#(or. would be if i wasn't also terribly fatigued..)

[concerningwolves]

I love that writing feeling where a story starts going in a very different direction than the one you initially intended, but somehow this new direction actually achieves your desired goals way better than the original plan would have done.

[ikeuverse]

YOU'RE MY PROBLEM — l.heeseung

PAIRING: heeseung x fem!reader  GENRES: angst, fluff, humor, suggestive  WC: 11.6k+

WARNINGS: swearing, arguing, cheating, divorce, mention of drinking. slightly smut in that there is a section (albeit brief) describing almost – very almost – sex.

SYNOPSIS: for some people, it was a problem working as a nanny because of the fatigue and effort it required. but you loved looking after hajun. the only problem was his older brother, heeseung.

NOTES: idk what's going on, but heeseung's been on my mind a lot these days. 2nd plot in less than two weeks and he's the owner of everything! at first this was going to have a smut, but i felt it would be too long and idk if it turned out that well, so maybe it could happen in a second part that isn't even final. but that's it for now, i hope you like it!

masterlist

"What's your problem?" that intonation was already typical when directed at you, but it still never failed to send a chill down your spine.

Sighing, you got up from the living room floor and smiled at the little boy in front of you, trying not to focus your gaze on the man next to the sofa.

"Can't you do your job properly for once?" he said to you again as he followed you into the downstairs bathroom, and you tried to ignore him as much as possible to put the first aid kit away in the drawer and leave the room. But he blocked the door.

"Can you come out, please? I want to go through" you asked, looking at him for the first time.

"I asked you what your fucking problem is" he leaned over and gritted his teeth, now he could cuss since he wasn't next to his younger brother.

"And I asked you to leave" you leaned in too, almost touching the tip of your nose to his chin because of the height difference. This caught the man completely off guard and he took a few steps back, clearing the way for you to leave the bathroom and walk into the living room.

It wasn't a horrible accident, you weren't a terrible babysitter for nine-year-old Hajun. But his older brother, Heeseung, had been a pain in the ass ever since you first set foot in the Lee house.

And it wasn't as if you'd done anything because Mrs. Lee always praised your work highly and you even did a few extra periods just to play with Hajun or stay with him when there were family problems. These, more often than not, were your suspicions as to why the Lee family had hired a nanny for their youngest, and also why Heeseung seemed so down on life. Especially with you.

It was typical for him to make some sarcastic comment, and roll his eyes when you excitedly answered something his mother had asked. Or even mutter a swear word when Hajun chooses to go out with you instead of his own brother. Jealous? Or that intensified the anger Heeseung felt even more, you just didn't want it to be directed completely at you. In your mind, Heeseung was already like that because of something that happened in the family – and you'd always been curious to ask, you just didn't have the courage – so, because you were the only person who was easy to get along with apart from his mother and younger brother, the boy only had you to put it all out there.

You weren't such a bad listener, you could call Heeseung to sit down after your babysitting shift and tell him everything that was bothering you. Why he was so angry and, most importantly, why did he seem to hate you? Your memory tried to capture a moment when you could have given him a curt reply, a grimace or simply been rude, but no.

As soon as you arrived and introduced yourself as Hajun's new nanny, Heeseung just rolled his eyes and left the room.

"Don't worry about him, Y/n" Mrs. Lee smiled lovingly at you "Heeseung is going through a difficult process, I think he'll get better soon. He's sweet."

You hoped he would be. And you waited for months to see that Heeseung was still the same... Maybe his process would take forever and you would have been chosen to be his punching bag. 

But one day it would get tiresome. Surely you knew that you would respond in full, even if you were afraid of losing your job because he might be able to get his mother's head around firing you. 

Back in the living room, you smiled at Hajun when you saw the little boy smile at you too. Your gaze completely ignored Heeseung sitting in the armchair next to his brother.

"Come on Y/n, I was telling Seungie how I fell in the park earlier" the little boy had no idea what had happened minutes ago between you and Heeseung, and you preferred it that way. Your priority was always to protect Hajun and be with him.

You sat down next to him, feeling Hajun's small hands wrap around yours.

"So I went to play ball with some boys, but Y/n told me not to go barefoot because it could be dangerous for me" Hajun formed a pout on his lips as he looked away from Heeseung to his bruised knee, now completely clean and bandaged "And I didn't listen" Hajun looked at you now, showing his newly grown teeth "Do you forgive me, Y/n?"

"Oh, of course" you hugged him as he laid his head on your shoulder.

Heeseung huffed from the other side of the sofa, running his hand through his hair impatiently.

"Anyway, do your job properly next time" he got up and left the room, leaving you with Hajun as he climbed the stairs with his feet tapping.

You felt the younger man move beside you, looking into your eyes while still smiling. Hajun was an amazing child and you felt your heart sink every time you thought that, if it wasn't for you, he might be alone in this house.

Not completely alone, Heeseung worked in his room a few days a week and Hajun could ask his brother for help with anything, as he was extremely protective of the youngest. But if it wasn't for you, the little one wouldn't do his homework. He couldn't go out to the park in the next block, let alone go to the movies in the late afternoon because he was too bored to do anything indoors.

Thanks to you, Hajun had company every day. And that was the thought you had when Mrs. Lee hired you to keep him company.

"Ignore him" Hajun's voice brought you out of your thoughts and back to the reality you were in at that very moment. The little boy was already standing in the middle of the room "Heeseung is a pain in the ass when he wants to be."

"Hey, watch your mouth, young man" you laughed when he grimaced.

"Seriously, after—" Hajun sighed, looking at you "Never mind."

"You know you can tell me whenever you want, right?" you stood up too, walking over to him to ruffle the younger man's dark hair.

Hajun nodded, smiling at you and asking you to make him a brownie. Because he deserved it and he was hurting. This made you laugh because, although the mood changed drastically in that house, you knew that he always tried to take everything in good humor. 

Hajun's slip in the previous few minutes only made you even more certain that something was going on, and your heart squeezed to see that he was aware of the problems within his own house even at his young age. So, more than ever, your determination to take care of him spoke louder. Because Hajun was your priority in that house. And that would always be the case.

With your head in your hands, you felt like screaming as you stared at the computer in front of you. Life as a university student was complete shit, even more so when you were forced to start a project and didn't even know where to begin.

Your two best friends were sitting right in front of you with their projects very well developed, but it was as if only your head was short-circuiting because nothing was good enough.

"You're going to tear your hair out soon" Jake leaned over the table to pull one of your hands away from your face, taking his attention away from his project.

"Can I rip my head off?" you almost cried as you looked at him, both of you looking away to Ryunjin sitting next to you.

"Why are you like this?" she asked.

"Is it because of the project?" Jake was already sitting properly in his seat, his eyes still on you and Ryunjin too. You nodded in agreement, swallowing dryly when the girl sighed.

"Or is it for someone else?" Ryunjin emphasized the question when she looked at you.

The table was now a little chaotic with Ryunjin peeking out with a smile on her lips, you trying to wiggle out of it and Jake looking between the two friends like a lost puppy.

"What the fuck is going on? Because I think I've lost something" the boy finally said.

"Heeseung, again" Ryunjin answered for you "He's still being an asshole to Y/n. Hasn't your little friend said anything worthwhile to let us know what happened?"

Jake opened and closed his mouth to answer but to no avail. He was a friend of Heeseung's, fortunately, or unfortunately, the boy went to the same university as you. Being Jake's friend, he once let slip that his mother was looking for someone to look after Hajun. And since you needed money... you could just combine the useful with the pleasant.

But your friend seemed to be as lost as you were, or at least he pretended very well. As one of Heeseung's best friends, it would be difficult for him to tell you if something was going on that could involve you. But he was also your best friend. This standoff with Jake could leave you confused and feeling bad on both sides, which is why you never pressured him to tell you anything.

"He's just having some problems" Jake tried to be vague on the subject.

"He's the problem, Jake" you closed your computer, giving up on working on a project you knew would come to nothing. Your head was full – unfortunately of annoyance about Heeseung – and nothing could make you concentrate on the moment "He was really rude to me last time, you know?"

He knew.

He listened to Heeseung swear for ten minutes about how you could let Hajun get hurt. Then he let his friend cool off and tried to argue that it wasn't your fault. Heeseung understood and even pondered whether he had been too hard on you.

"I... No, what did he do?" Jake nibbled his lower lip to suppress a sigh as he began to listen to everything he had to say.

From his perspective it wasn't your fault, Heeseung was too hard on you and anything you did. Sometimes Jake felt like telling you everything, telling you how many times he'd lost count by cursing Heeseung for his behavior. Or wanting to punch him just because his friend took out his frustrations on the wrong things.

"You need to talk to him to stop being like that with Y/n" Ryunjin caught Jake's eye, making him look at her "Or I'll shove some architectural material up his ass. Name one."

"A piece of concrete?" Jake frowned. He had no idea which materials were architectural, Heeseung did that course, not him. Jake was a computer scientist, just like Ryunjin.

She smiled with satisfaction at the answer and then looked at you.

"Now don't think about him and focus on your project, my love" Ryunjin reached out to touch your hand gently "I bet your designers are going to be amazing."

"We can't wait to see it" Jake also celebrated, taking your other hand and running his thumb over the back of it in affectionate contact.

Even with all the stuff going on in your life, the daily stress of dealing with the older brother of the little boy you were looking after, being in the presence of your friends seemed to cure everything and then some. Even though Jake was Heeseung's friend, that didn't change the way your friend treated you or how much he wanted to see you well. 

Ever since these disagreements between you and Heeseung started happening, Jake made it clear to both parties that he didn't want to be a part of it. Ryunjin even complained once that she would be part of it and still defend you, but no one listened – thankfully. 

After some time exchanging glances with your friends and smiling, you decided to focus on your project because, even if time was in your favor and the deadline was a month away, being prepared and ahead of schedule was your motto.

Taking advantage of a few vacant classes at college was perfect for going to a remote table on campus and working on whatever it was. These get-togethers with your friends were what got you out of stressful and bad times, even if you saw them on some weekends or in some classes. Just sitting there, chatting away regardless of the subject, made you feel a little better.

"Jake, dude, I finally found you" the voice took you away from your more peaceful thoughts and gratitude for your friends to focus forward. The boy whose name had been called stared after you with soft eyes, but as soon as he noticed your gaze on him, Jake's eyes widened slightly "Are you studying?"

Heeseung's voice was unmistakable to you. And at that moment you wanted to dig a hole and hide, or run out of there just so you wouldn't have the pleasure of bumping into the boy at his study table.

"Tidying up projects" Jake hissed, squeezing Ryunjin's leg under the table when he felt his friend move in her place. Her gaze was locked on Heeseung so angrily, yet the boy didn't notice, too distressed to find Jake.

"Can I join you here?" he asked "I need to finish some university homework and then we need to meet Jay for a game of basketball."

"Sure" Jake gave a small smile and beckoned Heeseung to sit down.

No. Not. Jake and Ryunjin were sitting next to each other, so the only vacant seat was right next to you.

Heeseung sat down without looking in their direction. He smiled at Ryunjin as a silent greeting, but she took it in her stride and ended up nodding at him politely after looking at you at the same moment Heeseung did.

The boy's eyes could come out of their orbs if it were possible, the way he opened them. Fidgeting uncomfortably on the bench next to you, he was in a bit of shock, even looking a little vulnerable given the circumstances that Heeseung always looked fierce when he was around you at his house.

"Y/n?" he asked, afraid that you were real.

"Hey" you said quietly.

He didn't know what to say, how could he forget that Jake was always with you on campus if you weren't with him? Why didn't Heeseung check out the people at that table before he sat down?

There were so many questions circling his mind that, as the boy saw you ignore him to open the computer and focus on your study, maybe he should do the same.

Focusing on his university homework while he waited for Jake to finish his project and then meet his other friends was what he had to do. All Heeseung had to do was answer a few questions that the teacher had given him in class and hope that his friend would finish as quickly as possible.

"Heeseung" Ryunjin called out after a while, her gaze flicking between him and you. You both looked very uncomfortable next to each other and it was so clear. Even more so after he arrived and didn't greet you properly, it wouldn't go unnoticed by your best friend.

"Hey, Ryunjin" he tried to smile amiably, almost feeling a shiver run down his spine when she leaned over the table, resting her elbows on the stone. She smiled strangely; he had seen it before when the girl was sarcastic or about to fight with someone. Was she going to fight with him?

"Is there concrete in your course building?" she asked.

Heeseung frowned in complete confusion. That question had no basis in fact, but at least she wasn't angry with him, so he could relax a little and not feel any more chills as the girl still stared at him.

"We have several, will you need them?"

"Yes" she said.

"Sure, but what for?" when Heeseung asked and Ryunjin was about to answer, you quickly closed your computer. Praying that everything was intact even with the small bang.

This startled the three at the table – even you – so you got up and grabbed your backpack.

"I remembered that I need to go with Ryunjin to the library, now" your emphasis was a complete answer to the fact that your friend would have to follow you. Jake was grateful that she obeyed, even if it was against her will, putting her things away as she picked up the backpack to leave.

"Why did she want concrete?" Heeseung looked at Jake after you and Ryunjin left, laughing quietly and focusing on the questions he needed to answer, missing his friend's gaze, which was a little shocked.

"I have no idea" Jake lied.

Or omitted, exactly. Heeseung didn't need to know the intentions of the girl who had ranted at him minutes before he arrived at the table.

Of all the things Heeseung wanted to put out of his mind, one was to know exactly where to find the person who had hurt him the most. Who broke up the perfect family he thought he had.

Heeseung wanted to be able not to remember the bar his father frequented, but here he was. Across the street watching the large glass windows, and inside the establishment, people were drinking and celebrating something.

He was drinking too. He was already on his third bottle and brought the glass up to his lips to finish off the bitter liquid which, at this point, no longer had any effect. Heeseung was focused on the male figure who was laughing and raising his glass of alcohol to talk to some other men. So this was how his father looked every Thursday night before going home. That's how Heeseung followed him one night, tired of seeing his father come home late only to catch him drinking in that damn bar, with a woman sitting on his lap who must have been Heeseung's age.

His father didn't see him he didn't want to cause a fuss and make his mother even more worried because, frankly, Heeseung was on the other side of town and late at night. But he couldn't hide it when he got home and told his mother. She was an amazing woman and didn't deserve the kind of thing that was happening right behind his back and that of the whole family.

Heeseung didn't know that he could feel as strongly repulsed by someone as he did by the man who, at that moment, staggered out of the bar with another woman hanging around his neck.

He felt nauseous, wanting to throw up the beers he had bought while his eyes stung and blurred. But the figure of the man on the other side who was dialing something on his cell phone was clear, waiting for the app car together with another woman. She was different from the woman Heeseung first caught him with, so his father was with a different one every time. That was even more disgusting.

"Let's go to my apartment, baby" he laughed out loud as soon as the car arrived, letting the woman get in first and him follow behind. Leaving Heeseung's sight as the car pulled away.

"Fucker" Heeseung kicked the glass bottle against the sidewalk to break it instantly.

The tears were already rolling freely down his face and he didn't care that he was crying, he'd held it in for so long since the last two days. He stayed in his room so that he could cry in peace without his mother or Hajun noticing. He didn't want to worry them because he was now the oldest male figure there. While his mother worked all the time at the company, Heeseung needed to be there for Hajun even if you were with him. 

His thoughts were soon interrupted by the sound of Heeseung's cell phone, startling him briefly as he picked it up to see who was calling. His mother. 

Involuntarily, a sad smile formed amidst the tears and he didn't think twice about answering the call.

"Hi son, where are you?" she asked on the other end of the line.

"I came for a walk" he struggled to keep his voice from sounding so sad and tearful, clearing his throat as he sniffled "Is everything all right? Do you need anything?"

"Everything's fine, don't worry" she laughed, making Heeseung laugh too. That laugh that he missed, knowing that it was slowly coming back "It's just that a great opportunity has arisen to close a deal with another partner in the company and I'm going to have to travel to the neighboring city for a week."

"And Hajun?" he asked.

"I've just spoken to Y/n, she's going to sleep at home" his mother just passed on the information, showing that the decision had already been made. And even if it wasn't, Heeseung couldn't do much since he knew that his younger brother needed the nanny's care. He couldn't be available to look after Hajun.

"All right" he said afterward, "I'm coming home."

"Okay, my son. Come back carefully, okay?" she seemed to be smiling as she spoke, which warmed Heeseung's heart "Be a good boy with the two of them at home, please."

"I will" he replied "Bye mom, I love you."

"I love you more, my boy" and saying that, she hung up.

Heeseung felt less bad about his mother's call, but he still couldn't forget the scene he had seen a few minutes ago. He knew that his mother was moving on and accepting the divorce as best she could, but Heeseung couldn't forgive the betrayal. The way his father had acted in the face of everything. He hadn't spoken to the man since he found out, choosing to ignore his calls and messages and telling his mother not to go to the university. Heeseung didn't want to see him. He'd rather pretend he'd never met or lived with a lying father than have to say anything to the man.

Maybe he needed to go home like he said he would. His head was already beginning to buzz with disparaging and angry thoughts, which he wanted to get rid of quickly. 

A hot bath and a video game were all Heeseung needed at the moment to feel cleansed of everything he had witnessed that day. Not that it had been much, but he hadn't come home from university. He hadn't arrived at the same time as Hajun from school so that he could have lunch with him. Heeseung wandered around every familiar corner until he stopped at an app car and went straight to that damn bar. Now it was time to get another app car and go home.

Heeseung felt angry with himself for letting anger take over every fiber of his body, while he could do the same as his mother. Or even Hajun, who was already asking less about the man daily. Perhaps the younger brother wouldn't even remember his father if he wasn't mentioned, and the elder wanted it that way. He wanted his brother not to have the proximity he had to see how disgusting and untruthful the man who once lived with them was.

"Thank you" Heeseung thanked the driver as soon as he pulled up in front of his house, getting out of the car and waving quickly.

He took slow steps to the front door to see that everything was dark, you had probably already put Hajun to bed and that would be a relief. The two of you would be asleep and you wouldn't see the deplorable state that Heeseung had arrived home in.

In as much silence as he could manage, he unlocked the door and opened it, then locked it and looked around. Absolute silence inside the house. It brought Heeseung a little peace to think that the motherfucker he had seen earlier would never set foot in his house again.

He took off his shoes and the jacket he was wearing, throwing the garment on the sofa and feeling his body begin to tire. His throat was dry from the beers and from crying, his eyes would surely swell up because of it and Heeseung always forgot that fact. It was a pain. So maybe a little water would at least save his throat; he'd deal with his morning appearance later.

Heeseung walked to the kitchen only to feel a scream escape his mouth as the fridge door slammed shut. 

"Fuck" he put his hand over his chest as he looked at your equally frightened figure. You had also let out a little scream, but he only heard his own because his ears were ringing "Why is everything out?" he asked when he saw you moving away from the fridge.

"I thought you'd already arrived, I didn't want to disturb you" you held up the bottle of juice, probably something you'd drink while you were there until you fell asleep.

Heeseung just nodded and walked over to the light switch, squeezing his eyes shut along with you when the brightness hit. It didn't take long to get used to it before he looked at you, swallowing dryly as you looked back at him.

"Is everything okay?" you asked. Heeseung was going to ask why but forgot that his eyes and the tip of his nose were probably red because he had been crying.

Shit. Continuing with the light off could have been better.

"I don't want to talk about it" he replied immediately, his nervous tone returning as Heeseung looked away from you.

"Heeseung—"

"You're here to look after Hajun, right?" turning to look at you, Heeseung felt his eyes misting up again. He didn't know why he felt like crying while standing in front of you, one of the only people he didn't want to show himself vulnerable to apart from his younger brother and his mother "So why don't you do your job, and stop asking questions?"

For a split second, Heeseung saw your shoulders slump, the bottle of juice resting on the sink and your lips parting to say something. He blinked a few times to keep the tears from falling.

"What's your problem?" you finally said to him, your chest aching and your heart beating fast from nervousness "I have no idea what's happened to you" with each word, you took a tiny step towards him because Heeseung was blocking the passage from the kitchen worktop to the main door to leave the room. You had no choice but to approach him "But don't take your frustrations out on me!" you wanted to shout the last sentence, but out of respect for Hajun and for him being asleep, all you did was poke his chest a little harder. Pushing your index finger in there.

Heeseung closed his eyes as he felt your finger pushing him, but before you could push him away, he grabbed your hand. 

Your eyes widened at him because that was the first touch the two of you had shared since you started working at the Lee family home. His fingers were warm against your wrist and you wanted to struggle to get out of his grip, but without a doubt, Heeseung was stronger and faster. Pulling your body against his and wrapping his other arm around your waist.

It would be foolish to ask what or why, and even more foolish to try to get out of there because with every reluctant movement you made, he pulled your body even tighter against him. He tilted his face towards you, lowering it enough to touch his forehead to yours, and you took the opportunity to lean in and meet his lips halfway. 

The touch of Heeseung's lips was soft, his tongue pressing against your bottom lip was electrifying and when he wrapped the muscle around yours, you could taste the lingering taste of beer in his mouth. It wasn't as if you'd never drunk before, but feeling the alcohol in someone else's mouth, Heeseung's had made your whole body shiver.

He pulled your body closer until his big hands and firm fingers pressed your waist to your butt. Giving small touches to your thigh, he wanted to signal you to jump into his lap, and without disobeying you did so, already knowing that your butt would be in contact with the cold marble countertop in the kitchen. 

Your legs wrapped around Heeseung's waist and body to pull him closer while you lost yourself in his lips. It would be a lie to say that he didn't notice every detail of your face, and you would also be a hypocrite to say that you didn't look at him a little more closely when he wasn't looking at you. But feeling the softness of those lips that were always frowning in your direction was wonderful.

Heeseung lowered his lips to your chin and kissed down to your jaw, then down to your neck, and like a damn pro, he hit exactly the spot that made your whole body shudder. Your reaction couldn't have been different, letting out a sly moan and clamping your legs even tighter around him. When Heeseung's body tightened between your legs, he instinctively moved his hips towards your, thrusting his hips to give your better friction between his legs. 

Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging at each strand while your mouth worked wonders on his skin down to his collarbone. 

He moved his hips again, this time you could feel Heeseung's semi-hard cock pressing against your pajama-clad pussy. Moaning once more, you tugged on his hair as he lifted his head to kiss you again.

It was breathtaking how he felt between your legs, taken by your lips and touching your body with his fingertips. Your waist was perfect, fitting exactly between his palms as he pressed you even tighter against him. It was Heeseung's turn to moan against your lips when you planted your feet on his lower back to press Heeseung's hips even tighter against yours, nibbling on his lower lip to catch your breath.

"Y/n" he moaned your name and you almost whimpered and asked him to rip off all your clothes and fuck you right there. Heeseung would do it for sure, you wouldn't even think of denying it because of the way he was squeezing every curve of your body and chasing his lips to kiss you again.

If it hadn't been for the incessant crying upstairs. The two of you separated for a few seconds to see if you had heard the same thing. Heeseung's eyes traveled to yours and then to the kitchen door, hearing Hajun's crying again.

With great difficulty, he climbed out from between your legs, feeling the loss of contact grow cold between his fingers as he took a few steps back and took your hand to help you down from the worktop. Heeseung looked at you a little better this time. Lips reddened and the skin on your neck the same, a few bite marks he'd left while kissing there made him smile a little sideways as he saw your eyes go down to his cock.

"Oh" Heeseung threw his oversized blouse over it, even though it only covered half of his lower body, but he couldn't stop it. 

You'd even tease him about how beautiful he looked with his hair messed up – by you – and his red mouth too inviting to keep kissing. But Hajun had called your name, taking you away from all the unholy thoughts you were having in the kitchen with Heeseung.

"Shit" you turned away from Heeseung and watched him throw his head back, as frustrated as you were to get it over with as the two of you ran to the top of the stairs. Climbing each step a little faster until you entered Hajun's room and were followed by his older brother "Hey, I'm here."

"I had a bad dream, Y/n" he was crying, hugging your body quickly as soon as you sat on the edge of the bed.

You kissed the top of Hajun's head and looked at the door, beckoning Heeseung to come in too. And so he did.

"Hey buddy, are you okay?" Heeseung knelt beside the bed where you were sitting with Hajun.

"Seungie" the younger man pulled out of your embrace, this time choosing to hug his brother, "I had a bad dream."

"Do you want to tell us what it was like?" Heeseung asked.

Hajun remained quiet for a while still hugging Heeseung, probably calming down from the fright he'd had as he got out of his brother's arms and lay back on the bed. You dried the stubborn tears from his face with such a gentle touch, that it made Heeseung wonder if you would have done the same for him if you had seen him cry earlier.

What kind of fucking thought is that, Heeseung? He pushed any thoughts of this aside and focused on the scene in front of him, seeing that Hajun looked a little calmer as he sighed.

"I dreamt about my father" the mention of the man, made Heeseung's jaw clenched, and he wanted to curse himself so much for seeing that your eyes were on him now. Surely this could come up as a topic of conversation or, worse, now you could find out about his father. And that was a subject Heeseung didn't want anyone to know about.

"And do you remember what it was like?" you asked.

"Never mind, Hajun's tired—"

"He fought with me in the dream" Hajun interrupted Heeseung who was already on his feet, he didn't want to pace around while listening to his brother's dream "And then I saw him beating up Seungie and leaving the house with my favorite teddy bear."

Before Hajun could cry again, you grabbed one of his hands and kissed it.

"It was just a dream, it won't happen, Junie" trying to reassure the little boy that it would never happen was easier than you thought. He smiled at you.

"Promise you won't let it happen? That you'll look after me, but Heeseung too?"

Hajun's eyes were so pleading and piteous. You wondered if Heeseung did the same thing when he wanted something. But also, you wondered why that had been said. Why had Hajun asked you to do that kind of thing?

Your lack of words made Heeseung restless, moving from side to side until he went to the bedroom door. Perhaps you had been clear in your attitude that you were only there to look after Hajun. He just didn't know why it was bothering him so much, leaving a slight tightness in his chest. It could be because of his brother's dream, of course! That was it, wasn't it? Or was it his lack of an answer?

Heeseung didn't want to think too much, he didn't want to let anything get to him. But he was completely wrong when standing in the doorway of Hajun's room, he heard you.

"I promise, Junie."

If before it was inevitable not to look at you while you were around, now it seemed impossible for Heeseung to look away from you. Even having to spend a whole week with just you, him, and Hajun. 

The boy had the vivid memory of your lips against him in that kitchen every time he saw you say something. Your mouth moved to answer something his younger brother or talk on the phone to his mother because she called and wanted to know if everything was okay. Heeseung wanted to curse himself for remembering the sounds you made and how he felt when he got between your legs. It might have sounded pathetic to any guy who said it out loud, especially if it was about you.

He'd certainly heard half an hour of Jake's lecture about what had happened, especially as he didn't dare to say much afterward.

"She thinks I'm an idiot, then?" Heeseung asked.

"More than usual? Absolutely" Jake wanted to throw anything in his hand at his friend's head, especially after he saw the gleam in Heeseung's eye when he talked about you.

It was clear that all that denial was turning into attraction and Sim knew it would, he didn't read the silly novels that Ryunjin pushed at him for nothing, something would have to do and sure enough, it was the analysis he'd done on your – unofficial – relationship with Heeseung. Something he kept quiet until his older friend opened his mouth and told him everything.

At first, the kiss had been something that had shocked Jake, after all, Heeseung couldn't spend two seconds next to you without an argument breaking out. But as he went on to tell you about the events and how he had been acting around you during that week, something in Jake clicked. It wasn't necessarily a crush, but something in Heeseung about finding you attractive or starting to take a romantic interest in you.

"That's got to be a joke, doesn't it?" Heeseung turned to Jake and then looked at Sunghoon, another friend of the two of them who always listened to the lamentations and frustrations about how Heeseung had argued – again – with you.

"Firstly, you didn't deny it at any point when Jake talked about you being attracted to Y/n ever since we arrived" Sunghoon leaned back even further in the café chair, holding back a smile when he saw his friend's eyes go wide "Secondly, you kissed her, like, do you do that with someone you can't stand?"

Heeseung wanted to say yes, that was exactly it. It would be normal to kiss someone he can't stand, right? But the question would be... Why can't he stand himself? 

After keeping quiet for a while, he tried to forget how right his friends were because he didn't want to dwell on something he was struggling to forget, especially since his mother's week away was over and that meant you'd be going back home. No more seeing you at home all the time, at least not alone. This would give him time to think more calmly and put all his thoughts in order, which could make him even more confused if it were possible.

Sighing heavily after returning from university, Heeseung just wanted to throw himself on his bed and forget about all that mental confusion for the next few days. Isolate himself, do his homework, and pretend you weren't downstairs in his house. Maybe that would be easy. Maybe he could ignore it a little and try not to run around looking like an idiot in front of you because he's had a whole week, uninterrupted, to say a single word to you. But no, Heeseung couldn't.

At least he said good morning and smiled at you every day while you were with Hajun, right? You shouldn't smile back, you shouldn't make him almost scream internally because you were being nice to him. 

Shit, Heeseung. You sound like a teenager, you idiot. He might even have continued talking in his head if it hadn't been for the voices coming from the living room. 

Heeseung didn't want to think that he had arrived at his house after you and that he would see the scene of you fooling around with Hajun. He tried to run as far as he could when Jake gave him a lift so he wouldn't have to wait for you to get home and have lunch with you. At least not that day. But to the boy's surprise, the voices were much more different than his own. 

And he knew – unfortunately – who it was.

"Look, you're here" in the old days, Heeseung would have given anything to hear that voice cheerfully after coming home from school, perhaps if he were in eighth grade again. But coming home from university with a sick feeling in his stomach, he just wanted to throw up as he looked at his father.

"Son" his mother got up from the sofa where she was, not so close to his father, and they both seemed to be having an amicable conversation before Heeseung arrived.

"What are you doing here?" he asked directly to the man who was trying to smile in his direction.

"Your father called me yesterday, he misses you and Hajun" his mother had the sweetest voice of all, and on any occasion. Heeseung wanted to ask her how she was feeling in the presence of that man. It was impossible to have such a beautiful smile and calm voice after everything he had done.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" he knew that his pent-up anger would come out somehow, he just didn't want to explode in front of his mother. At least Hajun wasn't there.

"I asked your mother to spend a weekend with you and Hajun" he took a step forward to try to get closer to Heeseung. The boy did the same, mustering the only ounce of sanity he had not to slam his fist into the man's face. Unfortunately, it was still his father.

"I won't, and you won't get Hajun out of this house."

"Heeseung" his mother called out.

"What's your problem, Mom? Really?" Heeseung turned away from his father and walked to the middle of the room to approach his mother. It was almost like a plea when he let out, "After everything he's done, you still have the nerve to let him in and allow this? No!"

"He's still your father, my son" she smiled weakly "And it's only a weekend..."

"No" he said.

The protests could continue, Heeseung knew that this discussion would be so long that they would spend hours in that room. They shouted and protested that they wouldn't leave, but the door opened quickly.

Hajun's hurried footsteps and the conversation he was having with you were the reason the three of them shut up immediately.

"I can't do without this ice cream, Y/n. Please" Hajun whined. When you laughed, it was the only thing that could make Heeseung relax his shoulders, even if he didn't want to admit it. The sound of your laughter so close up awakened something in him.

"We can go to the other side of town after you've done your homework" you said, making the little boy giggle. Okay, maybe you were right, but he'd still convince you to go across town to the best ice cream parlor you and he had visited last week.

"Dad?" Hajun was the first to enter the room, looking at the scene before him. Upon hearing this, you took a few more hurried steps behind the little boy to be equally shocked by what you were seeing.

The father of the Lee family was there, for the first time since you started babysitting Hajun. Mrs. Lee had a small smile when she saw the little boy go towards her to hug him affectionately. But what caught your eye was Heeseung's furious look. That look you knew because it was the only thing you saw all that time, except when he looked at Hajun or his mother.

So Heeseung was angry at his father, the man who was smiling at you at that moment.

"Hello, you're..." he tried to make conversation when he saw that no one would say anything.

"Oh, I'm Y/n, Hajun's nanny" you approached to greet the smiling man, smiling too. But as soon as your hand almost touched him, a strong tug on your wrist made you stagger backward.

Your eyes quickly searched for the reason to find Heeseung already looking at you.

"Come up with Hajun, please" he ordered.

"Heeseung..."

"Not now, just go up with him" he whispered when he saw that Hajun was engaged in an awkward conversation with his father and mother "And stay there as long as you can."

"Are you okay?" Heeseung didn't want to have another clash of feelings at that moment, especially with your gaze so intensely on him. So he just nodded quickly and looked away to the other three.

"Junie, go upstairs with Y/n. I heard you need to do your homework..."

"But I wanted to meet the babysitter and, well, spend some time with your brother" the older man seemed quite nice, but if that was the reason Heeseung was clenching his hands into fists, it was certainly a false front.

"Hajun, go with Y/n" was the older brother's final word, and from the way the little boy didn't even question it, you knew it was something much more delicate.

As a silent apology, Mrs. Lee waved to you and Hajun before going upstairs to the youngest's room.

"Do you want to take a shower before you start your homework?" you asked, going to his closet to get some clothes that were more comfortable than his school uniform.

Searching for some sweat shorts and a T-shirt, you turned towards him to see Hajun's eyes redden and shine. Running up to the little one, you knelt in front of him before feeling little arms encircling your neck.

"Hey, hey, hey... Are you okay?" you whispered as you hugged him, sitting down on the floor to welcome the little one into a tight embrace.

"I don't like it, Y/n... I don't like it."

"What? What don't you like?" as you asked, your hands went straight to the little one's hair to stroke it as you let him cry in your embrace.

Hajun cried silently for a few minutes, sobbing softly as he felt a little safer in your arms.

"The last time Dad was here..." he sighed between whimpers, lifting his head a little to meet your face "He and Heeseung had a nasty fight, but neither of them knows that I know."

"Your mother knows?" you asked, Hajun agreed.

It was the night the betrayal came to light that Heeseung didn't want to put his mother through all that lying to sustain a marriage that was only for her. His father had been gone for a long time, or at least trying to maintain an appearance that didn't exist.

Hajun was supposed to be asleep that night, but Heeseung's furious shouts woke him up, causing him to get out of bed and open the bedroom door with a crack. Hearing the swearing and shouting, he also heard something. It sounded like a struggle. Mrs. Lee's crying aroused Hajun's despair and he almost went downstairs to see what was going on, why Heeseung was cursing his father. Hajun had never heard his older brother swear like that.

But before he could go downstairs, his mother stopped midway with watery eyes and a silent plea for him to go back to his room.

"Stay here, okay? And don't tell them about it" Hajun knew something was very wrong because he had never seen his mother cry. And after a few minutes, the fighting seemed to stop. 

The front door slammed hard and then Hajun tried to forget what had happened for so long until he only remembered after seeing his father's figure standing there in the middle of the room. They were flashes of the small event that was much bigger, and it made you even more curious because Hajun's words were few, even though they contained a lot of information since you were left in the dark when you arrived.

At least there was something to know, but it wasn't as if you needed to ask him everything either. You just wanted to protect him and you would do that, the questions could come later.

"God, dude, stop drinking" Jake whined as Heeseung poured himself another glass, ignoring his friend's protests.

"Why?" he asked "As far as I remember, we came here because I'm sad and I need to get drunk."

"Drunk is fine, but not to the point of vomiting" Jake took another glass away from Heeseung "I'm taking you away and I don't want anyone vomiting in my car."

It was a fair point, but Heeseung didn't want to make a big deal out of it. He wanted to forget the last few weeks.

He wanted to forget that, unfortunately, his father had had a shitty, friendly talk with his mother, agreeing that he would take Hajun away for at least one weekend to go for a walk or do something nice. Even if the boy's fights and constant swearing came to nothing. He knew he couldn't stop it, not legally, so as long as nothing happened to the little boy, Heeseung vowed not to speak a word to his father. 

Then he became even more frustrated by your presence in his home, and this was because, as the days went by, he realized that he could feel something. Not even the slightest something for you. But what he didn't count on was the fury that went through his whole being when he saw you laughing with a boy in the university cafeteria. Heeseung hardly ever saw you there, or if he did, it was always with Ryunjin, so why did it bother him so much?

The last fact had been a state secret, none of his friends knew anything about it. So they attributed Heeseung's bad mood and sadness to the events with his father and how powerless he felt to let Hajun meet the man he hated most on the face of the earth.

"I might as well go home alone" Heeseung flashed all his pearly teeth in a childish grin when Sunghoon arrived with a few more glasses.

He was such a savior of the fatherland, making his sad friend, who just wanted to get drunk at that moment, happy.

"So why did you ask me for a ride?" Jake raised one eyebrow, smiling "Why did you say you wouldn't drive and I was supposed to take you back home?"

"Because you love me and would do anything for me" Heeseung picked up another glass and turned away from Jake to drink.

There was no point in arguing or stopping the tallest boy from drinking that night, not even Sunghoon could do it. The only way out was to surrender and let Heeseung enjoy as much as he could, even if Jake sneered every time the glass was against Lee's lips.

He wondered what the car would look like if it swayed too much while he was taking Heeseung home, or what he would look like in the back seat or even in the back if he had to take Sunghoon too.

And it was this scene that Jake found himself in, a few hours later, as he carried his two best friends out of the bar. Sunghoon was in the driver's seat to guide the way while Heeseung sat in the back seat, his legs wide apart and his head resting against the back of the seat.

Jake looked in the rearview mirror, afraid that some fluid would come out of Heeseung's mouth or that he would have to stop abruptly so that his friend would run off and vomit. But no, the journey continued normally until the three of them stopped in front of Lee's house. Meanwhile, Heeseung's mind was far away. Closed eyes had been a plague on his life for the past few weeks because every time it happened, your face would appear in his mind. It was something Heeseung tried at all costs to ignore. Something he swore to himself that if it happened again, he would have to take action.

And it was impossible not to think about you after the last scene he saw, your smile at that other boy still played like a memorized movie in his mind and even if you hadn't meant it, Heeseung had no right to feel that way. He was the one who had been a jerk to you all along, you couldn't be expected to be sweet to him about it. 

"Heeseung" Sunghoon called out, turning back to touch his friend's knee. He opened his eyes slowly, getting used to the idea of seeing his friend's face and not his own in his thoughts.

"What's up?" he asked as soon as he was off the bench and sitting properly.

"We're here" Jake said, turning off the car "Do you want us to go in with you?"

A while of silence was enough for Heeseung's mind to wander even further and, without realizing it, it had already come out of his mouth without giving him a chance to regret it.

"Take me to Y/n's house."

"What the fuck?" Sunghoon almost shouted. Jake turned around abruptly, almost hitting Sunghoon head-on.

"Dude, what the fuck? Why are you asking me this?" he asked.

Really, why was he asking this? Heeseung didn't have an effective explanation for it, much less did he think he should. He just felt like it.

"I don't know, I just need to see her now and..." a long sigh came from his lips, Heeseung allowed himself to run one hand through his hair as he looked at Jake and then at Sunghoon "I need to make up for the shit I've done and tell her that I can't stop thinking about her."

"Oh" the two friends said at the same time, Jake swallowing down the urge to shout and say that it was all part of the little novel he'd written in his head about you and Heeseung. But that would be something for future conversations.

"Only if you tell me something" Jake said.

"Whatever you want to know" since everything was screwed up, there was no point in hiding anything from his best friend.

"Your father wasn't the only reason we were at the bar hours ago, was he?"

The shy smile that Heeseung tried to hide by biting his lower lip said it all, he didn't need a specific word for Jake or Sunghoon. It was clear how exactly that said that you had also been a reason, even if neither of them knew what it was. 

Seeing Heeseung like that was new for the two boys sitting in the driver's and passenger's seats, so all that was left was for Jake to start the car again and drive to your apartment. Without asking Heeseung any questions about it. 

But nothing stopped Sunghoon from making fun of him the whole way.

Words of encouragement were a mantra in the boy's mind who, with every step into the building where you lived, felt his whole body tremble. It was strange to be feeling this way, even more so for him who had never been this attached. Heeseung had never really thought that a girl could make him so nervous that he almost tripped over his own feet as he entered the elevator.

What could he say to you when he knocked on your door? That he wanted to see you? That would be something you wouldn't believe, even if it was the only truth he could tell you. 

It made Heeseung rethink everything he'd ever said to you and the way he'd treated you since he met you. He didn't mean to be rude and he knew that it was all a reflection of what he had experienced with his father's disagreements. You, unfortunately, were the only person around and he didn't want the sight of someone new coming into his house. Because the last person to come out from under that roof had made a huge stranger in his life.

Heeseung didn't want to give in to someone like you, who came so easily into the Lee family's life and won over even his mother. The way she talked to you, the way she treated you like a member of the family. Heeseung rolled his eyes every time his mother brought the same candies, but not just for him and Hajun, she brought them for you too. Or how affectionate she was with you when you were at his house, chatting like old friends and laughing at things he didn't understand. He didn't want to understand why his mother was so happy after finding out she had been betrayed while Heeseung was suffering and disgusted by his father's image.

It was something he hadn't understood until recently. Maybe all the answers were right in front of his eyes, he just didn't want to accept it yet. So he needed to throw his hands up in the air and knock on your door right then and there, and that's exactly what he did.

He didn't know how you would react and he didn't want to, just looking at you would be enough for him to smile and walk away. Maybe apologize and say some lame excuse the next day and hope you believed his words.

Heeseung heard footsteps from inside the apartment and some mumbling that you were already on your way, indicating that you weren't ready for visitors or were far enough away to answer the door. Apprehension gripped his entire body as he took a few steps closer to hear what was going on inside.

As soon as you opened it, finishing putting on one of the sleeves of your long coat, Heeseung's world seemed to stop right there.

You were beautiful. More beautiful than he'd ever seen you before. Sharing the same roof with you for a week when his mother went away gave him the right to see you in your pajamas practically every night, but he didn't know that you looked even more beautiful in light silk pajamas and wearing a wool coat to cover your exposed arms. 

"Heeseung?" your voice snapped him out of his thoughts as he looked at your face, the shock and curiosity screaming in your eyes making him feel euphoric. He didn't know what to say as he saw that you were still standing there, slightly startled by his presence.

He opened and closed his mouth for a few seconds to say something, but nothing seemed to come out. It was as if Heeseung had unlearned how to say anything because your gaze was making him shy.

When you took a step towards him, as if to get the attention of the boy in front of you, Heeseung didn't reason enough. He just raised one of his hands to touch the wool of your jacket and pulled you forward. The slow thud of your body against his made you let out a startled cry, which soon calmed down when Heeseung looked you in the eye.

"Jake gave me your address," he whispered "I needed to come here."

"Why?" your low voice sent all kinds of sensations through Heeseung's body and he wanted to be able to run away, but he limited himself. Squeezing his fingers against the wool of your jacket and loosening the fabric little by little.

"Because I want to talk to you, can we?" it was your time to deny it, tell him to go home and carry on without talking to Heeseung because a conversation with him would never end well.

But it wasn't like you to do anything you really should, so you gave him the go-ahead to enter your apartment and guide him to the sofa. Asking him to sit down before disappearing down the corridors. Just long enough for Heeseung to take off his jacket and put it on the armchair next to him, then sit down on the larger sofa and look around. Trying to get as many details as possible in case one day you asked him what he thought of your apartment.

Not that it mattered, he could say he'd need to go there more often to notice anything different. But remembering the first time you were here could be something useful and nice, perhaps.

"Here" you came back into the living room with a glass of water in your hands, walking over to the sofa where he was sitting and handing him the glass.

"Thanks" he said after taking the glass, drinking almost all the water in a matter of seconds. This was an indication of how nervous he still was after feeling your weight next to him on the sofa, the closest you'd been since the kiss you two had shared in the kitchen at his house.

Heeseung placed his glass on the coffee table and continued to stare at his own feet as he sighed slowly, clasping his hands together and playing with his fingers.

"My relationship with my father is the worst of all, and you've realized that haven't you?" you mumbled when he asked, albeit rhetorically, letting him continue his train of thought when he looked at you straight away "He cheated on my mother and ruined our family."

Oh. So that's why Heeseung was so harsh in his father's presence. And you couldn't understand how someone could betray Mrs. Lee, even if she was such an incredible woman.

"When my mother hired you, it was because she wanted to keep Hajun entertained most of the time and she knew I wouldn't be able to do that because I signed up for everything the university offered. Just so I wouldn't stay at home and have to deal with my father showing up."

Heeseung hated to lie that he had been neglectful to his younger brother about this, but he also couldn't risk bumping into his father and ending up fighting with the man in his younger brother's presence. That's when Mrs. Lee hired you as a nanny. Having someone to give the little one the attention that neither she nor Heeseung could be her priority. Someone you knew – even if you and Heeseung didn't speak to each other at the time – made the woman feel relieved because you seemed to have hit it off with the little one straight away.

"Seeing you integrate into the family made me feel angry because no one could like such a broken family with a false front" Heeseung was still looking at you, but his thoughts were a little more distant when he rambled "My mother wasn't happy when she hired you as a nanny. Hajun wasn't so happy when he met you and he only did it because my mother asked him to be nice to whoever was going to take care of him" a long sigh came from Heeseung's lips, looking away from you. "And I didn't accept that someone would be so nice to us because the last person who treated me, my brother, and my mother, so well, betrayed all of us."

You listened intently, seeing how broken Heeseung was inside your home. Opening his heart to you and asking for nothing in return.

He spoke for the first time about what it was like to have caught his father that night at the bar, how he felt the anger consume his body, and how he fought so many times until the man finally left the house. The divorce proceedings were kept under wraps because Hajun couldn't have known that something bad was going on, and your role was important in distracting him.

Heeseung admitted everything. And all the bad treatment he's given you since he met you was because he didn't know how to separate what was bad with his father, and that it shouldn't show to anyone. You wouldn't be like his father to anyone in the family, but amid the whole divorce process, you were there. Doing good for the Lee family without even knowing it.

And he didn't think he deserved it. I knew that Hajun deserved everything wonderful because he would spare his brother any bad feelings, but when you started being nice to Heeseung, he only knew how to be defensive. 

You weren't supposed to greet him every time you were at home, you weren't supposed to flash smiles in his direction, let alone wave after a short answer he gave. Heeseung was rude – even for no reason – and you were still nice to him. Or at least polite. He wanted to believe that it was out of pure politeness and because Hajun was almost always around.

"I know I was a complete idiot and you never deserved that anyway" he slid his hand up to rest on your knee, feeling the slow touch of your fingers against his. Hesitantly, you took Heeseung's hand to intertwine your fingers in each other's "And that day in my kitchen..."

"We don't— Don't need to talk about..."

"I want to talk about it" he interrupted you, squeezing your fingers lightly and looking at you. This forced you to look at him too and maintain eye contact as you listened to every word Heeseung had to say "It was the day I saw my father in the bar, I left very angry."

You wanted to ask why he had gone after his father because Heeseung liked to beat himself up about it. But perhaps that was a conversation for another time, his gaze was so intent on you that all you could think about was every word he said.

"When I got home and you were in the kitchen, arguing was so unbearable that I acted on impulse when I kissed you and..." Heeseung's gaze dropped to your mouth, his Adam's apple bobbing with a dry gulp as he swallowed his saliva nervously "I didn't regret it, because I wanted it again."

"You—"

"I don't know what you did, Y/n, but I can't stop thinking about that day" neither can I, you wanted to answer, but hearing you say everything without a hint of pressure was wonderful. Maybe you'd confess later, but hearing his confession first was much better "You make me nervous, and want to kiss you every time we're near each other."

It was your turn to swallow. Heeseung was still staring at your mouth as if he were mesmerized by every detail of your lips when he felt your hand break away from his and go to the face next to you. You pulled him by the chin and felt Heeseung's breath against your skin from the sudden contact.

"We're too close now, what can you do?" you whispered.

He knew very well what to do and he wasn't going to waste any more time as he had done in previous weeks. Heeseung allowed his lips to touch yours slowly, but showing the urgency he had to feel you like that again.

You completely surrendered to the moment of having to kiss Heeseung again, this time knowing the exact moment when he asked for permission to enter your mouth with his tongue and how much slower his lips were now. Each movement was well appreciated as his hands slid down to your waist and yours ran to the back of his neck. Pulling Heeseung close, almost as if he wanted to fuse him against your body. And he would certainly do that if necessary.

But all he did was lay you back against the sofa while still maintaining the slow rhythm of the kiss, sighing against your lips as you spread your legs to accommodate Heeseung's body between them. It was a scene from heaven to be there again and in a slightly better position than sitting on a kitchen worktop. Heeseung could have sworn he cried in the middle of that kiss at being so close to you again.

Like a memory from last time, as soon as you both felt the need for air and he slid his mouth over yours, a moan came out of his throat. As sly as if he was really inside you when Heeseung kissed a specific spot on your neck.

That sound triggered something in him that, at the same moment, Heeseung pressed his hips against yours so that you could feel the full effect that just one kiss had on him.

"Hee..." you whispered as he returned with kisses all over your skin until he reached your earlobe, nibbling the skin slowly before aligning his face with yours again.

"You wouldn't be able to stop me now, would you?" he whispered back, kissing your mouth as slowly as he moved his hips against yours. It was torturous and at the same time sensual to feel Heeseung's tongue slide against yours at the same pace as he pressed his hard cock between your legs.

You moaned once more, anchoring your legs and holding his body there. Helping with the pressure and making him moan this time, biting his lower lip to break the kiss.

"You're going to be the death of me, Y/n" he gasped as he looked into your eyes. The fucking beautiful expression with the disheveled hair and droopy eyes, red mouth and chest rising and falling to normalize breathing.

"My room isn't too far from here" you pulled him back to you, feeling his lips hover over yours. Heeseung's smile widened even more.

"Good" he sealed his lips to yours "I haven't stopped wondering how this would end since the day I kissed you in that damn kitchen."

He wrapped his arms around you, lifting you off the sofa to pick you up and carry you to your room with your instructions along the way. 

Heeseung just didn't know that you were also thinking about it, about to unravel all that thought.

© ikeuverse, 2024. do not copy, translate or steal my stories.

[harunayuuka2060]

WHB Series #1 (Cont.)

MC: *has put Raphael on a leash and muzzle; still with his restraints*

Amon: ...

Amon: That looks cozy.

MC: Bitch, what?

Bael: Is he still under your spell?

MC: Dunno. But he's suspiciously being docile.

Bael: What do you mean-

MC: *yanks Raphael's leash so he would lower his head* *ruffles his hair hard*

MC: I've been treating him roughly since he came here, but fucker seems fine with everything.

MC: You have any guesses why?

Bael and Amon: ...

Bael: Descendant of Solomon, are you experiencing any fatigue?

MC: No?

Amon: Are you using the seraph to replenish your energy?

MC: ...

MC: *checks out Raphael* Nah, I haven't taken a bite off him.

Raphael: *blushes*

MC: I didn't mean that in a sexual way, the fuck.

Bael and Amon: ...

Naberius: What are we going to do here, descendant of Solomon?

MC: What else? We're going to hunt his minions.

Naberius: Won't that be dangerous?

MC: Yes, but we've got this. *yanks Raphael again*

Naberius: ...

Naberius: I hope you don't mind me saying this, but are you certain he will be of help?

MC: Yes? He's the bait.

Naberius: ...

Naberius: Have you created a new weapon?

MC: Yes, sweetie. And I'm quite confident about it.

Naberius: *blushes slightly*

Stolas: Hey, you know they're not calling you that, right?

Amon: MC acts sweet in the taste of success.

MC: To be precise, it's the sweet taste of hard wor-

MC: ...

Naberius, Stolas, and Amon: *also became alert*

Raphael: *mumbling some words*

MC: ...

MC: Get ready. We've got a battalion.

*The angels appeared from above.*

The angels: You will die here today, descendant of Solomon!

MC: Oh really? *smirks* Even if I have your Seraph Raphael? *holding him close*

The angels: ...

The angels: He'll praise us for killing you.

MC: This m-

Raphael: *immediately flew towards the sky, attacking the angels*

MC, Amon, Naberius, and Stolas: ...

Raphael: *killing every single one of them*

Amon, Naberius, and Stolas: *looks at MC*

MC: ...

MC: This wasn't part of my plan. Quick! Go back to the castle and report to Bael!

Stolas: How about you?!

MC: I'll be fine! LEAVE!

Amon, Naberius, and Stolas: *hesitates, but follows their order*

MC: *when they're sure they left*

MC: RAPHAEL!!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!!

Raphael: ...

Raphael: *looks at them and smiles*

Raphael: I took care of them. Just for you.

MC: *looks at all the bodies of angels now on the ground*

MC: ...

MC: What's going on?

Raphael: *descends in front of them* *leans close*

Raphael: How did I do?

Raphael: God.

MC: ...

MC: What the fuck-

Beelzebub: Get away from them, Raphael.

Raphael: *holds MC securely*

MC: !!!

Raphael: I'm bringing them back to heaven.

MC: HUH??!!

Beelzebub: *laughs*

Beelzebub: I won't let you!

MC: These idiots-

MC, Raphael, and Beelzebub: *went back to the palace safely*

Raphael: *in his restraints again*

Beelzebub: *with a few wounds on his body, but he's completely fine*

MC: *on the other hand, feels exhausted*

Beelzebub: That was a smart move. I'll give you 1000 points.

MC: Shut the fuck up.

Raphael: *is in a terrible condition after MC activated the bomb inside his body, though he miraculously survived*

Beelzebub: ...

Beelzebub: You need to be more careful from now on.

MC: ...

MC: No. I'm going to exploit this.

Beelzebub: *surprised* What?

MC: A powerful seraph called me 'god'? *smiles* I'd be dumb not to use that opportunity.

Beelzebub: ...

Beelzebub: *laughs* Let's see what you can do.

Michael: Raphael killed a battalion of our angels?

A random angel: Yes, sir.

A random angel: Sir Raphael betrayed heaven for the descendant of Solomon!

Michael: ...

Gabriel: Raphael did? Why would he do such a thing?

Michael: That's what I would like to know.

[gauloiseblue]

I feel like Price would stop smoking for his partner, not out of love (although it's always about love when it comes to her, but this time, it's an indirect result of it), but out of concern.

The thing is, Price loves a headstrong woman, but marrying her is a double-edged sword. One side, her loyalty is unwavering, but so is her will.

She hated it when he smoked, it made everything around him smell terrible. Not only that, it's slowly taking away his beautiful voice.

She'd say that it's going to take him away from her, or that their days together will be shortened if he keeps smoking his cigar. But he'd comfort her by saying that 'he's a healthy man' and 'he'll probably live longer than her'.

Of course, she didn't buy into his reasons.

After months of persuasion, she decided that it's not enough and stepped up her game.

One morning, she pulls out a pack of cigarettes, and begins to smoke at breakfast.

To this day, nothing beats his surprised face that morning.

When he asks her why she starts to smoke, she gives him all of his answers to the same questions.

It makes me relaxed. It helps me focus better. Just feel like it.

And when she's feeling a little mean, she'll say; "You know I'll follow you anywhere. If you decide you wanna leave the earth faster, so do I."

And that horrifies him,

The thing is, they both knew that she did it out of spite. She hates the bitter taste of nicotine, and she despises the smell as it gets into her hair everytime. But she keeps going, to the point that she'll buy the non-filter cigarettes.

That's when he decides to stop.

(If anyone asks him what's his biggest weakness is, he'd say it's his wife and her guts.)

He stops smoking almost immediately—not reducing his nicotine doses gradually, but straight up stopping at once.

Of course, after years of addiction, it'll be hard for him to cope with the withdrawal syndrome. He'll get a bad headache, mood swings, and a nasty cough. He'd come back to his old way, if not for his wife's support.

She compensates him by cooking him delicious meals, listens to him when he's stressed, and lets him have his way with her whenever he wants.

Months passed, and he began to feel better. Although he doesn't want to admit it, he does feel that his health is improving. He can run faster, he's experiencing less fatigue, and his mind becomes clearer without the help of nicotine.

His relationship also improves, as she doesn't mind kissing him for hours. They'll go for rounds, to the point that it's tiring her out. Which is a surprise, since she has good stamina.

The boys weren't shocked when they first learnt about it, they said it's bound to happen, sooner or later. Though Soap wasn't happy with it, as he lost the bet with Gaz.

Overall, he's happy with the results. What more can he ask? He already has a loving wife <3

[vettelsvee]

THIS IS ALL MY FAULT | Sebastian Vettel

f1 masterlist | wattpad | ao3 | requests or let's talk!

sebastian vettel x platonic!photographer!reader

based on this request: Okay! So after watching the run Sebastian organized at Imola, I has the idea of reader being someone that works for him (not sure what for though) maybe getting really sick for running in the rain that day, which ends up with Sebastian feeling guilty over it. It’s a silly idea, really, but I think it has a lot of potential to vibes similar to what Sebastian seems to have with the drivers, kind of playing dad to the grid 🥺.

summary: you work as a photographer during the forever senna tribute seb prepared, but you end up being sick

word count: 1618

warnings: none of them really! seb feeling guilty because he thinks reader got sick because of him.

a/n: I'm finally back! sorry for not posting at all during all this past month, university has had me really stressed but I'm finally free from it until september! idk if this is actually something well written because i haven't written anything for a month! also, hope you anon like this even it's definitely crap ���

© VETTELSVEE (2024). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

The rain kept falling on the circuit, but that wasn't such an excuse for Sebastian and his team to cancel what they had been working on for months.

The run that the retired driver had decided to organize on Thursday not only with Formula 1 drivers, but also with those from Formula 2 and 3, and even other members of the sport, in honor of Ayrton Senna and Roland Ratzenberger, was more than perfect. It was an absolute success. And Sunday, when Vettel would drive the car that once belonged to the Brazilian pilot who died 30 years ago on that same circuit, hadn't even arrived yet.

You had been busy taking photos of everything, as you were Sebastian's official photographer. Now, you were gathering all the equipment you had used because the cold you were enduring was barely bearable. You had been out in the rain all day, following Seb wherever he went, which had made you feel increasingly worse. Now, your hands couldn't stop shaking, and you felt like you were about to faint at any moment.

"Y/N, are you okay?" one of the team members asked.

"Yes, of course," you replied with a weak smile. "I'm just a bit cold. I'll be back to be the same me as soon as we get back to the hotel."

The man nodded, not wanting to press you further despite not being very convinced by your words after seeing your completely pale face.

You decided to continue with your work, ignoring anyone who approached you to exchange even the slightest word. You tried to ignore the growing headache, the fatigue, and the tightness in your chest, which seemed to be worsening. Although the rain had stopped and you were in one of the garages, the sky remained dark.

You were surprised to see Sebastian, still wearing a short-sleeved shirt and shorts, just a few meters away from you. You shook your head, trying not to pay attention, and certainly not to worry. He was just your "boss," so to speak, and he was old enough to know what he needed to do to avoid getting sick. Well, he also had Britta, who was like a second mother to him.

A sharp pain pierced your temples. You staggered slightly, and if it hadn't been for your momentum making you lean your back against the wall behind you, you would have fallen to the ground.

"For God's sake, Y/N, you look terrible," he said as calmly as he could, though you could sense his nerves in his tone of voice. "You should go and have a rest. Like… now."

"Seb, we still have a lot to do. It's not just packing up the equipment, but also transferring the photos to the computer, editing them, then preparing the posts for you Instagram account..."

"Y/N, I love your work, but you've done more than enough for today," he interrupted, putting a hand on your shoulder, running his fingers carefully over it. "Now, I'll talk to Britta and we'll assign it to someone who knows what they're doing, okay?"

For a moment, you considered protesting, reproaching him that this was your job, and that's why he wanted you on his team since shortly before leaving Aston Martin, but the way he looked at you made you stop. He seemed worried, very worried. That's why you ended up not only reluctantly accepting but also letting him guide you to a nearby chair.

"Stay here. I'll bring you something warm."

As you watched Seb walk away, you sighed, managing to relax somehow. You saw him enter the Red Bull hospitality, and you assumed it was where he felt most comfortable. A few minutes later, you saw the blonde with two small steaming cardboard cups. As he reached your height, he offered you one of them.

"Thank you," you murmured, wrapping your hands around the cup and taking a sip. Chocolate, something you loved, and Seb knew it perfectly.

"Do you promise you'll go back to the hotel as soon as you finish your hot chocolate?"

"I promise," you assured him. "But I can't promise that..."

"Y/N, just no work for today," he cut in, seeing that you weren't going to fulfill what you had promised. "I want you to spend today and tomorrow resting. Sunday will be a tough day for us. You can do it, at least for me, or am I wrong?"

You nodded your head as if you were seven years old again. You knew you were going to rest as much as you could in your hotel room, but that didn't mean you weren't going to do anything. As you had already planned, you were obviously going to continue with your work. You couldn't disappoint Sebastian, not on such an important weekend like this.

[...]

Sebastian accompanied you to the door of your room, and despite having exchanged a couple of messages with you on Friday, having let you rest all afternoon and part of Saturday morning, and having agreed that you would come to a meeting room in the hotel at 12pm on Saturday to finalize the details of tomorrow's tribute, he didn't see you there.

"Have you seen Y/N?" he asked Britta directly, a little distressed. "She told me she would come with no doubt."

"And she did come," the ex-pilot's PR commented, "but I sent her back to her room as soon as I saw her shivering. Her forehead was burning, and she said she had a slight fever. It wasn’t just a slight fever, Seb," Britta assured him.

The man nodded but became even more worried. Quickly bidding farewell to Roeske, he headed towards your room. He saw the door slightly ajar, possibly your mistake. He knocked softly before entering, and the sight that greeted his eyes made him feel bad instantly.

You were curled up in bed, trembling uncontrollably. You had a small towel on your forehead with cold water to see if you could control your body temperature since you couldn't take your medicine again until the corresponding hours had passed, which was already the next day.

Your face was completely flushed, and your breathing was labored.

As soon as you realized Seb's presence, your eyes welled up with tears. You tried to force a smile, but all that came out were tears from how bad you felt not only for Seb to see you like this but also for ruining something so important.

"Seb... You didn't have to come," you stammered, your voice barely audible.

"Of course, I did! Don't be ridiculous!" he responded quickly, sitting beside you. He placed a hand on your forehead and realized Britta was right. "My God, Y/N, you're burning up. Why didn't you tell me you were feeling so bad?"

"I... didn't want to worry you," you admitted between tears of frustration and exhaustion. "Tomorrow is an important day. You need to be resting to give your best tomorrow. There are people who have come just for you, Seb, you can't let them down."

You noticed him tense a bit at the mention. His lips curved, and his jaw tightened. He took a deep breath and took your hand almost without thinking.

"This is my fault..." he whispered softly. He seemed overwhelmed with guilt, and much of it. You cursed yourself for making him think that when it was all really your fault. "Nothing is more important than your health, Y/N. I'm so sorry, really..."

"Seb, it's okay, really. These things happen; it's completely normal. There's probably someone else like me..."

His silence was the response you partly expected, but it didn't hurt until you saw him shake his head.

"I just wanted to give my best so that the photos would turn out perfect and you would have content worthy of all the work you've put into this..." was all you could say.

"You're already the best, Y/N," he said softly, tucking a strand of hair away from your face. "In fact, you're so perfect that you should stop being so perfect to start worrying more about yourself. And since you don't worry about yourself... let me do it for you, okay?"

Although you didn't agree with him and didn't believe you deserved his praise, you were too weak to argue.

Sebastian stayed with you all day, including the night. He made sure you were as comfortable as possible, brought you water, and soaked the cold cloth in water to lower your fever as soon as possible, miraculously something that worked. He didn't leave your side, not even when you had a coughing fit or sneezed without covering your mouth.

Your fever began to lower in the late hours of that day. Your breath calmed down, and the color seemed to return to your cheeks. Seb sighed with relief, quickly hugging you while continuously placing small kisses on your face and playing with your hair, making you laugh incessantly.

After ordering room service for dinner, since your appetite seemed to have returned, you fell asleep, at least apparently. To avoid disturbing you, Seb went from lying down next to you to reclining on a sofa next to the bed. His eyes were heavy with tiredness, but that didn't stop him from staying alert in case you needed his help.

"Rest, Y/N," he whispered, leaving a soft kiss on your forehead before caressing it. "I guess I'll have to take you out to dinner for the damages I caused."

You smiled at the last thing Seb had said, grateful that every time you got sick, you didn't fall into a deep sleep, and wishing that what Seb had said was true.

[incognit0slut]

Right Kind of Wrong (7)

She never thought she would be involved in a murder case. She also never thought she’d encounter her one-night-stand again—the awkward stranger who isn’t exactly that good in bed… Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong.

Part Summary: She finds herself in a compromising position.

Series Warnings: 18+ explicit content, graphic details of murders, mentions of suicide

a/n: this is my first time writing suspense and crime-mystery, so bear with me if you find any inaccuracy

IF THERE WAS ONE THING SPENCER WAS SURE OF, IT WAS BEING SLEEP DEPRIVED. Fatigue, like an invisible shroud, draped itself around his shoulders, draining all of his energy while his mind stumbled through a labyrinth of exhaustion.

He stifled a yawn, his mind trying to focus on the situation at hand and not the lack amount of sleep he was having. When was the last time he actually slept on his bed? When was the last time he went through his days without constantly refilling his cup with too much caffeine? The muscles around his eyes were starting to twitch with restless energy, a sign of a restless mind faltered under the weight of weariness.

Yet amidst it all, a strange resilience emerged within him. He still managed to focus his blurred vision, scanning his eyes around the room as he pushed away any fatigue and the desire to be somewhere else.

His gaze finally ceased on Garcia, engrossed in her own digital world, a sleek laptop perched on the round table before her. She leaned in, her eyes fixed on the vibrant screen which illuminated her face with a soft, cool glow. "Alright, so, I did more digging onto our recent victim, and let me tell you this, Jamison Lynch wasn't exactly the boss of the year."

Jennifer Jareau—who most of them regarded as JJ—looked up from the document in her hand, sitting across from Garcia. "What do you mean?"

"Jamison Lynch was somebody you wouldn't want as a boss. There were a lot of complaints coming from his subordinates—which surprisingly, most came from female workers."

Spencer's eyes scanned the large board in front of him adorned with a labyrinth of interconnected information. Photographs of the two crime scenes were pinned up, highlighting key details, while strings of marks and drawings crossed the board. "He was very different from the first victim."

"Exactly. Kevin Marshall was the epitome of boss of the year, and everybody just loved the guy, which was why no one could guess how something terrible could happen to him."

"There's a chance what happened to him isn't related to his job," JJ offered.

"Maybe not," Garcia muttered, throwing Spencer a curious look. "But the question is still unanswered, how are the two victims linked to one another?"

"The Unsub's memo is clearly done to punish them," Spencer explained, his attention started to gather all the information gripped onto his brain. "The verse written on Jamison Lynch's body was Romans 6:23, For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in our Lord."

JJ leaned over the desk with a pointed stare. "One thing for sure, the Unsub has a strong religious background."

Spencer nodded. "All the verse they used highlights the notion that sin carries consequences, and death is described as the 'wage' or payment for those transgressions. In his mind, they may interpret these verses as a justification for his vigilante actions, believing that he's carrying out divine punishment on behalf of God."

"A religious upbringing," JJ suggested. "The Unsub could have grown up in a deeply religious environment, where strict interpretations of scripture might be emphasized."

"Most likely a distorted belief system." Spencer's hands were all over the place as he continued with his elucidation. "Over time, the Unsub's religious beliefs may have become twisted and distorted, leading him to believe that he possesses a unique calling to carry out punishment on behalf of a higher power."

He then studied the picture of the first crime scene, his eyes raking over the lifeless body covered in a pool of blood. "Kevin Marshall might seem like the golden citizen, but he must be involved in something that could be illegal..." He suddenly looked over to Garcia. "Did Jamison Lynch start his career as a journalist?"

Her fingers danced across the keyboard. "Yes, he published a lot of his work since 2004."

"Search any articles he wrote that might involve Kevin Marshall, or maybe the company he worked for. "

"Or legal cases that he was assigned with," JJ added.

"That could be a start, although it might take a while because sleuthing without much lead is difficult." Garcia peered at the two of them by the rim of her eccentric, colorful glasses. "But do not fret, I am known to be the best."

Footsteps suddenly emerged into the room as Aaron Hotchner glanced around the three of them. "Garcia," he mentioned, standing behind her. "Did you find any old cases that might be involved in the victims?"

"Ah, yes, the system was searching through the database based on your queries this morning and it took me a while before—" A sudden ping echoed from her device. “Well, that was perfect timing."

Her fingers clicked across the keyboard as her eyes scanned the dimly lit screen. Everyone in the room stood frozen in their tracks, their faces etched with a curious mix of trepidation and curiosity.

Garcia's eyes widened, revealing the turmoil that echoed the collective sentiment of the room. "Whoa."

JJ stood up and circled her way around the table, standing close to her. "What is it?"

"I started looking through the database for any similar crimes in surrounding areas this morning." Her attention shifted between the other three people in the room. "There have been enucleations in other cases, but none recently, and none close by. No similar murder case was shown, but suicide on the other hand..."

"Harvey Webb," JJ read, looking at the photo of the deceased man. "Suicidal death?"

"Thirty-nine-year-old landlord took a tumble off a sixth-floor balcony two years ago, exactly on the apartment complex he rented out."

"Why are we looking at a suicidal case?"

"That's the thing, the local authorities ruled out that he might've not jumped on his own accord, although his wife at that time determined that he had been having suicidal thoughts for a long time and decided to close the case." Garcia did more tapping on her keyboard and somehow pictures of the crime scene were plastered across the screen in front of the room. "Harvey went through depression and a lot of suicidal attempts, there were always cuts along his arm except—"

"There was a writing on his body?" Hotch guessed.

Garcia nodded as she clicked on a clearer picture of the victim's arm. "His autopsy came in that while there were definite signs of attempt self-hurt, this was written between the cuts."

"Galatians 6:7," Spencer read, his eyes fixated on the screen as he recited, "Do not be deceived: God cannot be mocked. A man reaps what he sows."

"Definitely a vigilante on the loose," JJ remarked.

Spencer hummed a positive response and walked over to the board, a marker in his hand as he wrote down the verse. "This verse underscores the concept of reaping the consequences of one's actions, which could further justify the Unsub's belief that his victims deserve punishment for his perceived sins or mistakes."

Hotch studied the pictures of the recent victims and the one shown on the screen. "The way the words are carved across the skin is definitely done by the same person," he noted.

JJ looked between the three pictures before nodding. "I agree." She then glanced up at her co-workers. "So why the different MO? Something connects these three victims, and yet this one"—she pointed to the photo of Harvey Webb—"died in a completely different manner. He either jumped or was pushed. We don't even know if it was a murder, just that he was branded the same as the other two victims."

"The timeline doesn't add up," Spencer claimed, his brows furrowed deeper. "There's too much of a gap between the first victim and the second victim, we're looking at two different stressors that triggered the Unsub."

Hotch stood beside him, crossing his arms as he studied the evidence they had collected these past few days. "If this was his first victim and the two men were his second and third, it's possible he's advancing, that his fantasy is developing."

Spencer looked back at the three pictures. What connected these three dead people, two murdered in violent, heinous ways, the third a potential suicide victim? What wrongdoings might they possibly sin? And now he couldn't help but feel the weight of Hotch's words and how revolting one could act in this series of crimes, proclaiming them as fantasies, his skill, and determination more distinguished than ever before.

"If that's the case..." he pointed out, a certain tension hanging in the air. "He's only getting started."

Y/n must be mad—utterly, completely out of her mind.

She always considered herself a very sensible person characterized by an ability to think critically, or make rational decisions on logical reasoning. But her thoughts, once orderly and coherent, twisted into bewildering shapes because here she was, perched right in front of an apartment door she once closed behind and never looked back.

Why did she think it was a good idea to come here uninvited at this time of hour? How did she end up being here when she was lying in her bed a few hours ago?

She recalled turning around in her sleep, or perhaps, her attempt to rest her eyes, because she found herself staring into the dark with an unsettling feeling in her gut. Maybe all the turmoil of emotions piled up in her chest had her going into a panic frenzy, relentlessly moving in her bed when she should've been fast asleep.

Somehow amidst dwelling on her anxiety, she was suddenly on her feet, putting on a jacket before calling a cab. Her mind was too tangled to be driving on her own, and when the driver asked her where she was heading, she recited the area she was familiar with. Did she remember the building she wanted to go to? Yes. Did she know the exact address? Apparently not.

Although it was easy to spot the building. The old but clean apartment was recognizable, the sturdy wooden door, adorned with vintage brass fixtures, welcomed her after she tipped the driver her fair. The cool air hit her face, her hair flying around her shoulders as she spotted a residence walking out of the building. She quickly slipped in, seeking a very much-needed warmth, yet now she was starting to question her common sense.

But it was too late to turn back because her hand was already curling into a fist as she knocked on the door. Once, twice, three times. When there was no answer, she wasn't sure whether to be glad or disappointed. She knocked once again, and when she was met with silence, she decided it was a sign that she was indeed making the wrong decision.

So she exhaled a breath she wasn't even aware of holding, turned around, and completely froze when she was met with a familiar pair of hazel eyes. There he was, almost a week since the last time she saw him, standing on the last step of stairs.

Time seemed to stand still. Her heart skipped a beat, his presence exuded a captivating charm. His chiseled features were accentuated by a sculpted jawline, leading up to a pair of intense, deep-set eyes that seemed to hold a hefty amount of fatigue. Dark circles cast shadows beneath his eyes, hinting at nights spent wrestling with restless thoughts.

He was dressed in a rumpled shirt and loosely fitted trousers, his attire mirrored the fatigue he wore upon his face. The fabric seemed to hang upon his frame, lacking the crispness that usually accompanied his wardrobe. But despite his weariness, there was an undeniable pull emanating from his presence. It should be illegal how handsome he still looked even when he looked like he needed some rest.

Spencer took a tentative step closer, looking reminiscent of a puppy with his eyebrows pinched at each beginning in a way that can only mimic either confusion or concentration. "Y/n?"

"Hi," she awkwardly greeted, suddenly feeling out of place.

"What brings you here?"

"I..." she trailed off, her brows furrowed as she tried to find a reasonable answer. But somehow she found herself telling him the truth. "I honestly don't know."

His eyes fixed upon her, silently studying her figure. A cascade of lustrous hair framed her face, falling gracefully upon her shoulders.

"Do you want to come in?"

"I don't want to impose on you—" she stepped aside, letting him unlock his door. "Or disturb your much-needed rest."

A ghost of a smile curled on the corner of his lips as he fished out his keys. "I look terrible, don't I?"

"I wouldn't say terrible, just... you look very tired."

"I haven't had proper sleep in days." With a steady hand, he inserted the key into the lock before a satisfying click echoed in the air. With a gentle push, the door swung open, and he gestured to her with a nod.

She looked between him and his apartment. "Are you sure?"

"Come in," he offered. He walked inside his home and pulled the door ajar. "Please."

She studied him for a while before nodding. The floor creaked as she stepped into his household, and as the door swung shut behind her, she scanned the room that seemed familiar yet foreign at the same time. A sense of warmth enveloped her despite the predominantly dark colors that adorned the space. Soft, ambient lighting emanated from placed lamps, casting a gentle glow upon the room.

She walked past him and noticed the chessboard splayed across the coffee table. "I didn't know you play chess." She sat down on his couch. "Looks like you were in the middle of a game… was someone else here?"

He wasn't sure whether he heard a note of jealousy in her voice, but he smiled nonetheless.

"Actually, I was in a game with myself," he answered sheepishly, shrugging off his suit jacket before placing it over his couch. "Do you want anything to drink?"

"No, it's alright." She leaned forward, her gaze fixed upon the chessboard. Her eyes darted back and forth, analyzing the board with a keen interest before moving a chess piece, placed with precision and purpose.

Genuine surprise crossed his face as he settled beside her. "You know how to play chess?"

"A little. I used to play with my father growing up."

"You don't play with him anymore?"

She shook her head. "He passed away when I was young. Both of my parents did."

"I'm sorry," he gently spoke. He leaned back and turned his body toward her. "Do you have any siblings?"

"Nope, just me."

"I'm an only child too." Then he assessed her carefully while her eyes wandered beyond her striking features, a subtle tension betrayed a deeper complexity lurking beneath the surface. "Now are you going to tell me why you're here?"

He noticed the subtle language of her body where uncertainty weaved on her face. It was in the way she looked between him and her hands, a balance between wonder and reservation that hinted at the lingering doubt within. Then she took a deep breath, her brows furrowed as her voice filled in the silence.

"Does it make me a bad person that I didn't cry after everything that happened?"

He frowned, taken aback by the sudden question. "What do you mean?"

"There was a memorial service for Jamison a few days ago, and while everyone mourned, I just... stood there." She looked down at her hands. "What happened to him was very unfortunate, it just happened that, apparently, I have no emotions.”

His head fell back onto the couch as he watched her. "It doesn't make you a bad person. Grief is a deeply personal and individual experience, and people respond to loss in different ways. Crying is just one expression of grief, but it isn't the only definitive indicator of how much someone cared for or was impacted by the loss of a person, especially given how you saw what had happened."

"But it makes me feel kind of heartless." She glanced back at him. "I mean, he wasn't exactly the greatest boss, and I should've felt a certain kind of sadness, but I... I don't know how I feel, to be honest."

"Y/n," he gently called, his expression softening. "It's important to remember that everyone grieves in their own way. What matters most is that you find healthy ways to navigate and process your emotions surrounding the loss, whether it involves crying or not."

She hummed in response. "I guess you do have a point."

"I do, and I'm right most of the time." Spencer smiled when she rolled her eyes and a comfortable silence settled between them. "Now tell me the truth."

She quirked an eyebrow. "What truth?"

"You obviously have a lot on your mind right now and I'm trying to wrap my head around why you chose to be here."

"Do I need to have a reason?"

As his gaze lingered, he found himself drawn to her eyes—a delicate blend of curiosity and trepidation. They shimmered with a gentle vulnerability, revealing the depths of her longing to be seen and understood.

"I would like to know your reason."

She weighed her words carefully. "I couldn't sleep,” she decided to say. “My mind was constantly turning its gear, then it got too overwhelming?” She shook her head. “I-I guess I needed the comfort..."

As she tried to find her voice, her words become entangled in the turmoil of her emotions. With a deep breath, she gathered her courage. The words spilled forth, unfiltered and vulnerable, resonating with a sincerity that echoed through the room.

"And somehow you were the first person that came to mind."

Spencer felt an unfamiliar intensity washing over him—a mixture of anticipation and uncertainty that tugged at his heartstrings. And then suddenly, completely out of nowhere, the desire to embrace her consumed him, both thrilling and terrifying. It was such a baffling thought because he found hugs to be overwhelmingly intimate for his liking, yet there was this urge to hold her close, to feel the warmth of her body against his.

The weight of uncertainty pressed upon him, urging caution and restraint. But logic lost its battle with instinct, and caution lost its wrestle with impulsive longing as he found himself asking, "Can I give you a hug?"

Her body tensed, not believing the words coming out of his mouth. But as he kept staring at her, she realized that he was being serious. And she found herself nodding, yearning for the warmth radiating from his body.

He carefully drew closer and a magnetic force guided her movements, gently pushing her into his arms. Nervous excitement coursed through her veins, infusing a sense of vulnerability.

Bodies entwined, they breathe in unison, inhaling the essence of closeness as senses unfold—the warmth of skin against skin, the familiar scent that filled the air, the weight of the world momentarily faded away as they surrendered to the pure simplicity of human touch.

His head was spinning with longing and somehow he managed to pull her body gently onto his lap. She silently accepted his tug, placing her legs on either side of his thighs as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Amidst her relishing the gentle press of his body against hers, she couldn't help but find amusement in this new position.

He felt the subtle shake of her shoulder as a burst of soft laughter escaped her mouth. He suddenly tensed. "Is there something funny?"

The confusion etched in his voice had her pulling away, a small smile lingering on her face. "Yes," she answered. "It's amusing how you like having me on your lap so much.”

A slight warmth spread along his face as he became aware of her weight settling on top of him. "I didn’t notice."

She wasn't sure whether it was the glimmer in his eyes, the bashful smile on his lips, or the way he didn't pull his gaze away from her, but before it could register in her mind, she drew herself closer to him. The sudden shift of her movement caused a friction underneath her, and it was at that moment she realized how compromising of a position they were in.

Her fingers brushed against his skin, and an electric current surged through her veins, awakening a longing she had not anticipated. Her eyes flickered with a newfound intensity—a hunger that shimmered in the depths of her gaze as she could only focus on the pulse settling between her thighs. 

As her longing deepened, she became acutely aware of his proximity. The scent of him enveloped her, intoxicating her senses, and her mind was consumed by allowing herself to surrender in this newfound need. 

So she slowly rolled her hips, feeling his body beneath her, and suppressed a moan when she felt the outline of his bulge stroking against her core. Her breath hitched, betraying the innocent intentions that had initially brought them together. 

She felt him tense from the friction and his heart thudding hard against his ribcage, her heart beating to the same rhythm. "Stop doing that," he suddenly said, eyes darkening as he stared at her, voice deep and raspy. 

"Why?" She whispered.

A whirlwind of emotions churned within him. His heart ached to offer solace, yet primal longing tugged at his core, igniting an undeniable urge to keep her closer, to indulge in the sudden pull of desire.

"Because if you don't," he grunted, his hand sliding up her neck, burying it in her thick hair as he tilted her face. He pulled her closer, his thumb sweeping in long strokes along the side of her throat. The heat of her presence lingered on his fingertips, tempting him to pull her into an embrace that transcends mere comfort. "I won't be able to stop myself."

His gaze then traced the contours of her form. The subtle curve of a hip, the graceful arch of a back, the gentle swell of a chest—all become objects of fascination. He watched as her tongue wiped along her bottom lip while she slid her hands across his shoulders, stopping right on his chest, hovering above his heart.

"Then don't," she softly pleaded, moving her hips once again, igniting a moan deep within his chest. “I don't want you to stop."

It was the only push he needed as he closed the distance between them, finally crushing his lips to hers.

>> NEXT PART

.

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And don’t forget to interact with the story! <3

[ebbpup]

Hello hi it's me again I have a question!!!

Do you think the start of magic overload manifests as something like a nosebleed??? Cause. Gestures at the finale. He wasn't doing very good. And it's a lot tamer than..... Thhhat.

"oh, dude your nose is bleeding. "

".. Ouh."

"wait is it sparkling"

"no. I'm gonna go now "

honestly yeah that nose bleed idea goes hard but also i feel like he would be able to feel it because it would feel TERRIBLE. nausea, fatigue, dizziness, migraines, chronic pains getting so much worse, bit of bloating, it's just a miserable experience

[itsjunear]

Comfort

Note: Hello loves! I'm back. After a few months, I have officially finished my midterms and have gotten used to the rhythm of university. I've lost a bit of practice, so I'm really sorry if this is horrible. I know the possibility of a fae catching a cold is almost nil, but I'm sick, so I'll indulge in writing something like this. Again, English is not my first language. I love you all! ❤❤❤

Psdt: I was listening to this song while writing, it doesn't have much to do with it, but I wanted to share it anyway.

Definitely, today would not be a great day. I mean, if waking up with a terrible headache and a runny nose wasn't enough of a bad omen, Az was out on a mission and probably wouldn't be back for another two days.

I sighed as I tried to stand up. The room spun, preventing me from continuing my pitiful attempt to get out of bed, and I groaned, coming to the conclusion that my body felt as if I had climbed up and down the stairs of the House of Wind five times.

I settled back into the large bed I shared with my mate, curling up in the spot that still held his scent. Damn, I missed him so much. I wanted him to be here to hold me.

This is what I had become: a spoiled and needy person because of Azriel. However, with a strength of will gathered over 300 years, I managed to get out of bed and drag myself to the bathroom. I definitely had a fever, and a cold bath would help, so I forced myself into the tub.

Fifteen minutes later, shivering and dressed in Az's warmest clothes, I forced my body to make some soup. Apparently, my biological clock was also out of whack, and I hadn't realized it was already past noon.

Feeling worse than after training with Cassian, I had some of the soup I had made and went back to bed. Wrapped in the scent of my partner and the security it provided, I must have fallen asleep at some point.

A light touch on my forehead gradually pulled me out of unconsciousness, and I responded with a sound filled with annoyance. A low, deep laugh answered me, making me open my eyes as quickly as I could.

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

“Hello, darling” greeted Az's voice, immediately making me smile. “Everything okay?” he asked as he stroked my hair.

I nodded, stroking his cheek. “I thought you’d be back in a couple more days.”

“That was the plan, but I got the information Rhys wanted earlier” he frowned. “Just in time, it seems.”

“I’m fine, Az. It’s just a cold” I tried to get out of bed as my head started spinning again. “You must be tired. I’ll make you some dinner.”

My big and handsome mate stopped me, blocking me with his wing and arm simultaneously. “Stay right there, Y/N. Don’t even think about it.”

I rolled my eyes, followed by a grimace from the pain it caused, and tried to push him away from where he had knelt by the bed. Oh, surprise. He didn't move, not even a little.

“Y/N” he called.

I didn’t look at him, so he put his hand under my chin to center my gaze on him. “You need to rest. I’ll call Madja to give you some remedy, okay?” he informed me as he stroked my hair again.

“Az…”

“If necessary, I will tie you to the bed. I'm serious” he interrupted firmly.

“Fine” I rolled my eyes again. “Only if you lie down with me” I relented. After all, this was the only thing I had wanted since the morning.

He smiled as if he could read my thoughts and sent a wave of love through the bond. Without speaking, he lay down next to me, then pulled me into his arms and settled me on his chest. Filled with his warmth, I felt the fatigue overcome me again, and half asleep, I whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he responded before unconsciousness claimed me.

[icarustypicalfall]

HOLDING ON TO HEARTACHE

rudy parra x reader

PART 2

Summary: when rudy becomes attached to his work, he startes to neglect you. why did it finish like that?

word count: 1k

warnings: sfw, angst, mean rudy, emotional neglect, slight violence, slurs, no use pf y/n just you, argument, guilt.

this is just for the sake of the story i absolutely hate any type of abuse and don't support it, maybe reader won't forgive him now 😈 dhehehe

"you know that the [party] is over when you're standing in an empty space alone "

He knew he shouldn't have said that. Hell, he knew he probably wouldn't see you again after what he said. Yet, he couldn't extinguish the tiny flame of hope that burned within him. He believed that he would find you there, sitting in your usual spot amidst the aftermath of your fights - a place where hugs, kisses, and sweet nothings could mend the misunderstandings.

However, as he pushed open the door to his headquarters this time, he wasn't surprised to find the room empty. The faint lingering scent of your perfume tormented his senses, choking the air out of his lungs. He sighed heavily, taking in the chaotic sight before him - the disheveled room, the sheets strewn across the floor, the shattered lamp. Fixing those material damages would have to wait. He noticed the empty closet, with no trace of your belongings among the shelves.

Rudy sighed, frustration seeping into his every fiber. He knew he was in the wrong side, but he couldn't help himself. The weight of his responsibilities had been bearing down on him, more burdensome than he had anticipated upon his promotion to sergeant. He loved his job, cherishing the honor it brought, but it also demanded a level of mental and emotional preparedness that he struggled to maintain.

He was a man who wore his heart on his sleeve, always sweet, gentle, and helpful. However, since his promotion, those qualities had slowly begun to fade in the face of increasing stress. Rudy was overwhelmed, striving diligently to fulfill every command and requirement. He had little time for himself, let alone for you. Although he would occasionally manage to show some sweetness, like a fleeting kiss on your forehead before bed, the growing distance caused by work started to take its toll.

Things took a turn for the worse when Colonel Vargas decided to send you to another unit, TF141. While they were your allies, the fact that Rudy seemed indifferent to your departure intensified your rage. His focus was solely on reports, mission plans, and weapons, seemingly more interested in pushing the cartel to it's downfall than caring for you. He neither asked nor questioned how long you would be away; he simply approved the transfer and jotted down some notes in his reports.

Rudy had become completely consumed by his job. You rarely saw him, and when you did, he was either surrounded by soldiers or engrossed in paperwork. No matter how hard you tried to engage him in conversation, catch his attention, or prepare his favorite meals, he always dismissed your acts, responding with mere nods and dismissive murmurs of "mm..yeah mi vida."

**

When you finally returned from your mission, you were ready for war - a battle against the man you loved and the man you despised. You had endured enough. For two weeks, Rudy had seemingly forgotten about your existence. He didn't call even once. When you walked into his office, he was in a terrible state, typing on his laptop. He oblivious to your presence and the pain etched across your face.

Sighing deeply, you tossed your helmet onto the nearby couch, glaring at him. Only then did he finally glance up, startled, nearly choking on his coffee.

"Jesus, mi vida! When did you come back?"

His weary, dark eyes were puffy, with dark circles underneath - evidence of countless sleepless nights. He blinked, rubbing his face in frustration as he most likely battled fatigue, continuing to type in a mechanical manner.

"A few minutes ago," you replied tersely, your voice filled with a mixture of disheartenment and anger.

He simply nodded, not bothering to look at you or inquire about your well-being. "Mm...alright. I'll see you around, then."

That was the final straw. In a fit of rage and hurt, you stormed over to his seat and slapped him, unable to contain your emotions any longer. Rudy stared at you, a mix of dumbfoundedness and irritation crossing his face.

"wha... what the hell is your problem?!"

He clutched your wrist tightly, his grip unyielding. A whine escaped your lips as you struggled to break free from his iron grasp.

"You ignored me for months! You're a fucking moron," you spat, your voice quivering with hurt.

His grip only tightened, leaving you to fear it might leave bruises. Pushing his chair back forcefully, he pinned you against the wall, your head colliding with the unyielding surface. He glared at you, eyes filled with venom and hatred, before uttering words he would soon regret. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you mustered up the strength to fight back.

"Maybe if you weren't such a bitch about it, I'd be interested in you. I'd be happier if I never met you in the first place. You're always so whiny and needy, seeking attention and incapable of respecting that I have work and obligations behind my back... fucking whore."

Only after the words had escaped his lips did he realize just how far he had gone. The hurt look on your face and the gaze in your eyes served as painful reminders of his grievous error. You pushed him away, fleeing from the room while he stood there, swallowed by a sea of remorse. He called out to you, his voice filled with desperation, watching as you ran down the hallway.

"Mi... Mi vida, please, I am sorry..."

Unfortunately for him, some wounds cannot be healed with a simple apology. Rudy groaned in frustration, clutching his fist and striking the wall, the pain in his knuckles fading in comparison to the guilt that washed over him. He knew he hadn't been providing you with enough love and attention, and he felt terrible about it, but it seemed as though he couldn't do anything to change the path they were on. Caught between the potential loss of his job or losing you, fate had already made its decision.

To be continued...?

note: this isn't Rudy's typical behavior,i know. I wanted to write something different and out of his charachter but i feel like i messed up a little. Anyway, this one isn't as angst as my others are. I hope y'all like it, i kinda had something different in mind, the emotional neglect can be different than how i portrayed it, and what I've written might not be considered as so. Be kind please, i am still not as good and i this is me trying :')

ily <3 shall i write a comfort one where he apologizes ?

[writing-whump]

Heart

Isaiah was happy. So very happy he could burst.

That's why, when he woke up on Sunday with a squeezing sensation around his chest, he decidedly ignored it. There was no way he was going to let any of that ruin the happiness he found.

He managed incredible things this year. A pack, sort of a balance between his duties and job, his girl, his brothers...everything was working out. Better than he planned, better than he hoped.

Isaiah was healed. The heart troubles started when he left the Wolfson pack—when the years of his father's abuse and damage to his shadow tore through once he was somewhat safe—but that was over now. The issues were fixed, the hurts were mended, the wrongs were righted.

His soul was healed. There was no reason why his shadow or his heart should be giving him any trouble.

It was very early in the morning, but Isaiah liked to wake up that soon. He could make breakfast, enjoy the peaceful morning, get himself ready before turning his attention to everyone else.

So he was feeling a little lethargic today. Nothing specifically wrong or hurting, just this strange general feeling of malaise, like he was coming down with something. Simple fatigue he could shake off.

Maybe he was a little lightheaded as he was making coffee. There was this mild tingling in his jaw and arms, like tiny needles prickling him there.

Isaiah decided he better shake that off before anyone noticed. How lucky was he that he always managed to get through his heart episodes without Seline noticing? It was the key to happiness.

Cause he was going to fix it. Himself. By being happy.

"You are awake early," Matthew greeted him with a yawn, hair all ruffled from sleep.

Isaiah put the freshly made coffee on the table, tugging at the collar of his shirt. "I'm glad you are taking a break from running. Feeling better again? You can go back to sleep."

Matthew huffed at him but ended up on the couch, eyes still sleepy and gluing together. "Where are you going? So dressed up and ready."

Isaiah shrugged. "I think I'll go for a quick walk before Seline wakes up and stop by the store and make Tiramisu. We need cakes that don't need to be baked in this heat."

Matthew shook his head at him. "Aren't you overdoing it a little?"

"But it's so fun," Isaiah said with a giant smile spilling on his face. "Be right back."

Isaiah left quickly after, walking briskly. The streets were still empty this early on Sundays, it felt like he was the only resident in a town of ghosts. He relished the quiet.

And the fresh air. Surely this fatigue or what it was could be shaken off.

Isaiah didn't want to slow down, but once he reached the big shopping mall, he was panting for breath. Maybe he was the one who should start running. Workouts and sparring were good, but he was not supposed to be out of breath this quickly.

Ah whatever. He would shop, make the cake. It was a good excuse to invite Hector and Arnie over as well. Having them all in one place, making them closer could be fun.

The needle prickles were growing more intense as he reached the inside. Isaiah braced against the wall for a moment, catching his breath. What was with the tingling? He was also covered in sweat, though it wasn't hot yet. Come on, now. He wasn't walking that fast.

Everything was fine. He was fine. There hadn't been a happier phase in his life. It couldn't be more alright than it was.

Then why was his chest squeezing and heart flipping like something terrible was about to happen?

Isaiah made a few more steps towards the glass railing with the view of the underground floor with the shops. The world was coming in and out of focus, black spots dancing in his vision. Like he was about to pass out.

He hadn't eaten yet; he had just had some coffee. It was hunger. Or he was exhausted; that should be it. His stomach was clenching like a fist was in his insides, pulling it in. Heartburn from yesterday?

It was fine. He was fine.

His left arm, jaw and neck were prickling. A persistent ache demanding his attention. A sudden retch had him pushing away from the railing.

He was fine.

Though maybe he should find a bathroom first. Something wasn't agreeing from yesterday. That was it.

He stumbled towards the public bathrooms and locked himself inside the stall. Sweat was covering his face, his arms, his neck, he was overflowing with it. His chest felt constricted like he couldn't get enough air in. Not around whatever the big rock was, that was currently crushing his ribcage.

Isaiah doubled over. His limbs were shaking so much he had to kneel on the floor, retching towards the toilet. The coffee came up with a violent splash.

He couldn't breathe. He grabbed at his shirt, ripping the buttons away to free his neck up. Clutched at the left side of his chest, where his heart was beating at crazy speed along his harsh breathing. The prickling turned to pain, shooting up from his chest towards his back, his arms.

He retched again. His chest was being squashed, his ribs turning into dust. The sense of impending doom worsened, blood rushing in his ears.

Not now. Please, not now. He was happy, he didn't have time for this.

People died because they succumbed. He had read about experiments with prisoners who were told they had poison applied to their veins although it was nothing toxic and died from believing it. He would let no such thing happen. He would will himself to fight back.

He would not lose this. Not now. Just not now.

His body sank under gravity towards the floor. He couldn't really feel it, he couldn't feel anything past the overwhelming pressure over his chest, unrelenting and all-consuming.

It had never felt this bad before.

The last thing he remembered was someone knocking at the door, asking if he was alright.

...

Isaiah was taking a long time with that shopping.

Seline woke up earlier, impatient to see him. She was so happy after everything from yesterday she couldn't wait. When he wasn't coming while she sat in the living room next to dozing Matthew, she even went up to change. Get all ready so they could make the cake together. Have breakfast on the balcony before it got too hot.

She ended up texting Isaiah where he was, but he didn't read it. Weird.

Then an unknown number appeared on her phone. Seline was tempted not to take it, but oh well. It would work as a distraction.

She took the call. Had to stand up while she listened and then leaned against the couch so suddenly she thought she would fall.

Isaiah Wolfson, yes? Emergency contact. Hospital. Can you come?

Seline didn't feel her lips or how she said she would be there soon.

Something about her tense voice must have woken Matthew up, because out of the blue he was standing too. Likely simply heard what was said in the phone.

He took her hand as he grabbed Isaiah's car keys. They were out of the apartment in the next ten seconds.

...

...blocked coronary artery...he regained consciousness in the ambulance...symptoms have been going on for several years...a condition called unstable angina...a type of chest pain caused by reduced blood flow to the heart...occurs when the arteries that supply blood to the heart—specifically the coronary arteries—are significantly narrowed or blocked by plaques...when they rupture, it leads to the formation of blood clots...

..without immediate intervention, the affected heart muscle begins to die, which is why this situation is so critical...

...stress and ongoing strain can aggravate the condition significantly...had several smaller episodes and cardiac arrests before, the tissue is scarred...

...performing an operation called angioplasty as we speak...

Seline was pretty sure she was dreaming. The guy in the white coat was blabbering on and on about symptoms and medications that will be needed to prevent heart attacks in the future and for managing pain.

"I have never seen such extensive damage on someone so young. And he is a shadow wolf too. I'm sorry, but we had to use silver instruments. His shadow healed our interventions, but not the blockage."

At this point, Seline wouldn't have been suprised if the guy sprouted wings and flied away. It would be just as likely as this.

Isaiah had a heart attack. At 25. At the mall. Just like that. Despite being healthy, a shadow wolf, undiagnosed with any heart conditions, never complaining about any kind of discomfort.

"But how...how?" Seline managed to say.

"It's common for coronary artery disease to progress gradually, often over many years, until a severe event like this happens. The good news is that with the operation we're doing, we can restore blood flow to the heart, and with the right medications and lifestyle changes, we can manage the condition going forward."

"So the cause..."

"We aren't exactly sure what is causing the unstable angina, just that it must have been developing for a long time to get to this stage. CAD is the most common underlying issue, but with him being a wolf...it's a very unique case. That is why we assume his shadow has to be damaged as well, or the stress wouldn't be able to leave such lasting marks on him."

"Right." Seline looked between the middle-aged doctor and Matthew standing by her side.

"It's not an uncommon problem. The operation is going well so far, almost at the end. We'll be able to tell you more in a few hours, but we are very positive right now."

Oh, they were positive. How reassuring.

"You are members of his pack, yes? How often did he mention this to you? Sometimes people brush off these things as minor. Has he been complaining about chest pain or discomfort more often recently? Did he ever mention any episodes of dizziness, nausea, or sweating? Do you know if he’s been under a lot of emotional strain lately?"

Seline stared at the doctor uncomprehendingly. Mention? Complain? Noticed? Huh?

Matthew cleared his throat. "It's been going on for some time. Couple of months, but not more often lately or anything."

Seline turned to stare at him.

"How often would you say?" The doctor asked casually, like he didn't notice the floor just shattered underneath them and that the planet just stopped in its tracks.

"Several times a month?" Matthew answered thoughtfully. "Usually from stress. Last time he had a fever it got a bit worse too, but..."

The doctor wrote something down. Asked a couple more questions. His voice faded in and out.

There were more promises happening that they would keep them updated, and more guesses about the estimated duration of the surgery.

Seline floated down the hall towards the chairs, completely numb. This could not be real.

Matthew sat down beside her. He was silent for a long minute.

"You knew?" Seline made herself say what was obvious.

Matthew looked at her, lips pressed together and nodded.

Seline mirrored the movement. "I see." Funny, despite the numbness, she knew exactly when her heart broke—right in that moment.

A flood of emotions followed. Shock. Disbelief. Betrayal. Shame. Another blast of betrayal. A profound sense of failure.

Pain, pain, pain.

She shifted away from Matthew, his knee next to hers feeling too close. Her hands wrapped around her chest as she shrank into herself.

"Seline, I-I'm sorry. He begged me not to tell you and he felt so humiliated as it was...you know how scared and irrational he gets about needing help- and I was worried that if I insisted, he wouldn't let me be there for him even for that bare minimum he did-"

Matthew reached for her shoulder and she flinched away.

He froze.

Seline stood up slowly, whole body turned away from him.

"Sel-" he whined.

"Right. I get it," she said, voice cold. "Leave me alone for a minute."

Of course she would be back. Compared to Isaiah dying on that table, to the treatment and medication he would need to be taking, to his recovery were her feelings entirely insignificant.

Even worse, they could be a burden right now. She couldn't let them stop her from doing what needed to be done. To not be there for him, when he needed her and Matt more than anytime before.

Did he need her though?

She walked down the hospital hall like a zombie until she reached the bathrooms. Braced against the sink, she watched her expression in the mirror.

There were things to be done. More than anything she needed him to survive. To be okay. Everything else could come later.

It didn't matter what they could have done to prevent it or what they haven't done. Or whose fault it was. What the cause was. It didn't matter now.

Seline just needed to put all those flooding emotions back. Cut them off. She could do to. She had done it many times.

It was harder this time. After she had let them out so consciously, after she let herself feel them, it was so much harder to put them back into boxes and forget.

Maybe for just a bit she could get some release so she could concentrate better. On the operation, on what Isaiah needed.

She went to the stall, locking herself up. At least the bathroom was quiet. Glad she chose a place by the window, she slid down the wall.

Hugging her knees to her chest, the first tears sprang to her eyes. Then sobs. Ugly and loud. She didn't hold them back. Just this once.

Cry and let go. Just so she could concentrate. Just this once.

The rest would come later.

[cherikdogfood]

5201314

The thing is, Erik loves Charles -- he really does. He just doesn't know how to say it.

Or, Erik wants Charles to know that he truly loves him. So he enacts a plan.

In honor of 520 (which is today!) I've written a short, self indulgent Cherik (modern AU) fic. Enjoy!

***

The thing is, Erik loves Charles -- he really does. He just doesn't know how to say it.

He knows a simple "I love you" or "Ich liebe dich" will do the job. Charles understands -- he always does, even if he's a terrible telepath and struggles to say the right words himself.

But that's the thing. Charles is a telepath, and he can practically broadcast his love for Erik from anywhere, anytime.

Erik can't do that. He could, technically, project his feelings towards Charles, but it's not enough. He knows it's not enough, he wants to do more.

He wants to show Charles that he loves him, that Charles is his one and only, that there would be no happiness without Charles... Charles is his soulmate, and Erik's love for him is like a burning flame -- passionate and all consuming.

There is no peace without Charles.

He wants, no, needs Charles to know that.

You're mine, Erik often thinks, as he lays in bed with Charles after a particularly rough bout of lovemaking. Charles always falls asleep first, curled against Erik, looking so pliant and gentle and content.

I'm yours too, you know, his mind also whispers.

Charles, of course, continues dreaming, his expression serene.

When Charles wakes, he will go about his day, being his usual confident, boisterous self. But Erik knows...

He knows that underneath it all, Charles questions himself, worries he isn't good enough for Erik, thinks he hasn't done enough for people like them.

Charles hides it well, but Erik knows better.

Charles knows and understands that Erik loves him, he just has a hard time believing it.

And Erik...

Erik never, never wants Charles to doubt them. Charles has no reason to be afraid.

So Erik does his best to show it, to show Charles that he does, in fact, love him.

Because it doesn't matter if the whole world knows that Erik Loves Charles if the person in question doesn't believe it.

So Erik does what he's good at: he makes a strategy, and he executes it perfectly (or as perfectly as it can be, anyway).

***

Erik's made plans already: he's done his research, marked the calendar, made arrangements, perfected his cooking skills, and bribed roped in a few people to help.

It started on a rather peculiar date, one that Charles wasn't expecting: 25th of January. Erik had crafted a metal spoon with his powers, carving a stylish M and X that were intertwined.

He gave it to Charles, aiming to do so nonchalantly, but his excitement must've been projecting because Charles laughed and asked him what this was for.

"It's just a gift, Charles," he huffed, and Charles just laughed at him fondly.

The next one was more obvious: 14th of February. Valentine's Day: Erik made chocolates, prepared a bouquet of roses, and wrote a love letter. Traditional romantic gestures, all for Charles.

Charles was happy, of course, practically glowing, and his students were pleased to find they had less homework that week.

Erik even prepared a candlelight dinner for the two of them, although they ended up eating less and making out instead, it was perfect.

After that day, Charles thought that was it.

He was wrong -- very, very wrong.

On the 12th of March, Erik dragged Charles away from Hank and his lab and brought him to a nearby river.

"Erik, you said it's late and I should rest, so... Why did you bring me here?" Charles had asked, blue eyes filled with fatigue.

Erik wanted to do nothing more than kiss his tiredness away, but he had a plan and he needed to stick to it, so he resisted.

"Come on Charles, look what I brought," he whispered. He brought out a delicate origami boat (he had asked Raven to teach him to make one), a candle, and a lighter.

"Bloody hell, Erik, if you brought me here to commit arson in the middle of the night, I swear--"

The rest of Charles' words were cut off by Erik, who planted his lips on Charles' and was licking and nipping and kissing him senseless. Charles whimpered when Erik broke the kiss, and Erik had to remind himself what he was doing.

"I wanted us to do this," he smiled and lit the candle, placing it tentatively on the boat before setting it on the water.

"Why are we doing this, Erik?"

"Hush, Liebling, just hurry and make a wish."

Charles' eyes fluttered close, clearly concentrating on his wish, and Erik whispered, "I love you."

He knew Charles heard him because in the next second, Charles opened his eyes and pounced on him.

Erik had to use all his willpower to not fuck Charles right then and there.

The next day, Charles woke up to find all his handkerchiefs replaced, the new ones embroidered, albeit rather clumsily, with hearts.

Merely two days later, Charles opened the fridge and was greeted with an array of blinding white: white chocolate, marshmallows, mint candies, fresh milk, white mochis, vanilla ice cream, leeks, cauliflowers, coconuts and white dragon fruit.

Charles was so taken aback that he almost thought a robber had replaced all their food with... these...

Erik had to reassure him that yes, this was his doing, and no, he wasn't being blackmailed by Raven or Logan into doing this (Erik had been offended that Charles thought Logan of all people could manage to blackmail him. That guy had a metal skeleton...).

Even the flowers in their house had been replaced with white lilies, making Charles shake his head in confusion.

"The things you do, Erik... Sometimes I don't understand..."

In April, Charles wasn't too surprised when Erik took him out to dance and opened his favorite wine and brought him to watch the sunset. It was, after all, a perfect recreation of their first date, three years ago.

Now, on the 20th of May, Erik was sweating as he put on his turtleneck, the one that made Charles' eyes light up and highlighted his slim waist, and checked himself in the mirror.

Everything looked fine... Erik swallowed and calmed the heart that threatened to leap out of his chest.

Everything would be fine.

First, he stopped at the flower shop and picked up the bouquet of roses he had pre-ordered.

Then, he made his way to the address he had sent to Charles. It was a luxurious hotel, one that was far enough from Westchester so that they would not be disturbed by their students.

(Erik had had enough of students, young and old, who had, intentionally or otherwise, cock-blocked him and Charles on multiple occasions).

When he arrived in their room, he noticed the tell-tale metal of Charles' watch and smiled.

"Liebling," he smiled, kissing Charles by way of greeting.

"Erik," Charles smiled. "What's the special occasion? No white food this time?" He teases.

Erik grins. "No. I just wanted to give you this."

He takes out a piece of metal and watches as Charles touches it gently. It's a bracelet of sorts, smooth and elegant and fine edges, and when Charles turns to see the inside, his breath hitches.

520.

Erik had carved those three numbers with the utmost care.

For a moment, Charles just stares, and Erik wonders if his ideas were wrong, all this time, and maybe he should--

"Five two one," Charles says suddenly.

Erik freezes.

"Did I say that right? Or should it be five twenty-one?" Charles muses.

Erik blinks, trying to formulate words, to say something, anything...

"521," Charles repeats, and he reaches out to cup Erik's face gently.

"Erik?"

"How do you know?" Erik finally chokes out, too overwhelmed with emotion.

"What?"

"How do you know, what that means?" He asks again.

"Ah... Charles bites his lip sheepishly. "Let's just say, one of your partner-in-crime accidentally thought too loud..."

Erik grits his teeth. It was definitely Raven, or Hank, or maybe even Jubilee... He shouldn't have asked them to help...

"I saw your notes yesterday, Erik," Charles continues, chewing his bottom lip, "I'm sorry, I know this was all meant to be a surprise, but I couldn't help myself..."

"So... You know everything?" Erik asks.

"Yes, I do, well, I think that day when you gave me all that white stuff, it was White Day in Japan, right? Some sort of Valentine's day..."

Erik nods. 14th of March, exactly one month after the official Valentine's Day, is the Japanese "White Day", where men give their beloved white things to show their love.

Erik has no idea why it has to be white, but it doesn't matter. He loves Charles anyway.

"I wore a white suit that day, remember?" Erik mutters.

Charles' eyes widen and his lips curl into a smile.

"So... You were practically giving yourself to me that day?"

Erik nods and adds, "I'm always yours, you know."

Charles smiles.

"And that day when you gave me a metal spoon," Charles continues, "It was apparently some kind of Welsh Valentine's Day, I think?"

Erik nods. 25th of January, the Welsh Valentine's Day -- usually lovers would give each other hand-crafted wooden spoons, but Erik made one out of metal instead.

(This was definitely not to show off his powers in front of Charles).

"And... On the 12th of March, that day you brought me to the river..."

"The Slovenians' version of Valentine's Day, of sorts," Erik my mumbles. Apparently it was a tradition for children to light a candle in boats and watch it float down the river, and even though they weren't children, Erik thought it was still pretty romantic.

"As for today..." Charles mutters.

"It's five-twenty," Erik looks at Charles gently.

Charles read his notes, so he should understand what it means.

"Five twenty... When you say it in Chinese, it sounds like you're saying I love you, am I right?" Charles says, voice growing softer.

"Yeah."

Charles is silent, looking at Erik with indescribable emotion in his eyes. Erik uses the opportunity to snake an arm around Charles' waist and tug him closer.

"So..." Erik is the first to break the silence.

"Do you really know what 521 means?" He asks.

Charles blushes and nods, "Hm. 520 means I love you, and 521 means I do or I'm willing. Something like that?"

Erik breaks into a shark-like smile.

"That's right, Liebling."

Charles' eyes are wet with unshed tears.

"Erik, I love you," he whispers, voice choking with emotion.

Erik plants a kiss on his forehead.

"I love you too, Liebling. But let's say it properly, okay? Today is a special date after all."

Charles nuzzles closer to Erik and hums in reply.

"520, Charles," Erik says. I love you.

"521, Erik." I do too.

"Is that a promise, Charles?" Erik teases.

"You'll have to formally propose first before I actually say I do, Erik," Charles huffs exasperatedly.

"But yes," Charles gaze softens. "I'm always willing to be yours."

Erik can't stop himself from smiling. "I love you, Charles," he says, as he always does.

"I know," Charles whispers.

And this time, Erik knows he means it.

(And if there ever comes a day when Charles doubts it, then Erik will be sure to make a plan and convince Charles that yes, he truly does love him, very, very much.)

***

#made by cherikdogfood

[rainforestakiie]

omega lucifer x omega adam part 05! so excited! the fall in next part!

lucifer and adam meets eve again! and she's after a lot more then just learning about being an omega! also, adam sees why lucifer is considered to be one of the most fearful angels~

Nest of the Damned (Omegaverse Omega/Omega) Part 01. Part 02. Part 03. Part 04. Part 05. Extra 01.

Full Version

Their heat lasted nearly two weeks, a period marked by sheer luck and chance. Their minds cleared only for brief intervals, just long enough to realise their need for sustenance. In those fleeting moments, they would dart out of their nest, driven by desperation, to hastily gather whatever they could find. If Lucifer wasn’t the one jolting awake, it was Adam, each taking turns to hurriedly scavenge for food and water. Their intense bond made it unbearable to be apart, compelling them to grab the first things they saw.

At last, their heat subsided, leaving the two Omegas lying side by side in exhaustion. Their bodies were spent, burning, and tingling after countless hours of unrelenting passion. Neither could move much, their fingers barely entwined as they lay on their backs, breathing heavily and gazing up at the delicate purple and pink flowers above them.

“Are…” Lucifer licked his swollen, sore lips. His pale skin was adorned with marks of love and passion. “Are you okay?”

Adam didn’t respond immediately. His body was a mirror image of Lucifer’s. “Hmm, I feel… happy? But also… sore.”

“I’m happy too,” the angel sighed. Summoning all the remaining strength within him, Lucifer squeezed Adam’s hand, feeling a surge of pride at this small act.

Sniffling, Adam’s eyelids began to droop. Fatigue took hold, and he found himself drifting off, only to force himself awake again. "Luci, what was that? Why did we feel like that?"

Lucifer sucked in his lips, his cheeks puffing up like a chipmunk’s. "I... I don't know... that’s never happened to me before."

"Was it because we ate the apple?" Adam asked, his voice becoming soft and low. "Was it our punishment from God?"

Lucifer didn't want to agree, he really didn't. But considering the sudden burst of heat and the overwhelming need for passion was something new, and it had occurred immediately after they ate the apple of knowledge, the coincidence seemed too likely to be dismissed.

"It's likely..." he mumbled quietly, his eyes fluttering half-lidded. "It wasn't bad, was it?"

"Well... it hurt when we weren't... you know," Adam replied. He squirmed a little, trying to roll onto his side. His face scrunched up from the aches and pains that wracked his body. It wasn't a terrible pain; it was almost enjoyable. "What about you? How do you feel?"

Seeing Adam's successful attempt to roll onto his side, despite feeling so exhausted and spent, Lucifer felt compelled to do the same. It took him longer, hindered by his numb wings, but he eventually managed to meet Adam's gaze.

"I felt the same way. It was like we were being burned from the inside out," Lucifer said thoughtfully.

"A heat," Adam mused. "Like the animals in the summer."

Lucifer raised a weak hand to brush Adam's thick hair out of his face, his fingers caressing along Adam's cheeks. He smiled as Adam closed his eyes and leaned into the touch. "Are you mad at me?"

"About the apple?" the human Omega questioned softly. "A little."

"I'm sorry," Lucifer murmured, his voice laced with deep remorse. “I know it was wrong, but I just…I just wanted to heal you. To undo the damage that was done. It was my fault you got hurt, because I was selfish and arrogant.”

With a tender hum, Adam leaned forward, their faces touching as he nuzzled Lucifer with a comforting purr. His hands traced along Lucifer’s pale skin, gently caressing his mating glands. Lucifer shuddered from the touch, causing Adam’s emerald eyes to light up with affection.

“I forgive you,” Adam whispered softly, a gentle rumble emanating from his throat. “I know you did it for me. The heat was frightening, but it was bearable because of you, because I had you by my side. That means everything to me. You didn’t leave me alone.”

Lucifer's own rumble echoed Adam’s, and the Archangel enveloped them both in his wings once more. He pressed their aching bodies together, burying his face into Adam’s shoulder. Slowly, tremors coursed through Lucifer as his hands shifted from tense to gentle.

“Why are you crying?” Adam asked softly, slipping his arms around the Angel. His hands moved soothingly up and down Lucifer’s back, while the other hand gently stroked the back of Lucifer’s head, fingers running through the soft golden curls. “Were you really worried I would be angry at you?”

"Of course," Lucifer whimpered, tightening his embrace. He sniffled, his eyes glistening with unshed tears as he hiccuped painfully. "I thought...thought you might be furious with me, you might even hate me."

"Why would you think that?" Adam cooed softly.

Lucifer pulled back to meet Adam's gaze. His sapphire blue eyes were glassy and watery, tears gathering at the corners. "Because I'm a bad person, Adam! I'm a terrible, terrible person, an awful Angel! It's my fault you got hurt! I was too selfish! I didn’t want Lilith to see how beautiful you are and take you away! I wanted you to be my Omega, and the thought of her wanting you broke me! I couldn't stand seeing you with someone else!"

"Why would you think Lilith would ever want to be with me?" Adam tilted his head in curiosity. "Lilith hates me. From the very beginning, from the moment she was created, she looked at me with disdain. She was never kind to me, never enjoyed my company. Lilith went out of her way to avoid me long before you started spending time with her. Lilith was never nice to me."

Lucifer's bottom lip quivered, and he shook his head furiously. "You just don't understand. You just don't see yourself the way I do. Adam, you're the most gorgeous Omega I've ever seen! Lilith would have noticed eventually, and it hurt to think of her noticing...it hurt to think of you both noticing each other."

"You... were made for one another... and I..." Lucifer's face scrunched up, his chest aching. "You and Lilith were destined to be together, to be the parents of humanity, and I'm just an Angel. I wasn't made for you, but I wish I was. I wish I was so very badly, and I..."

Cupping Lucifer's blue cheek, Adam caressed the soft flesh with a tender kiss. "But you're wrong. We were made for each other."

"But..." Lucifer whimpered.

"Luci, it was just you and me at the beginning, remember?" Adam said lovingly. "Before Lilith's creation, it was just us. God created both you and me; Lilith was different, wasn't she?"

Nodding slowly, Lucifer snuggled in closer, his panic and fear beginning to settle. "Lilith was created by us, the Angels. Or well, Uriel, really, with Michael and Sera overseeing."

"Exactly!" Adam squealed adorably. He smothered Lucifer's face in butterfly kisses, making his loving Omega mate giggle. "God created us, so he made us for each other. There's a difference."

"I still shouldn't have made Lilith believe we were going to mate..." Lucifer sighed, returning the butterfly kisses just as sweetly. "It's my fault she hurt you. Because I tricked her, I wanted to make sure she would never desire you, so I made sure she never looked your way. In doing that... she hurt you because I manipulated her."

"Do you feel sorry for doing that to her?" Adam asked softly.

Lucifer looked away shamefully. "No, I don't. I'm sorry she hurt you. I'm so, so sorry you got hurt because of my actions. That's what I regret. But I don't regret tricking her to have you. I would do it again if I had to."

"At least you're honest," Adam teased, a soft blush on his cheeks. Lucifer would really do anything to be with him? It warmed his heart. "I don't hate you at all, Luci. I love you. I love you more than anything. I could never hate you. Never."

A rumbling purr of happiness escaped Lucifer. "You forgive me for tricking you into eating the apple?"

"I knew you tricked me!" Adam gasped before giggling in amusement. "You're really good at doing that."

Raising an eyebrow, Lucifer tilted his head. "I'm good at manipulating to get my way?"

"Yes," the human Omega snorted. His expression was more than adorable, it was something new that Lucifer would never forget. "I guess it's your talent."

Lucifer was unsure of what to say, unsure if it was a good thing or not. But still, his chest bubbled with warmth from how sweet and beautiful Adam was. He immediately kissed him, unable to stop himself. Maybe it was a good thing his mate appreciated his... cheekiness? Yes, it was his cheekiness. 

Even if Lucifer did enjoy being a snake…

“I love you, even the tricks and words you use!” Adam added with a laugh. “I don’t care if you do that that thing - manipulating, I love you anyway~”

~#~

Their heats became a cherished routine, a rhythmic dance that intertwined their souls every three months. At first, it was a bit overwhelming, but the experience was comforting and intimate. It was best when they nestled in their shared sanctuary, a cocoon of comfort and warmth. The intensity of their connection grew with each cycle, their bond strengthening like an unbreakable thread.

Lucifer had given him the apple, hoping to undo the damage Lilith had inflicted. Although the apple hadn't fully healed Adam—he still bore the nasty scar, and his glands hadn't regrown—he had gained something new. Adam still couldn't release his own scent or detect Lucifer's Omega scent, but he could feel it. He could sense Lucifer's presence, like butterflies dancing across his skin. Even when Lucifer wasn't nearby, Adam felt his essence. He might have lost parts of his inner Omega, but he discovered new aspects that were still unfolding.

A giggle escaped Adam as his skin tingled from another sweet wave of sensation, akin to wings caressing him, even though Lucifer's wings were nowhere near. It felt like being cuddled by feathers, a sensation that brought a bright smile to Adam's face. His emerald eyes sparkled as he crawled closer to the slumbering Omega Archangel. Lucifer lay curled on his side, his soft wings spread across their nest, fluttering with each gentle snore.

He was so adorable.

Adam moved closer, sitting on his knees beside the sleeping Angel. He giggled again as Lucifer's Omega pheromones washed over him like delicate feathers. With tender fingers, Adam brushed the blonde curls from Lucifer's face. A soft blush bloomed on Lucifer's cheeks, and while Adam could feel Lucifer's Omega scent, he wondered if Lucifer could sense his unscented pheromones.

With a loving touch, Adam leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to Lucifer’s rosy cheek. He then whispered, "I wonder if you can feel me, the way I feel you." His heart swelled with affection, knowing that even without a scent, their bond was palpable, a beautiful testament to their unbreakable connection.

"You make me happy. Even if there were rough patches, you make me so happy. I don't understand how I can feel so much joy; it's like my heart is going to burst," Adam whispered, careful not to disturb Lucifer's sleep. He touched his chest, feeling his heart pound. "I don't really understand everything I feel; there are so many things I don't know. But I'm not scared. I'm not scared because I'm with you, and you make me feel so happy..."

Lucifer made a soft sound in his sleep, humming gently as Adam continued to run his fingers through his soft blonde hair. Adam smiled down at him with such love that it physically hurt.

"And I'm sorry... I'm sorry you had to give up everything to be with me in Eden. It's not fair that you were punished just because we love each other. It's not fair you can never go home, back to Heaven." Adam bit his bottom lip. "It's not fair you lost your siblings because you wanted to be with me... but I'm still happy, even though you lost everything. I-I'm s-still happy I get to be with you..."

Adam sniffed and rubbed his eyes with his other hand. "That makes me sound selfish, doesn't it? I'm selfish and awful because I am glad you're down here with me and not up there. I hated it when you would leave me to go back to Heaven. I really hated that feeling of being left behind."

Did it make him awful? Did it make him terrible? Adam just wanted to be with Lucifer forever. The Archangel was his lover, his mate, his everything. And it hurt every time Lucifer had to return to Heaven. Adam really didn't like it when his mate left him behind. So he was happy when Lucifer was banished from Heaven because that meant they could stay together.

And that makes him a terrible person! He was so selfish!

Adam was broken from his sad thoughts by a sound. A branch snapping outside the purple blossoms hanging like a wall. His green eyes scanned the inside of the purple wisteria, gazing softly at the glittering sunlight shining between the petals. Adam shuffled on his knees, leaning forward with his head tilted to the left, straining his ears. After a while, when Adam didn't hear anything and Lucifer let out another adorable sneeze in his slumber, the Omega immediately returned to his loving mate.

Lucifer's wings fluttered in his sleep, appearing inviting. Adam was just about to crawl into the wings and snuggle up to sleep too, deciding to store his worrying thoughts away, when he heard another sound. This time it was much closer to their purple wisteria, and Adam sprung up with wide eyes.

He could see a shadow on the other side of the flower wall. Somebody was definitely outside!

Curiosity mixed with anxiety filled him. His hairs stood on end. Who would come close to their nest? Who would dare enter their domain? Fear began to rear its head, and Adam glanced towards Lucifer, wondering if he should wake up his mate. Adam would feel much safer with Lucifer at his side!

...but... but Lucifer needed to sleep. Adam didn't want to disturb his rest!

Inhaling deeply, Adam turned back to the purple flowers. His stomach churned as he made his decision. The human Omega climbed to his wobbly feet, beginning to approach the flowers, only to stop. Adam's emerald eyes flickered down on himself, gazing at his pale skin and feeling a deep blush spread across his cheeks in horrified realisation.

He was naked! He didn't want to walk around in front of somebody who wasn't Lucifer like this! It was the first time Adam had ever felt such embarrassment and horror. He tilted his head, eyes landing on the robe Lucifer had given him. His Angel hadn't taught him how to wear it yet, but Adam grabbed it, wrapping himself up in it. It was a bit of a struggle to position it similarly to how Lucifer wore his, but it would have to do! Adam was sure Lucifer would teach him later.

Adam ducked beneath the cascading blossoms of purple wisteria, their sweet fragrance enveloping him. He squinted his emerald eyes, peering into the lush expanse of the Garden of Eden. It didn’t take long for him to spot the figure prowling outside their sanctuary.

A woman.

She bore a striking resemblance to Lilith, but her thick red curls and large brown eyes set her apart. Her skin was kissed by a constellation of freckles. Although Adam couldn't catch her scent, he sensed her Omega nature. His stomach tightened, and he stiffened. Had she come to their nest because of Lucifer? Could she detect his pheromones?

The thought sent a shiver down his spine. Adam shuffled his feet, his hair standing on end as he glanced over his shoulder. The idea of someone taking his mate away filled him with dread.

"Um..." He turned back to the woman, awkwardly. "Why are you here?"

She jumped in surprise, a radiant smile spreading across her lips. "I wanted to see you."

"Why?" Adam blinked, confused.

"Because you're an Omega, like me," she said, stepping forward cautiously. "I wanted to meet the other Omegas of Eden. Lilith, my Alpha, told me about you and your mate."

Adam's eyes narrowed, his skin prickling at the mention of Lilith. So, this woman was his replacement. Sera had created a new Omega for Lilith. "You shouldn’t be here."

"But I just wanted to talk to you." The woman's smile faltered, her brows knitting together in sadness. "I don’t understand why that’s a bad thing."

"You—you should leave," Adam forced out, his voice wavering between compassion and protectiveness. This was their sanctuary, their nest, and this woman was an outsider. An Omega no less. It wasn't safe for her to be in their domain. "Leave," he repeated, his voice gaining strength only to falter slightly. "P-please."

The female Omega blinked at him, a myriad of emotions flickering across her face. Some expressions were foreign to Adam, leaving him puzzled. Suddenly, her brown eyes seemed to light up with understanding, and she tilted her head, gazing thoughtfully at him.

"You don't smell that, do you?" she asked abruptly. "Is it the same reason why I can smell you?"

Adam's spine stiffened, his posture straightening as he tried to keep his voice steady and firm, masking his nervousness under her penetrating gaze. "T-that's something personal. It doesn't—it has nothing to do with you, s-so please just leave now. I don't—I don't like that you're here, so close to my nest."

"Nest!" she exclaimed suddenly, stepping forward once more. She placed a hand over her chest, her expression filled with awe. "What's a nest? And why does my heart flutter at the mention of a nest? Do you have one? Can I see it?"

"N-no," Adam inhaled deeply, trying to steady his racing heart. "No, that's private. You—nobody is allowed to see an Omega's nest unless invited by the Omega."

"You're an Omega," the woman pointed out with a soft chuckle. "You won't invite me?"

Adam's mouth fell slack as he shook his head. "No, I won't invite you into my nest. It's a private, intimate thing. Outsiders aren't allowed in."

"I'm an outsider?" the female Omega asked with a hint of amusement. "Me?"

"Yes," Adam nodded, his fingers nervously tangling in the white robe he wore. "So leave now, please and thank you."

Instead of leaving, the woman tilted her head in curiosity. "What is that?" she asked, gesturing to the white robe. "Why do you hide yourself under it? Lilith and I don’t have those things. What are they for?"

Adam glanced down at his robe, its fabric soft and flowing around him. "It's... It gives me comfort and protection. We all have our own ways of feeling safe."

The red-haired Omega continued to gaze at Adam, her eyes boring into him with an intensity that made him want to turn and flee. The mere thought of her invading his nest, disrupting the sanctuary he and Lucifer had painstakingly created, was horrifying. It was too much for him to back down and let her pass. Adam's heart raced, the pulse pounding in his ears. He also couldn't bear the thought of her seeing Lucifer as he was, sleeping peacefully in the nude.

"Lilith told me about you," she said softly. "She said you couldn't be trusted. A bad Omega, one who would go out of their way to take what doesn't belong to them."

Adam's face contorted in pain, his lips trembling as he exhaled softly. "Lilith...doesn't like me. She has never liked me. It's understandable she would say those things, considering her feelings."

"Why doesn't she like you?" the woman asked.

"I don't know," Adam shrugged, glancing away. "I guess I annoyed her too much. I never took anything that belonged to her. She was told 'no.' That should have been enough, that should have ended the...disagreement."

The female Omega fell silent again, her eyebrows furrowing in thought, her lips curling crookedly. Adam continued to watch her, hoping she had learned enough and would leave, but she remained standing before him with no intention of departing.

"You're mated to another Omega, aren't you?" she finally asked, making Adam sigh. "Lilith said that was wrong. Was that a disagreement? She claimed you took away her mate, that before I was created, she had a mate you tricked and lured away."

"She's wrong," Adam said, his voice trembling. He bit his bottom lip and clenched his hands together. "It's not about whether mating with this person is wrong, it's about being with the person who makes you happy, who makes you feel loved. My mate and I, we were already close before Lilith was made. It was us from the beginning...and..."

Adam paused to steady himself. He raised his apple-green eyes to meet the woman. "And you can't claim ownership over a person. Nobody can. That's cruel and a horrible thing to do. Nobody belongs to anybody, we're all free."

"Free..." she whispered in awe. "Nobody can own somebody?"

Adam nodded firmly. "That's right. Lilith never had ownership over my mate. He might have been misguided in some of his actions, but he never approached her with the intention to mate. The moment he realised what she wanted, he told her 'no.' It was Lilith who wouldn't accept that."

"No means no, in every way," Adam stated firmly. "You can't force somebody to love you. You can't force somebody to care for you. You can't force somebody to mate with you. You can't compel someone to be with you for the rest of their life."

The female Omega opened her mouth but then shut it again. Her eyes grew glassy, her pupils dilating. Her crimson curls shimmered in the sunlight of Eden. "No means no. No matter what. You can't force somebody to love you. To mate with you."

Adam tilted his head innocently. "Are you happy?"

"What?" She jumped, startled.

"Are you happy with Lilith?" Adam asked. "Is she being nice to you?"

The Omega didn't answer immediately. She appeared to be genuinely considering Adam's words, her face pinching uncomfortably. "Happy? I...I want to be happy. Why does it matter if I'm happy or not? I don't understand."

"Of course it matters if you're happy. My mate makes me extremely happy. I'm the happiest when I am with him," Adam explained as softly and tenderly as possible. His chest fluttered with warmth at the thought of his beloved mate. Lucifer always made him happy; even when he was sad, Lucifer would cheer him up with ease. "You mate for love, nothing else. There should be no strings attached. Love and happiness are the two most important things in a mating courtship. Are you happy with Lilith? Does she treat you kindly? Do you love each other?"

"I care about her greatly..." the other whispered. Finally, thank God, she took a step back. Her amber eyes lowered as she chewed her cherry-red bottom lip. "I'm not sure what love is, but I care about Lilith so much. I don't know if...if she cares about me too. She does take care of me, she makes sure I'm fed and that I am comfortable. Lilith has been nice to me; she has never been mean, but cold. She has been cold to me at times."

It sounded better than his own relationship with Lilith. The Alpha had never taken care of him. She had never treated him kindly or gone out of her way to ensure he was comfortable. Maybe there was a chance at happiness for her with this new Omega. His replacement...but Adam felt no bitterness towards her at all. He just hoped for the best.

Adam was in love with his best friend. He had mated with his closest friend. He was happy with his mate. He wanted Lilith to find the same with her own mate. This female Omega, meant to be Adam's replacement, could be just that for Lilith...and then...maybe she would stop blaming him for Lucifer choosing him.

"What's your name?" the female Omega asked suddenly. "I'm named Eve."

"O-Oh, I'm Adam," he said sheepishly, nodding.

"I-I should head back now," Eve said, taking another step back. Her shiny brown eyes seemed much brighter than before, and Adam wondered if he had been the cause of the change. "I don't want Lilith to worry. I have been gone too long. I should head back to her now..."

Adam awkwardly waved. "That's a good idea."

"You know..." Eve paused as she began to turn away. "You're not what I thought you would be. I was expecting something else, but I guess there's a lot more to question than just the Angels' rules and restrictions."

Blinking in confusion, Adam raised an eyebrow. What did she think he would be like? What rules and restrictions was Eve talking about? Had he changed from what he was? That was possible!

"Could it have been the apple?" he mused softly to himself.

Eve perked up at the words. "Apple?"

"O-Oh, it's nothing—nothing! Pretend I didn't say anything!" Adam hurriedly replied.

The other Omega gave a small, not fully convinced nod before she turned completely around and began making her way back down to the forest. Adam waited until she was fully out of sight before spinning to face the purple wisteria. He leaned towards the soft indigo blossoms, inhaling their gentle fragrance. He inched forward, gently brushing his fingertips across the petals before finally ducking back underneath. He slipped back inside, where his nest and mate were waiting.

...where his mate was wide awake and sitting up, staring at Adam the moment he slipped through the hanging flowers.

"Luci!" Adam squealed in happiness. "You're awake! You're supposed to be resting!"

Automatically, Lucifer's arms reached for the human, his blue eyes shining like diamonds as Adam wasted no time throwing himself into a hug. Their arms embraced one another tightly. Adam nuzzled his face into Lucifer's neck with a purr, immediately feeling ten times better now that he was in Lucifer's arms.

"You were so patient with her," Lucifer murmured softly, returning Adam's rumbling purr with his own. His large white wings unfolded and cocooned around them. "I would have been less understanding."

Tilting his head back to meet Lucifer's eyes, Adam hummed. "She was too close."

"Yes, she came too close to our nest. She should not have done that. I gave her a warning when I saw her entering our domain the other day." Lucifer sighed, resting his forehead against Adam's. "But you were so good with her and kept your boundaries in place. I'm so proud of you."

A laugh escaped Adam, and he beamed in return. "She was made as my replacement."

"You can never be replaced," Lucifer grunted with a snort. "Perhaps as the mother of humanity, but you can't be replaced in general. You're one of a kind."

The two shared a loving kiss after the statement. Adam giggled as his arms looped around the Angel's neck. Lucifer's own hands brushed along the white robe Adam had hastily tied around himself, an amused grin taking over his lips—he'd have to teach Adam how to wear it correctly.

"But it sounds like their relationship is a good one," Lucifer spoke while pressing more kisses across Adam's face, down his throat, and to his shoulders, where Lucifer began to scent him. Granted, he knew Adam couldn't smell his pheromones, but Adam could feel them! "Sure, it is only the beginning of a relationship. It's fragile, but it sounds like Lilith and Eve are building a healthy one."

Purring, Adam pressed himself back against Lucifer. His eyes grew glassy as he felt Lucifer's Omega scent washing over his skin in ways he had never felt before. Adam sighed, resting his head against Lucifer's shoulder. "I just want them to be happy. I want us to be happy."

"They will be, and we will be," Lucifer promised, cuddling Adam once again. "I’m sure we will all be happy."

Adam smiled, pressing a kiss to Lucifer’s exposed shoulder. His emerald eyes caught sight of the yellow apple still lying just on the edge of their nest. It hadn't been touched or moved since they had shared a bite months ago.

Swallowing thickly, Adam felt an inexplicable worry gnawing at him. It was as if he had made a mistake, but he couldn't pinpoint what it was. He tried to think more about it, but his beautiful and stunning mate quickly regained his attention.

Another laugh escaped Adam as he fell back onto their nest. Lucifer moved above him, his blue eyes shimmering with pure love and delight. The two were so madly in love with one another and their connection only grew stronger as time passed.

~#~

Adam hummed softly, his fingers gliding through Lucifer's wings with a reverent touch. His eyes were sharp, discerning the worn feathers with precision before gently removing them, allowing the new, vibrant ones to flourish. The feathers came out effortlessly, needing no force, as if they were whispering secrets as they fell. The human Omega knelt at Lucifer's right side, tending to the inner wing with meticulous care, while Lucifer focused on his left, bending it inward with a slow, deliberate motion.

Lucifer's six vast wings made the task arduous and time-consuming, a process that stretched over hours for both. Alone, it had taken Lucifer twice as long. Despite Lucifer's insistence that Adam wasn't obliged to help, the endearing human eagerly seized any opportunity to touch the angel's delicate wings. Adam found an unexpected joy in grooming Lucifer's feathers, an act that tethered him closer to the ethereal being.

A sudden giggle escaped Adam when Lucifer's upper right wing shifted, the tip of its feathers brushing against his neck with deliberate intent. Adam glanced at his mate, seeing Lucifer still absorbed in his task. Dismissing it as an accident, Adam returned to his work, only to squeal in surprise as the feathers trailed from his neck to the small of his back, leaving a tingling path.

Startled, Adam snapped his head around, his eyes narrowing suspiciously at Lucifer. The angel met his gaze with a look of feigned innocence, a slight tilt of the head adding to the facade.

"Are you okay, Adam?" Lucifer asked, his voice honeyed and perhaps too sweet.

Adam hummed a response, nodding curtly. "Just peachy."

Lucifer's grin flashed, revealing pearly-white teeth before his blue eyes returned to the middle left wing in his hands. Adam continued to eye his lover suspiciously for a few moments before resuming his own task. But unlike before, when the top wing had merely brushed his neck and shoulder, Adam gasped sharply and jolted when a warm, wet tongue licked the back of his neck. A powerful shudder raced up his spine, making him sit up straight.

"Luci!" he squealed, his hand clamping over the scarring of his glands as he spun around, his face flushing hot.

"What~" Lucifer cooed, the picture of innocence. "I didn't do anything~"

"Sure you didn't." Adam pouted, his eyes gleaming with his own mischievous ideas. He shifted to get comfortable, fingers softly sliding across the feathers in his lap. His green eyes watched Lucifer from the corner of his vision, catching the archangel giggling to himself, his cheeks warming.

When Adam was certain Lucifer's attention was elsewhere, he twisted around and pressed a butterfly kiss against Lucifer's exposed mating glands. A startled yelp escaped Lucifer, his back arching as all six wings fluttered. His eyes widened as he clamped a hand over his neck, head snapping around to stare at Adam.

"What~" Adam echoed, shrugging innocently. "I'm not doing anything~"

"Oh really?" Lucifer teased, his voice a soft purr as he began to crawl forward with tantalising slowness. His delicate white wings arched elegantly, spreading over his back in a display of ethereal beauty. "You're not doing anything at all~"

Adam's face turned a brilliantly delicious shade of red. "Nope, nothing at all, and even if I did, you started it~"

"Ah! I started it, did I~" The Archangel's lips curved into a wide grin, revealing teeth as white as snowflakes. The sight made Adam's insides twist with delight. "If I started it, then I better finish it!"

A laughing squeal escaped Adam's throat as he fell backward. Lucifer pounced like a playful lion, even letting out a pretend roar. The two Omegas tumbled together in the nest, their giggles soon blossoming into full-blown laughter.

It was a perfect day. A day filled with love, joy, and the ever-deepening bond between two souls who grew closer with each passing second.

It was supposed to be a good day!

...until it wasn't...

A sparkling rock burst through the cascading purple blossoms of the wisteria, hitting the trunk of the beautiful tree before skittering across the ground. It rolled into their nest, coming to a stop right next to the two Omegas. They both tilted their heads, large eyes filled with confusion as they stared at the stone.

"A stone?" Adam asked, rolling onto his stomach and beginning to crawl towards it. He reached out a hand to touch the stone, but Lucifer practically climbed onto his back, pushing him away with protective urgency. His fluffy, feathered white wings folded over Adam like a shield.

Adam looked back with wide, apple-green eyes. "It's just a rock."

"You can never be too sure," Lucifer grunted, using the tip of his top right wing to brush against the stone.

When nothing happened, Adam flashed a smug grin. "See, it's just a stone! There's nothing dangerous or worrying about it! So let me pick it up~"

"No, nope." Lucifer flipped himself over Adam, hunching protectively above the rock. "You can never be too sure. It could be dangerous."

A snort escaped Adam, and he blushed when Lucifer gave him a stern look. Folding his arms under his head, he lay his chin on top of them, kicking his feet lightly in amusement. His emerald eyes sparkled with mischief, a warm smile playing on his lips.

"It's just a stone~" he sang again.

Lucifer's eyebrows twitched, and he shot Adam another look that sent his Omega giggling. With a sigh and a shake of his head, Lucifer wearily curled his fingers around the stone and finally picked it up. He rolled it over in the palm of his hand, gazing at its shiny, sparkly surface. His eyebrows rose as he studied it, realising it was one of the most beautiful stones he had ever seen.

Well, almost. It wasn't as beautiful as the stone Adam had found for him all those years ago, now lovingly woven into their nest. Lucifer often looked at that stone when he felt sad or lonely, finding solace in its presence when Adam wasn't around.

"It's..." Lucifer began, turning the stone over in his hand. It was pretty. Yes. Just pretty. It was nowhere near the beauty of the stones Adam had gifted him over the years. "Just a rock."

Adam released a laugh, perking up like a meerkat. "I told you! I win!"

"You win, huh?" the Archangel hummed, tightening his fingers around the rock and tilting his head towards Adam. His azure eyes sparkled with amusement as he turned towards him. "You win? And what do you win? What's your reward?"

"I get a reward?" Adam moved to his knees, meeting his mate halfway. His hand rose to cup Lucifer's cheek, and the Angel immediately leaned into the touch with a purr. Adam began to move closer, aiming for a loving kiss. Lucifer's eyes even began to close, expecting the kiss—only it never happened!

With a joyful cheer, Adam took the stone and pulled back, a smug smile on his lips as he looked at the bewildered Archangel. "I learned that from you~"

"Oh." Lucifer blinked in a daze. He glanced down at his empty hand and then back at Adam. "You learned it from me...that does seem like something I might have done."

"You did! You did it to me many times before!" Adam chirped, turning the stone over in his hand. "Don't you remember? It's how you always found out my secrets. I could never hide anything from you."

Lucifer felt a swell of pride for his adorable Omega using one of his tricks. He shrugged; his siblings didn't call him Eden's snake for nothing. Lucifer didn't care, really; he was just proud. So he crawled after Adam and playfully pushed himself into Adam's side, his head nuzzling into Adam's neck.

"It's just a rock," he grumbled. "Why are you so interested in it?"

"Because it came out of nowhere," Adam said, looking up at the trunk. He could see a small indent from the impact of the rock. "It was thrown at us. Who would throw it at our nest, Luci?"

Who would throw a rock at them? At their nest? Oh, it wasn’t a hard guess.

Lucifer's face darkened, his lips twisting into a harsh scowl. His eyes narrowed into a sharp glare. His wings shuddered, flaring out protectively on either side. Lucifer bit down on his bottom lip, tightening his arms around Adam as he stayed pressed against his Omega's side.

He sensed it this time and threw his right wing up, shoving Adam down just in time. The second rock flew over them and struck the trunk.

"Somebody who's going to regret it," he growled, baring his teeth as he twisted towards the direction the stones came from.

"Luci?" Adam poked his head out from behind the feathered wings. "Calm down, I'm sure they didn't mean any harm."

Adam crawled quickly after his mate, leaping onto Lucifer's back just as the Angel prepared to fly. A startled yelp escaped Lucifer as they both fell onto their stomachs. Hovering above the Angel, Adam moved a delicate hand to push the flowers aside, revealing the garden outside.

"Adam, why did you do that? It could be somebody dangerous outside!" Lucifer protested.

Squinting his eyes, Adam peeked out into the garden nervously. "It's only E-"

"The female Omega," the grumbling Angel interrupted. "I could smell her from here. It’s gross."

Blinking in curiosity, Adam cocked his head and glanced down at Lucifer. "Her name is Eve, and she smells bad?"

"Eve," Lucifer repeated with a scoff. "She smells like sour grapes. I hate grapes."

"Oh..." Adam licked his lips. He didn't know Lucifer disliked grapes. Adam made a mental note to avoid them in the future. "Well, she's outside. She must want to speak to us again."

"Why is she standing so far away?" Lucifer wondered suspiciously. His sharp eyes narrowed into slits.

With a grin, Adam kicked himself up and burst out of their nest. "She's respecting our boundaries! I told her she was too close last time!"

"Adam," Lucifer grunted, quickly following his Omega. "Wait, don’t get too close to her."

Eve waved as she noticed both of them. Her eyes sparkled with a star-like gleam as she saw Lucifer following Adam.

"Eve." Adam went to approach the other Omega, but Lucifer pulled him back. "What are you doing back here again?"

"I thought I told you not to come into our domain anymore," Lucifer huffed, settling himself next to Adam. The two immediately intertwined their hands, seeking comfort in each other. Eve's gaze dropped to their joined hands, eyes wide with wonder.

"I wanted to talk to you." Eve said. "You said I was too close to your nest last time."

"You're much too close to our nest and you throw rocks at us."

"How am I suppose to catch your attention when I want to talk to you?" Eve asked. "I'm not allowed to come close your nest. I thought this distance would do, does it not?"

Lucifer's lips twisted into a familiar sneer, ready to deliver the same cold reply, but Adam's hand tightened around his. Adam's glance, eyebrows raised in a silent plea of agreement, only deepened the Angel's scowl. Now Eve, the new intruder, had Adam's support. How exasperating. She might be another soul Lucifer would need to banish, just as he had with Lilith.

"If I stay ten feet away from your lair, will that suffice?" Eve's innocent smile only stoked Lucifer's irritation further.

"Yes—" Adam started eagerly.

"No," Lucifer growled, his tone dark and brooding. He practically sulked under the weight of Adam's imploring look that silently urged, 'please, be kind.' With a deep, reluctant sigh, Lucifer's shoulders slumped, and he shot Eve another withering glare. "Twenty feet."

"Alright, I can manage that!" she replied, her voice bright and cheerful, a stark contrast to the tense atmosphere.

"Also," Lucifer began, snatching the stone from Adam's other hand and holding it aloft. "Don't ever throw rocks at our nest again."

Eve caught the stone as he tossed it back, her hands clapping together around it. "Alright, sorry. I just didn't know how else to get your attention."

"Yeah, well, a simple 'hey!' would do," Lucifer muttered dryly.

Eve cocked her head, her amber eyes widening. "From over twenty feet away?"

"Then yell!" the angel snapped before settling himself once more as Adam squeezed his hand again. "What do you want? Why did you come out to us?"

A warm breeze whispered through the garden, tugging at the flowers, leaves, and grass. Eve's long red curls were caught in the wind, fluttering like a crimson banner. Her Omega scent mingled with the breeze, and Lucifer fought the urge to cover his nose. She smelled too much like Lilith. The strong Alpha scent intertwined with Eve's proved the two spent a lot of time together.

"It's about what Adam said last time," Eve spoke, and Lucifer soured at the realisation she knew his mate's name. "You spoke about...being free...and that made me...think."

Adam blinked in awe. "I made you think?"

"Hm." Eve nodded and lowered her head, her amber eyes falling to her hands as she bashfully twirled her fingers together. "You said...we're all free, nobody can own another. That we can't force somebody to be your mate."

Adam was such a sweetheart. Lucifer's love for him deepened even more as Adam gasped, his expression instantly morphing into one of worry.

"Yes, I remember. Are you alright?" he asked, concerned about lacing his voice. Adam's eyebrows furrowed as he instinctively scanned Eve's body for any sign of injury, bruise, or even a scrape. But there was nothing, save for countless freckles dotting her skin. "Is there something you want to ask?"

Eve seemed to flip a switch. She transformed from a sweet, shy, and slightly nervous Omega into an entirely different person. She straightened her short stature, her back rigid, and her hands dropped to her sides.

"What did you mean by free? How can we be free? What does it mean? Are we not free? What does it even mean to be free? Would it make a difference?" Eve's questions spilled out rapidly, one after the other. Both Lucifer and Adam stared at her, bewildered, as she rattled off a dozen more questions within minutes. Some of her queries didn’t even make sense, and soon Eve was simply babbling about freedom.

Lucifer glanced at his mate from the corner of his eye, ensuring Adam was still comfortable. His thumb traced soothing circles on the back of Adam's hand.

"To be free is... freedom," Lucifer said quietly, meeting Eve's eyes. "It's being able to do what you want, without being told what to do. To make your own decisions and choices, to do things for yourself, and not be..."

"Restricted?" Eve interjected.

Lucifer shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. In a way. Not having freedom means being restricted and bound by rules. Being told what to do. Being told when to stand, when to sit, when to eat, when to drink, when to sleep, shit, and piss. Being ordered to follow rules and restrictions, always feeling like there is more out there…"

"That's what Lilith said," Eve breathed out softly, her voice laced with awe. Her warm caramel eyes bored into Lucifer's. "Lilith always says that there's more beyond Eden. She believes we should crave more than just this paradise, that we deserve to live freely without the Angels constantly watching over us."

Adam averted his gaze, memories of Lilith's fervent speeches flooding back. She never welcomed his responses, always demanding his silence, expecting him to just listen. Even when he yearned to understand, her anger and moodiness silenced him. She saw him as nothing more than a verbal punching bag.

Adam hoped Lilith wasn't treating Eve the same way, but Eve was different, more vocal. Lucifer squeezed Adam's hand, sharing the same concern. He remembered the effort it took to coax words back out of Adam, to heal the mental wounds Lilith had inflicted.

"Lilith has always been headstrong," Lucifer spoke sternly. "It'll lead to trouble if she's not careful."

Eve's freckled face concealed a darker judgement as she stared at Lucifer. "I think Lilith is right. There's more out there. Why do the Angels discourage our questions? Are they hiding something? It doesn't add up."

"Then that's a conversation for the Angels," Lucifer bristled. "We don't want to be dragged into your issues."

Eve shook her head, crossing her arms tightly. "But you're already involved. Adam is free, isn't he? He doesn't have to follow the Angels' rules."

Lucifer inhaled deeply, meeting Adam's eyes. His sweet, loving mate smiled at him, reminding Lucifer of why he defied the heavens in the first place. He did it for freedom, so they could be together, unbound.

Lucifer had defied Michael for Adam.

"What do you want?" he asked, turning back to Eve. "You and Adam aren't the same. Adam is my mate, and I will do anything for him. So tell me, what do you want? You've been pestering us for a reason."

Eve's smile was almost gleeful. "I want what Adam has. I want freedom."

"What?" Adam frowned, his eyebrows knitting together. "I-I don't think we can give you freedom. It's something you have to find on your own."

"You can," Eve insisted, stepping closer. "You said the apple changed things for you. It can do the same for me and Lilith. We deserve to be free and awakened too."

Lucifer's wings unfurled threateningly. He had suspected this all along. Eve's intentions were never about self-discovery; she wanted what Adam had. But Lucifer wouldn't jeopardize his precious bond for her or Lilith.

"Leave," he hissed. "You have no idea what you're asking."

"Why should you be free but not us?" Eve pressed, advancing. "I'm not asking for much. Just the apple. Give us the apple."

Adam's apple-green eyes widened in shock, his hair standing on end. Eve's voice had shifted, becoming cold and sharp, echoing Lilith's harsh tone. He shuddered, stepping back as his stomach churned.

Sensing Adam's fear, Lucifer shielded him with his wings, glaring at Eve. The eye on his chest glowed brightly as all six wings spread wide, adorned with small, watchful eyes. His halo shimmered brilliantly above his head.

"Eve, this is your final warning. Leave and don't return," he commanded, his voice echoing in an almost inhuman manner.

Eve's frown deepened. "Why won't you give me the apple? Why won't you share freedom with me and Lilith?"

"You're not ready for the apple of knowledge," Lucifer snapped. "Neither of you are. God will provide when the time is right, but now is not that time."

"Why are we not ready but Adam is? What makes him different?" Eve demanded, her calm facade betrayed by her darkened eyes. "We deserve to know the truth too."

Lucifer raised his hand, fingers splayed wide, his angelic power crackling around him like a living thing. Little balls of flame snapped and popped against his skin, and his eyes darkened almost to black as golden light flared around him, radiant as the sun.

"Lucifer!" Adam gasped, clutching his arm as the golden magic built into a furious storm in his palm. "Stop! You're going to hurt her!"

The Archangel of dreams, hopes, and creation seemed lost in a trance, his eyes unfocused and distant. The eyes imprinted on his wings burned brighter, nearly scorching through the feathers. The golden fire in his palm coiled around his fingers and wrist, crawling up his arm like a serpent. Adam winced as it bit at his fingertips, but he held on tighter.

"Eve! Please leave!" he yelled, the golden fire growing blindingly bright, forcing Adam to squint. "Run, Eve, run away!"

Eve spun around and fled, her red hair whipping behind her. Soon, she vanished from Adam's sight, consumed by the overwhelming light.

Adam twisted on his toes, pushing himself against Lucifer's chest, wrapping his arms tightly around his mate. "Luci," he called tenderly, "Luci, it's okay. She's gone now. Please calm down. Everything's okay."

The golden light continued to crackle around them. Lucifer's eyes, usually a serene blue, were now a tumultuous gold, staring at nothing. Adam reached up with a trembling hand, his thumb tracing gentle circles on Lucifer's cheek.

"Lucifer, it's alright. Please calm down," Adam whispered, stretching up onto his tiptoes to press his lips to Lucifer's. "I'm not hurt. Eve doesn't have the apple. It's still safe in our nest. We're safe."

Adam kissed his mate once more, feeling the divine power that marked Lucifer as one of the most powerful Archangels. Adam loved him deeply, adored every part of him.

"Okay?" he whispered, pulling back to watch as Lucifer's eyes regained their familiar blue sparkle. Relief washed over Adam as he saw Lucifer returning to himself. His stiff wings began to sag, and he slumped against Adam, trembling.

"I'm so sorry, Adam. I'm sorry," he whimpered, tears spilling from his eyes. "I just want you to be safe. I don't want anything to happen to you."

Caressing the back of Lucifer's head, Adam ran his fingers through the golden curls. "Nothing will happen to me. We're both fine."

"She can't have the apple, Adam. Neither of them can," Lucifer said, hugging him tighter. "It's not the same. They're not the same. It's different. We won't be forgiven by Heaven if we give them the apple. We won't be allowed to just be together if we defy those rules. It's dangerous for us."

Adam pressed soft kisses along Lucifer's shoulder and neck. "Then we won't give Eve or Lilith the Apple of Knowledge."

To ensure their future. Their happiness.

[rea-grimm]

Deal with the devil - Crocodile pt 2

Almost a week passed and everything went back to normal. You felt much better too. No fatigue or dizziness. You were healthy as a fish.

You served your punishment by having to close your poison workshop and the only way you could study them was through books.

At first, you didn't want to give it up, but when you saw how unpleasant it affected your life, you decided to find another hobby. However, it was a harder nut to crack than you expected.

You had too much free time so you headed to the warlord to see if there was anything you could do. It would be enough for you to sit next to him and just listen to what he was doing.

You were about to go inside when you heard voices from the room. You recognized Crocodile's voice, but you never heard the other one in your life. You didn't want to disturb him and were already planning to leave when the door opened by itself.

Before you could do anything, an unknown force pressed into your back and began pushing you into the room. Inside, Crocodile was standing behind the table, looking angry. You wanted to say something but you couldn't. The invisible force that pushed you into the room was now holding you in place and holding you tight.

The floor caved in on the stranger, but he didn't even care. He levitated over it like it was nothing. In addition, the room was littered with deep gashes from Crocodile's attack. What the hell was going on here?

More sand began to appear around the demon and soon surrounded him. However, before the warlord could complete his attack, the sand stopped listening to him and fell to the ground, while the devil did not have a scratch or a speck of sand on him.

“I hope you've had time to say goodbye,” the demon said nonchalantly, snapping his fingers. That was also the last thing you heard before the whole world went black before your eyes and you were completely enveloped in darkness.

This time Crocodile managed to catch you with the sand before your body hit the ground. He cradled you in his arms, while he launched the last attack on the devil. He sent the strongest sand attack he was capable of. However, as soon as the sand was about to touch him, the demon disappeared like steam over a pot.

Crocodile hadn't been this angry in a long time. How could he afford to lose you a second time? He was furious. He immediately changed the task of all Baroque Works to a single one. Find the demon and force him to heal you.

Meanwhile, he carried you to your room himself. Instead of going to bed, however, he put you in his arms and didn't want to let you go. You were so small compared to him and now he could see how fragile you were.

He lit a new cigar and thought about what to do next. He wasn't going to just believe that you were gone for good. He exhaled smoke as he felt someone else enter the room.

"Such a beautiful flower. Wouldn’t it be terrible to watch her wilt so fast?” came the familiar voice of the demon whispering in his ear. The Warlord didn't say anything to that though and just stroked your cheek with his thumb.

"Still want to get rid of me? Even though you know I can save her?” he exhorted. You weren't dead, but rather on the brink of death. You were still breathing, but your heartbeat was so weak that it was almost invisible.

"Price?" Crocodile finally asked.

"Nothing you need," he replied mysteriously. “It’s nothing that separates you from this desert flower. You don't even know you have it,” and he smiled mysteriously with a dark glint in his eyes.

"What is it?" he asked impatiently. He didn't like it when someone tried to outsmart him.

"And what would be the fun if I told you? Take it or leave it. And as a bonus, I'll add immunity to all poisons. Even those not yet discovered," offered the demon.

Crocodile just chuckled at that. He had the impression that he had become a spectator in the market, a victim of a salesman who wanted to sell his product without limit. However, he finally agreed.

"Great! It was a pleasure to make a deal with you. I hope that you will continue to be together. I'm rooting for you!” were the devil's words before he snapped his fingers and disappeared.

When it was just the two of you in the room again, it seemed at first impression that nothing had happened at all. Or the change was rather minimal. You were still unconscious, but slowly but surely your breathing and heart were getting stronger and more stable. Even the colour returned to your face.

Despite all that, however, you didn't wake up, and Crocodile was getting the impression that the devil hadn't outwitted him after all. Those thoughts left him as pain shot through his entire body. He frowned and balled his hand into a fist.

His whole body was burning, but he felt the worst and greatest pain in his lower back, where he felt as if someone had grabbed him by the spine and was pulling it out of his body. This at the same time as feeling as if his head was going to explode.

The scar on his face burned and his fingers became numb after a while. He was writhing in pain but still holding you so he had to be careful not to accidentally crush you. During these moments of agony, his teeth were so clenched that he bit through his cigar.

When he thought the pain had become somewhat bearable, he spat out a bitten piece of cigar and lit a new one. He had to sit down in another way because something was pushing him from behind.

He had no idea how much time had passed when your lids fluttered and you sleepily opened your eyes. However, the room was completely dark.

You couldn’t remember what happened before. Your thoughts were in a fog. You sleepily rubbed your eyes as you realized you weren't in bed but in someone's arms. You felt him caress your hand.

You settled down better and rested your head on his chest for a while longer. Even though you just woke up, you were tired. As you rested for a little while longer, you remembered Crocodile's panicked expression before you passed out.

You gently took his hand that he was stroking you and looked into his face. In the darkness that prevailed in the room, his eyes glowed silver and thus illuminated his face, which you did not recognize in part. That you were still asleep and this was just a weird dream?

"What happened? Does it hurt?" you asked him with concern in your voice. You knelt at his feet and carefully caressed his scar, which had sharp crocodile teeth sticking up and down.

“It's nothing compared to the pain of losing you,” he replied, caressing your cheek. When you touched his scar it hurt, but it was nothing compared to when he was changing.

"But it still hurts, doesn't it?" you said as you noticed how he closed his eyes whenever you touched a changed spot. "What happened?" you asked him again, even though you knew the answer.

"You don't have to worry about something like that. It's already settled. Are you feeling better now?” he turned his attention to you. He didn't want to bother you because you would probably blame yourself or feel sorry for him. He didn't need either.

"Probably yes. I don't have any pain and no fatigue…” you shrugged. You felt good. Nothing was bothering you at the moment.

"I'm glad to hear that," Crocodile smiled happily. He was partly relieved to hear that.

“You look tired,” you said after a while, feeling a little tired yourself. This time, however, it was not due to illness. "And it's still dark outside. How about we go to bed?” you suggested

Crocodile hesitated for a moment. It was true that he was quite tired after all of this and was still sore from the change. But part of him was worried that if you went to sleep now, he'd find you gone in the morning. He finally pushed that worry out of his mind, lifted you into the air and carried you to the bed.

There you lay next to each other and Crocodile pulled you closer to him. It was easy for you to fall asleep in such proximity.

The next morning, you woke up earlier than the warlord. You rolled over so you could look at him. It was strange to see him like this. It wasn't until now that you noticed a pair of horns growing out of the edges of his forehead and curved back.

Careful not to wake him, you sat up and noticed the long crocodile tail curling under his feet and sticking out from your side of the bed.

Sure, he looked a little different now, some might even say scarier, but you didn't mind. You noticed that he sleepily opened his eyes. They still glowed goldenly, but it wasn't as noticeable as at night.

You laid down again and snuggled closer to him. You had no idea what had happened while you were out, but you trusted him that it was resolved.

News of his change spread relatively quickly and thus earned him the nickname the sand demon.

PART 1

Crocodile Masterlist

[sirfrogsworth]

Actually, I might have too many reasons.

I'm afraid it has been a really difficult few years for me and my family.

Our beloved corgi, Otis, developed a terrible condition (degenerative myelopathy) that made him lose the function of his back legs. Once his quality of life diminished passed the point where he could no longer experience joy as a dog and only had hardship and suffering to look forward to, we had to put him to sleep.

In February, despite taking painstaking measures to stay safe, my entire family contracted COVID and I also developed a kidney stone at the same time. Unfortunately, my mother was on medication that made her immune system pretty much useless. She died a horribly lonely death in the ICU. The last time I got to speak to her was over the telephone, with a nurse holding the phone up to her face. She was confused and scared and could not breathe despite being on two different breathing aids. All she could do was ask if my dad and I were okay. She was more worried about us than herself. Then they had to put her mask back on and she kept trying to talk even though I couldn't understand her. All I could hear was the fear in her voice. I tried to tell her how much I loved her one last time, but I have no idea if she could hear me.

She lost consciousness soon after and never woke up. Eventually her heart gave up and she passed. I only got to see her once briefly through a glass door. Her body was still alive, but she was already gone at that point. Just an unconscious vessel attached to machines.

My father has kidney failure and heart failure. He is being kept alive by dialysis 3 times per week. He hates going and it wipes him out every time. We hope he has a year or two left, but it's impossible to know for sure.

I am his caretaker even though I am also disabled with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome and Narcolepsy. I do my best to make sure his needs are met. My brother has been almost no help at all. A few friends and my aunt come by every once in a while to help with chores, but it's pretty much just me alone taking care of the both of us.

I have no idea where I am going to live if my dad passes away. I have no plan. I have no energy to make a plan. And that fear makes it hard to sleep many nights.

Then I was having these horrible stomach issues and lost nearly 30 pounds (in a bad way). The discomfort got so bad at one point I became suicidal. My dad feared for my life and so he called the police and EMTs. They admitted me into the hospital. After 2 days in the ER, being stuck in a small room because they had no other place to put me during COVID, I was finally admitted to a psychiatric ward for observation. Weirdly my stomach issues started improving and my suicidal thoughts passed.

I'm honestly not sure if I would have taken my own life if I had not been admitted. But I will say those two days in a tiny ER room did not do much to improve my mental health. It is sad that in this country with all its resources, there is no such thing as urgent mental healthcare. They just stick you in a room and make sure you can't hurt yourself as you wait in line to get the actual help you need.

Thankfully I was able to adjust some medication I was taking and resolve my stomach issues. That seemed to relieve me of my dangerous thoughts and I have been okay in that regard ever since.

My dad had a serious infection in July that placed him in the hospital. He lost the ability to walk, his heart stopped briefly, and he started having horrible hallucinations. At one point I wasn't sure if he would ever return to reality. Nothing he said made any sense. Thankfully once they treated the infection and he got decent sleep he returned to lucidity. But he had to go through brutal rehab in order to walk again (with a walker and only short distances).

He was in hospital and rehab for over a month. After what happened to my mom, I promised myself that my dad would not be alone in the hospital. So, no matter how bad I physically felt, I pushed myself to visit him and be at his bedside every day and all day until they kicked me out. It was grueling for both of us, but I don't know if he would have recovered if I hadn't been there. Partly because I kept his spirits up, but also because I was able to get him better care as an advocate. I had to push to make sure he got the tests and medication he needed and saw the doctors that could help him. It was one of the hardest things I've ever done.

The only bright side of his hospital stay is that we rediscovered our love for St. Louis Cardinals baseball. We bonded over it and ended up watching every game. We were very sad when they were quickly eliminated in the first round of the playoffs. But it was a magical season as two fan-favorite players were playing their final season and they had amazing and emotional sendoffs. (Albert Pujols and Yadier Molina) It is my hope that my dad has at least one more baseball season left in him.

My health took a serious downturn earlier this year. It happened on the very same day that my best friend Katrina came to visit from Florida. I got so sick I could barely appreciate her presence when she was here. I had been looking forward to seeing her for a very long time and my stupid chronic illness ruined it. I was counting on that visit to give me a mental health boost.

I recovered a few weeks later, but my health has never been the same. I had to adjust to a new normal and adapt and find ways to take care of my father despite being further impaired.

I also lost my last creative outlet--writing. I enjoy researching and writing long and humorous political essays, but since my health declined further, I have not been able to write like that ever since. I'm really hoping I can regain that ability, but I'm unsure if that will happen.

One of my best friends is trans and I have many trans friends and followers and I am just really scared for them right now. The laws that are being proposed and passed are unjust and cruel. I have never witnessed such an effective campaign of hatred in my lifetime. I mean, I know there has always been hatred of the marginalized in every era of modern human existence, but this seems to go beyond just the conservative hate-mongers. It is not couched in subtext and dog whistles. It is overt and very "out loud." And I'm seeing people who claim to be progressive join in this hatred.

They are suddenly super worried about sports they never used to pay attention to. They think bathrooms are suddenly dens of danger despite trans people existing long before this concentrated hate became popular and bathrooms being perfectly safe beforehand. And now people believe that helping trans kids with proper healthcare is akin to child abuse. They think accepting trans kids is "grooming."

I see Twitter and Reddit threads filled with transphobia and it often brings me to tears to see people openly and comfortably hate the people I love so much. They hate people who have no tangible effect on their lives. People who just want to exist and be respected.

I just don't know how people can hate my friends so much without even knowing them.

Also, I'm just... really really lonely. All the time. It feels like a constant punch in the gut. I miss seeing and hugging my friends. I miss romantic companionship. And I've got a 20+ year streak of being sexually frustrated and am completely unsure how in the world to address that.

And finally, I decided to watch The Handmaid's Tale which is just full of rape and sadness. I figured I'm already horribly depressed, so a show probably isn't going to do much more damage. But it is still a tough watch.

That's the major headlines of my depression.

I'm just trying to survive and find little ways to cope. Mostly I am leaning on my support system and amazing best friends to keep me propped up and functioning.

Best I can do right now.

[diagonal-queen]

The Moon and the Sea

♡ pairing: Paul Verlaine x Arthur Rimbaud

♡ synopsis: After a hard day, Verlaine finds solace in the arms of his partner.

♡ wc: 1.5k

♡ cw: Stormbringer spoilers(?), Rimlaine are extremely sad and gay

note: "i want to write a oneshot about some really beautiful but tragic gay men but i cant think of anything" i said to @small-chaos. they replied "Everybody talks about the moon and the sun but nobody admires the beauty in the relationship between the moon and the sea" and then this brainchild was born. thanks bestie <3 i would also like to shoutout @gettinshiggywithit for helping me complete this when i ran out of brain power, thank you lovely 😚😚 apologies for errors and I hope you enjoy x

The early winds of autumn were warm and gentle, relieving busy Parisians of the sticky summer humidity as the changing season set itself in motion. The sounds of evening began to die down, leaving only the rustling of brown and orange leaves in its wake. Yet, one man hadn't been privy to this particular noise, as all his windows had been closed as soon as he'd first entered the apartment the week prior. All he could hear was the crackling of fire and his own chattering teeth.

Rimbaud found himself growing colder by the minute. That night, he sat shivering on a sofa right before the fireplace, with a thick fluffy blanket wrapped around him. Despite the fact that he was also clad in several layers, a thick grey coat, a large scarf, mittens and earmuffs, he still felt like he might succumb to hypothermia any second.

He wanted nothing more than to leap into the fire itself, but he sat as still as he could and waited. Verlaine was supposed to be back soon, and when he knew that he was alright he would be able to go to their shared room and sleep (somewhat) soundly. That was what he'd planned, at least.

After hearing the sound of the door unlocking, Rimbaud bowed his head as Verlaine entered the apartment and closed the door behind him. He momentarily glanced at his partner, before doing a double take in shock.

Verlaine looked...dishevelled. He wasn't so dishevelled that a stranger may take notice and ask him about it, but for Verlaine, even a loose strand of hair was unusual. Rimbaud immediately knew something terrible must've happened.

"Paul, you...!" Rimbaud sat up, eyeing Verlaine who didn't seem to want to return his gaze. He silently walked, or rather stumbled, over towards the couch where his partner was sitting.

Rimbaud had never seen Verlaine act in such a way. Sure, he could come off as aloof from time to time, but today he didn't seem bothered to hide the fatigue he was feeling. Even his complexion seemed paler.

Verlaine then kneeled on the sofa, before his whole upper body flopped on top of Rimbaud, who let out a soft grunt at the impact. He tried to adjust his posture, but now that Verlaine was slumped on top of him he found it difficult to move.

"Are you alright?!"

"I'm..." Verlaine pushed his hat off his head, letting it fall to the ground by Rimbaud's shoes. "...I'm tired."

His umber eyes seemed unfocused, staring somewhere Rimbaud couldn't see.

"What happened to you, Paul?" The raven-haired couldn't help but feel concern bubbling inside him, and the question came off with more urgency than he'd intended it to. Not that it mattered- Verlaine never seemed to care about things like that.

Verlaine didn't answer for a moment, just letting out a breath that he seemed to have been holding in for a while. His face contorted into a slight grimace.

"...Paul?"

"...I don't want to talk about it now."

In spite of his worry, Rimbaud didn't press him further.

The room was bathed in a golden hue from the fire before the couch they were draped upon. It subconsciously gave a feeling of comfort to Rimbaud, who suddenly noticed how tranquil the atmosphere was despite the fact that he was trapped beneath Verlaine's roughed-up form. He realised that he wasn't shivering so violently now. He was still cold, of course, but Verlaine acted as a soothing source of warmth.

Rimbaud's gloomy eyes gazed down at Verlaine, whose eyes had closed by now. There was no blood on his person, of course, but his slightly dishevelled blonde hair and wrinkled clothing weren't any less cause for concern. For something or someone to have even a slight effect on a creature as powerful as Verlaine...

Rimbaud steadily moved his gloved hand and, after a moment of contemplation, placed it atop the back of Verlaine's head as gently as he could muster. Verlaine didn't react. Rimbaud let out a deep exhale, and cautiously ran a hand through his soft golden locks.

The small room the two were temporarily staying in, an apartment in an old Haussmann-style building located on the outskirts of Paris, was silent. They had become accustomed to moving around as frequently as their job required, and had never bothered to modify any of their living spaces to feel more homely. Rimbaud only cared about where Verlaine was, and Verlaine didn't see much merit in interior design. Yet, something about this place felt inherently intimate, or so Rimbaud thought.

"...Rimbaud?" Verlaine suddenly mumbled. Rimbaud cast him a glance, his face half obscured by blueish shadows while the other half glowed in the yellow light.

"Hm?"

"...I heard something in passing a few days ago," he began, almost as if he were unsure of his own words. "It was about love."

"Love?" Rimbaud creased his eyebrows, perplexed. If one were to ask him anything that Verlaine may bring up in conversation, love wouldn't have been in his first thousand guesses.

"Yes, love...I heard someone compare the concept of soulmates to the sun and the moon," Verlaine continued with a faint voice. "I don't quite understand it."

"Well..." Rimbaud's tone was slightly shaky. "You know the phrase 'opposites attract', don't you?"

Verlaine let out a small noise but Rimbaud couldn't tell whether it was affirmative or negative. Regardless, he continued.

"It means that two people who are different from each other are likely to have a better relationship. The 'sun' person would usually be more outgoing and cheery, while the 'moon' person is more introspective and quiet..." He bit his thin lip and then added, "Not unlike you, Paul."

Verlaine shifted slightly, his hand perching itself on top of Rimbaud's chest.

"Not unlike me...?"

"That's not to say that introspection and quietness are bad things," Rimbaud quickly spoke. "I just mean that...they're traits that suit you well. The 'moon' caricature as a whole suits you well, in fact."

"The moon..." Verlaine muttered to himself. "So far away from the rest of mankind...perhaps I am like the moon."

Rimbaud wanted to comfort Verlaine, to reassure him that he wasn't far away from anybody, especially not him, but the words wouldn't form on his tongue. He felt as if he should have been better at this by now; after all, it was far from the first time they'd had this type of conversation.

"If I am the moon then you're the sea." Verlaine suddenly announced, snapping Rimbaud out of his train of thought.

"The sea?" Rimbaud repeated, quietly. "...I don't understand."

"The sea is complex, full of mystery. You can never predict the force of the ocean's waves as they crash on the sand," Verlaine breathed, as if he were reading a poem. "You are deep and dark, Rimbaud. You're full of undiscovered secrets...and..."

He lifted his head up, lidded brown eyes staring straight into Rimbaud's. "We might be opposites, but I don't think you're a sun."

Rimbaud's breath hitched in surprise. He couldn't tear his eyes away from Verlaine's, whose tired gaze still burned right through him.

"Every day I survey you from afar and it feels almost like you glow when I look at you. How strange is that?"

The black-haired man couldn't tell whether or not Verlaine's question was rhetorical or not. Even if it wasn't, he probably wouldn't have been able to come up with a coherent answer. He was frozen in surprise, unable to break the tense silence between them.

Verlaine's hand moved from Rimbaud's chest to his cheek, gently cupping it while his thumb began to rub circles over his soft, pale skin. The blonde man seemed to be in some kind of fatigued haze.

"The saddest thing is how unattainable you are. But I know that if I were ever to fall..." Verlaine leaned forward, his breath tickling Rimbaud's face. "You would be there to catch me, wouldn't you?"

Then, without giving him the chance to answer, Verlaine brought his lips to Rimbaud's. His grip on Rimbaud's cheek tightened ever so slightly as he deepened the kiss, almost smiling when Rimbaud placed his hands on his back and squeezed.

"Paul-" Rimbaud tried to start when he pulled away, wanting to ask if they should be doing this or if it was really alright, but Verlaine just placed a finger to his lips.

"Shh..." the corner of Verlaine's lip turned up. Rimbaud's cheeks flushed red, and he quickly dove back into the kiss.

Aside from pulling apart for air every few seconds, the pair remained in their gentle embrace until Verlaine eventually pulled away, leaving Rimbaud breathless, and laid his head down on his chest.

"I'm tired, Arthur..." he said, before closing his eyes. Verlaine must've been exhausted- he never called Rimbaud by his first name. It made his heart skip a beat; something he hoped that Verlaine didn't notice.

With the state he was in, Verlaine probably wouldn't remember this in the morning. Rimbaud decided that unless he bought it up first, he wouldn't say a thing about it, no matter how much he wanted to.

And thus, the pair never spoke of that night again. 

taglist~ ♡ @gettinshiggywithit, @fyodorhatr, @flower-of-darkness, @bejeweledgirl

[softquietsteadylove]

I think the break up idea would make a good ao3 content

Always love your work btw ～

Thena's head tipped to the side as she laughed, her hands clasped around her cup of decaf latte. Just like she always had. God, she really looked the same, and sounded the same, and felt the same.

Gil stared, blatantly enchanted by the woman across from him. He had moved swiftly from not wanting her to know how pathetically he had spent the last year and a half to telling her about his one miserable attempt at a relationship. "Yeah, I didn't even realise what made her storm out like that until the guys told me."

Thena gave him a chastising look over the rim of her cup. "Gilgamesh."

"I know, I know, it's bad," he admitted while also smiling into his own cup of coffee. He shouldn't make light of having called the last girl he was with the wrong name. But he couldn't help but be glad it was good for something (making Thena laugh).

"If it were me, I would have done the same," Thena offered in his poor ex's defense.

Not that he would have really called her his girlfriend, all things considered. Maybe if that was the only name for it, but he had made it clear at the time that he wasn't looking for anything that serious. Not after Thena.

"I don't blame her," he shrugged, still too preoccupied with the woman in front of him. It was as if he were in a dream and she might vanish at any moment.

"Did you ever apologise to her?"

"'Course," he huffed. He leaned forward on the table, sitting his cheek against his fist. "I have some decency, y'know."

"I know." The quick and familiar rhythm of their conversation stumbled. It had done so a few times, now. For the most part, they felt like themselves three years ago. Things flowed easily between them. But this was the third time now that Thena had said something a bit more pronounced, or more softly, or wistfully.

He looked at her, although as soon as he did her eyes darted down to stare into her mug again. He could feel them circling something. He faked taking another sip; his mug was smaller than hers and he was already done, but he didn't want another cup, and he didn't want to leave, either.

Thena put her mug down, freeing one of her hands to tuck some hair behind her ear. She was still feeling a little restless. "And how has work been?"

It was a very mundane question after the last. But that was okay, she could ask him all the boring shit she wanted. "Restaurant's good--I finally found some good guys for the kitchen so I can take off earlier or take a day off here and there."

Thena merely nodded, appearing to be out of commentary. Her eyes darted down to her mug.

"You out?" he asked directly. It wasn't the most charming way to ask, but he was curious. She nodded, her lips pinching sheepishly. He smiled, "want more?"

She hook her head.

"Yeah, I guess I'm all coffee-d out," he sighed, standing from the little stool. The tall, metal stools always did feel somewhat uncomfortable the longer spent on their square forms. Thena showed no signs of butt fatigue as she also stood. He held his hand out, "bus or uber?"

She tilted her head, but took his offered hand, "taxi."

He grinned; she was still like an old lady with technology. She knew what an uber was but she had probably never ordered one in her life. His hand closed around hers, "there's a spot where they all park that's just around the corner. Probably quicker than calling one."

Thena followed him silently, but he was fine with her silence. It was another thing that felt terribly, painfully familiar to him as he walked out with her hand in hand.

"What about the museum?" he asked in a bit of a rush, reminding himself to ask about her work and her interests.

She smiled as they took slow, tiny steps in the snow. "Quite the same, I believe. Kingo is attempting to convince upper management that he should be in charge of the social media accounts."

"He'd probably do pretty well at that, actually," Gil muttered mostly to himself. He had always liked her friend from work, Kingo. Well, once he had learned that he wasn't interested in Thena, of course.

He snuck his eyes over to her. He caught her doing the same before she rushed them away again, her other hand reaching for her scarf.

There was even less street noise than before they had gone into the little cafe, most of the city asleep and avoiding the snow. Those who were out were probably a few blocks away in the pubs, like his friends whom he had abandoned. He looked over his shoulder.

"Ah, shit."

Thena blinked, still following him silently but now as he dragged her to the corner and around it. "Gil?"

"The guys," he grumbled as he pulled her around the corner of the building, just out of the streetlight enough that they might not recognise him with his back turned. "I, uh, kinda left them in the bar back there."

"Gilgamesh," she chided him again, but she was obviously amused by it.

In fact, he could hear them as they got closer. Were they always so loud and obnoxious? Maybe he just noticed it less when he was getting drunk, too. But he had to admit, that was appealing to him less and less these days. He had chalked it up to getting older.

But looking at Thena, that wasn't it. It wasn't that he just didn't like going out with the guys anymore, it was just that he would rather just be at home, enjoying a quiet night instead. He wanted to be horizontal on the couch, the tv playing whatever. He wanted to have his back against the back of the couch, and what he really wanted was a smaller, lighter frame to be lying in front of him, his arm draped over her because it made him feel big and strong and protective. And she would doze off because she found what he liked on tv uninteresting. But they would lie around together like that for hours.

"Gil?"

He shuffled them closer to the wall as the voices got closer and closer. Even if they did manage to overlook his huge frame, even from the back, they would most certainly recognise Thena. It was impossible not to.

Thena let him guide her closer to him as he raised his arm up against the snowy building's facade. To a passerby, he would probably just look like he was leaning, maybe they would think he was putting the moves on someone, if they could see her past him at all.

He all but held his breath as his drunk asshole friends yapped their way down the sidewalk and past them completely. He knew those idiots wouldn't notice him. He was surprised they had even gathered that he left. He looked down at Thena, tucked against his chest, "sorry-"

She tilted her head up, catching his lips with her own. But it wasn't that accidental. She was definitely kissing him. His hand moved to her cheek completely on its own, like damn sense memory or something. But it made her kiss him again, so maybe it wasn't that bad.

They pulled apart slowly. He wanted to kiss her again. He wanted it as if he had been starving the past two years of his life and was finally given some good fucking food again.

Thena's cheeks took on a shade of rouge that stood out against the snow and her general pallor. She slid back half a step. "S-Sorry, I-I shouldn't--it's-"

He caught her hands again before she could slither away in embarrassment. Her eyes avoided his again but he was happy to stare at her blatantly, reciprocated or not. "Don't be sorry."

He pulled her in again, kissing her more properly. It really was like sense memory, but it was better than any memory he had been mulling over for the past however long. Their lips fit together naturally, Thena melted into him like she was the better atop a thick stack of fluffy pancakes. His arm wrapped around her, holding the smallness of her waist, even in her heavy white coat.

They parted again. He moaned quietly and she let out more of a gentle purr. Her hand had slipped up the front of his coat and halfway inside his lapel, although she snapped it back to herself. He blinked, feeling more dazed after that kiss than any number of shots the guys would have told him to get. "See?"

Thena's eyes drifted down again, still blushing, much to his delight. "I didn't plan this with this in mind."

No, she wouldn't have planned to kiss him outside, under the cover of shadow, snow falling on their heads. But that was okay. He dusted some snow out of her hair again. "I know."

She stepped back from him more properly, in a physical declaration that no more kissing would be taking place. She gripped the ends of her scarf. "I should get home."

"Okay," he smiled, although he had to admit that his first instinct was to ask her to stay. He just wanted another hour, just five more minutes. Just one more kiss before she left again.

She took his hand again, letting him lead her to her ride home. Her hand flinched in his before giving it a quiet squeeze. "Next week is a long weekend."

His eyes sparked. She wouldn't bring it up just to make conversation. But he was curious if she would ask him for herself or if she would end up making him ask her out. To be honest, he was okay if that was what she wanted. He had plenty of experience in it. "Oh, yeah."

Her hand was still holding onto her scarf for dear life. But she braved on, "the museum will be closed on the monday. If I recall, so will the restaurant."

She still knew the restaurant hours. His heart leapt in his chest, "yeah."

Finally without any cover left, she managed to squeak out, "if you like, we could-"

"Love to," he blurted out, even stepping on the end of her question. Maybe it was overeager. Maybe it was even more pathetic than admitting he hadn't even come close to moving on from her. But he didn't care.

Her eyes darted up to his one last time before shyness took over and she looked away again. "Hm."

That was her way of sealing the deal, and the nostalgia of her quiet 'hm's and 'indeed's warmed the tips of his fingers. "It's a date."

The glow of the taxi numbers came into view. He had to let her go again. But Thena gave him one last - beautiful - smile. "Then I'll see you monday."

She left his side to cross the street, one of them having already started up their engine at the sight of her. He watched her, from being the only person in sight to getting in. She gave him one last wave before her carriage took off for her side of town.

Neither had asked if their numbers were the same. Maybe that meant that she hadn't wanted to change hers either. He wondered what the background of her phone was now (it had also been of their trip to Australia, once upon a time).

He also tried not to obsess over the kiss. It didn't mean this was anything more serious. They were just two old friends catching up, he told himself. Although his fingers were tingling, eager to hold her like that again.