Caitlyn looks at you, her eyes shining with a tenderness that melts you. "I’m fine," she says softly, though her tone is full of exhaustion. "Just a little dizzy, but what matters is that you’re safe. That’s what’s important, right?"

You sit beside her, gripping her hand tightly. Your fingers tremble as you seek her touch. "I saw you fall," you whisper, your voice breaking. "I saw you fall, and it felt like the world was ending. I didn’t want to lose you, Cait. I don’t want to lose you."

Caitlyn squeezes your hand, her face filled with that calm that always reassures you. "You don’t have to lose me," she says, her voice steady. "I’m not going anywhere. I’m here to stay."

A few minutes of silence pass, broken only by the soft sound of Caitlyn’s breathing and the rhythm of your heart. The fear of losing her, that overwhelming feeling that you couldn’t live without her, is something new to you. But in that moment, you realize something. Something you’ve been avoiding, afraid to feel it: you’ve fallen in love. Not just with Caitlyn, but with what she represents to you, with how she makes you feel when she’s with you. You’re no longer afraid of what’s to come, because now, the only thing you know is that life, though uncertain, is far more bearable with her by your side.

A few hours later, your ex-husband is arrested for attempted murder. He’s taken into custody, and although the legal process will continue, the fact that he can’t come near you ever again is a relief. You feel a peace you’ve never known before.

Night falls, and you and Caitlyn return home in silence. At your side, she smiles, and though you don’t say a word, you know everything has changed. The fear is gone. The pain has given way to new hope.

Before entering the apartment, you stop and look into her eyes. "I love you," you whisper, finally allowing yourself to accept what you’ve been avoiding for so long.

Caitlyn looks at you, with that gaze that makes you feel safer than ever. "And I love you," she replies softly, before taking your face in her hands and leaning in to kiss your lips tenderly.

At last, you feel like the future is yours to write, together, without fear or shadows.

[rosyblooom]

blooming season 🌷 (2) | ln4

"grief is just love with no place to go”

PAIRING: lando norris x fem nepo!reader WORD COUNT: 2.5k WARNING(S): mentions of death & blood, swearing SUMMARY: four years after she fled monaco, y/n is back on the anniversary of her father's death. however, an unexpected encounter with an f1 driver disrupts her plans.

part 1 | part 2 <- | part 3

You're not sure how much time has passed since you entered the car, but it doesn't matter. It feels like an eternity. Everything feels overwhelming today—you're the mouse in a world full of elephants, and you don't know how to cope. You want to scream, but your voice feels strained; you want to cry, but there are no tears left. All you can do is sit idly in what feels like a tiny lifeboat in an ocean rippled by giant waves crashing straight at you.

"Feeling any better now?" Lando's voice interrupts the silence, pulling you out of your daze.

You snap your head sideways to face the brunette boy, your brows furrowing as you simply stare at him.

"Hey," he sneaks a quick glance at you before focusing back on the road. "You've been quiet the whole ride. Are you feeling any better now?"

Narrowing your eyes, you fix him with a wary glare before rolling your eyes and bringing your feet to the edge of your seat, hugging your knees tightly. "What's it to you?" you finally respond, gazing through the window.

"Look, I'm trying to make things less… tense here. You could, you know, meet me halfway or something."

"How about you stop trying," you snap, glaring at the side of his face. "Just be quiet. Let's get your hand wrapped up, and then you can just leave."

Lando swallows, his eyes darting between you and the street ahead. "I don't think—"

You cut him off sharply, "Obviously, you just missed the freaking turn."

"What? No, I didn't, look," he points at the GPS that's currently rerouting. "Oh."

"Yeah…"

"No need to worry, it's already figuring out a new way. See?"

"Another inconvenience?" you ask, annoyance laced in each word. "Yeah, actually I do."

Lando purses his lips and drums his fingers against the steering wheel. "I'm guessing I'm the first inconvenience?"

"Wow, you can connect dots," you deadpan, sinking into your seat and resting your forehead against the vibrating window.

*********

The elevator door dings open, and you release a relieved breath upon finding its carriage empty. Lando enters first, settling into one side, while you press your back into the opposite wall.

"Let me guess," Lando begins, trailing his fingers up and down the row of twenty buttons, "your floor is the—"

"Sixth," you interject, your patience wearing thin as you take a step towards him and push the number six, causing it to light up.

Lando sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, nodding. "That was going to be my guess, you know?" He glances down at you, his gaze meeting yours briefly before drifting elsewhere.

Feeling hyperaware of his closeness, particularly the warmth emanating from him, you shift back into the opposite corner of the elevator, but he follows.

Your brow furrows as you grunt, "Personal space, remember?"

"Hold on a second." You feel the gentle touch of his hand atop your head, and moments later, he plucks something green from your hair, fixing you with a pointed look as he extends his palm to you. "A four-leaf clover," he exclaims, excitement glinting in his eyes. "Make a wish on it."

You swat his hand away from your face. "No thanks."

"What, there's nothing you want to have? Nothing you want to wish for?"

Sure, you have a wish—only one. You want your dad back, you want your old life back. The one that felt like summer every year, when there were no cold days.

Feeling the tightness in your throat as your vision blurs, you quickly blink away the incoming tears—you don't remember the last time you cried—and remark sharply, "No, I don't—nothing that's possible anyway. Keep it... or don't, I really don't care."

Just in time, the elevator door dings open, and you rush out of the tight space, desperate for more room.

*********

Fumbling with your key, it takes a few attempts before you finally manage to slot it into the keyhole, agitation coursing through your veins. With a satisfying click, you push the door open, only to find the apartment strangely empty.

Lando squeezes in behind you, causing you to stumble slightly before regaining your footing, shooting him a glare.

He strides down the hallway, with you trailing close behind, and into the brightly lit living room. The space is perfectly tidy, almost unnaturally so—there's not a single thing out of place.

"You sure you live here?" Lando glances back at you, eyebrows raised.

"No, I don't," you reply flatly, "this is actually where I bring idiot boys with no sense of self-preservation to kill."

Lando chuckles, his grin widening slowly. "So, you do have jokes then?"

You shrug and head down another hallway, making a beeline for your bedroom. As you push the door open, memories come flooding back—pictures of your dad adorn the walls, nestled in frames atop the dressers. It's like stepping into a time capsule; everything remains as it was four years ago, yet now it feels tainted.

Without wasting a moment's breath, you flip each picture frame on its head. The images taunt you with their stillness, incapable of conjuring the scent of Dad's favourite cologne or the resonance of his soothing voice. Pictures can't replicate the warmth of his hugs.

Once done, you kneel by your bedside table and retrieve a pair of scissors and bandages from the drawer.

"Now this looks more like it," a voice remarks behind you, causing you to startle and slam the drawer shut, rising to your feet. "This actually looks like someone lives here.”

Balling your empty hand into a fist, nails digging into your palm, you grit out, "I didn't tell you to follow me in here."

Lando raises his hands defensively. "I'm sorry, I was just worried. You were gone for a while, but uhm," he swallows, eyes flicking to the scissors you're clutching.

"Seriously?" you brandish the scissors, "I'm not going to stab you, if that's what you're thinking."

"Sure..."

With a sigh, you take a step forward, but he instinctively retreats, prompting you to shake your head and let out a chuckle—it's been awhile since you've done that.

"It's for the bandage," you remark, crossing your arms. "Also, you do realise you're the intruder here. If anyone should be scared, it's me. But I'm not a scaredy-cat, am I?"

"Neither am I," he insists, dropping his arms.

"Good. Let's head back to the kitchen, then."

*********

Lando leaps onto the counter, eliciting a groan from you as you cut the gauze into a shape that fits the wound on his palm.

Swiftly retrieving a clean tea towel from the cupboard, you situate yourself in front of him, arm extended. "Hand?"

He complies immediately, dropping his hand into your palm, and you begin to dab the skin around the cut dry. Once sure nothing is wet anymore, you reach for the gauze and carefully place it over the wound.

Lando hisses, causing you to tilt your head up, only for a sharp pain to suddenly spread atop your head. You both release loud groans, your hands instinctively moving to massage the throbbing spot on your head, while you watch Lando rubbing his chin.

"What the hell is your problem?" you finally manage after a while.

His eyes widen. "What the hell is my problem? You're the one who suddenly moved," he gestures to you, "you could've given me a heads up or something."

"How was I supposed to know you'd be hovering over me like some weirdo?" you retort.

Lando offers no response; instead, his lips gradually curve into a full-blown grin as he begins to chuckle.

You don’t react, simply staring at him blankly.

“C’mon, don’t lie now,” he says, tilting his head with a smile, “That was kinda funny, you have to admit.”

Despite theatrically rolling your eyes, a small smile betrays your true feelings. Still, you simply shrug and say, "Whatever."

"Alright, cool," Lando nods with a grin. "I'll take that. I'll take a 'whatever' anytime over all the other stuff you've been saying."

Taking the bandage from the counter, you close the gap between you, freeing his hand and delicately wrapping the bandage around the injury.

"You make me sound like a bitch," you mutter, flipping his hand over to inspect the wound. "I'm not—or at least I don't mean to be."

Lando props his free hand onto the counter behind him and leans back, raising his eyebrows. "To be honest, I thought that was the whole vibe you were going for."

You pause, setting the bandage roll on the counter and narrowing your gaze at him. Before you can respond, he quickly adds, "Hey, no judgment from me! I can handle difficult."

"Very funny," you say, shaking your head with a smile as you toss the tea towel into his face.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Lando chuckles, retrieving the towel from his face and sliding it out of reach. When his gaze returns to you, his smile fades, and he simply stares, causing your expression to falter and your eyebrows to furrow.

"What do you think you’re looking at?" you snap, feeling as if you're suddenly trapped in a glass cage.

Leaning forward, a slow smile dances along Lando's lips. "You’re very pretty when you smile," he nods, "you should do that more often, it suits you."

Your expression falters, and you feel your heart sink with guilt. Today marks the fourth anniversary of your dad's passing—the first time you’ve felt strong enough to acknowledge it, to face the hurricane head-on—and here you are, spending it laughing, as if it's not a day plagued with immeasurable sadness and pain.

Isn’t that selfish?

It sure as hell feels like it.

Just like that, the walls rise once more as you fix Lando with a blank expression, swiftly grabbing the bandage roll off the counter. "Let’s just get this done, okay?" Your voice is strained—it scratches at your throat.

"Did I say something wrong?" he asks, confusion swimming in his bright eyes.

You swallow hard and grasp his hand, continuing to wrap up the wound wordlessly.

"I’m sorry," Lando tries again, "If I said something wrong, I’m sorry."

Sighing, you shake your head, and though you feel his gaze piercing your skull, you refuse to tilt your head up to meet his eyes head-on. "Nothing to apologise for," you state quietly, focusing on the task at hand.

This is exactly why you keep to yourself—your pain is yours alone to bear; it's unfair to burden others with it. You're not the same carefree, easily agreeable Y/N you once were back then. That part of you left the world today, four years ago, with your dad.

"Done," you declare, cutting the excess bandage and patting it down. Then, you create some much-needed distance between yourselves, heading towards the sofa and collapsing onto it.

"You know the way out," you yell, squeezing your eyes shut as you focus on your breathing.

The calm doesn’t linger for long, though, when you fail to hear footsteps or the door clicking open. You shoot upright, only to find Lando at the tap, an empty glass in his hand.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" you ask, propping your elbows on the couch’s backrest.

"Getting some water," he gestures toward the faucet and flicks it on. "I’m thirsty."

"You can do that at your own place."

"What, go home for water and then come back?" he shoots you a perplexed look before taking a swig from his glass. "Seems a bit extreme, don’t you think?"

Rising to your feet slowly, you make your way to the opposite end of the counter and lean against it, resting your hands on the cool surface. "And why would you even come back here?"

"For you to check up on me," he explains, waving his bandaged hand in the air, "make sure I don’t develop an infection. I’ve had one before, it was awful."

As if momentarily blinded by sunlight, you blink more than necessary as you process his words. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"The cut, it could get infected after being exposed for so long. So, I think we should wait out the day," he shrugs, "just to make sure it doesn’t get worse."

"And why can't you just go to the hospital?" you press, confusion evident in your voice.

His lips curl into a sly smile as he scratches the back of his neck. "I don't know, you seem to know what you're doing. I trust you."

His admission knots your stomach—you can't recall the last time someone willingly stuck by you after all your attempts at self-sabotage.

You're a pusher. You push and push until people fall off the edge of the cliff, leaving you in the comfort of yourself. So, this catches you off-guard. But strangely enough, the proposal doesn’t make you squirm with disgust, but rather... want? You're not quite sure; it's an old feeling, one you struggle to understand.

"Fine, okay," you sigh, shaking your head in disbelief at your own acquiescence. "I think you're being dramatic, but fine."

Lando nods, a grin spreading slowly across his face. "Great."

The weight of today bears down on you, a stark reminder of your initial plans—ones you can't simply reschedule. No, these you can’t ignore; they're a boulder in your road. Today is the day you will visit your dad; today is the day you will see his tombstone for the very first time.

"I've got somewhere to be tonight," you say, twisting your fingers into painful yet somehow soothing shapes. "So you'll have to leave then. And I’ve got to run some errands throughout the day, so you can, I guess, join me... or you can just stay here—stay out of my fucking bedroom—and yeah, watch TV or whatever it is you do."

"Got any food?" Lando inquires, swinging open your refrigerator doors to reveal painfully empty shelves, save for a lone box of leftover takeout from last night.

"That's a negative," he answers his own question, closing the doors with a sigh before turning to face you. "Can we grab some food while we're out running errands?"

Your stomach grumbles in agreement before you can respond, so you simply nod, snatching up your keys. "We should go now, then."

Lando falls into step beside you in the hallway, and you shoot him a sideways glance, adding, "We'll handle my errand first, then we can grab food."

He holds the door open for you, gesturing for you to pass through. "No complaints from me."

4:05 ───────────ㅇ─ 4:28

TAGS: @leclercdream @evitarubio @landossainz @lottef1 @averymjn

[leoascendente]

PAC/ Intuitive messages III

Hi my loves! Welcome to this new pac, again with intuitive messages for you to lift up your energies and see what Universe has in store for you 💕

As always, take a deep breath before choosing your pile, take what resonates with you and leave the rest.

All pics are from pinterest

For private readings click here

I love you all 🥰

Pile 1:

✨️ A soulmate connection is on it's way, there's a lot of romance here for you so be open to love

✨️ You are connecting with your soul tribe, you are attracting caring and honest new people into your life

✨️ If you are already in a relationship your person is going to take things to the next level. If you are in a no contact situation with your person they will communicate soon with you giving you some king of explanation

✨️ Your psychic gifts are growing, you can suffer from headaches or cold hands and feet, it's all because of energies

✨️ If you got online bussiness they will grow massively in the next 3 months

✨️ Cleanse your energies once a week and invest 5 minutes everyday to meditate

✨️ Keep your dreams and goals to yourself at least for the moment, someone around you has the potential to block your roads with evil eye

✨️ If someone annoys you just walk away, don't argue with anybody, keep your energies to yourself

Pile 2:

👑 Marriage or serious commitment is about to happen, depending on your case

👑 For singles, you are going to meet your FS between Libra and Sagittarius seasons, for a little amount of you the time extends until Taurus season

👑 Wheel of furtune is moving at your favor, you enter in a lucky time of prosperity and abundance

👑 You are aligning with your soul purpose so you'll be receiving a lot of signs and synchronicities, try to rest to don't get overwhelmed

👑 A physical glow up will be happening in the next 2 months

👑 Someone feels a lot of passion for you, they are fantasizing about you in very intimate terms

👑 You'll be feeling more emotional, let those feelings flow and don't try to repress them, you cam learn a lot because of them

👑 A better and healthier relationship with your physical body and appearance, even with food for some of you

Pile 3:

☀️ Money on your way!!! And more than what you expect😏 you'll have the chance to get something nice you couldn't afford before

☀️ The prosperous fulfilling of a project you have in hands

☀️ There's a call or message you were expecting/wishing for that's going to happen very soon, it will feel like a miracle

☀️ Your goals in life start to take a more grounded and stablished point of view, dream big honey because you are leading to success

☀️ Someone has a surprise for you, probably a gift you will love

☀️ You'll be gaining energy and power to achieve your dreams, everything is moving into a positive direction, follow your inspiration

☀️ Your guides will have a more intense precense in your life, thank them for the work they are doing behind the scenes to help you

☀️ Keep being perseverant with whatever you are doing to attract abundance, it will really pay off in a big scale

[lichenes]

Looking for sdv x reader ideas?

I'll do you one, how comes despite their most obvious contrast, there are absolutely zero Shane x Reader x Elliott fics out there? I'll do it myself one day, but for now this tragedy must be shared, and perhaps serve as a spark of inspiration.

Hi anon! You've come at the right time cuz I've been obsessing over them both for a moment... which could mean nothing. And absolutely go write it!! I can't wait to read more of them!!<2 This one took a lot a long while to write but I hope I manage to as the younglings say, eat. CW: hopefully not too ooc. autor fucks around with word formation and fails miserably, brief swearing, pursuing two men at a time, shane being shane :( SFW wc: 1529 .  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚ .  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚

You were acclimatising as The Farmer(™) quite alright. You were well liked by the dwellers of Pelican Town and were generally just doing okay for yourself. You weren't swimming in profit quite yet but you were hoping to get there soon. Working at Joja wasn’t the dream but it did pay the bills so you were hoping you didn’t have to go back to it, because you’ve grown fond of this town and its residents.

Especially two of them. Elliott - the local writer and an absolute heart-throb, a stark contrast to the other, less charming but equally as enthralling - Shane. At first they were both keeping their distance from you, occasionally accepting gifts from you with a better or… worse reaction depending on what you decided to bestow upon them. 

As weeks passed they both started warming up to you, Elliott more so than Shane as he still was not ready to open his heart to someone. Elliott as the hopeless romantic was more so open to your courting, Shane on the other hand went through all five stages of grief when Marnie informed him he was actually being pursued.

Shane wasn’t sure what you saw in him. In his mind he was purely - a slob - an unwanted, shrivelled up shell of a human being who with or without his family could well lay down in his coffin and wait for the sweet release of death.

“What do you want from me?” He said praying to Yoba you’d leave him alone this time. The day was long and hard and he just wanted to drink in peace and not ruin a relationship he held so dear with a rage fueled comment. Relentlessness was what you were known for though so despite the slight hurt you felt you pulled out a bunch of chillies out of your basket and handed it to Shane. 

“Just wanted to give you this. They’re in season and…” You trailed off, your hand still extended towards him. “...how’d you know this is my favourite?” He stared at them with a hidden warmth in his eyes. You just smiled and mentioned a little birdy. He had a long stern talk with Jas after that. 

A few days later you received a pizza in the mail and you knew… you knew he was smitten.

During the winter there wasn’t much to do besides fuck around in the mines and fish. At the end of one of the short, winter days you entered Elliott’s house cold and tired after a good few hours of fishing. “Ah! And what are you doing here?” You were basically vibrating with excitement (and possibly shaking from the cold). “I know Pierre doesn’t sell this so…” You presented him with a bottle of squid ink. 

“I brought a bottle in case I caught a squid and wouldn’t you know!!” His eyes slowly rose up from his work and he stood up from the chair, starling you in the process. “My yoobness you are truly wonderful.” Your face got a little hotter at his comment as he strode towards you taking the bottle gently out of your hands. He placed it onto the nearest surface and turned back towards you. 

“Now.” His form was towering over you. Your breathing deepened as he leaned down to your level, his hair cascading down the sides of his face. A certain tenderness washed over you. You tucked a few strands of hair behind his ear and let your hand rest on his cheek. You caressed it and leaned impossibly close, your noses almost touching.

You suddenly pulled away and gave him an excuse to leave, your face hot and your hands trembling with anticipation. You exited the humble abode and went on walk slightly faster to your farmhouse than you usually would.

“You… temptress.” He mumbled under his breath as he stood there… confused. 

You could imagine that Elliott and Shane, except for the festivals, didn’t interact much. Shane spent all his days at work or in his room and Elliott at the beach. By the grace of Yoba they both, at 5pm. would head for the Saloon and keep themselves occupied, with conversation or mindless drinking. 

Once, when Elliott was severely inebriated he, suddenly emboldened by the alcohol coursing through his veins, sat down next to Shane and began conversing. “So Shane… wha’s your problem?” Shane just ignored him, looking down at the usually well kept man. His hair a mess and and a stain from the wine he was drinking on his dress shirt. “What’s yours?” Elliott rolled his eyes. “Why are you hitting on Farmer? I’ve heard you sent a pizza… must be serious…”

Shane’s cheeks suddenly went a deeper shade of red. “It’s none of your business.” Elliott smiled lopsidedly. “Yanno… we almost kissed a few days back.” Shane’s head darted towards Elliott. He continued. “Yeah… I think we’re in a pickle, man.” Shane grabbed Elliott by the collar and pulled him up as the drunk man began laughing. “Elliott, I swear to Yoba if this is true.” He nodded. “Totally true. I even got a gift.” Shane let go of Elliott and felt a cold breeze flow through him, locking him back in his shell. 

“You need to go home.” Said Shane looking at Elliott with an indescribable sadness in his eyes. “But I’m havin’ such a nice conversation with you…” Proclaimed Eliott, sarcastically. “I will carry you home if it means I don’t have to listen to you talk.” 

And so they ended up here. Elliott on top of Shane snoring softly and Shane terrified to move as to not wake him up and possibly cause a scene. Embarrassingly so, when Shane looked toward Elliott he felt a pang of shame. Elliott, the graceful, beautiful and kind-hearted person he showed himself to be was a way better a partner than Shane ever could be. 

The night after, Elliott woke up next to Shane. Elliott felt horrified that he did something without Shane’s consent as he remembered they were both pretty drunk last night. When Shane opened his eyes he was startled at first. “Did we…?” Said Shane surprising Elliott in the process. He turned to the older man with a slight smile. “Did you want us to?” 

“Not in the mood for stupid jokes. I might hate you for what you’ve done with Farmer since yesterday.” Elliott’s smile dropped. “Look, you’ve invited yourself into my house, slept in my bed and now are-” Shane stopped him. “I get it.” Silence fell between them. 

“At the end of the day It’s the Farmers choice. We can’t do anything about it.” Shane nodded void of any emotion.

You entered the Stardrop Saloon, the air heavy with suspense. A few days ago you asked them via mail to meet up here, at 9pm when most guests would leave, for privacy.  Elliott and Shane were sitting in silence, neither of them drinking, Gus was also absent, for some reason. “Hi.” You said meekly. 

“Hello.” Elliott said back as Shane only looked at you. “I’ve got a lot of explaining to do.” 

“I know you feel betrayed, both of you and I wish I could take it all away from you but…” You stopped and then looked at them pleadingly. “I hope you understand that it’s difficult to choose and I won’t be making that decision at all.” They both looked at you questioning your statement. “My point is… I want to be with you both. I want to get to know and live a long fulfilling life with you… both.” 

They couldn’t utter a single word afraid that in the heat of the moment they would say something utterly stupid. “Say something…” You pleaded. “I think Elliott would be a much better partner than me.” Spoke up Shane. “I can’t take care of myself, much less of others and…” Elliott turned abruptly to jim. “That’s nonsense! I’ve seen you take care of Jas and Marnie time and time again. Sam constantly raves about your job ethic! You never miss a day and are always on time. You constantly put yourself down despite all the positive things people say about you. See, for once, you have a chance at love, true unbridled love and you want to give it up because YOU think you’re not good enough?!” Elliott was breathing heavily after his rant and you were all stunned at the sudden explosion of emotions. 

“Elliott I-” Said Shane, at a loss for words. “I wish you would recognise the beauty sitting within you Shane. Get out of your shell and let yourself be happy.” Finished Elliott. Shane’s stoic demeanour was slowly crumbling. “So I guess you’ll have double the expenses now…” You looked at Shane questioningly. “You know… two flower bouquets and all.” You beamed.

Each night after that Shane would swing by as Elliott made his way to your house and you’d spend the remainder of the day talking, gossiping and enjoying each other's presence. Soon enough Elliott would see you walking in the rain to the beach and he immediately told Shane the great news. 

“Till death do us part and beyond."

.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚ .  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚ BONUS: Them in this fic...

masterlist

[loneswaggingranger]

no business drowning on my knees

My gift for @fivemourners-onefuneral for the Grishaverse gift exchange, @grishawintergifts. This is an alternate version of season 2 episode 1 of the TV show where instead of being apprehended when they reach the Crow Club, Kaz, Jesper and Inej get cornered the second they disembark from the ship in Ketterdam. Features Kaz's hidden panic, Inej's queen energy, Jesper's tomfoolery and a sprinkling of Sturmhond. Hope you like it!

The stadwatch has their eyes on them. Their guns, pointed at them from every direction. Kaz slowly raises one of his hands in surrender. Beside him, Jesper and Inej do the same

They’re trapped along the coastline of the Fifth Harbour. There aren’t many ships around to save them at this time of night – the Edam would be the last passing ship by this harbour until daybreak. Kaz’s gloved fingers flex against the head of his crow cane. There’s only two ways out of this – one, they let the stadwatch catch them now, and figure out a plan of escape after; or two, they –

“Oi, Fahey, don’t–”

– jump into the sea, and swim to the next ship. Kaz closes his eyes, jaw ticking as he hears the splash of water behind him. Jesper’s gone, impulsive, reckless and downright idiotic man that he is. 

The stadwatch burst into a flurry of movement and sound. Kaz’s wraith, ever the opportunist, takes advantage of this and sinks into the shadows. More movement. More sound. Rough hands reach for Kaz’s neck. Kaz ducks one second before skin comes into contact with him, heart thundering in his ribcage, ears ringing. 

Inej is hidden. Jesper is underwater. Hands are reaching for him. They passed by the Volkvolny earlier, lurking along the shorelines of the Fourth Harbour. There’s only one logical recourse.

Kaz throws away his cane and sinks into the sea below. 

–

Water explodes against his face, burning in his nostrils, accosting his vision in sharp cold waves. Kaz holds his breath, scanning the sea for any sign of Jesper. His hat would have fallen during the fall, but the movements of his large coat should be visible enough, even under waning moonlight. Kaz should be able to –

A hand swipes down from above, brushing against Kaz’s arm. A field of bodies. The stench of corpses. Kaz wrenches himself away, kicking at the unknown perpetrator, pulling himself forward with the current. The relentless cold sea. The taste of rotting flesh. He needs to leave. He will have to look for his sharpshooter after he finds land. 

The face of his dead brother, in a sea of unknown dead faces. Floating along the waves, coasting by on cold bodies, sticky, grimy, some with their eyes open but unseeing. The heat of the dead. Tears stinging little Rietveld’s eyes –

Kaz fights to keep his lungs steady. He cannot panic. It’s too early to surface for air. 

He’s all alone, he can’t breathe, he’s crying, he’s all alone, he can’t breathe–

Another hand comes down for him, Kaz veers away from it – it misses him by a hair. His heart clenches in his chest. His leg aches. He needs to get to that ship, fast. 

–

Jesper is hauled aboard the Volkvolny by a pair of strong hands. He presses his hand against the floorboard, coughing up a storm, water spilling from his lungs. He raises his head, blearily and sees Inej crouched beside him. She doesn’t have a speck of moisture on her skin. Of course. 

Inej rests her hands on Jesper’s shoulder. They’re bound in rope. Jesper stares at it but calms enough to ask, “Did I beat Kaz to the ship?” 

Inej gives him a look. “We’re still looking for him.” She points her chin towards the person who looks to be the captain of this ship, what with the flashy teal coat and gaudy gold buttons. “He has questions for all of us.”

“That makes me sound vaguely ominous,” The captain remarks. “Though, I guess that isn’t too much of a stretch, considering the circumstances.” He extends a hand towards Jesper, the other holding the same fashion of rope that binds Inej. 

Jesper eyes it warily, but lets himself be pulled up at a warning glance from Inej. They’re playing the weakling until Kaz got on this ship. Got it. 

“Sorry about this. Can’t be too careful, you know?” The captain says, though he doesn’t sound too sorry as he casually loops the rope around Jesper’s wrist. “Do you know who I am, by the way?” 

Jesper’s heard of him. Most of the stories he's heard border close to myth and legend, but Jesper’s heard of him. “Sturmhond, right? The pirate.”

Inej slips to her feet beside Jesper, ever graceful, ever watchful. Sturmhond lets Jesper go to fall in step in front of her. There are two others aboard the ship, a stocky frame and a lithe one, stationed at the edge of the ship, probably to get their hands on Kaz the second they smell a whiff of his presence in the seas. 

Sturmhond clicks his tongue. “Privateer. There’s a distinct difference.” 

Before Jesper can tell the prick where to shove his distinct difference, one of the crew along the edge – the lithe one, who has two axes strapped to her body – yells, “We found him, boss!”

Both Jesper and Inej crash over to the edge. 

–

Corpses. Water. Corpses. Water. Hands, coming for him. Skin, skin, skin. 

Kaz likes to think that he let himself get dragged on board. In truth, it was more like he saw the bottom half of the Volkvolny from underwater, and then he saw more hands reaching down for him, and then they grabbed hold of him, and then he went limp.

The hands are still on him even when he touches hardwood. He doesn’t breathe. 

Someone shoves the hands away. “Stop touching him, asshole.” 

“Kaz, can you hear me?” Another voice, soft and low enough that Kaz turns his head towards it, blind and frozen though he is. “You’re on the Volkvolny. You’re okay. Your Wraith is here.” 

Wraith. Kaz’s wraith. Inej. Kaz’s head clears. The soft crease in his Wraith’s otherwise stoic expression, her eyes, dark and gentle in a way that both settles and invigorates Kaz’s devil in equal measure. Her wrists are bound. Kaz’s eyes narrow. 

He swivels his head to regard the figures standing over him and his Crows. Jesper points to one of them – the one with leather breeches and a too-teal coat – and stage-whispers, “That’s the privateer who's totally not a pirate. He calls himself Sturmhond.”

Sturmhond gives him a rakish, dangerous smile and hands him a length of rope. Drenched and dishevelled though he is, Kaz looks Sturmhond dead in the eye, takes the rope and tosses it overboard. 

Sturmhond’s crew let out twin squawks of indignation but Sturmhond waves them down. Kaz ignores them and jerks his chin at Sturmhond alone. There’s only one question to ask now. 

“What business?” 

[littlest-w01f]

Wings

Elain x Reader

For @elainarcheronweek

Elain Week 2024 Masterlist

Day 2: Hope

Summary: Elain as a human always has hope, hope of helping, and now she helps you

Cw: Fluff, hurt.

Elain sighed, it was winter again, she always hated winter, because it meant she couldn't garden as much as she wanted to. The sound of rain tapping against the window panes filled the room, its rhythm soothing and comforting. It starkly contrasted the silence that usually enveloped the house during these cold months. Elain gazed out the window, watching the raindrops run down the glass, leaving behind water trails.

As Elain stood there, lost in thought, the patter of raindrops suddenly intensified into heavy snow. Her hand instinctively reached for the curtains to draw them shut. But something about the storm outside caught her attention - a flicker of movement amidst the driving rain.

Curiosity piqued, Elain pressed her nose against the cool pane, peering through the veil of snowflakes. It was a snow owl, which confused Elain greatly, since she was sure there were no snow owls in the peasant village her family lived it, heading for nowhere, and it looked injured by the wing, Elain opened the window again, hoping the owl would see it.

The owl fluttered closer, drawn by the warmth emanating from inside. Its feathers were matted with blood near one wing tip, confirming Elain's suspicions of injury. With great care, she extended her arm towards the creature, coaxing it to land.

To her surprise, the owl alighted gently onto her forearm, its talons barely grazing her skin. Up close, Elain could see the bird's striking beauty - pure white plumage, piercing golden eyes, and a regal bearing despite its wounded state.

"I've got you," Elain murmured softly, cradling the owl protectively against her chest. She carried it inside, away from the biting chill and relentless snow. Elain carefully examined the owl's injuries, marvelling at the resilience of nature even in the harshest conditions, keeping quiet so her sister or father wouldn't hear.

As Elain tended to the owl's wounds, she felt an inexplicable connection to the majestic creature. Its calm demeanour and trusting gaze seemed to mirror the serenity she found in her beloved gardens during the warmer months.

Lost in this moment, Elain failed to notice the subtle changes occurring within herself. A sense of purpose, once absent due to the seasonal constraints on her gardening, now stirred within her breast. This injured snow owl had somehow awakened a deeper longing - a desire to nurture and heal, not just plants but all living things in need.

The owl suddenly turned into a fae female right before her eyes, Elain could barely hold back a sharp scream as the Fae now sat in front of her in bed, her eyes were wide as she ran to the other side of the room, trying to find iron to defend herself against the horrid creatures that were Fae, but as you looked back at the female, pointed ears, beautiful blonde locks, pained golden eyes, she wondered if the you were more scared of her, than she was of you.

You looked up from where you were seated, "Please... I need help." You whimpered, what was once your injured wing, was now your injured arm and shoulder, "I need... Help."

Elain’s heart pounded in her chest, adrenaline coursing through her veins. For a moment, she contemplated reaching for the nearby poker, a crude yet effective weapon against such ethereal beings. Yet, something held her back, perhaps it was the plea in your voice, or the raw vulnerability etched across your delicate features.

Elain swallowed hard, slowly lowering her hands to her sides. “What happened to you?” she asked cautiously, trying to maintain eye contact with you despite her own rapidly beating heart.

"I was caught, by this evil female, she... She wanted to take my feathers so she forced me to turn..." You groaned in pain, "But they had just started to harm me that I flew, hard and fast, I didn't see where I was going... I ended up here." You looked up at her, "But you're human, which only means I crossed the wall on acident."

Elain listened intently, her expression softening with each word you spoke. She moved closer, placing the poker back on the fireplace that didn't really light anymore. Despite your current form being that of a Fae, Elain couldn’t deny the sorrowful tale you recounted.

“I’m glad you landed here,” she said gently, kneeling beside you. “Let me help you.” Reaching out a tentative hand, she gingerly touched your uninjured shoulder. “Do you have a name? Or can I call you Snowflake?”

"I'm y/n, you may call me y/n." You gasped as she touched your shoulder, trying to assess the damage.

Elain stayed quiet, looking at your shoulder and biceps bloody, from what she could tell, the cuts weren't that big, but you did lose a lot of blood, she wished she had paid more time to Feyre's injuries from hunting than the few times she had, so that she knew exactly what to do, but she did know the basics, "I'll clean it and then have it wrapped, you Fae heal quick, right?" She asked.

You nodded weakly, your breathing shallow. "Yes, we heal quickly. But the transformation took a toll on my body, so did the torture."

Elain left quick and fetched a bowl of water and some clean cloth. Gently, she began to cleanse your wounds, wincing sympathetically at your winces and gasps. "I'm sorry, I know this hurts, and we don't have any warm water..." she murmured apologetically.

"I don't mind," You groaned, "I've had worse."

As she worked, Elain couldn't help but marvel at the intricacy of your Fae features, the delicate points of your ears, the iridescent shimmer of your skin. It was like tending to a rare, exotic flower.

Only now did Elain allow herself to take you in fully, your bare body and all. A blush formed on her cheeks as she tried looking past the curves of your breasts, to focus on the task at hand instead of letting her eyes wander.

Despite her attempts to keep her focus on your injuries, Elain couldn’t ignore the alluring sight of your figure. Elain briefly let her gaze linger before forcing herself to look back down at your shoulder.

"You’re very beautiful," she blurted out unintentionally, immediately regretting her words. "I mean, not that I'm staring or anything…" she stammered, flustered.

"Well thank you, sweet human," You giggle heartily, "What should I call you? Do you have a name or does darling work for you?"

Elain's face flushed an even deeper shade of crimson at your teasing remark and playful nickname. She ducked her head, trying to hide her embarrassment.

"E-Elain is fine," she managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper. "And please, don't call me darling. I'm not used to such…forwardness."

Despite her protests, Elain couldn't deny the flutter in her chest at your charming smile and the way your golden eyes sparkled with mirth. There was something undeniably captivating about you, even in your weakened state.

"So, Elain, do you help random Faeries crashing through your windows or am I special?" You teased.

She gave a small laugh, still blushing slightly under your teasing gaze. "It seems like you're rather lucky, y/n," she replied, her voice gentle despite the playful tone. "No one else has ever stumbled in quite like this before."

Her fingers continued their careful ministrations on your wounds, wiping away the last traces of blood until nothing remained but clean, smooth skin marked by a few cuts. A thin layer of ointment was applied to prevent infection followed by snug bandages made of old cloth.

"There," Elain declared finally, sitting back on her heels with a satisfied nod. "That should help with the pain. Just be sure not to agitate them too much."

Once your injuries were properly attended to, Elain carefully helped you sit upright. Her touch was surprisingly gentle, almost feather-light, sending pleasant shivers down your spine.

"Rest now," she urged softly, pulling a blanket over your shoulders. "Your body needs time to get better after everything you’ve been through."

She watched you closely, her brow furrowed with concern. Despite her initial fear and confusion upon seeing your true nature, there was now a genuine warmth in her gaze – a kind of caring affection that only someone who truly understood pain could possess.

"Is there anything else I can do for you?" she asked quietly, her voice laced with sincerity.

"Nothing, thank you, sweet human." You whisper softly, "I shall leave once I'm healed."

Elain's heart sank at your words, though she understood why you would want to return to your own world. Still, she hoped that maybe you'd reconsider staying for a while longer.

There was a flicker of disappointment in Elain's eyes at your words, quickly replaced by understanding. She leaned back, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear with a gentle touch. "I understand. I hope I could see you again." She said, even if she knew the chance was highly unlikely.

"I hope so too, Elain." You smiled back at her.

{General Taglist- @nox-ceur @lilah-asteria @paleidiot @dee-writes-smut @adalia-jaycee @anarchiii @alwayshave-faith @velarisnightsky444 @minnieoo}

[crowleysgirl56]

Wildest dreams wishes for Good Omens Season 3 which will probably not come true but I can still hope hey!

Number 10.

I know I’m not the only one who is desperate to see an “Aziraphale saves Crowley” moment in season 3. Seasons 1 and 2 showed Crowley coming to Aziraphale’s rescue on multiple occasions, so a grand reversal of this for season 3 is one of my very hot desires. I put forth my imagined scenario below:

The ultimate battle between heaven and hell has begun. Aziraphale and Crowley have chosen their side. The side of “Us”. They fight together, completely in sync with one another. Powerful angelic and demonic miracles blast from their hands. They fight in the heavens, their wings outspread, both glittering in the blazing sunlight. Aziraphale once again holds his flaming sword. Crowley turns to him during a rare pause in the battle and admires his angel. “Look at you!” Aziraphale looks over at Crowley, who moves back slightly hovering in the air to admire him further in all his glowing glory. “You’re gorgeous”. Both their smiles are radiant. They know exactly what they are fighting for.

Suddenly Crowley gasps, his body tenses. Aziraphale looks down at first in confusion at the sight of a sharp bloodied point protruding from Crowley’s chest. Icy cold realisation hits him just as the evil grinning face of Michael comes into view from behind Crowley’s shoulder. She pulls the spear from his back, her face triumphant. Crowley’s beautiful golden eyes holds Aziraphale’s gaze for a moment, then roll to the back of his head as his wings go limp, and he plummets from the air.

“CROWLEY!” Aziraphale screams, as he hurls his flaming sword directly at Michael. The sword rotates end over end hitting its mark square in Michael’s chest catching her completely off guard.

Aziraphale not waiting around to witness the result of his throw dives down after Crowley. He gains on the plummeting figure of his love but the demon is falling too fast. Aziraphale chokes back the panic rising in his throat along with the unbidden thoughts that he might be too late. He stretches out his hands, beating his wings faster and harder, willing himself to close the distance and grasp Crowley before it’s too late. To his horror he can see the ocean below fast rising to meet them. Down, down Crowley falls. Aziraphale grits his teeth and stretches out that little bit further. “Almost there, almost there” he thinks to himself.

Too late. Crowley plunges into the water. The impact retracts his wings back into the ethereal plane where they usually reside. As he sinks into the depths Aziraphale enters the water like a torpedo. Thankfully the surface tension of the water has slowed Crowley’s decent measurably and Aziraphale is finally able to catch up to him. But not before he notices the terrifying cluster of air bubbles releasing from Crowley’s mouth. They don’t need to breathe, obviously, but in his weakened state Crowley’s corporation seems to have forgotten this. At last reaching his strong arms firmly around Crowley, Aziraphale miracles them back to the only place of sanctuary and safety he can think of; the bookshop.

Collapsing onto the floor in a shower of spray, Aziraphale gasps Crowley’s name, his hands shooting to cradle his head, then immediately begins to give him mouth to mouth, before realising that isn’t necessary. Chiding himself for his panicked stupidity he instead extends his hands over Crowley’s chest and calling upon his powers as supreme arch angel heels the wound made by the spear, at the same time as drawing the sea water from his lungs. Crowley finally gasps then, with back arching off the ground screams in pain from the angelic healing. As quick as it started however the pain dissipates, and taking deep shuddering breaths Crowley opens his eyes and stares into the concerned face of his rescuer. His angel.

“Hey Angel” he whispers, still breathing heavy. “Um…watch out?”

Aziraphale, with relief flooding through him, pulls Crowley up off the floor into a tight embrace. His wings still out, wraps them protectively around the soaked demon. Choking back tears and a small laugh he playfully replies, “Don’t pretend you did something noble. Neither of us saw Michael coming and you know it”. Crowley hugging Aziraphale back just as tightly mumbles into his shoulder, “Thanks. I guess I owe you one”.

As he breaks their embrace, Aziraphale gently places his hands either side of Crowley’s face, tenderly stroking his cheeks. “You don’t owe me anything dearest, except to promise to stay eternally by my side.”

Crowley, overcome with emotion pulls his angel into a long, spine tingling kiss, bringing out his own wings once more to mingle with Aziraphale’s.

After what feels like an eternity, yet nearly not long enough, Crowley breaks their kiss and presses his forehead to Aziraphale’s sighing, “We should probably get back to the fray”.

“Oh please, five minutes? Can we please just have five minutes?” The deep and desperate longing in Aziraphale’s voice matches the tired ache in Crowley’s own chest, an ache that was there long before a spear ever pierced it.

“Oh course Angel” he whispers back. “Anything you want”.

[littlemissmanga]

Song of the Caged Bird (1/3)

Summary: Crosshair has failed. Still imprisoned on Tantis, he sees Omega and knows that his brothers didn't heed his warning. Unable to face his failure, he starts losing what little hope remained as he and his sister are offered as tribute to Hemlock's ambition. But every night, a voice echoing off the mountains soothes his battered and broken soul. But can Crosshair recover himself before that voice is silenced, forever?

Pairing: Crosshair x f!OC

Rating: PG-13 (there will be violence and a lot of dark thoughts and eventually a very vengeful Crosshair)

Tone: Hurt/comfort overall with a happy ending, but this first chapter will be 90% hurt with only 10% comfort.

Warnings: Some depressive/suicidal thoughts, imprisonment, threats of torture, characters dealing with grief and guilt spoiler if you haven't seen season 2 - Tech is dead in this fic, despite my beliefs to the contrary

Chapter w/c: 2,000

It was the constant tinkering near his head that dragged him back to consciousness.

Tap, tap, tap.

Nails against the light metal underneath him, pricking at his ears and sending sharp vibrations along the slab.

Damn Imps were even worse than the Kaminoans. At least the long necks would let him sleep after an experiment.

Arms and legs extended out from his body, cuffed and locked at the wrists and ankles for maximum exposure, Crosshair could feel the cold from the table seeping through his thin prison uniform. He didn’t remember passing out this time, but he already wished he could again.

The exhaustion was starting to wear on him. Though, if he were really being honest, the physical ache he felt in his bones was nothing he couldn’t handle.

It was the rest that was harder to ignore.

Crosshair was tired to the core of his being. Giving up was something wholly unfamiliar to him. The thought used to earn a sneer and a snide comment. But he was slowly coming to understand the allure. How easy it would be to just not wake up.

“Crosshair?”

What was he even waking up for? If he succeeded, his brothers would be far away with the kid. If he didn’t … well, he didn’t want to find that out, anyway.

“Crosshair!?”

The voice was louder that time, more insistent, and the sniper was aware enough to catch a quiver in his name. Emerie Karr had never so much as flinched in his presence. The discrepancy scratched at his brain, irritating until he opened his eyes.

And his heart sank.

Neatly combed blonde hair and large, sad brown eyes filled his vision.

“Crosshair! You’re awake! I was so worried; it was taking so long.” The kid threw herself on top of him, and if he had any air in his lungs, it would have been pushed out by the weight of her solid form pressing down on his.

The moment she pulled back, his eyes narrowed at her, ignoring the tear stains marking her cheeks and the spark of hope now hiding in the corner of her eyes.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

Her face fell, and somewhere deep in his heart, Crosshair cared. But that didn’t matter. More important was the fact that she was here. His karking wanna-be hero brothers ignored the warning he risked his neck to send and the kid was still kidnapped.

It was only then that the cold shock of reality bit, clawing deep.

Hunter would never have let her go without a fight … or alone.

“The others?”

The kid sighed and fell back into a seat next to his table. “Safe, I think."

“You think?” he spit.

“Yeah. I think,” she snapped, though it lacked much bite. “I … I was able to distract the troopers long enough for Hunter and Wrecker to get free, and Echo was never captured. But I got grabbed. And I saw Maia in the transport with me.”

The name wasn’t familiar, but Crosshair knew who Omega was talking about. Her. That woman who had been with them on Kamino. The one they replaced him with in the squad mere rotations after they left him.

Of course she got caught, too. A kid and a civvie had no place in this.

“Figures. I risk my neck and you still get caught.” Crosshair strained against his bindings, his muscles aching from disuse. “I assume Tech at least got a tracker on your transport?”

It took a beat longer that it should have for Crosshair to realize the optimistic response he expected from the kid never came.

Omega’s silence said more than her incessant chattering ever did. Never in his life had Crosshair wanted her irritating, chipper voice to grate his ears as he did right then, and every moment he waited for it pulled at his heart until it felt stretched like the silence, far too thin to survive yet it was the heaviest weight he ever carried.

“Tech … he …”

Shut up, shut up, shut up.

“Shut up.”

How many times had he told his brother that? Told him to stop annoying him with his endless rants and useless information briefs?

But Crosshair didn’t dwell on the fact that he’d never tell Tech to shut up again. That the last thing he did say to him was cruel and spiteful. No, he didn’t focus at all on how he could feel the loss as acutely as he did the armor-penetrating cold on Barton IV.

Instead, he retreated to what he knew: turning pain to anger. He let it sit just as heavy as Omega’s silence, his accusations unsaid but understood. If they just karking listened to him, for once, Tech would still be alive.

It wasn’t long before Emerie Karr’s voice actually rang out, calling for Omega. And though he could feel the kid’s stare as she paused before leaving, he kept his face turned away.

He wanted to be left alone with his failure. And finally, he was getting his wish.

It was hours later when the Imps finally returned him to his cell. Just one of countless holding clones prisoner for experimentation and decommissioning.

The densely populated prison was surprisingly quiet, something for which Crosshair was thankful. The somber silence was as far from his experiences with his squad as possible. At least the regs could give him this.

Despite his muscles aching for use, Crosshair could only curl up on the pathetic excuse for a bed. He wanted the weight he felt to crush him, to actually wreck him the way it felt it could. Maybe then he’d be free.

A small part of his brain surged in resistance. Omega was here. He should keep her safe.

But he tried that before. And look where it got him. Where it got all of them.

Where it got Tech.

So instead, he let himself drown in the silence.

That is, until a small, frail sound made its way from somewhere above. A higher level of the compound, maybe. The echo made it difficult to pinpoint, but Crosshair didn’t care to know anyway.

It was a tune, hushed and broken. Its stuttering stops and starts were irritating, distracting him from his guilt and solitude until finally, the source seemed to gain enough strength to force the sound from their diaphragm.

"Somewhere … over the rainbow,

Way up high,

There's a land that I heard of

Once in a lullaby."

The staccato start had smoothed, and the voice rang through clean. It still wasn't loud, but it bounced off the fortress and surrounding mountain range, making it seem as if it were coming from nowhere and everywhere all at once.

Unable to block it out and unwilling to resist anything Tantis had left to throw at him, Crosshair gave in and lost himself in the sound.

"Somewhere over the rainbow

Skies are blue,

And the dreams that you dare to dream

Really do come true."

At first, he bristled at the words. But as the song kept repeating, the lyrics fell away. He felt the bittersweet tune envelope him and, after just a little longer, he allowed it to lull him to sleep.

And when the early morning light cut across his eyes and forced him from the blissful emptiness of his sleep the next morning, Crosshair intentionally ignored the fact that it was his first night without nightmares in weeks.

a/n: This is so not my usual style as I tend to be a fluff author all the way. BUT I had a scene pop into my head (it'll come in chapter 2) and this whole fic started unraveling. It'll be a 3-part series, not very long at all, and it'll be entirely from Crosshair's POV. I hope to get it done before Season 3 debuts so I get all my nerves out here and can still be hopeful for our boys canonically.

Taglist: (This is still broken cause I'm broke AF right now and can't upgrade my google storage so if your name isn't on here and you want to be alerted when Chapter 2 comes out, then drop a comment or DM and I'll add you to the list.

@dreamie411, @wings-and-beskar @starrylothcat @sev-on-kamino @wolffegirlsunite @secondaryrealm @idontgetanysleep @freesia-writes @clonemedickix @multi-fan-dom-madness @dystopicjumpsuit @sinfulsalutations @sunshinesdaydream @wizardofrozz @anxiouspineapple99 @dhawerdaverd @mythical-illustrator

People who liked my announcement post (Let me know if you want/don't want to be tagged going forward. I just wanted to let you know it was out since you showed interest): @ci-avmovies14 @rogue616, @marvel-starwarsfangirl

Like this fic? Check out the rest of my Masterlist!

[topwrite025]

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ。 Together Always | Serrenwong | Chapter Two: Silent Pursuit 　ﾟ･｡･ﾟ

| this snippet is from chapter 2 of my ada wong/leon kennedy/luis serra fic i've been working on | it's a little short (2k words) and i'm a little disappointed with that but I hope it's enjoyable anyway | full chapter here |

Even with the sharp heel of those soft leather boots, their wearer traversed the terrain with ease. She made no noise as she jumped from tree to tree, platform to platform, scaling walls with the professionalism of a seasoned rock climber.

She landed on a ledge overlooking the view of a castle. It wasn't particularly grand—just a few towers here and there, with catapults perched at their peaks. Below, cultish guards paced the grounds, their eyes scanning the perimeter.

According to her sources, her inside man was there. He had been captured not long ago and his tracker pinpointed his location. She has sent him in alone—her mistake perhaps— but the irritation remained. He'd insisted that he could take care of himself but here he had gone and gotten himself kidnapped.

So much for taking care of yourself, Luis. She thought disdainfully. Grappling the wall below, she dropped into a free fall toward the stone. Landing lightly on her feet, she pressed herself flat against the wall, waiting until the guards had swayed a different direction before continuing her pursuit.

Spotting an open window on the level she’d reached, she grappled up to it and slid inside.

Hooking her grapple gun back onto her belt, she unsheathed her pistol. Slowly, she crept through the stone hallway, examining the rows of torches on the wall. Certainly medieval, isn't it?

Luis was likely in a cell, waiting to die. But she wouldn't let that happen. Not when the item in his possession was so critical. No. Luis Serra wouldn't die on her watch.

A cold breeze swept through the hallway, sending her hair into her face and penetrating any gaps she might've had in her clothing. She shivered. Maybe I should've brought my scarf. She mused. But the thought of Luis sitting cold and alone in a cell dampened her amusement. Briefly. Then she remembered his overconfidence, and the pity evaporated.

Carefully, she opened a door, hoping it wouldn't squeak. Then she slunk inside, stalking the guard bumbling back and forth at the end of the hallway. She grabbed her around the face, smothering her calls for help and slit her throat in one clean motion. Gently lowering the body, she crept to the next door, and slipped into the dungeon.

Unfortunately, getting here wasn't enough. She needed to find Luis's cell. Hopefully he hasn't been executed yet. That'd be bad for business.

From afar, she heard a voice: "Es hora de pillarlo.” Which caught her attention.

Quickly, she grappled up to the rafters, perching on top of them to survey the situation below. A collection of guards were marching down the lanes between the cells, making their way down to one in particular on the end. 

Luis's.

She couldn't be certain at first, but the figure clapping his hands and shuffling around confirmed it. Luis. Dancing. Salsa dancing maybe? A strange choice when death was imminent.

She crouch walked across the thin wood beams, zeroing in above Luis's cell, confirming it was him as she got closer. He sighed heavily and said something in Spanish that she couldn't quite catch. 

He looked defeated. Underneath the sarcasm he was dishing out to the guards in front of him, she could tell that he was scared. 

Not for long.

The moment the guards unlocked the door, she leapt down, landing squarely on two of them. Before they could react, she dropped to the floor and swept the others off of their feet

Drawing her knife, she drove it into the first guard's head before turning to the second. Gripping his face with both hands, she spun him into the floor, crushing his skull beneath her boot for good measure.

With the guards neutralized, she extended a hand to Luis. He hesitated for a moment, but took it, spinning her around quickly toward his body. She went along with it, allowing him to finish his dance and letting him wrap his arm around her waist in a final pose.

“Ada,” He said brightly. “What a pleasant surprise.”

“You didn't think I was just going to leave you here.” She replied dryly back, shoving a pack of cigarettes into his hand. “I thought you said you could handle yourself.”

“Ah,” He examined the pack for with a grin. “Wonderful. Those bastards took everything from me when they took me.”

“Even the amber?!”

Luis looked up at her and wagged his finger. “I hid it before they caught up to me.”

Ada relaxed. “Great. Take me to it.”

Luis seemed momentarily disappointed by the lack of praise, but masked it well. He gestured grandly. “Ladies first.”

[a-cup-of-fruit-medley]

Why so blue?

Part 2

The table was set all fancy and cute with a pitcher of lemonade and two glasses. Villain set two muffins on the table and pulled out a chair for hero.

“These have had plenty of time to cool, you should learn what fifteen means, Hero.”

“Ah, maybe I should, but do you know what this means?”

Hero lifted their left hand inches away from Villain’s face, and extended their middle finger.

Villain frowned.

“Sorry, I meant this. The mark on my finger. The one that you put there.”

“Yes, I do.”

Villain turned around and added seasoning to something on the stove. Hero propped their chin on their hand and took a bite of the muffin.

“Would you like some eggs, Hero?”

“No. Never. TELL ME WHAT’S ON MY PINKY!”

Villain removed the pan from heat and scraped the eggs into the trash.

“Hero, I need your help. Do you remember Supervillain?”

“Ew.”

“That’s perfect!!”

Villain giggled and dropped the pan and spatula into the sink, then joined Hero at the table.

“I need your help taking them down.”

“Why not ask a villain?”

“Well I would if the nearby villains hadn’t already been charmed by that mouth breather! And after all that fun we had talking shit about Supervillain too. That’s the real kick in the clam.”

“Bummer.”

Hero grabbed a third and fourth muffin.

“Hero, you’re the only person in this city I can always depend on.

Villain looked at the mark on their finger and smiled. Hero slid up their sleeve and hid their bare wrist with a muffin.

“Darn, Aw snap, look at the time, I gotta go.”

Hero ran over to the window and pushed it open. Villain crawled across the table, spilling the lemonade and knocking over their chair.

“Stop don’t go!”

“Sorry V, we’ll talk about your pinky promise later. Money calls!”

Hero shattered the already open window and leapt away. Leaving a small trail of glass shards that twinkled in the sun as they jumped from building to building.

Hero sat at their desk typing up plans for training courses for incoming sidekicks and heroes. Their left hand would get a few quick cramps or grow cold after typing for a while.

“I should’ve grabbed more muffins.”

They mumbled to themselves. A strong itch spawned deep in their pinky finger and when scratching didn’t work to soothe the burn, hero resorted to biting.

“You can come back and get more.”

Hero sat up and looked around only to see that nobody was slacking off. They wanted to know who spoke so they let out an audible,

“HUH?”

Their coworkers looked at them some just ignored them, and their desk neighbor who’s ears had just been assaulted gave a polite.

“Sorry what was that, Hero?”

Perhaps it was their imagination because all the other heroes went back to work a little bit more annoyed than they were moments ago.

“Oops, sorry Other Hero, I just have bad hiccups.”

Yee haw I’m here again after actual months. Thank you for the nice comments on the first one :] I’m thinking I may turn this into a comic instead, or maybe in addition to writing. I’m an artist first and a writer second so maybe the little story will grow faster with the power of illustrations.

Also, oh my! Look! I have a tag list:

@submarinekitten, @laurenhufflepuff2

And omg part one¡

[parcequecestnotreprojeeeet]

Hi, it’s me, Fanfic Anon #2. This piece is inspired by the “Famille Auziere-Macron” photo we were all talking about earlier this week. I’m not sure exactly when that was taken, so just go with me on this. Hope everyone has a good weekend!

“Chéri! I’m home!” Brigitte called out as she opened the door to their apartment, carrying her purse in one hand, and the mail in the other.

“Hi! I missed you today,” he met her at the door, wide smile on his face.

“What did you get up to on your day off?” she asked, dropping her stuff along with her keys on the table in the entry way, laughing gently as he helped her shrug out of her coat.

“Waited for you to get home,” he replied, slipping his arms around her waist and pulling her tightly to him, leaning in for a quick kiss.

“Charmer,” she blushed a little when he pulled back, moved by the intensity of his desirous stare. “I’m guessing you didn’t prepare dinner?”

He laughed loudly at that, “no! I value my head too much. I did call in an order for pick up in about half an hour, though.”

“The weather is about to take a nasty turn, chéri. I don’t want you to get messed up in that -“

“And I don’t want you to cook tonight,” he cut her off gently. “Chérie, you’re always so busy taking care of everyone else, let me take care of you.”

“Fine. But, I’ll be doing a very through check up to make sure you’ve warmed back up after dinner,” she teased, her index finger trailing slowly down his chest as she did so.

“You’ll hear no complaints about that on my end,” he smiled her. “Come on, let’s head inside the entry way. You’re going to get cold.”

“Wait! I want to grab the mail. I saw something from Sebastian.”

“Oh?” He asked intrigued, looking over her shoulder as she flipped through the envelopes.

“I think it’s a Christmas card,” she replied, turning over her shoulder as she ripped into the right one.

“Let me see!” He demanded as she slipped it out.

On the cover was a picture that had to have been taken during their family vacation over the summer with their whole family: them, all three of the kids, their partners, and all the grandkids, captioned simply “Famille Auziere-Macron.”

“Wow,” he breathed out quietly, stunned, moved beyond words at that. A family Christmas card, their family Christmas card with his name on it.

She opened the card and saw the message inside, “Wishing you all the joy of the season and the happiest of New Years. Love, the Auizere-Macrons” with all their names printed one after the other.

“Did you know about this?” He asked when he finally felt he had control enough over his emotions to speak.

“No, I had no clue,” she replied, equally moved by the gesture. She turned around to look at him, “but, that’s just putting to paper what’s been true for a very long time. Chéri, this is our family, your family.”

He nodded slowly at that, letting her words sink in. “You know, I don’t think I ever really thought I’d have this. I mean, I always knew that we’d have our kids, because they are and were always going to be mine. But, I guess given the complicated relationship I have with my own parents, I just didn’t think, I just didn’t expect -“

“Didn’t expect what?” Brigitte asked gently when he trailed off and remained silent for an extended period of time.

“Didn’t expect a family this close, a family full of this much love.”

“Oh, mon cœur -“

“I’m going to go call our kids and thank them. Then I’m going to grab our dinner,” he interrupted, needing to take a second and step back to get control over his emotions.

“Okay,” she smiled warmly, knowing he needed the moment. “Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”

And neither was the card. As they moved from their apartment to Bercy, from Bercy back to an apartment, and from their apartment to the Élysée, the card traveled with them, always in a place of prominence, proudly displaying their family.

Hellooo fanfic Anon #2! ❤️

Aawww this warmed my heart quite a lot 🤧🥰 Sébastian sending the Christmas family card was so adorable! And even more adorable was Emmanuel’s reaction to it 🥰

And now I’m just going to look at the photo again and sob in a corner hahaha

Thank you so much, fanfic Anon #2! ❤️❤️❤️

[canibecandid]

If you’re still doing breakup requests…

First thought: even though it’s been years and I now have a wonderful, happy loving healthy and wholesome relationship, back in first semester of freshman year of college I was dating this guy. Because this was my first relationship EVER I told him I loved him within a month of dating, right before Thanksgiving break. He nodded, took it well at the time, then we left for break. The night that I returned from break, he made me steak and crème brulée, wanting to show off that he, a junior, had a kitchen and knew how to cook. That night he told me he loved me.

Next night, we hung out again and he showed me the first episode of Game of Thrones because I mentioned that I had never watched it before. Shortly after, while talking about the episode he paused and said, “I don’t think I love you,” and later, “I don’t think I can ever love you.” It was awkward as hell as he drove me back to my dorm that night. Needless to say we broke up.

It’s funny, because even though I’ve since moved on, met the love of my life, graduated college and I’m about to move in with my love - who I’ve dated for years now…I’m still angry that the steak he made for me was so damn good and that I think I’ll never again have a steak and crème brulée like that again - that’s my one regret.

It was an amazing steak.

I am actually maybe the BEST person to ask this too.

As for your song, I picked “Comptine d’un autre été, l’aprés-midi” from the movie ‘Amélie’. This isn’t the song that plays when she eats the creme brûlée but it invokes a nostalgia for things you can’t have anymore.

For the steak you’re going to need

Room temperature butter

Fresh rosemary, removed from the stem and then bruised with your knife. You don’t need to chop it super fine and for this recipe you don’t need a lot of it either.

Two to Three garlic cloves, smashed open but left mostly whole.

Salt and Pepper

Steak, any cut of your choosing but I would recommend something with a decent fat displacement.

When thinking about the doneness of your steak, take the thickness into consideration. If you need your oven, turn it on.

Bring your steak out of the fridge to rest for 30 minutes at room temp before cooking.

While that’s happening, mix together 2 TBS of your softened butter with a bit of black pepper and your rosemary. DO NOT ADD ANY SALT AT THIS POINT.

When you’re ready to start on your steak, preheat your medium/large skillet on a low setting. You don’t want to start with a cold pan, just enough so when you turn the heat up later you’re not starting from zero.

Pat your steak SUPER dry. As dry as you can. Then season with salt and pepper only. It’s always going to be a little bit more salt than you think the first time around.

With your pan now turned up to a medium high heat, add in the butter and garlic. The minute the butter starts to sizzle, add in your steak and DO NOT MOVE IT. Take a spoon and baste the steak with the butter/garlic, waiting at least 3 minutes before flipping over.

Second side, same thing. If you want your steak cooked more to the ‘done’ end of things, extend your time and whack it into your oven.

Now here’s where I might lose you. When you’re not quite at your desired doneness, remove your steaks from the heat and wrap them with aluminum foil with a dollop of that rosemary butter on top.

You want to let the meat rest so that it goes from “tensed” cooking, to “relaxed” so the juices have gone back into the muscle as a whole. Let it hang out for about 5 minutes before serving. The residual heat will continue to cook your meat, so keep that in mind.

Hope that helps!

[lord-shitbox]

entire ask game. send me asks too or ill bite you really ahrd

assuming you said this for the 'weirder asks' game. godbless

who is/are your comfort character(s)?

Gozu and mezu

lighter or matches?

I like lighters more but i only have a matchbox (the striking paper on it is shit anyways)

do you leave the window open at night?

ye

which cryptyd being do you believe in?

none

what color are your eyes?

brown

why did you do that?

do wot

hair-ties or scrunchies?

Hair ties

how many water bottles are in your room right now?

None. 2 glasses and a mason jar though 

which do you prefer, hot coffee or cold coffee?

Cold. on ice

would you slaughter the rich?

Idc about killing them i just want their wealth redistributed

favorite extracurricular activity?

Fucking around at the grocery store en masse

what kind of day is it?

Did not do a single piece of schoolwork but i did every other possible task

when was the last time you ate?

Within the hour. Had a bowl of rice on my desk

do you love the smell of earth after it rains?

ya

are you a parent? (all answers qualify)

no

can you drive?

no

are you farsighted or nearsighted?

nearsighted

what hair products do you use?

none

imagine we’re at a sleepover, would you paint my nails?

If you want me to ya

do you say soda or pop?

soda

something you’ve kept since childhood?

A lot of things. Stuffed animals, jewelry

what type of person are you?

chilling

how do you feel about chilly weather?

👍 but i prefer mild temperatures. The kind of just-barely cold that isnt really cold. I don’t like wearing lots of clothes

if we were together on a rooftop, what would we be doing?

Depends on who you are. for u specifically, probly not much

perfume/body spray or lotion?

Mmmm…i dont own any body spray but i have mixed feelings about the texture of lotion. It’s not actually that bad but i don’t like putting wet stuff on me (same genre of sensory dislike as wearing lots of clothing)

a scenario that you’ve replayed multiple times?

Uh.. like daydream? There’s one i used to have but its really really edgy and embarrassing 

about how many hours of sleep did you get?

Last night, 12. On weekdays its like 6

do you wear a mask?

No sorry

how do you like your shower water?

warm

is there dishes in your room?

Yes leave me alone

what type of music keeps you grounded?

Heavy stuff. Like fast and hard noises. Nothing slow

do you have a favorite towel?

yeah

the last adventure you’ve been on?

Went 2 bowser movie wth an extended group of people last night and afterwards we walked to winco and did funny things in shopping carts

is there a song you know every word to by heart?

Tbh…no. Im really good at remembering song lyrics in general but i dont think there are any in particular i memorize

what’s your timezone?

Doxx me why don’t you

how many times have you changed your url?

Never <3

someone in your life, other than a relative, you’ve known for 10+ years?

Uhh.. not really? Am not in much contact with childhood close friends (theres one ive seen a few times recently but we haven’t actually talked). I believe i’ve known tuna for upcoming 8yrs though

a soap bar that smells good?

I dont like bar soap i like the liquid kinds. Old spice

do you use lip balm?

During dry lip season (i forget when this is) my lips get dry as fuck 

did you have any snacks today?

ye

how do you take your coffee?

With ice and chocolate in it

an app you frequently use besides this godforsaken site?

Discord & instagram 

what’s your take on spicy foods?

yum (reasonable spice tolerance)

you get a free pass to kill anyone, who is it?

Nobody…i hate some people 2 death (i dont think about them so i forget who they are) but theyre not bothering me rn so idc

can you remember what happened yesterday?

Bowser moive

favorite holiday film?

Year without a santa claus (IM MR FREEZE MISER)

what was the last message you sent?

“so far i think the only red text thats restricted to origin is mhin's”

when did you first try an alcohol beverage?

Idk ive had sips in young youth. Parents would give me some so i could go “wow this tastes nasty” and not crave any ever (they were right for this)

can you skip rocks?

I may have done it successfully like twice in my life

can i tag you in random stuff?

Ya sure

[christa--marie]

The Day Before The First Day

Aziraphale perched near the front of a crowded classroom, surrounded by his peers. Not a seat was open, and angels lined the circular stone walls. White drapes fluttered in the windows, overlooking a glorious mountainscape. There was no ceiling, only a gentle glow from above that suffused the room with peace and elegance. Aziraphale and his classmates wore matching robes of white and gold. Their wings rustled; harps strummed in the background.

“The Almighty is working on something new.” Gabriel stood tall and unflappable at the front of the room. “She has devoted all Her energies into it with a tireless, single-minded focus— for a whole half hour!” He allowed that to sink in. The angels murmured, hooked.

“This project, which we are calling the Great Experiment— my idea by the way— will take place between Heaven and Hell, on a wet spinny rock called Earth. The Almighty plans to give this rock to the favorite of her new Creations: humanity.”

“Why?” demanded one of Aziraphale’s classmates, a blunt-eyed knucklehead named Sandolphon.

Gabriel shrugged. “Who knows? Something to do with free will and the discovery of purpose through suffering and imperfect love.” He waved his hand. “But that’s not important, not to us. We are angels, and our divine purpose comes directly from above.”

Aziraphale glanced upward as a reflex. He’d had few run-ins with the Alpha and Omega personally, but he liked to imagine Heaven’s light emanated from Her wise and all-knowing heart. He shivered in awe.

“Our purpose is to keep the legions of Hell at bay,” Gabriel continued. The lines of his face hardened like stone. “Until the Great War, when we will shatter their defenses and grind their bones into dust.”

Aziraphale shifted uncomfortably at his desk. He’d only ever been in one war before, and he hadn’t liked it at all. He didn’t understand why Lucifer’s minions had to leave Heaven in the first place. Surely there was room enough for everyone, if they could just get along. God’s love was infinite, after all.

Sandolphon grinned. “I like war,” he said. “I think I’ll like a Great War even more. When will that be?”

Gabriel pointed at him. “Sandolphon, I love your enthusiasm, but interrupt me again and I’ll throw you off that balcony.” His face creased in a smile that did not at all undermine his threat. Sandolphon leaned back in his seat. “I don’t know when the Great War will be. No one does. I suppose we’ll get more clues along the way, like a scavenger hunt that goes on for all eternity. Fun, right?” He clapped his hands. “The point is, we have to be ready at all times to serve God’s ineffable plans.”

Aziraphale, who fancied himself a lover of words, repeated this one to himself. Rather less than twenty books had yet been written, and Aziraphale had read all of them at least twice, even The Maintenance Manual for Conscientious Harpists. He’d not heard or read this word before, though, and he didn’t know what it meant, but it sent a little thrill in his heart just the same. ‘Ineffable,’ he mouthed and wiggled, pleased.

Gabriel noticed his lexical rapture and paced between the rows to his desk. Aziraphale sat up straighter, surprised.

“Do you like that word, Aziraphale?” Gabriel tipped his head, lips curled upward in polite amusement.

Aziraphale nodded, wide-eyed.

“Do you know what it means?”

Aziraphale shook his head.

“It means God’s plans are not effable,” Gabriel explained magnanimously. Upon seeing this did not diminish Aziraphale’s confusion like he’d expected, he added with just a touch of asperity, “They cannot be spoken. They are too big for words.”

“Too big for words?” Aziraphale’s first instinct was dismay, but that was quickly swept aside by a crashing wave of wonder. He was bright enough to understand just how little he knew of the great beyond. “Oh my.”

“That’s right.” Gabriel nodded with approval. He said the word again, like he almost understood it.

“More fun news,” he continued, turning to the rest of the class. “One among you will be the first to serve God’s plans on Earth.”

The class tittered. Aziraphale glanced around, wondering who the lucky sod might be.

He looked up again and startled to find Gabriel still standing beside his desk, gazing down at him.

Aziraphale’s heart skipped. “Me?”

Gabriel’s smile was bland. “The Almighty asked for you by name.”

“But…” Aziraphale blinked, utterly confused. There must have been a mistake, some other Aziraphale the Almighty surely meant. “Why?”

“Better not to ask.” Gabriel flashed his teeth. “It’s ineffable.”

Crawly lounged at the back of a dilapidated classroom crowded with gray floors and filing cabinets. Fluorescent lights flickered from a low ceiling. His robe bunched at the knee when he kicked his legs up on the seatback in front of him, flashing black sandals that criss-crossed up his calves. The demon occupying his footrest flicked his head and growled, so Crawly poked him in the neck with a toe. The demon ground his teeth but leaned forward, giving Crawly more room to recline, which he did, indecently.

The classroom was even more claustrophobic than usual, buzzing with the ever-present anticipation of general destruction. Crawly’s fellow demons grunted amongst themselves and paid little attention to the figure standing at the front of the room.

Beelzebub spoke in a monotone, making no attempt to be compelling. Her eyes crossed as she swayed on her feet. Crawly lent half an ear— more than his classmates— and scribbled a quick note on a piece of parchment. He breathed on the drying ink, then folded the paper in half and waved it enticingly at the demon sitting next to him.

“Run this up to Hastur,” he said, just enough of a caress in his voice to keep it from an outright demand. The demon glared at him, suspicious, but took the note like Crawly knew she would and slithered two rows over and several desks up to drop it in Hastur’s lap.

The duke glared at the parchment then twisted around in his seat. Crawly waggled his eyebrows at him. He willed Hastur to take the bait and open the letter— have his wig snatched—

“Surveillance reports say the unbenevolent despot known as the Almighty is working on something new called Earth,” Beelzebub droned. “Where creations made in Her image will walk upon two feet with five toes each, and arms and legs, and all the rest.” A spitball whizzed past her head and landed with a splat on the dusty chalkboard. “She plans to test them with something unpleasant called free will. “

“God’s gotten bored of the angels, has She?” Crawly piped up from the back of the room, interest piqued. His voice cut through the drone. Conversations died out, and Crawly’s peers glanced from him to Beelzebub, taking notice that something if not iniquitous at least moderately irritating was about to happen.

“Can’t say I blame Her,” he drawled, glancing around hopefully for agreement. “Boring, uppity sods without an ounce of imagination between them, am I right?” His question hung in the air, unanswered.

Beelzebub blinked. “I’m talking,” she said, bemused. “Why are you also talking?”

Crawly swung his legs to the floor and unfurled himself from the desk. “Did you say free will?” His voice rose, intrigued. “What’s that?”

Beelzebub rolled her eyes, all of them, even the ones poking out from her kneecaps. She answered in her long-suffering monotone. “It’s space enough from God to choose their own actions, right or wrong, without interference.” At this, she scoffed. “So She says, anyway; we’ll see how long that lasts.”

Crawly’s mind raced. “Well, that’s...” A warm surge of curiosity fizzed in his chest. “...pretty neat.”

Beelzebub’s brow lifted with incredulity. She turned away from Crawly, clearly a lost cause. “The Almighty is sending an angel to watch over the humans and guide them toward righteousness.” Her mouth puckered on the word, and she retched just the slightest bit.

“Hang on,” Crawly interrupted again. “How’s that fair? I thought the point was for them to make their own decisions—”

“Since when has the Almighty acted with consistency?” Beelzebub said. Her eyes blazed briefly, but then she settled back and shrugged. “I suppose encompassing all of existence must get a bit confusing at times.” She lifted a hand to forestall any argument. “I’m not saying I agree with Her, I’m just saying She’s got a lot on her plate, that’s all.”

“But why should the angels have all the fun?” Crawly argued. “Shouldn’t we have some representation up there? Show the humans what a heinous transgression is all about?”

Beelzebub glared at him. “I was getting to that,” she snapped. “Satan, you are annoying.”

Crawly smirked, tossing his hair at the compliment.

“The gates to Earth are equally balanced between Heaven and Hell,” Beelzebub said. “Whatever powers they send, we may send an equal and opposing force, to tempt the humans toward vice and corruption, etcetera etcetera. That way the experiment can remain—” she twirled her hands— “nonpartisan.”

Crawly shrugged. Seemed to him it would make more sense for everyone to stay out of it. He wisely kept this observation to himself.

“So we are sending a demon to Earth to oppose their angel, and more when we get wind of Heaven sending more. As for the first demon to go—” She looked at Crawly, who’s heart began to flutter in spite of himself. “Crawly, you’ve been by far the most irritating demon here today, so I’m sending you.” She glanced around at his classmates, unimpressed. “Really, it’s like the rest of you aren’t even trying.”

“Me?” Crawly blinked, dazed. “Go to Earth? Leave Hell?”

A shriek drew their attention. Hastur leapt from his chair, swatting frantically at the top of his head, which had abruptly caught on fire. Flames licked away his tangled mop-head hair, while Crawly’s note floated innocently to the floor and disintegrated. Crawly glanced at him, then back at Beelzebub, too gobsmacked to appreciate his own prank.

Beelzebub strode forward and clasped his hand in hers. “Don’t thank me,” she said. “You’ve earned it. Now, get up there and make some trouble.”

Stonehenge - 3100 B.C.

Aziraphale stood on a misty moor and watched the humans lug another mammoth stone into place. The current generation used ropes, levers and no small amount of cleverness to manipulate mass far greater than they could hope with only their own strength. Aziraphale watched them with pride. What an exciting time to be on Earth! He sent his thanks to the Almighty for allowing him to witness it.

“What do you suppose the circles mean?” a voice inquired in his ear. “Reckon they even know?”

Aziraphale startled. The demon Crawly slithered from the mist to stand beside him, squinting at the humans.

“Oh. Hello,” Aziraphale said with a small tilt of the head, alight with suspicion but determined to be courteous. The demon turned his slit-eyed gaze upon him. “My, we do seem to cross paths. And how have you been? Still, ah, compelled to acts of base villainy?”

Crawly flashed his incisors. “The basest.”

Aziraphale sighed, his disappointment sincere. “We are all bound to our functions. And what sort of villainy are you instigating here?” he asked, hardly expecting a straightforward answer.

The demon’s features twisted with bemusement. “Tried to convince them this was an alien landing pad,” he said, flicking a hand as the humans hauled another slab across the moor. “But they just keep using it to honor their dead.”

“Alien landing pad?” Aziraphale scoffed. “That’s ridiculous.”

Crawly glanced at him. “It’s a big universe, angel,” he said. “Awfully short-sighted of you to think Earth is the only planet with a bit of life going on.”

“But we know it is,” Aziraphale argued. “Surely Heaven would know if the Almighty was running multiple experiments.”

Crawly shrugged. “Don’t you ever wonder…”

“What?” Aziraphale asked when he trailed off, intrigued despite himself. He often found himself like this, hanging to the demon’s every word. He supposed it was a trick he’d mastered to catch the humans’ attention while tempting them toward vice and corruption. It was just that Crawly’s conversation was so much more interesting than that of his fellow angels. They talked about the humans, mostly, but also placed they’d visited, agriculture, the fermentation of grapes, and stars. It was a far cry from his typical conversation with the other angels, who mostly liked to talk about smiting and their blasted harps.

The demon elected not to finish his question. “What are you doing in this part of the world, anyway?” he asked instead. “I thought you were watching over Enoch the sourpuss.”

“Ah, yes.” He grimaced a smile. “Enoch has seen fit to continue his ministry without, uhm, day-to-day celestial oversight.”

“Hm.” Crawly’s lips twitched. “So, here for pleasure, then?”

Aziraphale bristled. “Certainly not!” He fussed at the neck of his perfectly creased robes. “I am here on very important business in pursuit of the salvation and betterment of humanity— not that you would know anything about that.”

Crawly shuddered in disgust. “I’d rather be cooked in spider stew than know anything about that.” He picked at his chin. “Sympathetic creatures, spiders.”

Aziraphale took a deep, calming breath of the fresh country air. “I like this place,” he declared. “I’ve been here once before, after that dreadful business with Adam’s sons.” His face fell, but then his eyes softened, roaming over the rolling green hills and bluebird sky. “I was called over to direct a bit of glacial melt— ended up creating the English Channel, if you’d believe it— and found the whole experience quite reviving. I think I’d like to settle down here sometime before it’s all over.”

“Before what’s all over?” Crawly said.

Aziraphale’s lips pursed. “Well— all this.” He gestured helpfully at the landscape. “The Earth has to end someday,” he said, like it was common knowledge.

“It does?” Crawly asked. Aziraphale tipped back on his feet and nodded, musing.

“I imagine once the Almighty has finished Her experiment with the humans and decided whether they’re good or bad, She’ll want to dispense with Earth; tidy up her laboratory, as it were.”

“So God created Earth just to destroy it in the end?” Crawly clarified.

Aziraphale stiffened. He liked Crawly’s inquisitive nature, even if he did rather put him on the spot with his questions.

“Of course, one can’t know for sure,” he said with a touch of haughtiness. “God’s plans are ineffable, after all.”

Crawly regarded him with strange yellow eyes. “You really like that word, don’t you?”

Aziraphale picked at his fingernails, ignoring him.

“How can an ineffable plan have an end, anyway? Isn’t saying that it has an end saying something about it, which can’t be done because it’s too big for words?” He tilted his head and repeated it, mocking. “Ineffable.”

“Don’t worry,” Aziraphale reassured him. “Even if the plan does have an end, it’s going to be quite a long time from now.”

Finish reading on AO3.

[gay-dorito-dust]

⚠️A little drabble with slight Season 2 spoilers for AIB. ⚠️ this was shit.

“You had every opportunity to be rid of me and yet here I still breath, has my usefulness to you not ran out yet after all this time? Had there not been a time where you could’ve easily disposed of me?” You asked Chishiya as you dragged your bleeding form -curtesy of the king of spades- to mark your final resting place beside him, back pressed up against the car; too tired to accompany Arisu and Usagi to the final game but your faith in them was unwavering. They’ve came this far so it stood to reason that they could put an end to all this. You’ve all lost too much to meet your end here; despite how tragic that sounded, it was a befitting end. To die at the end of the game.

Freedom is almost within reach now and all you could do was reminisce on your time in the Borderlands as time etched away slower then usual. For you the more notable moments took place at The Beach; the once warm safe haven that turned into a nightmarish hellscape right to the very end as it burned down in a blaze of fierce flames. You met Chishiya and Kuina there during a period of your life where you’ve seen one too many of your friends die during the games; Even gotten betrayed by one or two during the more morally tolling ones, which forced your hand into killing them so that you may survive in their stead.

So your willingness to befriend or ally yourself with someone else were slim to none. At the time you didn’t care if you lived when participating in the games, so much so that it made you more reckless and daring during them. Which in retrospect was the dumbest shit you’ve ever done; thinking that the consequences don’t extend to you after your dead because they do and the games like to remind every participant of that. So when you did meet Chishiya and Kuina, you knew what they’re game was almost immediately.

They weren’t here to make friends and neither were you, which was why when one day they did approach you that you were immediately on high alert, hand reaching for the knife that you kept after removing it from the cold hand of a dead man you came across before reaching the massive mansion of party goers. They extended their hand in ‘friendship’ but you shut it down as you stared at them dead in the eyes and told them, “don’t think I don’t know what game your playing at because I ain’t willing in becoming an meat shield for either of you to hide behind when things get too rough. Find some other gullible bastard and quit bothering me.” Before leaving the pair in the hallway as you went to prepare for another game.

Another memory you remember so fondly was when after you had gotten hurt from a game, instead of going back to the cars that would lead you back to The Beach, you slunk your way into an alleyway to die, your position was very much the same as the one you were in currently, back pressed against the brick wall and waiting death to take you far away from this desolate hellhole. Just when you had closed your eyes in acceptance, a voice called out to you and it wasn’t belonging to an angel; It was Chishiya. “What’re you doing?” He asked, however you knew that he could care less for the reason, he just wanted to get a reaction out of you for his own entertainment.

“Waiting to die so I can be as far away from you as possible.” You replied, not bothering to opening your eyes to him.

“That’s a little dramatic don’t you think?” He responds, leaning against the wall as his eyes examine the wounds you received as his brows furrowed but not out of worry.

“Doesn’t matter, all that does is the fact that soon I’ll be free from all this pain and will never have to participate in another game as I cross over into the afterlife.” You stood to your reasoning with steadfast loyalty.

“Dramatic and selfish,” Chishiya said as he ventured forth into the alleyway and knelt so that he was in front of you, getting a better look at your injuries. He didn’t have the best view from where he was standing previously and decided that closer examination was needed. So he kept the conversation going without easing any suspicion within you as you ‘awaited death’ as you so kindly put it. “Your wounds aren’t that severe, they’re deep but the only everlasting thing they’ve leave is a scar at most.” He deduced as you opened your eyes to glare at him. “Now get up before the cars leave us behind and we’re presumed dead.” Chishiya then stood up, offered out his hand for you to take.

You begrudgingly took his hand as he then hauled you off of the floor and began to help you hobble back to the cars that took you back to The Beach, where Kuina was waiting in the lobby for him and subsequently you as she took you off of his hands and aided in getting you to Ann for medical attention. Luckily the additional days added to your visa allowed you to make a full recovery for the next game.

The rest were blurred chaos of varying degrees and the only face that you could clearly make out of that mess was Chishiya’s and his voice, cool under pressure, guiding you to clearing your hectic mind and silence the unnecessary noise that would’ve inevitably have you killed. Even when you weren’t accompanying him in certain games, his presence was with always with you that soon before you allowed yourself to be swept away with everyone else and their growing anxieties, you would clear away their screeching voices and allow yourself to let the answer come to you rather then hopelessly chase it.

“You’re right, I did have opportune moments where I could be rid of you in order to save myself but for some reason, I just let them keep slipping through my fingers. Every time. At first I was wondering if I had let this place force me into a moment of weakness. I was left perplexed and questioning everything when all but soon enough I found my answer.” Chishiya said calmly for a guy who had just gotten shot. Twice. “What was it?” You asked him, awaiting him to finish the sentence on baited breath. “I got attached.” He finally answered glancing over to gauge your reaction like he always did. Which was a habit of his that you’ve only began to take notice as of just recently. He never did once glance at anyone else other then you when he wanted to know how his words affected someone.

Chishiya knew how he made people feel but for some reason he put more effort into knowing how you felt about his words, his actions, everything. It was weird, he even did this back at the beach but when you asked Kuina about this, her answer didn’t make any sense to you. “He’s grown attached to you.” She said but you could only scoff at such ridiculousness, “he only cares about what I came give him. Face it Kuina, Chishiya would rather throw me under the bus then ever admit it to my face that he’s attached.”

You stared at him as though he had grown a second head all the while he rested his head on your shoulder, “what’re your plans after we get out of here?” He changed the subjected, already knowing how you felt about him, he always knew and deep down he believed that you did too and that’s why you didn’t say anything in response. “I don’t know, I’ve worn myself down by just trying to survive and outlive others that I haven’t given it all that much thought.” You admitted to him in a moment of vulnerability, “but I wouldn’t mind it if we went through the unknown together.” You added, resting your head on top of Chishiya’s.

“Is that so?” He asks with a slight air to his tone as though he found all this funny but his hand reached for your own, you tensed at how cold you’ve both become in such a short amount of time that you were starting to actually face your own mortality. It was scary but for Chishiya; you’d brave anything. “Only if you want to of course, wouldn’t want to deter the great Chishiya Shuntaro from better things.” You added as to make light of your situation but faulted when you felt him starting to weigh heavily against your side. “Chishiya?” You said softly. “That sounds nice,” he finally spoke after a moment of silence but his voice was a lot quieter then before, “see you on the other side.” He added as the blimp belonging to the Queen of Hearts finally came down in the form of fiery rain before everything became black.

You awoke in a hospital with no memory of how you got here. Lost and afraid you almost called out in a state of panic when is voice, cool and collected, reached out to you. Silencing the unnecessary noise within. “Your finally awake.”