#he was always meant to come in this way to make every single person that chat shit about him eat their words on international tv

[nottswitch]

Hi babe!! 💞

Congrats on 1k you deserve it!!!

can i get 1 pls?

hi baby!! thank you sm, and thanks for sending a request 💘 i kinda hoped that this aesthetic would come up for theo bc i really wanted to use this pic, and yay! it did! your aesthetic is…

— glowwave

(surrounding the theme of things that glow in the dark or with assistance from a UV light or with the glow of neon lights and bright, neon colors)

۶ৎ navigation ; masterlist ; theo m-list ; how to request ; 1k celebration

18+ smut

the booming beats coming from the party were filling the (almost) empty bathroom, making the floor beneath your feet vibrate. not for long, though – in a second, you were lifted up onto the sink, the cold porcelain edge digging into the back of your thighs. you didn’t really notice, though – your mind was preoccupied with your ex’s mouth devouring your own.

theo’s hands wandered all over your body, shamelessly sneaking underneath your tank top to palm your tits as his lips moved down to your jawline and the side of your neck. the feeling of his teeth sinking into your flesh made you moan softly into his ear, pulling on his hair to have a look at his face. the purple fluorescent light inside the bathroom made him look like some otherworldly creature, an alien who always managed to take you to another dimension, to a new planet completely of his own.

"missed me, cara mia?" theo murmured against your lips, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. you already knew the answer – it was the same shit every time: you’d convince yourself that you didn’t need him, that you were way better off without him, that you just weren’t meant to be. but…

"fuck- yes!"

the words were practically coaxed out of you by theo’s fingers harshly shoved deep inside your treacherously dripping pussy, making you desperately grab his shoulders for support and moan in a lewd, pornographic way into the air.

theo’s face was now adorned with an even wider, cockier smirk as his ‘fuck me’ (or, in this case, ‘fuck you’) eyes studied your blissed out expression intensely, catching every single twitch of your mouth, every single wrinkle creasing between your furrowed eyebrows. the wet, squelching sounds of your arousal mixed with the beats of some annoying techno sound rang through your positively empty brain, filled with cum, cum, theo, cum, theo-

a gasp broke out of your lips when you felt his hand cupping your jaw, fingers digging into your cheeks, firmly pressing the soft flesh against your teeth.

"what’s going on in that pretty little head, hm?" theo cooed, his voice clearly mocking. you wanted to reply, but the addition of a third finger shut you up instantly, a moan serving as a perfect reminder of your already fucked out state. "ah, piccolina, you never change."

theo chuckled and let go of your face, moving his hand to wrap around your throat instead. his lips hovered just above your parted, glistening ones. his eyebrow went up when he saw your eyes rolling to the back of your head again as his fingers curled inside you one more time.

"words, cara mia. use your words," theo hissed, tightening his hold on your throat to remind you who was in charge of the whole ordeal – although, there were never any doubts.

"cum, theo, cum," you mumbled, your voice way more high-pitched than usual, like a broken music box playing the same melody over and over again. his eyes drifted from your face to the place where his fingers were currently fucking your coherency away. the smirk was fused to his lips at that point, encouraged by drops of wetness bouncing off your inner thighs with each thrust of his.

"cum, bambina, scream my name. i want every single person in this fucking party to know you’re still hopelessly mine."

playlist

❥ e.t. by katy perry

❥ unfold by alina baraz & galimatias

❥ so sad so sexy by lykke li

❥ colors by halsey

❥ dancer in the dark by chase atlantic

[musicalmoritz]

Why does tsukasa seem to not care much about himself?

I had a hard time figuring out what you meant by this because to be honest, I don’t focus on the Yugi twins as much as some of the other characters. I still try to read analyses on them and understand them, and I have been talking a lot abt Tsukasa lately, but I haven’t rly grasped their characterization as quickly as I did with some of the others

However, after giving it some thought I believe you’re referring to scenes like these

If this is what you mean, then the explanation is that Tsukasa simply doesn’t want to exist. He is a yorishiro and existence for them is essentially hell, just look at what Sumire went through being stuck in a time loop for 100 years. It is not a reach to assume Tsukasa went through something similar, seeing as he alludes to being trapped in a place before escaping near the start of the series when we first meet him. He reached out to Hanako for years, but Hanako never answered any of his calls. So Tsukasa wanting to be destroyed isn’t really out of any self-sacrificial nature, it would be a peaceful ending for him. He’d be able to move onto the afterlife, or otherwise accomplish any conniving goals he might have with the entity (idk as I said, not a Yugi twins expert)

He views Hanako as selfish for wanting to hold onto the people he loves at the expense of their wellbeing. Part of Nene’e fate is to die young, it’s sad but that is the natural path her life is meant to follow. She herself even tries to come to terms with this and make peace with it, but Hanako won’t let her. He loves her, so he wants her to live a long and happy life. This is completely understandable, but it is also selfish. It is part of human nature to be selfish, and part of Hanako will always be tied to the human boy he once was. Selfishness isn’t always bad, sometimes it’s necessary. But from’s Tsukasa’s perspective, Hanako is robbing Nene of an escape

Tsukasa makes this a personal issue because Hanako treats him the same way. It would be objectively better and more natural for him to let Tsukasa go, especially if the theories abt him killing Tsukasa to free him from the entity are true. That is what Tsukasa wants, to be free, to no longer be a yorishiro. But Hanako is selfish, and he loves Tsukasa too much to grant him freedom

Now, if you’re talking about Tsukasa’s lack of self-care in regards to Hanako “hating” him, that’s a bit different

Tsukasa seems to conceptualize relationships in a very black and white way. You either love someone, or you hate them. He’s interested mainly in how other people feel and react to things, so he’s constantly asking them how they feel about others. I don’t think he differentiates much between platonic love and romantic, it is simply “love vs. hate” to him. The two are opposites and cannot intersect

The most genuine statement I could possibly make about Tsukasa is that he loves his brother. Both versions of him, no matter how you interpret his current existence. The possessed Tsukasa we know now is the one who grew up with Amane, he spent ten years of his life with him whilst Baby Tsukasa only knew Amane for three. Ofc that was still his brother so time isn’t rly relevant to how much love/attachment Amane still holds for the original version of Tsukasa, but that doesn’t change the fact that the brother he knew for most of his life was the possessed Tsukasa. They shared holidays and birthdays together, lived together, walked to school together every single day. Through and through, they are brothers and it would be impossible for Hanako not to see him that way, even if he claims not to. It must be a complicated situation for him, on one hand he grew up with this Tsukasa but on the other he blames this Tsukasa for the old one’s disappearance

Back to how Tsukasa feels, he loves Amane fully. He does describe them as rivals, so I would say the feelings are complex on his end as well, but overall he loves his brother. He loves his brother so much that he doesn’t care if Amane hates him. And he must, he threw him across the room once when they were kids when Tsukasa was bothering him. He knew something was off when Tsukasa returned, and his attitude towards him likely reflected that throughout the 10 years they spent together. He killed him, he freezes up when he sees him, he consistently sides against him. For a character that views love in black and white terms, that sure looks a lot like hate. He recognizes that Amane is sad without him, but he also understands that Amane hates him. At least, from Tsukasa’s perspective, that’s what it looks like

But Tsukasa’s love for Amane is unconditional, he doesn’t really care if Amane hates or loves him. Baby Tsukasa says he wants Amane to be an astronaut with their parents, somewhere far away from him so Tsukasa can never make him upset. He believes Amane hates him, but he doesn’t care as long as Amane is happy. That’s all he wants, for Amane to be happy. His brother is the most important person to him, as long as Amane is happy he doesn’t care what happens to himself. Until it reaches a breaking point ofc, and Tsukasa realizes that the best situation for everyone would be for him to disappear

I’m pulling a lot of this out of my ass so I apologize if I got any information incorrect! Also just to be clear I don’t mind being asked about the Yugi twins at all, people were asking me a lot about Tsukasa yesterday so I get why the questions keep coming. Just beware that I am a self-proclaimed Not Expert lol. I do plan to look more into them whenever I start that series of character analyses tho so stay tuned for that

[rickybaby]

Daniel Ricciardo Prodigal Son discourse on sky??

[yueebby]

𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 – 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮

synopsis. period piece, forbidden love

contents. ooc, angst (eventual comfort), yandere emperor!gojo, lovesick!gojo, servant!reader, obsessive behavior (5k words of gojo pining), lowkey unreliable narrator, time skips

notes. inspired by the apothecary diaries and this post. loosely based off of ancient japan (this is basically its own world). this is the prologue to the series where everything can generally be read as a standalone ! (fic under the cut)

series masterlist

emperor!gojo who broke a hundred year tradition to take you as his only lover. despite your role as a concubine, everyone in the imperial palace knew he was going to make you his empress.

emperor!gojo who had not meant to fall in love with you, but you have managed to somehow charm him. a man that single handedly brought his own clan to power– weak in your hands. hushed whispers around the imperial palace call you a witch, but they never reach your ears. not as long as he is alive.

emperor!gojo shamelessly showering you with love. he pays no mind that it is highly frowned upon, he will have his hands on you every time you are in the same room.

emperor!gojo who is livid when there is an attempt on your life. his usual ocean eyes turned to blue flames like a wild animal. servants and clan elders alike scurry under his gaze. the assailant is taken care of by his own hands. 

emperor!gojo who is forced to satiate the clan elders into submission by taking in another concubine from an influential clan. he insists to you that it is no more than a political formality. who are you to meddle into imperial affairs?

emperor!gojo who can’t help himself and ends up falling for another girl who his clan elders demand he must wed. she is much younger than you, beautiful and is well bred; a perfect match for the emperor. 

emperor!gojo whose frequent visits to you come to an end, forcing you to move from his chambers and back to the consorts’ pavilion.

There was a time when you had everything. A place to call home in the Inner Court, a beautiful palace with anything you could have ever dreamed of. Servants, admirers, riches; you had it all. But what was most dear to you was your lover– a man so divine, many thought he was directly blessed by the hand of God. It was too good to be true. A woman of lowly birth like you, paid as homage for the sins of her clan against the new reigning family of Japan, becoming a concubine of the Heavenly Emperor. 

You remembered it all too well.

His brilliant mind that once strategized the downfall of the previous imperial family, calculating its next move in a game of Go against you. You can still remember the shock on his face upon his first defeat. The way he would keep you from leaving to fulfill your other duties until he was satisfied, eyebrows furrowing as he struggled to keep up with you. No matter how hard he tried, you remained victorious. It drove him mad.

You remembered the stolen kisses while you made your rounds in the Inner Palace with your ladies in waiting. It took you quite a while to learn to tune out their giggles every time the Emperor dips you down to taste your lips in broad daylight. The grin that he wore after was enough to leave your legs weak.

Above all, you'll always remember how safe you felt in his strong, reassuring embrace. You’ve seen him train, and it was no wonder the Gojo clan rose to power so quickly as a result of one man. The way he wields the katana is unlike any man on the face of the earth. Those arms were your sanctuary. You can still vividly recall the attempt on your life, orchestrated by a traditionalist incensed by the Gojo clan's swift ascent to power. The emperor, outraged by the assassination plot, personally saw to the man's execution. 

However, the damage was done and it caused great strain in the Imperial Palace.

To appease the old geezers that were forced out of power, Emperor Gojo had taken in another concubine from one of the Big Three families of Japan— a beautiful Zenin girl. Her flowing, silky hair and saccharine voice enchanted everyone in the Inner Palace, captivating the Emperor, most of all. She was younger than you, with perkier breasts and soft skin that was enough to capture the attention of any man. 

You don’t blame her for taking the Emperor’s attention away. Though you would be a liar if you said it did not hurt you. Deep down, you cannot deny the agony that sears your soul, realizing that the only semblance of love you've ever tasted remains unrequited. With a heavy heart, you resign yourself to the bitter truth of your existence, knowing all too well the cruel confines of your place in this world.

You were merely a pawn, and the Emperor did not want you anymore.

That was made clear months later when you received a scroll from the Emperor’s advisor, a man you were once well acquainted with, Geto Suguru. 

“What is this?” You asked him quietly, your heart silently begging the Heavens it was not what you had suspected it to be. The black haired man in front of you does not respond, and you feel something pierce into your heart. Despite being a part of the Emperor’s court, it was rare that you received letters directly.

Your suspicions were confirmed when your shaky hands finally opened the scroll to read the familiar kanji written by your beloved.

“The Emperor decrees the termination of your role as concubine." Geto spares you the trouble of deciphering the characters neatly written in ink. “In his mercy, you are to be moved as a servant in the Outer Court. You are to serve the Imperial Physician.”

What you remember most was the silence. The Emperor’s silence after the stressful months you had to endure alone. The silence shared between you and Geto when you were forced out of the Imperial Court. All that was left was the sound of your heart breaking and the wood creaking underneath Geto’s feet as he walked away. Satoru never bothered to see you off.

Seasons change and by the next spring, you’re busying your hands with collecting herbs for the Imperial Physician, a man by the name of Yaga Masamichi. He is a kind man, pitying you enough to fill your days with laborious tasks to prevent your mind from wandering to thoughts of the unfortunate turn your life has taken. He is even generous enough to supply you with a new wardrobe of clothing full of light fabrics, a luxury you thought you would lose in the Outer Palace. Though the initial humiliation has worn off with the passing of time, you are still constantly reminded of your fall from grace.

Looks by the mix of condolences and disgust are shared when you roam the walls of the Outer Palace. You hear whispers of how the Emperor is infatuated with his newer, shinier toy. It is enough for you to swallow the bile that makes its way up your throat. 

“It is no wonder the Emperor tossed away a wildflower like her in exchange for a cherry blossom. He needed someone to rival his own greatness.” A particular comment stopped you in your tracks. Your grip tightens on the woven basket in your hand filled with medicinal herbs you had collected earlier that morning. 

“Have some pity on her.” Another eunuch whispers. Your breath falters, but you continue your walk with your head held up. You’ve heard the rumors. The beautiful Zenin Himiko has charmed the Emperor enough that there are rumors of a royal marriage to come. It doesn’t help that the Emperor has remained monogamous to her since he had banished you from his court.

A comforting hand links itself with your arm, “Ignore them. I saw Yaga shooing away a crowd of suitors that were lined up for your hand.” Ieiri Shoko scoffs, secretly sending you a wink. She has been studying medicine under Yaga for nearly a decade, eagerly accepting you as a companion upon your arrival. You feel your cheeks heat up at her flattery. You know she’s just trying to make you feel better.

Although your beauty never faded, it seems as though you are no longer sought after in the marriage market. Not that it matters, considering the new life that you’re living. You’re now a personal servant to the Imperial Physician, leaving no time to worry about suitors and such. Your days are filled with good work— tending to Yaga’s cherished garden that he has sowed for decades rather than frivolous games and attending the Emperor. It may not be glorious compared to your former life, but it was the best a woman of your status could receive. 

When you and Shoko return to Yaga’s estate, you’re surprised to see the somber look that has settled on his aging features. Shoko makes an offhand comment that he will age faster if he keeps scowling. She receives a scolding.

“Is something the matter?” You gently place down your basket full of herbs. 

Yaga sighs, calloused hands rolling up a scroll with the Imperial Seal. “It appears the Emperor’s consort has fallen ill and His Majesty commands my presence in the Imperial Palace.” 

The Royal Consort. The woman that dethroned you: Zenin Himiko.

“I understand.” You nod, maintaining your composure while two sets of eyes scrutinize you with keen observation. It was only natural the emperor wanted the best doctor in the country for his object of affection. “Shall I close up the shop while you journey into the Inner Palace?” 

Yaga shakes his head, “That won’t be necessary. I will have Shoko act as my stand-in.” He remarks with a quick glance in her direction “You, on the other hand, will accompany me.” 

Your eyes widen. 

“You cannot be serious.”

“Typically, one of my apprentices would accompany me on such journeys. However, now that I have acquired a personal attendant,” He gestures towards you with a flick of his hand, “It shall no longer be necessary.” As he speaks, he runs his hand absentmindedly through his well trimmed beard, gaging your reaction.

"I—" Your words falter and fade away. "Yes, sir," you respond, inclining your head in deference, a stark reminder of your place. While you may have concealed it, you were seething with humiliation. Returning to the Imperial Palace after a year of exile to serve the woman who took your spot was mortifying beyond measure.

“Very well. Pack enough for one week’s time. I doubt the Emperor would have called me if this was a light ailment.” He says gruffly. “We leave at dawn.” His gaze shifted to the horizon outside.

1 YEAR AGO

“Your Grace,” You purr at the feeling of his large hands scratching your head. 

The smile that rests on his face is almost ravenous. “Yes, my love?”

“I think—“ A soft sigh escapes your lips when he presses on your weak points. “I should g-go.”

His ministrations stop almost immediately. 

“Go?” His eyes peer down at you in his lap. It is now that you realize the weight of his piercing gaze. “Have I commanded you to leave yet?”

“No, but—”

“Then you have nowhere else to be.” He huffs, unintentionally puffing his cheeks out. You stifle the giggle that nearly escapes from your lips. He vaguely resembles a pufferfish– or so you think. Though you’ve never seen the round creature with your very own eyes, you’ve heard that the delicacy was something only members of the aristocratic class would feast on. 

Your mouth waters at the thought.

“What are you thinking about that could possibly be so important? Keep your eyes on me,” A strong hand squishes your cheeks together and firmly guides your face back upon him. 

You should be embarrassed; ashamed at the intimate position His Majesty has trapped you in. The way your head is tucked away in his lap as he peers down at you, nothing to shield you away from him. It was incredibly scandalous, considering that you were an unmarried woman! But it seemed like the Emperor had taken no mind towards it. You would even dare to say that he was enjoying it, with the way his lips quirk upward at the sight of you squirming. 

“Your Grace,” You repeat, determined to free yourself from his hold. His eyebrows furrow.

“Satoru,” He reminds you. You purse your lips. The position you hold in his court is simply not high enough to grant you the privilege of calling him by his given name.

“Your Grace,” You try again, the title rolling off of your tongue naturally. A man like him did not deserve any title less than.

“You’re breaking my heart, sweetheart. Indulge a man, won’t you?” He pouts down at you. As stubborn as ever, you don’t relent.

“I would be overstepping my boundaries as your consort to call you as such. That privilege is reserved for your future bride.” You take advantage of his guard let down to sit up and escape his hold. If he could have caught you, he made no effort.

“I am a simple man.” He follows you to your vanity. A giggle escapes your mouth. He is anything but. “I want my love to call me by my name.” 

You turn around to cup his cheek. He eagerly leans into your touch, sighing happily at the contact.

“I wonder how Lord Kento and Geto would react to you like this.” You tease, a smile unknowingly painting itself on your lips. 

Satoru’s face falls, features morphing into an appalled expression. You watch him close the distance between you through the mirror.

“Kento?” His voice had a dangerous lilt in it. You blink, unsure what spurred on the sudden tension in the room. “Since when were you so comfortable around him? He cannot satisfy you like I can.” He reminds you of the man’s castrated state as an eunuch. You wince.

“I have not gotten comfortable,” You’re careful to pick your words. Gojo’s possessiveness was something that was not easily tamed. “He simply provides good conversation while you are away.The palace is far too big and lonely while you’re away dealing with clan matters.” 

The only response you get is a quiet grumble. “You’re lucky that you’re pretty.” His large hand creeps its way into your hair again, undoing the hairstyle your ladies in waiting had spent a copious amount of time on earlier that morning. Gojo carefully plucks the extravagant silver hairpin from your hair, the dangling pearls clicking softly at the sudden movement.  His hands slowly make their way down to the kimono that you are wearing, hands ready to undo the obi.

Your hands softly hover his, “I fear that our roles have been reversed. Should it not be me who gets you unready, Your Grace?”

He chuckles and through the mirror you can see a smirk make his way to his lips, “I’d let you undress me any day. Just say the word, beloved.” 

You roll your eyes, but allow him to continue. It was moments like these with the Emperor that led you on to believe that there was a semblance of love between the two of you. 

How wrong you were.

PRESENT DAY

The sun has yet to meet the horizon when you arrive at the Inner Palace. The horse-drawn carriage that you and Yaga had taken is the only sound at the scene, clopping down the stone road and back to the Inner Court. You miss the serenity of the beautiful palace you once resided in, knowing that it will be bustling with life in just a few short hours.

In front of the large doors of the primary ceremonial hall where the Emperor spends most of his time, stands Lord Nanami, a counsellor to the Emperor himself. Time has only made his face sterner, but his neatly styled hair and blue and yellow dyed court attire remained the same. He waits patiently while you and Yaga make your way up the flight up stairs that lead up to the hall.

“I am glad to see you in good health, Yaga.” Nanami bows. 

The man next to you promptly waves his politeness off, thanking him for his hospitality. You stand silently while the two men engage in conversation regally.

Lord Nanami sighs, “His Majesty has been plagued by stress lately. To say I am relieved by your presence would be an understatement.” His statement is a subtle reminder that you must harden your heart upon entering the palace walls. The meticulously built walls were no longer a sanctuary for you, rather, a painful testament that you were no longer wanted. 

Yaga lets out a hearty laugh and it reveals a rare sight, Lord Nanami’s lips curving upwards by a slight. “I highly doubt the boy would be glad to see me. The appearance of the Imperial Physician is portentous.” He scratches his beard. You tilt your head in confusion at how he referred to the Emperor.

“I suppose, yet I am intrigued to find out how he will react upon seeing his object of affection flourishing anew despite the sting of frost.” Nanami audibly wonders. Even a fool could understand his eloquent comparison. The Emperor would be thrilled to see his consort in full bloom once again. You pray that the Heavens would grant you some mercy from witnessing such a scene.

“Youth,” Yaga shakes his head, chuckling to himself before regaining composure. “I mustn't keep the Emperor waiting. [Name], please gather the herbal ingredients to treat the young Consort as you seem fit. I shall confer with His Majesty and meet you in her chambers to declare a proper diagnosis.”

You bow, “Yes sir.”

While Yaga prepares to enter the doors where The Heavenly Emperor resides, your eyes couldn’t help but gaze longingly at the large bronze doors. 

“You seem well,” Nanami addresses you for the first time in over a year. Your eyes trail from the Emperor’s door to the blonde man in front of you. “Allow me to guide you to our herbal stock.” Nanami offers you his arm as you start to make your way down the stairs. 

You take it, lightly holding his arm.  “Thank you, Lord Nanami. Time away from the Inner Palace has been like a breath of fresh air,” You respond, ensuring your voice carries no malice. You hear the large palace doors from behind you open, the metal creaking loudly in the quiet dawn. 

“I must ask you to call me Kento,” He leads you down the stone steps. “We are old friends, it is strange to hear anything but.” 

You focus on your steps down the stairs, only responding once your feet meet the solid ground, “I fear that our social statuses have changed since then. It would be the cause of a scandal should anyone hear I am calling the Imperial Counselor by his given name. Your admirers would have my head on a stick.”

“Your imagination is amusing as always, [Name].” He gives you a closed eyes smile. You huff.

“I am only speaking the truth!” You insist. He chuckles.

“It is quite refreshing to see both you and Yaga again. I’m not sure how long it has been since I have been at the imperial physician.” 

You gape at his confession. “You mustn't skip your annual visits to the physician, Kento. It is in the best interest of your health!” You lightly scold him, lifting your hand to flick his forehead. It was a force of habit. “Perhaps if I have time after treating the Consort, I shall do a check up on you.”

Nanami clears his throat at your comment, the twinkle in his eyes dissipating as if your direct touch had burned him. 

“I would rather not lose my head.” He mumbles, eyes scanning the courtyard around the two of you. You knit your eyebrows, confused.

Nanami leaves you to fulfill his duties once you arrive at the Royal Kitchens to retrieve all the necessary items to treat Consort Himiko. You are glad that he did not accompany you into the kitchens to prepare Consort Himiko’s herbal soup. 

The memory of it still irks you.

“You’re late,” One of Consort Himiko’s ladies in waiting snaps just as you enter the kitchen. You look up to see a young girl, dressed in a light purple kimono. It must be Himiko’s signature, you note. It was strange to see someone outside of the Imperial family donning the color, but you suppose it was only a grand display of Himiko’s influence.

“You’re a lot more plain than I anticipated,” The other lady in waiting quirks an eyebrow, eyeing your appearance. You furrow your eyebrows, shocked by their rudeness.Their undying loyalty to their Lady was enough to fuel an unspoken hatred for you. Though you’re not sure that the two coincide, you don’t blame them.

The two are mixing a concoction that you don’t recognize to be used to treat the sick. The taller one adds some aromatics and herbs in and you see the other one unwrap a cloth to reveal a rare delicacy from the West. Cocoa, you believed they called it. 

Then it hits you– the two are not making a medicinal soup for their Lady, rather they are making an aphrodisiac! The image that conjures in your head makes you blanch. Back in the Outer Palace, Shoko had shown you the effects of the stimulant (you shiver at the memory of her shoving a treat laced with it into your mouth). It was certainly a night to remember.

“How pathetic,” You mutter underneath your breath, quickly rushing to obtain the ingredients you needed without making conversation with the two girls.

Fortunately, they pay you no further attention for the time you’re in the kitchen.

“Please excuse me,” You bow upon entering the Emperor’s chambers. Despite the Consort’s Pavilion being similar in size to a small town, you remember spending most of your time in the Emperor’s chambers rather than your own. It was probably the same case with Consort Himiko. You slowly place the tray carrying broth and medicinal herbs to treat the Consort down on the circular wooden table in the middle of the room.

Out of curiosity, your eyes can’t help but soak in the Emperor’s room. Not much has changed since you’ve left. His Majesty’s preference for minimalist decorations have stayed the same, along with his natural musk that fills your nose. You feel your face heat up at your own thoughts. How could you think of such a thing when you are about to meet his new lover?

Your gaze moves to his bed, where Consort Himiko resides– only to find nothing.

“Huh?” 

You observe his bed, silk sheets neatly made, seemingly untouched. The sounds of your sock clad feet patter on the wooden floor as you make your way to feel the bedsheets for any signs of warmth, but you are met with nothing.

“Don’t you know that entering the Emperor’s chambers can be punishable by death?” A deep voice from behind you causes you to jump in your spot. 

Your guard is immediately raised, head whipping to the sound. In hindsight, you should have never agreed to accompany Yaga on his trip. It was a foolish idea all along, you think as all of the air in your lungs dissipates upon seeing your former lover. 

Standing at the entrance of his own sleeping quarters is Gojo Satoru, his frame big enough to tower over the doorway. His arms are crossed over each other, electric blue eyes focused on nothing else but you. You press your thighs together tightly to avoid squirming anymore than you are.  He has loosened his dark blue kimono to expose some of his hardened chest, a sight any woman in the nation would die to catch a glimpse.  Even underneath all of the fabric, anyone can see his divinely sculpted physique.

“Your Grace,” You waste no time to dip your body deeply, praying that he will allow you to keep your head by sunset. “I apologize for the intrusion, I was under the pretense that Consort Himiko resided in your quarters–” Your voice loses itself in your throat when you see his shadow quickly encroaching.

“Himiko stays in her Pavilion,” He towers over you, eyes gazing down on you. “But one might suspect that you already knew that.”

Your eyes frantically meet his feet, desperate to salvage what was left of your dignity, “I assure you that I speak of the truth, Your Majesty.”

When he doesn’t respond, you slowly lift your head.

The flustered look on your face must have been amusing to him, as he makes his way closer to you, bending down to interrogate you further.

“Is that so?” He hums, enjoying every second of cornering you into his chambers. The back of your legs have met his bed, trapping you. You inhale sharply, trying to keep your breaths even, refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing the effect he had on you.

He continues, “You’re awfully skittish for someone who was happily skipping around my territory in the arms of another man just earlier.” His predatory gaze seems to darken. 

“Kento?” When his name leaves your lips, the man in front of you grits his teeth. You turn your head to the side, deliberately avoiding him. “With all due respect, Your Majesty, but I don’t see how Kento and I’s relationship is any of your concern,” He does not take your actions well, his gaze searing into you.

“It certainly is when the woman in question is you,” Gojo’s voice loses its feral lilt, distress flashing across his face. There’s a newfound desperation in it that chips away at your resolve. His hand raises to your face so slowly, as if he did not want to startle you.

“This is wrong. I– I saw a couple of servants earlier making aphrodisiacs, perhaps you could have unknowingly consumed them.” You tell him, frantic eyes meeting him. It is not unusual for couples to use aphrodisiacs, you know that after under Yaga. The Emperor must have mistaken the laced dessert for his usual. 

He shakes his head, running a hand through his white hair.

“You are mistaken. This is solely your effect on me.” He promises. You could barely believe his words, stuck between feeling offended or shocked.

“How could you stand to be so cruel?” Your voice is barely above a whisper. There are no tears in your eyes this time.  “I am not a courtesan you can buy for the night,” You snap, pointing a harsh finger to his chest. 

“What do you mean?” He sounds breathless.

“Whatever do I mean?” You scoff, a dry laugh escaping your mouth. “For a year, all I have gotten is pity from the world, because you decided I was no longer entertaining. You could have at least banished me away yourself. Instead, you sent Suguru who couldn’t even look me in the eye! Don’t you know how humiliating that is?” With every word that left your lips, more venom seemed to drip. Anger was prickling you all over, taking control of the rational part of you.

Gojo seemed to be taken aback by your outburst. It was far too late to take anything back now. If you lose your head by nightfall, so be it.

You dig a deeper grave for yourself when you take advantage of his moment of weakness to flee. He’s quick to react, attempting to grip your wrist.

“Wait, [Name], beloved–” He uses that all too familiar term of endearment, but it doesn't deter you.

You accidentally bump into the circular wooden table placed in the middle of the room. What an awful place to keep it, watching in horror as the Consort’s medicine shatters on the floor. To add salt to the wound, a vase you recognize to be specially gifted to the Emperor from a foreign nation tips off too before you can catch it. The sound of porcelain shattering fills the room.

“[Name]! Are you alright?” You hear Gojo ask from behind you, but you run over the broken shards before he can catch you.

Had you bothered to pay closer attention, you would have noticed articles of your clothing and a couple of your missing belongings littered all over the room– creating a faux impression that you never really left the palace.

Days passed by after the incident, and luckily, your head was still attached to your body despite offending and nearly endangering the Emperor. Yaga’s disappointment when you had told him what happened was made evident when he sent you home early after hearing the events that transpired, insisting that he can handle the Consort on his own. Normally you would have argued, but you knew better than to inflict Yaga’s wrath.

“Now you’ve really done it,” Shoko whistles lowly, walking in from the front of Yaga’s shop. 

You hide your face in your hands, “I made an absolute fool of myself, didn’t I?”

“A fool? No. A conspirator against the Emperor? Perhaps.” She dangles a scroll with a familiar seal on it. The Gojo Clan’s familiar emblem reflects off of the sunlight spilling into the room. Your heart drops.

“Oh, they’ll have my head.” You moan, hands instinctively lifting to shield your neck.

“Though I’m quite impressed that Yaga only sent you back here. He used to have worse punishments.” She shudders before impatiently unraveling the scroll. You watch her eyes gradually widen as they read the contents of the letter. The scroll falls from her hand.

You rush to it, desperate to read your fate.

To [Last Name] [First Name],

Greetings and prosperity unto you.

By the mandate of the heavens and the authority vested in Us, We hereby extend Our solemn words to you, [Last Name] [First Name], servant of the realm, in acknowledgement of your debt to the Empire.

In response to your unmeritorious deeds, The Emperor bestows upon you His imperial pardon from capital punishment. In consideration of your obligations and the harmony of the realm, it is hereby decreed that you shall serve as an indentured servant to the Imperial Household for a period commensurate with your debt. During this time, you shall labor faithfully and diligently under the supervision of Our Heavenly Emperor, performing duties essential to the welfare of the Empire.

By fulfilling your obligations with diligence and humility, you may yet earn favor and esteem in Our sight.

The Imperial Court

A loud gasp escapes your mouth.

You feel your legs weaken, your emotions running wild. Shoko’s eyes meet yours, mirroring your frantic gaze. In that moment, you are met with the same suffocating sense of hopelessness.

extra!

gojo was kicking his feet happily as he watched suguru draft out his letter to you. suguru thought it rather cruel, while the white haired male was too busy purring happily as he fantasized about having you back into his grasp.

previous chapter | next chapter [coming soon!]

[hannieehaee]

WANTED U

18 + / mdi

summary: everything about your relationship with minghao was perfect, leaving you with no complaints. except maybe in one area: minghao's stoic attitude during sex, making you entirely insecure about whether he wanted you as bad as you did him, or if he was maybe just too in love with you to let you down.

content: misunderstandings, established relationship, he's very very in love with reader, he's just a bit backwards, smut, afab reader, miscommunication (shocker), oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, dry humping, mentions of fingering, etc.

wc: 5.7k

a/n: based kind of maybe a lil bit on personal experience but 100% reimagined for fanfic purposes lmao

masterlist | kofi/patreon

support me through a one-time tip! <3

You were absolutely head over heels in love with your boyfriend. There was no way to fight it - not that you wanted to. It was as if his sole goal in life was to love you. He had even told you that before, claiming that his parents had been the greatest love story he had ever seen, and that he had wanted nothing more in life than to find a love like theirs. He'd said that his father had once told him, 'live to love, and love to live', advice which Minghao took to heart.

His father was a wise man when it came to love, even letting Minghao in on the secret that all his ambitions were driven by his love for his mother. Minghao had communicated their entire love story to you soon after meeting. You had only known each other for a short period of time before Minghao confessed to you, claiming that a friendship would not suffice for his heart, which had been taken by you upon your first meeting. He would've respected your decision if you had decided to remain friends, but was relieved to hear your enthusiastic agreement in becoming his girlfriend.

Being his girlfriend came with endless perks. For one, you got to be with the absolute love of your life; a man who was never shy to express his love to you through any means possible. He was also a successful idol, something that came with its troubles, but allowed you to see and support your boyfriend in all his passionate endeavors. He'd spend every free moment tending to you and showing you what it meant to be loved. There was no world in which you weren't completely enamored by the man.

You'd only been dating for four months by now. He had already introduced you to his friends and family, proudly letting them know that you'd be around for a long time, being completely certain that you were the love of his life. Sure, it might've been a bit soon, but the moment Minghao saw you, he knew you were the one. His certainty always made you a bit shy, a reaction which he'd kiss away by reassuring you that he'd never meet a love greater than yours. It was all perfect. You felt at home with his friends and family, quickly growing used to what would now be your forever family, as you also believed Minghao to be the one and only love you would ever come to know.

He showed you love through every means possible. He insisted on taking care of you financially, while also supporting your independent and professional endeavors. He took care of you emotionally, always lending an ear to listen to your problems and lips to soothe your worries. He'd constantly feed you with words of affirmation, almost as if he'd grow sick if he went a single day without you knowing how enamored he was. He'd make love to you ... and that was it on that matter.

Not to misunderstand, your sex life with Minghao was magnificent. There was no form of pleasure the man could not achieve to give you. He had you delirious with arousal with one single touch, making you beg even when he never demanded it from you. As many of his fans guessed, Minghao was just as experienced as he appeared. There was large variety of things he would entertain in the bedroom, never leaving you dissatisfied.

The issue laid in you, truly. Although you were always enthusiastic in the pleasure your boyfriend gave you, you weren't sure you could say it was the same for him. He would always shower you with endless praise and affection in every other circumstance, but while in the throes of passion the most you could really get out of him was a few muffled groans or one or two short-lived praises. You felt as if there was a imbalance in the pleasure you gave one another; almost as if he didn't want you as much as you did him.

You had recently realized that you were often the one to begin any sexual encounter, never having to beg for reciprocation, but also very rarely being enticed by the man himself. You almost felt embarrassed at the realization, having already been feeling a bit off at his lack of reactions towards you during the fact. Was he simply entertaining you out of pity? Did it not feel as good for him? Was he not into you physically as he was emotionally? You knew he always came when being intimate with you, always letting out a lone groan of your name when he finished. It was still hard to feel confident about your sex appeal when your boyfriend never gave you much to work with. You also felt a bit pathetic knowing he gave you the utmost pleasure while you seemingly gave him the barest minimum of it.

Talking to him about it was out of the question. You knew your boyfriend thrived off of healthy communication, but he hadn't mentioned any issues in your sex life, so you felt embarrassed to bring it up. Not only that, but you didn't want to come off as desperate or ungrateful. He was your best friend; the perfect boyfriend. You didn't want to open a can of worms that would have things go awry. So you decided to come up with a plan; maybe test your hypothesis.

Getting Minghao undressed and ready to fuck you was never too difficult. Just a few kisses and whispers asking him to please take care of you and he was ready to take charge. Currently you were in the middle of it, sitting on the couch as he kissed your neck, pulling breathy sighs out of you as you moaned his name, but received no reaction in return. You decided to act as usual, maybe gauge what got him going and what didn't. So far, he had spoken no words as he simply did what he knew you liked. He ran his hands through your body and kissed you deeply, drawing moans and whines out of you at the simplest of touches.

You felt a bit embarrassed, realizing how easy it was for him to get you going while it was the complete opposite for him. Now on the bed, he ground against you, still making no sound or any other indication of pleasure as he thrusted his hardness against you. You wondered how that felt for him. He was hard, so surely he was aroused, right? Shouldn't that equal some type of pleasurable reaction to the feeling? You weren't able to ponder on this for long, as he suddenly knelt next to bed, going straight to business against your heat.

"H-hao ... fuck!", you pulled at his hair, extremely sensitive to his touch as you usually were.

You couldn't help yourself in pulling at his hair, even grinding against his skilled tongue. You were completely lost to the bliss, moaning endlessly at the pleasure, unlike your boyfriend, whose only sounds were the slick of his tongue dragging against your pussy. If the tables were turned and Minghao was growing delirious on the feeling of your mouth on him, you'd be just as affected, getting off on the sound of his voice moaning out your name. So, you couldn't help but still feel disappointed at him eating you out with no further reaction.

However, the feeling of your orgasm overtook your disappointment, making you forget about any ill feelings and cumming against his tongue. What followed made you hollow out again, though.

He got up from his knelt position, nodding at you and asking a simple, "ready?" before undoing his pants and climbing on top of you, entering you immediately after putting on a condom.

You moaned and whined against his ear, scratching at his back at the pleasure; all things you usually did when he fucked you, but received no reaction in return. He'd give you the occasional muffled grunt, not even seeming like he was holding back, but more like he had nothing to give. It was a conflicting feeling. On one hand, you felt an insane amount of physical pleasure, but on the other, your emotions couldn't help but feel hurt by his lack of arousal towards you. Call you shallow, but you just wanted to feel like your boyfriend found you sexy, damnit!

"F-fuck, Hao! Gonna cum, don't stop. Shit!", it was easy for him to get you there, knowing all your weak spots by now. And it was just as easy for your body to take control of your mind, making you forget all worries as you came once again. He didn't take long to reach you, releasing into the condom with a grunt.

What made it worse was how sweet he was afterwards, calling you his beautiful girl and helping you clean up, only to cuddle you afterwards.

"You okay, my love? Felt good?"

Now, to any reasonable person, this would've been the perfect chance to speak up, maybe let him know about your concerns, but you just felt too pathetic. What were you supposed to do? Force your boyfriend to moan? Force him to give you the reactions you wanted rather than the ones that came naturally from him? You were supposed to accept him as he was, just like he did you. So, you responded with evasion.

"Yes, baby. Felt amazing. Love you."

You decided to go for a different approach this time.

Within the few months that you and Minghao had dated, you had really only spent a little under two months physically around each other. His job had a tendency of pulling him away from you for extended periods of time, so you were lucky if you ever got a whole week with him. This meant that the two of you would always try to make the best of the time you did get to spend together.

Within those two months of physical proximity, you two had a healthy sex life. You had sex for the first time only two weeks into the relationship, then proceeding to have it very regularly after that. Although, you were usually the one to initiate it.

In order to change things up, you decided to stop. You wanted to see how long it would take Minghao to approach you himself. Maybe gauge what it'd be like if you suddenly took it away. Would he react then? Would it feel better for him if you allowed a short period of time for things to mellow out?

The answer was no.

Only three days after your previous time having sex, he came home from dance practice, greeting you with a kiss. Except that instead of pulling away, he kept your lips connected, grabbing onto your waist to pull you close to him. Things went pretty much as usual after that. No words were exchanged (at least not from his side of things) as he undressed you and entered you while laying on the couch.

It was insanely pleasurable as per usual. His pace was slower than normal, and you heard a few more muffled grunts, which excited you like crazy.

"H-hao ..." you couldnt help but sigh as he angled himself perfectly to hit that sensitive spot inside you. You scratched at his back, arching your back against his chest.

He made no response, only going faster as he clearly realized your end was coming. He held you close to him, caressing your body tenderly despite the rapid movement of his hips. It was all perfect, sans the thing you wanted most; his lust for you. He cleaned you up afterwards, sheepishly apologizing for jumping you with no warning, giving you a quick peck as he said it. The conversation regarding sex ended there, with him expanding about his day and you yours. Had this been progress? You weren't sure.

Next attempt felt a bit pathetic.

You looked amazing. You needed no confirmation, you just knew it. You had bought a pretty lacy number, exactly in a style you knew your boyfriend would like. You hadn't had a chance so far to really dress up for him yet. So far, you had worn pretty panties and matching bras while being sexually active with him, but there had been no instance in which you really pulled out a whole set for him.

It felt a bit silly, resorting to perfectly trimmed lace in order to see if maybe your boyfriend would show some lust towards you. You even lit some candles, for god's sakes. This had to work, or else you'd feel like the biggest loser alive. You were a bit anxious, to be honest. You had never dressed up for a guy, but you'd heard it worked wonders in the bedroom. You knew the sex itself would be amazing, but you hoped that everything else also lived up to standard.

It wasn't long until you heard the keys unlock the door, which signaled that you should put into position. You had a matching silk robe, throwing it on as if to hide Hao's gift under a perfectly tied knot. He hadn't noticed you upon entering the room, having to do a double take to take notice of your pretty hair and makeup, way too fancy for an usual occasion.

"Love? W-what's with the look? You look beautiful," he approached you with a sweet smile, arms going directly to your waist

"Just wanted to do a little something for you, Hao. Do you like it?"

"Of course, angel. You look so pretty. Is there anything under the robe?", he lifted his eyebrow at you, hands playing with the knot.

"Find out?", you wanted to give him free rein, wanting to once more gauge his reaction. This was all for research purposes, after all.

"Oh ... Baby, you didn't have to do this ... You look gorgeous ..." he breathed out upon undoing the tie on the robe, immediately pushing it off as he ran his hands up and down your body. Yes, this was a good start. An amazing start, actually. He wanted you? That had been just your goal. His breathy sigh? God, that had you reeling.

He seemed to get distracted by the sight of your body being hugged by the expensive fabric, but eventually snapped out of it, shaking his head as if to get himself out of a trance. He kissed you after that, no longer paying any mind to the lingerie, nor to his previous reaction to you. He kissed and kissed you, same as he always did. Your moans against his lips fell to deaf ears, as he did not reciprocate with more moans of his own. You kissed him back, unable to not match his enthusiasm in making love to your lips.

What had just happened? You were going in the right track! He had suddenly just snapped himself out of it, basically willing the lust away. Had he wanted to hold back on purpose? Did you just need to incite him?

You let him kiss you for a while before gesturing for him to kiss down your neck, playing up your moans a bit and pushing your chest towards him. Eventually you placed his hands on your chest, now being a bit more direct.

"H-hao ... Do you like it? Did I do good?", okay, now you were a bit more embarrassed. You had never really delved into dirty talk with Minghao, much less submissive speech. There had never been a need since the man had no tendency to speak during sex at all - sans the times he'd check up on you. You hoped maybe he would react well to it.

"Yes, angel. You're perfect. Let me take care of you now, yeah?"

That was code for be quiet and let me get to business. Or at least that's how you took it. You were disheartened, but allowed him to continue, still enjoying his touch regardless of anything. You appreciated the compliments, but you did not feel sexy anymore. What you were feeling could better be described as childish and dejected. You felt like you'd shown a desperate side of yourself only to be met with nothing in return.

Your thoughts faded away the moment he began to drag his thigh between your legs, quickly drawing moans and cries of his name out of you. Was it that hard for him to do the same? What more did you need to do?

Logically, it didn't take him long to make you cum. You came in your lace panties, still earning a groan out of him upon feeling your cunt spasm against his bare thigh.

"Hmm, baby. Looked so pretty today ... Are you okay? Need me to clean you up?", he gave you a sweet kiss, running his hands up and down your sides in a caring manner.

"I'm fine, Hao, thank you. I, uh, what about you? Are you ... ?"

"I'm fine, baby. Don't worry about it," he smiled at you despite the obvious boner concealed by his shorts, "Get changed, angel. You'll get sticky and cold."

And that was it once again. Your outfit had given you a favorable reaction, but it died off quicker than you expected. You were back to square one all over again.

You had one final plan. If this didn't give you answers, you weren't sure how to proceed from there.

What if you pulled a 'Minghao' on Minhhao? Would he react if you suddenly became stoic while in his arms? It felt disingenuous, and the mere thought honestly made you feel a little mean, but you had grown desperate by now. It had been months of amazing sex that you were sure was gratifying only to you.

Next time you and Minghao found yourselves in that mood, you decided to lay pliant in his arms; not react to his touches and movements the way you usually would.

It was weird, not letting him know how much you loved his touch. You kissed him back, even held him back too, but your mouth was silent, as was your body. He kissed down your neck, soft hands touching at every corner that usually had your eyes rolling back, but you persisted. There were no reactions out of you, only muffled groans just like his own. You felt some hesitance in his touches, sometimes pausing as he didn't get the desired effect from his actions. He didn't vocalize his concerns, however, only continuing his path as he fingered you. His lips never left your skin as he worked you through your first orgasm.

It had been a feat, truly. The feeling of his lips against your skin was enough to have you mewling for more. His fingers curling inside you usually had you whining his name, but this time the most you could allow yourself to muster was muffled or broken cries as he drew you to completion. Even then he didn't question you, eyebrows furrowed in confusion with the question trapped between his lips. He moved on to undo his pants, prepping you a bit before sliding inside you. He let out the lone moan he always did upon sliding through you, but made no further noise.

You were going insane, toes curling and body completely tense, trying your hardest not to react. It wasn't just the pleasure, but your intense feelings for the man. The way he felt against you and gave you all his love through his touch. You felt like crying at the thought. Which is what you did without realizing. You couldn't help yourself. The love you had for your boyfriend was indescribable, even if you had been dating for so little. He felt the same, which was something he'd always let you know on the tender nights you'd spend sleeping in each other's arms. Right now, though, you felt like shit. It was hard for you to even enjoy his touch, which was a new experience for you.

Minghao must've noticed your cries, which had been louder than you realized, instantly halting his movements and checking on you.

"Angel? My love, what's wrong? Are you hurt?", he pulled away completely, still keeping his arms at your sides in an attempt to soothe you, but pulling his still hard cock out of you.

The sudden lack of proximity only made you cry louder, sniffling as you tried to catch your breath.

"Baby, tell me what's wrong, please. I'm so sorry, I didn't- I didn't mean to hurt you. Where does it hurt. How can I make it better?"

"Why- why don't you want me?", the question left your lips before you even realized, face heating up at your own words.

"What? Want you? What do you mean?"

There was still time to run it back, maybe make some type of excuse about why you'd been crying. But your emotions decided for you, not allowing your brain to formulate a lie before your mouth was opening again.

You took a quick breather, allowing yourself to catch your breath before responding. Minghao seemed to understand this, running his hand up and down your back in a soothing manner.

"I just ... I just don't understand. I love you, Minghao. I love you so much. I want you so much. Why don't you want me back? What do I need to do? I cant ... I can't keep doing this," you had stopped crying by then, but your emotions were still heightened.

"Love? I love you. What are you talking about? I'm in love with you, you know this. Please tell me what you mean? Tell me if you're hurt. I can't- I'd never want to hurt you."

He was now sitting right by you, your legs now closer while his hand came up to your cheek, wiping one of the last few tears remaining on your face. It made you feel like an asshole. He was being the amazing boyfriend you always knew him to be, reassuring you of bis affections while being worried for your wellbeing, not once stopping to care about himself. Meanwhile, you were crying because you wanted your boyfriend to feel lust for you. It was pathetic, really.

"I know you love me, Hao. You're the perfect boyfriend. I'm okay, I just ... fuck. I'm so embarrassed, I'm sorry. I don't want you to worry about me, it's so stupid, I'm sorry, I-"

"Angel, please stop apologizing. Tell me what's wrong. You don't have to be embarrassed. I need to know what you're thinking so that we can talk through it, okay? I'd never judge you," he was sincere in his words, taking on a soft smile as he tried to welcome the idea of an open conversation about whatever was on your mind. It was now or never, you guessed.

You took a deep breath, avoiding eye contact at all costs, "I feel like ... I feel like you don't want me."

"Want you how, angel?"

"I've tried everything Minghao. I've pursued you, I've let you pursue me, I've been loud, I've been quiet. Fuck, I even threw myself at you with stupid lingerie that you didn't even care about, but it never works. You don't want me, and it's driving me insane. I'm sorry, I know it's so stupid. I don't want to- I don't want to force anything on you or make you feel uncomfortable, but I feel so, fuck, I feel so pathetic. Like you have sex with me just to humor me. Like you're giving me something and I have nothing to show in return. I'm so- I'm so sorry."

You weren't sure what you were apologizing for. It was either the embarrassment or the warm gaze that wouldn't leave your own as you rambled.

"My love ... You think- you think I don't want you?"

"You don't have to humor me, Minghao, I already know. I've made peace with it, it's just .. tonight was too much. I tried to keep my emotions out of it, but it only made me break faster."

"Oh, angel," he closed the gap, pulling you even closer to him as he put his palms on your cheeks, drawing you closer while looking into your eyes, thumbs caressing the skin there, "I think I owe you an apology."

"No!", you grabbed onto his wrists, interrupting him before he could continue and separating yourself in the same breath, knowing you could never speak your mind while he held you so lovingly, "You don't have to apologize for anything. I'm sorry. I should've never tried to pressure you, I did this to myself, I-"

"I need you to let me talk, angel, please. I need to explain myself."

"Oh. I- okay. Continue."

"I adore you, my love. You know this. To think that you could ever think I don't want you breaks my heart. It's all my fault, I should've never done this, I- I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like I don't ache for you the way you do me. I want you in ways I can't describe."

"But-"

"Let me finish," his hands were back on you, one caressing your cheek while the other ran up and down your arm in an almost sensual manner, "You think I don't think about you every passing moment? That you don't plague my thoughts every day? My beautiful girl ... You're the prettiest thing I've ever had. Holding you in my arms as you writhe under me is the biggest form of pleasure I've ever felt. You- you think-" he took a deep breath before continuing, "You think I don't think about you on my lonely nights away from your touch? That I don't touch myself thinking of you; your curves, your soft skin, the way you cry my name ..."

"H-hao ..." your breath was just as heavy as his by now, mouth dry as you heard him recite his one and every emotion towards you.

"You think you don't plague my mind at the most inopportune moments?", he continued despite your interruption, "I think of you every day. When I'm at practice, when I'm performing, fuck, I think of you when I'm having dinner with my parents. Your body invades my every thought. You beautiful, gorgeous thing. I ... I've had to hold back. Didn't want to scare you away with the impossible lust I feel for you. Every time you let me have you, I have to hold back. I can never fully have you. I don't know what it'd do to me. I've wanted you from the moment we met. I've wanted to explore every inch of your body and make you mine. But your pleasure is my main priority. Always. As long as you're satisfied, I could never ask for more. But to think you ever believed I didn't want ache for you every passing moment pains me. I ... I want to .. Can I show you? Will you let me show you how badly I need you?"

"Please .. Fuck, Hao, please, I-"

He moaned the moment he finally connected your lips, hands going crazy at the way he squeezed and caressed every inch he could reach. His moans against your lips did not halt as you whined desperately at his kiss, relishing in the speech he had just delivered to you. What you were feeling was beyond lust at this point. You felt something you had never before, having waited months for your boyfriend to finally want you the way you did him. You weren't sure if he was playing it up for you, but you didn't want it to stop regardless.

"My love," he finally disconnected your lips, "Going to give you everything. Everything I've been holding back, I- I don't even know where to start."

His eyes could not stay in one place, darting around every inch of your nude body. You had known Minghao to be attracted to you, it was something he expressed many times, but you had never seen the calm man so frantic before. His calm nature was completely gone.

"You can do anything you want, Hao. Just, please ..."

He shut you up with yet another kiss, laying you down on the bed in the process. He dragged his dick against your cunt, groaning at the feeling. You were still drenched from your ruined orgasm from earlier, and he was hard due to your prior interruption, so it wasn't difficult to get the two of you ready for each other.

"Wanna be in you so badly, but .. Fuck, you just feel so good like this angel," he was grabbing onto your thighs by now, lifting them up in order to angle himself just right to drag his cock right against your clit. His eyebrows were furrowed and his face flushed. He was a broken version of himself, with his only purpose in mind being to bring the two of you the most pleasure imaginable. You felt like an idiot for never expressing your concerns to your boyfriend, not imagining that it'd end up so favorably for you. The pleasure you felt at his lack of self-control as he played with you couldn't compare to any previous time in which you'd made love.

He separated himself from you before either of you could come, muttering something along the lines of 'Wanna savor you, my love.' He still seemed frantic, not fully sure where he wanted to touch first or what part of you to enjoy at that moment. He went from kissing your chest to rubbing your pussy with his long fingers. He put you in all positions he could think of to kiss up and down your body, waxing poetic at you repeatedly as he sighed against your skin. The occasional times in which his cock would accidentally grace against you had you burning, wanting him inside you more than anything. Now that you knew he wanted you just as bad as you did him; now that he was fully yours.

"My beautiful girl ... Love you so much. The pleasure you bring me .. You have no idea. How could I ever let you think I didn't carry a torch for you night after night. Is this okay? Is it okay to want someone this badly? To ache for you day and night, only thinking of your touch?," he was finally facing you again, close enough to invade all your senses.

"Gonna have you now, okay, angel? Gonna show you how strongly I feel about you. How you make me lose all my inhibitions."

He entered you with no further warning, letting out the groan he always did, but this time his mouth would not stop running, moaning and sighing your name against your ear, letting you know how your cunt around him made him lose his mind.

"My most beautiful, girl ... fuck. Gonna break you ... I've held back for too long ... Need you every day," the way he was fucking you was nothing short of animalistic, with both his words and the slapping of your skin filling up the silence of the room.

"God, that day you showed up with that pretty set for me? Do you have any idea how difficult it was to not pin you against the wall and rip it off of you? Make you cry as you took all of me until every single drop of my cum was leaking from your cunt? The image has not left my mind for a single moment, angel. Can't think, shit ... Can't breathe without thinking of you," despite his insane dancer stamina, his breathing was becoming disheveled as he continued to piston into you.

You had thought that Minghao had already given you all types of pleasure throughout your relationship, but now that he had finally snapped you had truly reached heaven. And it seemed like it was the case for him too. He was unable to stop himself from telling you his every thought, with his emotions getting the best of him as he fucked into you almost animalistically. His fingers were bruising your thighs as he held you with all bis might; something you thought your soft and sweet Minghao was incapable of doing.

"Hao ... I need .. I'm gonna cum, Hao, please!"

"Yeah? Gonna let me have it, angel? Love when you cum for me. So soft and pretty, all for me. Cum, my love. Cum and I'll give you all of me in return."

The thought of his cum filling you up made you lose control, cumming as your back arched almost completely off the bed. You felt like you'd ascended, being given the most intense orgasm of your life, followed by a warm feeling inside you; the feeling of Minghao's essence penetrating you.

He almost fell on top of you as he finished, breath hot and heavy against your skin.

"My love? Are you okay? Was that too much?," it only took a few moments of silence for him to speak up, showing immediate concern for your limp and breathless state.

You had been more than okay, having never felt more loved and wanted in your life. From his words to his actions, Minghao had managed to make you realize how wrong you'd been all along. It wasn't that he didn't want you, but that he wanted you too much to hold back if given the chance to fully give himself to you. But now it was all out in the open. Now you could finally enjoy each other to the fullest extent.

"I'm okay, Hao. Thank you," you felt shy in the aftermath of it, now fully processing all the words of lust your boyfriend had whispered against your skin as he fucked you into the mattress. You had seen a side of Minghao you hadn't known existed.

"Are you sure? I didn't scare you off, did I?"

"Are you kidding? I've wanted you to do that for ages. I was going insane throwing myself at you!"

He chuckled, booping at your nose lovingly, "You were making my resolve break, my love. Wasn't sure how much longer I could go without going past my limit."

"Could've talked me through it at least once, you know. I wouldn't've objected," you humphed.

"How about I make up for it now, hmm? Let me clean you up in the shower?"

"Yeah? Gonna tell me how much you want me again?", you grinned against him.

"Yes, my angel. Every single day."

a/n: not proofread and i also had no idea how to end it my bad </3

[choerypetal]

Hide and Seek / Homelander

(pt 2. of Meet and Greet)

summary ; In part two of the meet and greet, Homelander's obsession reaches new heights, leaving him unsatisfied at his core and willing to do anything to make you his.

!! read part one first! ; !!

ps; english isn't my first language so i apologize for any grammar mistakes, xo' (as it will be eventually corrected if needed)

tag list; @private-eye-on-you ; @lins-shenanigans ; @horrorxgorewhore @siredtom ; @certain-tragedies ; @hotchners-wifey ; @naelis-open-sea

enjoy xo'

Homelander's comment, 'You look lovely in the costume,' lingered in your mind for a week. You couldn't escape his presence. His silhouette, his maddeningly perfect face seemed to follow you everywhere—from your usual coffee shop to the special limited editions of The Vought, and even as you continued watching the show for longer periods of time. From Deep's special cupcakes to the coffee most loved by Homelander, his influence was everywhere, not just keeping the city alive but himself as well.

Although you didn't realize it, Homelander had become just as obsessed with you as he was with seeing his own face on the cup you were holding. From a distance, he watched your every move—the way your plump lips touched the cup, how you drank your coffee, and even how you covered his image with your hand. Despite finding your behavior an offense, he knew he’d eventually have to tease about it. The sadistic man that he was, wasn’t afraid to even acknowledge it. Especially during their weekly Seven meetings. 

"So, I suggest we review some new recruits," Ashley said, her nervousness palpable. She wanted to please not only the public but, most importantly, Homelander. This was no easy task given recent events and the current situation. Homelander's obvious boredom showed his lack of interest, and Deep, poor thing, was just as disinterested, staring blankly at the screen and agreeing with whatever Homelander mumbled. However, Deep was secretly relieved not to have any of John’s powers. Especially right now. Because, at that exact moment, it was your face, and your face alone, that occupied his thoughts. Murmuring your name under his breath, he was fortunate not to get caught up in the moment. That of course, when a single cough from Ashley’s mouth was enough to slip his mind elsewhere. 

"You know, Ashley, just pick whoever you think will fit for now. Sign their papers. My brain is going to fucking explode from this hell hole," he said, standing up without even glancing at her. Not even Ashley's whiny complaints about the complications it might cause could stop him. He paused, considering for a moment that she might convince him. "Don't come to me for the next 24 hours," he snapped, his piercing blue eyes conveying a clear threat. When wasn't he a threat, anyway? "Or I'll personally fuck up every single one of you." That was enough to make her quickly nod in response. Poor thing, she only wanted to make him proud. A satisfied grin played on his lips, mirrored by Ashley's, though hers was a little more nervous. His, however, was genuine. 

You, on the other hand, had been fortunate enough not to see Homelander's face for a while. From the bookstore you frequented to the coffee shop, his presence seemed to pervade your life. Your mother didn’t help either, as she insisted on framing a picture of you with him in the living room—a gesture Homelander found endearing. On some nights, he would see you through the window, dressed in your pajamas, reading whatever caught your interest, with that picture always in the background. Unlike Homelander, it haunted your dreams.  

Deep down, Homelander struggled to resist the urge to invade your personal space, not wanting to frighten you. However, when he saw your forced smile at the meet and greet, he was reminded that a smile meant nothing to him. To him and you alone. It was your scent that drove him wild. At first, he considered going undercover, posing as one of your father’s coworkers, but he realized it would be futile. Why cover his own shame, when he could let his ego take it over?

So, he waited until sunrise. When he could finally entered your room, imagining you in your shortest pajamas, which hugged your curves so perfectly, he had to bite his bottom lip to control himself. Just by the thought of his fingers sinking into your flesh as you leaned toward him for more...

"Goodbye, Mom!" Your voice echoed in Homelander's mind as he realized he'd been lurking around your house since last night. He had been trying to dismiss, the missed call records provided by Ashley, however, unable to ignore them. Fortunately, he was hidden well enough that you didn’t notice him as you exited the house.

Your hair meticulously washed, your skin fresh with makeup, and that dress. Never in a thousand years, aside from his own enemies, did Homelander think he would become so obsessed with someone. He wanted to chuckle to himself at the irony, knowing he wasn’t being the most subtle superhero. When your gaze shifted toward his hiding spot, he quickly concealed himself behind a tree, exhaling in relief when you shrugged off the feeling of being watched. You then left for work, something Homelander knew all too well. This also meant he could meet your mother, who, after all, was his biggest fan. 

Fortunately, you managed to get through the day without a single client yelling at you. However, what you didn’t expect was an unexpected visit from the man himself. As you approached the door, you overheard some mumbling. Did your mother have a visitor today? 

And then it hit you.

Hearing the all-too-familiar voice say, "Oh, these look lovely," with a genuine smile, you froze in your tracks. Seeing your mother so happy, even more thrilled than a fangirl, like she’d seen god himself. She noticed you immediately. "My dear! Look who came to visit," she exclaimed, taking you into her arms for a hug. Before you could greet the guest, your eyes met his—Homelander, in your own home. 

"No need for theatrics, ma’am," he said with a casual chuckle, hushed by his own hand as he munched on the cookies your mother had made, casually wiping a droplet of milk with his thumb. Your mother giggled and said, "Mother is the name. We don’t have to get formal, right darling?" You blinked twice, hardly believing what you were hearing. Your mother was genuinely making Homelander feel comfortable, right inside your home. Given what you knew from your coworkers and the constant rumors, it was hard not to be creeped out by the thought that he might have done more than just a knock on the door that evening. Yet, you shrugged it off, thinking that perhaps playing the same game he did might be what he wanted after all. Like a cat and a mouse. 

There was a brief pause, then an idea sparked in your mother’s eyes as she looked at John one last time. "Why don’t you stay for dinner? Tonight is roasted chicken and mashed potatoes." How could he refuse? Spending more time with you was just the beginning of his obsession with protecting you and never letting you out of his sight. He smiled, his grin seemingly bigger than before, and nodded. "If Y/N doesn’t mind?" he said, his gaze shifting to you with a more serious expression. You gulped nervously, knowing you couldn’t just say no. "Yes—yes, of course," you stuttered. Oh, how adorable you looked.

“Then, make yourself at home dear.” 

Dinner was only just a few hours from now, with your father now back from work had asked for a personal photo with the Homelander, and a talk John appreciated more. Considering his own father exiling him completely, it was a breath of fresh air for him, especially when he’d be glancing a few times at you, doing whatever you had in mind before the dinner. “My daughter is going to be working for us,” your father would be saying proudly, Homelander could only nod listening actively. “She’d do a great addition I am certain.” his gaze now meeting yours immediately, when you gaze up from your book, he could notice a light shade of pink coming your cheeks. Cherishing it a little too much when your father’s voice then abrupt his mind, “She’s beautiful isn’t she?” he’d said a little too proud. 

She is indeed… Homelander thought to himself that same night. Just by how attentive he was with you. Even if it wasn’t  much of a conversation shared, the glances were enough to please him alone. Which during the dinner, he was not afraid to show. 

Dinner had passed rather quickly, you were glad it did. Considering you listening to whatever nonsense Homelander had to offer to keep your mother so relonctent toward him. Let alone, praise him as a her own god. Boosting an ego, to whom you couldn’t comprehend yourself, and that Homelander was sure to make it seem tonight. 

"Thank you so much for dinner, truly," Homelander said, wiping the corners of his mouth, his eyes never leaving you. Your mother’s gasp was enough to momentarily distract him, and he asked if everything was alright. She quickly assured him it was and invited him to stay until her cake was done baking. Naturally, John didn't decline the offer. "Y/N," your mother called your attention just as you were about to excuse yourself, "how about you give a little tour of the house? I'm sure Homelander would appreciate it." The formality of his name seemed daunting, but John quickly corrected her. "John it is. No need to be formal, now, do we?" A shiver crawled down your spine as your mother’s eyes gleamed with hope, her slender fingers clapping together. "Oh, well, of course! Now, Y/N, make yourself useful and make John feel at home." 

A sigh escaped your lips; there was no way to avoid this, was there? "Yes, of course. Where do you want to start?" Your eyes never left his, feeling yourself getting lost in them, becoming his little mouse to play with. "How about..." he began, his eyes wandering as if he couldn’t be bothered to think. "The bedroom," he finally said. You blinked twice, a third time to fully process his words. "What?" you replied, incredulous. He chuckled, amused by your reaction, and shrugged off the question as if he hadn’t meant it seriously. "Nah, kidding. Lead the way," he said. 

So you did. You felt his shadow hovering over you as you both walked through the house for a little tour. John was no longer hiding his presence, leaning in closer to you. You could feel his breath. By the time you reached your bedroom, the tour was complete, and your mother’s cake would be ready. However, John had something else in mind, and he wasn’t shy about showing it. “And this is the bedroom,” you said nonchalantly, hearing an obvious scoff from him. 

"Funny, isn’t it?" he said, this time his tone serious enough to make your muscles tense. His back was to you as his fingers touched the doorknob, ready to close the door. And he did, pausing momentarily. "Finally, we meet again." His remark made you tilt your head. Meet again? As far as you knew, he had been stalking you all along. But knowing who he was—Homelander, with his omniscience and twisted games—you had no say in the matter. Neither did you, especially after hearing his chuckle. 

“Now why so quiet?” the question was enough to make you unsease. You wanted to tell him, to oppose to him. But you couldn’t he was now yours to torment completely. When he leaned further, scoffing once more by your vulnerability. In that precise moment, Homelander knew he won. 

“Heard you were a good, fuck.” his voice so nonchanltly, a gasp leaving from your mouth as you were unable to speak more than standing right in front of him. How his eyes would wondered around your figure, approaching near to you, his fingers now leaning toward your waist. Gripping by its touch, hungry to fuck you there, in the bed. Raw. 

"Thank you?" you stammered, eager to please him. His grin broadened, fighting not to turn into a frown at your response. He was so satisfied that he gently caressed your cheek with his other finger. "You need me, not just to save you, but to satisfy you." Though your heart was broken, you were a toy Homelander cherished without fear. You were his perfect little toy, as he began to lick his bottom lip, his breath drawing closer, closing the gap between you. "Mine," he growled, his voice hoarse, undeniably hinting at his intentions. He was Homelander, able to do whatever he wanted. And that included you being his. "Got it, little mouse?"

Oh, how he longed to watch you squirm between his legs, begging for more, moaning his name. His persistence knew no bounds; he would do anything—from leaving bite marks to scratches, and even hickeys if necessary. But he couldn't just stand there without having a little fun, right?

"You see," he said, his voice dripping with teasing malice. Disgust welled up in your mouth, but you fought the urge to look away. He loved watching you squirm, the fear in your eyes fueling his twisted envy of every inch of you. "How about we play a little game tonight, hmm?" His thumb brushed gently over your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his.

"W-what game?" you managed to say, breaking your long silence. Even he was momentarily surprised, but your stutter made it worth it. "Hide and seek," he said, pausing for effect. "You hide, and I seek. If I find you, you're mine. Got that?"

You gave a quick nod, followed by a satisfied smile from him. "Good then, I'll start counting. One, two..." You hesitated for a moment, just as his grip shifted from your waist to your arm, preventing you from fleeing your own home. When your eyes met his, they were dark with passion, lust, and a desire to capture his little mouse until its very last breath. "Run..."

Little mouse.”

[dollfacefantasy]

kenny. omg. hear me out. being rick’s stress relief during the alexandria arc of s5 😵‍💫 like omg yeah he’s clean shaven now but can’t go two days w/o fighting w someone from alexandria, got restrained by michonne n everything… figures he needs smth else to keep the group in alexandria’s good graces and settles on smth along the lines of free use w you!! can’t be too shitty of a day if you get fucked into the mattress by the end of it ♡

hnghhh em omg i love you so bad. ur genius for this. i put a little backstory because i'm physically incapable of not being longwinded lol <3

rick grimes x fem!reader

rick needs a little stress relief with all the new responsiblities at alexandria

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, age gap (early 20s/late 30s)

You always thought stress was supposed to decrease someone’s sex drive, but now that you were getting fucked dumb every single night, you were sure that wasn’t true.

Rick had to be the most wound up person you’d ever known, constantly up in arms about something. Ever since he and his group arrived at your once peaceful community, there’d been nothing but conflict. At best it was petty drama, at worst guns were drawn and brains were about to be splattered all over the pavement.

The worst it got was that day you saw him in the middle of the street hunched over the doctor like a rabid dog. You’d stayed back, keeping your distance from him as he waved his gun around and rambled on about control. Crimson blood dripped from his hairline all over his face. You couldn’t tell whether it belonged to him or the incapacitated man beneath him.

You’d never seen anyone like him. Living in Alexandria since the start of the outbreak meant you were pretty sheltered. The people here rarely raised their voices let alone tackled each other through windows. He looked like the physical manifestation of what everyone warned you life outside the walls was like.

It was scary, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on.

Needless to say, you were pretty eager to offer yourself up to take the position watching him while the others decided what to do going forward.

You entered the room while he was still asleep. He was as peaceful as you’d ever seen him. Taking a seat in the chair beside the bed, you looked at him almost as if he was encased in glass, a specimen for your examination. His skin still had the scarlet tint of blood. His brown curls lie stuck between his temple and the ratty old pillow on the bed.

It startles you a bit when his eyes flutter open and connect with yours. Awkwardness sludges through your veins, but he looks you over like it’s nothing. You know you’re one of the least threatening people he’s come across in the new world. 

“You’re the one they got babysitting me, huh?” he rasps.

“I guess so,” you respond with more timidness than you would like.

His tongue slides out between his lips and licks the chapped skin while he continues to stare you down. It’s hard not to squirm in your seat, to shift your thighs against one another and make your desire known. Before you have a chance to think through your course of action though, he speaks again.

“Are you nervous?” he asks, his tone not looking to provoke a reaction but simultaneously wanting you to recognize your inferiority.

You shrug. He wasn’t gonna get the satisfaction. Not yet anyways.

“Are you scared of me?” he continues.

“No,” you answer.

“Good,” is all he says in response.

That was the last thing he said to you that day, but you could still hear the simple syllable in your mind. He might have been done talking to you. You weren’t through with him though. Under the guise of being assigned to watch him, you continued to linger around him as he went about his tasks in the community.

You tended to follow him around like a puppy. You were curious about him, watching him with inquisitive eyes, peeking over his shoulder as he cleaned his gun or tuned his transceiver. Your gazes were adoring too. It was obvious that you admired the way he could take control of a room with his words, how his people looked to him with reverence when he spoke.

He intoxicated you. In a world lacking things to do, observing Rick became a hobby for you.

He noticed of course, but he couldn’t say he minded. At least someone in this fucking place had an interest in survival and saw the value in listening to him. Plus, it didn’t hurt that you were pretty cute. He didn’t mind your company, didn’t mind teaching you things here and there. In his eyes, you were the least annoying out of all the new people here.

You both were on watch when you got a little promotion from least annoying. The two of you were sitting on the platform attached to the wall. It was night. Neither of you could sleep. Instead of telling you bits and pieces of the nightmares that kept sleep from him, he decided to teach you how to put a scope on a rifle. Nodding along to each thing he says, you watch his fingers and take note of every little thing he does. He gives you a few tries with it, but you’re still struggling to get the thing attached.

That’s when he looks at you, his expression unchanging, and pats his lap.

“C’mere.”

It’s out of your control really. You don’t even have a second to think about it before your legs have pushed you across the platform to the spot he beckoned you. With your back against his chest, his arms encase you and come around front to show you up close how to fasten the scope. When he’s done, he detaches it and makes you try.

His hands slide down your arms, lingering on the skin for longer than needed. They trail down to your sides then your hips. You bite your lip and try to focus on the task he wants you to perform rather than his touch. But then he leans forward to watch your hands work. His chin hovers above your shoulder. You can hear his breaths next to your ear. Once you’ve got it, you can essentially picture his subtle smirk in your mind.

“Good girl,” he croons teasingly.

You turn your head slightly, looking at him with your wide, innocent eyes. He chuckles and reaches up to stroke your cheek. Neither of you know what you’re really doing but one thing leads to another and you’re kissing. Then he’s got his hand up your shirt, groping your tits. It all comes to head and ends up with you straddling him, sinking down on his cock and burying your head in his shoulder.

Biting the fabric of his t-shirt to keep quiet, you begin to rise and fall. It felt so good as if it was what your body had been aching for. You felt the most alive you ever had in this shitty new world, and if the way he was gripping your hips and returning your thrusts were any indication, Rick felt the same way.

You both grunt and moan quietly as your bodies rut together with a primal desire for satisfaction. His lips glide over your collarbone and up your neck to the spot behind your ear. You let out a sharp whine which causes him to grin.

“Need you to be quiet, sweetheart,” he chides, “Don’t want to wake any of the others, do you?”

You’re quick to shake your head and cover your mouth with your palm, but you don’t stop bouncing. You needed him deep, rearranging your insides to a perfect mold for him.

“Then again,” he breathes, “They could stand to learn a thing or two from you. So obedient, eager to please…”

His words trail off as he helps you ride him. You’re so tight and warm, and for the first time since he set foot through those walls, his mind feels clear. He doesn’t hear the constant jabbering for his attention. His head doesn’t throb with the sensation of being pulled in five different directions. It’s like each thrust into your heat clears away a worry. By the time he cums, he feels drained of all his stress.

He needed more of that feeling. He couldn’t get enough of it. It was the start of a routine for the two of you. Everyday at least once, you were getting fucked till you were a drooling, dazed mess. And sometimes it was more than once. Sometimes he had you on your knees in the armory in the afternoon or pulled you into a storage closet on a morning supply run.

He had fifteen years on you, but most of the time he was the one leaving you exhausted.

And today had been a particularly bad day for Rick. Everything that could go wrong did. Alexandria was running low on a collection of different things, walkers were gathering at the East wall, one of the gate’s locks was rusting, a sprinkler broke, and on top of everything, he had to deal with everyone’s constant bitching.

The only thing that kept him from losing his shit was the thought of you laid in his bed at night waiting for him, batting your long eyelashes over those pretty doe eyes as you sat there in nothing but his t-shirt and a pair of panties. The end of the day couldn’t come soon enough.

He grits his teeth and dashes all across the community to try and get everything solved by sundown. The workload keeps him busy which fortunately makes the time go by faster. He also tries his best to keep his cool with people. There was no use starting petty conflicts when he had something much nicer to screw with now.

As soon as everyone’s headed off to bed and all the perimeters have been checked, he can’t get home fast enough. He’s quiet coming in. He didn’t wanna wake anyone. If someone got in his way now, he’d flip his lid worse than any of them had ever seen.

He’s up the stairs in seconds, taking them two at a time. Whisking the bedroom door open, a deep sigh seeps from his lungs as he sees his daydreams become realities of the night. Your pretty legs are on display for him as you lounge in the bed reading a book. He crosses the room and grabs you by the ankle to pull you closer to the edge of the bed. You already know what time it is and feel a dull tingle in the pit of your belly.

“Stressful day?” you ask as you finish the page you were on.

“Is the sky still blue?” he grumbles as he presses a kiss to your calf then another further up against your knee.

You smile at the quip, placing the book on the nightstand just in time as he flips you over onto your stomach. He climbs on top of you, squeezing your waist and nuzzling his face against your neck.

“Those people don’t even know how much they should be thanking you, baby,” he mumbles, “They don’t even know how many times a day you save their asses.”

You squirm a little beneath him as his fingers hook around your panties and tug them down. The sound of his zipper follows and it’s no time before you feel the weight of his dick against you.

“Needed you so bad all day,” he says.

“I needed you too,” you whimper as you feel slick gathering between your thighs.

He nips at your earlobe and rubs his hands up under his shirt you have on to tease the sides of your breasts.

“S’cute, honey,” he whispers, “Thinking about me while you did your little chores, hm?”

“Yeah,” you whine as he starts to line himself up and slot himself in the correct position.

It was such a familiar feeling, but each time it still made a chill run through you. Your insides ached with the pleasure that came from being filled up by him.

“Perfect girl. That’s just the way it should be,” he mutters.

He wastes no time before he starts thrusting. It only takes a couple before he starts groaning too. On nights like these, he was in no mood to take his time or savor the moment.

“So tight for me, Christ,” he chokes out, “There’s nothing like you.”

You moan softly too, putting your head down to muffle your sounds with the blanket. His hand rests around your neck for leverage as he fucks into you faster.

“That’s right, pretty baby. You’re so good for me. Givin’ me what I need. You’re the only one who can,” he grunts.

He snaps his hips harder, trying to find the limit of how hard he could go without being too loud or smacking the headboard into the wall. You claw at the ratty blankets on the bed as your toes curl. Your head turns to the side a little to peek up at him, and his eyes roll back.

“Everyone’s always fucking looking to me for something. No one can look at me like you can though. Those gorgeous eyes, all glossy for me. Not a thought behind ‘em right now,” he pants.

You nod weakly while digging your teeth into your lip again. It was getting harder to suppress the noises with the blanket alone.

“Rick…” you whimper, “Oh fuck, Rick.”

You gasp as he starts hitting the perfect spot. His stiff cock slips effortlessly in and out of you over and over and brushes that nook each time.

“Mhm. You’re the only one I wanna hear calling my name. Everyone here’s always whining for me, bitching for something. Not my girl though. The only time I hear you whining is when I’m balls deep, fucking you like you deserve,” he whispers.

You nod against the mattress. Your body rocks with the momentum of each thrust. Every stroke was working you closer to the edge, and Rick could feel his own impending as well.

Both his hands slide down to your hips to grip them hard. He keeps grinding and rolling his hips into you.

“Give it to me, princess. Lemme feel it. Gotta get my fix,” he says just as you start to tense up and jerk around below him.

You cum with a high moan into the plush fabric beneath you. Your body trembles and twitches as it handles the rush of euphoria. He keeps fucking you through it. His own noises start getting needier, closer to whimpers than groans. He grunts for a second as he finally feels release. He pulls out quickly and lets it spurt all over your ass. He’d so much rather do it inside, but he really didn’t need something else to worry about nine months from now.

With his release, the both of you are able to settle down for the night. He rolls off of you and quickly gets you cleaned up, so he can crawl into bed and hold you against his chest. The second most soothing thing to your pussy was the warmth of your body against him.

“So good for me, sweetheart. Always make things so good for me,” he sighs and lazily kisses your head, ready to drift off with the comfort of knowing this little scene would repeat itself tomorrow.

[lixzey]

mine, forever mine.

one two

Timothée couldn't help but smile as he watched his girlfriend, Y/N, sleep peacefully. She had looked so tired that he hadn't had the heart to wake her up, even though they had planned to go stargazing tonight.

He sat beside her, taking in her beauty and breathing in the smell of her. Timothée's heart thundered in his chest as he watched her sleep, her gentle breaths like a soothing melody to his ears. In the darkness of the night, he couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and admiration for the woman who lay beside him. She was like a delicate flower, beautiful yet strong, fragile yet resilient. As he traced his fingers over her skin, he wondered how he had been lucky enough to find her in the chaos of their world. Her laughter was contagious, and her smile could brighten up even the darkest of days. She had this way of making him feel like he was the only person in the world, and he loved her for that.

Timothée remembered how they met; fate had intervened in the most unexpected way, and he was grateful for that every single day. She was his best friend, his confidante, and his lover, all rolled into one. He couldn't imagine his life without her. When they first met five years ago, Timothée thought that she was way out of his league. Saoirse had convinced him to go out with one of her friends for lunch, and it was love at first sight. Timothée remembered that day vividly. He had been so nervous; his palms were sweating, but he was determined to make a good impression. He had put on his best outfit and made sure he was impeccably groomed. When she arrived, it was like the sun had suddenly come out and lit up the entire room. She was so beautiful and graceful, like an angel that fell from heaven, and he could hardly take his eyes off of her. Somehow, she had been able to see past his awkwardness and insecurity and accept him, no questions asked. She had quickly put him at ease with her warm personality and friendly smile.

It was like a spark of electricity that lit up his world, and he never looked back. He had never felt so alive before, and he knew that he was meant to spend his life with her. From their very first date, Timothée and Y/n had created the type of bond that most people spend their entire lives searching for. It was clear that they had a connection that would never be broken, no matter the circumstance.

Timothée admired how Y/n seemed to find happiness in the simplest things, always appreciating the beauty and little wonders that life offered. Y/n didn't deserve to get all of this hate, she was the purest soul. She taught him to slow down and accept life's imperfections, something he had struggled with in the past. Every time he looked at her, he thought the same thing: how lucky he was to have her in his life. For as long as he had known her, she was soft yet resilient. She had compassion and creativity.

Timothée was beyond grateful to Saoirse for setting them up in the most unexpected way. He couldn’t imagine his life without her. Y/n completed him in ways he never knew were possible. She knew his deepest fears and his darkest secrets, and yet she loved him unconditionally. She was his rock, his safe haven, and his home.

There were so many times that Timothée was certain she was going to walk out of his life. His career always got in the way of their time for each other. He always asked himself why she was still with him after all of the shit he'd put her through, like that one time when Y/n told him she was going to make dinner for him and completely forgot. But despite his shortcomings, Y/n stayed. She loved him because of who he was, and she assured him she was not going anywhere. Timothée was sure that his woman must have the patience of a saint, because sometimes it terrified him.

Timothée wanted to show her off and brag to the world about her. He wanted to tie the knot with her and spend the rest of his life with her. But his management stood in the way of that. He imagined them sitting on the porch of a cozy house, holding hands as they watched the sun set over the horizon while their children ran around, chasing each other through the yard. He couldn't imagine anyone else he'd spend the rest of his life with.

Suddenly, he had an idea.

I'm going to show her off, whether they like it or not.

Sighing, he leaned in to kiss her forehead. “Thank you for loving me, mon amour. I'm going to make it up to you. I love you.”

“Where are you taking me, baby?“ You asked as you fidgeted with the cloth that covered your eyes. “Is the blindfold really necessary?” 

Timothée chuckled. “Be patient, mon amour. We're almost there; just hang in here tight."

“Can you give me a clue where you're taking me? Come on, babyyy!” You whined, your nose scrunching in annoyance, making your boyfriend laugh.

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “Fine, laugh.”

It's been a week since the article blew up. You didn't give it any more attention; instead, you focused on your boyfriend, giving him all the love he deserves. You spent the week cooking for him, which he highly appreciated after a long day of working on the go.

Now, your boyfriend is taking you somewhere blindfolded. You had no idea where he was taking you, but knowing your boyfriend, it was another one of his surprises.

Suddenly, the car stopped abruptly. You heard your boyfriend get out of the driver's seat before opening the door on the passenger side.

"You ready, mon amour?"

“I can't see a thing; I'm absolutely ready.” You rolled your eyes at him—not that he could see it, though.

“There's my sarcastic girl.” Timothée chuckled, taking your hand in his and leading you out of the car.

Timothée slowly led you from behind, telling you when to turn and when to walk straight. After what felt like hours, Timothée finally instructed you to stop. You felt the soft grass beneath your feet and heard the faint background hum of a crowd of people. Finally, someone removed the blindfold, and you blink several times, trying to adjust to the sudden brightness. When your eyes finally adjusted, your breath caught in your throat.

The entire gazebo was lit up with twinkling lights, like thousands of stars had been scattered across the ground. Rose petals decorated the entire path leading to the middle. Timothée's family stood beside yours with huge grins plastered on their faces. Both yours and Timothée's friends were also there, smiling brightly. Bystanders stood around with cameras everywhere, trying to capture the moment. Suddenly, your eyes widened when your eyes landed on a familiar brunette; Kylie Jenner was smiling at you from the sidelines, giving you a thumbs up and silently urging you to go to your boyfriend.

You slowly walked towards your boyfriend, tears shining in your eyes as you realized what was happening. Timothée grabbed your hands, and life began to blur out around you as he began to speak.

“The very first time I laid eyes on you, I knew you were the one. You looked like an angel that fell from heaven, and I could hardly take his eyes off of you. You have this way of making me feel like I'm the only guy in the world. How have I been so lucky to find you amidst the chaos of the world? Your smile could brighten up even the darkest of days. You were like a spark of electricity that lit up my world. You taught me to slow down and accept life's imperfections. I can't imagine a life without you, mon amour. You are my rock, my safe haven, and my home.” His voice was shaky, but his words were clear and true.

Timothée fell on a bent knee, a beautiful diamond ring in his hand. His eyes were full of love and admiration. “So what do you say, my beautiful angel? Will you marry me? ” 

Tears welled up in your eyes as you gazed into Timothée's green eyes. “Yes,“ you whispered, your voice barely audible over the noise of the crowd around you.

“Yes, I will marry you!” You threw your arms around him, feeling his warmth and the beat of his heart against your chest. The crowd erupted into cheers and applause, and you felt as if you were floating on cloud nine. You leaned in close to Timothée and whispered, “I love you, Timothée Chalamet,” and you meant it with all your heart and more.

Timothée slipped the ring onto your finger, and the two of you shared a kiss that felt like forever.

You couldn't believe that you were engaged to the man of your dreams, the man who had swept you off your feet and made her believe in true love. You looked around at the smiling faces surrounding the two of you, feeling overwhelmed with happiness and gratitude.

“I hope you get used to my fans looking at you, mon amour.” Timothée chuckled, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I want to take you around the world. They don't have to understand. I'm going to rub it in their face that I put a ring on your hand.”

You giggled, kissing his nose. “That'll take a bit of getting used to.”

“I'm going to show you off, whether they like it or not.”

“You're the one.” You whispered, before capturing his lips in yours. “Mine, forever mine.”

You couldn't wait to spend the rest of your life with him, the man you love, your soon-to-be husband.

Your fiancé, your future, your Timothée, yours. 

@helens3amstuff @gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @lovemelikecrazyiloveyoucrazy @tchalamss @tchalamss @ashlynnmalfoy @crazycat-ladys-blog @michakune @mxltifxnd0m @spencerr3idd @dangelnleif @sthkate @ferrjulie @imnotoverlyobsessive @mel-vaz @elsagreeer @lovely-maryj @meowmeowmau @bobthe-turmpetman29 @saintcosette @this-is-me-lolol

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

suguru’s knuckles are tainted with blood.

oftentimes, you think of yourself as supportive — supportive of him, his passions, supportive of the career he chose. you’d really, really like to think so. 

moments like these make it difficult to say that with conviction.

(he won, of course. suguru always wins.)

but his knuckles are bruised, splotches of purple and blue seeping into the skin, split and dripping with droplets of red. it smudges your palms, when you reach out to take his hand into yours; warm, trickling slowly down the valley between your fingers.

your brows furrow, in badly concealed worry. suguru notices, because he always does.

“don’t worry,” he says, voice a soothing salve to your heart. honeyed, like a coo is resting at the tip of his tongue, waiting to be let out. “it doesn’t hurt.”

he’s lying. you know he’s lying. wounds like these hurt, no matter who you are — even if you’re 6’3, all muscle, a professional boxer with several trophies under your belt. even if your hands are big enough to cover your lover’s like a warm blanket, envelop them wholly, the way he’s doing now; wiping the bloodtrail away with his thumb. even then, it hurts to bleed.

(don’t worry.)

”… how could i not?”

suguru softens. his eyes, still gleaming with the afterglory of victory, crumble with warmth, with fondness. it makes him look a bit like an angel.

his hands, meant to ground you, withdraw for a moment — one of them slipping down to capture your wrist. he leans forward, and presses his lips against your fingers, your knuckles, right up to the center of your hand. softly, chastely.

(he always does this, bends down to reach you. there’s never any need to chase him.)

”i’m sorry,” he murmurs, breath hot against your skin. forehead still damp with sweat, glistening under the dim lights of the locker room. you tuck a sticky strand of raven hair behind his ear, and he smiles. ”that was a mean thing to say.”

”it was,” you agree, gaze still stuck on the bruising.

a raspy chuckle leaves his lips. “forgive me, sweetheart,” he exhales a softened breath, leaving the ridges of your knuckles. ”i won’t tell you how to feel. just don’t want you anxious, you know that.”

”… of course i’d be anxious,” you can’t help but mutter, struggling to keep your spite at bay; lips curling down into a frown. ”you’re hurt.”

”barely,” he soothes you, massaging your hands with his big palms. you should tell him to stop, to just let his busted hands rest, but it feels too good. ”i’ll be fine. and i gave you a good show, didn’t i?”

you snort. ”a little too good…”

suguru breathes out a chuckle, and you can’t help but smile. remembering his form, his punches and jabs, the fire in his low-lidded eyes — it’s always a treat to see him in the zone, even if it leaves you sick with worry. and when he gets truly heated, sweat running down his abs, heavy pants leaving his lips in time with his dodges…

well.

it’s hard to hate it. hard not to enjoy it. even though you have to close your eyes, every time he takes a hit. 

”made you proud?” he asks, awfully polite for a plea. leaning closer, a magnet to your touch, bare thigh brushing against your own. tilting his head, with a softness the average person wouldn’t think him capable of. he’s anything but gentle, in the ring.

he’s silly for asking.

”of course,” you whisper, letting him come as close as he wants. his lips are inching closer to yours, and you say the words without thinking. it’s instinct, muscle memory, you don’t have to try. ”always. you did so well, suguru...”

a hum. low, pleased, buzzing at the base of his throat. his eyes flutter shut, smile creeping up his lips, and you know it does more for him than you’ll ever know — living up to your expectations.

”did you think i was cool?”

a breathy giggle spills from your lips. he cracks a single eye open, pouting, leaning closer still; as if the distance between you could kill him. breath ghosting against your teeth, a shiver trailing down your spine.

”’m serious.”

”of course i did,” you huff, eyes bright with laughter, lips melting into a grin. ”of course you are. pretty sure my knees buckled, once or twice.”

now he’s laughing, and it’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever heard — breathy and raspy, like a trail of smoke, going straight into your lungs. he closes the distance between you, then, still chuckling slightly. grinning, teeth against teeth, stars lighting up his eyes. 

your bruised up angel. 

(yours to patch.)

”let me see,” you mumble, pulling away from the clumsy kiss, fleeing from his hands at the same time. wrapping yours around his, instead; the warmth doesn’t have time to leave him. you examine his purple knuckles, once more, still leaking crimson. ”does it hurt when you move your fingers?”

he tries to close his fist, testing the limits, not quite making the cut. unfurling his fingers, one by one, with a low hum. ”just a bit… feels more numb, really.”

a crease forms between your brows. two sharp teeth digging into the skin of your bottom lip, as you mutter. “… did you already take painkillers?”

”coach gave me some,” he nods, untangling his fingers from yours — lifting just one hand up, bringing his thumb to your forehead, to smooth away the worried crease. ”i barely feel it, anymore. really.”

you wish it was enough to put your heart at ease. but it’s still restless, still trembling, puppeteered by the anxious thread that keeps it tethered to your veins. 

”… and you know i’m used to it,” he adds, smiling sweetly, hand slipping down to cup your cheek. tugging a little at your lip, silently urging you not to bite down on the tender flesh. ”you don’t care, though… do you? my little sweetheart.”

(… uh oh. he’s shifting into mother hen mode.)

you breathe out a sigh, standing up from the bench, before he can start babying you properly. unfurling your fingers from his, reluctantly, not really wanting to let go. ”i’ll clean it. c’mon.”

suguru simply smiles, tilting his head to the right, disheveled bangs following along. fully aware of his own charm, when he’s like this, sweaty and tuckered out — chest exposed, droplets dripping down his stomach, stopping near the trail of hair just below his belly button. you could do without the injuries, but he’s still lethal like this. eyes gleaming with pride, something pleased, when he notices your lingering gaze. you clear your throat, and his smile grows.

when you step away, suguru gets up too. trailing after you, like an overgrown puppy, all the way to the sink, dirty with rust — this venue is older than what you’re used to from his sponsors. but it’s fully functional, cold water spurting out the tap and running through the gaps between your fingers.

you adjust it, until it’s almost lukewarm, and put your hand out towards suguru.

he places his palm over yours.

then you bring it right under the tap. both of them, eventually, watching as the blood gets washed off his fingers and trickles down the drain — a murky spiral, muddying the clear water. you clean the wound as thoroughly as you can, with a wet cloth, without putting too much pressure on the bruising.

suguru gazes at you all the while. waiting.

he’s always been good at it.

”… there,” you exhale, a gust of anxiety leaving your lungs. the pressure on your chest feels lighter, but it’s not enough; your hands start digging through your pockets, through band-aids adorned with sunflowers, a blister pack of paracetamol, fingers curling around a roll of bandages. his very own first-aid kit, always within reach.

without you having to ask, he holds his hands out. letting you work in silence, wrap the bandage around his hand — beginning at the inside of his wrist, twice around, moving up diagonally to the bottom of his ring finger. around, around, making sure it’s not too tight, but firm enough to help. before long, both his hands are covered in cotton gauze, the bruising nowhere to be seen. you can’t help but feel better, even though you know it’s still there.

when you look up, into your fiancé’s eyes, his eyes are crinkled at the edges. he looks terribly fond.

”… thank you, honey.”

(your angel, the inside of your mind repeats. your precious boy.)

his hands radiate warmth, gently cradled by your own. his heart pumping fiercely, hot blood flowing through his veins, even below the coverage. you let out something like a coo, a caring little noise, leaning forward — tipping your head down. you press your lips against his patched-up knuckles, all of them, and you can practically hear the hitch of his breath.

you kiss him with all the care you can muster. like the wounds will disappear, if you cover them in love.

suguru can’t bear it.

”angel,” he musters, and you want to correct him, but you know he wouldn’t pay it any mind. ”look at me?”

you do. drawn to him, a flicker of light, gazing up at him through lidded eyes. he cups the right side of your jaw, and leans in close — one kiss to your cheek.

then another.

”you’re too sweet,” he murmurs, almost agonized. ”too sweet to me, i don’t deserve it.”

you should smack him for that. you won’t, though.

”… you do,” is all you say, shoulders slumping just a little, a breathy exhale slipping past your pursed lips. ”you deserve it. and your knuckles do, too.”

an amused huff of air, ghosting against the skin of your neck as he travels down. leaving a trail of butterfly kisses behind him. ”do they? after they made you all worried…”

”because someone doesn’t look after them properly,” you scoff, smiling all the while, squirming when his lips meet your pulse-point. ”don’t blame your poor hands for your career choice, they didn’t ask for this.”

suguru laughs, and you can practically feel it; his chest rumbling along, like a joyous thunderstorm.

”sorry,” he murmurs, pulling back to look you in the eye, his own sparkling with delight. ”you’re right… good thing they have you to look after them, hm?”

”mhm.”

another little breath of a laugh. he reaches for your head, fingers threading through your locks, ruffling your tousled hair with a cotton-clad hand. gently.

”well, i’m sure they’re very grateful, too.” he gives you a smile, and it burns straight through your lungs — almost piercing, in this dim corner of the room. ”we’re lucky to have you, sweetheart.”

a small grin tugs at your lips. at his praise, his attention, just the way he looks at you. suguru has a way of burning brighter than anyone else, even in a crowded room, a turbulent boxing ring. your eyes remain on him, him, him, and it isn’t just his stature, his broad shoulders. it’s his charisma, blinding, a bullet in a loaded gun — the click just before your finger meets the trigger. it demands attention.

(you couldn’t look away, even if you wanted to.)

silence stretches, unwinds, settles somewhere in the space between you. it’s comfortable, being in the same space as him, just resting idly, with his hand falling down to rest at your back. your heart at ease, safe and protected. both of you.

before long, you’re reaching for his face. peaceful, but still gleaming with something like pride, a little sticky with the residue of sweat. his chest moves, the fat of his pecs lifted up, and down, in tandem with his steady breathing. the back of your fingers meet his skin, running against the apple of his cheek. 

”… congratulations,” you whisper, soft with pride, even fiercer than what he must be feeling. ”… on another victory, suguru.”

and his eyes soften, again — inevitable, bleeding heart between battered ribs. he smiles, looking at you like you’re the prize he’s bringing home. 

”for you,” he croons. ”always for you.”

(he’s too sweet; but you already know. he always looks right at you, after the finishing blow.)

suguru leans into your touch, and puts his hand over yours, and you think to yourself that he hasn’t changed at all — in all the years you’ve known him. he’s still that bright-eyed, fire-in-his-veins kinda guy, still just as tender as he’s always been. bruised knuckles, bloodied hands, and all. when he asked you out, he made a promise to protect you — your knight in shining armour, always there to keep you safe.

you’d thought him a bit of an idealist. a romantic. 

but that’s the thing, about suguru, about everything he does. he doesn’t know how to sweep memories under the rug, how to love people without wanting to bleed for them, without tearing himself open and letting them see inside. he doesn’t know how to love in a way that doesn’t feel a little like a blow, and he keeps his promises the same way he catches a swinging fist with his palm; without trying.

you don’t think there’s a language that could hold his love. that could translate it properly.

(maybe boxing is all there really is.)

“… are you tired?” you ask him, after a brief pause, lightly pinching the fat of his cheek between your fingers. watching his nose scrunch up. “wanna go home and sleep?”

“yes, please,” he mutters, a weak smile and a soft groan. “feels like my knees are about to buckle.”

you let out a laugh, raspy with the same fatigue he must be feeling, only tenfold. “oh? what happened to the tough guy act, all of a sudden?”

“i’m always your tough guy,” he tuts, but it doesn’t sound very confident when he has to stifle a yawn in the same breath. nuzzling into your palm, like a sleepy kitten. “tough guys need their rest, too…”

a soft, sleepy grin. “especially tough guys who have been throwing their fists around all day, huh?”

“especially those, yes,” he hums, eyes fluttering shut. “those guys need some extra care.”

“i’ll have to pamper you, won’t i?” you wouldn’t mind at all. he only gives you the chance when he’s a little too exhausted to pretend he doesn’t need it. “make you tea, tuck you into bed? kiss you goodnight?”

at that, he lets out a weak scoff. cracking an eye open, a single slice of amber dye, gleaming with amusement. “extra care. not coddling, angel.”

“oh, don’t be like that,” you coo, almost letting a bout of laughter slip between your teeth. pinching his cheek, again, while he feigns a little frown. “you’re my tough guy, aren’t you? you can take it.”

a breath bubbles up from his throat, too sleepy to be a proper giggle, but dangerously close. dangerous for your heart, the adoration already urging you to pinch his cheek again, maybe bite his exposed chest a bit. he’s so cute it makes you angry. the cutest, most gentle boxer in the world.

“if you say so,” he hums, and you know he craves some pampering if he’s already relenting this early. “what the baby wants, the baby gets.”

“exactly.” your smile is so big it’s hurting your cheeks, but you can’t help it when you look at him. “and my baby wants to go home, doesn’t he?”

a huff. he can’t hide a smile, either. “ah, now you’re just upsetting me on purpose, aren’t you?”

he says that, but his hand still finds yours, fumbles for it in the dark. cotton gauze on warm skin. he squeezes it, gently, and then it’s moving again — curling around your waist, guiding you towards the exit, his jacket hanging on the coat rack. made of wool, a little oversized, even on him. he drapes it over his shoulders, dragging the zipper up to his neck.

then his hand finds your waist, again. 

when you pull the door open, cold air flows into your lungs — a tingle down your spine, the tips of your fingers, cool and crispy autumn air. the dark sky greets you, suguru’s car parked just outside. before you can even shiver, he’s tugging you closer.

“don’t worry,” he whispers, squeezing you against him, eyes rich with care. “i’ll warm you up, sweetheart. just stay close.”

he gives you another blinding smile, the lamp post above you like a halo over his head. breathtaking. your angel, your protector — your big, wooly wolf. 

suguru keeps his promises. he holds your hand, all the way through the car ride home, bandaged skin on top of yours. he melts the cold around your heart, melts all your worries away. supportive, always.

you want to be the same, for him. a pillar of support, something to lean on — a hand to hold, a roll of bandages, a rock to ground his unsteady feet. you want to be there for him, watching him shine. there to meet his eyes, when they search for yours after a narrow victory. there to give him the love he needs.

if he’s the bruise, then you’re the disinfectant.

(you’ll be there, to patch him up.)

[kitchen-spoon]

Steddie where Eddie moves into a small house in a retirement mobile home park. He is the youngest guy there and is pretty handy. All the old ladies in the neighbourhood start to talk about him when he begins to offer his handyman skills to them as well.

One day after finishing up winterizing Mrs. Harrington’s water supply to her trailer she invites Eddie inside for some tea to warm up. Winter hadn’t hit yet but it was already nippy out she told him. Once inside she invites him to come over Sunday night to join her and her friends ‘book club’. At first Eddie politely declines but once she explains to him that its all the old ladies in the neighbourhood sitting around drinking wine, smoking joints, and gossiping he’s in.

Enter Steve who visits his grandma every Sunday for dinner and sometimes stays for her gossip sessions with all the other bitties in the neighbourhood because the snacks are always great. Steve is surprised that week when the door bell rings and a hot long haired pierced man covered in tattoos is standing there instead of another old woman handing him her coat and cane. Steve sputters for a moment but then his grandmother is coming up behind him explaining this is the young man who fixed her water supply for her.

“Well um, thank you for that.” Steve nods awkwardly, watching over his shoulder as his grandmother waddled away back to her friends. “You didn’t have to come though, sorry if she twisted your arm about it, she’s stubborn.” He rubbed at the back of his neck with a small chuckle.

“It’s okay I really don’t mind.” Eddie smiled easily, inching his way into the house and Steve’s personal space. “Smoking weed with a bunch of old ladies and gossiping about my new neighbours sounds like a great way for me to spend my Sunday.” He winked.

“I- yeah it is pretty fun.” Steve agreed having not moved at all. “The snacks are always great too, you’ll have to try Betty’s blondie cake it’s always my favourite.” Steve leaned in to whisper conspiratorially.

Eddie beamed back at him, eyes roving all over Steve’s face before pausing at his lips for a second then darting back up to his eyes. “Lead the way then big boy.” Eddie bit his lip at how red Steve’s face got, he decided to push it slipping his hand into Steve’s.

“Yeah- uh sure yeah.” Steve nodded dumbly staring at their connected hands for a moment before snapping out of it and tugging Eddie along. “Everything is set up in the living room, I just got the fire going to so it should be warm.”

By the end of the night Eddie and Steve were melted into one another on a small single seater in the corner of the room. They watched as all the ladies gathered their coats one by one as their husbands came to collect them.

“It’s sweet.” Steve sighed unprompted, his head lolled against Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie made a questioning noise so he continued. “Seeing their husbands come walk them back home at the end of the night. They aren’t annoyed that their wives are giggly and a bit wobbly they are just happy they are happy and want to be there to take care of them.”

“You are a sappy stoner Steve.” Eddie teased, he moved his hand over and dropped it onto Steve’s thigh giving it a squeeze. “Can’t say I blame you though, it is very cute to see.” Eddie sighed before unsticking himself from Steve’s side and making his way to the door himself. “I better get going, no husband to come walk me home”. He blushed at the implication of his own words.

“I’ll be your husband.” Steve blurted then immediately turned red. “I mean- I meant that I uhum-“

“You can walk me home Steve.” Eddie smiled wide and teasingly. He looked his arm through Steve’s and tugged him through the door, waving goodbye to Mrs.Harrington with a promise to be back next week.

The walk was short considering Eddie was only 2 houses down and one across. They kept their arms looped the entire 3 minutes they walked, and once they reached the door Steve still hadn’t let go.

“Well goodnight.” Steve spoke first, ducking his head away. He took a deep breath then looked back to Eddie determination on his face when he spoke. “See you next week?”

Eddie smiled but shook his head, “I was hoping sooner, how does Wednesday sound?” He moved in closer his hand sliding down to Steve’s waist.

“Wednesday is great I love Wednesday.” Steve nodded frantically then cringed. “I mean I don’t actually love all Wednesday’s just this one because we are-“

Eddie cut his rambling off with a kiss. He leaned in and connected their lips, his free hand coming up to cradle the back of Steve’s head.

Steve melted into the kiss, his body going lax in Eddie’s hold, “Thanks for saving me from embarrassing myself further.”

“Anytime sweetheart.”

[boyfhee]

이희승 、PRETTY GIRL

featuring ⋆ bsf!heeseung, hints at friends with benefits

warnings ⋆ slightly suggestive, use of endearments, profanities, jealously on heeseung's side, toxic undertones? i'm not too sure on this one ( 0.9k )

notes ⋆ something has been so so wrong with me recently i can't come up with anything that doesn't involve making out

“hee, how do i look?” 

heeseung is sprawled on your couch, scrolling through his phone when he looks up at you, raising an eyebrow. you’re waiting for his response and he’s taking his time— eyeing you up and down, the way that pretty dress hugs your body. you’ve even done your makeup, flaunting that lip tint you had bought recently, that makes your lips ten times more kissable. you never dressed like this for him.

he sighs, putting his phone aside, and sits up straight, not a single emotion on his face. “are you going to the library to study or on a date?”

“ah, did i over do it?” and you’re asking in the cutest and quietest voice, looking down at your outfit and oh how much he wants to tell you how gorgeous you look. 

but you aren’t all dolled up for him. it’s for your project partner— that asshole you have also been studying with for finals for over a week now. and it’s ridiculous how he— or anyone of those losers around you think they stand a chance, when you end up in his arms every night, at the end of all. 

“no,” yes, he wanted to say. “not at all,” so pretty for someone who’s not me.

he gets up from the couch and makes his way to you— you look prettier up close. heeseung is aware of it. he wants it to be his little secret, who even does your study guy or whatever thinks he is? heeseung takes your hands and pulls you closer, just looking at you, admiring you. maybe he should keep his pretty little best friend all to himself.

and you don’t even mind since you’re used to this. the closeness, subtle touches, holding hands, comfort, advice— it’s what best friends are for. “but you said i look like i’m going on a date.” 

he chuckles at your cute reaction, the pout, the slight frown. how cute. it’s adorable how you always take his words seriously, he’s the one person you can rely on, who you trust blindly. sometimes, heeseung feels bad for having feelings for you. would you even care if he confessed? or would you just cut him off? he’s your precious best friend after all, who you’ve known since you two were toddlers. 

“i meant to say that you look too pretty,” is he even allowed to feel this way?

you laugh softly at his words, a bit flustered at his words even though he has complimented you a thousand times. “well, i’ll get going then, ‘seung,”

truthfully, it’s also your fault. 

those smiles and giggles, your gaze that searches for him in a crowded room. you never forget to invite him to a group hangout, it’s one benefit of being friends with your friends. those nicknames you call him and only him. he’s the one you run to when you have problems. you live in his apartment more than your dorm— it’s your fault for making him feel all this. for making him like this.

you try to pull your hand back to leave, but instead he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer, pressing himself against you. this is wrong, you know, he knows. too bad, it’s not the first time. worse, he doesn’t care. 

“hee—” you gasp in surprise, but your words end up coming out as a sigh once he presses his lips against your neck. he can feel your hands on his shoulders, trying to push him away and the swift motion in which they instinctively wrap around him. and you do realise it’s your fault. you always end up giving in anyway. it’s a bad, vicious habit— he pulls, you push, and then give in, and the way you react to things he does drives him insane.

sure, your project partner could wait for a while. he doesn’t deserve you anyway. 

“you’re so pretty, angel,” he whispers next to your ear, giving it a soft nibble before pulling back and looking at you with those enchanting eyes and a smile that sends your heart into a whirlwind. he calls you angel like it’s your name, and he whispers compliments ever so softly and sweetly. it’s what you had asked him for— to tell you how you look, and heeseung is good at doing that. he has got your back. “so gorgeous,”

it’s what best friends are for. 

the next thing your mind registers is his sweet lips on yours, the taste of cherries and vanilla from the shortcakes you two had earlier lingering on your tongue, and then your mind goes blank. you’re pulling him closer, he’s busy savouring your taste, taking in your every breath, every little sound you make as he kisses you so well.

heeseung bets that guy you’re so excited to spend time with can’t even make you feel half of what you’re feeling. you’re always going to end up coming back to him for more. after all, no one knows what you want better than heeseung.

the sound of your phone ringing snaps him out of his thoughts. he looks at your slightly red lips as you reach out for your phone, but heeseung beats you to it. he grabs your phone and grins when he sees the caller ID— it’s your study buddy— hands caressing your cheeks as he answers with a smirk. “sorry, my girl will be a bit late today. hope you don’t mind,”

he hangs up, phone somewhere around, and his lips are back on yours again.

[noxtivagus]

hdflkjasdklf i'm just thinking of certain characters n stories hehe

[sorryimananti-romantic]

Light

angel!mafia seonghwa x chemist!mafia reader

evil man possessed by an angel who falls in love with the evil chemist who is basically a devil au LOL

genres and warnings: angst, suggestive, mafia au, obsession, morally black ppl again, mentions of drugs, human experiments (a few details), violence, blood, themes of corruption and forbidden love, lmk if i missed anything, dni if uncomfortable ^

word count: 32k (oops i did it again)

synopsis: when you summon an angel to enhance the town's drugs, the angel ends up being stuck in seonghwa's body- the mafia boss who supplies the drugs itself. the line between good and evil start to blur, complicated by your feelings for each other which lead you to make some difficult choices.

manager-nim: @eightmakesonebraincell (she insisted hwa pure evil i said your wish is my command)

Good and evil must coexist in order to survive.

Without evil, there cannot be any good in this world. Evilness creates the need for good. And if there’s only good in the world, there would be no reason or purpose anymore. There must be evil for there to be a desire for goodness. 

Good and evil are the two elements that weigh down the pans of a weighing scale. They hover in the air, tipping up and down endlessly, never balancing because there is always too much evil or too much good at each fraction of time in the world. Perhaps, it is meant to be that way- perhaps, that is the balance this world needs.

Similarly, there is also good and evil coexisting in an individual. Sometimes, there is more good than evil, while other times evil outweighs the good . People can argue if humans are inherently good or evil but it has never mattered- if you live in society, you will learn what is considered good and what is considered evil.

However… sometimes when you look at Park Seonghwa, you wonder if all the foolish rambling about evil being an inherent trait might be true after all. You’ve known him almost all your life and you are convinced that the man does not possess a single good bone in his body.

Again, it was arguable. What is the criteria of being good or what ultimately labels you evil? Perhaps, he is good in an unconventional way- though there’s hardly been evidence of that when all his good intentions have an evil motive. Maybe that was his purpose on earth- to make sure the scale does not tip too much towards good.

A tiny part of you thought that maybe he was the only person holding the burden of that responsibility- but then you would look in the mirror and realise you were no better. You would scoff at the audacity to judge the poor man when you yourself were his equal in every way. Perhaps, you possessed a few morals, but you had always been reprimanded on that. 

You could not be a good human in your field. Not when you were making sure that the society was entangled in the web of your deception- attracted like flies to the things that glittered like gold but were dark at their very core.  Not when you fed the people with the lies of pleasure and they willingly took bait, losing the conscious part of themselves that would ever warn them that maybe this was not a good idea.

Not when you were the devil who was ruling both the underworld and the world from the shadows. 

You did not need to be a good human when you were manufacturing and producing drugs. You just needed to possess a brain that functioned better than the average human, possess a heart that did not function as good as the average human, and finally, stay away from whatever you created. 

Bonus points if you had a little streak of-

“This is insanity, sweetheart.”

That. Insanity. The key ingredient.

“But insanity has always made sense. Especially when it comes from me,” you pointed out and Seonghwa couldn’t help but agree, uncomfortably crossing his legs while sitting on his office chair and contemplating deeply.

“Theoretically, it can work-”

“Theoretically,” Seonghwa reminded you with a pointed glare that was a warning to not get too ahead of yourself. He never failed to assert that he was ultimately the one in control. “Theoretically, anything is possible. But if you really believe that angels exist-”

“I don’t have to believe that they do,” you insisted. “But I have to try.”

You were unsure about this, that was true. Summoning demons for ritual was something common in the underworld, though you had never witnessed it yourself, having heard that it was better to avoid that. You had suppliers, though, claiming that they had stored the ‘essence’ of the demons that they summoned. The essence was a powerful thing and had to be mixed in miniscule quantities in large amounts of the base product for it to work- you learned that the hard way too. It took you years and an uncountable amount of dead test subjects to learn that the human body could not tolerate the essence of a demon unless it was barely there. 

Did you believe that demons exist after all these experimentations? It was still arguable, but the vials of the essence stored safely in your lab was proof that the world was not only home to humans and animals, but other creatures too. You recalled observing exorcisms when you first started studying dark arts, hoping to expand your knowledge and mix the scientific and the supernatural. You once convinced the mafia lord to join you.

That sure did end well. Here you were, seated right in front of that mafia lord, trying to convince him that if humans could successfully extract demonic essence to create the ultimate drugs, they could extract the essence of an angel to create something new too.

It could change the course of this world, if you were right. You had no idea if the essence would work like the demonic one. Maybe it worked similarly, but at least you would have the satisfaction of having tried. There was a chance though that the angelic essence could open new opportunities for your business. And if it had medicinal properties, you could control the capitalistic net too. You could rule the world. 

“Come on,” you insisted, getting up and walking around the table to lean against the surface, bending down just a fraction to meet his eyes. “This could be our salvation, Seonghwa.”

“Or doom,” he challenged, leaning forward while still seated, his fingers going to play with the lapel of your coat. “This could go very, very wrong. I can’t lose my mad scientist now, can I?”

You smirked. “Is that all I mean to you? Mad scientist?”

“You know what they say,” Seonghwa shrugged. “Behind every drug lord is a mad scientist.”

“They don’t say that, but sure,” you scoffed. “Come on. We’ve been partners for years now. Give me some credit, and let me try this. I’ll only try it once, I promise. If it doesn’t work, we let it go.”

Seonghwa considered your proposal- he always let you try stupidly dangerous things at least once, no matter the fear in his heart that he would end up endangering your life. He told himself he did not care for you, but that you were simply someone essential to him and his business. He convinced himself that he had no attachment towards you as someone who grew up with you and survived with you in the darkest period of his life.

And you believed him. That he really did not have any personal attachment towards you. You were just someone useful to him. You always said that you returned the sentiment, but you were more human than him in some ways, and being human meant that you inevitably caught feelings for him. 

Not that you would ever admit that to a soul. They could pin you on the very stretcher you tied your test subjects to, cut you open or drug you but nothing could be capable of extracting that confession out of your mouth.

It didn’t help that the person in question was the Park Seonghwa. He could look like an angel and a demon at the same time, and that was perhaps the worst combination you could have encountered. It was his ability to transform his face into the epitome of innocence that was his weapon. He had bewitched every person that possessed any semblance of power, took advantage of any individual that could be of use to him, whether alive or dead, and climbed his way to the top.

And you had been by his side all along. Partner in every sense, sharing brains and planning schemes in the dead of the night, alone in the woods huddled against each other because you had a single blanket that you managed to grab when you both ran away from the orphanage. He was too busy leading the path to worry about grabbing anything useful, he told you. 

You had been by his side all the years that you spent after, being protected by him when he teamed up with the street gangs and earned for both of you. You helped wherever you could, his little mad scientist from the beginning, experimenting with drugs and burying your nose in books, observing the doctors and surgeons who were expert on cutting up people to extract organs, learning every practical skill you needed to stand on your feet and make Seonghwa proud.

And you did. You made him proud and you made him strong. You cut ties- in the most literal way- with your previous gang and emerged as a strong duo, Seonghwa operating in the light while you worked in the shadows. He kept you close, within an arm’s length. He made sure you had everything you needed- a roof over your head, food in your stomach, a lab for your experiments, and him. 

You were too afraid to ask him if he would treat you the same had you not excelled in this knowledge. You already knew the answer to that. That man possessed no human heart, and the moment you would be useless, he would stab you not in the back but in the front, locking eyes with you and proving that ultimately, it was him in charge. It was why you never risked saying or doing something stupid, because you were content this way.

You were content with the way his fingers travelled up the lapel of your black coat, finding the skin on your chest just below your neck where the shirt stopped him. You were content with the way he traced patterns there as he weighed the pros and cons of trying this damned ritual. Him locking his eyes with you and holding no hint of remorse that was otherwise a permanent expression in his eyes was enough. The squeeze of his fingers around your neck was enough.

And whatever his decision was… it would be enough too.

“Alright. Just once. It should not go wrong, you understand?” 

You failed to stifle your smile, soon grinning and Seonghwa chuckled at the way your eyes so dangerously twinkled. 

“A devil about to summon an angel. Who would’ve thought?”

“Two devils,” you corrected. “You’re coming with me.”

“Oh, no, no,” Seonghwa shook his head adamantly. “I trust you. I’ll send men-”

“No, you need to witness this moment, Seonghwa,” you insisted in all seriousness, your eyes widening just a fraction. “If it’s a success, we will change the world. You need to be there. For me.”

Seonghwa thought he heard just a bit of an underlying threat in there but he chose to ignore it, like he always did. Only you could talk to him in this tone, demand anything- even his life from him. He had already given you all his life, like you had given him all yours. 

He could give you this, too. It made sense- and he really needed to witness this one himself, otherwise if it worked, he was positive he would never believe that they weren’t manipulating facts.

“For you,” Seonghwa nodded. “Make sure it’s safe, and have some human offerings ready in case we need that.”

“I don’t think an angel would be interested, but sure,” you gently pushed his hand that was playing with your hair away. “I’ll have everything ready- we’re doing it exactly a week from now. May the Lord be with us.”

Seonghwa’s cackle roared in the room as you exited. You felt like you were floating in the clouds, now that you had his approval.

You would prove that angels exist, hence proving there was good in this world.

And then you would wonder where the good in your old friend’s heart went.

“More candles?” One of the men helping you with the summoning ritual asked.

You looked around the room before turning your attention back to the book you had borrowed from one of your crew members in charge of collecting demonic essence. He was under the impression that you were trying a different demon summoning ritual, and you intended to keep it that way- not everyone needed to know that it was an angel you would be summoning.

“It’s not a fucking birthday party, those are enough candles,” you said and when Seonghwa snickered under his breath, the man skittered away.

“Someone’s on edge,” Seonghwa elbowed you lightly and you looked at him helplessly.

“I’m just trying to make sure this won’t be unsafe even if it goes wrong. The candles are just for aesthetics.”

“Ah, is that so?” Seonghwa looked around. “And the circle they’re sketching? Will that serve as a cage?”

“The spell and the items I’ll place around the room will serve as the cage, the circle is just a location pointer, you could say,” you explained, shutting the book and taking a deep breath. “I’m going to make a final check. Can you ask everyone to get out of this room and wait?”

“Will you really be here when they summon the angel?” He asked and you nodded. “Do you have to be?”

“Yes, I have to be,” you told him for the umpteenth time, beckoning him to go away. “I’ll be safe, don’t worry. And if anything bad happens… it’s not like you care anyway.”

Seonghwa narrowed his eyes at you and you grinned- you had a habit of making these jabs and he was quite used to that now.

“I’ll keep your word for it,” he promised. “If anything bad happens, don’t expect me to come barging in to save you.”

“Got it,” you sighed, putting on a show of offence. “If I die tonight, it was me who stole your precious diamond ring.”

“I know,” Seonghwa smirked and you stared at him, slack-jawed. He only shook his head and turned away, clapping to get everyone’s attention and asking anyone who wasn’t conducting the ritual to leave the room. 

The room fell silent once again, the hushed voices of the people present inside echoing off the walls. You weren’t sure if the chilly feel to the room was because it was in the basement of an abandoned building in a very remote area, or because of the deed that was about to take place.

You waited until everyone had left before taking your position at the far end of the room. Your partner’s crew members naturally knew what to do as if they had trained for this their whole lives. They set the holy items at the four corners, and then some unholy ones at the other four corners, creating an eight-pointed star. Once you were satisfied, you went to pick a holy sword- the sword you had earned after your contribution to the dark arts, the very sword that had given you the idea of summoning an angel.

You dipped it into the tub near you, collecting wine on its blade, its translucent drops marking the earth with evidence of the forthcoming act. You turned your neck to look at the window, finding Seonghwa and the others- human sacrifices- waiting. Seonghwa shared a nod and you fished out his lighter from the pocket.

Once the sword caught fire, you walked with heavy steps to your final position in the front so the angel would meet your eyes. You put on your shades for caution like the rest of them did, and then you signalled the summoner to begin.

The sound of his spell filled the room- it sounded foreign even to him, considering the way he stumbled upon the words- the words for this spell were different from a demonic spell. The summoner sliced his palm and let his blood taint the etchings on the floor, continuing muttering the spell.

For a moment, you wondered if it was all a waste as seconds ticked by without a movement but a collective gasp sounded across the room when the flames of the candles blazed angrily. You gripped the hilt of the sword tightly, keeping it raised in the air. You tried not to let the fear gripping your heart get to you as the temperature in the room dropped significantly.

When the summoner said the final words of the spell, the final call to have any angel in the vicinity answer him, a strong breeze circulated around the room, blowing out every candle and almost extinguishing the fire on the sword. You gulped to swallow the scream forming in your throat, the sword in your hand the only source of light now. You thought you heard someone knocking at the window but the little glimmer of light in the centre of the circle had caught your attention.

Slowly, the glimmer turned into a blob, which then turned into a shapeless source of light- blinding golden light so bright that it appeared white, harsh enough to make your eyes water even through the shades. You narrowed your eyes to focus but there was too much going on-

Especially the warning song echoing inside you- you knew that it wasn’t coming from you. It was coming from that being and everyone else in the room could hear it too, considering how they started backing away.

“Stand your ground,” you ordered, and the men stilled. Your word was as important as their boss Seonghwa’s, perhaps even more important than their own life. “Make sure the barricade remains intact.”

It was only then you spared yourself a moment to meet Seonghwa’s eyes through the window, who looked astonished, his eyes wide as he tried to comprehend the glorious sight in front of him.

The glorious sight that was now taking the shape of a person, the edges sharpening enough to make out its silhouette yet remaining blurry. It seemed to be a crouched figure, taller than anyone you had ever seen, a cascade of hair covering the entirety of its upper body and anything that was not covered by its folded wings. There was no need for a halo when the being glowed from within, though even if there was one, it was too blindingly bright to make out.

“Which little bird summoned this weary angel? Pray tell, pray tell...”

Oh, you were doomed. 

“Was it the man that connected us with blood? Was it the man that offered me good, or was it the one that chained me with the bad? Pray tell, pray tell…”

The said men were now leaning against the walls, praying to whatever god that had sent his angel here to save them. Save them from what? It was too late-

“Or is it the little bird that holds the key to my freedom?”

Key to freedom? You looked down at the lit sword. You recalled reading something about how such a holy relic could also be used to undo spells and though you had thought the information was insignificant, you were wondering if you needed to undo the spell right now-

“What purpose must I serve to earn my freedom?”

The tone of the angel turned soft, almost beckoning you forward. You weren’t sure if the angel was speaking out loud or if the voice was still inside your head. You dared to take one step closer before you felt a crushing sense of weight on your shoulders.

“It is I who called you,” you managed to say. “I have questions to ask.”

“You called me to satisfy your humane curiosity?”

There was a warning in his soft voice now. A warning that one wrong move would ensure your end. You looked helplessly at Seonghwa who was no longer present at the window and you wondered where he was. You thought you heard the creak of a door open but he wouldn’t be stupid enough to come inside, right?

You contemplated making a deal with the angel, but your tongue fell limp. With demons, you had heard that it was pretty easy when it wasn’t one of the stronger demons. A little deal, some nasty business, ensuring their essence would do damage that they would like, or in rare cases, a price to be paid usually got the work done.

What could you offer the servant of God? What could an angel need?

“Do I really hold the key to your freedom?” You asked, a strange tugging in your mind. The angel lifted its face just a fraction- you still couldn’t make out its features but you could tell that it was staring at you.

“I have a feeling that you do.”

And you had a feeling that this wasn’t about the freedom from this spell anymore. Entranced, you took another step forward, and another, unable to deny the pull. The being was ethereal and you had no chance against it. You had no chance, and you had no choice but to step inside the circle with this sword, damned be the consequences, damned be the very familiar voice shouting at you to stop-

It all happened too quickly to process- you were suddenly and forcefully being pulled away and the angel latched out, the sword falling on the ground with a dreadful clatter that echoed in the air, intermingled with the shrieks of the people present in the room. Your eyes widened when you noticed the tip of the sword within the circle.

This was the end. 

“Get out of here, now!” Seonghwa ordered through gritted teeth in your ear, pulling you away with him and you went along this time, trying to tell him that it was too late, that he shouldn’t have come inside.

He would later wonder why he went inside. Perhaps, the angel himself had called him. Perhaps, he had been attracted to the angel’s pure energy when he was the embodiment of darkness himself. 

And if that was the case, why did the angel choose him as his medium of freedom?

The last thing you saw from the corner of your eye before you lost consciousness, amidst the chaos of the summoning ritual gone wrong, was the angel’s hand latching onto Seonghwa’s back and Seonghwa’s eyes rolling back in his head before he fell, dragging you down with him.

All these years of your life had been dedicated to the mafia boss Seonghwa- your friend, your family, and your everything. Even your worst nightmare.

He was the reason you were alive and not sold off as nothing more than a repository of useful organs. If you ever think back to what your life had been like when you were just a child, barely 10, it was rough. It was dark, and Seonghwa was the only light in your life. No matter how dim that might be. 

Seonghwa always shined. And you were just a moth attracted to his light.

However, you did not expect the man to physically shine. There was a sheen of actual golden light across his skin as his body burned with a fever meant for no human. You had bitten through the majority of your thumb nail while you wracked your brains for a solution- but did you really want one?

All these years, you had put Seonghwa’s ambitions and goals first. He wanted to escape the abusive orphanage and he wanted you to come along- you couldn’t be more grateful. He wanted to mix with the street gangs and provide for you so you could make a breakthrough in science (specifically, drugs) one day- sure, who were you to deny that blessing? He wanted to become the most notorious mafia boss, earn a social repute and keep you by his side, wanting you to help him become a true drug lord- to be the owner of the most unique and sought after drug. That aligned with your personal ambitions, so who were you to say no?

But your actual goal- if you ever had a moment of clarity without Seonghwa clouding your thoughts, it was to make a breakthrough in science- not just drugs. And Seonghwa knew your heart’s deepest desire, which was why he always prevented you from doing so, warning that you couldn’t be in the public eye. If you wanted to make breakthroughs, you could do so in the field of drugs, and limit yourself to the underworld. 

Well, this was what he wanted. Here he was, burning with an inhumane fever, golden ichor dripping from the corner of his eyes that you were sure to collect, already a few vials full. You wondered if this was the essence. And you wondered if the angel really was inside Seonghwa’s body now.

The two of you had lost consciousness when the angel attacked you- thankfully, his loyal servants were quick to take you both back to your hide-out where your lab was located. When you opened your eyes, you found yourself and Seonghwa lying flat on the stretchers. For a moment, fear gripped the entirety of your being before you realised you were just laying down and not tied like one of your test subjects. A sigh of relief later, you turned to find Seonghwa tied, and for all the right reasons. 

Thankfully, your subordinate was someone who could be trusted. He made sure to keep the rest of your staff outside and waited for you to wake up. Now the two of you were almost huddled against each other, fidgeting with your clothes and biting your nails- anything to cope, at this point.

“Do you think he will ever wake up?” Dr. Choi asked, his sharp features softening into worry. “Or will he… burn to death from within?”

“I hope he doesn’t,” you nodded slowly. “If he wakes up and remains alright… he will be my greatest product.”

Dr. Choi San chuckled darkly at that comment. “It will only be your greatest product if you let the world see it.”

“That’s the thing,” you looked at your thumb, finding it smeared with your trademark cherry red lipstick. “I would want to keep him all to myself.”

“What a dilemma, huh?” He shook his head. “Well, I for one don’t want to be present when the demon lord wakes up. I’ll be outside if you need me.”

“What if the angel inside him kills me?”

“Well…” Dr. Choi shrugged. “I guess I’ll proceed to take over this institution like you have willed-”

“Not helping,” you glared at him but you both knew that this was a situation you couldn’t do anything about. You were helpless, and your only choice was to wait and hope that Seonghwa would be okay and the angel wouldn’t want to kill you at the first sight.

Another hour must have passed with you waiting endlessly, wiping the sweat off his skin and collecting the tears before he finally opened his eyes, groaning inhumanely and beginning to shiver slightly. You rushed to his side, startled at the sudden shift and poked his side.

“Seonghwa? Is that you?”

“What’s happening to me?” His voice came out strained and before he could ask something else or get your response, his eyes rolled back and he shut them tight, finally settling down and laying limp. Your heart sank and you checked if he was breathing, feeling relieved upon finding that he was. You contemplated untying his wrists and legs but you had to play it safe-

Though you were pretty sure the angel would be able to break free anyway.

When Seonghwa opened his eyes the second time, there was a slight glaze to it as if he was wondering where he was or recalling the events of the previous night. He tried raising his arms but gave up instantly, not even bothering to check why he was unable to do so. You frowned at his unusual behaviour and cautiously called his name again.

“Where am I?”

“My lab? You passed out, remember?” You gently told him. 

“No, where am I?” He looked at you, his eyes scanning your face as if this was the first time he was seeing you. “And who are you?”

You felt your knees go weak and you clutched at his stretcher. “Seonghwa? It’s me, y/n. Don’t you remember?”

Seonghwa tried to raise his arms again but he shut his eyes as he groaned. “Untie me. Now.”

You couldn’t say no to that. You unclasped the belts and he sat up, swaying a bit. You passed him a glass of water and he made a face, setting it aside.

“Why did you call me?”

“I was trying to wake you up-”

“No, why did you call me?” 

This time, his voice sounded inside you and you took a step back, your lower lip trembling at the shift in his demeanour.

“It’s- it’s not you, is it? You’re not Seonghwa?”

“I’m not your rotten excuse of a human, correct.” 

It was the angel inside him speaking. He raised his hands, examining them carefully, finding them rough and calloused. He looked sideways, finding a blurry reflection of himself and shook his head in disappointment.

“Who are you?” You dared to ask.

“You called me,” he said calmly, a dangerous undertone in his voice. “You know exactly who I am. You know my name- do not dare to call me by my name with your filthy human tongue.”

You blinked, narrowing your eyes. “Is an angel allowed to talk like that?”

“Well, I’m human now, aren’t I?” The angel shrugged carelessly, wiping the sweat off his forehead with his sleeve. “Thanks to you.”

“I’m not the one who asked you to possess him. That wasn’t my idea,” you tried to explain, sweat oozing out of your pores the more his glare turned darker.

“Well, what was your idea, then?” He got up, a bit shaky on his feet as if walking after a long time. That didn’t stop him from invading your personal space and standing right in front of you until you could feel the warmth radiate from his body. His brows furrowed and you thought he looked incredibly sad at that moment. 

“What were you thinking, little bird? Trapping an angel?”

“I-” you clutched at the table behind you, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I only wanted to ask if an angel’s essence could be obtained.”

“For what?”

“Medicinal purposes,” you smoothly lied.

“Well, you have your answer,” the angel looked towards the vials as if having sensed them. “Though I’m sure it will not work. And you won’t be getting any more of my tears. I shall leave this body soon- if only this cursed human would let me-”

“What do you mean?” Your voice came out small, and you hated the effect he had on you. You weren’t sure if it was the angel, or if it was Seonghwa that made you still cower under him.

“I shouldn’t have been able to possess such an evil human,” the angel tilted his head threateningly as he leaned towards you, scanning your face. “You were who I intended to possess. Maybe he had a change of heart and allowed me to take him?”

“He wouldn’t do that,” you muttered. The Park Seonghwa you knew would never risk his life for you. 

Okay, he might, a little. To the point of getting hurt, but not to the point of… this.

“Doesn’t matter. I’m stuck, and I’m unable to get out.”

“Do we need to do another… ritual?”

“Humans,” he spat with such bitterness that you almost wondered if this was Seonghwa himself, testing you. “You should have learned about this properly before you summoned me.”

“Do you know why you’re unable to get out of this body?” You asked. 

The room fell silent, and when a subtle shake of his head told you that he indeed was as clueless as you, you finally relaxed and let a smirk grace your lips.

“Well… it looks like you and I are going to have some fun then… angel.”

~

It didn’t take long for you to convince the angel that you needed to run some tests in order to see if Seonghwa was okay- but you used this excuse to extract some blood, run every test possible, take every scan and monitor his vitals. Hours later, you were still stuck in the lab with him, the smell of food and antiseptics filling the room.

“You have to eat,” you said for perhaps the tenth time. “You’re in a human body, and you will have to live like a human while you’re stuck.”

“I could choose not to eat and let this body die. Maybe that is how I can get out,” the angel considered. You shot him a glare- while the angel wasn’t the considerate creature you thought he would be, his tone was a lot softer than Seonghwa’s ever was. 

“Or maybe that’s how you end up perishing,” you placed a piece of meat on top of his rice bowl. “Food for thought.”

The angel glared at you for a moment and fumbled with the chopsticks until you showed him how to use them. He caught up pretty quickly and picked the piece of meat, sniffing it and frowning. You watched him curiously as he stuck out his tongue to take an experimental lick, and after deciding the taste of the meat wasn’t so bad after all, he finally put it in his mouth and chewed slowly.

“I can’t remember the last time I ate,” he confessed and you urged him to try everything on the table. 

“As an angel… you do not eat, right?”

“We don’t need to eat to live,” he confirmed and you nodded. “Sometimes, we are sent as a human to guide another. At the rare times that we have to play along, we get to experience some humane things- like eating.”

“So… you’re telling me that angels walk among us as humans?” You asked cautiously.

“So do demons, and other creatures that your mind can never comprehend,” he said, taking another bite of the food- at least he seemed to be enjoying this human experience. “Humans think they own this world. They are no more than specks in this infinite cosmos.”

You nodded slowly- you were not going to argue with that. You had felt less than a speck when you saw the angel back in the basement.

“Was that your true form, earlier?” You asked.

“If you ever saw my true form, your eyes and your limbs would burn,” he said casually and you made a mental note of that. “We are not the angels that you read about in your books. Even demons- you have seen them. That is not their true form- we take the shape of what the human eyes and mind can try to comprehend.”

“How do you know that I’ve seen them?”

The angel tapped the side of his- Seonghwa’s head. “I know everything about this human now that I’m in this body.”

“Is he really alive in there?”

“He is. I can’t say for how long,” he finished eating. “He is fighting for dominance. Perhaps, he might be able to take over after some struggle, but I will remain inside until we find a way to let me out.”

“You should know if there’s a prayer or ritual for that, right?” You asked.

“Hmm… let’s see. Would you like for your human to die? For you and your entire group to perish from the face of the Earth?”

“Of course not,” you narrowed your eyes. Was the angel trying to intimidate you, or was he serious?

“Then I suggest we do not tell the world that this poor angel is stuck in a human. May the Lord help us.”

“Your Lord must know, though. Will he help us?” You asked and the angel chuckled darkly.

“We’re just two pieces in his game of chess now.”

A shiver ran down your spine and you got up to clear the table. “Well, it’s late now. I suggest we pause the game and get some sleep then?”

“Sleep is for the humans-”

“And you are a human now,” you let out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t care if you sleep or not- just come with me.”

You instructed the angel to keep his mouth shut and let you do the talking. You told Dr. Choi to take care of the scans and with that, you both left for the Park Residence, a mansion in the most elite area of the town. You watched the angel look out of the window with curiosity and a hint of amazement- you couldn’t blame him. The mansion was truly something ethereal, especially from the outside with its white corinthian columns and stained glass windows.

“Someone like this human should have been living in the dungeons,” the angel whispered and you put a finger to your lips, unable to stifle a grin. “He does not deserve this beautiful palace.”

“He earned it through his blood, sweat and my tears. Give him some credit.”

“Who are you to this human?” He asked as you got out of the car. The secretaries welcomed the two of you and you dismissed them for the night.

“Can’t you tell?” You asked, tapping the side of your head like he had earlier.

“I can only see the memories. I cannot comprehend his emotions or feelings.”

“Do you not feel?” You asked, entering the mansion and being welcomed with the subtle warm lighting of the chandelier- dimmed for the nighttime- that reflected on the polished white marble. The subtle veins of gold running through the floor reminded you of the angel’s tears. You glanced at him and he hummed.

“This is a nice house.”

“See? You felt that it’s a nice house,” you pointed out.

“No, I can tell that it is a nice house because I can appreciate its craft,” he walked towards the staircase, fingers softly caressing the golden railing and its sleek curves. 

“So you cannot feel human emotions? Sadness, happiness… love, hatred, anger?”

“And who said those are human emotions?” He asked, leaving you speechless. You followed him upstairs, letting him navigate through the empty corridor- if he had Seonghwa’s memories, he probably knew where to go. 

“Humans possess the same attributes as angels and demons,” the angel explained. “Inherently, these attributes are innocent in nature but as a human lives and learns, they take a shape and become uniquely human. No human is angelic enough, nor demonic enough- though… this one might take the crown for being the most demonic.”

“There are worse humans, trust me. At least this one possesses some morals,” you muttered. 

“And how do you weigh your morals? What is your scale to weigh them, human?” He asked and you shrugged- he was right. You couldn’t be the judge of that when your own morals were skewed.

“Well, you did see some good in me, didn’t you? When you were about to possess me?”

“You were the only good option, do not think of yourself too highly,” he almost reprimanded and your shoulders sagged in disappointment. He looked at you for confirmation before reaching the last room at the left section of the upper floor and you nodded. Once he entered the room, he looked around carefully.

The room was… lifeless, to put it simply. For starters, Seonghwa was meticulously neat and far too organised. There wasn’t a single thing in his room that was out of place, and the housekeepers made sure to maintain that as well. The pillows on his king-sized bed were neatly stacked. The monochrome aesthetic of his room with a hint of gold surprisingly both fit the aesthetic of the house and felt a bit odd. There was only an abstract monochrome painting with a splash of colours on one wall, and that was it. 

“Well, this is where you will sleep- or try to,” you said, taking a seat on the grey couch that was far too comfortable and often somewhere you lounged when you invaded Seonghwa’s personal space. “And this is where I will watch you sleep.”

The angel regarded you with suspicion. “You will kill me in my sleep.”

“You’re far too valuable for me to kill, don’t worry,” you assured him and the angel felt an odd sense of comfort, though he questioned the reasons behind that. “I’m a doctor, so you can rest assured that I won’t let anything happen.”

“Are you not a shame to the medical community?” The angel candidly wondered out loud and you felt a pang of hurt.

“I won’t be when I’m done making use of your essence,” you promised bitterly. “Besides, I’m not your conventional doctor. I’m better than that.”

“You cut up humans to learn medicine. You are the worst kind.”

“And what is your scale to measure my morals?” You questioned, just a tiny bit of the pent up rage leaking in your voice. “Are you sure your scale is the right one, angel?”

The angel smirked- smirked at that, looking too much like the mafia lord in that instance. You released a short breath and got comfortable on the couch, unlocking your phone to check the updates. You paid no mind to the angel looking around and messing the room up until he got exhausted and lied down on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

“I wish to return to the realms of the angels,” he whispered softly as sleep overpowered his consciousness. You looked up and watched his eyes flutter close, his breathing steady.

The angel was asleep. All you had to do was wait for the morning now.

“Fucking… bastard, thinks he is something to take control of me!”

The sound of two books colliding against each other with a thump, and the pent up sigh of frustration.

“Someone is going to die by my hands, and this fucking angel will be responsible for it-”

A smash- or perhaps, it felt like a smash because of the pounding in your head. You yawned unceremoniously, wiping your mouth and rubbing your eyes as you looked around-

You were in Seonghwa’s room- Seonghwa, who was now shirtless and sweating with anger, his upper body almost heaving with breathlessness. The muscles on his body seemed more pronounced and his veins were popping out. You considered pretending to go right back to sleep- maybe you could disappear into the couch if you stayed here long enough-

“You.”

“Hold up-” you raised your hand but when he started taking big steps towards you, you swallowed the scream that built in your throat and got up. Unfortunately, there was no way to get out of here and if you dared jump on Seonghwa’s freshly made bed (man was organising the mess the angel had made out of his room in his absence), the chances of him letting you live would lower exponentially. However, desperate times call for desperate measures and you slid under his arm to jump over his bed, making him curse some more under his breath.

He was quick, though. In a matter of seconds, he had you pinned against the wall, his arm splayed across your neck to hold you in place and you grimaced.

“What have you done, y/n?” He asked through gritted teeth. 

“You’re back, though, right?” You asked. “This is a good sign-”

“The angel is still inside- I can feel him here,” Seonghwa dug his finger into his temple. You couldn’t meet his eyes, so you let them lower until they fixated on the big tattoo on his neck. MATZ, a reminder of what he had lost.

“Alright, let me go,” you demanded gently. “And we can talk like two civilised beings.”

“What will you do about this, huh?” Seonghwa asked, no longer simmering with rage but unmoving with his position. 

“Why did you come inside the room during the ritual?” You questioned, awfully curious of the reason. “You heard the angel, right? The angel didn’t mean to possess you- I was his target. Why did you interfere, Seonghwa?”

Seonghwa glared at you for a good few moments as if the answer to your question could be found in your eyes. However, there was no answer, and he let go of you. You took a deep breath, rubbing the soreness out of your collarbones.

“How are you feeling?” You asked. “Notice anything different?”

“Just a bit feverish, that’s all,” he admitted and you made note of that. “Find a way to undo this as soon as possible.”

“Already on it, don’t worry. I don’t like these turns of events. But… I’m also going to check the properties of the essence I managed to retrieve, and if I’m in need of more…”

“Get the angel out of my body,” he ordered, pronouncing every word threateningly.

“Got it,” you said in dismissal. If the angel’s essence was something of value… you would wring the angel dry before you would ever let him go. However, Seonghwa did not need to know that. You meekly smiled before walking towards his bed and smoothening the sheets. “What are you going to do?”

“Work,” he responded, “I’ve got a few meetings to attend and a few politicians to bribe.”

“How wonderful,” you commented. “Want me to come along?”

“I can handle it-”

“What if the angel… comes back?” You asked and Seonghwa paused in the middle of buttoning his black shirt. “Are you sure you can handle the consequences?”

For once, Seonghwa was silent and you sat on the edge of his bed, smirking. “I think I should stick with you until we’re sure the angel won’t take over randomly, at least. In case I see the angel is back, I can do most of the talking and make the angel shut up.”

“Why are you so sure that the angel won’t jeopardise my reputation?”

“Because, Seonghwa dear,” you got up and walked to him, buttoning the rest of his shirt and patting his chest. “I can end up killing him, and you in the process. The angel knows I’m capable of that.” 

“I know you’re capable of that too,” Seonghwa said in a low voice, peering down at you. “Question is… will you?”

“Stay curious about that,” you told him with a smile, pressing on his chin affectionately like you always did. Seonghwa scoffed though he couldn’t help but break into a smile as well. You told him you would join him downstairs for breakfast and went to get ready.

Once in the privacy of your room, you took a deep breath, thinking and planning for what was next. There was absolutely no way you were going to leave Seonghwa alone. He was stuck with you and would have to remain under your supervision until this matter was sorted. It wouldn’t be unusual to tag along to his meetings and visits- you were his partner, and you were often present alongside him, but you were also a very busy person who was more occupied with lab work. 

The lab wasn’t far from here, and while you trusted Dr. Choi, you never trusted anyone enough. You were going to monitor his progress and work with him too. You needed to see the composition of the angel’s tears and experiment with it- but when? 

You looked in the mirror, the bags under your eyes more prominent and your cheeks looking sunken. You sighed deeply- it looked like you would be sacrificing your sleep quite a lot now.

And if sacrificing your sleep meant you would be basking in Seonghwa’s presence? So be it. That’s all you ever wanted anyways.

While Seonghwa was the same old person that he had always been, albeit more distant than ever thanks to the being inside his head that ‘wouldn’t stop whispering to him’, as he claimed. You could not blame the mafia boss for being on edge- apart from the fact that he was running a constant low fever, his senses seemed to be heightened as well. The lights felt too bright to him, the noise was too loud, and you-

You gulped as he flicked the dagger between his fingers effortlessly, contemplating if he wanted to slice you open or slice his own head open to extract the source of the constant whisperings.

“Look, it’s only been a few days, it will get better-”

Yet another dagger thrown at the board behind you, narrowly avoiding your cheekbone but definitely trimming the strands of your hair that were sticking out. You didn’t even flinch this time, but you were losing your patience too.

“Park Seonghwa,” you warned. “If you want me to leave you alone, I will. I won’t be responsible for what happens next. You have a meeting with Assemblyman Hwang later. He’s willing to buy drugs from you, and I know you want that meeting to go smoothly.”

Seonghwa slumped back in his office chair and folded his arms as if feeling cold. “I never said that I want you to leave me alone. But the sight of you… how do I put it…”

“Yeah, I know you hate me for obvious reasons, but technically-”

“Don’t say another word.”

You lowered your finger and zipped your lips. Technically, it was his fault and he knew that, which was the reason why he was so agitated. 

Seonghwa and the angel inside him were in a constant battle for dominance of their body. For Seonghwa, there was a motive- it was his body, and the angel was a foreigner. A parasite, almost. You still did not know why the angel wanted to be dominant in this body and take control so badly when all he did once he managed to take over was crouch in a corner, away from the rest of the world. He would barely answer any of your questions and you half-wondered if he wanted to kill himself.

There wasn’t a specific trigger either. Seonghwa would be functioning as normally as a feverish human could- a bit sluggish in his movements but alert nonetheless- and a loud groan of pain later, the angel would take over, finish doing whatever Seonghwa had been doing and go to sulk. You were pretty sure Seonghwa did not need to tell the angel to act like a human- the angel himself did not want to be seen.

Perhaps, that was why he chose the darkest of the corners to hide, away from the light of this world. 

The angel must miss the light of his world.

“The meeting is in a few hours,” Seonghwa reminded himself. “And I would like the angel to not take over-”

In some sort of a twisted notion of revenge, or karma, or whatever word you could use to explain the unfortunate luck of the mafia boss, he let out a foreboding painful groan and clutched at his chest, his eyes rolling back before he shut them. You watched with mild interest, shaking your head.

The angel was back.

“Hello, angel baby,” you called, beckoning him to open his eyes. His brown pupils glowed momentarily before he regained focus.

“Do not call me such terms,” the angel commanded and you huffed, rolling your eyes.

“I cannot call you by your name with my ‘filthy human tongue’,” you reminded him and he frowned. “I cannot call you angel, or angel baby- which is my favourite term, by the way. I like the look you have on your face when I call you that-”

The angel was beginning to look weary already and you smiled guiltily.

“What do I call you?”

“I… do not know,” he looked down at his hands, the dagger falling to the table with a clatter when he noticed that it was in his hand. “Did I say that you have a filthy human tongue?”

“Yes? Back when I summoned you in the basement?”

“I must have been very angry. I apologise. You do not have a filthy human tongue.”

You let out a short laugh. “I wasn’t affected by it, don’t worry. You don’t need to apologise, you’re literally an angel.”

“Has your heart been hardened so much that these terms no longer affect you?” The angel asked softly and you licked your lips in thought. 

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “I guess I’m used to hearing things like these.”

“This man cares for you yet hardened your heart to this point,” the angel commented, clasping his hands and watching you with curiosity. “It is interesting what humans say out loud as opposed to the words they choose not to say.”

You narrowed your eyes. “You’re quite talkative today, angel.”

“I suppose I got tired of the solitude- it gave me no answers. You might, though.”

You raised your shoulders to tell him that you were right here and as oblivious to the situation as he himself was. 

“Since you’re in a good mood,” you began. “We must talk about some important things. It might help speed up your, uh, departure process.”

“Let’s hear what you have to say,” the angel said, tucking his hair away from his eyes and looking to his left at his reflection, wincing at the sight of Seonghwa’s half-tied hair and glamorous suit. 

“Why do you take over this body at random times? I mean, is there a trigger, or do you just say fuck it we ball?”

“What does that mean?” The angel frowned.

“Just… tell me why you took over Seonghwa now, of all the times,” you sighed.

“Because he has an important meeting, and he thinks that he can keep me at bay,” the angel responded, straightening. “I am here to prove that he, in fact, cannot keep me at bay. It is I who chooses to be dominant, whenever I prefer.”

“Well,” you drawled. This was news to you. “If you want to coexist in this body without any drastic consequences, I suggest you not try to mess with Seonghwa, especially when he has something important coming. It’s for the sake of both of you, because I know that he will try something stupid to get you to cooperate, and I would rather make an agreement with you and solve this predicament like civilised people.”

“I will take over whenever I like,” the angel insisted.

“Please?” You pouted and he stared at your doe-eyes with an intensity that made you want to take back your words.

“Fine. I can leave him alone when he has something important, but I do not have to answer why I take over any time else.”

Just like that? You frowned momentarily.

“While we’re at it…” you asked experimentally. “Can you be a sweetheart and come with me to the lab? There’s just a few things I have to check- vitals, bloodwork and such. I won’t ask you to cry and give me your essence, don’t worry.”

“What if I do not want to?” He cocked his head and asked. 

“Do you want me to beg again?” You laughed. “Please, come with me. It’s for your sake.”

The angel tightened his lips in thought and nodded just a few seconds later. “Fine.”

“You’re not hard to convince,” you commented as he got up. 

“I have no choice but to cooperate.”

“Are you sure that’s the only reason?” You teased, going towards the hatstand and grabbing Seonghwa’s coat, sliding in front of the angel and offering to help him wear it. He gave you a sceptic look before slipping the coat on, a hint of a smile on his lips that you decided not to comment on. 

“Angels do not lie,” he said, taking the lead and pretending to be Seonghwa- of which he was an expert now, as if Seonghwa himself was instructing him what to do. You went to the parking lot and asked the driver to take you both to the lab. 

“We don’t have much time, so I’ll make this quick,” you whispered once inside the car. The angel nodded and you spent the duration of the trip in silence, the angel watching the world from the tinted window of the car. You almost felt sorry for him in that instance.

Once inside the lab, you greeted Dr. Choi who was writing some formulas on the board. 

“I’ve managed to break down the chemical composition of the essence. I’m surprised to see it’s very similar to the demonic essence we managed to acquire two years ago,” he said, watching Seonghwa with caution. “Is that the angel in front of me?”

“Yes,” you put on your reading glasses to skim through his notes. “That was one of the greater demons, right?”

“That’s what they claimed,” Dr. Choi muttered, motioning the angel to sit on one of the chairs. “What’s different is that the angel’s essence is more stable and safer to work with-”

“You will never be able to use an angel’s essence for medicine,” the angel declared casually and you both looked at him. “The existence of angels is supposed to be a mystery. There has never been an instance of an angel leaving a trace in the human world- by trace, I mean physical evidence. With demons, it is different- they have their own realms and rules.”

“We could change that,” you suggested. “This could be the first instance of it in history.”

“As soon as you spread it, and as soon as news of it reaches the realms of the angels, there will be a ‘natural catastrophe’ that will wipe off your existence and mine from the face of this earth.”

You cursed, looking at Dr. Choi who seemed more scared than annoyed, unlike you. You turned to the angel. “How will the angel realm ever know that we are using angelic essence in, say, drugs or medicines?”

“Demons track the consumers of their essence. When you and your evil boss sell demonic drugs, you put a red target on its consumers for the demons to prey on- and they feast on it,” the angel practically spat. “They make sure the consumers- the humans- do their bidding in return. So when you replace that with angelic essence, you will only be making it easier for the angels to find the humans they need to eradicate from this world.”

“Well, isn’t that lovely to hear,” you muttered. “What about experimentation here?”

“Your test subjects are bound to die. Any one of them that makes it out alive would not live long enough- and I told you that you cannot let the angel realm know that I am stuck inside this human. Does your life mean nothing to you?”

You looked at Dr. Choi who got the signal and left the room, saying he had to get dinner anyway. Then you turned towards the angel and walked closer, seating yourself in front of him.

“This is what my life means to me,” your tone was no longer soft. “I’ve worked hard all my life for this moment-”

“But some things are not meant to be,” the angel looked almost sad to inform you of that. “And that is okay.”

You gritted your teeth as you stared at him- how dare he look at you with pity? The rational part of your mind knew that he was absolutely right and that this was a shot in the dark anyway- you could still study the angel’s essence and at least learn something from it. But the emotional part inside you was currently fighting for dominance and for a moment, you felt sorry for Seonghwa- this battle inside him must be what he was going through at every moment.

It was your fault.

“I’ll check your vitals and take your blood,” you muttered, getting up and grabbing a kit. You wore medical gloves, checked his temperature and blood pressure, extracted some blood and ran some quick scans. Everything seemed normal and at least that was a relief.

When you finished and took off your gloves, you said that you were going to check his pulse and moved to grab his wrist. At the slightest touch, the angel pulled his wrist away as if your touch had burned him. You frowned and tried again, wondering if that was just a reflex, but he deliberately moved out of your range and you gaped at him.

“What is wrong with you?” You asked, rendered speechless by the cautious look in his eyes. “Why won’t you let me check your pulse?”

The angel’s tense body never relaxed but he allowed himself to return to his original sitting position, eyes still a little wide from the previous interaction. 

“Do you think my filthy touch will taint your body?” You asked, wariness dripping from your voice. You almost expected him to look at you with disdain.

“That is not why, no,” he sounded upset instead, moving to grab your wrist instead, flinching slightly again at the touch but relaxing soon after, curling your fingers with his. “I am sorry.”

You kept staring at him in confusion, watching him fidget a bit until he finally gave in.

“It has been a while since I remembered what human touch feels like.”

Oh.

All those times, deliberately moving out of your way and avoiding touching any humans, and now… caressing your hand and holding it with both hands, tracing the curves of your knuckles and marvelling at the sensation that he felt, cautiously meeting your eyes as if there was an implied sin somewhere that he was scared of committing-

All because he was touch-starved?

You shifted your fingers to rest your thumb on his pulse, locking eyes with him and silently counting while you found yourself relaxing, almost entranced by the way he looked at you. So shy, yet determined.

This was not Seonghwa. This was not the man you had spent all your life with. He had never looked at anyone this way.

“Hwa…” you whispered and the angel frowned in confusion. You squeezed his hand.

“I’ll call you Hwa.”

The fire behind those eyes, the flame in those pupils and the warmth of his touch. Seonghwa’s anger. ‘Hwa’. He held your hand between both of his as if it was a holy relic and planted a soft kiss on your knuckles, shutting his eyes and relishing the feel of his lips against your skin. The lips as soft as the petals of a flower. Hwa- that’s what the name meant.

“Thank you for giving me a name.”

You did not need to check your own pulse to realise that your heart was racing as much as his heart- perhaps, in a twisted synchrony.

The meeting with Assemblyman Hwang had gone smoothly without any disruptions with Seonghwa signing a deal that would expand his drug business while giving him protection from the law. However, your interaction with the angel at the lab had left a bitter aftertaste on Seonghwa’s tongue. While he never talked about that interaction or mentioned your new name for the angel, you could tell that he was conflicted about your behaviour with his ‘alter ego’, as you had termed it. 

And how could he not be confused? ‘Hwa’ was a foreigner in his body, doing whatever he pleased. The angel was opening up to human experiences more with each passing day and trying different things that Seonghwa himself would never do. The angel seemed to have a fondness for water bodies and mostly, when he took over, he would find the pool and either sit with his legs submerged or just float in the water while staring at the ceiling, as if he could see the stars or heavens, or whatever the angel saw in the sky in his realm.

Seonghwa would be lying if he said that having an angel inside him wasn’t… enlightening, to say the least. While he could not look into the angel’s memories like the angel could, he was intrigued by everything the angel had to share. It made him question his beliefs, but it also strengthened his ambitions. 

As for you… it had only been a few days yet the little things were starting to get to Seonghwa. You spoke to the angel so gently and carelessly. You indulged in whatever the angel had to say or did. You entertained him and satiated his curiosity. You let him look at you or touch you however he wanted.

Were you doing it because you wanted something out of the angel? Did you think you could win his heart or convince him to create the medicinal drug for you? Or were you doing this out of fear? Fear for your life, for Seonghwa’s life? Or… was the sadistic side of you enjoying Seonghwa’s misery?

He would not be getting answers to that any time soon, and he would not dare ask you for a multitude of reasons- the first and foremost being that he did not want to sound like he cared. Whatever you did with the angel should not be affecting him as long as you remained within your limits and didn’t cross some invisible boundaries, he told himself and hoped you were aware of that too.

He was not going to lie and say it didn’t sting a little that you barely looked at him anymore when he was Seonghwa. He had to do stupid things to get your attention now, such as-

“If you poke me one more time, god help me Seonghwa, I will break your fingers.”

There you were. 

You did have phases like these, where Seonghwa would wonder if you were growing distant from him or had found something- or someone- better than him. Seonghwa was a manipulative bastard and he always made sure that you were within his sight. He never allowed you to look too far, and whoever looked your way? Well… they would be subject to an unfortunate fate soon after. 

You were his. His little doctor, his only friend, his family if he ever had one, his everything, yet… nothing. Perhaps, the last part was a lie, the angel had suggested in one of his whispers. Perhaps, the angel was right. But admitting it would mean that he had a weakness, and Park Seonghwa did not have any weaknesses. He had made that mistake once and lost a dear brother, the reminder of which was inked on his neck so he would never forget. 

So why did this little phase feel different, almost threatening to him?

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” You asked, but when he raised a brow in amusement, you shut up.

You had brought this upon yourself, bounding him with yourself to keep him ‘under surveillance’. He definitely did not have anything better to do at home in the late hours of night. He had wrapped up his work in the evening and accompanied you to the lab for the daily check-ups and for the past few hours, he had been rolling around on his bed. There was nothing to plan, nothing to scheme for once. He just watched you study and make notes on your devices and before you knew it, he had joined you on the couch, poking at your sides once in a while, making you swat at him in dismissal as if he were a mere fly.

Perhaps, all his talk about being ‘the boss’ had not worked very well, after all. He should have never let you get so close- or gotten so close- because you sure had a way of acting like the one in charge sometimes. The small, almost non-existent emotional part in his brain told him that you certainly helped with his loneliness and he had to agree. You were a crutch now. 

“You know I can’t sleep well with all this incessant sound of your typing- why do you type so loudly on a screen?”

“The sounds help me focus,” you told him. “Let Hwa take over. He’ll sleep for the both of you.”

Seonghwa narrowed his eyes. “You want me gone that bad?”

“Aw, is the mafia boss hurt?” You mocked, going back to highlighting an important line in the research paper- perhaps, the tenth paper of the night. You were scrounging through them for any information on working with a chemical bond as unique and complex as the angel’s essence. 

When Seonghwa didn’t answer or threaten to kill you, which was the likelier response, you looked at him to find him with a sombre expression. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he shook his head.

“Something is,” you shifted your attention to him. “Feeling alright?”

“Yeah, I’m just… confused,” he admitted. “Having someone live inside you does that to you, I suppose.”

You shrugged, watching him carefully. “If you have a problem, you can ask me. You know that, right? Forget about the ranks for once, Seonghwa. You know you can trust me.”

“I know,” he nodded assuringly. “I just don’t like this. That’s all there is to it.”

You pouted. Nothing you could do about that. 

Seonghwa had a multitude of questions to ask you about the angel but he decided to hold them for now. Instead, he locked your devices and took your hands, steering you to the bed. You laughed- your old Seonghwa was back. He tucked you in the sheets, just like he had done a thousand times now when you were little and would fall asleep in the middle of studying. Dimming the lights until there was only one lamp at the front of the room, its white light creating a soft halo effect in the room, he got on the other side and silence took over. The sounds of your unsynchronised breaths started to fill the room. 

You turned your neck to find him wide awake, staring at the ceiling. You felt a pang of longing inside you- you wished you could hold him and tell him that it would soon be over, that you were sorry, that you wished you could make it better and you did not like seeing him acting so unlike himself-

“Shut up, you’re too loud,” he said and you snickered. You shifted until you were facing him though he didn’t move.

“What did you hear?”

“You’re sorry. You don’t like when I act strange, though you do enjoy it,” he spared you a glance and you grinned.

“That’s only half of it, though.”

“Would I want to hear the other half?” He asked.

“Well… some things are better left unsaid for a reason, eh?”

Seonghwa shifted to mirror your position, now facing each other. It was a good thing that there was still a respectable distance between you two. Sleeping like this had never been a problem- you didn’t have the luxury of sleeping in separate spaces for most part of your childhood, and once you did have the luxury, you would find each other anyway.

“Something tells me I should hear it anyway.”

“Ah, it’s the sentimental Seonghwa tonight, I see,” you retorted and when he shot you a glare, you gave in. “I wish I could make this situation better for you.”

“Hmm… you’re doing your best, though. Try harder from tomorrow,” he ordered and you muttered a ‘yes sir’. “What’s the last bit?”

You bit your lips- would you dare tell him now? If he pushed you away, you would have to live with that. 

But then… he pushed you away all the time anyway, and there was Hwa. He made up for it.

“I just…” you started, finding his hand under the sheets and brushing your fingers against his. He remained still. “I just want you to hold on if things get hard.”

“Things will get better,” Seonghwa said, the words sounding like a lie even to himself. “I know I could die, we both could if the angels or anyone finds out about this, but… it will be okay. We will survive this, y/n. We always do.”

“I don’t want to live through that pain again,” you whispered. 

“Tsk. You’re strong. You’re a warrior, and you will survive,” he assured you. “I will make sure you do.”

While he did not hold your hand, he let your fingers remain where they were, caressing his and you moved just a bit so you could lightly link them. A shaky breath left your lips as you allowed yourself to relax, welcoming sleep and leaving Seonghwa to wonder if he could say the same about himself- would he survive this ordeal?

He would wonder about that later. 

~

When you opened your eyes the next morning, you were greeted by the sight of Seonghwa who was already awake and watching you. You frowned, rubbing your eyes and moving to check the time before slumping right back- you could still get a few minutes of sleep.

You shut your eyes and curled your body, fisting the sheets, your head spinning with drowsiness. About a minute passed when you realised that the person watching you sleep wasn’t Seonghwa-

It was the angel. 

You opened one eye to find him watching you with the softest gaze, lips parted. Your heart would have swooped if you weren’t half asleep.

“Never watched a human sleep, eh?” You asked, voice raspy.

“Not like this- not so closely,” he admitted.

And perhaps, the drowsiness was getting to your head. You moved closer, tucking your head under his chin. The angel’s body tensed and you grinned to yourself- your bodies were still maintaining a distance but at least he wouldn’t be able to see your sleepy face. 

“There we go. You can take an even closer look now,” you said, preparing to go back to sleep.

“I cannot see you anymore,” the angel complained.

“Perhaps, that is the whole point,” you told him.

“I suppose I can try something else then.”

Before you could ask what was going on in his head, he was tucking you closer, wrapping his arm around your waist. For a few moments, drowsiness left and clarity overcame your senses- Seonghwa had never cuddled like this with you. This- one arm draped over your waist, keeping you close, his other hand caressing your hair in an attempt to lull you back to sleep, your breaths synchronising with the rise and fall of his chest…

Heavens above.

“Do I scare you?” The angel asked cautiously and you made the mistake of looking up, finding his eyes filled with worry.

“No,” you admitted, watching his expressions morph into what had to be happiness. 

“Then relax, and get your fill of sleep.”

Easier said than done. The fact that it was ultimately Seonghwa’s body and his voice made this entire situation more difficult to comprehend. However, there was no other choice but to relax in the angel’s touch and perhaps, that’s what you were meant to do for now. You relaxed a bit and fisted his shirt- Seonghwa’s shirt- instead of the sheets. 

And when you woke up later, the angel was asleep, looking content. You knew it was the angel because Seonghwa looked like he was fighting demons even in his sleep. You smiled at the sight, daring to caress the angel- Seonghwa’s- face, feeling something sad building inside you. You tucked his hair away, the strands as soft as you remembered from years ago. You ran your fingers through his hair-

Wincing when you felt a sharp burn against your finger. You drew away your hand, finding a small part of your index finger singed- was there something in his hair? You cautiously ran your hand through his hair again-

A little yelp escaped your mouth as you felt a sharper burn this time and you clutched at your hand, a small red welt near your thumb now-

“Oh, dear,” the angel was awake and inspecting your hand worriedly. You looked at him in confusion and surprise as he shut his eyes to say a prayer, holding your hand to his forehead and then bringing it to his lips, planting soft kisses on the burns that seemed to be patching up as if there was never a wound in the first place.

You gasped in disbelief, inspecting your hand. “How did you do that?”

“I am sorry,” the angel’s brows were furrowed in pain as if he himself had received those burns. “I did not mean to- it is probably my halo. I did not know it would burn even as a human.”

“It’s okay,” you assured, examining your hand. “I’m all patched up now, aren’t I?”

“I hurt you-”

“It’s okay,” you broke into a smile. “It didn’t hurt too much- I was more surprised.”

“I burned you-”

“Hwa,” you cupped his face, making him look at you, his eyes glazed. “I’m a strong girl. These little burns don’t make me feel much. I receive burns all the time, see?” You showed him your hands and arms, littered with faded scars of burns. “In my field, you get used to it.”

“Your skin is not meant to be marred like this.”

“But humans carry the marks of their life all the time,” you told him. “Don’t you carry something like that too? If not on your body… in your heart?”

Hwa looked at you with thoughtful eyes, moving to sit cross-legged on the bed, never letting go of your hands as you moved to sit in front of him. He sighed deeply, unable to meet your eyes. 

“Do you want me to heal them?” He asked cautiously. You shook your head no.

“Each mark on my body tells a story. I’d like to keep them,” you explained.

“Can I… kiss your hands anyway?”

Oh. He was going to be the death of you.

“Do you have a thing for my hands, sir?” You joked. “These aren’t the prettiest hands ever, I can find you a better pair-”

The angel ignored your rambling, planting soft kisses on the back of both your hands before he looked up. “To me, they are beautiful, because they tell your story.”

“Hwa- you can’t just kiss my hands and act all normal afterwards. This is not normal.”

“I am an angel,” he told you, kissing each of your knuckles, looking almost drunk with his flushed cheeks and glazed eyes. “Normal cannot define or bound me.”

Your eyes twitched in half anger and half… submission. 

“What are you trying to do, Hwa? What are you trying to pull?”

“Do you think I have some hidden intentions?” He asked almost dangerously, and you thought that he looked obsessive for a second. “I- I only wanted to experience this feeling, and if you want to push me away, I will go back to hide in the corners-”

“What feeling do you want to experience so badly?”

“Being human,” he said, almost spat as if the idea appalled him too. “I cannot tell if it is the human in me making me feel so strange, but I want to touch and be touched. I want to live- I want to eat like humans do and savour the flavours on my tongue. I want to bask in the sun until it starts to burn me and float in the pool until I feel one with the water. I want to hold another human, feel their heartbeat against mine, do something about the yearning in my heart- I’ve never felt like this.”

For once, you had nothing to say. You simply watched the angel curl in on himself, looking like a broken piece.

“And I’m scared,” said the wounded soul. “I’m scared that I will never be able to go back to my realm. I’m scared of being okay with that. I’m scared of enjoying these human experiences. What if I do not hate the idea of being human and they find me? I do not want to die a human, yet…”

“I’m sorry for misunderstanding you,” you did not hesitate to pull the angel in your arms. If this was what he needed, you could give him that. The angel sucked in a breath but quickly melted in your arms, clutching at you almost childishly.

“I think I understand you,” you caressed his head, not caring how it burned your skin. “You’re a human, for now, whether you like it or not. This is your chance to experience what it is like to be a human without any boundaries. No one is stopping you, and I… I will protect you… until you are ready to go back. I hope you will be welcomed with open arms when you go back. You must miss your home so much, Hwa. I’m sorry I didn’t realise that- you do not have to be human to miss your home.”

Hwa buried his face in the crook of your neck, taking deep breaths. You winced at your damaged hands, resorting to hold him still instead. 

“Have you always been this mellow, oh angel?” You asked. 

“This is who I am,” the angel admitted, drawing away. “But you have seen how angry I can get.”

“Yeah, angry is an ugly look even on angels,” you agreed, shivering at the memory when you felt like he would have obliterated your existence with a mere swipe of his finger. You showed him your hands and he winced, looking apologetic but you smiled, making pride swell in his heart. With a prayer, he kissed every burn mark until your hands were back to normal.

“I will try to refrain from caressing your head from now on,” you stretched your fingers. “My hands are precious to me, thank you very much.”

The angel laughed, a small part of him knowing you wouldn’t be able to do that. You shared a laugh, smacking his back and asking him to get up and join you for breakfast.

Once again, in the privacy of your room, you crumbled to the floor. 

What were you doing? Letting the angel touch and hold you like that- he was supposed to be the touch-starved being, but you were no better. How could you do this to yourself- to Seonghwa?

Just what were you getting yourself into?

And why did the consequences of your actions not scare you?

Everything seemed to be in order in your life and Seonghwa’s, yet it had never been like this before.

Seonghwa never talked about your intimate interaction with the angel- you knew that he was able to see fragments of what was happening through the shared subconsciousness, and if he tried, he could even share consciousness now given that the angel would not resist. 

Either Seonghwa did not mind, which was unlikely, or for once, he had nothing to say, which was odd. He always had something to say about every situation, and his silence was louder than ever.

However, his behaviour was the same- in fact, he had grown more understanding in the past few days. Understanding of his situation, of the lack of control he had over his own body. Understanding that you were still trying to find ways to get the angel out of his body, contacting every demon summoner and going to dangerous places with him to learn more about the dark arts. You would never tell a soul that you were doing this for an angel. 

You had also started to look into the history of angels, and while the angel himself didn’t share much about his realm- sworn to secrecy, perhaps- he guided you anyway. He was able to confirm or deny whatever you read about angels. 

You came across his real name in one of the books and learned that he was an angel of fire- while he was not an archangel, he was considered to be one of the angels with their own conscience, which meant that he was capable of sin. You were confused about that topic so the angel silently turned the pages of your book until you were at the section of ‘Fallen Angels’.

That day, the angel wished to go out and fly, so you took him to the mountains instead where you sat on the edge of a rock and watched the world below. That’s when you asked him if there really was good and evil in every human.

“Humans are not inherently good, but humans lack the desire to sin when they are younger. As they grow older in their intellect, the desire to sin becomes something appealing to them. The more a person sins, the more evil they become until the goodness in their heart is nowhere to be found.”

“Do you think there’s any good in Seonghwa’s heart?” You asked and the angel looked at you. Dressed like Seonghwa in a fur coat with his hair twisted back and tied, you almost thought it was Seonghwa himself sitting beside you. 

“Do you believe there is good in this human’s heart?” The angel questioned.

“Maybe,” you pouted. 

“Does it matter to you if there is?”

“If it mattered, I would have left long ago,” you admitted and the angel nodded. 

“I cannot say if there is good in this heart, but there was something that pulled me to him instead of you, when I was going to possess you. Maybe the evil inside me resonated with his nature.”

“But you’re an angel,” you looked at him. “You’re not evil.”

“There is the desire in me to sin, therefore I am capable of being evil,” the angel responded. “I feel as if I am sinning even now. Sitting with a human, stuck inside one, unable to perform my duties…”

“Do you hate being evil so much? If this is what evil is to you?”

The angel did not answer your question. And it got you thinking that maybe, there was a goodness inside Seonghwa that created the space for the angel. If that was the case, there was evil inside the angel too. Maybe, this was the true meaning of balance- a human too evil, and an angel too good, yet both containing a little kernel of pureness and darkness in their hearts- both coexisting inside one body.

But if being human was what encompassed the idea of being evil for an angel, this angel sure was enjoying the most mundane experiences. He was no longer opposed to trying out new things- a smoke, which had him coughing his lungs out later, cotton candy from the stall because it looked like clouds (Seonghwa was not pleased about that, claiming it left an aftertaste in his mouth), and food. Food of all kinds because apparently, the human had not been enjoying eating lately.

The angel’s curiosity wasn’t satiated with just that. You almost felt as if you were teenagers again and going on dates. From picking flowers in gardens to learning how to ride a bike. You made sure all your outings were away from the eyes of the staff or anyone who could recognise you, because you were sure no one would like the most notorious mafia leader in the town wiping dust off the petals of flowers or screaming like a banshee before falling down from the bicycle unceremoniously. 

The angel- Hwa- was laughing like a human and it warmed your heart because Seonghwa had never been able to laugh like that. His laugh was pure and unrestrained, something humans usually wished for. His eyes sparkled as he observed the human world, watching and learning the concept of a family, of friends, of lovers. You could only wish Seonghwa was learning something along with the angel too.

While the angel started growing closer to you, the human started growing distant. Whenever Seonghwa took control of his body, he would busy himself with work and not correspond with you much- on anything. It would be up to you to update him of the recent developments, or learnings, or whatever you wished to tell him- he seemed the most uninterested. He didn’t care anymore if you wanted to talk, keep him under your surveillance or leave him alone. It was almost as if he had sworn himself to the silent treatment. 

This wasn’t the first time he behaved that way, but it was different this time. Whenever you did something wrong or made any sort of mistake, it was a given that Seonghwa was going to give you the cold shoulder for at least a couple of weeks. You could try to make him give in- bribe him with something that he could not resist (the latest Lego usually did the trick- he may be the mafia boss but he loved his legos) or treat him to something nice. That usually solved the matter, but each time you were not allowed to defend yourself. Sure, he would hear you out occasionally, but he would rarely ever be convinced.

This time was different. While he did not consciously push you away, his behaviour was doing nothing to help you. It was getting harder for you to not look forward to Hwa taking over- at least he didn’t look at you with contempt. Something was off about Seonghwa, and you were trying to ask him what was bothering him so much- he refused to meet eyes with you or converse with you properly and you knew no bribery could resolve this.

“Have we dispatched the first batch of drugs to Assemblyman Hwang?”

“We have, it’s written there,” you pointed at his tab and he hummed, dodging your question once again. You decided to change the topic.

“Do you think we should try something like exorcism? An angelic version of it? The theory doesn’t sound bad, does it?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Whatever you feel like.”

You stared at him- he was trying so hard to act normal. This wasn’t going to work.

“Are there any more documents to sign? My fingers are starting to hurt- you know how I was in the lab all day working with specimens-”

“So?” Seonghwa dropped the pen and finally looked at you, eyes cold enough to send a shiver along your spine. “Do you want the angel to take over and worship your hands again?”

You scoffed in disbelief, wondering if that was a joke. When he went back to marking notes, you tapped on the table to get his attention.

“Say that again,” you challenged.

“We all know how much you crave affection,” Seonghwa muttered. “Good thing the angel is willing to show you some, at least.”

Unbelievable. This was what was bothering him?

“I asked you time and time again to tell me if something was bothering you- why did you keep your feelings bottled up only to stab me with your words now?” You asked. “You think I enjoy the fact that you’re sharing your body with an angel? Forget about what the angel does, you think I really want you to disappear?”

“It sure feels like that sometimes. You’re doing well without me, aren’t you?” Seonghwa scoffed.

You felt blood rush to your head, making your vision go red for a moment. Rage. 

“I’m cooperating with the angel, Seonghwa. I’m playing along with anything the angel wants so you don’t have to suffer, you miserable, miserable bastard. I’m doing all of this so that the angel shares consciousness with you and does not mess up your business- or would you rather have the angel taking over and actively fighting back? Fuck you,” you spat, throwing your own pen across the table which he barely caught. 

Not a hint of remorse in those eyes, though his little smirk had disappeared.

“You’ve always sheltered me all your life,” you got up, lowering your voice and this time, guilt did flash in his eyes for a mere second. “You’ve made sure I had no one except you, and you made sure my eyes only found you- that I only looked at you. So forgive me, Seonghwa, if you finally look back for once and I still find my defences crumbling when it isn’t even you.”

With that, you turned to pick up your belongings and leave-

And when you heard the familiar sigh that marked the angel taking over, you froze.

Had Hwa perhaps heard that? All of that?

You cautiously looked at him, finding his eyes filled with hurt. He almost looked grieved.

“Hwa-”

“Stop,” the angel raised his hand in the air, his voice dripping with sadness. “Not another word-”

“No, listen-”

“I know what I mean to you now,” Hwa said with a restrained voice as if still struggling to accept what he had heard. “There is nothing more that you can offer me.”

“I only said all of that because of Seonghwa,” you explained gently. “I did not mean that-”

“Yeah, Seonghwa heard that,” the angel said, shutting his eyes. “The damage has been done, human. To both of us.”

“Hwa, angel,” you dropped your stuff and took a few steps towards him but he left the room, leaving you regretting every word that you had said. Your eyes welled with tears and you took a few deep breaths, the tight feeling in your throat growing with each passing second.

You needed to find him- Hwa.

You looked in Seonghwa’s room first, but he wasn’t there. You wondered if he went to the pool and on your way there, you searched the rooms, asking the few staff members who were present if they had seen their boss around. None of them had. 

And when you found the pool empty, you sank to the ground and buried your face between your knees, letting out choked sobs- it had been years since you had cried. You were not sure if you were crying because of Seonghwa, or Hwa, or just everything- 

But it looked like you would be filling the pool with your tears tonight.

You cried until there were no more tears left, until your clothes were soaked. You sobbed until your throat felt raw, your nails leaving dents in your skin where you dug them in your palm. You silently cried until you heard the familiar footsteps, and it was almost surprising how that triggered a fresh stream of tears.

Was that Seonghwa? Or was that the wretched angel who had taken over your mind and soul? It didn’t matter anymore-

“Why do you cry, my dear?”

The damned angel. You brought your knees closer in an attempt to hide your face, but it looked like the angel was not going to give up. He sat in front of you, taking your hands in his and making you flinch visibly. Hurt, he let go of them.

“What is the reason for your tears?” He asked gently. You took a deep breath, sneaking a peek and finding his eyes puffy as well.

“Don’t tell me that you cried and wasted your essence,” you muttered, making the angel shake his head in disbelief. 

“I told you that the essence is of no use to you. I wiped every trace of it, don’t worry.”

You sighed, burying your head back between your knees. This time, when the angel hesitantly brushed his fingers against yours, you didn’t flinch away. However, he made no attempt to hold your hands either, only tracing the outlines of your fingers.

“I am sorry for my behaviour,” the angel said and you looked up at him. “I should have given you a chance to speak. I know humans say things they do not mean all the time- and if it is of any relief to you, your human Seonghwa did not mean to hurt you like that either.”

“It doesn’t matter,” you told him. “The damage has been done.”

The angel gave you a look. “You have a habit of throwing my words back at me.”

“It’s the truth, though,” you said, getting up and the angel followed. You wiped your face, tired. “I meant what I said. Every word of it. Yet…”

You looked sideways, biting your lips to keep more words from spilling. The angel looked at you expectantly.

“Seonghwa is not able to hear or see anything right now- I’ve pushed him back. So you can say what you want to me.”

You took a deep breath. “I’m not spending time with you because I’m scared of you, or scared of what you will do to Seonghwa. Yes, initially I was- of course I would be. I’m only a human and you’re a divine being. However… I don’t know, Hwa. I’ve always wanted Seonghwa to really look at me, to acknowledge me. And when you look at me, when you are with me… strangely, I find myself forgetting all about Seonghwa.”

“Is that the truth?” He asked cautiously and you nodded. You weren’t going to lie now. 

“I’m exhausted. I don’t know what I want or what I’m doing, but I just want you to know that I like you. I’m not simply cooperating with you, I like spending time with you- just you, the angel who’s beginning to live like a human. I know I’m supposed to get you out of this body even if it means that you get hurt in the process, and frankly, I’m still searching for a way to get you out, but…”

“But?” The angel asked and you mustered the last bits of courage in you, for the final declaration- the one you were too afraid to admit and even more scared to say out loud.

“Tell me,” the angel beckoned, taking a step towards you. You let your eyes scan him- the body of Seonghwa, clad in a black shirt and slacks, yet not his demeanour. Seonghwa’s face, yet unlike any expressions he had worn. His messy curls falling on his face only made him look more human, and it hurt.

“I don’t want you to leave, angel,” you confessed with a short laugh, letting the angel wonder what that meant. You turned to leave- at least you could put distance between the two of you-

“Then stay. Make me stay,” the angel’s voice was firm, almost as commanding as Seonghwa’s, but authoritative in an entirely different manner. A request, a favour. A plea.

“You’re an angel,” you reminded him, your voice wavering. “You are supposed to be performing your duties, you are supposed to be righteous and not give in to sin.”

“Yet here I am,” he shrugged, smiling in defeat. “Falling from grace and finding pleasure in sin- if this is what sin is.”

“Can I really ask you to stay?” You held your breath.

“You could ask me to fall from the heavens, and I would. I think I have already fallen. And I’m afraid of what I will let myself do for you, so stay, please.”

This was an angel, ready to sink to his knees for you. Your breath quickened as you turned, your heart ready to burst from the sheer amount of emotions.

“Where’s Seonghwa?”

“Not anywhere near,” the angel confirmed, the two of you moving towards each other, the magnetic pull stronger than ever. Your arms wrapped around each other in a tight embrace, laughter bubbling out from the angel’s body and you soon joined- smiling in relief. 

This was where you were meant to be. In his arms, feeling safe. Feeling loved. 

You broke apart, his hands resting on the dip of your waist. You brought your hands to wipe the remnants of his tears from his eyelids, shaking your head and he smiled guiltily. Your gaze stuck on his parted, plump lips and before the angel could express any doubts, you secured your confession by capturing his lips in a soft kiss, making the angel freeze.

You drew back and looked at him in confusion, anxiety starting to bubble in your throat once again- had you made a wrong move? However, the angel seemed as if he was in a daze, his eyes travelling all over your face. 

“What do you think you are doing, love?” He asked, cupping your face and tucking your hair back, not giving you a second to respond as he kissed your forehead sweetly, moving to pepper kisses all over your face, sometimes letting his lips linger as if he was relishing the feel of his lips against your skin. You fisted his shirt and raised your face right when he leaned down, your lips colliding in a passionate, slow kiss that soon started feeling heated as you moved your mouths in tandem with each other, pulling each other impossibly closer. 

You broke apart for breath but it looked like the angel was not planning to let you go. He sucked at your lower lip and you welcomed him with an open mouthed kiss, making the angel lose his footing and take a few steps back, your laughter and breaths mingling. You grinned, leaping in his arms and making him back away another few steps as he struggled to maintain balance while kissing you at the same time-

And due to his own fault, forgetting there was a pool full of water behind, he let the force of your kiss physically push him back until there was no ground under his feet and he clutched at you, both of you yelping as you fell in the cool water. 

You almost swallowed some but managed to find your way up, laughing helplessly at the state of you two- absolutely drenched. The angel swiped his hair back and you let your eyes roam all over his upper body, the fabric of his shirt clinging to the muscles that Seonghwa had worked hard to build. For a moment, a tiny moment, you remembered Seonghwa but any thoughts of him went out of your head when you spotted Hwa scan your body with a searing gaze that stuck on the way your clothes clung to you. 

“Like what you see?” You teased. The angel licked his lips in response, swimming closer and wrapping his arms around your waist, bringing your bodies flush against each other. You breathed heavily, letting his shoulders act as a brace as you lifted your body and captured his lips in a wet kiss, tasting water and kissing him as if he was meant to quench your thirst. You made out for what seemed like hours, his hands travelling all over your body, alternating from kissing your lips to feasting on your neck, his groans and moans fuelling you, your hands and arms singed in various spots, even nicked at places.

“Oh, angel,” you whispered against his ears, sucking at his earlobe. “They might clip your wings for this.”

“I do not need to fly if I am with you,” he declared, cupping your face and making you lock eyes with him. “How did you entrap me with that demonic heart of yours, human?”

All you could do was smile devilishly in response. “Maybe you have craved darkness all your life.”

“Perhaps,” he kissed your lips sweetly. “If this is what darkness is… I wish I will never see the light again.”

“Shut up,” you laughed, hugging him tightly. 

Angel. Your angel. The light in your dark life.

He kissed the cuts and burns on your arms, preparing you to get hurt for him again. A pain that you were starting to get addicted to.

Seonghwa had never had to apologise for a thing in his life.

Every decision he made came with consequences and he might harbour regrets but he would never bow down in front of someone and apologise. The other parties involved would just have to make peace with that. 

He did not believe in the idea of apologising, even when time and time again he caused you hurt or discomfort and you demanded that he show some remorse to make things better. He preferred to let the tension die down instead and let your defences lower until you would forget that he wronged you in the first place. You only had him, so where would you go if you broke things off with him?

However, as Seonghwa got a look at himself through the reflection of the mirror-engraved wall of Assemblyman Hwang’s office, he shut his eyes for a moment and saw red. He willed himself to maintain his composure and smiled at the Assemblyman.

No wonder the man wasn’t taking him seriously.

“- rest assured, we’ll do our best to keep this inside the underworld channels and not let any scandals surface, so you can keep on providing us with the goods, okay?” the man said, pouring red wine for the both of them while Seonghwa clenched and unclenched his fists. “I mean, I know we almost messed up but we were quick to clean it up-”

“If another mess-up happens,” Seonghwa started in a low voice, making the middle-aged man frown, “Not only will I retract and clean up your mess, but I will make sure to wipe all evidence. And that, of course, includes all consumers. You understand that, right?”

Seonghwa took a sip of the red wine, watching the politician fidget with his clothes, a nervous laugh escaping his mouth. “Of course!”

Seonghwa set the glass on the table. “It’s a dark world we live in. Gotta make sure it doesn’t get any darker, yeah?” 

The politician, who always rambled about eradicating darkness from the world in his campaigns, grimaced at the mockery of his slogan. Seonghwa got up and left the room, hiding his face with his fur coat as much as he could.

Once inside the privacy of his car, he glared at the driver who squirmed but got the message. Seonghwa slumped back and wiped at his left cheek where the very vivid and recognisable red kiss mark was printed.

He was going to kill you for making a fool of him.

It was his fault- the driver had tried to warn him with a ‘Um, sir… you might want to freshen up before the meeting’. Thinking that the driver was just suggesting that because he was meant to meet a politician, Seonghwa told him that there was no need. He did not need to look anything else than the crazy man that he was. His appearance was crucial in making first impressions, and with this rough look, he wanted to show the politician just who he was dealing with. He had some points to get across. 

However, the kiss mark on his cheek watered down that roughness wantonly. No wonder the politician had been smirking for the entire duration of the meeting.

Seonghwa sighed deeply. Again, it was his fault, ultimately. He never apologised for the argument you both had, and after regaining consciousness and finding himself under covers with you, snuggled way too close for his liking, he waited until you got up. He did not like the way your expressions darkened when you realised it was not the angel anymore.

You simply informed him that the angel and you had a talk, and he had decided to block Seonghwa from watching his consciousness. Seonghwa and you got into an argument again where he wondered if you were trying to do something behind his back- an assumption he immediately regretted making- and you told him that the only time Hwa would be blocking Seonghwa would be when you and Hwa had something ‘personal’ going on; nothing regarding Seonghwa and his state- or his business, even. Seonghwa tried to probe in hopes of getting an answer as to what ‘personal’ entailed but you didn’t give in.

And it seemed like he got his answer anyway. While the angel was consciously trying to block him at times, he saw the way you looked at Hwa very well. You used to look at him like this before, eyes wide and expectant, something like affection dripping from them. And now you had found someone else-

Except this was also Seonghwa, technically. One body, one mind, but two different souls. 

He just needed to find out if you were serious about this- the angel inside his body was going to leave one day. If you were doing this just to piss Seonghwa off… it was working, but you did not need to go to such extents. 

He did not want you to go to such an extent. He did not want to carry your kiss marks just anywhere- those things were meant to stay in the privacy of his house, right? He did not want to wake up with you in his arms anymore, without any memories of how you got there in the first place. He was supposed to be the one who tucked you in bed- only him. He did not want to hear the echoes of your laughter in his subconsciousness- he did not want you to laugh like that in front of just anyone. He did not want his lips to hold the whisper of your name or the taste of your skin- no one could touch you like that.

He was going to kill you. For sure. But first, he was going to block the angel out of his mind. 

Seonghwa wasn’t sure how that would work, but he tried his best to focus on what was here and what was real instead of the being inside his head. Once he arrived at your lab where he was supposed to pick you up and take you home, he asked the driver to stay, opting to find you himself. The lab was a nice place to get rid of you- he wouldn’t need to clean the mess. Your own people would clean that up for you, just like they had always wiped the evidence of your sins.

At the sight of your tired figure making a chart on the wall with the progress of your ‘angelic expulsion’ discoveries, all his resolve crumbled. 

You had a habit of making charts and calculating probabilities to visualise your learnings- whether it be about your scientific data, theoretical data or mundane things- would Seonghwa be able to kill the rival gang’s leader? Probability– 89 percent. Factors– temper, first and foremost, which affects his strategy and attack. Accounts for 11 percent though the figure may vary on how his day went. Factors– me. Am I in danger? If I am, the probability of winning increases exponentially because he won’t let a fly hurt me. If I am not… does it decrease his willpower? Check-

Seonghwa found himself smiling at the memory- you were making this effort- for him, right? Despite everything, you were trying to get the angel out of his body so he could leave you both alone, right?

You caught Seonghwa staring at you from the window and beckoned him to come inside. He entered with a huff and you frowned at his cold stance.

“What? Did the meeting not end well?” You asked.

“It went well, but it could have gone better were it not for-” Seonghwa pointed at his cheek and it took a moment to click.

“Oh,” you grinned. “Did I forget to wipe that? My bad-”

Seonghwa walked in front of you but you did not move. He peered down at you, watching you with a threatening gaze. It would have worked on others, but it didn’t work on you- not anymore.

“Have you made it your life’s mission to get back at me? This is playing dirty, Doctor.”

“Oh, so I’m ‘Doctor’ now, eh? Keeping it professional this time?” You narrowed your eyes. “Honestly, I forgot to wipe that-”

“You can’t tell me that wasn’t deliberately placed there,” Seonghwa countered.

“It was deliberately placed. Just not for you,” you patted his chest before turning away, wanting to get away from him but he grabbed your wrist and brought you right back where you were- even closer this time.

“This is not the first time, though,” Seonghwa smiled dangerously, fixing your glasses for you and tucking your hair back. “It’s a repeated offence, darling.”

It was. You were purposely trying to mess with Seonghwa, that was partly true. From making the angel try Seonghwa’s least favourite drink just before he was about to switch so there would be an aftertaste in Seonghwa’s mouth, to messing up with his appearance or clothes. Seonghwa’s patience was running out for all the right reasons. 

“Hmm, well,” you tried not to squirm under his gaze. “I’m guilty.”

“I came here planning to kill you for once and all,” Seonghwa admitted, cocking his head and watching his finger trail down the curves of your face. This wasn’t the first time you had heard this phrase, but something told you that he might actually have been considering it. “But it looks like you are making some effort. Progress, even?”

“Ah, this?” You gulped, looking at the board. “Yeah, I think I’m onto something- but there’s a catch, and… I’ll have to talk with Hwa to make sure this doesn’t end bad for any of you-”

“For any of us?” Seonghwa frowned. “You’re only supposed to care about how it ends for me. That being is an angel, he’ll make it-”

“But I want him to make it out safely,” you interrupted, trying to get a point across but Seonghwa seemed too frustrated to process it. “It would be in our best interests if the angel leaves safely-”

“Your best interest,” Seonghwa pointed his finger at you, giving in and huffing. “Not mine. It was never about me, was it?”

“You’re right, not everything is about you. Just listen to me for once, you fool,” you scolded, making him sit on a stool so you could meet his eyes properly and hopefully assert some authority. “Suppose the angel somehow gets hurt or dies. That’s going to be the end of your empire- a horrible, miserable end. We’re lucky this angel got stuck inside you and all his rage dissipated because you’re too stubborn to let the angel take control. You understand?”

“I understand everything,” Seonghwa said calmly. “I just don’t understand why you care about the angel- what is he to you, y/n?”

What was Hwa to you?

The angel who looked past the sins that covered the entirety of your heart, scratched through the darkness to find a home in your heart. The angel that burned you and hurt you with his love, shed tears for you and healed you only to put you through the pain of loving him again. The angel that wanted you to release him from the clutches of the demon that Seonghwa was, yet wished to stay and give up who he was so he could be with you.

If someone would hear that out loud, they would laugh in disbelief, but you had never craved something good and pure all your life until you met Hwa. You were content in the darkness next to Seonghwa, were you not?

“Cat got your tongue?” Seonghwa asked and you shook your head, but there was nothing else left to say. He asked you to join him in the car and you followed after a few moments with your belongings, the ride home awfully silent. 

That night, you did not join him in his room. You stayed in yours, darkness swallowing your room and you. Perhaps, if you stared long enough into the distance, you would become one with the dark. 

However, a few hours and a soft knock later, you were joined by your doom and your salvation- only you did not know which one it was thanks to the lack of light in the room. The figure plopped down next to you on the floor with a heavy sigh, his shoulders brushing with yours and you both sat in utter silence.

When his fingers brushed with yours, you almost thought it was Hwa- he must have heard your conversation, must want answers. But when he wrapped your hand in his and squeezed it with a promise, you knew it wasn’t the angel.

It was the demon- and you were no longer sure if he was your doom or your salvation. 

“This isn’t a sorry attempt at an apology, is it, Seonghwa?” You asked and you could almost hear him smile.

“I’ll be dead before you hear those words out of my mouth. You know that,” he said and you squeezed his hand back. 

A few moments of silence passed, thick with confusion and tension. You caved in and asked, “What’s going on in your head?”

“I don’t know, but the angel is asleep for once,” Seonghwa told you. “It almost feels like I’m back to who I was, except… even when the angel is asleep, I’m carrying remnants of him.”

“What does that mean?”

Seonghwa squeezed your hand in answer- this. This was unusual- sure, there was a certain extent of physical ‘affection’ between you two, if it could even be called affection. It was reserved for teasing, and in rare cases, support. 

“I don’t know why I’m here, but I am, and I don’t want to leave.”

“You love me,” you teased and he laughed a bit, but when he did not deny that, your smile fell- and for once, you were glad it was so dark. 

“You’re incapable of love, Seonghwa. I think something in you broke when you loved your other half only to let him go so soon.”

His brother- not in the biological sense, but a family nonetheless. While you and Seonghwa were reflections of each other, Hongjoong and Seonghwa had been as similar as they were different. Hongjoong was the light, pulling Seonghwa out of his darkness while Seonghwa pulled him back in. And what a pair they made, balancing each other out in every sense yet never clashing, each rotten in their own twisted ways. It had been Hongjoong’s idea to leave the orphanage and mingle with the gangs- he did not leave with you two but found you just a week later, covered in soot and blood but smiling like a free spirit.

He had freed all the kids from the orphanage that destroyed you all- the people who clipped your wings when you hadn’t even learned to walk. He freed the kids, burned the building and all the guilty parties involved- at the mercy of luck. He got the kids to another orphanage through his connections-

And when Seonghwa asked him if you could use those kids to test your drugs on, Hongjoong had shaken his head in amusement but allowed it. It was ultimately bad luck that took his life only a few years later, right before Seonghwa’s career peaked.

He had not been the same since- and you understood. Hongjoong was your friend too- you grieved with him but he never moved on. He got their nickname tattooed on his neck so he was reminded every moment of what he lost.

“I think I’ve always been like this,” Seonghwa countered. “You just need an excuse to justify my behaviour towards you.”

Well. That was also partially true.

“But you’ve always accepted me as I am,” Seonghwa continued. “Some might think you actually love me, y/n.”

“But I do,” you admitted with a whisper. “I thought you knew that by now.”

“You love the whisper of good that you think I possess, dear,” Seonghwa corrected gently. “And once I got possessed by the angel, you found an excuse to love me without harbouring any guilt in that twisted heart of yours.”

If words could tear your heart apart- this was why the truth was so harsh. You took a shuddery breath and Seonghwa caressed your hand.

“You weren’t meant to live in the dark, y/n. I pulled you in and clung to you because you were the only one who saw me for who I am. Perhaps, even a better version of who I was, though I didn’t need that.”

“That’s arguable,” you laughed a bit. “I’ve got more blood on my hands than I can ever atone for. All for what? For science? For you?”

“You make it sound like it’s a bad thing,” he teased. You both chuckled at that, knowing very well how bad it was. You let a few moments pass, clutching on to his hand and he sensed the question before you said it out loud.

“Why did you come inside the room that day, Seonghwa? Why did you try to shield me from the angel?”

Silence. Only the sound of your breaths in the room.

“To protect you, of course,” Seonghwa answered. “Because you are my weapon, and I am your shield.”

Oh, him and his words.

“Isn’t it the other way round?” You pondered out loud. “You act like my weapon sometimes too-”

“Because,” he said, almost sounding as soft as the angel. “Because I saw the angel look at you the way only I am supposed to look at you. Did he take a look into your heart? Did he find it captivating- is that why he decided to possess you? I could not let the angel taint my warrior any further, so I shielded you.” 

“Except the angel liked that,” you sighed in realisation. “The angel found your courage more attractive and got pulled towards you. 

“Yet the angel continues to taint your body,” Seonghwa clasped your hand in his. “I don’t like that. I don’t like it at all.”

Silence. The sound of your heart beats.

“There is a pureness in your heart, Seonghwa,” you concluded.  “And… there is a darkness in the angel’s heart- I’ve seen it. You balance each other just right. That is why the angel is stuck inside you, and I’m beginning to wonder if you two are beyond help now.”

Deafening silence this time.

“You will try, at least once. For me,” Seonghwa declared.

“I will try more than once for you, if it means it will work and you two will be separate entities, and-” you faltered, the whisper of the promise you made with Hwa ghosting on your lips. 

If there was a guarantee that the angel would be able to stay in the human realm after leaving this body, you would perform whatever ritual, whatever sacrifice was required. But if there was none… you would not let him leave this body.

And now with Seonghwa right next to you, you wondered if the promise you made came from your heart. Hwa made you promise that and put the words between your lips, but did you mean it? Were you really going to keep that promise? Would you risk Seonghwa’s well-being for the angel?

Or were you just caught between two utterly selfish beings, holding the key to freedom for one or the other, or none?

When you got a call from Dr. Choi in the middle of the night, asking you to check the files he had sent you and come to the lab if possible, you were glad that Hwa had not taken over tonight and you were in your own room, which meant that you could sneak out without the angel’s knowledge.

And in the middle of tiptoeing through the hall did you realise- 

Why were you wary of the angel now?

Sure, the angel had told you time and time again that you could not possibly make use of his essence- you could learn from its chemical composition if that pleased you, but he was adamant about you not experimenting with it. You understood why- working with demonic essence had been risky business and this time, there was the threat of the angel realm finding out about your work too.

However, one thing you had realised in the past few days was that the angel was a soldier at his very core. A soldier of god, bound to duty and true to his morals despite being in a human body and trying to live like one. There were still some boundaries the angel was unwilling to cross, and you were beginning to think if his righteousness was what was hindering you from making some groundbreaking discovery about the essence or if you were simply too trusting of him. 

And then there was the fact that the angel wanted you- wanted to be with you. He spent all his conscious hours by your side, looking past your sins and loving you for the person that you were at the very core. He claimed that that person was beautiful and everything he could ever have desired for. He held you as if you were fragile, kissed you as if that was the last time he would get to do so, and loved you like no human ever could. He bowed in front of you and thanked you for seeing him as something other than the being that he was. His love was burning but it was pure. 

His love was pure, but it was starting to cloud your judgement and you needed to recalibrate yourself every time you were alone.

So good timing from Dr. Choi too. You drove to the lab yourself and found him wide awake, which was odd because he liked his night sleep very much. You entered the office and asked, “I couldn’t read the notes because I decided to just come and visit. Brief me.”

“You asked me to extract and replicate any components of the angelic essence that is similar to the demonic essence, right?” Dr. Choi pulled a stool for you so you could examine the sample under the microscope. “Take a look at this.”

You gave him a sceptic look before examining the two samples in front of you. For a moment, you were confused before it clicked-

“These samples- they are existing independently, without being linked in any way to the essence as a whole, right?” 

“Bingo,” Dr. Choi smiled proudly. “Almost killed myself during the extraction process but I’ve managed to get the non-volatile compounds out of this. Similar to the demonic essence, but still different enough in its properties that experimentation seems like worth giving a shot to.”

“Even if this does not have medicinal properties,” you started to read the notes, “It can still become a different type of drug.”

“A new line of drugs- that’s the least that can come out of this. As for the medical side, we can always keep researching, right?” 

“Seonghwa’s gonna be so pleased to hear this news-”

But Hwa. 

“The angel won’t be,” Dr. Choi said out loud for you and you pursed your lips. While the doctor was not aware of the shift in your relationship with the angel, he knew very well how adamant the angel had been in not letting you conduct experimentation with his essence. “Does the angel need to know about this?”

“I mean… we could conduct our experimentation in secret. According to him, we might be under threat if we let the essence be consumed as a drug of any sort. Something about how it becomes a marker for the angels. But if we’re just experimenting and erasing any evidence of human consumption simultaneously… that shouldn't be a problem, right?”

“And technically, even if we are found by the angels or whatever, we just… die. Poof. We’re used to living under those conditions anyway- do or die.”

You shared a grin with the doctor, but could you really give him and yourself a go-ahead for human experimentation with angelic essence? 

The answer was simple- you could, and you can. This was your decision, and if it were not for the angel interfering with your work, you wouldn’t even be so cautious about making your decisions. This was not you. Were you scared of the angel’s wrath? Sure. You were scared of Seonghwa’s wrath too, it wouldn’t be any different. 

But this- this was your realm, and you set the rules here. No one- not Seonghwa, and certainly not Hwa could interfere. 

“Contact the orphanage and the prison. We’re getting busy in the coming days.”

~

People argued about what was something that made them feel alive. What sort of human experience was exciting enough to make them feel charged, have electricity buzzing through their veins and heighten their senses? 

Some called it ‘the thrill’. They searched for it in the dark pits of this world, succumbing to their desires and inevitably losing themselves, becoming as hollow as shells. While searching for a way to feel alive, they would end up losing all purpose. 

Others searched for it in human experiences- love, happiness and other emotions and feelings. They would go out seeking ‘adventure’, connecting with nature and finding meaning in the simplest things- in the creation, in everything around them, in life itself. 

You, however, might be the odd one out. You stood at the threshold, tipping between ‘the thrill’ and ‘human experiences’ constantly and finding home at that tipping point. Some might argue that you were delusional and your means of feeling alive was something that deserved a special kind of judgement to have you sent into the deepest, darkest pits of hell. Was hell not simply a concept that humans created to delude themselves? Some found ‘the thrill’ in the hell they created for themselves, while the others used hell as an excuse to shape themselves into what they imagined a human should be. 

Your means of feeling alive- you felt the most alive when you were working in your element, in your field. When you were playing with chemicals and experimenting on live subjects - or inspecting the dead. When you were performing practically, creating products and testing them, unhindered by any ethical or legal boundaries. In this lab, you were the creator, the judge and the creation. You were the action and the consequence. Here, you found both the thrill and the human experience. Here, you were truly alive. 

“Another one passes,” you watched the vitals of one of your test subjects drop significantly- nothing that could be done about it. You had fed the young adult the angelic essence and though the timespan of the reaction towards it had lengthened a bit, he went into shock soon after. You tried saving the young adult but to no avail. “Another one bites the dust.”

“The things you say sometimes,” Dr. Choi shook his head in amusement, passing you a scalpel and you carefully made a vertical incision along the subject’s upper body, grimacing at the sight of the discoloured blood. “Shit, that’s just like what happened with the demonic essence.”

“Except we’re using the same quantity- that means the angelic essence might be stronger than the demonic one. We need to dilute it further,” you decided and he agreed, continuing with the inspection of the internal organs which appeared almost burnt. 

You had been spending more time in the lab in the past few days especially at night to start testing how practical an angelic drug would be. Seonghwa was aware of your recent occupation and was also a little proud of how driven you were this time. He made sure the angel would not look into his memory too much and you both decided to keep the conversation about this topic to a minimum. Seonghwa was also taking over at night time more so he could get proper sleep, he claimed, although you wondered if it was so you could have more time working in the lab.

While the angel wondered if it was because Seonghwa wanted him to stay away from you.

Hwa had no idea of the recent developments in the lab and was only aware that you had contacted the summoner from the ritual that chained him to Seonghwa and were preparing to try another ritual, currently researching if it would be safe for the both of them. He thought that was what you were busy with during the day and was wondering if that was what occupied your thoughts when you were with him.

And if the angel was a little honest with himself… he was a little scared of what you felt for Seonghwa. 

He understood that Seonghwa was the only person in your life from the beginning, and your bond with him was something irreplaceable. He also tried to be understanding when Seonghwa started blocking his memories and consciousness actively- if the angel could do that to him, so could he. The angel had no right to complain anymore. However… what did the two of you do when the angel was out of the picture? 

Nothing, was the answer. You would work in your respective spaces, sometimes chat about something or anything. On rare occasions when one of you was feeling sentimental, you would find the other and share comfortable silence or tease each other. That was it.

However, the angel may be oblivious to some things but he was no fool, nor was he blind. Seonghwa did feel something for you that went beyond what the word ‘love’ encompassed, and if the angel was really honest with himself, that was what he was scared of. 

So at the first opportunity when Seonghwa’s defences lowered just as he was about to fall asleep, the angel violated their recent agreement and took over forcefully. 

Hwa looked around, expecting to find you in the room- weren’t you supposed to keep watch on both of them? Or had you gone to your room to rest?

The angel found himself shrugging on a robe over the black tank top that he was wearing before exiting Seonghwa’s room and going towards yours. He knocked softly and opened the door, worried about waking you up if you were asleep, but he found the room empty and your usual belongings gone. So you were not home.

And that meant you had to be at the lab. There was no place else you could be- even your car was not in the garage.

So the angel found himself outside the lab, sensing something off about the air even before he entered. He found the lab room where you usually worked with Dr. Choi empty, your belongings dispersed around the room. So where were you? 

A warning song- similar to the one he used to sing to the humans who needed a little reminder of how small and insignificant they really were in this world- started sounding in his head. The angel wasn’t sure if he was singing it or if it was being sung for him. 

He got his answer when he found you in the dark basement, the stench of blood and something rotten filling his nostrils. He froze at the sight of you- you were beautiful, lit by the dim white overhead light, but so, so tainted with blood and sin. The dead bodies all around you… the humans that were alive but silently begging to be killed. Your eyes, sparkling as you looked around, blood splattered across your scrubs. The angel looked around and his heart sank as realisation hit him-

You were experimenting with the angelic essence.

The angel saw red before his eyes before he knocked on the door. You looked up and waved at the man, your smile falling when you realised it was the angel in front of you. 

“Uh… I’ll be back,” you told Dr. Choi who told you to take your time. You were nearly done anyway and you could go home soon. 

You opened the door for the angel, his gaze unforgiving and suddenly, you were gripped with the same fear that you had felt when you first saw him.

“I forbade you to not experiment with the essence, but here you are.”

“Why are you here?” You asked and the angel raised a brow.

“Funny that this is the first thing you ask,” he commented, glancing inside the room through the slightly ajar door. “Y/n… I trusted you to keep your word.”

“Look,” you sighed, taking off your mask and cap. “I’m not doing this for the medicinal drug- you told me that it would be no use and I took your word for it.”

“Then what is this for?”

“For…” you contemplated making an excuse or lying but it was too late.  “For the drugs, Hwa. I’m just trying to see if a compound extracted from the essence can be consumed like the ones from the demonic essence are-”

“I told you not to experiment!” The angel raised his voice and you shut your eyes, exhaling. “Why do you need to make a drug out of angelic essence? Do you have any idea of the consequences if this gets out-”

“I do,” you started moving towards another room and once in some privacy, you glared at him, his features seeming sharper with the faint lights casting shadows on his angry face. 

“It’s not like I’m manufacturing the drug, Hwa. We’re far from it- I’m only studying.”

“That is how you study?” The angel pointed towards the direction of the room and scoffed. “Killing humans as if their lives mean nothing?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, folding your arms. “You know who I am. I have blood on my hands- more blood than even Seonghwa has on his. You call him a rotten excuse of a human for who he is, right? Then I’m worse. I’m a demon, and you knew it, yet you chose to love me and hold my hands as if they were a holy relic.”

The angel’s eyes flashed with hurt- of course he knew. 

“You are heartless,” he breathed out as if saying those words was hurting him. “I knew that. You are right, I knew who you were. I just thought…”

“That I would change?” You shook your head. “You thought that I would become a better person? Well, this is who I am, angel. This is what my life is. You asked me not to experiment with the essence, but you know that my heart’s deepest desire is to create more advanced drugs. You can’t stop me from doing anything to get there.”

“That is what my word means to you,” his expressions shifted from hurt to anger. “That is what my love means to you. You heartless devil. You and Seonghwa really were made for each other.”

“I may be heartless but you’re naive, and don’t think for a moment that you have any control over me, angel,” you spat the words, taking a few steps towards him for emphasis. “And you- you’re a liar. You told me that we could not get anywhere with the essence. You said you could not lie.”

The angel’s eyes almost glowed with the whirlwind of emotions that he was feeling, and your pointed finger in his face wasn’t making things better. He curled your finger back into your fist and held it in his hand, his touch physically burning you and you snatched your hand away with a yelp.

“Angels cannot lie, but they can hide the truth.”

A wave of anger washed over you and you looked at him in disbelief. “What other truths are you hiding from me? You know how to get out of this body, don’t you? Are you staying back on purpose? Are you not letting go of this body on purpose, Hwa?”

“You asked me to stay,” he smiled and you thought there was something sinister about his smile, especially as he started tucking your hair back and lightly caressing your face. “You think I am a liar, my love?” 

You shook your head, nothing making sense anymore. “Just tell me if you know how to get out of this body without hurting Seonghwa.”

“I am neither lying nor hiding the truth about this. I do not know how to get out of this body.”

“Is that the complete truth?” You dared to ask and the angel didn’t answer, holding your hurt hand and saying his prayers before starting to kiss it wherever it was burned. Tears of frustration started stinging your eyes and you looked away from his burning gaze. 

“Do you hate me?” The angel asked with a cautious voice and you did not respond. 

It shifted something in the angel, perhaps indefinitely. 

“Do not ever look away when I look at you,” he commanded, his voice settling in your bones and you felt as if you were almost compelled to meet his eyes. His face was void of expressions, gaze dark and he cupped your face, making you shut your eyes in pain when his touch started singing your skin but the angel did not care- he was far too gone in that moment. He moved closer, your bodies flush against each other and he trailed his lips along your forehead, peppering kisses along the way and then he kissed your wet lids, drawing back.

“Look at me,” he commanded again and you opened your eyes. You were frozen in place- not because you were scared, but because you simply could not believe that the angel was hurting you like this, his hands moving to your neck, wrists and any bare skin he could find, imprinting his touch in the form of light burns. He moved to kiss your cheek, licking the tears away and your breath quickened-

His love was pure, but this? This wasn’t who the angel was. 

Or were you just now getting to see the true face of the angel?

As he continued to kiss your neck and leave more singes on your skin, your body responded almost automatically and you curled into his figure, shuddering. You recalled reading something about angels and fallen angels in a book– it said something about how the angels were just god’s warriors, hollow at their core, one of their wings marred with blood for eternity. You asked Hwa what really was the difference between an angel and a fallen angel at their very core, and he did not have an answer-

Was it because he was also someone like you, struggling to stand on the threshold between being an angel or becoming a fallen angel?

What sort of an angel would hurt their human like this? 

And how did this angel go from crying because his touch burned you to purposely burning you? Maybe this was your fault too- you let his love burn and consume you. You were no better.

“I am violating the core of who I am in loving you,” the angel whispered in your ear, his hair tickling your cheekbone. “Do not take advantage of that… little bird.”

“Let me go,” you cupped his face, looking straight into his eyes, the name he called you finally giving you some clarity. “Let Seonghwa take over- please.”

“No,” he shook his head. “You can’t ask me to go now-”

“You’re hurting me,” you said and it was as if he could finally see the redness all over your skin. “Go, angel. Give me Seonghwa back.”

The angel’s eyes flickered with hurt, his eyes travelling all over the places that he burned you and it was as if he finally broke from his trance- he muttered a prayer and started peppering light kisses all over your face wherever his touch had burned you, his heart aching as he saw the fresh stream of tears roll down your face. Before he could do something about your neck or your hands, you drew away.

“Please, that’s enough for now,” you hardened your gaze. “We will talk later, when you are in your right mind. Let Seonghwa take over.”

“Oh, heavens above,” he sighed, ashamed of his actions and silently cursing himself. “I hurt you too much-”

“It’s-” you paused before you could finish saying the sentence.

It was not okay. You wouldn’t be telling him that it was okay to hurt you ever again.

Before you could say anything else, the angel groaned uncharacteristically and you watched as the shift happened, visible in the demeanour change, except-

Seonghwa took one look at you and almost lost his footing, struggling to stand as he clutched at the table. You reacted immediately, making him sit on a stool and asking him if he was alright, but he only held your hands with his own shaky ones and hid his face between them.

“Seonghwa?” Your voice came out in a small whisper- you had never seen him so weak. He wasn’t crying but he very well might have been with the way his body was trembling and he was breathing unsteadily.

“Talk to me, Seonghwa,” you urged, “What’s wrong?”

“I…” he sighed heavily, looking up at you with tired eyes, the rage obvious behind them. “I fought for consciousness the moment I heard you cry. Who hurt you?”

You.

“It’s the angel, isn’t it?” He examined your hands, trembling with the intensity of emotions that he was feeling- perhaps, a leftover product from the angel too. “He hurt you.”

“Seonghwa,” you sat down in front of him, on your knees. “I’m okay. It’s going to be okay-”

“It’s not,” he shook his head adamantly. “You have no idea how much I’m struggling to not let the angel swallow me whole- I’m scared to think of what would have happened if the angel lost all control just now.”

You silently shook at the thought and he caressed your hands before continuing.

“Sometimes, it feels like if he takes over my consciousness, I will get lost in the dark pits of my own subconscious forever. But now… I realise why  I’m sometimes hesitant to regain consciousness too. Because-”

He looked at your marred hands, caressing the burn marks on them lightly. “Do you know what I’m afraid of, y/n?”

You shook your head. “You’re afraid of nothing, as far as I know.”

Seonghwa smiled tiredly. “You’re right. I am afraid of nothing- I was afraid of nothing. But now… I’m afraid of seeing these burn marks on your skin whenever I wake up. How could you let him hurt you like this? You were supposed to be my warrior.”

“And you were supposed to be my shield,” you smiled sadly. “When you’re not there… I get burned.”

Seonghwa looked down, unable to meet your eyes. “This is what I’m afraid of. Hurting you and watching you love the very thing that hurts you. I’ve never been afraid of anything in my life but now… I’m afraid of losing you like this, y/n.”

Seonghwa. The most notorious mafia lord with no such thing as a ‘heart’ was afraid of losing you. Afraid of hurting you and seeing you hurt. Was this not what pure love was supposed to be, as opposed to your angel Hwa’s, who had better things to worry about?

You once asked the angel what he was scared of- other than the obvious. He talked about punishment. He was afraid of doing the very deeds that he would be sent to give punishment for. He was afraid of divine intervention- it was something that was scary to witness even as the audience. He was afraid of the future, of this world and its corrupt nature. 

And the angel was afraid of loving you only to lose you.

Was Seonghwa’s love for you not purer than the angel’s love, then? Seonghwa would go to hell and back for you. Seonghwa bowed down only in front of you- you, who were a part of him, a part of his soul, he would sometimes call you. 

The angel would only bow in front of god.

“You won’t lose me,” you promised though the words were of no comfort to both of you. Overcome by his emotions and some hard truths about what his future looked like, he brought your hands closer with his own shaky ones and pressed a promising kiss on both your hands. When you shifted to hold his hands instead and tried to make him look at you, he shut his eyes.

He could not look at you. Not now.

“Seonghwa,” you called, lifting yourself up a little so you could be at eye level. “Won’t you look at me?”

He only lowered his head further and you embraced him, sighing in relief when he shifted so he could hug you back properly. You let him come to terms with whatever he was feeling- he wasn’t going to talk about it but at least you could help him through it. You caressed his head without a fear of getting hurt for once, and he mustered up the courage to kiss you on the cheek.

You froze momentarily- Seonghwa rarely ever kissed you anywhere except the top of your head (that was his form of silently apologising). He nudged your cheek with the tip of his nose, his warm breath caressing your skin and you moved back slightly, making the mistake of looking him in the eyes-

You had asked for it, though. And now that he was looking at you, so close, you forgot how to breathe.

His hand went around the back of your neck, craning it so that he could make space for himself. He joined your foreheads, taking a deep breath.

“I won’t let the angel ever hurt you again. That’s a promise, okay?” He whispered and you nodded, your noses brushing against each other. He shut his eyes, brows furrowed in concentration as he deliberately nudged the tip of his nose with yours, your lips almost brushing in the process but the ghost of his lips remained on yours.

You whispered his name- a call, a plea, and he almost gave in, reminded of the memories of kissing you that he had seen flashes of from the angel’s memory- oh, how he wanted to kiss those lips himself. He felt a sharp pain in the head slice at him, a reprimand from the angel, a warning. Seonghwa brushed his lips against yours once again just to piss the angel off before drawing back with immense effort, kissing your forehead instead. 

Your figure sagged in disappointment, tired from the yearning. You rested your head in his lap and gave yourself a few moments to recollect your thoughts. 

You would not question Seonghwa and his actions anymore. You knew exactly what was happening. You knew what you had to do now.

There is always a moment in your life when it feels like you’ve had an awakening- as if all this time, you had been wearing the wrong pair of prescription glasses, or not wearing anything to help your blurred vision. So when you finally fix the problem, or realise what the root of all your troubles is, you start to see the world with a sudden clarity. Everything seems sharper, you can see the fine lines that you would otherwise have missed, and it’s like you have a new perspective to the world, even.

At least, that’s how you feel as you perch your reading glasses up your nose bridge, craning your neck to the right and flipping through the pages of a dark arts history book, recalling that you had read something in it which seemed to be connected to the current theory you were working on-

The theory being that angels were, in fact, worse liars than demons. Demons had a habit of being overtly honest- the only problem was that they were tricksters and spun their words such that it would be hard to unravel the truth from. Angels, however, were outright liars in the sense that they would conceal the truth and mislead you by not telling you the complete truth.

At least, that’s who Hwa was. 

You spent the first couple of days trying not to have a mental breakdown and asking both Hwa and Seonghwa to leave you alone while you figured out your feelings for them but more importantly- just how much the angel had misled you? Was there anything he said about the angelic essence and its experimentation that was the complete truth? So far, there had been no warning siren ringing to inform you of some divine punishment. The heavens had not fallen over your head. You were just fine, and you were pretty sure that your experimenting was enough of a marker for the other angels. Why was no divine being interfering then?

And just what was the truth about the angel not knowing how to leave this body? Was he not leaving on purpose, a selfish angel who simply wanted to experience what it was like to not be a warrior of god? Was he staying because of you? Did he really love you or was that just an excuse to stay back in this world and delay going back to his own?

Because he did love you- oh, how he loved you. His love threatened to consume you whole with the way he held you like you were fragile and would break under his touch, contrasting with the way his touch would sometimes burn you when he was overwhelmed. His kisses were overflowing with emotions, a pure exhibit of his desire while holding a dark, almost sinister undertone to them when he would grip you tightly as if forgetting you were human. His whispers contained promises in a foreign language that you did not need to interpret- his vows were clear in his eyes and his possessive hold. 

His love also threatened to break you in the way that a trapped bird was scared of stepping outside its cage for the first time. It was Hwa who made you experience what being normal would have felt like, were you not bound to Seonghwa and his drug business. You experienced so many of your firsts with Hwa and it was him who showed you what a normal life could have been like- you did so much with him that you could have never done with Seonghwa. Seonghwa had only given you limited freedom and while you did not hate that, you always wished to spread your wings and fly.

Maybe you flew too close to the sun. Perhaps, that’s why you were burning both from outside and from within. Maybe you were meant to love the moon but the moon liked to hide behind the clouds so you chose the next best thing. You had to fill the void in your heart somehow, and who better to fill it than a literal divine being that wore the skin of the man you had loved your whole life?

You were the only selfish one here, but selfishness had always been your greatest weapon and you would be sure to make use of it when the time would come. For now, you were coming to terms with how Hwa and Seonghwa were also selfish for their own reasons- Hwa, because he did not want to face the consequences of his actions and Seonghwa because he simply wanted to be free and whole again. He would probably kill you once he was- it didn’t feel like a bluff anymore. 

However, there was also another hard truth about all of this, and that was that Hwa would give you up in a second for ‘the greater good’ or whatever moral code he needed to satisfy in order to please God and his fellow angels and get back to his realm if caught. You wanted to tell him that as an angel, perhaps he had sinned too much and if he ever went back, they would probably clip his wings and turn him into a fallen angel. You wanted to claw at him and make him stay with you forever simply because you could. 

And the only reason you weren’t making him stay was because Seonghwa was the one who would burn down all of this world- the heavens above and hell below- for you. It might be out of love or out of a desire to prove that you were ultimately his, a dangerous obsession, but you were his priority. And you couldn’t help but wonder what things would have been like if he had kissed you that night in the lab and finally faced his feelings for you- though a part of you wondered if his feelings for you were partly because of the angel rubbing off on him.

So it was no wonder that you were losing your mind trying to put the feelings aside and work on finding a solution to this cursed turn of events. Now that you had an objective perspective (still arguable), you were realising that the divine punishment the angel was so afraid of might only be reserved for the angel himself. Perhaps, the human would be spared from it until it was their time to die and face judgement by their creator. It made sense because there were absolutely no instances of an angel summoning ever recorded.

Demons liked to be summoned, which was why there were countless records of it. Angels were summoned by force, though. You surely were not the first person in this world who had summoned an angel but you might make a difference if you recorded this summoning. That made you wonder- was it the recording part that was the problem or were the humans involved really wiped out if they interacted with angels?

If the latter was the case, you would have faced judgement a while ago- when you summoned the angel. Surely, other angels must have heard the call too. They would have intervened when their comrade got stuck inside a human or fell in love with one. Maybe the angels only interfered to make sure no traces were left of an angel summoning- that way, Hwa’s admission of the angelic essence leaving a trace and serving as a marker would be verified. 

Whatever it was, the matter was in your hands now. So far, you had a few ideas- that you could use the angelic essence to lure the angels and face judgement- whatever it was, however it would be delivered. Chances were that only Hwa would have to face the consequences and while it broke your heart, you were sure the angels would at least wipe your memories to ensure another incident like this does not happen again. If your memories were wiped, you would not remember Hwa. That was probably the most risky route you could pick considering the angels could just kill you and Seonghwa and move on. You did not want to die just yet- at least not for Hwa. 

Another idea was to try and attempt a reverse summoning ritual, which was a very theoretical concept with no specific details and no attempts recorded. For that, you needed an anchor in the realm that the being concerned was from, and you had no such anchor. Again, you could not risk involving another angel. 

If you were the only one who could put an end to this, your resources were very limited. All you had was your drugs and your lab and-

Your train of thoughts was interrupted by a soft knock on the door and the door opened to reveal Seonghwa- as soon as you met the man’s curious eyes, you knew it was Hwa instead. 

“You’ve been holed up in here for hours now,” his concerned voice said. “Come on, let’s get some fresh air.”

“Ahh, but I think I was almost there,” you straightened your back and stretched your arms, producing cracks. “Or not. Nothing makes sense.”

“That’s okay,” Hwa smiled. “Maybe some fresh air and a meal will help. When you get too focused on something, it’s good to reel back and change your environment.”

“You’re right, actually,” you got up, shutting your devices but letting the books and notes stay as they were. “I’ll join you after I freshen up.”

“Great- wear a coat. We’ll go eat something outside.”

“Someone is in a good mood today,” you eyed the angel with suspicion but he only raised his hands in the air, pressing his lips in a tight line.

“You know I’m still making it up to you. After what I did- I still feel ashamed.”

You frowned at that- you knew the angel was making an effort to be better. He had apologised until you got sick of it and warned him not to. He resorted to giving you space when you wanted but also trying to make you feel better- asking you before he touched you in any way, making sure you ate your meals and weren’t pushing yourself too hard. He could finally understand why you wanted him and Seonghwa to be two separate entities and for once, he was cooperating.

Another change you had noticed was that Hwa was starting to sound a lot like Seonghwa- in his speech, and often in his mannerism. It was unnerving but you were holding yourself back from complaining, focusing all your energy on finding the answer to this.

But for now, you supposed you could take a breather. You slipped on a black overcoat over your sweats and joined Hwa in the garage, deciding to get some ramen from the convenience store. You fell in step with him, walking down the dark streets of your posh society, lit by the full moon and the streetlights, and talking about what you had learned so far- specifically about demons. He was always willing to verify your facts on that subject.

On the way back, when he offered you his hand, you smiled and took it and he proceeded to tuck your hands in his pocket, making you shake your head. 

“Have you been watching dramas, Hwa?”

“I was bored,” he went as far as to pout. “Those dramas are interesting. I’m learning a lot.”

“No wonder. You’ve been speaking casually,” you pointed out and he frowned.

“Have I?”

“Yeah, you sound like Seonghwa when he’s in a good mood,” you joked and he scoffed.

“I shall go back to the formal tone then. Perhaps you like that more?” 

“I don’t mind either way,” you grinned. “Your formal tone makes you sound a little pompous, if I’m honest.”

“Noted,” he nodded in all seriousness and you squeezed his hand as you chuckled. He glanced at you with curiosity to voice a question that had been on the tip of his tongue all along, “Did you find something worthwhile today?”

You glanced back at him, gauging his expressions. “Not really. It’s too risky if we get a third party involved, whether it's another angel or humans.”

You didn’t miss how his shoulders slightly relaxed as if he had been tense all this time. He looked up at the sky, taking a deep breath. “If you want me to help, all you have to do is ask.”

“I know,” you swallowed the bitterness his words left in your mouth and covered it with a grateful smile- the trust he had broken in admitting that he had, in fact, lied to you had still not mended. You weren’t going to show a hint of doubt because you were scared of what Hwa would do once he learned that you were willing to let him go- even if that meant letting him go forever.

So for good measure, you stood on your tiptoes to peck his cheek, trying not to break into a grin when he let out a flustered sound. He quickly recovered from it and took it as his cue to wrap his arms around your waist and bring you in for a kiss, sweet and sure. 

That was the easiest way to assure the angel that you weren’t planning something devious. There was an itch in your brain and you wanted to talk to Seonghwa before you would ever dare to attempt it. However, before that, you had to make sure the angel felt loved and safe with you- only then would he allow you to have some privacy with Seonghwa.

So you were glad the angel was still holding some guilt in his heart that was preventing him from having a heated session with you. You would rub it in his face by appearing scared or hesitant, sometimes succumbing to your own desires but keeping it restrained nonetheless- just like tonight. You had observed how the angel was especially demanding whenever you were researching on how to get Seonghwa back to normal. 

Even now, as soon as you were back in your room, he was bringing your body flush to his to kiss you deeply. You had to admit that Hwa still made your knees weak and made you give in instantly, especially the way he was taking special care to not let you burn anymore. It still happened sometimes, but not like that night in the lab when he had lost control.

And it was ironically the angel’s glowing eyes that led you to your answer, a wave of understanding washing over you as the dots started to connect in your head. You zoned out as the angel finished healing your burns, his eyes going back to normal as he caught your gaze and raised his brow in question to your surprised expressions.

“Everything good?” He asked, caressing your cheek.

“Perfect,” you smiled, hoping it didn’t look like a smirk. “Everything is perfect.”

The angel patted your cheek, checking the time. “I should let Seonghwa take over soon. If you need me, I’ll be here, okay?”

“Of course,” you assured him. “I’m just gonna wrap this up and get some sleep. I think the lack of sleep is not helping me find answers.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying all along,” Hwa laughed and you played along until he left the room. Finally realising what Archimedes must have felt when he had his own eureka moment, you rushed towards your notes- not the research material, not the history and dark arts books but your notes from the lab placed safely in a locker. 

It could work. Dr. Choi had already unintentionally worked out the logistics of it and was writing a paper on it while he worked to make his research stronger. He was thinking of possible titles and had been rambling about how he wanted to include the phrase ‘angels vs demons’ in it. You were surprised it didn’t click earlier.

You needed to tell Seonghwa- if he was willing to try it, you would reach out to Dr. Choi and work with him. 

You collected yourself and went to Seonghwa’s room, standing outside with your heart pounding uncharacteristically, about to knock when he opened the door, sucking in a breath when he found you right in front of him. 

“I was going to come to your room,” he scanned your face, frowning at the sombreness in your eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s you, right? Seonghwa?” You asked cautiously and Seonghwa nodded thrice- a code to let you know that the angel was nowhere near. He let you inside and you shut the door, facing him.

“I think I’ve found the answer,” you told him in a whisper. “But it’s risky, and I’m scared to try it.”

Seonghwa rubbed his face, tiredness evident in the way his shoulders seemed to be slouching. His hand settled on his neck over the tattoo that was visible from the black pyjamas. “Every method is risky. What do you feel about this?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “It could work. It’s scientific this time, I’ll tell you,” you shared a cryptic look and he understood. “No third party involved.”

“Has the time finally come?” Seonghwa joked with a faint smile on his lips. “You always said you would love to make me a lab rat one day.”

Your lips quirked in amusement and you looked sideways. “Didn’t imagine it would be this serious. I imagined it to be a prank or something. Old me would be ecstatic to learn that I get to tie you to my stretcher.”

“How kinky,” he scoffed and you shot him a glare- this was serious for you and you knew he was trying to keep the mood light for you. 

A moment of silence later, he asked, “What do I need to do?”

You leaned against the door, your hands tucked between your back and the door. Oh, how you wished you could hold him and tell him exactly what he needed to do. How you wished you could turn back time so you were back at the office insisting Seonghwa let you try angel summoning, only this time he tells you off. It was funny how meeting Hwa, the angel, was both something you never wanted to forget and something you wished you had never experienced.

It made your yearning for Seonghwa so much stronger. Perhaps, Seonghwa could feel it in the air- the words you refused to say, the actions you refused to make.  

“Say something, y/n,” he furrowed his brows much like the angel yet so different, demanding. True to Seonghwa’s nature. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Does it bother you when I look at you like that?” You asked. 

There was a feeling in your gut, strange but so very familiar. Impending doom. A sign that you might never get a moment like this again. You always trust your gut, but actually listening to it was a different subject. No wonder you were here right now.

“Don’t avoid my question,” Seonghwa folded his arms but you shook your head, waiting for an answer anyway. Seonghwa took a deep breath, the small distance between your figures not helping with the lack of clarity in his head. 

“Answer my question and I’ll answer yours,” you repeated a phrase you had often used on him, shooting a teasing smile in his direction before letting your eyes wander around the room- anywhere away from his eyes.

“Does it bother me when you look at me like that?” Seonghwa repeated your question, grabbing your attention. “Of course it does. You look at the angel like that-”

“I’ve only ever looked at you like that, Seonghwa,” you sighed heavily. “You were just too blind to notice until you watched me from someone else’s eyes.”

Seonghwa’s heart did break at your admission. 

Having to cohabitate with another being- an angel, specifically, had made him realise quite a few things. In the beginning, it was along the lines of how he never wanted to be a ‘good’ person if the angel was the example of that. The angel was dark at its core, though it wasn’t the type of dark people used to describe humans. It was different- otherworldly and all-consuming. The angel was fighting his own demons, and Seonghwa was fine embracing his demons instead.

However, as time passed, his heart softened despite himself. It would be an excuse to say that the angel had rubbed off on him- his perspective had simply shifted because he saw you and the world from an almost omniscient point of view. While his values had not changed, he had learned the value of the people who cared for him- especially you, who always stuck with him even when he did his worst. He didn’t care if it was simply an obsession anymore- he had seen what obsession looked like through Hwa’s eyes.

Your feelings for him, and his for yours… it was something the angel could never have and Seonghwa was fucking glad about it. He may have let the angel stop him from confessing his love multiple times but if this was the last time he was going to hold you close… he would risk angering the angel. 

“Answer my question,” Seonghwa asked, his voice uncharacteristically wavering. You smiled sadly.

“All you need to do, Seonghwa, is promise that you will try to fight and that you will win. That you will stay- for yourself, for the empire you have built… for the sacrifices you made and the people you lost on the way,” you paused, your gaze falling on his tattoo. “And for me. Because I’m your weapon and you are my shield, and I cannot navigate this world without your protection.”

“I thought you hated how protective I was,” Seonghwa’s lips started curling into a smile, his eyes twinkling with energy as he stepped closer. “I made you a warrior, y/n. If anything happens to me, I trust you to continue my legacy-”

“You made me a warrior, Seonghwa, but I’m tired of this battle,” you declared, an angry streak in your voice. “Nothing will happen to you. I- I will make sure of that. You just have to stay strong and fight.”

“Even if I’m afraid of the unknown?” Seonghwa inquired, placing his hands on your shoulders and caressing the bare skin of your neck.

“The Seonghwa I love isn’t afraid of the unknown,” you reminded him and he locked eyes with you. “He’s afraid of… what was it? Hurting me? Watching me love what hurts me-”

“Sweetheart,” Seonghwa warned, shaking his head but you laughed out loud, curling your hands around his wrists and holding his hands like he had held yours at the lab.

“Seeing burn marks on my hands?” You teased. “How sweet. Afraid of losing me- how romantic, Park Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa glared at you, clenching and unclenching his jaw. “Kind of regret saying that. If I had known you would hold that over me-”

“I’m holding that over you,” you gently interjected, “so you know that you won’t have to be afraid of anything when you come back.”

Seonghwa looked down at your linked hands, taking a few deep breaths and nodding slowly not only because you were right but also because he had learnt another lesson- that it was okay to love someone. Loving someone didn’t always result in losing them. After his friend Hongjoong’s death, he had grown so cold towards you, pushing you and his feelings for you away, tucking them in the deepest corner of his heart. He was lucky you never gave up on him and made him realise that loving someone wasn’t a weakness but a strength.

A reason for him to fight back against the angel. A real reason, not the materialistic ones- he could build an empire again if he had to, but he could not risk losing you. 

“You’re the worst thing that has ever happened to me,” Seonghwa looked at you, watching your lips curl into a smirk. “You devil.”

“Yeah, well,” you took one step closer, looking up at him, daring him to say more. “You’re still here, so.”

Seonghwa stared at you challengingly, a smirk growing on his own lips as he crowded your personal space until your back was against the door. You didn’t shy away, the tension in the air so thick you could feel it caressing your skin along with Seonghwa’s fingers that danced against your collarbone, travelling up the slope of your neck to swipe at your parted lips, his gaze stuck right there. 

“Don’t you ever get enough?” He finally asked what had been bothering him the most. How could you use him to satisfy yourself? Sure, maybe you liked the angel, but he would bet his life that it wasn’t the only reason. 

“It isn’t you,” you simply answered. “It’s so different. I thought it’d be the same, but by then, it was too late, and now-”

Seonghwa put a finger on your lips to shush you- even though the angel was still dormant, he already knew what you were going to say.

And when you puckered your lips against his finger to kiss it, he wished the angel would die and never come back. He leaned in hurriedly, stopping right as your noses brushed, eliciting a gasp from your mouth. 

“When are you doing it?” He asked, referring to your plan.

“Tonight,” you whispered in response, joining your foreheads and nudging his nose affectionately. “I can’t risk him finding out. Keep him at bay tonight, please.”

“If I don’t lose my mind,” Seonghwa whispered, brushing his lips against yours and tightening his grip around your waist. Craning your neck, he brought you in for the long overdue kiss, soft but strong, making your legs go weak and your arms go around his shoulders for support. He drew back to drink your expressions before diving right back in, this time unhurried but demanding, groaning with pleasure in between. When his tongue swiped your lips, you gladly opened your mouth for him, losing yourself in the overwhelming feelings of the love of your life finally caving in to you.

Not once did the angel cross your mind- not when Seonghwa kissed you softly, not when he held you like you would break, and certainly not when he let his desire fuel him as things heated up. You were soon shifted to the bed, Seonghwa promising you that he would make the most of tonight, apologising (for once) for not doing this earlier, holding on to your word when you assured him that you would somehow make this work and set him free. 

You let his touch burn you in a way the angel’s had never- searing passion as opposed to a warning. You let your hands run through his hair without a worry, and let his hair tickle your bare skin as he shed the clothes off you. You let him obsess over you and lose control without the fear of getting hurt- yes, Seonghwa could hurt you in ways no one could but he would never hurt you like the angel had. Seonghwa let his desperation and emotions get the better of him tonight, feeling a sense of relief when he was finally one with you.

And only when you spotted the rays of the sun peak through the curtains, having spent all night in his arms, did you move away from his half asleep body to grab something. He peeked up and you smiled, snuggling into his body once again and sharing one last kiss, whispering confessions to each other. You hugged him after, letting your breathing synchronise with his and memorising the feeling.

And then you injected the tranquilliser into his neck, whispering sweet nothings and peppering kisses on his skin until he lost consciousness.

You had been with Seonghwa in the restricted section in the basement of your lab a few times. 

Most of the time, he turned up there because he could not reach you- you had a habit of forgetting that time was an actual flowing thing and it did not stop still when you were in a certain headspace- which was experimenting with live subjects. He would watch you from the window, shaking his head at the monster he had created while his heart would simultaneously swell with pride. He would wait until you took a breather and knock on the window to get your attention.

A few times, you brought him to that section yourself, updating him on your progress. One thing you liked about Seonghwa was that he may not be the brains behind your drug production but he was fully involved in it, making note of whatever you needed and making sure you were safe here. He liked to be aware of whatever was going on as well.

However, never did you imagine that he would be your next test subject, tied to the stretcher and looking paler in the harsh white lights that lit up the room. He lay unconscious while you monitored his vitals and made sure the demonic essence being administered to him was not overpowering or harmful in any way other than expelling the angel. 

You had a theory that the demonic essence could cancel every ‘impurity’ in the body to dominate as the only ‘impure’ or foreign object in the host. While working on this theory with Dr. Choi a few months ago, before you had ever summoned the angel, you had conducted an autopsy on your test subjects who had died because of the demonic drug. You noted that some of them who had underlying conditions and defects prior to overdose no longer had any defects in their body after death. It was as if the demonic drug had ‘healed’ them first before taking the spot for the sole cause of their death. A true parasitic drug, fighting for dominance to take over its host.

And if it were a demon against an angel… who would win? 

You were hoping that the angel would be expelled from Seonghwa’s body, which would be the best outcome. You would quickly have to inject the angelic essence in Seonghwa’s body at that point to cancel the demonic essence- Dr. Choi and you had worked on it when you put Seonghwa in a comatose state, testing what amount of angelic essence was required to cancel out the demonic one.

In the worst case scenario though, one of them- or both- would die. According to Seonghwa, the angel was already eating away at his soul and it was a struggle for him to continue cohabitating in one body. The angel was powerful and stubborn. It wouldn’t give up so easily, so you would just have to pray that your plan would work and end well for all of you. This was your last and only resort. 

Seonghwa’s body had started shaking a while ago, presumably when the battle between the angel and the demon began. You were constantly wiping sweat from his body and adjusting the drip, sometimes giving in and squeezing his hand as if to assure both Seonghwa and Hwa that you were here and that you were sorry for doing this to them. As more time passed, his body started to tremble fiercely and you tightened the clasps on his wrists and arms, not sure if they would be able to withhold. 

With the damned book that brought the angel to your world resting against Seonghwa’s chest and the holy sword in one hand- tip soaked in wine but not ablaze- you started reading the section of the scripture that contained the angel’s name, Seonghwa’s eyes fluttering open when you repeated it for the third time.

“Hwa?” You asked cautiously, glancing at Dr. Choi who stood near you with the angelic essence vial in one hand and a lighter in the other. You squeezed his limp hand, making him look at you.

“Why did you call me?” He asked, tone as sombre as the first day he saw you. “What are you doing- what is happening?”

“You have to leave this body, angel,” you wiped the tear that rolled down his face. “Go back to your realm for now- just leave-”

You paused when he squeezed his eyes shut, your words eliciting a deep, pained groan out of his mouth. Dr. Choi recognised your signal and set the tip of the sword on fire and the two of you held its hilt, hoping the angel would not possess one of you if it exited the body. You checked the monitor- Seonghwa’s vitals were starting to drop which meant the demonic essence must be working with full force on his body now.

You took the angelic essence vial from the doctor and clutched it in your fist, moving to whisper in Seonghwa’s ear, calling Seonghwa’s name and reminding him of his promise- you have to come back. You have to fight back- you are my shield and I am your weapon, and I am fighting for you. I cannot navigate this world without your protection.

You did not know if it was Seonghwa or Hwa who turned his face so his lips met your cheeks, a confession and a promise tumbling from his mouth. You looked up to meet his eyes but he shut them and fell still. 

Muttering a prayer to any deity who was listening, you poured the contents of the vial in Seonghwa’s mouth, Dr. Choi’s hand on your shoulder squeezing it reassuringly. The sound of your sniffles and the crackling of fire was the only sound in the room for a few minutes before Seonghwa sucked in a sharp breath and his eyes opened- unglowing. 

“Seonghwa,” you breathed, holding your breath as you handed the sword to Dr. Choi and moved to cup his face, checking the vitals on the monitor before turning your full attention to him. He was already looking at you with a dazed look and you locked eyes with him, waiting for his touch to burn you as you caressed his hair, but nothing happened.

You were okay.

“Seonghwa?” You asked cautiously again. “It’s you, right? Tell me it’s you, please.”

Seonghwa gulped, his mouth awfully dry but he managed to move his head in a nod and the wave of exhaustion finally caught up to you, making your legs go weak as you slumped against his body, resting your head on his chest to catch your breath. Dr. Choi moved around and did the work, untying Seonghwa’s limbs and making sure he was responsive, taking some bloodwork and checking to see if there was anything amiss.

“There are still remainders of both the demonic essence and angelic essence in his body,” he said as he observed the blood. “But I think we’ve done what we could have. It will take a while for him to recover so we can continue to monitor him-”

“I’m fine,” Seonghwa insisted and you stifled a grin, looking up at him. “I’m done being the lab rat.”

Dr. Choi smiled. “Welcome back, Sir.”

Seonghwa shot a glare in his direction as he shifted into a sitting position, ignoring his chuckles and looking at you.

“What did you do?”

“Tried to expel the angel out of your body,” you linked your hands and he squeezed them. “It’s… happened, right? Can you feel him anywhere?”

“Not really,” he scratched the back of his neck, thinking. “This could have gone wrong.”

“Obviously. It could have gone very wrong,” you shuddered at the thought. “But I had to take a chance. Hwa was taking over your consciousness with each passing day, and as much as I loved the angel, I couldn’t let him do that to you.”

Seonghwa regarded your expressions, nodding. “And what if the angel ended up taking over?”

You pursed your lips and shrugged. “I think he would have probably killed me for hiding everything from him. I was prepared for that too-” you looked at your side where the sword now stood in the bucket, the fire doused. 

“Anyways, the important thing is that you’re back, Seonghwa,” you smiled wholeheartedly. “Let’s get you out of here.”

Seonghwa smiled back though it didn’t quite meet his eyes. He kissed the back of your hand before letting you go, watching your body move with a newfound energy as you wrapped up everything in the lab, asking Dr. Choi to get some rest as well. 

Once back at home, having washed up and eaten a hearty meal, you took Seonghwa to his room and held his hands, locking eyes with him. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” You asked, scanning his face.

“Just tired, and you know how there’s still the after effects,” Seonghwa muttered, sighing. “I’ll be fine.”

“If you’re angry at me, now is the time to take it out,” you teased. “Though you knew very well what you were getting into.”

“I’m not,” he scoffed, amused. “Well, I am but not because of this,” he corrected. “But I think I’ve learned to let the anger go now. There’s a reason for everything that happens, and for the decisions we make.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Looks like Hwa’s still inside you.”

“What?”

“There’s no way you said that,” you teased, “You don’t compromise to understand other people- you do what you want.”

“Yeah, well,” Seonghwa shrugged. “The angel must have rubbed off on me.”

You smiled and Seonghwa noted the weariness in your eyes. “Will you… miss the angel?”

“I will… of course I will,” you admitted, looking sideways. “I just hope he’s okay. Can you tell what happened to him? Did he get out or… did he get hurt?”

“He got hurt,” Seonghwa confirmed and you pressed your lips, taking a deep breath to keep the tears at bay. “I don’t think he made it, y/n. I can’t tell for sure right now, but it’s not looking good.”

You nodded, squeezing his hands and he moved to embrace you. There were no tears left to cry. You simply clutched onto him and let him calm you down. He let go with a kiss to your forehead.

“Everything will be okay,” he promised and you nodded.

Everything was going to be okay.

“Love, can you hand me the cinnamon powder?” Seonghwa asked, far too focused on the plating of his latest creation even though you were going to devour it in seconds. You told him exactly that as he sprinkled some on the pancakes, making sure the strawberries were set before drizzling chocolate over them. 

“Perfect,” his eyes twinkled with the sort of gleam you used to see only when he was about to take someone’s life.

How the tables had turned.

“It’s just breakfast, Seonghwa, it doesn’t have to be that serious-”

“Shh,” he waved a hand in dismissal. “We need a good meal to be in good spirits. And then we can go and shed some blood- Assemblyman Hwang should not have used street gangs to try to expose our network.”

You shook your head, agreeing, but still amused as you watched him pour the freshly blended fruit juice into your glasses.

“Now eat,” he ordered and you bowed mockingly with a ‘yessir’ before you dived in.

The angel had definitely rubbed off on Seonghwa, because there was no other explanation to this. Soon after Seonghwa recovered, he was back to business, making new deals and expanding his network further as if he had some newfound energy- or perhaps, he was making up for the lost time. Whatever it was, you wouldn’t be complaining- you were simply glad that he was back. 

Though he was a bit different. Gentler, yet still very Seonghwa with his demanding personality. He also picked up cooking, reminding you of your teenage days when he used to make whatever he could with whatever you had at disposal. He was always creative with his meals, but now, his creative freedom was almost surprising. 

Park Seonghwa was back, but a changed man. Still insanely evil at the very core, still driven by his blood thirst and hunger for power. Maybe he had changed only where it concerned you- more welcoming towards you, more understanding of your actions, and so, so loving. His love was as gentle as the angel at times, and as fierce as Seonghwa’s devotion. Sometimes, you were reminded of Hwa- it was a given when they had worn the same skin. 

But your Seonghwa was still very human. And that was all that mattered. His love did not burn you and he did not fear anyone. 

You finished your meals and went to get ready to go out with him- he was letting you accompany him to his ‘little outings’ more and though he wasn’t getting his hands dirty most of the time, the lackeys doing that for him, he still liked going out in the field himself every once in a while. Today was one of those days and you went to your own room to arm yourself.

Seonghwa got ready first, waiting for you in the lobby, staring at the holy sword that was now a showpiece, perched on one of the walls. He felt almost compelled to trace the hilt of the sword, daring to touch the blade that was capable of harming angels, and with a little shriek he drew his hand back, the tips of his fingers an angry red, burned by the sword.

Seonghwa cursed under his breath, moving to the kitchen for some privacy before muttering the prayer he had said for aeons now, allowing his fingertips to heal. He caught his reflection on the glossy material of the fridge, his pupils glowing and he shut them, taking a few deep breaths to get his powers under control.

He heard the faint thumps of your footsteps as you came downstairs and he fixed his posture and his expressions to mimic Seonghwa before he stepped out of the kitchen, nodding in approval when you showed him your weapons before following you outside. 

He let you call you by the name of the human that he was not, and he willingly played along, letting you think that your beloved human had defeated the angel when that was not the case at all. Your beloved human was gone.

Good and evil must coexist in order to survive. But sometimes, the good becomes the evil and the evil becomes the good- they were never meant to balance each other. 

It was only a matter of which one would weigh more and tip the scale in its favour.

[klaus-littlestwolf]

No Matter What- Aemond T.

Aemond is in love, and he refused to allow his nephew to have her. He will take her from Jacaerys by any means necessary.

Am I just going to keep writing my fics as if Season 2 didn’t happen at all?

Yeah…it’s very likely, yes🤣🤣

Also, for the person that DM’d me and asked if I have a name in mind for Y/n when I write for Aemond, yes. In my mind when I write, her name is Rhaella, I just think it’s the most beautiful Targaryen name I’ve heard. I also love Visenya but I feel it’s overused. The only other name I would potentially use would be Saera.

She was surprised by her Uncles attitude from the moment she first saw him again.

Y/n and Aemond had been best friends in their childhood. She had climbed onto the back of the Grey Ghost when she was only 5 years old (most people believing that the Dragon knew they were the same when it came to how shy and avoidant they were).

They hadn’t been close up until that point, only being 5 and 6 years old and both being outcasts among their family (though she almost preferred it that way). Y/n had offered to take Aemond with her flying one night after Aegon, Jace and Luke had ridiculed him again and he actually agreed, resting his hand on the nose of a dragon for the first time as Y/n calmed him. Climbing into the saddle and holding onto his niece had been awkward and a bit embarrassing until they were in the air and Aemond knew he was truly born for this.

From then on Y/n offered to take him with her quite often, always after their brothers had bullied one of them again. She comforted him, even once letting Aemond take the reigns and fly Ghost himself (which the pale dragon didn’t like at all sadly and only lasted a few moments), but the fact that she had done it meant the world to him. He promised to take Y/n with him on his dragon as soon as he mounts one, wanting desperately to impress her.

Aemond was Obsessed

Their friendship lasted like that for almost 4 years before that horrible night when Aemond was attacked by her brothers. He had been so excited to tell her about Vhagar, he had actually been running inside to wake her and take her flying like he promised when he was cut off.

She had held his hand from the moment she ran in, trying to comfort him as much as she was able until her mother pulled her away. Aemond raged when she was dragged away from his side but he was held down by Criston Cole from trying to take his Princess back, Daemon carrying the 9 year olds squirming body out and away from him.

As they all left the next morning he tried to find her, Rhaenyra glaring at him as he searched the courtyard and he knew her mother hadn’t let her come and say “goodbye”…that night was the last time he saw her for almost 9 years…

It was the worst thing Rhaenyra could have done. She had made her younger brother desperate, and desperate men do desperate things…he would have her back. No Matter What.

Aemond dreamed about nothing but his niece every single day after, determined to make her his despite the fact that her mother would never betroth her to him. He knew the only way he could make her his wife was to take her and make it the only option, Alicent would most definitely force their wedding very quickly rather than watch the only “legitimate” grandchild of her husband (other than his brother and sisters 3 children) carry a child unwed (as she was Daemons daughter “secretly” but could at least be passed off as not being Harwin Strongs).

When he finally saw her again he felt his breath stolen from his body, she was stunning, the most gorgeous creature he had ever laid eyes on. A women now, standing just shorter than Jace as she watched him in his training session with Cole. Aemond fought hard, determined to show her what he had become and he quickly ended the fight with his sword at his trainers throat.

‘Well done my Prince. You’ll be winning tourneys in no time.’

Aemond rolled his eyes at that. ‘I don’t give a shit about tourneys…nephews. Have you come to train?’ He questioned, looking over the both of them before making eye contact with Y/n who blushed heavily as he did. ‘Niece. It is a pleasure to lay eyes on you again…and you are truly a sight to behold.’ He stepped closer, shoving himself between the Strongs to take her hand in his, lifting it to his lips and looking into her lovely purple eyes. Aemond was comforted to see no fear or disgust on her face, but her beautiful blush was something he wanted to see forever. ‘You are just as gorgeous as I imagined you to be.’ He whispered, leaning close to her ear.

‘Thank you Uncle. You have become ever more handsome, a man grown. The ladies must be fighting tooth and nail for your affections.’ She teased, however before he could respond and insist that he wanted no affections but her own, her bastard brother snatched her hand from his.

‘I would thank you to keep your hands to yourself Uncle, my betrothed should not be touched by anyone but me.’ Jace spoke with a smirk on his face. Anyone with eyes knew Aemond had always been in love with Y/n and his nephew was smug to be able to take any kind of happiness away from him as he always had done.

Aemond composed himself immediately, smiling down at him kindly but Jace could see the rage in his eye, the silent threat that he was giving being clear. ‘I suppose congratulations are in order then.’ And though he said it, he gave none before smiling at Y/n who was then pulled in the opposite direction and out of the courtyard.

‘I do not want to see him touching you again, do you understand me?’ Jace demanded as they got into the castle, Y/n pulling her hand from his angrily.

‘You are not yet my husband brother, don’t you dare order me as if you are. I still have plenty of time to tell mother I would rather be betrothed to anyone but you and that Baela can be Queen by your side one day. I am not an object for you to take possession of!’ And with that she stormed off, Aemond around the corner having heard the whole thing. He knew exactly how to get his girl to be his…though he doubted it would be hard with how his nephew treated his Queen.

‘You should be kinder to your future Queen-‘

‘She is mine, whether she likes it or not. I am to be the King one day, she cannot refuse me.’ Jace joked with Luke who snorted, Aemond turning and leaving the hall. Y/n was his future wife, no matter what he had to do to make sure of it.

After the horrific meeting to attempt to give Driftmark to anyone but Luke he was sadly reestablished as heir thanks to the King and Aemond found himself in a bit of trouble with everyone at dinner after calling his nephews Strong.

All of them were sent to their chambers and he hightailed it back to her chamber, slipping in before his niece and her guard arrived, hiding behind the wardrobe in case anyone came in with her.

‘I am tired Jacaerys, all I want is a good, long sleep. Just leave me be for the night, I will not answer you if you come back! I need no protection from you!’ She snapped as the door opened.

‘If Aemond-‘

‘Aemond is not here! And now you are not here either, go to your own chambers and give me a night of peaceful sleep after all of this Bullshit!’ She slammed the door, locking it instantly and Aemond could feel his cock hardening in his breeches. Something about hearing her reject Jace was a turn on for him in a major way and he wanted to mark her neck up with as many bite marks as possible, he needed to show his nephew who his Princess truly belonged to.

‘That was impressive.’ Aemond spoke, seeing her nearly jump a foot in the air as she gasped. ‘Apologies, I didn’t mean to frighten you…I just wanted to see you. I knew your betrothed would not allow you even a moment in my presence.’ Her eyes were slit instantly as he said this.

‘Jace thinks he can control me but I will not let myself be that kind of wife! I am not an object to be owned, to be ordered around in front of his friends to make him look like a strong man or King! I do not want to be his wife or his Queen!’ She snapped and Aemond did his best to look at her softly, wanting her to see his empathy and her eyes widened as she realized what she had done. ‘I am so sorry Kepus! You did not deserve that, I am not angry at you. I am so-‘ (Uncle)

‘Breathe Byka Dārilaros…it is alright. I understand how angry he makes you feel, I hate him as well, remember?’ He teased and she chuckled before stepping forward and not hesitating to wrap her arms around his body, resting her head on his chest. (Little Princess)

‘I missed you so much Kepus…I wanted to write to you but my mother wouldn’t let me. She said it was a betrayal to Luke and that since you didn’t write to me, you clearly wouldn’t care but I-‘

‘I did write to you. I sent letters for months before I received one from my sister telling me to stop, that you did not want to hear from me but I knew that was a lie . There was not a single day that passed that I did not think about how much I missed you…’ Aemond looked down at her, his arms around her to hold her to him, hesitating only a moment as he looked into her soft eyes and pressed his lips to hers.

She surprised him a bit when she didn’t hesitate to kiss him back, her hands moving to hold his shirt tightly as he took her face into his and held her close. Y/n was his everything and he had been craving for this exact moment since he was 6 years old, wanting to kiss her since the moment they first flew together. She will be his and he will keep her close forever, determined to never let anyone touch what is his ever again-especially Jace.

‘You are so perfect…’ he mumbled against her lips before pulling away and resting his forehead on hers. ‘Do you want this? I don’t want to force you into anything you do not desire, my love…however I want you to be mine. I have craved you for so many years and I will cherish the ground you walk on if you will be mine.’ Aemond knew giving her the choice would make the difference in pushing her to do what she wanted even against her mothers wishes.

‘I love you Kepus, I always have…our mothers will never-‘

‘There is a way…My mother will insist upon it if I have already filled you with my son…’ he tried to speak softly, let her know that it is her choice to make. ‘I love you Byka Dārilaros, and I want you to be my wife more than anything. The thought of being forced to marry another turns my stomach however I will never force myself upon you. If you would marry Jace then I will love you from afar…but if you want me then I will make love to you right here and now. I will pleasure you all night long until you are so full of me there is no doubt you carry my son and then I will sleep inside of your pretty little cunt for our family to find come morning…let me love you in every way that he can’t.’ There were tears in her eyes as he finished speaking to her and he moved to wipe them away before she spoke again. Y/n reached up, taking the eyepatch covering his sapphire into her fingers before he caught her wrist awkwardly. No lady had ever seen his face and not been uncomfortable or disgusted by it which is why he always covered it whenever he wasn’t alone in his room or in the library.

‘I would look upon your face and see all that you are…while you fill me with our first child.’ He looked at her, startled for a moment before he released her hand and she pulled the eyepatch off.

‘First of many…I will fill you with as many children as you desire.’ Aemond promised before kissing her again, his hands moving to the back of her dress where he unlaced the corset and pulled it down her arms, lifting her out of the dress and moving to drop her onto the bed. She pulled off her small clothes as she watched him remove his shirt and breeches, leaving him bare and revealing his hard cock that was already leaking. ‘You are so beautiful, my love…tell me that you’re mine.’ Aemond insisted, his hand giving his member a firm stroke.

‘I’m yours Kepus, all yours forever.’ She promised as he crawled over her, kissing his jaw and down his neck sweetly. She was just so precious he couldn’t help the needy feeling in his chest demanding he take her.

‘All mine! Should any man look at you even a moment too long ever again, I will remove their eyes and feed them to the ravens.’ Aemond pushed her legs apart more so that he could settle between them, feeling her wetness on his cock for the first time and nearly cumming on the spot. He gave her a moment to relax herself upon pushing into her however she shocked him once again, moaning like a whore only a moment later prompting him to shove his hand over her mouth. ‘If someone hears you then your guard will come in here and we will be dragged apart. I would hear your lovely moans forevermore once I’ve filled your cunt but for now you must hush.’ She whined but bit her bottom lip hard to keep from making any loud noises. Aemond loved the knowledge that he could make her moan like that, in love with fucking her body already as he thrust up into her roughly. Her nails dug into his shoulders, scratching down his back painfully which sent a rush of pleasure through his belly upon him sucking hard on her throat, biting into her perfect skin quite hard and covering her mouth with a hand once again as she nearly screamed, her pussy tightening around his cock in a way he had never felt before which practically dragged his own end from his body. ‘Gods be good, I’ve never felt anything like that before…you felt good?’ It was an insecure moment of him needing that reassurance and while with anyone else he would have been instantly embarrassed, she nodded, quite dazed it seemed and he knew she didn’t judge him for a moment. ‘Your cunt is a form of blissful ecstasy I did not know was attainable. You are mine now Y/n…say it…’

‘Yours Aemond…all yours…you will be my husband as soon as next week and you will be able to have me anytime and any place you desire. I never thought it could feel like that…I love you Kepus.’ Her words touched him and in that moment Aemond knew that he would never need anyone else in this world again as long as he had Y/n and their future silver haired babies.

‘I love you too Mandianna, I always have. From this night on they will never be able to steal you from me again! You are all mine Y/n…and I will take pleasure in making sure everyone knows it.’ He made his point as he thrust his hard cock up into her once more prompting her sharp intake of breath, nails digging into his forearms before pulling him down to kiss her. (Niece)

Aemond spent the night filling his future wife with as much of his seed as his body held, biting her perfect pale skin everywhere he could reach and ensuring no one would ever be able to argue who she belonged to again. He finally had what he had always wanted, the only things left to do was put a tiara upon her head and meet their children.

The knock on the door was the thing that awakened the both of them the next morning quite early and far too soon considering how many hours Aemond had spent filling his bride…(6 hours). It was frantic and Aemond groaned, pulling Y/n closer into his chest as he was happy to ignore it before her mother shouted.

‘Y/n! You aren’t at breakfast and neither is Aemond! If he is in there with you…!’ She warned and Aemond found the half threat amusing.

‘Aemond! Are you in there?!’ His mother was the one shouting through the door now and he smiled, kissing his soon-to-be-wife’s lips before responding.

‘Good morning mother!’ He responded.

‘You Little Fuck! If you’ve hurt my daughter I swear to all of the Gods!’ Rhaenyra raged. ‘Daemon! Get This Door Open!’ She demanded.

‘He did not hurt me mother!’ Y/n stated just before the first loud hit to the door causing his girl to scream, turning to hide her face into his neck as he sat up. It took 2 more strikes before the door burst open and their mothers entered along with Daemon and Otto. Y/n was covered up to her waist while her upper body was pressed to his leaving only her back exposed.

‘Aemond! What have you done?’ Alicent asked sadly, clearly trying to think of a solution, knowing there was only one in this situation.

‘You all know that we have loved each other since we were children. Did you think that would go away just because you didn’t give her my letters sister?’ Rhaenyra’s eyes widened before she glared at him in a rage.

‘What is he talking about?’ His mother asked.

‘I didn’t want him speaking to her! She will not marry her Uncle like-‘

‘Like you did?’ Alicent deadpanned making the Princess look to her. ‘She will actually marry her Uncle, from this moment they are betrothed-‘

‘My daughter is already betrothed to-‘

‘Not anymore!’ Otto cut her off. ‘From this moment on the Princess Y/n Velaryon is to be wed to Prince Aemond Targaryen. The wedding will take place at the end of the week, we cannot have anyone knowing of these indiscretions when she begins to show as I am assuming she is likely pregnant?’ He asked Aemond who grinned.

‘Oh, most definitely. I’ve left no doubt that she carry’s my son. I was actually planning on filling her with another one before you so rudely broke the door down-‘

‘Do not push your luck Aemond!’ His Grandsire warned.

‘I should remove your head you insolent little shit.’ Daemon growled, Aemond seeing the rage in his eyes.

‘Then your grandchild would be without a father, Uncle. What purpose would that serve except ensuring your daughter hates you?’ Y/n moved her hand to pinch his side making him jump. ‘I’m sorry Byka Dārilaros.’

Aemond could see the surprise at his apology in his mother and Grandsire’s eyes. ‘Maybe this will be a good thing after all.’ Otto considered before turning to leave the room.

‘No more fooling around. Get dressed and get to breakfast. Now.’ With that his mother guided Rhaenyra and Daemon reluctantly out of the room.

‘Can your husband help you get dressed my love?’ Aemond questioned and she kissed his shoulder before biting his neck as he had done to her about 30 times the previous night, the evidence of which was very clear to see all over her chest and breasts. Aemond was proud though, because while she could hide those the 5 marks on her neck were not able to be hidden before breakfast where he was eager for Jace to see them.

They were both dressed 10 minutes later, their hair staying down until after they broke their fast for the day, Aemond leading her down the halls and enjoying the smile on his girls face as they entered the room with their family. He sat her down beside him and watched her fill her plate and eat, clearly hungry from their previous nights activities which filled him with pride at being able to satisfy his wife.

‘What is that?’ A voice demanded and everyone looked up to see Jace pointing at Y/n’s neck.

‘Jace, we will discuss this after we eat. You-‘

‘No!’ He cut his mother off, jumping up from his seat and moving to Y/n’s side in an instant, yanking her hair to the side and looking at her neck. Aemond heard her whimper in pain as he pulled her hair, holding her chin to expose her throat to him and he was instantly up from his chair with his hands on Jace.

‘That’s Enough!’ Rhaenyra shouted before Aemond punched his nephew who nearly flew backwards at the force his fist caused before he moved to grab him again, a voice calling his name through the jumble of people yelling which had his attention immediately.

‘Come eat with me Kepus, please?’ Y/n asked softly and he couldn’t deny her that as she held her hand out. Aemond moved to take it, lifting her onto his lap and sitting to eat, feeding her and feeling proud at providing her what she needs, thoroughly enjoying her feeding him as well.

It seemed that everyone was shocked at Aemond disengaging from the fight but his attention was on his soon to be wife as it should be. ‘We should go for a morning flight after breakfast…let me take you for a ride as I promised, late as the kept promise may be.’ Y/n looked up at him and he could see her surprise which he found adorable.

‘You…you want me to-to ride Vhagar?’ She questioned and he chuckled.

‘Not alone of course but yes, I had wanted to take you up with me the night I mounted her but that clearly didn’t happen. It will be fun, I promise.’ The smile on his girls face was worth everything to him. She was precious and he would keep his wife happy no matter what. If that meant that his nephews and older sister needed to be un-happy, then that was just icing on the cake for him.

He finally took her flying with him later that day, though it made her own dragon quite grumpy and forced her to take Ghost for his own flight before they could go back home. Aemond had finally kept his promise, and had ensured he got exactly what he wanted in the end.

Now all that is left for Aemond to do is figure out how to make Y/n his Queen and fulfill his dream of his wife riding him on the Iron Throne.

That one may take a bit more work, but he would ensure it, No Matter What.

Aemond T. Masterlist

[hellodropbear]

chosen.

mapi leon x ingrid engen x daughter

isabel is finally adopted

new chapter!!!

as always, hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think (good or bad lol) and anything else you want to see :)

~~~~~~

It was something Isabel had been nagging Mapi about for months. Maybe even longer. 

Isabel wasn't stupid anymore, she knew that Mapi had not planned to be her mother. There were other people, and half of her was made of who was supposed to be her father, the man that Mapi spoke so highly of despite getting choked up every time he was brought up in conversation. 

She knew they had died right before she was born and she knew that Mapi was left with a baby that she hadn't actually asked for. 

Isabel knew Mapi stopped playing football until she was older, taking a long chunk out of what would have likely been the peak of her career. 

She knew Ingrid came along later, which is why she had grown up calling her Ingrid. 

She didn't call her Mami, she didn't call her Mama. She called her Ingrid which just seemed so wrong. 

Because Ingrid was her mother, as much as Mapi. 

Mapi had given birth to her, she was a single mother for the first two years probably, until her relationship with Ingrid started getting more serious and both Isabel and Mapi became more and more reliant on the brunette Norwegian that they had fallen in love with so quickly. 

Isabel looked like Mapi, and she carried a few of her personality traits around with her. Outgoing, funny, chatty. 

But Ingrid also raised her, which meant she carried around the Norwegian's calmness, her kindness and her emotional nature. 

She was practically a carbon copy of Mapi on the outside, but anyone who knew her on the inside would say she was the perfect blend of both women. 

So how come she only called one of them Mami? 

Why was it that if she was seriously injured, only Mapi would be called up?

And Isabel wasn't stupid, she knew that Ingrid wished she had been there from the beginning, that her name was written on all of the important documents. She knew that Ingrid wished she was called Mama. 

Not Ingrid. 

When she was younger, Isabel would call Ingrid Mama when she was tired or sad, if she wanted a hug or if she was just feeling emotional. 

It would be in those tender moments and Ingrid's heart would melt every time. It was always in the apartment, hidden away from the rest of the world and just the three of them there together. 

But it never really stuck, and Isabel continued to call her by her first name everywhere else. Her teachers would ask about Mami and they'd ask about Ingrid, her friends would get confused because who is Ingrid?

They all just had a Mami and a Papi. 

Ingrid always thought that Mami and Mama would make more sense. 

So when Mapi knocked on her bedroom door, an official looking document held securely in her hand, Isabel had a very large suspicion that she knew exactly what was in that plastic slip. 

Mapi could tell she knew, the way her eyes lit up and she immediately placed her guitar to the side, sitting up as Mapi moved to sit beside her. 

"Is it them?"

Mapi smiled, tears in her eyes. 

"Yeah, it is."

"Mami!" Isabel practically jumped on her trying to hug her, tears springing from her eyes as well. "Thank you so much!"

Mapi just shrugged. 

"She's your Mama and has been for your whole life, this just makes it official."

"We have to plan something so special! Mami, I can't wait to tell her!"

Mapi laughed softly, planting a kiss on Isabel's head and hugging her in close. 

"We'll just have to make sure she says yes! She might not want to be officially related to a little rodent like you."

Isabel laughed, whacking her mother's side in mock offence and rolling her eyes. 

They both knew that it wasn't true, that Ingrid loved Isabel more than anything else. 

"She loves me more than you, Mami, you're just jealous."

Mapi laughed, silently agreeing. 

She would never admit that though. 

"You wish."

~~~~~~

Isabel spent every minute of the next two weeks planning what would be the perfect surprise for Ingrid, only requesting advice from Mapi a few times. 

It was a photo album that she was creating, filled with just pictures of them as Isabel got older, Mapi only featuring at times that Isabel deemed it absolutely necessary.

Birthdays, christmases, family barbecues, trips to Norway. Summer holidays on the beach. 

Skating competitions, Isabel stood there proudly with the gold medal hanging round her neck, a giddy smile on her face as Ingrid had picked her up despite her rapidly growing figure. 

She had scrolled through all of Mapi's old photos, printing out the good ones and sticking them in the page with stickers and little notes until it was completely full. 

She wrote a letter, enlisting Caro to help her perfect her Norwegian, making her swear to secrecy - the contents of the note were strictly confidential. 

She came up with a plan, something she knew Ingrid would love. A walk to their park was nothing worth being suspicious of, not even when the 10 year old pulled out Bagheera’s carrier. 

It was a family affair, she told Mapi. It would be mean to leave the cat out of it just because she didn’t usually go on their walks. 

It was a nice walk and a nice picnic, planned out to the T by Isabel, down to what colour lined the paper plates and how the fruits on the fruit platter would be cut. 

Everything she did was for Ingrid and if the Norwegian had asked her, she would have been able to explain every single decision in a way that related back to how much she loved Ingrid. 

Perhaps, for that reason, it was best that the papers were forgotten at home, because Ingrid would have been inconsolable if she saw the papers, the photo album and then was explained every single little decision made by her little girl. 

Isabel was disappointed, but Mapi reassured her that the Norwegian would not mind, that her reaction wouldn't change whether she was given those papers on the top of the eiffel tower or in a dump in the middle of the city. 

So the 10 year old waited until they got home and finished eating dinner, only heading up to her room to collect the file once Mapi and Ingrid were sat on the sofa, waiting for their child to return and choose something to watch. 

She couldn't help the nerves that filled up her stomach, the anxieties that began to attack her as soon as the file was in her shaking hand. She almost felt sick as she walked downstairs, spying the back of Ingrid's head, hearing their voices chatting and laughing. 

It took one last push of confidence to walk and stand in front of them, the file held tightly in her hands as she anxiously rocked back and forth on her heels. 

She took a deep breath, realising that everything she had planned to say was long forgotten, instead just brandishing the file towards Ingrid, who took it with an air of confusion as she glanced between Isabel and Mapi. 

"What's this, Is?"

Isabel cowered under her glance, suddenly full of insecurity and self doubt. Would Ingrid even want to be her mother?

She had spent so much time thinking about how much she wanted Ingrid to be her mother, that she sort of ignored the possibility that the Norwegian didn't want that. 

And that would completely break the 10 year old. 

"Just open it." Mapi smiled reassuringly at Isabel, noticing her nerves, before looking over at Ingrid who had completely frozen as soon as she read the first few words on the top of the first page. 

She immediately broke down in tears, her body racking with sobs as she realised what she had just been given.

~~~~~~

"Isabel Leon! We're going and we're going now!" Ingrid was beyond frustrated, the 8 year old not listening to a word she said. Mapi was out of town for the week so they had been left alone together and the child was experiencing a severe case of 'I miss my mum' and it was materialising as disobedience and ignorance of Ingrid. 

"No!" She slammed her door closed for effect, throwing herself on her bed and willing herself not to cry. 

"Isabel, this is important and I can't leave you here. We have to go, you can sulk in the car."

The Norwegian was stood right outside the door, her hands massaging her head in frustration at the girl. 

"No! I'm not coming."

Ingrid huffed, shoving open the bedroom door and picking the ever-growing child up from her bed. 

"Ingrid!" She screeched loudly, almost deafening the brunette. "NO! Put me down, Ingrid, NOW!"

Her words dissolved into sobs as Ingrid continued to carry her until they had exited the apartment, the door locked behind them, Isabel left with no way to get back in. 

"I want Mami, Ingrid, I miss Mami!"

She shook her head, using her hand to guide the child into the lift. 

"Well Mami's gone, so you're stuck with me for now. You're just going to have to make do."

The child lashed out at the words and the contact, flipping around and facing Ingrid as the elevator doors closed. 

"There's a reason you're not my Mami!"

Her vision was blurred by her tears so she couldn't see the hurt that flashed over the woman's face. She only realised later that night that what she said was wrong, that she had been horrible to someone she loved so much for no reason. 

And Ingrid would never admit the reason that she was in tears as Mapi called her that night, alone and wrapped up in bed. 

As she put down the phone, tears still dripping down her face. It wasn’t often that her insecurities returned, but when they did it was like wildfire, quickly spreading and destroying everything good in it’s path. 

Because Isabel was right, Ingrid wasn’t her Mami. She wasn’t her Mama either, she was just Ingrid. 

She was Isabel’s Mami’s girlfriend. 

But if she asked either of the Spaniard’s, they would assure her that she is so much more than that. 

It was with desperation that she tried to wipe her tears away as her bedroom door creaked open, Isabel creeping through the door and silently climbing up onto Mapi’s side of the bed, curling herself up in Ingrid’s side. 

The Norwegian didn’t realise she was crying until she heard the sniffle, her shoulders shuddering subtly.

“Is.” Ingrid’s voice was a whisper and Isabel turned around to face her, eyes puffy and her cheeks stained with tears. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry, Ingrid.”

She took a deep, shuddery breath and nestled her head into Ingrid’s chest. 

“Please don’t leave me and Mami.”

Ingrid frowned, wrapping her arms tighter around the girl. 

“Why would you think I was leaving you and your Mami?”

Isabel shrugged, her voice breaking as she replied. 

“I said that you’re not my Mami, but you are. I was naughty and you were angry and I don’t want you to leave me, Ingrid, because I love you.”

The Norwegian’s heart broke but she took a deep breath, closing her eyes and responding. 

“I will never leave you and your Mami. Never ever worry about that because I will always be here. And you were just upset today, you missed Mami and you were angry and sad and said stuff to me that you didn’t mean but it’s ok, Is, because you know it was naughty and you’ve apologised. But please, never ever worry about me leaving. I love you way too much to not see you every single day.”

~~~~~~

“Where is Ingrid, Mami?” 

She had woken up confused, her head sore and her arm in a cast. 

All she could remember was dragging Pina and Patri to the skatepark, showing off her new tricks. They were impressive, for a 9 year old and Mapi worried every day about her little girl flying around the skatepark with little to no concern about her own safety. 

When Pina and Patri had offered to babysit, she specifically told them that if they went to the skatepark, Isabel had to wear all the protective equipment that Mapi had purchased. 

Which she did, the two women making sure everything was on tight, equally as nervous as Mapi tended to be whenever she had to accompany Isabel to the skatepark. 

But whenever Pina or Patri turned their back, she would discreetly shed another protective item, embarrassed and humiliated in front of all the local skaters who wore nothing but their normal clothes and a helmet. 

They noticed, of course they did, but Isabel was too quick on her board for them to catch her and put them back on.

“Pequena!” Patri had yelled, her voice stressed and somewhat angry. “Come back here right now and put this all back on!”

It was rare Patri yelled at her, so the harsh words came as a shock to Isabel, who tried to pull off a spin at the top of the bowl so she could turn around. 

Except it was a trick she hadn’t quite mastered yet, and instead of landing it on two feet, she plummeted to the base of the bowl with a sickening crunch, immediately bursting into tears. 

Pina swore as Patri jumped down to her, scooping her up in her arms and giving her a quick once over. 

Her heart sank when she saw the wonky arm. Broken, easily. 

Pina grabbed the board and followed quickly, jumping into the drivers seat as Patri carefully slid into the back, nursing Isabel’s arm as the 9 year old sobbed in pain. 

“Please, Patri!” She had sobbed, tears streaming down her face. “Don’t tell Mami, she will be so mad at me.”

Patri sighed quietly, knowing that Mapi’s anger would be directed entirely at Pina and herself. 

She didn’t tell Isabel that, instead kissing her head and soothing her, whispering quiet Spanish in her ear until her cries weakened and she fell asleep. 

The doctors in the hospital had confirmed the broken arm, as well as a very minor concussion that required monitoring for 24 hours. 

But she woke up, her mother’s familiar tattooed hand resting on her leg, her eyes full of worry and stress as she stared down at her daughter. 

Ingrid, on the other hand, was nowhere to be seen.

Mapi had been so caught up in her daughter’s injuries that she hadn’t even considered where Ingrid was having not seen her since that very morning. 

“I’m so glad you’re ok, my lion cub.”

The discipline about her gear would come later. Even if Patri and Pina had disregarded it, she had told Isabel time and time again about it’s importance. Today, unfortunately, Mapi had been proven right. 

She had yelled that to the two younger Spaniards as they waited in the hallway, sending them home with their heads bowed and tears in their eyes. 

For some reason, they didn’t tell her that they had been extra careful all day, Isabel only getting hurt after they had told her to come back to replace all her knee pads. Mapi was so angry, which they had understood. 

They were just upset because she had told them they would never see the little girl again, mapi couldn’t trust two people so irresponsible.

It was dramatic, of course, but Pina and Patri had never seen Mapi so angry before. 

“Where’s Ingrid?”

Mapi sighed quietly, stroking Isabel’s hair back. 

“I’ll call Ingrid, she can come in.”

She did just that, easily dialling the Norwegian on her phone, only having to wait through two rings before she picked up. 

“Is has been asking for you, Ingrid, do you want to come over to the hospital?”

Mapi hadn’t really known where Ingrid was, but her concern about why her girlfriend wasn’t there was sort of pushed to the side as she worried about her daughter’s wellbeing. 

She didn’t expect Ingrid to sound so frustrated, so upset. 

“I’ve been here this whole time, Mapi! They won’t let me up because I’m not on her documents. You’re her mother, not me.”

The Spaniard’s heart dropped, immediately filling with guilt. 

“I’ll be right there.”

She was practically flying down the stairs, grabbing Ingrid by the arm and pulling her into the lift. 

“I’m sorry, Ingrid. I’m so sorry.”

It was hard for the Spaniard to keep her tears at bay, the emotions of her day catching up with her. But Ingrid broke down in her arms, silently crying. 

“She’s my kid too, Mapi. She’s my kid too.”

Isabel didn’t know why both Ingrid and Mapi were crying when they entered her room again, but she did finally feel at ease with them both on either side of her, swiftly falling asleep as their hands rested on her smaller form. 

~~~~~~

Her first day of school had gone well. Better than well, really, she had loved everything about it. 

Her teacher, her friends, the food, her new pencil case and backpack. 

Everything had been perfect. It was still perfect as she spied her mother standing by the gate, Baloo’s leash in her hand as the young golden retriever stood steady by her side. 

“Mamiii!” 

Her backpack was dropped on the floor as she raced towards Mapi, throwing herself into her open arms and sighing contentedly as she was picked up, her head fitting easily on Mapi’s shoulders. 

“Oh hello there!” 

Mapi smiled, walking over to the abandoned school bag and skillfully bending down to pick it up with one hand, her daughter and the dog’s leash being held securely in the other. 

“How was your day, Is?”

Her question caused the girl to burst into excited chatter, eating Mapi’s ear off with her words as she recounted every possible story from the moment she was dropped off the the moment she was reunited, her words so quick that she was all finished by the time they arrived back to the apartment. 

“I made a friend, Mami!” 

She skipped beside her mother as they walked towards the lift, a grin settled on her face. 

Mapi was impressed, but not remotely surprised. It seemed that her daughter had inherited her own chattiness and confidence, but she was also an inherently happy kid who practically radiated sunshine. 

Mapi never had to worry about the girl making friends. 

So she listened as Isabel told her all about her new friend Sofie, about how she wasn’t even from Spain. 

“She’s from the same place as Esmee, Mami!” 

Dutch, Mapi thought. She wondered what a Dutch family was doing in Barcelona.

She continued to talk about Sofie’s older brother, her mother and father. Her grandparents and her cousins. 

But a small frown settled upon her face, as she looked up at Mapi with an inquisitive gaze. 

“I told her that I have a Mami, but no Papi. She asked who else looks after me because her Mami needs her Papi’s help all the time, so I told her I have an Ingrid, but she didn’t really get it. Because Ingrid isn’t a Papi.”

Mapi sighed, unclipping Baloo from his leash and moving to unpack Isabel’s backpack.

“Come up here, Is.” She patted the kitchen bench in front of her and the girl raced over, pulling herself up onto the bench with a practised ease. 

“You don’t have a Papi, no. But you have a Mami, don’t you?” Isabel nodded her head eagerly, wriggling slightly in her spot. “And who else do you have?”

“I have an Ingrid!” 

Mapi nodded, but gave her a look that prompted her to continue. 

“And an Ale, a Frido, Esmee! Pina, Patri. Leila, even though she lives all the way in England.”

“Who else?”

“Abuela and Abuelo! And tio and tia!” 

Mapi nodded proudly, placing her hands on Isabel’s shoulders. 

“You don’t have a Papi, Is, but you do have so many people here that love you, Ingrid more than anyone. We can’t even remember life without Ingrid, can we?”

Isabel shook her head, frowning. 

“I miss her when she’s away.”

“So do I.”

It was true, the house always seemed so much more quiet whenever the Norwegian had to return to Norway, even though she made by far the least noise out of all of them. She was a popular presence and one that made life so much more enjoyable for the two of them. 

Of course on the other side, Ingrid missed them equally as much and she was absolutely devastated that her national team duties were pulling her away from Isabel as she started school, one of the biggest days yet in her short life. 

But she had missed yet another milestone, just as she was cementing her place as a mother in Isabel’s life. 

“But Is, she’s your Mami too. You know this, she’s Mama.”

Isabel nodded. 

“I don’t think Sofie knew that it was ok to have no Papi because she looked sad when I told her.”

“Well, tomorrow you can tell Sofie that you’re ok! You don’t need a Papi because you have a Mama instead. Tell Sofie that families always look different but that doesn’t mean we love each other any less.”

She grinned, her head bobbing up and down happily. 

“I love you Mami!” 

Mapi smiled, reciprocating her words without hesitation. 

“Do you want to call Ingrid and tell her the same thing?”

“Let’s call Mama!” 

Mapi smiled with pride, scooping Isabel up in her arms and walking them over to the sofa as she dialled Ingrid. 

And that is where they sat for the next couple of hours, on the phone to their Ingrid, cuddled up in each others arms. 

It was Mapi’s favourite place, only made better when the Norwegian was right there too, her soft skin providing that extra love and warmth that both Spaniards desired so deeply. 

Ingrid was family now. Irreplaceable and incomparable. 

But if you asked Mapi, she would say that Ingrid had been family from the moment she first held Isabel in her arms. 

~~~~~~

Isabel watched as Ingrid broke down, tears streaming down her face and landing with big splats on her legs. 

The Norwegian was always going to be emotional, that was expected. Both Spaniards knew how insecure she was about her place in Isabel’s life, her role in this family. The insecurities were thick, stubborn. They never went away, despite how much Isabel and Mapi tried to cut them out, to push them away. 

The truth was enough for them to withstand any pushing that the mother daughter duo attempted, the facts were all there. 

Mapi was Isabel’s mother, she was the one on the documents, the one who was called if anything happened. She was allowed in Isabel’s hospital room when she got sick and she was the one that Isabel called Mami. 

Ingrid knew she was important, she knew she was loved. 

But she had always been Ingrid, excluding those few treasured times where Isabel had tiredly reached out for Mama. She found everything out through Mapi, she wasn’t even on the email list for her school. 

But these documents changed everything. 

For Ingrid, they changed everything. 

For Isabel and Mapi they changed nothing at all. 

Ingrid’s tears were expected, they were justified. But all she needed to do was look up at Isabel for her to run into her arms, almost toppling her over from her seated position on the sofa with the shear force of her body ramming into Ingrid’s, her arms easily wrapping around her. 

The Norwegian reciprocated the hug, her tears saturating the shoulder of Isabel’s shirt. 

“Do you want to be my Mama?”

Ingrid’s sobs became more audible as she tried to respond, words failing her as she nodded. The tears continued, Baloo looking up in confusion as the Norwegian cried, as Mapi did nothing to console her, instead watching on with a wet smile, tears dripping down her face. 

She was grateful to Ingrid because without her, life would be completely different. Without Ingrid, she would likely be a single mother. She and Isabel would live alone, Bagheera there too but Baloo wouldn’t have been an option if there wasn’t another adult there. 

Ingrid was the first time Mapi ever felt true love, the first time she ever felt like she was loved completely and romantically. The Norwegian made her happy, she made Isabel happy too. 

She had changed their lives for the better. 

Mapi would never be able to thank her enough. 

She watched as Ingrid’s cries softened, as she leant back and grabbed Isabel’s shoulders, looking at her straight in the eyes. 

“I would love nothing more, Isabel.”

It wasn’t long before Isabel disappeared, racing up to her room to grab her gift. As she left, Mapi easily retook her spot beside the Norwegian, kissing away the tears that still fell from her eyes. 

“You didn’t have to do this, Maria. I can’t believe it.”

The brunette just shrugged. 

“This is what’s right. You’ve raised her with me, you’re her mother, Ingrid. I didn’t think it was necessary for such a long time but last year at the hospital… it’s important to me that you know it only took me so long because it won’t change anything for me. You have always been her mother, ever since you walked into my life.”

Ingrid nodded, ready to reply before she heard the feet thundering back down the stairs, telling Mapi that they would have this conversation later. 

Shyly, Isabel handed over a neatly folded piece of paper and the photo book, sitting down on the other side of Ingrid as they flipped through it. 

It was how they spent the rest of the night, snuggled up together on the sofa, lots of tears shed as they flipped through the book of photos. 

Isabel fell asleep once they were done, the TV turned on as all three of them were emotionally exhausted, eyes puffy and faces red. Ingrid could only smile, her hand tangling up in Isabel’s head of hair as she slept peacefully on her mother’s lap. 

“My daughter. She’s my daughter, Maria.”

~~~~~~

It was a week of happiness in the Engen-Leon household, the Norwegian radiating positivity as she adjusted to her new role in Isabel’s life. 

Nothing changed, really, except for Ingrid’s security.

It wasn’t even something you could see from the outside, but Mapi knew her well enough to understand how much happier she was, like she had finally been relieved from a weight that she’d been carrying around for so long. It was a relief for all of them. 

The letter that Isabel wrote, however, had been left unread on her bedside table. 

It was in Norwegian, that much she knew. Apparently, the 10 year old had called up Caro to ask for some help with the language, making sure it was perfect before she gave it to her mother. 

It was a bit more than a week later, her and Mapi laying in bed one evening, Isabel fast asleep in her room down the hall. The Spaniard was scrolling through her phone, her spare hand lazily carding through Ingrid’s thick locks. 

The Norwegian was holding that folded piece of paper, staring at it like it held the secrets to the world. 

“Just open it.”

Mapi chuckled as soon as she store what her Norwegian was looking at, the familiar lined paper forever etched into her brain after such a big deal had been made about it. 

“It’s in Norwegian!” Ingrid smiled, looking over at Mapi. “Caro said I should prepare my tissues, Maria!”

“You would have cried if she said ‘I hate you Ingrid I wish you weren’t my Mama’ if it was written in Norwegian.”

Ingrid rolled her eyes at Mapi chuckled at her own joke, her phone dropping into her lap. 

“It won’t say that though. It will probably be heart wrenching because our girl is smart and has a unique way with words.”

Ingrid flopped backwards onto her pillow, sighing dramatically. 

“I’m going to be sobbing, Mapi.”

The Spaniard could only shrug. 

“Probably.”

It took a few more sighs and a couple more minutes for her to open the letter, unfolding the piece of paper at a painfully slow speed, Mapi just rolling her eyes at Ingrid’s dramatics. 

But the brunette’s eyes glazed over as soon as she saw the first line, neat Norwegian printed onto the page. 

Dear Mama. 

And so the waterworks began. 

I haven’t called you Mama my whole life, but I don’t really know why. You’re my Mama, you always have been. When I talk to my friends, I’ll call you Ingrid, but I will always question why, I’ll question why I call you that. 

I know that Mami was the one who had me, that she didn’t mean to have me and was only left with me because the people who I was named after, Isabel and Luis, died. 

She always tells me not to say that she was left with me because it makes it sound like she didn’t want me, which isn’t true. 

But Mami never had the choice, even if she didn’t want me. She was left with me, a baby. I would have been a lot of work. But she loves me and I love her so it worked and I don’t have any memories of being sad. 

I don’t have any memories of that time at all, really. No memories of anything that happened before you came. 

You had the choice, Mama. You didn’t have to choose to be my Mama. You love Mami and she loves you of course, but she had a baby. You didn’t have to take me into your arms and immediately love me as much as you do. 

You could have chosen that you wanted nothing to do with me, you could have chosen to just be Mami’s girlfriend - a step mother who doesn’t really love her step-daughter. 

But you didn’t choose that. You chose to love me and I chose to love you. 

Somehow, it seems so much more special that way. 

You’ve been there for me my whole life. You took me to Norway with you, the first time I left the country without Mami. You would look after me when she was sad, take me to the park and distract me with toys and Baloo. You were the one who convinced Mami to let me on a skateboard and you were the one who realised that I didn’t like football, taking the pressure off me to succeed at the sport you both love. 

You have been to every school awards night, concert, play. You are always there and I always spot you because you always have such a big smile on your face, one that I like to think is reserved just for me and Mami. 

And I love you so much. You make me so happy and you always have. 

I can’t believe how lucky I am that you chose to love me like you do.

Lots of love,

Your daughter Is. 

The tears that had been pouring down her face were hitting her legs as she finished reading, Mapi’s arms pulling her close as she carefully folded the paper back up, putting it in the top drawer of her nightstand. 

“My daughter Is.” She whispered softly and if Mapi wasn’t right in her space, she wouldn’t have been able to hear. 

“Your daughter Is.” She confirmed, using her finger to gently wipe away her tears. “She loves you so much.”

Ingrid could only nod, words once again failing her. 

“We both love you so very much. We are both so grateful for you and everything you do to make our lives so much better.”

“I love you too, Maria.”

~~~~~~

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[kingdom-of-sins]

Charles Leclerc x Girlfriend!Reader

Charles just won the race in Monza and his girlfriend is beyond proud and happy for him

The atmosphere at Monza is electric, the air thick with anticipation and hope. You’re standing in the back of the Ferrari garage, your heart pounding in sync with the roar of the engines, your eyes glued to the screen as the final lap unfolds. Charles is in the lead, and with each corner he expertly navigates, the reality of what’s about to happen sinks in deeper. He’s going to win. He’s really going to win again at Monza.

The grandstands erupt in cheers as Charles crosses the finish line in first place, the Ferrari flag waving proudly in the sea of tifosi. Your breath catches in your throat, tears instantly welling up as you watch him take victory at the home of Ferrari for the second time. It’s not just a win—it’s the culmination of all his hard work, all the late nights, the sacrifices, the endless determination. He did it. He really did it.

As soon as his car comes to a stop in parc fermé, Charles is out in a flash, helmet still on, but you can sense his overwhelming emotions even from a distance. He doesn’t take a moment to bask in the glory or pause for the cameras—his eyes are searching the crowd, looking for you, and the second he finds you, his body moves before his mind can catch up.

You don’t even have time to react before he’s running toward you, the intensity of his emotions palpable. The moment he reaches you, he scoops you up into his arms, spinning you around in sheer joy, his laughter muffled by the helmet but loud and clear in your ears. You cling to him, laughing through your tears, your heart overflowing with pride and love for him.

When he finally sets you down, he doesn’t let go. His gloved hands come up to cup your face, then he pulls back just enough to lift his helmet off, revealing his face flushed with exhilaration, damp with sweat, and eyes shining with unshed tears. He’s breathless, eyes locking onto yours, and for a moment, it’s like the whole world fades away, leaving just the two of you in this perfect moment.

“Charles, you did it!” you exclaim, your voice trembling with emotion.

Before you can say anything else, he leans in and captures your lips in a kiss, fierce and passionate, pouring all his feelings into that single moment. It’s a kiss filled with everything he can’t express in words—the gratitude, the love, the sheer happiness of this victory. You kiss him back just as fervently, your hands threading through his hair, pulling him even closer, needing to feel him, to reassure him that you’re there, that you’re proud, that you love him.

When you finally break apart, both of you are breathless, foreheads resting together as you try to catch your breath. His eyes are still locked onto yours, and the way he’s looking at you—it’s like you’re the only person in the world.

“I couldn’t have done this without you,” he says softly, his voice hoarse from the emotion and the exertion of the race. “Thank you for always believing in me.”

Tears spill over your cheeks, and you can’t help but smile through them. “I’m so proud of you, Charles. So incredibly proud.”

He grins, that beautiful, boyish grin that makes your heart flutter every time. “I love you,” he says, and the words are simple, but they carry the weight of everything he’s feeling.

“I love you too,” you reply, and the words come easily, naturally, as if they were always meant to be spoken in this moment.

The team swarms around Charles, celebrating his victory, but he doesn’t let go of your hand, keeping you close as he’s pulled in every direction by excited teammates and jubilant fans. You watch as he’s hoisted up onto the shoulders of the crew, his laughter filling the air as he waves to the adoring crowd.

And then comes the podium. The ceremony is a blur of cheers and confetti, but as Charles steps up onto the top step, trophy in hand, he looks down at you. His eyes find yours in the crowd, and he smiles—bright, proud, and filled with all the love he feels for you.

You look up at him, your heart swelling with pride and love. This is your Charles, the man you adore, the man who just won the race and an entire nation. And as the Italian anthem plays, with the crowd cheering and the champagne spraying, he never stops smiling down at you.