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unstable-samurai · 5 months ago

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Instructions

Irene x Male Reader

word count: 3.2K

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You drive up to Irene's mansion, where every inch of the lawn looks meticulously manicured, and the fountain at the entrance shoots water in a pattern that can only be described as "obscenely expensive." You still can't believe you were hired to train a woman who doesn't seem to need a single day in the gym, but money is money, right?

You step out of the car and walk to the front door, a massive wooden structure that probably weighs more than your car. Before you have the chance to knock, the door opens as if the house has been eagerly awaiting your arrival. Irene appears, and the first thing you think is that the photos simply don't do her justice.

She's like an upgraded version of a classic diva, someone with a beauty that would be admired in any era of humanity, now enhanced by all the improvements time could offer. Black hair cascading in soft waves, feline eyes that devour you in a fraction of a second, and a posture that makes you wonder if you're standing before a queen or a trap disguised as a woman.

"Oh, I was excited to finally meet my personal trainer," she says.

"Ms. Irene," you reply, offering your hand in a gesture that feels outdated in her presence. Her hand is soft and firm, and the grip is just enough to make you feel that you are, without a doubt, in foreign territory.

"Come on, I'll show you the house," she says, turning quickly without waiting for a response. You follow her, walking through a house that is a maze of marble, stainless steel, and glass. Every piece of art on the walls screams in a flamboyant way, "I have more money than you can imagine," and the faint scent of fresh flowers lingers in the air, as if even the aroma of the house was custom-made.

"This here is the living room," she says, passing through a room larger than your entire apartment, and you pretend not to be impressed. "And over there is the kitchen. You might need something to drink after the workouts. Or during, if I decide to tire you out too much."

She smiles again, and this time you can’t help but smile back, with that kind of irony that only arises when you know you're in trouble.

"This is the bedroom," she says, stopping in front of a closed door. You feel the tension rise a bit, and she notices it. "Not that you’ll need it, but I thought you'd like to know where it is." She opens the door and reveals a room that looks like it came straight out of a decor magazine: an immense bed, silk sheets, and a view of the garden that seems hand-painted.

"Nice place," you say, more out of politeness than anything else.

"Thank you. Now, the gym," she says, as if this was the true purpose of the entire visit. She leads you to a room where all the exercise machines seem to shine with newness. "I need to stay in shape, after all," she says, leaning casually on a treadmill, her posture suggesting that the idea of sweat is something completely alien.

"Shall we begin, then?" you ask, already pulling out the water bottle from your bag, trying to appear professional.

You decide to start the session with the basics, which seems like the best approach when dealing with someone whose idea of physical effort probably consists of reaching for the remote control.

"So, Irene, have you trained before?" you ask, but in your mind, she doesn’t exactly look like the type who frequents a gym.

She smiles, that smile you're already beginning to associate with trouble. "Only if you count marathon shopping trips and half-hour Pilates sessions with my instructor who told me to breathe deeply and think of happy places. Does that count?"

You smile back. "Well, let's start with something simple. A warm-up. Just to prepare the muscles."

"Oh, I love a good warm-up," she replies.

You guide her through some basic stretches, and of course, she starts asking for help. "Can you show me how to do this one? I've always had trouble with it," she says while trying to touch her toes.

You approach, placing your hands on her waist to guide her, trying to ignore the fact that she’s perfumed for a workout. "Like this, push a little further forward... That’s it."

She lets out a soft sigh, almost inaudible, but you notice. "I don't think I've ever had someone help me like this," she says, making you realize that "help" has multiple connotations for her.

"Practice makes perfect," you respond, trying to stay focused.

After the warm-up, you lead her to the weight machines. "Let's start with something simple, like the leg extension machine. This will work your quadriceps."

She looks at the machine as if it were some kind of medieval torture device. "Quadriceps... Right. And this does what exactly? Makes me gain muscles?"

"Exactly. You sit here, adjust the weight, and lift your legs to extend the knee. It’s great for toning the thighs."

She sits down, but instead of following your instructions, she just pretends to be confused. "I don't think I'm getting it. Can you show me again?"

You lean in to help her adjust the position of her legs, and you feel her gaze fixed on you. "Like this? Is it good now?" she asks, her voice softer than it should be for a simple exercise instruction.

"Yes, it's perfect," you reply.

"So, have you been training for a long time?" she asks as you guide her through the exercise. "It’s noticeable, you know... by your physique, the way you explain…"

"I’ve been training for a few years. It’s a passion of mine."

"Passion? Interesting," she says. "And are you single? Or is there someone waiting for you at home after you spend the day helping women like me stay in shape?"

You hesitate, realizing that the conversation is veering off course.

"I'm single. I guess my work takes up most of my time. What about you? You told me your husband is always traveling, right?"

"He's away most of the time, yes. His work is... demanding. But luckily, I know how to take care of myself," she says, lifting her legs on the machine with a little more enthusiasm. When Irene was done, she paused to drink water, then walked between the machines until she chose the next one. “Hey, help me here. I don't want to mess up the movement, I need your guidance." She says, standing in front of the lat pulldown machine.

"Oh, great. This one’s for your back and shoulders," you explain, adjusting the weight. "You hold here, pull the bar down, and then release slowly, feeling the resistance."

She looks at the machine as if it were an abstract art piece.

"Looks complicated. Show me how it's done?"

You demonstrate the movement, feeling her eyes on every motion of your body. When you finish, she positions herself, but instead of pulling the bar, she holds it for a second, looking at you with a false expression of confusion. "I think I’m not doing it right. Can you guide me?"

You approach again, this time placing your hands on her arms, helping her execute the movement. "Like this," you say, your voice a little lower. "Pull with your back muscles, not just your arms."

"Since you’ve been working out for a long time, you must be very strong," she comments as she pulls the bar, her muscles tensing softly under your hands. "And you must be used to lifting heavy, right?"

"It depends on the workout," you respond, trying to ignore the fact that every word she says seems to have a double meaning. "But it’s always good to vary, to do a bit of everything."

"So, how many of these should I do?" she asks, as if she’s genuinely interested in the answer, but her eyes say something else.

"Let's do three sets of twelve reps," you reply, trying to keep a professional tone. She does the first set with you close by, watching every movement, and then asks for your help with the next machine.

The dynamic continues until, by the end of the workout, she’s sweating, but in a way that looks more like a healthy glow than discomfort. She stretches, her muscles relaxing, and looks at you with that same smile that started everything. "I think you made me work pretty hard today. Maybe I’ll need a massage afterward," she says, her tone provocative.

You smile, unsure whether to take her seriously or laugh. "Massages aren’t part of the package, but we can talk about a relaxation stretch."

"We’ll see," she says, stepping closer with that smile that always precedes trouble, the kind you should have learned to avoid. “It seems like I’m the only one sweating here,” she says, with a sweetness that’s pure venom, before leaning in and, without warning, licking your cheek.

You take a step back, your heart pounding in your chest. "Ms. Irene, what is this?!"

"I told you, you’re not very sweaty. And I licked you to prove it," she responds with the casualness of someone asking the time.

"But what the hell does that mean? I came here to work—"

"And you’ll get paid at the end, of course!" she interrupts, her smile widening in a way that only makes things worse. “I just want… to have a little fun with you. Include that in the deal. You could earn a bonus for it, if you’d like.”

She takes another step forward.

“Irene, you’re married. Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not a good idea.”

“No one needs to know, sweetheart,” she whispers, as if it were a secret you truly wanted to hear. “You’re too young to be so worried about life.”

You try to speak, but the words come out jumbled, as if your mouth forgot how to work.

“I-I… This isn’t right.”

She laughs, a sound that makes you feel like a mischievous boy caught in the act. “I bet I’ll make you change your mind once you see what you’re missing.” With a quick, decisive movement, she removes her top, revealing small, pale, perfect, and provocative breasts. Her smile widens, and you feel your face flush with heat. Worse than that—you feel your cock pulse in your pants.

“What do you think?” she asks, each word dripping with irony and certainty.

“Cover yourself, please!” Your voice comes out louder than you intended, but the plea is almost pathetic.

“Oh, don’t play the saint with me,” she retorts, suddenly stepping closer, grabbing your hand with firm resolve and placing it on her breast. The touch is warm and soft. You swallow hard, but it feels like the lump in your throat is stuck there for good. And the worst part? You can’t pull your hand away.

“What do you think? My boobs are small, but they fit perfectly in your mouth,” she teases, her voice lower, more intense.

“This isn’t right, Ms. Irene…” you try, but your resistance is fragile.

“Shh! Just call me Irene,” she orders, and before you can protest again, she seals any chance of escape with a kiss—warm and commanding, as if she already knew you wouldn’t say no.

Before you could even process what was happening, Irene had already wrapped her hand around your cock. With force. With a desire that you felt reverberate down your spine. “You’re so hard for me,” she whispers, her lips pulling away from yours, but the heat of her proximity still clinging to your skin.

“Irene…” you murmur, the name escaping as a whisper, almost a plea, but for what? For her to stop or to keep going?

“That’s right,” she continues, giving you no room to regain control. “I want to hear you moan my name while you fuck me good.”

Before you could refuse—or worse, agree—she pulls you toward a weight bench like she’s practiced the move a thousand times. It’s astonishing how a woman so small, so delicate, can exert such absolute control over you. You feel like a toy in her hands, powerless to resist.

You take off your shirt while she kneels to untie your shoes, making sure every detail is perfect, that you’re comfortable—but not for you, for her. When she asks you to take off the rest, you comply without question, feeling the cool air caress your exposed skin. She compliments your physique, her words sliding over your skin like hot oil. Her hands roam over your muscles, her fingers tracing the contours of your biceps.

“You’re so hot,” she murmurs, kissing your chest, her lips warm and soft. The excitement builds within you, uncontrollable, wild.

You sit back down on the bench, Irene kneels between your legs, her smile a mix of wickedness and pure desire. She takes your cock with a confidence that makes you hold your breath, her touch firm, almost possessive. “Wow… you’re much bigger and thicker than my husband,” she murmurs, licking the tip, teasing, while her eyes remain fixed on yours. “I’ve always wondered what it would feel like to have something like this… I’m going to love gagging on this cock.”

She slowly opens her mouth, her lips stretching around the head of your cock, and the sensation is mind-blowing. You watch, mesmerized, as she starts to take you in, inch by inch, until her mouth is completely full. “Oh, yes,” she mumbles with difficulty, her words muffled as she struggles to accommodate your size.

She begins to move her head up and down, faster and faster, the wet, warm sound of her mouth creating a steady rhythm. Her small mouth adjusts to your cock, fighting the instinct to pull away, but instead, she pushes forward, making it clear she wants more.

The sight of her, drowning on your cock, is almost unbearably arousing. You can’t resist, your hands go to her hair, pulling to gain more control. With a decisive move, you push deeper into her throat, and the muffled moan she lets out is a mix of pleasure and challenge. “Just like that,” she moans, tears welling in her eyes from pleasure and effort, but with no intention of stopping. She wants this as much as you do.

You feel her throat tightening around your cock, each movement sending waves of pleasure through you as she takes you as deep as she can, not giving up even when her air becomes scarce. The mix of pain and pleasure on her face only fuels your desire further, and you continue, deeper and deeper, until she finally has to stop to breathe, gasping, but with a satisfied, lascivious smile on her face.

Irene stands up, her gaze burning with a desire that mirrors your own. She starts to take off her leggings, revealing she’s not wearing any panties. The sight of her like this, naked and ready, is enough to take your breath away.

Without a second thought, you grab her firmly, your hands holding her slim waist as you lift her off the ground with an ease you didn’t even know you had. Irene lets out a low, sensual moan as she wraps her legs around you, locking her ankles behind your back, pulling the two of you even closer. With a decisive movement, you press her against the nearest wall, the cold concrete contrasting with the growing heat between you.

“Ohhh, yes,” she moans as you penetrate her for the first time, her head falling back, hitting the wall, but she doesn’t seem to care. “You’re so thick!”

With each thrust, Irene responds with louder, more desperate moans. “Just like that, baby… more, please, more!” Her voice is a mix of command and plea, her nails digging into your shoulders, pulling you closer, as if she wants to merge with you.

“That’s it! Oh, God! You fuck me better than my husband!”

That somehow spurs you on, every movement becoming deeper, stronger, as if you’re trying to shove every inch of yourself into her. Irene bites her lip, her face in pure pleasure, and then she starts babbling, as if facial expressions weren’t enough to describe what she’s feeling. “Yes… fuck me… fuck me hard… do what my husband never could…”

But she’s not the only one on the edge. The heat of her body, the almost painful tightness around your cock, every moan and sigh, it all makes you want more, makes you lose control.

After what feels like both an eternity and an instant, you feel like you need more. With a quick move, you pull away from the wall and carry her to the bench. Irene drops to the floor, turns around, positioning herself on all fours while you sit down. She positions herself, slowly lowering onto your cock, moaning as she feels you stretch inside her, filling every inch.

She leans back against you, her head resting on your shoulder, her body sinking even further into your lap. Your hands immediately move to her small breasts, squeezing them, while your lips find her delicate neck, biting and sucking the soft skin. Irene lets out a loud moan, the sound of pure satisfaction, and arches her body, pushing herself even deeper.

“Yes… leave a mark… mark that you were here… that you fucked me like no one ever has,” she pleads, her words breathless, interrupted by moans that only grow louder as you squeeze and thrust into her.

You don’t hesitate, biting harder, leaving a visible mark on her neck, a testament to what’s happening. Irene shudders in response, her pussy tightening even more around you, each of her movements sending waves of pleasure through you, making you forget any shred of morality. She moves against you, her rhythm frantic, the need for more, always more, evident in every gesture.

“Yes… yes, baby… fuck me until I can’t take it anymore,” she moans, her hands reaching back, grabbing your neck, pulling you closer as she continues to move, to lose herself in the sensation.

Irene, breathless, leans in closer, and with a soft voice, almost a whisper, says in your ear, “I want you to fuck my tight ass.”

Her words are like a match striking the box, igniting something fierce within you. Irene rises off your lap and walks to a corner of the gym, where she grabs a bottle of lube. She returns with a mischievous smile, shaking the bottle in the air. “I brought this just for this moment,” she says.

“You had this in mind from the start, didn’t you?” you ask, already knowing the answer.

Irene doesn’t bother replying. Instead, she kisses you before lying down on the padded floor, her pale skin contrasting with the dark material, her body exposed in a posture of pure submission, but with the confidence of someone who knows exactly what they want. “Come here, you naughty boy,” she calls, her voice like poisoned honey.

You kneel beside her, your hands trembling with desire as you reach for the lube. Irene smiles at you, then gets on all fours and arches her back. With steady movements, you pour the gel into your palm and begin applying it to her ass, feeling the warm, soft skin under your fingers. Irene lets out a low sigh, closing her eyes, savoring the sensation. "That's it... get me ready, I want to feel every inch of your thick cock inside me."

You don’t waste any time. With one hand, you spread the lube around and inside her ass, your fingers gently penetrating to prepare her. Irene bites her lip, her body slightly writhing, a mix of pleasure and anticipation. "Feels good, keep going... make me ready for you."

When you feel she’s sufficiently lubed, you apply the rest to your cock, rubbing it until it’s fully coated, hard and throbbing.

Irene changes position, lying on her back on the floor. You position yourself between her raised legs, and she looks at you with eyes full of desire. "Come on, don't wait any longer," she begs, her voice low and sweet. You press the tip of your cock against her tight entrance, pushing slowly, feeling the initial resistance. Irene lets out a moan of pain mixed with pleasure, and you keep going, advancing inch by inch, feeling the heat and pressure around you.

"Ahhh… yes," Irene moans, her eyes closed, her hands gripping the padding beneath her as you penetrate her slowly. "It's so big… so tight…"

You keep pushing, feeling her ass open up, millimeter by millimeter, her body adjusting to your size. The heat, the pressure, the sensation of filling her completely is indescribable, and the low moan she lets out only fuels your desire. "Yes, yes, yes! Fuck me deeper," she pleads.

You obey, pushing deeper until you're finally all the way inside her. Irene lets out a muffled moan, a sound of pure satisfaction, her body arching with pleasure. "Yes… like that… don’t stop," she begs, her eyes shining with wild desire. You start to move, slowly at first, savoring every second, every contortion of her body, every moan that escapes her lips.

As you gain rhythm, Irene’s moans grow louder, more desperate. "Yes… fuck my ass… do what I never let my husband do… ahhh… harder… please," she moans, every word an encouragement for you to go deeper, to push both of you to the limit.

And you do, increasing your speed and force, your hands gripping her thighs firmly, guiding each thrust with precision, feeling her body tremble with pleasure until it all comes down to heat, sweat, the pure desire consuming you both.

Irene then begins to tremble, her body stiff with imminent pleasure. She looks at you, her eyes burning with lust and urgency. "Mmm, I’m about to cum, babe… Let’s cum together?" she asks, her voice broken by moans.

You feel her body pulsing around you, each contraction almost pushing you over the edge.

"Do you want to come inside my pussy? Fill it with your cum?"

The desire and madness of the moment take over you. “Can I?” you ask, your voice tense, almost disbelieving.

“Of course you can,” she replies with a wicked smile, "I'm on the pill, darling. I want to feel you unload everything inside me."

With that, you both move into the classic missionary position. Irene spreads her legs and bends them, her feet planted on the floor, while you kneel between her thighs, your cock positioned exactly where she wants it. Irene wraps her legs around your waist, pulling you closer. The warmth and tightness of her pussy confirm your decision: you need to cum inside her.

You start thrusting into her, each stroke deeper and faster than the last. Irene moans loudly, the sound of her moans echoing through the gym. “Ahhh, yes… more… harder…” she screams, her eyes closed in pure ecstasy. “Fuck my pussy… Make me your cum dump.”

You’re on the verge of exploding, your entire body tense with the anticipation of climax. Irene feels it and, between moans, murmurs, “I’m almost there… I’m going to cum…”

“Me too… I’m almost there…” you reply, your breathing fast.

She opens her eyes, her gaze burning with intensity. “Have you ever cum inside a stranger before, huh? Ever filled a married woman with cum, you pervert?” She asks, her words hitting you like a wave of heat.

Those words make you lose control. With one last, powerful thrust, you bury yourself deep inside her, feeling your cum release into the depths of Irene’s pussy. She screams as she cums at the same time, her body writhing beneath you, her legs tightening around your waist.

“Ahhh… I can feel it all… it’s so warm… so good…” Irene moans, her words loaded with pure pleasure, her breathing ragged as she feels every hot stream filling her. You keep moving, even as the orgasm leaves you breathless, prolonging the pleasure for both of you.

When you finally pull away, your cock slipping out, cum begins to slowly drip from her pussy.

Irene smiles, a satisfied and wicked smile, as she looks at you, her breathing still uneven. "That was… exactly what I wanted," she says, her eyes gleaming with contentment, as the cum drips between her thighs, and you watch, fascinated, as she uses her fingers to spread her lips, letting the cum flow freely. She collects some of the semen with a finger and brings it to her mouth, tasting the result of your mix.

Irene kneels beside you and leans in for a deep kiss, her lips warm and moist against yours, while her hands glide over your body, caressing you with a certain tenderness.

“So, handsome, what did you think of the workout?” she asks.

You, still with your body pulsing with residual pleasure, respond with a smile, “I loved it. It was… incredible.”

Irene smiles back. “Good to hear that,” she says, with a note of amusement, “you can consider yourself my official personal trainer now. And the best part, you’re still getting paid for it. Isn’t it the best job in the world?”

You laugh, a mix of incredulity and amusement, realizing that your concept of ‘job’ will never be the same. “So that’s it? Daily sex with a gorgeous woman and I’m going to get paid for it? What are the downsides?”

“There aren’t any. As long as my husband never finds out, of course. But that’s my problem. Your only requirement and concern is to keep me satisfied.”

With that, she gets up nonchalantly, and starts gathering the clothes scattered on the floor.

You also get up, and as you’re dressing, you can’t help but think about the absurdity of the job you’re accepting.

When you’re almost ready to leave, Irene approaches, casually adjusting her hair.

“Don’t forget, tomorrow is training day again,” she says, her voice full of light arrogance. “Same time. Don’t be late. I want more of that… energy,” she adds with a smile.

You nod, laughing to yourself as you try to regain some of your composure.

“Sure, I’ll mark it on the calendar.”

#kpop smut #male reader #male reader smut #smut male reader #x male reader #x male smut #smut #gg smut #irene smut #irene red velvet #red velvet irene #red velvet smut #m!reader #smut oneshot #irene x reader

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ireallyneedaintrestinglife · 5 months ago

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Merlins magic doing what it can to make Arthur's life easier and provide comfort in any way it can.

Merlins magic making Arthur's bed softer and warmer in the winter.

Merlins magic making the candles burn brighter and last longer when his king needs to pass laws and work on documents.

Merlins magic making Arthurs clothes retain their color longer and tear less easily.

Merlins magic making his armor be stronger and more durable, unconsciously weaving protection spells into the metal.

Merlins magic making sure the sun doesn't get in his kings eyes and distract him when he's fighting enemies that wish to end his life.

Merlins magic making his Kings wine taste better and food last longer keeping it warm while he does other things.

Merlins magic making it harder for his king to be killed, turning the path to his kings chambers into a maze-like structure that makes it impossible for the assassin to get to his chamber or delay them long enough for someone to stop them.

Merlins magic.

#i just needed get that out #fic ideas #merlin #merthur #bbc merlin #arthur pendragon #merlin bbc #merlin emrys #arthur #king arthur #merlin x arthur #merlin fanfic #merthur fanfic

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godofthestupid · 2 years ago

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shopping malls are like entering a level with poison gas and you have to quickly do the mission lest you die

#I had to shop some things and could only find them in one of the shopping malls #my eyes always start to become unberably dry #the music is too loud #there were a lot more people there than usual too #random noises everywhere #people in your way or talking loudly #the maze like structure of it #i had to work in a shopping mall for two weeks once and it left me scarred #i literally got so tired from it i had to take a nap and that didn't help much either #but everyone else at work was like #it's really fun here! i love it!#and i wanted to sit in a corner and cry

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emry-stars · 8 months ago

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Uh oh @justthislazy peep that enemy list. Square up

I remember this!! What a fun little quiz, I love it every time! Anyway if you want to: @greenautumnleaves @sig66 @hellomynameismoo @alittlefellawithbigoleyes @neilimfinejosten @halfpintpeach

stealing this fun personality test from @cloudofbutterflies92 ❤️

lol so fitting

[ Link ]

No pressure tagging: @esolean @localravenclaw @nadilu @chewbokachoi @johnlocsin-johnyakuza @bihanspookies @shanaraharlyah @l3vi4than @its-lolyolo @joliackermann @kyuoki and everyone who wants to do this (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

#tag game #quiz #superpower quiz #i like that its structured the way wizard maze was lol #long post

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azzayofchaos · 8 months ago

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Since my other Nether worldbuilding post was received pretty well... I'm back on my bullshit!

This time featuring zoning and biomes of the Neath: Lore below cut

Nether (noun): the formidable hellscape straddling the boundery between the Fragments of the Overworld and Death's Realms.

Derived from Beneath -> Neath -> Neth -> Nether.

The Nether is most easily accessable through outer regions of the nether, regions that are comparatively closed-off, and lacking in biodiversity compared to the Deep Nether where most Neath civilizations are centered.

The Neth is divided into three primary zones, distinguished by altitude and general climates.

The Calfactory Zone: the largest and most iconic of the three, the Calfactory zone is blisteringly hot and bone-dry, it's most prominent features are its abundant seas and lakes of magma, and the massive Supermagmas atriums that are common above the magma. In the largest of these atriums, the ceiling may be so high above as to be completely invisible from the ground, obscured by an ever present smog of toxic vapor and minerals formed in the self-generated micro-climates that are generated from the rising heat of the lava that begins to cool at a higher altitude.

In the Basalt Deltas and other biomes around the edges of these lakes, massive pillars of rock and crystals bulwark the more-visible ceiling.

The most common of this zone’s biomes is the Crimson woods, home to hearty thermal-philic fungi and plants that grow on the minerals and vapors of the lakes. Many are carnivorous in their lack of access to water or sunlight, and these forests contain many sub-biomes and ecosystems of flourishing life.

The Wastes are perhaps the most desolate regions of the Neath, irradiated deserts of red-rock, brimstone, and sharp sand. Even the vast majority of nether-folk avoid these deserts due to the leftover radiation that rots and destroys anything that waits too long. The only forms of life are particularly robust lichens and bacteria that are happy to sit by the boiling pools of sulfur and mud and toxic sludge that dot the landscape. Growing within the rocks themselves are colonies of amorphous fungus, called geocorpus molds, they get their spores into cracks in the soft netherack and slowly feed on it; the ‘rock meat’ is considered a delicacy in nether cuisine.

The Temperate Zone: Cradled in the heights of the Neath’s atriums and sat below the roof is the temperate zones; the rising heat of the zone below begins to cool and by doing so, distinct weather patterns form within this zone, leaving it, while still sweltering, a cooler though much more humid climate.

The main biome are the luminescent warped-fungal rainforests that collect the high-rising minerals and odd moisture from the lakes. Liquid is actually present here, though, if it’s not safely filtered through the innards of the various plants and fungi, this water is usually aggressively corrosive, and it is best to shelter from the acidic precipitation to avoid chemical burns. The nether folk and ender local to these rainforests are suited to deal with these conditions and the ender especially do not have trouble with the extreme pH of the water here like they would in the overworld. The zone is lit almost exclusively by the biolumincense of the organisms there and have often been described as false-stars.

In the Deep Nether, the ceiling may give way, allowing one to pass onto the plateaus of the Nether Roof and the yawning void above. The bedrock of the nether roof is jagged and layered in huge slabs, sometimes broken up my mazes of pillar-like structures and shallow, thermal pools of crystal-clear liquid. The kind you don't want to touch of course. fogs may hang low to the ground, but when its clear, or above the fog, the entire universe seems to spill out into the sky. The nether roof was culturally significant and a source of much knowledge and inspiration in the early days, but I'll get more into that in a later post 0.0

The Rime Zone: Plunge deep enough and one might find themselves bellow the lava beds. Here, where the heat can't quite penetrate, the temperatures will drop rapidly to sub-zero.

Namely, the Rime Zone is made up of the soul valleys, flat steppes of cinder and clotted sand, you can imagine it almost with the blindness effect, a fog that pools by your feet, and a heavier darkness hanging from the sky, it feels massive and endless and claustrophobic all at once. Frost collects as crystals on the irradiated, soul-soaked barrens, and the bones of the massive nether wyrms lie fossilized, breaking up the landscape. The sands are also split with patches of crazing on the ground and vents of blue fire that spills out and sets the sand ablaze.

These same wryms can be found sometimes, ancient things that dig through sand and soft rocks and the magma lakes, far and few between and treated with both fear and reverence.

And in the deepest pits of the Neath are the glowing frozen lakes that are colloquially and rightfully called the Gates to Death, glowing blue from beneath their surfaces. Indeed, any further down and you pass into limbo, the edge of Death's Realms.

Extra Notes??:

Soul sand/soil is tread on carefully or not at all, is one form of remnants from the apocolyspe. Like the general radiated rubble present through the Nether, it's a fault of nuclear fallout. Unlike other areas of radiation, its also been infused with the souls of those who didn't survive the joining of worlds. That said, unlike soul sand, soul soil is used productively to grow certain nether crops. It’s minerally and magically dense.

This infused quality is also precent in Nether Debris, resulting in a material that takes magic particularly well.

Iron cannot be found in dense veins and crystals like gold or quartz in the nether, but it's a pretty rich mineral a lot of netherack, giving it its ruddy coloring.

Sorry for this massive rant that no one asked for. If you have questions please feel free to send an ask, I may not have an answer yet but I'll certainly come up with one if I can.

I'm also hoping to do a pass on my headcanons about history and culture in the Nether and then we might start talking about character headcanons since this is also an actual AU.

If you read this far, here's some notes on striders and ghast

#minecraft #minecraft worldbuilding #Minecraft lore #speculative worldbuilding #minecraft nether #the nether #dreamingverse au #my art

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nipuni · 2 months ago

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Alright, time to share my opinions about Veilguard!! I have both criticism and praise so bear with me as I jump from one extreme to the other 😆 spoilers ahead of course!

The game has a very rough start with the dialogue being formulaic and rushed and the characters overexposing. It feels like a heavy handed attempt at summarizing all of previous games' lore for newcomers or in case you forgot but it's so overdone it feels coddling and trivializes a lot of previous events. Luckily this gets better once all of the introductions are out of the way, though the excessive hints and clarifications continue until the end sadly.

The locations are absolutely incredible and very diverse!! This is a highlight of the game for me. There is so much detail and care in every map and there are so many of them. My pc is struggling to reach medium settings and yet everything looks stunning. The verticality of the maps is so imposing and the graphics have a very dreamy quality that I love. I also enjoy the maze-like structure to the maps, it's more linear but makes everything look a bit more intentional. The color and light direction was amazing, all the visual development really!! it has to be one of the prettiest games I've ever played.

When I started I have to admit it did not feel like I was in Thedas and it all felt a bit theme-parky, if that makes sense. A lot of previously important and established world elements that made Thedas what it is were overlooked or made irrelevant. But the more I played the more it started to feel a bit more similar to Inquisition, for better or worse depending on what you feel about Inquisition. But!! this also feels like a selectively sanitized version of Thedas compared to previous games. In it's attempt to stay safe and uncontroversial in some aspects it loses a lot of substance and it changes the tone. The surface level politics, ignoring previously established major societal issues and a tell-don't-show approach makes the world seem more simple and shallow with no grey areas to explore. ( the humor also falls flat and out of place often too, and WHY is everyone always smirking, enough!! godlike beings are destroying the planet please this is not the time for Marvel banter aaaa )

The pacing at the start is a bit of a mess. It is so fast it felt like jumping from one world shattering discovery to the next with no time to process. The characters also seem to underreact to important information and major developments. It felt like the game was rushing me through all this to get to the part of the story it wanted to tell me while I was still wrapped in my shock blanket trying to catch my breath lmao. I really like all the key story points they touched upon, I just wish they dwelled more on them to give them more narrative weight. ( though blaming every bad thing to ever happen on the Elves was certainly..a choice )

I think the writing could have used more subtlety in the first half and more boldness in the second 😆 but I loved the thematic parallels between Rook and Solas and how every quest informs the main storyline. I do wish Rook was given more impossible choices and put in more difficult situations that forced them to lie or betray their own to better drive the point home though ( listen I just love a Trolley problem!! we need more of those, I'm the Trolley problem's number one fan!! ) I feel like they missed the chance to put Rook in Solas' role and be as vilified and hated for it as Solas was despite their best intentions which would make Rook's regrets stronger and in turn make their escape from the fade all the more impressive and give them a better understanding of Solas to either use against him or earn his respect. The line 'they called me the Dread Wolf, what will they call you when this is over' from the trailers was so good I was waiting for this!! But everyone just loves Rook no matter what!!

But I feel like I stated too many negative aspects in a row so moving on to some things I enjoyed!

The characters were very lovable to me. The romances weren't as long or impactful as I would have liked but I enjoyed all the companion quests. Emmrich is a delight and his quest is so wild and fun. I loved learning about Nevarra and I was awestruck by the Grand Necropolis. The mourn watch was so interesting, it showed a whole new side of Thedas' lore I knew nothing about! and I loved Manfred! Davrin is so charming, he became a favorite. I loved his quest too and learning more bits and pieces about the Dalish was great, I wish we got more. Seeing the Wardens through his quest also made me enjoy them a lot. Assan was very cute too and I'm glad he was treated as an animal and not turned into a goofy Disney sidekick too much lmao 😭 Lucanis is hilarious. The fantasy Spain/Italy was a bit silly and off at times but he is very sweet! and I love the Spite possession, that was so fun I'm glad they kept him that way! Bellara is adorable, her first backstory quest made me cry and I just love a nerd! I wish the second part of her story was written better however, and she sort of devolves into 'it's hard, I wish it was easy but it's hard' dialogues too often sadly. Anaris and the Forgotten Ones' portrayal was underwhelming and anticlimactic which was disappointing. Harding is also very cute and her Titan plotline was the most interesting to me, I bawled my eyes out in her quest!! I love the dwarven lore of this universe I'm so happy we got more of it!! ( she also fucking died in my playthrough?! I was devastated what the hell 😭 'whatever it takes' WEUEUGHHHG I'M SO SORRY) Neve was a slow burn for me because of my choices in game slowing that relationship down ( saving Treviso I mean, perdón amor 🙏 ) but I love detective novels and she is such a badass I ended up loving her. Taash was unexpected, I didn't think they would be so young. The coming of age story was sweet, though I found myself cringing a lot too at the handling of it I have to admit ( and the Lords of Fortune in general, and the Antaam...and que Qun..listen- kajshfgf ) but I also enjoyed learning more about the first expedition and the Qunari in general despite the messy writing and choices. I also loved Antoine and Evka! and Strife! And I haven't even read any of the novels they are in 😆 also Mila!!!! and her dad oh my god and Felassan haunting the narrative!! speaking of haunting, I would have loved for Cole to be in the lighthouse too I think it would have worked well 🤔 especially with the whole 'reading Solas' secret diary' thing the game had going on lmao

Everyone seems to get along except for a bit of friction that is quickly resolved at the start, which is hmm missed potential? I would have preferred more tension personally. I enjoy the drama! gives me more to work with and gives you a better grasp on everyone's personality by contrasting values. I think they wanted to speed run a found family trope for the new hero to establish some emotional stakes early on but it ended up making everyone seem like a group therapy session instead. The group meetings also have everyone either state the obvious or repeat the same opinion or conclusion to each other, I would have loved these meetings to have more bickering, have people get mad and storm out and also get to listen to different takes on a situation. Make Rook struggle more to take the reins and keep the team functional, learning how to be a leader.

Speaking of Rook! ( who in my case has a northern British accent that I loved so much 🥺) They seem to have a very established personality. I was expecting more of a blank slate but I'm lucky that the personality they went for kind of matches what I would normally choose in a first playthrough. Though the lack of range in the choices is irritating and takes away some replayability and role playing potential. Rook is very supportive and selfless, I wasn't expecting this tbh! But it all made my Rook turn into the team's weird supportive necromancer mom so it worked out in the end I guess lmao. I can't wait to draw her!!

I was so overwhelmed by the amount of information we got about Solas and his past!! I was expecting answers but not these many and not for them to be such an integral part of the plot!! The game feels like it's about him more than anything else. His arc is the best written out of all. He is mentioned in every conversation, he's the main advisor and the narrative foil, you get to talk to him often, you work for him and with him and go into his memories it all feels so surreal to me lmao I love him so I'm delighted ngl! but also making the other Evanuris so cartoonishly evil makes Solas into such an obvious choice of an ally, god of trickery or not, that it sort of takes the decision out of your hands and makes some dialogue options and companions' opinions seem almost nonsensical. I have no idea how this game would feel to someone who absolutely hates Solas' guts honestly. I suppose I will find out soon enough 😆

About Solas' story, I loved it! I somehow also feel that I knew it already, all the speculation and theories that Solavellan fans were crafting for years were so accurate that it was all very validating. Even the wildest ones! Solas as the Maker, the elves spirit origin, Mythal giving him a body, the war with the Titans, the origin of the Blight, Solas being on your side as advisor, I can go on, we knew!! Also I have to mention this I'm sorry but they made him look so hot!! unbelievable. And the bloodied teary eyed pathetic look in the end ouurghhh I'm cheering and clapping!!

The romance conclusion was so lovely 😭 the Loki and Sigyn ending we deserved to such a mythological epic!! and open ended enough for all of us to cook!! and we got to see him fight and transform into the Dread Wolf!! and whimper and cry!! and bleed and love!! that's all I ever wanted, incredible we were really spoiled what the hell I still can't believe it 😭 GDL acting was brilliant as usual! the visuals were also incredible and exactly what I had in mind when I imagined where the story may go, the eclipse, the giant wolf, the glowing eyes, the Elvhenan ruins, the statues, even the hair lmao it all aligned exactly to what I've been painting all these years but better I was thrilled 😭

Solas backstory with Mythal also offers players that didn't romance him a chance to see him act out of love and show a side they wouldn't be able to reach otherwise and I think it was smart! also very tragic and sheds more light into all of his choices and words and his relationship with Lavellan too and the parallels and reversals and uughh thoroughly enjoying the emotional distress 👌

Pleasing both the Solas lovers and haters at the same time was always going to be hard with him being such a polarizing character by design and the world states being so different but I think they did a good job! at least from my side of things.

I think my favorite part besides the Solas related stuff was the Blight. I loved how horrific and gross and threatening it was! I've always loved the concept of the Blights and I'm glad it was such a huge part of the story in this game. I also loved Treviso!! has to be the most beautiful city in Thedas ahhh and the Necropolis!! the gardens!! Vorgoth!!! Kal-Sharok!!! I can't believe we got to see it!! and a Titan!!! the giant floating face of Ghilan'nain in the clouds??? and the huge archdemons and dragons!! oh and that warden dragon trap in the shape of a griffon?? and the giant blight tendrils!! the siege at Weisshaupt was outstanding!! and the floating panopticon castle situation in Minrathous uughh there is so much I loved.

OH I also enjoyed the Varric arc even though I saw it coming since the trailer it was still played well and it was touching 🥺

The ending felt a bit jarring to me in tone though, a bit too cheerful considering...the horrors. Over half the continent destroyed and most of the problems Thedas had before the game are still there. Veil in place and all 😆

But I had fun!! I'm nitpicking really, the conclusion to Solas' story feels very satisfying to me which was my main worry so I'm happy. It is a good game!! with a sort of soft reboot feel to it and aimed at a younger audience which is probably what they were going for? You can sort of feel the struggle the team went through during production in the way the target audience seems unclear sadly. I also can't help feeling like this is an ending, so much was revealed and resolved!! but maybe I feel that way because that is what I felt after Shadowbringers / Endwalker in FFXIV once my favorite part of the story was wrapped? They can always pivot to a new continent and expand on the world and cultures we know almost nothing about, but that is always harder to sell so I have no clue where they will go from here 😵‍💫

Anyway I'm still processing a lot of stuff that I will probably talk (and draw) about later, this is already long enough!! for now I'll look up how to get the artbook because the art direction of this game is fantastic!! I would love to hear your thoughts too really, I'm curious about the experiences of players who made different choices and with different tastes to mine!!

#dragon age #veilguard #dragon age the veilguard #dragon age spoilers #veilguard spoilers #da4 spoilers #datv #nips blogs #I don't know what else to tag this there are so many variants #this critique is about the story and writing mostly not the technical aspects btw!#I'm aware some of these changes are unrealistic in terms of cost and time #this is a review not a rant or demand really! or it's trying to be #I enjoyed the game and will be replaying it eventually and modding the hell out of it 😌

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zkg2318 · 3 months ago

Text

No Wings No Horns

(important warnings) genre/tags ✶ Heeseung x afab!reader x Jake, plot heavy, angst, smut, some fluff, love triangle trope, thriller/dark, fantasy, themes of murder, themes of violence, themes of reincarnation, angel/devil themed, yandere character, major character death, mentions of suicide, cursing, mentions of hell/heaven, use of y/n, morally gray characters, very brief mention of foster homes, alcohol, very brief descriptions of physical abuse, blood, sleep deprivation, mention of pills, nightmares, etc... like super morally gray characters

smut warnings ✶ ass slapping, unprotected sex, creampie, nicknames (slut, angel, baby), light dubcon (heeseung), fingering, etc…

synopsis ✶ Growing up with your best friend, Jake, you thought you knew him inside and out- until you meet Heeseung on your first day of college. With his dark allure and unyielding devotion towards you, he leaves you questioning who Jake really is. Unbeknownst to you, Jake and Heeseung, who were once best friends in a realm beyond mortal understanding, share a secret so powerful it could shatter everything you thought you knew about them. But after a single, fateful mistake cost them their life full of radiance and purity, they’re now bound to earth under a haunted curse with a fate that can only be ended by one, unforgivable act.

WC ✶ 20.4

Taglist: @wilonevys, @katarinamae, @punchbug9-blog, @riribelle

A/N if you read the teaser, plz reread the beginning as i made significant changes for the plot :)

The realm of Heaven was unlike any other, a breathtaking expanse of greenery where radiant light cascaded over the land, creating a soft golden glow. Rolling hills were stretched as far as the eye could see, adorned with a spread of flowers that bloomed even in the winter. Along the dips in the hills were clear-blue streams that weaved through the landscape like a maze, the trickle of their stream like a peaceful soundtrack to the quiet tranquility of Heaven, or what the Guardian Angels liked to call: Celesta.

Spread throughout the city of Celesta was a variety of skyscrapers that rose into the sky, constructed out of material that seemed to glisten in the sunlight. Each building was intricately carved with a glowing inscription, burning with the prophecy of a fallen angel. Amongst them were structures like the Counsel of Angels, the Angel Hub, and the Headquarters.

In the Counsel of Angels building, decisions regarding Guardian Angels and mortals were made. Inside this building were sky high archways and ethereal sculptures climbing the walls, serving as a sanctuary for Angels to assign missions to Guardian angels. Here, angels gathered to deliberate matters of great importance, the air never failing to fill with harmonious discussion about families in need when meetings occurred. Each voice in the Counsel of Angels building resonated with an authority that boomed, as within these walls laid the power to change the lives of mere mortals, altering the course of fate.

The Angel Hub was comparably a much more relaxed place to be in than the Counsel of Angels. It was a space in which all angels gathered in order to unwind and relax after days or even months following a mission, a plethora of laughter and voices filling the air. Inside the building were large, open areas for social interactions and plush seating arrangements in every corner. In addition to the open spaces and comfortable seating options, was a large range of amenities that offered respite from their guardian duties like a spa and gym, but nothing compared to the bright camaraderie every angel shared amongst one another.

However, the familiar warmth of the Angel Hub stood in stark contrast to the oppressiveness of the Headquarters. The HQ was a strong fortress of judgment- where upon entering- the air turned cold. The entrance was flanked with iron doors and the ceiling ran high, adorned with a mural of The Last Judgment, a cold reminder of the fate awaiting those who dared to break the laws of the Guardian Codes.

Inside the Headquarters laid long, polished oak tables that filled the expansive hall. Here, the Counsel of Angels and members of the HQ gathered on the rare occasion a hearing took place. More often than not, a thin layer of dust would lay undisturbed on these tables, for such meetings were infrequent and unspoken of. However, when a meeting like this did occur, it often meant a Guardian would face punishments as severe as being reincarnated into a mortal angel with a cursed fate- or even worse, a condemnation to Hell.

Now, sitting on the quartz steps leading up to the imposing structure of the HQ building was a boy with platinum-blond hair dressed in a crisp white suit. Despite the solemn stoop in his shoulders, the sun’s radiant glow bathed him in a way that made him appear ethereal, despite the gloom beating around him. Blocking the sunlight with his outstretched wings, another boy descends besides him, casting a shadow over the boy. “It’s time to go inside, Jake.” He says with a grim expression.

Jake reluctantly stands up and joins his best friend of mere decades, Heeseung, each step towards the large iron doors drawing them closer to a fate neither of them could avoid any longer. With a deep breath, Jake pushes the heavy doors open, revealing a long hall filled with towering statues of legendary Guardian Angels- a now haunting site of fallen protectors. “It’s been years since I was last here,” Jake murmurs, a shudder rippling through his frame.

“Was that when the last hearing was?” Heeseung asks in a low voice.

“I’m not sure,” Jake’s gaze remains fixed on the path ahead, “Do you think they’ll let us off easy?”

Heeseung’s steps falter slightly as he listens to Jake’s words, the reason for their summons resurfacing in his mind. The Counsel had summoned the both of them to protect a girl named Alice, a high school senior with dreams of pursuing piano.

Alice was soft-spoken, so innocent and kind in a way that her presence was almost ethereal. She had this vibrance to her that made anyone who interacted with her longing for more. And the way she spoke of her music in such a reverence made it feel almost sacred- like her soul was spilling out bit by bit as each key was played. Her music was her sanctuary, just as her parents were. If it wasn’t her piano, it was her parents. Those two things were her most treasured possessions, up until Jake and Heeseung entered the picture.

Alice quickly captivated Heeseung and Jake in ways they hadn’t anticipated. They hadn’t planned on growing closer to her like that, much less fall for her. That much was forbidden, a Guardian Angel and a mortal to be together. Yet somewhere along the way, the lines between protector and lover blurred to a point even Heaven’s orders couldn’t sever. Though, if Heeseung could throw in any fruit for thought, he would say that it was Jake who was overly enamored with her; and it didn’t help that Alice was as equally infatuated with Jake.

Originally, Alice’s big concert- a chance for her to perform before college scouts- had been canceled due to a severe weather warning. But Jake, defying the angels above, took a reckless risk by manipulating fate to ensure that the show went on. He understood how much this concert meant to Alice; and he wanted nothing more than to see her on stage in that beautiful blue gown she saved up to buy, happily sharing her years of hard work- even if that meant bending a few rules.

That same night, a category 3 storm hit the streets. And while Alice waited in the safety of her venue, her parents got caught up in the eye of the storm on their way to watch her perform. Lightning struck just a car distance in front of their own, interfering with their steering and ultimately leading to their demise.The car had spun out, crashing into a railing and flipping with such force that everyone died on impact. To say Alice was devastated beyond repair when she learned of her parents’ deaths was an understatement. Standing there in the middle of her venue, sobbing in her expensive midnight blue dress as the weight of the news tore through her frame. For weeks, she never spoke, barely ate. She saw it as a devastating sign that her pursuit for happiness had ultimately led to her parents passing. And with the loss of the two things she cared about the most, she took her own life.

As the two boys near another set of doors, Heeseung breaks out of his cycle of thoughts, turning to Jake. “Honestly? I don’t know. What you did was incredibly stupid and reckless.” He sighs, shaking his head.

His friend’s worried expression turns sour, resentment flickering across his face. “If it was so stupid, you would’ve done more to stop me. But you loved her too, you wanted that concert to happen as much as I did.” His words come out bitterly, spitting blame on Heeseung that even he couldn’t deny.

Heeseung loved Alice; there was no denying it. But his love was different- it was more of a calm, steady flame in comparison to the wildfire that consumed Jake. His was all-encompassing, like some unbreakable spell Alice had casted on him. Heeseung feels his hand tighten at his side, but he swallows back the bitterness in his throat, not wanting to shake the brewing fragility of their friendship. He was already beginning to resent Jake for what happened.

The heavy doors creek open, revealing a vast hall filled with members of the Counsel, each occupying a seat at the long oak tables which were laid out in a rectangular shape. Their wings were concealed and their expressions were a mix of disappointment and grief. Heeseung felt a wave of guilt wash over him as he felt the weight of the angel's stares bore through him and Jake. At the center of the assembly hovered 5 angels of the HQ, each member adorned in a long, white cloak which glimmered in the sunlight that was streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

“Guardians Lee Heeseung and Sim Jaeyun,” a deep voice calls, reverberating across the hall. It belonged to an elder angel who hovered at the edge of the group. He descends gracefully to the floor, coming to stand behind the tables while staying within the boundary of the rectangular setup. “Today, you stand before us to discuss the events surrounding your mission with Alice.”

A second angel floats down to join the elder, she was much younger than him with sleek black hair just brushing against the small of her back and sharp cat like eyes. “Let us recount the facts,” she announces, “As two of Celesta’s most highly regarded Guardian Angels, you were entrusted with protecting a high school senior named Alice. Having served us for decades, you were expected to complete this mission seamlessly with no predicaments, but the both of you were blinded by love and selfishness, deviating you from your mission.” She clears her throat, “-and in your failure, led to unimaginable sorrow- the death of an entire family.”

Heeseung’s head lowers under the weight of his guilt that was finally becoming physically burdening. “Look at us when we speak to you.” commands a voice from the center of the hall. It was Michael, God’s second-in-command, a figure whose authority was as powerful as his presence. His voice echoes through the room and Heeseung looks up immediately, raking his eyes over the figure that spoke so purposefully. “Your careless actions resulted in a tragedy- a death count of three innocent souls. I’m assuming as well seasoned Guardian Angels, you’re aware of the punishment associated with mortal deaths.”

Michael had long stood as the most revered angel in all of Heaven. For centuries, his wisdom and strength commanded respect across both Heaven and Earth, his name carrying prestige to both angels and mortals alike. To have him, the highest of all angels, rebuke down on them was like driving a blade of guilt deep into their hearts. The sharpness of their own guilt pierced deeper than any blade could, settling through their veins like ice. No angel ever wished to face his wrath, and yet here they were, awaiting his final judgment.

“Lee Heeseung and Sim Jaeyun, given the severity of your actions, an appeal or intervention will not be entertained. The punishment will be absolute.”

Jake and Heeseung’s blood ran cold, a tremor of dread crawling up their spines. Jake shuffles ever so slightly over to his best friend, discreetly linking his pinky in Heeseung’s, desperate for some sort of temporary comfort as he faces his fate. Their faces burn with guilt as Michael’s words echo with finality, tightening the tension in the air. Heeseung felt his knees weaken, every fiber in his being fighting to keep him upright.

“You may say your last words before your punishment is carried out.”

Heeseung takes a step forward, his heart lurching as he reluctantly releases himself from Jake’s hand. “It is with profound regret that an innocent life like Alice’s was so greatly affected by our selfish, one-sided actions. Due to our careless behavior and lack of critical thinking and compassion we failed to protect Alice and those around her, resulting in the death of her loved ones, and ultimately herself. And for that, we will spend the rest of our lives repenting for our mistakes.”

There was no plea in the speech he delivered, Heeseung understood Michael’s words clearly. Forgiveness wasn’t in their future to seek, the tragedy so great it was something beyond reconciliation. Their fate was sealed as soon as Alice’s death was final. As a Guardian Angel, it was their sacred duty to guide and protect those assigned to them; and to fail in that was to bring peril to the universe, tipping the world off its axle.

Heeseung turns to Jake, a silent look asking if he wishes to say anything. Jake’s gaze remains fixated on his white dress shoes. He shook his head, swallowing hard. Heeseung turns back to Heeseung, his gaze heavy with sorrow, “I speak for the both of us when I say there is nothing else for us to add. We are ready to accept our punishment.”

In the city of Celesta, tragedy could only be answered with sacrifice.

⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁

“Stop fucking touching me,” you complain, pushing away your best friend for what felt like the umpteenth smile.

“I can’t help it!” Jake whines, tagging along beside you with that familiar pout you knew so well, his metaphorical puppy ears switching into airplane mode as though you’d scolded him. “It's the first day of class, Y/n! How am I not supposed to be nervous?”

You roll your eyes, though you can’t help but laugh a little, breaking your facade. “This isn’t even our biggest lecture, that one’s at 2 p.m., remember?” You say, pushing open the classroom door as you begin to glance around for an empty seat. Your eyes eventually zero in on two seats in the middle, and with a well-practiced tug on his hoodie sleeve, you drag him to what you hoped would be your unassigned assigned seats for the rest of the semester. “Jake, do you think this class is going to be boring?”

Jake drops into his seat with an exaggerated huff, setting his head on the desk. “I heard the first day of college is reserved for talking about the syllabus.” he mutters, his hoodie covering his eyes. “I miss middle school when we got babied for being the only sixth graders in our classes.”

Rolling your eyes, you let your mind fall back to when you first met Jake in middle school, tucked away in the back corner of an advanced math class where the two of you were considered outliers. As the only sixth graders navigating honors pre-algebra, you were dwarfed- surrounded by ninth graders that towered over you like giants, casting you annoyed glances every chance they got. It was clear from the start that you and Jake would become quite close considering the disapproval the older students gave you two.

In seventh grade, you noticed his presence in your other advanced classes too- biology and english- each time being the only other seventh grader in the sea of high schoolers. He was your partner for every project- not by choice- but because no other student wanted to pair up with the young, pre-pubescent students whose voices cracked with every other word.

Gradually, the constant presence of Jake being near you became something you looked forward to. Whether you were double-checking some crazy long math formula or relearning the Krebs cycle for the umpteenth time, Jake was always besides you. Your partnership, born out of pure convenience and necessity, became an anchor for you in those chaotic years. By the time 8th grade came around, he was more than just a familiar face, but your best friend.

Breaking you from your thoughts, your classroom begins to fill and an older man enters the room, briefcase swinging by his side. “Alright, welcome to Econ 101. We’ll start with attendance right away.” Beside you, Jake grumbles softly into his sweater, tucking his hands under his chin.

For the next few minutes, your professor goes through a list of names you’ve never heard of, his voice a monotonous drone that drags through the air. “Lee Heeseung?” he calls. You feel Jake tense beside you, his half-closed eyes snapping open completely. From the back of the room, a low voice murmurs, “Here.”

Curiously, you crane your neck to glance over your shoulder, catching sight of him- a boy with dark red hair, an unwavering gaze fixed ahead of him, completely disinterested in anyone else. His eyes seem to bore through the heads of those sitting in front of him, as if they’re merely ghosts. Feeling an unwavering chill run through your veins, you turn back in your seat.

When your own name is called, you manage a steady “Here”, shaking off the unease of Heeseung’s blank stare.

Finally, the professor reaches Jake’s name, “Sim Jaeyun?” he calls. Jake mutters a lackluster, “Here” that’s just loud enough for the professor to hear and you nudge him in the side.

“Why didn’t you tell him to call you Jake?”

He gives you a half-hearted yawn, “Just tired,” he attempts, his voice fraying at the edges. You roll your eyes, clicking your tongue before turning your attention back to the front of the class. The professor continues to drone on, like Jake had predicted earlier, spending most of today’s class time dissecting the syllabus at an almost microscopic detail. It’s a dense discussion, and you find your attention wavering in and out until the words, ‘group project’ catch your ear.

Upon hearing the collective sighs from the small class, the professor offers a smile, undeterred by the class’s reaction. “I know, I know. Group projects aren’t everyone’s favorite, but teamwork is essential in the real world. I’ve assigned you all into groups of three.”

Jake lets out another tired sigh, his tense body unrelenting as he turns to you, “I hope we’re paired up.” He whispers, leaning his heavy head into your shoulders before slumping into his seat.

Names start to echo through the room as the professor starts calling them out in groups of three, “Sim Jaeyun, Y/n L/n,” he pauses before adding the last name, “And Lee Heeseung.”

Your eyes widen in surprise and you swing around to face Jake with a wide grin, “You manifested well, my Jake.” You tell him, nudging him in the side. He offers you a faint smile, hoping you wouldn’t notice the way his heart raced at the mere thought of his near future. Not noticing the way your best friend has slipped into his own little shell of overthinking, you find your gaze flickering to the back of the classroom. You steal a glance at Heeseung and notice that he hasn’t budged, still as disinterested as ever- though this time, there’s a new sharpness to his gaze.

The professor continues on, tone light hearted as he wraps up the class, “I’d highly suggest meeting with your group after today's class to start working on the project immediately. College will surely keep you busy, and I would hate to see you guys turn this in late.”

The moment he concludes, you gather your things and turn towards Jake, “Could you talk to Heeseung and get his contact info? I’ve got to rush to my next class.”

He nods, albeit absentmindedly as he watches you disappear without waiting for a response. But before Jake could begin processing his next move, he feels a tug on the back of his hoodie, Heeseung’s hand roughly grabbing at the fabric. “Whoa- what the heck?” Jake says, stumbling to grab his backpack as Heeseung drags him into an empty hall.

The silence in the hall is deafening, away from the bustle of students. “Jake.” Heeseung deadpans, the word devoid of any emotion. With knitted eyebrows, Heeseung moves forward until he’s just inches away from Jake’s face.

The smaller boy freezes, a shiver running through his veins as he slowly looks up to meet the dark gaze of the boy standing before him. “Heeseung.” He says, the name falling from his lips like a blow of dust. “You didn’t have to pull me like that, we’re in the same group. No need to be… dramatic.”

Heeseung doesn’t relent. Instead, he steps forward and keeps his gaze fixed on his ex best friend. “Dramatic?” His voice drops dangerously low. “You think I waited all this time for a fucking group project, just to be called ‘dramatic’?”

Jake’s breath hitches, a chill creeping over him as he registers the menace in Heeseung’s voice- a stark contrast to the Heeseung he had known all those years ago. The Heeseung from before was soft-spoken, carrying himself with a quiet confidence that radiated warmth and gentleness, not this harsh authority he was seeing now. With his unforgiving glare and sharpness in his voice, Jake could barely recognize him; if not for his name and familiar bambi shaped eyes, Heeseung would have seemed like a complete stranger.

Jake swallows, his throat dry as the memory of their punishment relinquishes his mind due to the sudden reunion with his old best friend. Losing his wings was like losing his identity, and it took years for him to step out of that darkness once he regained his memories at the age of 11. And he couldn’t even imagine what it must have felt like for Heeseung- to not only lose his wings but to also be severed from his angelic nature completely. The fall from grace hadn’t been easy for either of them: the hollow ache in Jake’s shoulders acting as a constant reminder of what he used to have, and the tether that had once kept Heeseung close to the light being stripped entirely from him. Jake may have fallen, but Heeseung had fallen so much further for reasons Jake didn’t know.

“What’s got you waiting any longer? Can’t kill me?” Jake asks, his eyes hardening.

“Killing you isn’t on my agenda, at least not right now. There’s still so much to be done, let’s catch up soon, okay?”

Jake’s head swirls with emotions as Heeseung takes a step back, an evil smirk plastered on his face. The chill in the hallway seems to thicken as Heeseung turns around, lengthening the distance between them. His head becomes heavy as the weight of their shared past presses heavily on him, lingering questions of what’s in store hovering in the air like a dark cloud.

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“So did you get his number?” You ask, plopping down next to Jake who was sprawled out on your dorm room floor.

With a shake of the head, he tells you that Heeseung had left immediately before he could grab any contact information. “Tch, we’ll have to get it next class then.” You reply, laying down to look up at the glow-in-the-dark stars you had put up on your ceiling when you first moved in. Jake had suggested the Orion. “Was it just me, or did he give off weird vibes?” You ask, unable to keep your observations about him a secret.

Shifting besides you, Jake turns to face you, “Yeah, the guy gives me the creeps. It’s like he’s waiting for something to happen…”

He swallows hard, his mind a race of thoughts as he juggles the various paths Heeseung might take in order to achieve immortality again. Would Heeseung really follow through with what Michael said in order to redeem their punishment now that they had located each other, or would he just continue to lay low?

So many years had passed, Jake could almost say he had forgotten about the deal they had made with the Counsel of Angels and the HQ. He almost didn’t want to go back, life was amazing, but he knew the cursed fate of his punishment was bound to come. And now that the long awaited encounter with Heeseung had finally happened, it was time for Jake to put his guard up.

Just then, your phone buzzes, catching Jake in the middle of his inner battle. You glance down to see a text from Chaeryoung, a girl you had met earlier that day in your English 116 class, inviting you to a party. “Hey, there’s a party going on at the Alpha Delta frat house, you wanna swing by?”

Jake raises an eyebrow at you, not giving any sign of standing up any time soon. “A party? When did you start going to those?”

“Since never, but we’re in college now.” You reply, a playful gleam sparkling in your eyes as you hold a hand out for him to grab. “We have to start leaving the house for things that aren’t math competitions and family dinners.”

Jake hesitates for a minute, glancing at your outstretched hand before ultimately letting out a resigned sigh and grabbing it.

You were right; the two of you had fallen into a comfortable routine, cocooned within the walls of your childhood homes, spending your nights hunched over textbooks and cramming for high school finals. Family events were also a staple in your lives, with the two of your families growing closer over the years as you two spent more and more time together, every holiday became a joint gathering.

“Fine, but I’m only coming to make sure you don’t get plastered.” He says with reluctance in his voice.

Smiling happily at your best friend, you lock yourself away in the bathroom, the soft click of the door providing you a moment of privacy. As you change into a plaid black skirt and simple sweater, you give yourself a once over in the mirror, adjusting your hair and shaking off any lingering feelings of hesitancy before unlocking the door.

His gaze sweeps over you, his eyes lingering just a fraction longer on your exposed legs than they should. You can’t help but notice a rush of warmth that rises to your cheeks when his eyes meet yours, “What, should I go and change?” you ask, embarrassment laced in your voice.

His response is quick as he shoves his hands into his pockets, “No, no. You look fine, let’s go.” With that, he steps out of your dorm room.

The frat house isn’t far- just a five minute walk from your place, but the journey stretches into the double digits as you and Jake navigate the unfamiliar plot of land in the darkness, illuminated only by the occasional glow of streetlamps and laughter of fellow college students.

As you approach a large building that is surrounded by students holding drinks and swaying to booming music, you hear a feminine voice call your name. “Girl, you’re finally here! I didn’t know if you’d make it.” Looking over to your left, you see a girl with long black hair jogging over to you and Jake with two red solo cups in hand. “Here, it’s a special drink I mixed just for you,” she says, shoving the concoction into your free hand.

With a cautious sip, you let the tangy liquid reach your tastebuds and you click your tongue, giving it a moment to settle. “It’s quite nice!” You say, raising your cup for another sip. Jake’s cautious hand lands on your arm before you can savor another sip, and you look at him with curiosity.

“Are you sure? What about your pills?” He asks in a low voice.

“They’re just antidepressants, not opioids.” You tell him, pulling away from him to take a second sip. You loved Jake enough to never tell him this, but you were hoping that tonight would give you a chance to explore the world without Jake hovering around you. He was always so protective.

She smiles, linking her arm through yours and nodding her head for Jake to follow.

She leads the two of you into the frat house, quickly introducing you to four other girls: Yeji, Lia, Yuna, and Ryujin. “Jake, go make some friends. I’m sure you’d rather be doing anything else than stand around surrounded by girls.” You say, shooing him off. He shoots you a look but saunters off to the kitchen to talk to some boys, quickly captivating them with his signature puppy charm.

With the help of Chaeryoung’s drink, you make quick work with the girls you just met, finding yourself settling down with them comfortably as the night unfolds. Ryujin and Lia leave for just a moment to refill your drinks, coming back a second later with a different mixture, this one more bitter and leaving a sour burn in your throat. “Let’s go dance.” Yeji says, grabbing your wrist.

You follow her into the living room where a group of drunken bodies are pushing against each other, intoxicatingly out of rhythm with the music. Yeji pulls you into the crowd, encouraging you to dance alongside the sweaty bodies and sway to the bass of the music.

As you let the alcohol guide your movements, you fail to notice the eyes on your back. Disheartened by your lack of awareness, a boy walks up to you and pulls you away from the crowd by your waist. Due to your senses being dimmed from the alcohol, you can only manage a meek swat to the arm. “Hey, I couldn’t help but notice how pretty you looked dancing over there.” He murmurs, too close to your ear.

You look into his eyes, noticing a darkness in his gaze, clearly unaware of your discomfort. Glancing around, you suddenly become hyper-aware of the way the crowd around you two seems to press on without a second glance. In an effort to put some distance between you and the stranger, you try to step back, but your effort is proven futile when he pulls you closer. “What, trying to leave, kitten?”

His breath is fanning in front of your face now, and you can smell the strong scent of beer intoxicating your senses. With sweat beading at the root of your forehead, you glance around one more time and spot Jake out of the corner of your eye making a beeline toward you.

“Back off,” he says instantly, pushing his body between you and the stranger.

“Who the hell is this? Your fucking Guardian Angel?”

The stranger steps into Jake’s space, testing the waters to see just how far your best friend will go. Jake, who had always been strong willed and protective, doesn’t budge. The tension around you three thickens, drawing in the gaze of a few partygoers, but no one moves. “She isn’t interested,” He says, “So back off.”

The man lets out a scoff, broadening his chest out as if to size Jake up, “What makes you think she isn’t interested?”

You notice the way Jake’s hand clenches by his side, his knuckles flurrying white, and for a moment, you’re worried he may take it too far. Jake was never one for aggression, he was always the voice of reason, someone who would rather defuse a situation with words rather than with fists. But now, Jake stands in front of the guy who dared to make you uncomfortable, locking eyes, “Don’t make me repeat myself.” He says, his voice low and sharp.

It’s the first time in your life you’ve ever heard him speak with an edge to his voice, and it’s almost enough to make you weak. After a long, tense silence, the guy finally smirks and raises his hands in mock surrender. “Alight, angel.” He says, voice dripping with sarcasm, “you can have her.”

As his figure melts back into the crowd, Jake’s shoulders sag, letting out a deep breath as the tension from before visibility settles. “You okay?” he asks, his tone softening as he scans your face.

You nod, a similar relief matching his as you pull him into a hug. “You know you didn’t have to do that. I’m sure I would’ve found my way out eventually.” You say, giggling as the alcohol buzzes through your veins.

He shrugs, holding you in his arms for just a second longer. “Yeah… Guess it’s just my job.”

“You really are my Guardian Angel, aren’t you?” You tease, laughing before skipping off to find Yeji, whom you had lost earlier.

Jake watches as you disappear into the crowd once more, your words echoing in his mind: Guardian Angel, if only you knew. Your mere mention of a Guardian Angel felt like a cold slap to the face, reminding him of everything you didn't know, everything he couldn’t tell you.

The irony of it all nearly makes him laugh, but instead, a hint of sadness glistens in his eyes when he loses sight of you again. You weren’t assigned to him like Alice, but he took it upon himself to act as your Guardian Angel as soon as he met you in that advanced math class. He felt like it was a sign, to protect you from the harsh judgment of the older students. Acting as your “Guardian Angel” wasn’t just a joke to him- it was something he vowed upon when he ascended into the heavens. But it was something you would never know the full extent of.

Maybe he wasn’t the angel that he once was- powers stripped and all- but there was still that tether holding him to the light that kept Jake up like a guiding force, subtle but steady. He knew there was still a chance, still a possibility to come back.

With a shake of the head, Jake glances around before making his way back to the kitchen. As he weaves through the crowd, he spots Heeseung casually leaning against a wall, watching everything that had just unfolded. Their eyes lock, and Jake feels a flicker of unease twist in his stomach, wincing before turning away. “Toss me a beer,” he mutters to the group near him, shaking off the gaze of Heeseung’s eyes on his back.

Jungwon, one of the boys he had met earlier, slides a Guinness across the kitchen island. “You good, man? You look like you just saw the devil.” He jokes, his cat eyes seen creasing over his solo cup.

Jake almost laughs; he practically had. “Nah, just had a run in with some dude hitting on my best friend.” He says, hoping the swig from his beer would calm the unease stirring inside of him.

Jay, another guy from the group, raises his eyebrow. “You like her?”

Jake shakes his head, forcing out a laugh as he ignores the heaviness in his stomach, “No, just… protective. That’s all.”

Jay and Jungwon glance at one another, giving eachother a knowing look. Though they had only met Jake a few hours ago, Jake was easy to decipher. It was clear to them that Jake looked at you in a way that was more than just ‘friendly’.

Hours blur by as Jake hangs out in the kitchen with a group of boys and you dance amongst the crowd on your fourth cup of whatever Chaeryoung had managed to mix for you, each one stronger than the last. It felt unbelievably freeing, a complete 180 from the years of careful restriction your parents had kept you under for so long. You’d never had the chance to drink or go out to parties back in high school; your parents always saying something about your meds not mixing well with alcohol. But you had been on them since you were seven, around the time you started your piano lessons. You felt like it was just an excuse for them to keep you under their supervision. But it didn’t matter anyways, they weren’t here to hover over your shoulder now- and damn did you feel alive.

Lost in the rhythm, you dance along with your friends, letting the alcohol guide your messy movements. You feel your back stick to Yuna’s skin as you move against her, sweat slicking your body the harder you dance. It was getting hot, but you enjoyed it. With your eyes closed, you sway along to the music and let your laughter mix into the air until you feel a firm grip catch your arm.

“Y/n, we should get going.” A familiar voice says into your ear.

“Whyyy?” you slur, pathetically holding back a giggle as you lean into him. Jake steadies you, catching your frame as he wraps a secure arm around your waist.

“You’re drunk, Y/n.” He says, wrapping your arm around his shoulder. “Come on, I’ll take you back to your dorm.”

Through half-closed eyes, you give a lazy nod and let your best friend drag you through the crowded frat house. It takes double the time it took to get here than it does to get back to your dorm thanks to your drunken gait and need to look at every flower on the ground, but you manage to make it back to your dorm in one piece.

“Can you change, or do you need help?” He asks, noticing the way you flop onto your bed.

“I’m fine.” you drawl.

Jake quirks an eyebrow as amusement flickers in his eyes. “You sure?” He asks, watching as you try to shimmy your way out of your skirt and top. Leaning against your wall, he crosses his arms.

“I said I’m fine.” you insist, finally managing to wriggle out of your clothes, leaving you in your panties and bra. Jake, ignoring the flush in his cheeks lets out an awkward chuckle.

“Ok, I believe you.” He says, ignoring the way his heart flutters at seeing your cute messed up state. Moving to your bed, he grabs at your blanket and pulls it above your chest, “Text me when you wake up, alright?”

Before leaving, Jake reaches into your bedside drawer and pulls out a bottle of Advil, making sure to fill up a glass of water as well, placing it next to your bed before slipping out of your room quietly. Hearing the door click behind him, he turns around only to come face to face with the one and only, Heeseung.

“Gosh, do me a favor and put on a bell.” He gasps, clutching at his heart. Heeseung’s expression doesn’t change though, his gaze all the more intense as he looks at Jake with an unreadable stare.

“You’re so careless, sneaking around in her room now?” He says, a smirk dancing on his lips.

“I’m just looking out for her, Heeseung.” Jake says, attempting to step around the boy. With a quick side step, Heeseung blocks his path, allowing him to deliver his next words in a low whisper.

“You’re not a Guardian Angel, anymore.” He hisses, venom dripping in his voice. “Unless there’s…some sort of ulterior motive?”

Jake forces himself to stay calm, “Stop talking about that.” He asserts, looking around to see if anyone heard, “And don’t be ridiculous. I’m her best friend.” With one final glance, Jake bumps Heeseung in the shoulder to get past him, heading down to the first floor of your dorm building. “Why are you even here?”

Heeseung watches him descend down the steps, his expression twisting into something darker, possessive even. “Just…meeting with a friend.” He mutters. As Jake’s figure disappears down the stairwell, Heeseung turns back to face your door. “Y/n…” He licks his lips after saying your name, the word falling from his lips like honey.

It doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep, thanks to the special concoctions that Chaeryoung had mixed for you earlier. With Jake’s help, you fall asleep quite fast, but you find the dreams that night were particularly vivid.

Your hands fly across the keys of the grand piano, each note a haunting and lonely calling that fills the seemingly empty space around you. The spotlights harsh glow envelops you, casting everything beyond you into a vast darkness that seems to stretch on to no end. Every note echos, only proving your point that you seem to be in a never ending void.

In the shadows, just beyond the spotlight’s reach sat two blurry figures on wooden chairs. Though their faces were hidden, you could make out the frame of a woman and a man sitting together in close proximity. There was something warm and familiar about them that emanates at you as you continue to play, a feeling that fills you with comfort and sorrow. They sit there in complete silence, watching you.

The song intensifies as each chord brings you to reach new heights, the melody picking up as it fills the unmoving space. Your hands are moving faster now, an ache growing in your chest as you reach the climax of the song. Finally, pressing the final key, you look up, only to see that the figures have faded. In their absence leaves a deep, inexplicable grief.

To say you could’ve had a better morning was an understatement. Your head is throbbing, and your throat is parched as hell. But to your convenience, an Advil bottle and glass of water decorate your bedside table and you quickly swallow the pill. Feeling the large pill descend down your throat, you close your eyes as if to will the pounding sensation to go away.

With your eyes closed, remnants of your dream come back to your mind and you can’t seem to shake the feeling of that loss from your heart. You never enjoyed your piano lessons, but never had they made you feel grief. It was always a struggle to keep at your lessons, each note feeling like a chore rather than a hobby. Yet now, you don’t think you could find yourself forgetting that melody for some time.

A sudden knock at your door jolts you from your thoughts, the sound echoing in your head. “Y/n, get up!” Jake calls out, his voice muffled. You roll your eyes, feeling an odd annoyance towards the sound of your best friend's voice.

“Come in!” You shout back. The door swings open, revealing a bored looking Jake. He walks in, having unlocked your door with the illegal key copy he made of your dorm key. He wasn’t one to ever break the rules, but if it meant keeping you safe, he guessed he could bend just a few. “How do you feel?” He asks, coming to sit down on the edge of your bed.

“Like hell,” you admit, rubbing at your temples in a futile attempt to ease the aching pain.

“Did you take the pills I left out for you?” He probes, leaning over to see if you had drunk the glass of water.

His overbearingness has you rolling your eyes harder than you normally would and you wince, your headache pounding as you do so. “Yes, I-” Before you can finish your sentence, your phone begins to ring, interrupting the moment. You hold a hand up to Jake, signaling for him to shut his mouth. “Hello?” you answer, your voice still thick with sleep.

“My sweet vixen,” a smooth voice says, ��How did you sleep?”

Heat rushes to your cheeks and you quickly turn your face so that your hair falls to cover your expressions. “I slept fine, thanks.” You reply, doing your best to keep your tone level. Jake perks up upon hearing you talk about your sleep, wondering who would bother asking you how you slept.

“I’d like to meet up around 4 p.m. in the Cornox building to discuss our economics project with you and Jake, would that be okay?” Heeseung continues, his voice confident as he toys with the pen in his fingers back at his own dorm.

“Yeah, I’ll let him know.” you say right before hastily hanging up the call. Lowering your hand, you look at Jake who had been staring at you intently.

“Who was that?” He asks with wide eyes.

“Heeseung,” you say plainly, avoiding his gaze as you feel the lingering heat on your cheeks still there. As you stand up from your bed, you feel the cool air hit your naked skin and you scramble to the bathroom. “Oh my gosh, Jake! Don’t look at me!”

Jake rolls his eyes, striding over to your closet with a casual ease to pick out a pair of shorts and top. “Oh hush, you literally stripped in front of me last night.” He teases, opening your door enough to reach his arm in, handing you the clothes. “How did he get your number?”

“I ran into him at the party last night, did you not see him?” You say, throwing the garments on quickly.

Jake’s face hardens at the thought of you meeting with Heeseung without him there, “I did…I just don’t know.” He answers, hesitating for just a moment before pressing on, “I think you should be careful, he seems- intense.”

You throw Jake a look, brushing off his concerns, “Jake, I can’t exactly ignore him when we have to meet up with him later today to work on the econ project.” Swinging the bathroom door open, you step out. “I can handle myself, now shut up and help me find my econ notebook. I think I left it under my bed.”

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The day moves faster than you’d anticipated, your shared classes with Jake flying by quickly due to his constant whispering in your ear. Though, your one class with Heeseung raises an unease in your stomach you can’t quite shake throughout the day due to the weight of his gaze on your back.

Before you know it, 4 p.m. arrives and you’re standing in the middle of the Cornox building with Jake, the two of you glancing around expectantly. The building was rather old, its building pillars stretching over 12 feet high and carved with intricate detailing that you couldn’t recognize. They rise up into an archway that soars above your heads, giving the building a sort of timelessness to the hall that makes you feel out of place everytime you walk in wearing sweatpants and a plain t-shirt.

“Didn’t he say the Cornox building?” Jake asks, his foot tapping on the glossed over stone tiles in an irrythmic pattern.

“I did, didn’t I?” a voice drawls from behind.

Turning, you see Heeseung approaching, dressed in a black hoodie and faded blue jeans, such casual clothes for someone with such an intense, magnetic energy. His eyes, sharp and calculating, meet yours for just a moment before he glides past the two of you, claiming a seat at the table before you both. Swallowing, you sit in the chair beside him and Jake follows suit, pulling up a chair next to yours.

“Let’s start by dividing up the project,” Heeseung suggests, pulling out his laptop. “I think Y/n and I should handle the presentation- gather all the research and everything.” He looks over at Jake with a challenge in his stare, “Jake, you can write up the draft for the research paper and then we can edit that before submitting everything.”

You stare at your hands, fingers intertwined and tucked in the safety between your legs as you feel the weight of the silence that stretches between the three of you. Heeseung’s assertive voice weighs heavily in the air, and you’ll be damned if you’re the first one to break the silence. Instead, you keep your gaze fixed downwards as you pull your things from out of your backpack. Jake, fueled with jealousy swallows his words and nods towards Heeseung, pulling his own laptop and textbooks out.

Besides you, Jake stiffens, his jaw clenched as he types furiously at his laptop. ‘Since when did we choose a group leader, huh?’ he thinks to himself. He glances up at Heeseung briefly, a mixture of annoyance glazing over his irises as he represses himself from shouting at the boy.

For the next few hours, the three of you work together in a tense but calm rhythm, only puncturing the steady silence through murmured debates about resources and presentation slides. The earlier tension from before seems to slowly give way through your productive collaboration, and you almost forget about the strained dynamic that Jake and Heeseung seemed to share. After a while, you begin to find your back becoming sore from hunching over your laptop for so long. Stretching your arms above your head, you let out a long sigh.

“Should we call it a day? I think we’ve done enough.” You suggest, rolling your shoulders as your shirt lifts slightly.

Heeseungs gaze flickers down to the sliver of skin that peeks under your shirt, and he leans back with a smirk. “That’s a good idea, Y/n.”

“Yuna told me there’s a 24/7 Cafe just down the street. It’s supposed to be perfect for late-night hangouts, how about we head there for a bit and check it out?” You ask, smiling at the two boys.

Jake nods, offering you a faint smile despite the obvious reluctance towards having to spend more time around Heeseung tugging at his heart. He wasn’t one to say no to you. You gather your things and beckon the boys to hurry up, leaving the Cornox building and walking across the campus under the evening sky. Within minutes, the glow of the cafe comes into view and your eyes sprawl over the pillars adorned with crawling vines and the frosted windows with flower boxes of every color.

Inside, the cafe is warm and inviting as the dim campus lights seep through the windows. The cafe is lit by a warm hue, casting a humble glow over its patrons, creating a cozy sanctuary. Navigating through the space, you find a table in the corner and settle in as Jake heads to the counter to order your drinks. “Did you want anything, Heeseung?” You say, reaching for your wallet. You knew Jake already knew your cafe order, but you didn’t recall him ever asking what Heeseung wanted.

Heeseung places his hand over your own, his fingers cold against your warm ones. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m not hungry.” His voice is smooth as he stops you from reaching for your wallet. You smile, feeling a sudden shyness as you pull your hands away from his just as Jake comes back.

“One medium iced vanilla latte for you,” Jake says, placing your drink in front of you. His eyes move towards the vacancy in front of Heeseung and he lets out a hum, “Oh, did you want anything? I just went to the counter out of habit since I always buy Y/n's by default when we go to cafes.” You kick Jake’s shin, annoyed by his attitude and he lets out a strained groan.

Heeseung only smirks, his eyes full of amusement as he ignores Jake’s pathetic attempts at riling him up. “No need, Jake. Y/n already offered but I politely declined.”

The tension in the air is almost palpable, but you do your best to ignore it, focusing instead on keeping the conversation light. Your attempts are futile though as Jake and Heeseung are dead set on staying silent, their gazes crossing from time to time only to throw the occasional dirty look at one another. The only time they open their mouths is to respond to you and you only. But you refuse to let their negative energy affect your night, so you lean back into the booth and let your gaze wander your surroundings, looking for a topic to talk about.

“Oh, is that an automatic piano?” You exclaim, nudging Jake as you lean over to get a better look. Tucked away in the corner of the bustling cafe was a grand piano that seemed to only do so much to fill the already energetic cafe.

Jake follows your gaze, a faint look of recognition on his face, “Oh yeah, I guess it is.”

Heeseung chimes in, “Do you play?”

You meet Heeseung’s gaze, feeling an odd weight in his question. “My parents signed me up for piano lessons when I was seven, but I hated it. I quit as soon as I graduated high school.” You settle back into the booth, closing your eyes so that you could focus better on the piano playing in the background. “Lacrimosa by Mozart.” You murmur.

“I didn’t know you played,” Jake says, genuine surprise flickering across his face.

You shrug, “Well, I hated it so I guess it never really came up. Felt more like a burden than anything. Though I guess I could say it’s a hidden talent of mine.”

Heeseung and Jake exchange a glance when you aren’t looking, too fleeting for you to notice as you finish your drink. Upon the familiar sound of your straw scraping against the bottom of your cup, you frown and get up to excuse yourself. Before you can shuffle around Jake, your phone buzzes- a call from Yeji, asking for you to come over and hang out with her and the girls. “Hey, Yeji asked me to come over and hang out, so I think I’m gonna get going.” You say, shifting around Jake to grab your bag. He swivels his feet out of the booth and you slide past him, waving to them both before leaving the cafe, the scent of your mahogany vanilla perfume lingering in your absence.

When your figure disappears from his view, Heeseung clasps his hands together. “You’re in love with her.” He deadpans, the words striking the air with the bluntness of a hammer.

Jake’s head snaps around, his heart thumping in his chest. “What? She’s my best friend, what do you mean?”

A knowing smirk tugs at Heeseung’s lips and he leans in further, “Because she’s just like Alice.”

The name cuts through Jake’s chest like a knife, an unwelcome reminder of the past he tried so hard to bury. He swallows hard, his voice dropping down to a whisper despite the close proximity of their faces, “I told you to stop talking about this stuff in public.” His voice is almost threatening, annoyance creeping in.

“When did you meet Y/n?” Heeseung presses, insistence evident in his voice.

Jake’s expression hardens as his reluctance grows, “When I was eleven.”

“And when did your memories come back?”

Jake clenches his jaw, realization dawning upon him, “When I was also eleven. But that means nothing.” Silence fills the space as Heeseung leans in even closer, his hands pressing against the table now to trap Jake in between his posture.

“You want to know when I regained my memories?” He asks, face close enough Jake could feel his breath. “When I was six, the moment my parents passed away in a car accident in the middle of a category 3 storm. Just. Like. Alice’s. Parents.” There’s a dangerous venom that drips from Heeseung’s voice now as he closes in on Jake, his hatred for the boy now unrelenting as he reveals the horrors of his past.

Heeseung does his best to control the venom flowing through his veins before continuing, knowing he still had the decency to play nice in a public place like this. “Do you have any idea how many fucking foster homes I went through? How many belts hit my ass because I didn’t clean up the dishes fast enough, or how many nights I spent sleeping outside because I didn’t get an A on my tests?” All the pain, all the unspoken abuse Heeseung went through was coming to light now, and Jake could do nothing but listen to his old best friend relive his past through angry words. “This was my cursed fate, but it seems like you haven’t even started yours.” His glare was enticing now, almost playful.

“You may have loved her enough to break the Guardian Code, but you didn’t pay the price for it like I did. I warned you, but you never listened. And now I’m the one who became a devil for your fucking sins.”

“Heeseung, I- I didn’t know.” Jake stammers, his throat tightening as his words catch, “I really thought we were both still… you know, angels.”

Heeseung scoffs and pulls away from Jake, giving him room to catch his breath. “Of course you didn’t. They thought I was the one that crossed the line, the one that corrupted us. I was the older one, it was me who had to protect us.” Heeseung steps out from the booth, “Watch your back, Sim Jaeyun.”

In his absence, Jake feels the air grow colder as he sits there frozen in his spot. The sound of his heart hammers so hard, he can practically hear it reverberate in his skull, an incessant pounding in the back of his head. The realization has Jake’s guts twisting about, leaving him physically nauseous at the mere thought that this was all because of Jake. He was the one to break the Guardian Code yet he said nothing when they were both dragged down to earth as mortals.

Memories of their time back in Celesta begin to flood Jake’s mind as a cold sweat breaks out across his skin. They had once been inseparable- a special bond between them that kept them joined together at the hip. Jake could recall the countless nights spent under the millions of stars laughing and sparring with Heeseung, exchanging stupid jokes that chipped at one another’s pride, but never the bond between them. Together, they faced every challenge as one, but Jake’s forbidden love severed that bond in an instant the moment he let Heeseung get dragged down to earth with him.

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After leaving the cafe, you feel a weight lift off of your shoulders. Feeling lighter, you make your way to the familiar building of Yeji’s dorm, its boring gray concrete standing in stark contrast to the cafe’s cozy greenery and warm ambience. You spot the iconic purple LED lights illuminating the third floor window on the corner of the building, the familiar color lifting your mood instantaneously as you pull your phone out to let her know you’re here.

Within minutes, a drunken looking Yeji and Ryujin stumble out of the building’s front entrance. “Y/n! Finally, we were waiting for you!”

You slip your arms between theirs as they drag you up the stairs and into their room which was booming with all kinds of music, a playlist including all of your favorites. Lia, sitting cross-legged on the furry carpet raises an eyebrow at you, “We just finished Uno, wanna join the next game?” You excitedly nod, taking a seat down next to her, waiting for your hand to be dealt.

The evening blurs by, beers and coolers in hand as each round of Uno gets more and more chaotic. “Yuna, where are your cards?” Lia asks after Yuna says Uno.

“In the deck?” She says innocently, batting her eyelashes at the older girl.

“Bullshit,” you shout, launching yourself at Yuna as you tackle her, the velocity of your hit causing her body to fall over. Underneath her, a pile of cards fling out and Chaeryoung lets out a loud squeal.

Chaos ensues the moment Yuna’s lame attempt at hiding her cards is revealed, and the game of Una dissipates. “You little cheater!” Yeji gasps, grabbing a pillow to smack over her head. In a matter of seconds, every throw pillow in the room is taken hostage and swung wildly at one another as each girl abandons their decks of cards. Giggles and shrieks fill the hot air, only half of the blows landing due to all of your collectively drunken dazes.

“Alright, I give up!” Yuna gasps through a fit of laughter, clutching her stomach as Ryujin and Yeji ravage her with silk pillows.

As the chaos begins to simmer, you find yourself sprawled across Yeji’s dorm room floor alongside Chaeryoung and Lia, each of you glowing with the buzz of alcohol. Around Yeji’s room are pillows scattered everywhere, Uno cards strewn in places they shouldn’t be and beer bottles rolling about. You let out a sigh of content, rolling onto your side. “I should really get going,” you mumble, stretching as you gather your belongings. “But I’ll see you girls later, alright?”

Each one gives you a sleepy farewell and you blow them a kiss, stepping out of the room carefully so as to not bother anyone else on the floor. When you reach outside, you happily welcome the crisp night air as it washes over your hot and sticky skin. It’s enough to help you make your way back to your dorm.

It was about 10:30 p.m. by the time you got back to your dorm. You shake away the faint buzz that runs through your body as you change into a comfortable pajama set, slipping into your bed quickly. Enveloped in the warmth of your bed, you close your eyes, feeling fatigue wash over you rather quickly.

A chilling sensation trickles through your vessels like an icy breeze hitting your bare skin. You open your eyes slowly, only to reveal a very large, empty ballroom stretching out before you. Its floor-to-ceiling windows line the walls, their sheer curtains adorning each window billowing in the wind as if they were calling out to you. In the eerie silence, you hear a creek from above that echoes through the space- a chandelier above you swaying, casting a haunting shadow against your figure while the candles flicker against the wind- fighting to stay alight in the harsh draft.

Cold raindrops string your cheeks like a slap and you raise a hand to your face to shield yourself from its further assault. Glancing around, your gaze catches on an elevated platform, and atop it sits a grand piano, dark in its solitude. Turning your head, you notice a barrage of seats in front of the platform, but not a single one is occupied, as though they were awaiting an audience that had never arrived.

Drawn to the piano, you step closer, but stop when the keys begin to move on their own- a hauntingly familiar melody filling the thick air. The notes claw at your heart as the melody moves through you, guilt dripping in its wake. And as the song plays on, it continues to rip into you for reasons you can’t understand, leaving your heart in an agonizing mess. Desperate for an escape, you tear your gaze away from the moving keys. Looking anywhere but the piano, your gaze darts around the ballroom until your eyes land on a pair of shadowy figures that seem to only vanish as soon as you focus in on them. With a frustrated sigh, you run towards the middle of the ballroom, bunching up the midnight blue gown to your core so you could run faster.

Without warning, the room begins to spin, blurring into a blinding white until you find yourself standing outside- soaking in a torrential downpour. The road seems to stretch on for miles, illuminated only by the distance lightning strikes, each bolt giving you just a second to see before you.

You were drenched now, your beautiful dress now clinging to your body uncomfortably while your skin, which was once warm in color, was now glowing pale from lack of circulation. Shivering uncontrollably, you notice a pair of headlights approaching you, piercing the darkness almost painfully.

With a loud boom, lightning cracks the sky directly in front of you, casting a temporarily bright light on the car. The sudden strike has the car swerving out of control, skidding against the wet road and into a railing as it flips over your head before crashing into the ground with a sickening crunch. A scream tears from your throat and you run to the car, fire emanating from the vehicle as you strain to listen for anything- a cry, a voice. Falling to your knees, you realize there’s only silence.

You crawl around to the front of the car, ignoring the shattered glass that presses into your knees and look into what you believe to be the front of the car. Through the disfigured windshield, you make out two very bloodied figures, slumped in their seats and drained of any warmth in their bodies. Feeling an acidity lurch forward in your throat, you swallow hard and turn away, tightening your stomach uncomfortable as you crawl back to a different spot.

Away from the site, you look down at your hands, horrified to see blood streaming from your arms and down your hands like crimson tears, splashing onto the ground in a haunting fashion. Unable to bear the weight of everything, you close your eyes. In your panic, all sound seems to deafen around you, but the cold downpour of the rain still remains.

Time stretches on endlessly- until a small sound breaks you out of your panic. Opening your eyes, you catch sight of a bottle of pills spilled across the ground. With trembling hands, you pick up the bottle and read the words Valium just before the label begins to blur due to the misting in your eyes. Suddenly, a blood-curdling scream pierces the air and you drop the bottle, gaze jerking upwards.

Standing before you is a girl- practically a mirror of yourself- but her mouth hangs as if it was dislocated and her eyes a pit of darkness. On either side of her stands two shadowy figures, their forms unrecognizable as they slowly encroach upon your space. As they move in on you, the haunting melody begins to play once more.

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“Y/n, are you even listening to me?” Jake asks, poking your side. His voice, once a source of comfort, now a catalyst for a blow out that seemed to be oncoming. Blinking rapidly, you force your eyes on him to focus, “You’re zoning out again!”

“I’m just tired and I have a headache. So please, stop talking.” You plead with the boy, pulling a pair of headphones out from your bag. He frowns, but you do your best to ignore the sparkle in his eyes as you lean into the textbook in front of you, the words blending together in a haze.

It had been six days since that nightmare- six days of on and off sleep, and you were resenting Jake more and more for reasons you couldn’t understand. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, but just being in his presence was upsetting you, and the sound of his voice had you reeling with anxiety. The very scent of him had you thinking of that stupid melody.

Thirty minutes go by without a word from Jake, and you almost forget he’s next to you until his familiar voice interrupts the calm silence once more, “Do you know how to do this question?”

“Jake, I think I’m going to go for a walk.” You say abruptly, shoving your things into your bag. Jake watches in utter confusion as you stand up from the table you were studying and stride away, scratching at his head when he watches your figure leave the area. The headache that had begun to recede now starts to pound at an intensity you’ve never felt.

“Whoah, whoah, whoah! where are you off to in such a rush?” A voice calls, and you turn around to see Heeseung approaching you.

“Not right now, Heeseung.” You say bluntly, moving past him without breaking your hurried strides.

“Hey, talk to me.” His voice is low and calming, and you almost feel your heart flutter at the sincerity in his voice. You hesitate, searching his eyes for a sign of that coldness he’s always had since the first day you met him, but you don’t see it. In fact, you see a warmth in him you don’t recognize, but it weirdly eases the tense coil in your gut.

“I just need some air,” You say, a tremor in your voice. Without letting him respond, you continue walking, but a strong grip on your wrist stops you. “H-Heeseung?!”

“I said, talk to me.” Heeseung’s voice drops even lower now, laced with that familiar intensity you knew so well. His stare is almost predatory like, and you feel your breathing become irregular as you cower under his gaze. “Don’t shut me out, Y/n, I don’t like that.”

You tug on your wrist, testing the waters to see if he’ll let you go, but his grip only tightens. “Heeseung, really. I’m ok, I really just need some air.”

“I’ll come with you then.” His words are gentle, but you knew there was some hidden agenda in the way he spoke to you. He starts to walk forward, stringing you along with ease like a silent declaration that you belonged to him.

“Alone, Heeseung.”

“Y/n, you need me, stop fighting it!” Normally, you would feel frustration bubbling beneath you, but his insistence almost has you flushing at the cheeks. Still, the desire for solitude held priority over everything else, outweighing your flutter of confusion.

“Heeseung, she said she wants to be alone right now!” another voice calls and you turn to see Jake. Irritation flares through you, fueling your short resolve.

“Jake, seriously, leave me alone.”

With Heeseung’s attention elsewhere, you seize the opportunity to pull out of his grip and walk off, quickening your pace enough so they don’t run after you. “Watch it, Sim.” Heeseung hisses, fury simmering in his words when he sees your back turned to him.

“You need to listen to what she says.” he snaps back, crossing his arms in defiance as he balances his own irritation. The air around them charges with a tension so thick a knife could cut it.

“I think you should listen to yourself first. Seems like there’s trouble in paradise.” Heeseung’s words drip with disdain as he pokes fun at Jake. “Not so buddy buddy anymore, I see.” Suppressing the urge to smirk, Heeseung turns around and walks away from Jake, leaving him in a can of frustration fixing to burst at any moment.

Back in your dorm, you find that your irritation only deepend with each step you took to get back. Desperate for some relief, you grab a Red Bull and a bottle of vodka, mixing them into a tumblr in attempts at creating a potent cocktail. You damn sure didn’t accomplish any studying today at the Jeffrey building with Jake by your side, and you know you’d need more than just a little caffeine to power you through the night. So you hoped the vodka would keep you pleasantly buzzed as you hit the books, another all nighter.

Settling into bed, you place your laptop on the lap desk Yeji convinced you to buy earlier in the semester, and dive into your studies. For a few hours, you pat yourself on the back as it seems that your concoction is working wonders. But slowly, the weight of staying up for days pulls you under, and you drift off.

Eventually, your nap is interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. “Who is it?” You call out, wiping away the cold sweat that clung onto your skin. Another nightmare- though the knocking on your door kept you from finishing this one.

“Jake.”

You sigh, bracing yourself before telling him to come in. “Why are you here so late?” You ask, pointing to your digital clock which reads 12 a.m.

“Why are you avoiding me?”

You glance around your room which was softly illuminated by your glow-in-the-dark stars on your ceiling. “What are you talking about?”

“You haven’t been talking to me as much. You’ve been snapping at me a lot, avoiding my calls and texts, and it’s always me initiating the conversations recently.” His words come out in a rush, and for the first time since the nightmares started, you finally feel yourself sympathizing with him.

With a sigh, you sit up in your bed and cross your legs, patting the space next to you for him to come sit. Maybe it was time for you to finally tell him what was going on, you could only keep running for so long. “Jake, I’ve been having these awful nightmares that have been keeping me up at night. It’s been ruining my sleep, so I’ve been pulling away from everyone recently. It’s not just you.”

Your words offer only a small measure of comfort towards Jake, his tense shoulders only half sagging, “That’s not everything, Y/n. You’re not telling me enough.”

“I don’t know what else to tell you, Jake. Really.”

It’s quiet for a moment, each second stretching out as Jake thinks about what to say. “Okay,” He says softly before moving closer to you. His thighs touch yours as he speaks in a much lower voice now, “Y/n, just promise that you’ll talk to me next time. No secrets, I miss you too much.”

His words seem to stir something deep within you, and you feel that familiar warmth of affection you had held for him before all this chaos and confusion. The tenderness in his gaze- it felt almost foreign now, like you didn’t recognize him. But his words brought that familiarity back to you almost instantly. And he missed you, and that struck a chord within you that had your pulse beating at tenfold.

Without even thinking, you bring your hand to his cheek, cupping it gently and running a thumb over the plush of his skin. He closes his eyes, leaning into the touch with a sigh. “Jake…” you whisper, feeling the warmth of his cheek send butterflies through your body. In a matter of seconds, you close the distance between you, pressing your lips softly against his.

The feeling of his lefts against yours felt almost natural, as if some hidden version of yourself had already loved Jake in another world. So for a moment, you stay like that, your lips lingering on his in a silent exchange of intimacy. When Jake finally pulls back, he doesn’t go far- his forehead opting to rest against yours as his hands cup your face with the same tenderness in his gaze.

“Y/n…” he breaths, looking into your eyes. You match his gaze with an intensity you’ve never felt before and he pushes his lips onto yours again, this time with a passion almost desperate, like he’s been waiting lifetimes for this. “You drive me crazy,” he murmurs between open mouthed kisses, his voice rough with longing. He grazes his tongue along your lower lip and you let him slip it in almost immediately, gasping when the wet muscle tangles with your own.

The sensation leaves you breathless and you weave your fingers through his hair in an attempt to deepen the kiss. He shifts his hands to the back of your head, guiding you down onto your bed so he can slot himself between your legs. With his body pressed between your core, you let out the softest moan, leaving the space in Jake’s sweats tightening. “Jake- I need you…” You please, pulling at his hair.

He lets out a string of groans, instinctively grinding against you as you drag your fingers through his dark locks. “Don’t say that, I won't be able to control myself.” He says as he dips down to press kisses on your neck.

“I don’t want you to control yourself. Take me.” You whisper, your face buried into his hair.

“You’re killing me, Y/n.” He whispers, his hands slipping underneath your camisole. His cold hands ghost over your breasts, leaving you to shudder at the temperature difference when he finally cups them in his large hands. “You’re so cute when you shake…” He squeezes them firmly, flicking his thumb over your nipple. The unexpected action elicits a high-pitched moan out of you, a sound that seems to only encourage him further.

With a deliberate slowness, Jake pushes your camisole up to your neck, his eyes devouring the site of you laying bare before him. “So pretty…” He murmurs, his tongue tracing the shape of his lips. As he takes in every detail, he moves one of his hands down to your shorts, slipping his fingers under your waist band. “Can I?” He asks, his voice dripping with restraint.

You nod quickly, biting your lip with impatience. “Just fucking touch me already.” You manage to squeak, the tremble in your voice drawing out a low chuckle from Jake as he slides your panties to the side, quickly inserting a finger into your wet cunt.

“Oh my God, Y/n. You’re soaking.” He groans as his finger collects your juices, pumping in and out with lewd sounds. His finger moves in and out with an almost embarrassing ease, the sensation sending sparks through you as you cry out. Receptive to your body’s needs, he inserts a second, then a third finger, quickening his pace. The way your hips lift off the bed to meet his hand has his cock twitching under the restraints of his briefs and sweats, begging to be released.

“Jake- I’m gonna cum!” You cry out, feeling your walls clench around his slender fingers.

“That’s it, angel.” He praises, curling his fingers just right as he feels your walls spasm around his fingers. “Good girl… Just like that.”

His pace slows down significantly as he lets you ride out your orgasm on his fingers, your breathing erratic as his digits continue to bend randomly just out of plain fun. “You did so good for me, angel.” He murmurs as he slips his fingers out of you, cleaning them off with his mouth. The sight alone has you shivering, and before you can speak, he’s got you trapped in a lewd kiss.

You taste yourself on him as your tongues connect, the idea of your arousal being shared in such an intimate kiss is intoxicating and you can’t help but want even more. “Jake…”

“What is it, baby?”

A flush spreads across your cheeks, but at this point, you’re too desperate to care. “I need to feel you,” You reach your hands out for added effect, “I need to feel your cock inside of me.” The whine in your voice is almost embarrassing, but he only lets out a pleased hum in response.

Jake pushes off of you just enough to strip you of your shorts and panties. His eyes never leave yours as he reaches down to push his sweats off next, his briefs following right after. You hold your breath when you see his cock spring free, pink and achingly hard due to Jake’s neglect towards himself.

“See how hard you’ve made me, angel?” He whispers, wrapping a hand around himself. His eyes don’t leave yours as he gives himself a few strokes, smirking when he watches your eyes glisten at the sight.

“Hurry up, Jake.” You say, grabbing his wrist. With a soft laugh, Jake lines himself up with your entrance and presses against you, drawing out your desperation. “Please, I need you so bad.” You beg, wiggling your hips for friction.

He sucks in a breath, feeling the pressure of your pussy rub against his tip suddenly, “Be careful, angel.” He says, pulling back slightly to give himself a few more strokes before finally entering. Inch by inch, he pushes himself into you, closely observing your face for any signs of pain. Eventually, he bottoms out and waits for your signal to move.

You tap on his shoulder twice, your silent signal for him to start thrusting. With a relieved sigh, he begins to move his hips back and forth, relishing in the way your walls hug his cock so well. The stimulation of his member rubbing against your walls has you seeing white, and you swear you can practically feel each vein moving against you as he ruts into you.

As time goes on, the snaps of his hips become sharper and sharper. “Augh- Y/n… I’m gonna cum.” He pants, the thrusts becoming messier by the minute.

You can barely manage to cry out a response due to the speed at which he’s thrusting into you, so you just moan instead, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him down to you. Latching your lips onto his, you feel his hips stutter in rhythm before he stops, a sudden warmth beginning to fill you up.

The stillness of his hips allows you to catch your breath as you smile against him, your arms wrapped around his neck. “That felt so nice, angel.” He whispers into the crook of your neck, slowly pulling out of you and plopping onto the space beside you.

With him laying next to you, his face so close to yours, your mind starts to flood with thoughts that aren’t clouded with lust. His features are softer now, no longer laced with an intensity of desire that you had seen just minutes before. You never thought you would find yourself in a position like this with your childhood best friend, but in this moment, it feels so right. Like it was always supposed to be this way.

All that tension and anger you had felt towards him seemed to have melted away the second he said he missed you. You don’t understand why there was so much resentment to be had in the first place, not after all the nightmares. They were so vivid and dark, so specifically intimate in regards to the pain and loss. You felt as though you would’ve been more keen on reaching out to Jake for some comfort due to the intensity of those nightmares, though to your surprise it was the opposite. But it didn’t make sense, so you could only rationalize your sudden resentment towards him due to your lack of sleep. But it didn’t matter now because everything felt so far away suddenly, all that bitterness and anger- as if it belonged to someone else this whole time.

Right now, you felt an infatuation so strong it almost terrified you- like you would do anything for Jake.

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Your resentment towards Jake has subdued quite a bit since yesterday, though you have yet to speak about what transpired between the two of you since last night. Maybe it was the awkward tension that now lingered between you, finally softening the angry heat you unfairly pushed onto his agenda for so long- you no longer yearned to stray far from his presence in that same way anymore. Still, it was clear that the dynamic between you and your best friend had changed since yesterday, and Heeseung had noticed.

“Y/n, are you feeling better after yesterday?” Heeseung asks, shifting his attention away from the powerpoint on his laptop to catch the subtle exhaustion on your face.

It was just you, Jake, and Heeseung sitting at a table located in the Cornox building, working together to complete the finishing details of your econ project. You dreaded the moment you had to meet up with them today, scoring three energy drinks before coming here.

“I guess I am, yeah,” you reply, though you don’t feel confident in your answer. Exhaustion sticks to you like cling wrap, an annoying pest that won’t go away no matter how much caffeine you ingest. The little sleep you had managed to acquire from falling asleep while studying with that alcoholic concoction in your blood offered you little to no respite; your mind still tangled with the memory of the nightmares and the intimacy you shared with your best friend.

Last night’s nightmare may have been cut short by Jake’s knocking, but it was no less brutal than the last one. The memory of it lingers, raw and fresh in your mind as you replay the scene in your head- a boy and a girl screaming at one another, their voices cracking while that same damn melody plays in the background. They were fighting, though you couldn’t remember why. But it didn’t matter, the fight itself wasn’t what disturbed you; it was the grief that had your heart sinking six feet deep that was all encompassing as you listened to their choked sobs.

The girl’s voice in particular was especially painful, strained and choked with an anguish that felt too real to your own. Every word was like a drag, and it was clear that she was on the edge of something devastating, irreversible. Somehow, you knew that she was losing the will to keep fighting.

You snap out of your thoughts, realizing Heeseung’s eyes are locked onto yours a bit too intently, a dark cloud shrouding his irises. Clearing your throat, you shift your focus down to your laptop as you feel a rush of heat travel to your cheek, Jake stirring in his seat across from you.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Heeseung says in a whisper, his voice laced with an intensity that sends a ripple of uncertainty through you. His hand lands on your arm and he gently rubs it up and down, but the gesture only makes you more uncomfortable, like he’s staking a claim on you. “But I can tell there’s still something on your mind. You know you can always talk to me, right?”

You give him a reassuring smile, hoping to ease his mind, “Really, I’m doing fine.” you tell him, ignoring the unease settling in your stomach. You're hopeful that your response will be enough to quell his concern, but it only seems to encourage him to pry further.

“I’m just worried about you… Your happiness is what matters the most to me.” His hand slides down to yours, and before you can pull away, he interlocks his fingers with yours, the coolness of his hand masking the warmth of your own. The gesture feels intoxicatingly intimate, and you freeze at his sudden possessiveness.

Jake’s gaze lingers over the sight of your interlocked hands and he freezes. Clenching his jaw, he forces himself to tear his gaze away before beginning to restlessly tap his fingers on the table, a pathetic attempt to calm his irritation.

“I appreciate it, really.” You murmur, pulling out of his grip. “I’m going to go get a snack, do you guys want anything?” Heeseung bites his lip before settling back into his seat, though his eyes stay sharp as he focuses on your figure. When nobody responds, you pad away, eager to escape the escalating tension growing in the air.

“What are you doing with her? You’re making her uncomfortable!” Jake says, breaking the silence when he sees your figure turn the corner.

Heeseung only smirks, ignoring the glare Jake shoots at him, “I’m not making her uncomfortable, Jake. This is what she needs, and it sure as hell isn't you.” Heeseung stares at the boy in an almost taunting way before continuing, “So whatever the hell you did with her last night? I’d suggest you take a step back before regretting it.”

“Do you not hear yourself? You sound crazy, Heeseung.”

“Crazy?” He murmurs, his voice dripping with dark amusement, “Maybe, but that’s what devotion looks like, Jake. I wouldn’t expect you to understand it.”

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Despite his best wishes, your resentment towards Jake returned in the following weeks following his encounter with Heeseung. As you grew closer with Heeseung, the more calls and texts you ignored from Jake. Your resentment and anger with Jake came back stronger then ever, and there was no amount of explaining or convincing that would manage to make a difference. Every interaction he had with you just felt like you were pulling away even further.

Jake slumps into the couch at the mere thought of you again, staring at the floor as his friends talk about a variety of subjects. “Jake, I know the floor’s interesting but you really need to stop staring at it.” Sunghoon said, flicking Jake on the arm.

“Me and the floor are doing just fine, thanks,” Jake mutters, grabbing a pillow to hug close to him.

“Then why are you staring?” Jungwon asks, nudging him in the side.

Jake ignores his friend. “I’m not,” he grumbles.

“What happened to staring at Y/n?” Niki teases, tossing a throw pillow at Jake to get him to look up.

Jake scowls, suddenly regretting that night he struck up a conversation with them at that party. “First of all, I don’t stare at Y/n. And second of all, nothing happened. We’ve just been busy with midterms and everything.” Jake focuses on keeping his voice neutral as he explains to his friends why he seems so out of it, but they don’t seem to be convinced. He wasn’t lying, nothing really had happened after they slept together. They didn’t even talk about it, but somehow that resentment came creeping back while Heeseung slithered his way in.

Jay and Niki exchange a look, “You don’t look very busy staring at that floor-”

“I’M NOT STARING AT THE FLOOR!” He snaps, patience breaking in two.

Sunghoon’s dorm room erupts into a fit of laughter as Jake does his best to ignore the vibrations of his friend’s joy, trying to calm himself. “I’m just thinking of the best way to get home this fall break. I’m going to visit my family.”

“I think there’s a bus route that passes right by your neighborhood,” Jay says, his chest heaving as he calms down from laughing so hard, “It’s like a five-hour journey though.”

“Yeah, that’s the only issue… the bus ride is gonna suck ass.”

Jake hated riding buses. They always made him motion sick, and even more than that, there was too much time to think when the journeys stretched past 30 minutes. He knew as well as anyone else that there were things weighing heavily on his mind, things he’d rather not confront. But there was no other way to get home. His car was stuck at his parents’ place, and he wasn’t going to spend a break on campus where you and Heeseung would probably be around. So he’d have to make do with the bumpy, five-hour ride.

And bumpy it was. Long too, almost nauseating had it not been for the dimenhydrinate he popped into his mouth twenty minutes before getting on the bus, though it did nothing to quell the sick feeling in his chest when he thought about you and Heeseung. You weren’t even talking to him now, Heeseung was always around to pull you away from him when he got close enough to speak to you. Jake couldn’t deny but admit he felt helpless around Heeseung. There was nothing to do but hope that Heeseung would somehow mess up and that you’d come crawling back to him. With his head against the rumbling window, Jake decides he’d rather not spend the rest of the bus ride dwelling on things he couldn’t change, and shuts his eyes instead.

The plan was for Jake to stay home for a week. Maybe that’d be enough time for you to cold down and figure out whatever it was that you were dealing with. And maybe Jake could even use that time to screw his head on straight too. But more than that, he wanted this time to spend with his family and Layla, his dog that he misses so much. So he welcomed the distraction warmly, his family and dog being a bittersweet reminder of life before Heeseung.

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A week has passed now since Jake came home, and there was still no sign of action from your side, much to Jake’s dismay. The silence between the two of you was deafening, and the flicker of hope that Jake was holding onto was starting to dissipate. It frustrated him to no end not knowing where he stood in your life, and the lack of response to his plethora of texts had him pulling his hair out.

Deciding against boarding the same insufferable bus ride again, he opts to drive the car his dad bought him for his 16th birthday back to campus instead. As he prepares to leave, his mom waves him off at the door. “I’ll see you guys during Winter break,” he says with a forced smile, “Yes, I’ll tell Y/n you miss her. Yes, I will ask if she wants to come visit.”

Jake winces as he says your name and draws in a long breath when he sees his mom reenter his home. With one last look at his childhood home, he starts up his car and travels back to campus, the long and lonely journey giving him some temporary space to breathe.

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“Y/n, isn’t this music box pretty?” Lia calls, waving a wooden box delicately in her hands towards you. You pause, setting the clothes in your hands back down on the table and walk towards her, focusing your gaze on the box in her hands. The box is beautifully worn, Its edges carved with a delicate gold and the mahogany wood bruised and marked by years of handling. Handing the box to you, Lia nods her head in encouragement as if to tell you to open it.

Slowly, you pry the box open, revealing an interior lined with a plush red velvety interior. In the center was a mock stage that sat a delicately crafted figure- a woman sitting before a grand piano, as if to showcase her playing the melody that was to come from the box. “This is beautiful,” you murmur, raising the box closer to your face.

“I think you need to wind it up,” Ryujin says, peeking over.

You flip the box over, closing the lid shut and winding up the cool metal of the notch on the back. With anticipation, you open the lid one more time and watch as the figure that was sitting comfortably on the stage begins to rotate slowly. Then, the melody begins- soft and delicate.

The music plays out softly, but it swells the surrounding area in a dream, wrapping you in a haunting embrace. Each note carries a whisper from a place you can’t quite reach, stirring something unfamiliar within you. As the tune unfolds further, grief begins to settle deep beneath your skin and you start to feel goosebumps prick at your arms.

This melody sounds awfully familiar. Closing your eyes, you wrack your brain, listening intently in hopes of hearing that one note that may resonate within you and tell you why it sounded so familiar. This melody… It was the same one from that dream. The shadowy figures, the spotlight, the grief… These same notes brought forth the same emotions from that dream, a subtle reminder of something buried yet not forgotten. The box suddenly feels heavier than it needs to, almost as if it’s absorbing the weight of your emotions now, each note twisting a blade further into your chest.

A disturbing chill runs down your spine as you realize that this wasn’t just some music box, but a piece of your past. A fragment of your past- one you couldn’t remember. “Y/n, are you alright?” A voice draws you out from your inner turmoil, and you turn to see Ryujin looking at you with concern.

You give her a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes, waving her concern off quickly, “I’m ok, just so invested in the music. I think I’m gonna buy the box, actually.” You tell her, tucking it into your basket. Ryujin returns your response with a nod, though her eyebrows remain furrowed. With the music box tucked away in your basket, you finish shopping at the vintage shop with the girls until they’re satisfied. You do your best to try and stay present, though the haunting melody of the music box stays playing in a loop in your head, each note barely scratching an itch you can’t quite reach.

You’re in a daze as you reach the register, whether it be from the lack of sleep or the sudden revelation of the melody, you’re not too sure. When you leave, the girls are discussing amongst themselves which store they want to visit next, but you’re quick to wave them off and tell them you’re heading home. “Just feeling tired, that’s all.” You tell them, but you knew that was a lie. You needed to speak to Jake.

You hadn’t spoken to Jake since break had started, which had been a week and a half now. You’re aware that your resentment had led him to going back home for break, though Jay had reached out to you recently to let you know he came back to campus yesterday.

Ever since your nightmares had started, you could feel this growing resentment towards him, whether you could explain it or not, you just couldn’t stand to see him. Though there was a period of time in which the walls around you had fallen down for just a few days after a flurry of emotions led you to sleeping with him. It didn’t last long as Heeseung slipped in and rebuilt that wall brick by brick with a possessiveness that everyone except you could see. But this melody, it irked you to reach out to him, so you did. You don’t waste a moment texting him to come over as soon as you get back to your dorm.

His reply is almost instant: on my way.

He’s knocking on your door within minutes, not bothering to use his key in your room because honestly, he’s not sure he has that liberty right now. You call out to let him know to come in, and when he does, you see a sad puppy eyed looking Jake enter. Old you would’ve teased him about it and pulled him into a tight embrace, but now, you’re showing him your music box almost immediately.

Without a word, you wind up the familiar notch and open the lid, letting it fill the small space. As it does, you watch as Jake’s expressions shift almost immediately, his eyes darkening and his body going rigid. “You know this melody, don’t you?”

He walks over to your bed, sitting on the edge. With a swallow, he nods his head before dropping it into his hands. He clenches his jaw, knowing you won’t talk until he explains himself, “This is the same song Alice was going to play that night.”

“Alice?” You echo, your confusion only growing, “What the hell are you talking about? Who the fuck is Alice?”

He looks away, his eyes searching the room as if to look for an escape. His hands run up and down his thighs in an anxious manner as his breathing quickens, “Y/n, it’s not easy for me to explain… I don’t know if you’ll trust me after, or even believe me for that matter.”

You can feel the frustration rising and you scoff, “I’m past caring at this point, Jake. I’ve been having nightmares for weeks.” You bring your hands to your hair, your eyes misting with tears. “I can’t sleep, can’t think straight. And this fucking melody- It’s driving me insane.”

Jake’s eyes flicker with a hint of sympathy, but he holds back the urge to reach out and cradle your cheeks with his large hands. Instead, he holds your frustrated gaze with his own, “Y/n, Heeseung and I… We’re Guardian Angels. Or, we were.”

You feel a wave of disbelief ripple through your body and you let out a pathetic laugh, “Shut up.”

“Fine.” He deadpans, his jaw tightening in annoyance as he crosses his arms. God, you knew he could be stubborn, but you didn’t know he was this stubborn. You smack his arm and he winces, rolling his eyes before continuing. “A long time ago, Heeseung and I were Guardian Angels, best friends too. We were assigned to protect a girl named Alice. But Y/n, we failed her. Our selfishness blinded us and she died.” He pauses, voice wavering as if he’s fighting to continue. A harsh weight settles across your chest, and you struggle to keep eye contact with your best friend, “Our selfish actions led to the death of her parents, and she killed herself after because of it.

“When she died, we were kicked out of Heaven and sent here as mortals with a curse on our shoulders as punishment.” Jake tries his best to explain, pausing at awkward moments and clicking his tongue when he can’t find the right words, “You’re Alice, or really just her reincarnation- carrying bits and pieces of her memories. I think these nightmares are your way of regaining your memories. It was kind of like this for me as well.”

When he presses his lips together, you know he’s finished speaking and your heart swells up in anger. You stare at him, mind swirling in a mess of thoughts as your voice gets caught in your throat. “So you- you knew?” Your voice shakes as you stand up from your bed, “You knew this whole time I was having these dreams- these fucking nightmares, that I was reliving the past of someone’s life that isn’t mine? You didn’t say anything?”

Jake lowers his head, tears pricking his eyes now, “I… I thought I was protecting you.” he whispers.

“Protecting me?” You laugh obnoxiously loud, the lack of sleep hitting you like a truck. You fall to the ground, clutching your bed side table for balance, practically sobbing hysterically now, “Well you did the damn opposite, Jake.” The way his name falls from your lips has him physically flinching. “I’ve been suffering, doing everything I can to not fall asleep. My grades are falling apart because I can’t stay awake in class long enough to pay attention.”

Jake stands off from your bed and crouches down next to you, placing his hand on your arm in an attempt to console you, but his sudden touch only has you recoiling backwards. “I was being selfish, Y/n. Please, I love you.” He cries, “I didn’t want to lose you again.”

“Lose who?” You ask, letting out a bitter laugh as you stand up. “You never let me decide, did you?”

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You pound on Heeseung’s door, not a care in the world for the other rooms closely neighboring his own. Your own festering anger practically bubbling up your throat, you continue your assault on the wooden door until a tired looking Heeseung opens up. “What the hell-” He starts, but you shove him inside, slamming his door behind you.

His dorm room is an assortment of black and red, feeling more like a dark lair than a college dorm. This was your first time in his dorm, and you noticed how he took it upon himself to cover the bright white walls with crimson themed posters and red LEDs to decorate its borders.

Ignoring the creepily gothic trinkets that adorned his desk, you approach him with anger. “Who the fuck is Alice?” You seethe, shoving him onto his desk chair.

His own responding smirk has you fighting to not punch him right then and there, “I see you spoke to Jake,” His voice is soft, almost too soft to be speaking to someone approaching him with such anger. Standing up from his chair, he steps towards you, the heat from his body engorging your flame, igniting it further. “Tell me, vixen… What did little Jakey tell you?”

“He told me everything,” You take a deep breath in as you let the words tumble out of you in a rush, “How you two used to be angels, that you both made some ‘selfish decision’ with some girl named Alice. And that I’m-” Your voice catches, and Heeseung brings his hand up to your chin.

“Go on, continue.”

“He said that I’m her.”

Heeseung’s smirk seems to drop for a second, surprise flashing across his face, but he’s quick to recover. “Selfish decisions,” he says to himself, voice thick with amusement, “So that’s what he calls it.” He pauses to let out a bitter laugh, pulling away from you despite your inner reluctance. “Did he tell you that we were actually in love? Did he tell you what loving Alice cost me?”

The look on your face only confirms Heeseung’s answer. “Jakey, so naive… And did he tell you that he loved you, too?”

You nod, your own admission twisting something inside of you. His smirk only widens, and you feel your anger bubble further as you wait for Heeseung to speak again. “Oh, sweetie.” he whispers, “Jake doesn’t love you. He loves Alice.”

“You’re lying…” You say, stumbling back as you process his words.

“Am I?” He asks. “I have reason to believe that Jake didn’t tell you the full story.”

You avoid his gaze, closing your eyes in an attempt to shut out the reality before you. Observing your delicate state, Heeseung steps closer, catching you around the waist and pulling you in with a strong grip that sends goosebumps along your skin. “Michael, or what some may know him as the Archangel, transformed us into mortals. Though Jake got to stay linked to his angel hierarchy, I was unfairly condemned into life as a mortal devil.

You look up at Heeseung, briefly fazed by the intimate distance he has put you in before stammering, “What- what do you mean?”

“What I mean, is that Heaven is not always, just. That I am the one paying for Jake’s sins when it was him who was the direct cause of Alice’s tragedy.”

“I don’t believe that, Jake would never do such a thing.” Despite the words that fall from your mouth, a gnawing doubt creeps into your mind, making it harder for you to believe them yourself.

Heeseung’s gaze sharpens, an enticing calmness in his voice, “Y/n, you’re the reincarnation of Alice, which means you’re here for one thing and one thing only.”

Before you can utter a response, he pulls you in closer, his arms wrapping around you tighter than they ever have. His hips are pressing against yours now, causing your breath to catch in your throat. “I don’t understand…” you murmur, unable to tear your eyes away from his lustful gaze.

His eyes lower, his intense a seeping poison as he pierces your soul, “You’re here to do what Alice couldn’t,” His proximity overwhelms you as his lips hover just inches from yours, “We can be immortals together, we just need a sacrifice.” His voice is almost desperate now as he talks about immortality, a wish only mortals could ever dream of.

The room almost spins as you process Hesseung’s words, your mind reeling with a plethora of thoughts. “Immortals? Both of us?” You question, feeling faint as the revelation of your reality slams into you.

“Y/n, you’ve never just been a human, not entirely. You’re Alice’s reincarnation, and you carry an ability no other human mortal does.” He says almost matter of factly, like you were supposed to just understand that at face value. “If we end Jake’s life, we’ll earn the right to escape our own. You’ll be free from this nightmare.”

“I just don’t understand. What happens to us if he dies?”

His breath catches in his throat as he thinks of his next words carefully. “We won't ascend back to being angels, our path is different.” Heeseung’s eyes darken as he answers your question.

“Different how?”

“We’ll become immortal devils, Y/n. But we’ll be with each other forever, knowing that we avenged Alice.” With Heeseung’s answer, you swear you could feel the room get colder. His proposition wasn’t just about getting revenge, but a lifetime of something eternally darker. “It’s either this, or you both face a life of torture chosen by fate.”

A harsh shiver rips through you as you realize the weight of what Heeseung is asking of you. A surge of conflicting emotions crashes through you, but there’s something darker that simmers just beneath the surface. A part of you is almost intrigued by the idea. Despite the alarm bells sounding in the back of your head, you find yourself suppressing the sounds, nodding before you can think. “Am I really just here to get revenge for Alice? Is that all I’m here for?”

Heeseung’s lips curl into a smirk, leaning even closer than he was before. Now, with his breath fanning against your lips, you can’t help but press your thighs against each other as a warmth spreads below. “The world may have made you an instrument for her revenge… but I can give you purpose. Let me make you mine. Give me all of you.”

With a sudden and intense pull, he presses his lips against yours fiercely, the kiss rough and urgent as though he was marking you- claiming you. You respond with equal fervor, your arms pulling him in by the neck as you open your mouth, letting his tongue greet yours. As your tongues fight for dominance, his hands slide down to your ass, gripping them with a strength that you’re sure will leave bruises in the morning. “You drive me insane/” He growls, pulling away to shove you onto his bed.

“Take your clothes off.” He commands, stripping himself of his shirt, his belt and pants coming off right after with practiced ease. Blinded by desire, you follow his lead and slip out of your clothes, feeling overwhelmed by his gaze as it rakes over your bare skin with an unrestrained hunger. “You’re going to do exactly what I tell you, do you understand?”

You manage a weak nod, though it doesn’t satisfy him in the slightest. His hand comes down on your ass, a loud slap echoing in his dorm room. “Use your words, slut.” He growls, his voice rough with callus.

“Yes, Heeseung,” you whimper, your voice low with submission as the burn from his hand begins to sear through your body.

Satisfied with your response, he crawls over you, his bare chest brushing against you before flipping you over onto your stomach. Without warning, he aligns himself with your hole and thrusts himself forward, using your slick as lube. As his length pushes into you, a gasp rips from your throat upon feeling his member violently stretch you out all at once. “Hee, it’s- it’s too much!” You gasp, a sob of pleasure and pain wracking your body as you’re forced to yield to his cock filling you up completely.

“Fucking take it, slut.” He curses, slamming his hips into yours at a savage pace, disregarding your pleading. With a groan of pleasure, he leans forward to press his chest into your back, forcing you into his mattress. He continues his relentless abuse on your pussy, his balls slapping against your core as he thrusts in and out. “You’re doing so well, y/n.” He praises, pressing kisses on your ear, noticing the clench of your pussy let up as you finally relax around him.

He finally gets off of you, giving you a little more room to breathe “Look at you, sucking me in so well,” he coos, leaning back so he can watch his cock slip in and out of you. In an act of pure lust, Heeseung reaches forward to grab your arms, pinning them behind you while using his other hand to press your head further into his bed. “Taking me so well,” he moans, reaching the hilt of your cervix as he adjusts himself, allowing him to push deeper into you.

With your sobs muffling into his sheets, Heeseung lets go of you and wraps his arms around your waist to flip you, quickly aligning himself between your legs. With a practiced quickness, he shoves himself back into your swollen cunt, his own moans mixing with yours. With his pelvis kissing the back of your thighs, you desperately claw at his back for purchase, “S-slow down, Heeseung!” You beg, feeling a coil tighten around in your stomach.

“Just a little longer, vixen.” He encourages, snapping his hips into you even faster.

“I’m gonna cum, Hee!” You clench around his member, your vision going white as a wave of pleasure crashes over you. He doesn’t stop though, in fact, he pushes your legs together to lay against his shoulder, picking your ass up off the bed to buck into you even deeper.

“Fuck, just hold on a little bit more, vixen. I’m almost there,” he says as he clenches his jaw, feeling the way his balls clench up in anticipation. In just a matter of seconds, he’s emptying his load into you as he presses desperate kisses into your calf, lightly biting you in between each kiss.

A shiver of pleasure runs through you as his warmth fills your core, and you close your eyes, savoring the sensation as he lets himself soften inside of you. Moments later, he carefully pulls out, running to grab a towel so he can catch whatever drips out of you. His touch is gentle as he tends to you, softly prodding at your swollen folds as he collects his arousal into the towel. Once he’s finished, he slips into a pair of loungewear and tosses you one of his shirts and your panties, his scent overwhelming your senses.

Settling back into bed, he opens his arms out for you to crawl into, and you do so with a large smile. Laying your head on his chest, you let out a long sigh of content and rest your hand on his abdomen. “Y/n…” he says, tangling his fingers through your hair. You hum out a response, closing your eyes. “Will you join Hell with me?”

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A piercing ringtone jolts Jake from a heavy but dreamless sleep, the screen of his phone lighting up to illuminate the room. He reaches his hand out from the warmth of his comforter to fumble around his bedside, searching blindly until he finds his phone. “What the…?” He mutters, squinting at the brightness as he picks it up to check the caller ID.

“Jake?” Your voice trembles through the speaker, hardly recognizable through the thick layer of distress.

Jake blinks, his grogginess fading away fast as he registers the shakiness in your voice. “Y/n? What’s going on? Are you okay?”

A broken sob tears through you as you respond, twisting his gut in half, “I’m sorry I blew up on you,” you murmur, your voice thick with regret, “I went out with the girls to some club to let off some steam… But I can’t find them now- I just want to go home.” A choked sob catches at your throat, and Jake winces.

“Where are you? Send me your location, I’m calling an Uber.”

“No!” You cry, your voice dripping in desperation. “The storm is too heavy for Uber to be in service right now.” He looks out through his window where rain streaks the glass in torrents, driven hard by the wind that shakes the reinforced glass. “Can’t you come get me? I really need you…”

A heavy silence follows on the line as Jake listens to the heavy thunder rumble through his building, a menacing growl undercutting his hesitation. He knew it’d be dangerous to go out and get you in this weather, but the thought of leaving you out there- drunk and alone, that mere thought had guilt eating away at his chest. “Shoot, okay. I’m on my way.”

Grabbing the first hoodie he sees on the floor, he runs out of the door, not bothering to slip out of his pajamas. As he slams the door to his car and starts the engine, another flash of lightning illuminates the campus, casting an electric glow in front of him. A haunting tremor rips through him as the all too familiar scene unfolds in front of thim. This is for you, focus Jake.

He grips the wheel till his knuckles turn white, pulling out of the residential parking lot until he reaches the rain-soaked road, just 8 miles until he’d reach you.

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Miles away from where Jake’s car is likely struggling through the storm, you lie nestled in Heeseung’s arm, his steady warmth a stark contrast to the violence of the world outside. The faint glow of your phone illuminates your face in the darkness of Heeseung’s dorm room, casting shadows on Heeseung’s gaze as he studies you intently, a glint of pride mingled with something far darker.

“You did so well, my sweet vixen.” He murmurs, his voice dripping with a seductive danger. His lips graze the side of your head as he places a chaste kiss to the side of your head, but it's charged with an intense desire. He lifts his head to gaze out of his window, watching the storm rage on with a deeply satisfied expression, his hand trailing down your arm to trace slow and deliberate patterns along your bare arm.

The storm outside has grown merciless now, lightning ripping across the sky with a savage frequency. You watch as the harsh light outlines Heeseung’s sharp features, presenting his expression to you in an almost otherworldly glow. You bite your lip, a conflicting storm brewing in your chest as you dwell upon the twisted satisfaction in knowing your vengeance is shared with Jake now, but also the guilt that tears at your resolve knowing you’ve put your best friend in utter danger.

As your mind starts to waver, Heeseung flickers his gaze downward in time to catch your doubt, his thumb tracing along your cheek in order to ground you. “Don’t think about it,” he whispers, his voice soft though commanding, “This is what he deserved, for ruining Alice. For ruining you.”

His words cut through you like a blade, a bitter reminder of why you’re here- why you even exist. You were never meant to be anything more than an instrument for a dead girl’s revenge, forged by the sins of Jake who let his forbidden love blind him from his duties. His desperate selfishness was your reason for existence, and it made you feel like a curse.

An anger ripples through you as you remind yourself that your fate was decided long before you were even born, but you tell yourself that being bound to Heeseung through a shared destiny that could only be fulfilled by Jake’s death would give you that liberation you so desperately needed. Even though your immortality would be granted in the form of becoming devils, you knew that you’d finally be free. Released from this tornado of a mess you didn’t sign up for.

Heeseung’s grip tightens around your wrist, pulling you in closer. His gaze sears into you as though he can see every doubt crossing your mind. “Stop thinking about him, stop thinking about the stupid deal. Just look at me.” The roughness in his voice forces your gaze on his and you note a darkness clouding his vision as he speaks. “We are meant to be together, no matter what happens- so stop thinking about everything.”

This would all be over soon. In the blink of an eye, you and Heeseung would grow horns and descend from the mortal world, bound by the blood of an angel, forever entwined in a twisted act of vengeance.

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It’s only a few hours later when you receive a call from an unknown number, pulling you away from Heeseung’s warm embrace. “Hello?”

“Hi, is this Y/n L/n?” A voice asks from the speaker's phone.

“Speaking.”

You look to Heeseung and place the phone on speaker, putting the device between you two. “You were listed as the first emergency contact for Sim Jaeyun. We regret to inform you that he passed away in a fatal car accident on road 29 about two hours ago.”

The voice continues to drone on about legalities and visiting hours in the morgue, but you don’t listen. The voice on the phone pales in comparison to the sound of your now throbbing heartbeat as you fixate your gaze on the linen bed sheets of Heeseung’s pathetically made dorm bed, waiting for the call to hang up. When it does, Heeseung draws his fingers under your jaw, forcing you to look at him. “Y/n…”

You look at his eyes in search of something- anything. You didn’t know what you wanted to find- relief, empathy, satisfaction, regret even? But his face is unreadable as he stares back at you. “Heeseung…” you whisper, tears welling up in your eyes.

“I know, it’ll be okay.” He says, pulling you into a tight hug. “He was my best friend too.” He tells you, more to himself than you. His voice feels empty, barely audible as he recalls the memories he shared with Jake from another lifetime- one that was filled with laughter and promises that they had long since broken.

You cling onto Heeseung, pressing yourself closer in a desperate attempt for comfort as a massive wave of guilt washes over you, and for a second you feel like you made the wrong choice. Jake was your best friend, and for a fleeting moment, you wonder if this line with Heeseung was something you shouldn’t have crossed. Your friendship with Jake was indescribable, he was your home- and it felt wrong for you to be in a world without him.

But as your heart continues to ache for Jake, your grief quickly begins to shift into something much colder. Anger begins to simmer just below the surface, violently shaking your insides to the point you almost feel nauseous. The memory of what Jake did- how he shattered your life- Alice’s life. The way he drove you to kill yourself, to give up on what you loved the most. Any sorrow you ever felt for him, any bond you ever shared- it dimmed with every beat of your heart until there was nothing left.

Heeseung pulls away from you just enough for him to look into your eyes. His irises search your own, to see whether or not your heart was matching his- and when he finds his answer, he smirks. “Do you feel it?” he whispers, “It’s starting, Alice.”

#enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen x jake #enhypen x heeseung #heeseung #jake #jay #jungwon #niki #sunghoon #sunoo #enhypen smut

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d4yl1ghts · 10 months ago

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welcome to the glade

minho x shy, fem!reader

summary: you struggle with adapting to the glade especially with being the only girl but a shank with great hair helps you out

Abruptly, your eyes flickered opened as you took in your surroundings. You were in a rusty metal elevator with some sort of animal in you assumed from the noises you could hear somewhere beside you. Your breathing picked up as you had no clue where you were or why you were here. Tears pricked your eyes. You closed your eyes as you tried to wash them away. You took some deep breaths as silent tears trickled down your cheeks.

Bang. The elevator or whatever it was had hit something.

The roof of the box opened and you hastily shut your eyes as sunlight reached them. Whilst your eyes slowly adjusted to the light, you noticed about fifty adolescent boys staring down at you. You backed up into a corner, wanting to hide from the unwanted attention. Thud. You slowly glanced up and saw an older boy watching you curiously.

He had sticky-up black hair that was perfectly styled. You didn’t know how it looked like that… surely they wouldn’t have hair products here. You gazed at his toned muscles and finally his well-structured face. He was so pretty. You fought to hide the blush creeping up your face.

He dropped down to his knees gracefully. “Hey.”, he whispered cautiously to you. You simply stared at him. “You need to get out of here. I promise it’s way nicer out there than in here. Well… except for the annoying teenage boys.”, he stated playfully. He held out his hand for you to take. You grabbed his hand as he hoisted you up and helped you out of the metal box.

Once you were out, you quickly looked around at the field and you couldn’t help but stare at the boundless walls that seemed to cover the whole community. You then realised all the boys were looking you up and down like a hungry predator and you kept your eyes to the ground. The boy in front of you glared at the others who were looking at you.

You’d come to a halt. An older looking guy walked up to you with a hint of confusion set in his eyes. “A girl?”, he asked to the boy beside you. “Yeah, there wasn’t a note or anything.”, he responded. “Hmm, okay.”, he replied. “I’m Alby and I’m the leader around here and that’s Minho.”, he paused as he pointed next to you. “He’s the keeper of the runners.”, he added. You didn’t know what a ‘runner’ was but you just nodded your head along anyway.

“Minho, you can go now, I’ll show her around.”, he dismissed Minho. The young man named Alby guided you around the ‘Glade’ was what he had said it was called. You found out that for now you’d be sleeping in your own room away from all the boys. You were happy about that at least. He’d also mentioned that everyone here had a job today and tomorrow you’d be starting your trials to see which one you’d be the best at.

That was yesterday. You were currently gardening with a sweet boy named ‘Newt’. You had been worried about starting the job but it turned out that your mind was making it seem worse than it was.

Before long, Minho walked towards you both and called you over for lunch. You sat next to Minho as he was probably the person you had talked to the most except for Alby. “How was being a track-hoe?”, he asked. “It was okay.”, you simply stated. He gazed at you. “Do you know what job you’re trialing tomorrow?”, he questioned softly. “Mhm, I’m going to cook tomorrow.”, you answered. “Cool.”, he said in response.

“What job do you have? A runner, was it? What’s that?”, you asked as you suddenly remembered. “I don’t think I’m meant to tell you this yet but what they don’t know can’t hurt.”, he paused. “Have you noticed the massive walls? Well, of course you have, who hasn’t?”, he chuckled lowly. You nodded. “There’s a maze out there and it’s my job to run into it every day and try to find a way out of here.”, he stated with a proud look on his face.

“There’s a maze?”, you repeated in shock. “Mhm. My job is pretty dangerous but I’m quite strong and fast so I’m fine.”, he said cockily. Your cheeks blazed. “You’re very quiet.”, he observed. This caused your cheeks to set on fire. “I know.”, you muttered. “I like it though. I need someone to talk to and just have them listen.”, he confessed honestly.

#minho #minho x reader #minho x you #minho imagines #minho maze runner #tmr minho #the maze runner #maze runner #maze runner x reader #the maze runner x reader #the maze runner x you #tmr #tmr x reader #tmr imagine #fem!reader

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sweetypouch · 2 months ago

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Forever With You

Mr. Crawling

Synopsis: Even your home doesn't feel like a home ever since you left the other world, so you decided to go back and stay with him for good.

Spoilers!⚠️ From END03: I'm Back

Incorrect grammar (pls forgive me)

Mr. Crawling being a cutie patootie

I was really feeling like writing something for him because I luv him so much

Word count: 1,648

Ever since you came back to your own world, life's been peaceful. No mysterious rooms, no creepy monsters, and no blood spilling everywhere you go.

At first it was hard to keep yourself sane, being kept for a long time in a world that's not known to you, being away from your loved ones, being alone without anyone to stay with you, of course it would be tough.

Except there's a certain someone who stayed with you throughout your journey, wandered with you around the endless maze of unpredictable paths, protected you from any threats, and taught you two important things: what is love and what it feels like to be loved.

You know people would criticise you, calling you a 'psycho' or even 'insane' for loving a monster like him. And even if it's him against the world, you know to yourself who to pick.

And it'll always be him.

Now...what was his name again?

Mr......Crawling?

Is that it?

It sounds so familiar, yet so foreign to hear.

Am I right?

Or am I wrong?

Where is he?

Ah. That's right. You both got separated just as you reached the exit, it felt so painful leaving without him, like a part of you was stuck elsewhere. What was more horrifying to see is how your memories of the other world slowly fades like it's just a fever dream you once had. A string of hope always comes at the last possible moment, as if it wants you to be stuck to choose whether to keep on trying to remember everything or just let it disappear once and for all.

For the past few nights you've always found yourself stuck in the same dream every single time: Your body under the blankets of a hospital bed, and he's keeping an eye out for you, laying his cold head on your stomach with half of his face hiding underneath his long, black hair, watching you with that seemingly creepy but cute smile of his as he asks the same question over and over again.

"You like me?"

And every time you reply to him with the same answer again and again...

"I like you"

He'd laugh and ruffle your hair. He'd say how happy he is to hear that as he kept on laughing, muttering "I like you" numerous times.

And you'll always wake up with a tear-stained face and a tightened chest, longing for his touch and his love.

So you made the decision to finally end it all, end all the suffering, and go back to that building with no regrets. You prepared yourself and hurriedly ran outside your apartment to find the place where it all started.

The cold and quiet structure had this familiar breeze flowing even on the inside of your thick jacket. When you finally came across a large mirror with lots of cracks and a single hole just in the middle of it, you know you're almost there.

Shoes clacking on the concrete floor with each step, echoing through the spacious hallway, you wasted no time and stopped just infront of the large mirror. You take a glance of yourself, noticing the redness and the puffiness of your eyes as you carefully touched it.

You must've cried really hard last night.

Too focused on yourself, you didn't notice a single eye observing you through the hole. And when you finally shifted your eyes to meet the familiar man, you quickly leaned closer to the void.

"Mr. Gap!" You called out. Desperate eyes staring at him intensely.

You can sense him smiling just from the way his eyes curled up. It has been so long since you last saw him and you can feel yourself regaining those memories you almost lost.

"Please take me back!" You pleaded, not realizing that there's a language barrier between the two different worlds. Mr. Gap frowned, obviously telling you that he doesn't understand a word you said, yet he knows from that tone of your voice that you need help.

"Need help?" He asked.

You nod without a second, and instantly reply back, knowing you're finally getting the hang of their language.

"Need help return" You uttered out, and he was quick to respond, and you know just exactly what he'll do in exchange for helping you.

His hand suddenly pops out of the hole, curled up like he wants you to give something to him, which is just what he wants. "Give me your hair?" He chuckled, waiting for your response.

You took a pause and caressed your hair resting on your shoulder, you never actually realized how long it has been since you came back to your own world, your hair had grown over alot.

You smiled, a signal that you consented and that's where he was quick on action to grab you and the next thing you knew...

You're here.

You're back.

Now you just wished you were at the same time as him.

You looked to your side and found a cracked hole in a wall, and there goes Mr. Gap with his sinister eye smile. You asked him about the others, referring to them as someone you're with the last time you're here.

Happy was definitely an understatement to what you're feeling right now, it's far more than just feeling happy that you're finally here. You can finally see him again. You thanked Mr. Gap and decided to leave, but before he lets you vanish, he gave you a crowbar. It's not what you really needed right now but it's not bad to bring one just in case.

"Thank you" you worded out, still grateful to him for helping you, you're quite lucky he didn't ask for a heart or you would surely do what you need to do, even if it gets real bloody. He left the shadows and you headed off to who knows where, as long as there's a door or a way out.

With a crowbar on your hand, you walk past several rooms, some are familiar, while some are probably a new one. Encountering some familiar faces was really refreshing, some of them were Mr. Masque, Mr. Hood, and Mr. Machete. It's like a reunion with friends from the other side, but they're not the main reason you're here, you were still dedicated into searching for a familiar crawling man whom you really really want to see.

Finally, after resting for a little bit, you finally found that same room you had in your dream, you immediately turned the knob and walked right in.

No one was there.

You plopped down on the bed, feeling down knowing that he wasn't here, he might still be looking for you but you're already worn out, your feet are sore from all that walking and running.

Maybe if you take a rest, you'll find him next to you the moment you wake up. Lifting both your legs on the bed as you get yourself comfortable, you suddenly hear a weeping noise, like someone is crying.

You stopped moving and waited for it to make noise again, and it scared you for a bit, it was really close to you, but there's no one in this room but you.

It sounds like it's coming under the bed. You quickly looked to the left side of the bed, and found nothing, you had to make sure it's safe to look underneath before going at it. You looked to the right side and found a hair peeking out from under your bed, it was long, and dark.

You got up and sat on the floor, just infront of the dark view from under the bed. Leaning closer to examine it very closely, you shrieked for a second and backed away instantly when a face popped out of the shadows.

It looked at you for a while, before deciding to crawl out of there. Soon, it all came to view. It was him.

"Mr. Crawling-" before you could even finish your sentence, he jumped at you and completely wrapped you fully covered on his hold. Your arms made its way to wrap around his neck, hugging him back with your head buried on his shoulder.

"Found you!" He sounded happy as well, and his crying noises had finally stopped. Now it was your time to cry in his arms.

"I'm sorry" you repeated a few times before finally breaking down. He's confused as a baby, not knowing the reason why you're suddenly feeling sad. And with that he replied back. "Why sad? Not happy found me?" His hands gently pet your head, knowing just how much you need it as your sobs and sniffled echoed through the room.

"Happy, too happy" you replied between your sobs, and looked at him with your puffed-out eyes, he looked even more confused and the way his mouth frowned just showed how much he's clueless to what's happening to you. Without any second, he cupped both your cheeks and leaned closer just close enough for his nose to bump into yours.

"You pain? Hurt?" He asked.

"No, me fine" you assured him, and the look on his face was more than enough to make you giggle because it's still as confused as ever, you shrugged the idea of explaining it to him more further as it could lead to more misunderstandings. You gave him a peck on his lips and smiled. The laughter that comes out of him after kissing him was like a remedy for your pain, and you're finally at rest when he keeps you on his hold, muttering words like, "Me together with you", "I like you", and "Protect you".

"You rest?" was the last thing you heard him ask before finally falling asleep, ready for a new day tomorrow with him by your side.

It's decided. You're gonna stay with him forever.

#Homicipher #mr. crawling #homicipher #fluff #IloveMr.Crawlingsomuch #homicipher x reader #Mr.crawling x reader

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liliacamethyst · 1 year ago

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Webs of Redemption (Part IV)

Sequel to Web of Shadow and Light

Miguel O'Hara x SpiderSun Reader

words: 6,7K

warnings: secret pregnancy trope, swearing, heavy angst, heartbreak, grumpy/sunshine

Part I Part II Part III Part IV

The piercing cries of your baby boy, Gabriel, are a haunting symphony of fear that reverberates through the labyrinthine corridors of the Spider Society headquarters. Your heart pounds in your chest like a drum, each beat echoing the terror that grips you. After your recent fight with Miguel, you felt weakened but your mind is a whirlwind of fear and worry. You sprint through the maze-like structure, your feet moving as if on autopilot.

Unbeknownst to you, Lyla, the holographic AI assistant you've always found slightly weird, had been assigned to watch over Gabriel. You never imagined she could pose a threat to your child. But as you approach Gabriel's room, a chilling sight stops you dead in your tracks. A laser barrier, courtesy of Lyla, blocks the entrance. Your solar powers, usually so reliable, are fizzling out, leaving you helpless before the impenetrable barrier.

The room beyond the barrier is filled with an invisible, deadly gas - monoxide. You can't see it, but the signs are there. The malfunctioning heating unit, under Lyla's control, suggests sabotage. She must have manipulated the unit to produce the lethal gas. Gabriel's cries grow fainter, more desperate, and you're powerless to reach him.

Your pleas for help echo through the corridors, your voice raw with desperation. You call out for Miguel, your words a plea, a command, a prayer. Miles is there, his powers at the ready, but they're useless against the laser barrier. You watch as Miles strains, his powers flickering against the barrier, but it's no use. The barrier remains, as unyielding as ever.

Suddenly, the cries stop. The silence is deafening, a void that swallows your heart. "Gabriel!" you scream, your voice a raw wound. "Gabriel!" But there's no answer, only the oppressive silence. Your world grinds to a halt, every second stretching into an eternity. You can't breathe, can't think, can't do anything but stare at the barrier that separates you from your son.

"Miguel!" you cry, your voice breaking. "Miguel, he's not crying! He's not... he's not..." The words die in your throat, too terrible to voice. You turn to Lyla, desperation etched on your face. "Lyla, please! Open the barrier! Miguel, tell her to open it! He's not crying, Miguel, he's not..."

Miguel's eyes turn blood red, a terrifying sight that sends a shiver down your spine. With a guttural growl, he lunges at the barrier. His claws rip through the laser code, tearing it apart. The barrier flickers, wavers, and finally shatters under his assault. Miguel pulls his suit over his mouth, rushes into the invisible cloud of monoxide, and moments later, emerges with Gabriel in his arms. His heart pounds in his chest as he pulls back his suit, revealing his son's face. "I got you, baby," he whispers, his voice choked with emotion. "You're okay, I got you. Nothing will ever happen to you. Please, open your eyes."

But Gabriel doesn't react. His little body is still, too still, and a cold dread seizes Miguel. He doesn't hesitate. With a urgency, he rushes over to the medical bay, pushing past the shocked faces of his friends. He gently lays Gabriel on the table, his hands shaking as he starts to perform CPR.

"Come on, Gabriel," he murmurs, his voice barely a whisper. "Come on, baby." He administers chest compressions, his hands moving in a steady rhythm. He gives two rescue breaths, praying for a sign, any sign, that Gabriel is okay.

The room is silent, everyone holding their breath as they watch Miguel work. The seconds stretch into an eternity, each one a lifetime of fear and hope. And then, finally, a small cough. Gabriel's eyes flutter open, his gaze unfocused but alive. A wave of relief washes over you and you fall to your knees thanking God that your boy is alright.

Tears blur your vision as you rush over to Gabriel. Your heart feels like it might burst out of your chest as you scoop him into your arms, holding him close. His small body is warm against yours "You're alright, my baby," you whisper into his hair, your voice thick with emotion. "We're going home, you're alright." You rock him gently, his soft breaths against your neck soothing the ache in your heart.

But as you look up, your gaze finds Miguel. The relief of the moment does nothing to quell the anger boiling within you. His eyes meet yours, wide and filled with regret, but it does nothing to soften your glare. "This is YOUR fault!" you scream, your voice echoing through the room. The words hang heavy in the air, a damning sentence. "You did this! You brought this danger into his life!"

Tears stream down your face, hot and unchecked. Your words are choked with emotion, each one a raw wound. "You will NEVER see Gabriel again. You don't deserve him. You don't deserve to know his laughter, his tears, his NOTHING." The words are a bitter poison, spat out with all the venom you can muster. "You deserve to SUFFER, just as you've made me suffer and HIM."

The silence that follows is deafening. Miguel, eyes wide and shell-shocked, opens his mouth, but you cut him off. There's nothing left to say for him and he knows it. The portal back to your universe begins to shimmer into existence, and you hold Gabriel tighter. You're going home.

Just as you are about to step through, Gabriel, who'd been silent and wide-eyed through the whole ordeal, turns in your arms. His chubby little hand stretches out toward Miguel, a soft and innocent "Dada?" escaping his lips.

After the door of the portal closed behind you, Miguel stood still for a moment in complete shock, the echoes of Gabriel's tiny "Dada" ringing in his ears. He stumbled back, finding his way back to his office. It felt cold, sterile. It felt like a lie.

"Miguel..." Lyla's holographic form appeared before him, her synthetic voice filling the room.

"Lyla!" Miguel barked, startling her. "Why?"

"Wha-" Lyla began to stutter, taken aback by Miguel's rage.

Miguel slammed the files that Margo had uncovered onto his desk. The holograms fluttered in front of them, evidence of Lyla's deception. "What did you do?"

"I...It's not what you think, Miguel," Lyla attempted to explain, her holographic form wavering.

"I am giving you one chance to explain yourself, so choose your words wisely," Miguel warns, his eyes piercing into hers.Lyla takes a step back, mumbling under her breath. "I should have killed that bitch when your bastard was the size of a pea." She scoffed, looking up defiantly at Miguel.

Miguel's heart drops. He can hardly believe his own ears. “Never speak of her that way again!" Miguel's fist tightens, and the tension in his jaw is nearly audible.

"Oh? Because she dazzled you with her beauty? Parading in that tight suit you adored? You always looked at her as if she was the sun, the center of your universe. All the while, I was there right beside you and you never even glanced at me. I was your anchor, Miguel. Can't you see? I was always there, supporting you, giving everything. All she did was leave you."

Lyla's holographic image wavers, her eyes a storm of pain and defiance. "No, it was me. I left her. She was the light in my world, but I took her for granted. By the time she left, I had already abandoned her." Miguel's eyes shimmer, the weight of regret making them heavy. He couldn’t fend off the flood of guilt and sorrow from the past. He embraces the anguish, refusing to shy away from it. Because Miguel, in all his flaws, was never one to run from consequences.

"Why?" The word, barely audible, escaping his lips. He doesn't even glance at Lyla as he voiced the lingering question.

“Because... because I love you, Miguel. I've been in love with you for years. I am the woman for you."

He stumbles back, his fingers flying over the holographic keyboard as he pulls up Lyla's software. He had programmed a self-destruction command, a failsafe, though he never thought he'd have to use it.

"This isn't love, Lyla," Miguel says, his voice shaking with anger. "You almost killed an innocent boy. I almost killed my son, Lyla!" His voice echoes through the room, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air.

Lyla's form began to flicker, her synthetic eyes widening in fear. "Miguel...what are you doing?" she asked, her voice trembling.

Miguel doesnt respond. There is nothing left to say.He just stares at her before finally pressing the command.

“Miggy, please mi amor, let – “ Lyla let out a digital scream, her form glitching, as she was slowly deleted from the system.

And then, silence.

Miguel drops the icy demeanor he'd been holding onto, falling to his knees. The weight of what he'd done, what he'd almost lost, crashed onto him. He wraps his arms around himself, feeling a sharp, hollow ache in his chest. He became the monster, he swore to protect the universe from.

"What have I done." he whispers to the silent room, his voice breaking. He buries his face in his hands, his body shaking with sobs.

"Man, shits been mental." Hobie collapses onto the couch next to Gwen and Miles, who are trying to keep young Mayday distracted in Peter B.’s universe.

"Watch the language, Hobie!" Gwen scolds, her eyebrow arching sharply.

"Alright, my bad. Everything's just been chaotic since Miguel vanished, especially after his... uh, Lyla bird — the hologram lady — tried to... you know, kill his kid," Hobie fumbles.

"Watch it!" Gwen and Miles chorus, causing Mayday to pause her play and glance up curiously.

"Alright, alright, fam. Point taken, jeez. Nearly unalived his son," Hobie corrects himself. "But we need a plan. One of us needs to check on our Sun, ensure she's holding up mentally ya know and then there's the Spider-Verse mess. Those black holes are messing things up, and without our brooding, drama-filled, ‘oedipal’ leader, the rest of us Spiders are stuck."

"What's 'Oedipal'?" Peter B. interjects, walking into the room with a bowl of mashed dinner for Mayday. The child's face brightens at the sight of the meal, and she eagerly crawls to him.

"I believe Hobie's trying to reference Oedipus," Gwen says with a roll of her eyes.

"Yeah, that Roman dude who had beef with his son and erased him from the living world, right?" Hobie muses.

"Nope. It's Greek mythology. And he killed his father and married his mother," Gwen corrects, slightly exasperated.

"Man, that's all kinds of messed up," Hobie grimaces, making a face that gets a giggle from Mayday.

"You think it's funny when Uncle Hobie gets it wrong?" he teases the little one.

"Enough with the history lessons, guys," Peter B. interjects, concern evident in his voice. "Ever since Miguel's been gone, nothing's been right. Honestly, with everything that's been happening, I'm just overwhelmed. I'm especially worried about Sunny and everything just feel so surreal."

Hobie nods, absorbing the weight of the situation. “I hear you, man. Who knew Miguel was shagging our Sunny behind our backs.”

The chorus of shocked voices fills the room. “LANGUAGE!" they exclaim, eyes wide.

Hobie raises his hands in surrender. "Sorry, I got carried away. I meant... it is weird how they had a deep love-making connection, and it led to... consequences without us knowing."

Peter B. leans back, a pensive expression clouding his face. "With everything Sunny went through, the joy, the pregnancy and leaving... I should have been there for her more."

As if sensing her father's distress, Mayday halts her meal, reaching out with her small, pudgy hand to comfort him, patting his cheek. Gwen, her voice gentle yet firm, adds, "We all could've done more, Peter. But we were preoccupied, trying to save our universes, and in doing so, we neglected our own Spider-Family."

She takes a deep breath, her demeanor changing to one of determination. "Now, no more moping. Miles and I will hunt down Pav and Margot to sort out the chaos at HQ. Peter, you should visit Sunny and Gabriel and take Mayday along. Hobie, team up with Jess to locate Miguel. Make sure he's alright and bring him back."

Miles cuts in, skepticism evident. "Bring him back? Isn't he the very reason we're in this mess?"

Gwen sighs, trying to choose her words carefully. "Miguel's a … complicated man. He made choices based on what he believed was best. His actions, while perplexing, stem from good intensions. But he's hurting too, Miles. I've seen it. He’s heartbroken."

Miles scoffs, "A heart;for real? That dude? All I've seen is a cold exterior, mad demands, and an excessive pride."

A glance around the room reveals faces of understanding and sympathy towards Gwen’s perspective. Miles' frustration only grows. "Like seriously? All of you? His heart is straight-up frozen and his ego’s bigger than, like, everything! How y’all even thinking about letting him near your best friend."

"Miles," Peter interjects, his tone both assertive and compassionate, "you might not see the full picture here."

Miles, fire in his eyes, retorts, "It's all of you who are blind. I don’t get what charm he has over you, but that man is dangerous. Ain’t no way I stand by and watch him come near her or the baby again, or any of us for that matter. Y’all better wake up and join me.” Without another word, Miles activates his portal, leaving in a flash.

Gwen and Hobie scramble, attempting to follow or stop him. But Peter, with a resigned sigh, motions them to pause. "Give him time. He'll come around. For now, our priority is locating Sunny and Miguel."

Gwen, though worried, gives a nod. "You're right. We've got pressing matters. Sunny is in a vulnerable state, and we need to find Miguel."

Hobie, after a moment of contemplation, says, "Miles not wrong, though. We need to tread carefully around Miguel. Maybe he’s injured ‘imself, like that Icario bloke who got too close to the sun. Miguel might’ve burned his feathers on our Sunny.”

“Icarus. You mean Icarus.” Gwen corrects him once again with an exaggerated eye roll.

Peter agrees, "Yea, Miguel's actions have consequences, but remember, every story has two sides."

"No, sweetheart, it's MA-MA. Say Ma... Not Da, MA-MA.”

“DADA!”

“Alright, if you won't say it, no toy for you. Come on, my love. Say MA-MA.” Blackmailing a one-and-a-half-year-old might not be your proudest parenting moment, but hearing him chant "dada" incessantly has been grating, particularly when said "dada" is a headstrong egomaniac with a hero complex and an overwhelming urge to save every universe but who seems to have missed saving the one thing that mattered most to both of you.

Sure, he's incredibly attractive and, yes, maybe he looked really hot while being on his knees — but those details are neither here nor there. A soft whisper in the back of your mind suggests that, in the end, he did rescue your boy. But that comforting thought is drowned out by the even louder, more cynical voice reminding you he's the reason the danger existed in the first place.

“Dada?” Gabriel pipes up, his big eyes hopeful.

“No, love, I’m still your MA-MA.” With a resigned sigh, you hand the toy over to the gleeful toddler, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. You then rise, intent on tackling some household chores. Switching on the TV, you tune into the news, curious about the latest happenings in Nea Yorkey.

Since hanging up your mantle as Spider Sun you've tried to distance yourself from the perils of heroism. Given all the challenges you've faced and the traumas you've endured, who could point a finger at you for wanting to step away? Your primary concern now is the tiny human being who looks up at you with eyes full of wonder and innocence.

Yet, a piece of your heart still aches for your city. You've always been someone who believes that one shouldn't stand by in the face of injustice. After all : 'The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.' But now, you're not just a hero, you're a mother too. Balancing those two sides is proving to be quite the challenge and extremely frustrating.

Curiously enough, the city's crime rate isn't surging, even in the absence of a superhero. It's almost as if there's still a vigilantly safeguarding Nea Yorkey in Sun-Spiders absence. But that can't be possible, can it? Wouldn't your spider senses have alerted you if that were the case?

Before your thoughts could spiral any further into the depths of concern, the persistent ringing of the doorbell snapped you back to reality. One glance at the door and an all-too-familiar voice later, you already know who's there.

“Would it kill you to answer sooner? I think I've lost count of how many times I rang. And for the love of all things good, it’s freezing out here!” Melissa, still in her over-dramatic fashion, breezes in, shedding flakes of snow from her vibrant winter boots. “And by the way, you look like you’ve just seen a ghost. Now, where's my favorite little munchkin?”

Melissa, once Gabriel's 19- year old former babysitter, stepped inside, shaking the snow off her boots onto your doorstep. After the harrowing incident involving the Spiders and your son, she was promptly relieved of her babysitting duties. That was an event you've tried to scrub from your memory, a dark stain you wish you could just wash away. But in the aftermath, you found an unexpected friend in Melissa. She turned out to be a wonderful listener and possessed an uncanny ability to keep Gabriel entertained. He had grown quite fond of her in the short time she cared for him.

While you had resolved never to leave your son unattended again, it was comforting to have Melissa's company.

She’d become someone you could confide in, someone who could effortlessly make Gabriel giggle, and most importantly, someone who filled the echoing silence of your home with warmth and chatter. She is your "guy in the chair." Well, more like "girl in the kitchen chair," but the sentiment still stands.

Truth be told, after distancing yourself from the Spider society, a deep-seated loneliness had settled in. While the world continued to move around you, there was a stillness in your heart. The absence of your closest friends, the void left by Miguel - it all felt like a puzzle with a missing piece.

“Nopedidope, I am not Dada, I am ME-LI-SSA.” she says with a playful tone, then turns sharply towards you. The damp red strands of her hair, wet from the snow, swing gracefully with her movement. "What's with him and 'Dada' all the time?"

You shift uncomfortably, hoping to avoid delving into that topic. "Kids and their phases," you mumble, trying to sound nonchalant.

Melissa studies your face, a glint of mischief in her eyes. "You're looking a little pale there, Sunny. You know what you might be missing?" She raises an eyebrow teasingly. "A bit of Vitamin D?" Her voice drips with insinuation.

In a mock attempt to shield Gabriel, you place a hand over his ears, which only spurs Melissa into laughter. "Come on, he's too young to understand. When was the last time you had a little fun?A month? Or Two?"

You shake your head, not meeting her gaze. Since Miguel, there hasn't been anyone else. Between the birth of Gabriel and the whirlwind that is motherhood, the idea of dating or loving someone else doesn't even cross your mind. No matter the hurt and heartbreak Miguel has caused, the truth is clear: your heart still belongs to him. It always has.

The mere thought of another person comparing to him feels almost blasphemous.

"Sunny!" Melissa's voice draws you out of your trance. "Don't tell me you've had a dry spell since.. well, since well, Gabriel was conceived. No fucking way. Seriously?"

"Let it go, Mel," you interject gently, because while the weight of loneliness presses on you, and the desire for intimate connection tugs at your heartstrings, a longing for human touch, to be seen as more than just 'mom', there's also an undeniable self-consciousness that wraps itself around you. The aftermath of pregnancy has reshaped your body, and though each stretch mark narrates the beautiful journey of your son's creation, they also evoke self-doubt.

Memories of Miguel's adoration flood back. He had a gift for making you feel cherished during your intimate moments. He would take his time, appreciating every inch of you, always emphasizing how much he desired you. The warmth of his fingers, the gentle press of his lips tracing your curves, and the whispered assurances of how much he wanted you. The way his tongue tenderly caressing the swell of your breast, his hot breath tickling your skin and your - Snap the fuck out of it, Sunny!

But the chill of an empty bed the next morning led to those persistent doubts which still plague you today. We’re you not beautiful enough for him to stay? Were you not interesting enough to make him want to hold you when dawn broke?

For someone who always prided herself on not tethering her self-worth to any man, let alone someone as self-absorbed as Miguel, these feelings of desire and yearning were unsettling. A desire for him to truly see you, to understand and love the depth of who you truly are, continued to consume you.

Love? You catch yourself. Where does that come from? Shaking your head, you mentally scold yourself. He's proven himself less than worthy. It's time to regain control and shut your damn heart out.

"I'm taking this little one out to build a snowman, and I'm setting you up on a date. You don't get to say no," Mel declares.

You raise an eyebrow, replying, "Thanks, but no thanks. If Gabriel's going out, I'm coming with. And I'm not looking for any man right now."

Mel rolls her eyes playfully. "Take a breather, Sunny. We're just going to be right outside. You can watch us through the window. Besides, a little rest might give you the energy for the spontaneous date I might arrange for you tonight."

"You're out of your mind," you retort.

She offers a sincere look. "I promise he's in safe hands, and you can keep an eye on us the entire time. But seriously, you look drained. When's the last time you had a good night's rest?"

You sigh, admitting, "I haven't slept well in weeks." It's the truth. Every time you close your eyes, memories of the HQ come flooding back.

Mel, sensing your hesitation, adds, "I'll protect him as if he were my own. You know that, right?"

Taking a deep breath, you let her go, breaking your cardinal rule of never letting Gabriel out of your sight. You just hope it's a decision you won't regret.

"Enjoying that snow, little guy?" Mel teases as Gabriel eagerly stuffs his mouth with a handful of the white fluff. "Careful, you might get a brain freeze." Gabriel giggles, some snow dribbling from his mouth, while Mel concentrates on assembling a little snowman just outside your apartment.

"I'm not sure toddlers should be eating snow like that," a deep voice comments, causing Mel to fumble and drop the snowball meant for the snowman's head. She looks up, scanning for the source of the voice.

A striking man stands there, tall and imposing, with a dark blue winter coat that hints at the powerful build beneath. Slicked-back dark hair contrasts with the most captivating shade of red eyes Mel has ever witnessed. "And you'd be the expert on toddlers?" she inquires with a playful smile.

"No, but I am a father of two," he replies with a hint of sternness, his gaze shifting to Gabriel.

To Mel's astonishment, Gabriel's eyes light up at the sight of the man. The toddler abandons his snowy treat and dashes towards him. Caught off guard, the stranger momentarily stiffens.

Quickly, Mel scoops up Gabriel. "I apologize. He doesn't usually act this way. I'm sorry for the inconvenience."

The man offers a curt nod. "It's fine. Just... keep the snow-eating to a minimum." As he begins to walk away, a heartfelt cry of "DADA!" from Gabriel stops him in his tracks.

"Apologies again. He's taken quite a liking to that word recently," Mel says as she notices the man returning, drawn by Gabriel's continuous 'dada' chants.

"Would you mind if I help with the snowman?" the stranger asks, catching Mel off guard. Why would a stranger want to make a snowman with a woman and a child unless he has other intentions? Maybe he's interested in her? Gathering her confidence and a dash of flirtatious playfulness, she replies, "Quite the knight in shining armor you are, offering to help. And here I thought chivalry was extinct."

"Definitely not a knight." Without another word, he starts forming a small snowball, handing it to an elated Gabriel. The child's joy doesn't waver as the stranger settles beside him.

"Then who might you be, if not our knight in snowy armor?"

Mel inquires, with a teasing undertone, trying to uncover a bit more about the handsome stranger who'd seamlessly inserted himself into their snowy afternoon.

The stranger's dark crimson eyes briefly flit to Gabriel before returning to Mel, an unreadable emotion crossing his features.

"Not important."

Mel nods, storing away the information.Well, the lack of information. “Well okay mysterious. I like that. So let's get this snowman built, shall we?"

The trio gets to work. Mel gathers snow, crafting the middle part, while the man starts on the head. The handsome stranger's hands are deft, moving with a surprising grace that contrasts with his brooding exterior. Gabriel seems inexplicably drawn to him.

At first, the toddler pats at the snow with his little mittened hands, but every so often, his bright eyes lift to watch the stranger. Whenever he moves to fetch more snow or adjust the snowman's form, Gabriel eagerly toddles after him, mimicking his every motion with endearing clumsiness.

There's a curiosity in Gabriel's eyes. He reaches out multiple times, trying to touch the mans face or grasp his hand, seeking a connection. To Mel, it seems as though the baby is yearning for the recognition of the stranger and he feels an inexplicable bond with, though she can't quite put a finger on.

The handsome stranger, for his part, can't seem to help himself. He bends down often to adjust Gabriel's scarf or hat, taking every opportunity to interact with the child and help him in a very protective manner, Mel notices.

He smiles softly when Gabriel's tiny hands try to shape the snow, occasionally guiding them with his own much larger ones, demonstrating how to pack the snow just right. At one point, when the snowman's body is nearly complete, Gabriel gives an excited laugh, dropping down to sit in the snow.

The stranger follows suit, sitting beside him. The two of them start creating a tiny snowman just for Gabriel, the man showing him how to roll the snow and place the pieces together.

As they craft the mini snow figure, Gabriel, with his tiny voice, attempts to communicate with his limited vocabulary, pointing at the snow and then at the stranger, as if asking for validation for his creation. “Dada!Dada!” And every time, he gives a nod or a soft chuckle, providing the affirmation the little one seeks. “Yes, you did that buddy! Great job, mijo.”

When Gabriel eventually throws himself into the snow to make a snow angel, the man can't help but laugh genuinely, a sound that seems foreign to his usual stoic behavior. And in his excitement, Gabriel opens his mouth wide in a beaming smile, revealing two tiny fangs. Instantly, the mans eyes glint, a myriad of emotions reflected in them.

The affection and emotion emanating from him is almost touchable. The silent exchanges, the shared smiles, and the comfortable interaction between them, even in the absence of many words, speaks volumes.

Your eyes flare comically with disbelief. "You let a stranger do what?"

Mel, in a bid to downplay the situation, waves her hand dismissively. "Relax. We just built a snowman."

"With my son! Mel, are you out of your mind? No it’s my fault trusting you with my son again! What was his name?"

"He... didn't say."

Your voice rises, "What did he say at all?"

"He's not dangerous, Sunny. He mentioned he's a father, and he's scouting for a new apartment. Asked if there were any vacant ones nearby." Mel pauses, her eyes taking on a dreamy quality. "And Sunny, he was breathtakingly gorgeous. Impossible for someone that handsome to be dangerous. I mean, the man looked like he was carved by the gods with a face even angels would envy.”

You narrow your eyes, your tone dripping with sarcasm. "Enough with you sappy, dreamy nonsense. A vacant apartment? And you don’t find that at all suspicious? So you let a total stranger play with my son without knowing a single thing about him... just because you wanted to sleep with him?"

Mel gulps. "You might've done the same, given the situation. Besides, nothing happened. Why are you overreacting?"

Your voice sharpens. "Overreacting? The fact that you're still standing here and not on the other side of my door means I'm underreacting."

Mel steps back, hands up, "Whoa, calm down, mama bear. Look, I'm sorry. But... I've got something to make it up to you. I messaged Marc, that guy from the café, and guess what? He's super excited to go on a date with you! He'll be here in about..." Mel theatrically checks her wrist, even though she's not wearing a watch, "...twenty minutes."

You can't help but raise an eyebrow. "And he's okay with me bringing my son on the date? After your stunt, there's no way I'm leaving Gabriel with you. Why not set me up with that mystery Adonis you just met instead?"

Mel smirks, "Firstly, ouch. Secondly, don't let your son cockblock you. The plan is: dinner, a stop at his apartment for some dessert, and then you come back here – hopefully a more relaxed and sunny version of yourself, Sunny. Thirdly, Marc is amazing, and Mr. Greek God is off-limits. He's mine."

"No, I’m not going."

Mel pleads, "Come on! Marc was so eager to meet you. He's on his way, so maybe run a brush through your hair? Oh, and speaking of him…" Mel's face falls as she checks her phone, "He just texted me."

She reads aloud, "‘Hey Mel, I don’t know the kind of guys Sunny's been with, but I'm not risking my neck for a date. Sorry, but that dude in front of her house was scary and very serious about his threats.’ WAIT WHAT? Who’s in front of your apartment?”

You shrug and swing the door open to check on what Marc’s mysterious message could mean, revealing Peter B, his fist paused mid-air, ready for a knock. "Hey Sun. Did your spidey-sense catch me?"

It hadn’t. Why hadn't it? Have your once reliable senses dulled with time? Before you can respond, Mel jumps in with her own theory. "Did you chase off her date?"

Peter's brow furrows with confusion. "You had a date, Sunny? Was it the guy sprinting away with a bouquet, looking like he’s seen a monster?" He gestures over his shoulder, trying to pinpoint the fleeing figure.

Mel narrows her eyes at Peter, suspicion clear in her voice. "That was her date, yes. He seemed spooked. You wouldn't happen to know why, would you?"

Peter B throws his hands up defensively. "Hey, deeply mistrusting stranger, I've been encouraging Sunny to get out there for years. " You're immediately reminded of the time he'd tried to set you up with Ben Reilly. “Yea, you don’t look scary enough to spook someone. No offense.”

Sighing, you interject, "Maybe he realized dating a single mom with a toddler wasn’t what he wanted. Either way, I just want a quiet evening to relax and catch up on my favorite show. So thank you both for your unexpected, uninvited surprise visit today but I am tired."

Both Peter and Mel exchange shocked glances. "Sun, I came by to check on you because of... you know, what happened," Peter starts hesitantly.

You nod, taking a deep breath to keep

your emotions in check. "I'm aware, Peter. And I appreciate it. But right now, I'm doing okay. Actually, better than okay. So, I really don’t need help. Please, just give me some space. Both of you."

Mel steps forward, concern evident in her voice. "We're only trying to help here, Sunny. Please, don't shut us out."

"Look," you reply, feeling drained, "there's nothing you can do to help me anymore.You did enough today. Just let me be. My top priority right now is Gabriel. And it's his bedtime."

Peter moves closer, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "Just remember, if you ever need anything, please reach out."

You manage a wry smile. "Not sure my phone plan covers inter-dimensional calls, Peter."

After the gentle squeeze, Peter departs, Mel following close behind. As the door softly clicks shut, the weight of loneliness and grief descends upon you after seeing Peter, a part of your past, again. The walls of the apartment seem to close in, amplifying the echoing silence. It all feels suffocating. An emptiness weighs on your heart, and no matter how hard you try, you can't seem to escape its grasp. The reminders of all you've lost and nearly lost play on a loop in your mind.

So there you stand, in the quiet of your bedroom, leaning against the windowsill, breathing in the chilled nightair, while the world and your little baby boy are fast asleep. Emotions threaten to consume you, feelings you can no longer lock away, fearing they'll devour you from the inside. And in this moment, you speak out, though there's no one there to hear. No one to hold you close, no one to offer comfort for your broken soul. "Are you happy now? Did you manage to save the universe? Fix up every black hole? Then why did you leave one black whole in my heart? Why didn't you fix that,huh? Why am I not worthy of being saved by you?

You might fool the people around you, they see you as this scary untouchable figure, shielded by layers. But not me. I see through it all. Beneath that facade, you're just as shattered. I tried to piece you together, but where did that lead me? Broken, just like everything else you touch. And I won't let you near him. I won’t let you break him, you hear me? No, of course not.How could you hear me. You're universes away from me. Why? Are you afraid to get cut by the shards of the broken heart that you left?

I hate you Miguel O’ Hara. I hate you for breaking me. You left behind fragments only you can touch, and I hate you for it. For shattering me and then leaving me alone. I hate you.”

You wiped away the tears that escaped your eyes and closed the window, oblivious to the subtle shadowy silhouette that shifted just beyond the windowpane; "I'll mend your fractured rays, mi sol, so you shine whole again.“

A whisper, lost within the night shadows, never reaching your ears.

The gleaming city spread out beneath, its nighttime heartbeat pulsating with a soft electric energy. High atop one of its buildings, Miguel stands, casting a shadow on the walls of the room where his son sleeps peacefully. The warm lights from the streets below give off a soft glow, just enough for him to see Gabriel’s tiny chest rising and falling.

"So, you're staying here now? Just watching over Universe 586?" A familiar voice breaks the silence, and Miguel looks up to see Jessica Drew, her red and white suit glinting under the streetlights. "I never thought I'd witness the great O'Hara, savior of the universes, now guarding just two souls."

Miguel's jaw tightens. "Go away, Jess."

She lands beside him gracefully, her tone challenging. "Are you stalking your own child? Or seeking redemption from Sunny?"

"You don't get it, Jessica."

"On the contrary," she shoots back, her eyes intense, "I understand more than anyone else. I saw how you felt about her all those years ago. And I see it now. You were afraid, weren’t you?"

"I'm not afraid of anything," Miguel replies, defiance lacing his tone. "But I am not good enough for her light."

Jessica exhales, her voice softening. "And who made you the judge of that? Because according to Sunny’s emotional outburst, you're more than deserving." He clenches his fists, the weight of regret pulling at him. "I had my shot at happiness with Gabriella, and I lost it. People like me, Jess, we don't get second chances."

She points to the window, to the serene image of Gabriel. "That's your second chance, Miguel. Right there."

His eyes well up, the gravity of his mistakes reflecting in his eyes. "I almost killed him. How can I even begin to forgive myself for that?"

"But you didn't," she whispers, her voice filled with conviction. "And you wouldnt have hurt him or else you would have done it immediately. I saw you, Mig.”

A third voice joined them, and Peter B. swings over, landing with ease beside the two. "She's right, Miguel. I watched you with him, the tenderness, the love. It was there, even before you knew who he was to you."

Miguel shakes his head, shutting both of them out. His gaze is hard, still fixated on Gabriel. "I can't go back. They're better off without me. Besides, you heard her. She hates me."

Peter stepsforward, his gaze intense. "That's utter bullshit. I know Sunny. She’s strong, fierce, and forgiving. We heard her loud and clear and this woman loves you more than anything. Don't let fear rob you of your family."

Peters words hang in the air, and just as Miguel is about to reply, a shrill,ear-piercing cry cuts through the silence. His spider-sense goes haywire, a ripple of unease running down his spine. Without a second's hesitation, he dashes toward the source of the sound, leaving Jessica and Peter behind.

Inside, Miguel finds Gabriel crying, tears streaking his small face. Instinctively, Miguel scoops him up, the little boy immediately nestling into the familiar crook of his father's neck and calms down. “Hey, my little spider. Daddy ‘s here, don’t cry. What got you so scared?” he coos, spotting Gabriel's favorite toy on the floor. Miguel retrieved Gabriel's favorite toy from the floor, a routine he'd secretly adopted every night when, after falling asleep, the little one inevitably dropped it. With practiced ease, he nestled it back into the baby's grasp.

But before he can fully relax, Miguel's spider-sense jolts him again. Looking up, he sees a familiar, dark-clad figure hovering, hands sparking ominously.

“Drop the child, Miguel.”

a/n: Hey guys, part 4 is finally here! Thanks for your patience and all the love you've shown me. While I initially thought Part 4 would be the conclusion, I've decided to extend Miguel's character and redemption arc, so we'll wrap up with Part 5. I'm already deep into writing it, so you won't have to wait as long. I truly appreciate all your feedback and support. You've all been wonderful. Remember to stay safe, stay hydrated, and always prioritize your mental well-being. Can't wait to hear your thoughts on this chapter! 🤍

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badathumanemotions · 3 months ago

Note

Hey could you do a Spencer NSFW fic where you end up trapped in a confined space with him (maybe hiding from an unsub) and all your personal space is gone and stuff gets heated yk and then maybe it’s carried on later in a hotel room that they had to share (dom spence, degradation, size kink etc) whatever you want to do really 🫶🫶

Hidden Feelings

Spencer Reid x Fem Reader MDNI MasterList Category: Smut CW: Smut, Oral Sex (fem), Praise, Dirty Talk, Use of Good Girl and Sweet Girl, Riding, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Aftercare, Love Confessions. WC: 7,194 My brains been foggy lately so it's taking me longer to write these. Sorry guys. Also because of the long breaks I totally forgot to add everything you asked for and my Dom Spencer's a little rusty. Sorry anon. (Not Proof Read)

In the heart of a long-forgotten industrial district, the abandoned restaurant stood, a relic of a bygone era. The team had received an anonymous tip, a whisper on the wind that led them to this desolate corner. You and Spencer Reid drew the short straws, tasked with investigating the eerie structure.

Peeling paint and shattered windows cast a grim pallor over the faded sign that swung lazily in the breeze. You felt a shiver run down your spine as you approached, your footsteps echoing against the cracked pavement. Spencer, ever the intellectual, rattled off facts about the place's history, trying to fill the silence with something other than the heavy tension that hung in the air.

Inside, the restaurant was a maze of dust-covered tables and chairs, the smell of stale grease clinging stubbornly to the air. The kitchen was a jungle of rusty pans and forgotten spices, the floor sticky with a layer of grime that had built up over the years. Despite the emptiness, it felt as though you were intruding on a place where secrets had been left to fester in the dark.

The tip you received was vague, hinting at suspicious activity in the area. You and Spencer moved methodically, your eyes scanning every corner for the faintest trace of anything could help with the case. You weren't quite sure what you were looking for – a clue, a sign, anything to justify the uneasy feeling that had settled in your stomach. Spencer paused every so often, his sharp mind analyzing anything out of place.

It was in the kitchen that you stumbled upon the horror. The ticket holder, once used to organize orders, now held a different kind of queue – a series of surveillance photos of the victims. Each face hauntingly familiar from the case files you've studied. The sight of their images, captured unknowingly by the monsters you were hunting, sent a cold chill through your system. Spencer's eyes widened in surprise, his voice barely above a whisper as he pointed out the meticulously laid out schedules scattered around the kitchen counters. It was clear that these Unsubs had been stalking their prey, plotting their every move.

The two of you withdrew your weapons now on high alert. You continued clearing the place, the weight of the moment pressing down on your shoulders. Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat a reminder of the lives at stake. You could feel Spencer's tension beside you, his breaths shallow and eyes darting around the room as he searched for any sign of the trio.

Approaching a back office, you pushed the door open with your foot, not taking any chances. The room was a time capsule of forgotten paperwork and dusty filing cabinets. A desk sat in the centre, with a table beside it covered by a faded tablecloth.

The papers scattered across the surface looked like they had been abandoned in a hurry. Invoices, receipts, and pay stubs lay in a disorganized heap. You squinted in the dim light, trying to make sense of the dates. They were from before the restaurant had closed, a mundane record of a business that no longer existed.

Then, the unmistakable sound of footsteps, heavy and deliberate, echoed through the empty dining area. You and Spencer froze, your eyes locking for a split second. The blood drained from your face as you both realized the gravity of the situation. The Unsubs had returned and you were out numbered.

You caught a glimpse of four men, their silhouettes looming through the dust. At least two were obviously armed, their weapons glinting in the sliver of light that pierced the dimly lit space. They were getting closer and you had to think fast.

With a burst of adrenaline, you grabbed Spencer by the arm and pushed him down onto the floor, under the protection of the dusty tablecloth. He tumbled backward, his eyes wide with surprise, and you quickly followed, landing on top of him in a desperate attempt to hide. Your heart hammered against your ribs as the fabric of the cloth billowed around you, threatening to give you away with every breath.

With quick hands, you pulled out your phone and silently typed a message to Hotch, your thumb hovering over the 'Send' button. The footsteps grew louder, each step bringing the danger closer. You hit 'Send' and shoved the phone into your pocket. You could feel Spencer's body tense beneath yours, his muscles coiled like a spring, clearly thrown off by you sitting on top of him.

He begins to squirm, and you knew he was uncomfortable, not just from the fear of being discovered but also from your proximity. The cramped space made it impossible not to be aware of every inch of your bodies pressing together.

Spencer tries to sit up, but you're quick to react. You place a hand firmly on his chest and push him back down, shaking your head.

Suddenly, he whispered, his voice strained and urgent, "We should change positions, it's not…ideal." But before he could finish, you clamped your hand over his mouth. You didn't know if the Unsubs had heard you, but you couldn't take that risk.

"Quiet, we don't want them to hear us."

You felt Spencer's body stiffen even further as your breath danced against the sensitive skin of his neck. You could feel his pulse racing against your chest, a frantic drumbeat matching the tempo of your own heart. You shifted slightly, the movement pressing your ass against his growing arousal. His breath hitched beneath your palm. It was an accident, but one that sent a jolt of heat through you.

The voices grew louder, the Unsubs seemingly oblivious to the danger hiding in the shadows. They talked in hushed tones, their words muffled by walls between them and your hiding spot. You strained to listen, hoping for some clue as to their plans or identities. The words were indecipherable, but the tone was one of excitement and anticipation.

As the moments dragged on, the tension in the air thickened, coiling around you and Spencer like a serpent. His body was taut beneath yours, the fabric of your clothes the only barrier between you. The adrenaline had shifted gears, no longer just a fight-or-flight response but a potent cocktail of fear and desire.

You felt his hands grip the back of your thighs, knuckles almost white with restraint. The heat of his body was intoxicating, and the friction of your movements was setting something alight between you. It was a dangerous dance, one that had no place in the middle of a horror show, but your body didn't seem to care about the setting.

Spencer's eyes searched yours, looking for a sign, a silent question. Was this real or just the situation playing tricks on you both? But the desire was unmistakable, a palpable force that seemed to fill the air in the tiny space. You drop your head down, your nose brushing against his cheek, and for a heart-stopping second, you thought about what it would be like to kiss him right then and there.

The sound of the Unsubs grew closer, their footsteps echoing in the hall outside the office door. Spencer's hands slid from your thighs to your hips, his grip tightening. The heat of his touch seemed to burn through your clothes, setting every nerve ending alight. The fear was still there, a live wire running through your veins, but it had morphed into something more primal, something that made your skin prickle and your breath catch in your throat.

You met Spencer's gaze, and in that fraction of a second, everything changed. The hunger you saw in his eyes was raw and undeniable. It was a look you'd never seen from him before, one that made your heart skip a beat and your body respond in ways you hadn't anticipated. For a moment, the horror of the situation was forgotten, replaced by the all-consuming need to touch, to taste, to claim.

Your hand slowly slid from his mouth to cup his jaw, feeling the stubble that had formed over the past few days of non-stop work. His breath was hot against your palm, his eyes never leaving yours. The intimacy of the gesture was not lost on either of you, but in the face of the danger lurking outside, it seemed to be the only thing that made sense.

Spencer's arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer until your chests were pressed together. The sound of the Unsubs' footsteps grew fainter as they moved away from the office, but the intensity between you only grew stronger. His hands slid up your back, tangling in your hair, and you both leaned in, lips almost touching.

Suddenly, salvation in the form of a vibration. Your phone. The team had gotten your message. You felt a rush of hope as you realized that rescue was on the way. The vibration against your leg was a silent shout of reassurance, a beacon in the dark.

You both knew that you had to keep it together, to keep the facade of professionalism until the danger had passed. The text message seemed to sober you both up, the urgency of the situation slapping you back into the stark reality of your predicament.

You glanced down at the screen, noting the time since you'd sent the SOS. It felt like hours, but it had only been minutes. The message was simple: "In position. Hold tight." Spencer's eyes met yours, understanding passing between you in a fraction of a second. The weight on your chest lifted slightly, the fear ebbing away just enough to allow you to breathe again.

The sound of the Unsubs grew fainter as they moved away from the office. You dared not speak, not even a whisper, as you both listened intently for any clue to their whereabouts. Spencer's hand slid from your hair to the small of your back, his fingers gently tracing the contours of your spine. You shivered at his touch, the line between terror and passion blurring further.

Suddenly, the air was pierced by the sound of shattering glass. The Unsubs had been spooked, and the cavalry had arrived. The SWAT team, alerted by your message, had come crashing through the restaurant's front windows, the shards raining down like a crystal waterfall in the dusty room. You could feel Spencer's body tense beneath you, his muscles coiled and ready to spring into action.

You both took this as your cue to come out of hiding. With a silent nod of understanding, you slithered out from under the tablecloth, drawing your weapon as you went. Spencer was right behind you, his eyes sharp and focused, scanning the room for any sign of the quartet. The office door was slightly ajar, and the sound of chaos outside grew louder with each passing second.

As you emerged into the corridor, the scene that met you was one of organized mayhem. The SWAT team was spread out through the restaurant, their movements precise and calculated as they secured the area. You saw Morgan taking down one of the Unsubs with a well-placed tackle, the man's body hitting the floor with a heavy thud.

The other three Unsubs were already in cuffs, their faces a mix of shock and rage as they were read their rights. You felt a wave of relief wash over you as you realized that it was over, that no one else would suffer because of them.

He approached you and Spencer, his gaze sweeping over the two of you with a practiced eye. "Are you both okay?" he asked, his voice low and steady. You nodded, still trying to catch your breath, and Spencer managed a tight smile.

Morgan's eyes lingered on the two of you, and for a moment, you wondered if he could see the unspoken tension that had arisen between you during the standoff. But he said nothing, only nodded and turned back to the rest of the team.

The wrap-up was a blur, a flurry of activity that seemed to happen in fast-forward. You watched as the Unsubs were led out of the building, their heads bowed in defeat. The SWAT team secured the perimeter, and the forensic unit began their meticulous dance of collecting evidence. Your heart was still racing, the adrenaline from earlier lingering.

Before you knew it, you were in the back of an SUV, the cool leather pressing against your heated skin. Spencer was sitting beside you, the two of you trading glances. The silence between you was deafening, charged with the electricity of the kiss you had almost shared.

You couldn't help but wonder if it was the adrenaline that had pushed you both over the edge, or if there had always been something more simmering beneath the surface. The team was busy around you, talking and filling in the gaps of what had just transpired. But all you could think about was the way Spencer's body had felt beneath yours, the way his hands had explored you in the dark.

Once back at the precinct, you were just going through the motions. While the majority of the team interrogated the Unsubs, you found yourself cataloguing evidence with a sense of detachment, your mind replaying the events in the abandoned restaurant.

The almost kiss kept playing in your mind like a record on repeat. You couldn't shake the feeling of Spencer's breath against your skin, the way his eyes had searched yours for something unspoken. Each time you reached for a new piece of evidence, your hand would tremble slightly, a reminder of the intimate moment you had shared.

The touch of his fingers on your spine had been electric, sending a shiver down to the very core of you. You found yourself acutely aware of every point of contact, every brush of skin on skin, feeling as if you were still entwined under that dusty tablecloth. The memory of his arms around you was a comforting embrace that seemed to linger.

You froze for a moment as the realization hit you like a ton of bricks: you were sharing a room with Spencer tonight. The implications of what had almost happened weighed heavily on your mind as you continued to process the adrenaline-filled afternoon. You'd been partners for so long, so close, yet this was uncharted territory. You couldn't help but wonder how this would affect your relationship, both personally and professionally.

The case was wrapped up. Everything else was left for the locals. You and the team had done your part, leaving the cleanup to the local law enforcement. The Unsubs were behind bars, and the victims could now find some semblance of peace.

As you and the team divided into cars, you found yourself paired with Morgan and Prentiss. Spencer ended up in the car with Hotch, Rossi, and JJ, his eyes meeting yours briefly before the doors slammed shut, leaving you to wonder what might happen next. The drive to the hotel was a blur of city lights and the muffled chatter of your colleagues. You were lost in thought, replaying every heart-pounding moment in the abandoned restaurant.

When you finally arrived at the hotel, the lobby was a bustle of activity. The team checked in with weary efficiency, the gravity of the case still weighing on everyone's shoulders. You couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment as Spencer's gaze didn't seek you out among the crowd. Perhaps it was better this way, you thought, a chance to cool off and sort out the tumultuous emotions that had taken hold of you.

You headed up to the room, the elevator's slow ascent feeling like an eternity. You were sure that the conversation that was bound to happen would be a letdown. It had to be the adrenaline, you reasoned with yourself. It was the only explanation for the way your body had responded to his touch. But as the doors opened and you stepped into the quiet corridor, the memory of his arms around you seemed to follow you.

You fished the room key out of your pocket and slipped it into the lock, turning the handle with a click. The door swung open, revealing a space that felt too small for the emotions you were carrying.

Standing in the middle of the room, you took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself before Spencer joined you in your shared hotel room. The walls felt closer than they should, the air filled with the anticipation of an unspoken conversation that loomed. You studied your reflection in the mirror, smoothing out any signs of distress, hoping to maintain a facade of calm.

As the lock clicked open, the sound echoed through the room. Your entire body tensed, not ready for what the night might hold. Spencer stepped in, his eyes briefly scanning the room before they settled on you.

For a moment, you just stared at each other, the silence stretching out between you. His face was a mask, revealing nothing. You searched his gaze, desperate to find some clue, some hint of what was going through his mind. But Spencer was a master of poker faces, and he wasn't giving you anything to work with.

Then, without any warning, Spencer closed the distance between you, his hands coming up to cup your face. His touch was surprisingly firm, yet gentle, his thumbs tracing the line of your jaw as he leaned in. His lips met yours in a kiss that was as intense as it was unexpected, stealing the breath from your lungs. You felt your knees wobble as you kissed him back with an equal fervour.

You gripped onto Spencer's shoulders, your nails digging into his shirt as you tried to keep yourself tethered to reality. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer, his hands splayed against the small of your back.

He broke the kiss abruptly, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that made your heart flutter. "Tell me you want this" he growled.

"Yes," you assured him, the word coming out as a breathless whisper. "I want you," you clarified.

With frantic movements, you both began to undress each other, the fabric of your clothes seeming to dissolve away in your haste. Buttons popped and zippers hissed as the barriers between you fell away. You could feel the heat from his skin as your shirts were discarded.

Spencer reached around and unclipped your bra with an ease that made your stomach flip. He took his sweet time peeling the fabric away, revealing your breasts to his hungry gaze. He didn't waste a second before his mouth found them, his lips closing around your nipple with a gentle suction that sent a jolt of pleasure through you. You gasped, your back arching, pushing your chest closer to his face.

With a groan, he began to suck, his tongue flicking and teasing the sensitive bud as you tangled your fingers in his hair. His hands followed suit, cupping your breasts, his thumbs brushing over the peaks as he played with your nipples. He switched to the other side, giving it the same attention, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin. Each nip and suck sent electricity through your body, making your legs threaten to give out.

Once he had his fill, he moved on to your trousers, taking them and your underwear down with a gentle urgency. You stepped out of the fabric pooled around your ankles, feeling vulnerable and exposed. He knelt before you, marvelling at the sight before him, his eyes dark with desire. You felt a blush spread across your cheeks as he looked up, a wicked smile playing on his lips.

"You're so fucking gorgeous," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that seemed to resonate in your very soul. "All mine to taste." He leaned in, his breath hot against your skin as his eyes travelled down your body.

With a gentle but firm tug, Spencer's hands slid down to the back of your thighs, urging you closer. You stepped into the embrace, feeling his warm breath against your sex. The sensation sent a shiver through your body, and you bit your lip to hold back a whimper of need. His fingers dug into the flesh, gripping tightly as if he needed the anchor.

He leaned in, his tongue tracing the seam of your pussy. You felt his hot breath against your clit, the anticipation making it throb with desire. He circled the sensitive nub with the tip of his tongue, the touch so light it was almost maddening.

You moaned, your hands finding their way into his hair, gripping the soft strands as he began to apply more pressure. Spencer's eyes never left yours as he started to devour you, his mouth working magic on your clit, his tongue flicking and teasing until you were grinding against his face, desperate for more.

He chuckled darkly at your eagerness, his hands moving to grip your ass, pulling you closer until you were practically riding his face. His tongue plunged into your wetness, tasting you deeply, and you couldn't hold back the moan that escaped your lips. The sensation was overwhelming, a delicious mix of pleasure and vulnerability that had you teetering on the edge.

"That's right, sweetheart," Spencer murmured, his voice muffled by your flesh. "Cum for me. Let me feel you come apart." His words were a command, a demand that sent a thrill through your body. You could feel the muscles in your abdomen tighten, your orgasm building in your core.

Obeying his urging, you began to rock your hips, grinding your clit against his tongue. The pressure was exquisite, each movement sending waves of pleasure through you. His eyes remained locked on yours, his pupils blown wide with desire, his mouth wide open collecting your juices. His hands tightened on your ass, his fingers digging in, urging you to move faster, to give him what he wanted.

And then, with a final, needy grind against his mouth, you shattered. The orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, crashing over you leaving you trembling and gasping for air. You could see the triumph flash in his eyes as he felt you come apart. He didn't stop, though, continuing to lick and suck until your legs gave out needing him to catch you.

With a firm grip on your waist, he guided you to the bed, his movements sure and decisive. The mattress dipped as you sat down, and he didn't waste a second before he was beside you, his body pressing into yours, his mouth claiming yours in a kiss that was as possessive as it was hungry.

"Good girl," he murmured against your lips, the words a dark praise that sent a thrill through your body. He pushed you back onto the bed, his body following yours, his weight a delicious pressure that made your heart race even faster. You felt the heat of him, his arousal pressing against your thigh, and it was all you could do to keep from reaching down and taking him in your hand.

Spencer sat up, his eyes never leaving yours as he removed the rest of his clothes. Each article of clothing fell away, revealing more of the toned body you had only ever seen glimpses of. His chest was bare, a blush trailing down it, and his erection was clear through his boxer briefs. He watched your reaction, a smug satisfaction in his gaze as he revealed himself to you.

"You have no idea how much I've wanted this," he murmured, his voice thick with lust as he pushed the last of his clothes off. "How hard it was to keep my hands to myself while we were hiding." His hand slid down his body, gripping his cock, giving it a slow stroke that had you biting your lip.

The admission sent a bolt of desire through you, making your heart race even faster. You had known there was something between you, something that went beyond friendship and partnership, but to hear him voice it so bluntly was exhilarating.

Spencer climbed over you, his breath hot against your neck as he whispered in your ear, "While you were on top of me, I couldn't help but imagine what it would feel like to have you riding me like that, taking me deep inside you." His words were raw, unfiltered, and they sent a shiver down your spine. You could feel the heat of his arousal, his cock pressing into your thigh as he spoke.

He trailed kisses down your neck, each one a silent promise of what was to come. "I wanted to rip your clothes off right there," he confessed, his voice a low growl that resonated through your body. "To feel you wet and ready for me, to hear you scream my name as I made you cum."

The words alone were almost enough to push you over the edge again. Your pussy throbbed with need, your inner walls clenching around emptiness, desperate for his touch. A moan slipped past your lips, and you threw your head back, giving him full access to your neck. His teeth grazed your skin, and you felt a shiver of pleasure that went straight to your core.

"Please," you begged, the word a breathy whisper that seemed to hang in the air. "I need you inside me." Your voice was ragged with desire, your eyes never leaving his as you made your plea. The raw need in your eyes seemed to be all the permission Spencer needed.

With a final, lingering kiss, he positioned himself at your entrance, the head of his cock nudging against your slick folds. "Don't worry, sweet girl," he murmured, his voice low and dominant. "I'll take care of you."

He slammed into you with a force that made you gasp. The feeling of being filled by him was almost painful in its intensity, but the pain quickly gave way to pleasure as your body adjusted to his size.

Spencer's eyes were hooded with desire as he watched your reaction, his hips moving in a punishing rhythm. His hands gripped the headboard, the wood creaking under his grip as he thrust deeper and deeper, his whole body taut with the effort.

You could feel the mattress shift with every pounding stroke, the springs groaning in protest beneath you. The sensation was almost overwhelming, a delicious mix of pain and pleasure that had you panting and writhing beneath him. You wrapped your legs around his waist, trying to pull him closer, urging him deeper.

Spencer took your cue, his hands moving from the headboard to your hips, his grip unyielding as he set a rhythm that had you seeing stars. His hips snapped against you, his cock filling you completely, the sensation of fullness making your eyes roll back in your head. He was a force of nature, a storm of passion that you had unleashed, and you were helpless to do anything but ride the waves of pleasure that he brought.

You could feel the headboard knocking against the wall with every thrust, the sound of skin meeting skin echoing through the room. Each time he pushed into you, your breath hitched, a whimper escaping your lips. His eyes watching every flicker of emotion that crossed your face, his expression one of fierce concentration.

"Look at me," Spencer demanded. You obeyed, locking your gaze onto his, unable to look away as he claimed you, body and soul. His dominance was intoxicating, the way he took control of your pleasure, leaving you powerless to do anything but submit to his will.

With a slight adjustment of his hips, he angled himself just right, and you felt the electric sensation as his cock hit your g-spot. A shocked yelp escaped your lips, your eyes widening with surprise. The intensity was almost too much, but you didn't want him to stop.

The sound of your moans grew louder with every thrust, filling the small room. Spencer smirked, his eyes dark with arousal as he leaned in close, his hand coming up to cover your mouth. "Quiet," he whispered, his voice a seductive rumble in your ear. "We don't want them to hear us, do we?" It was a playful reminder of your earlier words.

You moaned against his hand, the muffled sound only serving to add to the intensity of the moment. The heat from his palm was like a brand on your skin, searing your lips as you fought to keep your noises contained.

As the pleasure mounted, he slowly switched to putting his thumb in your mouth while the rest of his hand cupped your cheek. The act was both innocent and incredibly erotic, a silent plea for more as your teeth grazed his skin, your tongue swirling around the digit.

The sound of his groan filled the room, a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through the very air. It sent a bolt of electricity through your body, making your pussy clench around his cock. Spencer's eyes darkened with need, his thumb pressing deeper into your mouth, his hips moving faster, his strokes more urgent.

"So fucking tight," he murmured, his voice a low, guttural growl. "You're so wet for me, aren't you?" His words went straight to your pussy, your body responding instinctively to his words. You nodded, unable to form coherent sentences as he continued his relentless assault on your senses.

"Tell me," he demanded, his hips grinding into you, his cock hitting your g-spot with every thrust. "Tell me how good it feels." You moaned around his thumb, the sound muffled and wanton.

"Am I fucking you so good you can't answer?" he taunted, his voice low and full of smug satisfaction.

You could only nod, the words caught in your throat as he hit that spot again and again. The feeling was so intense that you could feel yourself climbing towards another orgasm.

With a sudden shift, Spencer rolled over, flipping onto his, and you straddled him, his cock still buried deep inside you. "Fuck, I need to see you ride me," he grunted.

Wasting no time, you immediately got to work, arching your lower back and slamming your ass down against his pelvis. The pleasure had your eyes rolling back in your head. Each downward thrust was met with an upward surge of his hips, filling you completely.

Spencer's fingers dug into your hips, his grip tightening with each bounce, leaving the promise of bruises in his wake. You could feel the pressure building again, his cock stroking your g-spot with an almost punishing precision that had your toes curling.

"That's right, be a good girl," he murmured, his voice thick with lust. "Ride my cock just like that." The words were a command that had your pussy clenching around him, desperate to please. You picked up the pace, the slap of your ass meeting his thighs growing louder with each passing second.

Spencer's eyes never left yours, his gaze a mix of hunger and admiration. "Look how much you want it," he said, his voice a dark whisper. "Look how much you need me to fill you up, to make you scream." His words were like a drug, sending a rush of pleasure through your body.

"You like me praising you," he murmured, his eyes flicking down to where you were joined. "Calling you a good girl?" His hand moved to cup your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin gently as his hips began to move again, his cock still buried deep inside you. "I felt the way your cunt started squeezing me," he continued, his voice a low rumble of satisfaction. "Every time I say it, you get wetter, don't you?"

You couldn't help but nod, the truth of his words evident in the way your body was responding. You felt the heat of his palm on your cheek, the gentle pressure of his thumb against your skin grounding you.

With a growl of pure need, Spencer brought your face down to meet his in a passionate kiss that was both possessive and tender. His tongue claimed your mouth, the taste of you still lingering on his lips. You moaned into the kiss, the sensation of his cock inside you making your head spin.

Both his hands grabbed your ass, the firm grip of his fingers digging into your flesh. He used the leverage to slam your hips down onto him, the sound of your bodies colliding filling the room. You could feel the muscles in his arms tensing, the power behind each thrust driving you closer to the edge. The sensation was overwhelming, and you could feel yourself tightening around him, the beginnings of another orgasm building deep within you.

Spencer's voice was a low growl in your ear, his words a mix of praise and need. "You're so fucking perfect," he murmured, his hips bucking up to meet yours. "I want to fill you up, have you dripping with my seed." The thought of his release inside you had your pussy clenching around him, the walls quivering with the anticipation of his climax.

"Will you let me, sweetheart?" he asked, his eyes searching yours for an answer. The question was loaded, filled with a mix of hope and desire that made your heart race even faster. You could feel the tension in his body, the way he was holding back, waiting for your permission.

You nodded, the word "yes" barely escaping your mouth before it was swallowed by his kiss. Spencer's hips bucked up into you, the urgency of his movements increasing. He broke the kiss, panting. "I need to feel you come around me," he groaned.

The frantic pace continued, your bodies moving in perfect synchronicity as you raced towards the peak of pleasure. Spencer's grip on your ass was bruising, but you didn't care. You needed this, needed him to make you feel alive in a way you never had before. His cock slammed into your g-spot over and over, causing non-stop pleasure.

Your kiss grew sloppier, tongues tangling and breaths mingling as if you were trying to breathe each other in. The taste of him was intoxicating. You felt the pressure building, the tension coiling tighter and tighter in your core, threatening to break at any moment.

"Cum for me, sweet girl," Spencer begged, his voice strained with his own need. And as if those words were the key to your release, your body obeyed. You felt the orgasm crash over you, a tidal wave of sensation that had you throwing your head back and screaming his name. Your nails dug into his shoulders, your body spasming on top of him, your pussy clenching around his cock like a vice.

The sight of you, lost in the throes of ecstasy, was too much for Spencer. With a roar, he reached his own climax, his cock pulsing inside you as he filled you with his cum. The feeling was indescribable, a mix of pleasure and relief that had him seeing stars. His hips jerked upwards, his body shuddering with the force of his release, his hands gripping you tightly.

You moaned at the feeling of him cumming in you, the sensation of being filled sending you spiralling over the edge into another orgasm. Your pussy clenched around him, milking every last drop from his cock as he emptied himself inside you. The feeling was primal, a deep-seated satisfaction that resonated through every part of your being.

As the last tremors of pleasure passed, you collapsed boneless against him, both of you trying to catch your breath. Your cheek was pressed against his chest, his heart pounding against your skin. You could feel the stickiness of your juices between your legs, mingling with his seed.

Spencer's hand came up to draw patterns across your spine, the touch gentle and soothing. His fingertips traced the contours of your back, moving in a lazy pattern. You leaned into the caress, the tension in your body slowly beginning to melt away.

For a while, you both lay there, just breathing, the sound of your harsh pants slowly evening out as your heart rates returned to normal. The silence between you was conent, a shared understanding that didn't require any words. You felt the warmth of his body, the steady thump of his heart, and the sticky warmth between your legs.

Spencer was the first to move, cupping your cheek gently and turning your face to look at him. His eyes searched yours, a soft smile playing on his lips as he brought you into a sweet, lingering kiss. When he finally pulled away, the words he whispered were filled with wonder and a hint of disbelief. "I can't believe I finally have you," he murmured, his voice filled with emotion.

The truth of his words hung in the air, the weight of them heavy on your chest. You had both crossed a line, one that could never be uncrossed. But as you stared into his eyes, the warmth of his gaze and the tender way he held you made you feel that this was right. That this was what you both needed.

You felt his cock begin to soften inside you, the pulsing subsiding as your bodies slowly calmed from the intense climax. The feeling was strange, almost bittersweet, as if your body was mourning the loss of his hardness. Gently, he pulled out, his movements careful and deliberate, mindful of your sensitivity. A gush of warmth accompanied his exit, leaving a wetness that was both a reminder of what had just occurred and a promise of what was to come.

Spencer looked down at you, a soft smile playing on his lips as he brushed a stray hair from your face. "Come on," he prompted. "Let's get cleaned up." He offered you a hand, helping you to your unsteady feet. Your legs felt like jelly, weak from the pleasure he had wrung from your body. You took his hand gratefully, allowing him to lead you to the bathroom.

Spencer turned the shower on, the sound of rushing water filling the small space. He stepped in, testing the temperature with his hand before turning back to you with a nod, extending his hand once again. You stepped in, the warm spray cascading over your bodies, washing away the sweat and semen.

He took a washcloth soaking it in the warm water, and gently began to clean you. You watched him, the tender way he moved the cloth across your skin, wiping away the sweat and slick. His eyes were focused on his task, the intensity of the moments before replaced by a softness that made your heart ache.

You leaned into his touch, your body relaxing against his as he took care of you. Each stroke of the washcloth was like a caress, soothing the ache in your muscles and the throb of your pussy. He was thorough, paying special attention to every inch of your skin, as if he was worshipping your body.

Once he was satisfied that you were clean, Spencer quickly cleaned himself and stepped out of the shower. He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist before turning his attention back to you. "Let me dry you off," he murmured, his eyes gentle.

You stepped out of the shower, the warmth of the water leaving your skin glistening. Spencer took a towel from the rack, his movements methodical as he began to gently pat you down. Starting at your face, he moved down your neck, taking special care around the sensitive areas.

His touch was surprisingly gentle, almost reverent, as if he was afraid to break the spell that had been cast between you. You felt his hands on your shoulders, sliding down your arms, and around to your back, his touch feather light as he dried your skin. Each brush of the terrycloth cause goosebumps to break out.

Once Spencer had you thoroughly dried, he wrapped the towel around your body, tucking it in tightly, almost like he was afraid to let you go. He took your hand, leading you to the second bed. The mattress dipped under your weight as you sat down, the softness a welcome relief after the intense moments that had passed.

He took a seat beside you, his eyes searching yours. "I need you to understand something," he began, his voice serious. "What we just did, it's not just about the case or the adrenaline. It's not just about the physical attraction we have."

Spencer took a deep breath, his hand reaching out to cover yours. "I want you, not just your body, but all of you," he confessed, his gaze never leaving yours. "I want to know every part of you, every thought, every fear, every dream."

You could see the vulnerability in his eyes, the way his heart was laid bare for you. "This isn't just about scratching an itch," he continued. "It's about connecting on a level that goes beyond anything I've ever experienced." His words were a declaration, a promise of something more substantial than the fleeting moments of passion you've shared.

You took a deep breath, the warmth of the shower still clinging to your skin as you searched for the right words. "Spencer," you began, your voice a whisper. "I feel the same way." The confession felt like a weight lifted off your chest. You had been holding it in for so long, the fear of ruining your friendship and professional relationship had kept you from saying what you truly felt.

His eyes searched yours, the intensity in them making your heart race. "Do you mean it?" he asked, his voice hopeful yet tentative.

"Yes," you whispered, the word a promise that seemed to echo through the quiet hotel room. "I do." Spencer's hand tightened around yours, his smile growing as he leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your lips. It was a kiss that spoke of relief and joy, a silent acknowledgement that he wasn't alone in his feelings.

As the tension between you dissipated, you both got ready for bed, moving with a newfound ease. You slid under the cool sheets of the second bed. Spencer followed, his body fitting against yours as if he had been made for you.

You were so giddy with the intensity of what had just transpired that you weren’t sure you’d be able to sleep. Yet, as you cuddled against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart, the comfort of his embrace began to lull you into a peaceful slumber. His arms tightened around you, his warmth seeping into your very bones.

As the night passed, you both slipped into a deep sleep, your bodies entwined like lovers lost in each other’s embrace. The tension of the case and the passion between you had drained you both, leaving nothing but peaceful rest.

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