#i thought that i could use it to create some contrast but NO

[yungistiny]

camgirl ═ chapter two

[ S. Mingi ]

chapter two: spike

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summary: mingi just really needs some cash and he was told all he had to do was hold a camera. simple enough. he just didn’t anticipate the type of content he’d be helping to create

warning: emo mingi, stoner mingi, switch mingi, switch reader, mingi is hung, creampie, unprotected sex, choking, spanking, masturbation, rough sex, degradation, size kink, spitting, deep throating

pairing: mingi x afab/reader

genre: smut, angst, drama, romance

word count: 3.5K

chapter one

chapter three coming soon

masterlist

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Mingi was sat in the cushioned and actually really fucking comfortable pink computer chair as y/n grabbed everything she needed for this particular livestream. His eyes never left her, taking in the toys she sat on her bed, the two white towels she went and grabbed from the bathroom.

He never looked away from her until his phone alerted him of a new message. Mingi was tempted to ignore it but grabbed his phone from his pocket, unlocking it and rolling his eyes at the name that stared back at him.

woo: are you with y/n??

mangi: I’m gonna kill you

woo: please you love me right now

mangi: 🖕

woo: 😣

woo: I got a bet with y/n on how long you’ll last 😌

mangi: how much?

woo: just $100

woo: she thinks you won’t make it before the first orgasm but I bet her you’ll go all the way hard and all 🫡

Mingi looked back at y/n as she pulled her thick pink comforter blanket off the bed, folding it and placing it on small pink cushioned stool she moved from the end of her bed to the side.

She thought he wouldn’t last?

Y/N turned around, why was she suddenly nervous under Mingi’s gaze? She’s literally had thousands of strangers watch her get herself off but the dark heat in her new cameraman’s eyes flustered her. “You ready?”

Mingi removed his glasses, sitting them on her desk behind him as he stood, grabbing the camera back up and turning it on. He connected to the streaming site she had showed him, ready to go live on her signal with already over 300 viewers waiting for it to start.

“When I give you this signal,” y/n gave him a come here movement with her index finger, the almond shaped black nail, a stark contrast to the pink, much like Mingi himself, very tempting. “zoom in, or if I use my middle finger that way, change the angle a bit.”

Mingi darted his pierced tongue out, distracting y/n a brief moment as he wetted his lips. “Got it.” His voice was almost unrecognizable from how deep it had gotten and y/n had to pretend like it wasn’t him the cause of the arousal slick wetting her underwear.

“Just a second..” She sat atop her bed, legs crisscrossed and Mingi briefly caught the glimpse of the wetness soaking through her pink Calvin Kleins. He bit his lip to keep from smirking. “Ok, start it.” Y/N looked so innocent with her hands placed in her lap and all the pink and fuck Mingi wanted to ruin her and he didn’t care how many watched.

The second they went live, Mingi had to get a hold of himself because he knows she was looking into the camera but the smirk she sent directly towards it, towards him, he could already feel his dick twitch.

He watched her read comments that viewers were leaving from the stream on her phone, she did that for a few minutes before sitting the phone down and pulling herself up onto her knees.

Mingi followed her movements, zooming in as she reached for the pink silicon dildo she had decided to get out for this stream. It wasn’t big but it also wasn’t too small and he briefly wondered if she could take him? One thing Mingi would always be cocky about is having a big dick.

And he was certainly bigger than the dildos and vibrators he’d seen in her cabinet.

Mingi glanced back towards the computer monitor where the livestream was also being displayed, the views already growing over a thousand quickly, the chat and comments section spammed by all the horny anonymous fans and viewers.

“I feel like today you all deserve to be teased.” Her voice was so dominant when she said it, so sultry and hot that Mingi knew this was gonna be a difficult situation to keep his cool. Though he had no control over his dick getting hard. “I have a new cameraman….” Her lustfull gaze stared right at him, smirk growing as the viewers spammed even more comments at the mention of Mingi being there too. “and I want to see how long he can last.”

Fuck. Mingi clenched his jaw and followed her with the camera as she slowly removed her shirt, a pink lace bra kept her breast hidden still but Mingi was already hard as hell and he didn’t care if she noticed the prominent bulge in his baggy jeans or not.

Y/N reached for the small pink vibrator, something she always used during her streams, it connecting with the streaming site so viewers who paid a little extra could control the settings however they wanted. She held it by the long little tail, never breaking eye contact with Mingi. “What do you all think…” she bit her lip, looking directly into the camera. “should I play with him?” She giggled, feigning innocence. “Maybe next time?”

Next time? What the fuck did she mean play with him? Mingi watched her pull her Calvin Kleins off, feeling as if he were being tortured as she gave him the signal to zoom into her naked, bare, soaking wet cunt. He had to bite back a deep moan at the sight of her leaning back, spreading her legs open and pushing the small pink vibrator inside of her, the little pink tail the only part left visible.

It took everything in him for Mingi to not just join her in the livestream right then and there at the sound of the moan that left her.

“Spike..” it took Mingi a long moment to realize y/n was talking to him, masking his real name with a false one that had him curious as to why Spike? He didn’t speak, looking at her with an arched brow. “Get on your knees.”

What? Mingi furrowed his brows together as y/n gave him a commanding stare. “Now.”

Fuck.

Did she act like this with the others? Did she do this to Wooyoung? Mingi steadied the camera, kneeling to one knee first then the other, never breaking eye contact with y/n as he went. “Come here.” She gave him that come here movement with her finger but it was certainly not a signal to zoom in.

Mingi slid across the carpeted floor, his jeans snagging slightly before he stopped right directly in front of y/n at the foot of her bed.

“Do you want to help me?” She held a teasing tone but her question was meant to ask for his consent and Mingi was nodding so quickly he almost gave himself a head rush.

Mingi was sure this wasn’t part of the actual job but shit, at this point he’d work for free. “Show me your hand.” Y/N bit her lip as he held up his free hand to her, his right hand that had a chunky metal ring on the index, middle finger and thumb. And fuck they were long.

“Go ahead,” She smiled sweetly down at him and Mingi was so hard, almost achingly so, as he glanced down towards her aching cunt right in front of him. “while I see what our viewers are saying.” Y/N picked her phone up to start scrolling and occasionally reading out comments.

Mingi looked at the camera in his other hand and frowned for a second before reaching his long arm out to place the camera on top of the blanket on the little cushioned pink stool.

“Fuck…” Y/N gasped, eyes wide as Mingi dived in, tongue already flat against her clit, his piercing a new sensation she had never experienced before as it added an extra little tickling sensation that was causing that familiar tightness and heat to pool in her lower abdomen.

Mingi didn’t give a shit who saw him. Who was witnessing him eat her like a starved man. Because it was him having her suddenly a moaning mess. He was practically growling into her as he tasted everything he could. And fuck he was already becoming completely pussy drunk.

Y/N threaded a hand into his hair, grinding herself against him, the camera angled just perfectly on them. The views grew, the comments spammed madly, all demanding more of Spike.

“Mi…. Spike…” y/n felt her legs wrap around him, shaking slightly as he sucked her clit into his mouth, reaching a hand up as multiple donations came through sending the little pink vibrator on a constant high as Mingi grasped the tail, thrusting it into her deeper, pulling it back out only to do it again.

“I’m… fuck…” y/n couldn’t even form anything remotely coherent, her walls clenching around the vibrator and an actual scream leaving her, mumbling into a whimpering moan as she came the second Mingi thrusted the vibrator against her g spot.

Mingi pulled his head back, smirking when he snatched the vibrator from her, y/n gripping his hair hard as she rode out her orgasm.

But he wasn’t done and y/n certainly wasn’t reading comments as Mingi stood up, flipping her over and pulling her up against him, back to his chest as Mingi lifted her, facing them directly towards the camera.

Mingi kept most his face hidden in the crook of her neck, one sharp eye gazing into the camera as he spoke. “I’m not done helping you yet.”

Y/N knew fucked dumb already because the livestream was the last thing on her mind when Mingi’s arm wrapped around her and his hand cupped her before sinking two of his long thick fingers into her, curving them and poking at that spongey spot that had her moaning again, head thrown back against his chest and whimpering when she felt his thumb start rubbing at her slightly overstimulated clit.

Was she fucking crying? She knew she was being loud because she could hear herself though it sounded as if she were hearing under water.

And then she was coming again, definitely whimpering and crying from the high of it as Mingi fucked her through it with his fingers. Y/N gripping at his arm wrapped around her, nails digging into him as she shook and started squirting on her carpeted floor and all over Mingi’s hand, some of it even spraying the camera lens.

And now she owed Wooyoung money but she didn’t care because it had been a while since anyone else made her come and having Mingi have her like that in front of who knows how many viewers had y/n on an adrenaline high.

She’d never had anyone else with her like that during a stream. Y/N didn’t really think Mingi would do anything when she teased him but now she could kiss Wooyoung for sending him to her.

Mingi waited until she relaxed in his hold, sitting her back down on the edge of her bed as he walked over to pick the camera back up, sucking his fingers clean and snatching one of the towels y/n had gotten in case of a mess to wipe the lens off.

Y/N looked into the camera, the stream letting everyone see her dazed and fucked out expression and Mingi was smirking, his tongue poking out as he waited for her to continue.

He looked back at the computer and his eyes widened at the views. Over 5000 and counting. 5000 people just watched him make a mess of y/n and he briefly wondered if anyone he knew was watching too….

Y/N reached for her forgotten phone where it lay beside the little pink vibrator Mingi pulled out of her.

The views were a new high for her, the comments begging for more of Mingi, or Spike. Donations were plenty and y/n knew then that Mingi was about to become a permanent fixture in her streams.

Mingi was surprised and shockingly a little disappointed when y/n ended the stream after promising everyone that Spike would be back.

“Well,” Y/N grabbed one of the towels wiping herself dry before pulling her Calvin Kleins back on, followed by her shirt. “they love you.”

Mingi sat the camera back on the desk, grabbing his glasses. “I didn’t like….” He pushed the black rimmed frames back up the bridge of his nose. “overstep anything, did I?” He had certainly got blindsided by lust for a moment.

“No.” Y/N was swiping away at her phone, pulling up her contacts. “Took me off guard a little though.” She smiled at him and Mingi felt his heart flutter. What the fuck was that?

“What’s your number?”

They exchanged numbers and y/n also sent him his payment to his account.

“I’m doing another stream Friday,” Mingi followed behind her back downstairs, the city life now dark out. “same time, get here a little early though.” Y/N watched him slip his combat boots back on.

“Also….” She bit her bottom lip, pulling it between her teeth. “what do you think about a blowjob next time?” Her gaze lingered down to the prominent bulge in his jeans.

Her question had Mingi freeze with his hand on the doorknob. “What?” She wanted to give him head? She wanted to take him right in front of everyone? “You sure you want everyone to see how much of a mess I’ll make you?”

Mingi grinned at her, opening the door, biting back a smirk at the way y/n stood speechless behind him.

“See you Friday.”

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It was getting colder out, his long sleeved shirt not doing much for Mingi against the chilly night wind as he stared down at the atm receipt in his hand.

With the money his mom sent him and what he had just made from helping y/n, 1.2 million won sat in his account. Mingi grinned, the broody and moping mood he had been in now gone. He sent his mom back the money she had given him earlier that day and went to his weed man’s contact.

Johnny Suh had been Mingi’s dealer since freshman year of college. He lived only a couple of blocks from Mingi’s own apartment building. He had just gotten back to his side of the city after leaving y/n and really needed a blunt. He had smoked all his stash earlier.

Johnny let the call ring four times before he answered it. “Well, well, well…” he sounded amused, a bit teasing. “I’m assuming you’re coming over? How much?”

Mingi told him what he needed, ending the call and shoved his phone into his pocket and starting the walk over, just passing the convenience store Wooyoung worked at, gasping when someone snatched him pulling him inside.

“What the fuck?” Mingi glared at Wooyoung as he turned the stores open sign off, staring at Mingi in shock. “I should be asking you that!”

Wooyoung was grinning crazy at him, giggling. “That was the best stream y/n has ever done!”

“You watched it?” Mingi shoved Wooyoung off of him. “Of course I did! I had to make sure I won the bet.” He smirked at Mingi, loving the fact he had been right. He knew if there was one person that could match y/n freak, it would certainly be Song Mingi.

“You were the one that said I’d be perfect for the job.” Mingi was giving him that crooked grin of his, Wooyoung eyeing his hand as Mingi fixed his glasses. The same hand and fingers that deliciously had y/n fucked out only a little time ago.

“Are you going back?” Wooyoung saw the way y/n gaze had watched Mingi in the stream, saw the want and need in her eyes. “Friday.” Mingi answered, moving past Wooyoung to grab some munchie food for later while he was there.

“Y/N never let anyone join her before like that.” Wooyoung followed him around the store as Mingi picked up numerous ramen, some chips and a few sodas. “She usually puts a rule down beforehand.”

Mingi dropped all his stuff down on the counter, Wooyoung going back behind it to ring everything up. “Not once?” Now Mingi was curious, why was he the exception?

“Nope.” Wooyoung smirked as Mingi pulled his phone back out to tap to pay. “Well, I still have a hard on and I need to go pick up my weed…” it was true too. His bulge was no longer prominent after the taxi ride back but it was certainly still aching and all Mingi wanted right now was a blunt and a cold shower.

“Ok, ok,” Wooyoung was done messing with him, turning the open sign back on. “but don’t I at least get a thank you?”

Mingi flipped him off on his way out, grinning the entire time as he gripped the shopping bag with all his snacks inside.

Wooyoung pouted, feigning hurt.

“Rude.”

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“Well,” Johnny opened his apartment door, grinning at Mingi. “if it isn’t Spike!”

Mingi’s eyes widened when the name registered. “You watched it too?” Wooyoung was enough but Johnny too? They were never gonna stop pestering him about it. How many more of his friends were fans of y/n?

“I’d recognize your ass anywhere, Spike.” Johnny smirked at him as he let Mingi inside where Johnny’s best friend and roommate, Jaehyun, was sitting on the couch, bong in hand, smoke blowing from his mouth and coughing a little.

“Aye,” Jaehyun grinned at Mingi and Mingi already knew he saw it too. “Spike!”

Johnny laughed as he grabbed Mingi’s baggy, the weed concealed inside a solid neon green ziplock. “Jaehyun tried it once, didn’t last ten minutes.”

“Hey!” Jaehyun glared at Johnny. So Jaehyun had tried to help y/n before? Mingi assumed with Johnny being Wooyoung’s dealer too, that his friend must of been the one to send him. “It’s not my fault she’s hot!”

Mingi played with his tongue piercing, contemplating. Jaehyun was a very attractive guy with a voice to match so again, why was Mingi the exception for y/n to let him join her?

“So everyone knows it was me?” Mingi really didn’t care, something in him awakening and loving that y/n only let him join her. Loved that everyone knew how good he could get her off. How much of a mess he could make her.

“You’re the only 6ft emo we know with pink hair.” Johnny snorted as he sat down beside Jaehyun, grabbing the bong and repacking the bowl. “And you weren’t exactly discreet.”

Mingi stayed at Johnny’s long enough for Jaehyun to interrogate him on how he got y/n to let him join only to answer him with a shrug every time as he got in a few hits from the bong before shoving his bag of weed into the waistband of his underwear and leaving.

San was watching a cooking video on tiktok when Mingi got home, standing in the kitchen with a bowl of something red that Mingi did not want to know what it was. San was a horrible cook. Byeol hopped onto the kitchen counter, sniffing the red substance in the mixing bowl before hissing and jumping back down.

“What the hell are you cooking?” Mingi reached down to pat Byeol as she rubbed against his leg, sniffing him. “I’m trying to make kimchi.” San didn’t remove his gaze from his phone. Mingi snorted. “Good luck with that.” He went to his room, dropping his bag of snacks onto his bed before walking across the hall to the bathroom.

His shower started out cold, Mingi slowly easing it to warm after his hard on had subsided but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get y/n out of his head. Her moans. Her scent. Everything was invading him and refusing to leave him alone.

The shower head poured over him, steam enveloping the bathroom as Mingi gripped himself in his hand, closing his eyes and picturing y/n on her knees in those little knee high socks. It was only Tuesday and he wouldn’t see her again until Friday.

Mingi slowly started to stroke himself, his imagination giving him the perfect image of what he wanted Friday. Y/N had practically asked if she could give him head and he was certainly not going to deny her.

“Fuck…” he bit his bottom lip as his strokes grew faster, pants leaving him as he could only imagine how heavy he’d feel on her tongue. Ached to see how far she could take him. How long she could go while he fucked her mouth, make her gag and become a complete ruined mess.

He came just as San knocked on the door saying he was ordering Chinese instead after giving up on his attempt at kimchi.

Mingi couldn’t care less.

He just needed it to hurry up and be Friday already.

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permanent tag list: @straycat420 @dejatiny @ultrapinkvoidbouquet @hannahlilibet411

[milkb0nny]

Dancing For You

... Sam loves watching you move

Pairing: Sam x fem!reader

Summary: You are an artistic pole dancer but because of your shy nature only a few people know. Sam and you were college friends but lost contact during the months he had left. After a year you two meet again, where you give a performance on a party for the rich. Little did Sam realize how ethereal you truly looked.

Note: I wanted to give Sammy some love too. Enjoy <3

Content: no use of y/n, fluff, comfort, reader being a pole dancer, shy reader

Word count: 900

The grand hall of the mansion sparkled with elegance, and chandeliers were casting golden light over the polished marble floors. Waitstaff in tidy uniforms moved through the sea of finely dressed noblemen. It was an event designed to dazzle, a charity gala for the rich and powerful.

Sam Winchester adjusted the lapels of his borrowed tuxedo, feeling slightly out of place amidst the ambiance. But he wasn’t here to mingle; he was here to investigate. Whispers of strange disappearances among the city's elite had caught the Winchester‘s attention, and this gala was aN opportunity to dig deeper.

As Sam walked the room, he heard the soft hum of music shifting. A piano playing soft and delicate muses, little melodies of comfort. The crowd began to gravitate toward the center of the room, where a stage bathed in soft, ethereal light awaited. Golden feathers on the ground, and the center of the stage held a golden pole.

The host stepped on the stairs, gazing down the people.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome tonight’s enchanting performer, known for her artistry and grace.”

Sam watched with mild curiosity as the room quieted, the lights dimming to create an intimate atmosphere. Then you appeared, stepping onto the stage in a gown that shimmered like moonlight.

White crystals covered the needed skin of your body, laced with a thin, shimmery fabric. The rest of your skin was bare, so you could actually use the pole properly. The delicate fabric caught the light as you moved.

Pole dancing wasn’t something Sam expected to see at a gala, but this was different. As the music began, your movements told a story… fluid, expressive, and beautiful. You spun and climbed with effortless grace, the strength in your movements shown by their elegance. The dress flowed with you, transforming each move into something almost otherworldly.

Pole dancing was something you have always loved doing. Since you were a little kid you climbed on everything and did tricks on the playground. Your father pursued your passion, so you grew up with a lot of support and love.

Though, people would sexualize your hobby to the fullest, making you feel uncomfortable and sad. What you did was not, in any case, an sexual act. Whenever you mentioned your passion on a date, the men would ask you to strip for them and after an agonizing dating life, you gave up.

It turned to a beautiful hobby, and the upper class loved you. Your elegant dresses, your featherlight movements, your delicate emotions were the perfect match for a rich, elegant ambiance.

Performing at restaurants, at weddings, at business meetings and at private parties were now your main source of income - and it paid well. But your usual college life didn’t know. It was a sharp contrast to the societal elite, but you didn’t mind.

Money was money, and what is more beautiful than earning it through your money?

Sam's breath caught in his throat.

“Wow,” he mumbled under his breath, unable to tear his eyes away.

You silenced the room with divine grace, leaving only the soft music and the sound of your movements. But to Sam, there was something familiar about you…your face, the way you carried yourself. Then it hit him.

He knew you form college - a shy, introverted student which sometimes followed along his study groups.

“Wait a second,” he thought to himself. “Is that...?”

The performance ended with a delicate pose, the music fading into silence. The applause was vibrant, but Sam could only stand bedazzled in place, his mind racing.

After the performance, you disappeared behind the curtains, and Sam decided to follow. He finally found you standing by a vanity, draped in a silk robe, sipping water to recover from your performance.

“Uhm… hey,” Sam’s voice was soft.

You turned, startled, but your expression softened when you saw him.

“Sam?” you replied, equally surprised. “What are you doing here? I haven’t seen you in ages!”

“I could ask you the same thing!” he said with a chuckle, stepping closer. “Since when do you - wait, that was you out there, wasn’t it?”

You smiled sheepishly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Uhm.. I… It’s… a long story.”

Sam shook his head, still processing. “You were incredible. I mean, really. That wasn’t just a performance… it was art.”

The honesty in his voice made your cheeks warm. “Thanks, Sam. It’s not always seen that way, but it means a lot coming from you.”

As you chitchatted, Sam realized how much he’d missed during college, how little he’d known about this side of you. He listened intently as you spoke about your passion. There was a light in your eyes that made the chaos of the world seem distant.

A quiet moment stretched between you, the buzz of the gala fading into a distant hum. Sam broke the silence with a smile. “So… think there’s any chance I could convince you to teach me a move or two?”

You laughed. “Sam Winchester, pole dancing? That’s a sight I’d pay to see.”

He chuckled, shrugging. “Hey, a guy can dream.”

But as you looked into his eyes, you couldn’t help but wonder if some dreams were worth chasing after all.

[vonnebenan]

trying something new

[gojosprettyprincess]

Older boyfriend! Toji who never lets you leave the house to attend your classes without stuffing his bitter cum up your cunt in the morning. :(

It’s like seven in the morning and he’s sipping on the freshly brewed cup of coffee you made for him a few minutes earlier while the nasty, loud squelching of your soaked pussy sucking his dick in filled the early morning atmosphere.

Your plaid skirt is weakly brunched up around your waist, the fabric delicately ruffled, and your panties are struggling to stay hooked against your right cheek. You're practically drooling on the wooden dinner table like a little slut. Your poor legs are quivering and shaking in front of his muscular ones while he's just straight up blowing your back out from behind.

“Dear God, you hear how fucking mouthy this cunt is early in the morning?” He winced at the noise, cursing under his breath as he gazed down at his girthy cock disappearing into the warmth of your creamy hole. Every time he pulls his cock out, a glistening trail of cum shimmered at the thick base of his shaft, some even clinging to his curling pubic hairs like pearls in a tangled web.

“Aww is she thanking my cock for splitting her in half? How generous”.

Your whole body involuntarily trembles under the persistence of his roughness. each furious stroke of his angry tip skillfully hitting your sweet spot over and over with precise force sent shivers down your shine. “D-daddy m’gonna b-be late for class!” you managed to gasp out between whimpering moans. Your voice strained and ragged. But he just chuckles in response, his raspy laughter from his morning voice filling the room.

“Oh yeah? Yer not gonna anywhere till my seed is overflowing out this pretty pussy, darling”. He growls. His firm grip on your hips tightens, and his slender fingers kept digging into your soft skin— leaving marks that are going to remind you of his possession and roughness throughout the entire day.

“Fucking hell, you’re dripping everywhere. This cunt’s fucking soaked, it’s just seven in the morning and you’re already creaming like some horny slut” he grunts harshly, biting his bottom lip as he began bullying his cock in and out of you faster.

“Bet your classmates would love to see you like this, all messy and stuffed full with your older man’s cock”. The warmth of his breath creates a tantalizing contrast against your tender neck, making the tiny hairs from the back of your neck rise.

You bite your lips in an attempt to suppress the pathetic moan that was threatening to escape your lips from his humiliating words. Your body starts betraying you as you imagine the scandalized look on everyone’s face to see your boyfriend’s seed slowly steeping out your used cunt.

“N-no Toji, please…” you whimpered softly, your eyes screwed out and cunt clenching tighter around his veiny shaft.

“Fuck you’re so dirty, baby”. He silenced your pathetic noises with a rough kiss, his tongue invading your mouth just as his fat cock invaded your snugged cunny :(. He sucked on your tongue and swirled his around yours to exchange the stringy saliva. You can’t even think straight at this point, your mind a blur of pleasure and an overwhelming desire to please the older man.

With a sly grin, he gently withdrew from the kiss, his warm lips skimming down the curve of your jaw before settling on the delicate shell of your ear. A mischievous glint sparkled in his eyes as he whispered, “You want my fat load deep in this little cunt while you walk into class, feeling it leaking down your pretty thighs?”.

Your face flushed with an overwhelming wave of embarrassment as his hot breath caressed your ears, leaving you unable to form coherent thoughts. You could barely nod, already gone stupid from his abusing cock. “Mmm, that’s what I like to hear, good girl”. He praised with a smug and teasing tone. “I’ll give it all to you, don’t worry”.

“Yer such an obedient little cumslut for daddy aren’t ya doll? He questioned with a light chuckle. He’s always so amused by your fucked out state, he thinks you’re so adorable being dumbed down and stupid from his cock. Your slick, pulsating hole tightly embraces his throbbing cock, gripping onto him like you wanted to suck his soul out of his body.

The prominent veins of his cock rubbed against your velvety walls, massaging your insides and causing an overwhelming sensation of pleasure. He hissed loudly in your ear before speeding up his pace.

He felt your weeping cunt clenching tighter around him, like a vice, threatening to milk every last drop out. “Yeah that’s it, keep squeezing me. You’re so filthy baby, milk daddy’s cock dry” he slammed into you with renewed vigor, his heavy balls practically making love to your swollen clit with each powerful thrust.

Your moans turned into desperate cries, echoing through the morning air. Your needy pussy is spasming around his cock in a powerful orgasm. He could feel your juices flowing out, adding to the creamy mess between your plush thighs.

“Oh fuck, baby you’re making so much mess on Daddy’s cock, yer tryna mark me or something?” he hissed, his cock thumping with a familiar coil in his balls. “M’gonna breed this filthy pussy. Gonna fill it up so full that my seed is gonna leak out of you all day long”.

With one final thrust, he buried himself all the way inside of you— filling you up to the brim so his buttery cum spurts out into your womb. His cock was twitching and pulsating inside of you, making you whine and wiggle your ass back at him at the warm feeling as he emptied his fat load— jet after jet of hot cum shooting into your fucked out hole.

“Good God— fuckk!” the older man lets out a guttural growl, His large body shuddered as waves of pleasure coursed through him. With a possessive gesture, he wrapped his arm securely around your waist, pulling you close as both of you tried to calm your racing hearts and catch your breaths. His cock continued twitching as your heart raced in unison.

“Thereee we go doll, now you’re all stuffed n’ ready for class” he placed an affectionate kiss on your delicate neck, his breath ragged as he slowly withdrew his cock out of your stretched hole— being so careful that he doesn’t spill any of his precious sperm.

His cock slides out with a wet sound before he quickly reaches for your panties and pulled them over your ruined cunt. He gently pulled your skirt over your round ass and smoothed it so it didn't look all wrinkly and mashed up. So you’ll look like an actual neat and well-put together girl, as if you weren’t just fucked into a brainless slut seven in the fucking morning by your sex addict boyfriend.

“Meet me in the car and don’t make any of my fucking cum spill out of you or we’re gonna have to start again, you hear me?”

[kisses4reid]

criminally hot | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,

summary - you get wrongfully accused by a sheriff, and it isn’t you who’s angriest. it’s your boyfriend who has to expose your relationship in order to clear you.

genre - spencer x bau!fem!reader, fluff, slight angst if u squint, angry reid x calm reader

wc - 1.2k

warnings - reader uses she/her pronouns, handcuffs, violence, a weird white man i know id be fucking scared as well, oh swearing as well.

a/n - i love u you’re so awkward i am doing so well bc of ur request, keep requesting things your brain is crazy. ummm anyways this is my first time writing this kinda thing omg how exciting okay start reading it wtf you still doing here?

request - ( from @babyoureahauntedhouse ) omg hii!!! :3 this is my first time requesting, so please excuse the awkwardness 😭😭😭😭 first of all, how are you????? i hope you’re doing amazing!!! absolutely no pressure, but can you do one where reader gets falsely arrested (not a huge thing, maybe in a police station at a small town or something) and spencer absolutely **loses** his shit at how she’s being treated????? like, she’s freezing and the sheriff or somethjng keeps pushing her and then he just bursts into the interrogation room and uncuffs her and it’s just very fluffy???? thank you!

Emily handed you your coffee with a smile, receiving a small thank you in return. It was warm in your hands and created a comforting contrast to the cool chill of the police precinct you were set up in.

Things were going well given that you’d only been in the small town for half a day. The team debriefed on the plane, but Aaron had been on the phone with the leading detective for at least an hour now asking him where he was.

Emily headed off to the restrooms when a slender hand made its way to your waist. You turned and felt your cheeks heat, knowing exactly who is was.

“Hi Spencer.”

“Hi Y/n.” His eyes held sweetness in the chocolate swirls, and you felt like a kid who had been given candy. Spencer and you had been dating for a few months, but somehow in a team of profilers you both kept things under wraps, even with Spencer’s clumsy touches and your lingering stares. “I wish we were home,” he whispered.

You glanced around for anyone who could witness your interaction and get suspicious, but you were mostly alone other than Hotch and some officers who were weirdly taking a lot of attention to you.

“Yeah me too. I’m feeling oddly popular and not in the good way.”

Before you could talk more or offer him a sip of your coffee (even if you know he doesn’t like it), Aaron calls his name and the slim tall boy scurries away with a straight face.

You turn to find something to do. To reread a case, to help someone fill out papers, to talk to Morgan or Garcia. You would’ve opted to huddling in your cardigan if a tall man didn’t interrupt.

“Y/n L/n?” He asked in monotone. His arms were at his sides, one hovering above a pair of cuffs that hung from his police belt. Furrowing your eyebrows you answered,

“Yes? What’s wrong?”

“You’re under arrest for the robberies of…”

His voice pounded into the background of your head, thoughts attacking your eyes through a sudden headache as the words registered before you could help it. The room was silent except for the man’s voice, yet all you could hear was the furrow of eyebrows and quick approach of your boss, Aaron Hotchner.

“What’s going on here?”

“Your agent has been seen…”

You stood still as another officer came behind you and forced handcuffs onto your arms, gripping your wrists with unnecessary force that would surely leave bruises. You winced and looked between your boss and the officer, and then at Spencer, who was being pulled back by Morgan. He yelled your name in worry, witnessing the hardened grips on your body and rough pushing you were being subject to. Your coffee splattered on the ground, staining your white shoes.

There was only mumbles and white noise, as your eyes met with Spencer’s. The large officer behind you kicked your leg to get you moving, the shock glueing your shoes to the rubbery floor. And you almost didn’t even notice the hand on the back of your neck pushing you towards a dark room with a desk and two chairs.

You were so familiar with these rooms and yet it felt so different.

Of course, you didn’t actually do anything. And of course you attempt to clear that up to the officers who are slamming their hands on the table and screaming as much as they could, in a poor attempt to intimidate you.

Aaron was in the corner with a scolding face and hard hand to his chin, observing the situation with an intensity you barely ever see.

“Last month, you were seen at one of the houses that got robbed over night. You left a few days later, after also being seen at two of the other houses-“

“So she was seen at three of the ten houses robbed and you arrest her?” Aaron spoke up, bringing the men’s attention to your boss instead of you. You took the opportunity to look outside of the window.

Though it wasn’t clear, you could make out the outline of a tall boy you wished would just break into the room and save you.

And he did.

“Your evidence is illogical and childish. She’s an FBI agent for gods sake-“

“Anybody can be a suspect Agent Hotchner, even federal agents.” The tall one replied with a stubborn mumbled.

Suddenly, the door was slammed open and you were met with a disheveled Spencer panting with a red and severe face. He didn’t even bother looking at you before he starting schooling the men in blue, who at that point were glaring at him and attempting to look more intimidating than they actually were.

“I’ve read your files on this case and nothing links to Y/n L/n, not one-“

“There’s no way you read our-“

“I can read more in a minute than you can in a day, dickhead. Y/n was meeting old school friends when she was in town, we went to the Diner Inn afterwards and we met with her parents who have receipts for the meals because they’re-“ he turned his glance at you,” “sorry Y/n- they’re hoarders. You have nothing against her other than some positively reported visits and some photos of her hugging the house owners.” Spencer had slowly pinned the officers to the opposite wall unconsciously. It was hot. “I was there, I’m her receipt. And like her parents, she loves keeping those. So if you want to insist she’s your culprit, go for it. But your going against a man with eidetic memory and a lot of evidence.”

And while he was logical and correct, he was also a little too truthful.

The officers blinked in fear. Spencer definitely didn’t seem the type to yell or swear, so this clear, concise and undermining approach to the situation was somehow even scarier.

“Spencer,” you began, “thank you.”

He looked at you, his expression softening into empathy and care, “Of course.” His hands found a key in his back pocket as he approached you, starting to promptly uncuff you.

As Aaron continued to speak with the officers of their major mistake, Spencer took you outside of the room and into a private office. Your heart was racing, but it seemed Spencer was more stressed than you. He paced as you leaned onto the front of a wooden desk, hands over your chest as your eyes trailed Spencer.

“I’m sorry, Y/n. I should’ve reacted faster, then you wouldn’t have been..” He stopped closely in front of you, his breath hot on yours as his gaze scoured over your body for injuries or bruises. “Are you okay?”

You smile calmly, “I’m fine. My leg hurts, and I think my wrists will be bruised, but I’m fine.”

He took your hands and rubbed his thumbs on your wrists carefully, causing butterflies to explode in your stomach.

“Thank you Spencer.” Your eyes dance with each others. “You were really hot. Maybe I need to get arrested more often.” You joke with a lift to your voice and a smirk, causing him to look down with a smile and shake his head.

“If being angry makes me hot maybe you should reevaluate what you-“

Your lips found his, you hand going to his bicep and his going to the back of your neck, before a clearing of the throat took you both out of your trances. It was Hotch.

“I’ve got some paperwork you both need to sign. About the arrest and,” his hand waved between you two, “this.”

Morgan stood behind Aaron with a smirk, leaving quickly to go tell Garcia that she had lost their bet.

taglist: @jeffswh0re @reap3erslov3 @candyd1es

[arijackz]

PICK A CARD: How You Hypnotize

❤︎ "People are afraid, very much afraid of those who know themselves. They have a certain power, a certain aura and a certain magnetism." - Rajneesh

Disclaimer: This is a general reading, take what resonates. This is a gender-neutral reading, change any pronouns to apply to you.

p1 → p2 ↙︎ p3 → p4

✿ Pile One (5oW, Strength, 8oC, Judgement)

Do you have Mula (Sagittarius), Magha (Leo), or Ashwini (Aries) placements? You’re giving off some serious last-one-standing energy. Mula is particularly known for its ability to defy all odds, taking down a “beast” that seems far stronger through wit and quick resolve. It embodies the Belle archetype—well-read, gentle, and kind—able to reign in even the most formidable challenges. This energy suggests a remarkable strength in navigating difficult situations, using intelligence and empathy to emerge victorious.

Life has tried you, pushed you to the brink, and dangled you over a cliff. All while a crowd of people whooped and hollered, rooting for your demise.

But guess what… you’re the one sitting pretty on top of a mountain while everyone else is where?… oh, AT THE BOTTOM OF THE FUCKING CLIFF!

I didn’t plan this reading to be so… boastful? But you deserve to puff your chest out, babe.

You’ve had enemies. Honestly, this isn’t common. When the average person hears about somebody having a lot of “haters” they brush it off and assume that person just has a big head. However, that’s your reality. Your energy triggers people so they consider you a threat to whatever they have going on. For some of you, this could be your own family or closest friends. 

There’s a quiet, obsessive intensity behind your eyes. The fire element is prominent in this reading, indicating a deep, aching desire to consume, burn, and clear everything in your path. While you may feel exhausted from a lifetime of battles, your soul thrives on challenges, igniting a fierce determination within you. This duality fuels your passion, pushing you to confront obstacles head-on, even when the struggle feels overwhelming. Embrace that fire; it’s not just a source of exhaustion, but also a wellspring of resilience and transformation.

🎵YOU KNOW WHEN TO HOLLLDDD ‘EM, KNOWW WHEN TO FOOLLDD ‘EMM, KNOW WHEN TO WALLKKK AWAY, KNOW WHEN TO RUUUUUNNNNNN! 🎵

Your intelligence transcends mere book smarts and common sense, creating an incredibly hypnotic aura around you. Your situational awareness allows you to navigate social dynamics effortlessly, running circles around people, and leaving them tangled in their own webs of thought. You’re scarily smart, a strategic thinker who sees layers others miss. There’s a striking contrast between your physical appearance and the cunning nature beneath the surface; you may look like a doll, seemingly delicate and innocent, but there’s a fierce and dangerous intellect at play. This duality not only captivates those around you but also keeps them guessing about your next move. You also possess incredible endurance—not just in a physical sense, but in your ability to withstand a remarkable amount of bullshit that would have caused most people to tap out long ago.

People look at you and think, “How?” How are you still standing, and how did you manage to come out on top? This aura of resilience draws some people in, compelling them to want to learn your secrets. However, not everyone’s interest is innocent; for some, it morphs into a dark obsession, pushing them to challenge your resolve and see if they can crack your thick skin. This dynamic creates a complex dance around you, where admiration and envy intertwine.

P.S. Even if you’re not Ketu dominant or a Mula native, please watch Claire Nakti’s, The “Final Girl” Astrological placement research video, you will definitely resonate. If you comment, tell them AriJackz from Tumblr sent you!

Okay bye, MUAH 💋

✿ Pile Two (Knight of Pentacles, 2oS, Strength, 7oC (S?), The Star, Judgemental, Short, Melancholic, 4oP)

“HEART BEEN BROKE SO MANY TIIMMESSS

I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO BELIEVEEE

MAMA SAYS IT’S MY FAULLT, IT’S MY FAULLTTT

I WEAR MY HEART OF MY SLEEEEVVVEEEE!”

It’s not your fault, baby! Bitches are just greedy 🙄

This is straightforward, you’re a star! You have that undeniable je ne sais quoi, ¿Cómo se dice… “Everyone wants to be them” energy. As a multi-faceted individual, you possess countless layers that draw people in. Each aspect of your personality holds a unique appeal, making it so that there’s a piece of you that everyone desires. This captivating nature not only sets you apart but also invites beggars who benefit from being near your energy. 

You’re not consciously aware of this power and that’s what makes it great; it’s not manipulated or curated, you just are. In your younger years, you were like a fairy prancing around with a basket of love, giving away pieces of your heart to anyone who looked your way with sad little-kicked puppy eyes. 

However, the world is full of greedy hands that have no intention of giving as much as they receive. You were born with a heart of gold and encountered these all-consuming energies quite early in life, prompting you to spend your adolescence developing discernment and better judgment to avoid getting burned again. This journey has shaped you into someone who values authenticity and reciprocity, allowing you to navigate relationships with a keen awareness of what truly nurtures your spirit.

Even if you don’t feel you have anything explicitly special about you, everyone else sees that you do! In a world where many feel boring and unoriginal in their own skin, your vibrant energy can be a source of irritation for those who struggle with their own identity. Your unique shine serves as a reminder of what they lack, sparking feelings of envy or frustration.

Although, that doesn't mean they won’t play nice in your face while robbing you blind behind your back. You learned this the hard way. 

“There's an old saying in Tennessee — I know it's in Texas, probably in Tennessee — that says, fool me once, shame on — shame on you. Fool me — you can't get fooled again.” - George W. Bush

YOU DON’T PLAY. You hold your magic close to your chest and are very weary of possible leeches. This guardedness reflects your hard-won wisdom; you know how precious your energy is and are selective about who gets to share in it. THIS IS HYPNOTICCCC.

Your presence is exclusive; not just anyone gets to brush shoulders with you. This rarity makes people eager to be seen as special enough to get close to you. You have options—a variety of choices in friends, partners, lovers—and that selectivity only heightens the allure. People yearn to be among the few you hand-select to join your inner circle, hoping to share in your energy and insights. This creates a magnetic pull, as they aspire to earn a place in your life.

If you didn’t know this, I’m telling you now. Look back on your social interactions and the slick words said to you, probably people accusing you of thinking you’re the shit (you are), and you’ll see just how much of a star you are. 

P.S. Some of you are tiny little spitfires. I don’t think that’s important, but I felt inclined to mention it. If so, that adds to the allure. 5 foot nothing but your attitude is 10 feet tall.

Okay bye, MUAH 💋

✿ Pile Three (Knight of Pentacles, 2oS, Strength, 7oC (S?), The Star, Judgemental, Short, Melancholic, 4oP)

You’re a storm, baby. I know I got some Adra natives in the cleerrb!

A few days ago, my 59-year-old neighbor and I were walking around the park, it was eerily quiet- no children were playing in the field and the trees were the stillest I had ever seen. Breaking the silence, she told me about a belief in ancient Hindu folklore that on days when the sky is framed in dark, dense clouds and the winds are still- not a single gust rustling the trees- the Earth is waiting with weighted breath for the outcome of a long-withstanding battle against good and evil.

She said that when I woke up the next morning, to check the news and see if a famous politician or some powerful person behind the scenes had died- thus being defeated. I checked; a few notable names had passed but the stand-out thing that happened was a vision I saw in a dream where an ex-friend sent me a letter in the mail admitting to some harmful actions I had growing suspicions about. This finally put my mind at ease and reaffirmed my gut intuition. 

I don’t know how to say this without sounding so… metaphorical/poetic, but you’re the person divine consciousness sends to represent the light’s grand victory. You are the embodiment of a prevailing soul. With all ten swords in your back, you’ll get up again and again. 

You’re not sent to the world as the Universe’s sparkling trophy because of luck; no, you’re highly regarded because you walked the same path, you’re no stranger to going to war and coming out with more than a few bumps and scrapes. 

This is not a flashy victory. Not like in the movies where you get ganged up on by bullies, pull out karate moves, whoop some ass, and come out looking like an underdog. This war consists of consecutive, painstaking setbacks and challenges slowly chipping away at your character, leaving behind a shell of a person for you to pick the pieces up and rebuild stronger. It’s a series of quiet battles fought within, where the scars aren’t always visible but the growth is profound. Every moment of doubt, every instance of perseverance, shapes you in ways that aren’t always glamorous but are deeply transformative.

You have scars that manifest as art, each one a mark of survival. Artistic souls look at you and see a single tree still standing after a hellish storm—roots deep in resilience, branches reaching for the light. Each scar is a testament to your journey, a story etched into your skin, reminding the world that even after the fiercest winds, life is reborn with greater tenacity to endure and thrive. 

You carry a thick atmosphere with you, whenever you’re coming the Earth seems to hold its breath to await you. You’re not abrasive or stand-offish, conversely, you’re quite soft, well-balanced, and can even be romantic at times. But that only emphasizes the sharp, heaviness of your presence. 

Yea, we all go through shit but do we all come out the other end with an open heart and willingness to live life optimistically? Fuck no 😭😭.

Somehow... you do and that’s hypnotic as fuck, my love! It’s like, hOW?! Even if people didn’t see the wars you fought, your backbone poses itself like a warrior’s. The way you carry yourself speaks volumes; it imprints on the minds of others far more than words ever could. Your presence is magnetic, a silent testament to your strength and resilience. Talking is just the bare bones of communication; it’s your spirit, your aura, that truly captivates. 

LMAO you’re the type to say less than five words to someone and they’re running back to their friends telling them you’re different from everyone else.

P.S. Your key to bagging anyone you want is your eyes, learn to flirt with your eyes. 

Okay bye, MUAH 💋

✿ Pile Four (The Emperor, Ace of Wands, 3oS, Judgement, The Fool, courageous, Spiritual, Observant, Self-assured, Thirsty, Aimless)

Hmmm, you’re a playboy, stay far away from my easily attached heart, DEMON 🫵.

I’M PLAYING. But for real, you knew the answer to this question before you chose the pile LMFAO.

You’re just plain sexy! That’s it! You’re vivacious and a smooth talker; you like to razzle dazzle your way into people’s minds where your imprint overstays its welcome, making them sick with their lack of permanent access to you.

You’re a social butterfly, flying from person to person, pollinating them with the attention they yearn for, and then flying off to the next adventure, leaving them dizzy with the need to catch and keep you in a cutely decorated mason jar with poked holes up top. Of course, this would kill you, so stay how you are, beautiful!

This might be a bit explicit, but you have a unique way of stirring people’s desires. You don’t need to be overtly sexual; it’s your rare lack of fear of rejection that draws people in. At least, that’s how others see it. In a social world laced with fear, you seem to have an optimistic mentality where, “Every shot you don’t take, you miss.” So you are one of the few humans who aren’t riddled with worries about how you’re perceived and people’s judgments of your character. What is rare is wildly hypnotic.

People thirst over you, like foaming-at-the-mouth rabid dog ARFF ARFF BARK BARK type of thirst… in silence. You are actually way too intimidating to approach. Male or female, socially, people perceive you as high quality and assume you get a lot of attention that the everyday person can not compete with, so they only daydream from afar. 

You’re arm candy. Throughout writing this I pictured famous videos of celebrities like Angelina Jolie, Jhene Aiko, and Chris Evans seducing and unnerving the interviewer through subtle actions. Like the other piles, your aura is the dominant communicator and it doesn’t take much for you to get a mf barking. 

People fear you’ll break their hearts, but funnily enough, you’ve entertained one or two losers in the past and left relationships with a few scars and stories you have to sniffle through to tell. But that’s okay; those experiences teach us how to discern who deserves to be in our lives and who doesn’t. You only let them in because you try not to discriminate, and truly just have a deep passion for connection with anyone and everyone you encounter. Never change, you’re the flame the rest of us moths flock to.

P.S. Discernment and trusting your judgment is a lifelong study; don’t beat yourself if someone who you thought had your best interest at heart, doesn’t in reality. Count that towards your research, dust yourself off, and try again. You’re too brave to let a liar stop your ability to enjoy human company. 

Okay bye, MUAH 💋

[paxtito]

and they were roommates

pairings: tara x reader (g!p)

word count: 2717

warnings: smut 18+, masturbating, oral (r receiving), p in v, swearing

summary: tara is out running errands, she’d be gone for hours- or so you thought

a/n: i’m working on multiple request atm— wenclair x reader one and the radiohead song (i’m just listening and reading the song to get an idea atm) also thank you to the anon for requesting this and their kind words!

The dorm is quiet, unusually so, and it’s kind of nice. Tara had mentioned heading out for the day—something about running errands and meeting up with Sam—and while you’re used to the hum of her presence, the silence isn’t unwelcome.

You glance around the shared space. It’s small but cozy, a mix of her personality and yours crammed into every corner. Her side of the room is meticulously organized—her books stacked neatly, her bed made with precision. In contrast, your side looks… well, lived-in. A pile of clothes rests precariously on your desk chair, and your bed is a haphazard mess of blankets and pillows.

You plop onto your bed, phone in hand, scrolling mindlessly through social media. Without Tara around, you’re left to your own devices—literally. You snort at a meme, sending it to her out of habit.

“That’s stupid,” she’d probably reply, but there’d be a hint of fondness in it.

After a while, you glance at the clock. Noon. The day stretches ahead, and you find yourself feeling restless. You could clean up your side of the room, but… nah. Instead, you wander over to Tara’s desk.

Her books catch your eye first—old classics mixed with crime thrillers and a few surprisingly heartfelt poetry collections. You pick one up, flipping through the pages idly. A note scribbled in the margin catches your attention, her handwriting sharp and deliberate: “This makes no sense. Why didn’t he just leave?”

You chuckle softly. Even in her annotations, Tara’s blunt honesty shines through.

Your gaze drifts to her bulletin board. It’s a mix of pinned photos, ticket stubs, and little reminders. One of the pictures is of the two of you, taken on move-in day. You’re grinning like an idiot, throwing up a peace sign, while she’s glaring at the camera, her arms crossed—but there’s a subtle upturn to her lips that gives her away.

You flop onto your bed, the old springs creaking under your weight. The small TV in the corner flickers to life as you jab at the remote, the sound of canned laughter filling the room. It's some trashy reality show, but it's mindless and distracting—just what you need right now.

As you settle in, your gaze drifts around the room. Tara's side is always so pristine, everything in its place. It's annoying how tidy she is. You, on the other hand... well, your side looks like a bomb went off in a thrift store.

You reach for the bag of chips on your nightstand, tearing it open with a loud rip. The salty scent mingles with the faint smell of Tara's lavender body spray, creating a strange but not unpleasant odor.

You munch away, eyes glued to the screen, as snippets of conversation from the show drift through your thoughts.

"I think I'm going to kill her," one of the contestants is saying, her voice dripping with fake sweetness.

You snort. Yeah, right. They're all too busy primping and preening to actually do anything. Unlike the Ghostface killers, they've got no balls.

You check the time again, just to be sure. Tara won't be back for at least a couple of hours. With the coast clear, a mischievous grin spreads across your face. Time to take advantage of the privacy.

You reach over to your bedside table, fishing around in the drawer until your fingers close around the cool, smooth bottle of lotion. You pop the cap open with practiced ease, squirting a generous amount into your palm. The slick, slightly cold sensation sends a shiver down your spine as you rub your hands together, warming the lotion.

With your other hand, you unlock your phone and pull up your favorite porn site. Your fingers fly over the screen as you type in your search, already feeling the familiar stirrings of arousal. A few taps later, and a video starts playing, the sounds of moaning and grunting filling the now-silent room.

You settle back against your pillow, one hand already slipping beneath the waistband of your sweatpants. Your cock is already half-hard, twitching in anticipation. You wrap your fingers around it, giving it a slow stroke as you watch the scene unfold on your screen.

You stroke your cock slowly, teasingly, savoring the building pleasure. Your other hand roams over your chest, pinching and tweaking a nipple through the thin fabric of your shirt. The dual sensations send sparks of electricity shooting through your body, making your hips buck up into your touch.

On screen, the actress lets out a particularly loud moan, and you match it with a groan of your own. Fuck, that's hot.

Just as you're getting into a rhythm, the door to your dorm swings open without warning. You freeze, your hand still wrapped around your throbbing cock, as Tara steps inside.

"Shit!" she exclaims, her eyes widening as she takes in the scene before her. You're sprawled on your bed, pants pulled down, phone in hand, and a sticky puddle of lube on your stomach.

Mortification floods through you, and you frantically try to cover yourself, grabbing a pillow and pressing it over your lap. Your face burns with embarrassment, and you can't meet Tara's gaze.

"I-I thought you said you'd be gone for hours!" you stammer, trying to come up with some excuse. But there's no hiding what you were doing.

Tara stands in the doorway, frozen in shock. Her eyes dart between your flushed face and the pillow. After a moment, she seems to shake herself out of her stupor.

Tara's eyes flick down to the pillow, then back up to your face. Her expression is unreadable, but there's a glint in her eye that makes your stomach flutter with nerves and excitement.

She steps further into the room, closing the door behind her with a soft click. The sound seems to echo in the tense silence.

"I didn't mean to interrupt," she says, her voice low and teasing. She saunters over to your bed, the mattress dipping under her weight as she sits on the edge.

Your breath hitches as she reaches out, her fingers brushing against the pillow in your lap. Slowly, she pulls it away, revealing your straining erection. You whimper at the sudden exposure, the cool air hitting your overheated skin.

Tara's gaze rakes over your cock, and you feel yourself grow even harder under her scrutiny. Her tongue darts out, wetting her lips, and your hips twitch involuntarily.

"Looks like you were in the middle of something," she purrs, her hand resting lightly on your thigh. Her touch is electric, sending shivers racing up your spine.

You swallow hard, your mouth suddenly dry. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't think you'd be back so soon," you manage to say, your voice coming out breathier than you intended.

Tara leans in closer, her breath ghosting over your ear. "Don't apologize," she whispers, her lips brushing against your skin. "I think I can help with that."

And then, before you can process what's happening, she's sliding down your body, her hands pushing your legs apart. You gasp as her mouth hovers over your cock, her hot breath fanning over the sensitive skin.

"Fuck, Tara," you groan, your fingers tangling in her hair as she takes you into her mouth. The wet heat of her tongue is almost too much to bear, and you buck your hips, desperate for more.

Tara hums around you, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure through your body. She bobs her head, taking you deeper each time, her hand wrapping around the base of your cock.

Your head falls back against the pillows as Tara works her magic. Her mouth is a wonder, hot and wet and so damn perfect. You can feel every ridge and valley of her tongue as it glides along your shaft, tracing the veins and swirling around the head.

"Fuck, your mouth feels so good," you groan, your hips rocking up to meet her movements. Your fingers tighten in her hair, gently guiding her pace.

Tara hums in response, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. She takes you deeper, her nose brushing against your pubic bone as she swallows around you.

The sight of her, head bobbing in your lap, lips stretched obscenely around your cock, is almost too much to handle. You feel yourself getting close, your balls tightening and your stomach muscles clenching.

"Tara, I'm gonna..." you warn, your voice strained and breathless.

But she doesn't pull away. Instead, she doubles down, her head moving faster, her hand pumping in tandem. She looks up at you through her lashes, her eyes dark with lust and something else, something intense and hungry.

It's too much. With a guttural groan, you explode in her mouth, your cock pulsing as you spill your seed down her throat. She swallows it all, not spilling a single drop, and continues to suck and lick until you're spent.

Finally, she releases you with a lewd pop, sitting back on her heels and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She looks immensely pleased with herself, a satisfied smirk on her kiss-swollen lips.

You collapse back onto the bed, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. Your whole body feels like jelly, boneless and sated.

"Holy shit," you breathe, running a hand through your sweat-dampened hair. "That was... wow."

Tara giggles, the sound low and sultry. She crawls up your body, straddling your hips and leaning down to capture your lips in a searing kiss.

You roll over, pinning Tara beneath you on the bed. She looks up at you, her eyes dark and hooded with desire. You capture her lips in another heated kiss, your tongue delving into her mouth to taste yourself on her tongue.

Your hands roam her body, slipping beneath the hem of her shirt to caress the smooth skin of her stomach. She arches into your touch, a soft moan escaping her lips.

Breaking the kiss, you sit up and pull her shirt over her head, tossing it carelessly aside. Your eyes drink in the sight of her, clad only in a lacy bra. You lean down, trailing open-mouthed kisses along the swell of her cleavage.

Tara's fingers thread through your hair, tugging gently as she holds you to her. "More," she breathes, her voice husky with need.

You oblige, reaching behind her to unclasp her bra. It falls away, freeing her breasts to your hungry gaze. You take a moment to admire them, full and perfect, before lowering your head to take one pebbled nipple into your mouth.

Tara gasps, her back arching off the bed. You lavish attention on her breast, sucking and nibbling until she's writhing beneath you. Your hand slides down her stomach, slipping beneath the waistband of her jeans.

"These need to go," you murmur against her skin, hooking your fingers in the denim and pulling it down her legs. She lifts her hips to help, kicking the jeans off and leaving her in just a pair of matching lace panties.

You sit back on your heels, taking in the sight of her laid out before you, flushed and wanting. Your cock twitches, already hardening again. You reach down to push your own pants fully off, kicking them away.

Tara's eyes widen as she takes in your naked form, her gaze zeroing in on your erection. "Fuck, you're so hot," she breathes, her hand reaching out to wrap around you.

You grind your cock against her, feeling the heat of her through the thin lace. Tara gasps, her hips lifting to meet yours, seeking more friction. The rough drag of your hard length against her clothed clit sends sparks of pleasure shooting through you both.

"Please," she whimpers, her fingers digging into your shoulders. "I need you inside me."

You don't make her wait any longer. Hooking your fingers in her panties, you yank them down her legs, tossing them aside carelessly. Tara spreads her legs wider, inviting you in.

You position yourself at her entrance, the head of your cock nudging against her slick folds. Tara's breath hitches, her eyes fluttering closed as you press forward.

You sink into her inch by delicious inch, groaning at the tight, wet heat enveloping you. Tara is so fucking perfect, her walls gripping you like a vice. You bottom out, your hips flush against hers, buried to the hilt inside her.

"Fuck, you feel so good," you pant, fighting the urge to just start pounding into her. Instead, you hold still, letting her adjust to the stretch.

Tara rolls her hips, urging you on. "Move," she demands, her nails raking down your back.

You don't need to be told twice. You start to thrust, setting a steady rhythm that has you both gasping and moaning. The room fills with the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin and the creaking of the bed.

Tara wraps her legs around your waist, using the leverage to meet your thrusts. Her tits bounce with every snap of your hips, and you lean down to capture a nipple in your mouth, sucking hard.

"Yes, just like that," Tara hisses, her head thrashing on the pillow. "Don't stop."

You have no intention of stopping. You fuck her hard and fast, chasing your pleasure and hers. The coil of heat in your belly winds tighter and tighter, signaling your impending release.

You can feel your orgasm building, your balls tightening and your thrusts becoming erratic. But you force yourself to slow down, to focus on Tara's pleasure instead of your own.

Tara's nails dig into your shoulders, her teeth sinking into your neck as she holds on for dear life. Her walls flutter around you, tightening and releasing in a rhythm that tells you she's close.

You redouble your efforts, angling your hips to hit that spot inside her that makes her see stars. Tara keens, her body tensing beneath you.

You reach between your bodies, finding her clit with your fingers. Tara bucks against your hand, her hips moving in frantic circles as you rub tight circles over the sensitive nub. You can feel her getting closer, her inner walls starting to flutter around your cock.

"Come on, baby," you urge, your voice low and rough. "Come for me."

Tara's body goes rigid, her back arching off the bed as her orgasm crashes over her. She cries out, her pussy clamping down on you like a vice as she comes undone.

The feeling of her coming around your cock is too much. With a guttural groan, you pull out, your hand flying over your shaft as you stroke yourself to completion. Your cum spurts out, painting Tara's stomach in thick, white ropes.

You collapse beside her, both of you panting and sweaty. Tara turns her head to look at you, a lazy, satisfied smile on her face.

"That was intense," she murmurs, reaching out to brush a sweat-dampened lock of hair from your forehead.

You grab some tissues from the box on your nightstand, quickly wiping the cum from Tara's stomach. She sighs contentedly as you clean her, her body still tingling from the aftershocks of her orgasm.

As you toss the used tissues aside, you can't help but let your gaze wander over her naked form. Tara is a vision, her skin flushed and glowing, her hair splayed out on the pillow like a halo. She looks thoroughly debauched, and the sight sends a fresh wave of desire coursing through you.

But then reality starts to set in. You just had sex with your roommate. Your best friend. What does this mean for your relationship? Will things be awkward now?

Tara seems to sense your thoughts. She sits up, pulling the sheet around her naked body. "Hey," she says softly, reaching out to cup your cheek. "We okay?"

You nod, not quite trusting yourself to speak. Tara smiles, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your lips.

"Good," she murmurs against your mouth. "Because I want to do that again. Soon."

With that, she hops off the bed, completely unselfconscious in her nudity. She pads over to her closet, rummaging around for something to wear.

You watch her, your mind still reeling. What have you gotten yourself into?

—

request: where reader and Tara are roommates and reader thinks Tara is out so reader starts to masturbate but Tara comes home early and walks in on reader so she gives a helping hand (a blow job) then they do it yk?

[zkg2318]

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.

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“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.”

[idiotgojo]

eye fucking satoru <3

tags; gojo x reader | fluff, suggestive (?) | jealous (?) insecure (?) reader

note; here's some comfort before the next chapter leak... gojo comeback 😩

"I'm not jealous, I'm just—" you waved your hands in frustration, unable to put words to match what you were feeling. That was all you could manage. Gojo, on the other hand immediately understood. He smirked, narrowing his eyes at you.

"You really don’t realize the effect you have on me, do you?"

And that was how you ended up on top straddling him, both of you still fully clothed. The heat of his body radiated through your thighs as you sat on top of him.

“What are we even doing? I’m tired. Let’s just go to bed,” you sighed, trying to lift yourself off his lap, though a part of you wasn’t entirely convinced.

"While my princess is mad at me? I'd rather die than let you sleep upset with me," he murmured, his voice low and teasing. His hands tightened on your waist, keeping you locked in place, as his gaze softened just a little with a pout.

Suddenly, a wave of insecurity hit you out of nowhere. You were usually confident—quick-witted, and perfectly aware of your beauty. But something about the way that other woman had flirted with him earlier stirred doubts. She was a contrast of you—different hair, a niche style, a whole different vibe. Was Gojo craving something new? Was he tired of you?

Just as your mind began spiraling, his palm faintly tapped your thigh, bringing you back to the present. You bit your lip, refusing to meet his eyes, knowing if you did, you might just fall apart in front of him.

"Look at me," Gojo said softly, yet firmly, as he gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. Your eyes remained fixed on your fidgety hands in your lap. But Gojo wasn’t the type to let things go so easily. He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered,

"I dare you to look into my eyes and see what happens."

You hesitated, but curiosity, or maybe just him, got the best of you. Slowly, you met his gaze.

In seconds, you felt it—him hardening beneath you, unmistakable and sudden. You gasped, instinctively glancing down at his growing length pressing against the thin fabric of your clothes. Heat rushed to your cheeks as you blushed furiously.

Gojo chuckled, reaching up to grab your chin with one hand, tilting your head up to meet his eyes again. His other hand slid up your thigh, teasing.

"Now do you see the effect you have on me?" he asked, his voice loud with excitement, eyes locked on yours that sent a shiver down your spine. The corner of his mouth lifted in a sly smile as he waited for you to respond.

Words failed you, your brain fuzzy, buzzing with the intensity of the moment. Instead, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a searing kiss. His lips claimed yours, biting gently on your lower lip, eliciting a moan from you. The pressure of his body beneath yours, the friction as you rocked your hips against him—it all made your pulse race, drowning out every thought but him.

Both of you groaned softly into each other’s mouths, hands roaming feverishly. The heat between you was undeniable, and the tension finally snapped as you deepened the kiss, tongues tangling, breathing ragged and needy.

That night, Gojo didn’t just show you his desire—he made it clear that you were the only one he ever wanted. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word left no room for doubt. You were his one and only.

disclaimer (?); a lot of ??? in the whole post, which is probably because I'm not even a real writer. I just write for fun, a place to collect and keep my scenarios I create in my head before I go to bed lol. This is my first written piece! Enjoy :)

© idiotgojo 2024 do not steal or translate. if you wish to use the idea and create a better fic please tag me :)

[thedemises]

——— A BITE OF LOVE。 ★ jiaoqiu.

note; og idea — the idea of feeding your partner food & kissing them over the pots is so beautiful n intimate I wanna cry /j

“say, ‘aaah’ ,” a spoon was brought over to where your lips are, a red liquid emitting a spicy yet delicious scent into the air enters your nostrils. even while you're reading, jiaoqiu always has an excuse to make you his taste testee for his new dish.

“mhmm,”

your eyes still remain focused on your own business as you obediently open your lips for him to push the spoon into your mouth, the splash of hot flavor hits your tongue as you savour the tasty soup your partner had provided you to taste — of course, he made sure to blow on the spoon for you beforehand.

although it tasted as it was you expected from his excellent culinary skills, despite being a healer (“using food to treat my patients is my specialty, y'know,” is what you recall him saying a while ago), something was off; a missing element perhaps.

“well?” his large, furry tail sways behind him while jiaoqiu anticipated for your awaiting response, eyes shut with a smile and scheme in his heart, he knows how honest you can be with your feedback — which is why he deems you best when it comes to tasting his spices and whatnot, or anything in general; if you will.

even though your eyes were trained on something else at the moment, you still paused to make the effort to share your thoughts on jiaoqiu's soup.

“it just needs a pinch of salt, but it still tastes as exceptional as you are.” you remarked just as you slowly turned a page, your eyes flickering from the book to settle on jiaoqiu, unintentionally giving him a chance to lean in and press a chaste kiss on the lips.

it felt like a second too long but he pulled away just as quickly as it came, chuckling a bit at your taken aback expression.

“thank you,” and just like that, jiaoqiu swiftly leaves your area with a satisfactory look on his face. his tail swaying behind him while he makes his exit out of the room.

you stare dumbfounded from where he just left; the flavoring of pepper, paprika, chili powder, and other constituents still lingers on your tongue like an unforgettable, pungent aroma.

subsequently that same day, jiaoqiu had called you over to help him prepare rations for his patients. despite your initial confusion, you still agreed to help either way — to help others is something you like to do, occasionally.

“here, see if you like this,” jiaoqiu, yet again, calls you over as he motions for you to try something he’s eager for you to taste. of course you can't say no — although you're busy mixing something in one of the pots and the two of you are just a few feet apart in the kitchen — you faced your body towards him and moved forwards. you notice him offering something that seems to have filling of some sorts, it looks delicious too that you can't seem to resist... well, it's jiaoqiu; anything he makes is very appetizing.

with an eager bite, the treat yielded to your teeth, releasing a burst of flavor that spread across your tongue. the creamy filling mingled with the crisp outer layer, creating a harmonious blend that made you hum with delight. the contrasting textures and tastes melded together perfectly, creating a delicious explosion on your palate. you hum in delight, expressing your visible contentment.

“mm, that's good.”

you comment, gazing back at jiaoqiu with a smile and he smiles back; satisfied with your reaction as he settles the treat to the side on a plate.

“I think your food's trying to escape—it's on your face,” the foxian chuckles as he points out the small mess you had on the side of your mouth, where a smudge of filling lingers as you savor the last bites of the treat. you murmur a small ‘oh,’ and your hand reaches to wipe it off for yourself.

then, with a quick motion, jiaoqiu swipes the smudge of filling from your face onto his finger before you could. pausing for a moment, he brought it to his lips and licked it right off.

“mm...” he lets out a noise of consideration, a playful glint in his eyes as he savors the flavor. “... delicious.”

the peach foxian whispers and leans in, pressing a brief yet tender kiss to the corner of your mouth where the smudge had been, a fleeting act of affection that lingers longer in your heart than on your skin. without a word, he steps away, returning to whatever task had called him, as if the moment was as natural as breathing.

for a heartbeat, the world feels suspended, the gentle warmth of his gesture radiating through you. it’s only the soft bubbling of the soup in the pot that pulls you back to reality, your hand resuming its stirring almost instinctively. though your thoughts remain adrift, you can't help replaying the sweetness of the moment in your head.

© thedemises 2024. do not feed to ai, copy, steal, rewrite, or claim as your own. I will hunt you down for my sake.

[jukeboxsweethearttt]

for older sugar daddy rafe and reader would you write their first argument or something like that

Book of Love

Oldersugardaddyboyfriend!Rafe Cameron x Fem Reader

cw:angst:( but has a fluffy ending, talks of pregnancy, Rafe’s oldest daughter Claire is older than you, Victoria is the same age as you and Hannah is younger than you. no use of y/n I think

inspired by @starfxkr sugar daddy Rafe ofc

The sprawling lawn of Rafe’s Hamptons estate basked in the glow of the setting sun, creating a picturesque scene that starkly contrasted with the storm brewing inside.

The dining room, typically a place of warmth and laughter, was now tense with an unfamiliar strain. You sat at the end of the long, gleaming table, your hands clasped tightly in your lap. Rafe stood across from you, his stance rigid and his eyes filled with frustration.

His three daughters, Claire , Victoria, and Hannah, watched the scene unfold with a mix of concern and unease.

This was the first serious argument you and Rafe had ever had. It had started over the charity gala—a high-profile event you had been working on tirelessly.

“Rafe, I just want to make this event something special, something that showcases what we can achieve together,” you said, your voice trembling slightly.

Rafe, his expression hard, replied, “This isn’t about showcasing us, Bunny. This is about making strategic decisions. You need to understand the stakes involved.”

Claire, the eldest, shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She shared a look with her sisters, Victoria, and Hannah, the youngest of the bunch.

Claire finally spoke up, her tone gentle yet firm. “Dad, she’s trying to help. She’s put a lot of effort into this.”

Rafe’s eyes softened momentarily as he looked at his daughter, but his frustration remained palpable. “I know, Claire, but this is more complicated than just putting in effort. Experience matters here.”

You felt a lump form in your throat. “Rafe, I’m not just some inexperienced kid. I’m trying to contribute, to be a part of this.”

Rafe’s gaze turned steely. “You are young and inexperienced. You don’t get how high the stakes are. This isn’t some game.”

Your heart sank at his words. Tears welled up in your eyes as you struggled to hold back your emotions.

“I can’t believe you see me that way,” you whispered, standing up abruptly. “I thought we were in this together.”

Victoria stood, her face a mix of anger and disappointment. “Dad, you’re being unfair. She’s doing her best.”

Rafe ran a hand through his hair, his frustration boiling over. “Life isn’t fair, Victoria. I’m trying to protect her from making mistakes that could cost us.”

You couldn’t bear it any longer. Tears streaming down your face, you rushed out of the room, the sound of the door slamming echoing through the house.

Claire glanced at her father, shaking her head in disappointment before following you outside.

Rafe stood there, his anger giving way to a heavy silence. Hannah finally spoke up, her voice quiet but firm. “Dad, you really hurt her.”

Outside, Claire found you sitting on a garden bench, your shoulders shaking with sobs. She sat down next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“Hey, it’s okay. He didn’t mean it he’s just stressed,” she said softly.

You wiped at your tears, shaking your head. “It’s not okay, Claire. He thinks I’m just some naive child.”

Claire sighed, her heart aching for you. “He’s scared, that’s all. He doesn’t know how to handle this.”

You took a deep, shuddering breath. “I can’t handle all of this stress. There’s something I need to tell you,” you said, your voice barely a whisper.

She looked at you, concern etched on her face. “What is it?”

You met her gaze, your eyes filled with a mix of fear and hope. “I’m pregnant. I just found out a few days ago.”

Claire’s eyes widened in surprise she knows you’ve wanted children of your own but was shocked at the news considering her dad’s age.

Deep down she’s kind of indifferent but pushes those feelings to the side quickly as you started to cry again from her silence.

She quickly pulled you into a tight hug. “Oh my God, that’s news. Have you told him yet?”

You shook your head. “No, I was waiting for the right moment. But now... I don’t know if there ever will be one.”

She pulled back, holding your shoulders. “You need to tell him. It might be exactly what he needs to hear.”

Back inside, Rafe was pacing the living room, his frustration giving way to a deep sense of guilt. Victoria and Hannah watched him, their expressions stern.

“Dad, don’t you think you were a bit harsh?” Victoria asked, her voice steady but reproachful. “She’s part of our family.”

Rafe stopped, his shoulders slumping. “I know, I just... I don’t know how to handle this.”

“You handle it by respecting her,” Hannah said softly. “She’s not a child, Dad. She’s your partner.”

Just then, Claire walked back in with you, your face still streaked with tears but your resolve stronger. Rafe looked up, his heart aching at the sight of you so upset.

“I’m sorry,” Rafe began, but you held up a hand to stop him.

“Before you say anything, there’s something I need to tell you,” you said, your voice steady. “I’m pregnant, Rafe.”

The room fell silent, Rafe’s eyes widening in shock. He took a step towards you, his expression softening. “You’re... you’re pregnant?”

You nodded, tears spilling over once more. “I found out a few days ago. I wanted to tell you in a special way, but...”

Rafe closed the distance between you, pulling you into his arms. “I’m so sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m just... scared. Scared of not being good enough.”

You looked up at him, your eyes filled with love and determination. “We’re in this together, Rafe. We can make it work, but you have to trust me. Trust us.”

Rafe nodded, his eyes brimming with tears. “I promise. I’ll do better. I’ll trust you, and I’ll be there for you and our baby.”

Claire, Victoria, and Hannah watched the exchange, their expressions softening with relief but making a mental note to discuss this sudden pregnancy announcement later.

The tension in the room began to dissipate, replaced by a sense of hope and renewed commitment.

Later that evening, you found yourself in the kitchen, helping Victoria prepare dinner.

Victoria glanced over at you, offering a small smile. “I’m so happy that you stood up to him,” she said softly. “Dad needed a wake-up call.”

You returned her smile, feeling a warm sense of acceptance. “Thanks, Victoria. It means a lot that you understand.”

Meanwhile, in the living room, Rafe sat with Claire and Hannah. Claire leaned forward, her expression serious but kind.

“Dad, she’s good for you. We see how happy she makes you, but you have to let her grow up. She’s got a good head on her shoulders.”

Rafe nodded, his eyes thoughtful. “I know, Claire. I just… I’ve spent so much time trying to protect everyone that sometimes I forget to let go. I’ll work on it.”

Hannah, who had been quiet until now, chimed in. “We all want the best for you, Dad. And for her. Just remember, she chose to be with you because she loves you, not because she needs a protector.”

Their words resonated with Rafe, who realized just how much he had to learn about balancing his protective instincts with respecting your independence.

He stood up, feeling a mixture of gratitude and determination. “You’re right. All of you. I’m lucky to have you four looking out for me.”

Back in the kitchen, Victoria was dishing up the last of the pasta when Rafe entered. He walked over to you, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“I’ve been talking with the girls,” he said, his voice soft and earnest. “And they’ve made me see things more clearly. I need to let you live your life, make your own choices. I’m so proud of you for standing up to me.”

You looked up at him, your heart swelling with love and relief. “Thank you, Rafe. That means a lot to me.”

Dinner was a warm, lively affair. The five of you sat around the table, sharing stories and laughter. The earlier argument seemed like a distant memory, replaced by a stronger sense of family and mutual respect.

Claire and Victoria teased Hannah about her latest crush, while Rafe kept his hand on yours under the table, a silent promise of his commitment to change.

As the evening wore on, you found yourself sitting on the balcony with Rafe, the moon twinkling above. He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close.

“You know, Bunny, I’ve never felt this way before. You’ve brought so much joy into my life.”

You rested your head on his shoulder, feeling content and secure. “And you’ve given me a life I never dreamed possible, Rafe. I’m so grateful for you.”

Rafe tilted your chin up, looking deeply into your eyes. “I promise to always support you, to let you be your own person. We’re partners in this, equal partners.”

You kissed him softly, the love between you palpable. “Thank you, Daddy. That’s all I ever wanted.”

As you both sat there, you felt a deep sense of peace. The argument had brought you closer, teaching you both valuable lessons about trust and love. And as Rafe held you close, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together.

The next morning, Rafe surprised you with breakfast in bed, a gesture that made your heart flutter. He sat beside you, watching you eat with a content smile.

“I thought we could spend the day together, just the two of us. How does that sound, Princess?”

You grinned, feeling the excitement bubble up inside you.

[vivalabunbun]

When It Rains, Why Does It Pour?

Summary: Sand is quite a nuisance, it creeps into every crevice and no amount of dusting can free oneself from its stubborn hold. Yet, the tide still greets the shore.

Word Count: 8.8k (oh no...)

Tags: Neuvillette x GN!Reader, human!reader, SFW, fluff, childhood friends AU, Slow Burn, Slow Fic, Angst, Hurt with Comfort, themes about reincarnation, TW: Themes about death and loss, themes about aging, immortal x mortal AU, not lore accurate, reader is an attendant, human prejudice, Spoilers Warning: His story quest and archon quests, speculations about his past in Fontaine, why is he so mysterious

Authors Note: This was a challenge trying to write from the POV of a man you don't even know the name of, but I just had to write something for him. A character study of Neuvillette. Enjoy!

How long has it been since he first arrived here? One month? Two? Or perhaps it has already been a year? The young dragon wasn’t too sure.

The days seem to blend together when one only eats, studies, and sleeps all on repeat. A cruel trait of time. The weather outside the glass windows didn’t provide any hints either.

However, he himself is to blame. 

A gray haze concealed azure skies as rhythmic drops of rain hit the earth. Blocking out the all-seeing sun and nurturing moon, the murky clouds above even hinder the stars from accompanying him.

A true reflection of his current solitude. 

The young dragon arrived in the human world, brought over by the lord of Fontaine. Due to the nature of his arrival to this nation, he was given status and importance in the eyes of the citizens. However, he has yet to receive acceptance. 

The grand estate in which he resides was staffed with countless butlers and maids, renowned chefs, and skilled tutors. He was wanting of nothing, yet still impoverished. 

He could see it in their mortal eyes, he could sense it in the tangible silence of the halls, he could tell from the distance each mortal put between themselves and him. 

Much like the towering stone walls which surrounded his private residence.

Was it to separate themselves from him or himself from them?

A question he entertains as lilac eyes scan over the aforementioned wall. Its gray stones are a welcomed change from the dry parchment with even drier content. 

As he observes the drab stones contrast against a dreary sky, a small flash of white cuts through the somber composition.

Catching his lilac eyes as they follow the strange shape, it drifts through the capricious wind before the breeze grew bored and tossed it to the ground.

Studying it a bit further, the young dragon identifies the object as a simple pillowcase. Nothing more than a scrap of fabric. 

He reasons that the wind must’ve stolen it from some clothesline. Just when he was about to return to the legal ledgers a rustling came from the bushes lining the bottom of the wall.

A small frame pushes apart the thick vegetation, creating enough space to finally free themselves from the entangled mess of branches. 

The towering wall, the one meant to separate him from the mortals, was defeated by a mere child.

A child who’s clumsy brushing the twigs from their garments and shaking a few raindrops from their hair. He watches as the small human trots toward the discarded pillowcase, a pout forming on their lips as they observe the mud that had seeped into the silk. 

Judging by the simple attire they don, they must be the child of a maid. 

Ah humans, fickle and temperamental creatures created by the usurpers. It took a conscious effort on his part to stop the frown threatening to appear on his lips.

Seems like he still needs to get used to their presence. 

It was as if the child sensed the bitterness in his thoughts because soon a pair of wide eyes connected with lilac. Even with the sun hiding behind dreary clouds, there was a light that twinkled in their irises. 

It was only for a minute, no, even less than that. But a young dragon and a young human held each other’s gaze. 

The child’s shoulders jolt as they turn their head back toward the wall, as if a voice called for them. Casting one last glance toward the young dragon, the child trots back toward the wall, disappearing within the murky viridescent. 

And that was the end, like the breeze that littered a scrap of fabric among the grass, the small human came and went.

Such fickle creatures, the young dragon gives it one last thought before returning his attention back to a cluttered desk. 

–

Amongst the soft drumming of droplets came a tap against the glass too sharp to be caused by the gentle rain. Causing the young dragon to turn away from the stacks of books laid out before him.

The wet glass obscured a small flicker of an orange glow, thus he walked closer to investigate. With each step, the figure outside the window became undeciphered.

That small human again. 

Locking eyes with the human outside the glass, the fickle creature’s lips curl up, the glow of their lamp illuminating the curiosity behind their gaze.

A human child doesn’t have the potential to cause much if any harm to him. Thus, he releases the lock, removing the glass barrier separating two breathes. 

“Hello! What is uh… your name?” They chirp out. 

His sharp ears picked up the clumsiness in their speech, the subtle unfamiliarity of the words they spoke. Distinct signs that you were still learning the language of Fontaine, much like him.

Although he understood your question, he was too distracted to answer. Lilac eyes wandering off toward the stone wall. Within the entangled mess of twigs, there was a small parting.

A part just wide enough to reveal the secret the bushes desperately tried to hide: A small hole along the bottom of the stone barrier. Just enough for a small creature to slip through. 

Discovering the truth behind how a small human was able to defeat such a seemingly impenetrable wall. 

The pattering of the rain was interrupted by the rustling of fabric, drawing his attention back to the small human in front of him.

The child rummages through their pockets before pulling out a lump covered by a handkerchief. Peeling back the layer of fabric to reveal some conch madeleines, presenting fragmented sweets before the young dragon. 

“It tastes good, I promise.” A small hand extends itself further through the open window. 

Observing the crumbly sweets laid out upon a handkerchief, the young dragon halted the rejection that almost escaped his lips. Remembering the concepts he had just been reading before this.

Humans tend to follow a set of unwritten rules, principles they like to call ‘manners’. There weren’t any punishments issued by law if those rules were broken, no imprisonment or fines.

However, narrow-eye stares and whispers behind backs were the punishments issued to transgressors by society. 

So, he accepts a piece, trying to ignore the sand-like sensation against his tongue. As he chewed, the grin on the human’s face only got wider.

“Now that you’ve taken one, you have to give me your name, it’s only uh… fair!” 

Ah, it looks like he’s been tricked. Falling into the clumsy sugar-coated trap only a child could come up with. Yet, as his lilac gaze caught the twinkle still ever so bright in their eyes, he didn’t have the strength to form a frown. 

Just a curious human child, only as dangerous as a firefly buzzing in his ear. There shouldn’t be any harm in disclosing the surname bestowed upon him by this nation.

“Neuvillette.” He finally said his first words to you. 

A peculiar pattern is recurring. That rainy night when Neuvillette opened those windows, it looked like he welcomed a phenomenon in as well. 

Even in his current state, a small human like you could pose no possible threat to him. Thus, whenever a certain tap was placed against the glass. He saw no reason to turn away the visitor. Allowing you to climb in through his window time and time again.

It would’ve been better if you used the door. However, he’s aware of the complications such a request would bring.

Perhaps it’s because he’s currently in the form of a young child, sharing a similar stature to yours. From his observations, humans do have a tendency to gravitate toward those with similar traits. Or perhaps, you’re just exceptionally brazen. 

Neuvillette glances up from his book, thick with endless sentences describing obscure and frivolous laws, landing on your frame lazing around upon a rug.

One hand holds onto a collection of fables, pages illuminated by the gentle rays of a star. While the other periodically reaches out toward a pile of conch madeleine.

A sight he’s come to expect now. 

Lavender eyes follow your hand as it brings another one of the crumbly sweets to your mouth again. You brought them over under the pretense of sharing them with him, yet they’re already half gone. The only hand reaching for the sweets being yours.

Just like how it was last time, and the time before that, and the one before that as well. 

If you felt this complacent in his presence now, then perhaps he can be more candid with you. As is common practice among humans to present a polite front that gradually wears away each recurring meeting. 

“You do not have to bring over any more conch madeleine.” 

The moment those words left his lips the motion of your hand halted, looking up to connect your sight with his, confusion pinching together your brows.  

“Oh? Why so suddenly?” The collection of fables now resting on the rug. 

It’s already been done, the first ripple in the frangible water between you and him. There is nothing that can cease the waves that accompany the first breach. He might as well say the whole truth. 

“They are dry, I cannot fathom how you can bring yourself to eat them.” Prescriptive eyes caught a faint flinch as you processed his edict.

“They taste fine to me…” You mutter, picking another one up. 

This time you chewed slower. The pinch between your brow only grew as you tasted the sweet again, searching for the perceived flaw.

As you met his gaze once more, he could tell your search brought forth no fruitful conclusions. Thus you asked another question in response.

“Then what do you like?”

Besides the pleasantries commonly exchanged between humans in Fontaine, Neuvillette recognizes he lacks the talent for small talk.

The room usually filled with your grievances about whichever tedious task you were assigned before you slipped away behind a wall and into his private residence. Ambient noise which accompanied each flip of a law book. 

It is long overdue for him to pull his weight in a conversation. 

“Water, spring water.”

“Huh?”

Neuvillette repeats his sentence but the scrunch of your brows doesn’t ease up, he couldn’t fight the urge to draw in a deep breath. So this is the limitation of the human palate, how regrettable. 

“Perhaps you are still too simple to appreciate the qualities of water.” 

The pout upon your crumb-covered lips morphs into a tight line, sealing away your voice.  The brightly printed cover of a storybook was shut as the last few remaining treats were bundled away in a napkin. 

Your tea break ended early today, impassive eyes following your figure as it disappeared among the thick vegetation beside a stone barrier. 

It was quiet today, not even a single parting uttered past your sealed lips. Therefore leaving the conversation unfinished. 

But that is today, you’ll have another tea break tomorrow, and you’ll come to him with your grievances about chores tomorrow as well. 

The young dragon returns his focus to the text in front of him. 

–

The soft hymn of raindrops against a glass window reverbed through the solitary study, providing a melody for the periodic flips of paper. But the melody was hollow, incomplete.

Shifting his body to look behind himself at the vacant rug, Neuvillette deduces why. The accompaniment was missing. 

That tomorrow he had come to expect never came. 

Had he committed a transgression? Overstep a line outside his place? Food is a point of pride for many humans, one oddity he’s yet to grasp.

These temperamental creatures tend to lash out when their pride is wounded, much like how a beast reacts to an unhealed cut. 

Neuvillette was curious as to whether this was an inherent trait of humanity or a learned by-product of the fickle principles imposed on themselves.

However, observing the abandoned storybook tucked away, the young dragon is leaning towards the former. 

Turning back to face his desk, his eyes could only glaze over the monotonous scribbles. Perhaps the cause of his spiritless attitude was disappointment, disappointment in himself. 

It looks like he was careless, deluding himself with the misconception that you and him were alike. Two outsiders who found solace in each other’s presence.

However, this was false. You were an outsider to Fontaine, but he was an outsider to this world where humans walked. 

He’s still too naive.

Fickle and temperamental creatures spoiled by the usurpers at the expense of his ancestors.

Why did he even entertain the thought that you and him could ever be alike?

Something stirred from within, like when pebbles were thrown into still water, but what were those pebbles? As Neuvillette ponders this conundrum, the drumming of the rain grows louder. 

However, it wasn’t loud enough to swallow up the sharp set of taps which interrupted his somber reflection. Jolting him from his thoughts, snapping his attention to the source of the noise.

There stood a figure distorted by the wet glass as another set of sharp taps sounded through the room. 

Before Neuvillette could even process it, his body moved without his command. Unlatching the lock and setting the window free from its frame.

Not sparing another second to the raindrops soaking into their cloak, the figure clambers through the window with practiced proficiency.

Without uttering a single greeting, not even one pleasantry, you situated yourself on his floor. Melting into an undignified lump on the pristine tiles as bewildered eyes watched you.

After catching a few breaths, an explanation finally makes its way to his ears. 

“T-they… they patched… up the hole,” you huffed out between short breaths. 

Ah, the small cavity in the stone wall that you used to escape from chores. Looks like the security at the estate finally noticed.

Gauging the height of the wall from his place by the window, he’s aware of how it towers over both him and you the same.

This brings up another question as he returns to observe your frame, still trying to catch the breaths that evade you. 

“I… ran… through the gates… before the… Gardes noticed…” Exhaustion evident in your eyes as pants break up your sentence. 

Ah, looks like his question was answered before he even inquired. To be puzzled or amazed, he wasn’t too sure how to categorize this ripple inside him.

The tomorrow that’s been missing for a little more than two weeks, is now right in front of him.

Panting and leaving a few muddy traces along the marble floor, but here nonetheless. 

With one deep motion of your lungs, you pushed your body up, finally getting ahold of your breath. The familiar rustle of your pocket, the audio cue for a certain dry sweet to appear. Neuvillette didn’t mind in the least.

Perhaps, he can bear the sandy sensation just for today. But tomorrow is always filled up with surprises, a glass bottle finding its way out of your pocket instead of sugary treats. 

“What is that?” An obvious question, but his voice found its way out of his mouth.

“Water, water from the servant’s well, I bottled it myself.” A small hand holds the bottle out more. 

“Thank you,” Neuvillette accepts it into his hands. 

He should really acquire some glasses to pour the water out into, it’s improper and bad manners to drink from the bottle.

However, his curiosity was greater. Or maybe, he didn’t realize just how parched he had become from waiting for tomorrow. 

Uncapping the clumsily packaged water, he takes a generous sip. 

“It’s sweet.” His tongue picking up on a subtle saccharine undertone. 

“Really?” Your hand reaches up as that familiar shine illuminates your eyes. 

Taking a sip from the bottle passed back into your grasp, your brows furrowing in concentration. Another sip was taken from the bottle as you continued to search for the sweetness in the water you’ve always drank.

A sight that tugged up at the lips of a boy still studying the shape of your quirked brows. 

Humans, fickle, perplexing, yet astoundingly curious creatures from the very beginning.

If he is to walk amongst the human world, then it’s best for him to be equally curious. To try and search for the harmony between two different breaths. 

A child of a maid far from their homeland. A status too insignificant to warrant the attention of Fontaine's factions, freeing you from their prying eyes and entanglements.

Therefore, it should be alright for him to continue observing you, no?

“Ahh… The rain is so unpredictable here in Fontaine, trying to hang out the wash here is always a gamble.” You sink further into the plush cushions of his settee. 

As the sun rose and fell, as the leaves grew green then gold, as the ground froze and thawed.

One thing remained unchanged throughout these cycles even as they repeated: your grievances over chores. 

The frequency of these complaints reaching his ears has increased, on the part that you now took over more of your mother’s responsibilities in managing the laundry of this estate. 

Besides your habitual complaints of the weather, one detail didn’t escape Neuvillette’s hearing: your proficiency in the Fontainian language has increased significantly.

Words no longer spoken clumsily or with unfamiliarity. Accent nearly indistinguishable from a native speaker. 

“The people here are fond of creating strange machinery, why can’t they make something to dry clothes?” You resume. 

The quill in his hand stops as he pauses in the middle of a sentence, glancing over his shoulder toward your slouching figure making yourself comfortable in the sofa that’s more familiar with your shape than his. 

“Perhaps you should be the one to create it, studying might do you some good as well,” came his curt response. 

His candid advice makes you sink further into the cushions with a groan. 

“I’d rather travel than study those jumbled-up books about machinery or whatever, in fact, I want to visit my homeland as soon as I can,” you grumble aloud. 

Ah, that’s right, you’re approaching the age where you could travel freely.

By law, you won’t be bound to the side of your mother, not needing any permission to come to and fro however you wish. No longer kept at this estate washing and folding sheets.

Indeed, you and him found yourselves in similar situations: on the cusp of freedom from this estate. 

While he was deep in thought, you filled the silence left behind by posing a question to him. 

“Do you plan on visiting your homeland anytime soon, Neuvi?” 

By now, the young dragon had stopped expending the effort to try and correct you in your butchering of his surname. Your reason being ‘it’s too long’.

Alongside you, he has grown in stature as well, elapsing you some time ago much to your dismay. If he wished to travel, not much would pose a problem to the young dragon.

However… where could he return to? A homeland… was there a section of his homeland untouched by the usurpers? If he were to go, would he ever want to return to this world?

Sensing the change in the air, dreary clouds blocking the sun’s rays from your skin, you were perceptive enough to ramble about a different matter.

Namely, how the chef of the estate recently changed the type of flour used in the kitchens, resulting in pastries and sweets that were less airy but more flavorful. 

Explaining to him the subtle improvements and deterioration in the quality of some baked goods. Filling the air of the study with bright-eyed ramblings until rays of light peek out from waning clouds. 

–

“Monsieur Neuvillette! It’s been a while since you’ve visited!” Soft patters of skipping steps made their way to the tall man. 

Tilting his sights down, Neuvillette greets the cheery melusine with a gentle smile which she returned with an equally bright grin.

While on a routine stroll along the riverbanks to stretch his legs after a long day, he found himself at the entrance of Merusea Village.

He wonders if it's his body’s natural response to get away from the Palais Mermonia and Opera Epiclese. 

Carrying him toward the direction of a secluded reprieve he discovered far away from the suspicious eyes of weary humans.

Condemnatory eyes were constantly pinned to the back of the young dragon who had recently emerged from a sheltered estate to sit in the grand seat of a Chief Justice. 

Days filled with nothing but a cacophony of voices echoing off the opera house walls. Screams from the accused and the eager murmurs of spectators blended into nothing more than a chaotic din in his ears. 

Gazing deeper into the small lake, the unsuspecting entrance to a hidden haven that the Melusines called home.

It would only take a moment, just one dip into the pristine water for him to disappear from the clamorous mortal realm.

Abandoning the overly grand seat of his post as easily as it would take for his head to vanish under the tranquil tide.

How great would it be to exist in the presence of creatures who could resonate with his own adriftness?

Maybe, he could finally discover the purpose of his current form and longevity in their company. Yes, that sounds about right. 

Just as the water wet the tip of his overly ornate shoe, all motion his body stills at a familiar call. 

“NEUVI!” Came a voice from just over the beaten path. 

Soon your silhouette follows the echo of your call, steps hurried yet worn.

When the young dragon departed from his temporary estate and into the Palais Mermonia, a certain specter followed him as well.

The same specter who’s currently huffing to catch their breath after such a rush. Trying to gather enough air to form their next sentence. 

“There you are! The grand tailor sent me to fetch you because you’re almost an hour late to the fitting of your new robe, they need to make sure the measurements are correct,” you chide. 

The exasperation of your words was most definitely caused by the fact you had to physically exert yourself in your search for the wandering Chief Justice. Evident by the pout on your lips and scrunched nose. 

His attention was quickly torn away from your recuperating figure by a faint tug of his slacks.

The Melusine had hidden herself behind his legs, creating a barrier between her and the strange mortal who seemingly appeared from the blue.

Her sudden movement caught your attention as well. 

Ah, that’s right. The Melusines have yet to be acquainted with humans, and humans with Melusines.

Two different species, two different breaths, and two different sets of eyes that can’t seem to see directly into each other. 

If his time within the wall of the estate and Palais Mermonia had proven anything, it would be the natural adversity humans had to differences.

Neuvillete certainly wasn’t prepared for such an event, nor was he sure how to handle it. 

In the midst of his inaction, your hand reached into your pocket, fumbling around before pulling out a handkerchief-covered lump.

Despite the soreness in your legs, you lowered your body until you were at eye level with the shorter Melusine. 

“Hello there, would you like some conch madeleines?” Unraveling the fabric to reveal the sweets which you seem to have an abundant supply of. 

The grip on his slacks tightened as she glanced up at him, lilac eyes catching the hesitance in her irises. Neuvillette gives a subtle nod, giving just enough reassurance for the small creature to release his pant leg.

Reaching a mitten-like hand toward the golden sweets, it only took one bite for the hesitance in her eyes to be replaced by a bright twinkle. 

“It’s tasty isn’t it?” Your lips formed a wider grin.

The Melusine responds with an eager nod, too occupied with bringing more of the buttery treat into her mouth.

At the sight of her restless chewing covering her cheeks with faint crumbs, you let out a giggle.  

“I’ll give you the rest of the sweets if you tell me your name,” you offered. 

After a few moments of the Melusine finishing her previous bite, she falls for the same trap he had many years ago. 

“My name is Carole!” She chirps. 

“What a wonderful name.” Your gaze softened further as you held out the treats, keeping your promise. 

As Carole reaches for more, she glances back up. Wide eyes twinkling as she inquires him with the one thought currently on her mind.

“Monsieur Neuvillette, does the human world have more treats as delicious as these?”

Ah, it looks like the stroll Neuvillette took today to relieve himself of mounting troubles only led him to more. 

The skies over the Court of Fontaine have been in a pensive stalemate, all too familiar clouds blocking azure hues. However, rain has yet to patter on the ground, as if the weather was unsure of itself. 

A feeling shared by the Chief Justice currently sitting at his desk, reviewing the details of the day’s trials. Albeit, half heartily. 

Much like the skies crowded with clouds, in the solitude of his office, his mind rang loud with thoughts. Neuvillette only had himself to blame for the current silence of his office, it’s been this way for around a week going on two now. 

Lilac eyes peered over the tops of the papers toward the shut doors, concealing him away. There hasn’t been a knock on those doors for some time now, due to the diligent Melusines who followed his request.

Turning away potential visitors with crafted excuses of ‘The Chief Justice is handling a very important case’ or ‘My apologies, but the Chief Justice is very busy’. 

Neuvillette recognizes that he’s currently no different than a child hiding away from the consequences of a broken vase. 

How childish, he chides himself as he returns back to his responsibilities. How would the citizens of Fontaine react to their Chief Justice conducting himself in such a manner?

He’s sure if Lady Furina were to catch wind of his behavior, she’d be greatly entertained. 

As if the mere mention of the nation’s archon presented a bad omen, the sturdy doors of his office swung open, revealing the face of a familiar visitor who’s been turned away one too many times. 

“My my, it’s been quite some time since I’ve seen the inside of this office, I almost forgot what it looks like,” you remark as your eyes hone in on him. 

The child’s hiding place under the bed has been exposed. 

“Good afternoon, I was not made aware you had any appointments with me.” Neuvillette’s own eyes trail past yours. 

From behind the door frames the figures of two Melusines quickly dodged away from his sight. A silent admission of guilt on their part, and Neuvillette didn’t have to look hard to deduce the crime they’ve committed: Accepting bribes. 

The evidence was right there in the form of buttery crumbs left on the corner of their mouths. Ah, you and with those conch madeleines of yours. 

It’d be best for him to finally handle the situation at hand, one he’s been trying to maneuver out of. 

“If I recall correctly, you were granted a vacation, why not take this chance to travel? It certainly is a prime opportunity-”

“Why have you been avoiding me, Monsieur?” you cut through the long-winded pleasantries and excuses. 

His lips press together, by now he’s well accustomed to your brazenness. However, the absence of a familiar name only said in your voice made the guilt weigh heavier on his shoulders.

Guilt which originated a few weeks prior. 

—

On a secluded riverbank, a routine walk under clear skies was halted. You were knelt down on the ground, uncaring of the sand sticking to the fabric of your clothes, as you held a Melusine between your arms. Two mittened hands clung to you as she soaked your shoulder with tears. 

“W-why? Why did he have to go?” Her sobs interrupted by sudden hiccups. 

As you rubbed circles into her back, something he saw humans do to soothe their crying young, Neuvillette watched from the side. Much like how he would observe those performances within the Opera Epiclese. 

Liath is her name, a diligent Melusine who patrolled the grounds of the Palais Mermonia. By her side, there would be a guard poodle who’d matched her skips with his prances. An inseparable duo, or it’d be more accurate to say, they were once an inseparable duo. 

Dogs are a species domesticated by humans, some might argue that they were created by humanity through generations of selection. So it stands to reason that they too would have a limited lifespan.

In fact, they have a lifespan even more restricted than that of the mortals who tamed them. 

The Melusines have just begun walking amongst humans, there were still many aspects their sheltered minds have yet to grasp. The fleetingness of mortality is one of them. 

Thus, Neuvillette did his best to caution them. 

However, just like how laws can’t completely stop crimes, his words can’t completely prevent such tragedies. All he could do was try.

“I’m sorry for your grief, this was the very reason why I cautioned you against getting too attached to him… A dog’s life is brief-”

“Monsieur Neuvillette.” 

The sentence died at the tip of his tongue as his eyes met yours. Gaze narrowed and brows furrowed, not even the Chief Justice dared to interject any further.

After you silenced him, your focus returned back to the grieving Melusine. 

Slowly standing back up from the ground, her frame cradled in your arms as her sobs continued. 

“I know it hurts,” you whispered, one hand patting her back, setting a steady rhythm reminding her to breathe. 

“B-but why? W-why is it so sad?” she hiccuped. 

You hummed, beginning to bounce her a bit within your hold. 

“Wouldn’t it be sadder if you never met him?” 

At your question, the Melusine stares at you through teary eyes. Expression lined with confusion. 

“To have loved him, and for him to have loved you in return…isn’t that enough?” You cooed, taking steps away from the riverbank. 

Still frozen in his place, the dragon could only stare at your back as it grew further and further away, soon disappearing from his view. 

He had misspoke.

Neuvillette recalled last Autumn. As the vivid hues of the foliage shriveled up to nothing more than a shadow of their former beauty, you laid your mother to rest. Burying her in a cemetery which overlooked the direction of your homeland.

His unsolicited reprimand must have been throwing salt into a wound that still bled. He had overstepped his authority. 

Murky clouds congregated in the once clear sky. 

—

Those were the events that transpired, events that have led to the current stalemate happening in his office. Lilac eyes couldn’t seem to find the courage to connect with yours. Another excuse finding its way to his tongue. 

“Didn’t you want to visit your homeland?”

“Oh?” Your brow quirks up, as your hands find their way to your hips. 

“And then who’d be here to repair the tears in your robe when you inevitably step on them?” Obviously unimpressed by his suggestion. 

“Surely there are other talented tailors here that can handle the task,” he rebukes. 

“Oh? Will they also untangle your hair from the ornamentation of chairs?” You press on.

“I can manage.”

“Then can the Chief Justice also manage all the uniforms for the Melusines? Can he sew every button and ensure they fit correctly?” 

Ah, with your last statement, Neuvillette concedes. A hush fills the room. 

The Melusines are still new to walking amongst humans, not many were willing to tailor specialized uniforms for their short stature. Thus, you took up the mantle. 

Perhaps out of a sense of responsibility, it was you who stirred their curiosity with those sweets of yours. 

It seems responsibilities tethered you to the Court of Fontaine, much like they did to him. After a few breaths, as always, your voice shatters the stalemate. 

“I’m not upset, Neuvi.”

With those words, his lilac eyes finally connect with yours. Finally able to see the soft curls at the corners of your lips.

It indeed has been a while since he last saw such a sight.

This time instead of replying with an excuse, he responds with a gentle hum. 

“Ugh, why are your curtains so dusty? When was the last time you went outside?” It wasn’t long before your attention returned to the state of his office. 

Strolling past his desk, your hands began to fuss with the thick drapes. Pouting at the dust that coated the lush fabrics.

All Neuvillette could do was follow with his gaze, papers long pushed to the side as for the first time in a while, an azure hue was seen peeking through the clouds. 

From his observations, it’s instinctive for humans to avoid pain. However, it’d be hypocritical of him to judge mortals for actions he’s been guilty of. 

“If I knew I had to work this hard now, I would’ve skipped more chores back at the estate,” you chuckle, pulling back the drapes to allow gold to illuminate his office.

To have loved and have been loved in return.

Was this the human rationale behind taming a dog? Having the reality of the future constantly lurking over each happy moment as the hands of time tick forward.

Why do humans dote on pets? Creatures that only live a fraction of a mortal life? 

Are happy memories a fair exchange for bitter grief, or are they the cure? 

As Neuvillette counts the strands of peeking silver that mingle within your lush locks, he prays he finds the answer soon. 

The clacks of ornate shoes reverberate down once unfamiliar halls, a towering figure lurks past bustling nurses who bow their heads at the sight of the Chief Justice as he passes by.

With a body like his, there is no reason for him to wander among these halls. Or more accurately, there once was no reason. 

The taps of his soles slowed as a familiar door came into view, the only detail which differentiated it from the rest of the hall being the brass numbers displayed. Bringing up a glove-clothed knuckle, delicate taps were placed against the wood.

Almost immediately, a muffled ‘come in’ resounded behind the frame. Granting the Iudex permission to turn the polished knob, allowing him entry as the hinges sang their welcome.

“My, my, if it isn’t Monsieur Neuvillette, to whom do I owe the pleasure?” A grin spreads across your face, crinkling the corners of your eyes. 

Instantly his frame stiffens in the midst of returning the door to its frame. Bringing his free hand up to his face, Neuvillette coughs as to compose himself once more.

“Please, forgo the formalities.” 

Though your eyes might not be as sharp as they once were, the delicate dusting of pink along his pointed ears couldn’t escape their sight. Making your eyes crinkle more.

Feeling entertained enough, you cease your teasing and gesture toward the vacant chair beside your bed.

Obediently, his towering figure strides up to the seat, the wood squeaking under his weight as he settles onto it. 

By now, the dragon has grown accustomed the structure of greetings, beginning with a layer of pleasantries. 

“How have you been fairing?” Lavender eyes scrutinize the sheets and pillows, searching for any unapparent flaws. 

“It’s just a mild case of pneumonia,” you muse aloud. 

Momentarily resting his eyes behind a slow blink, all he could do was sigh at your brazen nonchalantness. Yet with a ghost of a smile on the same lips that sighed.

It was a mild case of pneumonia, a common ailment during the frosty months. For someone as steadfast as you, such an illness might’ve surrendered to your stubbornness. 

It might've surrendered… if your body had remained as it once was.

How unfortunate it all is, that time is so cruel to mortal creatures.

Attentive eyes detailing each crease that settled by your lips, remnants of the many grins and laughs that stretched your face. 

The basking light of a selfish star catches in your hair, lush hues that have faded to brilliant ivory. A shade that you often compare to his while jesting, ‘We match now’.

However, Neuvillette begs to differ, the sunlight is much more luminous in your tresses.

Trailing his sights back to your gaze. Deep lines formed by countless dynamic expressions drew attention to the glimmer forever present in your irises. Like paths on a map that led lilac eyes to yours. 

“How are you finding your stay?” At times, Neuvillette found himself wondering how the azure tides appeared from your view. 

“Mm, quite uneventful, eating, staring out a window, sleeping.” 

He hums in response, contemplating if he should inquire you about such subjects. As you ramble, perhaps the dragon could grasp onto an inkling of understanding. 

“Well, at least I can say that my stay has been anything but lonely.” Your eyes motioning toward a corner. 

The bland, sterile wall overshadowed by a mass comprised of trinkets ranging from local flowers to any object whose surface catches light.

The heap grows day by day as each Melusine continues to bring their earnest gratitude to the human who sew each stitch of their coats. A sight that could stir even the most placid lake.

“They’re such sweethearts.” Each one of your words coated with endearment. 

Once more, all the dragon could respond with was a mellow hum. Slow breaths fill the complacent silence between two species, one blessed by time and one shunned by it.

Neuvillette has grown accustomed to the structure of conversations but, alas, he still has no talent for small talk.

In the absence of dialogue, the layer of short pleasantries long dissolving, Neuvillette is left with nothing but his inquiries. It was all he had left, and so it was all he could offer. 

“Are there any regrets you hold?” 

“Oh oh? Getting sentimental so out of the blue, Neuvi?” A familiar quirk graces your brow. 

“It’s nothing of the sort, just a musing that drifted in my mind during a stroll, I wish to know your thoughts on the matter.” 

“Mmm… I don’t feel that I have any regrets, living an honest life and having the fortune to never have stepped foot in the Fortress of Meropide.” 

“Is that really all? You never did get to travel like you dreamed of back at the estate.” 

“Haha, trying to stump me with that, Neuvi?” you chuckle. 

Relaxing more into the pillows which propped up your weary frame, you trail your sights toward the window. 

“Didn’t I tell you already? I’ll have plenty of time to travel once I become a cloud, I can go everywhere the sky can reach.” Smile softening on your lips. 

Neuvillette’s folded hands grasp one another tighter on his lap, his own lips pressing each other into a thin line.

The conversation was teetering closer and closer to the unspoken reality looming like a shadow in the room. 

He wasn’t sure when it started, maybe when the first silver strands appeared in your hair or when you discovered his skin won’t wrinkle along with you.

He wasn’t sure when your adamant belief of becoming a cloud once the shadow came to claim you started. 

Neuvillette wonders if this daydream was the product of those fables you browsed when you laid upon a plush rug.

Or was it your personally crafted fable to explain the incomprehensible to a creature who couldn’t fully grasp it?

A creature whose skin didn’t wrinkle, whose bones didn’t grow brittle. A creature seemingly untouched by time.

Fairytales do serve this purpose for children, magical fantasies to make uncomfortable realities palatable to naive minds. 

“...vi?... Ne…?... Neuvi.” 

A hand marred with age takes hold of one glove-clad hand, and a pleasant heat radiates through the leather. Coaxing Neuvillette’s attention back from its escapade. 

“My apologies, I was lost in thought for a moment.” He gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. 

But the frown weighing down on your lips didn’t disappear, much like how retreating into musings couldn’t wash away any shadows.

Your chest moves with a deep inhale. 

“Maybe I do have one regret,” you began. 

Readjusting your ailing fingers in his hold so that he could hold them with equal endearment, his ears concentrate on your voice. 

“Actually, I have many,” you sigh. 

Before he could formulate a response, you continued. 

“I wish I could have shoulder the burdens you carry. I wish you would’ve shared them with me. And I wish I could even understand them, then maybe I could have understood you more.” Turning to face him, your disheartened eyes center on his frame. 

A child born from a maid, a maid who traveled to Fontaine in hopes of a better future for her child. That was your origin, an outsider with neither fame nor fortune.

Thus, even as you followed him from a secluded estate to the grand Palais Mermonia, you could never follow him in status nor influence. 

As unrest grew, as injustices mounted, and as tragedies took away friends.

All you could do was repair tears, sew buttons, and pour him a crisp glass of spring water as you waited for the storm to wash despair away.  

That was how you saw it. But Neuvillette rebukes that notion. 

The dignity of a newly established Chief Justice, who kept stepping on his overly ornate robes, was carefully maintained by you.

The Melusine’s uniforms, which solidified their presence in the human world, were crafted by you.

The patient hand that always offered silent comfort in the suffocating courts was yours. 

Standing by his side, even as your bones grew to ache, to ensure the storm would pass and the sun emerge once more. 

“You’ve done more than enough.” He states the truth, grasping your hand just a bit tighter. 

“Are you sure?” Those airy chuckles of yours made their appearance again. 

“I never even learned your real name,” you interject.

A knife, red hot and fresh from the forge, would have hurt less than the guilt which tore through him at that moment.

The Chief Justice, the symbol of honesty and conviction, is unable to tell the simplest truth.

What shall he do now?

The power of a name is often underestimated, the exchanging of names signifying the forging of a bond. One that would forever tether him to you and you to him.

Oh, what shall he do now? 

Before his hesitant lips could take action, they were halted by a squeeze from your ailing grasp. Firm and warm, like a light that guides him up from the bottom of a turbulent ocean. 

“You don’t have to tell me now, Neuvi, tell me when I come back from my trip.” Those gentle eyes of yours smile at him.

Reeling his hand in closer to you with your own, until the softness of your lips was felt along covered knuckles.

A common practice in Fontaine, one Neuvillette had witnessed time and time again as he passed the lovers who congregated by the Fountain of Leucine. Actions that dedicated promises to one another. 

“I swear, once I’ve traveled enough, once I grow bored of foreign scenery, I’ll fall back down like rain to your side.” You whisper into the kiss.

It was his turn now, and he shall honor this ritual. Tenderly bringing in your hand to him, Neuvillette places his oath.

“Then I swear, when you return, I’ll tell you my name.” He whispers in the kiss.

The sterile rooms echo your airy chuckles as he keeps your hand close to himself for just a bit longer. 

“Mmm… Where I should go first? Maybe I’ll just amble about,” you ponder aloud. 

Gracing him with a smile which stretched your face and brought that familiar glimmer into your eyes.

“I wish you well on your travels.” Neuvillette presses another kiss into your knuckles. 

–

Spring was always the rainy season for Fontaine, with gentle temperate showers to welcome the budding blooms back from their Winter sleep.

However, this year the torrential downpour was anything but gentle. 

Planned trips canceled for the season, clothes remaining damp in baskets, and streets empty of their vigor. Even the Melusines couldn’t bring a skip to their steps.

It was as if time itself was slowed by the burdensome downpour. 

The cawing of crows as their wings beat against the dreary winds adds to the lonely hymn sung by the raindrops.

At once the cadence of the rain increased, the downpour growing heavier, and the violent pattering grew deafening. As if the sky was now belting out their sorrowful ballad. 

The rain could try. The skies can cry all they would like. But time, a cruel and unforgiving mistress, won’t ever stop. 

To have loved and been loved, was it truly enough? 

In Neuvillete’s eyes, he was the tide and you were the shore. The ebb and flow of water as the tide and shore met, time and time again. 

Each crash into the shore stirred up something perplexing and disorderly within the tide, irritating like the sand that mixed into the pristine waves.

So the tide tried to retreat into the lonesome ocean. 

Each time, the shore followed through grains of sand which the tide couldn’t ever seem to purge himself of. 

Each time, the shore beckoned the tide to return to the sandy beaches of humanity filled with perplexities and disorder. 

And each time, the tide surrendered to the call of the shore, lured in by its warmth. 

But now, the shore has eroded away.

Where does the tide go now?

Drifting now in the vastness of a lonesome ocean, carrying nothing but grains of sand. What shall the tide do now?

Neuvillette still has a lot to learn, for he couldn’t answer this riddle conjured by his own mind. 

Unable to stop himself, the lone dragon stares off into the rain.

Eyes honing in the direction of a peaceful hill, one where a mother and child were laid to rest side by side overlooking a homeland they never got to visit.

Maybe that was the first destination of your journey. 

During these past short years spent in this land, the young successor of the dragons has gained traitorous knowledge. One that undermines his preconceived purpose. 

Neuvillette feels he’s grasped onto the faintest inkling of why humans, as fickle, perplexing, and fleeting as they are, were still the most beloved creatures of the gods. 

Perhaps, he even understands now why those usurpers were willing to uproot the earth just for those beloved creatures. 

The wet season transitions into the dry season, then the dry season will transition into another wet season. Again and again, on and on as the hands of a clock ticks forward.

Each new tick signifies another step forward in the march of time.

Each step brings change and each step pulls the present away from the past. 

The rainy season of Spring was no longer as troublesome as it once was, as there was now a machine on the market that could dry clothes without the help of a bright star.

Melusines skip along down the paved paths of the Court of Fontaine as humans turn to greet them with endearing smiles.

New cafes line bustling streets as Clockwork Mekas make their evening patrols. 

A great many changes have come to Fontaine, Neuvillette witnessed them all from his office at the Palais Mermonia.

A great many changes, yet some things are bound to stay the same. For example, the Chief Justice’s fondness for strolls along vacant riverbanks. 

The gentle patters of raindrops lull the chaotic sympathy of trials, paperwork, and duties to a standstill. Reaching a hand out in front of him, Neuvillette catches a few drops in the palm of his gloved hand.

Lilac eyes examine the diminutive puddle in his hand before ultimately releasing the water back to the earth. 

He supposes he’s been feeling a bit nostalgic as of late, like a child recalling a story which once soothed them to a peaceful slumber. How childish it was for him to believe he could somehow catch a certain raindrop in his hands.

Turning up toward the drab sky, he searches through the endless and identical droplets that fall down and leave trails along his face. 

No, not yet. Perhaps they have yet to see all that the sky has to offer. 

Neuvillette returns his focus to the path in front of him. The rhythmic clacks of his shoes match with the soft drumming of the rain, and in the midst of this harmony a voice sings out:

“Hydro dragon… uh… Hydro dragon, don’t cry.”

Halting his stride. Judging by the unfamiliarity of their tongue pronouncing the lullaby, Neuvillette deduces they must be a visitor to Fontaine.

Ah that local legend, just how far has it spread? Nevertheless, an unfortunate traveler who’s unfamiliar with Fontaine’s seasons is now caught in this rain. 

It would only be polite to offer them some assistance as the Iudex of this nation. Thus, he turns in the direction of the call.

His suspicions were confirmed once his gaze landed on a distressed frame, their face obscured by the jacket they held over their head in a makeshift umbrella. 

It only took a few steps for the towering man to make it to their side.

“There is a tree you can take shelter under just ahead,” he advises the lost traveler.  

Now aware of his presence in front of them, they lifted the jacket from their line of sight to peer up at him. Revealing the details of their face to lilac eyes for the first time.

That was all it took for the symphony of rain to come to an end.

Soft drumming decrescendos into tranquility. It seems as if there will be an earlier welcome of flowers.  

“Oh?” You gaze up at the azure hue now peeking out from receding gray, astonishment reflected in the glimmer of your eyes. 

You’ve only heard of a local Fontainian legend from a guide pamphlet offered to tourists as you awaited the Aquabus.

When the rain suddenly began to pour as you ambled about a riverside, in a moment of desperation as you scrambled for shelter under a thin jacket you uttered the phrase.

You weren’t sure if the hydro dragon could understand your botched pronunciation, but it looks like he did.  

 Turning back to face the kind stranger, you wanted to convey your amazement to him. But the words fade just off the tip of your tongue when you peek back at the towering man.

Your eyebrows scrunch together as dumbstruck eyes widen at the sight of the drenched man.

“Mister?… Are you alright?” You scan over him, turning your attention away to sift through your pockets. 

How bewildering it must be for you to witness a well-dressed and noble figure drenched to the bone. However, Neuvillette made no attempt to stop the rivulets rolling down his cheeks, a parting gift from the Spring showers. 

He wonders as his gaze never left your frame, were tears perhaps this warm too?

“Here.” Your concern-ridden hand offers up a neatly folded handkerchief to the drenched man. 

As your eyes connect with his, a strange sensation tickled the back of your mind. As if it was trying to recall where you’ve seen the familiar lavender hue.

Maybe they matched the shade of a flower field you stumbled upon during your travels, or maybe that lilac luster was revealed to you in a dream.

A strange familiarity you couldn’t name. 

“Thank you very much.” He accepts the simple piece of cloth with tenderness rivaling that of conservators handing the renowned paintings of old masters. 

The clouds were long gone by now, perhaps they felt that their purpose had long been fulfilled. The golden rays of a lone star shone with all their brilliance, finally free from behind their blanket of drap clouds. 

It was only now that Neuvillette found out. The rain he had been yearning for all these years did in fact see all that the sky had to offer.

They had grown bored of drifting over vast plains, missing the picturesque countryside of Fontaine. Or perhaps their curiosity grew too great, wishing to finally hear a truth that was kept from them.

So much so, they quietly fell down from the sky, to return to his side again. 

Much like the hands in a clock, the cycle of water and earth follows a similar circular path. 

The rain had eroded away stubborn earth with its diligent drumming over the years.

Bit by bit and piece by piece until stone fractures into bits of sand. Over and over until a sandy beach was formed by the side of a patient sea.

Then the tide will reunite with its long-awaited shore, to return the sand and promise it cradled within its waves for so long. 

~Fin

©️vivalabunbun DON’T PLAGIARIZE, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS. 

[rufflebuttercup]

drunk words are sober thoughts | spencer reid

summary: spencer’s been, uncharacteristically, ignoring you all day, and you’re determined to find out why. it can't be anything bad, right?

a/n: if i had a nickel for every time my reader got drunk and confessed their feelings for spencer, i’d have two nickels. which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird that it happened twice.

enjoy the fic, and have a fantastic day! <3 requests are open!

note(s): gn!reader & no pronouns used, mention of alcohol, reader gets quite drunk, drunk confessions and kisses

word count: 3,422

Heavy sheets of rain pelted down onto your head as you weaved with purpose through the busy streets. Occasionally, a car would drive through the roadside puddles, creating a cosmic-sized splash that effectively soaked you to the bone. You hadn’t brought a coat. You didn’t think you were going to need one. The sun had still been shining when you’d left your apartment in Quantico. 

After a long, strenuous day at work, you had planned to go home, collapse onto your couch, and work your way through a tub of cookie dough ice cream that you knew was being neglected in the back of your freezer. Instead, you’d hopped onto a train and you’d taken the hour-long journey to Washington DC. 

Spencer had been completely ignoring you, and Spencer was never the type to completely ignore you. Or anyone, for that matter. Spencer was the type to get sassy and downright passive aggressive whenever he was mad at someone - you’d witnessed that first-hand early on in your friendship, and it had practically scarred you for life. This was different, though, and the silence seemed to be much more painful. You’d tried to speak to him multiple times throughout the day, but he’d managed to evade you, and he’d barely even made eye contact with you for more than a millisecond. You didn’t think you’d done anything wrong, but your overthinking, people-pleasing tendencies were starting to rear their ugly head. 

Another car splashed through the puddles at such a breakneck speed that you ended up getting completely soaked. You immediately began to grumble, and your shoes made a squeaky sound as you continued trudging down the street, “Spencer, I am going to kill you.”

Eventually, you found yourself outside of Spencer’s apartment. You crossed your eyes as you watched a water droplet drip from the tip of your nose. You were cold, and damp, and you were very much aware that you were leaving puddles on the carpet. You shuffled in place in the hopes that you didn’t soak one particular spot too much. You knocked on the door, and then you waited, and then you waited some more. You were beginning to wonder if he was even home at all.

Eventually, there was a shuffling noise on the other side of the door, and then you heard a lock being slid out of place. The door cracked open, and Spencer’s head popped out. His eyes widened slightly as he saw you, “Hi.”

“Hi,” you shook your head free of water droplets, making yourself look like a wet dog, “Can I come in?”

Spencer hesitated, and his eyes flickered up and down your figure. For a moment, you were convinced that he was about to slam the door in your face, “Yeah. Come in,” he spoke after a pause, and he shuffled aside, “You must be freezing.”

You nodded at him in gratitude, and you slid past him, “Yeah,” you laughed a little, your teeth chattering. Spencer’s apartment was warm and cozy with the heating system on full blast, a stark contrast to the miserable conditions outside, “You could say that.”

“Hang on. Let me just…” Spencer scampered into a room on the other side of his apartment that you assumed was his bedroom. You could hear him clattering around before he returned a moment later with one of his thread-worn sweaters, “Here.”

You took the sweater from him, and you slipped it over your head. It was big on you. Far too big, actually. But it was warm. That was all you cared about, “Thanks, Spence.”

A silence fell over the two of you. An uncomfortable one. Spencer’s eyes darted around the apartment, making sure to focus on anything except for you, “So…”

You immediately cut him off, “I’ve done something wrong, haven’t I?”

“What?” Spencer started a little at your question, “Of course, you haven’t. Why would you…”

A sudden wave of self-consciousness washed over you, and you fiddled with the hem of the sweater, “You know you can always tell me if I’ve done something wrong,” you began to ramble. It was a trademark you had whenever you were slightly nervous, “I don’t mind. I won’t get mad, or offended, or…”

“Hey. Stop,” it was Spencer’s turn to cut you off, “Why would you think you’ve done anything wrong?”

You sighed, and you ran a hand through your wet hair, “Spence, you’ve been ignoring me all day.”

ꨄ︎

You triumphantly clutched the two movie tickets in your balled up fist, “I did it!”

Derek’s eyes followed the little scraps of paper as you waved them up and down, “Great. What did you do?”

“I got the tickets! I waited all morning for these!” you excitedly shoved them into Derek’s face, almost punching him straight in the nose, “Look!”

“Yeah, I know what movie tickets are,” he swatted your arm away, “What are they for?”

“Mother!” your voice almost came out as an excited squeal, and it was only after Derek raised an eyebrow at you that you realized how strange your words sounded without context, “It’s a South Korean movie. They’re doing a screening of it later this week at a film festival in New York, and they haven’t translated it yet, so it’s still entirely in the original language.”

“I didn’t know you knew Korean.”

“I don’t. At least, not entirely,” you shrugged, “I’m not exactly conversational, but I can understand bits and pieces. I was talking to Spencer about it the other day, and we both decided we’d go together, and…” you paused, eyes narrowing when you saw the smirk Derek was hiding behind his coffee cup, “What?”

“Nothing.”

“No. What?”

Derek took a deliberately slow sip of his coffee, “It’s not my place.”

“That’s quite literally never stopped you before,” you rolled your eyes, “What’s wrong? Do you think it’s a bad idea? I mean, I thought he’d enjoy it.”

Derek hummed in amused agreement, “There’s something he’d enjoy a lot more.”

“Derek. Just…” you were about to respond, but you were interrupted by the chiming of the elevator. Your eyes lit up as Spencer stepped out, “Oh! Spence!” you had to jog to catch up with his quick pace, “Look. I managed to get us those tickets. We can go together!”

“I don’t think I can.”

Spencer’s answer made you falter, and the smile that had been plastered onto your face dropped, “But, I thought you were looking forward to seeing it. I am. It’s not until next week, so…”

“No. It’s fine. You go and see it, though. You’ll enjoy it a lot more on your own, I’m sure.”

You came to a standstill at that, and your mouth hung open as Spencer took a seat at his desk and proceeded to busy himself in a case file that he already had waiting, “What was that?”

Derek sidled up to you, “What was what?”

“That,” you waved your hand in Spencer’s direction, “He brushed me off? I didn’t even do anything.”

“Oh, you definitely did,” Derek took another one of those suspicious sips of his coffee, “Quite a lot, actually.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “Derek,” you warned him, “You sip that coffee like that one more time and it’s going straight out of the window.”

“Hey! This was expensive.”

ꨄ︎

Spencer’s neck began to turn a shade of pink, and the blush seemed to spread all the way up to the tips of his ears, “I haven’t been ignoring you.”

“Don’t deny it Spencer. Please. That makes it worse,” you said, “All day, you’ve been avoiding me. I’ve barely managed to speak two words to you without you escaping into the next room.”

Spencer shuffled a little on the spot, avoiding your eyes, “I guess I didn’t realize.”

“Yeah, I didn’t think you did,” with a sigh, you dramatically flopped onto his couch, “I can’t even believe I’m saying this, but I’d rather you get all passive aggressive with me like you usually do when you’re mad at someone. At least then I’d know that I’d done something wrong.”

“You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“I’ve obviously done something,” you shot back at him, “You never ignore anyone. Least of all, me. It’s like you suddenly hate me.”

“Hate you? I could never…” Spencer trailed off, and he sat down on the couch beside you. There was an undeniable gap between the two of you that you hated, “You really don’t know what you did, do you?”

“If I did, do you think I’d be here?”

Spencer sighed, “The other night, when we all went out after work,” he started, his tone almost hesitant, “What do you remember?” 

“We went to O'Keeffe's, and Prentiss got us involved in that drinking game that I’m sure she was making up on the spot, and…” you froze, “Oh. Oh no,” you groaned, “Please don’t tell me I did my Backstreet Boys karaoke set.”

The corners of Spencer’s lips twitched into a smirk at that, “It was quite good, actually,” he bit back a laugh, “Some interesting choreography, too.”

You groaned again, and you sank into the couch cushions as you buried your face in your hands, “This is the worst day of my life.”

“That’s it? You don’t remember anything else?”

“No,” you shook your head, peeking at him through your fingers, “What else did I do? Drop some NSYNC into the mix, or something?” your brow furrowed at Spencer’s hesitation, “Spence…”

“You kissed me.”

“What?!”

ꨄ︎

Spencer and Derek were standing out on the busy street, occasionally glancing at the door to O'Keeffe's. The music from inside was still blaring, even though it was 2.am. Most of the team had gone home for the night, leaving only the select few stragglers behind. 

The door to the bar slammed open, and Spencer and Derek immediately looked in the general direction. Derek snorted out a laugh, and Spencer chuckled, “Do you think they’re going to be alright?”

Meanwhile, at the door, you and Penelope were stumbling out onto the street. You had your arms thrown around each other, and it was clear that the two of you were struggling to stay standing. You were both the lightweights of the team, “I love you so much, Pen.”

“I love you, too, my sweet angel,” Penelope let go of you momentarily so she could grab your shoulders and shake you, “You are one of my bestest friends in the whole entire world.”

It was at that moment - the moment where Penelope’s voice got a little too high-pitched and squeaky - that Derek stepped in, “Alright. Let’s pack it up,” he slid in between the two of you, “I think we best get you two home,” it wasn’t a question.

“And you,” Penelope whirled on Derek, prodding him in the chest with her index finger, “You are just the most magnificent person I’ve ever seen,” she cupped his cheeks, squishing them together, “Look at you. You… You magnificent Green god of a man.”

“Mr. Magnificent,” you followed up with a giggle, puffing out your chest and putting on your best impression of Derek, “Look out. Here comes Mr. Magnificent. Watch your doors.”

“Okay. Alright. As much as I’m loving this conversation we’re having,” he took hold of Penelope’s shoulders and firmly began steering her down the street, “You need to go home.”

“Speak soon, my love,” you blew a kiss in the general direction that Derek and Penelope had gone off in, and then you turned to Spencer, “Let’s go!” you dramatically pointed in the vague direction of your apartment and strode off.

“Woah! Hey!” Spencer ran to catch up with you, “You’re not going home on your own.”

“Obviously,” you rolled your eyes, and you grabbed Spencer’s wrist, “You’re coming with me, you silly genius.”

Spencer let out a yelp as you dragged him down the street. He had to apologize profusely to a couple that you almost rammed into, “Slow down,” he called out, “Do you even know where you’re going?”

You paused at that, and you pursed your lips as you tried to string together a coherent thought, “This way!” you bounded off, though Spencer quickly caught your arm.

“You’re going the wrong way.”

“No, I’m not,” you tried to march off once more, but you stopped a few steps away and swiveled on your heel, “Oh.”

Spencer shook his head, an amused smile playing on his lips, “Told you. You’re…”

“We’re going the wrong way!”

“We?!”

For a long moment, you and Spencer wandered through the streets in near silence. The only sound came from you as you hummed a completely out of tune song to yourself. You didn’t live far from O'Keeffe's, and you usually could’ve walked the distance in two minutes. It took you close to ten considering how often you decided to stop and take notice of every little thing that caught your eye. 

At one point, Spencer had to grab your hand and drag you down the street. You didn’t mind that, though. Your skin tingled as he squeezed your hand, and it made you giggle. You always were the type to get too giggly and hyper when you’d had too much to drink.

“Oh, come on,” Spencer stood in front of the elevator in your apartment building, grumbling in frustration at the ‘out of order’ sign that was plastered on the doors, “You have got to be kidding me.”

“It’s broken.”

“I know it’s broken.”

You collapsed onto the stairs with a soft thud. Your eyes were starting to droop from tiredness, “It’s always broken.”

Spencer sighed and turned to you, another one of those amused smiles lighting up his face as he saw you staring at the ceiling - even though you were staring at absolutely nothing, “Are you even capable of using the stairs right now?”

“I will be if you carry me.”

“I’m not carrying you,” Spencer gently tugged your arm, “Come on. What floor is your apartment on?”

“Tenth.”

“Oh, for…” he quickly cut himself off, and he pulled you to your feet as he began guiding you up the stairs almost one step at a time, “Alright. Come on, then. Let’s get you home.”

“I don’t want to,” you whined, tugging on his hand, “No. No. I have a secret.”

If you weren’t being so cute, then Spencer would’ve been exasperated by this point. You clearly needed your bed, and he so desperately wanted his, “What is it?”

“It’s a secret,” you giggled, and you beckoned him closer, “Come here. Let me whisper it.”

“Fine,” Spencer rolled his eyes affectionately, and he took a step closer, “Can you tell me now?”

“No,” you grabbed his jacket, tugging him so close that his face was right against yours, “There. Close enough,” you giggled once more, and you leaned in so close that your lips were almost on his ear, “I want to kiss you.”

Spencer’s reaction was as if someone had burned him with a hot iron. He took a step back, and his expression was one of pure, unadulterated shock, “You… You want to…” it wasn’t often that you saw Spencer at a loss for words, “You want to kiss me?!”

You hummed in response, and you clapped your hands excitedly, “Yeah! Can I kiss you?” you asked, bouncing up and down on the balls of your feet, “Because I really want to kiss you.”

Spencer’s mouth opened and closed as if he were a fish out of water. It made you laugh harder than you already were, “I… I…” Spencer fumbled over his words for a few more seconds, but then he seemed to collect himself. He straightened up, and despite the blush painting his cheeks, his shocked expression morphed into one of delight, “Yeah. Okay. You can kiss me.”

The next noise out of your mouth was a squeal, “Yay!” you barely gave him a chance to prepare himself before you grabbed his collar and pressed your lips to his. You felt fireworks exploding in your mind, but you weren’t entirely sure if they were because of the kiss or the alcohol. Either way, it was quite possibly one of the best moments of your life.

After a few seconds, the kiss broke. Spencer pulled away first, but he seemed reluctant to do so, “I… That was…”

“That was amazing!” you finished his sentence for him, “I want to do it again. Can we do it again? Pretty please?”

Your plea got a genuine laugh out of Spencer. He was half-tempted to kiss you again, but he shook his head, “No. We’re waiting until you’re sober before we do that again,” he took your arm and began helping you up the stairs, “Come on. You need sleep. You’re going to have the worst hangover in the world tomorrow.”

“No fair. I hate hangovers,” you whined. You were interrupted when you tripped on the stairs and almost face planted right into the carpet. It was pure luck Spencer caught you before you did, “Ow. Who put that there?”

ꨄ︎

“Oh my God,” all you could really do was stare at Spencer with your mouth wide open. It was a wonder your face wasn’t burning, “Spence, I…” everything made so much sense - the strange glances, the teasing comments, all of it - “I am so sorry. I…”

“No. No. Don’t be sorry,” Spencer quickly reassured you, and he placed a hand on your shoulder in an attempt to try and ease the nerves that were creeping through your tone. He closed the distance between you, too, which you appreciated. At least he didn’t hate you, “You don’t have to apologise. I… I didn’t mind.”

You thought you’d finally managed to get over the first wave of shock, but then it all hit you once again, “You didn’t?”

From the moment you’d first walked into the BAU on your very first day, you’d fancied Spencer more than you’d ever fancied anyone ever before. You couldn’t explain it. Then, as your working relationship turned into an actual outside-of-work friendship, you decided it was easier to keep quiet about your feelings for him than risk ruining the good relationship that the two of you already had. 

“But… But I was drunk, and…”

Spencer quirked an eyebrow up at that, “Are you saying you didn’t mean it?”

“No. Of course, I meant it,” you corrected him, immediately faltering when you saw that smug smirk on his face, “Shut up,” it was hard to act annoyed when the goofiest grin imaginable was taking over your face, “I didn’t think you’d actually kiss me.”

Spencer let out a soft laugh, “Yeah, well. You were pretty insistent. It’s hard to say no to you,” he rubbed his shoulder, wincing a little, “I’m pretty sure you almost broke my shoulder after you shoved me against the door and demanded I kiss you again.”

At that, you sunk as far as you could into the couch cushions as if you were willing to disappear into them, “I hate you,” you attempted to weakly swat at him.”

“Your drunk self says otherwise,” Spencer laughed, deflecting your swat and catching your hand instead, “To be honest, if you hadn’t lost every single one of your inhibitions that night, I’m pretty sure we’d still be calling this a friendship.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, “Oh? Is that not what this is?”

“I don’t know,” Spencer countered, “Do you usually go around kissing your best friends?”

“Personally, no. But I don’t judge, so…” you trailed off, and your eyes flitted to Spencer’s lips for a brief second, “So, if I clearly didn’t mind, and you didn’t mind, then does that mean I get to kiss you again? Sober, this time, obviously.”

"Yeah. I suppose that’s exactly what this means,” Spencer scooted a little closer, and now the gap between the two of you was non-existent, “It’s good to know that you’ll actually remember this one.”

You giggled at that comment. You sounded as if you were on cloud nine, and you definitely felt it, too, “Yeah. Me too. I can’t believe I don’t even remember our first kiss,” Spencer was about to kiss you, but you placed a hand on his chest to stop him, “You’re definitely not mad at me, though, right?”

Spencer chuckled, and he shook his head, “You’re impossible. Of course, I’m not mad.”

“Good. Just checking,” you took your hand off his chest, instead choosing to place it on his hip, “You can kiss me now.”

[blueblossomrose]

Hey I just send this parents series,I could ask for one with the idea parents interacting with Orpheus

- Anon 🍎

Of course! Here we go 🕊

This post is part of the Twisted Parents Series.

Content: Shrouds being extremely caring and protective grandparents, post-canon, fem!afab!MC, fluffy, broken humor.

Comments and reblogs are very welcome! ♡

To start, it is necessary to understand that Orpheus is they only grandson.

Due to the sad and traumatic events with Ortho, Idia's closed-off personality and the family curse, Mr. and Mrs. Shroud did not have much hope of having grandchildren, even though they wanted them.

So when Idia showed up dating MC, they were to the point of setting off fireworks.

They almost did, but Mr. Shroud convinced Mrs. Shroud to save the fireworks for when they gain a grandchild.

As stated in resume hcs, they absolutely loved MC and couldn't accept even the thought of Idia breaking up with her. No way.

When the wedding came, they were happy, ecstatic, very joyful.

And then, the most anticipated news of the millennium for the Shroud family: MC was pregnant!

Mrs. Shroud immediately shouted: "ORTHO! BRING ON THE FIREWORKS!"

Meanwhile, Idia: ☠️

He already knew what this would probably entail from now on.

Mr. and Mrs. Shroud are very loving and protective grandparents. Especially on Mrs. Shroud's part, as she is more outspoken about it.

But Mr. Shroud isn't far behind either. He doesn't use many words, but his actions say how much he loves his grandson. Orpheus has absolutely everything he wants, whenever he wants it. His grandparents buy him anything, and create things for him.

Again, Orpheus is they only grandson. Everything that happened to Ortho and Idia in the past still affects them, even if they've gotten better at dealing with it over the years. But they make it clear that having Orpheus in the family is no way to replace Ortho or anything like that.

Having Orpheus in the family is they own blessing, a hope. Being part of the Shroud family for many years is considered a curse, for obvious reasons, in a way it really is. But being together there proved that it doesn't have to be like that all the time.

They learned how to better deal with the curse over the years, mainly with Idia's internal research, which brought some temporary solutions that were sufficient.

So when Orpheus was born, the situation was different, more favorable.

They are the kind of grandparents who will always defend their grandchild. Yeah Idia, you want to scold your son? Don't try that while the Shroud grandparents are visiting.

They won't let you scold their baby boy.

Orpheus name was chosen because it starts with "O" like Ortho. It was a tribute.

[Name] held Orpheus in her arms, rocking him gently as Mrs. Shroud finished straightening the little blue onesie she had bought especially for her grandson.

The living room of the home, normally slightly cold to match Idia's behavior, was filled with a warm and almost chaotic energy. Small electronic toys and gifts were scattered across the coffee table, the result of the recent visit.

"Oh, look how adorable he has become!" Mrs. Shroud exclaimed, her face was lit up with a genuine smile as her eyes roamed over the baby’s tiny figure.

“He’s 30% warmer in that onesie!” Ortho announced excitedly, jumping around [Name] and the baby, little sparkles emitting from his digital display, a sign of his joy.

“He looks perfect.” Mr. Shroud commented, his small, somewhat restrained smile reflecting a calmness that contrasted with his wife.

Beside him, Idia let out a dramatic sigh, as if he had already foreseen how this family scene would unfold.

“Oh, but the cap is missing from the set!” Mrs. Shroud suddenly exclaimed, pulling a small blue cap out of her shopping bag as if she had found the final ingredient for a perfect recipe.

She walked over to [Name], carefully reaching out and placing the small cap on top of Orpheus’s head, the baby’s faded blue hair already beginning to shyly poke through.

With the cap in place, Idia finally spoke, his voice slurred but slightly amused. “Heh, he looks like Mega Man.”

Ortho laughed at this. “That’s right!”

“The outfit is adorable, Mrs. Shroud!” [Name] said sincerely, smiling as she watched her son dressed so perfectly.

“Oh, [Name], please!” Mrs. Shroud replied, turning her attention to her with a warm gaze. “It’s been so many years! There’s no need to call me that. You can call me mother!”

As the two talked, Orpheus began to babble softly, chewing on his fingers. His innocent eyes sparkled, and his little nose wrinkled as if he sensed something strange.

Ortho, ever observant, knelt in front of the baby, leaning down excitedly to talk to him. “Orpheus, are you comfortable? Isn’t that the coolest onesie? I bet you’re 100% safe and warm now!”

But before he could say anything else, Orpheus took a deep breath, as if he were about to sneeze. Then…

“ATCH! ” A small, fiery flare exploded from the top of Orpheus’s head, burning the blue cap completely in a matter of seconds. The fabric crumbled into ash, leaving only the baby’s faded blue hair, now transformed into soft flames that danced in the air.

Everyone in the room froze for a moment, staring open-mouthed at the scene.

“Ahhh!” Mrs. Shroud gasped, her hands going to her face, but in awe, not panic. “Oh my God, his hair…! Ohhh my beautiful baby!”

“The temperature rose so quickly! The cap was destroyed!” Ortho said with genuine amazement.

“Ahhh... so young and already showing us his fiery hair…” Mr. Shroud murmured, emotional.

Idia, still standing next to [Name], widened his eyes in shock before exchanging a glance with his wife. [Name], in turn, began to laugh.

“Yeah… I guess we know who he gets it from,” she says, looking at her husband, who sighed deeply, running a hand through his own fiery hair.

Idia leaned over to look at the charred remains of the cap on the floor, frowning. “I guess I better get something to clean this up…”

He took a step toward the door, clearly trying to discreetly leave the commotion. However, before he could escape, a firm hand landed on his shoulder, making him freeze and sweat.

“Where do you think you’re going, Idy?...” Mrs. Shroud’s voice was soft, but filled with irrefutable authority. “Let’s take a picture. Of all of us. Now.”

"Gulp..." Idia swallowed dryly.

“I’ll get the camera,” Mr. Shroud said calmly, rising from his chair. He seemed almost pleased to be part of this special moment.

“[Name], [Name]! Can I hold Orpheus in the picture?” Ortho asked, jumping up and down excitedly.

“Of course, Ortho.” [Name] replied with a smile, carefully handing the baby over to her robotic brother-in-law, who held him with the precision of his mechanical parts and a surprisingly human affection.

Orpheus, in turn, let out a happy sound, the flames on top of his head dimming to a soft glow.

Shrouds. Always a curious experience.

[hamliet]

Jentry Chau Vs Netflix

So, I watched Jentry Chau Vs. The Underworld.

If you like beautiful (and unique) animation, complex storytelling, themes of coming of age and grief, and references to my favorite band (shout out NCT127), this is a story you should definitely check out. I would recommend it highly, even though I'm going to critique later on in this review.

Complex People and Complex Love

Gugu was a very complex character whom you could both hate as someone who was clearly manipulating Jentry in an almost unforgivable way after doing the unforgivable to her family. And yet, the series opening literally had Gugu sacrificing her life for Jentry, so no matter what was revealed, you always had to handle the uncomfortable reality that Gugu really loved Jentry.

And therein the series explored complexities in love and life, an understanding that comes with growing up and brings on its own grief. The people who raise us, our heroes, turn out to have their own lives and worlds too, their own motivations, that are often not exactly altruistic. We are not at the center of their world as much as we, as children, thought we were.

Jentry's wrestling with her relationship with Gugu was complex and interesting. The handling of Gugu's character was consistently the best in the series, and I loved it even if I'm still not sure I like Gugu. That's a good character--someone you're left pondering the legacy of.

Grief

Jentry working through her grief was a major theme of the series--grief for her parents, and grief for Gugu, not just in terms of her actually dying (which does happen), but in terms of her understanding of who Gugu was and who her parents were.

Jentry's grief journey contrasts with Gugu's grief for Iris and of course Cheng's for Xiao Lan. Which is why Jentry reaching out and healing her inner child through saving Xiao Lan was ultimately a beautiful way of handling her arc. She saw a child who was scared and didn't know what was going on, and destructive in that pain, and saved her.

If you look at the series, Gugu was scared and didn't fully understand the consequences of her actions and destroyed Jentry's family as a result. Kit was scared and didn't understand how to be human and was destructive in that pain.J entry too grieves Kit and projects that fear onto the possibility of losing Michael, which leads to a rift in their relationship. And some of that fear is not understanding who they wanted to be. To quote C.S. Lewis after the death of his wife:

No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear. 

Grief and fear intertwine in many ways in Jentry Chau, including through Moonie allowing herself to be possessed by the Mogui to get her husband back. This also then leads to Gugu's second death.

Gugu's farewell at the end had me full-on sobbing. In a sense, Jentry's entire arc throughout the story is a symbolic way of working through her grief for Gugu, settling with her accepting via choosing to focus on Gugu's love for her, and carrying her memory on in a literal form (the necklace). After accepting Gugu loved her, Jentry loses her fear of the underworld and her powers, and her fear of losing the people closest to her as well.

A Soul Is What You Choose

Jentry's ultimate power isn't burning, but it's being able to see people for whom they want to be. Kit and being human. Ed and being scary. Michael and joining the band.

In a world where everyone, demon or human, is trying to be what they think they need to be, trying to please others, Jentry asks them to be who they want to be, to live how they want to live.

The Best Character and the Worst Writing: Kit

Kit is by far the most compelling character. He's continually sympathetic (while Gugu is somewhat not), conflicted, and torn between how desperately he wants to be human and the inhuman acts he believes he has to commit to be one. Plus, he doesn't understand what it means to be human, nor the complexities of human relationships.

The scene where he helps Jentry create a skinsuit is really a metaphorical sex scene--like fairly obviously. It isn't subtle.

It starts in a bedroom (and yes, animators know what they're doing when they choose setting and objects).

Then we have talking about looking under layers.

Then we have some yonic symbols and this.

Like. And he uses a knife (a traditionally phallic symbol), and the next thing we see is cloth falling... with literal the next frame being clothes (ie, clothes coming off).

Sticking a brush (another traditional phallic symbol) in a vat of wet paint (yonic).

Kit: I've never done this before. It's strange. Jentry: I stand by what I said in class. You do have a soul, and you're more human than you know.

Also note the hand clasped position.

It ends with them literally "becoming one" in Kit embodying a Jentry skin to help Jentry uncover the truth--in other words, they help each other be human.

Which is why what happens next really doesn't make storytelling sense, and is actually kinda offensive.

Love Triangle: What Not To Write

The love triangle pretty clearly was supposed to represent Jentry's links to the supernatural (via Kit) and her links to the human world (via Michael). Great potential for a love triangle, a trope I generally hate because it's almost never well done.

This was not well done. What makes it even more frustrating is that it had a ton of potential to be well done via the thematic and symbolic potential.

Having Kit suddenly go aggressive ex who can't take "no" for an answer was lazy writing, nonsensical within the characters they'd set up, and offensive. Offensive, primarily, because you absolutely should never introduce a triggering element like, oh, harassment and controlling men if you don't plan on dealing with it in the story. And they didn't. At all.

The only reason that element was there was to resolve the love triangle in a clear way--oh, Jentry should be with Michael because Kit acted threatening, even though he never had before. That's just bad writing, because if there's a clear choice in a love triangle, you gotta actually write it. Make Michael the more compelling love interest. (More on how they didn't do this later.)

The entire sequence with Kit makes no sense. Jentry tells him he's actually "hundreds of years old," parroting Tumblr-esque anti arguments about Twilight and every other paranormal love story ever. Except, the story had always explicitly framed Kit as a child being abused by Cheng and "parented" by puppets. His journey to understand who he was, that he mattered, that he could be a human too, was clearly a coming-of-age story.

You don't tend to end coming-of-age stories with death, but they did, pretty much because after the threatening scene there was no coming back.

Plus, Jentry's treatment of Kit actually was pretty bad. Now, there's never an excuse for a threatening ex, but--Kit was right about her hypocrisy in terms of how she treated demons like Ed and himself, something that Jentry isn't really asked to reckon with.

If they wanted Jentry to end up with Michael, that's fair, but her decision was taken away from her because they just decided to stamp Kit with a lazy and offensive development and then kill him off in a redemptive death that emphasizes everything that can go wrong with that trope.

Michael Deserved Better

I feel like they didn't know entirely what to do with Michael. He started off with a cool arc, torn between his desire to be a band geek and his talent for football. His indecision leading to conflict with Stella and Jentry was also a great flaw, especially given that he also has visions of the future. An indecisive teenager with precognition has a ton of potential.

But, Michael's arc vanishes after the festival. Instead he's just... kinda there. Jentry chooses him because she wants to be a normal, human girl. But this isn't a good reason, because she's not (and arguably, he's not either!). Yet this isn't unpacked--the idea that everyone in this triangle is both human and supernatural, to varying degrees.

One interesting idea I spotted during the scene where Kit (as Jentry) gets asked out by Michael is that--well, it's a romantic-coded scene with two men, even if Kit turns him down for Jentry.

But it also coming on the heels of the metaphorical sex scene kinda seemed to almost hint at a throuple. Plus the scene after Kit's death where Jentry views them as merging, and where Michael expresses that Jentry views them the same. This would have actually been a very interesting turn for the story to take in future seasons, if they get those (especially since Stella x Tokki is apparently a thing?).

Because ultimately:

Netflix: The True Enemy

Honestly, almost all of the writing flaws I've talked about come down to the writers just not having enough time. If they had a guarantee of further seasons, they wouldn't have needed to rush to finish the love triangle. They wouldn't have needed to kill Kit. They wouldn't have needed to abort Michael's arc and conflict with Stella.

And really, Netflix continues to disappoint me in emphasizing just how much they focus on profits and money over art. They prefer fast food over an actual nutritious meal. They give shows like one season to get record ratings and if they don't, they get axed. Of course writers are going to rush to cram their story into a single season, because there's no guarantee of another season. Series aren't given any leeway to explore their interesting elements, or to find their footing. It's bad for art. However, Warner Bros exists so Netflix can't fully win the crown for worst example of capitalistic corporations killing art just yet.

I continue to be disappointed that series with no actual story that the writers want to tell (merely a concept of a plan) get renewed for seven seasons based on the writer's reputations (that they then tank with their terrible non-writing) while interesting stories with beautiful art and animation, complex ideas on grief and growing up, have to scramble to beg for another season.

[runerapier]

With FS 2 finally out I wanted to share some of my thoughts, I think it would be fun to talk about the possible mental state Angeal is in around this time in his life and subsequently how it reflects Sephiroth, as well as the meaning behind Angeal's dream sequence.

Since a lot of the details of Angeal’s backstory are hidden in external material, I’m going to use it as a point of reference. Crisis Core has a lot of content they were not able to include at the time of it’s release, so it will be fun to see if they follow up on these things they wrote about but couldn’t include in game.

We already see from the get go that Angeal is serving as a contrast to Sephiroth’s outlook, demeanor, and manners. Angeal’s energy and passion he has for teamwork, his comrades, and genuine care he has for doing his job all directly contrast Sephiroth’s whatever attitude. Even small acts of chivalry are made to highlight this, showing Angeal going the extra mile to help Alissa across the bridge vs Sephiroth’s refusal to engage with anyone socially. Sephiroth was brought up to function independently, made to be a one man army, no use for friends, families, or allies. Especially with the recent loss of friends, he is going to be distant.

This is extremely important for contrast with Angeal, who has likely recently left home and is missing his family, not to mention he is someone he deeply values his connection to others. There is no set age for when Angeal left home, but it is likely within the last 2~ years. His sword in game is listed as type 90, this is comparable to Zack’s sword in CC which is type 99, the type number likely reflects the year the sword was created or the year of when that model was created. Assuming that it's updated every year, leans towards the fact they've been in SOLDIER since at least that year. Meaning Angeal likely left home at 14~, which is closer to around the age Zack and Cloud left home for SOLDIER anyways.

Angeal is someone very sentimental, he is very defensive of his home and his family. CC showed us he was quite nostalgic about Banora on several occasions. This is another contrast to Sephiroth, who doesn't have a hometown or a family. According to the CC ultimania, Genesis was one of the motivators for Angeal to leave and find a better way of living. The new chapter confirmed Angeal left home because he wanted to help pull his family out of poverty. In CC, Angeal's father was said to fall sick from overwork to pay off debt from the buster sword; however, the ultimania mentions an important detail: his father has always been weak and sickly. It’s partly due to his father being chronically ill/disabled that they aren’t able to make a lot of money. The buster sword isn’t the sole cause of his death but rather an extension of working in a system that likely exploits disabled people. Genesis might have been the push Angeal needed to leave far away from home rather than staying and trying to take care of his sick father.

Which gets us to Angeal’s dream, there is debate on how much of it is real because Sephiroth’s wasn’t real. In my personal opinion, the dream being real is a very important contrast to Sephiroth. We know that whatever Alissa is, she is preying on the desires of them. Especially in the case of her being Jenova, who uses memories of her victims to her advantage. Angeal doesn’t need to make up a scenario of his family loving him or being proud of him, because it’s already a reality, Sephiroth doesn’t have this luxury. Angeal's father pushed himself to the brink just so he could support his son in his endeavor, there is no doubt his family loved and supported him. So, what is Angeal's actual desire then? In CC it is never really specified when Angeal's father died, but in Gillian’s profile in the ultimania, it mentions his father died shortly after Angeal left for SOLDIER, even the dream is hinting towards something bad happening on the horizon. Angeal's dad is probably already dead and it is mirroring Sephiroth wanting to see his mother. Possibly reinforced by the fact he is already refusing to use the buster, while it's not confirmed if he didn’t use it all because of his cheapness, I think his father's death added significant value to the sword, making it irreplaceable. They are two kids who just want to be with their parents again, one's desire being entirely fictional and the other's being in the past. It is another contrast between them with their dreams: Sephiroth's being all he lacks, and Angeal's is all he had, but left behind. Both unattainable but in a different sense.

This dream is likely some of the last stability Angeal had before leaving home, along with possibly being one of the last times he saw his father alive which is probably why he is yearning for it. I think if the dream itself symbolized only wanting stability Angeal wouldn’t mention leaving for SOLDIER, I don’t think he wanted to leave home to provide for his family if given the choice. Instead "Jenova" is preying on something that is tangible. However, there is still a possibility it is exaggerated a bit with Angeal having the money for donations and plenty of food. I don't think this is true either, the dream implies Angeal was already working at this age to support his family, so it’s not entirely out of the question he uses what little he has to give back or that he helped with saving for Gillian's birthday party. In contrast nothing in Sephiroth's dream was real besides the fact he lives in the Shinra building, we know Angeal has loving parents, we know he is a hard worker, we know he left for soldier, and we know he loves his village and his family, more was real than just the setting. Also, I think there's a point that this is a special occasion, they could've opted to save up for her birthday. It really didn’t feel too wild to me that one day in particular they had extra food, especially considering they live in a farm village. When and the exact reason why Angeal stole when he was younger is honestly not clarified at all. He could have been afraid of asking for extra food, it could have been during droughts, or even when his father was too sick to work. It is very common for poor families in remote villages to grow their own crops, we even see people in Gongaga growing their own supply, so these things are not really out of the question. I think if any of these details were fake Angeal would be confused or surprised by having these things like how Sephiroth did to make it clear to us as the viewer, but that didn’t happen. The dream closes with remarking his desire to provide for his family so they live happy and healthy… and we know that didn’t happen, which is the point. I think it's also worth mentioning there are some small discrepancies in the localization. He isn't just giving out expensive equipment to multiple people individually, instead, it's a donation that is meant to be shared by everyone. Angeal is building community with farmers who might also be struggling, and I feel like this is an important detail that's missing.

(small disclaimer: I'm not fluent, I only know basics, but I did my best to break down the sentences to make sure these were accurate)

I think it’s clear Angeal isn’t yearning to be rich (or someone else that’s not even relevant in the current narrative… especially when their focus currently is to compare and contrast him with Sephiroth). If Angeal wanted to be rich or famous why isn't he chatting up the PR guy to hope it gets him more attention to the point of promotion? Instead Angeal cares about doing his job and making sure it’s done right, he even gets angry at Bachman and tells him his priority is the rescue mission. Angeal cares deeply about protecting and caring for the people around him, especially those important to him. The dream is only reinforcing this. They even made his gameplay reflect his narrative by being the one to provoke and tank damage for his team, which shows how he views his role as a leader. I want to preface this with there being nothing wrong if the dream ends up being exaggerated, I think regardless it is a good insight on Angeal's character. He loves his family and friends, he wants to support them and make them happy. It shows how they were a positive influence on his life and how they affected his motivations. I think narratively speaking though, Angeal having something that is at very least somewhat more real is another important contrast with Sephiroth, especially when a point of contention between them is how they grew up in different worlds. I think the turmoil of Angeal’s father being most likely dead is going to carry a lot of weight for this story and is meant to parallel Sephiroth's desires for wanting family, it possibly being how they find common ground. While Angeal did grow up in a loving household, he is going through a lot right now with his father's passing. The focus on the Buster sword is incredibly important since it is going to represent why Angeal fights. To protect and to care for what he couldn’t back home, for what his father wanted for him. A dream of a better future and to not lose sight of his morals.

In my personal opinion, it makes a lot of sense that Genesis might not be joining for this section of the story. It's shining a light on some of two most iconic swords in gaming history, and how Angeal’s outlook related to his struggles is going to shape Sephiroth. Angeal’s character and his trauma shape the foundation of the Buster sword and future wielders, and it shaping the Masamune too will be an extension of that. He is the heart of SOLDIER, and I am excited to see this story continue to reinforce that.