#it’s there are people who will love you endlessly without thought

[national-hockey-gay]

being disabled and having a support system is so important because it turns mundane (and often frustrating) tasks into acts of love.

everytime i clip my nails, i think of the high school teacher who helped me through seizures at least once a week for two years straight. everyday she’d gently take my hands and inspect my nails to make sure i was keeping them short enough that i couldn’t hurt myself while seizing.

it’s easier to be less ashamed of my mobility aids when one of my coworkers spent months building me different canes to use, colored to match my outfits and infused with glow-in-the-dark dye so i’d stop losing my cane in the dark parts of the building.

i eat cheesitz for salt when i’m feeling dizzy and it reminds me of high school, sitting next to my best friend and in the classroom of my favorite teacher who both kept salty snacks in their bags for when i wasn’t feeling good.

being disabled can suck in so many ways, but it’s also brought love into a lot of simple but impactful areas of my life.

[cxffecoupx]

cheol as a boy dad

boy dad! seungcheol fluff, requested warnings: reader has a womb, cheol being down bad for his baby boy word count: 705 author's notes: requested by anon (thank you so much!!) I hope you like it. i never really thought about boy dad cause cheol's definitely a girl dad for me but I loved writing this so much! Lemme know what you think :) check out 'cheol as a girl dad' here.

boy dad! cheol who starts crying in the hospital seeing a junior version of him. his big boba eyes are yours, no doubt, but the little pout that finds home on his baby's lips are unmistakably his — even he can't deny it. his eyes start watering when his baby boy holds his index finger with his whole palm.

boy dad! cheol who litters gentle kisses on your sweaty face, murmuring the sweetest of praises on how you did so well and how your baby is a sweet healthy boy who looks like the best of them both. your tears melt into his as you both happily sob over this moment of joy.

boy dad! cheol who you always find around your baby, smiling and cooing at him, playing with him and his toys and always bringing a wide grin to your baby's face. the child's laughter fills your little home and you can't help but sigh in content.

boy dad! cheol who always traces the baby's features delicately: the eyes that reflect the same shine that yours hold, the lips that pout the same way he does, the little button nose and the cheeks that seungcheol withholds the urge to bite because they're so chubby and so.... biteable (the cuteness aggression is so real right now!!)

boy dad! cheol who loves to dress your child in matching clothes as his. you search for seungcheol as you browse through the women's section, only to find him approaching you with two same shirts in different sizes. everytime you all go out you stand out because you're walking around with two same people, just different fonts.

boy dad! cheol who wraps his hands around your waist and kisses your neck, surprising you as you make dinner. who always takes time to appreciate you about all the struggles you had to deal with during the pregnancy, and how you've made him more happy than any man in this world.

you turn around and start kissing him, but just as things were about to dive deeper, your little trouble-maker stumbles up to you both and starts tugging on your pants. seungcheol grabs the child and tucking him in between you both, gives you and your child a bone-crushing hug that ends up making your son giggle endlessly. cheol gently whispers how he's holding his world in his arms right now, and your cheeks hurt from smiling so hard.

boy dad! cheol who pouts and whines everytime your son ignores him and runs to you. you don't realise how, but your son takes more liking to you, running to you first whenever you return home from somewhere, or whenever he needs something. although seungcheol loves to see it, he lowkey hates how he's just left there, hands outstretched for a hug hanging in the air. he dramatically falls to the floor, kicking his feet and whining which makes your son run from your arms to fall onto his dad's chest, giggling with how cheol tickles him.

boy dad! cheol who gets so excited to take your son to the first day of his school. although having to leave him makes his sad, he's excited for his son's new step in his life and will be all ears to hear him talk all about whatever happened at school. he sneakily gives his son a sweet treat without you knowing (it's their little secret now) as he tells everything he learnt in class that day.

boy dad! cheol who always teaches his son to respect everyone he meets in his life. he hopes that his son learns from watching the way he treats you, his wife, with all the love and respect he could give. he hopes that one day, when his son grows up, he treats his wife the same way seungcheol treats you now.

boy dad! cheol who, even though secretly wished for a baby girl, becomes extremely elated with his precious little baby boy, in whom he sees both you and him. hes feels like the luckiest man on earth — with a wife he loves with every inch of him and a lovely son who he wants to keep happy for the rest of his life. his little, happy family.

[elicathebunny]

FINALLY CLOSING THE GAP BETWEEN YOU AND YOUR HIGHEST SELF IN 2024.

You are going to STOP scrolling endlessly for self-help and advice content and you are going to STOP and apply the knowledge you have endlessly gained. Obtaining help and advice knowledge is useless if it goes through one ear and comes straight out the other. STOP becoming addicted to the idea of scrolling and scrolling for your problems yet you already have the resources to fix them. A fool is a person who cannot decide to take action despite having access to the information needed to do so.

BREAKING FREE FROM THE SCROLLING CYCLE

Learning and Applying is one thing, but Learning and Staying Stationary is literally brain rot. You're addicted to the idea of change and the end result, but you never take the steps towards discipline with a personal structure to get that result. You keep looking for quick fixes and easy hacks, but life is not a quick fix and no hack can elevate your life from 0% to 100% without visiting the rest of the numbers first.

TAKE A BREAK FROM SCROLLING

Take time away from your usual scrolling and learn to be on your own. Learn your own ways of self-care, learn what works for you and understand what you need, because nobody is the same. Following a millionaire's morning routine will not make you a millionaire. This routine has worked for someone to feel and be productive in the morning and was probably curated over the years to suit their current lifestyle. So, seeing other people's successes and comparing their working ways to your life is unrealistic if you are not in a position to implement them. Going straight from 0% (Being unproductive and procrastinating) to 100% (Being incredibly Productive and in tune with self) will not be sustainable for someone who has not built the discipline and the inner foundations required for it. STOP seeing information online and taking it without ALTERING anything to your personal situation.

STOP ASKING HOW TO AND JUST DO

"How to lose weight, How to become more social, How to do this and that"

Most of these things you ALREADY know the answer to. Everybody knows that to lose weight, you need to burn more than you consume. There is literally no other way, no magic and no secret hack, just that simple fact. I guarantee you know that to become more social you just have to be social. Learn to be comfortable in social situations which will require inner work, but it's not a difficult concept. Most of us know what we need to do, yet we still try to find quick fixes or another way that same message is presented to us differently. We act as if we are improving and developing on our "improvement" journey yet we are just finding coping ways to feel like we are moving, yet we are still in the exact same place as before. I know you know what to do, I know you have researched what you should do and ways you can do it. So why are you not doing it? Why are you still not where you want to be? If you are not where you want to be, then what you're currently doing needs to change. You cannot do the exact same thing you've been doing for years and expect a different outcome. You need to curate a routine suited to your needs that is realistic and achievable to adopt.

LEARNING TO MOVE ON YOUR OWN, STOP DEPENDING ON OTHERS TO FUEL YOUR SUCCESS JOURNEY LISTEN TO: NOBODY IS COMING TO SAVE YOU BY JULIENHIMSELF Make yourself your safe space, your foundation. When you see yourself in the mirror you should be able to tell yourself "I love you", you should be so sure in what you do that nobody else can contradict what you believe in yourself, this is the end goal of self-improvement. Many of us have put aside our goals because we "are not ready", "people may judge us" or "I need to be/achieve ___ to.." Now don't get me wrong, I'm on this journey with you. I write on this blog to teach my brain how to think in the higher mindset that I'm creating for myself. I too have thoughts like this which is why in 2024 we are going to break out of our old selves to make room for our new selves together. We have to lose ourselves to find ourselves. If you're mood and self-worth are controlled by other people's opinions, then you will never advance further with yourself and will remain stationary. You have to stop allowing other people to determine whether you are allowed to pursue your desires or if you shouldn't because of fear of rejection. Don't take life too seriously, we are only here for so much time. So what if people make fun of you? In a few years will you look back and be proud and fulfilled of your past or feel regret and disappointment? LISTEN TO: WHY YOU CARE SO MUCH BY JULIANHIMSELF + LISTEN TO: HOW TO DETACH BY VICKITA TRIVEDI

The only way to get to 0%-100% is by doing.

Embody your potential

[abswhore]

Just a friend.

Summary: You both had agreed to see each other as just friends, but your feelings developed into something deeper.

Pairing: college!fwb!abby Anderson x reader

A/N: hello thank you for taking time to read ! , this is my first post I’m really excited so please give me feedback, also like and comment! They is just a test run sort of thing to see how it goes it’ll be maybe 3 parts to this !

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“I’ll be fine here, go!” You assumed Dina and Nora as you stood at the bar, they had dragged you out of your dorm for a night out but you wasn’t quite feeling it tonight.

You watched as your friends made their way through the pool of people, smiling at them as they danced with each other. You sipped on your drink as you watch not bothering to join them.

A voice from beside you caught your attention, prompting you to look over. And There stood Abby Anderson, the university's star soccer player. "You don’t dance?" she asked.

“No, I’m a horrible dancer.” When you turned to her, you noticed she was leaning in closer, allowing you to take in every detail of her face. She was captivating.

"I'm Abby," she said as she introduced herself. You chuckled softly and nodded, replying, "I know.”

"You know me, but I don't think I know you," she remarked, leaving you wishing you hadn't mentioned that you were familiar with her. "Just joking," she added.

“ I hope I didn’t come off as a stalker I think we share friends.” You added “im y/n.”

"I'm not opposed to having a stalker, especially if they look you," she said, her tone playful and soft. You could feel your cheeks burning as you went quiet, letting the loud music fill the space around you.

Abby sensed the sudden quietness and quickly found a way to redirect the conversation. “So these mutual friends with share, who are they?”

You mentioned the names of several people, and she instantly recognized the group when you said the first name, Ellie Williams.

“Why don't you ever come us when we hang out?" she asked, sipping her drink while keeping her gaze fixed on you.

"I'm usually tied up with work or school," you replied.

"That's too bad; I'd love to see you more often," she teased. "How about we study together sometime?"

"What do you think?" she asked, her voice dipping into a flirtatious tone as your eyes locked. You nodded in response.

"That sounds great," you murmured, just loud enough for her to catch over the booming music, your gaze drifting to her lips.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Abby pushed you against the icy metal of the car door, and as your lips moved perfectly in sync with hers, you realized you had left Dina and Nora behind without a word. Your thoughts were a jumbled mess; one moment you were exchanging flirtatious glances with Abby, and the next, she was pulling you out of the club, almost dragging you along.

The drive to Abby's, which should have taken just ten minutes, seemed to stretch on endlessly as you exchanged messy kisses at every red light. When you finally reached her apartment complex, you both rushed to get inside. You pressed kisses along her neck while she clumsily fumbled with her keys, eager to let you into her home.

You moaned, "Where's your room?" as she finally opened the door, nudging you inside and pressing her hips against your back.

"no room, I wanna fuck you right here on this counter." She murmured in your ear while her hands moved around you, quickly unbuttoning your jeans pulling them down from behind as she moved towards the counter lifting you up placing you on top.

Abby whispered, "pretty," as she slid your panties aside. You gasped loudly when she traced her tongue over your clit, then gently pulled it into her mouth. Your back arched off the counter, and you found yourself gripping a handful of her hair.

The sound of your moans echoed throughout the room as you sensed your hips starting to tense, signaling that your climax was near. “Not yet,” Abby said, rising up and pressing her lips against yours in a messy kiss, allowing you to taste yourself.

You spread your legs wider, feeling her fingers at your entrance as you lock eyes with her. Abby thrusts into you, her two fingers stretching you, and you can't help but cry out, your nails digging into her shoulders.

Abby urged you, her breath warm against your lips, "look at me while I fuck you." As she quickened her rhythm, you matched her movements with your own. "Please, don’t stop," you pleaded, your voice filled with urgency and longing.

The moans grew louder as you reached your peak, your back lifted off the counter. Grasping Abby’s arm feeling your walls tighten around her fingers. Not holding back Abby thruster fasted into you as your body shook, your hand flying to cover your mouth as your chest moved up and down heavily.

Abby smirked as she brought her fingers, coated in your juices , up to your lips, gently tapping your jaw to signal you to open your mouth. As you complied, she slid her fingers inside, slowly pulling them while you savored your own taste.

Abby let out a soft moan as you pulled her into a kiss, and you swiftly hopped down from the counter, shifting your attention to the other woman above you, tugging at her pants. "it's your turn," you whispered, biting your lip in anticipation.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

[plutonianeris]

Asteroid Candy (3015) 🍬

“Cause my body's sweet like sugar venom���

🍬💕 CANDY IN THE 1ST HOUSE OR ARIES: Magnetic presence, charming expressions, unique sense of style that people notice instantly, radiant confidence that catches eyes, physically attractive in a way that’s almost effortless, people are drawn to your aura and smile, embodying a “sweetness” that feels genuine, captivating first impressions, a natural knack for pulling others in without trying, people remember your face and energy, playful but with an underlying intensity, a sparkle that keeps others curious.

🍬💕CANDY IN THE 2ND HOUSE OR TAURUS: Luxurious taste, appreciation for beauty in every detail, sensual aura, attracts people who admire stability and grace, a natural allure tied to self-worth and confidence, people think fondly of your refined style or elegance, eye-catching when it comes to possessions or fashion, attracts those who value security and beauty, people admire your taste in everything, from clothes to the way you carry yourself, radiates warmth and groundedness.

🍬💕CANDY IN THE 3RD HOUSE OR GEMINI: Captivating voice, witty expressions, intriguing storytelling, attracts people who admire intelligence and humor, draws attention with clever words and engaging conversation, flirty and playful in communication, people remember the things you say and the way you say them, appealing to those who appreciate sharp minds and quick wit, sparkling conversationalist, charm that shows in every text, people feel seen and entertained around you.

🍬💗CANDY IN THE 4TH HOUSE OR CANCER: Comforting presence, nurturing energy, attracts people who seek warmth and emotional safety, soft and familiar charm that makes people feel at home, endearing aura, people feel an instant connection to you, radiates a “homey” or cozy sweetness, often admired by those who crave emotional connection, people hold fond memories of quiet, personal moments with you, soft-spoken allure, appeal that feels timeless and gentle, makes others feel protected and valued.

🍬💕CANDY IN THE 5TH HOUSE OR LEO: Playful spirit, infectious laughter, radiant charisma, draws people who love fun and romance, eye-catching creativity, shines in social or artistic settings, attracts admirers with a magnetic, youthful energy, people are drawn to your joy and zest for life, naturally flirty, charm that lights up a room, endlessly entertaining and passionate, brings out people’s playful side, unforgettable in spaces of joy and celebration.

🍬💕CANDY IN THE 6TH HOUSE: Reliable charm, understated attractiveness, attracts people who appreciate loyalty and dependability, practical beauty, noticed for your helpfulness and grounded energy, subtle but appealing presence, people think fondly of your thoughtfulness and how you make life smoother, quiet allure that grows over time, draws those who admire routine and stability, often remembered for small acts of kindness, appeal that feels safe and comforting, calm strength in daily life.

🍬💕 CANDY IN THE 7TH HOUSE OR LIBRA: Graceful and harmonious aura, naturally attractive in one-on-one settings, draws people who admire connection and balance, romantic and appealing energy, unforgettable in partnerships, people see you as an ideal friend or partner, eye-catching in social dynamics, attracts those looking for stability and fairness, radiates a sweetness that feels genuine and safe, people are drawn to the way you relate to others, charm that feels reciprocal and balanced.

💕🍬 CANDY IN THE 8TH HOUSE OR SCORPIO: Intense allure, mysterious and magnetic aura, attracts people who seek depth and intimacy, almost hypnotic charm, unforgettable in the way you hold eye contact, sensual but with an edge, people find themselves intrigued and even obsessed, draws people who are fascinated by your layers, deep allure that goes beyond appearances, people sense your power and are both fascinated and intimidated, radiates a dark, alluring sweetness, attraction that feels almost taboo.

🍬💕CANDY IN THE 9TH HOUSE OR SAGITTARIUS: Adventurous and free-spirited vibe, attracts people who admire curiosity and open-mindedness, charming in a way that feels expansive, people are drawn to your optimism and big ideas, remembered fondly for inspiring conversations and insights, magnetic in intellectual and cultural settings, radiant and confident in exploring new perspectives, people feel uplifted and intrigued around you, captivating sense of wonder, charm that’s inviting and full of possibility.

🍬💕 CANDY IN THE 10TH HOUSE OR CAPRICORN:Elegant and poised presence, known for your public charm, attracts those who admire ambition and success, dignified and memorable in professional settings, naturally catches people’s attention in career or social spheres, aura that commands respect, remembered fondly for your achievements and grace, people see you as an ideal leader or role model, charming in a way that feels refined and confident, radiant public persona, draws admiration for your confidence and purpose.

🍬💕CANDY IN THE 11TH HOUSE OR AQUARIUS: Friendly and inclusive, charming in group settings, attracts people who appreciate progressive ideas and community, eye-catching in social circles, naturally stands out in friendships, people think fondly of your kindness and open-mindedness, unique allure that feels forward-thinking, often admired for your individuality, captivating presence in teams and groups, draws those who value acceptance and innovation, brings people together with ease and warmth.

🍬💕CANDY IN THE 12TH HOUSE OR PISCES: Elusive and enchanting, mystical appeal, attracts people who are drawn to spirituality or mystery, memorable for a quiet, introspective allure, people find themselves inexplicably fascinated by you, deep and soulful charm, remembered for moments of compassion or emotional understanding, draws those who see beauty in the hidden and unseen, an aura that feels like a dream, attracts admirers who sense the wisdom beneath the surface, charm that’s magnetic in subtle ways.

[sorryimananti-romantic]

Light

angel!mafia seonghwa x chemist!mafia reader

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

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

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

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

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

Good and evil must coexist in order to survive.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bonus points if you had a little streak of-

“This is insanity, sweetheart.”

That. Insanity. The key ingredient.

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

“Theoretically, it can work-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, you were doomed. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You called me to satisfy your humane curiosity?”

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

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

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

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

“I have a feeling that you do.”

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

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

This was the end. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What if the angel inside him kills me?”

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

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

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

“Seonghwa? Is that you?”

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

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

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

“Where am I?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Why did you call me?”

“I was trying to wake you up-”

“No, why did you call me?” 

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

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

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

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

“Who are you?” You dared to ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“For what?”

“Medicinal purposes,” you smoothly lied.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do we need to do another… ritual?”

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

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

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

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

~

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

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

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

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

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

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

“As an angel… you do not eat, right?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is he really alive in there?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sleep is for the humans-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This is a nice house.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can handle it-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t say another word.”

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

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

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

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

The angel must miss the light of his world.

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

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

The angel was back.

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

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

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

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

“What do I call you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What does that mean?” The angel frowned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just like that? You frowned momentarily.

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

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

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

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

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

“I have no choice but to cooperate.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was your fault.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh.

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

All because he was touch-starved?

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

This was not Seonghwa. This was not the man you had spent all your life with. He had never looked at anyone this way.

“Hwa…” you whispered and the angel frowned in confusion. You squeezed his hand.

“I’ll call you Hwa.”

The fire behind those eyes, the flame in those pupils and the warmth of his touch. Seonghwa’s anger. ‘Hwa’. He held your hand between both of his as if it was a holy relic and planted a soft kiss on your knuckles, shutting his eyes and relishing the feel of his lips against your skin. The lips as soft as the petals of a flower. Hwa- that’s what the name meant.

“Thank you for giving me a name.”

You did not need to check your own pulse to realise that your heart was racing as much as his heart- perhaps, in a twisted synchrony.

The meeting with Assemblyman Hwang had gone smoothly without any disruptions with Seonghwa signing a deal that would expand his drug business while giving him protection from the law. However, your interaction with the angel at the lab had left a bitter aftertaste on Seonghwa’s tongue. While he never talked about that interaction or mentioned your new name for the angel, you could tell that he was conflicted about your behaviour with his ‘alter ego’, as you had termed it. 

And how could he not be confused? ‘Hwa’ was a foreigner in his body, doing whatever he pleased. The angel was opening up to human experiences more with each passing day and trying different things that Seonghwa himself would never do. The angel seemed to have a fondness for water bodies and mostly, when he took over, he would find the pool and either sit with his legs submerged or just float in the water while staring at the ceiling, as if he could see the stars or heavens, or whatever the angel saw in the sky in his realm.

Seonghwa would be lying if he said that having an angel inside him wasn’t… enlightening, to say the least. While he could not look into the angel’s memories like the angel could, he was intrigued by everything the angel had to share. It made him question his beliefs, but it also strengthened his ambitions. 

As for you… it had only been a few days yet the little things were starting to get to Seonghwa. You spoke to the angel so gently and carelessly. You indulged in whatever the angel had to say or did. You entertained him and satiated his curiosity. You let him look at you or touch you however he wanted.

Were you doing it because you wanted something out of the angel? Did you think you could win his heart or convince him to create the medicinal drug for you? Or were you doing this out of fear? Fear for your life, for Seonghwa’s life? Or… was the sadistic side of you enjoying Seonghwa’s misery?

He would not be getting answers to that any time soon, and he would not dare ask you for a multitude of reasons- the first and foremost being that he did not want to sound like he cared. Whatever you did with the angel should not be affecting him as long as you remained within your limits and didn’t cross some invisible boundaries, he told himself and hoped you were aware of that too.

He was not going to lie and say it didn’t sting a little that you barely looked at him anymore when he was Seonghwa. He had to do stupid things to get your attention now, such as-

“If you poke me one more time, god help me Seonghwa, I will break your fingers.”

There you were. 

You did have phases like these, where Seonghwa would wonder if you were growing distant from him or had found something- or someone- better than him. Seonghwa was a manipulative bastard and he always made sure that you were within his sight. He never allowed you to look too far, and whoever looked your way? Well… they would be subject to an unfortunate fate soon after. 

You were his. His little doctor, his only friend, his family if he ever had one, his everything, yet… nothing. Perhaps, the last part was a lie, the angel had suggested in one of his whispers. Perhaps, the angel was right. But admitting it would mean that he had a weakness, and Park Seonghwa did not have any weaknesses. He had made that mistake once and lost a dear brother, the reminder of which was inked on his neck so he would never forget. 

So why did this little phase feel different, almost threatening to him?

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” You asked, but when he raised a brow in amusement, you shut up.

You had brought this upon yourself, bounding him with yourself to keep him ‘under surveillance’. He definitely did not have anything better to do at home in the late hours of night. He had wrapped up his work in the evening and accompanied you to the lab for the daily check-ups and for the past few hours, he had been rolling around on his bed. There was nothing to plan, nothing to scheme for once. He just watched you study and make notes on your devices and before you knew it, he had joined you on the couch, poking at your sides once in a while, making you swat at him in dismissal as if he were a mere fly.

Perhaps, all his talk about being ‘the boss’ had not worked very well, after all. He should have never let you get so close- or gotten so close- because you sure had a way of acting like the one in charge sometimes. The small, almost non-existent emotional part in his brain told him that you certainly helped with his loneliness and he had to agree. You were a crutch now. 

“You know I can’t sleep well with all this incessant sound of your typing- why do you type so loudly on a screen?”

“The sounds help me focus,” you told him. “Let Hwa take over. He’ll sleep for the both of you.”

Seonghwa narrowed his eyes. “You want me gone that bad?”

“Aw, is the mafia boss hurt?” You mocked, going back to highlighting an important line in the research paper- perhaps, the tenth paper of the night. You were scrounging through them for any information on working with a chemical bond as unique and complex as the angel’s essence. 

When Seonghwa didn’t answer or threaten to kill you, which was the likelier response, you looked at him to find him with a sombre expression. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he shook his head.

“Something is,” you shifted your attention to him. “Feeling alright?”

“Yeah, I’m just… confused,” he admitted. “Having someone live inside you does that to you, I suppose.”

You shrugged, watching him carefully. “If you have a problem, you can ask me. You know that, right? Forget about the ranks for once, Seonghwa. You know you can trust me.”

“I know,” he nodded assuringly. “I just don’t like this. That’s all there is to it.”

You pouted. Nothing you could do about that. 

Seonghwa had a multitude of questions to ask you about the angel but he decided to hold them for now. Instead, he locked your devices and took your hands, steering you to the bed. You laughed- your old Seonghwa was back. He tucked you in the sheets, just like he had done a thousand times now when you were little and would fall asleep in the middle of studying. Dimming the lights until there was only one lamp at the front of the room, its white light creating a soft halo effect in the room, he got on the other side and silence took over. The sounds of your unsynchronised breaths started to fill the room. 

You turned your neck to find him wide awake, staring at the ceiling. You felt a pang of longing inside you- you wished you could hold him and tell him that it would soon be over, that you were sorry, that you wished you could make it better and you did not like seeing him acting so unlike himself-

“Shut up, you’re too loud,” he said and you snickered. You shifted until you were facing him though he didn’t move.

“What did you hear?”

“You’re sorry. You don’t like when I act strange, though you do enjoy it,” he spared you a glance and you grinned.

“That’s only half of it, though.”

“Would I want to hear the other half?” He asked.

“Well… some things are better left unsaid for a reason, eh?”

Seonghwa shifted to mirror your position, now facing each other. It was a good thing that there was still a respectable distance between you two. Sleeping like this had never been a problem- you didn’t have the luxury of sleeping in separate spaces for most part of your childhood, and once you did have the luxury, you would find each other anyway.

“Something tells me I should hear it anyway.”

“Ah, it’s the sentimental Seonghwa tonight, I see,” you retorted and when he shot you a glare, you gave in. “I wish I could make this situation better for you.”

“Hmm… you’re doing your best, though. Try harder from tomorrow,” he ordered and you muttered a ‘yes sir’. “What’s the last bit?”

You bit your lips- would you dare tell him now? If he pushed you away, you would have to live with that. 

But then… he pushed you away all the time anyway, and there was Hwa. He made up for it.

“I just…” you started, finding his hand under the sheets and brushing your fingers against his. He remained still. “I just want you to hold on if things get hard.”

“Things will get better,” Seonghwa said, the words sounding like a lie even to himself. “I know I could die, we both could if the angels or anyone finds out about this, but… it will be okay. We will survive this, y/n. We always do.”

“I don’t want to live through that pain again,” you whispered. 

“Tsk. You’re strong. You’re a warrior, and you will survive,” he assured you. “I will make sure you do.”

While he did not hold your hand, he let your fingers remain where they were, caressing his and you moved just a bit so you could lightly link them. A shaky breath left your lips as you allowed yourself to relax, welcoming sleep and leaving Seonghwa to wonder if he could say the same about himself- would he survive this ordeal?

He would wonder about that later. 

~

When you opened your eyes the next morning, you were greeted by the sight of Seonghwa who was already awake and watching you. You frowned, rubbing your eyes and moving to check the time before slumping right back- you could still get a few minutes of sleep.

You shut your eyes and curled your body, fisting the sheets, your head spinning with drowsiness. About a minute passed when you realised that the person watching you sleep wasn’t Seonghwa-

It was the angel. 

You opened one eye to find him watching you with the softest gaze, lips parted. Your heart would have swooped if you weren’t half asleep.

“Never watched a human sleep, eh?” You asked, voice raspy.

“Not like this- not so closely,” he admitted.

And perhaps, the drowsiness was getting to your head. You moved closer, tucking your head under his chin. The angel’s body tensed and you grinned to yourself- your bodies were still maintaining a distance but at least he wouldn’t be able to see your sleepy face. 

“There we go. You can take an even closer look now,” you said, preparing to go back to sleep.

“I cannot see you anymore,” the angel complained.

“Perhaps, that is the whole point,” you told him.

“I suppose I can try something else then.”

Before you could ask what was going on in his head, he was tucking you closer, wrapping his arm around your waist. For a few moments, drowsiness left and clarity overcame your senses- Seonghwa had never cuddled like this with you. This- one arm draped over your waist, keeping you close, his other hand caressing your hair in an attempt to lull you back to sleep, your breaths synchronising with the rise and fall of his chest…

Heavens above.

“Do I scare you?” The angel asked cautiously and you made the mistake of looking up, finding his eyes filled with worry.

“No,” you admitted, watching his expressions morph into what had to be happiness. 

“Then relax, and get your fill of sleep.”

Easier said than done. The fact that it was ultimately Seonghwa’s body and his voice made this entire situation more difficult to comprehend. However, there was no other choice but to relax in the angel’s touch and perhaps, that’s what you were meant to do for now. You relaxed a bit and fisted his shirt- Seonghwa’s shirt- instead of the sheets. 

And when you woke up later, the angel was asleep, looking content. You knew it was the angel because Seonghwa looked like he was fighting demons even in his sleep. You smiled at the sight, daring to caress the angel- Seonghwa’s- face, feeling something sad building inside you. You tucked his hair away, the strands as soft as you remembered from years ago. You ran your fingers through his hair-

Wincing when you felt a sharp burn against your finger. You drew away your hand, finding a small part of your index finger singed- was there something in his hair? You cautiously ran your hand through his hair again-

A little yelp escaped your mouth as you felt a sharper burn this time and you clutched at your hand, a small red welt near your thumb now-

“Oh, dear,” the angel was awake and inspecting your hand worriedly. You looked at him in confusion and surprise as he shut his eyes to say a prayer, holding your hand to his forehead and then bringing it to his lips, planting soft kisses on the burns that seemed to be patching up as if there was never a wound in the first place.

You gasped in disbelief, inspecting your hand. “How did you do that?”

“I am sorry,” the angel’s brows were furrowed in pain as if he himself had received those burns. “I did not mean to- it is probably my halo. I did not know it would burn even as a human.”

“It’s okay,” you assured, examining your hand. “I’m all patched up now, aren’t I?”

“I hurt you-”

“It’s okay,” you broke into a smile. “It didn’t hurt too much- I was more surprised.”

“I burned you-”

“Hwa,” you cupped his face, making him look at you, his eyes glazed. “I’m a strong girl. These little burns don’t make me feel much. I receive burns all the time, see?” You showed him your hands and arms, littered with faded scars of burns. “In my field, you get used to it.”

“Your skin is not meant to be marred like this.”

“But humans carry the marks of their life all the time,” you told him. “Don’t you carry something like that too? If not on your body… in your heart?”

Hwa looked at you with thoughtful eyes, moving to sit cross-legged on the bed, never letting go of your hands as you moved to sit in front of him. He sighed deeply, unable to meet your eyes. 

“Do you want me to heal them?” He asked cautiously. You shook your head no.

“Each mark on my body tells a story. I’d like to keep them,” you explained.

“Can I… kiss your hands anyway?”

Oh. He was going to be the death of you.

“Do you have a thing for my hands, sir?” You joked. “These aren’t the prettiest hands ever, I can find you a better pair-”

The angel ignored your rambling, planting soft kisses on the back of both your hands before he looked up. “To me, they are beautiful, because they tell your story.”

“Hwa- you can’t just kiss my hands and act all normal afterwards. This is not normal.”

“I am an angel,” he told you, kissing each of your knuckles, looking almost drunk with his flushed cheeks and glazed eyes. “Normal cannot define or bound me.”

Your eyes twitched in half anger and half… submission. 

“What are you trying to do, Hwa? What are you trying to pull?”

“Do you think I have some hidden intentions?” He asked almost dangerously, and you thought that he looked obsessive for a second. “I- I only wanted to experience this feeling, and if you want to push me away, I will go back to hide in the corners-”

“What feeling do you want to experience so badly?”

“Being human,” he said, almost spat as if the idea appalled him too. “I cannot tell if it is the human in me making me feel so strange, but I want to touch and be touched. I want to live- I want to eat like humans do and savour the flavours on my tongue. I want to bask in the sun until it starts to burn me and float in the pool until I feel one with the water. I want to hold another human, feel their heartbeat against mine, do something about the yearning in my heart- I’ve never felt like this.”

For once, you had nothing to say. You simply watched the angel curl in on himself, looking like a broken piece.

“And I’m scared,” said the wounded soul. “I’m scared that I will never be able to go back to my realm. I’m scared of being okay with that. I’m scared of enjoying these human experiences. What if I do not hate the idea of being human and they find me? I do not want to die a human, yet…”

“I’m sorry for misunderstanding you,” you did not hesitate to pull the angel in your arms. If this was what he needed, you could give him that. The angel sucked in a breath but quickly melted in your arms, clutching at you almost childishly.

“I think I understand you,” you caressed his head, not caring how it burned your skin. “You’re a human, for now, whether you like it or not. This is your chance to experience what it is like to be a human without any boundaries. No one is stopping you, and I… I will protect you… until you are ready to go back. I hope you will be welcomed with open arms when you go back. You must miss your home so much, Hwa. I’m sorry I didn’t realise that- you do not have to be human to miss your home.”

Hwa buried his face in the crook of your neck, taking deep breaths. You winced at your damaged hands, resorting to hold him still instead. 

“Have you always been this mellow, oh angel?” You asked. 

“This is who I am,” the angel admitted, drawing away. “But you have seen how angry I can get.”

“Yeah, angry is an ugly look even on angels,” you agreed, shivering at the memory when you felt like he would have obliterated your existence with a mere swipe of his finger. You showed him your hands and he winced, looking apologetic but you smiled, making pride swell in his heart. With a prayer, he kissed every burn mark until your hands were back to normal.

“I will try to refrain from caressing your head from now on,” you stretched your fingers. “My hands are precious to me, thank you very much.”

The angel laughed, a small part of him knowing you wouldn’t be able to do that. You shared a laugh, smacking his back and asking him to get up and join you for breakfast.

Once again, in the privacy of your room, you crumbled to the floor. 

What were you doing? Letting the angel touch and hold you like that- he was supposed to be the touch-starved being, but you were no better. How could you do this to yourself- to Seonghwa?

Just what were you getting yourself into?

And why did the consequences of your actions not scare you?

Everything seemed to be in order in your life and Seonghwa’s, yet it had never been like this before.

Seonghwa never talked about your intimate interaction with the angel- you knew that he was able to see fragments of what was happening through the shared subconsciousness, and if he tried, he could even share consciousness now given that the angel would not resist. 

Either Seonghwa did not mind, which was unlikely, or for once, he had nothing to say, which was odd. He always had something to say about every situation, and his silence was louder than ever.

However, his behaviour was the same- in fact, he had grown more understanding in the past few days. Understanding of his situation, of the lack of control he had over his own body. Understanding that you were still trying to find ways to get the angel out of his body, contacting every demon summoner and going to dangerous places with him to learn more about the dark arts. You would never tell a soul that you were doing this for an angel. 

You had also started to look into the history of angels, and while the angel himself didn’t share much about his realm- sworn to secrecy, perhaps- he guided you anyway. He was able to confirm or deny whatever you read about angels. 

You came across his real name in one of the books and learned that he was an angel of fire- while he was not an archangel, he was considered to be one of the angels with their own conscience, which meant that he was capable of sin. You were confused about that topic so the angel silently turned the pages of your book until you were at the section of ‘Fallen Angels’.

That day, the angel wished to go out and fly, so you took him to the mountains instead where you sat on the edge of a rock and watched the world below. That’s when you asked him if there really was good and evil in every human.

“Humans are not inherently good, but humans lack the desire to sin when they are younger. As they grow older in their intellect, the desire to sin becomes something appealing to them. The more a person sins, the more evil they become until the goodness in their heart is nowhere to be found.”

“Do you think there’s any good in Seonghwa’s heart?” You asked and the angel looked at you. Dressed like Seonghwa in a fur coat with his hair twisted back and tied, you almost thought it was Seonghwa himself sitting beside you. 

“Do you believe there is good in this human’s heart?” The angel questioned.

“Maybe,” you pouted. 

“Does it matter to you if there is?”

“If it mattered, I would have left long ago,” you admitted and the angel nodded. 

“I cannot say if there is good in this heart, but there was something that pulled me to him instead of you, when I was going to possess you. Maybe the evil inside me resonated with his nature.”

“But you’re an angel,” you looked at him. “You’re not evil.”

“There is the desire in me to sin, therefore I am capable of being evil,” the angel responded. “I feel as if I am sinning even now. Sitting with a human, stuck inside one, unable to perform my duties…”

“Do you hate being evil so much? If this is what evil is to you?”

The angel did not answer your question. And it got you thinking that maybe, there was a goodness inside Seonghwa that created the space for the angel. If that was the case, there was evil inside the angel too. Maybe, this was the true meaning of balance- a human too evil, and an angel too good, yet both containing a little kernel of pureness and darkness in their hearts- both coexisting inside one body.

But if being human was what encompassed the idea of being evil for an angel, this angel sure was enjoying the most mundane experiences. He was no longer opposed to trying out new things- a smoke, which had him coughing his lungs out later, cotton candy from the stall because it looked like clouds (Seonghwa was not pleased about that, claiming it left an aftertaste in his mouth), and food. Food of all kinds because apparently, the human had not been enjoying eating lately.

The angel’s curiosity wasn’t satiated with just that. You almost felt as if you were teenagers again and going on dates. From picking flowers in gardens to learning how to ride a bike. You made sure all your outings were away from the eyes of the staff or anyone who could recognise you, because you were sure no one would like the most notorious mafia leader in the town wiping dust off the petals of flowers or screaming like a banshee before falling down from the bicycle unceremoniously. 

The angel- Hwa- was laughing like a human and it warmed your heart because Seonghwa had never been able to laugh like that. His laugh was pure and unrestrained, something humans usually wished for. His eyes sparkled as he observed the human world, watching and learning the concept of a family, of friends, of lovers. You could only wish Seonghwa was learning something along with the angel too.

While the angel started growing closer to you, the human started growing distant. Whenever Seonghwa took control of his body, he would busy himself with work and not correspond with you much- on anything. It would be up to you to update him of the recent developments, or learnings, or whatever you wished to tell him- he seemed the most uninterested. He didn’t care anymore if you wanted to talk, keep him under your surveillance or leave him alone. It was almost as if he had sworn himself to the silent treatment. 

This wasn’t the first time he behaved that way, but it was different this time. Whenever you did something wrong or made any sort of mistake, it was a given that Seonghwa was going to give you the cold shoulder for at least a couple of weeks. You could try to make him give in- bribe him with something that he could not resist (the latest Lego usually did the trick- he may be the mafia boss but he loved his legos) or treat him to something nice. That usually solved the matter, but each time you were not allowed to defend yourself. Sure, he would hear you out occasionally, but he would rarely ever be convinced.

This time was different. While he did not consciously push you away, his behaviour was doing nothing to help you. It was getting harder for you to not look forward to Hwa taking over- at least he didn’t look at you with contempt. Something was off about Seonghwa, and you were trying to ask him what was bothering him so much- he refused to meet eyes with you or converse with you properly and you knew no bribery could resolve this.

“Have we dispatched the first batch of drugs to Assemblyman Hwang?”

“We have, it’s written there,” you pointed at his tab and he hummed, dodging your question once again. You decided to change the topic.

“Do you think we should try something like exorcism? An angelic version of it? The theory doesn’t sound bad, does it?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Whatever you feel like.”

You stared at him- he was trying so hard to act normal. This wasn’t going to work.

“Are there any more documents to sign? My fingers are starting to hurt- you know how I was in the lab all day working with specimens-”

“So?” Seonghwa dropped the pen and finally looked at you, eyes cold enough to send a shiver along your spine. “Do you want the angel to take over and worship your hands again?”

You scoffed in disbelief, wondering if that was a joke. When he went back to marking notes, you tapped on the table to get his attention.

“Say that again,” you challenged.

“We all know how much you crave affection,” Seonghwa muttered. “Good thing the angel is willing to show you some, at least.”

Unbelievable. This was what was bothering him?

“I asked you time and time again to tell me if something was bothering you- why did you keep your feelings bottled up only to stab me with your words now?” You asked. “You think I enjoy the fact that you’re sharing your body with an angel? Forget about what the angel does, you think I really want you to disappear?”

“It sure feels like that sometimes. You’re doing well without me, aren’t you?” Seonghwa scoffed.

You felt blood rush to your head, making your vision go red for a moment. Rage. 

“I’m cooperating with the angel, Seonghwa. I’m playing along with anything the angel wants so you don’t have to suffer, you miserable, miserable bastard. I’m doing all of this so that the angel shares consciousness with you and does not mess up your business- or would you rather have the angel taking over and actively fighting back? Fuck you,” you spat, throwing your own pen across the table which he barely caught. 

Not a hint of remorse in those eyes, though his little smirk had disappeared.

“You’ve always sheltered me all your life,” you got up, lowering your voice and this time, guilt did flash in his eyes for a mere second. “You’ve made sure I had no one except you, and you made sure my eyes only found you- that I only looked at you. So forgive me, Seonghwa, if you finally look back for once and I still find my defences crumbling when it isn’t even you.”

With that, you turned to pick up your belongings and leave-

And when you heard the familiar sigh that marked the angel taking over, you froze.

Had Hwa perhaps heard that? All of that?

You cautiously looked at him, finding his eyes filled with hurt. He almost looked grieved.

“Hwa-”

“Stop,” the angel raised his hand in the air, his voice dripping with sadness. “Not another word-”

“No, listen-”

“I know what I mean to you now,” Hwa said with a restrained voice as if still struggling to accept what he had heard. “There is nothing more that you can offer me.”

“I only said all of that because of Seonghwa,” you explained gently. “I did not mean that-”

“Yeah, Seonghwa heard that,” the angel said, shutting his eyes. “The damage has been done, human. To both of us.”

“Hwa, angel,” you dropped your stuff and took a few steps towards him but he left the room, leaving you regretting every word that you had said. Your eyes welled with tears and you took a few deep breaths, the tight feeling in your throat growing with each passing second.

You needed to find him- Hwa.

You looked in Seonghwa’s room first, but he wasn’t there. You wondered if he went to the pool and on your way there, you searched the rooms, asking the few staff members who were present if they had seen their boss around. None of them had. 

And when you found the pool empty, you sank to the ground and buried your face between your knees, letting out choked sobs- it had been years since you had cried. You were not sure if you were crying because of Seonghwa, or Hwa, or just everything- 

But it looked like you would be filling the pool with your tears tonight.

You cried until there were no more tears left, until your clothes were soaked. You sobbed until your throat felt raw, your nails leaving dents in your skin where you dug them in your palm. You silently cried until you heard the familiar footsteps, and it was almost surprising how that triggered a fresh stream of tears.

Was that Seonghwa? Or was that the wretched angel who had taken over your mind and soul? It didn’t matter anymore-

“Why do you cry, my dear?”

The damned angel. You brought your knees closer in an attempt to hide your face, but it looked like the angel was not going to give up. He sat in front of you, taking your hands in his and making you flinch visibly. Hurt, he let go of them.

“What is the reason for your tears?” He asked gently. You took a deep breath, sneaking a peek and finding his eyes puffy as well.

“Don’t tell me that you cried and wasted your essence,” you muttered, making the angel shake his head in disbelief. 

“I told you that the essence is of no use to you. I wiped every trace of it, don’t worry.”

You sighed, burying your head back between your knees. This time, when the angel hesitantly brushed his fingers against yours, you didn’t flinch away. However, he made no attempt to hold your hands either, only tracing the outlines of your fingers.

“I am sorry for my behaviour,” the angel said and you looked up at him. “I should have given you a chance to speak. I know humans say things they do not mean all the time- and if it is of any relief to you, your human Seonghwa did not mean to hurt you like that either.”

“It doesn’t matter,” you told him. “The damage has been done.”

The angel gave you a look. “You have a habit of throwing my words back at me.”

“It’s the truth, though,” you said, getting up and the angel followed. You wiped your face, tired. “I meant what I said. Every word of it. Yet…”

You looked sideways, biting your lips to keep more words from spilling. The angel looked at you expectantly.

“Seonghwa is not able to hear or see anything right now- I’ve pushed him back. So you can say what you want to me.”

You took a deep breath. “I’m not spending time with you because I’m scared of you, or scared of what you will do to Seonghwa. Yes, initially I was- of course I would be. I’m only a human and you’re a divine being. However… I don’t know, Hwa. I’ve always wanted Seonghwa to really look at me, to acknowledge me. And when you look at me, when you are with me… strangely, I find myself forgetting all about Seonghwa.”

“Is that the truth?” He asked cautiously and you nodded. You weren’t going to lie now. 

“I’m exhausted. I don’t know what I want or what I’m doing, but I just want you to know that I like you. I’m not simply cooperating with you, I like spending time with you- just you, the angel who’s beginning to live like a human. I know I’m supposed to get you out of this body even if it means that you get hurt in the process, and frankly, I’m still searching for a way to get you out, but…”

“But?” The angel asked and you mustered the last bits of courage in you, for the final declaration- the one you were too afraid to admit and even more scared to say out loud.

“Tell me,” the angel beckoned, taking a step towards you. You let your eyes scan him- the body of Seonghwa, clad in a black shirt and slacks, yet not his demeanour. Seonghwa’s face, yet unlike any expressions he had worn. His messy curls falling on his face only made him look more human, and it hurt.

“I don’t want you to leave, angel,” you confessed with a short laugh, letting the angel wonder what that meant. You turned to leave- at least you could put distance between the two of you-

“Then stay. Make me stay,” the angel’s voice was firm, almost as commanding as Seonghwa’s, but authoritative in an entirely different manner. A request, a favour. A plea.

“You’re an angel,” you reminded him, your voice wavering. “You are supposed to be performing your duties, you are supposed to be righteous and not give in to sin.”

“Yet here I am,” he shrugged, smiling in defeat. “Falling from grace and finding pleasure in sin- if this is what sin is.”

“Can I really ask you to stay?” You held your breath.

“You could ask me to fall from the heavens, and I would. I think I have already fallen. And I’m afraid of what I will let myself do for you, so stay, please.”

This was an angel, ready to sink to his knees for you. Your breath quickened as you turned, your heart ready to burst from the sheer amount of emotions.

“Where’s Seonghwa?”

“Not anywhere near,” the angel confirmed, the two of you moving towards each other, the magnetic pull stronger than ever. Your arms wrapped around each other in a tight embrace, laughter bubbling out from the angel’s body and you soon joined- smiling in relief. 

This was where you were meant to be. In his arms, feeling safe. Feeling loved. 

You broke apart, his hands resting on the dip of your waist. You brought your hands to wipe the remnants of his tears from his eyelids, shaking your head and he smiled guiltily. Your gaze stuck on his parted, plump lips and before the angel could express any doubts, you secured your confession by capturing his lips in a soft kiss, making the angel freeze.

You drew back and looked at him in confusion, anxiety starting to bubble in your throat once again- had you made a wrong move? However, the angel seemed as if he was in a daze, his eyes travelling all over your face. 

“What do you think you are doing, love?” He asked, cupping your face and tucking your hair back, not giving you a second to respond as he kissed your forehead sweetly, moving to pepper kisses all over your face, sometimes letting his lips linger as if he was relishing the feel of his lips against your skin. You fisted his shirt and raised your face right when he leaned down, your lips colliding in a passionate, slow kiss that soon started feeling heated as you moved your mouths in tandem with each other, pulling each other impossibly closer. 

You broke apart for breath but it looked like the angel was not planning to let you go. He sucked at your lower lip and you welcomed him with an open mouthed kiss, making the angel lose his footing and take a few steps back, your laughter and breaths mingling. You grinned, leaping in his arms and making him back away another few steps as he struggled to maintain balance while kissing you at the same time-

And due to his own fault, forgetting there was a pool full of water behind, he let the force of your kiss physically push him back until there was no ground under his feet and he clutched at you, both of you yelping as you fell in the cool water. 

You almost swallowed some but managed to find your way up, laughing helplessly at the state of you two- absolutely drenched. The angel swiped his hair back and you let your eyes roam all over his upper body, the fabric of his shirt clinging to the muscles that Seonghwa had worked hard to build. For a moment, a tiny moment, you remembered Seonghwa but any thoughts of him went out of your head when you spotted Hwa scan your body with a searing gaze that stuck on the way your clothes clung to you. 

“Like what you see?” You teased. The angel licked his lips in response, swimming closer and wrapping his arms around your waist, bringing your bodies flush against each other. You breathed heavily, letting his shoulders act as a brace as you lifted your body and captured his lips in a wet kiss, tasting water and kissing him as if he was meant to quench your thirst. You made out for what seemed like hours, his hands travelling all over your body, alternating from kissing your lips to feasting on your neck, his groans and moans fuelling you, your hands and arms singed in various spots, even nicked at places.

“Oh, angel,” you whispered against his ears, sucking at his earlobe. “They might clip your wings for this.”

“I do not need to fly if I am with you,” he declared, cupping your face and making you lock eyes with him. “How did you entrap me with that demonic heart of yours, human?”

All you could do was smile devilishly in response. “Maybe you have craved darkness all your life.”

“Perhaps,” he kissed your lips sweetly. “If this is what darkness is… I wish I will never see the light again.”

“Shut up,” you laughed, hugging him tightly. 

Angel. Your angel. The light in your dark life.

He kissed the cuts and burns on your arms, preparing you to get hurt for him again. A pain that you were starting to get addicted to.

Seonghwa had never had to apologise for a thing in his life.

Every decision he made came with consequences and he might harbour regrets but he would never bow down in front of someone and apologise. The other parties involved would just have to make peace with that. 

He did not believe in the idea of apologising, even when time and time again he caused you hurt or discomfort and you demanded that he show some remorse to make things better. He preferred to let the tension die down instead and let your defences lower until you would forget that he wronged you in the first place. You only had him, so where would you go if you broke things off with him?

However, as Seonghwa got a look at himself through the reflection of the mirror-engraved wall of Assemblyman Hwang’s office, he shut his eyes for a moment and saw red. He willed himself to maintain his composure and smiled at the Assemblyman.

No wonder the man wasn’t taking him seriously.

“- rest assured, we’ll do our best to keep this inside the underworld channels and not let any scandals surface, so you can keep on providing us with the goods, okay?” the man said, pouring red wine for the both of them while Seonghwa clenched and unclenched his fists. “I mean, I know we almost messed up but we were quick to clean it up-”

“If another mess-up happens,” Seonghwa started in a low voice, making the middle-aged man frown, “Not only will I retract and clean up your mess, but I will make sure to wipe all evidence. And that, of course, includes all consumers. You understand that, right?”

Seonghwa took a sip of the red wine, watching the politician fidget with his clothes, a nervous laugh escaping his mouth. “Of course!”

Seonghwa set the glass on the table. “It’s a dark world we live in. Gotta make sure it doesn’t get any darker, yeah?” 

The politician, who always rambled about eradicating darkness from the world in his campaigns, grimaced at the mockery of his slogan. Seonghwa got up and left the room, hiding his face with his fur coat as much as he could.

Once inside the privacy of his car, he glared at the driver who squirmed but got the message. Seonghwa slumped back and wiped at his left cheek where the very vivid and recognisable red kiss mark was printed.

He was going to kill you for making a fool of him.

It was his fault- the driver had tried to warn him with a ‘Um, sir… you might want to freshen up before the meeting’. Thinking that the driver was just suggesting that because he was meant to meet a politician, Seonghwa told him that there was no need. He did not need to look anything else than the crazy man that he was. His appearance was crucial in making first impressions, and with this rough look, he wanted to show the politician just who he was dealing with. He had some points to get across. 

However, the kiss mark on his cheek watered down that roughness wantonly. No wonder the politician had been smirking for the entire duration of the meeting.

Seonghwa sighed deeply. Again, it was his fault, ultimately. He never apologised for the argument you both had, and after regaining consciousness and finding himself under covers with you, snuggled way too close for his liking, he waited until you got up. He did not like the way your expressions darkened when you realised it was not the angel anymore.

You simply informed him that the angel and you had a talk, and he had decided to block Seonghwa from watching his consciousness. Seonghwa and you got into an argument again where he wondered if you were trying to do something behind his back- an assumption he immediately regretted making- and you told him that the only time Hwa would be blocking Seonghwa would be when you and Hwa had something ‘personal’ going on; nothing regarding Seonghwa and his state- or his business, even. Seonghwa tried to probe in hopes of getting an answer as to what ‘personal’ entailed but you didn’t give in.

And it seemed like he got his answer anyway. While the angel was consciously trying to block him at times, he saw the way you looked at Hwa very well. You used to look at him like this before, eyes wide and expectant, something like affection dripping from them. And now you had found someone else-

Except this was also Seonghwa, technically. One body, one mind, but two different souls. 

He just needed to find out if you were serious about this- the angel inside his body was going to leave one day. If you were doing this just to piss Seonghwa off… it was working, but you did not need to go to such extents. 

He did not want you to go to such an extent. He did not want to carry your kiss marks just anywhere- those things were meant to stay in the privacy of his house, right? He did not want to wake up with you in his arms anymore, without any memories of how you got there in the first place. He was supposed to be the one who tucked you in bed- only him. He did not want to hear the echoes of your laughter in his subconsciousness- he did not want you to laugh like that in front of just anyone. He did not want his lips to hold the whisper of your name or the taste of your skin- no one could touch you like that.

He was going to kill you. For sure. But first, he was going to block the angel out of his mind. 

Seonghwa wasn’t sure how that would work, but he tried his best to focus on what was here and what was real instead of the being inside his head. Once he arrived at your lab where he was supposed to pick you up and take you home, he asked the driver to stay, opting to find you himself. The lab was a nice place to get rid of you- he wouldn’t need to clean the mess. Your own people would clean that up for you, just like they had always wiped the evidence of your sins.

At the sight of your tired figure making a chart on the wall with the progress of your ‘angelic expulsion’ discoveries, all his resolve crumbled. 

You had a habit of making charts and calculating probabilities to visualise your learnings- whether it be about your scientific data, theoretical data or mundane things- would Seonghwa be able to kill the rival gang’s leader? Probability– 89 percent. Factors– temper, first and foremost, which affects his strategy and attack. Accounts for 11 percent though the figure may vary on how his day went. Factors– me. Am I in danger? If I am, the probability of winning increases exponentially because he won’t let a fly hurt me. If I am not… does it decrease his willpower? Check-

Seonghwa found himself smiling at the memory- you were making this effort- for him, right? Despite everything, you were trying to get the angel out of his body so he could leave you both alone, right?

You caught Seonghwa staring at you from the window and beckoned him to come inside. He entered with a huff and you frowned at his cold stance.

“What? Did the meeting not end well?” You asked.

“It went well, but it could have gone better were it not for-” Seonghwa pointed at his cheek and it took a moment to click.

“Oh,” you grinned. “Did I forget to wipe that? My bad-”

Seonghwa walked in front of you but you did not move. He peered down at you, watching you with a threatening gaze. It would have worked on others, but it didn’t work on you- not anymore.

“Have you made it your life’s mission to get back at me? This is playing dirty, Doctor.”

“Oh, so I’m ‘Doctor’ now, eh? Keeping it professional this time?” You narrowed your eyes. “Honestly, I forgot to wipe that-”

“You can’t tell me that wasn’t deliberately placed there,” Seonghwa countered.

“It was deliberately placed. Just not for you,” you patted his chest before turning away, wanting to get away from him but he grabbed your wrist and brought you right back where you were- even closer this time.

“This is not the first time, though,” Seonghwa smiled dangerously, fixing your glasses for you and tucking your hair back. “It’s a repeated offence, darling.”

It was. You were purposely trying to mess with Seonghwa, that was partly true. From making the angel try Seonghwa’s least favourite drink just before he was about to switch so there would be an aftertaste in Seonghwa’s mouth, to messing up with his appearance or clothes. Seonghwa’s patience was running out for all the right reasons. 

“Hmm, well,” you tried not to squirm under his gaze. “I’m guilty.”

“I came here planning to kill you for once and all,” Seonghwa admitted, cocking his head and watching his finger trail down the curves of your face. This wasn’t the first time you had heard this phrase, but something told you that he might actually have been considering it. “But it looks like you are making some effort. Progress, even?”

“Ah, this?” You gulped, looking at the board. “Yeah, I think I’m onto something- but there’s a catch, and… I’ll have to talk with Hwa to make sure this doesn’t end bad for any of you-”

“For any of us?” Seonghwa frowned. “You’re only supposed to care about how it ends for me. That being is an angel, he’ll make it-”

“But I want him to make it out safely,” you interrupted, trying to get a point across but Seonghwa seemed too frustrated to process it. “It would be in our best interests if the angel leaves safely-”

“Your best interest,” Seonghwa pointed his finger at you, giving in and huffing. “Not mine. It was never about me, was it?”

“You’re right, not everything is about you. Just listen to me for once, you fool,” you scolded, making him sit on a stool so you could meet his eyes properly and hopefully assert some authority. “Suppose the angel somehow gets hurt or dies. That’s going to be the end of your empire- a horrible, miserable end. We’re lucky this angel got stuck inside you and all his rage dissipated because you’re too stubborn to let the angel take control. You understand?”

“I understand everything,” Seonghwa said calmly. “I just don’t understand why you care about the angel- what is he to you, y/n?”

What was Hwa to you?

The angel who looked past the sins that covered the entirety of your heart, scratched through the darkness to find a home in your heart. The angel that burned you and hurt you with his love, shed tears for you and healed you only to put you through the pain of loving him again. The angel that wanted you to release him from the clutches of the demon that Seonghwa was, yet wished to stay and give up who he was so he could be with you.

If someone would hear that out loud, they would laugh in disbelief, but you had never craved something good and pure all your life until you met Hwa. You were content in the darkness next to Seonghwa, were you not?

“Cat got your tongue?” Seonghwa asked and you shook your head, but there was nothing else left to say. He asked you to join him in the car and you followed after a few moments with your belongings, the ride home awfully silent. 

That night, you did not join him in his room. You stayed in yours, darkness swallowing your room and you. Perhaps, if you stared long enough into the distance, you would become one with the dark. 

However, a few hours and a soft knock later, you were joined by your doom and your salvation- only you did not know which one it was thanks to the lack of light in the room. The figure plopped down next to you on the floor with a heavy sigh, his shoulders brushing with yours and you both sat in utter silence.

When his fingers brushed with yours, you almost thought it was Hwa- he must have heard your conversation, must want answers. But when he wrapped your hand in his and squeezed it with a promise, you knew it wasn’t the angel.

It was the demon- and you were no longer sure if he was your doom or your salvation. 

“This isn’t a sorry attempt at an apology, is it, Seonghwa?” You asked and you could almost hear him smile.

“I’ll be dead before you hear those words out of my mouth. You know that,” he said and you squeezed his hand back. 

A few moments of silence passed, thick with confusion and tension. You caved in and asked, “What’s going on in your head?”

“I don’t know, but the angel is asleep for once,” Seonghwa told you. “It almost feels like I’m back to who I was, except… even when the angel is asleep, I’m carrying remnants of him.”

“What does that mean?”

Seonghwa squeezed your hand in answer- this. This was unusual- sure, there was a certain extent of physical ‘affection’ between you two, if it could even be called affection. It was reserved for teasing, and in rare cases, support. 

“I don’t know why I’m here, but I am, and I don’t want to leave.”

“You love me,” you teased and he laughed a bit, but when he did not deny that, your smile fell- and for once, you were glad it was so dark. 

“You’re incapable of love, Seonghwa. I think something in you broke when you loved your other half only to let him go so soon.”

His brother- not in the biological sense, but a family nonetheless. While you and Seonghwa were reflections of each other, Hongjoong and Seonghwa had been as similar as they were different. Hongjoong was the light, pulling Seonghwa out of his darkness while Seonghwa pulled him back in. And what a pair they made, balancing each other out in every sense yet never clashing, each rotten in their own twisted ways. It had been Hongjoong’s idea to leave the orphanage and mingle with the gangs- he did not leave with you two but found you just a week later, covered in soot and blood but smiling like a free spirit.

He had freed all the kids from the orphanage that destroyed you all- the people who clipped your wings when you hadn’t even learned to walk. He freed the kids, burned the building and all the guilty parties involved- at the mercy of luck. He got the kids to another orphanage through his connections-

And when Seonghwa asked him if you could use those kids to test your drugs on, Hongjoong had shaken his head in amusement but allowed it. It was ultimately bad luck that took his life only a few years later, right before Seonghwa’s career peaked.

He had not been the same since- and you understood. Hongjoong was your friend too- you grieved with him but he never moved on. He got their nickname tattooed on his neck so he was reminded every moment of what he lost.

“I think I’ve always been like this,” Seonghwa countered. “You just need an excuse to justify my behaviour towards you.”

Well. That was also partially true.

“But you’ve always accepted me as I am,” Seonghwa continued. “Some might think you actually love me, y/n.”

“But I do,” you admitted with a whisper. “I thought you knew that by now.”

“You love the whisper of good that you think I possess, dear,” Seonghwa corrected gently. “And once I got possessed by the angel, you found an excuse to love me without harbouring any guilt in that twisted heart of yours.”

If words could tear your heart apart- this was why the truth was so harsh. You took a shuddery breath and Seonghwa caressed your hand.

“You weren’t meant to live in the dark, y/n. I pulled you in and clung to you because you were the only one who saw me for who I am. Perhaps, even a better version of who I was, though I didn’t need that.”

“That’s arguable,” you laughed a bit. “I’ve got more blood on my hands than I can ever atone for. All for what? For science? For you?”

“You make it sound like it’s a bad thing,” he teased. You both chuckled at that, knowing very well how bad it was. You let a few moments pass, clutching on to his hand and he sensed the question before you said it out loud.

“Why did you come inside the room that day, Seonghwa? Why did you try to shield me from the angel?”

Silence. Only the sound of your breaths in the room.

“To protect you, of course,” Seonghwa answered. “Because you are my weapon, and I am your shield.”

Oh, him and his words.

“Isn’t it the other way round?” You pondered out loud. “You act like my weapon sometimes too-”

“Because,” he said, almost sounding as soft as the angel. “Because I saw the angel look at you the way only I am supposed to look at you. Did he take a look into your heart? Did he find it captivating- is that why he decided to possess you? I could not let the angel taint my warrior any further, so I shielded you.” 

“Except the angel liked that,” you sighed in realisation. “The angel found your courage more attractive and got pulled towards you. 

“Yet the angel continues to taint your body,” Seonghwa clasped your hand in his. “I don’t like that. I don’t like it at all.”

Silence. The sound of your heart beats.

“There is a pureness in your heart, Seonghwa,” you concluded.  “And… there is a darkness in the angel’s heart- I’ve seen it. You balance each other just right. That is why the angel is stuck inside you, and I’m beginning to wonder if you two are beyond help now.”

Deafening silence this time.

“You will try, at least once. For me,” Seonghwa declared.

“I will try more than once for you, if it means it will work and you two will be separate entities, and-” you faltered, the whisper of the promise you made with Hwa ghosting on your lips. 

If there was a guarantee that the angel would be able to stay in the human realm after leaving this body, you would perform whatever ritual, whatever sacrifice was required. But if there was none… you would not let him leave this body.

And now with Seonghwa right next to you, you wondered if the promise you made came from your heart. Hwa made you promise that and put the words between your lips, but did you mean it? Were you really going to keep that promise? Would you risk Seonghwa’s well-being for the angel?

Or were you just caught between two utterly selfish beings, holding the key to freedom for one or the other, or none?

When you got a call from Dr. Choi in the middle of the night, asking you to check the files he had sent you and come to the lab if possible, you were glad that Hwa had not taken over tonight and you were in your own room, which meant that you could sneak out without the angel’s knowledge.

And in the middle of tiptoeing through the hall did you realise- 

Why were you wary of the angel now?

Sure, the angel had told you time and time again that you could not possibly make use of his essence- you could learn from its chemical composition if that pleased you, but he was adamant about you not experimenting with it. You understood why- working with demonic essence had been risky business and this time, there was the threat of the angel realm finding out about your work too.

However, one thing you had realised in the past few days was that the angel was a soldier at his very core. A soldier of god, bound to duty and true to his morals despite being in a human body and trying to live like one. There were still some boundaries the angel was unwilling to cross, and you were beginning to think if his righteousness was what was hindering you from making some groundbreaking discovery about the essence or if you were simply too trusting of him. 

And then there was the fact that the angel wanted you- wanted to be with you. He spent all his conscious hours by your side, looking past your sins and loving you for the person that you were at the very core. He claimed that that person was beautiful and everything he could ever have desired for. He held you as if you were fragile, kissed you as if that was the last time he would get to do so, and loved you like no human ever could. He bowed in front of you and thanked you for seeing him as something other than the being that he was. His love was burning but it was pure. 

His love was pure, but it was starting to cloud your judgement and you needed to recalibrate yourself every time you were alone.

So good timing from Dr. Choi too. You drove to the lab yourself and found him wide awake, which was odd because he liked his night sleep very much. You entered the office and asked, “I couldn’t read the notes because I decided to just come and visit. Brief me.”

“You asked me to extract and replicate any components of the angelic essence that is similar to the demonic essence, right?” Dr. Choi pulled a stool for you so you could examine the sample under the microscope. “Take a look at this.”

You gave him a sceptic look before examining the two samples in front of you. For a moment, you were confused before it clicked-

“These samples- they are existing independently, without being linked in any way to the essence as a whole, right?” 

“Bingo,” Dr. Choi smiled proudly. “Almost killed myself during the extraction process but I’ve managed to get the non-volatile compounds out of this. Similar to the demonic essence, but still different enough in its properties that experimentation seems like worth giving a shot to.”

“Even if this does not have medicinal properties,” you started to read the notes, “It can still become a different type of drug.”

“A new line of drugs- that’s the least that can come out of this. As for the medical side, we can always keep researching, right?” 

“Seonghwa’s gonna be so pleased to hear this news-”

But Hwa. 

“The angel won’t be,” Dr. Choi said out loud for you and you pursed your lips. While the doctor was not aware of the shift in your relationship with the angel, he knew very well how adamant the angel had been in not letting you conduct experimentation with his essence. “Does the angel need to know about this?”

“I mean… we could conduct our experimentation in secret. According to him, we might be under threat if we let the essence be consumed as a drug of any sort. Something about how it becomes a marker for the angels. But if we’re just experimenting and erasing any evidence of human consumption simultaneously… that shouldn't be a problem, right?”

“And technically, even if we are found by the angels or whatever, we just… die. Poof. We’re used to living under those conditions anyway- do or die.”

You shared a grin with the doctor, but could you really give him and yourself a go-ahead for human experimentation with angelic essence? 

The answer was simple- you could, and you can. This was your decision, and if it were not for the angel interfering with your work, you wouldn’t even be so cautious about making your decisions. This was not you. Were you scared of the angel’s wrath? Sure. You were scared of Seonghwa’s wrath too, it wouldn’t be any different. 

But this- this was your realm, and you set the rules here. No one- not Seonghwa, and certainly not Hwa could interfere. 

“Contact the orphanage and the prison. We’re getting busy in the coming days.”

~

People argued about what was something that made them feel alive. What sort of human experience was exciting enough to make them feel charged, have electricity buzzing through their veins and heighten their senses? 

Some called it ‘the thrill’. They searched for it in the dark pits of this world, succumbing to their desires and inevitably losing themselves, becoming as hollow as shells. While searching for a way to feel alive, they would end up losing all purpose. 

Others searched for it in human experiences- love, happiness and other emotions and feelings. They would go out seeking ‘adventure’, connecting with nature and finding meaning in the simplest things- in the creation, in everything around them, in life itself. 

You, however, might be the odd one out. You stood at the threshold, tipping between ‘the thrill’ and ‘human experiences’ constantly and finding home at that tipping point. Some might argue that you were delusional and your means of feeling alive was something that deserved a special kind of judgement to have you sent into the deepest, darkest pits of hell. Was hell not simply a concept that humans created to delude themselves? Some found ‘the thrill’ in the hell they created for themselves, while the others used hell as an excuse to shape themselves into what they imagined a human should be. 

Your means of feeling alive- you felt the most alive when you were working in your element, in your field. When you were playing with chemicals and experimenting on live subjects - or inspecting the dead. When you were performing practically, creating products and testing them, unhindered by any ethical or legal boundaries. In this lab, you were the creator, the judge and the creation. You were the action and the consequence. Here, you found both the thrill and the human experience. Here, you were truly alive. 

“Another one passes,” you watched the vitals of one of your test subjects drop significantly- nothing that could be done about it. You had fed the young adult the angelic essence and though the timespan of the reaction towards it had lengthened a bit, he went into shock soon after. You tried saving the young adult but to no avail. “Another one bites the dust.”

“The things you say sometimes,” Dr. Choi shook his head in amusement, passing you a scalpel and you carefully made a vertical incision along the subject’s upper body, grimacing at the sight of the discoloured blood. “Shit, that’s just like what happened with the demonic essence.”

“Except we’re using the same quantity- that means the angelic essence might be stronger than the demonic one. We need to dilute it further,” you decided and he agreed, continuing with the inspection of the internal organs which appeared almost burnt. 

You had been spending more time in the lab in the past few days especially at night to start testing how practical an angelic drug would be. Seonghwa was aware of your recent occupation and was also a little proud of how driven you were this time. He made sure the angel would not look into his memory too much and you both decided to keep the conversation about this topic to a minimum. Seonghwa was also taking over at night time more so he could get proper sleep, he claimed, although you wondered if it was so you could have more time working in the lab.

While the angel wondered if it was because Seonghwa wanted him to stay away from you.

Hwa had no idea of the recent developments in the lab and was only aware that you had contacted the summoner from the ritual that chained him to Seonghwa and were preparing to try another ritual, currently researching if it would be safe for the both of them. He thought that was what you were busy with during the day and was wondering if that was what occupied your thoughts when you were with him.

And if the angel was a little honest with himself… he was a little scared of what you felt for Seonghwa. 

He understood that Seonghwa was the only person in your life from the beginning, and your bond with him was something irreplaceable. He also tried to be understanding when Seonghwa started blocking his memories and consciousness actively- if the angel could do that to him, so could he. The angel had no right to complain anymore. However… what did the two of you do when the angel was out of the picture? 

Nothing, was the answer. You would work in your respective spaces, sometimes chat about something or anything. On rare occasions when one of you was feeling sentimental, you would find the other and share comfortable silence or tease each other. That was it.

However, the angel may be oblivious to some things but he was no fool, nor was he blind. Seonghwa did feel something for you that went beyond what the word ‘love’ encompassed, and if the angel was really honest with himself, that was what he was scared of. 

So at the first opportunity when Seonghwa’s defences lowered just as he was about to fall asleep, the angel violated their recent agreement and took over forcefully. 

Hwa looked around, expecting to find you in the room- weren’t you supposed to keep watch on both of them? Or had you gone to your room to rest?

The angel found himself shrugging on a robe over the black tank top that he was wearing before exiting Seonghwa’s room and going towards yours. He knocked softly and opened the door, worried about waking you up if you were asleep, but he found the room empty and your usual belongings gone. So you were not home.

And that meant you had to be at the lab. There was no place else you could be- even your car was not in the garage.

So the angel found himself outside the lab, sensing something off about the air even before he entered. He found the lab room where you usually worked with Dr. Choi empty, your belongings dispersed around the room. So where were you? 

A warning song- similar to the one he used to sing to the humans who needed a little reminder of how small and insignificant they really were in this world- started sounding in his head. The angel wasn’t sure if he was singing it or if it was being sung for him. 

He got his answer when he found you in the dark basement, the stench of blood and something rotten filling his nostrils. He froze at the sight of you- you were beautiful, lit by the dim white overhead light, but so, so tainted with blood and sin. The dead bodies all around you… the humans that were alive but silently begging to be killed. Your eyes, sparkling as you looked around, blood splattered across your scrubs. The angel looked around and his heart sank as realisation hit him-

You were experimenting with the angelic essence.

The angel saw red before his eyes before he knocked on the door. You looked up and waved at the man, your smile falling when you realised it was the angel in front of you. 

“Uh… I’ll be back,” you told Dr. Choi who told you to take your time. You were nearly done anyway and you could go home soon. 

You opened the door for the angel, his gaze unforgiving and suddenly, you were gripped with the same fear that you had felt when you first saw him.

“I forbade you to not experiment with the essence, but here you are.”

“Why are you here?” You asked and the angel raised a brow.

“Funny that this is the first thing you ask,” he commented, glancing inside the room through the slightly ajar door. “Y/n… I trusted you to keep your word.”

“Look,” you sighed, taking off your mask and cap. “I’m not doing this for the medicinal drug- you told me that it would be no use and I took your word for it.”

“Then what is this for?”

“For…” you contemplated making an excuse or lying but it was too late.  “For the drugs, Hwa. I’m just trying to see if a compound extracted from the essence can be consumed like the ones from the demonic essence are-”

“I told you not to experiment!” The angel raised his voice and you shut your eyes, exhaling. “Why do you need to make a drug out of angelic essence? Do you have any idea of the consequences if this gets out-”

“I do,” you started moving towards another room and once in some privacy, you glared at him, his features seeming sharper with the faint lights casting shadows on his angry face. 

“It’s not like I’m manufacturing the drug, Hwa. We’re far from it- I’m only studying.”

“That is how you study?” The angel pointed towards the direction of the room and scoffed. “Killing humans as if their lives mean nothing?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, folding your arms. “You know who I am. I have blood on my hands- more blood than even Seonghwa has on his. You call him a rotten excuse of a human for who he is, right? Then I’m worse. I’m a demon, and you knew it, yet you chose to love me and hold my hands as if they were a holy relic.”

The angel’s eyes flashed with hurt- of course he knew. 

“You are heartless,” he breathed out as if saying those words was hurting him. “I knew that. You are right, I knew who you were. I just thought…”

“That I would change?” You shook your head. “You thought that I would become a better person? Well, this is who I am, angel. This is what my life is. You asked me not to experiment with the essence, but you know that my heart’s deepest desire is to create more advanced drugs. You can’t stop me from doing anything to get there.”

“That is what my word means to you,” his expressions shifted from hurt to anger. “That is what my love means to you. You heartless devil. You and Seonghwa really were made for each other.”

“I may be heartless but you’re naive, and don’t think for a moment that you have any control over me, angel,” you spat the words, taking a few steps towards him for emphasis. “And you- you’re a liar. You told me that we could not get anywhere with the essence. You said you could not lie.”

The angel’s eyes almost glowed with the whirlwind of emotions that he was feeling, and your pointed finger in his face wasn’t making things better. He curled your finger back into your fist and held it in his hand, his touch physically burning you and you snatched your hand away with a yelp.

“Angels cannot lie, but they can hide the truth.”

A wave of anger washed over you and you looked at him in disbelief. “What other truths are you hiding from me? You know how to get out of this body, don’t you? Are you staying back on purpose? Are you not letting go of this body on purpose, Hwa?”

“You asked me to stay,” he smiled and you thought there was something sinister about his smile, especially as he started tucking your hair back and lightly caressing your face. “You think I am a liar, my love?” 

You shook your head, nothing making sense anymore. “Just tell me if you know how to get out of this body without hurting Seonghwa.”

“I am neither lying nor hiding the truth about this. I do not know how to get out of this body.”

“Is that the complete truth?” You dared to ask and the angel didn’t answer, holding your hurt hand and saying his prayers before starting to kiss it wherever it was burned. Tears of frustration started stinging your eyes and you looked away from his burning gaze. 

“Do you hate me?” The angel asked with a cautious voice and you did not respond. 

It shifted something in the angel, perhaps indefinitely. 

“Do not ever look away when I look at you,” he commanded, his voice settling in your bones and you felt as if you were almost compelled to meet his eyes. His face was void of expressions, gaze dark and he cupped your face, making you shut your eyes in pain when his touch started singing your skin but the angel did not care- he was far too gone in that moment. He moved closer, your bodies flush against each other and he trailed his lips along your forehead, peppering kisses along the way and then he kissed your wet lids, drawing back.

“Look at me,” he commanded again and you opened your eyes. You were frozen in place- not because you were scared, but because you simply could not believe that the angel was hurting you like this, his hands moving to your neck, wrists and any bare skin he could find, imprinting his touch in the form of light burns. He moved to kiss your cheek, licking the tears away and your breath quickened-

His love was pure, but this? This wasn’t who the angel was. 

Or were you just now getting to see the true face of the angel?

As he continued to kiss your neck and leave more singes on your skin, your body responded almost automatically and you curled into his figure, shuddering. You recalled reading something about angels and fallen angels in a book– it said something about how the angels were just god’s warriors, hollow at their core, one of their wings marred with blood for eternity. You asked Hwa what really was the difference between an angel and a fallen angel at their very core, and he did not have an answer-

Was it because he was also someone like you, struggling to stand on the threshold between being an angel or becoming a fallen angel?

What sort of an angel would hurt their human like this? 

And how did this angel go from crying because his touch burned you to purposely burning you? Maybe this was your fault too- you let his love burn and consume you. You were no better.

“I am violating the core of who I am in loving you,” the angel whispered in your ear, his hair tickling your cheekbone. “Do not take advantage of that… little bird.”

“Let me go,” you cupped his face, looking straight into his eyes, the name he called you finally giving you some clarity. “Let Seonghwa take over- please.”

“No,” he shook his head. “You can’t ask me to go now-”

“You’re hurting me,” you said and it was as if he could finally see the redness all over your skin. “Go, angel. Give me Seonghwa back.”

The angel’s eyes flickered with hurt, his eyes travelling all over the places that he burned you and it was as if he finally broke from his trance- he muttered a prayer and started peppering light kisses all over your face wherever his touch had burned you, his heart aching as he saw the fresh stream of tears roll down your face. Before he could do something about your neck or your hands, you drew away.

“Please, that’s enough for now,” you hardened your gaze. “We will talk later, when you are in your right mind. Let Seonghwa take over.”

“Oh, heavens above,” he sighed, ashamed of his actions and silently cursing himself. “I hurt you too much-”

“It’s-” you paused before you could finish saying the sentence.

It was not okay. You wouldn’t be telling him that it was okay to hurt you ever again.

Before you could say anything else, the angel groaned uncharacteristically and you watched as the shift happened, visible in the demeanour change, except-

Seonghwa took one look at you and almost lost his footing, struggling to stand as he clutched at the table. You reacted immediately, making him sit on a stool and asking him if he was alright, but he only held your hands with his own shaky ones and hid his face between them.

“Seonghwa?” Your voice came out in a small whisper- you had never seen him so weak. He wasn’t crying but he very well might have been with the way his body was trembling and he was breathing unsteadily.

“Talk to me, Seonghwa,” you urged, “What’s wrong?”

“I…” he sighed heavily, looking up at you with tired eyes, the rage obvious behind them. “I fought for consciousness the moment I heard you cry. Who hurt you?”

You.

“It’s the angel, isn’t it?” He examined your hands, trembling with the intensity of emotions that he was feeling- perhaps, a leftover product from the angel too. “He hurt you.”

“Seonghwa,” you sat down in front of him, on your knees. “I’m okay. It’s going to be okay-”

“It’s not,” he shook his head adamantly. “You have no idea how much I’m struggling to not let the angel swallow me whole- I’m scared to think of what would have happened if the angel lost all control just now.”

You silently shook at the thought and he caressed your hands before continuing.

“Sometimes, it feels like if he takes over my consciousness, I will get lost in the dark pits of my own subconscious forever. But now… I realise why  I’m sometimes hesitant to regain consciousness too. Because-”

He looked at your marred hands, caressing the burn marks on them lightly. “Do you know what I’m afraid of, y/n?”

You shook your head. “You’re afraid of nothing, as far as I know.”

Seonghwa smiled tiredly. “You’re right. I am afraid of nothing- I was afraid of nothing. But now… I’m afraid of seeing these burn marks on your skin whenever I wake up. How could you let him hurt you like this? You were supposed to be my warrior.”

“And you were supposed to be my shield,” you smiled sadly. “When you’re not there… I get burned.”

Seonghwa looked down, unable to meet your eyes. “This is what I’m afraid of. Hurting you and watching you love the very thing that hurts you. I’ve never been afraid of anything in my life but now… I’m afraid of losing you like this, y/n.”

Seonghwa. The most notorious mafia lord with no such thing as a ‘heart’ was afraid of losing you. Afraid of hurting you and seeing you hurt. Was this not what pure love was supposed to be, as opposed to your angel Hwa’s, who had better things to worry about?

You once asked the angel what he was scared of- other than the obvious. He talked about punishment. He was afraid of doing the very deeds that he would be sent to give punishment for. He was afraid of divine intervention- it was something that was scary to witness even as the audience. He was afraid of the future, of this world and its corrupt nature. 

And the angel was afraid of loving you only to lose you.

Was Seonghwa’s love for you not purer than the angel’s love, then? Seonghwa would go to hell and back for you. Seonghwa bowed down only in front of you- you, who were a part of him, a part of his soul, he would sometimes call you. 

The angel would only bow in front of god.

“You won’t lose me,” you promised though the words were of no comfort to both of you. Overcome by his emotions and some hard truths about what his future looked like, he brought your hands closer with his own shaky ones and pressed a promising kiss on both your hands. When you shifted to hold his hands instead and tried to make him look at you, he shut his eyes.

He could not look at you. Not now.

“Seonghwa,” you called, lifting yourself up a little so you could be at eye level. “Won’t you look at me?”

He only lowered his head further and you embraced him, sighing in relief when he shifted so he could hug you back properly. You let him come to terms with whatever he was feeling- he wasn’t going to talk about it but at least you could help him through it. You caressed his head without a fear of getting hurt for once, and he mustered up the courage to kiss you on the cheek.

You froze momentarily- Seonghwa rarely ever kissed you anywhere except the top of your head (that was his form of silently apologising). He nudged your cheek with the tip of his nose, his warm breath caressing your skin and you moved back slightly, making the mistake of looking him in the eyes-

You had asked for it, though. And now that he was looking at you, so close, you forgot how to breathe.

His hand went around the back of your neck, craning it so that he could make space for himself. He joined your foreheads, taking a deep breath.

“I won’t let the angel ever hurt you again. That’s a promise, okay?” He whispered and you nodded, your noses brushing against each other. He shut his eyes, brows furrowed in concentration as he deliberately nudged the tip of his nose with yours, your lips almost brushing in the process but the ghost of his lips remained on yours.

You whispered his name- a call, a plea, and he almost gave in, reminded of the memories of kissing you that he had seen flashes of from the angel’s memory- oh, how he wanted to kiss those lips himself. He felt a sharp pain in the head slice at him, a reprimand from the angel, a warning. Seonghwa brushed his lips against yours once again just to piss the angel off before drawing back with immense effort, kissing your forehead instead. 

Your figure sagged in disappointment, tired from the yearning. You rested your head in his lap and gave yourself a few moments to recollect your thoughts. 

You would not question Seonghwa and his actions anymore. You knew exactly what was happening. You knew what you had to do now.

There is always a moment in your life when it feels like you’ve had an awakening- as if all this time, you had been wearing the wrong pair of prescription glasses, or not wearing anything to help your blurred vision. So when you finally fix the problem, or realise what the root of all your troubles is, you start to see the world with a sudden clarity. Everything seems sharper, you can see the fine lines that you would otherwise have missed, and it’s like you have a new perspective to the world, even.

At least, that’s how you feel as you perch your reading glasses up your nose bridge, craning your neck to the right and flipping through the pages of a dark arts history book, recalling that you had read something in it which seemed to be connected to the current theory you were working on-

The theory being that angels were, in fact, worse liars than demons. Demons had a habit of being overtly honest- the only problem was that they were tricksters and spun their words such that it would be hard to unravel the truth from. Angels, however, were outright liars in the sense that they would conceal the truth and mislead you by not telling you the complete truth.

At least, that’s who Hwa was. 

You spent the first couple of days trying not to have a mental breakdown and asking both Hwa and Seonghwa to leave you alone while you figured out your feelings for them but more importantly- just how much the angel had misled you? Was there anything he said about the angelic essence and its experimentation that was the complete truth? So far, there had been no warning siren ringing to inform you of some divine punishment. The heavens had not fallen over your head. You were just fine, and you were pretty sure that your experimenting was enough of a marker for the other angels. Why was no divine being interfering then?

And just what was the truth about the angel not knowing how to leave this body? Was he not leaving on purpose, a selfish angel who simply wanted to experience what it was like to not be a warrior of god? Was he staying because of you? Did he really love you or was that just an excuse to stay back in this world and delay going back to his own?

Because he did love you- oh, how he loved you. His love threatened to consume you whole with the way he held you like you were fragile and would break under his touch, contrasting with the way his touch would sometimes burn you when he was overwhelmed. His kisses were overflowing with emotions, a pure exhibit of his desire while holding a dark, almost sinister undertone to them when he would grip you tightly as if forgetting you were human. His whispers contained promises in a foreign language that you did not need to interpret- his vows were clear in his eyes and his possessive hold. 

His love also threatened to break you in the way that a trapped bird was scared of stepping outside its cage for the first time. It was Hwa who made you experience what being normal would have felt like, were you not bound to Seonghwa and his drug business. You experienced so many of your firsts with Hwa and it was him who showed you what a normal life could have been like- you did so much with him that you could have never done with Seonghwa. Seonghwa had only given you limited freedom and while you did not hate that, you always wished to spread your wings and fly.

Maybe you flew too close to the sun. Perhaps, that’s why you were burning both from outside and from within. Maybe you were meant to love the moon but the moon liked to hide behind the clouds so you chose the next best thing. You had to fill the void in your heart somehow, and who better to fill it than a literal divine being that wore the skin of the man you had loved your whole life?

You were the only selfish one here, but selfishness had always been your greatest weapon and you would be sure to make use of it when the time would come. For now, you were coming to terms with how Hwa and Seonghwa were also selfish for their own reasons- Hwa, because he did not want to face the consequences of his actions and Seonghwa because he simply wanted to be free and whole again. He would probably kill you once he was- it didn’t feel like a bluff anymore. 

However, there was also another hard truth about all of this, and that was that Hwa would give you up in a second for ‘the greater good’ or whatever moral code he needed to satisfy in order to please God and his fellow angels and get back to his realm if caught. You wanted to tell him that as an angel, perhaps he had sinned too much and if he ever went back, they would probably clip his wings and turn him into a fallen angel. You wanted to claw at him and make him stay with you forever simply because you could. 

And the only reason you weren’t making him stay was because Seonghwa was the one who would burn down all of this world- the heavens above and hell below- for you. It might be out of love or out of a desire to prove that you were ultimately his, a dangerous obsession, but you were his priority. And you couldn’t help but wonder what things would have been like if he had kissed you that night in the lab and finally faced his feelings for you- though a part of you wondered if his feelings for you were partly because of the angel rubbing off on him.

So it was no wonder that you were losing your mind trying to put the feelings aside and work on finding a solution to this cursed turn of events. Now that you had an objective perspective (still arguable), you were realising that the divine punishment the angel was so afraid of might only be reserved for the angel himself. Perhaps, the human would be spared from it until it was their time to die and face judgement by their creator. It made sense because there were absolutely no instances of an angel summoning ever recorded.

Demons liked to be summoned, which was why there were countless records of it. Angels were summoned by force, though. You surely were not the first person in this world who had summoned an angel but you might make a difference if you recorded this summoning. That made you wonder- was it the recording part that was the problem or were the humans involved really wiped out if they interacted with angels?

If the latter was the case, you would have faced judgement a while ago- when you summoned the angel. Surely, other angels must have heard the call too. They would have intervened when their comrade got stuck inside a human or fell in love with one. Maybe the angels only interfered to make sure no traces were left of an angel summoning- that way, Hwa’s admission of the angelic essence leaving a trace and serving as a marker would be verified. 

Whatever it was, the matter was in your hands now. So far, you had a few ideas- that you could use the angelic essence to lure the angels and face judgement- whatever it was, however it would be delivered. Chances were that only Hwa would have to face the consequences and while it broke your heart, you were sure the angels would at least wipe your memories to ensure another incident like this does not happen again. If your memories were wiped, you would not remember Hwa. That was probably the most risky route you could pick considering the angels could just kill you and Seonghwa and move on. You did not want to die just yet- at least not for Hwa. 

Another idea was to try and attempt a reverse summoning ritual, which was a very theoretical concept with no specific details and no attempts recorded. For that, you needed an anchor in the realm that the being concerned was from, and you had no such anchor. Again, you could not risk involving another angel. 

If you were the only one who could put an end to this, your resources were very limited. All you had was your drugs and your lab and-

Your train of thoughts was interrupted by a soft knock on the door and the door opened to reveal Seonghwa- as soon as you met the man’s curious eyes, you knew it was Hwa instead. 

“You’ve been holed up in here for hours now,” his concerned voice said. “Come on, let’s get some fresh air.”

“Ahh, but I think I was almost there,” you straightened your back and stretched your arms, producing cracks. “Or not. Nothing makes sense.”

“That’s okay,” Hwa smiled. “Maybe some fresh air and a meal will help. When you get too focused on something, it’s good to reel back and change your environment.”

“You’re right, actually,” you got up, shutting your devices but letting the books and notes stay as they were. “I’ll join you after I freshen up.”

“Great- wear a coat. We’ll go eat something outside.”

“Someone is in a good mood today,” you eyed the angel with suspicion but he only raised his hands in the air, pressing his lips in a tight line.

“You know I’m still making it up to you. After what I did- I still feel ashamed.”

You frowned at that- you knew the angel was making an effort to be better. He had apologised until you got sick of it and warned him not to. He resorted to giving you space when you wanted but also trying to make you feel better- asking you before he touched you in any way, making sure you ate your meals and weren’t pushing yourself too hard. He could finally understand why you wanted him and Seonghwa to be two separate entities and for once, he was cooperating.

Another change you had noticed was that Hwa was starting to sound a lot like Seonghwa- in his speech, and often in his mannerism. It was unnerving but you were holding yourself back from complaining, focusing all your energy on finding the answer to this.

But for now, you supposed you could take a breather. You slipped on a black overcoat over your sweats and joined Hwa in the garage, deciding to get some ramen from the convenience store. You fell in step with him, walking down the dark streets of your posh society, lit by the full moon and the streetlights, and talking about what you had learned so far- specifically about demons. He was always willing to verify your facts on that subject.

On the way back, when he offered you his hand, you smiled and took it and he proceeded to tuck your hands in his pocket, making you shake your head. 

“Have you been watching dramas, Hwa?”

“I was bored,” he went as far as to pout. “Those dramas are interesting. I’m learning a lot.”

“No wonder. You’ve been speaking casually,” you pointed out and he frowned.

“Have I?”

“Yeah, you sound like Seonghwa when he’s in a good mood,” you joked and he scoffed.

“I shall go back to the formal tone then. Perhaps you like that more?” 

“I don’t mind either way,” you grinned. “Your formal tone makes you sound a little pompous, if I’m honest.”

“Noted,” he nodded in all seriousness and you squeezed his hand as you chuckled. He glanced at you with curiosity to voice a question that had been on the tip of his tongue all along, “Did you find something worthwhile today?”

You glanced back at him, gauging his expressions. “Not really. It’s too risky if we get a third party involved, whether it's another angel or humans.”

You didn’t miss how his shoulders slightly relaxed as if he had been tense all this time. He looked up at the sky, taking a deep breath. “If you want me to help, all you have to do is ask.”

“I know,” you swallowed the bitterness his words left in your mouth and covered it with a grateful smile- the trust he had broken in admitting that he had, in fact, lied to you had still not mended. You weren’t going to show a hint of doubt because you were scared of what Hwa would do once he learned that you were willing to let him go- even if that meant letting him go forever.

So for good measure, you stood on your tiptoes to peck his cheek, trying not to break into a grin when he let out a flustered sound. He quickly recovered from it and took it as his cue to wrap his arms around your waist and bring you in for a kiss, sweet and sure. 

That was the easiest way to assure the angel that you weren’t planning something devious. There was an itch in your brain and you wanted to talk to Seonghwa before you would ever dare to attempt it. However, before that, you had to make sure the angel felt loved and safe with you- only then would he allow you to have some privacy with Seonghwa.

So you were glad the angel was still holding some guilt in his heart that was preventing him from having a heated session with you. You would rub it in his face by appearing scared or hesitant, sometimes succumbing to your own desires but keeping it restrained nonetheless- just like tonight. You had observed how the angel was especially demanding whenever you were researching on how to get Seonghwa back to normal. 

Even now, as soon as you were back in your room, he was bringing your body flush to his to kiss you deeply. You had to admit that Hwa still made your knees weak and made you give in instantly, especially the way he was taking special care to not let you burn anymore. It still happened sometimes, but not like that night in the lab when he had lost control.

And it was ironically the angel’s glowing eyes that led you to your answer, a wave of understanding washing over you as the dots started to connect in your head. You zoned out as the angel finished healing your burns, his eyes going back to normal as he caught your gaze and raised his brow in question to your surprised expressions.

“Everything good?” He asked, caressing your cheek.

“Perfect,” you smiled, hoping it didn’t look like a smirk. “Everything is perfect.”

The angel patted your cheek, checking the time. “I should let Seonghwa take over soon. If you need me, I’ll be here, okay?”

“Of course,” you assured him. “I’m just gonna wrap this up and get some sleep. I think the lack of sleep is not helping me find answers.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying all along,” Hwa laughed and you played along until he left the room. Finally realising what Archimedes must have felt when he had his own eureka moment, you rushed towards your notes- not the research material, not the history and dark arts books but your notes from the lab placed safely in a locker. 

It could work. Dr. Choi had already unintentionally worked out the logistics of it and was writing a paper on it while he worked to make his research stronger. He was thinking of possible titles and had been rambling about how he wanted to include the phrase ‘angels vs demons’ in it. You were surprised it didn’t click earlier.

You needed to tell Seonghwa- if he was willing to try it, you would reach out to Dr. Choi and work with him. 

You collected yourself and went to Seonghwa’s room, standing outside with your heart pounding uncharacteristically, about to knock when he opened the door, sucking in a breath when he found you right in front of him. 

“I was going to come to your room,” he scanned your face, frowning at the sombreness in your eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s you, right? Seonghwa?” You asked cautiously and Seonghwa nodded thrice- a code to let you know that the angel was nowhere near. He let you inside and you shut the door, facing him.

“I think I’ve found the answer,” you told him in a whisper. “But it’s risky, and I’m scared to try it.”

Seonghwa rubbed his face, tiredness evident in the way his shoulders seemed to be slouching. His hand settled on his neck over the tattoo that was visible from the black pyjamas. “Every method is risky. What do you feel about this?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “It could work. It’s scientific this time, I’ll tell you,” you shared a cryptic look and he understood. “No third party involved.”

“Has the time finally come?” Seonghwa joked with a faint smile on his lips. “You always said you would love to make me a lab rat one day.”

Your lips quirked in amusement and you looked sideways. “Didn’t imagine it would be this serious. I imagined it to be a prank or something. Old me would be ecstatic to learn that I get to tie you to my stretcher.”

“How kinky,” he scoffed and you shot him a glare- this was serious for you and you knew he was trying to keep the mood light for you. 

A moment of silence later, he asked, “What do I need to do?”

You leaned against the door, your hands tucked between your back and the door. Oh, how you wished you could hold him and tell him exactly what he needed to do. How you wished you could turn back time so you were back at the office insisting Seonghwa let you try angel summoning, only this time he tells you off. It was funny how meeting Hwa, the angel, was both something you never wanted to forget and something you wished you had never experienced.

It made your yearning for Seonghwa so much stronger. Perhaps, Seonghwa could feel it in the air- the words you refused to say, the actions you refused to make.  

“Say something, y/n,” he furrowed his brows much like the angel yet so different, demanding. True to Seonghwa’s nature. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Does it bother you when I look at you like that?” You asked. 

There was a feeling in your gut, strange but so very familiar. Impending doom. A sign that you might never get a moment like this again. You always trust your gut, but actually listening to it was a different subject. No wonder you were here right now.

“Don’t avoid my question,” Seonghwa folded his arms but you shook your head, waiting for an answer anyway. Seonghwa took a deep breath, the small distance between your figures not helping with the lack of clarity in his head. 

“Answer my question and I’ll answer yours,” you repeated a phrase you had often used on him, shooting a teasing smile in his direction before letting your eyes wander around the room- anywhere away from his eyes.

“Does it bother me when you look at me like that?” Seonghwa repeated your question, grabbing your attention. “Of course it does. You look at the angel like that-”

“I’ve only ever looked at you like that, Seonghwa,” you sighed heavily. “You were just too blind to notice until you watched me from someone else’s eyes.”

Seonghwa’s heart did break at your admission. 

Having to cohabitate with another being- an angel, specifically, had made him realise quite a few things. In the beginning, it was along the lines of how he never wanted to be a ‘good’ person if the angel was the example of that. The angel was dark at its core, though it wasn’t the type of dark people used to describe humans. It was different- otherworldly and all-consuming. The angel was fighting his own demons, and Seonghwa was fine embracing his demons instead.

However, as time passed, his heart softened despite himself. It would be an excuse to say that the angel had rubbed off on him- his perspective had simply shifted because he saw you and the world from an almost omniscient point of view. While his values had not changed, he had learned the value of the people who cared for him- especially you, who always stuck with him even when he did his worst. He didn’t care if it was simply an obsession anymore- he had seen what obsession looked like through Hwa’s eyes.

Your feelings for him, and his for yours… it was something the angel could never have and Seonghwa was fucking glad about it. He may have let the angel stop him from confessing his love multiple times but if this was the last time he was going to hold you close… he would risk angering the angel. 

“Answer my question,” Seonghwa asked, his voice uncharacteristically wavering. You smiled sadly.

“All you need to do, Seonghwa, is promise that you will try to fight and that you will win. That you will stay- for yourself, for the empire you have built… for the sacrifices you made and the people you lost on the way,” you paused, your gaze falling on his tattoo. “And for me. Because I’m your weapon and you are my shield, and I cannot navigate this world without your protection.”

“I thought you hated how protective I was,” Seonghwa’s lips started curling into a smile, his eyes twinkling with energy as he stepped closer. “I made you a warrior, y/n. If anything happens to me, I trust you to continue my legacy-”

“You made me a warrior, Seonghwa, but I’m tired of this battle,” you declared, an angry streak in your voice. “Nothing will happen to you. I- I will make sure of that. You just have to stay strong and fight.”

“Even if I’m afraid of the unknown?” Seonghwa inquired, placing his hands on your shoulders and caressing the bare skin of your neck.

“The Seonghwa I love isn’t afraid of the unknown,” you reminded him and he locked eyes with you. “He’s afraid of… what was it? Hurting me? Watching me love what hurts me-”

“Sweetheart,” Seonghwa warned, shaking his head but you laughed out loud, curling your hands around his wrists and holding his hands like he had held yours at the lab.

“Seeing burn marks on my hands?” You teased. “How sweet. Afraid of losing me- how romantic, Park Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa glared at you, clenching and unclenching his jaw. “Kind of regret saying that. If I had known you would hold that over me-”

“I’m holding that over you,” you gently interjected, “so you know that you won’t have to be afraid of anything when you come back.”

Seonghwa looked down at your linked hands, taking a few deep breaths and nodding slowly not only because you were right but also because he had learnt another lesson- that it was okay to love someone. Loving someone didn’t always result in losing them. After his friend Hongjoong’s death, he had grown so cold towards you, pushing you and his feelings for you away, tucking them in the deepest corner of his heart. He was lucky you never gave up on him and made him realise that loving someone wasn’t a weakness but a strength.

A reason for him to fight back against the angel. A real reason, not the materialistic ones- he could build an empire again if he had to, but he could not risk losing you. 

“You’re the worst thing that has ever happened to me,” Seonghwa looked at you, watching your lips curl into a smirk. “You devil.”

“Yeah, well,” you took one step closer, looking up at him, daring him to say more. “You’re still here, so.”

Seonghwa stared at you challengingly, a smirk growing on his own lips as he crowded your personal space until your back was against the door. You didn’t shy away, the tension in the air so thick you could feel it caressing your skin along with Seonghwa’s fingers that danced against your collarbone, travelling up the slope of your neck to swipe at your parted lips, his gaze stuck right there. 

“Don’t you ever get enough?” He finally asked what had been bothering him the most. How could you use him to satisfy yourself? Sure, maybe you liked the angel, but he would bet his life that it wasn’t the only reason. 

“It isn’t you,” you simply answered. “It’s so different. I thought it’d be the same, but by then, it was too late, and now-”

Seonghwa put a finger on your lips to shush you- even though the angel was still dormant, he already knew what you were going to say.

And when you puckered your lips against his finger to kiss it, he wished the angel would die and never come back. He leaned in hurriedly, stopping right as your noses brushed, eliciting a gasp from your mouth. 

“When are you doing it?” He asked, referring to your plan.

“Tonight,” you whispered in response, joining your foreheads and nudging his nose affectionately. “I can’t risk him finding out. Keep him at bay tonight, please.”

“If I don’t lose my mind,” Seonghwa whispered, brushing his lips against yours and tightening his grip around your waist. Craning your neck, he brought you in for the long overdue kiss, soft but strong, making your legs go weak and your arms go around his shoulders for support. He drew back to drink your expressions before diving right back in, this time unhurried but demanding, groaning with pleasure in between. When his tongue swiped your lips, you gladly opened your mouth for him, losing yourself in the overwhelming feelings of the love of your life finally caving in to you.

Not once did the angel cross your mind- not when Seonghwa kissed you softly, not when he held you like you would break, and certainly not when he let his desire fuel him as things heated up. You were soon shifted to the bed, Seonghwa promising you that he would make the most of tonight, apologising (for once) for not doing this earlier, holding on to your word when you assured him that you would somehow make this work and set him free. 

You let his touch burn you in a way the angel’s had never- searing passion as opposed to a warning. You let your hands run through his hair without a worry, and let his hair tickle your bare skin as he shed the clothes off you. You let him obsess over you and lose control without the fear of getting hurt- yes, Seonghwa could hurt you in ways no one could but he would never hurt you like the angel had. Seonghwa let his desperation and emotions get the better of him tonight, feeling a sense of relief when he was finally one with you.

And only when you spotted the rays of the sun peak through the curtains, having spent all night in his arms, did you move away from his half asleep body to grab something. He peeked up and you smiled, snuggling into his body once again and sharing one last kiss, whispering confessions to each other. You hugged him after, letting your breathing synchronise with his and memorising the feeling.

And then you injected the tranquilliser into his neck, whispering sweet nothings and peppering kisses on his skin until he lost consciousness.

You had been with Seonghwa in the restricted section in the basement of your lab a few times. 

Most of the time, he turned up there because he could not reach you- you had a habit of forgetting that time was an actual flowing thing and it did not stop still when you were in a certain headspace- which was experimenting with live subjects. He would watch you from the window, shaking his head at the monster he had created while his heart would simultaneously swell with pride. He would wait until you took a breather and knock on the window to get your attention.

A few times, you brought him to that section yourself, updating him on your progress. One thing you liked about Seonghwa was that he may not be the brains behind your drug production but he was fully involved in it, making note of whatever you needed and making sure you were safe here. He liked to be aware of whatever was going on as well.

However, never did you imagine that he would be your next test subject, tied to the stretcher and looking paler in the harsh white lights that lit up the room. He lay unconscious while you monitored his vitals and made sure the demonic essence being administered to him was not overpowering or harmful in any way other than expelling the angel. 

You had a theory that the demonic essence could cancel every ‘impurity’ in the body to dominate as the only ‘impure’ or foreign object in the host. While working on this theory with Dr. Choi a few months ago, before you had ever summoned the angel, you had conducted an autopsy on your test subjects who had died because of the demonic drug. You noted that some of them who had underlying conditions and defects prior to overdose no longer had any defects in their body after death. It was as if the demonic drug had ‘healed’ them first before taking the spot for the sole cause of their death. A true parasitic drug, fighting for dominance to take over its host.

And if it were a demon against an angel… who would win? 

You were hoping that the angel would be expelled from Seonghwa’s body, which would be the best outcome. You would quickly have to inject the angelic essence in Seonghwa’s body at that point to cancel the demonic essence- Dr. Choi and you had worked on it when you put Seonghwa in a comatose state, testing what amount of angelic essence was required to cancel out the demonic one.

In the worst case scenario though, one of them- or both- would die. According to Seonghwa, the angel was already eating away at his soul and it was a struggle for him to continue cohabitating in one body. The angel was powerful and stubborn. It wouldn’t give up so easily, so you would just have to pray that your plan would work and end well for all of you. This was your last and only resort. 

Seonghwa’s body had started shaking a while ago, presumably when the battle between the angel and the demon began. You were constantly wiping sweat from his body and adjusting the drip, sometimes giving in and squeezing his hand as if to assure both Seonghwa and Hwa that you were here and that you were sorry for doing this to them. As more time passed, his body started to tremble fiercely and you tightened the clasps on his wrists and arms, not sure if they would be able to withhold. 

With the damned book that brought the angel to your world resting against Seonghwa’s chest and the holy sword in one hand- tip soaked in wine but not ablaze- you started reading the section of the scripture that contained the angel’s name, Seonghwa’s eyes fluttering open when you repeated it for the third time.

“Hwa?” You asked cautiously, glancing at Dr. Choi who stood near you with the angelic essence vial in one hand and a lighter in the other. You squeezed his limp hand, making him look at you.

“Why did you call me?” He asked, tone as sombre as the first day he saw you. “What are you doing- what is happening?”

“You have to leave this body, angel,” you wiped the tear that rolled down his face. “Go back to your realm for now- just leave-”

You paused when he squeezed his eyes shut, your words eliciting a deep, pained groan out of his mouth. Dr. Choi recognised your signal and set the tip of the sword on fire and the two of you held its hilt, hoping the angel would not possess one of you if it exited the body. You checked the monitor- Seonghwa’s vitals were starting to drop which meant the demonic essence must be working with full force on his body now.

You took the angelic essence vial from the doctor and clutched it in your fist, moving to whisper in Seonghwa’s ear, calling Seonghwa’s name and reminding him of his promise- you have to come back. You have to fight back- you are my shield and I am your weapon, and I am fighting for you. I cannot navigate this world without your protection.

You did not know if it was Seonghwa or Hwa who turned his face so his lips met your cheeks, a confession and a promise tumbling from his mouth. You looked up to meet his eyes but he shut them and fell still. 

Muttering a prayer to any deity who was listening, you poured the contents of the vial in Seonghwa’s mouth, Dr. Choi’s hand on your shoulder squeezing it reassuringly. The sound of your sniffles and the crackling of fire was the only sound in the room for a few minutes before Seonghwa sucked in a sharp breath and his eyes opened- unglowing. 

“Seonghwa,” you breathed, holding your breath as you handed the sword to Dr. Choi and moved to cup his face, checking the vitals on the monitor before turning your full attention to him. He was already looking at you with a dazed look and you locked eyes with him, waiting for his touch to burn you as you caressed his hair, but nothing happened.

You were okay.

“Seonghwa?” You asked cautiously again. “It’s you, right? Tell me it’s you, please.”

Seonghwa gulped, his mouth awfully dry but he managed to move his head in a nod and the wave of exhaustion finally caught up to you, making your legs go weak as you slumped against his body, resting your head on his chest to catch your breath. Dr. Choi moved around and did the work, untying Seonghwa’s limbs and making sure he was responsive, taking some bloodwork and checking to see if there was anything amiss.

“There are still remainders of both the demonic essence and angelic essence in his body,” he said as he observed the blood. “But I think we’ve done what we could have. It will take a while for him to recover so we can continue to monitor him-”

“I’m fine,” Seonghwa insisted and you stifled a grin, looking up at him. “I’m done being the lab rat.”

Dr. Choi smiled. “Welcome back, Sir.”

Seonghwa shot a glare in his direction as he shifted into a sitting position, ignoring his chuckles and looking at you.

“What did you do?”

“Tried to expel the angel out of your body,” you linked your hands and he squeezed them. “It’s… happened, right? Can you feel him anywhere?”

“Not really,” he scratched the back of his neck, thinking. “This could have gone wrong.”

“Obviously. It could have gone very wrong,” you shuddered at the thought. “But I had to take a chance. Hwa was taking over your consciousness with each passing day, and as much as I loved the angel, I couldn’t let him do that to you.”

Seonghwa regarded your expressions, nodding. “And what if the angel ended up taking over?”

You pursed your lips and shrugged. “I think he would have probably killed me for hiding everything from him. I was prepared for that too-” you looked at your side where the sword now stood in the bucket, the fire doused. 

“Anyways, the important thing is that you’re back, Seonghwa,” you smiled wholeheartedly. “Let’s get you out of here.”

Seonghwa smiled back though it didn’t quite meet his eyes. He kissed the back of your hand before letting you go, watching your body move with a newfound energy as you wrapped up everything in the lab, asking Dr. Choi to get some rest as well. 

Once back at home, having washed up and eaten a hearty meal, you took Seonghwa to his room and held his hands, locking eyes with him. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” You asked, scanning his face.

“Just tired, and you know how there’s still the after effects,” Seonghwa muttered, sighing. “I’ll be fine.”

“If you’re angry at me, now is the time to take it out,” you teased. “Though you knew very well what you were getting into.”

“I’m not,” he scoffed, amused. “Well, I am but not because of this,” he corrected. “But I think I’ve learned to let the anger go now. There’s a reason for everything that happens, and for the decisions we make.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Looks like Hwa’s still inside you.”

“What?”

“There’s no way you said that,” you teased, “You don’t compromise to understand other people- you do what you want.”

“Yeah, well,” Seonghwa shrugged. “The angel must have rubbed off on me.”

You smiled and Seonghwa noted the weariness in your eyes. “Will you… miss the angel?”

“I will… of course I will,” you admitted, looking sideways. “I just hope he’s okay. Can you tell what happened to him? Did he get out or… did he get hurt?”

“He got hurt,” Seonghwa confirmed and you pressed your lips, taking a deep breath to keep the tears at bay. “I don’t think he made it, y/n. I can’t tell for sure right now, but it’s not looking good.”

You nodded, squeezing his hands and he moved to embrace you. There were no tears left to cry. You simply clutched onto him and let him calm you down. He let go with a kiss to your forehead.

“Everything will be okay,” he promised and you nodded.

Everything was going to be okay.

“Love, can you hand me the cinnamon powder?” Seonghwa asked, far too focused on the plating of his latest creation even though you were going to devour it in seconds. You told him exactly that as he sprinkled some on the pancakes, making sure the strawberries were set before drizzling chocolate over them. 

“Perfect,” his eyes twinkled with the sort of gleam you used to see only when he was about to take someone’s life.

How the tables had turned.

“It’s just breakfast, Seonghwa, it doesn’t have to be that serious-”

“Shh,” he waved a hand in dismissal. “We need a good meal to be in good spirits. And then we can go and shed some blood- Assemblyman Hwang should not have used street gangs to try to expose our network.”

You shook your head, agreeing, but still amused as you watched him pour the freshly blended fruit juice into your glasses.

“Now eat,” he ordered and you bowed mockingly with a ‘yessir’ before you dived in.

The angel had definitely rubbed off on Seonghwa, because there was no other explanation to this. Soon after Seonghwa recovered, he was back to business, making new deals and expanding his network further as if he had some newfound energy- or perhaps, he was making up for the lost time. Whatever it was, you wouldn’t be complaining- you were simply glad that he was back. 

Though he was a bit different. Gentler, yet still very Seonghwa with his demanding personality. He also picked up cooking, reminding you of your teenage days when he used to make whatever he could with whatever you had at disposal. He was always creative with his meals, but now, his creative freedom was almost surprising. 

Park Seonghwa was back, but a changed man. Still insanely evil at the very core, still driven by his blood thirst and hunger for power. Maybe he had changed only where it concerned you- more welcoming towards you, more understanding of your actions, and so, so loving. His love was as gentle as the angel at times, and as fierce as Seonghwa’s devotion. Sometimes, you were reminded of Hwa- it was a given when they had worn the same skin. 

But your Seonghwa was still very human. And that was all that mattered. His love did not burn you and he did not fear anyone. 

You finished your meals and went to get ready to go out with him- he was letting you accompany him to his ‘little outings’ more and though he wasn’t getting his hands dirty most of the time, the lackeys doing that for him, he still liked going out in the field himself every once in a while. Today was one of those days and you went to your own room to arm yourself.

Seonghwa got ready first, waiting for you in the lobby, staring at the holy sword that was now a showpiece, perched on one of the walls. He felt almost compelled to trace the hilt of the sword, daring to touch the blade that was capable of harming angels, and with a little shriek he drew his hand back, the tips of his fingers an angry red, burned by the sword.

Seonghwa cursed under his breath, moving to the kitchen for some privacy before muttering the prayer he had said for aeons now, allowing his fingertips to heal. He caught his reflection on the glossy material of the fridge, his pupils glowing and he shut them, taking a few deep breaths to get his powers under control.

He heard the faint thumps of your footsteps as you came downstairs and he fixed his posture and his expressions to mimic Seonghwa before he stepped out of the kitchen, nodding in approval when you showed him your weapons before following you outside. 

He let you call you by the name of the human that he was not, and he willingly played along, letting you think that your beloved human had defeated the angel when that was not the case at all. Your beloved human was gone.

Good and evil must coexist in order to survive. But sometimes, the good becomes the evil and the evil becomes the good- they were never meant to balance each other. 

It was only a matter of which one would weigh more and tip the scale in its favour.

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗡𝗢𝗧 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗢𝗡𝗘 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗬𝗢𝗨

　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: In a seemingly perfect relationship, Y/N and Matt face a silent storm when Y/N, after appearing in a video on Matt's personal channel, is the target of cruel comments that leave her feeling inadequate. Unable to share her insecurities, Y/N distance herself from Matt, wallowing in self-criticism and painful comparisons, until he snaps.

WARNING: Crying, insecurities, comparison, yelling, fighting.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Y/N felt the weight of the world on her shoulders as she tried to navigate the dark mazes of her mind. Since she appeared in the last video on Matt's personal channel, everything had changed. The acidic words of the "fans' comments burned in her memory, leaving deep marks.

It was a vlog-type video, where the couple was spending the day walking through parks, going to museums and strolling through the mall, but comments like "She's not good enough for him", "Matt deserves someone better" and "The other YouTubers' girlfriends are better than this" filled the comments box and echoed in her mind constantly.

What was once a stable and loving relationship now turned into a minefield of insecurities.

Y/N began to see herself through the distorted lens of the comments. She endlessly compared herself to other women on social media – the influencers with flawless skin, sculpted bodies, and perfect smiles. Each comparison only served to erode her self-esteem even more. She wondered what Matt saw in her and if, perhaps, those people were right.

This whirlwind of insecurities made her distance herself from Matt. She avoided dates, responded to his texts in a short and evasive way, and when they were together, her mind was always distant, immersed in thoughts of inadequacy. Matt, in turn, noticed the change but didn't understand the depth of what was happening.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The morning after the video came out, Y/N and Matt sat down at the kitchen table for breakfast. The aroma of fresh coffee filled the kitchen, along with the random sounds of Nick and Chris echoing through the house, but the silence between the couple was deafening. Matt was engrossed in his phone, responding to emails and interacting with his followers.

Y/N, on the other hand, could barely look at him. The words of the comments were eating her up inside.

"Good morning, baby." Matt murmured when noticing her presence long minutes after she had entered the room without taking his eyes off the screen.

"Good morning." Y/N responded, trying to hide the anguish in her voice, her teeth gripping her bottom lip in a death grip, restraining herself from saying anything else.

She stirred the stainless steel spoon inside the white bowl full of cereal, without appetite. Her mind returned to the nasty comments, each word a knife in her heart. She felt inadequate and inferior.

Her eyes occasionally glanced at Matt, who looked so happy and self-assured, and wondered how he could love her when so many people thought she wasn't good enough. When he had thousands of better options than her.

"Do you wanna go to the mall today?" Matt asked, looking up from his phone in confusion seconds after, noticing the unusual silence. "Hey, are you okay?"

"Hm? Oh, yes, I am." Y/N lied quickly, nodding her head and forcing a smile. "I just didn't sleep well. Maybe I should stay home today." She shrugged, maintaining eye contact.

Matt accepted the answer without question, returning his attention to the phone a few seconds later. For Y/N, it was a momentary relief, but the pain was still latent, pulsing.

How had he not noticed the sea of ​​pain in her eyes?

Maybe he didn't care anymore.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

A few weeks later, Matt decided to take Y/N out to dinner at a restaurant they both loved. He wanted to cheer her up, realizing that she had been distant the last few days. However, Y/N could not escape the mental prison she had constructed.

As they sat, Matt excitedly talked about his new ideas for the Sturniolo Triplets channel and how excited he was to be able to vlog and stream again. Y/N tried to pay attention, nodding her head and keeping her eyes fixed on the boy's face, but her mind wandered to the words that seemed etched into the walls of her mind.

Her orbs momentarily strayed to the tables around hers, noticing other couples made up of beautiful women.

They looked beautiful, confident, and charismatic.

And she felt small and insignificant.

"Did you hear what I said?" Matt asked suddenly with a slight tone of frustration, his brow furrowed and his posture rigid.

"Sorry, I was distracted." Y/N quickly responded, feeling embarrassed, her hands clasped together above her thighs, squeezing her fingers in an act of nervousness.

"You've been so distant lately. What's going on?"

Y/N wanted to spill it all, tell him about the comments, about how inadequate she felt, but the words wouldn't come out. She was afraid Matt would confirm her insecurities.

"Nothing, I'm just tired. Work has been taking a toll on me." The girl lied, avoiding the blue eyes that stared deeply at her.

Matt sighed, clearly worried and annoyed, but accepted the apology.

Dinner continued, but the atmosphere was tense and heavy. For Y/N, every moment was a fight against tears and despair.

He would get tired of her.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

A small launch event for one of the Space Camp lines. It was a momentous occasion, and the triplets were excited to take a new, longer step in their Internet career.

Y/N wore her best dress with the best heels and the best makeup, trying to look confident, but inside, she was in pieces.

During the event, Matt was surrounded by people, laughing and talking, interacting with his closest friends, and explaining his role within his brother's brand.

Meanwhile, Y/N felt like a ghost, invisible. Every time someone looked at her, she felt like they were judging her, comparing herself o other women present.

At some point, while Matt was busy chatting with some important guests, Y/N heard two women commenting nearby.

"She's Matt's girlfriend? Wow, she doesn't seem like anything special."

"He could get someone so much better."

The words were like stabs. Y/N felt the ground disappear beneath her feet, and all the air escaped her lungs, her heart freezing.

She needed to get out of there.

The girl quickly walked towards the nearest bathroom and locked herself in a stall, tears streaming down her face, completely ruining the makeup she spent hours doing.

She felt like an impostor, a farce.

When she returned to the event about twenty minutes later, Matt noticed her red eyes and lack of makeup almost instantly, excusing himself from those he was talking to and walking towards her with quick steps.

"Babe, hey, what happened?" Matt asked in a low tone as he approached, worried.

"Nothing, just something got in my eye, I had to take off some makeup to get it out." She lied once again. She was getting good at it. Too good.

Matt looked suspicious but didn't insist, nodding slowly.

Upon arriving home that night, Y/N lay down on the bed next to Matt, the duvet covering half of her body. Matt quickly fell asleep, exhausted from the event, seeming to not have the strength to try to talk to his girlfriend or the will.

Y/N lay awake, staring at the ceiling, thoughts racing a mile a minute.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The culmination of everything happened when Matt decided to share with Y/N ​​a new idea for the channel, something he was really excited about. He had spent weeks planning the boys trip with his brothers and Nate, along with how they would record everything, turning the precious moments into a long vlog, so sharing the finished idea with his girlfriend was a crucial moment for him.

Y/N sat next to him on the large sofa in the living room, curling up on the gray upholstery and trying to focus on the excited words coming out of Matt's mouth, not even giving herself the luxury of feeling surprised at how quickly he spoke - different from his usual self, her mind being far away.

"So what do you think?" Matt asked after finishing his line of reasoning, his eyes fixed on Y/N's face expectantly, waiting for a reaction.

"Ah yes, that sounds good." The girl nodded briefly, smiling slightly, her eyes with a distracted gaze.

Matt frowned, noticing her lack of enthusiasm.

"You didn't even hear what I said, did you?"

"Sorry, I'm just... distracted." She cleared her throat, looking down at her crossed legs.

"I can't handle it anymore." Matt muttered in a low tone, taking a deep breath as his expression closed completely, one of fury taking the place of confusion, standing up abruptly and starting to walk between the television and the sofa in an attempt to calm himself down. "You've been acting so strange, so distant. I feel like I'm talking to a wall all the time. What's happening to you? Where's the bubbly Y/N I used to know?"

Y/N remained silent, tears already beginning to well up in her eyes as she looked at him through her wet lashes, silently begging him to stop, but Matt continued, his voice rising with each word.

"I'm tired, Y/N. Tired of being ignored, tired of trying to figure out what the hell you want. I feel like I'm carrying this relationship alone! You act like you don't care. Do you even care anymore? Because, honestly, it doesn't seem like it, and with each passing day, I become more discouraged with you."

He stopped his steps, breathing heavily, his eyes now fixed on Y/N, waiting for a response. When she finally looked up, her vision was blurred by the tears that were now running freely down her face.

"Matt, I... I'm so sorry." She began, her voice shaky and weak and her throat burning from the force she was trying to stop the sobs. "I didn't mean to make you feel this way. I'm just going through a hard time now-"

"Hard time? This has been going on for weeks! I don't know what else to do to reach you." The brunette suddenly interrupted her, his frustration boiling over. "You refuse to tell me what's going on, and I'm tired of being ignored."

"You don't understand..." Y/N felt a wave of despair take over her heart, shaking her head repeatedly.

"Then make me understand! I can't go on like this, Y/N." The boy ordered with tears in his eyes, his right hand flying to his own hair, ruffling it roughly in an act of nervousness. "Maybe we're not ideal together. Maybe you're not the right person for me!" The words escaped as quickly as his mind could process.

Y/N felt her heart stop for a few seconds, her skin freezing as her throat closed before a loud, ugly sob shot through her like lightning, escaping her lips intensely. Every cruel comment, every insecurity, everything accumulated in her mind at that moment, confirming her worst fears.

"They were right," she thought, "I'm not the one for him."

All she wanted to do most at that moment was run out of that house and away from him, but with the storm outside, her not knowing how to drive and the late hour prevented her from making any hasty decisions, after all, she had nowhere to go. That was her home, or it was meant to be.

Meanwhile, Matt closed his mouth almost instantly, his eyes widening as his mind seemed to process the words he had spilled, feeling the impact of them, his heart aching as if a hand was crushing it hard as he watched the girl he loved breaking down in front of him.

"I didn't mean that, baby. I-I'm so sorry. Oh my-" His words were interrupted by his own sob before his now weak legs began tentative steps towards Y/N, afraid of her reaction.

But Y/N couldn't do anything but cry, her body shaking violently with the strong sobs that escaped her mouth, clawing at the walls of her throat, her face already swollen and wet with the intense tears that fell without stopping.

"N-no, you're right. I'm a fraud. I'll never be good enough for you. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry for m-making you loose time with me, I'm so sorry! M- Matty, I-I'm sorry-" That was all her mind could process: apologies. Her hands tightened into fists above her thighs, her long nails digging into her palms, drawing blood and hurting the sensitive skin.

"Baby, please, breathe, you're going to hurt yourself if you keep crying like that. Breath, hm? Please." Matt sat down next to her, his left hand pressing against his own eyes roughly, trying to shake away the tears that flooded his blue orbs, while his right hand flew to Y/N's ones, trying to slowly undo the knots of fingers she had created.

"The comments on your channel... about me. Saying that I'm not good enough for you, that you deserve someone better." Y/N began to say again between sobs, pulling in choppy air between one word and another. "I can't stop thinking about it, comparing myself to other women, and the worst of it all? They are all right! I couldn't bear the thought of being close to you and making you look ugly with me, o-or dislocated... so I distanced myself." Y/N's hands that were surrounded by his right one clenched tighter against each other, her skin taking on a reddish tone due to the strength she exerted in her grip, feeling her wrist and arms shaking with nervousness and anxiety.

"I don't-" Matt shook his head, sniffling and blinking repeatedly in an attempt to stop the tears. "I had no idea. I'm sorry for not having noticed, for not having noticed the signs in your way of acting and trying to understand, I'm sorry for acting on impulse and blaming you, love. I'm sorry for having said those horrible things, I'm so sorry, lovey. Why didn't you tell me?" His blue eyes, which looked at her with attention and closeness, carried immense pain for seeing her in such a state and knowing that it was his own fault.

"I just… I didn't know how to tell you. I was afraid that you would agree with them, that you would realize that I really wasn't the right woman for you, and that you would leave me." Y/N choked back a sob, sniffling repeatedly, trying her best to stop her crying, looking up at him as she felt his hand squeeze hers tightly, trying to stop her from keep hurting herself.

Matt's expression softened as his eyes met hers, a mixture of understanding and pain written across his face before he closed them for a moment, taking a deep breath.

"Y/N, you're not weak for feeling all this. Everyone has insecurities, but hiding them from me... you're pushing me away, which caused me to think other things were going on, on my own fault. It was a miscommunication on both sides, but I want to help you, and I can't if you don't trust me, babe."

"I'm so sorry, Matt. I'm so sorry for hurting you, for letting my insecurities get to us. I just... I feel so lost." The girl murmured, her voice lowering in volume considerably, her shoulders slumping even more. "Maybe I'm really not the one for you, you know? Maybe they're all right, and you just have to see it, too."

Matt's heart clenched at her words, and he gently lifted her chin so their eyes could meet again, his orbes traveling repeatedly around her face.

"No, Y/N, don't say that." He whispered fiercely. "You are the one for me. You're everything to me. These comments, they don't know us. They don't know how much you mean to me, how much you complete me."

"But how can you be sure? How can you be sure that I'm not dragging you down?" Y/N's eyes shimmered with unshed tears, her breath still hitching from the sobs and her bottom lip trembling.

Matt sighed deeply, his thumb gently stroking her cheek.

"Because I know what we have. I know the love we share, and I see the amazing person you are, even if you don't see it yourself right now. You're not dragging me down. You're my partner, and we face everything together, good or bad. And I'm sorry for making it seem different or the opposite of what it really is by acting like that, I wish I could take it all back." He shook his head, feeling his hear burning with shame.

Her gaze softened slightly, a glimmer of hope sparking within her.

"But the comments... they get to me, Matt. It's like their words are a constant echo in my mind." She sniffled, immense pain surging through her shoulders and back as the adrenaline and tension subsided.

"I get it. I really do." He nodded understandingly. "But we can't let other people dictate our happiness. We have to believe in ourselves and each other. We're stronger than this, Y/N. And I'm here for you, always." His thumb caressed her jawline, lightly wiping the wet trails where the several tears fell.

"I don't want to lose you, Matt. I want to be strong for both of us." A small, tentative smile formed on her lips, the first real smile he'd seen in weeks.

"You don't have to be strong alone." He reminded her, his hand finding hers again, holding it firmly. "We'll be strong together. But you need to talk to me. Let me in, okay?"

"Okay. I'll try. I promise." She nodded, her grip on his hand tightening.

"That's all I ask. Just promise me you'll never feel like you're alone in this. We're a team, sweetheart. And I love you so much." Matt leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

"I love you too, Matt." She whispered, a new determination settling in her heart. "And I'll do better. I'll let you in."

"That's all I need. We’ll get through this together." He smiled, a genuine, relieved smile before using his hand holding hers to slowly pull her closer, wrapping his arms around her torso and pulling her upper body to rest against his own, laying her head against his hoodie-covered chest before resting his chin on top of her head, closing his eyes and exhaling deeply, the fresh smell of shampoo filling his nostrils, making him realize how much he missed it.

They stayed there, holding each other, feeling the weight of emotions that had been suppressed for so long. Y/N knew that the road to regaining trust and security in the relationship would be long and difficult for her, but in that moment, wrapped in Matt's arms, she felt a spark of hope.

taglist:

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(If you want to be added to the taglist, go to this post)

[jiminrings]

four seven eight, phase 3 (3)

pairing: jungkook x reader

wordcount: 8k

glimpse: jungkook wants to fight with, for, and beside you.

alternatively, nothing will ever be the same again, and you and jungkook couldn’t be any happier.

[ part one, intermission, part two, intermission 02, finale — complete series masterlist, from phase 1 to 3 ]

[ fluff, angst, the moral dilemma of keeping someone (read: yoongi) who was almost ur first, last, and everything in ur life despite having another person (read: jungkook) to be exactly that, yearning, full circle moments, The Vagueness n different kind of angst now that 478's a family n not jus a couple anymore, redemption :) ]

notes: thank you for locking in!!!! the og 478 fic aka phase 1 was released two years ago n now we're here can u believe . hee-hee thank u for all the love you've given and continue to have for them!! TRUSTTT that this won't be the last you'll see of them :-)

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!!

In a nightmare that Jungkook’s experiencing in real time, Hwayoung mistakes Yoongi as her dad.

Jungkook knows fully that there’s a knee-jerk reaction available for practically everything. He knows it well, because the impulse that occupies him kicks in during the most important events of his life.

Your husband’s impulse, which he often confuses for instinct, is too driven to the point that even for the briefest second, all that Jungkook could feel is himself. 

He tasted blood in the roof of his mouth when you left him the first time all those years ago. He had clenched his fists so hard, he almost drew blood over the realization that you had given up on him, even if it was for the time-being.

He felt his heartbeat in his eardrums when Hwayoung’s cries first pierced into the world (and straight to his ears), all to the point that the people surrounding you thought that he suddenly fell ill.

Jungkook could and should be able to feel himself right now; right now when his only child glazes past him and calls Yoongi as her dad, and right now when he hears his name called out for someone it doesn’t and should never belong to — except Jungkook can’t even feel his fingers.

He can’t taste blood in the roof of his mouth and he can’t feel his heartbeat in his eardrums. Jungkook can’t even claw himself out of a nightmare that’s built around him yet staged by his karma alone.

“That’s not appa, Hwayoung,” you cut into the thick air, your lips set in a straight line as it takes everything in you not to scoop up Jungkook into your arms because he looks like he’s about to collapse in shock. “Yoongi’s not your dad.”

Hwayoung understands, of course. She understands it like how she always does whenever her little mistakes get rectified. The concentrated pout on her face tells you that she’s listening, hearing you loud and clear as you reiterate a fact that she seems to have forgotten.

Jungkook genuinely tweaks within his own hold, the knot in his throat unbearable as he can’t even figure out how he’s standing beside you on his own to feet. He stands beside his wife and he stands before his daughter, yet he doesn’t even know if the weight he holds in between is enough for him to stay rooted.

Jungkook is as still as a rock while he watches you correct Hwayoung on the spot. He’s immoveable as he sees his daughter’s eyes flit to him in curiosity before finally coming to realization. He’s frozen, not by his own choosing, but because neither of his impulses nor instincts kick in.

Hwayoung nods easily, and Jungkook thinks that he’s about to lose his mind if it hadn’t already been muddled three seconds prior.

In a dream Jungkook doesn’t tell anyone, he’s not as easily interchangeable with Yoongi in the same way that Hwayoung thinks apples are pears sometimes, and that blue is somehow violet.

The mornings without Hwayoung have been too long for Jungkook.

They’ve been too long since her impromptu vacation from the both of you started, dragging out endlessly to the point that he had to ask you to hold his phone so he could withhold himself from hovering above Hwayoung by asking Yoongi for updates by the minute. Mornings were too bright; too normal to be spent by you and him without a playful toddler who tries to slip her finger in whenever someone yawns. 

Jungkook’s missed his mornings with Hwayoung in between the two of you.

He missed the mornings where it’s still dark out and he’s been asleep enough for long that he could make out Hwayoung twitching in the dark as she searches for a cold pillow, before later ending up next to your stomach or next to his head. 

He longed (read: still longs perpetually) for the mornings wherein he gets to sleep in and it’s you and Hwayoung who wake him up from dreams he’s always willing to part with, because he knows that he has something infinitely better to wake up to.

“Hiii, appa,” Hwayoung drawls out, hugging his leg as Jungkook automatically pats her head with a gentle hand, the smile on his face more or less forced as he chokes out a greeting. He gets snapped out of his trance immediately, even if he isn’t sure that the sight he woke up to this morning is even worth living alongside with.

“Hi, Young-ie,” he whispers, his eyes strikingly neutral even when Hwayoung grabs his hand and swings it around lightly.

Jungkook make the mistake of looking up and he doesn’t know which is worse; your husband, for once, can’t definitively tell if you looking at him empathically should placate him or unsettle him deep into his core.

What Jungkook can tell however, is that seeing Yoongi’s sly gaze on him with the ghost of a smirk on his lips plays into the rage that he can barely hold onto, if not for the little hand that’s already silently apologized to him.

Hwayoung may not know any better at the moment, but she knows well not to ask questions when Jungkook suddenly stands up out of nowhere when he’s just agreed to play on the floor with her two seconds ago, and she knows better not to stare when you immediately agree and not interrogate him at all.

“I’m gonna step out. Need to blow off steam because otherwise, I’ll take it out on him,” Jungkook whispers to your ear, hands grimly shoved into his pockets. “I know we both saw him do the same thing, Y/N,” he laughs humorlessly, clenching his jaw tightly before he leans down to speak again, enough for Yoongi to both see and hear just how angry he is. “Go put your friend on a leash.”

.

.

.

Yoongi likes to think that it’s spite that keeps him running.

The notion of doing things out of spite is not new at all to him; as a matter of fact, he actually thinks he’s the foundation of it.

Yoongi can’t keep track of the many times that it was spite that put food on the table and pushed him to his limits to arrive at the state that he’s in now. Yoongi yearns unlike no other to the point that it ails him because longing, without any bitterness in it at all, feels pointless.

Longing with only the ambition to surrender in the end is pointless; it doesn’t push Yoongi at all to be the best in anything. It doesn’t make him feel any better because without the regret in his stomach and the resentment in his chest, he wouldn’t be reminded of his dream. 

In a dream Yoongi wants to tell everyone, he doesn’t fall short to Jungkook.

It’s a ridiculous gag dream that feels like a poorly-made skit to him. Yoongi, with all his spite, can’t believe that he only comes second to the likes of Jungkook, who hadn’t worked as hard as he did nor attempted to fight tooth and nail to be even recognized (even under your light) in the first place.

In a well-rehearsed yet trite skit that appears in Yoongi’s mind whenever he goes to sleep after drinking a little too much or waking up with the sheets a little colder than usual, he doesn’t acknowledge Jungkook to be in the same orbit as him; in his dream that’s equivalent to Jungkook’s nightmare, you and Hwayoung are within arm’s reach.

It had been spite that made Yoongi smirk at Jungkook, right after the latter’s whole worldview shattered in front of him when Hwayoung mistook him for a stranger.

It’s everything but spite that makes Yoongi keep his head up high at you, refusing to bow even just a little out of shame. You’ve dragged him to the nearest empty room and while he would’ve teased you about it for any other context, he can’t seem to do it now when you look at him in disgust, even before he gets to open his mouth.

“What was that, Yoongi?!” you fume, standing by the door as you keep your voice hushed.

It’s almost poetic for Yoongi to see because even when you’re bound to curse him out, even when the both of you are at a turning point (or whatever is left of it to change before it perishes completely), you still put Hwayoung first above all else.

“What was what?” he smiles cheekily, even if it’s apparent that it’s just for show because if anything, it’s Yoongi who knows the most about his own fallacy.

“Don’t bullshit me.”

“I was playing around?” he offers weakly, shrugging his shoulders to make it seem that he doesn’t care at all about the anger you’ve reserved specifically for him; as if he’s not trying to buy time to prolong what could be the last time he’ll ever see you outside of work.

“That was nothing, Yoongi. What Hwayoung said meant nothing,” you grit, your fists balled to your sides as you try not to let your mind drift to the fact that you had confronted Yoongi first before comforting your own husband. “She’s a kid and she just got confused.”

There’s only silence between the two of you, and Yoongi wants to stay in it.

Yoongi wants to consume the dead air if it means that he won’t be backed into a corner and forced to take all the hits that Jungkook’s reality – which are his dreams— could throw to his face.

“You don’t have to tell me what I already know,” he murmurs lowly yet for some odd reason, Yoongi still refuses to bend his head.

The thing is, Yoongi doesn’t feel regret at all. Out of all the times he could ever feel it, he doesn’t feel it now, even when the supposed love of his life wants to banish him out forever.

“Then why do you look happy about it?” you seethe. “Why the hell did you look happy when Hwayoung called you her dad?”

“Because I was,” Yoongi smiles so tightly, his skin buckles under the pressure — come to think of it, his eyes almost feel like they’re stinging. “Do you want me to lie?”

“It would be better if you do,” you retort without even thinking, the tremble of your bottom lip only goading Yoongi further.

Yoongi stands before you, proud yet unwilling, as he serves as the largest and longest milestone of how far you’ve come in your career with his unrequited love for you as the barometer.

“Oh,” he reacts, his face falling before his throat tightens impossibly. Yoongi keeps nodding his head madly, the pricking of tears in his eyes making him frustrated even more. “Okay. Sure. Y-you know what, let me just lie andsay that I don’t constantly think about how it could’ve been me, o-or how I don’t usually hope that Jungkook completely fucks it up because I could show you that I’ll never do you wrong in the first place!”

“Friends don’t fucking do that, Yoongi!” you clench your teeth, the devastation on your face apparent yet never equivalent to that of Yoongi who’s already nearing his limit.

“I don’t want to be just your friend!” he whispers at you, because while he thinks about Hwayoung in the living room who’s just a few steps away, he also thinks of how scared he is to admit the fact to your face no matter how high he holds his head.

“I don’t think we can’t be friends either,” you sigh breathlessly, the finality to your tone making Yoongi freeze.

Finally, he lowers his head.

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know.”

In an overdone skit that plays in Yoongi’s head, somebody pulls out a slate and yells for the scene to be over, because not only did the whole thing play out in just his head, it was also just a silly dream that a married man with a kid could only have.

In a well-rehearsed, trite, and critically acclaimed skit that Yoongi writes himself but could never act in, you never have to be put in a position wherein you have to put a pause to your friendship with Yoongi. 

The dependency and entanglement the both of you have with each other, no matter in what degree, only proves to be a double-edged sword that hurts you more than it could ever hurt him, and Yoongi knows he can’t ever live with that.

There needs to be distance between you and Yoongi, and he’s never hated that fact more than now, no matter how much he knows it’s needed.

Yoongi knows he’s an intruder.

He’s an intruder who frequently gets to see you at work, he’s an intruder who always gets to loathe Jungkook no matter from what angle, and he’s an intruder who occasionally gets to hold Hwayoung who isn’t his.

( ♡ ) 

The truth is, Jungkook didn’t even really think of having kids until you came along. It had been a long withstanding truth in himself, even with Sora before you, that the thought of having someone of his own flesh and blood was too heavy for him — too much.

Jungkook didn’t entertain the thought of having children until you came into his life and he had decided then and there that there’d never be too much of you for him. 

You weren’t too much for Jungkook when you were still a new couple and had asked him if he’d be open to marrying you one day, even if you were barely a year into your relationship (and your first one at that) that he was yet to have a full grasp of. 

You weren’t too much for him when you had talked his ear off when you were still a rookie, promising him sincerely that you’ll make it big and that soon enough, the both of you would live a comfortable life — provided that you were still in each other’s by that time.

You weren’t too much for the Jungkook of then, your wide-eyed boyfriend who’s a man of few words, and you’re not too much for the Jungkook of now, your husband who feels like he has far too many feelings.

The truth is, Jungkook didn’t even really think that his heart could exist outside of his chest until Hwayoung came along.

There’s this dull, agonizing pain that always squeezes on Jungkook’s chest like clockwork whenever he feels he’s letting his daughter down. There’s bitterness in failure and there’s failure, even when Hwayoung’s tiny hands don’t seek his when they’re walking side by side, or when she’s not as enthusiastic about her meals like how he had been when preparing them–

Or even when Hwayoung mistakes Yoongi for her dad.

“This shirt?” Hwayoung asks, interrupting his inner turmoil as she points to a shirt of his from high school. She has a whole drawer filled with yours and Jungkook’s old clothes for sleep shirts, the giddy smile on her face as she awaits for approval making Jungkook almost forget everything. (Read: almost)

“You can choose any shirt you want, Young-ie,” he answers, his eyes only half-lidded and just a whisper close to stinging with tears. The exhaustion in his voice is practically inseparable from the gutting feeling of his full-time work as a dad for a little more than two years, being mistaken for Yoongi’s part-time favor as a godfather for barely two weeks and then some.

Jungkook’s hands immediately twitch at his sides when Hwayoung walks towards him and stumbles for the slightest second, the brief hiccup on his heart reminding him that he’ll be attuned to her no matter what — even if his daughter mistakes him for a stranger.

He knows the shit that the elders say about letting children fall. He has the script memorized by now and he knows the annoyance that blooms in him routinely when he gets unsolicited advice. 

Jungkook knows it all, and he knows that eventually, Hwayoung would get hurt and he won’t be able to do anything about it. Just like how she can hurt him, someway and somehow along the line (maybe she’ll call Yoongi appa again), and how he won’t know what to do with himself should that time come.

Tonight isn’t the time.

“Help, appa.”

“Okay,” he obliges. “I’m here,” Jungkook utters, ironically refusing to call himself the title that he wants Hwayoung to keep only for him; not for Yoongi, not for your manager, and not for the men that constantly pine after you even when they know fully that Jungkook’s in the picture.

Your husband knows greed and he hates it, because it had been in the form of Yoongi briefly smirking when Hwayoung called him appa that time.

Jungkook knows greed and is well-acquainted, because his fist is scuffed and Yoongi’s number is blocked. 

He knows greed and whatever indomitable power that puts a brake to his rage right when it’s about to pour over, because he had punched the brick wall in the patio instead of Yoongi to blow off steam, and because he has the mind to not taunt Yoongi with a complete family picture right after you distanced yourself away from him.

“I’m sorry, Young-ie. Mama and I are sorry to put you through that, okay?” he murmurs to her ear like it’s only their little secret for them to hear, the unbridled wonder that lingers in his daughter’s eyes enough to placate him that everything’s okay between them tonight.

( ♡ ) 

To wake up in the same bed as Jungkook and Hwayoung after so long makes your heart swell.

Your heart swells, not just with pride, but with a feeling you can’t ever put a name to. You’re more than content enough to see Hwayoung cuddled up to Jungkook and the mess of their hair tangled in between, but even more, you’re filled with a strange yearning that you don’t want them to stay that way.

You want more of them in a way that you’re overwhelmed, just by thinking that they’re the closest you could ever have to feeling immortal in this life. Not everything is completely back into place like they once were, but oddly enough, neither you and Jungkook are actively trying to replicate the old times. 

“You sure you’ll do the groceries alone this time?” you ask Jungkook for the third time, also receiving his third consecutive playful eye roll as he packs Hwayoung’s bag for you.

“Yes, ma’am. Just go with the princess and look at playschools,” he hums, ruffling your daughter’s hair that you spent a good ten minutes on. “If I come with, I fear I’ll already cry just by thinking Young-ie’s growing up.”

“She is growing-…”

“Can’t hear you!” he hollers as he backs out from the driveway, the smile on his face incomparable because he woke up with the thought that you did.

Jungkook wants more of you and Hwayoung, not because he just wants to return your unspoken sentiment, but because he figures that no amount of time or space will ever be enough if it’s the both of you that hold it.

It’s nice to be back to a somewhat normal routine. With your work finished (and all that is left is for the publicity to ramp up) after having spent so much time on it, you immediately resign yourself to the fixed routine you’ve been dying to get back on.

You’ve almost forgotten just how chaotic a supposedly mundane breakfast could be for a family of three, seeing to it that Jungkook’s packed lunches had grown on you to the point that even having your own plate on the dining table felt weird.

You’ve almost forgotten just how liberating it felt to walk outside with Hwayoung (despite having to put on masks and caps on for animosity) without having to worry how much time you have left before shooting starts again, considering that your daughter doesn’t even regard you for the actress that you are.

Hwayoung pulls your hand and walks ahead of you, and you let her. She’s small and unyielding, even if she pulls you with the equivalent of a mini Jungkook’s strength.

Your daughter walks ahead of you and you don’t mind because you rarely ever get to see her in the sunlight wearing the dresses that Jungkook buys even if there aren’t any sales going on (you’re trying to get him to curb his shopping addiction), as opposed to her being bundled up in pajamas, sitting on your lap in your trailer under studio lights.

Hwayoung has the strength that only a child of yours and Jungkook’s could ever possess, because while you freeze in your tracks upon seeing a familiar face as soon as you open the glass doors to the playschool you were about to scope out, Hwayoung only looks at you and the woman in front with a smile.

“Y/N, is that you?”

“Sora,” you exhale, the surprise probably evident on your face because it takes a solid second for you to register her presence. “Hi.”

Sora’s even prettier in person (not that she was ever ugly in the first place) than the beauty she was on the picture you’ve seen of her and Jungkook, her genuine smile unmistakeable because she looks like light itself.

You get why Jungkook had fallen for her, and while there’s nothing about now to blame him for, you can’t understand either why Sora’s absolutely ecstatic to see her ex-boyfriend’s wife.

“She’s my daughter,” you belatedly add after finally moving on from being starstruck, putting a reassuring hand on Hwayoung’s back (who doesn’t need it anyway because she’s more at ease right now than you are) as you smile. “Say hi, baby.”

Sora gasps in awe, and while you appreciate her politeness in not assuming anything about Hwayoung before you introduced her yourself, the curious, baser part of you wonders if she thinks about you and what she could’ve been–

If Sora thinks about you as much as you do with her whenever she fights with her partner, or if she ever thinks about the lingering insecurity that comes with being a lover in general. 

“She’s an absolute sweetheart! She looks so much like you.”

“She does?” you beam, completely surprised at her words. You’re already surprised about Sora in general along with her unexpected enthusiasm, but you’re even more shocked at her sincere interest. “A lot of family and friends say that she looks like Jungkook more.”

“I mean they do say that soulmates will look alike at one point,” she shrugs playfully, head tilting as she waves to Hwayoung while you digest her words.

You didn’t think Jungkook’s past would be this kind no matter how much it had hurt you before.

You feel guilty for having expected a confrontation of some sort, the slight paranoia that had creeped on you before completely dissipating the longer that you look at Sora. She looks at ease and it’s contagious, the soft smile on her face extending up to her eyes when she sees your gaze lingering at the hand on her belly.

“Oh, yeah. I’m expecting,” she announces excitedly, cheerfully, as if you’re childhood friends and go to brunch every Sunday — as if you’re close enough for her to spread her joy with.

“Congrats, Sora,” you grin, extending your hand to gently hold her arm in celebration.

You had insisted again and again to yourself that Sora’s no one to you; that she’s a blip in Jungkook’s radar that lasted for years and came before you. You had let the idea of her consume you fully to the point that her kindness takes you aback.

You can’t blame Sora, and she can’t blame you either. Somewhere along Jungkook’s mosaic he’s made for himself, she lingers in there as a stray piece that fits no matter the pattern. It’s irrevocable and only natural for your husband to be an accumulation of everything and everyone he’s ever loved, and while you know that you and your daughter occupy most of it, you can’t ever erase Sora from existence.

You want to ask who’s the dad with the most inconspicuous tone you could ever possess. 

You want to ask her how she’s been and how things went with her partner during the last time that she and Jungkook had celebrated their anniversary as exes. 

You want to ask Sora about her cousin and maybe even joke about how chaos must probably run in her bloodline.

You want to ask Sora about hundreds of things and hold her accountable for the sleepless nights she’s costed you and your family, but you hold yourself back — not only because it’s the right thing to do, but because everything had already worked out in the end. Sora’s already in the past and you want her to stay there, even if you have the opportunity to get the answers you’ve only used to pray for.

“For what it’s worth, Y/N, I’m sorry. I know it’s a little too late to say it, but I really am,” she murmurs after some time of only you and her silently watching Hwayoung talk to another kid, the sincerity in her eyes evident even if she holds her head low before you.

The closure you could only ever ask for whenever your heart hurt the most, comes to you when you feel that you’re at your lightest.

( ♡ ) 

True to your word, you don’t let Jungkook attend your press conference.

There’s no point in denying that you do need Jungkook here with you, but there’s no denying either that needing him and wanting him to be here are two different things.

You’re oddly reminiscent of the time that you had been in this position, and even if the memory’s bittersweet, the rational and realistic part of your brain could only think that it’s reasonable to miss Jungkook despite barring him from here. This is your highest peak after all, and it’s only normal for you to be nervous.

It’s normal for you to be nervous despite telling the staff that you’re going to keep the wedding ring on your finger throughout the entire thing. It’s entirely reasonable for you to be jittery at the possibility of being asked about your family, no matter how far-fetched the queries could be from the actual movie at hand.

It’s only okay for you to feel that trepidation in your stomach even if everything in your life, at the moment, is at your favor.

The room’s quiet with only you and Jimin in it, and without the buffer of Hwayoung that laughs through everything that he says, the one-on-one that you have with your manager reminds you of the talk you had to have when the rumors about you and Yoongi broke out.

Jimin has more years and experiences under his belt now, but with the way he talks to you, it feels as if it’s neither of you are experienced; that the both of you are complete beginners who’d like to think that the only way to go is up, and that a tiny irregularity could instantly make everything you’ve built to collapse.

The talk about Eunsu has been a long time coming, and Jimin wants to let you know now when there’s nobody else — when you’re reminded that you have everything to both gain and lose.

“I’ve managed to put a lid on it for the meantime,” he clears his throat, looking at your reflection in the mirror as he puts on your microphone delicately. “I don’t know for how long though.”

Your gaze looks blank, almost unreadable to the untrained eye, yet Jimin knows that there’s a weight to it. Unlike all the brush-ins you’ve ever had with issues before, this is the first time that it had ever hit home and everything that ever mattered to you.

He could only imagine the weight of what it must feel like to be you; of how heavy it must be to be the one to take everything in stride.

“It’s okay, Jimin. Thank you,” you murmur, looking down on your lap as you try to fight the frown that comes with the realization that you’ve been used to having Hwayoung on it.

“Y/N,” he tuts, his tone stern yet familiar.

“Hmm?” you ask while you’re in a daze, letting yourself stare at a spot on the wall that could only hold your attention for so long. You can’t erase it as much as you can’t avoid this conversation with Jimin, and even more, you can’t avoid the eventual turbulence you’ll be subjecting your family to once everything goes public.

There’s an innate guilt that comes with being a wife and a mother, you figure. It’s your first time being both and with it comes the sense of doom; it’s not the morbid type of ruination, but rather, it’s the anxiousness that comes with knowing you don’t only have yourself to look after.

“What Eunsu did to Jungkook— to your family, even-…”

“I know,” you interrupt, nodding fervently to cut the conversation short, except Jimin doesn’t fold.

“I know you’re protecting them. I know you’re thinking about Hwayoung the most,” Jimin sighs. “But you wanting to protect them also means that you’re protecting Eunsu even if it isn’t your intention,” he murmurs, squeezing your shoulder gently. “The news coming out about her won’t be the worst thing in the world.”

The same two people that you’re protecting, one of them more innocent and clueless than the other yet just as loving, give you complacency amidst your unease.

( ♡ )

You always insisted on having a big bed.

Jungkook remembers your insistence on having a big bed when the two of you moved in together and slowly started furnishing your home before your wedding. Your preferences didn’t exactly clash his because while you mostly took care of the budget and he took care of the aesthetics, there would almost always be common ground. Almost.

Additionally, you also remember Jungkook’s gratefulness for your stubbornness towards having a big bed because realistically, he can’t ever picture himself lying down on a deluxe standard bed with a toddler between the two of you.

The maintenance for the third-biggest variation of a king-sized bed that you had pleaded him for (and even made a whole presentation about defending your case) with Hwayoung in the picture now is even more troublesome. The quest for bedsheets that are hypoallergenic, extremely soft and comfortable, have a neutral, classic, yet easily-maintainable design, and toddler-proof simultaneously seems to be never-ending.

Jungkook can’t sleep at all sometimes. Even when the airconditioning in the room is at a perfect temperature, his comforter is on his person and not on the other side of the bed by your doing, his daughter’s hair isn’t in his mouth, and his cat’s humongous built isn’t blocking his passage of air, there’s days wherein Jungkook can’t put himself to sleep.

In one way or another, it’s always the ache and worry that manifests in his chest for the next day. He keeps wondering about tomorrow’s meals and the probability of Hwayoung throwing a tantrum. He keeps wondering if there’s going to be a wild curveball that somebody will throw at you tomorrow, and how fast he can get to you should that happen.

Jungkook’s no stranger to sleepless nights. He’s used to analyzing one unfavorable context after another to scare himself into being awake so he can’t get nightmares when he eventually goes to sleep.

To wake your husband up just because you couldn’t sleep yourself is a menial task that you finally talk yourself into doing, the little shake that you give Jungkook on his shoulders enough to make him jolt awake.

“Kook, wake up.”

“What, what-…? What is it?” he darts up groggily, eyes barely adjusted to the dim light you’ve set the room to. Jungkook’s lost to why you even woke him up when Hwayoung’s out like a log, but he doesn’t question you on it — instead, he gently carries his daughter to occupy his warm spot on the bed, just so he could crawl his way to the middle to listen to you.

“Jungkook.”

“Hmm,” he hums again, sleepily propping himself up with a pillow as he tries to blink the sleep away from his eyes. Jungkook doesn’t even dare to take a peek at the alarm clock because all he knows is that you’re awake and you also want him to be, so he doesn’t complain.

Four seconds. Breathe in through your nose.

Seven seconds. Hold it.

Eight seconds. Exhale through your mouth.

“Let’s fight,” you whisper, leaning your head on Jungkook’s shoulder.

Your husband could only rub his eyes tiredly, the yawn that escapes him making his entire body shake. “Huh? Right now?” he clarifies, the sleepy pout on his lips only highlighting how wide and docile his eyes are for you at the moment.

“Come on. Let’s fight,” you half-heartedly offer, bumping your head to his.

Your husband only stays silent, putting a hand up to your forehead to check for a fever. 

Jungkook only yawns once again, his sluggishness being infectious to the point that you suppress your own by burying your face to his neck.

“Can we like, fight in the morning or something?” he tries to compromise, fully serious about a half-baked joke you woke him up for.

Jungkook’s come a long way. He’s no longer your husband who didn’t want to fight you on things for the sake of self-preservation. He’s no longer the one who avoided confrontation in fear of setting you apart from him. He’s this now, so willing to go with your every whim that if you want to have a fight with him at two in the morning, he’ll rub the sleep out of his eyes and let you rest on his shoulder if ever you were being serious.

You kiss your husband on the lips, the love-drunk smile that he gives you afterward making you snort.

Your king-sized bed is a mess. Somewhere by the end of your foot, there’s Hwayoung’s pink crayon that she insists on holding to sleep. Somewhere by the tips of Jungkook’s hair, there’s Miso’s fur kept together with his daughter’s hair clip because she didn’t want to go to sleep without putting it on him.

Jungkook, your husband who’s clad in a shirt of yours with too many holes on it because of his daughter’s safety scissors and his cat’s claws, hugs you to his chest in silence.

You think about how you can’t tell when the news about Eunsu is going to release, while Jungkook sneakily tries to uncover your sock-covered foot with his own because he lost one of his socks while sleeping and wanted to be even.

You think about how the Academy nominees are going to be revealed in a week, while your husband says out loud his grocery list for the week while randomly staring off into space every ten seconds.

You think about Hwayoung attending playschool in a matter of months, while your husband internally plays rock, paper, scissors with himself as he waits for you to gather your thoughts.

You think about you and Jungkook and whatever comes with, for, and between you while he hugs you under the dim lights.

Four seconds. Breathe in through your nose.

Seven seconds. Hold it.

Eight seconds. Exhale through your mouth.

“What if it only gets brutal from here on out, Jungkook? What do I do?” you murmur, looking up at him.

“Who says it has to be brutal?” Jungkook laughs, his voice bouncing out into the space as if you’re in a newly-built house with barely any furniture. 

Jungkook’s laughter is still joyous and loud, because even if Jungkook’s heart is a newly-built house, his happiness still reverberates the more it settles into the ground and comes closer to its roots; closer to you.

“We’ll keep up.”

[desireangel]

Infernal Desires | Part One

Aemond Targaryen x fem!Reader

Synopsis: When your family is caught up in treasonous scandal, the Prince Regent makes an offer that is impossible to refuse. To avoid what certainly would have been death by his sword, your family promises you to a man who is followed by whispers of violence and sin.

Warnings: mdni 18+! Strictly. Dark-ish ??? Aemond! Bad language, reader is implied to be from a certain family but not really, rushed & unedited. Sexual tension, allusions to sex, mentions of death and killing, Aemond gets angry handsy, hair pulling, mention of the noose bc Aemond would never tell just anyone how he feels. This is mainly a word vomit - I am once again incapable of limiting my writing to one part.

Word Count: 3.4k

A/N: aaand I’m back with a rewrite of an old fic I started last year! hopefully this is somewhat decent to follow along with - I wrote this while severely sleep deprived, stressed about procrastinating my uni work and knackered from work. Let me know if we are even interested in a part 2 or if I’ve missed any warnings!

It is a debt to be paid and an alliance to be made, that is all it is. 

Easy enough for them to say. After all, it was you who suffered from the mistakes of your family and not them. They may as well have left you to the dangers of King’s Landing with nothing more than a shattered dignity and the tears that trailed down your cheeks. 

Shit. Crying wasn’t going to do anything and while you never intend to present yourself as weak to anyone, there was nothing you could do to stop the angry tears that welled in your eyes. You wondered if your parents truly pained to see their daughter cry or if the tremble in your mother’s lip was nothing more than a pretence. 

Your father stared at the ground by your feet. “It was not meant to come to this.”

“But it did. Are you really going to barter me to–”

“We are not bartering you. Stop saying that,” He snapped. “All you will have to do is take the title as his wife and give him children. It cannot be that bad.”

The glare you sent his way was full of malice and rage. How could he say that? You were better than that, smarter than that and the thought of being reduced to who knows what that man had in store for you as his wife - they may as well have cut your tongue out and made you a slave. Knowing that your family, whom you loved endlessly, were so sure of selling you so easily to a cruel man like Aemond Targaryen caused a dull ache in your chest. 

It seemed hard to breathe through the betrayal, your chest heavy with deceit and heartbreak. Had you known what your father had been planning, you could have run away and found a way to survive without the comfort of your family lands. 

“What Prince Aemond has offered has saved us,” Jericho stood leaning lazily against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. He stared at you, his little sister who would have died before leaving him to such a fate. “I do not expect you to understand the complex relationships between our Houses but consider this, dear sister. Would you rather him have the Vale burned to ashes? Have us hung from the walls of the Red Keep? I made a mistake. I know this, and I am sorry but this is the only choice we have.”

There was a tense silence. Jericho had ruined everything with little chance of repair and it was you who had to pay the price. You knew how the Crown punished Rhaenyra’s sympathisers and Jericho had damned the future of your family. What was happening is wrong - war is never worth the price it takes. You wholeheartedly agreed with that but there was something inherently stupid about putting the people you cared about at risk just to send a raven with a conditional offer of a bent knee. 

You blinked as you tried to make sense of it all. “Explain it to me. I do not understand.”

“Aemond Targaryen is Prince Regent but I was once his only friend,” Jericho said. You knew he used the word friend strategically. “He extended an olive branch. Repent our House’s treachery through our last daughter and a pin for the Vale on King Aegon’s map. You could not understand how generous that is. Refusing would have been a sentence of death.”

Friend? Generous?  You would have laughed if you could. You briefly wondered how Jericho had managed to barter with the Prince Regent before they had taken his head. Alas, it would be of no use to ask a question you would get no answer to. The men of these walls underestimated the capabilities of a woman’s mind and a woman’s strength. 

“All he gains is something to hold over your head, brother. Paying off your mistakes with my life? You have heard the stories - he has become a cruel man. Warming his bed when he sees fit and making his heirs will not fix what you did. Many have been executed for far less.”

Your father cleared his throat. “It is our only option. We have nothing more to offer in place and a ruined reputation. The family name holds the last of our power and without what little power we have left, your brother and I would lose the Vale. It is a miracle we have not already.”

“The Prince wants to dangle you over our heads? Fine. If that is what it takes for him to spare our lives.” Jericho’s voice was so rough. It was the first time you had seen him as anything other than gentle to you and you felt a heaviness at the sight of him so distressed. 

There was not much left for you outside of the empty empire that your father’s father had built for your family. At least you still had each other and your titles, and despite the situation that they’ve forced you into, at the end of the day, you all loved each other to death. It would have been a death sentence but you could have run away instead, could have found a life for yourself somehow. But how could you live with yourself knowing that you’d damned those you love because of your pride and fear of life as a princess?

So reluctantly and tearfully, you nod your head and silently agree.

Aemond wondered whether he was making the right decision by giving Jericho a second chance. If it were anyone else, he would have had them hung without a second thought. But you and your brother were different. 

It was a moment of weakness, an inexcusable lapse in his judgment to have spared Jericho’s treason because he remembered you and to have further justified his actions by claiming the Vale through your betrothal. While it was his first and foremost motivation and Aemond was bound by duty to take advantage of the opportunity, it was not the only reason he had suggested the idea at the Small Council.

There was hardly a person in Aemond’s life whom he could call a friend. There was not a soul in this world that Aemond could truly trust, not even Jericho who had been by his side for the first parts of his childhood. 

Nor you, who had at once shown him kindness in his youth despite the mockery that was often made of him. You had only accompanied your brother and father to King’s Landing on three occasions, and what started as your soft conversation and willing smiles for him had left his memory entirely until he heard word of Jericho’s treacherous message. 

Aemond, despite your attempts at friendship, had never returned your kindness. In truth, he didn’t know how to. And quickly, your smiles had turned to frowns and your attempts at friendly talk had become sarcastic remarks and quiet scoffs.

It was also a moment of selfishness and a decision made with nothing more than foolish curiosity. You had always been there, in the back of the picture and unnoticed by everyone apart from him. There was not a person in this world who had peaked his curious desire more than you and the two of you had spent the brief occasions together bickering and pestering one another. Regardless of your initial efforts, Aemond was never your friend. While he had never actually done you wrong before now, you were never really fooled by his deceiving nonchalance and forced manners. 

The indifference that you had for each other had no cause to fade. Even less so with the recent murderous, vile stories of Aemond the Kinslayer who killed his nephew and (while most wouldn’t dare utter the words beyond certain walls) who may have crippled his own brother with Vaghar’s fire. You had almost fallen to your knees upon hearing of your betrothal to such a man.

Aemond was now twenty and three but when it came to whatever distorted plot he was planning, he felt juvenile. Your brother and your father were the perfect pawns. You were the perfect leverage - perhaps a pawn yourself. As much as he convinced himself that having you in his possession would mean he would have invaluable power over your House to do exactly as he wanted within his twisted politics while he has the power to do so, the idea of having you in the palm of his hand, in his control and eventually beneath his body was exciting. 

He was never one for meaningless entertainment. But what was the harm in indulging himself this once?

It was a formality. Being presented at King’s Landing for the first time to your future husband, his family and to those whom he currently ruled over as the woman to be his wife. 

You had changed since the last time Aemond had seen you. It had only been two years but he would never admit to his surprise at just how different you had become from the cowering young girl he remembered you to be when you were just ten and four. 

He had rushed through the formalities of greeting you and your family, welcoming you into what would come to be your home. The lunch was painfully awkward as little was said between anyone. The Dowager Queen spoke formally yet kindly with your mother and shared a few words with you but you could barely engage with her conversation under the burning gaze of the Prince Regent who sat across from you.

It was over quickly, before anyone could start bickering about the traitorous reasons behind your presence. Aemond shortly convinced his mother that no escort would be needed, so long as Ser Criston Cole was there when you both were left to acquaint yourselves in private. You gulped as you were lead shamelessly into the Prince’s chambers. 

Aemond only set a glance upon Ser Criston and the raven haired man took his place outside the closed doors.

You were sure that the Prince’s chambers were as large as an entire wing of your own home yet you felt claustrophobic under his gaze. His eye was hellfire as he silently stared at you, leaning back in his chair and resting his fingers under his chin. There was little you could do but stare back at him, anxiously tapping your foot on the marbled floor.

In your eyes, Aemond had always been torturously beautiful. But here, as his gaze fell upon you and you shared the silence of his personal space, he was ethereal. It caused your breath to catch as you waited for him to address you first.

Shakily, you broke the silence. “Why am I here, my Prince?”

“You are to be my wife,” He drawled, fingers tapping on the desk that he lazily dragged his hand along. What a stupid question. “That is why you are here.”

“I believe you know that is not what I ask, my Prince.” You scowled at him. It wasn’t smart to talk to him in such a way, you knew that. He is Prince Regent, after all. A memory of your brother’s warning to be careful flashed briefly in your mind. 

His expression deceivingly calm, Aemond considered putting you in your place. He may be behaving in a way he does not recognise of himself but he would not tolerate your disrespect. 

Instead, he somewhat answered your question. “We will be married so that your brother’s treason shall be forgiven and your House will be sworn to the King. You will stay here, in my chambers. Do whatever the seven hells you please, it does not matter.”

In any other instance, Aemond would have detested the sight of you gaping at him, stumbling over your words stupidly as your wide eyes confidently held his own. You had changed. Or maybe he had just been blind to the perfect curves of your body or the way you looked at him like he ruled the realms, so submissive yet so full of fire. So tempting. 

He’d condemn himself to the noose before ever admitting to his thoughts. 

“What?” you almost gasped. There was no chance that you could stay in his chambers like this. You were sure the whispers of the Keep were already running amok with Aemond’s insistence on isolating the two of you behind the doors to his private chambers.

Aemond took pleasure in the way you seethed. “I will not make it so easy for you to return to scheming with your treasonous family.”

You could hit him. If he weren’t a Prince, you would have. “You are keeping me prisoner? For something I have had no such hand in?”

“No,” he stood from the table and in two strides, he was in front of you. So close that you could smell the woody oils he bathed in mixing with the smell of his musk and the leather of his clothes. You shuddered. “Maybe I am. Call it what you like. You can do as you please, eat as you please, wear whatever you please, you can explore these halls as you wish. I do not care. But you will listen to me and it will all be as per my will.”

Before you could respond, Aemond continued. “For all they know, I’ve made it clear to everyone that you will stay in the chambers that I have chosen for you, on the other side of that wall.”

Aemond’s eye was a violet-blue inferno as it held yours. He was closer now and you let your eyes drag across every part of his devastating face, swallowing at his beauty and wondering what lay under the leather of his eye patch. 

Struggling not to lose your breath, not to lean in to touch him and feel him, you held your head high and turned your back to him. “Fuck you.”

A gasp fell from your lips as Aemond’s hand found the back of your head in an instant, slender fingers weaving into your hair gently before closing into a tight fist and pulling back slowly so that you were forced to look up at the roof, the back of your head resting against his chest. His other hand wrapped around your waist, holding you back firmly against him. The tightness of his grip on your hair ached and left you dizzy, an unfamiliar longing for his hands to find more of you with the same fervour had you holding back a pathetic whine. 

Suddenly, you were burning from head to toe, a fire setting on your skin as he held you roughly against him, so close that you felt the feather light tickle of his breath grazing your hair when he spoke. He was scorching you through the leather of his tunic, your dress doing little to shield you from the heat of his body.

More than his anger, Aemond’s amusement made the air heavy. The way he unashamedly let his stare fall upon your lips, tucked between your teeth as you struggled to hold your glare, had your breath snatched from your lungs. 

Aemond dropped his head enough so that his lips lingered just under your ear, close enough that you could hear him draw in a breath, dragging his nose across the dip where your jaw met your neck. Your face burned at how shamelessly he had inhaled your soft scent.

“Is that how you talk to your Prince?” Aemond’s voice was low, dripping with a dominance that commanded respect. Placing his free hand on your left shoulder, he slowly turned you to face him, making sure to keep you tightly pressed against him.

Aemond was disastrously beautiful. The curve of his nose, the strength in his jaw, the way his scar painted the top of his cheek, the soft fall of his pin straight hair and the soft shine of his lips which you so badly yearned to feel. You cursed yourself for thinking such a thing as his low voice broke you out of your distraction. “This is my home. Right now, all of Westeros is mine. You are here because I said so, because I own everything. Everything. Including you. You would do well to remember your place while you are here, pretty thing.”

The fire in your blood was rage. You had never felt such desire that had your body craving another. It was anger driving you mad, it had to be. Despite your better judgment, you whispered once again, “Fuck. You.”

His jaw ticked and with a strong yank, you were flush against him. The pounding of your heart was violent and you were sure he could feel it against his chest but you were stuck under his burning gaze. Aemond was angry. And you couldn’t help but think that it suited him. It made him all the more desirable. 

Aemond was strong and hard against your body, tense as he held you so intimately yet so roughly. 

By the gods, you couldn’t even think. What was happening? 

“My Pr-”

“Quiet,” Aemond commanded. His deep voice, raspy with lust and with rage sent shockwaves down your spine. “What a mouth on you, my Lady. Fuck me, is that so?”

You muttered incoherently under your breath, the desire and the fear making your eyes flutter shut as you trembled against the Prince who held you so roughly.

“Hm,” Aemond chuckled when you let out a short whimper. He squeezed you tightly, his voice low and dark. “I could have you begging on your knees, crying for my cock all day and all night and you would never deserve it. You best careful, ñuha dāria, because I can ruin you.”

Another gasp fell from your lips and Aemond took pleasure in the way you squirmed against him, thighs pressing together as you felt the flush of his words through your body. He hummed, you were so reactive. Somehow, you fit perfectly against him, so that he could feel every little tremor he caused in your body, every goosebump that he placed on your skin. His gaze never left you, his resolve solid as iron. 

Your mouth watered at the thought of the things that Aemond could do to you. Thoughts you had never imagined yourself capable of harbouring, especially not for a man like Aemond Targaryen. It overwhelmed you - he overwhelmed you. 

But all you had to do was glance at the map that was splayed over his table and the weaponry he had discarded at the foot of it before you were trying to shove him away from you. Aemond stepped away from you upon noticing the panic in your movements. You barely noticed the flash of worry that passed through his features before he so skilfully replaced his mask. 

The rise and fall of your chest was heavy and you had the sudden urge to punch the sultry smirk right off of Aemond’s face. That was not okay. Right now, you didn’t even want to think about the way your body reacted to him, they way you would have let him have his way with you right there and then despite all the consequences that would rain down upon you. 

“I will not stay in here,” You closed your eyes to avoid his stare, chest heaving as you caught your breath and reminded yourself of the formalities of Aemond’s title. And of the possible repercussions for denying him so stubbornly. “My Prince, it is not appropriate.”

You hadn’t heard him make his way across the room until you heard the door open. Aemond hesitated, his resolve was not as strong as he had thought given the way his heart was beating as if he had run a mile. The strain at his pelvis was almost painful and his hands urged to be tangled in your hair again, squeezing your hips, feeling the warmth of your skin underneath your clothing. Perhaps you weren’t wrong and Aemond returned to his hardened self at the thought of being unable to control his desires. 

“Hm,” he drawled, stoic as ever and standing tall at the doorway and gazing down at you over his shoulder with a red hot spark in his eye. Aemond’s mind raced with a million words, many in the alluring language he knew you could not understand and they all tasted dangerous on his tongue. “You are not wrong. It is not appropriate until we are wed, ñuha dāria.”

[natalyarose]

𝒥𝓊𝓅𝒾𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒩𝒶𝓀𝓈𝒽𝒶𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓈 & 𝒢𝑒𝓃𝒾𝑒𝓈 🧞✨💐✩

I've always thought Jupiter ruled Nakshatras (Punarvasu, Vishakha, & Purvabhadprada) to be veryy magical with their themes of limitlessness, expansion, sheer spiritual abundance & power. I'm not sure if it has been talked about before, but something that always comes to mind when I envision Jupiterian Nakshatras or meet heavily Jupiter influenced people, is the concept of genies.

Jupiter's abundance and endlessly giving nature is known to be a blessing and a curse. A Jupiterian can be the sweet, generous, selfless friend who is there when you need them; providing you endless support, refuge & material generosity.

The dark side of this inherently generous 'wish-fulfilling' nature of Jupiter Nakshatras, is the possibility that they enable dark behaviours in others & themselves. Always saying yes, always being available and endlessly giving to the wrong type of cause or person, can make you complicit in the crime so to speak, even if the intention is simply to give, or give chances (Punarvasu's themes of second chances, 'return to the light'). Jupiter Nakshatras entail hugeee lessons regarding purpose (Vishakha, 'the Star of Purpose') & being intentional and wise as to how you use your power and influence (the infamous test of character in Purvabhadrapada 'the man with two faces').

These Jupiterian themes have always made me think of genies- wish fulfilling creatures who are inherently unable to say no to the wishes uttered to them. Having to just sit and watch people wish for dreadful things and just go... 'as you wish'. Obviously in real life, there really is a choice not to feed into others' and ones own toxic patterns but with Jupiterians, the urge to give, to be constantly available to others, can almost feel like it's not a choice. It's energetically intertwined in their make-up.

I would love to gather more examples, but it's 3am here and this was a bit of a spur of the moment thing I had to get out haha- I looked into a few of the most prominent 'genie' roles in movies and as I suspected, every single one features an actor/actress with strong Jupiter influence.

Jeannie from 60s sitcom 'I dream of Jeannie' - actress, Barbara Eden has Punarvasu Ascendant

Kazaam from 90s comedic film 'Kazaam' - actor/basketball player Shaquille O'Neal has Purvabhadrapada Sun

Genie from Disney's Aladdin - played in the live action movie by Will Smith, Vishakha Moon.

This genie theme really makes me think of all of the Jupiterian Nakshatras, but Vishakha especially. A friend of mine who is a Vishakha stellium always tells me about how it is said that Vishakha has the ability to generate 'instant karma'. So Vishakha natives to an extent greater than other Nakshatras will receive the raw manifested result of their thoughts/actions veryy quickly. Much like a genie granting instant wishes.

I was going to mention also that the whole genie archetype also reminds me of Rohini a bit- the wish-fulfilling aspect, the element of fulfilling desires without shame/inhibition. It's a little different in nature, but Rohini Nakshatra's got a similar theme where the native is incredibly nurturing of who or what sets their heart on fire, sometimes to a fault. Rohini is capable of immense growth but can forgo morality/practicality for the sake of immersion in the process of creation & sparking joy. Rohini's philosophy is something along the lines of 'let go of judgement because judgement inhibits creation and disrupts purity'. This is very true, but of course as humans on the divided and dense Earthly plane, we know that having a sense of judgement & boundaries is also important.

That was very wordy, but hopefully y'all see what I'm getting at lol. Although I'm more inclined to associate Rohini with wise old wizard dudes with cool beards & mad but genius scientists lol.

Back to Jupiterians-

I believe that Jupiter Nakshatra's 'remedy' is to eventually realise that they are not a slave to their giving nature, and the power lies in them to decide, & give only to a person, dream, goal or cause that truly is aligned with their own soul's path. Break free from the shackles lol- with wisdom hopefully. Without that element of wisdom, Jupiter can run wild with that discovered power.

Jupiterians struggling with discernment is why Jupiter Nakshatras oppose Venusian Nakshatras (Bharani opposes Vishakha; Purvaphalguni opposes Purvabhadrapada; Purvashadha opposes Punarvasu). Venus masters the fine art of 'necessary cruelty' sometimes ya gotta rip out the weeds, warn off the pigeons and trim the rose bush to make your garden a beautiful, pleasant, luxurious place. Jupiter can struggle with this, instinctively wanting to be a safe space for everyone and everything.

Jupiter ruled Nakshatras also partially oppose Solar Nakshatras (Krittika, Uttaraphalguni & Uttarashadha) illustrating the Jupiterian struggle with putting oneself first. Solar Nakshatras keep their energy strong and vibrantly resounding at their core; wheras Jupiter Nakshatras are kinda messy with their energy (lol, not necessarily in a bad way)- they disperse their energy everywhere, giving & giving. Both Solar & Jupiter Nakshatras deal with themes of limitless reserves energy, but in opposite, contrasting ways.

There's so much I could write about Jupiterians, I love Jupiter energy very much. I really love all of the Nakshatras lol, I mean how could you not? Every Nakshatra holds teachings that are integral to making the world a better place 💕🪷

Thankyou for reading!

[elronds-meleth-nin]

I Could Love You With My Eyes Closed

I heard a song and one of the lines got stuck in my head, so here's a fic. (If you're curious, it was "Figure You Out" by VOILÀ.) No idea why, but Thranduil just felt perfect for this.

Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

Thranduil x Reader

[A/N: This is mostly just fluff, but there's some innuendo, so... 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI!!!]

Warnings: Fluff, angst, Elf x Human romance, mutual pining, idiots in love, Thranduil being dramatic, fake betrothal speedrun, Thranduil being soft for one (1) person only, protective Thranduil, Human!Reader has been adopted by elf who had no idea what he was getting into and Thranduil thinks he's an idiot, mild innuendo.

~*~

My mind wandered during my guard shift. Given that nothing ever penetrated this deep into the realm without the king's consent, the risk of allowing my focus to roam among my busy thoughts was minimal. The night air was brisk as I sat on one corner of the king's balcony with my bow laid across my lap.

Normally, the night air was soothing, but at that moment, all I could think about was how different everything would be soon. There would be no more extravagant views of the stars framed by elaborately gilded windows, no more training with my bow, no more front row seats to royal audiences, and - the worst of all - no more late night conversations when King Thranduil grew weary of his work.

I'd taken those things for granted. Oh, I hadn't squandered my time once I'd become one of his guards, by any means, but now that I might be forced to give up that position sooner than I'd anticipated, a list of regrets seemed to be cycling endlessly in my mind's eye. One that caused me the most pain was that I would very soon no longer be the recipient of his majesty's secret smirks when something we'd discussed privately occurred in his court.

The sound of a quill scratching away on parchment within the king's study ceased abruptly, but not even the anticipation of a quiet, intimate talk with him could lift my spirits. Not after the news I'd had that morning.

The swish of a cloak being removed was followed by unhurried footsteps toward the balcony, and then he was there beside me. The King of the Woodland Realm stood less than a few feet from me in all his finery, save the little circlet that usually rested upon his brow. He tended not to wear it when he retired to his chambers for the evening, choosing instead to lay it atop a book of poetry which resided permanently on his desk.

"On a lovely, cloudless night such as this, what cause would a newly-engaged lady have to look so forlorn?" The smooth, regal voice of my liege met my ears, and under any other circumstances, I might have scrambled to my feet to bow before him, as was his due. All I could muster, however, was a quiet, sincere apology over my shoulder as I remained seated on the balcony. I could feel his keen, pale blue eyes on me as I set my bow aside and let out a heavy sigh. "Oh, dear. Is he that repulsive?"

"Not physically, but...all he seems to see is himself. I am perfectly aware that the betrothal wasn't either of our choices, but he could at least pretend that he's interested when our parents are nowhere to be seen." I was aware that I sounded ungrateful, but just because I was a mortal woman in a realm of Elves didn't mean that I had to like it when I was constantly looked down upon by others.

One of the few people who never gave me the impression that he thought less of me took a seat beside me in robes much too elegant for anything less than a perfectly padded chair to touch.

"Have you spoken with your guardian - apologies, your father - about your fears?" Instead of sounding judgmental, Thranduil's voice held only softness - a rarity, to be sure, but such a tone was more common when he conversed with me than with anyone else. I nodded my head as I recalled the cold aloofness in my adoptive father's voice as he'd dismissed both me and my protests.

"He seemed more concerned with maintaining the status associated with his name than with some silly little mortal's concerns." I tried to keep the bitterness out of my voice, I really did, but the sharp edge that crept in made me cringe a bit. "After all, who am I to complain when he took me in? My life could have been over before it had even truly begun. He could just as easily have left me to die in the ruins of our burning village and adopted an Elfling instead. I...owe him for all that he has done."

One of Thranduil's hands rested lightly on my shoulder, coaxing me to face him. My eyes met his, and his free hand laid over my wrist. The warm weight of his palm covering my pulse made my heart flutter in my chest.

"Is that what he told you?" When I stammered about it being nothing more than the truth, he shook his head while stormclouds gathered in his expression. "What foul words of comfort from one who claims to care for you."

To that, I had no response. Naturally, several statements sprung to the tip of my tongue - defenses for my father's actions - but I swallowed them all down when my king's gaze warned me that he would tolerate no such excuses.

"Remind me, mellon-nin, how long have you served in my guard?"

"Twelve years and a few months, sire."

"And in all of our many conversations, have I ever given you any reason to doubt that I value you as highly as any other in my kingdom? After that first fortnight, when you were terrified of making a mistake, have you ever felt out of place because of your mortality?"

The memory of that fateful night drew a smile to my lips.

"No, mellon-nin. That rather thorough tongue-lashing you meted out made your stance quite clear to all in the palace," I murmured allowing myself the small liberty of turning my hand beneath his and threading our fingers together.

The guards he'd berated for their rudeness and bigotry had practically fled the throne room when he was finished with them. After that night, he'd ordered that whenever I was on duty, I would be assigned to his personal detail.

"Then, what cause have you to believe that I would tolerate anyone treating you so poorly anywhere else in my domain?"

"This is different–"

"How? Enlighten me," the king ordered giving my fingers a gentle squeeze.

"Father has the right to demand that I repay him for the time he has spent on me," I hedged, but Thranduil shook his head.

"Just because he raised you, that does not mean that he was unaware of what he was choosing. He may not have known the full extent of the demands made of a parent, but that was not the fault of the innocent babe he rescued." He sounded so calm, so casual about his assertions that I could do no more than blink as he spoke. "I do not expect Legolas to sacrifice his happiness to satisfy some imagined debt incurred at his birth, nor should your guardian make such ludicrous demands of you."

We sat quietly for a moment, side-by-side and hand-in-hand beneath the moonlight before words began flowing from my mouth almost without my consent.

"He's an ass, you know, the man to whom I have been promised. Nothing brings him greater pleasure than a mirror, and nothing strains him more than remembering a preference held by someone other than himself," I murmured feeling as though this confession of my unkind thoughts about the Ellon would give me some measure of comfort beyond another's commiseration. "Six different times he has insisted that he knows my favorite flower, and six times have I received something completely different. He claims that I keep changing my answer, but, truly, I have given the same response every time."

"He chooses not to listen," Thranduil muttered almost to himself.

"Quite correct, aran-nin. He is dismissive...practically ignores me when we are in the same room..."

"Had he been listening, he undoubtedly would have heard your scathingly pointed sighs, not unlike those which you direct toward any who insult your king in the throne room," he teased, and a huff of laughter bubbled out of me. "I shall have you know that I enjoy those little sighs. They convey a great deal about the receiver's lack of intelligence and manners, whilst simultaneously broadcasting that you would like nothing more than to drag them from the gates by the scruff of their neck. Quite effective, do you not agree?"

"Oh, yes, mellon. As I recall, you've allowed me to do just that on several occasions," I said glancing over at him. The answering sparkle in his eyes coupled with the wicked little smirk adorning his lips made my heart thud faster in my chest.

"And I reveled in every second of their humiliation at your beautiful hands," Thranduil practically purred in satisfaction at the memories, but I sobered rather quickly as I recalled the reason I was so down in the first place. He must've seen my smile slip. "Forgive me, I was certain that you enjoyed dragging witless rats from my sight...?"

"I do...rather, I did." The correction was small, but he pounced upon it immediately. The hand that had been on my shoulder grasped my chin and forced me to look back up at him. He didn't need to say a word. The question floated between us unasked, yet requiring an answer. "My betrothed made it clear that he believed a guard was no proper wife. He has demanded that I resign my position here."

More seriously than he had all night, Thranduil gazed into my eyes.

"Is that what you want? Do you wish to give up the station you fought so hard to attain for a man who cannot remember even the simplest of things about you?" I shook my head as hot, desperate tears filled my eyes. "Then tell me, what do you want? What desires fill your mind when you allow yourself to dream under cover of darkness?"

I most certainly could not give him the whole truth. I couldn't tell him that over the course of our acquaintance and friendship I had fallen in love with him. Nothing could ever come of my pathetic heartache. I was only a guard. A peasant. Peasants might fall in love with royalty, but they did not end up with them. That was not the way of the world.

"Love," I breathed instead. "I want to be loved for myself, not my father's position. I wish to be cared for and to care for another. I wish to remain a guard, a warrior for the Woodland Realm, and to be accepted as I am, not swept aside. Obviously, I am not without fault, but while I attempt to grow wiser and gain experience, I do not wish to be impeded or judged by someone who could never remember even the most basic facts about me. I...What I want is impossible."

A small, gentle smile crossed the king's lips, and an intense, burning desire to kiss him fought a war within me against my common sense. Thranduil could forgive much, but a lapse in judgment as severe as throwing myself at him? Never.

"Your presence here is proof that nothing is impossible. You are much easier to love than you have allowed yourself to believe." His deep, rumbling voice sounded at once comforting and sensual, which proved quite effective at helping me blink back my tears before they could even begin to fall. "When are you next due to meet with this unworthy cad?"

"Tomorrow. My father has invited both he and his parents to our home for the evening meal as it is my day without a shift." I was surprised at how steady my voice sounded after how vulnerable I'd just been. Strangely, though, I felt no shame in having allowed my friend to see my pain.

King Thranduil nodded his head pensively, brushing his thumb over my chin as he did so - why had he not yet released his grip? Not that I was going to complain, of course. Being this close to him, touching him, speaking with him in confidence...that was as close as I was ever going to get to him, and even that might soon be pulled from my grasp, so I savored every moment that I was afforded.

Neither of us had much more to say. Instead, the Elvenking slipped an arm around my waist and tugged me close enough to his side for me to lay my head on his shoulder. We sat in companionable silence until the time came for the guard change. Bidding me sweet dreams and a safe trip home, Thranduil dropped a soft kiss onto my hand and retreated back inside his rooms.

As usual, the guard who was to replace me gave me a raised eyebrow at my familiarity with someone so far above my station, and, as usual, I ignored him.

Sneaking to the stables on my way out, I plucked an apple from my coat pocket and headed to the gilded gates of the stall holding the king's mount. Slicing the fruit quickly in half with my dagger to delay my return home by a few extra seconds, I cooed gently to the large elk, stroking the soft fur on his muzzle as I offered him the treat.

"Who's a good boy? Hm? You are! Yes, you are," I praised as he gingerly bit into the first half of the bright red fruit, then the second. He was a gentle giant, in truth. Much of the kingdom supposed that he would be as prickly as his rider, but nothing could be further from reality. Firstly, the king was only short with those who deserved his ire. Secondly, the admittedly imposing elk upon which he rode hadn't a mean bone in his very large body. "Aww, you're never grumpy with me, are you, mellon-nin?"

He chuffed and snuffled, nuzzling gratefully into my caressing fingers as a 'thank you' for his treat. Even he would be a far superior companion for life than the idiot with whom I'd be forced to spend yet another pointless evening the next day...and perhaps the rest of my life.

"Don't worry, mellon, even if he makes me resign, I'll still find a way to sneak in and bring you extra apples." The pleased little snort he gave me drew a giggle from my lips, but I knew that soon the guard patrolling this section of the grounds would be here. I bid goodnight to my tall, fur-covered friend and set off on the path toward home with our secret intact.

Had I so much as bothered to glance back, I would've seen a familiar head of bright blond hair watching as I tugged the hood of my cloak over my head.

--

When I awoke the next day, it was still early morning. The lateness of my shift usually tired me out well enough that I slept for at least another hour or two, but after a few bleary blinks, I realized that I'd been awakened by voices.

Odd. My adoptive father did not usually entertain guests at this hour. Either something had happened, or today was destined to turn out rather strangely. As he hadn't bothered to come wake me, I gathered that there was no urgency in whatever had transpired. What was not in question, however, was the way my stomach growled as I tried to roll over and go back to sleep.

With a sigh of defeat, I climbed out of bed and dressed, even going so far as to tie my hair back in a quick braid since it looked as though it might rain. Thus, clothed and presentable, I cleaned my teeth and ventured from my bedroom in search of food.

The voices seemed to be coming from my destination, so it seemed as though I would get both sustenance and an answer to my curiosity all at the same time. A fortuitous turn for such a gray morning.

"...ere she is now." I was able to make out my father's voice as I intentionally stepped on the creaky board in the hallway. I wasn't as quiet as an Elf when I walked, but I still didn't like to appear as though I was eavesdropping or sneaking where I shouldn't be. When I stepped into the kitchen, I froze.

There in all his regal, perfectly-groomed glory was King Thranduil, sitting at our tiny wooden table.

What in the name of the Valar was the king doing in our kitchen?

"Aran-nin," I greeted him, bowing slightly less steadily than I might have if I'd been awake for more than a few minutes. A low, velvety chuckle floated around the space.

"Come now, meleth, you know there is no need for such formality," Thranduil crooned giving me a charming, mischievous smile as I straightened again, but that statement alone nearly shattered my poor tired mind.

He'd said 'meleth,' but...that meant 'love.' He'd never called me that before. And I still didn't know why he was in our kitchen.

Glancing between my king and my father, I tried silently to piece together what the hell was going on here. Thranduil must have seen my lack of progress in my eyes, because he continued as if this was all completely normal.

"Come, break your fast. Your guardian has been kind enough to make tea and lay out some provisions for us," he said standing and pulling out the chair directly beside him.

Almost without thinking, I did as he asked, and my heart thudded rapidly in my chest when he seated me as if we were at some lavish feast instead of around our small, wooden table. He acknowledged my hastily-murmured gratitude, then resumed his own seat with his usual flourish. The three of us ate quietly for a few moments, staunchly ignoring the fact that the king was in our tiny kitchen eating with us as casually as if he had always done so.

It was...pleasant. Strange, obviously, but much more enjoyable than my usual solitary morning meal.

"So, meleth-nin, would you like to tell him the good news, or should I?" Thranduil asked, and I looked up at him. Slightly more cognizant than before, I recognized the glint in his eyes that usually accompanied a desire for me to play along with whatever he said next. I could do that.

"I'm quite certain that it would be much more eloquent coming from you," I demurred, and I very pointedly avoided looking across the table at my father's reaction to whatever bit of theater my king had orchestrated. Less than a heartbeat later, I found my free hand firmly in Thranduil's grasp as he looked at my father.

"The betrothal you arranged for your ward is hereby declared invalid by order of the king," he said, and the stunned expression on my father's face was worth every moment of confusion I'd experienced that morning. He took a moment to gather himself before clearing his throat and looking between us in askance.

"If it is not too presumptuous, sire, may I ask why you have done this? Her betrothal to–"

"That engagement was no more than a farce. We meant to announce it earlier, but with how busy I've been attending to my royal duties, I fear I have been remiss." The king cut him off, and the indignation in my father's eyes gave me a sick sort of pleasure. "You see, your ward is not available for the suitor you preferred, because she has already accepted my own marriage proposal."

Oh. So, that was what he had in mind. A faux betrothal. Somehow, that was both intensely flattering and a knife to my chest.

The announcement worked to perfection, though. My father looked as though he'd been punched soundly in the face.

"You...?" He blinked and made a second attempt at speech. "Why would a king want her?"

Thranduil's head tilted in a manner I recognized as indicative of the imminent rise of his temper.

"Why does a king desire anything? Tell me, why should a king not desire a worthy queen for his realm?" He asked, and my father caught up rather rapidly with the realization that he'd said the wrong thing. Thranduil looked back over at me as he lifted my hand to his lips. "Why should an Ellon not marry the one whom he loves?"

Ow. Those were the exact words I'd longed to hear from him for so many years, but to hear them now knowing that they were all an act...

"And why should I not wish to marry the Elf with whom I have grown so close over my many years of guard duty?" How far he intended to carry this fiction, I didn't know, but I could play along for now. I could hide the pain.

"I...Congratulations," my father stammered hesitantly, but he was no longer relevant. Not now.

"Thank you," the king said without taking his eyes off of me. "Meleth, I believe it is time for you to live in the palace. It will be your home once we are married, and if you are prepared, I can take you back with me. My mount is outside."

"Of course, but I shall need a few moments to pack–"

"Nonsense. You needn't do such menial work. You are to be my queen. I have already arranged for your belongings to be brought to you this evening. For now, you need only bring yourself and a riding cloak," he insisted with a warm smile.

"Might it not be simpler, my king, if I were to save you the trouble of taking her with you? I could escort her to the palace myself this evening so that you needn't be burdened by sharing your mount," my father said, and the blush that sent my cheeks burning at the thought of the pair of us riding together atop his elk was automatic. No acting required.

I prayed that Thranduil was unaware of how drastically he affected me, even within my own imagination.

"Bringing my queen to the palace is my responsibility and privilege. And, if you shall forgive me for saying so aloud outside of the solitude of our marital chambers, meleth-nin, I view the opportunity to feel you in my arms with great anticipation," the king said turning my hand over gently and placing a slow, sensual kiss right over my racing pulse. My breath caught in my throat at the hunger in his eyes. His lips lingered a few beats longer than I expected, only pulling away when my father cleared his throat pointedly. "My apologies. In the presence of such beauty, I find that I am transported into the realm of fantasy."

Thranduil's words did not match his expression. He was an Ellon who found vast satisfaction in playing those around him like an orchestra. He wasn't sorry at all.

"As much as I adore seeing you like this, my darling king, I do hope you will be more discreet while holding court," I teased, but his smirk only grew.

"When my queen is so breathtaking? Never." If it wasn't for the disgustingly sexy wink he tossed me, I'd have thought he was laying his act on a bit thick. As it was, though, he seemed to be staying in character quite effortlessly. For my part, I was one shaky breath away from giggling like a brainless idiot, or bursting out in tears because of the simple fact that this was all an act.

Ducking my head in what I hoped was a passable semblance of bashfulness, I tried to steady my breathing.

"I...trust that you still plan to give up your position in the guard?" My eyes flicked up and met my father's. There was something in his expression - disbelief, confusion, suspicion - that I couldn't quite place.

His obvious lack of trust after all these years angered me.

With the sweetest smile that I could muster, I tilted my head curiously.

"Not at all. A queen must be willing to fight for - and alongside - her people if she expects them to fight for her in return. Loyalty must be earned; it is not a gift to which one is entitled." Thranduil gave my fingers a gentle, supportive squeeze. "Surely, after your many years as a warrior, you of all people understand how crucial it is to inspire loyalty in those whom you command?"

He couldn't protest. When Thranduil said nothing, giving him neither a change of subject nor an opportunity to dodge the question, my father stammered about his question being a foolish one and about the change in suitors being so sudden.

Almost as soon as we stepped outside, the king's elk snuffled happily. He walked over to us, but to my surprise, instead of vying for Thranduil's attention, he made a beeline for me. Without thought, I patted his muzzle and ran my fingers down his neck. Snuffling lower, as if he knew I usually kept his apples in my pockets, he looked at me expectantly.

"Oh, I'm sorry, mellon, I don't hav–" I was silenced by a large, gentle hand landing on my shoulder.

In my king's grasp was a bright, ripe, red apple. The same kind I usually smuggled out of the larder as a treat for my furry friend. He'd already sliced it in half - when had he even found the time?

"Thank you, but how did you...?"

"Nothing happens in my realm but I know of it," he whispered, the warmth of his breath ghosting over my scalp.

Choosing to temporarily ignore the implications of his statement, I accepted the apple and fed it to his elk. After a moment, Thranduil moved nearly soundlessly back toward my father.

"Ah, before I forget, this is for your ward's former suitor," he said pulling an envelope with the royal seal from his pocket. "Please convey to him that if the contents raise more questions than answers, he is most welcome to see the palace healers about his obviously failing memory."

With his cloak swishing behind him, Thranduil swept back over to me and helped me onto his mount's back. Once he was seated behind me with an arm wrapped firmly around my middle, it all sank in.

This might be an act for my father, but this was happening. I was really riding toward the palace with my king's chest pressing against my back. The guards who manned the gate would see us. Any who encountered us would bear witness to the king's act. How far did he mean to take this?

Surely, he wouldn't actually marry me just to get me away from one unsuitable Ellon? And when he did eventually end this ruse, what then? Would I be forced to go home with my tail tucked between my legs?

When we were around the halfway point in our journey - far enough from both my home and the palace that I was certain we wouldn't be observed - I asked if we could stop for a moment. Despite his confusion, Thranduil gave the command, and his elk trotted to a graceful stop. Without waiting for assistance, I slid off the saddle and landed rather hard on my feet.

Ignoring the new pain in my ankles and the ache that the loss of Thranduil's steadying grip left in my chest, I took a few steps and tried to slow my breathing. The sound of my traveling companion landing infinitely more gently than I had met my ears along with a concerned call of my name, but I just shook my head.

"Are you hurt, meleth?" He asked, and I swallowed heavily.

"No, but...my king–"

"You are perfectly allowed to call me by my name. After all, we are betrothed. It would not do for our subjects to see us behaving as if no love exists between us," he said as he patted his elk's neck, and a pang of hurt wound through my heart. Thranduil was saying all the right words, but it was an act. There were no longer any witnesses. There was no longer anyone to watch as my heart broke.

"Why are you doing this?" At the pain in my voice, confusion and concern washed over his features.

"Whatever do you mean?" The Elvenking asked stepping away from his elk's side. His cloak billowed around him, and it was all I could do not to drop to my knees at the sheer majesty of the figure he presented. All it did, though, was reinforce what I already knew: Thranduil was not for me.

"Please, do not misunderstand, I am grateful that you have saved me from such an unfortunate match. However, you needn't spare my feelings by pretending to love me. There is no need to waste your precious time playacting, mellon-nin."

"'Pretending'?" The word escaped him as a harsh, dangerous whisper. Oh dear. I'd seen the king's rage before, but never had his icy fury been turned upon me. Despite the outrage in his tone, his next words were at the same hushed volume as before. "'Playacting'? What do you take me for?"

I could see why Prince Legolas had insisted that raised voices were preferable to the fear that his father's cool, piercing anger inspired. I wasn't afraid, but I was acutely aware of the severity of his emotions. I wasn't intentionally trying to anger him, but I needed him to know how close he'd come to breaking me beyond repair. Before I could answer, he advanced another step and continued.

"And, pray tell, what am I, in your estimation? Cruel? Unforgiving? Demanding? Judgmental?" His eyes flashed with something akin to pain. "Perhaps your censure is not based upon personality, but upon appearance."

The glamour he kept constantly in place over his scar melted away.

"Is this the source of your misgivings? Am I too ugly for you to accept, even as a king?"

"You know that's not true," I snapped, with an edge of warning in my voice, recalling the first time I'd seen him without the glamour.

A few months after my appointment to the king's guard, I was given a jar of pain-dulling ointment by one of the healers to pass on to the king. I'd delivered it, of course, but when I'd been hesitant to leave him, going so far as to ask if he was injured, he'd locked the door and showed me what the great serpents of the north had done to him. Thranduil admitted later that he'd intended to frighten me that night, but all I'd done was ask if he needed help applying the medicine. Once he realized I thought no less of him for his injury, he'd let me.

Yet he had the gall to stand before me and accuse me of being shallow? Had he learned nothing about me over the years?

"Then answer the question," Thranduil bit out quietly. "What exactly do you take me for?"

"A king," I breathed looking up into his eyes. Confusion mingled with his anger. "Peasants may fall in love with royalty, but they are not offered the luxury of marrying them. Kings do not give lowly guards a second thought, even if they afford them the title of 'friend,' so I will ask you again, sire: Why are you doing this? Why are you acting as though hope abounds for my doomed heart where none has ever existed?"

His brow smoothed, his lips parted a fraction, and his glamour slipped silently back into place as he processed what I'd said. Oh, Valar, what I'd said! I'd confessed to loving the king!

Comprehension melted his anger away into nothingness. Instead, he moved within a single step of me, lifting one of his large, graceful hands to caress my cheek.

"You truly do not know?" I couldn't even bring myself to answer as I leaned into Thranduil's touch. This might be the last chance to do so after what I'd just admitted. He'd dismissed guards in the past for much less severe transgressions. "When we spoke last night, you told me that you desired to be loved - not by the whole of the Woodland Realm as I believe you deserve, but by one person. The Ellon your father chose for you certainly could not do that when remembering something as small as your favorite flower caused him such strain."

Low and gentle, his voice trickled over my ears as smoothly as honey. He...He didn't sound angry, anymore. Why wasn't he enraged that someone like me had dared to cross the more-than-generous boundary of friendship that he'd allowed me?

"My king–"

"Thandruil," he corrected, but there was no real bite to his words despite having to repeat himself again. He never repeated himself, yet this morning alone he'd done so twice. "You adore the blue wildflowers that grow along our western borders, but if you smell them for too long, they make you sneeze. During the summer, you set them on the sill in your room and keep the window open so that you might enjoy them without discomfort."

I blinked in surprise. I could vaguely remember a conversation years ago where I'd mentioned the flowers, but it was such a trivial thing that I was quite certain it would've been forgotten by morning. After all, what I did with flowers had no bearing on the fate of the kingdom.

"You prefer your tea sweet but not overly so. When you believe it might rain, you take the precaution of braiding your hair so that the humidity will not render it impossible to untangle when you return home."

The Elvenking began slowly, allowing each small fact that he'd observed about me to sink in along with the realization that he'd favored me with his attention frequently enough to accrue them.

"Your confidence with daggers is low, but with a bow, you are as bold and graceful as any skilled Elleth warrior. When I express my anger at some wretched fool in my court, you often struggle to suppress your laughter at how close they come to wetting themselves in the throne room - do not deny it. Your body gives you away each and every time."

Had he truly seen so much of me during my service to him?

"When your temper is tested, there is a small line that appears just here," he touched a spot between my brows, "that brings me great consternation. On the one hand, I wish to give you my sword so that you may more easily remove the head of whomever has dared incur your wrath, but on the other, I wish to soothe your frustrations with my words, my lips, my body, whatever you will allow–"

"Thranduil–" His name fell from me as no more than a whisper. The leaves on the trees surrounding the path rustled in the breeze, but the Elvenking could not be stopped.

"Your free time is often spent reading. Once a week before you return home, you sneak out to the stables and feed my elk an extra apple, because you find him sweet-tempered. When you laugh, your eyes sparkle brighter than any star ever could, and you steal the breath from my chest each time you look at me."

My vision blurred, and only when my king's thumbs brushed tears from my cheeks did I realize that I was crying. I'd loved him for so long that this felt as surreal as a dream.

"You said that you wish to be loved, meleth-nin. To answer your question, I am doing this because I can give you exactly what you desire. I could love you with my eyes closed, because I have done so with them open since the day you were assigned to my guard."

Thranduil leaned closer, freezing but a hair's breadth from my lips.

"If you do not feel the same, we can remain friends, but if there is the slightest chance that you could find happiness by my side, then marry me. Be my queen. I am yours." His whispered promise was filled with so much tenderness and hope that my restraint snapped, and I closed the distance between our mouths.

My fingers gripped his robes in an attempt to ground myself, but this heady feeling of being wanted - being loved - robbed me of all coherent thought. There was only the feeling of gentle hands drawing me close by my waist and the nape of my neck. Only soft lips kissing me with the skill of thousands of years' worth of experience. Only a king claiming his queen's heart.

There was only love.

~*~

mellon-nin = my friend

aran-nin = my king

meleth-nin = my love

[the-badger-mole]

Duty, Honor and Love

Zuko paced the room, stopping every so often to let out a string of swears and kick something. Iroh watched his nephew in equal parts concern and amusement. It was the amusement that bugged Zuko the most.

"Do you think this is funny?" he demanded, rounding on his uncle. "They are telling me I have to choose between my throne and...and...reaughhh!!!!" Zuko shouted in aggravation and kicked his desk. A long crack appeared in the side, which Iroh noted with some consternation.

"I promise, I am not laughing at your situation," Iroh said placidly. "I don't find that at all funny."

"Then why are you smirking at me?" Zuko glowered at the older man, feeling moments away from knocking the teacup out of his hand.

"After all these years, the lessons I've tried to teach you about diplomacy still haven't stuck." Iroh sighed and shook his head. "If I am amused, it's only because I'm reminded of you at a younger age, and I'm remembering those days fondly."

"Why do you always have to be so...so mellow?" Zuko threw his hands up and resumed his pacing. "Do you understand they're trying to force me to choose between my people and the one person I don't want to live without? I've had to fight for every inch of ground I've gained since I took the throne, and now the one choice that should be mine. Completely mine! They say that it's not possible? That I can't do what I want? It's my personal life. And it's not even like-"

"Not like what?" Iroh pressed. Zuko shot him a mutinous scowl, and Iroh was reminded of his nephew, ten years younger, and still not ready to hear the truth about his "honor restoring mission". It was a flicker, though, and gone almost as soon as it had come. Iroh was Zuko's best ally, and they both knew it. Zuko sighed and sank down into the chair across from his uncle.

"The role of the royal consort hasn't been more than symbolic in generations," Zuko said. "Not since well before grandfather Sozin's reign. I know I can't keep Katara from making her mark, but they don't know that. For all they know, she's planning on being like the consorts before her. Quiet, demure, unobtrusive-"

Iroh couldn't stop the peal of laughter that burst from him if he wanted to. And he most certainly did not want to. His stomach had begun to ache before he could gather himself and meet his nephew's petulant glare.

"Please forgive me, Fire Lord Zuko," he said, wiping his eyes. "It's just I think you give your council far too little credit. I doubt anyone who's spent more than half an hour with Master Katara would think that she would be a quiet and demure Fire Lady. She is not one to fade into her husband's shadow, no matter how powerful he is. And anyone who's spent more than half an hour with you would know better than to expect you would ever allow that."

Zuko groaned and let his head roll back against his chair. He knew Iroh was right. He knew his council saw how often he would defer to Katara, especially on matters she was passionate about, like education, health and foreign affairs. He loved her for himself, but he also loved her for his people. But the idiots who served on his council were too concerned with how the other nobles (who'd only just kept their titles by the skin of their teeth) would feel about her with a crown on her head than what the rest of the citizens would feel about Katara on the throne (and he knew for a fact that at least a handful of villages already considered her some sort of saint. One of them had built a statue of the Painted Lady with Katara's face). His citizens would grow to love her, he knew, regardless of what his councilors thought. And yet, they had given him this ultimatum.

"I can't abdicate," Zuko said, finally. "But I can't lose Katara, either." Iroh sat quietly for a long moment. He poured himself another cup of tea.

"Is this your way of asking for my help?" he asked. His face was serious, but mirth sparkled in his eyes. It pissed Zuko off endlessly, but he knew he had no other choice.

"Yes, Uncle," he sighed. "I'm asking you to help me find a way for me to be able to stay with Katara and not abdicate my throne. And do not even think the word concubine. Advisor Wong suggested it in front of Katara, and she nearly castrated him. And then I got an earful for not "shooting the idea down fast enough" even though I was just gathering my thoughts." Zuko shook his head at the memory with a mix of amusement and exasperation.

"I wouldn't dream of it," Iroh chuckled. "I have managed to stay off of Katara's bad side, and I intend to continue that. Besides, i can't imagine a better co-ruler for you than her. No, I have something much less....complicated in mind."

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

Iroh had gone over his plan with Zuko several times. It had made sense in the comfort of his private office, without the weight of his council's eyes on him, but now, Zuko was less certain. Katara was not here today. She had no idea this meeting was even happening. This, Iroh had assured him, was for the best. Zuko wasn't sure that Katara would see it that way, but he figured his uncle could take the heat for it, should she be upset about it later on. Right now, Zuko was content to let Iroh take the lead here. Midway through the meeting, once the other business for the day had been discussed, Zuko gave General Iroh the floor.

"Gentlemen," Iroh said, gravely. "We have an issue to discuss." The council members, the majority of whom had a deeply rooted respect for Iroh, leaned forward anxiously. He took a heavy breath and clasped his hands together. It was all very dramatic, Zuko thought, but made no attempt to speed the proceeding along.

"A very serious issue, indeed," Iroh continued. "As you know, I have some ties with several leaders from around the Earth Kingdom and Water Tribes." Acknowledgement rippled through the room. Iroh waited until everyone grew silent again to continue.

"Has something gone wrong?"

"No," Iroh said, slowly, with less finality than anyone found comforting. "Not as such. There is no immediate danger, except perhaps...financial." If Iroh had failed to get everyone's attention before, he certainly had it all now. Zuko watched his councilors closely, biting back a smirk. Iroh had said the magic word. The bait had been taken. Now he just had to reel them in.

"As you know," Iroh continued, "there are several trade agreements- things that the Fire Nation must rely on to be imported from the Earth Kingdom- like their metal goods, and building supplies. The Northern Water Tribe has been negotiating on sending us healers to help get our hospitals off the ground, and the Southern Tribe, as you know, has recently begun trading raw oil, something we need to help move our own industry along.

"And what is the issue?" a councilor demanded. "Are we not paying enough for these goods? Are we not treating the Northern healers like royalty?"

"We are," Iroh agreed. "But there have also been complaints about the exchange-" his gaze hardened and landed on a select few, "-and they have not been discreet enough for some very important people to ignore. There have been some concerns voiced that the Fire Nation is still too insular for comfort. There are those who fear that the Fire Lord is in danger of being cut off from the concerns of those who this country not only relies on, but owes a great deal to in terms of reparations."

"What would you have us do?" another councilor demanded. "Are our treaties and trade agreements not enough?" Iroh regarded the man with a placid smile.

"I begin to fear they are not," he said. "And can you blame them? After all, before Sozin began his war, the Fire Nation had had treaties and agreements with all the nations. Now, Fire Lord Zuko has proven his willingness to deal fairly with the other nations-" this set off a round of grumbling at Zuko's idea of fair, but Iroh ignored it "-but the they are still understandably skittish."

"What do you suggest then? Don't speak around the issue, tell us what your plan is!"

"I suggest," Iroh said slowly, "a closer tie than mere paper. A marriage contract with a proper match would put the rest of the world at ease about the Fire Nation's continued insularity."

"And let me guess," the room spun toward Advisor Wong, who sneered at Iroh from his seat at the opposite end of the table, "is Master Katara the right choice?" Zuko bristled at the man's mocking tone. He would've said something then- something hasty, and inflammatory that he probably would've regretted later- but Iroh stayed him with a hand on his forearm.

"I believe so, yes," Iroh said, meeting Wong with his same benign smile. "After all, she is not only Chief Hakoda's daughter, Master Pakku's granddaughter, and the Avatar's guardian, she also has the ear of King Bumi, King Kuei and is an honorary member of the Foggy Swamp Tribe's council. Not to mention how much support she's gained amongst the citizens of the Fire Nation. I'm sure you've heard about the statue in Jang Hui." The room fell silent. Iroh looked from one advisor to another. A few of them looked disgruntled, but many of them seemed to be taking their time considering Iroh's words.

"We have to think of the future," someone said. "Suppose she has no firebending heirs for our Fire Lord. What then?"

"We've had non-bending rulers," Iroh pointed out. "Some of our best, in fact, had no firebending. It's never been an official requirement for taking the throne, though it has been preferred, especially recently."

"What if all her children are waterbenders?" someone else asked boldly. "A non-bender on the throne is one thing, but a waterbender?"

Iroh had diplomacy down to an art. Zuko sat in awe of his uncle. Every argument that had come up Iroh had been prepared for. This particular concern was one that Zuko had himself brought up. After all, this hypothetical waterbending heir to the throne would be Zuko's child, too. He would die rather than see his son or daughter fight the way he'd had to for his birthright. Iroh's solution to that was... scary to say the least.

"Do you love Katara?" Iroh had asked Zuko.

"Of course, I do!" Zuko replied without hesitation. "And I already know I'll love our children whether they're firebenders or not."

"Then you'll have to accept the possibility of having all waterbenders," Iroh said. "It'll cause a stir to say the least. But you're both young. You'll have many years to figure out how to navigate that particular issue should it come up. And of course, I'll spend my remaining years helping you secure my grandchildren's futures."

"And if it comes up in this meeting?" Zuko pressed.

Iroh had a reputation for being a very wise man. And he was very wise. He was also very shrewd, and very skilled at the complicated dance steps that were required to make it in the Fire Nation's court. No one could fairly call him a liar, but he did on occasion take liberties with the truth.

"Fire is a very powerful element," Iroh said the the councilor who'd raised the question of Zuko's potential waterbending heirs. "As is water, to be sure, but the Fire Lord comes from a long line of powerful benders, and he himself is dragon-touched. The chances of none of Zuko's children being a fire bender is small."

This was a stretch. Thanks to Druk, many in the Fire Nation saw Zuko as especially blessed by Agni and the dragons themselves. There was no real way of letting his subjects know that there was nothing special about his connection to the dragons without giving away the secret of the Sun Warriors, who preferred to remain undisturbed for as long as possible. Still, Iroh's words were enough to make the council think. Zuko watched their faces carefully, and saw one by one as they considered what Iroh had said. In that moment, Zuko didn't care at all which part of Iroh's argument had made the biggest impact. All that mattered were the looks of resignation on his staunchest opponents faces. Even Wong seemed to acknowledge his defeat. After a few moments, one of the councilors asked Zuko and Iroh for some time to discuss the matter.

"Of course you will need the time," Iroh agreed. "I believe that would be wise, don't you, Fire Lord?"

"You can have the rest of the day," Zuko said. His tone was severe, and his face impassive. He declared that day's session over. As he left, he heard Iroh asking a servant to bring up the popular Earth Kingdom drink that had been all the rage in the Fire Nation for the past five years. Coffee would serve as both a reminder of why trade with the Earth Kingdom was so important, and as a stimulant so the councilors would stay up as long as they needed to come to the right conclusion.

"We've done what we can," Iroh said when he caught up to Zuko. "The rest is up to them. I'm sure it will work."

"Just in case," Zuko muttered, "I should ask Katara how she feels about eloping."

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

It didn't take the council as long as Zuko feared to come to a conclusion. The request for an early meeting came to Zuko's suite as soon as he was awake, and he and Iroh reconvened with the council just after breakfast. Iroh's points had won out, and while Zuko's council didn't quite demand that he marry Katara, they had put up much less of a fight than Zuko had prepared for. They conceded to Zuko's greatest desire, and gave him their blessing to ask Katara's hand in marriage. He didn't have the heart to tell him they'd been engaged for nearly two months already.

[stuckinapril]

how to feel like a person?

digital detox. if your phone was taken away, how much free time would you have? how empty would your day be? do you have things to do outside of scrolling endlessly on different apps? if you come to the realization that a lot of your time consists of being glued to your screen, you need to start considering incorporating no-phone time blocks into your day. a big part of our daily misery boils down to consuming so many things in 24 hours, to the point that we feel too burned out to do anything else that truly nourishes our body and soul.

establish a routine. discipline is so important for happiness. start out small—schedule your day, get consistent with your skincare routine, take daily walks—and then gradually add more and more things. don’t try to revamp your life all at once. that’s a surefire way to quit altogether. be realistic about your limits, but also push yourself where appropriate so you don’t stay static.

journal. mentalize your feelings. don’t suppress your emotions. be curious about your thought processes and what makes you tick. always be self-compassionate, but hold yourself accountable where it’s due.

start pursuing hobbies. make a list of all the things that interest you and try them out. there are so many things out out there; one of them is bound to stick. don’t go into it with the negative mindset that you know you wouldn’t like doing x and y. some things you might know in your heart are not for you, but don’t rule out possibilities you’re ambivalent about. be open-minded and see finding your interests not as a chore, but as an exciting prospect.

practice gratitude. this is such a popular advice bc it works. start off your day by listing 3 things you’re grateful for. it’s crazy how so many people don’t realize it’s a blessing to just be alive, when so many people get robbed of their lives so early on. i’m not saying to never shoot for more, but having a foundation of contentment goes a very long way.

have a solid set of friends, but march your own march. you don’t need anybody; you just want them. same thing with friends. friends are good for us because we are a social species, but if one person were to leave your life, it’s not the end of the world. your life is already colorful, filled with so many things you’re doing for yourself—furthering your career, improving on your skills, working on your fitness—that a person leaving shouldn’t be detrimental. never be so dependent on someone you can’t envision a life without them. you need to make your life exciting on your own; you can’t have someone else doing all the heavy lifting for you.

have an abundance mindset. if one thing fails, that just leaves room for something better to take its place. you are always bound to find better. there are 8 billion people in this world. there are countless different possibilities. failure or loss does not mean it’s game over for you.

see pain as a learning experience. true growth spurts do truly come from heartbreak or failure. it teaches us to pick ourselves back up and try again. always have a growth mindset. that relationship didn’t work out? now you know what to avoid for the next relationship. you’re single again? now you get to focus on and learn more about yourself. that friendship ended? at least you won’t waste any more time on someone who doesn’t value having you in their life. you didn’t get that job? that leaves the door open for other possibilities. you didn’t get the score you wanted? now you know what to work on to do better next time.

action-directed things to improve your self-esteem. you can sit in your room all day and tell yourself you’re the best thing since sliced bread and everyone’s obsessed with you, but truly building up your self-esteem comes not only from thinking positive things about yourself, but also acting on them. work on things you care about. work on yourself as a person. love who you are, but also strive for self-improvement. do things that can act as proof—to you—for why you’re worthy. it’s a game changer.

dispense of the victim-of-life mentality. it’s safe to dwell in your misery and keep blaming things on factors out of your control, but where would that get you? it’s just resulting in you expending your energy needlessly. stop seeing life as jumping from tragedy to tragedy. actively fight against your negativity bias. recognize that for every bad thing that happens, 100 good things happen, but we as humans have a tendency of focusing only on the negatives. sort through your emotions, make peace with what happened, but pick yourself up and move on. the most valuable thing we all have on this planet is time. it’s limited and it will come to an end eventually. you don’t want to look back and resent yourself for not simply letting go of things and appreciating what you have around you.

[sanzaibian]

I should have known better.

You know, those highschool cliques ? The jocks, the nerds, the goths and all... Well, even though nowadays they might not be as clear-cut as they once were, I can assure you that they still existed.

You see, I'm a nerd. But when I say nerd, I mean nerd. Like the whole socially awkward, scrawny and ugly kind of nerd. Also the nasally always-right nerd with top notch marks that reminds the teacher he made a mistake kind of nerd. And also the loves DnD, fantasy and niche interests kind of nerd... well, you get what I mean.

Me being such a caricature meant that I was endlessly teased at school, and was senselessly bullied by the jocks. You know, these hot guys with always a girl in their pants, with big muscles and an obsession with looking good.

I hated it, I hated them, and suffered silently through highschool, until I finally saw the other side when I finally went to university. Although my first years were a bit messed up by Covid, when I was in the building actually studying applied chemistry, I finally wasn't bothered. No one was there to tease me, to bully me or anything else. I could finally live in the class without being bothered !

But, in my third year, Ethan, a guy looking like one of those jocks of old switched courses and came in my class.

I was shocked ! These guys are only good for being hot, playing sports, and entering hot girls' pants ! Not for doing some actual intelligent things like applied chemistry !

But he was even more annoying, that Ethan guy. Because he did not only take the courses I took. No, in fact, he was getting better grades than me. He's so good with polymers that he is the one who asks all the questions and corrects the teacher, not me !

So I tried to avoid him as much as I could. Even when he tried to befriend me, I just scoffed at him, sometimes even mumbling that he should go back to the football stadium. I also talked to the few acquaintances that I had made through awkward bumbling at how I felt he was dumb, and perhaps was only extorting some poor nerds for information to regurgitate in class.

And, one day, at lunch, I just had enough. Ethan and the polymer teacher had an intense debate just before the end of the class, a debate that I couldn't follow. My ego was struck, to the point that I just poured my heart out to the poor people sitting with me. I was seeing red, that day, and nothing could have stopped me... not even the fact that Ethan was there a few tables next to me.

I've since then heard that Ethan was very upset after my tirade, as he is always thought to be dumb due to his interest in being in shape and stylish, while at the same time, I was coming back home all happy to finally have given people a piece of my mind.

However, when I woke back up, I felt weird. I felt heavier, less agile and especially more groggy. As if I just couldn’t quite get up. There was also something cold on my chest that I couldn’t quite identify…

So I did the only logical thing and went to the bathroom to wash my face and properly wake up. But when I saw the mirror, I think what I saw woke me up immediately.

The man behind the mirror was not me. It was a jock – a hot one at that – with big muscles, trendy hair, chiseled face and multiple jewelry. Yet, there were still a few things that signaled me I was looking at myself : the jet black hair, the tan skin, the brown eyes and especially those small pimples on my right cheek and on my right… I guess I can call it pec, now.

I stayed in front of the mirror for quite a while, looking at each corner of my reflection. I couldn’t believe it, and after a long while, decided to just eat breakfast and forget everything that happened. It just isn’t possible.

But when I was going to my kitchen I couldn’t stop being reminded of how I changed. From my heavy step to the sound of my new necklace, and from the pecs I saw in the corner of my eyes to the weird feeling I still felt in my head. When finally reaching it, I was surprised when I didn’t go for my usual biscuits but rather for an apple… I must eat healthily, after all !

After finishing eating breakfast, I went to my closet, and rather than going for the button-up I usually wore, I went for a simple white t-shirt, and went for a jacket that I didn’t feel like closing, in addition to my usual jeans – all suspiciously fitting me well.

And with that, I went to university, set on finding who did that to me.

When I arrived, the weird feeling in my head hadn’t lifted, though I was dead set in finding who was responsible. So dead set that I didn’t notice people turning their head at my arrival. Nor my backpack shifting to only being carried by one shoulder.

After a while, I saw my class, and approached them with heavy gait, swinging my torso with every step like a typical jock. However, curses befell upon me when I opened my mouth and greeted my classmate.

“Yo, bro ! Doin’ good ? I just wanted to ask, bro, anything weird happened since yesterday ?”

I was shocked at how I said that, so much that I covered my mouth with my hand. My classmate was similarly shocked, and only shook her head negatively before excusing herself. Why did she flee like that ?

I clicked my tongue before looking at myself. How had this happened ? Why am I doing weird things ? Why am I talking weirdly ? I can think the sophisticated thoughts, yet when I voice them, they are filtered through bro-speech !

As I was melting down, none other than Ethan came in, smiling. Of course it was him, I shouldn’t have given the benefit of the doubt to him ! I have been only graceful and nice to him, and this is how he repays me ? By turning me into this… hot monstrosity ?

As the anger was rising, Ethan lead me to the bathroom, and there explained himself.

“You know, Juan, you’ve been insufferable ever since we started that semester. Always distrusting me, and making others distrust me. I’ve never know why you were always so angry at me, while you treated others with respect… that is, until you went on a rant yesterday.

- You fucker ! Turn me back right now, or you’ll wish you’ve never been born, you son of bitch !” I didn’t quite expect to be this foul-mouthed…

- Hahaha ! No, I’m sorry, but I can’t. It’s already so unexpected that my prayers were answered to, so you turning back ? No can do !

- Bro that’s not fair, I wasn’t bad to you, man ! You were the one being rude on my turf, bruh !

- So funny ! You now sound like one stereotypical jock in addition to looking like one ! I’m sorry, Juan, but nobody will ever take you seriously in a conference If you talk to them like that !” he laughs.

- Bro, just turn me back… I promise I won’t continue, man !

- What didn’t you understand in ‘No can do’, Juan ? the ‘no’ ?”

I roll my eyes, but he’s right… God that fucking angers me. I want to strangle that piece of shit !

“So, Juan, I guess, see you in class, if you even dare enter it…”

On that, he left. That day, I didn’t go to class, spending my time looking for information on what made me turn like that, until, like clockwork, at 5 PM I felt like I needed to go to the gym…

After a few days of searching and not finding anything at all, I decided to abandon the quest to find myself back and to rather learn to live with this new body. With Ethan stubbornly refusing to tell me how he did it and with my searches on internet only yielding weird fetish pages, I knew it was desperate...

I’ve since started to learn to cope with my strange occurrence, though it has absolutely wrecked my life. After having debated a while with the administration to prove I’m myself, I find my grades slipping, especially due to my newfound rudeness that mess up every single oral exam…

But at least, I’m hot now…

================================================

Hello, thank you for reading my small story, I hope it wasn't too bad !

Please do not hesitate to give me feedback - especially as it is the first real time I'm writing fiction in english ^^'

[lizzy019]

𝒲𝒽𝒾𝓈𝓅𝑒𝓇𝓈 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝐸𝓋𝑒𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔.

Soft Dom!Darrel Curtis x Sweet Fem!Reader

cw -> hold the moan, rewarding??, INTIMATE SEX!, body worship, lotus position, light aftercare

Word Count -> 2.9K

I wanna pamper him 😔

Effortless.

The hands of a young man disciplined into a mature adult were doing the dishes while lost within the neverending blimps of his thoughts. A man toughened and moulded into a sculpture of what he is as you watch him with concern.

Poor Darrel hadn’t got a break at all this week.

You watched silently from the dimly lit dining room table as he moved in tune to whatever humming tune was being played from the television. Something of Ponyboy’s, his brain helpfully supplied him.

It didn’t take you long to tip-toe your way beside him, the soft creaks of the old floorboards underneath your feet acting as an alert for him that someone was nearing. Once he managed to tilt his head in your direction, a soft grin formed on his pretty lips. Darry was glad you actually took the time to notice how tired he was despite not ever vociferating that thought.

“Hey sweetie..” He mumbled, gently snatching your chin within his fingers to press a peck to your forehead. How could you look so darn cute with just a hint of colour on your cheeks and a pouty bottom lip? You simply beamed at his little kiss to your hairline, maybe he was okay? No, you couldn’t just assume that and move on! Darrel had grown the ability to store all his stress away in a separate container and hide it when talking to people he loved, even if it leaked sometimes due to it being a bit overfilled.

“D’you want me to do the dishes for you? Maybe you should go rest with Pony and Soda for a bit, maybe even lend Johnny a hand and drive him home since he’s stayin’ with Pony.” You tried so hard to convince him while remaining as subtle as possible. 

You knew very well though, that this Curtis was a tough one to crack.

“You sure? I bet you’re tired too, honey.” He hummed, playing around with a silly strand of your hair that strayed away from the rest of it. You knew this would happen as well, he always managed to scoot away from what you were trying to get at.

“Darrel,” You spoke rather firmly, more than he was used to hearing. “Take a break, go sit down. I’ll handle the dishes, okay? Maybe go take a shower while you’re at it, you deserve to unwind.”

The brown in his eyes seemed to sparkle at your words, you really were some angel sent to Earth just for him. Even if he always tried to push away your kindness to take care of you, it would be a straight lie if he said he didn’t appreciate you helping pay off the monthly bills alongside him.

So without much hesitation, a rare smile graced his face, eyes crinkling happily as he managed to snag you into a hug. It erupted loud laughter from the both of you, and he couldn’t find it in him to let go until you started playfully berating him.

“Get off, get off! Go shower, you smell.” You teased, watching him nod and loosen his grip before he trotted off.

Your new chore of doing the dishes wasn’t actually as bad as you thought it was going to be. Helping someone who did so much for you, it felt like you were finally being useful. The time ticked endlessly, the sound of the aged clock annoying you over time from its duration of noise, but soon enough, the dishes were practically shining!

Darry was now out of the shower, the towel he once used to dry his body now hanging limply around his neck to make sure the water from his hair didn’t drip down and wet his shirt. He popped into the kitchen to grab a beer, specifically the kind Two-Bit and Steve disliked so he had it all to himself before popping it open and heading your way.

“Kitchen is damn near spotless, sweetie.” He chuckled dryly, but smiled rather shyly at you. 

In all honesty, he had to be thankful. You were doing the chores he knew she should’ve been doing, and yet your cute little ass always had to intervene. While he wasn’t complaining, sometimes he found himself being bored doing nothing, or maybe it was just his worker’s mindset.

You smiled pridefully up at him, happy with the work you managed to do in under 20 minutes. Clean dishes, clean counters and emptied garbage bins. Call it a bit overdramatic, but you were genuinely proud of what you had accomplished in that short span of time. 

“I can be a good little housewife once in a while, can I not?” You joked, smiling as he gave a warmer expression at your little playful comment.

“Whatever you say. You’re still the one that manages to leave clothes all over the floor of my bedroom, so I dunno ‘bout that.” He joked back, watching you feign offence at his comment before snickering softly to himself.

How had he gotten so lucky with you?

Soon the clock had reached 10PM, you shooed Pony off to bed since it was a school night. While Soda was allowed to stay up later than Pony, Soda was tired and trotted off not long after Pony had left. Johnny said his goodbyes before leaving, and finally it was just you and Darrel getting your much deserved rest.

Seated on the sofa sharing a cigarette with your dearest, the silence and dim lighting was somehow quite romantic despite your situation. His hand gently squeezing your waist, occasionally passing you the cig to take a drag all while he talked about his day and how tiring it was keeping his brothers in line. You felt nothing but admiration for the fact that he managed to work so hard under such conditions and never suddenly collapse or give up.

“Thank you again for helpin’ with the dishes. Thought that pile would never end, if I’m bein’ honest.” He hummed, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek as he put the nub of useless leftover cigarette onto the small navy ashtray. 

You nodded, smiling up at him with those pretty lips of yours and glowing eyes. Your hands gently pawed at the fabric of his shirt, tugging him just a bit lower for you to snatch a chaste kiss from his lips. Like your little reward, in a way.

Your lips tingled after that, and you giggled to yourself when Darry gave you a playful naughty expression. Soon, the giggles were turned into mild laughter as he grabbed your precious body and slung you over his shoulder, causing you to flail and kick rather helplessly.

“Darry, stop!” You laughed although quietly to not wake anyone up. But Darry didn’t listen to you, simply giving your rear a light slap as he hauled you into his bedroom. The door was shut once he was inside, and he oh so gently placed you onto the cushiony mattress of his.

Darry was grinning happily as you smiled up at him, hands gently rubbing the firm muscle of his shoulders and teasing underneath the fabric of his taut biceps. 

You really didn’t seem to understand how much he loved you, did he?

“Takin’ such good care of me, sweetie. What did I ever do to deserve you?” He hummed against the skin of your neck, peppering the softest kisses to the flesh while his big hands mapped out your precious body.

Every curve, every contour, every dip and bump that he’s come to admire so fully. A man like him, a greaser, an emotionally constipated man like him managed to snag something as precious, as porcelain and gentle as you. He questioned himself every time he woke up with you beside him in his bed. 

You smiled almost bashfully up at him, admiring every feature that laid perfectly on his face. Almond eyes as warm as ever, the slight Greek nose of his and that sharp jawline you wore could cut diamonds. Great heavens, he could have just about anyone with those looks, you thought.

“I dunno.. what did I ever do to deserve you?” You asked so sweetly, so pleasantly as your hands trailed down to gently knead at his triceps.

A groan, deep in pitch, vibrated from within the canal of his throat and falling onto your ear. It didn’t go unheard, and it made you giggle a bit. Poor man was probably so stiff and so tired. 

“Dunno sweetie, but I love you so much. Love you...” He murmured as he gently pressed his lips to yours. So tender, like he was scared he’d hurt you.

The soft kisses were like a balm to your lips, the warm saliva of his mixed with yours as your tongues started to entangle with each other seeming to ease the dryness of your mouth. 

Your fingers found their way into the soft curls of his hair, gently tugging on them for purchase as you practically kissed his lips off. Hungry, voracious almost. You craved him more than just physically. For once, you felt a deep, raging desire. Something that threatened to burn all of your senses with the taste and feel of simply Darrel.

But his lips escaped yours, and you tried oh so hard to get his lips back to yours. They were like a lifeline in a way, the way they breathed life back into the dullness.

But his lips made contact with your jaw, made a trail leading down your neck, suckling colourless marks into your shoulder as his big palms mapped around your body. Exploring you was an adventure he’d never get tired of, the mere touch of your soft flesh made him go crazy.

His hands managed to snag onto the elastic of your pants and panties, teasingly wiggling them off of you until you raised your hips for him to tug them off. Useless fabrics, they didn’t do anything to help him in your moment.

“So pretty, sweetie... Look atchu.” He murmured, mainly to himself but he hoped you heard him too. 

Cooing soft nothings as his hands wandered across your thighs, squeezing the flesh desperately as his kisses lingered along the lines of your collarbone. You were like jelly in his hands, putty even. You gave into his whims, soft moans and breaths escaping your mouth like whispers. 

Before you could even register it, his hands began to gently slide off your top and peel off your bra. But no words of disdain or discontentment for his actions seemed to be voiced. You let it happen. After all, you thought Darry deserved unwrapping you like a gift.

“Listen though, we gotta keep it quiet though, okay? Soda and Pony are in the next room, I really don’t want them to hear us. Last time they heard, Pony kept lookin’ at me funny.” Darry rattled you gently, getting a nod from you as agreement before he continued.

Like walking along an unknown path, Darry was more than happy to trail and trace every part of your body. Like worship, like you were some goddess. It wasn’t long until the tightness in Darry’s pants got uncomfortable, and what kind of man would he be if he couldn’t use what he had to please his beloved? 

Tenderly, his hands travelled away from your body to tend to his own. The ache in his lower abdomen felt like it was threatening to eat his insides, just from how aggravating the pain was. So he unbuckled the black belt he wore and tugged it off only to chuck it off and toss it to the floor with the rest of the unnecessary garments.

Your hands grasped steadily as his hands wandered down to unbutton the zipper of his jeans. You were so ready, you wanted to do it yourself. A man like him needed pampering too, right?

Nimble and flimsy hands managed to snag the zipper down, and you hastily wriggled his jeans down just so they were on the upper part of his thighs. A soft sigh escaped Darry, you presumed it was out of relief for his cock to be free from its tight confines.

Darrel wasted no time getting into a good position. He wanted to see you in your full glory, to see those lovely expressions cross your face or even feel how you’d use his shoulder to muffle the dulcet sounds you’d make. So he chose something comfortable, something that wouldn’t strain his already exhausted legs.

Patient, precise.

He handled you with grace, elegance. There was no need to rush such intimate and gentle moments when he was showing you his utter gratitude towards you.

Your bodies collided, moulded into one as you relished in the warmth emanating from under your flesh. Seeping into one another, your shared warmth spread all through you as Darry eyed you like you were the most precious piece of gold he owned. 

And in a way, you were. 

Gently, he weaved his way into the lovely tightness of that pretty cunt of yours. Rough fingers gripping his own base while he tried oh so hard to gently nudge his reddening tip up into your welcoming core. The little bit of wetness you produced had made it a bit easier, maybe foreplay would’ve made it better.

Ah, but you finally tried to sit yourself down properly onto his lap, trying to fit the fullness of his length into your dripping cunny. What a pretty sight. Nipples hard from the coldness, goosebumps along your arms and legs from him caressing you so gently. In what heaven did the Gods choose to send you to him?

Soft sounds of delight left you both once you fully settled down onto his lap. Darry could feel each little involuntary squeeze, the occasional squirm due to you adjusting to his size. Darry was no small man, he knew this clearly. But... you did make his ego inflate just a bit.

“Shh, I know, sweetie. Gimme a sec, yeah? ‘S gonna feel good, promise.” He hummed into your ear, hands finding the fat of your ass as he scooped it up for some leverage.

And soon enough, with the solid grip he had on your rear, he gently began rocking you. Up and down more than left and right, but regardless he was doing the work and it made you pout a bit. But great heavens, the way his length so perfectly knocked at your cervix and made your insides burn with glee...

Maybe you could allow yourself to let him do the work for a bit, right?

Soft noises escaped you both, grunts and huffs you were unable to silence even if you wished to. Darry was never one for things like bondage, blindfolds, all that junk. Just some real, raw enjoyment with you.

And that’s what he got. Your pussy, unwavering in its joy, didn’t cease to flutter or squeeze around him whenever he knocked at the little g-spot you had. In fact, he quite liked seeing your expression go from neutral to a scrunched eyebrow.

“You like it, sweetie? It’s all for you, take what you need from it. Been so helpful.. little minx in those damn shorts whenever you’re cleaning the livin’ room. Take what you need from me, want you to feel my thanks.” He huffed, ragged breaths causing the sentence to sound breathy and shaky.

You nodded lazily, lethargy making your legs ache but you kept yourself hanging onto him. Hips met his in a needy attempt to get more friction, and Darry happily complied to give you what you wanted. To give you what you needed.

And it wasn’t long after that you found yourself addicted to a rhythm that had your spine trembling and hands seizing onto any flesh of his you could grab. The warm skin helped to ground you, even if it wasn’t exactly what you needed. 

Darry was holding you so tight, resorting from gripping your ass to just simply holding you in a half-hug so he could still move you around. He managed to stuff his head into the crook of your neck, the area clear except for the little bit of natural hair growth on your neck. He had to stop himself from moaning somehow, right?

But he couldn’t hold on for long once he felt the aggressive tightness your cunt was squeezing onto him when you came, he just couldn’t hold on. And soon his cock was pouring out his fresh, fertile seed into your welcoming womb, the obscene noises you both tried to silence finally escaping as heavy breaths and low whimpers.

Good grief, that was a bone-rattling orgasm for you both.

Darry couldn’t pull his face away from your neck, a bit embarrassed for making such kiddy noises just from cumming. But once he finally pulled away to clean himself up and you in the process, that warm smile lining your lips was all he needed to confirm that it didn’t matter.

So like the gentleman he was, Darry gently pulled away from you and laid you back onto his mattress before grabbing some tissues and wiping away the excess mess in between your legs. So gentle, so tender. And once he cleaned himself off too, you both spent the night in each other’s arms.

Silent, but in a good way.

Hopefully no one heard...

[dfortrafalgar]

Just A Little More Time

Law x Fem Reader

Law wants more, and winter break seems like the perfect opportunity. Indeed, he wants more... but not at the cost of your relationship.

A/N: Another bonus chapter for IMLY, the masterlist of which I will link below! I wrote this MONTHS ago and have a second part to follow that I still have to finish. You can definitely read this without reading the entirety of the main fic, but there are parts of this that directly reference IMLY, so there's a potential that these might not make as much sense ;3;

Warnings: Mentions of sex but nothing explicit, hints of past sexual trauma, allusions to medical issues, in general fluff and law being a dork

[IMLY Masterlist]

PLAY IT SAFE!  USE PROTECTION!

Law stared blankly at the bowl of condoms situated outside the student activities office.  A tiny index card placed beneath the pink plastic bin said they were free to take, but the biology undergrad felt beyond awkward reaching into the bowl to grab a few.  Would he even need them?  Everything had been going so well with you that he was worried he was going to jynx himself with every tiny action and idea.  For the first time in his life, he found something he truly, desperately wanted to hold onto.  He had fallen in love… and fallen hard.

Biting back his growing anxiety, and ignoring the off-put stares from students walking by, Law reached into the bowl, grabbed three wrapped condoms, and frantically stuffed them into the pocket of his baggy cargo pants.  He briskly trudged out of the building and began his walk through the brisk winter air across the campus to the dining hall where you promised to meet him.  A light snow was floating through the air, coating the frozen ground with powdery white that crunched beneath his shoes, the salted pavement of the walkways helping with traction.  His heart hammered at the mere thought of seeing you again- you had been so busy with final exams that the two of you had barely been able to spend time together, the pressure mounting even higher as the two of you wrapped up your third year as undergrads.  And although you were only officially dating for about three months, Law was endlessly looking forward to the next time he got to see you.

And he was really counting his blessings.  For the entire two months of winter break, you were staying together in his single dorm on campus.  He didn’t have much of a home to return to, usually choosing to stay with Shachi and Penguin.  You chose not to return home, finding distress in your family life.  And besides, who wouldn’t want to spend the winter cuddling under fluffy blankets with an adorable, nerdy med student?

Law pushed through the doors of the dining hall and proceeded into the expanse of tables and chairs, the same dining hall where he first found his heart racing at the sight of you.  The circumstances recently had been far nicer though, and it turned out his chronic resting-bitch face made for a pretty good bodyguard-type vibe, exactly what you needed to feel safe walking around the open campus of North Blue University.  You were hunched over one of the small tables in the back of the cafeteria, your chin resting against your fist as you flipped through a comic magazine, one that Law had leant you a week prior.  The bio student felt his lips pull into a small smile at the sight.

Sensing his approach, you picked your head up, a broad grin immediately appearing on your face as you stood from your chair and engulfed him in a hug.  A baggy crew-neck sweater adorned with the university’s logo enveloped you, your lavender and vanilla perfume wafting around Law in serene waves.  While he wasn’t ever a fan of PDA, there were so few people in the dining hall that he felt comfortable placing his hands on your waist and dipping you back just enough to reach the soft skin of your neck, peppering a smattering of kisses over your skin before releasing you.  Your bright, airy chuckles made his stomach twist with nervous butterflies.  The condoms in his pants pocket felt like they were lava, oozing and searing through the fabric.

“How was your last final?” you asked excitedly, pulling away from him to gather your things from the table.  You closed the magazine and held it toward him, Law happily accepting it back and tucking it into his backpack.

“It went well, I think.  I’ve never been great with language classes, though,” he muttered back, awkwardly rubbing his neck where the short black hairs reached the top of his spinal cord.

You grinned, almost blinding the man, slinging your own bag over your shoulder and grabbing his hand in yours.  Your fingers intertwined seamlessly.  “I’m sure you did absolutely amazing, you ace every single class you take.”

“I appreciate it,” Law replied, his voice low as he smiled at you, your eyes creased as they adjusted to the outside light.  “How were your’s?”

As quickly as your face beamed upon seeing your boyfriend, it morphed into a disinterested scowl.  “Language was fine.  Math on the other hand…”

“I thought it was an open note exam,” he inquired.

“It was.  The bastard TA decided last minute to make it closed-book.  Didn’t tell anyone until today, when the exam started.”  You were grumbling, stuffing your free hand into the pocket of your coat.  “I swear, the dude sitting next to me looked ready to end it all.  I might have too, but I have too much to look forward to.”

Law’s chest panged.  He knew it was a simple joke, but ever since forming your relationship, seeing you in any state other than happy and content was a health hazard for him.  He squeezed your hand, keeping the skin of your palm warm.  “I’m sure you did fine.  You tried your best, at least.”

“True, that’s all you can ask for, really.”  You stifled a yawn.  “Trying my best.”

The black-haired man’s heart raced more and more while approaching the door to his dorm building with you in tow, the three metallic-wrapped items in his pocket growing more and more scorching the closer he got to his room.  He was convinced he might pass out.  He was wildly regretting the choice to grab them, worried that you would get the wrong idea if you saw them, thinking he’d be pressuring you into something you weren’t ready for, thinking that this entire two-month relationship was nothing more than–

“Law?”

Your delicate voice broke him from his anxious spiral.  When did the two of you get into the elevator?

You were staring up at him, large eyes creased in concern.  “You look really nervous.  Are you alright?”

He gulped.  “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?  I can just go back to my own room if you’re suddenly not feeling well, I still have some things I have to pack up,” you offered.

Law’s hand was growing clammy in yours.  He prayed you couldn’t tell.  “No, you can stay.  I’m fine.”

Your own hand flexed in his, and while you turned your gaze away from him, you didn’t seem convinced at his answer.

One thing Law still struggled with, and something that he would probably always struggle with, was facing his emotions head on.  The last thing he wanted to admit out loud was the fact that he had grabbed three condoms from the student activities bowl with the hopes that two months of living in a small room with you would mean a potential score.  He didn’t even know if they would fit.  Were condoms one-size-fits-all?  He had no idea.  He’d never had sex before.

The low beep of the elevator’s button panel signaling their destination shook him once again from his own mind.  You losened your grip on his hand, worried that it was you who was the cause of his sudden nervous demeanor.

“Hey, Law,” you whispered, the quiet hallway absorbing your voice.  You stopped him in front of the elevator as it closed, standing directly in front of him to capture his eyes with your own.  “Take a deep breath with me, alright?”

You slowly inhaled through your nose, feeling how your ribs expanded ever so slightly as your lungs swelled with the warm air of the dorm building.  Law followed your lead, sucking in oxygen through his nose.  You had some sort of supernatural ability to make him feel better instantly, better than any form of medication or clinical treatment.  His shoulders relaxed as he exhaled with you.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered.

“Don’t be,” you replied, a small smile on your lips.  You stepped closer to him, pressing a kiss against the corner of his mouth.  “I just want you to know that you can talk to me if something’s bothering you.”

Law swallowed another thick glob of spit down his esophagus before mustering a weak nod.  “I know.”

Footsteps down the hallway sparked a fire under Law’s feet, quickly dragging you to his door as innocuous as he could, jamming the key into the bolt and clicking open the lock.  He pushed the wooden barrier open with his hand and ushered you inside as you giggled over his frantic movements, not wanting to be seen by any potential bystanders.  Choosing to ignore any playful comments about his shyness, you instead kicked off your shoes and shrugged off your coat, making a beeline to Law’s single twin-sized bed and flopping onto the surprisingly plush comforter that covered his mattress.  As clinical and stoic as Law was, he had an absolutely adorable bedspread.  A simple blue comforter with an ocean wave pattern on it, plain white sheets, three pillows, and a large stuffed animal of a polar bear, which wore a peculiar orange shirt with a strange symbol embroidered on the front.  Everything was wrapped in Law’s scent, that familiar comfort of cedar and lemongrass.

Law chuckled, deep and husky, at the sight of you immediately wrapping yourself in one of the throw blankets situated at the foot of his bed.  “Comfy?”

You hummed in response, flopping onto his pillows and curling up under the throw, hiding your face and taking a deep inhale of the laundry detergent he used.  You might have fantasized about sharing a bed with him for the rest of your life, but he didn’t need to know that.  At least, not yet.

You peeked out from under the blanket as Law milled around his room, neatly situating your bag on the ground next to his, an action which made your heart flutter.  After only three months of steady dating, the two of you had already fallen into a routine when visiting your individual rooms, as if you had been together for an eternity.  Life with Law came so natural, despite the rocky start the two of you had upon first meeting.  The Law from the study room almost five months ago was a completely different man compared to the one nearly folding his clothing and organizing his desk to prepare for your stay, humming a small song under his breath.  He had reserved the top drawer of his wooden wardrobe for your clothing, the few sets of pajamas and day clothes that he wanted to keep in his room for when you spent the night.  (He had a few sets in your room, too.)

Deep in the crevices of your mind, you wondered what married life with him could be like.  He’d probably be just as domestic, if not more so.  He’d probably make such a great father…

“Hey,” he spoke, shaking you from your own trance.  The two of you were one in the same.  “Tired?”

“Nah,” you responded, sitting up slightly, letting the blanket fall around your abdomen.  “Just watching you like a creep.”

The laugh that left his lungs shook your ribcage, a heat fluttering through your veins.  “Do you wanna get changed?” he asked, pulling open the drawer below the one he reserved for you.

You swung your legs off the side of his bed, eager to get into cozier clothing.  “Obviously.”

Neither of you had seen the other naked.  Instead, you changed with your backs to each other, heads down, only turning around when the other gave permission to do so.  It was… comforting.  You assumed your stance behind Law with your back to him, quickly shedding your shirt, followed by your bra.  The sound of rustling clothes behind you signaled that Law was doing the same.  You had just pulled an oversized t-shirt over your head when you heard a few small paps on the floor, and a panicked, ‘Shit,’ from Law.

Not thinking, you turned around to look at what happened.

Three condoms lie on the floor next to his pants, Law frantically fumbling to scoop them off the ground.  He had forgotten to take them out of his pocket and stash them in his desk.  The force of him removing his baggy cargo pants pushed them up and out of the open pocket.

You quickly turned your back to him once again, your face flushed with heat, eyes wide.  It was too late, though.  He knew you saw.

“I…” he muttered, rapidly finishing changing and shoving the three metallic-wrapped packs into his desk drawer.  He was flustered, stuttering over his words.  He stumbled between muttering frantic apologies and explaining himself when you finally turned around.  His face was flushed a deep crimson as his golden eyes scanned your face for any form of discomfort or distrust.

“Were those for… me?” you asked, voice soft, apprehensive.

“No– I mean…” Law’s jaw snapped shut.  “Th… They were.  But only if you, you know– wanted to.  Or… fuck.”  He desperately searched for any appropriate explanation, terrified at the mere prospect of potentially driving you away from him, after he had come so far.

Your heart was pounding out of your chest at the thought.  On shaky legs, you approached the panicked man, gently grabbing his shoulders and grounding him.  “Hey, Law… breathe.”

He nervously licked his chapped lips, drawing a shaky inhale through his nose.  His eyes were clenched shut, too ashamed to look at you.  Your chest ached.

“Can we sit down?” you asked carefully, your hands trailing down his arms to grab his hands.  His fingers twitched at the contact, but he reciprocated your grasp.

You maneuvered yourself across the room, crawling back onto his bed and wrapping yourself in his blanket.  Law stayed seated on the very edge of the mattress, his feet dangling a few inches off the ground from his lifted bed frame.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured, hanging his head.  His fluffy black hair shielded his eyes from your view.

“Please, don’t be,” you pleaded, scooting up behind him and resting your forehead against his vertebrae.  “It’s really alright.  I was just… surprised.  But flattered.”

Law slowly loosened his muscles.  He hadn’t expected ‘flattered’ to be the term to use.  “Really…?”

“I mean… yeah,” you replied.  “I’m surprised that you’d want that from me.”

The man’s stomach flipped.  He carefully turned around to face you, picking his legs up to sit more comfortably on his mattress.  “Why would you be surprised about that?”

The way you pursed your lips at his question made a million more concerns run through his mind.  You quickly shook your head back and forth.  “Can I tell you something?”

“Of course.”

Law kept his gaze on you solid as your eyes darted between his wall, his hands, his blanket.  You nervously fiddled with your cuticles.  “The only time I’ve ever had sex with anyone, I bled for, like… three days.  And it hurt.  A lot.”

The man’s jaw clenched.

“I didn’t want to be rude and interrupt him, so I just kinda let it happen.  But ever since then I’ve been…” you swallowed.  “Scared.  Like… I’m worried I’m broken.”

He wanted to slaughter the man who hadn’t noticed your pain, no matter how long ago the incident was.  The look on your face told him that it still cut you deep despite your calm tone.  Law leaned toward you, concern heavy on his face.  “Did you speak to a doctor about that?”

You nodded.  “Only once.  My old gynecologist as a teenager suggested it could be anything.  He was like, ‘It could be absolutely nothing, or you might have endometriosis.  But you’re so young, so it’s probably nothing.’  So to deal with it I just never got close to a guy since then.”

The black-haired man rolled his eyes.  “That doctor sucked.”

This made a small laugh burst from your lungs.  “He did suck.”  After a few brief moments, you finally made steady eye contact with your boyfriend across from you.  “I’m sorry to disappoint you.”

“What?  No,” he blurted, waving his hands in the air.  “You didn’t disappoint me, you could never disappoint me.  If anything… I’m happy you trust me enough to share that.  I’ve…”  His voice trailed off.

You anxiously waited for his next words.

“I’ve never had sex before.  With anyone.  So all of this is still pretty foreign to me, too.”

A strange sense of relief filled your chest.  “Really?”

Law felt a tiny smirk twitch onto his lips.  “Does that surprise you?”

“A little, yeah.”  You were visibly loosening up, once again growing comfortable where you sat across from him on his bed.  “I mean, you’re crazy hot.”

Even more blood rushed to his cheeks making him feel warm from the crown of his head to the heels of his feet.  “If it helps… you are, too.  That’s… uhm… why I got those.”  He gestured with his head to his desk drawer.

You hid your face in his blanket, embarrassment pulsing through your blood with each rapid beat of your flustered heart.  “This makes me feel even more bad for being so scared.”

Law ghosted his hand over your shoulder, pulling you out of your slouch.  You reminded him of an armadillo in a way, curling up into a little ball to protect yourself from danger.  His mind flashed back to the movie night your friends had some months prior, when he found you behind the building with your head on your knees.  “Never feel bad, I’m serious.”  His voice was firm yet soft, revealing his intentions to make you feel as safe and protected as he could.  “I don’t care if we never have sex at all, or if it takes a long time.  I really don’t care.  As long as you’re… okay.  Healthy.”

You apprehensively peeked out from the blanket once more.  “Really…?”

“Really.”

The man bit down his surprise as light tears welled in the corners of your eyes.  You shuffled across the bed, closing the gap in between your bodies and wrapping him into a strong hug, the blanket shrouding his body as the two of you fell backwards onto his pillows.  You buried your head into his neck as his arms came to rest against the small of your back, holding you securely against him.  He could feel you grinning into him, tiny trickles of hot tears falling down the skin of your cheeks.

“I genuinely think you’re the best man I’ve ever met,” you mumbled, your voice muffled against the cotton of his shirt.

“I’m just sorry you’ve had such bad experiences,” he uttered back, staring at the ceiling as he held you against him.

“Don’t get rid of the condoms,” you sighed.  “I have a feeling we’ll need them eventually.”

Law grinned, squeezing your form in his secure arms.  “On your own time.”

“On your’s, too.”